Calligraphy Alphabets Made Easy
Margaret Shepherd
Penguin, 1986, 112 pp.

This book provides little specific instruction for the individual alphabets, so I would not recommend it for a beginner. Of the 365 alphabets, most are modern or whimsical, but some are historical, historically based, or suitable as faux or pseudoscripts for SCA purposes (faux Chinese, faux Arabic, etc.).

Roman – A straightforward Roman capital hand.
Celtic Any Case – Based on Uncial, but not very historical; I wouldn’t use it.
Namor – Roman mirror writing.
Lower Kingdom – A nice faux Chinese script.
Coiltic – “A fanciful modern invented style, based on 8th-century coiled Celtic.” I don’t know enough about Celtic to comment on this, but it might be a good starting point.
Swash Capitals – Simple swash capitals suitable for use with Italic hands.
Split Swash – Wouldn’t be out of place for the Renaissance.
Basic Gothic – A fairly generic Gothic hand; not glaringly modern, but there are better ones.
Super Celtic – Stretched letters for filling the ends of lines. “Many of these letters come from the Book of Kells.”
Vivaldi – Decorative Italic-based capitals; not historical but would work as capitals with an historical Italic hand.
Swash Italic – A simple swash hand, not extremely historical but a good starting point.
Backward Italic – A back-slanting Italic hand “based on a 16th-century Italian style by Tagliente.”
Turned Celtic – A more historical Uncial-inspired hand.
Arched Italic – Looks a bit like a cross between Batarde and Italic; not historical to my knowledge but looks like something Renaissance calligraphers might have played with.
Caroling – VERY loosely based on Caroline Minuscule; please don’t use this.
Lag B’omer – A faux Hebew script
Jerusalem – A more obviously English faux Hebrew script.
Fraktur – A 16th century German Gothic hand.
Fraktur Capitals – For use with Fraktur.
Concave Gothic and Concave Scroll – A generic modern Gothic hand.
Half-Round Gothic – Somewhat similar to Early Gothic.
Rustica – “A 5th-century rendition of a 1st-century Roman.”
Split Swash – A nice swash capital alphabet for a split pen.
Gothic Caps – Generic Gothic capitals.
Endless – Capital letters made up of continuous lines. Not historical, but would work as a substitute for simple cadels or Italic swash capitals.
Dürer Caps – “Copies of 15th-century German woodcuts.”
Antiquarr – “A 16th-century design by Ludovico Arrighi.” Lowercase, missing j, v, and w.
Magdalene – Capitals “adapted from a 15th-century copy book.”
Frills – “16th-century capitals by Arrighi.” Simple cadels, no j, u, or w.
Florentine – “16th-century Italian style” with decorative descenders.
Russian – A faux Cyrillic hand, but based on modern Russian–not very similar to historical Cyrillic hands.
Delhight – A faux Sanskrit hand.
Upper Kingdom – Another faux Chinese hand. Some of the letters are real Chinese characters or partial ones, so I would be careful using this.
Shivered – A very decorative Gothic hand–similar to some in 16th century modelbook Mira Calligraphiae Monumenta.
Twinings – A generic Gothic hand with a variety of suggested decorative ascenders, some period, some not. Use with care.
Benedictus – “14th-century letters” with decorative ascenders.
Versals – Simple initial letters.
Gothic Initials – A not very exciting set of generic Gothic capitals.
Embellished Gothic – “Some of these ornaments came from medieval manuscripts; others are modern inventions.” A nice hand.

Please note that these assessments are all mine, and I’m not extremely familiar with all the Gothic hands. Overall, however, I think this book has enough historical or near-historical hands to be useful for the SCA calligrapher, and Lower Kingdom and Upper Kingdom are the best faux Chinese scripts I’ve seen so far.

Classes: I took fingerloop braiding (and am totally obsessed with it), lucet (need to actually get a lyre to make up my mind about it, as using my fingers hurts–but it is more practical for long lengths of cord), and bookbinding (which was very very exciting). I will post pictures eventually, I promise (although the book is not quite done, since I haven’t figured out how to decorate it or pasted the endpapers down).

All in all, it was an excellent event, aside from the fact that I am unpleasantly allergic to pine pollen and spent the whole weekend popping naproxen and feeling lousy.

At fighter practice last week I received the baronial A&S award, which made me cry (and also laugh hysterically, because the scroll text was…unconventional). And also, apparently there was a prize for the blank scroll competition, so now I have some cool new scribal toys to play with (and also a scarf, oddly).

Back to calligraphy layout, whee.

But I am very excited, because there is much more scope for symbolism and little personal details for the recipient with this style, and also I am so frustrated with Carolingian it is a relief to do a more forgiving hand.

The text is very long, though which is giving me a challenge of proportions, even if I use the smallest reasonable nib. It will probably end up being a much larger scroll than I like to do.

I just finished (well, except for four eyelets and two cuffs) a boned Tudor kirtle made from the $5/yard purple linen (yes, I actually used fabric for the originally planned project!). The brilliant Lady Sasha fitted me for it, and it fits absolutely perfectly and is totally comfortable. The only problem is my fault, and that was sewing the skirt on slightly too low. However, this will mostly be worn as a foundation garment except while camping, and I’m not really worried about it.

This project has been a record for me in terms of speed, probably because a) I didn’t have to do much handsewing and b) the 14th century kirtle/cote project and my various headwear projects made my handsewing a lot better and faster. That and I’m actually getting better at sewing (see previous post, ha).

Anyway, now that I have a foundation garment, I can get someone to refit my doublet/bodice pattern and I can actually start working on many of the other projects I have planned. I think the Spanish jerkin and an Elizabethan jacket are at the top of the list. And when I get tired of 16th century, I need to get Sasha to refit my kirtle/cotehardie pattern.

Tomorrow I am off to Glory War, and then I will be back and have to do work work again. But I think I should be able to keep picking away at projects before Baron’s War.

And yes, still need to post project pictures. I will have to get my lord Melchior to take pictures this weekend.

It’s not a totally comprehensive or perfect book when it comes to medieval clothing–I wish it went far enough back for bliauts, covered other cote construction methods, and went into a crapload more detail on headwear, especially fitting hoods (which still defeats me), but it’s a really, really good basic introduction to drafting and fitting your own patterns.

So, when The Tudor Tailor came out I was really excited. I’m a fan of Ninya Mikhaila, and I was hoping for something similar for 16th century clothing. Unfortunately, not only does it not really discuss fitting very much, much less provide fantastic instructions on how to draft the patterns from a body block, but it doesn’t even tell you much about how the clothing should fit most of the time. Plus a lot of the garments are patterned very oddly when compared to the extant garments they’re based on–this is particularly evident with the loose gown.

I look at The Tudor Tailor a lot for inspiration, and it does have some good technique discussions, but I find it a lot more frustrating–it would almost be easier for me to work from Janet Arnold in some cases (okay, it definitely is).

I really hope the Renaissance Tailor book materializes one of these days, because I think her approach is much closer to that of Medieval Tailor, and the body block approach to sewing works well for me.

• Assembled the kirtle with brocade facing and mostly finished the seams.
• Bound the neckline with ribbon.
• Started sewing lacing rings on.

I still need to

• Hem it.
• Bind the armscyes and front bottom with ribbon.
• Add eyelets to the armscyes.
• Finish sewing lacing rings on.
• Pattern and assemble the sleeves.
• Add eyelets to the sleeves.

The loose gown should go together faster, since it won’t involve as much handwork. Once I have the kirtle almost together, I’ll start working on the gown again. I’m still deciding what kind of sleeves to use.

I want to make a brocade flat cap and caul and a red velveteen Italian bonnet so I have some headwear choices for it. But that comes later….

Illumination: Decorations for text, in the strictest definition, gold or silver. These may include decorated letters, margins, miniature paintings, etc.

These are the books I have found most useful for historical calligraphic hands, quill-cutting, information on leafing and historical materials, etc. I haven’t yet found a really good how-to for historical illumination–recommendations welcome.

Harris, David. The Art of Calligraphy: a practical guide to the skills and techniques. Dorling Kindersley: New York (1995), 128 pp.

Includes how to cut quill and reed pens, script timeline, script reference chart, historical background, and instructions for the following hands:

Rustic Capitals (Roman Rustic), Square Capitals, Imperial Capitals (Roman), Uncial, Artifical Uncial (Late Uncial), Insular Majuscule, Insular Minuscule, Caroline Minuscule (Carolingian), Foundational (a post-Renaissance), Early Gothic (Late Carolingian, Carolingian Gothic), Gothic Textura Quadrata, Gothic Textura Prescisus, Gothic Capitals and Versals, Lombardic Capitals, Bastard Secretary (Elizabethan Secretary), Bâtarde, Fraktur, Schwabacher, Bastard Capitals, Cadels, Rotunda, Rotunda Capitals, Humanist Minuscule, Italic, Humanist and Italic Capitals, Italic Swash Capitals, Copperplate and Copperplate Capitals (post-Renaissance)

The two weaknesses of the book are 1) It does not discuss inks, and 2) it presents Secretary as a semi-formal bookhand, and does not show any examples of the commonly used Secretary script used by the Elizabethans for everyday writing, such as letters. Most surviving examples of Secretary are considerably less formal and consistent than bookhands.

This is a fantastic book and I would recommend it over Drogin’s Medieval Calligraphy for the beginner. It also has the advantage in presenting Renaissance hands, and in being full-color, so the numerous examples of manuscripts are easier to read and more inspirational.

Drogin, Marc. Medieval Calligraphy. Dover: New York (1980), 198 pp.

This is the classic reference text for medieval calligraphy. It presents all of the major medieval hands, along with historical background and some minimal discussion of technique and materials. It is in black-and-white, so doesn’t really inspire illumination, but presents a variety of examples of the hands so the reader can see the historical variance. The hands covered are:

Roman Rustic (Rustic Capitals), Uncial, Artificial Uncial (Late Uncial), Roman Half-Uncial, Insular Majuscule, Insular Minuscule, Luxeuil Minuscule, Carolingian Minuscule (Caroline), Early Gothic, Gothic Textura Quadrata, Gothic Textura Prescisus, Gothic Littera Bastarda and Cadels

I find Drogin’s lettering diagrams less easy to follow than Harris’s, and it isn’t always clear when letter forms are modernized. I also strongly disagree with some of his comments on materials, particularly the recommendation of fountain pens, although I agree that quills are difficult to use and can be very frustrating and off-putting for beginners (if I couldn’t use a metal-nibbed dip pen, I would be very frustrated right now). Drogin does not cover Cadels as extensively as Harris.

Overall, while Drogin covers fewer hands than Harris, he does so in more depth. The hands are also presented differently. For example, Drogin’s Bastarda does not involve pen rotations (which can be tricky), while Harris’s does. I recommend both books strongly, as they complement each other well.

Johnston, Edward. Writing & Illuminating & Lettering. Pittman: London (1977).

Johnston was first published in 1906, and it’s pretty dense and sometimes hard to follow, but it’s an invaluable resource. It discusses working surface, quill and reed cutting, letter and line spacing, practicing, rubrication, gold, illumination, and just about everything else, and includes numerous black-and-white illustrations. Although some colors and techniques described are post-Renaissance, much is not.

Dawson, Giles E., and Kennedy-Skipton, Laetitia. Elizabethan Handwriting, 1500-1650: A Manual. W.W. Norton: New York (1966), 130 pp.

This is the only book I’ve found so far that really focuses on everyday writing rather than more formal book- or courthands. It focuses primarily upon the Elizabethan Secretary hand, a bastard script, although it also includes some examples of italic cursive (used primarily by women until 1600 or so, but which replaced Secretary in the 17th century) and a few legal and court hands.

The book includes discussion of Elizabethan spelling and the evolution of the Secretary hand, as well as numerous examples of 16th and 17th century handwritten documents with transcriptions, including several plates from various penmanship books. The handwritings presented vary wildly in formality.

It does NOT include any instructions on the hands themselves. However, between the plates from penmanship books and the instructions for Bastard Secretary in Harris, I imagine one could develop one’s own version of Secretary. There is a lot of latitude for variation.

Cennini, Cennino D’Andrea. Il Libro dell’ Arte (The Craftsman’s Handbook). Trans. Daniel V. Thompson Dover: New York (1933), 142 pp.

Probably written in the 14th century, this is an amazing primary source on Renaissance painting. Although much of it deals specifically with fresco painting, Cennini also discusses pigments, brushes, drawing with silverpoint, drawing on cloth, and many other topics. For instructions of preparing period pigments, it’s hard to beat Cennini. This English translation divides the text into useful sections, including “On the character of ultramarine blue, and how to make it” and “How to paint a dead man.”

The full text is available free online.

Thompson, Daniel V. The Materials and Techniques of Medieval Painting. Dover: New York (1956), 239 pp. (Originally published 1936).

Thompson’s thoroughly researched book covers topics like binding media, gesso, size, oils, pigments, and application of metals in detail. It is an excellent complement to Cennini.

Morgan, Margaret. The Bible of Illuminated Letters. Barron’s Educational Books: Hauppauge, NY (2006), 256 pp.

Although this is aimed at calligraphers inspired by rather than recreating historical work, it does include clear directions for gold and for illuminated letters in several historical styles, including Ottonian. It has some beautiful examples of historical manuscript pages that I haven’t seen elsewhere, and does discuss techniques like writing with thinned gouache for color calligraphy.

However, the hands presented ARE modernized, and design elements should be compared with historical examples before use. Morgan exaggerates the dangers of many historical pigments and recommends some extremely fugitive modern ones.

I like this book for inspiration, but I definitely recommend pairing it with one of the more historically accurate calligraphy books, such as Harris or Drogin.

In Apparrell

Item fower gownes fower dublets one
damask Cassok two paier of hose fower
Shurtes two caps two hatts

In Apparel

Item, four gowns, four doublets, one
damask cassock, two pairs of hose, four
shirts, two caps, and two hats.

Master Edolf was, I’m guessing, a somewhat older and more conservative gentleman, judging by the gowns. The cassock is the only material of a specified fabric, and possibly the richest garment he owned (a damask is a figured woven fabric, probably silk in this case).

The hose must be trunkhose, since by that time period doublets were short enough to require trunkhose or Venetian hose to be worn with them–I couldn’t guess as to whether “two pairs of hose” means trunkhose/netherhose sets, but that seems probable (I’m not that familiar with Elizabethan wardrobe conventions).

I’m not sure about the distinction between caps and hats–I would guess the hats are more structured, e.g. tall hats, and caps are softer, but I could be completely wrong.

Anyway, what I find interesting is that contrary to what people seem to assume now about Elizabethans (and medieval people, for that matter) having more undergarments and fewer outer garments, Master Edolf had essentially four sets of clothing. A “set” as being a shirt, doublet, and gown (I guess he only changed his hose every other day), although the gown is optional. No more garments than undergarments (the cassock is outerwear, like a coat).

I think a thorough analysis of Elizabethan wardrobe accounts could be very, very interesting. I haven’t seen one, but it doesn’t mean none exist….

Original account pictured on p. 57 of
Dawson, G.E., and Kennedy-Skipton, L. Elizabethan Handwriting 1500-1650: A Manual, W.W. Norton & Co. (New York): 1966, 130 pp.

The yellow with red figures side:

The red with yellow figures side (which I decided to use because the kirtle is gold brocade and I like red, but it was a HARD decision):

Kaylie helping me cut out pieces:

Maia helping me. At least until she started attacking my fabric and I chased her out of the living room.

I will post pictures of kirtle fabric and finished garments later! The loose gown will be trimmed with white fake fur (I am trying to make this a SIMPLE project, so not cutting up and piecing rabbit skins) and closed over the bust with gold clasps (but not all the way down the front, ‘cos that would be expensive). Some of the portraits I’ve looked at do not have closures lower than the bust, even decorative ones, so I feel okay about that.

I’m planning on making a little red velvet Italian bonnet to wear with it…since so much of my fabric stash is red/maroon/burgundy, it should go with a lot of other things.