Christina here. As we’ve mentioned before, authors take any chance they can to do a bit of hands-on research when it’s on offer, and a couple of weeks ago I did just that – I tried my hand at Viking weaving!
I’ve been a member of my local weaving guild for some years now, although I don’t attend very frequently as I don’t have time unfortunately. It all began with me doing a weekend course in Scandinavian band weaving, which of course sounded right up my street. Since one of my neighbours is Swedish as well, we decided to try it, and it was such fun we then signed up for a course in proper weaving. And … we were hooked.
I ended up buying my own loom. It’s not huge, but I can make things up to 70cm wide, which is plenty for me. I mostly make table runners and scarves and they don’t need to be any wider than that. I never thought I’d be into that sort of handicrafts as I was the despair of my sewing teacher at school, but I wish she could see me now!
Anyway, my guild often gets sent notices from other guilds around the country with news about special events they are organising. When one came round saying the Cambridge guild were having an open day that included a demonstration of weaving on an upright Viking loom, I simply couldn’t resist. So I dragged my poor husband on a three-hour journey across the country and it was well worth it!
Jayne and Stephen Delarre, a husband and wife team who take part in Viking reenactment, had set up two Viking looms and were happy to let me have a go. Jayne was making a woollen twill cloth, while Stephen was working on something called a Varafeldur. This is a specific Icelandic technique where the weaver makes a basic plain weave while adding little tufts of untreated wool at intervals, creating a sort of rug effect. (See here for more information).
It looks shaggy and a bit coarse, but to the Vikings it could be a life-saving garment. Because the woollen tufts are unwashed, they retain the greasy lanolin, making it almost completely water-resistant. The Varafeldur would be woven as a rectangle that could be worn as a cloak, and when travelling across cold seas in all weathers it would have been perfect for keeping the wearer warm and dry. Being versatile, the cloak could also be worn inside out in cold weather, with the shaggy part keeping you even warmer. This is perfect for the hero of my next book!
Here is Stephen wearing one and dressed in full Viking gear - doesn't it look great?
Photo courtesy of Jayne Delarre
Back to the loom itself – these were so called warp weighted looms and they weren’t invented by the Vikings. They are known to have been used as far back in time as by the Egyptians, probably long before then. But they work very well and in some cultures, like the Saami in northern Scandinavia, they were still in use up to the 20th century. Basically, it’s a simple construction that is meant to lean against a wall. There are two uprights with holes where you can put supports for the heddles (the bars that are moved by the weaver to create a pattern). The warp is attached at the top and weighed down by loom weights to create the necessary tension.
Loom weights could be made from any material, but clay is probably the easiest. When excavating Viking sites, archaeologists have found loads of these as more or less every house had a loom. A housewife needed to make cloth for the whole family – they all had to have clothes and bedding, and perhaps colourful wall hangings and things like linen sheets to use as towels. Weaving was a skill most women had to learn.
Once the warp was set up, the weaving itself was fairly simple. You merely alternate the position of the heddles to create the desired pattern, and pass the wool through the warp threads, then beat them into position with something called a weaving sword. I was thrilled to be allowed to try this, as I’ve read a lot about it. Apart from having to memorise in which order the heddles were moved, it wasn’t difficult. The piece Jayne had set up was not very wide, but if you were working on a wider one it would be better to pair up with another person, passing the yarn between you. That would be a lot faster. The usual loom width was two ells. An ell is an old measurement that roughly equalled the length between a man’s elbow and the tip of his middle finger. Two ells is just under one metre. A normal cloak, for example, would be two ells wide and four long (ie. roughly 1 x 2 metres).
I was amazed at the different patterns a weaver can create with one of these looms, and what good quality cloth can be produced. Plain weave is the simplest, but twills like an ordinary herringbone design were common too. Wool was usually used, but there was also yarn made of linen (flax), hemp and nettles (!).
The weaving was always done by women, and was seen as almost magical – creating something out of the mess that is raw wool. When my hero Ivar (in PROMISES OF THE RUNES) shows interest in what the women are doing and asks to have a go, his host is seriously suspicious. He can’t understand why a man would want to try his hand at weaving, or even know how. Ivar, of course, is an archaeologist from the 21st century, so to him every aspect of Viking life is fascinating and he wants to learn as much as possible. Writing that scene was fun!
I wrote a post about dyeing a while back (see here) and I learned from Jayne that it was most likely cloth would be dyed after it was finished. If you dye the yarn beforehand, you might end up with too much or too little and the colour wouldn’t be the same throughout the material. Makes sense!
(You can find out more about Jayne and the lovely things she makes here.)
Do you do any handicrafts and, if so, what is your favourite thing to do? Or other hobbies?
