Month: March 2016

Kitchen Update — Shaka, when the walls didn’t fall

With the mortaring of the last brick, the Company kitchen wall is now one for the history books.


We haz wall!

The wall stands ~6′ 11″ high, and will serve as the hearth and cooking area. A wall oven will be built into the right corner, with a raised hearth to its left, more or less centered on the wall.

Hearth and oven base

We’ll be laying the block for those next week. The hearth will be done for Muster. To the left of the hearth is a salt niche, that will get some final touch-up grinding.

Salt niche

The outsides still need to be cleaned; we’ll be using mortar acid cleaner to get the haze off.

Yes, we gots some cleanin’ to do
Gardiner’s handball court

Elsewhere on the site, the sawhorses are still frisky, with one of the small ones’ having delusions of grandeur.


The next work weekend will entail setting the hearth and oven slabs onto the block supports, layout of the rest of the kitchen and more site clean-up and prep. Also, building corrals for the sawhorses.



Sweet Bag at the Met

Last month several of us visited the Ratti Textile Center at the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York City. They were very friendly and accommodating of our visit. Anyone can get an appointment to view textiles, but the items must be in their department – no costumes/clothing unfortunately and the items can not be on view in the Museum. We were allowed to take as many pictures as we wanted as well. Appointments were limited to 2 hours.

We were allowed 10 items and viewed both embroidery and lace items from the 16th and early 17th centuries. It was amazing to see these items in person. They were all laid out on a table with bright lights for easy viewing. We are not allowed to touch anything, but Isobel, our docent, was happy to flip the items over so we could see both sides.

I will gradually post about the items we saw and share my observations. I cannot share my images online but am happy to show them to anyone that is interested at a work weekend or event or if you want to come by for a visit. The images I have posted here are from the Met website. Unfortunately for the first item all they have is B&W, one of the reasons I choose this bag to see in person.

Bag, Silk and metal thread, British

The first item we saw was 29.23.21 a sweet bag. I was overwhelmed by how exquisitely delicate it is. Embroidered on white silk satin, the threads are incredibly delicate and fine; every stitch detailed.

The main motifs were different on each side of the bag. Something I haven’t seen before. The side not shown has a lovely pink/white tudor rose in middle, a blue borage in the upper right, a yellow and white pansy in the upper left, some blue leaf like thing in the lower left and a honeysuckle flower in the lower right corner.

The silk threads are a variety of soft whites, pinks, yellows, blues and more bold greens and blues used in a satin stitch for the motifs.  I am sure there is some fading with age, but I thought the piece in remarkably good condition. The motif on the lower left shown above has an underlying satin stitch fading from dark blue to light blue to white with gold silk threads couched on top to create a grid pattern. Then inside each grid is a tiny french knot.

The pailletes are incredibly tiny, about 2mm in diameter. Each one is secured with a tiny piece of purl. The coiling stems are pieces of couched purl (looks like rough purl – round gilt as opposed to flattened gilt) out-lined with a 3-ply twisted gold thread that is also couched down with a gold silk. The metal threads are a combination of tarnished silver and gold.

I briefly viewed the interior of the bag. The interior pink silk lining is quite pale and deteriorating. The purse string is the Green Dorge pattern I did for my sweet bag, 4 pink silk threads bordering two gold threads in the middle. Seems to be a popular pattern. It was easy to weave.

There are no tassels anywhere. The bead is woven similar to that described in Jacqui Carey’s book on Sweet Bags and that I used to make mine. There are turks head knots as well. The sides just look like they are sewn together and then lined with the 3 ply twisted gilt thread.

I enjoyed viewing this item in person, it was an incredible experience to see it, experience it and take the time to really look at it. Pictures just don’t do it justice.

The Famous Ratketcher

The Famous Ratketcher

with his travels into France, and of his returne to London

(To the Tune of Tom a Bedlam)


There was a rare Rat-catcher,

Did about the Country wander,

The soundest blade of all his trade,

Or I should him greatly slaunder.

          For still would he cry, a Tatt tat at tat

          tara ra rat to ever

          To catch a mouse, or to carouse,

         Such a Ratter I saw never.


Upon a Poale he carried

Full fourty fulsome Vermine:

Whose cursed lives without any Knives,

To take he did determine.

        And still would he cry, &c.


His talke was all of India

The Voyage and the Navie

What Mice or Rattes or wild Plcats,

What Stoates or Weesels have yee.

          And still would he cry, &c.


In London he was well knowne,

In many a stately House

He layde a Bayte, whose deadly fate

Did kill both Ratte and Mouse.

          And still would he cry, &c.


But on a time, a Mayden,

Did him so fair entice,

That for her a Baite, he layed straight,

Would kill no Rate nor Mice.

          And still would he cry, &c.


And on the baite she nibbled

So pleasing in her taste,

She likt so long, that the Poysin strong,

Did make her swell i’the waiste.

          For still would he cry, &c.


He subtly this perceiving,

To the Country straight doth hie him,

Where by his skill, he poysoneth still,

Such vermine as come nigh him.

           And still would he cry, &c.


He never careth whether

He be sober, lame, or tipsie,

He cab Collogue with any Rogue,

And cant with any Gipsie,

           And still would he cry, &c.


He was so brave a bowzer,

That it was doubtful whether

He taught the Rats, or the Rats taught him

To be drunke as Rats, together.

          And still would he cry, &c.


When he had tripped this Islande,

From Bristow unto Dover,

With Paineful Bagge and painted Flagge,

To France he sailed over.

          And still would he cry, a Tatt tat at tat

          tara ra rat to ever

          To catch a mouse, or to carouse,

          Such a Ratter I saw never.

The Happie Obtaining of the Great Galleazzo

The Happie Obtaining of the Great Galleazzo

by Thomas Deloney, who is mysteriously absent at sea

To the tune of Monseurs Almaigne


O Noble England, Fall downe upon thy knee,

And praise thy God with thankfull hearte, Which still maintaineth thee.

The forraine forsce, that seeke thy utter spoile,

Shall then through His especiall grace, Be brought to shamefull foile.

With mightie pow’r they come unto our coast,

To overrun our Countrie quite, They make their brags and boast.


In strength of men, they set their onley stay,

But we, upon the Lord our God, Will put our trust alway.


This great Galleazzo, which was so huge and hye,

That like a bulwarke on the sea, Did seeme to each man’s eye.

There was it taken, unto our great reliefe,

And divers Nobles, in which train, Don Pietro was the chief.

Strong was she stuft, with Cannons great and smalle,

And other instruments of warre, Which we obtained all.

A certaine sign, of good successe we trust,

That God will overthrow the reste, As He hath done the firste.


Then did our Navie pursue the rest amaine,

With roaring noise of Cannons great, Till they neere Calais came.

With manly courage, they followed them so faste,

Another muightie Gallion, Did seeme to yield at last.

And in distresse, for safeguard of their lives,

A flag of truce they did hand out, With manie mournefull cries.

Which, when our men, did perfectly espie,

Some little Barkes they sent to her, To board her quietly.


This mightie vessel, was threescore yards in lengthe,

Most wonderfull to eache man’s eye, for making and for strength.

In her was placed, an hundreth Cannons greate,

And mightily provided eke, with bread-corne wine and meat.

There were of Oares, two hunderedth I weene,

Threescore foote and twelve in length, well measured to be seene.

And yet subdued, with manie others more,

And not a ship of ours was lost, the Lord be thankt therefore.


Lord God Almightie, which hath the heartes in hand,

Of ev’ry person to dispose, defend this Englidh land.

Bless Thou our Soveraigne with long and happie life,

Indue her Counsel with Thy Grace, and end this mortall strife.

Give to the rest, of Commons more and lesse,

Loving heartes, obedient minds, and perfect faithfullnesse.

That they and we, and all with one accord,

On Sion Hill may sing the prayse of our most mightie Lord.

The Cat’s Perch Inn

(More Gardiner’s music for the upcoming Muster)

The Cat’s Perch Inn

(A song whereas Master Robert Bedingfield doth Prayse the Inn.)

When returning from sea, I’m longing to see

A beautiful face so fine,

And I crave to partake of the finest of steaks,

And drink the sweetest of wines.

Where the music is beautiful,

And the alewives are dutiful,

And the prices are, oh, so fair

You’ll not find their kin at the Cat’s Perch Inn

‘Cause they have not a one of them there

Oh, the Cat’s Perch is not much to look at,

          A broken down inn, we confess.

          The music is rough

          And the women are tough

          But, oh Lord, the beer is the best.


Not one friendly face you’ll find in that place,

An inn for the hard-drinking man,

The inside is rank, and the outside is dank,

And we go there as oft as we can.

Good folks won’t go near it,

And constables fear it,

But we cherish it’s halls without fail

No power can stay us,

Or dare to delay us,

From drinking her God-blessed ale.

  Oh, the Cat’s Perch is not much to look at, &c.


When the thirst of the ages inside of us rages

Our gullet’s as dry as sand,

We follow the route to the brew that’s without

Compare in all of the land.

No matter the crop,

Oat, barley or hop

What comes from her kegs is quite sound.

To he that says “Fie it” I say he should try it

‘Ere his wife puts him in the ground.

Oh, the Cat’s Perch is not much to look at, &c.


When Gardiner’s had come  with pike, shot, and drum

To the Cat’s Perch to Muster thereby,

Sweet Fanny assailed them, and wined, dined, and aled them

And fed them on cake and cheese pie.

Master Robert had paid a fair muster’s wage,

James Hamilton’s cards led the deal,

The Reverend bewailed them, and the Gentlemen tailed them,

And all had a very fine meal.

Oh, the Cat’s Perch is not much to look at, &c.


Oh, the Cat’s Perch is not much to look at.

A decrepit old inn, there’s no worse.

The patrons are wary, And the women are scary,

But they have the best beer on this earth.

Kitchen Site Update

Things have been happening at the Gardiner’s kitchen site this past month.

A load of gravel was put down on the road. While not complete, it will make the drive down better for those in cars.

If you are driving down the road, you’ll need a place to park. We’ve had some gravel put down in the parking area. More cars can now be parked to either side.

We plan to expand the parking area in the future, so this roadway is temporary.

The Company decided to purchase a used port-o-john, rather than renting one whenever we had something going on at the site. It was delivered this week.


While the outside fits in well with the surrounding forest, the inside is a different story:

The main thing is, it’s ours and it works.

The biggest news is the work that’s been done on the kitchen brick walls. The Company hired a local bricklayer, who started work on Friday. After just one day, the wall is almost complete.


The sidewall to the right of Laura is the final height, just under 7 feet. The remaining work should be done next week, in time for the first work weekend, March 26th. We’ll be working on the hearth and oven, and doing layout on the charcoal braziers which go somewhere along here, I think.

Zeke has been hard at work planning the timber framing, which we’ll get started later this year.

Those who can come to the work weekend can help us get the kitchen and the site ready for Muster.

We hope everyone can get out to Muster, this year April 28th – May 1st. You really have to see the site to appreciate how beautiful it is.



Jolly Good Ale and Old

Jolly Good Ale and Old

(A drynkinge song of much repute)


I cannot eat but little meat

My stomach is not good

But sure I think that I can Drink

With him that weareth an Hood.

Though I goe Bare, take you no care

For I am never cold

I stuff my skin so well within

With Jolly good Ale and old.

Back and sides goe bare, goe bare,

          Both hand and foot goe colde,

But belly, God send good Ale enough,

          Be it newe or old.


I love no roast but a nut-brown Toast

And a crab laid in the fyre,

A little bread should do me stead,

Much bread I never desire.

Nor Wind nor Snowe or Frost, I trow,

Can harm me if it would,

I am so wrapped, and thoroughly lappt,

With Jolly good Ale and old.

Back and sides goe bare, goe bare, &c.


I care right nought, I take no thought

For cloathes to keepe me warm,

Have I good Drink, I surely think

That none can do me harm.

For truly then, I feare no Man,

Though he be ne’er so bold,

When I am armed and thoroughly warmed

With Jolly good Ale and old.

Back and sides goe bare, goe bare, &c.


Now let them drink till they nod and wink,

E’en as good Fellowes doe,

They shall not miss to have the bliss

That Good Ale brings them to.

And all poor souls that scour black bowls,

Or have them lustily trolled,

God save the lives of them and their wives

Wether they be younge or old.

Back and sides goe bare, goe bare,

          Both hand and foot goe colde,

But belly, God send good Ale enough,

          Be it newe or old.


Soldiers Three

Soldiers Three

We be soldiers three,

Pardonnay moy je vouz ahn pree,

Lately come forth from the low country,

With never a penny of money.


Here, good fellow, I drink to thee,

Pardonnay moy je vouz ahn pree,

To all the good fellowes wherever they be,

With never a penny of money.


And he that will not pledge me this,

Pardonnay moy je vouz ahn pree,

Pays for the shot, whatever it is,

With never a penny of money.


Charge it again, boys, charge it again,

Pardonnay moy je vouz ahn pree,

As long as there is any ink in thy pen,

With never a penny of money.


We be soldiers three,

Pardonnay moy je vouz ahn pree,

Lately come forth from the low country,

With never a penny of money.


The Jovial Broome-Man

The Jovial Broome-Man

(The tale of a much-travelled man, and how he came to be laid low)

Room for a Lad that’s come from seas,

Hey, Jolly Broom-Man

That gladly now would take his ease,

And therefore make me room, man.

France, the Netherlands, and Spain,

Hey, Jolly Broom-Man,

I’ve crossed the seas and back again,

And therefore make me room, man.


Yet in these countries there liv’d I,

Hey, Jolly Broom-Man

And valiant soldiers I’ve seen die,

          And therefore make me room, man.

A hundred gallants there I kill’d,

          Hey, Jolly Broom-Man,

And besides, a world of blood I spill’d

And therefore make me room, man.


In Germanie I took a Towne,

          Hey, Jolly Broom-Man

And threw the walls there upside-down,

          And therefore make me room, man.

At Tilbury Camp with Captain Drake,

          Hey, Jolly Broom-Man,

I made the Spanish Fleet to quake

And therefore make me room, man.


At Holland’s Leaguer there I fought,

          Hey, Jolly Broom-Man

But there the service prov’d too hot,

          And therefore make me room, man.

Then from the League returned I,

          Hey, Jolly Broom-Man,

Naked, hungry, cold and dry,

And therefore make me room, man.


When I was drinking at the Cat’s Perch Inn,

          Hey, Jolly Broom-Man

I was set upon by Gardiner’s Men,

          And therefore make me room, man.

Then to make the matter worse,

          Hey, Jolly Broom-Man,

They threw me down and stole my purse

And therefore make me room, man.


Now have I compass’d the Globe,

          Hey, Jolly Broom-Man

And I’m return’d as poor as Job,

          And therefore make me room, man.

And now I’m safe returned here,

          Hey, Jolly Broom-Man,

Here’s to you with a cup of English beer,

And therefore make me room, man.



Of All the Birds That Ever I See

Of All the Birds That Ever I See

(Wherein the men do speak their mind, and the women, theirs.)

Of all the birds

That ever I see,

The owl is the fairest

In her degree.

For all the day long

She sits in a tree,

And when the night comes,

Away flies she.

          To whit, to woo,

          To whom drinks thou,

          Sir Knave, to thee.

          This song is well sung,

          And I make you a vow,

          That he is a knave

          That drinketh now.

          This song is well sung,

          And I make you a vow,

          That he is a knave

          That drinketh now.

          Nose, nose, nose, nose,

          And who gave thee

          That jolly red nose?

          Cinnamint and Ginger,

          Nutmeg and Cloves,

          And that gave thee

          Thy jolly red nose.

          Nose, nose, nose, nose,

          And who gave thee

          That jolly red nose?

         Cinnamint and Ginger,

          Nutmeg and Cloves,

          And that gave thee

          Thy jolly red nose.

(Verse the second, wherein the men do sing:)

I’ll not have a woman

Who’s never been tried,

But give me a wanton

To lie by my side.

And this I do use

As the rule of my life,

That wanton is best

Who’s another man’s wife.

          Nose, nose, &c.

(Verse the third, where the women do answer:)

You’ll not have us, sirs,

Although you may try,

But we do not deign

With drunkards to lie.

For Ale-Knights do claim

Our fields they will plow,

But they always deliver

Much less than they vow.

          Nose, nose, &c.