Spinning on a Great Wheel

Great Wheel beside a modern treadle wheel

A couple of months ago I shared the story of finding and restoring a Great Wheel. Similar Great Wheels existed from medieval times. The American Colonists revived them when England started its shenanigans with the Wool Act of 1699, and it became patriotic to produce and wear only their own cloth right up through the Revolution and beyond.

The Great Wheel I bought had no lacquer, shellac, or vanish on it. It had been stained and most likely oiled to preserve the wood. According to my research, that dates it pre-1850s. He's an old one, but he spins the same today as he did more than 165 years ago. 

Most people mistakenly think the wheel does the spinning, but it doesn't. The actual spinning of fibers into thread or yarn happens in the spinner's hands. The wheel does only two things; it creates the twist, and it stores the spun fibers. 

As the drive band runs around the large wheel, it also turns the small spindle. Yarn, attached to the spindle, is twisted. That twist runs up the length of yarn and begins to twist with the unspun fibers in the spinner's hands. The spinner controls how much fiber is gathered into the twist before drawing it out into a continuous thread. 

Sound complicated? It's not. It just takes practice. In this age of digital everything, spinning is so basic and simple, it's almost hard to grasp. 

Dark llama fibers being spun on the Great Wheel

Once the spinner has drawn out a comfortable arm's length of thread, it is wound onto the quill or bobbin (depending on the style of the spinning wheel) and stored there while the spinner continues to draw out more thread. The process is repeated over and over again in a soothing pattern of back and forth.

On the Great Wheel, the spinner turns the large wheel with one hand, while holding the unspun fibers in the other. With a treadle wheel, the spinner has both hands free to work the fibers while their foot - or feet for a double-treadle wheel - turns the wheel.

Once the spinner has filled two quills or bobbins, those threads will be twisted together in the opposite direction to make a 2-ply yarn. Most fibers are spun clockwise and plied counter-clockwise. The 2-ply yarn is then washed, dyed if color is desired, hung to dry, and then it's ready to be woven or knitted into useful items for the spinner's household.

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Debut story will release in April 2017 from Barbour

Sheep in Colonial America

English Leicester sheep at Colonial Williamsburg

I've been learning a lot about sheep in Colonial times. As a shepherd - as well as a history geek - I find all the information very interesting! Here are some of the highlights:

1) England did its best to prevent sheep from being imported to the colonies to protect their monopoly on the textile industry. The Dutch, however, were very successful at sneaking the animals in.

2) Sheep were raised primarily for wool. Lamb and mutton (any sheep over the age of 1 year) were rarely eaten. Colonists needed to cloth their families, so the sheep were more valuable as wool producers. Sheep and lambs that were eaten were likely animals who were injured or had some defect that made survival unlikely.

3) Sheep were smaller than the animals we see today. They matured at about 60 pounds. Today's meat lambs go to market at 6 - 8 months old and weigh around 150 pounds. Mature English Leicester ewes (also known as Leicester Longwool) today will weigh up to 200 pounds. Quite a change from the 60 pounds in Colonial times. Rams can reach 300 pounds.

4) George Washington was very interested in sheep. He imported (apparently, once sheep were well-established in the colonies, England lifted the ban) English Leicesters and bred to improve the breed. He was one of many Colonial farmers interested in genetics and animal husbandry.

Katie - English Leicester ewe lamb at Twin Willows Farm

Last month this little girl came to live on our farm. She's an English Leicester ewe lamb, about 12 weeks old in this photo. Besides being a good wool producer for this handspinner, she's also a piece of our American history. Who knows, she might even be a direct descendant from that long-ago flock owned by President George Washington.

PeggThomas.com

Debut story releasing in April 2017 from Barbour.

Fulling Mills

Fulling Mill

In the beginning of the American Colonies, all cloth was imported from England. England already had a thriving textile industry by the mid-1600s. Some estimates are that 65% of the English economy was derived from its textiles. 

Although the importation of sheep was prohibited - to protect England's textile monopoly - resourceful colonists smuggled them. The hard-working Puritans were producing their own cloth almost as soon as they arrived.

Spinning and weaving is only part of the process of making cloth. Another important step in the process is called "fulling." Cloth straight off the loom is loose and sloppy. The fulling process washed out all the dirt and lanolin, then beat the fabric with wooden mallets (powered by a water wheel) until it shrunk and tightened into a usable bolt of cloth.

Wooden Mallets inside the Fulling Mill

After the cloth was pounded, it was brushed with a teasel head. Teasels are a dried flower head with hook-tipped spines that when brushed across wool fabric, will raise the nap of the fabric. The nap was then cut off with long, narrow shears. Next, the cloth was stretched over a long frame to dry.

Before fulling mills, this process was done by hand, or rather by feet. Stomping on the wet, soapy cloth took hours of labor to produce what the fulling mill could do in half the time with better results.

By the time King William III issued the Wool Act in 1699, our colonial ancestors were already providing cloth for themselves and were exporting the excess to other colonies and ports.



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Restraining Act of 1699 - The Wool Act

Long before England cracked down on the American Colonies with the Sugar Act or the Stamp Act, King William III declared the Restraining Act of 1699 which became better known as the Wool Act.

Sheep had gained a strong foothold in the colonies despite England's attempts to keep them out. England's woolen mills made a tidy profit selling cloth around the world and didn't want any competition. Some estimate that as much as 65% of England's economy rested on its cloth production.

The colonists of North America, however, proved to be an independent bunch. They not only smuggled in sheep, they started making their own clothing instead of purchasing England's expensive cloth. To add insult to injury, they did it so well, they quickly built it into an industry. When they dared to export their woolen goods to other ports, King William III issued the Wool Act.

The effect of the Wool Act was that all wool and wool products must be sold to England. And taxed. It was taxed when it left port in the colonies and taxed again when it reached England. Then England would resell it to other countries ... and even back to the American Colonies. That didn't set well with the Colonists.

Because of the Wool Act, wearing homespun, often the combination of linen and wool known as linsey woolsey, was seen as a mark of patriotism more than seventy years before the Revolution.

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