1-4. The calligraphy for An award of arms done in the style of a late Franco- Flemish devotional book is based on the handwriting of English scribes during the 15th and early 16th centuries. Gothic Littera Bastarda had been in use as a bookhand for devotional books throughout this time period. Devotional books were popular amongst wealthy patrons beginning in the 1300's and continuing throughout period. There were a variety of private devotional books used by the nobility and the wealthy; and many of the most luxurious manuscripts produced in this period were in the troempe l'oiel style, such as The Grimani Breviary, The Hours of Englebert of Nassau, The Mayer van den Bergh Breviary, The Isabella Breviary, The Psalter of Anne Boleyn. The Flemish devotional book, be it a book of hours, breviary, prayerbook, or psalter, was frequently exported to other countries, and often purchased as a gift to a monarch. Indeed, the list above includes a book purchased as a gift to Queen Isabella of Spain and one purchased at the specific request of Queen Anne Boleyn of England. The presented award scroll represents a work done in that milieu.

This particular piece was done at the behest of the award recipient. He was aware that this scribe had previously done a Willow specifically in the style of the Mayer van den Bergh, substituting cooking herbs for the more usual flowers in the border and using the English g. littera bastarda. As he also received his award for cooking, he asked for a similar award.

The initial model for this hand comes from Marc Drogin's Medieval Calligraphy. I first stared using this hand more than six years ago. Over the years, I have modified it, sometimes unconsciously falling into a ductus more comfortable for me, sometimes deliberately choosing a preferred letter form. There is period precedent for this; the monk William Darker used ideas from several different scripts to create his own hand (Drogin, pg 68). I have attempted to chose all deliberate modifications from English sources to keep things consistent. I have attached the ductus page from Drogin for your comparison. Furthermore, I have attached a number of examples of English Bastardas that show characteristics similar to those I use, and I provided a page from a book that isolated letterforms from period documents, provided to show how many variations may occur in a single hand on a single page--everyone's writing is unique, and people modify the ductus to suit their style. Lastly, I have provided an article I have published on my web site based on my research into paleography as part of appendix 3. Please look to the attachments for the citations of the specific source for each particular page.

5. The following is a short, specific description of the materials and tools used to create this work:

• Opaline Vellum: In the late fifteenth and early sixteenth century, luxury books were still created on vellum. Paper, by this time in use for some books, was found primarily in less expensive works--even the printed luxury books were upon vellum (e.g., Dirringer, 1982; Olmert, 1992). Because of the expense of vellum, I substituted opaline vellum. Opaline vellum is boiled vellum scraps that have been molded and pressed as paper. The idea of making a usable art material from boiled vellum scraps was not unknown in period, for Cennini (15th c.) describes a process of making a translucent paper from boiled vellum scraps. While I have not yet found evidence that this art material would ever have been used to create luxury manuscripts, I believe that the affordable Opaline vellum makes a good substitute in a modern work: its working properties are similar, its appearance is somewhat similar, the process was known if not used for this purpose, and paper of the era was an inappropriate ground for such luxury works. The Opaline was the best I could afford.
• Gum Sandarac: a dried sap used to prepare vellum for ink. (Child, 1985)
• Pigments: I used Ultramarine blue, deep (modern synthetic substitute for Lapis Lazuli--at $145 an ounce, Lapis lazuli is too expensive for my use)within the body of the calligraphy and English red to tint the gesso (see below). Pigments that I purchased (versus those that I made) were bought already ground. At this point in period (that is, the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries), artists purchased pigments from apothecaries, often already ground. Those that were not pre-ground were generally prepared by younger apprentices: my Laurel, Mistress Bronwyn ferch Gwyn ap Rhys, tells me that I am no longer a younger apprentice, and I don't have to grind pigments anymore! See appendix 1 for the list of books containing pigment information.
• Gum Arabic: modernly, the sap of the acacia tree, but in period, could have been the sap of a variety of trees. This was ground, then heated in water to form a solution. To make a paint, I mixed the pigment with water, then blended the wet pigment, the gum Arabic solution, and a drop of honey. This method was described in Noble, 1993; Staff of Scribe, 1025 (receipt included in appendix 3); De Arte Illuminandi (15th c.), and other similar books.
• Gouache: a variety of commercially prepared, water based paints. This paint is made from period materials--pigment, gum Arabic, inert white--and so can be considered a period paint equivalent. I used commercially prepared gouaches for a variety of reasons. 1. It is beyond my budget to obtain enough pigments to make paints in the 25+ shades used in this work. In period, different shades of paint were frequently made by separating the grades of pigment, in addition to blending and other such things (see Cennini, 15th c.; Theophilus, c. 1122). Pigments purchased in the modern era have already been separated and so one gets one shade. 2. The toxicity of many period pigments is notorious, but many of the modern substitutions are just as dangerous--cadmium yellow pigment is no less dangerous than the orpiment it replaces. 3. Many period pigments are not sufficiently lightfast to be used in artworks that will be frequently exposed to light.
• Ox gall solution: Water and ox gall. See Limming, 1573 for a presently available reference (appendix 3), although other evidence for its use as a surfactant is available. Ox gall solution eases the application of the paint.
• Graphite: used for lining for the calligraphy and drawing the painted initials and line enders. Graphite is in use for drawing and lining by the eleventh century, according to Alexander (1992, pg. 38), and Limming (1573) also makes reference to the use of graphite (called "pencell of blacke lead", folio 2v), as does Cennini (15th c), referring to a soft black stone that can be sharpened with a penknife and used to draw. Leadpoints, silver points, brush, sharpened bones, and ink and quill are other period methods of drawing and lining. While I could have used these other methods, all leave a mark on the paper, something that the recipient indicated was aesthetically unappealing.
• Ferro-gallic ink: made from oak galls, ferrous sulfate, and water heated together. References to this sort of ink can be found in almost any period treatise on making artists materials: Cennini, Theophilus, Limming, Strasburg Manuscript, De Arte Illuminandi, Book of Secrets, Staff of the Scribe, and most of the books included in Merryfield (1849) contain at least one receipt for making an ink with a tannin-providing substance and a ferrous sulfate-providing substance. A variety of ink recipes from period manuals are cited in Appendix 3; inks used in this piece were based on those quoted from Book of Secrets (late 16th century, in Thompson, J, 1996).
• Gesso: The ultimate gilding base. The making of real gesso is a time consuming, sweat producing process, requiring slaked plaster, white lead, Armenian bole, et cetera. While I did plan to make real gesso for this project, the plaster took much longer to slake than I expected, so I was forced by time constraints to use modern gesso instead. I add some English Red pigment to it to color, and on the whole, its performance was similar to classic gesso. The instructions I planned to use for making gesso can be found in appendix 3 as part of the transcription of The arte of limming.
• Gold Leaf: purchased gold leaf. The making of gold leaf is an art unto itself these days, and as many artists purchased the leaf ready made in period, I felt comfortable in doing so myself.
• Miscellaneous tools: Tools used for creating the piece: portable slant desk, straight edge, scalpel, quill, burnisher, crow quill, brushes, pricking stylus. Although instructions for making brushes can be found in period treatise, so also are there instructions merely for picking the best brush. As I do not have access to fur for brush making, I followed the "choosing instructions" to pick the best sable brushes I could afford. The quill was cut according to the instructions included in appendix 3. The burnisher was made for me by my Lord from a hematite bead, a wooden dowel, and plumber's putty. The pricker was used primarily to indicate the placement of the calligraphy lines; this section of the opaline vellum was trimmed off.

6. There are three primary techniques used within the body of the calligraphy:

• Calligraphy--As earlier stated, I first lined the piece, pricking holes in the opaline vellum, drawing in the lines with a graphite stick and a straight edge. D. Thompson, in his several works, mentions the use of silver points, and Jackson the use diluted ink for ruling lines, but as these would have left permanent marks, I chose not to use these methods; again, the recipient had stated unequivocally that he did not like the look. I used an ferro-gallic ink to write; I loaded my pen with a brush and wrote a few lines. God's Teeth! I cried, for the impression the ink left was the faintest of browns. I turned the piece over and lined it all out again, this time trying to do the calligraphy with a Mitchell nib and a commercial, waterproof ink. This was even worse: the pounce agent that I had applied to make the opaline vellum more workable was gumming up the pen, and I might as well have been writing with a popsicle stick. Frustrated, I threw it away. Fortunately, my Lord quietly fished it out and set it back on my work desk. After 24 hours, the ink began to darken noticeably, and I again picked up my quill and continued to write with the ferro-gallic ink. When I had used the ink on paper, the darkening effect began within a few moments, and I had assumed that something in the processing of the opaline vellum was interfering with the chemical reaction of the ferro-gallic ink. I am glad to have found that I am wrong. My quill was tricky and difficult in a few places, requiring more trimming than I usually experience with quills. After finishing the writing, I used the crow quill and the soot ink to outline the versals and line enders.
• Gilding--With a brush, I laid the gesso into the gilded areas. I applied several layers and allowed the gesso to dry between layers. As I was using this piece to try the techniques from Limming (1573), I did not sand the gesso smooth as I usually would have: I scraped it as smooth as I was able with the scalpel. This snapped a couple of blades and did not provide as smooth a surface as sanding would have (Next time, I'll just sand--or use a stronger curved blade). I used loose leaf gold; while gilder's pads are period, I instead removed the gold from the book and, with a scalpel, cut the gold directly on a piece of paper--I don't have a gilder's pad. I used a 1/4 flat brush that I had wiped upon my hairline to pick up and move the gold. I leaned over the gesso, breathed upon it for about 15 seconds, applied the gold, and burnished it lightly. As the applications of gold dried, I burnished harder and harder, until I got a nice shine. Unfortunately, after painting, some of the sheen was lost, and attempts to reburnish the gold ended up tearing gold from the gesso base. As I was reburnishing through glassine, I believe that the problem was the gold's adherence to the gesso; the burnisher did not make contact with the gilding. In future, I shall be more careful in applying the paint should I choose to used modern gesso.
• Whitework and painting--In those elements that are painted, I simply brushed in the color. Several of the elements within the body of the calligraphy are whiteworked. I first laid the base color, allowed it to dry, then painted the white decorative motifs. Some of the methods that I use in doing whitework are more fully explained in appendix 3, if you would like to know more.

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