Living History... his
story You Wooden Believe
It...
© Declan Kenny
I have threatened for some time now to try and
shed some light on that strange hobby that I indulge
in called historical re-enactment. This website
is as good a place as any to do so, so let's get
to the heart of the matter and explain why a session
of dressing up should certainly be recommended for
everyone at least once in their lifetime. The traditional
Irish dress of the well-to-do in Gaelic Ireland
from a thousand years ago consisted of a knee-length
linen leine, or tunic, and brat, which was a woolen
cloak that could be wrapped around the body several
times (the longer the cloak, the more wealthy the
wearer).
As a man, this probably translates as
your only chance to be seen in a frock,
unless you're a transvestite or a priest.
The feeling of contentment after a day
on site in your 10th Century kit is hard
to describe. Not least, the arches of
your feet are going to discover muscles
hitherto unfound as you wander about in
soft leather shoes. There is also an
attached-to-the-earth quality
that can only be achieved by giving your
feet a chance to feel the natural
contours of the ground.
I know if my Dad was reading this, he
would remind me of his childhood days
spent in the foothills of the Dublin
Mountains when his mother would keep them
home from school (and the required five
mile cross-country walk) if their shoes
were letting in. In fact, not
unlike what I might be found doing of an
evening with my historical reproduction
footwear, my paternal grandfather would
have a spare piece of leather for
on-the-spot shoe repair. I think
(unconfirmed as of yet) that my Dad finds
my hobby a little unusual. Having said
that, I might get him into kit one of
these days. My role in the group is a
wood-turner, and I have recently
fashioned a reasonably accurate
pole-lathe in order to demonstrate my
craft. I know my father is keen
wood-worker, so that, coupled with the
fact that we occasionally get to travel
to interesting venues, means it should
only be a matter of time before we see
him on site.
The purpose of this strange activity
is to portray life from a given period in
history to the public. Our group, Gael
Agus Gall, focus on Irish history from a
time frame known as The Viking Age, which
roughly translates as 795 A.D. to, in our
case, 1014 A.D. - the Battle of Clontarf,
a notably misconstrued event in Irish
history. The displays of crafts are ideal
for a hands-on approach to explaining a
range of questions: what did we eat? what
did we wear and how did we make clothes?
what were the houses like? The public
will of course get into the swing of
things, and will also ask some strange
questions.
On the whole, I have found children to
be the most inquisitive once they get
over the initial concern at the
broadsword strapped to your side. I was
once beaten by a young boy at hnefatafl -
a board game of Norse origin - and this
after only explaining the rules in brief
five minutes previously! Kids are without
shame and will ask the most pertinent
questions, like what did a Viking use to
wipe his bottom, amongst others.
It is the older generations who rarely
fail to amuse and astound with their
range of enquiries. Mary, who handles the
food display, is frequently asked
if we had eggs back then...
This applies to other foodstuffs, like
mushrooms, bread and cheese.
However, the best I have heard to date
came from a show in England when one
re-enactor, spotted carving a piece of
timber, was asked the immortal line:
Did they have wood in those
days?
We do have to be careful of course.
Just when you think you can relax and
enjoy the day without too much of your
mind occupied with the finer points of
leather tanning, a perfectly normal
looking lady will casually ask you what
is the best mordant to use if you're
dyeing with woad!
You might also be told that the antler
you have carefully carved into a knife
handle is from the Fallow Deer, and not
the Red Deer, and is hence probably not
quite right for our time frame.
Little moments like this keep you on
your toes.
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