Vell I ask you, if you were to come into possession of an ancient grimoire vhich contained (along wiz ze normal recipes for creating ze philosophers’ stone und cures for varts) a spell entitled ‘How to Traverse Time’, vouldn’t you be a little intrigued? Vouldn’t you give up a successful career to explore ze secrets it offers?
Of course you vould. Just as I did.
I had a huge laboratory, back in zose days. Mechanical construction vas my bread-und-butter. Alvays zer ver young men vanting automatons, adjustments to zer contraptions and votnots. Fraulein Vorzington, my young assistant, vas quite excellent at such sings. I left her to it. For me, reading ancient texts vas far more important. I had zis strong feeling zat vun day, I vould discover zat for vich I searched. Und here it is – ein dusty old volume, standing on my small table in my tiny, dark garret. Viz zis book, I vill conquer time itself!
Doctor Oskar Kopp and his alchemist’s study is one of my favourite 1/12 scale creations. It started as a simple cardboard case, less than the length of a 12 inch/ 30 cm ruler, but now contains his glass and copper still (much distillation goes on in alchemy), arcane diagrams and jottings, a shelf filled with dusty jars of dubious substances and a table which holds his microscope, apparatus and more bottles.
Then, of course, there is the doctor himself, with his plasma- and aether-sensitive binocular eyepiece, not to mention the infamous grimoire. Yes, it does contain that spell, although you might have difficulty reading it, since the pages are less than 2 x 3 cm. I’d also advise caution, should you manage to read it. The ancient book uses Roman numerals, you see, so if you were to attempt to consume one hundred and eleven of the mushrooms, for example, rather than the specified three, the results could be catastrophic. In fact, even three is pushing things rather…
The Case of the Alchemist’s Study will be on display on my stall at the Glastonbury Craft and Vintage Fair on Saturday 29th April, 2017. Other Steampunk – Shrunk figures, rooms and accessories are available at Rune Smith of Glastonbury, at 1 Monarch Way, off Glastonbury High Street and online at the Steampunk Dolls’ House (where you can find Dr Kopp’s erstwhile assistant, Lucy Worthington and one of her automatons). The jar labels, posters and cover for the spell book are courtesy of the wonderful Betsy at Chocolate Rabbit Graphics.
Good day, Sir and Madam.
I have to say, I’m delighted with my small emporium. Don’t you just love the medicine cabinet? It was a generous gift from my dear friend Lady Grace and is ideally suited to my storage and display needs. Oh, pray do not touch the scales, Madam. They are most carefully balanced with a potion I was preparing for her ladyship when you arrived.
I’m very pleased, too, with my counter, which I put together myself from some iron and wood my cousin Amelia had left over from building a steam engine.
“Steampunked?” snorted the gentleman. “What kind of word is that? I don’t like the sound of it one little bit. Nor does my good lady wife or our maidservant, either. We are respectable people, I’ll have you know. ”
Their gasps as they saw his glass buttoned cotton lawn shirt and brocade waistcoat suggested that I might be winning the argument. They noticed the gold watch chain and stared in amazement as I pulled his fob watch from the satin-trimmed waistcoat pocket. Next I took the brass binoculars from his neck for them to examine and emptied the contents of his inch long leather shoulder bag on to the table.
There was a folded, rather battered set of engineering plans, the pipe Isambard can never bear to be without and a tiny leather pouch containing tobacco (made from shredded leather).
Hi, I’m Ruby. They’ve asked me to explain to you what steampunk is, because loads of people are like, ‘What’s that?’
Those old stories I was talking about, yeah? Well they had all sorts of terrifying monsters and stuff that the heroes had to battle against with their amazing steam-powered weapons, so steampunk is into that, too. Loads of the guys go and buy nerf guns and do them up so they’re metallic and look really awesome, to protect themselves against all the evil stuff. I know – bit weird – but boys and their toys, y’know?
I got into it when I read Northern Lights. That’s by Philip Pullman and it’s what The Golden Compass film is based on, but I liked the book better. And now there are loads of good steampunk writers about and we have conventions and festivals and balls and everything. You might want to try reading stories by Nimue Brown or Phoebe Darqueling or go to some blogs like
Finally my furnace was burning away merrily and Inferna the Twisted Firestarter was safely ensconced in her cage (with a large DO NOT FEED sign in case anyone felt tempted to give in to her endless wheedling and eyelash fluttering).
I must confess that much to my chagrin, I am reduced to relying on the kind lady’s charity, since my own – not inconsiderable – fortune remains locked in my own time. Even if I had managed to bring some with me on my time-travelling adventure, it would doubtless have suffered the same fate as myself and been reduced to one twelfth of its natural size, rendering it quite useless in my present surroundings. The dear lady is quite phlegmatic about the expenses, however. She insists that the total cost of building my engine room has been less than five pounds. That seems quite a large sum to me, but she insists it is a paltry amount in her age.
I began work at once. Within a few hours my engine was chugging merrily and the machinery was in perfect working order.
I recall that last time I penned an episode of my adventures as a one-twelfth scale explorer, inadvertently lodged in the year 2017, my normal sized assistant and myself were pondering a method of combustion for the steam engine we were building, to allow me to power up my Machine and escape to my own dimension – in every sense of that word.
“What manner of creature is it?” I enquired.
“It’s a battery tea light,” she continued, as if all should then become clear to me.
Should you wish to become better acquainted with Henry, do visit him at the Steampunk Dolls’ House. He’d enjoy the company. 

The good lady looked only mildly taken aback when I informed her that I would need an engine room – at 1/12 scale, naturally – in order to generate enough steam power to re-calibrate and start the Machine. She rummaged in a cupboard and produced a small valise of suitable dimensions (although quite UNsuitable design). Once I had persuaded her to redecorate it in a more suitable manner, though, I decided it would do very well.
“About that size and shape,” I said.
I am livid, madam, absolutely livid!
Well, yes, certainly one does depict you au naturel, Bertie, dear, but it’s only there to show the followers the transformation that occurred as you took on your current resplendent form. I’m quite delighted with your present appearance, and so should you be.
Well to my way of thinking, you’d be far better off with steam power and our ingenious mechanical devices. Fiddling endlessly with those strange little glass boxes of yours – it isn’t healthy! I trust that your photographs for this piece will be of a more appropriate nature.
“I assure you, Miss Templemann, I would not dream of doing anything so ungentlemanly. All I have told you is the truth. I was crossing the Northern Sea in my airship, when a huge green tentacle appeared from far below and, as I explained, rendered most of my arm useless.”
Grace gave a throaty laugh. “Good gracious no! I asked Oscar to build me this dart launcher so that I might protect myself from attack when I embark on my expedition to darkest Africa. One simply can’t be too careful. I’ve been wearing it for a month and he is due to make any necessary adjustments before my departure on Saturday. But tell me more about your device. It looks most tremendously complicated.”
Grace is also available at the Steampunk Dolls House and can be found here: