Cabinets of Curiosities

Continuing with my series on what’s available at Steampunk-Shrunk, this week I’d like to highlight the Cabinets of Curiosities.

Of all the things made here, I think the gadgets and gizmos are my favourites.  I love scouring charity shops, discount stores, eBay and so forth for tiny weird bits and pieces I can upcycle, combine and transform in wild and wonderful ways.  Inevitably, I was ending up with a mass of very fragile tiny steampunk gadgets, whose purpose I could only guess at.  A few found their way into the room boxes or the hands of my characters, but Charles Tradescant here decided to collect the rest together into wooden cabinets.

The ones available at the moment are all this style (left and above) – about 8 inches/20cm tall and 6 inches/ 15cm wide, freestanding and made of wood, with a perspex window, ten compartments and a decorative fastening catch.

Charles displaying a smaller cabinet – currently out of stock

I suppose they would fit into a tall dolls’ house, but they really look their best as freestanding ornaments on shelves or mantelpieces, where the intricate and eclectic contents can be viewed.  Each is completely unique, with a glorious mixture of books and letters, art works, specimens in jars, skulls, shells and other natural objects as well as the intriguing steampunk contraptions.  All are glued down, to preserve the sanity of the owner, but with moderate pressure they can usually be detached.

There will be three cabinets available at our next stall (Thame Dolls House and Miniatures Fair on Saturday 17th Feb 2018) at £45 each.  They can also be purchased online, with postage and packing extra, although a few items may need to be glued down again on arrival, so have some superglue handy.

Please use the contact form at the bottom of the HOME page on this site if you’d like to know more.

Book a Bargain

When I’m preparing stock for my stall, I like to have something to suit every age and every wallet.

Certainly the poseable porcelain figures, with all their clothes hand stitched and their tiny accessories and (often) new wigs all hand made, come out relatively expensive.  Likewise the room cases, which can take me weeks to create.  These items are not really suitable for children either, being fragile, with some sharp edges and a plethora of what health & safety people refer to as Small Parts.

That’s why I make sure some lines are child-friendly and always have a range of items for under £5.

The cheapest (and of course the best sellers) are the DIY miniature books.  For a mere 50p, customers can buy an A4 sheet containing a ready-to-make printed book, with full detailed instructions.  All they will need are scissors, a glue stick and considerable patience!  One enterprising lady at a sale just before Christmas bought one of these for each of her dinner guests instead of crackers, so that they’d spend a happy hour making them and each have a tiny memento to take home.  Construction needs a steady hand, so I hope not too much wine had flowed during the meal!  These are also popular pocket money purchases for children.

each page individually agedFor those who have less time and patience, there’s a range of ready made books, from tiny blank-paged notebooks and pencils to thicker, fully illustrated printed volumes.  The text of each book appears in this blog, in case the print is too difficult to read.

Here, for information, is a list of the books currently in print with links to their blog posts:

  • The Alarming Clock (available as a DIY book for 50p or a ready-made volume for £2.50)
  • Grimoire (ready-made book with each page carefully ‘aged’ for £4.50)
  • Molly – by Herself (DIY book for 50p)
  • The Magical Mechanical Bird (DIY book for 50p)
  • The Vital Chapter (The text is printed in blue towards the end of the linked post.  The ready-made book costs £3.50)
  • Journal (this ready-made book contains a few pages of her Ladyship’s notes.  The rest is blank and it costs just £2.50. The journal entries are based on the linked story, and the Case of the Withdrawing Room is also still available for sale at £48)
  • Heart of Glass (a ready-made book which was serialised here – Part 1 and here -part 2.  It costs £3.50)
  • Diary of a Tinkerer (My personal favourite!  A ready-made book which costs £3.50 and was serialised in four parts at these links: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3 and Part 4.)  Note: Young Henry was last heard of piloting an airship somewhere, although an older and wiser version of himself – such things are possible with time-space anomalies – resides with me and is not for sale!  His original engine room, however, is still available at £58.

People who come to my stalls keep complaining that they find my 1/12 scale books difficult to read :) so with the help of my miniature tinkers, I put together some illuminating manuscript readers, with magnifying lens and lamp. Come and try them at the Thame Miniatures Fair in mid February.
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#steampunkshrunk #steampunk #modelling #miniatures #manuscriptsHappy reading, and should purchasers still wish to try reading the original volumes, we do have a few Illuminating Manuscript Readers, with magnifying lens and bright lamp for £14.  (It’s pictured here on a centimetre square grid, to give an idea of scale.)

All the above items are also available for mail order, with postage and packing extra.  Please use the contact form at the end of the HOME page on this website for any enquiries.

Upping the Date

Greetings to all from the grey, damp and murky land of Avalon, where life, myth and mystery combine curiously amongst the swirling mists (well, actually thundering hail storms at the moment, but that’s a temporary glitch, I’m sure).

We felt the arrival of a new year merited an update on how things are progressing here at Steampunk-Shrunk HQ.  When I say ‘we’ I refer to myself – a slightly eccentric but mostly harmless white-haired writer-and-educator-turned-miniaturist – and the cluster of (far more eccentric) 1/12 scale figures who share this compact and slowly sinking residence.
Yes, it is indeed sinking. It used to be level with the road outside when it was built, a mere three-hundred-and-something years ago. Alas, it has failed to keep pace with the world around it and is now reached by stepping down from the pavement into our semi-subterranean world. It all adds to the general weirdness…

We are currently working alone, since the Steampunk Dolls’ House – our fellow enterprise based in Shropshire – almost sold out over Christmas and its few remaining residents are in the process of moving to new premises.  Nothing daunted, and buoyed up by moderate successes last year, we have decided to take to the road this year and flaunt our wares in far-flung areas of the United Kingdom.

Sadly, we possess only two vehicles between us, and both of those are at 1/12 scale.  Determined not to allow that to dissuade us, however, we have purchased a suitcase of gargantuan proportions and one of those magical devices for taking card payments from customers.  Many hours perusing bus and train timetables and hunting out bargain-priced accommodation means that we are about to commence our Grand Tour.

Messrs Crackington and Balsover are busily creating an emporium filled with a host of cunning contrivances and devious devices, which will be available for purchase at our forthcoming sales.

Some of their wonders, including the mysterious Oracular Device and the dangerous-looking Phosphorus Pump are displayed here.

Over the next few weeks, we will be highlighting more of the delights you can expect to discover on the Steampunk-Shrunk stalls which will be appearing around the land.

Our first venue will be the Thame Miniatures Fair (in Oxfordshire) on Saturday 17th February,  followed by a weekend Steampunk Convention on March 24th and 25th in Shrewsbury, Shropshire.

We’d be delighted to meet you at one of these events and hope you’ll be able to join us.

 

 

 

 

 

The Alarming Clock

I, Ebenezer Crackington, am by trade a clockmaker.  I have worked at this trade since I completed my apprenticeship in the beautiful city of Paris, France, many years ago, at the age of twenty-two.

For eighteen years I made a reasonable living producing table and mantle clocks of the finest quality, encased in glass domes so that the mechanism could be viewed by the owners.

One memorable day, however, my shop was visited by none other than Lord Horatio Backgammon.

Imagine my amazement as this great gentleman entered the door and removed his hat, just as any lesser person might do.

I bowed to his lordship and offered him a chair, wishing that I had some upholstered seating, rather than the plain wooden variety.

Nevertheless, his lordship deigned to sit upon this humble piece of furniture with no complaint and addressed me in the following manner: 
“Crackington,” he said, “You have been recommended to 
me by certain gentlemen at my club as being a first rate craftsman.  Would you say they are correct?”

No doubt my face reddened rather at this most unexpected compliment, but I kept my head and replied, “Why I certainly believe it to be the case, Your Lordship, judging by the testimonials I have received from satisfied customers.”

“Good show,” Lord Backgammon responded.  “In that case, I have a most particular commission for you.”

I promptly availed myself of a pen and my order book, hoping that my exterior appearance remained calm, despite my inner excitement.

Lord Horatio Backgammon informed me that, for reasons he was unable to disclose, he needed to wake and rise at a various times during the night in order to attend meetings of an extremely significant nature.  His prompt arrival at these rendezvous was of the utmost importance. 

Unfortunately, his lordship was a very heavy sleeper and was having great difficulty waking on time.

He asked whether I had any experience in constructing adjustable mechanical alarm clocks.  I assured him that I had served as apprentice under M. Antoine Redier, the inventor and patent holder of such devices.

“Well they are useless!” his lordship informed me.  “I require a device at least ten times louder than such paltry machines and one which involves a further element of surprise.  Can you do it?”

I assured him that I could, and would start work on it that very day.

Lord Backgammon left his card and a generous down payment and departed.

I commenced by using a double bell for the alarm mechanism, with a strong beater which alternated between the two.  I then constructed a large claxon, which I fashioned from a trombone horn, which moved about in a haphazard and suitably alarming fashion when activated.

Since I was concerned that the ensuing noise might perforate his lordship’s eardrums, I installed a decibel gauge, which would shut down the alarm if dangerous sound levels were reached. 

Lord Backgammon was delighted with his device and pronounced it satisfactory in every respect.

 

Thus I find myself the inventor of the Ebenezer Crackington Alarming Clock.

Tinkering with Time

George Entwhistle, a patents clerk by day, had always enjoyed tinkering.  The trouble was, tinkering could be a somewhat noisy activity.  Living as he did in a terraced property, he had to contend with frequent complaints from neighbours and visits from members of the constabulary.

In consequence, he’d been banned from hammering, sawing, welding or producing anything with a tendency to explode between the hours of 8pm and 10am, and all day on Sundays.  This, given the long hours he worked at the patents office, made it difficult for him to achieve anything of note.  George felt cheated by life.

All this changed, though, the day he realised that the blocked up door in the sitting room did not, as he’d always imagined, lead to the parlour.  Careful measuring and still more careful (and virtually silent) plan drawing showed that there was a two and a half foot gap between the blocked door and the parlour wall.

Working only between the hours of 7.30 and 8 in the evening, George carefully prised open the mysterious door and discovered, to his great amazement, a staircase leading down.  Eagerly, he availed himself of an oil lamp and the poker from the fireplace, and cautiously descended.

Cellar Outlet, Gang, Dark, CreepyImagine George’s surprise and delight as he discovered a further door at the base, which opened quite easily, revealing a large cellar!

Certainly it was cold and uninviting, but the walls were thick.  George raced upstairs, grabbed his noisiest intruder alarm – one of his most unpopular inventions amongst the neighbours during the testing stage – and took it down to his newly discovered domain.  Here he set it off and left it in the cellar, shutting the door behind him and returning to the sitting room.  Despite the deafening clang of bells and shriek of whistles echoing around the empty space below, there was virtually no sound to be heard from either the sitting room or parlour.  Despite it being 8.30, not a single neighbour banged on the wall or hammered on his front door.
“Eureka!” exclaimed George.
“Quiet in there or I’ll summon a constable!” came an angry shout from the occupant of number 28.

From that day onward, George worked to transform the cellar into a tinker’s workshop.  He extended the heating pipes downwards to power a boiler, which not only heated the workshop, but allowed him to brew a much-needed cup of tea from time to time.  He constructed a doorbell with a wire connecting it to the front of his house, so that callers could be heard.  He made himself a shelf and workbench and even installed a clock and mirror.  The result was a commodious and most agreeable work space.  George was a happy man.

He is currently busying himself with constructing a clockwork time machine.  He’d long had a plan, gleaned from a combination of the failed ideas of several other tinkers.  Working in a patents office did have certain advantages.

As you can see, his contraption is well underway, and he’s able to fire it up for short periods.

“Only a matter of time,” George mutters to himself, smiling slightly at his own wit, “Now that I no longer have to suffer time restraints, soon I shall be the master of time!”

Time will tell…

 

Should you wish to inspect George’s cellar workshop and the items he is creating there, do come to any of the Steampunk-Shrunk stalls at various events over the coming months.

The details of venues, dates and times can be found on the home page of this website.  

Oh, and if you come along, do ask George to demonstrate the time machine.  He loves to show off his workmanship.

 

 

Steampunk Christmas?

The two terms don’t sit particularly comfortably together, I feel.  As I pondered the possibility of adding seasonal items to Steampunk-Shrunk’s stock for the upcoming Christmas sales, images of rusty Santas and welded junk Christmas trees felt less than inspiring.

I’d more or less given up, when I opened a draw and found some of these little creatures, bought in last year’s January sales, peering hopefully up at me.

There was already a box of vintage watch parts sitting on the desk, and the two seemed to fit together perfectly.

So now there are some steampunked reindeer, some with tiny cogs for eyes, while others have real (industrial grade) rubies – Rudolph the red-eyed reindeer?

By now some modicum of Christmas spirit was seeping into my veins and I started hunting around the studio for other items that could be combined to create something festive.
“How would one decorate a steampunk Christmas tree?” I asked myself.
Idly I began twisting wire around needles to form coils and threading them with whatever came to hand – vintage beads from an old necklace, cog wheels and watch parts, bells, charms and even miniature teapots. The copper coils were bent and twisted at crazy angles and the weird, dangling objects that emerged were hung from lengths of ribbon.

Who can say whether others will share my concept of a steampunk Christmas?  Time will tell.

These One Of A Kind oddities will be on display at the two December stalls where Steampunk-Shrunk is exhibiting.  See home page on this site for details of dates, times and venues.

Autolycus

Sometimes we like to push ourselves a bit – yes?

I fell in love with this image on Instagram and decided to try and make something similar at 1/12 scale... I had these cheap old prams kicking around, so they were the starting point. 
www.steampunk-shrunk.com 
#steampunkshrunk #steampunk #miniatures #modellingSo I was staring at this gorgeous picture on Instagram – yes, this one here – and thinking how much I’d like to create something like it.  Now I don’t have a soldering iron or any other metal-working skills or equipment.  My woodworking ability stops at cutting up coffee stirrers and lolly sticks with a junior hacksaw.  In fact, I’m strictly a glue-and-cardboard person if I need to make anything rigid.  It didn’t look particularly hopeful.

Then I remembered that I had a couple of cheap 1:12 scale metal prams.  I put them next to the photo and decided the larger one might just work.  Well, it was worth a try.

First part mounted on the chassis. 
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#steampunkshrunk #steampunk #miniatures #modellingFirst there was much measuring, pattern cutting and trial and error with some nice brown card I had lying about.  Next each piece was lined with card-backed fabric in a subdued floral pattern and the centre part of the body was glued in place.  It looked roughly the right shape.

Putting together the dashboard, steering wheel and brake was easy, as was the little padded leather seat.  My horseless carriage was coming together.

If it was going to be horseless, it needed an alternative power source.  Steam – obviously.  I cobbled together a little steam engine to go on the front and used a drinking straw covered in copper tape for the funnel.

The basic bodywork in place (cardboard with several coats of clear gloss varnish)
www.steampunk-shrunk.com 
#steampunkshrunk #steampunk #miniatures #modellingIt was at around this point that the vehicle’s name came to me.  In Shakespeare’s A Winter’s Tale, there’s a character called Autolycus.  He describes himself as ‘A snapper-up of unconsidered trifles’ and that is exactly what this vehicle was becoming.  A spring from a ballpoint pen, the stick from a cotton bud, several small rubber washers, along with beads, chains, charms and jump rings from my junk jewellery collection all went into it.  So The Autolycus it would be.

The boot was turned into a strong box, with tiny nail art crystals for the rivets.  The windows were cut from clear acrylic packaging and set into suede strip seals.

Finally – and very nervously – I put the whole body together.  A couple of coats of clear gloss acrylic varnish gave it look not too unlike polished wood, and strips of leather thong worked well for trims.  The roof frame was – obviously – made from coffee stirrers!  The door was attached with a strip of cotton tape and some faux hinges made of beads stuck to the outside.  More beads and some earring wires made a pair of suitably ancient-looking lamps and at last The Autolycus was finished.

Obviously it lacks the beautiful clean lines of the vehicle that inspired it, but I’m not unhappy with the overall result and I’m sure the ladies and gents at Steampunk-Shrunk will be rather interested in this strange vehicle, despite the fact that it’s the steampunk equivalent of a smart car and only the skinniest and most agile contortionist would be able to get inside and steer the thing. No automatic alt text available.

 

The Autolycus will be on display at various Steampunk days and miniature fairs in the New Year.  Check the home page on this site for details of dates and venues.

 

 

A Point of Honour

Freddy.
Www.steampunk-shrunk.com 
#steampunkshrunk #steampunk #miniatures #modellingFreddy Huntington-Groff casually selected one of the silver-handled screwdrivers from his breast pocket and lifted the bonnet.

“Hang on, old chap,” Tobias cried, leaping from the driving seat and vaulting over the door.  “What do you think you’re doing?”
“Fan belt needs tightening. Can’t you hear it when you start her up? Won’t take a jiffy. There. that should do it. Start her up again old boy. She should purr like a kitten now.”
“I’ll check later. Got some pressing business to attend to right now,” muttered Tobias savagely as he strode away.

Yes, tensions were building. Tobias had always viewed the car as his ‘Angel’ but now, with Freddy’s arrival on the scene, he appeared to have a rival.

Freddy was quietly spoken, handsome, suave – some would say oily. He knew all there was to be known about cars, and when he slipped on his driving goggles, took his place at the wheel and tossed his top hat on to the passenger seat, he looked as if he belonged there.
“Don’t mind if I take her for a spin, do you?” he’d enquire, casually, while Tobias stood by, smouldering.

It happened that the Admiral’s wife, the lovely Josephine Cholmondeley, was observing these events.
“Gentlemen,” she murmured sweetly, when Freddy returned from his drive with a barely-concealed smirk playing around his lips, “Surely there is a dignified way for you to settle your differences?”

Both men turned to look at her. It was difficult to look anywhere else when Josephine was in the vicinity.
“What are you suggesting, Madam?” asked Freddy, somewhat cautiously.
“I believe Lady Josephine is suggesting a duel,” said Tobias, his eyes glittering more dangerously than ever. “Am I correct, Your Ladyship?”

Josephine laughed softly. “It would indeed be an honourable solution, Mister Blasthorner. Shall I arrange a little tiffin party?”
“Ah, what type of weapon did you have in mind?” Freddy enquired.
“Cows, naturally,” replied Josephine.
“What else?” smiled Tobias, grimly. “Cows it is, then. Four o’clock Saturday?”

Freddy’s state of confusion and alarm was not lost on Josephine. “If you’d just accompany me on a perambulation around the grounds, Mister Huntington-Groff,” she murmured sweetly, “I’ll explain the uh, intricacies of the rules of tea-duelling as followed in these parts. I know they can sometimes vary from place to place.”
Gratefully, Freddy took his place at her side.

“Ahem, tea-duelling, Lady Chol-?” began Freddy, when they were out of Tobias’ earshot.
“It’s pronounced ‘Chumley’, dear Sir, and yes, a tea-duel is a most noble way to settle differences in an honourable manner.  No one is injured, but the results are absolutely binding, you understand.”
Freddy nodded, marginally comforted.
“But – cows?” he ventured.
Josephine gave her tinkling laugh. “Malted milk biscuits. They bear the image of a cow; hence the name. Each duellist is given a keg of tea – I always use fine bone china cups. I should have mentioned that I am a certified Tiffin Mistress, qualified to preside at these events.  Very basically, you both dunk your chosen weapon on the command, leave it in the tea for my count of five.  You win by being the last to take a clean nom, or bite, from the biscuit.”

Josephine went on to explain more of the rules, which you, dear reader can discover by watching the cinematographic production above.

The following Monday, I was approached by Tobias.
“Madam,” he said solemnly, “It seems that Huntington-Grof is more suited to working with The Angel than I.  I feel my talent lies more in creative pursuits than fumbling beneath car bonnets.  I have decided to travel to the Steampunk Dolls’ House.  My hope is that from there I will move on to a new home, where my talents and advice will be appreciated.  I hope you understand.”
“Indeed I do, Tobias,” I told him. “I’ll miss you, but I’m sure you’ll be very happy amongst the ladies and gentlemen there.”

The Steampunk Dolls’ House can be found by clicking here.  Car interior complete. 1/12 scale.  The map can be removed from the leather pocket.
Www.steampunk-shrunk.com 
#steampunkshrunk #steampunk #miniatures #vintagecarTobias and several other members of the Steampunk – Shrunk community will be joining the others there within the next few weeks, while Freddy,  Josephine and The Angel will remain with those of us who visit craft fairs, steampunk events and miniatures sales.

 

Tobias and The Angel

This is how Tobias looked when he first arrived at Shrunk Towers.  I think his name was probably Paul or Richard.

After a bit of Steampunk-Shrunk magic, he ended up looking like this – fine leather coat, hand-stitched black wool trousers, satin waistcoat, cravat and a serious facial makeover.

As they are transformed, the little people’s personalities change too.  Tobias oozes charisma, but he does like to call the tune.  That’s why I ended up with The Angel.

There’s a town I visit when I need to replenish my raw material supplies.  It’s the only town I know that has two large branches of Poundland in one street, with Wilko and a bunch of charity shops in between.  It’s that sort of town.  As all my raw materials are bargain-basement, other-people’s-idea-of-rubbish items, it’s the perfect place.

I’d barely started browsing, when I saw the car in a shop window.
“Buy it!” hissed Tobias.
“That?” I asked. “I mean it’s very lovely, and I can see it’s just your size, but look at the paintwork.  It’s dreadful – needs a load of work.  And I don’t DO cars.  And anyway, it isn’t cheap.”
“So haggle,” he replied calmly and insistently. “You can do it up.  It’ll look great.  Just imagine it as the centrepiece on one of your stalls with a driver in a leather coat and goggles…”

So, just to shut him up, I went in and asked what their best price would be.  They offered ten per cent off and – still doubting the wisdom of this – I bought it.

Gleefully, Tobias sat in the driving seat.  “I’ll call her The Angel,” he smiled.  “You won’t regret this, you know.”

Every spare minute was given over to The Angel during the next three days.  Shiny gold and silver nail varnish covered the blotchy detail paintwork.  Gold cord trim made the upholstery look neater.

No automatic alt text available.

The dashboard (two metal washers, two tiny bolts and a strip of tin) was replaced by an array of dials, ‘lights’ and switches, a clock with cogs and a deep blue leather map pocket, complete with removable map.  The scrap jewellery box was raided to create headlamps (a pair of pearl earrings painted over with more nail varnish) and fog lamps.  My signature copper tape (sold as slug repellent) trimmed the details and was used to fix the clear acrylic windscreen in place.   No automatic alt text available.Tobias declared himself satisfied with the result and, pulling down his goggles, climbed back into the driving seat for a photo-shoot.

 

The Grimoire

 

Should the contents of this ancient tome be made public?  We sincerely doubt it.  People approach our sales area, lovingly handle copies of the book and purchase it.  Since it measures only one inch from top to bottom, though, they are incapable of reading the text, so all remains well.

However we have been prevailed upon to make the book’s contents generally available and – with more than a few reservations – have agreed to do so.

The covers and most illustrations are by a singularly talented lady called Betsy, who virtually resides at Chocolate Rabbit.  If you click here you can visit her shop.

The text is ancient and handed down through the ages but compiled many hundreds of years ago by Messrs Aubrey and Dee.  A few copies have recently surfaced and can be purchased via Steampunk – Shrunk.

Spells and Charms    W. Aubrey & J. Dee

Introductory Notes
This being hopefully too small to be viewed with the naked eye, it is to be hoped that what follows will not be taken in too literal a sense by any readers, since following these recipes could result in all manner of foul and unpleasant effects, which could render the reader or his subject insensible or possibly deceased.
You have been warned.
The second reason for keeping to this miniscule size is that we can’t spare the time to write an entire book on a subject of which our knowledge is sadly lacking in any case.
Some preliminary notes on the Philosophers’ Stone.
safely unreadableShould the apostrophe come before or after the s there?  We are not entirely sure whether we speak here of one or multiple philosophers.  Certainly it may be the case that the esteemed authors of this tome were able to conjure this miraculous substance, but we are not telling.  How stupid do you think we are?  History will be able to judge whether or not we have been successful in our attempt to discover the source of eternal youth.  Should this volume be published posthumously, or read in a time when one or both is no longer incarnate, then the reader may judge for himself our lack of success in this area.
So anyway, we digress.  Let us set out a simple recipe for the preparation of the substance you require.  Easy as making scrambled eggs, honestly.
Take equal parts of blood from a recently slaughtered beast – sorry vegetarians and vegans, we’ve lost you already.  Anyway, as we said, blood, mixed with equal parts of phosphorous, zinc, yellow sulphur and spirits of aqua vitae.  The stench will be beyond your wildest imaginings and will reduce grown men to tears and fits of the vapours.  Nevertheless, it is vital to persevere.  Perhaps placing a handkerchief or a nosegay of country herbs close to your nose will be of some assistance.  We sincerely doubt it.  We suspect this will be about a useful as it was in preventing individuals from catching the plague.
Once you have your mixture, it must be distilled at least three times.  We’re assuming you have access to a still.  If not, why on earth are you bothering to read this book?  Honestly – amateurs.  We have no regard for such people.
After the distillation process, you will be left with a clear substance the colour of dark urine.  To this, add an equal quantity of – you guessed it – dark urine.  This should preferably be collected from a virgin at full moon.  However, in our experience, such ladies seem strangely reticent to provide said liquid to honest students of natural science and you may find you have to use your own, or pay the young woman handsomely for the substance.
Next the mixture must be left to putrefy for at least seven weeks.  You will probably find, as we did, that long before this time has elapsed, you will have been evicted from your lodgings and all neighbours within a hundred yard radius will have fled to the countryside, since the odour is rather pungent.
Persevere, dear reader.  You are inching ever closer to the miraculous substance you wish to produce.
The next stage is to obtain one dozen of the finest hens’ eggs, as freshly laid as may be.  Break the eggs into a bowl and do with them as you will.
This might be a good time to make those scrambled eggs we mentioned earlier.  Now retrieve all the eggshells you have just cast upon your midden or added to your recycling bin (depending on the era in which you are reading this).  Place in a mortar – or is it a pestle?  Never really figured out which bit was which.  Anyhow, put them in the bowl-shaped one and pound them vigorously with the other thing.
When they are well smashed, add to them 4 drams of camphor.
Continue to pound vigorously, or simply stick the whole mess in the blender if you have one.  We’re giving ourselves away a bit here, aren’t we?  I think you’ve probably rumbled us by now.  Either this book is an elaborate hoax or we stumbled upon the secrets of time travel and have visited the XX1 century.  Since you don’t know which, though, you’ll just have to keep reading.
each page individually agedNow since this book – which no one will be able to read in any case – is taking an inordinate amount of time to write, we will now do some judicious cutting and pasting.  Kindly pass me the dagger and a pot of the boiled calves’ foot glue, Mr Aubrey, if you’d be so kind.
Take equal parts of blood from a recently slaughtered beast – sorry vegetarians and vegans, we’ve lost you already.  Anyway, as we said, blood, mixed with equal parts of phosphorous, zinc, yellow sulphur and spirits of aqua vitae.  The stench will be beyond your wildest imaginings and will reduce grown men to tears and fits of the vapours.  Nevertheless, it is vital to persevere.  Perhaps placing a    handkerchief or a nosegay of country herbs    close to your nose will be of some assistance.  We sincerely doubt it.  We suspect this will be about a useful as it was in preventing individuals from catching the plague.
Once you have your mixture, it must be distilled at least three times.  We’re assuming you have access to a still.  If not, why on earth are you bothering to read this book?  Honestly – amateurs.  We have no regard for such people.
After the distillation process, you will be left with a clear substance the colour of dark urine.  To this, add an equal quantity of – you guessed it – dark urine.  This should preferably be collected from a virgin at full moon.  However, in our experience, such ladies seem strangely reticent to provide said liquid to honest students of natural science and you may find you have to use your own, or pay the young woman handsomely for the substance.
Next the mixture must be left to putrefy for at least seven weeks.  You will probably find, as we did, that long before this time has elapsed, you will have been evicted from your lodgings and all neighbours within a hundred yard radius will have fled to the countryside, since the odour is rather pungent.
As you will doubtless have gathered, that was a rather longwinded way of saying you need to repeat the initial process.  You now have two vats of very smelly liquid and one of almost as smelly powder.
The next step is to combine all of these in a large iron cauldron.  This must then be heated over a fire, stirring continuously for the first fifteen hours.
After that, leave it to simmer until all the liquid has evaporated and you are left with a blackened crust at the bottom of the cauldron.  This must be scraped from the vessel and pounded.  We do like a good bit of pounding.
We suggest mixing this with half a jar of Modge Podge.  This is a wondrous substance available in the XX1 century and does the job like no other.
Congratulations.  Once it has set, you will have your very own philosopher’s or philosophers’ stone.
As you will see in the illustration, you will now be able to grow an extra head and stand atop a fire-breathing dragon with total impunity.

 

On Traversing Time
This is obviously the real reason you purchased this volume.
That [illustration – you’d need to buy the book to see it] is a very lame attempt to make this look vaguely mathematical, but since you won’t be able to read it (and nor will the guy we lifted the page from) there’s no harm in it really and we have almost half a book to fill.
Some preliminary notes on traversing time:
Basically, time is no more than a convenient form of measurement.  We are accustomed to using it in one direction only, from past, through the present and towards an uncertain and – as most common people believe – unknowable future.
However there is far more to time than that.  If you are in doubt, we suggest a visit to Old Mother Hambledon at the third cottage after the gallows on Black Heath Common.
Half an hour in the company of this good woman will convince you of one of two things – either that time is quite capable of standing still, since half an hour in her company is equivalent to several days in the company of any other, or – should she be having one of her good days – that she is capable of seeing into the future as easily as you can see this book in front of your face.
Once it has become apparent to you that time can be – let us say – manipulated, you will be eager to experiment further.
It would be tempting to explore metaphysics at this point and talk some real sense, as we have in fact performed some fascinating experiments in this area.  This is, however a grimoire, and as such, you will be expecting a set of arcane charms, spells and other superstitious twaddle.
Far be it from us to disappoint a willing audience.  We get royalties on this book.  They are derisory, of course, but nevertheless, they keep the banshees, hobgoblins and other nasties from the door.
So, a spell you will get.
A Spell to Traverse Time
One groat’s worth of raw liver, chopped finely
A generous handful of henbane
111 fly agaric mushrooms
11 spoons of goose grease
A pinch of white arsenic
A quart of fine ale
Pulverise and mix all the ingredients, then heat in your cauldron.  It may be advisable to wash out the cauldron if you have recently prepared the philosopher’s or philosophers’ stone.
Please note, in this volume we use Roman numerals.  It is an ancient grimoire, after all.  We are just slightly concerned that some readers may have read the recipe as one hundred and eleven mushrooms, as opposed to three.  Believe us, three will be plenty.
Anyway, back to the spell.  Stir the mixture seventy-five times widdershins by a waning moon.
Continue to pound vigorously, or simply stick the whole mess in the blender if you have one.  We’re giving ourselves away a bit here, aren’t we?  I think you’ve probably rumbled us by now.  Either this book is an elaborate hoax or we stumbled upon the secrets of time travel and have visited the XX1 century.  Since you don’t know which, though, you’ll just have to keep reading.
Yes, we admit it.  Another cut and paste job.  It’s getting late.
Allow the mixture to cool.
Imbibe as much as you can without vomiting too profusely and remain seated.  If you have followed the recipe exactly, you will find your head begins to spin.  No, that wasn’t figurative.  We mean it.  You will then find yourself rising into the aether and experiencing life in a very different time frame to the one you normally inhabit.
Do not be overly alarmed, unless of course you find yourself in a particularly alarming period of the past or future.  In which case, feel free to be as alarmed as seems prudent.
The effects of the potion will wear off at some point, but not – naturally – a point in time, since you have traversed that medium, remember?
We hope you find the experience as edifying and instructive as you wish it to be.  There are a few side effects, so if you should experience nausea, dizziness, ringing in the ears, or any other appendage, don’t attempt litigation.  We – remember – are highly experienced time travellers and you will never catch up with us.

 

A Charm to Cure Warts
Every spell book has one of these.  We have no idea why.  What’s the problem with warts anyway?  Surely a charm to cure smallpox or world poverty or something would be far more useful, but our editor insisted.
“Give them a wart spell, boys,” he told us, and who are we to argue?
Here you are then:
      Tie a piece of white muslin around the affected area.  Spit upon it copiously and turn around 111 (that’s three) times, repeating this ditty:
Begone thou warty and mendicant wart.
I wish to see thee no more
As thou offendst mine eyen.
Drop from my body and sink in the dust
There to be consumed
By a ravaging cur or starving she-wolf
Or a rampaging hedgehog or badger.
In fact I’m not fussed what eats thee
So long as thou leavest me in peace.
I trust thou hast the message by now.
Begone thou foul and loathly wart.
 If that doesn’t do the trick, we are sorry to say that you are stuck with the wart.  But hey, it could be a plague of boils, so really, just be happy with your lot.

 

We hope you have enjoyed our grimoire.  Do visit our Amazon page if you ever find yourself in a time when such things exist.

 

Illustrated copies of the Grimoire are available From Steampunk – Shrunk at £4.50 each and can be shipped for the cost of a large letter.  Please use the contact form on our home page.  This is a limited edition of 99 books and each is individually compiled and aged by hand.