Chapter 172 Traveling Through the Middle Ages 172

Chapter 172: Journey Through the Middle Ages

With the technological capabilities of the mid-to-late Middle Ages, producing the initial version of the Spinning Jenny posed no obstacles—it was purely a conceptual breakthrough. A large driving wheel powering multiple driven wheels became common in later eras, and even at this time, some complex machinery already employed such mechanisms. It was just that when spinning wheels were still novelties, people hadn’t thought to apply it there.

So with just a hint from Louisa, Leon grasped the idea completely and saw great potential in it. Afterward, he took materials and apprentices to work in isolation—quite literally, except what they were building was a spinning wheel.

While Leon was developing the prototype Spinning Jenny, Louisa wasn’t idle either. She ordered the Horned Manor (so named for its distinctive feature) to prepare the site for the spinning workshop while also attempting to design a carding machine herself—a device used for preparing wool fibers before spinning. The spinning workshops were to be established under her name and expanded to suitable manors across Brudo, but an initial site was needed first—Louisa deemed Horned Manor ideal.

In fact, for manors like Horned Manor, which produced large quantities of wool locally or nearby, it wouldn’t be unreasonable to take on the entire preparatory stages of wool textile production, right up to spinning yarn. Shearing, sorting, washing, and carding wool were the early processing steps for spinning. Shearing, of course, was already done in the countryside, and washing wool didn’t necessarily favor urban settings—it mainly required water and space, resources more abundant in rural areas.

However, washing and carding wool, especially carding, along with the sorting intertwined in these processes, required a dedicated laborers, which the countryside lacked.

Thus, in Louisa’s vision, only a few particularly suitable manors would take on multiple preparatory stages, while others would simply operate spinning workshops—this also prevented rural labor from encroaching on urban jobs, as unlike spinning, other processes weren’t already concentrated in the countryside and facing constant demand.

Compared to the Spinning Jenny, the carding machine was actually simpler. Months earlier, while visiting various wool textile workshops in Zeblan and observing their entirely manual carding process, Louisa had already formed some ideas. Back then, she hadn’t planned to enter the textile industry, so she hadn’t pursued it further… Thus, two days later, when Leon arrived with the prototype Spinning Jenny, Louisa had also completed the design drawings for her envisioned carding machine.

Louisa wasn’t in a hurry to reveal the carding machine designs, opting instead to test the spinning wheel first.

Following Louisa’s instructions, Leon’s spinning wheel featured a horizontally extended large driving wheel connected via multiple cords to several small driven wheels, each with vertical spindles holding hollow, cylindrical bobbins.

Louisa and her maidservants set to work, each taking a combed tuft of wool to begin spinning—for women of this era, even those of high status, such tasks were second nature. Everyone could do it, though skill and efficiency varied.

After simply starting a thread and securing it to the spindle, the other end of the wool tuft was hung on the sparse wooden teeth at the front of the spinning wheel, near the operator. The design also included two horizontal bars behind these teeth, with the upper one movable for convenience, even fitted with a handle. These two bars formed a structure called the sliding carriage, with the upper bar technically termed the tension bar, meant to mimic the hand’s motion in drafting the fibers, ensuring even thickness.

Of course, this couldn’t compare to manual spinning—human hands were far more delicate and flexible, producing smoother, tighter yarn. Even the spinning wheel couldn’t match it, as it merely replaced hand-turned spindles with a fixed large wheel driving the spindle. While this made the work easier and improved efficiency, the actual drafting of fibers still relied on human hands.

Operating the wooden spinning wheel for the first time, Louisa was still unskilled, producing uneven yarn. But after a while, she gained proficiency, feeling that with practice, she could at least spin weft yarn. She then stopped to let others try.

While others worked, Louisa observed the machine’s operation more closely. Soon, she noticed an issue with the spindles and asked, "Only seven spindles? Can’t there be more?"

Leon quickly replied, "Based on your idea, we prioritized smooth operation of the driving wheel and the spinning wheel’s width, then maximized the number of spindles... After testing, this is the limit. The spindles must be removable, so spacing can’t be too tight, or else the yarn would need frequent doffing."

This made sense, but Louisa distinctly remembered textbooks mentioning that the Spinning Jenny could drive 16 to 18 spindles simultaneously. Was that a later, improved version requiring higher technical skill?

Recalling textbook illustrations, Louisa vaguely remembered the spindles being arranged in two rows rather than one. She immediately suggested to Leon, "What if we add another row of spindles below the current ones? Ah, but that would make removing the bobbins from above cumbersome."

The bobbins were cylindrical and required space to slide off the spindles. But this wasn’t insurmountable—Louisa soon proposed, "This row of spindles could be designed to pivot outward, secured with a pin during spinning. To remove the yarn, release the pin, flip the spindle outward, and it’s easy to take off."

This sparked her imagination further, and she quickly revised her idea, shaking her head. "No, no, this still isn’t convenient enough. Why remove the yarn every time the bobbin fills? That interrupts spinning, forces cutting the thread, and requires restarting the twist—squandering time, labor, and wool."

The initial segment of yarn was always uneven and thus unusable, hence the waste.

Leon didn’t understand. With manual spindle spinning, the yarn could be wound into as large a ball as desired until the spindle became too heavy to handle. The spinning wheel followed similar logic—with just one spindle, the bobbin could be wound as thick as possible until no more fit.

But now, with multiple spindles side by side, space was limited, forcing frequent removal.

Seeing his confusion, Louisa pointed to the empty space at the machine’s base. "We could add a vertical rod here, like the spindle rows, also driven by the large wheel. After spinning a length of yarn onto the bobbin, pull out a segment and tie it to these two vertical rods, then continue spinning..."

"The lower rods could act as a yarn accumulator... They could even be designed as detachable rods, easily taken out without struggling to unwind tightly wound yarn. This way, we avoid constantly restarting the twist. After removing the rods, replace them with new ones and tie the thread ends to the new rods."

"Of course, this is just a side benefit. If restarting the twist is truly bothersome, we could leave longer thread ends when removing yarn. The real purpose of adding temporary storage is to adjust the 'tension' during spinning." Demonstrating, Louisa explained, "You’ve likely never spun yarn, so this might not occur to you..."

As the bobbins wound thicker, their diameters varied due to uneven initial spinning. Louisa had Leon observe the tension of the threads between the sliding carriage—some were taut, others slack.

"As the bobbins thicken unevenly, each rotation winds different lengths of yarn. Some threads tighten, others have 'excess'... Though the horizontal bar mimics hand-drafting to adjust this, it’s not as flexible as human hands. So..."

"With a yarn accumulator, the problem lessens. After a few winds onto the bobbin, the yarn shifts to the storage rods. Though tension discrepancies may still arise between the rods and bobbins, first, spinning is already complete by then, so tension variations affect quality less. Second, the rods and spindles share the load, increasing margin for error."

"Problems that might’ve caused snags or breaks can now be mitigated—perhaps even resolved. Only significantly greater winding discrepancies would still cause issues..."

The yarn's slackness was plain to see, and Leon, being no fool, immediately grasped Louisa's meaning and began considering how to use the main drive wheel to drive the bottom yarn-storage rods. After some thought, he said, "This would require widening the main drive wheel, otherwise it simply couldn't accommodate so many drive bands. The bands connecting the spindles and the storage rods must each follow their own path without tangling or overlapping, or the transmission would become uneven, even jammed."

Louisa nodded. "It can be widened, but we could also find a way for the same-width drive wheel to hold more drive bands. For example, we could carve recessed 'tracks' into the wheel, so each band has its own path. Even if they're close, they wouldn't tangle as easily. Additionally, we could add a guide plate."

Finding her explanation insufficiently clear, Louisa simply sketched it for Leon. The so-called guide plate was quite simple—an arched wooden frame slightly wider than the main drive wheel with holes laced opposite each other at the top and bottom to thread cords through—much like an arch, except instead of a single string, this guide could have multiple 'strings,' with the drive bands passing through the gaps between them.

Each drive band would pass through its own gap, and this guide plate, placed between the main drive wheel and the spindles, would ensure they were less likely to tangle during transmission.

Leon nodded, indicating he would implement these changes... Truthfully, he might have thought of some of these ideas himself, but certainly not as quickly or thoroughly as Louisa. After all, Louisa was a modern person; many concepts were second nature to her, and she might not even realize how extraordinary her breadth of knowledge and problem-solving ability—cultivated in the modern era—were in ancient times.

Thus, Leon genuinely admired Louisa—not because she was his employer or master, but purely for her 'talent' in mechanics... Unaware that Louisa came from the future, he naturally assumed it was innate genius.

"...Hmm, we could also add a crossbar in front of the spindles, just like the one in front that helps guide the yarn. This would assist in the same way. It wouldn’t need to be wooden—a metal crossbar would be smoother, hanging freely without binding... Since manual adjustment here isn’t practical, it would rely entirely on the yarn’s tension."

After observing for a while, Louisa added another suggestion. This small addition would both assist in guiding the yarn and help regulate tension between the flyer carriage and the spindles. If the yarn was too tight, the metal crossbar's weight would press down, pulling the wool on the opposite side and speeding up the spinning of the tighter yarn. If it was looser, the crossbar would hang lower, effectively tightening the yarn and improving uniformity.

Because this crossbar needed to be flexible enough not to bind (which would prevent it from adjusting to the yarn’s tension), metal was the obvious choice. The lower resistance at the joints and the ability to adjust based on weight made the added cost necessary.

Ideally, even the tension rod on the flyer carriage should be metal for similar reasons. However, since the tension rod could be manually controlled, the extra effort made metal less essential—especially given the low value of labor compared to the tangible cost of a sizable metal component.

Louisa wasn’t building just one spinning machine; a spinning workshop would require many, and with so many estates establishing workshops, the cost of machinery had to be considered carefully.

After finishing her suggestions for improving the first version of the spinning machine, Louisa finally showed Leon the design for the carding machine: "There are two types here—one for coarse carding, the other for fine combing."

Leon examined them closely. The coarse carding machine resembled a swing, with a wooden 'rocking arm' held by a curved 'ship's hull'-shaped frame.

The bottom of the 'rocking arm' had downward-slanting metal teeth, while the stationary comb below had upward-slanting teeth (angled opposite to those on the rocking arm). Wool placed on the stationary comb could be carded simply by gripping the 'rocking rope' (actually wooden) or the back of the 'rocking arm' and rocking it.

As the 'rocking arm' moved, the open front of the stationary comb allowed carded wool to lift and fall easily into a basket below... Far less labor-intensive and more efficient than using hand cards or teasel combs.

Unbeknownst to Louisa, Leon associated this with a swing, whereas she had actually modeled it after a ship's hull. The 'rocking arm' was long and distinctly boat-shaped—as was the opposing toothed stationary comb—ensuring consistent spacing during carding and maximizing the surface area, with no risk of collision regardless of how high it rocked.

Comparing this machine to the handheld paddles most carders used, Leon instantly recognized its advantages. After silently marveling at it, he turned to the fine-combing machine.

This one looked entirely different, consisting of two rollers of different sizes. These rollers were linked—turning a handle on the larger roller caused both to rotate inward or outward (outward for carding).

When rotating outward, coarsely carded wool could be fed beneath the smaller roller, which would draw it between the two rollers. Most of the fully carded fibers would wind onto the larger roller, though some remained on the smaller one.

Both rollers were densely studded with fine, short metal teeth—much finer and closer-set than those on the coarse carding machine, suited to the demands of fine combing.

Once enough fibers had accumulated on the larger roller, nearly covering the teeth, a small tuft could be pulled through a drafting plate—similar to those used by goldsmiths for drawing wire, but here for wool. This ensured uniformity and easier subsequent spinning.

Pulling the wool through the plate would unravel most of it from the roller into even rovings. Any remaining strands could be pried up using a rod inserted through a deliberately left gap (a finger's breadth without teeth) in the roller, then cut free.

This fine-combing machine was equally impressive, and Leon quickly approved it. Soon after returning, he had apprentices build it—the design was already flawless, needing no adjustments. As for himself, he focused entirely on the spinning machine.

The first version required numerous modifications, some needing experimentation to perfect. Thus, when Louisa next saw the improved machine, a week had passed—longer than the wait for the initial prototype.

The wait was worthwhile. The new machine was far more functional. Though still unskilled, Louisa found it smoother to operate; with practice, producing usable weft yarn seemed achievable. More importantly, it now had over a dozen spindles working simultaneously—sixteen, to be exact.

"Excellent, truly excellent... Though it’s a shame it can’t be treadle-operated like a treadle loom. Keeping both hands free would allow better focus on the yarn, correcting irregularities or breaks sooner..." Louisa was satisfied, yet as someone from the future, she couldn’t help but note shortcomings.

Leon could only reply, "Milady, that would be nigh impossible. Your earlier suggestion to position the drive wheel vertically for easier operation is feasible—it requires more precision parts, but within our means, if costlier. But treadle-operated drive with practical utility? Nearly impossible..."

The design wasn’t the issue; the limitations lay in current metalworking skills and materials. Producing a practical machine at reasonable cost this way was unthinkable.

Louisa likely knew this. In her past life, pre-steam spinning machines were always called 'hand-cranked,' never 'treadle-operated.' Everyone recognized the benefits of foot operation—why wasn’t it done? Not for lack of desire, but lack of ability.

So when Leon said this, Louisa could only sigh and say, "Oh, I was just thinking out loud. Rather than that, it might be better to research widening the spinning machine, then have one person solely responsible for turning the wheel while another focuses on tending the yarn..."

Of course, this isn’t easy either. A large driving wheel can only power a limited number of spindles—it can’t be increased indefinitely. Or rather, once a certain number is reached, breakdowns and other problems would shoot up unless corresponding improvements are made elsewhere. In that case, leaving aside whether such improvements can even be achieved, the question of whether the increased cost-benefit ratio is reasonable becomes a major problem!

People living in the industrial age might generally assume that using larger, more productive machines is always a good thing, but the reality is that many small workshops still rely on decades-old equipment. For them, upgrading to larger machines simply isn’t practical—and the same applies here. Chasing after oversized machines in the Middle Ages? That just doesn’t add up.

If a machine that doubles efficiency costs more to build than two of the original machines, what’s the point? Even if it saves some labor, when the difference is marginal, it’s not a game-changer. After all, this is still the pre-industrial era, an age reliant on human and animal power. There’s a ceiling to how much labor machines can reduce.

The number of people needed to operate the current version of the spinning machine wouldn’t be much fewer than for a later, widened large-scale version.

In any case, the matter was more or less settled. Louisa had Leon lead the craftsmen in producing more spinning and carding machines while instructing Ramhorn Manor not to sell any wool this year, reserving it for their own use. For this purpose, wool-washing pools were dug, and two skilled wool-scourers were even brought in from the city to set up a washing facility right on the estate...

Of course, they weren’t solely relying on Ramhorn Manor, this "pilot project," to handle everything from production to processing. Preparations were also made to purchase wool from the surrounding areas. And since Lani was rich in grazing land—hence its natural emergence as a fur trade hub—procuring wool would be a simple task...