Astrid

If the value of a wheel can be measured by the lengths taken to keep it spinning, this wheel must have been very highly regarded.  It could be a textbook for how to keep a spinning wheel running with whatever is on hand.  Belying modern wheel owners who too often declare such wheels “a piece of junk,” and those who insist that flyer arms must be “balanced,” with all its makeshift repairs, this wheel still spins beautifully, more than two hundred years after it was made. 

The wheel was part of Joan Cummer’s collection, which she donated to the now-defunct American Textile History Museum.  Along with most of Cummer’s wheels, it was auctioned off after the museum closed and I was fortunate enough to become the next owner.   

Museum accession number

The wheel, “No. 34,” is pictured and described on pages 80-81 in Cummer’s “A Book of Spinning Wheels.”  Cummer notes that it “is probably Scandinavian judging by the slope of the table and general proportions.” (p. 80)  She did not know that the wheel contained a hidden clue as to its origin. 

After bringing the wheel home, I wanted to get it spinning.  On the mandrel, between the bobbin and flyer arms, was a spacer made from layers of leather, cardboard, and newspaper. 

I carefully removed the layers and found that the newspaper pieces were in Swedish and contained Stockholm addresses and the date 1936,

evidence that this wheel—made in 1818—was being used well into the 1930s, either in Sweden, or by Swedish immigrants with access to a Swedish newspaper. 

That was all I knew about this wheel until the fall of 2023, when the Rydals Museum in Sweden advertised on their Facebook page a presentation by Hans Johansson on wheels made in Hyssna, Sweden.  Johansson runs Kvarnen y Hyssna (The Mill at Hyssna) (this link to his website has fantastic old photographs of Hyssna). Johansson is the fourth generation of a mill and sawmill family in Hyssna, a town east of Gothenburg, Sweden.  With its ample water power and lumber, the town had a tradition of woodturning, passed down from father to son since the 16th century.  By the mid-19th century, there were about fifty spinning wheel makers in the area, making a distinctive wheel style associated with Hyssna. 

A typical Hyssna wheel

These “Hyssnarocken” were pictured on the Rydal Museum’s notice of Johansson’s talk and I excitedly realized that my 1818 wheel, Astrid, shared their features. 

Although the museum people confirmed that Astrid likely is a Hyssna wheel, I have not been able to identify the actual maker.  The most well-known Hyssna wheelmakers seem to be fairly recent ones–Johannes Persson and his son, Oscar (who was making wheels into the 1970s).  The 1818 date on Astrid is the earliest I have seen on a Hyssna wheel. 

With that date and the initials “ACSS” on the table end and “BAS” on the table top, it probably would not be too hard to trace the maker.  But, with my limited Swedish skills, I am happy at this point just to know where the wheel is from. 

Hyssna wheels have several distinctive features.  There is a particular tilt to the table and angle of the legs that mark them, even from a distance. 

They have painted highlights, usually in red, green, and black. 

Traces of paint on the spokes

Aside from the painting, the wood has an unfinished, almost rough quality.

The table has initials, and often a date, carved and painted on its top, accompanied by decorative carving. 

As Joan Cummer mentioned in her book, it is generally believed that initials on the end of the table belong to the maker, while those on the top are those of the owner.  Whether that is always the case with Hyssna wheels, I do know, but the wheel in this Clara Falk blog post appears to have Johannes Persson’s initials on the table, if I understand correctly.

Two secondary upright supports extend down to the legs and the axles are held in place with pegs that go down the side of the upright rather than across it. 

Pegless, but you can see the holes

Another unique feature for most Hyssna wheels is the treadle set up, in which the treadling is done by the foot (or feet) resting across the cross bars rather than on a flat treadle piece.  There is a small piece between the cross bars to the right of the spinner’s feet and the spinner-side legs go through the cross bar.

Typical Hyssna treadle set up. This wheel was on FB marketplace–a lot of these wheels come up for sale

Astrid has a more traditional treadle set up, which leads to the fascinating fixes made to this wheel over the years. 

There are holes in the legs for treadle bar pins, which usually would not have been present in Hyssna wheels. Oddly, in this case, in addition to the holes, someone fashioned a metal bracket to hold a pin rather than have it go through the leg. 

It is possible that the treadle set up is a replacement—its turnings and wood look a bit different than the rest of the wheel—and it may not have fit the holes well. Or perhaps it is original and just popped out of the hole too much. A similar metal bracket holds the axle in place after the hole for the axle peg eroded and was no longer functional

and a front axle bearing was made with folded metal hammered into the upright.

While it is hard to tell if the treadle set-up is a replacement, it is easy to see that the spinner-side maiden came from another wheel. 

Not only does it have mismatched turnings, it does not come close to fitting properly in its hole.  The peg to hold it in place is missing but someone stuffed a piece of fabric under the maiden which holds it tight and lends a nice bit of history to the wheel. 

The collar for the mother-of-all is shimmed with layers of paper and leather. 

The wheel rim, still bearing paint traces, has a largish gap showing a peg at an awkward angle. 

The crowning glory of the make-do repairs is the flyer, with its now-rusty metal patch holding a broken flyer arm in place.  I replaced the spacer made of leather and newspaper with some woolen yarn wrapped on the mandrel.  The whole thing looks a mess and certainly is not balanced, but it spins surprisingly well.  

The orifice only has a one-sided opening as it emerges to the flyer.

The table underside is beautifully shaped

but my favorite touch is the decorative shaping of the wheel end of the table. 

Joan Cummer noted that the other “end of the table bearing the tensioning screw is beautifully shaped and sculptured. Much care and pride seems to have been taken in the making of this wheel.”  (p. 80)  I agree.  And much care was taken to keep it functioning for over 200 years. 

Thank you to the Rydals Museum staff for their patience and time in helping me learn about the Hyssna wheels. 

The information on Hyssna wheels is from the Rydal Museum’s summary of Hans Johansson’s presentation and a piece that he wrote: “Spinnrockar, förläggare och svavtradition i Hyssna,” which is in a book available through the museum.

Cummer, Joan, A Book of Spinning Wheels, Peter E. Randall, Portsmouth, N.H. 1984. Wheel 34 is on pp. 80-81. 

Green Linnet

This is an old wheel.  It was part of Joan Cummer’s collection, auctioned off when Lowell’s American Textile History Museum closed.  I was the only person to bid on this wheel at the auction and bought it because Cummer believed it to be the oldest wheel in her collection. 

The underside of the table has a carved date in Roman Numerals of 1707, and the same date is faintly inscribed on the table’s side. 

The wheel is No. 29 in Cummer’s collection and, in her description, she did not question the date, noting that it was compatible with the wheel’s William and Mary turnings. 

According to Cummer, the wheel was believed to have been brought to New England from England. 

I do not know if the wheel is really that old or if it was from England—it has some Scandinavian-style features.

Unfortunately, we do not have many surviving wheels from the early 18th century for comparison and I have not been able to find any similar wheels in paintings. 

I like to think it is over three hundred years old. 

Knotted wood on the inside of one leg

But, even if not quite that old, it has been through a lot. 

As Cummer commented, there seems to be at least one layer of green paint that, while old, is not original. 

The wood that shines through is a beautifully grained reddish color. 

The two secondary upright supports rise from the legs and fall out at the slightest jiggle. One foot is completely broken out where the treadle bar rod was inserted. 

In the leg at the other end, the bar is supported by a metal tube inserted through the wood.

The wheel’s slanty stance is a result of the legs being inserted into angular cuts on the table’s downhill side. 

The circular tree rings are visible on the end of the table. 

The axle is held in place with a large screwed wooden pin,

although the back one is missing.  There are carvings on the table

and at both ends,

a distaff hole,

and multiple grooves down the sides. 

The treadle bars are thick and give plenty of support for two footed treadling. Yet, they are graceful, too. The treadle is now attached with large screws.

 The wheel rim is four parts with a thin shim piece in one join.

The elongated tops of the maidens are particularly lovely. 

The flyer assembly is in good shape

with three-layered leather flyer bearings held together with rivets. 

It appears that the green paint was slathered over everything at some point, including the flyer hooks and leather bearings.

It is an unusual, intriguing wheel and I am always on the lookout for others like it so that we might be able to better establish its age and origin. 

For further reference see:

Cummer, Joan, A Book of Spinning Wheels, Peter E. Randall, Portsmouth, N.H. 1984, pp. 70-71.