There’s a certain magic in dipping a pen into ink made not in a factory, but simmered up from bits of the landscape around you. For centuries, long before convenient cartridges and bottled synthetic colours, people captured words and images using pigments coaxed from plants, minerals, and even insects. Rediscovering these old ways connects us to history and the natural world in a tangible, deeply satisfying way. Forget sterile blues and blacks for a moment; imagine writing a letter in the deep purple of an elderberry or sketching with the enduring mark of an oak gall.
The Enduring Mark of the Oak Gall
Perhaps the most famous and historically significant natural ink is iron gall ink. Its key ingredient sounds unlikely: the oak gall. These aren’t fruits, but abnormal growths on oak trees, typically formed in response to wasps laying their eggs in the tree’s tissues. The tree produces tannins around the intruder, creating a hard, roundish gall. These galls, particularly those known as Aleppo galls or oak apples, are rich in tannic and gallic acids.
When crushed and combined with water and an iron salt (historically, ferrous sulfate, often called copperas or green vitriol), a chemical reaction occurs. The tannins react with the iron to form ferric tannate, a dark, complex compound. Initially, the ink might appear pale grey or brownish, but upon exposure to air, it oxidizes and darkens to a rich, permanent blue-black or purplish-black. This darkening process is part of what made it so valued; it sank into the paper fibres and became incredibly resistant to fading and water damage.
For over a thousand years, from the Roman era through to the 19th century, iron gall ink was the standard writing ink in the Western world. Countless historical documents, illuminated manuscripts, musical scores by Bach, drawings by Leonardo da Vinci, and the signatures on foundational legal texts were penned in this very substance. Its permanence was its superpower, but also its potential weakness. The acidic nature of the ink could, over centuries, eat through paper, a phenomenon known as ink corrosion, leaving behind lace-like holes where text once stood.
Making a Simple Oak Gall Ink Today
Creating a basic iron gall ink is surprisingly straightforward, though recipes vary wildly. Here’s a general approach:
- Gather Galls: Find oak galls (ensure they are true galls, often hard and woody). Crush them into small pieces or a coarse powder. Older, fallen galls often work well.
- Extraction: Steep the crushed galls in water (rainwater or distilled water is often preferred) for several days, or gently simmer them for an hour or two. The goal is to extract the tannins. Strain the resulting dark liquid through cloth.
- Iron Source: Introduce an iron salt. Ferrous sulfate can be purchased from chemical suppliers or sometimes garden centres (check it’s not mixed with other things). Historically, people might have soaked rusty nails in vinegar or the tannin solution itself, a slower process. Add the iron salt *slowly* and stir – you should see the liquid dramatically darken.
- Binder: Add a binder to help the ink flow smoothly and adhere to the page. Gum arabic is the traditional choice and readily available from art suppliers. Dissolve a small amount in warm water and stir it into the ink.
- Preservative (Optional but Recommended): A few drops of clove oil or even a whole clove popped into the bottle can help prevent mould growth.
The exact ratios depend on the galls, the iron source, and desired consistency. It requires experimentation! Start with small batches. Let the ink sit for a day or two to mature before testing.
The Vibrant Hues of Berries
If iron gall ink is the serious, permanent elder statesman, berry inks are the vibrant, sometimes fleeting, artists of the natural ink world. Think deep elderberry purple, rich blackberry stains, the surprising magenta of pokeberries (use with caution – pokeberry is toxic if ingested!), or the softer tones from raspberries or blueberries. These inks are generally much simpler to make but come with a trade-off: they are often less lightfast and permanent than gall ink.
The process usually involves crushing ripe berries to release their juice. Mashing them in a bowl with a fork or gently heating them can help break down the fruit. The juice is then strained carefully through fine mesh cloth or cheesecloth to remove seeds and solids, which could clog a pen nib. You want as clear a liquid as possible.
Important Safety Note: Never ingest inks made from berries or any plant parts unless you are 100% certain of the plant’s identification and edibility. Some common berries, like pokeberry, are toxic. Always exercise caution and prioritize safety when foraging and creating. Label your inks clearly.
Once you have the strained juice, you’ll likely want to add a binder and a preservative. Without these, the ink might be too watery, soak straight through the paper, or grow mould quickly.
Tips for Berry Inks:
- Binder: Gum arabic works well here too, adding viscosity. Honey was sometimes used historically, but can remain sticky.
- Preservative: A splash of vinegar or a pinch of salt are common additions to help preserve berry inks and prevent spoilage. Rubbing alcohol or vodka can also be used sparingly.
- Colour Modifiers: Experiment by adding a little vinegar (acid) or baking soda (alkali) to small samples of your berry juice – you might see surprising colour shifts!
- Lightfastness: Berry inks are prone to fading, especially in direct sunlight. Think of them more for journaling, sketching, or crafts that won’t be constantly exposed to light. Enjoy their beauty while it lasts!
The fun lies in the experimentation. Each batch will be slightly different depending on the ripeness of the berries and the specific additions you make. Keep notes on what you did so you can try to replicate your favourite results.
Ephemeral Colours from Petals and Leaves
Moving beyond galls and berries, the world of flowers and leaves offers another spectrum of potential colour, though often yielding results more akin to watercolours or dyes than permanent inks. Think of the vibrant yellows from marigolds or goldenrod, the pinks and reds from roses or hibiscus, blues from cornflowers, or even greens extracted from spinach or nettles.
Making ink from flowers usually involves simmering the petals (or leaves) gently in water. You don’t want to boil them vigorously, as this can destroy the delicate colour compounds. A gentle heat for 30 minutes to an hour is often sufficient to infuse the water with colour. Afterwards, strain the liquid thoroughly.
These inks are often very pale and translucent. Adding gum arabic is essential for giving them enough body to function as ink. Like berry inks, they are typically not very lightfast and are best used for artistic purposes where permanence isn’t the primary goal. Their subtle beauty is part of their charm.
Experimenting with Flower and Leaf Colours:
- Mordants: Sometimes, adding a mordant – a substance that helps fix the colour – can enhance the results. Alum (potassium aluminum sulfate), available from pickling suppliers or some pharmacies, or even a bit of iron (ferrous sulfate) can be experimented with *in tiny amounts*, as they can drastically alter the colour. Always test mordants on small samples first.
- pH Sensitivity: Many flower pigments are highly sensitive to pH changes. Adding a drop of lemon juice (acid) or a tiny pinch of baking soda (alkali) can shift colours dramatically, turning blues purple or reds bluish.
- Concentration: You often need a significant amount of plant material to get a reasonably strong colour. Don’t be afraid to pack your pot with petals.
Making these inks is a lesson in appreciating the subtle and often temporary beauty offered by the plant world. They connect you directly to the seasons and the specific plants growing nearby.
A Glimpse into Historical Ink Making
For centuries, ink making wasn’t a quaint hobby; it was a necessary craft. Monks in scriptoriums painstakingly prepared their oak gall inks for copying manuscripts. Scholars, administrators, merchants, and artists all relied on these natural concoctions. Recipes were often closely guarded secrets, passed down through apprenticeships or recorded in commonplace books.
Besides the main types we’ve discussed, other materials were used. Soot (lamp black or carbon black), mixed with a binder, created a deep, permanent black ink used since ancient Egyptian times. Sepia ink came from the ink sacs of cuttlefish. Various earths and minerals could be ground and suspended in binders to create coloured inks or paints.
The process was often labour-intensive. Gathering galls, grinding pigments, carefully measuring ingredients, filtering solutions – it required patience and knowledge. The transition to synthetic aniline dyes and chemical inks in the mid-19th century offered consistency, convenience, and vibrant new colours, gradually pushing most traditional ink-making methods into obscurity, kept alive only by historical reenactors, artists, and dedicated craftspeople.
Making Your Own Natural Inks Today
Why bother making ink from scratch when perfectly good bottles are available? For many, the appeal lies in the process itself. It’s about slowing down, observing the natural world more closely, and creating something unique with your own hands. It’s a sustainable practice, using readily available, renewable resources (provided you harvest responsibly).
Getting Started:**
- Foraging: Learn to identify plants correctly. Harvest responsibly – take only a small amount from any one area, ensuring the plant population remains healthy. Never harvest from private property without permission or from protected areas.
- Equipment: You don’t need much. Old saucepans (preferably not aluminium, which can react with some ingredients), glass jars for storage, cheesecloth or old t-shirts for filtering, measuring spoons, a mortar and pestle or hammer for crushing galls.
- Binders & Preservatives: Gum arabic (buy as powder or crystals and dissolve in warm water) is the most versatile binder. For preservatives, keep salt, vinegar, rubbing alcohol, or whole cloves/clove oil on hand.
- Testing: Use dip pens, brushes, or even feathers or sharpened sticks to test your inks. Different papers will also yield different results. Watercolour paper or thicker cartridge paper usually works well.
Verified Tip: Always label your homemade inks clearly with the ingredients and date made. Keep a notebook detailing your recipes and results, including the source of your plant material and any modifications you made. This record-keeping is invaluable for learning and replicating successful batches. Natural inks can vary greatly, so documentation is key.
Making natural inks is an exploration, a blend of history, chemistry, and art. Don’t be discouraged if your first attempts aren’t perfect. Sometimes the colours are pale, sometimes they fade, sometimes they grow mould despite your best efforts. But the connection you forge – to the oak tree that yielded the galls, the berries that stained your fingers, the history held within these simple liquids – is potent. It’s a reminder that colour, communication, and creativity can spring directly from the earth beneath our feet.
