HETCHEL
Flax was sown in May, and when the plants were three or four inches high, they were weeded by the women and children, walking barefoot on account of the tender stalks. At the end of June, or in July, it was pulled up very carefully by the roots by men and boys and laid out to dry, being turned several times in the sun: this operation was called “pulling and spreading.” Then came the “rippling,” a process by which the stalks of flax were drawn with a quick stroke through an iron wire comb with coarse teeth: this broke off the seed-bolls, which were caught in a sheet and saved for the next year’s crop. The flax was still in the field, where it was now tied in bundles, called “beats” or “bates,” and stacked in a tent-shaped stack called a “stook.” When the stacks were dry they were again treated with water to rot the leaves. This was called “retting;” the bates of flax were piled in running water in a solid heap, and left for about five days, when they were taken up and the rotting leaves removed. When cleaned and dried the flax was once more tied in bundles. It was then broken by men on the great flax-brake in order to separate the fibres and get out from the centre the hard, woody “hexe” or “bun.” This clumsy instrument need not be described here, further than to say that a heavy beam set with slats, hinged to an under beam also set with slats corresponding to the intervals of the upper one, was weighted and allowed to fall on the flax laid in between. The flax was usually broken twice, then “scutched” or “swingled” with a swingling block and knife to remove any remaining bits of bark. The clean fibres were then made into bundles called “strikes,” which were swingled again, the refuse from the process being used for coarse bagging. The “strikes” were sometimes “beetled,” or pounded in a wooden trough over and over until soft. The flax was now ready for the process of hackling or hetcheling, which required great dexterity on the part of the hetcheler. The flax fibres were carefully drawn towards the hetcheler through the teeth of the hetchel (see illustrations, pages 33 and 34, taken from originals in the Litchfield Historical Society), thus pulling out the fibres into long continuous threads and combing out the shorter threads. This implement has given its name to that process of “heckling” so familiar, for instance, to hen-pecked husbands when lectured by irate wives. Our inelegant but expressive modern slang would say she “combed him down.” These are the “combs” she would use, figuratively at least, if not actually.
WALL HETCHEL
After the first hackle, six other finer ones were frequently applied, and the amount of good fibre left after all this hackling, even from a huge mass of raw material, was very small; but a very large quantity of linen thread could be spun from this small amount. The fibres were then sorted according to fineness by a process called “spreading and drawing.” Now at last the flax was ready for the wheel, and was wrapped around the distaff; the spinner seated herself at this familiar implement and spun out a long, even thread from the mass of fibre on the distaff. This thread she wound on bobbins as she spun it, and when the bobbins were full, she wound it off on a reel into knots and skeins. This was the clock-reel, which ticked when a certain number of strands had been wound in a “knot”; then the spinner would pause and tie the knot, and if at that moment some ardent admirer were watching this pretty and graceful occupation, it is not at all likely that the busy spinster could escape a more tangible proof of his admiration, for it is written that “He kissed Mistress Polly when the clock-reel ticked.”
