How did people make a living whittling?

I was reading the Wikipedia article on whittling, and this sentence popped up:

These days whittling is mainly a hobby and not as living as it used to be before carving machines were invented.

How did people make money whittling? What did they whittle? Did they whistle as they whittled? How much wood could a woodchuck whittle if a woodchuck could whittle wood?

Well, my Grandparents brought back a Dala horse from their honeymoon trip back in 1920. I have it stashed in a box in the barn waiting for us to move somewhere that has enough room to display stuff. Now we can’t swing a cat for lack of space, which probably makes our feline overlords happy.

I seem to remember that Heidi’s Grandfather made money doing small animal wood carvings over the winter which he sent off somewhere to be sold.

Some parts of the ladderback “Seville-style” chairs I just got from my mother (made in the 1960s) are hand-whittled. Many kitchen implements such as bowls, spoons or chopping blocks are still whittled by traditional means in locations where the craft was almost lost, as well as decorative placards; a revival started because of ethnological “awww, it would be a pity if this got lost” reasons turned out to produce items which are popular with tourists, decorators and with those cooks who swear by their boxwood spoon. Both boxwood and olive are very popular.

Voiceover in Spanish: an artisan whittling boxwood spoons in an ethnological museum; lots of links to similar videos from that one.

Surely whittling was never a proper job.

My understanding as that a century or so back, when there was no TV or radio, men would sit and whittle as something (manly?) to do in the long winter evening. Women would knit and crochet, men whittled.

Some of them were good at it and may have found a market for their efforts as tourism began to develop. Before that they probably made useful stuff like spoons, and ornaments. There is a tradition of carving ‘lovespoons’ in Wales, some of which are very intricate and beautiful.

Given a more carving version of whittle,
Google Peter Follansbee or Mary May for two examples of people who make a living whittling, although Peter’s spoon work is closer to the typical definition of whittling.

You whittle while tending your illegal still. Then you claim that your whole income is from whittling. :slight_smile:

If you’re really manly, you whittle jet engines.

In Mozambique, there are professional whittlers today. They carve replacement parts for machinery out of wood. The amount of skill that must take is astounding.

In Germany or Switzerland (forget which) we stopped at a wood-carving place that is still teaching new students the craft. Of course they had various pieces for sale, many were very good. I think the past a whittler would have been employed whittling stuff for cathedrals, churches, palaces, and castles. And there are the cuckoo clocks.

This is a good point. Go far enough back and pretty much the only way to make something out of wood was to whittle it. I guess they’d be called carpenters rather than whittlers.

**

You forget they only made a whittle bit.

Well, there were, and are, different carpenters who did different things. Someone who makes inlaid tables won’t be particularly good at fixing a broken mast without some training - better than a complete layman, sure, but not as good as a carpenter who’s always worked on ships.

Whittling was only used for stuff that is more or less irregular or asymmetrical in shape, so that planes, spokeshaves, lathes etc. could not be used to shape them. These tools have been around for the past couple thousand years, as have professionals using them. Whittlers were not synonymous with carpenters.

My father used to whittle fishing lures and sold them on occassion. I do some whittling on my bows and arrows but primarily use draw knives.

Before the Industrial Revolution made it easy to power factories with steam, the Brotherhood of Matchstick and Toothpick Whittlers union pretty much blocked out any types of reform. They would work from 5:00 AM until 9:30 AM, break for morning tea, then continue from 9:45 AM until noon. In the afternoon, they would work from 1:00 PM until 6:00 PM, with a 15 minute break for afternoon tea.

It was bone-numbing, back-hunching work. Each man (only men were allowed to have knives in those days) was responsible for turning a stick approximately 2 feet long with a diameter of just under an inch into boxes of matchsticks or toothpicks. The Master Whittlers were expected to get 5 boxes of toothpicks or 7 boxes of matchsticks out of the base stick provided.

The men were paid at a rate of one ha’ penny per 8 matchsticks or 4 toothpicks. This wasn’t much, but at the time, it allowed the men to provide for their families and kept a roof over their heads.

The men would sit on stools, hunched over all day, whittling away. In 1805, the union successfully petitioned for – and received – permission to allow the men to sit in rocking chairs, and morale throughout the union greatly improved. However, the union was never able to do anything about the risks to the whittlers’ hands, though. The occasional nick or cut was always an occupational hazard to those brave men. Personal hygiene being what it was in those days, however, meant that even a simple nick could lead to the loss of a finger or hand due to infection.

The advent of steam power, though, meant that machines could whittle the matchsticks and toothpicks at a much faster rate, with one machine doing the work of 3 and even 4 whittlers. Despite the danger of infection and the lower-back problems associated with rocking for many hours, the union fought long and hard to keep the machines out of the factories, but they were ultimately unsuccessful.

The last union boss of the Brotherhood of Matchstick and Toothpick Whittlers union, Thomas “Mumblety” Pegg, rose through the ranks of the whittling profession. He started at the age of 7 as a “stick fetcher”, and brought each man the stick he needed at the right time. By the time he was 12, Pegg had shown that he could not only whittle matchsticks with their one flat end and one slightly curved end, but he had also mastered the technique of whittling the double-pointed-end for the toothpicks. He had lost 3 fingers on his left hand before he reached the age of 21, but by the age of 28, he had become the shop steward for Local 873 of the union. He became the head of the union at the age of 54, but unfortunately, he is perhaps best remembered for presiding over the merger of the Brotherhood of Matchstick and Toothpick Whittlers union with the International Federation of Woodcarvers and Spoon-makers in 1859.

Someday, BobArrgh’s post is going to show up in a high school paper as fact in a historical essay on whittling.

And the teacher will say “Good job on that citation, fascinating information”.

That’s probably why inlayer and shipwright don’t sound much the same at all.