Struggling sheep herders stumble upon black goo not knowing 525 years later it would be rocket fuel for a $23 billion industry...
And it has nothing to do with cars, rockets or space ships ... instead it's a simple tool that's been used by everyone all over the globe
Taking care of a flock of sheep is hard work, especially if you happen to be doing it during the 16th century in England. It was a labor-intensive task carried out by shepherds who lived somewhat semi-nomadic lives.
In Cumberland, which is located in the northern part of England close to the border of Scotland, shepherds were typically men from lower social classes and at times it was a struggle to make enough money to feed their families. They often had to move from one area to another, finding new fields for their herds. These men would guide their flocks across open fields or sometimes stopping at designated grazing lands.
Back then the “open field” concept was used by farmers raising a variety of livestock. This means that people living in small towns willingly shared the fields that surrounded their villages. Anyone who owned livestock had automatic “grazing rights.”
As sheep roamed those open fields, shepherds used what was known as a crook to keep the animals from wondering too far off as well as to protect them from hungry wolves. A crook is simply a shepherd’s hooked staff.
Many of the open fields had their share of shrubbery, bushes and trees. They gave the shepherds coverage from the sun and storms. Those storms could be nothing more than a gentle rain or a strong and steady down pour. Or they could be down right violent, uprooting trees especially in the rugged valley region of Borrowdale England.
The landscape here is shaped by steep fells, dense woodlands, and the winding River Derwent, with a climate often wet and windy, typical of northern England. The valley stretched south from Derwentwater, which is flanked by craggy hills like Honister Pass and the looming Scafell Pike, England’s highest peak, not far off.
There’s Black Goo Under Those Trees
I can’t tell you the exact date, but one day (as legend goes) the Borrowdale area experienced a violet thunderstorm that toppled many trees. As the town shepherds were trolling the area to make sure their sheep were safe, they noticed a dark black goo-like substance lining the wholes in the ground from the uprooted trees.
They had never seen anything like this before. What they were looking at were soft slippery lumps or nodules, sometimes fist-sized or larger, embedded in the soil. But what they actually discovered was a graphite vein from the nearby Seathwaite mine.
These chunks, which had a certain sheen, felt smooth and slightly greasy-gooey to the touch. And because of graphite’s carbon structure, it was soft enough to leave a mark when dragged across a surface.
They called their discovery black wad. And because the black wad could leave a mark, the shepherds had an idea: What if they used the black wad to mark up the sheep.
You see since their flocks were allowed to graze in open fields, it was a pretty common thing for the herds to get mixed up. There were two ways used to determine who owned each flock: (1) a notch cut into the sheep’s ear or (2) branding them on their hind quarters.
But the process was time consuming and one could say it was it pretty uncomfortable for the sheep. However with their new discovery, the shepherds could do away with this method and instead mark the sheep with the black wad. And that’s exactly what they did. The owners of the herds would rub the wad on by hand or use a stick, often making simple symbols—a line, cross, or initial—unique to their flock.
Marking their sheep with the black wad also reduced theft, a real concern in rural areas like Borrowdale. Rustlers would shear or slaughter unmarked sheep without consequence, but a clear mark now tied the animal to its owner, making illicit sales riskier. In some regions, these markings were logged with local authorities or guilds as a kind of early livestock registry.
Everyone Wants to Make A Mark
As you can imagine, each time they marked their sheep, the black wad would stain their hands. But these early sheep herders were smart thinkers and figured out that if they wrapped the black wad in sheepskin or string they no longer had to deal with dirty hands.
Now the town folks were talking about these pieces of wrapped black wad and wanted to know if they could use them as a way to mark up packages, bags, containers, ledgers, maps … you name it.
The only way to find out was give it a try and sure enough it worked. Now the sheepherders began selling the black wad markers throughout the town. Soon word spread to nearby villages about these unusual marking tools. And from there word spread throughout all of England.
Over time everyone that lived in England was using the black wad markers. And it wasn’t too much longer from that stormy day find in the hills of northern England that the country became the number one exporter of black wad, or graphite.
And one of their biggest customers was France.
Off With Your Head, Off With Your Graphite
You could say France is the headquarters for luxury goods even as far back as the 16th and 17th centuries. During that time, the country was experiencing a burgeoning industrial sector, especially in textiles.
Ports like Bordeaux and Nantes thrived on colonial trade, including wine exports, and sugar from the Caribbean. The bourgeoisie or middle class, including merchants and manufacturers, grew wealthier, and urban centers like Paris expanded to roughly 650,000 people.
The country also exerted a noticeably large cultural influence through its fashion and art. That bolstered its economic prestige, attracting trade and tourism.
But it also carried a rather large national debt. In fact by 1788, it had ballooned to approximately 4–5 billion livres (about $760 million US dollars), with annual interest payments consuming about 50% of government revenue.
Something had to give and so in 1789 the people of France started protesting. They weren’t just protesting against the debt but the royal family. French citizens no longer wanted to be ruled by the current monarchy, which was lead by Louis XVI from the House of Bourbon.
So outraged by the royal family’s spending habits and how out of touch they were with their citizens, a group of revolutionaries stormed the Tuileries Palace, forcing Louis XVI and his family to flee to the nearby Legislative Assembly for protection.
The monarchy was suspended, and the royal family was effectively under house arrest in the Tuileries Palace for a short period. However on August 13, 1792, the decision was made to transfer Louis XVI, Marie Antoinette, their children (Marie-Thérèse and Louis-Charles, the Dauphin), and other family members (like Madame Élisabeth, Louis’s sister) to the Temple Prison in Paris.
In December 1792, King Louis was separated from his family to face charges of treason. He was tried by the National Convention, found guilty, and executed by guillotine on January 21, 1793, at the Place de la Révolution (now Place de la Concorde).
One year later on October 14–15, 1793, Marie Antoinette was tried by the Revolutionary Tribunal on charges of treason, depletion of the national treasury, and even fabricated accusations of incest with her son. She was found guilty and her head cut off by guillotine on October 16, 1793, also at the Place de la Révolution.
Both Louis and Marie’s bodies were buried in an unmarked grave nearby Madeleine Cemetery, a mass burial ground for guillotine victims.
Louis and Marie’s daughter, Marie-Thérèse was eventually released from prison at the age of 17 in December 1795. However their son and heir to the throne, Louis-Charles was treated oh so horribly. He was barely feed and kept in a dark, damp dungeon. And that is where he died at the age of 10 from tuberculous.
The execution of Louis XVI and his wife Marie Antoinette outraged European royalism, including Britain, which saw it as a threat to the stability of traditional monarchies.
In truth Prime Minister William Pitt the Younger, was alarmed by the radical changes in France and the potential spread of revolutionary ideas to his own shores. England refused to recognize the newly installed French Republic and that’s why on February 1, 1793 French declared war on Britain.
Well as it turns out if you declare war on another country, that country might just cut off all trade including things you need and like such as graphite.
Bake It Your Own Way
It’s not that graphite is only found in England, it’s that the quality was superior to other places. While France had graphite of it’s own, it just couldn’t hold up under pressure.
It often fell apart when used to create a marking tool. Something had to be done to remedy the situation.
So Lazare Nicolas Marguerite Carnot, a key figure in the French government asked Nicolas-Jacques Conté, a French inventor and mechanical genius to come up with a solution.
Conté began a series of experiments including one that proved quite successful. Knowing the graphite supply he had to work with was a weaker material, Nicolas ground it up into a fine powder, then mixed in various amounts of clay.
This mixture allowed him to control the hardness and darkness of the pencil lead—more clay resulted in a harder lead, while more graphite produced a softer, darker mark.
The graphite-clay blend was then shaped into thin rods and fired in a kiln at high temperatures (around 1,900 degrees Fahrenheit). This baking process solidified the mixture, creating a durable and consistent pencil lead that could be adjusted for different uses.
But it wasn’t enough to have these baked pencil rods alone. He needed a way to wrap the rods so they wouldn’t make your hands dirty or break as you used them. Being an inventor with a curious mind, Nicolas decided it would be best if he pressed the rods between two half-cylinders of wood.
This design not only stabilized the lead but also made the pencil easier to sharpen and handle compared to sheepskin wrapped version. Nicolas named his pencils, crayons Conté.
He later patented his invention in 1795 (Patent No. 32) and established la Société Conté with his brother to manufacture pencils. Now France had the ability to produce its own pencils, reducing reliance on foreign imports particularly that of England.
Make it Look Like Royalty
After Nicolas’ breakthrough, just about every other European country was experimenting with making pencils. One of those countries was Austria and one of it’s popular inventors and entrepreneurs was a man named Joseph Hardtmuth,
He did something most pencil manufacturers never thought to do … paint the wood that encased the graphite. You see most of the pencils back then were wrapped in cheap wood. They didn’t look pretty but no one really cared as long as they worked.
But Joseph had a “one good idea" that in essence was a genius marketing tactic. He painted the wood yellow. And he picked that color on purpose.
You see Joseph was using high-quality graphite from a newly discovered deposit in China, specifically from the Ch’ien-Chin-T’ang ("Palace of Heaven") mine in the Hunan province.
He chose the color yellow, which was often associated with Chinese royalty. And in doing so, he could now market his version of the pencil as a luxury item. Not only that, but he named his pencil the Koh-I-Noor 500. It was a huge success.
Joseph even showcased his pencil at the World’s Columbian Exposition held in Chicago in 1893. This global stage boosted its visibility, and American manufacturers as well as Europeans took note, beginning to adopt yellow as a standard color for high-quality pencils.
Here a Pencil, There A Pencil, Pencils Everywhere
Of all the companies that were now engaged in producing pencils, one would dominate the market: Faber-Castell.
That company’s origins can be traced back to 1761 to a young man by the name of Kaspar Faber, a cabinet-maker in Stein, near Nuremberg, Germany. Kaspar started producing pencils in his spare time to sell at local markets. He was hoping to make enough money to help feed and care for his family.
Kaspar’s operation, initially called A.W. Faber after his son Anton Wilhelm Faber, was modest but successful enough to establish a family business. As the business grew, Kaspar began using graphite from Siberia and cedar wood, which he imported from Florida.
He was making a name for himself and his company. And he ran the company until the year of his death in 1784. Then his son, Anton Wilhelm took over, expanding the business by building a factory in Stein, where the company’s headquarters remain today. Anton continued to run the family business until his death in October 1784.
Keeping it all in the family, his brother Georg Leonhard Faberson was the next in line to run the business. When Georg passed away in 1839, his son Johann Lothar Freiherr von Faber assumed control of the pencil manufacturer at the age of 22.
When he took over the company was making pencils locally, producing about 100,000 pencils a year. Yet Johann had his sights set on bigger things. Much bigger things!
He wanted to expand globally. So Lothar aggressively pursued international markets, opening branches in New York (1849), London (1851), Paris (1855), and Vienna (1872). His participation in the Great Exhibition of 1851 in London showcased A.W. Faber pencils, earning medals and boosting their reputation.
He also made one of the most significant contributions to the pencil making process - he set standards. He established uniform lengths (175 mm), diameters (7.5 mm), and lead hardness grades (e.g., precursors to the modern HB, 2B, 4H system), which improved quality and reliability. This standardization, patented in the 1840s, set A.W. Faber apart from competitors and became an industry benchmark.
Today A.W. Faber is the largest pencil manufacturer in the world. They produce roughly 2.3 billion pencils a year. Their revenue is around $704 million a year. The pencil industry itself is now a $23 billion industry.
If only those shepherds knew that black greasy-gooey black wad they discovered all those years ago would become rocket fuel for a gigantic industry where just about everyone world-wide has held a pencil in their hands.
Amazing Quotes from Amazing People
“Mistakes are the portals of discovery.” — James Joyce
Such an interesting read, Sandra. Thank you. So much specificity - facts laid on. I got a nosebleed thinking of the time and research that must be required to curate so many facts.