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Minecraft is not real life; you cannot stack blocks of dirt infinitely high. This is a shame, because dirt has a lot going for it as a construction material. It is abundant. You can go outside right now and scoop up a handful of dirt into your pockets without anyone stopping you. Just like in Minecraft.
To render dirt into a plausible building material, you need another Minecraft staple: wood. If you take a bunch of sticks, weave them into a tapestry, then slather wet dirt (also known by its technical name mud) and let it dry, you get wattle-n-daub, a method of constructing walls that has been a mainstay for at least 6,000 years, predating mud bricks. Some buildings standing today still have wattle-and-daub panels from 700 years ago.
Stare through my flesh, and look upon my bones. Image credit: Wikimedia Commons
If you fast-forward through the reel of history fast enough, it’s remarkable how consistent some activities are throughout the ages. The tried-n-true technique of slathering a moldable workable paste onto a rigid canvas as a way of constructing walls has barely budged across eons. Even past the industrial revolution, the cutting edge technique at the turn of the 20th century was plaster-n-lath. Instead of random sticks, you use uniform wooden strips. Instead of dirt, you use plaster made out of gypsum — a mineral known for its fire resistance. Same, but different.
A lath and plaster wall. Image credit: Wikimedia Commons .
The problem with slathering paste to make walls is that it is a skilled trade and incredibly labor-intensive. Creating a plaster wall on top of a lath canvas was done in-situ, and required multiple coats, each with its own drying time. You slather, then wait for it to dry, then slather on again, then wait for it to dry again. The walls of a typical home would take a skilled plasterer a week or two to make. The end result was either ok at best, or a wobbly warped mess. You are fighting against gravity after all.
As someone who has spent far too much time battling the quirks of a house built in 1901, I can personally vouch for the joys and sorrows of old plaster-and-lath walls. It’s impossible to mount even lightweight items such as picture frames onto the wall, because even the tiniest hole from nails or the like would crumble and erode into dust. Victorian-era homes relied on picture rail moulding near the ceiling, with hooks strung down to mount anything of significance. You can’t just pick any random spot to put up a picture of your cat; you have to dangle everything from one string, and if you’re dangling one you might as well dangle all.
Oh, what’s that? You want some lateral variety? Tough. Image credit: The grit and polish .
The plaster mixture used then was a homegrown concoction, with recipes matching the climate needs and vernacular material availability. The popular additive was asbestos. While today we all know about its intense toxicity, the reason asbestos became so widespread from the 1870s until the 1970s was because it was extraordinarily fire resistant. It was better to die of a lung disease you didn’t even know about than to die in a house fire you definitely were cognizant of.
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