Today I’ll be reviewing Diamine Registrar's Blue-Black. This is an iron-gall ink.
Swabs:
This ink had medium shading and no sheen. It is a deep blue that dries to a dark navy. It’s similar to Sailor Sou Boku and Montblanc Midnight Blue. Since this is an iron gall ink, the color will darken as it ages.
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Tomoe River Paper 52 gsm
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Dry Time/Water Resistance:
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Limonaired Ink Card |
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The ink had an average/moderate dry time at 30 seconds and high water resistance. Writing Sample:
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Tomoe River Paper 52 gsm
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This ink had a slightly dry flow.
Overall: Diamine Registrar's Blue-Black is an iron gall ink with medium shading.
Disclaimer: This ink was purchased by me and all opinions/photos are my own. This post was not sponsor
Note: One of my readers wrote a great comment on this ink. I've included it below.
N.M:
"This
ink is one that, unlike most, has a fascinating story behind it. You
see, back before the fountain-pen fancy found its home on the internet,
Diamine Registrar's Ink (as well as two near-equivalents, ESS
Registrar's Ink /formerly Stephens' Writing Fluid/ and Gutenberg
Urkundentinte) were required, by statute law of the UK and the
FRG, to be used on certain handwritten documents that had the force of
law (including legal contracts, narcotics prescriptions, and records of
vital statistics—"hatches, matches, and despatches"). They thus had a
captive market and were essentially used only by that market: lawyers,
government functionaries, C of E clerics, and the odd medical doctor or
two. The Treaty of Versailles was signed with Diamine Registrar's Ink,
as was QE II's oath of office, to give you some idea of its importance.
Unlike all those other ferrogallic/iron-gall inks, which use
gallic/tannic acids as fixatives and anilines as the actual dye (i.e.,
purple/oxblood/blue give the colour, oak galls make it proof against
water), lawyers' inks (hochwertige Eisengallustinten) have gallotannic
acid in such concentration that it essentially serves as a dye all on
its own, plus indigo solely as a nib protectant that happens to have a
tinge of colour so you can see what you've written. The ink contains
gallic acid, tannic acid, sulphuric acid, phenol, and water only. No
surfactants, so writing with it literally feels like writing with water.
About 2014, I was in law school, and one of those government
functionaries came to visit. Jug ears and a long face like a horse–but
he and I shared an interest in higher maths, and I pulled out a piece of
paper on which I'd written some nonsense about Cayleyan geometry or
functionals or Lagrangian physics or something. Only, back then, I used
Herbin's Poussière de Lune as my ink of choice—which ran like a
racehorse at the very thought of water. My proof was thus illegible.
This representative of Her
Majesty's Government shook his head and told me, in so many words, "You
need some properly waterproof ink. I use only one kind. I can't remember
the name—used to be Stephens'—comes in these beastly plastic bottles,
square ones—ask your pater [slang for dad], he'll know." Took me six
months to ask at every stationery shop, both in Cambridge and in
Mayfair. Nobody had any idea what I was talking about until I actually
asked someone in my family, who was quick to point out what it was and
that it wasn't really sold in shops or advertised.
But a good, no, GREAT product sells itself, and now there are blog posts extolling the excellence of what used to be considered Boring In A Pencil Skirt."
"This ink is one that, unlike most, has a fascinating story behind it. You see, back before the fountain-pen fancy found its home on the internet, Diamine Registrar's Ink (as well as two near-equivalents, ESS Registrar's Ink /formerly Stephens' Writing Fluid/ and Gutenberg Urkundentinte) were required, by statute law of the UK and the FRG, to be used on certain handwritten documents that had the force of law (including legal contracts, narcotics prescriptions, and records of vital statistics—"hatches, matches, and despatches"). They thus had a captive market and were essentially used only by that market: lawyers, government functionaries, C of E clerics, and the odd medical doctor or two. The Treaty of Versailles was signed with Diamine Registrar's Ink, as was QE II's oath of office, to give you some idea of its importance.
Unlike all those other ferrogallic/iron-gall inks, which use gallic/tannic acids as fixatives and anilines as the actual dye (i.e., purple/oxblood/blue give the colour, oak galls make it proof against water), lawyers' inks (hochwertige Eisengallustinten) have gallotannic acid in such concentration that it essentially serves as a dye all on its own, plus indigo solely as a nib protectant that happens to have a tinge of colour so you can see what you've written. The ink contains gallic acid, tannic acid, sulphuric acid, phenol, and water only. No surfactants, so writing with it literally feels like writing with water.
About 2014, I was in law school, and one of those government functionaries came to visit. Jug ears and a long face like a horse–but he and I shared an interest in higher maths, and I pulled out a piece of paper on which I'd written some nonsense about Cayleyan geometry or functionals or Lagrangian physics or something. Only, back then, I used Herbin's Poussière de Lune as my ink of choice—which ran like a racehorse at the very thought of water. My proof was thus illegible.
This representative of Her Majesty's Government shook his head and told me, in so many words, "You need some properly waterproof ink. I use only one kind. I can't remember the name—used to be Stephens'—comes in these beastly plastic bottles, square ones—ask your pater [slang for dad], he'll know." Took me six months to ask at every stationery shop, both in Cambridge and in Mayfair. Nobody had any idea what I was talking about until I actually asked someone in my family, who was quick to point out what it was and that it wasn't really sold in shops or advertised.
But a good, no, GREAT product sells itself, and now there are blog posts extolling the excellence of what used to be considered Boring In A Pencil Skirt."