The basic item of underclothing for a woman in the seventeenth century was the the smock, or shift. For a while the two names were synonymous, but by about 1660 the word smock faded out of use as it had become to have shady connotations. Whatever they called it, it was a long T-shaped garment, made of linen with sleeves, reaching down to below the knees. As with most linen garments of our period, the only surviving examples are of the best quality cloth and are highly embroidered. However, it’s probably safe to assume that the pattern was basically the same for everyone, although some portraits suggest that a low neckline would have been worn with lower cut bodices and perhaps with other clothes. It’s tricky to tell what is worn beneath a folded kerchief. The purpose was probably the same too, to protect the outergarments that would tend not to be washed as often from body oils and perspiration.

Picture left from A Juniper Lecture by John Taylor 1639.

The extant smocks from the first third of the seventeenth century mostly have a standing collar, a single slit neck opening and long fullsleeves. Sadly there are none exactly datable to the 1640s, but these examples are a good guide to what was worn. This one in the V&A, picture from Drea Leed of Elizabethan Costuming is a nice one dated 1630 with a standard pattern and embroidered over the upper body. Much like a man’s shirt, they would be cut from a standard width of linen, anything from 30 to 36 inches wide. There is usually, like this example, a square gusset under the arms, but unlike a shirt there are either long triangular gores inserted in the sides or a looser cut to make the garment fuller and as such easier to walk around in. The V&A example also has a gusset inserted either side of the collar to provide strength.

Here are two photos from the Bath Costume Museum showing a shoulder and underarm gusset. This is an early smock too, dated to 1610, but definitely the style still being worn in the 1640s.

A few really high status smocks have lower necklines that are gathered and tightly stitched onto a narrow neck band (not with a drawstring). This clears the neckline for an off the shoulder look, but these are really ornate with acres of fabric requiring such finely detailed needlework that they should be only considered the preserve of someone of serious wealth, not a common serving girl or army follower. All the museum examples have lines of embroidery, very similar to those on surviving men’s shirts which is no surprise really as both garments, in fact anything made of linen, was considered women’s work. The image linked here shows a portrait of a woman wearing a high necked smock

Smocks were worn both day and night. High class people may have had a separate night smock to change into, but it can be safely assumed that most common folk slept in the smock they wore during the day. Detail from Come Buy A Mousetrap. Pamphlet by Humphrey Crouch 1647

These pictures show two plain (in the sense of undecorated) reproduction smocks from  the 1642 Tailor. On the right with a high neckline and on the left with a lower, more scooped line for wearing with a low cut bodice.

Recommended reading: Janet Arnold Patterns of Fashion 4

The general style is high-waisted with a standing collar though there were other varieties and civilian coats were also worn in the ranks at times. It could have one or two-piece sleeves, and in the second case, the back seam could be left open for a few inches to provide a turn-back. Top of the sleeve wings are not a necessity either, they were the fashion for doublets, though not always seen on soldier’s coats. They may however have provided additional shoulder protection for carrying muskets or pikes on the march. Coats were closed with buttons, closely spaced down the front to run from collar to waist. Twelve buttons is a minimum and the coat would be buttoned to the neck. You can go for cloth or metal, flat or spherical are all ok, though thread wrapped ones may just be a tad too high quality. Picture on the left and above of a coat by The 1642 Tailor.

There are also several schools of thought as to exactly how the coats were cut. One conjecture is that they were sometimes made by unskilled tailors and a pattern was developed to cater for a low level of skill and equipment that involved a squared off pattern that could be torn from the cloth rather than cut. I guess all kinds of patterns were used, the slightly tailored one being my favorite as it is seen in several images from the time, but the square cut, quick fix pattern has the advantage that it uses less cloth, although it’s a moot point about the unskilled tailors. Most if not all the images seem to show a more tailored coat with flared skirts. This link will take you to a variety of pictures from the period.

It is possible however to cut a more stylish coat without wasting too much cloth. This image shows a mock up coat made from one and a quarter yards of broadcloth, an amount found in several records of army issues. It’s short, reaching to just below the thighs and I found that there wasn’t even enough left to make a few cloth buttons with the waste. This coat, referred to in the records as a jump coat is also unlined and should be fastened with 18 or 20 buttons.

Having tried several methods of making coats, and looking at an original in the Colchester Castle Museum, I now believe that the best and quickest method, which would involves using fabric for the shell that is fulled enough so that it holds a cut edge. On this coat (left), the lining was turned in but the wool edge left raw as it was cut. This is common in coats from the late 17^th century and was probably used in the 1640s, and though no extant examples have been identified, it is a good assumption that it could have been used for Civil War coats. Using this type of fabric it is entirely possible to construct the garment by layering the fabrics and oversewing the two together with only a running stitch. The sleeve tops and collar edges would need turning in and the top of the open seams between the tabs would have to be strengthened with extra stitching but the rest could be left raw, even the lower collar edges, leaving little that needed to be turned in and no extra seam allowances. This method also works with montero skirts and peaks. The photo shows a detail of the collar edge and opening of the coat worn at the top.

Issue coats were also much more likely to have been made in batches rather than job lots. A tailor contracted to make a thousand coats for an army would have to subcontract and thus even a bulk order such as for the Oxford army or the army that went to Ireland would be made up of a wide spectrum of cuts and colours as separate bolts of cloth would be used by different tailors who probably also had their own favorite pattern. If you were part of a militia or a trayned band you may have had an issue coat or you may just have worn your own clothes. In this case your top layer would either be a plain Soldier’s coat or perhaps a more tailored doublet, see right.

Selecting what colour coat to wear in reenactment is much like choosing the length of a piece of string.

There are references to coats being issued to soldiers. For instance Oxford regiments were given coats, breeches and montero caps in 1643, so if you were an Oxford royalist in July of that year you would wear a nice new red or blue coat, though not necessarily a well fitting one as uniform issue clothes have never been made to fit.

The red coats would fade rapidly on campaign, the blue ones less so but maybe after only a month or so in the field they would probably be considerably the worse for wear, so the same Oxford royalist half way through the year would wear a coat of a shabby quality that may take several years of reenacting to achieve as this chap from Fairfax’s regiment shows. Picture on the right by Chris Thomas.

For example Hampden’s regiment in the parliament army started in 1642 with issued green coats with yellow linings. By spring of the following year the coats were faded and patched, and as the yellow in the green dye would fade faster than the blue, they would have looked more like a blue-coated regiment. Up until the autumn when a new issue of grey or red coats was made, their clothes would possibly have been supplemented by some civilian doublets. By 1644, having gone through several more changes they would have been in red coats and breeches! Quite a range to choose from should you want to represent this regiment, but not uncommon in long lived units throughout the war.

(info from Common Soldiers Clothing by Stuart Peachey and Alan Turton)

Thus the big problem is that civil war soldiers were not uniformed or regimented in their dress in a way that modern troops are, and as I have described, the coats varied widely even from season to season, so for a particular company or group in reenactment you have to decide the period you are presenting and how to portray the effect that campaigning would have had on the clothes whilst presenting some kind of unified whole.

The picture here shows one solution. The soldiers were issued with authentically dyed uniforms that have faded over time. The blue ones become almost grey in hue, whilst red becomes pale also. The fading is uneven in places, shoulders and sleeve tops for instance losing colour more quickly than the underarms. There are batches of uniforms evident here. Some coats being newer are less faded, producing a parti-coloured effect that may replicate the Oxford army in issued coats, having been in the field for a few months. This photo by Chris Thomas are of Lord Hopton’s, a  regiment of the King’s Army.

The shoe that was worn most by Civil War soldiers is widely known as the latchet shoe, though as far as I can tell, in the 1640s they were just called ‘shoes’. The word refers (naturally if you think about it) to the laces, as this quote from a book by the independent divine Henry Burton printed in 1640 shows:

“The Iewes would not so much as stoop to tye the  latchet of their shooe in the place, where an Image was, least their bowing might seem to be to the Image.”

Shoes may have been issued in their thousands during the wars, ideally three or four times a year, possibly in one of four sizes, which is a clue to the reason they had open sides. A closed sided shoe might seem more practical as it keeps the weather out, but the open sided style is better able to fit a variety of foot shapes, arch sizes etc. as it has a built in adjustment. There are good original illustrations of the kind of basic shoe I’m discussing here and here. The shoes shown above are the ones I wear, made by Sarah Juniper

When you are looking for shoes what you should first consider is exactly the same thing you would for modern shoes. Do they fit? They won’t wear in, they will not stretch, two pairs of socks are not really an option. Shoes will fit or not, some people chose to ignore this but a good seller would rather not sell bad fitting footwear. The sketch on the right shows the main parts of a 1640 style shoe. Drawing by Tod Booth of Re-enactment Shoes

Things to check with off the peg shoes:

Is the shoe made of leather? It sounds obvious but there are synthetic ones.

Is the stitching good or loose?

Does the seller offer a guarantee?

Are they knowledgeable about shoes or are they just a reseller?

Does the shoe feel like it flexes as you walk? If the sole doesn’t flex the upper will stretch and you will get a loose shoe and blisters.

What you need to look for first in a good quality latchet shoe is sturdy all leather construction. A hand made shoe has butt stitched side seams, whereas a machine made example will generally have overlapping seams. There are no inherent problems with non hand stitched shoes, but there are some pitfalls to avoid. Try to find a pair that has a reasonable thickness of leather, rather than multiple layers, and pay attention to the side seam positioning as this is an easy mistake to make in construction and can result in an unhistoric style

.

This is a picture of an actual 17th century open sided shoe from a book called The Romance of the Shoe as far as I can work out and is ideally what you should be looking for. Although this is not a cheap option, a well made pair of latchets should last you a long time if they’re looked after. The square toe isn’t necessary, in fact most shoes of the period had round toes and the theory is that they were more sturdy and harder wearing than square toed examples. The side seam is level with the fastening and also notice the shaping around the heel.

Here are two more repro shoes, both by Chris Thomas. On the left a pair made for a lady, though note there’s no real difference to the men’s shoes above and on the right a more practical close sided shoe that may be more suited for a labourer. As we have discussed, the more open sided shoe was probably more likely to have been army issue as it has a certain amount of size adjustment built in, but this style would be more weather-proof. Notice still that the side seam is more or less in line with the front of the heel.

This guy is a detail from the Shepeard’s Oracles by Francis Quarles, published in 1645. He’s wearing low heeled shoes with large side openings.

Follow this link to a variety of images that show shoes being worn from the period.

And two pictures that show either end of the shoe spectrum. A pair of flat shoes worn by a melon seller from Cries of London 1654 and the King’s heeled shoe from the fronticepiece of Eikon Basilike.

Here are a selection of books that you should read if you are interested in making your own clothes.

The Modern Maker Vol 1by Mathew Gnagy. How to make a doublet in the old way from scratch. I’ve posted a review elsewhere on the blog. Follow this link

Seventeenth-Century Women’s Dress Patterns: Bk. One by Susan North and Jenny Tiramani

A selection of clothes held in the V&A dissected inside and out with photos, x-rays, patterns and sections on techniques. Highly recommended.

Seventeenth-century Women’s Dress Patterns: Book Two: 2 by Susan North and Jenny Tiramani

Book two is not as relavant to the 1640s, but still the same high standards and essential reading if you’re planning a set of bodies.

Seventeenth and Eighteenth-Century Fashion in Detail by Avril Hart and Susan North

No patterns here but some super close-up photography of some lovely clothes from the V&A Museum

Sarah Thursfield’s Perfect Linens

If you want to make shirts and smocks, you need this book. It covers medieval to 19th century, and has all the necessary sewing and stitching instructions. You can buy it directly from Sarah. http://www.sarahthursfield.com/Trade.php

The Cut of Men’s Clothes by Norah Waugh

The Cut of Women’s Clothes by Norah Waugh

Both books are essential reading, even though they are nearly twenty years old. Expensive, but your library will have copies and the Cut of Men’s Clothes in available online as a pdf.

Patterns of Fashion 3: (1560-1620) by Janet Arnold

Patterns of Fashion 4: The cut and construction of linen shirts, smocks, neckwear, headwear and accessories for men and women c. 1540 – 1660

Janet Arnold

Janet Arnold set the benchmark for examining remaining garments and publishing the patterns. Both these books are excellent, though strictly very few of the patterns are from the 1640s.

The Tudor Tailor: Reconstructing Sixteenth-Century Dress by Jane Malcolm-Davies and Ninya Mikhaila

Another excellent book that draws on the lineage of Janet Arnold and takes it a step further. The patterns are not relavant to the mid-seventeenth century, but all the techniques described are. Well worth the money. I’ve been bugging Ninya for years to write the Stuart Tailor. We should start a petition!

Lions of Fashion – Male Fashion of the 16th, 17th, 18th Centuries by Lena Rangström. 

the entire collection of clothes, including some plainer well-worn items, from three centuries of the men of the Swedish royal family, and the quality of photography is mind-blowing. According to Amazon, it seems to be out of print, but order it from your local library today!

Pattern Cutting for Men’s Costume by Elizabeth Friendship This is really good if you want to make your own patterns. I use it constantly for doublets and coats.

Creating Historical Clothes: Pattern Cutting from Tudor to Victorian Times. This is also by Elizabeth is this companion volume for Women’s clothes. It’s recently out and easier to source than the men’s one which seems to have become rather scarce.

Last, but definitely not least, Stuart Peachey has a myriad of small books on common clothes of the period. The new series derives from 5 years of research into original sources. It’s highly recommended for anyone interested in getting it right, though most of the clothes are from pre 1640 and the patterns don’t have quite enough explanation if you are new to making your own clothes. However, Stuart and Gilly will always help if you get stuck. There are thirty titles to come eventually! Spot Stuart at reenactment fairs, or via this weblink which lists all the new titles and when each one will be available. They are nealy all out at time of writing, including the new sexily glossy, rather oddly named users manual. Haynes for the 17th century?

Buttons

17th century buttons were not pierced with two or four holes like those generally used now. Instead they had a shank on the back of the button, and the single attachment hole passed through that.

The picture shows a typical 17th century pewter button on the portable antiquities site. Metal buttons were common, often made from lead, pewter tin or alloys of the same. These were usually cast, and the shank could be formed as one piece with the button, or could be in the form of a twist of copper alloy or iron wire set into the casting. Metal buttons could also be made from copper alloy, either cast as here, or in the case of flat buttons, punched from sheet with a loop soldered on the back.  Buttons could also be made from wood, bone etc, but these styles were also shanked not pierced. Upper class buttons could be in silver, gold, or precious stones.

Another style of button used a core, often of wood, covered in a wrapping of threads. The threads also formed an attachment shank. They could be fairly plain and simple, or use expensive silk or silver and gold thread. The plain example on the left is attached to a possibly 17th century coat in Colchester Museum, and is wrapped in linen thread. The right hand example from the Museum of London, a doublet from the Isham Collection. This is silk and metallic thread wrapped.

Cloth buttons were also common: formed from scraps of cloth, or a wooden core, wrapped in a piece of cloth, these also had a shank formed by binding and stitching. None have survived as far as I know, but here is a row of buttons on a reconstructed soldier’s coat.

Here’s a link to a nice piece about how to make your own thread wrapped and cloth buttons and another here

Two more original examples of thread wrapped buttons. The left hand button a detail from a boys doublet in Abingdon Museum. This button has been wrapped in a chevron pattern. The right hand picture is of an embroidered linen doublet in the Manchester Costume Collection in Platt Hall. The wrapping here starts with 5 or 6 guide threads around which the rest of the thread is anchored. Notice on both buttons that there is a centre knot. This is the top end of the anchoring threads that pass through the fabric of the doublet and form the shank holding the button up.

These buttons on a doublet in a museum in London have lost some of their top threads, showing how they were made, satin wrapped threads around the bead and embroidered over the top.

Have a look at this portrait of Nicholas Lanier. The knots on the top of his buttons can be seen clearly.

And here are some more examples of nice reproduction buttons.

Silk wrapped ones for a rather garish costume at Shakespeare’s Globe by Karl Robinson

Linen thread wrapped one by the 1642 Tailor

Reproduction pewter buttons on a soldier’s coat from Christophu

And last, but by no means least, some chevron wrapped ones by Gina Barrett

Just a few pics of a work in progress from a week or so ago.I may give away some of my secrets here, so don’t spread them around please!

The brief was a red montero with a pointed front skirt and gold braid. The braid comes from Morocco and is just gold wire braided into a cord, more 1640s than all the russia braid that you see in the haberdashery stores which was an 18th century adornment. Here’s a photo of the newly finished and decorated crown.

The next stage of making the hat is to sew together the crown, lining and peak together using the linen strip that will become the internal band of the hat. I have no idea whether 1640s caps had this internal band, but I’ve found it adds to the comfort of the hat and finishes the bottom edge off in a neat though still properly period manner. Here’s the seam half-way finished. It all looks a bit scruffy really, but all the internal workings disappear when the cap is finished.

One this seam is done, all the excess fabric is cut away, leaving as small a seam allowance as I dare. The next photo shows the crown and peak finished, just waiting for the skirt to be fixed on. From this stage, all that needs doing is the skirt to be sewn to the outside of the crown, maintaining a half inch or so between the bottom edge of the crown and the skirt and then whipping down the internal band to hide all the scruffy inside seams. Voila!