The ins-and-outs of late medieval underwear
As part of my Golden Egg challenge to make a complete “skin-out” Burgundian noble’s outfit in a year, the first thing to tackle was the underwear. So, what were men wearing beneath their hosen in the late fifteenth century?
As changes in fashion caused separate hose to rise up the leg, over the buttocks, and eventually become joined hose, men’s underwear (braies) became correspondingly shorter and tighter, to fit more smoothly and comfortably underneath the hose. What were once voluminous, calf-length garments in the high middle ages become a much closer-fitting garment in the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries. As hose also became pointed to the doublet rather than suspended from the breech-girdle tying the braies closed at the waist, the drawstring of underwear also become narrower, because it no longer had to support the weight of the hose (Thursfield, 2015). Broadly speaking, the shape become something much more akin to the briefs we see today.
Linen is the most likely contender for fabric used to make underwear, for a multitude of reasons. Outer garments were typically made of wool or silk, which had to be spot-cleaned (as demonstrated by several solutions in the household book Le Ménagier de Paris (Greco and Rose, 2018)) because the fibres would not stand up to regular laundering. Linen, on the other hand, does not tend to shrink when laundrered, and also gets softer the more you wash it. This, combined with the fact that linen is a sweat-wicking, breathable fabric, means that linen underclothes can absorb sweat and bodily fluids from everyday wear, protecting the outer layers that cannot be washed as often. Linen can also protect the skin from itching through being in contact with wool, should the wool be of a quality or nap that causes itchiness.
Triangulating the Evidence △
Documentary evidence
While we know from written sources such as the Tacuinum Sanitatis and Flemish-French conversation books that braies were worn by men in the fifteenth century (Sturtewagen, 2016), there is not yet any documentary evidence to my knowledge that gives details as to their style or the way they were made.
In fact, Sturtewagen notes a ‘conspicuous absence’ of underwear from fifteenth century probate inventories from Bruges. Contents of baskets and chests of linens were rarely, if ever, specified. This absence from probate inventories is a common phenomenon in medieval Europe, and has led some historians (e.g. Sarti, 2004) to conclude that underwear was not commonly worn in the middle ages, except by elites. Sturtewagen, however, links this, in addition to the ‘private and intimate’ nature of body linens, to deaths from the bubonic plague in Bruges, arguing that body linens would be seen as potentially ‘contaminated’ and thus burned to prevent the disease from spreading. The probate records in particular she is referring to here are those so-called bastaard goederen or the inventories of Bruges burghers of illegitimate birth, which date from the 1438-1444. This lines up with Roosen and Curtis’ analysis of there being a likely plague outbreak, ‘potentially coupled with other afflictions’ in the Southern Netherlands in 1438 and 1439 (Roosen and Curtis, 2019).
Finally, these were items typically produced inside the home, and so are not mentioned in the tailors’ records or other similar sources (Sturtewagen, 2016).
Archaeological evidence
As ever with medieval European garments, archaeological evidence of underwear is extremely limited, because linen doesn’t survive well in the European climate (Crowfoot et al, 2018).
That being said, there are some incredible finds from Lengberg castle, where various material - including textiles - were found filling a vault spandrel. The finds are estimated to be from the fifteenth century, predating the year 1485 when the chapel was consecrated. Among the finds of textile remains (which totalled over 2000) was a completely preserved pair of linen braies, along with fragments from a second pair. The braies have been carbon-dated to between 1440 and 1485.
The braies are made from an hourglass-shaped piece of undyed plain-weave linen (12-14 threads per cm) and have been repaired with three successive linen patches over the crotch/ pubic region. They have been cut on the cross-grain, with the back edge of the hourglass shape (the edge that would lie horizontal across the hips/ buttocks when worn) cut on the selvedge, which has largely torn away from the rest of the fabric.
The hem, which has been double-folded and then overcast, is very narrow at a total width of 5mm. The front-right tie (the only one intact with without any knots) is 260mm long, 15mm wide at the sewn ends and 6mm wide at the outer end. The estimated total hip circumference is 84cm, and artwork suggests they were worn low on the hips. The thread used for sewing the hems etc. was two-ply Z-spun linen thread approximately 0.7mm in diameter. (Nutz and Stadler, 2015).
Pictoral evidence
This is by far the richest vein for late medieval underwear, particularly scenes depicting the crucifixion and martyrdoms. Although Jesus is normally depicted wearing a loincloth, the two thieves crucified alongside him are often shown wearing underwear. Additional sources come more occasionally from bedroom scenes or bathing scenes (whether outside or in the bathhouse).
Nutz and Stadler (2015) propose a 5-part typology of medieval underwear based on artwork:
Type A: long, baggy braies that completely cover the leg, approx. 12th century;
Type B: medium-length loose braies that reach to the knees, approx. 13th-15th centuries;
Type C: braies reaching approximately to the mid-thigh, with short tubes of fabric covering and containing the legs but not tightly fitted around the thigh (analogous to modern boxers), approx. 14th-15th centuries;
Type D: short braies that are similar to type C, but which do not or barely cover the leg (analogous to modern boxer-briefs or briefs), approx. 14th-15th centuries;
Type E: “thong-like” braies such as the Lengberg find, where the fabric only really covers the pubic region and the buttocks, and the sides are formed of narrow straps or bands, approx. 15th-16th centuries.
Only types D and E are commonly seen in artwork of the mid-late fifteenth century. Additionally, I would further break D down into two sub-types:
D1: a style with a narrower piece of fabric across the hips and a higher rise; and
D2: a more rectangular style where the length remains more or less consistent all the way round. It should also be noted that this D2 type can occasionally be seen with a small slit that extends about halfway up the hip, presumably to allow for freer movement and greater comfort when worn.
Type E underwear, at least according to the artwork, seems broadly confined to the Holy Roman Empire in the fifteenth century, which is consistent with the Lengberg find being in East Tyrol (modern-day Austria). Types D1 and D2, however, are found in artwork across late medieval Europe. In one painting, Memling’s Scenes from the Passion of Christ (below), the two thieves are shown side-by-side wearing both styles - so perhaps the specifics came down to personal preference, as Constanza de Mendoza suggests (Buchler, 2010). Type Ds (1 and 2) typically tie at centre-front with a narrow drawstring enclosed in a waistband. The fit at centre-front is pouched, but smooth and tight everywhere else.
Decisions, decisions…
Given that the Type E style of underwear don’t appear to be appropriate for my geographical focus, I decided to style my pattern as a Type D2 medieval underwear, but otherwise stick as closely as I reasonably could to the construction of the Lengberg finds.
The make
The materials
The linen I had in my stash is approximately 21-24 threads/cm, which is basically twice as fine as the linen used to make the Lengberg underwear. However, the finest patch on the Lengberg underwear was 18 threads/cm, and given the presumed social status of the owner (estimated to be low to middling class, due to the three successive repairs) (Nutz and Stadler, 2015), I decided that a slightly finer linen would be okay for a noble impression.
Along with the slightly finer fabric, I also used slightly finer linen thread for sewing the braies: two-ply thread with a diameter of 0.5mm, so pretty close to the Lengberg thread’s 0.7mm. Bockens is my favourite source of two-ply linen thread, although I don’t know if it’s Z-twist or S-twist. If someone knows how I can figure that out, let me know! I’m always up for more in-depth nerdery.
The patterning
My brain works best when flat drafting patterns, making a mock-up and then adjusting on the body, so that is the method I’ve outlined below. In period, clothing was probably draped directly on the body. I’m terrible at draping, but if that’s how your brain works, go you! What follows is only a rough guide.
I’ll also say in advance it’s easiest to do the measurements on your body, while in your underwear. Because of the elasticated nature of underwear waistbands and stretch fabric nowadays, make sure you do this with them on your body rather than off, to get accurate measurements.
Measure your hip circumference at its widest point, and add an inch or two of ease.
Then, sling a tape measure between your legs and measure loosely from the top of the centre front of the waistband of your underwear to the top of the centre back of the waistband. Again, add two or three inches of ease to the final measurement (less if your measurement was very approximate).
Measure the circumference of your thigh at its highest point, and add half an inch to an inch of ease.
Finally, measure at your hip, following its curve or lack thereof, the distance from the top of your waistband to where you would like the lower edge of the side of your underwear to fall. This is the length of your side seam.
You can put your clothes back on now. Or not. You do you.
On your test fabric, draw a rectangle, the width equalling half your hip circumference (including the ease you added) and the height equalling half the length measurement, waistband to waistband (again, including ease). You will use this to draft the front and back of the underwear at the same time, on top of each other. This box is the long dotted lines on the diagram.
N.B.: this draft does not include seam allowances! They will need to be added in seperately.
Draw a faint vertical line through the centre of the box, extending it through the top of the box by a couple of inches (the short dotted line on the diagram).
At the top of the box, make two marks on the centre line: one 2 inches below, and one 1/2 inches above the box. The lower point is the centre front of your braies, and the upper is the centre back. These marks are in red on the diagram.
Draw two smooth curves: one joining the top left corner of the box with the top right corner of the box, passing through the upper mark; and one joining the top left corner of the box with the top right corner of the box, passing through the lower mark.
On either side of the box, measure down from the top corner the length you decided your side seam would be, and make a mark. These marks are in red on the diagram.
At the bottom of the box, mark a point roughly 1 inch either side of the centre line. This is the width of the fabric that goes between your legs, so adjust for your personal comfort. These marks are also in red.
Take your thigh circumference measurement and divide it in half. Using a bendy ruler, an armhole curve ruler, or a tape measure stood on its side (NB: a french curve ruler does not have a steep enough curve for this), trace a curved line between the marks you just made in steps 4 and 5, so that the total length of the line measures half your thigh circumference. The curve is steeper in the first half, closer to the centre, and then levels off closer to the side. These are your leg holes.
Trace off your pattern draft so that you have two patterns: one for the front, and one for the back. Remember to include seam allowance when you’re cutting the fabric! Your mock-up can be cut from two pieces of fabric, but for comfort I’d recommend making the final product out of one piece, so you don’t have a seam between your legs.
The construction
After making and trying on my mock-up, I was also able to take a small amount of material out of the sides to allow the braies to follow the shape of my hips more naturally, resulting in the slight curved edges you can see in the pattern photo above.
Due to the fact that I curved the top and bottom edges of my pattern, it wouldn’t make sense to cut the piece out on the cross-grain to include the selvedge at the back of the braies (as per the Lengberg find), so I cut it on the straight grain instead. I had a spare scrap almost exactly the right size from a previous project, resulting in the small triangular bit of piecing you can see in the bottom left of the braies below.
To make them up, I first double-folded the fabric at each of the hip edges, and used a whip stitch to secure it, as if hemming them. Then, I held the sides together and used an overcast stitch to attach them. I proceeded to hem the lower edge of the braies (i.e. the leg holes), again by double-folding the edge and securing it with a whip stitch. My hems ended up being a consisent 4mm in width, which is a fraction smaller than the Lengberg find!
Then, I cut a strip of linen about an inch wide and the length of my hip circumference (plus ease and seam allowance) to act as the waistband and drawstring casing, and another narrower strip, about 5/8ths of an inch wide and a good 15 inches longer than the waistband, for the drawstring itself. For economy of fabric, these were formed from a couple of shorter strips of linen I had in my stash. Holding the right sides of the braies and waistband casing fabric together, I used a back stitch to join them about 2/8ths of an inch from the top edge. This was probably overkill, and a running backstitch would have sufficed, but I wanted to make sure the waistband seam was strong. Once one side of the waistband casing was attached, I folded down the other raw edge of the waistband 2/8ths of an inch from the edge. Thay way, when the waistband was folded over the raw top edge of the braies, this folded raw edge would be enclosed, finishing the seam. Before doing this and securing it with a whipstich to complete the waistband casing, I made two eyelets on either side of the centre front of the waistband (only on one side of the casing, not piercing all the way through), for the drawstring to pull through and be tied.
To make up the drawstring, I folded the long edges of the other strip of fabric towards the centre, and then folded the entire thing in half to enclose those edges (like how bias tape is made). I then used overcast stitching to stitch the edges together, which consistent with how the ties on the Lengberg underwear were done. My drawstring ended up being 7mm wide, just a tad wider than the 6mm ties of the Lengberg find. To insert the drawstring into the casing, I attached one end to a small safety pin, inserted into the eyelet to the right of centre front, massaged the safety pin (and the drawstring with it) around the inside of the waistband, and pulled it out of the eyelet to the left of centre front. This overlapped the ties, allowing for a more secure fastening. It also better creates the pouching at the front we see in the artwork (Buchler, 2010).
The results
Final thoughts
I’m a bit of a coward when it comes to actually wearing medieval underwear when re-enacting, honestly: I have made 5 pairs now, but rarely wear any except my early fourteenth century ones, and that’s only because they are required to hold up my separate hose! As a modern person used to an elasticated waistband and stretchy fabric, it feels quite insecure to just have a drawstring holding them up. These are comfortable, and I think a reasonable (if not perfect) recreation based on the evidence we have right now, but I’d definitely like to keep making more - perhaps if I keep making them, it will make me more likely to wear them at events?
If I made these again, I think probably be a bit braver and make them about an inch or so narrower in the hips and shorter in the legs, just to make them fit more closely and bring them slightly closer to the artwork - it would also give me an excuse to try out that short split in the side-seam we see in some of the art.
I’d also definitely like to try making a faithful (re-sized to my measurements, obviously) reconstruction of the Lengberg underwear someday, for the laughs if nothing else. Apparently Beatrix Nutz’s reconstruction took her about 6 1/2 hours to cut and sew (Nutz and Stadler, 2015), so it’s hardly an involved project!
Bibliography
Buchler, Sunny (Constanza de Mendoza) (2010). “Burgundian Nobleman’s Underclothes c1445-1475. Viewed 20 Sep 2023, <https://citeseerx.ist.psu.edu/viewdoc/download?doi=10.1.1.691.5507&rep=rep1&type=pdf>
Crowfoot, E., Pritchard, F., Staniland, K., Baker, E. and Unwin, C. (2018). Textiles and clothing, c. 1150-1450. Woodbridge: The Boydell Press.
Greco, G. and Rose, C. (2018). The Good Wife’s Guide (Le Ménagier de Paris): A Medieval Household Book. Ithaca, NY: Cornell University Press.
Nutz, B. and Stadler, H. (2015). ‘Gebrauchsgegenstand und Symbol : die Unterhose (Bruoch) aus der Gewölbezwickelfüllung von Schloss Lengberg, Osttirol’ in J. Keupp and R. Schmitz-Esser (eds), Neue alte Sachlichkeit : Studienbuch Materialität des Mittelalters. Ostfildern: Jan Thorbecke Verlag.
Roosen, J. and Curtis, D.R. (2018). The ‘light touch’ of the Black Death in the Southern Netherlands: an urban trick?. The Economic History Review, 72(1), pp.32–56. doi:https://doi.org/10.1111/ehr.12667.
Sturtewagen, I. (2016). All together respectably dressed: Fashion and clothing in Bruges during the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries. PhD Thesis, University of Antwerp, Antwerp.
Thursfield, S. (2015). Medieval Tailor’s Assistant. Ramsbury: Crowood Press.
University of Innsbruck (2021). Medieval lingerie from Lengberg Castle, East-Tyrol, University of Innsbruck, viewed 20 Sep 2023, <https://www.uibk.ac.at/archaeologien/forschung/projekte/nutz/textilien-lengberg/mittelalterliche-unterwaesche/index.html.en>