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| ©Travis Abe-Thomas, June 2024 |
Finally! I actually finished another project, and in time to debut the suit at the second ever West Kingdom Crown hosted by Oertha. This is the white hemp canvas doublet I have been plugging away at for the last two years, to be paired with the black wool round hose as a "working" suit which would age and develop what we're going to call "character"...also known as stains and hopefully wear patterns.
When designing the project, I knew I wanted a fairly simple outfit from the end of Elizabeth's reign--round hose, and a fairly plain doublet. As working class people aren't the most popular subject for art (unless accompanied by quaint villages and beautiful scenery as in my Low Countries Research), I eventually found what I was looking for in Samuel Pepys's Cries of London.
I am not going to go too in much depth regarding my initial sources and inspiration, as I would just be paraphrasing the documentation from the round hose--please go read the first bit of that if you haven't yet...I'll wait.
Done? Okay. Onwards
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| "Buy my Marking Stones." Cries of London. Spitalfields Life |
What is the Garment?
We have a later--1580-1600--fairly standard example of a doublet, the primary upper body garment for European menswear of the 15th century through the late 17th century. Stylistically, the doublet is the original coat or jacket. It was commonly relatively well structured, and usually only reaching to the waist. Often, the hosen of the period would be attached to the doublet by tied or laced points or hooks to prevent that garment from falling (or from resulting in the always classy "plumber's crack"). The skirts below the waist varied drastically depending on location and the decade, although they were usually separate pieces of fabric. You can see a fairly clear progression from the cottehardie of the 14th century as they got tighter, shorter, and more structured until true tailoring was developed. At some points in the 16th century, the shaping got pretty extreme with huge guts (peascods) tailored in.
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| An upper class example, with peascod Sir Jerome Bowes by an Unknown Artist, c.1584. (The Suffolk Collection) |
They would have been worn by all those who were not too poor to afford such a garment, and my target for this one was something more working class but still nice enough to be properly fitted, as I wanted to play with historical interlinings, including a small peascod belly. Many surviving examples are heavily decorated with trim, pinking, both, and usually expensive materials; survival bias is obviously a factor here.
As said, the details of the doublet; sleeve size, locations of the sidebody seams (they move towards the back over time), skirt form, and the shaping of the front changes over time. While my target was the 1590s or sew, with the addition of the slight peascod I feel I missed slightly and am likely closer to the 1570s...again (I apparently have a predilection for 1570s). This is boosted by my find that the inspirational Cries of London were not actually created around 1600, but rather the artwork was collated then, and the actual woodcuts may have been carved two to three decades before.
My Goals:
I wanted a perfectly period (or as good as I could get) doublet, made of high end but not fancy materials, handsewn, and of a typical form rather than something exaggerated or weird. Something which I could, if necessary set up camp in, or be comfortable lounging around the camp, and not worry too much about getting dirty, torn, or showing wear. This is clearly why it's white. According to The Typical Tudor [pp. 95] canvas and white were each the second most commonly found for material and colour in wills and other documents of the time, and while linen or hemp canvas could be found dyed, white was the most common colour. I wanted to show this.
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| Important PSA, don't use tonic water in your Italian soda. I was removing some cheese from my drink. Later I was informed that if you mix the creamer and syrup first, it helps. |
I have several doublets of varying fanciness and authenticity, but as I wanted to go English this time I needed to do it again--my German ones are slightly earlier in period, and do not have nearly as much structure in the waist. A slight peascod and belly padding were desired as I wanted to play with the making of them, although I didn't want anything exaggerated or stiff. This part was super exciting...I always love pad-stitching, and the process of shaping a garment with just your stitching is magical to me.
As with the hosen, I didn't have any Anti-goals...I was aiming to make it as period as my ability allowed.
Sources:
While this isn't based on any particular find, my notes say I patterned it based on the padded doublet on page 114 of Patterns of Fashion 3, as that gave the proportions I was looking for. They also say I was inspired by an image of Sir Duncan Campbell of Glenorchy, but looking at the portrait now, I rather doubt it. I drew heavily on the research of Dan Rosen of Old England Grown New, as canvas doublets is one of his specialties, and of course, the team of The Tudor Tailor.
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| Hose und Wams, 1600-10. |
STEPHEN SMITH TO SIR HUGH SMYTH AT LONG ASHTON LINCOLN’S INN 14 June 1620
‘Sir, I have sent you your Cassacke' and Canves doublet. Your taylor and I considered that canves was only fit for Summer and therefore have buttoned it according to the fashion now in request, it is not only suitable to your scarlet hose but will agree as well with any other cloath hose you have. Canves doublets are now much in request and they are all made plaine or trimmed with white lace as this is, for it is accounted somwhat pibald to trim a white doublet with trimming of different colour. If I co[u]ld have contrived it soe as to have made the canves doublet fit to have beene worne under a Cassacke I had done it: but it is not a winter wear and therefore I shall put you to the charges of a new satten doublet against winter. I have sent you a paire of Spanish leather bootes in exchaung of your russet bootes, and have exchaunged alsoe your 2 paire of shoes for one. You shall receave likewise 2 paire of welted bootehose which I think without comparison are the finest and longest for tops in London. I caused them to be made with long tops bycause I knowe that you have a good leg, and know alsoe that good legs weare very short hose"
There's some good information in these letters from Stephen, and I find the hints that "summer button styles" were a thing is fascinating. And the note that Sir Hugh has nice legs so must wear short hosen is just plain amusing enough to include.
The burial clothes of one Antonello Petrucci the Younger (c. 1585), held by the San Domenico Maggiore Church in Naples is also a canvas doublet and has self welts installed into several of the seams.
Who:
While not a fully lower class garment as it does have a fair amount of tailoring and the fit is probably too good to be "slops" or an off the rack garment, it is suitable for a man of modest means and inclination; well made and fitted, but not fancy. Once it becomes worn (stains, repairs, etc) I was considering simulating passing the garment down to the class below.
As suggested, it would not have been made at home but by a professional tailor, perhaps an older apprentice who isn't quite trusted with the expensive silks yet. I would guess that given how common the materials were, they may have been on hand, rather than requiring a special trip to a draper by the tailor or the person purchasing the garments.
Costwise, poking at the Elizabethan Costume article on "A Tailor's Wage" there are a couple notes for doublets at around the target period; noting a "striped canvas doublet" from 1588 as costing 36p, and a "doublet" in 1590 as 48p. I would expect this one would be near the bottom end of that in the high 30s range. It is unlikely that it would have been purchased by someone different than the intended wearer (by a superior servant as livery?), but it is possible.
Materials;
Now into the easier parts! The exterior of the canvas doublet would have been--go figure--canvas, which at the time would be made of flax or hemp fibers. This was almost always white, although there are mentions as above of "striped" canvases. Almost all the layers in the garment--underlinings, and linings, would also have been various weights of linen, with the padding in some combination of wool cloth or cotton wool [PoF3 pp. 114]. All sewing would also be done with linen thread.
Likewise, all of my materials are similar to the above; I used a hemp canvas from Wm. Booth, Draper for my fashion fabric, a random lightweight white linen for my lining (probably Fabric-store brand), and another heavier white linen (I think it may be from Joanns) for the underlining. Also included were scraps of wool broadcloth and flannel for paddings, and raw cotton wool (purchased from Amazon years ago) to build out the slight peascod. Canvasing was done with a modern fustian fabric; while fustian is a period fabric,what you find modernly isn't the same even though it's also a linen/cotton. On the modern, the warp is cotton instead of the linen as that is what modern commercial looms are designed for, and it's not processed to give a brushed finish. Instead, what I have found is almost like a light hair canvas and I use it for that purpose...internal canvassing where I want a little bit of spring in one direction.
All thread used for sewing was various weights of linen, although I prefer to use a mercerized cotton hand quilting thread for basting as it glides better.
The buttons used are probably not the best examples as they are solid ball
examples with a shank (from Bad Baroness Buttons)--this choice was made
due to cost and availability, and thread or glass buttons would be more
accurate. I had a choice between silver or "gold" and in the end decided to match the silver ones on the hosen (the decision for which was crowdsourced). These are, however, the correct size and fairly innocuous. At some point, I may order or otherwise commission a set of glass buttons for this garment and swap the metal ones out.
Pattern:
As I said before, I based the overall shapes, and especially the sleeve shape on the example on page 114 of PoF, although I did depart from it in the shape of the skirts (minor patterning detail), and shaping the front to give a slight peascod belly. On the whole the garment consists of a back cut in whole, two fronts, a separate collar (which is different from my previous doublets with their grown on collars), and well curved two piece sleeves. I chose a simple curved single piece peplum as that is what is shown in my primary exemplars from the Cries of London. It is also simpler to make.
The sidebody seam being more towards the back, and the shape of the sleeves are particular features of the period, and you can clearly trace the development of them. Might be an interesting research tangent for me someday--the shifting of seam locations in men's body wear.
The method for patterning was largely winging it with my usual method of plugging in proportions, and I didn't attempt my speculative numberless system at this time. I've gotten to the point where at least for drafting my own clothing, it's not a big deal and I can make proportion adjustments on the fly without using an actual pattern beyond an example such as Pof for what the pieces should roughly look like.
Measurements are relatively simple; shoulder width, body circumferences, and the verticals, and that's about it for the most part. In this case, I knew I wanted a slight drop shoulder to the doublet, as that shows up at the end of the century--i.e. the shoulder seam isn't right at the top of the shoulder joint, but slightly lower, which gives the illusion of slightly broader shoulders (something I don't have naturally). As is wise, I cut the pattern out of a muslin first to check the fit...I got it pretty much right on the first time with a couple of very minor style adjustments.
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| You can see it appears padded... ...this is entirely from the 16th cen. shirt volume. |
Methods of Construction:
As this is a project where I was aiming for high levels of historical accuracy, it is entirely handsewn with linen thread. The majority of the seams are sewn with a stab/running stitch depending on the thickness. Seam allowances are mostly overcast into place, although a couple of the more finicky ones are catch-stitched (cross/herringbone stitch).
There is quite a bit of padstitching as well, to shape and support the body of the doublet with the padding layers. None of it is visible. The lining is sewn into place using on overcast stitch, and the buttonholes are done with the usual method, and using 16/2 linen thread so it would match the body.
Construction!
On the whole, as it has been a few years since I last tailored, I made use of M. Gnagy's The Modern Maker to refresh my memory on the shapes of the interlinings, and the direction the pad stitching runs.
The various layers of the interlinings. You can see the heavy white linen which is the underlining and will be up against the fashion fabric; over that is a grey flannel weight wool to pad around the shoulders, a layer of black broadcloth which is to cover and smooth the belly padding, then layers of modern fustian to support and stiffen the front edge with the buttonholes and the belly.
The padstitching on the front shoulders is done to smooth out the hollows in the body there. In addition you can see the slight dart in the interlining at the front shoulder which gives a little more space for the armscye while keeping it close to the chest. This is a feature from The Modern Maker, and I believe it shows in one or two very late to 17th century doublets.
Shoulders and peascod are fully shaped. You can see the curve it added to the belly.
Likewise done in the back. You can see the stitching runs two different directions--roughly horizontal between the shoulders and following the neckline, but vertical around the armscye. This gives the support while allowing the fabric to fold in the direction needed. Also, most of the back only has the three layers of the lining, underlining, and fashion fabric.
Button support of doubled or tripled fustian is in place. One layer goes all the way to the edge, then there is a doubled strip basted in place. The peascod padding was trimmed back a bit from this point as you don't want to be working through it when sewing the buttonholes.
View of the closed doublet with shaping in place. It was at this point I decided I wanted self-fabric welts in some of the seams, including the shoulder seams.
The collar is quite simple, just a piece single piece of canvas with a slight curve to top and bottom. I usually cut it slightly long and trim to size once it's on the body.
The interlinings of a second layer of hemp canvas and a green wool
broadcloth were padstitched in vertical rows to stiffen the piece.
Additional layers...the outer fashion fabric, and a narrow self strip of fabric installed for interest. This was stab stitched in place through all layers.
And the collar installed in place. I pressed the seam open to help reduce bulk to either side, and stitched it down
The peplums, or skirts, are just a single layer of the canvas, lined in a light blue linen. The choice of blue linen for the facings was inspired by the work of Dan Rosen from Old England Grown New (check out his work, if you aren't familiar!), which was in turn inspired by the work of Samantha McCarty (The Couture Courtesan) and a Virginia Company account from 1620.
The Account of A. B. for Furnishing the Ship "Supply" September, 1620
Bought at London. ffor .15. grosse of buttons xjs xjd ffor .60. elns of linnen cloth lvs ffor .15. elns of canvas xvjs iijd ffor .10. yards of blue linnen for facinge the doublets ixs iiijd ffor tape and thread vs ffor .42. yards of brode cloth at vis the yard for .20. cassackℯ & breeches
| As you can see, this is additionally valuable as it gives some cost per yard on some of the items. This is not the full list from the invoice. |
Skirt is in place over belly padding, and the front welt installed. This area of the doublet is always super awkward for me to construct and line cleanly, and I really need to figure out a better method and order of operations. Only the buttonhole side has the welt...the button side of the front is just turned.
Lacing strip sewn in. This is simply a 4 folded strip of the hemp canvas. The stuff is great for this purpose, as it's light and strong. That said, dampen it when awling the holes so it stretches properly instead of tearing the fibers.
Typically, you would sew the eyelets before attaching it to the doublet, but I wasn't mentally ready to do eyelets at the time. As with the hem of the peplums, I used a stitch variation which overcasts on the wrong side, but shows on the right side as a tiny running or prick stitch...unfortunately, I can't for the life of me remember what it's called. I believe it could be a variation of "Le point a rabattre sous la main".
Cuff facings and welts sewn into place with a stab stitch.
The first buttonholes have been worked! Four down...twenty-three to go!
And many more buttonholes. These were cut with a chisel after basting around the locations. In the end, I ended up taking shortcuts and avoiding some of the prepwork, such as overcasting the raw edges with a fine thread before doing the actual buttonhole stitching. On the whole, I didn't pay for this too much, but I also didn't cut all the buttonholes at once. Buttonhole placement was largely eyeballed...I knew the fashion was for many small buttons, so I simply went with a reasonable 1" spacing.
The perl on the bar tacks is worked towards the inside of the slit on both ends, as I have previously noted that was the most common way for this period.
You can see the body lining is also in place at this point, overcast stitch around each edge and to the seam allowance of the fashion layer. However, it would technically be most efficient to work the majority of the buttonholes near the beginning of the garment, as soon as the front is tailored and the facing in place. IF you're confidant of your fit.
The seam allowances of the shell were all also overcast or cross-stitched down after pressing to keep them from misbehaving.
You can see I also sewed the lacing points at some...heh...point. Just the 16/2 linen thread and overcast...period eyelets are nothing fancy, and often not even pretty. I do generally wait on this until I have them done on the hosen the doublet is intended to be worn with, so they match properly. And I found that I hadn't finished them on the hosen when I went to do the marking!
The sleeve lining is just a basic lightweight linen, and there is no underlining on the sleeves. The seams here were sewn with a running stitch and a backstitch to help lock it in with each needle run. I forgot how fast it is to sew like that.
Sleevils are finally completed! Linings sewn in place. They got basted at the sleevehead, and overcast to the facing at the bottom. There are also a few tack stitches around the elbow to the seam allowance of the canvas...this is to prevent the lining from twisting or otherwise misbehaving.
I apparently missed photographing a step or two, regarding the wings. In the past, I have avoided making or including them on my doublets, as I just dislike them (from my days of my initial attempt at the Svante Sture suit). They are simple curves which /almost/ match the sleevehead, but are slightly flattened...overall shaped almost like a bent cigar or torpedo? I constructed them fairly simply, with the blue linen facing and a strip of the canvas piping
The last step other than installing the buttons was to cover the seam allowance of the armcye for comfort and durability. Following The Modern Maker's directions, I pressed the whole seam allowance towards the body of the garment, whipstitched it into place, then covered it with a bias cut strip of the lining linen.
I would note the last several steps (everything after the sleeve basting) were all done in one day--my longest day of sewing since I made Etain's elevation Inar. Several movies were watched, including the whole of the old Arabian Nights mini-series...quite enjoyable, but I was definitely feeling woozy and cross-eyed after 5+ hours of handsewing straight.
When it came time to install the buttons, I realized I hadn't prepared the collar. Originally I planned to use woven/braided loops, as you see in some early 17th century doublets such as the one on page 116 of PoF3, but in the end I decided that that was a feature inappropriate for the target period, and quickly sewed another couple of buttonholes...unfortunately they look terrible as I fell out of practice quickly.
Conclusions and what I learned:
This was decidedly an interesting project, as it is the first time I went this far with the tailoring and padding, and I found it enjoyable as always. We already knew I'm weird for enjoying pad-stitching and sewing buttonholes. Stitching through the canvas wasn't nearly as bad as I expected--I was afraid the hemp canvas would be a bear to get a needle through, but it was really about normal (not as delicious as the wool broadcloth of the hosen, of course).
The research and tidbits were quite of interest, as I believe this is the first time I have dug into inventories, wills, and similar documents for my documentation, rather than basing it primarily on paintings or an extant piece.
I was really surprised how comfortable the suit is. Even though it is my most structured doublet, I didn't feel confined and could move comfortably, as you can see. Even in the warm sun of June Crown, I didn't particularly feel like I was overheating--surprising given the weight of the black wool hosen. I also intend at some point to make a cassock to go over this
garment for winter or rain...I have some blue mixt wool broadcloth which would be lovely
for it. I need to knit a new hat for the outfit as well, as this flat cap is slightly too small.
What would I do differently?
Well...ideally not take two years. Thankfully I don't really gain weight (or muscle...), so the sizing didn't change. There are a number of things I could do to streamline and make the process more efficient, by working with smaller pieces at a time (such as the mention of sewing the buttonholes while the front piece is by itself). Efficiency would also have gone up since I am out of practice currently. I think next time I make one--and it may very well happen--I want to dig more into decorations of canvas doublets of the target period, but that wasn't a goal here.
I should have probably taken more care with the buttonholes--doing a few practice ones first to remember how--and with keeping the piping actually even instead of eyeballing it.
Given unlimited resources, not a whole lot would change other than the procrastination thing; the majority of the materials used were top examples of the type for my goals. I could have used a different flannel in the shoulder and chest padding, as I suspect it has a percentage of synthetic fibers. I would also have liked to use glass buttons, which I may commission from a friend one of these months...they should have been ordered last Summer or so, rather than my waiting until I needed them.
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| Alas, Poor Yorik. |
How Historically Accurate is it?
I'm going to say pretty good. This is definitely one of my best pieces of work, in materials, workmanship, and fit. I am really happy with the fit, and the outfit was surprisingly comfortable even on the 80+* Oerthan day I wore it on. Other than the one flannel (which was chosen because it was the right weight and I had scraps), the materials are quite good, the patterning is on for the style, and construction methods are within period parameters to the best of my knowledge. The buttons are a bit off as I mentioned in the Materials segment. I'm going to give it a 9/10, as it is unlikely someone from the period would look at it askance.
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| Discussing the hip padding. Allegedly. |
Time and Costs:
Overall, the doublet took 48 hours of handsewing and some patterning. Not bad, really. As I said, it could have been faster if I had stayed in practice.
- The Hemp canvas sheeting was purchased from Wm, Booth Draper back in Jan 2019, and was $22.50 per yard (two yards). Also, this is why you save your receipts...they no longer carry that product, so I had to dig in my emails.
- The scraps of wool and fustian were scraps, but the underlining would have been $8 a yard (wait for those $8 a yard all linen sales!) from Joanns and about 3/4 yard used.
- I think the lining material was likely IL020 from Fabric-Store, and is currently roughly $15/yd at 2 yards.
- Thread was already on hand, as I keep linen thread in my stash. The amounts used were negligible.
- The buttons from Bad Baronness Buttons (or Avalon Naturals on Etsy), I snagged on sale and got them $30 for a hundred, including shipping. They run about $5 for 10 normally.
Total cost would be under $100 for materials, but with around an additional $750 for labour.
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| As I was getting ready to do the photo shoot, HRM West and MoD council piled into the tent and offered me elevation to the Order of Defence. I accepted, and was elevated that evening. |
Bibliography:
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| *bad French Accent* Draw me like one of your French Girls |
© John Frey, 2024. The Author of this work retains full copyright for this material. Permission is granted to make and distribute verbatim copies of this document for non-commercial private research or educational purposes provided the copyright notice and this permission notice are preserved on all copies
Photos from shoot © Travis Abe-Thomas. June 2024
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