Creating an Authentic Cotte, Part 3: Pattern

It is difficult for us to know with any certainty how many pieces were generally used to create a fitted cotte, and in what configurations those pieces were arranged. There are, however, some extant garments that we can review to come to some tentative conclusions of plausible patterning arrangements. These include a collection of garments from the Herjolfsnes settlement in Greenland dated to the 14th Century, a gown made of cloth of gold in Uppsala, Sweden presumed to be from around 1400, a dress recovered from the Moy Bog in Ireland, conjecturally dated to the 14th or 15th centuries, and even, to some extent, the pourpoint of Charles VI, from France circa 1383.

Uppsala Gown pieces from Marc Carlson | Source

Additionally, certain artworks from the period may provide some clues to the construction of the fitted cotte via the appearance of lines or details that could be interpreted as seam lines. These appear most often in the semi-realistic manuscript illuminations produced by Franco-Flemish painters in the first half of the 15th century and their slightly later oil painting successors up to the middle of the century.

Table 1. Garment features of Extant Examples

Unfortunately, nothing conclusive can be derived from a look at the features present on the five relevant extant garments alone. There are, however, some trends that can be further supported by a look at those images that show seamlines.

Table 2. Seam features present in collected imagery

Combining these two forms of evidence, two items stand out. First, the combination of a small armscye and a single line through the back of the sleeve show up with a bit more consistency than other sleeve types. Second, there is a noticeable lack of gores in the mainland garments and in the imagery. This is not to suggest that this greater amount of evidence is in any way a more accurate one. It does however back up the creation of a fitted cotte with these elements a bit more certainly than with different features.

Detail, "St. John the Baptist Altarpiece", Rogier van der Weyden, circa 1455. Note the long side seam on the nurse's blue cotte and the way she's rolled her outer sleeve up to reveal the buttoned sleeve of the green cotte below. 

One concern for the use of dress panels that flare rather than using gores is that fabric widths may not have routinely supported the ability to cut the panels out in single pieces. This is based on an assumption that looms of the later Middle Ages were narrow. While that is the case for certain types of looms, such as the horizontal and warp-weighted looms, larger looms, like the broadloom could produce woolens at 2 to 3 meters wide so that after their finishing process they were in the range of 58" to 60" wide (1). Even a warp-weighted loom could be operated with two weavers to produce these wider widths of cloth. For an average-sized woman, a cloth with sufficient width would have been available, particularly from drapers within urban markets. My wool was 63" wide at a length of 5 yards.

Two examples from "Le Decameron" (Arsenal MS 5070, reserve, Giovanni Boccaccio, 1432) showing the relative fullness and drape of fitted cottes typically depicted in manuscripts of the period.

Another consideration that I feel is often overlooked in the creation of cottes is the drape of the skirt. An overwhelming majority of the images show a garment with a full skirt that drapes evenly from the hips all the way around. This is an effect that is achievable by allowing the bias to drape naturally in the skirt, and can be seen to full effect on full circle skirts in the modern era. When gores are added to straight panels, the effect is not as uniform. Instead, the gore will tend to hang in folds while the panels will remain primarily flat. This is a function of the panel, with straight sides, not having any reason to fold. A dress skirt with four flared panels, each with a bias cut edge on each side can mimic the continuous drape of a full circle skirt, the only disruption being the change in grain direction at each seam line. 

Cotte with side lacing from BL MS Burney 257, "Thebais and Achilles", by Publius Papinius Statius, circa 1405.

When looking for evidence of lacing in the early 15th Century, one striking reality is that the presence of front or back lacing is mostly lacking when looking at women in typical daily situations (2). When lacing is depicted, it is shown as a detail on the side of the dress, such as in the above image (some of the best examples I've been able to locate). Extending from the armscye to the waist, a side opening provides the same roominess as a front opening for the purposes of getting the cotte on. The side position is still accessible by the wearer for tightening (though it does take some patient coordination).

All these items taken together lead me to arrange my cotte pattern similar to that of the Uppsala Gown, with four full-length panels (left front, right front, left back, right back), each cut with a flared skirt portion and without the use of additional gores. The sleeves are set-in style, utilizing a small armscye, no gusset, and including a line of buttons to the elbow, which are ideal for the ability to roll the sleeves up when needed, a practice seen used among middle class women in the available imagery. I also decided to follow the suggestion of the pictorial evidence that shows lacing by including a spiral laced opening on the side seam on my right.

In the next post, I'll share the process I used to cut out and fit the cotte based on this pattern choice.

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NOTES:

1. Munro, 2000. “Wool and Wool-Based Textiles in the West European Economy, c.800 - 1500: Innovations and Traditions in Textile Products, Technology, and Industrial Organisation”
2. One exception that many folks point to for evidence of front lacing in the early 15th century is the June page from Très Riches Heures du Duc de Berry. However, we can't overlook that the woman shown in a front laced cotte is working in a field in June heat, and is otherwise in a much more obvious state of undress than would be acceptable. While this does indicate that front-lacing may have still been in use, it is not enough evidence for front lacing in use by women of higher classes not working in a field in this period.

Creating an Authentic Cotte, Part 2: Cloth Type & Color

[This is Part 2 of my documentation of an authentically created Late Medieval cotte. You can read Part 1 here for context if you haven't already.]

For the purposes of medieval recreation in North America in an era when spring temperatures routinely hit the upper 80’s, it is necessary to accept that the more desirable varieties of wool cloth, which we now refer to as broadcloth and flannel, are a large investment that can only be used for 1/3rd of the year. It has become necessary to find fabric that is both suitable to the purpose of authentic recreation, but that is also a practical choice in terms of investment with year-round usefulness.

I located the cloth used for this project at a merchant at an SCA event (96 District Fabrics). It is a woolen tabby using pairs of 1-ply Z-twisted yarn (the pairs are untwisted) for both the warp and weft at 16 threads per inch (evenweave). It appears to be an undyed natural gray to white mixed wool which produces a heather effect that at a distance reads as a medium-tone cool gray. There is no or very little processing or fulling. The cloth is slightly hairy and threads are easily separated from the piece.

Cloth Type

Based on many pieces of evidence left behind across the written and material record, wool was the preferred fiber for cloth in the Middle Ages (1). Over the course of the medieval period, the production of wool staple into a useable cloth for garments developed into an industry that fueled much of the interconnected economic stability of Western Europe, primarily between England (who had the sheep) and Flanders (who had the looms). By the 1410s, the majority of cloth production had turned into something more like a modern manufacturing process than the do-it-yourself home crafter could produce (2). There were two general categories of wool cloth being made, in addition to variations between them. Worsted cloth used long fibers, producing a lighter, smoother cloth. Woolens were created with shorter fibers that produced a more substantial thread with more elasticity and a hairier quality. In addition to being worsted or woolen, the fabric could be woven as tabby (plain), or one of several varieties of twill. 

Of these two basic varieties of wool, worsted cloth was considered the lower-quality and less expensive option. Woolens, by contrast, were created using a several step process that increased the cloth’s thickness, quality, texture, and cost. There was, therefore, a group of wool fabrics that were produced to help bridge the gap between these two types. Bay cloth, for example, used the long worsted yarns in the warp, and the short, fluffier woolen threads in the weft. Other types of cloth were produced that skipped steps in the overall process in an attempt to create a usable cloth at a lower price point. Serge, which is hard to define precisely as there doesn’t seem to be consensus, is listed in the Great Wardrobe records alongside woolens (3). Based on how they were priced and sold, serge may have been a lighter-weight woolen cloth that was produced in a way that heavy finishing was either not used or not heavily executed (4). If this is the case, a wool cloth of the variety I have used for this project would have easily fit into this category, but I am willing to admit the conjectural leap there.

Assuming, however, that fabrics like this did exist in the period for garments, regardless of what they may have been called, it would most certainly fall into one of these middle categories of quality and price. This suggests a locally available cloth purchased not as a luxury or for the purpose of fashion, but rather for basic affordability and practicality.

Gray can be seen in use for both the woman's cotte and the man's chausses in the lower right. | Source

Cloth Color

Clothing in 1410’s came in a range of colors. Dyestuff was found in a variety of natural materials, including plants and lichens, but also in natural chemicals and other materials. For example, a brown dye could be created by scraping the rust off an iron pot and tossing the shavings into a dye bath with some mordants (5).

Examining the colors that appear on clothing in a collection of early 15th Century manuscripts, it becomes quickly apparent that the primary colors of blue, red and green were heavily favored in the art, in addition to shades of pink. While these colors dominate the manuscripts, other colors do appear, including black, lavender, maroon, teal, orange, brown, and gray (6). This is by no means a definitive range of colors achievable in this time, as the dyestuffs available during the medieval period produced a range of colors well beyond these basic shades (7).

While gray cloth like that used in this project could have been created using dye baths with very little coloring remaining, it would be more likely achieved with undyed, natural gray wool. In either of these manners, yarn colored before weaving (either naturally or via dying) would produce a heathered or motley/medley cloth (8). While the manuscript imagery doesn’t support these kinds of variegated cloths in use, they do appear in the written (9) and extant record (10). Though not as desirable as piece-dyed cloth with even, solid coloring, these yarn dyed or naturally-colored fabrics would have been available as a less costly alternative for those in the lower classes of early 15th-century society (11).

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NOTES:

1. Crowfoot, E., et al, “Textiles and Clothing c. 1150-c.1450,” Museum of London: Medieval Finds from Excavations in London: 4 (London, HMSO), 1992, p15.

2. Munro, J.,“Wool and Wool-Based Textiles in the West European Economy, c.800 - 1500: Innovations and Traditions in Textile Products, Technology, and Industrial Organisation”, 2000.

3. Oldland, E., 2019. The English Woollen Industry, c.1200-c.1560.

4. Ibid

5. From the Innsbruck Manuscript, circa 1330. (Ms. 355, Parchment University Library, Innsbruck)

6. Hurst, Janis, The Early 15th Century French Woman's Style Book, ebook, 2019.

7. http://historicenterprises.com/colors-ezp-6.html, Accessed 5/28/19.

8. Crowfoot, et al, 2001, p15.

9. http://www.larsdatter.com/chaucer.htm Accessed 5/28/19.

10. Crowfoot, et al, 2001. See color plate 4 which shows a textile piece with color variations created with a mixture of natural gray and brown wool.

11. Hodges, L.. "Chaucer and Costume: The Secular Pilgrims in the General Prologue", (Cambridge, Boydell & Brewer Ltd) 2000. “....the best quality of motley might be fashionable..but it would not speak loudly of great wealth...it speaks discretely of economic moderation."

Creating an Authentic Cotte, Part 1

While I was attending the Middle Kingdom 50-Year Celebration this past May, I purchased a soft, light wool cloth to make a new cotte. As I admired the fabric at home, still sitting bundled on my desk, I began to consider that I had an opportunity to do something I'd never done completely before- create a fully-handsewn AND fully-documentable dress. Sure, I've dabbled in these two categories many times before, and most of my more recent cottes can be suitably documented and have an acceptable level of handwork for most Living History group standards, but I'd never gone through the effort of packing the full amount of considered authenticity into one piece.

So that's what I did.

Today, I want to share with you some photos of the final result and a bit about the garment style. Over the course of my next posts, I'll go into detail regarding the research and experiments I conducted, the techniques and tools I used, and of course the lessons I learned.

This garment, like most of my dresses you'll find on this blog, is based on a pervasive style of dress found in later 14th and early 15th century depictions of women, known as a cotte (1). It can be classified as a dress with a full skirt with no waist seam, a skirt length to or beyond the ankles, long sleeves fit to the arm along their full length, and a large round neckline. It is also, most distinctively, tailored to fit snug to the body through the trunk, and is fitted in a manner that adjusts the form, particularly the bust, to an ideal silhouette. These particular features distinguish the cotte from other female dress styles used within the European Medieval era, and can be considered, in this combination, generally distinct to the period between circa 1350 to circa 1460 (2).

The style of cotte changed throughout the period of its use, meaning that a cotte from 1360 will look different in shape from a cotte used in 1440, though they will both be functionally the same and still both fit the description above. This evolution is partly tied to the gradually increased popularity of the style, but may have also been due to a changing understanding of how to fit a garment more expertly. These changes can primarily be seen in the way the torso is shaped and the bust supported, but there are also differences that occur to the shape of the neckline and additional decorative elements.

The cotte was initially used by noblewomen, possibly influenced by the corresponding male cotte that originated out of Italy sometime in the 1340’s which has a similar torso and sleeve fit (3). Before this point, women’s clothing was created with a reliance on straight or triangular components which made good use of the cloth with very little waste. The introduction of these fitted dresses, which rely on curved seams, created the ability to waste cloth in the production of the garment, which could have been used as a status symbol. By its very nature, therefore, a fitted cotte was an exclusively upper-class garment for at least the first decade after it appeared in Northwestern Europe.

Perhaps motivated by the drive of conspicuous consumption, decoration of the cotte came into favor in the 1370’s. These types of decorations include the use of fur trims, streaming sleeve additions called tippets, and added embellishments like appliqué, pearls, embroidery or metal spangles known as bezants. By the 1390’s, however, whether through a shift in wealth distribution, economic restructuring or simply just that more people knew how to create the style, the cotte had widespread use outside the boundaries the upper class.

With the style's greater popularity, the focus moved away from expensive and frivolous embellishments and moved toward a simplified style that highlighted the fit and cloth itself. This lead to the cotte being created in vivid and diverse colors of high-quality wool without the addition of decoration by the dawn of the 15th Century. This newfound popularity also lead to a move away from the cotte being used as a fashionable garment among noblewomen, who began to layer more expensive gowns overtop of it, such as the houppelande or versions of the cotte that used different sleeve types and included fur linings (4). The plain fitted cotte, therefore, became the visible fashion staple of the middle and lower classes.

The cotte of a non-noble housewife in the 1410’s was a straightforward wool garment that was suitable for daily wear in a variety of situations. It was fitted in the torso, lifting the bust to reveal a narrow waist. It may or may not have included a long opening that was laced together, with a side placement for this being the most evidenced. The skirt was full to heighten the appearance of a round, healthy abdomen and hips. The neckline was open, revealing her collarbones and decolletage, but did not extend so far that her bust was too openly revealed, and it was not meant to slip off her shoulders. The sleeves were tightly fitted through the bicep and forearm. The forearm could have been sewn closed or it may have been closed with buttons- an invention still in use from the second quarter of the 14th century. The cotte could have been layered with other cottes (either as the foundational layer or the outer layer) but would have also been suitable as a single layer over a linen chemise when in her comfort.

In the next post, I will go into detail regarding my research and conclusions surrounding the cloth type and color of the wool I used.

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Sources & Notes:
1. In more modern times, the term “Gothic Fitted Dress” has been coined by researcher Robin Netherton to bring the various terms of this general style under one category. Other terms it may be known by include kirtle and cotehardie, or cotte simple.
2. For a great look at how this style evolved into, through, and out of this period, see Scott, Margaret, A Visual History of Costume: The Fourteenth & Fifteenth Centuries, (London, B.T. Batsford, Ltd., 1986).

3. Scott, Margaret, Medieval Dress & Fashion, (London, The British Library, 2007).

4. Hurst, Janis, The Early 15th Century French Woman's Style Book, ebook, 2019.

Additional Tips for Set-In Sleeves

To say that I've spent a lot of time on this blog talking about set-in sleeves in the context of late medieval costuming would be an understatement. As I worked on the sleeves for a new chemise, however, it occurred to me that there are a few items about sleeves after patterning that might be helpful tips for those who are still new to or having trouble with their sleeves. The easiest way for me to do this was via photo examples.

Celebrating My Current Favorites

It’s easy to spend a lot of time thinking about the things we would like to have, or the things we want to make. It’s kind of a status symbol these days in historical recreation when we can brag about a huge project list, and we like to compare wishlists with others. I’ve certainly done my fair share of that. It seems like we’re constantly asking the question: What’s the next thing that I’m going to spend my time, energy and money on?

Early 15th Century Women's Style Book

“The Book of the Queen”, 1410-1414AD, BL MS Harley 4431, fol. 123v

Six or so years ago, I started to get frustrated by my limited knowledge of women's fashion in the era I had chosen to recreate- Flanders in the early 15th century. Like many people new to the realm of historical clothing research, up to that point, I had been mostly relying on singular images presented out of context, or the occasional famous manuscript to try to give me a picture of what I should be wearing. The problem with this method, though, is that it doesn't provide overall guidelines to what clothing options were available to women beyond what existed in those single, disconnected examples. Much like with extant materials- you can't form a better picture of the forest if you've only got a small number of individual trees to look at.

Project Complete: Apple Green Wool Cotte

When I left off, this dress was sewn together with the body seams finished. The sleeves were sewn on, and I had buttons ready. I had an issue with the fit of the forearms, so I removed the forearms to repattern those. The neckline and hemming were also still awaiting finishing. I also knew that I disliked how the back gore draped, so I needed to troubleshoot that.