Impressions: Two Wealthy Hiberno-Scandinavian Settlers, A Century Apart in Wood Quay

Location: Wood Quay, Dyflin (Dublin), Ireland.
Date: Mid 10th century and mid 11th century.
Culture: Early Hiberno-Scandinavian.
Estimated Social Status: Affluent urban freewoman.

The following photos show two sets of speculative clothing based on archaeological finds from Viking Dublin, set approximately a century apart. My goal is to combine these items according to their proper dating and present them in context, to provide a more whole view of how a citizen of Dylfin could have looked. I also aim to demonstrate how fashion changed over that century, even if the changes might seem modest or slow when compared to our modern world.

It is unfortunate that there are almost no contemporary detailed images from Viking Dublin that show the people who lived there. As a result, I must rely primarily on metal, glass and bone items that have survived intact, with clothing being based upon Hiberno-Scandinavian textile remains from the town, Scandinavian finds and contemporary illuminations from Britain and Scandinavia. As a result, my interpretation is just that- an interpretation. You might examine the evidence available to us and come to a different conclusion of how it should be combined and therefore how people may have looked. That’s quite alright too!

As usual, unless mentioned, all photos are my own. Any photos taken from archaeological publications are referenced and used here for educational purposes. Most of the kit photos are taken on Winetavern Street, Fishamble Street or in the grounds of St Audoen’s Church on High Street, all areas of Dublin inhabited in the Hiberno-Scandinavian period.


Mid 10th century outfit

Dublin cap (DHC33.) Early-mid 10th century, Fishamble Street.

If this cap looks familiar to you, it is because I have already written about this last month in its own article! In dimensions, material and fabric weave, this wool cap is based on cap DHC33, as described in Wincott Heckett (2003.) It is woven in a plain/tabby weave and dyed by me with madder, though the original cap was not subjected to dye analysis. The braid on the front edge is made from naturally pigmented brown yarn and whipstitched in place.

Gold and silk brocaded headband (E190:1194) 10th century, Fishamble Street.

This is a famous and much-replicated find among re-enactors. The so-called “Dublin dragons” motif is described by Pritchard (2021) as “gold-brocaded tablet-woven band, width 9 mm made with 31 tablets from Fishamble Street, Dublin.” Most bands seen in re-enactment with this pattern will be much wider than 9mm (no judgement- I love this pattern and have several very pretty wool items woven in this pattern!) but for this, I wanted something closer to the original. The extremely talented Alicja of Kram Ammy on Etsy wove this for me and despite using the finest silk she had, she still wasn’t able to weave it any narrower than 10mm without the pattern becoming warped. It dates to the latter half of the 10th century, though several other brocaded silk bands were found in Wood Quay in the 10th and late 11th century layers.

E190:1194 in Pritchard (2021.)

As all of the tablet woven remains at Dublin were fragmentary and not in a grave context, we are left to imagine of what they were originally part. Pritchard (2021) has suggested that they were part of narrow fillets (or at least in conjunction with some headcovering) following the contemporary evidence from Scandinavia- she says that in terms of technique, the Dublin brocaded bands are closest to finds from Denmark. No dye analysis was conducted on the silk part of E190:1194, but madder has been found on other silk and wool textiles in Dublin so I opted for a bright madder red. I’ve seen some truly stunning replicas done in ivory silk and gold (which could very well be what it looked like if the silk was undyed), like this example by Kristine Vike.

Lozenge brooch in lead alloy (E81:4681.) 10th century, Winetavern Street.

E81:4681. Source: Wallace (2016, p. 369.)

The brooch at my neckline is a pewter lozenge brooch, a style from England originally that made its way to Viking Dublin in the 10th century alongside the more common disc brooches. (Wallace, 2016.) Lead alloy jewellery items like these brooches have been found in large numbers at several English sites, most notably York and Cheapside in London, where they were most likely being produced. (You can see the whole Cheapside Hoard on the Museum of London collections website.) It is of course possible that local copies of these foreign pieces were being produced in Viking Dublin, but we cannot know for sure if this example is imported or a homegrown copy.

Such items would have been affordable and easy to produce, but might have cost a little more than some of the simpler styles of fastenings made from wood or bone. (Mainman & Rogers, 2000.) My version is not a replica of E81:4681, as I couldn’t find anybody making them. It is however a copy of an extremely similar brooch found in Lincolnshire, made by Blueaxe Reproductions.

Bead necklace (E81:4869 & E81:4870.) 10th century, Winetavern Street.

The Catalogue of Exhibition (1973) for the National Museum of Ireland describes E81:4870 as follows: “Thirteen green glass beads, two amber beads and four fragments of green glass beads (not exhibited.) The glass beads are globular and coiled and measure from 3mm. to 7mm. long. The amber beads, light in colour, are 6mm. in diameter. 10th century. Winetavern Street.” with E81:4869 being described as “Similar in every way to those described above.” They were found scattered together in the same area in the street, so were catalogued and displayed together.

E81:4869 & E81:4870 on display at the National Museum of Ireland.

I put together my necklaces using some vintage green glass beads and some faux-amber glass beads from Tillerman Beads. My beads are ever so slightly larger than the originals and they are far more even- the original green glass beads were quite crudely made with lots of lumps and bumps. They are however close in colour and size, with the threading order being left up to interpretation. It is unknown what the originals were threaded with due to deterioration of the threading medium, but I chose to use undyed linen thread as it would have been readily available at the time.

Wool dress in 2/1 diamond twill, mimicking lichen purple (and woad?) dye. 10th century, inspired by several Dublin textile fragments.

My 10th century dress is made of a lightweight and fine 2/1 diamond twill wool, which was bought secondhand from a friend. It was not dyed naturally, but with modern chemical dyes in the pursuit of quite a different shade than it ended up. I use it here in order to mimic a shade of lichen purple, a dyestuff that was found on numerous textiles in Viking Dublin (Walton, 1988.) An exhaustive catalogue of all the textiles found in Dublin (of the kind we have from York!) is sadly not available to my knowledge, so basing my textiles on specific individual finds has been challenging. Pritchard (2020) does however mention a mid-10th century fragment of 2/2 chevron twill from the Fishamble Street site that tested positive for lichen purple and describes it as the “finest of the warp-chevron twills” from that deposit. The finest examples of twill weave wools from Dublin are equivalent in quality to those found in high status contexts at Cnip, York, London and Birka. This indicates that there were Hiberno-Scandinavian folks living within Dyflin that had both the money and connections to own some very nice cloth, potentially imported from abroad. (Pritchard, 2014.)

I am stood on the site of the original Viking Age dwellings on Winetavern Street. I’d invite you in, but it’s a bit drafty these days!

When it comes to lichen purple itself, I cannot be certain that this shade is perfect as it was not dyed naturally. There are a great many species of lichen that produce orchil dye and many of them produce more of a magenta or hot pink than a modern purple! Lichen are also slow-growing and many species are protected, so collecting them for the purpose of anything other than mini-dyebaths is generally discouraged. If you are not convinced by this colour representing lichen purple alone, there is a contemporary find of fine diamond twill from London dyed with lichen purple and woad, both dyestuffs being commonly found (albeit not together) among the Dublin textiles (Pritchard, 2020.)

Another cool thing about this fabric that I wasn’t sure where else to mention: it has been suggested that fine diamond twills like these were being polished by Viking Age Dubliners in order to bring out the natural check pattern that is produced when weaving them. The broken remains of what is thought by archaeologists to be glass smoothing stones (found all over the Viking world, including in York) were recovered during the Dublin excavations. When rubbed with a smooth surface like these glass proto-irons, it can cause the surface of wool cloth to become shiny and smooth, bringing out the details of the weave (Pritchard, 2014, 2020.) I think that’s pretty cool, but it has not been proven just yet!

In terms of pattern, I kept it very simple as I generally do. I made a slim-fitting skirted dress with side gores from the waist, underarm gores for movement and a round keyhole neckline. The tunics from Skjoldehamn, Moselund and Kragelund (dated to late 10th-early 11th century) all feature similar constructions with mostly rectangular bodies and triangular gores to add width and shape. Contemporary English, Scandinavian and Continental sources show ankle-length dresses fitting this silhouette on all female figures. You might also notice that my side gores have been pieced using offcuts- this is not based on a specific Dublin find, but for economy. Piecing is evidenced in several extant Viking Age garments and it demonstrates that historical people didn’t necessarily share our need for symmetry. My dress is handsewn using fine linen thread, waxed in beeswax.

Underneath, I’m wearing a bleached linen underdress of much the same construction and pattern.

Needlebound textile, based on fragment (E190:7430.) 10th century, Fishamble Street.

Detail of E190:7430. Source: Pritchard (1992) p. 102.

I am currently working on a pair of needlebound socks using the Dublin stitch, which was used in a tiny fragment found in Fishamble Street. The original fragment is too small to determine what item it belonged to, so I am taking inspiration from the York sock (the stitch type of which seems similar in structure to Dublin stitch!) E190:7430 is described in Pritchard (1992) as being made from two-ply (Z/S-ply) wool yarn dyed with lichen purple.

Since lichen purple is hard to come by and takes a long time to produce, I used a naturally dyed purplish madder yarn that I obtained several years ago at Wolin. My goal is eventually to have some real lichen dye to dye a fleece with and spin it into some yarn suitable for a better quality E190:7430 replica.

Cloak in 2/2 diagonal twill, mimicking woad dye. 10-11thC, based on several textiles from Fishamble Street and other Dublin sites.

At the top of Fishamble Street.

My cloak is a very simple square item measuring approximately 150x150cm, made by me from a heavy wool twill from Old Craft. Two of the edges are selvedge and the other two I unravelled for a fringe on each edge. I’m gradually working my way through tasselling it, though the current fringe seems to be holding up admirably in the meantime. It is not naturally dyed, but is similar in shade to a deep woad dye. Heavier twills using thicker and coarser yarns were found among the Fishamble Street textile assembly (Pritchard, 2014.) It is thought that some of these heavier twills may have made up outer garments like cloaks, though no whole cloak has been found there. A comprehensive discussion of the evidence for women’s cloaks in the Viking Age by Hilde Thunem can be found here.

Some of these heavier twills show evidence of pile having been inserted into the weave, which would result in a shaggy and hard-wearing textile somewhat like a woollen faux fur (Pritchard, 1992.) 10-11th century finds of this type of textile from all across the Viking world supports the idea that shaggy cloaks were quite fashionable and it has been suggested that Ireland could have been one of the areas producing them. I’m already working on a pile woven cloak based on York fragments, but perhaps when I have a spare few months (so never), I could warp up my loom and weave myself a shaggy Dublin mantle. Watch this space!

Regarding the brooch, it is an Asgard replica of a 10th century York find, 10601. (Mainman & Rogers, 2000.) Similar to my lozenge brooch at the neckline, I faced the problem of no jewellers selling good quality replicas of the Dublin finds. If I am wrong, please tell me- this is a case where I would love to be wrong (though my wallet may not.) In the discussion of my lozenge brooch, I mentioned that mass-produced lead-alloy brooches were being imported into Dublin from England, many of them being disc brooches. Over 30 disc brooches were found in the Dublin excavations (Wallace, 2016) and it’s fascinating to see how similar some of them are to finds from London and York.

Dublin disc brooch E122:1. Source: Wallace (2016.) p.369.
York disc brooch 10601. Source: Mainman & Rogers. (2000.) p.2573.

So, I decided to choose a York brooch that was as similar to one of the Dublin examples as I could and I settled on York’s item 10601 as a replacement for Dublin’s E122:1 (found in Christchurch Place.) They are both cast lead-alloy disc brooches, decorated with a florid scrollwork design in the centre and surrounded by rings of “beaded” borders. This is a very English design and judging by their geographical spread, it would seem that mass-produced brooches like this were popular in Early Medieval trade centres like Dublin. While they were especially popular in the 10th century and that is when they first appear in Dublin, I could very well have worn this disc brooch for my 11th century impression too, as their popularity did continue well past 1000AD.


Mid 11th century outfit

Silk veil (DHC17 or E172:9115) Early 11th century, Fishamble Street.

The various ways of wearing (and not wearing) the silk veil.

DHC17 is described as follows: “Veil-type cloth. Fishamble Street II, E172:9115. (…) Fibre: Silk. Weave: Tabby, open. Colour: Reddish brown (…) retains remains of red colour. (…) Dye: Analysis undertaken; lichen purple detected.” (Wincott Heckett, 2003.)

My replica of this item was made by Blueaxe Reproductions, using silk hand-dyed by the Mulberry Dyer. It is made to the same dimensions as the original and it is interesting to note that while this is the largest headcovering found in Viking Dublin, it doesn’t come close to the size of many veils or wimples seen in contemporary English art.

It is my personal belief that while DHC17 was undoubtedly a luxury item made from imported material, it could very well represent wealthy urban fashion as opposed to that being worn by the very highest echelons of society at the time. This could explain the restrained size of the item when compared to the idealised depictions in artwork, as it is not only more economical but prudent to wear a slightly less huge and voluminous piece of cloth in the muddy lanes of Dyflin, even if you are wealthy. This theory also applies to the size of silk caps found in Dublin and other Viking trade centres, which in reconstruction very rarely cover the whole head of an adult (I don’t buy the idea that they were all children’s garments.)

The size of DHC17 also contributed to my decision to wear my braids down- unless worn in conjunction with and weighed down by a heavy cloak, it’s not really possible to get DHC17 to cover your whole head and neck. It’s possible that commoners may have been less strict about covering their entire head and hairline in the way we see in artwork, so I tried that out here. We really don’t have much to go on, other than the remains of headcoverings (which are skimpy) and the drawings of veiled women (which are decidedly not skimpy.) A tiny 11-12th century figurine in the National Museum of Ireland (item 2002:85) is probably Irish rather than Hiberno-Scandinavian, but she also bucks the veiled trend with her braids and I am enchanted by her:

She is made from copper-alloy and came from an unknown locality in Ireland, which really sucks because she is adorable and a rare detailed female depiction from this period. If you really disagree with this styling of my veil for an 11th century impression, rest assured- I restyled it later when putting on my cloak and it resembles a more traditional 11th century silhouette.

Due to heavy winds while we were taking pictures of the rest of my outfit, I had to secure my veil with my brocaded headband in order to avoid losing it! While the Dublin dragons fragment dates to the 10th century rather than the 11th, these brocaded silk fillets were very much still in fashion by the time DHC17 was being worn. Remains of another gold brocaded band were found in nearby Christchurch Place, dating to the late 11th century. (Pritchard, 2021.)

Wool dress in 2/2 diamond twill, dyed with indigotin. 10-11thC, inspired by several Dublin textile fragments.

My dress is made from a 2/2 diamond twill wool, dyed using indigo- Viking Age Dubliners would have used woad, but the colour compound in indigo and woad (indigotin) is the exact same. Preferably I should have used a 2/1 diamond twill for this project: Pritchard (2020) notes that while 2/2 diamond twills do appear in 11th century levels at Fishamble Street, they are rare. Interestingly, plain 2/2 weaves made up the largest group of textiles at this site. Next time, I would replace this either with a 2/1 diamond twill or a plainer diagonal twill, which would be more inkeeping with evidence for Fishamble Street at this time. Underneath, I am wearing the same bleached linen underdress as I did for my 10th century set.

In terms of pattern, my blue dress is very similar to my purple one. To what extent we can really recreate a 10th century dress versus an 11th century one is limited, as we have no finds of dresses or even tunics from Ireland (or even from Britain!) for this era. My 11th century dress does have gores at the sides to add width at the skirt, but by the 11th century, women’s fashion tends to favour a long and relatively slim silhouette with skirts not being drawn as voluminous. This suited me well, as my fabric was composed of an offcut and I did not have the cloth to add too many gores.

Never underestimate the power of 24 hours in a suitcase to crease everything you own.

For my sleeves however, I did use a slightly looser cut, a trend which can be seen in English and Continental manuscripts from the 10th century onwards and only increases as the 11th century goes on. These sleeves would eventually become extremely wide (examples can be seen on queenly figures) and must be related to the Norman bliaut that would become in vogue in Britain after the Norman Conquest. Examine these examples of English illuminated manuscripts and artwork from the mid 10th to late 11th century and keep in mind that by the 11th century, a significant portion of the country’s ruling class was Anglo-Scandinavian:

More examples of fashion in illuminated manuscripts, carvings and artwork can be found here: https://www.uvm.edu/~hag/rhuddlan/images/

As my Dublin 11th century lady is an urban commoner, I doubt that she would be sporting the floor-length sleeves of the royals. It would be incredibly impractical and potentially outside her price range, especially if she was using imported cloth. It is however my belief that she would be aware of the trends from abroad, as she lived in a bustling trade centre that we know was receiving regular imports from Britain and the Continent. While it’s unlikely that she would have access to the illuminated manuscripts featuring the elite that we use as our sources, we can observe a general trend of sleeve growth when comparing images of women throughout the Early Medieval period in Northern Europe. I see no reason why this trend could not have been reflective of actual clothing being worn contemporarily. I therefore feel comfortable in my mercantile lady indulging in a slightly baggier sleeve on her overdress than her grandmother might have.

Tablet woven belt (E172:11815.) Late 10th- early 11th century, Fishamble Street.

This belt is based on tablet woven fragment of woollen braid, found in Fishamble Street and dating to the late 10th- early 11th century. The original item E172:11815 was woven on 16 four-hole tablets using a wool yarn of semi-fine fleece type (Pritchard, 2021.)

E172:11815 in Pritchard (2021.)

As I could find no details of dye analysis and images of the band show no discernable colour, I wove my first version in a naturally pigmented dark wool. Eventually my goal is to replace this with another replica made with a smoother and finer yarn, dyed with one of the natural dyes found on other Viking Dublin textiles. A smoother yarn would also improve the texture of the band, as the original still shows its pattern well and it is less defined on my version.

To what extent belts were worn by women in Viking Age Dublin is not known. As I wished to include my tooled leather knife sheath in this impression, I chose to include a belt so the sheath could be suspended from it. The original purpose of E172:11815 is also unknown as it survived only as a fragment, but its narrow width of 12mm and plain weave makes it quite suitable as a belt.

Tooled leather sheath (DLS 83 or E122:13138.) c. 1050-1070, Christchurch Place.

The leather sheath DLS 83 or E122:13138 is described in Cameron (2007) as follows: “Sheath; complete. The flap has three holes, the top corner stitched. Back seam, stitched at 5mm intervals. Tooled decoration. On the front, upper section, running scroll with hatched borders; lower section, a faint three-strand plait. On the back, upper section, a vertical band and three diamond-shaped motifs in a panel; lower section, two vertical lines.”

Dating to the mid 11th century, my sheath is classified as a “B2, winged” type. B2, winged was a new style of sheath that first starts appearing in the 11th century and apparently some of the oldest examples of it were found during the Dublin excavations. This new style was inspired by a combination of sheaths from various cultures present in 10th century Dublin, taking design features from them all in turn. The style was seemingly adopted with gusto by the leatherworkers in Hiberno-Scandivian Dublin and sheaths belonging to this style are found there for another 250 years, even surviving Ireland’s Norman invasion (Cameron, 2007.) B2, winged sheaths are commonly found tooled with decorative abstract designs, my sheath is therefore quite representative of its type.

My version was created several years ago by Merchant of Menace, to accompany a little knife with a bone handle that I use for my day-to-day Viking household tasks. I couldn’t bring my knife along with me to Ireland in my hand luggage, so you shall have to imagine I have it somewhere out of shot. (This is an issue that I am sure would have proved extremely problematic for the early Scandinavians “visiting” the Dublin area in the 9th century, had they travelled via Ryanair longships.)

DLS 83 (or E122:13138) line drawing. Source: Cameron (2007, p. 85.)

Jet ring (E81:10, E172:10608, etc.) Winetavern Street, Fishamble Street.

A selection of jet or lignite items on display at the National Museum of London.

Finger rings were found in Dublin, as well as bracelets with a D-cross section that seem to have been popular and many other fragments. The broken and unfinished pieces would provide evidence for jet being worked in the town, after being imported from Whitby. Wallace (2016, p.298) suggests that one possible location for jet working could be in Yard 2 of Fishamble Street, where it is certain that amber was being worked on a commercial level in the Viking Age.

My ring is made from agate instead of jet, as I couldn’t find an affordable jet ring in one piece like this. However, it has the same D-cross section as several of the Dublin rings and is solidly black enough (and light enough in weight) to give the same impression as jet. If I could ever find a piece of jet large enough and a craftsperson willing to make it, I’d love to replace it with a jet or lignite version in the future.

Turned wooden bowl. 11th century, Fishamble Street.

The original was made of alder, whereas mine is of ash. It was made by Waffle and Wood based upon a photo shared by Irish Archaeology.ie. It is not mentioned in Viking-Age Decorated Wood (Lang, 1988), however, this is not unusual- I don’t know of a publicly available exhaustive catalogue of all the wood found in Wood Quay. Turned bowls and cups are commonly found at Early Medieval sites and Dublin is no exception. The fragments of at least 600 turned wooden vessels and 300 cores were found across numerous sites in the town. Wallace (2016, p.251) suggests that the sheer volume of finds would support turned vessels not only being used in the town often but also being produced there too.

My replica.

Stylistically, the Dublin bowls generally tend to be straight-sided- this bowl does not fit the trend. However, it is decorated on the outside with incised lines, which is a feature seen on other contemporary bowls from the area. The fact that the bowl retained its foot after the turning process is interesting, as they are usually removed. We’re not sure exactly what the bowl was made to contain or if it even had a specific purpose- I used mine to hold some hazelnuts, which were a popular foodstuff in Viking Dublin (Geraghty, 1996.)

I for one would absolutely love some more information on this item from Fishamble Street!

Source: Irish Archaeology.ie

Bone ringed pin (E172:13988.) 945-55AD, Fishamble Street.

Now is my time to admit a small mistake. I’m not sure if it was the wind, the cold or the excitement getting to me, but I somehow got it into my head that the bone ringed pin E172:13988 dated to the 11th century. It does not, it was dated quite concretely using a coin found on its level to 945-55AD- so it would have been more at home perhaps with my 10th century set. Whoops! Then again, ringed pins of this design (albeit in metal) are a Hiberno-Scandinavian specialty that became popular in the 10th century in Dublin and remained so for another 200 years at least (Fanning, 1994.) They are thought to be Irish in origin and adopted into Hiberno-Scandinavian fashion, where they spread in popularity to Britain and Scandinavia. So perhaps, had I worn a metal version of this pin, it wouldn’t be such a mistake after all!

E172:13988 on display at the National Museum of Ireland.

The remarkable and rare thing about E172:13988 is that it is made entirely from bone. My replica (which is highly cherished and only worn this once for the photos!) was made and gifted to me by my friend Peter Merrett. Peter, like the Viking Age craftsman who made the original must have been, is marvellously talented and has decades of experience in boneworking. Despite this, he said that he would not be making any more of these in a hurry, as they are difficult to make and too easy to break. He reckons that E172:13988 may have been a show of skill for the craftsman or perhaps one of those “really good ideas” that you quickly realise is not so good once you start.

Fanning (1994) describes E172:13988 as follows: “Bone. Polished bone shank tapers to fine point. Head is actually perforated in an hourglass fashion but is nicked below to give the impression of being looped, hence skeuomorphic of a metal looped-over pin. The small lozenge-sectioned ring is slightly damaged, with one narrowed end complete. It swivels freely in the pin-head.” (p. 113.)

I had to look up what “skeuomorphic” meant and apparently it means when a thing has a feature that is included to make it look functional, but it’s purely decorative. In the case of E172:13988, that means that the original ring didn’t originally swivel round in the hole of the pin, whereas Peter’s version does (as he is a master of his craft and was able to manage without breaking it!) You learn something every day!

References

Cameron, E. (2007). Scabbards and Sheaths from Viking and Medieval Dublin. Dublin: National Museum of Ireland.

Fanning, T. (1994). Viking Age Ringed Pins from Dublin. Dublin: Royal Irish Academy.

Geraghty, S. (1996). Viking Dublin: Botanical Evidence from Fishamble Street. Dublin: Royal Irish Academy. p.43.

Mainman, A. J. & Rogers, N. S. H. (2000) Craft, Industry and Everyday Life: Finds from Anglo-Scandinavian York. York: Council for British Archaeology. p.2571-2574.

National Museum of Ireland. (1973). Catalogue of Exhibition. Dublin: Department of Education.

Pritchard, F. (1992). Aspects of the Wool Textiles from Viking Age Dublin. In: Bender Jørgensen, L & Munksgaard, E. (Eds). Archaeological Textiles in Northern Europe: Report from the 4th NESAT Symposium. Copenhagen: Det Kongelige Danske Kunstakademi. pp.93-104.

Pritchard, F. (2014). Textiles from Dublin. In: Coleman, N. L. & Løkka, N. (Eds). Kvinner i vikingtid. Oslo: Scandinavian Academic Press. pp.224-240.

Pritchard, F. (2020). Twill Weaves from Viking Age Dublin. In: Bravermanová, M., Březinová, H. & Malcolm-Davies, J. (Eds). Archaeological Textiles – Links Between Past and Present NESAT XIII. Langenweißbach: Verlag Beier & Beran. pp.115-123.

Pritchard, F. (2021). Evidence of tablet weaving in Viking-age Dublin. In: Pritchard, F. (Ed). Crafting Textiles: Tablet Weaving, Sprang, Lace and Other Techniques from the Bronze Age to the Early 17th Century. Oxford: Oxbow Books.

Wallace, P. F. (2016). Viking Dublin: The Wood Quay Excavations. Sallins: Irish Academic Press. pp.251-309.

Walton, P. (1988.) ‘Dyes of the Viking Age: A Summary of Recent Work’, Dyes in History and Archaeology 7th Annual Meeting. York. York: Anglo-Saxon Laboratory. p.14-20. Available at: https://www.aslab.co.uk/app/download/15932285/ASLab+Walton+1988ver2+DHA7+Dyes.pdf

Wincott Heckett, E. (2003) Viking Age Headcoverings from Dublin. Dublin: Royal Irish Academy.

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A Wool Cap from 10th Century Dublin. DHC33

The cap worn tied behind the head.

This cap is based on item DHC33 from Fishamble Street, just one of the roads in Viking Dublin’s Wood Quay neighbourhood. All of the street photographs were taken on location in nearby Winetavern Street, Dublin.

DHC33 was made of wool and like all of the Dublin caps (silk or wool) it was woven in tabby/plain weave. It was found in layers that dated to the early-mid 10th century and its estimated size as a cloth piece was 490mm x 185mm. (Wincott Heckett, 2003). The other caps found in Dublin are extremely similar in size to DHC33, which could indicate a central production site somewhere in Viking Dublin.

Fig. 53. DHC33 (E172:11205), cap from Fishamble Street. From Wincott Heckett, E. (2003) p. 60.

Similar to all the other suspected caps from Wood Quay, DHC33 showed evidence of a curved seam along the outside of the crown. This results in the distinctive shark’s fin look I am sporting here. Something I didn’t include in my own version was that a small amount of fabric was cut away from the back “fin” after the curve was sewn and then whipstitched to prevent fraying. To my shame, I will admit that I didn’t include this because I didn’t read the literature closely enough before making it- the drawings show such a small amount having been removed that I cannot fathom why they did it.

This trimming of the “fin” is not a feature shared by any of the other caps, though there are other small, conspicuous variations in how the caps were put together. I wonder if these were slightly different methods used by different craftspeople within the same workshop- I know I have my own preferences of how I sew that differ from my friends!

Due to the incomplete nature of DHC33, we’re not sure if the back seam would have been originally sewn closed the entire way up the back or left half open at the bottom, like some recreations of the Lincoln silk cap and caps DHC39 and 40 from Dublin. I decided to keep mine closed, but I’d like to make a version of an open cap soon- I think this would look really nice over a bun held in place with one of the many small pins found in Wood Quay.

The cap worn tied behind the head, side profile.

What you might find interesting is that the silk caps from York and Lincoln (fairly contemporary to the Dublin caps) both feature the curved type of seam over the crown too, except on the inside of the garments- see my recreation of the York one here. This results in a cap curved to fit the contour of the wearer’s head, with the excess point of fabric being hidden inside the cap. These resemble later Medieval coifs more closely.

Detail of 364r “Meister Gottfried von Straßburg” from the Manesse Codex, 14thC. Source. (I just wish I looked this cute and sassy in my caps!)

Like the majority of the Dublin textile remains, this cap was not analysed for dye. In my recreation, I decided to dye my cap fabric with madder and was surprised to achieve a really good robust red for once. Madder was detected on some of the Dublin textiles that were subjected to dye analysis (Pritchard, 1992) and it is commonly found at other sites across the Viking world. (Walton, 1989.)

The cap worn tied behind the head, back view.

Another distinctive feature of this cap is the decorative braid along its front edge. It is described as:

“Edging cord, very dark brown wool, 5mm diameter, matching cap in colour, of six strands 1mm each in diameter, Z-cabled together, each strand Z-spun 2(S)-plied. Cord whip-stitched onto hemmed edge, 3 stitches per 10mm, 6mm long and slanting to form decorative edging.” (Wincott Heckett, 2003)

I chose to use a naturally pigmented dark brown wool for my cord in order to have a bit of contrast, but it’s not clear if the original would have since no dye analysis was performed. DHC33 also had a small piece of wool yarn sewn to the front edge, a few inches above the corner. Could this be the remains of a tie? I chose to use more robust linen ties, inspired by the small remaining piece of sewn linen tie extant on the front edge of DHC40, a contemporary silk cap found in the same level of Fishamble Street.

How were the Dublin caps worn?

The cap tied under the chin, front view.

The cap tied underneath the chin, side profile.

The cap tied underneath the chin, back view.

Personally, I think that wearing the Dublin caps tied behind the head results in the overall most flattering fit from the front and side. This is of course informed by my modern aesthetics and sense of style, so my own preference doesn’t necessarily indicate which way of wearing it is most accurate or likely. Wearing the caps with the ties underneath the chin is a bit goofy, but it does make it fit more securely and tightly to the head, which is warmer in the windy and rainy terrain near the Liffey.

If you like my Viking Dublin content, please stay tuned- I created this cap as part of a whole speculative Wood Quay outfit. These photos are just a handful of a larger photo-shoot on location and the outfit article is coming very soon.

References

Pritchard, F. (1992). Aspects of the Wool Textiles from Viking Age Dublin. In: Bender Jørgensen, L. and Munksgaard, E. (Ed). Archaeological Textiles in Northern Europe: Report from the 4th NESAT Symposium. Copenhagen: Det Kongelige Danske Kunstakademi. pp.93-104.

Walton, P. (1989) Textiles, Cordage and Raw Fibre from 16–22 Coppergate. York: York Archaeological Trust. PDF.

Wincott Heckett, E. (2003) Viking Age Headcoverings from Dublin. Dublin: Royal Irish Academy.

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Impressions: A Hiberno-Scandinavian Townsperson of Dyflin, Mid 10th Century

Or, Adventures In Wood Quay!

Location: Dyflin (Dublin), Ireland
Date: Mid to late 10th Century
Culture: Hiberno Scandinavian
Estimated Social Class: Free working woman

This Valentines Day wasn’t especially traditional, but it was one of my best ever. Due to Coronavirus nerfing many routes to Luxembourg from England, Eric and I had to fly via Dublin in order to see our family. We decided to make the most of it and stay for Valentines Day on the way back.

What did I want to do? I wanted to go to Wood Quay and pose in the cold in a quickly cobbled-together Dublin impression.

This outfit isn’t especially complex, as I could only take a small bag that would fit within my cabin luggage. That means no undertunic and no turnshoes- you can see my cowboy boots in later pictures. This set of gear is a work in progress and in future, I’ll be getting a few pairs of suitable shoes based on Dublin remains. (Note: if anyone has access to good publications on shoes from Viking Age Dublin, please hit me up!)

Wood Quay is a historic area of Dublin, only a stone’s throw away from bustling Temple Bar and the Ha’penny Bridge. It made headlines worldwide in the 1970s when the area was revealed to be an archaeological goldmine during the building of a new Dublin City Council headquarters. The story is actually fascinating and I can write a “For Dummies” article in future in folks are interested.

Excavations on Fishamble Street, showing the outlines of Hiberno-Scandinavian homes- they are Type 1 in shape. Photo credit: National Museum of Ireland.

The short version, however, is that there was nationwide and international protest against the development, in order to first properly excavate the whole block of all its rich historical goodies. Dublin City Council ignored them and built their new civic offices on the site anyway, with excavations finishing in the March of 1981 (Wallace, 2016.)

Headscarf based on fragment DHC6 (Fishamble Street)

I’ve written about this piece before (my article about it can be read here.) It’s a plain weave woollen scarf, dyed with an exhaust woad bath over a naturally pale grey. It was found on Fishamble Street and dated to the mid 10th century. I tasselled the ends by hand and the dimensions of the scarf are based directly on the textile remains labelled DHC6, though my tassels are slightly simpler than the original.

I like to wear it by itself without a cap and with a simple woollen fillet (tablet woven), but it could easily be combined with other headbands and caps to give different looks. I tied my hair with a very simple finger loop braid- we don’t have any evidence that I know of for hair ties in the Viking Age, but simple cords, braids and thonging must have been used.

I imagine that a weakly dyed item of wool such as this could reasonably have been worn by an average city dweller wanting to keep up with trends. It isn’t a large item and so likely would not have carried the same prestige as the huge voluminous veils worn by queens and saints in manuscripts, however, it could have served to provide either some form of modesty or just fashion for the wearer. Wincott-Heckett (2003) suggests that these small tasselled scarves were of local production and so could indicate a local fashion.

Amber pendant in cross shape (Fishamble Street)

This pendant was made for me by my friend Peter Merrett, based on an example found on Fishamble Street (E190:6248.) It was dated to the mid to late 10th century.

My version is in a lighter amber than the original, which was more orange. Lots of amber fragments were found in the Wood Quay area and particularly in Fishamble Street. Wallace (2016, p.291) explains how at least one house specifically (FS 20 at building level 5 in yard 2) showed evidence that it was the main centre of amber production in late 10th century Dyflin. 257 objects were found in and around the site, while 1,240 worked amber pieces in various stages of completion were also discovered there.

Amber was found in fifty-three of the buildings on Fishamble Street, with 41% of them being recovered from FS 20 and its yard. The Dublin amber finds were made up of beads, pendants, rings and of course the waste and unworked amber nuggets. While some of the amber items for sale in Dublin may have been for a foreign market, it seems that the cruciform pendants had a local flavour- cross pendants in amber haven’t been found in England and the English jet crosses aren’t especially similar in style in my opinion.

Since amber would have been a commonly traded good in the Wood Quay neighbourhood, I envision my Dublin woman as having a piece or two. Perhaps like me, she bought her cross pendant from her craftsman friend up the road or indeed, perhaps she was the craftsperson herself.

Bone bird-headed pin (Winetavern Street/Christchurch Place)

This pin is based on a bone pin (E122:61) found on either Winetavern Street (Wallace, 2016. p.303) or Christchurch Place (National Museum of Ireland, 1973)- different publications give different find sites. It has a carved terminal in the shape of a bird and was dated quite vaguely to the 10-11th century.

A multitude of bone pins were found in Viking Age Dublin. Like the York examples, they range from plain all the way to ornate- some of the more decorative examples include cruciform tops, ram’s horn and animal-headed. We can’t tell for certain if they were used for fastening clothing, as hair pins or indeed for some other purpose.

Do you think it looks more like a swan or a goose, a duck, a pelican? I can’t decide but I like it a lot.

Copper alloy toiletry set (Fishamble Street)

Toiletry sets like this one (E190:0000) are a relatively common find across the Viking world- other examples can be found from York, Hedeby, Birka, Gotland and many other sites. Mine is one of two found on Fishamble Street and is dated to the 10th century. It is made of copper alloy and consists of a little tube, hanging from a ring by a chain, along with several other tools- a pair of tweezers, a nail/tooth pick and one other unknown item which was broken.

The tube would have been used as a needlecase, either with a roll of fibre shoved inside with the needles or indeed with something blocking each end to make a sealed tube. Other examples from the Viking world indicate that sealed needle cases were common, though neither needle case found at Wood Quay had a stopper or a lid. I put a little linen cloth inside mine, more for appearances than anything else. The needles that your Hiberno Scandinavian lady would carry with her could be made from iron, copper alloy or bone- needles are a common find at Viking Age sites.

Textiles

I didn’t plan the textiles for this outfit specifically for a Dublin impression- so they aren’t perfect. I opted for a mustard yellow wool dress and a diamond twill shawl in a khaki green-mustard. Both colours can be achieved on wool using natural dyes used in period, namely dyer’s greenweed and weld.

In the absence of any Viking Age tunic finds from Ireland, the pattern for my dress was based on the 11th century Skjoldehamn find from Andøya, Norway. It has four gores from the waist, two at the sides, one at the front and one at the back. I feel like this gives a more swooshy skirted look that I really like and that fits with what few contemporary images of women from Ireland and Britain we have. My shawl is rectangular with tassels at each end.

The dress is made from a simple 2/2 twill, which is found commonly at many Viking Age sites. Under normal circumstances, I would also wear a tabby woven linen underdress- but I couldn’t fit one in my luggage! Next time, I’ll take the longship instead of flying Ryanair.

Pennanular brooch

For some stupid reason, I didn’t take any photos of the brooches in the museum! They’re in the background of a few other glamour shots of the toiletry sets, mocking me, but not sharp enough to show. Sorry!

Preferably, I would have a suitable little disc brooch to close my neckline for a Dublin impression. 30 such brooches have been found in 10-11th century contexts there and Wallace (2016, p.368) describes how they were likely imports from England or Germany, where they were very fashionable at the time. It’s also striking to note how similar many examples are to York and London finds. That being said, I didn’t want to use York brooches for a Dublin outfit! I’m searching for a good replica as we speak.

One example of a pennanular brooch from Fishamble Street is E190:6455. It’s made of copper alloy and dates to the 10th century. Wallace (p.280) relates this to another brooch from Ballinderry crannog among others, labeling the penannular style as an indigenously Irish one. He explains that this could indicate that Hiberno-Scandinavian townspeople had a taste for Irish jewellery or simply that an Irish person came into the town wearing their own native fashion.

Bonus photo dump: street signs and Wood Quay pavement plaques

I’m just a massive nerd and I love seeing the street names I recognise from the archaeological reports.

There are a series of bronze plaques in the pavements round Wood Quay, made by sculptor Rachel Joynt. An attempt to remind those walking the street of the history beneath their feet, they feature a great selection of the finds from the area- including a familiar bird pin!

Another cool thing in Wood Quay is the outline of a few Viking homes on Winetavern Street. I took my photos stood in the porch of one such house, in the shadow of the cathedral and flanked by the imposing Dublin City Council offices. It was really cold that day, but it was powerful to stand in a little open space and to envision what came before and the quiet street that sits here now.

This was a spur of the moment thing and not as polished as I would normally like. I’m planning on finishing this set of clothing and have another one in the works- but I still had so much fun.

References

National Museum of Ireland (1973) Viking And Medieval Dublin. Catalogue of Exhibition . Dublin: An Roinn Oideachais. p51.

Wallace, P. F. (2016) Viking Dublin The Wood Quay Excavations. Sallins: Irish Academic Press. p1-558.

Wincott Heckett, E. (2003) Viking Age Headcoverings from Dublin. Dublin: Royal Irish Academy.

A Wool Scarf from 10th Century Dublin, DHC6

This wool scarf is based on fragment DHC6, found at Fishamble Street II and dated to a mid-10thC context, find number E172:13714 (Wincott-Heckett, 2003.)

Source: Wincott Heckett, E. (2003) p.16

The fragment was estimated to have been 450mm by 240mm originally, including fringes at each end. I made mine to the same dimensions. Like most of the Dublin headcoverings, DHC6 was woven to size, which mine was not (meaning I had to do a small rolled hem each side.)

DHC6 was not analysed for dye, but it was described as being “very dusky red” in colour upon conservation. Many of the fragments were described thus, even those in which no evidence for dye could be found. The scarf I made was a natural light grey colour, which I overdyed with a weak fresh woad dye I happened to have on the go. Indigotin was possibly detected on another Dublin scarf, the silk fragment DHC12.

This scarf is the first I’ve made of this type and tasselled by hand. It felt like the fringe took a thousand years, it was not my favourite task. This is despite the fact that the tassels on many of the Dublin scarves are longer and more complex than the ones I did here. I can only assume that the folks making these scarves historically were skilled and very used to tasselling things, meaning they didn’t feel like they were losing their religion like I did.

This fragment is assumed to be a headcovering and since it (and the others recovered from Wood Quay) are not grave finds, we have to rely on assumptions. I tried it on several different ways to see how it looked and well:

Simply pinned at the top of the head.
Side view.

It is safe to say that it is a bit goofy-looking. This has never stopped me however, so undeterred, I just accessorised more:

Pinned to the top of the head and worn with a woollen fillet.
Side view.

The wool fillet didn’t do much, except for cover up some of my formidable forehead. I tried it over the top of the scarf, which would at least add stability and make me look less like the Flying Nun.

Worn with the fillet over the scarf and tied behind the head.
Side view.

This way of wearing it did seem to be more suitable for day-to-day use and resembled the silhouette of Dublin or York caps more closely (not that this is necessarily the purpose.) It is suggested by Wincott Heckett (2003) that these scarves could have been worn as headbands or around the shoulders, which wouldn’t be possible with this scarf as it is just too small. I will test those ideas when I make some other scarves based on larger fragments, some dyed and some undyed.

I like this way of wearing the scarf best.

References

Wincott Heckett, E. (2003) Viking Age Headcoverings from Dublin. Dublin: Royal Irish Academy.

An 11th Century Man’s Hat from Dublin- A Parallel With Early Medieval Frisia?

Hats! One of my favourite things. The discerning Early Medieval woman (and those who wish to dress like one) seem to be relatively spoiled for choice: caps, hoods, veils, wimples and even headbands are all options. Unfortunately, the evidence for male headgear in period is generally not as well-represented. Chrystel R. Brandenburgh (2010) did a fantastic study of early textiles found in Frisia (a region in what is now the Netherlands) which details several hat fragments dated to the Viking Age, including an extremely spiffy example from Aalsum.


The original hat found in Aalsum (object nr. FM 33-373), in the collection of the Fries Museum. Photo taken from Brandenburgh (2010).

The Aalsum hat is dated to 750-900 AD, towards the end of the estimated habitation of the find site. It is woven in a 2/2 diamond twill and is made of brown wool with no dye being detected. While there are a couple of other hats from Frisia with some form of neck flap (presumably to shield the neck from the elements), I was interested by this hat. Nothing similar shows up in sources from the British Isles nor Ireland that I know of, either written or pictorial.

That is, until I saw this in one of my books on Viking Age Dublin.



Well. Hello, handsome.

This cute little guy is featured in Viking-Age Decorated Wood by James T. Lang, part of the Medieval Dublin Excavations 1962-81 series (page 32). A friend had mentioned this to me a few years ago, but we didn’t know anyone who had a copy to check. To my joy, I managed to snaffle one on eBay during the last lockdown and finally I was face-to-face with our lad.

He is described thusly:

“DW110. Small human head (gaming piece?) (E112:945) Christchurch Place (Fig.48)
In an antler pit, 26/1, contemporary with 11/1 platform. Late eleventh century.

H. 3.2 cm, D. 2.0 cm.

A primitive human head in a ‘Canterbury cap’. The eyes are mere dots.”


I hadn’t heard of a Canterbury cap before, so I Googled it. Turns out that this is a Canterbury cap, worn fetchingly by Archbishop Thomas Cranmer:



Hmmm. I’m not convinced. It’s not totally unlike the hat on the Dublin figurine, but I believe it to be distinct nevertheless. Other photos of Canterbury caps are just as different as Cranmer’s, they are much closer to a modern cardinal’s biretta than anything else. I would describe the Dublin figurine as having much in common with the Frisian Aalsum hat, despite there being an estimated 2 centuries between them (the Dublin figurine is put at late 11thC, meanwhile the Aalsum hat is dated to 750-900 based on the other objects found nearby.)

So, I decided to recreate a version of the Dublin figure’s hat, based on the earlier find from Aalsum. Bear in mind, this is highly speculative and something I did for fun. I do not believe that this one tiny late 11th century figurine is carte blanche for every Tumi, Ríkarðr and Halfdan to make them for their Danish or Anglo-Danish impressions. If you do find the Dublin figurine compelling, I would gently advise you to keep your hats for your late 11th century Dublin (or perhaps general Hiberno-Norse) outfits.



I actually made two hats- the first from some leftover red diamond twill and the second from some pinkish-lilac herringbone scraps. Both hats are made of wool and like the Aalsum find, they are not lined. I hemmed each piece individually with a rolled hem, then attached them all together with a whip stitch. Several of the Frisian hats were made in this way, as well as some of the woollen and silk caps from Dublin. It results in a strong and neatly constructed garment which is easy to fix if seams start to pull apart through wear.



Like every project, I learned as I went along. In future, I would cut the front piece of the hat a little shorter if I was really aiming for a Dublin figurine look. In addition to this, you can see in the photos of the red hat, there is a slight bunching at the front and the top seam had a habit of falling inwards slightly. This could be as a result of my pattern cutting (I drew out the oval for the top by hand) or indeed due to the nature of the whip stitched seam. I decided to try some decorative seam treatment on the second hat, both for aesthetic and structural purposes. I felt that it did remedy the caving-in issue somewhat due to giving it some more structure, plus it’s pretty. I used some woollen embroidery yarn that I had dyed with some of my homegrown woad, I think it gives a nice contrast to the pink-lilac.



Stitchwise, I opted for a chain stitch variant similar to the examples found on the hats from Dokkum, Oostrum and Leens. Most of these examples had a chain stitch that was visible on the outside of the hat and was done in a darker coloured thread, which would imply decorative contrast being the intent.

But the most important part: what is it like to wear? Well, my very own Dubgaill said he found this style of hat to be perfectly comfortable. He liked that it would protect the back of his neck from the elements and it’s cosy around the ears. That’s good enough for me!

I also had enough left of the pink herringbone to make myself a Dublin cap. We now have matching 10-11th century Irish hats, meaning we can be one of those sickening couples in both 2021 and 1021. Always good to know.



References:

Brandenburgh, C. R.. (2010). Early medieval textile remains from settlements in the Netherlands. An evaluation of textile production. Journal of Archaeology in the Low Countries. 2 (1), p41-79.

Flicke, G. (1545) Portrait of Thomas Cranmer. [Oil on panel] London: National Portrait Gallery. Found online at: https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Thomas_Cranmer_by_Gerlach_Flicke.jpg

Lang, J. T. (1988). Viking-age Decorated Wood: A Study of Its Ornament and Style. Dublin: National Museum of Ireland. p32.