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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Last year, I published an article on a set of Coppergate-inspired clothing. In that article, I mentioned that the shoes and socks I was wearing with that outfit were not exactly what I had hoped to include. I remedied this not long after we took the photo set and so now I’d like to share the new items with you!
One-piece ankle-shoes, fastened with a single toggle and flap (classified as Style 4a1)
These shoes were made for me by my friend Dean, who is a wonderful shoemaker. They’re entirely handsewn on maple sewing supports, with the purpose of making them as close to the original finds as possible.
Detail of diagram on p.3275 of Mould, Carlisle and Cameron (2003.)
Shoes with a single flap and toggle are dated to c.930/5–c.975 AD in York, with seventeen examples from 16-22 Coppergate. Single examples were found in deposits each dating to the late 9th century and to the 11th century, but it does seem that this style saw its heyday in the mid 10th century. Shoes belonging to this style have been found at other VA sites in York and further afield. (Mould, Carlisle, & Cameron, 2003. p.3304.)
Detail of the upper edge and the goatskin binding.
My shoes are made of soft calfskin uppers and thicker bovine leather for the soles. They have a decorative edge binding along the top edge made from goatskin, which is folded over and whipstitched down on the inside. This binding also serves to stiffen the fine leather of the uppers. To sew my shoes, Dean used a saddle stitch of a strong linen thread coated in shoemaker’s coad, a homemade blend of beeswax and birch tar. The most common stitching medium in the York shoes seems to have been animal fibre such as wool or leather thonging (MacGregor (1978), p.53), however, there is a find from Feasegate that appears to have been sewn with flax.
Details of the toggles.
Something interesting you may notice about these shoes is that both the toggle flaps and the single seams in the uppers are on the inside of the shoe. You will likely have seen many reproductions of boots like these with the toggles on the outside, which might seem more logical. However, the examples of these shoes from York all fasten over the instep and when you put them on, it is indeed easier to fasten them that way!
The toggles are very simple T-shapes of leather, with a slit cut in the top of the T and the length being pulled through in order to roll the toggle itself. The toggles and the loops they go through are secured to the shoe in one of several ways, but the most common is also the most simple- they are threaded through a series of slits cut into the flaps and inner quarters of the shoe. The tension of the leather holds the straps in place, but this method also allows for the fit to be adjusted. (Mould, Carlisle and Cameron, 2003. pp. 3302.)
The original wooden last, item 494 from the Lloyds Bank site. Photo credit Dean Thompson.
The last/support that Dean made my shoes on was based on a find from Lloyds Bank, item 494. (MacGregor, 1982. pp. 144.) The original dated to the 10th century and was made from alder, whereas Dean’s is made of maple. I thought it was interesting to note that item 494 still had pieces of leather attached to the wood with iron nails, but probably not from shoes. It appears that there was an attempt to build up the surface of the last using these pieces of leather, either from wear and tear from use or indeed from being a little axe-happy in the initial shaping of the last.
Dean’s replica in maple wood.
Woollen needlebound (nalbound) socks in York/Coppergate stitch. Based on item 1309 from 16-22 Coppergate (Period 4B.)
One of the most famous surviving textiles of Viking Age Britain: the York sock! For many readers, it will need no introduction. For those who are not familiar with it, I’ll briefly explain what needlebinding (or nalebinding or naalbinding) is and quite why this sock is so special.
Illustration from Walton (1989), pp. 342.
Needlebinding is a technique for making cloth that only uses a single needle and lengths of yarn that have to be added as you go. It’s an ancient technique with examples being found dating back to the 3rd or 4th century AD in Sweden (though it could even have been practiced as far back as the Neolithic.) (Walton, 1989.) There are many different needlebinding stitches and each results in a slightly different texture, pattern, density and level of elasticity. Something that all needlebinding has in common is that it doesn’t unravel, unlike knitting or crochet.
At the time of its discovery, the York sock was the only example of needlebinding found in England. York/Coppergate stitch, the stitch the sock is worked in, was named after the sock and is described in needlebinding terminology as uu/ooo F2. The sock itself is in pretty good condition, with most of its structure remaining. It was made up of undyed S2Z plied wool yarn with a narrow band at the top of the sock being dyed with madder.
In my reconstruction, I chose to use a Shetland sock weight yarn from Highfield Textiles, a local wool producer from East Yorkshire. I hand-dyed the same yarn for the ankle band using madder, which resulted in a lovely rich orange-red. Like the original, my socks are slipper-style and don’t reach above the ankle. York stitch is also super stretchy, so when taken off, they tend to curl up- you can see this in the photos!
Footed short hose, inspired by various historical finds and fragment 1303 (Period 4B.)
The shape of these short hose is entirely speculative. Thunem (2018) gave a comprehensive overview of the topic of socks and hose in the Early Medieval period, which I highly recommend for further information. I made my first pair of these hose during the pandemic in a Zoom class taught by Astri Bryde and this pair is my second (with some alterations to improve personal fit.) As they are cut straight on the bias, they are not stretchy and so are not as tightly-tailored as later Medieval hose.
They’re inspired by earlier finds like the 2nd century stockings from Martres-de-Veyres, later finds like the 14th century Bocksten footed hose and of course the VA fragments from Haithabu Harbour. They’re made in two pieces, a long leg piece and a curved foot piece with the seam going under the foot (like the Skjoldehamn socks!) You might think that this would be uncomfortable, but it’s really not that noticeable and definitely not uncomfortable.
Diagram of fragment 1303, with weaving fault marked by an arrow. (Walton, 1989. pp.324.)
I chose to make these hose from a woven British tweed cloth, inspired by fragment 1303 from Coppergate. This fragment of 2/2 chevron twill was found in association with the naalbound York sock 1309. It is described in Walton (1989) as:
“Fragment, 140 x 60mm, of 2/2 chevron twill with dark combed warp and lighter non-combed weft, and selvedge. (…) Warp hairy fleece type, naturally pigmented, weft hairy medium fleece type, not pigmented. No dye detected. The softer weft has become heavily matted in places. The side of the fragment opposite the selvedge has been cut, there are two overstitches, possibly part of a hem at right-angles to the selvedge: sewing yarn plied wool, S2Z (…)”
Fabric woven in two shades is uncommon in the Viking Age generally, not just in York. Using two different shades for the warp and weft will make the pattern “pop” in a way that is less obvious when using one colour of yarn. Walton (1989) identifies 1303’s similarity to a fragment from Haithabu (thought to be a pair of hose!) and the lack of similar English finds lead her to conclude that 1303 was a foreign import. This idea is supported by the fact that 1303 was found in association with the York sock, also thought to be either a Scandinavian import or the handiwork of a Scandinavian settler.
I find it interesting that matting is mentioned, as I’ve only worn these hose twice and yet matting is visible underfoot and a little underneath the ties at the knee. This is to be expected with the friction, warmth and slight damp that comes with items worn on the feet.
Detail of ties.
The ties I used to hold up the hose were made in a hurry- they are thin braided cords made from fine naturally-pigmented brown wool yarn. Similar cords are found in 10th century levels at Coppergate, however they are generally cabled rather than plaited. Woven or tablet woven garters like the ones worn with later Medieval hose might well be another option in future.
The whole ensemble
Overall, I found this collection of garments comfortable and functional to wear. On both occasions, it was cold winter weather and provided I didn’t take them off to film a reel for Instagram (ahem), my feet were kept dry and well-insulated. I have worn the hose with socks underneath and without and naturally the combination was warmer. The seam underneath the sole of the foot did not affect my comfort and the hose didn’t slip down my leg once tied at the knee.
Being made to fit my feet, my shoes are extremely cosy and supportive. They are of course more comfortable on grass and earth than on concrete, but that is the case for all turnshoes. I am really won over by toggled shoes that fasten on the instep- I already have a pair with ties round the angles and these are just as comfy with a cooler silhouette.
If you’d like to see how this footwear looks as part of a complete outfit and also how they are put on, I made a Get Ready With Me video that features them on my Instagram.
Maybe she’s born with it? Maybe it’s Coppergate…
References
MacGregor, A. (1978). Industry and commerce in Anglo-Scandinavian York. In: Hall, R. A. (Ed). Viking Age York and the North. York: Council for British Archaeology. pp.37-57.
MacGregor, A. (1982). Anglo-Scandinavian Finds from Lloyds Bank, Pavement, and Other Sites. York: York Archaeological Trust. pp.144-145.
Mould, Q., Carlisle, I. and Cameron, E. (2003). Leather and Leatherworking in Anglo-Scandinavian and Medieval York. York: York Archaeological Trust. pp.3185-3535.
Location: Coppergate, Jorvík (York), England. Date: 930-975AD (Periods 4B and 5A.) Culture: Anglo-Scandinavian. Estimated Social Status: Affluent urban freewoman.
This impression combines replicas of some of my favourite items found in the 10th century levels of 16-22 Coppergate. When combining them, I envisioned the daily life of someone living there and what she might wear day-to-day. As you can see, I thought there was nowhere better to photograph this impression than on Coppergate itself.
This, like all my impressions, is a continual work in progress- you can always improve and add to what you have. I’ve got household goods, personal grooming equipment and textile-working tools that would fit within this impression- they will feature in their own articles rather than making this one even longer!
That being said, I feel like this article shows several different ways the fragments and artefacts I have chosen could be pieced together to make a plausible outfit: to be dressed up or down as needed by its owner.
All photographs of me are taken by Sarah Murray. Photographs of the original finds are my own unless otherwise stated, illustrations or other images from archaeological publications are shared for educational purposes.
Zoomorphic bone pin. Item no. 6811, period 4B (c.930-975AD.)
MacGregor, Mainman & Rogers (1999.) p. 1948.
This is described in MacGregor, Mainman and Rogers (1999) as being a “classic Viking Age type” of pin, with a toothy grinning beast atop it. It’s quite short at just over 11cm long and with no hole drilled through it, it would make a poor cloak pin. I chose to use mine as a hairpin and it works fairly well, though I am very precious with it. My replica is a pretty close one (albeit missing a funny little asymmetrical design on the shank) and was made for me by commission by my friend Peter Merrett.
Regarding my hairstyle, it is a really simple braid wound into a bun and secured with my pin and a fine wool braid (dyed with madder to match my dress.) I didn’t base it on anything, it is just an easy way to keep it out of my face without any modern pins or elastics. Amusingly, a friend pointed out how similar my hair looked to a disembodied bun found in the grave of a late Roman lady from York (now kept on the Yorkshire Museum, just upstairs from the Viking items!)
Wool dress in 2/2 diamond twill, dyed with madder. Inspired by fragment 1308, period 4B.
Walton (1989) describes fragment 1308 as follows:
“Tattered fragments, largest c.40x30mm, of reddish 2/2 diamond twill, (…) Dyed with madder. See also 1301.”
1301 is a “red non-reversed 2/2 twill” also dyed with madder. It was suggested that they could have been part of the same cloth originally, though I’m not sure if this implies that maybe one of the two different weaves was in fact a weaving fault. I chose to make my dress out of the diamond twill, a weave found elsewhere in the late Anglo-Scandinavian period at York (Tweddle, D. 1986)
It is interesting to note that 1301 and 1308 were also found in conjunction with another cloth, this time a mineralised grey tabby thought to be vegetable fibre, 1330. If it was indeed a vegetable fibre cloth like linen, hemp or nettle: could this represent an undershirt/dress? I usually wear a simple underkirtle made of linen tabby, but I foolishly chose not to on the hot day we took photos. This made quick costume changes a bit challenging.
In terms of pattern, I kept it very simple. I made a slim-fitting skirted dress with side gores from the waist, underarm gores for movement and a keyhole neckline. The tunics from Skjoldehamn, Moselund and Kragelund (dated to late 10th-early 11thC) all feature similar constructions with mostly rectangular bodies and triangular gores to add width and shape. English sources show ankle-length dresses fitting this silhouette on all female figures. My dress is handsewn using a mixture of madder-dyed wool thread and fine linen thread.
Glass bead necklace. Based on item no. 10350 and a selection of small beads found in 16-22 Coppergate, period 4B.
Mainman & Rogers (2000) p.2594.
289 glass beads and fragments were found in Coppergate. This necklace is a creation of my own design, using a combination of beads found commonly in 16-22 Coppergate. The centre piece is a glass bead based on item no. 10350, described as a “barrel-shaped glass bead. Very dark, appearing black, decorated with green blobs surrounded by a red circle with yellow lines through” (Mainman & Rogers, 2000.) The original measured 14.5mm in diameter. My reproduction is a little more rounded than the original.
The other beads are small monochrome globular glass beads in shades of yellow, green and black. Along with blue, these are the most common colours of globular beads found in Coppergate in period 4B, with the most popular types of beads numerically being Globular (Type 2), Cylindrical (Type 3) or Segmented (Type 7.) Only 10 percent of the beads found in York were polychrome, so I wanted monochrome beads make up most of my necklace. I struggled to get appropriate segmented beads of the type I wanted, so for now I chose to make a necklace using only globular beads. These are all from Tillerman Beads and threaded on a string of linen thread.
Copper alloy ansate brooch. Item no. 10426, period 4B.
Mainman & Rogers (2000.) p. 2570.
Item 10426 is described as follows:
“Equal-armed bow brooch of the ‘caterpillar’ type, with a subrectangular bow with unexpanded subsquare terminals with indented edges. The catch-plate, attachment plate and part of the pin survive on the reverse. The upper faces of the terminals are decorated with incised lines, and the bow with mouldings.” (Mainman & Rogers, 2000.)
I hadn’t seen this type of brooch before and was very surprised to see it dated to the mid tenth century, as it looked alien to me. Apparently, it used to be believed that ansate brooches were most popular between the 7th and 9th centuries, but several finds in York, London and Lincolnshire indicate that they stayed in use until the 10th century.
I’m a sucker for novelty and vintage fashion, so I relished the opportunity for an alternative to the disc brooch. My replica is from Asgard.
Copper alloy toiletry set with glass bead. Item no. 10531, period 5B (c.975- mid 11thC.)
Mainman & Rogers (2000.) p. 2600.
This object is a bit cheeky and I will be replacing it in the future. I included it in my photo set without double-checking date and so despite kicking myself now, here it is. 10531 is a copper alloy toiletry set, with a set of little tweezers set on a twisted suspension ring.
It dates to period 5B, which is approximately 975AD to the early to mid 11th century. The lower end of this scale fits the end of my goal period, but it’s not close enough really. Thankfully, there is a similar pair found on site that dates to period 5A (the same as my silk cap) which is specifically 975AD.
Mainman & Rogers (2000.) p. 2600.
You can also see a peek of what I’m up to here- with my bone needle, I’m making the York sock! It will be the subject of its own article soon, so please don’t think that I forgot the iconic naalbound sock (I could never.)
Silk cap. Item no. 1372, period 5A (c.975)
This cap is a replica of the most complete of several potential silk caps found in VA York, item no. 1372. With the exception of one fragment, they are all believed to be made of undyed silk imported from Iran. (Walton, 1989.) Of course, this would be a very expensive status symbol to own and we can imagine that the original owners would have been proud of them. Similar caps have been found in Lincoln and Dublin, with the latter providing caps made from both wool and silk. (Wincott-Heckett, 2003.)
I made my cap exactly to the measurements of the original, now kept in the Yorkshire Museum. This included placing the linen ties (not extant but indicated by stitch holes and pull marks) about halfway up the front edge of the cap- this didn’t fit me especially well.
It’s my personal opinion that this cap was originally made for an adult, with the ties being added higher up on the cap to alter it for a child’s use. Reuse of caps like this can be seen among the Dublin and York examples alike, with holes and tears being lovingly repaired to extend their use. I think with my next cap, I’ll make it to the same dimensions but attach my ties a little lower at chin level. I think I’ll alter the curve at the crown too, I made it as close as possible to the original measurements but it simply doesn’t fit my head as well as it could.
Bone weaving tablet (item no. 6679) and silk tablet woven braid (item no. 1340.) Both period 4B.
MacGregor, Mainmain and Rogers (1999.) p. 1969.
Firstly, we have a set of bone tablets based on a single example found in Tenement C, 16-22 Coppergate. It’s a very thin bone plate that is almost but not quite square: 27x24mm in dimension. My set is a little more evenly square, but that’s actually better for tablet weaving so I’m not too upset about it.
Weaving tablets from the Viking Age usually tend to be made from wood or bone, however, the average tablet is bigger than the York example at 30-40mm square. MacGregor, Mainman and Rogers (1999) suggest that the dainty nature of item 6679 means it was used for weaving fine silk braids, like the one found contemporarily on Coppergate (1340.)
Walton, P. (1989.) p. 382.
I’ve already written an article on the silk and linen tablet woven band, that you can read here. In short, the original fragment was a tangled length of silk (1.47m) with a knot at one end. A few inches show evidence of having been woven with tablets, with gaps being left in the pattern that it is believed was filled with vegetable fibre, like linen.
Chemical analysis of the fibres indicated that some were dyed with madder and woad, with others only madder or no dye detected. In my recreation, I interpreted the undyed silk as being golden yellow in colour- this was based on a belief on my part that undyed silk would have been golden in period. This came from Walton’s (1989) quoting from an Old English leechbook, describing a jaundiced patient as ageolwað swa god seoluc “yellow as good silk.” If I made another version of this band, I would replace the yellow silk in the border with white or cream silk instead.
White veil in undyed 2/2 twill wool. Inspired by item no. 1300, period 4B.
This alleyway beside the Jorvik Viking Centre had beautiful natural lighting, but was filled with rubbish and leaves. I figured that this was pretty accurate for a Viking street.
My wool veil is mostly inspired in cut by contemporary English art from the 10th century. Women are almost exclusively depicted as veiled, with the only rare exceptions being sinners in religious texts (Lot’s daughters are seen with their heads uncovered, but even they are shown veiled before they sin.)
I chose a light soft wool veil like the fabrics used in the Dublin caps and scarves (Wincott-Heckett, 2003) but unlike the Dublin examples, my scarf is a 2/2 twill, not a tabby. I aim to rectify this in the future, but for now, I feel that the length and drape of my scarf matches the period depictions and 2/2 twill is a commonly found weave in Anglo-Scandinavian York.
This is a little earlier than my general timeline, but I thought it would be a fun thing to include. A panther cowrie shell found in early 10th century levels on Coppergate (11163) must have been brought by traders from abroad, as they are native to the Red Sea area. The original showed signs of saw marks, suggesting that it may have been used in the production of jewellery or ornamentation (Hall & Kenward, 2004.)
My cowrie is whole and shiny, I plan on keeping it that way. However, I am intrigued by the idea of jewellery featuring cut shell- I don’t know of any such jewellery found in York so far!
Low cut shoes. Item no. 15358, period 4B.
My stand-in shoes, based on a find from Hedeby and similar in cut to Style 2 shoes with a centre front seam. I made my socks, they are Oslo stitch and will be replaced by my Coppergate socks. Like the Coppergate sock, they are made of undyed wool.The treacherous articles themselves, mocking me.
I was supposed to have a pair of very simple slip-on shoes made by a lovely friend, based on several pairs of shoes of Style 2. And get them I did- but they do not fit. Harrumph.
Mould, Q., Carlisle, I. & Cameron, E. (2003.) p.3286
Style 2 is described as “low cut, slip on shoes with a seam at centre back” and they were found in copious amounts in York (Mould, Carlisle & Cameron, 2003.) Shoes of this style have also been found in London, Dublin and Hedeby. The York examples were constructed in a fairly standard way but variations exist, with decorative bands being added around the throat, tooling on the heel risers and the uppers being pieced using several pieces of leather.
As a style, this shoe saw popularity in York from Period 3 (mid 9thC-early 10thC) all the way until Period 5B (c.975- mid 11thC.) Interestingly, finds sharply decline to only 1 pair after the mid 11th century: coinciding with the Norman Conquest. Why didn’t the Normans like these cute shoes? We may never know. Perhaps, like me, they couldn’t get a pair to fit!
Mantle. Inspired by fragment 1308, period 4B (c.930-975AD.)
For my mantle, I used another 2/2 diamond twill wool dyed with madder, based on the same fragments that inspired my dress. While it is dyed with the same dyestuff, it is a different shade. I bought this lovely fabric from one of my favourite cloth sellers, A Selyem Turul from the Netherlands.
I drew up the pattern myself as it is quite simple, using several late English illuminations as a guide for the drape and silhouette. Towards the end of the Viking Age in England, mantles of this type replace cloaks increasingly on female figures in English art. I imagine that an affluent citydweller in a cosmopolitan place like York might seek to keep up with the fashion of the English elite by swapping her cloak for a closed garment like this.
Just a small selection of images compiled by me, many more examples exist. Many English sources can be seen in full online on the British Library website, the other sources can be found here.
Of course, a cloak could be just as appropriate for an impression like this- the archaeological record from the Anglo-Scandinavian period has left us a wonderful array of of cloak pins to choose from, as well as heavier textile fragments believed to belong to cloaks or overgarments.
An improvement I would incorporate for my next mantle would be to make the neckline smaller- I did not realise how much it would stretch!
Christianity in Anglo-Scandinavian York
I wanted to represent an aspect of daily life that likely would have been as meaningful to people in the 10th century as it is to people today- faith. York was already well-stocked with churches long before the Scandinavians arrived, though only traces of these early buildings survive today.
I tried to think of my York woman’s calendar and schedule: what would she have spent her time doing? Probably much the same as me: working, doing household chores, shopping, visiting with friends and relatives. Church on a Sunday? I was raised Christian, but don’t attend services regularly. I do however find quiet time to be alone with my thoughts vital. The peaceful surrounds of old stone and silence found in historical buildings is relaxing and comforting. Did early Christians feel the same way?
I wanted to take some photographs inside a church only a stone’s throw away from Coppergate- All Saints Pavement. The current building dates to the late Medieval period, but it is believed that an earlier church and burial ground existed on the site by the 10th century. This could very likely have been my York woman’s local church.
A tiny yet beautiful grave cover was found during excavations at All Saints in the 1960s, dated to the 10th century and probably belonging to a child. Every time I see it, I take a moment to stop and spare a thought for who it belonged to and who they might have become, had they lived. Their passing must have been an enormous loss to their family, who chose to honour their little life by laying them to rest somewhere familiar with a gorgeous carved gravestone covered in sprawling interlaced beasts.
(I feel it’s very important to note that to my knowledge, there are no human remains buried underneath the 10th century grave cover. However, there are other remains buried in All Saints Pavement and it continues to be an active, consecrated place of worship. Sarah and I were quiet and respectful during the entirety of our visit.)
Religion in the Viking Age is a gargantuan topic and one I would be happy to tackle in its own article, should there be interest. I already have several projects on the go that involve churches in York- you’ll just have to watch this space.
Hall, R. (1984) The Viking Dig. London: The Bodley Head Ltd.
Hall, A. & Kenward, H. (2004). Setting People in their Environment: Plant and Animal Remains from Anglo-Scandinavian York. In: Hall, R. A. (Ed). Aspects of Anglo-Scandinavian York. York: Council for British Archaeology. p.419.
MacGregor, A., Mainman, A. J. and Rogers, N. S. H. (1999) Bone, Antler, Ivory and Horn from Anglo-Scandinavian and Medieval York. London: Council for British Archaeology. pp.1948-1949.
Mainman, A. J. & Rogers, N. S. H. (2000) Craft, Industry and Everyday Life: Finds from Anglo-Scandinavian York. York: Council for British Archaeology. p2451-2671.
Tweddle, D. (1986) Finds from Parliament Street and Other Sites in the City Centre. London: Council for British Archaeology. pp.232-234.
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.
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.
Location: Jorvík (York), England Date: Mid to late 10th Century Culture: Anglo Scandinavian Estimated Social Class: Middle, wealthy urban
This will hopefully be the first of several speculative York impressions, built to showcase various artefacts and show how they potentially could have been worn/used in their day. It is not based on a grave nor is it to be taken as absolutely representative of the fashion of the place and time. My aim is to show a sensible and plausible outfit based on contemporary artefacts unearthed across York and give context to those remains and fragments.
Excuse my modern garden backgrounds, my 10th century longhouse was in the wash.
Starting from top to bottom:
Headscarf
My veil is a plain weave, pale blue wool scarf. It is not naturally dyed, but in shade it closely mimicks woad. Women are almost exclusively portrayed veiled in Early Medieval English art, yet few examples of such veils are represented in the archaeological record. Fine woollen scarves with tassels have been found in Dublin, dating to the early 10th to mid 11th centuries (Wincott Heckett, 2003, pp.9-43). My veil is closer in size to the larger examples found at VA Dublin, such as the silk scarf DHC17 from Fishamble Street (dated to the early 11th century) but matches most closely with contemporary English manuscript depictions in size.
I wear this scarf several different ways even within the same day, tossing the ends over my shoulders as and when it’s required. The weather was balmy when I took these photos, so pins and a fillet weren’t needed. On windier days or if I’m feeling a little more haughty and austere, I’ll pin my veil onto a cap worn underneath and sometimes a fillet. Period variation in wimple/veil style is supported by English manuscript depictions, which show several different styles were worn. Presumably this was down to preference, though of course it could be an indicator of class or piety.
I could talk all day long about headcoverings, suffice to say that I will cover them in greater detail in a future post if people wish.
Necklace of amber and jet
The whole necklace, threaded on a fine leather thonging. One of the triangular amber pendants.
My necklace is made up of amber and jet, based on pendants and beads found at 16-22 Coppergate and other nearby sites. Extensive evidence for amber working in York was found at Clifford Street and 16-22 Coppergate, with fragments also being found at 22 Piccadilly and elsewhere on the Coppergate site (Mainman and Rogers, 2000). The wedge-shaped pendants I used are a little more rounded than the originals, but they can be replaced as and when I find a gemologist who will make me a more accurate replica. 😁 Many of the amber beads and pendants found at 16-22 Coppergate were dated to period 4B (c.930/5-c.975 AD.)
Found in (Mainman and Rogers, 2000, p.2507)Found in (Mainman and Rogers, 2000, p.2589.)
The evidence for jet working at 16-22 Coppergate is definite, whether or not that evidence belongs to the Anglo-Scandinavian period is a subject of debate. Some items were found in Anglo-Scandinavian levels, but it has been argued that they were Roman items that ended up deposited in later levels through the passage of time. It does however remain possible that some of these jet items were indeed stratified correctly and I am working with that assumption.
The beads I used for my necklace are Whitby jet, dating to the late Victorian or early Edwardian period. They’d been reassembled into a new modern necklace, so I liberated them and used them for this project. Like their amber brethren, they are not perfect- they’re a little too spherical and neat. The jet finds from York consist of finger rings, bracelets, gaming pieces, pendants and manufacturing evidence (Mainman and Rogers, 2000). There was also an item identified as a bead (dated to the 5A period, approx 975 AD) but unfortunately it was stolen. I have included my beads in this impression based on the semi-worked fragments, the lost bead and the similar beads found in glass, amber and other materials.
Dress
The flower I am playing with is from my immortal woad plant, which is busy taking over my poor mum’s raised bed. I am pretending to be sorry about that.
My dress is made of a 2/2 chevron (herringbone) twill wool. I’ve dyed lots of wool blue using woad, but not this wool- it is chemically-dyed mimicking shades of a natural woad vat. It is handsewn by me with wool and linen thread. Textile fragments of broken chevron twill dyed with indigotin (the blue colour compound found in woad) were found at Coppergate, item number 1302 (Walton, 1989). The material was dated to period 4B, indicating a date of c.930/5-c.975 AD. It is described it thus:
“Fragments, largest 140 x 100mm, of mid brown 2/2 chevron twill, 8/Z/0.9 x 5-6/S/1.2 (Fig.134a). Yarn soft and unevenly spun. Fleece type, Z medium, S hairy. Dyed with indigotin. Hard concretions containing cess-like material adhere to parts of the textile.” (Walton, 1989)
In all the surviving textiles from Anglo-Scandinavian Jorvík, woad is represented but it is not the most common dyestuff. Madder- and bedstraw-dyed fragments are the most numerous by leaps and bounds, which indicates a distinctly English taste in Anglo Scandinavian York (I’ll discuss this at more length in a future article.) Woad however certainly did feature in the clothing of Jorvík city dwellers and I just so happened to have some suitable fabric leftover from a dress made for a dear friend many moons ago. Being a Yorkshire lass through and through, regardless of the century, I was using it.
No complete or near-complete garments have survived from Jorvík apart from the famous sock and several head-coverings. I therefore kept the pattern of my dress and undertunic as generic as possible. Women in contemporary English art are always shown wearing ankle length, long-sleeved garments, usually with some indication of skirted construction. It is believed that this might have been the case in Scandinavia too, with women in contemporary art there usually being shown to wear garments that are at least longer than men’s (Ewing, 2007).
An Anglo-Scandinavian cross fragment from All Saints Church in Weston (North Yorkshire), dated to the 9th century. It is believed to show a warrior with a female captive and be a reworking of an original Anglian cross. Source.
Towards the end of the Viking Age in England, the sleeves on women’s overgarments appear to have grown wider, with tight-sleeeved garments being seen peeking from underneath them. I kept the sleeves on my dress relatively close to the arm so it would be more suitable for earlier impressions, with the opportunity to dress it up later with the simple addition of a mantle or baggier-sleeved overdress.
It is also prudent to note that almost all of the women portrayed in contemporary English art were very high in social status or were religious figures. They represent an ideal of the most aristocratic and modest women, not the daughters and wives of merchants (even wealthy ones) who might have walked through Coppergate. So, my York lady may well have worn her dresses with baggier sleeves on special occasions but likely not to go to the market.
Details from various 10-11th century sources: Top left- Folio 10 of the Old English Illustrated Hexateuch, 11thC English. Top middle- Luxoria from Prudentius’ Psychomachia, late 10thC English. Top right- Detail of supplicants from the Benedictional of St Aethelwold, late 10thC English. Bottom left: Detail of Queen Emma from the New Minster Liber Vitae, 1031 AD English. Bottom middle left- Detail from the Bayeux Tapestry, late 11thC English (suspected.) Bottom middle right- Patentia also from Prudentius’ Psychomachia. Bottom right: Mary also from the New Minster Liber Vitae. Source.
Surviving remains of skirted tunics such as the Skjoldehamn, Haithabu and later Herjolfsnes finds show examples of how these women’s garments in the Viking Age could have been constructed. Due to cloth constraints and to better fit my body, I opted for bottle-shaped side gores starting at my underarm. This construction provided the correct period silhouette while remaining comfortable.
My undertunic (or serk) was made in a similar pattern, only in undyed linen with a plain round neckline and triangular gores.
Over my dress, I wear a belt of dyed bone buckle. This is an unusual item, currently kept in the Yorkshire Museum. The museum lists it only as Anglo-Scandinavian and dating to between 866 and 1066. It is generally believed that Early Medieval women did not wear leather belts, either opting for textile belts that have rotted away since or foregoing belts altogether.
However, a 10th century grave of a woman in Cumwhitton (Cumbria) has challenged this assumption. One of the female graves contained a belt buckle and strap end, both made of copper alloy (Paterson, Parsons, Newman, Johnson & Howard Davis, 2014). I am fond of the York dyed buckle and since it was not found in a grave context, I feel comfortable including a leather belt as part of a wealthy female impression.
An interesting discussion of belt hardware surviving in female graves can be found in the bibliography. My replica of the belt and buckle was made by Sándor Tar on Facebook.
Leather turnshoes
Type 4a3 leather turnshoes.
On my feet, I wear leather shoes, based on the Style 4a3. They are of a turnshoe construction and made of vegetable tanned leather. This pair was made by Torvald’s Leather Workshop.
Shoes of Style 4a3 have been found at 16-22 Coppergate from the earliest layers of occupation (mid-late 9th century at the earliest) throughout the whole Anglo-Scandinavian period, but finds of this type are most numerous in the mid 10th century layers (Mould, Carlisle and Cameron, 2003). Shoes of this style were also found at nearby Hungate and fragments indicating this style have been found in Oxford also.
Style 4a3 shoes, image from Mould, Carlisle and Cameron, 2003, p.3306.
I love this style of shoe, I think they’re really cute and so evocative in their style of Viking Age fashion itself. The only problem? The pair I have have the flaps on the wrong side of the foot! A large group of the shoes found in Jorvík had flaps and toggles over the instep- fastening on the inside of the foot, not the outside. Mould, Carlisle and Cameron (2003) even acknowledge that it seems like toggles on the outside of the foot would be more practical, but I found the opposite to be the case when actually putting them on. I’m aiming to replace these shoes in the future with ones closer to the originals, but they are gorgeous nevertheless and being handmade they are very comfortable.
Underneath these shoes, I wore a pair of woollen naalbound socks, loosely based on the Coppergate socks. However, they have graciously served me for several years now in all weathers and are not fit to be seen. I will certainly cover the mighty Coppergate sock in the future though.
Who might have worn this?
The wife or daughter of a wealthy urban merchant perhaps, someone who had the cash spare to afford dyed garments such as my dress and scarf. Worked amber and jet beads too would likely have been status items, with amber being imported from abroad from the Roman period.
It is also possible that a wealthy woman from more rural areas could wear an outfit like this, the wife of a rich farmer perhaps. This is not the kind of clothing one wears during the working day however, so it would be relegated to Sunday best or feasting clothing (I suspect that this would also be the case for an urban woman.)
References
Ewing, T. (2007) Viking Clothing. Stroud: Tempus Publishing. p9-70.
Mainman, A. J. & Rogers, N. S. H. (2000). Craft, Industry and Everyday Life: Finds from Anglo-Scandinavian York. York: Council for British Archaeology. p2451-2671.
Mould, Q., Carlisle, I. & Cameron, E (2003). Craft, Industry and Everyday Life: Leather and Leatherworking in Anglo-Scandinavian and Medieval York. York: Council for British Archaeology. p3306-3310.
Paterson, C., Parsons, A. J, Newman, R. M, Johnson, N & Howard Davis, C. (2014) Shadows in the Sand: Excavation of a Viking-age cemetery at Cumwhitton, Cumbria. Oxford: Oxford Archaeology North.
Walton, P (1989). Textiles, Cordage and Raw Fibre from 16-22 Coppergate . York: Council for British Archaeology. p285-474
Wincott Heckett, E (2003). Viking Age Headcoverings from Dublin. Dublin: Royal Irish Academy. p9-43.
The Eoforwic Project 