Irish Garb Part 3
Early Medieval Irish Garb Part 3: The Tunic
To read about sources about Irish garb, see Irish Garb: Part 1. To read about materials, colors and decoration, see Irish Garb: Part 2.
Uniquely Irish Style
Irish clothing varied, depending on the gender, profession and status of the wearer. They had long tunics, short tunics, sleeveless vests, long-sleeved coats, short pants, long pants and (most famously) shaggy cloaks, not to mention shoes and boots, all of which varied in quality and material according to status.
The most basic, unisex item in this period, however, was a loose-fitting tunic with sleeves, called the léine (1). Although it varied by length, color and material, some version of this tunic is appropriate attire for almost every Irish man or woman from the Iron Age through the Norman Conquest.
NB: the plural form is usually written as lénte or leni. However, spelling in Old Irish is quite variable from one manuscript to another, so many versions of these same words appear in the written records.
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| MS 13B VIII f.23v |
This tunic, or léine, made from a single layer of linen with neither under-clothes nor over-dress required, was often deemed 'barbaric' by foreigners who expected certain standards of dress. It may help to remember that the early Irish had no taboo about nudity and were less squeamish about such things than their Continental counterparts. In certain Irish artwork it is apparent that the léine might be quite sheer, if the fabric were fine enough, and that nothing was worn under it. This does not seem to have scandalized the native Irish, but it may pose challenges for modern reenactors trying to look authentic.
The single-layer, simple garment probably evolved from something similar to the chiton: a pair of rectangular pieces of fabric, or else a tube sewn of one large rectangle of fabric, pinned at the shoulders with fibulae or dress fasteners. Such a tunic may have included a draped fold of fabric in the back, which could be pulled up to cover the head in rain or to provide shade from the sun. Over time, this seems to have morphed into a tunic with sleeves, sometimes with the head-covering still attached, now shaped into a hood. Having long sleeves protected vulnerable skin from sunburn, while maintaining mobility; shaping the hood made it less prone to slipping back off the head. Otherwise, this tunic may have varied only slightly over many centuries (shorter, longer, with short or long sleeves, with or without hoods, varying in color and decoration, but unchanged in essentials).
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| Shrine of Maedhoc |
This simple but versatile garment suited the Irish climate very well. Linen cools the body (it conducts heat, both wet and dry) and so the long-sleeves and hood actually provided a natural cooling in warm weather, while also protecting the wearer from sun, wind and mist or light rain. It does not end up excessively heavy when wet, as wool does. Given the mild, warm weather that Ireland experienced during most of this period, with frequent short bursts of rain, the tunic was a very practical all-weather garment. In cold weather, the addition of a wool coat and a wool shag cloak kept the wearer warm, but these heavy items could easily be shed during the heat of the day. These traits were less important in dryer, more predictable climates elsewhere in Europe, where layers evolved that were more challenging to remove (chemises, overdresses and tightly tailored garments take time to don and doff).
The Irish clearly knew of the styles worn by other cultures (from visitors and their own extensive travels abroad), and they pointed them out as distinct from their own garb, usually with the modifier, gall-, or 'foreign.'
For head-coverings, for instance, the Irish term for a hood attached to a cloak, jacket or outerwear is cochall. This became Gall cochal when referring to the Norse hood, which was a separate article of outerwear that covered just the head and shoulders. The word for hat, att, was often paired with the prefix gall- as well (suggesting that the Irish viewed most hats as foreign garb). Meanwhile, the Irish term for any hood attached to a tunic is culpait, and this word is never used to refer to foreign dress. A veil was called a caille, while a draped head-covering or a monk's cowl was called a folach. Clearly the Irish understood the differing types of headcoverings available, and used distinct terms for different styles, deliberately.
Traits of the Léine:
The léine is most commonly described as made of linen, when the fiber content of the tunic is mentioned at all. The word derives from the Irish name for flax linen: lín. As mentioned above, this was worn against the skin, without an underlayer required. Wealthy Irish nobles had access to finer textiles than the lower-status Irish, and so this linen might have been very fine indeed, or coarser, depending on the wearer. Poorer Irish may have worn wool versions of the léine, if they could not afford linen.
The léine would most likely have been undyed (beige/dun/greyish), or bleached white, in most cases. The hard, impenetrable fibers of linen do not readily absorb dyestuffs, even when using modern chemicals, making it a challenge to dye. Linen also sunbleaches very readily, a trait that medieval Europeans took advantage of in drying laundry, but which is hard on colors.
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| MS 13B VIII f.30r |
When not white, the next most likely color for linen would have been blue. Woad attaches to the outer coating of the fiber, allowing the dye to remain on linen threads when other dyes would fade or wash out. Blue is a popular color in the Irish heroic tales as well, and supported by linen textile finds in Scandinavian graves that have been tested to confirm woad or indigo dye presence.
New studies are beginning to prove that madder, also, could successfully dye linen. Evidence supports this use of madder on linen in European and Egyptian contexts, though nothing as yet from Ireland. As mentioned in previous posts, very little archaeological evidence remains for linen fabric, thanks to differential fiber survival (2). Experimental archeology conducted by Michelle LaBerge in 2018 shows the colors resulting from madder dye on linen (various tests with no mordant, or alum, or iron, and with varying times, temperatures, and pH adjustments) were not true red, but various gentler shades of purple, maroon, crimson and pink. These are visually quite different from the deep scarlets and reds from madder on wool, because, “although linen and other plant fibers take indigo dye from woad well... linen is notoriously difficult to dye with madder” (3).
Another dye that may have been used on linen came from the dog whelk, which produced deep purple hues (and a range of teals and pinks from secondary uses of the dye bath), but this locally-produced dye was so valuable that few could have afforded it.
Pictorial evidence from insular artwork supports this range of colors. Of roughly 100 figures in the Book of Kells, over a third of them wear purple, reddish or burgundy-colored tunics, and more than a quarter wear blue tunics, with the remainder wearing brown, dun/grey, yellow, or green (where the tunic is distinguishable).
Length
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| Kells f. 285r: angels with long lente |
The léine could be worn short, but not shorter than knee-length; the “Triads of Ireland” specify that the tunic cannot be shorter than one bass (legal handsbreadth, based on the width of a palm) above the knee (4). Wearing it so short indicates a need to perform manual labor, associated with much lower status.
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| Cod. Sang. 51 p. 78: the Evangelist in an ankle-length red léine. |
For wealthier individuals, the léine was typically longer. For example,“in lebur-lenteac[h]” translates to, “clothed in/wearing a long tunic.” For noblemen, it seems to have been an ankle-length tunic before being belted—manuscripts and relief carvings show the decorated bottom hem reaching the floor or covering the ankles when the figures are seated, and just above the ankles when standing.
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| MS 13B VIII f. 19v a woman who seduced a pet goat |
Women appear to have worn the tunic so long that they could blouse it over their belts and still have it hang around ankle-length, if the depictions in Topographia Hiberniae (5) are accurate. Certainly Mary's tunic in the Book of Kells (f.7v) reaches her ankles while she is sitting down.
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| Kells f.7v The Madonna and Child: Mary's very fine, maybe pleated, purple linen léine, baby Jesus' gold and angels' blue lente, all ankle length. |
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| MS 13B VIII f. 19v: Joan, a silly girl who had routine bestial intercourse with a lion, shown wearing a long léine. |
Sleeves
By the time of written accounts in Ireland, the léine is worn with sleeves, to the degree that sleeves are assumed—a shocking tunic that is missing one sleeve appears in a ghost story: “léne co leth-muinchille imme” (6). (The word muinchillech refers to sleeves.) Most of the men and all of the women shown wearing clothes in carvings and manuscripts have long sleeves. Frequently the sleeves of the léine are only visible as a hem line, peeking out from below the long sleeves of their ionar, in these depictions. Those men who are shown wearing sleeveless outfits wear only the short, fighting-style inar, without tunics.
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| Kells f.114r two blue lente and one yellow léine, with one bratt each in blue, red, and yellow. The fold lines around the neckline on the far right léine may suggest a hood. |
The sleeves shown in all of the illuminated portrayals of human figures fit the forearms tightly, allowing them to fit inside the moderately tight sleeves of the ionar. Topographia Hiberniae shows sleeves with fitted forearms and very loose, baggy upper arms. When constructing an early Irish tunic, then, the sleeves should taper to a nice fit on the forearms, and not be worn too loose. The Irish also had a word for sleeve gussets, ascallán, suggesting that they understood how to tailor a sleeve for greater mobility (at least in the simple rectangles-and-traingles fashion commonly used by reenactors, based on finds such as the Bocksten Bog Man tunic).
Neckline
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| Kells f. 202v |
Based on depictions from the Book of Kells and other insular manuscripts, the léine could have a round/scoop neckline, a rectangular neckline, or a pentagonal neckline. The scoop-necklines are actually quite rare, comparatively. A rectangular neck hole with a flat front seems most common, with the front sometimes gathered or pleated, perhaps encased in tape or woven with trim.
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| Kells f.187v |
Second-most common is the pentagonal neckline, which may simply be a rectangular neckline that has been weighted by a brooch or some heavy pin hanging at the center of the flat front, perhaps closing a keyhole. Alternatively, this pentagonal appearance might be an artistic rendering of the opening of the hood, where it joins at the center. It is also possible that the Irish intentionally shaped their necklines with this v-shape in the front, though there are no mentions of it in writing, and many mentions of hoods.
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| Kells f.290v: an angel wearing a blue léine with a gathered scoop neck under a reddish ionar with purple trim. |
In Topographia Hiberniae, the tunics mostly have the pentagonal neckline—some with the suggestion of a circular or pennanular brooch at the center point in front of the neck, some with white highlight lines suggesting a hood, and some with hoods.
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| MS 13B VIII f. 26r showing the pentagonal neckline, perhaps with a brooch? |
Attached Hoods
The Irish referred to the attached hood as the culpait; a hooded tunic was called léine culpatach (plural = lénte culpatacha, although spelling varies). The hoods could be made of the same fabric as the rest of the tunic, or in some cases from another fabric, but they were in some way sewn to the neckline of the tunics. They could be worn down, or drawn up over the head (perhaps for shade, or to keep off inclement weather, such as the common Irish drizzle).
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| MS 13B VIII f.28v showing a light green léine with a possible hood, a brown léine with an obvious hood, and two lente without hoods, all worn with trews. |
Very few illuminations of the tunic with the hood exist; the clearest example comes from the Book of Kells, f.7v, The Madonna and Child. Here, the artist portrays Mary wearing a purple léine culpatach under a red brat, with a blue ionar and a gold caille. The hem of this purple léine reaches her ankles and may also faintly be seen at the ends of her sleeves. In the close-up of her face, one can see that the purple léine has a gathered neck-line with excess fabric either pleated or left to hang in folds from the gathers. On top of this gathering, a narrow embroidered strip covers the flat neckline. The hood meets this embroidered band and droops out in folds alongside her face, to disappear under her veil.
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| Kells f.7v The Madonna and Child: Mary's purple léine, gold caille, blue ionar and red bratt. |
In the Topographia, Giraldus gives a description of the culpait: “their custom is to wear small, close-fitting hoods, hanging below the shoulders a cubit's length, and generally made of parti-colored strips sewn together” (7). A cubit at the time would have measured about .443 meters or 18 inches, roughly the length of one's forearm. This matches experimental results very nicely, for a hood that hangs down one forearm length from the shoulders actually sits quite well on the head when it is raised, providing a drape that looks more like Mary's culpait than a shorter hood could. Giraldus' comment about strips of colored fabric sewn together also matches the evidence that most Irish textiles were dyed in the cloth, rather than woven in colored stripes (see the previous post).
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| Kells f.7v The Madonna and Child, close-up of the veil, hood and neckline (and a nice kite brooch) |
Wool textiles found in Viking Dublin have demonstrated the presence of tablet-woven edges (8) (the tubular weaving of trim edging to encase the fabric edges of a garment, such as the neckline or hem, or the sides of a purse) in Ireland at this time. While this is a potential technique to use for finishing the front of an Irish hood or neckline, it must be said that there is not yet any evidence showing native insular use of this method, although the presence and use of weaving tablets had long been established in Ireland before the Vikings arrived. Too few textiles have yet been analysed and published from insular contexts to know whether this was an Irish technique as well.
A survey of descriptive words in the eDIL associated with the hooded tunic:
- ...long hood: leburchulpatach
- ...bright-colored hood: gelculpatach
- ...nice/good hood: dagculpait
- ...valuable/precious/expensive hood: chlupait caeim
- ...nicely dyed/well-colored hood: culpaitib degdathach
- ...many colored hood: co dath-imdae culpatach
- ...white hood: co culpaitib glégelaib
- ...hood with a fringe: cona cimais cochaill do banór fria
- ...perforated (open weave?) hood: culpait tolla imma thóibu (toll also translates to leaky, pierced, or having a gapped edge)
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| Clonmacnois Cross |
In Togail Bruidne Da Derga (9), the three sons of Baithis of Britain wear white hoods attached to black mantles, with “cuirce derg for cech cenniud” (a red tuft on each hood). These tufts may be red-dyed knots of wool yarn, or possibly even silk tassels; perhaps they decorated the tip or point of the hood. In the same story, Derga himself is described as wearing a tunic “with a white hood and a red insertion” (10), which might mean that his white léine had a white hood with a red lining in the hood.
In the Togail Bruidne Da Choca (9), Cormac's three hundred men divide into three bands; the third band is described as wearing lenti culpatacha made of satin thread, with purple, five-folded mantles and gold and silver brooches. Later, Cormac and his men reach a river:
“When they were there, they saw a damsel, dear and shapely, coming towards them, a light green mantle folded round her. In the mantle, a precious brooch on her breasts. A smock bright-hooded, goldthreaden, next to her skin. Two blunt sandals of white bronze between her feet and the earth. An ornamented curch on her head.”
The exact phrase for her “bright-hooded” dress is “lene gelculpatach,” as opposed to the “lenti culpatacha” of Cormac's men. Since these are from the same passage, it seems reasonable to conclude that this demonstrates a hood itself of a bright color, distinct from the color of the rest of her léine. From these two examples, one may also note that the léine culpatach belonged neither to males or females exclusively, nor to one particular class, but was worn by both men and women, of varying ranks.
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| Kells 8r |
Finally, the translation of “curch” in this passage is uncertain, but it seems to be a derivative of the word for diadem, headpiece, helmet crest or caul—so she may be wearing a coronet, or diadem, a band, or simply a cloth veil with embroidered or beaded ornamentation, wrapped around her hood. This could be similar to tablet-woven headbands like those from Viking Dublin (11). Given that the portrait of Mary in the Book of Kells shows a fabric wrap covering her tunic's hood as a veil, it seems safe to assume that noble ladies and married women wore their veils over the top of the hood, draped around their shoulders for modesty and decoration.
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| Kells f.201v |
In conclusion, the Early Medieval Irish base layer was a fine-woven tunic, typically of linen for the upper classes, sometimes with an attached hood and always with sleeves (usually long sleeves). The léine could be dyed, usually blue or reddish-purple hues, and the hood could be another color or sewn of many colors, and potentially decorated with braid, fringe, woven trim, or embroidery. It was worn belted, ankle-length for women and lords, and around knee-length for working men. Pleats or folds or gathers are mentioned for higher-status tunics with more yardage of fabric, while poorer laborers likely wore simpler wool versions in less expensive colors.
Not a Saffron Shirt
Later-medieval-period reenactors often ask earlier-medieval-period reenactors when the saffron tunic first appeared in Ireland. Sadly, the answer is that the 'saffron shirt' may never have been a common style at all; it was likely just a short-lived fad among a few wealthy Irish in the 1530's. Since this may disappoint some readers, it is worth looking in-depth at this issue, expanding on McClintock's overview.
First, can saffron be used as a dye? The answer is a conditional yes; the 'crocin' extract from the stamen of the crocus creates a lovely yellow. However, the dye is highly fugitive (meaning that it fades quickly). Some fugitive dyes can be made more lightfast by adding a mordant, and crocin dye can indeed be better fixed into animal proteins (like wool) by this method. Linen, however, is notoriously difficult to dye with anything except woad and indigo. The fibers are hard and impenetrable, reluctant to absorb dye; even with mordants, strong colors are not durable and must be redyed periodically. Saffron, being fugitive anyway, washes out from linen after only a few launderings.
An Irish text from the 1200's demonstrates that the Irish were aware of crocus saffron as a dye (12) but the reference is to hair-dye, presumably to brighten blonde hair to a deeper yellow. If the Irish did at any time actually use saffron to dye linen (not wool), they must have done so purely as a display of conspicuous consumption; saffron threads had great market value, so using them for personal decoration would have been an ostentatious declaration of expendable wealth, akin to wearing gold, velvet and silk. The Irish were very clean, routinely laundering their clothes (and hair) with lye (see Lye Part 1), and their culture held deep stigmas against unwashed, dirty people and clothes, so it is unreasonable to assume that any garment in regular contact with the body would have gone unwashed, even to preserve a rare dye. It would therefore have required a constant re-dyeing of the garment to maintain a bright yellow, with the consequent consumption of more saffron.
Note that English bigotry linked the idea of the saffron tunic to the idea that the Irish never washed their clothes, and were dirty people generally. The one idea depends on the other. English writers, like Fynes Moryson (13), declared that the Irish thought saffron oil prevented lice and therefore they dyed their linen shirts with saffron, because the Irish were covered with lice. [Note that Moryson never set foot in Ireland before 1600.] Of course, as McClintock points out, the Irish cannot possibly have believed that saffron would keep off lice, for they would have applied it to the garments most in need of it: the thick wooly mantles, which were harder to wash, and provided the perfect environments for parasites.
Contemporary Irish writers pointed out that this was all slanderous prejudice, and that the Irish were (and always had been) very clean, except when war destroyed their homes and livelihoods. Nevertheless, the English continued to spread the idea of the filthy, ignorant Irish for multiple centuries, since it justified their colonial rule. They even went so far as to parade captive Irish prisoners abroad, unwashed and presented as savages—leading to some of the illustrations depicting 'wild Irish' in the mid-1500's.
The idea of 'saffron shirts' first appears in a 1531 report, given in Venice, describing the vulgar inland Irish. Ludovico Falier, who had never been to Ireland, repeated the description he had from English letters, saying: “the natives are warlike and wild... they wear a shirt steeped in zafferanata [saffron-color] on account of lice” (13). This second-hand, bigoted report offers little in terms of reliable information about the Irish, although it certainly documents the contemporary English attitude towards the Irish.
This was shortly followed by two English laws suppressing Irish displays of wealth. During Henry VIII's reign, ordinances prohibited the Irish from wearing too much fabric, or conspicuous headwear, or clothes dyed with saffron (13). In other words, the English wanted to make sure that their Irish subjects did not look rich or proud. These proclamations came from England in 1534, 1539, 1541, and 1571, but only the two from the 1530's mention saffron at all. There is nothing to suggest that it was specific to linen shirts, since the list also prohibits dyeing ribbons, kerchiefs, caps and “any garment” with saffron, as well as any wearing of silk ribbon. Apparently some Irish 'Within the Pale' had managed to build up wealth, and the English wanted to prevent their outward displays of success.
In 1539, Cromwell received a report of a very rich gift from a wealthy Irishman to an Englishman: “a saffron shirt dressed with silke, and a mantell of English cloth fringed with silke” (13). Here is concrete evidence that saffron shirts actually existed, but the context highlights the value of this material. This is no common garb worn by the inland 'wild' Irish, but a silk-trimmed gift meant for an Earl. Furthermore, the intended recipient was not Irish, and there is no detail to say whether the shirt was in an Irish style or an English style.
Another report on the Irish, presented from English letters, was read by Giacomo Soranzo to the Venetian State in 1554, describing the 'wild Irish' again as a dirty, warlike people who go barefoot, in tatters, wearing long linen tunics dyed with saffron (13). Given the value and fugitive brevity of saffron dye, the information in this report can be disregarded as highly unlikely. Poor people who cannot afford new clothes do not use expensive, labor-intensive fugitive dyes.
A Jesuit priest, Edmund Campion, visited Ireland for two years, arriving in 1569. He writes, “linnen shirts the rich doe weare... They have now left their saffron, and learne to wash their shirts four or five times in a year” (14). In the sentence before this, Campion states that the Irish do not wash their babies, but just wrap them up “fouled” in blankets, without even a diaper—and two sentences before that, he calls all Irishmen “bestiall.” His bias is clear; his 'History,' less so. He personally has not observed any saffron tunics in his time in Ireland; he only repeats the English myth that the Irish 'used to' dye their shirts with saffron, in the past—before they learned to do laundry.
Another Jesuit priest, Fr. William Good, writing in Latin in 1580, described his observations of Ireland from 1565. Fr. Good was English but was assigned to Ireland for six years. He apparently disliked the Irish intensely, even years later, when residing in Rome. According to Father Brodrick, “of Father William Good it has to be said that he tended to malign his Irish brethren” (15). McClintock notes that Fr. Good's account of Ireland was “strongly anti-Irish in tone” (13). Fr. Good's description of the Irish is stored in Rome in the Archivio di Stato di Roma, Paesi Stranieri, busta 28, fasc.1. The London Jesuit library also has a copy, held with other MacErlean transcripts in ABSI 46/23/8. Unfortunately, these manuscripts have not yet been digitized, so we must currently still use the translation from 1722, found in Camden's Britannia, which states that the Irish wore loose linen shifts with baggy sleeves, “which they generally dye with saffron” (13). He elaborates that the dye was primarily tree bark from Arbutus unedo, fixed with salt and aged urine. He also states that these “loose shirts of saffron color... are now much out of use” (13), as in, a style of the past, not of the time when he was in Ireland.
In other words, Fr. Good may have seen some tunics dyed yellow, but they were dyed primarily with strawberry tree bark, and they were 'no longer' the common style. This begs the question whether they ever were indeed truly common.
Edmund Spencer described the Irish in 1596, in 'dialogues' where he depicts them as lewd, coarse degenerates from a lower race. He believed that the Scottish race came from the Scythians and that the Irish race came from the Spanyardes, who came from Africa and were therefore all Mahometans; thus, he claimed, the Irish had 'brought' African habits with them: “From them also I thinke came saffron shirtes and smockes, which was devised by them in those hotte countryes, wher saffron is very common and rife, for avoyding that evill which commeth of much swetness, and long wearing of lynnen” (16). However, even in his visit to Ireland, Spenser does not claim to have actually seen saffron smockes; rather, he points out that the wearing of such is illegal and the fashion changed, so that the law is outdated and useless: “unnecessarie: the which perhappes though at the tyme of the making of them were very needful, yet nowe through change of time are cleane antiquated, and altogether idle: as that which forbiddeth any to weare theire beardes all on theire upper lip, and none under the chynne, and that which putteth away saffron shirts and smockes...” So Spenser ascribes to the same notion as Frs. Campion and Good, in thinking that once-upon-a-time, the Irish wore saffron tunics, but that it is no longer their custom.
Only one of these writers lived in Ireland for any length of time: Richard Stanihurst, an Englishman who grew up in Ireland from his birth in 1547 until he went off to college at Oxford, and then return visits to Ireland until 1575. He writes, in Latin, “in epulis accumbunt, lectulis positis, primus in mensa, locus tribuirur matrifamilias, talari tunica, & sæpe crocota, bene magnicata, amictæ; mirum inter vtrumque coniugem, inspectante populo, silentium; sola conum familiaritas cubicularis” (17). Talari translates to ornamented, tunica = tunic, sæpe = often, crocota = saffron-colored, bene = well, magnicata = sleeved, and amictæ = arrayed. Thus, he describes the mother of the family arrayed in an ornamented tunic with nice sleeves, sometimes colored yellow.
Stanihurst's description would be the most convincing evidence for an Irish style of wearing saffron tunics (at least, his is first-hand), except that contemporary writers criticized Stanihurst's book as horribly biased and blatantly untrue (18). Geoffry Keating even claimed that Stanihurst was likely bribed by the English to write propaganda instead of facts (19). Furthermore, Stanihurst grew up only among the English in Ireland; he did not speak Irish, and describes seeing the above supper-table scene staged for public viewing. According to him, the Irish recline at the table and are completely silent while the common people watch them eat. Whether he actually saw an Irish matron wearing yellow is even left open to debate, since he only says the tunic is 'often' saffron, not that it was saffron at the supper he actually observed.
Finally, there are various references to pieces of Irish literature that seem to speak of Irish saffron, thanks to nationalistic mistranslations around the turn of the 20th century. For example, a 17th century book of poems by David O'Bruadair is sometimes cited as a reference for “saffron kilts,” which is how Fr. MacErlean translated, “cóta laćtna” (20). However, cóta is an Anglo loan word meaning coat or jacket, and lachtna means the color of milk, or of unbleached wool, or grey; it derives from lacht, the word for cow milk. In the introduction, MacErlean admits that he aimed for poetic effect rather than linguistic precision in his translations, and he can certainly be forgiven (given the context of Irish nationalism in the early 1900's) for considering “saffron kilts” more poetic than “milk-colored jackets.” Nonetheless, such translations should not be used as evidence for historical garb trends.
In conclusion, the evidence from first-hand sources referring to the saffron shirt is scant, as problematic for the reenactor as trying to document an Irish kilt. If such a style ever existed for the common Irish, it can only be documented to the early 1500's. By the mid-1500's, it was already spoken of as a style of the past, and the laws banning it were considered uselessly outdated. The evidence for it hinges on two general mentions of dye in prohibitions, and one single reference to an expensive gift to an English Earl's son, a gift which included silk and English cloth, and provides no details on the origin, style or dye of the shirt in question. All other references get their information from hostile, bigoted sources, and depend on the English belief in Irish filth and savagery.
If the reenactor wants to make an outfit for a wealthy Irishman of the period, it would be more reasonable to base it on something like the description given by Sir Anthony Sentleger, of Manus O'Donnell's attire in 1541: “a cote of crymoison [crimson] velvet, with agglettes of gold... a great doble cloke of right crymoisin saten, garded with black velvet, [and] a bonette, with a feather, sette full of agglettes of gold” (21). This, at least, is a first-hand account describing clothes actually worn by an Irish nobleman, free of any problematic bigotry or propaganda goals. Aglets can be seen used decoratively in Tudor paintings of this period, as well as velvet and feathers. Since contemporary sources repeatedly say that Irish garb is not different from English garb, except for the fringe they attach to their cloaks/mantles, the use of English 16th century styles is an easy way to achieve accuracy for Irish clothing of this period.
Can the reenactor still wear a léine? Of course! A simple linen tunic could still have been common garb in the rural and isolated regions of inland Ireland. The problem is the lack of evidence to describe the form of that tunic. Baggy sleeves, a Continental style that certainly could have migrated to Ireland, and plenty of folds or pleats to display large amounts of cloth, are reasonable traits that the English laws seem to confirm. It might be worn alone, and long, for women's attire, or with a jacket or doublet, and trews or leggings, for men's attire. Woad and madder, used on linen in the earlier periods of Ireland, might well have continued to be homegrown dye sources for the inland Irish, so blues and purple/pink hues could still be reasonable choices, as well as undyed linen and white linen. A pale yellow might also be reasonable, depending on the dye material and mordant. All the reenactor should remember is that the Irish used lye to do their laundry, so color choices should take lightfastness of dye on linen into account (and disregard the English slanders about the filthy Irish never washing). The garment should also be designed for practical wear, not conspicuous consumption, given the isolation and suppressed economy of the inland Irish at the time. Wool tunics might be a fitting choice as well, especially for the hill country communities that had more access to sheep than to flax. Any natural dye that could be grown inland in Ireland could be used on wool, so more color choices are available.
To read about the rest of the outfit for Early Medieval Irish garb, see Irish Garb: Part 4.
Sources:
1) eDIL: Electronic Dictionary of the Irish Language, edited by Gregory Toner, Máire Ni Mhaonaigh, Sharon Arbuthnot, Marie-Luise Theuerkauf and Dagmar Wodtko. <www.dil.ie> Updated 2019. Unless specified, all Irish words in this research have come from the eDIL.
2) Fitzgerald, Maria. “Textile Production in Prehistoric and Early Medieval Ireland.” Thesis Vol 1, Department of History of Art and Design, Manchester Metropolitan University, 2000. p. 45
3) LaBerge, Michelle. “The Heart of the Madder: An Important Prehistoric Pigment and its Botanical and Cultural Roots.” Thesis, University of Wisconsin-Milwaukee, 2018. p. 30
4) Royal Irish Academy. “Todd Lecture Series.” Vol 13-17, Royal Irish Academy, 1906. p. 28
5) Giraldus Cambrensis. Topographia Hiberniae. 1188. Royal MS 13 B VIII f.1r-34v
6) An Leabhar Breac. MS 23 P 16. Royal Irish Academy. p.259 b 47.
7) Forester, Thomas, trans. The Topography of Ireland. Medieval Latin Series, In Parenthesis Publications, Ontario, 2000. Original from 1196.
8) Pritchard, Francis. “Aspects of the Wool Textiles from Viking Age Dublin.” NESAT 4, Tidens Tand Nr. 5, 1992. p. 100
9) Stokes, Whitley, trans. Togail Bruidne Da Choca. Revue Celtique. Ed. Emile Bouillon. Paris: Kraus Reprint, 1900. p.155
10) Stokes, Whitely, trans. "The Destruction of Da Derga's Hostel," Epic and Saga. Harvard Classics no. 49. New York, P. F. Collier & son, 1910.
11) Heckett, Elizabeth Wincott. Viking Age Headcoverings from Dublin: Medieval Dublin Excavations, 1962-81. Royal Irish Academy, 2003.
12) MacKenna, Lambert [translator]. The Book of Magauran: Leabhar Méig Shamhradháin. Dublin Institute for Advanced Studies, 1947.
13) McClintock, H.F. Old Irish and Highland Dress, with notes on that of the Isle of Man. Dundalgan Press, 1943.
14) Campion, Edmund. Two Histories of Ireland: the One Written by Edmund Campion, the Other by Meredith Hanmer Dr. of Divinity. Society of Stationers, 1633. p. 18
15) Brodrick, James. The Progress of the Jesuits (1556-79). Longmans, Green, 1947. p. 231
16) Spenser, Edmund. A View of the Present State of Ireland. Library of Alexandria, 1934.
17) Stanihurst, Richard. De Rebus in Hibernia Gestis. 1584. p. 38
18) Rich, Barnaby. New Description of Ireland. 1610.
19) Keating, Geoffrey. General History of Ireland. 1723.
20) O'Bruadair, David. John C. MacErlean [translator]. Duanaire Dháibhidh Uí Bruadair: the Poems of David O'Bruadair. Vol 13, Irish Texts Society, 1910. p. 76-77
21) O'Callaghan, John. History of the Irish Brigades in the Service of France: From the Revolution in Great Britain and Ireland Under James II, to the Revolution in France Under Louis XVI. Cameron and Ferguson, 1870. p. 110
Not a Saffron Shirt
Later-medieval-period reenactors often ask earlier-medieval-period reenactors when the saffron tunic first appeared in Ireland. Sadly, the answer is that the 'saffron shirt' may never have been a common style at all; it was likely just a short-lived fad among a few wealthy Irish in the 1530's. Since this may disappoint some readers, it is worth looking in-depth at this issue, expanding on McClintock's overview.
First, can saffron be used as a dye? The answer is a conditional yes; the 'crocin' extract from the stamen of the crocus creates a lovely yellow. However, the dye is highly fugitive (meaning that it fades quickly). Some fugitive dyes can be made more lightfast by adding a mordant, and crocin dye can indeed be better fixed into animal proteins (like wool) by this method. Linen, however, is notoriously difficult to dye with anything except woad and indigo. The fibers are hard and impenetrable, reluctant to absorb dye; even with mordants, strong colors are not durable and must be redyed periodically. Saffron, being fugitive anyway, washes out from linen after only a few launderings.
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| Kells f.29v |
An Irish text from the 1200's demonstrates that the Irish were aware of crocus saffron as a dye (12) but the reference is to hair-dye, presumably to brighten blonde hair to a deeper yellow. If the Irish did at any time actually use saffron to dye linen (not wool), they must have done so purely as a display of conspicuous consumption; saffron threads had great market value, so using them for personal decoration would have been an ostentatious declaration of expendable wealth, akin to wearing gold, velvet and silk. The Irish were very clean, routinely laundering their clothes (and hair) with lye (see Lye Part 1), and their culture held deep stigmas against unwashed, dirty people and clothes, so it is unreasonable to assume that any garment in regular contact with the body would have gone unwashed, even to preserve a rare dye. It would therefore have required a constant re-dyeing of the garment to maintain a bright yellow, with the consequent consumption of more saffron.
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| Kells f.4r a black-bearded saint with gold hair |
Note that English bigotry linked the idea of the saffron tunic to the idea that the Irish never washed their clothes, and were dirty people generally. The one idea depends on the other. English writers, like Fynes Moryson (13), declared that the Irish thought saffron oil prevented lice and therefore they dyed their linen shirts with saffron, because the Irish were covered with lice. [Note that Moryson never set foot in Ireland before 1600.] Of course, as McClintock points out, the Irish cannot possibly have believed that saffron would keep off lice, for they would have applied it to the garments most in need of it: the thick wooly mantles, which were harder to wash, and provided the perfect environments for parasites.
Contemporary Irish writers pointed out that this was all slanderous prejudice, and that the Irish were (and always had been) very clean, except when war destroyed their homes and livelihoods. Nevertheless, the English continued to spread the idea of the filthy, ignorant Irish for multiple centuries, since it justified their colonial rule. They even went so far as to parade captive Irish prisoners abroad, unwashed and presented as savages—leading to some of the illustrations depicting 'wild Irish' in the mid-1500's.
The idea of 'saffron shirts' first appears in a 1531 report, given in Venice, describing the vulgar inland Irish. Ludovico Falier, who had never been to Ireland, repeated the description he had from English letters, saying: “the natives are warlike and wild... they wear a shirt steeped in zafferanata [saffron-color] on account of lice” (13). This second-hand, bigoted report offers little in terms of reliable information about the Irish, although it certainly documents the contemporary English attitude towards the Irish.
This was shortly followed by two English laws suppressing Irish displays of wealth. During Henry VIII's reign, ordinances prohibited the Irish from wearing too much fabric, or conspicuous headwear, or clothes dyed with saffron (13). In other words, the English wanted to make sure that their Irish subjects did not look rich or proud. These proclamations came from England in 1534, 1539, 1541, and 1571, but only the two from the 1530's mention saffron at all. There is nothing to suggest that it was specific to linen shirts, since the list also prohibits dyeing ribbons, kerchiefs, caps and “any garment” with saffron, as well as any wearing of silk ribbon. Apparently some Irish 'Within the Pale' had managed to build up wealth, and the English wanted to prevent their outward displays of success.
In 1539, Cromwell received a report of a very rich gift from a wealthy Irishman to an Englishman: “a saffron shirt dressed with silke, and a mantell of English cloth fringed with silke” (13). Here is concrete evidence that saffron shirts actually existed, but the context highlights the value of this material. This is no common garb worn by the inland 'wild' Irish, but a silk-trimmed gift meant for an Earl. Furthermore, the intended recipient was not Irish, and there is no detail to say whether the shirt was in an Irish style or an English style.
Another report on the Irish, presented from English letters, was read by Giacomo Soranzo to the Venetian State in 1554, describing the 'wild Irish' again as a dirty, warlike people who go barefoot, in tatters, wearing long linen tunics dyed with saffron (13). Given the value and fugitive brevity of saffron dye, the information in this report can be disregarded as highly unlikely. Poor people who cannot afford new clothes do not use expensive, labor-intensive fugitive dyes.
A Jesuit priest, Edmund Campion, visited Ireland for two years, arriving in 1569. He writes, “linnen shirts the rich doe weare... They have now left their saffron, and learne to wash their shirts four or five times in a year” (14). In the sentence before this, Campion states that the Irish do not wash their babies, but just wrap them up “fouled” in blankets, without even a diaper—and two sentences before that, he calls all Irishmen “bestiall.” His bias is clear; his 'History,' less so. He personally has not observed any saffron tunics in his time in Ireland; he only repeats the English myth that the Irish 'used to' dye their shirts with saffron, in the past—before they learned to do laundry.
Another Jesuit priest, Fr. William Good, writing in Latin in 1580, described his observations of Ireland from 1565. Fr. Good was English but was assigned to Ireland for six years. He apparently disliked the Irish intensely, even years later, when residing in Rome. According to Father Brodrick, “of Father William Good it has to be said that he tended to malign his Irish brethren” (15). McClintock notes that Fr. Good's account of Ireland was “strongly anti-Irish in tone” (13). Fr. Good's description of the Irish is stored in Rome in the Archivio di Stato di Roma, Paesi Stranieri, busta 28, fasc.1. The London Jesuit library also has a copy, held with other MacErlean transcripts in ABSI 46/23/8. Unfortunately, these manuscripts have not yet been digitized, so we must currently still use the translation from 1722, found in Camden's Britannia, which states that the Irish wore loose linen shifts with baggy sleeves, “which they generally dye with saffron” (13). He elaborates that the dye was primarily tree bark from Arbutus unedo, fixed with salt and aged urine. He also states that these “loose shirts of saffron color... are now much out of use” (13), as in, a style of the past, not of the time when he was in Ireland.
In other words, Fr. Good may have seen some tunics dyed yellow, but they were dyed primarily with strawberry tree bark, and they were 'no longer' the common style. This begs the question whether they ever were indeed truly common.
Edmund Spencer described the Irish in 1596, in 'dialogues' where he depicts them as lewd, coarse degenerates from a lower race. He believed that the Scottish race came from the Scythians and that the Irish race came from the Spanyardes, who came from Africa and were therefore all Mahometans; thus, he claimed, the Irish had 'brought' African habits with them: “From them also I thinke came saffron shirtes and smockes, which was devised by them in those hotte countryes, wher saffron is very common and rife, for avoyding that evill which commeth of much swetness, and long wearing of lynnen” (16). However, even in his visit to Ireland, Spenser does not claim to have actually seen saffron smockes; rather, he points out that the wearing of such is illegal and the fashion changed, so that the law is outdated and useless: “unnecessarie: the which perhappes though at the tyme of the making of them were very needful, yet nowe through change of time are cleane antiquated, and altogether idle: as that which forbiddeth any to weare theire beardes all on theire upper lip, and none under the chynne, and that which putteth away saffron shirts and smockes...” So Spenser ascribes to the same notion as Frs. Campion and Good, in thinking that once-upon-a-time, the Irish wore saffron tunics, but that it is no longer their custom.
Only one of these writers lived in Ireland for any length of time: Richard Stanihurst, an Englishman who grew up in Ireland from his birth in 1547 until he went off to college at Oxford, and then return visits to Ireland until 1575. He writes, in Latin, “in epulis accumbunt, lectulis positis, primus in mensa, locus tribuirur matrifamilias, talari tunica, & sæpe crocota, bene magnicata, amictæ; mirum inter vtrumque coniugem, inspectante populo, silentium; sola conum familiaritas cubicularis” (17). Talari translates to ornamented, tunica = tunic, sæpe = often, crocota = saffron-colored, bene = well, magnicata = sleeved, and amictæ = arrayed. Thus, he describes the mother of the family arrayed in an ornamented tunic with nice sleeves, sometimes colored yellow.
Stanihurst's description would be the most convincing evidence for an Irish style of wearing saffron tunics (at least, his is first-hand), except that contemporary writers criticized Stanihurst's book as horribly biased and blatantly untrue (18). Geoffry Keating even claimed that Stanihurst was likely bribed by the English to write propaganda instead of facts (19). Furthermore, Stanihurst grew up only among the English in Ireland; he did not speak Irish, and describes seeing the above supper-table scene staged for public viewing. According to him, the Irish recline at the table and are completely silent while the common people watch them eat. Whether he actually saw an Irish matron wearing yellow is even left open to debate, since he only says the tunic is 'often' saffron, not that it was saffron at the supper he actually observed.
Finally, there are various references to pieces of Irish literature that seem to speak of Irish saffron, thanks to nationalistic mistranslations around the turn of the 20th century. For example, a 17th century book of poems by David O'Bruadair is sometimes cited as a reference for “saffron kilts,” which is how Fr. MacErlean translated, “cóta laćtna” (20). However, cóta is an Anglo loan word meaning coat or jacket, and lachtna means the color of milk, or of unbleached wool, or grey; it derives from lacht, the word for cow milk. In the introduction, MacErlean admits that he aimed for poetic effect rather than linguistic precision in his translations, and he can certainly be forgiven (given the context of Irish nationalism in the early 1900's) for considering “saffron kilts” more poetic than “milk-colored jackets.” Nonetheless, such translations should not be used as evidence for historical garb trends.
In conclusion, the evidence from first-hand sources referring to the saffron shirt is scant, as problematic for the reenactor as trying to document an Irish kilt. If such a style ever existed for the common Irish, it can only be documented to the early 1500's. By the mid-1500's, it was already spoken of as a style of the past, and the laws banning it were considered uselessly outdated. The evidence for it hinges on two general mentions of dye in prohibitions, and one single reference to an expensive gift to an English Earl's son, a gift which included silk and English cloth, and provides no details on the origin, style or dye of the shirt in question. All other references get their information from hostile, bigoted sources, and depend on the English belief in Irish filth and savagery.
If the reenactor wants to make an outfit for a wealthy Irishman of the period, it would be more reasonable to base it on something like the description given by Sir Anthony Sentleger, of Manus O'Donnell's attire in 1541: “a cote of crymoison [crimson] velvet, with agglettes of gold... a great doble cloke of right crymoisin saten, garded with black velvet, [and] a bonette, with a feather, sette full of agglettes of gold” (21). This, at least, is a first-hand account describing clothes actually worn by an Irish nobleman, free of any problematic bigotry or propaganda goals. Aglets can be seen used decoratively in Tudor paintings of this period, as well as velvet and feathers. Since contemporary sources repeatedly say that Irish garb is not different from English garb, except for the fringe they attach to their cloaks/mantles, the use of English 16th century styles is an easy way to achieve accuracy for Irish clothing of this period.
Can the reenactor still wear a léine? Of course! A simple linen tunic could still have been common garb in the rural and isolated regions of inland Ireland. The problem is the lack of evidence to describe the form of that tunic. Baggy sleeves, a Continental style that certainly could have migrated to Ireland, and plenty of folds or pleats to display large amounts of cloth, are reasonable traits that the English laws seem to confirm. It might be worn alone, and long, for women's attire, or with a jacket or doublet, and trews or leggings, for men's attire. Woad and madder, used on linen in the earlier periods of Ireland, might well have continued to be homegrown dye sources for the inland Irish, so blues and purple/pink hues could still be reasonable choices, as well as undyed linen and white linen. A pale yellow might also be reasonable, depending on the dye material and mordant. All the reenactor should remember is that the Irish used lye to do their laundry, so color choices should take lightfastness of dye on linen into account (and disregard the English slanders about the filthy Irish never washing). The garment should also be designed for practical wear, not conspicuous consumption, given the isolation and suppressed economy of the inland Irish at the time. Wool tunics might be a fitting choice as well, especially for the hill country communities that had more access to sheep than to flax. Any natural dye that could be grown inland in Ireland could be used on wool, so more color choices are available.
To read about the rest of the outfit for Early Medieval Irish garb, see Irish Garb: Part 4.
Sources:
1) eDIL: Electronic Dictionary of the Irish Language, edited by Gregory Toner, Máire Ni Mhaonaigh, Sharon Arbuthnot, Marie-Luise Theuerkauf and Dagmar Wodtko. <www.dil.ie> Updated 2019. Unless specified, all Irish words in this research have come from the eDIL.
2) Fitzgerald, Maria. “Textile Production in Prehistoric and Early Medieval Ireland.” Thesis Vol 1, Department of History of Art and Design, Manchester Metropolitan University, 2000. p. 45
3) LaBerge, Michelle. “The Heart of the Madder: An Important Prehistoric Pigment and its Botanical and Cultural Roots.” Thesis, University of Wisconsin-Milwaukee, 2018. p. 30
4) Royal Irish Academy. “Todd Lecture Series.” Vol 13-17, Royal Irish Academy, 1906. p. 28
5) Giraldus Cambrensis. Topographia Hiberniae. 1188. Royal MS 13 B VIII f.1r-34v
6) An Leabhar Breac. MS 23 P 16. Royal Irish Academy. p.259 b 47.
7) Forester, Thomas, trans. The Topography of Ireland. Medieval Latin Series, In Parenthesis Publications, Ontario, 2000. Original from 1196.
8) Pritchard, Francis. “Aspects of the Wool Textiles from Viking Age Dublin.” NESAT 4, Tidens Tand Nr. 5, 1992. p. 100
9) Stokes, Whitley, trans. Togail Bruidne Da Choca. Revue Celtique. Ed. Emile Bouillon. Paris: Kraus Reprint, 1900. p.155
10) Stokes, Whitely, trans. "The Destruction of Da Derga's Hostel," Epic and Saga. Harvard Classics no. 49. New York, P. F. Collier & son, 1910.
11) Heckett, Elizabeth Wincott. Viking Age Headcoverings from Dublin: Medieval Dublin Excavations, 1962-81. Royal Irish Academy, 2003.
12) MacKenna, Lambert [translator]. The Book of Magauran: Leabhar Méig Shamhradháin. Dublin Institute for Advanced Studies, 1947.
13) McClintock, H.F. Old Irish and Highland Dress, with notes on that of the Isle of Man. Dundalgan Press, 1943.
14) Campion, Edmund. Two Histories of Ireland: the One Written by Edmund Campion, the Other by Meredith Hanmer Dr. of Divinity. Society of Stationers, 1633. p. 18
15) Brodrick, James. The Progress of the Jesuits (1556-79). Longmans, Green, 1947. p. 231
16) Spenser, Edmund. A View of the Present State of Ireland. Library of Alexandria, 1934.
17) Stanihurst, Richard. De Rebus in Hibernia Gestis. 1584. p. 38
18) Rich, Barnaby. New Description of Ireland. 1610.
19) Keating, Geoffrey. General History of Ireland. 1723.
20) O'Bruadair, David. John C. MacErlean [translator]. Duanaire Dháibhidh Uí Bruadair: the Poems of David O'Bruadair. Vol 13, Irish Texts Society, 1910. p. 76-77
21) O'Callaghan, John. History of the Irish Brigades in the Service of France: From the Revolution in Great Britain and Ireland Under James II, to the Revolution in France Under Louis XVI. Cameron and Ferguson, 1870. p. 110
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