This style of purse is typical for lower class German women from the late 15th century and well into the 16th century.

It is easy to find images of these purses – they were commonly worn by lower class women during much of the 16th century: Bauer (farmer), Burgher (town folk) servants, and occassionally by the Tross (Landschneckt women). It was such a stndard accessory, it was used as a signifier or artistic shorthand for servant or lower class women.
I’ve made a noble class purse, and a middle class one – now I wanted a lower class purse to go with my working class clothing.
I have long pondered the likely materials and contruction of this style. The recreations I have seen tend to look stiff, rather than the obviously soft purse with fine gathers seen in the artwork. And many are of dark or coloured leather, rather than the buff colour common in the artwork.
I hoped to make something that looked more realistic, based on the archaeology, artwork and related extant examples.
Research
Goubitz (2007) identifies this purse as both a ‘Pouch purse’ (p41) and a ‘Girdle pouch’ (p71) and states it was worn by both men and women. I have found examples of a similar purse without pouchlets worn by Netherlandish men in the 15th century, and there is a clear example from 1460 of a German man wearing this style – pouchlets and all (thanks Marcus Irgens). By the 16th century, it seems firmly fixed as a common woman’s purse.
Textiler Hausrat (1990) has limited information on purse types and names, but does cite a 1554 inventory reference to a low-quality leather bag as ‘altegliche [alltägliche] Beutel’ (everyday purse). This is a description rather than a contemporary name, so I’m calling this a Gürteltasche (thanks for the discussion, Sven Wolf!).
There are countless examples of this style in woodcuts, showing this gathered purse hung from the belt, closed at the top with a button through a cap over the gathers, and small pouchlets at the base.
Most of the examples are worn by lower class women – Bauer (farmer), Burgher (town folk) servants, and occassionally by the Tross (Landschneckt women). It was sometimes worn in association with keys and/or a knife, as can be seen in these images.



Paintings show that the great majority of these purses were buff coloured, as can be seen below. There are some rare coloured examples, but these are usually highly decorated with beads and tassels and I think are probably textile rather than leather.



The buff colour makes me think the purses were not made of oak tanned leather. This leather inevitably goes dark brown in use, or is stained black with iron and would depicted as black or dark brown.
Extant early 16th century drawstring money purses in this light buff colour are made of oil-tanned goat and deer leather (Trömmer, 2011). Other examples of contemporary buff purses can be seen in several collections, including several identified as women’s purses, although the actual forms of the purses differ. These purses are made from oil-tanned skins which are buff coloured (such as the example below), so chamois seems the most likely material.
The archeological record is interesting – there are no completed purses, but several examples of a teardrop back, with a row of stitching holes all around and usually a pair of slots near the top. The example below has extra holes, perhaps for attaching a strap.
Tannin preserves leather better than oil in an archeaological context. So, I believe the back was made of oak tanned leather, in contrast to the chamois front. This would keep the purse shape stiff, but would not be visible. Purse makers (such as the one below) worked in both leathers.



The front of the main purse has one or more gathered pouchlets at the base – often three. The top of the main purse is gathered and then closed with a small round lid, with a button to fasten it. The purse is suspended from a short strap over belt, usually plain but sometimes buckled. The strap often has raised edges, but the lid usually does not.
Based on this, I decided to try making the purse with the following features:
- Teardrop-shaped back in vegetable tanned leather
- Front purse with three pouchlets at the base
- Front, pouchlets and laces in light oil-tanned leather (sheep chamois, since I can’t get deer)
- Strap with raised edges, ending in a circular lid with a central buttonhole
- Closing knob in the same chamois, sewn to the front of the purse
- Pouchlet buttons in the same leather, or low status material.
There are many theories to test here!
Construction
My first step was to mock up a paper version to get the proportions and scale. Once I was happy with the paper version, I made mockups in felt to develop the actual pattern – stiff furnishing felt for the back and regular felt for the front and pouchlets. Two versions and some adjustments later, I was happy with the look.



Once the mockup looked right, I made a final pattern of the main pieces. The back section is 21cm tall, in keeping with the archeological examples. I’ll mark the lacing and binding strips directly on the leather.

Meanwhile, I prepared the chamois – damping it down, gently stretching and pinning it onto my felt board to remove any wrinkles, then letting dry overnight. I don’t have access to deer chamois, so I’ve used sheep – bought from a car parts shop, used for washing cars (and inexpensive compared with most leather). I’d used the rest of this hide for something else, but there is just enough left…
The next day I cut out the pieces, working around the flaws in the leather. The easiest way to do this is to place the patterns on the front, pin at key points, then turn over and mark the points. Then place the patterns upside down on the wrong side, mark and cut.
I cut the back in stiff 2mm vegetable tanned leather. The leather was curved (rolled up for storage), so I wet it and set it on my board to dry flat. Then I wet and smoothed off the edges, since these will be exposed.



The first stage is to sew the pouchlets to the front of the purse. There are several different ways to do this, depicted in art and visible in extant purses.
My previous purse had the strings coming out above the pouchlet, since this was consistent with the archeological example I was using (and as seen here in the V&A example). But the art depicting this low class purse consitently shows a knob at the front of the purselet, with the strings coming out at a single point behind this.
I tried three different ways to thread the pouchlets (I have found other methods as well) and decided on the middle version. This means an uneven number of holes in the pouchlets, so I measured and marked these. Then I tested the slot size needed for my 5mm lace and cut the slots on the three pouchlets.



Next, I tested various was of sewing on the pouchlets. Some extant examples are simply whipped on, while more up-market purses often have quite elaborate braidstitches. The extant examples all seem to use silk for this stitching, even if the main contruction stitching is linen.
Some examples also have decorative silk stitching around the open edges of the main purse and/or pouchlets – buttonhole stitch is common. But these are higher class purses, often with other ornate decorations, so I decided to leave mine plain.
When I made my Bügeltasche, I just eyeballed the stitch spacing on the pouchlets – the fine silk matched the leather and the stitches were not obvious. Here I’m using a heavy contrast silk, so I wanted to ensure even spacing. I tried 4 different prickwheels to get the right spacing (I didn’t realise I had so many!) then marked along the edge of the leather with graphite paper.
I marked the positions on the back of the leather, then pinned the key points and marked the front. I tacked the centre pouchlet in place at several points, then sewed it on using brown Ver a Soi perle silk, waxed and burnished to reduce tangles, in a simple whip stitch.



Having sewn on the first pouchlet, I decided I didn’t like the effect of the brown silk stitching – it stood out too much, and was too decorative for my low class purse. So I un-picked it and sewed again with matching cream silk. Much happier with this, so I sewed on the other two pouchlets.
With the pouchlets on, I punched a pair of slots in the main purse at the top of each pouchlet. Then I threaded the laces through the slots, starting and finishing at the front. Then both ends go through a brass button to keep each pouchlet closed.



With the front constructed, it’s time to sew the front to the back.
The Goubitz (2007) drawing of a related extant purse shows the edge of the front purse swelling past the back all around, and a clear line of stitches around the circumference, set about 3mm from the edge (when at scale). The stitches obviously go through the back and front pieces, to secure them.
I experimented with this and found a lapped seam gave exactly the look in the Goubitz drawing. It was also consistent with the artwork images, and with the stitch holes in other tear-shaped back panels.
My trial runs in felt showed I needed to gather the edge a little to give the purse the right fullness at the base, and provide the smooth edge as seen in the extant example in Goubitz, so I gathered the base on the sewing machine to give the right ease (the pic here shows the laces stuffed into the pouchlets to keep them out of the way). I’ll remove this stitching once the purse is assembled.
I cut larger slots along the top to take a pair of slightly wider laces, to secure the main purse.



On the the main construction!
Goubtitz’ drawing shows a simple row of 1/4″ stitches. I decided to use this spacing, but use double stitching (saddle stitch) for extra strength. I planned to sew the purse inside out, then wet and turn it like a turnsole shoe.
Using my pair of compasses, I marked a 5mm groove the inside of the back to give a consistent seam, then glued the base of the front along this line using starch paste – this will hold things while I sew, then dissolve when I turn it.
I started stitching in the middle of the base, working up both sides. I’m using a fine awl to make each stitch, then heavy linen thread treated with coad (beeswax & rosin) and mounted on a pair of boar bristles.
After the first stitch, I realised that sewing from the inside was going to make for an uneven line of stitches on the outside, so I changed tack. I marked the outside and worked from there – much easier!



The dual leathers are a pain to sew. The vegetable tanned leather works well with an awl and bristle. The chamois is easy to sew with a needle, but not with a bristle – the hole closes up as soon as you take the awl out. Slow going – I can see why the maker of the Goubitz purse only used running stitch!
I worked the base in both directions (with two sets of threads), then started up the sides, glueing a little at a time, alternating sides. At about the halfway mark I needed to wet the back piece to make it flex enough to manipulate the stitches.
I blew out 2 bristles (the chamois dragged off my less-than-perfect wrappings) but got there in the end. I removed the gathering stitches from the chamois. Then I burnished the stitches on the back with my bone folder to set them and sink them into the leather.
To finish the back, I cut a pair of slots, wet the leather well and formed a raised channel, then set this to dry. This channel will allow the laces to travel through the back of the purse more easily.



On to the strap and lid…
I tested a couple of different ways to get the raised edge on the strap: sew, turn and then topstitch; or bind in strips. In both cases, the strap is doubled for extra strength.
I liked the bound edge best, so I glued the two laters together, then sewed the edge strips using fine linen thread (by machine to save time). Then I turned the edges to the back and whipped them down.



To make the lid, I sewed the two layers together, then turned it out through a gap. I glued the two layers together for strength, glued the open edges down, then glued the strap into the opening to hold while sewing. Finally, I sewed the lid to the strap on both sides, with waxed linen thread.



Before I work the centre buttonhole, I need to make the button, so I know how large it is.
Contemporary artworks show the buttons in the same colour as the lid, and many extant examples show knotted knobs made of the same leather, or a contrasting one (higher class). I tried a few knot types – including monkey fist and turkshead variations, but the soft fuzzy chamois was not working.
In the end I went for a 4 way knot, using Gina B’s single piece technique (Barrett, 2013). I trimmed two tails and sewed them at the back of the button, then sewed the other two together to form a shank.



I trimmed the loose ends and sewed it inside the centre front of the purse, overlapping to spread the load.
Now I had the button size, I tested the buttonhole on a scrap of leather, then cut the slot with a chisel and worked it in buttonhole stitch in waxed linen.



Now to attached the strap.
I pasted it to hold in place while I sewed – folded over, so the strap encloses the top of the stiff purse back. Then I sewed it from the front with heavy linen thread, treated with coad – it needs to be strong.
To finish the purse, I threaded two laces through the purse and back slots, starting and finishing at both sides. A pair of long tweezers makes it easier to keep the laces flat! I finished the ends with simple overhand knots, and the pouchlets to match.



To close the purse, I pull both sets of purse strings and button through the lid. To open, unbutton and then pull the purse open with both hands.
This has been a fun project – I tested a lot of ideas and theories on how these purses might have been made, and I think the end result is both a justifiable interpretation and looks just right!
It’s buttery soft, and large enough to hold all the useful things – phone, handkerchief, money purse…




