16th century Worsted Breeches

A pair of mid 16th century breeches, based on an extant Spanish example, once worn by a Conquistador. This style is also found in England, Italy and other parts of Europe.

My husband needed a new pair of breeches, which gave me the chance to try recreating the extant pair we saw in 2023 in the Schatzkammer of the Bavarian Army Museum in Ingolstadt, Germany.

I was thrilled to see these extraordinary breeches in person. Not only is extant clothing rare, these belonged to a common man rather than a noble, and they are both hard worn and repaired. The construction was a colonial hybrid: made in Peru to a European pattern, using a mix of European and local materials.

The original breeches were made from kersey (a fulled 2/2 wool twill), probably imported from England. I’ll be making my version using a heavy 2/2 worsted twill, which should be hardwearing.

Research & Design

The calçon (breeches) and ropilla (frock) were excavated in Peru in 1932, in association with some Peruvian textiles and are in surprisingly good condition. The breeches are dated to c1560-1580, and were worn by a Spanish soldier during the conquest of Peru (1532-1572).

These finds are detailed in a paper by Johannes Pietsch (2022) which includes a pattern based on close examination of the garment (this paper is available as a PDF download from the BAM). The cut is really interesting and very efficient.

The basic shape is similar to the Venetian style, with a full top gathered into a waistband, tapering to a simple hem below the knee. The basic shape is seen in images from the time, and from several extant breeches, including a late 16th century linen pair in the London Museum (Acc. No. 53.101/1b) and the silk calzoni of Cardinal Orsini in San Dominico Maggiore in Naples (c1581). A similar cut (albeit fuller) in silk brocade, worn by Cardinal Orsini c1581 (Landini 2011) and a velvet pair in the Germanisches Naationalmuseum (c1615-20), detailed in Patterns of Fashion 3 (Arnold, 2023).

The Venetian style cut can be seen in the Spanish pattern books, such as Diego de Freyle’s Geometria y traça (1588). Freyle’s pattern is cut with the side seam on the straight grain, and the CF, CB and leg seams on the bias. Extant examples in Germany, Italy and England follow a similar pattern, often with a pocket let into the side seam.

However, there are some fascinating differences in the pattern of these extant breeches….

The major one is the use of the fabric. These breeches are cut as quarter circles with the grain rotated 45 degrees! The CF and CB corners are pieced due to a narrow fabric width (I estimate it at 78cm). The front/leg and back/leg seams are cut on the straight grain, and there are no side seams. There is a separate diamond gusset to provide crotch shaping (also seen in the London example). A single pocket is let into the bias grain on the right side, slightly forward of the midline.

I played around the pattern to see how it would have been cut, based on the selvedges (shown here marked with highlighter). It is economical (only 1.6m) but the waistband needs to be cut from another length, since it is also on the selvedge.

Pattern

I marked up a copy of Pietsch’s pattern, starting by adding a 10cm grid over the top so I could see the details of scale. It looks like a simple quarter circle, but when I drew a true circle arc I could see it is shorter at the sides (which matches my usual pattern) and has extra added to the back seam (the base of this diagram).

The pocket is not at the true side point but slightly forward, which should make it easier to use.

For my first mockup (in recycled fabric) I increased the waistband and leg length to match my husband’s pattern, but made no other changes – a mistake, as it turned out. I should have checked the rise (crotch depth front and back) and the cuff size too! It is clear that the original was worn by a slim young man with narrow calves – and worn on the hips rather than the waist.

I took it apart and made changes – cut the cuffs higher (to make them larger), added fabric to the top to offset this and add an 7cm additional rise, lowered the gusset by 3cm. Tried it on again – almost right. The cuffs were now to loose, so I lowered them and offset this change by adding to the top to maintain the leg length.

My final pattern is based on the original, but adjusted to suit my husband’s proportions – and to be worn on the waist, pointed up to a doublet, rather than on the hips.

Construction

Pattern finalised, I laid it on my wool twill to check yardage – on the 150cm wool I only need 120cm! I could reduce this a little with piecing, but not enough for the extra effort. I cut the length of wool plus a little extra and set it to soak in a mordant bath overnight.

The next day I dyed the wool using food colour. First I did some samples to see what colours I could get over the brown – Nico preferred the green. The dried and ironed wool is a much nicer colour! I cut out the breeches, placing the back seam on the selvedge, as per the original.

In his article on these breeches, Pietsch describes the sewing sequence – right breeches leg, then adding the gusset, then sewing up the centre, the left leg and gusset. He notes that each seam was sewn (in backstitch) and then felled to one side, but does not say in which direction, or whether the raw edges were felled, or turned under.

Given the speed that twill wool frays, I assume that the edges were were turned under before felling, with the lower seam allowance trimmed to reduce bulk (the usual run and fell seam).

Pietsch does not say which direction the seams were felled, and my own pictures are ambiguous. But the London Museum breeches show that all seams are felled away from the gusset. This is also how shirts are made, so that’s the approach I took.

Becuase I was sewing by machine and then hand-felling, I sewed all the seams first and then felled them. I’ve done a neat job of it, but if I was going it by hand I would fell each seam as I went. The wool was very springy and hard to control, even with basting.

Because the seams are felled to one side, the base of the fly presents a problem – you need to cut the seam allowance to manage the change in direction so both edges of the fly can be hemmed. This is clearly a weak point – and one which is constantly stressed.

One approach would be to add a small reinforcing patch, as seen at the side splits on men’s shirts. Looking closely at the Spanish and English examples, I can’t see any indication of stitches in this area. So I worked a heavy buttonhole bar across the area, which is not visible from the outside. If this fails in use, I can always add a patch.

Unlike my usual pattern (which has the pocket at a gap in the side seam) the Spanish example has a rounded slit in the right front side, with a pocket bag behind, made of a different wool. Pocket bags were often made of a different material, such as chamois leather or fustian. I have some scrap heavy linen which will work for the job.

The article on the breeches has no information on the shape or size of the pocket bag. I did write and ask the museum, but they wrote back saying they had no further info. So I’m using my usual pocket bag – a simple rectangle based on the breeches from the GNM, but changing the insertion process to match the extant example.

The description of how the pocket was inserted in the Spanish breeches was ambiguous, but clearly involved running stitches around the edge, whipping and back-stitch. I made samples to try two approaches:

1. Cut the slit, turn the edges back and running stitch (the ends are tricky and have small fraying seam allowance). Cut a matching slit in the pocket fabric, turn back and whip around the pocket slit.
2. Sew the pocket to the wool around the slit, then cut, snip and turn through the slit, then running stitch around the edge to secure and whip the ends for extra strength.

The second option was neater and stronger, so I went with that. I sewed the open pocket bag to the breeches by machine, around a future slit line.

I cut the slit open and snipped the ends to reduce puckering. I turned the pocket fabric through the slit to the back, then sewed around the edge, whipping the ends for extra strength.

Once the pocket slit was finished, I sewed the vertical seam (machine run in lieu of backstitch, hand fell) and then sewed the base – backstitch with doubled waxed linen for extra strength. I’ve used the selvedge, so there is no need to fell this seam.

The end result is neat on the outside with plenty of room in the pocket, so it should work well.

Next I gathered the top of the breeches, folding the pocket bag out of the way. The pleats are irregular on the original (gathered using a large backstitch), so I didn’t try and make them perfect. I ran a single gather thread through at roughly 2cm spacing to give me some idea of pleat size. I matched up the 1/4 and 1/8 marks on the waistband and then basted the pleats to the band, working by eye. Then I machine-sewed them to the band.

I pleated the pocket bag in to 6cm (like the V&A example), then basted and sewed it into place just above the stitching line. Then I turned the band and whipped it to the seam at the back and along the open edges, catching the pocket bag in too. And gave the waistband a good press.

To close the breeches, the Spanish original has some large eyes at the front, with a tie still in place. The London example has a large flat ivory button and two buttonholes on the band, presumably for size adjustment. Neither the Spanish nor the London examples have fastenings at the fly – there is simply a small overlap.

Nico preferred a more secure closure, so these breeches are closed with a button at the waistband. I’ve worked a 16th century style buttonhole, outlining first in with a single thread in running stitch, cutting the slit then whipping the edges (twill frays so much) before working it. I used an appropriate pewter button from my stash (the UK Small Finds database has examples of the same size and similar design).

I’d planned to add another button or two on the fly, but the fabric is only a single layer, which is not really strong enough. Instead I sewed on a large hook and eye which should keep the fly closed and not be obvious from the outside.

Since these breeches will be pointed to a doublet or future imbusto (sleeveless doublet), I worked pairs of eyelets around the waistband using the same waxed linen thread. FInally, I turned a narrow hem on the cuffs and whipped these down, as per the original.

These breeches should wear very well and be a useful addition to my husband’s wardrobe.