How did people protect themselves from the cold?
Once again, we find ourselves at the end of December, even if this year the cold seems to have arrived a little late. Still, hats, scarves, and gloves are prepared in anticipation of that morning when winter finally makes itself felt. But what did people wear against the cold in the Early Modern period?
The climate of the 16th–17th centuries is often described using the term Little Ice Age, referring to a wetter and cooler period compared to the High Middle Ages (12th–13th centuries). This does not imply dramatic drops in temperature—rather, a difference of just a few degrees Celsius in average temperature. Yet even this modest change was enough to shape everyday life and to inspire the beautiful winter landscapes so characteristic of the Early Modern Low Countries.
As more and more events require historical reenactors or experimental archaeologists to appear outdoors even in winter, or simply because historical reconstruction has reached a level where winter clothing must also be considered, I decided to explore this topic in more detail. What was appropriate, possible, and necessary to wear in winter? And more generally: what did people actually do during the winter months in this period?
It was clear from the outset that I was not interested in the stereotypical idea that everyone stayed indoors, doing nothing, because “medieval people never did anything but work.” Based on a principle I have often found to be true—some things never change—people clearly enjoyed leisure and entertainment, especially when there was less work to be done in the fields, orchards, or wine cellars.
With this in mind, I deliberately searched for images depicting winter activities and entertainment. Unsurprisingly, Early Modern paintings and prints are full of ice skaters, sledgers, people riding ice sleds, and crowds cautiously (or not so cautiously) navigating frozen surfaces. Some figures appear highly skilled, gliding almost professionally across the ice, while others stumble, fall, or even break through thinner ice layers and end up taking an unexpected dip.
Of course, daily business still had to be taken care of, which leads us to an obvious conclusion: people did go outdoors in winter. And if one spends longer periods outside—whether working or enjoying leisure activities—in snow and frost, additional clothing becomes essential.
Embroidered gloves from the 17th century
https://www.metmuseum.org/art/collection/search/81540
Following my usual approach, I examined both written and visual sources from the period. As mentioned above, the region of today’s Netherlands and Belgium produced an abundance of winter landscapes, which provided a particularly rich starting point. Costume albums are also extremely useful, as Early Modern people enjoyed presenting seasonal clothing, allowing us to glimpse entire winter wardrobes—if we know where to look.
Let us therefore focus on the parts of the body most in need of protection. I have written elsewhere about various types of outer garments and cloaks, which were padded with textiles or fur depending on wealth and temperature, so I will not repeat that here. Instead, let us consider the most vulnerable areas: ears, hands, and face.
Gloves were known both before and during the Early Modern period. Some were beautifully embroidered, designed primarily for representation rather than severe cold, and were more suitable for the ballroom season than for freezing outdoor conditions.
Pieter van der Heyden: Winter (detail)
Rijksmuseum
https://www.rijksmuseum.nl/nl/collectie/object/RP-P-1891-A-16535--7aec71c8c5ad852c831516b3bd49a5f5
We also encounter two- and three-fingered gloves, most likely made of leather and lined for warmth, suitable for winter use by both men and women.
Wenceslaus Hollar: English lady in winter dress
https://www.metmuseum.org/art/collection/search/356521
But what else could be used to keep hands warm if gloves were not the preferred option? Most readers will already be familiar with the answer, even if today we rarely reach for this accessory—except perhaps for an evening at the theatre or a particularly elegant winter event. Here, of course, the muff (handwarmer) comes into focus.
The term may have Latin roots: muffulae referred to a type of winter hand-warmer. From the French moufle came the Dutch mof, the Walloon mouffe, and eventually the English muff, which also entered Hungarian usage as a loanword. Today, the word often carries pejorative connotations (especially among men), but we shall leave such associations for mulled-wine evenings.
What matters here is that the muff became widespread in the 16th century as a decorative hand-warming accessory. Across Europe, muffs were produced with fur linings and outer surfaces made of fur or luxurious textiles, often decorated with pearls and metal ornaments. In Hungarian territories, several terms were used, including karmantyú, karzsák, and stuczli.
Sources mention velvet examples lined with looped velvet, but more often with valuable furs such as marten, sable, or polecat. Interestingly, inventories also record summer versions—for example, in the 1656 inventory of Mária Viczay—although it is hard to imagine many practical uses for a muff on a warm summer evening beyond displaying the richness of one’s wardrobe. Let us therefore return to winter.
Daniël van den Bremden; Adriaen Pietersz van de Venne: Winter (1625–1630)
https://www.rijksmuseum.nl/en/collection/object/Winter--64e9ad9270e172b00565640f1aea11d4
In terms of shape, the muff is generally cylindrical, allowing hands to be inserted from both sides. Its construction required both interlining and lining. Unfortunately, no Early Modern Hungarian examples are known, but Western European collections preserve numerous pieces. Moreover, careful observation of contemporary images reveals many variations.
Fully fur-covered muffs are common, but inventories and artworks also show textile-covered versions combined with fur. I personally found this latter type more appealing, which inspired me to make two reconstructions. In both cases, I planned fur linings, while allowing the fur to remain visible only at the edges, covering the outer cylinder with more expensive textiles.
One piece was made from multiple small sections of kid fur assembled into panels and covered with blue patterned silk brocade. The other used dark rabbit fur panels combined with embroidered silk fabric. These panels were mounted onto green wool (the colour is irrelevant, as it does not remain visible), as the skins themselves were very fine and thin.
Working fur onto a textile base is important not only for heat retention, but also for durability. The skins are thin and tear easily, so investing extra time in hand sewing and layering results in a more robust object. A professional furrier also emphasised this to me when I acquired the materials—though I had already learned something about the properties of musky fur from earlier projects.
I can wholeheartedly recommend these items for the depths of winter. Both winter gloves and muffs are relatively quick to make and also work wonderfully as Christmas gifts. I completed my own pieces within half a day, so I wish everyone productive work and warm hands!
Recommended reading
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Radvánszky, Béla: Magyar családélet és háztartás a XVI. és XVII. században. Budapest, 1986.
(Karzsákok: http://digitalia.tudaskozpont-pecs.hu/…) -
Rijksmuseum website: https://www.rijksmuseum.nl/…
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Tiramani, Jenny – North, Susan (eds.): Seventeenth-Century Women’s Dress Patterns. London, 2013.
