Why Bathing Was Considered Dangerous?
In medieval Europe, bathing was viewed with a surprising degree of suspicion. While cleanliness was not entirely neglected, many believed that excessive washing could do more harm than good. Medical theories of the time, largely based on humoral theory, suggested that the body was governed by four fluids—blood, phlegm, yellow bile, and black bile—that needed to remain in balance. Bathing, particularly in warm water, was thought to open the pores, making the body vulnerable to “bad air” (miasma) and disease. This belief was so widespread that some physicians recommended infrequent bathing to avoid weakening the body’s defenses.
Seasonal restrictions on bathing were also common. Medieval medical texts, such as the Secreta Secretorum, advised that bathing should be limited during summer, as the heat was believed to overextend the body’s natural functions. Prolonged exposure to hot water was thought to cause weakness, digestive issues, and even heart problems. Even King Louis XIV of France, centuries later, famously avoided bathing, reportedly taking only three baths in his entire life. His aversion to water contributed to severe hygiene issues, including infections so severe that his toes allegedly began to rot inside his shoes.
Despite these concerns, public bathhouses remained popular in many medieval cities. However, they were often associated with moral corruption, as mixed-gender bathing and prostitution were common in some establishments. Church authorities frequently condemned these bathhouses, linking them to sin and disease. Over time, as plagues ravaged Europe, the fear of spreading illness led to a further decline in communal bathing. By the early modern period, many Europeans had adopted the belief that simply changing clothes and using perfumes was an adequate substitute for washing—a notion that persisted well into the 18th century.
The Truth About Chamber Pots and Filthy Streets
Medieval cities were notorious for their lack of sanitation, and chamber pots played a significant role in the daily struggle to manage human waste. These rudimentary containers, commonly found in households across all social classes, were used primarily at night when venturing outside to public latrines was impractical. However, the real problem wasn’t the chamber pots themselves—it was what happened once they were full. In many towns, the contents were simply tossed out of windows onto the streets below, often with a shouted warning of “Gardy loo!” (a corruption of the French Prenez garde à l’eau, meaning “Watch out for the water”) to alert pedestrians to the impending hazard. Despite regulations meant to curb this practice, the streets of medieval cities remained filthy, strewn with human and animal waste, rotting food, and other refuse.
The sheer volume of waste accumulating in the streets led to the employment of “muckrakers”—workers tasked with removing the filth and disposing of it outside city walls. Some cities attempted to improve sanitation by constructing public latrines, often built over rivers or canals for natural waste disposal. London, for example, had regulations as early as 1421 that imposed fines on those caught dumping waste into the streets, though enforcement was inconsistent. These unsanitary conditions contributed to frequent outbreaks of disease, exacerbating the already harsh realities of medieval urban life. Without an understanding of germ theory, medieval people had little means of combating the health risks posed by their environment, making cities breeding grounds for illness and infection.
Medieval Dentistry—Cures That Did More Harm Than Good
Medieval dentistry was not for the faint of heart. Long before the advent of anesthesia or germ theory, dental care was a painful and often dangerous ordeal. Barber-surgeons, who were responsible for everything from bloodletting to amputations, were the primary practitioners of dental work. Their go-to solution for a troublesome tooth? Extraction—performed with rudimentary tools like iron forceps or even a hammer and chisel. Without pain relief, the experience was brutal, and the risk of infection was high. If no barber-surgeon was available, desperate individuals sometimes turned to blacksmiths for tooth removal, a practice that hardly improved their odds of survival.
Despite the crude methods, medieval people did attempt to maintain oral hygiene. They used linen cloths to wipe their teeth and relied on herbal mixtures made from sage, mint, and cinnamon to freshen breath. Vinegar-based mouthwashes were also common, though their acidity likely did more harm than good over time. Tooth decay was less prevalent than today, thanks to a diet that lacked refined sugar. However, when dental issues arose, treatments could be extreme. Some remedies involved applying mercury compounds to infected gums—an approach that was more toxic than therapeutic. Others believed in the myth of “tooth worms” and tried to smoke them out with heated herbs, an utterly ineffective and painful practice.
For those who could afford it, dentures were an option, albeit a grim one. They were often made from animal bone or even repurposed human teeth, which were sometimes taken from corpses. Given the lack of sterilization, these early prosthetics posed serious health risks. In cases of severe dental disease, cauterization—burning infected tissue to stop the spread of infection—was sometimes used, turning a bad situation into an excruciating one. Ultimately, medieval dentistry was a field of desperation rather than precision, where the cure was often as bad as, if not worse than, the ailment itself.
The Use of Urine as a Cleaning Agent
In the medieval world, where access to modern soaps and detergents was nonexistent, people turned to an unlikely but highly effective cleaning agent: urine. While this may seem shocking by today’s standards, urine was widely used for its natural ammonia content, which made it an effective cleanser for textiles, leather, and even personal hygiene. The practice had its roots in ancient Rome, where fullers—professional launderers—collected urine from public receptacles to clean woolen garments. The ammonia in aged urine helped break down grease and dirt, making it a valuable resource in an era where cleaning solutions were scarce.
Urine played a crucial role in the textile industry. It was commonly used as a mordant in fabric dyeing, helping dyes adhere more permanently to cloth. Leather tanners also relied on urine to soften hides and remove hair before the tanning process. In some cases, urine was even used for sterilization, as it was believed to have antiseptic properties. While the idea of using urine for cleaning may be unappealing today, it was a practical and effective solution in medieval society, demonstrating the ingenuity of people making use of available resources.
The Belief That Wearing Perfume Could Replace Bathing
The medieval world had a complicated relationship with hygiene, and nowhere was this more evident than in the widespread belief that perfume could replace bathing. This idea wasn’t simply about masking unpleasant odors—it was deeply rooted in medical theories, social customs, and the practical challenges of maintaining cleanliness in an era when hot baths were a luxury. Many people, particularly the wealthy, relied on fragrances as a substitute for regular washing, convinced that pleasant scents could ward off disease and maintain personal hygiene.
One reason for this belief stemmed from the medieval medical theory of miasma—the idea that diseases spread through “bad air” rather than germs. To counteract these dangerous vapors, people carried small, ornate pomanders filled with aromatic substances like musk, ambergris, and civet. These were not just accessories but were considered essential tools for health and well-being. Monks and apothecaries cultivated herbs like lavender, rosemary, and sage, using them in scented waters or burning them in homes to purify the air. Many aristocrats even sprinkled perfume on their clothes and bedding, believing this would keep them clean without the need for water.
Beyond health concerns, perfume also functioned as a marker of social status. The wealthy could afford rare and exotic fragrances, often imported from the Middle East, while poorer individuals had to rely on locally available herbs and flowers. Lavish banquets included bowls of scented water for guests to rinse their hands, reinforcing the idea that fragrance alone was enough to maintain cleanliness. Women of the upper classes often applied perfumed powders to their hair and garments, sometimes even tucking fragrant flowers into their clothing to maintain a pleasant aroma throughout the day.
Practicality also played a role in this preference for perfume over bathing. Heating water was expensive and time-consuming, making full-body washes infrequent for much of the population. In cities, access to clean water was limited, and many people avoided public bathhouses due to their association with disease or moral corruption. Instead, they turned to scented oils and floral extracts as a convenient alternative. Some even believed that frequent bathing could weaken the body, making perfume seem like the safer and more refined option.
While the idea of replacing bathing with fragrance may seem odd today, it reflected the medieval world’s resourcefulness in dealing with hygiene challenges. By blending medical beliefs, social customs, and practical constraints, medieval Europeans developed a unique approach to cleanliness—one that, while scientifically flawed, highlights the ingenuity of the time.
