Before plumbing, porcelain, or privacy, there were castles with chutes, forests with flies, and chamber pots that knew too much. In the Middle Ages, bodily functions were managed without embarrassment, but with a fair amount of strategy. From noble towers to leaf-covered clearings, toileting in medieval Europe was a matter of design, habit, and necessity.
Understanding the Dirty Truth About Medieval Toilets reveals much about historical hygiene practices.
Tonight, we’ll follow the winding trail of medieval sanitation. A slow drift from chamber pots and garderobes to the quiet woods where peasants squatted beside brambles. Along the way, we’ll discover not just how people relieved themselves, but how these routines shaped architecture, etiquette, and everyday life.
Table of Contents
The Dirty Truth About Medieval Toilets
The Forest Edge: Nature’s Default Toilet
For peasants, going to the bathroom often meant going outside. There were no outhouses, no designated pits—just an understanding of where it was acceptable to squat.
People found a secluded spot near the edge of the woods or behind a hedgerow, well away from the well, the cottage, and the paths animals used. It was unscheduled, unmarked, and deeply familiar.
Hygiene was minimal, but the experience was shared. Everyone knew how to tuck their tunic, where to crouch, and which leaves worked best when the moment arrived. In summer, there were flies. In winter, there was wind. But always, there was the open air and a moment of quiet privacy.
The Castle Garderobe: Privilege and Drafts
Up in the stone towers, nobles had their own arrangements. The garderobe—a small projecting room built into the castle wall—offered just enough space for a person to sit and go. A wooden bench with a hole. A shaft. And below, either open air or a moat.
The contents fell without ceremony.
There were no doors, just a curtain or nothing at all. The walls were cold. The wind came up the chute. But this was still better than the forest.
Sometimes, dried herbs were hung nearby to mask the smell. Occasionally, sponge-like moss or ragged cloths were used for wiping. Most of the time, the smell simply lingered.
Chamber Pots and the Night Soil Routine
In towns or at night, people used chamber pots—unglazed ceramic bowls kept under beds. The act was simple: squat, use, cover.
In the morning, someone—often a servant or the youngest child—was tasked with emptying it. They would walk to the edge of the garden or to a designated dumping spot, pour the contents, rinse the pot, and return it to its place.
The accumulated waste from chamber pots and garderobes became night soil, occasionally gathered and sold as fertilizer. The practice was common, odoriferous, and entirely routine.
Public Toilets: Rare but Real
Some cities had communal latrines, built over rivers or near guild halls. These were open stalls—simple wooden partitions with holes above running water. They offered a sense of community, or at least shared discomfort.
There were no locks, no flushing mechanisms, and rarely any kind of separation by gender. Just a platform, the occasional carved seat, and the gentle sound of water moving waste along.
Clothing and the Art of Not Falling In
Going to the bathroom in the 13th century required coordination. Tunics had to be lifted, hose untied, and long layers gathered in bunches to avoid disaster. There were no belts with buttons—just strings and layers.
Women had to lift skirts and petticoats. Men had to navigate their braies. Everyone had to watch their footing. A wrong step near a garderobe opening could end in humiliation or worse.
Smells, Shame, and Social Norms
Despite what one might imagine, people were not universally ashamed of defecation. It was spoken of plainly, joked about in literature, and depicted in marginal illustrations.
That said, rank mattered. Nobles went indoors. Peasants went outside. Servants cleaned up. And everyone understood that, while the body did what it must, it did not do so in polite company.
Cleanliness was relative. Linen underclothes helped. Herbs helped. So did avoiding communal wine if the potboy had just come back from dumping chamber pots.
Conclusion: The Eternal Routine
Toileting in the Middle Ages was neither glamorous nor hidden. It was practical, public, and full of texture—stone and wood, moss and water, wind and waste.
In castles and cottages, by rivers and hedges, people made do. They used what they had. They adapted their clothes, braved the smells, and carried on.
The next time you flush a toilet, think of the woman lifting three layers of wool in the forest. The servant with a sloshing pot at dawn. The wind howling up a stone shaft in a cold garderobe. For all our modern comforts, the routine remains the same.
Key Themes from the Narrative
- Peasant toileting in forests and hedgerows
- Castle garderobes and shaft-based waste disposal
- Chamber pots and night soil routines
- Rare communal latrines in medieval towns
- Clothing logistics and toileting
- Social structure and sanitation roles
- Smells, herbs, and public hygiene norms