7 Bizarre Facts About Medieval Toilet Habits and Hygiene

By Trivia Daily, History Desk — Published August 9, 2026

Table of Contents

• Key Takeaways
• The Bizarre Medieval Toilet Called a Garderobe
• Medieval People Wiped with Moss, Stones, and Pottery Shards
• Communal Latrines Offered Zero Privacy
• Gong Farmers Cleaned Cesspits for Surprisingly Good Money
• Chamber Pots Were Emptied Out Windows Onto Streets
• Toilet Seats Were Status Symbols Made from Velvet
• Medieval Monks Had the Most Advanced Toilet Systems
• Frequently Asked Questions

The Middle Ages get a bad reputation when it comes to cleanliness, and for good reason. While our ancestors weren’t quite as filthy as Hollywood suggests, their approach to bathroom business was undeniably strange by modern standards. The bizarre medieval toilet arrangements of this era reveal a world where privacy was a luxury, human waste served unexpected purposes, and hygiene practices would make most of us cringe today.

From castle garderobes that dropped waste directly onto enemies below to communal facilities where strangers sat shoulder-to-shoulder, medieval sanitation tells us volumes about daily life in centuries past. These historical bathroom habits weren’t just unpleasant—they shaped urban planning, influenced disease patterns, and even affected military strategy across European civilizations.

Key Takeaways

• Castle toilets called garderobes often emptied directly down exterior walls, creating foul-smelling streaks and occasionally serving as invasion routes
• Medieval people used moss, leaves, stones, and even old pottery shards instead of toilet paper
• Communal public latrines seated dozens of people at once with no partitions or privacy
• Human waste was collected by “gong farmers” who cleaned cesspits at night and sold the contents as fertilizer
• Some medieval castles had toilets built into window alcoves and castle walls for strategic defensive purposes
• Wealthy households kept chamber pots under beds and employed servants whose sole job was emptying them

The Bizarre Medieval Toilet Called a Garderobe

Medieval castles featured toilets with a charmingly deceptive name: the garderobe. This French term literally means “wardrobe,” and these facilities served a dual purpose that explains the odd nomenclature. Built into the thick stone walls of fortifications, garderobes were essentially small rooms with a wooden bench containing a hole. The waste dropped straight down through a shaft, either into a moat, a river, or a cesspit far below.

The wardrobe connection wasn’t accidental. People in this era actually stored their clothing near these smelly latrines because the ammonia fumes from decomposing urine repelled moths and other fabric-damaging insects. Imagine hanging your finest tunics in what was essentially a vertical sewer. The practice was common enough that the word “garderobe” became synonymous with both toilet and closet.

Castle garderobes created serious defensive vulnerabilities. The shafts were wide enough that attackers occasionally climbed up them to infiltrate fortresses. Dark, slippery, and utterly revolting, these passages represented such an unthinkable route that guards rarely monitored them closely—making them tactically valuable despite the horror involved.

Medieval People Wiped with Moss, Stones, and Pottery Shards

Toilet paper as we know it didn’t exist in medieval Europe. Instead, people improvised with whatever materials were available, and the options ranged from merely uncomfortable to genuinely painful. Wealthy individuals might use wool, lace, or hemp, while common folk made do with whatever nature or their surroundings provided.

Hay and straw served as popular choices in rural areas. Moss worked well because of its softness and absorbency. Leaves from certain plants were gathered seasonally for this purpose. In coastal regions, people used mussel shells or smooth stones. Archaeological evidence from medieval cesspits reveals fragments of broken pottery—called “pessoi” by ancient Greeks who pioneered this uncomfortable practice—that continued into the Middle Ages.

The wealthy could afford cloth scraps, which were washed and reused. Monasteries sometimes kept communal sponges on sticks, stored in buckets of salt water or vinegar between uses. This implement, called a tersorium in Roman times, persisted in some religious communities well into the medieval period.

Communal Latrines Offered Zero Privacy

Public toilets in medieval towns were communal affairs that would shock modern sensibilities. These facilities, often built over rivers or streams, featured long wooden benches with multiple holes cut side by side. No partitions. No doors. No privacy whatsoever. Strangers sat elbow-to-elbow attending to their most private business as casually as if they were sharing a bench in the town square.

London Bridge famously housed public latrines that emptied directly into the Thames River below. Dozens of holes lined the structure, and people queued up during busy times. The setup was considered perfectly normal—privacy in bathroom matters simply wasn’t a cultural priority during this historical era. Conversation flowed freely while waste flowed downward.

Monasteries took communal facilities to another level. The reredorter, or necessarium, was a dedicated building where monks relieved themselves together, often while maintaining their vows of silence. Some monastic latrines could accommodate fifty or more individuals simultaneously. Running water beneath the seats, channeled from nearby streams, provided a primitive but effective flushing system that was actually quite advanced for the century.

Gong Farmers Cleaned Cesspits for Surprisingly Good Money

Not all medieval waste fell directly into rivers or moats. Urban cesspits—deep holes lined with stone or wood—collected excrement from households and businesses. These pits required regular emptying, a job so unpleasant it commanded premium wages. The workers who performed this task were called “gong farmers” or “night soil men,” and they operated under strict regulations.

Gong farmers worked exclusively at night to minimize public offense from the overwhelming stench. They hauled the waste away in barrels, often selling it to farmers as fertilizer. Human excrement was valuable for agriculture, creating an actual economy around medieval sewage. The job was hereditary in some families, passed down through generations who developed specialized knowledge of the city’s underground cesspit networks.

The work carried serious health risks. Gong farmers occasionally suffocated from toxic gases in deep pits. Historical records document deaths from methane accumulation and workers being overcome by fumes. Despite the dangers and social stigma, the profession paid well enough that some practitioners became relatively prosperous members of their communities.

Chamber Pots Were Emptied Out Windows Onto Streets

Most medieval city dwellers didn’t have private toilets. Instead, they used chamber pots—ceramic or metal vessels kept under beds or in corners. Come morning, the contents needed disposing of, and the most convenient method was simply tossing it out the window into the street below.

This practice created such hazardous conditions that some cities enacted laws requiring people to shout a warning before emptying chamber pots. In Edinburgh, the traditional cry was “Gardyloo!”—a corruption of the French “Gardez l’eau” (Watch out for the water). Pedestrians were expected to respond “Haud yer han!” (Hold your hand) and press themselves against buildings to avoid the deluge.

Streets in medieval towns often featured central gutters designed to channel rainwater and, inevitably, human waste toward rivers or collection points. The mixture created a perpetually filthy urban environment. Wealthy individuals employed servants specifically to carry chamber pots to designated disposal areas, but the majority of the population simply defaulted to the window-tossing method that characterized medieval urban sanitation.

Toilet Seats Were Status Symbols Made from Velvet

For the medieval elite, even bathroom fixtures became displays of wealth and status. Noble households commissioned elaborate toilet seats upholstered in velvet, trimmed with ribbons, and sometimes studded with brass nails. These “close stools” were essentially portable toilets—wooden boxes with padded seats concealing chamber pots.

Royal close stools reached absurd levels of luxury. Monarchs traveled with ornate portable toilets that featured cushioned seats, decorative woodwork, and even locks to prevent commoners from using the sovereign’s personal facilities. The Groom of the Stool, a real position in English royal households, was a high-ranking courtier responsible for assisting the monarch with toilet activities—a job that paradoxically carried significant political influence because of the private access it granted.

The contrast between rich and poor toilet experiences was stark. While nobles sat on velvet-covered seats in relative privacy, peasants squatted over holes in the ground or used communal facilities. This divide in sanitation reflected broader social hierarchies that defined medieval civilizations, where even the most basic human functions became opportunities to demonstrate status and power.

Medieval Monks Had the Most Advanced Toilet Systems

While medieval sanitation was generally primitive, monasteries developed surprisingly sophisticated plumbing systems. Religious communities, with their emphasis on communal living and cleanliness as spiritual practice, invested in toilet facilities that wouldn’t be matched in secular society for centuries.

Cistercian monasteries in particular engineered impressive water management systems. They diverted streams to flow beneath their reredorters, creating continuously flushing toilets centuries before Thomas Crapper popularized the modern flush toilet. The Abbey of Fountains in Yorkshire featured a stone-lined channel that carried waste away from the monastery grounds using gravity and running water—a remarkably advanced system for the 12th century.

These monastic systems included separate facilities for different ranks within the community. Abbots often had private latrines, while regular monks used communal facilities. Infirmaries maintained their own toilet facilities with easier access for sick or elderly monks. The sophistication of these systems reveals that medieval people understood sanitation principles far better than their typical practices might suggest—they simply lacked the resources or social organization to implement such systems widely outside wealthy religious institutions.

Frequently Asked Questions

Did medieval people ever bathe or practice personal hygiene?

Yes, medieval people bathed more regularly than popular myths suggest. Public bathhouses were common in medieval towns, and people washed their hands and faces daily. Full-body bathing occurred less frequently than today, typically weekly or monthly, but the notion that medieval people never bathed is historically inaccurate.

What did medieval cities smell like with all the waste in the streets?

Medieval cities produced powerful odors from human waste, animal dung, rotting garbage, and industrial processes like tanning leather. The smell was intense enough that wealthy residents burned incense and carried pomanders—perforated containers filled with aromatic herbs and spices—to mask the stench when walking through urban areas.

How did medieval people deal with menstruation without modern products?

Medieval women used cloth rags that could be washed and reused, giving rise to the phrase “on the rag.” Wealthier women might use wool or linen, while poorer women used whatever fabric scraps were available. Some evidence suggests women also used moss or other absorbent natural materials during this historical period.

Were there any laws about sanitation in medieval times?

Yes, many medieval cities enacted sanitation ordinances prohibiting dumping waste in certain areas, requiring cesspits to be a minimum distance from wells, and mandating regular street cleaning. Enforcement was inconsistent, but authorities recognized that unchecked filth created health hazards and unpleasant living conditions.

The bathroom habits of our medieval ancestors remind us that progress isn’t always linear. While monks engineered sophisticated plumbing systems, most people lived with sanitation practices that seem nearly unimaginable today. Next time you appreciate modern plumbing, spare a thought for the gong farmers and garderobe users of centuries past—and be grateful you’ll never need to shout “Gardyloo!” before emptying your chamber pot into the street below.