Being Privy to Tudor Privies by Wendy J. Dunn
Just thought I would mention that a large part of this article (first written by me in 1999) was lifted from my website and used without permission by Terry Breverton in Everything You Ever Wanted To Know About the Tudors but Were Afraid to Ask.
Another of my old Tudor England pieces from Suite101, and somewhat tongue-in-cheek…
If I ever find a time machine (other than my own imagination) to take me back to Tudor times I know one certain thing – I would be very cautious whilst walking mornings down narrow streets of any Tudor city or township. For early mornings saw many good Tudor housewives emptying their chamber pots out windows of their homes. Actually, methinks I would be tempted to apply my cautiousness to all times of the day.
When people of this time had to go they mostly found a suitable corner and just went; I also hazard a guess that the fact women wore no knickers probably made it easier for them to discretely lift their skirts from the ground, squat a little and do.
Even at the beautiful palaces of this period there were ‘pissing areas’ allotted for members of the court. In their first weeks at the court of Henry VII, it shocked Katherine Aragon’s Spanish ladies, and no doubt sixteen-year-old Katherine herself, to witness courtiers attending to their bodily needs when and wherever necessary (Emerson 1996, p. 54).
The huge fireplaces of the times seemed a popular choice for men to urinate in but, as the years approached the time of the ascension of James I changing attitudes meant such behaviour upset people more and more. In 1573, Thomas Tusser wrote in his ‘Five hundreth Goode Pointes of Husbandrie:
Some make the chimnie chamber pot to smell like Filthie stink,
Yet who so bold, so soone to say,
fough, how These houses stink? (Hibbert 1987, p. 201).
Cringing? Remember the people of Tudor England – despite their very human complexity – lived in a far simpler time to us. Plumbing in houses – if it did exist – was very primitive, though most homes of the well-to-do provided a type of inside toilet. Probably based on the same principle found in castles, a narrow, cell-like room was situated against the outer wall of a house. Found inside this room – called, amongst other things, the ‘jakes’ or garderobe – was a seat with a hole, placed over an internal shaft. The shaft was angled in such a way that human waste went down to an outside cesspool (Emerson 1996, p.54).
The monarch’s Privy Chamber is thought to come by its name because of its proximity to the royal ‘privy, their ‘little room, enclosing a ‘close stool, ‘ a boxed seat containing a fitted chamber pot. When Elizabeth I ventured out into her kingdom on one of her progresses, she took not only her portable bath but also her ‘portable’ loo, a closed stool, covered with lush, red velvet, befitting her rank of Queen. Her father also possessed a liking to have his ‘latrines’ velvet covered, his chamber pot or ‘jordan’ enclosed in a close- stool covered with black velvet, decorated by ribbons, fringe and a few glint-headed nails – two thousand to be exact (Hibbert 1987, p. 200).
To be attendant to this very necessary royal function was considered one of the important roles of the bedchamber. The maids who took care of the cloths Elizabeth used during menstruation were in the position of being bribed by not only foreign dignitaries, but also men part of the “Privy Council.’ Cecil himself kept himself informed about this very intimate part of Elizabeth’s life; the knowledge she functioned like a normal woman made him confident she could provide the country with an heir.
Toilet paper was unknown during these years. The expense of paper simply made it not an alternative. Tudor people used salt water and sticks with sponges or mosses placed at their tops, (Emerson 1996, p. 54) while royals probably used the softest lamb wool and cloths.
Returning back to the Tudor habit of using their fireplaces as chamber pots.I doubt very much that this happened at Elizabeth’s court. Despite the fact she could swear, spit and swill beer with the best of them, men were very respectful of her as their queen, and a virgin one at that. One man was so embarrassed he had farted in her presence he chose self-exile for seven years, causing her to remark with an amused glint on his return: ‘My lord, I had forgot the fart’ (Weir 1998, p. 257) But -putting aside the fact the Elizabeth did not take kindly to particular smells – Elizabeth had a strong code of personal cleanliness for this period, liking to bathe at least once a week. She encouraged similar behaviour in her courtiers – she didn’t hesitate to tell them that they stank.
In the closing years of her reign, her godson Sir John Harrington designed an early flush toilet. Elizabeth had one installed at Richmond palace, but most English people did not think much of the idea, and it was many, many years before English homes included such a thing (Hibbert 1987, p. 200).
Kathy Lynn Emerson, 1996. The Writer’s Guide to Everyday Life in Renaissance England (Writer’s Guides to Everyday Life). First Edition Edition. Writer’s Digest Books.
Christopher Hibbert, 1987. The English: A Social History, 1066-1945. Edition. Grafton Books.
Alison Weir, 1998. Elizabeth The Queen. Jonathan Cape.
- BBC2 builds on Richard III frenzy with Tudors season (guardian.co.uk)
- The King’s Damsel (Secrets of the Tudor Court #5) by Kate Emerson (romantichistoricallovers.wordpress.com)
- W.Va. museum examines early plumbing (mysanantonio.com)
- Our island must stop living in the Tudor past (thetimes.co.uk)
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