When Alley and I visited Rome a few years ago, there was a lot to see. The Coliseum beckons to any martial artist: combat of all sorts was on full display, and you can see where the gladiators got ready to fight. You can get an idea of how they felt.
Here we are, looming above the guts of the great building:
We learned about the velarium the Romans used to cover all of the seats, just in case there was rain or too much sun. We got to imagine them unrolling this preposterously sized umbrella with a series of 240 wooden masts.
We were fascinated by stories of them flooding the Coliseum so that massive naval battles could be reenacted before 50,000 spectators.
We learned of the intricate network of tunnels under the floor, where gladiators or (yuck) large, intimidating animals could surprise the crowd by quickly appearing above.
But what we were really interested in was how the Romans pooped. More specifically, we were riveted with how they dealt with poop.
Why? Well, the system of sanitation isn’t typically one of the achievements most folks will call out when describing ancient Rome. They might point to a republic that lasted two and a half centuries. Maybe they’re impressed with a culture that remained influential for two thousand years.
Yet, what the Romans did with sanitation remains incredibly important… and incredibly fascinating. It also tells us as much about how people lived as anything else.
Our guide at the Coliseum was excellent. She brought us down to where they did their business, a place that looked sort of like this:
If you’re anything like me, you started doing “poop math” just now. You’re wondering how it all works.
Never fear! That’s what you’re here for.
Romans would do their business in a room like this, reminiscent of a football or baseball stadium with open rows of urinals… only these had the job of catching more than just urine. Rome’s sewer system, the Cloaca Maxima, would then wash the doodies away.
Well, some of the time that happened. Other times, you had to wait for rain to clear the pipes below.
What about toilet paper? Alas, the Romans took a different approach: a stick with a sea-sponge at the end of it. The tersorium would then sit in a bucket of vinegar before the next person used it, so go ahead and stop worrying about hygiene! They had it all covered.
I’m kidding. This was super duper gross.
Roman citizens would sometimes need to go number two in the street, too. This was because there were about 150 public restrooms, but a growing population approaching a million really put a strain on this.
Wealthier Romans, naturally, had their own latrines, subject to the same potential clogging and waiting that the public ones faced, but with considerably more privacy and dignity. Still, few among us would choose a chamber-pot or private latrine over most 21st century public restrooms.
There’s a lot more to say about sanitation in the ancient world, but please consider this to be my opening salvo. Poop is fascinating, and sanitation is the unsung hero of population growth over time.
Over the years & many thanks to Uncle Sam, I've found myself "downloading paperwork" in better and worse conditions than those pictured. Camp T. Brady Saunders, in Maidens, VA had outhouses consisting of steel toilet style cans on a concrete pad. The barracks at VMI (2000-2004) had half-height stalls with saloon doors, so you were had ample opportunity for awkward eyecontact. The WWII era barracks at both Ft. Liberty (formerly Bragg) & Ft. Barfoot (formerly Pickett), didn't have stalls or doors, just a row of toilets on opposite walls. Thankfully the rooms were wide enough your knees didn't touch. After years of hearing the phrase "built like a brick shit house" from my grandfather, a veteran of WWII & Korea, who worked for the health department on the eastern shore, I found one in Afghanistan. Solid brick! I spent a night there in 2005 praying food poisoning would kill me. That same year, I found myself filling an MRE bag due to a lack of options ahead of an operation attempting to surprise the bad guys. To this day, they are likely less surprised than we were frustrated. Port-a-potties in the Kuwaiti desert when the temps are still above 100 degrees at 2am local time remain a nightmare I prefer to avoid. The Romans were definitely on the right path. Flush toilets are wonderous!
My son threw a tantrum on the Colosseum floor when we visited Rome. 🤣 he just laid there looking up and crying as it rained.
This isn’t where I thought this article was going. 😂 But I am thankful for the sanitation that exists today.