The following is a precis of something I have been reading this week.

As we all know, Pompeii and Herculaneum were famously destroyed in AD79, and the subsequent lava flows submerged the two towns. Digging at Herculaneum has revealed a marvellous public sewer system. Latrines in private properties were directly connected to the sewer, and it was a very sophisticated indeed. Rainwater for instance was able to drain into the sewer, and nearly all shops and tavernas were connected to the system.

Of 41 private houses excavated, 28 of them had one or more latrines. The puzzle is that all the toilets are located next to the kitchen or set further back in the servants quarters. The archaeological thinking is that the latrines were used as a kitchen waste-disposal (as well as the toilet function) and that the wealthy owners would use a private commode in their own apartments (emptied by a slave of course).

Interestingly, many of the tavernas, laundries and bakeries had a latrine at their entrance. We still,don't know if this was for the benefit of the clients or the people working there. What we do know is that this level of public sanitation was not equalled until the 20th century.

Hatshepsut wrote:

Interestingly, many of the tavernas, laundries and bakeries had a latrine at their entrance. We still,don't know if this was for the benefit of the clients or the people working there. 

Wasn't urine a profitable commodity? I'm sure I read somewhere the Romans even taxed the stuff! The clients could relieve themselves on entry, and the owners of the businesses flog the urine thus collected!

Yes, you're right. We saw the excavated laundry at Pompeii and the guide definitely said that urine was used to wash togas (some sort of bleaching agent?) so there would be a commercial element to collecting wee.

There is further reading if you want the full details: the paper was written by Domenico Camardo and Mario Notamista.

One thing I forgot to mention, and think is rather funny, is that the ancients wrote graffiti on the lav walls (as people do today) and one bit says

"Apollinaris, medicus Titi imperatoris hic cacavit bene"

which means that Apollinaris, doctor to the emperor Titus, evacuated his bowels here satisfactorily.

Possibly not bettered until later, Hats, but pre-empted by a very sophisticated system in Indus valley cities. Mohemjo Daro, as it is now called had street sewage and drainage systems with house toilets and I saw one jolly cosy little row of toilet seats close by a major road there in an artisan area. Circa 1800 BC the grid lay out and organisation of water from wells, a great bath, and a network of drainage throughout were probably constructed in a 180 year span of great order - and wealth..... alas no graffiti and I am not sure the picto type script has been translated.

Priscilla wrote:

Possibly not bettered until later, Hats, but pre-empted by a very sophisticated system in Indus valley cities. Mohemjo Daro, as it is now called had street sewage and drainage systems with house toilets and I saw one jolly cosy little row of toilet seats close by a major road there in an artisan area. Circa 1800 BC the grid lay out and organisation of water from wells, a great bath, and a network of drainage throughout were probably constructed in a 180 year span of great order - and wealth..... alas no graffiti and I am not sure the picto type script has been translated.

Priscilla,

I know that you are very knowledgeable about India and its ancient culture. Can you expand a bit about that Mohemjo Daro sewer system?
And the Indus Valley culture seems to have disappeared in a relatively short time, without much trace in the later history...the latest that I read was that one of the main causes were environmental... is there some news on that due to new findings...?

And BTW Priscilla and Hatsheput about the Romans...I saw I think in the Roman museum of Lyon a kind of device: one had to put a coin in the slot of that device to activate a level to open I don't remember what..the door to the bathrooms and the toilets?...on internet such a detail is nearly imposible to find back...it can have been also that I saw it in the Roman museum of Augsburg...

Kind regards to both of you from Paul.

Pecunia non olet ("money does not stink") is a Latin saying. When Vespasian's son, Titus, complained about the tax on urine when it was sold to the fullers, his father threw him a gold coin, asking "Does this stink?"
"No"
"Well it comes from urine"
(according to Suetonius.)

If Herculaneum had the majority of its latrines directly connected to the sewer system it was pretty unique - the Roman system in towns and cities, for both public and private latrines, tended to rely primarily on "dry" cesspits, and some of these were of impressive size indeed. In fact one in Herculaneum excavated about ten years ago yielded 774 sacks of human waste which some lucky archaeologists are presently sifting through (100 down with 674 to go at the last count).

The cesspit system added an element of excitement and terror to spending a sestertius sadly absent in our own sanitary society - Romans, probably very understandably, had a whole range of demons and evil spirits that they knew by name and who resided solely in these pits, especially in those directly beneath communal latrines. Things these demons got up to included suddenly biting unsuspecting bums and dangly bits (rats and other vermin helping out on occasion of course), spraying patrons occasionally with old excrement from beneath (sudden gas releases from the accumulated crap sending the contents flying upwards with some force), and even inflicting third degree burns on some poor unfortunates' more sensitive body parts (hydrogen sulphide H2S and methane CH4 leading, when mixed, to some very impressive spontaneous combustion explosions).

Even where the cesspits were placed at a distance from the latrine as part of a more complicated sewage arrangement, using water to flush waste and carry it to collection sumps, the average Roman still had some rather odd problems to contend with - Aelian recounted a story about a wealthy Iberian merchant living in Puteoli who, after already having punished his slaves for regularly stealing his food but with no respite from thievery as a result, found in the end that the culprit was in fact an octopus who had learnt to navigate the system, half emerge from the latrine in the kitchen, and help himself to whatever goodies were within reach (a worryingly large amount of foodstuff being stored by the latrine apparently).

Such stories tally with what excavations also show as the normal configuration that Romans seemed to favour most within larger towns - private houses opted for private cesspits, apartment blocks used communal cesspits, sometimes with water assisted drainage from the latrines down to these communal cavities, and public latrines tended either to sit directly over large cesspits (no doubt emptied by public slaves, though who managed these is still something of a mystery) or if near a good water supply a system much as apartments also used, with a cesspit at some remove (like the rather well preserved one at Ostia below) and some type of managed water flow to carry the waste to be deposited there.

nordmann wrote:

... the culprit was in fact an octopus who had learnt to navigate the system, half emerge from the latrine and...

That rustic epistle from Aelian has really got to me. My cottage has a large, old-fashioned septic tank (proper tank, like the Romans, not a new-fangled onion thing) and, although I have no fear of marauding octopi/octopuses/octopedes, I shall now worry about about grass snakes appearing in the loo: we get a lot of them around here. Although harmless, they are still snakes - and they are excellent swimmers.  

Thank you, nordmann: your erudition may always be relied on to unsettle one.

I would hope that any septic tank installation performed in the last few centuries (how "old-fashioned is yours?) would have at least one trap in the plumbing. Traps prevent noxious gases from the tank making their way back up the system, so most systems will actually have several of these. They are also pretty effective barriers against wildlife making its way up through the system too, though a determined grass snake with a good sense of direction and a lot of patience could certainly take on such an expedition.

The Romans, despite their considerable engineering prowess in so many areas, seemed never to have grasped the simple concept of the U-bend, the most basic of traps. Modern systems also use P- and S-bends (made compulsory in Britain after the Great Stink of 1858), drums, cylinders, and a variety of internal sculpted surfaces within pipes to deter adventurous grass snakes or similar from setting out on such an epic journey.

I don't want to unduly alarm anyone but even with modern u-bends and other traps it is not unknown for snakes to make their way up from the sewer system into a toilet:

The Guardian 5/9/2017 - Taking the hiss: baby python found in toilet in Southend, Essex

"Laura Cowell’s toilet had been blocked for several days and had been draining slowly, but it was only when her five-year-old son lifted its lid last week that they discovered the source of the problem – a 3ft (91cm) royal python trapped in the porcelain."

Or from Australia, NDTV 21/1/2019 - Family Shocked To Find Huge Python Inside Their Toilet

I actually feel sorry for poor Reggie - getting scale rot in his tail  (caused by the loo-bloo) must have been awful for him. I hope he shed his skin satisfactorily and is now all nice and scaly again.

But I could have done without the the picture, MM. 

Funnily enough - with all the "lemures" and "larvæ" that inhabited the sewers and toilets of Roman imagination, some of whom were right evil little buggers indeed, the practice was to invoke one's personal "lararia" to accompany one on a visit to the toilet. The most effective "anti-demonic lares" for this job was in fact the "pythos" and cute, if crude, little statues of the snake made from clay and cheap metals have been found in several excavated cesspits, enough to suggest that they didn't just fall in but were intentionally hurled into the crap by devout Romans to clear it of all potential supernatural threat before getting down to business. To a Roman the emergence of an actual python from the depths would therefore have led to some very mixed feelings indeed.