Did Ancient Rome Have Street Sweepers?

The city of Rome was, for someone like the doctor Galen, an absolute dream. As he rather wrily pointed out (Galen. 7.235), being a doctor in Rome didn't require the studying of Hippocratic texts to identify the symptoms of infectious diseases; one could simply look out of the window at them.

There are plenty of reasons why this might be so, not least that Rome was by far the biggest city in the Classical world and, by extension, the most overcrowded. At its ancient peak, more than a million people crammed themselves between the city's walls, and whilst by the beginning of the 1st Century AD, Rome had been transformed from a city of brick to one of marble (Suet. Aug.29) it was still something of a squalid hellhole, particularly if one was unlucky enough to stray from the gloried thoroughfares.

On the northeastern slope of the Capitoline Hill, facing the Curia, stands the remains of the building now known as the Mamertime Prison. It was here that, in those pre-penal days, unfortunate sorts were held until their sentence was carried out. Outside the prison, running down the hill towards the Forum, were the Gemonian Stairs, and it was here that, perhaps out of convenience and almost certainly out of a sense of great drama, prisoners, particularly notable ones, were taken to be strangled to death. The doomed emperor Vitellius was dragged there, a dagger under his chin like a common criminal, and done away with. The plotter Sejanus, as a result of some unknown misadventure of which he was almost certainly guilty, was similarly brought to the top of the stairs, strangled to death, and then thrown down the stairs to lay, crumpled at the bottom.

Ordinarily, such a dramatic display would end up with the remains of the unfortunate being dragged by a hook to the Tiber, where they would be tossed in to have the river clean up the mess, but Sejanus, or what was left of him, lay at the bottom of the stairs for three days as passers-by took turns to stomp, kick and abuse the corpse. Packs of wild dogs and carrion crows feasted on his carcass. To add to the terror, they rounded up Sejanus' children and did the same to them. The brute tasked with executing Junilla, Sejanus' daughter, pointed out that she was a virgin and that executing a virgin was unprecedented. You can probably work out yourself how they let the executioner overcome that particular hurdle.

This horrific incident is of interest to us for one particular detail, namely that within a stone's throw of the Forum Caesaris, slap-bang in the middle of the most glorious city in the toga-wearing world, packs of wild dogs roamed the streets, feasting on carcasses. Presumably, then, they had plenty of food to keep them well-fed.

The question we are asking ourselves is simple - did the Romans have street sweepers? And, if they did, how did the system work? Did, eventually, some chaps with a barrow and some brooms come along, sweep up what was left of Sejanus and his family and cart them away?

The streets of ancient Rome were a convoluted network of thoroughfares, ranging from broad, well-paved avenues to narrow, winding alleyways. The city's main streets, such as the Via Sacra and the Via Appia, were constructed with large basalt paving stones designed to withstand the wear and tear of foot traffic, carts, and animals. These roads were often flanked by raised sidewalks, providing pedestrians with a degree of separation from the bustling traffic. However, not all streets were so well-maintained. Smaller side streets and alleys were often unpaved, prone to becoming muddy in rain and dusty in dry weather.

The streets were typically built with a slight camber to facilitate drainage, and gutters ran along the sides to channel rainwater and waste away from the main thoroughfares. Despite these features, the streets were far from pristine. The constant movement of people, animals, and goods meant that debris, waste, and filth were ever-present challenges.

The streets were a microcosm of urban life, reflecting the daily activities of its inhabitants. The types of waste found in the streets varied widely, ranging from household refuse to industrial by-products. Common forms of waste included:

• Household Refuse: Food scraps, broken pottery, and other domestic waste were often discarded in the streets. The lack of a formal waste collection system meant that many residents simply threw their rubbish out of their windows or doors.

• Animal Waste: Horses, mules, and other animals were integral to Roman transportation and commerce. Their droppings were a common sight, and smell, on the streets.

• Human Waste: While Rome had an extensive network of public latrines and sewers, not all residents had access to these facilities. Human waste was sometimes disposed of in the streets, particularly in poorer neighbourhoods.

• Industrial Waste: Artisans and merchants often discarded waste from their workshops and stalls directly into the streets. This included everything from metal shavings to textile scraps.

• Construction Debris: The constant building and rebuilding of structures in Rome generated significant amounts of debris, which often found its way into the streets.

The accumulation of waste poses significant challenges to urban cleanliness and public health. The presence of organic waste, in particular, created foul odours and attracted vermin, and vermin attracted predators, contributing to the spread of disease.

The question of whether ancient Rome had street sweepers is not easily answered. Unlike other aspects of Roman urban life, such as aqueducts or public baths, street cleaning has left little direct archaeological evidence. However, indirect evidence can be gleaned from a variety of sources.

Archaeological excavations in Pompeii provide some insight into Roman street maintenance. The streets of Pompeii were equipped with stepping stones, allowing pedestrians to cross without stepping in the muck that often accumulated in the gutters. These stones suggest a degree of planning and maintenance aimed at keeping the streets passable. Additionally, the presence of public fountains and water channels indicates that water was used to flush waste from the streets, a practice that may have been employed in Rome as well.

The presence of such features might suggest that they all served to keep the streets clean, but looked at another way, they can be seen as measures put in place to combat the tsunami of filth that the inhabitants had to deal with on a daily basis. Such measures might have been less about keeping the streets clean and more about stopping them from becoming unpassable.

Epigraphic evidence, though scarce, offers some clues. Inscriptions from Ostia, Rome's port city, mention the existence of collegia (guilds) responsible for various aspects of urban maintenance, including the cleaning of streets. While no direct reference to street sweepers has been found in Rome itself, the existence of such guilds in Ostia suggests that similar organisations may have operated in the capital.

Roman authors provide valuable if sometimes anecdotal, evidence regarding street cleanliness. The satirist Juvenal, writing in the early 2nd century CE, famously lamented the hazards of walking through Rome's streets. In his Satires, he describes the dangers of being hit by falling objects, including chamber pots emptied from upper-storey windows. While Juvenal's account is undoubtedly exaggerated for comedic effect, it highlights the challenges of maintaining cleanliness in a densely populated city.

More practical insights can be found in the writings of Vitruvius, a Roman architect and engineer. In his treatise De Architectura, Vitruvius emphasises the importance of proper drainage and waste disposal in urban planning. He advocated for the use of gutters and sewers to keep streets clean and dry, suggesting that these features were integral to Roman urban design.

The Roman statesman, philosopher and all-round asshole, Seneca, also provided a glimpse into the state of Rome's streets. In one of his letters, he describes the noise and filth of the city, contrasting it with the tranquillity of the countryside. While Seneca does not mention street sweepers specifically, his account underscores the pervasive nature of urban waste and the challenges of maintaining cleanliness.

The maintenance of Rome's streets was the responsibility of a combination of public officials and private workers. The aediles, magistrates tasked with overseeing public works and urban infrastructure, would have played a key role in ensuring the cleanliness of the streets. The aediles were responsible for a wide range of duties, including the maintenance of public buildings, markets, and streets. They had the authority to enforce regulations related to waste disposal and street cleaning, though the extent to which these regulations were enforced is unclear, as is the extent to which people were ordered or incentivised to do something about it, at least in a regular and orderly fashion.

In addition to the aediles, there may have been private contractors or guilds responsible for street cleaning. As mentioned earlier, inscriptions from Ostia suggest that guilds were involved in urban maintenance, and it is possible that similar organisations existed in Rome. These guilds would have employed workers to sweep the streets, remove waste, and perform other tasks related to urban cleanliness.

The use of slaves and lower-class labourers for street cleaning is also a possibility. In a society where manual labour was often performed by slaves or the urban poor, it is likely that these individuals were responsible for the day-to-day maintenance of the streets. However, the lack of direct evidence makes it difficult to determine the exact nature of their involvement.

Walking through the streets of ancient Rome would have been a sensory experience unlike any other. The city's narrow, winding streets were crowded with people, animals, and carts, creating a cacophony of sounds. The cries of street vendors, the clatter of hooves on stone, and the chatter of passers-by would have filled the air.

The smells of Rome's streets would have been equally intense. The combination of animal waste, rotting food, and human excrement would have created a pungent odour, particularly in the warmer months. The use of perfumes and incense by wealthier residents may have provided some relief, but for the average Roman, the stench of the streets would have been an inescapable part of urban life.

Visually, the streets were a mix of grandeur and squalor. The main thoroughfares, with impressive paving stones and monumental architecture, would have been relatively clean and well-maintained. In contrast, the smaller side streets and alleys would have been cluttered with waste and debris, reflecting the disparities in wealth and status that characterised Roman society.

The cleanliness—or lack thereof—of Rome's streets had a significant impact on daily life. For the wealthy, who could afford to live in well-maintained neighbourhoods and travel in litters or carriages, the filth of the streets may have been a minor inconvenience. For the poor, however, the state of the streets was a constant reminder of their lowly status.

Public health was also a major concern. The accumulation of waste in the streets created ideal conditions for the spread of disease. Outbreaks of illnesses such as dysentery and typhoid were common in ancient Rome, and the lack of effective waste disposal systems would have exacerbated these problems.

Despite these challenges, the Romans made efforts to maintain a degree of cleanliness in their city. The use of water to flush waste from the streets, the presence of public latrines, and the enforcement of waste disposal regulations all indicate a recognition of the importance of urban hygiene. However, the sheer size and population density of Rome meant that these efforts were often insufficient to keep the streets truly clean.

Archaeological evidence from Pompeii also indicates that waste was regularly collected and disposed of outside the city walls. Large refuse dumps have been found on the outskirts of the city, containing everything from household rubbish to construction debris. This suggests that Pompeii had a more organised system of waste disposal than Rome, where the sheer volume of waste may have overwhelmed the city's infrastructure. Middens are common in archaeological contexts and incredibly valuable, and they suggest that someone was taking refuse and disposing of it in a centralised area for what must be no other reason than tidying up. To what extent they did this to avoid contamination is another matter, but people certainly tidied up their own mess. How organised this was and whether there were people tasked with performing these duties is uncertain.

As mentioned earlier, inscriptions from Ostia provide evidence of guilds involved in urban maintenance, including street cleaning. These guilds, known as collegia, were responsible for a wide range of tasks, from repairing buildings to maintaining public spaces. The existence of such guilds in Ostia suggests that similar organisations may have operated in Rome, though direct evidence is lacking.

The involvement of guilds in urban maintenance highlights the importance of collective action in maintaining cleanliness. In a city as large and complex as Rome, the task of keeping the streets clean would have required the coordination of numerous individuals and groups. The collegia of Ostia provides a model for how this might have been achieved in Rome, though the specifics remain unclear.

If we were to call Rome a dirty city, we should be aware that we would be doing so principally through standards which never occurred to the Romans. In then looking for abuses of those standards, we must be aware that we are setting a bar of 'cleanliness' that exists only in our own perception. In calling Romans' filthy', we are setting a benchmark that is entirely arbitrary and one that never applied to them in their own time. We might be saying that they fell short of a level on a scale that is ours and not theirs, but we should be aware that their environmental perception was entirely different to our own. They weren't aware of the threat of disease that much of the waste they generated posed to their health and so can hardly be called 'dirty' when they allowed themselves to be exposed to it. One cannot call the dinosaurs stupid because they had no idea what an asteroid was.

In other respects, we note that the Romans were well aware of the dangers of exposing open wounds to the waters of public baths, but we dismiss this with an airy 'well, duh!' wave of our hands. Saying that the streets of Rome were filthy might be true, and the Romans were well aware of how unpleasant they were, but we shouldn't assume that they just didn't care about the risks and were, therefore, 'dirty' themselves.

References and Further Reading

• Beard, M. (2015). SPQR: A History of Ancient Rome. Profile Books.

• Casson, L. (1998). Everyday Life in Ancient Rome. Johns Hopkins University Press.

• Juvenal. (2004). The Satires. Oxford University Press.

• Laurence, R. (1994). Roman Pompeii: Space and Society. Routledge.

• Seneca. (2015). Letters from a Stoic. Penguin Classics.

• Vitruvius. (2009). De Architectura. Harvard University Press.

• Aldrete, G. S. (2004). Daily Life in the Roman City: Rome, Pompeii, and Ostia. Greenwood Press.

• Robinson, O. F. (1992). Ancient Rome: City Planning and Administration. Routledge.

• Scobie, A. (1986). "Slums, Sanitation, and Mortality in the Roman World." Klio.

• Suetonius. (2007). The Twelve Caesars (R. Graves, Trans.). Penguin Classics.

• Galen. (2003). On the Natural Faculties (A. J. Brock, Trans.). Loeb Classical Library.