Perhaps the strangest, most bizarre myth about menstruation is theory of the wandering womb. Medieval physicians understood that monthly uterine bleeding could cause some discomfort, such as cramps and nausea, to the woman. So the theory developed that other pains were also a result of the uterus, or womb, whether it was in the abdomen or not. Aches and agonies throughout the body must be the result of the womb “travelling” to that area and wrecking its havoc. Seriously! If a woman had an earache or headache, it must be because the womb had migrated to the head. Sore throat? Pesky womb must be in the neck area. Falling arches? Yep, the womb must have gone south. Heart palpitations? You got it! Blame the womb.
Debates raged during this period of history as to whether the womb was a stationary organ or a well-travelled troublemaker. If a woman miscarried, it could be because the womb was in the wrong place when the birthing time came ‘round. If she had trouble conceiving, perhaps the womb was dodging the seed. All that moving around within the body could cause some strain on the womb which could lead to hysteria, a common female complaint that translates to the “madness of the womb”.
Doctors, even the ones who denounced the theory of the wandering womb, mostly agreed that hysteria occurred when the womb became too full of secretions that were not being released, thus poisoning the body. The prescribed treatment? More sex! The more the better, in fact. Being sexually compliant and submissive to one’s husband, they believed, was the best way to maintain feminine health. Besides, pregnancy would temporarily cure menstrual ailments.
And if that didn’t work, then veins were cut open on the woman’s feet or legs to release the “excess” blood that was somehow trapped in the uterus. In the pre-antiseptic Middle Ages, bloodletting as a “cure” was fraught with risks.
Yes, medieval men have been rather skittish when it comes to womanly bleeding. Menstruation was eyed with fear and disgust, attitudes which were transferred into myths and misconceptions. And in keeping with the prevailing beliefs of the time, these misconceptions contained more than a hint of misogyny. Menstruation, rather than being viewed as a requirement for procreation, was seen as a byproduct of the sinister, evil, wicked ways of Eve, and therefore, the rest of womankind.
Proto-Stayfree, Midol and Tampax: Medieval Feminine Hygiene Products
“Whose names stink worser than your menstr’ous Rags!”
Long before manufacturers started marketing disposable tampons and pads for the cleanliness and convenience of their menstruating female patrons, there was a need for products to lessen the mess associated with the monthly visit from Aunt Flo. Of course, a medieval maiden couldn’t just run down to the local pharmacy for a box of tampons when she started her period. They had to be a bit more ingenious than that. That usually meant using whatever resources were available to craft a medieval version of the common feminine hygiene product we find on drug store shelves today — pads and tampons.
While there was a need for tampons and pads in medieval times, it may not have been as pressing a need as we would think. Scholars believe that women menstruated less in the Middle Ages. Poor nutrition and hard, laborious work meant less body fat on a medieval maiden and less body fat means fewer periods.
Additionally, women often endured long periods of fasting, either to demonstrate religious devotion or as penitence for some misdeed. The near starvation that resulted from the fasting also impeded regular periods. Also, many women were either perpetually pregnant or nursing infant children. In many cases, breast-feeding lessens the frequency and flow of menstrual discharge.
Lastly, while medieval maidens reached puberty at around 12 to 14 years of age, menopause came earlier with many women experiencing the trademark hot flashes in their mid- to late-thirties. All of these factors were in play during the Middle Ages, and culminated in fewer monthly visitors and a lighter flow.
Because the prevailing biblical view of the time held that women suffered from their monthly visitor as a direct result of Eve’s sinful disobedience and apple snacking in the Garden of Eden, women in the Middle Ages didn’t seek to stop the flow of Aunt Flo. They did, however, look for ways to minimize the stains to their clothing and bedding. Much like today, medieval maidens had two options to choose from regarding feminine hygiene; 1) they could find something to absorb the blood before it leaves the vagina (proto-tampons), or 2) they could use something to catch the flow after the blood exits the body (proto-pads).
Early tampons were not much different than those we use today. Cotton or some other absorbent material was rolled up or wound around a small twig and inserted into the vagina. One popular medieval instructions for make-your-own tampons read:
Take half a drachma of treacle diatesseron, the same amounts of cockle flour and myrrh, and grind them together with bull’s gall in which savin or rue has been rotted. Then cover the mixture with cotton and thereof make a suppository as large as your little finger and put it in your privy member, but first annoint it with clean honey and oil together, sprinkle powder of scammony on it, and put it in the privy member; one can do the same with lupin root, and that is much better.
Occasionally, these homemade tampons got lost in the depths of a woman’s nether-region, therefore a string was tied around the tampon and around the menstruating woman’s thigh. This way, the woman could retrieve the cotton wad and she could still go about her normal activities without having a string hanging out of her vagina.
We don’t call pads “rags” for nothing! In ancient times through the Middle Ages, women used rags and scrap fabric to soak up her menstrual messes. Cotton was preferred due to its ability to absorb fluid, unlike wool which repels liquid (and is really itchy). But cotton, indeed all fabric, was hard to come by for medieval peasants; therefore women sought more readily available materials. Some varieties of moss, particularly sphagnum cymbifolium, were used as a filling for makeshift sanitary pads (though I doubt they were very sanitary!). Commonly called bog moss, this plant grew throughout England and was used as both for toilet paper and to stop bleeding battle wounds during wartime skirmishes.
Historians, focusing their attention on the bog moss’s noble and manly function as a battlefield Band-Aid, credit the plant’s other popular nickname, blood moss, to this use, but it is equally likely that the blood moss earned its moniker by sopping up menstrual blood. Not as glamorous an etymology but much less misogynist than the first.
No matter the material, bloody rags needed to be cleaned. Washing menstrual waste from improvised feminine napkins was just one more unpleasant task assigned to medieval females. The other problem with rags is that they don’t stay in place, especially in the commando-era Middle Ages. Without some sort of panty, belt, or girdle, the rag would drop to the ground… damn, gravity!
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Here’s a funny side story: An anonymous book was written about Whipping Tom around 1681. According to a passage in this book,
Basically, several attacks were made on unescorted women in London and nearby Hackney. The attacker, seeing a woman on the streets without a male protector, would run up to her and paddle her on the buttocks then flee! The Hackney spanker swatted about 70 women, sometimes with his bare hand and sometimes with a birch rod, before his capture. As motive, he declared he was “resolved to be Revenged on all the women he could come at after that manner, for the sake of one Perjur’d Female, who had been Barbarously False to him.” His name, Thomas Wallis, gave rise to the nickname Whipping Tom, but there is evidence the term was used earlier. In 1681, a would-be attacker hid in the alleyways of London waiting for an unaccompanied lady to walk by. He would pounce, lift her skirt to her waist and paddle her bare bottom, sometimes yelling “Spanko!” as he did it.
He would disappear so quickly after the attacks that he was able to do his work undetected. The public railed the London police for their failure to catch the spanker so groups of men forms vigilant mobs and roamed the streets. Some of these men even dresses in women’s clothing and walk the area, serving as decoys — homely, muscular, big-boned decoys.
Apparently Whipping Tom was not fooled and chose to paddle only actual females. We wonder what his reaction would have been had he lifted the skirt of a menstruating woman and exposed his hand to her makeshift sanitary napkin! Eventually, a local storekeeper was caught and tried for the attacks, as is detailed in the anonymously written book,