The statement of the historian Michelet, therefore, that Percival, Iseult, and the other ethereal personages of mediaeval times “certainly never washed” (La Sorciere, p. 110) requires some qualification.

In 1292 there were twenty-six bathing establishments in Paris, and an attendant would go through the streets in the morning announcing that they were ready.  One could have a vapor bath only or a hot bath to succeed it, as in the East.  No woman of bad reputation, leper, or vagabond was at this time allowed to frequent the baths, which were closed on Sundays and feast-days.  By the fourteenth century, however, the baths began to have a reputation for immorality, as well as luxury, and, according to Dufour, the baths of Paris “rivaled those of imperial Rome:  love, prostitution, and debauchery attracted the majority to the bathing establishments, where everything was covered by a decent veil.”  He adds that, notwithstanding the scandal thus caused and the invectives of preachers, all went to the baths, young and old, rich and poor, and he makes the statement, which seems to echo the constant assertion of the early Fathers, that “a woman who frequented the baths returned home physically pure only at the expense of her moral purity.”

In Germany there was even greater freedom of manners in bathing, though, it would seem, less real licentiousness.  Even the smallest towns had their baths, which were frequented by all classes.  As soon as the horn blew to announce that the baths were ready all hastened along the street, the poorer folk almost completely undressing themselves before leaving their homes.  Bathing was nearly always in common without any garment being worn, women attendants commonly rubbed and massaged both sexes, and the dressing room was frequently used by men and women in common; this led to obvious evils.  The Germans, as Weinhold points out (Die Deutschen Frauen im Mittelalter, 1882, bd. ii, pp. 112 et seq.), have been fond of bathing in the open air in streams from the days of Tacitus and Caesar until comparatively modern times, when the police have interfered.  It was the same in Switzerland.  Poggio, early in the sixteenth century, found it the custom for men and women to bathe together at Baden, and said that he seemed to be assisting at the floralia of ancient Rome, or in Plato’s Republic.  Senancour, who quotes the passage (De l’Amour, 1834, vol. i, p. 313), remarks that at the beginning of the nineteenth century there was still great liberty at the Baden baths.

Of the thirteenth century in England Thomas Wright (Homes of Other Days, 1871, p. 271) remarks:  “The practice of warm bathing prevailed very generally in all classes of society, and is frequently alluded to in the mediaeval romances and stories.  For this purpose a large bathing-tub was used.  People sometimes bathed immediately after rising in the morning, and we find the bath used after dinner and before