Grim Realities Of Tudor Dental Practices

The Tudors are often remembered for their colourful monarchs, dramatic court intrigue, and stunning fashion, but you wouldn’t want to rely on them for dental advice. The state of oral health during the Tudor period, which took place between 1485–1603,  was, by modern standards, horrifying. Pain was constant, treatments were crude, and ideas about hygiene were miles off. Most people expected tooth loss, bad breath, and abscesses as part of life. And the so-called solutions often did more harm than good. Dental care in Tudor England was a bit of a nightmare, and you wouldn’t have wanted to grin for a portrait.

Sugar was a status symbol—with nasty side effects.

In Tudor England, sugar wasn’t just a rare treat—it was a sign of immense privilege. Imported in limited quantities from colonies and foreign traders, sugar was so expensive that it was only available to the upper classes. And they used it liberally. It wasn’t just sprinkled on desserts; it was crammed into elaborate banquets, used to preserve fruit, and even added to savoury dishes. Queen Elizabeth I’s fondness for sugary treats is well documented. Her teeth reportedly blackened and rotted with age, but the court followed her lead. Weirdly enough, black teeth were seen as fashionable because they implied wealth. The irony, of course, was that the wealthiest were often the ones with the worst oral health. Gum disease, loose teeth, and foul-smelling breath were common among the elite.

Toothbrushes weren’t a thing yet.

Toothbrushes, at least as we know them today, didn’t exist. Some people used chewed sticks, animal hair brushes, or rough cloths to scrub at their teeth. Others turned to powdered mixtures made from burnt rosemary, crushed seashells, chalk, or even brick dust. These might have given the illusion of cleanliness, but they often caused more damage than benefit, scraping away enamel and irritating gums. Scented herbs like mint or sage were also chewed to mask odours. But without any understanding of plaque or bacterial buildup, oral hygiene was more about appearance than prevention. Most people simply lived with chronic mouth pain and assumed it was part of getting older.

Toothache was a part of life.

A lingering, aching tooth wasn’t a minor nuisance in Tudor times—it was a daily torment. Rotten teeth, gum abscesses, and jaw infections were incredibly common, and there was very little anyone could do about it. Pain relief came in the form of herbal poultices, cloves, or spiced wines. Some chewed henbane or applied a paste made from crushed herbs and honey. Others relied on superstition, holding a toad bone against the cheek or sleeping with a charm under the pillow. But when home remedies failed (and they often did), most people were left to grit their teeth and suffer. Oral infections could spread, causing facial swelling, fevers, and even death if untreated.

Extractions were brutal and often botched.

Tooth removal was the go-to treatment when pain became unbearable. But there were no proper dentists, no anaesthesia, and no sterile instruments. Instead, people visited barbers, blacksmiths, or self-proclaimed tooth-drawers. These practitioners relied on forceps, pliers, and brute strength to rip the offending tooth from the mouth, often with disastrous consequences. The process was noisy, messy, and humiliating. Markets and fairs sometimes hosted tooth-pulling demonstrations as public entertainment. Infections were common, and many patients ended up with broken jaws or fragments of tooth left behind. There was no aftercare or antibiotics, only hope and homemade bandages. For many, this was the last resort after weeks or even months of unrelenting pain.

Dentistry and superstition were closely linked.

Science and superstition often coexisted in Tudor medicine, and dentistry was no exception. Many people believed toothache was caused by tiny worms burrowing into the teeth—an idea that dated back centuries. Remedies ranged from the harmless to the bizarre. Gums might be rubbed with garlic, vinegar, or salt to expel the “worms.” Others used hot needles to poke at abscesses, or inhaled fumes from burning herbs to drive out the pain. Amulets, prayers, and astrological charts were all part of the process, especially in rural areas where professional help was unavailable. The line between medicine and magic was thin, and most dental care fell somewhere between the two.

False teeth were a thing, but not a good one.

For those who’d lost too many teeth to chew properly, or simply didn’t want to appear toothless at court, false teeth were an option. But they were far from effective. Dentures could be made from carved animal bone, ivory, or even human teeth stolen from corpses or purchased from the poor. These false teeth were held in place with wires or ribbons, and they rarely fit comfortably. Eating while wearing them was often impossible, and many wearers only used them for show. Elizabeth I is rumoured to have worn false teeth in her later years, and portraits from that time suggest she kept her mouth mostly closed. Far from a solution, early dentures were a last-ditch effort to maintain social status.

Oral hygiene for the rich vs. everyone else was starkly different.

While the wealthy had access to exotic spices and imported ingredients to clean or scent their breath, the poor made do with whatever they had. Ash, salt, and vinegar were common, but not always effective. Many people had no dental hygiene routine at all. They lost teeth early, lived with gum disease, and dealt with daily pain. But ironically, because they couldn’t afford sugar, their teeth may have been in better shape overall than those of the nobility. In a strange twist, poverty sometimes offered a bit of protection against decay, though it came with its own host of health issues.

Dental care during the Tudor era was a grim blend of guesswork, folklore, and physical endurance.

From sugar-fuelled rot among the wealthy to brutal extractions at the hands of travelling tooth-drawers, oral health was a daily struggle for most. There were no clean tools, no pain relief worth the name, and little understanding of how to actually prevent problems. Whether you were a peasant with a mouth full of aching molars or a monarch hiding blackened gums behind a fan, there was no escaping the misery. It’s a vivid reminder that beneath the glittering gowns and grand feasts, life in the Tudor era was often as painful as it was dramatic.