Although Galen’s mistaken views would dominate the field of medicine for 1,500 years, the continued popularity of medicinal cannibalism can be primarily attributed to the rise of an alternative medical doctrine initiated by Philippus Aureolus Theophrastus Bombastus von Hohenheim. Better known as Paracelsus (1493–1541), the Swiss physician is considered by some to be the Father of Chemical Pharmacology and Therapeutics, due to his pioneering use of substances like mercury, sulfur, and opium. He has also been called the world’s first toxicologist. Still, many of Paracelsus’s beliefs were founded on bizarre magic like alchemy, often infused with astrological mumbo-jumbo. Long after his death, his followers touted a medical philosophy that stressed the healing powers of the human body, but not in the manner we’re familiar with. Rather, Paracelsian physicians often prescribed medications made from human body parts. For example, they might give epileptics a potion containing powdered human skull, a substance that they believed did double duty as a cure for dysentery.
Richard Sugg, author of the 2011 book Mummies, Cannibals and Vampires: The History of Corpse Medicine from the Renaissance to the Victorian, writes that every imaginable body part was used, including “human liver . . . oil distilled from human brains, pulverized heart, bladder stones, warm blood, breast milk, and extract of gall.” Also popular in medicinal concoctions were bones, flesh, and fat, the latter applied to wounds or taken internally to treat rheumatism.
During the European Renaissance, the popularity of medicinal cannibalism may have begun within the great unwashed masses, but it was soon adopted as de rigueur by the enlightened, pious, and well-heeled. Upper-class types and even members of the British Royalty “applied, drank or wore” concoctions prepared from human body parts, and they continued to do so until the end of the 18th century. According to Sugg, “One thing we are rarely taught at school yet is evidenced in literary and historic texts of the time is this: James I refused corpse medicine; Charles II made his own corpse medicine; and Charles I was made into corpse medicine.”
Additional high-profile advocates of medicinal cannibalism included Francis I (King of France), Jacopo Berengario da Carpi (Italian anatomist), John Donne (poet and priest), Francis Bacon (pioneer of the scientific method), John Banister (surgeon to Elizabeth I), John Hall (physician and Shakespeare’s son-in-law), and Robert Boyle (natural philosopher, chemist, and inventor).
With an ever-increasing demand for human body parts, the popularity of public executions rose dramatically in the 17th century. The already-gruesome events became even gorier as the choicest cuts were harvested from prisoners, often while they were still alive. In what was described as a typical account from 1660 London, a prisoner has his “privy members cut off before his eyes” and “his bowels burned.” He was then decapitated and his head set on a pole. Finally his body was cut into quarters, perhaps to maximize its value when divvied up for medicinal purposes or displayed “upon some of the city gates.”
Human skulls not ground into powder were often left out in the air, where they served as the substrate for “skull moss”—a curative applied topically to stem bleeding and to treat disorders of the head. Researcher Paolo Modenesi believes that the term actually refers to a taxonomic assemblage of mosses and lichens.35 Renowned for their ability to thrive on bare rock, these organisms had little difficulty growing on the calcium-rich crania. Ideally, the moss from the skulls of hanged men was preferred but, according to naturalist and philosopher Robert James (1703–1776), Paracelsus believed that moss grown on the bodies of the unburied dead was quite acceptable. One set of directions showed just how easy it was to transform a skull into the medieval equivalent of a Chia Pet. The recipe called for the moss collected from a meadow in April to be dried and ground into a powder. This was sprinkled with a strong, sweet wine to form a paste, which was spread over “the cranium of a carcass that had been broken on the wheel.” Gardeners were advised to place their Chia skulls in the sun and warned to take them indoors when it rained.
The lichen Usnea humana, was also the main ingredient in a preparation called unguentum armarium, or “weapon ointment.” This preparation, which also contained human blood and fat, was employed in a bizarre medical treatment known as hoplochrisma (oplon = weapon, chrisma = salve). Those administering this procedure might bandage a wound, but would otherwise leave it untreated. They would use the ointment itself on either the weapon that had caused the injury (if available) or a wooden facsimile of it. Given the fact that hoplochrisma had no side effects, it might be classified as one of the most effective treatments available at the time, even if the benefits were simply a result of the placebo effect.
Perhaps the most famous example of European medicinal cannibalism was the curious custom of pulverizing mummies to produce a substance known as mumia. This was either consumed (often as a drink ingredient) or applied topically as a salve or in a cloth compress. Mumia was used in the treatment of ailments ranging from epilepsy and bruising to hemorrhaging and upset stomachs. The problem was that there were only a limited number of Egyptian mummies being sent to Europe, leading to shortages and legions of grumpy mummy fans. In response, a thriving cottage industry popped up to supply ersatz mumia. Reportedly, by the end of the 17th century the quality of bootleg mummy had gotten so bad that buyers were advised to “choose what is of a shining black, not full of bones and dirt, and of a good smell.”