When people ate mummies: the strange history of corpse medicine in Europe

For several centuries, many Europeans believed that the right cure for headaches, bruises or even epilepsy might be found in human remains. Powdered mummy, ground skull and even human fat were sold in respectable pharmacies, prescribed by learned doctors and swallowed by patients who saw nothing especially shocking about it.

This forgotten practice, often called “corpse medicine,” sounds like pure horror to us today. Yet it reveals how differently earlier societies thought about the body, healing and even death itself.

How mummies became medicine

The story begins with imported Egyptian mummies. From the Middle Ages into the early modern period, merchants brought wrapped bodies from ancient tombs to European ports. At first, these mummies were curiosities, collected by the wealthy as exotic artifacts.

Over time, though, they became ingredients. Many European healers believed in a concept called “mumia,” a dark, tar-like substance that supposedly came from bodies preserved with bitumen. Bitumen was thought to have powerful healing and preservative qualities, so consuming a bit of “mumia” seemed like taking in a concentrated medicine.

What people actually consumed

By the 16th and 17th centuries, apothecaries could stock several types of human-derived remedies. Some were imported and ancient, others were disturbingly fresh.

• Powdered mummy:Ground fragments of desiccated bodies, sold as a brownish powder. It was mixed into drinks, ointments and sometimes wine.
• Human skull:Shavings from a skull, ideally from someone who died violently, were believed to treat headaches, epilepsy and internal bleeding.
• Human fat:Collected from executed criminals, rendered and used in salves for joint pain and wounds.

Recipes appeared in medical texts alongside plant-based herbs and minerals. Although not everyone used them, these substances were not fringe curiosities. They circulated in mainstream medical culture, especially in parts of Germany, France and England.

Why it made sense to them

Several beliefs helped make corpse medicine feel reasonable for many early modern Europeans. One was the long-standing idea that “like cures like”: the qualities of a substance could balance or repair similar qualities in the body.

Blood and flesh were associated with vitality and warmth. If someone suffered from weakness or blood loss, then a concentrated form of “life” in another person’s body might help restore balance. Violent death was sometimes seen as leaving behind potent life force that could be tapped for healing.

There was also a spiritual dimension. The boundary between spiritual and physical remedies was blurred. Some people thought God had hidden powerful medicines everywhere in creation, even in bones and decayed flesh. Using them was not automatically seen as disrespectful to the dead, especially if the remains came from criminals or anonymous bodies.

Who used corpse medicine

The practice cut across social class. Wealthy patients might order expensive preparations from elite physicians, while poorer people could buy cheaper versions from local apothecaries or healers.

Notable scholars and doctors wrote seriously about human-based remedies. Others objected, arguing on religious or moral grounds that such medicines were unholy or unclean. Some critics also doubted whether the expensive imported “mummy” was real at all, suspecting that merchants were selling fake mixtures of resin and animal remains.

Debate did not immediately end the trade. As long as some patients believed they felt better, and as long as respected authorities defended the practice, corpse medicine kept its place in the pharmacopoeia.

The slow disappearance of corpse medicine

Several forces eventually undermined the appeal of human remains as remedies. Growing anatomical knowledge shifted attention toward how the body functioned rather than what mystical powers its parts might contain.

Religious attitudes also changed. Protestant and Catholic reform movements both encouraged more respect for burial and greater suspicion of relics and bodily fragments. At the same time, new plant-based and chemical drugs became more available, offering alternatives that did not require disturbing graves or bodies.

By the 18th and 19th centuries, corpse medicine had largely faded from mainstream European practice, though some remedies persisted longer in folk traditions. As it disappeared, people increasingly reclassified it not as medicine, but as superstition or barbaric curiosity.

What this strange practice reveals about the past

Corpse medicine can seem like pure horror from a modern perspective, but treating it only as a grotesque story misses its deeper meaning. It reminds us that medical ideas are historically rooted and shaped by culture, religion and available knowledge.

Early modern Europeans lived in a world where death was more visible, bodies were less hidden and the line between the living and the dead felt thinner. In that context, using human remains as medicine could feel like a natural extension of beliefs about sacrifice, relics and the power of the body.

Looking back at this unsettling chapter of history can make us more aware of our own medical assumptions. Future generations may look at some of today’s treatments with the same mix of fascination and horror that we now direct at powdered mummy and skull shavings.