The Catacombs of Palermo, or, by their proper name, the crypts under the Capuchin monastery of Santa Maria della Pace in Palermo, Sicily, house the most prodigious collection of mummies in Europe. Its origins date back to 1599 when the first specimen, Brother Silvester de Gubbio, was placed in an underground vault, along with the scattered remains of monks brought from a previous convent. For roughly the next three centuries, the Order’s brothers worked to preserve the bodies of their companions, as well as several esteemed local figures, by placing the prepared corpses in the ever-expanding underground passages. Mummification eventually became a kind of cottage industry and a means of sustaining the monastery; in its eventual form, the site included extensive sections for both clergy and laity, and areas reserved for professionals, women, children, and even virgins.

However, the term “mummification” should be qualified: calling the bodies of Palermo mummies is somewhat generous, as many of them are little more than skeletons, held together by small pieces of dried meat and ligament. The preservation media developed by the monks involved an application of arsenic to prevent the growth of bacteria, followed by dehydration. The corpses (which had been packed with straw) were placed on slats in a colatoio (“drying room”) below the monastery, to allow the tuff subsoil to naturally dry them out as far as possible. The process took between eight months and a year, and the results were often dubious and sometimes horrifying – that is, until Dr. Alfredo Salafia came along and perfected a mummification process that produced specimens that have never been rivaled.

Salafia was born into a military family in 1869, but little documentation of his early life exists. He trained as a doctor and eventually obtained a position at the University of Palermo, where he began a series of embalming experiments, working with unclaimed bodies from local morgues. By devising his own methods, he gained a favorable reputation due to the pristine condition of their corpses and in 1902 he was asked to restore the remains of the late Italian Prime Minister Francesco Crespi. The body had been entrusted to a team of embalmers in Naples who had prepared and shipped it to Crespi’s native Sicily, but their work proved inadequate, resulting in adipocere, or what is sometimes called “grave wax.” , an accumulated wax of fatty acids. on the face and internal organs of the body, which may turn gray or tan.

The disfigurement produced by the condition was not thought to be reversible, but Salafia worked for months on Crespi’s corpse and completely restored his appearance, using paraffin injections to reshape the facial features and meticulously reattaching the strands of hair and beard that they had come loose. The result was a public triumph: it obtained its first great renown when pilgrimages were organized to see Crespi’s body. Salafia’s reputation grew even further when he was asked to handle another high-profile corpse, that of the Archbishop of Palermo, Cardinal Michelangelo Celesia, who died in 1904. His immaculate preservation of Celesia was considered a sensation; the archbishop was exposed in the Palermo catacombs for five years until he was finally transferred to the cathedral, still looking so fresh that he was described as looking like “a man who is asleep.”

The wealthy citizens of Palermo quickly flocked to Salafia to make arrangements for the preservation of their loved ones for display in the Catacombs. At the beginning of the 20th century, the preparation of corpses by monks had been stopped due to a local hygiene ordinance that had prohibited the use of colotaium. But Salafia’s method not only provided an opportunity for the body to prepare for display, it produced flawless results that had never been seen before. Until the end of his life, Salafia kept his working methods a secret, but it is known that he used a complex series of injections, including alcohol to dehydrate the body, formalin to kill bacteria, glycerin to prevent the body from becoming too dry, salicylic. acid to kill fungus and zinc salts to give stiffness.

Eventually, he marketed a ready-made solution that he called “Salafia Perfection Fluid.” Sold in both Italy and the United States, he claimed that injections of this liquid alone could produce exquisite corpses. Regardless of the methods he used, the bodies he prepared for the Palermo Catacombs between the turn of the century and his own death in 1933 are uncorrupted to this day, showing no visible signs of deterioration. In contrast to the tacky macabre dance that surrounds them, the Salafian mummies are in perfect repose, with gleaming skin and a lively countenance. One, a former American legacy, still has a perfect curl on his handlebar mustache.

Of the bodies that Salafia preserved for the Catacombs, it is little Rosalia Lombardo who surpasses the fame of all the others. It has been called “Sleeping Beauty” and “The Most Beautiful Mummy in the World”, among other names. Rosalía died on December 6, 1920, and was most likely groomed by Salafia during the end of that year or early the next. The girl, the daughter of a police general, succumbed to pneumonia at the age of two. Salafia had already been practicing her craft for at least two decades, and the girl, among the last mummies admitted to the catacombs, represents the work of a master at the height of his powers. It has not been restored with one hand since Salafia prepared it, but her face is still fresh, like that of a girl in a light sleep.

Her sandy blonde hair is playfully tied in a bun, and a faint smile lights up the visitor’s gaze: interaction with this nearly century-old corpse seems casual, natural, and intimate. Rosalía, still so pristine and endearing, has gathered a small army of followers and devotees; It even has its own Facebook fan page, http://www.facebook.com/pages/Rosalia-Lombardo/119287601450972?sk=info. Salafia would understand and appreciate the devotion his masterpiece inspired. For him, perfecting a method of preservation was an act of love, a means of showing care for the deceased and ensuring connection with the living supported. His motives are best explained with annotations in his diaries, like this one, one: “To convey to posterity, the exact appearance of our loved ones as they were when they left us at the time of eternal departure, is among these compassionate customs that antiquity has transmitted us and that time has preserved “.

To read more, I recommend:

Dario Piombino-Mascali, Arthur C. Aufderheide, Melissa Johnson Williams, Albert R. Zink, “The Salafia method rediscovered”, Virchows Archiv, 454 (3), 2009: 355-357.

Melissa Johnson Williams and Dario Piombino-Mascali, “Alfredo Salafia: Master Embalmer, American Funeral Director, February 2009: 52-55.

Flaviano Farella OFM Cap., Cenni storici della chiesa e della catacombe di Cappuccini di Palermo (Palermo: 1982).

Paul Koudounaris, The Empire of Death: A Cultural History of Ossuaries and Charnel Houses (London: 2011-forthcoming, Fall).