The Palermo Catacombs, 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 Silvestre de Gubbio, was placed in an underground vault, along with the scattered remains of monks brought from a previous convent. For the next three centuries or so, the Order’s brothers worked to preserve the bodies of their peers, as well as various esteemed local figures, by placing the prepared corpses in the ever-expanding underground passages. Mummification eventually became something of a cottage industry and a means of maintaining the monastery; in its final form, the site included long sections for both ecclesiastics and laymen, and areas reserved for professionals, women, children, and even virgins.
However, the term “mummification” here must be qualified: calling the Palermo bodies mummies is somewhat generous, since many of them are little more than skeletons, held together by small pieces of dried meat and ligaments. The preservation media developed by the monks involved an application of arsenic to prevent bacterial growth, followed by dehydration. The corpses (which had been packed in straw) were placed on slats in a colatoio (“drying room”) below the monastery, to allow the tuffaceous subsoil to naturally dry them as much as possible. The process took between eight months and a year, and the results were often dubious and sometimes horrible, until Dr. Alfredo Salafia arrived 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 years 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. Devising his own methods, he gained a favorable reputation due to the pristine state 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 it and shipped it to Crespi’s native Sicily, but their work proved inadequate, resulting in adipocere, or what is sometimes called “grave wax”, a waxy buildup of fatty acids. on the face and internal organs of the body, which can take on a grayish or tan color.
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 facial features and meticulously reattaching strands of hair and beard that had been left behind. they had fallen. The result was a public triumph: she gained her first great renown when pilgrimages were organized to view Crespi’s body. Salafia’s reputation grew further when he was asked to handle another high-profile corpse, that of the Archbishop of Palermo, Cardinal Miguel Ángel Celesia, who died in 1904. His immaculate preservation of Celesia was considered a sensation; the archbishop was exposed in the Catacombs of Palermo 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”.
Wealthy citizens of Palermo quickly flocked to Salafia to make arrangements for the preservation of their loved ones for display in the Catacombs. By the early 20th century, the preparation of corpses by monks had stopped due to a local hygiene ordinance that forbade the use of the colotaio. But Salafia’s method not only provided an opportunity for the body to prepare for display, it produced flawless results the likes of which had never been seen before. Until the end of his life, Salafia kept his working methods 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 drying out too much, salicylic acid to kill fungus and zinc salts to provide stiffness.
He eventually marketed a ready-made solution which he called “Salafia Perfection Fluid”. Sold in both Italy and the United States, he claimed that injections of this liquid alone could produce luscious 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 incorrupt to this day, showing no visible signs of deterioration. In contrast to the tacky dance macabre that surrounds them, the Salafia mummies are in perfect repose, with glistening skin and realistic 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 Rosalía Lombardo who surpasses all others in fame. She has been called “Sleeping Beauty” and “The Most Beautiful Mummy in the World,” among other names. Rosalia died on December 6, 1920, and was probably groomed by Salafia late that year or early the next. The girl, the daughter of a police general, succumbed to pneumonia at the age of two. By this time, Salafia had been practicing her craft for at least two decades, and the girl, one of the last mummies admitted to the catacombs, represents the work of a master at the height of her powers. She hasn’t been restored by a single hand since Salafia prepared her, but her face is still fresh, like that of a girl in a light sleep.
His sandy blonde hair is playfully tied in a bow, and a faint smile flickers across 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 of hers, she even has her own fan page on Facebook, http://www.facebook.com/pages/Rosalia-Lombardo/ 119287601450972?sk=info. Salafia would understand and appreciate the devotion her masterpiece inspired. For him, perfecting a preservation method 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 by entries in his diaries, such as this: “To transmit to posterity the exact appearance of our loved ones as they were when they left us at the time of eternal departure, is one of these compassionate customs that antiquity has bequeathed 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 & Dario Piombino-Mascali, “Alfredo Salafia: Master Embalmer, American Funeral Director, February 2009: 52-55.
Flaviano Farella OFM Cap., Cenni storici della chiesa e della catacomb di Cappuccini di Palermo (Palermo: 1982).
Paul Koudounaris, The Empire of Death: A Cultural History of Ossuaries and Charnel Houses (London: 2011-forthcoming, Autumn).