10 gross historical insights into the once‑thriving skeleton trade reveal a world where complete human frames were bought, sold, and even polished for display. In the not‑so‑distant past, the trade in full skeletons and assorted bones flourished. Bone experts learned how to whiten and preserve the most striking skeletons, while medical doctors clamored for complete sets for research and, dare one say, to flaunt their authority.
10 Gross Historical Overview
10 Bone Oils
Maitre Mazzur stood alone in the United States with a very niche talent. Operating out of New York City in 1876, he could “draw the oil out of human bones” so the skeletons displayed wouldn’t reek of decay.
His technique for eradicating the stench was a tightly guarded secret. Mazzur had learned the method while studying in Paris, home to the premier skeleton makers, and he refused to divulge it to anyone stateside. His cramped workshop on Bleecker Street was off‑limits, and he kept to himself.
During his era roughly five hundred skeletons arrived in NYC each year, destined for colleges, medical schools, artists, and odd‑collector enthusiasts. The remainder of displays were assembled locally from assorted sources, often salvaged from hospital waste collected by janitorial staff.
9 Quality Of Skeletons
Skeletons were graded by quality. A No. 1 set represented the premium tier, crafted for affluent physicians who could afford the $800 price tag in 1891.
At the opposite end sat composite skeletons, pieced together from multiple donors. One donor might supply the skull, another the right arm, yet another the pelvis.
These mixes were commonplace, sold to sideshows, theatres, and horror chambers. Their medical value was limited and they often appeared lopsided because the bones differed in size.
A true skull fetched a composite price of about $150, provided it came from a real person. Skeletons that incorporated imitation bones made from compressed paper pulp sold for far less and typically found buyers among secret fraternal societies.
8 Work Dedication
In 1891, M. de Robaire ran a modest shop in Philadelphia. A sign above the storefront proclaimed “Perfumerie”, yet the upper floor concealed a very different trade.
De Robaire was a skeleton merchant. To keep superstitious neighbors at bay, he used the perfume shop as a front.
A solitary Frenchman, he spent most of his time in the second‑floor workroom assembling skeletons for clandestine clubs and societies.
His bedroom, also on the second floor, doubled as storage. The walls were lined with skulls and crossbones; each bedpost was capped with a skull.
De Robaire sourced most of his bones from France, claiming American and German specimens were merely boiled and felt rough. French bones underwent a two‑to‑three‑month cleaning, emerging white and polished.
Upon receipt, he meticulously assembled the bones, creating some of the finest full skeletons in the nation.
7 Preparation Of The Bones
In France, 1892, the preparation of bones for display was a painstaking and grisly undertaking. Starting with a corpse, a scalpel stripped away all fat, muscle, and tissue.
Once the flesh was cleared, the bones were boiled, with careful monitoring to avoid over‑cooking that would render them rough.
Subsequently, the bones were sun‑exposed, bleaching them white and allowing residual grease to seep out.
Finally, a blend of ether, benzene, and secret chemicals imparted a lasting brightness. This treatment set French bones apart, preventing yellowing and foul odors even in heat.
After cleaning, a master bone‑artisan assembled the spinal column using a brass rod, secured the rib cage with brass wires, and attached hinges and hooks to grant the skeleton realistic mobility.
6 London Gets Its Bodies
By 1899 in London, unclaimed corpses from workhouses and hospitals were first dissected, and if all bones remained intact, they were cleaned for full skeleton displays.
Demand outstripped supply, forcing collectors to await battles and harvest whole, unbroken bodies from battlefields.
After the Battle of Omdurman, newspapers reported that dervish corpses were being transformed into marketable skeletons.
Skeleton dealers assured the public that no British soldier bones were used. They claimed the robust dervish bodies produced the finest, whitest skeletons, commanding higher prices than those sourced from London workhouses.
5 The British Grew Terrible Bones
By 1900, curio collectors and physicians scrambled for premium dervish skeletons, while British bones were deemed the lowest quality on the market.
British bones were frequently stunted and bore a persistent yellow hue; bleaching could not fully remove the tint.
Conversely, French bones were prized for their strength and ease of whitening, fetching mid‑to‑high range prices depending on craftsmanship.
The poor condition of British bones likely stemmed from diet and labor conditions, which, while unfortunate, made them less appealing to those who dreaded having their own remains displayed.
4 Sell Your Own Bones
In the early 1900s, selling one’s own skeleton before death was a known way to raise cash. One 1907 story recounts a newly‑wed man who, after a leg‑breaking accident and lingering internal injuries, chose to sell his bones as a final gift to his wife, receiving $50 in advance.
His wife visited him in the hospital, received the money, and the couple said farewell.
Even for the living, profit could be made from others’ bones. Explorers returning from abroad often brought back indigenous bodies, which were sold to bone dealers and then to skeleton manufacturers.
3 Criminal Heads
In France, criminal skulls were frequently preserved because executed bodies were often unclaimed.
By 1913, certain Paris warehouses dedicated a room solely to these skulls, each labeled with the offender’s name and execution date, sometimes accompanied by pamphlets detailing the crimes.
These skulls were available for purchase by curious collectors and physicians, and could also be rented for lectures or macabre public displays for thrill‑seekers.
2 Spare Parts
Spare skeletal parts formed a significant segment of the bone trade. These components were typically harvested from hospitals after amputations or dissections, then stripped of flesh, bleached, and stored in neatly numbered boxes.
While some served to create composite skeletons, most acted as replacements for broken or missing bones—e.g., a dog‑chewed toe could be swapped out by sending the skeleton to a bone warehouse for a fresh piece.
Major European cities each housed one or more secret bone warehouses, kept hidden due to superstitions. With the right connections, collectors could acquire any bone—from infant to adult—at a price.
1 Britain’s Trade Slump
In 1948, three years after World War II, the British Parliament faced a grim reality: exports of human skeletons were rapidly dwindling.
Art schools, hospitals, and medical institutions were desperate for authentic skeleton displays, yet supply had dried up.
Jokes circulated about posters urging citizens to “hurry up and die and help the export drive.” The skeleton industry was clearly fading, prompting dealers to explore plastic replicas, using brass springs and catgut to mimic the mobility of genuine skeletons.