Milan — Beneath the city’s modern veneer, in the damp, airless crypts of a centuries-old hospital, lies a secret that would turn history on its head. Gaia Giordano stood there in 2019, staring down at a mosaic of bones, feeling something stir deep within her—a blend of awe and curiosity. What the bones of the past could tell her was still unclear, but she never imagined that their whispers would reveal traces of a drug that had not yet been “discovered” by modern European science. Yet here it was: evidence of cocaine use, hidden in the fragile skulls of the poor and forgotten.
Hidden Discovery in a Forgotten Crypt
It sounds like something out of a novel—the kind where historians and archaeologists stumble upon an ancient relic that redefines our understanding of the past. But for Gaia Giordano, a postgrad student at the University of Milan, this wasn’t fiction. In the subterranean crypt of the Ca’ Granda hospital, a place once reserved for Milan’s impoverished and disease-ridden, she found something that would rewrite a part of Europe’s history: evidence of cocaine use in 17th-century Italy, centuries before the substance was chemically isolated in the modern world.
The crypt, with its haunting walls lined by bones, served as a communal burial ground for those too poor to receive a proper grave. Among these remains, Giordano and her team analyzed nine skulls, finding traces of cocaine in the brain tissue of two individuals. It was an astonishing discovery—one that challenges the traditional narrative that European contact with coca leaves began only in the late 1800s.
Coca Leaves in Europe: Medicine or Recreation?
How did the leaves of the South American coca plant—a plant known for its medicinal and stimulant properties—end up in the hands (or mouths) of poor Milanese buried in a hospital crypt? There’s no direct record of coca leaves being used in European hospitals at the time, but the physical evidence tells a different story. While the traces of cocaine found in the remains could indicate medicinal use, perhaps for pain relief or appetite suppression, Giordano and her colleagues couldn’t rule out another possibility: the leaves may have been chewed recreationally, much like they were in indigenous cultures in South America.
“People in the 17th century could have sought the same relief from coca that indigenous populations did in the Andes,” says Benjamin Breen, a historian at the University of California, Santa Cruz. “But the idea that this could have been done recreationally is fascinating. It suggests that drug use in premodern Europe may have been far more complex and widespread than we previously thought.”
How Coca Reached Europe Before Its “Official” Introduction
Historians like Breen and anthropologists like Christine VanPool from the University of Missouri speculate that the Spanish colonizers in South America may have been responsible for bringing coca back to Europe. It’s easy to imagine how, amidst their conquest, they observed the indigenous people chewing coca leaves to stave off hunger and pain, and perhaps saw value in bringing it back to Europe for experimentation. Milan, as a bustling hub of trade and knowledge exchange, may have been one of the first European cities to gain access to this potent plant.
In fact, European chronicles from the 16th century do make mention of coca leaves. The Spanish missionary José de Acosta wrote about the natives chewing the leaves, marveling at their ability to provide energy and suppress hunger. While we often credit 19th-century German chemists for isolating cocaine as we know it today, these bones suggest the story of coca’s migration to Europe began much earlier.
The Ethical Dilemmas of Digging Up the Past
The discovery of cocaine traces in ancient remains opens new doors for understanding European history, but it also presents a web of ethical questions. With over 2.9 million bones resting in the crypt of Ca’ Granda, each one a silent witness to Milan’s past, researchers face ethical constraints in deciding which remains to disturb in the name of science. For Giordano, the limits were clear. “We couldn’t study everything,” she explains. “Restrictions—both ethical and technical—meant we had to be selective in what we examined. But what we found, even in this small sample, was astounding.”
The ethical considerations don’t end with excavation. The results also ask uncomfortable questions about how we view the history of drug use and its impact on society. Is it possible that recreational drug use in Europe predates what we’ve always believed? Could the poor, too often overlooked in historical records, have been experimenting with the very substances that would later come to symbolize wealth and indulgence?
History Redefined by Science
Science, after all, does more than affirm the narratives written in books. As Breen eloquently put it, “What we know about the past often comes from the written word, but what we can glean from the physical evidence—especially when it comes from within the brain—brings a whole new dimension to our understanding.”
Giordano’s research not only challenges what we think we know about drug use in premodern Europe but also demonstrates how much of history is yet to be uncovered, waiting in the most unexpected places. From the damp recesses of Milan’s ancient hospital crypts to the halls of academia, the story of Europe’s engagement with mind-altering substances is slowly being rewritten.
Conclusion: What These Bones Tell Us About the Past—and Ourselves
Standing in that crypt in Milan, surrounded by the bones of those who came before us, we are reminded of the fragility of history and the stories yet untold. The discovery of cocaine traces in 17th-century remains doesn’t just rewrite the history books—it challenges us to think differently about the people who lived, loved, suffered, and, perhaps, sought escape in the same ways we do today.
In many ways, these bones tell us more about ourselves than we might care to admit. The desire for relief, for stimulation, or simply for a fleeting moment of peace transcends time. And while the scientific tools we use to uncover these secrets may be modern, the human impulses behind them are timeless.
