20 Unusual Funeral Customs from History That People Actually Practiced

Mummification in ancient Egypt was far more complex than simply wrapping a body in linen. Embalmers removed the internal organs, dried out the body using natron, treated it with resins, and prepared it for the afterlife. The goal was to preserve the body so that the spirit of the deceased could recognize it and use it again. 

In the Tibetan ritual of sky burial, the body was placed on a mountaintop or at a special burial site where vultures would devour the remains. To the uninitiated, this may seem shocking, but according to Tibetan Buddhist belief, the body is nothing more than an empty vessel after death. Offering it to the birds could be seen as a final act of generosity. This practice also served a practical purpose in regions where rocky soil and a scarcity of wood made burial or cremation difficult.

In certain regions of China, Indonesia, and the Philippines, some communities placed coffins high up on cliffs or inside rock faces. This custom allowed the deceased to be physically elevated, sometimes to locations that were difficult to access, even for the living. They believed that the higher the coffin was placed, the greater the honor bestowed upon the deceased, but it was also a practical way to protect the remains from predators. 

Some Viking elites were buried in ships or boat-shaped graves, surrounded by weapons, tools, animals, and personal items. The ship symbolized travel, social status, and perhaps even a journey to the afterlife. These burials could be spectacular displays of power, especially when the deceased was buried with valuable possessions. 

The fear of being buried alive was so strong in the 18th and 19th centuries that some people purchased safety coffins or funeral bells. These devices were designed to allow the person buried to sound the alarm from inside the coffin if they had been buried alive. The fact that people spent money to purchase them speaks volumes about the intensity of this fear.

In certain regions of Great Britain and Ireland, some communities once believed that a person known as a “sinner-eater”—often poor or marginalized—could take upon themselves the sins of the deceased. Food and drink were placed near or on the deceased, and the sin-eater would consume them as part of the ritual. The idea was that the soul of the deceased could thus be purified before passing into the afterlife.

Some Zoroastrian communities traditionally used elevated structures called dakhmas, often known as “Towers of Silence.” Bodies were placed there so that scavenging birds and the natural elements could dispose of them without defiling the sacred elements—earth, fire, or water—with a corpse, which was considered impure or contaminated by evil.

Throughout Northern Europe, some ancient bodies have been preserved in peat bogs, where the low oxygen content and acidic environment have kept the skin, hair, and clothing intact for centuries. Many experts believe that a significant number of the bodies found in peat bogs were victims of human sacrifices intended to appease the gods or goddesses in order to ensure fertility and survival, and the careful arrangement of some of the bodies suggests that these marshy landscapes may have held ritual significance. 

Funeral rites for the ancient Roman elite could involve actors or relatives wearing wax masks depicting the family’s deceased ancestors. These masks, called “imagines,” helped transform funerals into a public display of family prestige. People did not merely mourn the dead; they presented them as part of a long and powerful lineage. Mourning, remembrance, and social status thus paraded together through the streets. 

In some ancient cultures, powerful individuals were buried alongside servants, guards, or captives who had been killed to accompany them into the afterlife. Royal tombs discovered in ancient Mesopotamia and early dynastic China, among other places, have revealed evidence of servants buried alongside the elite. This practice was often linked to the belief that social status and service continued after death. 

Sati was a historical practice widespread in certain regions of South Asia, stemming from the elitist Hindu culture of the Middle Ages, in which a widow would die on her husband’s funeral pyre. This practice could result from social pressure, coercion, or a lack of alternatives, rather than simply an act of voluntary devotion. It was officially banned in India under British rule in 1829.

In many ancient societies, families hired professional mourners to weep, sing, chant, or publicly express their grief at funerals. The more boisterous and theatrical the mourning, the more important the deceased might appear. These mourners helped create the appropriate emotional atmosphere, particularly for high-ranking families. 

In the 19th century, families would sometimes have photographs taken of their deceased loved ones—especially children—before their burial. Photography was expensive, and for some families, this might have been the only portrait they would ever have of the person. These portraits often depicted the deceased in a peaceful pose, sometimes alongside surviving relatives. 

In the Victorian era, it was common to make or wear jewelry containing locks of hair from a deceased loved one. Rings, brooches, lockets, and braided headpieces served to make grief visible and tangible. This may seem unsettling today, but hair was a personal item—durable and easy to preserve. For those in mourning, it offered a physical connection to the person they had lost.

Among the Dani people of New Guinea, some women used to amputate part of their fingers to express their grief after the death of a loved one. This painful act served as a visible sign of loss and mourning. This custom has been discouraged and is no longer very common today. It nevertheless illustrates how, in some cultures, grief was expressed directly on the body.

Some societies practiced endocannibalism, meaning they consumed parts of the bodies of the deceased within their own community or family group. This practice was generally not motivated by violence or hunger, but rather aimed to honor the deceased, integrate them into the community, or keep them close. For some groups, eating ashes or remains could be a way of expressing love and continuity. 

In secondary funeral rites, the deceased were buried or temporarily placed in a location, then moved once decomposition was complete. Families or communities might clean the bones, place them in ossuaries, or reburial them in a communal grave. Death thus became a process rather than a single event. 

The ancient Greeks and Romans would sometimes place a coin in the mouth or near the body of the deceased. This coin was intended to pay Charon, the ferryman who guided souls across the river to the Underworld. Apparently, even the afterlife had its price.

In medieval Europe, graves were often temporary, as space in cemeteries was limited. Once the bodies had decomposed, the bones could be exhumed and transferred to an ossuary. This meant that the deceased remained part of the community, but were simply stored in a more space-efficient manner. 

Some members of European royalty and nobility had their hearts buried separately from the rest of their bodies. The heart might be laid to rest in a church dear to their heart, in their homeland, or in a place of political significance. This allowed a person to be commemorated in multiple locations, which proved practical when it came to balancing deep personal feelings with dynastic image.