The 1640 Lund Condom: A Fascinating Glimpse into 17th-Century Sexual Health

Imagine stumbling upon a relic from the 1600s that’s not a coin or a sword, but a condom—made from pig intestines, no less, with a Latin user manual advising a dip in warm milk! That’s exactly what archaeologists uncovered in Lund, Sweden: one of the oldest intact condoms ever found, dating back to 1640. This quirky artifact, displayed in a 2006 exhibit at the Tyrolean County Museum in Austria, offers a window into how people tackled sexual health centuries before modern medicine. Let’s dive into the story of this extraordinary find and what it tells us about life, love, and innovation in the 17th century.

Unearthing a Piece of Intimate History

The discovery happened during archaeological excavations in Lund, a historic university town in southern Sweden. Now housed at the Lund University Historical Museum, this 1640 condom is a rare survivor from an era when such items were both costly and cutting-edge. Crafted from pig intestine—a thin, flexible material that mimicked modern latex in function, if not comfort—it measures about 7-8 cm long, with one end tied off with a string or ribbon to secure it during use. This wasn’t a one-and-done product; it was designed to be washed, soaked, and reused, making it a practical (if pricey) investment for the time.

What makes this find truly remarkable is the accompanying “user manual” written in Latin on a small sheet of paper. The instructions were blunt: before use, dip the condom in unboiled (warm) milk to help prevent diseases, especially when “sleeping with prostitutes.” After use, wash it thoroughly and soak it in milk for 6-8 hours to clean and soften it for the next round. This could be repeated up to a dozen times, assuming careful maintenance. In an age ravaged by syphilis and other venereal diseases, this was a bold attempt at protection, blending folk medicine with practicality.

Condoms in the 17th Century: A Response to a Growing Crisis

Condoms weren’t born in the 1600s, but they became more prominent during the Renaissance, driven by the syphilis epidemic that swept Europe after Columbus’s voyages in the late 1400s. By the 17th century, animal-gut sheaths were the go-to for the elite—think merchants, courtiers, or even soldiers—who could afford them. A single condom might cost a day’s wages for a laborer, so they were often a luxury for the wealthy or those desperate to avoid the “French disease” (as syphilis was called).

The Lund condom’s material—pig intestine—was typical. Animal guts were thin, durable, and widely available, much like the sheep or goat intestines used for sausages. The milk-soaking trick, though odd to us, stemmed from the era’s belief that raw milk had antimicrobial properties (thanks to lactic acid). In reality, unboiled milk could introduce bacteria, making the practice a bit of a gamble. Still, it shows the ingenuity of a pre-antibiotic world grappling with public health.

The term “condom” itself may have emerged around this time, possibly from the Latin condus (meaning “receptacle”) or linked to a legendary Dr. Condom under King Charles II’s court (though that’s likely apocryphal). Earlier, in the 1560s, Italian physician Gabriele Falloppio had tested linen sheaths on 1,100 men, reporting no syphilis infections—a pioneering study in prophylaxis. By 1640, condoms were less about contraception and more about disease prevention, though both uses were understood.

The 2006 Exhibit: Sex Through the Ages

In 2006, this Lund condom took center stage in an exhibit called The Cultural History of Sex (also known as Joy of Sex: 4 Billion Years of Copulation) at the Tiroler Landesmuseum Ferdinandeum in Innsbruck, Austria. Displayed alongside 250 other artifacts—from ancient phallic amulets to Victorian erotica—it drew crowds eager to explore humanity’s long history of intimacy and innovation. The condom, with its Latin manual, stole the show for its blend of practicality and peculiarity. It wasn’t just a relic; it was proof that people in the 17th century were as concerned with safe sex as we are today, even if their methods were less reliable.

The exhibit highlighted how far we’ve come. From pig-gut sheaths soaked in milk to vulcanized rubber in the 1840s and latex in the 1920s, the evolution of condoms mirrors advances in science and manufacturing. Yet, the Lund condom reminds us that the drive to protect oneself and others is timeless.

Why This Matters Today

Holding a piece of history like the 1640 Lund condom (or reading about it, at least) is a humbling experience. It’s easy to chuckle at the idea of milk-soaked pig intestines, but this artifact tells a deeper story. In an era without antibiotics, vaccines, or even germ theory, people were innovating with what they had—animal guts, milk, and a bit of hope—to navigate a dangerous world. The Latin manual, with its frank advice about prostitutes, reflects the moral and medical anxieties of the time, while the reusable design speaks to a culture of resourcefulness.

This find also sparks curiosity about the person who owned it. Was it a wealthy merchant? A soldier on leave? A student at Lund’s university? How did it end up buried, and what other secrets lie beneath that Swedish soil? As a history buff, I’m captivated by these questions and the way artifacts like this bring the past to life.

Final Thoughts

The 1640 Lund condom is more than a quirky footnote in history—it’s a testament to human ingenuity and resilience. It reminds us that our ancestors faced many of the same challenges we do, from disease to desire, and they tackled them with creativity, even if their solutions seem bizarre today. If you ever get the chance to visit the Lund University Historical Museum or a similar exhibit, keep an eye out for this tiny, unassuming relic. It’s proof that history is full of surprises, and sometimes, the smallest objects tell the biggest stories.

Have you come across other strange artifacts or historical health practices? Drop a comment below—I’d love to hear your thoughts! And if you’re as fascinated by this condom’s story as I am, let’s keep the conversation going about how the past continues to shape our present.