Topic for this article are two ships of the Kriegsmarine and their selected tours ranging between 1884–1887, during which human remains were collected and later accessed into the collection of the Department of Anthropology at the NHMW (DA–NHMW), dubbed as the Tanzania and Madagascar collection. These ships are the S.M.S. “Frundsberg” and “Saida”, both corvettes, warships with crews numbering 318 (“Saida”) and 209 (“Frundsberg”) members (AT–OeStA KA Marine 190, I 6/16 1884). As armed military vessels, ships were centerpieces of power and knowledge during their voyages, a somewhat safe space for the ship’s crew in foreign lands (Leshem and Pinkerton 2019)–bringing back countless botanical, zoological and mineralogical objects as well as ethnographica and human remains that would later be curated, analyzed, and stored in the collections of the NHMW. The “Frundsberg” sailed to East Africa in 1884–1885, while in 1886–1887 the “Saida” sailed to South America and then circumnavigated Africa.

Onboard the “Frundsberg”, its physician Emmerich Billitzer was given written instructions to collect human remains by the DA-NHMW head, Josef Szombathy (1853–1943). Potential sources include hospitals, prisons, execution sites and private collections of local physicians. The geographic origin and ethnic affiliation had to be as precise as possible to ensure the remains’ scientific value in accurately representing their local “racial type” and allowing later to be able to subject them to racial studies. While still in the field, the remains should be therefore marked as detailed as possible with their origin (AT–OeStA KA Marine 223, I 1/1 1886). An emphasis was put on the quantity of the human remains, and if deemed too low, then the quality of the human remains was to be neglected. What low means in this context was not further elaborated by Szombathy, but in case that “more crania and bones are present than can be taken” (AT–OeStA KA Marine 223, I 1/1 1886), then the best–preserved crania were to be preferred, even if it included fleshy parts still connected to the bones. In any case, the mandible and canines should also always be preserved.

On 29 November 1884, the “Frundsberg” reached Bagamoyo, a city near Dar-es-Salaam in today’s Tanzania. According to a report written by Billitzer, the skeletal remains of three Nyamwezi individuals were collected among zoological specimen during the short stay (AT–OeStA KA Marine 206, I 7/13 1885).

On 30 November 1884, one day after their arrival in Bagamoyo, Billitzer “collected” the first remains of a person from a palm grove, who must have had decayed for approximately three to four months in the bushes, not yet fully skeletonized, with a string of beads on the left lower arm and a ring (Inventory Catalogue of the Department of Anthropology (IC) 3:128). Both objects are now part of the collections of Weltmuseum Wien. Billitzer, who was led to the remains by a missionary of the Holy Ghost Fathers in Bagamoyo, attributed the remains to the Nyamwezi people, which is quite likely: Bagamoyo was an important trade town between the coastal areas and interior East Africa since 1800 (Fabian 2019: 2). Nyamwezi porters traveled to the coast since the middle of the 18^th century (Alpers 1968: 238; Iliffe 1979: 41; Fabian 2019: 50–51) and were largely responsible for trade in this area. During the peak season between May and December, up to 30,000 porters were in Bagamoyo by the end of the 19^th century (Iliffe 1979: 43–46), offering their service as free wage workers (Rockel 2000: 173–174). Since the Nyamwezi and other inland people came in great numbers to Bagamoyo, they “camped out across the town, spread out in the squares, on the beach, and in warehouses of the Indian merchant community” (Fabian 2019: 53). Apart from recaptives, the porters from the interior were the primary targets for christianization by the missionaries. Therefore, they were in close contact with the Nyamwezi, who usually camped near the mission. In addition, many societies from the hinterland of East Africa, such as the Pare people, are known to have used sacred groves or forests as burial sites before christianization. Salvatory Nyanto (Nyanto 2016) states that oral testimonies and written sources indicate that deceased of all social strata were buried and not only the chiefs. Billitzer’s description of the site as a palm grove therefore suggests that it was a burial site from which he exhumed the human remains:

Since, according to the mission members […], Bagamoyo is the final destination of all caravans from the interior of Africa to Zanzibar and the majority of the carriers come from the moon country—Unyamwezi, Land of the Moon—it can be assumed with the utmost probability that the mentioned finds belong to individuals of this race. (AT–OeStA KA Marine 222, XIV 3/2 1885).

Later in the day, Billitzer collected a second calvarium in Bagamoyo and a third cranium that lay “freely accessible on the shores of the coast” (AT–OeStA KA Marine 222, XIV 3/2 1885). In accordance with Szombathy’s instructions, the human remains were assigned numbers that included the day of exhumation, and then consecutive roman numerals: Bagamoyo 30.XI.84/I, II and III, and were finally inventoried in the DA-NHMW in 1901 (IC 3: 127).

There is a distinct possibility that some of the human remains collected by Billitzer in or around Bagamoyo were those of enslaved or formerly enslaved people. The central port for slave trade in the 19^th century along the Mrima coast was Kilwa. However, pressure from the British, who attempted to stop the slave trade with warships in this area by 1873, led to a shift in the slave trade. Therefore, slave traders shifted their routes northward, using various hidden spots of the Mrima coast to avoid detection. This development also increased the flow of enslaved people through Bagamoyo, though it remained just one of several possible locations for sale and export as Fabian (2013: 99–100) states. Additionally, missionary stations, including the Holy Ghost Fathers in Bagamoyo, pushed the liberation of slaves, who were baptized and subsequently inhabited Christian settlements (Mapunda 2004). Although unfree labor was part of everyday life and the local economy in the World of the Indian Ocean (Campbell 2019: 255–280), it played a relatively minor role in Bagamoyo compared to other coastal towns; enslaved people made up around 15% of the general population, usually working as household or plantation slaves (Fabian 2013: 100). However, if we follow Billitzer’s assumption, which is based on statements by missionaries, that the human remains are from the Nyamwezi people, then it is rather unlikely that these were enslaved individuals. While there were isolated cases of Nyamwezi porters being “slavenapped”, these instances were rare (Fabian 2013: 100).

The largest amount of human remains researched in this article were collected by Stefan Paulay (1839–1913), ship physician aboard the “Saida”. Szombathy accounted “4 crania from Wooded Island near Nosy Be on the North-East Coast from Madagascar, and 16 N*-crania from Bagamoyo near Zanzibar on the East-Coast of Africa“ (AT–OeStA KA Marine 263, VIII 4/7 1888), which were inventoried a year after the return of the “Saida” in 1888 (IC 3: 110, 113). Strikingly, the 16 individuals are also reported to have been “collected in the bushes of Bagamoyo” from the same area as three years before by Billitzer (IC 3:109). This strengthens the suspicion that a grave site was plundered by Billitzer, to which Paulay, characterized by his superiors through his high enthusiasm, might have had knowledge about and returned to (AT–OeStA KA 249, VIII 4/42 1887). Before his first mission, Paulay had even travelled to Vienna to be trained in collecting specimens (AT–OeStA KA 249, VIII 4/42 1887).

The other four individuals, allegedly belonging to Sakalava people, were exhumed by Paulay from graves in Madagascar, where he also plundered the burial goods. Paulay had gained knowledge about graves located on a place he called Wooded Island through information received from an unknown intermediate on Nosy Be (IC 1: 113). The location of this island remains unclear, as to our best knowledge, no island is known under this name today. It is possible that Paulay visited Nosy Faly, an island near Nosy Be, which is known as a burial site for Sakalava people. Sakalava were a Malagasy society who lived in the 19^th century as herders on the west coast of the island, but their kingdoms founded in the 17^th century were the first major large-scale political structures in Madagascar (Schicho 1999: 60–62; Kneitz 2008: 33). The “Saida” arrived in Madagascar between the First Franco-Merina War (1883–1885) and the Second Franco-Merina War (1894–1895) during which France occupied the island. The Sakalava people’s crania from Madagascar were therefore deemed very valuable, leading Szombathy to attest a financial value of 280 Guilder on the collection (AT–OeStA KA Marine 263, VIII 4/7 1888).

While written archival material can be accessed to answer historical questions, this also applies to human remains. We present how a non-invasive bioarchaeological analysis including a taphonomic assessment can add to researching the individual’s provenance in addition to archival sources. Not all types of violence are necessarily reflected in the osteological or archival record. Instead, we approach the collection from this point to see if we can identify signs of violence, how they are expressed, and in what form they occur. Because human remains embody the accumulated effects of violence during their lifetime (Zuckerman et al. 2014), it is hypothesized that skeletal markers representing potential contexts of violence are present at different stages in the acquisition of the collection, meaning before the inventory at the DA-NHMW (collecting stage) as well as afterwards (curating stage). The human remains of the Tanzania and Madagascar Collection, brought aboard the “Frundsberg” and “Saida” to Vienna include crania and calvaria, and initially accounts for 26 inventory numbers (see Table 1). This also includes three single individual mandibles (NHMW-Anthro-OSTE-2328a–c), which do not fit anatomically (by occlusal surface and/ or temporomandibular joint properties) either to calvarium NHMW-Anthro-OSTE-2328 or any of the other two cranial remains without mandible (NHMW-Anthro-OSTE-2317, NHMW-Anthro-OSTE-2323) from this collection. Human remains of only one inventory number were found to be missing since at least 2004 (NHMW-Anthro-OSTE-2319). Therefore, 22 inventory numbers refer to osteological elements that are still present in the DA-NHMW. For some of them, the first scientific description was made by Viennese physician Augustin Weisbach (1837–1914) (Weisbach 1889).

The Tanzania and Madagascar Collection was analyzed regarding biological sex and age-at-death following established estimation procedures in bioarchaeology. If possible, the same methods used as in previous research were applied (Ferembach et al. 1979; Buikstra and Ubelaker 1994; Steckel et al. 2006). The human remains were also examined for physical trauma. Depending on the type of trauma, different fractures can occur, which are then further classified according to the location, formation, healing process and distribution of fracture lines (Galloway et al. 2014). Apart from physical trauma, other physical but also non-physical harm to bodies can result from various factors, especially when societal structures limit an individual’s access to essential resources. This often systemic denial is directly connected to the concept of structural violence as described below (Galtung 1969). In this context, it refers to the constraints imposed on an individual by the society they inhabit, its limitations imposed by exactly the society that the individual lives in. Structural violence can be found in discrimination such as sexism, racism, classism, but also colonialism. No access to medical resources—regardless if western or traditional—does not only prevent cure but may also lead to chronic illnesses, of which some are a preventable yet common occurrence linked to low socio-economic status, sex, age, or religion (Farmer et al. 2006; World Health Organization 2014: 8). In addition, the more hierarchical a society is, the more marginalized groups tend to have fewer resources and privileges compared to the oppressors of the same society. This situation was and still is prevalent when it comes to colonialism and postcolonial times (Dube and Banerjee-Dube 2019). One of the ways it can be expressed on the skeletal record is by the relatively higher prevalence of disease, which however must still be further contextualized in its historic setting (Klaus 2012). In this article, structural violence is therefore reflected in unspecific physiological stress markers as a proxy for health, and a following reconstruction of societal circumstances through written resources.

With further attempting to disentangle the different ways violence acts and is reacted to in societies, the more it becomes clear how easily and universally they influence each other. This is also the case for epistemic violence, also coined as epistemological violence. It is not as easily grasped like interpersonal violence, and harder to isolate as structural violence, but it can be summarized as knowledge emerging from science (Teo 2008). Knowledge may result in violence if this knowledge, or interpretation of data, has a negative impact on the “Other”. Teo (2010) argues that as soon as empirical differences are “interpreted as inferiority or problematizes the Other, whether this theorizing has epistemological or practical consequences, it can be understood as a harm of violence that is produced in ‘knowledge’”. The emergence of violence therefore lies in the interpretation of data–not the data itself–turning into violence, happening through trading directives, practices, policies, and changes in cultural behavior. This may also result in creating new or altering pre-existing societal structures, resulting in effects of structural violence. Here we understand epistemic violence as the force promoted by the need and production of knowledge through science(s). To study it, we evaluate the archival record of the NHMW regarding the influence of scientific research and exhibition practices to the creation of the Tanzania and Madagascar Collection. We then analyze if these persisted before and after the collection was inventoried in the museum.

Interpersonal violence was studied through the prevalence of healed, healing, and unhealed trauma. The unspecific skeletal stress markers indicating health status were cribra orbitalia (pittings in the orbital roof mainly caused by anemia and malnutrition), caries (diet, deficient oral hygiene), porotic hyperostosis (thickening of the cranial bone, often associated with poor health), and general signs of inflammation (Buikstra and Ubelaker 1994; Steckel et al. 2006). These are skeletal proxies that are a simplification of complex contexts reflecting structural violence. Epistemic markers studied include processes that alter the individual’s physical identity, for example through the application of writings direct onto the bone surface, and changing the cranium into an object by including curational (gluing, preserving) or scientific (writings, measurements) information on it. Changes and alterations caused by these taphonomic processes were also recorded to better understand post-mortem influences on the human remains (writing on the bone surface, bone weathering, bone color changes) and to provide differential diagnosis between forensic, pathological and taphonomic agents.

Three datasets exist for the Tanzania and Madagascar Collection. Sex and age-at-death data originating from the DA-NHMW inventory catalogue is included as a source, as it cannot be ruled out that the inventorying curator received more details about for example the individual’s age-at-death and sex. Published sex and age-at-death data also already exist from the first scientific description of these human remains, conducted by Weisbach (Weisbach 1889). Lastly, some of the human remains have already been analyzed in a diploma thesis and contextualized in terms of their provenance and signs of pathology and trauma (Reichel 2010). Therefore, the individuals are not presented individually, but are discussed quantitatively per source, as the methods applied for estimation were the same. When considerable differences were observed, e.g. the age-at-death estimation or distribution of certain pathologies–potential reasons are discussed. This is done to highlight that while bioarchaeology is a natural science, estimations are not absolute and can be open to different interpretations.

The osteological metadata used to create the Figs 1, 2, 3, 4 is available upon request from CS.

The present 22 inventory numbers were analyzed for potential markers regarding structural, epistemic, and interpersonal violence. One missing individual (NHMW-Anthro-OSTE-2319) was solely included into the age-at-death and sex estimation and trauma analysis based on historic data. In general, the individuals of the Tanzania and Madagascar Collection proved to be well-preserved crania with most of the bone surface present. The individuals were distributed into young (n = 13), middle (n = 5) and old (n = 3) adults (see Fig. 1A). Most individuals were estimated to be female (n = 13) (see Fig. 1B).

Of the 22 observed individuals, no signs of perimortem trauma could be detected, but there are two cases of potential antemortem trauma (see Fig. 2). One individual (NHMW-Anthro-OSTE-2317) shows signs of a healed depression fracture on the right frontal bone, with a maximum length of 1.8 cm and width of 1.1 cm, and no changes visible on the inner side of the cranium. The second individual (NHMW-Anthro-OSTE-2331) shows potential signs of healed blunt force trauma with healed or active perforation of the wound through a 0.3 cm wide hole on its frontal bone, also with no changes visible on the inner side of the cranium besides fracture imprints. This might be a sign of interpersonal violence, but an accidental origin cannot be ruled out. This recording of only two cases is in contrast to the previously recorded estimations, where six individuals were estimated to show signs of perimortem trauma (Reichel 2010). After a careful reassessment of these–including one case of trepanation, and two cases of post-mortem disarticulation–they were all diagnosed to be of either pathological origin or representing non-metric traits.

From the pathological perspective, several non-specific skeletal markers representing potential indicators for contexts of structural violence were present (see Fig. 3A). Structural violence may represent itself in the skeletal record through infections as well as conditions that correlate with bad hygiene or malnutrition. Some dental markers and those of the cranial and orbital roof surface may reflect structural violence in the skeletal record of certain populations, but these markers are non-specific and can also account for other conditions like malaria or iron deficiency (Boldsen 2007; Oxenham and Cavill 2011; Klaus 2012). Again, the present analysis retrieved a lower frequency of severe pathologies than the one carried out in 2010 (see Fig. 3B).

In the previous research approach carried out in 2010, and historically, there was no taphonomic data collection besides an occasional remark on the general preservation status. If the application of scientific methods to produce knowledge based on the manual and technical examination of the crania is understood as epistemic violence, there are numerous markers of epistemic violence present in this collection. Approaching the markers grouped by their causative agents, this becomes especially visible (see Fig. 4). Here, the majority were caused by curators (n = 38 of 101 alterations), followed by written applications and environmental changes (n = 32 and n = 21 of 101 alterations). Curational processes included the application of preservative coats, inscriptions, and the attachment of screws to link the calvarium to its mandible. Scientific approaches include pencil marks on bone surface associated with landmarks for craniometric analyses and the presence of mustard seeds used to measure the cranial volume. As part of environmentally caused taphonomic markers, one cranium showed a high degree of bone weathering. The additional absence of a mandible and non-pathological porosities and lesions on the pars basilaris suggest that it was moved across an abrasive surface like sand for a longer time period, also called tumbleweed cranium (Berner et al. 2022).

The alteration that occurred most often (n = 27) were notes applied with ink on the bone surface, mostly the left parietal, to indicate for example geographic provenance, year of collection, and the collector. The next two alterations frequently found herein were of curational nature: the application of a preservative coat (n = 13) and leaving of a note (n = 9) in the box. This note was the same in seven cases, providing information when the individual was removed from and returned to the depot, proving that this cranium was part of the permanent exhibition of the DA-NHMW between 1977 and 1997. This “scientific education” to the public was characterized by a hierarchical racial characterization of humanity, which ultimately led to closing and re-evaluating the permanent exhibition in the late 1990ies after a huge public debate (Mayer and Taschwer 1995). Landmarks represent the highest number of scientific alterations applied to the cranium (n = 8), indicating that the crania were measured for research purposes. It is, however, unclear which research questions were addressed.

Markers found in the interpretation of skeletal markers that can be tied to violent circumstances were therefore found at both stages of collecting and curating. It has to be stressed, though, that they are not situation specific and may also reflect other causes. Additionally, the markers for interpersonal violence cannot be directly traced back to the collecting stage, and there are also no implications for this found in the archival research approach. The markers for structurally experienced violence are equally unspecific. Potential signs of epistemic violence were found in the collecting as well as the curating stage, as the numbering and labeling by the physicians and curational and scientific markers show.

The archival records for this collection are uniquely detailed for a colonial context. They let us reconstruct the exact days as well as motivations and eager personality portrayed first-hand by the ship’s physician who was in charge of collecting. By that it also shows the wider entanglement of Billitzer and Paulay within the network put up by the Austrian Navy and the museum. Expeditions themselves combine aspects from physical and epistemic violence (Leshem and Pinkerton 2019), something that is clearly reflected in the acquisition of the Tanzania and Madagascar Collection as well as through its archival records. Collecting crania was deemed especially doable and accessible because no previous-trained scientists had to be taken on board, but both physicians and regular crew members were made responsible for collecting. While we also do not want to rule out the possibility of the human remains to be these of enslaved or recaptives, as it is not indicated in the–albeit spare–provenance information that we would not be dealing with Nyamwezi porters, we think this to be rather unlikely. First, the porters were part of an early trade network, representing–as noted by previous research–the early stages of capitalism and its consequent protection and freedom that accompanies it (Rockel 2000). The later scientific use and racist display of the human remains solidified the epistemological violence. What could not be shown by archival records, however, was if actual physical force was applied during the collection process of the human remains, e.g. during their exhumation through Billitzer and Paulay. Rather, it complements and contextualizes the implications from the osteological analyses further and could provide more info for the collecting rather than the curation stage.

As stated before, some of the human remains in question have already been analyzed to varying degrees in previous research. This highlights its importance within the department and its scientific significance. It also shows the “evolution” of the various interests in the crania, beginning with the mere description of them by Weisbach, through the inventory in the catalogue, to the more recent efforts to research their provenance. While the present research in comparison to these other sources could extend the archival body, the bioarchaeological analysis yielded considerable differences in some estimations. Inter-observer error may cause limited objectivity and reproducibility of results, especially regarding macroscopic methods such as sex estimation (Krishan et al. 2016). Sex is an important bioarchaeological identifier with different cultural significance tied to it, such as funerary traditions (Hollimon 2011). For the current analysis, the estimations were carefully executed to avoid over-interpretation of a small sample population with different provenances from an unknown period of time, and also because no postcranial elements are present. The consequences of these different estimations should be considered in a wider context, and under a framework that Zuckerman and colleagues have previously described as “relational ethics for bioarchaeology” (Zuckerman et al. 2014). To ensure a more ethical handling of human remains–which mainly refers to respectful treatment but also to the justification of research in general–relational ethics stresses the meaning of the second layer of agency human remains gain through the telling of individual storie(s) by their collected “data”. In our specific case, this “tale being told” is happening through the human remains’ second acquisitional layer, further contextualized by archival and ethnological data. Their bioarchaeological analysis is not, as sometimes proposed by bioarcheologists, a hard fact, but instead a mere adjustment and estimation to predefined categories such as sex and age-at-death. These categories, applied by western ways of thinking without any consideration for the varying social circumstances potentially present in the human remains researched, just reflect another biased obstacle that bioarchaeology is prone to fall to (Arnold 2014).

By applying different time stages (collecting and curating) to the existence of a collection, it is easier to dissect the widely intertwined effects of violence. Both the osteological and archival research strategies used herein suggest potential markers of violence for the individuals of the Tanzania and Madagascar Collection, showing how they were affected during life and post-mortem. This is especially reflected in the presence of taphonomic markers, referring to the labeling of the individuals. By assigning them a number, they were removed from their individual presence and became part of the wider museum collection, ready to be researched for science. Osteological collections in general and the collections at the DA-NHMW in particular were and continue to be essential key pieces for the development of bioarcheological sciences (Berner 2022). However, the continued existence of such osteological collections also perpetuates colonial and racial stereotypes–even when they are being restituted or repatriated, as they continuously represent the existence of marginalized groups (Kurzwelly 2022). Through collecting natural objects and human remains, and actively engaging in the trade and travel networks set up and supported by other European Empires, Austria might not have actively acted as a colonial Power (Sauer 2012). More so, this research further manifests Austria’s role as beneficiary of the then current global situation. Through collecting, it was also seeking glory abroad for its Empiric collections as well as supporting its scientist’s endeavors.