Ancient bones found in Spanish cave reveal violent Neolithic clash

Archaeologists in Spain have uncovered chilling evidence of a 5,700-year-old massacre in which men, women, and children were butchered, cooked, and eaten—possibly in a single episode of intergroup violence.

In a cave on the southern slope of the Sierra de Atapuerca, researchers found the scattered remains of at least eleven people whose deaths were anything but peaceful. Their bones, cut, broken, burned, and even bearing human teeth marks, tell the story of a grim end. Boiling left some with a telltale sheen, and fractures on long bones suggest marrow extraction, ZME Science writes. 

Radiocarbon dating and taphonomic analysis—studying the marks left on bone—indicate the killings took place rapidly. The victims, thought to be a nuclear or extended family all local to the region, may have been targeted during a violent clash between neighbouring farming communities.

“Cannibalism is one of the most complex behaviors to interpret,” said Palmira Saladié, a paleoecologist at the Catalan Institute of Human Paleoecology and Social Evolution (IPHES) and lead author of the study in Scientific Reports. “Moreover, in many cases, we lack all the necessary evidence to associate it with a specific behavioral context. Finally, societal biases tend to interpret it invariably as an act of barbarism.”

The grisly discovery was made in El Mirador cave, a site with a long history of human use. Once a Neolithic sheepfold, it became the scene of slaughter around 5,700–5,570 years ago.

Excavations revealed 650 human bone fragments bearing clear signs of postmortem processing: cut marks from knives and stone tools, skinning, disarticulation, evisceration, and smashed skulls—likely to reach the brain. Many specimens combined burn marks, the glossy surface of boiling, and the indentations of human teeth.

The victims ranged from under seven years old to over fifty, with children, adolescents, and adults represented in nearly equal measure—a demographic spread inconsistent with famine.

“This was neither a funerary tradition nor a response to extreme famine,” said archaeologist Francesc Marginedas of IPHES and the University of Rovira i Virgili. “The evidence points to a violent episode, given how quickly it all took place—possibly the result of conflict between neighboring farming communities.”

Cannibalism is known in Europe’s archaeological record, from France’s Fontbrégoua Cave to Germany’s Herxheim site, sometimes linked to warfare, ritual, or social upheaval.

El Mirador is remarkable for the clarity of its evidence—combining cooking, marrow extraction, cut marks, and tooth impressions.

Although no weapon injuries were found, researchers warn that many fatal blows leave no skeletal trace. Similar massacres in Talheim, Germany, and Els Trocs, Spain, wiped out entire communities, including children, hinting at shared motives.

“Conflict and the development of strategies to manage and prevent it are part of human nature,” said Antonio Rodríguez-Hidalgo, an archaeozoologist at Spain’s Institute of Archaeology–Mérida. “Even in less stratified, small-scale societies, violent episodes can occur in which enemies could be consumed as a form of ultimate elimination.”

Ethnographic parallels suggest such acts could serve as the most complete form of erasure—denying the dead burial, erasing their memory, and symbolically absorbing their vitality.

The findings add to evidence that the Late Neolithic was an era of rising tensions as farming spread, populations grew, and competition for land intensified.

“The recurrence of these practices at different moments in recent prehistory makes El Mirador a key site for understanding prehistoric human cannibalism,” Saladié said, “and its relationship to death, as well as possible ritual or cultural interpretations of the human body.”

Whatever the motives, the bones from El Mirador capture a moment when human conflict reached its most unsettling extreme—when the victors consumed the vanquished, erasing them in flesh as well as in memory. This time, however, history has preserved their story.

Archaeologists in Spain have uncovered chilling evidence of a 5,700-year-old massacre in which men, women, and children were butchered, cooked, and eaten—possibly in a single episode of intergroup violence.

In a cave on the southern slope of the Sierra de Atapuerca, researchers found the scattered remains of at least eleven people whose deaths were anything but peaceful.

Their bones, cut, broken, burned, and even bearing human teeth marks, tell the story of a grim end. Boiling left some with a telltale sheen, and fractures on long bones suggest marrow extraction.

Radiocarbon dating and taphonomic analysis—studying the marks left on bone—indicate the killings took place rapidly. The victims, thought to be a nuclear or extended family all local to the region, may have been targeted during a violent clash between neighboring farming communities.

“Cannibalism is one of the most complex behaviors to interpret,” said Palmira Saladié, a paleoecologist at the Catalan Institute of Human Paleoecology and Social Evolution (IPHES) and lead author of the study in Scientific Reports. “Moreover, in many cases, we lack all the necessary evidence to associate it with a specific behavioral context. Finally, societal biases tend to interpret it invariably as an act of barbarism.”

The grisly discovery was made in El Mirador cave, a site with a long history of human use. Once a Neolithic sheepfold, it became the scene of slaughter around 5,700–5,570 years ago.

Excavations revealed 650 human bone fragments bearing clear signs of postmortem processing: cut marks from knives and stone tools, skinning, disarticulation, evisceration, and smashed skulls—likely to reach the brain. Many specimens combined burn marks, the glossy surface of boiling, and the indentations of human teeth.

The victims ranged from under seven years old to over fifty, with children, adolescents, and adults represented in nearly equal measure—a demographic spread inconsistent with famine.

“This was neither a funerary tradition nor a response to extreme famine,” said archaeologist Francesc Marginedas of IPHES and the University of Rovira i Virgili. “The evidence points to a violent episode, given how quickly it all took place—possibly the result of conflict between neighboring farming communities.”

Cannibalism is known in Europe’s archaeological record, from France’s Fontbrégoua Cave to Germany’s Herxheim site, sometimes linked to warfare, ritual, or social upheaval. El Mirador is remarkable for the clarity of its evidence—combining cooking, marrow extraction, cut marks, and tooth impressions.

Although no weapon injuries were found, researchers warn that many fatal blows leave no skeletal trace. Similar massacres in Talheim, Germany, and Els Trocs, Spain, wiped out entire communities, including children, hinting at shared motives.

“Conflict and the development of strategies to manage and prevent it are part of human nature,” said Antonio Rodríguez-Hidalgo, an archaeozoologist at Spain’s Institute of Archaeology–Mérida. “Even in less stratified, small-scale societies, violent episodes can occur in which enemies could be consumed as a form of ultimate elimination.”

Ethnographic parallels suggest such acts could serve as the most complete form of erasure—denying the dead burial, erasing their memory, and symbolically absorbing their vitality.

The findings add to evidence that the Late Neolithic was an era of rising tensions as farming spread, populations grew, and competition for land intensified.

“The recurrence of these practices at different moments in recent prehistory makes El Mirador a key site for understanding prehistoric human cannibalism,” Saladié said, “and its relationship to death, as well as possible ritual or cultural interpretations of the human body.”

Whatever the motives, the bones from El Mirador capture a moment when human conflict reached its most unsettling extreme—when the victors consumed the vanquished, erasing them in flesh as well as in memory. This time, however, history has preserved their story.

By Sabina Mammadli