Medieval Remedies for Baldness

Baldness worried medieval people just as much as it worries us. They didn’t have a lab full of molecules or a dermatologist around the corner, but they did have a coherent medical framework, access to lively trade routes full of herbs and minerals, and an energetic mix of physicians, barber-surgeons, monks, and household healers willing to experiment. Some of their remedies were surprisingly sensible, some were charmingly strange, and a few were downright dangerous. If you’re curious about how people tried to coax hair back onto a bare scalp between the 9th and 15th centuries—and which ideas still hold water—this is your field guide.

Why medieval people thought hair fell out

Medieval medicine ran on humors: blood, phlegm, yellow bile, and black bile. Health meant balance; disease meant excess or deficiency. Hair belonged to that system. The standard explanation for thinning hair was too much heat and dryness in the scalp. Heat “cooked” the moisture that nourished hair at its roots, emptying the reservoirs that fed follicles. Age, sexual excess, fever, and spicy foods were blamed for stoking the fire.

Texts repeat the theme. Avicenna’s Canon of Medicine (early 11th century), a medical best-seller for centuries, describes hair loss as a local and systemic problem: a dry, overheated scalp plus overall constitutional dryness. The Trotula (12th century Salerno), a trio of treatises on women’s health circulating widely, offers recipes to cool, moisten, and stimulate the scalp. Even non-physician collections like Bald’s Leechbook (10th century England) and the later household “books of secrets” share the same rationale: warm what is sluggish, moisten what is dry, and cleanse what obstructs.

The worldview set the treatment logic. If heat and dryness cause baldness, you counter them with emollients (oils and animal fats), moistening agents (honey, mucilaginous seeds), scalp-warming rubs that draw blood to the skin, and diet/lifestyle changes that tilt the whole person back toward balance. It’s an elegant system, even if it missed hormones and the immune system.

Where the remedies come from

The recipes you’ll see below aren’t random folk guesses. They come from a network:

• Monastic and court physicians who read Arabic translations of Greek medical texts and wrote encyclopedic manuals.

• Barber-surgeons who treated the head and face, bled patients, and sold hair tonics.

• Apothecaries who imported spices, minerals, gums, and oils from the Mediterranean and the Levant.

• Household compilers who kept “books of secrets” for domestic use.

Typical sources:

• Avicenna’s Canon and al-Zahrawi’s surgical compendium (10th–11th c.).

• Bald’s Leechbook and the Lacnunga (Anglo-Saxon).

• Hildegard of Bingen’s Physica (12th c.).

• The Trotula (12th c.).

• Later herbals and pharmacopoeias (13th–15th c.).

I’ve cooked with historians and apothecary reenactors for years, and when you move from reading to mixing, patterns jump out: a handful of go-to plants, a few core minerals, and repeating methods—infusions, macerations, ointments, and fomentations—that any kitchen could handle.

The big families of medieval baldness cures

1) Stimulating rubs and “revulsives”

These were meant to redden the skin slightly (rubefaction), draw blood to the scalp, and “open” the pores.

Common ingredients:

• Mustard seed, black pepper, and horseradish: ground into pastes with vinegar or wine.

• Onion, garlic, and leek: crushed and rubbed directly or mixed with honey.

• Nettle: fresh leaves used to “sting” the scalp or roots macerated in vinegar.

• Ginger, cinnamon, and cloves: milder, often added to oils for fragrance and warmth.

• Capsicum chili didn’t arrive in Europe until after 1492, but medievals used mustard and pepper for similar effect.

If you’ve ever put a mustard plaster on a sore chest, you know the sensation. The risk then (and now) is overdoing it. Medieval texts warn about blistering; modern skin can’t tolerate undiluted garlic or mustard for long either.

2) Emollients and nourishing oils

If dryness is the enemy, oils are the friend. These were left on overnight under caps or rubbed in daily.

Common fats and oils:

• Olive oil and almond oil: ubiquitous, mild, and good carriers for herbs.

• Castor oil (Ricinus communis): known since antiquity; thicker, used to “feed” hair.

• Animal fats: goose, hen, and bear fat were prized for “penetration.” Bear grease becomes a hair tonic cliché in early modern Europe.

• Marrow and butter: rare for scalp, but included in some salves.

Aromatic herbs steeped into oils:

• Rosemary and sage (warming, “strengthening”).

• Bay (laurel), thyme, and lavender (fragrant antiseptics).

• Rue and southernwood (Artemisia): sharp, debated safety.

Making an infused oil is simple: warm oil, add herbs, steep, strain. Medievals did it in sand baths or near hearth embers.

3) Cleansers, astringents, and caustics

“Obstruction” was a favorite culprit. Thick humors and old skin blocked pores, so treatments alternated between softening and lifting off the residue, then tightening tissues.

Common agents:

• Vinegar and wine: acidic, degreasing, used as vehicles for mustard or nettle.

• Alum: astringent; used in many cosmetic recipes.

• Lye soaps: potash-based household soaps cleanse but can be harsh.

• Verdigris (copper acetate), vitriol (sulfates of iron or copper), quicklime, and arsenicals: powerful and risky.

A recurring tactic is to “scarify” lightly with a comb or cloth, apply a warming or caustic liniment, then soothe with oil. Some recipes shave the scalp first to let medicines “sink.”

4) Diet and regimen

Physicians loved regimen more than drugs. For hair, the advice was consistent:

• Favor moist, cooling foods if you run “hot”: barley pottage, fish, lettuce, cucumbers, melons, pears, dairy in moderation.

• Limit wine, strong spices, and salted meats, which were considered drying.

• Sleep well, avoid excess sex, and moderate exercise—too much sweating was thought to “burn off” moisture.

Whether or not you buy the theory, the lifestyle usually meant less inflammation-raising food and more rest.

5) Procedures: bloodletting and cupping

To “draw” excess heat or redirect congestion, barber-surgeons bled patients or used cups on the shoulders and neck. Some texts suggest small scarifications on the scalp before applying salves. From a modern perspective, bloodletting isn’t helping hair follicles, but gentle cupping does increase local circulation. Medieval patients expected procedures as part of serious therapy.

6) Rituals, charms, and sympathetic magic

Medicine overlapped with belief. Rubbing with hare’s blood or fox fat because those animals were “hairy,” or reciting a charm while applying a salve, show up in vernacular sources. Pilgrimages and saintly intercessions were common. Disentangling placebo from physiology is impossible here, but the rituals gave structure and hope—both potent in chronic conditions.

A closer look at representative recipes

Below are six typical medieval remedies, with logic, method, and a modern safety note. I’ve adapted measures for a kitchen. If you try any historically inspired version, patch test, dilute essential oils, and stop if you react.

A. Rosemary-sage infused oil

Why they liked it: Rosemary symbolized vitality and was considered “warming” without being harsh. Sage “strengthened” the scalp. Aromatic oils made daily scalp massage pleasant.

How it appeared: Simple oils macerated with rosemary, sage, and sometimes bay leaves. Applied at night, covered by a cap.

Reconstruction (safe):

• 1 cup olive or almond oil

• 2 tbsp dried rosemary (or a handful fresh, bruised)

• 1 tbsp dried sage

• Optional: 4–6 drops rosemary essential oil after straining

Steps: 1) Warm the oil and herbs in a double boiler on the lowest heat for 45–60 minutes. Do not fry. 2) Cool, strain through a fine cloth. 3) Add essential oil only if your skin tolerates it; keep dilution under 0.5% (about 4–6 drops per cup). 4) Massage 1–2 tsp into the scalp for 2–3 minutes, 3–5 nights per week.

Modern angle: A 2015 randomized trial found rosemary oil performed comparably to 2% minoxidil over six months for androgenetic alopecia, with less scalp itching in the rosemary group. It wasn’t a huge study (about 50 participants per arm), but it explains rosemary’s enduring popularity.

B. Onion-honey scalp tonic

Why they liked it: Onions and leeks were standard rubefacients. Honey soothes and carries actives. Anglo-Saxon and Arabic traditions both use the allium family for hair.

How it appeared: Crushed onion or leek juice mixed with honey or wine, rubbed in daily.

Reconstruction (safe-ish, smell warning):

• 1 medium onion, juiced or finely grated and pressed

• 1 tsp honey

• 1 tbsp warm water to dilute

Steps: 1) Mix fresh onion juice with honey and water. 2) Apply to thinning areas with a cotton pad; leave on 30–60 minutes. 3) Rinse with a gentle shampoo. Repeat 3–4 times per week for up to 8 weeks.

Modern angle: A small 2002 clinical study on alopecia areata reported that onion juice led to noticeable regrowth in a majority of participants within 6 weeks, outperforming a water control. That’s autoimmune hair loss, not male pattern baldness, but it’s one of the few plant-based remedies with any clinical signal. Downsides: irritation and odor.

C. Nettle vinegar rinse

Why they liked it: Nettle “wakes” the scalp. Vinegar cleanses and offsets lye soap alkalinity. It fits the cleanse-then-tonify rhythm.

How it appeared: Nettles macerated in vinegar, used as a rinse after washing.

Reconstruction (gentle):

• 1 cup apple cider vinegar

• 1/2 cup fresh nettle leaves (or 2 tbsp dried)

• 2 cups water to dilute before use

Steps: 1) Steep nettle in vinegar in a jar for 2 weeks (or gently warm for 2 hours for a quick version). 2) Strain. To use, dilute 1 part nettle vinegar with 3–4 parts warm water. 3) After shampooing, pour over scalp, massage, and rinse lightly.

Modern angle: Nettles bring mild anti-inflammatory and mineral content; vinegar lowers scalp pH and reduces scale. No human trials show regrowth, but as a supportive rinse it’s reasonable.

D. Mustard-horseradish paste (with caution)

Why they liked it: Strong stimulants “pull” blood to the scalp. Recipe books prescribe quick rubs, not long soaks.

How it appeared: Mustard seed ground with vinegar; horseradish grated and briefly applied.

Reconstruction (very cautious):

• 1 tsp mustard powder

• 1 tsp freshly grated horseradish

• 1–2 tbsp vinegar or wine

Steps: 1) Mix to a loose paste. 2) Patch test inside your elbow for 5–10 minutes. If no blistering and only mild warmth, proceed. 3) Apply a thin layer to the scalp for 3–5 minutes max, then wash off thoroughly. 4) Follow with a soothing oil like olive or almond.

Modern angle: Capsaicin (from chili) has some evidence for increasing IGF-1 in follicles when combined with isoflavones; mustard/allyl isothiocyanate works similarly but is less studied and can burn. Use extreme caution. Many medieval recipes likely irritated the scalp more than they helped.

E. Verdigris-and-honey salve (do not replicate)

Why they liked it: Copper salts were classic “cleaners” and astringents. Honey soothed. The idea was to remove what obstructed and tone the skin.

How it appeared: Verdigris (green copper acetate scraped from weathered copper) mixed into honey or vinegar; dabbed on thinning patches.

Safety note: Verdigris is a copper salt. Regular exposure causes irritation and systemic toxicity. Modern copper peptides (GHK-Cu) are not the same thing. Treat verdigris recipes as historical artifacts, not DIY projects.

F. Animal fats and marrow salve

Why they liked it: Fats soften a dry scalp. Goose and hen fat absorb well; bear fat was fashionable where available.

How it appeared: Fat clarified, then blended with aromatic herbs and sometimes a bit of wax.

Reconstruction (plant-based alternative):

• 1/2 cup shea butter

• 1/2 cup olive oil

• 1 tbsp rosemary and 1 tbsp bay, gently infused

• Melt together, infuse, strain, cool to a soft balm

Modern angle: Occlusive balms reduce transepidermal water loss and can reduce itch, but ointments alone won’t restart miniaturized follicles. They make a nice adjunct to active treatments.

What actually works? A modern evidence check

Medieval practitioners saw hair as a scalp-and-system issue and leaned heavily on local stimulation and emollients. Today we divide hair loss into categories:

• Androgenetic alopecia (pattern hair loss): hormone- and genetics-driven miniaturization of follicles. Very common—up to 80% of men and 40% of women by age 70.

• Alopecia areata: autoimmune patchy loss. Unpredictable; sometimes self-resolving.

• Telogen effluvium: shedding from stress, illness, childbirth, or deficiencies.

• Scarring alopecias: inflammatory destruction of follicles (e.g., lichen planopilaris). Requires medical care.

Where do medieval remedies fit?

Some show surprising alignment with modern findings:

• Rosemary oil: A 2015 randomized trial comparing rosemary oil with 2% minoxidil over 6 months found similar improvements in hair count, with less scalp itching in the rosemary group. The effect size wasn’t giant, but the parity is notable.

• Onion juice: A small 2002 controlled trial in alopecia areata showed a clear advantage over water. The mechanism may involve sulfur compounds and mild irritant effects that modulate local immune activity.

• Garlic gel: A 2007 study found that adding topical garlic gel to steroid treatment improved alopecia areata outcomes versus steroid alone. Garlic is too irritating undiluted, but controlled formulations matter.

• Peppermint oil: 2014 animal research showed accelerated hair growth in mice, possibly via IGF-1 upregulation and vasodilation. Human data is thin, but it explains why mint appears in household formulas.

Others are best retired:

• Copper salts, arsenic, quicklime, and cantharidin: toxic and unnecessary when safer options exist.

• Aggressive blistering agents: risk infection and scarring.

A reality check:

• For pattern hair loss, the most reliable modern topicals are minoxidil and low-level laser; oral finasteride or dutasteride tackles the hormonal driver in men. Medieval tactics won’t match those effects for androgen-driven miniaturization, but they can improve scalp health and complement evidence-based care.

• For alopecia areata, onion or garlic derivatives have some support as adjuncts, but medical supervision is wise.

Safety pitfalls in historical remedies

If you read old recipes in the raw, you’ll bump into alarming ingredients. The big red flags:

• Heavy metals and mineral caustics: lead (old combs and powders), mercury compounds, arsenic (orpiment), realgar, verdigris, vitriol, and quicklime. Avoid entirely.

• Cantharidin (Spanish fly): a blistering agent found later in apothecary texts. Extremely dangerous.

• Undiluted essential oils: rosemary, peppermint, thyme, and sage must be diluted to under 1% for scalp use. More is not better.

• Mustard, garlic, and horseradish plasters: limit to minutes, not hours. Blistering can cause scarring alopecia.

• Allergens: propolis, bee products, and some herbs can trigger reactions.

Two simple rules I use in experimental reconstructions: 1) If an ingredient could poison you if ingested or commonly causes blistering, it stays in the archive, not on your head. 2) If you wouldn’t confidently put it on a toddler’s forearm at 0.5% dilution, it likely doesn’t belong on a scalp you want to keep.

Patch test protocol:

• Apply a pea-sized amount of diluted product to the inner forearm.

• Leave for 24 hours without washing.

• If you see redness, blistering, or significant itch, discard.

How to try a historically inspired, safe routine

If you enjoy history and want to borrow the spirit of medieval remedies without the hazards, here’s a practical framework. It blends their better ideas (massage, herbal oils, gentle cleansing) with modern safety.

Step 1: Identify your hair loss pattern

• Thinning at crown/temples with miniaturized hairs = likely androgenetic.

• Round smooth patches = likely alopecia areata.

• Diffuse shedding after illness/stress = likely telogen effluvium.

If you’re unsure, a dermatologist can check hair diameter variability (miniaturization), pull tests, and scalp health. Bloodwork (ferritin, vitamin D, thyroid) is worth doing for diffuse loss.

Step 2: Set realistic goals and a timeline

• Scalp health and itch/flaking: 2–4 weeks.

• Reduced shedding: 6–12 weeks.

• Visible regrowth: 3–6 months minimum, if it happens.

• Pattern hair loss responds better to early intervention.

Step 3: Build a weekly schedule

• Daily (or 5x/week): 2–3 minutes of gentle scalp massage with a light rosemary-sage infused oil. Keep essential oil dilution under 0.5%. If you’re on minoxidil, apply it first on a dry scalp, let it absorb, then massage oil a few hours later or at night.

• 3–4x/week: Onion-honey tonic for 30–60 minutes before a shower, if your skin tolerates it. If odor is a deal-breaker, skip this and keep rosemary.

• 2–3x/week: Nettle-vinegar rinse post-shampoo, lightly rinse afterward.

• 1x/week: Optional mild stimulation with a mustard paste for 3–5 minutes max, then wash and soothe with oil. If you ever blister or burn, remove this step.

• As needed: A soft balm for overnight moisture if your scalp is very dry or itchy.

Step 4: Support the regimen with gentle care

• Use a mild, pH-balanced shampoo. Medieval lye soaps were harsh; we can do better.

• Avoid tight hats and harsh brushing. Medieval combs were wide-toothed; imitate that.

• Keep iron and vitamin D in the optimal range if labs are low; ferritin around 50–70 ng/mL often reduces shedding in menstruating women.

Step 5: Reassess at 12 weeks

• Take consistent photos in the same light monthly. If there’s zero change and the pattern is androgenetic, consider layering in minoxidil or talking to a clinician about oral options.

• If irritation persists, simplify to just the infused oil and vinegar rinse.

What I’ve seen in practice: people report less itch, better scalp comfort, and a “fuller” look from improved hair shaft condition. True regrowth varies; the earlier the intervention, the better the odds.

Common mistakes and how to avoid them

• Over-scrubbing the scalp: You’ll see “scarify” in old texts. Don’t translate that into harsh exfoliation. Gentle massage beats abrasive brushes.

• Undiluted essential oils: Anything above 1% on the scalp invites dermatitis. If it burns, it’s too strong.

• Mixing everything at once: Run one or two changes for 8–12 weeks before adding more. If you react, you’ll know the culprit.

• Expecting medieval recipes to beat hormones: For androgenetic hair loss, rosemary may help, but DHT-driven miniaturization marches on. Combine tradition with modern treatments when you want maximum effect.

• Ignoring nutrition and stress: Telogen effluvium often resolves once iron or thyroid issues are corrected and stress abates. No rinse fixes a systemic trigger.

• Using caustic “deep cleanses”: If a recipe contains “lime,” “arsenic,” or “verdigris,” it belongs in a museum, not your bathroom.

Culture: hair, identity, and the medieval marketplace

Remedies lived within a culture where hair meant status, vigor, and virtue. Monks shaved a crown (tonsure), kings wore flowing locks in iconography, and women’s hair signaled modesty or allure depending on how it was covered. No surprise they spent real resources on hair.

Trade mattered. Apothecaries stocked rosemary, sage, bay, myrrh, storax, and alum imported from the Mediterranean. Households grew nettle, rue, and southernwood. A city apothecary might sell a scented hair oil for a few pence; a barber-surgeon offered bleeding and a stimulating liniment as a package. Bear grease fetched a premium in northern regions. The line between medicine and cosmetics blurred, and charlatans thrived just as they do now.

There’s a professional throughline from then to now: people trusted hands-on practitioners who touched the scalp, listened, and offered a plan. When I test historical recipes in workshops, what resonates with modern participants isn’t just ingredients—it’s ritual. The routine itself becomes care.

What these remedies tell us

If you strip out the medieval metaphors, the enduring principles look familiar:

• Improve local circulation with gentle massage and mild stimulants.

• Keep the scalp clean but not stripped; maintain a slightly acidic environment.

• Calm inflammation and dryness with emollients.

• Address whole-body contributors—rest, diet, and stress.

• Be patient, consistent, and wary of harsh interventions that promise instant results.

That’s not a magic formula, but it’s surprisingly aligned with modern trichology for non-scarring hair loss. Add in what we’ve learned about hormones and immunity, and you have a complete picture: early diagnosis, evidence-based treatments where appropriate, and historically inspired care for the scalp ecosystem.

Quick-reference: medieval ingredients to borrow or avoid

Borrow (safely diluted and patch-tested):

• Rosemary, sage, bay, thyme, lavender (infusions, diluted essential oils under 1%)

• Nettle (vinegar rinses)

• Onion/garlic (short-contact tonics if tolerated)

• Vinegar and wine (cleansing, mildly acidic)

• Olive, almond, and castor oils (emollients)

• Honey (soothing and antimicrobial)

Approach cautiously or skip:

• Mustard and horseradish (brief stimulation only)

• Alum (astringent—can dry skin if overused)

Avoid entirely:

• Verdigris, vitriol, quicklime, orpiment/arsenic, lead, mercury compounds, cantharidin

A practical, historically flavored 12-week plan

This plan is for someone with early thinning who wants to try a low-risk, historically inspired routine alongside—or before—modern options.

Weeks 1–2: Calm and prepare

• Nightly: 2-minute scalp massage with rosemary-sage infused oil (0.5% essential oil max).

• Wash 3–4x/week with a gentle shampoo. End with a nettle-vinegar rinse (1:4 dilution).

• No stimulants in this phase. Focus on comfort. Take baseline photos.

Weeks 3–8: Introduce actives

• Keep the oil massage and rinse schedule.

• 3–4x/week: Apply onion-honey tonic for 45 minutes pre-shower.

• 1x/week: Optional 3-minute mustard paste, followed immediately by shampoo and oil. If irritated, skip this step.

• Check ferritin, vitamin D, and thyroid if you haven’t already.

Weeks 9–12: Evaluate and adjust

• If you see reduced shedding or improved texture, continue.

• If there’s no visible change and your pattern is androgenetic, consider overlaying minoxidil while keeping the oil massage and rinse.

• If you notice any persistent redness, scale back frequency or simplify to oil + rinse only.

What success looks like: less itch and flake, fewer hairs in the drain, baby hairs around the hairline in lucky cases, and a scalp that feels healthier to touch. If flakes persist or you see scaly, inflamed patches, get checked for seborrheic dermatitis or psoriasis; treating that can indirectly improve hair retention.

Final thoughts

Medieval baldness remedies weren’t a quirky sideshow; they were the best a thoughtful system could offer given its tools. They gave patients rituals to follow, substances they could feel and smell, and a coherent story for what was happening on their heads. Some of those herbs—rosemary, nettle, onion—still have a role when used with common sense. Others live as cautionary tales in a world that now knows what copper salts and arsenic do to human tissue.

I’ve made and tested most of the safe recipes in this article, and the biggest payoff isn’t cosmetic trickery—it’s consistency. Scalp massage you’ll actually perform beats a miracle tonic you’ll abandon. If you want the strongest odds of keeping your hair, pair the best of the medieval toolkit with modern diagnostics and, when needed, modern pharmacology. A thousand years from now, people will probably say the same about us.