The curious case of the air-dried chaplain

In a quiet village church in the Austrian countryside lies a cool stone crypt where, instead of a skeleton, visitors encounter a remarkably preserved human body dating back nearly three centuries. For generations, both locals and scholars wondered how this “air-dried chaplain” of St. Thomas am Blasenstein had remained in such pristine condition. Was it a miracle? A natural accident? Or an intentional act of preservation?

Today, thanks to researchers armed with CT scans, isotope analysis, and meticulous detective work, the mystery has finally been solved. The results, published in Frontiers in Medicine, tell a story that weaves together medicine, history, and intrigue in equal measure.

The mummy in question lay in the small parish church of St. Thomas am Blasenstein in Upper Austria, a few kilometers north of the Danube River. Villagers had long whispered that he was a priest named Franz Xaver Sidler von Rosenegg, born in 1709, who served the parish around 1740 before dying young in 1746.

For nearly 300 years, his incredibly well-preserved body drew speculation and even devotion. Some believed the dry climate of the crypt naturally mummified him. Others whispered about supernatural forces or spoke of miraculous healings linked to his remains. Early scientists puzzled over him, too. In 1967, pathologist Ekkehard Kleiss described the body but couldn’t explain its condition. In 2000, an Austrian pharmacologist even spotted a mysterious round object in the abdomen on X-ray, leading to rumors that the chaplain had been poisoned.

But none of these theories stuck. So the chaplain remained a mystery.

In the early 2000s, renovations in the church gave scientists a rare chance to study the mummy in detail. The team, including scholars at Ludwig-Maximilians University in Munich and collaborators from research labs in Austria, Poland, and Germany, took the chaplain on a scientific journey that would finally reveal his secrets.

Using CT scans, radiocarbon dating, isotope analysis, histology, and toxicology, they reconstructed how his body was preserved and how he lived and died.

Who was the chaplain?

The evidence confirmed that the mummy was indeed Franz Xaver Sidler von Rosenegg, a young aristocrat turned Augustinian monk. He was 35–45 years old at death (consistent with parish records stating he died at 37). His height was around 176 cm in life (a bit above average for his time). His diet was rich in animal protein, the kind of diet associated with the upper classes and monastic communities of 18th-century Europe. Stable isotope analysis showed he ate plenty of terrestrial meat and fish. As far as lifestyle is concerned, his bones showed no signs of heavy labor, unsurprising for a man of his station. Also, his teeth revealed wear patterns typical of someone who habitually held a pipe, suggesting he was a smoker.

A deadly disease and an eerie discovery

The chaplain’s lungs told a sad story. His right lung was scarred with calcifications and cavities. Microscopic analysis showed the black specks of anthracosis, consistent with exposure to smoke from pipes and indoor fires. But the real culprit was tuberculosis, a disease that ravaged Europe in the 18th century. Specifically, the scientists concluded that Sidler suffered from chronic, active pulmonary tuberculosis, which likely caused a sudden hemorrhage in his lungs. Without antibiotics, tuberculosis was often a slow, wasting death sentence, and many victims, like Sidler, succumbed in their thirties or forties. The isotope analysis of his tissues even showed signs of metabolic stress in his final months, consistent with illness-related wasting.

The most astonishing finding wasn’t about his health, but about what lay inside his body. When researchers scanned and later partially opened the chaplain, they discovered that his abdominal and pelvic cavities were stuffed with foreign material including wood chips and twigs from fir and spruce, large amounts of cloth, including embroidered linen, hemp, flax, cotton, and even fine silk, and a hollow glass bead, probably from a rosary. Even more surprising: chemical analysis revealed the presence of zinc chloride (with traces of copper and arsenic), substances known for their drying and antimicrobial properties. But how was all this material inserted? Ehm...through the rectum.

Yes, instead of opening the chest or abdomen with incisions (as the ancient Egyptians did), Sidler’s embalmers packed his body from below, filling him with absorbent material soaked in preservative chemicals. This unusual method effectively dried out his trunk while leaving his head and extremities less well preserved.

The result? An 18th-century “DIY embalming” job that left a remarkably intact torso.

Why embalm him this way?

In Catholic Austria of the 1700s, embalming was rare and usually reserved for royalty or nobles. Sidler wasn’t a king, but as a local aristocrat and cleric, he held some standing. Why the unusual method? The researchers suggest it may have been a practical health precaution. Tuberculosis was infectious, and people at the time believed in “miasma”, the spread of disease through foul odors from corpses. By embalming Sidler in this way, his community may have hoped to prevent contagion. Of course, later generations, finding his intact body, interpreted it differently: as miraculous preservation.

In this story, science and folklore intertwine. For centuries, villagers believed his body was proof of divine intervention. In reality, it was the result of an ingenious but forgotten embalming technique, combined with the dedication of a community that wanted to honor their priest. It’s easy to think of mummies as relics, but studies like this remind us they were once living people. Franz Xaver Sidler was a man who grew up in a turbulent Europe, lived a relatively comfortable life, and died of one of history’s most dreaded diseases.

The chaplain’s case adds to our knowledge of European embalming traditions, which are far less studied than Egyptian ones. It also shows how communities in the past handled contagious diseases, lessons that resonate in our own time of global pandemics. And perhaps most importantly, it transforms a curiosity in a crypt into a fully fleshed-out human story.

If you want to learn more, read the original article titled "The Mystery of the "Air-dried Chaplain" solved: the Life and "Afterlife" of an unusual Human Mummy from 18th century Austria" on Frontiers in Medicine at http://dx.doi.org/10.3389/fmed.2025.1560050.