The question of religion in our German ancestors’ time would seem quite strange to the modern American reader. After the Protestant Reformation, most inhabitants were obliged to follow the official religion of their leader, be that Catholic, Lutheran or Calvinist. This is an oversimplification, but the whole picture has been painted in many books and for the purpose of our story here, is unnecessary.

Suffice it to say, where one was from and one’s religion were, for a very long time, linked. And, in the case of the unknown man who died on the roadside between Flieden and Schlüchtern in the 1720s, this distinction resulted in a bit of fortune for the Catholic church in Flieden.

This translation comes from Hessenland: Journal for the Cultural Preservation of the Regional Association of Hesse:

About an hour from Flieden towards Schlüchtern, there still stands a boundary stone that marks the old border between the former Principality of Fulda and the County of Hanau. Three steps from this border, on Hanau territory, the body of a foreign, unknown man was found one day.

The investigation revealed that neither suicide nor any other act of violence had occurred. It was likely that the man had died a sudden death. He had no papers with him that could reveal who he was, where he came from, or what his religious denomination was.

The question then arose as to where the body should be buried. Since it was found on Hanau territory, the pastor of Schlüchtern had the right to conduct the burial in his churchyard. However, a rosary was found in the deceased’s pocket, which was considered a sure sign that the man belonged to the Catholic faith. Therefore, the pastor of Flieden buried him according to Catholic rites in the local cemetery and said a holy mass for the repose of the deceased’s soul.

This was a benefit that the man had surely wished for in life, and the rosary he carried with him was what had helped him obtain it. To save further costs, the body, along with the clothes, was lowered into the grave without a coffin.

On June 8, 1729, under Adolf von Dalberg, during the burial of the innkeeper Bernard Haas from Flieden, it was time to dig up this grave again.

Suddenly, one of the gravediggers shouted, “I found a gold coin!”

Then another, “So did I!” and a third, “Me too!”

When they finished their work, they had found a total of 83 ducats in the grave. How had the money ended up there? Without a doubt, the foreign man had sewn these gold coins into his clothes to protect them from robbers, who were not uncommon at the time, and since he had been buried along with his clothes without a closer examination, the coins had been buried with him.

What happened with the money? The finders brought it to the pastor, who handed it over to the prince. Constantin von Buttlar had rebuilt and completed the parish church in Flieden in 1718 and 1719, but the two side altars were still missing; his successor Adolf von Dalberg had these altars beautifully crafted in gypsum marble, using the found money for this purpose.