The Unusual Return of Christopher Monig

Illustration of a 17th century apothecary in his workshop. No word on if he was alive or dead at the time.

 

Dedication to duty and a strong work ethic are, of course, admirable qualities.  However, now and then, you come across someone who takes these traits a bit too seriously.  Meet Christopher Monig, a journeyman apothecary who just didn’t know when it was time to quit the job.

Monig lived in Crossen, Silesia.  He died of a brief illness in the spring of 1659, and was given the proper Lutheran burial.  Normally, this would be the end of someone’s story, but Christopher’s had only just begun.  

A few days after Monig’s funeral, his townsfolk were understandably rattled to see him go into his shop, where he did the standard apothecary puttering:  rearranging pots, glasses and the like, examining the medicines, pounding herbs and drugs with the pestle, and so on.  If a customer ventured in, Monig would serve them as efficiently as when he had been alive.  It caused talk.  

After a time, Monig walked out of his shop.  He would enter the homes of people he had known in life, but without speaking a word to anyone.  (Understandably, everyone was too terrified to try initiating a conversation.)  The one exception to this silence was when he told a maidservant to go to her home and dig in a certain lower room of her master’s house.  She would, he explained, find a great treasure there.  Unfortunately, the girl was so unnerved at meeting him that she fainted.  Monig lifted her from the ground, leaving a mark on her that lasted for some time.  

The shock of it all caused the maid to fall ill, but she was able to tell others what Monig had communicated to her.  The place he had indicated was excavated, but nothing was found but a pot containing bloodstones (a gemstone which legend says has healing properties.)

News of Monig’s unexpected return reached the ears of Silesia’s reigning Princess, Elizabeth Charlotte, and she ordered that his coffin be exhumed.  When this was done, it was noted that his corpse was showing the normal amount of decomposition.  Then, someone had the bright idea of having all Monig’s possessions removed from his house.  After this was done, Monig left his lodgings, and Crossen finally saw the last of him.

This strange episode became so well known that it was the subject of a public disputation in the Academy of Leipzig.  You will probably not be surprised to learn that it was of no help whatsoever when it came to explaining the brief second act of Christopher Monig.