In the Middle Ages, being a pirate had its perks: raiding churches, selling the stolen gold, and using the proceeds to buy oneself a bishop’s seat. And voila! You’re now absolving sins and running the church. With enough steel in your balls, you could even become the Pope. Baldassare Cossa had balls of steel.
When he was deposed from the papal throne under the name John XXIII, he was accused of 74 sins, including piracy, rape of 300 nuns, sodomy, torture of bishops, poisoning the Pope, selling church offices, and other things like an orgy with an entire family, including the father, mother, son, and underage daughters. His contemporaries joked that 74 charges were obviously slander, he was only guilty of half of them! And do you know how it all ended? Baldassare Cossa lived a happy life, and his tomb was decorated by none other than Donatello. Because people love truly charming scoundrels.
Baldassare Cossa’s story is one of infamy, but it’s also a testament to the power of charisma. He was able to convince others to follow him, even when his actions were despicable. It’s a cautionary tale about the allure of power and the danger of blindly following those who seek it. But it’s also a reminder that history is filled with colorful characters who captured the imagination of their time and continue to fascinate us centuries later.
Born in 1370 to a family of counts, Baltazar’s father ruled the island of Procida, near Naples. His older brothers were pirates, with the eldest even known as the “admiral of the pirate fleet.” Baltazar himself became enamored with piracy at the age of 13. He enjoyed sailing on galleys and raiding the coast. He continued his pirating ways until he turned 20 and his mother intervened. As the word of a mother is sacred, Baltazar gave up his childhood hobby and left for the city to attend university. His mother was right: his other gangster brothers ended up hanged for piracy, but Baltazar was too precious to lose – he had smart eyes.
He settled in Bologna and pursued a career in theology. Studying the word of God came as easily to him as burning villages and committing rape. He formed a gang of students called the “10 devils,” but this was the 14th century, so they didn’t just toss words around lightly like we do today. They engaged in robbery, fights, and petty extortion. In university, he fell in love with a witch named Jandra de la Scala. She was smart, bold, and too hot for her own good, which landed her a sentence to burn at the stake, according to the inquisitorial records.
Balthazar is not a fool, he immediately killed two inquisitors for her sake, for which he himself ended up behind bars. His student friends and pirates saved him. Together, they took half of the city to hell. Rebellion, arson, a heap of dead inquisitors. The exam session is clearly failed. We need to run away. They ran into the sea, piracy again, slaves again, burning villas and rapes. Kossa and his phaons planned revenge on the priests. They burned monasteries with particular grace, looted altars, and sold nuns to the Berbers. They angered God, who sank the entire fleet, and Balthazar vowed, “If I sail, I will become a priest.” He sailed, but fell into the clutches of some local sadist and pervert, just like in “Pulp Fiction.” The maniac turned out to be Pope Urban VI, a lover of red-hot irons and talking about Hell.
Unexpectedly, Balthazar got along with the sadistic Pope. Like all monsters, he was sentimental. The story of the pirate-theologian’s rescue captivated him, and he offered, “Will you be my executioner?” Refusing was not an option, of course. And Balthazar tortured for the glory of the Pope. Urban had just captured a bunch of bishops who turned up their noses at him and didn’t want to be friends. He tortured them until they recognized him as a kind and glorious guy. As an executioner, Balthazar did well, but the Pope saw a spark of intelligence in him, just like his mother, and made him his henchman. Balthazar went to people who spoke ill of the Pope and made sure they didn’t speak ill anymore. He walked in a cassock because he was no longer a killer but a priest. He fulfilled his vow, pure in front the Lord.
Soon Urban VI gave up his soul to the same Lord, and Benedict XVI took his place. Benedict was afraid of his servant like hell, but he appreciated him. He decided to test him by sending him to suppress the rebellion in his hometown of Bologna. Baltazar did not shed a tear for his homeland and suppressed it so hard that even the inquisitors choked. He tortured them himself, in a beautiful way, but realized that he couldn’t torture everyone. And why bother? He begged Bologna for himself, in memory of his university days.
Before, Baltazar had made a living by extortion on these streets, and now they became his property. It’s good to be a priest, but it’s even better to be a bishop. And he became one. He took out a loan from a bank and spent it wisely – on bribes, to obtain the position. The Pope realized that it was better to be friends with such a bastard and made him his right-hand man. In vain.
He was tired of prostitutes and nuns, and all his enemies were either dead or boring, so he decided it was time to make some new ones. And what better way to do that than by declaring yourself second only to God?
And it wasn’t even that hard since the church already had two Popes at the time – one in Rome, and the other in Avignon – both of whom were accusing each other of being imposters. Talk about church schizophrenia!
So Balthazar saw his opportunity and found an old man who seemed suitable, gathered some other bishops, and convinced them to appoint the old man as the new Pope. They were all so scared of being accused of heresy that they went along with it and met in Pisa to make it official. The old man was named Alexander V and he only ruled for a year before Balthazar had him poisoned and took his place.
And just like that, Balthazar became the new Pope – not as himself, but under the name of the Holy Father John XXIII. Can you believe it? Cunning, right?
Now there were three Popes: two impotent ones and one pirate. “Yes, a pirate, a possible rapist, maybe a bestialist, but all in all not a bad guy,” people thought. And they went along with it. There was a chance to become the only Pope, but Balthazar didn’t sense it. Instead, they sensed him. And all the serious people, who were tired of the Pope madness, gathered to solve everything sensibly. They met in the city of Constance. It would have been good to settle it with knives – then Balthazar would have had a chance.
Each Pope hoped they would be left alone and the others would be cast aside. But the serious people, the emperors and other hierarchs, had a surprise in store. They deposed everyone, even the Roman one. And they raised a new one, under the name of Martin V. Balthazar was charged. 74 points: sodomy, denial of the afterlife, sale of holy relics, murder of Pope Urban, currency transactions, sex with his own granddaughter, arson of monasteries, torture of bishops. Of course, lies and slander. Half of the 74 points were made up.
But being a pirate is serious, it’s forever, and Balthazar was able to flee. He hid, he was caught. Locked behind bars, but he was released for 38,000 gold florins. He remained brazen until the end: he went to the new Pope and asked to be made a bishop again. And the new Pope agreed, giving him his native Bologna. And he lived long and happy again, and died four years later from cancer. And a monument was placed on his grave, made by Donatello himself. It’s very beautiful, it’s a sacred place now.
But being a pirate is serious, it’s forever, and Balthazar was able to flee. He hid, he was caught. Locked behind bars, but he was released for 38,000 gold florins. He remained brazen until the end: he went to the new Pope and asked to be made a bishop again. And the new Pope agreed, giving him his native Bologna. And he lived long and happy again, and died four years later from cancer. And a monument was placed on his grave, made by Donatello himself. It’s very beautiful, it’s a sacred place now.
It may seem that God, who once gave a pirate a second life, did not punish him for his audacity. But He did punish him. When Balthazar returned to the Medici bank for the money he had left there, he hoped to receive interest. After all, it should have accumulated during his time in prison. But the Medici said, “Sorry, but I took the money from Pope John XXIII. I’ll return it to him, but not to you.” The trickster had been tricked, the pirate out-pirated. From that moment on, bankers ruled the world, not popes.
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