The pirates stole jewelry, fine plates, gold, silver, tapestries, and even portable altars, Vatican documents reveal

Oct 1, 2014 20:57 GMT  ·  By
Vatican documents tell the tale of how pirates once stole a dead bishop's treasure
   Vatican documents tell the tale of how pirates once stole a dead bishop's treasure

Dead bishops and pirates almost never come up together in casual conversation, but thanks to a new book, they just might.

In fact, it may be only a matter of time until somebody considers shooting a movie featuring deceased clergymen and fierce plunderers.

The book that sparked this sudden interest in pirates and the Vatican's secret history is dubbed “The Spoils of the Pope and the Pirates, 1357: The Complete Legal Dossier from the Vatican Archives.”

It tells the tale of how, back in the 14th century, a bunch of pirates had the Audacity to steal a dead bishop's treasure without even thinking about how pulling this stunt would ruin their reputation in front of the divine.

As detailed by Live Science, the book is based on Vatican documents written in Latin, which were compiled and edited by Daniel Williman with Binghamton University in New York, US, and private scholar Karen Ann Corsano.

The not-at-all-fictitious story of the bishop and the pirates

According to Daniel Williman and Karen Ann Corsano, Vatican documents say that, one fine morning in 1357, a ship carrying a treasure that used to belong to deceased Lisbon bishop Thibaud de Castillon set sail from Portugal.

Its destination was the town of Avignon in France, which at that time served as a home for Pope Innocent VI. The crew aboard this ship had one very simple mission: deliver the dead bishop's treasure to the Pope.

They failed in completing this task. Thus, historical records say that, while in Spanish waters, not far from the town of Cartagena, the ship was attacked by pirates. More precisely, it was approached by two pirate vessels commanded by one Antonio Botafoc and one Martin Yanes.

It is understood that the pirates aboard these two ships not only outnumbered the cargo vessel's crew, but were also armed with all sorts of swords, knives, and devices engineered to launch stones at high speeds and at impressive distances.

Consequently, the dozen folks entrusted with guarding the treasure and delivering it to the Pope decided that it was best not to put up a fight and let the pirates help themselves to whatever jewelry, tapestries, portable altars, silver, and gold sparked their interest.

Having plundered the ship, the pirates tried to make a run for it. Unfortunately, Antonio Botafoc and his people ran aground in France and were captured by local authorities. Most crew members were hanged shortly after being caught. Botafoc and fellow officers, on the other hand, were sent to prison.

Interestingly enough, it appears that Botafoc and his officers were eventually released. This happened after they struck a deal with the bishop of Torino and authorities. Simply put, these pirates pretty much bought their freedom.

The funny part is that, while authorities were trying to decide what to do with the pirates, local fishermen got busy exploring the beached vessel and took possession of whatever jewelry and money they chanced to come across.

By the time a judge clerk started taking inventory of the things aboard the pirate ship, all that was left of the treasure was some books and ecclesiastical clothes. Both the books and the clothes were sent to the Pope and were either used to pay staff or offered as gifts to royalty.

As far as Martin Yanes and his crew are concerned, it appears that these pirates managed to stay out of trouble and were never seen again. Simply put, they got to keep their part of the treasure and live happily for the rest of their lives.

What was a bishop doing with a treasure anyway?

Technically speaking, bishop Thibaud de Castillon did nothing wrong in acquiring a treasure. Thus, he never took a vow of poverty while in service of the church and the divine, and could therefore collect all the jewelry and money he wanted to.

However, it appears that this bishop got terribly rich by means of speculative trading and lending money with a high interest rate. Simply put, his ways of acquiring wealth were by no means what some would call moral.

“A network of mercantile transactions can be traced as agents of the bishop admit to what they owe or argue that they are owed more than they owe,” Charles Donahue Jr., a professor at Harvard University, writes in the book's preface.

Furthermore, “He governed and exploited the bishopric through a vicar general for three years while he managed a commercial collaboration with the important Montpellier merchants Peire Laugautru and Guilhem Parayre.”