In the year 897, a dead man was put on trial.

Not a symbolic trial.

Not a legend.

An actual trial.

The corpse belonged to Pope Formosus.

Nine months after his death, his successor, Pope Stephen VI, ordered Formosus' body exhumed from its tomb beneath St. Peter's Basilica.

The corpse was dressed in papal robes.

Placed upon a throne.

And brought before a church court.

What followed became known as the Cadaver Synod.

One of the strangest events in medieval history.

A deacon stood beside the decaying body and answered questions on behalf of the dead pope while Stephen hurled accusations at the corpse.

Formosus was charged with violating church law, unlawfully becoming pope, and abusing his office.

The outcome was never in doubt.

The dead pope was found guilty.

His election was declared invalid.

His official acts were annulled.

Then the punishment began.

The three fingers used for blessings were cut from the corpse.

His papal vestments were stripped away.

And the body was dragged through the streets of Rome.

Finally, it was thrown into the Tiber River.

The spectacle shocked even many contemporaries.

Romans reportedly viewed the trial with horror.

Political factions turned against Stephen VI.

Within months, the pope who had prosecuted a corpse was himself overthrown, imprisoned, and later died in captivity.

The bizarre episode exposed the chaos consuming the papacy during the late ninth century.

Powerful families, rival factions, and political alliances transformed the highest office in Western Christianity into a battlefield.

In the end, Formosus was rehabilitated.

His convictions were overturned.

His body was recovered and reburied with honor.

But the story endured because it sounds impossible.

A pope put a dead pope on trial.

The corpse lost.

And then history put the prosecutor on trial instead.

Few moments better illustrate how strange medieval politics could become when power eclipsed reason.