Among my earliest datable memories is the television news coverage of the death of John XXIII and subsequent ceremonies leading up to the coronation of Paul VI. Not that I remember much: I was not yet three, and all that sticks in my mind is a vague impression of black and white images of men processing back and forth in robes. By way of contrast, the ceremonies surrounding the death of John Paul II and the elevation of Benedict XVI are crystal clear in my mind, not least because I was invited to comment on the proceedings for the ABC network’s fledgling 24 cable news network. Moreover, the audience for John Paul’s funeral was much larger: five million pilgrims streamed into Rome to attend, and two billion watched on television. But that was far from the only difference 42 years made; the Papal funeral, election, and installation ceremonies themselves had altered tremendously from the 1963, which was substantially unchanged from the method used for the preceding six centuries.

A large part of the reason for this was Paul VI’s enormous paring down of the Papal Court; to understand how the ceremonial changed, we must first look at the body of men responsible for carrying out the rituals, and at the traditional means of making the transition from one Pope to another.

To begin with it must be borne in mind that the Pope was and is a temporal sovereign as well as a spiritual leader (in much the same way that the Dalai Lama was/is). Until the problems of 1860-70, he ruled over Rome and a broad band of central Italy; prior to the French Revolution, the district around Avignon in southern France also fell within his dominions. Just as Monarchs like the Holy Roman Emperor and the Kings of France, England, Spain and so on had glittering courts that both lent glamour to the ruler’s palace and assisted him in governing, so too with the Holy See.

Since the Pope ruled both a universal Church and a fairly small country, his court was correspondingly made up of both clerical and lay positions. The latter were recruited from the local nobility, which in turn was made up of three categories. One the one hand, the old Roman noble families --- clans like the Colonna, Orsini, Pallavicini, Chigi, and Cesarini --- claimed long histories intertwined with the Papacy, sometimes as friends, sometimes as foes, sometimes as occupants; the last named even maintained that they were in fact descendants of the Caesars. A few held themselves to be descended from the pre-Christian aristocracy of Rome, more dated their origins to subsequent invaders and conquerors. Such families as the Barberini, Borgia, and Borghese descended (usually collaterally) from Popes themselves. Both of these groupings built beautiful palaces and villas around Rome --- most of which are now museums, government offices, embassies and the like, but some few of which remain in private hands. Lastly, as sovereigns the Popes also created titles nobles for services rendered to the Holy See --- princes, dukes, marquises, counts, and barons.

When the Italians seized Rome in 1870, the Roman nobility spilt into two groups --- the “Whites,” who supported the new regime, and the “Blacks,” who refused to. Staying loyal to Bl. Pius IX and his successors, they prized their positions at the Papal court, while their opposite numbers graced that of the King of Italy at the Quirinal Palace across town. This situation lasted until 1929, when the treaty of the Lateran, establishing the Vatican City State and ending the Roman Question permitted the two branches of Rome’s elite to reunite socially.

The Papal Court was and is made up of two important categories: the Papal Chapel and the Papal Household. The First named consists of all the lay and clerical dignitaries who accompany the Pope in solemn procession into St. Peter’s. These include the various Cardinals and other high-ranking prelates who run the various departments of the Roman Curia, various ecclesiastical protonotaries and chamberlains (who are called monsignori; honorary holders of these titles are senior priests all over the world who are addressed, in English, as “monsignor”), and, traditionally certain elevated laymen. Among the most notable of these were the two Prince Assistants at the Pontifical Throne, usually the heads of the Colonna and Orsini families, who succeeded each other in carrying out their office. There were also the four “Marquises of the Canopy,” the heads of the Patrizi, Sachetti, Theodoli, and Costaguti clans, who, in return for this service, received certain honorary privileges reserved normally to Roman princes and dukes. In addition there were the party around the sedia gestatoria, the state chair, carried by six sediarii in crimson damask uniforms. This included four Swiss Guards, two lay privy chamberlains carrying flabella, gigantic ostrich feather fans; the Commandant and officers of the Swiss Guard, and the Commandants of the Palatine Guard of Honor and the Noble Guard.

But if the Papal Chapel only really showed its corporate existence during high ceremonies in St. Peter’s, the Papal Household functioned in the Apostolic Palace in the Vatican on a permanent basis. Like the Papal Chapel, it was traditionally a mixture of lay (usually noble) and clerical personages. Its two top members were the “Palatine Cardinals” --- the Cardinal Secretary of State (then as now the second most powerful man in the Vatican) and the Cardinal Datary, head of the Apostolic Dataria, an office which vetted candidates for positions in the Papal Court. Then came the “Palatine Prelates:” the Maestro di Camera, the principal chamberlain who exercised authority over all the other chamberlains, made all arrangements for papal ceremonies, and acted as custodian of the Ring of the Fisherman – he was the first to see the Pope each day; the Auditor of His Holiness, who presided over the Curial department that appointed Bishops; and the Master of the Sacred Palace, the Pope’s theologian, usually a Dominican. There were also a number of ecclesiastical Privy Chamberlains (monsignori), who actually gave daily service to the Pope, such as the Master of the Alms and the Guardian of the Papal Vestments.

Then, in precedence, followed the three great hereditary lay officers of the Papal Household, Roman nobles all. These were the Forriere Maggiore, who was in charge of the repair and upkeep of the Papal palaces (the current holder would be the Marquis Giulio Sacchetti, Marques of Castel Romano, currently the highest ranking layman in the Papal service as “Delegate of the State of the City of the Vatican”); the Cavallerizzo Maggiore, or “Master of the Horse,” who was at first in charge of the Papal stables and horses (this office would today be held by the Marquis Dr. Gregorio Serlupi Crescenzi, a noted Roman Psychologist); and the Sopraintendente Generale della Poste, who presided over the Papal Post Office (the current office holder would be Prince Don Filippo Massimo, Prince and Lord of Arsoli, Duke of Anticoli Corrado).

There were also a number of degrees of lay privy chamberlains, both honorary and regular, who came from either noble families or were named in reward for services to the Church. These wore knee breeches, capes, and ruffed collars, sword at side --- very much resembling the Renaissance portraits of gentlemen so prized by collectors. Also on hand were the Bussolanti, lay ushers in damask uniforms much like those of the bearers of the Sedia Gestatoria. These costumed folk lent great color to Papal ceremonies of all kinds.

The most impressive portion of the Papal court was, to be sure, the uniformed soldiers of the Pontifical Army. After 1870, units like the Zouaves, Dragoons, and Artillery were dispersed; but four remained. Most illustrious of these were the Noble Guard, made up of (as the name would suggest), noblemen. The Captain Commander of the Noble Guard was always a Roman Prince with the rank of Lieutenant General (among the last holders were the Princes Altieri, Aldobrandini, Barberini, Rospigliosi). Among their number was also the Hereditary Standard Bearer of the Holy Roman Church, who bore the rank of Lieutenant-General (the holder today would be the Marquis Patrizio Patrizi Naro Montoro, another Marquis of the Canopy). Before 1929, their numbers were recruited solely from among the nobility of the pre-1870 Papal States; but after the Lateran Treaty, any Italian noble was eligible. In 1930, Alfonso XIII, King of Spain, had approached Pius XI with the idea of admitting any Catholic nobleman, but the Pope refused. At any rate, featured at all major ceremonies, the Noble Guard were an impressive sight, with their plumed cuirassier helmets and red tunics. One of their number always accompanied the Papal emissary bearing the red hat to be delivered to overseas Cardinals.

The Swiss Guard, with their Renaissance uniforms designed by Michelangelo, were and are the most famous of the Papal units. Founded in 1505, they guarded (and guard) the entrances to the Vatican and the Papal Apartments. Easily one of the most photographed units in the world, for many people they epitomize the Vatican.

A much less aristocratic unit were the Palatine Guards of Honor, founded in 1850 as the Roman militia in the Papal service. With their blue uniforms and plumed blue busbies, they were quite noticeable during Papal ceremonies. The Palatine Guard was open to all Catholic natives of Rome, although during World War II its ranks were thrown open by Pius XII to Jews, in order to provide refuge for them from the Holocaust. Between 1942 and December 1943, the numbers of the Guard ballooned from 300 members to 4,000 --- all of them carrying Vatican City passports, guarantees of safety. Of these 4,000 new recruits, at least 400 were Jews, 240 of whom were hidden in the Vatican itself.

Lastly came the Pontifical Gendarmerie, a unit founded in 1816 as the police of the Papal States, and after 1870 confined to guarding the Apostolic Palace and the basilica of St. Peter. In bearskin hats, they resembled nothing so much as French Grenadiers of the army of Napoleon.

With such an array of glittering courtiers, ceremonies at the Vatican were impressive, indeed, even if after 1870 they were primarily confined to immediate environs of St. Peter’s. There were, of course, the major holidays of the Church year, such as Christmas and Easter; the reception of heads of state and other important guests; the canonization of saints and the creation of cardinals; accreditation of foreign envoys; the annual allocutions to the diplomatic corps and to the Roman nobility; and many other ceremonies besides. But none were so impressive as the protocol surrounding the death and funeral of an old Pope, and the election and coronation of a new one.

However, in the Catholic Church as elsewhere during the 1960s, there was a great outcry for simplification. On the one hand, this showed itself in strictly religious rites through the alteration in the liturgies of the Church after Vatican II. But at the same time, throughout Western Society --- especially in those parts of it that retained monarchies --- there was a great demand on the part of the chattering classes of academia, media, and politicians for an “updating” or “democratization” of royal ritual. At court after court, bowing or curtseying to the Sovereign or his representative was abandoned, ancient court offices were abolished, uniforms and ceremonies altered or done away with, and the nobility dispensed with --- all in the name of “modernity” or “equality.” Nor has this process quite finished, as might be observed in Tony Blair’s expulsion of hereditary peers from the House of Lords, abolition of the millennium-old post of Lord Chancellor, and outlawing of fox hunting (a notoriously aristocratic sport). Of course, none of those chatterers responsible for such changes have altered their own lavish lifestyles, nor (in the case of the political wing of the movement) become more noticeably efficient or attentive to the needs of the people.

In any case, this wave of change did not stop at the walls of the Vatican; far from it. Pius XII initiated things by ordering Bishops not to use whatever noble titles they might have possessed, either personally or (as was the case for a number of European cities) that were attached to their dioceses; by forbidding the use of coronets and the like in ecclesiastical heraldry; and by ending the annual allocution to the Roman nobility. John XXIII continued the process by doing away with the traditional kissing of the papal slipper, and purging the Roman Pontifical (the books of episcopal ceremonies) of such rites as the coronation of Kings and the dubbing of Knights.

But here too, it fell to Paul VI to make the most radical changes. From 1968 to 1970, he cut through the Papal court, abolishing age-old (and primarily lay) titles, disbanding the Noble and Palatine Guards, and taking away the uniforms of the Gendarmes. In the latter year, he ended the privileges of the Black Nobility, for the most part stripping them of Vatican citizenship. In keeping with these moves, he toned down Vatican pageantry considerably, and removed a great deal of the lay element. The chamberlains he renamed “Gentlemen of His Holiness,” taking them out of their Renaissance costumes and putting them into white tie and tails. Above all, Paul VI wanted to minimize the Temporal Rulership aspect of Papal ceremonial. The seeker after gorgeous Pontifical uniforms will only find them today in the Museum of the Pontifical Household at the Lateran Palace. The Sedia Gestatoria continued to be used by Paul VI; although John Paul I (who had shown his opposition to this sort of pageantry by abolishing his State entrance into Venice by gondola, when made Patriarch of that city) did not like to use it, he relented when it was pointed out to him that people could not see him otherwise. John Paul II replaced it entirely with his Popemobile.

Nevertheless, what remains is still quite impressive. We will now examine the ceremonies surrounding Papal death and election, as they were, and as they have become in the past four decades.

A Pope is Dead

When the Pope is dying, he is given, like any other Catholic, the Last Rites. These have of course been somewhat simplified from the rites of Extreme Unction to what is now called the Sacrament of the Sick. In the case of a dying Pope, the Cardinal Grand Penitentiary, the official heading the highest court of the Church) who also supervised the “Minor Penitentiaries,” the specially chosen priests who hear confessions in the four major basilicas) administered this rite. The Penitentiaries in turn would also watch over the deathbed of the Pope; when the Pontiff breathed his last, they would wash his body and clothe him in his vestments.

At the moment of death, the Church enters a period called the Sede Vacante --- the Vacant Seat. The Cardinal Camerlengo, head of the Apostolic Camera (the body of the Curia that administers the temporal goods and properties of the Holy See) becomes the top man of the Church. Summoned to the dead Pope’s chamber, he must certify that the Pontiff has passed on. Up until the end of the 19th century he did this by lifting the linen covering from the Pope’s face, after which everyone in the room knelt in prayer. The Camerlengo then called out the Pope’s lay name. Receiving no answer, he would touch the forehead of the Papal corpse with a small silver hammer three times, successively calling out the name. The Camerlengo would then turn to those present and say solemnly, “The Pope is truly dead.” Attending notaries, the master of Papal ceremonies, and attending physician would sign the death certificate, and hand it to the Camerlengo, who signed it himself, and then affixed his seal to it. Although the silver hammer was abandoned at the death of Leo XIII in 1903, the remainder of the ceremony remained the same.

The Camerlengo took charge of the Fisherman’s ring, the Papal ring with the seal bearing the name of the dead Pontiff and the image of St. Peter in the Boat, and his second seal, pushed into wax on important documents. This was done to prevent creation of any fraudulent documents. He them passed through the antechambers of the Papal Apartments, and ordered the Swiss Guards to keep all others out of them. The Camerlengo then proceeded to his office, accompanied by two if the Swiss in token of his powers. In the days of Papal temporal rule, when the Camerlengo arrived, the Cardinal Vicar (the official who actually administers the diocese of which the Pope is head) ordered the great bell on the Capitoline Hill to sound, after which all the others in the City would follow. Today the municipal government gives this command. Prior to 1870 also, a town crier with a drum would go to each prison in Rome and announce an amnesty for the lesser criminals --- this custom has not been revived.

The Pope was then embalmed or not, in accordance with his will. That finished, the body was taken to the Sistine Chapel, dressed in a white cassock and mozzetta, and wearing a red tight fitting cap edged with white fur, called a camauro. There he lay on a bier, illuminated with white candles and watched over by a detachment of Noble Guards in full-dress uniform with black mourning bands on their arms.

In the meantime, the Camerlengo destroyed the former Pope’s seals; the next day the first assembly of Cardinals would be presented with the pieces, and each Cardinal inspect them individually. That evening, the Pope’s body would be carried into St. Peter’s Basilica, to rest in the Chapel of the Holy Sacrament. By this time, he had been changed into pontifical vestments --- a red and gold chasuble and a cape consisting of two oval pieces of white silk striped with red and gold called a fanon, a vestment reserved to the Pope --- with a gold miter on his head. Being buried in a gold miter was a privilege reserved to the Pope; all other bishops being interred with white ones.

Here Noble Guards again protected the Pope’s corpse, lying on a bier in the chapel. Twenty candles were lit in candelabras, six before the bier, six on the steps of the altar, and four on each side of the catafalque. This sort of lying in state, complete with candles and guards is called a chapelle ardente, and is reserved to Monarchs. Most recent examples of it were seen at the obsequies of Queen Elizabeth the Queen Mother and Prince Rainier III of Monaco. As with those worthies, the Pope’s subjects (in this case, the people of Rome) were allowed to pass through in their thousands to say farewell.

On the third day after the Papal demise, the cardinals who had been created by the late Pontiff carried his bier to the apse of St. Peter’s basilica. The basilica was filled with mourners --- the Papal Household, the deceased Pope’s family, heads of state, the diplomatic corps, visiting ecclesiastics, the Roman Nobility, and the like. The funeral itself was like that of any Catholic. At the end of the Requiem, the body received absolution, the first of nine the Pope would eventually receive (Bishops only got five).

After the body was absolved, it would be placed with gold, silver, and copper medals bearing the Pope’s likeness (in the same number as the length of years he had reigned) into the first of three coffins, this one made of cypress, to symbolize that Pope was a man like all others. The Ponitiff’s face and hands were covered with veils made of purple silk, and the whole covered with a red ermine blanket. The first coffin was the seal and tied with red ribbons.

This coffin was in turn laid into one of lead, into which were also placed important documents, and (by the Camerlengo) the broken Papal seals. The lead coffin was then put into a third made of elm, the most precious wood in the neighborhood of Rome; this was to signify the exalted office of the dead man.

All of this completed, the triple coffin was lowered into the crypt of St. Peter’s through the “confession of St. Peter.” There it would wait until conveyed to wherever the Pope’s will had decreed it should rest permanently.

This was the start of the nine prescribed days of mourning, the first of a series of Requiem Masses (called Novemdiales), this one having been offered by the Dean of the College of Cardinals, the other eight were to be said by various of his brother cardinals. But rather than wearing red, during this period the cardinals wore purple cassocks in token of mourning.

After the Pope’s coffins were ensconced in the crypt, the sanctuary party adjourned to the Vatican Palace, the Cardinal Vicar alone remaining behind to chant the office for the Dead. At this point, all the Vatican officials whose offices were only occupied during the lifetime of the Pope lost their jobs. The Camerlengo now needed to concentrate on the other half of his duties during the Sede Vacante --- preparing for the Conclave.

Of course, the changes in the Papal Court and ceremonial that Paul VI wrought had an affect on Pontifical funerals. For one thing, with the Noble and Palatine Guards abolished, the Swiss Guard had to assume all details requiring uniformed troops. So it is now to the Swiss that the honor of guarding the Pope’s body falls --- an honor that of course started with Paul VI’s death.

He died on the evening of August 6, 1978, at Castle Gandolfo, the Papal Summer residence outside Rome. As per his request (and in keeping with his spurning of the usual Papal paraphernalia) his body was not dressed in the fanon, although he was given both red-and gold chasuble and the gold miter (both privileges of Popes). On his chest was placed the rather ugly pectoral cross he liked. Around his neck was the pallium of his office. The Swiss Guard attended his corpse as he lay in state at the Hall of the Swiss Guard in the Papal Villa; all that night the members of his household prayed for him. He had been placed in a simple cypress coffin.

In the morning, a hearse brought the remains of Paul VI back to Rome, at the head of a cortege of thirty cars guarded by seven motorcycle police. On the way to St. Peter’s, the procession stopped at St. John Lateran. While the body remained in the hearse, the Cardinal Vicar of Rome prayed the Office for the Dead by its side, in sight of Paul’s cathedral as Bishop of Rome. After a blessing of Holy Water, the cortege continued on to St. Peter’s. The hearse drove up to the Basilica, the Italian troops and the Swiss Guard saluted, and Paul was taken by forty Cardinals into St. Peter’s.

After the standard ritual for reception of a body, the dead Pontiff was placed on view in the Confession of St. Peter, rather than the Chapel of the Holy Sacrament, as had been customary. In place of the Chapelle Ardente, with its twenty-four candles, Paul had opted for only a single Paschal Candle, although he would be attended by the Swiss Guard in place of the Noble one he had abolished. Thus began the Novemdiales of Paul VI.

The late Pontiff had also directed that his funeral should take place in St. Peter’s Square, rather than the Basilica, so that as many might attend as wished to. Some 60,000,000 watched on television. As has always been the custom, Paul’s obsequies differed little, other than in a few points, from those of ordinary Catholics. But he had changed those rites as well; instead of the black vestments and the mournful Dies Irae of a solemn Requiem, the Pope was given the white trappings of a “Mass of Christian Burial.” This concluded, he was lowered into an earthen-floored vault beneath the floor of the crypt of St. Peter’s, in the three-coffined arrangement (a tradition he maintained).

Except for the sudden and dramatic death which led to so many questions, the ritual side of John Paul I’s demise was much like that of Paul VI. But with John Paul II, further changes were made. For starters, he gave up, in the vestments placed on his corpse, his Papal prerogatives: his red chasuble would have gold, and his miter would be white, as with all other bishops. But his rooms were sealed up and his ring defaced in accordance with custom. He too wished to have his funeral in St. Peter’s Square.

After four days of lying in state in St. Peter’s, on April 8, 2005, the Cardinal Camerlengo, Joseph Cardinal Ratzinger, and a number of other high clerical officials of the Papal Court, gathered by the cypress coffin in the traditional manner. Archbishop Piero Marini, the Papal Master of ceremonies, placed a white veil over John Paul’s face. The coffin was then closed, and accompanied by Latin psalms.

The concelebrating Cardinals were wearing red vestments rather than white, as they carried the coffins bearing the fallen Pope outside the Basilica to the place in the square reserved for him. Five million pilgrims had come to Rome, and 2.5. billion were watching on television. The Mass itself was --- apart from being primarily in Latin (except the readings and Prayers of the Faithful), accompanied by Gregorian Chant, and offered in a great spirit of reverence --- very like any Catholic’s funeral Mass. But there were some distinguishing traits and interesting changes.

After the end of the Mass, on behalf of the Church of Rome, the Cardinal Vicar recited the Litany of the Saints and a prayer for the dead Pontiff. But then, the Eastern Patriarchs chanted the Byzantine Office for the dead, in an unprecedented demonstration of unity. The Cardinal Dean the sprinkled the coffin with holy water, and, as is usual, the In Paradisum was chanted. The Cardinal Camerlengo said the prayers as the coffin was brought back into St. Peter’s, and down in the crypt near the grave of the first Pope. The cypress coffin was placed into the other two, and all sealed, while the party of clerics sang the Salve Regina. Then all were seal up in the sepulcher. John Paul II had joined his predecessors.

A Pope is Elected

It is and was during the Sede Vacante that the College of Cardinals truly enters into their own. Most of us know them during Papal reigns simply as the heads of larger dioceses, such as Paris, New York, or Los Angeles. But the dignity of such prelates as Cardinals is actually separate from their role as local bishops. For, in origin, the Cardinals were purely the electors of the Bishop of Rome. Roger Cardinal Mahony, for example, although Archbishop of Los Angeles, is a Papal elector purely by virtue of being Cardinal-Priest of the church of the Four Crowned Martyrs (Quattro Coronati) in Rome. According to diplomatic protocol, a Cardinal ranks as an equal with the princes of royal houses (the phrase “Prince of the Church” is not merely symbolic). He might, under such law, properly be addressed as My Lord Cardinal, or even Most Eminent Prince --- although in recent times, driven as we are by purest equality, these titles are rarely if ever used, the less regal sounding “His Eminence” generally being used. The red color of their vestments symbolizes their right to die for the Faith.

There are inequalities even among the College of Cardinals, which are divided into three groups: Bishops, Priests, and Deacons. Cardinal-Bishops are usually about seven in number, and are usually high curial officials who occupy one of the nearby (suburbicarian) dioceses clustering around Rome. Cardinal-Priests, usually holders of various archdioceses or dioceses, occupy one of the titles (tituli) --- these were originally about 70 of the oldest parishes in the city, but their number has expanded greatly since 1958, in keeping with the explosion in the College’s size since then. Cardinal Deacons are generally titular archbishops or bishops, being either auxiliary bishops or else curia functionaries.

Their numbers have fluctuated wildly through the ages; by the 13th century, the number had fallen to seven. In reaction, their numbers grew until at last, in 1587, Sixtus V limited the cardinalate to 70 members (six Cardinal Bishops, 50 Cardinal Priests, and 14 Cardinal Deacons), in emulation of the same number of governing elders among the Jews, and the number of the first disciples. Since John XXIII, however, successive Popes appointed as many as they chose: today there are 182. But in the fateful year of 1970, Paul VI decreed that cardinals over the age of eighty could not vote, and increased the limit on the number of cardinal electors to 120. John Paul II altered the rule so that cardinals who were under eighty on the day the Pope died but would turn eighty before the conclave started might still be electors. Today, 116 are under eighty years of age, and thus eligible to participate in an election. If, through some terrible mishap, all of the Cardinals died, the prerogative of electing the Pope would fall upon the canons of the Basilica of St. John Lateran, which is actually the Pope’s cathedral as bishop of Rome. Oddly enough, this would give the President of France a vote, since he is, in succession to the Kings of his country, a canon of that basilica. (The custom of making monarchs canons of Roman basilicas is not uncommon; the King of Spain holds that office at St. Mary Major, the Holy Roman Emperor was a canon of both the Lateran and St. Peter’s, and, prior to the Reformation, the King of England held that position at St. Paul without the Walls, in return for which the abbot of that place was the prelate of the Order of the Garter).

Although the Cardinal Camerlengo becomes the highest-ranking cleric in the Church at the death of the Pope, power passes to the College as a body, although they are severely limited in what they can do. The Dean of the College of Cardinals convokes the General Congregation of Cardinals, which must be attended by all their eminences, save those who are over eighty (who nevertheless may attend if they so please). From their number is recruited the Particular Congregation, which deals with those few day-to-day matters concerning the Church that are in their care of the Cardinals during the Sede Vacante. It includes the Cardinal Camerlengo and three Cardinal Assistants --- one each Cardinal Bishop, Cardinal Priest and Cardinal Deacon --- chosen by lot from the whole of the College every three days. The Particular Congregation are responsible, among other things, for maintaining the forthcoming conclave’s secrecy.

One reality which the alterations under Paul VI and his successors did not change is that the Congregations decide the date and time when the conclave. The conclave shall begin. Until 1922, ten days were the prescribed interval between the death of the Pope and the start of the Conclave to elect his successor. But those rues dated from before the spread of the Cardinalate to dioceses outside Europe. The result was that in 1914, Cardinal Begin of Quebec, Cardinal Gibbons of Baltimore, and Cardinal O’Connell of Boston did not get to Rome in time for the election of Benedict XV. In 1922 the last named prelate arrived the same day that the new Pope, Pius XI, was announced --- these two frenzied (and unsuccessful) overseas voyages, plus his twice annually steamship trip from Boston to his palatial winter home in the Bahamas and back led to O’Connell’s nickname of “Gang-plank Bill.” Instructed by the last missed opportunity for American participation, Pius XI decreed that the interval between death and election should be fifteen to eighteen days. Ironically, with modern air travel, the original time frame probably could be managed.

As shown in the body of this book, methods of electing the Pope have altered gradually over two millennia, with successive Pontiffs altering regulations in response to the world around them; thus in earliest times, the people and clergy of Rome together chose the Pope. In time, this became subject to the approval of the Emperor, successively Roman, Byzantine, and Holy Roman. In time this was sloughed off, as was lay participation in the process --- a development made necessary by the unworthy men put on the throne of St. Peter either or both through the Roman mob and nobility. Thus, select members of the Roman clergy --- who eventually became the College of Cardinals --- became the sole electors. A simple majority of these were required for an election until 1179; in that year Lateran III increased the required majority to two-thirds. Moreover, Cardinals were not allowed to vote for themselves. To ensure this an elaborate procedure grew up, which also maintained secrecy. But in 1945 Pius XII allowed Cardinals to vote fro themselves, while increasing the requisite majority to two-thirds plus one. Fifty-one years later, John Paul II restored the two-thirds majority requirement, but continued to allow cardinals to vote for themselves. He also abolished the two other methods of selecting a Pope, should a conclave be hopelessly deadlock: acclamation and compromise.

Via acclamation, the cardinals unanimously declared the new Pope quasi afflati Spiritu Sancto (as if inspired by the Holy Spirit). Compromise permitted a deadlocked College of Cardinals to select a committee of cardinals to conduct an election. The last election by compromise was that of John XXII (1316), and the last election by acclamation was that of Gregory XV (1621).

After the events leading to the election of Bl. Pope Gregory X in 1271 (see p. 270), that Pontiff, as part of his package of reforms, decided to eliminate any possible repetition of the scandalous goings on which preceded his election by making the conclave far less pleasant for the participants than had been the case. Cardinals were to be secluded in a closed area without separate rooms --- this experiment in communal living would, he thought, help speed up the process. Moreover, each cardinal would be allowed only one servant unless ill. Food would be supplied through a window. If a Pope was not elected after three days, the cardinals were to receive only one dish a day; after five days, they were to receive just bread and water.

It was only in the 14th century that Rome was established as the permanent locale for the conclave; prior to that time the cardinals met wherever the Pope had died --- which, in the days when the pontiffs maintained many residences outside the city, or even, as during the Avignon interlude, outside Italy, was frequently outside Rome. But the end of the Great Schism saw the desire of the Popes never to leave their city again made concrete by insistence that the election would never again take place anywhere else. The one exception to this rule was in 1800, when Rome was occupied by enemy troops. That conclave was held in Venice under Austrian protection. After the Holy See regained Rome in 1815, subsequent conclaves were held in the Pauline Chapel, at the main residence of the Popes, the Quirinal Palace, until the election of Bl. Pius IX in 1846. After the Italian conquest in 1870, that palace became the residence of the Kings (and later presidents) of Italy, while the conclaves were held in the Sistine Chapel of the Vatican Palace, where they have been held ever since.

Successive Popes have often altered details of the process; Pius XII’s Vacantis Apostolicae Sedis of 1945 governed the conclave of 1958, and Bl. John XXIII’s Summi Pontificis Electio of 1962 that of the following year. But in essence, despite changes in venue, the ceremonies had remained more or less the same since the 15th century until Paul VI’s bull Romano Pontifici Eligendo of 1975.

After the last of the Novemdiale had been celebrated, the last of the preparations for the conclave finished, and the exact date of the Conclave was set, the 70 Cardinals made preparation to be cut off from the outside world for some time. On the actual day the Conclave was set to begin, the Cardinals arrived at St. Peter’s Basilica with their “Conclavists” --- the assistants each prelate was allowed. As a rule there were two of these per Cardinal, one priest and one layman. Neither could be related to his patron, nor could the priest be a member of the same religious order as the Cardinal, if His Eminence belonged to one; nor yet could he be any sort of prelate. In rare cases, a third conclavist --- such as a male nurse --- could be permitted if the Cardinal’s special circumstances required one. All the Cardinals had already sworn to the Camerlengo to follow the rules of the Conclave and to obey the requirement of secrecy. All of the precautions we will observe were born of centuries of trying to avoid outside interference from whatever quarter on the election.

The Dean of the Sacred College then offered the Mass of the Holy Ghost, clad in red vestments. When the liturgy concluded and the dean returned from the sacristy, an exhortation to the electors would be delivered in Latin by whichever cleric in the Vatican was most skilled in that language. In his speech, the prelate would tell the Cardinals that they must put aside their personal preferences, and concentrate on the Will of God and the needs of the Church alone in selecting a candidate. Moreover, he would warn them to act as speedily as possible.

This oration concluded, a procession formed up to bring the participants from St. Peter’s to the Sistine Chapel. At the head of the line were the Conclavists and the choir, followed by the Papal Cross. Then cane the Cardinals themselves, each accompanied by a Noble Guard, in toke of the fact that each of the electors was a potential Pope, and so merited protection by one of the Pontiff’s personal bodyguards. With them came three to six masters of ceremonies and the Secretary of the Sacred College, now magically transformed into the Secretary of the Conclave. Then came the Governor of the Conclave, a high-ranking prelate responsible for discipline inside the gathering once it was sealed off from the outside world, and the Marshal of the Conclave (this was another hereditary post, held by the Princes Chigi-Albani), who would ensure that the Conclave was undisturbed. Following them were the Confessor of the Conclave (always a Capuchin friar), the Architect of the Conclave (who had built various temporary structures in the Sistine Chapel), and various physicians, pharmacists, and workmen.

Once arrived at the Chapel, the Dean of the College recited a prayer, read aloud to the Cardinals the rules governing the Conclave, listened as they swore an oath to maintain them, and then exhorted their eminences to obey them. Then the Governor and the Marshal entered; each swore the oath separately, followed by the conclavists and others who would be sharing the Cardinals’ isolation.

The Sistine Chapel and the immediate area of the Vatican palace surrounding it had already been set apart from the outside world by the Architect of the Conclave: windows and doors were all securely sealed off. A kitchen had already been installed, and partitions erected to provide small rooms for the Cardinals and the others. One door was left open to the Conclave area. Now, while the Cardinals and Conclavists went into the Sistine Chapel and each of the latter identified to the assembly by the former, the Prefect of the Masters of Ceremonies and the Architect of the Conclave went from room to room, checking for unauthorized people, messages, and items in closets, doors, and anything else. From time to time, one or the other would shout exeunt omnes --- “everybody out!” This was of course addressed to those not part of the Conclave. After the search was finished, they returned to the one remaining entrance, and waited. Then the Noble Guards followed them out.

Now it was time for the closing of the Conclave. The Marshal stood outside, and the Governor inside the remaining entrance; together they closed the door, and then the Marshal turned the key from the exterior. Moments later, the Governor did the same inside. At that moment, the standard of the Chigi-Albani family was raised over the Vatican Palace. From that moment on, until the election of the Pope, the Marshal was supreme in the Vatican. He and the troops at his command kept the Conclave safe from anyone attempting to enter, or to leave, and were vowed to defend it to the death.

Meanwhile, inside, the rooms were Spartan; although an improvement from the days when the Cardinals were forced to room together, the whole point of the somewhat lackluster accommodations was to force the electors to do their job swiftly. My former confessor, the late James Francis Cardinal McIntyre, retired Archbishop of Los Angeles who participated in the conclaves of 1958 and 1963, remarked to me once how surprised he was when, during one or the other conclave, one of the Third World Cardinals observed that his living quarters there were so much better than what he had at home.
It was not intended, in any case, that the Cardinals should spend much time in their rooms. The election itself was conducted in the Sistine Chapel, the altar of which was covered with a tapestry upon which was a picture of the Holy Ghost descending upon the Apostles. Above it hung a purple canopy edged with gold, and along the walls were the thrones of the Cardinal Electors. Above each of these was another canopy of purple, to show that all of the throne-holders were potential Popes. Up to and including the Conclave of 1903, each Pontificate was assigned a color, and the canopy of a Cardinal bore the shade of the Pope who had created him. But St. Pius X, on the basis that longevity in the College should not be any sort of factor in a Conclave, abolished the practice. In front of each throne was a desk bearing the name of its respective Cardinal in Latin, a pen and ink set, and the like.

At the center of the chapel were four larger tables, covered with purple cloth, where the votes were to be counted. Before the altar was a still larger one, upon which were a paten and a chalice. When a Cardinal would cast a ballot, he would first place it on the paten and then in the chalice, which served as a sort of ballot box. Near this table was the famous stove, in which the ballots were burned after each vote --- with straw if the voting did not give the world a Pope, in order to, via the resulting black smoke, warn the faithful that no Pontiff was yet elected. When a candidate was elected, the straw would be withheld and the white smoke warned the public that a new Pope had been named.

The first day of the Concave saw the Cardinals and Conclavists attend Mass together in the Sistine Chapel, after which the Conclavists left the Cardinals to their work. The Master of Ceremonies and the Secretary of the Conclave distributed ballots to Their Eminences as they sat at their thrones. Each of the ballots was a three-by-three inch slip of paper, divided in two. On the upper part in Latin were the words “I choose as Sovereign Pontiff_____.” On the lower was written, “His Eminence Cardinal_____.” The distribution finished, the Master of Ceremonies left the Chapel, since the actual deliberations may be witnessed only members of the Sacred College. The lowest ranking Cardinal Deacon closed the door behind him, and the voting began; usually it lasted about a half hour.

In order of seniority, each of the Cardinals rose and carried his filled-out ballot to the altar, clutching it between his index and forefinger. He then placed the paper momentarily on the paten, then dropping it into the chalice, turned to his brethren, and swore in Latin: “I take to witness Christ Our Lord Who is Judge to me that I hereby vote for him who, before God, I feel should be elected.” The Cardinal then returned to his throne to be followed by each in turn until all had voted.

Now, each Cardinal is supposed to be motivated purely by what he believes the will of the God and the needs of the Church demand in a Pope at the given moment in history in which the Conclave is taking place. While there are no official “parties” among the Electors, there are --- and probably always have been --- identifiable factions among them. The provisional nature of these groupings and the changing conditions of the world make them somewhat difficult to trace, however. From the Reformation until the French Revolution, each of the major Catholic powers --- France, Spain, and the Holy Roman Empire, for example --- would have a certain number of Cardinals loyal to them, and desirous of electing a Pope who would be friendly to the interests of their temporal sponsor, or at least preventing the accession of one who would be inimical. To be fair, of course, such Cardinals generally believed that their own most favored nation would be a better sponsor of the work of the Church in the world than the others --- and each had some reason for their view. A fourth faction developed, however, the Zelanti or “Zealots,” who felt just as strongly that the Church should depend purely on her spiritual resources, and make no concessions to any earthly power whatsoever. Since no one group commanded a majority of Cardinals, in practice this mean that a candidate representing a compromise between the Zelanti and one or more of the national groupings would be elected.

The 19th century and the rise of the Liberal, non-religious State saw the Zelanti transform in into the “Intransigents,” who were against any compromise with “modernity,” and those who felt that the Church’s mission required some accommodation with the powers that were. After World War II, this devolved into the Modernist, Liberal, Conservative, and Traditionalist factions of modern Conclaves. But, again to be fair, probably a simple majority of each Conclave has not been a member of a faction in an ideological sense. This has forced those who are to prove their case for their candidate, and favored usually the selection of a compromise candidate who pleases (or at least, does not displease) the majority. Occasionally, however, the severity of conditions in the Church has favored an “ideological” candidate. This may have been behind the outcome of the Conclave of 2005.

Beyond the existence of national factions in the College, however, the selection of a Pope has always been of interest to temporal rulers. While St. Gregory VII was the last Pontiff who felt compelled to ask the approval of his election from the Holy Roman Emperor, in later years the Catholic powers claimed the right of veto over any single candidate --- that is, that while they no longer claimed the right of approval over an elected Pope, they demand the power to disqualify any one Cardinal judged inimical to their interests. Inheriting the rights of the Holy Roman Emperor in this as so many other areas, the Austrian Emperor attempted to cast a veto over Cardinal Mastai Ferretti in the Conclave of 1846. While Mastai Ferretti was seen as too pro-Liberal (and favoring the Italian nationalists), the Cardinal-Archbishop of Vienna arrived in the Eternal City too late to cast the veto, arriving in time to hear Mastai Ferretti proclaimed Pope Bl. Pius IX. In 1903, the Cardinal-Archbishop of Cracow did successfully veto the pro-French and liberal Cardinal Rampolla, thus indirectly bringing about the lection of Pope St. Pius X. That Pontiff, however, officially abolished the very veto he owed his elevation to the papacy to.

In any case, when the ballots were all cast, the “Scrutators,” three Eminences chosen from their number by the Cardinals to count the ballots, set to work. The senior among them covered the chalice with the paten and shook it. The ballots were then counted; if there were more or less ballots then Cardinals present, the whole bunch were burned without being looked at. Presuming that all was in order, however, the first scrutator opened the first ballot, read it in silence, and passed it on to the second, who did the same, and passed it on to the third. He in turn would read the name of the candidate and mark it down on a sheet. All the other Cardinals at their thrones did the same. When all the ballots were read, the numbers accruing to each were announced. If none had two thirds plus one, a second vote would be held; two in the morning and two in the afternoon were permitted. After every second fruitless attempt, the ballots were burnt with straw in the stove, emitting the black smoke that announced to the world that the vote had not given a majority.

When, at last, the required majority was reached and announced, all the Cardinals stood up, but remained in front of their thrones. The lowest ranking Cardinal Deacon sounded a bell and opened the door of the Sistine Chapel. The Secretary of the Conclave, the Master of Ceremonies, and the Sacristan of the Vatican entered; then they proceeded, with the Dean of the Sacred College and the Camerlengo to the place where stood the elected Cardinal. This Eminence was then asked in a loud voice by the Dean, “Acciptasne Electionem?” --- Do you accept the Election? --- Surely the most tension-filled question any man could ever be asked. The chosen Cardinal had to reply in seconds, either accepting or rejecting the honor. From the moment he uttered the word “Accepto,” he was Bishop of Rome and Servant of the Servants of God. It was and is a heavy burden; like the first Pope, the newest will be taken where he would not go --- either figuratively or literally.

Immediately, each of the Cardinals pulls a string and lowers the canopy of his throne, leaving only the new Pope’s extended. No longer were they equals, but assistants to the successor of St. Peter in the governing of the Universal Church. Then the Dean asked the new Pope, “Quo modo vis vocari?” --- “What will you be called?” At that point, the Pontiff declared his new name, by which he would be known until his death.

His Holiness then knelt in prayer in front of the altar, and shortly after entered into the sacristy (called the “Room of Tears” to signify a new Pontiff’s probable emotions) with the Master of Ceremonies, the Sacristan, and the Secretary of the Conclave. Therein, the Secretary approached the Pope, offering the white zucchetto; very often the Pontiff then removed his own red one and placed it on the Secretary’s head, to show that he would appoint this prelate a Cardinal. The Pope was then vested in the white silk cassock, pectoral cross, purple silk slippers embroidered with gold crosses, red mantle trimmed with ermine, and gold embroidered white stole proper to his new office (there had been three sets of vestments placed in the room, large, small, and medium).. At the same time, the ballots were dumped in the stove, and white smoke billowed out of the Palace.

In the Piazza San Pietro, the crowds who had assembled every day in the square since the Conclave opened greeted this signal with joy. Meanwhile, the newly vested Pope proceeded back into the Sistine Chapel, and sat down on the empty throne in front of the altar. His Holiness then stood and gave his first pontifical blessing to the Cardinals. He sat down and one by one the cardinals approached and kissed his hands. This done, the Camerlengo, accompanied by the Master of Ceremonies, genuflected and put the now-seal-less ring of the fisherman on his finger. The Pope then removed it and gave it to the Master of Ceremonies who would see to putting a new seal bearing the Pontiff’s name on it.

Then each of the Cardinals came up to render homage a second time. As His Holiness sat on his throne, the red mantle covering his hands, each Cardinal came up to him. Genuflecting, the Cardinal kissed first his feet and then his hands through the mantle. Pope and Cardinal then embraced, first from the right and then from the left, until all of the Sacred College had shown their obedience.

While this ceremony was going on, the senior Cardinal Deacon appeared on the balcony of St. Peter’s Basilica, and lifted his right hand, quieting the cheering crowd. “Annuntio vobis gaudium magnum; habemus Papam!” --- I announce to you a great joy; we have a Pope!” Halting momentarily, he continued, “Eminentissimum ac Reverenidissmum ___ Dominum Cardinale ___ qui sibi nomen…imposuit..!” --- “His Eminence the Most Reverend Lord ___ Cardinal___, who chooses the following name, ___!”

As the cheers grow ever louder, the new Pontiff made his way from the Sistine Chapel to the balcony of St. Peter’s, blessing all whom he encountered. Once on the balcony, he faced the cheering faithful, and gave them the blessing Urbi et Orbi, “to the City and the World.” So it was that the Universal Church began to get acquainted with her new ruler.

Paul VI made a number of alterations in the election; since the Noble Guard were abolished, their part in the assembling of the Conclave ended. Having dispensed with the Marshal of the Conclave, the Lay Assistant at the Pontifical Throne locked the door under the new dispensation. Rather than kissing the new Pope’s hands and slipper, Paul VI decreed that the Cardinals should simply embrace the new Pontiff and kiss his ring. The thrones and canopies were done away with, and replaced with simple chairs. There would be no more Conclavists --- their place would be taken by a staff provided by the Vatican to attend to the needs of the Cardinals. But there were more radical changes. Paul intended that the voting should take place in his new Audience Hall, (called the “Nervi” after the architect who designed it), a building of truly breathtaking ugliness; there would be no colored smoke to signal the progress of the voting, and rather than making his first blessing to the City and the World from the balcony of St. Peter’s, the new Pontiff would do so from the main stage of the Nervi. The biggest break from tradition, however was to deprive all Cardinals over 80 of their voting privileges. Paul VI apparently wanted to minimize the possibility of his many changes to the Church being overturned.

But there was no proviso in Paul’s 1975 Bull laying down his new procedures, Romani Pontifici Eligendo, to prevent the Cardinals from altering these provisions once they, as a body, took over the running of the Church during the Sede Vacante. They voted to return the election to the Sistine Chapel and to use the smoke signals as before. An attempt to re-enfranchise the elderly Eminences, however, was defeated. From this altered set of regulations emerged the election of John Paul I, and, a short time later, John Paul II.

The latter Pontiff, in his turn, promulgated in 1996 another Apostolic Constitution, Universi Dominici Gregis, to govern the Conclave. While the new document retained the use of the Sistine Chapel and smoke system (and restored the Conclavists), it also kept the over-80 Cardinals out of the picture. The new bull also prohibited media such as newspapers, the radio, and television, and prescribed all sorts of electronic devices to be used in sweeping for bugs and the like. John Paul II also abolished affirmation and compromise as possible means of selecting a new Pope, and reduced the majority required to a mere two thirds (in the event that the Conclave continued to grind on for weeks, a simple majority would suffice). But above all, it ordered the erection of a new building, the Domus Sanctæ Marthæ, (at some distance from the Apostolic Palace itself) to house the Cardinals during their deliberations. The accommodations provided were far more comfortable than what had been the case, and led Roger Cardinal Mahony of Los Angeles, when asked his views on them by a television crew, to reply with obvious relish, “there’ll be no lack of chocolates and fine wines.” Because of this change in housing, all of the ceremonial around the sealing of the Conclave vanished, although the Sistine Chapel was to remain off limits to non-Cardinals and carefully guarded. Perhaps mindful of his own experiences at the Conclaves of 1978, John Paul II also laid down that the Cardinals could not alter the regulations he decreed.

Unchanged was the drama on the balcony after the election, when the new Pope met his people --- save that the red mantle the Pontiff wore was no longer trimmed in ermine.

A Pope is Crowned

The Papal coat-of-arms --- both the generic ones used as a symbol of the Holy See in the abstract, and the personal ones designed for each successive Pontiff (save as we shall see, for Benedict XVI) is topped by a unique headdress, the Tiara. Called the “Triregnum” in Latin (Italian, Triregno), it is a round, rather bulbous hat, generally made of cloth-of-silver and encrusted with jewels, and bearing three gold crowns with two lappets hanging down in the back. These three crowns have been variously interpreted. Some hold that it refers to the threefold authority of the Pope as Universal Pastor (top), as holding Universal Ecclesiastical Jurisdiction (middle), and as maintaining Temporal Power (bottom). Others see in it the three spiritual powers of ruling, teaching, and sanctifying. Still others view it as symbolic of the Church Triumphant in Heaven, the Church Suffering in Purgatory, and the Church Triumphant here on Earth. Another idea is that it shows forth the three-fold office of Christ, who is Priest, Prophet and King.

In origin, the Tiara was simply the crownless headdress of the Pope; after the assumption of temporal power by the Popes, a crown was added to it. In 1298, Boniface VIII added the second to show his spiritual authority, and one way or another the third had appeared by 1315.

The Tiara was for formal ceremonial processions to and from St. Peter's Basilica or St. John Lateran, usually when the pope was being carried in the sedia gestatoria. It was used for “solemn acts of jurisdiction” where the pope appeared “in state,” as when making an ex cathedra pronouncement (using Papal Infallibility). So too, the Pope used it when giving his Urbi et Orbi blessing from a balcony. During the period of the Papal States, he would wear it when making state pronouncements. Rather than the Tiara, the Pope wore (and wears) a miter at strictly liturgical functions.

There was and is not, however, only one actual, physical Tiara. Rulers, cities, and groups of people often made gifts of Tiaras to various Popes. Although almost all were stolen in the 1798 sack of Rome by the French Revolutionaries (Pius VII had to do with one made of papier-mâché at his accession in 1800), almost immediately replacements started coming in, starting with a gift from Napoleon in 1804. They came from Sovereigns like Franz Josef of Austria, Kaiser Wilhelm I of Germany, and Queen Isabella II of Spain; from the Catholics of Paris, and from the University of Notre Dame. All in all, between 1804 and 1963 twelve of the precious items were sent to various Popes, and almost all duly worn at one time or another, depending upon the given Pope’s taste and comfort.

The last of these, given to Paul VI by the artisans of his former archdiocese, Milan, was certainly the ugliest. He in turn gave it to the Catholics of the United States, where it may be seen on permanent display in the crypt of the Basilica of the National Shrine of the Immaculate Conception.

In most of Christian Europe, the various nations’ sovereigns wore crowns bound up with their people’s history and often that of their own ancestors. The crowns of Charlemagne possessed by the Holy Roman Empire and France, Hungary’s Holy Crown of St. Stephen, Italy’s Iron Crown, England’s Crown of St. Edward, the Honours of Scotland, the Czech Crown of St. Wenceslas, and many, many more had an enormous psychological hold on the psyches of both their wearers and their wearers’ subjects. While, as mentioned, there were a number of actual Tiaras used by Popes through history, the Tiara’s significance was even greater than that of those earthly diadems.

These crowns were first placed upon their Kings’ or Emperors’ heads in the course of a ceremony called the “Coronation.” Performed by the leading cleric in the respective realm (the Archbishop of Rheims in France, the Archbishop of Canterbury in England, and so on), it was considered a sacred ritual, an “eighth sacrament.” Accompanied by many prayers, the coronation in most countries consisted of four basic actions: the swearing of an oath to maintain the realm, the Church, and their laws; the anointing of the sovereign with holy oil by the prelate; said cleric’s placing of the crown on the head of the anointed; and homage by the chief nobles and ecclesiastics of the country followed by acclamation of the people. The last example seen in recent times was that of Queen Elizabeth II in 1953. But just as the Popes wore the greatest of Crowns, so they too must have the greatest of Coronations.

Just as the original residence of the Popes after Constantine was the Lateran Palace, so too the first coronations took place in St. John Lateran. During the “Babylonian Captivity” of the Papacy at Avignon, they took place in that city. But, with the exception of that of 1800 (which, like the attendant Conclave occurred at the Church of San Giorgio Maggiore in Venice), they have occurred in the neighborhood of St. Peter’s since the return of the Popes to Rome in 1378. >From then on, the usual place was on the balcony of St. Peter’s, up to and including the coronation of Bl. Pius IX in 1846. But the seizure of Rome by the Piedmontese in 1870 meant that much of the public life of the Papal court was curtailed. So Leo XIII, St. Pius X, and Benedict XV were all crowned in the Sistine Chapel. Pius XI’s coronation, as part of his policy of gradually ending the Holy See’s isolation, was held at the dais in front of the High Altar of St. Peter’s. Thanks to the 1929 Lateran Treaty, Pius XII, Bl. John XXIII, and Paul VI all returned to the balcony of the basilica. Pius XII’s coronation was the first filmed and broadcast live on radio.

Despite the gathering war clouds, as the first public coronation since 1846, Pius XII’s attracted a stellar crowd of crowned heads: the Prince of Piedmont, heir to the Italian throne (later Umberto II), Ferdinand I of Bulgaria and Alfonso XIII of Spain, the Duke of Norfolk (representing George VI), and Éamon de Valera. Of course, in days gone by, Papal coronations had seen most of the great ones of Christian Europe present or represented.

In the days of the Temporal Power, the sight most beloved by the Roman people was a Papal procession --- a cavalcate papale. Whether on Corpus Christi, or Christmas, or any day at which the celebration of the Pontifical Mass required the Pope to go to a Basilica at some distance from where he was living --- the Lateran, Quirinal, or Vatican Palaces --- the entire Papal Court formed a glittering cortège surrounding the Pope, and reminding the crowds whose Vicar he was. The ending of His Holiness’ rule over the Eternal City spelled an end to these spectacles, but the Lateran Treaty of 1929 allowed them to revive for the Coronation.

Whatever the case, whenever the balcony of St. Peter’s was to be used, the Sampietrini, as the often-hereditary workmen of the great basilica were and are called, began readying the place for the coronation almost as soon as the white smoke billowed from the Conclave. Much had to be done. On the right and left sides of the apse, benches covered with red cloth would be set up for cardinals and bishops. Behind them were placed seats for Heads of State, the Diplomatic Corps, and senior members of the Roman Nobility. In all, five thousand or so of the eighty thousand guests in the basilica would be seated, and the normally chairless space had to be prepared.

The route of the Papal procession through St. Peter’s had to be covered with red carpet, brocades hung on the pillars and many sections of the walls, and the hundred and sixty altars festooned with flowers and thousands of candles. Four Papal thrones had to be set up: at the end of the apse, in the Gregorian Chapel, in the portico, and on the balcony. Thousand more lights were required to illuminate the façade of the Basilica; candles, before the invention of electricity. By itself, St. Peter’s is an awe-inspiring sight; even more so at great feasts like Christmas and Easter. But never, perhaps, has it been shown off so well as at a Papal Coronation.

On the morning of the Sunday or feast day when the ceremony was to be held, there were guards everywhere: the Swiss Guard manned the entrances of St. Peter’s and the Apostolic Palace. About 20 or so yards from the portico, a temporary fence was erected, and along this, detachments of the Palatine Guards of Honor were stationed. Along the border of St. Peter’s Square stood Papal Gendarmes, and after 1929 Italian troops in full dress faced them. This show of manpower was not simply for decoration, brilliant though their uniforms were. The Square filled with thousands of onlookers, even as the unassigned places in the basilica filled up. In the afore-mentioned seats, the invited guests were already in place: Bishops in their vestments, religious in all their many habits, heads of state and roman nobility in white-tie, envoys in diplomatic dress, and military officers of many nations in their respective gala uniforms.

Meanwhile, the procession was forming up in the Vatican Palace. Prior to 1870, of course, when the Popes lived at the Quirinal, this grand parade would make its way from that centrally located building through the streets of Rome to the cheers of the crowd; crossing the Ponte St. Angelo, it arrived at last at St. Peter’s. After the Piedmontese takeover, it went merely from the Vatican to the neighboring Basilica, but it preserved both its pomp and its order of march, preserved inviolate for centuries.

At the Sala Paramenti (Vesting Hall) of the Vatican Palace, the College of Cardinals assembled to greet the new Pope. He in turn, clad in white cassock and a purple mantle trimmed with ermine, flanked by two Noble and two Swiss Guards, followed by his doctor and his valet (both in white tie), and surrounded by chamberlains in the Spanish Renaissance uniforms of their office, proceeded through the ten rooms separating the papal apartment from the Sala Clementina. There he was vested in white alb, stole, and mantle, and put on a pectoral cross and a “precious” miter --- that is, one of gold with jewels.

That accomplished, he moved on to greet the cardinals and mount the sedia gestatoria. On either side were the flabelli, and (since 1870) four prelates doing duty for the marquises of the canopy. The procession formed up, and began their slow progress to the Basilica. In keeping with standard procedure, the Pope and his immediate party would come toward the end of the line that people saw, as befitting their importance. Various papal ushers, guards, couriers, and chamberlains would flank the entire line.

What the witnesses in the Square observed first were the friars: Franciscans, Dominicans, Augustinians, Mercedarians, and Minims. These orders, the “Mendicants,” have always claimed the greatest humility, and so their representatives started the procession. Following them were the Monks --- Benedictines, Cistercians, and Camaldolese. At last came the Canons Regular. Norbertines, Canons Regular of St. Austine, of the Lateran, of the Holy Cross, and so on; all orders renowned for learning.

Then came the priests of the Diocese of Rome in black cassocks and white albs. The clergy of the collegiate churches and Basilicas of Rome, whose leaders carried crosses and ombrellones, followed these. The ombrellone is a sort of umbrella with alternating stripes of yellow and white, which is a symbol of Papal authority. It is mounted prominently in every Basilica throughout the world, from California to India, to show that they are directly under the Pope. During the Sede Vacante, it is used on documents (topping the keys of St. Peter) to show that Papal authority continues to exist between Pontificates. The last of these clerics were the Canons of the Lateran; they are permitted to carry two crosses, as signs that their Basilica holds pre-eminent status over all the churches in the world. All told, these religious number about 500 people.

Two Swiss Guards carrying halberds were then seen, followed by the Papal Court. After the guards came the auditor of the Sacred Rota, carrying the Papal Cross. Then came the various types of lay chamberlains in their ruffs. Then came a host of clerical officials of the Household: the Apostolic Preacher, the Pope’s confessor, and various chaplains and chamberlains, both working and honorary. These latter came form all over the world, being the same Monsignori so prominent on the local Catholic scene in every country. Ecclesiastical judges followed, after which, marching alone, was the Master of the Sacred Palace. In those pre-Vatican II days, he was the Pope’s theologian, and the ultimate arbiter of the Index of Forbidden Books; during the Temporal Power, he was also the head of the censorship of the Papal States.

Then a crowd of bussolanti processed, surrounding a prelate bearing the Tiara on a cushion. The two chaplains carried the pair of miters to be used by the Pope during the Mass, after whom came the Master of the Sacred Hospice, an office hereditary in the family of the Princes Ruspoli. Four other leading noble lay chamberlains marches with him. After them came prelates bearing the vestments and candles the Pope would use at Mass.

On then, came mitered abbots, as well as the chaplains serving the hospitals of Rome. Bishops, Archbishops, and the Patriarchs of the Catholic East followed, the latter in their exotic vestments. These preceded the College of Cardinals, each followed by a trainbearer. A lay contingent then made its appearance. The first of these were the Mazzieri Pontifici, the Papal Macebearers, in their open jackets, tight fitting trunks and hose, and blue berets; this uniform was unchanged since the Renaissance, and had once been worn by such a worth as the great artist Raphael. Another set of lay ushers followed them, each bearing a purple stick called the virga rubea. In the days of the temporal power, these had acted as crowd control. The Noble Guard in turn succeeded them.

The Vice-Camerlengo and the two Prince Assistants at the throne were next, followed by two Cardinals who would assist the Pope at Mass. The Master of Ceremonies and his assistant, the Commanders of the Palatine, Swiss, and Noble Guards, and then Prince Massimo, Hereditary Postmaster.
At last, the Sedia Gestatoria arrived, bearing the new Pope for his first ride, and surrounded by a cluster of dignitaries. On each side of the chair, six sediarii, in uniforms much like those of the bussolanti, clasped their poles. To the left of the throne marched the Hereditary Standard Bearer of the Roman Church, while ten other officers of the Noble Guard surrounded the throne, accompanied by the three highest-ranking lay chamberlains. At each corner of the canopy stood four clerics of high ranks, acting in place of the Marquises. A Swiss Guard carrying a sword accompanied each of these.

Behind the Papal Party came a multitude of clergy: the heads of the religious orders that had opened the procession, and others besides. After them arrived at last, the Bussolanti and couriers who closed the procession. As it wended its way through St. Peter’s Square toward the Basilica, the Pope blessed the multitudes that had turned out to acclaim him.

Once arrived at the portico of St. Peter’s, the new Pontiff was greeted by the choir, who sang the ancient hymn of the Popes, Tu est Petrus. Descending from the Sedia, the Pope sat on the throne prepared for him at the portico, while the Cardinal Archpriest of the Basilica and his fifty or so clergy one by one stepped forward, kissing first the Pontiff’s ring, genuflecting, and then kissing the cross on his right slipper. This task carried out, the Pope remounted his Sedia, and the procession moved into the Basilica in complete silence. Once inside, twelve trumpets rang out, and the band of the Palatine Guards played Silveri’s Marcia Trionfale. Then the congregation inside began to cheer and applaud, as the procession wended its way forward through the candle-bedecked cathedral.

All was silent again, however, as the Sedia was brought up to the Chapel of the Holy Sacrament to the right of the High Altar (near the Pieta of Michelangelo). The Pope removed his miter and stepped into the chapel alone, to pray for e few minutes before the Eucharist exposed in a monstrance --- in the very pot where his late predecessor had lain in state not long before. Having reminded himself of why he was there, the Pope left the chapel, and was assisted in regaining his seat aboard the Sedia. Then he was taken to the nearby chapel of St. Gregory. Part of the procession followed him in, while the rest went to the High Altar. In the chapel, the Cardinals offered homage once more, and the hour of Terce was chanted, seeking the guidance of the Holy Ghost on the new Pontiff. He was then vested, removing the falda (a golden cape reserved to the Popes) and donning first the dalmatic of a deacon, then the chasuble of a priest, and finally a stole --- the entire assemblage came to 60 pounds. Putting on his miter once more, he was ready for the Mass.

After calling out “Procedamus in Pace” --- “Let us proceed in peace,” the Pope heard the choir respond, “In Nomine Christi” --- “In Christ’s Name.” Once again on the Sedoa, was the Pope was then carried to the High Altar; but three times he put flax into a burner held by the Master of Ceremonies on the way there. Each time that dignitary intoned to the Pontiff, “Sic Transit Gloria Mundi!” --- thus reminding the Pope that all of this pomp would pass away. Having arrived at the High Altar, the Pope then dismounted, and, with all the rest of the Papal Court seated, began the Mass with the assistance of two Cardinals. It was the Pontifical High Mass normal for an Archbishop, save in a few respects. After the Pope uttered the Confiteor, which, as with almost all of the Mass (the Epistle and Gospel were recited in both Latin and Greek) was said and chanted in Latin, and then repeated by the Cardinals, the action of the liturgy was interrupted. The pallium was placed on his shoulders by a Cardinal who declared in Latin, “Receive the sacred pallium which signifies the fullness of thy pontifical office for the honor of the omnipotent God and the Most Glorious Virgin Mary, His Mother, and for the honor of the Blessed Apostles, Peter and Paul, and for the Honor of the Holy Roman Church.”

The Pope then took a thurible, and censed the altar. That completed, the members of his court, Cardinals and prelates, again made homage as he sat on the throne set up at the apse. Then followed the action common to all coronations when and wherever held --- Papal, Imperial, or Royal: the Laudes Regiae or “Acclamations.” The Cardinals separated into two groups for a sort of call and response:

“Hearken, O God, to our prayers for our master, Pope ___!”

“Savior of the World…”

“Aid him, aid him.”

“St. Michael and St. Gabriel…”

“Aid him, aid him.”

After the bilingual chanting of the Scriptures, the Offertory began. This was done as at any Mass, save that the Cardinals presenting the bread and wine sampled them first. This was a relic of the days when enemies had poisoned priests and Popes alike at this sacred moment. After the Pope consecrated the Blessed Sacrament, he elevated it not once but three times, in front of him and then to the right and the left --- a privilege then reserved to the Popes. At that moment, a haunting tune called the Largo of an 18th century Noble Guard, which was reserved by Leo XIII to the Elevation at Papal Masses.

After an elaborate Kiss of Peace, in which the Pope embraced the Cardinals, the lowest ranking of them in turn to the highest Patriarch and he to his order in turn, until the lowest of these passed it on to the highest-ranking Archbishop. The Pope received in both kinds, of course, as does any priest. But he received the Precious Blood through a golden straw, a privilege reserved to the Pontiffs.

After the cleansing of the sacred vessels and the ending of the Mass, one of the Cardinals replaced the gloves and ring on the Pope’s hand (he having taken them off in the course of the Mass). The Pontiff then once again ascended the Sedia, and the miter was placed once more on his head to the cheers of the congregation. The procession formed up once more and began its progress through the Basilica, setting out for the Holy Sacrament Chapel. Halfway there, the Cardinal Archpriest of St. Peter’s handed the Pope a gold-embroidered white purse made of silk, containing 25 “Julies” (coins minted in the reign of the Renaissance Pope Julius II, who commissioned Michelangelo to paint the Sistine Chapel. Afterward the train bearer of one of the Cardinals would return the purse to the Sacristan of the Basilica, in exchange for modern money --- the Julies would be used again for the next coronation. The meaning of this curious ritual was a reminder to the Pope that St. Peter’s was not his cathedral, and symbolized the Archpriest’s gratitude for a well-sung Mass.

This done, the Pope once again prayed briefly in front of the Eucharist, returned to the Sedia, and the procession went back out the door. Through the portico it went and up the Sala Regia leading to the balcony. There the Pope dismounted once more, and sat on the throne under the canopy that had been set up there previously. The crowds cheered until the choir sang the hymn Corona Aurea Super Caput Eius --- “A Golden Crown is Placed Upon His Head.” This may title sound triumphant, but the chant was composed for feasts of martyrs.

The singing over, the Dean of the College of Cardinals recited the Lord’s Prayer; a cleric removed the miter from the Pope’s head afterwards. The Dean then summoned the prelate carrying the Tiara. Taking it off the cushion, the Dean knelt in front of the Pope, and said:

“Accipe thiaram tribus coronis ornatam, et scias te esse Patrem Principum et Regum, Rectorem Orbis, in terra Vicarium Salvatoris Nostri Jesu Christi, cui est honor et gloria in sæcula sæculorum.” --- “Receive the tiara adorned with three crowns and know that thou art Father of Princes and Kings, Ruler of the World, Vicar of Our Savior Jesus Christ on earth, to Him be the honor and glory forever and ever.”

That formula having been recited, the Dean stood and placed the Tiara on the Pope’s head. He in turn rose, went to the edge of the balcony, and for the first time gave the crowds the three-fold blessing, “in the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost.

Except for the period of imprisonment in the Vatican (1870-1929), the Coronation was always followed a few days later by the Pope taking official possession of his cathedral of St. John Lateran. With this act, the main work of the Pontificate began.

As might be guessed from this description, the coronation was a long ceremony, taking about six hours to complete. When Paul VI was elected, he shortened it considerably, by removing many of the small gestures, some of the repeated gestures, and the like. He was however crowned with the ugly Tiara earlier mentioned. Paul laid it on the altar of St. Peter’s at the end of Vatican II, in a gesture that was seen as bespeaking humility by some, and as virtual abdication by others. Because of the changes he made in the Papal Court, Paul made it impossible, just as he had with Papal funerals, for the sort of Coronation that he and his predecessors enjoyed to be performed again (cynics noted that while calling for a greater role for laity in the Church at large, he sharply reduced their standing in the ceremonial life of the Vatican). Nevertheless, it is certain that he intended for his successors to have some sort of coronation. In 1975 Apostolic Constitution, Romano Pontifici Eligendo, Paul explicitly declared, “the new pontiff is to be crowned by the senior cardinal deacon.”

His successor, John Paul I, whatever his other qualities, was no friend of pageantry. As noted, when he became Patriarch of Venice, he refused the state entrance via the Patriarchal gondola that had been customary up to that time. Refusing to be crowned, he was installed in a simple “Papal Inauguration Mass,” held outside the Basilica, in St. Peter’s Square. He further moved it to the morning to avoid clashing with Italian soccer coverage, normally broadcast in the afternoon. John Paul I also, as we saw, refused the Sedia Gestatoria until circumstances forced him to use it. There was, supposedly, a great deal opposition to his refusal to be crowned, but Virgilio Noe, Papal Master of Ceremonies, whose liturgical innovations drew notice until his retirement from that post, supported him in his resolution, and helped him design the new ceremony. The heart of it would be the bestowal of the pallium by the Snior Cardinal Deacon, rather than the Tiara.

When John Paul I died weeks after his inauguration, Vatican-watchers wondered what his successor would do. John Paul II decided against it. In his homily at his Inauguration Mass, he declared that Paul VI had “left his Successors free to decide” the issue, although, as has been notice, Paul had been explicit about the use of the Tiara. But John Paul II went on to say that, “Pope John Paul I, whose memory is so vivid in our hearts, did not wish to have the tiara; nor does his Successor wish it today. This is not the time to return to a ceremony and an object considered, wrongly, to be a symbol of the temporal power of the Popes.”

As we have seen, John Paul II was very clear about the way he wanted future conclaves run. But by contrast, he was vague about his successors’ coronations. In Universi Dominici Gregis, his only reference to the ceremonial enthronement was: “After the solemn ceremony of the inauguration of the pontificate and within an appropriate time...” This did not, in fact, leave much for future Popes to go on. Interestingly enough, however, both John Pauls retained the Tiara in their personal coats-of-arms.

While Benedict XVI in the end decided against the Tiara for his 2005 installation, such sources as the French magazine Pointe de Vue maintained that it was only a last minute decision. Supposedly, Benedict had wanted the Tiara, but had been thwarted by the staff at the Vatican --- most notably Archbishop Piero Marini, Noe’s successor as Papal Master of ceremonies. Whether or not this is true, on the one hand, Benedict decided against the use of the Tiara in his coat of arms. On the other, Marini’s early retirement was announced shortly after the ceremony. One sign of informality was that Heads of State and other prominent layman were allowed to wear business suits rather than white tie.

Benedict XVI’s inauguration took place on April 24, 2005, and was conducted in accordance with changes that he had authorized the day after he was elected. It began with Pope and Cardinals kneeling at the tomb of St. Peter, after which the new Pontiff said, “I leave from where the Apostle arrived.” Joining them there were the Eastern Catholic Patriarchs, who had a much larger part in the ceremony than was formerly the case (as happened with John Paul II’s funeral, and which was an innovation which this writer, for one, applauds). They then processed from the Tomb to the entrance of the Basilica, joined by two deacons carrying the ring of the fisherman and the pallium.

The pallium to be used on this occasion was quite different from the standard, being at once wider and longer, and worn draped over the shoulders; it is made of wool with black silk tips, and bears five embroidered red silk crosses, rather than the six black ones other pallia display. Moreover, there are three pins in three of the crosses symbolizing the three nails driven into Christ at the Crucifixion. This is an antique style of pallium, worn by Popes prior to the wearing of the Tiara --- and perhaps reflecting the new Pope’s interest in the early Church.

As the party processed out to the Square and the waiting temporary altar, the choir sang the Laudes Regiae. Once they arrived, Benedict made the sign of the cross in Latin, which was the primary language of the liturgy. The Mass was fairly standard, but after the reading of the Gospel in Latin and Greek, the top-ranking Cardinal deacon placed the pallium on Benedict’s shoulders, after which the Dean of the College of Cardinals placed the ring on his finger.

These deeds accomplished, another innovation took place. Rather than have all the Cardinals repeat their oaths of allegiance (for they had sworn to obey Benedict after his election) an act of homage symbolic of the obedience of the whole Catholic world took place. The senior Cardinal Bishop, the senior Cardinal Priest, the senior Cardinal Deacon, the bishop of the new Pope’s former suburbicarian diocese of Velletri-Segni, the pastor of Benedict's former titular church Santa Maria Consolatrice al Tiburtino, a deacon, a religious brother, a Benedictine nun, a married couple from Korea, a young Sri Lankan woman and a young Congolese man (the latter two of whom had both recently been confirmed) all swore allegiance, on behalf of themselves and the different stations in life within the Church they represented. While all this was happening, Tu Est Petrus was sung.

Benedict gave his homily, and then he and all assembled chanted the Creed in Latin. The Prayers of the Faithful, although the responses were in Latin, were uttered in a number of vernaculars: German, French, Arabic, Chinese, and Portuguese. All the rest of the prayers of the Mass were in Latin.

When the Mass was over, Benedict greeted various groups of dignitaries that had come for his Inauguration. Although lacking the pomp of his pre-1963 predecessors, it was a moving and impressive rite. In another break with tradition, the first Basilica he visited after his installation was St. Paul Outside the Walls, the following day. But on May 7 Benedict did go to St. John Lateran, where he celebrated an “enthronement Mass.” That evening he went to the last of the four Basilicas in Rome, St. Mary Major, to venerate the image of Mary as Salus Populi Romani. The Pontificate of Benedict XVI was off to its start.

Will Popes Be Crowned Again?

After all of this, the inevitable question is --- will there ever be a return to the full-blown coronations of yore? An easy answer is, not unless a future Pontiff restores the Papal Court, an unlikely event in the foreseeable future.

But, given current clerical trends, in that younger priests tend to be more enamored of orthodoxy and tradition than their immediate predecessors, on average, it is probable that the Tiara and rather more pomp will one day make the appearance. When the generation, many of whose members still venerate the supposedly egalitarian 1960s pass on to retirement or the grave, their successors will have to guide the Church. A generation of priests who are rediscovering the riches of the Church’s liturgy as far as the Mass and liturgical chant go on a parish level, may be trusted, when Bishops and Cardinals, to do something toward restoring Papal ceremonial as well. Certainly a number of the changes visible in John Paul II’s funeral and Benedict XVI’s inauguration would be good to retain --- particularly in terms of the expanded use of the Eastern contribution. But in all likelihood, the Tiara too will return, if not the Macebearers and the Master of the Sacred Hospice. As James-Charles Noonan, Jr. opines in The Church Visible:

With the immediate precedence of two [now three! --- CAC] papal installations, it is both unlikely and inappropriate for a total return of the past ceremony of coronation. Once again, to the officiali of the Church now falls the task of preparing a proper, theological combined ceremony for institution of a new pontificate. In time, it is possible that such a ceremony will appear.

In the sunshine of St. Peter’s Square, future pontificates could open as Paul VI has envisioned. The emphasis should fall to the sacred, the celebration of Mass central to this liturgy. The act of crowning, symbolic of a pope’s authority as Christ’s Vicar on Earth and his unique position as head of the Universal Church, incorporated within the Eucharistic celebration, most beautifully combines the sacred and the symbolic as required by the law of the Church. (p.43).

To be sure, there is one time when the Tiara is still used: a giant one is put on the head of the statue of St. Peter in the Basilica that bears his name every June 29, the feast of Ss. Peter and Paul. Of course, it might be unwise to count out even a full coronation forever, at least as long as the uniforms of the Papal Court remain in the Lateran Palace. After all, the Papacy has outlasted tribes, tyrants, several “isms,” and even nations --- it may outlive egalitarianism as well.