(3 of 6)
In past elections, caught in near deadlocks, "arrangements" sometimes had to be made—for instance a "ticket" pairing a papal candidate with a Secretary of State, the virtual Prime Minister of the Vatican. According to an informed reconstruction of the 1958 conclave, just such a gentlemen's agreement was worked out. Key Cardinals approached Angelo Roncalli, the man who became Pope John XXIII, and implied that they would vote for him in return for indirect assurances that Domenico Tardini, an experienced administrator and a Curial traditionalist, would be appointed Secretary of State. Replied Roncalli: "Eminences, one could not fail to take into consideration a man of such abilities." Soon thereafter, Roncalli was Pope and Tardini the Secretary of State.
The "instant conclave" of 1978 may be explained, at least in part, by the unusually long interim between Paul's death (Aug. 6) and the beginning of the conclave (Aug. 25). The Cardinals had plenty of time to get together in small groups and large, conferring, trading intelligence, lobbying ever so discreetly. By last Friday, when they assembled at the Altar of the Chair in St. Peter's Basilica, beneath Bernini's stained-glass window portraying the Holy Spirit as a white dove in a solid circle of gold, they had carefully weighed all the papabili (possible Popes). During a Mass celebrated in Latin, the Cardinals invoked divine guidance for the task ahead of them.
As the 111 Cardinals, in scarlet chasubles and gleaming white miters, flowed out of the transept in two slow-moving files, a four-year-old girl in the crowd was heard to ask, "Which one is the Pope?" Replied her father: "One of them is—but they haven't decided which one yet."
Six hours later, having replaced the white miters with red birettas, the Cardinals reassembled to begin making that decision. Promptly at 4:30 on Friday afternoon, Jean Cardinal Villot, Camerlengo (Chamberlain) of the vacant Holy See, gave a signal and the 70-member Sistine Chapel choir started to sing Veni Creator Spiritus (Come Holy Spirit). The Cardinals then filed into the Sistine Chapel. There, beneath Michelangelo's great fresco The Last Judgment, they seated themselves on facing rows of plain chairs at twelve long tables. There were too many Cardinals this time to accommodate them with the traditional canopied velvet thrones.
To the left of the portal through which they entered was the iron stove that was later to send out those confusing signals. Beside the stove were chemical cartridges for producing black and white smoke. After a brief prayer, a final roll call and a last-minute sweep for bugging devices, the master of ceremonies pronounced: "Extra omnes" (Everybody out), and the doors were locked.
The next morning the balloting began, and as the basilica bells were still pealing the noontime Angelus, the first puff of smoke wafted from the chapel chimney: black. Nine minutes later, more black smoke billowed forth, then seemed to turn white, then black again. False alarm. After the morning's first two ballots, Vatican Radio announced, there was no decision.