Dana Schwartz (0:00)

This is an I Heart Podcast.

Erin Menke (0:04)

I'm someone who spends a lot of time in front of a computer screen, which means that I get dry eye symptoms. I didn't realize, but people who spend extended periods in front of a computer screen tend to blink less often, which may lead to increased tear evaporation and thus symptoms of dry eyes. So if you're like me and spend all day staring at a computer screen, give your dry burning or irritated eyes a daily refresh with Refresh Digital Lubricant Eye Drops, a preservative free formula that provides fast acting, soothing relief. It's safe to use as often as needed. Find Refresh online or in the Eye Drop section at all major retailers. Welcome to Noble Blood, a production of iHeartRadio and Grim and Mild from Erin Menkey. Listener discretion advised. In the early evening on May 8, 2025, white smoke billowed from the Sistine Chapel in Rome. A new pope had been elected. Onlookers in the Vatican City and across the world waited with bated breath for over an hour, their eyes trained on the Central Loggia of St. Peter's Basilica, where the new pontiff's identity and regnal name would be announced after fewer than two days of voting. Before too long, Cardinal Dominique Memberti emerged to share with the world that the new head of the Catholic Church would be the former Cardinal Robert Prevost, now Leo xiv. As Mumberti put it in the traditional Latin we have a new Pope. This papal conclave, which turned out to be among the shortest in history, although not the shortest and not too much shorter than the previous two papal elections, inspired a great deal of public interest. Leo's predecessor, Pope Francis, was a widely beloved figure, and many people in the Catholic world and beyond were deeply invested in in whether and how the new pontiff would carry on his legacy. Perhaps spurred on by the success of the 2024 Film Conclave, many people were also intrigued by the rituals and secrecy defining the election process to select a new pope. In fact, many of the rules governing this two day conclave and every conclave for hundreds of years stem from the events of a single papal election in the past. The longest conclave in history, and in many ways the first conclave in history, started in 1268 and took nearly three years, changing the way popes are chosen forever. Dana I'm Dana Schwartz and this is Noble Blood. Clement IV was on his Deathbed. It was 1268, and he had sat on the throne of St. Peter for just under four years. He had lived a full Life. He had fought in war, studied law, married and had two daughters, all before becoming a widower and joining the Church. And he had made some important achievements during during his reign, having summoned the now St. Thomas Aquinas to serve as papal theologian. And he made strides towards diplomatic relations with the Mongols. Despite his achievements, however, much of Clement's pontificate had been defined by the conflict between the papal loyalist Guelphs and the anti papal Ghibellines. You might remember those factions from our episode on the cannibal Count of Pisa, who by this time was already beginning to betray his Ghibelline sympathies. The election in which Clement had become pope, which began in 1264 and lasted around four months, had seen significant debate among the College of Cardinals about how best to protect the papacy from Ghibelline threats. Clement, who was French in origin, in fact, had had to travel to Italy in disguise upon his election to the papacy in order to protect himself from Ghibelline violence. Clement had reigned throughout the entirety of his pontificate from Viterbo, a City some 50 miles northwest of Rome, which had been the seat of the papacy since 1257, when Pope Alexander IV had moved the papal curia there in the wake of excessive violence in Rome. That violence in Rome had continued during the papacy of Clement's immediate predecessor, Urban IV, and into Clement's papacy in 1566. Clement had overseen the completion of construction begun under Alexander IV and commissioned by the Viterban captain of the people to convert the bishop's palace in Viterbo into a bona fide papal residence, which became known as the Palazzo di Papi or the palace of the Popes. Clement was devoted to protecting the independence of the papacy. Most notably, he allied with Charles I of Anjou, the younger brother of King Louis IX of France, in his controversial conquest of Naples, offering him the throne in exchange for an acknowledgment of the pope as the feudal lord. Fortified with papal support and papal funding, Charles defeated the Holy Roman Emperor's illegitimate son and heir, Manfred, King of Sicily, whose Ghibelline ties as a member of the powerful Hohenstaufen family and refusal to acknowledge the pope's feudal power had made him an enemy of the Holy See. Manfred had usurped power from his young nephew, Conradin, the last legitimate heir of the House of Hohenstaufen. Manfred was killed by Charles forces in the Battle of Benevento in 1266, allowing Charles to take control of Naples. Conradin, who had been a teenager at that Time attempted to reclaim Naples and was captured some two years later in the Battle of Tagliacozzo. He was imprisoned and eventually publicly beheaded on Charles orders on October 29, 1268. Later, detractors would spread the rumor that Clement the pope, had supported Charles ruthless tactics, decrying his complicity in the death of the young king. But in fact, Clement had actually pleaded for Charles to have mercy on the boy. Nevertheless, by allowing Charles to take control of Naples, Clement cemented French power in Italy, which many cardinals saw as a threat to the independence of the papacy and that of the Italian city states they hailed from in and of itself. Exactly one month after Conradin's beheading, on November 29, 1268, Clement died, following what was reportedly a brief illness. Despite the achievements of his pontificate, he left behind not only the vacant throne of St Peter, but also a cardinalate divided on how best to fill it. In 1268, the Sacred College boasted 20 cardinals, 19 of whom participated in the papal election. The 20th was busy accompanying Louis IX of France on his crusade in Tunisia. In keeping with the tradition of holding the papal election in the city where the previous pope had died, the 19 cardinals made their way to Viterbo in late November. Once word had reached them of the death of Clement iv, the cardinals oversaw his burial in the Dominican convent of Santa Maria in Grotti, which stood just outside of the city, before beginning the election proceedings just two days after his death on December 1, 1268. Immediately, it became clear that this conclave would not be straightforward. Along with the cardinal's arrival had come that of Charles of Anjou, the newly crowned and bloodthirsty King of Naples. Clement had underestimated Charles ambitions and for an Italian empire. And with the pope's death, Charles had seen an opportunity to continue to consolidate power. He came to Viterbo with the intention of influencing the papal election. The issue of Charles presence and his clear intentions for the election and thereafter quickly became the central issue dividing the cardinals. It's impossible to note the numbers with any accuracy, but it seems that there was an even enough split between those who wanted to continue the pro French tradition of the previous two popes and those who wanted to divorce the papacy from Charles influence. Not to mention those who were out to elevate their own allies, countrymen and family members. The election was essentially deadlocked from the start. At first, the cardinals passed freely between the cathedral and their lodgings. They held only one vote each day, which day after day resulted in nothing but further tensions and no clear Frontrunner for pope. Although we know very little about the actual deliberations or candidates considered for the papacy, it's likely that at least a few of the cardinals present were considered papabili or potential candidates for pope. Although it was not necessary to be a cardinal to be elected pope, technically it still isn't, and other important figures in the church hierarchy were considered. Given the fact that the cardinals were free to move about as they pleased, it's also likely that they were subject to outside pressure and influence, perhaps most notably from Charles, who would remain in Viterbo throughout the election proceedings. Later sources would have it that two months in, the cardinals nearly agreed on electing Filippo Benizi the General of the Servite Order. It's likely that this story isn't true and was rather a fabrication meant to support Benizzi's later canonization. But he supposedly came to Viterbo in early 1269 to scold the cardinals for dragging their feet in the electoral process. They were apparently so impressed with Benizi that they chose him to fill the empty papal throne. But he fled the city to prevent his election, forcing the cardinals back to square one. A similar, also likely untrue story of near election would also crop up long after the fact concerning Saint Bonaventure, then known as Giovanni di Fidanza. In any case, no pope was indeed elected in those first few months, and the voting continued apace. Just under a year after the election had begun, a new wrench was thrown into the proceedings when one of the electors died. Cardinal Giordano Pironti died of unknown causes on October 1, 1269, at about 59 years old. He had updated his will a few weeks prior, so he may have been ill. And with his death, only 18 electors remained, an even number that did not bode well for breaking any future ties. It seems Cardinal Perunti's death was something of a turning point for the secular authorities in Viterbo, though it would take them several more months to take action. Around June 1270, after the anniversary of the last pope's death came and went, and the erstwhile Cardinals entered their 20th month of unsuccessful voting. Raniero Gotti, the prefect of Viterbo, and Albertus de Montebono, the Podesta ordered that the remaining electors be sequestered in the Palazzo di Papi until they could choose the pope's successor once and for all. These were drastic times, and the time had long passed for drastic measures. And before long, it would seem that even more drastic measures would be needed to get these Cardinals to finally make their choice. In the late summer of 1271, a teenage Marco Polo was just beginning the journey that would cement him as one of history's most famous travelers. He had set off from Venice with his father, Niccolo, and his uncle Maffeo, and after a short eastward journey across the Mediterranean, they had arrived in the fortified city of Acre, a Crusader stronghold on the Levantine coastline. It was there that they met Archdeacon Teobaldo Visconti of Piacenza, who had followed Edward I of England to Acre in the Ninth Crusade earlier that year. During their visit, the Polos lamented to the archdeacon that the papal throne was still vacant after over two years of fruitless voting. Marco's father and uncle had previously traveled to China, where the Emperor Kublai Khan had given them a letter for the Pope. They had been disappointed to return in 1269 to find that they still had no one to give it to. That was almost two years ago now. Here the brothers were making their way eastward again, now with Marco, and still no news from Viterbo. They had been shocked when an elector died in 1269, and even more so some six months later, when the Viterban authorities ordered that the remaining cardinals be locked away in the Palazzo DEI Papi to complete their election. Around the same time, it was suggested, supposedly, by the English Cardinal John of Toledo, that the roof of the voting chamber in the Palazzo should be removed, saying, let us uncover the room, else the Holy Ghost will never get at us. For you papal election fans following along at home, this was the first recorded reference to the now essential idea that the Holy Spirit guides the election of popes. It was also suggested that the elector's rations be reduced to just bread and water for the remainder of the election. The magistrates of Viterbo agreed, likely hoping that some scorching sun, torrential rain and stupefying hunger would guide the electors. In addition to the Holy Spirit, of course, the cardinals petitioned the magistrates that Cardinal Henry of Segucio be excused from the remainder of the election due to health concerns, which would have been exacerbated by having to spend every day hungry and exposed to the elements. He had renounced his right to vote, and his request was granted. The remaining 17 cardinals were locked into the palace, the doors and windows barred, and the roof of the voting chamber was removed. Some sources say that a makeshift roof was later added back onto the election chamber after the cardinals threatened to excommunicate the entire city. But it seems that they actually at least took their new diet in stride by the time. Marco Polo, his father and his uncle met with the archdeacon in Acre in 1271. It had been almost a year since the cardinal electors had been locked up. In that time, yet another cardinal elector had died, Istvan Banksa, the first cardinal to hail from Hungary. Cardinal Henry of Segucio had enough time to fully recuperate and return to Viterbo to resume voting. King Louis IX of France died and was succeeded, succeeded by his son Philip, who became Philip iii. In his as yet unanswered letter to the as yet unanswered Pope Kublai Khan had requested the dispatch of a hundred missionaries and some oil from the lamp of the Holy Sepulchre in Jerusalem to his court in where is now known as Beijing. The Polos told Archdeacon Visconti of those requests and of their predicament in having to wait so long to make good on them because there wasn't a Pope to ask. The archdeacon told the Polo family to bide their time by traveling to Jerusalem to fetch the oil first, and hopefully by the time they finished and returned, there would be a new Pope. They did that and returned to Acre to find that a pope still had not been chosen. Unable to justify keeping the Polos from their journey indefinitely, Visconti sent them on their way. The Polos did not make it far, however, before receiving an urgent message to return to Acre. In August 1271. Under pressure from the new king Philip III and Charles of Anjou, the authorities in Viterbo and General just about everyone else, the cardinal electors had decided to choose the pope by committee, selecting six among their numbers and agreeing to abide by whatever decision they came to. Through this method, on September 1, 1271, after 1006 days of voting, they finally came to a decision. From the roofless palace in Viterbo to the message of the cardinal's choice traveled across the Mediterranean to Acre, where the archdeacon, who was not a cardinal or even a priest, was notified that he had been chosen to fill the papal throne that had been empty for nearly three years. As someone with some ties to France, but not so many that he would be a puppet of the French crown or of Charles of Anjou. He was an unexpected candidate. That apparently was satisfying enough for all parties. It is unknown how long his name had been in contention, but the struggle of the six cardinal committee to select a pope from among the cardinal electors at first suggests he may have been a last minute consideration. The Polos made it back to Acre not long after and were received warmly by their friend, who had suddenly become the head of the Church and the Prince of the Papal States. He formally designated them envoys of the Church to Kublai Khan and sent them on their journey with two friars and a collection of gifts meant to demonstrate his hopes for friendly relations with the emperor. He offered a special blessing to Marco, by which the young traveler was reportedly greatly pleased. Teobaldo Visconti Left Acre on November 9, 1271 and reached Viterbo some months later, on February 12, 1272, where he took the regnal name Gregory X. Breaking the years long absence of the popes from Rome, he entered the city a month later in March and was ordained a priest. So six days later. Finally, on March 27, 1272, over three years after the death of the previous pope, he was consecrated a bishop and crowned in St. Peter's Basilica. Gregory's papacy lasted for only a little over four years. His reign was consequential. On July 7, 1274, his papal bull, Ubi Periculum, named for its opening line Ubi Periculum Maius Intenditur, meaning where great danger lies, codified many of the practices desperately undertaken to speed along his election as standard practice for the election of future popes. In addition to already established practices like the rule requiring a 2/3 majority for a ballot to pass, Gregory ordained that the cardinal electors should be sequestered for the duration of the election, specified the provision of increasingly spare rations the longer the proceedings endured, and placed various restrictions meant to both speed proceedings and prevent political intrigue, bribery and deal making, among other new rules rules. Although some later popes would lift these restrictions, Gregory's bull would go on to be codified into canon law in 1298. And though conclave practices have seen many changes and updates since, it remains a foundational part of the way modern papal elections are conducted. Gregory X died in the Tuscan state city of Atrezzo on January 10, 1276. In accordance with his bull, which specified that the election should begin 10 days later if all electors had arrived at his place of death by then, the conclave convened right on schedule on January 20th. It concluded with the election of Pope Innocent V just one day later. That's the story of the longest ever papal election. But keep listening after a brief sponsor break to hear about another fascinating aspect of the legacy of Gregory X.