The Family - Mario Puzo [10]
Still, consideration was given, for he had served the church in a superb manner for more than thirty-five years. As papal lawyer he had negotiated several difficult diplomatic situations to the advantage of the previous Popes, though with each victory for the Vatican he had also increased the riches and benefices of his own family. He had placed many of his relatives in positions of power, and had granted them properties that the older families of Italy felt did not rightfully belong to them. A Spanish Pope? Nonsense. The seat of the Holy See was in Rome, and so it stood to reason that the Pope must be from one of the provinces of Italy.
Now, surrounded by mystery, the conclave began to do God’s work. Isolated in individual cells within the huge cold chapel, the cardinals could have no contact with each other or with the outside world. Their decision was to be made individually through prayer and Divine Inspiration, preferably while on their knees in front of the small altars with the hanging crucifix and burning candles as the only adornments. Within those damp, darkened rooms, there was a cot for those who must sleep to renew themselves, a commode for expelling the contents of the stomach, a urinal, a vessel of sugared almonds, marzipan, sweet biscuits, cane sugar, a jug of water, and salt, for provisions. Because there was no central cooking area, food had to be prepared in their own palaces, brought to them in wooden vessels, and passed through a hatch in the door. During this time, each cardinal struggled with his own conscience to determine which man would best serve his family, his province, and the Holy Mother Church. For if one was not careful, one could save one’s worldly goods but lose one’s immortal soul.
Time could not be wasted, for after one week rations would be cut; then only bread, wine, and water would be brought to the cardinals. For once the Pope had died, chaos reigned. Without a leader, the streets of Rome were in complete disorder. Shops were being looted, castles plundered, hundreds of citizens murdered. And that wasn’t all. For as long as there was no head beneath the Holy Tiara, Rome itself was in danger of being conquered.
As the voting began, thousands of citizens gathered in the piazza in front of the chapel. They stood praying aloud, singing hymns and hoping that a new Pope would plead to the heavens to stop the hell in their streets. They waved flags, held banners, and waited for an emissary to come to the balcony to announce their salvation.
The first round lasted three days but no one cardinal received the necessary two-thirds majority. The vote was split between Cardinal Ascanio Sforza of Milan and Cardinal della Rovere of Naples. Each had eight votes. Rodrigo Borgia, with seven votes, was the second choice of most of the college. When the count was complete, and no clear winner emerged, the ballots were ceremoniously burned.
That morning, the crowd in the square watched expectantly as the smoke rose from the chimney to form what appeared to be a dark gray question mark in the clear blue sky over the Sistine Chapel. Seeing it as a sign, they blessed themselves and held up hand-forged crosses of wood to the heavens. When there was no announcement made from the Vatican, the citizens began to pray more fervently and to chant more loudly.
The cardinals went back to their cells to reconsider.
The second count, two days later, was much the same as the first; no real concessions had been made, and this time when the black smoke rose from the chimney, the praying weakened and singing grew fainter. The piazza was eerie in the darkness, lit by only a few lanterns and flickering street lamps.
Wild rumors swept throughout Rome. Citizens