In the Catholic Church, the election of a new pope is one of the most sacred and solemn responsibilities given to the College of Cardinals. Today’s papal conclave—known for its white smoke signals, intense secrecy, and spiritual gravitas—may appear ancient and unchanging. But it wasn’t always this way. The formal conclave process, as we now know it, was born out of crisis, public frustration, and divine necessity more than 750 years ago.
According to Kielce Gussie, writing for Vatican News, the word “conclave” itself derives from the Latin cum clave, meaning “with a key.” This unusual term originated during the longest papal election in Church history, which lasted nearly three years and took place not in Rome—but in a fortified town just 90 minutes north, called Viterbo.
In the 13th century, Rome was rife with political unrest, making it unfit to house the papacy. The Church was caught between two rival factions—the Guelphs and the Ghibellines—each claiming authority over Church appointments. Amid the turmoil, Pope Alexander IV moved the papal residence to Viterbo in 1257, a city that offered not only safety but spiritual significance as a key stop on the Via Francigena, an ancient pilgrimage route from England to Rome.
Viterbo became the temporary seat of the papacy for 24 years. It was there, in 1268, that the Church entered into sede vacante, the period of a vacant papal see, following the death of Pope Clement IV. At that time, 19 of the 20 cardinal electors gathered to select his successor—but months turned into years without agreement. Tensions rose, not only among the cardinals, but among the people of Viterbo.
Frustrated by the delay, the citizens and their leader, Captain Raniero Gatti, decided to take dramatic action. As Gussie recounts, “they… locked the cardinals in the Palace of the Popes with a key or ‘cum clave’… The cardinals, locked in from the outside, were also limited to bread and water.” The message was clear: make a decision, or remain confined.
Their pressure worked. In September 1271, after more than three years, the cardinals finally elected Pope Gregory X.
Rather than dismiss the ordeal as an unfortunate anomaly, Gregory X saw an opportunity for reform. He issued the Apostolic Constitution Ubi periculum, which established structured and enforceable rules for papal elections—rules that form the foundation of the conclave process still used today. Though initially slow to be implemented, these reforms were later enshrined into canon law by Pope Boniface VIII.
What began as a desperate act by laypeople became divine inspiration for Church governance. The locking of cardinals behind closed doors, once an act of civil protest, is now a spiritual safeguard—ensuring that the election of the pope remains a process guided by prayer, unity, and the Holy Spirit.
As Gussie notes, “Viterbo… became the birthplace of the conclave.” The City of Popes reminds us that even amid confusion and delay, the Holy Spirit can work through unexpected means to bring about clarity, leadership, and reform for the good of the entire Church.
I completely agree with the perspective presented in this article. The history of the papal conclave is not only fascinating but also a powerful reminder of how divine providence can emerge from moments of crisis and uncertainty. The origins of the conclave in Viterbo show how both spiritual and civic forces shaped a process that is now sacred and deeply respected within the Catholic Church.