Before the great bronze doors of the Vatican, Swiss Guards in medieval uniforms leaned upon their halberds. It was near dawn, and broad St. Peter's Square lay still and dark in the cool Roman night. But lights still burned in the windows of the Vatican palaces, to the right of the Square and its long Bernini colonnades. One light shone dimly. In the small second-story chamber which it illuminated, on a plain brass bed, a weary old man lay breathing heavily. A black-cowled monk, a silent doctor kept vigil.
The old man on the bed was His Holiness Pius XI, Vicar of Jesus Christ, Summus Pontifex, 261st Bishop of Rome, Servant of the Servants of God, Head of the One, Holy, Catholic and Apostolic Church for 17 years and four days. He was dying. Ill as well as aged (81), he had refused to take to his bed till three days before, stricken by cardiac asthma and kidney disturbances. A sturdy patient, he had told his physician that "the Pope must not stay in bed. The Pope must be Pope." Mindful of Leo XIII, who lay 20 days a-dying, he had said: "I will die sulla breccia"—in the breach.
The long corridors of the Vatican began to sound with the rustling of soutanes and priestly habits. The Holy Father was comatose, his pulse weakly fluttering. Dr. Filippo Rocchi became suddenly alarmed, aroused the Pope's Secret Chamberlains in a nearby room. Present in the modest chamber, in which the Pope could gaze upon a portrait of the longtime protectress of his health, St. Therese of Lisieux, gathered a hushed assemblage: lean, austere Eugenio Cardinal Pacelli, Papal Secretary of State, Camillo Cardinal Caccia-Dominioni, the Pope's protege and master of ceremonies, Count Franco Ratti, the Pope's nephew, Governor Camillo Serafini of Vatican City. The Pope's regular doctor, Dr. Aminta Milani, himself down with a high fever, left his sickbed to administer to the Pontiff a last, desperate injection of adrenalin.
The injection rallied Pius XI for the saS and solemn ministrations reserved, by centuries of tradition, for the last moments of a Pope. To Lorenzo Cardinal Lauri, Grand Penitentiary of the Holy Roman Church, Pius XI, propped up by pillows, whispered his confession, received absolution for his sins. Then attendants washed the Pope's face, hands and feet for their anointing in the last rite: extreme unction. The Monsignor Sacristan, Alfonso de Romanis, parish priest of the Vatican, sprinkled the still room and its grave company with holy water. "Thou shalt sprinkle me with hyssop, 0 Lord, and I shall be cleansed. . . "
With holy oil Monsignor de Romanis touched the Pope's closed eyes. "By this holy unction and His most loving mercy may the Lord pardon thee whatever thou hast sinned by sight." The dying man's ears, nose, mouth, hands, feet by holy unction were shrived. With the others' low voices joining in the responses, Monsignor de Romanis prayed: "Make safe Thy servant, my God, who trusts in Thee. Send him, 0 Lord, help from Thy holy place, and defend him out of Zion. . . ."
The dying man's breathing grew shallower. In deep emotion Cardinal Pacelli cried: "Holy Father, give us your blessing!"