In regard to the death of the cardinal the memory of the "secretary" is brief, but terribly explicit and pointed.
"Four days" after the fatality-scene, "I was informed that the cardinal desired me to spend the evening in his private apartments.... We had dined at five"—a change of hour; it used to be six. "His eminence had confined himself to his favorite and insipid Chablis, of which he drank one little flask," (Monte Fiascone has slipped from the secretary's memory;) "I to a more generous vintage of Burgundy. The subject of our conversation was exceedingly important. With the idea upon us like an incubus, we conversed in low tones; and ever and anon the cardinal rose and examined the outer door.... The conversation ended by my being intrusted with certain documents to place in safe keeping.... Knowing the importance of the documents, I hesitated to keep them in my possession. Sealing them in a packet, I put on a street dress and hastened to an English gentleman, who cheerfully undertook their keeping.... Cardinal Antonelli asked me for the papers I had received on that fatal night.... I rejoice to say—though strenuous exertions were made to obtain the papers—they were as persistently guarded; and I have them now."
Pretty well remembered for these papers. But how about the cardinal?
The secretary says that, on the morning after confiding the aforesaid sealed packet to the English gentleman, "I rose early and repaired to the palace. The valet had orders to wake his master at seven. It wanted but a few minutes. I retired to my own room. Scarcely a quarter of an hour had elapsed ere the valet rushed in, pale with affright, exclaiming, 'His eminence is dead!' I followed him quickly to the apartment, having alarmed the household. The disposition of the chamber was as ordinary. The cardinal's dress lay on a chair, as the valet had placed it. His breviary was open at vespers. The bed was the only thing disturbed. There were certain indications of a struggle, although very slight. The usually placid countenance of the cardinal was flushed and discolored. The two hands grasped the bed-clothes convulsively. A physician was hastily summoned, who pronounced life to have been extinct some hours. 'From what cause?' I asked. He whispered, 'They will probably say apoplexy.' For himself, the secretary has no doubt it was a murder perpetrated by the enemies of Cardinal d'Andrea."
These are the recollections of the soi-disant secretary. They are well entitled in the whole and in the several details to stand with his precise recollections of the place and date of the funeral that followed in San Giovanni in Laterano, on the 22d day of March, 1865.
The papers announced that Cardinal d'Andrea died in Rome, on the 14th of May, 1868. For the details of his last hours, we are indebted to those members of his household who were with him and closed his eyes. It will be seen how different is the account they give from that of the writer who, if elsewhere he amused us, here fills us with astonishment at the boldness of his assertions, and sorrow for his motives.
On Thursday, May 14th, 1868, the cardinal, who had spent the forenoon in his usual occupations, dined in his usual health, or ill-health, at half-past one. After dinner he continued to transact business with his chancellor for a while, and then arranged to resume it on his return from the usual afternoon drive. He drove out from the Palazzo Gabrielli at about half-past four. His coachman drove, at the usual staid gait of a cardinal's carriage, by the Foro Trajano, on by the Colosseo and San Clemente, to St. John Lateran's, and out of the city gate near that church, along the Via Appia Nuova. When he had passed the first mile-stone from the gate, he was surprised by an order to return. He noticed that the cardinal, who was alone in the carriage, seemed to be suffering. He accordingly turned and retraced his steps at the same gentle gait. On the square of St. John's, he received a second order to go faster; and awhile after, before he reached the Colosseo, the cardinal ordered him to hurry. A fast trot brought them to the Palazzo Gabrielli by about half-past five. The chancellor was there, and assisted the servants to take the cardinal out of the carriage, and to assist him up to his chamber. He was suffering very much from a difficulty of breathing, and seemed otherwise in pain. It was a crisis such as he had had before, but it seemed more severe than usual. The cardinal sent word to the chancellor not to leave. He expected the spasm to pass away in a little while, and when it would be over, they might resume their work as arranged.
The chancellor waited until near seven, when, learning that the attack still continued, he entered the sickroom. He was not only the official, but a devoted and confidential intimate friend of nearly twenty years' standing. He found the cardinal suffering to a degree that filled him with alarm. A physician was sent for, but was absent from his residence. An assistant came and prescribed some remedies. By eight, the physician arrived, and took charge of the case, and did not leave the patient. About nine, he was asked if it were proper to administer the sacrament of extreme unction. He replied that, so far, he did not see sufficient danger to warrant it. Meanwhile the cardinal lay on his bed tossing restlessly in pain, and panting for breath, but joining in, as best he could, with the prayers for the sick, which had been begun, at his request, by his chaplain and the attendants between seven and eight o'clock. At ten, he asked to be placed in a large chair in his room. They bolstered him up in it. In half an hour he began to sink. The chaplain hastily administered the rites of the church, and by eleven, Cardinal d'Andrea was no more.
Thus, as is not unfrequently the case, death came somewhat suddenly and unexpectedly, even after years of ill-health.
An autopsy took place, as is customary, we believe, in Rome in the case of cardinals. It appeared that the immediate cause of his death was congestion of the lungs. The right lung was found to be nearly destroyed by tubercles. On one side of the brain a clot or indurated portion, seemingly of long standing, was discovered. In this lesion some of the cardinal's friends thought they found a physical cause of those disordered peculiarities of mind of which we spoke as having been manifested in his later years.