At the close of the address, the oath of office was administered by the Chief Justice of the Supreme Court, and then the immense throngs of people began slowly to disperse.
The threatening clouds of the early morning had all disappeared, and the bright March sun looked down upon a most touching, beautiful picture, as the new President turned around to his dear old mother, the guiding star of his life—and tenderly kissed her.
"Ah! not in Greece or Rome aloneHigh mother-hearts shall swell;America's unsculptured stone!Will Garfield legends tell,—How at the height of fame he durst—The proudest moment of his life—To put the white-haired mother first,Then turned and kissed his wife."
"Ah! not in Greece or Rome aloneHigh mother-hearts shall swell;America's unsculptured stone!Will Garfield legends tell,—How at the height of fame he durst—The proudest moment of his life—To put the white-haired mother first,Then turned and kissed his wife."
As soon as the evening twilight came on, a grand display of fireworks illuminated the city. The Inauguration Ball was one of the most brilliant ever held in Washington. The hall was finely decorated. Just in the centre of the rotunda was a statue of America, surrounded by tropical plants; in her left hand she held a shield, and from her right, a powerful electric light in the form of a torch shone down the four wings of the building.Heavy festoons of evergreens, intertwined with rare flowers, hung from the ceiling, and the lofty pillars were decorated with streamers of bunting and the shields of the States and Territories.
Some four thousand people had assembled in the building before the arrival of the presidential party. Garfield did not take part in the dancing, but after an hour spent in hand-shaking, he retired to a balcony where his wife and mother were seated, and watched with evident enjoyment the brilliant scene below.
The next day the Senate had a special session, and the President announced his Cabinet as follows:—
Secretary of State:James G. Blaine.Secretary of the Treasury:William Windom.Secretary of the Interior:Samuel J. Kirkwood.Secretary of the Navy:William H. Hunt.Secretary of War:Robert T. Lincoln.Postmaster-General:Thomas L. James.Attorney-General:Wayne McVeagh.
The different elements of the Republican party represented by these names seemed to presage rough waters for the ship-of-state; but the choice was made with clear-sighted judgment.
Two great problems confronted President Garfield as he assumed the reins of government. First, what should be done with the national debt, so rapidly maturing?
After considerable investigation, it was deemed best to extend the bonds at a lower rate of interest, that is, three and a half per cent. Garfield's accurate knowledge of political economy and finance saved the country many millions of dollars by this wise plan; and the loans as fast as they have become due have been paid by new bonds issued at this lower rate.
The second problem was not to be solved so readily. How could half a million of importunate office-seekers be appeased, when only a hundred thousand offices were in the President's power to bestow?
The baleful influence of the wretched spoils system began its evil work at once.
Said a leading political paper:—
"The feeling has become a very dominant one that the Government owes every man a living. This is found all the way up from the country school district to town, city, county, state and nation. It need not be said this is an unhealthy condition of things in every aspect. It diverts men's minds from the old paths of industry, and badly demoralizes families and communities. It leads to all manner of crimes, and so intensifies party spirit that all laws provided for their punishment are practically inoperative."
President Garfield had never had any sympathy with the system that tries to appease its partyby "liquidating personal obligations with public trusts." In organizing his administration, he desired to unite and consolidate the Republican party, and to make such appointments as were for the manifest good of the whole country. But it was impossible for him to do this without exciting opposition; the disgraceful rupture in the Senate immediately followed, and the first weeks of his administration presented one continued series of hotly-contested battles.
That the President held his own, in spite of all adverse criticism, showed at once the strong, unyielding hand that guided the Ship of State, and after-events proved that he was clearly right from first to last.
"President Garfield," said one able writer, "used political weapons to combat politicians in the matter of the New York Custom House, but he achieved much by so doing. For the first time since 1876 we have a Republican party in New York distinct from the close corporation that has controlled the organization there these recent years. A nucleus has been established around which all shades of Republican opinion can rally with the good hope of destroying the despotism that has virtually ostracized the best Republicans of the State from influential participation in national politics. The nucleus is an administration party, which invites the co-operation of all who wouldliberalize the organization. With the overthrow of "machine" control, as it has existed in New York and Pennsylvania, and the old would-be dictators remanded to their proper place, a great advance has been made towards that purer condition of political and public affairs that all honest men favor."
FOOTNOTES:[C]See page 480.
[C]See page 480.
[C]See page 480.
The President Plans a Ten-Days' Pleasure-Trip.—Morning of the Fateful Day.—Secretary Blaine Accompanies him to the Station.—A Mysterious-looking Character.—Sudden Report of a Pistol.—The President Turns and Receives the Fatal Shot.—Arrest of the Assassin.—The President Recovers Consciousness and is Taken Back to the White House.
The President Plans a Ten-Days' Pleasure-Trip.—Morning of the Fateful Day.—Secretary Blaine Accompanies him to the Station.—A Mysterious-looking Character.—Sudden Report of a Pistol.—The President Turns and Receives the Fatal Shot.—Arrest of the Assassin.—The President Recovers Consciousness and is Taken Back to the White House.
"Awaspflew out upon our fairest son,And stung him to the quick with poisoned shaft,The while he chatted carelessly and laughed,And knew not of the fateful mischief done.And so this life, amid our lore begun,Envenomed by the insect's hellish craft,Was drunk by Death in one long, feverish draught,And he was lost—our precious, priceless one!Oh, mystery of blind, remorseless fate!Oh, cruel end of a most causeless hate!That life so mean should murder life so great!"J. G. Holland.
"Awaspflew out upon our fairest son,And stung him to the quick with poisoned shaft,The while he chatted carelessly and laughed,And knew not of the fateful mischief done.And so this life, amid our lore begun,Envenomed by the insect's hellish craft,Was drunk by Death in one long, feverish draught,And he was lost—our precious, priceless one!Oh, mystery of blind, remorseless fate!Oh, cruel end of a most causeless hate!That life so mean should murder life so great!"
J. G. Holland.
The anniversary of our National Independence was now close at hand. In spite of the shameful and distressing party factions of the previous weeks, the country had never seemed in a more prosperous condition. The electric state of the political atmosphere had proved itself an element ofpurification, not of destruction, and the outlook for the future grew brighter every day.
On the morning of July second, the President arose at an early hour. Worn out with the harassing disturbances of the past weeks, he felt the urgent need of a few days' rest and recreation. Mrs. Garfield, who had been spending a little time at Long Branch, was to join him in New York; and together with a few members of the Cabinet and their families, the President had planned a ten-days' trip through New England.
It was a lovely summer's morning. The dew sparkled on the beautiful lawn and gay parterres in front of the White House, the cool trickle of the fountain mingled with the twittering of the sparrows as they flitted in and out of their nests under the great front porch.
All nature seemed in sympathy with the joyous mood of the President, as he gaily tried an athletic feat with one of his boys, laughed, jested, and talked about the commencement exercises at Williams College, which he hoped to attend in a few days.
Not one breath of impending danger, not one note of warning was there in the clear, sunny atmosphere of that bright July morning!
Shortly after breakfast, Secretary Blaine drove up to the White House and accompanied the President to the station of the Baltimore and PotomacRailroad, where the express train to New York leaves at 9.30.
Finding they were ten minutes before time, the President and his Secretary remained in the carriage, earnestly talking, until the depot official reminded them that the train was about to start.
Arm in arm they passed through the broad entrance-door into the ladies' waiting-room, which gave them the readiest access to the train beyond.
The room was almost empty, as most of the passengers had already taken their seats in the cars, but pacing nervously up and down the adjoining rooms, was a thin, wiry-looking man, whose peculiar appearance had once or twice been commented upon by some of the railroad officials. Still, there was really nothing about him to excite suspicion. He might have simply missed the train; and, as he seemed inclined to mind his own business, no further notice had been taken of him.
As the President passed through the room, this ill-favored looking man suddenly sprang up behind him, and, taking a heavy revolver from his pocket, deliberately aimed it at the noble, commanding figure.
At the sharp report the President turned his head with a troubled look of surprise, and Secretary Blaine sprang quickly to one side. The wretch immediately re-cocked his pistol, set his teeth, and fired again.
This time the President fell senseless to the floor, and a dazed crowd surrounded him while Secretary Blaine sprang after the assassin. The cowardly knave was easily secured, and then all thoughts centred upon the suffering victim. Mrs. White, who had charge of the ladies' waiting-room, was the first to see the President fall, and, running to his assistance, she knelt down and supported him in her arms. The dreadful tidings flew hither and thither on eagle-wings. Postmaster-General James, Secretary Windom, Secretary Hunt, and others of the party who were to accompany the President on his trip, were soon at his side, and messengers were sent in all directions.
A physician was soon on the spot; the wounded man was tenderly placed upon a mattress, and carried without delay to the White House.
Yet, before he was taken from the station, he suddenly aroused from his half-unconscious state, and turning to one of his friends he said, with his old, self-forgetting thoughtfulness,—
"Rockwell, I want you to send a message to my wife. Tell her I am seriously hurt; how seriously I cannot yet say. I am myself, and hope she will come to me soon. I send my love to her."
At the White House.—The Anxious Throngs.—Examination of the Wounds.—The President's Questions.—His Willingness to Die.—Waiting for his Wife.—Sudden Relapse.—A Glimmer of Hope.—A Sunday of Doubt.—Independence Day.—Remarks of George William Curtis.
At the White House.—The Anxious Throngs.—Examination of the Wounds.—The President's Questions.—His Willingness to Die.—Waiting for his Wife.—Sudden Relapse.—A Glimmer of Hope.—A Sunday of Doubt.—Independence Day.—Remarks of George William Curtis.
The members of the Cabinet and a number of the President's personal friends were at the White House, when the ambulance containing the wounded man drove slowly up the avenue.
When he saw them on the porch, he raised his right hand, and with one of his old, bright smiles, gave the military salute. But for the extreme pallor of his face, no one would have guessed the intense pain he was suffering, as he was borne upstairs to his own room in the southeast corner.
An excited crowd had already gathered about the White House, but troops had been ordered from the Washington Arsenal, and armed sentinels kept a vigilant guard about the executive Mansion.
When Dr. Bliss and the other physicians in attendance examined the wounds, they found the first shot had passed through the arm just below the shoulder, without breaking anybones. The other ball had entered the back just over the hips, but what direction it had taken, of where it had lodged, could not be determined with any degree of certainty. The physicians held a short consultation, and agreed to search for the ball as soon as the President's condition would permit.
The wounded man first complained of pain in his feet and legs, and for a long time the "tiger clawing," as he called it, seemed harder to bear than anything else. It is easy to understand now, how seriously the spinal cord and the whole nervous system must have been affected by that first fearful fracture of the vertebrae.
As the shock began to pass off, the President turned to Secretary Blaine, who was sitting beside him, and said,—
"What motive do you think that man could have had in trying to assassinate me?"
"Indeed, I cannot tell. He says he had no motive."
"Perhaps," said Garfield, with a smile, "he thought it would be a glorious thing to be a pirate king."
Turning to Dr. Bliss, he said,—
"I want to know my true condition. Do not conceal anything from me; remember, I am not afraid to die."
The President's condition was extremely criticalat that time, as there were indications of internal hemorrhage, and the doctor frankly told him that he feared he could live but a few hours.
"God's will be done," he replied; "I am ready to go if my time has come."
As the little group stood in silence about his bed, they recalled his words to Colonel Knox only a few days before, when warned of the danger that might be lurking in hidden corners.
"I must come and go as usual," he said; "I cannot surround myself with a body-guard.If the good of this country, the interests of pure government and of the people against one-man power, demand the sacrifice of my life, I think I am ready."
The arrival of Mrs. Garfield from Long Branch was anxiously awaited all through that long, weary afternoon. An accident to the engine delayed the train upon which she had started, and it was evening before she reached the White House.
The President's quick ears heard the carriage-wheels as they rolled over the gravel driveway, and with a bright smile, he exclaimed,—
"That's my wife! God bless the little woman!" Then the strong-will power that had kept him up to this moment, seemed suddenly to give way. His attendants thought he was dying, and for hours his life hung upon the merest thread.
Slowly, but surely, the tide began to turn. Atmidnight he was still conscious—the doctors thought there was "one chance" that he might recover—the President had bravely taken that one chance; and with lightning speed the good news was telegraphed all over the country.
Sunday morning the President was so much better that he wanted to know what had been said about the assassination—and what was the general feeling throughout the country.
"The country," replied Colonel Rockwell, "is full of sympathy for you. We will save all the papers so that you can see them when you get well; but you must not talk now."
The President smiled, and in the broken slumber that followed he murmured to himself,—
"The great heart of the people will not let the old soldier die!"
The next night was one of fearful suspense, and the dawn of Independence Day was ushered in with mingled feelings of hope and fear.
A few days later, George William Curtis wrote as follows:—
"No Fourth of July in our history was ever so mournful as that which has just passed. In 1826 John Adams and Thomas Jefferson died on Independence Day. But the singular and beautiful coincidence was not known for some time, and then it was felt to be a fitting and memorable end of the life of venerable patriots long withdrawnfrom public affairs. Nearly forty years later, 1863, there was intense and universal anxiety when the great day dawned. Mr. Greeley, in his history, calls the ten days preceding the Fourth of July in that year the very darkest days the republic ever saw. But that was during the angry fury of civil war, when passions and emotions of every kind were inflamed to the utmost. There was fiery party rancor in the feeling of that time, and the whole year was full of similar excitement.
"But the emotion and the spectacle of this year are without parallel. In every household there was a hushed and tender silence, as if one dearly loved lay dying. In every great city and retired village the public festivities were stayed, and the assembly of joy and pride and congratulation was solemnized into a reverent congregation of heads bowed in prayer. In foreign countries American gayety was suspended. In the British Parliament, Whig and Tory and Radical listened to catch from the lips of the Prime Minister the latest tidings from one sufferer. From the French republic, from the old empire of Japan, and the new kingdom of Bulgaria, from Parnell, the Irish agitator, and from the Lord Mayor of Dublin, came messages of sympathy and sorrow. Sovereigns and princes, the people and the nobles, joined in earnest hope for the life of the Republican President. The press of all Christendom told themournful story, and moralized as it told. In this country the popular grief was absolutely unanimous. One tender, overpowering thought called a truce even to party contention. Old and young, men and women of all nationalities and of all preferences, their differences forgotten, waited all day for news, watched the flags and every sign that might be significant, and lay down, praying, to sleep, thanking God that as yet the worst had not come.
"It was a marvellous tribute. In Europe, it was respect for a powerful State; in America, it was affection for a simple and manly character. It is plain that the tale of General Garfield's hardy and heroic life, the sure and steady rise of this poor American boy, taking every degree of honor in the great university of experience, equal to every occasion, to peace and war, to good fortune and ill fortune, had profoundly touched the heart of his countrymen. A year ago, every word and incident of that life was told by party passion—on one side eulogized and extolled; on the other, distorted and vilified. Out of the fiery ordeal he emerged with a general kindly regard and high expectation. Mild and conciliatory in character, of long and various political experience, a natural statesman with an able mind amply stored and especially trained for public duty, simply dignified in manner, a powerful man, singularly blameless,he entered upon the presidency with every happy augury. The country was at peace within and without, and hummed with universal prosperity. The first measures of his administration were both wise and fortunate, and the only trouble sprang from a source which is rapidly becoming the fatal bane of the country—the patronage of office. This breeds faction and makes faction fanatical and furious. If indignation with fancied slights and supposed breaches of faith regarding patronage, could so overmaster a conspicuous and experienced public man like Mr. Conkling as to drive him suddenly to resign the highest political trust which his State could bestow, to imperil his public career, to astound his friends, and to abandon the control of the Senate to his political opponents, it is not surprising that fancied neglect of political merit and service should bewilder the light brain of an unbalanced and obscure camp-follower like Guiteau, until, brooding with diseased mind upon his 'wrongs,' he should resolve to do 'justice' upon the supposed wrong-doer.
"So, in the most peaceful and prosperous moment that this country has known for a half-century, the shot of the assassin is fired at a man absolutely without personal enemies, and a President whom even his political opponents respect. Then to the impression of brave and generous and sagacious manhood, already produced by his career,was added his sweet and tranquil bearing under the murderous blow. The unselfish thought of others, the cheerful steadiness and even gayety of temper, the lofty and manly resignation, with entire freedom from ostentation of piety, the strong love of the strong man for those dearest to him, and the noble response of his wife's calm and perfect womanhood to this supreme and courageous manhood, filled the hearts of his countrymen with sympathy and love and sorrow, and whether he lived or died, his place in the affection of Americans was as secure as Lincoln's.
"Such feeling of millions of hearts for one man is profoundly touching. It gives him a great distinction among all mankind. But it is also a benediction for a people to be lifted by such an emotion. It is impossible that party passion should not be somewhat subdued by it, and that a wholesome sense of shame should not chasten factions and disputes. If such are the men with whom bitter quarrels are waged, and upon whom unstinted contumely and contempt are poured out, shall we not all, upon every side, pause and reflect that to blow mere party fires to fury, and to trample personal character in the mire of angry political dispute, is to disgrace ourselves and the cause that we would serve, and the country whose good name depends upon us? That is the reflection which this last solemn Fourth of July undoubtedlysuggested. It recalled the country to emotions higher than those of the shop and the caucus. It is character that makes a country. It is manhood like that of Garfield and Lincoln which made the past of America, and which makes its future possible. Commercial prosperity and politics and all national interests rest at last upon the honesty and courage and intelligence of the people, not upon mines and material resources, nor upon great railroads or tariffs or free trade."
The Assassin.—What were his Motives.—His own Confessions.—Statement of District-Attorney Corkhill.—Sketch of Guiteau's Early Life.
The Assassin.—What were his Motives.—His own Confessions.—Statement of District-Attorney Corkhill.—Sketch of Guiteau's Early Life.
Together with the overwhelming sense of grief and consternation that had spread throughout the country, was the eager desire to know what motives had actuated the assassin in his terrible deed.
When questioned by the detective who took him to jail, Guiteau declared, "I am a Stalwart of the Stalwarts; I did it to save the Republican party."
"Is there anybody else with you in this matter?"
"Not a living soul," he replied. "I have contemplated the thing for the last six weeks and would have shot the President when he went away with Mrs. Garfield, but I looked at her, and she looked so sick, I changed my mind."
After a careful investigation of the facts, District-Attorney Corkhill published the following statement:—
"The interest felt by the public in the details of the assassination, and the many stories published,justify me in stating that the following is a correct and accurate statement concerning the points to which reference is made: The assassin, Charles Guiteau, came to Washington city on Sunday evening, March 6th, 1881, and stopped at the Ebbitt House, remaining only one day. He then secured a room in another part of the city, and had boarded and roomed at various places, the full details of which I have. On Wednesday, May 18th, 1881, the assassin determined to murder the President. He had neither money nor pistol at the time. About the last of May he went into O'Meara's store, corner of Fifteenth and F Streets, this city, and examined some pistols, asking for the largest calibre. He was shown two similar in calibre, and only different in the price. On Wednesday, June 8th, he purchased a pistol, for which he paid $10, he having, in the mean time, borrowed $15 of a gentleman in this city, on the plea that he wanted to pay his board bill. On the same evening, about seven o'clock, he took the pistol and went to the foot of Seventeenth Street, and practised firing at a board, firing ten shots. He then returned to his boarding-place and wiped the pistol dry, and wrapped it in his coat, and waited his opportunity. On Sunday morning, June 15th, he was sitting in Lafayette Park, and saw the President leave for the Christian Church on Vermont Avenue, and he at once returned to hisroom, obtained his pistol, put it in his pocket, and followed the President to church. He entered the church, but found he could not kill him there without danger of killing some one else. He noticed that the President sat near a window. After church he made an examination of the window, and found he could reach it without any trouble, and that from this point he could shoot the President through the head without killing any one else. The following Wednesday he went to the church, examined the location and the window, and became satisfied he could accomplish his purpose. He determined to make the attempt at the church the following Sunday. Learning from the papers that the President would leave the city on Saturday, the 18th of June, with Mrs. Garfield, for Long Branch, he therefore decided to meet him at the depot. He left his boarding-place about 5 o'clock Saturday morning, June 18th, and went down to the river at the foot of Seventeenth Street, and fired five shots to practise his aim, and be certain his pistol was in good order. He then went to the depot, and was in the ladies' waiting-room of the depot, with his pistol ready, when the presidential party entered. He says Mrs. Garfield looked so weak and frail that he had not the heart to shoot the President in her presence, and, as he knew he would have another opportunity, he left the depot. He had previously engaged a carriageto take him to the jail. On Wednesday evening, the President and his son, and, I think, United States Marshal Henry, went out for a ride. The assassin took his pistol and followed them, and watched them for some time, in hopes the carriage would stop, but no opportunity was given. On Friday evening, July 1, he was sitting on the seat in the park opposite the White House, when he saw the President come out alone. He followed him down the avenue to Fifteenth Street, and then kept on the opposite side of the street upon Fifteenth, until the President entered the residence of Secretary Blaine. He waited at the corner of Fifteenth and H Streets for some time, and then, as he was afraid he would attract attention, he went into the alley in the rear of Mr. Morton's residence, examined his pistol, and waited. The President and Secretary Blaine came out together, and he followed over to the gate of the White House, but could get no opportunity to use his weapon. On the morning of Saturday, July 2d, he breakfasted at the Riggs House about 7 o'clock. He then walked up into the park, and sat there for an hour. He then took a horse-car and rode to Sixth Street, got out and went into the depot and loitered around there; had his shoes blacked; engaged a hackman for two dollars to take him to the jail; went into a private room and took his pistol out of his pocket, unwrapped the paperfrom around it, which he had put there to prevent the dampening of the powder; examined his pistol; carefully tried the trigger, and then returned and took a seat in the ladies' waiting-room, and, as soon as the President entered, advanced behind him and fired two shots.
"These facts, I think, can be relied upon as accurate, and I give them to the public to contradict certain false rumors in connection with the most atrocious of atrocious crimes."
Can such a deliberate preparation as this be deemed an act of insanity?
A gentleman who knew Guiteau as a boy, says that he is of French descent, and that his father, J. W. Guiteau, was "an old resident and respected citizen of Freeport, Ill. He married a very beautiful woman, and with her and the younger children, he joined the Oneida Community. He afterwards returned to Freeport, where he served as cashier of the Second National Bank until his death. At one time he became deranged on the subject of 'Perfection,' and lectured extensively through the North and West on that subject. There were three children. An elder brother, Wilkes Guiteau, for a long time practised law at Davenport, Iowa. A younger sister, Flora, was a very promising girl. When the family left Oneida Community, Charles, then fifteen or sixteen years old, was left behind. He afterwards went to Chicago, where hestudied law, being cared for and supplied with money by his father. After completing his studies, he went to Europe, where he travelled several years, imbibing Socialistic and other eccentric doctrines. A few years ago he returned to this country, and lectured on the second advent of Christ. He published a pamphlet on the subject, in which the egotism of the man was plainly shown. From what I knew of the boy, his education in the Oneida Community, and his utterances on religion, I was not at all surprised at his committing the act. I understand from people employed at the White House that Guiteau had forced himself upon the President several times. He was an applicant for the consulship at Marseilles; and one day obtained access to the President, and acted so rudely that the President had him removed. I have no doubt that, feeling offended by this act, he determined on the course which culminated in the terrible tragedy of July the second."
Night of the Fourth.—Extreme Solicitude at the White House.—Description of an Eye-witness.—Attorney McVeagh's Remark.—Sudden Change for the Better.—Steady Improvement.—The Medical Attendance.
Night of the Fourth.—Extreme Solicitude at the White House.—Description of an Eye-witness.—Attorney McVeagh's Remark.—Sudden Change for the Better.—Steady Improvement.—The Medical Attendance.
The night of the Fourth was a time of extreme solicitude at the White House. Said one who was present:—
"I sat in the great East Room with the Attorney-General.—
"'Ah,' he exclaimed, 'our Garfield was never a better President than he was at the moment when Guiteau's bullet struck him down. He never saw more clearly, and he never had a firmer or better purpose. He was going to be all that the best thought of the country ever expected of him. He was going to be a great President.'
"The last time I had been in this East Room was at Mr. Hayes' last diplomatic reception, when thousands of elegantly dressed people thronged it, and music and lights made it, for that evening at least, the handsomest room in the country. There were no lights now. The great spaces were gloomy with what seemed to be the gloom ofcoming death. Through the open windows on the south side the summer air stole lazily, and the shadows of the draperies seemed to add to the darkness. There was no music now—only the sound of whispered conversation as people went up or down the stairs. The result of the early evening consultation was unfavorable. Tympanites had again appeared, and apparently in a more threatening form than before. Grave men shook their heads. Even the brave Mrs. Garfield lost somewhat of the splendid courage that had sustained her throughout her trying ordeal. For the first time after his recovery from the shock of the bullet, the President seemed to lose hope himself.
"Suddenly there was a change for the better. Toward midnight, the troubled slumbers of the President became peaceful, and he soon sank into the best sleep he had enjoyed since the shooting on Saturday morning. His pulse and temperature became better; there were signs of an improved vitality; the breathing was easier; the pains ceased; there was no longer any appearance of dangerous inflammation or of peritonitis. Hope began to dawn where despondency had been; the faces that had been full of gloom began to look hopeful; there was yet some encouragement. Recovery flung out her signals in the steady breathings and the peaceful slumber of the President. The improvement continued, and again it could besaid that there was hope of final recovery. It seemed as though the strong will and constitution of the man had made one more effort for life."
The cheering bulletins on the following morning kindled fresh hope in the hearts of the people. The general feeling was expressed that the worst was over, and the nation began to take courage. By the ninth of July the President was so much better, that his children were allowed to come into the room. On the 13th, it was reported that his appetite was improving, that he had asked for a steak, and sandwiches of bread and scraped raw beef had been given him. This increase in the variety of his food seemed to give him additional strength, and the condition of the wound was so favorable that it was thought the ball had become encysted.
The first physician who reached the President when he lay wounded at the depot, was Dr. Smith Townshend, Health Officer of the District of Columbia. As soon as he examined the wound, he pronounced it necessarily fatal. Immediately after the shooting, the Secretary of War, according to the President's wishes, had summoned Dr. Bliss, who with other physicians reached the depot soon after Dr. Townshend.
"On the following Sunday morning," says Dr. Bliss, "when the President had fully reacted, had had several hours of rest, was cheerful and competentto attend to any ordinary business, I presented the matter of his professional attendance to him, Mrs. Garfield being present. I then explained to him fully, the valuable professional assistance the large number of medical gentlemen had rendered up to that time, representing, as they did, the best medical talent in the city. His reply was,—
"'Of course, doctor, it will not do to continue the large number of medical gentlemen in attendance; such a number of surgeons would be cumbersome and unwieldy.'
"I said then: 'Mr. President, it is your duty to select your medical attendants now.'
"He replied: 'I desire you to take charge of my case. I know of your experience and skill, and have full confidence in your judgment, and wish you to thank the doctors individually for their kind attendance.' I thanked him, and replied that it would be necessary to select three or four medical assistants as counsel in the case. He replied,—
"'I shall leave that entirely with you; you know what talent you require, and your judgment is best upon that point.' I then selected in order the gentlemen who were immediately associated in the case, Surgeon-General J. K. Barnes, of the army; and Doctors J. J. Woodward and Robert Reyburn, stating in each instance the reason for so doing. He said that was eminently satisfactoryto him. I then turned to Mrs. Garfield and said,—
"'If you desire to add one or more to the number selected, I shall be happy to unite them to our counsel.' Her reply was,—'I would not add one to the number you have selected, and I want to say to you, doctor, that you shall not be embarrassed in any way in your future treatment of this case.' Neither the President nor Mrs. Garfield, nor any member of the household from that time forward, suggested the name of any other physician except the eminent counsel called from Philadelphia and New York, Doctors Agnew and Hamilton." The last-mentioned physicians arrived on Monday morning, and in the consultation that followed they expressed their hearty approval of the treatment adopted. While so much uncertainty remained as to the exact location of the ball, it was folly to risk the President's life in an attempt to remove it.
A relapse.—Cooling Apparatus at the White House—The President writes a Letter to his Mother.—Evidences of Blood-Poisoning.—Symptoms of Malaria.—Removal to Long Branch.—Preparation for the Journey.—Incidents by the way.
A relapse.—Cooling Apparatus at the White House—The President writes a Letter to his Mother.—Evidences of Blood-Poisoning.—Symptoms of Malaria.—Removal to Long Branch.—Preparation for the Journey.—Incidents by the way.
On the morning of the twenty-third of July there came a relapse. While the physicians were examining and dressing his wounds, the President experienced a slight rigor, followed by an increase of febrile symptoms. This was evidently owing to an interruption of the flow of pus, and, on the twenty-fourth, an operation was performed upon the cavity, by which the patient was relieved.
The intense heat of those July days was very debilitating, and a variety of ingenious plans were tried to lower the temperature in the sufferer's room. The most successful experiment was that of Mr. Dorsay's, which was based on the system used in cooling the air in mines. It required considerable machinery, but by its means the temperature of the room was reduced to seventy-five degrees. The system is as follows: A stationaryengine is first employed to compress the air which, when crowded into less space, gives out a large amount of heat. This is carried away by running water, and as soon as the air is again set free, it becomes as cool by expansion as it had before been heated by compression.
On the 27th of July, a piece of the fractured rib was removed; the President was again able to take nourishing food, the fever subsided, and all the bulletins began to assume a cheerful tone.
And so the long, long days passed by, with frequent alternations of hope and fear. On the 11th of August the President asked for pen and paper that he might write a letter.
"Through all those weary weeks of pain,With death's dark angel nigh,But once to grasp the accustomed penThe trembling fingers try."Those brave words from the strong man bowed,Courageously death meeting,To whom amid the courtly crowdOf great ones sending greeting?"The mother-bosom beat afar—To her that tender letter;To her—through life his guiding star—He writes he's 'getting better.'"
"Through all those weary weeks of pain,With death's dark angel nigh,But once to grasp the accustomed penThe trembling fingers try.
"Those brave words from the strong man bowed,Courageously death meeting,To whom amid the courtly crowdOf great ones sending greeting?
"The mother-bosom beat afar—To her that tender letter;To her—through life his guiding star—He writes he's 'getting better.'"
By the middle of August it was evident that the President was suffering from pyæmia, or blood-poisoning. The swollen parotid gland occasionedfresh solicitude, and the stomach refused to perform its ordinary functions. Nourishing enemeta were then administered with excellent results, and the lancing of the parotid-swelling afforded temporary relief.
The sufferer longed for a change of air; the malarial atmosphere surrounding the White House was a constant drawback to his recovery, and early in September the physicians decided to remove him to Long Branch. The sixth day of the month was appointed for the removal, and every possible precaution was taken to make the journey as easy as possible. The bed, and the train in general, were inspected the day before by Surgeon-General Barnes and Drs. Bliss and Agnew. The train was run out to Benning's Bridge, five miles from Washington, and the surgeons thoroughly tested the couch. They said that it was perfect, and that no better arrangement could have been made for the President's journey. In the test of speed the doctors were surprised to find that there was notably less motion and jar at forty miles than at thirty.
The express wagon which was to convey the President to the depot, was in waiting at the front entrance to the Executive Mansion all night. It was a new vehicle, and the springs being well oiled, could not impart much jarring to the bed on which the President would lie.
When the track was being laid through Elberon, on which he was to be taken to the Francklyn cottage as a last hope, the surveyor apologized to a lady whose garden it laid waste.
"Your flowers have required the labor of many summers, madam, and we shall ruin them," he said.
"O sir!" she cried, "I am willing you should ruin my house—all I have, if it would help to save him!"
There was to be a double departure from the White House. The President's sons, Harry and James, were to start for Williams College, and shortly before ten o'clock on the evening of the fifth, they bade their father good-by, and took leave of their mother who was hopeful and courageous, believing the journey to Long Branch would save her husband's life. Their countenances were grave, and the passers-by, as they respectfully made way for them, could not but feel that the two young men were just about to start upon a career as, possibly, their distinguished father was about to end one.
Private Secretary Brown gives the following account of the trip to Long Branch: "Upon leaving the Executive Mansion the President appeared to enjoy the scenery and looked around inquiringly. All the way from the White House to the depot the President was very anxious to observe everything,and in this he was not prevented. He experienced little or no disturbance in being transferred from the vehicle to the car, and his pulse, although slightly accelerated, reaching about 115, fell to about 106 before the train started, and shortly afterward fell to 104 and again to 102. The first stop of the train was made at Patapsco, at which point the parotid gland was dressed. At half-past nine o'clock the President's pulse was 108 and of good character. At that hour three ounces of beef extract were administered. Between Philadelphia and Monmouth Junction, the special train made several miles at the rate of seventy miles per hour. Bay View, this side of Baltimore, was reached at 8.05, and a brief stop was made to enable the surgeons to make the morning dressing of the wound. The wound was found to have suffered no derangement by the travel. The dressing was soon accomplished, and the train, after leaving Bay View, was run at the rate of about fifty miles per hour. The track in this locality is very straight, and in excellent condition, and though the speed was at times greater than fifty miles per hour, the vibration of the President's bed, it is said, was no more than had the train been moving twenty-five miles per hour. The attending surgeons feel very much gratified with the manner in which the removal was conducted, and are generally of the opinion that, withthe exception of being slightly fatigued, the President bore the journey exceedingly well."
"This is a great journey, Crete," he said to his wife, as the train rushed on at lightning speed. "Let her go! The faster the better," he added, when the doctors expressed their fears that the rapid motion of the engine would tire him.
"Don't put down the curtain! I want to see the people! Let them look in!" he exclaimed, as he caught a glimpse of the eager, anxious crowds at the different stations.
One of the Boston dailies wrote as follows—
"In the preparations for the trip the great popular solicitude for the well-being of the President infected even soulless railroad corporations, as they are sometimes called, so that the management of the lines over which he had to pass could not do too much to reduce the fatigue or other injurious effect of the jaunt. It is a credit to our common humanity, that everybody in any way connected with this transfer of the President, from the mechanic to the railroad director, required no spur but his own feelings to exert himself to the utmost for the safety and comfort of him who had suffered so terribly, and evinced such grand qualities under the most adverse circumstances. No railroad train was ever the burden of so much anxious, prayerful solicitation as that conveying the President to his destination. To change and applyone of General Garfield's own expressions, the great heart of the nation must have nobly sustained the presidential patient as he sped on his way to a locality where, it is hoped, the recuperating processes of nature will place him on the high road to convalescence.
"Our despatches note the arrival of the presidential train at different points, and the manner in which the patient bore the ride. As may well be imagined, the people who gathered in Washington to see him on board the train could not help remarking his generally emaciated appearance, but he was sufficiently strong to turn upon his side and wave his adieus to the crowd. The fortitude and will of the President are as surprising as the many unusual episodes of his life."