CHAPTER XXXIV.
FUNERAL SERVICES AND PROCESSION AT WASHINGTON.
At 9 o’clock Tuesday morning, September 17, 1901, the funeral cortege of William McKinley, twenty-fifth President of the United States, third incumbent of the office to fall by an assassin’s hand, started from the White House toward the capitol. President Roosevelt, accompanied by his wife and sister, arrived half an hour earlier at the Executive Mansion, and were given seats in the big Red Room. Almost immediately after came former President Cleveland, with Daniel Lamont. Others, notable in the official and social life of the nation, quickly assembled, and the rooms and corridors were filled with a silent, sorrowful throng. Just before 9 o’clock Senator Hanna came into the room. He is visibly aged by the events of the past fortnight. His face seems drawn and pallid, his form is less erect, and all that vigorous, quickly deciding manner seems gone.
Precisely at the hour appointed the big men from the ranks of the Army and the Navy lifted the black casket of him who had been named “Our Well Beloved,” and carried for the last time through the doors and down to the waiting hearse. There was on the part of the thousands, both those of the party and the throngs outside, an instant recognition of the contrast between this departure from the White House, and William McKinley’s other passings through its doors.
A long line of carriages waited in the streets, and scores of others were massed in the ample grounds at the east front of the mansion. The muffled drums beat the long roll, the military band played “Nearer, My God, to Thee;” and then, as the solemn march began, the mournful strains of the “Dead March from Saul” were borne by the morning breezes over the assembled thousands.
President Roosevelt, with his wife and sister, occupied the first carriage behind the hearse, a band of black crepe bound about his arm. The carriage was drawn by four black horses. Next in order came the carriage of Grover Cleveland, who was accompanied by General John M. Wilson and Robley D. Evans. Following directly came the Justices of the Supreme Court, in their robes of office. Army and navy men, in full uniform, continued the slow moving procession. Representatives of foreign governments in all their trappings of state, followed in order. One carriage was occupied by Hon. Gerald Lowther, of the British Legation, assigned by a cabled order to personally represent King Edward VII. of England.
Major-General John R. Brooks commanded the entire line, riding a splendid black charger. He was surrounded with his aides, all well mounted.
A cold rain began to fall as the procession started from the White House. It at no time amounted to a heavy shower, but the chilling “drizzle” which marked Mr. McKinley’s second inauguration was precisely repeated in this his last progress to the capitol. The flags were limp. The banners were drooping. The wealth of mourning decoration on buildings laid flat against the walls. As the cortege wound down into Pennsylvania avenue it passed between gathered thousands of people who banked the great highway from end to end, and stood in reverent silence while the dead went by.
In that procession were soldiers and sailors from every service, civic societies, a camp of United Confederate Veterans from Alexandria, Virginia, and a host of miscellaneous organizations. The home of the nation’s government awaited the cortege in silent simplicity. A flag, flying at half mast over the marble entrance, was the only sign of mourning. The law decrees that the government buildings in Washington shall not be draped, and they wore no visible sign of the nation’s bereavement.
Time and again as the line moved from west to east the notes of that plaintive song, “Nearer, My God, to Thee,” rose on the air. At the steps of the capitol a bugle sounded the silver notes of “Church Call.” The soldiers and sailors lifted the casket again from the hearse, and carried it with solemn strides up the long flight of marble steps to the open portal, and deposited it on the catafalque directly in the center of the rotunda, beneath the mighty dome which crowns the capitol. The friends and late advisers of the nation’s chief, the notable men of the country filed in and grouped themselves to the north of the center. Mrs. McKinley was not present. In her weakened condition it was thought wise to afford her all possible repose, as the trip to Canton will tax all her little store of strength.
A hush as of death fell upon the assembly, and then, beginning softly, but swelling grandly as the hymn progressed, a choir sang Cardinal Newman’s touching hymn: “Lead, Kindly Light.”
Lead, kindly light, amid the encircling gloom, Lead thou me on! The night is dark, and I am far from home, Lead thou me on! Keep thou my feet; I do not ask to see The distant scene—one step’s enough for me. I was not ever thus, nor prayed that thou Shouldst lead me on; I loved to choose and see my path, but now Lead thou me on! I loved the garish day, and, spite of fears, Pride ruled my will; remember not past years. So long thy power hath blessed me, sure it still Will lead me on; O’er moor and fen, o’er crag and torrent, till The night is gone; And with the morn those angel faces smile Which I have loved long since, and lost awhile.
Rev. Dr. Naylor, presiding elder of the Washington District of the Methodist Episcopal church, stood close by the head of the casket, and with folded hands, glanced once around that assembled multitude, then bowed his head. Instantly there was a subdued rustling, a sigh of acquiescence, and every head was bent in reverence. His first words were scarcely heard. Outside the storm had risen, and the rain was driving with an angry roar against the great dome above them. Outside, also, a mighty throng of men and women were massed, insistent on admission, crowding for places sheltered from the rain. Dr. Naylor’s prayer seemed echoed in the hearts of those bent in sorrow about the coffin. And this was his prayer:
“O Lord God, our heavenly Father, a bereaved nation cometh to Thee in its deep sorrow! To whom can we go in such an hour as this but to Thee? Thou only art able to comfort and support the afflicted. Death strikes down the tallest and best of men and consequent changes are continually occurring among nations and communities. But we have been taught that Thou art the same yesterday, to-day and forever; that in Thee there is no variableness nor the least shadow of turning. So in the midst of our grief we turn to Thee for help.
“We thank Thee, O Lord, that years ago Thou didst give to this nation a man whose loss we mourn to-day. We thank Thee for the pure and unselfish life he was enabled to live in the midst of so eventful an experience. We thank Thee for the faithful and distinguished services which he was enabled to render to Thee, to our country and to the world. We bless Thee for such a citizen, for such a lawmaker, for such a governor, for such a President, for such a husband, for such a Christian example and for a friend.
“But, O Lord, we deplore our loss to-day; sincerely implore Thy sanctifying benediction. We pray Thee for that dear one who has been walking by his side through the years, sharing his triumphs and partaking of his sorrows. Give to her all needed sustenance, and the comfort her stricken heart so greatly craves. And under the shadow of this great calamity may she learn as never before the fatherhood of God and the matchless character of his sustaining grace.
“And, O Lord, we sincerely pray for him upon whom the mantle of presidential authority has so suddenly and unexpectedly fallen. Help him to walk worthy the high vocation whereunto he has been called. He needs Thy guiding hand and Thine inspiring spirit continually. May he always present to the nation and to the world divinely illumined judgment a brave heart and an unsullied character.
“Hear our prayer, O Lord, for the official family of the administration, those men who are associated with Thy servant, the President, in the administration of the affairs of government; guide them in all their deliberations to the nation’s welfare and the glory of God.
“And now, Lord, we humbly pray for Thy blessing and consolation to come to all the people of our land and nation. Forgive our past shortcomings; our sins of omission as well as our sins of commission. Help us to make the golden rule the standard of our lives, and that we may ‘do unto others as we would have them do unto us,’ and thus become indeed a people whose God is the Lord.
“These things we humbly ask in the name of Him who taught us when we pray to say: ‘Our Father which art in Heaven, hallowed be Thy name; Thy kingdom come; Thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven. Give us this day our daily bread, and forgive us our trespasses as we forgive them that trespass against us. And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil, for Thine is the kingdom and the power and glory, forever. Amen.’”
As the bowed heads lifted a sweet voice rose in song. It was Mrs. Thomas C. Noyes, one who had honored the President—as all women honored him—one who had known him well. The words, the air, the pathos of the scene, combined in a wonderful impressiveness.
Not now, but in the coming years It may be in the better land, We’ll read the meaning of our tears, And there, some time, we’ll understand.
CHORUS.
Then trust in God through all thy days; Fear not, for He doth hold thy hand; Though dark the way, still sing and praise; Some time, some time, we’ll understand.
We’ll catch the broken thread again, And finish what we here began; Heav’n will mysteries explain, And then, ah, then, we’ll understand.
We’ll know why clouds instead of sun Were over many a cherished plan; Why song has ceased when scarce begun; ’Tis there, some time, we’ll understand.
Why what we longed for most of all, Eludes, so oft, our eager hand; Why hopes are crushed and castles fall, Up there, some time, we’ll understand.
God knows the way, He holds the key, He guides us with unerring hand. Some time with tearless eyes we’ll see; Yes, there, up there, we’ll understand.
The venerable Bishop Andrews, the church of which William McKinley had been an almost lifelong member, rose and read the scriptural assurances of life beyond the grave—the blessed assurances that bring such comfort in the hour of grief. Then began the sermon—the funeral oration over the body of his President and his friend.
“Blessed be the God and Father of Our Lord, who of his abundant mercy hath begotten us again unto a lively hope of the resurrection of Christ from the dead, to an inheritance incorruptible, undefiled, and that fadeth not away, reserved in heaven for us who are now, by the power of God through faith unto salvation, ready to be revealed in the last time.
“The services for the dead are fitly and almost of necessity services of religion and of immortal hope. In the presence of the shroud and the coffin and the narrow home, questions concerning intellectual quality, concerning public station, concerning great achievements, sink into comparative insignificance; and questions concerning character and man’s relation to the Lord and giver of life, even the life eternal, emerge to our view and impress themselves upon us.
“Character abides. We bring nothing into this world; we can carry nothing out. We ourselves depart with all the accumulations of tendency and habit and quality which the years have given to us. We ask, therefore, even at the grave of the illustrious, not altogether what great achievement they had performed and how they had commended themselves to the memory and affection or respect of the world, but chiefly of what sort they were; what the interior nature of the man was; what were his affinities? Were they with the good, the true, the noble? What his relation to the infinite Lord of the universe and to the compassionate Savior of mankind; what his fitness for that great hereafter to which he had passed?
“And such great questions come to us with moment, even in the hour when we gather around the bier of those whom we profoundly respect and eulogize and whom we tenderly love. In the years to come the days and the months that lie immediately before us will give full utterance as to the high statesmanship and great achievements of the illustrious man whom we mourn to-day. We shall not touch them to-day. The nation already has broken out in its grief and poured its tears, and is still pouring them, over the loss of a loved man. It is well. But we ask this morning of what sort this man is, so that we may perhaps, knowing the moral and spiritual life that is past, be able to shape the far-withdrawing future.
“I think we must all concede that nature and training are—reverently be it said—the inspiration of the Almighty, conspired to conform a man, a man admirable in his moral temper and aims. We none of us can doubt. I think that even by nature he was eminently gifted. The kindly, calm, and equitable temperament, the kindly and generous heart, the love of justice and right, and the tendency toward faith and loyalty to unseen powers and authorities—these things must have been with him from his childhood, from his infancy; but upon them supervened the training for which he was always tenderly thankful and of which even this great nation from sea to sea continually has taken note.
“It was a humble home in which he was born. Narrow conditions were around him, but faith in God had lifted that lowly roof, according to the statement of some great writer, ‘up to the very heavens and permitted its inmates to behold the things eternal, immortal, and divine;’ and he came under that training.
“It is a beautiful thing that to the end of his life he bent reverently before that mother whose example and teaching and prayer had so fashioned his mind and all his aims. The school came but briefly, and then came to him the church with its ministration of power. He accepted the truth which it taught. He believed in God and in Jesus Christ, through whom God was revealed. He accepted the divine law of the scripture; he based his hope on Jesus Christ, the appointed and only Redeemer of men; and the church, beginning its operation upon his character at an early period of his life, continued even to its close to mold him. He waited attentively upon its administration. He gladly partook with his brethren of the symbols of mysterious passion and redeeming love of the Lord Jesus Christ. He was helpful in all of those beneficences and activities; and from the church, to the close of his life, he received inspiration that lifted him above much of the trouble and weakness incident to our human nature; and, blessings be to God, may we say, in the last final hour they enabled him confidently, tenderly, to say: ‘It is his will, not ours, that will be done.’
“Such influences gave to us William McKinley. And what was he? A man of incorruptible personal and political integrity. I suppose no one ever attempted to approach him in the way of a bribe; and we remember with great felicitation at this time for such an example to ourselves that when great financial difficulties and perils encompassed him he determined to deliver all he possessed to his creditors, that there should be no challenge of his perfect honesty in the matter. A man of immaculate purity, shall we say? No stain was upon his escutcheon, no syllable of suspicion was ever heard whispered against his character. He walked in perfect and noble self-control.
“Beyond that this man had somehow wrought in him—I suppose upon the foundation of a very happily constructed nature—a great and generous love of his fellow-men. He believed in men. He had himself been brought up among the common people. He knew their labors, struggles, necessities. He loved them; but I think that beyond that it was to the church and its teachings concerning the fatherhood of God and universal brotherhood of man that he was indebted for that habit of kindness, for that generosity of spirit, that was wrought into his very substance and became him so, though he was of all men most courteous, no one ever supposed but his courtesy was from the heart. It was spontaneous, unaffected, kindly in a most eminent degree.
“What he was in the narrow field of those to whom he was personally attached, I think he was also in the greatness of his comprehensive love toward the race of which he was part.
“Shall I speak a word next of that which I will hardly advert to? The tenderness of that domestic love which has so often been commented upon? I pass it with only that word. I take it that no words can set forth fully the unfaltering kindness and carefulness and upbearing love which belonged to this great man.
“And he was a man who believed in right, who had a profound conviction that the courses of this world must be ordered in accordance with everlasting righteousness, or this world’s highest point of good will never be reached; that no nation can expect success in life except as it conforms to the eternal love of the infinite Lord and pass itself in individual and collective activity according to that divine will.
“It was deeply ingrained in him that righteousness was the perfection of any man and any people. Simplicity belonged to him. I need not dwell upon it, and I close the statement of these qualities by saying that underlying all and overreaching all and penetrating all there was a profound loyalty to guard the great king of the universe, the author of all good, the eternal hope of all that trust in him.
“And now, may I say further that it seemed to me that to whatever we may attribute all the illustriousness of this man, all the greatness of his achievements—whatever of that we may attribute to his intellectual character and quality, whatever of it we may attribute to the patient and thorough study which he gave to the various questions thrust upon him for attention, for all his success as a politician, as a statesman, as a man of this great country, those successes were largely due to the moral qualities of which I have spoken. They drew to him the hearts of men everywhere and particularly of those who best knew him. They called to his side helpers in every exigency of his career, so that when his future was at one time likely to have been imperilled and utterly ruined by his financial conditions, they who had resources, for the sake of helping a man who had in him such qualities, came to his side and put him on the high road of additional and larger success.
“His high qualities drew to him the good will of his associates in political life in an eminent degree. They believed in him, felt his kindness, confided in his honesty and in his honor. His qualities even associated with him in kindly relations those who were his political opponents. They made it possible for him to enter that land with which he, as one of the soldiers of the union, had been in some sort at war and to draw closer the tie that was to bind all the parts in one firmer and indissoluble union. They commanded the confidence of the great body of Congress, so that they listened to his plans and accepted kindly, and hopefully, and trustfully, all his declarations.
“His qualities gave him reputation, not in this land alone, but throughout the world, and made it possible for him to minister in the style in which he has within the last two or three years ministered to the welfare and peace of humankind. It was out of the profound depths of his moral and religious character that came the possibilities of that usefulness which we are all glad to attribute to him.
“And will such a man die? Is it possible that he who created, redeemed, transformed, uplifted, illumined such a man will permit him to fall into oblivion? The instincts of morality are in all good men. The divine word of the Scripture leaves us no room for doubt. ‘I,’ said one whom we trusted, ‘am the resurrection and the life. He that believeth in me, though he were dead, yet shall he live, and whosoever liveth and believeth in me, shall never die.’
“Lost to us, but not to his God. Lost from earth, but entered heaven. Lost from these labors, and toils, and perils, but entered into the everlasting peace and ever-advancing progress. Blessed be God, who gives us this hope in the hour of our calamity and enables us to triumph through him who hath redeemed us.
“If there is a personal immortality before him let us also rejoice that there is an immortality and memory in the hearts of a large and ever-growing people, who, through the ages to come, the generations that are yet to be, will look back upon this life, upon its nobility, and purity, and service to humanity and thank God for it.
“The years draw on when his name shall be counted among the illustrious of the earth. William of Orange is not dead. Cromwell is not dead. Washington lives in the hearts and lives of his countrymen. Lincoln, with his infinite sorrow, lives to teach us and lead us on. And McKinley shall summon all statesmen, and all his countrymen, to pure living, nobler aims, sweeter and immortal blessedness.”
Again the words and music of that favorite song, “Nearer, my God, to Thee,” echoed through the great rotunda, and then the sad audience dispersed. The funeral of another President was ended.
In the midst of the singing Admiral Robley Evans, advancing with silent tread, placed a beautiful blue floral cross at the foot of the casket.
The last notes died away softly, and with uplifted hands the benediction was pronounced by the Rev. Dr. W. H. Chapman, acting pastor of the Metropolitan Church. This ended the religious service.
There was a pause for a few minutes while the ushers cleared the aisles, and the assemblage began to withdraw. First to retire was President Roosevelt, and as he entered so he left, preceded a short distance by Major McCawley and Captain Gilmore, with Colonel Bingham and Captain Cowles almost pressing against him.
The remainder of the company retired in the order in which they entered, the Cabinet members following the President, and after them going the diplomatic corps, the Supreme Court, Senators and Representatives, officers of the army and navy, and officials of less degree.
As soon as the rotunda was cleared of those who had been invited to attend the religious services the bier was prepared for passage out through the west exit.
The people came in double file, one line passing to the right and the other to the left of the casket. Only a hurried glance was permitted to any one, as it was announced that the ceremony would close promptly at 6:30 o’clock. Whenever there was an attempt to linger, especially over the casket, as there was in many instances, the person making it was admonished by the Capitol police to “pass on.” When they still remained they were pushed along. In this way about one hundred and thirty people were enabled to view the remains every minute.