CHAPTER LI.
THE HISTORY OF THE ASSASSINATION AND DEATH OF PRESIDENT JAMES A. GARFIELD—THE GREAT TRAGEDY OF THE AGE.
Inauguration of President Garfield—Kissing His Venerable Mother—Chief Magistrate of Fifty Million People—Illness of Mrs. President Garfield—Tender Solicitude of the President for the Welfare of His Wife—She goes to Long Branch—The President’s Plans to Meet Her—His Arrival at the Depot of the Baltimore and Potomac R. R. at Washington—His Buoyant Spirits—Joyous Anticipation of Meeting His Wife—The Assassin Lying in Wait—The Fatal Shot—Tremendous Excitement—The Wounded President—His Assassin, Charles J. Guiteau—Who He is—His Infamous Appearance and Character—His Cool Deliberation—His Capture and Imprisonment—A Thrill of Horror Throughout the Country—Removal of the President to the White House—Arrival of Mrs. Garfield—Her Courage and Devotion—The Fight for Life—Anxious Days—Removal of the Wounded President to Long Branch—A Remarkable Ride—Great Anxiety throughout the Country—Fighting Death—Slowly Sinking—After Eighty Days of Unparalleled Suffering the President Breathes His Last—Grief and Gloom throughout the Land—The Whole Civilized World in Tears—Unprecedented Funeral and Memorial Honors—His Burial at Cleveland—Attendance of Two Hundred and Fifty Thousand People—His Life and Character Reviewed.
No President was ever inaugurated under happier and more favorable auspices than was President Garfield. From the day that the electric wires flashed over the country the unexpected news of his nomination up to his inauguration, his popularity had steadily increased. Of the hundreds of speeches which he was called upon to make under all possible circumstances during the campaign and after his election, every one was appropriate to the occasion, and gave a new revelation of his versatility and capability. His first act after taking the oath of office at Washington, March 4, was to turn and kiss his venerable mother, who had lived to see her “baby” inaugurated as chief magistrate of a nation of 50,000,000 people. His inaugural message was eloquent, patriotic, and courageous, and was cordially indorsed. The people everywhere felt that it was one of their own number whom they had placed in the White House, and they knew that he would not forget them, but would sympathize with their toils and trials. Everything went on smoothly until the President’s appointment of William H. Robertson to the New York collectorship antagonized Senator Conkling, who endeavored to have the nomination withdrawn. President Garfield adhered to his nomination, and Senator Conkling and his colleague, Mr. Pratt, resigned. The Senate then confirmed Mr. Robertson’s nomination without opposition, and the President’s quiet and dignified bearing throughout the whole contest rather strengthened him than otherwise with the country at large, though many politicians of his own party regarded the alienation of Mr. Conkling as something that had better been avoided than precipitated.
Very early in President Garfield’s administration Mrs. Garfield was prostrated by illness, the result of overwork and anxiety, and for a time her life was despaired of. The social demands made upon her during the campaign and after the election at their Ohio home were continuous and exacting, and she went to the White House weary and worn.
Mrs. Garfield is a lady of refinement, devoted to her family and averse to display, although thoroughly at home in the best society. Her home life and quiet has always been more pleasure to her than the attractions of fashionable society. But from the nomination of General Garfield until he left his delightful home for the last time there was no quiet at Mentor. The quiet country house was turned at once into a hotel, crowded with political workers of aspirants for office from morning to night, all of whom had to be courteously received while many had to be entertained with meals and lodgings.
An intimate friend of General Garfield, who assisted him during the campaign, asserts that during a large portion of the time Mrs. Garfield and “Mother” Garfield were compelled to dine or lunch from forty to sixty persons every day, while the children were sent away at night to make room for the guests who had to be entertained. Many of these were persons without claims of any kind upon such hospitality except that they were engaged in political work.
Then came the excitement incident to the removal to the White house, the inauguration, and the daily necessity of giving receptions for the thousands of sight-seers and office-seekers. The break-down came at last, and for weeks the President’s wife was prostrated with severe illness, her life for a time hanging by a thread.
As soon as she was able to bear the journey, the President took her from Washington to Long Branch, and, when her condition warranted, returned to Washington to prepare for a trip through the Eastern States, the central object of which was attendance upon the exercises of commencement week at Williams College, where the members of his class were to celebrate the 25th anniversary of their graduation. Mrs. Garfield’s rapidly improving health, the prospect of a week’s recreation from public duties, and the anticipation of renewing the pleasant associations of college life, all combined to give him great buoyancy of spirits. He was to be accompanied from Washington by several members of the Cabinet and their wives, was to meet Mrs. Garfield at Jersey City, and arrangements had been made at the places included in his tour for most cordial and hearty receptions.
Saturday, July 2, had been fixed upon for leaving Washington, and on the morning of that day the President and those of the party who were in Washington drove to the depot to take the special train which was to convey them to Jersey City, where Mrs. Garfield was to join them. The President walked into the waiting-room of the depot, arm-in-arm with Secretary Blaine, toward the door leading to the train, when a man, who had been lounging about the room, stepped forward and fired two shots at the President from behind, one taking effect in the lower portion of the body, the other inflicting a wound in the arm. The wounded man sank to the floor, and was surrounded by an anxious and excited crowd. As soon as possible he was removed to the railroad office in the building and surgical aid summoned, and after the preliminary treatment of his injuries he was taken to the White House, where his long and patient suffering has become matter of history. The assassin was speedily captured and conveyed to prison, where he was strongly guarded, as threats of summary punishment were freely made by the angry and horrified populace. His name was ascertained to be Charles J. Guiteau, a man of notoriously bad reputation and ill-balanced mind, although he possessed a certain amount of intelligence and shrewdness. He had long been an applicant for office, and had greatly annoyed the President and other officials by the persistence and impudence of his demands. Neither then nor afterwards did the miserable assassin express any regret over his murderous deed, the only sorrow which he expressed being that he did not kill the President instantly, as he had hoped and intended. His plans had all been made with cool deliberation, and his villainy stands out without a parallel in history.
It is impossible to express in words the thrill of horror which the country, and indeed the whole world, experienced as the news was flashed abroad that the President had been shot. From that moment until the time when his wasted form was carried to its burial on the beautiful shore of Lake Erie, there were no distinctions of party and no fractional dissensions in the United States. Everything was forgotten and hushed in the absorbing hope and agonizing prayer that the President might recover and live to complete the administration which had been so auspiciously begun. With varying hopes and fears, the whole world watched at the President’s bedside, and eagerly devoured every word of information sent out from the sick room by the physicians and attendants. Mrs. Garfield, rudely awakened on the day of the assassination from her dream of recreation with her husband by the touchingly thoughtful message dictated by the President, that he was hurt, he knew not how badly, and sent her his love, and wished her to come to him at once, sped from Long Branch to Washington as fast as steam could carry her, and, invalid though she was, bravely took her place by her husband’s side, and comforted and cheered him during his long and weary fight for life. How grandly she rose to the occasion, how tenderly she endured the weary weeks, always wearing a cheerful face, while her heart was breaking with its cruel load, the whole world knows. Her heroic devotion to her husband grandly typified the loyal and self-sacrificing spirit of wifehood, which finds nowhere more conspicuous illustration than in our American homes, and when one of the New York merchant princes proposed the raising of a fund to testify the Nation’s appreciation of Mrs. Garfield’s quiet heroism, money flowed in from every quarter until over $300,000 had been subscribed.
July and August slowly wore away, the hopes aroused by one days’ favorable indications being dashed by the appearance of some new complication, or the development of some alarming symptom, and early in September the physicians were importuned by the President to take him away from Washington. He wanted most of all to go to his Ohio home, but being told that was impossible his next thought was Long Branch, where he could see the ocean and breathe its life-giving air. The journey was undertaken, and so complete were the arrangements and appliances for his comfort that he endured the railroad ride of 250 miles with apparent advantage, rather than discomfort. Weak as he was he enjoyed the ride, and at one time said to Mrs. Garfield, “Well, Crete (his pet name for Lucretia) this is a great ride, isn’t it.” It certainly was a great ride, and the whole country stood with bated breath, watching the telegraphic reports of the progress of the swift-moving train. Quartered at Long Branch in a luxurious cottage tendered by a British subject, Mr. Francklyn, of New York, the cool sea-breezes for a time seemed to send life into his blood, and once or twice after his arrival he, at his own request, was permitted to recline in an easy position by the window where he could look out upon the ocean. One day while Mrs. Garfield was in the adjoining room, love, hope, and gratitude filling her heart, she sang the beautiful hymn commencing—
“Guide me, O thou Great Jehovah!”
As the soft and plaintive notes floated into the sick chamber the President turned his eyes upon Dr. Bliss and asked:
“Is that Crete?”
“Yes,” replied the Doctor, “it is Mrs. Garfield.”
“Quick, open the door a little,” anxiously responded the sick man.
Dr. Bliss opened the door, and after listening a few moments Mr. Garfield exclaimed, as the large tears coursed down his sunken cheeks:
“Glorious, Bliss! isn’t it?”
But the hopes that were awakened were illusive and short-lived, and at 10.35, Monday evening, September 19, on the anniversary of the battle of Chickamauga, in which he won great distinction for personal heroism and cool, clear-headed generalship, the earthly life of James Abram Garfield was ended.
The sad event was announced in many of the principal cities by the tolling of the bells at midnight, and never did the death of a man cause such general lamentation and inspire such a universal outburst of public and private grief. Dispatches of condolence and sympathy were sent to Mrs. Garfield and the State Department from every government in the old world, and Queen Victoria, mindful of that dark hour when the noble Prince Consort was taken from her side, sent touching messages of womanly sympathy, and directed her ambassador at Washington to lay a rich and costly floral offering upon the coffin of the dead President. After funeral services at Long Branch the remains were borne back to Washington over the same route which the President traversed on his way to the sea, and after imposing funeral ceremonies in the Capitol building the cortege once more pursued its mournful way to Cleveland, where, on Monday, September 26, 250,000 people from all parts of the country participated in the final obsequies. That day was also observed throughout the United States, and in England and other countries as well, as a general memorial day, and was marked by the total suspension of ordinary business and the holding of public services in all the cities and towns. These observances in this country were invited by President Arthur and the State executives, but in truth no official summons was needed to stimulate every possible tribute of respect. The whole country was in mourning, and, as it was when the Prince of Orange died, “the little children cried in the streets.”
President Garfield was large-framed, large-brained, and large-hearted. He was six feet in height and was a splendid picture of a man. His personal character and habits were clean and pure, and his home life at Mentor or Washington was simply delightful. No husband and wife ever lived happier together than President and Mrs. Garfield, and no man who honored his mother as did President Garfield could fail to be idolized by his children. Five of his seven children survived him, two of whom, Harry and James A., entered Williams College as freshmen during their father’s illness.
President Garfield was one of the closest students this country has ever known. No man at Washington ever made so much use of the vast literary treasures of the Congressional library as he, and when he was tired and worn by committee and legislative work, he used to find recreation in general literary study. At the close of a long and busy session of Congress, a caller found him surrounded with every edition of the Latin poet, Horace, which he could find in the library, and he was hard at work “resting himself,” as he called it. It has been well said, since his death, by one of our well-known scholars and public men: “The future historian will declare Garfield the most thorough student of political problems in the Presidential chair since John Quincy Adams; the man of most scholarly breadth in statesmanship since James Madison; the most eloquent parliamentarian since John Adams. His had been a life, a career, a character which would have satisfied the highest hopes of Washington and Jefferson for their successors in the chief magistracy.”
In a word, James A. Garfield was a man physically, intellectually, and morally who was an honor to his country and to his race, and no more imperishable name will ever adorn our country’s annals.
THE END.
(Whole number of pages with illustrations, 705.)
Transcriber’s Note
The Table of Contents refers the reader to p. 92 for Chapter IX. The chapter begins on p. 93 and the Table was amended.
President Fillmore’s name was spelled with a single ‘l’ in nearly all appearances.
On p. 298, the author provides a list of Secretaries of the Treasury which mis-names Walter Forward (as Howard) and George Bibb (as Beble). The mistakes are retained but noted. The name of the last Postmaster-General appointed by Washington was also corrupted being Joseph Habersham, rather than Haloshan (p. 395).
Some compound words are hyphenated inconsistently. When the hyphenation occurs on a line break, the hyphen is removed unless there is clear evidence that it should be retained.
Other errors deemed most likely to be the printer’s have been corrected, and are noted here. The references are to the page and line in the original.
vii.32 “Poor Hallet[t]” and His Plan Removed.
viii.22 Bust of Koscius[c/k]o Replaced.
x.36 A Well-Regulated [A ]Lady Removed.
xv.45 “She’ll do it _Cheaper[]_” Added.
xx.25 The Tra[d/g]edy of the Decatur House Replaced.
21.27 but as a Capital he never entered it[.] Added.
23.11 Rhode Island, Newport; Maryland, An[n]apolis; Inserted.
27.22 in the State of Pennsylvania.[”] Added.
74.9 of a suddenly growing city[.] Added.
143.6 every Vice[ /-]President who reigned in the Replaced. Senate
147.25 The gown worn by Judge Mc[C/L]lean still hangs Replaced.
109.9 Bust of Koscius[c/k]o Replaced.
123.2 where we witness a _teté-a-teté>_ _sic>_ tête-à-tête
157.19 to repeat the _Unter de[r/n] Lindens_ Replaced.
190.5 he is a poet after all.[”] Added.
203.6 Mr. John [O/A]gg’s Little “Poem” Replaced.
243.17 “Bare-necked Dowagers[”] Added.
256.11 [“]The Census of Spittoons” Added.
256.13 “More Than Shak[e]speare’s Women” Inserted.
273.18 The President looks decid[ed]ly cooler Inserted.
278.18 A Protest again[s]t “Shams” Inserted.
298.30 Walter [Howard], of Pennsylvania; _sic_ Forward
298.31 George M. [Beble], of Kentucky _sic_> Bibb
302.1 to succeed Vice[ /-]President Henry Wilson Replaced.
334.13 Such is its acknowle[d]ged value Inserted.
364.25 in the Dead[ /-]Letter Office Replaced.
365.13 for an entire State,[”] Removed.
381.1 Yet there was scar[c]ely a Member Inserted.
389.26 As early as the year [1792] _sic_ 1692
393.32 This experiment brought him in debt £9[0]0 Unclear.
394.23 at a salary of $100 per ann[n/u]m Inverted.
395.18 Joseph [Haloshan/Habersham] Replaced.
405.22 amounting to $33,658,740[,/.]27 Replaced.
406.3 any sum over $5 is sent by money[ /-]order Replaced.
452.12 [“]On the other side Added.
428.21 within their respective districts[.] Restored.
486.16 Fort Conch[a/o], Texas Replaced.
494.5 for its especial service at Al[la]toona, Ga. Inserted.
558.6 on the river[-]side of the old Burns cottage Probable.
502.23 the central office at Washington.[”] Added.
568.23 and silver shoes.[”] Removed.
575.1 stands jus[t] in front of the old site Added.
576.18 [“]The brother of Lord Ellenborough Removed.
578.15 [“]There he stands, in marble, Removed.
588.15 amid the Wildest Enthusia[s]m Inserted.
590.3 and awoke great enthusi[s]am. Inserted.