DAYS OF ANXIETY AND SORROW.
The Nation was thrown into a state of grief and indignation never before
approached at the terrible news from Buffalo Friday, September 6th.
Methods for transmitting intelligence have been vastly improved since
the assassination of Garfield, since which time no such national
calamity has befallen the United States. Poignant regret, intense
indignation, and a feeling of dismay mingled in the hearts of the eighty
million Americans who stood appalled at the news which swept like wild
fire and reached every part of the world in an incredibly short time.
It was an appalling thought that this great republic, with all its
promises and all its deeds for oppressed humanity, exposed its chief
magistrates to more deadly chances than does any empire or kingdom. But
seven men regularly elected Presidents in the last thirty-six years, and
three of them brought low with the assassin’s bullet!
The news of the attempt on the life of the President was received from
one end of the country to the other first with horrified amazement and
then with the deepest grief. In every city in the United States men and
women gathered and waited for hours to get every scrap of information
that came over the wires. In thousands of small towns the whole
population stood about the local telegraph offices and watched tearfully
and anxiously for bulletins.
Telegraph offices everywhere were swamped with business, messages of
sympathy for the President and his wife from almost every man of
prominence in the nation, and for hours after the shooting telephone
trunk lines were so overburdened that only a small percentage of
subscribers were able to secure service.
Dispatches from every State in the Union showed how widespread and
intense was the feeling of dismay and the sense of personal affliction
with which the news was received. Public men of all shades of political
opinion and social status alike shared the anxiety and found themselves
grasping hands with one another and praying that Mr. McKinley’s life
might be spared. All the details of the tragedy were sought for with
trembling eagerness, and in all the large centers of population every
effort was made to supply this demand by the newspapers, which issued
extras at intervals till far into the night.
Early Saturday morning began arrangements for public prayer in many of
the churches on Sunday. Archbishop Ireland of the Catholic Church,
Bishop Potter, the Episcopal prelate; Cardinal Gibbons of Baltimore, and
high church dignitaries of all denominations joined in the universal
supplication to the Heavenly Father to spare the life of the stricken
President. Fervent were the invocations and the hopeful news of the
following days seemed to portend a favorable answer to the prayers of a
nation.
Political lines were forgotten and Democrat and Populist was as eager to
show respect for the head of the government as the Republicans. It was
respect shown a good man; it was also respect shown the Chief Executive
occupying an exalted position by the suffrage of the people.
At the moment when the country was enshrouded in the gloom of the awful
tragedy, when it was bowed with its own sorrow and overflowing with
sympathy for the bereaved widow, consideration of the dead statesman’s
career and of the political controversies to which it gave rise, was not
attempted. So quick had been the revulsion of feeling, so terrible the
shock, that the one emotion of grief was overmastering and
all-absorbing.
It had been said many times during the era of alternate hope and fear
that Mr. McKinley was the most beloved of our Presidents since Lincoln,
and the frequency of the assertion in every quarter and among all
classes of people is excellent evidence of its truth. Nor are the
reasons for his exceptional hold on the affections of the people far to
seek. He had to begin with that sweet and winning personality which
captivated everyone who saw him. Thousands felt its influence at Buffalo
on the day when the wretched murderer committed his deadly assault, and
they responded to it with an affectionate regard, as other thousands had
done among the many crowded assemblages with which the President had so
freely mingled.
A feeling of tenderest love and veneration was excited also by the
knowledge of the beautiful life’s devotion of the most thoughtful,
considerate and gentlest of husbands. Toward the wife, whom he had ever
near him, the President was a ministering angel. In caring for her he
evinced the delicacy of a woman, the strength of the strongest of men.
May she find resignation in that submission which he taught her, saying:
“God’s will, not ours, be done.”
That such a noble, true soul, such a high-minded man should have been
struck down in the very fullness of his powers, when his great abilities
were receiving a broadening recognition and he was still growing in the
affectionate esteem of his countrymen, caused universal lamentation.
Ex-President Grover Cleveland was fishing at Darling Lake, in Tyringham,
Mass., when he received the news regarding the shooting of President
McKinley. He at once started for the shore in order to hear more details
in regard to the matter, and anxiously asked for the latest advices from
Mr. McKinley’s bedside. Mr. Cleveland was horrified at the news and
said:
“With all American citizens, I am greatly shocked at this news. I cannot
conceive of a motive. It must have been the act of a crazy man.”
Following receipt of the news of the attempt on his life, W. J. Bryan
sent a brief message to President McKinley expressing his concern. Mr.
Bryan gave out the following statement:
“The attempted assassination of the President is a shock to the entire
country, and he and his wife are the recipients of universal sympathy.
The dispatches say that the shot was fired by an insane man, and it is
hoped that this is true, for while it is a terrible thing for a
President to be the victim of the act of a maniac, it would be even
worse for him to be fired upon by a sane person prompted by malice or
revenge.
“In a republic where the people elect their officials and can remove
them there can be no excuse for a resort to violence. If our President
were in constant fear of plots and conspiracies we would soon sink to
the level of those nations in which force is the only weapon of the
government, and the only weapon of the government’s enemies.”
An intensity of sympathy was manifested in Canton, for 30 years the home
of the McKinleys, for President and Mrs. McKinley, rarely equalled.
Cantonians who have so long known them felt that the life of the
President meant the life of Mrs. McKinley; his death, they believed,
would likely mean the death of Mrs. McKinley in a short time. Eager
residents of all classes surrounded telegraph and newspaper offices and
watched for bulletins from the bedside of the patient.
In addition to the private expressions of deepest regret and sympathy,
public action was taken by many organizations. The commander of Canton
Post, G. A. R., of which Mr. McKinley was a member, telegraphed
Secretary Cortelyou:
“The President’s comrades of Post No. 25 desire to tender him their
profoundest sympathy and to express earnest hopes for his safe
recovery.”
The official body of the First Methodist Episcopal Church, of which the
President was a member, adopted resolutions, which say:
“Dear Brother McKinley:—The fourth quarterly conference in this church,
now in session, has learned with unspeakable sorrow of the most
deplorable incident of which you are the victim. The brethren are deeply
concerned and unite in agonizing importunities that God may intervene to
avert serious consequences and graciously minister to you all needed
spiritual comfort and grant you speedy and complete physical recovery.
We also extend to your dear wife assurances of our profoundest and most
prayerful sympathy, trusting God may comfort her in the great trial
through which you are passing.”
Life at Washington was enveloped in sadness during the fateful week. In
every quarter expressions of the profoundest sympathy were heard. The
wish foremost in the minds of all was that the President be spared, and
whenever encouraging advices were received from Buffalo there was a
general feeling of rejoicing.
Officials of the government who were too affected by the news first
received to discuss the crime talked more freely later and gave
expressions of great indignation at the atrocious act. At the Executive
Mansion messages poured in constantly. There were few callers.
Bulletins were received at the White House hourly announcing Mr.
McKinley’s condition, and those reporting an increase in the President’s
temperature occasioned concern.
In a mechanical way the executive departments opened on the day
following the assassination, but the employes had no heart to work, and
the corridors were filled with knots of eager seekers after the latest
bulletins from the President’s sick bed. The excitement in the streets
was continuous and crowds lingered around the newspaper bulletin boards,
while people walked along with sober faces and with frequent expressions
of sorrow and many anxious inquiries.
At the State Department were received an accumulation of cablegrams and
telegraph messages, all expressing the gravest concern and condolence.
These messages were from all parts of the world. They continued to flow
in upon the department. They came from crowned heads, from foreign
ministers, from resident ministers of foreign countries in the United
States and from individuals of distinction. Some of them follow:
Rambouillet, September 7.—With keen affliction I learn the news of
the heinous attempt of which your excellency has just been a victim.
I take it to heart to join with the people of the United States in
wishing the early recovery of your excellency, and I earnestly
desire in this sorrowful juncture to renew to you the assurance of
my sentiments of constant and cordial friendship.
Emil Loubet.
Koenigsberg, September 7, 1901.—The Emperor and I, horrified at the
attempt planned against your husband, express our deep-felt sympathy
hoping that God may restore to health Mr. McKinley.
William, I. R.
Victoria, I. R.
Rome, September 7, 1901.—Deeply grieved, terrible crime. Trust
President will be spared to his country and friends.
Baron Fava.
London, September 7.—Secretary of State, Washington:—Following
messages of condolence received:
From His Majesty, the King, to American Ambassador—Offer my deepest
sympathy at the dastardly attempt on the President’s life. Have
telegraphed direct to President.
From the Lord Mayor of London—The citizens of London have received
with profound regret and great indignation intelligence of the
dastardly attack on the life of the distinguished President of the
United States and desire to convey through your excellency their
sincere sympathy with your country in this melancholy event. They
trust that so valuable a life as President McKinley’s may be spared
for the welfare of the American people.
From Vice Dean of Canterbury Cathedral—Accept expression of deep
sorrow at outrage upon President. Prayers offered for his recovery
at all services in Canterbury Cathedral.
From Lord Provost of Edinburgh—In the name of the citizens of
Edinburgh I beg to express horror at the dastardly outrage upon
President McKinley and to assure him and Mrs. McKinley and the
government and people of the United States of our sympathy with them
and prayers for President’s recovery.
From Field Marshal Lord Roberts—Please convey to President and Mrs.
McKinley on behalf of myself and the British army our profound
regret at what has occurred and our earnest hope that Mr. McKinley’s
valuable life may be spared.
Choate, Ambassador.
London and all England received the news of the attempt on Mr.
McKinley’s life with incredulity. Every newspaper and every hotel was
besieged with anxious Americans inquiring for the latest intelligence of
the reported assassination.
King Edward VII. and Queen Alexandra were traveling in Germany when the
news of the assassination reached them. They were greatly shocked.
Police guards on the train and along the route were at once ordered
increased, as it was feared the shooting of the President at Buffalo
might induce some European anarchist to make an attempt on the life of
King Edward.
In spite of the late hour at which the news of the attempted
assassination of President McKinley reached Paris the report that the
American President had been fatally wounded caused the greatest
excitement on the boulevards. The occupants of the cafes left their late
suppers, rushing in hot haste from the tables to the newspaper offices
to verify the news.
Immediately the outburst of sorrow over the attempt on President
McKinley’s life was spent, comment in Berlin was universally directed
against what was termed America’s guilty lenity toward the anarchistic
fraternity.
The tenderest sympathy and praise of McKinley mingled with deep
abhorrence of the crime and vehement denunciation of the teachings that
inspired it from every part of the South prove conclusively that the
love for the martyr President was as great there as in the North.
It is significant that much of this laudatory comment was coupled with
grateful recognition of the work done by the President in unifying the
two sections of the country. It is doubtful if the President’s most
zealous admirers in the North can surpass in fervor of affectionate
regard many of the editorial tributes in the Southern press.
A few discordant notes—not sufficient to merit more than passing notice,
however—marred the general voice of sympathy and condolence. In an
interview regarding the attempt to take the President’s life, Senator
Wellington of Maryland was reported as saying:
“McKinley and I are enemies. I have nothing good to say about him, and
under the circumstances do not care to say anything bad. I am
indifferent to the whole matter.”
The Senator subsequently refused to deny the interview, and his silence
was construed as an affirmation of it. For this unpatriotic utterance
the Atlanta Journal editorially called upon the United States Senate to
expel him from that body as being unfit to represent the people of
Maryland in the highest council of the nation.
In various parts of the country reflections on the President or
expression of pleasure at the crime led to rough treatment by indignant
crowds. Only cool heads saved several detractors of McKinley from being
lynched. Here and there an anarchist would attempt to incite the crowd
in behalf of the assassin, but all such attempts were repulsed and the
demagogues arrested or driven from the town.
After the first great wave of sorrow and despair had swept the land, the
bulletins from Buffalo brought back hope. From Sunday on to Thursday the
indication grew more favorable and the fact that recovery seemed assured
led many churches to arrange thanksgiving services.
The day of prayer seemed to have passed, the prayer granted and the
hearts of a grateful people were set on a day of thanksgiving. Among
earnest Christian men and women the desire to anticipate the regular
annual thanksgiving festival was universal, and even such persons as
have little faith in the efficacy of prayer approved the suggestion that
there should be some common recognition of our national good fortune in
the escape of the President from death.
Messages of congratulation poured in on the relatives and friends at
Buffalo by the hundreds, hope rose high, and cheerful faces shone where
all had been gloom. This buoyant feeling continued until Thursday night
at Buffalo, and only on Friday morning did the nation learn of the
change for the worse.
Among the cablegrams of congratulations sent by European rulers were
those from the King of England, the Czar of Russia, the King of Greece
and the Emperor of Austria.
The following dispatch was received at the American Embassy at London:
“I am delighted to hear your last most satisfactory account of your
President. I sincerely trust that his convalescence may soon be
completed.
“Edward, R.”
The following message was received from the Czar of Russia:
“Fredensborg—To President McKinley, Buffalo, N. Y:—I am happy to
hear you are feeling better after the ignominious attempt on your
life. I join with the American people and the universal world for
your speedy recovery.
“Nicholas.”
The following message was received from King George of Greece at
Fredensborg:
“I rejoice to hear that you so happily escaped the terrible attempt
on your precious life, which has horrified the civilized world, but
hope to God that you recover for the good and glory of the American
people.”
Emperor Francis Joseph of Austria sent an expression of his sympathy at
the probable recovery of the President to the United States government
to-day. The dispatch was sent through the American Embassy.
On Thursday all was hopefulness; on Friday gloom and fear; on Saturday
heads bowed in mourning. Death came with an awful suddenness,
notwithstanding the week of suffering. The passionate hope that the
President would recover had been followed by a feeling of perfect
assurance that he was out of danger, when the wholly unexpected news of
Friday put the people on the rack again. There was another torturing
day, and when it ended hope and confidence had yielded to universal
grief and to a fruitless questioning of the impenetrable ways of
Providence. It seemed inexplicably strange that a man so beloved and
unoffending and so rich in good works should have been made the victim
of the assassin’s bullet.
All day long the bulletin boards in every city were surrounded by crowds
waiting in suppressed excitement for the latest word from the Milburn
home, and numerous newspaper extras were eagerly snapped up.
Every household in Washington was in mourning. The sorrow was complete.
Large crowds assembled about the bulletin boards early in the evening of
the memorable day, eagerly awaiting the latest news, hoping against hope
that something would happen, in the mysterious workings of the Almighty,
to spare the President.
The oldest citizens cannot remember when a calamity brought to the
national capital such profound grief. The excitement was more intense
when Lincoln succumbed to the bullets of the assassin, Booth, and the
people sincerely mourned him, but while he was widely loved, his death
did not so afflict the people. Garfield was generally admired, and the
calamity that overtook him awakened the sympathy of the people, but he
was not mourned as was McKinley.
If the precedents set by President Arthur are followed by President
Roosevelt, the coming winter will be entirely devoid of official gayety.
The official mourning will extend over six months and will be rigorously
observed. This period will include New Year’s and the usual courtesies
extended to the diplomatic corps, the Congress, the judiciary and the
army and navy. The official mourning will end on March 14, 1902, and as
this date falls after Shrove Tuesday, the official social season will be
allowed to lapse. Therefore the New Year’s reception of 1903 will in all
probability be the first formal gathering of the official and social
world at the White House.
Half-masted flags and black column rules mutely proclaimed England’s
sentiments touching the death of President McKinley. These symbols of
mourning, countless in their multitudes, visibly recalled the country’s
grief at the loss of Queen Victoria. Not only on land, but also at sea,
the British honored the martyr President. Thousands of buildings, both
public and private, and all the shipping around the coast, flew the
Union Jack half-way up the staff. Every British war ship within reach of
the telegraph displayed its ensign of sorrow.
The Pope prayed an hour to-day for the soul of President McKinley. The
pontiff wept with uncontrollable emotion on receiving the news of the
President’s death. All audiences at the Vatican were suspended.