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.