The Sunday Preceding the Burial.--The Crowded Churches.--The
one Theme that Absorbed all Hearts.--Across the Water.--At
Alexandra Palace.--At St. Paul's Cathedral.--At Westminster
Abbey.--Paris.--Berlin.--Extract from London Times.
On the Sunday that the remains of the martyred President were lying in
state at Cleveland, the churches throughout the country were crowded
with congregations in sober and reverent mood. One thought engrossed all
minds, and one topic alone occupied the preacher's desk.
"It was most touching," said one writer, "to see with what sympathy and
sadness every appreciative tribute to the dead President was received;
to perceive by a thousand little indications how profoundly this great
event absorbing all thoughts had stirred the hearts of the people; to
detect the unbidden tears stealing down the cheeks of so many women,
aye, and of men too. The ministers felt the inspiration of the occasion,
and were uplifted by it to greater than ordinary eloquence, to more
tender and more hearty words."
Not only in America but throughout Europe the mourning crowds were
gathered to offer their tributes of respect. At the Alexandra Palace, in
London, a memorial service was held, at which forty thousand persons
were present, many of them in deep mourning.
St. Paul's Cathedral was crowded to overflowing at the announcement that
the services would relate to the death of President Garfield. When the
"Dead March in Saul" was played the whole congregation, numbering many
thousands, arose and remained standing, all showing grief and many
weeping. Canon Stubbs preached, and specially referred to the cruel
manner of President Garfield's death. He extolled his life and virtues,
and expressed sympathy for the sorrowing American nation.
The following sonnet was written in the Cathedral just after the funeral
anthem for President Garfield had been sung,--
SEPTEMBER 25.
Through tears to look upon a tearful crowd,
And hear the anthem echoing
High in the dome till angels seem to fling
The chant of England up through vault and cloud,
Making ethereal register aloud
At heaven's own gate. It was a sorrowing
To make a good man's death seem such a thing
As makes imperial purple of his shroud.
Some creeds there be like runes we cannot spell,
And some like stars that flicker in their flame,
But some so clear the sun scarce shines so well;
For when with Moses' touch a dead man's name
Finds tears within strange rocks as this name can,
We know right well that God was with the man.
At both the morning and evening services in Westminster Abbey reference
was made to President Garfield's death. At the afternoon service Canon
Duckworth said the American people were richer in all that could dignify
national life by President Garfield's death. Had the shattered frame
revived, it would be hard to believe that he could have impressed his
greatness more effectually. At St. Margaret's, Westminster, the Rev. Mr.
Roberts described the assassination as a crime against the whole English
humanity. At all the principal churches of all denominations Garfield's
death formed the subject of sympathetic allusion.
In Paris, Pere Hyacinthe held a memorial service, and at Berlin, one of
the Emperor's chaplains spoke at length upon the martyred President.
The London _Times_, summing up the events of the week, said: "Such a
spectacle has never before been presented as the mourning with which the
whole civilized world is honoring the late President Garfield. Emperors
and kings, Senates and ministers, are, in spirit, his pall-bearers, but
their peoples, from the highest to the lowest, claim to be equally
visible and audible as sorrowing assistants."