Читать книгу Complete Life of William McKinley and Story of His Assassination - Everett Marshall - Страница 15

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The people of Buffalo and the visitors within their gates behaved admirably during all the weary days and nights after the shooting of the President. That spirit of mob law, which pervaded the multitude that surged about the Temple of Music in the Exposition grounds at the time of the shooting, speedily gave way to one of obedience to law. The knowledge that the President’s life had not ebbed away, and that eminent physicians said he would recover, had a tendency to restore men’s minds to the normal, and soon the question which passed from man to man was “what news from the President?”

Even the thought of wreaking vengeance on the assassin seemed to have fallen into abeyance. The people became quiet in demeanor, but there was constant anxiety that the physicians had not told all, and that the Nation might at any time be called on to mourn the death of its Chief Executive. This feeling was intensified by the hurrying to the city of members of the Cabinet who were not in attendance on the President at the time he faced the assassin. The first trains brought Vice-President Roosevelt, Secretaries Hay, Gage, Root, Long and Hitchcock, Attorney-General Knox and Postmaster-General Smith. Senator Mark Hanna and other close friends of the President also started hastily for Buffalo, and many of them remained there until the end. The presence of these personages, perhaps, had a tendency to quiet public feeling, inasmuch as they one and all bore themselves with marked dignity during the trying time.

When the President was moved from the Exposition grounds to the residence of Mr. Milburn, there were thousands of people in the streets, but there was no disturbance. Only the tenderest sympathy for the stricken President was manifested, and never, during the President’s gallant fight for life, was there aught to complain of on the part of the people.

The Milburn home is situated in the center of a large lot on which stand magnificent trees. As it became, from the time the President was taken there, the center of interest for the civilized world, special preparations were made to meet the exigencies of the case. It was necessary that only those should have ingress and egress who had business there, and hence the premises were surrounded with police and soldiers. Ropes were stretched so that the crowds which were irresistibly drawn to the scene could be more easily kept back, and the most complete arrangements were made to enable the newspaper men to secure and send broadcast the news of the President’s condition. A huge tent was erected on the lawn and there, from day to day, the doctors, members of the Cabinet, the Vice-President and others were importuned by the reporters for hopeful tidings, which they knew not only the people of Buffalo but the world at large so eagerly awaited.

During all this period the police of Buffalo were working desperately to learn the antecedents of Czolgosz, the assassin; to trace his movements, and to ascertain, if possible, whether he had accomplices. The villainous wretch, whose brutal act had caused all right thinking people to regard him with horror, remained safely in the police station at Buffalo, where he had been taken by the police after the first struggle to keep the people from lynching him. After recovering from the fright occasioned by his first contact with the outraged people, he became flippant and tried to glorify his terrible crime and invest it with the halo of a service to humanity. All these facts were promptly conveyed to the people by the newspapers, and served to intensify the feeling against Czolgosz.

When the fact became known that the President was growing worse, and the physicians became guarded in the expressions as to whether he would recover, the people began to gather on the streets and discuss the punishment of the assassin. As the bulletins became more and more ominous, the feeling rose to fever heat, and there was a rush toward the police station where Czolgosz was confined. Thousands of excited citizens clamored for the life of the criminal, but the police forced them back. Two regiments of the National Guard, the Sixty-fifth and Seventy-fourth, were ordered to assemble in their armories to meet any emergency that might arise.

“We do not propose to allow our prisoner to be taken from us,” said Superintendent Bull, of the police force. “We are able to protect him, and we have the Sixty-fifth and Seventy-fourth Regiments under arms if we need them. No matter how dastardly this man’s crime is, we intend for the good name of American people to keep him safe for the vengeance of the law.”

The fact that the President lingered until early in the morning, before death ensued, probably prevented any real conflict between the police and the indignant people.

The members of the two regiments were summoned to their armories by messenger, telegraph, and proclamation in theaters and public places. This news only helped to direct attention from the dying President to the cell which held his assassin.

That these preparations were quite necessary became apparent by 8:30 o’clock Friday night, when the people had assembled in the vicinity of police headquarters in such numbers that the streets were blocked and impassable.

The police roped off all the streets at a distance of three hundred to four hundred feet from the nearest of the buildings and refused to admit any one within that limit. One hundred patrolmen guarded the ropes and fought back the crowds, while ten mounted men galloped to and fro, holding the crowds in repression.

New details of police from the outside stations came in from time to time, and Superintendent Bull kept in constant touch on the telephone with Colonel Welch, who was at the Sixty-fifth armory, less than a mile away.

In order to divert the attention of the excited crowds, the false report that Czolgosz had been spirited away was sent out. While the source cannot be traced, it is believed the report emanated from the police headquarters. The mob was also informed, whenever possible, that there was no reason to believe that there would be a miscarriage of justice, whether through the pretext that the assassin was insanely irresponsible for his act or through the possibility that he might die before justice could be meted out to him.

It was learned indirectly that Superintendent Bull had asked the insanity experts, who have had Czolgosz under their observation for a week, and Police Surgeon Dr. Fowler, who has had charge of the prisoner’s physical health, to prepare a statement of the exact truth about the prisoner’s health of mind and body.

The President’s clothes, which were removed at the Exposition Hospital, were later sent to the Milburn residence, where the pockets were emptied. The attendant told what he found.

In his right-hand trousers pocket was some $1.80 in currency. With these coins was a small silver nugget, well worn, as if the President had carried it as a pocket piece for a long time.

Three small penknives, pearl-handled, were in the pockets of his trousers. Evidently they were gifts that he prized and was in the habit of carrying all of them. Another battered coin, presumably a pocket piece, was in the left-hand pocket.

The President’s wallet was well worn and of black leather, about four inches by five. It was marked with his name. In it was $45 in bills. A number of cards, which evidently had rested in the wallet for some time, were in one of the compartments.

In a vest pocket was a silver-shell lead pencil. Three cigars were found. They were not the black perfectos which the President likes, but were short ones which had been given to him at Niagara Falls that day. On two of them he had chewed, much as General Grant used to bite a cigar.

The President’s watch was an open-faced gold case American-made timekeeper. Attached to it was the gold chain which the President always wore. No letters, telegrams or papers were found. There was not on the President’s person a single clew to his identity, unless it was to be found in the cards in his wallet, which were not examined.

One of the most striking features of the fateful week at Buffalo was the exclusive use of automobiles by the public officials, friends, relatives and physicians on their trips to and from the Milburn residence. Heretofore the modern vehicles were used chiefly for pleasure and many doubted their utility, but on the well-paved streets of Buffalo they were found to have many advantages over carriages drawn by horses. Lines of the motor cabs were stationed a short distance from the house and whenever a call for one was sent out it approached speedily but noiselessly. No sound as loud as a horse’s hoof on the pavement was made by the vehicles.

The wounded President was transferred from the Emergency Hospital on the Exposition grounds to the Milburn residence in an automobile, and the horseless carriages were sent to the railroad stations to meet officials and relatives coming to the bedside of the stricken man.

When the startling report of the assassination first sped along the wires, causing grief and consternation everywhere, Senator Hanna was at his home in Cleveland. Hanna was undoubtedly McKinley’s most intimate friend in public life, as well as the President’s adviser. Hanna was intensely excited by the news and at once began to make plans for reaching Buffalo as soon as possible. A special train could have been made up, but the time to reach the station would have been considerable.

Some one suggested that the Lake Shore Limited, which is the fastest train between Chicago and New York, be flagged near Hanna’s home, and this was at once done. The railway officials gave their consent by telephone, and when the train approached near the house—the railroad is but a few rods from the Hanna residence—it slacked up and the Senator boarded it. Steam was put on and the delay made up in a few hours. The train reached Buffalo on time.

MRS. McKINLEY ALONE WITH HER BELOVED DEAD.

PRESIDENT McKINLEY’S BODY LYING IN STATE AT BUFFALO.

Senator Hanna took a hopeful view of the situation, and assured everyone with whom he conversed of the recovery of the President. He remained at Buffalo until Tuesday, and then returned to Cleveland, where the G. A. R. Encampment was being held. When he parted from the President he stated that in his opinion, for which he relied chiefly on the physicians, McKinley would be well in a month. Hanna spent Wednesday and Thursday in Cleveland, leaving for Buffalo on a special train when notified of the relapse of the patient. The death of McKinley touched Hanna deeply. He had to be led from the bedside on the occasion of the last interview between the two men. He was almost a total collapse, his face was drawn and his entire form trembled.

On Sunday night, September 8th, two days after the President had been shot, and at a time when it was believed he would recover, Senator Hanna had a remarkable dream, prophetic of the fatal end.

On Monday a newspaper correspondent asked him if he had any fears of a relapse, when he replied:

“That reminds me of a dream I had last night. You know dreams go by contraries. Well, sir, in this dream I was up at the Milburn house waiting to hear how the President was getting along, and everybody was feeling very good. We thought the danger was all past. I was sitting there talking with General Brooke and Mr. Cortelyou, and we were felicitating ourselves on how well the physicians had been carrying the case.

“Suddenly, in my dream, Dr. McBurney entered the room through the door leading to the sick room with a look of the utmost horror and distress on his face. I rushed up to him, and putting a hand on either shoulder, said: ‘What is it, Doctor? what is it? let us know the worst.’

“Dr. McBurney replied: ‘My dear Senator, it is absolutely the worst that could happen. The President has had a tremendous change for the worse; his temperature is now 440 degrees.’ I fell back in my chair in utter collapse, and then I awoke. But, do you know, I could not rest easy until I saw the early bulletins this morning?”

Everyone thought of Mrs. McKinley and the hearts of all went out to her in sympathy when it was known that the end was near. They had tried all day to keep the fatal news from her, but it is probable that when she saw the President she divined something of his serious condition. Mrs. McWilliams, Mrs. Barber, Miss Mary McKinley, and Mrs. Duncan were with her and gave her the most tender and loving ministration. The crowds eagerly scanning the bulletin boards feared for her. It was a matter of current belief that the wife never would survive the shock. There were plenty who said and believed that she would not live through the night; that the papers would tell the world that Emma Goldman’s disciple had murdered a woman and a frail invalid as well as the President of the United States.

It was recalled that the President had several times spoken of his assassin and that he had expressed satisfaction when he learned that the man had not been injured by the crowd. All this was gratifying, but it failed to alleviate the sorrow of that Friday night and the few hours of Saturday in which the President continued alive. All Buffalo, all the Nation, watched with deepest anxiety hoping against hope.

The devotion to duty of Private Secretary George B. Cortelyou during the long painful days that came between the shooting and the death of President McKinley offers one of the most striking features of the historic tragedy.

When the chief fell wounded Secretary Cortelyou was practically forced to fill a part of the vacant place and assume all of its responsibilities. He was at the side of the President when Leon Czolgosz fired the murderous shots, and upon him rested the immediate responsibility of issuing the order for the surgical operation that was performed at the emergency hospital.

When Mr. McKinley came from the operating table it fell to Mr. Cortelyou to make the arrangements for his shelter and care, and from that time to the end he was called upon to pass judgment upon every grave question that arose except the technical medical and surgical matters in connection with the care of the wounded chieftain.

He stood between the sick-room and the world as far as information on the progress of the case was concerned, and the place called for the most delicate judgment. In addition to his official connection with the dying President it was his duty to supervise all of the private personal affairs of his superior.

In addition to the work which he could do by verbal direction the executive correspondence by mail and wire trebled and quadrupled. It exceeded that of any other period in the public life of Mr. McKinley, including the days that succeeded both his first and second elections. It seemed that Mr. Cortelyou must fail in the mere physical task of handling it, but no physical exaction seemed too great for him.

His personal affection for his chief was complete, and the President’s death was a grievous shock to him. He has not faltered, however, and still stands in the place that he must occupy until the last offices have been performed at the grave of Mr. McKinley.