The courage exhibited on the battlefield, when the whole being is aroused and the nerves are tingling with a thrill of excitement, is worthy of the highest praise, but to show fortitude and resigned courage in a battle for life, when the approach of death is heralded by unfailing signs, requires a hero. Such was the lamented Chief Executive in the trying hours following the attack of the assassin. Few of those about President McKinley on that memorable day expected to see him survive the night.
Prompt work on the part of the surgeons and a rugged constitution prevailed over wounds considered mortal. The President was under the care of the most skillful practitioners, who were encouraged by the favorable turn, and they, by their bulletins, which were full of hopefulness and buoyancy, led the nation and the entire world to believe that their distinguished patient would soon be back at his desk. All realized the gravity of the situation; nevertheless few anticipated any but a favorable outcome.
Beginning on the eventful Friday night, the official statements sent out were encouraging. While the normal pulse is about 80, the fact that McKinley’s was from 120 to 128 was not considered cause for alarm. In all cases where an operation is undergone, a high pulse follows for some days. During the week the President lay wounded his averaged 120, high under normal conditions, but not alarming in the case of a wounded man.
Dr. P. M. Rixey, the family physician, was the most constant watcher at the bedside of the wounded man. After McKinley had recovered sufficiently to talk, which was on the third day, he would ask regarding the condition of Mrs. McKinley. The assurance that she was bearing up bravely seemed to act beneficially on the President.
Mrs. McKinley was permitted to see her husband daily, but only for a few minutes at a time. As was his wont in former days to cheer his invalid wife, so it was a pleasure for her to show a reciprocal spirit, which she did. The daily meetings were those of true lovers, and every eye in the sick room would be wet ere the parting kiss of the day would be given.
These visits, at all times brief, were still a source of deep satisfaction to the stricken President. The outcome of the struggle vitally interested McKinley, more because of the effect his death would have on his wife and on the nation than for personal reasons.
A man of sterling Christian character, pious and devout, he did not fear death. The end had no terrors for him, but he felt it would leave a void, a vacancy, which none other could fill. The invalid who for 30 years had relied on him alone as her support and protector, her aid and comfort, still needed him. It was parting from her that made him feel reluctant to lay down his life’s work.
Cares of state engrossed little of his attention during that week spent in the Milburn residence. He had builded well, and the dedication, as it were, of his noble edifice of national policy, in which all culminated, was in the memorable speech of the day preceding the fateful Friday. Several times during his last days he smiled upon being complimented for that truly great oration, but he did not live to learn how thoroughly it was appreciated throughout the length and breadth of the land.
Dr. Charles McBurney, the eminent New York specialist, was summoned to Buffalo the evening of the shooting. He did not arrive until Sunday morning, however.
The President passed the first night after the shooting fairly comfortably. His temperature increased from 100° to 100.6° between 1 and 3 a. m., and fears were entertained that peritonitis might set in. The doctors chosen to care for the case—P. M. Rixey, M. B. Mann, Roswell Park, H. Mynter and Eugene Wasdin—were in attendance at the President’s bedside all night, watching carefully each symptom.
At 10:40 p. m. the doctors issued this bulletin: “The President is rallying satisfactorily and is resting comfortably. Temperature, 100.4°; pulse, 124; respiration, 24.”
At 1:30 a. m. the bulletin read: “The President is free from pain and resting well. Temperature, 100.2°; pulse, 120; respiration, 24.”
Saturday, the day following the shooting, was one of grave anxiety. The President, while holding his own, was approaching, so the doctors said, a crisis. It was thought that Sunday would decide what effect the shots fired by Czolgosz would be. Dr. Rixey gave it as his opinion that the President would recover. The other physicians refused to commit themselves, saying that they could not make promises until further developments.
An X-ray apparatus was brought from Thomas A. Edison’s laboratory with which it was intended to locate the bullet which lodged in the back. It was not used. On Sunday morning at 5 o’clock the physicians issued this bulletin: “The President has passed a fairly good night. Pulse, 122; temperature, 102.4°; respiration, 24.”
Sunday proved a rather uneventful day after all. The anticipated crisis did not materialize. The news was good throughout the day. It was not merely negative good news, but news of a distinct improvement. The President’s temperature on Sunday evening was a degree lower than it was during the morning, the pulse was slower and the respiration easier.
Dr. McBurney arrived during the day and held a consultation with the other doctors at 3 o’clock Sunday afternoon.
Immediately following the consultation this bulletin was issued: “The President since the last bulletin (3 p. m.) has slept quietly, four hours altogether, since 9 o’clock. His condition is satisfactory to all the physicians present. Pulse, 128; temperature, 101°; respiration, 28.” This bulletin was signed by Drs. Rixey, Mann, Park, Mynter, Wasdin and McBurney.
DR. McBURNEY’S STATEMENT.
Later Dr. McBurney said in an interview:
“The fact that there is no unfavorable symptom is a most favorable sign. What we are all waiting for is the lapse of time without the occurrence of inflammation or septic conditions.
“I want to say right here that in my opinion everything has been done for him that could and should have been done. The case has been most handsomely handled. If he lives he will owe his life to the promptness and skill of the physicians here.
“The question of time is of the greatest importance in a case of this kind. An operation could not have been performed too soon. It was performed in one of the quickest times on record. It will be famous in the history of surgery.”
This report from so eminent a surgeon served to allay all doubts, and the reports sent out from Buffalo cheered millions of Americans, who had spent a sorrowing Sunday. Prayers had gone up for the President from thousands of hearts and their invocations seemed to be answered by a divine Providence.
Telegrams of sympathy and condolence were changed to congratulations over the good tidings. Hopes rose high, and the somber spirits which had pervaded the land for three days changed to those of a brighter hue. Intimate friends were permitted to see the President for a few moments at a time, and each one on leaving the Milburn home brought cheering news. The bulletins were optimistic, and the members of the Cabinet who had been hastily summoned began to discuss returning.
Vice-President Roosevelt had hurried to Buffalo from Vermont. Senator Hanna had come from Cleveland, his home, and Abner McKinley sped from Denver, with Dr. and Mrs. Herman Baer, the latter being the favorite niece of the stricken President. Roosevelt soon departed for the Adirondack regions on a hunting trip. Hanna returned to Cleveland and hopes ran high, for the departure of these men was taken as proof positive that no serious results were apprehended by the corps of physicians.
The President improved so rapidly on Monday that his friends declared he would be able to attend the duties of his office, at least to a moderate extent, within a month. The worst danger was regarded as past, peritonitis seemed no longer probable, and the only cause for fear was the possibility of a sinking spell. The X-ray instrument was still in the house, but had not been used. It was decided by the doctors that so long as the bullet did not prove immediately dangerous,