Complete Life of William McKinley and Story of His Assassination. Everett Marshall

Cortelyou told them that it was the President’s own desire that none of the features of the Exposition should be disturbed by his illness, and assured them that there would not be the slightest impropriety in going ahead with the arrangements. Such was the confidence displayed forty-eight hours before McKinley’s death.

      The physicians announced that there was no intention of hurrying Mr. McKinley away from Buffalo, which city is much cooler than either Canton or Washington, and the home of the President of the Buffalo Exposition is a first-class modern residence, admirably equipped for taking care of the patient. It is in a residence part of town, and by utilizing the police and the infantry had been completely isolated.

      It was Mrs. McKinley’s wish that they remain at Buffalo until the President had recovered and then spend a month at the home at Canton in final recuperation, after which they were to proceed to Washington. The President favored going to Washington and the Cabinet officers favored this plan. There was no pressing public business, but the routine duties are numerous. Plans were under preparation for the journey to Washington when the distinguished patient began to show signs of a relapse.

      It was on Thursday, just six days after the shooting, that the President suffered a relapse. Everybody was still full of hopes until 8:30 o’clock in the evening, when the physicians announced officially that the President’s condition was not so good. The problem of disposing of the food in the stomach was becoming a serious one, and the danger of heart failure increased. At midnight the situation was critical. Calomel and oil were given to flush the bowels and digitalis to quiet the heart. The bowels moved soon afterwards, and the patient improved. The pulse dropped to 120, and the prospect was regarded as brighter.

      Secretary Cortelyou announced that there would be no more bulletins during the night, and the physicians departed.

      Shortly after two o’clock, after a heavy thunderstorm, the physicians and nurses who were left on watch detected a weakening of the heart action. The pulse fluttered and weakened and the President sank toward a collapse. The end appeared at hand. Restoratives were applied speedily, but they did not at once prove effective. It was then decided to send for the other physicians, relatives, members of the Cabinet, and close personal friends of the President.

      Trouble began on Thursday afternoon through the failure of the digestive organs to perform their functions. The necessity for nourishment had been pressing for several days, and the partial failure of artificial means had led to the adoption of natural means. The rectum, through which nourishment had been injected previously to Wednesday, became irritated and rejected the enemas.

      PRESIDENT McKINLEY FALLING INTO ARMS OF CORTELYOU, SAYING: “AM I SHOT?”

      PRESIDENT McKINLEY BEING PUT IN THE AMBULANCE AFTER BEING SHOT.

      The physicians tried to feed him through the mouth, probably before the stomach was prepared. The first administration of beef juice through the mouth, however, seemed to agree with the patient, and the physicians were highly gratified at the way the stomach seemed to receive the food.

      Dr. McBurney was especially jubilant over the action of the stomach and before his departure for New York dwelt upon the fact that the stomach seemed to have resumed its normal functions. The breakfast of chicken broth and toast given Thursday morning was spoken of by all the physicians as strong evidence of the President’s marked improvement. It was only when it became apparent late in the morning that this food had not agreed with the President that the first genuine anxiety appeared. The first note of alarm was sounded in the official bulletin Thursday afternoon, which spoke of the President’s fatigue.

      President McKinley, already weak from the ordeal of the tragedy and suffering, complained of an increasing feeling of fatigue. He had heretofore been so buoyant and cheerful that his complaints were regarded seriously. The pulse was then also abnormally high, 126 beats to the minute. With a temperature of 100.2° it should have been thirty beats lower.

      The weakness of the heart began to arouse serious concern. Instead of growing better, the President’s condition after that grew steadily worse.

      The staff of physicians, augmented by Dr. Stockton, who had temporarily taken the place of Dr. McBurney, was summoned early in the evening, and there was a conference.

      At 8:30 the physicians announced officially that the President’s condition was not so good. The problem of disposing of the food in the stomach was becoming a serious one and the danger of heart failure increased.

      It was believed then that the opening of the bowels, which was effected, would have the effect of allaying the wild pulsations of the heart. His pulse did drop to 120 and the prospect was slightly brighter. But owing to the President’s extreme weakness and his fatigue no attempt was made to conceal the serious apprehension which was felt. The feeling of depression increased in volume and intensity.

      Secretary Cortelyou insisted that the truth should be made public by the doctors and the bulletins themselves were telling their unfortunate story all too plainly. There was still hope that the worn and weary patient would be better in the morning, and at midnight Secretary Cortelyou said it was not probable that another bulletin would be issued until morning.

      Hope came once more to the breasts of those who had waited for hours in anxiety. The physicians parted for the night and every sign was a cheering one. There had been disquieting pulse action for several hours, but practically all of the unfavorable symptoms had been linked with the stomach trouble, and it was thought they would probably disappear with the removal of the cause which was supposed to have created them.

      The unofficial reports at one o’clock and 1:30 o’clock were both of a satisfactory nature and the watchers gathered about the house prepared for an uninterrupted night.

      Another thunderstorm came out of the north and a few minutes’ play of the lightning brought rain in a heavy downpour. A bluster wind blew up from the west to complete the cheerlessness of the night.

      Shortly after two o’clock the physicians and nurses detected a weakening of the heart action. The pulse fluttered and weakened and the President sank toward collapse. The end appeared to be at hand.

      Restoratives were speedily applied and the physicians fought the battle with all the reserve forces of science. Action was immediate and decisive. Digitalis and strychnia were administered, and as a last resort saline solution was injected into the veins.

      A general alarm went speeding to the consulting physicians and trained nurses as fast as messengers, the telegraph and telephone could carry it.

      The restoratives did not at once prove effective and it was realized that the President was in an extremely critical condition.

      That realization, with the shadow of death behind it, led to another call, and that a summons to the Cabinet, relatives and close personal friends of the President.

      The messengers who returned with the doctors and nurses were hurried off after those within reach, and to those who were absent from the city telegrams conveying the painful tidings were quickly transmitted.

      The scene about the house and in the storm-swept street was dramatic in its action and setting, and the spirit of the tragedy was on those who looked upon it. A messenger who darted into the rain and was whisked away in an electric cab gave the outside watchers the first intimation of the ill news from within.

      At the same moment new lights burned within the windows of the Milburn residence. Soon the word was passed out that the President had partly collapsed and was critically ill. It was a confirmation that was hardly needed, for the fact had been established by action that needed no words.

      Mrs. McKinley went through the long night of sorrow as only the thoroughbred woman does. She slept, but that she could have slept much was impossible. But no traces of the night’s agony showed as she turned her serene face upon early callers next morning.

      Mrs.