Chapter XIII: Shot Down (4)

“12:30 P. M.—The President has continued this morning to retain
liquid nourishment taken by the mouth as well as by enema. There has
been no recurrence of the vomiting and no nausea. Pulse, 104;
temperature, 98.4; respiration, 18.

“6:30 P. M.—The President has continued to take nourishment in small
quantities at stated intervals during the entire day, and has had no
return of nausea or vomiting. The nutrient enemata are also
retained. Pulse, 110; temperature, 100.1; respiration, 19.”

_The fifty-third day._—How is the President this morning? The President had made a gain. Of a certainty, he was not any further in the shadow of the valley than on yesterday. He had taken in all, since the morning before, about thirty ounces of liquid food without disturbing his stomach. Several times he called for food himself. One of the physicians said during the day that the President had taken more than sufficient food to repair the day’s waste. At one time his pulse was down to ninety-six—the lowest point it had reached for more than a fortnight. Secretary Blaine—in whose dispatches the people had learned to place the highest reliance—expressed himself somewhat more hopefully to Minister Lowell, in the night message, which read as follows:

“LOWELL, _Minister_, _London_:

“The President’s condition is more encouraging than it was at this
time last night. During the last twenty-four hours he has swallowed
ten ounces of extract of beef and eighteen ounces of milk, retaining
and digesting both. He has twice asked for food, which he has not
done before for several days. Pulse and temperature are both
somewhat lower. The swelling of the parotid gland has not specially
changed. Its long continuance at the present stage increases the
fear of suppuration. At this hour—11 o’clock—the physicians report
that the President has rested quietly the entire evening.

BLAINE, _Secretary_.”

Anxious concern about the President’s condition on the part of the public was tempered with so much hopefulness that the evidences of excitement somewhat abated. The street gatherings about the bulletin-boards in the principal cities were not so large as they had been, although the three official bulletins from the physicians and Secretary Blaine’s message to Minister Lowell were eagerly waited for and much talked of in public places. These bulletins were, in the usual form, as follows:

“8:30 A. M.—The President slept the greater part of the night, but
awoke at frequent intervals. He has taken since last evening a
larger quantity of liquid food by the mouth than in the
corresponding hours of any day during the past week. The use of
nutrient enemata is continued at longer intervals. Pulse, 100;
temperature, 98.4; respiration, 18.

“12:30 P. M.—The President continues to take by the mouth and retain
an increased quantity of liquid food. At the morning dressing the
wound looked well and the pus was of a healthy character. The mucus
accumulations in the back of the mouth are less viscid. At present
his pulse is 104; temperature, 98.9; respiration, 18.

“6:30 P. M.—The President has continued to take liquid food by the
mouth at regular intervals during the day, and has had no recurrence
of gastric disorder. Pulse, 104; temperature, 99.2; respiration,
19.”

_The fifty-fourth day._—The events of the day were two: First, the lancing of the inflamed gland—an operation but partially successful in its results; secondly, a consultation of the surgeons in regard to removing the President from the White House. Dr. Agnew was summoned to the city by telegram. He was driven at once to the Executive Mansion, where the cabinet and medical council were in consultation, and remained closeted with them until nearly midnight. The consultation lasted rather more than an hour; and, so far as could be ascertained, it resulted in a disagreement. All of the participating surgeons who could be seen refused to talk upon the subject, as did also the members of the Cabinet, most of whom were at the White House until after eleven o’clock.

A third circumstance of the day’s history was the reported delirium of the President. This was for awhile concealed, and then palliated by those nearest the bedside. Colonel Rockwell, one of the attendants, in conversation with a reporter, described the mental disturbance thus: “The President is sometimes a little incoherent for a moment after he awakes and before he fully gets control of his senses, just as any body would be in his weak and debilitated condition and after seven weeks of fever; but at all other times his mind is as clear as ever.”

The dispatch of Secretary Blaine was very much less hopeful than the one of the night before. It read as follows:

“LOWELL, _Minister_, _London_:

“The President has not gained to-day. He has had a higher fever,
which began earlier than is usual with his febrile rise. In the
afternoon an incision was made in the swollen parotid gland by Dr.
Hamilton. The flow of pus therefrom was small. The one favorable
symptom of his swallowing liquid food with apparent relish and
digestion has continued, but the general feeling up to midnight is
one of increased anxiety.

“BLAINE, _Secretary_.”

To this might well be added the additional hopeful circumstance that during the day the President’s assimilative powers appeared to be again in such condition as to warrant the physicians in dispensing with the system of artificial alimentation. The regular bulletins for the day were as follows:

“8:30 A. M.—The President has passed a very good night, awaking at
longer intervals than during several nights past. He continues to
take liquid food by the mouth with more relish, and in such quantity
that the enemata will be suspended for the present. No change has
yet been observed in the parotid swelling. The other symptoms are
quite as favorable as yesterday. Pulse, 100; temperature, 98.5;
respiration, 17.

“12:30 P. M.—The President continues to take liquid food by the
mouth as reported in the last bulletin. His temperature has risen
slightly since that time. In other respects his condition is about
the same. Pulse, 104; temperature, 99.2; respiration, 17.

“6:30 P. M.—Shortly after the noon bulletin was issued an incision
was made into the swelling on the right side of the President’s face
for the purpose of relieving the tension of the swollen parotid
gland, and of giving vent to pus, a small quantity of which was
evacuated. He has taken a larger quantity of liquid food by the
mouth to-day than yesterday, and has been entirely free from nausea.
Pulse, 108; temperature, 100.7; respiration, 19.”

_The fifty-fifth day._—The first report of the morning indicated that there was no more than a bare possibility of President Garfield’s recovery. His condition was such as to cause the gravest apprehensions as to the immediate result. He continued to take food, but there was no perceptible increase in strength. His condition—with his wasted form, distorted and half-paralyzed face, dreadful wound, and suppurating gland—was pitiable in the last degree. Hallucinations came on, and he talked incoherently—now of his immediate surroundings, and now of his old home at Mentor. There was little remaining for the surgeons to do. Their effort for the time was directed chiefly to the alleviation of the inflamed gland, which was now playing havoc with the few springs of vitality yet remaining as a source of hope. The whole gland was found to be infiltrated with pus, and the outlook, even for the night, was grave in the extreme. The physicians’ bulletins, four in number to-day, were published, as usual, and presented to the anxious country several points of interest:

“8:30 A. M.—The President slept most of the night. He has taken
liquid food by the mouth at stated intervals and in sufficient
quantity, so that the enemata have not been renewed. No modification
of the parotid swelling has yet been observed. Pulse, 106;
temperature, 98.5; respiration, 18.

“9:15 A. M.—The subject of the removal of the President from
Washington at the present time was earnestly considered by us last
night and again this morning. After mature deliberation the
conclusion was arrived at by the majority that it would not be
prudent, although all agree that it will be very desirable at the
earliest time at which his condition may warrant it.

“12:30 P. M.—Since the issue of this morning’s bulletin a rise in
the President’s temperature similar to that which occurred yesterday
morning has been observed. Pulse, 112; temperature, 99.2;
respiration, 19.

“6:30 P. M.—There has been little change in the President’s
condition since the noon bulletin was issued. The frequency of his
pulse is now the same as then. His temperature has risen somewhat,
but it is not so high as yesterday evening. No unfavorable change
has been observed in the condition of the wound. He has taken by the
mouth a sufficient supply of liquid food. Pulse, 112; temperature,
99.8; respiration, 19.”

_The fifty-sixth day._—The morning papers were almost exclusively devoted to the President and the prospect of death. The great New York dailies presented page after page of dispatches, interviews, and discussions. The sum of it all was this: The President was alive, but, in all probability, on the verge of death. His pulse rose to a mere flutter. The abscess in the gland burst into the cavity of the ear. His mind still wandered, but there was slightly less aberration than yesterday. Washington was a strange scene. There was suppressed excitement, but no noise. Little knots of people gathered in groups here and there before the bulletin-boards, where the latest intelligence was posted, while negro newsboys in their picturesque costumes cried their extras in the mellow Southern accent peculiar to their race. The intense August sun poured down his rays on the broad streets and asphaltum boulevards. The trees were browned with the dust and heat, and the patches of grass here and there in the yards and parks were withered into hay. Above it all, gleaming white and silent, rose the great dome of the Capitol. Alas, what was it all to _him_?

There was in the midst of infinite rumors and conjectures only a modicum of news. It was this: the President could still take food. His mind had cleared a little since yesterday. As for the rest, he lay helpless, ready to die. The bulletins said:

“8:30 A. M.—The President slept most of the night, awaking at
intervals of half an hour to an hour. On first awaking there was, as
there has been for several nights past, some mental confusion, which
disappeared when he was fully roused, and occasionally he muttered
in his sleep. These symptoms have abated this morning, as on
previous days. His temperature is slightly above the normal and his
pulse a little more frequent than yesterday morning. Pulse, 108;
temperature, 99.1; respiration, 17.

“12:30 P. M.—His pulse and temperature are at present higher than at
the corresponding hour for some days. He continues to take by the
mouth the liquid food prescribed; nevertheless, we regard his
condition as critical. Pulse, 118; temperature, 100; respiration,
18.”

“6:30 P. M.—The President’s condition has not changed materially
since the last bulletin was issued. He continues to take, by the
mouth, the liquid food prescribed, and occasionally asks for it.
Since yesterday forenoon, commencing at 11:30 A. M., the enemata
have again been given at regular intervals, as a means of
administering stimulants, as well as nutrition. They are retained
without trouble. Pulse, 116; temperature, 99.9; respiration, 18.”

_The fifty-seventh day._—Another long day of suspense. It was the peculiarity of President Garfield’s illness that just as some great crisis came and his constitutional forces seemed to break hopelessly, at some other point there would be a rally. In this last case, when the distressing abscess in the parotid gland had added its aggravating horrors to horrors already accumulated, and just as tired nature seemed sinking to everlasting rest, there was a rally in the assimilative powers. Unexpectedly, the stomach began to perform its work; and thus the tree of life, shaken back and forth by conflicting forces, still rose feebly and stood. It was a melancholy sight to see this enfeebled and wasted life, so dear to the Nation, still standing, with its glorious foliage torn away—withered, blighted, dying.

The Queen on this day again expressed her great anxiety about the President. Her dispatch, and Mr. Blaine’s answer, were as follows:

“LONDON, Aug. 27.

“BLAINE, _Secretary, Washington_:

“I have just received from Her Majesty the Queen, at Balmoral, a
telegram in these words: ‘I am most deeply grieved at the sad news
of the last few days, and would wish my deep sympathy to be conveyed
to Mrs. Garfield.’

LOWELL, Minister.”

“WASHINGTON, Aug. 27.

“LOWELL, _Minister_, _London_:

“I have submitted to Mrs. Garfield your telegram conveying the
kindly message from Her Majesty the Queen. Mrs. Garfield is
constantly by her husband’s bedside and does not give up all hope of
his recovery. Her request is that you will return to the Queen her
most sincere thanks, and express her heartfelt appreciation of the
constant interest and tender sympathy shown by Her Majesty toward
the President and his family in their deep grief and most painful
suspense.

BLAINE, Secretary.”

The Americans, in a political point of view, do not like kings and queens; but it will be many a long year before the womanly greatness and tenderness of Victoria, manifested in our hour of sorrow, will be obliterated from the American heart. _Vivat semper Regina!_

The daily bulletins of the surgeons told all that could be known of the beloved President:

“8:30 A. M.—The President slept from half an hour to an hour or more
at a time throughout the night. He continues to retain the liquid
food administered by the mouth and the stimulating enemata.
Nevertheless, his pulse has been more frequent since midnight and he
is evidently feebler this morning than yesterday. Pulse, 120;
temperature, 98.4; respiration, 22.

“12:30 P. M.—There has been no improvement in the President’s
condition since the last bulletin was issued. He continues to retain
the liquid food administered by the mouth as well as the enemata. At
present the pulse is 120; temperature, 99.6; respiration, 22.

“6:30 P. M.—The President’s symptoms show slight amelioration this
afternoon. His pulse is somewhat less frequent and his temperature
lower. The liquid food given by the mouth and the enemata continues
to be retained. Pulse, 114; temperature, 98.9; respiration, 22.”

_The fifty-eighth day._—The reports of the morning were briefer. They were also more encouraging. It was clear that the President, notwithstanding his desperate condition, had held his own for thirty-eight hours, and that there were some unmistakable signs of improvement. It could not be said with truth that the change was great or marked, but there had been some amelioration. The shadow of death was lifted, at least for a day. The people, quick to run to extremes, gave a sigh of relief at the more cheering reports of the morning, and went whither they listed. It was said that the President had had another relapse and was now better again. Even the cautious Secretary of State was impressed with the belief that the President’s improvement was more than a temporary rally. In his foreign dispatch he summed up the case thus:

“_To_ LOWELL, _Minister_, _London_:

“The condition of the President at 10 o’clock continues as favorable
as could be expected. Within the past thirty hours his improvement
has given great encouragement to the attending surgeons. He swallows
an adequate supply of liquid food; the parotid swelling discharges
freely, and gives promise of marked improvement. His mind is
perfectly clear. He has, perhaps, a little more fever than was
anticipated, and his respiration is somewhat above normal. The
general feeling is one of hopefulness. Two or three days more of
improvement will be needed to inspire confidence.

BLAINE, Secretary.”

The monotonous official reports were telegraphed as usual, in the following messages:

“8:30 A. M.—The amelioration of the President’s symptoms announced
in last evening’s bulletin continued during the night. Since
midnight some further improvement has been observed, the pulse
diminishing in frequency. The stomach has continued to retain liquid
nourishment administered, and last evening he asked for and ate a
small quantity of milk toast. Stimulating and nutrient enemata
continue to be retained. Pulse, 100; temperature, 98.4; respiration,
17.

“12:30 P. M.—At the morning dressing of the President several
yellowish points were observed just below the ear over the swollen
parotid, and an incision being made, about a teaspoonful of
healthy-looking pus escaped. Pulse, 104; temperature, 99.5;
respiration, 18.

“7:30 P. M.—The improvement in the President’s condition, declared
yesterday afternoon, is still maintained. He continues to take
willingly the liquid food given by the mouth, and is apparently
digesting it. The stimulants and nutrients given by enema are also
retained. At the evening dressing an increased quantity of
healthy-looking pus was discharged from the suppurating parotid. But
little rise in temperature or pulse has taken place since noon.
Pulse, 110; temperature, 99.7; respiration, 20.”

_The fifty-ninth day._—More than eight weeks had now elapsed since the President was shot. The country had become used to alarms. It had also learned to make allowance for the shortcomings of newspaper reports, born of the heat of an oversanguine imagination. It had learned, too, the more valuable lesson that the Government of the United States is not to be shaken from its pedestal by the bullet of an assassin. Guiteau was a fool. Perhaps the despicable wretch thought the course of events, sweeping on like the planets, could be changed by the crack of a pistol. He might as well have fired into the air. The glorious institutions of the Republic will perish when Americans are no longer fit to be free; but until then the assassin’s rage and frenzy is the most futile folly of the world. All the officers of the United States may be murdered in a day, but the Nation will stand immovable as adamant. Let the assassin foam and gnash upon the iron bars of the cage of fate! It is only a mad-dog gnawing his chain.

The President, they said, was better. Thoughtful men doubted it. As a matter of fact, the judgment of the country had given him up to die. Sentiment still kept him alive; reason said that the time of the fatal foreclosure was near at hand. It could be said, truthfully, that the local symptoms traceable to the abscess in the President’s face had measurably abated. It could also be said that he was still able to receive food enough to sustain life—nothing more. Mr. Blaine’s dispatch for the evening was, however, rather hopeful than desponding. It said:

“DEPARTMENT OF STATE, August 29, 10:30 P. M.

“LOWELL, _Minister_, _London_:

“At half-past ten to-night the general condition of the President is
favorable. Late in the afternoon his pulse rose to 112 and his
temperature to 100, both a little higher than the surgeons expected.
Pulse has now fallen to 108, and fever is subsiding. The parotid
swelling is steadily improving, and is at last diminishing in size.
Apprehensions of serious blood poisoning grow less every hour.

BLAINE, Secretary.”

These dispatches of the Secretary were generally but the pith of what the surgeons said in their official reports. These, for August 29th, were as follows:

“8:30 A. M.—The President’s symptoms this morning are as favorable
as yesterday at the same hour. He slept, awakening at intervals, the
greater part of the night. At these intervals he took and retained
the liquid nourishment administered. His mind continues perfectly
clear. Pulse, 100; temperature, 98.5; respiration, 17. 12:30 P.
M.—Nothing new has been observed in the condition of the wound. The
usual daily rise of temperature has not yet occurred, and the
general condition has not materially changed since morning. Pulse,
106; temperature, 98.6; respiration, 18. 6:30 P. M.—The daily rise
of the President’s temperature began later this afternoon than
yesterday, but rose eight-tenths of a degree higher. The frequency
of his pulse is now the same as at this hour yesterday. He has taken
willingly the liquid food prescribed during the day, and had,
besides, during the morning, a small piece of milk toast. At the
evening dressing a pretty free discharge of healthy pus took place
from the parotid swelling, which is perceptibly diminishing in size.
The wound manifests no material change. Pulse, 110; temperature,
100.5; respiration, 18.”

_The sixtieth day._—The President still held out. All the world knows the story, how, day after day, owing to the native robustness and essential soundness of his constitution, he stood out against the death that awaited. As usual there were some who said he was better. Others said he was not. Once for all it may be said that such contradictions regarding the President’s condition can easily be accounted for when the surroundings of the White House are considered. Only a few persons knew of their own observation how he appeared from day to day. Visitors were strictly, and necessarily, excluded from the sick-room. From the Tuesday after General Garfield was shot, not more than ten persons in all, excluding the physicians, had seen him, and, of these ten, some only once or twice. Mrs. Garfield and her children, Mr. Blaine, General D. G. Swaim, Colonel A. F. Rockwell, Dr. Boynton, Dr. Susan Edson,—one of the nurses,—the President’s private secretary, Mr. J. S. Brown, and Mr. Pruden, completed the list. Mr. Blaine had seen him once, Mr. Pruden once, and Mr. Brown had been in five times, being usually called because the force of persons necessary to lift the President was a little short. Indeed, of all the strange impressions to be got from this novel event, there was none more peculiar than to stand in the private secretary’s room in the second story of the White House, and feel that only a few yards away was the sick-room on which the eyes of the world were centered, and yet that not more than three persons besides the physicians, nurses, and family, have passed the door in two months! It can thus be easily seen how correspondents and reporters were generally at sea, particularly when the physicians were reticent or out of sight. Mr. Blaine continued to express all that could be reasonably said of better prospects. His dispatch was as follows:

“_To_ LOWELL, _Minister_, _London_:

“The President, if not rapidly advancing, is at least holding his
own. His fever is less than last night, and his swollen gland
steadily improves. His pulse continues rather high, running this
evening from 110 to 114. Perhaps the best indication in the case is,
that the President himself feels better, and his mind, being now
perfectly clear, he readily compares one day’s progress with
another.

BLAINE, Secretary.”

The regular bulletins of the day were fuller if not more explicit:

“8:30 A. M.—The President slept the greater part of the night,
awakening at intervals, and retaining the liquid nourishment
administered. His general condition this morning is about the same
as at the same hour yesterday. Pulse, 102; temperature, 98.5;
respiration, 18. 12:30 P. M.—At the morning dressing another small
incision was made in the lower part of the swelling on the right
side of the President’s face, which was followed by a free discharge
of healthy-looking pus. A similar discharge took place through the
openings. The swelling is perceptibly smaller, and looks better. The
wound remains in an unchanged condition. Pulse, 116; temperature,
98.9; respiration, 18. 6:30 P. M.—The President has passed
comfortably through the day. He has taken the usual amount of
nourishment by the mouth, with stimulating enemata at stated
periods. Pulse, 109; temperature, 99.5; respiration, 18.”

_The sixty-first day._—In these stages of the President’s illness neither the optimist nor the pessimist newspapers were to be trusted in their accounts of the sick man and his surroundings. Even the dry records of the surgeons’ reports were so many bones of contention among the wranglers, some of whom would have the President well while others would have him dead. The optimists on this last day of August head-lined their reports: “On the high road to recovery;” “Still better;” “Almost out of the woods,” etc.; while the pessimist said: “The valley and the shadow;” “The end at hand,” etc. Unfortunately the pessimist—not from any virtue in himself—was the truer prophet. It could not be denied, however, that in some material points the President had improved with some steadiness for several days. These favorable points, rather than the dark ones, were dwelt on in the official reports, which presented the summary of symptoms for the day:

“8:30 A. M.—The President has passed a tranquil night, and this
morning his condition is quite as favorable as yesterday at the same
hour. Pulse, 100; temperature, 98.4; respiration, 18. 12:30 P. M.—At
the dressing of the President this morning the parotid swelling was
found to be discharging freely. It looked well and has materially
diminished in size. The wound remains in about the same state. His
general condition is evidently more favorable than at this hour
yesterday. Pulse, 95; temperature, 98.4; respiration, 17. 6:30 P.
M.—The President has passed a better day than for some time past. He
has taken his food with increased relish, and the usual afternoon
rise of temperature did not occur. Pulse, 109; temperature, 98.6;
respiration, 18.”

_The sixty-second day._—The fall month dawned with little additional news. The little that was presented was not good. The luxuriance of the scribes who had written up and written down almost every circumstance and symptom were about this time clipt of some of their superfluity. The public had grown stern and angered at being trifled with on so grave a matter as the condition of a dying President. A few manufactured conversations were still published, but the amount of space so devoted in the journals of the day showed a pronounced shrinkage. Mr. Blaine’s dispatches, always honest and sincere, were more than hitherto sought after as giving the hungry and heart-sore people the most authentic information concerning their stricken Chief Magistrate. The Secretary’s telegram for the evening was as follows:

“_To_ LOWELL, _Minister_, _London_:

“The President continues to do well in his eating and digestion, and
the swollen gland steadily improves, but in the past twenty-four
hours he has made no substantial progress in his general condition.
In the judgment of his physicians, however, he still holds the
ground gained on Sunday and Monday last. His pulse and temperature
to-day have shown marked increase over the record of yesterday. The
weather has been exceedingly warm and sultry, and this may account
in part for the adverse changes noted. Even in the September climate
of Washington such an oppressive day as this has been is rare.

“BLAINE, Secretary.”

The views of the surgeons were presented as usual in their official bulletins:

“8:30 A. M.—Toward nine o’clock last evening the President had some
feverishness, and his pulse ranged from 108 to 116. He had on the
whole a good night, and his condition is fully as favorable as
yesterday at the same hour. Pulse, 100; temperature, 98.4;
respiration, 17. 12:30 P. M.—At the morning dressing of the
President the abscess of the parotid was found to be discharging
freely. It looks well and continues to diminish in size. The state
of the wound remains the same. His general condition is not
materially different from what it was at this hour yesterday. Pulse,
108; temperature, 98; respiration, 18. 6:30 P. M.—The condition of
the President has not materially changed since the last bulletin,
except that there has been a moderate rise of temperature this
afternoon. The President has had no rigors for several weeks. Pulse,
108; temperature, 99.4; respiration, 18.”

_The sixty-third day._—It was said, in the dispatches of the morning, that the President had still further improved, and that he was now better than at any time since the setting in of the parotid inflammation. Perhaps he was. There was no doubt that for some days he had held his own. The question of the day, however, was the revival of the project to remove the sufferer from Washington. This proposition had been previously voted down in a consultation of the physicians and the members of the cabinet. But since then things were changed. Doubtless the surgeons were now convinced that, remaining where he was, the President must inevitably die in a very short time. To this should also be added the persistent entreaties of General Garfield himself, who never forbore, on proper occasions, to urge upon those who were in responsible charge of his case, his earnest wish to be taken away from the scenes of his glory and grief. By the 2d of September it was understood that the minds of the physicians were about made up to attempt the hazardous enterprise. It was known also that the Pennsylvania Railway had already prepared a special train with a view to readiness in case the removal should be finally decided on. The train even now stood in readiness.

A publication in the London _Lancet_, for the current week, was perused with great interest by thousands of professional and unprofessional readers. Some encouragement was gleaned from the excerpt, which was as follows:

“We do not think the healing of President Garfield’s wound will be
promoted by probing to learn how far granulation has proceeded. The
most favorable signs are the fall of temperature to the normal, and
the frequency of the pulse. This is a thoroughly safe criterion of
increased strength and the subsidence of blood poisoning; and,
together with the improved power of digestion, ability to sleep
soundly, mental clearness and cheerfulness, affords solid grounds
for the hope of recovery.

“The case is a striking illustration of the power of a good
constitution to hold up against illness that would certainly have
killed a feebler person; but another failure in the President’s
digestive powers, or symptoms of blood poisoning, might at any time
turn the balance against him; and what we have hitherto insisted
upon so often we are bound to repeat, that President Garfield will
not be out of danger until the wound is healed.”

The usual bulletins, from the surgeons in charge, were published thus:

“8:30 A. M.—The President slept well during the night, and this
morning his condition is in all respects as favorable as yesterday
at the same hour. Pulse, 100; temperature, 98.4; respiration, 17.
12:30 P. M.—The President’s condition has not materially changed
since the morning bulletin was issued. Pulse, 108; temperature,
98.4; respiration, 18. 6:30 P. M.—The President has passed a
comfortable day, and this evening appears better than for some days
past. This evening his pulse is 104; temperature, 99.2; respiration,
18.”

_The sixty-fourth day._—The removal of the President was fully determined on. The surgeons were unanimous that it should be undertaken. Long Branch was settled upon as the resort to which the wounded man should be removed. The physicians were unanimous in their selection of this place, and all necessary precautions were taken to insure the President’s comfort during his removal. It was a perilous business, and for the remaining days of the sojourn at the White House the energies of those who were responsible for the President’s well-being were constantly engaged in making suitable arrangements for the removal. The account of the President’s progress for the day, notwithstanding his critical condition, was almost overlooked in the keen interest immediately excited by the project now imminent. The surgeons themselves were unusually brief in their official reports, which ran thus:

“8:30 A. M.—The President was somewhat more restless than usual
during the early part of the night, but slept better after one A. M.
There is a slight increase in the frequency of the pulse. Pulse,
104; temperature, 98.6; respiration, 18. 12:30 P. M.—The Presidents
condition has not materially changed since the morning bulletin was
issued. Pulse, 104; temperature, 98.4; respiration, 18. 6:30 P.
M.—The President has done well during the day, and has taken with
some relish a sufficient quantity of nutriment. Altogether, his
general condition exhibits some improvement over yesterday. Pulse,
102; temperature, 99.6; respiration, 18.”

_The sixty-fifth day._—The President himself was somewhat excited about his removal. In some respects this excitement was beneficial and in others hurtful to him. His spirits and hopes were in some measure aroused, and a stimulus thus afforded to his exhausted powers. But the energy thus awakened was withdrawn from the long enfeebled stomach, and twice during the day his food was rejected. Otherwise, there were no alarming symptoms for the passing hour, and so public attention was wholly turned to the preparation. President Roberts, of the Pennsylvania Railroad, commissioned George C. Wilkins, general superintendent of the Baltimore and Potomac Railroad, to take direction of the train which was to carry the President away. Mr. Wilkins was also directed to issue orders to his men, which would enable him to stop every freight and passenger train that might be on the road between Baltimore and Washington on half an hour’s notice, and to give the special train the right of way at any hour of the day or night. On the 4th of September, Mr. Wilkins accordingly issued orders to carry out the following arrangement: When the day and hour of departure of the train is known, he should be informed, and a message would be sent along the entire road, stopping all freight trains that might be on the road. Passenger conductors would at each station receive an order either to stop or proceed to the next station, where the subsequent movements of their trains must be governed by the orders there awaiting them. In this way, which is, in fact, the “blocking” system in force on many roads, the movements of all trains would be controlled from the Union Depot, and they would be so handled as to give the special train the right of way and at the same time prevent the “regulars” while in motion from passing the special. This was done to prevent the President being disturbed by any jarring or disagreeable noise.

No stops were to be made at any of the stations between Baltimore and Washington; but should it be necessary to rest the nerves of the patient, the special train was to be halted in the open country, where fresh air and the absence of noise and crowds would be insured. Immediately on hearing of the appointed hour, Mr. Wilkins was to leave Baltimore for Washington in a special car, and come over to Baltimore with the President’s train. This train was to be run around the city to Bayview, where William Crawford was to take charge of it and convey it to Philadelphia. His arrangements were like those of Mr. Wilkins. An engine of the New York division of the Pennsylvania road, and two Pullman palace cars, which were in part to compose the train, arrived at Baltimore on the 4th, and became subject to the orders of Colonel Wilkins whenever needed.

The reports of the surgeons contained about the only authentic account of the President’s condition during the day. These were as follows:

“8:30 A. M.—The President vomited once last evening and once about
an hour after midnight. Notwithstanding this disturbance, he slept
well most of the night, and this morning has taken food by the mouth
without nausea, and has retained it. His pulse is somewhat more
frequent, but in other respects his condition is about the same as
at this hour yesterday. Pulse, 108; temperature, 98.4; respiration,
18. 12:30 P. M.—The President’s condition has not changed materially
since the last bulletin was issued, and there has been no further
gastric disturbance. Pulse, 106; temperature, 98.4; respiration, 18.
6:30 P. M.—The President has passed a comfortable day. He has taken
his food with some relish, and had no return of the irritability of
stomach reported in the morning’s bulletin. The parotid swelling
continues to improve. The wound shows no material change. The rise
of temperature this afternoon has been very slight, but his pulse
was more frequent, and he showed more fatigue after the dressings.
Pulse, 110; temperature, 99; respiration, 18.”

_The sixty-sixth day._—It is the last day in Washington! Again the President is almost forgotten in the hustle of preparation. Mr. Francklyn, owner of one of the finest cottages at Elberon, Long Branch, has tendered it as a home for the wounded Chief Magistrate, and Colonel Rockwell has accepted the offer with thanks. So it is thither we are going on the last of our earthly pilgrimages. Every thing is ready for the departure, and it is set for to-morrow morning at six. A retinue of strong men has been appointed to carry the President down stairs to a wagon specially arranged to convey him to the depot. The day is hot; the air like a furnace. Down at Elberon there is a weird scene to-night. Three hundred skilled engineers and workmen—a loyal company of sturdy patriots—are laying a temporary track to connect the main line with the cottages on the beach. To perform this work laborers have been gathered together; a supply of ties and rails lie waiting the strong hands that are to fling them into place. The length of the new track is 3,200 feet. It is to be laid directly to the hotel grounds, describing a curve to the very door of Francklyn cottage, from whose windows we shall once more look upon the sea. Crowds of men and women, gathered from the various hotels, stand witnessing the scene. Anon the clouds gather. Headlights are put in place to furnish illumination. At intervals the workmen are served with refreshments from the Elberon. All night long the work goes bravely on, and ere the dawn of morning the track is completed over which the suffering President is to take his last journey in the land of the living. And now, while the shadows steal across the landscape in this sultry September evening, let us once more stand before these now familiar bulletin boards and read:

“8:30 A. M.—The President was somewhat restless during the early
part of the night, but slept well after midnight. He has taken by
the mouth and retained the nutriment prescribed. This morning his
pulse is less frequent than yesterday. Pulse, 102; temperature,
99.5; respiration, 18. 12:30 P. M.—Pulse, 114; temperature, 99.5;
respiration, 18. 6:30 P. M.—No material change has taken place in
the condition of the President since morning. The parotid abscess
continues to improve, and the wound remains about the same. Pulse,
108; temperature, 99.8; respiration, 18. Should no untoward symptoms
prevent, it is hoped to move the President to Long Branch
to-morrow.”

And here is the faithful Mr. Blaine’s dispatch to Minister Lowell, in London:

“_To_ LOWELL, _Minister_, _London_:

“This has been the hottest day of the season, and the heat has told
upon the President. His pulse and temperature have been higher than
for several days past. In other respects there has been no special
change, either favorable or adverse. It is expected that he will be
removed to Long Branch to-morrow. It is hoped that the sea air will
strengthen him.

BLAINE, Secretary.”

Can the journey be made with safety? The morrow will tell the tale. Here in the twilight of that last day in Washington, as the hum of preparation settles to a calm, and as our eyes turn toward him whom we have followed so long in his heroic struggle, doubting yet hoping, we may well say with the London _Punch_:

So fit to die! With courage calm
Armed to confront the threatening dart.
Better than skill is such high heart
And helpfuller than healing balm.

So fit to live! With power cool
Equipped to fill his function great,
To crush the knaves who shame the State,
Place-seeking pests of honest rule.

Equal to either fate he’ll prove.
May Heaven’s high will incline the scale.
The way our prayers would fain avail
To weight it—to long life and love!