As yet no critical knowledge of the President’s injury had been reached. There was nothing on which the people could base a judgment of the relative probabilities of recovery and death. The shadows of evening gathered, and the darkness of night settled over fifty millions of sorrowing people.
The minds of all naturally reverted to the assassin. The hope was cherished that he would prove to be a lunatic or madman, and that the American people would thus be spared the horrid contemplation of a cold-blooded attempt against the life of the noble statesman who had been called by the voice of his countrymen to the highest place of honor. This hope, however, was soon dispelled. The assassin was found to be a mixture of fool and fanatic, who, in his previous career, had managed to build up, on a basis of total depravity, a considerable degree of scholarship. He was a lawyer by profession, and had made a pretense of practicing in several places—more particularly in Chicago. In that city and elsewhere he had made a reputation both malodorous and detestable. In the previous spring, about the time of the inauguration, he had gone to Washington to advance a claim to be Consul-General at Paris. He had sought and obtained interviews with both the President and Mr. Blaine, and pretended to believe that the former was on the point of dismissing the present consul at Paris to make a place for himself! Hanging about the Executive Mansion and the Department of State for several weeks, he seems to have conceived an intense hatred of the President, and to have determined on the commission of the crime. Unless his motive can be found in this, it would seem impossible to discover for what reason his foul and atrocious deed was committed. In the whole history of crime, it would, perhaps, be impossible to find a single example of a criminal with a moral nature so depraved and loathsome as that displayed by Guiteau in the cell to which he was consigned.
The second day.—The morning was anxiously awaited. The first news from Washington gave grounds of hope. The President’s mind had remained clear, and his admirable courage had had a marked effect in staying his bodily powers against the fearful effects of the wound. Mrs. Garfield had, meanwhile, reached Washington, and was at her husband’s bedside. Both were hopeful against the dreadful odds, and both resolved to face the issue with unfaltering trust. In the course of the early morning the President was able to take nourishment, thus gaining a small measure of that strength so needful in the coming struggle. The morning bulletins from the attending surgeons were as follows:
“Washington, July 3, 2:45 A. M.
“The President has been quietly sleeping much of the time since 9 P. M., awakening for a few moments every half hour. He has not vomited since 1 A. M., and is now taking some nourishment for the first time since his injury. Pulse, 124; temperature, normal; respiration, 18.
“D. W. Bliss, M. D.
“4 A. M.—The President has just awakened, greatly refreshed, and has not vomited since 1 A. M., having taken milk and lime-water on each occasion, frequently asking for it. Pulse, 120—fuller and of decidedly more character; temperature, 98 2–10; respiration, 18. The patient is decidedly more cheerful, and has amused himself and watchers by telling a laughable incident of his early career.
“D. W. Bliss, M. D.
“6 A. M.—The President’s rest has been refreshing during the night, and only broken at intervals of about half hours by occasional pain in the feet, and to take his nourishment of milk and lime-water and bits of cracked ice, to relieve the thirst, which has been constant. He is cheerful and hopeful, and has from the first manifested the most remarkable courage and fortitude.
“7:50 A. M.—This morning the physicians decide that no effort will be made at present to extract the ball, as its presence in the location determined does not necessarily interfere with the ultimate recovery of the President.