The Life and Work of James A. Garfield, Twentieth President of the United States / Embracing an Account of the Scenes and Incidents of His Boyhood; the Struggles of His Youth; the Might of His Early Manhood; His Valor As a Soldier; His Career As a Statesman; His Election to the Presidency; and the Tragic Story of His Death.

by John Clark Ridpath

The afternoon and evening bulletins of the fourteenth day were of the most encouraging purport:

“1 P. M.—The President continues to do very well this morning. Pulse, 94; temperature, 98.5; respiration, 18. 7 P. M.—The President has continued to do well during the day. The afternoon fever has been slighter than on any day since the 3d. Pulse, 98; temperature, 100.4; respiration. 20.”

There was, at this epoch in the history of President Garfield’s case, a good deal of monotony. The regular reports were in a measure duplicates of each other, and the unofficial accounts which were sent out by the newspaper correspondents were not characterized by the sensational quality which marked the early reports of the tragedy. The people, moreover—and with good reason—grew somewhat suspicious of startling dispatches, for it was found that the stock jobbers of New York City were not unwilling to use the President’s condition as a basis of speculation. With sorrow and mortification it was discovered that there were men so lost to the sense of shame as to wager fictitious shares against the hopes of the Nation and to speculate on a manufactured death-rattle in the throat of the Republic!

The fifteenth day.—From the beginning of the healing of the President’s wound, the surgeons had been more or less apprehensive that the blood of their patient would be poisoned by the absorption of purulent matter, and his life be thereby imperiled. There are two secondary diseases thus likely to arise from the presence of a wound in the body—pyæmia and septicæmia. The first of these is by far the most to be dreaded. The malady results from the absorption of the poisonous pus corpuscles into the circulation with the consequent horrors of rigors and burning fever. The latter disease, septicæmia, is a less fearful complication, resulting from the absorption of the fluid ichor peculiar to healing wounds and the infection of the blood thereby. Both of these ills were to be feared in the case of the President. Day by day went by, however, and the dreaded symptoms did not appear. The bulletins of the 16th of July were of a sort to indicate that blood poisoning was hardly to be apprehended. The reports said:

“8:30 A. M.—The President has passed another good night, and is steadily progressing toward convalescence. Pulse, 90; temperature, 98.5; respiration, 18. 7 P. M.—The President has passed a better day than any since he was hurt. The afternoon fever is still less than yesterday. His pulse is now 98; temperature, 100.2; respiration, 19.”

In view of the favorable progress of the President’s case the surgeons decided, for the time, to issue bulletins only in the morning and evening, thus dispensing with the noonday report.

One of the most interesting episodes in connection with the assassination of the President was the raising of a fund for the support of his family. The enterprise was proposed by Cyrus W. Field of New York, who headed the subscription with $25,000. The fund was for Mrs. Garfield, and was to be hers absolutely independent of any contingencies. It was proposed that any and all who felt disposed should add to the sum until the amount contemplated was secured. Then it was designed to invest the whole in Mrs. Garfield’s name, the interest to go to her and her family in perpetuity. Notwithstanding the strong hopes which were entertained of the President’s recovery, the subscription was rapidly augmented until, before the President’s death, the sum had reached more than $300,000. After the tragedy was ended the trustees having the fund in charge invested $275,000 of the amount in four per cent. Government bonds, placing the whole to Mrs. Garfield’s credit. It was thus that the American people, of their own accord, made provision for the wife and children of the great citizen who had never found time to get riches.

The sixteenth day.—The news on this day opened with the cheering information that the President was now permitted to order his own meals, and that he was making good use of the privilege. The day at Washington was one of the least exciting in the whole course of the President’s illness. The future was freely discussed—how soon the wounded Chief Magistrate might go abroad and what measures should be adopted for his more rapid restoration to health. The morning and evening bulletins were almost a mere matter of form:

“8:30 A. M.—The President continues to improve. He passed an excellent night and has a good appetite. This morning, pulse, 90; temperature, 98.4; respiration, 18. 7 P. M.—Our expectations of favorable progress have been fully realized by the manner in which the President has passed the day. He has taken more solid food and with greater relish than hitherto, and his afternoon fever, which is as slight as that of yesterday, came on later. His pulse is 98; temperature, 100.2; respiration, 20.”

The informal reports of the day showed, from the conversations of the surgeons, that they were still in some measure under the delusion that the ball had passed through the President’s body and was imbedded in the anterior wall, in a position of easy removal in the future.