Chapter XIII: Shot Down (2)

Unofficial information from the President’s bedside was, however, less favorable than the official reports. Many candid and cautious observers about the sick-room were more apprehensive than the physicians seemed to be, that the President was not so clearly on the road to recovery as could have been hoped. Among the latter was Professor B. A. Hinsdale, of Hiram College, who sent to Cleveland during the day a dispatch for publication among the old friends of the Garfield family, in which he said:

“The President is by no means out of danger, and I do not think it
wise for people to settle down in a belief that he is. Of course we
have a strong reason to hope that he will recover, but people ought
to remember that the road to recovery will be a long one, beset with
many dangers.”

One of the peculiarities of the President’s case was the invariable cheerfulness of the patient. He seemed to regard it as a part of his duty to keep those about him in good spirits, and to aid the physicians in the work of bringing him through. He frequently asked to see the bulletins, and sometimes made humorous remarks about their contents. His food was many times a subject of some jest, and when it did not suit him, he had his revenge by perpetrating some pleasant satire about the offending article, or the cooks who had prepared it. On one occasion, the President asked for a drink, whereupon Major Swaim handed him some milk, to which the physicians had added a small quantity of old rum. The President, after drinking it, looked at Major Swaim with a dissatisfied expression, and said: “Swaim, that’s a rum dose, isn’t it?” On other occasions the sufferer spoke gravely, but always hopefully, of his conditions and prospects, expressing the most earnest hopes for speedy and perfect recovery.

_The tenth day._—The weather was still oppressive, and the President was distressed with the heat. The artificial contrivances hitherto employed to reduce the temperature of his room, and to maintain the same at a given degree, had been but partly successful. An effort was now made on a more elaborate scale to overcome the heat by artificial means, and thus to furnish the President as much comfort as a moderate and equable temperature could afford. Monday, the eleventh of July, was mostly devoted to this work. Several fire-engines and large cast-iron boilers were put in position near the east basement door of the White House, and carpenters and machinists were set to work putting up apparatus of enormous proportions, connected with the ventilating machinery. Locomotive head-lights to illuminate the scene were supplied, so that there should be no interruption until the work was done. The basis of the refrigerating apparatus was the Jennings machine, heretofore referred to; but Professor Newcomb and Major Powell jointly assisted in perfecting some additional appliances for drying and purifying the air to be admitted to the sick chamber. Several other devices of an entirely different character were brought to the attention of the physicians in attendance, and experimental machinery was set up to exhibit some of them, but they were mostly unsuccessful. The President was not aware of the efforts of their inventors to benefit him.

But by means of the Jennings machine an even temperature of 77° Fahrenheit was preserved in the sick room, and the capacity of the machinery was found to be sufficient to reduce the temperature several degrees lower, if it should be thought necessary to do so. The windows of the President’s room remained open, so that the air which was forced into his chamber found ready exit, thus insuring perfect ventilation.

The bulletin issued by the surgeons on Monday morning was more encouraging. The report said:

“July 11—8 A. M.—The President passed a comfortable night, and his
condition shows an improvement over that of yesterday. Pulse, 98;
temperature, 99.2; respiration, 22.”

The President continued talkative. Only the positive injunction of the physicians could keep him from speaking out on all subjects that came into his mind. During the day he indulged in his accustomed pun. To one of his attendants he said, jocosely: “I wish I could get up on my feet; I would like to see whether I have any backbone left or not!” The sly backward look at the recent political struggle in which his administration had been engaged, involving the question of the presidential backbone, was not bad for a sick man battling for his life.

Justly or unjustly, the regular bulletins came to be somewhat distrusted by the people. The feeling began to spread that, although the naked facts of temperature, pulse, and respiration reported in the bulletins were not to be questioned as to their accuracy, yet the comments and construction put by the attending surgeons upon the facts, were too rose-colored to meet the conditions of exact truth. At the same time this opinion gained ground with the public, a feeling of quite implicit confidence sprang up respecting the official reports of the President’s condition sent abroad, more especially in reference to those sent to Lowell, Minister at St. James, by Secretary Blaine. These messages from the principal member of the President’s cabinet came, by and by, to be looked for with fully as much confidence as to their accuracy as did the surgeons’ official bulletins. On the 11th of July, Secretary Blaine sent out one of these messages which gave great comfort, as follows:

“LOWELL, _Minister_, _London_:

“At the beginning of the tenth day since he was wounded, the
symptoms of the President are all hopeful and favorable. Suppuration
goes on with no higher pulse or temperature than should be expected.
His milk diet, of a pint and a half per day, is relished and
digested. His physical strength keeps up wonderfully, and his mind
is entirely clear and active, without showing excitement. His
physicians do not count him beyond danger, but the general
confidence in his recovery is strengthened every hour.

“BLAINE, Secretary.”

Later in the day, however, the condition of the President was less favorable than that presented in Mr. Blaine’s dispatch, and the evening bulletin was constrained to admit a higher fever than at any time previously. The afternoon and evening official reports were as follows:

“1 P. M.—The favorable progress of the President continues. Pulse,
106; temperature, 99.8; respiration, 24. 7 P. M.—The President has
had rather more fever this afternoon. In other respects, his
condition is unchanged. Pulse, 108; temperature, 102.8; respiration,
24.”

_The eleventh day._—As the President’s case progressed, the public became divided in their views of the prospect of recovery. Physicians themselves disagreed as to both the diagnosis and the treatment of the President’s injury. The distinguished Dr. Hammond, of New York, did not hesitate openly to condemn the course pursued by the attending surgeons. Other noted physicians, not a few, held similar opinions; and a series of able and exhaustive articles appeared in the New York _Herald_, criticising with severity the methods and views of those who were immediately responsible for the management of the case. The attending surgeons were considerably annoyed by these strictures, and many sharp replies were returned to those physicians who, without having personally examined the President’s wound, ventured to express definite opinions on questions which those for more than a week in immediate attendance upon the patient, had been unable to decide. The newspapers also divided, one part of them publishing all the favorable, and the other all the unfavorable news from the sick chamber of the White House. The former felt called upon to explain away every unfavorable symptom which appeared; and the latter, to becloud all the favorable news with doubt. This diversion in public opinion continued manifest during the remainder of the President’s illness.

The first news for Tuesday, the 12th of July, came in the bulletins of the surgeons, and was as follows:

“8 A. M.—The President is comfortable this morning. Pulse, 96;
temperature, 99.6; respiration, 22.”

In addition to these regular reports of the attending physicians, much unofficial information of the President’s condition was constantly given to the public through the daily press. Nearly all of the leading newspapers had regular correspondents at the Capital, and the reports which they sent each day were quite extended and generally full of interest. These unofficial communications were, in large part, made up of conversations which the reporters held from time to time with the surgeons and nurses of the President; and, although in many cases the news sent out from these sources was conflicting and contradictory, yet the public was greatly indebted to the industry and skill with which each morning’s accounts were prepared. During the 12th of July, Dr. F. H. Hamilton, one of the consulting surgeons, was asked by a reporter of the New York _Tribune_ to give his opinion of the President’s condition. He replied that nothing had occurred within the preceding twenty-four hours to cause the alarm that some professed to feel. The rise in temperature and increase in pulse had occurred for several evenings, and both were natural at that time of day, even in a well person. He added, however, that the President’s condition would be more favorable, if these symptoms were absent altogether. There was nothing discouraging in the official bulletins, which he thought were scrupulously correct, as in the private intelligence sent him by the attending surgeons. He repeated the assertion that he had made from the beginning, that every hour that elapsed without more dangerous symptoms, increased the patient’s chances of recovery.

The bulletins of the afternoon and evening were couched in the usual language; but it was evident, on critical examination of the figures, that the construction put by the surgeons upon them, was hardly justified by the facts. The reports said:

“1 P. M.—The President is passing a comfortable day. Pulse, 100;
temperature, 100.8; respiration, 24. 7 P. M.—Pulse, 104;
temperature, 102.4; respiration, 24.”

_The twelfth day._—During the second week of the President’s prostration the public mind settled down to the expectation of a long, tedious illness. The suspense of the first few days had passed—as such things always pass—and people came to understand that they must wait until the silent forces of nature should restore, if they ever could restore, the wounded Chief Magistrate to health. The Wednesday morning bulletin was of the most cheering kind—more so, for once, than was expressed in the words of the surgeons:

“8:30 A. M.—The President is doing well this morning. Pulse, 90;
temperature, 98.5; respiration, 20. His gradual progress toward
recovery is manifest, and thus far without serious complication.”

The temperature of the President’s room had now been completely mastered by artificial means. The degree finally decided on as most favorable to the patient was 81° Fahrenheit. About 10,000 cubic feet of fresh air was forced into the room each hour, and this great volume making its escape through the open windows carried away all odors and impurities. The President’s wound was now in full process of suppuration. This became a heavy drain upon his constitutional and reserved forces, and his strength was rapidly depleted. He grew worse—unable to move his body or even his limbs without great exertion. At intervals, moreover, the stomach refused to perform its functions, and there was, in consequence, instant anxiety on the question of keeping life in the President until he _could_ get well. The fluid food, upon which only he was nourished, neither satisfied the longings of nature nor furnished sufficient aliment to sustain the flagging powers of life. Moreover, at this epoch began the great blunder in the President’s treatment. Owing to the mistaken diagnosis of the surgeons the course of the ball had been altogether misjudged. According to the theory of the physicians the ball had gone forward and downward. As soon as the wound began to suppurate it was found desirable to insert therein a drainage tube to the end that the discharge might be perfectly free. This tube—though pliable—was, in the process of insertion, constantly so manipulated by the surgeons as to carry it forward and downward in the _supposed_ track of the ball, rather than horizontally to the left, in the _real_ course of the ball. It thus came to pass that the natural tendency of the pus, making its way to the external opening of the wound to sink into the tissues before _reaching_ the wound, was augmented by the erroneous theory and manipulation of the surgeons. Having once started an opening downward through the tissues, this was immediately filled with pus, and into this pseudo wound, at each insertion in the path of the burrowing pus, the physician’s tube was thrust further and further. This mistake—albeit unforeseen and possibly undiscoverable—was the rock on which all hope of recovery was ultimately shivered. The noonday and evening bulletins came at the appointed hours and were as follows:

“1 P. M.—The President’s condition continues favorable. Pulse, 94;
temperature, 100.6; respiration, 22. 7 P. M.—The President has had
less fever this afternoon than either yesterday or the day before.
He continues slowly to improve. Pulse, 100; temperature, 101.6;
respiration, 24.”

The large and not very reputable army of busybodies now made a great discovery. It was the great question of the President’s “disability” to be President any longer. Certainly he was wounded, stricken down, lying at death’s door. He was disabled; there was no doubt of that. The Constitution indicates disability of the President as one of the contingencies under which the Vice-President shall discharge the duties of the presidency. But was President Garfield disabled in the sense contemplated by the framers of the Constitution? Does that kind of prostration of the bodily powers, in which there is still a prospect of recovery, which leaves the will free to act, and the mental powers unimpaired, really involve disability? These were the questions which now came up for public discussion. However they might or should be decided as abstract questions of constitutional construction, certain it is that, as a practical issue, there was quite a universal judgment that, _as yet_, President Garfield was not “disabled” in the sense of the Constitution. Such was the temper of the people, moreover, that they would not have patiently brooked any real effort to make the Vice-President acting Chief Magistrate of the Nation.

_The thirteenth day._—Thursday, July 14th, was a quiet day at the White House, and a like quiet was gradually diffused through the country. The President was reported as having gained a little strength—a very desirable thing. The unofficial accounts from the sick chamber were more than usually encouraging. The reports of the President’s condition occupied a less conspicuous place in the papers of the day, and there was less popular discussion. The morning bulletin said:

“8:30 A. M.—The President has passed a comfortable night and
continues to do well. Pulse, 90; temperature, 99.8; respiration,
22.”

Hardly second in interest to the regular bulletins were the dispatches constantly arriving from foreign powers, expressing either some hope of recovery or asking for the latest news. On this day, the Secretary of State received the following telegram from Mr. Lowell:

“BLAINE, _Secretary, Washington_:

“I have received the following from the Queen: ‘I wish to express my
great satisfaction at the very favorable accounts of the President,
and hope that he will soon be considered out of danger.’

“LOWELL, Minister, London.”

The Japanese Minister also handed to the Secretary of State a telegraphic communication which he received from his Government, of which the following is a copy:

“YOSHIDA, _Japanese Minister, Washington_:

“His Majesty was greatly rejoiced to receive your dispatch
announcing the steady recovery of the President, and commands you to
present his hearty congratulations.

“MOOYENO, Acting Minister Foreign Affairs, Tokio.”

During the day Senator Conkling, of whose attitude towards the Administration so much had been recently said, again visited Washington. In the evening he called at the Executive Mansion and handed the usher his card for Mrs. Garfield. He said he did not wish to disturb her, but desired that his sympathies might be made known to her, as well as his gratification that the President was recovering from his wounds.

The afternoon and evening bulletins were duly issued, and gave the following account of the President’s progress:

“1 P. M.—The progress of the President’s condition continues to be
satisfactory this morning. Pulse, 94; temperature, 98.5;
respiration, 22. 7. P. M.—The febrile rise this afternoon has been
less pronounced, and has not caused the President so much
discomfort. His general condition is good. Pulse, 98; temperature,
101; respiration, 23.”

The interpretation put by the surgeons upon these reports, and generally—though not universally—accepted by medical men, was that the so-called “surgical fever,” that is, a certain exacerbation of bodily temperature always noticeable in persons recovering from physical injury, had passed its crisis and would soon disappear. This belief was strengthened during the day by the presence of perspiration and other concomitants of a waning fever.

For the first time in five days the patient’s temperature fell to the normal degree (98.6°). A new drainage pipe of rubber was inserted into the wound to a greater depth than the original pipe had reached.[4] The President was able to move his limbs more easily than heretofore, and in other ways manifested his improvement. He asked more frequently about public affairs, and his curiosity was gratified in matters which would not produce excitement.

Footnote 4:

Here again was the fatal mistake. Day after day the burrowing pus was
aided on its way downward among the tissues by the disturbing drainage
tubes of the surgeons.

Thus day by day the battle went on between the recuperative forces of nature and the destructive agency of a dreadful wound.

_The fourteenth day._—The improvement in the President’s condition, first distinctly manifested about the beginning of this week, was now more marked than hitherto. The patient took food with relish. The wound showed signs of healing. The febrile symptoms during most of the day were wholly wanting. Taken all in all there was a distinct progress toward recovery. The morning bulletin said:

“8:30 A. M.—The President has rested well during the night, is doing
admirably this morning, and takes his food with relish. Pulse, 90;
temperature, 98.5; respiration, 18.”

The physicians, on the strength of these indications, declared in unofficial conversation that the progress of their distinguished patient toward recovery could not be more satisfactory. So both surgeons and people fell to the discussion of minor topics instead of the great question of life or death. One question about which all were specially curious was the location of the ball in the President’s body. Several electricians thought to determine this matter by a new application of scientific principles. It was suggested that the deflection of an electric needle, when brought near to the ball, could be used as an index of the exact spot where the missile was hidden. Professor Bell, of New York, was specially confident of success by this method. He was firm in the belief that, by the application of Hughes’s induction balance to the surface of the President’s body, he would be able to mark definitely the spot where the ball lay imbedded. The attending surgeons gave their consent that the attempt might be made, and it was agreed that as soon as Professor Bell had completed some modifications in the instrument, and some experimental tests for the discovery of leaden balls under similar conditions, the trial should be made.

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.

_The seventeenth day._—This was similar to the day before. Notwithstanding the febrile rise of the preceding evening, the President was reported as having passed a restful night. In the morning he had a friendly altercation with the doctors, he contending that he might smoke a cigar and they refusing. He was cheerful, confident, and strong in the faith that he was on the way leading to recovery. The symptoms had a reassuring complexion in the general view and to the immediate attendants. The President felt that he was better, and he said so. There was no question about his fever; that showed for itself; but it did not lead to serious apprehension. Improvement in his condition was what the people wanted to hear about, and they did not expect any thing else. The great majority had determined upon not hearing any thing contrary to their hopes, and this feeling was participated in by the public press. Under these conditions it is not surprising that the physicians, who knew just how the popular heart was throbbing, made extraordinary effort to respond to its requirements. No one accuses them of deception. No one believes they were actuated by any but the best motives in their examinations and reports. Admitting that a portion of their theory was wrong, who will contend that a better theory could have resulted from the examination of any equivalent number of physicians and surgeons? This question has been widely discussed, without finding a conclusion in anywise discreditable to the corps of eminent scientists who ministered to the sufferings of President Garfield.

The physicians explained to the public that the present feverishness of the patient had arisen from his recent over-eating of solid food. The more thoughtful, however, who had carefully scanned the reports for the last few days, were not satisfied, and awaited the morning bulletin with a little fear. The report ran thus:

“8:30 A. M.—The President has passed another comfortable night and
is doing well this morning; pulse, 88; temperature, 98.4;
respiration, 18.”

This was reassuring; so the people took up the subject of the thanksgiving which had been proposed by Governor Charles Foster, of Ohio. During the day a letter was published from Hon. O. M. Roberts, Governor of Texas, giving his hearty approval of what Governor Foster had proposed. An interesting conversation with Dr. Bliss was also reported for the Eastern press, in the course of which he declared that the President’s wound was in the healing stage, and that the track of the ball was slowly but surely clearing by the processes of nature. The evening bulletin, however, was not as fair as had been hoped. It said:

“7 P. M.—The President has had a little more fever this afternoon,
which is regarded as merely a temporary fluctuation. At 1 P. M. his
pulse was 98; temperature, 98.5; respiration, 18. At present his
pulse is 102; temperature, 100.7; respiration, 21.”

_The eighteenth day._—Something has already been said of the Hughes Induction balance with which Professor Bell was to discover the position of the ball in the President’s body. The preliminary experiments had been continued, and the electricians had strong hopes of success, but the test had not yet been made. The press reports of the day were largely devoted to descriptions of the delicate apparatus which was to enable the scientists to determine the exact location of the ball. The great difficulty in the way was the non-susceptibility of lead to the inductive effect of electricity. Professor Bell and his co-electricians were, however, quite confident that this obstacle could be overcome and the position of the ball determined. The two bulletins of July 19th were as follows:

“8:30 A. M.—The President has passed a very good night, and this
morning he is free from fever, and expresses himself as feeling
quite comfortable. Pulse, 90; temperature, 98.5; respiration, 18. 7
P. M.—The President has passed an excellent day, and the afternoon
fever has been less than on any day since he was wounded. At 1 P. M.
his pulse was 92; temperature, 98.5; respiration, 19. At present his
pulse is 96; temperature, 99.8; respiration, 19.”

_The nineteenth day._—The reports, both official and unofficial, were of a sort to justify a belief in the early convalescence of the President—if indeed convalescence had not already supervened. The fever was so slight as to be scarcely any longer noticeable. The President’s appetite and spirits were of a sort to suggest immediate recovery. It was said by the attending surgeons on the 20th of July, that the wounded man had passed his best day since his injury was received. He was still represented as weak and weary from lying so long in bed. He was looking forward eagerly to the time when he could take the trip upon the Potomac, and possibly a sea voyage, which had been promised him by the middle of August, if he should continue to improve. Arrangements were already made so that the trip might be as safe and comfortable as possible.

The Tallapoosa, a United States steamer, underwent repairs and was made ready for service. The Secretary of the Navy issued orders to put additional men at work upon her, so that she might be ready to sail at any time after the 15th of August.

The bulletins of the surgeons were issued as usual, morning and evening. They said:

“8:30 A. M.—The progress of the President toward recovery continues
uninterruptedly. He has passed another quiet night. Pulse this
morning 86; temperature, 98.4; respiration, 18. 7 P. M.—The
President has passed an excellent day. At 1 P. M. his pulse was 88;
temperature, 98.4; respiration, 18. At the present time his pulse is
98; temperature, 99.6; respiration, 19.”

_The twentieth day._—The physicians were unwilling to say that their patient was out of danger, but they permitted the attendants to think so, and the people accepted it as true. At the morning dressing of the wound a discovery was made. It was found that some of the clothing had entered the wound with the bullet. There came away, spontaneously with the pus, from the deeper part of the wound, what the surgeons called a “morsel of clothing,” about one-quarter of an inch square. Upon being examined under the microscope by Dr. Woodward, it was found to consist chiefly of cotton fibers, with a few woolen fibers adhering. It was a portion of the President’s shirt, with a few fibers of wool from the coat.

The two bulletins of the day were brief but satisfactory:

“8:30 A. M.—The President has had a good night and is doing
excellently. This morning, pulse, 88; temperature, 98.4;
respiration, 18. 7 P. M.—The President has had another good day. At
1 P. M. his pulse was 92; temperature, 98.4; respiration, 19. At 7
P. M., pulse, 96; temperature, 99.9; respiration, 19.”

For some time past the consulting surgeons had not been called to the President’s bedside, but daily reports were made to them by the physicians in charge. These reports, however, were but a more extended statement of the facts contained in the official bulletins, and generally added nothing in the way of information.

_The twenty-first day._—The recovery of the President was now generally believed to be assured. The surgeons gave it as their opinion that about the only danger to be apprehended was the prolonged suppuration of the wound. Under the influence of this drain the President was wasting from day to day, and the amount of food which he was able to take was hardly sufficient to supply the waste. Nevertheless he held up well under this exhaustive process, and although greatly reduced in flesh and strength, his vital energies did not as yet seem to be seriously impaired. Almost the only item of news which came from the White House was the somewhat monotonous bulletins, which said:

“8:30 A. M.—The President rested well during the night and is quite
easy this morning. Pulse, 88; temperature, 98.4; respiration, 17.
7:30 P. M.—The progress of the President’s case continues without
material change. At 1 P. M. his pulse was 98; temperature, 98.4;
respiration, 18. At 7 P. M., pulse, 98; temperature, 100.2;
respiration, 19.”

_The twenty-second day._—Bad news! The President was worse. The morning bulletin did not appear. At first this fact created no anxiety, but soon there was alarm. At ten o’clock a bulletin was posted by the surgeons, which said:

“10 A. M.—The President was more restless last night; but this
morning at 7 A. M., while preparations were made to dress his wound,
his temperature was found to be normal; pulse, 92; temperature,
98.4; respiration, 19. At 7:30 he had a slight rigor, in consequence
of which the dressing of his wound was postponed. Reaction followed
promptly, and the dressing has just now been completed. At present
his pulse is 110; temperature, 101; respiration, 24.”

“Rigor” was a bad word. Physicians understood it to portend blood poisoning. It was remembered, moreover, by the attendants that for the last two days the President had complained of a sense of great fatigue. The symptoms were well calculated to inspire a fear that the dread pyæmia had made its appearance. The consulting surgeons were immediately sent for. At half-past eleven the President had _another_ chill, and the news given to the people in the afternoon papers was of a kind to create the most serious apprehensions. The evening bulletin was awaited with the utmost anxiety. In the towns and cities crowds filled the streets as had happened three weeks before when the news came of the assassination. At seven o’clock the bulletin came as follows:

“7 P. M.—After the bulletin of 10 A. M. the President’s fever
continued. At 11:30 A. M. he again had a slight rigor, and his
temperature subsequently rose, until, at 12:30 P. M. it was 104,
with pulse 125, respiration, 26. Between this time and 1 P. M.
perspiration made its appearance, and the temperature began to fall
gradually. It is now 101.7; pulse, 118; respiration, 25.”

Soon after this bulletin was made public, Drs. Agnew and Hamilton reached Washington, but it was thought not best to disturb the President further, and so no consultation was held until the morrow.

_The twenty-third day._—This was an anxious day in Washington and throughout the country. With the coming of morning it was learned that during the night the President had had another chill. It also transpired that at the evening dressing of the wound, the physicians discovered in the region below where the ball had entered, a pus sac, that is, an accumulation of purulent matter in a cavity inclosed in the tissues of the back. At nine o’clock there was an examination by the attending and consulting surgeons, and an operation was determined upon. An incision was accordingly made about two inches in length, an inch and a half in depth, reaching down to the bottom of the cavity or sac. It was about three inches below the wound and farther back toward the spine. A large drainage tube was inserted, and in the afternoon, when the wound was again dressed, it was found that the pus was escaping from the tube and not from the old wound at all.

In making this artificial opening some farther discoveries were made regarding the character of the wound. It was found that the eleventh rib had suffered a compound fracture, being broken in two places. The piece of bone thus displaced was driven inwards from its natural position. This the surgeons restored to its place, and it was decided that in a few days the old opening, where the ball had entered, should be allowed to heal, leaving only the orifice made by the surgeons. During the operation the President displayed his usual courage. He neither flinched nor moved, though nothing was given him in the nature of an anæsthetic. Probes were thrust down through the old wound to the bottom of the pocket, and against these probes the surgeons cut their way to the lower end of the sac. The operation thus performed was in every way successful. The beneficial effects were immediately apparent in an improved condition of the sufferer. The bulletin issued by the surgeons in the evening was as follows:

“7 P. M.—The President has been much relieved by the operation of
this morning, and the pus has been discharging satisfactorily
through the new opening. At noon to-day his pulse was 118;
temperature, 99.8; respiration, 24. At present his pulse is 104;
temperature, 99.2; respiration, 23.”

The unofficial conversations of the surgeons with reporters and others was to the effect that, taken all in all, the prospects for the President’s ultimate recovery were not lessened by the events of the last two days.

_The twenty-fourth day._—The news was somewhat reassuring. There had been no very marked change in the President’s condition, either for better or worse. But he had passed a comparatively comfortable night, sleeping at intervals, and suffering no recurrence of the chill. The operation performed had entailed no serious consequence, and the outlook again began to be hopeful. The surgeon’s bulletins were of a sort to cheer rather than discourage. They said:

“8:30 A. M.—The President has passed a more comfortable night, and
has had no rigor since that reported in the bulletin of yesterday
morning. He is doing well this morning. Pulse, 96; temperature,
98.4; respiration, 18. 7 P. M.—The President has done well during
the day. His afternoon fever did not come on until after three
o’clock. It is somewhat higher than yesterday, but there has been no
chill. At noon his pulse was 104; temperature, 98.4; respiration,
20. At 7 P. M. his pulse was 110; temperature, 101; respiration,
24.”

The attendants upon the President who were often at the bedside, and had every opportunity of judging of the general course of the case, and also the members of the Cabinet, reiterated in many informal conversations the views expressed officially by the surgeons in charge. None the less, to one who could read between the lines and could not be blown hot or cold with every rumor, it was clear, even from the surgeons’ bulletins, that the recovery of the President was still problematical.

_The twenty-fifth day._—The reports for Tuesday, July 26th, showed that the President was gaining ground, and that he had in a good measure realized the relief hoped for from the operation of the previous Sunday. This belief was plainly present in the dispatch of the cool-headed Mr. Blaine. He said:

“LOWELL, _Minister_, _London_:

“At 11 o’clock P. M. the President’s physicians report temperature
and respiration normal, and pulse, 96—best report at same hour for
five nights. The entire day has been most encouraging, and a feeling
of confidence is rapidly returning.

“BLAINE, Secretary.”

This dispatch of the Secretary of State was, of course, based upon the official bulletins of the surgeons, who said in their reports for the day:

“8:30 A. M.—The President was somewhat restless during the night,
and the fever which had subsided after the last bulletin rose again
about midnight, and continued till three o’clock, after which it
again subsided. He is now about as well as yesterday at the same
hour. Pulse, 102; temperature, 98.4; respiration, 18. 7 P. M.—The
President has done well during the day. At noon his pulse was 106;
temperature, 98.4; respiration, 19. At 7 P. M. pulse, 104;
temperature, 100.7; respiration, 22.”

One of the distressing features of the times was the presence in Washington of great numbers of irresponsible newspaper correspondents who shamed their profession by the publication of whatever came uppermost. The Capital appeared to be at the mercy of sensational rumor-mongers, and they made the most of their opportunity. According to them, the doctors had said that the President would not live an hour; mortification had set in; an important surgical operation had been necessary, and the result had been unsatisfactory; the surgeons refused to give any information concerning it or the President’s condition; it had been decided by the surgeons that an attempt must at once be made to find and extract the bullet as a last desperate effort to save the President’s life; the flag on the building occupied by the Department of Justice was at half-mast, as a sign of the President’s death, etc.

_The twenty-sixth day._—There could be no doubt that the reports of the 27th indicated a marked improvement in the President’s condition. He continued all day without fever. The bulletins were unequivocal:

“8 A. M.—The President slept sweetly last night from about 8 P. M.
to 5 A. M., with but a slight break of short duration at 11 P. M.
There have been no rigors. He takes his nourishment well, and his
general condition is improving. He expresses himself as feeling
better and more rested. Pulse, 94; temperature, 98.4; respiration,
18. 12:30. P. M.—The President’s wound was dressed just after the
morning bulletin was issued. Since then he has rested quietly, and
takes his nourishment readily and without gastric disturbance. At
present his pulse is 90; temperature, 98.4; respiration, 18. 7 P.
M.—The President is still resting quietly. He has been able to take
more nourishment to-day than for several days past, and, up to the
present hour, has had no febrile rise of temperature. His wound has
just been dressed. It looks well, and has continued to discharge
healthy pus in sufficient quantity during the day. His pulse is now
95; temperature, 98.5; respiration, 20.”

The news sent abroad by Secretary Blaine to Minister Lowell was of the same tenor. The dispatch said:

“LOWELL, _Minister_, _London_.

“At 11 o’clock P. M. the President’s physicians gave a most
favorable account of his condition. There is a conspicuous
improvement in his digestion and in the restfulness of his sleep. We
are by no means relieved from anxiety, but are growing more hopeful.

“BLAINE, _Secretary_.”

In a conversation during the day, Dr. Bliss, referring to the outlook, said: “There is only one more danger to be apprehended in the President’s case. That danger is pyæmia, and it is not likely to occur for a long time; and we are extremely confident, almost certain, that it will not occur at all. The President is doing very, very well. We could not hope to have him do better. His sleep last night was the best that he has had since he was wounded.”

_The twenty-seventh day._—The incident of the day was the removal of the President from his room, in order that the apartment might be thoroughly cleaned and aired. The removal was effected without difficulty, and the President remained in the adjacent room until five o’clock in the afternoon, when he was quietly returned to his own chamber. He greatly enjoyed the slight change of scene thus afforded, and was much pleased with the maneuver by which his room had been brought to order. His spirits were revived not a little, and an improvement in his appetite was again thankfully noted. The official bulletins of the day were as follows:

“8 A. M.—The President rested well during the night, and no rigor or
febrile disturbance has occurred since the bulletin of yesterday
evening. This morning the improvement of his general condition is
distinctly perceptible. He appears refreshed by his night’s rest,
and expresses himself cheerfully as to his condition. Pulse, 92;
temperature, 98.4: respiration, 18. 12:20 P. M.—The President bore
the dressing of his wound this morning with less fatigue than
hitherto. It appears well and is discharging sufficiently. His pulse
is now 94; temperature, 98.5; respiration, 18. 7 P. M.—The President
has passed a pleasant day, and has taken his nourishment with
apparent relish. His temperature continued normal until about 5
o’clock, when a moderate afternoon rise occurred, which, however,
gives the patient but slight discomfort, and causes no anxiety. At
present his pulse is 104; temperature, 100.5; respiration, 20.”

During the day a sensational report was started to the effect that Dr. Agnew—in whose skill as a surgeon the people had come to have the greatest confidence—had said that the President’s life could not be saved unless the ball was excised at an early day. This rumor, however, was promptly denied, as were also some alleged unfavorable remarks of Dr. Hamilton. About this time, however, some eminent surgeons—notably Dr. Hammond, of New York City—began to express, and even to publish, very serious strictures upon the views and treatment adopted by the attending and consulting physicians of the President; and, in some instances, the reasoning of the critics seemed to be so well borne out by the facts as to put the medical and surgical skill of those who managed the President’s case to a very hard strain.

_The twenty-eighth day._—On the 29th of July a Cabinet meeting, at which all the members except Attorney-General MacVeagh were present, was held at the White House. Public matters were discussed, and certain routine official business disposed of in the usual way. All this indicated a belief, on the part of the members, that the President was on the road to recovery. There was, however, no marked change in his condition or prospects. He had passed a comfortable night—so said the attendants—and the afternoon fever was less pronounced than on the previous day. The three bulletins of the surgeons contained about the only information which could be obtained of the progress of the distinguished patient. They were as follows:

“8:30 A. M.—Immediately after the evening dressing yesterday the
President’s afternoon fever began gradually to subside. He slept
well during the night, and this morning is free from fever, looks
well, and expresses himself cheerfully. A moderate rise of
temperature in the afternoon is to be anticipated for some days to
come. At present his pulse is 92; temperature, 98.4; respiration,
18. 2:30 P. M.—The President bore the dressing of his wound well
this morning, and exhibited very little fatigue after its
completion. He rests well, and takes an adequate quantity of
nourishment. At present his pulse is 98; temperature, 98.4;
respiration, 19. 7 P. M.—The President has been comfortable and
cheerful during the day, and has had quite a nap since the noon
bulletin was issued. At present his pulse is 98; temperature, 100;
respiration, 20.”

To these reports very little can be added for the day, except the confirmation of their substance in the evening dispatch of Secretary Blaine, which was as follows:

“LOWELL, _Minister_, _London_:

“The President’s afternoon fever was less to-day than yesterday, and
at this hour—half-past 11 P. M.—has almost disappeared. Temperature
very nearly normal. His wound is in a healthy condition, and he is
doing well in all respects. His physicians are greatly encouraged.

“BLAINE, _Secretary_.”

_The twenty-ninth day._—With the morning of the 30th of July came the report of a farther—though slight—improvement in the President’s condition. He was said to have waked early in the morning after a refreshing sleep. He showed no fatigue from the dressing of the wound in the course of the forenoon, and ate with relish a moderate quantity of solid food. He was able, with the aid of a contrivance placed under the mattress, partly to sit up in bed. The afternoon rise in temperature was moderate. Several times during the President’s illness the question of malarious influences about the White House, as affecting his prospects of recovery, was discussed by the physicians and the general public. It was noticed that several of the employes had been taken sick in a way to indicate malaria in the surroundings. The condition of the Executive Mansion itself was reported as being unfavorable to health. So the question of removing the President to a more healthful place was again raised and seriously debated by the surgeons. Dr. Bliss, who was a member of the Washington Board of Health, which several years before, after a long struggle, had succeeded in having a large number of disease-breeding tenement-houses removed, was very emphatic in his condemnation of the “conveniences” of the White House, and said the family of the President should be removed while engineers should overhaul and renovate the entire plumbing arrangements of the premises.

Of course all possible means are taken to keep the unhealthy influence arising from this condition of affairs from the sick-room of the President; and the closed doors, together with the elaborate new ventilating apparatus, were believed to furnish ample protection.

Mr. Blaine, in his night dispatch to Minister Lowell, spoke encouragingly of the situation, and the official bulletins were pitched in the usual hopeful key:

“8:30 A. M.—The President enjoyed a refreshing sleep during the
greater part of the night. A gradual improvement of his general
condition in all particulars is observable, and is recognized by
himself. His pulse is now 92; temperature, 98.5; respiration, 18.
12:30 P. M.—The President showed no fatigue from the dressing of his
wound this morning. His general condition continues gradually to
improve. A moderate quantity of solid food has been added to his
nourishment, and was eaten with relish. At present his pulse is 98;
temperature, 98.5; respiration, 20. 7 P. M.—The President has passed
the day comfortably and without drawback or unpleasant symptoms. The
afternoon rise of temperature is moderate, and did not commence
until about 5 o’clock. At present his pulse is 104; temperature,
100.2; respiration, 20.”

_The thirtieth day._—The physicians again found time to discuss the location of the ball in the President’s body. The majority had still held the opinion that the missile had passed through the peritoneal cavity, and was lodged in the front wall of the abdomen. In a dispatch of the day, it was even alleged that the surgeons were now agreed in this opinion.

It was believed that the black-and-blue spot, which had been visible on the right side of the abdomen for several days after the President received his injury, marked the bullet’s location, and this theory was apparently confirmed by such results as had thus far been obtained with the induction balance. However this might be, it was said by the physicians, with much confidence, that the ball was, by this stage of progress, encysted, and that not much further trouble would or could arise from its presence in the body. The bulletins of the thirtieth day were as follows:

“8:30 A. M.—The President slept well during the night, and awoke
refreshed this morning. His appearance and expression this morning
indicate continued improvement. At present his pulse is 94;
temperature, 98.4; respiration, 18. 12:30 P. M.—The President bore
the morning dressing of the wound without fatigue. It continues to
look well and discharge adequately. The quantity of nourishment now
taken daily is regarded as quite sufficient to support his system
and favor the gradual increase in strength, which is plainly
observable. At present his pulse is 100; temperature, 98.5;
respiration, 19. 7 P. M.—The President has passed an excellent day.
The afternoon rise of temperature has been quite insignificant. At
present his pulse is 104; temperature, 99; respiration, 20.”

On this day it was announced that Professor Bell had completed his instrument for determining the location of the ball. A description of the apparatus was given to the public, which, though couched in scientific language, may prove of interest to the general reader. The induced electrical current, and the interference therewith by the presence of a metallic body, were the fundamental facts of the invention. The instrument consisted of two circular primary coils of insulated copper three inches in diameter and half an inch in thickness, the one being constructed of No. 19 wire, and containing between seven and eight ohms of resistance, forming the primary coil, and the other of No. 28 or 30 wire, giving more than eighty ohms of resistance, forming the secondary coil, the two being connected in separate metallic circuits. In the circuit with the former there was placed an electrical battery and a spring vibrator, the latter so adjusted as to make a very rapid series of “breaks” of the circuit, sending a hundred or more electrical pulsations over the circuit and around the primary coil of wire per second. A hand telephone only was placed in the circuit with the secondary coil. The batteries being connected, and the vibrator set in motion, the secondary coil was placed so as to cover the primary, and the operator having the telephone at his ear, hears the pulsations of the primary current sent through the vibrator with each motion of its spring, an induced current being produced in the secondary coil by its contiguity with the primary.

Up to this point the ground traversed had been familiar to all electricians for many years. Professor Bell’s discovery, which made the subject of special interest, consisted in the fact that if the secondary coil be gradually turned to one side, so as to uncover a portion of its primary, the inductive effects and the resultant tone from the vibrator diminish until a point is reached, where only about one-third of the surface of the secondary coil remaining upon the primary coil, the sound-producing effect of the induction ceased altogether. If the secondary coil be moved beyond the point of silence the sonorous results become immediately apparent.