44 pages • 1 hour read
Candice MillardA modern alternative to SparkNotes and CliffsNotes, SuperSummary offers high-quality Study Guides with detailed chapter summaries and analysis of major themes, characters, and more.
After the shooting, Guiteau tried to escape from the station, but others blocked the doors. A ticket agent first grabbed a hold of him until a police officer arrived from outside. Crowds began to form outside the station, including a group of black men who threatened to lynch the assassin (Garfield had been an abolitionist before the war and a champion of freedman’s rights after it). As the officer dragged him away, Guiteau took one of the letters he had written out of his pocket, demanding that it be delivered to General William Tecumseh Sherman. He had written Sherman in advance to inform him of his deed, tell him that he would be sent to prison, and request that the general come at once with his troops to liberate him. Guiteau was taken first to police headquarters and then to the district jail.
In the meantime, people scrambled to help the fallen president. A janitor tried to help him to his feet before realizing he could not stand. The attendant of the women’s waiting room then came over and rested Garfield’s head in her lap as he lay on the floor. Within five minutes, the city’s health officer, Dr. Smith Townsend, had arrived; over the next hour, nine other doctors would join him. Townsend examined the wound by inserting his finger into the bullet hole in Garfield’s back. As Millard explains, that was precisely the kind of technique that Joseph Lister had warned against at the Centennial Exhibition five years earlier, and in lectures and articles since. Needless to say, the US medical establishment had not heeded his advice, and Townsend’s initial examination “almost certainly introduc[ed] an infection that was far more lethal than Guiteau’s bullet” (161).
Townsend enlisted the help of others to get the president off the floor of the train station and away from the crowds. Station employees offered the use of a mattress from a storage room, and with Garfield lying atop it, a group of men carried him to an empty room upstairs. He was worried about his wife and asked a friend to send her a telegram. Members of his cabinet, who had been waiting for Garfield on the platform to take the train with him, came to the room when they caught wind of the news. A second doctor, Charles Purvis, also arrived and attended to Garfield, becoming the first black man to medically treat a US president.
Robert Todd Lincoln, the secretary of war, had a carriage waiting outside and sent the driver to find Dr. D. Willard Bliss, one of the men who had treated his own father when he had been shot sixteen years earlier. Bliss had known Garfield since the latter was a boy, and while in Congress, Garfield had supported the doctor when he was pushed out of the District of Columbia Medical Society for being against its policy to ban black doctors. In addition, Bliss had showed an interest in homeopathy, which the DC Medical Society deemed unsound. In the end, however, he had capitulated and returned to the Society’s favor after apologizing and changing his views, falling in line with their more traditional medical policies. He now was a strong proponent of the allopathic approach and, what’s more, held little regard for Lister’s germ theory. Once he arrived, he took control of the president’s care. Using two kinds of probes and his finger, he explored the wound in search of the bullet.
In this short chapter, Millard explains that Lucretia returned to Washington and Garfield was moved from the train station back to the White House. The telegram sent by the president’s friend arrived in New Jersey, where his wife was staying, and arrangements were made for a special train to take her home to the capital.
Back in Washington, Garfield had asked to be taken to the White House. He was moved downstairs, through the station, and into an ambulance, which drove very slowly through the streets to avoid any unnecessary bumps. At the White House, the president’s secretary had taken charge from the moment he heard the news. Brown ordered that a room be prepared for Garfield’s arrival, secured the grounds, requested police protection, and set about issuing press passes so journalists could get timely information. When the ambulance arrived, Garfield was carried upstairs. His wife did not arrive until that evening, as there had been a mishap with her train and a second one had to be procured to take her the rest of the way. At the White House, she steeled herself before entering the president’s room and prepared to take over his care.
Millard continues the narration of Garfield’s care in this chapter, but she begins and ends with reference to Alexander Graham Bell. He had been in Boston when he heard the news and soon began thinking of ways to try to identify the location of the bullet using less crude methods than physically probing the wound. In fact, Millard states, if this had taken place only fifteen years later, Garfield would have access to an X-ray machine to reveal where the bullet was. In addition, in that short time, the antiseptic techniques of Lister, still disapproved of in much of the US in 1881, would be accepted. Going one step further, Millard argues that even if Garfield had received minimal or no care, he probably would have survived. She reminds the reader that many veterans of the Civil War at that time carried a bullet in their body, with the wound healing on its own. Ironically, because Garfield was such an important person, he received the best of care and lots of it. However, the care given was flawed.
For Dr. Bliss, Millard writes, the events of the day presented “a rare and heady intersection of medicine and political power–an opportunity for recognition he would never see again” (178). He had forcefully taken over the president’s care, isolating Garfield’s bed behind screens within the room he was resting in and restricting access to all but his closest friends and family. Bliss also, however, isolated Garfield from other doctors, including the president’s personal physician, Dr. Jedediah Hyde Baxter, who arrived the morning after the attack. When Bliss prevented Baxter from seeing Garfield, the two exchanged words. The argument escalated a bit, with Bliss’s son coming to his father’s defense, until Baxter decided to leave so as not to cause a disturbance outside Garfield’s room. After dispatching Baxter, Bliss then sent a letter to each of the physicians who had helped the previous day, informing them that the situation was under control and their services would no longer be needed. He would later state that Garfield and his wife had both asked him to lead the president’s care, only to be contradicted by Lucretia’s denial of this.
Lucretia, however, had two other doctors in mind, with whom she wanted to consult. The first was her own personal physician, Dr. Susan Ann Edson, who was well known by the family and had directed the first lady’s treatment only two months earlier. Lucretia also sent for Dr. Silas Boynton, a first cousin of Garfield and someone who had grown up with him. Bliss was unable to send them away as he had Baxter, but allowed them to stay only on the condition that they act in a nursing capacity and were not to be consulted in terms of treatment.
The chapter ends with Bell, back in Boston, finally lighting on an idea to find the bullet in Garfield’s body. When he had been working on his telephone four years earlier, he had discovered that telegraph wires caused interference in the telephone wires, which created a humming sound. By separating the two kinds of wires and placing them opposite each other, the sound disappeared. If any metal object were brought close to them, however, the sound returned. He surmised that if he applied the same technique to two sets of coiled wires, and moved them along Garfield’s body, the resulting sound would indicate the location of the bullet. He asked his assistant, Charles Sumner Tainter, to come up from Washington to help, and the two got to work.
This chapter moves the action to New York, where Vice President Chester Arthur learns of the president’s attempted murder. He was with Roscoe Conkling, both returning to the city from Albany, where they had been lobbying for Conkling’s former Senate seat, when Arthur was given a telegram. Conkling immediately took Arthur to the Fifth Avenue Hotel, where he had a suite of rooms, to strategize. The hotel was a hotbed of activity, with leading Republicans awaiting further news by telegraph and reporters looking for leads on the story of the day.
Many people across the country lamented the prospect of Arthur becoming president if Garfield were to die. While he was never considered presidential material, he was seen as a safe pick as vice president for political reasons, and Garfield seemed too healthy and strong for anyone to think about him possibly dying while in office. The concern was not only about Arthur’s lack of experience, but about the fact he was controlled by Conkling, whose stature and power would immediately rise with Arthur as president. Given that Conkling was Garfield’s primary enemy within the party and considering his strong attacks on the president just before the shooting, rumors began to spread that Conkling was actually behind the attack, with Guiteau simply doing the dirty work. In the midst of such talk, Conkling had police posted outside his door at the hotel.
In this third section, the shortest of the four, Millard concentrates on the immediate aftermath of Garfield’s shooting and the beginning of his medical care. From the emergency care given the president at the train station itself to Garfield’s return to the White House to convalesce and Lucretia’s return from New Jersey, the focus seems to be on how events took place to set up Garfield’s care in the long run and led to the decisions that were made. Often, in crisis situations like this, things happen fast, and sometimes randomly, that establish a pattern or a chain of command that dictate later events. Willard examines this to determine the one factor that would play the largest role in Garfield’s recovery or demise: how Dr. Bliss came to lead and control the president’s medical care. Bliss was not chosen by Garfield’s family or anyone in the government, nor was he the first doctor on the scene. Instead, it was Robert Todd Lincoln who thought to seek him out since he had helped care for Lincoln’s father when he had been shot. Once Bliss arrived on the scene, he just took control and, whether because of his age, standing in the medical community, or sheer demeanor, other doctors ultimately deferred to him. Millard writes:
In the chaos and confusion that marked the first hours after the president was shot, Bliss’s complete confidence in his position convinced even his most determined competitors that he had been given full authority over Garfield’s case (179).
Millard argues that because this was such a high-profile case and because of Bliss’s past troubles with the medical establishment, he was determined to strictly follow medical orthodoxy in caring for Garfield. Part of this entailed a rejection of Lister’s theories on antisepsis. At the time, American medical practices involved methods that would today be considered unsanitary. Bliss also consulted two members of that establishment—Dr. David Hayes Agnew and Dr. Frank Hamilton—both of whom had rejected Lister’s ideas at the 1876 Centennial Exhibition. All three were supremely confident in their methods and in the president’s prognosis for recovery.
At the same time, Millard prepares the reader for the possibility of an Arthur presidency if Garfield were to die. When the vice president learns of the shooting, he is with Roscoe Conkling in New York City. That scene foreshadows what a post-Garfield political landscape might look like: Conkling, temporarily weakened by his impetuous resignation, would likely return to politics as “the power behind the throne,” so to speak, if his protégé became president. Thus, it’s all the more surprising later in the book when we learn that’s not how it turns out and that Arthur becomes his own man, spurning his former patron.
By Candice Millard