Anarchy's Exalted Victim: Exposition Hospital and Cortelyou

A young girl had just been greeted, and the President turned with a smile to the newcomer, extending his right hand to grasp the left of the man before him. At that instant the throng in the temple was startled by the sound of two pistol shots, so close together as to be almost simultaneous. At the same moment the President staggered backward, with pallid face, and a fierce commotion began at the spot where he had stood. The stranger had suddenly held a pistol almost against his breast and fired two shots in rapid succession.

Before he could fire again the secret-service men flung themselves upon him, bearing him to the floor. It was stated that a negro named Parker, who was near the assassin in the line, was the first to strike him and seize his pistol hand, but this was discredited by the evidence at the assassin's trial. In truth, the commotion and excitement were so great that the exact details of the struggle were difficult to obtain, and several conflicting stories were told. All that can be said with assurance is that the assailant was hurled to the floor, the pistol struck from his hand, and blows rained upon him by the infuriated detectives and soldiers. Then the multitude began to realize the significance of the scene, and a murmur arose, spread and swelled to a hum of confusion, then grew to a pandemonium of noises. The crowds that a moment before had stood mute and motionless as in bewildered ignorance of the enormity of the thing, now with a single impulse surged forward, while a hoarse cry swelled up from a thousand throats and a thousand men rushed forward to lay hands upon the perpetrator of the crime. For a moment the confusion was terrible.

Inside on a slightly raised rostrum was enacted within those few feverish moments a tragic incident, so dramatic in character, so thrilling in its intensity, that few who looked on will ever be able to give a succinct account of what really did transpire. Even the actors who were playing the principal roles came out of it with blanched faces, trembling limbs and throbbing hearts, while their minds were filled with a tumult of conflicting emotions, which could not be classified into a lucid narrative of events as they really happened.

While the struggle was going on the wounded President was assisted to a chair by Mr. Milburn and his secretary. His face was very white, but he made no outcry and sank back with one hand holding his abdomen and the other fumbling at his breast. His eyes were open, and he was clearly conscious of all that had happened.

He looked up into President Milburn's face and gasped "Cortelyou." The President's secretary bent over him. "Cortelyou," said the President, "my wife. Be careful about her. Don't let her know."

Moved by pain he writhed to the left, and then his eyes fell on the prostrate form of his would-be-murderer, who lay on the floor, helpless beneath the blows of the guard. The President raised his right hand and placed it on the shoulder of his secretary. "Let no one hurt him," he said, and then sank back in the chair.

Cortelyou ordered the guard to take the assassin out of the President's sight. The outer garments of the wounded man were then hastily loosened, and when a crimson stream was seen flowing down his breast and leaving its telltale stain upon the white surface of the linen, the fears of those around him were confirmed.

An ambulance from the Exposition Hospital was summoned immediately and the President, still conscious, sank upon the stretcher. Secretary Cortelyou and Mr. Milburn rode with him in the ambulance, and in nine minutes after the shooting the President lay in the Exposition Hospital, awaiting the arrival of surgeons, who had been summoned from all parts of the city and by special train from Niagara Falls.

The President continued conscious and conversed with Mr. Cortelyou and Mr. Milburn on his way to the hospital.

"I am sorry," he said, "to have been the cause of trouble to the Exposition."

The character of President McKinley was clearly conveyed in the first three remarks uttered by him. None of these referred to himself; the first having in view the distress of his wife, the second the safety of his assailant, the third the good of the Exposition. It was a manifestation of unselfishness such as has seldom been witnessed under such circumstances.

Meanwhile the assassin had been removed into a side room of the Temple. Here he was searched, but nothing of importance was found upon him. When first questioned he remained silent, but finally gave his name as Neiman and said that he came from Detroit. He further declared that he was an Anarchist and said that he had only done his duty. It was subsequently learned that his true name was Leon Czolgosz, and that he was a resident of Cleveland, of Polish descent, though born in America. The excitement of the multitude was now taking the form of a desire to lynch the murderer, and it was with no small difficulty that the police forced their way with their prisoner through the infuriated multitude, and conveyed him to a cell at the police headquarters.