Doubleday—a
division of Random House, Inc., New York—of New York, London, Toronto, Sydney,
and Auckland releases a biography entitled Destiny
of the Republic: A Tale of Madness, Medicine, and the Murder of a President
by Candice Millard in 2011. It tells of
the assassination attempt on President James A. Garfield by the self-righteous
Charles Julius Guiteau, the botched medical care by Dr. Doctor Willard Bliss
(this is not a typo), and the obsessive determination of Alexander Graham Bell
to invent a mechanism to detect the location of the lodged bullet in President
Garfield’s body. Millard meticulously
reconstructs the events from diverse primary sources; includes a bibliography,
an index, acknowledgments, illustration credits, and notes; but does not cumber
the reader with distracting footnote numbers within the body of the text.
I
vaguely remember from AP American History that President Garfield was a dark
horse candidate and that he was shot in a train station. What is surprising is how little I suspected
about the drama behind the historical facts.
Millard goes behind the newspaper articles and diary entries to show
what happened at the 1880 Republican Convention in Chicago. President Garfield does not seek the presidency
like other candidates. He even tries to
halt efforts to vote him as the Republican candidate, but the convention votes
him in anyway. The way he deals with
this sudden popularity certainly categorizes his placement into the presidency
as a calling and not as an ambition to power.
My opinion of him grows more impressed as Millard describes his strong,
jocular, dedicated, grateful, and courageous attitude or personality. The best characteristic that I believe sets
him apart is this statement: “‘Of course I deprecate war,’ he wrote, ‘but if it
is brought to my door the bringer will find me at home’” (84).
The
people of the United States seem to like him too. From immigrants to pioneers and from freed
blacks to Southern whites, they stand behind President Garfield, especially
during the days he is bedridden after the assassination attempt. (This may explain why a county in Utah is
named after him.) “Since he had taken
office,” Millard states, “settlers, living on land they had cleared themselves
and which, every day, they fought to defend, had felt secure in one thing at
least, that they would not be forgotten in their nation’s capital” (182). I am sure the Mormon pioneers revered
President Garfield enough to name a county after him in his honor.
President
Garfield becomes such a likable fellow that the reader feels the heavy weight
of tragedy once Guiteau shoots him in the back.
Anyone with a good heart would fume at Guiteau depravity and immorality. But this sentiment gets overshadowed by the
archaic, almost barbarous, medical practices by the doctors who tried to save
President Garfield’s life. Something
that I have not learned from AP American History is that President Garfield
dies of blood poisoning, not from the bullet that is lodged behind his
pancreas. Several doctors and Dr. Bliss
constantly probe the bullet wound with unsterilized instruments and unsanitary
fingers. A contemporary reader cannot
but squirm in horror at the thought that “Although Bliss closely tracked the spikes
in the president’s temperature, the chills, restlessness, vomiting, pounding
heart, and profuse sweating, he either did not know, or refused to acknowledge,
that they were symptoms of severe septicemia” (215). Such treatment would be branded as extreme
medical malpractice today if not outright, negligent homicide.
Even
with such maddening passages as President Garfield’s medical treatment, there
are times of genuine human compassion and tenderness. Before President Garfield passes away, he
requests to be transported to a town on the New Jersey coast to see the
ocean. Railroad tracks are laid down
specifically to bring President Garfield to his intended beach cottage. “Before the train could reach its final
destination, however, it stopped short. The
cottage sat at the top of a hill, and the engine was not strong enough to
breach it. No sooner had the problem
become apparent than, out of the crowd of people who had waited all day in the
tremendous heat for Garfield’s arrival, two hundred men ran forward to help”
(226). The men pushed the cars of the train
up the hill to the cottage. This humble
and charitable act of selflessness should not be forgotten.
Questions
come to mind about the possibility of President Garfield’s survival and
Guiteau’s mistrial in today’s world. Had
President Garfield survived, Guiteau would have been charged with attempted
murder instead of the assassination of a president. Had President Garfield received the archaic
medical treatment today and died, Guiteau would have had a strong defense that
the doctors killed President Garfield, not he.
With the help of expert witnesses, he could have received an
acquittal. He may also have had a better
chance from a mistrial, because the voir dire of the jurors resulted in a biased
jury (see page 238). For better or for
worse, Guiteau gets convicted and is hanged, not by a twenty-first century
court, but by a nineteenth century one.
Millard
does an excellent job weaving the historical facts into a thrilling and
educational story. Her narrative is able
to stir my emotions at the right times and in the right way. I recommend this book to anyone, child and
adult alike. Parents that want to shield
children with weak constitutions from certain influences should know that there are descriptions of
medical gore in this book. Other than
that, the reading should be a profitable one.
I would especially like to see an adaptation of this book projected onto
the silver screen, if the opportunity comes up.
Andrew
I bought this last week...hope to read it over the Christmas school break when the kids are home.
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