The Last Honors to President McKinley

It may be said quite literally that the world united in expressing grief and in paying homage in honor of William McKinley, for solemn services were held and marks of respect were shown in London (where the memorial exercises at St. Paul’s and in Westminster were both elaborate and beautiful) and in many other cities in Great Britain, in Paris, in Berlin, in other capital cities of the Continent, in South America, and in Asia. In this country, among all the tokens of grief and respect, none, perhaps, was more impressive than the total cessation for a few moments of traffic on land and water—railway trains, steamboats, elevated cars, ferryboats, in and about New York and in many other places came to a dead standstill; even the usually ceaseless click of the telegraph was for once hushed; everywhere in streets and on cars for the five minutes men were to be seen standing silent and motionless, with bared heads. Everywhere, too, in this land and in many others, the words of President McKinley’s favorite hymn, quoted by him when death was imminent, were sung with marked emotion. An account of the ceremonies on Tuesday at the National Capital from an eye-witness will be found elsewhere. This was the official National ceremony, but the day of interment at Canton, Thursday, was in fact the people’s day of mourning. In accordance with President Roosevelt’s proclamation, business was universally suspended, and the services in the churches of every denomination were very largely attended. Sports, races, exhibitions, theaters, and places of amusement were all but universally closed or postponed. A general comment was on the marked contrast between the genuine observance of the day as one of mourning, with the Sunday-like quiet that prevailed, and the too general non-observance or misobservance of set and formal fast-days where that institution still prevails. The decoration was even more extensive and elaborate than at the time of General Garfield’s death, and from the rich and costly draping of enormous buildings to the cheap print encircled with black calico on some cabin on a country cross-road the impression made was that not display or ostentation but honest sympathy promoted the act. At Canton the population was suddenly quadrupled by the incoming throngs. President Roosevelt, his Cabinet, and a large group of statesmen, generals, army and navy officers, diplomats, and distinguished friends of Mr. McKinley accompanied the funeral train from Washington. Crowds of silent citizen-mourners stood at every station on the way with uncovered heads. At the First Methodist Church in Canton, after prayers at the house, the services were conducted by the pastor, the Rev. Dr. Manchester. In the course of his address Dr. Manchester said: “Last Sunday, after our evening service here, three men in working clothes came into this room. They spoke only in a foreign tongue. They knelt down there at the altar-rail before the President’s picture, and their lips moved in prayer. The people loved him. He kept his soul pure and white before God and man. He never disappointed those who relied on him.” Mrs. McKinley’s physician decided that her condition would not allow her to attend the church services, but the people of the country rejoice that the terrible strain has not totally broken down Mrs. McKinley’s strength and life, and that her suffering and sorrow have not made her friends despair of her life, as was at one time feared. A great military and civic procession conducted the remains from the church to the grave, which lies in a beautiful spot to be marked later by [197][198] a fit memorial monument. We cannot here summarize or quote at length from the almost numberless tributes to Mr. McKinley’s character and worth from pulpit and press, but elsewhere in this issue of The Outlook will be found a few representative extracts which may well be added to those quoted last week, while attention may also be directed to the eloquent sermon preached on this occasion by Bishop Doane, which we are glad to be able to present in full.