Was Composed

The President’s Marvelous Self Possession.
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DR. WITHROW’S STORY
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His Presence at the Hospital Purely Accidental—Tells of Scene Following the Shooting.

     Dr. J. M. Withrow, of Cincinnati, who was at Buffalo with his family on the day of the shooting of the president, was among the first at the bedside of the wounded chief executive, and the impression of that scene is indelibly impressed upon his mind. His presence at the hospital was purely accidental, as Mrs. Withrow wanted to find a temporary place where she could rest prior to meeting her father, General Andrew Hickenlooper, the entire party intending to make a call upon the president when he returned to the Ohio building. Dr. Withrow is well acquainted with the physicians of the Emergency hospital of Buffalo, and he and Dr. Storer, of Chicago, who was also in the party, were talking together when the ambulance bearing Mr. McKinley rolled up. Preceding the stretcher bearers walked Secretary Cortelyou, and his greeting was:
     “Gentlemen, it is the president.”
     “At first,” said Dr. Withrow, while talking with a Cincinnati newspaper representative, “I thought that the president had been suddenly taken ill and I inquired as to his malady. ‘The president has been shot,’ said Mr. Cortelyou. Then

AN AWED SILENCE

fell upon the nurses and internes that stood around. Meanwhile he was carried to the operating room, an apartment about 15 by 20, and laid upon a bed. I followed into the room, having quickly told one of the internes to telephone for Drs. Mann and Park, not knowing at the time that the latter was at Niagara Falls. With the assistance of the nurses we removed the president’s clothing, and just then Dr. Mynter came in. Of all who were in that sick chamber Mr. McKinley was the most composed. There was not a tremor in his body, no excitement evidenced in his face, and I never saw a more marvelous self-possession in any human being. As I took his hand for the purpose of feeling the pulse it was as steady as my own, and when I asked him how he felt he answered composedly: ‘I am feeling well.’ I looked at his face again and again, but no change was perceptible, and I noted the pulse—it was just 90. From the impression I then gathered I believed that while he was badly hurt he would

EVENTUALLY RECOVER.

There was something in that countenance which told me that there was a large stock of energy to draw from in the struggle for life.
     “I then withdrew, leaving Secretary Cortelyou and Dr. Mynter in charge, and when I saw the latter again he showed me the bullet which had struck the president in the chest, glanced off against the sternum and was found in his undershirt. When I left the hospital I was dazed by the thought that such a man could be the target selected by a brute in disguise to wreak a vengeance conjured up by a distorted mind. As I lingered near I was surprised at the quiet that prevailed. The startling news had spread like wildfire, and even later, when the whole city knew of the tragic act, that section in the immediate vicinity of the hospital where the president lay was as quiet as the grave. No morbid mobs gathered, and it was not even necessary to guard the rear of the institution against intrusion. Then I marveled at the wonderful American good sense displayed, and in my heart thanked the people of Buffalo for the deference they had paid Mr. McKinley in his misfortune irrespective of how much they might differ with him politically.”