GETS BACK INTO CAMPAIGN.
October 17, convinced that he was beyond all possible
danger, Col. Roosevelt resumed the active campaign from his sick room in
Mercy Hospital by dictating a statement in which he requested his
political opponents to continue the fight as if nothing had happened to
him.
The colonel awoke feeling as he expressed it, "like a
bull moose." In the afternoon he overcame Mrs. Roosevelt's objections to
work long enough to send for Stenographer Martin and dictate the
statement that put him back into politics.
Then he answered dispatches from President Taft,
Cardinal Gibbons, and several other of those who had sent messages of
sympathy.
He carefully reread the dispatch from President Taft
and dictated this reply:
To Cardinal Gibbons he sent this:
His statement dictated to Stenographer Martin asking
the campaign to continue despite Schrank's shot was as follows:
The governor hastened to the hospital and conferred
with Roosevelt for an hour. The ex-President urged upon Johnson that he
return to California to hold his office as governor. Johnson had two
years to serve of his term and under the law he would forfeit the
governorship if he did not get back. The law there provides that no
governor shall absent himself from office for more than two months
running. Johnson had been away all but a few days of that period.
"Governor, I realize the sacrifice you have made in
keeping so long away from your office," began the colonel, in serious
tone. "I am told that if you do not hurry back they will take the
governorship away from you. Now, I want you to go back. Leave the
campaign to me. I can handle it all right. Soon I'm going out on the
stump and I'll lead the fight myself."
Gov. Johnson marveled at the bold idea that Roosevelt,
convalescing from the bullet wound, would take command again.
"You can't do it, colonel," he protested. "You will
need to build up your strength. I won't——"
"Fiddlesticks," interrupted the colonel. "You'll do
what I say. I never felt any stronger in my life. It's all a matter of
being able to breathe easier with this splintered rib. That won't bother
me more than a few days. Then they can't hold me back."
"I'm needed," he went on. "I'm going to let them take
the governorship. I'll resign."
Leaning out from the arm chair in which he sat,
Roosevelt whacked his right fist down on the table before him. A sharp
pain went through the breast pierced by the bullet.
"I tell you, governor, you'll not do it," fairly
cried the colonel, so vehemently that Mrs. Roosevelt, in the next room,
stepped to the doorway.
"You must be quiet, Theodore," spoke Mrs. Roosevelt,
lifting a warning finger.
"Yes, that's right," agreed the colonel, "but the
governor here is recalcitrant and I've got to speak roughly to him."
After a brisk interchange of opinion as to the
feasibility of the governor giving up the campaign the two violently
taking opposite sides, bidding the colonel an affectionate good-bye, Gov.
Johnson left the hospital. As he passed out to an automobile, Johnson
said he had promised the colonel to talk the matter over with other
leaders before deciding what to do.
"He insists that I return to California and I insist
I won't," explained the governor. "We couldn't agree."
Later Gov. Johnson conferred at his hotel with
William Allen White, Francis J. Heney and other Bull Moose leaders. The
governor was obdurate in his decision to stick in the race.
"Col. Roosevelt is in no shape to take up the
responsibility," he maintained. "It is but an evidence of his
magnanimity that he urges me to return to California. I'd rather lost
the job than desert the colonel now."
Attorney General U. S. Webb of California on October
20 issued the following opinion, however, which did away with
possibility of Gov. Johnson losing his office:
"There is a code section in the
state limiting the absence of the governor and other officials from the
state to sixty days, but the legislature of 1911 by resolution, removed
the limitations on the governor and other high state officials. In
addition to that the constitution of the United States specifically
provides the conditions under which a state official may be removed, and
it does not include this particular condition. There is no reason why
Gov. Johnson cannot remain outside the state as long as he sees fit and
there is nothing the legislature can do to remove him for remaining away
more than sixty days."
BACK AT SAGAMORE HILL.
The trip of ex-President Roosevelt from Mercy
Hospital, Chicago, to his home at Oyster Bay, beginning the morning of
October 21 over the Pennsylvania road is described here by one of the
correspondents who traveled with him. Under date of October 21, he wrote
at Pittsburg, Pa.:
"On a mellow autumn day whose warmth seemed to
breathe a tender sympathy, Col. Roosevelt traveled from Chicago today on
his way to Oyster Bay on the most extraordinary trip ever undertaken by
a candidate for the presidency.
"Unable because of sheer weakness to show himself on
the platform of his private car, the stricken Bull Moose leader, with
blinds drawn in his stateroom, listened with throbbing heart to the soft
murmuring of eager throngs as they clustered at the stations along the
way. As the train rolled into Pittsburg tonight the colonel, shaken up
by the jostling of the train, meekly confessed to Dr. Alexander Lambert,
his New York physician, who with Dr. Scurry Terrell, are making the trip
with him, that he was 'tired out.'
"'I'm going to put in a sound night of sleep,' he
sighed, 'I'll be all right again in the morning.'
"The bullet nestling in the colonel's chest and the
splintered rib gave him more discomfort than the wounded leader had
counted on. As the train jolted at times the ex-President experienced
piercing pain. But he bore it without a whimper.
"When night came the physicians agreed that although
the tumbling of the train had caused the colonel more worry than he
would admit, he would suffer no ill effects.
"The ex-President's leisurely jaunt through Ohio, for
he is running upon a twenty-four hour train, was in truth an occasion of
tragic quiet. The waiting throngs which half anticipated that they would
see the plucky third party fighter walk out onto platform of his car,
stood in a respectful attitude as they learned that the colonel was
unable to see them.
"Almost the whole day the ex-President lay on a soft
bed in his state room, reading, or when that grew irksome, dropping into
restful slumber. Outside of his family, his stenographer, John Martin
and the latter's wife, who boarded the train at Lima, the colonel saw no
one. He asked for quiet, feeling himself that he needed to conserve all
the strength at his command for the long run to Oyster Bay.
"The ex-President started his jaunt homeward by
fooling the newspaper men in Chicago. At Mercy Hospital the tip was
allowed to filter out that the colonel would climb into an automobile at
the front entrance. Camera men adjusted their machines and a flock of
newspaper men waited.
"Instead, the ex-President was wheeled to a side door
to an automobile ambulance, into which he pulled himself.
"'I fooled them that time,' chuckled the colonel to
Dr. Lambert, who climbed in after him.
"While the colonel was driven to the train, Mrs.
Roosevelt, Miss Ethel and Theodore, Jr., took an automobile. So as to
avoid the crowd at the Pennsylvania depot, the ambulance was taken to
the train by way of a yard, the colonel's private car being drawn up for
it. Only a few yardmen were there to salute the colonel as he stepped
from the ambulance. They raised their hats and one of them cried:
"'Colonel, good luck to you!' Roosevelt lifted his
right hand to his hat and gave a military salute."
Concerning the ex-President's appearance in Madison
Square Garden, New York, on the night of October 30, a press dispatch
said:
"Bearing no outward sign of the bullet in his breast,
Theodore Roosevelt tonight hurled himself back into the campaign at
Madison Square Garden. He spoke for forty minutes to the biggest meeting
he has ever addressed in New York and to one of the greatest gatherings
ever seen in that historic auditorium.
"More than 15,000 men and women welcomed him. Another
vast crowd waited all evening outside in the hope that they might catch
a word or two from the colonel as he departed. They were disappointed,
for his physicians, fearing too great a tax on his strength, refused to
permit him to make more than one address.
"The crowd inside cheered for forty minutes when
Roosevelt, at twenty minutes past 9 o'clock led his guards into the
Garden, climbed the steps to the speaker's gallery and stood before them.
Bandannas and American flags waved like a moving forest, the shouts of
the crowd and the drumming of thousands of heels on the floor drowned
the band and every air that has been sung in the campaign from 'Everybody's
Doin' It' to 'Onward, Christian Soldiers,' boomed forth when the
enthusiasts, wearied of plain cheering, of mooing like the moose, or of
yelling: 'We want Teddy! We want Teddy!'
"The great hall whose galleries and arched ceiling
were completely hidden with bunting and huge flags, made a marvelous
picture as the colonel, leaning over the speaker's rail, his teeth
snapping like a bulldog's, raised his left hand in first greeting.
"For three-quarters of an hour he stood there. Now
and then recognizing a friend he would make a dash to the other end of
the stand, a distance of twenty feet and wave his hand—always his left—in
greeting.
"As he faced first to the left, then to the right, he
awakened successive outbursts of cheers, and bandannas and flags were
set in motion by sections, till red flushes ran over the crowd like
waves.
"The colonel's speech was pitched in a solemn and
impressive key. He made no direct allusion to the attack upon him. He
made no attack upon any individual among his political foes. He named no
names save those of Washington, Lincoln, Jefferson and Jackson.
"Deliberately avoiding the line of advance, which was
punctuated with applause, he appealed for the votes of his auditors for
the progressive cause, making no reference to himself and none to his
achievements.
"With cheeks thinner than they were before the attack
upon him, but with a brilliant color, with figure sturdy and erect, and
with a voice that reached to every part of the hall, and never once
cracked into the falsetto squeak that often characterizes it, the
colonel seemed the picture of health. Not at all while he was speaking
did he smile. All his gestures, save one or two were made with his left
hand which, being farthest removed from the bullet wound, could be moved
with impunity.
"Once or twice toward the end he brought his right
hand down with a resounding slap on the rail of the speakers stand, but
his face gave no indication that the gesture caused him pain. The
flashlights which were set off at intervals during the address he faced
without wincing.
"Col. Roosevelt was preceded by Senator Dixon, who
presided, by Oscar Straus, candidate for governor in New York, and by
Governor Johnson of California."
"Col. Roosevelt's physicians went into his state room
to see him soon after the train left Englewood. They found him
contentedly reading:
"'Col. Roosevelt is resting well and is very
comfortable.'
"So well, indeed, was the ex-President that the
doctor said he did not bother to take his pulse and temperature."
Col. Roosevelt arrived at Sagamore Hill at 10 o'clock
in the morning of October 22.
When the ex-President's physicians left him at dusk
they gave out this bulletin, impressing their insistence that Roosevelt
devote himself to solid rest:
Flowers sent to Sagamore Hill by the school children
of Nassau county were the only tokens of public welcome for the
homecoming.
When he arrived at Sagamore Hill the colonel's wound
was dressed and he went to bed at once, with instructions to remain
quiet all day. The physicians said the wound showed no ill effects from
the trip.
Col. Roosevelt and his secretaries were busy on the
train until late in the night of October 21, looking for an old speech
of the colonel's on the trusts. This speech had been the basis of recent
criticism by William J. Bryan, and after a secretary had unearthed it
and Col. Roosevelt had gone over it he said he intended to reply to Mr.
Byran's criticism either in a statement or in a speech.
ARREST, APPEARS IN COURT.
Within five minutes after he had fired the bullet
into ex-President Roosevelt's right side, John Flammang Schrank was on
his way in the auto police patrol to the central police station,
Milwaukee.
Those who overpowered Schrank were Elbert E. Martin,
Capt. A. O. Girard, Col. Cecil Lyon of Texas, Sergeant Albert Murray of
the Milwaukee police department and Detectives Harry Ridenour, Louis
Hartman and Valentine Skierawski of the Milwaukee police department.
The thousands who were in the vicinity of the
shooting clamored for Schrank's life.
Capt. Girard and Sergeant Murray fought off the crowd
and literally dragged Schrank into the Hotel Gilpatrick through the main
entrance, through the lobby and into the hotel kitchen.
Here Schrank was left in charge of Capt. Girard and
Herman Rollfink while Sergeant Murray telephoned the central police
station for the auto patrol. Upon its arrival Schrank was hustled into
it and taken to the central station.
Schrank having disappeared, the crowd about the hotel
hurried to the Auditorium. This vast building was filled to capacity,
9,000, and at least 15,000 were outside unable to even get to the doors,
which had been closed and locked by attendants at 8 o'clock.
When Schrank was first questioned at the central
station he declined to give his name. Within a short time, however,
under supervision of Chief John T. Janssen, he submitted to an
examination, which appears in full in another chapter.
One of the detectives, in his efforts to get hold of
Schrank, was carried down with Schrank beneath this struggling mass of
men.
When Schrank arrived at the central station he was
little the worse for his rough handling, except that his clothing was
badly soiled, his collar torn off and his hair disheveled. He looked as
though he were glad he had been rescued from the crowd crying for his
life.
Searched at the central station the following letter
was found in a coat pocket:
The following is the list: Mosely hotel, Charleston,
S. C.; Planters hotel, Augusta, Ga.; Childs' hotel, Atlanta, Ga.; Plaza
hotel, Birmingham, Ala.; Redmon hotel, Chattanooga, Tenn.; Third Avenue
hotel, Rome, Tenn.; Bismark hotel, Nashville, Tenn.; Station hotel,
Evansville, Ind., and the Normandy hotel, Louisville, Ky.
At 10:35 o'clock on the morning of October 15 Schrank
was taken to District court before Judge N. B. Neelen. He admitted that
he had fired the bullet which hit ex-President Roosevelt, and he was
bound over to the December term of Municipal court, with bail fixed at
$7,500. Bail was later raised to $15,000.
Before Schrank appeared in court District Attorney
Winifred C. Zabel said:
"So far as I have been able to determine from several
examinations, John Schrank is legally sane," declared District Attorney
W. C. Zabel, in discussing Theodore Roosevelt's would-be assassin,
yesterday.
"He has a perfect knowledge of right and wrong and
realizes that the act he committed was against the law. Medically he may
have a slight aberration, but only experts could determine that.
"Schrank will have as fair a trial under the law as
any other man. He has been given ample time in which to prepare his
case, and, if he does not engage an attorney himself, one will be
appointed to defend him."
At the suggestion of others, Judge Neelen ordered the
revolver and bullets taken to Dean R. E. W. Sommers, Marquette
university, for chemical analysis to determine whether the bullets were
poisoned.
Schrank seemed unconcerned over the crime he had
committed.
"You are charged with assault with intent to kill and
murder," said District Attorney Zabel. "What do you plead, guilty or not
guilty?"
"I am guilty," answered Schrank quietly.
The court then explained to Schrank that he was
charged with a serious offense, and had the right to ask for an
adjournment and time in which to obtain legal counsel and prepare a
defense.
"I understand that," said Schrank. "I plead guilty
and waive examination."
"Then you are bound over to the municipal court under
bonds of $5,000," said the court. Schrank was then asked if he wanted a
speedy trial.
"No, I don't want one at once," was the reply. "I
wish to have some time."
"We will give you plenty of time. You will be tried
during the December term of the Municipal court."
As Schrank was being led back to the prisoners' "pen,"
one of the newspaper men standing, remembering that President McKinley
died because of a poisoned bullet, reminded the court that it might be
well to have the bullets in Schrank's revolver chemically analyzed.
"Oh, if that's the case, it makes it much more
serious," said the court. "Infection might set in. I'll raise the bail
from $5,000 to $7,500."
A crowd of not more than 200 was seated in the
courtroom when Schrank's case was called, the general impression being
that he would not be examined before October 16. When his name was
called every one in the room pushed forward, and it was necessary for
the deputies and policemen to use force to push them back of the railing.
When in the "bullpen" Schrank's fellow prisoners
shrank away from him. They knew of his attempt to assassinate the former
president, and he was an outcast, even among his own kind.
He was led from the courtroom by Sheriff Arnold and a
special corps of deputies, the officials fearing violence, to the county
jail, where he was lodged in a cell on the first floor.
Schrank on his arrival in Milwaukee registered at the
Argyle hotel, 270 West Water street, and was assigned to room number 1.
He paid for his room in advance and was very seldom seen at the hotel
thereafter.
His meals, according to the clerk, he took outside.
The clerk said the only time the man was seen about the hotel was when
he walked in and out.
He was registered under the name of "Albert Ross,"
which name he has registered under in a number of hotels at which he
stopped while following Col. Roosevelt about the country.
Without a tremor in his voice and talking willingly
in the central station, Schrank unfolded the fact that he had at one
time been engaged to be married to Miss Elsie Ziegler, New York, one of
the victims of the General Slocum steamboat disaster, in which over a
thousand lives were lost.
As he spoke of the girl his voice softened and his
eyes sought the floor of his cell. His lips seemed to quiver slightly,
the first evidence of remorse since his arrest.
"She had nothing to do with it," he exclaimed. "She
was a beautiful girl and I want you to understand that her soul is
cleared from any part of this act."
The five sets of finger prints were taken by the
police at the request of police departments of other cities.
The warrant under which Schrank was arrested read as
follows:
"I did not intend to kill the citizen Roosevelt."
"Did you intend to kill the candidate Roosevelt?"
"I intended to kill Theodore Roosevelt, the third
termer," was the answer. "I did not want to kill the candidate of the
Progressive party. I shot Roosevelt as a warning to other third termers."
"There we have it," broke in the court, and Schrank
was told that he might take his seat.
District Attorney Zabel moved that the court either
appoint a commission of alienists to examine Schrank or have him tried
before a jury. Judge Backus announced that he would appoint a commission
of five experts at 2 o'clock, and took a recess, ordering the deputies
to take Schrank back to the county jail. As the prisoner arose to leave
many of those in the courtroom rushed for the door, but all fell back
when the court said:
"Let no man leave the courtroom until the prisoner
has left the city hall."
At the afternoon session Schrank was simply brought
in and allowed to sit at one of the tables. When the physicians who are
to examine him arose to be sworn, he eyed them curiously, but evinced no
outward signs of emotion.
The court allowed the alienists as much time as they
desired to make the examination of the prisoner, and ordered the sheriff
to allow them to see Schrank whenever they wished. The prisoner also was
given an opportunity to confer with his attorney.
The decision which the alienists were to reach, as
ordered by the court, was whether "the defendant, John Schrank, is sane
at the present time."
District Attorney Zabel announced that the following
had been subpoenaed as witnesses: Detectives Louis Hartman, and
Valentine Skierawski; Dr. Robert G. Sayle and Dr. T. W. Williams,
Emergency hospital, who attended Col. Roosevelt; Capt. A. O. Girard and
John Campbell, Rescue Mission, an eyewitness.
Mr. Zabel received several letters and telegrams from
New York asking for leniency, and commending Schrank's action.
Several were sent with the request that they be
handed to the attorney who would defend the prisoner.
People all over the country sent letters to District
Attorney W. C. Zabel advising him how to handle Schrank.
"Think of all the brains that are uniting with mine
in trying to determine how to handle this case," said Mr. Zabel, with a
laugh. "And the best part of it is that it's not costing the city or
county a cent either. How do you like this one," handing over a letter
which said:
"For God's sake, don't let any Catholic priest get
near him."
Another said: "Hang him up by the thumbs. No
punishment is too horrible for such a man."
A third man looked with suspicion upon the Socialist
district attorney, and believed that he read something wrong in the
statement that Schrank would not be placed on trial immediately.
"Probably Schrank is not so crazy after all," this
man wrote. And then he insinuated that Schrank very carefully planned to
commit the deed in a state where there is no capital punishment and in a
county—the only one in the country—in which "there is a Socialist
district attorney."
Still another advised the district attorney to look
into the minutest details, as he saw some big rich and powerful
influence back of Schrank which had urged him on to the crime.
"These are only a few of the letters I received from
men who are probably in as bad a mental state as they seem to think
Schrank is," said the district attorney.
CHAPTER X.
SCHRANK DECLARED INSANE.
On November 22 Schrank was declared insane by the
five alienists who had examined him. He appeared in Municipal court and
was committed to the Northern Hospital for the Insane at Oshkosh, Wis.,
by Judge August C. Backus in the following order:
"Why didn't they give me my medicine right away,
instead of making me wait," he exclaimed bitterly as he was led to the
county jail. "I did it, and I am willing to stand the consequences of my
act.
"I want to say now that I am sane, and know what I am
doing all the time. I am not a lunatic, and never was one."
Schrank offered no defense. Before the judgment of
the court was pronounced he was asked if he had any statement to make.
"I have nothing to say," he said clearly.
While Judge Backus was reading the judgment, Schrank
sat with bowed head. His fingers twitched nervously, but otherwise he
gave no outward sign. As the deputy sheriffs led him away, he stopped
and insisted upon shaking hands with each one of the five alienists.
Although Schrank was not called to the witness stand
during the inquisition yesterday afternoon, District Attorney W. C.
Zabel introduced testimony to show Schrank's every movement in Milwaukee,
from the time he arrived until the time he shot Col. Roosevelt.
This testimony tended to show that Schrank "filled
up" on beer just before he committed the act, although each of the
witnesses insisted that he was not intoxicated at the time he did the
shooting. One policeman said that he was dazed, but was not intoxicated.
The testimony showed that Schrank spent the early
part of the evening he shot Col. Roosevelt in the saloon of Herman
Rollfink, 215 Third street, where he posed as a newspaper man "out on an
investigating trip."
"Schrank came into the saloon at 3 o'clock in the
afternoon and drank five or six beers," testified Paul Thume, a
bartender. "He told me he was a newspaper man, and to prove it, he
pointed to the newspapers in his pockets.
"We got to talking, and I told him I was going out
west to earn some money. He advised me to go south to make money. He
wanted a place to room, but when I recommended a room for $1 a day, he
kicked. Said he was willing to pay 75 cents.
"He came in again at 7 o'clock in the evening and we
talked some more. He then asked the bar musicians to play some song,
something with stripes in it, and then he bought each one a drink."
For the first time during the hearing, Schrank smiled.
It started in a broad smile, and then extended until it covered his
entire face. It developed that he asked the musicians to play the "Star
Spangled Banner," which the bartender described as a song having "stripes"
in it.
Schrank left the saloon only a few minutes before he
did the shooting, after having again treated all to drinks.
The testimony of the barkeeper was substantiated by
two musicians, Frank Galk and James Crawford, who said that Schrank
danced around while they were playing.
Herman Rollfink told how he jumped on Schrank after
the shooting and blocked the door to the kitchen in the hotel after
Schrank had been carried in there.
Capt. Alfred O. Girard said:
"I saw Schrank in the crowd just as I was getting
into Col. Roosevelt's automobile. I saw him as he raised the gun up
between two men. I saw the flash, and almost simultaneously, I sprang
upon him. After taking him into the hotel, we searched him, but found no
other weapons."
Three policemen were placed on the stand as witnesses,
and each one insisted that he was not detailed to service there, but had
been attracted to the spot by the crowd.
This tended to show that Col. Roosevelt had no police
protection while he was in Milwaukee.
Robert M. Lenten, clerk at the Argyle hotel,
recognized Schrank as the guest who signed his name as Albert Ross.
"He came to the hotel about 10:15 Sunday night and I
assigned him to room No. 1," he said. "He did not act unusual, and we
talked as I showed him to his room. The room is right above the
Milwaukee river, so I told him he had better keep away from the window,
if he didn't want to fall into the 'Wabash.' That's the name we give to
the river."
This struck Schrank as funny and he laughed again.
The report of the alienists was filed with the court
just before 10 o'clock in the morning. It included fifty pages of
typewritten matter, and its reading consumed nearly two hours. After the
report was read, the alienists were placed on the stand and questioned
by the district attorney.
Schrank listened to the reading of the report without
the slightest sign of interest, until the clerk read the findings
pronouncing him insane.
Schrank was taken to the Northern Hospital for the
Insane, Oshkosh, by Deputy Sheriff Richard Muldenhauer and Fred Becker,
bookkeeper in the sheriffs office, on the morning of November 25, at 11
o'clock.
The three left the sheriffs office in an automobile
shortly before 11 o'clock and arrived at the Chicago & Northwestern
depot, Milwaukee, a few minutes before train time.
Before leaving the jail Schrank asked for the sheriff
and thanked him for his kindness during his confinement in the county
jail. He also shook hands with Jailer Adam Roth and deputies who have
been with him during the trial.
Schrank's duties at the Northern Hospital for the
Insane and are light and remain so until the physicians of the hospital
have had ample time to observe him. |