Destiny of the Republic is an excellent read – especially for someone like me, who rarely reads non-fiction and/or biographies. Candice Millard has written a book that is gripping from start to finish (well, almost – see below). I’m not sure there is anyone in the country who knew less about President Garfield than I did, before I read this book. One interesting thing I learned was that President Garfield was born and raised in Orange, Ohio, less than five miles from where I grew up, and later lived with his wife on their farm in Mentor, Ohio, about twenty miles from where I grew up. You would think that Ohio educators would proudly focus at least one small part of school curriculum on the man, but, unless I slept through that lesson, I never learned a thing about this President except maybe in passing reference to Presidents who were assassinated. Actually, eight of the forty-four Presidents to date, hailed from Ohio. This, too, I only learned now from a 30 second surf on Google!
I flew through the pages of this book, rivetted until the end. Almost gripping? My petty issue was that nearly half the book takes place over the last 70 days of his life, as Garfield lay dying in the White House after being shot by the certifiable lunatic, Charles Guiteau. The description of his dying days, while being treated by the best that medicine had to offer (IN THE U.S.), is painstakingly and horrifically detailed, and left this reader squirming, and thanking God that she was born and lived in a later century.
The beginning of the book provides a description on how Garfield's family came to live in Orange, his education, the death of his father and the fortitude of his mother who, widowed and impoverished, still managed to raise her children and instill a thirst for knowledge in her son. Before he finished school, Garfield took a job on the docks for a spell but after a harrowing near drowning experience he had a sudden epiphany and returned to his education, studying initially at Western Reserve Eclectic Institute at Hiram, and later returning to that college to teach. While studying he met Lucretia Randolph, the daughter of co-founder of the Western Reserve Eclectic, who was later to become his wife. The book also begins with a brief introduction to the character of Guiteau.
Garfield was a Union Army Officer during the Civil War, an Abolitionist, and while serving in Congress was an impassioned advocate for the black franchise (caveat / for the black male franchise). Millard described a brilliant, affable, and sociable man. There is an interesting, detailed description of his accidental and unwanted Presidential Nomination at the 1872 Republican Convention in Chicago, which he attended and was to speak for the Republican Presidential Nomination of the Secretary of the Treasury and former Ohio Senator, John Sherman. Garfield was extremely popular; he came from poor origins and was “of the people”. In a fascinating and dramatic turn of events, and despite his objection and staunch loyalty to Sherman, the Convention nominated Garfield without his ever putting in his bid or expressing any interest in the job!
The Republican Convention also introduces the devious political intrigues orchestrated by Garfield’s nemesis, Roscoe Conkling. The intriguing manipulations of this character are described throughout the book in titillating detail.
One of the most interesting sections of the book, for me, was at the beginning – just after a brief introduction to Guiteau, who was responsible for Garfield’s assassination, there is a description of Garfield’s attendance at the 1876 Centennial Science Exhibition in Philadelphia. The description of the exhibition is fascinating and included such inventions as Remington’s typewriter and Edison’s automated telegraph system. But I think the true purpose of introducing this historic event is primarily to introduce the reader to two major “players”, the one, Alexander Graham Bell who attended the Exhibition to showcase his invention (the precursor to the telephone as we know it), and the other, Joseph Lister, who came to lecture on the success of his antisepsis procedure which was almost universally rejected by the U.S. medical establishment:
“…many American doctors still dismissed not just his [Lister’s] discovery, but even Louis Pasteur’s. They found the notion of “invisible germs” to be ridiculous, and they refused to even consider the idea that they could be the cause of so much disease and death….Why go to all the trouble that antisepsis required simply to fight something that they could not see and did not believe existed….”
Notwithstanding the fact that this rejection was the cause of Garfield’s death (Guiteau pulled the trigger but the President died of the medical (mis)treatment that followed) – the quote rings somewhat true today, as we battle a current invisible, deadly virus as well as pandemic deniers.
If this was fiction, we would have called this foreshadowing, but the truth is that whether or not President Garfield would have succumbed to death from the bullet fired by Guiteau, it was Doctor Bliss who, solely entrusted with treating the President, killed him with his arrogance and ignorance.
And, so it was that Garfield served as the 20th President of the United Stated for barely four months before he was shot and assassinated by Charles Guiteau, a man who was considered deranged even by his own family. Garfield did not die immediately and did not die of the gunshot wound, but rather lingered on suffering from sepsis for two and half months before his death.
Guiteau, villain #1, shot the President on page 147 and from that point on until nearly the final pages of the book, the reader is exposed to the brutal and shocking medical treatment of villain #2, Doctor Bliss, considered to be the top in his field. Had Bliss employed the prevailing European method of Lister’s antisepsis, he might have saved the president but instead, he killed that poor man by poking his fingers and unsterile instruments into the wounds, futilely searching for the bullet (by the end, Garfield’s body was riddled with sepsis). Bliss, furthermore, eschewed any interference in his methods (including those of A.G. Bell), flatly rejected any challenging diagnoses, and allowed no one to examine Garfield anywhere other than where he deigned appropriate - where he claimed the bullet was lodged (he was wrong). Although Bell by this time was famous in his own right, and spent nearly every waking moment inventing a device that would discover the exact location of the bullet, Bliss restricted his examination to the (wrong) area of Garfield’s body where he believed the bullet had lodged. By this time, Bliss was terrified that he had failed in his treatment of Garfield and he held the treatment of the President close giving misleading reports to the press regarding his president’s true condition. Of course, the autopsy shocked the medical community and ruined Bliss professionally.
In conclusion, and to add a modicum of levity, if this was a work of fiction I would have described villain #1, Guiteau, as a deliciously flawed and unreliable character, a certifiable assassin, who suffered from chronic pecuniary deficit-itis which was compounded by sociopathic megalomania-itis. He not only fostered an unlimited number of get-rich schemes, including scamming clients with his a genuine copy of a fake law license (that latter is perhaps a bit harsh since, at the time, anyone who articled in a law office could get a license to practice law), but he also mooched off of friends and relatives, fled his debts by dodging landlords, and ticketlessly boarded trains thereby hitching a ride, gratis, only to be dropped off at the nearest station when he was discovered. Before performing the dastardly deed, Guiteau meticulously checked out the prison accommodations where he’d be held to see if they met with his satisfaction. His unbridled opinion of himself was so high and his penny so pinched that he offered the rights to his autobiography to the New York Herald including a personal note at the end, “I am looking for a wife…I want an elegant Christian lady of wealth under thirty, belonging to a first-class family…” Guiteau also used his autobiography to announce his bid for Presidency.
Guiteau was, among other things, a total nut case, suffered from delusions of grandeur, and mistook infamy for fame. His megalomania rantings annoyed everyone around him (including the judge at his trial). He was convicted and eventually hanged but not before one of his own prison guards was so fed up with his ranting that he attempted a Jack Ruby and failed.
4.5 stars rounded up.