|
Ida Saxton McKinley
Invalid First Lady
By Anne Adams
There have
been several First Ladies who were invalids
and because of that made only a few public
appearances while their husbands were in
office. Yet when we identify Ida McKinley as
an invalid that is not what makes her
unique. What sets her apart was how though
afflicted by a condition that had to remain
a secret to prevent social shame; she
refused to remain secluded and tried as hard
as she could to carry out a full social
schedule. Yet despite all she accomplished
it is likely that she could not have had
done it without her husband’s devoted
commitment to her – a dedication that never
failed despite the fact that he was
President of the United States. .
Ida Saxton was
born in June, 1847 in Canton, Ohio, the
daughter of prosperous parents who
definitely believed in educating their
daughters. After graduating from a
Pennsylvania girls’ school, Mary and her
sister embarked on a long European tour.
However, while her sister Mary was anxious
to return home to marry her “beau,” Ida had
no definite future plans. To give her
something to do and also perhaps help her
learn how to manage the resources she would
eventually acquire, her father suggested she
go to work in his bank, the First National
of Canton. Though he may not have
considered it, Ida’s new position would help
her become acquainted with the single male
customers. One of these was William
McKinley.
Actually Ida
and McKinley had been previously acquainted,
first developing their friendship as they
met on Sunday mornings, walking to their
respective churches. As they began courting,
and their relationship grew more serious Ida
developed an intense passion for him even to
the point of jealousy. She could hardly
bear to be away from him or have him be late
for a meeting. McKinley was just several
years out of law school and while serving as
a local county prosecutor, he was also
building up a private law practice. Finally
he decided he could support a family and he
and Ida were married in January, 1871. They
moved into a house that was a gift from Mr.
Saxton.
Their first
daughter Katie was born in December, 1871,
and within a few months Ida was again
pregnant, but this time things did not go so
well. First her mother died, sending the
devoted daughter into nervous shock. Then
when their second daughter was born in
March, 1873 the baby only survived a few
months.
As she
recovered from all this, Ida also suffered
from phlebitis that made walking difficult
and painful. However, at the same time she
also developed a more serous nervous
condition that was determined to be
epilepsy. Medical science at the time could
not cure or even successfully explain
epilepsy, so because of this lack of
knowledge, as well as many misconceptions
about it, such a diagnosis meant the patient
and his or her family was socially
stigmatized. Because of this many families
kept the illness a closely guarded secret
and McKinley followed this practice.
Because Ida’s
“fits” or seizures could last just a few
seconds or be serious enough to put her into
a coma, McKinley responded to her condition
with a totally devoted commitment. This
meant that he not only provided the best
care for her but he also remained available
whenever she needed him. He learned what to
expect when a seizure became imminent and
was ready to quickly pull out a handkerchief
and drape it over her face, hiding her
gaping eyes and drooling lips. It was to
become a lifelong practice.
While Ida’s
epilepsy made such devoted attention vital
and because common knowledge of her
affliction would be detrimental to their
future, McKinley came to prefer people
thinking his devoted consideration of her
was done for sentimental reasons. He was so
successful with this pretense that not even
family members suspected the truth. There
was one story that when one of Ida’s nieces
heard the word epilepsy the immediately
assumed it was a slur from McKinley’s
political enemies. Medically, doctors of the
time could only reduce the severity of the
seizures with a sedative.
At age 26 Ida
was considered mentally and physically
disabled and dependent on not just the
sedatives but also on the totally devoted
care of her husband. She learned to expect
that he would rush home at the end of a
workday or remain at home if she was really
ill. While he made sure she had an
attendant at all times, he also stressed she
was to be humored and amused. It was the
response of a truly compassionate man as
they lived as normal a life as possible.
However, Ida’s
illness did not prevent them from both
seeking a legal and then a political career
for McKinley and in 1877 when he began his
first term in Congress Ida accompanied him
to Washington. Tragically their surviving
daughter Katie died at age four. There was
additional support from family friends
President and Mrs. Rutherford B. Hayes who
often invited them to the White House for
social events. Ida enjoyed social events, as
well as carriage rides with her attendant,
but was also content to stay at the hotel
where they lived. While McKinley was tending
to his congressional business and with her
attendant nearby, Ida contentedly
embroidered or crocheted or knitted
countless pairs of bedroom slippers – a
pastime she would continue all her life. In
fact later as First Lady she told a
senator’s wife that she had knitted some
3000 yarn slippers, each pair given to the
poor.
As Ida
approached middle age her physical condition
improved somewhat as McKinley left Congress
to run for governor of Ohio. When he was
elected in 1892 they took lodgings opposite
the State House in Columbus. The story goes
that she could see his office from her
window and he made it a habit to wave at her
from the window each afternoon at 3 p.m. and
she would flutter a handkerchief in return.
By 1896 as there grew interest in McKinley
as a presidential candidate, some of his
advisors expressed concern that Ida’s health
might present a problem. Reprotedly she
realized this and to prove she would not be
a detriment to her husband’s political plans
she planned a major social event. To
celebrate the McKinleys’ 25th
wedding anniversary, she put on a large
party with so many invited guests they had
to entertain them in two shifts because
their home was too small. Ida successfully
played hostess for 600 people over 6 hours.
Presidential
candidates at that time did not travel but
remained at home and their supporters came
to them. When McKinley did this it was
called the Front Porch Campaign since he
would address visitors as they surged around
their Canton home. Ida bore up well with
all the visitors and when McKinley was
elected, despite occasional bad spells she
did feel up to traveling to Chicago for a
Washington wardrobe.
Previous First
Ladies with medical problems or illnesses
had lived in secluded privacy without
criticism but Ida would not consider that
possibility. She intended to enjoy her time
as First Lady, although her health didn’t
always cooperate. This became evident at the
Inaugural Ball. After an exhausting day
with all the Inaugural events she suffered a
seizure while leading the Grand March at the
ball and was removed to a cloakroom
unconscious. When she woke up she was
returned to the White House.
There would be
more seizures, but if one occurred in the
midst of a reception the White House staff
learned to deftly and carefully assist her
out of the crowd and upstairs. She was
determined to follow her schedule as closely
as possible, even when making the
traditional entrance down the main staircase
at an event proved painful for her. At
state receptions she sat in a chair with her
hands folded, and nodded a greeting to
visitors as McKinley introduced them. At
state dinners, though the protocol officials
would have preferred to place guests
according to rank, McKinley insisted on
placing Ida next to him. This way he could
quickly cover her face with the ever-present
handkerchief in case of a seizure. One time
future president William Howard Taft was a
witness to this procedure when he was at a
formal dinner. He was chatting with McKinley
when he heard a hissing sound. The president
had already covered Ida’s face, and
continued his conversation as if nothing had
occurred. Her seizure over, Ida relaxed,
removed the handkerchief and resumed
conversing with Taft and her husband. Still,
despite the seizures, Ida good-humouredly
cooperated with the White House Staff as
they escorted her where necessary and
remained content amidst all the attention.
Late in
1898 Ida had a serious relapse after a
family tragedy. A discarded mistress
murdered Ida’s brother and after a
spectacular trial the woman was acquitted.
Ida had tried to ignore the scandal but
after the trial she suffered the most
serious seizure she had had for many
months. Then the next summer in 1899 she
developed a deep depression and McKinley
took her on various trips to help her
recover. He even took her back to Canton to
see their honeymoon house that he had
purchased for her. By that autumn of 1899
Ida had recovered.
Two years
later in 1901 after McKinley’s second
inaugural, they set out on a national tour.
However, Ida acquired an infection that made
her seriously ill and when the tour reached
San Francisco she lingered near death till
she recovered enough to return to
Washington, without completing the rest of
the tour. One of the cancelled stops was to
have been a Presidential visit to the
Pan-American Exposition in Buffalo, New
York. When Ida recovered enough to return to
Canton for a visit, McKinley decided to go
ahead with the Buffalo speech. Ida
accompanied him and enjoyed the sightseeing
at the Exposition.
McKinley’s
secretary, George Cortelyou, fearing that
the President might be in danger from
assassination by an anarchist, had removed
from the president’s schedule an appearance
at a reception at the Exposition. However,
the President insisted on appearing, but
tragically Cortelyou’s fears proved
correct. With a gun in his hand covered by
a handkerchief, Leon Czolgosz approached the
president as if to shake his hand and fired
at him. As he had his entire life McKinley’s
first thought was for Ida. “My wife,” the
mortally wounded president gasped to his
secretary, “Be careful, Cortelyou, how you
tell her – oh, be careful!”
McKinley would
succumb to an infection caused by the
bullet, but as he lingered for the next 8
days he was mostly concerned about Ida and
it was he who comforted her and not the
reverse. She sat by his bed for the few
minutes as she was allowed, clutching his
hand and when she was removed for a while
she waited in panic until she could return.
As the end neared the feverous McKinley
embraced her as best he could and weakly
recited the words of the old hymn “Nearer,
My God, to Thee.”
Ida was strong
enough to attend all the funeral and burial
services, and then returned to Canton. There
in the home of a sister she died in 1907.
It is often
proverbial that someone who has suffered has
a great sensitivity to others who struggle,
and such could have been the case with Ida
McKinley. A friend wrote about her: “Her
greatest charm was her perfect sincerity and
thoughtfulness for others. No day passed
over her head without her doing something
for someone…Her friends endeavor to keep
from her knowledge many instances of illness
or sorrow because she immediately makes a
personal matter of them and is untiring in
her interest until all is well again.”
|
