As Roosevelt rose, another messenger thrust a wet, ink-stained newspaper into his hand.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” he began, and in his first words there was a sense of impending danger, “for reasons of the utmost importance I shall not deliver the speech that I have prepared. I have a brief message, a very grave message, that will reach your hearts more surely than any words of mine. The deliberations of this great gathering have been taken out of our hands. We have nothing more to discuss, for Almighty God has spoken!
“My friends, the great man who was with us but now, the President of the United States, has been assassinated.”
No words can describe the scene that followed. A moment of smiting silence, then madness, hysteria, women fainting, men clamouring and cursing, and finally a vast upsurging of quickened souls, as the organ pealed forth: “My Country, ‘Tis of Thee,” and forty thousand Americans rose and sang their hearts out.
Then, in a silence of death, Roosevelt spoke again:
“Listen to the last words of the President of the United States: ‘_The Union! The Flag!_’ That is what he lived for and died for, that is what he loved. ‘_The Union! The Flag!_’
“My friends, they say patriotism is dead in this land. They say we are eaten up with love of money, tainted with a yellow streak that makes us afraid to fight. It’s a lie! I am ready to give every dollar I have in the world to help save this nation and it’s the same with you men. Am I right?”
A roar of shouts and hysterical yells shook the building.
“I am sixty years old, but I’ll fight in the trenches with my four sons beside me and you men will do the same. Am I right?”
Again came a roar that could be heard across Chicago.
“We all make mistakes. I do nothing but make mistakes, but I’m sorry. I have said hard things about public men, especially about German-Americans, but I’m sorry.”
With a noble gesture he turned to Bernard Ridder, who sprang to meet him, his eyes blazing with loyalty.
“There are no German-Americans!” shouted Ridder. “We’re all Americans! Americans!”
He clasped Roosevelt’s hand while the audience shouted its delight.
Quick on his feet came Charles Edward Russell, fired with the same resistless patriotism.
“There are no more socialists!” he cried. “No more proletariat! We’re all Americans! We’ll all fight for the Union and the old flag! _You too!_”