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· 21 · 3 Dr. McFarland, of the Illinois Insane Asylum, who came here at the twelfth hourtotestifyforthedefensethatGuiteauisinsane,had,itwasstatedincourt, noothergroundsforhistestimonythanthefactthathehadreadthecaseinthe newspapers, and had some knowledge of the peculiarities of Guiteau’s father. —Chicago Tribune, January 5, 1882 The last day of June 1882 was forever linked to the fate of presidential assassin, Charles Guiteau. on that Friday, June 30, his countrymen were awaiting news of his hanging in the nation’s capital. six months earlier, Guiteau had been tried and convicted of the shooting death of President Garfield. During the previous summer, the man had entered the train depot in Washington, D.C., walked up to within three feet of the president and unloaded two bullets into his side. Amazingly, even at that close range, his aim was flawed. Consequently, Garfield had lingered for almost three months before infection finally claimed him. Now the Friday evening papers were expected to confirm what nearly everyone believed was a just and fitting end to the man responsible—nearly everyone, that is, except for one Dr. Andrew mcFarland, superintendent of the illinois state Hospital for the insane in Jacksonville. mcFarland had aspired to testify at Guiteau’s trial in January, stating that he knew the man to be insane—a conclusion he’d reached based on the fact that the assassin’s father, Luther, had been insane. The doctor firmly maintained this conviction, even though Luther had never been his patient. Now, it was possible that the younger Guiteau was, indeed, mentally unstable. At the very least, he was egotistical and bizarre. But ten eminent doctors had already examined the accused and presented their assessments of him at the trial. Their opinions were varied and inconclusive, but they had each grabbed a few minutes of fame by participating in the legendary case. However, mcFarland had been denied his chance to impress from the stand, thanks to Judge Walter Cox’s decision that the court had heard quite enough of the insanity debate. As a result, the sulking mcFarland decided to grant the Washington Post an interview. When asked about the mental condition of Luther Guiteau, the father of the accused, 22 · nameless indignities mcFarland’s response had reeked of arrogance: “Allow me to preface the answer with the remark at the opinion given by one or more of the gentleman who have testified as experts in the trial of Guiteau, that insanity is not hereditary is a most astounding one, coming from such a source, as it has long been recognized as an established fact, by the medical faculty . . . insanity is one of the most hereditary of all diseases.”1 The trial had dragged on for weeks, marked throughout by Guiteau’s brazen remarks and tedious grandstanding. He’d set the tone during jury selection, by instructing his lawyers to see that “no nigger be allowed on the jury.”2 over the course of the trial, everybody—especially the jury—had grown weary of the defendant . As to whether he was sane or not, his defense team had failed to sway the jurors with the combined testimonies of some top doctors. ultimately, the jury of eleven white men and one “colored man” had gotten the last word.3 on January 25, 1882, Charles Julius Guiteau was sentenced to swing from the end of a rope at high noon on Friday, June 30. After granting the interview to the Post, mcFarland, with his limelight rapidly fading, had decided there was no reason to stick around for the verdict. By the time the trial was over, he was already back at his regular post in Jacksonville , illinois, knowing he would get other chances to show off his expertise. one came a few weeks later, when he testified at C. W. stickney’s murder trial in Denver, Colorado.4 There, mcFarland labeled stickney’s “fits” as epilepsy. But when he tried to say that those fits were what drove stickney to commit the murder, his testimony was blocked. Thenarcissisticdoctor,itseems,hadapenchantforgettinghisnameintoprint, and not usually with a positive slant. in the 1860s, charges of “cruelty and oppression ” and “financial mismanagement” had tarnished his reputation as the head of the illinois Hospital for the insane.5 His name had also come up in connection to a nasty scandal involving a patient named mrs. elizabeth Packard. Committed against her will by her preacher husband—allegedly with mcFarland’s aid—she had made some serious allegations against the doctor who, in turn, had leveled some seamy accusations against her. eventually, a...
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