The Monmouth inquirer. [volume] (Freehold, N.J.) 1865-1933, 1924-02-07


Dying Eyes Look Last on Ameri-
can Flag in Beak Of Gold Eagle
over Bed.
washington. The soul that fought
to set the world at peace is now at
peace itself.
Woodrow Wilson, twenty-eighth
President of the United States,
breathed his last at Ills Sunday
morning.
Unconscious for hours before the
end, his spirit passed from his worn
and weary body like breath Of gen
tie summer air at twilight.
Il am ready he had said, when
told that death was but few hours
away.
Thereafter he spoke no other word
about himself, but held in feeble
clasp the hand OF the woman who for
more than four long years has watch
ed and tended him, Edith Boiling Gait
Wilson, now the widow of Presi-
dent.
silent mournful, praying throng
had gathered in S street, outside the
house that had been Woodrow Will
sons home since March 4, 1921, when
he left the White House, broken in
body. defeated in political struggle
but still proud and defiant in spirit,
convinced that some day the people
of his country would see things as he
saw them.
KneeI in Prayer
This throng had been there since
early dawn, growing slowly until eve
ming it chokes the street. A knot of
men and women had been there
through the night, waiting for the
morning bulletin, hoping against hope
some change might come for the bet
ter.
Early churchgoers returning home
ward stopped to add to the whisper
ing crowd. A man knelt in prayer,
others knelt and prayed also, those
who crossed themselves and those
who did not.
A woman came along, bearing in her
hand a single white lily. At the door
CT the house Of sickness she stopped
and left the flower. Newspapermen
turned to ask her name and then for
got her
Out of the door Of the house was
walking a man down whose cheeks
tears was streaming. In his hand he
held a little yellow paper, familiar
token OF another bulletin.
The last previous one had been
gwen out by the same man at $50, to
the effect that the patient within was
unconscious and about to die.
DIR. Grayson,H whispered the crowd
as the sobbing man emerged through
the doorway. And he 1t was, DR.. Cary
t. Grayson, who for many years had
been Woodrow Wilson's medical aid.
With bowed head Dr. Grayson
handed the final bulletin to the wait
ing reporters. It read:
Mr.. Wilson died at 1915 this
morning His heart muscle was so
fatigued that it refused to act any
longed. The end came peacefully"
Out in the street the news few from
mouth to mouth, from eye to eye.
Down on their knees again went men
and women and prayers arose from
lips that trembled with emotion.
No desert telegraph among the
Arabs ever travelled so quickly as the
news that Woodrow Wilson was no
more. All Washington seemed to
know it by instinct and all Washing
ION came to pay its respects.
Public Funeral Urged
President Coolidge and Mrs Cool
idge drove from the White House to
street within an hour and left cards
expressing their sympathy. Through
his secretary, C, Bascom Slemp. the
President sent word to Mrs Wilson
that her wishes would be consulted
absolutely in everything pertaining to
the funeral arrangements and that not
only the President but the nation it.
self stood ready with all the services
at command
A public funeral with burial in the
National Cemetery at Arlington, be-
side the grave of the Unknown Sol
der. to whom Woodrow Wilson ten
dered such eloquent tribute, had been
urged
Whether Mr. Wilson had expressed
any personal inclinations concerning
the disposition o. his body is net yet
known.
Joseph Wilson. his brother, and
Randolph Boiling, nephew of Mrs.
Wilson. came quickly to the house and
relieved Mrs Wilson Of the details of
her sad task. With DR. Grayson, they
will have charge of the funeral ar
rangements.
Inside the house. Mrs. Wilson and
Margaret Wilson, daughter Of the
dead. stood heartbsoken at the bier.
The body which had been Wilson's
lay on a great four poster bed. replica
of the one in which he slept in the
White House. which was the bed In
which Abraham Lincoln slept when