The Attempted Assassination of ex-President Theodore Roosevelt

In Short

This historical narrative chronicles the 1912 attempted assassination of Theodore Roosevelt by John Flammang Schrank. Composed in the immediate aftermath of the event, the book details the shooting, Roosevelt’s resilient decision to deliver his scheduled speech while wounded, and the subsequent legal proceedings that determined Schrank’s mental state. It serves as both a primary account of a transformative American moment and a snapshot of early 20th-century judicial procedures. By preserving the transcripts and medical reports of the era, the work offers a rare, unfiltered perspective on the intersection of political obsession and psychiatric evaluation in the Progressive Era.

The Story

The narrative begins on a tense evening in Milwaukee, where Theodore Roosevelt, campaigning for a third term, faces an assailant at the entrance of the Hotel Gilpatrick. John Flammang Schrank fires a single shot at close range. Only the intervention of a bystander—who strikes the gunman’s arm—and the obstruction provided by a bulky manuscript and a metal spectacle case in Roosevelt’s pocket prevent the bullet from piercing the ex-president’s heart. Despite the severity of the wound, Roosevelt insists on proceeding to the Milwaukee Auditorium. He addresses a bewildered crowd, revealing his blood-stained shirt and declaring that "it takes more than that to kill a bull moose." He speaks for over an hour, focusing on political policy rather than his own injury, before finally agreeing to medical intervention.

The book follows Roosevelt to the Johnston Emergency Hospital and then to Mercy Hospital in Chicago, where surgeons determine the bullet is lodged near a rib. Roosevelt’s recovery is swift, defined by his characteristic grit; he refuses a stretcher, mocks his own pain, and maintains his political vigor even from a sickbed. Meanwhile, the narrative shifts to the fate of the shooter. Schrank is swiftly apprehended and brought before the municipal court. The core of the legal proceedings centers on a commission of alienists—psychiatric experts—tasked with determining whether Schrank is legally sane.

Through detailed transcripts, the reader learns of Schrank’s twisted motivations. He claims to have been visited in a dream by the ghost of the late President William McKinley, who identified Roosevelt as his murderer. Schrank articulates a rigid, obsessive belief in "unwritten laws," particularly the tradition against a third presidential term, which he views as a threat to the republic comparable to the reign of Julius Caesar. He expresses no remorse, insisting his act was a patriotic necessity.

The legal arc concludes with the alienists’ report and the judicial ruling. Judge August C. Backus, seeking to avoid the common circus of conflicting expert testimony, employs a unique system where the physicians act as an auxiliary body to the court. This leads to the finding that Schrank is insane. The narrative documents the public reaction—ranging from calls for vengeance to requests for leniency—and reflects on the judicial efficiency of the Milwaukee court. The book ends by situating the trial as a model for handling cases where mental health, rather than innocence, is the primary issue, effectively closing the chapter on a singular moment of American political violence.

How It Unfolds

The encounter at the Gilpatrick The narrative opens with the sudden violence outside the hotel, describing the physical trajectory of the bullet as it passes through layers of clothing and manuscript. It captures the immediate chaos and the shooter’s swift arrest before he can vanish into the crowd.

The speech of the wounded man Roosevelt appears before a massive audience at the Auditorium, his blood-soaked shirt open to the crowd. He delivers a robust speech that prioritizes the Progressive cause over his personal survival, framing his endurance as a matter of civic duty.

The medical emergency The text follows Roosevelt’s transition from the stage to the operating table, highlighting his insistence on maintaining agency over his own care. Surgeons provide clinical bulletins that contrast sharply with the ex-president’s refusal to act like an invalid.

The court examines the mind The focus shifts to the judicial process in Milwaukee, where the state seeks to determine Schrank’s sanity. Through rigorous questioning, the district attorney uncovers the delusional landscape of the shooter’s motivations, including his visions of McKinley.

The verdict and the precedent The commission of alienists delivers its findings, confirming Schrank’s insanity. The book concludes by analyzing the legal mechanism used by the court, praising the efficiency of the trial and its potential as a benchmark for future judicial proceedings.

The People

Theodore Roosevelt dominates the narrative as the "greatest American of his time," a man whose identity is inseparable from his vigor. He views his own life as expendable in the face of political duty, refusing to allow a bullet to interrupt his campaign. His refusal to act the part of a victim—even while suffering from a physical wound—reveals a man driven by a relentless sense of purpose.

John Flammang Schrank acts as the narrative’s tragic, deranged mirror to Roosevelt. A former saloon keeper, he is fueled by a cocktail of political obsession, historical misinterpretation, and genuine delusion. He views himself not as a criminal, but as an avenger of tradition, specifically the unwritten law against a third presidential term. By the end of the proceedings, he is defined by his profound detachment from reality, his belief in ghostly visitations, and his conviction that he has performed a public service.

Judge August C. Backus stands as the voice of order and judicial innovation. Facing a case that could easily spiral into a spectacle of conflicting psychiatric testimony, he exerts firm control, creating an auxiliary court of experts to ensure a sober, efficient resolution. He represents the institutional response to extremism, seeking a path that values sanity and legal precision over the emotional volatility of the public.

In Its Own Voice

Describing his reaction to the attempt on his life while on the stage at the Milwaukee Auditorium, Roosevelt tells the crowd:

"I don't know whether you fully understand that I have just been shot, but it takes more than that to kill a bull moose."

Reflecting on his motivation for the crime during his court testimony, Schrank explains his view of the political landscape:

"A man that wants a third term has no right to live."

Defending the decision to use a special commission to evaluate the prisoner, the authors note the utility of the judge's approach:

"In many murder cases physicians have been heard swearing to contrary positions until the jurors, disgusted with the confusion of the testimony, have simply thrown up their hands."

What It's Really About

At its core, the book examines the dangerous fragility of political norms. It explores how the rhetoric of a campaign—frequently characterized by high-stakes warnings about the destruction of the republic—can be internalized by an unstable individual as a call to violence. The narrative probes the question of whether a political figure should be held responsible for the fanaticism they inadvertently inspire. Furthermore, it treats the "third term tradition" not as a mere political preference but as a psychological pillar for those who equate institutional stability with the very survival of the nation. Ultimately, the book is a study of how a democratic society processes an attack on its leadership, attempting to balance the impulse for retribution with the need for clinical, legal objective truth.

Why Read It Today

Readers interested in the history of the American presidency and the evolution of political violence will find this work invaluable. It offers an intimate, immediate look at Roosevelt’s legendary resilience, capturing the exact tone of a man who treated his own survival as a trivial footnote to his larger mission. The transcripts regarding Schrank provide a chillingly candid view of how ideological obsession manifests in the individual mind, making it a relevant read for those exploring the psychology of political radicalization.

The book does not shy away from the conventions of its time; the language and the period attitudes toward mental health and "alienists" are presented exactly as they were in 1912. Modern readers may find the legal terminology and the structure of the court proceedings to be a departure from contemporary true-crime narratives, which often prioritize drama over the dry procedural mechanics that define this account. However, those willing to engage with the period’s formal, sometimes long-winded style will be rewarded with a clear-eyed account of a moment when American politics collided with personal delusion. It remains a stark reminder of the thin line between spirited debate and the violent, irrational impulses that can arise when rhetoric is pushed to its absolute limits.