âGreat deeds are imperishable; great names immortalâ¦. With Washington and Lincoln, Grant has an exalted place in history and the affections of the people. Today his memory is held in equal esteem by those whom he led to victory, and by those who accepted his generous terms of peace.â
Then Porter spoke, delivering in essence a lengthy eulogy for his friend and former boss.
There is a source of extreme gratification and a profound significance in the fact that there are in attendance here not only the soldiers who fought under the renowned defender of the Union cause, but the leaders of armies who fought against him, united in testifying to the esteem and respect which he commanded from friend and foe alike. This grateful duty which we discharge this day is not unmixed withsadness, for the occasion brings vividly to mind the fatal day on which his generous heart ceased to beat, and recalls the grief which fell upon the American people with a sense of pain which was akin to the sorrow of a personal bereavement. And yet it is not an equal occasion for tears, not a time to chant requiems or display the sable draperies of public mourning. He who lies with the portals of yonder tomb is not a dead memory. He is a living reality.â
When Porter finished, he formally turned over the monument to Mayor Strong, who spoke for a few minutes; the speakers retired briefly to the food tent before moving on to the parade reviewing stand, and then to a quick meal at the Claremont Restaurant. Afterward, McKinley, Porter, and other dignitaries made their way on foot to West 129th Street and then down steps to a river pier where the presidential yacht, the USS
Dolphin,
was tied up. They steamed out onto the river where they were greeted by cannon salutes from the warships and horn blasts from the working and pleasure craft. The
Dolphin
returned its own volley of a 21-gun salute and began moving south with the current as McKinley reviewed the gathered warships, which included the USS
Maine
and two Spanish warships, the
Infanta Maria Teresa
and the
Infanta Isabel.
Nine months later, the
Maine
would explode and sink in Havana harbor, ushering in the Spanish-American War, which would dominate Porterâs first year as ambassador to France. The
Infanta Maria Teresa
would be heavily damaged in the Battle of Santiago de Cuba, and the
Infanta Isabel
would be the only Spanish warship engaged in the hundred-day confrontation to emerge unscathed.
After the tour, the
Dolphin
docked at a pier at West Fifty-Second Street, where McKinley and Porter boarded a carriage back to the Windsor Hotel, arriving a little before seven oâclock, for a short rest. A couple of hours later they arrived together at a gala at the Union League building, which they had passed to such cheers on their way to the monument. As the rich and powerful dined and danced late into the night, bonfires ringed by the less wealthy burned along the bluff at Riverside Park, overlooking the lighted ships twinkling out on the river.
The Porters arose early on the morning of May 5 and, after a last-minute flurry of packing, rode by carriage from their Madison Avenue home to the long row of commercial wharfs along Manhattanâs West Street, the wide, bricked boulevard hugging the North River, as the lower part of the Hudson was called at the time. The wharfs, which opened under large roofs to the street, were among the newest additions to New Yorkâs commercial hub, with local ferries connecting to New Jersey, less than a mile across the river, and large ocean liners linking America to the rest of the world. It was a Wednesday morning, cooled by a steady wind sweeping down from the Hudson River Valley, but with clear skies promising a nice day. The fair weather helped build the crowd, and despite the early hour the piers along West Street were swarming with workers, passengers, and well-wishers seeing friends and relatives off on trips. The Portersâ carriage