Rick, re โ€œBeautiful Isle of Somewhereโ€ (which, notwithstanding the tune and lyrics, is a helluva title):

There were several mournful ballads written in honor of the assassinated McKinley but they didnโ€™t have a monopoly of musical memorials. One that retained a degree of popularity and was regularly performed until into the 1920s was the apparently anonymous โ€œMcKinleyโ€™s Lamentโ€, a folky number in the manner of railroad ballads, and full of detail:

Mr McKinley, he went there for fun
But Czolgosz he shot him with an Iver Johnson gunโ€ฆ

Which is true. He did. Also this plea from the First Lady:

Doctor, doctor, do all you can
Man shot my husband with a handkerchief over his hanโ€™โ€ฆ

Which is also true. Czolgosz made it appear heโ€™d injured his hand and had bandaged it with his handkerchief, under which he concealed his weapon. Also:

McKinley hollered, McKinley squalled
Doc says, โ€˜McKinley, I canโ€™t find that ballโ€ฆโ€™

Which again is true. In an emergency operation at the Buffalo fairgrounds, the doctors removed the first bullet, but couldnโ€™t find the second. Also to the point is this couplet:

Jailer told Czolgosh, โ€˜What you doinโ€™ here?
Took and shot McKinley, gonna take the electric chairโ€ฆโ€™

Which he did. Seven weeks later. No Gitmo or 20 years of appeals in those days.

I first came across the song when riffling through the work of Eleanor Farjeon, the British childrenโ€™s author. At the beginning of the First World War, Miss Farjeon spent a Sunday evening with D H Lawrence at which he sang several Negro spirituals but also โ€œset our brains jingling with an American ballad on the murder of President McKinley with words of brutal jocularity sung to an air of lilting sweetnessโ€. Lawrence loved the song. Mary Laleeby Fisher, a ten-year-old pupil of his in 1915, recalled that he liked to teach her some of his favorite tunes: โ€œThe two that stand out in my memory are the old traditional English song, โ€˜Barbara Allenโ€™, and a song from America about the assassination of President McKinley.โ€ She grew so fond of the songโ€™s โ€œbrutal jocularityโ€ she could sing it word-perfect to the end of her life.

Eleanor Farjeon in turn taught the tune to a member of Ernest Shackletonโ€™s expedition to the South Pole, to entertain Sir Ernest and the lads during conversational lulls round the Antarctic campfire:

Roosevelt in the White House, heโ€™s doing his best
McKinley in the graveyard, heโ€™s takinโ€™ his restโ€ฆ
Roosevelt in the White House, drinkinโ€™ out of a silver cup
McKinley in the graveyard, heโ€™ll never wake up.

McKinley died almost a century to the day before 9/11. Whatโ€™s the connection between the two events? Eleanor Farjeon, who learned โ€œMcKinleyโ€™s Lamentโ€ from D H Lawrence, subsequently had her own childrenโ€™s hymn โ€œMorning Has Brokenโ€ recorded by Cat Stevens and turned into a monster pop hit. Cat then converted to Islam, changed his name to โ€œYusuf Islamโ€, and after 9/11 was banned from entering the United States by the Department of Homeland Security. On national security grounds, not musical ones.

(For my own take on the Kennedy assassinationโ€™s musical accompaniment, see here.)