dead to all intents, although he might live three hours or perhaps longer....  The giant sufferer lay extended diagonally across the bed, which was not long enough for him.  He had been stripped of his clothes.  His large arms, which were occasionally exposed, were of a size which one would scarce have expected from his spare appearance.  His slow, full respiration lifted the clothes with each breath that he took.  His features were calm and striking.  I had never seen them appear to better advantage than for the first hour, perhaps, that I was there.  After that, his right eye began to swell and that part of his face became discolored ...  Senator Sumner was there, I think, when I entered.  If not, he came in soon after, as did Speaker Colfax, Mr. Secretary McCulloch, and the other members of the Cabinet, with the exception of Mr. Seward.  A double guard was stationed at the door and on the sidewalk, to repress the crowd, which was of course highly excited and anxious.  The room was small and overcrowded.  The surgeons and members of the Cabinet were as many as should have been in the room, but there were many more, and the hall and other rooms in the front or main house were full.  One of these rooms was occupied by Mrs. Lincoln and her attendants, with Miss Harris.  Mrs. Dixon and Mrs. Kinney came to her about twelve o’clock.  About once an hour Mrs. Lincoln would repair to the bedside of her dying husband and with lamentations and tears remain until overcome by emotion....  A door which opened upon a porch or gallery, and also the windows, were kept open for fresh air.  The night was dark, cloudy, and damp, and about six it began to rain.  I remained in the room until then without sitting or leaving it, when, there being a vacant chair which some one left at the foot of the bed, I occupied it for nearly two hours, listening to the heavy groans, and witnessing the wasting life of the good and great man who was expiring before me....  A little before seven in the morning I re-entered the room where the dying President was rapidly drawing near the closing moments.  His wife soon after made her last visit to him.  The death-struggle had begun.  Robert, his son, stood with several others at the head of the bed.  The respiration of the President became suspended at intervals, and at last entirely ceased at twenty-two minutes past seven o’clock.”

The news of the President’s assassination flashed rapidly over the country, everywhere causing the greatest consternation and grief.  The revulsion from the joy which had filled all loyal hearts at the prospects of peace was sudden and profound.  All business ceased, and gave way to mourning and lamentation.  The flags, so lately unfurled in exultation, were now dropped at half-mast, and emblems of sorrow were hung from every door and window.  Men walked with a dejected air.  They gathered together in groups in the street, and spoke of the murder of the President as of a personal calamity.  The nation’s heart was smitten sorely, and signs of woe were in every face and movement.