Last public speech Abraham Lincoln

[loetar44]

I did some research, with the following results:

Lincoln gave his last public address at the window in the Closet Hall in the center of the second floor, northside WH. Here are two small bedrooms sharing a closet hallway (red box, the red arrow points to the window from which Lincoln spoke).

   

Formerly (in the time of Monroe) there was here a large bedroom to accommodate guests. The Marquis de Lafayette almost certainly stayed in that room. In 1853 (Pierce administration) this room was divided into two bedrooms, with a narrow corridor with its window directly over the front door. Here at this window Lincoln held his last speech.

   

Later a small schoolroom was established here for Scott and Fanny Hayes. It was a bedroom for two Theodore Roosevelt family maids. It was the bedroom for Maude Shaw, nurse to the Kennedy children. Now the Closet Hall separates the bedrooms of Malia and Sasha Obama.

Here the view from the Closet Hall window, looking north (now and in 1890)

       

Two questions remain: what time did Lincoln held his speech? How many people were assembled outside?

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(10-01-2014 04:32 AM)Eva Elisabeth Wrote:  I think it's Elizabeth Keckley:

Yes it was Elizabeth Keckley. She was with Mary in the hallway (but not visible for the public) and gave the following account in "Behind the Scenes" (Chapter 11: The Assassination of President Lincoln):

I had never heard Mr. Lincoln make a public speech, and, knowing the man so well, was very anxious to hear him. On the morning of the Tuesday after our return from City Point, Mrs. Lincoln came to my apartments, and before she drove away I asked permission to come to the White House that night and hear Mr. Lincoln speak. [The Lincoln party returned Sunday April 9 from City Point, so "the Tuesday after our return from City Point" was April 11, meaning the story refers to AL's last public speech]

"Certainly, Lizabeth; if you take any interest in political speeches, come and listen in welcome."
"Thank you, Mrs. Lincoln. May I trespass further on your kindness by asking permission to bring a friend with me?"
"Yes, bring your friend also. By the way, come in time to dress me before the speaking commences."
"I will be in time. You may rely upon that. Good morning," I added, as she swept from my room, and, passing out into the street, entered her carriage and drove away.

ABOUT 7 O'CLOCK THAT EVENING I entered the White House. As I went up–stairs I glanced into Mr. Lincoln's room through the half–open door, and seated by a desk was the President, looking over his notes and muttering to himself. His face was thoughtful, his manner abstracted, and I knew, as I paused a moment to watch him, that he was rehearsing the part that he was to play in the great drama soon to commence. [ Lincoln was still preparing his speech at 7 pm, so he spoke after 7 pm ......]

Proceeding to Mrs. Lincoln's apartment, I worked with busy fingers, and in a short time her toilette was completed.

Great crowds began to gather in front of the White House, and loud calls were made for the President. The band stopped playing, and as he advanced to the centre window over the door to make his address, I looked out, and never saw such a mass of heads before. It was like a black, gently swelling sea. The swaying motion of the crowd, in the dim uncertain light, was like the rising and falling of billows—like the ebb and flow of the tide upon the stranded shore of the ocean. Close to the house the faces were plainly discernible, but they faded into mere ghostly outlines on the outskirts of the assembly; and what added to the weird, spectral beauty of the scene, was the confused hum of voices that rose above the sea of forms, sounding like the subdued, sullen roar of an ocean storm, or the wind soughing through the dark lonely forest. It was a grand and imposing scene, and when the President, with pale face and his soul flashing through his eyes, advanced to speak, he looked more like a demigod than a man crowned with the fleeting days of mortality.

The moment the President appeared at the window he was greeted with a storm of applause, and voices re–echoed the cry, "A light! a light!"
A lamp was brought, and little Tad at once rushed to his father's side, exclaiming: "Let me hold the light, Papa! let me hold the light!"

Mrs. Lincoln directed that the wish of her son be gratified, and the lamp was transferred to his hands. The father and son standing there in the presence of thousands of free citizens, the one lost in a chain of eloquent ideas, the other looking up into the speaking face with a proud, manly look, formed a beautiful and striking tableau.

There were a number of distinguished gentlemen, as well as ladies, in the room, nearly all of whom remarked the picture.I stood a short distance from Mr. Lincoln, and as the light from the lamp fell full upon him, making him stand out boldly in the darkness, a sudden thought struck me, and I whispered to the friend at my side:
"What an easy matter would it be to kill the President, as he stands there! He could be shot down from the crowd, and no one be able to tell who fired the shot."

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This rises a new question: was Tad or Noah Brooks holding the light? Brooks said he was holding the candle and Tad was sitting on the floor grabbing the falling papers Lincoln had read......

See “Lincoln Observed: Civil War Dispatches of Noah Brooks”, edited by Michael Burlingame