Surratt Society Meeting and "Conference" 2021

[Steve]

(03-07-2025 08:07 PM)STS Lincolnite Wrote:  I'm not at home right now, but as I recall, Taft wrote an article for a weekly medical magazine. It was published in late April 1865 (so VERY early after the assassination). I will look in my files when I get home and try to find the exact date and publication...

You provided enough information for me to find it. It's an article Taft wrote for the April 22, 1865 edition of The Medical and Surgical Reporter. Here's a link to it:


https://archive.org/details/sim_medical-...2/mode/2up


Thank you so much for finding this source!

[STS Lincolnite]

(03-08-2025 08:01 AM)Steve Wrote:  You provided enough information for me to find it. It's an article Taft wrote for the April 22, 1865 edition of The Medical and Surgical Reporter. Here's a link to it:


https://archive.org/details/sim_medical-...2/mode/2up


Thank you so much for finding this source!

Yes! That is the article. And you're welcome - glad I could help.

[David Lockmiller]

(03-08-2025 08:01 AM)Steve Wrote:  You provided enough information for me to find it. It's an article Taft wrote for the April 22, 1865 edition of The Medical and Surgical Reporter. Here's a link to it:


https://archive.org/details/sim_medical-...2/mode/2up


Thank you so much for finding this source!

MURDER OF PRESIDENT LINCOLN.

Last Saturday morning the telegraphic wires carried mournful news over the land. The nation was in the midst of rejoicings at the prospect of a termination of our civil strife, and the speedy advent of peace. The whole country was clad in the garments of joy, and every face wore an expression of gladness. The bells, from Maine to California, and from the Lakes to the Gulf, pealed forth tones of exultation as better and still better news arrived. It was remarked that there was a surfeit of joy.

Alas! the nation little thought how in one hour her joy would be changed to the most poignant grief, and a dark shadow be cast over her emblems of rejoicing! Time paused in his westward flight, and started back appalled, as swifter than “the wings of the morning,” the electric current flashed the mournful intelligence from the Atlantic to the shores of the broad Pacific, that on Friday night, Abraham Lincoln, the beloved Chief Magistrate of the land, had fallen at the hands of an assassin. The fatal wound was given by a pistol ball which entered the brain. The President lingered in an insensible, dying condition, for several hours, and died at twenty-two minutes past seven o’clock, on Saturday morning, the 15th inst.