After waiting
a moment I placed my ear over his thorax and found the action of the
heart improving. I arose to the erect kneeling posture, then watched
for a short time, and saw that the President could continue
independent breathing and that instant death would not occur.

I then pronounced my diagnosis and prognosis: "His wound is mortal; it
is impossible for him to recover." This message was telegraphed all
over the country.

When the brandy and water arrived, I very slowly poured a small
quantity into the President's mouth, this was swallowed and retained.

Many looked on during these earnest efforts to revive the President,
but not once did any one suggest a word or in any way interfere with
my actions. Mrs. Lincoln had thrown the burden on me and sat nearby
looking on.

In the dimly lighted box of the theatre, so beautifully decorated with
American flags, a scene of historic importance was being enacted. On
the carpeted floor lay prostrate the President of the United States.
His long, outstretched, athletic body of six feet four inches appeared
unusually heroic. His bleeding head rested on my white linen
handkerchief. His clothing was arranged as nicely as possible. He was
irregularly breathing, his heart was feebly beating, his face was pale
and in solemn repose, his eyelids were closed, his countenance made
him appear to be in prayerful communion with the Universal God he
always loved. I looked down upon him and waited for the next
inspiration, which soon came: "Remove to safety." From the time Mrs.
Lincoln had placed the President in my charge, I had not permitted my
attention to be diverted. Again I was asked the nature of his wound
and replied in these exact words: "His wound is mortal; it is
impossible for him to recover."

While I was kneeling over the President on the floor Dr. Charles S.
Taft and Dr. Albert F. A. King had come and offered to render any
assistance. I expressed the desire to have the President taken, as
soon as he had gained sufficient strength, to the nearest house on the
opposite side of the street. I was asked by several if he could not be
taken to the White House, but I responded that if that were attempted
the President would die long before we reached there. While we were
waiting for Mr. Lincoln to gain strength Laura Keene, who had been
taking part in the play, appealed to me to allow her to hold the
President's head. I granted this request and she sat on the floor of
the box