Lincoln in the Bardo(55)
Hohner, op. cit.
The death-dew gathered on his brow.
Keckley, op. cit.
In the room of Death, just before the cessation of breath, time seems to stop entirely.
Sternlet, op. cit.
The President could only stand and watch, eyes wide, having no power at all in this new-arrived and brutal realm.
Hohner, op. cit.
LXXXVII.
Wait, the lad said.
He sat there, within his father, a look of consternation on his little face, seeming more upset than comforted by whatever he was hearing.
Come out, I ordered.
I don’t understand, he said.
Come out at once, I said.
hans vollman
LXXXVIII.
The body was embalmed on February 22 by Doctors Brown and Alexander, who were assisted by Dr. Wood.
In “Lincoln Lore: Bulletin of the Lincoln Life Foundation,” No. 1511, January 1964.
Neither Brown nor Alexander personally embalmed Willie; that job fell to their master embalmer, Henry P. Cattell.
In “Stealing Lincoln’s Body,” by Thomas J. Craughwell.
Frank T. Sands was the chief undertaker. Perhaps it was he who suggested the precaution of covering the breast of the corpse with the green and white blossoms of the mignonette (Reseda odorata), known for its overpoweringly sweet fragrance.
Epstein, op. cit.
The method of Sagnet of Paris was used.
“Lincoln Lore,” op. cit.
Sagnet had pioneered the innovative use of zinc chloride.
In “Pausing Death: Nineteenth Century Embalming and the Cult of Immortality,” by Steven Wedge and Emily Wedge.
Five quarts of a 20 percent solution of zinc chloride injected through the popliteal artery not only preserved a body for a minimum of two years, but also wrought a wondrous transformation, giving the body the appearance of luminous white marble.
Craughwell, op. cit.
Extravagant claims were made of the Sagnet process, stating that the remains became a “shell in effigy; a sculpture.”
“Lincoln Lore,” op. cit.
A trestle table was assembled in place for the procedure. The carpets in the Green Room were rolled back and the flooring protected by use of a large square of tenting fabric.
In “The Doctor’s Assistant: Memoirs of D. Root,” by Donovan G. Root, M.D.
The procedure did not require draining the body of the blood. The boy was undressed and an incision made in the left thigh. The zinc chloride was pumped in using a small-diameter metal pump. No unusual difficulties were encountered. The entry point required a small suture and the boy was re-dressed.
Wedge and Wedge, op. cit.
The mother being distraught, the burial clothes had been selected by the father and sent down to us in an oversized hat-box.
Root, op. cit.
Willie was attired in the usual type of clothing worn for everyday. It consisted of pants, jacket, white stockings, and low-cut shoes. The white shirt collar was turned down over the jacket, and the cuffs were turned back over the sleeves.
In “Abraham Lincoln: From Skeptic to Prophet,” by Wayne C. Temple, quoting “Illinois State Journal,” July 7, 1871.
We had all of us of the household many times seen that little gray suit on the living boy.
Hilyard, op. cit., account of D. Strumphort, butler.
Little Willie, pathetically wasted, was dressed in one of his old brown suits, white socks, and low-cut shoes, like an illused marionette.
Epstein, op. cit.
He lay with eyes closed—his brown hair parted as we had known it—pale in the slumber of death; but otherwise unchanged, for he was dressed as if for the evening, and held in one of his hands, crossed upon his breast, a bunch of exquisite flowers.
Willis, op. cit.
The President came in for a look—only too early. The trestle table was still up. Jenkins was just gathering up the tarp. The tools of our craft were yet visible in the open box. The pump still gurgled. I was sorry for this. It impeded upon the desired effect. The President blanched noticeably, thanked us, quickly left the room.
Root, op. cit.
LXXXIX.
The boy sat stock-still, eyes very wide indeed.
roger bevins iii
XC.
They buried Willie Lincoln on a day of great wind, that tore the roofs off houses and slashed the flags to ribbons.
Leech, op. cit.
In the procession to Oak Hill Cemetery in Georgetown two white horses drew the hearse bearing the little boy who had known only happiness. But black horses drew the carriage in which sat the worn and grief-stricken President.
Randall, op. cit.
The gale blew the roofs off tall houses, shattered glass windows, leveled fields of military tents, turned muddy streets into canals and canals into rapids. Gusts of wind destroyed several churches and many shacks, uprooted trees, blew out the skylights of the Library of Congress; waves inundated the Long Bridge over the Potomac to Alexandria.
Epstein, op. cit.
The father drove, unseeing, through the wreckage.
Leech, op. cit.
The carriages of the funeral procession stretched for so many blocks that they took a long time to wind their way up to the heights of Georgetown and to the beautiful Oak Hill Cemetery with its crown of oak trees.
Kunhardt and Kunhardt, op. cit.