LINCOLN  IN  RICHMOND. 
J°9 
nor  yet  to  give  him  a  commission,  to  which  those 
who  have  already  served  long  are  better  entitled, 
and  better  qualified  to  hold.  Could  he,  without 
embarrassment  to  you,  or  detriment  to  the  service, 
go  into  your  military  family  with  some  nominal 
rank,  I,  and  not  the  public,  furnishing  his  ncct  isary 
means  ?  If  no,  say  so  without  the  least  hesitation, 
because  I  am  as  anxious  and  as  deeply  interested 
that  you  shall  not  be  encumbered  as  you  can  he 
yourself. 1 
Grant  replied  as  follows : 
Your  favor  of  this  date  in  relation  to  your  son 
serving  in  some  military  capacity  is  received.  I  will 
be  most  happy  to  have  him  in  my  military  family 
in  the  manner  you  propose.  The  nominal  rank  given 
him  is  immaterial,  but  I  would  suggest  that  of  cap- 
tain, as  I  have  three  staff-officers  now,  of  consider- 
able service,  in  no  higher  grade.  Indeed,  I  have  one 
officer  with  only  the  rank  of  lieutenant  who  has 
been  in  the  service  from  the  beginning  of  the  war. 
This,  however,  will  make  no  difference,  and  I  would 
still  say  give  the  rank  of  captain. —  Please  excuse 
my  writing  on  a  half-sheet.  I  have  no  resource  but 
to  take  the  blank  half  of  your  letter.2 
The  President's  son  therefore  became  a  mem- 
ber of  Grant's  staff  with  the  rank  of  captain, 
and  acquitted  himself  of  the  duties  of  that 
station  with  fidelity  and  honor. 
We  may  assume  that  it  was  the  anticipated 
important  military  events  rather  than  the  pres- 
ence of  Captain  Robert  T.  Lincoln  at  Grant's 
headquarters  which  induced  the  general  on 
the  20th  of  March,  1865,  to  invite  the  President 
and  Mrs.  Lincoln  to  make  a  visit  to  his  camp 
near.  Richmond;  and  on  the  2 2d  they  and 
their  younger  son  Thomas,  nicknamed  "Tad," 
proceeded  in  the  steamer  River  Queen  from 
Washington  to  City  Point,  where  General  Grant 
with  his  family  and  staff  were  "  occupying  a 
pretty  group  of  huts  on  the  bank  of  the  James 
River,  overlooking  the  harbor,  which  was  full 
of  vessels  of  all  classes,  both  war  and  merchant, 
with  wharves  and  warehouses  on  an  extensive 
scale."  3  Here,  making  his  home  on  the  steamer 
which  brought  him,  the  President  remained 
about  ten  days,  enjoying  what  was  probably 
the  most  satisfactory  relaxation  in  which  he 
had  been  able  to  indulge  during  his  whole 
presidential  service.  It  was  springtime  and 
the  weather  was  moderately  steady ;  his  days 
were  occupied  visiting  the  various  camps  of 
the  great  army  in  company  with  the  general. 
ei  He  was  a  good  horseman,"  records  a  mem- 
ber of  the  general's  staff,  "and  made  his  way 
through  swamps  and  over  corduroy  roads  as 
well  as  the  best  trooper  in  the  command.  The 
soldiers  invariably  recognized  him  and  greeted 
him,  wherever  he  appeared  amongst  them,  with 
cheers  that  were  no  lip  service,  but  came  from 
1  Lincoln  to  Grant,  Jan.  19,1865.  Unpublished  MS. 
2  Grant  to  Lincoln,  Jan.  21,  1S65.  Unpublished 
MS. 
depth  of  their  heard."4    Many  evening 
hours  wen:  pa  ,,'•'!  with  grou] 
roaring  camp 
ways  tli'-  1 
tion  ;iikI  lively  an 
visit,  was  turtlM-r   enhai  -rrival  at 
City  Point,  on  th< 
Genera]  Sherman,  «rho, 
Schofield  to  1  ommand  in  hi 
hasty  trip  to  confer  with  (, 
to  gratify  the  P  I  with  n  n 
leading  incidents  of  hi    grc  I  m 
lanta  to  Savannah  andfi 
boro',  North  Carolina,   In  01  -  informal 
interviews  in  theafi 
Lincoln,  Grant,  Sherman,  and  niral 
Porter  enjoyed  a  frank  inter  inion 
about  the  favorable  pro  and  final 
victory,  and  of  the  speedy  realization  of  the 
long-hoped-for  peace.  Shenn  n  and  Porter 
affirm    that  the  President  eon:  them 
certain  liberal  views  on  the  subj  on- 
structing  State  governments  in  the  conqi. 
States  which  do  not  seem  compatible  with 
the  very  guarded  language  of  Mr.  Lincoln 
elsewhere  used  or  recorded  by  him.  It  is  fair 
to  presume  that  their  own  enthusiasm  colored 
their  recollection  of  the  President's  expressions, 
though  it  is  no  doubt  true  that  he  spoke  of 
his  willingness  to  be  liberal  to  the  verge  1  if  pru- 
dence, and  that  he  even  gave  them  to  under- 
stand that  he  would  not  be  displeased  at  the 
escape  from  the  country  of  Jefferson  Davis  and 
other  principal  rebel  leaders. 
On  the  29th  of  March  the  party  separated, 
Sherman  returning  to  North  Carolina,  and 
Grant  starting  on  his  final  campaign  to  A-  - 
pomattox.  Five  days  later  Grant  informed 
Mr.  Lincoln  of  the  fall  of  Petersburg,  and  the 
President  made  a  flying  visit  to  that  town  for 
another  brief  conference  with  the  general. 
The  capture  of  Richmond  was  hourly  ex- 
pected, and  that  welcome  information  reached 
Lincoln  soon  after  his  return  to  City  Point. 
Between  the  receipt  of  this  news  and  the 
following  forenoon,  but  before  any  information 
about  the  great  fire  had  been  re 
to  Richmond  was  arranged  bet  v.  3  lent 
Lincoln  and  Admiral  Porter.    Accounts  differ 
as  to  who  suggested  it  or  extended  the  invita- 
tion, and  there  is  great  vagueness  and   l 
contradiction    about    the  details  trip. 
Admiral  Porter  states •",  that  he  carried  the 
President  in  his  flag-ship,  the  A  until 
she  grounded,  when  he  trans 
his  barge  with  a  tugboat  to  tow  it  and  a  small 
detachment  of  marines  on  board.      A", 
account  states  that  the  President  proceeded  in 
3  Sherman,  "  Memoirs."  Vol.  '. 
4  Gen.  Horace  Porter,  inTHF  CENTURY, 
6  "New  York  Tribune."
ABRAHAM  LINCOLN 
-•.earner  River  Queen  until  the  transfer  to 
the  barge  ;  also  that  another  transport,  having 
a  four-horse  held  wagon  and  a  squadron  of 
cavalry,  followed  for  the  service  of  the  Presi- 
dent. Still  a  third  account  states  *  that  the 
party  went  in  the  admiral's  barge  the  whole 
distance,  as  affording  greater  safety  against 
danger  from  any  torpedoes  which  might  not 
yet  have  been  removed.  The  various  accounts 
agree  that  obstructions,  consisting  of  rows  of 
piling,  sunken  hulks,  and  the  debris  of  the 
destroyed  Confederate  vessels,  were  encoun- 
tered, which  only  the  tug  and  barge  were  able 
to  pass. 
The  result  therefore  was  that  the  party  were 
compelled  to  make  a  landing  at  some  distance 
below  the  proper  place,  at  the  suburb  called 
Rockett's,  and  that  there  was  neither  sentry 
nor  ■officer  nor  wagon  nor  escort  to  meet  and 
receive  them.  One  cannot  help  wondering  at 
the  manifest  imprudence  of  both  Mr.  Lincoln 
and  Admiral  Porter  in  the  whole  proceeding. 
Never  in  the  history  of  the  world  did  the 
ruler  of  a  mighty  nation  and  the  conqueror  of 
a  great  rebellion  enter  the  captured  chief  city 
of  the  insurgents  in  such  humbleness  and  sim- 
plicity. As  they  stepped  from  the  barge  the 
street  along  the  river  front  seemed  deserted, 
and  they  sent  out  to  find  some  chance  person 
of  whom  to  inquire  their  way.  The  unusual 
group  soon  attracted  the  attention  of  idlers, 
and  a  crowd  gathered.  Admiral  Porter  ordered 
twelve  of  the  marines  to  fix  bayonets  to  their 
rifles  and  to  form  six  in  front  and  six  behind 
the  party,  which  consisted  of  President  Lincoln, 
holding  his  son  "  Tad  "  by  the  hand,  Admiral 
Porter,  and  three  officers,  all  being  on  foot; 
and  in  this  order  they  walked  from  the  landing 
at  Rockett's  to  the  center  of  Richmond,  a  dis- 
tance of  nearly  two  miles.  It  was  a  long 
and  fatiguing  march,  evidently  not  expected 
by  the  President,  who  during  his  ten-days' 
stay  with  the  army  had  probably  always  had 
an  officer  at  his  elbow  to  anticipate  his  slight- 
est wish  for  horses  or  vehicles.  There  remains 
no  trustworthy  account  of  this  strange  presi- 
dential entry ;  the  printed  narratives  of  it  writ- 
ten from  memory,  after  the  lapse  of  years,  are 
so  evidently  colored  by  fancy  that  they  do 
not  invite  credence.  Admiral  Porter,  writing 
on  the  following  day,  says  : 
On  the  4th  of  April  I  accompanied  the  President 
up  to  Richmond,  where  he  was  received  with  the 
strongest  demonstrations  of  joy.2 
This  is  perhaps  the  most  perfect  historical 
record  we  shall  ever  have  of  the  event,  and 
the  imagination  may  easily  fill  up  the  picture 
of  a  gradually  increasing  crowd,  principally 
1  Manuscript  narrative  of  Colonel  W.  II.  Crook. 
2  Porter,  Report,  April  5,  1 865. 
of  negroes,  following  the  little  group  of  marines 
and  officers  with  the  tall  form  of  the  President 
in  its  center ;  and,  having  learned  that  it  was 
indeed  Mr.  Lincoln,  giving  expression  to  won- 
der, joy,  and  gratitude  in  a  variety  of  pictur- 
esque emotional  ejaculations  peculiar  to  the 
colored  race,  and  for  which  there  was  ample 
time  while  the  little  procession  made  its  tire- 
some march,  whose  route  cannot  now  be 
traced. 
At  length  the  party  reached  the  headquar- 
ters of  General  Weitzel,  established  in  the  very 
house  occupied  by  Jefferson  Davis  as  the  presi- 
dential mansion  of  the  rebel  Confederacy,  and 
from  which  he  had  fled  less  than  two  days  before. 
Here  Mr.  Lincoln  was  glad  of  a  chance  to  sit 
dowm  and  rest,  and  a  little  later  to  partake  of 
a  lunch  which  the  general  provided.  An  in- 
formal reception,  chiefly  of  Union  officers,  nat- 
urally followed,  and  later  in  the  afternoon 
General  Weitzel  went  with  the  President  and 
Admiral  Porter  in  a  carriage,  guarded  by  an 
escort  of  cavalry,  to  visit  the  Capitol,  the 
burnt  district,  Libby  Prison,  Castle  Thunder, 
and  other  points  of  interest  about  the  city ; 
and  of  this  afternoon  drive  also  no  trustworthy 
narrative  in  detail  by  an  eye-witness  appears 
to  have  been  written  at  the  time. 
It  was  probably  before  the  President  went 
on  this  drive  that  there  occurred  an  interview 
on  political  topics  which  forms  one  of  fhe  chief 
points  of  interest  connected  with  his  visit. 
Judge  John  A.  Campbell,  rebel  Assistant  Sec- 
retary of  War,  remained  in  Richmond  when 
on  Sunday  night  the  other  members  of  the 
rebel  Government  fled,  and  on  Tuesday  morn- 
ing he  reported  to  the  Union  military  governor, 
General  G.  F.  Shepley,  and  informed  him  of 
his  "submission  to  the  military  authorities."3 
Learning  from  General  Shepley  that  Mr.  Lin- 
coln was  at  City  Point,  he  asked  permission 
to  see  him.  This  application  was  evidently 
communicated  to  Mr.  Lincoln,  for  shortly 
after  his  arrival  a  staff-officer  informed  Camp- 
bell that  the  requested  interview  would  be 
granted,  and  conducted  him  to  the  President 
at  the  general's  headquarters,  where  it  took 
place.  The  rebel  General  J.  R.  Anderson  and 
others  were  present  as  friends  of  the  judge, 
and  General  Weitzel  as  the  witness  of  Mr. 
Lincoln.  Campbell,  as  spokesman,  "  told  the 
President  that  the  wrar  was  over,"  and  made 
inquiries  about  the  measures  and  conditions 
necessary  to  secure  peace.  Speaking  for  Vir- 
ginia, he  "  urged  him  to  consult  and  counsel 
with  her  public  men,  and  her  citizens,  as  to 
the  restoration  of  peace,  civil  order,  and  the 
renewal  of  her  relations  as  a  member  of  the 
Union."4 
3  Campbell,  pamphlet. 
4  Ibid.
LINCOLN  IN  RICHMOND. 
In  his  pamphlet,  written  from  memory  long 
afterwards,  Campbell  states  that  Mr.  Lincoln 
replied  "that  my  general  principles  wen- 
right,  the  trouble  was  how  to  apply  them";  and 
no  conclusion  was  reached  except  to  appoint 
another  interview  for  the  following  day  on 
board  the  Malvern.  This  second  interview 
was  accordingly  held  on  Wednesday,  April  5, 
Campbell  taking  with  him  only  a  single  citi- 
zen of  Richmond,  as  the  others  to  whom  he 
sent  invitations  were  either  absent  from  the 
city  or  declined  to  accompany  him.  General 
Weitzel  was  again  present  as  a  witness.  The 
conversation  apparently  took  a  wide  range  on 
the  general  topic  of  restoring  local  govern- 
ments in  the  South,  in  the  course  of  which  the 
President  gave  Judge  Campbell  a  written 
memorandum,1  embracing  an  outline  of  con- 
ditions of  peace  which  repeated  in  substance 
the  terms  he  had  proffered  the  rebel  commis- 
sioners (of  whom  Campbell  was  one)  at  the 
Hampton  Roads  conference  on  the  3d  of  Feb- 
ruary, 1865.  The  only  practical  suggestion 
which  was  made  has  been  summarized  as 
follows  by  General  Weitzel  in  a  statement 
written  from  memory,  as  the  result  of  the  two 
interviews  : 
Mr.  Campbell  and  the  other  gentleman  assured 
Mr.  Lincoln  that  if  he  would  allow  the  Virginia 
legislature  to  meet,  it  would  at  once  repeal  the  or- 
dinance of  secession,  and  that  then  General  Robert 
E.  Lee  and  every  other  Virginian  would  submit ; 
that  this  would  amount  to  the  virtual  destruction 
of  the  Army  of  Northern  Virginia,  and  eventually 
to  the  surrender  of  all  the  other  rebel  armies,  and 
would  insure  perfect  peace  in  the  shortest  possible 
time.  2 
Out  of  this  second  conference,  which  also 
ended  without  result,  President  Lincoln 
thought  he  saw  an  opportunity  to  draw  an 
immediate  and  substantial  military  benefit. 
On  the  next  day  (April  6)  he  wrote  from 
City  Point,  where  he  had  returned,  the  follow- 
ing letter  to  General  Weitzel,  which  he  im- 
mediate!) 
hand  oi  Senator  Wilkii 
he  wrote  it  and  wh 
Poinl  to  ki<  hmond  : 
It  has  been  intimal    I  to  m<  nen 
who  I  1  a    tii  •  I  ;-  :  it  ire  1  in 
support  of  the  rel  ellion  •  nblc 
at  Richmond,  and  1  I 
Virginia  troop 
to  the  General  Governn 
give  them  permission  an 
all,  they  attempt  some  action  h 
States,  in    which   case   you   will   notify  them     . 
them  reasonable  time  to  leave,  ind  if   the  end  of 
which   time  arrest  any  who   remain.    Al 
Campbell  to  see  this,  but  do  not  make  it  puf 
This  document  bears  upon 
tinct  military  object  which  I  lent  had 
in  view  in  permitting  the  rebel  legislatui 
assemble,  namely,  to   withdraw   immediately 
the  Virginia  troops  from  the  arm  . 
on  his  retreat  towards  Lynchbu  -uld 
not  be  foreseen  that  Lee  would  surrender  the 
whole  of  that  army  within  the  next  tl 
though  it  was  evident  that  the  withdraw 
the  Virginia  forces  from  it,    under  what 
pretended  State  authority,   would  contribute 
to  the  ending  of  the  war  quite  tally 
as  the  reduction  of   that   army   to  an  equal 
number  by  battle   or    capture.  und 
upon  which  Lincoln  believed  the  rebel  legis- 
lature might  take  this  action  i-  set  forth  u 
dispatch  to  Grant  of  the  same  date,  in  which 
he  wrote  : 
Secretary  Seward  was  thrown  from  his  carriage 
yesterday  and  seriously  injured.    This  with   other 
matters  will  take  me  to  Washington  soon.    1 
at  Richmond  yesterday  and  th 
and  where  Judge  Campbell,   who  was  wit     M 
Hunter  and  Stephens  in   February,  called  on  me. 
and  made  such    representations  as  induced  me  to 
put  in  his  hands  an   informal   paper   repeating  the 
propositions    in   my  letter  of    instruct;. 
Seward,  which  you  remember,  and  adding  "  t' 
the  war  be  now  further  persisted  in  by  the  rebels. 
1  "  As  to  peace,  I  have  said  before,  and  now  repeat, 
that  three  things  are  indispensable  : 
"  1.  The  restoration  of  the  national  authority  through- 
out the  United  States. 
"  2.  No  receding  by  the  Executive  of  the  United 
States  on  the  slavery  question  from  the  position  as- 
sumed thereon  in  the  late  annual  message,  and  in  pre- 
ceding documents. 
"  3.  No  cessation  of  hostilities  short  of  an  end  of  the 
war,  and  the  disbanding  of  all  forces  hostile  to  the 
Government.  That  all  propositions  coming  from  those 
now  in  hostility  to  the  Government,  not  inconsistent 
with  the  foregoing,  will  be  respectfully  considered  and 
passed  upon  in  a  spirit  of  sincere  liberality. 
"  I  now  add  that  it  seems  useless  to  me  to  be  more 
specific  with  those  who  will  not  say  that  they  are  ready 
for  the  indispensable  terms,  even  on  conditions  to  be 
named  by  themselves.  If  there  be  any  who  are  ready 
for  these  indispensable  terms,  on  any  conditions  what- 
ever, let  them   say  so.  and  state  their  conditio:-.   - 
that  the  conditions  can   bo  I  considers 
is  further  added,  that  the  remission  <->f  confiscation  be- 
ing within  the  executive  power,  if  the  war  be  now  fur- 
ther persisted  in  by  those  opposing  the  G 
the  making  of  confiscated  property  a:  the  least  to  bear 
the  additional  cost  will  be  tnsis 
cations  ^except  in  case  of  third 
terests)  will  be  remit 
which  shall  now  promptly  and  in  g 
its  troops  from  further  resis  nenL 
What  is  now  said  as  to  remissi  >n  of  confis 
no  reference  to  supposed  property  in  slaves. n    1 
ident    Lincoln's   memorandum  printed  in  Campbell. 
pamphlet,  pp.  o,  10.] 
-  Weitzel,  in  "  Philadelphia  Ti 
3  I  incoln  to  Weitzel,  April  o.  1865.     v\ 
monv  ;    Report  of  Committee  on  Conduct  of  the  \\  :.r. 
Supplement.  Pari  I.,  p.  5-1.
ABRAHAM  LINCOLN. 
confiscated  property  shall  at  the  least  bear  the  ad- 
ditional cost,  and  that  confiscation  shall  be  remitted 
to  the  people  of  any  State  which  will  now  promptly 
and  in  coed  faith  withdraw  its  troops  and  other 
support  from  the  resistance  to  the  Government." 
.  Campbell  thought  it  not  impossible  that  the 
rebel  legislature  of  Virginia  would  do  the  latter, 
if  permitted,  and  accordingly  I  addressed  a  private 
letter  to  General  Weitzel,  with  permission  for  Judge 
Campbell  to  see  it,  telling  him  (General  W.)  that 
if  they  attempt  this  to  permit  and  protect  them, 
unless  they  attempt  something  hostile  to  the  United 
States,  in  which  case  to  give  them  notice  and  time 
to  leave,  and  to  arrest  any  remaining  after  such 
time.  I  do  not  think  it  very  probable  that  any- 
thing will  come  of  this,  but  I  have  thought  best 
to  notify  you,  so  that  if  you  should  see  signs  you 
may  understand  them.  From  your  recent  dispatches, 
it  seems  that  you  are  pretty  effectually  withdrawing 
the  Virginia  troops  from  opposition  to  the  Govern- 
ment. Nothing  that  I  have  done,  or  probably 
shall  do,  is  to  delay,  hinder,  or  interfere  with  your 
work.i 
That  Mr.  Lincoln  well  understood  the  tem- 
per of  leading  Virginians  when  he  wrote  that 
he  had  little  hope  of  any  result  from  the  per- 
mission he  had  given  is  shown  by  what 
followed.  When,  on  the  morning  of  April  7, 
General  Weitzel  received  the  President's  letter 
of  the  6th,  he  showed  it  confidentially  to  Judge 
Campbell,  who  thereupon  called  together  a 
committee,  apparently  five  in  number,  of  the 
Virginia  rebel  legislature,  and  instead  of  in- 
forming them  precisely  what  Lincoln  had 
authorized,  namely,  a  meeting  to  "  take  meas- 
ures to  withdraw  the  Virginia  troops  and  other 
support  from  resistance  to  the  General  Govern- 
ment," the  judge  in  a  letter  to  the  committee 
(dated  April  7)  formulated  quite  a  different  line 
of  action. 
1  have  had  [he  wrote],  since  the  evacuation  of 
Richmond,  two  conversations  with  Mr.  Lincoln, 
President  of  the  United  States.  .  .  .  The  conver- 
sations had  relation  to  the  establishment  of  a  govern- 
ment for  Virginia,  the  requirement  of  oaths  of  alle- 
giance from  the  citizens,  and  the  terms  of  settlement 
with  the  United  States.  With  the  concurrence  and 
sanction  of  General  Weitzel,  he  assented  to  the  appli- 
cation not  to  require  oaths  of  allegiance  from  the 
citizens.  He  stated  that  he  would  send  to  General 
Weitzel  his  decision  upon  the  question  of  a  govern- 
ment for  Virginia.  This  letter  was  received  on  Thurs- 
day, and  was  read  by  me.  .  .  .  The  object  of  the 
invitation  is  for  the  government  of  Virginia  to  de- 
termine whether  they  will  administer  the  laws  in 
connection  with  the  authorities  of  the  United  States. 
I  understand  from  Mr.  Lincoln,  if  this  condition  be 
fulfilled,  that  no  attempt  would  be  made  to  estab- 
lish or  sustain  any  other  authority.2 
The  rest  of  Campbell's  long  letter  relates 
to  safe-conducts,  to  transportation,  and  to  the 
1  Lincoln  to  Grant,  April  6,  1865. 
2  Campbell,  pamphlet. 
3  Ibid. 
contents  of  the  written  memorandum  handed 
by  Lincoln  to  him  at  the  interview  on  the 
Malvern  about  general  conditions  of  peace. 
But  this  memorandum  contained  no  syllable 
of  reference  to  the  "government  of  Virginia," 
and  bore  no  relation  of  any  kind  to  the  Presi- 
dent's permission  to  "  take  measures  to  with- 
draw the  Virginia  troops,"  except  its  promise 
"  that  confiscations  (except  in  case  of  third 
party  intervening  interests)  will  be  remitted 
to  the  people  of  any  State  which  shall  now 
promptly  and  in  good  faith  withdraw  its  troops 
from  further  resistance  to  the  Government." 
Going  a  step  further,  the  committee  next  pre- 
pared a  call  inviting  a  meeting  of  the  General 
Assembly,  announcing  the  consent  of  "  the 
military  authorities  of  the  United  States  to  the 
session  of  the  legislature  in  Richmond,"  and 
stating  that  "  The  matters  to  be  submitted  to 
the  legislature  are  the  restoration  of  peace  to 
the  State  of  Virginia,  and  the  adjustment  of 
questions  involving  life,  liberty,  and  property 
that  have  arisen  in  the  States  as  a  consequence 
of  the  war."  3  When  General  Weitzel  indorsed 
his  approval  on  the  call  "  for  publication  in  the 
1  Whig '  and  in  hand-bill  form,"  he  does  not 
seem  to  have  read,  or  if  he  read  to  have  real- 
ized, how  completely  President  Lincoln's  per- 
mission had  been  changed  and  his  authority 
perverted.  Instead  of  permitting  them  to  re- 
call Virginia  soldiers,  Weitzel  was  about  to 
allow  them  authoritatively  to  sit  in  judgment 
on  all  the  political  consequences  of  the  war 
"  in  the  States." 
General  Weitzel's  approval  was  signed  to 
the  call  on  April  1 1 ,  and  it  was  published  in 
the  "  Richmond  Whig  "  on  the  morning  of  the 
12  th.  On  that  day  the  President,  having  re- 
turned to  Washington,  was  at  the  War  Depart- 
ment writing  an  answer  to  a  dispatch  from 
General  Weitzel,  in  which  the  general  defended 
himself  against  the  Secretary's  censure  for  hav- 
ing neglected  to  require  from  the  churches  in 
Richmond  prayers  for  the  President  of  the 
United  States,  similar  to  those  which  prior  to 
the  fall  of  the  city  had  been  offered  up  in  their 
religious  services  in  behalf  of  "  the  rebel  chief, 
Jefferson  Davis,  before  he  was  driven  from  the 
Capitol."  Weitzel  contended  that  the  tone  of 
President  Lincoln's  conversations  with  him 
justified  the  omission.  Mr.  Lincoln  was  never 
punctilious  about  social  or  official  etiquette 
towards  himself,  and  he  doubtless  felt  in  this 
instance  that  neither  his  moral  nor  political 
well-being  was  seriously  dependent  upon  the 
prayers  of  the  Richmond  rebel  churches.  To 
this  part  of  the  general's  dispatch  he  therefore 
answered  : 
1  have  seen  your  dispatches  to  Colonel  Hardie 
about  the  matter  of  prayers.  I  do  not  remember 
hearing  prayer  spoken  of  while  I  was  in  Richmond,
WITH  A  COPY  ()/>■  SHELLEY. 
but  I  have  no  doubt  you  acted  in  what  appeared  to 
you  to  be  the  spirit  and  temper  manifested  by  me 
while  there.1 
Having  thus  generously  assumed  responsi- 
bility for  Weitzel's  alleged  neglect,  the  Presi- 
dent's next  thought  was  about  what  the  Vir- 
ginia rebel  legislature  was  doing,  of  which  he- 
had  heard  nothing  since  his  return  from  City 
Point.  He  therefore  included  in  this  same  tel- 
egram of  April  12  the  following  inquiry  and 
direction : 
Is  there  any  sign  of  the  rebel  legislature  coining 
together  on  the  understanding  of  my  letter  to 
you?  If  there  is  any  such  sign,  inform  me  what  it 
is.    If  there  is  no  sign,  you  may  withdraw  the  offer. 
To  this  question  General  Weitzel  answered 
briefly,  "  The  passports  have  gone  out  for  the 
legislature,  and  it  is  common  talk  that  they 
will  come  together."  It  is  probable  that  Mr. 
Lincoln  thought  that  if  after  the  lapse  of  five 
days  the  proposed  meeting  had  progressed  no 
farther  than  "  common  talk,"  nothing  could 
be  expected  from  it.  It  would  also  seem  that 
at  this  time  he  must  have  received,  either  by 
telegraph  or  by  mail,  copies  of  the  correspond- 
ence and  call  which  Weitzel  had  authorized, 
and  which  had  been  published  that  morning. 
The  President  therefore  immediately  wrote  and 
sent  to  General  Weitzel  a  long  telegram,  in 
which  he  explained  his  course  with  such  clear- 
ness that  its  mere  perusal  sets  at  rest  all  con- 
troversy  respecting  either  hi  .mention 
of  policy  or  the-   V  rind 
order  i,  and  by  ;i  final  i 
mission  he  had  given  brought  *  .-.t  to 
its  natural  and  appropi  m  : 
I  have  just  s  you 
of  the  7th.    He  .at  I 
have  called  the  il 
gether,   as  the   rightful    I- 
settle  all  (h;  have 
done  no  such  thing.2 
islature,  bul  as  •■  the  g  ntlei  vt  acted  as 
the   legislature  of  Virginia  in  support  of  the   I 
lion."   I  did  this  'mi  purpose  to  exclude  the  assump- 
tion that  I  was  recognizing  them  as  a  rightful  body. 
I  dealt  with  them  as  men  having  power  dc  facto  to 
do  a  specific  thing,  to  wit  :   "  to  withdraw  the 
ginia  troops  and  other  support  from    resistafJ 
the  General  Government,"  for  which,  in  the  paper 
handed   to  Judge  Campbell,    I    promised  a  special 
equivalent,  to  wit :  a  remission  to  the  people  of  the 
State,  except  in  certain  cases,  of  the  confiscation  of 
their  property.    I  meant  this  and  no  more.    Inas- 
much,   however,  as  Judge  Campbell  misconstrues 
this,  and  is  still  pressing  for  an  armistice,  contra] 
the  explicit  statement  of  the  paper  I  gave  him,  and 
particularly  as  General  Grant  has  since  captured  the 
Virginia  troops,  so  that  giving  a  comideration  for 
their  withdrawal    is  no  longer   appl  t   my 
letter  to  you  and  the  paper  to  Judge  Campbell  both 
be  withdrawn  or  countermanded,  and  he  be  notified 
of  it.  Do  not  now  allow  them  to  assemble,  but  if 
any  have  come  allow  them  safe  return  to  their 
homes.3 
1  Lincoln  to  Weitzel,  April  12,  1865.  dently  written  from  memory,  without 
2  The   account    given  by   Admiral    Porter   of  this     dates  or  documents,  and  is  wholly  inaccurate, 
transaction,  in  his  "  Naval  History,"  p.    799,  is  evi-         3  Campbell,  pamphlet. 
^ 
WITH    A    COPY    OF  SHELLEY. 
BEHOLD  I  send  thee  to  the  heights  of  song, 
My  brother!  Let  thine  eyes  awake  as  clear 
As  morning  dew,  within  whose  glowing  sphere 
Is  mirrored  half  a  world  ;   and  listen  long. 
Till  in  thine  ears,  famished  to  keenness,  throng 
The  bugles  of  the  soul,  till  far  and  near 
Silence  grows  populous,  and  wind  and  mere 
Are  phantom-choked  with  voices.    Then  be  strong  — 
Then  halt  not  till  thou  seest  the  beacons  flare 
Souls  mad  for  truth  have  lit  from  peak  to  peak. 
Haste  on  to  breathe  the  intoxicating  air  — 
Wine  to  the  brave  and  poison  to  the  weak  — 
Far  in  the  blue  where  angels'  feet  have  trod. 
Where  earth  is  one  with  heaven  and  man  with  God. 
Harriet  M 
Vol.  XXXIX.— 44.
TOPICS    OF    THE    TIME. 
The  Foes  of  Civil  Service  Reform. 
\  DETERMINED  attempt  to  overthrow  the  civil 
^  V  service  rules  and  to  restore  the  spoils  system  may 
now  at  any  time  be  expected.  Areas  of  low  pressure 
are  reported  in  the  neighborhood  of  most  of  the  State 
capitals  ;  the  storm-center,  which  is  now  hovering  over 
Kansas,  is  rapidly  moving  eastward  ;  high  winds  and 
local  squalls  prevail  in  portions  of  Ohio,  Pennsylvania, 
New  York,  and  Maryland,  and  the  cyclone  may  strike 
Washington  about  the  first  of  December.  Storm-sig- 
nals should  be  displayed  upon  the  Capitol,  and  over 
the  front  portico  of  the  White  House. 
It  may  be  well  to  notice  that  the  storm  is  wholly  an 
artificial  product ;  the  /Eolus  who  carries  these  winds 
in  his  carpet-bag  is  always  a  local  politician.  The 
people  at  large  are  not  worrying  about  "  the  injus- 
tice and  oppression  "  of  the  civil  service  rules ;  so  far 
as  they  know,  these  rules  are  working  very  well.  It  is 
the  political  machinists  whose  wrath  is  kindled.  Nor 
is  this  any  unexpected  phenomenon.  Nobody  supposed 
that  the  professional  politicians  would  gracefully  sub- 
mit to  such  a  sharp  restriction  of  their  power.  The 
distribution  of  the  offices  among  their  friends  is  the 
final  cause  of  their  existence  as  politicians ;  when  they 
were  stripped  of  that  function,  their  occupation  was 
gone.  They  did  not  willingly  surrender  it;  when 
some  of  them  voted  to  part  with  it,  it  was  a  mere  po- 
litical trick,  and  they  meant  to  recover  it  at  no  distant 
day.  At  the  time  when  the  civil  service  measure  be- 
came a  law  it  was  pointed  out  in  these  columns  that 
the  action  of  Congress  was  not  sincere.  There  were 
a  few  men  in  both  parties  who  believed  in  the  reform  ; 
but  the  majority  in  favor  of  the  bill  was  gained  by  the 
votes  of  a  large  number  of  Republicans  who  wished 
to  prevent  the  Democrats,  then  apparently  about  to 
gain  possession  of  the  government,  from  turning  out 
their  friends.  The  civil  service  rules  would  be  a  bul- 
wark against  the  removal  of  Republicans  from  office ; 
as  such  they  were  zealously  supported  by  a  good  many 
Republican  politicians  so  long  as  the  Democrats  were 
in  power,  and  fiercely  opposed,  for  the  same  reason, 
by  many  Democratic  politicians.  But  as  soon  as  the  ad- 
ministration changed  the  case  was  bravely  altered.  The 
Democrats  are  now  doing  most  of  the  denouncing,  as 
witness  the  Ohio  resolutions,  anathematizing  "  the  Re- 
publican administration  for  its  repeated  violation  of 
its  pledges  in  behalf  of  civil  service  reform  "  ;  while 
the  Republican  bosses  are  cursing  themselves  for  their 
folly  in  permitting  their  own  hands  to  be  tied  by  these 
measures,  and  threatening  to  erase  them  from  the 
statute  books.  Not  a  few  prominent  Republican  lead- 
ers are  now  characterizing  civil  service  reform  as  a 
fraud  and  a  sham.  These  gentlemen  must  be  permitted 
to  speak  for  themselves.  What  they  have  done  to  pro- 
mote it  was  undoubtedly  a  fraud  and  a  sham.  That 
there  has  been  considerable  trickery  and  evasion  in  the 
administration  of  the  law  may  be  admitted.  That  the 
resolutions  of  the  political  conventions  of  both  parties 
indorsing  this  reform  have  been,  as  a  rule,  fraudulent 
and  hypocritical  is  also  probable.   If  this  is  what  these 
gentlemen  mean,  we  must  admit  that  they  know  what 
they  are  talking  about.  And  there  is  no  doubt  that 
great  efforts  have  been  made,  in  various  quarters,  to 
make  the  civil  service  reform  appear  to  be  a  fraud  and 
a  sham  by  getting  men  appointed  as  heads  of  depart- 
ments and  chiefs  of  bureaux  and  great  offices  who  do 
not  believe  in  the  reform,  and  who  are  determined,  if 
possible,  to  exhibit  its  methods  as  inefficient  and  odious. 
Much  more  of  this  kind  of  work  is  likely  to  be  done. 
The  more  adroit  opponents  of  civil  service  reform 
will  refrain  from  attacking  it  openly ;  they  will  be  well 
content  if  they  can  keep  its  administration  in  the  hands 
of  its  foes,  who  will  be  sure  to  prove  it  a  failure. 
Against  a  conspiracy  of  this  nature  the  public  may 
well  be  warned.  The  determination  to  break  down  the 
civil  service  rules  is  by  many  politicians  frankly 
avowed  and  by  many  others  secretly  cherished.  The 
great  majority  of  those  persons  who  manage  our  poli- 
tics and  who  manipulate  the  party  organs  may  be 
counted  as  the  open  or  insidious  foes  of  the  merit 
system.  The  establishment  of  this  system  was  extorted 
from  them  by  public  opinion;  it  must  be  defended 
against  them.  There  is  need,  just  now,  of  a  vigorous 
popular  campaign  against  the  spoilsmen.  A  thorough 
discussion  of  the  system,  its  principles  and  its  achieve- 
ments, would  be  extremely  useful  at  the  present  time. 
The  stupid  cant  of  the  spoilsmen  about  the  establish- 
ment of  "an  office-holding  aristocracy"  needs  to  be 
exposed,  and  the  fact  made  plain  that  the  merit  system 
is  the  only  method  of  distributing  appointive  offices 
upon  purely  democratic  principles.  The  managers  of 
the  party  machine  constitute,  in  fact,  an  office-holding 
"trust"  or  "combine,"  which  generally  manages  to 
monopolize  the  offices  and  to  shut  out  all  those  who 
do  not  belong  to  their  clique.  No  one  can  hope  for  an 
office  who  has  not  in  some  way  proved  himself  subser- 
vient to  them.  The  great  majority  of  intelligent,  capa- 
ble, self-respecting  young  men  have  no  more  prospect 
of  obtaining  office  under  the  spoils  system  than  if  they 
were  inhabitants  of  some  other  planet.  But  the  merit 
system  opens  the  doors  freely  and  equally  to  all.  The 
applicant  for  office  depends  not  upon  the  favor  of  the 
local  boss  or  the  member  of  Congress,  but  solely  on 
his  own  character  and  ability.  This  is  the  system  which 
the  spoilsmen  stigmatize  as  "a  relic  of  European  gov- 
ernments." It  is  easy  to  show  the  people  the  true  in- 
wardness of  the  spoilsman's  objection  and  the  hypoc- 
risy of  his  plea.  But  it  is  only  by  thorough  discussion 
and  systematic  agitation  that  the  cause  will  prosper; 
public  opinion  must  be  aroused  and  invigorated  ;  a 
powerful  interest  is  arrayed  against  the  reform,  and 
can  be  baffled  only  by  vigilant  and  resolute  effort  on 
the  part  of  its  friends. 
The  urgency  of  this  reform  was  never  more  appar- 
ent than  at  the  present  time.  Great  questions  of  adminis- 
tration seem  to  be  forcing  themselves  upon  the  American 
people.  In  spite  of  ourselves  we  have  already  been 
compelled  to  take  hold  of  the  railways.  Precisely  what 
shape  the  problem  of  supervision  or  regulation  will 
assume  we  cannot  tell ;  much  depends  upon  the  action 
of  the  railways  themselves.    But  it  is  possible  that  the
A    GO/)    OF   THE   AZTEC  . 
427 
"Aha!  "  said  the  little  man.  "  That 's  about 
right.  Half  the  time  I  'm  a  baker,  and  hall 
the  time  a  ghost.  And  now,  then,  if  you  folks 
care  to  hear  all  about  it,  I  'm  ready  to  talk." 
"  Care  to  hear!"  said  Dolor  Tripp.  "  I  'm 
on  pins  and  needles  to  hear !  " 
The  fire  was  now  built  up  afresh,  and  again 
we  placed  ourselves  on  our  chairs,  stools,  and 
boxes   about   the  hearth,   Griscom    Brothers 
(To  be  c 
haying  a  pku  e  m  the  middle,  b 
Tripp  and  Dori  .    I  that 
in  tin  ,  arrangement  th< 
out,  and  wa     landing  ba<  k  ol  oui  h 
Bui  asthe  .<  hoolm  humble 
minded  per  on  and  did  nol  appe  1 
his  position,  I  thought  il 
company  by  interruptii 
baker  had  just  begun. 
•ntinued.)  Frank  R 
A    GOD    OF    THK    AZTECS. 
[The  Aztecs  chose  a  youth  without  blemish,  gave  him  a  palace  and  household,  an     woi 
as  a  god  for  a  year,  and  then  sacrificed  him  to  the  god  he  represented,  j 
MY  fawn,  my  bride  of  an  hour, 
Dark  as  a  dusky  cloud, 
Lithe-limbed,  shadowy-browed, 
Why  do  you  droop  and  cower 
As  the  languid  lilies  nod 
With  the  weight  of  the  sunset  shower  ? 
Is  it  sad,  my  fawn,  my  flower, 
To  be  the  bride  of  a  god  ? 
Have  you  left  the  garden  gloom, 
To  be  sad  here  for  my  sake  — 
To  sit  in  the  pillared  room, 
With  your  tender,  tearful  gaze ; 
Have  you  left  the  garden  ways 
And  the  women  half  awake  — 
My  silent,  statuesque  women  — 
As  cool  and  calm  as  the  lake 
That  they  lave  the  languid  limb  in  ? 
Do  you  find  me  fair,  my  flower, 
That  you  look  with  troubled  eyes  — 
Fashioned  without  a  flaw 
For  a  god  and  a  sacrifice  ? 
I  walk  in  the  morning  hour 
And  the  people  gather  in  awe, 
The  people  gather  and  gaze 
As  I  walk  in  the  crowded  ways ; 
The  flowers  are  on  my  head, 
The  flowers  are  under  my  feet ; 
I  touch  my  lute  in  the  street, 
And  the  throng  with  the  lute  are  led. 
Do  you  shrink  from  the  scent  of  the  flowers  ? 
Do  you  start  at  the  lute's  soft  sound  ? 
Do  you  count  the  passing  hours  — 
The  hours  of  my  pomp  and  pride  — 
Do  you  think  of  the  day,  my  bride, 
That  the  circling  stars  bring  round, 
The  day  when  my  feet  shall  ascend 
Where  the  altar-stone  is  laid  — 
The  day  when  my  hand  shall  rend 
The  lute  whereon  I  have  played  — 
When  I  lay  my  godhood  down 
With  the  robes  that  the  god  arrayed, 
And  part  my  blossoming  crown, 
And  fling  the  flowers  to  the  gale 
From  the  temple  tops,  lor  a  token 
That  the  pride  of  man  shall  be  broken. 
And  the  beauty  of  man  shall  1. 
And  the  life  of  man  shall  fail  — 
When  we  wind  with  steps  unsteady 
Up  the  sides  of  the  pyramid, 
When  we  wind,  now  seen,  now  hid 
From  the  eyes  of  the  gazing  1  it)  — 
While  the  black-robed  priest  stands  ready 
With  the  sullen  fire  in  his  <. 
With  the  knife  for  the  sacrifice  — 
The  priest  who  has  outlived  pity  ? 
Do  you  start,  and  tremble,  and  si 
As  you  lie  on  my  heart,  my  bri 
Do  you  fancy  how  it  will  qui\er 
As  it  quivers  against  your  own. 
Rent  from  the  shuddering  - 
Held  up  to  the  sun  on  high  — 
Cast  on  the  altar-stone  ? 
And  is  it  so  sad,  my  bride. 
To  have  been  a  i;od  —  and  to  die  ? 
I  am  fair,  my  flower,  my  fawn. 
I  am  strong  and  supple  and  slim  — 
I  must  die  in  my  perfect  dawn. 
With  the  bowl  oi  life  at  the  brim. 
Ere  the  foot  can  gather  a  -tain 
From  the  earth  it  has  scarcely  trod. 
Or  the  eye  begin  to  dim. 
Or  the  blood  begin  to  wane 
From  body,  and  brow,  and  limb 
That  have  borne  the  r. 
My  heart  shall  break  on  the  altar. 
And  yours  shall  break  for  this ! 
I  will  drain  your  love  like  wine. 
At  the  single  draught  1 
And  grow  too  strong  to  falter 
For  the  thought  of  the  things  I 
And  upon  your  lips  resign 
The  less  for  the  larger  bh>s  — 
The  smiles  that  might  have  been  mine 
For  one  of  your  tender  tears, 
And  a  life  of  common  ; 
For  a  year  of  the  life  divine  ! 
V    C;      Helen  Thayer  B
ANDREW    JOHNSON.       (FROM     A     PHOTOGRAPH     BY     BRADY.) 
ABRAHAM    LINCOLN:    A    HISTORY.1 
THE    FOURTEENTH    OF   APRIL  — THE    FATE    OF    THE    ASSASSINS 
—  THE    MOURNING    PAGEANT. 
BY   JOHN    G.    NICOLAY    AND    JOHN    HAY,    PRIVATE    SECRETARIES    TO    THE    PRESIDENT. 
THE    FOURTEENTH    OF    APRIL. 
HE  14th  of  April  was  a  day  of 
deep  and  tranquil  happiness 
throughout  the  United  States. 
It  was  Good  Friday,  observed 
by  a  portion  of  the  people  as  an 
occasion  of  fasting  and  religious 
meditation  ;  but  even  among  the  most  devout 
the  great  tidings  of  the  preceding  week  exerted 
their  joyous  influence,  and  changed  this  period 
of  traditional  mourning  into  an  occasion  of 
& 
general  and  profound  thanksgiving.  Peace, 
so  strenuously  fought  for,  so  long  sought  and 
prayed  for,  with  prayers  uttered  and  unutter- 
able, was  at  last  near  at  hand,  its  dawn  visible 
on  the  reddening  hills.  The  sermons  all  day 
were  full  of  gladness;  the  Misereres  turned  of 
themselves  to  Te  Deums.  The  country  from 
morning  till  evening  was  filled  with  a  solemn 
joy;  but  the  date  was  not  to  lose  its  awful 
significance  in  the  calendar :  at  night  it  was 
claimed  once  more,  and  forever,  by  a  world- 
wide sorrow. 
1  Copyright  by  J.  G.  Nicolay  and  John  Hay,  1886.     All  rights  reserved.
77/J>:    FOURTEENTH    0/    APRIL, 
The  thanksgiving  of  the  nation  found  its 
principal  expression  at  Charleston  harbor.  A 
month  before,  when  Sherman  had  "  conquered 
Charleston  by  turning  his  back  upon  it,"  the 
Government  resolved  that  the  flag  of  the 
Union  should  receive  a  conspicuous  reparation 
on  the  spot  where  it  had  first  been  outraged. 
It  was  ordered  by  the  President  that  General 
Robert  Anderson  should,  at  the  hour  of  noon 
on  the  14th  day  of  April,  raise  and  plant  on  the 
ruins  of  Fort  Sumter  the  identical  flag  lowered 
and  saluted  by  him  four  years  before.  In  the 
absence  of  General  Sherman  the  ceremonies 
were  in  the  charge  of  General  Gillmore.  Henry 
Ward  Beecher,  the  most  famous  of  the  anti- 
slavery  preachers  of  the  North,  was  selected 
to  deliver  an  oration.  The  surrender  of  Lee,  the 
news  of  which  arrived  at  Charleston  on  the  eve 
of  the  ceremonies,  gave  a  more  transcendent 
importance  to  the  celebration,  which  became 
at  once  the  occasion  of  a  national  thanksgiving 
over  the  downfall  of  the  rebellion.  On  the  day 
fixed,  Charleston  was  filled  with  a  great  con- 
course of  distinguished  officers  and  citizens. 
Its  long-deserted  streets  were  crowded  with 
an  eager  multitude  and  gay  with  innumerable 
flags,  while  the  air  was  thrilled  from  an  early 
hour  with  patriotic  strains  from  the  many 
bands,  and  shaken  with  the  thunder  of  Dahl- 
gren's  fleet,  which  opened  the  day  by  firing 
from  every  vessel  a  national  salute  of  twenty- 
one  guns.  By  eleven  o'clock  a  brilliant  gather- 
ing of  boats,  ships,  and  steamers  of  every  sort 
had  assembled  around  the  battered  ruin  of  the 
fort ;  the  whole  bay  seemed  covered  with  the 
vast  flotilla,  planted  with  a  forest  of  masts, 
whose  foliage  was  the  triumphant  banners  of 
the  nation.  The  same  chaplain1  who  had  of- 
ficiated at  the  raising  of  the  flag  over  Sumter, 
at  the  first  scene  of  the  war,  now  offered  a 
prayer ;  Dr.  Richard  S.  Storrs  and  the  people 
read,  in  alternate  verses,  a  selection  of  psalms 
of  thanksgiving  and  victory,  beginning  with 
these  marvelous  words  which  have  preserved 
for  so  many  ages  the  very  pulse  and  throb  of 
the  joy  of  redemption : 
When  the'  Lord  turned  again  the  captivity  of 
Zion,  we  were  like  them  that  dream. 
Then  was  our  mouth  filled  with  laughter,  and 
our  tongue  with  singing:  then  said  they  among  the 
heathen,  The  Lord  hath  done  great  things  for  them. 
The  Lord  hath  done  great  things  for  us  ;  whereof 
we  are  glad. 
Turn  again  our  captivity,  O  Lord,  as  the  streams 
in  the  south. 
They  that  sow  in  tears  shall  reap  in  joy. 
Hethatgoeth  forth  and  weepeth,  bearing  precious 
seed,  shall  doubtless  come  again  with  rejoicing, 
bringing  his  sheaves  with  him. 
1  The  Rev.  Matthias  Harris. 
2  Gen.  E.  D.  Townsend,  afterwards  Adjutant-Gen- 
eral, U.  S.  A. 
Vol.  XXXIX.— 60-61. 
And  ;it  tllC  do  1,  the  peo- 
ple and  the  mini 
voire  that  teemed  to  1  it<  h 
the  hour : 
Some  trust  in  chariot  ,  and  fomc  in  nonet:  but 
wc  will  remembei  th  our  Cod. 
Wc  will  rejoice  in  th) 
of  our  God  we  w:ll  Kl   up  0  .: 
General  Townsend 2  th 
dispatch  announcing  the  fall  of  Sumter, 
precisely  as  the  bell.-,  of  th 
hour  of  noon,  General  A 
hands  seizing  the  halyards, 
the  flag  which  he  had  seen  lowered  i 
opening  guns  of  rebellion.    A,  the  Starry  ban- 
ner floated  out  upon  the  breeze,  which  fr 
ened  at  the  moment  as  if   to  -  it,  a 
storm  of  joyful  acclamation  burst  forth   : 
the  vast  assembly,  mingled  with  the  1 
hundreds  of  instruments,  the    shouts  of   the 
people,   and  the    full-throated  r 
guns  from  the  Union  and  the  captured  n 
forts  alike,  on  every  side  of  the  harbor,  thu:. 
ing  their  harmonious  salute   to   the 
banner.    General  And'  le  a  brie: 
touching  speech,  the  people  sang  "The  S 
Spangled  Banner,"  Mr.  Beecher  delivered  an 
address  in  his  best  and  gravest  manner.  : 
with  an  earnest,  sincere,  and  unboastrul  spirit 
of  nationality ;  with  a  feeling  of  brotherhood  to 
the  South,  prophesying  for  that  section  the 
vantages  which  her  defeat  has  in  fact  brought 
her;  a  speech  as  brave,  as  gentle,  and  as  mag- 
nanimous as  the  occasion  demanded.    In  con- 
cluding he  said,  and  we  quote  his  word.-,  as  they 
embodied  the  opinion  of  all  men  of  good  will 
on  this  last  day  of  Abraham  Lincoln's  life  : 
We  offer  to  the  President  0:"  xates 
our  solemn  congratulations  that  God  has  nista 
his  life  and  health  under  the  unparalleled  burdens 
and  sufferings  of  four  bloody  years,  and  permitted 
him  to  behold  this  auspicious  consummation  of  that 
national  unity  for  which  he  has  w.iited  with  so 
much  patience  and  fortitude,  and  for  which  he  has 
labored  with  such  disinterested  wisdom. 
At  sunset  another  national  salute  was  tired  : 
the  evening  was  given  up  to  social  ft 
the  most  distinguished  of  the  visitors  were  en- 
tertained at  supper  by  Genera]  Gflbnon 
brilliant  show  of  fireworks  by  Admiral  Dahl- 
gren  illuminated  the  bay  and  the  circle  of  now 
friendly  forts,  at  the  very  moment  when  at  the 
capital  of  the  nation  a  little  groi 
tors  were  preparing  the  bla       •  hieh 
sullies  the  record  of  the  century. 
In  Washington  also  it        s  QOt  ot 
exultation,  but  of  deep  peace  and  thankful- 
It  was  the  fifth  day  after  the  surrender  of  I 
the  first  effervescence  of  that  intoxicating  - 
cess  had  passed   away.    The   President  had.
43° 
ABRAHAM  LINCOLN. 
with  that  ever-present  sense  of  responsibility 
which  distinguished  him,  given  his  thoughts 
instantly  to  the  momentous  question  of  the  res- 
toration of  the  Union  and  harmony  between 
the  lately  warring  sections.  He  had,  in  defi- 
ance of  precedent  and  even  of  his  own  habit, 
delivered  to  the  people  on  the  nth,  from  the 
windows  of  the  White  House,  his  well-consid- 
ered views  as  to  the  measures  demanded  by 
the  times.  His  whole  heart  wras  now  enlisted 
in  the  work  of  "  binding  up  the  nation's 
wounds,"  of  doing  all  which  might  "  achieve 
and  cherish  a  just  and  lasting  peace."  Grant 
had  arrived  that  morning  in  Washington  and 
immediately  proceeded  to  the  Executive  Man- 
sion, where  he  met  the  Cabinet,  Friday  being 
their  regular  day  of  meeting.  He  expressed 
some  anxiety  as  to  the  news  from  Sherman, 
which  he  was  expecting  hourly.  The  Presi- 
dent answered  him  in  that  singular  vein  of 
poetic  mysticism  which,  though  constantly 
held  in  check  by  his  strong  common  sense, 
formed  a  remarkable  element  in  his  character. 
He  assured  Grant  that  the  news  would  come 
soon  and  come  favorably,  for  he  had  last 
night  had  his  usual  dream  which  preceded 
great  events.  He  seemed  to  be,  he  said,  in  a 
singular  and  indescribable  vessel,  but  always 
the  same,  moving  with  great  rapidity  towards 
a  dark  and  indefinite  shore ;  he  had  had  this 
dream  before  Antietam,  Murfreesboro',  Gettys- 
burg, and  Vicksburg.  The  Cabinet  were  greatly 
impressed  by  this  story ;  but  Grant,  the  most 
matter-of-fact  of  created  beings,  made  the 
characteristic  response  that  "  Murfreesboro' 
was  no  victory,  and  had  no  important  results." 
The  President  did  not  argue  this  point  with 
him,  but  repeated  that  Sherman  would  beat 
or  had  beaten  Johnston ;  that  his  dream  must 
relate  to  that,  as  he  knew  of  no  other  impor- 
tant event  which  was  likely  at  present  to  occur.1 
The  subject  of  the  discussion  which  took 
place  in  the  Cabinet  on  that  last  day  of  Lin- 
coln's firm  and  tolerant  rule  has  been  pre- 
served for  us  in  the  notes  of  Mr.  Welles. 
They  were  written  out,  it  is  true,  seven  years 
afterwards,  at  a  time  when  Grant  was  Presi- 
dent, seeking  reelection,  and  when  Mr.  Welles 
had  followed  Andrew  Johnson  into  full  fellow- 
ship with  the  Democratic  party.  Making  what- 
ever allowance  is  due  for  the  changed  environ- 
ment of  the  writer,  we  still  find  his  account2 
of  the  day's  conversation  candid  and  trust- 
worthy.    The  subject  of  trade  between   the 
1  This  story  is  told  by  the  Hon.  Gideon  Welles  in  an 
article  printed  in  "  The  Galaxy  "  for  April,  1872.  It  was 
frequently  told  by  Charles  Dickens  with  characteristic 
amplifications.    See  also  "The  Life  of  George  Eliot." 
2  "The  Galaxy,"  April,  1872. 
3  Welles,  in  "  The  Galaxy." 
4  Near  the  close  of  the  war  his  old  friend,  Joseph 
Gillespie,  asked  him  what  was  to  be  done  with  the 
States  was  the  first  that  engaged  the  attention 
of  the  Cabinet.  Mr.  Stanton  wished  it  to  be 
carried  on  under  somewhat  strict  military 
supervision;  Mr.  Welles  was  in  favor  of  a 
more  liberal  system ;  Mr.  McCulloch,  new  to 
the  Treasury,  and  embarrassed  by  his  grave 
responsibilities,  favored  the  abolition  of  the 
Treasury  agencies,  and  above  all  desired  a 
definite  understanding  of  the  purpose  of  the 
Government.  The  President,  seeing  that  in 
this  divergence  of  views  among  men  equally 
able  and  honest  there  lay  the  best  chance  of  a 
judicious  arrangement,  appointed  the  three  Sec- 
retaries as  a  commission  with  plenary  power  to 
examine  the  whole  subject,  announcing  himself 
as  content  in  advance  with  their  conclusions. 
The  great  subject  of  the  reestablishment  of 
civil  government  in  the  Southern  States  was 
then  taken  up.  Mr.  Stanton  had,  a  few  days 
before,  drawn  up  a  project  for  an  executive 
ordinance  for  the  preservation  of  order  and 
the  rehabilitation  of  legal  processes  in  the 
States  lately  in  rebellion.  The  President,  using 
this  sketch  as  his  text,  not  adopting  it  as  a 
whole,  but  saying  that  it  was  substantially  the 
result  of  frequent  discussions  in  the  Cabinet, 
spoke  at  some  length  on  the  question  of  recon- 
struction, than  which  none  more  important 
could  ever  engage  the  attention  of  the  Govern- 
ment. It  wTas  providential,  he  thought,  that 
this  matter  should  have  arisen  at  a  time  when 
it  could  be  considered,  so  far  as  the  Executive 
was  concerned,  without  interference  by  Con- 
gress. If  they  were  wise  and  discreet,  they 
should  reanimate  the  States  and  get  their 
governments  in  successful  operation,  with 
order  prevailing  and  the  Union  reestablished, 
before  Congress  came  together  in  December. 
The  President  felt  so  kindly  towards  the 
South,  he  was  so  sure  of  the  Cabinet  under 
his  guidance,  that  he  was  anxious  to  close  the 
period  of  strife  without  overmuch  discussion. 
He  was  particularly  desirous  to  avoid  the 
shedding  of  blood,  or  any  vindictiveness  of 
punishment.  He  gave  plain  notice  that  morn- 
ing that  he  would  have  none  of  it.  "  No  one 
need  expect  he  would  take  any  part  in  hang- 
ing or  killing  these  men,  even  the  worst  of 
them.3  Frighten  them  out  of  the  country, 
open  the  gates,  let  down  the  bars,  scare  them 
off,"  said  he,  throwing  up  his  hands  as  if  scar- 
ing sheep.  "  Enough  lives  have  been  sacri- 
ficed ;  we  must  extinguish  our  resentments  if 
we  expect  harmony  and  union."4    He  depre- 
rebels.  He  answered,  after  referring  to  the  vehement 
demand  prevalent  in  certain  quarters  for  exemplary 
punishment,  by  quoting  the  words  of  David  to  his 
nephews,  who  were  asking  for  vengeance  on  Shimei 
because  "he  cursed  the  Lord's  anointed":  "What 
have  I  to  do  with  you,  ye  sons  of  Zeruiah,  that  ye 
should  this  day  be  adversaries  unto  me  ?  vShall  there 
any  man  be  put  to  death  this  day  in  Israel  ?  "
THE  FOURTEENTH  OF  APRIL 
43' 
cated  the  disposition  he  had  seen  in  some 
quarters  to  hector  and  dictate  to  the  people 
of  the  South,  who  were  trying  to  right  them- 
selves. He  regretted  that  suffrage,  under 
proper  arrangement,  had  not  been  given  to 
negroes  in  Louisiana,  but  he  held  that  their 
constitution  was  in  the  main  a  good  one. 
He  was  averse  to  the  exercise  of  arbitrary 
powers  by  the  Executive  or  by  Congress. 
Congress  had  the  undoubted  right  to  receive 
or  reject  members;  the  Executive  had  no 
control  in  this;  but  the  Executive  could  do 
very  much  to  restore  order  in  the  States,  and 
their  practical  relations  with  the  Government, 
before  Congress  came  together. 
Mr.  Stanton  then  read  his  plan  for  the  tem- 
porary military  government  of  the  States  of 
Virginia  and  North  Carolina,  which  for  this 
purpose  were  combined  in  one  department. 
This  gave  rise  at  once  to  extended  discussion, 
Mr.  Welles  and  Mr.  Dennison  opposing  the 
scheme  of  uniting  two  States  under  one  gov- 
ernment. The  President  closed  the  session  by 
saying  the  same  objection  had  occurred  to  him, 
and  by  directing  Mr.  Stanton  to  revise  the 
document  and  report  separate  plans  for  the 
government  of  the  two  States.  He  did  not 
wish  the  autonomy  nor  the  individuality  of  the 
States  destroyed.  He  commended  the  whole 
subject  to  the  most  earnest  and  careful  consid- 
eration of  the  Cabinet;  it  was  to  be  resumed 
on  the  following  Tuesday ;  it  was,  he  said,  the 
great  question  pending — they  must  now  begin 
to  act  in  the  interest  of  peace. 
These  were  the  last  words  that  Lincoln  spoke 
to  his  Cabinet.  They  dispersed  with  these  words 
of  clemency  and  good-will  in  their  ears,  never 
again  to  meet  under  his  wise  and  benignant 
chairmanship.  He  had  told  them  that  morn- 
ing a  strange  story,  which  made  some  demand 
upon  their  faith,  but  the  circumstances  under 
which  they  were  next  to  come  together  were 
beyond  the  scope  of  the  wildest  fancy.  The 
day  was  one  of  unusual  enjoyment  to  Mr. 
Lincoln.  His  son  Robert  had  returned  from 
the  field  with  General  Grant,  and  the  President 
spent  an  hour  with  the  young  soldier  in 
delighted  conversation  over  the  campaign. 
He  denied  himself  generally  to  the  throng  of 
visitors,  admitting  only  a  few  friends. 
Schuyler  Colfax,  who  was  contemplating  a 
visit  overland  to  the  Pacific,  came  to  ask 
whether  the  President  would  probably  call  an 
extra  session  of  Congress  during  the  summer. 
Mr.  Lincoln  assured  him  that  he  had  no  such 
intention,  and  gave  him  a  verbal  message  to 
1  All  Presidents  receive  the  visits  of  persons  more  or 
less  demented.  Mr.  Hayes,  when  about  to  retire  one 
day  from  his  working-room,  asked  his  messenger  if 
there  was  any  one  waiting  to  see  him.  "  Only  two," 
the  attendant  replied,  "and  one  of  them  is  crazy." 
the  mining  population  .  the 
western  slope  ,,\  the  mo  ml  b 
the  pan  • 
quest  i  ol 
afternoon  he  wreni  for  a  I  n 
Lincoln.    I li i  u\<><><\,  as  it  . 
was  singularly  happ)  and  I 
much  of  the  pa  i  and  the  I  •  i 
years  of  trouble  and  tumult  he  lo 
to  four  years  of  comparative  qui  mal 
work;  after  that   i 
Illinois  and  practice  law  again.    1 1 
simpler  or  gentler  than  on  Una  day  oi  ma 
cedented  triumph;    his  heart  01 
sentiments  of  gratitude  to  Heaven,  which  | 
the  shape  usual  to  generous  nature 
and  kindness  to  all  men. 
From  the  very  beginning  of  hn  P 
Mr.  Lincoln  had  been  constantly  subjei 
the  threats  of  his  enemies  and  the  wan. 
of  his  friends.    The  threats  came  in  every  form  ; 
his  mail  was  infested  with  brutal  and  v.. 
menace,  mostly  anonymous,  the  pi 
pression   of  vile   and   cowardly   mi: 
warnings  were  not  less  numerous  ;  the  vapor- 
ings  of  village  bullies,  the  extravagant  e 
excited  secessionist  politicians,  even  the  droll- 
ing of  practical  jokers,  were  faithfully  rep   I 
to  him  by  zealous  or  nervous  friends.    M 
these  communications  received  no  notice.    In 
cases  where  there  seemed  a  ground  for  inquiry 
it  was  made,  as  carefully  as  p<  -  the 
President's  private  secretary  and  by  the  War 
Department,  but  always  without  substantia]  re- 
sult. Warnings  that  appeared  to  be  most 
nite,  when  they  came  to  be  examined  pr 
too  vague  and  confused  for  further  attenti 
The  President  was  too  intelligent  not  to  know 
he  was  in  some  danger.    Madmen  frequently 
made  their  way  to  the  very  door  of  the  Kxecu- 
tive  offices  and  sometimes  into  Mr.  Lint 
presence.1    He  had  himself  so  sane  a  mind, 
and  a  heart  so  kindly  even  to  his  enemies,  that 
it  was  hard  for  him  to  believe  in  a  political  ha- 
tred so  deadly  as  to  lead  to  murder.    He  would 
sometimes  laughingly  say.  "  Our  friends  on  the 
other  side  would  make  nothing  by  e\c":    ugh  _ 
me  for  Hamlin,"  the  Vice- President  ha 
the  reputation  o\  more  radical  views  than  his 
chief. 
He  knew  indeed  that  incitements  to  murder 
him  were  not  uncommon  in  the  South.   A- 
vertisement  had  appeared  in  a  paper  of  Selma, 
Alabama,  in  December.  iS  sub- 
scription for  funds  to  effect  the  :ion 
of  Lincoln,  Seward,  and   Fohnson  before  the 
"Send  in  the  sane  one."'  said  the  President 
looking  man  was  introduced,  wh  oed  himself 
as  the  emperor  of  the  world.      1"  :  rang  the 
bell,  and  told  the  messenger  if  that  was  his  idea  of 
sanity  to  send  in  the  maniac.
43- 
ABRAHAM  LINCOLN. 
inauguration.1  There  was  more  of  this  mur- 
derous spirit  abroad  than  was  suspected.  A 
letter  was  found  in  the  Confederate  Archives2 
from  one  Lieutenant  Alston,  who  wrote  to 
Jefferson  Davis  immediately  after  Lincoln's 
reelection  offering  to  "  rid  his  country  of  some 
of  her  deadliest  enemies  by  striking  at  the  very 
heart's  blood  of  those  who  seek  to  enchain  her 
in  slavery."  This  shameless  proposal  was  re- 
ferred, by  Mr.  Davis's  direction,  to  the  Secre- 
tary of  War;  and  by  Judge  Campbell,  Assistant 
Secretary  of  War,  was  sent  to  the  Confederate 
Adjutant- General  indorsed  "  for  attention." 
We  can  readily  imagine  what  reception  an 
officer  would  have  met  with  who  should  have 
laid  before  Mr.  Lincoln  a  scheme  to  assassinate 
Jefierson  Davis.  It  was  the  uprightness  and 
the  kindliness  of  his  own  heart  that  made  him 
slow  to  believe  that  any  such  ignoble  fury  could 
find  a  place  in  the  hearts  of  men  in  their  right 
minds.  Although  he  freely  discussed  with  the 
officials  about  him  the  possibilities  of  danger,  he 
always  considered  them  remote,  as  is  the  habit 
of  men  constitutionally  brave,  and  positively 
refused  to  torment  himself  with  precautions  for 
his  own  safety.  He  would  sum  the  matter  up 
by  saying  that  both  friends  and  strangers  must 
have  daily  access  to  him  in  all  manner  of  ways 
and  places;  his  life  was  therefore  in  reach  of 
any  one,  sane  or  mad,  who  was  ready  to  mur- 
der and  be  hanged  for  it;  that  he  could  not 
possibly  guard  against  all  danger  unless  he 
were  to  shut  himself  up  in  an  iron  box,  in 
which  condition  he  could  scarcely  perform  the 
duties  of  a  President ;  by  the  hand  of  a  mur- 
derer he  could  die  only  once;  to  go  continually 
in  fear  would  be  to  die  over  and  over.  He 
therefore  went  in  and  out  before  the  people, 
always  unarmed,  generally  unattended.  He 
would  receive  hundreds  of  visitors  in  a  day, 
his  breast  bare  to  pistol  or  knife.  He  would 
walk  at  midnight,  with  a  single  secretary  or 
alone,  from  the  Executive  Mansion  to  the 
War  Department,  and  back.  He  would  ride 
through  the  lonely  roads  of  an  uninhabited 
suburb  from  the  White  House  to  the  Soldiers' 
Home  in  the  dusk  of  evening,  and  return  to 
his  work  in  the  morning  before  the  town  was 
astir.  He  was  greatly  annoyed  when,  late  in 
the  war,  it  was  decided  that  there  must  be  a 
guard  stationed  at  the  Executive  Mansion,  and 
that  a  squad  of  cavalry  must  accompany  him 
on  his  daily  ride  — but  he  was  always  reason- 
able and  yielded  to  the  best  judgment  of  others. 
Four  years  of  threats  and  boastings,  of 
alarms  that  were  not  founded,  and  of  plots 
1  Pitman,  Conspiracy  Trial,  p.  51. 
2  Ibid.,  p.  52.  3  541  H  Street. 
4  Pitman,  p.  45. 
5  He  was  seized  and  held  back  by  John  W.  West- 
fall,  of  the  Capitol  Police. 
that  came  to  nothing,  thus  passed  away;  but 
precisely  at  the  time  when  the  triumph  of  the 
nation  over  the  long  insurrection  seemed  as- 
sured, and  a  feeling  of  peace  and  security  was 
diffused  over  the  country,  one  of  the  conspir- 
acies, not  seemingly  more  important  than  the 
many  abortive  ones,  ripened  in  the  sudden 
heat  of  hatred  and  despair.  A  little  band  of 
malignant  secessionists,  consisting  of  John 
Wilkes  Booth,  an  actor,  of  a  famous  family  of 
players,  Lewis  Powell,  alias  Payne,  a  disbanded 
rebel  soldier  from  Florida,  George  Atzerodt, 
formerly  a  coachmaker,  but  more  recently  a  spy 
and  blockade  runner  of  the  Potomac,  David 
E.  Herold,  a  young  druggist's  clerk,  Samuel 
Arnold  and  Michael  O'Laughlin,  Maryland 
secessionists  and  Confederate  soldiers,  and 
John  H.  Surratt,  had  their  ordinary  rendez- 
vous at  the  house  of  Mrs.  Mary  E.  Surratt,3  the 
widowed  mother  of  the  last  named,  formerly  a 
woman  of  some  property  in  Maryland,  but  re- 
duced by  reverses  to  keeping  a  small  boarding- 
house  in  Washington.  Booth  was  the  leader 
of  the  little  coterie.  He  was  a  young  man  of 
twenty-six,  strikingly  handsome,  with  a  pale 
olive  face,  dark  eyes,  and  that  ease  and  grace 
of  manner  which  came  to  him  of  right  from  his 
theatrical  ancestors.  He  had  played  for  sev- 
eral seasons  with  only  indifferent  success  ;  his 
value  as  an  actor  lay  rather  in  his  romantic 
beauty  of  person  than  in  any  talent  or  indus- 
try he  possessed.  He  was  a  fanatical  seces- 
sionist; had  assisted  at  the  capture  and  exe- 
cution of  John  Brown,  and  had  imbibed,  at 
Richmond  and  other  Southern  cities  where 
he  had  played,  a  furious  spirit  of  partisanship 
against  Lincoln  and  the  Union  party.  After 
the  reelection  of  Mr.  Lincoln,  which  rang  the 
knell  of  the  insurrection,  Booth,  like  many  of 
the  secessionists  North  and  South,  was  stung 
to  the  quick  by  disappointment.  He  visited 
Canada,  consorted  with  the  rebel  emissaries 
there,  and  at  last  — whether  or  not  at  their  in- 
stigation cannot  certainly  be  said  —  conceived 
a  scheme  to  capture  the  President  and  take 
him  to  Richmond.  He  spent  a  great  part  of 
the  autumn  and  winter  inducing  a  small  num- 
ber of  loose  fish  of  secession  sympathies  to  join 
him  in  this  fantastic  enterprise.  He  seemed 
always  well  supplied  with  money,  and  talked 
largely  of  his  speculations  in  oil  as  a  source  of 
income;  but  his  agent  afterwards  testified4  that 
he  never  realized  a  dollar  from  that  source; 
that  his  investments,  which  were  inconsider- 
able, were  a  total  loss.  The  winter  passed 
away  and  nothing  was  accomplished.  On  the 
4th  of  March,  Booth  was  at  the  Capitol  and 
created  a  disturbance  by  trying  to  force  his 
way  through  the  line  of  policemen  who  guarded 
the  passage  through  which  the  President 
walked  to  the  east  front  of  the  building.5   His
THE  FOURTEENTH  OF  APRIL. 
intentions  at  this  time  are  not  known  ;    he 
afterwards  said1  he  lost  an  excellent  chance 
of  killing  the  President  that  day.  There  arc- 
indications  in  the  evidence  given  on  the  trial 
of  the  conspirators  that  they  suffered  some- 
great  disappointment  in  their  schemes  in  the 
latter  part  of  March,  and  a  letter  from  Arnold 
to  Booth,2  dated  March  27,  showed  that  some 
of  them  had  grown  timid  of  the  consequences 
of  their  contemplated  enterprise  and  were 
ready  to  give  it  up.  He  advised  Booth,  before 
going  further,  "to  go  and  see  how  it  will  be 
taken  in  R — d."  But  timid  as  they  might  be 
by  nature,  the  whole  group  was  so  completely 
under  the  ascendency  of  Booth  that  they  did 
not  dare  disobey  him  when  in  his  presence; 
and  after  the  surrender  of  Lee,  in  an  access 
of  malice  and  rage  which  was  akin  to  madness, 
he  called  them  together  and  assigned  each  his 
part  in  the  new  crime,  the  purpose  of  which  had 
arisen  suddenly  in  his  mind  out  of  the  ruins 
of  the  abandoned  abduction  scheme.  This 
plan  was  as  brief  and  simple  as  it  was  horrible. 
Powell,  alias  Payne,  the  stalwart,  brutal,  sim- 
ple-minded boy  from  Florida,  was  to  murder 
Seward;  Atzerodt,  the  comic  villain  of  the 
drama,  was  assigned  to  remove  Andrew  John- 
son; Booth  reserved  for  himself  the  most 
difficult  and  most  conspicuous  role  of  the 
tragedy ;  it  was  Herold's  duty  to  attend  him 
as  a  page  and  aid  in  his  escape.  Minor  parts 
were  assigned  to  stage  carpenters  and  other 
hangers-on,  who  probably  did  not  understand 
what  it  all  meant.  Herold,  Atzerodt,  and 
Surratt  had  previously  deposited  at  a  tavern 
at  Surrattsville,  Maryland,  owned  by  Mrs. 
Surratt,  but  kept  by  a  man  named  Lloyd,  a 
quantity  of  ropes,  carbines,  ammunition,  and 
whisky,  which  were  to  be  used  in  the  abduc- 
tion scheme.  On  the  1 1  th  of  April  Mrs.  Surratt, 
being  at  the  tavern,  told  Lloyd  to  have  the 
shooting  irons  in  readiness,  and  on  Friday,  the 
14th,  again  visited  the  place  and  told  him 
they  would  probably  be  called  for  that  night. 
The  preparations  for  the  final  blow  were 
made  with  feverish  haste ;  it  was  only  about 
noon  of  the  14th  that  Booth  learned  the 
President  was  to  go  to  Ford's  Theater  that 
night.  It  has  always  been  a  matter  of  surprise 
in  Europe  that  he  should  have  been  at  a  place 
of  amusement  on  Good  Friday;  but  the  day 
was  not  kept  sacred  in  America,  except  by 
the  members  of  certain  churches.  It  was  not, 
throughout  the  country,  a  day  of  religious  ob- 
servance. The  President  was  fond  of  the 
theater ;  it  was  one  of  his  few  means  of  rec- 
reation. It  was  natural  enough  that,  on  this 
day  of  profound  national   thanksgiving,   he 
1  Pitman,  p.  45. 
2  Ibid.,  p.  236. 
3  John  F.  Coyle,  MS.  Statement. 
should    take 
taxation  to  tee  1  1  on* 
was  thronged  with  ,  all 
eager  tO  see   him;   it    v. 
that  appearing  00  1  tonally  m  pubuV    would 
gratify  many  peopl<:  whom  he  I  Ottld  not  Otl 
wise  meet.    Mr,.  Lincoln  had  asked  G 
and  Mrs.  Granl  to  &  1  ompany  fa 
accepted,  and    the    armour 
would  be  present  was  made  a    an 
ment  in  the  evening  papers  ;  bill  1 
their  minds  and  wenl    north  by  an  after: 
train.    Mrs.  Lincoln  then  invited  in  t: 
Miss  Harris  arid  Major  Rati,  laughter 
and  the  stepson  of  Senator  Ham  .     I 
dent's  carriage  called  for  these  y >',::.. 
and  the  four  went    together  to  the 
The  President  had  been  detained  by  risil 
and  the  play  had  made  some  pf 
he  arrived.    When  he  appeared  in  hifl  box  the 
band  struck  up  "Hail  to  the  Chief."  the  ai 
ceased  playing,  and  the  audien« 
ing  tumultously ;  the  President  bowed  in 
knowledgment  of  this  greeting  and  the  play 
went  on. 
From  the  moment  Booth  ascertained  the 
President's  intention  to  attend  the  theater  in 
the  evening  his  every  action  was   alert  and 
energetic.    He  and  his  confederates,  Herold, 
Surratt,  and  Atzerodt,  were  seen  on  horse': 
in  every  part  of  the  city.    He  had  a  bun 
conference  with  Mrs.  Surratt  1  >ef«  >re  sfa 
for  Lloyd's  tavern.    He  intrusted  to  an  a 
named  Matthews  a  carefully  prepar 
ment  of  his  reasons  for  committing  the  mur 
which  he  charged  him  to  give  to  the  publisher 
of  the  "  National    Intelligencer,"  but   which 
Matthews,  in  the  terror  and  dismay  of  the 
night,  burned  without  showing  t<>  any  one.3 
Booth  was  perfectly  at  home  in  I"  iter, 
where  he  was  greatly  liked  by  all   the 
ployees,  without  other  reason  than  the  suffi- 
cient one  of  his  youth  and  good  looks.    Kither 
by  himself  or  with  the  aid  of  bis  friends  he 
arranged  his  whole  plan  of  attack  and  es* 
during  the  afternoon.    He  counted  upon 
dress  and  audacity  to  gain  access  to  the  small 
passage  behind  the  President's  box ;  once  t b 
he  guarded  against  interference  by  an  amm 
ment  of  a  wooden  bar  to  be  fastened  by  I 
simple  mortise  in  the  angle  of  the  wall  and 
the  door  by   which  he  entered,  so   that  the 
door  could  not  be  opened  from  without.    He 
even   provided    for   the   contingency   o(  not 
gaining  entrance  to  the  box  by  boring  a  hole 
in  its  door,  through  which  he  might  either  ob- 
serve the  occupants  or  take  aim  and  shoot. 
He  hired  at  a  livery  stable  a  small,  fleet  h 
which  he  showed  with  pride  during  the 
to  barkeepers  and  loafers  among  his  frier.  Is 
The  moon  rose  that  night  at  ten  o'clock.
454 
ABRAHAM  LINCOLN. 
DOOR     to    PASSAGE 
DIAGRAM     OF    THE     BOX    IN     FORD  S    THEATER. 
(COPIED     FROM     THE    DRAWING     IN    THE    WAR     DEPARTMENT.) 
A  few  minutes  before  that  hour  he  called  one 
of  the  underlings  of  the  theater  to  the  back 
door  and  left  him  there  holding  his  horse. 
He  then  went  to  a  saloon  near  by,  took  a 
drink  of  brandy,  and,  entering  the  theater, 
passed  rapidly  through  the  crowd  in  rear  of 
the  dress  circle  and  made  his  way  to  the 
passage  leading  to  the  President's  box.  He 
showed  a  card  to  a  servant  in  attendance  and 
was  allowed  to  pass  in.  He  entered  noiselessly, 
and,  turning,  fastened  the  door  with  the  bar  he 
had  previously  made  ready,  without  disturbing 
any  of  the  occupants  of  the  box,  between  whom 
and  himself  there  yet  remained  the  slight  par- 
tition and  the  door  through  which  he  had  bored 
the  hole.  Their  eyes  were  fixed  upon  the 
stage  ;  the  play  was  "  Our  American  Cousin," 
the  original  version  by  Tom  Taylor,  before 
Sothern  had  made  a  new  work  of  it  by  his 
elaboration  of  the  part  of  Dundreary.  No 
one,  not  even  the  comedian  on  the  stage,  could 
ever  remember  the  last  words  of  the  piece  that 
were  uttered  that  night  —  the  last  Abraham 
Lincoln  heard  upon  earth.  The  whole  per- 
formance remains  in  the  memory  of  those  who 
heard  it  a  vague  phantasmagoria,  the  actors 
the  thinnest  of  specters.  The  awful  tragedy 
in  the  box  makes  everything  else  seem  pale 
and  unreal.  Here  were  five  human  beings  in 
a  narrow  space  —  the  greatest  man  of  his  time, 
in  the  glory  of  the  most  stupendous  success 
in  our  history,  the  idolized  chief  of  a  nation 
already  mighty,  with  illimitable  vistas  of  gran- 
deur to  come ;  his  beloved  wife,  proud  and 
1  Mr.  Leopold  de  Gaillard,  writing  on  the  29th  of  acter.  "I  remember,"  he  adds,  "but one  assassination 
April,  1865,  refers  to  these  words  of  Booth,  which  he  adorned  with  a  Latin  quotation,  but  it  took  place  in 
calls  a  "stupid  phrase  "and  not  American  in  char-     Florence,  and  in  the  sixteenth    century.    Lorenzino 
happy ;  a  pair  of  betrothed  lovers,  with  all 
the  promise  of  felicity  that  youth,  social  posi- 
tion, and  wealth  could  give  them ;  and  this 
young  actor,  handsome  as  Endymion  upon 
Latinos,  the  pet  of  his  little  world.  The  glitter 
of  fame,  happiness,  and  ease  was  upon  the  en- 
tire group,  but  in  an  instant  everything  was 
to  be  changed  with  the  blinding  swiftness  of 
enchantment.  Quick  death  was  to  come  on 
the  central  figure  of  that  company — the  cen- 
tral figure,  we  believe,  of  the  great  and  good 
men  of  the  century.  Over  all  the  rest  the 
blackest  fates  hovered  menacingly  —  fates 
from  which  a  mother  might  pray  that  kindly 
death  would  save  her  children  in  their  infancy. 
One  was  to  wander  with  the  stain  of  murder 
on  his  soul,  with  the  curses  of  a  world  upon 
his  name,  with  a  price  set  upon  his  head,  in 
frightful  physical  pain,  till  he  died  a  dog's 
death  in  a  burning  barn;  the  stricken  wife 
was  to  pass  the  rest  of  her  days  in  melancholy 
and  madness ;  of  those  two  young  lovers,  one 
was  to  slay  the  other,  and  then  end  his  life  a 
raving  maniac. 
The  murderer  seemed  to  himself  to  be  tak- 
ing part  in  a  play.  The  fumes  of  brandy  and 
partisan  hate  had  for  weeks  kept  his  brain 
in  a  morbid  state.  He  felt  as  if  he  were  play- 
ing Brutus  off  the  boards ;  he  posed,  expect- 
ing applause.  Holding  a  pistol  in  one  hand 
and  a  knife  in  the  other,  he  opened  the  box 
door,  put  the  pistol  to  the  President's  head, 
and  fired;  dropping  the  weapon,  he  took  the 
knife  in  his  right  hand,  and  when  Major 
Rathbone  sprang  to  seize  him  he  struck  sav- 
agely at  him.  Major  Rathbone  received  the 
blow  on  his  left  arm,  suffering  a  wide  and 
deep  wound.  Booth,  rushing  forward,  then 
placed  his  left  hand  on  the  railing  of  the  box 
and  vaulted  lightly  over  to  the  stage.  It  was 
a  high  leap,  but  nothing  to  such  a  trained 
athlete.  He  was  in  the  habit  of  introducing 
what  actors  call  sensational  leaps  in  his  plays. 
In  "  Macbeth,"  where  he  met  the  weird  sisters, 
he  leaped  from  a  rock  twelve  feet  high.  He 
would  have  got  safely  away  but  for  his  spur 
catching  in  the  folds  of  the  Union  flag  with 
which  the  front  of  the  box  was  draped.  He 
fell  on  the  stage,  the  torn  flag  trailing  on  his 
spur,  but  instantly  rose  as  if  he  had  received 
no  hurt,  though  in  fact  the  fall  had  broken 
his  leg,  turned  to  the  audience,  brandishing  his 
dripping  knife  and  shouting  the  State  motto 
of  Virginia,  "  Sic  Semper  Tyrannis," 1  and  fled 
rapidly  across  the  stage  and  out  of  sight. 
Major  Rathbone  had  shouted,  "Stop  him!" 
The  cry  went  out,  "He  has  shot  the  President." 
From  the  audience,  at  first  stupid  with  surprise
Tllli    FOURTEENTH    01    APRIL. 
435 
and  afterwards  wild  with  excitement  and 
horror,  two  or  three  men  jumped  upon  the 
stage  in  pursuit  of  the  flying  assassin;  but  be 
ran  through  the  familiar  passages,  leaped  upon 
his  horse,  which  was  in  waiting  in  the  alley 
behind,  rewarded  with  a  kick  and  a  curse  the 
call-boy  who  had  held  him,  and  rode  rapidly 
away  in  the  light  of  the  just  risen  moon. 
The  President  scarcely  moved ;  his  head 
drooped  forward  slightly,  his  eyes  closed.  Colo- 
nel Rathbone,  at  first  not  regarding  his  own 
grievous  hurt,  rushed  to  the  door  of  the  box 
to  summon  aid.  He  found  it  barred,  and  on 
the  outside  some  one  was  beating  and  clamor- 
ing for  entrance.  He  opened  the  door;  a 
young  officer  named  Crawford  entered;  one 
or  two  army  surgeons  soon  followed,  who  has- 
tily examined  the  wound.  It  was  at  once  seen 
to  be  mortal.  It  was  afterwards  ascertained 
that  a  large  derringer  bullet  had  entered  the 
back  of  the  head  on  the  left  side,  and,  passing 
through  the  brain,  had  lodged  just  behind  the 
left  eye.  By  direction  of  Rathbone  and  Craw- 
ford, the  President  was  carried  to  a  house  across 
the  street  and  laid  upon  a  bed  in  a  small  room 
at  the  rear  of  the  hall,  on  the  ground  floor. 
Mrs.  Lincoln  followed,  half  distracted,  ten- 
derly cared  for  by  Miss  Harris.  Rathbone, 
exhausted  by  loss  of  blood,  fainted,  and  was 
carried  home.  Messengers  were  sent  for  the 
members  of  the  Cabinet,  for  the  Surgeon-Gen- 
eral, for  Dr.  Stone,  the  President's  family  phy- 
sician ;  a  crowd  of  people  rushed  instinctively 
to  the  White  House  and,  bursting  through  the 
doors,  shouted  the  dreadful  news  to  Robert 
Lincoln  and  Major  Hay,  who  sat  gossiping  in 
an  upper  room.  They  ran  downstairs.  Find- 
ing a  carriage  at  the  door,  they  entered  it  to 
go  to  Tenth  street.  As  they  were  driving  away, 
a  friend  came  up  and  told  them  that  Mr.  Sew- 
ard and  most  of  the  Cabinet  had  been  mur- 
dered. The  news  was  all  so  improbable  that 
they  could  not  help  hoping  it  was  all  untrue. 
But  when  they  got  to  Tenth  street  and  found 
every  thoroughfare  blocked  by  the  swiftly  gath- 
ering thousands,  agitated  by  tumultuous  excite- 
ment, they  were  prepared  for  the  worst.  In  a 
few  minutes  all  who  had  been  sent  for,  and 
many  others,  were  gathered  in  the  little  cham- 
ber where  the  Chief  of  the  State  lay  in  his 
agony.  His  son  was  met  at  the  door  by  Dr. 
Stone,  who  with  grave  tenderness  informed 
him  that  there  was  no  hope.  After  a  natural 
outburst  of  grief  young  Lincoln  devoted  him- 
self the  rest  of  the  night  to  soothing  and  com- 
forting his  mother. 
The  President  had  been  shot  a  few  minutes 
past  ten.  The  wound  would  have  brought  in- 
treacherously  killed  his  cousin,  Alexander  de  Medicie, 
who  was  in  reality  a  tyrant,  and  left  in  writing  near 
the  body  the  line  of  Virgil  on  Brutus :  VincetAmorpatriu 
FORD'S  THEATRE 
HKASOrJ  II   
.    W».»X   XXXI                      U 
■H  .  | 
(aw.  w  wnui/  ta 
* «_»?  fjmtt 
Friday  Evening.  April  14th. \Hhb 
LAST  NIGHT 
111  B 
TUi  DaiBSOMMM  maxaciuu.  aithouj*  a»£>  ax-auaa, 
MR.  JOHN  DYOTT 
  MR.  HARRY  HAWK 
TOM  TAYLOR'S  CELEBRATED  MOEBT  .:     CCSIIIT. 
A>  orijlaally  produead  la  At.r.c  '„,  M.«.  Kaaaa  aaa  ■  ■  !■  —I  *f  ks  i|i»t  W 
OUR  AMERICAN 
COUSIN 
ILOBKNCX  TBENCHABD          «:!S  UCU  UBI 
<  B«r  wIcuaI  (WraMW  > 
Abel  K urcott.  Clerk  to  Auorney    Joka  Dy«t> 
Am  Trenchard    ■• 
Sir  Edirard  Treochani   
Lord  Dundreary  
 *■  A-  BBIKW 
Mr.  Coyle,  Alloroey   •  •     •*    JlAlTM*! 
Llcuienaol  Vernon,  R.  X      W.  J.  rE»GCSO« 
Ctplain  De  Boou    B    ■TtXlS 
Binoey   
Buddicomb.  aealet   
Jonn  Whicker,  i  gardener    1    -  DllOBAX 
Basper,  »  groom      
Baililfc   G.  A  FARKHURST  aas  L.  JOB 
Mary  Trenchard   
lira.  Moumcheaiingwo   
Amtusla    >■•» 
Ciwlana   
Sharp*    v.JRETAM 
mj»  m-  oxilaT 
sirui'U   rvi>]»,»tmiv 
BENEFIT  of  Miss  JENNIE  GOURLAY 
W»«  »M  W  pr»MU4  ■oatCartTS  Ormi  liiiiflu  >M» 
EDWIN    ADAMS 
FOR   TTTB1.VS   NIGHTS 
FACSIMILE    OF    A    FLAY-BII  L     FC 
BOX     AFTER     THE     ASSASSINATION.      T 
BY    E.    A.    BMBRSON,     OF     LYNCHBUJtG,     *a 
T.  A. Case,  of  Brooklyn,  also  has 
Brown  by  John  T.  Fold,  the  propnetoi  -rajHousein 
Washington,  who  noted  on  it  thai  \inder 
Lincoln's  chair. — Editor. 
trnmemsa  Cmfitfa,    (1  was  tbc  thnrsl  -:  fame 
which  was  the  real  incentive  to  these  savagi 
[Gazette  de  France.  April  30,  1865.]
436 
ABRAHAM  LINCOLN. 
stant  death  to  most  men,  but  his  vital  tenac- 
ity was  extraordinary.  He  was,  of  course, 
unconscious  from  the  first  moment;  but  he 
breathed  with  slow  and  regular  respiration 
throughout  the  night.  As  the  dawn  came,  and 
the  lamplight  grew  pale  in  the  fresher  beams, 
his  pulse  began  to  tail ;  but  his  face  even  then 
was  scarcely  more  haggard  than  those  of  the 
sorrowing  group  of  statesmen  and  generals 
around  him.  His  automatic  moaning,  which 
had  continued  through  the  night,  ceased;  a 
look  of  unspeakable  peace  came  upon  his  worn 
features.  At  twenty-two  minutes  after  seven 
he  died.1  Stanton  broke  the  silence  by  saying, 
11  Now  he  belongs  to  the  ages."  Dr.  Gurley 
kneeled  by  the  bedside  and  prayed  fervently. 
The  widow  came  in  from  the  adjoining  room 
supported  by  her  son  and  cast  herself  with 
loud  outcry  on  the  dead  body. 
THE    FATE    OF    THE    ASSASSINS. 
Booth  had  done  his  work  efficiently.  His 
principal  subordinate,  the  young  Floridian 
called  Payne,  had  acted  with  equal  audacity 
and  cruelty,  but  not  with  equally  fatal  results. 
He  had  made  a  shambles  of  the  residence  of 
the  Secretary  of  State,  but  among  all  his  man- 
gled victims  there  was  not  one  killed.  At  eight 
o'clock  that  night  he  received  his  final  orders 
from  Booth,2  who  placed  in  his  hands  a  knife 
and  revolver,  and  a  little  package  like  a  pre- 
scription, and  taught  him  his  lesson.  Payne3 
was  a  young  man,  hardly  of  age,  of  herculean 
strength,  of  very  limited  mental  capacity,  blindly 
devoted  to  Booth,  who  had  selected  him  as 
the  fitting  instrument  of  his  mad  hatred.  He 
obeyed  the  orders  of  his  fascinating  senior  as 
exactly  and  remorselessly  as  a  steel  machine. 
At  precisely  the  moment  when  Booth  entered 
the  theater,  Payne  came  on  horseback  to  the 
door  of  Mr.  Seward's  residence  on  Lafayette 
Square.4  Dismounting,  he  pretended  to  be  a 
messenger  from  the  attending  physician,  with 
a  package  of  medicine,  and  demanded  im- 
mediate access  to  the  sick-room  of  the  Secre- 
tary. Mr.  Seward  had  been  thrown  from  his 
carriage  a  few  days  before  and  his  right  arm 
and  jaw  were  fractured.  The  servant  at  the 
door  tried  to  prevent  Payne  from  going  up  the 
stairs,  but  he  persisted,  and  the  noise  the  two 
men  marie  in  mounting  brought  Frederick 
Seward  out  into  the  hall.  The  Secretary  had 
been  very  restless  and  had  with  difficulty  at 
1  The  persons  about  the  deathbed  of  the  President, 
besides  his  wife  and  son,  were  Vice-President  Johnson, 
all  the  Cabinet  with  the  exception  of  Mr.  Seward,  viz : 
Stanton,  Welles,  McCulloch,  Usher,  Dennison,  and 
Speed;  Generals  Halleck,  Meigs,  Farnsworth,  Augur, 
and  Todd  ;  Senator  Sumner ;  Rev.  Dr.  Gurley;  Schuy- 
ler Colfax ;  Governor  Farwell ;  Judges  Cartter  and 
Otto;    Surgeon-General  Barnes;   Drs.   Stone,  Crane, 
last  been  composed  to  sleep.  Fearing  that  this 
restorative  slumber  might  be  broken,  Frederick 
Seward  came  out  to  check  the  intruders.  He 
met  Payne  at  the  head  of  the  stairs,  and  after 
hearing  his  story  bade  him  go  back,  offering 
himself  to  take  charge  of  the  medicine.  Payne 
seemed  for  an  instant  to  give  up  his  purpose 
in  the  face  of  this  unexpected  obstacle,  but 
suddenly  turned  and  rushed  furiously  upon 
Frederick  Seward,  putting  a  pistol  to  his  head. 
It  missed  fire,  and  he  then  began  beating  him 
on  the  head  with  it,  tearing  his  scalp  and 
fracturing  his  skull.  Still  struggling,  the  two 
came  to  the  Secretary's  room  and  fell  together 
through  the  door.  Frederick  Seward  soon  be- 
came unconscious  and  remained  so  for  several 
weeks,  being  perhaps  the  last  man  in  the  civil- 
ized world  who  learned  the  strange  story  of  the 
night.  The  Secretary  lay  on  the  farther  side 
of  the  bed  from  the  door ;  in  the  room  was 
his  daughter  and  a  soldier-nurse  named  Rob- 
inson. They  both  sprang  up  at  the  noise  of 
the  disturbance  ;  Payne  struck  them  right  and 
left  out  of  his  way,  wounding  Robinson  with 
his  knife ;  then  rushed  to  the  bed  and  began 
striking  at  the  throat  of  the  crippled  statesman, 
inflicting  three  terrible  wounds  in  cheek  and 
neck;  the  Secretary  rolled  off  between  the 
bed  and  the  wall.  Robinson  had  by  this  time 
recovered  himself  and  seized  the  assassin  from 
behind,  trying  to  pull  him  away  from  the  bed. 
He  fought  with  the  quickness  of  a  cat,  stab- 
bing Robinson  twice  severely  over  his  shoulder, 
in  spite  of  which  the  nurse  still  held  on  to  him 
bravely.  Colonel  Augustus  Seward,  roused  by 
his  sister's  screams,  came  in  his  nightdress  into 
the  room,  and  seeing  the  two  forms  in  this 
deadly  grapple  thought  at  first  his  father  was 
delirious  and  was  struggling  with  the  nurse ; 
but  noting  in  a  moment  the  size  and  strength 
of  the  man,  he  changed  his  mind  and  thought 
that  the  nurse  had  gone  mad  and  was  mur- 
dering the  Secretary.  Nothing  but  madness 
was  at  first  thought  of  anywhere  to  account 
for  the  night's  work.  He  seized  Payne,  and 
after  a  struggle  forced  him  out  of  the  door — 
the  assassin  stabbing  him  repeatedly  about  the 
head  and  face.  Payne  broke  away  at  last  and 
ran  rapidly  downstairs,  seriously  wounding  an 
attendant  named  Hansell  on  the  way.  He 
reached  the  door  unhurt,  leaped  upon  his 
horse,  and  rode  leisurely  away  out  Vermont 
Avenue  to  the  eastern  suburb.  When  surgi- 
cal aid  arrived,  the  quiet  house,  ordinarily  so 
and  Leale;  Major  John  Hay,  A.  A.  G. ;  and  Maunsell 
B.  Field.  Mr.  Nicolay  was  in  Charleston  at  the  flag- 
raising  over  Sumter. 
2  Doster's  speech,  Pitman,  p.  314. 
3  His  true  name  was  Lewis  Thornton  Powell. 
4  Now  the  residence  of  James  G.  Blaine,  Secretary 
of  State.
77/ A'    EATE    OE   THE   ASSASSINS, 
437 
decorous  and  well  ordered,  the  scene  erf  an 
affectionate  home  life  and  an  unobtrusive  hos- 
pitality, looked  like  a  field  hospital  ;  five  of 
its  inmates  were  bleeding  from  ghastly  wounds, 
and  two  of  them — among  the  highest  officials 
of  the  nation — it  was  thought  might  never  see 
the  light  of  another  day;  though  all  providen- 
tially recovered. 
The  assassin  left  behind  him  in  his  flight  his 
bloodstained  knife,  his  revolver, —  or  rather 
the  fragments  of  it,  for  he  had  beaten  it  to 
pieces  over  the  head  of  Frederick  Seward, — 
and  his  hat.  This  last  apparently  trivial  loss 
cost  him  and  one  of  his  fellow-conspirators  their 
lives ;  for  as  soon  as  he  had  left  the  immediate 
scene  of  his  crime,  his  perceptions  being  quick- 
ened by  a  murderer's  avenging  fears,  it  oc- 
curred to  him  that  the  lack  of  a  hat  would 
expose  him  to  suspicion  wherever  he  was  seen ; 
so  instead  of  making  good  his  escape,  he  aban- 
doned his  horse  and  hid  himself  for  two  days 
in  the  woods  east  of  Washington.  Driven  by 
hunger  he  at  last  resolved  to  return  to  the  city, 
to  the  house  on  H  street  which  had  been  the 
headquarters  of  the  conspiracy.  He  made 
himself  a  cap  from  the  sleeve  of  his  woolen 
shirt,  threw  over  his  shoulder  a  pickax  he  had 
found  in  a  trench,  and  coming  into  town  un- 
der cover  of  the  darkness  knocked  about 
midnight  at  Mrs.  Surratt's  door.  As  his  fate 
would  have  it,  the  house  was  full  of  officers 
who  had  that  moment  arrested  all  the  inmates 
and  were  about  to  take  them  to  the  office  of 
the  provost-marshal.  Payne  thus  fell  into  the 
hands  of  justice,  and  the  utterance  of  half  a 
dozen  words  by  him  and  the  unhappy  woman 
whose  shelter  he  had  sought  was  the  death 
warrant  of  both.  Being  asked  by  Major  Smith 
to  give  an  account  of  himself,  he  said  he  had 
been  hired  by  Mrs.  Surratt  to  dig  a  drain  for 
her.  She  was  called  out  and  asked  if  she  knew 
him.  Not  being  aware  of  what  he  had  said, 
she  raised  her  right  hand,  with  uncalled-for 
solemnity,  and  said,  "  Before  God,  I  do  not 
know  him,  never  saw  him,  and  never  hired 
him."  These  words,  the  evidence  of  a  guilty 
secret  shared  between  them,  started  a  train  of 
evidence  which  led  them  both  to  the  scaffold. 
Booth  was  recognized  by  dozens  of  people 
as  he  stood  before  the  footlights  and  brandished 
his  dripping  dagger  in  a  Brutus  attitude.  His 
swift  horse  quickly  carried  him  beyond  the 
reach  of  any  haphazard  pursuit.  He  gained 
the  navy-yard  bridge  in  a  few  minutes,  was 
hailed  by  a  sentry,  but  persuaded  the  sergeant 
of  the  guard  that  he  was  returning  to  his  home 
in  Charles  County  and  that  he  had  waited  in 
Wa  ihington  nil   the  moon     bonld  rise.    He 
was  allowed  to  pa    .  and  shortly  si 
Herold  came  \<>  the  I n 
with  similar  expl  i 
the  owner  of  the  hone  irhi  h   Ha  Id 
'  ame  up  in  pursuit  of  hi 
hone  t  man  of  the  thn  ,:  i,v 
the  guard  — the  sergeant  felt  he  must 
line  somewhere,    i  tnandmsn 
acolyte  <  ame  at  midnight   to  M 
tavem.    Booth,  whose  brol  • 
time  giving  him  exenu  iating  tori 
outside,  on  his  horse,  and   Herold  irent  in, 
shouting  to  the  inn-keeper  to  give  hi:.-, 
things."      Lloyd,   knowing    uh.v  ant, 
without  a  word  brought  the  whisky,  i 
and  field-glass  which   the  Surratts  had  d< 
ited  there.    Booth  refused  his  gun,  being  unable 
in  his  crippled  condition   to  <  ;irrv  it.     Hciold 
told  Lloyd  they  had  killed  the  President,  and 
they  rode  away,  leaving  Lloyd,  \\  ho  m  as  a  sod- 
den drunkard  and  contraband^,  unnerved  bv 
the  news  and  by  his  muddy  perception  <  I 
own  complicity  in  the  crime.  He  held  his  tongue 
for  a  day  or  two  ;  but  at  last,  overcome  by 
told  all  that  he  knew  to  the  authorities.    Booth 
and  Herold  pushed  on  through  the  moonlight 
to  the.  house  of  an  acquaintance  of  Boo- 
rebel  sympathizer,  a  surgeon  named  Samuel 
Mudd.    The  pain  of  his  broken  bone  had  be- 
come intolerable  and  day  was  approachi] 
aid  and  shelter  had  become  pressingly  r. 
sary.    Mudd  received  them  kindly,  set  Booth's 
leg,  and  gave  him  a  room  where  he  rested  until 
the  middle  of  the  afternoon;  Mudd  had  a  crutch 
made  for  him,  and  in  the  evening  sent  them  on 
their  desolate  way  to  the  South. 
If  Booth  had   been  in  health  there  is  no 
reason  why  he  should  not  have  remained  at 
large  a  good  while;  he  might  even  have  made 
his  escape  to  some  foreign  country,  thoi 
sooner  or  later,  a   crime  so  prodigious   will 
generally  find  its  perpetrator  out.    But 
easy  to  hide  among  a  sympathizing  pc 
Many  a  Union  soldier,  escaping  from  pii 
has  walked  hundreds  of  miles  through  tk. 
emy's  country  relying  implicitly  upon  the  friend- 
ship of  the  negroes.     Booth,  from  the  hour 
he  crossed  the  navy-yard  bridge,  though  he 
met  with  a  considerable  number  of  men. 
given  shelter  and  assistance  by  every  one  wfc    5 
sympathies  were  with  the  South.    After  |  u 
with  Dr.  Mudd,  he  and  Herold  went  to  the 
residence  of  Samuel  Cox,1  near  Tort  1. 
and  were  bv  him  given   into  :'. 
Thomas  [ones,  a  contraband  tra 
Maryland  and  Richmond,  a  man  so  de\ 
1  What  Booth  and  Herold  were  about  during  the  tensive  and  eareful   studies   for  his   historical 
week  between  the  15th  and  the  22d  of  April  was  not  "  Katy  of  Catoctin,"  reconstructed  the  en:i 
brought   out   upon   the  trial  of  the  conspirators,  but  of  the  assassin,  and  published  an  admiral 
Mr.  George  Alfred  Townsend,  while  making  the  ex-  count  of  it  in  The  CBN  itry  Magazine  tor  April,  18S4.
43« 
ABRAHAM  LINCOLN. 
to  the  interests  of  the  Confederacy  that  trea- 
son and  murder  seemed  every-day  incidents 
to  be  accepted  as  natural  and  necessary.  He 
kept  Booth  and  Herold  in  hiding,  at  the  peril 
of  his  own  life,  for  more  than  a  week,  feeding" 
and  caring  for  them  in  the  woods  near  his 
house,  watching  for  an  opportunity  to  ferry 
them  across  the  Potomac.  He  did  this  while 
every  woodpath  was  haunted  by  Government 
detectives,  while  his  own  neighborhood  was 
under  strong  suspicion,  knowing  that  death 
would  promptly  follow  his  own  detection,  and 
that  a  reward  was  offered  for  the  capture  of 
his  helpless  charge  which  w7ould  make  a  rich 
man  of  any  one  who  gave  him  up.  So  close 
was  the  search  that  Herold  killed  the  horses 
on  which  they  had  ridden  out  of  Washington 
for  fear  a  neigh  might  betray  them. 
With  such  devoted  aid  Booth  might  have 
wandered  a  long  way ;  but  there  is  no  final 
escape  but  suicide  for  an  assassin  with  a  broken 
leg.  At  each  painful  move  the  chances  of  dis- 
covery increased.  Jones  was  indeed  able,  after 
repeated  failures,  to  ferry  his  fated  guests  across 
the  Potomac.  Arriving  on  the  Virginia  side, 
they  lived  the  lives  of  hunted  animals  for  two 
or  three  days  longer,  finding  to  their  horror 
that  they  were  received  by  the  strongest  Con- 
federates with  more  of  annoyance  than  en- 
thusiasm —  though  none  indeed  offered  to  be- 
tray them.  At  one  house,  while  food  was  given 
him,  hospitality  was  not  offered.1  Booth  wrote 
the  proprietor  a  note,  pathetic  in  its  attempted 
dignity,  inclosing  five  dollars  —  "  though  hard 
to  spare"  —  for  his  entertainment.  He  had  by 
this  time  seen  the  comments  of  the  news- 
papers on  his  work,  and  bitterer  than  death 
or  wounds  was  the  blow  to  his  vanity.2  He 
confided  his  feelings  of  wrong  to  his  diary  : 
I  struck  boldly,  and  not  as  the  papers  say ;  I 
walked  with  a  firm  step  through  thousands  of  his 
friends  ;  was  stopped,  but  pushed  on.  A  colonel 
was  at  his  side.  I  shouted  Sic  Semper  before  I  fired. 
In  jumping  broke  my  leg.  I  passed  all  his  pickets. 
Rod;  sixty  miles  that  night,  with  the  bone  of  my 
leg  tearing  the  flesh  at  every  jump. 
On  Friday  the  21st  he  writes: 
After  being  hunted  like  a  dog  through  swamps, 
woods,  and  last  night  chased  by  gun-boats  till  I  was 
forced  to  return,  wet,  cold,  and  starving,  with  every 
man's  hand  against  me,  I  am  here  in  despair.  And 
why?  For  doing  what  Brutus  was  honored  for  — 
what  made  Tell  a  hero. 
He  goes  on  comparing  himself  favorably 
with  these  stage  heroes,  and  adds : 
I  struck  for  my  country  and  that  alone  —  a  coun- 
try that  groaned  beneath  his  tyranny  and  prayed 
for  this  end ;  and  yet  now  behold  the  cold  hand  they 
extend  to  me. 
He  was  especially  grieved  that  the  gran- 
diloquent letter  he  had  intrusted  to  his  fellow- 
actor  Matthews  —  and  which  he  in  his  terror 
had  destroyed  —  had  not  been  published.  He 
thought  the  Government  had  wickedly  sup- 
pressed it  j  he  was  tortured  with  doubts  whether 
God  would  forgive  him,  whether  it  would  not 
be  better  to  go  back  to  Washington  and  "clear 
his  name."  "  I  am  abandoned,  with  the  curse 
of  Cain  upon  me,  when,  if  the  world  knew  my 
heart,  that  one  blow  would  have  made  me 
great."  With  blessings  on  his  mother,  upon 
his  wretched  companion  of  crime  and  flight, 
upon  the  world  which  he  thought  was  not 
worthy  of  him,  he  closed  these  strange  out- 
pourings, saying,  "I  do  not  wish  to  shed  a 
drop  of  blood,  but  I  must  fight  the  course." 
The  course  was  soon  ended.  At  Port  Con- 
way, on  the  Rappahannock,  Booth  and  Herold 
met  three  young  men  in  Confederate  uniforms. 
They  were  disbanded  soldiers;  but  Herold, 
imagining  that  they  were  recruiting  for  the 
Southern  army,  told  them  his  story  with  perfect 
frankness  and  even  pride,  saying,  "  We  are  the 
assassinators  of  the  President,"  and  asked  their 
company  into  the  Confederate  lines.  He  was 
disappointed  at  learning  they  were  not  going 
South,  but  his  confidence  was  not  misplaced. 
The  soldiers  took  the  fugitives  to  Port  Royal, 
and  tried  to  get  shelter  for  them,  representing 
Booth  as  a  wounded  Confederate  soldier. 
After  one  or  two  failures  they  found  refuge  on 
the  farm  of  a  man  named  Garrett  on  the  road 
to  Bowling  Green. 
On  the  night  of  the  25th  of  April  a  party 
under  Lieutenant  E.  P.  Doherty  arrested, 
in  his  bed  at  Bowling  Green,  William  Jett, 
one  of  the  Confederate  soldiers  mentioned 
above,  and  forced  him  to  guide  them  to  Gar- 
rett's farm.  Booth  and  Herold  were  sleeping 
in  the  barn.  When  called  upon  to  surrender, 
Booth  refused,  and  threatened  to  shoot  young 
Garrett,  who  had  gone  in  to  get  his  arms.  A 
parley  took  place,  lasting  some  minutes.  Booth 
offered  to  fight  the  party  at  a  hundred  yards, 
and  when  this  was  refused  cried  out  in  a  the- 
atrical tone,  "  Well,  my  brave  boys,  prepare  a 
stretcher  for  me."  Doherty  then  told  him  he 
would  fire  the  barn;  upon  this  Herold  came 
out  and  surrendered.  The  barn  was  fired,  and 
while  it  was  burning,  Booth,  who  was  clearly 
visible  by  the  flames  through  the  cracks  in  the 
building,  was  shot  by  Boston  Corbett,  a  ser- 
geant of  cavalry,  a  soldier  of  a  gloomy  and 
fanatical  disposition,  which  afterwards  devel- 
oped into  insanity.3  Booth  was  hit  in  the  back 
of  the  neck,  not  far  from  the  place  where  he 
had  shot  the  President.  He  lingered  about 
three  hours  in  great  pain,  conscious  but  nearly 
inarticulate,  and  died  at  seven  in  the  morning. 
1  Trial  of  J.  H.  Surratt,  p.  402.         2  Ibid.,  p.  310. 
3  He  is  still   living,  1889,  in  an  insane  asylum  in 
Kansas.
THE    M()Uh'NIN(;    PAGEANT. 
The  surviving  conspirators,  with  the  excep- 
tion of  John  H.  Surratt,  were  tried  by  a  mili 
tary  commission1  sitting  in  Washington  in  the 
months  of  May  and  June.  The  charges  against 
them  specified  that  they  were  "incited  and 
encouraged"  to  treason  and  murder  by  Jeffer 
son  Davis  and  the  Confederate  emissaries  in 
Canada.  This  was  not  proved  on  the  trial: 
the  evidence  bearing  on  the  case  showed  fre- 
quent communication  between  Canada  and 
Richmond  and  the  Booth  coterie  in  Washing- 
ton, and  some  transactions   in  drafts  at  the 
return  to  th  r)|  amj 
sketch,  in  briei  .-aid  wrholl . 
the  honor,  uliirli  the 
'l  he  appalling  n 
country  ;  milhoi 
breakfast  tables  that  the  . 
shot  and  v. 
death,  wh.i, 
ing  his  mortal  remai 
sion,  the  dreadful  fa  t  v.  x\\  the 
great    centers    of    population.     I 
first  time  the  t--l.-gi.ipii  ]. 
Montreal  Bank,  where  Jacob  Thompson  and  to  spread  over  the  world  t 
Booth  both  kept  their  accounts.    It  was  shown  and   mournful   signiti- 
by  the  sworn  testimony  of  a  reputable  witness  the  first  time  the  entire 
that  Jefferson  Davis  at  Greensboro',  on  hearing  States  had  been  <  ailed  to  deplore  th 
of  the  assassination,  expressed  his  gratification  away  of  an  idolized    1 
at  the  news ;  but  this,  so  far  from  proving  any  body  was  cold   in  death.    The 
direct  complicity  in  the  crime,  would  rather  peculiar  severity  upon  hearts  whi 
prove  the  opposite,  as  a  conscious  murderer  ing  with  the  joy  of  a  great    .  i 
usually  conceals  his  malice.2    Against  all  the  last  four  days,  in  every  city  and  hamlet  of  the 
rest  the  facts  we  have  briefly  stated  were 
abundantly  proved,  though  in  the  case  of  Mrs. 
Surratt  the  repugnance  which  all  men  feel  at 
the  execution  of  a  woman  induced  the  com- 
mission to  unite  in  a  recommendation  to  mercy, 
which  President  Johnson,  then  in  the  first  flush 
of  his  zeal  against  traitors,  disregarded.3  Ha- 
beas corpus  proceedings  were  then  resorted  to, 
land,  the  people  were  breaking  forth  into  un- 
usual and  fantastic  ex]  i  and 
content;  bonfires  flamed  through  th 
the  days  were  uproarious  with  the  firing  of 
guns;  the  streets  were  hung  with    flags  and 
wreaths,  and  whatever  decorations  could 
on  the  instant  improvised  by  a  people  n<  I 
pecially    gifted    with    the    sceni< 
and  failed  in  virtue  of  the  President's  orders    committees w-ereevervwhere forming:'  >an 
for  elaborate  and  official  functi«  »nsol  j 
this  mirth  and  expansion  the  awful  iiv 
from  Washington  fell  with  the  a  and 
stunning  effect  of  an  unspeakal  tie  calamity.    In 
the  sudden  rigor  of  this  une\  i  une 
the  country  lost  sight  of  the  vast  national 
cess  of  the  past  week  :  and  it   I  te  to 
pass  that  there  was  never  any 
pression  of  the  general  exultation  or  rejoicing 
in  the  North  over  the  downfall  of  the  rebellion. 
It  was  unquestionably  best  that  it  >hould  be 
so;  and  Lincoln  himself  would  not  have  had 
it  otherwise.    He  hated  the  arr   _   •  :  tri- 
umph ;  and  even  in  his  cruel  dead)  lie  would 
have  been  glad  to  know  that  1  ,o  to 
eternity  would  prevent  too  loud  :ion 
over  the  vanquished.    As   it   was,  the  South 
could  take  no  umbrage  at  a  gr:  line 
and  so  legitimate:  the  people  of  th. 
even  shared,  to  a  certain  degree,  in  the 
entations  over  the  bier  of  one  whom  in  their 
to  the  military  in  charge  of  the  prisoners.  The 
sentences  were  accordingly  executed :  Mrs. 
Surratt,  Payne,  Herold,  and  Atzerodt  were 
hanged  on  the  7th  of  July ;  Mudd,  Arnold, 
and  McLaughlin  were  imprisoned  for  life  at 
the  Tortugas,  though  the  term  was  afterwards 
shortened,  and  Spangler,  the  scene  shifter  at 
the  theater,  was  sentenced  to  six  years  of  jail. 
John  Surratt  escaped  to  Canada,  lay  in  hiding 
some  months  in  a  monastery,  and  in  the  au- 
tumn sailed  for  England  under  an  assumed 
name.  He  wandered  over  Europe,  enlisted  in 
the  Papal  Zouaves,  deserted  and  fled  to  Egypt, 
where  he  was  detected  and  brought  back  to 
Washington  in  1867.  His  trial  lasted  two 
months  and  ended  in  a  disagreement  of  the 
jury. 
THE     MOURNING    PAGEANT. 
Recounting   the  fate  of  these  wretched 
malefactors  has  led  us  far  afield.  We  will  now 
1  This  commission  was  composed  of  officers  not 
only  of  high  rank  and  distinction,  but  of  unusual  weight 
of  character.  They  were  Generals  David  Hunter, 
Lew  Wallace,  August  V.  Kautz,  A.  P.  Howe,  R.  S 
Foster,  J.  A.  Ekin,  T.  N.  Harris,  Colonels  C.  H. 
Tompkins  and  D.  R.  Clendenin.  The  Judge  Advo- 
cate and  Recorder  was  Joseph  Holt,  assisted  by  the 
Hon.  John  A.  Bingham  and  Colonel  H.  L.  Burnett. 
2  Mr.  Davis,  in  his  "  Rise  and  Fall  of  the  Confederate 
Government,"  contradicts  this  evidence  of  Mr.  Lewis 
F.  Bates.  He  admits,  however,  that  the  dispatch,  being 
read  in  his  presence  to  the  troops  with  him,  elicited 
cheers.  "  as  was  natal 
considered  their  most  powerful  foe";  an  :.  h< 
an  enemy  so  relentless,  in  the  war  for  our  so 
we  could'  not  be  expected  to  mourn."    '■  :ured 
by  General  Wilson  he  affected  to  think  him- 
self of  all  suspicion  in  this  1  'Vin- 
son was  more  objectionable  to  him  than   I  — 
not  noticing  that  the  conspi:  -..plated  the  mur- 
der of  both  of  them. 
3  See  argument  o(  Tierrepont  on  trial  of  John  H. 
Surratt.  p.  ~~
44° 
ABRAHAM  LINCOLN. 
inmost  hearts  they  knew  to  have  wished  them 
well. 
There  was  one  exception  to  the  general  grief 
too  remarkable  to  be  passed  over  in  silence. 
Among  the  extreme  radicals  in  Congress  Mr. 
Lincoln's  determined  clemency  and  liberality 
towards  the  Southern  people  had  made  an  im- 
pression so  unfavorable  that,  though  they  were 
naturally  shocked  at  his  murder,  they  did  not 
among  themselves  conceal  their  gratification 
that  he  was  no  longer  in  their  way.  In  a  po- 
litical caucus,  held  a  few  hours  after  the  Presi- 
dent's death,  they  resolved  on  an  entire  change 
of  the  Cabinet,  and  a  "  line  of  policy  less  con- 
ciliatory than  that  of  Mr.  Lincoln ;  .  .  .  the 
feeling  was  nearly  universal" — we  are  using 
the  language  of  one  of  their  most  prominent 
representatives1 — "  that  the  accession  of  John- 
son to  the  Presidency  would  prove  a  godsend 
to  the  country."  The  next  day  the  Committee 
on  the  Conduct  of  the  War  called  on  the  new 
President,  and  Senator  Wade  bluntly  expressed 
to  him  the  feeling  of  his  associates  :  "Johnson, 
we  have  faith  in  you.  By  the  gods,  there  will  be 
no  trouble  now  in  running  the  Government."2 
Before  many  months  passed  away  they  had 
opportunity  to  learn  that  violence  of  speech 
was  no  guarantee  of  political  consistency. 
In  Washington,  with  this  singular  exception, 
the  manifestation  of  the  public  grief  was  im- 
mediate and  demonstrative.  The  insignia  of 
rejoicing  at  once  disappeared,  and  within  an 
hour  after  the  body  of  the  President  was  taken 
to  the  White  House  the  town  was  shrouded  in 
black.  Not  only  the  public  buildings,  the 
stores  and  shops,  and  the  better  class  of  resi- 
dences were  draped  in  funeral  decorations,  but 
a  still  more  touching  proof  of  the  affection  with 
which  the  dead  man  was  regarded  was  seen  in 
the  poorest  class  of  houses,  where  the  labor- 
ing men  of  both  colors  found  means  in  their 
penury  to  afford  some  scanty  show  of  mourn- 
ing. The  interest  and  the  veneration  of  the 
people  still  centered  in  the  White  House,  where, 
under  a  tall  catafalque  in  the  east  room,  the 
late  Chief  of  the  State  lay  in  the  majesty  of 
death,  and  not  at  the  modest  tavern  on  Penn- 
sylvania Avenue  where  the  new  President  had 
his  lodging.  At  eleven  o'clock  Chief-Justice 
Chase  administered  the  oath  of  office  to 
Andrew  Johnson  in  the  presence  of  a  few 
witnesses.  He  immediately  summoned  the 
Cabinet  for  a  brief  meeting.  Mr.  William 
H  unter  was  appointed  Acting  Secretary  of  State 
during  the  interim  of  the  disability  of  Mr. 
Seward  and  his  son,  and  directed  to  communi- 
cate to  the  country  and  the  world  the  change 
in  the  head  of  the  Government  brought  about 
1  George  W.  Julian,  "  Political  Recollections,"  p. 
255. 
2  Ibid.,  p.  257. 
by  the  last  night's  crime.  It  was  determined  that 
the  funeral  ceremonies  in  Washington  should 
be  celebrated  on  Wednesday,  the  19th  of 
April,  and  all  the  churches  throughout  the 
country  were  invited  to  join  at  the  same  time 
"  in  solemnizing  the  occasion  "  by  appropriate 
observances.  All  of  pomp  and  circumstance 
which  the  Government  could  command  was 
employed  to  give  a  fitting  escort  from  the  White 
House  to  the  Capitol,  where  the  body  of  the 
President  was  to  lie  in  state.  A  splendidly  ap- 
pointed force  of  cavalry,  artillery,  and  infantry 
formed  the  greater  part  of  the  procession,  which 
was  completed  by  delegations  from  Illinois  and 
Kentucky  as  mourners,  the  new  President,  the 
Cabinet,  the  ministers  of  foreign  powers,  and  all 
the  high  officers  of  the  nation,  legislative,  judi- 
cial, and  executive.  The  pall-bearers  comprised 
the  leading  members  of  both  houses  of  Congress 
and  the  officers  of  the  highest  rank  in  the  army 
and  navy. 
The  ceremonies  in  the  east  room  were  brief 
and  simple.  The  Rev.  Dr.  Hall  of  the  Church 
of  the  Epiphany  read  the  burial  service.  Bishop 
Simpson  of  the  Methodist  Church,  distinguished 
equally  for  his  eloquence  and  his  patriotism,  of- 
fered a  prayer,  and  the  Rev.  Dr.  P.  D.  Gurley, 
at  whose  church  the  President  and  his  family 
habitually  attended  worship,  delivered  a  short 
address,  commemorating,  in  language  notably 
free  from  courtly  flattery,  the  qualities  of  cour- 
age, purity,  and  sublime  faith  which  had  made 
the  dead  man  great  and  useful.  The  coffin 
was  carried  to  the  funeral  car,  and  the  vast 
procession  moved  to  the  Capitol  amid  the 
tolling  of  all  the  bells  in  Washington,  George- 
town, and  Alexandria,  and  the  booming  of 
minute-guns  at  Lafayette  Square,  at  the  City 
Hall,  and  on  the  hill  of  the  Capitol.  To  asso- 
ciate the  pomp  of  the  day  with  the  greatest 
work  of  Lincoln's  life,  a  detachment  of  colored 
troops  marched  at  the  head  of  the  line.  In  the 
rotunda,  under  the  soaring  dome  of  the  Capitol, 
the  coffin  rested  during  the  day  and  night  of 
the  19th  and  until  the  evening  of  the  next  day. 
The  people  passed  by  in  thousands  to  gaze 
on  the  face  of  the  liberator — which  had  taken 
on  in  death  an  expression  of  profound  happi- 
ness and  repose,  like  that  so  often  seen  on  the 
features  of  soldiers  shot  dead  in  battle. 
It  had  been  decided  from  the  first  that  the 
President  was  to  be  buried  at  Springfield. 
Whenever  a  President  dies,  whose  personality, 
more  than  his  office,  has  endeared  him  to  the 
people,  it  is  proposed  that  his  body  shall  rest 
at  Washington ;  but  the  better  instinct  of  the 
country,  no  less  than  the  natural  feelings  of 
the  family,  insist  that  his  dust  shall  lie  among 
his  own  neighbors  and  kin.  It  is  fitting  that 
Washington  shall  sleep  at  Mount  Vernon,  the 
Adamses  at  Quincy,  that  even  Harrison  and
77//C  MO(l/<N/N(;   PAGEANT, 
141 
Taylor  and  Garfield,  though  they  died  in  <>\ 
fice,  should  be  eonveyed  to  the  bosom  of  the 
States  which  had  cherished  them  and  sent  them 
to  the  service  of  the  nation.  So  Illinois  claimed 
her  greatest  citizen  for  final  sepulture  amid  the 
scenes  which  witnessed  the  growth  and  devel- 
opment of  his  unique  character.  The  town  of 
Springfield  set  apart  a  lovely  spot  in  its  north- 
ern suburb  for  his  grave  and  appropriated 
$20,000 — a  large  sum  considering  the  size 
and  wealth  of  the  town  —  to  defray  the  ex- 
penses of  his  funeral.  As  soon  as  it  was  an- 
nounced that  he  was  to  be  buried  in  Illinois 
every  town  and  city  on  the  route  begged  that 
the  train  might  halt  within  its  limits  and  give 
its  people  the  opportunity  of  testifying  their 
grief  and  their  reverence.  It  was  finally  ar- 
ranged that  the  funeral  cortege  should  follow 
substantially  the  same  route  over  which  Lin- 
coln had  come  in  1861  to  take  possession  of 
the  place  to  which  he  had  given  a  new  dig- 
nity and  value  for  all  time. 
Governor  Brough  of  Ohio  and  Mr.  John  W. 
Garrett  of  Baltimore  were  placed  in  general 
charge  of  the  solemn  journey.  A  guard  of 
honor  consisting  of  a  dozen  officers  of  high 
rank  in  the  army  and  navy1  was  detailed  by 
their  respective  departments,  which  received 
the  remains  of  the  President  at  the  station  in 
Washington  at  eight  o'clock  on  the  morning 
of  Friday,  the  21st  of  April,  and  the  train, 
decked  in  somber  trappings,  moved  out  to- 
wards Baltimore.  In  this  city,  through  which, 
four  years  before,  it  was  a  question  whether 
the  President-elect  could  pass  with  safety  to 
his  life,  the  train  made  a  halt ;  the  coffin  was 
taken  with  sacred  care  to  the  great  dome 
of  the  Exchange,  and  there,  surrounded  by 
evergreens  and  lilies,  it  lay  for  several  hours, 
the  people  passing  by  in  mournful  throngs. 
Night  was  closing  in,  with  rain  and  wind,  when 
the  train  reached  Harrisburg,  and  the  coffin 
was  carried  through  the  muddy  streets  to  the 
State  Capitol,  where  the  next  morning  the  same 
scenes  of  grief  and  affection  were  seen.  We 
need  not  enumerate  the  many  stopping-places 
of  this  mournful  pageant.  The  same  demon- 
stration was  repeated,  gaining  continually  in 
intensity  of  feeling  and  solemn  splendor  of 
display,  in  every  city  through  which  the  pro- 
cession passed.  At  Philadelphia  a  vast  con- 
course accompanied  the  dead  President  to 
Independence  Hall :  he  had  shown  himself 
worthy  of  the  lofty  fate  he  courted  when,  on 
that  hallowed  spot,  on  the  birthday  of  Wash- 
ington, 1 86 1,  he  had  said  he  would  rather  be 
assassinated  than  give  up  the  principles  em- 
bodied in  the  Declaration  of  Independence. 
1  General  E.  D.  Townsend  represented  the  Secre- 
tary of  War,  Rear- Admiral  C.  H.  Davis  the  Secretary 
of  the  Navy. 
- 
Tim  PUMBXAL  CAS.      (aithk   a  •   uv   r    RSI 
Here,  as  at  many  other  pla<  ich- 
ing  manifestations  of  lo\  -me 
from  the  poor,  who  brought   ::  rined 
by  themselves  to  lav  upoi 
ception  at  New  York  was  worthy  alike  of  the 
great  city  and  of  the  memory  <>\  the  man  they 
honored.    The  body  lay  in  state  in  I 
Hall  and  a  half-million  of  people  passed  in 
deep  silenee  before   it.     II 
came,  pale  and  feeble,  but  resolute,  t 
tribute  of  respect  to  his  departed  friend  and 
commander. 
The  train  went  up  the  Hudson  Ri. 
night,  and  at  every  town  and  village  on  the 
way  vast  crowds  were  revealed  in  waiting 
the  fitful  glare  of  torches:  dirges  and  byi 
were  sung  as  the  train  moved  by.    M     1 
had  passed  when  the  coffin  was  b  rne  to  the 
Capitol  at  Albany,  yet  the  multitude  rushed 
in  as  if  it  were  day.  and  for  twelve  hours  the 
long  line  of  people  from  northern   New  \ 
and  the  neighboring   States  poured  through 
the  room. 
Over  the  broad  spaces  of  New  Y<>rk  the 
cortege  made  its  way,  through  one  continuous 
crowd  of  mourners.    At  Syracuse  thirty  thou- 
sand people  came  out  in  a  storm  at  midnight 
to  greet  the  passing  train  with  fires  and  bells 
and  cannons  ;  at  Rochester  the  same  solemn 
observances  made  the  night  memorable :   at 
Buffalo  —  it  was  now  the  morning  of  the  . 
—  the  body  lay  in  state  at  St.  James's  Hall. 
visited  by  a  multitude  from  the  western  coun- 
ties.  As  the  train  passed  into  Ohio  the  cr 
increased    in    density,   and    the    public   grief 
seemed  intensified  at  every  step  west  wan: ; 
people  of  the  great  central  basin  seeme 
be    claiming    their    own.     The  day  spent  at 
Cleveland  was  unexampled  in  the  depth  of 
emotion  it  brought  to  life,  the  warm  dev 
to  the  memory  of  the  great  man   gone  which 
was  exhibited  :  some  of  the  guard  of  h 
have  said  that  it  was  at  that  point  they  beg 
to  appreciate  the  place  which  1  b 
hold  in  history.     The  authorities,  seeing  that 
no  building  could    accommodate  the  crowd 
which  was"  sure  to   come  from  all   over  the
44- 
ABRAHAM  LINCOLN, 
lw%'"'"r 
THE     MONUMENT    AT     SPRINGFIELD.        (AFTER    A    PHOTOGRAPH 
TAKEN     BY    J.     A.     W.     PITTMAN     FOR    J.     C.     POWER.) 
State,  wisely  erected  in  the  public  square  an 
imposing  mortuary  tabernacle  for  the  lying  in 
state,  brilliant  with  evergreens  and  flowers  by 
day.  and  innumerable  gas  jets  by  night,  and 
surmounted  by  the  inscription,  Exthictus  ama- 
biiur  idem.  Impressive  religious  ceremonies 
were  conducted  in  the  square  by  Bishop  Mc- 
Ilvaine,  and  an  immense  procession  moved  to 
the  station  at  night  between  two  lines  of  torch- 
lights. Columbus  and  Indianapolis,  the  State 
capitals  of  Ohio  and  Indiana,  were  next  vis- 
ited. The  whole  State,  in  each  case,  seemed 
gathered  to  meet  their  dead  hero  ;  an  intense 
personal  regard  was  everywhere  evident;  it  was 
the  man,  not  the  ruler,  they  appeared  to  be 
celebrating ;  the  banners  and  scrolls  bore  prin- 
cipally his  own  words  :  "  With  malice  towards 
none,  with  charity  for  all  " ;  "  The  purposes  of 
the  Lord  are  perfect  and  must  prevail  ";  "  Let 
us  resolve  that  the  dead  shall  not  have  died  in 
vain  ";  and  other  brief  passages  from  his  writ- 
ings. On  arriving  in  Chicago,  on  the  ist  of 
May,  amid  a  scene  of  magnificent  mourning, 
the  body  was  borne  to  the  court-house,  where 
it  lay  for  two  days  under  a  canopy  of  somber 
richness,  inscribed  with  that  noble  Hebrew 
lament,  "  The  beauty  of  Israel  is  slain  upon 
thy  high  places."  From  all  the  States  of  the 
Northwest  an  innumerable  throng  poured  for 
these  two  days  into  Chicago,  and  flowed,  a 
mighty  stream  of  humanity,  past  the  coffin  of 
the  dead  President,  in  the  midst  of  evidences 
of  public  grief  which  was  all  the  more  genuine 
for  being  quiet  and  reserved. 
The  last  stage  of  this  extraordinary  progress 
was  the  journey  to  Springfield,  which  began  on 
the  night  of  the  2d  of  May  and  ended  at  nine 
o'clock  the  next  morning  —  the  schedule  made 
in  Washington  twelve  days  before  having  been 
accurately  carried  out.  On  all  the  railroads 
centering  in  Springfield  the  trains  for  several 
days  had  been  crowded  to  their  utmost  capac- 
ity with  people  who  desired  to  see  the  last  of 
Abraham  Lincoln  upon  earth.  Nothing  had 
been  done  or  thought  of  for  two  weeks  in 
Springfield  but  the  preparations  for  this  day ; 
they  were  made  with  a  thoroughness  which 
surprised  the  visitors  from  the  East.  The  body 
lay  in  state  in  the  Capitol,  which  was  richly 
draped  from  roof  to  basement  in  black  velvet 
and  silver  fringe;  within  it  was  a  bower  of 
bloom  and  fragrance.  For  twenty-four  hours 
an  unbroken  stream  of  people  passed  through, 
bidding  their  friend  and  neighbor  welcome 
home  and  farewell,  and  at  ten  o'clock  on  the 
4th  of  May  the  cofhn  lid  was  closed  at  last 
and  a  vast  procession  moved  out  to  Oak  Ridge, 
where  the  dead  President  was  committed  to  the 
soil  of  the  State  which  had  so  loved  and  hon- 
ored him.  The  ceremonies  at  the  grave  were 
simple  and  touching.  Bishop  Simpson  deliv- 
ered a  pathetic  oration;  prayers  were  offered 
and  hymns  were  sung ;  but  the  weightiest  and 
most  eloquent  words  uttered  anywhere  that 
day  were  those  of  the  Second  Inaugural,  which 
the  committee  had  wisely  ordained  to  be  read 
over  his  grave,  as  the  friends  of  Raphael  chose 
the  incomparable  canvas  of  the  Transfiguration 
as  the  chief  ornament  of  his  funeral. 
An  association  was  immediately  formed  to 
build  a  monument  over  the  grave  of  Lincoln. 
The  work  was  in  the  hands  of  his  best  and  old- 
est friends  in  Illinois,  and  was  pushed  with 
vigor.  Few  large  subscriptions  were  received, 
with  the  exception  of  $50,000  voted  by  the 
State  of  Illinois  and  $10,000  by  New  York; 
but  innumerable  small  contributions  afforded 
all  that  was  needed.  The  soldiers  and  sailors  of 
the  nation  gave  $28,000,  of  which  the  dispro- 
portionately large  amount  of  $8,000  was  the 
gift  of  the  negro  troops,  whose  manhood  Lin- 
coln had  recognized  by  putting  arms  in  their 
hands.1  In  all  $180,000  was  raised,  and  the 
monument,  built  after  a  design  by  Larkin  G. 
Mead,  was  dedicated  on  the  15th  of  October, 
1874.    The  day  was  fine,  the  concourse   of 
1  Besides  contributing  thus  generally  to  the  Spring- 
field monument,  the  freed  people  gave  another  touch- 
ing instance  of  their  gratitude  by  erecting  in  a  public 
square  on  Capitol  Hill  in  Washington  a  noble  group 
in  bronze,  including  Lincoln,  and  entitled  "Emanci- 
pation." The  subscription  for  this  purpose  was  started 
by  a  negro  washerwoman.  The  statue  is  by  Thomas 
Ball.
PURSUIT  AND    DEATH   OF  JOHN  WILKES   BOOTH, 
443 
people  was  enormous;  there  were  music  and 
eloquence  and  a  brilliant  decorative  display. 
The  orator  of  the  day  was  Governor  Oglesby, 
who  praised  his  friend  with  warm  but  sober 
eulogy;  General  Sherman  added  his  honest 
and  hearty  tribute ;  and  General  Grant,  twice 
elected  President,  uttered  these  carefully  chosen 
words,  which  had  all  the  weight  that  belongs  to 
the  rare  discourses  of  that  candid  and  reticent 
soldier : 
• 
From  March,  1864,  to  the  day  when  the  hand 
of  the  assassin  opened  a  grave  for  Mr.  Lincoln,  then 
President  of  the  Uni(  ny  prsonal  relations 
with  him  were  as  close  and  intimal 
of  our  respective  dul 
him  personally  wz .  to  lov 
great  qualities  ol  ii  tail  an  I 
;iii«l  patriotism.    With  all 
failures  on  the  part  of  those  to  whom  he  rud  in- 
trusted commands,  and  treai  ' 
those  who  had  gamed  his  COnfi  |  to  betray 
it,  I  never  heard  him   utter  a  complaint,  nor 
censure,  for  bad  conduct  or  bad   faith.    It  was  his 
nature  to  find  excuses  for  his  adv-  I  1  his 
death  the  nation  lost  its  gi  ro;  in  his  death 
the  South  lost  its  most  just  triend. 
PURSUIT  AND  DEATH  OF  JOHN  WILKES  BOOTH. 
[John  Wilkes  Booth  was  my  schoolmate  in  Maryland,  many  years  ago ;  and  by  a  strange 
coincidence  three  of  my  particular  friends  were  concerned,  in  one  way  or  another,  with  his 
pursuit  and  death.  Two  of  them  were  Confederate  officers — Major  M.  B.  Ruggles,  son  of 
General  Daniel  Ruggles  of  the  old  army,  and  Lieutenant  A.  R.  Bainbridge,  both  of  whom, 
with  Captain  Jett,  also  of  Mosby's  command,  met  Booth  and  Herold  in  their  flight  and  aided 
them  to  cross  the  Rappahannock.  The  other  friend  is  Captain  E.  P.  Doherty,  who  com- 
manded the  detachment  of  the  16th  New  York  Cavalry  that  captured  the  fugitives.  From 
the  lips  of  all  three  I  have  heard  accounts  of  the  incidents  that  they  witnessed,  and  the 
narratives  that  follow  are  given  in  the  words  of  Major  Ruggles  and  Captain  Doherty.1 — 
Prentiss  Ingraham.] 
MAJOR  RUGGLES'S  NARRATIVE. 
T  the  close  of  the  civil  war 
Colonel  Mosby,  to  whose 
command  I  belonged,  sur- 
rendered to  General  Han- 
cock, at  Millwood,  Vir- 
ginia. In  company  with 
two  comrades,  A.  R.  Bain- 
bridge, now  in  business  in 
New  York,  and  William  Jett,  now  dead,  I 
started  for  my  home  in  King  George  County, 
Virginia.  We  had  heard  from  United  States 
officers  of  the  assassination  of  Mr.  Lincoln, 
and  that  the  assassin  had  been  captured  in 
Washington,  and  little  dreamed,  when  we  rode 
up  to  the  bank  of  the  Rappahannock  River, 
that  we  were  there  to  come  face  to  face  with 
John  Wilkes  Booth. 
Port  Conway  is  on  the  King  George  side 
of  the  river,  there  about  three  hundred  yards 
wide,  and  opposite  Port  Royal.  The  ferry  was 
owned  by  a  man  named  Rollins,  but  the  scow 
was  run — that  is,  poled  across — by  Peyton 
Washington,  a  negro.    The  scow  was  on  the 
1  The  proofs  of  this  article  have  been  read  and  cor- 
rected (Nov.,  1889)  by  Colonel  Ingraham,  Major  Rug- 
gles, Lieutenant  Bainbridge,  and  Captain  Doherty. — 
Editor. 
2  The  reward  as  offered  was  $100,000  by  the  U.  S. 
Government,  and  $25,000  each  by  three  of  the  States. 
other  side  of  the  river  when  we  rode  up,  and 
I  observed  there  a  wagon,  drawn  by  two  very 
wretched-looking  horses.  In  the  wagon  were 
two  men.  On  seeing  us  approach,  one  of  them 
came  towards  us,  and,  finding  that  we  were  Con- 
federate soldiers,  said  that  his  name  was  B 
and  that  his  brother  had  been  wounded  se- 
verely in  the  leg  while  escaping  from  prison, 
where  they  had  been  for  some  time.  He  fur- 
thermore said  that  their  negro  driver,  Lu 
refused  to  take  them  any  farther,  and  that  they 
were  anxious  to  get  on  their  way,  and  asked 
our  aid.  I  at  once  said  we  would  help  them  ; 
and  while  discussing  the  speedy  coming  of  the 
scow,  the  other  got  out  of  the  wagon,  and 
walking  with  evident  pain,  with  the  aid  of  a 
rude  crutch,  came  towards  us.  He  apparently 
mistrusted  his  companion,  for  as  he  came  for- 
ward he  said,  "  I  suppose  you  have  been  told 
who  I  am  ?  "  Thinking  he  meant  that  Her- 
old had  told  us  they  were  Confederate  soldiers, 
escaped  from  prison.  I  answered  in  the  affirma- 
tive. Instantly  he  dropped  his  weight 
upon  his  crutch,  and  drawing  a  revolver  said 
sternly,  with  the  utmost  coolness.  "  Yes,  I  am 
John'Wilkes  Booth,  the  slaver  of  Abraham 
Lincoln,  and  I  am  worth  just  $175,00 
the  man  who  captures  me."-  We  were  greatly 
surprised,  and  yet  the  coolness  of  the  man 
won  our  admiration ;  for  we  saw  that  he  was 
wounded,  desperate,  and  at  bay.    Hi-
prxsr/r  axd  death  of  john  wilkes  booth. 
ggard,  pinched  with  suffering,  his  dark  eyes 
:en,  but  strangely  bright,  and  though  he 
had  shaved  off  his  mustache,  upon  his  lip  and 
was  a  beard  of  some  ten  days'  growth. 
In  response  to  his  defiant  words  I  said  that 
we  had  been  told  that  Lincoln's  slayer  had  been 
captured  ;  but  that,  though  we  did  not  sanction 
his  act  as  an  assassin,  we  were  not  men  to  take 
••  blood  money  " ;  and  that  having  promised  his 
friend,  who  proved  to  be  Herold,  to  take  them 
across  the  river  to  a  place  of  safety,  we  would 
.  Though  it  is  contrary  to  the  general  be- 
lief ot  the  people  of  the  North,  I  believe  that 
had  the  war  then  been  going  on,  Booth,  instead 
of  finding  an  asylum  in  the  South,  would  have 
been  taken  and  surrendered  to  the  United  States 
by  the  Confederate  Government. 
Booth  replaced  his  weapon  at  my  words,  and, 
thanking  us,  said  he  was  utterly  unable  to  walk. 
1  dismounted,  and  we  lifted  him  upon  my  horse 
—  a  fact  that  seemed  to  give  the  saddle  and 
bridle  a  great  pecuniary  value,  as  I  learned 
through  correspondence  with  Mr.  Barnum; 
though  they  were  never  exhibited  as  relics,  and 
are  now  at  my  brother's  home  in  Virginia,  there 
kept  as  souvenirs  of  my  "  days  with  Mosby." 
1  Colonel  John  J.  Garnett,  who  at  the  close  of  the 
war  was  with  General  Joseph  E.  Johnston  as  Chief  of 
Artillery,  received  from  Lieutenant  Bainbridge,  whom 
he  has  known  for  many  years,  the  following  additional 
particulars  of  the  intercourse  of  the  three  Confederate 
officers  with  Booth  and  Herold  :  "  Captain  Jett  was 
well  acquainted  in  Caroline  County,  on  the  opposite 
side  of  the  river,  and  he  told  Booth,  with  our  approval, 
that  he  would  find  a  place  of  safety  for  him.  '  God 
bless  you,  sir  ! '  said  Booth,  his  face  wincing  with  the 
pain  of  his  disabled  leg.  When  Booth  realized  that  we 
were  kindly  disposed,  he  threw  off  all  reserve  and  be- 
came quite  communicative.  Booth  was  dressed  in  a 
dark  suit  of  clothes  that  looked  seamed  and  ravelly,  as 
if  from  rough  contact  with  thorny  undergrowth.  On 
his  head  was  a  seedy  looking  black  slouch  hat,  which 
he  kept  well  pulled  down  over  his  forehead.  The  lame 
foot  was  entirely  free  from  all  covering,  save  a  black 
stocking.  The  shoe  which  was  on  it  was  entirely  cut 
away  at  the  top,  the  heel  only  being  covered  with 
leather.  The  foot  was  much  swollen,  and  seemed  to 
trouble  him  greatly.  The  crutch  he  carried  was  rough- 
hewn  and  ungainly.  His  long  dark  mustache  swept 
over  his  mouth  in  a  straggling,  unkempt  manner,  al- 
though it  was  evident  that  he  had  tried  to  preserve  its 
shape  by  frequent  handling.  Indeed,  during  all  the 
time  he  sat  with  us  he  was  constantly  pulling  it  into 
shape.  His  beard,  of  a  coal-black  hue,  was  of  about 
two  weeks'  growth  and  gave  his  face  an  unclean  appear- 
ance. Over  his  shoulders  drooped  a  long  gray  shawl, 
which  he  said  had  served  him  well  in  covering  the  tell- 
tale initials  'J.  W.  B.'  done  in  Indian  ink  on  his  right 
hand.  These  letters  he  showed  to  us  to  establish  his 
identity.  Strung  over  his  shoulders  by  a  long  strap 
were  a  pair  of  large  field  glasses,  which  he  said  had 
not  been  of  much  use  to  him,  because  he  had  'been 
•':  to  keep  under  cover  too  much.'  .  .  .  The  wind 
lulled  after  we  had  waited  a  long  time,  and  the  ferryman 
came  over  for  us.  Captain  Ruggles  helped  Booth  to 
mount  his  horse,  and  together  we  went  over  to  Port 
.a  village  opposite  Port  Conway.  The  ferryman 
eyed  us  all  very  closely  and  we  said  but  very  little. 
Booth  sat  squarely  on  his  horse,  looking  expectantly 
Booth  and  Herold  both  seemed  to  be  the 
worse  for  their  exposure  and  hardships  of  the 
past  few  days.  Booth  wore  a  black  soft  hat, 
dark  clothes,  one  cavalry  boot, —  the  one  on  his 
wounded  leg  having  been  cut  off, —  and  his 
weapons  were  a  carbine,  two  revolvers,  and  a 
knife,  the  blade  of  the  latter  bearing  the  stain 
of  blood,  for  with  it  he  had  wounded  Major 
Rathbone.  I  noticed  that  his  wounded  leg  was 
greatly  swollen,  inflamed,  and  dark,  as  from 
bruised  blood,  while  it  seemed  to  have  been 
wretchedly  dressed,  the  splints  being  simply 
pasteboard  rudely  tied  about  it.  That  he  suf- 
fered intense  pain  all  the  time  there  was  no 
doubt,  though  he  tried  to  conceal  his  agony, 
both  physical  and  mental. 
When  the  scow  arrived  Peyton  Washington 
ferried  us  across  the  river.  After  a  ride  of 
three  miles  we  came  to  the  Garrett  farm, 
where  we  asked  for  shelter  for  the  fugitives, 
which  was  granted.  We  also  remained  all 
night  near  Garrett's,  sleeping  in  the  woods, 
and  the  next  day  Herold  went  with  us  to 
Bowling  Green,  where  we  left  Jett.1 
The  next  day,  Herold  having  decided  upon 
the  best  course  to  pursue  in  his  flight,  Bain- 
towards  the  opposite  shore,  and  when  the  boat  struck 
the  wharf  he  lost  no  time  in  landing.  I  could  see  that 
his  spirits  were  improving,  and  he  laughed  heartily  when 
we  surrounded  him  in  a  group.  '  I  'm  safe  in  glorious 
old  Virginia,  thank  God  !  '  he  exclaimed.  '  Now,  boys,' 
said  Jett,  '  I  propose  to  take  our  friend  Booth  up  to 
Garrett's  house.  1  think  they  '11  give  him  shelter  there 
and  treat  him  kindly.'  'Whatever  you  deem  best  to 
do  with  me,  my  friends,'  replied  Booth,'  I  '11  agree  to 
be  satisfied.'  'Jett  understands  this  country,'  said 
Captain  Ruggles,  '  and  I  think  that  it  will  be  well  to 
act  as  he  directs.'  'I  'm  in  your  hands,'  said  Booth; 
'  do  with  me,  boys,  as  you  think  best.'  '  Well,'  said 
Jett,  '  I  want  to  do  the  best  I  can  for  you ;  and  I  think 
our  plan  is  to  escort  Mr.  Booth  up  to  Garrett's,  tell 
the  family  who  he  is,  and  trust  to  their  hospitality  to 
see  him  kindly  cared  for  until  such  time  as  he  sees  fit 
to  seek  other  quarters.'  After  a  few  minutes'  further 
conversation  we  left  the  wharf  and  started  through  Port 
Royal  on  the  road  to  Garrett's  farm.  His  house  was 
some  distance  from  the  main  road,  and  when  we  reached 
the  gate  leading  into  the  farm  Herold,  who  said  that 
he  wanted  to  go  with  us  as  far  as  Bowling  Green  to 
buy  a  pair  of  shoes,  remained  with  me,  while  Jett  and 
Ruggles  accompanied  Booth  to  the  house.  Garrett's 
residence  was  in  the  style  at  that  time  in  vogue  among 
Southern  planters.  It  was  a  large,  wooden  framed 
building,  with  broad  porches  on  every  side.  It  stood  on 
a  hill,  from  which  sloped  in  every  direction  broad  roll- 
ing fields,  fair  in  their  verdure  as  ever  greeted  the  eye 
of  man.  When  Booth  was  a  few  rods  distant  in  the  lane 
from  where  Herold  and  I  were  standing,  he  suddenly 
wheeled  his  horse  about,  and  lifting  his  slouch  hat  from 
his  head  waved  it  towards  us  and  shouted  back  :  '  Good- 
by,  old  fellow.  Good-by,  Lieutenant;  come  and  see 
me  again.  I  shall  always  be  pleased  to  see  you  both.' 
'  I  '11  be  with  you  soon,  John,'  returned  Herold ;  '  keep 
in  good  spirits.'  '  Have  no  fear  about  me,  Herold,' 
Booth  replied;  '  I  am  among  friends  now ';  with  which 
he  turned  his  horse,  and  followed  at  a  gallop  after 
Jett  and  Ruggles,  who  were  far  in  advance  of  him. 
Booth  impressed  me  at  that  moment  as  the  most 
reckless  man  I  had  ever  met.    Without  a  parole  as  I
PURSUIT  AND   J) HAT/ 1   OF  JOHN  WILKES   BOOTH. 
445 
bridge  and  myself  accompanied  him  back  to 
Garrett's.  We  found  Booth  lying  on  the  grass, 
in  front  of  the  house,  and  sitting  by  his  side 
I  heard  from  his  lips  his  version  of  the  tragic 
conspiracy,  his  fatal  shot,  his  motives,  escape, 
and  flight  up  to  his  coming  to  the  Garretts'.  In 
answer  to  my  questions  he  spoke  quietly,  re- 
pressing now  and  then  a  groan  of  pain,  and 
showing  emotion  and  stern  defiance  at  times. 
He  said,  in  substance,  that  the  plot  had  been 
to  capture  Mr.  Lincoln  and  carry  him  a  pris- 
oner into  the  Confederacy,  for  he  believed 
that  by  such  an  act  the  war  could  be  brought 
to  an  end,  as  the  South  could  dictate  terms 
with  such  a  hostage.  Failing  in  this,  he  de- 
cided at  the  last  moment,  as  it  were,  to  strike 
deadly  blows  at  Mr.  Lincoln,  Mr.  Seward, 
and  General  Grant.  In  the  plot  to  kill,  Payne  Y 
alone  was  implicated  with  him,  not  even  Her- 
old  knowing  what  was  to  be  done.  Atzerodt 
knew  nothing  of  the  intended  assassination, 
nor  did,  according  to  Booth's  statement  to  me, 
any  other,  excepting  Payne.  The  name  of  Mrs. 
Surratt  was  not  mentioned  by  him.    He  said 
th.it  Payne  was  to  strife  blow  at. 
retary  Seward,  and  he,  favored  by  the  fact  that 
President  Lincoln  and  I 
attend  the  theater  together,  ••      to  kill  both 
of  them.    General  Grant's  havij  .lied 
away  alone  saved  his  life,  fo  ••  1 
would  have  made  DO  failure  with  eil 
had  laid  my  plans  for  nil  I  I  An- 
drew Johnson  might  appear  to  be  impft 
in  the  plot  of  assassination,  Booth  said  that  he 
had  left  that  morning  a  note  at  the  hotel  where 
the  Vice-President  lived,  v>  compromise  him. 
He  had  no  idea,  he  said,  from  the  information 
received  about  Washington,  that  the  war  had 
really  ended;  for  had  he  not  believed  that  it 
would  have  been  kept  up  by  the  South,  he 
would  not  have  struck  the  blow  as  he  did. 
After  getting  safely  out  of  Washington  his  in- 
tention was  to  cross  the  line,  as  quickly  as 
possible,  into  the  Confederacy.  Joining  Her- 
old  at  a  rendezvous,  they  had  ridden  hard 
through  the  night  to  gain  a  pla  fety  : 
but  having  a  broken  leg,  and  learning  after 
several  days,  through  the  papers,  that  the  war 
was,  and  in  my  own  country,  amid  scenes  with  which 
I  had  been  familiar  since  childhood,  I  did  not  feel  that 
I  was  perfectly  safe.  If  he  felt  any  premonitions  of 
danger,  as  I  certainly  felt  that  in  his  position  he  should, 
he  gave  no  signs  of  them.  He  seemed  as  light-hearted 
and  careless  as  a  schoolboy  just  released  from  his 
studies.  Herold  and  I  went  on  to  Bowling  Green, 
where  we  remained  all  night,  stopping  at  the  house  of 
a  Mr.  Clark.  Jett  and  Ruggles,  after  escorting  Booth 
up  to  Garrett's  house  and  seeing  him  well  disposed, 
went  on  to  Bowling  Green,  where  they  stopped  with 
Mr.  Goldman,  for  whose  daughter  Jett  had  tender  feel- 
ings. On  the  following  day  I  learned  of  Johnston's  sur- 
render, and  decided  to  go  back  to  my  home  in  King 
George  County  and  settle  down  to  the  life  of  a  peace- 
ful citizen.  I  met  Jett  and  Ruggles  and  told  them  of 
my  intention,  and  they  concluded  to  do  likewise.  I  in- 
quired for  Booth,  and  in  what  shape  they  had  left  him, 
and  Willie  Jett  told  me  that  he  did  not  think  under 
the  existing  state  of  affairs  the  Garretts  liked  to  harbor 
Booth  in  their  house.  'And  yet,'  said  Jett,  '  they  did 
not  like  to  turn  him  away.'  After  a  little  persuasion 
Mr.  Garrett  agreed  to  allow  him  to  remain  on  his 
place,  although  he  felt  that  he  would  be  running  a  big 
risk  in  doing  so.  '  He  '11  be  well  taken  care  of,  never 
fear,'  said  Jett,  who  decided  to  remain  at  Goldman's 
house  for  a  few  days.  Captain  Ruggles  and  I  went  on 
the  next  morning  towards  Port  Royal  together,  Her- 
old accompanying  us  as  far  as  Garrett's  gate,  where  we 
left  him.  He  told  us  that  he  was  going  right  up  to 
join  Booth,  and  that  he  would  stick  by  him  to  the 
death.  Just  before  reaching  Port  Royal  I  met  a  sol- 
dier of  my  command,  who  told  me  that  if  we  had  not 
got  our  paroles,  and  did  not  want  to  be  captured,  to 
turn  back.  '  For,'  said  he,  '  the  town  is  full  of  Yankees 
in  search  of  Booth,  who,  they  say,  crossed  the  river 
yesterday.'  We  turned  immediately  and  rode  back  to 
Garrett's.  As  we  approached  the  front  gate  Booth 
was  lying  on  the  lawn  in  front  of  the  house.  As  soon 
as  he  recognized  us  he  arose,  and  hobbling  towards 
us  said,  '  Well,  boys,  what  's  in  the  wind  now?  '  We 
told  him  the  enemy  was  upon  his  trail,  and  advised 
him  to  seek  shelter  in  the  woods.  I  remember  point- 
ing to  a  thick  piece  of  woodland  some  distance  from 
the  house,  and  saying  :  '  Booth,  get  over  there  at  once, 
Vol.  XXXIX.— 62. 
and  hide  yourself.    In  those  wooded  ravines  you  will 
never  be  found.'    'Yes,'  said  Ruggles, '  get  there  a- 
quickly  as  you  can,  and  lose  no  time  about  starting.' 
Booth  turned  around  to  look  for  Herold,  but  he  wa> 
nowhere  in  sight,  as  indeed  was  no  one  else.    He  then 
straightened  himself  up  to  his  full  height,  and  replied  : 
'  I  '11  do  as  you  say,  boys,  right  off.    Ride  on !    Good- 
by !    It  will  never  do  for  you  to  be  found  in  my  com- 
pany.'   Then  biting  his  lips,  as  if  he  had 
desperate  resolve,  he  said,  '  Rest  assured  of  one  thing, 
good  friend,  Wilkes  Booth  will  never  be  taken  alive.' 
The  ferryman  at  Port  Conway  had  recognize d 
and  when  Lieutenant  Doherty  arrived  there  with  hi-» 
troops,  and  described  the  men  they  were  pursuing,  he 
knew  at  once  that  he  had  assisted  them  across  the 
river  the  day  before.    He  told  the  officers  that  he 
taken  five  men  across,  three  of  whom  were  Confeder- 
ate soldiers,  one  of  whom  he  knew  to  be  Captain 
as  he  had  often  taken  him   across.    If  he   had  only 
stopped  there  all  might  have  been  well  solar  as  Booth 
was  concerned,  for  some  time.    But  the  ferryman  was 
frightened.    He  thought  if  he  did  not  tell  all  he  knew 
he  would  be  arrested  as  an  accomplice  in  tl 
nation  of  Lincoln,  so  he  volunteered  the  information 
that  Captain  Jett  had  a  sweetheart  at  Bowling  Green, 
and  that  in  all  probability  he  would  be  found  there. 
The  people  of  the  South  conceived  the  idea  thai 
tain  Jett  deliberately  betrayed  Booth.    Nothing  could 
be  farther  from  the  truth.    Had  they  been  in  hi<  place, 
I  make  bold  to  say  they  would  have  acted  as  he  did. 
It  was  /it's  life  or  Booth's.    The  latter  had  no  fa 
but  Jett.  with  a  parole  in  his  possession,  had.  so  E 
he  knew,  a  long  life  of  happiness  before  him.    Lieu- 
tenant Doherty^  and    his   troops   were   hot   upon   the 
assassin's  trail,  and  were  not  to  be  denied  their  prey. 
Poor  Jett  had  only  one  alternative,  and  that  a 
become  their  guide,  and  I  am  sure  he  did  so  unwill- 
ingly.    He  has  been  dead  many  years,  and  I    know 
that  he  was  loyal  to  the  cause  he  espoused,  and  fought 
gallantly  for  it  to  the  end.    He  guided  the  troops  back 
to  Garrett's,  and  he  afterward  told  me  that  he  had 
hopes  that  Booth  might  have  been  warned  in  time  to 
escape,  as  indeed  he  had  been  by  us." —  Editor. 
1   Payne  was  a  deserter  from  a  Confederate  Florida 
regiment.
44^ 
rrxsr/r  axd  death  of  john  wilkes  booth: 
-eally  at  an  end.  he  determined  to  make 
his  way  to  the  silver  mines  of  Mexico,  feeling 
that  the  South  would  be  no  place  of  refuge  for 
him.    It  has  been  said  that  Booth  had  plenty 
.   with  him  ;   but  he  showed  me  three 
lollar  bills,  all  that  he  had,  excepting  a 
bill  of  exchange  :  while  Herold  had  not  as 
much.    1  asked  him  why  he  did  not  attempt 
get   to   Europe,  and  his  answer  was  that 
was  no  asylum  for  such  as  he  where  mon- 
archs  ruled,  as  they  feared   their  own  lives 
might  be  in  danger  from  the  example  he  had 
set. 
It  is  generally  believed  that  Herold  shot  his 
own  and  Booth's  horse;  but  Booth  told  me  that 
after  weighting  them  down  they  led  them  into 
the  Potomac  the  night  they  embarked  in  the 
i  cross,  and  drawing  their  heads  over  the 
gunwale  cut  their  throats  and  saw  them  sink 
from  sight.  This  would  account  for  the  fact 
that  their  bodies  were  never  found. x 
Booth  seemed  to  feel  that  he  had  been 
spurred  on  to  the  deed  through  a  duty  he 
owed  the  country  to  bring  the  war  to  an  end, 
and  he  said  that  he  would  never  be  taken 
alive.  If  he  had  not  broken  his  leg  he  could 
readily  have  distanced  all  pursuit.  He  was 
without  doubt  disappointed  at  the  reception 
he  met  in  Virginia,  and  said  that  he  was  pre- 
pared to  meet  any  fate.  The  calm  courage  of 
the  man  in  the  midst  of  his  great  peril,  and 
while  racked  by  suffering,  impressed  me  in  spite 
of  myself,  for  there  was  no  braggadocio  about 
him ;  simply  a  determination  to  submit  to  the 
inevitable,  parleying  when  it  should  become 
necessary  to  do  so.  The  few  extracts  he  read 
me  from  his  diary  showed  this. 
From  the  examination  I  made  of  his  broken 
leg,  aided  by  some  experience  I  had  had  with 
wounds,  I  feel  confident  that  amputation  would 
have  been  necessary  to  save  his  life,  and  per- 
haps that  would  not  have  prevented  a  speedy 
death. 
>n  after  my  long  conversation  with  Booth, 
Bainbridge  and  myself  bade  him  and  Herold 
-by  and  went  on  our  way,  remaining  that 
night  in  the  pines,  and    next    day  going    to 
Robb's,  where  we  learned  that  a  company  of 
United  States  cavalry  were  scouring  the  coun- 
nd  had  captured  the  fugitives  in  Garrett's 
barn.    Knowing   the  barn   well,  and  judging 
from  all  the  circumstances  connected  with  the 
burning  of  it,  I  feel  convinced  that  Sergeant  Bos- 
tt  has  a  reputation  undeserved  as  the 
slayer  of  Mr.  Lincoln's  assassin.  From  the  spot 
where  Sergeant  Corbett  was  he  could  not  have 
seen  Booth  where  he  stood,  and  certainly  could 
not  have  been  able  to  shoot  him  in  the  back  of 
the  head.  Having  asked  Captain  Doherty  to 
fall  back  fifty  paces  with  his  men  and  give  him 
a  chance  to  come  out,  and  very  properly  and 
naturally  being  refused  his  request  by  that  gal- 
lant officer,  deserted  by  Herold,  the  barn  on 
fire,  and  seeing  that  he  must  perish  in  the 
flames  or  be  taken  to  Washington  and  hanged, 
Booth,  hopeless,  alone,  and  at  bay,  placed  his 
pistol  to  the  back  of  his  head,  and  took  his  own 
life.  No  one  saw  Corbett  fire,  and  one  cham- 
ber of  Booth's  revolver  held  in  his  hand  was 
empty,  and  I  am  by  no  means  alone  in  the 
belief  that  he  killed  himself. 
Learning  that  Jett  was  a  prisoner,  and  that  we 
were  to  be  arrested,  tried,  and  hanged,  as  aid- 
ers and  abetters,  Bainbridge  and  myself  stood 
not  on  the  order  of  going,  but  went  at  once. 
Making  our  way  into  Essex  County  and  cross- 
ing to  Westmoreland,  we  went  to  our  home 
up  in  King  George  County.  Some  ten  days 
after,  I  was  arrested  at  night  by  a  squad  of 
United  States  cavalry.  Bainbridge  was  also 
captured.  We  were  taken  to  Washington  and 
placed  in  the  Old  Capitol  Prison.  We  were  not 
alone  in  our  misery,  however,  for  Dr.  Stew- 
art, at  whose  house  Booth  had  stopped,  Wil- 
liam Lucas,  the  negro  who  had  driven  him  to 
the  ferry,  and  a  number  of  others,  were  there, 
among  them  being  Jett,  who  had  escaped  from 
Captain  Doherty,  and  had  been  recaptured  at 
his  home  in  Westmoreland  County. 
From  Booth's  own  words  to  me  as  he  lay 
on  the  grass  in  front  of  Garrett's  house,  I  feel 
assured  that  in  the  excitement  of  the  times 
there  were  some  innocent  ones  who  were  pun- 
ished for  the  crimes  of  Booth  and  Payne. 
After  the  trial,  by  a  strange  mistake  I  was 
sent  to  Johnson's  Island,  where  as  a  Confed- 
erate prisoner  I  had  passed  half  a  year;  but 
after  a  few  days  spent  there  I  was  returned  to 
Washington,  and  after  taking  the  oath  of 
allegiance  I  was  released. 
M.  B.  Buggies. 
CAPTAIN    DOHERTY'S    NARRATIVE. 
About  the  hour  of  4  p.  m.  April  24, 1865,  when 
Booth  and  Herold  were  taken  by  their  newly 
made  Confederate  friends  to  the  Garrett  farm, 
where  Booth  was  killed  and  Herold  captured, 
I  was  seated,  with  another  officer  of  the  16th 
New  York  Cavalry,  on  a  bench  in  the  park  op- 
posite the  White  House.  There  I  received  the 
following  orders  from  a  messenger : 
Headquarters,  Department  of  Washington,  April 
24,   1865.      Commanding   Officer    16th    New  York 
]    Lieutenant  Bainbridge  is  positive  that  he  heard 
oth  say:    "After  we  had  been  three  days  in  the  pines 
of  the  horses  of  the  Federal  cavalry  as  they  went  scout- 
ing through  the  country,  and  I  was  afraid  that  ours 
jmed  it  advisable  to  act  on  Jones's  advice  and  kill     might  answer  them  and  betray  our  whereabouts,  so  I 
.    1  could  hear  in  the  distance  the  neighing     asked  Herold  to  shoot  them,  which  he  did." — EDITOR.
PURSUIT  AND   DEATH   OF  JO  JIN  WILKES   BOOTH. 
147 
Cavalry.  Sir:  You  will  at  once  detail  a  reliable  and 
discreet  commission  officer  with  twenty-five  men, 
well  mounted,  with  three  days'  rations  and  forage, 
to  report  at  once  to  Colonel  L.  C.  Baker,  Agent  of  the 
War  Department,  at  2  i  i  Pennsylvania  Ave.  Com- 
mand of  General  C.C.  Augur. — J.C.  Sewlll,  A.  A.  A. 
Gen'l. 
In  accordance  with  the  foregoing  order  First  Lieu- 
tenant E.  P.  Doherty1  is  hereby  detailed  for  the  duty, 
and  will  report  at  once  to  Colonel  Baker,  2  1  1  Pennsyl- 
vania Ave. —  N.  B.  Switzer,  Colonel  1 6th  New  York 
Cavalry,  Bvt.  Brig.  Gen'l,  U.  S.  A. 
I  proceeded  to  the  barracks,  had  "  boots  and 
saddles  "  sounded,  and  in  less  than  half  an  hour 
had  reported  to  Colonel  Baker.  I  took  the  first 
twenty -five  men  in  the  saddle,  Sergeant  Boston 
Corbett  being  the  only  member  of  my  own  com- 
pany. Colonel  Baker  handed  me  photographs 
of  the  assassins  of  President  Lincoln.  He  told 
me  no  troops  had  yet  been  in  Fredericksburg, 
but  that  I  must  reach  that  vicinity  with  all  dis- 
patch. He  introduced  me  to  E.  J.  Conger  and 
L.  B.  Baker,  of  the  detective  force,  and  said 
they  would  accompany  me.  I  proceeded  down 
to  the  Sixth  street  wharf,  where  I  found  the 
steamer  John  S.  Ide,  and  directed  Captain  Wil- 
son to  move  down  to  Aquia  Creek  and  to  Belle 
Plain.  After  the  detachment  had  landed  I  di- 
rected the  captain  of  the  boat  to  move  off  to  a 
place  of  safe  anchorage  and  await  my  return. 
Should  I  not  return  before  6  p.  m.  on  the  26th 
he  was  to  go  back  to  Washington  and  report  to 
Captain  Allen,  assistant  quartermaster.  I  pro- 
ceeded directly  south  until  I  struck  the  main 
road  to  Fredericksburg.  Here  I  halted  at  4  a.  m. 
A  negro  informed  me  that  a  regiment  of  cav- 
alry had  passed  to  J  redericksburg  the  pre  . 
evening,  going  along  on  the  north    idc  of  the 
Rappahannock  River.    1  then  determined  to 
push  down  and  go  up  on  the  SOUI 
no  troops  hud  been. 
The  detectives  asked  for  a  detail  of  four 
and  a  sergeant  to  scour  the  country,  while  I 
with  the  rest  of  the  men  continued  on  ton 
the  Rappahannock.    The  <■■  returned 
about  3  p.  m.  without  any  clue  to  the  n 
abouts  of  the  assassins.  I  went  to  th«_-  ferry  at 
Port  Conway  and  saw  Mr.-,.  Rollins,  the  : 
man's  wife,  and  another  woman  sitting  on  the 
steps  of  the  ferry-house.  Drawing  Booth's  pic- 
ture from  my  pocket  1  showed  it  to  them,  and 
inferred  from  their  looks  that  Booth  was  not 
far  distant.  One  of  them  said  that  Booth  and 
Herold  had  been  brought  there  in  a  wagon 
the  evening  before  by  a  negro  named  Li 
who  would  carry  them  no  farther.  While  they 
were  bargaining  with  her  husband  to  take  them 
to  Orange  Court  House,  three  Confederate  sol- 
diers, Ruggles,  ifainbndge,  and  Jett,  rode  up 
and  they  entered  into  conversation.  By  and  by 
they  were  all  taken  over  the  ferry.  Booth  was 
put  on  Ruggles's  horse  and  they  proceeded 
towards  Bowling  Creen. 
I  at  once  sent  the  bugler  to  Sergeant  Corbett. 
telling  him  to  mount  the  detachment,  which 
I  had  left  a  mile  behind,  feeding,  and  move 
down  as  quickly  as  possible.  Mrs.  Rollins  went 
for  her  husband,  who  was  fishing,  and  I  sent 
him  for  the  scow,  which  was  on  the  other 
of  the  river.  During  his  absence  the  command 
arrived  at  the  ferrv  and  we  were  soon  over  the 
1  The  following  is  taken  from  the  report  of  Generals 
Joseph  Holt,  Judge  Advocate,  and  E.  D.  Townsend, 
Adjutant-General,  U.  S.  A.,  to  the  Secretary  of  War, 
Mr.  Stanton,  on  the  subject  of  the  arrest  of  those  en- 
gaged in  the  assassination  of  President  Lincoln,  which 
was  transmitted  to  Congress :  "  The  parties  who  made 
the  arrest  of  Booth  and  Herold  were  a  detachment  of 
the  16th  New  York  Cavalry  (consisting  of  Lieuten- 
ant E.  P.  Doherty,  commanding,  and  two  sergeants, 
seven  corporals,  and  seventeen  privates),  accompanied 
by  E.  J.  Conger  and  L.  B.  Baker,  two  employees  in  the 
detective  service  of  Colonel  L.  C.  Baker,  Provost- 
Marshal,  etc.,  the  officer  who  originated  and  directed 
the  expedition,  though  not  personally  accompanying 
it.  .  .  .  The  military  element  of  the  expedition  for 
the  arrest  of  these  criminals  Booth  and  Herold  is 
therefore  believed  to  have  been  that  which  was  essen- 
tial to  its  success,  and  without  which  its  results  could 
not  have  been  attained.  As  the  commander  of  the 
detachment  employed  upon  this  important  duty,  Lien- 
tenant  Doherty  was  solely  responsible  for  its  discipline 
and  efficiency.  He  is  found  to  have  been  active  and  ener- 
getic, and  it  is  believed  to  be  established  by  the  weight 
of  testimony  that  it  was  he  who  personally  made  the 
actual  seizure  of  Herold.  It  was  he,  too  (in  conjunction 
with  Mr.  Baker),  who  obtained  the  first  reliable  informa- 
tion which  rendered  the  capture  of  the  criminals  almost 
certain ;  and  though,  in  the  direction  of  the  investiga- 
tion, the  initiative  would  seem  more  frequently  to  have 
been  taken  by  Conger,  yet  Lieutenant  Doherty  is  shown 
to  have  acted  and  been  recognized  as  the  commander  of 
the  expedition  in  the  only  written  instructions  which  ap- 
pear to  have  been  issued  during  the  march,  to  wit,  those 
given  by  him  to  the  master  oi  the  steamer  which  con- 
veyed the  party  to  and  from   Belle  Plain.    Upon  the 
whole,  therefore,  it   is   concluded  that   as   such  com- 
mander he   may  properly  be   awarded   the  one-tenth 
portion  of  the  whole  amount  which  is  payable  by  law 
to  the  commanding  officer  of  a  vessel  i  in  mediate'.; 
gaged  in  the  capture  of  a  prize,  and  his  share  will  there- 
fore be  $7500.    The  services  of  Mes>r>.  Conger  and 
Baker  upon  this  expedition  were,  no  doubt,  ot"  g 
value;  and,  inasmuch  as  these  parties  immediately  rep- 
resented the  views  and  intentions  of  Colonel  Baker, 
their  part  in  carrying  out  the  original  plai 
ticularly  important.      It  is   understood  that  tin  i 
penses  incurred  upon  this  duty  have  been  reimbursed. 
and  that  they  have  also  been  paid,  or  are  entitled  to  be 
paid,  for  their  general  services,     -  -    ll  this 
period,  at  the  rate  of  $150  per  month.    They  should, 
however,  both  be  liberally,  and.  as  it  is  aally 
compensated  :   and  it  is  concluded  that  of  the  amount 
offered  as  reward  there  may  properly  be  pa 
the  sum  of  $4000.'" 
Sergeants  Corbett  and  Wendell  each  receive 
545. 6S  ;  each  of  the  seven  corporals  received  - :  2 
and  each  of  the  seventeen  privaf       $3         5 ;-    ^  tne 
$75,000  thus  distributed  as  a  reward  for  the  arrest  of 
Booth  and  Herold,  Colonel  L.  C.  Baker  received  the 
share  that  "  would  be  payable  to  the  commander 
squadron,  by  a  separate  ship  of  which  a  p;ize  had  been 
taken,"  that  is.  one-twentieth,  or  $3750. —  1".  I  I
448 
PURSUIT  AXD   DEATH  OF  JOHN  WILKES  BOOTH. 
river.  I  arrested  Rollins  the  ferryman,  and 
took  him  as  guide  to  Bowling  Green.  At  dark 
we  passed  the  Garrett  farm,  not  then  dream- 
ing that  the  assassins  were  concealed  there. 
ing  at  How  ling  Green,  I  surrounded  Gold- 
man's Hotel.  After  some  hesitation  the  door 
opened  by  Mrs.  Goldman.  I  inquired  of 
her  who  were  the  male  inmates  of  the  house. 
She  replied  that  there  was  only  her  wounded 
son.  and  1  directed  her  to  show  me  his  room, 
telling  her  that  if  my  men  were  fired  on  I 
should  burn  the  building  and  take  the  inmates 
prisoners  to  Washington.  She  took  me  up  one 
flight  ot  stairs  to  her  son's  room,  and  as  I  en- 
tered Captain  Jett  sprang  from  his  bed,  half- 
dressed.  Her  son  lay  on  another  bed,  wounded. 
Jett  admitted  his  identity,  and  drawing  Mr. 
Stanton's  proclamation  from  my  pocket  I  read 
it  to  him,  and  then  said,  "  I  have  known  your 
movements  for  the  past  two  or  three  days,  and 
if  you  do  not  tell  me  the  truth  I  will  hang  you; 
but  if  you  give  me  the  information  I  want,  I 
will  protect  you."  He  was  gfeatly  excited,  and 
told  me  that  he  had  left  Booth  at  Garrett's 
house,  three  miles  from  Port  Comvay,  the 
evening  before,  and  that  Herold  had  come  to 
Bowling  Green  with  him,  and  returned  that 
morning.  I  had  Jett's  horse  taken  from  the 
stable,  and,  placing  a  guard  over  him,  we  re- 
traced our  steps  towards  Garrett's.  It  was  now 
about  midnight,  and  my  men,  having  been  out 
since  the  24th  without  sleep  and  with  very  little 
food,  were  exhausted ;  those  who  had  been  left 
on  the  edge  of  the  town  had  fallen  asleep.  I 
had  some  difficulty  in  arousing  them,  but  when 
they  learned  that  we  were  on  Booth's  track  new 
life  seemed  to  be  infused  into  them.  I  placed 
Gorbett  in  the  rear  with  orders  to  allow  no  man 
to  fall  out  of  line.  Upon  reaching  Garrett's 
orchard  fence  I  halted,  and  in  company  with 
Rollins  and  the  detectives  took  a  survey  of 
the  premises.  I  had  the  fence  taken  down. 
I  told  off  six  men,  gave  out  the  countersign  of 
k-  Boston,"  and  sent  the  six  men  as  a  patrol  in 
rear  of  the  out-buildings,  with  instructions  to 
allow  no  one  to  pass  through  the  field  or  to 
approach  them  without  the  countersign.  The 
gates  in  front  of  Garrett's  house  were  quietly 
opened,  and  in  a  minute  the  whole  premises 
were  surrounded.  I  dismounted,  and  knocked 
loudly  at  the  front  door.  Old  Mr.  Garrett  came 
out.  I  seized  him,  and  asked  him  where  the 
men  were  who  were  there  yesterday.  He  re- 
plied that  they  had  gone  to  the  woods  when 
the  cavalry  passed  the  previous  afternoon. 
While  I  was  speaking  with  him  some  of  the 
men  had  entered  the  house  to  search  it.  Soon 
one  of  the  soldiers  sang  out,  "O  Lieutenant! 
I  have  a  man  here  I  found  in  the  corn-crib."  It 
was  young  Garrett,  and  I  demanded  the  where- 
abouts of  the  fugitives.    He  replied,  "  In  the 
barn."  Leaving  a  few  men  around  the  house, 
we  proceeded  in  the  direction  of  the  barn,  which 
we  surrounded.  I  kicked  on  the  door  of  the 
barn  several  times  without  receiving  a  reply. 
Meantime  another  son  of  Garrett's  had  been 
captured.  The  barn  was  secured  with  a  pad- 
lock, and  young  Garrett  carried  the  key.  I 
unlocked  the  door,  and  again  summoned  the 
inmates  of  the  building  to  surrender.  After 
some  delay  Booth  said,  "For  whom  do  you 
take  me  ?  "  I  replied,  "  It  does  n't  make  any 
difference.  Come  out."  He  said,  "  I  am  a 
cripple  and  alone."  I  said,  "I  know  who  is 
with  you,  and  you  had  better  surrender."  He 
replied,  "  I  may  be  taken  by  my  friends,  but 
not  by  my  foes."  I  said,  "  If  you  don't  come 
out,  I  '11  burn  the  building."  I  directed  a  cor- 
poral to  pile  up  some  hay  in  a  crack  in  the 
wall  of  the  barn,  and  set  the  building  on  fire. 
As  the  corporal  was  picking  up  the  hay  and 
brush  Booth  said,  "  If  you  come  back  here  I 
will  put  a  bullet  through  you."  I  then  mo- 
tioned to  the  corporal  to  desist,  and  decided 
to  wait  for  daylight  and  then  to  enter  the  barn 
by  both  doors  and  overpower  the  assassins. 
Booth  then  said,  in  a  drawling  voice,  "  O  Cap- 
tain! there  is  a  man  in  here  who  wants  to 
surrender  awful  bad."  I  replied,  "You  had 
better  follow  his  example  and  come  out."  His 
answer  was,  "  No,  I  have  not  made  up  my 
mind ;  but  draw  your  men  up  fifty  paces  off 
and  give  me  a  chance  for  my  life."  I  told  him 
I  had  not  come  to  fight;  that  I  had  fifty  men, 
and  could  take  him.  Then  he  said,  "  Well,  my 
brave  boys,  prepare  me  a  stretcher,  and  place 
another  stain  on  our  glorious  banner." 
At  this  moment  Herold  reached  the  door. 
I  asked  him  to  hand  out  his  arms ;  he  replied 
that  he  had  none.  I  told  him  I  knew  exactly 
what  weapons  he  had.  Booth  replied,  "  I  own 
all  the  arms,  and  may  have  to  use  them  on  you, 
gentlemen."  I  then  said  to  Herold,  "  Let  me 
see  your  hands."  He  put  them  through  the 
partly  opened  door  and  I  seized  him  by  the 
wrists.  I  handed  him  over  to  a  non-commis- 
sioned officer.  Just  at  this  moment  I  heard 
a  shot,  and  thought  Booth  had  shot  himself. 
Throwing  open  the  door,  I  saw  that  the  straw 
and  hay  behind  Booth  were  on  fire.  He  was 
half-turning  towards  it. 
He  had  a  crutch,  and  he  held  a  carbine  in 
his  hand.  I  rushed  into  the  burning  barn, 
followed  by  my  men,  and  as  he  was  falling 
caught  him  under  the  arms  and  pulled  him 
out  of  the  barn.  The  burning  building  becom- 
ing too  hot,  I  had  him  carried  to  the  veranda 
of  Garrett's  house. 
Booth  received  his  death-shot  in  this  man- 
ner. While  I  was  taking  Herold  out  of  the 
barn  one  of  the  detectives  went  to  the  rear, 
and  pulling  out  some  protruding  straw  set  fire
THE    W/NTEE    E/ELDS. 
to  it.  I  had  placed  Sergeant  Boston  Corbetl 
at  a  large  crack  in  the  side  of  the  barn,  and 
he,  seeing  by  the  igniting  hay  that  Booth  was 
leveling  his  carbine  at  either  Herold  or  myself, 
fired,  to  disable  him  in  the  arm ;  but  Booth 
making  a  sudden  move,  the  aim  erred,  and 
the  bullet  struck  Booth  in  the  back  of  the 
head,  about  an  inch  below  the  spot  where  his 
shot  had  entered  the  head  of  Mr.  Lincoln. 
Booth  asked  me  by  signs  to  raise  his  hands.  I 
lifted  them  up  and  he  gasped,  "  Useless,  use- 
less !  "  We  gave  him  brandy  and  water,  but  he 
could  not  swallow  it.  I  sent  to  Port  Royal  for 
a  physician,  who  could  do  nothing  when  he 
came,  and  at  seven  o'clock  Booth  breathed 
his  last.  He  had  on  his  person  a  diary,  a  large 
bowie  knife,  two  pistols,  a  compass,  and  a  draft 
on  Canada  for  £60. 
I  took  a  saddle  blanket  off  my  horse,  and, 
borrowing  a  darning  needle  from  Miss  Garrett, 
sewed  his  body  in  it.  The  men  found  an  old 
wagon,  and  impressed  it,  with  the  negro  driver. 
The  body  was  placed  upon  it,  and  two  hours 
after  Booth's  death  1  wa  1  on  the  way  V  ■ 
Belle  Plain,  where  1  had  left  the 
I  had  relea  ed  EtoUirj  nt  him  a1 
to  have  hi    ferry-boat  ready  to  • 
the  river.    About  (,  p.  \j.   I    • 
and  found  the  captain  preparing  to  return  to 
Washington.    We  resu  hed    W  ash  nj 
a.  m.,  April  27.     I   pla<  ed  the-   1 
and  the  prisoner  Herold  on  board  the-  monitor 
Muntauk,  after  whi<  h  I  |  my  worn-out 
command  up  through  the  navy  yard  to  their 
quarters. 
The  next  morning  an  autopsy  was  held,  and 
measures  were  taken  to   identil;  !y  of 
Booth.     The  portion   of  the   neck   and  head 
through  which   the  bullet  had  passed  w. 
out,  and  is  to-day  preserved  in   the  National 
Museum  of  Anatomy  at  Washington.  'I  lie  body 
was  buried  in  a  cell  in  the  Penitentiary,  v. 
it  remained  nearly  four  years,  with  t 
of  the  other  assassins.    It  was  then  given  to 
his  friends,  and  now  lies  in  a  cemetery  in  Bal- 
timore. 
Edward  ]\  Dohi 
•6+  W  \X<\v 
THE  WINTER  FIELDS. 
WINDS  here,  and  sleet,  and  frost  that  bites  like  steel. 
The  low,  bleak  hill  rounds  under  the  low  sky. 
Naked  of  flock  and  fold  the  fallows  lie, 
Thin-streaked  with  meager  drift.    The  gusts  reveal 
By  fits  the  dim,  gray  snakes  of  fence  that  steal 
Through  the  white  dusk.    The  hill-foot  poplars  sigh. 
While  storm  and  death  with  winter  trample  by  : 
And  the  iron  fields  ring  sharp,  and  blind  lights  reel. 
Yet,  in  the  lonely  ridges,  wrenched  with  pain. 
Harsh,  solitary  hillocks,  bound  and  dumb. 
Grave  glebes,  close-lipped  beneath  the  scourge  and  chain. 
Lurks  hid  the  germ  of  ecstasy,  the  sum 
Of  life  that  waits  on  summer,  till  the  rain 
Whisper  in  April  and  the  crocus  come. 
Charles  G.  E>.  Efforts.
SANCHO    MITARRA. 
OME  years  ago  I  passed 
my  summer  vacation  in  the 
north  of  Spain,  studying 
the  battle-grounds  of  the 
last  Carlist  war.  Sketching 
^A^$l  an(^  co^ectnio  notes,  I  loi- 
r^X^^^^^WJ  tered  about  the  picturesque 
towns  which,  by  the  loss 
of  their  ancient  charters,  had  paid  so  high  a 
price  for  their  loyalty  to  Don  Carlos,  until 
eventually  I  reached  Iran,  where  I  remained 
a  week.  During  the  daytime  the  large,  low- 
studded  eating-room  of  the  inn  was  entirely 
deserted,  but  towards  evening  quite  a  number 
of  men  were  in  the  habit  of  dropping  in  singly 
or  in  groups,  and  a  few  minutes  later  the 
noise  became  deafening.  Among  these  guests 
I  noticed  especially  a  fine-looking,  rather  silent 
person,  who,  to  judge  from  the  deference  with 
which  the  others  treated  him,  must  have  been 
a  local  celebrity.  His  face  was  apparently 
cut  in  two  by  an  irregular  scar,  rather  fright- 
ful to  look  at  until  he  smiled,  when  the  ugly 
purplish  lines  seemed  to  disappear  in  the 
wrinkles  about  his  mouth.  I  was  anxious  to 
get  a  good  sketch  of  him,  but  succeeded  only 
after  many  unsatisfactory  attempts,  and  I  was 
about  to  close  my  book  when  a  young  man 
who  had  been  looking  over  my  shoulder  ex- 
claimed : 
"Ah,  Senor,  what  would  I  not  give  for  that 
portrait !  " 
••  Caballero"  I  answered,  "it  is  yours;  and 
I  esteem  the  compliment  of  your  request  so 
far  above  the  value  of  the  drawing  that  you 
must  allow  me  to  consider  myself  your  debtor." 
My  real  pay  lay  in  the  pleasure  this  answer 
gave  me,  and  I  felt  kindly  towards  the  man 
who  had  afforded  me  an  opportunity  of  mak- 
ing such  orthodox  use  of  my  Spanish. 
So  we  fell  into  conversation,  and  before 
leaving  he  handed  me  his  card,  on  which  I 
read  the  name  Simon  Munoz,  and  below,  in 
brackets,  the  word  porta.  He  was  assistant 
editor  of  the  local  paper,  knew  everybody, 
and  seemed  astonished  when,  having  told  me 
the  name  of  the  man  with  the  scar,  I  asked 
further  about  him.  "  Is  it  possible,"  he  said, 
"  that  you  have  not  heard  of  Sancho  Mitarra  ? 
In  that  case,  sir,  you  must  allow  me  to  offer 
you  a  little  sketch  which  I  have  written  about 
him,  in  exchange  for  the  portrait  which  you  so 
generously  gave  me." 
The  next  morning  the  manuscript  was 
brought  up  to  my  room  with  my  chocolate, 
and  as  a  heavy  rain  confined  me  to  the  house, 
I  translated  it  into  English.   It  was  as  follows  : 
Over  a  thousand  years  ago,  or,  to  be  more 
pedantic,  a.  d.  872,  the  Gascons,  being  un- 
able to  obtain  a  consul  from  France  and 
unwilling  to  elect  one  at  home,  sent  over  into 
Castile  for  Sancho  Garcia,  called  Sancho  Mi- 
tarra, or  the  Terrible.  As  king  of  Pampeluna 
and  Navarre  he  ruled  over  them  for  nearly 
forty  years,  gaining  great  renown  not  only  as 
a  brave  Christian  soldier  in  his  wars  against 
the  Moors,  but  as  a  wise  and  strong-handed 
ruler  at  home.  From  this  good  king  Sancho 
Mitarra  the  brass-founder  of  Irun  is  directly 
descended,  as  it  were  easy  to  prove  by  the  old 
chronicles  of  Navarre ;  but  as  he  is  a  republi- 
can on  principle,  it  gives  him  less  pleasure  to 
reflect  upon  the  distinction  of  his  ancestors 
than  upon  the  sturdiness  of  a  family  that  has 
endured  a  thousand  years  without  a  break. 
Indeed,  as  for  his  being  descended  from  a 
king,  it  seems  difficult  to  understand  how  it 
could  be  otherwise.  For,  supposing  that  San- 
cho had  been  the  only  one  in  Spain  thirty 
generations  ago,  and  that  each  of  his  descen- 
dants had  produced  but  two  children,  a  simple 
calculation  shows  that  there  should  be  one 
thousand  and  seventy-three  odd  millions  of 
these  descendants  in  the  world  to-day.  Now, 
as  the  population  of  Spain  is  less  than  twenty 
millions,  every  inhabitant  must  have  some  fif- 
ty-three or  more  claims  to  royal  ancestry  —  a 
fact  which  might  in  some  cases  account  for  the 
list  of  titles  borne  by  our  more  modest  grandees 
of  the  first  class. 
It  is  equally  indisputable  that  no  fortune, 
however  great,  could  bear  subdivision  on  such 
a  magnificent  scale ;  hence  the  poverty,  shared 
by  Sancho's  father  with  so  many  other  distant 
members  of  the  royal  family,  seems  reasonable 
enough.  This  worthy  citizen  was  by  trade  a 
fisherman,  part  owner  and  captain  of  the  Gu- 
erendiain,  a  stanch  but  ugly  vessel  belonging 
to  the  Basque  cod  fleet.  His  house  was  in 
the  oldest  quarter  of  the  town  behind  the 
church,  and  in  the  dirty  kitchen,  redolent  of 
the  mingled  perfumes  of  tar,  garlic,  and  tobacco- 
smoke,  old  Mitarra  told  strangely  incredible 
tales  of  the  "  Americas  "  beyond  the  sea.  The 
priest,  the  postmaster,  the  captain  of  the  cus- 
toms, and  a  couple  of  retired  smugglers  were 
wont  to  meet  there  at  all  hours  of  the  day  when
ABRAHAM    LINCOLN:    A    HISTORY. 
THE    CAPTURE    OF    JEFFERSON     DAVIS—  'I  HI- 
REBELLION— LINCOLN'S     FAME. 
END    OF 
BY  JOHN   G.    NICOLAY   AND   JOHN    HAY,    PRIVATE    SECRETARIES    TO    THE    PI 
THE    CAPTURE    OF    JEFFERSON    DAVIS. 
HEN  Jefferson  Davis  and 
the  remnant  of  the  Con- 
federate Cabinet,  with  the 
most  important  and  port- 
able portion  of  their  de- 
partment archives,  left 
Richmond  on  the  night 
of  April  2,  in  consequence 
of  Lee's  retreat,  they  proceeded  to  Danville, 
southwest  of  Richmond,  arriving  there  the  fol- 
lowing morning.  In  a  conference  between 
Davis  and  Lee,  in  which  the  probability  of 
abandoning  Richmond  was  discussed,  they 
had  agreed  upon  this  point  at  which  to  en- 
deavor to  unite  the  armies  of  Lee  and  Johnston, 
first  to  attack  and  beat  Sherman  and  then  re- 
turn and  defeat  Grant.  We  have  related  how 
Grant,  so  far  from  permitting  Lee  to  execute 
the  proposed  junction,  did  not  even  allow  him 
to  reach  Danville.  Lee  had  been  pressed  so 
hard  that  he  had  not  found  opportunity  to  in- 
form Davis  where  he  was  going,  and  this  ab- 
sence of  news  probably  served  to  give  Davis 
an  intimation  that  their  preconcerted  plans 
were  not  likely  to  reach  fulfillment.  Neverthe- 
less, the  rebel  President  made  a  show  of  confi- 
dence ;  rooms  were  obtained,  and,  he  says,  the 
"  different  departments  resumed  their  routine 
labors,"  though  it  may  be  doubted  whether  in 
these  labors  they  earned  the  compensation 
which  the  Confederate  States  promised  them. 
Two  days  after  his  arrival  at  Danville,  Jef- 
ferson Davis  added  one  more  to  his  many 
rhetorical  efforts  to  "fire  the  Southern  heart." 
On  the  5th  he  issued  a  proclamation,  in  which, 
maintain  your  cause  with  my  whole  heart  and  soul ; 
that  I  will  never  consent  Vj  abandon  to  the  • 
one  foot  of  the  soil  of  any  of  the  States  of  the 
federacy ;  that  Virginia — noble  State,  whose  a:, 
renown  has  been  eclipsed  by  her  »till  more  glorious 
recent  history  ;  whose  boom  has  been  bared  to  re- 
ceive the  main  shock  of  this  war;  whose  sons  and 
daughters  have  exhibited  heroism  so  sublime  as  to 
render  her  illustrious  in  all  time  to  come  — thai 
ginia,  with  the  help  of  the  people  and  by  the  bless- 
ing of  Providence,  shall  be  held  and  defended,  and 
no  peace  ever  be  made  with  the  infamous  in-... 
of  her  territory. 
If,  by  the  stress  of  numbers,  we  shall  be  compelled 
to  a  temporary  withdrawal  from  her  limits  or  those 
of  any  other  border  State,  we  will  return  until  the 
baffled  and  exhausted  enemy  shall  abandon  in  de- 
spair his  endless  and  impossible  task  of  making 
of  a  people  resolved  to  be  free.2 
In  his  book,  written  many  years  after.  1 1 
is  frank  enough  to  admit  that  this  language 
in  the  light  of  subsequent  events  may  fair. 
said  to  have   been   oversanguine.     He  prob- 
ably  very  soon   reached  this  convictior.. 
almost  before  the  ink  was  dry  on  his  procla- 
mation,  a  son   of  Governor   W  -»mg 
through  the    Federal  lines  on  a  swift  horse, 
brought  him  information  of  the  surrender  of 
Lee's  army  to  Grant.    Rumor  also  reaching 
him  that  the  Federal  cavalry  was  pushing  south- 
ward west  of  Danville,  the  Confeder 
ernment  again  hastily  packed  it-                5  into 
a  railroad  train  and  moved  to  Gk  1 
North  Carolina.     Its  reception  at  this  place 
was  cold  and  foreboding.     The  headquai 
of  the  Government  remained  on  the  train  at 
the  depot.    Only  Jefferson  Davis 
tary  Trenholm,  who  was  ill.  were  provided  with 
lodgings.    From  this  point   Davis  sent  a  de- 
after  reciting  the  late  disasters  in  as  hopeful  a    Sparxh  to  General  Johnston,  solicit::  g 
strain  as  possible,  he  broke  again  into  his  never- 
failing  grandiloquence  : 
We  have  now  entered  upon  a  new  phase  of  the 
struggle.  Relieved  from  the  necessity  of  guarding 
particular  points,  our  army  will  be  free  to  move 
from  point  to  point,  to  strike  the  enemy  in  detail 
far  from  his  base.    Let  us  but  will  it  and  we  are  free. 
Animated  by  that  confidence  in  your  spirit  and 
fortitude  which  never  yet  failed  me,  I  announce  to 
you,  fellow-countrymen,  that  it  is  my  purpose  to 
1  Copyright  by  J.  G.  Nicolay  and  John  Hay,  1SS6 
Vol.  XXXIX.  — 78.  561 
ence,  either  at  Greensboro'  or  at  the  gen- 
headquarters  :   and  in  response  to  this  re 
fohnston  came  without  dels 
arriving  there   on  the   morning   of  April    12. 
Within  an  hour  or  two  both  Generals  John- 
ston and  Beauregard  were  summoned  to  DO 
the  Confederate  President  in  a  council  or' 
-  Davis,  proclamation  ;  "  Rise  and  Fall  o(  the 
federate  Government,"  Vol.  II..  p.  I  ""■ 
All  rights  reserved.
562 
ABRAHAM  LINCOLN. 
there  being  also  present  the  members  of  the 
rebel  Cabinet,  namely :  Benjamin,  Secretary  of 
State:  Mallory,  Secretary 'of  the  Navy,  and 
Res  garij  Postmaster-General.  The  meeting  was 
held  in  a  room  some  twelve  by  sixteen  feet  in 
on  the  second  floor  of  a  small  dwelling, 
and  contained  a  bed.  a  few  chairs,  and  a  table 
with  writing-materials.1 
The  infatuation  under  which  Davis  had 
plunged  his  section  into  rebellion  against  the 
G  overnment,  pitting  the  South  with  its  disparity 
of  numbers-  and  resources  against  the  North, 
still  beset  him  in  the  hour  of  her  collapse  and 
the  agony  of  her  surrender.  He  had  figured 
out  how  the  united  armies  of  Lee  and  John- 
ston could  successively  demolish  Sherman  and 
Grant,  but  he  could  not  grasp  the  logic  of 
common  sense  that  by  the  same  rule  the  united 
armies  of  Grant  and  Sherman  would  make  short 
work  of  the  army  of  Johnston  alone  whenever 
they  could  reach  it.  The  spirit  of  obstinate  con- 
fidence with  which  he  entered  upon  the  inter- 
view may  be  best  inferred  from  the  description 
of  it  written  by  the  two  principal  actors  them- 
selves.   Davis  says  : 
I  did  not  think  we  should  despair.  We  still  had 
effective  armies  in  the  field,  and  a  vast  extent  of  rich 
and  productive  territory  both  east  and  west  of  the 
Mississippi,  whose  citizens  had  evinced  no  disposi- 
tion to  surrender.  Ample  supplies  had  been  col- 
lected in  the  railroad  depots,  and  much  still  re- 
mained to  be  placed  at  our  disposal  when  needed 
by  the  army  in  North  Carolina.  .  .  .  My  motive, 
therefore,  in  holding  an  interview  with  the  senior 
generals  of  the  army  in  North  Carolina  was  not  to 
learn  their  opinion  as  to  what  might  be  done  by 
negotiation  with  the  United  States  Government, 
but  to  derive  from  them  information  in  regard  to 
the  army  under  their  command,  and  what  it  was 
feasible  and  advisable  to  do  as  a  military  problem.3 
Johnston's  statement  shows  still  more  dis- 
tinctly how  impossible  it  was  for  Davis  to  lay 
aside  the  airs  of  dictator  : 
We  had  supposed  we  were  to  be  questioned  con- 
cerning the  military  resources  of  our  department,  in 
connection  with  the  question  of  continuing  or  ter- 
minating the  war.  But  the  President's  object  seemed 
to  be  to  give,  not  to  obtain,  information  ;  for,  ad- 
dressing the  party,  he  said  that  in  two  or  three  weeks 
he  would  have  a  large  army  in  the  field  by  bring- 
ing back  into  the  ranks  those  who  had  abandoned 
them  in  less  desperate  circumstances,  and  by  calling 
out  the  enrolled  men  whom  the  conscript  bureau 
with  its  forces  had  been  unable  to  bring  into  the 
army.  .  .  .  Neither  opinions  nor  information 
was  asked,  and  the  conference  terminated.4 
1  Frank  H.  Alfriend,  "  Life  of  Jefferson  Davis,"  p. 
623. 
'2  "  Dividing  their  free  population  between  the  two 
sections,  and  the  odds  were  six  and  a  half  millions 
against  twenty  and  a  half  millions."    [Ibid.,  p.  573.] 
3  Davis,  "  Rise  and  Fall  of  the  Confederate  Govern- 
ment," Vol.  II.,  pp.  679,  680. 
Pollard,  the  Southern  historian,  is  probably 
not  far  wrong  in  saying  that  this 
was  an  interview  of  inevitable  embarrassment  and 
pain.  The  two  generals  [Johnston  and  Beauregard] 
were  those  who  had  experienced  most  of  the  preju- 
dice and  injustice  of  the  President  ;  he  had  always 
felt  aversion  for  them,  and  it  would  have  been  an 
almost  impossible  excess  of  Christian  magnanimity 
if  they  had  not  returned  something  of  resentment 
and  coldness  to  the  man  who,  they  believed,  had 
arrogantly  domineered  over  them  and  more  than 
once  sought  their  ruin.5 
Now  when  Davis,  without  even  the  preface 
of  asking  their  opinions,  bade  these  two  men 
resuscitate  his  military  and  political  power  and 
transform  him  from  a  fugitive  to  a  commander- 
in-chief,  it  is  not  to  be  wondered  at  that  the 
interview  terminated  without  result. 
Matters  were  thus  left  in  an  awkward  situ- 
ation for  all  parties :  the  rebel  chief  had  no 
promise  of  confidence  or  support ;  the  generals 
no  authority  to  negotiate  or  surrender;  the 
Cabinet  no  excuse  to  intervene  by  advice  or 
protest  to  either  party.  This  condition  was,  how- 
ever, opportunely  relieved  by  the  arrival  during 
the  afternoon  of  the  Secretary  of  War,  Breck- 
inridge, who  was  the  first  to  bring  them  the 
official  and  undoubted  intelligence  of  the  sur- 
render of  Lee  with  his  whole  army,  of  which 
they  had  hitherto  been  informed  only  by  rumor, 
and  which  they  had  of  course  hoped  to  the 
last  moment  might  prove  unfounded.  The  fresh 
news  naturally  opened  up  another  discussion 
and  review  of  the  emergency  between  the  vari- 
ous individuals,  and  seems  at  length  to  have 
brought  them  to  a  frank  avowal  of  their  real 
feelings  to  each  other  in  private.  Johnston  and 
Beauregard,  holding  military  counsel  together, 
"  agreed  in  the  opinion  that  the  Southern  Con- 
federacy was  overthrown."6  This  opinion  John- 
ston also  repeated  to  Breckinridge  and  Mallory, 
both  of  whom,  it  would  seem,  entertained  the 
same  view.  The  absence  of  anything  like  full 
confidence  and  cordial  intimacy  between  Davis 
and  his  advisers  is  shown  by  the  fact  that  these 
two  members  of  his  Cabinet  were  unwilling  to 
tell  their  chief  the  truth  which  both  recognized, 
and  urged  upon  General  Johnston  the  duty  of 
making  the  unwelcome  suggestion  "  that  nego- 
tiations to  end  the  war  should  be  commenced." 
Breckinridge  promised  to  bring  about  an  op- 
portunity ;  and  it  was  evidently  upon  his  sug- 
gestion that  Davis  called  together  a  second 
conference  of  his  Cabinet  and  his  generals.7 
There  is  a  conflict  of  statement  as  to  when  it 
4  Johnston,    "  Narrative    of  Military   Operations," 
PP-  396,  397- 
5  Pollard,  "  Life  of  Jefferson  Davis,  with  a  Secret 
History  of  the  Confederacy,"  p.  514. 
"  Narrative  of  Military  Operations," 
6  Johnston 
P-  397- 
7  Ibid 
p.  398.
THE    CAPTUHK   OP  JP.PPPKSON   DAVIS. 
took  place.  Both  Davis  and  Mallory  in  their 
accounts  group  together  all  the  incidents  as  if 
they  occurred  at  a  single  meeting,  whirl)  Mal- 
lory places  on  the  evening  of  the  12th,  while 
Johnston's  account  mentions  the  two  separate 
meetings,  the  first  on  the  morning  of  the  12th, 
and  the  second  on  the  morning  of  the  13th; 
there  being,  however,  substantial  agreement 
between  all  as  to  the  points  discussed. 
Of  this  occasion,  so  full  of  historical  interest, 
we  fortunately  have  the  records  of  two  of  the 
participants.    General  Johnston  writes  : 
Being  desired  by  the  President  to  do  it,  we  com- 
pared the  military  forces  of  the  two  parties  to  the 
war.  Ours,  an  army  of  about  20,000  infantry  and 
artillery,  and  5000  mounted  troops ;  those  of  the 
United  States,  three  armies  that  could  be  combined 
against  ours,  which  was  insignificant  compared 
with  either  Grant's  of  180,000  men,  Sherman's  of 
1 10,000  at  least,  and  Canby's  of  60,000  —  odds  of 
17  or  18  to  1,  which  in  a  few  weeks  could  be  more 
than  doubled.  I  represented  that  under  such  cir- 
cumstances it  would  be  the  greatest  of  human  crimes 
for  us  to  attempt  to  continue  the  war;  for,  having 
neither  money  nor  credit,  nor  arms  but  those  in 
the  hands  of  our  soldiers,  nor  ammunition  but  that 
in  their  cartridge-boxes,  nor  shops  for  repairing  arms 
or  fixing  ammunition,  the  effect  of  our  keeping  the 
field  would  be,  not  to  harm  the  enemy,  but  to  com- 
plete the  devastation  of  our  country  and  ruin  of  its 
people.  I  therefore  urged  that  the  President  should 
exercise  at  once  the  only  function  of  government 
still  in  his  possession,  and  open  negotiations  for 
peace.  The  members  of  the  Cabinet  present  were 
then  desired  by  the  President  to  express  their  opinions 
on  the  important  question.  General  Breckinridge, 
Mr.  Mallory,  and  Mr.  Reagan  thought  that  the  war 
was  decided  against  us,  and  that  it  was  absolutely 
necessary  to  make  peace.  Mr.  Benjamin  expressed 
the  contrary  opinion.  The  latter  made  a  speech  for 
war  much  like  that  of  Sempronius  in  Addison's 
play.1 
Secretary  Mallory's  account  is  even  more 
full  of  realistic  vividness.  He  represents  Davis, 
after  introducing  the  dreaded  topic  by  several 
irrelevant  subjects  of  conversation,  and  coming 
finally  to  "  the  situation  of  the  country,"  as 
saying : 
"  Of  course  we  all  feel  the  magnitude  of  the  mo- 
ment. Our  late  disasters  are  terrible,  but  I  do  not 
think  we  should  regard  them  as  fatal.  I  think  we 
can  whip  the  enemy  yet,  if  our  people  will  turn  out. 
We  must  look  at  matters  calmly,  however,  and  see 
what  is  left  for  us  to  do.  Whatever  can  be  done 
must  be  done  at  once.  We  have  not  a  day  to  lose." 
A  pause  ensued,  General  Johnston  not  seeming  to 
deem  himself  expected  to  speak,  when  the  Presi- 
dent said,  "We  should  like  to  hear  your  views, 
General  Johnston."  Upon  this  the  general,  without 
preface  or  introduction, —  his  words  translating  the 
expression  which  his  face  had  worn  since  he  entered 
1  Johnston,   "  Narrative  of  Military   Operations," 
PP-  39s,  399- 
2  Alfriend,  "Life  of  Jefferson  Davis,"  pp.  623-625. 
the  room, —  said,  in  In    terse, concise,  demonstrative 
way,  as  if  seeking  to 
crowding  for  utterance  :     My  views  arc,  sir,  Uu 
people  are  tired  of  the  war,  feel  themselves  whipped, 
and   will   not    fight.     Oui 
military   r<  greatly    dim  the 
enemy's  military  power  and  resources  were  never 
greater,  and  maybe  increa  ted  to  any  le  ire  i  
• 
We  cannot  place  another  large  army  in  the  I 
and  cut  off  as  we  are  from  foreign  intercourse 
not  see  how  we  could   maintain  it  in  fighting  con- 
dition if  we  had  it.    My  men  arc  da  .g  in 
large  numbers,  and  are  taking  my  artillery  teams  to 
aid  their  escape  to  their  homes.    Since  L 
they  regard  the  war  as  at  an  end.     If  I  march  out 
of  North  Carolina,  her  people  will  leave  my  r 
It  will  be  the  same  as  I  proceed  so.th  through  South 
Carolina  and  Georgia,  and  I  shall  expect  to  retain 
no  man  beyond  the  by-road  or  cow-path  that 
to  his  house.    My  small  force  is  melting  away  like 
snow  before  the  sun,  and  I  am  hopeless  of  recruit- 
ing it.    We  may  perhaps  obtain  terms  which  we 
ought  to  accept."     The  tone  and   manner,   almost 
spiteful,  in  which  the  general  jerked  out  these  brief, 
decisive  sentences,  pausing  at  every  paragraph,  left 
no  doubt  as  to  his  own  convictions.    When  he  ceased 
speaking,  whatever  was  thought  of  his  statements  — 
and  their  importance  was  fully  understood  —  they 
elicited  neither  comment  nor  inquiry.  The  President, 
who  during  their  delivery  had   sat  with   hi> 
fixed  upon  a  scrap  of  paper  which  he  was  folding 
and   refolding  abstractedly,  and  who  had  listened 
without  a  change  of  position  or  expression,   broke 
the  silence  by  saying,  in  a  low,  even  ton 
do  you  say,  General   Beauregard?"    "I  concur  in 
all  General  Johnston  has  said,"  he  replied.    Another 
silence,  more  eloquent  of  the  full  appreciation  of  the 
condition  of  the  country  than  words  could  have  been, 
succeeded,  during  which  the  President's  m; 
unchanged.2 
Davis's  optimism   had   taken  an  obstinate 
form,  and  even   after  these  irrefutable  argu- 
ments and  stern  decisions  he  remained  uncon- 
vinced.   He  writes  that  he  "  never  expc 
a  Confederate  army  to  surrender  while  i: 
able  either  to  fight  or  to  retreat  "::i  but 
tained  only  by  the  sophomoric  eloquen* 
Mr.  Benjamin,  he  had  no  alternative.    He  in- 
quired of  Johnston  how   terms   were    to    be 
obtained  ;  to   which   the   latter  answered,  by 
negotiation    between    military    commanders, 
proposing  that  he  should  be  allowed  to  open 
such    negotiations    with    Sherman.     To    this 
Davis  consented,  and  upon  Johns!    n'ss   \ 
tion  Secretary  Mallory  took  up  a   pen  and  at 
Davis's   dictation    wrote   down   the  letter   to 
Sherman 4  which  we   have  quoted  elsewhere. 
and  the  results   of  which   have  been  related. 
The  council  of  war  over.  General  Johns 
returned   to   his   army   to  begin  neg 
with  Sherman.    On   the   following  day.  April 
14.  Davis  and  his  party,  without  waiting 
3  Davis,  "  Rise  and  Fall  of  the  Confederate  Govern- 
ment," p.  682. 
4  Alfriend,  "Life  of  Jefferson  Davis,