Burlington weekly free press. [volume] (Burlington, Vt.) 1866-1928, 1876-03-17
Abraham LincOln's Death.
WALT wnITMAN's ACCOUNT OF THE SCENE AT
FoRD's THEATRE.

now he would have been sixty six years old.
| Tie following vivid description of the scenes
at Ford's Theatre at the time of his assas-
snation, from forthcoming book by Walt
Whitman. has never before been publish
ed
The day, April IA, 1865, seems to have
been pleasant one throughout the whole
IL d-the moral atmosphere pleasant, too
ii . long storm, so dark. so fratricidal, iull
OF blood and doubt and gloom. over and
ended at last by the sunrise OF such an alb
solute national victory, and utter breaking
down of secession-we almost doubted our
own senses Lee had capitulated beneath
the apple tree of the Appomattox. The
other armies, the fanges Of the revolt,
swiftly followed.
And could it really be, then? Out Of all
the affairs of this world of woe and passion,
cf failure and disorder and dismay, was
there really come the confirmed. uttering
sign of peace, like a shaft of pure light
Of rightful rule-of God? But | must not
dwell on accessories. The deed hastens.
The popular afternoon paper, the little
Euening Siar, had spattered all over its
third page, divided among the advertise
ments in sensational manner in hun
dred different places - The President and
his lady will be at the theatre this even
ing" (Lincoln was fond of the theatre.
have myself seen him there several times.
| remember thinking how funny it was that
be, in some respects, the leading actor in
the greatest and stormiest drama known to
real histoIy's stage. through centuries,
should sit there and be so completely inter
ested and absorbed in those human jack
straws moving about with their silly little
gestures, foreign spirit and tatulent text
g h. Aan
Early herbage, carly flowers, were out. q
remember where | was stopping at the time,
the season being advanced, there were many
lilacs in fall bloom. By one of those Ca
prices that enter and give tinge to events
without being at all part of them, find
myself always reminded Of the great TRACE
dy Of that day by the sight and odOr Of
these blossoms Ii never fails)
ON this occasion the theatre was crowd
ed, many ladies IN rich costumes, officers in
their uniforms, many well-knOwn citizens.
young folks, the usual clusters OF gaslights,
the usual magnetism Of so many people,
/. cheerful, with perfumes. music of violins
and futes-(and over all and saturating all,
that vast vague wonder. Victory, the Ma
tons Victory, the triumph Of the Union.
filling the air, the thought. the sense, with
| exhilaration more than all periumes.)
The President came betimes, and, with
his wife, witnessed the play, from the large
stage boxes of the seLond tier. two thrown
into one. and prolusely draped with the ma
tional tag. The acts and scenes OF the
piece-one of those singulsrly witless COM
positions which have at least the merit OF
| giving entire relief 10 an audience engaged
| in mental action or business oxcitements
and cares during the day, a. it makes not
| the slightest call on either the moral, emo
tional, gesthetie. or spiritual nature-a piece
| {" Our American C0usin') in which,
among other characters. so called, Yam
| kee, certainly such a one as was never seen,
/ or the least like it ever seen in North Amer
/ lea, is introduced in England, with varied
| iol-de-rol Of talk, plot, scenery, and such
| phantasmagoria as goes TO make up mod
| ern popular drama-had progressed through
perhaps a couple OF its acts, when in the
/ midst OF this comedy, or tragedy. or non
/ such. or whatever it l. to be called. and to
affect il or finish il out as il in nature or the
great muses. mockery. of these poor mines.
comes interpolated that scene, not really or
/ exactly to be described at all (for on the
many hundred who were there 1t seems TO
this hour to have left little but passing
/ blur, a dream, blotch) and yet partially
to be described as | now proceed TO give
II.
The-e Is q scene in the play representing
a modern parlor, IN which two unprece-
/ deuted English ladies are informed by the
unprecedented and impossible Yankee that
| be Is not man of fortune, and therefore
undesirable for marriage catching purposes
after which, the comments being finished
the dramatic trio made exit. lea7ing the
stage clear for moment. There was q
pause, hush as it were. At this period
came the murder of Abraham Lincoln
Great as that was, with eli its manifold
train circling round it, and stretching into
the future for many century, in the poll
tics. piety, art, &c Of the New World. in
point Of fact the main thing, the actual
mur der transpired with the quiet and sim
/ plicity OF any commonest occurrence-the
| bursting Of bud or pod IN the growth Of
vegetation, for instance
Through the general hum tJllowing the
stage pause, with the change Of positions,
&c. came the muified sound ofs pistol shot
which not one-hundredth part OF the audi
ence heard at the time-and yet a moment 5
hush-somehow, surely a vague. startled
tbrill-and then, through the ornamented
iraperied. starred and striped spsceway OF
the Presidents boz. sudden figure, man
raises himself with his hands and feet,
stands moment on the railing, leaps be-
low to the stage Ia distance OF perhaps four
teen or fifteen feetl, falls out ot position,
catching his boot heel in the copious drap-
cry (the American dag, falls on one knee,
/ quickly recOvers himself, rises as II nothing
had happened (he really sprains his ankle.
but unielt then )-end so the figure. Booth
the murderer, dressed in PLAIN black broad
cloth, bare-headed, with full head of glcs
sy, raven hair, and his eyes, like some mad
ANIMALS, flashing with light and resolu-
tion, Vet with certain strange calmness.
holds alOft in one hand large knife-walks
I along not much back from the footlights-
turns fully toward the audience his face of
statuesQue beauty, lit By those basilisk eyes
flashing with & desperation, perhaps insani-
ty,-launches out in firm and steady voice
the words. So ScmpT tyTGRnis-and then
walks with neither slow nor very rapid pace
diagOnally across to the back Of the stage
and disappears HAD not all this terrible
scene-making The mimic ones preposter-
Ous-had it not all been rehearsed in blank :,
by Booth. beiorehand0
moments hush incredulous a scream
The cry of murder-Mrs. Lincoln leaning
out Of the box. with ashy cheeks and lips,
with involuntary cry. pointing to the re-
treating figure. " He has killed the Presi-
dent. And still moments strange, in
| credulous suspense-and the aeluge then
that mixture OF horror, noises. uncertainty
-(the sound somewhere back. of a horses
hoofs Gathering with speed the people
burst through chairs and railings and
break them up-that noise adds to the
queerness of the scene-there is ineXtrica-
bic confusion and terror-women faint
quite feeble persons fall and are trampled
on-many cries OF agony are heard-the
4 o-,ltr 81 cfrAN Noo m m
with dense and motley crowd, like some
horrible carnival-the audience rush gene
rally upon it-at least the strong men do
the actors and actresses are all there in their
play costumes and painted faces. with NOR
tai fright showing through the rouge, some
rembling--some in tears--the screams and
calls, confused talk -redoubled---two or
three manage TO pass up water from the
stage TO the Presidents box Others 20
Chamber up---&c. &c, &c.
In the midst OF all this the soldiers Of the
Presidents Guard, with others. Suddenly
drawn to the scene. burst in some 200 al
together---they storm the house, through all
the tiers, especially the upper ones, inham-
ed with fury, literally charging the audi
ence with hxed bayonets, muskets and pis-
tolls, shouting Clear out clear out -
you sons of b--,' Such the wild scene, or
suggestion of it, rather, inside the play
house that night.
Outside, too, in the atmosphere of shock
and craze, crowds of people. filled with
frenzy, ready to seize any outlet for it, came
near committing murder several times on
| innocent individuals. One such case was
especially exciting The infuriated crowd
through some chance, got started against
one man. either for words he uttered. or
perhaps without any cause at all. and were
proceeding at once to actually hang him on
a neighboring lamp post, when he was res
cued by few heroic policemen, who placed
him in their midst and fought their way
slowly and amid great peril toward the sta
ton house. 1t was a fitting episode of the
whole affair The crowd rushing and eddy
ing to and ro.--,he night. the yells, the
pale faces, many frightened people trying in
vain to extricste tbemselves--the attacked
man, net yet freed from the jaws of death,
looking like cJrpse---the silent, resolute
half dozen policemen. with no weapons but
their little clubs, yet stern and steady