The Kenosha telegraph. [volume] (Kenosha, Wis.) 1860-1888, 1877-01-25

"Why," said Ferguson, "Miss Keene
recognized Booth right away, but for a
time she was too frightened to know
anything"
ST think you're mistaken, Cazau-
ram" said John Thompson, ''about its
not being known that night that John
Booth was the man who fred the shot.
Ned Booth was in Boston, and sort of
q little supper was given him that same
night at the Parker House, Boston, in
room 10. was one of those present.
We were having good time, and sup
pose it was half-past IL when Ned Booth
rose with glass of champagne in his
hands to give toast. He was just rails
ing the glass to speak, when the door
opened, and boy came in with tele-
gram he handed Booth. He took it,
and saying, Excuse me a moment, put
down his glass and opened the envel-
ope. As he read his face turned white,
and uttering My God' he sank down
with his head on the table, and wept.
The telegram fell on the floor, and was
picked up and read aloud. It said
that John Wilkes Booth had shot
Abraham Lincoln at Ford's Theater
that night.
The conversation continued on, and
ran into discussion of John Booth and
his character. But no further facts were
developed.
EXTRACTS FROM WILKES BOOTHS DIARY
AFTER THE ASSASSINATION.
u Washington Cor. New York Graphic.
A correspondent of the Graphic, in
the spring, in writing of the assassina-
tion of Abraham Lincoln, attributed to
Wilkes Booth desire to revenge, in
killing the President, the death of his
friend Beale, whom Mr.. Lincoln had
failed to pardon. In the Bureau of
Military Justice is kept the diary found
on Wilkes Booth when his dead body
was captured. have been permitted to
copy some entries from this diary, and
requested to publish them in the
Graphic in refutation of the supposed
cause of his crime. This, I am told, has
never before been in print:
APRIL II. FRIDAY, THE IDEs.-Until to-day
country's wrongs. For six months we had
worked TO capture. But, our cause being al
most lost, something decisive and great must
be done. But its failure was owing to others
who did not strike for their country with a
heart. struck boldly and not as the papers
say. I walked with firm step through a
Thousand of his friends, was stopped, but
pushed on. A Colonel was at his side. l
shouted sic semper before fired. In jumping
broke my leg. Ipassed all his pickets, rode
sixty miles that night with the bone Of my leg
tearing the flesh at every jump. can never
repent it. Though we hated to kill, our coun-
try owed all her troubles to him, and God sim
ply made me the instrument of his punish
ment. the country is not what it was. This
forced Union is not what have loved. I care
not what becomes of me. T have no desire to
outlive my country. This night, before the
deed, wrote long article and left it for one
of the editors Of the National Irstelligencer, in
which fully set forth our reasons for our
proceedings. He or the South.
FRIDAY, 21.-After being hunted like dog
through swamps, woods and last night being
chased by gunboas till was forced to return.
wet, cold and starving, with every mans hand
against me, am here in despair. And why !?
For doing what Brulus was honored for-what
made Tell a hero. And yet /, for striking
down greater tyrant than they ever knew, am
looked upon as a common cut throat. My act
was purer than either of theirs. One hoped to
be great himself the other had not only his
country but his own wrongs to avenge.
hoped for no gain knew no private WI ong.
l struck for my country, and that alone. A
country groaned beneath this tyranny, and
prayed for this end; and yet now behold the
cold hand they extend to me. God cannot par
don me if / have done wrong. Yet cannot
see any wrong except in serving degenerate
people. The little, the very little, / left be-
hind to clear my name the Government will
not allow to be printed. So ends all. For my
country have given up all that makes life
sweet and holy, brought misery upon my family,
and am sure there Is NO pardon In the heavens
for me since man condemns me 30. have only
heard Of what has been done Except what
did myself), and it fills me with horror. God
try and forgive me and bless my mother. To-
night will once more try the river with the
intention to cross, though have greater de-
sire and almost mind to return to Washing
ton and in a measure clear my name, which I
feel can do. I do not repent the blow I
man. l think have done we'll, though am
abandoned with the curse of Cain upon me-
when, il the world knew my heart, that one
blow would have made me great, though did
desire no greatness Tonight / try to escape
these bloodhounds once more. Who, who
can read his fate! Gods will be done. I have
too great soul to die like criminal. Oh
may he, may he spare me that and let me die
bravely! I bless the entire world Have
never hated or wronged any one. This last
was not a wrong, unless God deems it 30, and
it's with Him to damn or bless me. And for
this brave boy Harold, with me, who often
prays eyes, before and since), with true and
sincere heart was it crime in him +? II so,
why can he pray the same? do not wish to
shed drop of blood, but must fight the
course. It's all that's left me.
Our Financial Balance.