The Indiana State sentinel. [volume] (Indianapolis) 1868-1895, 1879-04-23

divided councils, the call for troops the
first Bull Run, the stunning cast down
shock, and dismay of the North; and 50 in
full food the Secession war. Four years of
lurid, bleeding, mnrky, murderous war
Who paint those years, with all their scenes?
tho hard-fought engagements-the defeats,
plans, failures-the gloomy hours, days.
when our nationality seemed hung in pail
of doubt, perhaps death-the Mephistophe.
lean sneers of foreign lands and attaches
The dreaded Scylla Of European interference,
and the Charybdis of the tremendously dam
gerous latent strate of secession sympathiz-
ers throughout the Free States (far more
numerous than Ii supposedj-the long
marches in summer-the hot sweat, and
many sunstroke, as on the rush to Gettys-
burg in 'es-the night battles in the woods,
as under Hooker at Chaacellorsville "a
strange episode9-the camps in winter-the
military prisons-the hospitals-(alasI alasi
the hoepitals).
the Union war. Though whatever called, it
is even yet too near us-too vast and too
closely overshadowing-its branches I'M
formed yet (but certain), shooting too far
into the future-and the most indicative and
mightiest of them yet uHgrown.
A great literature will yet arise out of the
era of those four years, those scenes-era
COMPRISING centuries of native passion,
first class pictures, tempests of life and death
AN lnexnaustible mine for the histories,
drama, romaDce and even philosophy of
peoples to concluded, the verteber of
poetry and art (of personal character, too,
for all future America-far more grand, IN
my opinion, 20 the hands capable of it than
Homers siege of Troy or the French wars to
Shakespeare.
But must leave these speculations and
come to the theme L have assigned and linn
tied myself 10.
OF the actual murder of President Lincoln,
taar1 n rrrf. hoe hoor
the facts are yet very indefinite in most
persons minds. l read from my memoir
anda, already published, written at the time
on the spot, and revised frequently and
finally since.
The day, April IA, 1855, seems to have been a
pleasant one throughout the whole iand-the
moral atmosphere pleasant too-the long
s.ornf so dark, SO fratricidal, full of blood and
doubt and gloom, over and ended at last by the
SUNRISE of such an absolute national victory,
and utter break down of secession-we almost
flowers, were out. Il remember where Uwas
stopping ut the time, the season being adj
yanced, there were many lilacs In full bloom,
By one of those caprices that enter and give
tinge to events without being at all part of
them. find myself always reminded of the
odor of these blossoms. 1t never fails.}
But must not dwell on accessories. The
Of washington, the little Evening Star, I had
spattered all over its third page, divided
among its advertisements in sensational
manner in hundred different places, 1.-THE
president and his lady will be at the theater
this evening" (Lincoln was fond of the
times. l remember thinking how funny
1t was that he, in some respects, the leading
history's stage through centuries, should
sit there and be so completely interested and
absorbed in those human jack straws, moving
about with their silly little gestures, foreign
spirit, and fiatulent text
On this occasion the theater was crowded,
many ladies In rich and gay costumes, officers
in their uniforms MANY we'll known clfizeng
young folks, the usual clusters of gas-lights,
the usual magnetism of SO many people.
hutes-(and over all, and saturating all, that
vast vague wonder, victory, the nations VIC
tory, the triumph of the Union, filling the air,
the thought, the sense, with exhilaration
more than ali music and perfumes.)
The president came betimes, and, with his
wife, witnessed the play from the large stage
boxes Of the second tier, two thrown into one,
and profusely draped with the national flag.
modern parior, in which two unprecedented
English ladies are informed by an impossible
Yankee that he is not man of fortune, and,
therefore, undesirable for Misunderstanding
purposes; after which, the comments being
finished, the dramatic trio make their exit,
leaving the stage clear for moment. At this
period came the murder of Abraham Lincoln.
Great as that was, with all its manifold train.
circling round it, and stretching into the
future for many a century, in the politics,
history, art, etc., Of the New World, in point
Oh iaGt the nam tn thing, the actual murder
any commonest occurrence-the bursting OF a
bud or pod in the growth Of vegetation, for
instance. Through the general hum follow
ing the stage pause, with the change
of positions came the muffied sound of pistol
shot, which not one .hundredth part OF the
audience heard at the time-and yet mo-
ment's hush-somehow, surely vague startled
thrill-and then. through the ornamented,
draperied, starred and striped Spaceway of the
presidents box, sudden ngure, a man raises
himself with hands and feet, stands a moment
lance of perhaps Ii or Is feet, falls out Of his
position, catching his bsot heel In copious
drapery (the American fiag), falls on one knee,
quickly RECEIVERS himself, rses as If nothing
had happened (he really spralns his ankle, but
unfelt tEen)-and SO the figure, Booth, the
murderer, dressed in plain black broadcloth,
bare headed, with a full head of glossy, raven
hair, and his eyes like some mad animals,
flashing with light and resolution, yet with a
certain calmness, holds aloft in one hand a
large knife-walks along not much back from
the footlights-Iurnsf fully toward the audience
i lisk eyes, flashing with desperation, perhaps
insanity-Iaunches out in a firm and steady
then walks with neither slow nor very re- pid
pace diagonally across to the back OF the stage
and disappears. Had not all this
terrible scene-making the mimic ones pre-
posterous-had it not all been rehearsed, in
blank, by Booth beforehandO
A moments husT.-a scrsam-the cry of MUIR
der-Mrs. Lincoln leaning out of the box with
ashy cheeks and lips, with Involuntary cry,
pointing to the retreating figure, he has kill'd
the president And still a moments strange,
incredulous suspense-and then the deluge =
then that mixture of horror. noises, uncer-
horse hoofs clattering with speed)-the peo-
Pile burst through chairs and ratings, and
break them up-that noise adds to the queer
ness OF the scene-there is inextricable con-
fusion and terror-women fainf-quite feeble
persons fall and are trampled on-many cries
of agnoy are heard-the broad stage suddenly
fills to suffocation with a dense and motley
crowd, like some horrible carnival-the audi
ence rush generally upon it-at least the
strong men do-the actors and actresses are all
there in their play costumes and painted
faces, with mortal fright showing through
the rouge, some trembling-some in tears-the
screams and calls, confused talk-redoubled,
trebled-two or three manage to pass up water
try to Chamber up, etc.. etc.,
In the midst of all this the soldiers of the
Presidents Guard, with others, suddenly
drawn to the scene, burst ln-(some 200 alto
gether)-they storm the house, through all the
tiers, especially the upper ones, lnfiamed with
fury, literally charging the audience with
fixed bayonets, muskets and pistols, shouting
"Clear out! Clear out! you sons OF -" Such
the wild scene, or suggestion OF 1t rather, In
side the play house.