The Abbeville press and banner. [volume] (Abbeville, S.C.) 1869-1924, 1880-01-28
A St0ry Of LinoOln's Assassination.

There reposes in the trunk of William
Withers, Jr., leader of the California
theater orchestra, San Francisco, an
ancient swallow-tail coat, faded some
what with time, fragmentary in con-
dition through the clipping of pieces
from it as mementoes, yet withal a
highly interesting garment through his
torical association. The coat has two
long knife cuts in it, one in the neck
and the other near the hip, which were
received in Ford's theater ut Washing
ton, where the coat, with Mr.. Withers
inside of it, was present on the night
that President Abraham Lincoln was
assassinated. The gashes were inflicted
by the assassin, John Wilkes Booth, a
few moments after he had fired the shot
that reverberated through nation. and
the story of that night, as told by Mr.
Withers. is as follows:
The play, as you will recollect. was
"Our American Cousin" The house
was jammed from pit to dome with a
throng whose admiration and attention
were divided between the Presidential
box, where sat Mr.. and Mrs. Lincoln,
Little Tad and Major Rathbone, and
the stage, where Harry Hawk and
Laura Keene personated the leading
roles. The first two acts had pro-
ceeded without unusual interest, Presi-
dent Lincoln appearing to quietly enjoy
the performance, and finally the curtain
rose on the third act and the dairy
scene, where Trenchard was to propose
to Mag Meredith. During the interlude
had gone behind to talk with Wright,
9he prompter. l had composed song
called Honor to Our Soldiers" in
honor of the occasion, which had not
been sung at the proper time, and went
to see about it. To talk with him
where he stood I had to order Spangler,
the scene-shifter, out of the way.
I had finished my talk with Wright.
and turned down the passage which led
into the alley where Peanut John was
holding Booths horse, and which also
led to the door by which returned to
my place in the orchestra. The passage
was dark and very narrow, so much so
in fact that two men could notpass side
by side. I had traversed nearly to The
door when heard single pistol shot.
I stopped, started, and trying to think
where there was pistol fired in the
HAmerican Cousin" Then I heard n
strange murmur, and looking round l
saw Harry Hawk rapidly running up
the steps that led to his dressing room.
A second afterward l saw a man run
ming across the stage. He had jumped
from the box to the stage, on the other
side from me, but his impetus was so
great that he ran into brick wall near
me and the entrance to the passage,
putting out his hands to break the force
of the collision. Then he jumped for
the passagew"y, and Isaw his face, but
scarcely recognized Booth. His eyes
seemed starting from his head, his black
hair stood on end, and his dark. hand
some face wore such ferociOus express
sion that he did not seem like the same
man.
I was completely paraI!yzed as he
rushed into the passage and said "Get
out of my way" could not have done
so, even if l had had my presence of
mind, and in second he was on me
with a dagger he held in his right
hand. The blow struck me, g,ancing
on the hip, and made the cut you see
there. 1t turned me partly round, and
like flash struck me and knocked me
headlong to the floor of the passage in
front of him. Without losing second
he jumped over me, seized the knob and
wrenched the door open, and in n sec
ond more was galloping at top speed
down the street.
All this took place in far less time
than it takes to tell it. After him, also,
jumping overue. came Stuart, the dc.
tective, and following him crowd of
people, who, taking me for an accom-
plice, arrested me and took me back to
the stage. The scene there was perfectly
indescribable. The audience, crazy
with excitement, were yelling they
knew not what. The stage and the
front part of the auditorium were JAM
med with people, some asking the cause
and others crying Lynch him, Hang
him." though who the assassin was
they did not know. The lights were in
full glow, and above all could be seen
the President. senseless and white as
death, with his head partially hanging
out Of the box, while Mrs. Lincoln
bathed his forehead with water from
basinful which Laura Kcene held. The
audience became even wilder when the
truth was known, and were augmented
by the throng of breathless arrivals
from the outside, until the thehter was
so crowded that another person could
not possibly have GOT even his head in.
The President lay in his box under the
doctors care for long time, and was
finally removed, through the greatest
crowd that ever gathered in Washing
ton, to the clearinghouse across the
street. where he died the next morning.
was taken to the police station, but
discharged as soon as the facts were
known. Spangler was arrested and con-
victed of being an accomplice, but was
afterward pardoned. The knife thrusts
did me no great injury, the first not
penct ating the skin and the second
only scratching my neck. 1 have kept
the coat, however, as = memento of the
most exciting night ever experienced.
The shirt which l wore, which was also
slashed. I gave to Harry Widmer, now
of the Baldwin, who was playing with
me at the time, and who still has it, l
believe.