Daily globe. [volume] (St. Paul, Minn.) 1878-1884, 1881-10-02
MAGGIE MITCHELL
Tells How She Saw wilkes Booth In ne
markabIe Dream ON the Night Of LIN
csin's Assassination, and Denies Another


markabIe Dream ON the Night OF LIN
celn's Assassination, and Denies Another
Romantic Story.
[Corres pondence of the Courier-JournalI
CINCINNATI, Sept. 26.-Cincinnaa Is IN tne
deepest mourning for the dead president, ana
her people move heavily as those who mourn
for their father or their mother. The SAD
habilimsnts of woe, the miles upon miles OF
sable drapery, the somber hue about every
house bring back most forcibly the times tnas
succeeded the assassination of President Lin
coin, but softsned into mellow grlef, De-
cause in this instance the death of the presi-
dent was for long time expected and ana nos
fall upon the people like thunderboit from
an unclouded sky, nor,
sLike ships that go down at SEES,
When heaven WAS all tranquility"
stunning every one with its appalling sud-
denness.
Then, the rage, the grief and madness OF the
people knew no bounds; men women ana
children seemed to cry hoarsely for vengeance,
until finally the angry, foaming waters were
appeased by the blood of poor wretched
women and few obscure men. What the
South suffered is matter of history; let 1t all
rest in oblivion and be forgotten in the new
era of good feeling among all men Mort tn ana
South.
The sight of so much black everywhere IN
this gay city recalls wondrous story related
to me away down in Texas toward the close
of the year 1866. The memory of the awful
tragedy was then fresh IN the minds OF the
people. Every word of gossip or history re-
lating to it was eagerly seized and devoured by
the gaping multitude.
The story ran in this wise: That after the
death of Wilkes Booth, while the body lay
,1pdar oy1ord ond cOvarnd with an O1d tarDau-
liam, his affianced lover, like poor wounded
thing, hiding from every human eye and fret
ting her life away in hopeless grief, suddenly
conceived the idea that there might be some
mistake, and that her lover was not dead.
She then sent for Magrie Mitchell, and be-
sought her to go to the place where the body
lay, and bring her some proof OF his identity.
The story said that the distinguished lady ap-
preached the trestle on which the body lay,
and by her wonderful fascination SO won upon
the guard that he allowed her to clip lock OF
his hair without raising the tarpaulin; that
she did so, and discovered that the lock that
was clipped was not the hair of Wilkes Booth.
Remembering all these wild stories and
many others, recalled by the sad surroundings,
I determined to go down to the Hotel Grand,
where Mrs. Maggie Mitchell Paddock is now
boarding during highly successful engage
ment in this city, and seek an interview with
the charming little lady, and ascertain the
facts aboutthis story.
I sent up my card to Mr.. and Mrs Paddock,
the Grand. Taking my seat, very soon
heard the sprightly steps of the lady, those
fairy-lke footballs that have charmed the
hearts and gladdened the sight of SO many
throughout the length and breadth OF this
land. She advanced to meet me with the
frank cordially that characterizes her. In
/ few moments we we're at ease and conversing
r ifoy hoor A Wi
pleasure her expressions of deep regard for
our city and the pleasure it always gives her
to appear before so appreciative an audience.
She is as bright and piquante as ever, and in
private is even more attractive than on the
stage. Her delicate features, bright, earnest
eyes, and those indescrlbable expressions that
play about the lips like sunbeams on roses,
are inexpressibly charming and attractive.
She has the rare power OF drawing every one
to her, and nine times out of ten every one is
willing to be drawn.
In few words I told her the old story had
heard away down in Texas, long, long ago;
and a shade of melancholy came over her
bright face as I mentioned the sad details.
She shook her head and said "There is no
John Wilkes Booth was an intimate friend OF
my family and of myself. But
was not at Washington when that
fearful tragedy occurred. l was at st.
Louis then, stopping at the Lindell hotel,
as well remember from dream, q most re-
markable dream, I had the night of the TRACE
dy. will tell it to you presently. The sto-
~ about the lock of hair must have originated
in this wise. After Johns body-we all call
ed him John-was disintered and taken to his
father's burial lot in Baltimore, Miss Annie
Ford, another intimate friend of John. was
solicited to get lock of his hair. She did so,
and with her own hands clipped from his head
little lock of his beautiful hair and gave it
to me. It was his hair Beyond a doubt. No
one ever had more beautiful hair than he.
Twas the lovliest hair in the world"
twas he very handsome and agreeable
man, Mrs. Paddock" / asked.
s.Oh, very indeed" she replied, she was a
delightful companion through his great at
taInments and intellectual superiority. He
was a splendid horseman and rode with ease
and grace. Being fond of the exercise myself,
1 was often out with him on horseback"
"Then you have no doubt that it was really
John Wilkes Booth who was killed."
asked.
ooh, dear no; not the shadow Of doubt.
It is true. The lock of hair clipped from his
head by Miss Annie Ford and given to me, L
sent TO his mother, poor woman, VINO was
grieying for his untimely end. 1t was much
as woman's life was worth in those days to
have had an intimate friendship and acquain-
ance with him, but braved all this and Sc
tured the lock of hair and gave it to his
mother"
81 will now tell you about my dream at st.
Louis the night of the tragedy, Good Friday:
I had been playing there, and was stopping at
the Lindell.
81 dreamed on that memorable night that /
saw John Wilkes Booth leap from the private
box of the president at Ford's theater to the
STAGE He was dressed, as usual, with inim-
liable taste and neatness. He wore short
Spanish cloak, lined with crimson satin. As
he leaped on to the stage from the box, hur-
riedly and excitedly, his cloak flew open and
disclosed little white poodle dog under his
arm. He ran past me and made his exit by
the door through which he did actually es-
cape after committing the horrid deed.
'sIwas telling this dream next morning to
my sister Mary and party of select friends
while eating our breakfasts. was engaged
in telling my dream, and before getting
through with the remarkable details the head
waiter came up to US with scared look on
his face.
"We were interrupted by his asking us if
we had heard the news. He then said that
President Lincoln had been shot the night
before; and in less than ten minutes we were
all electrified with the astounding news
that the assassin was John Wilkes Booth,
about whom we were talking when the
a w.:xo. 80 ;r<arr,,vfod o,,r hot Qt the