Democratic messenger. [volume] (Snow Hill, Md.) 1869-1973, 1881-07-09
PRES. LINCOLN's ASSASSINATION.
A Vivid Description of 1t by Walt
Whitman. .

vi Jne actual murQef or IfeS1deni
Lincoln, though much has been written,
probably the facts are yetvery indefinite
in most persons minds. 1 read from
my memoranda, already published, writ
ten at the time on the spot, and revised
frequently and finally since.
The day, April II, 1865, seems to
have been a pleasant one throughout the
whole land-the neral atmosphere
pheasant, too-the long storm, so fratrici-
dial, so full of blood and doubt and
gloom, over and ended at last by the
sunrise of such an absolute victory, such
an utter break of secession-we
almost doubt our own senses Early
herbage, early flowers were out. q re-
member where [ was stopping at the
time, the season being advanced, there
were many lilacs in full bloom. BY one
of those caprices that enter and give
tinge to events without being at all a
part of them, [ find myself always re-
minded of the great tragedy of that day
by the sight and odor of those bios
SONS. 1t never fails.)
But | must not dwell on accessories.
The deed hastens. The popular after
noon paper of Washington, the little
E'Ueniag Star, had spattered all over its
third page, divided among the advertise
ments in a sensational manner in hum
dred different places: "The President
and his lady will be at the theatre this
evening"" Hincoln was fond of the
theatre. I had myself seen him there
several times. l remember thinking
how funny it was that he, in some re-
of n,E
drama known to 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 gestures, foreign spirit
and flatulent TEXT.
On this occasion the theatre was
crowded, many ladies in rich and gay
costumes, officers in their uniforms,
many wen-known citizens, young folks,
the clusters of gas lights, the usual mag
netism of so many people, cheerful with
perfumes, the music of violins and flutes
and over all, and saturating all, that
vast, vague wonder, victory, the nations
victory, the triumph of the Union, fill.
ing the air, the thought, the sense, with
exhilaration more than all 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. There is a scene
in the play representing modern par
lor, in which two unprecedented Eng
lish ladies are informed by an impossi-
be Yankee that he is not a man of for
tune, and therefore undesirable for
marriage-catching gpurposes; after which,
the comments being finished, the
dramatic trio made exit, leaving the
stage free for q 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 of fact the main thing,
the actual murder, transpired with the
quiet and simplicity of any common
occurrence-the bursting of bud in
the growth of vegetation, for instance.
Through the long hum following the
stage pause with the change of posi-
tions came the muffled sound of pistol
the audience heard at. the time-and yet
q moments hush-somehow, surely a
vague, startled thrill-and then, through
the ornamented, draperied, star-striped
spaceway of the Presidents box, a sud-
| den figure, 3 man raises himself with
hands and feet, stands moment on the
railing, leaps below to the stage (dls-
tance of fourteen to fifteen feet, falls
out of his position, catching his boot
heel in a copious drapery (the American
| flag), falls on one knee, quickly RECEIVERS
himself, rises as ifnothiug had happened
he really sprains his ankle, but unfelt
then-and SO the figure, Booth, the
murderer, dressed in plain black broad
cloth, bareheaded, with full head of
glossy raven hair, and hiss eyes, like some
wild animals, flashing with light and
resolution, yet with a certain calmness.
holds. aloft in one hand large knife
walks along not much back from the
foot t-lights-turns fully towards the au-
dience his face of statuesque beauty, lit
by those basilisk eyes flashing with
desperation, perhaps with insanity
launches out in steady voice the words
Sic $en1per tgrdnniS and then
walks with neither slow nor very rapid
pace diagonally across to the back oi
the stage and disappears. Had not all
this terrible scene-making the mimic
ones silly-had it not all been rehearsed,
in blank, by Booth beforehand
A moments hush-a scream-the CRY
of murder-AIrs. Lincoln leaning out ol
the box, with ashy cheeks and lips, with
an involuntary cry, pointing to the re.
treating figure. He has killed the
President And still mo-
ments strange, incredulous suspense
and then the deluge then the mixture
of horror, noises, uncertainty-tht
sound, somewhere back, of horses
hoofs Gathering with speed-the peopl,
burst through the chairs and ratings
and break them up-that noise adds tC
4 the queerness Of the scene-there is in
extricable confusion and terror-womeI
faint-quiet, feeble persons fall and are
trampled on-many cries of agony are
heard-the broad stage suddenly fills tC
suffocation, with dense and motley
crowd like some horrible carnival-tht
audience rush upon it, at least the strong
men do-the actors and actresses are
there in their play costumes and painted
faces, with moral fright showing through
the rogue, some trembling, some il
tears-the screams and calls, confused
talk-redoubled, trebled-two or thre,
manage to pass up water from the stag,