Savannah morning news. [volume] (Savannah) 1868-1887, 1886-07-09
STRANGE BOAST OF A TRAMP.
Claiming to be IA Son and Once the
Slave OF Junius Brutus Booth.

Slave Of Junius Brutus Booth.
From, tie NetO York Tribune.
CINCINNATI, July 4.-rhe other night,
impelled by the curiosity of an idle mo-
ment, apolice reporter went down into the
tramp room" of Hammond street police
station, where scores OF vagabonds flock
for a nights shelter. some of them with
such regularity that they have come to re-
gard the piace as their home. On bench
in one corner lay an old man who seemed
superior to his surroundings end at
tracted attention. The young man ad-
dressed him lightly with:
"HellO, old boy, what's your name?' as
he asked half dozen tramps before him.
The old man lifted his brown eyes and re-
piled:
alexander Booth"
"Any relation to John Wilkes BoothT
banteringly rejoined the other. The old
man glanced keenly at the questiOner
Then he rose to seat, put his feet down
sQuarely on the floor, Strengthened his
bent old frame and said, looking straight
intO the young mans eyes:
! Eyes; he was my brother"
The reporter dropped his hantering tone.
Here was either an item beyond his eX-
pectation, or the Vagary of liar or a
lunauc. He sat down to get what he
might OF the old mans story. The latter
was not communicative at the best and
when he found he was talking to a news
paper man he lay down again on his
bench, and saying he was tired out,
refused to talk further. But he had said
enough to prompt further effort and a
gradual unbending OF the old mans re-
serve, brought about by assiduous at
tempts toward making his acquaintance
at sundry and divers times afterward, re-
Vealed at least the outlines of his story,
which ran about as follows:
81 was born a slave in Baltimore, where
my mother was the slave and the mistress
OF Junius Brutus Booth, the actor, before
he was married, and | was his son.
grew up "A slave in his family, and ali the
neighbOrs knew | was my masters child.
After he was married and had other sons
! | was the body servant OF the bows, Edwin,
| ,Junius Brutus and John Wilkes. | was
several years older any either of them.
| was a alfgrOwn BOY when John Wilkes
was born, and was a middle-aged man
| when the war came and was given my
! freedom"
The old man spoke quietly but with as
! suranCe OF his origin, and told several
! little stories of the Booth family, and the
! childhood of the boys, of whom he spoke
| in the most respectful terms and for
| whom he seemed TO have the most pro-
| found respect. He mas always read
| everything he could ind about them, and
/ though not at all inclined to talk about
| his life and his origin, once the career Of
! Edwin Booth is mentioned, he fairly
| glOws with enthusiastic admiration for
! the talents of the man be claims as a
brother. OF John Wilkes Booth, he says
he was wllful and mpetuOus, yet frank
and generous, on the whole the best of the
bOys. OF the assassination of Lincoln and
John Wilkes Booths plotting for it, he
thankfully saws he knows nothing, as he
had not seen Wilkes for some time before
that time.
Alexander Booth is an octoroon, with
only slight traces of African blood per-
ceFJible in his proud, ciean-cut features,
apparently at least 80 years old. His
form is bent and shrunk with age and ad-
versity, for, since he was emancipated, he
has seen only hard times. His form is
slight and his hands remarkably small,
while the features are almost Grecian in
their outline and his resemblance to Ed
win Booth is SO clearly marked that it is
hard to resist a conviction that he tells
the truth when he claims to be brother.
The old man drltted into Cincinnati some
months ago. For years he had followed
the calling of deckhand on Mississippi
river steamers and came here from New
Orleans. He earns scanty and pTecari-
GUS living by picking up odd jobs OF car
rving coal, sweeping walks and the like.
His idle time, of which he has plenty,
for the ambition to do more than
enough to keep soul and body together
seems TO have departed, is spent mostly
on the leyee with mis- pine. He has no
companions, for he holds himself high
above both the negroes and the ''white
trash," as lie cOntemptuously calls them.
At night he creeus up the hill and into
the basement OF Hammond street station,
and curis himself up to sleep on a bench
in what has become known to the officers
and habitues as ''old Alexis corners"
Moving silently among the busy scenes of
a great city, he lives the life Of solitude,
wrapped in the memory of a great name
to which he knows, though unacknowl-
edged by the world about him, he has
right.