973.7L63 
 DK28c 
 cop. 3 
 
 Kelly, Edward J. 
 
 The Crime at Ford's 
 Theater 
 
LINCOLN ROOM 
 
 UNIVERSITY OF ILLINOIS 
 LIBRARY 
 
 presented by 
 
 H arry E. and Marion D. Prat t 
 Collection 
 
The Pictute Stot 9 oft igje Assassination §f\ 
 
 Qm.ticai <?t<*t*n tt^dy ^ABRAHAM LINCOLN 
 
 THE CRIME AT FORD'S THEATER 
 
 £u £dusatd Qam25 KeLLy 
 
LINCOLN'S LAST PHOTOGRAPH 
 
 
 Photog] apii of ^resident Abraham .Linco.n by the famous portrait 
 photographer, Alexander Gardner, made at the White House on 
 April 9, 1865 — five days before the assassination. This was the last 
 occasion on which the martyr President sat for his photograph. 
 
 The photographs in this publication were obtained through the cooperation of the Lincoln 
 Museum, operated by the National Park Service, in the former Ford's Theater building in 
 Washington, D. C. Copyright, 1944, by Edward James Kelly, Action Publications, Box 483, 
 
 Alexandria, Va. 
 
TTT Y TTT T TTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTYTTTT 
 
 THE CRIME AT FORD'S THEATER 
 
 BY 
 
 Edward James Kelly 
 
 TTTTTTT Y TTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT Y TTTTTTTTTTT Y TTTTTT 
 
 THE fourteenth of April, 1865, broke upon the Washington scene as an ideal 
 spring day, warm, bright, peaceful — and nature beamed upon a National 
 Capital crowded with blithe spirits, overjoyed at the turn of events which had 
 brought to a sudden and dramatic end four years of bloody, desperate civil 
 war. A war that had pitted brother against brother, turned friend to foe an<3 
 had stripped the nation of its youth, its resources and its power. Now Rich- 
 mond had fallen. In a farm home at Appomattox Court House, Lee had 
 offered his sword to Grant in surrender. Gray-clad, wearied Confederate 
 troops plodded homeward at last and the buoyant boys in blue were visioning 
 through victor's eyes the birth of a new and brighter day. Abraham Lincoln's 
 pledge of forgiveness and fair treatment for the defeated South offered hope 
 to an exhausted people and drew the applause of a nation anxious to forget 
 the bitterness of sanguinary strife. Tonight, President Lincoln would enter 
 his carriage to drive along the rutted, cobblestoned Washington streets, smil- 
 ing and doffing his stove-pipe hat to his merrymaking countrymen, on his way 
 to Ford's Treater where he would participate in the gay spirit of the victory 
 celebration by attending a performance of Tom Taylor's comedy hit, "Our 
 American Cousin," starring the popular actress, Laura Keene. 
 
 On street corners, in hotel lobbies, in taverns and in homes, the good 
 humor of the victory-flushed population matched the exuberant spirit of the 
 glorious spring day — but in the shadows created by the very light which 
 bathed the gay scene, crouched tragedy. 
 
 April 14, 1865, was destined to be an ominous day in American History. 
 
 The reception in the East Room of the White House following Lincoln's Second Inauguration, 
 
 in March 1865, was the last large scale social event in the Executive Mansion before the 
 
 assassination of the Emancipator. 
 
JOHN WILKES BOOTH— 
 
 did not occupy his 
 comfortable bed in 
 the fashionable Na- 
 tional Hotel, at 
 Pennsylvania 
 avenue and Sixth 
 street, on the night 
 of April 13. Nei- 
 ther was he seen at 
 the bar of Peter 
 Taltavul's "Star 
 Tavern," next to 
 Ford's Theater, 
 where he was 
 known as a man 
 who could carry his 
 liquor — as much as 
 two quarts of it in 
 a single night's 
 drinking. Which of 
 the shadows hid the 
 demoniacal move- 
 ments of the man 
 who cast himself in 
 the role of the vil- 
 lain in the arch 
 tragedy of his own 
 authorship, that 
 night, remains a 
 mystery. 
 
 Perhaps he 
 sought the compan- 
 ionship of one of 
 the legion of lovely 
 ladies who cast 
 themselves at the feet of the handsome actor, scion of a famous theatrical fam- 
 ily and idol of the American stage. Perhaps he was driven by conscience away 
 from the scene of his contemplated crime, or perhaps he sought seclusion in a 
 secret retreat where he could rehearse the part — or hold a secret rendezvous 
 with hate, consumed by the fury which the sight of Union soldiers, drunk with 
 triumph and cheap whiskey engendered in his resentful brain against the one 
 man whom he held to be personally responsible for the fate of the South. 
 Certainly he had not emerged from the mood which had overtaken him two 
 days before as he listened to Lincoln express the hope that the freed slaves of 
 Louisiana would be given the right to vote — words which sent him rushing 
 from the White House grounds, angrily muttering : 
 
 "That means nigger citizenship. Now, by God, I'll put him through!" 
 
BOOTH'S ACCOMPLICES 
 
 Booth's accomplices constituted a strange band of gallowsmates. Like 
 characters in a play, these unrelated personages were drawn together by the 
 sinister planning of the master schemer. Illiterates and professionals, des- 
 peradoes and devoutly religious individuals, mercenary thugs and loyal life- 
 time friends made up the personae dramatis of the fiction-like plot which the 
 fiendish thespian conceived 
 to take the life of the great 
 humanitarian President. 
 
 Above: David E. (Davy) Herold — drug clerk 
 — weak, but faithful. He believed Booth's 
 
 promise of a glorious future. 
 
 Left: Lewis Payne — fierce, powerful, fearless. 
 
 A Confederate deserter whose loyalty Booth 
 
 had purchased with food and drink. 
 
George Atzerodt, country boatman and 
 
 carriage maker. A drunkard and 
 
 coward — but Booth believed him to 
 
 be useful. 
 
 John Surratt, son of Mary, — a highly suc- 
 cessful Confederate courier and blockade 
 runner. 
 
 Michael O'Laughlin (left), and Samuel Arnold (right), companions of Booth's 
 
 boyhood days in Baltimore. Faithful friends of the assassin, but of questionable 
 
 value in the desperate business ahead. 
 
Dr. Samuel A. Mudd, Maryland country phy- 
 sician who believed in the South — and could 
 help in an emergency. 
 
 Ed Spangler, stagehand at Ford's Theate: 
 
 — who could be prevailed upon to perforn 
 
 an essential service. 
 
 This was the group that John 
 Wilkes Booth had rehearsed for an- 
 other crime — planned earlier — to 
 abduct President Lincoln and spirit 
 him off to the South via the South- 
 ern Maryland-Virginia route that 
 Booth later used in his escape at- 
 tempt. The actor and his helpers 
 believed that the President could be 
 held for the ransom of surrender. 
 This ludicrous plot was upset by 
 Grant's crushing defeat of the Con- 
 federates in the Virginia campaign, 
 climaxed by Lee's surrender. 
 
 "Now, by God, I'll put him 
 through!" — only murder would sat- 
 isfy the mad tragedian now. 
 
 Mary Surratt, devoutly religious widow, 
 
 but imbued with an undying loyalty to the 
 
 Confederate Cause and an invaluable, if an 
 
 unknowing accomplice. 
 
BOOTH'S MURDER PLOT 
 
 ALSO LISTED THREE 
 
 OTHERS AS VICTIMS 
 
 Booth's pattern for the night of 
 April 14 prescribed wholesale murder. 
 Atzerodt would kill Vice President 
 Johnson; Payne would assassinate 
 Secretary of State Seward; the debo- 
 naire Suratt would take the life of the 
 man who had brought victory to the 
 Union forces in the field, General U. S. 
 Grant. The actor, himself, would play 
 the stellar role and climax the diaboli- 
 cal plot by murdering the President. 
 
 Secy, of State Seward, confined to his bed at 
 his 16th street residence, was set upon by the 
 vicious Payne with a dagger and left for dead, 
 but made a miraculous recovery, the bandages 
 for injuries previously sustained saving his 
 life. Payne's pistol had jammed as he fired at 
 a servant who tried to restrain him. 
 
 Gen. U. S. Grant had been invited to attend 
 the theater as a member of the President's 
 party, but declined and started for New York 
 by rail. Surratt boarded the train, but word 
 of the shooting of Lincoln caused Grant to 
 leave the train at Baltimore to return to 
 Washington — probably saving his life. 
 
 Vice President Andrew Johnson slept peace- 
 fully in his room at the old Kirkwood house, 
 unaware of the plot to take his life. Atzerodt. 
 to whom the deed was trusted, drank until 
 stupefied, but could not muster the courage to 
 undertake the murderous task assigned to him 
 by the villainous John Wilkes Booth. 
 
PREMONITIONS OF VIOLENT DEATH 
 
 What thoughts were 
 unfolding within the great 
 mind of Abraham Lincoln, 
 masked by the bewhiskered 
 face that smiled to the 
 sidewalk loungers as his 
 carriage jostled over the 
 pot holes of the ill-paved 
 Washington streets on its 
 eight block journey from 
 the White House to Ford's 
 Theater? Did he brood 
 over Grant's late decision 
 to leave the city, or the 
 declinations of other high 
 ranking army officers and 
 cabinet members to the in- 
 vitation to accompany the 
 President and Mrs. Lincoln 
 to the theater? Did he feel 
 a personal slight to his 
 prestige as President or 
 smart a.t an affront to his 
 wife, Mary Todd Lincoln, 
 — or was he even thinking 
 of the unusual combination 
 of circumstances which had 
 led him to urge young Ma- 
 jor Henry R. Rathbone and 
 his fiancee, Clara Harris, 
 to accompany him and 
 Mrs. Lincoln? Were his 
 thoughts of the would-be 
 assassin's bullet that 
 
 passed through his hat and narrowly missed killing him as he drove to the 
 Soldier's Home on a summer night, or was he recounting the strange dream in 
 which he found himself attending his own funeral in the White House? Had 
 he overcome the constant inward feeling that sudden, violent death would one 
 day overtake him — or did he feel the imminence of that moment a few brief 
 minutes earlier when he spoke his belief that there were "men who would take 
 my life," and bade a solemn "good-bye" to officer Crook as he left the W'hite 
 House for Ford's Theater? Contrasting moods of exhilarating optimism 
 and deep melancholy had gripped the President on this fateful day; a cir- 
 cumstance which had caused Mrs. Lincoln to remark with undisguised appre- 
 hension : 
 
 "I have seen you like this only once before— it was just before our dear 
 Willie died!" 
 
 9 
 
 MARY TODD LINCOLN 
 
FORD'S THEATRE 
 
 The mystery that shrouded Booth's movements 
 on the previous night did not prevail on Friday, 
 April 14,— Good Friday! At 9:30 o'clock the ac- 
 tor was at his barber's for his morning shave; the 
 day, which seemed all too short for his many activi- 
 ties, found him calling on his accomplices, detailing 
 instructions for his well-mapped plans, attending 
 a rehearsal of the play at Ford's, to clock the very 
 moment for the murder, arranging for access to the 
 stage box, engaging horses for the escape, hiring a 
 lackey to hold his horse in readiness for the dash to 
 liberty — and joining the hangers-on at Taltavul's 
 bar for brandy and soda at frequent intervals. 
 
 Strong drink was the devil's fuel that powered 
 the machiavellian brain of John Wilkes Booth and 
 drove him relentlessly toward his murderous goal. 
 
 Friday Evoning, April 14th, 1865 
 
 BENEFIT! 
 
 LAST NIGHT 
 
 . 
 
 mr. john morr 
 
 MR. HAKKY HAWK. 
 TCM TAV10ES CELEf RATED EOTNTmC MMSD?, 
 
 * CHJR AMERICAN ' 
 
 COUSIN 
 
 The Comedy was in progress when Lincoln arrived at Ford's Theater, 10th St. between E & F, 
 and the laughter of the gay audience greeted his entrance. Soon tragedy would strike this 
 sceno and tomorrow Ford's Theater would be draped in mourning for the beloved martyr 
 
 President. 
 
 10 
 
■■ 
 
 
 Booth timed his entrance at a moment 
 when only one actor would be on the 
 stage. The officer assigned to guard the 
 President's box (No. 7), was mysteriously 
 absent from his post as Booth entered 
 without being noticed at 10 :22 p.m., went 
 directly to the box and barred the door 
 from within to prevent interference. En- 
 grossed in the play, none in the Presi- 
 dent's party observed the intruder. 
 
 (Dotted line indicates movements of 
 Booth from the time he entered the theater 
 until his escape.) — » - 
 
 The President was seated in t\ua 
 
 rocker, especially provided for him 
 
 in the box at Ford's Theater, when 
 
 he was shot. 
 
 The Presidential party was seated 
 in a "stage box," directly above the 
 stage on the south side of the the- 
 ater. The American flag and the 
 colors of the "Treasury Guard" 
 decorated the box. 
 
 \ /?2t> £ *mrrxccai£> 
 
 io™ street n.w. 
 
 Plan 
 of Ford's Theater 
 
 11 
 
THE ASSASSINATION AND ESCAPE 
 
 ■■■■■■HHHMI 
 
 Stealthily approaching the President from behind, Booth pressed his 
 small, single-shot Deringer pistol close to the base of the Emancipator's 
 skull and fired the shot which brought an end to the life of Abraham Lincoln. 
 Major Rathbone sprang at the assailant, but was slashed savagely on his 
 
 left arm by the 
 
 
 ■<A 
 
 >'" 
 
 Booth had car- 
 ried for use in 
 such an emer- 
 gency. ( From a 
 Currier and Ives 
 print.) 
 
 As Booth 
 leaped to the 
 stage, the spur of 
 his right riding 
 boot caught in the 
 colors of the 
 Treasury Guard, 
 throwing him off 
 balance. (From a 
 sketch by Albert 
 Berghaus, Frank 
 Leslie's Illustrat- 
 ed Newspaper, 
 May 6, 1865.) 
 
 12 
 
The accidental 
 snagging of the col- 
 ors by Booth's spur, 
 threw the killer awk- 
 wardly to the stage, 
 the force of his off- 
 balance landing frac- 
 turing a bone in his 
 left leg. (From a 
 sketch in Harper's 
 Weekly, April 29, 
 1865.) 
 
 i % % r 
 
 HR 
 
 Pi ir 
 
 
 T 
 
 i i 
 
 
 Ever the actor, 
 — Booth paused dra- 
 matically at mid- 
 stage to face his 
 startled audience and 
 climax the scene he 
 had carefuly planned 
 by brandishing the bloody dagger with which he had slashed Major Rathbone 
 and exclaiming: "Sic semper tyrannis" (ever thus to tyrants), motto of the 
 Commonwealth of Virginia. 
 
 As a member of the audience started to climb over the footlights in pur- 
 suit of the assassin, Booth resumed flight, leaving the theater by the stage 
 door. (Drawing by Albert Berghaus, Frank Leslie's Illustrated Newspaper, 
 May 20, 1865.) 
 
 
 13 
 
Through an arrangement with the stage manager and property man, 
 Edward Spangler, long time admirer of the actor, the bay mare which Booth 
 had rented from Pumphrey's stable, at Sixth and D Sts., was held saddled 
 and waiting by an unwitting ally — "Peanuts John," chore boy at Ford's 
 Theater. Rushing from the stage door a few paces ahead of his would be 
 captor, the murderer brushed aside the startled flunky, leaped upon his horse 
 and galloped through the alley leading to F Street. (Sketch from Frank 
 Leslie's Illustrated Newspaper, May 13, 1865.) 
 
 Meantime, in the theater all was confusion. As the awful realization of 
 what had occurred dawned upon the startled audience, panic seized the 3,000 
 persons who had heard the single shot that changed the course of American 
 history ; the awesome echo of which will haunt the centuries. It was the single 
 shot that loosed frenzy and carpetbaggery upon an innocent South, and 
 divided a Nation more than all the fury and desolation of four years of war 
 had divided it. 
 
 tfcf^;V, fjy ■ au; 
 
 THE SINGLE SHOT DERINGER PISTOL WITH WHICH BOOTH KILLED ABRAHAM LIN COT, M 
 
 14 
 
The Sentry at the 1 
 Navy Yard Bridge, Sgt. 
 Silas T. Cobb, halted 
 Booth, who posed as a 
 Maryland planter from 
 "near Beantown." He was permitted 
 to pass despite the fact that the Sen- 
 try was under order to close the bridge 
 at 9 :00 p.m. A few minutes later, Davy Herold, 
 who fled to safety as Payne was knifing Seward 
 — leaving that desperado, a stranger in Wash- 
 ington, to shift for himself — also crossed this 
 bridge. 
 
 In Seward's home, Payne had broken his 
 pistol on son Frederick's head, slashed two male 
 nurses and daggered the Secretary of State in 
 his bed. Herold, waiting to guide Payne from 
 the city, fled when a servant screamed for the 
 police. 
 
 Booth fled the scene of his crime at breakneck 
 speed. An accomplished horseman, he spurred his 
 mount at dead gallop — east on F Street to Ninth St. ; 
 South on Ninth to E St.; east through Judiciary 
 square to Fourth St. ; south on Fourth Street to Indi- 
 ana Ave.; southeast on Indiana Ave., to B St.; east 
 on B St. to the U. S. Capitol 
 Grounds; south and east 
 through the Capitol Grounds 
 to Pennsylvania Ave. S. E.; 
 southeast on Pennsylvania 
 Ave. to Eleventh St.; 
 east on Eleventh Street 
 to the Navy Yard 
 Bridge. 
 
 THE NAVY YARD BRIDGE ACROSS THE ANACOSTIA RIVER 1865 
 
 15 
 
The dying 1 President was 
 carried across the street to the 
 Petersen residence at 516 10th 
 Street, where he was placed in 
 the small downstairs bedchamber 
 of a dislodged roomer. Despite 
 the serious nature of his wound, 
 which army surgeons said would 
 kill an ordinary man in two 
 hours, Lincoln lived through the 
 tragic night, breathing his last at 
 7 :22 a.m., on April 15. His son, 
 Robert, was at his bedside and 
 Mrs. Lincoln sobbed distressfully 
 from an adjoining parlor where 
 she had kept the night long vigil, 
 as Secretary of War Stanton 
 closed the Emancipator's eyes 
 with the grief inspired state- 
 ment : 
 
 "Now he belongs to the ages." 
 
 The Petersen House at 516 10th St., 
 where Abraham Lincoln died. 
 
 16 
 
THE FLAG THAT TRIPPED LINCOLN'S ASSASSIN 
 
 Colors of the U. S. 
 Treasury Guard 
 which draped the 
 President's hox at 
 Ford's Theater, 
 showing the rent 
 caused by Booth's 
 spur. 
 
 Official War De- 
 partment Bulle- 
 tins announcing 
 shooting and 
 death of Abraham 
 Lincoln. 
 
 
 / 
 
 <S/U*JL*^S .>;:</, 
 
 a / 
 
 
 '^4Cfft*<&£/' MfftS <&>C-£f /ft4£//Ct.JL£Js*f 
 
 Z&erf 
 
 S * &.^/€t&//"~ 
 
 y. 
 
 
 %sjA^*S™-~ @MsSs, 
 
 
 
 7 
 
 
 
 
 17 
 
: :~^" t .-:.:,m^. 
 
 MILL'S MASK OF ABRAHAM LINCOLN 
 
 18 
 
THE DEATH OF ABRAHAM LINCOLN 
 
 As chaos, confusion and despair gripped the Nation, Abraham Lincoln, 
 Sixteenth President of the United States, Savior of the Union, Emancipator 
 of Slaves and defender of the Government "Of, By and For the People," 
 passed peacefully to his reward. Members of his family, the Cabinet, high 
 ranking army officers, physicians and clergymen awaited the inevitable end. 
 
 Left to right: (Seated) Dr. R. K. Stone; Hon. H. M. McCullough, Secy, of the Treasury; 
 Surgeon General Barnes; Hon. Gideon Welles, Secty. of the Navy; John Hay, Private Secre- 
 tary to the President. (Bending over the President) Assistant Surgeon General Crane; Capt. 
 Robert Lincoln, the President's son. (Standing) Schuyler Colfax, Maunsel B. Field, Gen. 
 Meigs, Gen. Augur, J. P. Ushur, Secty. of the Interior; Governor Farwell (Wisconsin), 
 Charles Sumner, Dr. Leale, Gen. Halleck, Judge D. K. Cartter, Post Master General Denison. 
 W. T. Otto, Rufus Andrews, Gen. Todd, Secreta: y of War Edwin M. Stanton. 
 
 Burial of Abraham Lincoln at Springfield, 111., May 4, 1865. 
 19 
 
JME FL 
 
 IGHT 
 
 Herold overtook Booth enroute to Sur- 
 rattsville (now Clinton, Md.), reporting that 
 Payne had been captured. At the tavern 
 operated by John Lloyd in Mrs. Surratt's 
 house (above), they obtained the carbines, 
 blankets and whisky previously cached there 
 through the help of the Surratts — and hur- 
 ried on to Dr. Mudd's house, near Bryan- 
 town. Booth's injured leg already was giv- 
 ing him much pain and 
 interfered with his rid- 
 ing. 
 
 Arriving at Dr. 
 Mudd's at daybreak, 
 Apr. 15, Booth, don- 
 ning a stage beard for 
 disguise, sought aid for 
 his injured leg. Dr. 
 Mudd cut the boot from 
 the assassin's swollen 
 left leg and bandaged 
 it with home made 
 splints. Booth was put to bed in the room indicated by the front second 
 story window, as Herold and Mudd scoured the countryside in a vain search 
 for a carriage in which the flight might be continued. Learning that Federal 
 troops had reached nearby Bryantown, however, Booth and Herold departed 
 hastily, by foot and horseback. Booth used a pair of crude crutches made 
 for him by Dr. Mudd's colored servant who later gave the information to the 
 Federal investigators that led to his master's arrest as an accomplice of the 
 President's murderer. The full extent of the part taken by the country 
 doctor has never been fully explained, and there is some doubt as to whether 
 or not Mudd knew that Booth had killed Lincoln when he set his broken leg. 
 There is little doubt, however, that Mudd recognized his patient, and his con- 
 nection with the thwarted plot to kidnap Lincoln has been established to the 
 satisfaction of most historians. 
 
 20 
 
Following an abandoned wagon trail 
 through the pest-ridden Zekiah Swamp of 
 Charles County, Md., Booth and Herold 
 sought to evade the Federal Troops who 
 had picked up the hot trail and were 
 swarming over the Southern Maryland 
 roads and countryside. Hopelessly lost, 
 hungry and suffering great distress from 
 his injured leg— Booth finally bribed a 
 frightened negro, Oswald Swan, to direct 
 him to the home of Samuel Cox, wealthy 
 former slave-holder and Southern sym- 
 pathizer. 
 
 The fugitives arrived at Samuel Cox's 
 
 . *4 
 
 , « 
 
 r 
 
 home, "Rich Hill," at 4:00 o'clock on the morning 
 of April 16. 
 
 Cox — fearing the consequences of harboring 
 
 Lincoln's assassin, refused Booth the shelter of his 
 
 home, but provided sanctuary in a secluded cluster 
 
 of pine trees, supplied food and blankets, and sent 
 
 his foster brother, Thomas A. Jones, riverman 
 
 fS and blockade runner, to arrange for their passage 
 
 » / ~ * j across the Potomac. Chilled, suffering and in con- 
 
 f stant danger of capture, the fugitives were im- 
 
 MP M"^*p'* ^ patient to start across the Potomac. Jones (left), 
 
 ■ ^Jtm! l0yal t0 his trUst ' turned a cold ear to a Federal 
 
 ■ \ "^0/f^m Officer's offer of $100,000 for information regard- 
 
 ^. ^m ing Booth's hideout— outwitted the searching troops 
 
 ■ Jttm JOT an d kept the fugitives supplied with food and 
 
 liquor in their cold swamp retreat from Sunday 
 morning to Friday night, when he placed them in a fishing skiff at Dent's 
 Meadow, (below), and charted for them a course from Pope's Creek, across 
 the broad Potomac, to Machadoc Creek, Va. 
 
 21 
 
Booth and Herold set forth in the 
 skiff which Booth had purchased from 
 Tom Jones. The riverman had refused to 
 accept remuneration for his services, or 
 for the supplies which he had furnished 
 them, but stating that he probably never 
 would see the boat again, and would have 
 to have one to earn his living, he per- 
 mitted the actor to reimburse him for the 
 cost of the craft. A dense fog covered the 
 Potomac that night and both Booth and 
 Herold being inexperienced navigators, 
 soon lost their way while evading a 
 gun boat which was patrolling the river 
 and rowed aimlessly throughout the night, 
 Booth, now helpless and suffering intense 
 pain, was of little assistance to Herold. 
 At daybreak the accomplice recognized 
 familiar landmarks and discovered that 
 they had drifted eight miles off their 
 course and were off the property of Colo- 
 nel John J. Hughes on Nanjemoy Creek, 
 
 Md. Ccl. Hughes was sympathetic, gave the fugitives food and drink, and 
 permitted them to remain hidden on his property until nightfall, when they 
 again set out, this time succeeding in reaching the cottage of Mrs. Quesen- 
 berry, to whom they had been directed by Tom Jones, at Machadoc Creek, Va. 
 
 Drawn by pain, in deep despair and with his faith in the belief that the 
 southern people would understand and welcome him — even if he were success- 
 ful in reaching the South — waning, Booth made this entry in his diary : 
 
 ^ 
 
 A*, 
 
 ■71 
 
 fc 4 .. ..<,« . / &»£m* i* 
 
 - y a+^Jm* $*~~& ** 
 
 ,*A4Km4 jj**-«*»»tt.> 
 
 /^ HJJ Mka ! 
 
 Tf. 6^U^# <U**~*jfi tf~- 
 
 
 1= IttXt 'i*fd~»4 if*ur. $*« 
 
 1 ii*jM*T» "w. *J } at*—- 
 
 X '•'•- " : *' *1*V /a*-«»^7 
 
 I :■■.-.:> ; . /.. fjf >•*, fU -- 
 
 J^jM^,.,.,.,,^ ;.- 
 
 At,, 
 
 . . j ./it 
 
 
 
 —t 
 
 ^*w~~ *■* ***** ***. fc*^ I 
 
 The entries were written on April 21. Booth disregarded the dates on the diary pages. 
 
THE STATEMENT FROM BOOTH'S DIARY 
 
 Friday 21 
 "After being hunted like a dog through swamps, woods, and last 
 night being chased by gunboats till I was forced to return wet, cold, 
 and starving, with every man's hand against me, I am here in despair 
 and why ? For doing what Brutus was honored for — what made Tell a 
 hero. And yet I, for striking down a greater tyrant than they ever 
 knew, am looked upon as a common cutthroat. My action was purer 
 than either of theirs. One hoped to be great. The other had not only 
 his country's, but his own, wrongs to avenge. I hope for no gain. I 
 knew no private wrong. I struck for my country and that alone. A 
 country that groaned beneath this tyranny, and prayed for this end, 
 and yet now behold the cold hand they extend me. God cannot pardon 
 me if I have done wrong. Yet I cannot see my wrong, except in serving 
 a degenerate people. The little, the very little, I left behind to clear my 
 name, the government will not allow to be printed. So ends all. For 
 my country I have given up all that makes life sweet and holy, brought 
 misery upon my family, and am sure there is no pardon in the Heaven 
 for me, since man condemns me so. I have only heard of what has been 
 done (except what I did myself), and it fills me with horror. God, try 
 and forgive me, and bless my mother. Tonight I will once more try the 
 river with the intent to cross. Though I have a greater desire and al- 
 most a mind to return to Washington, and in a measure clear my name 
 — which I feel I can do. I do not repent the blow I struck. I may 
 before my God, but not to man. I think I have done well. Though I am 
 abandoned, with the curse of Cain upon me, when, if the world knew 
 my heart, that one blow would have made me great, though I did desire 
 no greatness. 
 
 "Tonight I try to escape these bloodhounds once more. Who, who 
 can read his fate? God's will be done. I have too great a soul to die 
 like a criminal. Oh, may He, may He spare me that, and let me die 
 bravely. 
 
 "I bless the entire world. Have never hated or wronged anyone. 
 This last was not a wrong, unless God deems it so, and it's with Him to 
 damn or bless me. As for this brave boy with me, who often prays 
 (yes, before and since) with a true and sincere heart — was it crime in 
 him? If so, why can he pray the same? 
 
 "I do not wish to shed a drop of blood, but 'I must fight the course.' 
 'Tis all that's left to me." 
 
 23 
 
#JV . 
 
 The Quesenbe rry t 
 House, Machadoc r 
 ( reek, Va. 
 
 
 The advent of daylight forced Booth and Herold to put in at Gambo 
 Creek, three miles from Machadoc Creek on the Virginia shore. Booth re- 
 mained at the landing place while Herold made his way to Mrs. Quesenberry's 
 house. The old lady feared the consequences of aiding the murderer of 
 
 President Lincoln and ordered 
 Herold from the premises. Later 
 she sent food to the pair by 
 Thomas Harbin, step-brother of 
 Tom Jones, who also arranged for 
 a neighbor, "old man Bryant," to 
 furnish horses for the next stage 
 of their journey which took them 
 to the residence of Dr. Richard 
 Stewart, to whom they had been 
 referred by Dr. Mudd. Harbin 
 also provided a quantity of whis- 
 ky and both Booth and Herold 
 were slightly intoxicated when 
 they arrived at the Stewart House. 
 
 War Department, Washington, April 20, 4865. 
 
 '»$1 00,000 REW ARD! 
 
 THE MURDERER 
 
 Of our late beloved President, Abraham Lincoln, 
 IS STILL AT LARCE. 
 
 $50,000 REWARD 
 
 W113 b« ymi& bv tim I>«ufcj*ine»t for hU »j>pr*h*8*«m, in addition to *ny nwr*r<l offla-wi by 
 Municipal Author^** or ffi*t* ftieoutm*. 
 
 $25,000 REWARD 
 
 WUt be p»i<l for tto •pprakieouao of JOHK H 8DERAT, o»« at Booth'. Imermptjo™ 
 
 $25,000 REWARD 
 
 innn ML fflrAOTOK. Secretary »f War. 
 
 Stewart refused to treat 
 Booth, or to accommodate the pair 
 and directed Bryant to take them 
 to the home of the negro, William 
 Lucas. Booth was furious at this 
 treatment and considered that he 
 had been grossly insulted. Leav- 
 ing Stewart's house he cursed and 
 reviled the doctor, a loyal Con- 
 federate, but one who could not 
 condone the cowardly murder of 
 the President. 
 
 24 
 
Booth and 
 Herold were 
 drunk when they 
 arrived at the Lu- 
 cas cabin. They 
 brushed the old 
 negro aside when 
 he sought to re- 
 strain them from 
 entering his home, 
 protesting that 
 the house consist- 
 ed of only one 
 room and that his 
 wife was ill. 
 Booth intimidated 
 the negroes with a 
 knife, forced Lu- 
 cas to serve him 
 
 more whisky and at daybreak, ordered the terror stricken old man to hitch 
 up a team to an old farm wagon to carry Booth and Herold to Port Conway, 
 on the Rappahannock River. Lucas' son drove the fugitives to Port Conway, 
 but refused to go any further and left them there to await the ferryboat. 
 
 The effects of the liquor had worn away by the time Port Conway was 
 reached and Booth, who had been severely jostled in the rickety wagon, travel- 
 ling over the rough country roads, was in great distress, running a high fever 
 and rapidly growing too weak to continue the flight. Only the fear of capture 
 urged him to go on. 
 
 THE LUCAS CABIN 
 
 25 
 
JOURNEY'S 
 END 
 
 The Rappa- 
 hannock ferry at 
 Port Conway was 
 stalled by the low 
 tide, and its own- 
 er, William Rol- 
 lins was indiffer- 
 ent to the pleas 
 of Booth and 
 Herold to take 
 them across in his 
 fishing boat. 
 Three Confeder- 
 ate veterans re- 
 turning to their 
 homes, W. S. Jett, 
 A. R. Bainbridge 
 and M o r t Rug- 
 gles, joined the 
 pair while wait- 
 ing for the ferry, 
 and Booth, in his 
 desperate plight, 
 made known his 
 identity in an ef- 
 fort to obtain aid. 
 With an air of 
 bravado, the as- 
 sassin flashed a revolver and exclaimed: "I am John Wilkes Booth — worth 
 $175,000 to the man who captures me." The Southern soldiers, all veterans 
 of many campaigns, informed Booth that they did not approve of his act, but 
 were not interested in "blood money," and would help him to find a hide-out. 
 Booth rode astride Ruggles' horse while crossing on the ferry to Port 
 Royal, where he was shown to the residence of the spinster, Sarah Peyton. 
 She become frightened at the pistols and dagger he was carrying and refused 
 to accommodate. him at her house. Jett then suggested that they try the home 
 of Richard H. Garrett, two and one-half miles south of Port Royal on the 
 road to Bowling Green. Booth was introduced to Garrett as a wounded Con- 
 federate soldier and Garrett, though somewhat suspicious, agreed to permit 
 the fugitives to remain at his house until Booth was in a condition to resume 
 his journey. 
 
 John Wilkes Booth was in deep despair at this stage of his flight. The 
 heroic reception he had anticipated upon his arrival in Virginia had not 
 developed and his hope for safety and protection, once he had crossed the 
 Rappahannock, had vanished. Sensing capture, he confided to Jett that he 
 expected to be taken by the Federals — but not alive, saying hopelessly : 
 "If they don't kill me— I'll kill myself." 
 
 GARRETT S HOUSE' BOOTH DIED OX THIS PORCH 
 
 26 
 
A Federal Cavalry detachment under the command of Lt. Col. E. J. 
 Conger, the Lieutenants Edward P. Doherty and L. B. Baker, reached Port 
 Conway late in the afternoon of April 25. Learning that the fugitives had 
 crossed the ferry with the Confederate veterans the day before — the troops 
 followed, and under the sharp commands of their officers, thundered over 
 the dust laden road from Port Royal to Bowling Green. Alarmed at the 
 approach of the cavalrymen, Booth and Herold plunged into the seclusion of 
 a pine thicket as the mounted men passed the Garrett farm. 
 
 Finding Jett at the home of his sweetheart in Bowling Green, Lt. Baker 
 forced him, under threat of arrest, to lead the troops back to Garrett's farm, 
 where they arrived at 2:00 a.m. Garrett's sons became frightened when the 
 Federals threatened to hang their father and revealed that the fugitives were 
 hiding in the tobacco barn. Herold surrendered upon demand, came from 
 the barn and was tied to a nearby tree, but Booth proposed that the troops 
 withdraw 20 yards and he would "shoot it out with the whole detachment." 
 Snarling and sneering, Booth employed his histrionic art and powerful voice 
 to hurl defiance at the troops. As the barn was set afire in a last attempt 
 to force his surrender, the tragedian sneered : "Well, my brave boys, you can 
 prepare a stretcher for me. One more stain on the old banner!" 
 
 Through cracks in the barn, the solitary figure, carbine held ready to 
 fire, leaning on the crude crutch, was clearly visible in the light of the flicker- 
 ing flames. Suddenly a single shot rang out and Booth fell to the floor — 
 mortally wounded. 
 
 Sketch from Harper's Weekly, May 13, 186L 
 27 
 
"GOD ALMIGHTY DIRECTED ME!" 
 
 Historians disagree as to who fired 
 the shot that killed John Wilkes Booth. 
 It is widely accepted that Sergeant 
 Boston Corbett fired upon the actor 
 in self defense as he raised his carbine 
 and drew a bead upon the cavalryman. 
 Others, with acceptable evidence to 
 substantiate their beliefs, hold that the 
 assassin was a suicide and that Cor- 
 bett's claim was a boast made for the 
 purpose of attaining prominence and 
 notoriety. Asked by his commanding 
 officer why he had fired at Booth, in 
 direct disobedience of orders, Corbett, 
 a slow witted fellow, replied : 
 
 "God Almighty directed me." 
 
 SGT. BOSTON CORBETT 
 
 Corbett was held for court martial 
 by his superiors who had hoped to bring 
 Booth back to the scene of his crime alive, 
 and wring from him the complete story 
 of the plot. Secretary of War Stanton 
 dismissed the charge against the cavalry- 
 man, however, with these words: 
 
 "The Rebel is dead— the Patriot 
 lives — he has saved us continued 
 excitement, delay and expense. 
 The Patriot is released !" 
 
 The final chapter of the life of the 
 man who killed Booth has never been 
 written. Corbett, a religious fanatic, but 
 a daring, courageous soldier, ended his 
 tempestuous career some 20 years later by 
 mysteriously disappearing. 
 
 SEOTY. OF WAK EDWIN M. STANTON 
 
FINALE 
 
 ■' r 
 
 ■>- - 
 
 The final per- 
 formance of 
 Booth was an 
 anticlimax. 
 ■ Dragged from the 
 burning barn to 
 the farmhouse 
 porch and re- 
 vived, the dying 
 man begged of 
 the soldiers : 
 "Kill me— kill 
 me." The red 
 glare of the rising 
 sun was partly 
 obscured by the 
 smoke of the 
 smoldering barn. 
 A few feet away, 
 Davy Herold, broken by the ordeal, babbled unintelligibly and incessantly. 
 
 At 15 minutes past seven o'clock on the morning of April 26, 1865 — 
 eleven days after the death of the President — John Wilkes Booth, 26, darling 
 of the matinee, murderer of Abraham Lincoln, came to the end of his ill- 
 starred life whispering feebly : 
 
 "Tell Mother I died for my country. I have done what I thought was for 
 the best, Tell mother .... tell mother . . . ." 
 
 From Frank Leslie's Illustrated Newspaper, May 13, 1865. 
 
 Contemporary sketch — source unknown. 
 21) 
 
BOOTH'S BODY 
 
 Booth's body was placed 
 aboard the Union gunboat, 
 John S. Ide, at Belle Plain, 
 Va., and later was transferred 
 to the monitor Montauk at the 
 Washington Navy Yard where 
 Surgeon General Barnes per- 
 formed an autopsy. Several 
 citizens who had known 
 Booth identified the corpse. A 
 Doctor May, who once had 
 operated upon Booth's neck, 
 recognized the scar. The 
 body was first buried under 
 a stone slab in a convict's 
 cell in the old city peniten- 
 tiary under the orders of Secretary of War Stanton who declared his deter- 
 mination that a "Confederate flag should never fly above the grave of the 
 murderer of President Abraham Lincoln." Eventually, the remains were 
 removed to the family burial plot in Baltimore, Md. 
 
 The secret disposition of Booth's body gave rise to the legend that the 
 actor was not the man shot in Garrett's barn. Soon numerous "J. Wilkes 
 Booths" appeared in the South and found the pose to be lucrative. The War 
 Department, however, never has questioned the fact that the corpse which 
 rests in Baltimore's Greenmount Cemetery is all that is left of John Wilkes 
 Booth. 
 
 Post 
 
 em examination of Booth by Gen. Bamc 
 Harper's Weekly, May 13, 1865. 
 
 The "conspirators," Herold, Payne, Mrs. Surratt, Atzerodt, O'Laughlin, 
 Arnold, Spangler and Dr. Mudd, were held for trial at the old Capitol prison. 
 The above sketch from Frank Leslie's Illustrated Newspaper, June 3, 1865, 
 depicts the courtroom in the old penitentiary building during the trial. 
 
 30 
 
CONVICTION 
 
 The Military Commission appointed to try the conspirators spent little 
 time in deliberation before finding all of the accused "guilty." Mrs. Surratt, 
 Payne, Herold and Atzerodt were sentenced to hang at the City Arsenal 
 (above). All of the others were given life imprisonment at Fort Jefferson in 
 the Dry Tortugas — a living death. John Surratt escaped to Europe, but was 
 returned some years later, tried and acquitted. Of all those enmeshed in the 
 machinations of Booth, he alone went unpunished. 
 
 The trial of Mrs. Surratt, first woman to be legally executed in the 
 United States, provoked unending controversy. Many held her to be inno- 
 cent, few believed her de- 
 gree of guilt warranted 
 hanging, but the verdict 
 remained unchanged. 
 
 A large detachment of 
 troops guarded the Capital IjpWF- • ,: WKBH0W^m 
 
 Arsenal enclosure on the 
 date set for the execution 
 of the conspirators, July 
 7, 1865. Payne, HerolJ 
 and Atzerodt climbed the 
 13 steps of the crude scaf- 
 fold in silence. Mrs. Sur- 
 ratt repeated the intoned 
 prayers of an attending 
 priest as she walked stoi- 
 cally to the platform. The 
 white hoods were adjusted 
 quickly over the heads of 
 the condemned quartette. 
 
 (Left to right — Mrs. 
 Surratt, Payne, Herold, 
 Atzerodt.) 
 
 31 
 
• 
 
 i 
 
 The trap is sprung — the bodies of Mary Eugenia 
 Surratt, Lewis Payne, David E. Herold and George 
 Atzerodt writhe in the agony of death — then hang 
 motionless in the stifling heat of a July afternoon. 
 The Crime at Ford's Theater has been expiated! 
 
UNIVERSITY OF ILLINOIS-URBANA 
 
 Q71 7L63DK28C C003 
 
 THE CRIME AT FORD'S THEATER ALEXANDRIA 
 
 3 0112 031807693