a ** I TH ill _ 5HAD0TC * OTTO EISEnSCHIML * AUTHOR OF'WHY WAS LINCOLN MURDERED?" WAS there more than one plot to kidnap or murder Lincoln? WAS Booth killed or did he escape? WAS Mrs. Surratt tortured before she was executed as a conspirator? HERE are new long-buried revelations fully substantiated by documentary evidence! on AmeAica'b molt 6o>i>iow.§ul Uaqedy* No other chapter in American history can compare in tense dramatic power with that of Lincoln's death. And no one is better qualified to write about the event than Otto Eisenschiml, as was evi- denced by the acclaim for his best-sell- ing WHY WAS LINCOLN MURDERED? Since its publication three years ago the author has delved deeper into the enig- mas that have baffled students of the Civil War period. He has found new long-buried facts about the conspiracy surrounding the assassination, new facts about the part played by Secretary Stanton and other secrets of the tragic episode. In his new work the author answers questions — for the first time — which have long been mystifying. Was there more than one plot to kidnap or murder Lincoln? Whose body was identified as that of the assassin Booth on board the gunboat Montauk? Was Booth killed, or did he escape? Was Mrs. Mary Sur- ratt, one of the alleged conspirators, tortured before she was executed? The author brings forth facts which shed fresh light on some long-neglected and amazing chapters of the Civil War era. It is the most provocative book on its subject yet written. The book is fully illustrated with many important histori- cal documents never before published. Price, $3.00 LINCOLN ROOM UNIVERSITY OF ILLINOIS LIBRARY MEMORIAL the Class of 1901 founded by HARLAN HOYT HORNER and HENRIETTA CALHOUN HORNER X. ^ /k— tf«^"~ /A #' ^Of— w-w— <^ 'jpjt-zr/ /J OTTO EISENSCHIML COPYRIGHT 1940 BY WILFRED FUNK, INC. PRINTED IN UNITED STATES OF AMERICA CONTENTS chapter i Lincoln Had Some Narrow Escapes 3 CHAPTER II VoxPop7lU 25 chapter in A Body Is Identified 33 chapter iv Did John Wilkes Booth Escape? 53 chapter v Mrs. Surratfs Boarding House 91 chapter vi Was Mrs. Surratt Tortured? 1 1 3 chapter vii The Silencing of Mrs. Surratt 127 chapter viii Behind the Scenes of the Conspiracy Trial 1 5 1 Part 1 What Counsel for the Defense Remem- bered Part 11 The Prosecution Presents Its Side Part in Two Judges Review the Case Part iv As the Court Reporters Saw It Part v Colonel Wood Speaks Out chapter ix Stanton's Reign of Terror 191 chapter x The Real Stanton 217 chapter xi The Queer Adventures of John H. Sur- ratt 235 chapter xii Storm Around Surratt 255 chapter xiii The Surratt Trial 265 Part 1 The Prosecution Part 11 The Defense Part in The Verdict chapter xiv Problems Solved and Unsolved 351 vii ILLUSTRATIONS Probable routes chosen for the abduction of President Lin- coln PAGE l 7 A page from the original manuscript of Doctor May's "The Mark of the Scalpel" facing p. 36 Photostatic copy of a portion of Doctor May's testimony on board the Mont auk 39 The Garrett Home. With barn in background as it stood in 1933 5 6 The Surra tt Tavern in 1876 facing p. 94 The former Surratt Tavern at Clinton (formerly Surratts- ville), A4aryland, 1933, rear view facing p. 94 Mrs. Surratt advertises for roomers 96 Mrs. Surratt's House in 1865 at 541 H Street, N.W., Washington, D.C. facing p. 100 Mrs. Surratt's House in 1933, now 604 H Street, N.W., Washington, D.C. facing p. 100 Photostat of Calvert's letter of April 1865, to Mrs. Sur- ratt facing p. 102 Mrs. Mary E. Surratt facing p. 114 Miss Anna Surratt facing p. 114 Father Jacob A. Walter facing p. 114 Scene at the Conspiracy Trial of 1865 facing p. 122 The Secretary of War requests that the prisoners on board the Montauk be hooded 129 Transporting the prisoners from the gunboat Montauk to the Arsenal Prison facing p. 132 An item in the New York Times of August 15, 1867 facing p. 147 Three of the Counsel for the Defense in the Conspiracy Trial facing p. 152 ix Illustrations PAGE Attorneys for the Government in the Conspiracy Trial ■facing p. 162 Three of the Military Judges and the chief reporter at the Conspiracy Trial facing p. 166 The Old Capitol Prison facing p. 196 Colonel William P. Wood facing p. 196 The barracks at Veroli, Italy (1939) facing p. 238 John H. Surratt, sketched by an artist of Harper's Weekly shortly after his arrival in Washington in 1867 facing p. 238 Route of Surratt's escape from Veroli to Naples, where he took ship to Malta and Alexandria 240 Dotted line indicates Surratt's route from Naples to Alex- andria 243 Arrival of John H. Surratt in Washington on February 19, 1867 facing p. 258 The Surratt Trial, Presiding Judge George P. Fisher, Judge A. B. Wylie, Edwards Pierrepont, chief counsel for the Government in the Surratt Trial. Albert Gal- latin Riddle, representative of the State Department facing p. 268 Surratt's alleged route from Elmira, N. Y. to Washington 297 Joseph H. Bradley, leader of the defense in the Surratt Trial. Richard T. Merrick, counsel for the defense facing p. 308 Dotted line indicates Surratt's route from Elmira to Mon- treal 3 1 7 Lincoln's closed coach. Lincoln's barouche with foldable top facing p. 356 ACKNOWLEDGMENTS 1 am greatly indebted to Milton S. Pratiner of New York City for editorial help in arranging my data and for offering valuable sugges- tions for its presentation. Grateful acknowledgments are also due to: Paul M. Angle, who read the manuscript and whose criticism and advice was much appreciated. Mr. W. H. Cathcart, Director of the Western Reserve Historical Society in Cleveland, for his help in procuring much of the informa- tion pertaining to Albert G. Riddle. Mrs. Marcelyn Heath Clark, Mr. E. M. Corbin, Mr. D. A. Loomis, Burlington, Vermont, who did successful research on John Surratt's flight through the Burlington territory. Mr. C. M. Cochrane, Davenport, Iowa, who supplied rare copies of the Washington Sunday Gazette containing the articles by Colo- nel William P. Wood. Mrs. Evan M. Davis, Deerfleld, Illinois; Mr. Charles E. Mason, Mr. Kenneth Chamberlin, Waukegan, Illinois; Mrs. Charles H. Watson, Evanston, Illinois; Mr. Frank L. Wood, Chicago, who helped me in tracing the life story of John W. Clampitt after he had settled in the Chicago district. Mr. Wadsworth Doster, Pittsburgh, for his permission to study the literary estate of his father, General William E. Doster. Mr. Walter M. Holden and Mr. John W. Curran, Chicago, who read some chapters of the manuscript and who shared with me their valuable knowledge and material. Mr. Leonarde Keeler and Dr. C. W. Muehlberger, Chicago, who have given me generously of their time and knowledge. Mr. Herbert A. Kellar of the McCormick Historical Association, Chicago, whose constant support has been of great help. Dr. Otto Korpiolek, who covered photographically the route which John Surratt took from Veroli to Naples. Mr. H. B. McConnell and Mr. L. Milton Ronsheim of Cadiz, Ohio, xi Xll A cknowledgments who permitted me to study and use their extensive collection of Wiechmann and Bingham letters. Professor R. Gerald McMurtry, of Lincoln Memorial University, who has never failed to send me pertinent facts whenever and wher- ever he found them. Virginia Maier, for her untiring cooperation in collecting, assem- bling and evaluating the historical data used in this volume. Ralph Newman, M. E. Northwall, Wright Howes, of Chicago, for their diligent efforts in procuring copies of rare books. Mrs. J. M. Peddicord and Dr. Everett E. Watson, Salem, Virginia, from whom I received what was said to be hair from the corpse on the Montauk, and whose recollections of the late Dr. J. M. Peddi- cord were freely put at my disposal. Dr. William Allen Pusey, whose deep knowledge of dermatology and whose kindness in introducing me to other experts in this field opened the way to a study of Booth's tattoo marks and their possible removal, as well as Booth's alleged freckles. Forest H. Sweet, Battle Creek, Michigan, for his ceaseless search among rare manuscripts and for the relevant facts he supplied. Dr. Max Thorek, Chicago, for reading the medical portions of my book and for many valuable suggestions. Dr. C. S. Webb, of Bowling Green, Virginia, who turned over to me some of the hair which Miss Lucinda Holloway claimed to have cut from the head of the man who died at Garrett's barn. James N. Wilkerson, of Kansas City, a close student of Booth's fate, with whom I have constantly exchanged views and whose ma- terial I have studied with interest and gratitude. John Woodford, for valuable criticism. Betty Breakstone, Sally Camerer, Meta Caminer, Blanche No- votny, Gladys Poll, who suggested many literary improvements in style and arrangement. I & It was the 14th of April, iS6$. In Ford's Theatre at Washing- ton Taylor's farce-comedy "Our American Cousin" was play- ing to a full house, with President Lincoln and his wife in attendance. The second scene of the third act was drawing to a close. Suddenly a shot rang out. The audience, thinking it was part of the play, paid little attention to it; but back-stage and in the orchestra pit startled looks were exchanged. The script did not call for the discharge of a pistol. Before anyone could give expression to his unnamed fear, a slim figure jumped from Lin- coln's box and disappeared into the wings. Through a haze of smoke Mrs. Lincoln could be seen bend- ing over the prostrate body of her husband. Her cry, "Stop that man''' shrilled through the house. Then there was pandemo- nium. Awe-stricken men first whispered and then cried aloud the name of the murderer: "John Wilkes Booth! John Wilkes Booth!" The assassination of Lincoln, usually considered the spontane- ous act of a madman, was in fact the culmination of several plots conceived to abduct the President, not to kill him. These plots were born, flowered under the surface for a time and then failed of fruition. If one of them had succeeded, Lincoln's life might have been spared; but they miscarried, and one furious and baffled conspirator turned murderer. That Lincoln lived through four years in the White House without serious misadventure is remarkable; for he did have, indeed, some narrow escapes — I Lincoln Had Some Narrow Escapes FROM THE moment Lincoln left Springfield on his trip to Washington in February 1861, many of his friends consid- ered him in bodily danger. There was reason to expect a hostile outbreak in Baltimore, and the newly elected President was rushed through there at night. When Lincoln arrived in Wash- ington, his close associates were still fearful for his safety. Major David Hunter, who had accompanied Lincoln most of the way from Illinois, organized a voluntary bodyguard and established its headquarters in the East room of the Executive Mansion. Marshal Ward Hill Lamon, who idolized his master and was watchful against danger, did not only apprehend assassination but also kidnaping. Rumors had come to his ears that in the last months of the outgoing administration fiery secessionists had planned to abduct Lincoln's predecessor, President Buchanan, and put Vice President Breckenridge in his place. When Lin- coln moved into the White House, these hotheads, so Lamon thought, might turn their plot with stronger reasons against the new Executive for the purpose of seizing his person and holding him as hostage, "until such concessions were made to the South- ern leaders as their plans of compromise rendered necessary." * All these fears eventually proved to be groundless. Month after month passed without mishap, and by and by all precau- tionary measures were abandoned. One year after his inaugura- tion the President was wont to walk through the streets of 3 4 Chapter I Washington or ride to his summer residence wholly unguarded. The summer residence was located at the Soldiers' Home about three miles north of the capital, and as the road led through a desolate section of the city's environs, it offered unusual chances for would-be attackers. But even Lamon's apprehensions had been dissipated after a year of vain watchfulness. Lincoln was entirely unconcerned about his own security. He lived in the White House like any ordinary citizen in his home. A major on General Halleck's staff in the fall of 1862 noted "the utterly unprotected condition of the President's per- son and the fact that any assassin or maniac seeking his life could enter his presence without the interference of a single armed man to hold him back." 2 The doors of the White House were open at all hours of the day and very late into the evening. People walked up to the rooms of the President's private secre- taries as late as nine or ten o'clock at night without being either seen or challenged. There were two civil servants in attendance, but their duties rested lightly on their shoulders. Halleck's staff officer frequently drew the attention of his general and that of Lincoln's junior secretary, John Hay, to the hazards of the situ- ation, but failed to arouse their interest. Finally he approached Lincoln himself and described to him by way of contrast the precautions taken by commanding generals at military head- quarters. Lincoln listened gravely, but shook his head. "Ah, yes!" he said, ". . . such things do very well for you military people . . . But the office of President is essentially a civil one ... I tell you, Major," he continued, "that I call . . . receptions my public-opinion baths— for I have but little time to read the papers and gather public opinion that way." 3 He then added that to have guards with drawn sabers at his door would make people fancy that they were dealing not with a President but with an Emperor. The officer thereupon became more in- sistent and hinted that, if some protective steps were not taken, Lincoln Had Some Narrow Escapes 5 assassination might result. Lincoln smiled and, with his hands locked across his knees and his body rocking back and forth in his chair, gave every indication that he was only amused. "I have an insurance on my life worth half the prairie land of Illinois,"* he reckoned, and added that the Richmond people would not like Vice President Hamlin any better than himself. Moreover, if guards were placed at the doors of the White House, they would put ideas into the heads of would-be assas- sins; as to crazy folks, they might even be attracted by having it published that he was afraid of them. 4 With which dictum the matter was put to rest. In the summer of 1862 Lincoln traveled unattended and at all hours to his country residence near the Soldiers' Home, some- times on horseback, sometimes by carriage. Secretary of State Seward also moved without protection and saw nothing unusual in this habit. 5 But General Wadsworth, then military com- mander of the District of Columbia, foresaw possible trouble. He took it upon himself to provide Lincoln with a bodyguard consisting of some cavalry, whose special duty it was to accom- pany the President on his trips, 6 in spite of his protests and thinly veiled disgust. One evening the President called after dinner at Halleck's private quarters to remonstrate, half jocularly and half in earnest, against his escort. The burden of his complaint was that he and Mrs. Lincoln could not hear themselves talk for the clatter of sabers and spurs. 7 He then added with a smile that from the looks of the soldiers he figured he was in more danger through an accidental discharge of their weapons than through an attack by an enemy. When his protest was politely but firmly denied, Lincoln merely shrugged his shoulders and yielded, as he so frequently did in matters that seemed to him of no vital importance. General Wadsworth was transferred to Burnside's army in December, 1862, and the discipline maintained up to then slack- 6 Chapter I ened. Nevertheless, by September two companies of the 150th Pennsylvania Volunteers had been detailed as guards at the Sol- diers' Home. The President's safety on his trips was entrusted to the cavalry of another command. Eventually, Company K of the Pennsylvania regiment became the permanent guardians of the Executive Mansion, a position held by them until the end of the war. Lincoln accepted their services with as good grace as he could muster, writing once with a fine touch of humor that the captain and his company "are very agreeable to me, and while it is deemed proper for any guard to remain none would be more satisfactory . . ." 8 A year later the guard service worked only intermittently. On June 30, 1863, Walt Whitman wrote in a letter: Mr. Lincoln passes here (14th Street) every evening on the way out. I noticed him about half past 6— he was in his barouche, two horses, guarded by about thirty cavalry. The barouche comes first under a slow trot, driven by one man on the box, not servant or footman beside; the cavalry all follow closely after with a lieutenant at their head. . . . 9 On the other hand, General Butler found the President en- tirely unprotected a few weeks later. "In the late summer [1863]," he chronicled, "I was invited by the President to ride with him in the evening out to the Soldiers' Home, some two miles, a portion of the way being quite lonely. He had no guard —not even an orderly on the box." When Butler criticized this lack of precautions, Lincoln argued that assassination was not an American crime. He did promise, however, to accept a guard if Stanton would provide one. A guard was promptly furnished, 10 and Butler took credit for the achievement. During the summer of 1863 Governor Tod of Ohio had occa- sion to visit Washington and was shocked by the lack of pro- tection accorded the President. He sought and obtained permis- Lincoln Had Some Narrow Escapes 7 sion to organize as guard a detachment of Ohio cavalry which later became known as the Union Light Guard. 11 Tod had found only two infantrymen and four cavalrymen on duty at the White House. But even they were not permitted to challenge anyone, and their value therefore was problemati- cal. 12 The Union Light Guard did not enter upon its duties until January, 1864. In the meantime, the battle of Gettysburg had been fought, Vicksburg had fallen, and the more thoughtful in the Confed- erate ranks were beginning to lose hope. Desperate measures were needed to bolster their cause. It was then that attempts to kidnap Lincoln were first seriously discussed by Southern par- tisans. An effort was made directly after the Gettysburg cam- paign by some of the irregulars under General Mosby, whose raiders were constantly hovering around the outskirts of the capital. A half dozen of these daring riders actually made their way into Washington with the avowed purpose of capturing Lincoln. But, as one of them confessed afterward, "the bland- ishments of John Barleycorn were more than those thirsty war- riors in butternut could withstand." 13 Their conversations were overheard, an alarm was sounded, and Mosby's men were glad to escape before they were trapped. Then came 1864 and Grant. A military decree, published by him, abruptly raised kidnaping from a madcap Confederate ven- ture to an inviting war measure. Grant had decreed that the ex- change of war prisoners must stop. With no further accruals to the enemy regiments through exchange of prisoners, the leader of the Union forces hoped to exhaust the man power of the South and thereby win a quick and comparatively bloodless victory. Any successful counterstroke against this threatening move on the military checkerboard would bring its sponsor un- 8 Chapter I dying glory. The kidnaping of Lincoln was one move which might checkmate Grant's strategy. After three years of warfare the exchange of prisoners had become a routine matter. It was still based on certain rules laid down in a cartel on July 22, 1862, signed by Generals John A. Dix and D. H. Hill for their respective armies. A lieutenant, by mutual agreement, was rated as equal to six privates; a captain was worth fifteen, a major general forty, a general in command sixty. 14 No value, of course, had been put on the heads of the Presidents who were commanders-in-chief of both army and navy. Would not Lincoln as a captive be worth all the tens of thousands of Confederate prisoners in the Northern camps? There is little doubt that the thought of capturing Lincoln originated with several people simultaneously. John Wilkes Booth, a young tragedian who loved the South passionately, but who had promised his mother he would not become a soldier, was one of those who were stirred into feverish action. By hold- ing Lincoln as hostage for the exchange of an army, he would serve his country better than by fighting. To many, the abduc- tion of a President from within his own capital may have seemed preposterous. On closer analysis, though, it would be found entirely practical. If executed with boldness and speed, it could succeed. Nevertheless, careful preparations had to be made, and Booth at once set out to lay the groundwork for his enterprise. The best opportunities to effect Lincoln's seizure were fur- nished by his frequent trips to the Soldiers' Home. Booth se- lected a lonely spot outside the capital for the attack; but he had alternate plans also. 15 One of them was to capture Lincoln on one of his visits to a hospital across the Anacostia bridge; another was to abduct him while attending a theatrical performance. Both schemes were abandoned after due consideration. The President's trips across the Potomac were taken too irregularly, and the romantic scheme to seize the President inside a play- Lincoln Had Some Narrow Escapes 9 house found no favorable response among Booth's more practi- cal-minded companions. One of the problems confronting the kidnapers was the selection of a proper route for carrying their captive into the Confederacy. There were two obvious possibilities from which to choose. One likely road led from Washington to the upper Potomac and south through the Shenandoah Valley or the coun- try east of it. The other was by way of the lower Potomac along what was known by the natives as the doctor's route, so called because it was used for the distribution of contraband mail by country physicians of Southern sympathies whose duties shielded them from close supervision. Booth finally gave pref- erence to this latter route and traveled extensively in lower Maryland under the pretext of buying farm property, but in reality to familiarize himself with every road and byroad. 16 If successful, Booth would have carried Lincoln through Surratts- ville, T. B. and Bryantown to Port Tobacco on the Potomac, where boats were constantly kept in waiting for the illustrious prisoner. Booth's companions have often been described as mere rabble; as a matter of fact, they were well chosen for their peculiarly valuable qualities as kidnapers. Assassination was not yet thought of at that time. John Surratt, the only one of Booth's helpers who had both intelligence and breeding, was an expert handler of horses and had an intimate knowledge of southern Maryland, where he had often traveled as a Confederate dispatch bearer. Lewis Paine, the former Florida soldier, with his gigantic strength, was to have subdued the powerful Lincoln. Herold, insignificant boy though he was, had spent many a day hunting among the crossroads of the Potomac country and knew strange hiding places with which even Surratt was not acquainted. The uncouth Atzerodt owned a boat at Port Tobacco and was well versed in illicit traffic. Samuel Arnold and Michael O'Laughlin io Chapter I were trusted schoolmates of Booth and had served under Lee as good and obedient soldiers. Toward the end of 1 864 the groundwork of the plan had been completed. No great secrecy seems to have been observed by the conspirators, for rumors of the proposed abduction had spread widely among the secessionist inhabitants of the district. Among others, a Confederate mail agent in southern Mary- land named Thomas A. Jones had heard of the plan. 17 The Pres- ident, he understood, was to be seized during his customary evening drive toward the Navy Yard, either chloroformed or gagged, and driven quietly out of the city. If the carriage should be stopped while crossing the Navy Yard bridge, the captors would point to the President and drive on. The carnage was to be escorted out of the city by men dressed in Federal uniforms. Relays of fast horses were in readiness all along the route, and a boat in which to take the captive across the Potomac was kept on the west side of Port Tobacco Creek, about three and a half miles from the town of the same name. In Jones' opinion, the carriage containing the abducted Presi- dent, once clear of Washington, could not be overtaken. The distance to be traversed was only thirty-six miles, and while the kidnapers had relays of fresh horses waiting for them, the pur- suers would be without such preparations. Moreover, ropes were to have been stretched across the roads, trees felled and other obstacles placed in the way of any rescuing party. Others were aware of Booth's plans. A farmer named Bryan, living on the Virginia side of the Potomac, told a reporter later that he had known all about the plan of abduction and the part he was expected to take. 18 Bryan had belonged to Mosby's men, and his company was to be stationed at that point of the river where the conspirators were to cross. Mosby's raiders, he be- lieved, would have been strong enough to take care of any small number of men sent in pursuit. He thought the road had been so Lincoln Had Some Narrow Escapes 1 1 well chosen and the people throughout southern Maryland were so loyal to the Confederate cause, that no fear of interference from that quarter need be entertained. The time chosen for the execution of Booth's scheme was the first half of January 1865. A cotton broker named Martin, who happened to be in Port Tobacco at that time, testified that Atzerodt would not carry him across the Potomac because he expected to transport a more important party. 19 John Surratt left his employ on January 13 so abruptly that he didn't even draw his pay. 20 Sam Arnold also expected the climax about that time. 21 The actor Samuel K. Chester, to whom Booth had as- signed the part of turning off the gas in the theatre, should the abduction take place there, was wanted in Washington in Janu- ary of that year. Although no details were vouchsafed him, he was invited to participate in a "plan that could not fail". 22 Yet, the plan that could not fail was never even put to a test. An extremely mild winter had left the roads impassable and, as the kidnaping party could not afford the risk of becoming mired before crossing the Potomac into Confederate territory, the execution of the plot had to be abandoned for the time being. How many other of his enemies intended to kidnap Lincoln will probably never be known. There is definite proof, how- ever, that the idea had not occurred to Booth alone. In fact, he and his little band constantly suspected that others were plotting along similar lines. John Surratt asserted in 1870 that there had been a rival con- spiracy afoot in Washington five years before. One evening, as he was lying down in the reading room of the Metropolitan Hotel, two or three gentlemen came in and commenced to talk mysteriously about an expedition which was about to be under- taken. "We didn't know what they were after, exactly," Surratt 1 2 Chapter I said, 23 "but we were well satisfied that their object was very much the same as ours." The identity of those whom Surratt overheard has never been discovered. That their intrigue was important may well be questioned. Only dilettante conspirators would have discussed their plans audibly in the public parlor of a Washington hotel. Yet Booth and his associates were correct in their surmise that someone else was running them a close race. At the head of an- other party which meant serious business was a man named Thomas N. Conrad, a famous Confederate scout, who had worked out the details of a kidnaping plot with another scout named Mount joy while their command had been at winter quarters on the Chickahominy in 1863. Their contemplated plan of action closely paralleled that of the Booth group. 24 They also had selected the lower Potomac route and had decided to intercept the Presidential carriage near the Soldiers' Home. This resort was surrounded by a large acre- age of old trees, and the grounds contained beautiful winding driveways. The Fourteenth Street entrance, through which the President's carriage usually approached, was admirably adapted for the attack, so Conrad decided. 25 The Confederate scout also had chosen his help with care, and his band closely resembled that of Booth. Where the latter needed Paine for his brutality, so Conrad relied upon a big, rawboned athlete named Frizzell. Both Paine and Frizzell had been prisoners of war and had re- ceived rough treatment; they could therefore be expected to be eager for an act of vengeance. Conrad's driver was a man named Williams, and the description he gave of him could well have fitted that of Surratt. "He was six feet in height, straight as an arrow, twenty-three years of age, and when with me was as bold as a lion . . . His loyalty . . . could not be questioned. I wanted him on this occasion to mount Lincoln Had Some Narrow Escapes i 3 the seat upon which Mr. Lincoln's driver sat and, with pistol in hand, to make him obey my orders" . . , 26 Conrad's well-laid plan miscarried. The President, whom the Confederate scout had never before known to travel under escort during weeks of waiting, suddenly changed his routine and moved under military protection. The change took place on the very day the plot was to have been executed. "Imagine my astounding surprise and total collapse," he wrote, "when we beheld the carriage of Mr. Lincoln moving out of the grounds of the White House preceded and followed by a squad of cavalry." 27 Conrad was convinced that no one of his party had betrayed his plans. What had caused this unexpected ob- stacle to be thrown in his way, Conrad never knew; but he be- lieved to his dying day that if he had acted a day sooner he would have succeeded. Conrad had one advantage over Booth. Had he abducted Lin- coln on a dark night, he could have hurried him across the Treas- ury Park south of the White House to a vacant home near the Potomac River, where he had often been in hiding on his scout- ing missions. This was the old Van Ness mansion in the rear of the War Department. It was surrounded by a high brick wall with a large iron gate and, being several blocks away from the main streets of Washington, served as an admirable rendezvous for Southern sympathizers throughout the war. Its owner, Col- onel Green, was an old Virginian who had two sons in the Con- federate army. The porter's lodge of his home was used as a secret post office where messages were dropped and called for at regular intervals. 28 After Booth's abortive attempt in January, 1865, months passed without an opportunity to repeat it. "We seldom saw one another," stated one of the plotters, "owing to the many rumors 1 4 Chapter I afloat that a conspiracy of some kind was being concocted . . ." Then the long-delayed chance came. "One day we received information," John Surratt recalled, "that the President would visit the Seventh Street Hospital for the purpose of being pres- ent at an entertainment . . . the report only reached us about three-quarters of an hour before the time appointed . . . This was between i and 2 o'clock in the afternoon." 29 The carriage was to be halted and directed south over Ben- ning's Bridge, which was not guarded. Everything was in readi- ness. Arnold and O'Laughlin had preceded the party to inter- cept the carriage, should the driver try to escape by whipping up the horses. Herold was at Surrattsville, ready to add ropes and other necessary material when the prisoner should reach there. Booth, Surratt and Paine were to effect the capture. The carriage drew near; one can visualize the trembling sus- pense of the conspirators, as every step of the horses, every turn of the wheels, brought them closer to the great moment which would make them famous, envied, rich. But the moment came, and passed unsung into history. For some reason never made known, Lincoln had sent someone else in his stead to see the per- formance of the afternoon. Did a slight cold beset Lincoln and cause his wife to keep him at home? Did a sudden premonition warn him of impending danger? The man in the carriage was not molested, and the small band of crestfallen, angry plotters scattered. Thus, on or about March 20, 1865, 30 ended the last and most promising attempt to kidnap a President of the United States. The various conspiracies to abduct Lincoln did not escape notice by the secret service. Only two people, however, were worried enough to take definite countermeasures. These two Lincoln Had Some Narrow Escapes i 5 people were Mrs. Lincoln and Marshal Lamon. In the fall of 1864, when Conrad's plot came uncomfortably close to success, it was probably the President's wife who aroused the mounted guard to a stricter attention to duty. The escort was cautioned to be extremely vigilant, not only on the trips to and from the old Soldiers' Home, but to be prepared for any disturbance in the vicinity during the night. In fact, the whole company was for a time kept under arms with horses saddled. But Mrs. Lin- coln was not satisfied even with these precautions. After the family had returned to the White House for the winter, she pri- vately requested that a detail from the Union Light Guard should be stationed in the Executive Mansion each night, without Mr. Lincoln's knowledge. Her wishes were respected, of course, and members of the squad were assigned to the house. 31 These ar- rangements could not be kept from the President for any length of time, and Lamon therefore decided to install a system of per- sonal bodyguards who were to be with Lincoln day and night and accompany him where mounted men could not follow. 32 So it came about that four men were drafted from the ranks of the Metropolitan police force in November, 1864, and remained on duty until Lincoln's death. The President's failure to cooperate with any arrangements for his own safety was a matter of grave concern to his entour- age. Fifty years later some of the surviving telegraph operators still remembered how "he terrified them all by his careless habits . . .", as Clara E. Laughlin wrote after interviewing them. 33 Even Lamon, who watched over Lincoln with all the care of a loving friend, could not overcome his Chief's passive resistance. "It was impossible ... to induce him to forego these lonely and dangerous journeys between the Executive Mansion and the Soldiers' Home," he complained. "A stranger to fear, he often eluded our vigilance . . ." 34 1 6 Chapter I The trips to the Soldiers' Home were not the only sources of threatening dangers. Even more risky perhaps were the short walks Lincoln took to the War Department almost every eve- ning. The distance was only about an ordinary city block, but the densely shaded passageway ran along the north side of a brick wall about four or five feet high and was only dimly lighted by a few flickering gas jets. 35 One of the cavalrymen on duty opined that kidnaping the President on one of these nightly strolls would have been practicable. 36 Noah Brooks, a newspaperman much devoted to the President, once remonstrated with him after the two men had walked to- gether from the War Department to the White House. "I could not help saying," Brooks reported, "that I thought his going to and fro in the darkness of the night, . . . often alone . . . was dangerous recklessness. That night, in deference to his wife's anxious appeal, he had provided himself with a thick oaken stick. He laughed as he showed me this slight weapon . . .'*' 37 Lincoln never was attacked on these short walks in the dark, although vague stories that he had had some close calls in his own grounds were circulated after his death. Major Eckert, one of Stanton's confidants, even claimed to have received the confes- sion of a murderous attempt there by the conspirator Paine. The attack was said to have been planned for one frosty night in the winter of 1864-1865. 38 On another occasion a messenger of the War Department named Hatter accompanied Lincoln from Stanton's office to the White House. He heard a man running away and next morning found that part of the fence around the War Office had been removed. Lincoln asked Hatter to keep the matter quiet, but the latter did report it to Stanton, who said he had already heard of the occurrence and apparently was not greatly disturbed. 39 A successful abduction of the President by his enemies would Lincoln Had Some Narrow Escapes * 7 not have been contrary to the laws of civilized warfare. This was conceded by observers on both sides of the Mason-Dixon line. "It is a common, well known fact," wrote the New York Herald on June 20, 1867, "that the abduction of Lincoln was projected and discussed in the southern papers two or three years before his death. Such a plan was regarded at that time as LEESBURG WASHINGTON ALEXANDRIA^ • \ # SURRATTSVILLE KING GEORGE CrH FREDERICKSBURG PORT ROYAL* BOWLI RICHMOND PROBABLE Routes chosen FOR THE ABt>UCTlOM OF PRESIDENT LINCOLN 1 8 Chapter I fair game. It was not very vehemently discouraged, and there was very little blame attached to the idea, even in the North." Nevertheless, the Confederate government never became in- volved in any kidnaping plans. More likely than not, Jefferson Davis would have vetoed them had he known of their existence. When John Surratt lectured in later years, he stated plainly that the planned abduction of Lincoln had been "concocted without the knowledge or the assistance of the Confederate gov- ernment. . . ." 40 Surratt even confided to Booth his fear that the Richmond authorities might surrender the successful kid- napers to the United States together with their prisoner. The Confederate scout Conrad was equally emphatic in his denial. "Neither President Davis nor his secretary of war," he as- serted, "had any knowledge of my contemplated attempt to capture Mr. Lincoln and bring him to Richmond. I consulted only the military secretary of General Bragg . . . This . . . secretary enjoined me, above all things, not to hurt a hair upon Lincoln's head, or treat him with the slightest indignity."' 41 Although Lincoln was indifferent to any possible dangers of abduction or assassination, he was aware of them and sometimes discussed them with Marshal Lamon. Strangely, he actually en- tertained suspicions against two persons, but chiefly against Adam Gurowski, a Polish count who, after a checkered career leading through Russian prisons and a professorship at a Swiss university, had come to the United States in 1 849. ". . . From the known disposition of the man," Lincoln once said, "he is dangerous ... I have sometimes thought that he might try to take my life. . . ." 42 Lincoln was wrong. Not a shadow of suspicion touches Lincoln Had Some Narrow Escapes 1 9 Gurowski, and if Lincoln had been more familiar with this type of European theorist he would have harbored no fear of him. Gurowski was, in spite of an outward appearance of ferocious bravery, nothing but a shrinking coward. Gideon Welles in 1862 still described him as "Brave . . . without doubt, a rude, rough Polish bear . . .", 43 but two years later he changed his views. Welles had arranged a party, but had not invited the count, and Gurowski exhibited uncontrollable rage at this slight. A few days later the two men met. The Secretary of the Navy undoubtedly thought himself in peril; but, so he told his diary, "he [Gurowski] saw and recognized me, seemed to be embar- rassed . . . dropped his head and, turning off ... he went far around, with his head bent over, shame and passion in his coun- tenance." 44 Morally, Gurowski was even a worse coward. He had writ- ten a diary, "in horrid style and bad English," Welles thought, ". . . abusing in clumsy language almost all public characters." For that the District Attorney of Washington had him indicted for libel. Gurowski offered an astounding defense: he refused to concede authorship of the book, although he had bragged about it months before its publication. When questioned on the witness stand the valorous count, in spite of hecklings and near- insults, would not open his mouth. 45 Lincoln's other suspect was a man whom he accidentally met one night in the War Department. Thomas Pendel, then one of the bodyguards, had just left Stanton's office in company with the President when, about half way down the stairs, they met a man coming up who scrutinized Lincoln intently. He was thick- set, and wore a gray suit. Then the President did something un- usual—he looked at the stranger very closely, as if trying to fix his features on his memory. When Lincoln was alone with Pen- del, he said, "Last night I received a letter from New York stating that 20 Chapter I there would be a man here who would attempt to take my life. In that letter was a description . . . The man we just passed agreed exactly with the description . . ." 46 There was no "thick-set man" in Booth's band. Surratt was too slim to fit any such description. The others all had out- standing characteristics which would have struck an observer more poignantly than their builds— Booth with his beauty, Paine with his defiant eyes, Atzerodt with his head wedged between stooping shoulders and Herold with his vacant expression. Fur- thermore, Pendel certainly was asked to look over all the sus- pects gathered in after the assassination, and he obviously did not find the "thick-set man" among them. Marshal Lamon, in constant anxiety about the security of his beloved master, believed that Booth had originally planned the murder of the President for March 4, 1865, during the second inauguration. Lamon related that the young actor had tried to break through a cordon of policemen to get at his victim, but had been restrained by a Capitol guard named Westfall. 47 There exist many affidavits showing that Booth really tried to break through the police cordon during the inauguration cere- monies. 48 Nevertheless, Lamon's opinion that the tragedian con- templated assassination on that occasion is open to doubt. It is known that Booth had obtained tickets through the daughter of Senator Hale, that he used them and that he sat only a few feet from Lincoln while the latter delivered his address. 49 If he had intended to assassinate the President, a scuffle with the Capitol guards would have been the worst possible blunder. Besides, on March 4 Booth still had faith in his kidnaping plot. Lee's army was yet unbeaten and an exchange of prisoners a worthwhile goal. Investigation would probably have shown only that Booth Lincoln Had Some Narrow Escapes 21 was late for his appointment and tried to reach his seat hurriedly and in an unorthodox manner. Further evidence that Lincoln was not in danger from Booth on March 4 was furnished by sworn testimony two years later. Louis Wiechmann had seen Booth on inauguration night and testified that he had shown neither excitement nor any other emotion; but when Wiechmann had seen the actor after the abortive kidnaping attempt, "Booth was so excited that he walked around the room . . . frantically . . ." 50 The details of this incident on inauguration day were with- held from the press "for prudential reasons," according to Lamon. 51 It seems that Lamon shouldered a tremendous responsi- bility by withholding pertinent and important information not only from the press but from Lincoln as well. For when Lamon left for Richmond two days before the assassination he went to Lincoln and begged him to promise not to go out after nightfall, particularly not to the theatre. What did Lamon know that he never told? How much did he suspect? Booth's plot was the only one which had any connection with the theatre. Lamon might have known of Booth's miscar- ried plan of abduction. If he did, why was he not more out- spoken? Lincoln was no simpleton and had shown on the pre- vious occasion of his trip through Baltimore in 1861, that he would heed warnings, provided they were based on something more tangible than mere generalities. If Lamon had taken Lin- coln into his confidence, the tragedy at Ford's Theatre might have been avoided. II * ft One of the most amazing features of Lincoln's assassination is that it ivas talked about as an accomplished fact, yes, was even published in newspapers, before it happened. Instances of this kind were found in widely separated parts of the country — II Vox Populi ON THE morning of the fatal April 14, 1865, twelve hours or more prior to the tragedy at Ford's Theatre, people in the New Hampshire town of Manchester openly spoke of Lin- coln's assassination as an event of the past. At that time no one paid much attention to the report, but soon afterward it loomed large in the eyes of the secret service. Could it be possible that the ramifications of the murder plot reached all the way into that New England town? A diligent provost marshal at Concord took charge of the case. He traced the report to a man named John Morrison who, un- fortunately, had just left for Wilmington, North Carolina. Ef- forts to find him there proved unsuccessful. What made this development look still more ominous was that Booth had been in Manchester a short time previously and had a relative by mar- riage living there. But here the story ends, so far as the archives of the War Department tell it. Manchester was not the only place in America which could boast of having known of Lincoln's assassination in advance of the tragedy. St. Joseph, Minnesota, might have put in a claim for a share of the honor, if such it was. According to Father Chini- qui, a former Catholic priest, who later devoted much effort to prove that Lincoln's assassination had been the outcome of a Jesuit plot, this premature knowledge of the crime was more than oracular. 1 25 26 Chapter II "I present ... to the world," the ex-priest proclaimed, "a fact of the greatest gravity, and that fact is so well authenticated that it cannot allow even the possibility of a doubt. "Three or four hours before Lincoln was murdered in Wash- ington, . . . that murder was not only known by some one, but it was circulated and talked of in the streets, and in the houses of the priestly and Romish town of St. Joseph, Minnesota. . . . there were no railroad nor any telegraph communication nearer than 40 or 80 miles from the nearest station . . ." To Chiniqui the answer to this riddle was plain: ". . . the priests of Rome knew and circulated the death of Lincoln four hours before its occurrence . . . But they could not circulate it without knowing it, and they could not know it, without belong- ing to the band of conspirators who assassinated President Lin- coln." Thus the author of Fifty Years in the Church of Rome con- cluded that the guilt of the priests who had "circulated the death of Lincoln" before it occurred stood proven. Perhaps he would have been less certain had he known that Middletown, New York, also had heard of the tragedy prior to its happening. On Friday, the 14th, at 2:30 p.m., so a writer in the Middle- town Whig Press asserted, he had been informed that the Presi- dent was shot and that "it was currently so reported in the village of Pine Bush, in the town of Crawford, before 12 o'clock, M., of that day." Did that not evidence a widespread conspiracy, the editor asked? Was the report predicated upon a knowledge of what was to be done? Had some of the "Sons of Liberty", that secret order of anti-war Democrats, let the matter out prematurely? The Newburgh Journal confirmed the facts reported in the Whig, but was more conservative in its editorial opinion. "Whether it is actually the fact that Rebels there [in Pine Bush] had knowledge of the plot, or whether it was one of those Vox Populi 2 7 rumors which start and are carried no one knows how, the reader can judge for himself . . ." A well-known surgeon of high standing in an unnamed New England town who had been in the enrollment service, reported a similar strange incident. 2 "... I found," he wrote two years later, "the death of the President had been currently reported since noon the day pre- vious, some ten hours before it . . . occurred. ... a large num- ber of affidavits were taken, showing that parties here were so sure the President would be shot that the report became public ... in advance of the catastrophe." General Butler's committee on the assassination, in 1 867, sifted whatever evidence of conspiracies there was, but came to no defi- nite conclusion. It listened to much irresponsible gossip, such as that a Maryland man had heard in February, 1865, of Lincoln's threatened assassination during his inauguration; a man in York, Pennsylvania, had made a bet that Lincoln would be murdered; a citizen in Bolivar, Missouri, had predicted dire happenings to the President a few days before his death. There was more of such drivel, all of the same character. If these reports proved anything at all, they proved that a personal attack on Lincoln was easy to imagine. Apparently almost everybody envisioned it, except those who were responsible for the President's safety. If the rumor mills were busy grinding out stories of Lincoln's death before it happened, they naturally were still busier after the event. People recognized Booth on the streets of the capital, on trains in Pennsylvania and at other less likely places. Several innocent persons were arrested and probably considered them- selves lucky to stay under police protection until their true 28 Chapter II identity could be established. The authorities heard many un- usual stories and were asked to follow many quaint clues. - Here is what one man told the military detectives of Alex- andria: Two days after the assassination, a man drove up to his farm outside of Washington and asked for something to eat. He first drank a quart of milk and then asked for eggs. The farmer's wife gave him six. He asked for more and ate another half dozen. The stranger then became excited and looked out of the window, in the meantime eating three more hen's eggs and two large goose eggs. In all, he ate seventeen raw eggs and then de- clared he was almost crazy. He intimated that he knew some- thing about the assassination, having stood within ten feet of the President when he was shot. Then he jumped up suddenly and asked for his bill. When he was told it was thirty-five cents, he threw down fifty cents and hurried away. A postmaster at Detroit, a former member of Congress, im- parted this priceless bit of information which he had received through a medium: Booth was secreted in a hogshead under Ford's Theatre among some old barrels. If the spirits were to be trusted, actors were feeding him. One Silas S. Jones of West Troy was still more imaginative. "From information in my possession," he wrote to the War De- partment, "I believe J. W. Booth to be secreted in the city of Chicago, 111., ... in a house of ill fame . . . disguised as a female." He closed by saying that "this may be the means of causing the arrest of the assassin." One of the queerest reports was submitted by a Washington printer named Hill who knew Booth by sight. About two weeks after the assassination, as he was walking down E Street, between Eleventh and Twelfth, he saw a person in the garb of a woman, with a crutch under one arm. He took this person to be an acquaintance of his named Kate Robinson and accosted her. Vox Populi 29 "Kate," he asked, "when did you get hurt?" The supposed Kate turned her head, and Mr. Hill, horror-stricken, recognized J. Wilkes Booth. What was still more puzzling was that the cripple suddenly vanished after this meeting, and Hill had no idea what had become of him. A woman canvasser named Shine wrote from St. Louis that she was a natural born detective "of keen aprihension" ready to "ferry out" all enemies of the government. She suggested that the regular detective force, who were known to Booth, would never catch the criminal, but that she might. It is not recorded whether Mrs. Shine's ambition to become a sleuth was gratified. With so many suspects in the clutches of the government, it proved a difficult task for the authorities to examine them ade- quately. Hence, one Dr. Charles E. Cady, a military surgeon, recommended a novel method for obtaining confessions. Dur- ing his three years' experience in the army, he had upon numer- ous occasions procured from Rebel officers much important information while they were partially under the influence of chloroform, information which they had positively refused to communicate in their normal state. The worthy doctor had even figured out the exact method of procedure. He respect- fully advised that the experiment be conducted by men thor- oughly skilled in the administration of chloroform and in a large room free from furniture. The patient was to be placed flat on his back with his head slightly elevated. Two or three windows were to be thrown open so as to insure perfect admix- ture of air with the vapor of the anaesthetic. Pure unadulterated chloroform was then to be carefully but rapidly administered, and while the patient was in a semiconscious condition, he was to be questioned bluntly and pointedly. From Lafayette, Indiana, advice was received that Booth was lying concealed near the town of Middleburg, Virginia. The 3° Chapter II clairvoyant making this revelation went into great details. "A little northeast of the Town House,"' he wrote, "there is a one story building, cottage style, with a very steep roof. In front of the house is a garden laid out in squares, and the man of the house is tall and straight, has a sandy complexion and sore eyes." It would have been unfair to expect a more explicit description of Booth's hiding place. The correspondent had had previous experience in foretelling things, but unfortunately, so he added ruefully, he had been put into prison for some of his predictions. A woman who signed herself "Justice" warned Secretary Stan- ton to be vigilant. Booth might be the darkey that washed his dishes or the old lady who was knitting in an easy chair. Per- haps he even was disguised as a sick woman with cap and night- gown, apparently bedridden. Not all communications received by the War Department were mere trash. One H. C. Young, of Cincinnati, wrote on April 20 that he desired to contribute his share towards catch- ing the villain Booth. He had attended the actor while sick at the Burnett house a year previously, and he now wanted to record that the young actor had several scars on his arm and body and one on the forehead. He also added that he had the initials J.W.B. in India ink on one of his hands near the thumb. So far as is known, none of the letter writers were ever favored with a reply, and in their hopes for local fame they were doomed to disappointment. The capture of several real conspirators and others whom the government so designated, helped to dry up the source of this type of correspondence. By May, 1865, the influx of letters to the War Department had dwindled to a mere trickle, and by June of that year it stopped altogether, thus bringing this chapter of American history to its natural close. Ill * After his bloody deed in Ford's Thea- tre, John Wilkes Booth fled into Virginia and was traced to a farm near Port Royal. A pursuit party of Union soldiers, led by two detectives, surrounded the little out- house in which the fugitive had taken shelter and, so the official report declared, shot him to death. While the body was being taken to Washington, strange ru- mors traveled ahead of it. The remains, it was whispered, were not those of Booth. Yet, someone's body was identi- fied as that of the assassin — T III A Body Is Identified HE OFFICIAL telegram announcing Booth's alleged death was short and to the point. 1 WAR DEPARTMENT, Washington,) Thursday, April 27—9:20 a.m. ) Major-Gen. DIX: J. Wilkes Booth and Harrold [Herold] were chased from the swamp in St. Mary's County, Maryland, to Gar- rett's farm, near Port Royal, on the Rappahannock, by Col. Baker's force. The barn in which they took refuge was fired. Booth, in making his escape was shot through the head and killed, lingering about three hours, and Harrold was captured. Booth's body and Harrold are now here. EDWIN M. STANTON, Secretary of War. The body of the victim at the Garrett farm had scarcely reached the capital, when rumors became current that the corpse was not that of Booth. The Constitutional Union, an opposi- tion paper, published a statement to that effect, 2 and the story was greedily absorbed by a sensation-hungry public. Even staid citizens were aware of it. "After the death of Booth," wrote Dr. John Frederick May, a leading surgeon of Washington, "strong doubt existed whether the body brought to the Navy Yard at Washington was that of the man who had assassinated the President. In fact, it was 33 34 Chapter III openly asserted it / 1<> //* 44 , I ?* t t ' I - i x « A / 6% /l y 1 *" ' c £**<"*<*/ -G-jlJiu*. /'V / c 4V X... / . frl^.- A page from the original manuscript of Doctor May's "The Mark of the Scalpel". (Original in the Library of Congress.) A Body Is Identified 37 and on his left hand, between the forefinger and thumb, a small cross, and across the same hand several spots, all in India ink. Bainbridge, a Confederate soldier, who had been in the as- sassin's company before he reached Garrett's farm, recalled twenty-four years later that the "initials 'J-W.B.' [were] done in Indian ink on his right hand." 13 Nevertheless, an important corroboration of Dawson's testi- mony was furnished many years later by a former sergeant of marines named John M. Peddicord. This young soldier had been ordered to stand watch over the body on board the Montauk until the inquest began. In a signed article, published by the Roanoke, Virginia, Evening News on June 6, 1903, he spoke freely of the events that had then come under his observa- tion. The important part of his recollections pertains to the tattooed letters, "J.W.B." He was the only witness, with the exception of Dawson, who had observed them and, what is still more poignant, recalled them as "letters in India ink, on the back of his hand, in pale, straggling characters, ... as a boy would have done it." This happens to correspond exactly with a description given by Booth's sister Asia in her memoirs. These recollections, recorded in her diary, may be taken as authentic. "He had perfectly shaped hands," she wrote, "and across the back of one he had clumsily marked, when a little boy, his initials in India ink." 14 The similarity of these two statements makes up for Mr. Dawson's lack of accuracy and eliminates other descriptions of the initials from more remote sources. The testimonies of Daw- son, Peddicord and Asia Booth, taken in conjunction with each other, form a strong chain of evidence. The inquest proceeded. The scar on Booth's neck, which Dawson had pointed out, called for further investigation, and 38 Chapter III the officials in charge lost no time about it; they sent for Dr. John Frederick May, the surgeon who had performed the oper- ation of which this scar had been the eventual result. He quickly identified Booth's body by means of this blemish. Doctor May wrote of this experience in 1889, although the article was held in abeyance until 1 909, when it was read before the Columbia Historical Society of Washington. 15 It is a dra- matic story, well told. According to Doctor May, he was a very reluctant witness and went to the inquest under duress. When he arrived on the Montauk the cover was taken from the corpse. ". . . to my great astonishment [it] revealed a body in whose lineaments there was to me no resemblance of the man I had known in life! My surprise was so great that I at once said to General Barnes, 'There is no resemblance in that corpse to Booth, nor can I believe it to be that of him.'*' Now follows the climax. The doctor reflected silently for a few moments and then asked, "Is there a scar upon the back of its neck?" There was. Then Doctor May said: "If that is the body of Booth, let me describe the scar before it is seen by me;" and he did so with such accuracy that Doctor Barnes replied: "You have described the scar as well as if you were looking at it . . ." 16 The soldiers thereupon placed the body in a sitting position, and Doctor May was finally enabled "to imperfectly recognize the features of Booth." 17 But never had he seen a greater change. The skin was yellow and discolored and the "facial expression sunken and sharpened by the exposure and starvation it had undergone." Unfortunately, the stenographic transcription of the inquest, carefully annotated and corrected by Doctor May himself, does not fully support his published recollections. In the cold light A Body Is Identified 39 „,~ .^ r -~»-' ,i *--«-**"' *•■%-» f "^ J- V*. •**.->. I oJ— {JUL |^^^>JUAj A-fv^^o *^> Juo-iaM-vI $Um^u>-^._ VTfr-o-v^ [-jju i,>ni fliA,) , V4^m^A^>^, Chi»-o^4-4^ IMtft— ^ik<~) Waujt: ^C «jU*** /V-^L-e-^r-cyvO-^A*. 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