some remarked the intense pallor of his face. He was remarked, at this
time, to be slowly working his way through the crowd towards the door of
the President’s box. For a moment he was observed leaning against the
wall, pale, and with a startling wildness of the eyes, looking over the
audience. Then he attempted to enter the box, but was challenged by the
sentry stationed there. Booth answered that he was a senator of the
United States, and that the President had sent for him.
He was admitted; the door closed behind him, which he immediately
fastened by placing a wooden bar, arranged in advance, across it.
He moved toward the President, and stood for an instant behind his
chair. The stage was almost deserted. Asa Trenchard, represented by Mr.
Hawk, was its sole occupant. Mr. Lincoln was watching the scene with his
eyes bent on the stage, quiet, calm, almost smiling. Booth crept closer
to his victim, drew his pistol, and fired. A spring toward the front of
the box, a backward lunge with the bowie-knife, held in one hand, which
pierced Major Rathbon’s arm, wounding him severely; then a wild
dangerous leap over. His spur entangled itself with the flags, and the
impetus flung him forward on the stage, where he fell upon one knee. An
instant, and he leaped up, brandishing the naked bowie-knife in his
hand, which was red with the blood of Major Rathbon. In a strong, clear
voice, thrillingly dramatic, he cried out the old Latin motto of the
State of Virginia, “_Sic semper tyrannis_.” With these defiant words on
his lips, Booth rushed across the stage, down a side passage, where his
red hand almost brushed against Laura Keene, and out of a rear door
which opened to a lane back of the theatre.
There a horse stood ready, held by an accomplice, on which he leaped,
and dashed down the lane. The audience for one awful minute were struck
dumb. The smoke from the President’s box, the excited shrieks of Mrs.
Lincoln, which rang with awful meaning over the crowd, threw the whole
multitude into bewildering confusion. Only one man had presence of mind
enough to understand the awful truth, and pursue the assassin. Colonel
J. B. Stewart, a tall, powerful man, full of cool courage, leaped upon
the stage from the orchestra seats, and rushed after Booth across the
stage to the rear of the theatre. Once his hand almost grasped the
assassin’s garments, but the door which was flung open fell to with
violent force, and Stewart lost a precious moment in attempting to open
it. It swung back at last, but Booth had already leaped to his horse,
and, in an instant, was engulfed in the murky darkness of the lane.
Meantime the crowd swayed wildly to and fro; shrieks of anguish from
distracted wife rang through the multitude with maddening effect. The
President had fallen forward, with his head on his breast, breathing,
but senseless. The ball had entered his head just back of the left ear,
passed completely through the brain, and lodged above the right eye.
Laura Keene rushed to the box, calling for help, and aided Miss Harris
to support the murdered man in his seat. There, pale with terror, one
pleading for help, the other crying out for water, those two frightened
ladies kept him from falling forward with their trembling hands.
The crowd understood the awful catastrophe now, and a mad rush was made
for the stage—all too late. By that time Booth was galloping through the
stormy night, on a horse whose swiftness defied pursuit. Then the inner
bar was forced away from its rude sockets, and there was a rush to the
box where President Lincoln was still supported by those feeble women,
who stood by him firmly, their hands red with his blood, and their
garments wet with the crimson rain which never came from a more
thoroughly kind heart. On the back of the cushioned chair, on the
partition, and on the floor, that martyr blood had fallen. On the carpet
lay a single-barreled pistol.
They lifted the dying man, carried him through the heaving surges of the
crowd, to the house of Mr. Peterson, in Tenth street, close by the
theatre. Then the multitude swayed doorward, and filled the street,
packing it with white, anxious faces. A guard was placed at the door,
who in vain strove to answer the questions urged upon him. All he could
say was, that the President was dying; a few minutes or hours, at least,
must close his life. Then a dreadful stillness fell upon the crowd; some
went away in painful silence; others—stout, strong men, too—turned away
weeping like little children.
At five o’clock on Saturday morning, the President lay in his death
agonies. He was lying upon the bed, apparently breathing with great
difficulty. He was entirely unconscious, and had been ever since his
assassination. His eyes were protruding from their sockets and suffused
with blood. In other respects, his countenance was unchanged. At his
bedside were the Secretary of War, Secretary of the Navy, Secretary of
the Interior, Postmaster-General, and the Attorney-General; Senator
Sumner, General Farnsworth, General Todd, cousin to Mrs. Lincoln; Major
Hay, M. B. Field, General Halleck, Major-General Meigs, Rev. Dr. Gurley,
George Oglesby, of Illinois; Drs. E. N. Abbott, R. K. Stone, C. D.
Hatch, Neal, Hall, and Lieberman. In the adjoining room was Mrs.
Lincoln, her son, Captain Robert Lincoln; Miss Harris, who was with Mrs.
Lincoln at the time of the assassination of the President; Rufus F.
Andrews, and two lady friends of Mrs. Lincoln.
Mrs. Lincoln was under great excitement and agony, wringing her hands
and exclaiming, “Why did he not shoot me instead of my husband? I have
tried to be so careful of him, fearing something would happen, and his
life seemed to be more precious now than ever. I must go with him,” and
other expressions of the intense agony of her coming widowhood. She was
constantly going back and forth to the bedside of the President,
exclaiming in great anguish, “How can it be so!” The scene was
heart-rending, and it is impossible to portray it in its living light.
When General Farnsworth went in, hoping to comfort her, she seized him
by the arm and with touching appeal besought him to save her husband, as
if any human help could avail then.
Captain Robert Lincoln bore himself with great firmness, and while
quivering with anguish himself endeavored to assuage the grief of his
mother by telling her to put her trust in God and all would be well.
Occasionally, being entirely overcome, he would retire into the hall and
give way to most heart-rending lamentations. In his affliction, as in
the sunshine of the greatest prosperity, this young man proved worthy of
the father who was dying—worthy of the nation with whom his after
fortune should be held as a sacred inheritance. Let what will come in
the hereafter, the orphaned sons of Abraham Lincoln have a right to
claim adoption from the American people.
About a quarter of an hour before the President died, his breathing
became very difficult, and in many instances seemed to have entirely
ceased. The surgeons who were holding his pulse supposed him to be dead,
but he would again rally and breathe with so great difficulty as to be
heard in almost every part of the house. Mrs. Lincoln took her last
leave of him about twenty minutes before he expired—she could not endure
to await the awful footsteps of death.
The surgeons and the members of the Cabinet, Senator Sumner, Captain
Robert Lincoln and Rufus Andrews stood leaning over the headboard of the
bed watching every motion of the heaving breast of the dying President.
Robert Lincoln was supporting himself upon the arm of Senator Sumner.
The members of the Cabinet were standing by the side of the
bed—Secretary Stanton at the left of Mr. Andrews—Mr. Andrews near Mr.
Lincoln’s head. Next to him was Mr. Dennison, and the others arranged
along at his left, and the surgeons were sitting upon the side and foot
of the bed, holding the President’s hands, and with their watches
observing the slow declension of the pulse, and watching the faint ebb
of that noble spirit. Such was the solemn stillness for the duration of
five minutes that the ticking of many watches could be heard in the
room. At twenty-two minutes past seven, A. M., the soul of Abraham
Lincoln fled from its earthly tabernacle “to that bourne from which no
traveler returns.” As he drew his last breath the Rev. Dr. Gurley
addressed the Throne of Grace with a fervent prayer for his heart-broken
family and his mourning country.
Mrs. Lincoln sat in an adjoining room, hushing her tears and waiting
solemnly. When they told her in such tender words as pity finds for
grief, that her husband was dead, the growing stillness of her heart
gave way and she cried out in sudden anguish, “Oh, why did you not tell
me that he was dying?” Abraham Lincoln was dead, but scarcely had the
cold hand touched his features when over them dawned that gentle smile
which those who have seen him in his happiest moments will never forget.
Except the blackness of his eyes his face appeared perfectly natural. He
died without a struggle, or even a perceptible motion of the limbs. The
morning was calm, and the rain was dropping gently upon the roof of the
humble apartment where they had laid him down to die. Guards had been
stationed to keep the people from the house, and no sound could be heard
in the streets save the footsteps of the sentry passing to and fro, as
he guarded all that remained of Abraham Lincoln.
NATIONAL LAMENTATION. FUNERAL OF THE PRESIDENT.
The following dispatch, received in New York city on the morning of the
15th of April, announced to the country and to the world the death of
the President of the United States:—
“WAR DEPARTMENT, }
WASHINGTON, April 15, 1865. }
“To Major-General DIX, New York:—
“Abraham Lincoln died this morning at twenty-two minutes after seven
o’clock.
“EDWIN M. STANTON, Secretary of War.”
This grievous intelligence fell upon the heart of the Nation like the
storm which follows the thunderbolt. The fierce, mad excitement and
indignation which had fired the bosoms of all Americans at the news of
their beloved President having been struck down by the hand of an
assassin, was instantly followed by passionate grief and lamentation at
the speedy news of his death. A deep gloom hung over the whole North—a
gloom which might be compared to the dark clouds from whose bosoms flash
forth vivid streams of destroying fire. In every heart arose a stern
demand for retribution against the man who had bereaved a great nation
in destroying its leader. This feeling gave force and depth to the
mournfulness which fell solemnly on the land. In every city throughout
the North, in every village,—in every place where men dwelt, strangers
grasped each other by the hand, and with tear-wet eyes bewailed their
country’s loss; for the universal grief made all men feel their
universal fraternity. The whole country was draped in mourning. No man
was so poor that his sorrow did not show itself in some touching
acknowledgment of his country’s bereavement and his own sorrow. For
thirty days the emblems of mourning remained on every public building;
while flags heavily draped with crape were hung in the windows, or
streamed from the flagstaffs of thousands on thousands of private
dwellings.
The body of the martyred President lay in state at the White House for
four days, where, upon the 19th of April, the funeral services were
celebrated in every church throughout the North, and in most of the
Canadian cities. The ceremony at the White House being over, the
President’s remains were removed to the Capitol, where they lay in state
for two days. On the 21st they were placed within a handsome and grandly
imposing funeral car, and proceeded on their melancholy journey,
stopping a certain length of time at each of the following cities:
Baltimore, Harrisburg, Philadelphia, New York, Albany, Buffalo,
Cleveland, Columbus, Indianapolis, and Chicago; arriving in Springfield,
Illinois, at eight o’clock on the morning of May 3d. There—amid the
scenes that had witnessed his manly labors, his successful career, his
prosperity, his home affections, and his honorable progress in the
esteem of his fellow-workers and fellow-citizens, the good President was
laid down to his last earthly sleep. The love and the prayers of a whole
people followed him to his grave, and the veneration of posterity will
hallow it forever.
And there his countrymen shall come,
With memory proud, with pity dumb,
And strangers far and near,
For many and many a year.
For many a year and many an age,
While History on her ample page
The virtues shall enroll
Of that Paternal Soul.
SKETCH OF THE LIFE OF ABRAHAM LINCOLN.
BORN FEBRUARY 12, 1809. DIED APRIL 15, 1865.
Abraham Lincoln was born at Hodginville, Kentucky, on the 12th of
February, 1809. His parents were poor, and his youth was thus a youth of
labor. From the age of seven to that of nineteen, he worked on his
father’s farm—his parents having removed to Indiana, and subsequently
into Illinois. When nineteen years of age he left home and sought labor
on the Mississippi river, as a hired hand on a flatboat plying between
St. Louis and New Orleans. He subsequently built a similar vessel, which
he personally managed, in the river traffic. Until 1832 his life was a
continual struggle against adverse fortune, but it was prosecuted with a
strong heart and firm hand. In 1832 the Indian war with Black Hawk broke
out. Mr. Lincoln raised a company of volunteers in Menard county, Ill.,
and served through the war under General Samuel Whiteside.
The early career of Mr. Lincoln as a pioneer and in camp, had gradually
trained and formed his character for more active life. His prominence in
his county, as the former captain of a company, naturally gave him
additional influence at home, on his return from the war, and, after
beginning life as a lawyer, he soon became, also, a politician. In 1834,
at the age of twenty-five, he was elected on the whig ticket, to the
Illinois Legislature. In 1836, he was re-elected for a second term,
during which he avowed conservative principles on the subject of
slavery, and added much to his popularity by efforts to make Springfield
the capital of the State. He also won credit by his action as Chairman
of the Finance Committee in the Legislature. In 1846, after several
years of retirement from political life, during which he had established
himself as a highly successful lawyer, Mr. Lincoln was nominated for
Congress, and was elected by the largest vote ever given to a whig
candidate in his district. He served until 1849, and was active—in
connection with Seward, Chase and Giddings—in the agitation of the
Wilmot proviso, and in opposition to the Mexican war. From 1849 to 1854
he remained secluded at Springfield, taking, however, an active, though
not prominent part, in the organization of the republican party, and in
1856 he ardently supported its first candidates, Fremont and Dayton. He
had just been defeated in the Illinois Legislature for United States
Senator, and, except during the Presidential canvass for 1856, when he
was brought frequently in contact on the stump with Stephen A. Douglas,
he remained quiet in his office at Springfield until 1858, when he
became a candidate for Senator. During this canvass he made some of the
most remarkable speeches of his life. In 1860 he was elected President
of the United States.
On January 1st, 1863, President Lincoln declared in accordance with a
previous proclamation, the freedom of all the slaves in the rebellious
territory, a work which has since been consummated throughout all the
Union by act of the States and the Federal Congress.
In 1864, Mr. Lincoln was re-elected to the Presidency, and was duly
inaugurated, on the 4th of March, 1865. He will be remembered as long as
the history of the American Republic endures, as a good man, who labored
to do his duty, who bore the honors of a high station with meekness and
humility, and who guided his country through dreadful perils to a happy
and secure peace, upon the safe basis of democratic institutions.
THE ATTEMPT TO ASSASSINATE SECRETARY SEWARD.
APRIL 14, 1865.
While the murder of Abraham Lincoln was in progress at Ford’s Theatre,
another scene in the bloody tragedy was being enacted at the house of
the Secretary of State. Mr. Seward, suffering from severe injuries,
received shortly before by an accidental fall from his carriage, was
lying in his bed, sick, suffering, and helpless. Within the invalid’s
chamber all was sadness and gloom; for Mr. Seward’s life was the subject
of much uncertainty and anxious fear. About nine o’clock in the evening
the chamber of the Secretary was forcibly entered by a tall, muscular
man, whose face could hardly be distinguished beneath the broad and
drooping brim of his slouched hat, which was drawn over his brow. This
man was Lewis Payne,—who had been procured to murder the Secretary of
State, and who had effected his entrance into the house by stratagem,
and had forced his way from the street-door to Mr. Seward’s chamber,
pretending to be a messenger from the physician with medicine for Mr.
Seward. Payne had pushed past the servant who had admitted him, and met
with no opposition till he reached the Secretary’s door. There he was
confronted by Mr. Frederick Seward, with whom he had a moment’s parley
regarding his message to Mr. Seward; but finding that he could effect
nothing in that way he struck the Secretary’s son on the head with a
pistol, felling him to the floor, and crushing in his skull. Upon the
instant he burst into the Secretary’s room, rushed up to the bed, and
attacked the helpless, sick old man with a knife. Mr. Seward succeeded
in rolling out on the floor; but not until he had received many and
severe cuts about the throat and face.
All this had passed in so brief a time that not even a cry for help had
been raised. The terrified nurses raised screams of distress about half
a minute after the assassin’s entrance to the room, and a soldier,
followed by Major Seward, rushed into the apartment. The soldier at once
leaped upon the assassin, and tried to pull him backward; but Payne
turned upon him, and stabbing him in the side, contrived to break away.
He also struck and wounded Major Seward, and one of the attendants, who
precipitated themselves upon him, and in the dreadful confusion
following he succeeded in making his escape from the house.
THE INAUGURATION OF PRESIDENT JOHNSON.
On Saturday morning, April 15th, immediately after the death of
President Lincoln, the following communication was addressed to Hon.
Andrew Johnson, hitherto Vice-President of the Republic:
WASHINGTON CITY, April 15, 1865.
“SIR:—Abraham Lincoln, President of the United States, was shot by an
assassin last evening at Ford’s Theatre, in this city, and died at the
hour of twenty-two minutes after seven o’clock. About the same time at
which the President was shot, an assassin entered the sick chamber of
the Hon. W. H. Seward, Secretary of State, and stabbed him in several
places in the throat, neck and face, severely if not mortally wounding
him.—Other members of the Secretary’s family were also dangerously
wounded by the assassin while making his escape. By the death of
President Lincoln the office of President has devolved under the
Constitution upon you. The emergency of the Government demands that
you should immediately qualify according to the requirements of the
Constitution, and enter upon the duties of President of the United
States. If you will please make known your pleasure, such arrangements
as you deem proper will be made.
Your obedient servants,
HUGH MCCULLOCH, Secretary of the Treasury.
EDWIN M. STANTON, Secretary of War.
GIDEON WELLES, Secretary of the Navy.
WILLIAM DENNISON, Postmaster-General.
J. P. USHER, Secretary of the Interior.
JAMES SPEED, Attorney-General.
To ANDREW JOHNSON, Vice-President of the United States.”
[Illustration: ANDREW JOHNSON.]
Mr. Johnson requested that the ceremonies should take place at his rooms
at the Kirkwood House, in Washington, at ten o’clock on the morning of
the 15th.
The Hon. Salmon P. Chase, Chief-Justice, of the United States, was
notified of the fact, and desired to be in attendance to administer the
oath of office.
At the above-named hour the following gentlemen assembled in the
Vice-President’s room to participate in the ceremony: Hon. Salmon P.
Chase, the Hon. Hugh McCulloch, Secretary of the Treasury; Mr.
Attorney-General Speed; F. P. Blair, sr.; Montgomery Blair; Senators
Foot of Vermont, Yates of Illinois, Ramsay of Minnesota, Stewart of
Nevada, Hale of New Hampshire, and General Farnsworth, of Illinois.
After the presentation of the above letter, the Chief-Justice
administered the following oath to Mr. Johnson:
“I do solemnly swear that I will faithfully execute the office of
President of the United States, and will, to the best of my ability,
preserve, protect and defend the Constitution of the United States.”
After receiving the oath and being declared President of the United
States, Mr. Johnson remarked:
“Gentlemen: I must be permitted to say that I have been almost
overwhelmed by the announcement of the sad event which has so recently
occurred. I feel incompetent to perform duties so important and
responsible as those which have been so unexpectedly thrown upon me. As
to an indication of any policy which may be pursued by me in the
administration of the Government, I have to say that must be left for
development as the Administration progresses. The message or declaration
must be made by the acts as they transpire. The only assurance that I
can now give of the future is reference to the past. The course which I
have taken in the past in connection with this rebellion must be
regarded as a guarantee of the future. My past public life, which has
been long and laborious, has been founded, as I in good conscience
believe, upon a great principle of right, which lies at the basis of all
things. The best energies of my life have been spent in endeavoring to
establish and perpetuate the principles of free government, and I
believe that the government, in passing through its present perils, will
settle down upon principles consonant with popular rights, more
permanent and enduring than heretofore. I must be permitted to say, if I
understand the feelings of my own heart, I have long labored to
ameliorate and elevate the condition of the great mass of the American
people. Toil and an honest advocacy of the great principles of free
government have been my lot. The duties have been mine—the consequences
are God’s. This has been the foundation of my political creed. I feel
that in the end the government will triumph, and that these great
principles will be permanently established. In conclusion, gentlemen,
let me say that I want your encouragement and countenance. I shall ask
and rely upon you and others in carrying the government through its
present perils. I feel in making this request that it will be heartily
responded to by you and all other patriots and lovers of the rights and
interests of a free people.”
At the conclusion of the above remarks the President received the kind
wishes of the friends by whom he was surrounded. A few moments were
devoted to conversation. All were deeply impressed with the solemnity of
the occasion.
THE CLOSE OF SHERMAN’S CAMPAIGN. SURRENDER OF GENERAL JOHNSTON.