A Night of Horrors: A Historical Thriller about the 24 Hours of Lincoln's Assassination (26 page)

BOOK: A Night of Horrors: A Historical Thriller about the 24 Hours of Lincoln's Assassination
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General Augur’s headquarters were at the corner of Seventeenth and I Streets, just a couple of blocks north of Lafayette Square where Seward’s house was located. One of the officers on Augur’s staff, Captain Theodore McGowan, was at Ford’s Theatre earlier that night and watched Booth hand his card to Abraham Lincoln’s footman. McGowan had no idea that he was quietly watching the assassin of the President wile his way into Lincoln’s private box. He had immediately gone to find the General at home to inform him of the attack on the President and the two quickly learned about the fate of the Secretary and Assistant Secretary of State. Augur and his officers did not wait for formal orders from Secretary Stanton. Augur immediately detached soldiers to guard Seward’s house and he put the rest of his men on alert and ordered an investigation to begin. It wasn’t long before Augur’s office was flooded with men and women coming to provide testimony of what they’d witnessed that night. The General immediately put the seventy-two forts encircling the nation’s capital on alert, called the cavalry to mount, and put the infantry on guard. Augur issued orders for the exits from the city to be closed. His goal was to put units of soldiers and mounted cavalry out to patrol the streets of Washington City in a show of force to calm the nerves of the citizens who would naturally fear that the war was about to begin again in earnest. Though the orders were quick to be made, it took time for them to be relayed from garrison to garrison and to be telegraphed from fort to fort.

Edwin Stanton had given vent to his grief, but he had also given vent to the fears that he harbored in his heart. The scene at Seward’s house had almost unnerved him. The President, laying prone and near death on the bed in the room next to him, had caused his heart to break. But once he had allowed himself to weep, he had collected himself and set his mind to the work at hand. He holed up in the room next to where the President lay dying and got down to work. He would not become unhinged and he would not allow the Confederacy to steal away the victory that was in his grasp. Stanton had decided that he would take his grief and channel it into anger and allow his anger to drive him forward. The rest of the Cabinet, except William Seward, had collected at Petersen’s house over the past hour and with the President’s presence, albeit unconscious, this was now officially the Executive Mansion and the seat of power for the United States Government. Stanton controlled the most resources of anyone in the administration and he was not about to let another minute go by without taking action to prevent any further attacks on the Cabinet, the Capital, or his beloved leader. Stanton began to issue orders to be carried to officers around the country. He reinforced Auger’s orders to seal the city. He sent word to have the railroads from Washington to Baltimore stopped and searched. He alerted the officers in Virginia to watch for the assassins along the Potomac. He told the officers in West Virginia to watch at Harpers Ferry.

Stanton, once one of the most renowned trial attorneys in the country, set up a court of inquiry in the room where he sat. David Cartter, the Chief Justice of the District of Columbia Supreme Court, who accompanied him to the Petersen house served as the chief investigator. Britten Hill, an attorney, and Abram Olin, a former congressman from New York and a justice on the District of Columbia Supreme Court, were in the Petersen House. Stanton immediately made the other two men members of the de facto court. They began taking testimony almost immediately. Men and women filed in; the three men began to receive their testimony, capturing everything in long hand.

The process quickly became tedious. General Halleck, who was in the room with them, suggested that they take the testimony down in shorthand. General Augur, who had come to the Petersen House to check on the President and consult with Edwin Stanton, went out to ask the crowds outside the house if anyone knew where a phonographer could be found to take down the testimony in shorthand. A man standing on a balcony of the house next door told him that a James Tanner was a lodger in the Petersen House where the General stood and he was a phonographer. General Augur went to the second floor room and pounded on the door. Tanner had served in the 87
th
New York infantry for the Union army during the war. He had been severely injured in the Second Battle of Bull Run when a cannonball nearly severed his feet from his legs. As he was carried face-down on a stretcher from the field, he regained consciousness and looked underneath the stretcher and noticed his feet hanging by the skin from his legs. He called out that he was worried his feet would fall off, so the soldiers carrying him graciously placed his feet on the stretcher next to his legs.

James Tanner had gone to Grover’s National Theatre earlier in the night to see
Aladdin
. The show was very enjoyable and he was having a supremely good time. Suddenly, the whole thing came to a halt and a pale gentleman came onto the stage. It was the manager. He calmed the crowd and then announced that President Lincoln had been shot. There was a moment of stunned silence and then a young man screamed. Tanner and everyone else in the audience turned to see little Tad Lincoln, the President’s youngest son, break into tears at the news that his father had been shot. Tanner had left the theater and made his way home, only to discover that the President had been brought to the boarding house where he stayed. By coincidence, General Augur had escorted Tanner through the crowds, when he learned this man was a veteran of the war and could not get to his room because of the crowds filling the street between Petersen’s house and the Ford Theatre. Otherwise, he might have been out roaming the streets. Tanner had gone upstairs and was looking at the gathering crowd on the street below when someone pounded on his door. As Tanner walked toward the door, he assumed that the worst had happened and someone was going to tell him that President Lincoln had died in one of the rooms below.

“What is it?” He asked as he opened the door.

“Secretary Stanton is requesting your help in taking testimony.” Tanner, stunned, looked back at General Augur.

“Me?”

“Oh, it is you is it?” Augur replied recognizing the young man he’d helped through the crowd. “Yes, he needs a phonographer because it’s taking too long to write the witnesses’ testimony out. Come on.” He turned and left, expecting Tanner to follow. The phonographer was so dumbfounded that he forgot to grab a pen, inkstand, and paper. But when he walked into the room, he saw that a table was laid out before him with all of the necessary instruments. He glanced around the room, realizing that it was not only Secretary Stanton, but other members of the Cabinet in the room as well. Tanner blinked and felt his stomach lighten at the thought of serving along side all of these great men at such a time.

It was a little past midnight when Tanner settled himself into the chair and was ready to take down the testimony. He saw a paper in front of him that had ten or eleven lines of writing on it already. He scanned it quickly and realized it was testimony that had been taken in longhand. He simply skipped a line and began to take the testimony in shorthand.

The first man to speak was Alfred Cloughly. “I was walking through Lafayette Park when I heard screams coming from the Seward’s house. I immediately ran over to see what was the matter and saw a man come running from the house. He was screaming something, and he quickly got onto his horse. I immediately ran to the Seward’s, realizing that something terrible had happened. My first thought was to rush down to Ford’s Theatre to inform President Lincoln. On the way there, I discovered that Lincoln had been attacked as well. I was terribly afraid and rushed to Senator Conness’ house to tell him. When I got there I told both Senators Conness and Sumner, who was visiting Conness.”

 

Next were witnesses from Ford’s Theatre and Tanner soon began to write a recurring name: John Wilkes Booth. Harry Hawk, the only actor on the stage when Booth jumped from the President’s Box, at first said that he was “not positive” that it was Booth. But later in his short statement, he then said he did “not have any doubt but that it was Booth.” Tanner forced his mind to listen to the statements and capture them accurately in shorthand. The news was stunning—John Wilkes Booth, the actor, had shot the President of the United States—but Tanner had to focus and not let his mind wander on conjecture and fascination. James Ferguson was next to take the seat in front of Edwin Stanton.

“Major Eckert?” Stanton called out for the head of the Telegraph Office, interrupting the proceedings. When the Major came over, Stanton talked in a low voice and ordered him to inform General Grant of what had happened and to request his prompt reply so that he could be assured that his top general was safe. He also wanted Grant in the city as quickly and safely as he could be here. Eckert left the room and Stanton resumed his seat with a distracted look about him. As Justice Cartter was about to begin questioning James Ferguson the entire room went quiet. Through the open doorway came the sound of Abraham Lincoln’s labored breathing. It was stertorous and rasping. With each labored effort, each man in the room wondered if the President would have the strength to take another breath. Without meaning to, each man held his own breath, urging their leader to take another himself. The rasping sound continued for perhaps two minutes and then eased again. Without a word of acknowledgement, Cartter began taking James Ferguson’s statement.

“I own a restaurant next to Ford’s. Because my place is so close to the theater, I had become acquaintances with Wilkes Booth since he would often come by to eat when he was performing at the theater or picking up his mail. The Ford Brothers told me that both Lincoln and Grant would be at the play tonight, so I got tickets early to make sure I could attend as well. I had taken a seat opposite of the President’s Box, so I could look through my opera glasses directly into the President’s Box. I was looking at the President when the shot had been fired.

“As the second scene of the third act got underway, I noticed a man slowly moving across the back wall of the dressing circle. ‘That looks like Wilkes Booth,’ I thought. I recognized his face, but he was also wearing the coat I had seen him in when we’d spoken that afternoon when Booth had bragged about how fast his horse could gallop in front of the restaurant.

“I wondered what he was up to. Then I turned my attention back to the play. A few minutes later I saw one of the flags moving at the President’s box and held up my opera glasses to get a better view. As I looked through the glasses, I could see that Lincoln had pulled one of the flags back and was looking down at the orchestra section. With the flag pulled away, I had an excellent view at Lincoln’s face. It was creased and shrunken with care and I noticed his eyes looked bruised, the circles around his eyes were so dark. As I was looking through the opera glasses, I realized, with a start, that there was a man standing behind Lincoln. It was hard to make him out because he was dressed all in black. I leaned forward in my chair, saying to my lady friend, ‘There is a man in the box with the President!’ Just then the audience burst into laughter and I thought there was the discharge of a gun. A single pistol shot. Through the opera glasses, I saw Lincoln’s hands fly up into the air and then the box was enveloped with gun smoke.

“‘My God!’ I exclaimed lowering the glasses. In the next moment I saw the man in the black suit jump from the box to the stage. ‘Is that John Booth?’ I wondered. Then the sole figure on the stage limped to the center and looked at the audience and pronounced, “
Sic semper tyrannis!

“‘That’s Wilkes Booth,’ I said to my lady friend, staring down at the stage. Then, in horror, Booth locked eyes with me. I can still see the hazel eyes gleaming malevolently in the footlights,” he said closing his eyes to see them again. “He frightened me so much and I wasn’t sure what the crazed man might do next, I pushed my friend by the shoulder to the floor. Booth then exited to the back of the stage. And I remember there was a scream from the box.”

Henry Phillips, an actor-singer, was the next to give his statement. As he was getting settled into his chair, suddenly Mary Lincoln began wailing again. There were a set of folding doors that separated the parlor in which she sat and the small bedroom which Stanton had commandeered for his War Department headquarters. Stanton quickly became agitated as the shrill pitch of her wail increased in volume. Others in the room shook their heads and leaned over to whisper words of consolation about the First Lady to one another. Stanton simply became angry. He stood, held his hands together behind his back, paced behind the couch once or twice, and then strode from the room to look in on the President. But even there the room had become still as the piercing cries of the First Lady seemed to fill the entire house. Stanton exhaled loudly and then looked down at the President. There was no real change in his condition.

 
The front door opened and Stanton looked back down the hall from where he stood to see who was coming into the house. When he saw that it was Mrs. Dixon arriving to comfort Mary Lincoln he sighed again, but this time in relief. He tarried at Lincoln’s bedside long enough for the new burst of grief to be vented by Mary at the arrival of her friend, and she then quickly calmed down. As Stanton was walking back into the testimony room to resume taking the statements, he saw Clara Harris leaving the parlor where Mrs. Lincoln had been. She was carrying her coat.

“Are you leaving, Miss Harris?” He inquired, walking down the hallway towards her.

“Yes, Mr. Stanton. Mrs. Lincoln is horrified each time she looks at me. Who could blame her?” She motioned to the dried blood on her dress as she said this. “And I must go and check on Mr. Rathbone. He fainted away earlier from the loss of blood and one of the doctors took him to his house to bind up his wound. I want to sit with him and make sure to do what I can for him.”

BOOK: A Night of Horrors: A Historical Thriller about the 24 Hours of Lincoln's Assassination
8.53Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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