History That Doesn't Suck - 72: The Assassination of Abraham Lincoln

Episode Date: August 31, 2020

“Sic semper tyrannis!” This is the story of deception. Conspiracy. Assassination. The handsome, 26-year-old successful actor John Wilkes Booth has sympathized with the Confederacy since the war began. So when Abraham Lincoln wins reelection as President of the United States amid several crucial late-1864 victories, John becomes enraged. He decides to kidnap President Lincoln. But as John’s attempts at kidnapping fail, things go worse for the CSA. By April 1865, it’s over for the Confederacy. Then Lincoln says something in a speech that throws John completely over the edge: the gangly president suggests that the United States enact limited, black male suffrage. John’s ready to go far further than kidnapping. And so, on the night of April 14, the famous actor will take on the biggest, most consequential role of his life … at Washington City’s Ford Theatre. ____ Connect with us on HTDSpodcast.com and go deep into episode bibliographies and book recommendations join discussions in our Facebook community get news and discounts from The HTDS Gazette  come see a live show get HTDS merch or become an HTDS premium member for bonus episodes and other perks. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

What did it take to survive an ancient siege? Why was the cult of Dionysus behind so many slave revolts in ancient Rome? What's the tragic history and mythology behind Japan's most haunted ancient forest? We're Jen and Jenny from Ancient History Fangirl. Join us to explore ancient history and mythology from a fun, sometimes tipsy, perspective. Find us at ancienthistoryfangirl.com or wherever you get your podcasts. From the creators of the popular science show with millions of YouTube subscribers comes the MinuteEarth podcast. Every episode of the show dives deep into a science question you

might not even know you had, but once you hear the answer, you'll want to share it with everyone you know. Why do rivers curve? Why did the T-Rex have such tiny arms? And why do so many more kids need glasses now than they used to? Spoiler alert, it isn't screen time. Our team of scientists digs into the research and breaks it down into a short, entertaining explanation, jam-packed with science facts and terrible puns. Subscribe to MinuteEarth wherever you like to listen. Welcome to History That Doesn't Suck. I'm your professor, Greg Jackson, and as in the classroom, my goal here is to make rigorously researched history come to life as your storyteller. Each episode is the result of laborious research,

with no agenda other than making the past come to life as you learn. If you'd like to help support this work, receive ad-free episodes, bonus content, and other exclusive perks, I invite you to join the HTDS membership program. Sign up for a seven-day free trial today at htdspodcast.com slash membership or click the link in the episode notes. It's late 1864. Abraham Lincoln has won a second term. Confederate cities are falling left and right.

The CSA is against the ropes, and a 26-year-old Marylander is determined to remedy that. Now this young man is already helping the Confederacy. God knows the high wages his theatrical talents command on stages from Boston to Washington City have bought plenty of quinine for the rebels. His Union loyal sister has noted the calluses on his hands from personally rowing across the Potomac

to smuggle the valuable medicine south. But the metaphorical hour is late. It's time for a move of far greater proportions. The Confederacy needs more men, and since the Union refuses to carry out prisoner exchanges as long as Confederate leaders refuse to return black POWs, the handsome, mustachioed, pale-skinned actor with jet black hair has come up with a bold plan. He'll kidnap the one man for whom the U.S. would have to exchange thousands of Confederate soldiers,

President Abraham Lincoln. Amid his preparations, recruiting accomplices, and meeting with the Confederate Secret Service, he's also writing a letter. It's undated, but should his kidnapping plot fail, this manifesto will, he believes, explain, no, justify his actions. The letter is self-contradicting at times and full of dramatic flair you might expect from one who spends his life on stage. Let's read over his shoulder as the ink flows from fountain pen to paper.

To whom it may concern, right or wrong, God judge me, not man. For be my motive good or bad, of one thing I am sure, the lasting condemnation of the North. I love peace more than life, have loved the Union beyond expression. For four years have I waited, hoped, and prayed for the dark clouds to break and for a restoration of our former sunshine.

To wait longer would be a crime. All hope for peace is dead. My prayers have proved as idle as my hopes. God's will be done. I go to see and share the bitter end. I have ever held the South were right.

The very nomination of Abraham Lincoln four years ago spoke plainly war. War upon southern rights and institutions. His election proved it. Oh wait, an overt act. Yes, till you are bound and plundered. What folly. The South was wise. Who thinks of argument or patience when the finger of his enemy presses on the trigger? People of the North, to hate tyranny, to love liberty and justice, to strike at wrong and oppression, was the teaching of our fathers. The study of our early history will not let me forget it, and may it never. This country was formed for the white, not for the black man. And looking upon African slavery from the same standpoint held by the noble framers of our constitution, I for one have ever considered

it one of the greatest blessings, both for themselves and us, that God has ever bestowed upon a favored nation. Witness heretofore our wealth and power. Witness their elevation and enlightenment above their race elsewhere. I have lived among it most of my life and have seen less harsh treatment from master to man than I have beheld in the north from father to son. Yet, heaven knows, no one would be willing to do more for the Negro race than I, could I but see a way to still better their condition.

But Lincoln's policy is only preparing the way for their total annihilation. The South are not, nor have they been fighting for the continuance of slavery. The first battle of Bull Run did away with that idea. Their cause since for war have been as noble and greater far than those that urged our fathers on. Even should we allow they were wrong at the beginning of this contest, cruelty

and injustice have made the wrong become the right. And they stand now as a noble band of patriotic heroes. Hereafter, reading of their deeds, Thermopylae will be forgotten. When I aided in the capture and execution of John Brown, I was proud of my little share in the transaction, for I deemed it my duty and that I was helping our common country to perform an act of justice. But what was a crime in poor John Brown is now considered as the greatest and only virtue of the whole Republican Party. Strange transmigration.

Vice to become a virtue, simply because more indulge in it. The South can make no choice. It is either extermination or slavery for themselves to draw from. I know my choice. I have also studied hard to discover upon what grounds the right of a state to secede has been denied when our very name, United States, and the Declaration of Independence both provide for secession.

But there is no time for words. I write in haste. Alas, poor country, is she to meet her threatened doom? Four years ago, I would have given a thousand lives to see her remain powerful and unbroken. And even now, I would hold my life as

not to see her what she was. Oh, my friends, if the fearful scenes of the past four years had never been enacted, or if what has been had been but a frightful dream from which we could now awake, with what overflowing hearts could we bless our God and pray for his continued favor. How I have loved the old flag can never be known. A few years since and the entire world could boast of none so pure and spotless. But I have of late been seeing and hearing of the bloody deeds of which she has been made the emblem and would shudder to think how changed she has grown. Oh, how I have longed to see her break from the mist of blood and death that circles round her folds, spoiling her beauty and tarnishing her honor. But no, day by day has she been dragged deeper and deeper into

cruelty and oppression till now, in my eyes, her once bright red stripes look like bloody gashes on the face of heaven. I look now upon my early admiration of her glories as a dream. My love is for the South alone, nor do I deem it a dishonor in attempting to make for her a prisoner of this man to whom she owes so much of misery. A confederate doing duty upon his own responsibility. J. Wilkes Booth. Welcome to History That Doesn't Suck. I'm your professor, Greg Jackson, and I'd like to tell you a story. John Wilkes Booth might not succeed at kidnapping Lincoln,

but it won't be for lack of trying, as plans to do so, first on January 18th, and then on March 17th, 1865, both go awry. But laying the groundwork of John's would-be abductions are mere prelude to this episode's real story. Today, I bear the melancholy burden of regaling you with the tale of the assassination of President Abraham Lincoln.

We'll start with his return to Washington City amid General Robert E. Lee's surrender at Appomattox, then follow the old rail splitter through his last six days before attending a performance of Our American Cousin at Ford's Theater. Then comes the sinister deed itself. But the story won't end there.

We'll cover the aftermath, from what becomes of his murderer to the long journey ahead before the gangly president's body finally gets to rest in peace. It's been a while since I've said this, but I'm telling you now, grab some tissues, because it's definitely going to be one of those episodes. Here we go. It's late Sunday night, April 9th, 1865. President Lincoln just got back to Washington City today from a two-week visit

with General Ulysses S. Grant's army in Virginia. But it's around 9 p.m. that the War Department receives a telegram from Ulysses conveying what the Illinois rail splitter had hoped to hear while in the Old Dominion. Earlier that afternoon, Bobby Lee surrendered the Army of Northern Virginia. The next day, Monday, April 10th, D.C. erupts in celebration, somewhat literally. First thing in the morning, War Secretary Edwin Stanton fires off a 500-gun salute that shatters windows in Lafayette Square and shakes the very ground itself.

Edwin's wake-up salute is the start of an impromptu holiday full of American flags and the sounds of bells, guns, cries of joy, bands playing. In short, it's the block party of the century. Thousands gather at the White House to share in their celebrations with the president. They spill across the lawns, under the North Portico and beyond. They go crazy cheering when little 12-year-old Tad Lincoln peeks out of a second story window waving a confederate flag, likely surrendered by a confederate unit while he and his parents were in Virginia last week. A band plays, the people sing, and many call out for the president to make a speech. Lincoln's got a speech in the works. The last thing he wants to do, though, is fire it off early and half-baked.

Still, he's got an idea, possibly inspired by the sight of Tad with the rebel banner. He approaches the window. I am very greatly rejoiced to find that an occasion has occurred so pleasurable that the people cannot restrain themselves. The crowd goes wild. The president continues. I have always thought Dixie one of the best tunes I have ever heard. Our adversaries over the way attempted to appropriate it,

but I insisted yesterday that we fairly captured it. Oh, how the crowd eats that line up, well as his closing joke i presented the question to the attorney general and he gave it as his legal opinion that it is our lawful prize i now request the band to favor me with its performance and with that the band strikes up Dixie, which it chases down with a vibrant rendition of Yankee Doodle. Following the two tunes that have defined both sides of the war, the crowd has been sufficiently amused by their quick-witted president and disperses. Let's pause and dissect this scene for just a second, though. As Lincoln's mind turns from war to rebuilding the nation,

that is, reconstruction, he's trying to seize on opportunities for reconciliation. As he told the Marquis de Chambran two days ago while discussing the song, it is good to show the rebels that with us they will be free to hear it again. The Frenchman will later question the American president's kindness, yet he'll also express admiration for the generous impetus of a victor prone to forgiveness that abides in Lincoln. But don't mistake Lincoln's kindness for softness on Reconstruction. If the rail splitter has proven anything to us throughout his presidency, it's that he's slow and cautious to move, yet firm when he does. His tender heart is matched by an iron will to stand his ground against Confederates and

political foes, those outside and inside his party alike. None of this has changed. He may still be thinking through Reconstruction, but Lincoln remains no pushover. This is apparent in his address the following day, Tuesday, April 11th. Washington City is still in full-on celebration mode. Like yesterday, a crowd forms outside the White House, and once again, people are calling on their executive to speak. The gaunt president appears at the second-story window under the White House's North Portico. Thunderous applause and cheers erupt. Unlike yesterday, though, there will be no stalling. Today, he's ready to give his thoughts.

Noah Brooks will hold up a reading light, and little Tad will snatch up the pages his father intentionally lets fall to the ground as the careful and firm president reads his speech verbatim to avoid anyone, friend and foe alike, from misinterpreting. We meet this evening not in sorrow, but in gladness of heart, he opens. Lincoln then mentions, a call for national Thanksgiving is being prepared. He may have already called for a day of national Thanksgiving to be held on the last Thursday of November back in 1863, a call that surely has church and state separatist Thomas Jefferson rolling over in his grave.

But this will be another special, singular day of thanks. He then quickly gets to the topic really weighing on his mind, post-war reconstruction. He focuses much of his attention on the already under-reconstruction state of Louisiana. Many, perhaps radicals in particular, are frustrated by Reconstruction in the Pelican State. It has lackluster voter participation, nor did its new constitution enfranchise black men. But Lincoln offers a defense. He points out that the state legislature has ratified the slavery-banning 13th Amendment and is providing public schools for Americans, white and black.

In a word, Lincoln's message is patience with the process. His old country lawyer ways come out as he uses a farm analogy to argue for allowing the state to continue developing. Concede that the new government of Louisiana is only to what it should be as the egg is to the fowl. We shall sooner have the fowl by hatching the egg than by smashing it. Extrapolating from what Lincoln is saying, it's fair to say his vision of reconstruction

would restore civil governments and democracy with a fair degree of leniency. But the rail splitter isn't giving it away. He also expects real, substantive changes. Lincoln's disappointed that Louisiana has not yet given the vote to some black men, and this he hopes to see change. He won't go as far as the radicals who want all black men to have the vote. But Lincoln does, in this moment, become the first U.S. president to call, even if in a limited capacity, for black suffrage. Speaking of black men receiving the vote, he proclaims, I would, myself, prefer that it were now conferred on the very intelligent and on those who served our cause as soldiers. Many in the crowd approve of what they're hearing, but not John Wilkes Booth.

The actor, with belaying good looks, is present, listening, with two of his fellow failed would-be presidential kidnappers, and those words bring his blood to a boil. That means n***a citizenship. That is the last speech he will ever make," he says. John begs his co-conspirator, a tall, swarthy-skinned, square-jawed Confederate veteran named Lewis Powell, to pull his gun and shoot Lincoln on the spot mid-speech. Lewis refuses, but John is hell-bent on his path. After months of contemplating a presidential kidnapping, his mind has turned to murder. John mutters,

by God, I'll put him through. The following day, Wednesday, April 12th, Lincoln and his cabinet discuss Reconstruction. Specifically, Reconstruction in Virginia. In brief, the cabinet fears Lincoln as being too trusting. Last week, he gave his blessing to the Virginia legislature to meet, with the understanding they would vote to rescind secession. Attorney General James Speed, as well as War and Navy secretaries Edwin Stanton and Gideon Wells, aka Mars and Neptune, express grave concerns about this. Lincoln is his own man, but not one to ignore his

advisors. Furthermore, word is coming in that these legislating Confederate Virginians are already starting to push the bounds given them. With these combined factors, the president's had enough. He goes to the War Department and dictates a telegram to General Godfrey Weitzel, instructing him to rescind the permission previously granted to the Old Dominion's legislature. Poor Lincoln. He's trying to proceed carefully, generously, yet justly with Reconstruction. That's a tough needle to thread, and he feels it.

The weight of it all is apparent in the conversation he has with Edwin Stanton as the War Secretary tries to resign. Now, the details are lacking. There's more than one version of how this chat goes. And while I would guess it happens today during Lincoln's visit to the War Department, it might have been any day this week. Anyhow, with the war over,

Edwin feels it his duty to resign. The rail splitter is touched at his sense of duty, but won't have it. He needs Mars. According to Edwin, Lincoln grabs him gently by the shoulders and says, Stanton, you cannot go. Reconstruction is more difficult and dangerous than construction or destruction. You have been our main reliance. You must help us through the final act. Damn. And to think, that call to action on reconstruction

is one of the last things Lincoln will ever say to his beloved Mars. You can imagine how that will stick with and impact Edwin. And yes, that is foreshadowing for a future episode or two. Thursday, April 13th, brings yet more celebration, particularly as Ulysses S. Grant and his wife, Julia, arrive in Washington City. Bells, guns, flags, I mean, you know the drill at this point in this days-long

celebration. Ulysses spends hours with Edwin Stanton as they discuss an end to recruiting and cuts to military spending and staff. I seriously wonder if two individuals have ever been happier to see their own department cut. Their wives, Julia Grant and Ellen Stanton, joined them that afternoon. And Julia can't help but note how happy Edwin is. The usual grump can't hide his joy, not even behind that massive long beard of

his. The war secretary even hosts a party that evening at his home. Bands play as they watch fireworks that night on the front steps. What a great evening. How jarring from what the mood will be tomorrow night. while it's team of nerds, personal finance experts in credit cards, banking, investing, and more. We answer your real-world money questions and break down the latest personal finance news. The Nerds will give you the clarity you need by cutting through the clutter and misinformation in today's world of personal finance. We don't promote get-rich-quick schemes or hype unrealistic side hustles. Instead, we offer practical knowledge that you can apply in your everyday life. You'll learn about strategies to help you build your wealth, invest wisely, shop for financial Thank you. and get insights that can help you make the smartest financial decisions for your life. Listen to NerdWallet's Smart Money Podcast wherever you get your podcasts.

When Johan Rall received the letter on Christmas Day 1776, he put it away to read later. Maybe he thought it was a season's greeting and wanted to save it for the fireside. But what it actually was, was a warning, delivered to the Hessian colonel, letting him know that General George Washington was crossing the Delaware and would soon attack his forces. The next day, when Raw lost the Battle of Trenton and died from two colonial Boxing Day musket balls, the letter was found, unopened in his vest pocket. As someone with 15,000 unread emails in his inbox, I feel like there's a lesson there.

Oh well, this is The Constant, a history of getting things wrong. I'm Mark Chrysler. Every episode, we look at the bad ideas, mistakes, and accidents that misshaped our world. Find us at ConstantPodcast.com or wherever you get your podcasts. It's now Friday. Good Friday, in fact. April 14th. Lincoln is just so happy. Life is good,

and his joy at peace knows no bounds. As he's having breakfast with his son, Robert, who's currently an assistant adjutant general of volunteers with the rank of captain, the gangly president comments, well, my son, you have returned safely from the front. The war is now closed, and we soon will live in peace with the brave men that have been

fighting against us. His cabinet sees it too when they and Ulysses Grant meet with Lincoln later that morning. They have some disagreements on reconstruction, which is fine. Lincoln didn't form the cabinet he has for initial agreement. He doesn't do yes-men. He appreciates its members' different perspectives on such serious issues. The president has come to appreciate that he can't trust the seceded state governments, but he also knows, we can't undertake to run the state governments in all these southern states. As such, they discuss Edwin's plan for military governors.

Navy Secretary Gideon Wells doesn't like the idea of Virginia and North Carolina under one single military governor. But through all the yet-to-be-decided discussion, Lincoln looks engaged, sharp, and happy, rather than disheveled. Like he doesn't have time to think of something as mundane as his clothes. Edwin can see the cheerfulness in Lincoln as the hopeful executive speaks kindly of Bobby Lee and other Confederates, some of whom he hopes will flee the country and spare the nation the trauma of worrying about treason trials. Didn't our chief look grand today? Edwin asks Attorney General James Speed as they walk out of the cabinet meeting. Lincoln's great mood follows

him through the afternoon. Assistant Secretary of War Charles Dana witnesses this when he comes to see the president in his office. Hello, Dana! The rail splitter exclaims. The Assistant War Secretary then explains they have intel that high-level Confederate Jacob Thompson is fleeing the country for England. Edwin Stanton wants to arrest him, but given Lincoln's comments on letting Confederates run, they thought it better to check first. Well, I rather think not, he answers.

When you've got an elephant by the hind leg and he's trying to run away, it's best to let him run. Around three o'clock, Lincoln does something he's rarely done in a good long while. He enjoys an open carriage ride with his wife, Mary. She can see the joy in him too. Dear husband, you almost startle me by your great cheerfulness, she says. I may feel so, Mary, Burgant's husband replies.

Mary, I consider this day the war has come to a close. We must both be more cheerful in the future. Between the war and the loss of our darling Willie, we have both been very miserable. What a beautiful thought. And what future the first couple envisions. They reminisce about Springfield. They have plans to travel.

You know, like so many of us hope to in retirement. See Europe. The Holy Land. Maybe make it out west to California. Such great dreams ahead. After the ride, Lincoln chats and reads happily with friends at the White House. He's having a blast,

but has to cut the visit for an early dinner. He and Mary have plans to see the hit comedy, Our American Cousin, at Ford's Theater. DC's fellow power couples won't accompany them. The Grants left the city this afternoon to go visit their kids in New Jersey, a trip made partly to get out of going. Between you and me, Julia Grant doesn't love Mary Lincoln's company. The Sewards physically can't. William Henry is still bedridden after his terrible carriage accident last week. As for the Stantons, no way. Serious-minded

Edwin hates the theater. Further, he, like many of Lincoln's advisors, thinks it's a terrible, unnecessary risk for the president to go to such places, perhaps especially when the newspapers have announced he'll be there, like tonight. Oh, and like Julia, Ellen Stanton would rather not hang with Mary. Lincoln also invited Thomas Eckert of the War Department. He joked at the time that the powerfully built telegrapher could be his bodyguard, but Thomas won't be coming either. He's working. Only Major Henry Rathbone and his fiancée, Clara Harris, whose father is Senator Ira Harris, will join the first couple. They arrive late, around 8.30, but the audience has no complaints. The orchestra interrupts the production, playing Hail to the Chief.

Cheers and applause erupt as eyes are drawn to the presidential box some 15 feet above stage left. The tall, gangly rail splitter steps up to the railing, which is decorated with U.S. flags and a framed portrait of George Washington. Lincoln waves, bows, and smiles. He then settles into his rocking chair to enjoy the show, utterly unaware that, around this same time, John Wilkes Booth is meeting with co-conspirators. They are finalizing a plan to create so much havoc, they hope the Confederacy might still be salvaged.

And that plan is to assassinate Vice President Andrew Johnson, Secretary of State William Henry Seward, and Lincoln himself, simultaneously, at.15 tonight. It's the night of April 14th, sometime in the 9 o'clock hour. George Atzrott sits at the bar in the Kirkwood House. The goatee-wearing, thick-accented German immigrant has a room here to get close to another hotel occupant, his target, VP Andrew Johnson. But George has reservations. This wasn't the original plan when he signed on with John Wilkes Booth months before.

Back then, it was to kidnap Lincoln, not to commit a triple murder. But John pressured him in their 8 o'clock meeting tonight to assassinate Andrew. And he agreed. At 10.15, he's to go to suite 68, ring the bell, then shoot dead the Tennessean. Good God, he doesn't want to do it. How did it come to this? The clock strikes 10. 15 minutes to go. I'll bet he's sick to his stomach. No, George tells himself. He won't do it. He can't do it. George gets up and exits the Kirkwood house. There will be no attempt on Andrew's life tonight. It's just past 10 p.m. Lewis Powell presents himself at the Seward home. The Confederate vet, the same whom John Wilkes urged to shoot Lincoln mid-speech days before,

tells the servant who answers that he's brought medicine for Secretary of State William Henry Seward. It's a plausible story. William Henry does have a broken jaw and dislocated shoulder from his recent carriage accident. Despite the servant's protestations, Lewis insists he can't hand this medicine off. He must deliver it in person. Pressing past the young servant, Lewis is soon upstairs. But William Henry's son, Assistant Secretary of State Fred Seward, stops him. My father is asleep. Give me the medicine and the directions. I will take them to him, he says. Lewis knows Fred won't back down.

His disguise will get him no further. The Confederate feigns leaving, then quickly draws a revolver and fires at Fred. It misfires, so Lewis leaps at his opponent and beats him with the gun, cracking his skull so badly Fred's brains are visible. The sound of Fred's thrashing draws the attention of Fanny Seward and Private George Robinson, both of whom are sitting with and watching over William Henry as he sleeps.

George opens the door to see Lewis, tall and powerful, coming right toward him. The intruder slashes George across the forehead with a bowie knife, then advances on the Secretary of State. Fanny begs the stranger, please, not to kill her father. He gives no heed as he swings his blade at William Henry, slashing the convalescent man's neck and face and knocking him off the bed in the process. Fanny screams, at which point her other brother, Gus, enters the unexpected melee. He and George fight Louis together, but it's a standstill until Gus goes to grab his gun.

Louis realizes his advantage will be lost, and with that, he flees. Louis slashed Gus and George, beat Fred's brains out, and slashed William Henry. Medical doctor Verdi is soon on the scene. All of this, the work of one man, the exasperated doctor will later note. Yet despite the seriousness of these combined injuries, all these men will live. The Lincolns are enthralled as they watch Our American Cousin. Mary's hand rests on Lincoln's knee,

and she draws close. She wonders if she's engaging in a bit too much PDA. What will Miss Harris think of my hanging on you so? She whispers to her husband, referencing the engaged couple with them. Lincoln smiles warmly and answers, She won't think anything about it. It's 10, 12 p.m.

Policeman John Parker isn't at his post. Only presidential footman Charles Forbes guards Lincoln's box. A well-dressed, handsome man presents the footman with his card. Wow! John Wilkes Booth, the famous actor! Charles lets the legendary star ride in. Don't know the manners of good society, huh? Well, I guess I know enough to turn you inside out, old gal. You sock-dologizing old man-trap.

John's bullet enters the back of the unsuspecting president's head. Henry Rathbone lunges at John, but the famous actor answers by slashing the major across the chest with a hunting knife. The actor now places one hand on the box's railing and leaps out. It isn't graceful. One of John's spurs gets caught in the flags and possibly nicks the framed portrait of

George Washington decorating the front of the presidential box. He crashes down on stage, possibly breaking his left leg just above the ankle as he lands on his hands and knees. Rising painfully, John holds his hunting knife up high and yells out, Sic semper! Tyrannis! That's Latin for thus always to tyrants. It's also Virginia's state motto. The actor then hobbles or dashes off, witnesses don't agree on which, escaping out the theater's back.

The audience doesn't even know what to make of this. Is this part of the show? Then Mary's pained voice cuts through the still air. They have shot the president! They have shot the president! News and confusion of the plot quickly spreads. Messengers tell Edwin Stanton and Gideon Wells that Lincoln's been shot and William Henry Seward assassinated. They both arrive at the Seward home about the same time.

The blood-stained aftermath of the attack is unreal, but it's relieving to find the Secretary of State alive. Mars and Neptune then make their way to the theater, where they find the fading president has been carried across the street to the Peterson boarding house. Mary sends word of what's happened to her son, Robert. The young Captain Lincoln, John Hay,

and Senator Charles Sumner all share a carriage heading straight to the scene. What about 12-year-old Tad Lincoln? Oh, that my little Taddy might see his father before he died! Mary exclaims. Hoping to spare him some suffering, they don't send for the emotional child, but cruel fate would have him know anyway.

The child is watching a performance of the play Aladdin at Grove's theater when the manager interrupts to announce the president has been shot. Tad runs out of the theater, sobbing, screaming. Tom Penn! Tom Penn! They've killed Papa dead! They've killed Papa dead! He cries to the White House doorkeeper, Thomas Pendle.

As for Mary herself, she's in and out of Lincoln's room and parlor through the night. She tells unconscious Lincoln to take her with him. She doesn't even want to live without him. Countless mourners gather outside the Peterson boarding house. Throughout the night, Edwin is in full war secretary mode. He organizes a manhunt and telegraphs important figures like Ulysses S. Grant, who's requested to return to DC.

The general is shook to the core. It's Saturday morning, April 15th. The president's long body lays diagonally on the bed. As the sun rises, Lincoln's breathing indicates he's going. Mary is so overcome she faints. Take that woman out and do not let her in again, Edwin instructs. She will never see her husband alive again. Reverend Phineas D. Gurley leads those present in prayer.

Then, at 7.22 a.m., it becomes clear. Abraham Lincoln, the Kentucky-born, Illinois rail splitter, self-taught lawyer, and uniter of peoples who held malice toward none, is dead. Edwin Stanton breaks the silence. Now, he belongs to the ages, we believe, he says. And in this moment, even the cool-headed war secretary can no longer contain himself. Like everyone in the room, Mars weeps. That's a hard scene to move on from. But we still have unanswered questions.

What of Lincoln's killer? Where is John Wilkes Booth? Or his co-conspirators? To get these answers, we need to go back to March 15th, meet John and his accomplices, and hear how their plan to bring down the union came about. Rewind. It's March 15th at Godier's Restaurant on Pennsylvania Avenue in Washington, D.C. A group of six men sit in a private room, eating a late meal and talking in low voices.

John Wilkes Booth leads the conversation. The handsome, mustachioed actor sits with Lewis Powell and George Atzrott, who we've already met, John Surratt, whose mother runs a well-known boarding house here in town, and Michael O'Loughlin and Samuel Arnold. The only one missing from this inner circle of conspirators is round-faced Davy Harold. But John and the others make plans anyway.

Here's the deal. John has been circling around the idea of kidnapping Lincoln since last year's election. He failed once and is chomping at the bit to try again. So he and his co-conspirators have just scoped out Ford's Theater on 10th Street. Lincoln often attends shows there. With John's inside knowledge and connections to the theater, it makes the perfect place to snatch the president and hold him for the exchange of Confederate POWs. Surratt tells us, quote, After some difficulty,

everything was amicably arranged and we separated at five o'clock in the morning. Close quote. Now all they have to do is wait for Lincoln to go to a show.

But nearly a month later, John is still waiting. I guess the president of a country at war with itself doesn't go to the theater that much. As Bobby Lee surrenders

to Ulysses at Appomattox and the fighting comes to an end, John's plan grows from kidnapping to assassination. And that's why, on April 11th, when John, Davey, and Lewis are standing on the White House lawn listening to Lincoln speak, the Confederate-sympathizing actor makes more than an idle threat. Remember what John says after hearing Lincoln wax eloquent on Reconstruction. That is the last speech he will ever make. By God, I'll put him through. Only three days later, John sees an opportunity to go through with his long-anticipated plan.

A little after 10 a.m. on Friday, April 14th, John goes to Ford's Theater to pick up his mail. See, the actor doesn't actually have a permanent address, so he has his fan mail as well as his bills and personal letters sent here. While at the front desk, John overhears a messenger requesting that two upper-level theater boxes be reserved for President Lincoln, General Grant, and their guests. Like the soldier he never was, John jumps into action. Across the afternoon, the actor runs several important errands,

like renting a horse for getaway transport. While John's out on Pennsylvania Avenue, a carriage rolls by with Ulysses and Julia Grant inside. If Ulysses and Julia will be at the theater tonight, why are they riding toward the train station right now? The curious actor mounts his horse and chases down the carriage. Julia describes, quote, we were nearing the railway station when a man overtook us, drew alongside, and

leaning down, peered into our carriage. Then he wheeled his horse and rode furiously away, close quote. John seems to have confirmed that the Grants won't be at Ford's Theater tonight. But that information doesn't distract him. At eight o'clock, John meets with Lewis, George, and Davey to hand out the final assignments. It's time to put his plot to assassinate the president and leave the United States government leaderless into motion. While Lewis, Davey, and George go after their targets, John heads to the theater. At 9 p.m., John leads his horse down Baptist Alley. That leads to the rear stage door of the theater.

John knows this area like the back of his hand and doesn't attract any attention to himself. He knocks on the northeast back door and stagehand Edmund Spangler opens it for him. Edmund knows John, so when the charming actor asks Edmund to hold his horse for a minute while he grabs something inside, Edmund doesn't think twice. The stagehand gets the theater's peanut seller, Joseph Burroughs, to hold the horse while he and John step inside. Edmund gets back to work and John finds the trap door that leads to the basement under the stage. The play has just started and John doesn't want to disturb it. Yet. He quietly walks on the

dirt path under the stage coming up on the opposite side. He leaves by the south side exit and heads to the saloon next door to wait for his moment. Now he's in the perfect place to enter the theater from the front while his horse waits at the back. Easy entrance, easy escape. At 10 o'clock, John leaves his whiskey on the bar and exits the saloon. He walks to Ford's Cooley, enters the front lobby, and makes his way upstairs to the dress circle on the second floor. It's crowded. The actors on stage are playing to a packed house tonight. John wends his way through sitting and standing theater patrons towards the president's box. A Union Army captain, Theodore McGowan, sits in John's path. Theodore later recalls, I was sitting in the aisle, leading by the wall toward the door of the president's box,

when a man came and disturbed me in my seat, causing me to push my chair forward to permit him to pass. Theater watches as John enters the president's theater box, but doesn't register the danger his commander-in-chief is in now. You know what happens next. As the theater patrons and actors take in the fact that President Lincoln has just been shot, John Wilkes Booth makes his getaway. He dashes off the stage toward the northeast door where his horse is waiting for him.

One witness says, quote, He ran with lightning speed across the stage and disappeared beyond the scenes. The whole occurrence, the shot, the leap, the escape, was done while you could count eight." Close quote. Well, maybe. Another witness claims John limped painfully, like the hopping of a frog.

Either way, John charges out the back door, taking his horse and theater hand, Joseph Burroughs, by complete surprise. The assassin bashes Joseph on the head with the butt of his knife. While Joseph grasps his head in pain, John gallops into the darkness. One quick side note. It's worth pointing out that John claims he broke his left leg as he jumped onto the stage. If that's the case, he runs out of the theater,

mounts his horse and rides away with a broken leg. But historian Michael Kaufman doesn't believe John's version. He claims that John will break his leg when his horse trips and rolls over on him a few miles outside the city. We can't know for sure who's right. All I can tell you is that John has a broken left leg by the next morning. But let's not get ahead of ourselves. A little disheveled from a hard ride, John meets up with Davy Harold on Soppers Hill about eight miles southeast of Washington, D.C.

Davy was supposed to help Lewis Powell attack Secretary of State Seward, but left Lewis on his own. The strong-jawed young man doesn't volunteer that info to John. The two head south, hoping to outrun anyone who might come looking for them. At 4 a.m., John's leg is definitely broken. So he and Davy stop at the home of Dr. Samuel Mudd. Now, Sam has met John before, but it's been a while, and John looks terrible. He's traveled all night, been thrown from his before, but it's been a while, and John looks terrible. He's traveled all night, been thrown from his horse and broken his leg. So we can almost believe that Sam isn't lying when he later tells authorities that he doesn't know his middle-of-the-night patient is John Wilkes Booth.

Almost. Sam sets John's broken left fibula, without question, and orders the patient to get some rest. Then the young doctor goes about his business like any other Saturday. But Sam's wife, Frankie, thinks it's a little suspicious that John asks for a razor and shaves off his very noticeable handlebar mustache in the early afternoon. Does she suspect that her houseguest might be a part

of the now widely publicized assassination? John and Davy don't sit around, waiting to find out. They continue their journey south that evening, getting help along the way from a well-connected chain of Confederate sympathizers. John takes time to write his thoughts about murdering Lincoln in his small memo book. But he wants to know what people think of him. One afternoon, a local named Thomas Jones brings John and Davy some food.

John asks him, what does the world beyond this swamp think? Thomas has a few newspapers that will answer John's question. The St. Louis Republican declares, quote, God only knows what incentive impelled this devil to the commission of this horrid and damning crime.

But one thing is certain, no man has ever been so effectually damned to everlasting fame as J. Wilkes Booth, the perpetrator of this cowardly, dastardly crime. Close quote. This angers John, who sees himself as a brave liberator. He defends himself in his journal. I struck boldly and not as the papers say,

but there's no time to brood. With plenty of help from locals who give them food, shelter, and rides, John and Davy cross the Potomac River and make it another 15 miles south to the banks of the Rappahannock River in the morning hours of April 24th. And here at Port Conway, Virginia, John and

Davey run into a huge stroke of luck. Up until now, the two men have been relying on the strength of their connections and the very much intact Confederate sympathizer information train. But on the afternoon of April 24th, John and Davey happen upon three friendly, paroled Confederate soldiers, including 18-year-old Willie Jett. Davy turns on the charm of a seasoned con artist and strikes up a conversation with Willie and his friends. Davy lies better than George Clooney's character Danny Ocean in Ocean's Eleven. While John rests on the banks of the river, Davy puts on his best puppy-dog look and tells the soldiers he's also a recently paroled Confederate soldier who saw action at Petersburg. He and his injured brother are just trying to get home, but they need help getting across the river and finding a place to stay.

Seriously, Davey knows all the right heartstrings to pull. Willie and his friends readily agree to help a couple of fellow soldiers. In fact, Willie even suggests that he knows a nearby place where Davey and John, who are of course not using their real names, can stay. By three o'clock, John, Davey, Willie, and his two friends have ferried across the Rappahannock to Port Royal and are on their way to a local farmer known for his hospitality and friendliness to Confederate soldiers, Richard Garrett. Just as John and Davy bump into Willie Jett, Secretary of War Edwin Stanton and his staffer Lafayette Baker,

up in Washington, D.C., get a reliable tip on their whereabouts. A telegram comes into the War Office stating that two men were seen rowing across the Potomac from Maryland to Virginia only five days ago. Edwin and Lafayette jump into action and assemble a team of 26 soldiers from the 16th New York Cavalry to go after those men. Lafayette tasks Detectives Everton Conger and Luther Baker, along with Lieutenant Edward Doherty, to lead these troopers and find John Willicks Booth. The search party arrives in Port Royal less than 24 hours after John and David, but they don't try to make friends with the locals.

Throughout the morning of Tuesday, April 25th, the posse harangues the citizens of Port Conway and Port Royal trying to get a beat on John and Davy. A free black couple, William and Betty Rawlins, tell Luther Baker that they saw John and Davy just yesterday. Luther's elated. I cannot describe the thrill of intense satisfaction that came over me when I heard this statement. I was positive I had struck the trail. William and Betty informed the blue-clad soldiers

that John and Davy had been traveling with Willie Jett, a local boy who was courting a young woman in nearby Bowling Green. If the soldiers find Willie, they might also nab John. There's only 12 miles of well-maintained, shaded road between Port Royal and Bowling Green. Everton Conger decides to check out William and Betty's tip. At 11 p.m. in Bowling Green,

Everton orders his men to quietly surround the Star Hotel while he and Edward Doherty go inside to question Willie. But there's no way that the young, recently paroled Confederate soldier will try to run when he's roughly roused by two armed federal officers. In fact, once Everton explains just who they are after, Willie hastily agrees to help. He states, I know who you want and I will tell you where they can be found. Willie only wants some assurance that he won't be arrested for helping a criminal.

Everton complies, and Willie's whole story comes gushing out. The young man states, quote, They are on the road to Port Royal, about three miles this side of that. I will get there with you and show you where they are,

and you can get them. Close quote. Everton and Edward exchange frustrated glances. Everton clarifies, you say that they are on the road to Port Royal. Willie nods, if you have come that way, you have come past them, but the cavalry might have scared them off. Edward doesn't look deterred by this thought. We'll just have to go back and see. It's 2 a.m. on Wednesday, April 26th. Everton, Edward, Luther, and a 16th New York cavalry men quietly ride up the lane leading to Richard Garrett's large wood-framed farmhouse. Once the soldiers have surrounded the house,

Everton and Luther step onto the porch and knock heavily on the single front door. No lights can be seen through the windows on either side of the entryway. Everton knocks louder. Finally, Richard Garrett, dressed only in a nightshirt and holding a small candle, opens the door.

Luther grabs Richard by the collar and gruffly asks, Where are those parties who were at your house last night? Scared out of his mind, middle-aged Richard starts to stammer. This frustrates the soldiers who think Richard might be stalling for time. Just as Everton orders his men to string up Richard to get more information out of him, 25-year-old Jack Garrett comes striding around the corner of the wood frame house. Wait! Jack yells to be heard over the commotion in his front yard. I will tell you what you want to know. Everton and Luther turn toward Jack. The young man continues. Don't injure father.

The men you want are in the tobacco barn. Jack explains that he and his brother Will locked their houseguests into the barn to prevent them from stealing a couple horses and fleeing into the night. Will Garrett gets the keys and unlocks the barn as the entire posse surrounds the small structure. Luther shouts into the barn, we are here to make you prisoner. We know who you are. I will give you five minutes to surrender. If you do not give yourself up in that time, I will set the barn on fire. John doesn't seem cowed.

I am lame with only one leg. Give me some show for my life. Withdraw your men 50 yards from the door and I'll come out and fight you. Fight you? Seriously? I guess if you're zealous enough to shoot a president of the United States, you're zealous enough to take on over 20 armed soldiers. But Luther doesn't want to shoot out. He retorts, We didn't come here to fight you, but to take you prisoner, and we will take you dead or alive. At this point, Davey loses his nerve. He's had enough running, and he definitely doesn't want to get into a firefight with federal cavalry.

John's co-conspirator exits the barn with his hands up. Soldiers immediately nab him. The youngest Garrett's son, Richard Jr., describes, quote, the poor little wretch was dragged away, whining and crying like a child, and securely bound to a tree in the yard. He kept up his whimpering until the captain had ordered him gagged, close quote. With Davey out of the way, Everton, Luther, and Edward realize they're going to have to turn the heat up on John. Literally. They set a few pine boughs on fire and put the flaming branches up against the back corners of the barn. The hay, dry tobacco leaves, and barn boards immediately catch fire.

The flames quickly light up the moonless night. One soldier, Sergeant Boston Corbett, can clearly see an armed John standing in the middle of the barn. Boston, a tall man with heavy mutton chops, decides to take action. He raises his Colt revolver, takes aim through a gap in the barn boards and shoots. The bullet strikes John through the neck, severing part of his spinal cord. Lincoln's assassin slumps to the ground.

Boston later explains his decision. It was not through fear at all that I shot him, but because it was my impression that it was time the man was shot. For I thought he would do harm to our men in trying to fight his way through that den if I did not. Within seconds of Boston's shot, Edward and a few soldiers rushed into the barn and dragged John safely away from the now raging fire. John's alive, but barely. He's paralyzed from the neck down and can barely breathe. Only the reflex action of his diaphragm keeps air moving in and out of his lungs. The Gehrts put a mattress on the front porch. A few soldiers place limp,

languishing John on the mattress, then run to get a local doctor. As the eastern horizon grows lighter with the impending dawn, Dr. Charles Urquhart arrives on the scene. But there is nothing he can do. Medical technology in 1865 can't save a person paralyzed from the neck down. Everton, Luther, and Edward search John's pockets. They find the small memo book in which John has been recording his thoughts while on the run. As Everton sits near John and reads through the often rambling memo book entries, he notices that John is trying to speak. Everton leans down and puts his ear next to the dying man's mouth John whispers tell my mother I died for my country John dies a few minutes later

just after 7 o'clock in the morning of April 26 18, 1865. John Wilkes Booth's body gets taken back to Washington, D.C. as his co-conspirators get rounded up. By April 26th, Edmund Spangler, Samuel Arnold, Michael O'Loughlin, Mary Surratt,

Lewis Powell, George Atzrott, Samuel Mudd, and of course, Davy Harold are all in federal custody. Their military trials will take a few weeks. In the end, four people will be convicted of conspiracy and condemned to death for the roles they played in helping John Wilkes Booth assassinate President Lincoln. On July 7th, Mary Surratt, Davy Harold, Lewis Powell, and George Atzerodt are hanged.

So now we know how the president's killer and a few of his accomplices found their way to the grave. But what of Lincoln's? We need to inter the Illinois rail splitter. Let's go back in time once more to attend Lincoln's funeral and follow his body to its final resting place. Rewind. It's Wednesday, April 19th in Washington City. Lieutenant General Ulysses Grant stands on a recently built platform in the middle of the East Room of the White House. The 10 by 16 foot catafalque has a seven foot high canopy draped with black and white velvet and silk sheets. Ulysses stands in his practiced stoic soldier stance. Funeral guests quietly enter the room,

step onto the catafalque, walk past Lincoln's open casket, and then find their seats for the upcoming service. Ulysses looks straight ahead the whole time, but the silent tears running down his cheeks bear witness to how difficult this day truly is for the blue-eyed general. At noon, the funeral for the first assassinated U.S. president begins. Over 600 guests attend the service in the East Room, including Lincoln's oldest son, Robert, newly sworn-in President Andrew Johnson, and the entire cabinet except recovering William Henry Seward. Mary Todd Lincoln also stays away, unable to bear the finality of the funeral service. Churches all over Washington City hold their own memorial services at the same time so that all

who wish can honor Abraham Lincoln. In the East Room, Reverend Thomas Hall, pastor of the Epiphany Episcopal Church, begins the service by reading St. John 1125. I am the resurrection and the life. He that believeth in me, though he were dead, yet shall he live. When the funeral ends, eight sergeants gently place the lid on Lincoln's coffin and carry it out to a waiting hearse

pulled by six white horses. At two o'clock, the procession from the White House to the Capitol begins. 5,000 marchers follow in a solemn line behind the hearse with the 22nd Regiment, United States Colored Troops leading the way. With thousands of marchers in the procession and thousands more lining the streets to get a glimpse of Lincoln's black velvet-draped coffin. You might expect this procession to be a noisy affair, but in between the cannon shots which ring out every 60 seconds in mourning, witnesses say that they can actually hear the light breeze rustle leaves on the trees.

Lincoln's body stays at the Capitol for public viewing until Friday morning. Then it boards a train bound for home, Springfield, Illinois. The railcar is actually a specially built presidential coach that Lincoln had planned to take on a nationwide end-of-the-war tour. Now it will carry the president's body through 11 cities on an extended nationwide viewing. At the Washington Depot, civilians and soldiers gather to say one last farewell to their president. As the train pulls out of the station, a lone voice calls out, Goodbye, Father Abraham!

Two of Lincoln's sons accompany his body on the journey, Robert and his deceased little brother, Willie, who passed away in 1862. Willie's casket will be reburied with his father in Springfield. The train arrives on May 3rd, and the next day, Lincoln and Willie's caskets are placed in a receiving vault at Oak Ridge Cemetery. Come December, Lincoln and Willie will be moved to a temporary vault just a stone's throw away. Then finally, in 1871, they and recently deceased Tad will be laid to rest in a permanent tomb on the same hill at Oak Ridge. But it won't be dedicated until 1874. And of course, the granite tomb won't deter people from trying to steal Lincoln's body.

So the tomb will undergo major renovations in 1900 and 1930 to keep Lincoln safe and create a place where people can honor his life and legacy. But Lincoln's arrival at his final resting place doesn't do much to assuage the grief of many Americans. A few months after the funeral, a clerk in the Department of the Interior named Walt Whitman puts his grief into a poem. It becomes a well-known tribute to the president who weathered the Department of the Interior named Walt Whitman, puts his grief into a poem. It becomes a well-known tribute to the president who weathered the storms of the Civil War, but fell dead before he could enjoy the balm of peace. I'll read it to you now.

Oh, Captain, my Captain, our fearful trip is done. The ship has weathered every rack, the prize we sought is won. The port is near The bells I hear The people all exulting While following eyes that steady keel The vessel grim and daring

But, oh heart, heart, heart Oh, the bleeding drops of red Where on the deck my captain lies Fallen, cold, and dead Oh, captain, my captain Rise up and hear the bells Rise up, for you the flag is flung For you, the bugle trills

For you, bouquets and ribboned wreaths For you, the shores are crowding For you, they call and ribboned wreaths For you the shores are crowding For you they call the swaying mass Their eager faces turning Here, captain, dear father This arm beneath your head It is some dream That on the deck

You've fallen cold and dead My captain does not answer His lips are pale and still. My father does not feel my arm. He has no pulse nor will. The ship is anchored, safe and sound, its voyage closed and done. From fearful trip, the victor's ship comes in with object won. Exult, oh shores, and ring, oh bells. But I, with mournful tread, walk the deck my captain lies. Fallen, cold, and dead.

HTDS is supported by premium membership fans. You can join by clicking the link in the episode description. Thank you. John Frugal Dougal, John Boovey, John Keller, John Oliveros, John Radlavich, John Schaefer, John Sheff, Jordan Corbett, Joshua Steiner, Justin M. Spriggs, Justin May, Kristen Pratt, Karen Bartholomew, Cassie Koneko, Kim R., Kyle Decker, Lawrence Neubauer, Linda Cunningham, Mark Ellis, Matthew Mitchell, Matthew Simmons, Melanie Jan, Nick Seconder, Nick Caffrell, Noah Hoff, Owen Sedlak, Paul Goeringer, Randy Guffrey, Reese Humphreys-Wadsworth, Rick Brown, Sarah Trawick, Samuel Lagasa, Sharon Thiesen, Sean Baines, Steve Williams, Creepy Girl, Tisha Black, and Zach Jackson.