Of all the condemned, only Lewis Powell ate his breakfast; more than that, said an observer, he ate it “heartily.”18 Like Herold, the handsome Floridian had managed three hours of sleep during the night. But unlike Herold and the rest, Powell seemed untroubled by the ordeal ahead. With no friends or relatives to comfort him, the young man spent his last hours chatting quietly with the Reverend Abram Gillette, a Baptist minister, with whom he spoke of his childhood.19
At 8:30 A.M., Anna Surratt burst through the doors of the White House. The doorkeeper stopped the sobbing young woman at the foot of the stairs and informed her that the president was unavailable. When Johnson’s military secretary, R. D. Mussey, came down the steps, the girl fell to her knees. Grasping the man by his coat, Anna begged and pleaded to be allowed to see the president. Explaining that such a request was out of the question, the secretary thereupon returned to his office, leaving the hysterical girl crumpled on the steps. When strangers ventured near, the red-faced young woman begged for their help. “Crying and tearing her hair and exhibiting all the evidences of insanity,” Anna screamed over and over again that her mother was innocent of the crime and was too precious to die. Many who witnessed the horrible scene themselves began to weep.20 After she had quieted somewhat, Anna was helped to a seat in the East Room. Each time someone entered the White House, however, the grief-stricken girl sprang to her feet and ran to the door.21
Two of David Herold’s sisters also sought an audience with the president to plead for their only brother’s life. The girls were no more successful than Anna. Similar appeals to speak with Mrs. Johnson or her daughter were likewise refused.22
By 11 A.M., a huge throng had gathered at the upper gate of the Arsenal grounds. To the disappointment of all, a strong guard around the entire perimeter prevented most from entering.23 Outside the gates, enterprising vendors set up stalls and sold iced lemonade and cakes.24 As the crowd stood staring at those who came and went, a stir was created when Mary Walker passed by. Not only was Walker the sole female physician in the Union Army, but she was the only woman admitted to the execution. Loathed by some, laughed at by others, Dr. Walker shocked all, male and female alike, due to her penchant for wearing men’s trousers. On this day, the young woman added to her scandals by riding a horse through the crowd astraddle like a man.25
In the maddening heat and excitement, tempers soon became explosive. As a soldier attempted to pass through the Arsenal gate to fill his canteen, he was halted by the sentry. Sharp words were exchanged between the two when a sergeant of the guards suddenly appeared. Cutting the argument short, the angry officer simply drew his sword and stabbed the thirsty soldier in the eye. With blood streaming down his face, the wounded man was quickly carried away. Learning of the incident, the victim’s brother, also a soldier, raced to the scene. As the stunned crowd watched in horror, the outraged brother raised his musket and shot the sergeant dead in his tracks.26
In addition to those guarding the perimeter of the Arsenal grounds, an extra two thousand soldiers were spread around the prison itself, as well as along the Potomac. Placed there not just to forestall rescue attempts, the men were also on the lookout for curiosity-seekers who might rush the building. Also on duty just outside the prison was Sergeant Boston Corbett’s regiment, the 16th New York Cavalry.27 Despite the blistering heat, many soldiers inside the prison yard were in a festive mood, fully aware that not only would they be mustered out of the military soon, but they were now a part of history in the making. With each sliver of wood chipped from the “assassins derrick” and each strand of hemp pulled from the “treason chokers,” there was a mad, laughing scramble among the men to pocket the tossed souvenirs. One group of soldiers discovered a large rat in the yard and quickly chased it down.
“He was immediately court-martialed,” an amused lieutenant laughed, “and a miniature gallows being erected and a piece of fish line procured [the rat was] hung up [and] his carcase [sic] chucked into one of the pits near the coffins.”28
By eleven o’clock, the number of people in the prison offices had grown significantly. “Reporters are scribbling industriously,” wrote one suspense-filled correspondent. “A suppressed whisper is audible all over the room and the hall as the hour draws nearer, and the preparations begin to be more demonstrative.”29 Nearby, the heavy iron door leading to the cells creaked and groaned loudly time and again as priests and visitors came and went.30 When a dry-eyed Anna Surratt appeared and silently passed through the huge door, reporters excitedly speculated that her changed demeanor might indicate that she had received a reprieve for her mother.31
Suddenly, a loud sound beyond the window echoed through the prison and hushed the buzzing reporters.32 To ensure that there were no mishaps, Christian Rath had wisely decided to test the drops by placing four huge cannon balls on the scaffold. When the props were knocked out, one trap had come down with a crash as planned, but the other had stuck. Carpenters immediately went to work.33
One of the four soldiers assigned to push out the props from under the drops already was having misgivings. When Christian Rath had requested volunteers for an unspecified task the previous day, many had stepped forward, but only William Coxshall and three others were chosen.
“None of us waited to hear what the duty was. We were eager for anything to vary the routine,” Coxshall admitted.34 Now acutely aware that he was on the verge of performing “one of the grimmest events I ever participated in,” the young soldier and his stomach were having second thoughts.35
Shortly after 11 A.M., the door was opened, and the ticket-holding spectators were at last allowed to enter the prison yard.36 Although many milled about, briefly inspecting the scaffold or the graves with the four boxes stacked nearby, most visitors quickly returned indoors or sought the few patches of shade. With the temperature already approaching one hundred degrees, and with virtually no wind behind the walls, the sun struck the yard “like the blasts from a fiery furnace.”37 For those who were anchored on the Potomac and had scaled masts in hopes of viewing the executions, a slight breeze offered some relief.38 Occasionally a whiff of wind off the water would reach the scaffold, causing the dangling ropes to “writhe as I have seen wounded snakes,” thought one man.39
As noon approached, some of the several hundred soldiers who would form a guard within the courtyard began arriving. And from a window on an adjacent building, Alexander Gardner began adjusting his clumsy apparatus to gain the best photographs possible of the grim ceremony.40
Inside the prison offices, “the bustle increases,” wrote a correspondent for the Philadelphia Inquirer:
Officers are running to and fro calling for orderlies and giving orders. General Hartranft is trying to answer twenty questions at once from as many different persons. The sentry in the hall is becoming angry because the crowd will keep intruding on his beat, when suddenly a buggy at the door announces the arrival of General Hancock. He enters the room hurriedly, takes General Hartranft aside, and a few words pass between them in a low tone, to which Hartranft nods acquiescence; then, in a louder voice, Hancock says, “Get ready, General; I want to have everything put in readiness as soon as possible.” This was the signal for the interviews of the clergymen, relatives and friends of the prisoners to cease, and for the doomed to prepare for execution. . . .
Mr. Aiken approaches Gen. Hancock and a few minutes’ conversation passes between them. Aiken’s countenance changes perceptibly at Gen. Hancock’s words. The reason is plain; there is no hope for Mrs. Surratt. The habeas corpus movement, from which he expected so much, has failed, and Aiken, in a voice tremulous with emotion, said to your correspondent, “Mrs. Surratt will be hung.” The bright hopes he had cherished had all vanished, and the dreadful truth stood before him in all its horror.41
Outside, the last loud test of the trap doors had proven successful. “The rattle echoes around the walls, it reaches the prisoners’ cells close by, and penetrates their inmost recesses,” continued the Philadelphia reporter.42
The horrible sounds did nothing to calm the nerves of the wretched living dead. When the guards came at 12:30 and ordered all visitors to leave, everyone knew that the end was at hand. Rocking back and forth on his mattress, George Atzerodt again begged his mother, and a sister who had now joined them, to forgive him for bringing such shame on the family. His life, admittedly, had never amounted to much, but now he wanted desperately to say something important and meaningful as he stood on the scaffold.43
David Herold’s sisters, weeping uncontrollably, also said their final goodbyes.44
Bidding his client farewell, Lewis Powell’s attorney asked if he could pass on any last message. “None,” replied Powell, “except I want you to give my love to my parents, and tell them that I die in peace with God and man. I do not want to live, even if the President will spare my life; I do not want it.” The condemned man then stared at his attorney. “My only regret,” he said softly, “is that in leaving the world now, I will not be able to reward or show my gratitude to you for your services in my behalf.”45
Turning to Rev. Gillette, Powell again expressed his deepest regret that his actions had harmed Mary Surratt. “She does not deserve to die with us,” he said sadly.46
With her last shred of strength, Mary Surratt managed one final time to put on a bold, brave front for her daughter. When the moment came to say their goodbyes, however, Anna fell once more into “hysterics of grief.” As the shattered young woman was led from the cell, her screams could be heard throughout the prison and beyond.47
By one o’clock, most of the reporters and spectators had filed through the door and moved into the fiery yard. In the windows surrounding the enclosure as well as on top of a nearby building, the onlookers were densely packed.48 Several hundred soldiers had also taken their places and formed ranks around the scaffold. The wall of bayonets was so thick, thought one of those troops, that nothing but the president’s pardon could have slipped through.49 As with this soldier, speculation on a stay for Mary Surratt increased among all. Because less than an hour remained before the two o’clock deadline, some now felt certain that the woman would not hang, and many heads turned to the rear, as if expecting a courier to arrive at any moment announcing as much. Others wondered aloud if not only Mary but also one or more of the others had received a reprieve.50
All speculation abruptly ceased shortly after 1 P.M., when General Hartranft appeared in the yard. Behind him, trudging along in a row, came the condemned, including Mary Surratt. When the prisoners’ weakened eyes finally adjusted to the searing light, the first sight that greeted them was the great killing machine looming just ahead; the next vision to meet their gaze was the coffins and graves ready to receive them.
Although she was dressed in black and lightly veiled, those nearest Mary Surratt could see that her lips were moving rapidly, as if in prayer. Already hampered by her shackles, the terrified woman had to be almost lifted along by her guards.51 George Atzerodt shuffled behind wearing a “glaring, haggard look.” His eyes, one soldier thought, seemed to be desperately searching the crowd for someone who might save him.52 Following Atzerodt, appearing “filthy” and unkempt, came young David Herold, his face darting nervously to every feature of the scaffold. A soldier nearby noticed that Herold trembled and shook and seemed on the verge of fainting.53 Calm and collected as usual, Lewis Powell brought up the rear, showing no sign whatsoever of nervousness or fear.54
Slowly, solemnly, the condemned scaled the stairs to the platform, their chains clanking with every step. Once on the scaffold, the four were led to chairs and seated. Flanked by Catholic priests, Mary Surratt rested for a moment; but when her eyes fastened on the dangling noose just above, she again began to mumble a prayer.55 “She sunk in a collapsed condition in her seat,” noted a reporter, “leaning feebly upon her right arm.”56 Someone thoughtfully held an umbrella above Mary to shield her from the blazing sun. Sharing the drop with the woman was Lewis Powell, who sat bolt upright, gazing curiously at the crowd below.
Stepping quickly to the front of the scaffold, General Hartranft read the order of execution in a clear voice heard throughout the yard. While he did so, a priest held a small crucifix before Mary’s face, which she kissed fervently again and again.57
“[At] times,” wrote another newsman watching David Herold, “he trembled violently.” At other times, “he looked wildly around and his face had a haggard, anxious, inquiring expression.”58
When Hartranft had finished, Abram Gillette knelt beside Lewis Powell and prayed aloud:
Almighty God, our Heavenly Father, we pray thee to permit us to commit this soul into thy hands, not for any claim we have to make for it in ourselves, but depending as we do upon the merits of our Lord Jesus Christ, grant, O Heavenly Father . . .59
Looking around for a moment during the long prayer, as if trying to awaken from a bad dream, Mary Surratt then closed her eyes again and softly laid her head upon an arm when the horrible reality did not disappear. Mercifully, umbrellas appeared, and each of the condemned was soon shielded from the sun. As Gillette finished, for the first and last time throughout his long captivity, Powell’s eyes briefly filled with tears. Next, as the minister prayed for his soul, the lips of David Herold could be seen silently repeating the words.60
Below the gallows, steadying the prop that held one of the trap doors in place, William Coxshall was becoming physically ill. The heat, the delays, the ghastly spectacle above, all were proving too much. The prayers “seemed to me interminably [long],” remembered the soldier. “The strain was getting worse. I became nauseated . . . and taking hold of the supporting post, I hung on and vomitted.”61
At length, it was the Lutheran minister’s turn:
And now, George A. Atzeroth [sic], may God have mercy upon you. The ways of the transgressor is hard. The wages of sin is death; but if we freely confess our sins, God will in mercy pardon them. Christ came into the world to save sinners—even the chief of sinners. Believe in the Lord Jesus Christ, and thou shalt be saved. The blood of the blessed Redeemer, Jesus Christ, cleanseth from all sin. You profess to have. . . .62
While the prayer was in progress, Dr. George Porter watched the condemned closely:
Mrs. Surratt was very feeble and leaned her head upon alternate sides of her armchair in nervous spasms. Her general expression was that of acute suffering, vanishing at times as if by the conjuration of her pride, and again returning in a paroxysm, as she looked at the dangling rope before her. [Powell], the strongest criminal of our history, was alone dignified and self-possessed. . . . He looked at death as for one long expected; not a tremor of a shock stirred his long stately limbs. . . . Herold, although whimpering, showed more grit than was anticipated. . . . Atzerodt . . . was the picture of despair.63
With the prayers finally finished, the three men were helped up and led onto the drops. While Mary was allowed to remain seated momentarily, the executioners quickly began binding the arms and legs of the condemned, including the woman, with white cloth.
“It hurts,” cried Mary when the cinch was pulled too tightly.
“Well,” came the sympathetic reply, “it won’t hurt long.”64
A reporter for the New York World shuddered when he saw Mary bound, realizing only now that, despite earlier optimism, there would be no last-second reprieve. The federal government was actually about to murder a woman.65 A moment later, when she was lifted to her unsteady legs, another observer was sickened by the sight of two men delicately removing Mary’s bonnet and veil, then ever so gently adjusting the noose around her throat.66
As the rope was placed around his own neck, a trembling George Atzerodt knew he must say something soon, or it would never be said. Wrote a reporter for the Washington Evening Star:
Atzerodt, who seemed to grow excited as his last moments approached, just before the white cap was placed over his head, attempted in a gasping manner to address the spectators. His parched lips would not obey the helm, and it was distressing to see
him convulsively endeavoring to make himself intelligible. At last he managed to get out the words: “Gentlemen, take ware,” meaning evidently, “take warning.” The white cap was drawn over his head, as was done with the others.67
Because of her unsteady legs, Mary was helped forward on the drop. “Please don’t let me fall,” came the stifled plea from beneath her hood.68
A few seconds later, at 1:25 P.M., Christian Rath silently motioned to General Hartranft that all was ready.69 In turn, William Coxshall and his three comrades below moved back and grabbed their long poles. At the signal, they would push out the props.70
In the breathless silence of the yard, Mary Surratt’s low, frightened voice could be heard reciting Latin prayers. Of the four, none was visibly shaking save George Atzerodt, whose legs began to buckle.71
“Good-by, gentlemen, who are before me now,” came the pathetic muffled voice behind Atzerodt’s hood, “may we all meet in the other world. God help me now. Oh! Oh! Oh!”72
The sounds of General Hartranft clapping his hands, once, twice, caused Atzerodt to try and step back from the drop. Mary Surratt was just in the process of stepping onto it. At Hartranft’s third clap, William Coxshall and the others, “with all our might,” pushed their poles and shoved out the props. Instantly, the trap doors fell with a heavy slam. The three men came down with a sickening thud, then rebounded upward “like a ball attached to a rubber.” Because of her angle, Mary merely slid down the trap and was therefore sent swinging “like a pendulum.”73
Although she briefly tried to free her left arm to reach the tight noose, Mary’s struggle was short.74 Likewise, except for leg spasms and a powerful heaving of the stomach, George Atzerodt’s suffering was also mercifully brief. Not so with Lewis Powell and David Herold. With tremendous strength, Powell’s massive body quaked violently; then, in a terrific effort to break the binding, his legs doubled up several times almost to a sitting position. Those close by noticed that Powell’s hands and neck quickly turned purple.75
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