Lincoln and the Irish

by Niall O'Dowd

  Booth was now inside the vestibule leading to the box and was expecting to encounter security, in this case John Parker, the resident bodyguard. But Parker was either still in the Star Saloon or was sitting elsewhere to get a view of the play. It has never been confirmed which. Lincoln was defenseless when the assassin approached.

  As for White House doorman Tom Pendel, he claims he warned John Parker to be vigilant as Parker was the sole security agent, tasked with being present when the president arrived and leading him safely into Ford’s Theatre.

  “John, are you armed?” he asked, before Parker left the White House.

  Alphonso Dunn, another doorman and part of the Irish clique, stated, “Oh, Tommy, there is no danger.”

  Pendel says he replied, “Dunn, you don’t know what might happen.”

  He was right on that. Pendel would stay at the White House thirty-six years and remarkably would witness the aftermath of two more assassinations, President Garfield and President McKinley. It was Lincoln who was on his mind, however, when he sat for a late-life interview. “What a just man was the president,” he said—an interesting description of the man who saved the Union.

  A fellow presidential bodyguard, William H. Crook, held Parker directly responsible for Lincoln’s death. “Had he done his duty, I believe President Lincoln would not have been murdered by Booth,” Crook wrote in his memoir. “Parker knew that he had failed in duty. He looked like a convicted criminal the next day.”

  Crook served twelve presidents and had taken the morning shift on the day Lincoln was assassinated. Eerily, Lincoln told him he had dreamed of being assassinated three successive nights. Crook, worried about his safety, begged him not to go to Ford’s Theatre, but Lincoln dismissed his concerns.

  After the passing of the president, Burke drove Mrs. Lincoln back to the White House. She was in a bad way, and repeatedly saying “That house, that house,” while glaring at Ford’s Theatre as they left. Even a stone would have wept for her; she would outlive three of her four sons and her husband in her sad life.

  After that night Burke faded into obscurity and is buried in an unmarked grave in Mount Olivet Cemetery in Washington, D.C. Forbes was never interviewed by newspapers about his recollections of the night. He too died, and was placed in an unmarked grave; later, a headstone noting his role with Lincoln was erected. Mary Lincoln wrote him a warm letter afterwards, making clear she did not blame him, and Robert Lincoln employed him when he was Secretary of War.

  On November 12, 1983, Irish Ambassador Tadgh O’Sullivan officially unveiled a new tombstone over the Forbes grave, noting his role with the Lincoln family at the Congressional Graveyard in Washington. A color guard was present.

  But the question will always loom: What did Booth say to Forbes to gain entrance to the presidential box that night? In the end, the Irishman was Lincoln’s last line of defense, but he was his valet, not his bodyguard. Charlie Forbes brought many secrets to the grave with him.

  Secretary of War Edwin Stanton decided he wanted the crime scene photographed exactly as it was the moment Lincoln was shot. He called in Irish photographer Matthew Brady to take photographs of the interior of the theater, then the exterior of the president’s box and the approach to the box and the anteroom. Brady had to use all his skill in the dimly lit theater.

  It was a far cry from the triumphant days when he had photographed the aesthetically challenged candidate Lincoln in February 1860 and “photoshopped” him so well that Lincoln gave him much credit for winning the White House.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  The Co-Conspirators—A Catholic Plot?

  Robert Redford’s 2011 movie The Conspirator takes a close look at the assassination and trial of the conspirators who hatched the plot to kill Lincoln.

  At the center of Redford’s movie, in fact, is Mary Surratt (played by Robin Wright), who was accused of participating in the plot to kill Lincoln and assist Booth’s escape. The plotters also met at her place.

  Much was made, in the frenzy following Lincoln’s assassination, of Surratt’s religion. She was a devout Roman Catholic at a time when the religion itself was hated by millions.

  As historian Tom Deignan has noted, “Surratt as well as her accused son, John, were [both] Catholic. [A] man with the name of O’Laughlin [was also] among those accused of taking part in the plot to kill Lincoln. It should be no surprise that a conspiracy theory swiftly took hold that Catholics were at the center of the plot to kill Lincoln.”

  Incredibly, to this day, the Internet is filled with conspiracy theories outlining the Vatican’s role in killing Lincoln, not to mention the Jesuits.

  An ex-priest who Lincoln had once defended in court, named Charles Chiniquy, once stated that, when it came to killing the American president, “the Jesuits alone could select the assassins, train them, and show them a crown of glory in heaven.”

  Even Booth may have converted to Catholicism. His sister thought so and he had a Catholic medal on his person when shot.

  O’Laughlin did play a role in an earlier attempt to kidnap the president, though his religious background has been under debate for years, with some believing he was Catholic, while others arguing that he was actually Methodist.

  John Surratt, for one, had planned on becoming a priest, had met with Booth to plan to kidnap Lincoln on March 17 (St. Patrick’s Day!) of 1865, and even fled to Rome after Booth killed the president.

  Either way, the Catholic plot was one of the “fake news” stories that surfaced soon after the president’s death.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  Irishmen Seeking the Killer Booth

  The longest-living survivor present at Lincoln’s assassination, Samuel Seymour, died in 1956 at age ninety-six. He was a five-year-old boy brought to the theater on a trip to Washington from Maryland by his godmother. He remembered vividly the moment he saw Lincoln.

  “When he finally did come in, she (his godmother) lifted me high so I could see. He was a tall, stern-looking man… . He was smiling and waving to the crowd.

  “Everyone sat down again. All of a sudden, a shot rang out and someone in the president’s box screamed. I saw Lincoln slump forward in his seat… . I thought there had been another accident when one man seemed to tumble over the balcony rail and land on the stage.”

  Lincoln was rushed from the theater across the street to William Petersen’s Boarding House. There, an Irishman immediately took charge, ensuring order and giving the doctors ample space and time to do their work.

  James O’Beirne, from Roscommon, was the Provost Marshal of Washington, D.C., a job that put him in charge of the military police. It meant he would be one of those heading up the pursuit of the conspirators, especially Booth.

  Years later, he remembered his experience:

  I was officially present as provost marshal of the District of Columbia … where the great Lincoln lay on his deathbed from the time when he was first carried into the modest house where he died on Tenth Street nearly opposite Ford’s Theatre, in Washington. I was at Secretary Stanton’s side and stood near him at the rear door in the gray of the morning when Mr. Lincoln died.

  He had been unconscious, manifesting life only by heavy stertorous breathing from the moment when he was first laid in the little rear bed chamber where he died.

  When first brought through he was more than comatose, hardly breathing. At the suggestion of a physician, a civilian then in charge of him ran to the restaurant next door to the theater and procured a large sarsaparilla glass of brandy, which was poured down Mr. Lincoln’s throat and seemed to establish respiration.

  O’Beirne remembered it vividly. “When Mr. Lincoln breathed his last in a guttural, gassing struggle for breath, Mr. Stanton was looking out the window into the breaking twilight of morning dawn.”

  Stanton directed him to go to the Kirkwood Hotel to secure Vice President Johnson, who was staying there. Johnson had an amazing story to tell. All night in the room upstairs, he and his Negro servant heard comi
ng and going and slamming doors.

  The room had been rented by George Atzerodt, the conspirator charged with killing Vice President Johnson. However, Atzerodt had backed out at the last moment. O’Beirne ordered the room searched, and vital clues were found, including a revolver and ammunition probably meant to kill Johnson.

  O’Beirne was now officially on the trail of Booth.

  O’Beirne was a hero and a Medal of Honor winner. He was born in Roscommon in September 1842. His parents were Michael O’Beirne and Eliza Rowan. His father was affiliated with the Young Islanders and knew Thomas Francis Meagher.

  The family emigrated to New York when he was a young boy. He earned a Master of Arts degree from St. John’s University and went to work for his father after graduation.

  When the Civil War broke out, he enlisted with the regiment known as the Irish Rifles after his tour with another company was up.

  At the Battle of Fair Oaks, he displayed such bravery that he was awarded the Medal of Honor. He was badly injured at Chancellorsville and invalided out.

  Secretary of War Stanton wrote to him officially and said, “Major O’Beirne you are relieved from all other duties at this time and directed to deploy yourself … in the [pursuit] of the murderers of the president.”

  That was exactly what O’Beirne would do. He had loved the president and wanted to catch his killer at all costs. He would be joined by another Irishman who also proved vital to the quest. It would be the biggest manhunt in American history.

  O’Beirne’s search went cold in Virginia. At one point he was within ten miles of where Booth was hiding out. He did share in the reward money, an acknowledgement of his efforts. It was another Irishman who would gain a huge measure of fame.

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  Edward Doherty Gets His Man

  Edward P. Doherty was born September 26, 1838, in Wickham, Canada East, to immigrant parents from County Sligo.

  He moved to New York in 1860 and enlisted with the 71st New York volunteers and was captured by the Confederates but made a bold escape.

  Doherty went on to become a captain in the Corcoran Legion, formed by fellow prisoner from the First Battle of Bull Run, Irish American General Michael Corcoran. Doherty served for two years before being appointed First Lieutenant in the 16th New York Cavalry on September 12, 1863. The regiment was assigned to the defense of Washington, D.C. for the duration of the war, where Doherty distinguished himself as an officer.

  On the afternoon of April 24, Lieutenant Doherty was seated on a bench in a park opposite the White House enjoying the spring day. His unit was protecting Washington, and the pursuit of Booth was far from his mind.

  A messenger suddenly approached him with an urgent call to action. The letter was from Doherty’s superior. It demanded he recruit twenty-five men and report to Colonel Baker.

  Doherty leaped to his feet and sprinted back to his barrack and had the bugler play “Boots and Saddles,” the call-out signal to his unit. He took the first twenty-six men and quickly arranged a meeting with Colonel Baker.

  Baker showed him a photograph of who they were pursuing—John Wilkes Booth. Corcoran could feel the rising excitement—he was helping lead the biggest manhunt in history.

  Two detectives would accompany them, Luther Baker and Everton Conger. By that evening, they were on their way. They boarded a ferry to Virginia and arrived close to the last point where Booth had been sighted. They were all keenly aware of the $100,000 reward, which would be close to $1.5 million today.

  Booth fled south on horseback and, after meeting with one of his co-conspirators, David Herold, picked up supplies from a Maryland inn run by Mary Surratt. With his broken leg severely impacting his progress and in dire need of medical attention, Booth and Herold went to the house of a Dr. Samuel Mudd to have his leg set.

  After Mudd ordered them off his property, they were briefly helped by a variety of Confederate soldiers and sympathizers as they headed to Virginia. Once across the Potomac, they sought refuge in a barn on the farm of Richard Garrett.

  It was there, almost two weeks after Lincoln was shot, that Union soldiers of the 16th New York Cavalry found Booth and Herold.

  The following is Lt. Edward P. Doherty’s account of what happened, which Eyewitness History adapted from an article Doherty wrote for Century Magazine in 1890, titled “Pursuit and Death of John Wilkes Booth”:

  Lt. Doherty himself from an updated 1890 interview by Eyewitness History tells history.

  The Account of the Officer in Charge. Scouring the countryside around the Rappahannock River, Doherty is told the two fugitives were last seen at a farm owned by Richard Garrett. Doherty leads his squad to the farm arriving in the early morning hours of April 26.

  I dismounted, and knocked loudly at the front door. Old Mr. Garrett came out. I seized him, and asked him where the men were who had gone to the woods when the cavalry passed the previous afternoon. While I was speaking with him some of the men had entered the house to search it. Soon one of the soldiers sang out, “Oh Lieutenant! I have a man here I found in the corn-crib.” It was young Garrett, and I demanded the whereabouts of the fugitives. He replied, “In the barn.” Leaving a few men around the house, we proceeded in the direction of the barn, which we surrounded. I kicked on the door of the barn several times without receiving a reply. Meantime another son of Garrett’s had been captured. The barn was secured with a padlock, and young Garrett carried the key. I unlocked the door, and again summoned the inmates of the building to surrender.

  After some delay Booth said, “For whom do you take me?”

  I replied, “It doesn’t make any difference. Come out.”

  He said, “I am a cripple and alone.”

  I said, “I know who is with you, and you had better surrender.”

  He replied, “I may be taken by my friends, but not by my foes.”

  I said, “If you don’t come out, I’ll burn the building.” I directed a corporal to pile up some hay in a crack in the wall of the barn and set the building on fire.

  As the corporal was picking up the hay and brush, Booth said, “If you come back here I will put a bullet through you.”

  I then motioned to the corporal to desist, and decided to wait for daylight and then to enter the barn by both doors and overpower the assassins.

  Booth then said in a drawling voice, “Oh Captain! There is a man here who wants to surrender awful bad.”

  I replied, “You had better follow his example and come out.”

  His answer was, “No, I have not made up my mind; but draw your men up fifty paces off and give me a chance for my life.”

  I told him I had not come to fight; that I had fifty men, and could take him.

  Then he said, “Well, my brave boys, prepare me a stretcher, and place another stain on our glorious banner.”

  At this moment Herold reached the door. I asked him to hand out his arms; he replied that he had none. I told him I knew exactly what weapons he had.

  Booth replied, “I own all the arms, and may have to use them on you, gentlemen.”

  I then said to Herold “Let me see your hands.” He put them through the partly opened door and I seized him by the wrists. I handed him over to a non-commissioned officer. Just at this moment I heard a shot, and thought Booth had shot himself. Throwing open the door, I saw that the straw and hay behind Booth were on fire. He was half-turning towards it.

  He had a crutch, and he held a carbine in his hand. I rushed into the burning barn, followed by my men, and as he was falling caught him under the arms and pulled him out of the barn. The burning building becoming too hot, I had him carried to the veranda of Garrett’s house.

  Booth received his death-shot in this manner. While I was taking Herold out of the barn one of the detectives went to the rear, and pulling out some protruding straw set fire to it. I had placed Sergeant Boston Corbett at a large crack in the side of the barn, and he, seeing by the igniting hay that Booth was leveling his carbine at either Harold or mys
elf, fired, to disable him in the arm; but Booth making a sudden move, the aim erred, and the bullet struck Booth in the back of the head, about an inch below the spot where his shot had entered the head of Mr. Lincoln. Booth asked me by signs to raise his hands. I lifted them up and he gasped, “Useless, useless!” We gave him brandy and water, but he could not swallow it. I sent to Port Royal for a physician, who could do nothing when he came, and at seven o’clock Booth breathed his last. He had on his person a diary, a large bowie knife, two pistols, a compass, and a draft on Canada for sixty pounds.

  Doherty may have embellished his role, as did all the other major participants in the hunting down of John Wilkes Booth. The reward money was huge and the fight for the blood money was ferocious, eventually ending in a congressional investigation into how the money was distributed.

  In the end, the assassin got what he deserved, a bullet to the head very similar to the location of the shot he fired to kill the president.

  The bullet was fired by one of the strangest characters in American history, an Englishman of Irish heritage known as Boston Corbett who came to America and discovered old-time religion after living like a tramp. Ashamed of his sexual desires after he converted, he castrated himself by removing his testicles with a knife.

  Despite his bizarre actions, Corbett was a good soldier. As the barn was set ablaze, he saw through a crack that Booth was preparing to come out shooting. He aimed carefully and took him down with a single shot. Booth had died like he wanted, alone, dramatically ready to come out with guns blazing.

  The instruction had been to bring back Booth alive, so there was initial consternation as the issue of his co-conspirators was a vital one. In time, however, Boston Corbett was seen to have been justified. Booth would have taken as many soldiers as he could down in his version of a glorious death.