Stanton was engaged in considerably more than hearing the testimony of the six witnesses who appeared at the Petersen house early Saturday morning. He was issuing orders to his subordinates throughout the country. By the time Horace Greeley’s Daily Tribune hit the streets of New York a dozen dispatches had been issued. One fact that most writers ignore is that Stanton did not listen to the testimony of each witness in its entirety or continuously. He was interrupted constantly and had to make numerous decisions and issue orders. Coupled with this was his compulsion to visit the president at periodic intervals between midnight and 1:30 A.M. when the testimony finally ended.
Tanner began to transcribe his phonographic notes and, as he stated later, did not finish the transcription until 6:45 A.M., just thirty-seven minutes before Lincoln was officially declared dead, and while Stanton was sitting by the president’s side on his deathwatch.44 Even so, Stanton must have gleaned early on that Booth was the culprit, but how early is not clear. Stanton’s first dispatch was filed at 1:30 A.M. at the end of the testimony session. It did not hit the telegraphic wires until 2:15 A.M. As of this dispatch it wasn’t known whether the assassin of Lincoln was the same person who attacked Seward. Stanton’s telegram to Dix read, in part, “About the same hour an assassin, whether the same or not, entered Mr. Seward’s apartment, and, under pretense of having a prescription, was shown to the Secretary’s sick chamber.”45
In his second dispatch filed at 3 A.M. Stanton mentioned Booth as the possible assassin: “Investigation strongly indicates J. Wilkes Booth as the assassin of the President.”46 By the time this dispatch reached the public through the newspapers Booth and Herold were safely at Dr. Mudd’s house beyond the immediate reach of Stanton and his soldiers.
Outside of the Petersen house considerable action was unfolding. Shortly before eleven o’clock John Fletcher walked up to Pennsylvania Avenue from his stables one block south. He had rented one of his horses to Davy Herold and warned the young man that he was to bring the horse back on time. Herold was two hours overdue, and Fletcher feared that he had taken the horse and ridden off with no intention of returning him. Fletcher’s timing was fortuitous. As he approached the avenue he caught sight of Herold one block away. Herold had accompanied Powell to the Seward house earlier in the evening. Waiting outside, Herold heard the screams resulting from Powell’s attack and decided to flee the scene, leaving Powell to fend for himself. Now he was slowly trotting along Pennsylvania Avenue near Fourteenth Street. Fletcher shouted for Herold to return the horse, but Herold, wheeling around, spurred the animal up Fourteenth Street away from the avenue and Fletcher.47
Watching Herold riding off on his horse, an angry Fletcher turned and ran back to his stables, where he mounted his own horse and set out after Herold and his rented horse. Fletcher had once overheard Herold and his sidekick George Atzerodt talk about a place across the river in southern Maryland called White Plains. He suspected that Herold was probably headed there now. Herold often visited the area on hunting trips. Fletcher had little else to go on. It was a good hunch.
Only an hour earlier Atzerodt had come by the stable to pick up his horse and had asked Fletcher to join him for a drink at the corner saloon. Fletcher thought Atzerodt somewhat of a disheveled lowlife who was usually tipsy when he came to the stables. Still, it didn’t hurt for him to join the German in a drink, especially since the German was paying. Returning to the stables, Atzerodt mounted his horse. It was a rather spirited little mare that showed a feisty demeanor. As Atzerodt was about to leave he turned to Fletcher and said that his horse would be “good upon the retreat” this particular night.48 The comment meant nothing to Fletcher at the time, but he would remember it later that night when he visited army headquarters.
Fletcher arrived at the Navy Yard Bridge a little after 11 P.M. where he was stopped by the military pickets guarding the bridge. In charge of the night guard was Sergeant Silas T. Cobb. Cobb asked Fletcher his business, and Fletcher told the sergeant that a young man had recently ridden off with one of Fletcher’s horses. He gave the guard a description of Herold and asked if he had by chance tried to pass over the bridge. Cobb acknowledged that a man fitting the description had passed over the bridge only minutes before. In fact, two men had passed over the bridge only minutes apart. Fletcher concluded the second man was Herold and probably assumed the first man was his pal George Atzerodt.
Fletcher asked Cobb for permission to cross over into Maryland and continue his pursuit of Herold. Cobb told Fletcher he could cross but could not return before morning. Fletcher pleaded his case with Cobb, saying that he had no intention of staying on the other side until morning. He had a stable to manage and needed to return as soon as possible. Cobb held to his rule. Fletcher could leave but he could not return until morning. There was little if any threat to the city by people leaving it, only the imagined threat from people entering. Cobb had his orders.49
Fletcher, frustrated and angry, turned his horse around and headed back to his stables. After taking care of his horse he walked the short distance to police headquarters located on Tenth Street near Ford’s Theatre.50 The crowd had not dissipated but was still milling outside the Petersen house where the dying president was being cared for. Inquiring at police headquarters about a possible stolen horse, Fletcher was told that the police had, in fact, picked up a stray east of the capitol building near Lincoln Hospital earlier in the evening. They had taken it to the Twenty-second Army Corps Headquarters stables where it was being held. On duty that night at the police headquarters was Charles Stone. Stone told Fletcher he would accompany him to look at the horse. The two men walked over to the stables where Fletcher was shown the saddle that had been on the abandoned horse. It was not one of his saddles, nor was it the saddle used by Davy Herold. But Fletcher recognized the saddle. It belonged to the disheveled little German that had tossed down a whiskey with him earlier that same evening. He momentarily forgot the man’s name but told General Augur that he had the name written on a card back at his stables. Augur told Fletcher and Stone to retrieve the card and bring the name to him at once. Returning to his stables, Fletcher pulled the card from a ledger book he kept in his office. Written on the card was the name George A. Atzerodt.51
Fletcher was next taken to the stable where the stray horse was held. It was a large brown horse that had only one eye. Fletcher had seen both the horse and the saddle before, always in the possession of George Atzerodt. Fletcher did not know what to make of the situation. He had assumed that Davy Herold and George Atzerodt had fled over the Navy Yard Bridge earlier in the evening, but here was Atzerodt’s saddle and a horse he had used on occasion in the past. Was it possible that someone else had gone over the bridge instead of Atzerodt? Still, it seemed likely the two friends were together somewhere in southern Maryland. Atzerodt, of course, had not crossed over the Navy Yard Bridge ahead of Herold. That rider was John Wilkes Booth. But at midnight the army had information that would prove extremely valuable within the next few hours. Herold and Atzerodt were linked together, and one or both were now believed to have fled into southern Maryland. It would take only linking the two of them to John Wilkes Booth to alert authorities that southern Maryland was the likely place to search. That linkage would shortly occur on Saturday morning.
As dawn was breaking over the disconsolate capital, Washington’s Provost Marshal James O’ Beirne had sent one of his detectives, John Lee, to the Kirkwood Hotel located at Twelfth and Pennsylvania Avenue to guard Andrew Johnson just in case there was a wider conspiracy whose work was not finished. When Lee arrived at the Kirkwood Hotel he questioned the clerk and barkeep Michael Henry about any events or persons that might raise his suspicions. Henry was more than cooperative. He did believe there was a “suspicious appearing character” who had registered in room 126 on Friday morning.52 Lee asked Henry to take him to the room. Henry was unable to unlock the door since there was only one key to the room and the boarder had taken it with him. No matter, Lee forced the door open
and entered the room. There he found several items, including a coat. In its pocket was a small bankbook with the owner’s name carefully penned inside, J. Wilkes Booth.53 On the desk register was the name of the man who had rented the room a day earlier, George A. Atzerodt.54 It was a major break in the investigation.
The authorities began to piece their information together. Clearly Herold was linked to Atzerodt, and now Atzerodt was linked to Booth. As a result of Fletcher’s information, Augur suspected that Herold went over the Navy Yard Bridge minutes behind a second man sometime around 11 P.M. As a result of Fletcher’s information, Augur ordered a troop of the Thirteenth New York Cavalry under the command of David D. Dana sent over the bridge into southern Maryland. Dana was assigned to Company E, Third Massachusetts Heavy Artillery, stationed at Fort Baker on Good Hope Hill near Union Town. This was the same Fort Baker that Herold and Booth passed a few minutes after 11 P.M. during their flight from Washington.
Dana proceeded to the small village of Piscataway located six miles to the southeast of Surrattsville. Arriving at 7:00 A.M., Dana learned from the troops stationed there that Booth and Herold were not seen in the immediate area and, therefore, must have taken the Surrattsville road in the direction of Bryantown. Dana then headed for Bryantown twelve miles to the southeast of Piscataway.55
Arriving in Bryantown shortly after noon on Saturday, April 15, Dana set up his headquarters in the Bryantown Tavern.56 Dana told his men to start gathering up any and all suspicious characters including anyone thought to be a Southern sympathizer. The last part of the order was problematic since nearly everyone in the county was a Southern sympathizer if not an outright Confederate agent of one sort or another. Dana’s orders left few residents outside the military’s dragnet.
Back in Washington, the crowd outside of the Petersen house continued their vigil. Inside, the group of men surrounding the president were now becoming fatigued. The tenseness and emotional drain was beginning to show. The deathwatch had already lasted several hours longer than the most optimistic estimate called for. Time slipped slowly past, each tick of the clock measured against the failing pulse of the president. A sense of grief weighed heavily on all that were present. The emotional wailing of Mary Lincoln was distressing to even the most hardened heart.
The deathwatch was drawing to an end. Shortly before seven o’clock Mary Lincoln was sent for one last time so that she may see her husband before the end. Leale described the tragic scene: “As she entered the chamber and saw how the beloved features were distorted, she fell fainting to the floor. Restoratives were applied, and she was supported to the bedside, where she frantically addressed the dying man. ‘Love,’ she exclaimed, ‘live but one moment to speak to me once—to speak to our children.’”57
The distraught woman was led away to the front parlor as those in the room pressed a little closer to the bed. Seven o’clock came and went. The pauses between beats and breaths grew longer, and when they resumed, feebler. Sitting opposite Leale at the head of the bed was Surgeon General Barnes. Dr. Stone sat on the edge of the foot of the bed. Robert Lincoln stood beside Senator Sumner, who placed his arm around him. As Leale held the president’s hand he placed his forefinger over its pulse. For nearly a minute he felt nothing. Not even the slightest surge or movement. The breathing stopped. Leale looked across at Barnes, and the two men seemed to close their eyes in unison. It was over. Barnes carefully crossed Lincoln’s hands across his breast and whispered, “He is gone.”58
To those in the room it seemed as though several minutes passed in utter silence. The group of solemn men simply stared at the lifeless form lying on the bed. Then Stanton quietly said to Gurley, “Doctor, will you say anything?”59 Gurley nodded and knelt by the bedside and waited as each of the men sank to their knees. All placed their hands on the bed along with Gurley as if to connect with the lifeless form beneath the coverlet. Gurley began to speak. He asked that God accept his humble servant Abraham Lincoln into His glorious Kingdom.60 When he finished, Stanton, tears streaming down his cheeks, spoke the six words that would become immortalized, “Now he belongs to the ages.”61
On returning to his church at New York Avenue and Thirteenth Street, Gurley went straight to his study and sitting at the large oak desk began writing a poem to ease his own grief:
Thy name shall live while time endures,
And men shall say of thee,
He saved his country from its foes,
And bade the slave be free.62
CHAPTER TWELVE
Surrattsville
I am pretty certain that we have assassinated the President and Secretary Seward.
John Wilkes Booth
As Stanton and Welles were making their way to Ford’s Theatre, a horse and rider were seen racing hard across the capitol grounds in the direction of the Eastern Branch of the Potomac River.1 The exact route is not known, but within a few minutes the rider arrived at the Eleventh Street Bridge located next to the Washington Navy Yard in southeast Washington. The distance from Ford’s Theatre was just over three miles.
Guarding the bridge were two soldiers from the Third Massachusetts Heavy Artillery stationed at Fort Baker.2 The rider galloped up to the gate that blocked passage across the wooden bridge. The sentry raised his hand and called for the rider to stop. He reined in his horse. In command of the detail on duty that night was Sergeant Silas T. Cobb. Cobb challenged the man sitting astride his sweating mount: “Who are you sir?”
“My name is Booth.”
“Where are you from?” Cobb asked.
“The city,” the rider answered, steadying his horse. The sergeant noted the horse’s sweaty flanks indicating he had been ridden hard.
“Where are you going?”
“I am going home.” He replied. “To Charles County.”
“What town are you going to?”
“I do not live in a town.” The rider seemed in a hurry.
Cobb took hold of the bridle to steady the horse from its nervous prancing.
“You must live in some town.” Cobb remarked.
“I live near Beantown,” came the reply. “It is a dark road and I thought if I waited til now that I would have the moon to help me.”3
Sergeant Cobb hesitated, then nodded to the private. The gate swung open as the Sergeant stood to one side, letting go of the bridle.
“All right, you may pass, but you cannot come back across before daybreak.”
“I have no intention of returning,” the rider said as he began walking his horse across the open bridge.
It is curious that Booth gave his real name and destination to Cobb, and yet the military never took advantage of this information. Perhaps Booth slipped up because he was in an excited state having just murdered the president. Still, it could have proved to be a fatal slip. Booth’s statement that he was headed for “Beantown” indicated that he planned to go to Dr. Mudd’s house only minutes after shooting Lincoln and not by accident as most authors claim. Mudd lived only three miles east of the small village known as Beantown.
Once across the bridge Booth turned onto Harrison Road, which would take him into southern Maryland. Riding hard up the steep incline leading out of the city he had only one more checkpoint to pass before he would be free of any hindrance. At the top of the hill the road passed between two forts. Back in Washington Stanton was just arriving at the Petersen house.
At the bridge Cobb had just returned to the guardhouse when a second rider galloped up. Cobb went through the routine a second time. The rider identified himself as “Smith.” He told Cobb he had overstayed his visit with a lady of the evening. Cobb understood. It was an easy thing to do. Cobb then asked him his destination. The rider told him he was headed for his home in “White Plains.” It was located approximately six miles to the southwest of Mudd’s house, well away from Booth’s intended direction. White Plains was the same place that Fletcher remembered hearing Herold and Atzerodt discuss on previous occasions.4 As with the first rider, no threat was se
en. Cobb waved the man across the bridge, warning him as he had the first rider that he could not return before morning.
Cobb had violated his orders by allowing Booth to pass over the bridge. It was a technical violation. The threat to Washington was over and passage to and from the city was relaxed. Although General Augur would dress down Cobb, he was never charged or formally reprimanded for his failure.
Once past the two forts at the top of Harrison Road the way was clear. It was a little past 11:00 P.M. when the hard riding Booth passed the forts and headed south toward Surrattsville. There was no challenge. There couldn’t be. No word had passed from the city that something desperate had taken place. The sentries on duty may have heard the hoof beats far in the distance, but so what? It mattered little that some citizen was making his way at this late hour out of the city.
Sometime around midnight Major George Worcester, the commanding officer of Fort Baker, received a telegram from Augur’s headquarters ordering him to deploy his troops between the two forts “and form a continuous line of telegraph pickets,… it is supposed that one of the assassins is still in the city.”5 By posting soldiers as “telegraph pickets,” the two forts remained in voice contact with one another by simply shouting messages from one guard to the next.
Booth had told the guard at the bridge that he was headed for “Beantown.” To be sure, he would go to Beantown, but first he made another stop. Riding past the forts, Booth continued on for another five miles until he reached the high ground south of the city at a spot known as Soper’s Hill. Here he stopped and waited for Herold and Powell. He hallooed softly but no one answered. Soper’s Hill seems to have been the spot Booth designated as a rendezvous point for the four men to meet. Herold, following his arrest, told the detectives that he first ran into Booth at Soper’s Hill on the night of April 14. Herold had put the time at approximately 11:30 P.M. , which fits nicely with other known times along the road to Mudd’s house.6
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