W

4n — ■■ «■ M^-M— ■»■■—■■— M'^M^M—M—l"~-"—"-^"~~"~"""~'"''*j*

i

TRAVELERS SERIES NUMBER SEVEN j

iiHiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii iiiiiiiiiin iiiiiiniiiiiiiiiJ iiiiniiiiii iiiiiiiitiii iiiniii iriiiiiiiiiiiiiii'.

I

The Escape and Wand- erings of J. Wilkes Booth Until Ending of the Trail by Suicide in Oklahoma

The Way of the Transgressor is Hard

PRICE $2.00

1 1 t"—

1

rtl«— ■»—■—— ■■ H— MH-

-HI^—M^MNI*— «■«-»•■—

-K mi»^M.^n^_in|| '

^w»— ■••—■■—»•—•■— ••-

»■•>■•_»■■— >aM->n^i»>rMa^>a>o^n—ii<^ii^

Capt. E. P. Dougherty in command of Pursuing Party.

Lieutenant L. B. Baker, Col. L. C. Baker and Everton

Conger planning systematic effort to capture

Booth and Herrold.

^'i

i^

***%Jt t^'''

-'-^^^5^^

The Nine "Conspirators."

Julius Brutus Booth, broth- Julius Brutus Booth, Sr., er of J. Wilkes Booth father of J. Wilkes Booth.

THE lamurpiED han-d of john wilkes boots.

AS Read By Prof Bentley Sage.

"John St. Helen," 1877

"%*^^^^*v «4^A<

Finis L. Bates, IS77

W . I'. Campbell, 1921

Oklahoma the Mecca for Men of Mystery

JOHN WILKES BOOTH

ESCAPE AND WANDERINGS UNTIL FINAL ENDING

OF THE TRAIL BY SUICIDE AT ENID,

OKLAHOMA, JANUARY 12, 19C3

<Sa^^

WANDERINGS OF J. WILKES BOOTH

FOREWORD

This story is much in the nature of a court suit where- in one Boston Corl)ett is accused of killing one J. Wilkes Booth at what is designated as the Garrett home in Virginia on the 25th of April, 1865. After the prosecution has introduced its evidence and "rested," and the defense has introduced its defense and the arguments are in, it will be up to the readers as jurymen to decide whether the defend- ed is guilty as charged and render their verdict accordingly. Under court rules, the prosecution has the right to the opening and tlie closing of the case; but in this particular "suit," the prosecution will say all its say and permit the defense to close the "argument." First, there is no "corpus delicti" claimed. That Corbett killed a "man" at the Gar- rett home on the day alleged is not denied. But, like the question of an umbrella being personal property — the court decided that it is, but hasn't decided whose. Neither is the question as to the killing of President Lincoln at issue, nor is it as to who did the killing. These are admitted and therefore not an issue. On behalf of the prosecution, Gen. David A. Dana will be introduced; or rather a letter from him written from his Lubec, Maine, home and published in the Boston Globe of November 12, 1897. But before introducing this letter —

Now imagine if you will a large wall card of the Equitable Insurance Company on which is a picture of Ahe National Capitol and surroundings, including the navy yard and approaches to the east Potomac bridge, and. a strip of Potomac country some miles south and southeast. Then imagine a rather tall man slightly stooped from the care of years, dressed in a Prince Albert, buttoned at the center, wide brimmed rather low crowned black hat, and immaculate black tie from which flashes a small jet. Raven hair reaching to the shoulders and \vith a wavy trend; black imperial mustache, a rattan cane which he of seeming habit keeps twirling in the right hand between thumb and fore- finger as he paces meditatively to and fro. Now he stop* in front of the capitol picture and settling back on his heels gives the card a punch with the end of his cane as though he would punch a hole through it. Then as he approaches it, "Were you ever there?" he turns to his questioner with fixed and piercing eyes as he gives a crisp, "Yes," fairly through clenched teeth. "And I shall never forget it." Here he drops the subject and sauntering up the room a few feet rests his eyes on a large wall map of the United States. First, however, tracing with his cane to the east Potomac bridge, resting the cane at the farther end a brief moment. Then tracing down the stream until

O o '

^' WANDERINGS OF J WILKES BOOTH

his cane rests at a point where he dwells, remarking: "The Sekiah Swamp. Great place for an escaping man. Just wade in a way and then down to a rocky beach with fallen leaves in which all footprints are lost on passing out of the marsli until reaching the road again." Again resting the point i.f the cone. From thence on the large map a distance where he lingers quite a spell; thence with occas- ional stoppings southwesterly through Kentucky and Tennessee and into the edges of Mississippi until he leachfs a point crossing the Mississippi a few miles below where the Arkansas empties into it. Some distance along the eastern banks of the Arkansas to a point presumably near Fort Gibson where he hesitates a while, then crosses and traces up the stream where he halts, withdraws his cane from the map, and buries himself in deep meditation. Then pointing his cane to the map traces across what was then Indian Territory, northeast through what evidently is now Oklahoma, Kingfisher and Blaine counties, passing out of the territory and into Kansas near Kiowa; thence in a northeasterly direction to a point not far south of Omaha, where he again takes the cane from the map and again muses to himself. Next he traces westerly through the then wilds of Nebraska and Colorado and into Utah until near Salt Lake City where he veers more directly west- ward, resting at San Francisco. Thence down the coast through Fresno, near Los Angeles, and into Mexico. An- other reflective pause, after which the tracing is continued from point to point in Aztec land. Finally the tracing ends at about the point where Fort Worth stands. Here he leaves oif tracing and paces a few moments, twirling his cane with one hand as he meditatively twists at hir; mustache with the other, turning with the remark: "Ver ily, a rolling stone gathers no moss."

GENERAL DANA'S VERSION

The letter was to the Boston Sunday Globe and ws run in that publicatirn in the issue of December 6, 1877. Among other things Mr. Dana declares that in the spring of 1865 he had headquarters at Fort Baker, near Washington City, .just above the east branch of the Potomac and with'n- the lines of the Third Brigade of Harding's Divisirn, Twenty-second Corps, commanded by Gen. C. C. Augnr, under whom he, Dana, was provost with authority over- nearly all of that portion of Maryland between East Pt)t'^-- mac and Patuxent. At this time that part of the state wis alive with rebels and Dana was commissioned to watch all their movements. While patroling this country, says Dana,- he learned of a plot against the Federal government, auvt that the stroke would probably be aimed at President.

4 WANDERINGS OF J. WILKES BOOTH

Lincoln. Dana at once asked for a troop of veteran cavalry in addition to the regular provost guard, and the request was granted. He established a line of pickets from Fort Meigs on the left to a point on the right and gave orders to let none enter the city of Wa§hington during the day who could not give a satisfactory account of business at the Capitol, while from sunrise to sundown no one should be permitted to enter or leave the city except in case of sick- ness or death. All suspicious persons were to be arrested and sent to the Commanding General for investigation.

April 14 two men appeared before the guard on the road leading to Washington from the east. Refusing to give their names they were arrested and placed in the guard tent from whence they were sent to headquarters. This was about one o'clock in the afternoon. In the course of an hour or two they gave their names as Booth and Herrold.

About two o'clock p. m. Dana received orders from General Augur to release all prisoners and to withdraw the guards until further orders. Dana then sent an orderly to the officers on the line from Fort Meigs easterly with orders to release all prisoners and report to him at Fort Baker. On the line from Meigs to Surrattsville, Dana says, he went in person and withdrew the guards to his head- quarters and that Booth and Herrold were released as soon as the orders reached the guards; that they at once proceeded to the capitol arriving there about 6:30 p. m. Dana says he had guards at each end of the bridge and that one guard knew Booth personally and recognized him afterwards while riding from the capitol soon after the assassinatirin. Dana says he returned to Fort Baker at 11 p. m. and was eating supper when an officer rode into ■camp with the news that the President had been shot and the assailant and another man had ridden at a rapid pace into the country. The guards were at once called and a ■detachment sent in different directions, after which Dana :says he went to the bridge to learn what he could there; that on his way back he met a tronp of cavalry, the 13th of New York, which was ordered to patrol the river as far as Guisi Point and there learn all they could and return to Fort Baker. At the bridare he found an orderly with orders from AuGTur to report without delay, which he did, and %vas ushered into the General's presence, who was at his desk with streaming eyes.

"My God." Augur cries, "if I had listened to your advice this terrible thing would not have happened.'' (Now, what was that advice?) After a brief conference Dana was appointed adjutant-general on Augur's staff with orders to use his own judgment as to the best way to capture the

WANDERIXCJS OF .1 WILKES BOOTH 5

perpetrators. 'Commanders of all divisions were directed to observe all orders of Dana as though especially issued by the Commanding General. The first order was that the swiftest steamer obtainable should patrol the Potomac as far as the Patuxent and seize all boats that could not give satisfactory account. Tlien a steamer should be sent up the Patuxent and all the boats on that river were to be seized as far as Horsehead Ferry. As a reason, Dana savs, he had while scouting through Maryland learned that a boat would be used by the assassins who would go by •land to the Patuxent, thence across Albert river and on into old Mexico.

Dana returned to Fort Baker where he left essential orders, after which he, with the cavalry then scouting and a small detachment of his own, started on the chase taking the road by way of Surrattsville to Bryantown. As they passed through the former place all was dark; but an old man and woman were found who had a boy sick with smallpox. Failing to obtain any information, the old man was taken into a patch of woods and strung up to a limb. It was a clear night with the moon just rising, its silver tints gleaming on the tree tops and the flickering of the campfire casting fantastic shadows here and there. Indeed, what a weird and gruesome scene it must have been, there in the glare of the campfire and of the moon the body of a man struggling in a spasmodic effort to free himself from the tightening noose. After a few moments, says Dana, the man was ordered lowered. Rather than pass through a second suspension the man said that Booth and Herrold had taken something to eat at Surrattsville, Booth seeming to be badly hurt. They remounted and rode toward Bryan- town, to where the Dana posse pushed reins. A few miles from Bryantown a detachment of ten men under a sergeant as patrol guards to watch for suspicious persons in that section, was met. From there the Dana party went directly to Port Tobacco and gave orders for the men to report to him at Bryantown. He ordered the troops to scour up the Patuxent and arrest all suspicious persons and report to him. The guards afterward admitted that they heard the clatter of Booth's and Herrold's horses hoofs as they passed by the road leading to Dr. Samuel Mudd's toward Bryantown, where Dana says he arrived about 6 o'clock p. m. and placed guards on all the roads leading into the village with orders that anyone might enter but none could leave. About 2 o'clock that afternoon the detachment of troops from Port Tobacco returned to Bryantown. Mean- time troops had been sent to Woodbine and Horsehead ferries and all boats had been seized and all crossings stopped. By taking possession of these .positions and seiz-

WAXDERIN'GS OF J WII.KES BOOTH

ing the ferry boats the river was thoroughly guarded and patroled.

After Booth and Herrold arrived at Dr. Mudd's, accord- ing' to Dana, tlie riding boot was slit and drawn from Booth's wounded limb, after which the leg was bandaged and splinted with pieces of a cigar box, and a crutch was made from a broom handle. After breakfast arrangements were made for flight on the instant, should anything happen to artmse fear of too close pursuit. Dr. Mudd came into Bryantown about two o'clock in the afternoon and re- mained until near nine that night, when Dr. George Mudd,, cousin of Dr. Samuel Mudd, approached Dana and asked ffs a personal favor that Dr. Samuel Mudd be passed through the lines, and the favor was granted.

During the long absence of Dr. Samuel Mudd Booth and Herrold grew uneasy, and the latter rode to near Bryantown where he hitched his horse to a willow on the banks of a small stream that coursed by and watched for the doctor to emerge through the lines, after which the two returned to the Miukl home, where the fugitives remained for the night. Here Mr. Dana interpolates that having learned that the two doctors were cousins and rank rebels, he summoned Dr. George Mudd, and then and there, to use Mr. Dana's own words, "I told him plainly what I thought of liim." Now wasn't that awful, to actually scold the wicked and perverse rebel, and thus fritter away time?

The fugitives left Dr. Mudd's next morning and took the road for Horsehead ferry. When in two and a half miles of there they saw a man about sixty years of age leaning on a fence in front of his house, and from him they gained the information that Booth rode up and asked for a drink of water and also for a drink of whiskey, but of the latter the old man had none. On inquiry from the old gentleman Booth said he had heard of the death of the President from some troops, and asked if there were any troops at the ferry. Being told that there were, he said that he and his partner were detectives in search of Booth and Herrold. When asked what he was doing with a crutch Bo0th replied that his horse had fallen on him. They then asked the way to Woodbine Ferry and started in that direction under spur. When within two miles of Woodbine they met an old darkey from whom they inquired the distance to the ferry, and being told they asked the news, to which the old darkey held up his hands: "Masse Lincum done been killed an Woodbine Ferry's chock full o' troops." When asked how many the old darkey replied, "Golly massa they's swarmin' like bees." The two horse- men rode on a short distance and into a mowing field where all trace of them was lost. But thev returned to

WANDERINGS OF J WII^KES BOOTH

the vicinity of Dr. Mudd's and entered the Sekiah Swamp from the east, where they spent two days and nights.

Dana says he made arrangements for troops to scour the swamps, but a heavy storm made it impossible. On returning to the swamp the next day Dana found where the horses had been tethered and the moss on which Booth and Herrold had slept. He also found the pieces of blanket used in muffling the horse's feet.

The dlft'erent movements they made from the time of the tragedy to the time of reaching the Sekiah Swamp shows that their course was laid out beforehand. They knew where to go and who their friends were.

Sekiah Swamp lies a short distance nearly west of Bryantown. It is full of quagmire and sinkholes and ex- ceedingly dangerous except by day, and then the greatest caution is necessary, even with one acquainted with the Swamp. Hence Booth and Herrold must have had a guide coming and going. They could never have gotten their horses there alone. To have attempted to do so would have meant their end. There is a small stream running through the swamp large enough to float a small craft". It empties into the Patuxent. After leaving the swamp the fugitives went to a log cabin in a pine thicket quite a distance from any road. It proved to be the dwelling of a man named Jones, who had a negress for a housekeeper. It was in this thicket the two horses were killed. Here Booth and Herrold were kept for two or three days when they were taken by boat to the outlet of the swamp to a point where the troops were stationed and from there car- ried to a point on the Patuxent nearly opposite Aquia creek. From there across the Potomac they made their way to Garrett's, some fifteen miles from Bowling Green,

In connection with this letter of Dana's, Historia ventures the substtance of another by another author, ex- cept not put in print. It was directed to Dana and written by F. E. Dumont, who was stationed at the bridge over the east branch of the Potomac that was crossed by Booth and Herrold coming into and going out of Washington City, the fatal night in 1865. Dumont was then a member of the old provost guard with headquarters at Fort Baker.

"Well do I remember," says Mr. Dumont, "I was detailed from Company C by Capt. A. W. Brigham, then stationed at Fort Mahan with orders to report to you at Fort Baker for duty as provost guard. I did so, and was employed to guard prisoners and in going to Uniontown to search for soldiers without passes. After a short term at headquarters I, with others of your command, was sent to guard the bridge leading from Washington to Union-

8 WAXnERIXGS OF J. WILKES BOOTH

town, d(iv,n l)y the Navy Yard. I was stationed at the Uniontown end of the bridge, wliere there were srates to step people from jroinar across either way, beinjr under orders frm Corporal Sullivan, with Sergeant Silas T. Cobb at the other end.

I was present the night Booth and Herrold rode across aftrr shooting the President. Wiien Booth rode up I was at tiie lilock house on duty and heard him ask the guard if anyone had gone through lately and heard the post guard answer, "No," and ask Booth what he was doing out that late at night, to which Booth made some kind of a reply about going to see some one on the T. B. Road. I helped open the gate and he rode away with the speed of the wind.s. A short time after this Herrold rnde up and inquired if any one liad just passed through riding a bay horse. On being t' Id tliere Iiad he muttered something about being a pretty fellow not to wait for_him. Well, I opened the gate and let him through and he dashed off in a hurry. About twenty minutes later we heard a great noise and furor across the bridge and in a short time got word that the President had been shot. I remember when you came to the bridge to meet some one who was sitting on the Wash- ington side, but never knew who it was until I read your letter in the Sunday Globe. I remember your going in pursuit, one of Company C's boys, Charley Jones, with you." Signed by F. A. Dumont late private in Company C, Third heavv artillerv, Massachusetts Volunteers.

AS RAY STANARD BAKER TELLS IT

April Ifi, 186.5, Col. L. C. Baker was summoned' by Secretary of War Stanton to appear before him at once, and early next morning he reached Washington, and ac- companied by his cousin, Lieut. L. B. Baker, a member of the bureau who had recently been mustered out of the First District of Columbia Cavalry. They went at once to the War Department and after a conference with Secretary Stanton began search for the assassin.

Up to this time, says Col. Baker, the confusion had been so great that but few of the ordinary detective meas- ures had been employed and no rewards had been offered. Little or no attempt had been made to collect and arrange clues in the furtherance of systematic search, which was without a directing leader.

\ reward of thirty thousand dollars was placarded for the apprehension of the assassin, the City of Washington subscribing twenty thousand and the rest from the War Department fund. On the handbill Booth was described as beinir five feet eight inches tall, weight about 160 pounds, compactly built; hair jet black and inclined to wave at the

WANDERINGS OF ,1 WILKES 1500TH 9

bottom, medium length, rear part; heavy brows and black eyes; large seal ring on little finger; head inclined forward while talking and looks down. Other rewards by different states and other ways swelled the amount to two or three hundred thousand dollars. Fabulous reports were current as to the reward awaiting the capturer of the fugitive — the sum being ])laced as high as a million dollars. This, immense reward brought forth hundreds of detectives, re- cently discharged soldiers, and Union officers; in fact a vast hoard of adventurers after the get-rich-quick reward. Into the field of .search, and the whole of southern Maryland and eastern \'irginia were ransacked and scoured in a mad rivalry for the hoard of Xibelung until it would seem impossible for anyone to escape, however well his routings. And yet ten days later the fugitives were still at large.

At the , beginning of the search it was on the theory that Jefferson Davis, President of the Confederacy, and his cabinet were in the plot, and that Booth and Herrold had been inveigled into the game as goats in the hands of more skilled companions. Therefore pictures were pro- cured of Davis, George H. Saunders, Beverly Tucker, Jacob Thompson, and a number of others, all being charged with conspiracy.

Lieut. Baker and a lialf dozen men went into southern Maryland to distribute the handbills describing the fugitives and to exhibit the pictures. They also made search for clues but found themselves harrassed by private detectives and soldiers who sought to throw them off the trail in the hope of following it themselves.

On returning to Washington Col. Baker was told that his companions had not gone south but had taken some other direction, probably toward Philadelphia, where Booth had numerous female friends.

"Now, sir," an.swered Col. Baker, "You are mistaken. There is no place of safety for Booth except in the south among friends."

Acting on this belief Col. Baker, Theodore Woodall, one of the lower Maryland detectives, accompanying with and expert telegrapher named Brachwith. They had been out less than ten days when the\' discovered a clu-e from a negro who told them that two men answering the descrip- tion of Booth and Herrold had crossed the Potomac the Sunday before below Port Tobacco in a fishing boat. The negro was hurried to Washington on the next rioat. Col. Baker questioned the darkey and showed him a large assort- ment of photographs, those of Booth and Herrold bein'j at once recognized as the parties who had crossed in the boat. Baker after a conference with Stanton sent a request to General Handcock for a detachment of cavalry to guard his

10 WANDERLVGS OF J. WILKES BOOTH

men sent ii> pursuit and Baker was ordered to the quarter- master's oflFice to arrange transportation down the Potomac. On the return of Lieut. Baker he was informed that he and E. J. Conger and other detectives were to have charge of the party.

These three men held a conference in which Col. Baker explained his theory of the whereabouts of Booth and Herrold. In half an hour Lieut. Edword F. Daugherty of the 16th New York cavalry, with twenty-five men, Ser- geant Boston Corbett second in command, reported to Col. Baker for duty, having been directed to go with him and Conger wherever they might order. Lieut. Baker and his men galloped post haste down the Sixth street dock and hurried on the government tug John S. Ide at 3 o'clock and that same afternoon the tug reached Belle Plain, land- ing where there was a sharp point in the river. Col. Baker scoured the river between there and the Rhappahanock. On disembarking Conger and Daugherty rode nhead, I>ieut. Baker and his men following within hailing distance. They stepped at the homes of prominent Confederates to make inquiry, saying they were being pursued by the Yankees and in crossing the river had become separated from two of their men, one being lame, but no one admitted having seen them. At dawn the men shed their disguise and halted for rest and refreshments.

Again in their saddles they struck across the country toward Port Conway on the Rhappahanock about twenty miles below Fredericksburg. About three o'clock they drew rein in front of a planter's home half a mile from town and ordered dinner for themselves and horses. Conger who was suffering from nn old wound was about all in and he and the others, except Baker and a corporal, dropped down on the road-side for a brief rest. Baker fearing that the presence of the scoiiting party might give warning to Booth and companions should they be hiding in the neighborhood, pushed on to the bank of the Rhappahanock, where he saw dozing in the sunshine a fisherman in front of a small cottage, his name being Rollins. He was asked if he had seen a lame man cross the river within the past few days^ to which the iii^n answered that he had, and there were other men with him; that he had ferried them across the river. Baker produced his photographs and Rollins pointed out the pictures of Booth and Herrold. These men, he said, were the men. except "this one" pointing to Booth's picture, "had no moustache."

"With this information Baker felt satisfied that he had struck a hot trail; that with all the vast army of detectives he was within a touchdown of the goal. He at once sent the corporal back with orders for Conger and his men to

WANDERINGS OF .1 WILKES BOOTH 11

come up without delay. After the corporal had left the fisherman, Rollins, explained that the men had hired him to ferry tliem across the river on the previous afternoon and that just before startinjr three men rode up and greeted the fujiitives. Rollins said he knew the three men well; that they were Major M. B. Ruggles, Lieut. Bain- bridge and Capt. Jett, of Mosby's command. On being asked where they went this fisherman drawled out:

"Well, this Capt. Jett has a lady love at Bowling Green and I reckon he went over there." As the cavalry came up Baker told Rollins he would have to accompany them to Bowling Green as a guide, to which Rollins objected on the ground that he would incur the hatred of his neighbors, none of whom favored the Union cause. "But you might make me your prisoner," with a slow drawl, "and thfn I would have to go."

Rollins' old ferry boat was shaky, and although the loading was done with the greatest dispatch it took three trips to get the detachment across, when the march for Bowling Green began. Baker and Conger who were riding ahead saw two horsemen standing motionless on the top of a hill their black forms showing well against the sky — probablj' Bainbridge and Ruggles, and Conger and Baker at once spotted them as friends of Booth who had in some way got wind that a searching party was near. Baker signalled the horsemen for a parley, but instead they put their necks to their horses withers and hastily sralLncd up the road. Baker and Conger made ch^r -. but 'he two horsemen at full speed dashed away, and ju:-h as ih'^y were about to be overtaken dashed into a blind trail leading from the main road into the forest, they possibly being on vigil to warn Booth, who was at the Garrett home, of approach- ing danger. The pursuers held a briff cnr.ferf^nce, deciding not to follow farther but to reach Bowling Green as soon as possible. These men. Baker and CmTei- say they were afterwards informed, were Bainbridge aiul Rugjrles and that Booth at the time was less than half a mile away lying on the grass at the Garrett home. Baker says also that Booth saw his pursuers as they neared his hiding place. Baker and Conger believed Booth to be at Bowling Green fifteen miles away, and so they pushed on.

It was nearinir midnight when the searching party clattered into Bowling Green, and with scarcrlv a spoken command surrounded the dark rambling hotel, Baker to the front door and Conger to the rear from which came the dismal barking of a dosr. Presently a light flickered and some one opened the door and inquired in a frightened female voice what was wanted. Baker thrust his toe inside and flinging the door open was confronted by a lone

12 WANDERINGS OF J. WILKES BOOTH

woman. At this moment Conger came through the back way led by a negro. The woman admitted at once that there was a Confederate cavalryman sleeping in the house and pointed out the room. With candle in hand Baker and Conger at once entered: Captain Jett sat up, staring at them:

"What do you want?" At which he was informed that he was wanted. "You took Booth across the river," said Conger, "and you know where he is.'' Jett declared that they were mistaken — were barking up the wrong tree, as he rolled out of bed.

"You lie," shouted Conger springing forward with pistol close to Jett's head. By this time the cavalrymen had crowded into the room and Jett caught sight of the light glinting against their brass buttons and on their drawn revolvers. Jett assured them on his honor as a' gentleman that he would tell them all he knew if they would promise to shield him from all complicity in the matter.

"Yes, if we catch Booth," was Conger's answer.

"Booth is at the Garrett home three miles this side of Port Conway," said Jett, "if you came that way you must have frightened him off."

In less than thirty minutes the pursuing party was doubling back over the road they had just traveled, with Jett and Rollins as prisoners, the bridle reins of the horses ridden by them fastened to the men on either side. It was a black night, no moon, no stars, and the dust rose in choking clouds. For two days the men had eaten little and slept less and they were worn out so they could scarcely sit on their jaded horses and yet they plunged and stumbled on through the darkness over fifteen miles of meandering road, reaching the Garrett home about 4 o'clock on the morning of April 26.

Like many other southern homes the Garrett home stood far back from the road with only a bridle gate at the end of a long lane. So exhausted were the cavalrymen that some of them dropped in the sand when their horses stopped, and had to be kicked into -wakefulness. Rollins and Jett were placed under guard while Baker and Conger made a dash up the lane, some of the cavalrymen following. Garrett's home was an old fashioned southern one, with a wide plaza reaching full length in front, and with barns and tobacco houses looming up big and dark, apart.

Baker leaped from his horse to the steps and thundered on the door. A moment later a window was cautiously opened and a man thrust his head out. Before he could say a word Baker seized his hand with: "Open the door and be quick about it." The man tremblingly complied and

WANDERINGS OF J WILKES BOOTH 13

Baker stepped inside and closed the door behind him. A candle was quickly lighted and Baker demanded Garrett to reveal the hiding place of the men who had been staying at his house.

"They are gone to the woods," the old gentleman replied. At this Baker thrust his revolver in Garrett's face: "Don't tell me that.''

Just at this point Conger came in with young Garrett wiio explained to them that if they would not harm his father he would tell them where the fugitives were. He said the men did go to the woods last evening when some cavalry passed by but came back and wanted them to take them over to Lauisa Court House. Continuing, young Gar- rett told Baker that they could not leave home before morning, if at all; that they were becoming suspicious of the strangers, and th;«t his father told them he could not harbor them. Baker here interrupted with a demand to know where they were, at which young Garrett replied that his l)rother Iiad locked them in the barn fearing they might steal the horses, and he was then watching them in the barn. Baker asked no further questions but taking young Garrett by the arm made a dash toward the barn, when Conger ordered the cavalrymen to follow and formed them in such position around the barn that no one could escape. By this time the soldiers had found the boy guard- in" the barn and had brought him out with the key. Baker unlocked tlie door ;ind told the boy that as the men were his guests he must go inside and induce thera to come out and surrender. But the boy faltered, declaring that the men were armed to the teeth and that they would shoot him down. But he discovered that he was looking into the black mouth of Baker's revolver, and hastily slid through tile doorway.

There was a sudden rustle of corn blades and voices in low conver.sation. \]\ around the soldiers were picketed wrapped in inky blackness and uttering no sound. In the midst of a little circle of light Baker stood at the doorway with drawn revolver, while Conger had gone to the rear.

During the heat and excitement of the chase Baker had as.'-utned command of the cavalrvmen somewhat to the umbrage of T-ieut. Daugherty, who kept himself in the background during the remainder of the night. Farther away in the Garrett home the family huddled, trambling and frightened.

Suddenly from within the barn a clear loud voice rang out. "You have betrayed me. Leave at once or I will shoot you."

Baker then called to the men in the barn to turn over their arms to young Garrett and surrender at once, declar-

14. WANDERINGS OF .1. WILKES BOOTH

ing that if they didn't the barn would be fired and there would be a shooting match. At this young Garrett came rushing to the door begging to be let out. He said he would do anything he could but did not want to risk his life in the presence of two desperate nnen. Baker opened the door and young Garrett rushed out with a bound. He pointed to the candle Baker had in his hand, with: "Put that out or he will shoot you by its light," whispered in a frightened tone. Baker placed the candle on the ground a short distance from the door so it would light the space in front of the door, then called to Booth to surrender, who in a clear full voice replied that there was a man in those who wished to surrender, in which he was heard to speak the name of Herrold. "Leave, will you? Go. I don't want you to stay." At the door Herrold was whimpering — "let me out, let me out. I know nothing about this man in here." (In fact, did he?) Baker informed Herrold that if he would put out his arms he could surrender; but the poor frightened wretch hadn't any arms, and Baker wa.s so assured by Booth. "The arms are mine," shouted Booth, "and I shall keep them." By this time Herrold was pray- ing piteously to be let out lest he be shot. Baker opened the door a trifle and ordered Herrold to put his hands out, which he did, and the moment his hands passed through the door tliey were seized by Baker and Herrold was whipped out and turned over to the soldiers. "You had better come out too,'' said Baker to Booth, who inquired to know who Baker was; that he wanted to know if he was being taken by his friends or by his enemies. "It makes no difference who we .■Tt," was the curt reply, "We know and want you. We have fifty well armed men stationed around this barn. You cannot escape and we do not want to kill you."

After a moment of faltering Booth called from his

cribbed imprisonment that the Captain (Baker) had put

a hard case up to him, as he was lame; "But give me a chance," he said. "Draw up your men twenty yards from here and I will fight your whole command." To which Baker replied that they were not there to fight, but "to take ycu." Booth asked time to consider and was told by Baker that he could have just two minutes and no more. .\fter a portion of the allotted time had passed. Booth called to Captain Baker: "Captain I believe you are a brave and honorable man. I have had half a dozen chances to shoot you, and have a bead on you now. Withdraw your men from the door and I will come out, as I do not want to kill you. Gi\e me this chance for my life; for I will not be taken alive." Even in this desperate danger Booth did not forget to be theatrical.

WANDERINGS OF J WILKES BOOTH 15

"Your time is up," said Baker firmly, "and if you don't come out we will make a bonfire of the barn."

Then came a final defy from Booth in clarion tones which could be heard by the women cowering on the Gar- rett porch several rods away. "Just prepare a stretcher for me.'' Adding after a slight pause, "One more star on the glorious banner."

Conger now came around the corner of the barn and

asked Baker if he was ready. After a nod of "yes" Conger

stepped noisely hack and drew a bunch of corn husks

thrcuuh a crack in the barn, scratched a match and in a

moment the whole interior was brilliant with light. Baker

jarred the door and peeked in. Booth had been snugged

against the mow, but now sprang forward, half blinded by

the glow of the fire, his crutches under one arm and

carbine leveled in the direction of the flames as if to shoot

the man who set them going, but he was unable to see on

account of the darkness outside. After a brief hesitation

he reeled forward. An old table was near at hand, at which

Booth cauglit liold as though to cast it upside down on

the flames, but he was not quick enough, and dropping

"one" crutch hobbled toward the door. About the middle of

the barn he drew himself up to full height and seemed to

take in the entire situation. His hat was gone and his

dark wavy hair tossed hack from his hish white forehead.

lips firmly compressed as the riiddy firelight glow revealed

a pale and palid face. In his full dark eyes there was an

expression of hatred mingled with terror and the defiance

of a tiger hunted to its lair. Tn one hand he held a carbine,

in the other a revolver and his belt contained another

re\' her and a huge knife, seeming determined to fight to

the end no matter what numbers appeared against him.

By this time the flanT-s in the corn blades had mounted to

the rafters arching the hunted refugee in a glow more

brilliant than the lights of any theatre in which he had

ever played. Suddenly Booth threw aside his "remaining"

crutch, dropped his carbine, raised his revolver and made

a lunge for the door, evidently with the intention of

.«hooting down whoever mi.'xht bar his way, and make a

desperate dash for liberty fighting as he ran. Then came

a shock that sounded above the roar of the flames. Booth

leaped in the air, then pitched forward on his face. Baker

was on him in an instant and grabbed both arms, a pre-

cautirn entirely unnecessary; for Booth would struggle no

more. In a jitfy Conger and his soldiers came rushing

in wihile Baker turned tlie wounded man over and felt

for his heart.

"He must have shot himself," remarked Baker. "I saw him the moment the fire was lighted. If not, the man

16 WANDERINGS OF ,) WILKES BOOTH

who did the shooting goes back to Washington in irons for disobeying orders.''

In the excitement that followed the firing of the barn Boston Corbett, accompanying the cavalry detachment, had gone to the side of the crib, placed his revolver through a crack, and just as Booth was about to spring to the door- way, fired the fatal shot.

Booth's body was carried out and laid under an applf tree. Water was dashed in his face and Baker tried to make him drink but he seemed unable to swallow. Present- ly, however, he opened his eyes and seemed to understand the situation. His lips moved and Baker leaned down to hear what he might say. "Tell mother — tell mother — " He faltered and tlien became unconscious.

The flames now grew so intense that it was necessary to remove the dying man to the plaza of the house where he was laid on a mattress. A cloth wet with brandy was applied to his lips, at which he revived a little, then opened his eyes and said in a tone of bitterness, "Oh, kill me! Kill me quick!"

"No Booth," replied Baker, "We don't want you to die. You were shot against orders." Then he was uncon- scious again for several minutes and all thought he would never speak again, but his breast heaved and he acted as if he wanted to say something. Baker placed his ear to the dying man's mouth, when Booth in a faltering and scarcely audiljle whisper said, "Tell mother I died for my country. I did what I tliought was best." With a feeling of pity and tenderness Baker lifted the limp hand, but it fell back again by his side as if he were dead. He seemed uncon- scious of the movement, and turning his eyes muttered: "Hopeless. Useless." And — he was dead.

THE PROSECUTION RESTS

Now that you iiave read the story of the pursuit by General Dana and the statement from R. Standard Baker you are no doubt convinced that the man killed at the Garrett home on the memorable 25th of April, 1865, was none other than J. Wilkes Booth and that any one who would claim that the Enid suicide of January, 1903 was Booth should be made president of an Anamias club or sent to a lunacy resort. But pause a moment. Who was it wrote the account of the killing at the Garrett home, and when was it written? Get out from under the dazzling light and take a serious look. It was, like the Dana story, written a third of a century subsequent to the event; but unlik* the Dana story, written by one who, barring the lapse of memory after so many years, was in a position, to know; whereas, R. Standard Baker was not nearer than

g:M

%

X

\

, :;.--^-i:.--^ifkr}x: -.:sr,\<'xstfk:>^n-e!w.s^^M-^ssr¥£isM''ia^

"Ge<;rge" eleven days after eiiibalniing.

Booth as an Evangelist.

W A N F) K R I N C; S O F .1 X^' I T K V. S P, O OT H 1

Washington City to the scene of the tragedy, had no part in it nor even in the pursuit; who never saw Booth eitiier "before or after," his only connection with the great na- tional tragedy was in being a relative of the Bakers who did have a hand in the affair. Besides, it was but a collec- tion of published and bar room stories embellished with lilies of the valley dashed over with sprinkles of new-mown hay to give wholesome fragrance to dead matter; for — Mr. Baker was a novelist with the imagination of a poet. Hence he grew florescent in his account written many years after the tragedy. Now his raven locks waved like fairy tresses. "Word painters in that day often consulted "spirits". This may account for Mr. Baker seeing two crutches, and how he came to see him "discard" one of them. When all reliable evidence is Booth never had but one crutch, and Bainbridge and Rutledge who took Booth to the Garrett home declare he abandoned the crutch for a large cane. This may be why the "leg came off with the boot" when the body was buried at Baltimore. Many other tilts of poetic license might be called up.

The prcsecution closed with the exhuming of the body from its tomb in the room of the old prison and buried in Mount Green cemetery. It was recognized as the body of J. Wilkes Booth by the brother Edwin and Joe Ford, proprietor of tiie Ford tiieatre where the tragedy took place — recognized liy a gold tooth taken from the dead man by the undertaker. Witli a statement that as other and the final evidence, it is stated that on removing tlie boot from one foot, the limb remained in the boot.

The prosecution concludes its testimony by introduc- tion of a few letters from various persons. All of them, bear in mind, contemporaneous with the Dana and the Baker statements. One of these is from Gen. Lew Wallace who was the Judge Advocate before whom Mrs. Surratt and David E. Herrold were tried (court martial). In his letter Mr. Wallace says that of "My personal knowledge the body was brought to Washington City and buried in a room of the old brick jail; that some years subsequent it was lurned over to the relatives of Booth and buried in Mount Green cemetery, Baltimore." "To my personal knowledge" is putting it pretty strong and positive, 'coming from so eminent a man as Gen. Wallace; but it may be hinted that the General was also a novelist whose Ben Hur proved f)ne of the most popular biblical fictions ever given to the public — the book, its dramatization for the stage, and later, as a movie attraction.

Gen. Dana writes that to his certain knowledge the body was brought to Washington City on the steamer John S. Ide and "buried under a slab in the navv vnrd and a

18 WAXDERIXGS OF J. WILKES BOOTH

battery of artillery hauled over it to obliterate any trace," etc. That, too, is pretty strong evidence.

.\nother witness proves to be a star in the prosecution box: William P. Wood of Washington City, who, soon after writing his "testimony" — died, in 1898. At the time Mr. Lincoln was killed he was a government detective, and on receipt of a wire from Secretary Stanton hastened to Washington. In speaking of the disposition of the Garrett home body he is solemnly certain it was taken from the steamer John S. Ide at the wharf in Washington City April 27 and transferred by Capt. Baker and his nephew Lieut. Baker of the New York 71st Volunteers, and taken down the Potomac to an island 27 miles out from Wash- ington and buried.

Another star witness for the prosecution was Capt. E. W. Hillard of Metropolis, Illinois, who about the same date as the other letters, declares that he was one of the four who carried the remains from the old prison room (described by Wallace); that the body was taken about ten miles down the Potomac and sunk; that the storj' of Booth being buried in the navy yard was given out merely to satisfy the people. (But Mr. Dana's statement was a third of a century after the event.) Still another cock- sure witness declares that the body was taken to a sand bar of the Potomac and consumed in quick-lime.

Xow you have the evidence of the prosecution. Would you as a juryman, even before the defense has introduced an item in rebuttal find Corbett guilty as charged? Pos- sibly. But as a matter of form, if for no other reason, the defense will present a few statements and circumstances. The first is a confession from a man going under the name of John St. Helen — made to a friend — Finis L. Bates, when he, St. Helen, supposed he was at the gate of eternity at Cranberry, Texas, in 1878.

BOOTH MAKES CONFESSION

The story here drifts back to the confession made by Booth at Cranberry, Texas, in 1878, when he supposed the final accounting was at hand. For one peculiar character- istic in his temperament was an inclination to moody spells of despondency, and when taken ill invariably giving him- self up to die, no doubt dividing desire between a hope he would and a desire to still hang on longer. It was during a spell of illness this confession was made. The village physician had been summoned, meantime his friend Bates was a frequent visitor at the bedside. Despite all efforts of the physician the patient continued to grow worse until it seemed evident the time had at last come for the parting of the ways. -\nd the physician so informed his patient.

WANDERINGS OF J WILKES BOOTH 10

that if he had any arranging to do or any statement to make he could not go to it any too soon. Booth then requested to see Bates, who was at once notified that his friend was dying and wished to see him. In a few minutes Mr. Bates was at the bedside. Booth motioned him to bend his ear close, he being too feeble to speak in more than a halting whisper. "You have no doubt before thi.s," Booth started out, "surmised that I was not what I have pretended, and that my name is not the one by which you and the good people of Texas have known me. But before I begin I must exact from you a most solemn pledge that you will guard the secret until I am finally laid away," which pledge was readily made, "and I feel that with a few quick breaths the end will come. I implore that you believe me, for it is from tlie lips of a dying man. I also ask that when yoH hear my story you will not despise me, something I can scarcely expect. Yes, the angel who holds the shears is impatient to clip the thread that holds life on its slender line. Nor can anyone conceive of a motive for notoriety after one is dead and can never know nor appreciate it. Besides that nrtoriety is such that no one would be likely to desire it, even that no one would relish, even beycng the vale should spirits there realize. No, I have only one motive — that the world may know that which through all thesf" ^-enrs has be^n hidden, that the man who killed Pres- ident Lincoln lived to suffer the consequences of his own deed, to repent in sack cloth — to pay a thousand fcld the penalty — a continuous never-ceasing penalty with the debt still owing." Then pulling his listener still nearer he con- tinued: "Lock at inc. .Vnd now I shall ask yrii to get from under my pillow a small tintype taken by an itinerant photographer at Glen Rose Mills some time after you and General Taylor visited there July 4, 1877. I want you to retain it as a source of identification when I am no more; and note from its date that it can be the likeness of no other than he who knows that his end is near. T am not what T have pretended to be. I am John Wilkes Booth, tli'= man who k'lled President Lincoln." The tintype was taken from beneath the pillow as requested. Borth gave one sad remorseful look at the picture, then motioned it away and closed his eyes in a seeming rest. Brmrly was applied to the sinking man's lips and his brow bathed to revive him, only to court a gentle recline into the ariiis of that calm sleep which seems the sleep of death. But fate proved the mentor and after a season of halting on the dark border. Booth looked up, and the sleep of sleeps passed to fitful waking. This was in the morning, and with it slight evidences that after all the patient miaht recover: at least such the hope of not only immediate friends, but of

20

WANDERINGS OF J WILKES BOOTH

the physician as well, that the patient would soon pull froni beneath the raven's shadow. Although for a number ot days the case seemed to hang in the balance. After a further season of patient waiting, the full recovery of the sick man proved a phophesy come true.

Having fullv recovered Booth became a trifle feverish as to what he m"ight have said during his delirous moments. On the occasion of a usual visit to Mr. Bates' "ffice he was reminded of .the seriousness of the siege through which he had just passed:

"Do vou remember the things I said when I was so near the "gates of— I need not mention." Pending reply there was an expression of evident anxiety.

"I remember many things you said," was the respond. "Then you have my life in your keeping,— but for- tunatelv as my attorney." .

Mr Bates somewhat evasively replied: "Do you refer to what vnu said of your sweetheart and last '"ve.- ' ^^ To which Booth in a solemn tone, half to himselt, l have had a sweetheart," then recovering; yet more earnest to his questioner: "but no last love, and I could not in the most wildest delirium have touched a subject so foreign to mv thoua-hts, and of such infinite unconcern." Raising In deep medlpv between self and self-re.straint he paused, and then paced" back and forth a few times Suddenly as if da.shing awav som intruding spell tilted his hat_ a trifle to one side, "folded his arms in rocking attitude in front, accompanied with a few waving pantomimes, straight at his .n.estioner: "You perpetuated quite a clever evasion of one of the thin-s I did say— something," placing his right arm on the auditor's shoulder, the other swung carelessly at his >;ide— "something of extreme moment to me inen removing his hand from the shoulder faced his auditor and in a sort of confessional tone and slight palm-gesture with the right hand, "suflPicient now, that on some future day when I am in better frame to talk and you to listen, mj^ hi^toTV. the secret of my name, you shall more fulh know.

" "At vour convenience, John— St. Helen. I am sure thrit it will h° rf more than curious interest to me. Tells Of His Escape and Wanderings It was .some davs after when the air was balmy, and the sun lowering, sheding lingering tints on the roots ol Granberrv. Mr. Bates and Booth took a stroll to the out- vkirts of "the citv and seated on a rock, the shadow of which

reflected in phantom weirdness in the waters below. Here, true to promise. Booth unbosomed himself to his confidant, jrivin^ an intelligent and minute detail of his life from the time when he was before the footlights at the age of seven- teen to th« traL'edv which sent him forth a hounded prey

WANDERINGS OF .1 WILKES BOOTH 21

for the man-hunter and the professional reward grabber, down to his hinding in Glen Rose Mills, and thence to Gran- berry and to the very present.

"Since you have so much of my past in your keeping I shall if you care to listen give you still more with which to burden the chambers of secrecy until the last parting of the ways. I was born on a farm near Baltimore, and at once christened as a Catholic to which faith my pepple belonged. I am the son of Junius Booth, Sr., and brother of Junius and Edwin Booth, the actors. My stage-life began at the age of seventeen and continued until the break- ing out of the war, having by that time saved up something like twenty thousand dollars in gold, which, owing to shaky financial conditions in this country, was deposited in Canad- ian banks on which I drew when in need of money, these checks being readily cashed at any bank on this side of the St. Lawrence. My sympathies were wholly with the southland, and my enthusiasm In its cause practically ended my dramatic career so far as public appearances went, except now and then filling some star engagement, the last being the one ever memorable at the Ford Theatre the dark night of the darkest hour in any human life. Fraternal hatred had grown to a violent pitch until it seemed every man's hand was at his neighbor's throat. And this was not confined to one side in the fearful struggle. Large rewards had been offered for the capture of President Davis of the Confederacy, in some cases — "dead or alive." What were termed the most patriotic airs on the streets of the north and around their army camps breathed of this carnal spirit, and "John Brown's Body," alternated with "We'll Hang Jeff Davis to a Sour Apple Tree," and other ensan- guined strains. It was then I first conceived the idea that I could best serve my country by planning and carrying out a scheme to kidnap President Lincoln and underground him to Richmond to be held as a hostage of war in case these drastic threats against President Davis should be car- ried out," etc. Booth insisted that during the entire sum- mer he took the initiative and made no confidences until well along in the season. He had made a number of cursory .surveys between the National Capitol and Rich- mond, Capitol of the Confederacy, searching for the safest and most feiitible route. He had made the acquaintance of David E. Herrold, a callow-seeming young druggist with red hair, and from M'hom he had purchased greased paints and other stage cosmetics, and incidently learned that the young druggist was quite familiar with the lay of the coun- try along and tlirough which I>incoln would have to be carried — knew every crook and turn, every secret path and bv-wav. He had also learned that the voung man was not

22 WANDERINGS OF .1 WILKES BOOTH

nearly so callow as he seemed, but possessed of a secretive resourcefulness that could not fail to be valuable. And above all, he had learned that young Herrold was the soul of loyalty to a friend, and a person in whom the most implicit confidence could be placed; that he had steady pulse and unflinching nerve — ^bold and daring but still about it. It was through Herrold he learned that John H. Sur- ratt, who was also a "cosmetic" acquaintance of Herrold, wa.s in the secret service of the Confederacy plying between Richmond and Canadian points, and hence must be familiar with bridle-paths and secret ways along the route. Bearing a letter of introduction from Herrold he visited Surratt — fir.'^t at the Surrattsville tavern kept by Mrs. Surratt, and that the only time he — Surratt — could be caught would be during some night as he was traveling through. At this meeting he did not meet the mother and confined his mis- sion to gathering what he could as to the secret by-paths referred to. Soon after this Mrs. Surratt moved to Wash- ington City and opened up a rooming house, leaving others in charge of the Surrattsville tavern. lycarning through Herrold that Surratt would pass through Washington on a certain night he paid a second visit — this time at the Sur- ratt rooming house in Washington. At this meeting he for the first time ntet Mrs. Surratt, but only in a casual way. .'Vt this meeting he also, for the first time, unfolded his scheme to kidnap President Lincoln. While Surratt ex- pressed sympathy with the kidnapping idea he was not en- listed in the scheme, but Booth determined that he and Herrold would work it out alone, lest too many in the plot might cause a leak. He and Herrold made a number of trips over the routes both together and alone, and a number of plans with dates were fixed to do the kidnappinq:, hut something had at each time intervened to balk the effort, and they determined that this time they would carry out the scheme at all hazards and had just made a final survey along the route and were returning to Washington to carry out the plot. They stopped over for the night at -Surrattsville, and next morning. April 1 1-, 186.5, saddled their steeds and started for the National Capitol. On crossing the East Potomac bridge they refused to cive their names ard v-ere arrested at the 'Xavy Yard end and de- tained until the afternoon when they were by- order issued by Gen. Augur calling in all guards and discharging all prisoners, released.

They arrived at the Kirkwood Hotel — rendezvous of the kidnapping contingents, and where incidentally Vice- President Andrew Johnson also roomed. On crossing the bridge Booth first learned of the surrender of Lee and the fall of Richmond and concluded there was nothing left

WANDERINGS OF J WILKES BOOTH 23

to do but leave the country and abandon southland to what was believed to be a miserable fate, of disporting and sweeping confiscations and official plunder by an invading foe. However, he says, about 4:30 p. m. he met * * * who taunted him with cowardice, of wincing at the crucial period, of faltering at the supreme moment, winding up with the hint: "Are you too faint-hearted to kill?" Then and there the idea of daring over-came Booth, he declares, and that then and there he determined to act on the hint. Here with hand raised on high and calling on his maker to witness, he avers solemnly that this was the first time any idea entered into his mind other than the kidnapping of the President. But as General and Mrs. Grant were to be guests of President and Mrs. Lincoln and occupj' a box at the Ford theatre together, presented a dangerous barrier. He was known at the bridge; he and Herrold were already under suspicion, having but a few hours previous been arrested as suspicious characters in broad day when entering the city via the East Potomac bridge, and to carry out the idea meant certain death, or seemingly so, which belief he communicated to * * *. And that it would be impossible to escape through the military lines of protection completely surrounding the city. But he was assured that arrangements would be made so that Grant would not attend the theatre, to which Booth replied under such assurances he would strike the blow for vanquished and helpless southland. Mr. * * » left the room, return- ing in about an hour sayin? it had been effectually arranged; that Grant would be suddenly called out of the city; that such persons as would occupy the box would not interfere, and that he would be permitted to escape by way of the route over which he and Herrold had entered the city that afternoon; that all guards would be called off by order of Gen. C. C. Augur that evening, but if there should be guards on the bridge the only requirement would be to use the password "T. B." unless more should be demanded, in which case the words "T. B. Road." Furthermore, on the death of I,incoln, Andrew Johnson, a southern man would become President, and that in his official capacity would in case of a show down grant full pardon.

Fired by the spirit of what Booth believed to be patriot- ism, and hoping to serve the southern cause, hopeless as it then was, as no other man could do, he regarded it as an opportunity for heroism for his country; declaring that and that alone was behind his purpose; rather than any feeling of hatred or malice against the President. And on further telling, says Booth, that Johnson would protect the people of the south from personal prosecution and the confiscation of their remaining land estates. Acting upon these assur-

WANDKRINGS OF .1 WILKES BOOTH

ancvs and with no other motive tlian stated he began at onre prepiirntion for carrying out the plot by goinp to the theatre and among other tilings arranging the door leading into the box to be occupied by the presidential party, so that he could raise the fastenings, enter the box and close the door behind hiui so it could be easily opened from the inside. He then returned to the Kirkwood and made his derringer ready so it would not miss fire. He then met • • • and informed him of his readiness to carry out the plot; that about 8:30 they repaired to the Kirkwood bar and drank a glass of brandy to the success of the undertaking; thence to the street arm-in-arm, and at the parting:

".Make as sure of your aim as have been arrangements for your escape, for in your complete success lies our only hope." Then being assured that the plot would be success- fully carried out Mr. • * • replied: "Then from now on a southern man is President of the United States," at which a hand-grasp an final good-bye.

Rooth says that he then returned to the theatre and saw the President and party enter the box, and he moved position to a con\enient ]inint, and at a time when the pl-^y was well before the footlights he entered the box. closed the door and fired the fatal shot which imade Andrew Johnson President, and he. Booth, an outcast, a wanderer, and ever after with the brand of Cain. ".\s I fired." says Booth, "the same instant that I leaped from the box to the stage my riirht leg becoming tangled in the drapery, fracturing my right shin bone about six or eight inches above the ankle. T reached my horse in safety which .by arrangement was being held by Herrold back of the theatre and close to the door. With Herrold's assistance I mount- ed and rode at full speed, reaching the east Potomac bridge, crossing the same at full pace. On coming to the gate at the east end there stood a federal guard who asked, "Where .ire you iming?" to which I merely used the letters T. B. On a further question easy to answer, "Where?" the full password, T. B. Road was given. Without further cere- mony the guard called for help in raising the gate quickly, when I again put spur for Surrattsville, where I waited for Herrold to catch up as prearranged. After waiting a few minutes Herrold joined me and we rode the remainder of the night until about I o'clock in the morning of April 15. when we reached the home of Dr. Samuel Mudd. where my right riding boot was removed by cutting a slit in it and my wounded foot and leg were dressed by a banding of strips of cloth and splints of a cigar box. We remained at the ^Tndd h^me the r»>mninder f^f the day, and nt night- fall, leaving Ihe 'lit ridintr bnrt. \vp procredrd ( n I'wr

WANDERINGS OF J WILKES HOOTII 25

journey, usiuK a crutch luadc from a broom handle. Our next liaul up was at tlie liome of a southern sympatlii/.er named Cox, about 4 or 5 o'clock of April 16". Mr. Cnx refu.'-ed to admit us in the bouse on account of news of tli-i President beinj; shot havinfr preceeded us. However, be called his manager and instructed bim to bide us in a pine thicket near the Potomac banks just back of the planta- tion. The manajrer was of medium beigiit, approximately my weipbt, but not quite .so tall, swarthy, black eyes and bair, with a short irrowth of beard. T called him by the name familiarly used when not knowinfi' the true name — "Johnny, afterwards Ruddy because we bad beard Cox address bin) by that na'ue." Neg'otiations were made with Ruddy to deliver Booth and Herrold safely across the country to the care and custody of the Confederate soldiers under Mo.sby's command on the Rhappahanock near and south of Bowlinsr Green: $300.00 dollars beinjr the retainer airreed upon. Here Ruddy left Booth and Herrold in hid- ings' and started on foot to Bowling Green, a distance of something like thirty-five miles, to arrange to meet Lieu- tenants Rutledge and Bainbridge at a time and place to be made definite, on the Rhappahanock — dividinsr line be- tween camps of federal and confederate forces. Ruddy was gone from the 17th to the 21st, meantime Booth and Herrold being guarded and cared for by Cox's half-brother Jones. Ruddy had arranged with Captain Jett, Lieutenant.s Rutledge and Bainbridge to meet Booth, Herrold and Ruddy at a designated point on the Rhappahanock near Ports Conway and Royal at 2 o'clock p. m. of April 22. Whither they started on the evening of April 21, crossing to the south side of the Potomac 18 miles from the point agreed upon through an open country 18 miles to the Rappahanock. Of course it would be over-risk to attempt this venture, especially as the country was being scoured by federal man-hunter.s — soldiers in a vie as to who should keep the other fellow off track until bagging the game for the "honor" of it: others to throw every one else off track in orde rto gain the fabuloiis reward said to have been offered without a fifty-fifty divide. Hence Ruddy made a deal with a plantaticm darky who owned a pair of bony ponies and an old ramshackle wagon. T^ewis, the old darkey, placed straw in the bottom of the wagon bed and on this Booth was tucked and stretched out so as to take up as little visible exterior as possible like a sealed package to prevent discovery. More straw and slats were lain across the lower section of the wagon box on which an old mattress was .spread, old nuilts, blanket remnants, and such other rub- bish as a darkey might be expected to possess on making an inventory of .stock by way of moving. To make the

26 WANDERINGS OF J WILKES BOOTH

outfit more unsuspicious a chicken coop was fastened on behind and in this were some old hens and a rooster; with straw bedding, feed, and water bowls. The start was made on this perilous trip at 6 a. m., April 22, so as to be at the appointed place on the Rhappahanock on schedule time. Ruddy and Herrold walking behind at such precautious distance as not to arouse suspicion should any man-hunter appear. Booth had in his inside pocket a memorandum book in which was a photo and his diary. There was also a photo of his sister, a few personal letters, and a check on Bank of Ontario which had been made payable to Ruddy. After crossing the Rhappahanock, Lewis remarked with excitement that soldiers were coming. Booth overhearing decided that it was federal soldiers, and as he was being hurriedly dragged out by the heels he had all kinds ef spooky visions; but the troops proved to be Jett, Bain- bridge, and Rutledge there on the dot. Booth discovered at once that on being dragged from his bed of straw his memorandum book and other pocket contents had fallen out; hence he requested Ruddy to recross the river and hunt the old darkey before too late and recover his lost treasures. After receiving the check which it seems had not been lost out. Ruddy got on the batteau boat; and as they verc t^^o dangerously e\pnped to wait, the three, Bainbridge, Rutledge, and Booth made a hurry drive for the Garrett home about three and a half miles up and off from the Potomac road, while it was arransfed that Jett, Herrold, and Ruddy should go from there to Bowling Green to purchase a shoe for Booth's game foot, and a few other necessary items, and make further arrangements for the safe delivery within the Confederate lines and that they — Ruddy, Jett, and Herrold should be able to join them at the Garrett home next evening. W^ith this understanding Lieutenants Bainbridge and Rutledge placed Booth on the Jett horse and the trio were soon safe in the Garrett home. Booth being left with a heavy wooden cane, having "dis- carded the crutch," wliile Bainbridge and Rutledge were to keep watch from a hill some distance away for any threat- ened danger. .About 2 p. m. of April 23 while Booth was enjoying a loll on the lawn of the front yard, Bain- bridge and Rutledge noticed some Yankees across the Rhappahanock and immediately the guards darted into the thicket. Arriving at the Garrett home they notified Booth to take to tall timber at once without so much as a fare- well to his hosts. Bainbridge and Rutledge were evidently familiar with the topography and other physical conditions of that section and readily instructed Booth just where to land, the winds and elbows and other devious contours, and there he should listen for a signal from them and they

WANDl'.RINGS OF J WILKES HOOTH 27

would join iiiin as soon as safe, whicli was about i p. m. Bainbridge and Rutledge were on the scene with an extra horse. They rode westerly until about twelve o'clock that night, when they rested in the wocds. Giving directions as to the further route Bainbridge and Rutledge at last sepa- rated from Booth 25 miles west of Garrett's or Port Royal and Conway. Booth rode west all that day, then south- west until 10 a. m. second day from the Garrett home via a dim road. He stopped at a small farm house on a blind trail where tliree elderly women took him in, a "wounded confederate soldier" for breakfast — self and horse. Here Booth rested a few hours, riding the remainder of the day and until near 12 at night when he camped in a clump of small i)uslies on a small creek bottom some distance from the road for the rest of the night. At an early hour next morning he took breakfast at the home of an old gentle- man and wife; then hurried in a southwest direction for some days, where Confederate soldiers were in strong evi- dence. Down through West Virginia, crossing the Big Sandy at Warfield's in eastern Kentucky, thence two days southwest covering about sixty miles where he found shelter with a young widow named Stapleton, with a small boy. As a wounded Confederate he was safe here, remaining a week. Thence south to the Mississippi River where he found a safe crossing, and a trifle south of the mouth of the Arkansas river. After parting with Bainbridge and Rutledge the first night out from the Garrett home Booth was accompanied much of the way by Dr. D. B. O'Brannon. Reaching the Arkansas he followed it southerly on the east bank until near Fort Gibson where he crossed and associated first among the Cherokees who treated him ho.s- pitably, but they were too highly educated and civilized for safety, hence he attached himself to a band of Apaches whose women, he says, were rather intelligent and many of them really good looking; but the men were not so intelli- gent and didn't like the idea of work; especially the chief who was excpptiimally lazy, but equally kind as was every member of the tribe.

Crossing the Plains as "Jesse Smith In the course of a year he tired of that nomadic career and longed again for civilization, to find compani.onship consrenial; hence bidding his Indian friends a last han(7- shake started across the country' passing through probably what are Pottawatomie, Cleveland and Canadian counties, then bearing north and crossing into Kansas not far from Kiowa; thence westerly hugging the streams until he reached Nebraska City where I^evi Thrailkill was fitting out a crew to transport supplies for troops at Salt Lake, via horse teams. Under the name of Jesse Smith, Booth engaged.

28 WANDERINGS OF J. WILKES BOOTH

Thrailkill had a contract with the government to supply provisions for the troops at Salt Lake and readily gave the stranger a pair of lines. According to Mr. Thrailkill who resided near Enid at the time of the suicide, Smith seemed to know nothing whatever about handling horses, could neither harness nor unharness them, but soon learned to handle the lines fairly well. He was such a genial fellow, however, that the other teamsters gladly relieved him of the task of harnessing and unharnessing, as weJI as from camp duties. He was the life and joy of the camp, always with a word of clieer, a recitation of some poem or quot- ing great dramatists, especially Shakespeare which was done in tragedy, pathos or emotion as the case might warrant. In fact, he could laugh with those who laugh, shed artificial tears and shape his face to any occasion. When near Salt Lake, Smith left the train without so much as bidding good-bye or drawing his pay. From here it was learned that he made direct for San Francisco where after visiting his mother and brother he made his way into Old Mexico, the only tarry so far as known being at Fresno. In Mexico he attached himself to Maximillian's forces, but soon had a misunderstanding and was only saved from serious conse- quences through the intervention of Catholics, to which denom-nr^i'^n It" b^'mtrrd ^r-d "'nf^ a d^vu*- niember. For a while he roamed over the lands of the Aztecs in the guise of an itinerant priest.

Becomes A Country Merchant From Mexico, about 1871 or 1872, he made his way into Texas, stopping at Glenrose Mills at the foot of Bosque Mountain in Hood County, that being then the boundary of western civilization. Here he bought out a dealer in tobacco and carried a small supply of groceries and whiskey, the man from whom he purchased moving to Granberry, some thirty miles east. Meantime continued the business trusting it mostly to a Mexican porter, and occupying a rough log house, the rear end as a living room for he and the porter, and the front as a "store". It seems that Booth either failed to notify authorities of the change or secure license required of those dealing in tobacco and whiskey. The result was the party from whom he purchased was indicted by the government grand jury at Tyler for doing business without the required license. The indicted man consulted a j'oung attorney who had drifted in from Tenn- essee to try his fortune in the land of cowboys and cactus. Mr. Bates then called in Booth, who sailed under the name of John St. Helen, and with whom he was slightly at that time acquainted. He requested of Booth that he go to Tyler and thus relieve the innocent from trouble for which he, B»oth, was wholly responsible. He asked time to con-

WANDERINGS OF J WILKES BOOTH 2P

sider, which was granted. In due time he called on the attorney and told him that there were reasons why he did not dare risk going to Tyler; that in fact he was sailing under an assumed name, and there being so many detec- tives and government spies, and others always hanging around the Tyler court, the risk would be too great. He would, however, do whatever he could, and suggested that the attorney take his client to Tyler and there arrange for a plea of guilty, which would undoubtedly draw but a slight fine; that he. Booth, would furnish the funds. The proposition was accepted and Booth whipped out a leather wallet containing an amount of shinplaster and the attor- ney and his client lit out overland. Arriving at Tyler where Judge Brown was the U. S. District Judge and Jack Evans District Attorney the matter of plea and fine was arranged and the prisoner discharged. The young attornej' and his client returned to Cranberry and handed Booth the wallet and contents, less the expense and fine. Booth seemed highly delighted at the happy result; but manifested much concern about his admission of an assumed name. Hence he called on the attorney and requested secrecy, at the same time handing him a handsome roll, saying "Now that you are my attorney with my interest in keeping I shall feel from now on safe from exposure, you being the only mortal living possessed of the secret. After a time Booth moved to Cranberry bringing the porter along, and he and the voung Tennesseean became the fastest of friends.

At the close of the war, Lieut. M. B. Ruggles became associated with the New York firm of Constable & Co., which his brother Edward S. retired to a farm in Kings county, Va. The father. Gen. Dan Ruggles, also retired to his Virginia farm. Jett settled in Carlin county, Va. but subsequently moved to Baltimore M'here he married the daughter of a prominent physician, and took to the road as a commercial traveler. But the three in Booth's escape finally associated themselves under the firm name of Jett, Bainbridge and Ruggles. Lieut. Bainbridge settled in New York associated in the firm of Jett, Bainbridsre and Ruggles. In reply to letters written as late as 1889 each of these gentlemen unhesitatingly give the part they took i-n the escape of Booth, and in each case the statement of Booth while in Texas is fully corroborated. "While crossing the Rhappahanock," says Lieut. Ruggles, "Booth wore a black slouch hat pulled down well over his forehead," etc. That after landing Booth safely in the Garrett home, they next day saw two Federals on horseback in hot pursuit; that they, Ruggles and Bainbridge, were signaled for a parley, but instead made a rapid dash into the thick underbrush

30

WANDERINGS OF .1 WILKES BOOTH

and reached the Garrett home in time to warn Bootli who immediately struck out for the tall timber and interming- ling jungles, and then they made their way to safety; that when warning Booth he was given a signal by which he would know it was they, and that they would join him as soon as safety would warrant; that they did go to the hiding place of Booth, and together they made a safe get- away, very much as related by Booth in his Texas state- ment.

In a letter from the Judge Advocate's office in Wash- ington City under date of January 23, 1898, Judge G. Norman Lieber and his secretary G. D. Micklejohn join in a reply to one asking if it would interest the Department to know that John Wilkes Booth was at that day still alive; that while the Department had no positive or direct proof that the man killed at the Garrett home was Booth, they had circumstantial evidence, and any further evidence as proofs would not interest the Department.

Booth, or the mj^sterious strange'-, was traced to Lead- ville in the late fall of 1878. Next to Fresno, California, in 1884; from whence probably he wended back to his old haunts at Fort Worth, as per scene in Pickwick bar else- where.

SIDE-LIGHTS ON BOOTH IN OKLAHOMA

The story now leads into Oklahoma briefly as told in the Historia account, which is repeated with such notes and remembered incidents of the visit to Waukomis as havp lince been discovered or that can be called to mind.. (Reproduced from Historia, October, 1919.)

Although half a century has passed since the tragedy in which J. Wilkes Booth was the active principal, there has been no lessening in reverence for the name of Lincoln, nor much in the bitterness toward the man who wrought his death. This is not confined to those still living who have personal memor- ories of that day, but the sspirit of the parent has been transmitted to the son with added energj' to such an ex- tent that any reference to J. W^ilkes Booth requires a touch of delicacy lest censure if not reprimand follow.

Indeed it means a "path of coals" for any one who dares intimate that Booth was not the man killed at

WANDERINGS OF J WILKES BOOTH 31

the Garrett home in \'irginia in 1865; or that he escaped and during his nomadic meanderings made Oklahoma a favorite sojourning place until the "ending of the trial" at Enid, in January, 1903, via the suicide route. And yet there is vastly more evidence in favor of that contention than was ever produced that it was Booth who was killed at the Garrett home, instead of some one else. However, it is not the purpose here to go into details of the tragedy further than to throw a little calcium across the tortuous path of him, whom for simplicity sake is here designated as Booth, although that path was under an alias sky, especially that of David E. George; and that path will here be confined as near as practicable to Oklahoma, with only such other references as may seem tending to es- tablish identity of George and Booth as one and the same. As a prelude, reference is made to a letter now among the manuscripts of the Oklahoma Historical Society and which will follow: but before introducing the letter, the reader will be carried back to 1897, when it will be re- membered by old-timers, especially of Oklahoma City, occurred the death of General George H. Thomas, whose remains were shipped by his nephew to the old home at Portland, Maine. General Thomas came to Oklahoma City from Texas. He at once inocculated himself with the spirit of the town's active citizenship, and became instru- mental in building the city water works, holding 52 shares, or a majority stock, which he transferred to the city in 1892. His son George H., Jr., soon after left the country and witli his wife wandered over foreign lands, first to Stockholm, Sweden, from whence he wrote friends here enclosing a photo of himself and wife on a log angling for fish from one of the clear streams of northland. The next letter (with photo enclosure) hailed from Russia Later he took up a residence in "gay Paree," France, from whence he wrote; this being soon after war had been declared between Germany and France. George suggested a scheme for bringing the Germans at once to their knees— simply sending a few Americans over and place them on the trenches, and then dare Germany to fire. French women, he declared, had been experimented with in that role, but the Germans cruelly ignored petticoats" and fired througii, over, beyond, everywhere into the trenches.

The same year in which General Thomas died in this city. General Edward L. Thomas, who did service during the Rebellion on the C. S. A. side, died at McAlester where he had served a number of years as Indian agent for the Sac and Fox consolidated tribe. Seeing an account of the death of the two Thomases, Mrs. Louisa A. Walton wrote a letter from Beverly, N. J., to the commander of the

32 WANDERINGS OF ,1 WIl.KES BOOTH

U. C. V. at Oklalinina Cily making inquiry concerning a certain General Thomas for whom she was searching. On receiving such information as was available at this end of the line concerning the Oklahoma Thomases, she wrote again to tiie Commander of the Oklahoma division U. C. v., at that time Captain John O. Casler, now landscape gardener at the Confederate home near Ardmore. This letter was under Beverly date of April 13, 1898.

"General Edward L. Thomas is not the man I mean. The General Thomas of whom I desire information died either in the summer of 95 or 96. I tried to find a little record sketch of his war record in Philadelphia! because I saw it in the 'Philadelphia Evening Telegraph.' I put the paper away carefully, but it was accidentally destroyed by one of my servants before I clipped the piece out. They do not remember it at the "Telegraph office,' and have searched files of papers for it without success; but as several editions are published daily and one only filed I suppose it was in the edition they destroyed. They tell me that Henry 'George' Thomas was a Confederate General. 'George' Henry a Union General, and that the one in Oklahoma must be the one. He is not, for he, (the one I mean), died earlier than '97. I met him in Philadelphia in 1863. He fainted on the pavement in front of my Aunt's house one summer morning; her servants carried him into the house; and we used the proper restoratives and sent him in the carriage to the depot (Baltimore) when he was able to continue his journey. He was in company with a younger man, who I never saw again until I saw his face in papers as' the murderer of 'Lincoln' (John Wilkes Booth). Their faces are indelibly stamped on my memory; also the conversa- tion. Though we urged them to tell us their names, they refused, though they assured us they were very grateful. I think they feared we would betray them because we were Union women. No true woman would be guilty of such an act, for suffering always appeals to her heart, sometimes against her better judgment. My Aunt daily left her luxurious home to nurse the sick and wounded soldiers at 15th, J. Filbert St. Hospital (now Broad St. Station of Pennsylvania Railroad). There were a dozen Confederates there at that time, and they were just as carefully cared for as the Union soldiers. She lost her life from too great devotion to the work. 'Booth' told us that his friend had been ill, and in his anxiety to reach home had over-estimated his strength. Taking my Aunt's hand in his and looking her full in the face, he said, '"Would you befriend us if you knew us to be enemies?' Her reply wag, 'If thine enemy hunger, feed him; if he

i

■* if"-.,

BRVANTOWN. The Place Gen. Oana Reach^^d on the Mornlne and Remained During the Day of April I5th, 1865. While Booth Was Resting That Same Day at the Home ot Or Mudd. Only Three and a Half Miles Away

"' _ ''Wf;!!l?'^i;;';'"'*'"''^;Tv'y'^i|j^^^

HOME OP DR JfVDD, Where Booth and Hero'.J 3u/ad All NlfhV

Surrattsville Tavern.

?¥'

it^'-^^^=h

""^

K H

Home of Capt. Sam Cox

WANDERINGS OF J WILKES BOOTH 33

thirst, give him drink.' 'Yen are a noble woman, and have ministered to a man whose life can illy be spared; may God bless you for your kindness' was 'Booth's' reply. Aunt entered into life eternal December 31, 1864, and never knew the names of these men, or the tragic death of 'Booth'. Nor did I, until t.incdn's death know who Booth was. Nor until over thirty years did I know the name of the sick man, until I read his death notice in 1896 or 7. I was a very ycung girl at the time of this meeting and I am the only one living of the quartette. I shall never forget these two hours, nor the shock I re- ceived at seeing Booth's face as the face of an assassin. I had woven a romance arrund him. and expected to see his beautiful brow crowned with laurels. Alas for my dream. Both men were in citizen dress. General Thomas was a medium sized man (short compared with my father ard brothcrss who are all 6 foot and over), dark mustache, closrly cropped hair, swarthy complexion: had a white silk handkerchief knoltrd around h's neck. The piece I refer to spoke of his illness in 1863 in Philadelphia, from a wcu'^d rn the back of his neck; (that accounting for the handkerchief), that when rn his way to join his command he was recognized in Baltimore as nn escaped prisoner of war; and was taken to Fortress Monroe." So he must have been captured the dav after we saw him. I can not remember the initials of his name, and he must have been in the thirties when I saw him; for he was much older than Booth. Since reading that sketch I remember that Booth's sister, Mrs. Clark, lived one three squares from my Aunt, and I suppose she was caring for him in his illness. I think this General Thomas must have belonged to a Virginia family. Was there not more than one General Thomas in Confederate Service?"

Neither of the Oklahoma Thomases proved to be the one wanted, and she was advised to write to certain parties at Richmond, Va., which she did, locating the Thomas she was after, but who had died some time previous.

It seems that J. Wilkes Booth was then associated with General Bell in efforts to free Confederate prisoners, for which General Bell was subsequently hung by the Federal government. One of Booth's beneficiaries was the General Thomas for whom Mrs. Walton was searching. He was a Confederate and had been taken prisoner, and confined in Fort Delaware, from whence by the friendly and sym- pathetic aid of Booth he escaped. The General Edward I>. Thomas referred to was a Brigadier in command of a Georgia brigade, and was an uncle of Heck Thomas, the famous member of the "big three'' marshals who gained ^ch fame in out-law hunting in Oklahoma, and who

34 WANDERINGS OF J WILKES BOOTH

with Honorable W. H. Tilghman and Chris Madscn cut central figures in Mr. Tilgh-nan's movie — "Last of the Oklahoma Outlaws." Heck Thnmas served as cornier for his uncle the last three years of Ihe Rebellion, beinp only 14. years old when he entered the service. Died at Lawton, in 1916.

Verily this Walton inquiry seems in some respects rather coincidental, inviting to the field of speculation. Why comes from the far east westward half way across the continent to Oklahoma this weird Booth incident at this particular time when he was in wanderings on the border fringes of th's very section? And then the name of Henry "George" Thomas, the "George" being quoted — the name under which Booth went at th^ time rf com- mitting suicide at Enid five years later. What force was behind it all? Cculd it have b^en the Aunt referred to by Mrs. Walton? and if so, might she not have had other Booth maUeis under veil which the world will never know? There are other transpirirgs wljicli seem coinci- dental that might lead to the field of speculation: Boston Corbett, who killed s^me ere. alleged to be Booth, at the Garrett farm in 1865, drifted west into Kansas at thi.. particular seasrn, where he subser-uenlly b'came sergeant of thp Kansas Senate; thence to Texas wliere Booth spent the '70's, and asa'in in later days, and wh^re he. Corbett, went mad and died. It mav be called to mind th^t Boston Corbett shied clear as pcssible rf the Booth episrde matter and that any inadvertant reference to h's part in the Garrett home tragedy crused a discernable quivering, a slight voice-tremor and biting of the lips. So far as" the Historia min knows, Boston Corbett never mentioned the name of Booth, his only reference being, and that only when the question was pressed: "We — killed a man." in- variably using the "we." Another thing may not be altogether out of the line of coincidentals: That at the very date of the Walton letter — that is, the same year — 1897, General D. D. Dana emerged from his garden at the old Maine home for the first time to give to the -world through the Boston press his account of the tracing of Booth so minutely throughout his wanderings, from crossing the Potomac bridge to Bryantown, to Dr. Mudd's, the Cox home, the Patuxent river, the Potomac; the neigh- ing of his horses and their slaughter to keep them silent; what Bnrth said, how he now and then turned in his saddle — his very thoughts, uttered and unuttered, during these hide-and-seek dodglngs until the final "ending of the trail" at the Garrett home and burial of the remains "under a slab in the navy yard near the jail," according to General Dana, and at various other places at the same

WANDERINGS OF J. WILKES BOOTH 35

time, as stated by various other eminents. Indeed what' a line of inconsistencies, incoherencies, discrepancies aind coincidentals conspire to set the mind wondering, and the imagination wandering tlirough vauge fields of speculation f Even the writer is not wholly immune from the arrows of the speculative archer, although he was in conscious existence at the time of the trngedy which left its in- delible impression. In fact it f('l to his lot to assist in ^ receiving telegraphic reports of this tr;:gedy from tli h ur of firing the fatal shot to the closing of last ceiei i !-'.ies over the remains of the d: :id presiden.. During th '80s the writer filed this report with the Kansas Hist^'rlcai Society, which be was partially instrumental in establish- ing during a meeting of the Kansas editors at Manhattan, April 9, 1879. In taking this report from the wires the old Morris system was used — indentures on a paper ribbon which automatically unwound from a reel much like those used today only in movies where the young stock gambler unwinds and reads the market's up and down to see wiietlier he wins and gets the girl, or goes broke and loses her. The report was transcribed on long sheets of yellow "onion peel" paper, and made quite a voluminous roll. As the writer had never been in the East and Booth had never be< n in the West before the great national tragedy,- there had been no physical meeting with him. Yet por- traits of the tragedian as given in the press and in maga- zincii immediately following the assassination and subse- (juent. were strongly engraved on memory's scroll. If the- affirmative is permi.'^sible in.'^tead of guess, the first meet- ing was at Topcka, Kansas, some time in the middle '80s. Passing tlie Crawford restaurant, then tlip leading provin- der shop in the city, a gentleman was noticed occupying a chair just outside and near the open door, leaned back in a safe angle against the wall. The stranger was in a rather nonchalant mood, gently twirling a small cane between the thumb and forefinger of one hand and as gently twisting at the tips of his raven black imperial mustache with the other. The writer dropped into a chair nearby, whereat . the stranger released his chair from the wall and brought it to a square position. This stranger was in a neat-fitting- suit of black, coat of Prince Albert pattern, and the hat of the Stetson order, though with a rim somewhat broader than the usual. Hir hair was jet black, of silky texture, and inclined to curl or wave at the bottom. On squaring the chair, the stranger cast a hasty glance at his visitor, then cast his eyes a trifle down, with a meditative expres- sicn, at tlie sau'C time bringing tlie hand in which he held the cane to his mustache as he gave the tips anothi^r grntle twist. Then he again leaned back against the wall.

96 WANDERINGS OF J WILKES BOOTH

and looking into the upper blank recited a few lines in a truly dramatic vein, though rather low. Cutting short as if to recover from inadvertancc, he once more brought his chair to a square position. The writer was impressed at the strangeness of the stranger, at his dramatic bear- ing and ventured a trifle familiarity. Slapping the stranger on one knee, who at first gave a quick stare between re- sentment and surprise, but in an instant assumed an at- tentive pose. It flashed upon the mind of the writer that his new and ephemeral companion was either a theatrical man or a dramatic reader. Acting upon this he arose and gave an inviting glance down at the stranger, who als« arose. As a test to surmise, the writer remarked: "I be- lieve I will take a walk over to the new theatre." (But recently erected, a block or so west of the Crawford.) "The new the-a-tre." the stranger remarked, as he slightly inclined his head and peered up from beneath black silken brows. Raising his countenance and with a side glance; "then you have two the-a-tres, (not exactly questioning, nor exactly in surprise, but in seeming effort to disguise a knowledge of the fact.) With this he stepped to the writer's side, slightly resting one foot as he placed a hand on one slioulder, more friendly than familiar. "I presume we shall meet again — possibly." (The latter word in a tone of question half aside.) "I hope so," was the reply. "I like to meet people, and never meet anyone with- out a hope of meeting again. Excuse proverbial Yankee curiosity in asking j'our name, and I may sav, your line." "Well," he returned, slightly turning as he twirled the cane and twisted at his mustache a moment, "I have pot been bold enough to ask your name nor your profession. "Campbell,' was the immediate interpose: "and yours?" "Let me see," with a trifle meditative pause, then looking his questioner straight in the eye, "how does Thomas, or Johnson strike you, with a traveling suit, for instance?" With this, the stranger lightly pressed the writer's shoul- der, and in a manner that bordered on seeming regret at parting, turned away and leisurely passed inside the res- taurant twirling his cane. While there was so much peculiar about the incident, the exact date cannot now be recalled. A few years after, while on a Rock Island train somewhere between Pond Creek and Kingfisher, a gentleman entered from another car and seated himself by the writer. There was something in the appearance of the newcomer whidi at once impressed "Where have I seen that face before," was the first unuttered flash. There was the black curving eyebrows, the black imperial mustache, the black flowing hair, all of which called back the incident at Topeka; but this man was in gray clothes

WANDERINGS OF J WILKES BOOTH 37

of business cut, and a Scottish plaid cap. At Enid one of the occupants of the seat just in front got off, while an- other man entered and took the seat, placing a grip on his lap, on whidj was visibly lettered "C. Carlton." He also carried a bundle of show programs in which the new seat-mate seemed .specially interested. Tapping the young man lijrhtly rn Ihe shoulder, a program was handed over before he had time to speak. This he held up in front of him with a sort of critical quiz. "Do you belong to the profesh?" was asked by the young man, at which the seat- mate peered over the edge of the program with a staring frown. "The pro-FESH !" as if it was the term that l^iqued. "No!" And the seat-mate hid his ire behind the spread program a moment. Then as if to amend for in- advertent breech, he asked: "Where do you perform?'' The last word after a pause ,as if trying to coin some word commensurate with "profesh." "O-o— let me see," said the young man, scratching below and behind the right ear. "We show all over — everywhere," with an air of pomp. "•I mean your next stand." "Oh," and the young man referred to his memorandum. "At the El Reno theatre." "So! And they have a the-a-tre at that village," with a^ humorous twinkle. .At this juncture Kingfisher statioih was called and the writer got off the train, reflecting on the peculiar long "a" in theatre that called up the Topeka- incident. In fact this long "a'' like an unbidden tune, kept up its intrusion for some time.

Referring to this incident on the train, the writer calls to mind that in 1893 Charles Carlton, with blonde hair, etc., put on "Nevada the Gold King" at the Kingfisher hall with a local cast, Miss Henrietta Parker (now Com- den) in the leading lady role. Mr. Camden, J. S. Ross, Dr. Spangler, Miss Mize, Mina Admire, being among others, of the cast, the writer as "Nevada."

The third meeting with the mysterious stranger — and right here it may be well to state that at neither of these meetings did the writer recognize the part.v referred to as Booth, nor does he now know that it was him. Hence in designating the party as Booth is wholly in the presump- tive. It was at the Waukomis Hornet office during the afternoon of January fi, 1903, when he stopped immediately in front of the door, planting one foot on the entrance silT where he paused seemingly to be recognized before enter- ing. The stranger had black hair, brows and mustache and was dressed in a black suit, the coat being Prince Albert, tlie hat of the Stetson pattern, the entire showing the ravages of wear, but dean. There was the little cane between thumb and finger going through involuntary twirl- ings. There was a noticeable furrowing in the features.

38 WANDERINGS OF .1 WITKES BOOTH

and beneath the veneerinp black a slijrht trace of gray, ▼ifiible, however, only on closest observation, and recallable only through subsequent events. "Well, come in and look out," said the writer as he noticed the stranger, who stepped inside. The wear of years were such that the writer did not at first identify the newcomer with any one whom he had ever met before; although there were out- lincis on memory's wall that read a previous meeting some- where at some time, but where? There was a classical bearing, a manly pose of gentility that stamped him as no common tramp, and this was decidedly emphasized with his first utterance. Tipping his liat slightly, working the little cane and looking- straight face-to-face with the writer, and in a pleasing voice of culture, inquired: "Have I the pleasure of addressing Mr. Campbell?" reach- ing his hand as the cane became idle. "That's my name," returned the writer as he reciprocated the gentle grasp of hands. The newcomer referred hurriedlv to a memoran- dum, then: "W. P. Campbell?" "W. P.— that is the name I go by, at least." At this the stranger seated on a high stool which stood near the door, and resting one foot on the floor, gave the little cane a succession of twirls and his mustache as many twists, then looking the writer square in the eye, and with seriously inquisitive tone: "Did you ever know any one to go by a name not really his own.'' "I may have known many, without knowing it," was the reply. The stranger dismounted from the stool and walked slowly to and fro in a meditative way for a moment, with the now familiar cane and mustache feature. "If not too busy," again taking position on the stool, half sitting, with one foot on the floor. "Always busy, never busy," replied the writer, taking a seat near the stool with his feet cocked on the desk: "Fire away." Again, quite deliber- ately climbing from the stool the stranger drew near, wit"h such peculiar expres.einn on his countenance that the writer involuntarily arose and squared himself face to face with }iis questioner. The stranger stepped back a very brief pace as if to give his gestures play. Then closely eyeing as if to rivet attention, and with index finger as close as rourtesy wnrrnnted, with dramatic pantomine: "Before leaving Fl Reno — I came from there — I was directed by Mr. Hensley to call on you, the same by Mr. Eyler (prob- ably Ehler) ns T came through Hennessey." "Very kind in my friends," the writer interposed, "but what's the drive ?" "Exactly," as the stranger readjusted him- self ssquare face to face, preceding with slow yet deci- sive index-finger gestures and dramatic head accompani- ments. "It is a story, the — story — of my life!'' with strong emphasis on the last three words. "A story (pause) that

WANDERINGS OF J WILKES BOOTH 39

will startle — that will make the very world set up and take notice." For a moment there was a mutual eyeing, he seemingly to note the impression he had made; on the writer's part more in a puzzle as to what it all meant- After a moment's suspense, the stranger began a to-and-fro meditative pace with cane and mustache accompaniment. "My friend," said the writer, "from what I have seen of

you " The stranger turned abruptly, and in a tone of

surprise suppressed inquiry: "You have seen me before?" "I surely have." The stranger took a half sitting posture on the stool closely eyeing the writer and with seeming unconsciousness of it, slowly twisting at his mustache. "But just when and under what circumstances — didn't I meet you in Topeka once?" continued the writer, meeting the starry gaze of the stranger, who, with a downward glance: "Possibly," then resuming his recent attitude, "I have — I think I have been there."' The stranger had descended from his perch on the stool, and began a medi- tative to-and-fro as he replied without looking up: "I — HAVE been ther^." "As I said," continued the writer, as the stranger seated on one corner of the desk, one foot resting on the floor as he side-faced to the writer. "If you will permit me," once more continued the writer, "from what I have seen of you, and I need not go back of this meeting, right here, and from yrnr manp^r, yrur bearing and language — everything, I should judge you capable of writing your own story." "Possibly — probably — that is so," returned the stranger as he stepped from the desk and leaned back with both hands resting on the stool behind him. "But it wouldn't be me," quickly shift- ing the drift and again assuming the former position on the desk corner. "How would it seem to you to be your- self, and yet not you? No matter what you write, or say, or do, whatever your achievements, how high your ambi- tion may reach — it is not you " Getting from the

desk, and facing the writer, with strong index-finger, "NOT YOU!" Turning with the last words and slowly pacing, in a fairly pathetic undertone, semi-solus: "Not me." In a sort of rambling way that comported with his mind, evidently, the stranger alternated with the stool position, and uneasily to-and-froing, cane and mustache fingering, and talking in a fragmentary way as bits of his story were brought out, mixed with inquiries seemingly to test the writer's familiarity with Washington life, and the Potomac country.

Classing the stranger as more than an ordinary man — dramatic reader past the meridian of use; or a one-time knight of the footlights, now too tedious to be entertaining, yet too noble for slight, the writer made casual notes

40 WANDERINGS OF J WII KES BOOTH

merely cut of respect, being frequently admonished with: "Now, just a minute, I'm not quite ready for that." Finally I asked the stranger's name. With an intimation that more about him would be pleasing. "I advertise as a painter." ".Scenic?" "No — well, I guess I could paint a

scene — with, a brush, but " and he started as if to

leave. "There's a joh in this town, if you care for one.

A brand new building " Without waiting for further

details, th? stranger replied, "Thanks, my friend; however, I wi'l not rppnse lonkinnr over your new structure." We started. When about midway of the street, Scott's opera hcjise was pointed out, with the remark: "You see, this little town is on the may — even has a theatre of her own. "Rather ssnall place for a the-a-tre." Here the stress on the "a" was as had been the case on two other occasions.

"The prrpiietor wants a set of scenery, and " "Many —

ruiiierous tlianks," came as an eniphatic interpose, as he placed rne hand on tlie writer's sh ulder — the same thrill- ing touch as that in the Trpeka incident. "I would not Ih'nk f r a nni'irnt rf such n jrh; the the-a-tre has all the reverse rf charms for me." To avoid further embar- la.ssing th? stranger, the writer remarked that the weather vas quite rn.)!\yable f )r January. "Enjoyable no doubt to Ihrsc capable of cnjrymcnt," returned the stranger. Just thfn on fncing cast the evening sun cast long shadows in front. "Tlie davs are growing ^hoitcr," said the writer as h" rlancrd at tlif' shadows. "Yes, and as the days grow th'irter, the shadows lengthen." said the stranger as he swiped al^ng the shadows with his cane. "Did you ever chase a shadow?" casually enquired the writer. After -a moment's pause in seeming reflection the stranger replied as a slight sigh escaped: "They have chased me — are ever chnsing me." Slf^w in semi-solus: "Shadows of the past." Then with a sudden shift as if to recover: "Shadows of the past wouldn't be a bad title for — say — a story, eh?" To vhich the writer remarked in half query: "Why not 'Lights and Shadows?'" The sti anger prodded with his cane a T^mment, then in drawn words and serious tone: "Suppose there were no lisrhts?" To which: "With^^ut lichts th^re 'would be no shadows — haven't you ever had lip'li'^s flit mthwart your path?" The stranger gave a nervous twirl of the cane and a twist at his mustache: "Verv seldom and far between, one — to say how long ago would be to give away my age. The other — no matter. I>ike tho one of boyhood days, it was fairly dazzling, but only a flicker, a transitory beam that lured a moment with promis"; then — merged with the shadows."

On returning to the office before entering, the straneer made as if to leave, but was persuaded not to be in a rush.

WANDERINGS OF J WILKES BOOTH 41

"Oh, no," he casually returned, he assuming a pose against the stool while the writer resumed a seat at the desk and began indifferently fumbling at a bunch of pencilings. Just then as the writer lifted his hand a sudden whiff of wind blew a few sheets of manuscript in pencil from the desk to the floor. The stranger was quick to arrest the flying pages, and handing them over remarked: "Brain, I presume, of — black lead." • Receiving the pages with due thanks: "No — simply .jottings of little thoughts as they come up to file away," handing the stranger a few pages which he read to himself with growing interest as he pantomimed. "You, too, must have bowed at the shrine where beauty awakens love. I think I discover elements of histrionic flights. Were you ever* on the stage?" He was informed to the contrary except in an amateur way. Just then the writer arose and began rubbing and shaking his right leg to stimulate ciiculation. "Rheumatic?" inquired the stranger. "No — merely an uneas>' feeling caused by a rupture sustained during the rebellion." "Ah, I see." Then "I notice it is the right limb," as he advanced his left foot and lifted the pants leg an inch or so as if to indicate that he, too, wore a scar.

As if quoting: "Ah, what have we here?" Holding the penclings up before him: "Never ask for a kiss, and you'll never be refused one." Glancing at the writer: "And never get one." To which the writer replied: "That will be up to you." After a moment in seeming attempt to parry words: "But as purchased soueeze of the hand never reaches beyond the wrist, so purchased kisses die on the lips." The writer taking a side-glance at the stranger: "Who said anything about purchasing? Just take it. Stol- en kisses are sweetest, any way." Another moment in a parry study: "But it is only the mutual kiss of love that binds heart to heart." Then casually giving his mustache a twist and his cane a twirl as he took a pace or two. "However, you have taught me a lesson. But, I fear me, my friend, the lesson comes too late." Half in solus: "If I had only thought of that back there — not so very long ago." Long breath as he twirls cane. "What might have been." Once more he scanned the pencilings until his eyes restfd on something which seemingly interested him, if not giving worry. After a careful scanning: "Ev^ery Caesar has his Brutus." Turning to the writer and somewhat nervously tapping the pencilings with fore-finger: "Why — why' did you write that?" knitting his brows. Then as if to cover any lapse: "But not every Caesar hath his Anthony to bury him and — to praise him with covet cen- sure." At this point the stranger seems to have first noticed a vased calla recently presented by a friend: "You

42 WANDERINGS OF J. WILKES BOOTH

seem to be somewhat esthetic as well as — er — romantic. With your permission," as he takes the vase from the top of the desk and gently strokes the bloom: "Ah," holding up a tribute to the calla written on a card he first reads a few lines, with pantomimes, then seemingly involuntarily reads audibly:

"O, Calla — Love's emblematic flower,

Fair blush on white, a brief alluring dower.

And yet while beauty lingers on thy bloom.

How sweet, how delicious thy perfume,

O, Calla! Transient as thy folds so fair,

Is love that lures, then seals us in despair!

A moment holding in thy bewitching spell,

Like love that halts ,then bids abrupt farewell.

O, Calla, frail — how soon thy beauties fade;

And fall like hether-down from summer glade!

Thy charms though brief — a momentary lure.

And yet how .sweet the moments they endure!

Like love that halts, then bids abrupt farewell.

Still memory holds on lips thy chrismed kiss."

The writer never thought much of the tribute, but as rendered by this stranger it seemed great. There was em- phasis, in gesture and tone the most highly eloquent and dramatic of anything the writer was ever privileged to hear or observe. Possibly to some extent from the fact it touched that vain spot all possess to some degree.

On returning the pencilings the stranger stood a mo- ment as if to mark any impression his "eloquence" may have made, asked the time of day. On being cited to an office clock, Hoyt's "Hole in the Ground" was brought into requisition with a cute twinkle: "Mr. agent, is your clock right?" Again as if to note impressions. "I see you have changed garments under the spout — " said the writer, "and as usual, got soaked." With this he remarked that perhaps it was so late the story might be postponed and inquired if the writer would be in Enid soon. On being informed that he often went there: "Come Saturday and we can go more into details." "All right," replied the writer, scarcely expecting to do so. "You can locate me by inquiry at the Watrus Drug Store — I am not much on the street." At this, he took the writer warmly by both hands, and looking him straight in the eye in the manner that was a cross between affection, regret at part- ing, and a sounding of thoughts. "You need not walk," said the writer, reaching into his pockets to bring forth car fare. "No offense, I assure you, and I accept your kindly suggestion for the deed, but I have plenty of funds — enough, at least, and to pay you well for what I am sure you will undertake to do. There are so many things

WANDERINGS OF J WILKES BOOTH 43

money cannot buy," as he gave a warm grasp of hands; "such as that friendship I am more than persuaded I shall find in you." Still holding hands, but turning as if choiring back some bitter emotion — "Good-bye." Then facing the writer, and with a firm hand-grasp, in a tone of confidence: "You are a man; you have enjoyed the best in life, yet tasted of its bitterest dregs — no — not the bitter- est— 'Only perhaps that slight potion all men taste. A man — I may trust you with — but there has been no secret — as yet revealed. Remember Saturday; and once again- good — no; au revoir." After a warm graisp, he let go hands, and headed for the station.

Before closing the chapter one other incident is brought up. It was only a week or so since that Col. James DufiFey, who was a police official at El Reno, when George stopped there, but who is now employed at the state capitol, ex- hibited a photograph to the Historia scribe with the remark: "Gaze on that and tell me if you ever saw it before" — this viithout the least hint as to who it was. "I surely have," replied the writer as he glanced at the face," Col. DuflFy still holding the photo in his hand. "That is the man who called on me at Waukomis in January, 1903, and who a week later committed suicide under the name of David E. George— J. Wilkes Booth." "You are mis- taken," said Col. Duffy, assuming a super-positive atti- tude. "John Wilkes Booth was killed at the Garrett home in Virginia, April 25, 1866, by one Boston Corbitt. I am sure of this because David E. George, while in a 'spiritually' talkative mood told me so himself — in El Reno — only a short time l)efore committing suicide. George said he knew J. Wilkes Booth was dead, 'because,' said he in a dramatic way, 'the next day after he was killed, the body was taken down the river to a lone island twenty-seven miles from Washington and secretly buried there.'" David E. George might have added that '"I know- that John Wilkes Booth is dead, because the body was taken to Washington City and secretly buried in a room in front of the navy building near the old jail, and a piece of artillery drawn over the place to obliterate it. ' Further because the body was taken down tihe Potomac ten miles from Washington, and weighted with stones and sunk. Also, because the body was taken to a secluded spot be- tween the Garrett farm and the Potomac and placed in a pit and consumed by quick lime; because the body wa.s taken to Washington City and secretly buried in the yard of the old penitentiary, from whence it was subsequently exhumed and given to the Booth family and buried in Green Mount Cemetery, Baltimore, where a marble marks

44 WANDERINGS OF J. WILKES BOOTH

; the head of the mound (unnamed, however.) I know that John Wilkes Booth is dead because the doorkeeper at Ford's theatre, who was an intimatet of Booth's and who assisted in the Green Mount ceremonies, declared it wag NOT the body of J. Wilkes Booth. Ais still more in- vincible proof that J. Wilkes Booth was the man killed at the Garrett home the fa<;t may be cited that the j^overnment, so secure in its convictions decided not to submit the body for identification; nor was a single cent of the va.st reward ever paid. Further — the body was quick-limed, drowned, buried — variously at various places and curiously enough by different agencies at one and the same time; so let it go at that. He it dead, dead, dead! numerously dead." After quoting "George," Col. Duffy handed the photo over, with: "Now look at the back of the card." On the back was found inscribed the names, "J. Wilkes Booth," taken at a spiritual seance in New York, 1894, by the mother of the Du Fonts, famous the world over as powder manufacturers.

A friend of Historia states that durinj? a conversation only a few days ago, Mrs. Anstein of El Reno, at whose hotel Booth (under name of George) stopped for many months, dechired her belief that George and Booth were the same. She .«aid she was quite well acquainted with him, and recalls many things which now more than at the time, convince her. At one time, she says, when he was slightly under the influence of liquor, some one gravely offended him, at which the offender was dramatically in- vited to pass on or be passed on, which he reluctantly did, and passed on, muttering an implied or construed threat. "That man has no business fooling with me," said ^he irate Booth (or George), turning to Mrs. Anstein, side-gesturing toward the retreating offender. "He don't know who he is fooling with — I killed a thousand times better man than him — he mustn't fool with me." Then calm- ing. Booth said to Mrs. Anstein in a confidential tone: "Can you keep a secret?" At which Mrs. Anstein replied in a careless way, "Did you ever know a woman to keep a secret?" Booth bit at his under lip as he turned away. "I sincerely believe George, as we knew him. had at that moment in mind telling me his secret," said Mrs. Anstein. The fourth and last time the writer saw Booth was at Enid, at Pennyman's northeast corner of the public square. He was standing with his back to the inner wall, his head sligh-tly bent forward, and his voice once so resonant with

f charming melody, gave out no sound.. Gray was dusting through the brows, the mustache and long wavy hair, the

■ artificial dyes used in keeping them in raven hue gradu- ally fading away. The starry lustre of once captivating

WAXDERINGS OF J WILKES BOOTH 45

ryes was sealed under closed lids. The hands were white and sinewy, folded listless across the breast. The face was a trifle swollen, over it a faint pallor of wraith, and yet a delicate smile of ineffable sweetness as one in pleasant dreams. It was death. That voice which once so thrilled and charmed, gesturing with eloquence fairly sublime, and held captives in its miraculous power, whether in Taming the Shrew, or in soliloquies over the browless Yorick, ray kingdom for a horse, or over his Desdemonia smothered in a pillow of Jealous -rage. Never again; forever hushed. And as Undertaken Pennyman closed the hinged lid over the ashy face, the old thought came— "Verily the way of the transgresser is hard." One so young, so ripe in beau- teous treasure, the world in readiness to prone before his mild sweet will, backed by ancestral glory the future un- folding a promise of kindly worth and benefaction. But he loved his southland too well and not wisely. At this phychic time of dreadful consequence, "a bloom doomed in the budding," by one impetous rash act, ill-judged and bound in a spirit of revenge, or misconceived duty, matters not. Condemned a wanderer, to face an unforgiving world, shunning familiar haunts and loved people, under tht ban of remorse, in the shadow of dread and mortal fear. "Myself, and yet — another!" A pent-up life of hateful suspense, longing for some ear to listen to his story which he dares not lisp lest treachery lurk in the wake of false friendship; but the time of dissolution nears. On a couch of excruciable pain, in last mortal anguish, struggling with remorse, eternity in view, the gates ajar, as entering the dark arcanum where no mortal poinard may ever pierce — he dares. But the story, although there is still material for a large volume, is already too long, much more so than was intended. Besides, it seems needless to tamper further with public patience in recital of the confessions made in the cypress shades. The revelation to Mrs. (Rev.) Harper, to Mrs. Simmons, to Mrs. Bears, and others of his most intimate and trusted acquaintances. These with affidavits may be found in El Reno, Enid and outside publication of date of the final climax, in January, 1903. Those who followed the event will readily recall these things. Hence, let the gates close behind the departed soul — forever shut out from the mortal whirl; forever to wander in mystery land where spirits reft of dissoluble mould revel in cypress bowers in blissful harmony with sweet-tuned choristers, or tread to sounds discordant among spectral forms ever in the shadow of disconsolate gloom.

+6. \yAXDP:RIXGS OF .1 WII.KF'.S BOOTH

ENDING OF THE TRAIL

According to promise the writer visited Enid the follow- ing Saturday and made inquiry at the Watrus Drug Store :fOr Mr. George, but he had not shown up as yet, it being • then near time for the north-bound train. The writer, not deeming the matter of immediate importance told Mr. Watrus he would be back the next Saturday; but before that day came, George had passed beyond the pale of inter- A'iews. The sad sequel will be approached through refer- ence to the story of Booth's visit at Waukorais as published in Hlstoria of October issue, 1919, giving a brief account of the suicide of John Wilkes Booth under the assumed name of David E. George, at Enid, January 12, 1903. The purpose was not to go into details of the trag- edy of 1865 — merely a brief of Booth's itinerary in Okla- homa. But the edition was soon exhausted with so many requests for extra copies coming from every quarter of the known world that it was decided to reproduce the brief with such additions and preludes gathered from stray notes taken at the time of Booth's visit at Waukomis, which have since been found, and from refreshed memories of what took place during the visit. Also from the stray pages sent by an Enid friend who wrote that they were from a book published by one Finis L. Bates, of Memphis, Tennessee, soon after the suicide at Enid. It appears that nn rend'ng telegrams announcing the suicide and the mys- tery in which it was wrapped, Mr. Bates came to Enid to find out if it was an old Texas friend whom he had known at Glen Rose Mills and at Granberry, as John St. Helen during tlie .'seventies, and bringing with him a tintype of his friend tnken by a traveling pliotographer at Glen Rose Mills in 1878. On comparing the tintype with the em- balmed George there was no dnubt whatever that the cadavar was that of John St. Helen. Besides what is gathered from the stray notes and recalled from incid^ents of the booth visit at Waukomis, Historia takes more or less license with the stray leaves sent from Enid, especially portions in which the confession made by St. Helen to Mr. Bates at Granberry in 1878 when Booth, or St. Helen had given up to die. Death-bed confession to Mrs. Rev. Harper of El Reno in 1902, and letter from Gen. Dana, Gen. Lew Wallace, and various other persons throughout the country.

Among otlier papers found on George one was in his bosom requesting that Finis I>. Bates of Memphis, Tenn., be telegraphed to coiwe immediately and identifj' the body as that of John Wilkes Booth. (Letter lost). Arriving at Enid he met undertaker Pennyman, and on showing him a tintype of Booth taken at Glen Rose Mills in 1877 Mr. Pennyman was overwhelmed, fairly dumfounded. "We need

WANDERINGS OF J WILKES BOOTH 47

no picture to identify this man in your presence. He is the man." Bates was then given a view of the embalmed cadavar, and although he had not seen his client St. Helen for several years he at once recognized it as his old Texas friend, to whom the confession was made. On examination of the body every distinguishing mark of Booth was found —the embrasure where the shin had been fractured, the stiff and curved forefinger in which Booth invariably car- ried n small rattan cane to cover the defect; the slight scar and droop of one eye brow. On opening the trunk were found wigs, paints, cosmetics, and other theatrical trap- pings. The hair and mustache had evidently been kept well dyed, for after death they began gradually to crawl out from under the dye, giving the hair and the mustache a steel gray hue.

Although Mrs. Harper's statement is quite »:-ng, but it is so interesting and pointed that it is given at length — that is her first statement, her second simply corroborating.

"Mr. George, if thai: was his name, resided in the Territory for a number of years, and always seemed well supplied with money, the source no one knew except him- self. This money came in regular remittances. My ac- quaintance with him led me to believe he was a different person from what he represented himself — David E. George, the painter. He was eccentric and although claiming to be a house- painter, he did no work. (Painted at one house, })ut made a very mess of it). He was possessed of the highest degree of intelligence, always maintained the bear- ing of a gentleman of culture and refinement; in conversa- tion was fluent, polished and captivating, discussing subjects of the greatest moment with familiarity and ease. He had few ^Lssociates and was gloomy except he would brighten up occasionally, sing snatches of stage songs and repeat Shakes- peare in an admirable manner. Frequently answered ques- tions by quoting from some great author. At one time the young people of El Reno put on a play, and one of the cast being ill, Mr. George filled the place to the admiration and entertainment of all present. When surprise was ex- pressed at his superb interpretation on the stage he replied that he had taken some part in drama when a young man. He told different stories regarding his people. One time he said his father was a doctor and that he and a brother were the only children: then his mother had married again and had three children (half brothers to him) living in the Indian Territory. Then again he seemed lonely and de- clared that he had no relatives in the world. He was not only mysterious, but erratic, quick-tempered and excitable at times. He said he was never married. He seemed con-

48 WANDERINGS OF J. WILKES BOOTH

stantly under a cloud as though something in the past was pressing him. Seemed pleased to have people understand he was in trouble and appreciated sympathy. He remained with the Simmons family three months and treated every one with greatest kindness and consideration. Never do I remember his referring to the history of his life or that he was other than David E. George until the time he thought he was going to die — about the middle of April, 1902. He had gone up town, returning soon after where he entered the room where Mrs. Simmons, Mrs. Beers and myself were seated. He made some casual remark about the fine weather for the time of year then went to his room. In the course of about fifteen ?iinutes he called for us and said:

"I feel as though I were going to be very sick," and asked me to get a mirror. For some time as he lay on the bed he gazed at himself in the glass. Mrs. Beers said she could see the pupils of his eyes dilate and believed he had taken morphine. Being uneasy, I got him a cup of coffee and insisted until he drank it, but when I mentioned sending for a doctor he raised himself up in a dramatic and peculiar manner and voice while holding the mirror before him: "Stay, woman, stay ! This messenger of death is my guest, and I desire to see the curtain of death fall upon the last tragic act of mine." With a passionate utterance that brought tears to our eyes. As I turned to hide my emotion be called to me stating that he had something to tell me. "I am going to die in a few minutes, and I don't believe you would do anything to injure me. Did it ever occur to you that I am anything but an ordinary painter? I killed the best man that ever lived." I asked him who it was and he answered: ".Abraham Lincoln." I could not believe it, simply thinking he was nut of his head and asked: "Who was .\braham Lincoln?" "Is it possible you are so ignorant as not to know?" he asked. Then took a pencil and paper and wrote in a peculiar but legible hand the name, "Abra- ham Lincoln."

"Don't doubt it," he said, "I am John Winces Booth, I am dying now. I feel cold as if death's icy hand had me in its clutch closing my life as a forfeit for my deed."

He told me he was well off; and seemed to be perfectly rational: knew me and where he was, and I really thought in fact he was dying, vhen he exacted a pledge that I would kee]i his secret until he was dead, — adding that if any one should find out now that he was John Wilkes Booth they would take him out and hang him, and the people who loved him so well would despise him. He told me that people in official life hated Lincoln and were impli- cated in bis assassination. He said the haunt of being de- tected constantly preyed on him and was something awful

WANDERINGS OF J WILKES BOOTH 49

and that his life was miserable. He said that Mrs. Surratt was innocent and the thought that he was responsible for her death as well as that of others stalked ever before him like ghosts that would not down. He said he was devoted to acting but !vid to give it up because of his rash deed, and the thought that he had to run away from the stage when he loved the life of acting so well, made him restless and ill-tempered. He said he had plenty of money but had to play the roll of a workman to keep his mind occupied.

In the meantime Doctor Arnold arrived and as a result of his skillful treatment the patient recovered. After this he was very solicitious for weeks and questioned me as to what he had told when sick unto death. I answered that' he had told me nothing of importance, but he seemed to know better. One day while I was looking at a picture of Lincoln he 'asked the reason to which I replied that I always admired Lincoln.

"Is that the only reason you have for looking at it?" he asked, regarding me with a fierce look. As a peculiar expression came over his face, his eyes flashed and he turned pale ard walked away.

"One peculiar feature of Mr. George, or Booth, was that one eye brow was somewhat higher than the other. I have noticed him limp slightly, but he said it was rheu- matism. That the man had a past, we all knew, but what his secret was remains unknown except in so far as he may have told be truthfully."

On the evening of Jaruary 13 I was startled and surprised to read in the Enid News of the suicide of David E. Georne of El Reno, with whom I first became acquainted in March, 1900, in El Reno at the home of Mr. Simmons. Mr. Harper went down in the morning of the 14th and recognized him and told the embalmers of a confession made by David E. George to myself. I went to the morgue with Mr. Harper on the 15th and recocnized the corpse of David E. George as the man who had confessed to me in El Reno that he was John Wilkes Booth, and as brevity has been enjoined on me I will simply re-affirm my former statements made in detnil by David E. George to me at El Reno, about the middle of April. 1900. Signed by Mrs. R. G. Harper before A. A. Stratford, notary public.'

LAST WILL AND TESTAMENT

The suicide made three wills under the name of David E. George. The first of these was executed at El Reno June 17, 1902, in which he hrqueaths "To my friend .\nna K. Smith, of El Reno, Oklahoma, "all my property, both real and personal, of whatever kind and description." An- other iiirairraTih recites: "Having .special faith and confi-

50 WANDERINGS OF J. WILKES BOOTH

dence in George E. Smith, of El Reno, Oklahoma Territory, I hereby designate him executor of this, my last will and testament to serve without bond." Witnesses: Frank Anstine and W. T. Beeks. Here follows the usual jurat of witnesses.

Another "last will and testament" is of such importance that it is given in full:

I, David E. George of the County of Garfield and Territory of Oklahoma, being of sound mind and disposing memory, do make, publish and declare this to be my last will and testament, hereby revoking all former wills by me made.

1st. I give, devise and bequeath to my nephew Willy George,'if living, the seven hundred acre tract of land which I made proof upon before the Dawes Commission about four years ago, which tract of land is located m a body in the Chickasaw Nation, I. T., about ten miles southeast of Marietta, I. T., and within two miles of the Delaware Cross- ing of Red River. The intention of this gift, devise, and bequest is to give to my said nephew all of said tract of land, but in the event that I am not granted by the Govern- ment the whole of said tract then my said nephew shall have all of said tract so granted by the Government to me. I further provide that in the event that my said nephew is not alive tlien I give, devise and bequeath all of said tract of land or so much thereof as may be granted to me by the Government to the Sisters of Charity of Dallas, Texas.

2nd. I give and bequeath to my friend Isaac Bernstein, all money that may be collected from the life insurance policy I hold of $3000.00 in the Knights of Pythias Lodge No. 701 of Dallas, Texas, or any other Knights of Pythias organization or lodge, also my watch, trunk and all my wearing apparel.

3rd, I give and bequeath to my friend George E. Smith late of El Reno, O. T. all money that may be col- lected from my life insurance policy of $2500.00 in the New- York Mutual Life Insurance Co. of New York — after he shall pay from the proceeds of said insurance all my just debts, expenses of my last illness and all funeral expenses.

4th. I give and devise and bequeath to my friend S. S. Dumont the sum of ojie hundred dollars.

5th. I give and bequeath to my friend L. N. Houston the sum of one hundred and one note signed by J. W. Simmons for $350.00, note dated at El Reno, O. T. July 3, 1902 and which matures two years from said date.

6th. I give, devise and bequeath all my other property not otherwise dispose^ of both real, personal and mixed, whatsoever and wheresoever the same mar be to the Roman Catholic Church of EJ Reno, Oklahoma."

WANDERINGS OF J WILKES BOOTH 51

7th. Imposing special confidence in the integrity and ability of my friend L. N. Houston I request that he be appointed executor of my estate and that he be not required to give bond.

In witness whereof I have hereunto set my hand this 31st dav of December, 1902.

DAVID E. GEORGE. Signed, published and declared by the said David E. George to be his last will and testament in the presence of "us who at his request and in his presence and in the pres- ence of each other have hereunto subscribed our names as witnesses thereto, this the dav and date above written. R. B. BROWN, Post Office, Enid, O. T. CHAS. S. EVANS, Post Office, Enid, O. T. CHARLES O. WOOD, Post Office, Enid, O. T. Filed this 16th dav of January, 1903, in nrty office. M. C. GARBER, Probate Judge.

(No. 1)

In Record of W^ills, Page 4.6-45

Enid, Oklahoma, Jan. 13, 1902.

I am informed that I made a will ft few days ago and I am indistinct of having done so.

I hereby recall every letter, syllable and word of my will that I may have signed at Enid.

I owe Jack Bernstein about ten dollars but he has my watch in pawn for the amount.

D. E. GEORGE.

In reference to certain lands in the Chickasaw Nation varinu.«ly bequeathed by Booth in his will, in reply to inquiry Mr. Clark Wasson, superintendent of the Five Civil- ized Tribes, writes under date of Muskogee, July 27: "You are informed that the names of David E. George and Willy George do not appear upon any of the approved rolls of the Chickasaw Nation. Prior to approval of the Choctaw-Chickasaw agreement of July 1, 1902, ratified by the Choctaws and Chickasaws September 25, 1902, all of the lands in those two nations were held by the members thereof in common, etc. You are further advised .that the first allotment of land to enrolled citizens and freedmen of the Chickasaw Nation was not made until April 10, 1903."

Replying to inquiry, F. S. M. Clefment, superior of the Sisters of Charity at Dallas, Texas, states that nothing was known there whatever of this man (David E. George), etc. "We do not think we are the Sisters interested." The writei* is then referred to the Sisters of Charity of St. Paul's Ho.spital. Dallas.

32 WANDERINGS OF J. WILKES BOOTH

WHAT THE HAND REVEALED

Bently Sage, the eminent palmist, made a special trip to Enid to examine the hand of the notorious character, with the following reading as a result:

"I discover this hand to be of the spatulate type, from which I learn that the subject was emotional, erratic and governed almost entirely by inspiration. Persons who have this hand are controlled by impulse and are carried to extremes by the impressions of the instant. They are what science might term impractical. Of bright purpose and brilliant promise, they almost invariably fail to materialize their ideas. They are etherial and poetic. Their hopes are rarely fulfilled and they are not only a disappointment to themselves, but they disappoint their friends by their fail- ure to accomplish the real and material things of useful and practical life.

"This subject was no exception. His intellect was keen and wide awake and took in the details and peculiar- ities of everything he saw, but he lacked the faculty of applying his mind toward the execution of his ideas. Like all those of a spatulate type, his vivid reason was the admiration of his associates, because of his effervescent en- thusinspm and optimism, but he never came down to earth from the heights of imagination, and remained pleasure- loving, jovial and incomprehensible, was subject to mood.s of melancholy and morbidness. These latter characteristics, however, belong to those of the spatulate type. It is the non-fruition of hope to which this moodiness is due in' the spatulate hand. It is the sensitive hand that is easily repulsed, especially is this true of this individual hand. He was repelled by a gross nature, but still he had a large faculty for friendship and a strong desire for intellectual and genial friendship.

"Let it be understood that the foregoing is a study of the whole hand, which, owing to its peculiar class, being that of the spatulate, is weak in many respects. In order to correctly understand thoroughly the balance of this dis- quisition it will be necessary to take the hand in subdivisions and describe each division.

"I will begin with the thumb, which is of tinusual length. All thumbs show the possession of or lack of leadership, will power, control, integrity, reasoning, plan- ning, logic and stability.

"In this thumb I find a man of unbending nature, one who is set in his opinions and ideas, and one whom facts impress .strongly, but who did not analyze them carefully, generally depending on observation and the acts of others. .\t the base of the thumb is the mount of Venus — Venus was the mother of Love — Venus indicates the desires rf life

WANDERINGS OF J. WILKES BOOTH 68

acting upon the line of heart. His mount being full and broad at the base, indicates the emotional and sentimental. The mount of Jupiter at the base of the index finger shows pride, ambition and self-e.stcem. This man had great ambi- tion and great aspirations. He was sensijtive to a fault, and the crosses and triangles found upon this mount indicate that his ambitions were never realiz.ed. His life was ma- terially affected by disappointments and hopes that were never realized. At the base of the second finger is the mount of Saturn, which indicates the talents and gifts of the individual. His would have been literature, music, art and imitating. Being full of inspiration he could have developed the talents of art and imitating which, together with an entertaining disposition and gestures that were smooth and appropriate, he possessed the faculty of making every moment pleasant to those in his society. He was a man of dcgance and charm.

"The mount of .Vpollo, located at the base of the ring finger, indicates the success of past, present and future, and in this particular case I find the mount to be undevel- oped, showing that he had not reached the height of his ambitions, and showing that he had lived under many heavy strains, due to past failures and excitements.

"The mount of Mercury at the ba?f of thf little fineer indicates the domestic nature of the individual. This man was Inyal to true companionship, but he could love but one.

"The line of heart at the base of the fingers, .starting at the index finger, signifies marvelous powers of the occult and spiritual intuitions. It also indicates honor, wisdom and tender devotion, and in this case proves one worthy of nature's divinest gifts. His head line turns quickly downward across the line of destiny into the regions of harmony, imitation and romance, showing him to be of a sentimental and impractical nature. The line of life indi- cated around the base of the thumb, which is clear and well defined, shows he would have lived to reach a ripe old age under favorable circumstances. In the illustration of this hand is shown many fine lines spraying downward from the life line, which denotes loss of vitality and mental force. .\nd the end of the line turning upward to the region of vitality is a fatal sign with serious reverses in health. From the location and broken line of the face he appears to have been a person during his life who had a great deal of trouble and went through many trying experiences, and who could not rely upon friends for hrlp, but who had to shape his own career.

"The most interesting element in the study of palmistry is that of dates at which important events in the life of the individual have taken place, or may be expected to take

54- WANDERINGS OF J. WILKES BOOTH

place. And in the reading of this hand, to go into all of the events of his past life would take more than three pages of this paper, for under favorable conditions he would have lived to a ripe old age."

DEFENSE ON THE STAND

Here it was well to bring further evidence as to the identity of the Enid suicide in verification of the idea that he was as he claimed in his dying words to the landlady where he roomed; that his right name was John Wilkes Booth; that it was he who killed President Lincoln, etc. . As [before stated a weak point of Booth's was an inclination to moody and despondent spells, especially when attached by disease or recovering from the effects of too heavy spells at the jug, and on such occasions he invariably gave up to die, and manifested strong indications that he would seek the cup of bane to end it all. And invariably when under these spells he seemed to pine for some one on whose confidence and secrecy he could depend — some soul cmpanion that he might unbosom pent-up longings to give to the world what was hidden beneath his ever-restless bosom, feeling that in death would be his surest balm for the wfaried and worn wounds of conscience; but he always waited to the point where he considered there was no chance of recovery, and then, and only then, would he made a confidant of someone, invariably exaclty a solemn pledge of secrecy until his spirit should take its dark pilgrimage to the unknown.

City Editor Brown of the El Reno Democrat on being shown the Texas tintype declared that he knew nothing whatever of David E. George, (being a new-comer) ; but these are pictures of John Wilkes Booth. Mr. Brown said he was personally and well acquainted with John Wilkes Booth both on and off the stage. I considered him as the greatest actor of his day in America and never missed an opportunity of seeing him — after in Baltimore, New York and Washington City where I was connected with the federal army. I remember seeing him on the street in Washington City only a short time before the tragedy. I also know others of the Booth family and can not be mis- taken about these pictures. (The tintype and the one sent by Dana.) He says he was in Washington at the time the body claimed to be Booth was brought in, and owing to the secrecy and mysterious way of handling that body after it reached there created a belief quite general in the federal army that th body was not that of Booth.

Mr. U. S. Brown subsequently ran a paper at Cashion, a small station between Kingfisher and Guthrie, and served

WANDERINGS OF J WILKES BOOTH 55

one term in the Oklahoma legislature. The writer was in- timately acquainted with him and has often heard him speak of his acquaintance with prominent members of the stage, especially with John Wilkes Booth. He had no hes- itancy in declaring that in his opinion Booth was never killed; in fact, Mr. Brown declared, he was almost sure the man going under the name of George was Booth. "If not," remarked Mr. Brown to the writer while witnessing a performance at the Overholser — between acts — "it need never again be said that the Lord never made two things exactly alike." Mr. Brown went from here to Wisconsin where he died a few years ago.

Every important daily in the Missouri Valley including St. Louis, and two of the leading dailies of New York, had representatives on the ground at Enid, and not one of them that did not practically declare that the suicide could be none other than Booth. One of these dailies — the St. Louis Republic, stated editorially that there had always been a mystery surrounding the Booth matter; that there had always been serious doubt as to the party killed at the Garrett home, especially the suspicious secrecy of the de- partment and the fact that no one was given an oppor- tunity to examine the body when thousands could have readily identified it, were it really the body of Booth. There could be but one explanation: That the public was at such fever heat that it was deemed best to satisfy that public spirit, and that after pronouncing the body as that of Booth the Washington authorities seemed determined to keep up the delusion rather than acknowledge the weakness of its investigation.

The Enid Wave of January 22, 1903, while expressing doubt as to the suicide being Booth admits that "The evi- dence of Mrs. Harper as to the fact that George confessed to her in El Reno at the time he expected to die that he was none other than J. Wilkes Booth, together with the striking likeness to the assassin and the demeanor of the man in producing parts of Shakespeare's plays and songs around the saloons lends a possibility to the case. Be- sides, it is well-known that the government was never quite sure of the death of Booth ♦ • • xhe most remarkable circumstance surrounding the dead man, as leading to his identification as Booth is the fact that his right leg was broken just above the ankle. Then again comes the re- markable likeness to Booth as given in Grant's memorial. With these links come others, such as the fact that Booth was born in 1839 and was twenty-six years of age when the national tragedy occurred, and would be 63 now if still living, which is the exact age of George as shown by papers

"iti WAXDERIXGS OF J WILKES BOOTH

* * * Mrs. Harper, the wife of the Methodist min- ister firmly believes that the suicide is Booth, and there are numerous others about here who believe the same thing on account of comparisons and peculiarities of the dead man.

And here is another from H. M. ^\Jlen, editor of Harper's Weekly, who declares in a letter of January 22, 1S9S, he hasn't the slightest doubt that the rumor that John Wilkes Booth "is still alive" (1898), that frequently reached Edwin Booth, the actor, and brother of John Wilkes Booth.

In 1892 the Atlanta Constitution contained an account of the Booth matter in which the claim was made that after the tragedy he made his escape to New Orleans where he sailed for the Holy Land, remaining abroad for several years. That on returning he took up a residence in Mississippi where he then — 1892 — lived. This statement so far as Booth being in Mississippi goes to corroborate the statement of * * * who declares he met him there about that time.

Soon after the appearance of the Booth article His- toria received a newspaper clipping containing a statement from a Mrs. Chapman who says her husband was with the Booth pursuing force, and that he always claimed Booth had been killed. While Historia has no record of any. one named Chapman with the Booth pursuing force it is' not unlikely that such a person was among the thousands who took part in the memorable chase. It isn't likely however that Mr. Chapman saw the man killed at the Garrett home, otherwise some record would show the fact. He was prob- ably among others. Nor does Mrs. Chapman claim that her husband had ever seen Booth alive, hence would not have recognized him dead.

Now that Mayor Ryan of Enid declares that the suicide David E. George was not Booth and assigns as his reason that "Gcosge had grey eyes," it will be in order for some one else to also declare that the suicide was not Booth and assign as his reason that George had red hair.

J. F. Pennick writing from Detroit, Michigan, under date of March 8, 1921, says while at the public library in that city he noticed a little magazine called Historia to which his attention was especially attracted by a portrait on the front page. He at once recognized it although he says it had been a quarter of a century since he looked into the fact of "John Wilkes Booth." "I read in that

WANDERINGS OF J WILKES BOOTH 57

paper your account of the suicide at Enid," says Pennick, "which I must confess fairly startled me; for I had believed to that moment that Booth had been killed at the Garrett home soon after the assassination. I have a photo of Booth handed me by the great actor in person rnly a few months before his rash act, in 1865, and except the picture produced by you shows a little more trace of time you could scarcely tell them apart. I was so wrapped up in your account that I asked privilege of retaining the copy of Historia, but the librarian refused to let it go out. I wrote enclosing stamp for an extra copy which I received and have kept, reading and rereading your account until I am persuaded you have the matter pretty well under con- trol. I would send the photo I have were I not afraid of losing it in the mails; for I wouldn't lose it for any su!n. However, if you desire I can have a ccpy made and send you for comparison." A subsequent request was made fnr Mr. Pennick to send his copy but we failed to receive a response, yet the letter was not returned, the envelope containing return card. — Editor Historia.

Levi Thrailkell with whom the Enid suicide crossed the plains was absolutely positive as to identification. He said when camped on the South Platte some two hundred and fifty miles out from Nebraska City he received a visit fri^ni a number of distinguished gentlemen connected with the Union Pacific survey, including General Augur who had come from the Laramie country to meet the Uni'->n Pacific contingent among who were Lieut. Wheelan and Dr. Terry. I made a search for Jesse to aid in entertaining the visitors, but he was not in camp, nor did he appear until next morn- ing after the visitors had left, and then with his blankets, having slept under a clump of bushes, as he said. I ex- pressed regret that he was not present to meet the dis- tinguished visitors. He made various inquiries such as — if they were government officers, if they seemed on the trail of any one, etc. On being assured that they were all in a way government officers but were simply out there on Union Pacific survey matters and as guards over track and survey crews, the Indians being sullen at that time. "I should liked so much if you could have met these gentlemen, especially General Augur — " At the mention of Augur Jesse drew a short breath with, to himself with knit brows — "Augur!" then recovering: "Thanks, I don't care to be "bored," with evident aim to play on the name. He said he detested government "hounds" as he called them, espec- ially in uniform. On being asked why, he simply shrugged his shoUder, with — "Why does a Jew detest a grunting pig?" looking me straight in the eye. He seemed anxious

g8 WANDERINGS OF J. WILKES BOOTH

to know if cur course lay in the direction of the Augur headquartres, he being then in command of the Wyoming department. I informed him that while our course lay in the dhecticn we would not probably pass within several miles of the grvernmcnt contingent. From this on, Jesse Smiih seemed like a different man — as if anxious and dis- tressed over something — thought but little of then, but now recalled quite well. As before stated, he left us before reaching Salt Lake without a solitary "good-bye" or draw- ing a penny cf his wage."

Mr. Terry MrComas under St. Louis date of November 2, 1919, says: "Passing through Muskogee in your state en my way from Colorado to this city I ran across a copy cf a small publicTtion at the Melton Hotel in which was a story ab'-ut Booth with a small picture of him. This pic- ture called to mind an incident of my trip from the states to Colorado. Along about the first of July, 1876, I camped near a goodly stream skirting a mountain (the Bosque, I think), in northwestern Texas. Not a great way was a water wheel grist mill and small store in which was kept a few Grrnceries, tobacco and whiskey, I making purchase of the latter two items. I found in charge of the shack a very stiikinc: figure who seemed to take life easy, a Mexican parter waiting en custmers. I was importuned to remain over until after the 4lh of July as there was to be some sort of cflcbration there, some noted western border gen- eral, whose name I cannot now recall was to be the orator. I remained and was surprised at the dramatic way in which the storekeeper presided as toastmaster. On seeing the picture in the small publication referred to the face of the Texan came up vividly. If I ever heard the name of the Texan it has escaped my memory. I intended writing you before leaving Muskogee but failed to do so. I am making my home here on Franklin Street, and would appreciate a copy of your paper and also the next one and will be glad to remit."

Dr. H. W. Gay declares that he knew Booth in 1857; that while a prisoner of war at Fort Donaldson in 186-5 he was shocked to learn of the tragedy at Washington, and more so that his old actor friend Booth was charged with the deed. "Though but a boy when I first knew him," says Dr. Gay, "in appearance he was one of the most accomplished young men I have ever come in contact with. All who knew him well became captivated by him. He was one of the most hospitable, genial souls to be met, and in company was always quoting Shakespeare or some other classic poet. I read the account of his capture and death at the Garrett home, and never doubted until 1869

WANDERINGS OF J WILKES BOOTH 59

■when I was living in what is now Tate county, Mississippi. One evening near dark a young man rapped at my door and assked permission to be taken in for the night; that he was one of the ku klux klan ran out of Arkansas by Powell Clayton's militia. -I soon recognized this man," says Dr. Gay, "as an erratic fellow. During his stay at my house he told me that John Wilkes Booth was not killed at the Garrett home as generally believed, but made his escape, spending a short time in Mexico with Maximillian's army, but soon got into trouble and his life was only saved by his being a Catholic. He also told me the manner of Booth's escape after the assassination, of his mazeppa ride from the Ford theatre to the east Potomac bridge, his per- mission to proceed on giving the password, his trail via Surrattsville, Bryantown, etc. Here follows the precise routes given in the Booth confession in Texas, and later as traced on the wall map in Waukomis.

There are among questions intricate in connection with the Booth matter. It may be recalled that when Booth was dragged from the darky Lewis' wagon after crossing the Potomac he lost his large pocketbook in which were a photo of Agnes Booth, a few personal letters and a check for three hundred pounds on a Canadian bank; that being closely i)ressed by pursuers Booth asked the man Ruddy to recross the river and if possible find the old darky and secure the pocketbook and bring it to the Garrett farm after he and Herold had been to Bowling Green to secure a shoe for Booth's lame foot and other supplies which would not be earlier than two days from that date. Mean- time it will al9o he recalled Booth had given Ruddy a check for three hundred pounds on a Canadian bank in considera- tion of services in finding safe escort to within Mosbv's lines near Bowling Green. On the body of the man killed was found various papers, a check for three hundred pounds on a Canadian bank, a photo of Agnes Booth and a couple of personal letters addressed to Booth. The findins of these items on the dead body would in the absence of contrary proof lead to no other conclusion than it was Booth. This wns given at the time as a reason why no further evidence uit dfpippcl necessary, probably why the bodv was not f— hilvtpri f'-r idrntification unless^ rumors of other reasons thnua-h undercurrent at the time were more than rumors.

Speaking of the Enid suicide, the El Reno Democrat, then edited by Hon. Tom Hensley, at present a member of the Oklahoma state senate, savs in edition of June 3. 1903: "From the evidence at hand there is no doubt the man who died in Enid last January and who was supposed by some to be John Wilkes Booth, the assassin of President Lincoln,

60 U ANDERINGS OF J WILKES ROOTH

was really the man, he being identified bj- many who knew Booth before and during the war and since. After the death of the man certain papers were found on him led to the opinion that he was the fugitive assassin," etc.

The Perry Republican under date of June 5, 1903, said in regard to the Booth case, "It is now fully developed that the man who committed suicide at Enid was none other than John Wilkes Booth. Junius Brutus Booth, nephew of John Wilkes Booth, identifies the picture nf David E. George as that of his uncle John Wilkes Booth.

"It has always been known by the Booth family that John Wilkes was alive and they have been in constant com- munication with him ever since the tragedy of 186.5. This knowledge is what prompted the nephew and the brother, Edwin, as well as other meiiibers of the family to make certain remarks abcut the supposed grave of John Wilkes. They well knew that the body in the grave was not that of John Wilkes. From the time of Booth's supposed cap- ture in 1SG5 until January of this year J. Wilkes Booth has been in almost constant touch with his friends. Being an actor, and also being secluded in the wilds of Texas and the Indian Territory, and through the anxious eff'orts of relatives and friends to preserve his life it has been an easy matter for him to conceal his identity. In this he has been as smooth as was his disguise as an old colored man moving. There are no records in the Federal archives which go to show any direct or positive proof of the death of Booth.

"At the time of the suicide of George in Enid and his claim to be none other than John Wilkes Booth, the Repub- lican expressed belief in the confep«!ion of the man. All the facts in the case point to the truthfulness of his death-bed statement."

S. S. Dumont, proprietor, and B. B. Brown, clerk of the Grand Avenue, made oath that they knew the suicide who on the 3rd day of December, 1902, and the 13th day of January, 1903, registered at their hotel as David E. George, that a tintype picture shown by F. L. Bates was in every w^ay a perfect likeness in every feature of the suicide. This oath was subscribed before Guy S. Manott, notary public.

From the St. Louis Post Dispatch under Enid date of June 3, 1903: "Junius Booth, the nephew and actor, identi- fies from photographs, etc., the man, David E. George, as his uncle, John Wilkes Booth."

Enid Wave of January 27, 1903: "David E. George, a wealthy resident of the Territory, who committed suicide here, announced himself on his death-bed to be John Wilkes

WANHERINGS OF J WILKES BOOTH 81

Booth. He said he had successfully eluded the officers after the shooting and since had remained incogniti. His state- ment caused a sensation. Physicians examined the body and slated the man to be the age Booth would be at this time, and announced that his leg was broken in the same place and in the same manner as that of Booth after jump- ing from the president's box at Ford's theatre. .\11 the time George has received regular remittances of money from unknown sources, and telegrams arriving yesterday and to- day ask that the body be held for identification. It is claimed that one telegram came from the address of George E. Smith, Colfax, Iowa, the same as the mysterious money remittances. Mr. Smith on arrival commanded that no other jieison be allowed to view the remains, and promised to return for the body later. iMr. Smith was asked if Georcf li;id ever confe.s.sed anv of his life's history to him, to wiiich lie answered: 'Well yes, to some extent. He had a past of which I do not care to speak at present. • * * He may be Booth.' "

Same publication of January 21, 1903: "The Wave's force has been searching closely for data and evidence to sustain or obliterate the report that the remains lying in the F>nid morgue under the name of David E. George could possibly be John Wilkes Booth. * * * The Wave is still of the opinion that the possibility of the dead man being all that is mortal of John Wilkes Booth remains in doubt, but it must be admitted that the evidence goes to show that if George was not Booth he was his double, which in connec- tion with his voluntary confession to Mrs. Harper makes the case interesting and worthy the attention of the attorney general's department of the United States.

The December, 1901, number of the Medical Monthly Journal was devoted almost exclusively to the consideration of the assassins of presidents of the United States and of European potentates. In that pamphlet was printed a por- trait of Booth with a write-up as to his character, a physical and anotomical description. It said the forehead was kep- halonard, the ears excessively and abnormally developed inclined to the satanic type; the eyes were small, sunken and unevenly placed; the nose was normal; the facial bone and jaw were arrested in development, and there was a partial V-shaped dental arch; the lower jaw was well- developed.

"Yesterday the editor, in company with Dr. McElreth visited the corpse and compared it with the above descrip- tion of Booth, and we must acknowledge that the dead man shows all the marks credited to Booth in every partic- ular. The satanic ear is not much larger than the ordinary

ti2 WANDERINGS OF J WILKES BOOTH

ear, but the lower lobe clings close to the side of the head instead of projecting outward like the ordinary ear. The eyebrows of the dead man are not mates in appearance, which fits the description." (It may be remarked in this connection that every measurement as taken of the Enid suicide exactly fits the measurements of Booth as given in Geant's Memoirs.)

On reading accounts of the suicide at Enid, Col. M. W^. Donnelly, one of the best known newspaper men in the west wrote: "I am strongly inclined to believe that the man who committed suicide is John Wilkes Booth. In 1883 I met George although I never knew his name and don't know whether he went under that name or not. He im- pressed me. I had seen Edwin Booth and had some knowl- edge of the appearance of the Booth family." Here, Mr. Donnelly says he some time later took editorial charge of the Fort Worth Gazette and had forgotten all about meet- ing George or whoever it was at Village Mills until one night while in the Pickwick hotel bar-room with Gen. Pike, there on legal business. Major Michie of LaGrange, Tenn., Capt. Powell, then mayor of Fort Worth, and Lon Scurlock of the Cleburne paper. Capt. Day of the firm of Day & Maas was behind the bar. Mr. Donnelly here gives the story of the young man coming in at which Gen. Pike threw up his hands with: "My God! John WMlkes Booth!" and became so excited that he had to be assisted to his room. Mr. Donnelly refers to Temple Houston agreeing to make search for the stranger, substantially as related elsewhere in this volume: "I never saw Booth, but have seen pictures of him and am convinced that the Enid suicide was him. I am also convinced that the venerable author of 'Every Year' believed it was Booth."

One of the highest compliments ever paid John Wilkes Booth was by Secretary John Hay the eminent statesman and pnet who as last as the first part of 1890 wrote in part that he "was a young man of twenty-six, strikingly handsome, with a pale olive face, dark eyes, and that ease and grace of manner which came to him by right from his theatrical ancestry." Then in regard to the escape: "Booth in his flight gained the navy bridge (East Potomac) in a few minutes and was allowed to pass the guards, and shortly afterward Herrold came on the bridge and was allowed to pass; a moment later the owner of the horse rode by Herrold came up in pursuit of his animal, and he, the only honest man of the three, was turned back by the guards. If Booth had been in health there is no reason why he should not have remained at large a long while. He misht even have made his escape to some foreign country. • * •

VV'yVXDERINGS OF T WTT,KES BOOTH 63

It is easy to hide among sympathizing people; many a union soldier escaping from prison walked hundreds of miles through the enemy's country, relvjng only upon the friend- ship of negroes. Booth from the time he crossed the navy yard bridge received the assistance of a large number of friends. With such devoted assistance he might have wand- ered a long way. • » • From the nature of things he might have escaped."

Col. Edwin Levan of Monteray, Mexico, wrote a story in which he declared that a man whom he believed to be Booth, but giving his name as J. J. Marr, roomed with him during the winter of 1868 in Lexington, Ky.; and he openly told the man that he believed him to be Booth, which met no denial; but shortly after "Marr" left Lexing- ton, where he had held out as a lawyer, but did no practice. Levan says that he subsequently learned that "Marr" settled in Village Mills, Texas, and from there went to Glen Rose Mills in Hood county, Texas.

What power influenced Gen. Augur to call off the guards about Washington the fatal night of April 14, 1865? What superior influence was brought to bear on General Grant to have him suddenly leave Washington that same evening after it had been arranged he should occupy a box with Mr. and Mrs. Lincoln at the Ford? Who furnished Booth and Herrold with the pass word that let them cross the bridge? Why were they permitted to pass at so late an hur when, as John Hay puts it, "the only honest man of the three" was not permitted to pass. Could Booth or Herrold either of them or both have accomplished these things? Of courses not. Then — It is said a fool can ask questions a wise man cannot answer.

KNEW BOOTH IN WASHINGTON

Among the many citizens of Enid who were there in 1903, one of them seems to have been specially interested in George. This is George Fairgrieves, at present a dray- man. His mother was in Ford's theatre M'hen the tragedy occurred, saw Booth make the famous leap as he held a dagger aloft and cried "sis semper tyranus." In 1903 when the saloon was a popular resort for night-idlers of Enid, young Fairgrieves usually held an evening chair at either Blondie's Hot Dog or the Whitehouse, both on the west side of the square, faro being "without limit" at each. Here George spent an occasional night, but seldom took a hand in any of the games except when he should notice some unsophisticated fellow at the table to be fleeced by the gang. On such occasions George would get into the game, evidently for the sole purpose of making a killing

6i \\^\NDERIXGS OF J. WILKES BOOTH

so as to save the young unsophistic; usually taking the pot and handing the young tenderfoot back his losings with an admonition: "Young man, beware of the other man's game." The night before the suicide young Fairgrieves, Andy Morrison, Lee Boyd and a few others were present where George was pretty well in his cups. On one of his friends advising him that he would best go to his room, George tipped his glass with a pleasing smile,

This my last token of esteem!

This the final of a fruitless dream.

Then drink once more from the spirit glass!

For this the ending! No more! Alas!

The tides are here and we must sever-;--

Again to mingle greetings never!

No more — "tis our last drink together!"

Like chaff we're drifting here and hither,

We go, we go — we know not whither:

Drifting! Drifting down fate's river.

No more we'll meet in reckless pleasure'

No more we'll tread to revel's measure!

So here! Our souls more sadly pressed--

One more drink— to lend the spirit rest.

Yet drink no draft of parting pain;

That parting greet with merry frain.

For here our social tares shall wither

To drift as lightened blows of hether.

As on we go! We go — we know not whither.

Drifting! Drifting down fate's river.

There was an eloquence that fairly thrilled and a pathos that would have stirred us all to greater depths had we even suspected that the lines were from deeper than the lips. It was the last I saw of poor Gerge until I saw him at the morgue. Poor old chum — David E. George as we knew him. He was always so kindly disposed, a com- moner though always immaculate in dress and deportment. He seemed to me like some rich, refined idler whose time hung havy and who was trying to forget something. He was a consumate elocutionist, quoting classic authors with a readiness that made him a captivating guest. I shall never forget the kindly admonitions which fell from his lips, and to them I feel that I owe much. As to his being Booth, of course I do not know, except I can't believe he would have said he was on a dying couch without it being so. Besides, an Irish chum of mine told me right after the suicide that he, my Irish friend, knew Booth when he was a young man; knew the marks that would be found on the suicide if indeed he was Booth. My Irish friend in- sisted on my accompanying him to the morgue, and there

WANDERINGS OF J WILKES BOOTH 65

every mark, including the scar over one eyebrow was found Lee Boyd, at present the veteran telegraph operator of the exactly as my friend had described. Mr. Fairgrieves says Rock Island, Enid, who was also at the Ford Theatre the night in question and could no doubt recall the scene "at parting." The lines were penned by the author of this volume a number of years previous, but had never been published. The only way George could have gotten hold of them, the writer thinks — they must have been among the pencilings handed him during his Waukomis visit. And one of the greatest assets of a dramatic artist is his faculty of committing to memory. One reading at any number of lines can be repeated at will.

SAW LINCOLN SHOT.

William J. Ferguson was a call boy at the Ford, and had been given occasional minor parts on the stage. On the night of the tragedy he had the part of Lieutenant Vernon, the Mid-Shipman, in place of Courtland Hess who was unable to take the assignment. Young Ferguson, then only 16, had a "hair breadth escape" from being either strung up or sent to Dry Tortugus. He was well acquainted with Booth and sometimes) looked after his horse. On this night he was requested to hold the animal, which it seems had two deformities — blind in one eye, and "wouldn't stand hitched." But on this occasion young Ferguson was too much occupied "on the ship" and Ned Spangler, a scene shifter was requisitioned as hoss-holderj but his duties were such on the stage that he turned the reinsi over to Joe Burroughs, a bill carrier and general handy about tha theatre. The latter escaped being sent up or swinging with the other "conspirators" from the fact that he did not re- ceive the reins directly from Booth, but from Spangler who was sent to Dry Tortugus for the "crime." Besides, the lad was knocked down by Booth as he mounted, presum- ably to keep him from raising a cry. Mr. Ferguson is so far as the writer can learn, one of the only three living stage characters who were with Our American Cousins. Since that day he has developed into one of the foremost actors on the American stage, and is still in that line, though transferred mostly to the screen. He also makes contributions to various magazines, one of his articles ap- pearing in the American Magazine of August, 1920, under the title of "I Saw Lincoln Shot!" This Is the most com- plete and authentic account yet given — he being the only person who saw Booth almost continuously from the mo- ment he entered the theatre until landing on his horse af- ter the fatal shot. The portrait in this volume illustrated the American Magazine story.

66

WAXDERINGS OF J. WILKES BOOTH

I was standing in the front entrance just off the stage, says Mr. Ferguson, wlien Mr. and Mrs. Lincoln, accompan- ied by Major H. R. Rathbone and Miss Clara Harris were

in the balcony box to the right and directly in front of me about thirty feet away. At my side was Miss Laura Keene, and I was just on the eve of "speaking my piece" follow- ing a soloquy by Harry Hawk as "Asa Trenchard." The second scene of the third act had been reached, when sud- denly a shot rang out close to where the President was sit.

WANDERINGS OF J. WILKES BOOTH 67

ting in a rocking chair hidden from the audience by drap- ery and the wooden walls which shut off his balcony box. There was a puff of smoke. The President's head sagged forward. The same instant Booth sprang to the front of the box, grasping the rail with his right hand, a bowie in the left. From the balcony box to the stage is a direct drop of twelve feet. As Booth was in the act of springing over, Major Rathbone rushed forward and grabbed him by the coat tail, but his hold was broken as Booth lunged back and gave a vicious thrust, inflicting an ugly gash in the Major's left arm. In vaulting over the rail Booth's spur caught in the drapery, at which he made an ariel whirl and fell in a lump on the stage. Almost instantly however, he was on his feet, and rushed across the front of the stage toward the entrance where Miss Keene and I were standing. Dimly I recognized that the President had been shot, and I knew that Booth, withi whom I was well acquainted, and with whom I talked only a few hours pre- vious, had done the deed. His olive complexion, and his handsome oval face was blanched to a deathly white. His black eyes blazing, his lips drawn firmly against his teeth as he panted in pain from his fractured leg, in another mo- ment he had run between Miss Keene and myself, pushing us apart and back against the walls of the entrance. I felt the hot breath on my cheek as he shoved me with his left hand, the knife flashing before my eyes. Back of the wings was a narrow passage wliich led to a door in the rear wall entering into an alley. Miss Jenney Gourtney, one of the players and William Withers, leader of the or- chestra, were in the passage and blocked the path of escape, but as he rushed down this passage. Withers turn- ed in surprise at the commotion and received a slash in his coat. By this time I had partially recovered from my daze and followed Booth as far as the angle in the wall when he dashed through the rear door, leaving it open behind him. Little Jonny Burroughs who was holding Booth's, horse was shoved to the ground (Burroughs says he was. knocked down and given a swift kick) as Booth sprung in- to the saddle and dashed off under spur. Not to exceed forty seconds 'elapsed between the firing of the shot and flight.

68 WANDERINGS OF J. WILKES BOOTH

RODDY MAKES HIS INITIAL BOW

One of the most important bits of information touch- ing the escape of Booth comes from Mr. W. P. Carneal, postmaster of Lent, near the Garrett farm. Here the first mention of the name Roddy is made, except in the Booth confession. "Bill Rollins and a man named Roddy crossed the river with Booth and Herold." Mr. Carneal encloses the only statement ever made by any member of the Garrett household which will through this volume be given publicity for the first time. The statement is from William Garrett, eldest son, who was an "eye witness" as well as an "ear witness" to the Garrett home affair from first to last.

One evening a while before dark, says Garrett, a couple of men on horseback and in Confederate uniforms came to our place, having with them another young man who had no uniform but had a sore leg. They wanted the crippled young man taken in until arrangements could be made to get him a place of safety. At first father didn't want to do it, but the Confederate officers said they would see that he got into no trouble, so the young man was taken in and the two calvarymen paced off to keep picket and give warn- ing if any federals came up, so the crippled man told us. He stayed in the kitchen that night where brother Jack and I sleep. The next evening when the crippled man was In the front yard on the grass the two cavalrymen came up as fast as they could, said something about they must get to the woods, so one of them took the crippled man on the horse and they started toward the heavy woods this side of the Port. One of the cavalrymen started toward Bowl- ing Green. They were in such a hurry that they didn't say goodbye or if they would come back. That night broth- er Jack and I kept awake much of the time thinking the men might come back, and father told us not to let any more strangers stay there. Awhile before day when it was as dark as charcoal outside I heard some one tap on the back door. I crawled out of bed without making any fuss because I didn't want to wake father and mother who were asleep up stairs. So I opened the door but it was so dark

WANDERINGS OF J. WILKES BOOTH 69

I could only see that there were two of them and one was larger and seemingly older by his voice, but the younger one done most of the talking. He said they had come a long ways on foot and was going to some court house but was too tired to go any farther without rest, and they wanted a place to stay. I told them father didn't want to let any strangers stay there, but if they would be careful and not wake the folks they could stay awhile. They said as they might want to leave at any moment they would prefer some outhouse or crib, so they could go there with- out disturbing the "old folks" as they called them. I told Jack to not for anything wake father and mother and the men would be gone so they needn't know they had stayed there. So I showed the strangers to the crib. It was so dark you could not see your hand before you, but I knew the place so well I found the crib door and let them go in where there was hay and cornstalk blades for them to rest on. I stopped around awhile to see that they didn't take the horses as they had none. Pretty soon I heard ft noise at the house and hurried there where a lot of men in Union uniforms and one of them an officer had the door open demanding that a light be lit and "that damn'd quick," he said. Just then I heard mother raise the upstairs window and ask who was there and what they wanted. "No matter who we are — we want a light." Then I heard father coming down stairs and he lit a candle and when he went to the ooor another officer came up and said "you have some one in here and we want him." Father tried to tell the new officer that there had been a man there but he wouldn't let him. "We are not going to listen to any of your excuses," said the officer, "where is he." Then father told him they had gone. "Gone where?" said the officer, and father told him to the woods. Then brother Jack began ransacking the house to see if the crippled man had come back. But the officer grabbed father and pulled him on the porch and called for a rope and said he would swing him to one of the sycamore limbs. I then told them not to harm father and I would tell them. "Father is scared. He don't know," I said. I was grabbed by the arm like all savage and I saw I had to tell them something, so I told them, "they went to the crib. I'll show you where they are." One of the officers took the candle and we went to the crib, but it was dark as could be in there and not a sound. Pretty soon there was a rustle in the fodder and the officer said I must go in and tell the man in there to give up his arms and surrender. I didn't want to go but he said I must, and he called to the man in there that he would send me in for the arms and he must surrender. Just then there was whispering, showing that there was

70 WANDERINGS OF J. WILKES BOOTH

more than one in there. One of them said to the other he could "go and be damned; I don't want you here any way.'* As soon as I got in the man inside snatched up something I thought was a gun and told me to get out, that I had given him a cold deck, or something, and I rushed back to the door and told them the men in there were armed to the teeth and would shoot me. I was let out and the officer again called for surrender or there would be a bon- fire and a shooting match. But one of the men in the crib said: "There is a damned young fellow in here who wants to give himself up. As for me — I want time to study." The officer told him he could have just two minutes. Then one of the men inside told the other to "go, you damned coward! I don't know you! You have betrayed me and I don't want you to stay." and, continues the statement, "He kept cursing him to the last." About this time some one set fire to some hay and poked it through a crack and almost as if it was a powder house the whole inside of the crib was ablaze, and for the first time the men inside could be seen, although they could see those outside. One of the men at once began "running" from one side to the other looking for a way to get out or a crack to pop any one who got in the way. The door was broke open and one of the men grabbed the young man and piled on top of him and was dragging him out when some one shot through a crack and the other man inside bounded toward the door and fell on his face. In an instant one of the officers was on him and his clothes was afire. The young man was taken outside and tied to a tree, and the other man was taken out before he burned and carried to the porch and put on some planks with an old coat and a pillow for his head. "Who was it got shot?" asked the young man who had ffiven up. "You know well enough who it was," answered the officer. "No, I do not know who it was." "Yes. you do," said the officer. "You know it is Booth." "No, I tell you, I don't know it w.as Booth," said the young man. "He told me his name was Boyd." (This corroborates a state- ment made by Captain Dougherty with the addition that: "Herold told me afterw'ard that he met this man by acci- dent about midnight after the tragedy; that they crossed the Potomac at Mathias Point together." Captain Dough- erty further mentions the home of Dr. Stewart as one of the stopping places of the fugitives.)

The statement was s'^-n'-d bv William Garrett in the presence of Postmaster Carneal.

Now, who were "they" so rften referred to?

WANDERINGS OF J WILKES BOOTH

71

Captain Jett whose word seemed a pledge not only to the pursuers, but also to the government, he being a wit- ness in the conspiracy court to identify Herold, states that after parting with Booth, Her- old and Roddy at the ferry — Booth and the two lieutenants headed for Garrett's. He {IllilHl ^ ''%s^ ,^FWlL "^^t saw Herold the following '/ //// /ll/^'\. V^^^^Mwr W' t*''*y in Bowling Green where

he remained until after sup- per when he started on foot for Garrett's. "And that was the last I saw of him," says the Captain, "until next morn- ing as he was dragged from a barn as a prisoner; and I then recognized him as the party I saw with Booth while crossing the river," and who I saw in Bowling Green the next day." Did the captors point to the stretcher and ask: "Is that the party with whom you saw this young man at the ferry?" They did not. Captain Jett had pledged to tell nothing but the truth, and like most south- ern young men, that word was considered inviolate. Sup- pose the Captain had been asked to identify the dead man and he had said: "No. That is not the man." Blewey! Up goes glimmering ever\' gleam of promise so near fulfill- ment. Glory turned loose to mingle with nil. And thnt "mount of laureat lustre." Leastwise, Captain Jett was saved the embarrassment of having to choose between his pledge to thp pursurers and iiis pledge to see tlie crippled man to a safe harbor.

And referring to the arrest of Captain Jett at Bowling Green. The first demand was that he reveal the where- abouts of the parties he had helped cross the river. This was embellished by the polish on Conger's gun. "He is on the road to Port Royal," replied the Captain. Then as if to anticipate any embarrassing query such as "how do you know?" he side-stepped. "I thought you were from Rich- I'-id. hut if you came by the Garrett farm you may have t", -^fi Iv-,. off." Was the Captain merely stalling: or did he in t':\(t Uncw? May it not be that while either Ruggles

72 WAXDERIXGS OF J WILKES BOOTH

or Bainbridge were escorting Booth to the woods the other was headed for Bowling Green to post the Captain, which could easily have been done by one on a swift horse before the arrest of Captain Jett.

In summing up the statement of young Garrett it may seem somewhat significent that he nowhere uses the word ■"cripple"; nor of any tumbling and lunging and hobbling about either out or within the crib; no act or word that so much as suggests a "cripple". No. As soon as the fire started, the victim began "running" from first one side to the other. Even the little item of a crutch, let alone two of them, is not mentioned. Before him arose no plume of honors; no glint of gold, all hinging upon whether the man captured was Booth "dead or alive." The sympathies of the young man were all on the side of the southland, and naturally if he had any incentive it would be to throw the pursuers off the track and stop the hunt by identifying the man on the porch as Booth. Young Garrett did hear some- things. For instance he heard the older man in the crib tell the other to "Go, you damned coward!" and "he kept cursing him to the last." Does this sound like Booth to who many think that smacked of the vulgar or profane was abomniable? In fact that was a family trait in the Booth household. Doesn't it sound more like a river man — a Roby, or a Boyd, for instance? "You have betrayed me." Does that sound like Booth in branding as a damned coward one who had stood faithfully by him through thick and thin. Who had staked all — honor, position — his very life, having just then abandoned safety within the Confed- erate lines in order to be at the side of his greatest of all friends — his god-father, as it were? Such expressions, such suspicions might, not seem so far-fetched coming from a comparative stranger who could easily imagine that he had been inveigled into the jaws of death to make vicarious sacrifice that a bosom friend might escape.

Before closing reference to Mr. Carneal's letter: Every effort to secure trace of any one named Roddy or Boyd has been disappointing. In answer to innumerable letters to old-timers within a wide radius of Ports Royal and Conway and Mathias Point, has invariably resulted in replies that "Never heard of any one going by either of these names." The name of Roddy is unknown, unmentioned until receipt of the letter from Mr. Carneal. Now, where did that mys- tpri-n« name "Roddy" come from — ho^v did it reach tlie ear of the immediate Garrett household? It could not have come from the Booth confession; for that had not been given to the public. Booth could not have gotten it from the Garrett's; for this is the first time any statement from any member of the Garrett house has ever been given to the

WANDERINGS OF J. WILKES BOOTH 73

public. As to the other conjurable name — Boyd. In an early day an adventurer named Boyd — first name may have been Rodney — settled on a ranch in the then wilderness of Virginia at a point some miles below Mathias where Booth, Herold and Boyd crossed the Potomac. But he has long since dropped from earth and his name from memory. That these two names should be so wholly unknown among old-timers would indicate that both of these characters — if indeed thej' were not one and the same, must have dropped out as suddenly and mysteriously as they dropped in. Again — where could young Garrett have gotten it un- less it was drbpped by one of the "two strangers" either before or after entering the crib? For further question let the distant cavers answer.

Now, honor bright — who among all those giving state- ments concerning the killing at the Garrett home was in better shape than was young Garrett; with no incentive save to give acts and words as they are remembered by him without varnish or evasion. Before him no vision of honor or profit loomed; certainly without ambition to "see his name in print," else he would not have waited so long. No incentive of the most precious of all rewards — conscious- ness of having done a duty to receive that acclaim — "well done, thou good and faithful." On the other hand here was a company of brave and daring men as ever donned a uniform, as loyal to duty, to their country as any men on earth, not a fibre in the make-up of one of them that wasn't of pure metal; not an impulse that needed either hope of honors or reward to stimulate to deeds of heroism, of valor. That fabulous rewards were in waiting, that honors were sure to those who should avenge the death of America's most beloved, however high heaped the golded bushel, as a stimulous this could have entered only uncon- sciously. Nor should be held lightly the long and arduous search through heat and all kinds of inclement weather, fatigued to the verge of exhaustion. "Vigilant in watch, "with little to eat and less sleep," so worn-out that some of them "dropped from their horses to rest a spell on the wayside sands." Their only conscious stimulous the song of victory almost in hearing, the crown of honors fairly within grasp, and the patriotic acclaim of a grateful people, their toil and sweating all at an end. Yet take account: What confusion, what a heterogenious conglomerate scram- ble of disorder, every man a general, discipline lost in the dense of that "darkest hour before day." In the enemy's countrv where for aught they knew numbers untold were in ambush. At least one desperate man with his life at stake and armed to the teeth, in that crib where he could pick off those outside by the candle light while he was

74 WANDERINGS OF J. WILKES BOOTH

invisible to them. Stillness vieing in its awe with the hush of death; no sound, scarcely breathing save now and then a low murmur, a rustle of the hay beneath the shuffling feet cautiously feeling a way for some chance to take a "leap in the dark," perhaps take a shot at any one who should happen in range. Indeed, what scope for imagination as these tired and gaulded men circled cautiously aoout, one dodging here, another in there, each for self, every whisper of the winds, every rustle of the forest leaves coming up like kelpy voices from the caverns of unfathomable. Ordi- narily, testimony given in harmony and exactness by sev- eral witnesses et literatum and in situation tends to strengthen; but the reverse in this case. That all the var- ious "eye v/itnesses" on the government side, amid such anxiety and confiusion in dense darkness as wraiths of nights pipe low whisperings add dismal to the weird, should tell their stories in such exact harmony — smacks rather of the conned and coached, under legal skill.

A QUESTION OF IDENTITY

"Yes, but didn't Booth's brother and John Ford, one of his most intimate friends, identify the body buried at Green Mound Cemetery as John Wilkes Booth?" Of course they did. Up to that time there was a growing belief that seem- ed fast becoming' universal that Booth was not killed at the Garrett home. Thousands of vigilant eyes were on the watch, thousands of man-hunters were ready with vulture greed to pounce upon him if still alive; some for the re- puted fabulous rewards, some for the "honor," some be- cause they liked the smell of human blood. Suppose that body had not been identified as that of Booths? What was more natural than that the family and his immediate friends would say to the world: "Call off your sleuths for Booth is dead." There were at least two "eye-witnesses" whose consciences were too tender for trusting; that might if they didn't think it was Booth, say so — Clara Morris and Blanche Chapman, both of whom had been on the stage with Booth. To these the injunction "After you have seen put vour fingers to your lips and keep mum." And they did even as enjoined, except that Clara Morris simply shook her head, with: "Poor unfortunate John Wilkes Booth; so kind, so full of hope and promise. Of course I can not condone his rash act; but it wasn't him; it was the spirit of those higher up, of influence and of baser de- signs who knew his dauntless courage, his fidelity to any trust imposed on him." And again shaking her head "these are the real assassins. Booth was but the instru- ment in their hands."

WANDERINGS OF J. WILKES BOOTH 75

SEEMS UNTHINKABLE

In the opinion of the writer one of the weak points in the Texas confession is where Booth makes the direct charge that he received his first impulse to other than kidnap the President only a few hours before the fatal shot', from a party named. For details, see page 19. It may be that he got his first idea of killing at the conference stated in the confession. In fact, there is a preponderence of evidence that up to that time kidnapping was the only thing ever hinted by Booth to his co-conspirators or any one else, not even to his closest confident. As to the con- ference referred to, that is not among the unthinkables, for it is in evidence that only a short time before the hour designated, the private secretary of the party referred to delivered him a card on which' appeared: "Don't want to disturb you. Are you at home?" Signed J. Wilks Booth in his recognized hand-writing. But what transpired, the purpose and results of that conference, if indeed it was more than a mere friendly call — that is something differ- ent. Such a meeting should not be construed as strange, for it may be noted that Booth's great versatility, his en- tertaining ways and attractive personality insured him ac- cess to the best of homes and gave him companionship with the elite including the most eminent union statesmen regardless of the well-known sympathies of him with the South. Even Union army officers were not averse to mix in with the clever artist and mingle toasts over the bar, not infrequently until tongues took on strange activity, a condition not so much under the ban of censure then as in later years. And in such condition, men were liable to say strange things, do strange things — which would not for a moment have found utterance or action in sober moments. It is not always true that persons do and say only the things they think when sober. More often quite the contrary. Disease is but a branch or element in nature which invariably seeks way of least resistance. In- toxication is a disease and nature-like seeks way of least resistance in its attacks on the faculties of the patient, stilling first the weakest or easiest to resist and then the next, and so on until the weaker faculties have been "put to sleep" giving the pre predominating one full sway. It that trends to music, the patient wants/ to sing; if com- batativeness he wants to fight; if amativeness he wants to fondle over you, etc. It may be possible that "drink of strong brandy" referred to in the confession with others "before and after" got in its work of "putting to sleep" the conservative faculties and the very words said to have given Booth his first notion of killingj may have been ut- tered— words that in sober moments would have choked.

76 WANDERINGS OF J. WILKES BOOTH

Booth was in no sense trivial but very much matter of fact, taking everything seriously; hence took these maud- lings to heart as if really meant and acted upon the ir- reverent hint.

It was an open secret if not more that the most perfect amity did not exist between Mr. Lincoln and the Vice- President, which is indexed by a single incident: One day as Mr. and Mrs. Lincoln were walking down Pennsylvania Avenue the Vice-President was noticed some distance be- hind coming in the same direction. "Why is that fellow for- ever following me?" remarked Mr. Lincoln with a frown. Many of the most eminent statesmen of the Union side had no use for the vice-president, partically, perhaps, because he was a southern man, but probably most out of partizan- ship on behalf of the chief executive. This feeling found emphatic expression through impeachment proceedings wherein the vote of either Senator Ross of Kassas or Trumbull of Illinois, both republicans, would have hurled the new president from his chair in humility and disgrace. And so strong was that feeling toward the president that the two republicans who refused to vote "guilty," signed their death-warrant. It may be pertinent to here state that Mr. Lincoln also had his enemies — not confined to south- ern people, but many of the big fellows of his own side had no use for him politically — those who expected to reap a great harvest by despoliation of the conquered states, felt that Lincoln would prove a Gibralter between them and that spoliation. They feared him because of the wonder- ful hold he had on the people — in fact no ruler was more beloved and revered by the subjects of any country. That these profiteering adventurers would go to the length of counternancing any rash measures in getting him out of the way is scarcely believable; but that he was in their road is more than open secret. Again, his hold upon the af- fections of the people was a source of jealousy that was more than casually observed. That there were "enemies within the ranks" was hinted by a number whose state- ments in regard to the difficulties with which the govern- ment had to contend in its pursuit of the fugitives were given.

Now as to the change which Booth claimed "came over the spirit of his dreams," that soon after the mystic hour of the last conference at the Kirkwood on the evening of the tragedy. Booth sent for his co-conspirators to meet him at the Herndon, where for the first time the first hint of kill- ing was given; that the attempt to kidnap on March 18 had failed, and Richmond now being under Federal control making the plot to kidnap impossible, he decided to change the plan to that of killing the President. This suggestion seems to have come to Aztferodt and Payne like a thunder

WANDERINGS OF J. WILKES BOOTH 77

clap from a clear sky. After a round at the bar of bane as If to clear away the fog, these co-conspiratois, each put In a flat veto — they had agreed to aid in capture but not to kill. "All right," said Booth. "I wili do the job alone, but I want you to have one more, and perhaps, last drink together." Payne declined, but Azterodt — was never known by his closest friends to decline. Meantime young Payne, then only eighteen years old, sought a quiet corner to himself. Now, thi^ poor devil of a George A. Azterodt was only a common boat-maker of Port Tobacco by .which name he was generally known, considered harmless as he was worthless. He had three distinct yet blending char- acteristics— inordinate cowardice, inordinate boasting when full to a certan degree, of what all he wasn't afraid to do; and of an inordinate! tasts for squirrel whisky, and of never letting up when once on the tank wagon until too full for utterance, let alone action. Another round at this bar and Azterodt was at the boasting point; but neverthe- less, when Booth said to him : "I