The Mammoth Book of Celebrity Murders (5 page)

Booth had heard news that Lincoln was to attend Ford’s Theatre on 18 January, where he would watch a production of
Jack Cade
, so he put the word out to his conspirators to meet him
in Washington, although how many showed is not known. In any event the night in question was stormy and Lincoln decided to stop at home.

This turn of events made Booth reconsider his plan. He wasn’t convinced of the reasons that the President stayed home that evening and wondered whether news of his plan had reached
official ears. He put the plan on hold and the conspirators went their separate ways for a while, Booth moving to New York and the others simply went back to where they had come from. Had it been
left up to the others then it is most unlikely that the plan would have been enacted at all, for it is thought that with the exception of Surratt the others were sceptical that the plot would ever
come to fruition.

By February, with yet more bad news gracing the front pages of America’s newspapers, Booth tried to rekindle the interest amongst his band of merry plotters. During his efforts to rally
the troops, a number of whom seemed to have lost their enthusiasm, Booth came across another potential helper and one who seemed significantly more competent than the others. Lewis Thornton Powell
had been a private in the Confederate Army, who had had once seen Booth on the stage which was the basis of a chance conversation they had. Somehow the two reached an understanding, Powell was
recruited and Booth rewarded him with new clothes and money to spend. Powell became Booth’s most trusted associate and was considered to be an excellent recruit. Powerfully built and with a
violent temper, he could be relied upon in times of trouble, yet was docile and obedient in Booth’s company, referring to Booth as “Cap”.

In February 1865, Powell arrived in Washington having in the meantime changed his name to Lewis Paine after turning himself over to the Federal authorities and swearing an oath of allegiance to
the Union. He called at the boarding house of Mrs Surratt, where as others would later testify, Paine was warmly welcomed and offered supper and a room in the attic.

With Paine now in Washington Booth’s assembled gang of conspirators were all ready and present, with Surratt travelling back and forth between Washington and Richmond, and Arnold and
O’Laughlin on call in Baltimore. The others, David Herold, George Atzerodt and the theatre’s handyman, Ned Spangler, were also awaiting instructions.

Throughout this period of extended planning Booth had also managed to collect an impressive array of knives and guns. One of his associates would later recall how he had barged in on Booth one
day and caught him with several guns spread out on a bedroom table – the day in question just happened to be Inauguration Day. Whether Booth had planned to shoot the President at this most
special event is not known for sure – he certainly had a viable opportunity for he had been given a special ticket to the event and would have been perfectly placed to carry out the attack,
although this approach lacked the benefit of a realistic escape plan.

Booth was amongst the crowd when Lincoln gave his famous, five-minute inaugural address, during which he uttered words of reconciliation. Looking much older than his 56 years, Lincoln spoke of
his hopes for a land soon to be at peace. He spoke of freedom for all, the need to bind up the nation’s wounds and the desire to look after the country’s widows and orphans. The crowds
who had gathered to listen absorbed the words and were keen to move to a more united future, all that is except for Booth – the speech hadn’t moved him at all.

As Booth had anticipated, the security on Inauguration Day was tight, with marksmen positioned all around the great room. The entrances were manned by armed guards and only those with legitimate
passes were allowed in. All coats and garments that could have concealed a weapon had to be removed at the door – thanks to Lincoln’s friend Lamon, no chances had been taken.

By now Lincoln had begun to believe that the need for high security had been overstated. As the war was about to end he received an invitation from General Grant to witness the end of the
Confederacy at first hand. The President was keen and on 23 March 1865, he made his way to Grant’s headquarters on the James River, near Petersburg. Believing that the situation was safe
Lincoln even brought along his wife, Mary Todd Lincoln, a decision which would in due course have an influence on future events. Mrs Lincoln did not get on well with General Grant’s wife,
Julia, and the two had a number of cross words, after which Julia Grant spent much of her time trying to avoid being in Mrs Lincoln’s company.

During Lincoln’s visit to the front line General Grant launched the full might of his army against the entrenched Confederates and was soon rewarded with their retreat. Lincoln quickly
wired his War Secretary that Robert E. Lee’s army had abandoned the Petersburg trenches; this was followed by another wire a short time later declaring that Richmond had fallen.

Lincoln now chose to visit the captured Confederate capital to see the situation for himself. Accompanied by only a dozen armed soldiers the President walked through Richmond’s downtown
area, moving from building to building. The white people who saw him looked glum but none appeared to bear him malice and none made any attempt to attack him. As a result of this Lincoln now
believed that if he could walk safely through a one-time Confederate stronghold he must surely be safe in Washington; from then on he began to take less precautions for his personal safety.

Booth was in Washington when news of Richmond’s fall was received and had to watch as the streets erupted into thunderous celebration, a bitter pill for a Confederate sympathizer to
swallow. In the days that followed the papers reported the events, presenting victorious headlines and reflecting on the euphoria which now engulfed the capital city. Whether it was in reaction to
the public celebrations that spurred Booth on is not known, but he strongly resented the outpouring of glee which was visible on all but a few of Washington’s residents.

Shortly after the fall of Richmond, on 13 April, Grant and his wife returned to Washington where they became the centre of the public’s attention, everyone wanting to see the hero who had
defeated the Confederacy. A police escort had to be provided to ensure the unrestricted passage of Grant from his hotel to the War Office where he had some administrative duties to take care of.
From there he was escorted to the White House where he met with the President, during which Lincoln invited General Grant and his wife to a theatre performance the following evening.

Grant was well aware of the frosty relations which existed between his wife Julia and Mary Lincoln and did not relish the thought of having to spend an evening in the tight squeeze of a theatre
box with them. With the war now over he was also keen to visit his children who were elsewhere at boarding school. It would be this reason he would give for not being able to attend the theatre,
but in reality it was Mrs Lincoln’s brash manner which kept them away and which saved them from the possible danger they would have been in had they gone to the theatre that night.

On the morning of 14 April 1865, Lincoln called together his war cabinet for a brief meeting, during which Grant reviewed the surrender of Richmond with them. When the meeting was concluded
Grant was able to make his excuses and went back to his hotel to collect his wife and belongings.

Booth too had heard of Grant’s arrival in Washington and watched as the crowds continued their merry celebrations at the expense of people like himself. The overzealous nature of the
town’s elation left Booth with a strong desire to wipe the smiles off their faces and so he set about planning his revenge. The one observation which Booth had noted was the President’s
habit of visiting the theatre with any special guest who arrived in town. He concluded therefore that he would extend the same invitation to General Grant and began making enquiries as to where the
President might go. Booth began visiting the multitude of show houses and enquired within if any were expecting the President. By checking the billboards Booth could see that Ford’s Theatre
was presenting a long-running show called
Our American Cousin
, whereas Grover’s Theatre was staging a brand-new show called
Aladdin
,
or the Wonderful Lamp
, and concluded
that Grover’s was the better bet. Enquiring within he found the theatre manager in discussion with a colleague; interrupting he enquired if they were intending to invite the President along.
The manager confirmed they were and then quickly turned to his assistant to remind him to send the invitation.

For Booth, the morning of 14 April commenced with him carefully dressing and then going for breakfast at the National Hotel. Wanting to look his best for what would be the most important day of
his life, Booth then went for a haircut before returning to his rooms where he met with Michael O’Laughlin. O’Laughlin, despite his southern sympathies, could not resist joining in the
merriment and arrived from Baltimore with the intention of joining the party. Booth attempted to re-engage him in the conspiracy but failed – O’Laughlin was too busy enjoying himself
and had more partying planned for that very evening.

After O’Laughlin left the hotel Booth set about organizing his own plans. He visited Ford’s Theatre which he used as a mailing address and was handed a bundle of letters by Henry
Clay Ford, brother of the theatre owner. During their brief discussion Ford told him that the President and Mrs Lincoln would be accompanied by General Grant to their theatre that very night.
Booth’s guesswork had been wrong – they would not be at the Grover Theatre as he thought and now he would need to change his plans rapidly.

Leaving the theatre he headed over to the livery stable where he kept the horse he had bought while in Maryland and instructed the liveryman to deliver the large, heavy horse to Ned Spangler who
would put it in the stables he had readied just behind Ford’s Theatre. His plan now was to allow Lewis Paine to use the horse as his getaway and so he now needed a horse of his own. It was
mid-afternoon when visited a stable on C Street, where he ordered the stable lad to make the horse available and ready to go by 4 p.m.

Booth next arrived at Mrs Surratt’s boarding house where he found her preparing to leave for a brief visit out of town with Louis Weichmann, her long-time lodger. Booth now fully
implicated Mrs Surratt by handing her a small package wrapped in coarse brown paper and tied with twine, which he requested she take with her and deliver to a man named John Lloyd at the
Surrattsville Tavern. The package would play a major part in Surratt’s life although she nearly set off without it and had to return to collect it, keeping Weichmann waiting in the carriage.
Weichmann was soon to find out what whispers had passed between Booth and John Surratt the first time they met, that it was not a property deal they were engaged in, but rather a murderous
conspiracy.

Booth next called on Lewis Paine whome he found lolling on his bed. Booth quickly brought Paine up to date with the plan, telling him he intended to shoot the President that very evening and
demanding that he take care of General Grant. Paine accepted the assignment with little emotion, shortly thereafter checking out of his hotel and heading out for something to eat.

Booth then unsuccessfully tried to track down George Atzerodt, leaving him a note, before heading back to Ford’s Theatre where he was seen by a number of people. It is thought that Booth
then reconnoitred the presidential theatre box. Making his way up to the mezzanine floor he would be able to see boxes six and seven, normally separated by a screen, but now enlarged to accommodate
the President’s party. As Booth made his way back out he came across a man who he had dealt with previously in respect of buying properties. When the man suggested they go for a drink in an
adjoining bar, Booth readily accepted.

At around 4.00 p.m. Booth collected his horse from the stable and had the liveryman shorten the stirrups for him before heading off towards Grover’s Theatre. Finding the manager’s
box empty Booth settled to write a letter to the
National Intelligencer
, a prominent Washington newspaper. In a surprising turn of events, as Booth was leaving the theatre he bumped into
John Mathews, one of the men he had visited in New York and who had turned him down in his quest to kidnap the President. He greeted Mathews cordially and the two spoke for a short while before
Booth asked if Mathews would kindly deliver his letter to the newspaper the following day, a task which on this occasion Mathews accepted. As Mathews was in the play at Ford’s Theatre that
night and would witness the events for himself at close quarters, no longer would he doubt the resolve of Booth to carry through his daring plan. Worse still, Mathews read the letter and in fear of
implicating himself in the plot burned it, not forewarning those who could have prevented the murder. Mathews would remain tight lipped about the letter for two years following the
assassination.

Booth took his own horse to the stable behind the theatre and then invited Spangler and two other theatre staff out for a drink, after which he bought them a bottle of whiskey which he asked
them to enjoy on him. He meanwhile went back into the pretty much deserted theatre and continued to make his plans. Taking a block of wood he approached a white door that led to the corridor
outside the presidential box. Practising a few times he was able to be sure that by jamming the wood between the door and the wall, the door would be secure from anyone trying to get in – the
President would therefore be unable to get assistance immediately after the attack. Once he was sure the door could be secured he hid the block of wood in a dark corner where it would go
unnoticed.

Happy that his plans were now in place Booth returned to the National Hotel where he enjoyed a light supper and a liqueur before returning to his room. Upstairs he changed his clothes and loaded
his pistol, a .44-calibre, single-shot Derringer, which though small, fired a lead ball nearly half an inch in diameter.