Manhunt (17 page)

Stanton then turned to his second mission, launching an investigation that would ascertain what had happened at Ford's Theatre and the Seward house. He was determined to apprehend the criminals. He set up around his table a three-member court of inquiry—Judge Abram B. Olin, attorney Britten A. Hill, and chief justice of the D.C. courts David K. Cartter—to question witnesses. The secretary of war made it clear that he was in charge. Later, when Vice President Johnson arrived at the deathbed, he remained in the background and chose not to assert himself. In the days ahead the new president left it to Stanton to bring Lincoln's killer and his accomplices to justice.

Stanton had witnesses from Ford's Theatre dragooned and brought
before him. They spoke so fast that he recruited a legless Union army veteran who lived next door, James Tanner, to take it down in shorthand. One witness after another swore that it was Booth, John Wilkes Booth. Stanton barked orders by telegraph—his operators could wire news and orders all over the country—and soon telegraph lines across the nation were singing the same frequency: the president and the secretary of state have been assassinated. Messages went from the War Department to Baltimore, New York, and beyond. Search the trains. Guard the bridges. Watch for suspicious characters. Question witnesses. Identify suspects. Make arrests.

Stanton did not have time to write out every order and telegram personally on Petersen's round parlor table. Soon the command structure took over as his trusted subordinates issued a blizzard of instructions. All through the first hours of April 15, the telegraph wires carried messages between Washington and commanders in the field. At 12:20 A.M., General James A. Hardie sent an order to the U.S. Military Railroad at Alexandria: “It is reported that the assassin of the President has gone out hence to Alexandria, thence on the train to Fairfax. Stop all trains in that direction. Apply to military commander at Alexandria for guard to arrest all persons on train or on the road not known. By order of the Secretary of War.”

At Winchester, Virginia, General Stevenson received an urgent message about the trains: “Have any trains reached Harper's Ferry this morning? … [It] is possible that the assassins may endeavor to escape south through your lines at some point.” In a 1:00 A.M. telegram, Augur informed Major General Winfield Scott Hancock, commanding the Middle Military Division at Winchester, that he could spare no troops: “The President, Mr. Lincoln, was assassinated at Ford's Theatre … and is now dying. The Secretary of State, Mr. Seward, was also stabbed in his bed, and is not expected to recover. I shall not be able to send cavalry as you ordered, as I wish to use them scouring the countryside for the assassins.” Around the same time Augur ordered General Gamble, commanding at Fairfax Court House, to “at daylight take your cavalry
and scatter it along the river toward Leesburg to arrest and send in all suspicious persons; also along your whole line between it and Washington.”

a
T 1:10 A.M
., A
PRIL
15, S
TANTON SENT A HURRIED TELEGRAM
to John Kennedy, New York City's chief of police, asking him to rush detectives to Washington: “Send here immediately three or four of your best detectives to investigate the facts as to the assassination of the President and Secretary Seward. They are still alive, but the president's case is hopeless, and that of Mr. Seward's nearly the same.”

s
OMETIME BETWEEN MIDNIGHT AND 1:00 A.M
., G
EORGE
A
TZE
rodt arrived at the Pennsylvania House. James Walker, a black employee whose job it was to “make fires, carry water, and to wait on gentlemen that come in late and early,” greeted him. Atzerodt was on a horse again, and he told Walker to hold the animal while he went into the bar to drink. When he emerged from the bar he rode away but returned on foot around 2:00 A.M. He wanted a bed and asked for room 51, where he had stayed in the past. Walker and the innkeeper, John Greenawalt, told him that his old room was occupied—he'd have to stay in 53, a room with several beds that he would have to share with other occupants. As George headed to his room Greenawalt told him to come back:

“Atzerodt, you have not registered.”

“Do you want my name?” He was reluctant to sign the book.

“Certainly,” Greenawalt replied.

The innkeeper thought that the German behaved oddly. “He hesitated some, but stepped back and registered, and went to his room. He had never before hesitated to register his name.”

After Atzerodt had settled into his room, another guest, Lieutenant W. R. Keim, climbed into the bed opposite his. They had a passing acquaintance, having shared room 51 a week or ten days ago. Keim mentioned
the news: “I asked him if he had heard of the assassination of the President, and he said he had; that it was an awful affair.”

a
T
1:30 A
.M
., S
TANTON SENT A TELEGRAM TO
M
AJOR
G
ENERAL
John A. Dix in New York. It contained the first details of the assassination:

Soon the wires sang back with messages to Stanton from military commanders. We have received your news. We are obeying your orders. John Wilkes Booth could be heading anywhere: to Baltimore, the city where Lincoln was almost murdered in 1861, to his friends and old haunts there. To New York, disloyal capital of American commerce. Or farther north, to Canada, seat of operations for the Confederate Secret Service. Booth could be anywhere. The government would have to search for him everywhere. At 2:00 A.M., Major General Halleck, the army's chief of staff, telegraphed General W. W. Morris, commanding the District of Baltimore: “Attempts have been made to-night to assassinate the President and Secretary of State. Arrest all persons who leave Washington to-night on any road or by water, and hold them till further orders. In the meantime report as to each person arrested.” At 3:00 A.M., Stanton wrote out another telegram to General Morris from his post at the Petersen house: “Make immediate arrangements for guarding thoroughly every avenue leading into Baltimore, and if possible arrest J. Wilkes Booth, the murderer of Abraham Lincoln. You will acknowledge the receipt of this telegram, giving time, & c. Edwin M. Stanton, Secretary of War.” Before Major Eckert handed the order over to a messenger to run over to the War Department telegraph office, he added a quick postscript in his own hand, addressed to the operators: “Bates, Stewart, or Maynard: Rush this through and order the immediate delivery.” Despite Eckert's demand, it took fifty-five minutes for the message
to travel from Stanton's table in the back parlor at the Petersen house into Morris's hands in Baltimore. He wrote his response at 4:15 A.M.: “Your dispatch received. The most vigourous measures will be taken. Every avenue is guarded. No trains or boats will be permitted to leave.”

From Baltimore, Provost Marshal James L. McPhail sent an order to B. B. Hough at Saint Inigoes, Maryland: “The President is murdered: Mr. Seward and son nearly so. One of the murderers, J. Wilkes Booth, actor, played at Holliday Street a year ago. Twenty-five years old, five feet eight inches high, dark hair and mustache. He took the direction from Washington toward Saint Mary's and Calvert Counties. Use all attempts to secure him.”

Back in Washington, General Halleck, perhaps overly optimistic, made plans to imprison the assassins. In Halleck's defense, if Booth was captured, the army would have to sequester him carefully to protect him from Lincoln's avengers—rampaging mobs of vigilantes who might storm the Old Capitol prison—should they discover that the assassin was jailed there. It was too risky to imprison Booth anywhere on land. Halleck issued an order to General Augur: “Should either of the assassins of last night be caught put them in double irons and convey them, under a strong escort, to the commander of the navy-yard, who has orders to receive them and to confine them on a monitor to be anchored in the stream.” A watery moat would protect Booth from the angry citizens of Washington.

Water was the secretary of the navy's element, so Gideon Welles issued instructions personally to Commodore J. B. Montgomery at the Navy Yard: “If the military authorities arrest the murderer of the President and take him to the yard, put him on a monitor and anchor her in the stream, with strong guard on vessel, wharf, and in yard. Call upon commandant of Marine Corps for guard. Have vessel immediately prepared to receive him at any hour, day or night, with necessary instructions. He will be heavily ironed and so guarded as to prevent escape or injury to himself.” Welles could hardly allow Booth to commit suicide aboard one of his ships. Just to be sure, Welles also sent an order to
Colonel Zeilin, commandant of the Marine Corps: “Have extra strong and careful guard ready for special service, if called for.” The army, the navy, and the marine corps were ready. Now all they had to do was catch John Wilkes Booth, Lewis Powell, John H. Surratt, David Herold, and George Atzerodt.

Halleck telegrammed Major General Ord in Richmond: “Attempts have been made to-night to assassinate the President and Secretary of State. Arrest all persons who may enter your lines by water or land.” Late that day General Grant, now back in Washington, sent Ord a telegram ordering him to arrest all paroled Confederate officers and surgeons. “Extreme rigor,” Grant warned, “will have to be observed whilst assassination remains the order of the day with the rebels.”

Arrest everyone? a skeptical Ord wired back to Grant—even General Lee and his staff? That would be dangerous and unwise, Ord cautioned, and might incite a violent uprising in the former Confederate capital if rebel soldiers and the local citizenry feared that their hero Robert E. Lee was in danger: “Should I arrest them under the circumstances,” Ord continued, “I think the rebellion here would be reopened.” Grant relented: “On reflection I withdraw my dispatch.”

T
HE DOCTORS CONTINUED THEIR USELESS MINISTRATIONS TO
the dying president. They probed the wound with their bare, unsanitary fingers, sticking their pinkies inside Lincoln's brain. They deployed the Nelaton probe to locate the bullet for possible extraction, as if that would have helped Lincoln. They poured a little brandy into their patient's mouth to see if he could retain and swallow it. That unnecessary experiment sent Lincoln into a spasm of coughing that almost choked him to death. Eventually the assembled physicians gave up their tinkering and contented themselves to observe, monitoring Lincoln's vital signs. Dr. Ezra Abbott, one of a dozen physicians who rushed to Lincoln's deathbed, took notes on his pulse and respiration.

An emotional Dr. Leale held the president's hand: “Knowledge that
frequently just before departure recognition and reason return to those who have been unconscious, caused me for several hours to hold the president's right hand firmly within my grasp, to let him in his blindness know, if possible, that he was in touch with humanity and had a friend.”

W
HILE
L
INCOLN YET LIVED, THE MANHUNT BEGAN
. S
OLDIERS
and detectives rushed to Booth's room, number 228, at the National Hotel. Of course Booth was gone, but they searched
his trunk and discovered an incredible and mysterious letter signed only “Sam” that pointed to a large conspiracy against the government.

Several blocks from the National, just a few hours after the assassination, a raiding party showed up at Mary Surratt's boardinghouse. In the bedlam in the streets outside Ford's Theatre and the Petersen house, one or more anonymous tipsters reported that John Wilkes Booth and John H. Surratt Jr. were intimates, and that Mrs. Surratt's boardinghouse was just a few blocks away. Louis J. Weichmann, a boarder and school friend of John Surratt, was the first to respond to the patrol's arrival.

“I heard the front door bell ring very violently.” Weichmann pulled on a pair of pants and went to the front door. Without opening the door, he spoke to the caller on the other side.

“Who is there?”