The Mammoth Book of Celebrity Murders (8 page)

Stanton, himself once an able attorney, was intent upon pursuing a military trial for the prisoners. The military justice system was not so constrained by the burden of proof, so guilt was more
easily established, and once established the penalties were often more severe. Stanton was convinced that the need for swift and strong punishment was vital if Booth’s action were not to
ignite an uprising in the South.

Andrew Johnson as the new President was, however, uneasy about the legality of the prisoners undergoing a military trial and sought the opinion of the Attorney General, James Speed. Speed
believed that if the prisoners had committed a crime against the United States then they must face a military court. Also, because he believed they may have broken the laws of war, they would not
be allowed to face a civil court. With this news the President asked that nine competent officers form a commission with a view to trying the defendants.

The commission was ostensibly made up of friends and colleagues of Stanton, many of whom would be criticized during the trial for showing favouritism to the prosecution. Not only was the
commission deemed to be biased – all had Republican sympathies – but the commission itself was allowed to formulate its own rules and procedures. And unlike a normal court of law, the
commission would be allowed to convict with a two-thirds majority, rather than the unanimous decision normally required to secure a conviction.

Stanton asked the acting Adjutant General, Edward D. Townsend, to select the officers for the tribunal, all of who were committed Republicans. Appointed to the role of President of the
commission was 62-year-old Major General David Hunter, a personal friend of Lincoln’s before his death. As Judge Advocate for the trial Stanton chose another old friend, Brigadier General
Joseph Holt, who headed the War Department’s Bureau of Military Justice. Holt had been given the role of Judge Advocate General of the Army by Lincoln and in this capacity had set up many
military commissions to prosecute political prisoners accused of disloyal practices, a procedure that had been criticized widely as despotic and unconstitutional. Finally to assist Holt, Stanton
selected another long-time friend, Ohio’s John A. Bingham, a radical member of Congress who was a hellfire-and-brimstone lawyer; and Colonel Henry L. Burnett, an army prosecutor who had
successfully won the death penalty in a number of Western military trials.

Against this backdrop the defendants arrived in court on 9 May 1865, shuffling in one after the other, under strict armed guard. One by one they took their positions on a foot high platform,
behind a wooden rail at the front of the guardhouse. Each sat looking glum: Sam Arnold, Lewis Paine, David Herold, Edman Spangler, Michael O’Laughlin, George Atzerodt, Dr Samuel Mudd and Mary
Surratt, their hoods specially removed for the court appearance. The first day in court was a short one and the trial was adjourned as the accused had not yet been allowed to seek a defence
council. On the second day, still without representation, the commission read out the charges and noted the not guilty pleas given by each prisoner.

The spectators’ gallery was full and the courthouse was surrounded by members of the public and the press; the interest in the trial was immense, and in the outcome, already believed to be
a foregone conclusion, even stronger.

During the opening phases of the trial other conspirators were caught and found themselves in strange predicaments. Jefferson Davis was caught near Irwinville, Georgia and a day later, Clement
Clay gave himself in to Federal authorities. Both were imprisoned in Fort Monroe, Virginia, during which time the court in Washington progressed as if they too had been charged and were there to
present a defence.

The trial was soon adjourned again as friends and family members fought to find legal representation for those imprisoned, a task which proved daunting as no one seemed willing to defend a bunch
so publicly despised. By 12 May, all of the defendants had retained a defence council, many of whom were of an unusually high calibre. They were however expected to perform their duties under the
most onerous of conditions – they were not for instance allowed to talk to their clients in the privacy of their cells, and the only communication allowed was in the full glare of the
courtroom.

As one of the lawyers later stated, “This was a contest in which a few lawyers were on one side and the whole of the United States was on the other, the verdict was known
beforehand.”

In another procedural restriction the prosecution were able to produce 198 prosecution witnesses, many of whom came and went without the opportunity of a cross examination. The defence on the
other hand had to inform the Judge in advance of any witness who was to be called for the defence. The prosecution frequently called surprise witnesses who would add more fuel to the Confederate
conspiracy theory and then disappear.

The prosecution lawyers fought with an intensity that would shock a modern practitioner of the law – from the moment the trial commenced not only were the accused under attack but also the
defence lawyers.

The outcome for the most part seemed inevitable, certainly for three of them. Paine had been identified as the man who attacked Seward, Atzerodt had been identified as acting suspiciously in
Vice President Johnson’s hotel and David Herold had been caught on the run with Booth. The defences presented on behalf of these men were at best long shots. Paine’s lawyers suggested
he was insane, although an expert witness called by the defence suggested otherwise. Atzerodt’s defence was based on the fact that he did not commit a crime and was therefore portrayed as
someone who couldn’t actually kill. Herold was described as being too simple minded to know what he was doing.

The case against Ned Spangler was weak and ultimately hung on the statement of Jacob Ritterspaugh, the Ford’s Theatre stage hand who claimed he was struck by Spangler shortly after Booth
made his escape. Ritterspaugh claimed Spangler had instructed him not to tell anyone the direction in which Booth had gone.

Sam Arnold and Michael O’Laughlin’s cases were more complex – they had been involved with Booth on the original kidnap plot but had not been involved in the assassination.
Under the rules, these two men were on trial for involvement in the assassination and so their previous involvement should not have counted against them. As they could prove they had not been
involved in the assassination they should have been safe from conviction, however, the government lawyers were more inclined to prove that both men had served in the Confederate Army and therefore
would want to harm members of the US government.

Samuel Mudd’s case was the most time consuming as he was able to produce 79 defence witnesses against the prosecution’s 23. He was however shown to have had links with Booth in the
past, to have fixed his leg after the assassination and to have held views sympathetic to the Confederate South.

The trial was a showpiece of its day; as such tickets to the daily drama were much in demand and the courtroom looked on most days to be the meeting hall of the rich, famous and the well
connected. Each attendee would examine each of the accused in turn, looking for signs of guilt or repentance.

All of the defendants looked like frightened rabbits, except for Lewis Paine who for the most part looked bored and disinterested, at one point admitting his attack on Seward and demanding they
hang him quickly and get it over with.

At the end of the row of prisoners sat Mrs Surratt, a veil over her face and dressed entirely in black. To make their case against Surratt the government called nine witnesses, the main two
being Surratt’s lodger, Louis Weichmann and the Surrattsville tavern keeper, John Lloyd. Both men had been threatened by government interrogators and were talking to save their own skins.
Weichmann had been summoned by Stanton who apologetically seemed to imply that he would have to put the terrified man under lock and key. John Lloyd had even more reason to be scared – he had
hidden the weapons given to him by John Surratt, thus involving himself even more deeply than some of the defendants. And so each man, terrified of doing otherwise, took their places on the witness
stand, in the courtroom of the old penitentiary.

The defence council put up a brave defence but the harm was already done – when John Bingham put forth his closing statements he effectively put the rope round Mrs Surratt’s neck. He
accused Surratt of being as guilty as her son, encouraging him to commit an act of treachery against his country.

On 29 June, with these words still ringing in their ears, the nine officers of the court retired to consider their verdicts against all of the accused. The verdicts were quickly reached, with
all but one being found guilty of treasonable conspiracy. Ned Spangler was found guilty of the lesser crime of aiding and abetting Booth in his bid to escape.

After the verdicts the court then dispensed the sentences. Spangler was given six years hard labour. Dr Mudd, Arnold and O’Laughlin were given life sentences, though Mudd only avoided the
death penalty by one vote. The rest received the death penalty, including Mrs Surratt, although in her case five members of the commission signed a recommendation to President Johnson suggesting
her sentence be commuted to life imprisonment on the grounds of her age and sex; sadly this never came to pass. The President approved the death penalty in each case and the date of execution was
set for 7 July, although two years later when John Surratt was captured Johnson would claim that he never saw the document asking for clemency for Mrs Surratt and recalled the great reluctance he
felt at agreeing to her death. Although Holt continued to maintain that the President had discussed the clemency plea but had refused it, the mystery was never resolved.

The procedures dictated that the accused should not know their fate until the day before the sentences were due to be carried out. Thus on 6 July the prisoners were told of their impending
executions on the scaffold. Hours later Mrs Surratt’s shocked lawyers heard the news only when they heard a young newsboy shouting out the headlines. In another twist, an opportunity to save
Mrs Surratt arrived when Anna Surratt visited the White House in the hope of securing her mother’s release. Hoping to see the President she was referred instead to Joseph Holt who turned her
away.

At 1.15 p.m. on 7 July, a small crowd gathered in the courtyard outside the Washington Arsenal; it was a blisteringly warm day. Through a small doorway the condemned foursome marched toward the
scaffold, soldiers on either side of them, Mrs Surratt at times looking like she might faint. To add a sense of reality to the occasion the group walked past their own freshly dug graves, each with
a pine coffin beside it before climbing onto the scaffold. In contrast to the harsh realities of the day’s proceedings, chairs had been provided for the prisoners’ comfort.

Even at this late stage, General Hancock, who was in overall charge of the proceedings, had expected a reprieve to be given for Mrs Surratt, and had made sure his cavalrymen were ready to pass
the instruction through to him rapidly when it came. The hangman, Christian Rath, who would tie the customary seven knots in the women’s noose, had tied only five, saving himself time when
the fully expected reprieve came through.

But the reprieve never did come through and the instruction was given to proceed with the planned executions. Each person in turn had their hands tied behind their backs before a white hood was
placed over their heads. David Herold trembled violently as more restraints were tied around his legs. George Atzerodt managed a few brave last words, “Goodbye gentlemen, I hope we meet on
the other side.” Paine, the bravest of them all, seemed prepared for his own death. Standing tall he said, “Mrs Surratt is innocent. She doesn’t deserve to die with the rest of
us.” The hangman fully agreed, respecting Paine’s last-ditch attempt to save her. Putting the noose around the big man’s neck himself, he then muttered, “I want this man to
die quick.” Paine calmly responded, “You know best.”

Just before 2 p.m., General Hancock clapped his hands three times, whereupon soldiers knocked away the supports for the platform on which the prisoners stood. As the platform swung down their
bodies fell and were soon hanging in the bright afternoon sunshine. Justice, driven by anger and vengeance, had been done, and through the press was seen to be done, although much controversy raged
over the validity of the trials and of Holt’s claim that the President had wholeheartedly agreed to Mrs Surratt’s sentence.

Two years later, after being on the run in Italy and Egypt, Surratt was caught and returned to the United States where he faced the same charges as those who had gone before him. This time,
though, Surratt was tried in a civil court and when the jurors couldn’t agree on a verdict the case was dismissed and Surratt walked away a free man.

Like many other controversial events which have taken place, the assassination of Lincoln generated its fair share of conspiracy theories. Just as the demise of JFK gave way to the rise of
Lyndon B. Johnson, the demise of Lincoln allowed Andrew Johnson to ascend and this created the suspicion that Booth and Johnson had somehow conspired together. Booth had been at Johnson’s
hotel earlier in the evening, although most people believe he was there to check on Atzerodt. Others have put forward the notion that Lincoln was the subject of a Confederate plot, designed to
destabilise the Union and inspire another uprising. This idea is not without merit and to some extent is what Booth was hoping to achieve, although there is no evidence to support an organized
Confederate plan involving leaders from the South. Even Edwin Stanton, the man who appeared to organize the manhunt for Booth, has come under suspicion. It was thought that Stanton wanted Lincoln
out so that he could pursue a more radical policy of reconstruction after the war. It is also suggested that it was Stanton who ordered General Grant not to visit the theatre on the night Lincoln
was murdered. Grant’s absence therefore left Lincoln vulnerable to attack as it is thought that Grant’s guards would never have allowed Booth to enter the theatre box. Again though
there is nothing concrete to support this hypothesis.