assassin to take his life was no doubt due. The sergeant, as soon as he recovered his equilibrium, sprang upon Payne, and Major Seward, having been awakened by the screams of his sister, sprang into the room in his night-dress. Finding the sergeant grappling him in such a way as to hinder the effectiveness of his thrusts at the Secretary, and probably thinking that he had accomplished his purpose, he turned his attention toward making his escape. In disentangling himself from the grasp of the two men who now had hold of him, he gave to Major Seward several severe cuts about the head and face, crying all the time, "I am mad! I am mad!" Finally, pulling himself loose, he started to make his way to the street. Meeting a Mr. Emrick W. Hansel, another nurse, on the ? stairs, he made a thrust at him with his knife, inflicting an ugly wound. He now left the house, leaving five of its inmates. stabbed, cut, and bleeding behind him. Having reached the street, he deliberately threw his dagger away, mounted the horse. which he had hitched in front of the door, and rode off. Thus, for the time being, this inhuman monster passed from sight, having made good his retreat minus his dagger, hat, and revolver. He was not a moment too soon in withdrawing from the house. The colored porter, as soon as he saw the violence done to Frederick Seward at the head of the stairs, ran down and out into the street with the cry of "murder," and did not stop until he reached General Angur's headquarters, where he reported the occurrence and ran back immediately, accompanied by two or three soldiers. They reached the house just in time to see Payne mount his horse and ride away. He was followed some distance by the porter, who kept nearly up with him for some time, as he rode slowly at first, but he then mended his pace, and was soon out of sight. The soldiers, having no orders and not comprehending the situation, made no effort to stop him, although the colored boy who gave the alarm, and who preceded them, pointed him out to them as the man who had so ruthlessly broken the quiet of that house and produced such consternation amongst its peaceful inmates.

Although Payne rode away so leisurely at the start, he put his horse to the top of his speed as soon as he had fairly cleared the

streets and reached the suburbs of the city. About two hours later, a bay horse, saddled, and blind of an eye, came running up a by-road that led to Camp Barry, about three-fourths of a mile east of the capitol, and was there halted and taken charge of and placed in General Angur's stables. The horse, when found, bore marks of having been ridden at a furious rate. The sweat was streaming from every pore and dripping to the ground. This proved to be the bay horse that Booth had bought from Gardner, the neighbor of Dr. Mudd, in November, 1864, and which he sold to his co-conspirator, Arnold, in January, 1865, according to his own statement made some time before the assassination.

This was no doubt the horse ridden by Payne on that night. The most probable theory is, that being pushed and urged at a furious rate, and being blind of an eye, he stumbled and pitched headlong, throwing, and probably stunning, his rider, after which he regained his footing and made his escape before Payne had sufficiently recovered to get hold of him. The fact of his being a little lame when caught goes to sustain this theory. Thus was the would-be assassin prevented from joining his comrades, Booth and Herold, in their flight, and compelled to skulk and hide in the suburbs of the city for the next two days. He was without arms and hatless, and was compelled to throw away his overcoat "which was afterwards found" on account of the bloodstains on its sleeves. He knew that the alarm would spread rapidly throughout the vicinity, and in his present condition he dared not venture out through the country, so he was compelled to spend the time in hiding and skulking until he was forced from his retreat by hunger. Making

a covering for his head out of a sleeve from his under-shirt, which he drew over it like a turban, he shouldered a pick, which he had stolen from the trenches, and at near the hour of midnight on the 17th he entered the city. He went directly to the house of Mrs. Surratt, as the safest place he could find to rest, hide, and refresh himself, and obtain an outfit in which he might make his escape. Here he felt that he could trust the secret of his presence. Unfortunately for him, as well as for Mrs. Surratt, the government had by this time come into possession of such information as justified it in sending its military police to that house, with orders to arrest its inmates.

It had been discovered that the house of Mrs. Surratt had been the headquarters of the conspirators in Washington City. The officer in charge of the police, Major H. W. Smith, had reached the house but a short time before Payne arrived. Payne came with his turban on his head, and the pick on his shoulder, and rang the door-bell. Major Smith responded to the bell, and asked him to come in. Seeing the officer, he said he believed he was mistaken. in the house. Being asked whose house he sought, he replied, "Mrs. Surratt's." The officer replied, "This is the place," and drawing his revolver on him, ordered him to come in. Payne entered, and the officer closed the door. He then inquired who he was, and what he wanted. To these questions he replied that he was a poor man, and a laborer, and that Mrs. Surratt had sent for him to dig a drain for her. On being asked what brought him there at that time of night, he replied that he "merely called to see what time Mrs. Surratt wanted him to go to work in the morning." The officer saw that his hands bore no marks of labor, and at once suspected he had caged one of the conspirators. He placed him under arrest and took him along with the others in the house, to General Angur's head-quarters, where he was held for identification. William H. Bell, the colored boy who was second waiter at Mr. Seward's, being sent for, at once unhesitatingly identified him as the man who had produced such consternation in the house of Mr. Seward, on the night of the 14th, by his determined efforts to take the Secretary's life. Lewis Payne, having been thus captured and identified, and Mrs. Mary E. Surratt, were the first amongst the conspirators to be held for trial.

After the attack at Secretary Seward's, Dr. Verdi and two or three other surgeons were at once called to examine and treat the Secretary and the other victims of Payne's dagger. The house in which the onslaught was made had the appearance of a charnal house or slaughter-pen. The Secretary was found to have received three or four severe cuts about the face and neck, which were only made dangerous by the loss of blood they had occasioned and the weak condition of the patient.

The Secretary made a slow but good recovery. Of the other

four wounded men, the wounds of Mr. Frederick Seward proved the most serious, as his skull had been fractured and depressed, so as to render him unconscious, from which condition he was only recalled by a surgical operation.

All finally recovered. Here again we are called to notice the providences in the case, leading to the capture of Payne, and to the bringing on his head the just reward of his deeds.

CHAPTER IV.

THE NEWS COMMUNICATED TO THE WORLD, AND ITS EFFECT.

ON the morning of the 15th of April, 1865, the telegraph wires carried to every part of the United States that was in communication with Washington, and to the rest of the civilized world, the astounding intelligence that Abraham Lincoln, President of the United States, had been assassinated on the previous night by John Wilkes Booth, at Ford's Theatre in Washington City; that at the same hour a most savage attempt had been made to assassinate the Secretary of State, Hon. William H. Seward, and that he was lying in a most critical and dangerous condition from the wounds which he had received, and would probably die. Never, perhaps, in the history of the race were so many hearts bleeding, and so many eyes suffused with tears at one time, as on that sorrowful day. The nation was filled with grief, mingled with indignation and horror at the deed. The land was literally draped in mourning. Every city, and every town and village, displayed the sable habiliments of grief. The response came back to our people, in kind, from every civilized people on earth.

The writer was at the time a member of Grant's victorious army, and had large opportunities for witnessing the effects produced by the sad intelligence on the soldiery of our country. From the highest officers down to the rank and file of the army, sorrow and grief were depicted on every countenance. From Appomattox to Richmond the victorious army that had been filled with joyful and hopeful anticipations over its successes, and the prospect of the speedy dawn of peace, and of returning to their homes and friends and to the pursuits of peaceful life, after four years of arduous military service, was at once plunged into the deepest sadness and gloom. Strong men wept. It was as