The Day Lincoln Was Shot: An Hour-by-Hour Account of What Really Happened on April 14th, 1865
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The Day Lincoln Was Shot is a gripping, minute-by-minute account of April 14, 1865: the day President Abraham Lincoln was tragically assassinated.
It chronicles the movements of Lincoln and his assassin John Wilkes Booth during every movement of that fateful day. Author and journalist Jim Bishop has fashioned an unforgettable tale of tragedy, more gripping than fiction, more alive than any newspaper account.
First published in 1955, The Day Lincoln Was Shot was a huge bestseller, and in 1998 it was made into a TNT movie, with Rob Morrow as Booth.
William, 240, 253 Petersen House, 281, 282, 302 Lincoln vigil at, 240–41, 259–62, 286–87, 296–97, 315–16, 322, 324, 327–28 Phillips, Harry B., 160, 266 Phillips, Wendell, 114 Pierpont, Francis Harrison, 136 Poetry of the Bible, The (Stanton), 13 Porter, David Dixon, 32, 44–45 Porter, Horace, 60, 61, 131, 161 Port Tobacco, 67, 75, 79, 80, 90, 92, 188, 278, 319–20 conspirators’ escape and, 211, 264, 280–81, 308 Powell, Lewis, see Paine, Lewis Rathbone, Henry R., 194, 212–15, 217, 230,
would be infinitely more difficult to get two persons into that box tonight than one; and it would be more than twice as hard to get two people out of that theater, than one. Besides, if Paine assassinated Grant, and Booth failed to kill Lincoln, the actor would be a fool in history. His theatrical sense warned him not to share billing with anyone. He would do it himself—Lincoln with the gun; Grant with the knife. Mrs. Surratt and Miss Honora Fitzpatrick left the boardinghouse and walked over to
himself for not remaining at his side. Ford’s Theatre opened. The sun was setting at 6:45 and Peanut John came out front and lit the big opaque gas globe in front of the main entrance. A small, steady line of people stood before the box office. The ushers were dusting the gas globes around the walls inside the theater and Spangler, Maddox and Ritterspaugh sat out on the stone step in back, each pleasant in the glow of whiskey and each wondering if Booth would come back later and buy some more.
of a force of fifty men, four had been picked for this duty; two others had been selected as substitutes on days off. Of the forty patrolmen who might have pulled White House duty, many of the older men did not want it and, by seniority, managed to evade it. Of the younger ones, a few aspired to this assignment because it was known that the President, or Mrs. Lincoln, would keep such men from being drafted for army duty. Three of the guards (Crook, Alexander and Parker) had asked for such
seemed confused by all the noise. He walked toward Paine blindly. The assassin permitted him to come close, then raised his knife and plunged it into the stranger’s chest up to the hilt. Mr. Hansell, State Department messenger, fell without uttering a word. Paine hurried downstairs and out into the street. He looked for Herold, and found that he had been deserted. He untied his horse, mounted, and, mopping his face, turned north toward H Street. He walked the horse and William Bell, seeing him,