oned near
Washington frequently visited the city, a general order was in force
that none should be there without a special pass and all wearing
uniform and out at night were subject to frequent challenge. To avoid
this inconvenience officers stationed in Washington generally removed
all signs of their calling when off duty. I changed to civilian's
dress and hurried to Ford's Theatre, where I had been told President
Lincoln, General Grant, and Members of the Cabinet were to be present
to see the play, "Our American Cousin." I arrived late at the theatre,
8.15 p. m., and requested a seat in the orchestra, whence I could
view the occupants of the President's box, which on looking into the
theatre, I saw had been beautifully decorated with American flags in
honor of the occasion. As the building was crowded the last place
vacant was in the dress circle. I was greatly disappointed, but
accepted this seat, which was near the front on the same side and
about 40 feet from the President's box, and soon became interested in
the pleasing play.

Suddenly there was a cheering welcome, the acting ceased temporarily
out of respect to the entering Presidential party. Many in the
audience rose to their feet in enthusiasm and vociferously cheered,
while looking around. Turning, I saw in the aisle a few feet behind
me, President Lincoln, Mrs. Lincoln, Major Rathbone and Miss Harris.
Mrs. Lincoln smiled very happily in acknowledgment of the loyal
greeting, gracefully curtsied several times and seemed to be
overflowing with good cheer and thankfulness. I had the best
opportunity to distinctly see the full face of the President, as the
light shone directly upon him. After he had walked a few feet he
stopped for a moment, looked upon the people he loved and acknowledged
their salutations with a solemn bow. His face was perfectly stoical,
his deep set eyes gave him a pathetically sad appearance. The audience
seemed to be enthusiastically cheerful, but he alone looked peculiarly
sorrowful, as he slowly walked with bowed head and drooping shoulders
toward the box. I was looking at him as he took his last walk. The
memory of that scene has never been effaced. The party was preceded by
a special usher, who opened the door of the box, stood to one side,
and after all had entered closed the door and took a seat outside,
where he could guard the entrance to the box. The play was resumed and
my attention was concentrated on the stage until I heard a