he folds of her gown. Payne, the would-be assassin of
Seward, was a powerful-looking man, with a face that showed him ready
for anything; but the other two conspirators were such simple-minded,
mild-looking youths, that it seemed hardly possible they could have
been active agents in such a crime, or capable of any proceeding
requiring physical or mental force.

The impression which I gained at the time from the evidence and
all the circumstances, was that the purpose of the original plot
was not the assassination of the President, but his abduction and
transportation to Richmond or some other point within the Confederate
lines. While Booth himself may have meditated assassination from the
beginning, it does not seem likely that he made this purpose known
to his fellows until they were ready to act. Then Payne alone had
the courage to attempt the execution of the programme.

Two facts show that a military court, sitting under such
circumstances, must not be expected to reach exactly the verdict that
a jury would after the public excitement had died away. Among the
prisoners was the man whose business it was to assist in arranging the
scenery on the stage of the theatre where the assassination occurred.
The only evidence against him was that he had not taken advantage
of his opportunity to arrest Booth as the latter was leaving,
and for this he was sentenced to twenty years penal servitude.
He was pardoned out before a great while.

The other circumstance was the arrest of Surratt, who was supposed
to stand next to Booth in the conspiracy, but who escaped from the
country and was not discovered until a year or so later, when he
was found to have enlisted in the papal guards at Rome. He was
brought home and tried twice. On the first trial, notwithstanding
the adverse rulings and charge of the judge, only a minority of
the jury were convinced of his guilt. On the second trial he was,
I think, acquitted.

One aftermath of the civil war was the influx of crowds of the
newly freed slaves to Washington, in search of food and shelter.
With a little training they made fair servants if only their pilfering
propensities could be restrained. But religious fervor did not ensure
obedience to the eighth commandment. "The good Lord ain't goin'
to be hard on a poor darky just for takin' a chicken now and then,"
said a wench to a preacher who had asked her how she could reconcile
her religion with her indifference as to the