Transcription
Abraham Lincoln is reading his presidential mail. Some come from congressmen, others from generals, but this one is different.
"If you attempt to abolish slavery in Maryland, you will be murdered."
Lincoln smiles and crumples the paper. He's had over 10,000 death threats since his election. But the real danger isn't in any of these. It's later tonight.
A man pushes through the door of Ford's Theater. He's a celebrity. John Wilkes Booth, one of America's most famous actors. For months, Booth has raged at Lincoln's speeches. Calls to free the slaves, demands for equality, and the right to vote. But today, something feels off.
"What's going on up there?" Booth demands.
"We have a special guest tonight," replies the stage hand. Booth freezes. The decorations confirm it. There's only one man it could be. To him, Lincoln isn't saving the country. He's destroying it. His own family voting for him is proof. Twice.
Booth has tried to kidnap the president, only for both attempts to fail. But the stars have aligned. He knows every corner of Ford's Theater. He's worked here many times. The president will be located in boxes seven and eight. Despite this knowledge, killing him won't be easy.
Booth's hatred stretches far beyond Lincoln. The president is one part of a much bigger plan.
"Mr. President, it's time," says a messenger. The Civil War between Lincoln's Union and the Confederacy has raged for four years. The South fights for independence from the US government. They believe slavery is essential to the economy and wanted to remain, sparking bloody battles across the country. Lincoln is now winning and the war nears its end, but the nation remains deeply divided.
"I want to peacefully welcome the Confederate States back into the Union," Lincoln says.
Secretary of War Edwin Stanton disagrees. "They should be tried, Mr. President. Every last one of them."
Lincoln shakes his head. "We need unity, not vengeance." The president is working towards peace. He wants to reconcile with the enemy rather than punish them. But this vision of peace is enraging many people, including one famous actor.
The meeting ends, leaving Lincoln and his commanding general, Ulysses S. Grant. "I have bad news, Mr. President. I won't be joining you at Ford's Theater this evening. I'm needed in New Jersey."
Lincoln nods, though Grant's absence weighs on him. Together, they are a signal of strength for the Union.
Lincoln crosses the hall for lunch. The dream he had three nights ago is still playing on his mind. He was wandering through the White House at night. It was strangely quiet. Suddenly, he heard something. Weeping sounds, as if someone was mourning. He followed the crying until he stumbled into the East Room where he found a sickening surprise. Mourners gazing at a body covered with a blanket.
"Who is dead in the White House?" he asked. The answer came. "The president, who was killed by an assassin."
Back in the present, Lincoln greets his driver and footmen. Men he's known and trusted for years. Both look out for him and his family's safety. Like most presidents during this time, protection is limited, with only one or two bodyguards following Lincoln each day. Crook had been a police officer before joining the White House. The best on Lincoln's detail. Having completed a double shift, he won't be present tonight.
Crook leans in. "Sir, don't go to the theater. It's not safe."
Booth strides toward Pumpfrey Stable, mind racing. There is no time to waste. If he wants to be successful, he will need to plan ahead of time.
"Give me a row. I will pay now," he says impatiently. The horse will wait behind the theater, crucial for his escape. But word of Lincoln's death will spread fast. He'll ride south through Navy Yard, then through southern Maryland into Virginia, ultimately seeking refuge in the Confederacy. Tonight's mission is bigger than Lincoln, bigger than war. The goal is to collapse the Union. Nothing will stand in Booth's way.
The easiest step is complete, but the second is much riskier. Modify Lincoln's box so he can easily get in, then kill Lincoln without anyone noticing.
Booth rides to the theater. Nothing has gone wrong yet.
"Well, General, what's the news?" Lincoln asks.
Booth leads his mare into the alley behind Ford's Theater and walks in the back door. But there's one problem. The theater is alive. Rehearsals, stage hands, musicians, all walking around. If Booth is caught modifying Lincoln's box, the entire plan collapses. He waits for two stage hands to leave, then climbs the steps. He sees the location where Lincoln's security will stand. Booth has an idea to slip past him. But like his previous attempts, plans don't always go as expected.
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He pulls out a gimlet from his coat and quietly drills a spy hole into the entry door of box 8. Big enough to see inside, but small enough to go unnoticed. He lights a match and picks up the wood shavings. If any evidence is discovered, the plan shatters immediately. Suddenly, Booth hears voices coming from the stairs. He hides behind the door and waits, his fists clenched. One of the stage hands is walking towards him. There is nowhere to hide. The footsteps get closer to the box. Booth's heart starts to pound.
5... 4... 3... 2...
The door starts to open. "But then I found it. Your hat is here on the seat." The footsteps fade. Booth exhales. That was too close.
Now for something that might expose his whole plan. He places a wooden leg in the corner of the room. This will be essential for the assassination to go smoothly. Then he notices it. The lock to Lincoln's box is already broken. Perfect. He sees the chair and imagines the shot. But he needs a murder weapon. Something powerful enough to kill Lincoln, although small enough to go unnoticed.
Booth exits the theater feeling good. Everything is going to plan, though his presence hasn't gone unnoticed. He rides back to the National Hotel where he's staying. The box has been set up. The only thing left is to kill Lincoln.
Lincoln senses the risks. His dreams still weigh on his mind. But one thing compels him to go. "The newspaper has already promised my attendance. Goodbye, Crook." Strange. Usually, the president says goodnight.
Lincoln's carriage pulls away from the executive mansion. His bodyguard, John Frederick Parker, stays close, though he is not a regular on the president's detail. Abraham Lincoln sits with his wife, Mary Todd. Tomorrow is another busy day. Tonight is a chance to relax.
They arrive at the theater. Lincoln strokes his horse. "I won't be long," he says. He enters Ford's Theater where the play has already begun. Inside is an audience of 1700 people. Lincoln walks into the presidential box. The audience gasps, then applause. The room fills with whispers and murmurs. There's a sense of occasion in the air as the orchestra plays "Hail to the Chief."
"Please let the play continue." He sits down, unaware of the modifications that have taken place.
He enters Mary Surratt's boarding house. Upstairs, two men wait. Lewis Powell is assigned to kill the Secretary of State. George Atzerodt is supposed to go after the vice president. Booth lays out his plan. "I will use my fame to swindle my way inside the box. If that fails, I will change to plan B."
"The Deringer from my personal collection, loaded with a 1 and 1/2 inch ball, will give the final blow, and this will be my backup."
Booth cuts through the streets and turns into the alley behind Ford's Theater. But something is wrong. He clutches his chest. He feels the world closing in on him. The plan is perfect, but it's fragile. He's banking on one specific moment. If he doesn't reach Lincoln's box in time, his entire cover is blown. If that happens, the chances of success become even slimmer.
Booth meets the stage hand supposed to hold his horse. "Are you all right?"
"I will wait out here for you."
"Yeah. Yeah."
Booth slips through the back door like he's done a hundred times before. Inside, the crew moves props. Booth passes them like it's any other night. But he's not here to perform. He's here to listen. Track the lines of the play. He walks slowly, close to the curtain. Adrenaline kicking in. Lincoln is sitting in his box, laughing, oblivious to what's about to come. Booth puts one hand over his pistol, his finger twitching. The gun is ready, but is he? The past two attempts failed due to Lincoln's last-minute changes in schedule, but this time will be different, he thinks.
From the play's lines, Booth notes he still has about 30 minutes. Booth recognizes Lincoln's guest. His heart beats faster. The time has not come yet. Waiting here will only increase his nerves. He steps out through a side door and heads to the Star Saloon.
Back inside Ford's Theater, the play continues. President Lincoln laughs and looks towards his guests. 28-year-old Army Major Henry Rathbone and his fiancée, Clara Harris. He walks fast and pushes through the door, taking a seat at the bar.
"Whiskey, not brandy." Booth tries to remain confident, but doubts are creeping in. Tonight, his usual order is not strong enough. Being searched, facing the president's bodyguard, and making a successful escape feels too uncertain. He takes a deep breath and glances around the room. At the bar is Francis Burke, Lincoln's driver. He's with one other man, but Booth can't recognize him. He drinks beside the very men loyal to his target.
"Then you'll never be the actor your father was," a random man blares. Booth doesn't flinch. He just smirks. "When I leave the stage, I'll be the most famous man in America." He downs the whiskey and walks out. His time is now.
Booth walks to Ford's Theater. Inside, the play is moving toward its final act. He must get to Lincoln's box in time for the joke. If he arrives too late, the opportunity will be lost forever. Booth enters through the main doors. The ticket taker greets him. He moves quickly up the stairs. Amongst the crowd are a handful of armed soldiers, but Booth doesn't notice them. Every second is life or death.
Booth reaches the top of the stairs. Ahead of him is the door to the state box. Next to it is a man sitting. It's Lincoln's footman, unarmed. The bodyguard is probably inside. Booth doesn't want to kill another person, but he can't allow anyone to get in his way. He approaches Forbes and takes out a calling card. His heart starts to pound. There's only a few minutes left until he must strike.
Forbes stares at it, eyeing every detail. He looks back up at Booth, eyes narrowing. "Ah, John Wilkes Booth. The president is fond of your place. Please go ahead."
No turning back now. He clutches the knife on his waist, ready for Lincoln's bodyguard, but the room is empty. Maybe he's with Lincoln. He grabs the wooden leg he planted earlier and jams it in place, wedging the door so nobody can get in. He looks inside the box through the spy hole. Lincoln is right there.
On stage, the actor says a line. "Don't know the manners of good society, eh?" Next will be the joke he has been waiting for. He turns the knob and steps inside. President's bodyguard is not here.
"Well, I guess I know enough to turn you inside out, you sock-dolaging old man trap!" The crowd erupts. Booth raises the pistol, hovering it behind Lincoln's left ear. He fires. Lincoln's head drops full. Mary Todd turns confused. The crowd keeps laughing. They think it's a part of the show. Rathbone sees Lincoln's head bleeding and attacks. Booth plunges his knife into Rathbone's arm, deep to the bone. He moves to the edge of the box and jumps. His boot catches a flag, twisting him midair. Booth slams into the stage. His leg breaks, but he stands and yells, "Sic semper tyrannis!"
In the box, Rathbone shouts, "Stop that man!"
Booth dashes behind the stage. A man grabs him. Booth takes his knife and drives it into him. The man's grip releases. Booth continues running towards the back entrance. He exits and screams, "Give me the horse!" The stage hand freezes in shock. Booth knocks him over, jumps on the horse, and disappears into the night.
In the chaos that followed, Abraham Lincoln was carried across the street to a boarding house where he lay deep in a coma. The person meant to protect the president that night was the man getting drunk inside the saloon with Lincoln's driver. The other conspirators were quickly captured and brought to justice. Lewis Powell stabbed the Secretary of State, but Seward survived. George Atzerodt decided to calm his nerves at a bar and ended up getting too drunk.
The president clung to life through the night. But at 7:22 a.m. on April 15th, Abraham Lincoln died, and the hunt for Booth began. Edwin Stanton, the man Lincoln was debating with earlier that day, starts the largest manhunt in American history. Booth fled to Virginia. His escape lasted 12 days. On April 26th, Union soldiers surrounded him in a barn. They told him to surrender, but he refused. He was shot and killed on the spot.