Mr. Rivard fought through three years of the Civil War. Discharged from the Union army with the rank of lieutenant, he married and stayed in Washington for a honeymoon. On the night of April 14, 1865, he took his bride to Ford's Theater; there she would see Abraham Lincoln. The play was a comedy, Our American Cousin. Booth's pistol turned the occasion into tragedy.
On February 27, 1934, not long after telling Mr. Butler this story, Mr. Rivard died in Woodbine, New Jersey. He would have been one hundred on May 24.
My memory is not so good as it once was for recent happenings; but I can never forget the assassination of Abraham Lincoln.
I was only the width of the stage from him when he was shot. I do not believe that anybody actually saw the shot fired. If they did, why was not the alarm raised sooner? I was in a location to have seen as much of what went on in his box as anybody except his party and the actors on the stage; but I did not happen to be looking at the moment. Furthermore, an appreciable length of time elapsed between the report of the pistol and the cry, "The President has been shot!"
This cry came from his box, and even there no one noted Booth's presence until the shot rang out. Major Rathbone, who was the first to see Booth, probably did not realize that he had done more than shoot at the President. As Booth leaped from the box, the major merely cried, "Stop him! Stop that man!" and the actors and stage hands were so thunderstruck that they failed to do anything.
No one can say exactly how long it was from the time the shot was fired until Miss Harris of the President's party called out that he had been shot. But between those two happenings Booth had struggled with Major Rath-bone and stabbed him in the arm and had leaped to the stage, breaking one leg; he had then regained his feet and hobbled to the footlights to yell, "Sic semper tyrannis! The South is avenged!" and had managed to get away to the stage door and to mount his horse for flight.
Laura Keene, the actress, ran to the footlights and exclaimed, "For God's sake, keep your seats and everything wall be all right!" Miss Harris called for stimulants, and Miss Keene inquired what the trouble was. "The President has been shot!" was Miss Harris's answer. Naturally, all eyes had been on Booth, and this was the first, as I believe, that any one outside of the Presidential party knew of what had happened.
My bride and I had not gone to the theater merely to see Lincoln, but the fact that he was to be present had made me doubly proud to take her. I had bought seats in the box directly opposite the President's.
The first act was more than half through when he and his party came in. General Grant and his wife were to have accompanied the Lincolns, but in the afternoon the general had been called out of town. I have always felt that if Grant had been in the President's box that night the dreadful happening would have been avoided, as he was a restlessly active man and would probably have detected Booth's presence in time.
A big easy armchair had been provided for the President. I can see him and his party yet as they sat there. He laughed at the jokes and chatted with the others, and once he rose and put on his overcoat. It was a cold night and the theater was none too warm.
All was gayety and pleasure; nothing gave the slightest warning. Suddenly the shot rang out. Everybody at first, apparently, thought it a part of the play. When Miss Harris cried out what had happened, a woman screamed "Murder!" and then bedlam broke loose. Instantly the audience was changed into a howling, raging mob. Those too weak to buffet it were knocked down and trampled. We saw that we could do nothing, so we waited in the box until soldiers came in and restored order. Army surgeons in the audience made their way to the Presidential box, and Lincoln was then carried to a house across Tenth Street.
When we reached the street a vast crowd had gathered, and men with ropes and torches were yelling, "Kill the rebels! Burn the theater!" Undoubtedly they would have set fire to it but for drastic action by the military. All night long mobs roamed the streets, making such a disturbance that no one could have slept.
As it was, newspapers issued frequent editions throughout the night and everybody stayed up to hear reports of the President's condition. It was only after the announcement of his death, shortly after 7 A. M., that we undertook to get any rest.
Publication Date: May 19, 1934