There is a scene in the play representing the modern parlor, in which two unprecedented English ladies are informed by the unprecedented and impossible Yankee that he is not a man of fortune, and therefore undesirable for marriage catching purposes; after which, the comments being finished, the dramatic trio make exit, leaving the stage clear for a moment. There was a pause, a hush, as it were. At this period came the murder of Abraham Lincoln. Great as that was, with all its manifold train circling around it, and stretching into the future for many a century, in the politics, history, art, etc., of the New World, in point of fact, the main thing, the actual murder, transpired with the quiet and simplicity of any commonest occurrence—the bursting of a bud or pod in the growth of vegetation, for instance. Through the general hum following the stage pause, with the change of positions, etc., came the muffled sound of a pistol shot, which not one-hundredth part of the audience heard at the time—and yet a moment's hush—somehow, surely a vague, startled thrill-and then, through the ornamented, draperied, starred, and striped space-way of the President's box, a sudden figure, a man, raises himself with hands and feet, stands a moment on the railing, leaps below to the stage (a distance of perhaps of 14 or 15 feet), falls out of position catching his boot-heel in the copious drapery (the American flag), falls on one knee, quickly recovers himself, rises as if nothing had happened (he really sprains his ankle, but unfelt then)-and the figure, Booth, the murderer, dressed in plain black broadcloth, bare-headed, with a full head of glossy, raven hair, and his eyes, like some mad animal's flashing with light and resolution, yet with a certain strange calmness, holds aloft in one hand a large knife-walks along not much back of the foot-lights -turns fully towards the audience his face of statuesque beauty, lit by those basilisk eyes, flashing with desperation, perhaps insanity-launches out in a firm and steady voice the words Sic Semper Tyrannis--and then walks with neither slow nor very rapid pace diagonally across to the back of the stage, and disappears. (Had not all this terrible scene-making the mimic ones preposterous--had it not all been rehearsed, in blank, by Booth, beforehand?) -women A moment's hush, incredulous-a scream-the cry of murder—Mrs. Lincoln leaning out of the box, with ashy cheeks and lips, with involuntary cry, pointing to the retreating figure, "He has killed the President." And still a moment's strange, incredulous suspense-and then the deluge!--then that mixture of horror, noises, uncertainty—(the sound, somewhere back, of a horse's hoofs clattering with speed) the people burst through chairs and railings, and break them up-that noise adds to the queerness of the scene there is extricable confusion and terrorfaint--quite feeble persons fall, and are trampled on--many cries of agony are heard-the broad stage suddenly fills to suffocation with a dense and motley crowd, like some horrible carnival-the audience rush generally upon it—at least the strong men do-the actors and actresses are there in their play costumes and painted faces, with moral fright showing through the rouge-some trembling, some in tears the screams and calls, confused talk--redoubled, trebledtwo or three manage to pass up water from the stage to the President's box-others try to clamber up-etc., etc. In the midst of all this the soldiers of the President's Guard, with others, suddenly drawn to the scene, burst in --some 200 altogether they storm the house, through all the tiers, especially the upper ones-inflamed with fury, literally charging the audience with fixed bayonets, muskets and pistols, shouting "Clear out! clear out!-you sons of b---!" Such the wild scene, or a suggestion of it rather, inside the play house that night. Outside, too, in the atmosphere of shock and craze, crowds of people, filled with frenzy, ready to seize any outlet for it, came near committing murder several times on innocent individuals. One such case was especially exciting. The infuriated crowd, through some chance, got started against one man, either for words he uttered, or perhaps without any cause at all, and were proceeding at once to hang him on a neighboring lamp-post, when he was rescued by a few heroic policemen, who placed him in their midst and fought their way slowly and amid great peril toward the station house. It was a fitting episode of the whole affair. The crowd rushing and eddying to and fro—the night, the yells, the pale faces, many frightened people trying in vain to extricate themselves-the attacked man, not yet freed from the jaws of death, looking like a corpse-the silent, resolute half dozen policemen, with no weapons but their little clubs, yet stern and steady through all those eddying swarms-made indeed a ficting side scene to the grand tragedy of the murder. They gained the station house with the protected man, whom they placed in security for the night, and discharged him in the morning. And in the midst of that night pandemonium of senseless hate, infuriated soldiers, the audience and the crowdthe stage, and all its actors aud actresses, its paint pots, spangles and gaslight-the life blood from those veins, the best and sweetest of the land, drips slowly down, and death's ooze already begins its little bubbles on the lips. Such, hurriedly sketched, were the accompaniments of the death of President Lincoln. So suddenly, and in murder and horror unsurpassed, he was taken from us. But his death was painless. THE END. CHICAGO. MISTAKES OF INGERSOLL AS SHOWN BY PROF. SWING; W. H. RYDER, D.D.; BROOKE HERFORD, D.D.; J. MONRO GIBSON, D.D.; RABBI WISE, AND OTHERS. Including also Mr. Ingersoll's Lecture, entitled "The Mistakes of Moses.' 8vo., 128 PAGES, ILLUSTRATED. EDITED BY J. B. McCLURE. Price, in Paper Cover, 35 cts. Sent by mail, post paid, on receipt of price, by the publishers. INGERSOLL'S LECTURE ON "SKULLS," And His Funeral Oration at His Brother's Grave, WITH COMMENTS OF THE SAME BY HENRY WARD BEECHER and Hon. ISAAC N. ARNOLD INCLUDING ALSO MISTAKES OF INGERSOLL, BISHOP CHENEY: AS SHOWN BY CHAPLAIN MCCABE; ROBERT COLLYER, D.D.; 8vo., 150 Pages, Illustrated. Edited by J. B. McCLURE. Price, in Paper Covers, 35c. Sent by mail, on receipt of price, by the publishers. N. B.-The above two volumes are bound together in Cloth, extra fine, for $1.00. Sent by mail on receipt of price. CHICAGO. 8vo., 200 Pages. Handsomely Illustrated. EDITED BY J. B. McCLURE. This volume contains perhaps the best collection of stories ever issued, as told by one of the greatest story tellers, and best of men, Abraham Lincoln. Price, in Cloth, fine, 75 cts.; Paper, 35 cts. Sent by mail, on receipt of price, by the publishers. (TENTH THOUSAND.) EDISON AND HIS INVENTIONS. 8vo., 178 PAGES. ILLUSTRATED. EDITED BY J. B. McCLURE. This book contains the many interesting incidents and all the essential facts, connected with the life of the great inventor, together with a full explanation of his principal inventions, including the phonograph, telephone, and electric light, which are explained by the use of diagrams. OPINIONS OF THE PRESS. "Edison and His Inventions" is one of the largest and most entertaining books that has been laid on our table. A glance at the title page assures us that the book can not fail to be interesting when we see that it has been compiled by Mr. J. B. McClure, of the well-known firm of Rhodes & McClure. -The Interior. It gives many interesting anecdotes of this odd genius, with full explanations of the telephone, phonograph, tasimiter, and last, and perhaps most important of all, the results of his electric light triumph. Numerous cuts make it comparatively easy for even the unscientific to understand the descriptive parts.-Editorial in the Advance. This volume of Mr. McClure's is one that will interest every reader. Not only those older will read it with interest but it is a book full of valuable instruction to the young, for its facts and for its suggestive thoughts.-The Inter-Ocean. Mr. McClure has gathered his material with great industry, and so used it as to make a very readable book. An excellent idea is given both of the man and of his work.-The Standard. Price, in Cloth, fine, 75 cts.; Paper, 35 cts. Sent by mail, on receipt of price, by the publishers. |