ONE THOUSAND FAMOUS THINGS 245
him* His automatic moaning ceased,, a look of unspeakable peace
came upon his worn features, and at twenty-two minutes after seven
he died, Stanton broke the silence by saying " Now he belongs to
the ages."
Booth had been recognised by dozens of people as he stood before
the footlights, but his swift horse quickly carried him beyond hap-
hazard pursuit. He rode into Maryland, being very soon joined by
David Herold. The assassin and his wretched acolyte came at
midnight to Mrs Surratt's Tavern and afterwards pushed on through
the moonlight to the house of a surgeon named Mudd, who set Booth's
leg and gave him a room. After parting with him they were given
into the charge of a Thomas Jones, a contraband trader. He kept
Booth and Herold hiding at the peril of his life for a week, feeding
and caring for them in the woods near his house, watching for an
opportunity to ferry them across the Potomac. But there is no
final escape than suicide for an assassin with a broken leg. At each
painful move their chance of discovery increased. Jones was ables
after repeated failures, to row his fated guests across the Potomac,
Arriving on the Virginia side9 they lived the lives of hunted animals
for two or three days longer, finding to their horror that they were
received by the staunchest Confederates with more of annoyance
than enthusiasm, though none indeed offered to betray them.
Booth had by this time seen the comments in the newspapers on
Ms work, and bitterer than death and bodily suffering was the blow
to his vanity. He confided his feelings of wrong to his diary 5 com-
paring himself favourably with Brutus and William Tell, and com-
plaining : I am abandoned with the curse of Cain upon rnes when, if
the world knew my heart, that one blow would have made me great.
On the night of April 25 he and Herold were surrounded as they
lay sleeping in a barn. "When called upon to surrender Booth refused.
Herold came out. The barn was fired,, and while it was burning
Booth, clearly visible through the cracks hi the building, was shot by
a sergeant of cavalry.
Upon the hearts of a people glowing with the joy of victory the
news of the President's assassination fell as a great shock. It was the
first time the telegraph had been called upon to spread over the world
tidings of such deep and mournful significance. In the stunning
effect of the unspeakable calamity the country lost sight of the
national success of the past week, and it thus came to pass that there
was never any organised expression of the general rejoicing in the
North over the downfall of the rebellion.
As soon as it was announced that Mr Lincoln was to be birried at
Springfield, Illinois, every town and city on the road begged that the
train might halt within its limits and give its people the opportunity of
testifying their grief and reverence. The train went up the Hudson
River by night, and at every town and village on the way vast waiting