Assassination of Lincoln: a History of the Great Conspiracy / Trial of the Conspirators by a Military Commission, and a Review of the Trial of John H. Surratt

by T. M. Harris

The other four, though not acquainted with him, identified him before the jury, more or less positively, as the man they had seen. It is worthy of remark that though they all testified with more or less of particularity in their descriptions of his person, his dress, his hat, his moustache, and as to the time of day when, and the place where, they had seen him, there was nothing incongruous or contradictory in their testimony. One witness, a colored woman, Susan Ann Jackson, who was in service at Mrs. Surratt's at the time, and had been for three or four weeks previous to the assassination, testified that under the direction of Mrs. Surratt she had made tea for the prisoner after the family and boarders had left the table on the night of the assassination, and that Mrs. Surratt had said to her on that occasion, "This is my son," and had asked her if he did not look like Annie. She said this was the first and only time she had seen him until she met him on his trial, and then she positively identified him as the man she had waited upon that night. The time was impressed on her memory by its being Good Friday, and the night of the assassination. Several of the witnesses who testified to his presence in the city on that day also testified that they saw him in company with Booth, and one, at least, with Booth and O'Laughlin. Surratt himself told his old acquaintance, St. Marie, with whom he renewed his acquaintanceship in the ranks of the Papal Zouaves at Velletri, in Italy, that he left Washington early on the morning of the 15th of April, disguised as an English tourist; and that he had a very hard time to make his escape. As the trains leaving Washington for Baltimore on the morning of the 15th were thoroughly scrutinized by the police before being permitted to leave, it is uncertain whether Surratt's disguise sufficed to get him through, or whether he went a part or all of the way to Baltimore on horseback. There was some evidence on this trial tending to the conclusion that he had escaped from the city on horseback. The next place we get track of him in his flight is at the railroad depot at Burlington, Vt., on the early morning of the 18th of April. Here he turns up with a rough-looking man, no doubt the ruffianly-looking fellow who was seen with him and Booth in front of the theatre on the night of the assassination. They had crossed Lake Champlain on a boat that ran from White Hall to Rouse's Point, on the night of the 17th, and landed at Burlington, in order to take the train to Montreal. This was the first trip the boat had made that season, and it was four hours late in reaching Burlington, arriving there about midnight. They had to wait for the morning train, which was due at four o'clock A.M. of the 18th. They requested permission to sleep at the depot, and the night watchman allowed them to sleep on the benches. He awakened them in time for the train, and after daylight, when sweeping the floor, he found a handkerchief under the bench where the taller of the two had slept, and upon examining it after it was fairly light found it marked, "J. H. Surratt 2." At Essex Junction, where they changed trains for St. Albans, these two travellers made the change, and were found by the conductor on his passing through the train standing on the platform outside. He asked them for their fare, and was told that they had no money. Surratt did all the talking. He represented that they were laboring men, had been at work in New York, and had been unfortunate and lost their money. He said they were now making their way back to Canada, and were ready to promise that if he would carry them through they would send him the fare as soon as they reached their friends. The conductor reminded them of the necessity of having money if they would travel.

Surratt disguised his speech, trying to use the dialect of a Canadian; but when he became excited from fear of being put off the train he forgot his Cannuck, and talked in good square English. The conductor also noticed that his hands were not those of a laboring man, and so concluded that the men were traveling incognito. This was on the early morning of the 18th of April. They arrived at St. Albans for breakfast. At the table they found everybody excited, and upon Surratt's inquiring what it meant, his next neighbor at the table, an old gentleman, informed him that the President had been assassinated, to which Surratt replied that "The news was too good to be true." The old gentleman then handed him a paper, and on looking it over he saw his own name given as one of the assassins. He dropped the paper, and found that he did not want any more breakfast. On passing out into the next room, he heard some one say that Surratt must be in town, or had passed through, as his handkerchief had been found in the street; when, upon feeling for his handkerchief, he found that he had lost it. They then left the place as quickly as possible, narrowly escaping arrest. He understood that his handkerchief had been picked up in the street of St. Albans, and no doubt, in the excitement, the news had taken that shape, but, as we have seen, he lost it at Burlington depot, and so the news must have been telegraphed to St. Albans.

JOHN H. SURRATT.

It is not known how they traveled from St. Albans to Montreal, but it is most probable that they walked across the country. We find Surratt's name on the hotel register at Montreal, where he arrived at about two o'clock on the 18th of April, he having been absent from that place from the 12th. This had been to him an eventful week, full of difficulties and hazards; but he may now feel safe, as he has reached the abode of the chief conspirators, his employers, and is ready to claim his reward. He can feel that he is in the midst of sympathizing friends. But, alas! a criminal can never feel safe. An angry God is ever on the track of the guilty conscience. As it was with the first murderer, so it must be with every murderer,—a fugitive and a vagabond he is compelled to be. He had hardly recorded his name on the hotel register when he was informed that detectives were on the look-out for him, and he was at once spirited away to the house of a Mr. Porterfield. This man was a Southerner, who belonged to Thompson's cabal, but who had abjured his allegiance to his country and taken the oath of allegiance to the Queen of England, and had thus become a British subject. He knew all about the conspiracy, and the means that had been employed to carry it into effect; and was waiting and watching anxiously for the return of his co-conspirators that had been sent to Washington on their mission of assassinations. He at once took Surratt into his house, and kept him secreted there for several days. Finding the detectives who were in pursuit of the fugitive vigilant and determined in their search, Porterfield became fearful that he could not keep his charge concealed, and so made arrangements to get him into a place of greater security.

At this point we meet with a new element amongst the Canada conspirators, viz., the Roman Catholic priesthood. Porterfield had arranged with Father Boucher to take his charge in custody, and keep him concealed. This Father was rector of the parish of St. Liboire, a newly-settled place, about forty-five miles from Montreal—an out-of-the-way place, and so a good place in which to hide him away. The arrangements had been made in advance with this Father to take charge of Surratt, and keep him secreted at his house. He was conveyed there by one Joseph F. Du Tilley, who seems to have been priest Boucher's right hand man. The stratagem to get him away from Montreal was as follows: two carriages drove up in front of Porterfield's house late in the afternoon, when two persons, dressed as nearly as possible alike, went out together; one of these got into one of the carriages, and the other into the other, when they drove away in different directions. Father Boucher appeared at the trial of Surratt as a voluntary witness for the defense, and without any apparent sense of shame convicted himself, by his own testimony, of being an accomplice after the fact. We think that the testimony he gave warrants the conclusion, also, that another priest, Father La Pierre, placed himself in the same category. Both of these Fathers took Surratt into their houses, and kept him concealed,—the first for three, and the latter for two months,—knowing him to be charged with being a conspirator to the assassination of the President of the United States.

Father Boucher's parish being in an out-of-the-way country place, it was only necessary that he should constantly exercise a prudent vigilance in behalf of his charge. He was visited frequently by his friends whilst staying with Boucher; at one time three or four of these came together, and stayed three or four days with him. The time was spent in hunting, sporting, and revelry. It was very remarkable, however, that Father Boucher could not remember the names of any of these friends. Being a volunteer witness for the defense, he could not give their names without implicating persons whom he did not desire to compromise; hence, no doubt, his convenient Jesuitical failure of memory. Perhaps he could not have given their names without injury to the cause he desired to help. He could only say that some of their names were English names, using the word English in contra distinction from French or French-Canadian, in which sense it implied not really English, but American,—Beverly Tucker for instance, perhaps Porterfield, and likely, also, La Pierre. As two of these, Beverly Tucker and La Pierre, along with Boucher, accompanied Surratt from Montreal to Quebec, and did not leave him until they had seen him safe on board the ocean steamer, "Peruvian," when he finally was sent to Europe, it would seem highly probable that we have rightly surmised who were his visitors on the occasion referred to. Surratt was not kept in close confinement by Father Boucher, but his safety from discovery and arrest was looked after with cunning vigilance. At length the time came when it was thought safe and advisable to transfer the fugitive back to Montreal. This was affected as secretly as had been his removal from that place to the parish of St. Liboire.

Father La Pierre now took him in charge. He had provided for him a secluded upstairs room at his father's house, right under the shadow of the bishop's window. This Father had been a visitor of Surratt at the lonely parish of St. Liboire, and now took him under his especial protection. He kept him concealed, and never allowed him to go out until after nightfall, and then never alone, but always accompanied him. La Pierre thus kept his charge safely from the latter part of July until the 5th of September, 1865. During all of this time he was visited regularly twice a week, on Mondays and Thursdays, by Father Boucher, who always remained over night with him at each visit. How can we account for this great interest taken by these two priests in secreting the murderer of the head of the greatest nation on earth, and that with a full knowledge that he stood charged with this crime, and that a great reward was offered for his apprehension? How can we consider them less guilty, in a moral point of view, than Surratt himself?

But at length a time came when it was thought safe and advisable to send him abroad.

Early in September Father La Pierre sought an interview with Dr. Lewis J. A. McMillen, surgeon on board the ocean steamer "Peruvian," which was to sail on the 16th of that month from Quebec for Liverpool, and made arrangements to put in his care for the passage a friend of his by the name of McCarthy, who, for certain reasons, desired to embark secretly on the voyage. The doctor took a steamer at Montreal, on the 15th, to join his ship, which was to sail on the following day.