Enter now to win a copy of
Entertaining Women: Actresses, Dancers, and Singers in the Old West
Mary Todd Lincoln screamed. Clara Harris, seated in the balcony adjacent to President Abraham Lincoln’s wife, jumped out of her seat and rushed to the hysterical woman’s side. “He needs water!” Harris cried out to the audience at Ford’s Theatre staring up at her in stunned silence. “The President’s been murdered!” The full, ghastly truth of the announcement washed over the congregation, and the scene that ensued was as tumultuous and as terrible as one of Dante’s pictures of hell. Some women fainted, others uttered piercing shrieks and cries for vengeance, and unmeaning shouts for help burst from the mouth of men. Beautiful, dark-haired actress, Laura Keene hurried out from the wings dressed in a striking, maroon colored gown under which was a hoop skirt and number of petticoats that made the garment sway as she raced to a spot center stage. She paused for a moment before the footlights to entreat the audience to be calm. “For God’s sake, have presence of mind, and keep your places, and all will be well.” Laura’s voice was a brief voice of reason in a chaotic scene. Few could bring their panic under control. Mary Lincoln was in shock and sat on her knees beside her mortally wounded husband rocking back and forth. She cradled her arms in her hands and sobbed uncontrollably.
Laura ordered the gas lights around the theatre turned up. Patrons bolted toward the building’s exits. As they poured out into the streets, they told passersby what had occurred. Crowds began to gather, and there were just as many people coming back into the theatre as were trying to leave. Laura stepped down off the stage and began fighting against the current of people pressing all around her. Word began to pass through the frantic group that John Wilkes Booth was responsible for shooting the President. Sharp words were exchanged between the individuals coming in and going out the building. Insane grief began to course through the theatre, and ugly suppositions started to form. “An actor did this!” Laura wrote in her memoirs about what people were saying at the event. “The management must have been in on the plot! Burn the damn theatre! Burn it now!” Laura disregarded the remarks and somehow worked her way to the rear box where Mr. Lincoln was and stepped inside.
According to the biography of Laura Keene by Vernanne Bryan, when the actress entered the President’s box he was laying on the floor. “At first glance it was as if he had only fallen and his usual black, unruly hair had simply become more tousled from the fall,” Bryan reported what Laura witnessed. “But upon closer scrutiny, the picture became distorted and took on the shadowy quality of the non-rational, for under his great head, seeping slowly across the floor in a crimson pool, came his life’s blood.” Doctor Charles Leale was attending to President Lincoln while Laura was there and told other physicians on the scene that Mr. Lincoln’s wounds were fatal. “It is impossible for him to recover,” he is noted telling his colleagues.
To learn more about Laura Keene and other thespians like Laura read Entertaining Women: Actresses, Dancers, and Singers in the Old West
