He said that John Wilkes Booth will not escape. The assassin might try to hide in the remotest place. But he will be found. Wherever he is, he will be found.
I still cannot believe our President is lost to us forever. I can't believe he will never lead his people again. Or ride by on his horse. Or stand at the window of his mansion.
Pa has stopped speaking. He is mute with anger and grief.
April 17, 1865
Jane Ellen is not well. I am desperately afraid for the baby. It is due within the week, but I fear Jane Ellen is so filled with sorrow, she will not have enough strength to bring new life into this world.
I tried to interest her in the baby today by asking her what we will name him if he is a boy. We have not yet chosen between Jonathan and Thomas. But she just turned her face to the wall and said she did not care.
Jed stays at the newspaper, and Pa wanders sadly about the city.
I sit at the window, waiting for them both to come home. They must help me comfort Jane Ellen. If anything happens to our baby, that will surely be the end of all of us.
April 18, 1865
All the houses up and down the street are draped in black. Pa is leaving soon to go view the President's body at the President's House. Thousands are already lined up there, Jed says.I told Jed that he should stay home for the sake of Jane Ellen and our unborn baby. He is anxious about her, too. But he said he must report the story about the President's funeral. I could see Jed was greatly upset, so I tried to calm him. I told him not to worry -- I would take care of Jane Ellen.
April 19, 1865
Bells toll all over the city.
The sun is blazing today. The cheerful brightness seems to mock our sorrow. It is the day of our President's funeral procession.
On Friday, the train will leave to carry his body back to his hometown in Springfield, Illinois, to be buried. The train will pass through many cities, and thousands of people will see it go by.
Later
Pa could barely speak when he returned home. But Jed described what he saw to Jane Ellen and me.
He said the procession moved slowly down Pennsylvania Avenue to the Capitol. Many thousands took part in the march.
A funeral carriage carried the President's remains. It was draped in black.
Behind the carriage was the President's gray horse. The horse carried no rider.
When Jed told us about the rider less horse, I burst into tears. I felt so sad for the gray horse missing his lost rider. I felt sad for Tad Lincoln missing the father who once rode beside him.
April 20, 1865
There is a $100,000 reward for the capture of John Wilkes Booth, the President's murderer.
Jed says the South will not give shelter to John Wilkes Booth, wherever he is. The South is grieving much like the North, says Jed. Many Southerners think Lincoln was their friend, too. At the war's end, he chose the path of forgiveness instead of revenge.
Jed said that Lincoln once said in a speech that we must all be friends, not enemies. The President had called up the "better angels of our nature" to help us.
I think only our better angels can help my family now. We are all still so sad, we barely speak to one another. Each of us seems locked in a private room of grief.
April 23, 1865
Jane Ellen is in great pain. She is tossing about on the bed and crying out. Jed is with her, holding her hands and talking gently. Pa has run out to the street to get a carriage to take her to the hospital.
It is pouring rain. I pray, I pray, I pray that Pa can find a carriage soon.
Later
Still pouring rain. Thunder booms in the sky. We are waiting at the hospital. Jane Ellen is in the operating room. Jed is pale and quiet and stares out the window. Pa is pacing the floor, whispering to himself, as if asking my mother in heaven for help.
I am writing in my journal, to keep from losing my mind.
Dear God, help us.
Early morning
Pa and I just got home. Jed is staying with Jane Ellen -- and our new baby boy.
Jane Ellen gave birth around midnight.
She bled a great deal. But the lady nurses stopped the blood and said she would be fine. They said the baby would be fine, too.
Pa and I are dead tired. But we are happy. For the first time in many days, our spirits are lifted. On the way home we talked about all the things we'll do with the baby as he grows up. Pa wants to teach him how to play the violin. I want to read books to him and teach him his letters.
The weather has cleared up. The brightest sunlight pours through our windows now, after the rain.
April 24, 1865
The baby looks quite red and tiny. He is sleeping peacefully at Jane Ellen's side. She is sleeping peacefully, too, though she looks very pale.
I don't want to leave them. I've been sitting here all morning, staring at their sweet faces.
Jane Ellen is going to live. My mother died, but Jane Ellen did not die. Our baby will have a wonderful mother.
April 25, 1865
Jane Ellen and our baby came home today. The doctors said she must stay in bed for at least two weeks. All of us must help take care of the baby -- especially me, since Pa and Jed will be working.Jed is so happy. For the first time since the President's death, he is moving about briskly and talking and making plans. He says we'll all name the baby tomorrow. Jane Ellen is too weary to think of a name today.
April 26, 1865
We have named the baby.
Pa, Jed, Jane Ellen, and I each wrote down on a piece of paper the name we most wanted. When we held up our papers, we saw that everyone had written the very same name: Abraham Lincoln Dickens.
What a big name for a tiny boy. He has a funny little face that makes silly expressions. His eyes stay closed, but his small hands grasp my finger and hold on tightly.
I am in love with him.
April 27, 1865
Jed just came home and told us that yesterday the Union cavalry trapped John Wilkes Booth in a barn. He was shot in the head and died. Other conspirators are being sought.
When I look at our tiny baby, I think about the day President Lincoln was born. It is hard to imagine that he was once such a tiny baby as ours. Did his mother ever dream he would be a great man?
May 1, 1865
I don't have much time to write in my journal now. I am always helping with the baby.
May 4, 1865
The baby is sleeping. For a quick moment, I am free to write.
Today the President was buried in Springfield, Illinois. His funeral train passed thousands of weeping mourners along the way.
I feel great sorrow for our whole nation. But most of all, I feel sorrow for Tad Lincoln. Just a few months ago, I thought he was the luckiest boy in the world. Now I think he must be the saddest.
I thought Madame Masha was an amazing fortune-teller. When she said, "Great change is coming," I thought she had special knowledge about the future.
The truth is Madame Masha only told me what is always true. Great change is always taking place. One day we envy someone. The next day, we pity the same person. One day a great man dies. The next, a tiny baby is born. One day there's rain. The next, the sun shines brightly.
If change is always taking place, how can we live a happy life? How can we not be fearful all the time?
Maybe all we can do is try to keep hope in our hearts -- try to trust "the better angels of our nature" to hold us together.
I must close now, as Jane Ellen needs my help. Abraham Lincoln Dickens has just woken up.
Life in America in 1864
About the AuthorMary Pope Osborne says, "I have a strong personal connection to Ford's Theatre in Washington, D.C., the theater where Abraham Lincoln was assassinated in 1865. Many years ago, I first saw my husband, Will, when he was starring in a play there. We later met and were married. Working on this book, I had the opportunity to revisit the theater that held such good memories for me, and such tragic memories for our nation.
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Mary Pope Osborne is the award-winning author of many books for children, including the best-selling Magic Tree House series;
After the Rain: My America 2 Page 4