Burroughs to bring the horse around; when Burroughs did not respond quickly enough Booth knocked
him to the ground with the butt of his knife and kicked him. Climbing into the saddle he spurred the horse on and galloped away. Within seconds Richards and Stewart arrived at the open door in time
to hear the frantic sound of a galloping horse heading away down the alley and into the night.
By now the theatre had erupted into panic and misery, people were stood around crying as news of the attack on the President spread. A doctor in the audience who had been attached to an army
unit and was familiar with gunshot wounds made his way to the presidential box. When he arrived Rathbone was just removing the wooden door jam that Booth had used to secure the white door. As he
entered the room he saw Mrs Lincoln cradling the President, whose head was bowed, his chin resting on his chest. The distraught First Lady asked if the doctor would be able to help the President,
although at first glance he had assumed the President was dead. Laying him out on the floor he ran his hand through the President’s blood-matted hair, his finger finding the half-inch hole at
the back of his head. Having found no pulse the doctor pushed his finger into the bullet hole and removed a blood clot in the vain hope of reducing the pressure on the President’s brain.
Another doctor then arrived, 23-year-old Dr Charles Sabin, who had been helped up over the railings and into the President’s private box. The two doctors began to applying artificial
respiration, pushing the President’s diaphragm in and out; when this didn’t work Sabin tried mouth-to-mouth resuscitation. Eventually Lincoln’s breathing returned feebly on its
own. Having worked hard to maintain the President’s life Sabin now faced the reality of the President’s injury – he had suffered a mortal gunshot wound to the brain and would
ultimately die of his injuries. However, no one wanted him to die in the theatre box, the White House was too far and so he was carried across the street to a boarding house where more doctors
arrived, eventually sixteen in total attending the dying President, who lingered on despite his severe injury. Throughout the night Lincoln’s life ebbed slowly away; the gunshot wound to the
head had caused major damage. Had he been shot today his wounds would have been difficult to treat and his prognosis poor. At 6.40 a.m., Dr Albert King jotted in a notebook that Lincoln’s
breaths were prolonged and groaning. At 7 a.m. King noted that the President was still breathing but with long pauses. Then, at 7.22 a.m., some nine hours after the attack, the President’s
chest rose, fell and did not rise again. Lincoln was dead, the victim of a most audacious assassination.
At the same time as Lincoln was being shot, Booth’s cohorts were involved in murderous activities themselves. At 10.10 p.m., Lewis Paine arrived at Seward’s three-storey mansion on
Lafayette Square, adjacent to the White House. Paine was accompanied by David Herold who, after refusing to be actively involved in the murder, was acting solely as the guide. Paine’s plan
was to pretend to be delivering medicine to the sick Seward and to insist on seeing the man so as to provide strict dosage instructions. Knocking at the door Paine was initially met by
Seward’s black servant William Bell, to whom he gave his story. When Bell refused to allow him entry Paine became more insistent and barged past the servant into the hallway. The commotion
drew the attention of the other guests who were now wondering what all the noise was about. As Bell climbed the stairs to see if Seward could receive a visitor, Paine noisily followed on behind,
quite aware that his presence was unwanted. At the top of the stairs Bell and Paine ran into Seward’s son Frederick, whereupon Paine once again explained his errand. Frederick was concerned
at disturbing his father but decided to check on him to see if
him to the ground with the butt of his knife and kicked him. Climbing into the saddle he spurred the horse on and galloped away. Within seconds Richards and Stewart arrived at the open door in time
to hear the frantic sound of a galloping horse heading away down the alley and into the night.
By now the theatre had erupted into panic and misery, people were stood around crying as news of the attack on the President spread. A doctor in the audience who had been attached to an army
unit and was familiar with gunshot wounds made his way to the presidential box. When he arrived Rathbone was just removing the wooden door jam that Booth had used to secure the white door. As he
entered the room he saw Mrs Lincoln cradling the President, whose head was bowed, his chin resting on his chest. The distraught First Lady asked if the doctor would be able to help the President,
although at first glance he had assumed the President was dead. Laying him out on the floor he ran his hand through the President’s blood-matted hair, his finger finding the half-inch hole at
the back of his head. Having found no pulse the doctor pushed his finger into the bullet hole and removed a blood clot in the vain hope of reducing the pressure on the President’s brain.
Another doctor then arrived, 23-year-old Dr Charles Sabin, who had been helped up over the railings and into the President’s private box. The two doctors began to applying artificial
respiration, pushing the President’s diaphragm in and out; when this didn’t work Sabin tried mouth-to-mouth resuscitation. Eventually Lincoln’s breathing returned feebly on its
own. Having worked hard to maintain the President’s life Sabin now faced the reality of the President’s injury – he had suffered a mortal gunshot wound to the brain and would
ultimately die of his injuries. However, no one wanted him to die in the theatre box, the White House was too far and so he was carried across the street to a boarding house where more doctors
arrived, eventually sixteen in total attending the dying President, who lingered on despite his severe injury. Throughout the night Lincoln’s life ebbed slowly away; the gunshot wound to the
head had caused major damage. Had he been shot today his wounds would have been difficult to treat and his prognosis poor. At 6.40 a.m., Dr Albert King jotted in a notebook that Lincoln’s
breaths were prolonged and groaning. At 7 a.m. King noted that the President was still breathing but with long pauses. Then, at 7.22 a.m., some nine hours after the attack, the President’s
chest rose, fell and did not rise again. Lincoln was dead, the victim of a most audacious assassination.
At the same time as Lincoln was being shot, Booth’s cohorts were involved in murderous activities themselves. At 10.10 p.m., Lewis Paine arrived at Seward’s three-storey mansion on
Lafayette Square, adjacent to the White House. Paine was accompanied by David Herold who, after refusing to be actively involved in the murder, was acting solely as the guide. Paine’s plan
was to pretend to be delivering medicine to the sick Seward and to insist on seeing the man so as to provide strict dosage instructions. Knocking at the door Paine was initially met by
Seward’s black servant William Bell, to whom he gave his story. When Bell refused to allow him entry Paine became more insistent and barged past the servant into the hallway. The commotion
drew the attention of the other guests who were now wondering what all the noise was about. As Bell climbed the stairs to see if Seward could receive a visitor, Paine noisily followed on behind,
quite aware that his presence was unwanted. At the top of the stairs Bell and Paine ran into Seward’s son Frederick, whereupon Paine once again explained his errand. Frederick was concerned
at disturbing his father but decided to check on him to see if
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