the visit was possible. Unfortunately Frederick had now unknowingly given Paine Seward’s location. When Frederick refused Paine
permission to enter his father’s bedroom Paine turned as if to walk down back down the stairs, then suddenly spun round with a pistol in his hand, pointed the gun directly at Frederick and
pulled the trigger, but to Paine’s disappointment the gun did not go off. Faced with a situation he had not foreseen Paine lunged at Frederick and whipped him about the head with the butt of
the gun, breaking it in the process. Frederick sustained two skull fractures in the attack yet managed to grapple with the much bigger Paine, right up to his father’s bedroom door. Outside
William Bell had run into the street to find some help, screaming, “Murder! Murder!”
Hearing the commotion outside, Private George F. Robinson, who had been sitting with Seward, opened the door to the bedroom and was met by Paine who had drawn his bowie knife. Robinson was
struck immediately on the forehead and was forced to the ground with blood pouring from the open wound. Also in the room was Seward’s daughter, Fanny, who was shoved out of the way as Paine
jumped on to the sick man’s bed. Striking ferociously with his knife, Paine inflicted several severe injuries, the first opening a wound so deep on Seward’s cheek that his tongue could
be seen through it. Other stabs hit the beleaguered Seward in his neck, narrowly missing major arteries.
Robinson had by now got to his feet and had struck Paine from behind, but he continued slashing away with his knife, injuring Robinson even more, twice cutting him through to the bone. Another
house guest now joined the affray, Seward’s other son, Major Augustus Seward, who had been asleep in the room next door. He and Robinson grappled with Paine and the three men gradually moved
towards the bedroom door. Once at the top of the stairs Paine broke free and dashed down into the hallway where he ran into Seward’s State Department messenger, who had his back to him, and
stabbed the man before running for his horse. By now David Herold had already departed, afraid the screams of William Bell would draw in help before Paine could complete his work.
Inside the house, Seward had suddenly regained consciousness, declared that he was not dead and that a surgeon should be called along with the police. He subsequently survived the attack and
would live to see justice dispensed.
Vice President Johnson, George Atzerodt’s intended victim, would also survive. Atzerodt, who was not a killer by nature, had become less and less happy with his role as the evening had
progressed. Typical of the man he handled his unease in the best way he knew how – he got drunk in the bar of Kirkwood House, the hotel where Vice President Johnson was staying. The timing of
Atzerodt’s attack was of great significance, as was his victim, for once Johnson became aware of Lincoln’s condition, as the next in line to the presidency he would be forced to visit
and potentially take control. Atzerodt allowed the 10.15 p.m. deadline to come and go, instead sinking further into a whiskey induced haze. With the task still preying on his mind, he decided to
leave the hotel and instead find lodgings for the night, he had decided he would not be able to progress with Booth’s plan. Out on the street he noticed a large contingent of cavalry troops
ride past, and suspected he knew their business. As if to distance himself further from the evening’s plans he threw his dagger away and staggered off to find a bed for the night.
News of the attack on the President spread fast – even in these early days of the fledgling newspaper industry reporters were prepared to sell their papers on the back of some startling
headlines. Secretary of War Stanton had assumed the responsibilities of the President and had already set in motion plans to capture the perpetrators. All southbound trains from Washington had
permission to enter his father’s bedroom Paine turned as if to walk down back down the stairs, then suddenly spun round with a pistol in his hand, pointed the gun directly at Frederick and
pulled the trigger, but to Paine’s disappointment the gun did not go off. Faced with a situation he had not foreseen Paine lunged at Frederick and whipped him about the head with the butt of
the gun, breaking it in the process. Frederick sustained two skull fractures in the attack yet managed to grapple with the much bigger Paine, right up to his father’s bedroom door. Outside
William Bell had run into the street to find some help, screaming, “Murder! Murder!”
Hearing the commotion outside, Private George F. Robinson, who had been sitting with Seward, opened the door to the bedroom and was met by Paine who had drawn his bowie knife. Robinson was
struck immediately on the forehead and was forced to the ground with blood pouring from the open wound. Also in the room was Seward’s daughter, Fanny, who was shoved out of the way as Paine
jumped on to the sick man’s bed. Striking ferociously with his knife, Paine inflicted several severe injuries, the first opening a wound so deep on Seward’s cheek that his tongue could
be seen through it. Other stabs hit the beleaguered Seward in his neck, narrowly missing major arteries.
Robinson had by now got to his feet and had struck Paine from behind, but he continued slashing away with his knife, injuring Robinson even more, twice cutting him through to the bone. Another
house guest now joined the affray, Seward’s other son, Major Augustus Seward, who had been asleep in the room next door. He and Robinson grappled with Paine and the three men gradually moved
towards the bedroom door. Once at the top of the stairs Paine broke free and dashed down into the hallway where he ran into Seward’s State Department messenger, who had his back to him, and
stabbed the man before running for his horse. By now David Herold had already departed, afraid the screams of William Bell would draw in help before Paine could complete his work.
Inside the house, Seward had suddenly regained consciousness, declared that he was not dead and that a surgeon should be called along with the police. He subsequently survived the attack and
would live to see justice dispensed.
Vice President Johnson, George Atzerodt’s intended victim, would also survive. Atzerodt, who was not a killer by nature, had become less and less happy with his role as the evening had
progressed. Typical of the man he handled his unease in the best way he knew how – he got drunk in the bar of Kirkwood House, the hotel where Vice President Johnson was staying. The timing of
Atzerodt’s attack was of great significance, as was his victim, for once Johnson became aware of Lincoln’s condition, as the next in line to the presidency he would be forced to visit
and potentially take control. Atzerodt allowed the 10.15 p.m. deadline to come and go, instead sinking further into a whiskey induced haze. With the task still preying on his mind, he decided to
leave the hotel and instead find lodgings for the night, he had decided he would not be able to progress with Booth’s plan. Out on the street he noticed a large contingent of cavalry troops
ride past, and suspected he knew their business. As if to distance himself further from the evening’s plans he threw his dagger away and staggered off to find a bed for the night.
News of the attack on the President spread fast – even in these early days of the fledgling newspaper industry reporters were prepared to sell their papers on the back of some startling
headlines. Secretary of War Stanton had assumed the responsibilities of the President and had already set in motion plans to capture the perpetrators. All southbound trains from Washington had
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