One Desperate Shot That Changed History — The Final Days of Lincoln's Assassin, April 25, 1865

A Fleeing Assassin and a Ten-Day Manhunt

The gunshot that rang out at Ford's Theatre on the night of April 14, 1865, sent shockwaves across the entire nation. President Abraham Lincoln had fallen, and John Wilkes Booth — the man who pulled the trigger — leapt onto the stage and vanished into the darkness. Ten days later, on the night of April 25, 1865, more than 2,000 federal soldiers and investigators quietly surrounded a tobacco farm near Port Royal, Virginia.

Time seemed to stand still.

From Actor to Assassin — Who Was Booth?

John Wilkes Booth was one of the most celebrated actors in America at the time. He had made a name for himself in Shakespearean theater and won the hearts of countless female admirers with his striking looks. Yet beneath the surface burned a fanatical devotion to the Confederate cause. As the Civil War tilted toward a Union victory, Booth hatched a plan to kidnap Lincoln and exchange him for Confederate prisoners of war. When that scheme fell apart, desperation drove him to assassination instead.

Lincoln was not the only target that night. Vice President Andrew Johnson and Secretary of State William Seward were also marked for death. Seward survived, though gravely wounded, while the plot against Johnson collapsed when the conspirator assigned to kill him lost his nerve and fled.

The Long Night at Garrett's Farm

Nursing a broken leg, Booth fled through the Maryland countryside with fellow conspirator David Herold before crossing into Virginia. On April 24th, the two men took refuge at Richard Garrett's tobacco farm. The Garrett family believed them to be wounded Confederate soldiers.

On the night of April 25th, Union cavalry from the 16th New York surrounded the farm. Herold, overcome with fear, emerged from the barn and surrendered, but Booth refused to come out. Negotiations dragged on until one of the soldiers set the barn ablaze. Then, in the early hours of April 26th, a soldier named Boston Corbett defied his commanding officer's orders and fired — his bullet tearing through Booth's neck. Booth was dragged from the flames and died shortly after, reportedly murmuring the word "Useless."

The Wound Left by a Single Bullet

Lincoln's death cast a long, tragic shadow over the Reconstruction era that followed the Civil War. The lenient, conciliatory policies Lincoln had envisioned drifted without direction after his passing, leaving Black Americans in the South to endure years of further suffering. Historians still ask the question today: "Would America have turned out differently if Lincoln had lived?"

Eight of Booth's co-conspirators were brought before a military tribunal, and four — including Mary Surratt — were hanged. It was the first time in American history that a woman had been executed by the federal government.

🎬 This History on Screen

Steven Spielberg's Lincoln (2012), powered by Daniel Day-Lewis's towering performance, chronicles the final months of Lincoln's life as he fights to secure passage of the 13th Amendment abolishing slavery. Rather than depicting the assassination directly, the film conveys it through the reaction of Lincoln's son — a choice that leaves an even deeper impression.

Robert Redford's The Conspirator (2010) centers on the trial of Mary Surratt, accused of being part of the plot. The film takes a strongly critical view of the military tribunal's fairness and leans toward portraying Surratt as innocent, sometimes going beyond what the historical record fully supports.

The History Channel documentary Manhunt: The Search for John Wilkes Booth (2017) retraces Booth's escape route through on-site investigation and is a compelling watch. That said, it incorporates some conspiracy-leaning perspectives, so a degree of critical viewing is warranted.

History Remembers the Trigger

Booth believed he would go down in history as a hero. Instead, history recorded him as a cowardly assassin — and immortalized the very man he sought to destroy. A single gunshot took one life, and in the same moment, permanently branded the name of the man who fired it with infamy. History's irony is always this unsparing.