From the Richmond inquire, we have advices of the execution of the conspirators of John Wilkes

Booth. They are all described as dying penitent. Mrs. Sarat died quickly without struggle.

Secretary Seward's attacker Lewis Payne Powell died a horrible death. The knot having

slipped from behind his ear to the back of his neck so that suffocation was a slow process.

The entire affair seems to have been a cruel performance. The idea was prevalent that

the sentence would be commuted at the last moment. There is great astonishment that the

extreme sentence has been carried out at the hands of this government. The fault for

this cruelty lies at the feet of one man, the man who signed the order of execution and

sentenced her to death. Andrew Johnson, president of the United States.

The sentence leads that sheep to slaughter and I'm the one with a goddamn noose around

my neck. I want him gone, Wells. I want him gone by the end of the day.

It's not advisable, Mr. President. People are calling for a head on a spike. If I don't

give a medwant stand, they'll storm the gates of the White House looking for mine.

As I counseled you, sir, the time to fire stand was before the tribunal ever began, not

now in its bloody aftermath, and not with Mary Sarat's blood so freshly on your hands.

And what do you suggest I do? The people of this country have short memories, Mr. President.

In time, they will forget all about Mary Sarat and your role in her execution. That's

the Richmond inquire, a dragon me through the mud, Wells. The people of the south are never

going to forget this. They will, if you give them the gift of universal

amnesty. The tribunal failed, sir. Stanton failed to prove his conspiracy. The path for amnesty

is as clear now as it's ever been. You fight me on it every step of the way. Stanton's

a beaten dog, Mr. President. If you put him down, his friends in Congress will rally

...