[From the Gateshead Observer, Saturday, April 29, 1865.]

One of the foulest deeds in the annals of crime has been committed at Washington. President Lincoln, sitting in the theatre, accompanied by his wife, was shot to death on the 14th instant by an assassin, who unfortunately escaped, and had not been apprehended when the Nova Scotia, which reached Liverpool on Thursday, left New York.

No wonder that so dreadful a murder, so far as Mr. Lincoln was concerned, and so great a calamity for the country which he governed with an ability which even his adversaries have not been the last to admit has aroused the indignation [Page 374] of every people to which its perpetration has been made known, and warmed even the coldest heart into sympathy with her who has been deprived not only of a husband, but of one whose management of state affairs has illuminated a brighter page in the history of his country than any which has been emblazoned since the death of Washington.

The crime, indeed, the more it is looked at, intensifies in atrocity, for Mr. Lincoln, at the moment of his assassination and in the hour of victory, it is well known, and as we always believed would be the case, Was desirous of securing peace with the least possible humiliation to the defeated party, and with a view to an impartial promotion of the interests of every State of the Union, the restoration of which was the great object of his incessant labor, and as he (we believe most honestly) believed the one thing needful to secure the power and happiness of the republic.

The utter hopelessness of further resistance in the south had been proved by the surrender of General Lee, with all that remained of his army, to the federal commander. The terms given by the victorious general, Grant, to his gallant, although unsuccessful opponent, were of themselves an indication of that clement policy on which the President is said to have been resolved. There was no humiliation—no captivity for either officers or men—all the honors of war were allowed by the victor, and the parole d’honneur of the vanquished was considered sufficient security that no resumption of arms would be resorted to by soldiers whose conduct in the field had secured them respect both in the cabinet and the camp of the conquerors.

The ruffian, in striking down the President, struck at the same time at the heart of a nation desirous of forgetting past differences and of changing a bloody war into an everlasting peace. He was the murderer not merely of the President but of that disposition towards forgiveness which was beginning to manifest itself in almost every department and every class in the federal States. Indeed, it is difficult to say whether the deed ought to be most bitterly execrated in the northern or in the southern States. The death-wound of the President, it is true, laid a great man low, but it produced a paroxysm of anguish at the same time in every city, nook, and corner of the vast territories which he ruled, and, we have not the least doubt, in those also which were endeavoring to secure their independence. Murder, in its ordinary acceptation, is a thing unknown to honorable warfare; and as such, we verily believe, this sad and sanguinuary act will be regarded in the Confederate States.

It is to be deplored that so great a criminal as Wilkes Booth (as the wretch is called) even temporarily escaped. That he will succeed in evading justice for any considerable length of time we cannot believe. No community, even of literal savages, would harbor such a monster. The mark of Cain will be upon him, and we fain trust will facilitate his apprehension. We only hope that he may have gone to some Confederate State, because we cannot but believe that, despite all the asperities of which civil strife has been productive, he would in that case be immediately given up to the federal authorities; and the doing so would tend to dispel suspicions, which in some quarters seem to prevail, that the murder was planned, not by one or two individuals only, but by the government of the southern confederacy—an atrocity of which we believe the latter to be utterly incapable.

That there were two persons bent on murder on the 14th is evident, because, while Booth was shooting Mr. Lincoln, another ruffian, whose name is unknown, and who has also escaped, was endeavoring to stab to death Mr. Seward, although lying in a state of great suffering, consequent upon a recent serious accident; and not only was the life of Mr. Seward jeopardized, but his son was grievously wounded by the assassin’s dagger while endeavoring to protect his father against the man of blood. Indeed, it was at first reported that young Seward had died of his wounds, but this has been, since, contradicted. We [Page 375] sincerely hope that both father and son may yet live to serve their country and earn its gratitude.

It is an eminently creditable as well as consolatory fact that, in every portion of the United Kingdom, the news of the bloody scene in Washington theatre produced a thrill of horror and indignation, and that all classes, from the Queen on her throne to the very humblest of her subjects, are desirous of testifying to the people of America their detestation of the crime and their sympathy with those whom the assassin’s dagger has deprived at once of a father, a ruler, a statesman, and a friend.

In both Houses of Parliament, on Monday, an address to the Crown will be moved, expressive of sorrow and indignation at the murder of the President, and praying her Majesty to convey that expression of feeling to the American government.

The corporation of London and the great commercial cities and towns of the kingdom have already taken steps for uniting with the lords and commons in giving expression to their feelings on this sad occasion; and there is every reason to believe that few communities of any magnitude or importance will fail to follow the example, for it is one of those special occasions when the hearts of nations throb in unison, and when, in addition, as in our case, the impellent forces of a common origin raise from the lowest depths the well-springs of sympathy, commiseration, and affection.