"BOOTH"
The Play
by
MT.M.Connolly M
Copyright ©2000 T.M. Connolly
Andrew Dundass ~ Mark Llewellyn
The location. Steps of the Capitol
Booth Act 1 Scene 1
Peter Taltavuls, Star Saloon Washington D.C April 13th 1865
The man standing at the bar was sardonically handsome, in fact to theatre goers of the time he was the handsomest man in the world, his face bore a good natured smile, while his black eyes glittered with humor and just a touch of mystery. He was dressed in a Black wool frock coat, with dark gray pants. He had chosen to accent the black of his attire with a vest of gold and green stripes.Completing the ensemble, a crisp white ruffled shirt, a black silk cravat encircling his elegant throat, in it, a diamond tiepin. No doubt a gift from one of his many female admirers. His only other jewelry was a large signet ring on his right small finger and his fathers watch nestled in the pocket of his vest. The man was John Wilkes Booth.. Actor! The bar, Peter Taltavuls Star Saloon was next door to the Ford Theatre and was frequented on a regular basis by Booth and other leading lights of the theatrical world. The drinks were poured before the intermission curtain fell, and set up ready for the influx at the end of each plays performance. Mr. Booth drank Brandy; a private stock was always reserved for him.
Union soldier Invites some of the bars patrons to join him at his table. The soldier is about eighteen and half of his face is missing, the result of a dispute with a minnie ball. A group of soldiers and drunken civilians are at various tables in the bar, One of the group at the soldiers table requests a tune from the guitar that rests across the young boys knee's Quietly he picks up his guitar and begins to sing. The song is ...Aura-lee, a favorite of both sides in the conflict. At the conclusion of the song one of the men shouts out a toast to Lincoln and General Grant.
Civilian To Father Abraham and Ulysses S. Grant!
[ Booth places his hand over his glass as the bartender goes to refill it.]Some of the soldiers and civilians leave the bar as a band goes marching by.
Booth Innkeeper, pray tell me upon which hour the bell will strike?
Barman Excuse me Sir?
Booth What time is it man?
Barman Oh! Begging your pardon sir… It’s just 10 minutes short of midnight.
Booth Midnight you say? another day struggles through the darkness, with no shining star to lead the way to resolution. Have you recieved any news of the army, has Johnston surrendered yet?
Barman ‘Tis mighty good news indeed. They say he is almost out of supplies, and half of his men lie in desperate straits upon the ground, with no topcoats or shoes.Some dies of hunger and the desertion rate is growing every day.....
Booth Sir! I but asked you a single question. I do not require a report from the front…. Excuse me.
Booth moves to an empty table and adjusts his watch. A waiter fills his Brandy glass. Leaning back in his seat he casually checks the room then removes an appointment book from his inside pocket and studies it. A man enters and makes for Booths table but at a shake of Booths head he goes to the bar instead. Booth goes to the complementary food table and is joined by the new arrival, who also prepares a plate for himself.
Booth How goes the night, friend? [He asks casually.]
Herold Ill! Sir, The war is proclaimed lost and the North celebrates. Those Yankee bastards are dancing in the street. I even heard that Lincoln is to attend the theatre tomorrow night. Men are dying by the thousands and that old demon plans to view an imitation of life.
Booth had stopped piling his plate and was standing as if frozen. He had been shot once in a play by a misloaded gun. He felt again as if he had been struck. He felt the chill ripple through his body, the plate almost dropped from his hands for he was trembling.
Booth I feel the need for good conversation tonight dear sir, will you join me for supper. Innkeeper a bottle of Brandy, for my guest and I…
They sit down keeping up the façade of mere acquaintanceship but after the liqour had been served and the staff gone to other duties Booth leaned into Herold. His black eyes no longer holding any humor.
Booth You fool! Herold, coming in here and babeling about Lincoln. Answer me! why did you not seek me out with this news sooner?
Herold Johnny! I only heard an hour ago, and I thought after our last kidnap attempt failed you had given up on him.
Booth I do not give up on things Herold, I merely find other means to achieve my goals… Come, tell me all you have in that addled pate of yours, there are thousands of our countrymen lying in Honest Abes stinking prisons waiting for someone to make sure they don’t become Americas new slaves. Though I dare say, a black buck could work any two of them into the grave.
Herold I’m sorry Johnny. I was walking back from the stables, and there were some Yankee soldiers checking doors and things, so I kinda hung around. I heard them griping about having to wander around alleys just because the president wanted a night out at the theatre. Grant is supposed to be going as well. I think ; They are bringing bodyguards, but no bluebellies inside the theatre.
[ Herolds voice had been rising as he realized his master’s interest was great in his report. Booth laid what looked like a friendly hand on his arm but Herold felt the bones grind together as Booth cautioned him to quiet down.]
Booth Easy man easy. You are certain of this. He will attend tomorrow. Which Theatre? Please tell me it is The Grovers or even... My God! Too much to pray for. The Ford?
Herold Aye! it’s the Ford all right. Seems the old man grows weary of tragedy and would wrinkle his face in a different manner, for a change. Damn his murdering soul that he would choke himself on it.
Booths mood changed as if made of quicksilver. Throwing back his head, he laughed long and loud. Wiping his eyes, he brought his face close to Herolds.
Booth “He is delivered!” … [The words hissed from his well shaped mouth, seeming to shock him back into normalcy]
Go! Round up the others, we will meet at Mary Surrats house at 2 oclock. that is 2am tonight, Davie get it straight. Herold you have done well, your country will thank you. Go, quickly. Time is a harsh and greedy master in that we all are enslaved of it. Indeed Mr. John Brown was correct at least in this. If nothing else.Go!
Herold Exit's
