It was the
early part of the year 1862 that by chance I happened to meet the boy Doc
Powell, who afterwards became the man of unenviable fame, Lewis Paine, the attempted
assassin of Secretary Seward, (and Lincoln conspirator). I was the bearer of a
message to his father who lived at this time in Hamilton County, Florida.
I had become
acquainted with all the family, he excepted, previous to my visit there. I had
heard of him as a very indolent, and worthless boy, the black sheep of the
flock. I had fancied him as a boy of my own size. His brother, Oliver and I
walked out to the barn to put away the horse I rode, and found him asleep on
the barn floor. Oliver aroused him, and when he was awakened he leered at us in
a manner I shall never forget, and after
rubbing his eyes a while, the boy that was destined to figure so prominently in
one of the most remarkable tragedies in this, or any age, looked me square in
the face for the first time. I thought him one of the ugliest, and most
repulsive boys I ever met…great coarse hair and a dull stupid countenance ;
slow and awkward in movement.
Such was my
first impression of the boy who, as a man became the pliant tool of such a scoundrel
as John Wilkes Booth. Later on, in the evening when I got better acquainted I
found him remarkably good-natured. We wandered around a lake that evening, and
he pointed out his favorite fishing grounds to me, and told me fishermen
stories which showed him to be a sportsman of the first-water.
Among them
was one that was of peculiar interest to me. He told me that he had slipped off
one Sunday morning with tackle for some sport and caught the Devil. He had a
terrible fight to land him, and when he finally succeeded , he came near biting
off one of his fingers, and walked right back into the water. I asked him how
he further identified the “Old Man” when he told me Uncle Green, an old Negro
on the place, had told him the character of his game. From the description he
gave of it I have since been able to make an alligator turtle out of it; one of
the most vicious reptiles that was ever created. This one accomplished a reform
that the fear of the rod never could; breaking a bad boy from fishing on
Sunday.
Before the
evening wore away, Dock and I were great friends; all his repulsiveness had
vanished, and it was with regret next morning that I parted with him. I exacted
a promise from him to visit me at my home, and gave him a similar one in
return, neither one of which was ever fulfilled. I never met him but once
afterwards and that was purely accidental, as he shortly afterwards joined
Capt. Stewart’s company of the 2nd Fla. Regt., and I never heard
from him but once, until his father got a letter from him after Lincoln’s
assassination. His father endeavored to go see him in Washington, but lack of
funds prevented. The old man was a soul of honor, no stain rested on any of his
family with the single exception of this boy; whose full name was Lewis
Thornton Powell. The old man died a few years ago in Orange County in this
State (Florida) full of years and honor.
It was
circulated a few years after Paine was hanged that the Elder Powell said he had
yielded up his life in a good cause. This I am satisfied was an untruth; for
while the entire family proved loyal to the South, Lewis excepted, (he having
joined the United States Army at one time) they were too high-toned and
honorable to countenance an assassination in any form.
His brother
Oliver, before mentioned, died or was killed early in the war; while the oldest
brother, George, is still living in this state. Such, dear reader, was my
acquaintance with the man who for a given price attempted to take the life of
Secretary Seward, and thereby coupled his name to one of the most atrocious
crimes of modern times.
While Paine’s
execution was deplored by his family, and their sympathetic friends, it was
generally acknowledged to be as just as such penalties ever is.
Of one
thing, I and every other one is satisfied that knew anything of him, it is this;
that he was incapable of conceiving or aiding in the origination of such a fiendish
plot as this. And in acting his part, he was simply as clay in the moulder’s
hands. It was his nature to be easily influenced for either good or evil, and
persons who knew him well said that any move or enterprise that had the element
of danger in it had a fascination for him that he was unable to resist.
It was said
of the family that the fear of man was something they knew nothing of. Still,
they were peaceful in manners, and courteous to all, and more law-abiding citizen
than his father never lived.
Excerpt from "Reminiscences of the War Between the States" by Joshua Frier, my 2x great Uncle
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