CIVIL WAR JOURNAL - Joshua Frier - Chap. 3

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REMINISCENCES OF THE WAR BETWEEN THE STATES BY A BOY IN THE FAR SOUTH AT HOME AND IN THE RANKS OF THE CONFEDERATE MILITIA

By Joshua Hoyet Frier II (My Great Great Uncle)

Chapter 3 – Lewis Paine

It was in 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. 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, with the exception of him, prior 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 awakened, he leered at us in a manner I shall never forget, and after rubbing his eyes awhile, 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 looking 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 fisherman 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 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 farther identified the “Old Man.” He told me that 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 was over 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. Regmt. 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 it. The old man was the 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; full of years and honor. It was circulated some 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 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 just as such penalties ever are. Of one thing, I and everyone are 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 clay in the molder’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 his family that the fear of man was something they knew nothing of. Still, they were peaceable in manners, and courteous to all, and a more law abiding citizen, or better neighbor than his father never lived.

(Pgs. 13-18)