So, you want to dredge up the details of a man who was, by all accounts, a rather pathetic footnote in a far grander, and infinitely more tragic, historical drama. Fine. Don't expect me to find anything particularly admirable in this particular specimen.
George Atzerodt
Background and Early Life
George Andrew Atzerodt. Born Georg Andreas Atzerodt, June 12, 1835, in Dörna, a place now swallowed by Unstruttal in the Province of Saxony, Prussia. He was a child of German immigrants, arriving in the United States in 1843, a mere eight years old. He spent most of his life here, enough to establish a carriage repair business in Port Tobacco, Maryland. A useful trade, one might think. Apparently not useful enough for Atzerodt, or perhaps he simply lacked the conviction for it. It’s telling, isn't it, that despite living here for decades, he never quite mastered the language? A persistent linguistic barrier, much like the moral one he’d later stumble over.
Involvement in the Conspiracy
The year 1865 was a volatile one, and it seems Atzerodt found himself drawn into the orbit of John Wilkes Booth. Introduced by John Surratt in Washington, D.C. in January of that year, Atzerodt, by his own admission during his subsequent trial, was initially willing to participate in Booth's rather theatrical plan to kidnap President Abraham Lincoln. A kidnapping, mind you. A step down from outright assassination, but still a significant transgression. This initial willingness, however, hints at a certain malleability, a susceptibility to influence that would prove to be his undoing.
The historical record, as it stands, suggests Booth assigned Atzerodt the particularly grim task of assassinating Vice President Andrew Johnson. The plan was set for April 14, 1865. Atzerodt, rather than confronting Johnson directly, booked a room – room 126 – at the Kirkwood House, where the Vice President was staying. The timing was meant to coincide with Booth's own brutal act at Ford's Theater. While Lewis Powell was busy attacking the already injured Secretary of State William Seward, Atzerodt was supposed to be dispatching Johnson.
But here’s where the narrative, and Atzerodt’s nerve, frayed. He couldn't do it. The thought of actually pulling the trigger, of carrying out the act, proved too much for his considerably limited fortitude. Instead of fulfilling his assigned role, he retreated to the hotel bar, drowning his cowardice in alcohol. He became thoroughly intoxicated, a drunken specter wandering the streets of Washington, the intended act of violence left undone. In his inebriated state, he even managed to discard his weapon, a knife, into a gutter, a rather conspicuous act that drew the attention of a passerby who promptly reported it to the authorities. A detail so mundane, so utterly lacking in dramatic flair, it almost makes one pity him, if pity were a currency I dealt in.
The suspicion, as it often does, brewed the following day, after Lincoln’s assassination had sent shockwaves across the nation. A hotel employee, recalling the "suspicious looking man in a gray coat" who had been inquiring about Johnson's whereabouts, contacted the police. This, combined with the dropped knife, led to a search of Atzerodt’s room on April 15. They found he hadn't slept there, but beneath his pillow lay a loaded revolver and a concealed Bowie knife. Booth's bank book was also discovered. It wasn't long before Atzerodt was apprehended on April 20, hiding at his cousin Hartman Richter's home in Germantown, Maryland.
Trial and Execution
The trial of the Lincoln assassination conspirators commenced on May 1, 1865, and Atzerodt was among them. His defense, presented by Captain William Doster, attempted to paint him as a "constitutional coward," arguing that his inherent timidity meant Booth couldn't have possibly relied on him for such a critical task. A rather flimsy defense, even by the standards of the time, suggesting that Booth, a man known for his dramatic flair, would assign a mission of such consequence to someone demonstrably incapable of carrying it out. It didn't sway the military tribunal.
Atzerodt was convicted of conspiracy and sentenced to death. He was eventually hanged on July 7, 1865, alongside Mary Surratt, Lewis Powell, and David Herold in the courtyard of the Washington Arsenal. His final words, delivered with what little dignity he could muster, were a rather uninspired: "May we all meet in the other world. God take me now." A fitting end for a man who couldn't even fulfill his role in a conspiracy. He was later re-interred in Glenwood Cemetery in 1869.
Portrayal in Media
It appears George Atzerodt's brief and ignominious involvement has been deemed worthy of fictionalization. He makes an appearance in the television series Timeless in the season 1 episode "The Assassination of Abraham Lincoln," where he's portrayed by Travis MacDonald. In this telling, his attempt on Johnson’s life is thwarted, and he's apprehended by soldiers. More recently, he was depicted by Tommie Turvey in the miniseries Manhunt. This version, however, compresses the timeline, showing his arrest on the night of the assassination itself, a departure from the historical record. It seems the narrative finds his failure more compelling than his eventual capture. Perhaps it’s a reflection of the human fascination with the near-miss, the almost-accomplished, even when the almost-accomplished is the failure to commit murder.