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The crowd was deafening, shouts, roars, chaos was ensuing. Richard Lawrence was pulled up from the ground, terrified by the crowd, he began laughing. He was being pushed by Davy Crocket and a few others that surrounded him. A boot appeared from above, the only opening for sight, it struck one of the escorts, shouting crescendoed.

‘Traitor!’

‘Hang him!’

The escorts shouted back at the crowd to calm themselves, but continued to move forward with Lawrence. The sounds of the mud sloshing and footsteps were just as loud as the shouts. Lawrence thought the gray low clouds, the cold air, the squelching of the mud would be the last things his senses would process.

‘Get Jackson back to the White House!’

‘Let me alone! Let me alone! I know where this came from’ Jackson screamed still swinging his walking stick as he was being pushed away.

The men quickly rushed Lawrence in the opposite direction of President Andrew Jackson. The crowd didn’t dissipate, following them as they moved toward the Supreme Court Chambers (what is modern day North Wing of the Capital Building, as the Supreme Court didn’t have a permanent building after moving from Philadelphia.)

The group burst into the Supreme Court offices, Congressman Crocket demanded to speak with Judge William Cranch. Crocket knew that Cranch was a nephew of John Adams, he knew he was a sensible man. Cranch, looking surprised by the large mob that had filled his offices demanded to know what this was about.

‘This man’s a traitor and needs to be tried for treason! He shot and attempted to kill the President!’ A member of the crowd hollered, echoed by loud thumping of the mob’s boots in approval and cheers.

Cranch heard the story of what had just transpired from Congressman Crocket and others present.

‘It seems to me, that the only thing Mr. Lawrence is guilty of is of is petty assault. This is a misdemeanor under common law.’ Cranch dejected, still confused.

‘A misdemeanor!?’ Crocket exclaimed.

‘There was no actual battery sirs, the weapons did not discharge anything and nobody was hurt. In fact, Mr. Lawrence was technically the only one assaulted here.’

The room fell silent. A shock fell across the room.

‘Let off me Peasant!’ Lawrence screamed spitting at Congressman Crocket, commotion began again and was silenced by Cranch beginning to make a ruling.

‘If I must make a hasty ruling this soon, I will decide that there was simply a misdemeanor. Given the nature of Mr. Lawrence’s alleged crimes, I am setting bail at $1,000.’

The room erupted, boos began to take form. From the ruckus another distinct voice was heard.

‘Mr. Cranch! I must express that $1,000 bail doesn’t express the heinous nature of these crimes! As Attorney General appointed by President Jackson, I suggest that the prisoner should keep the peace! I proposed that the bail be lifted to $1,500!’ Francis Scott Key argued.

‘Mr. Key, with respect for your position, I will grant the motion. I will remind the Attorney General, that the Constitution states that we cannot demand excessive fines, including bail. If this granting is unconstitutional, I will have to overrule it and set bail back to $1,000.’

There were murmurs amongst the crowd.

‘Mr. Lawrence will be remanded to jail until his trial in April.’ Cranch ruled, and the crowd seemed satisfied.

Congressman Crocket, Francis Scott Key, and supporters of President Jackson marched Lawrence to jail.

‘What is this person guilty of?’ The prison worker asked.

‘This is Richard Lawrence, a house painter who – ‘

‘I am the KING! And you will-‘ Lawrence screamed over Key, but was slapped to silence by a member of the group. The Attorney General looked slightly disturbed and confused by that statement.

‘He attempted to murder the President.’ He finished. Lawrence smiled, his teeth died red from a bleed in his mouth caused by the commotion.

Lawrence would be thrown into a cold, lonely cell.

‘These fools will all be damned when. Haha! I need to get back to my supporters.’ he muttered to himself.

He grabbed some soot from a corner of the jail, the floors were incredibly dirty. He began writing nonsensical orders to his subordinates in England. His plan for when he prevailed through this.

‘Now he’ll release all my money, he knows I’m serious, surely now!’ He chuckled to himself, a disturbed guard listened. There would be random bouts of maniacal laughter that would come from his cell.

‘I must see my Secretary of War! Bring me Lord Aberdeen at once!’ Lawrence would scream to himself, hoping the guards would make effort to fill his demands.

Lawrence would remain like this in jail, placed on a restricted diet and left in mostly solitary confinement for the next few days.

The U.S. Marshall’s service wanted to send a doctor to examine Lawrence for insanity, a plausible defense for Lawrence who may be found unable to be responsible for his crimes. Once Jackson caught wind of this, he appointed a doctor loyal to him to conduct an evaluation as well. Doctor Causin was charged initially with the examination as he was the general physician of the jail. He had previously tried to examine Lawrence, but couldn’t.

Lawrence would shake and move away from the physician when he would try to touch Lawrence.

‘I need my royal doctor, not some lowly prison physician!’ He would snarl, however, Lawrence would speak to them.

At the behest of the U.S. Marshall service and the President, Doctor Causin waited for Dr. Sewell, a Jackson loyalist who was a professor of Anatomy and Physiology at The Colombian College (now George Washington University). It was up to these doctors to try to get into the mind of America’s first known presidential assassin.

If you enjoyed this, read the other parts or check out other series here.

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