Today, Lindsey and I made a visit to Tudor Hall, the home of the Booth family, and other sites relating to the Booths in Harford County, MD. A more thorough post will follow later but, as we drive home, I thought I’d put up this teaser of pictures from our day:
And, as a challenge to you all, what is the Boothie significance of where I am in this picture?
Hint: Snoop around the Harford County Historical Society’s web page for it.
Today, May 10th, 2013, marks the 175th anniversary of John Wilkes Booth’s birth. Before becoming the cause of such a great national tragedy, John Wilkes was merely an infant who entered the world in the presence of his father Junius Brutus Booth, a rare occasion for the traveling theatrical star. Like the man he would later assassinate, Booth was born into a log cabin on the family’s farm near Bel Air, MD in 1838. At the age of six months, Mary Ann Holmes, holding young John Wilkes in her arms, prayed to know what future lay in store for her then youngest child. An answer to her prayer appeared before her in the form of a vision. Years later, Asia Booth would translate the experience into a poem as a birthday gift to her mother:
“The Mother’s Vision
Written 1854, June 2nd, by A[sia] B[ooth], Harford Co., Md‘Tween the passing night and the coming day
When all the house in slumber lay,
A patient mother sat low near the fire,
With that strength even nature cannot tire,
Nursing her fretful babe to sleep –
Only the angels these records keep
Of mysterious Love!One little confiding hand lay spread
Like a white-oped lily, on that soft far bed,
The mother’s bosom, drawing strength
And contentment warm –
The fleecy head rests on her circling arm.
In her eager worship, her fearful care, Riseth to heaven a wild, mute prayer
Of Foreboding Love!Tiny, innocent white baby-hand,
What force, what power is at your command,
For evil, or good? Be slow or be sure,
Firm to resist, to pursue, to endure –
My God, let me see what this hand shall do
In the silent years we are tending to;
In my hungering Love,I implore to know on this ghostly night
Whether ‘twill labour for wrong, or right,
For – or against Thee?
The flame up-leapt
Like a wave of blood, an avenging arm crept
Into shape; and Country shown out in the flame,
Which fading resolved to her boy’s own name!
God had answered Love –
Impatient Love!”
The inscription inside of a book given to John Wilkes Booth by his mother, Mary Ann Holmes Booth, on his birthday in 1861.
175 years ago, a boy named John Wilkes Booth was born. And, as noted by his mother’s vision, our Country feels the ramifications of his existence even today.
References:
John Wilkes Booth: A Sister’s Memoir by Asia Booth Clarke
Thanks to the recent offering of books from authors Richard and Kellie Gutman, I purchased the auction catalog from the June 1990 auction of the Boothbay Theatre Museum collection. The private museum was located in Boothbay, Maine and contained the collection of Franklyn Lenthall, a theatrical producer, director, and teacher. Here are a couple of excerpts from Lenthall’s introduction in the catalog:
“Since the age of twelve I have had a passion for theatre, and I have always been a scavenger. When I read Eleanor Ruggles’ “Price of Players,” my acquisitive instinct focused on the collecting of theatre memorabilia and more especially memorabilia relating to the Booth family…
In 1975 [James] Wilmot and I sold the Boothbay Playhouse and moved the collection to the perfect location, a beautiful 18th century house and barn. When we learned that John K. Corey was born in this house, and that while he was a soldier, was present at Ford’s Theatre in Washington, D.C., April 14, 1865, when actor John Wilkes Booth assassinated President Lincoln during a performance of “Our American Cousin,” we felt that instinctively we had chosen the right building for the Boothbay Theatre Museum. Previously we learned Edwin Booth , America’s greatest actor, had sailed into Boothbay Harbor July 27, 1887, on the steam yacht, “Oneida,” as guest of financier E. E. Benedict. It was on that cruise that the idea of a club for actors was conceived; thus the existence of “The Players” in Gramercy Park in New York City…”
What follows is just a sampling of some of the Booth related items that were sold at the Boothbay auction.
| 2. Painting of Edwin Booth, 1833-1893, by N. Clark, ’88.
Pastel on linen. Signed “N. Clark, ‘88” lower left corner. Framed, 27-3/4” x 24” s.s., in excellent condition Provenance: Professional Women’s League, New York City. ($10,000 – 15,000) |
| 4. Painting of Edwin Booth, American actor, 1833 – 1893, just after 100th performance of “Hamlet” by Hugo Svenson
Oil (bitumen) on canvas. Signed “Hugo Svenson” lower right corner (very faint), and marked by label on center bottom of frame “Edwin Booth.” Framed, 24 ½” x 22 ½” s.s., in good condition. Provenance: Minnesota Historical Society, Blanche DeBar Booth (Ophelia to Hamlet) ($8,000 – 10,000) Hugo Svenson has a studio in New York City. Blanche DeBar Booth, niece to Edwin, played Ophelia in the 100th performance of “Hamlet”. Edwin presented her with the portrait, and she in turn presented it to the Minnesota Historical Society |
| 5. Painting of Edwin Booth, American actor, 1833 – 1893, performing “Hamlet” at the age of 30, by Gabriel Harrison, along with cabinet photo of him.
Oil on canvas, full length portrait. Signed “Gabriel Harrison” and dated 1894 in lower left corner. (Harrison as an actor himself, though not considered greatly good.) Framed, 29 ¾” x 19 ¾” s.s. General crackling of surface, otherwise good condition. Provenance: Sankey Lemley, New York City, estate of Gabriel Harrison. ($7,000 – 10,000) |
| 308. John Wilkes Booth, actor, brother of Edwin Booth, and assassin of President Lincoln, 1839 – 1865 case with two canes.
One cane given to Booth by Laura Keene, 1826 – 1873, marked on a silver band, “John Wilkes Booth from Laura Keen [sic], 1865.” Ivory handle, 3 ½” x 1”, 32 ¾” long overall. Provenance: Mrs. E. Harrison Eudy and her mother ($5,000 – 10,000) |
| 313. Edwin Booth, 1833 – 1893, original oval oil portrait by John R. Johnston, one of Baltimore’s most famous portrait artists.
Mark on back, “Sitting From Life, Baltimore, 1851,” and signed. This handwriting has been documented as that of Johnston, who also painted Andrew Jackson and Franklin Pierce, to name a few. This portrait is believed to be a preliminary oil for a later portrait that was never done. Two letters of provenance accompany work. Framed in brass and glass, 13 ½” x 12”. ($2,000 – 3,000) |
| 315. Fireplace bellows from “Tudor Hall” and used in the original homestead of the Booth family in Belair, Maryland.
Wood, leather and metal, with a painted flower design on one side. 17 ½” high, 7 ½” wide, 2 ½” unextended depth. In good, well used condition. Provenance: Florence Williams, American actress, from member of family Elijah Rogers. ($1,800 – 2,000) |
| 316. Five cash books from Edwin Booth’s “Booth Theatre,” and one account pad.
Contains names of plays and dates, net receipts and expenditures (such as the cost of a carriage for Mr. Booth), and net profits for the years 1869, 1871 – 1874, 1876 and 1877. Every entry is initialed “J.H.M.,” by J. H. Magonigle, a theatre representative, or “J.A.B.,” by Joseph A. Booth, the youngest child. Conditions of bindings vary, but interiors are excellent. Minor child’s scribbling on a few blank pages, not affecting business contents. Pad of forms marked “Booth’s Theatre” contains date, performance, weather and fascinating remarks about actors and plays, such as “’Black Crook’ at Niblo’s good, Grand Opera House bad, opening night Bryant’s Opera House all the critics present.” The dates begin Sept. 4,1873 and end May 30, 1874, with hundreds of entries. The pad has some loose front pages, and a few of the last back pages are damp stained. Provenance: J. A. Booth ($1,500 – 2,000) |
320. Edwin Booth, John Wilkes Booth, J. B. Booth, Jr., playbill from the Booth benefit for the Shakespeare Statue Fund, Winter Garden Theatre, NYC.
This one-performance-only playbill is probably the rarest of all American playbills. The statue still stands in Central Park. The dedication program for the statue is also offered in this sale. Framed and matted under glass, 20 ¾” x 8 ¾”. ($1,000 – 1,500) |
| 325. Sydney Booth make-up box, marked across front in red, “Sydney Booth,” and “Theatre.”
Contains crepe hair, prepared mustaches, beards and sideburns, 5 shoe lifts, face powder, dry and moist rouge, rosin, rabbit’s foot, two pair scissors, collapsible drinking cup in a leather carrier, a brush, a collapsible coat hanger, a curling iron, hair color, corkscrew, and an 11-pocketed apron with additional make-up in compartments. Make-up box is plain black leather with intact handle, and attached to inside lid are his only child’s pink leather, lace trimmed baby slippers, 3 ½” x 2 ½”. Case measures 12” x 15 ½” x 7”. Very good condition. Provenance: Elizabeth Barton Booth, wearer of the baby boots. ($800 – 1,200) |
| 326. John Wilkes Booth playbill from “Macbeth,” Willard’s Howard Atheneum, Oct. 7, 1863.
Framed under glass, 19 ¼” x 7”. Excellent condition. ($750 – 1,000) |
| 330. John Wilkes Booth playbill from “Richard III,” Willard’s Howard Antheneum, Boston, Oct. 10, 1863.
Mounted in two portions and marked “Positively the last appearance of the popular young tragedian.” Above playbill is an 8-sided picture of John Wilkes Booth with his name mounted underneath. A faded assassination reward poster with Lincoln’s photo is mounted on reverse. Framed, 25 ¾” x 8 ¾”. ($650 – 850) |
| 603. Costume knee length, leather boots worn by Edwin Booth.
Very good condition. Provenance: Sydney Booth ($750 – 1,000) |
| 604. Portion of velvet braid stole worn by Edwin Booth as “Richelieu,” with a carte de visite of Booth as “Cardinal Richelieu.”
In a wooden case with glass cover, 11 ½” x 8”. Excellent condition. Provenance: Conway Barker, Charles Dominge. ($700 – 1,000) |
As I wrote two days ago, Edwin Booth was the target of an assassination attempt on April 23, 1879 while he was performing Richard II at McVicker’s Theatre in Chicago. Since two days ago was the anniversary of the attempt, I wanted to put up a quick post highlighting what I considered a mere piece of historical trivia. The more I looked into it though, I found myself quickly engulfed in a huge amount of information far beyond what I have read in books. My inspiration for this post was Nora Titone’s wonderfully done Edwin/John Wilkes Biography, My Thoughts Be Bloody which devotes a paragraph to the incident. While looking for a bit more background I read about the incident in Eleanor Ruggles’ Prince of Players and Stanley Kimmel’s The Mad Booths of Maryland. These sources gave about a page to the incident. I decided to look at the newspaper sources of the day, and it is from those that I was deluged with information. This attempt on Edwin’s life was a national story. The coverage on it all quickly reminded me of how talented and celebrated Edwin Booth truly was. We all know that newspapers take liberties with the truth from time to time and that we cannot trust them with certainly. Nevertheless, what follows is a look at the aftermath of the attempt on Edwin’s life and the fate of his assassin.
First allow me to summarize the scene of the assassination ttempt, this time pulling from newspaper sources, rather than the books mentioned above.
Edwin Booth was at McVicker’s Theatre in Chicago for an engagement. McVicker’s was owned by James H. McVicker, the step-father of Edwin’s second wife, Mary McVicker. She was backstage during that night’s performance. As always, the accounts of the day differ somewhat regarding what happened during the final act of Richard II. The lasts scenes of the act is set in the prison of Pomfret castle where King Richard is shown in prison, cut off from the world. The stage is darkened during this scene, with little more than a pale light masquerading as moonlight shining through a small grated window on the prison flat. Booth, as Richard, was sitting on stage soliloquizing of his isolation. Meanwhile, a man who sat in the second balcony about 30 feet from Booth, was removing a pistol he had concealed in his sleeve. In his left hand, he was said to be holding a copy of the play. He followed following along with Booth’s soliloquy, waiting for the right time to act. While speaking onstage, Booth heard a shot ring out. Booth and the audience remained unmoved; the audience thinking the anachronistic gunshot was the result of an error backstage and Booth thinking an accident prone cowboy had discharged his gun by mistake. When a second shot rang out about three seconds later, Booth arose (or was in the process of rising when the second shot happened) and proceeded to walk calmly towards the direction of the shots. Before walking off of the stage and into the audience, Booth pointed to the left hand upper gallery and men around the assailant grabbed at the man with the revolver, preventing him from firing again. Booth went into his dressing room to comfort his wife, Mary, who was in a state of great distress after hearing the shots.
Edwin Booth and his wife Mary McVicker
It was written that had it not been for the swift response from officers that the assailant would have been, “rather roughly handled” by the rest of the audience when they became aware of what had occurred. The man was seized by the officer of the theatre and James Morgan, a detective who was in the audience. Morgan put handcuffs on the man who gave him little resistance. As Morgan led the man to Chicago’s Central Station, he heard him say, “I don’t see how I happened to miss him,” and, “I am sorry that I didn’t take some lessons in pistol practice before I tried this thing.”
When searched at Central Station, a .32 caliber “True Blue” revolver with three loaded chambers and two chambers containing exploded shells was found on him. Along with some trivial items (scissors, pawn ticket, pocket knife) the man was found to have a stub for a seat at McVicker’s from the night before, April 22nd. In addition, the man had this letter on him:
“Chicago, April 22, 1879.
Dear Katie:
Forgive these brief but horrible lines, I left St. Louis Monday evening. The firm I was with would not increase my salary, so I made up my mind to return to Keokuk, but being a lover of fine acting I came to Chicago to see Booth, but I was sadly mistaken. It would take Booth one year of constant acting to compete with Lawrence Barrett’s Richelieu. Tonight he plays Richard II. Katie, if I go tonight he will kill me or I will him. In all Shakespeare’s works I find but one man to compete with Booth, and that is Iago. My judgment ought to foretell me that since I call Booth Iago he could no more play Richelieu than the devil could be an angel. I don’t know what to do. Every line I write I prance the floor as though I was playing Hamlet. I’m sorry I came here, for I think the hangman has a rope for me. Remember me to your mother and sister.”
The man had seen Edwin Booth act before, and seemingly did not believe he was worthy of any of his accolades. The letter was signed, “Yours Truly, Mark Gray”. The name of the failed assassin was known.
When asked, he refused to state his reasons for wanting to kill Edwin Booth, but claimed that when they were made known, they would be deemed sufficient to all.
The next morning, April 24th, Edwin Booth was present when Mark Gray was taken before a judge:
It was found that Gray had purchased the revolver used in the shooting only the day before and clearly showed no skill as to its use. Mark Gray was a young man, 26 years of age (though he stated to police he was 23) and was said to bear a striking resemblance to Edwin Booth if not for his mustache.
Theories abounded regarding Gray’s motive behind his attempted assassination of Edwin. Gray’s own ambiguity when questioned only fueled the fire in the nation’s newspapers. Here are a few published theories for the attempt on Booth’s life, some serious, others humorous:
While people hypothesized about Gray’s motives, more information was being found regarding his background and character:
Finding no answers in the newspaper accounts and the interviews others had with Gray, Edwin Booth decided to meet with Gray himself and ask him what drove his attempt on his life:
Perhaps desiring the attention for a longer period of time, Gray did not reveal his reasons to Booth at this time.
On May 6th, Mark Gray was brought into court for arraignment and gave a surprising plea:
Wanting to make sure Edwin Booth was present for the proceedings of the trial before departing Chicago for his next engagement, the pendulum of justice moved swiftly for Mark Gray. On May 10th his trial began, and it was here that he finally revealed his reasoning for attempting to kill Edwin Booth.
The mere word “mark”, recited by Edwin Booth as Richelieu and King Richard was the cause for his misery. The vocalization of this simple English word which is a homograph for a name, and the way in which Booth portrayed his characters, incensed Mark Gray to the point of madness. As stated, Gray was immediately sent to the Northern Illinois Hospital and Asylum for the Insane in Elgin, IL.
Though Gray was locked away, Edwin Booth kept a cautious eye on his would be assassin and wrote the following note to a Chicago attorney a month after Gray was put in the Elgin asylum:
“I trust that our friend Gray may become gray indeed – yea postiviely hoary-headed – in kind but careful confinement, or if earlier released, that his exit may be from this earthly stage of his dramatic exploits to that celestial scene where idiots cease from shooting and actors are at rest. If he be ever again at liberty my own life I shall not value worth a rush. But I hope the Elgin guardians will not be deceived by his seeming helplessness.”
Edwin Booth would be able to sleep easy for a little over three years. Then, in October of 1882, Mark Gray’s friends made a plea for his release:
On November 6th, 1882, Gray was successful in his plea:
Though I have not been able to find an account of Edwin’s reaction to the release of his would be assassin, we can surmise that he was not pleased by the relatively short amount of time Mark Gray spent locked up.
In a worrisome sign of mental relapse, Gray jumped into the spotlight again trying to cash in on his infamy:
If Gray ever did play Hamlet, it was just to his neighbors in Keokuk, Iowa. For many years, Mark Gray was forgotten. When Edwin Booth died of natural causes in 1893, Gray’s attempt was mentioned in a sentence on various newspaper biographies on his life. Just a little over 10 years later, in May of 1904, Mark Gray Lyon died at the age of 51. While Booth’s obituaries contained mentions of Mark Gray, there was a distinct lack of Booth in Mark Gray’s official obituary:
Unsurprisingly a bachelor his whole life, Mark Gray was buried with his sister and her husband in the Catholic section of Keokuk’s Oakland Cemetery. If any of you are ever in the area, Gray is buried there in Section KK, Lot 19 and I’d love a picture of his gravestone if he has one.
To me Mark Gray Lyon is Edwin Booth’s Mark David Chapman. Gray wanted the fame and life of Edwin Booth. He tried to convince others and himself that he was Edwin Booth’s son. He wanted to be a star of the stage and resented Edwin for the success he had. After the shooting that night in 1879, Edwin Booth returned to the stage and finished Richard II. James McVicker found one of the bullets behind one of the stage flats it had passed through and he gave it to Edwin Booth. Booth later had it set in a gold cartridge and engraved upon it, “From Mark Gray to Edwin Booth, April 23, 1879.” Edwin was above all else, a devoted tragedian and, as history shows, nothing could keep him off that stage for long:
References:
My Thoughts Be Bloody by Nora Titone
Prince of Players by Eleanor Ruggles
The Mad Booths of Maryland by Stanley Kimmel
The Staff of the Keokuk Public Library
Countless newspaper articles garnered from GenealogyBank.com
On this date, April 23rd, in 1879, Edwin Booth performed Richard II at McVicker’s Theatre in Chicago.
Edwin Booth in 1879
While performing the final solioquy of Richard II on Shakespeare’s birthday, Edwin altered his normal practice of sitting throughout the speech and for no clear reason felt compelled to stand.
“He leaned himself over to steady himself as he got up. As he did so, a bullet whizzed over his head. Another shot was fired, and looking up, he saw a man standing in the gallery, pistol in hand, ready to pull the trigger once more, had he not been prevented by several persons from behind who seized his arms. Edwin walked calmly to the front of the stage, pointed him out, and cried, ‘Arrest that man!’ For a few moments, the audience was panic-striken, but was quieted after the would-be-murderer had been taken from the house. Edwin addressed them, saying he wished to speak with his wife who was backstage and would then finish the performance.”
The Booth family was shaken by the events at McVicker’s and may have believed the attempt on Edwin’s life was a latent revenge act for Wilkes’ assassination of Lincoln.
Stay tuned for more to come about the culprit behind this attempt on Edwin Booth’s life…
References:
The Mad Booths of Maryland by Stanley Kimmel
Yesterday, April 20, marked the 188th anniversary of the debut of a new play on the American stage. Though practically forgotten today, the tragedy Ugolino debuted yesterday in 1825. The story is a dark one. The main character, Ugolino, is a passionate man who has lost all sense of reason due to his love for Angelica. When he finds that Angelica’s heart is desired by another man, the Marquis di Serassi, he kills this rival beau in a jealous rage. Overcome with madness, he slays his own beloved Angelica before regaining his senses. Ugolino, while clutching Angelica’s bleeding corpse to his chest, demands of the audience:
“Was it not well done? Look here! She loved me… and I killed her!”
While overwrought with his own grief and guilt, Ugolino is questioned by angry Venetians. “Accursed wretch,” they cry, “What moved thee to act?” Ugolino answers with:
“What mov’d me to it? To murder him who sacrificed my peace?
This was the crowning crime! This was Hell’s greatest triumph
…Dost thou not know me? Tis Despair
From the abyss of ever-burning Hell,
Where on the footstool of the great fiend’s throne,
I sit and form dark snares for wavering souls!”
Ugolino, in his final scene of this bloody drama, steps forward, his sword upraised, ready to plunge the blade into his chest, and shrieks, “Come my bride…to Hell’s center! In my heart I plunge this reeking sword!” The play ends with Ugolino’s suicide.
The original debut on April 20, 1825 was at Philadelphia’s Arch Street Theatre and was a benefit for Mr. Henry Wallack, with him and his wife playing Ugolino and Angelica.
Henry Wallack
Of the play, one critic wrote:
“Ugolino,” [is] one of the best productions of the modern stage, a work possessing great poetry of diction and nervousness of style… This play is published, easily accessible, and worthy a place in every library.”
Though celebrated by some, Ugolino did not become a house hold name. From its initial April 20, 1825 debut onward, it was produced quite sparingly. In the years that followed, the actor John Randolph Scott seemed to be the only one who made it part of his repertoire.
John Randolph Scott
It was performed by Scott at the Bowery Theatre and Chatham Theatre in New York City. When J. R. Scott died in 1856, the play saw even less exposure.
Therefore when the young tragedian John Wilkes Booth decided to use Ugolino as his benefit piece for the end of his Boston Museum run in March of 1864, you can understand why this Boston Daily Evening reporter had never heard of it:
John Wilkes was not the first Booth to perform in Ugolino. In December of 1849, Clementine DeBar Booth, the first wife of Junius Brutus Booth, Jr., performed the play alongside J. R. Scott at Howard’s Athenaeum in Boston.
While John Wilkes did choose to perform Ugolino as a benefit due to a family connection, it was not this coincidental connection to his former sister-in-law. Rather, John Wilkes Booth decided to perform the little known play Ugolino because of his connection to the playwright. Ugolino was written by his father, Junius Brutus Booth, Sr.
Junius Brutus Booth, Sr.
Ugolino is believed to be the only play that Junius Brutus Booth, arguably the best tragedian of his generation, ever wrote. What’s more, I have yet to find any source saying that Junius performed in or even had a chance to see his own work on stage. When Wallack put it on as a benefit in Philadelphia in 1825, Junius was performing in Baltimore. When Junius’ friend J. R. Scott was reviving it in New York during September of 1834, Junius was himself busy performing elsewhere. If Junius had the chance to attend one of the rare dramatizations of his work, it does not appear to be documented.
Despite the positive critiques of the play, I think it is safe to say that those reviewing Ugolino were more in awe of its creator than his product. In her book, My Thoughts Be Bloody, author Nora Titone describes Ugolino as a “blood bath”. Junius Brutus Booth’s biographer, Stephen Archer, stated that Ugolino, “was in the flamboyant tradition of the times,” but, “failed to win a lasting place on American stages.”
Despite its violence and bloodshed however, Junius Brutus Booth’s masterpiece still contains some touchingly poetic lines:
“Let us part,
Since part we must, like brothers and like friends,
Who bent on travel, thus dividing stray,
As Fortune or as Fancy leads the way,
Far off, yet not forgotten, though apart,
Dwelling together in each other’s heart.”
Though time robs us of experiencing Junius Brutus Booth’s true theatrical gifts first hand, these few lines are a fitting self-epitaph to his effect on theatre history.
References:
Junius Brutus Booth: Theatrical Prometheus by Stephen Archer (1992)
My Thoughts Be Bloody by Nora Titone (2010)
A Record of the Boston Stage by William W. Clapp, Jr. (1853)
Genealogybank.com
Parker House, Boston, 7 o’clock, a.m.
Saturday, April 15, 1865.Edwin Booth, Esq.
My Dear Sir: A fearful calamity is upon us. The President of the United States has fallen by the hand of an assassin, and I am shocked to say suspicion points to one nearly related to you as the perpetrator of this horrid deed. God grant it may not prove so! With this knowledge, and out of respect to the anguish which will fill the public mind as soon as the appalling fact shall be fully revealed, I have concluded to close the Boston theatre until further notice. Please signify to me your co-operation in this matter.In great sorrow, and in haste,
I remain, yours very truly,
Henry C. Jarrett.
Franklin Square, Boston, April 15,1865.
Henry C. Jarrett, Esq.
My Dear Sir: With deepest sorrow and great agitation, I thank you for relieving me from my engagement with yourself and the public. The news of the morning has made me wretched indeed, not only because I have received the unhappy tidings of the suspicions of a brother’s crime, but because a good man, and a most justly honoured and patriotic ruler, has fallen, in an hour of national joy, by the hand of an assassin. The memory of the thousands who have fallen in the field, in our country’s defence, during this struggle, cannot be forgotten by me, even in this, the most distressing day of my life. And I most sincerely pray that the victories we have already won may stay the brand of war and the tide of loyal blood. While mourning, in common with all other loyal hearts, the death of the President, I am oppressed by a private woe not to be expressed in words. But whatever calamity may befall me and mine, my country, one and indivisible, has my warmest devotion.
Edwin Booth
References:
Life and Art of Edwin Booth by William Winter
Yesterday morning, friend and frequent commenter on the site, Carolyn Mitchell, posted a new picture to the Spirits of Tudor Hall Facebook page. The image came from the book John Wilkes Booth Himself by Richard and Kellie Gutman. In this 1979 publication limited to just 1,000 books, the Gutmans compiled all the images of John Wilkes Booth that were known at the time. Their first one, labeled Gutman #1, is as follows:
Gutman #1
This image is captioned in John Wilkes Booth Himself with the following: “The earliest known photograph of John Wilkes Booth is a head and shoulders vignette, depicting him at age 18. One copy exists as a carte de visite done by Mansfield’s City Gallery, St. Louis, Missouri. In all likelihood, this is not the original photographer or photograph. John Wilkes Booth turned 18 on May 10, 1856-and that year is a bit early for a carte de visite in the United States. This may have been copied from another form of photograph (daguerreotype, ambrotype or tintype) or a larger paper print. In any event, copies of this picture are very rare. It has been published only one time, in Album of the Lincoln Murder (Harrisburg, PA.: Stackpole Books, 1965).”
Armed with this information, Carolyn posted the photograph like so many other rare and unique views of the Booth family she has come across.
Very quickly though, people started to express their doubts that this was a picture of Booth. Some said it could be of one of the other Booth brothers like Edwin or Joseph. I long ago questioned the identity of the young man in this particular photo, too. At the time of writing this, there were 15 responses to this photo on the Facebook page. After receiving an email from a colleague trying to remember a previous discussion regarding this photo, I decided to post here about it.
As far as I know, part of the description from the Gutmans is correct in that there is only one copy of this carte-de-visite known to exist. It is in the National Archives in their Lincoln Assassination Suspects file. Here is the microfilmed quality version of this CDV:
The CDV itself was found among Booth’s papers and files in the National Hotel after the assassination. It was deemed not relevant to the investigation but still retained in the government’s files. This probably explains the Gutman’s desire to include this picture in their collection of Booth photos. It was found with his things, does not bear any writing precluding it from being Booth, and has some similarities to the young tragedian turned assassin. Stating it is of a young Booth makes it easier to ignore some of the discrepancies in appearance.
Not everyone, however took the identification by the Gutmans at face value on this one. In the book, The Lincoln Assassination: The Evidence by William Edwards and Edward Steers, Jr., and in Steers’ The Lincoln Assassination Encyclopedia, this photograph is identifed as being Benedict “Ben” DeBar. Ben Debar was a theatre owner and actor. Junius Brutus Booth, Jr., JWB’s brother, married Ben’s sister, Clementine DeBar and they had a daughter together Blanche. June abandoned Clementine and Blanche, running off to California with a prostitue named Harriet Mace. Ben filed for a divorce on behalf of his sister and adopted Blanche as his own. John Wilkes assumedly still cared for his niece, as in his papers at the National, there is a letter from Ben DeBar extolling young Blanche’s early success as an actress. Attaching newspaper clippings and a playbill bearing the name “Blanche DeBar”, Ben brags to JWB, “I have sent June a bill to prove to him I have no wish that the girl should have any other than my name.”
The reason Steers and Edwards claim that this image, Gutman #1, is of Ben DeBar is because this image is microfilmed right alongside of the materials from Ben DeBar. Sandwiched right next to a newspaper clipping of Blanche’s success and a playbill announcing her performance in the comedy “Love Chase”, is this image. While the letter from Ben does not mention a photograph, its placement with the other materials seems to point that is from him.
The problem is, however, that Ben DeBar was quite a bit older than the young lad in the picture. DeBar was born in 1821 and at the time of his writing in March of 1865 would have made him about 44 years old. Here’s a picture of Ben Debar taken around 1870 for comparison:
Ben DeBar
So while Steers and Edwards’ theory that Gutman #1 is Ben DeBar makes sense in the context of the image’s placement in the microfilmed files, the difference in ages and appearances makes it as unlikely as the photograph being of Booth.
Thus far, the most logical and probable explanation of who this individual is comes from the authors John Rhodehamel and Louise Taper who edited the book, “Right or Wrong, God Judge Me”: The Writing of John Wilkes Booth. They put forward that the man on this CDV was a young clerk working for General Grant’s office named Richard Marshall Johnson.
From Booth’s papers at the National we find that he did have a letter from Richard M. Johnson. Dated February 18th, 1865, Johnson writes in part, “I may be vain in presuming that our brief Memphis acquaintance has made us friends, but on my part it has…” Johnson recounts their initial meeting during which Johnson was drinking away his sorrows over the death of a friend. Booth befriended the young Union officer and evidently made quite the impression on him. Johnson asks Booth about his oil ventures and gives him the “riot act” for not acting this season. “You have too fine a reputation in this part of the country to let a winter pass away without giving us a call,” Johnson explains. The remaining part of the letter is of a request Johnson has of Booth:
“By the way, send me another of your photographs with your autograph on it. The one you sent me from New Orleans was disposed of rather strangely. A young lady of rare accomplishments and talent asked me for it. I refused the gift. She insisted and I proposed to get her a fine picture of you, but she wanted the one with your autograph. She has seen you frequently and was deteremined to have it. After much persuasion, I concluded to let her have it intending to write you for another. I gave it to her with the promise that when you visited this city I would take you to call on her. Today she sleeps in Bellefontaine Cemetery having died shortly after I gave her the picture. When I visit her family and see her album I see the name of J. Wilkes Booth written at the bottom of your photograph and think of the unfulfilled promise that she should know you. Your picture will always remain in the album as the touch she gave it in placing it there is now considered sacred. She was a woman of rare and beautiful excellence.”
While, as you can see, there is much talk in this letter of Booth’s photograph, Johnson never mentions sending one of himself to Booth. The evidence for that lies in a letter from Booth to Johnson that is housed at the Huntington Library. In the portion of letter above, Johnson mentions the photograph Booth sent him, “from New Orleans”. The letter from Booth to Edward Johnson is dated almost a year before the above letter on March 28th, of 1864 and states the following:
“Dear Johnson
Yours of the 12th; recd:. I am glad to find that you have not forgotten me, and hope I may ever live in your generous remembrance. I enclose in this a picture of myself, better (I think) than the one I gave you.
This of you I will ever keep among my very few and chosen friends. Excuse the shortness of this, am in haste. I am your’s
J. Wilkes Booth”
It is in this letter that Booth attached a photograph of himself – the same one that Richard Johnson later gave to the lady mentioned before.
The most interesting thing about this letter from the Huntington Library however, is the second paragraph which starts, “This of you”. Booth is speaking of his receipt of a picture from Richard Johnson. This, according to Rhodehamel and Taper, is the photograph found in Booth’s papers at the National Hotel.
According to his newspaper obituary, upon his in 1922 Richard Marshall Johnson was, “about 80” years old. This would put his year of birth about 1842, making him around 22 years old when he was corresponding with Booth in 1864 and 1865. This age range better matches the age of the young man in the photograph more than a 44 year old Ben DeBar does.
The paper evidence is strong for this picture to be of Richard M. Johnson. We know the following facts: Booth corresponded with Johnson and sent him photographs of himself. In turn, Booth received a photograph from Johnson in 1864. Booth had a more recent letter from Johnson in his papers when he assassinated Lincoln in 1865. Richard Johnson’s age during the time of his interactions with Booth match the apparent age of the man in the photograph. Based on this documentary evidence alone, I’m confident this picture is of Richard M. Johnson. But I’m not through yet.
Richard Johnson had an interesting life as this short bio will demonstrate:
“RICHARD M. JOHNSON was born in Illinois in the city of Belleville. He received his early education in McKendree College. Coming to St. Louis in 1858, he read law in the office of his brother, Governor [Charles P.] Johnson. In 1861 he was appointed a clerk in the Postoffice Department, and in 1862 was tendered a position as chief corresponding clerk in General Grant’s headquarters, under Quartermaster Colonel Chas. A. Reynolds. In 1865 he was appointed Superintendent of the State Tobacco Warehouse by Governor Fletcher. He was married to Miss Annie Blow, daughter of Taylor Blow of St. Louis, in 1866. Appointed by General Grant in 1867 as Post Trader at Fort Dodge, Kan., and in 1869 he accepted an appointment tendered him by General Grant as Consul to Han Kow, China, which office he held with credit for eight years. Two of Colonel Johnson’s children were born in China. He returned to the United States and resumed the practice of law in 1877. He was elected Assistant Prosecuting Attorney in 1894, and was again elected in 1898, and while he has always been active in politics as a Republican, he numbers among his friends, regardless of political affiliations, as many Democrats as Republicans.”
In 1904, Johnson provided a chapter for the book, “Reminiscences by Personal Friends of Gen. U. S. Grant” recounting his friendship and experiences with General Grant. His stories of Grant are very interesting ones and can be read in full here. In addition to the biography from above, the book also features a picture of Richard M. Johnson:
Richard M. Johnson
We all know photographs are subjective to the viewer. The Gutmans wanted this picture of a young man to be Booth and so they saw Booth in it. It could just be that I want this photo to be of Johnson because there is so much paper evidence supporting it, but I say these images show the same man, 40 years apart.
As far as Gutman #1 is concerned, I support Rhodehamel and Taper and say it is Richard Marshall Johnson.
References:
The Evidence by Edwards and Steers
John Wilkes Booth Himself by Richard and Kellie Gutman
“Right or Wrong, God Judge Me” by Rhodehamel and Taper
Reminiscences by Personal Friends of Gen. U. S. Grant
Fold3.com
Note: There may be more images of Richard Johnson for compariosn contained in the Missouri History Museum. They have a collection of diaries and scrapbooks attributed to R. M. Johnson.
Note: R. M. Johnson is buried in the same cemetery as the lady who wanted Booth’s photograph, Bellafontaine Cemetery in St. Louis.
Thanks for the great topic starter, Carolyn!
“The box was taken into Harvey and Marr’s workshop by assistants, among whom was a volunteer, James Croggon, reporter for the Star. Harvey had said to Croggon: ‘Don’t ask any questions, but be at our place at six o’clock this evening as one of my assistants, and you will get a good item.’ Croggon was there, helped to lay the box on trestles, and watched as the body was identified for the third time. He saw Weaver lift the head and examine it- it still had the ‘fine suit of hair,’ distinctive as in life. He saw a man enter from the office and intently study the teeth, heard him announce with emphasis: ‘This is Wilkes Booth, for this is some of my work.’ It was a dentist from Baltimore, whose opinion had been sought in the case. The reporter also saw a high boot on one leg and on one a rough shoe which he mistakenly thought had been improvised by cutting away the other boot’s long top. He understood that a brother of John’s was in Harvey and Marr’s front room. It was not Edwin, as he supposed, but ‘Doc’ Booth, awaiting the reports of Weaver and the dentist.
Shifted to a plain deal coffin, the body was conveyed to the train leaving Washington at seven-thirty and reaching Baltimore at nine. From the train it was removed to Weaver’s on Fayette Street, and that night John T. Ford, who had been keeping general oversight of the matter, sent a telegram marked ‘Deliver tonight sure.’ It read (as delivered):
Balto Md Feb 15 1869
Edwin Booth
Booths Theatre N YSuccessful and in our possession here –
J T Ford
Edwin saved this message in his files, and on the reverse of the blank he penciled: ‘John’s body.’”
References:
The Great American Myth by George Bryan
On this date, January 3rd, in 1866, famed tradegian Edwin Booth returns to the stage for the first time since his brother’s crime.
After Lincoln’s assassination Edwin had vowed to end his theatrical careeer forever. However, the allure of the stage was too much for the actor. Edwin’s return appearance as Hamlet at the Winter Garden Theatre envoked an ovation of applause and cheers that lasted four full minutes. The theater going public never blamed him for his brother’s act, and continued to support him for the next twenty five years.
Edwin Booth reciting part of Othello Act I, Scene III:
“Most potent, grave, and reverend signiors,
My very noble and approved good masters,
That I have ta’en away this old man’s daughter,
It is most true; true, I have married her:
The very head and front of my offending
Hath this extent, no more. Rude am I in my speech,
And little bless’d with the soft phrase of peace:
For since these arms of mine had seven years’ pith,
Till now some nine moons wasted, they have used
Their dearest action in the tented field,
And little of this great world can I speak,
More than pertains to feats of broil and battle,
And therefore little shall I grace my cause
In speaking for myself. Yet, by your gracious patience,
I will a round unvarnish’d tale deliver
Of my whole course of love; what drugs, what charms,
What conjuration and what mighty magic,
For such proceeding I am charged withal,
I won his daughter.”Then Booth skips some dialog from other characters
and finishes with:“Her father loved me; oft invited me;
Still question’d me the story of my life,
From year to year, the battles, sieges, fortunes,
That I have passed.
I ran it through, even from my boyish days,
To the very moment that he bade me tell it;
Wherein I spake of most disastrous chances,
Of moving accidents by flood and field
Of hair-breadth scapes i’ the imminent deadly breach,
Of being taken by the insolent foe
And sold to slavery, of my redemption thence
And portance in my travels’ history:
Wherein of antres vast and deserts idle,
Rough quarries, rocks and hills whose heads touch heaven
It was my hint to speak,–such was the process;
And of the Cannibals that each other eat,
The Anthropophagi and men whose heads
Do grow beneath their shoulders. This to hear
Would Desdemona seriously incline:
But still the house-affairs would draw her thence:
Which ever as she could with haste dispatch,
She’ld come again, and with a greedy ear
Devour up my discourse: which I observing,
Took once a pliant hour, and found good means
To draw from her a prayer of earnest heart
That I would all my pilgrimage dilate,
Whereof by parcels she had something heard,
But not intentively: I did consent,
And often did beguile her of her tears,
When I did speak of some distressful stroke
That my youth suffer’d. My story being done,
She gave me for my pains a world of sighs:
She swore, in faith, twas strange, ’twas passing strange,
‘Twas pitiful, ’twas wondrous pitiful:
She wish’d she had not heard it, yet she wish’d
That heaven had made her such a man: she thank’d me,
And bade me, if I had a friend that loved her,
I should but teach him how to tell my story.
And that would woo her. Upon this hint I spake:
She loved me for the dangers I had pass’d,
And I loved her that she did pity them.”
References:
My Thoughts Be Bloody: The Bitter Rivalry Between Edwin and John Wilkes Booth that Led to an American Tragedy by Nora Titone (2010) Page 374
Sound recording of Edwin Booth and transcript from Archive.org
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