Yearly Archives: 2012

The Nine Lives of Sam Arnold

Posted on June 22, 2012 by Dave Taylor

Samuel Bland Arnold was born on September 6, 1834 to Benedict “George” and Mary (Bland) Arnold.  In his early days, he and his brother William attended St. Timothy’s Hall, a military academy in Catonsville, MD.  St. Timothy’s was a firm school requiring the students to wear steel-grey uniforms and maintain strict military discipline.  In 1852, Sam and Billy became introduced to a fellow student, John Wilkes Booth.  Booth was not the best of students, fighting against the regimental nature of the school.  The death of John’s father in November of 1852 put an end to his time at St. Timothy’s.  Sam, on the other hand learned well from his time at the academy.  When John Wilkes Booth was developing his career as an actor, Sam signed up for service in the Confederate States of America.  He joined the First Maryland Infantry in 1861 before he was discharged for illness.  He later joined another brother, George, who was serving in the Nitre and Mining Bureau in Georgia.  He left this position in early 1864 to care for his ailing mother in Baltimore.  In August of 1864, John Wilkes Booth happened to run into his old schoolmate, William Arnold in Washington, D.C.  William said that his brother Sam, a veteran of the CSA, was also in D.C. at the time, and he arranged a meeting with him and Booth.

The two old schoolmates quickly rekindled their friendship over drinks.  During their meeting, another of Booth’s childhood friends, Michael O’Laughlen, appeared, having been invited by Booth.   After a bit, Booth brought the two men into his confidence about his plan to abduct President Lincoln and hold him for ransom.  Arnold and O’Laughlen, both influenced by and sharing in Booth’s dream for a drastic turn in the war, pledged themselves to help Booth fulfill his goal.  This support in the kidnapping plot and an ambiguous letter from Sam found in Booth’s room would prove his undoing.  After the assassination, Sam Arnold was sentenced to life imprisonment at Fort Jefferson, Dry Tortugas.

Fast forward 37 years later.  Arnold was pardoned in 1869 after four years of the most grueling imprisonment possible.  From his day of release, he lived a quiet, reserved life away from public eye.  He denied interviews at every turn.  Then on October 7th, 1902, Sam Arnold died…kind of:

As this article states, Arnold had promised to release a statement regarding his involvement upon his death.  As of a few days later, however, no newspapers had been able uncover any such statement.  The reason for this was discovered by another newspaper that reported the following:

Yes, it appears that the Samuel Arnold that died on October 7th was not the Sam Arnold involved in the conspiracy.  Rather he was just a man that shared the same name as the conspirator.  As Osborn Oldroyd had written, the real Sam Arnold had already died.  He did so quietly and without any statement having been released upon his death.  And so the world was left without ever hearing the words of the last Lincoln conspirator tried by military tribunal in 1865.

All of this breaking news about Sam Arnold’s death proved confusing to a 68 year-old resident of Friendship, MD.

As he read the many obituaries about the Lincoln conspirator, he saw how the newspapers continually perpetrated the same misconceptions and injustices of years past.  Finally, he had seen enough.  This man decided to change his previous arrangement regarding telling his story.  The real, and very much alive, Samuel Bland Arnold decided to release his account:

Arnold’s account became a daily column for two weeks in many national newspapers.  Most of his account detailed his imprisonment at Dry Tortugas.  In 1995, author Michael Kauffman reprinted the account as the book Memoirs of a Lincoln Conspirator.  It is an essential, albeit biased, version of the conspiracy that led to Lincoln’s assassination.

The real Sam Arnold actually died on September 21, 1906 at the home of his sister-in-law Helen Arnold.  He is buried in Greenmount Cemetery in Baltimore.  His nondescript “Arnold” stone rests in the same cemetery as John Wilkes Booth and Michael O’Laughlen, recreating his visit with the two men so many years before.

Post Script – Even after the mistakes that were made when the other Sam Arnold died, the press still made mistakes when the real one passed on.  For example, did you know the conspirators were imprisoned in Hawaii?

References:
My Thoughts Be Bloody by Nora Titone
American Brutus by Michael Kauffman
Memoirs of a Lincoln Conspirator by Michael Kauffman
Newspaper accounts retrieved from Genealogybank.com

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“An old codger like me”

Posted on June 20, 2012 by Dave Taylor

Today, my grandfather celebrates his 94th birthday.  The son of an Irish immigrant and his Illinois born wife, my grandfather was educated at Illinois Wesleyan University, served as a Captain in the Marines during WWII and Korea, and raised a family of three boys with my grandmother.  To me though, he has always been Umpa: the devoted church going grandfather who would take me fishing and was always working his garden.  I never knew until I was older that he was a Marine and while he would openly tell me stories about the war, it always brought tears to his eyes.  My grandfather taught me that war was always a regrettable thing even when it is justified.  He was proud of his service to his country but would never glorify what he had experienced.  Nowadays, his life has slowed down quite a bit.  He talks less, sleeps more, but is still the kind and inquisitive grandfather I’ve always known.  Unfortunately, he will be spending this birthday in the hospital.  I’ve logged about 18 hours with him over the last two days after a recent medical setback.  As a 94 year-old, it is to be expected.  Nevertheless, he still enjoys sharing one fact about his life with the nurses that always throws them for a loop.  When asked where he was born, he answers truthfully, “Nani-Tal, India”.  The nurses briefly stare at him, before turning to us, his family members, with a worried look that this characteristically Caucasian man has gone senile.  We of course respond in the affirmative, and recall how his parents were missionaries and that he and two of his siblings were born in India.  My grandfather was almost three years old, when the family returned to America.  His memory of India is now just a few Christian hymns in the Hindi language that he sang as a child.   Nevertheless, he can still recall all the lyrics to “Jesus Loves Me” in Hindi.

My 94 year-old grandfather’s ability to remember one of his earliest experiences, mirrors that of another 94 year-old man who recounted his experience of Lincoln’s assassination.

Many of us have seen the following episode of the TV show, I’ve Got a Secret which aired on February 9th, 1956.  In it, the American viewing audience is presented with the last surviving witness to Abraham Lincoln’s assassination, 96 year-old Samuel J. Seymour of Baltimore. You will want to fast forward to the 11:57 mark in the video below

In the video, the host mentions that they learned about Mr. Seymour due to an article written by him in The American Weekly magazine.  That article was published on February 7th of 1954, when Samuel Seymour was 94 years old.

After some searching, I found the original article by Mr. Seymour and transcribed it from the newspaper record.  Here it is in full:

“I Saw Lincoln Shot

By Samuel J. Seymour

As told to Frances Spatz Leighton

The only living witness re-creates the drama of that tragic night

This is an eyewitness account of one of history’s great tragedies – the assassination of Abraham Lincoln – told by the only living witness to the fateful drama enacted at Ford’s Theater on the night of April 14th, 1865 – THE EDITORS

Even if I were to live another 94 years, I’d still never forget my first trip away from home as a little shaver five years old.

My father was overseer on the Goldsboro estate inTalbot County, Maryland, and it seems that he and Mr. Goldsboro has to go to Washington on business – something to do with the legal status of their 150 slaves.  Mrs. Goldsboro asked if she couldn’t take me and my nurse, Sarah Cook, along with her and the men, for a little holiday.

We made the 150-mile trip by coach and team and I remember how stubborn those horses were about being loaded onto an old fashioned side-wheeler steamboat for part of the journey.

It was going on toward supper time – on Good Friday, April 14th, 1865 – when we finally pulled up in front of the biggest house I ever had seen.  It looked to me like a thousand farmhouses all pushed together, but my father said it was a hotel.

I was scared.  I had seen men with guns, all along the street, and every gun seemed to be aimed right at me.  I was too little to realize that all of Washington was getting ready to celebrate because Lee has surrendered a few days earlier.

I complained tearfully that I couldn’t get out of the coach because my shirt was torn – anything to delay the dread moment – but Sarah dug into her bag and found a big safety pin.

“You hold still now, Sammy,” she said, “and I’ll fix the tear right away.”  I shook so hard, from fright, that she accidentally stabbed me with the  pin and I hollered, “I’ve been shot!  I’ve been shot!”

When I finally had been rushed upstairs, shushed and scrubbed and put into fresh clothes, Mrs. Goldsboro said she had a wonderful surprise.

“Sammy, you and Sarah and I are going to a play tonight,” she explained.  “A real play – and President Abraham Lincoln will be there.”

I thought a play would be a game like tag and I liked the idea.  We waited a while outside the Ford Theater for tickets, then walked upstairs and sat in hard rattan-backed chairs.

Mrs. Goldsboro pointed directly across the theater to a colorfully draped box.  “See those flags, Sammy?” she asked.  “That’s where President Lincoln will sit.”  When he finally did come in, she lifted me high so I could see.  He was a tall, stern-looking man.  I guess I just thought he looked stern because of his whiskers, because he was smiling and waving to the crowd.

When everyone sat down again and the actors started moving and talking, I began to get over the scared feeling I’d had ever since we arrived inWashington.  But that was something I never should have done.

All of a sudden a shot rang out – a shot that always will be remembered – and someone in the President’s box screamed.  I sawLincolnslumped forward in his seat.  People started milling around and I thought there’d been another accident when one man seemed to tumble over the balcony rail and land on the stage.

“Hurry, hurry, let’s go help the poor man who fell down,” I begged.

But by that time John Wilkes Booth, the assassin, had picked himself up and was running for dear life.  He wasn’t caught until 12 days later when he was tracked to a barn where he was hiding.

Only a few people noticed the running man, but pandemonium broke loose in the theater, with everyone shouting:

“Lincoln’s shot! The President’s dead!”

Mrs. Goldsboro swept me into her arms and held me close and somehow we got outside the theater.  That night I was shot 50 times, at least in my dreams – and I sometimes still relive the horror of Lincoln’s assassination, dozing in my rocker as an old codger like me is bound to do.”

Of the many firsthand accounts given in books (like We Saw Lincoln Shot by Timothy Good) I prefer this one by Mr. Seymour.  There is an innocence in his account that can’t be found anywhere else.  While Major Rathbone and others give more details regarding the actual event, young “Sammy” gives a unique perspective.  We become more connected to this child and his young life.  We can empathize in his sense of uncertain fear and even feel the disappointment he must have had when he experienced what a “play” truly was.  Most of all, I marvel at Sammy’s kindness and compassion.  Ignorant of the context of what had occurred, this boy only wanted to help the man that fell.

Mr. Seymour died two months after his appearance on I’ve Got a Secret, possibly related to his fall the day before the show.  He died on April 13th, 1956, just a day shy of the anniversary of the event he witnessed.  Mr. Seymour is buried in Loudon Park Cemetery in Baltimore, MD.

References:
We Saw Lincoln Shot by Timothy Good
Mr. Seymour’s article in The American Weekly
Roger Norton’s Abraham Lincoln’s Assassination Research Site has a nice picture of Mr. Seymour

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The Marking of Frederick Aiken’s Grave

Posted on June 16, 2012 by Dave Taylor

On June 14, 2012, the Surratt Society dedicated a new grave marker for Frederick A. Aiken.

Mr. Aiken was part of Mary Surratt’s legal consul during the Conspiracy trial. The production and release of Robert Redford’s film about Mary Surratt and Frederick Aiken entitled The Conspirator, led to the discovery by researcher Christine Christensen that Mr. Aiken was buried in an unmarked grave in Washington D.C.’s Oak Hill Cemetery.

Aiken’s resting place when it was unmarked

The Surratt Society, having previously taken up funds to mark the graves of Edman Spangler and Elizabeth Keckly, started a fundraising campaign to mark his grave. The dedication service was attended by members of the Surratt Society and Museum, a group of Honor Guard reenactors, and even some descendants of the Aiken and Clampitt family (Aiken’s legal partner in Mary Surratt’s case). Short speeches were given based on the biographical details gained from Christine Christensen’s impressive research (Her 29 page document about Aiken can be read by clicking HERE). The Aiken descendant gave a nice speech while playing a recording he had made of the chimes of a grandfather clock. That grandfather clock was in an Aiken house that Frederick spent time in as a child. You can hear a short recording of them by clicking HERE. At the close of the ceremony, as the group was dispersing, the cemetery was visited by a doe and her fawn. The following are just a few images of that day sent to me by Betty Ownsbey, Lewis Powell’s biographer:

A descendant of the Aiken family (left) and Clampitt family (right). Sadly, Frederick Aiken had no children of his own and so he has no direct line.

The Honor Guard at Aiken’s Grave

Visitors at the Cemetery

References:
Finding Frederick by Christine Christensen
Betty Ownsbey

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On this date: June 16th, 1842

Posted on June 16, 2012 by Dave Taylor

Conspirator David Edgar Herold was born in Washington, D.C.

David Herold was the son of Adam George and Mary (Porter) Herold.  He attended Gonzaga College High School, Rittenhouse Academy, and Georgetown College.  Davy studied pharmacology and was employed as a druggist’s assistant and clerk when he became part of John Wilkes Booth’s plot.  He enjoyed hunting and had learned the routes and trails of Southern Maryland well during his hunting excursions.  This made Davy a perfect guide for Booth’s escape.  At the time of the assassination Davy was just 22 years old.

Davy’s true activities on the night of the 14th are hard to pin down.  It is most commonly written that he escorted Lewis Powell to the Seward house, and then fled when the onslaught began.  Another theory is that he was a point man – directing Powell to Seward’s and then returning to the Kirkwood house to see if Atzerodt had completed his assault on the Vice President.  Lastly, in his confession Atzerodt states that he refused to kill the Vice President, and that it was Davy who was assigned to do so in his place.

What we do know for certain is that stable man John Fletcher saw Davy Herold riding his horse around the time that the assassination occurred.  Fletcher chased after him as Davy was supposed to have returned his rented horse hours ago.  First Fletcher chased him on foot before going to his stables to get a horse for the pursuit.  When Fletcher came to the Navy Yard bridge he learned from the leader of the guard house, Silas Cobb, that Davy had already passed over the bridge.  Cobb told Fletcher he could pass and cross the bridge, but that he would not be allowed to return over it until daybreak.  At this point Fletcher gave up his pursuit.  Davy caught up with Booth who had crossed the bridge before him.  Davy would stay by Booth’s side during their entire escape.  In the end, Davy surrendered himself to the Garrett’s Farm patrol.  Davy was brought back to D.C. and placed on the ironclad ship the Montauk.  Then he was transferred to the Old Arsenal Penitentiary.  Davy celebrated his twenty-third birthday behind those bars and in the midst of the conspiracy trial.  Two of his sisters, Jane and Kate, gained passed to visit him two days later on June, 18th.  They sat and spoke with him in the courtroom from three o’clock until six o’clock.  Davy’s sisters had visited him in prison at least four times prior to this, making him one of the more visited conspirators after Anna Surratt’s attendance of her mother.

David Herold was found guilty on all counts against him except having conspired with Edman Spangler.  He was sentenced to hang and the sentence was carried out on July 7th.

His body was released back to the Herold family in February of 1869 and he was interred in Congressional Cemetery in Washington D.C.  He is buried underneath his sister Jane in the family plot, bearing no headstone of his own.

The press of 1865 was not kind to David Herold.  He was denounced as an idiot boy, with no sense or intelligence of his own.  They portrayed Davy as Booth’s lapdog.  While Davy did display a great deal of devotion to Booth, he was also an intelligent and crafty young man.  Upon his capture, Davy expertly avoided his interrogator’s attempt to implicate him further.  In addition, while on the run, Davy displayed his own creativity and intelligence by co-authoring a poem with Booth.  Instead of an autograph, he and Booth presented Willie Jett the following poem.  Davy wrote the second half:

“He put aside the dainty bribe
The little proffered hand
Albeit he held it in his thought
The dearest in the land
Not sharply nor with sudden heart
But with regretful grace
Meanwhile the shadow of his pain
Fell white upon his face

Dark daughter of the Sultry South
Thy dangerous eyes & lips
Essayed to win the prize and leave
Dear honor we Eclipse
She shyly clung upon his brow
He stayed now at the door
I could not love thee, dear so much
Loved I not Honor more.
Adieu, forever mine, my dear
Adieu forever more!”

Today marks the 170th anniversary of David Herold’s birth.  To me, Davy was a well educated, well off, young man who truly believed in the cause Booth expounded.  Davy was the only surviving son in a home filled with daughters and he longed for adventure.  In Booth’s ideas he found a cause to fight for, an adventure to pursue.  While those ideas were proven to be wrong and misguided, he believed in them nevertheless.  As with the others in Booth’s clan, Davy wanted to make a difference.  So on this, the day of his birth, we remember a man who choose his actions poorly, but do so with the best of intentions.

David Herold’s Signature

References:
Original document images are from Fold3.com
American Brutus by Michael Kauffman
The Lincoln Assassination Conspirators: Their Confinement and Execution, as Recorded in the Letterbook of John Frederick Hartranft by Ed Steers and Harold Holzer

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Mail for Mr. Booth

Posted on June 12, 2012 by Dave Taylor

Previously, I posted about one of the letters that was found in Booth’s room at the National Hotel.  As a popular actor, Booth received many letters from friends, fans, and theatre owners.  Another letter found in Booth’s room is the following from McVicker’s Theatre in Chicago:

“Chicago, Dec. 25, 1864

Friend Booth,
What do you say to filling three weeks with me May 29th?  I have not yet filled your time in January and see no chance of doing so with an attraction equal to yourself.  There are plenty of little fish but I don’t want them if I can help it.  So as you can’t come then come at the above date.
With a Merry Christmas and Happy New Year.
Yours Truly,
McVicker”

While Booth’s ability as an actor has been questioned by many authors, he nevertheless had the ability to draw a crowd.  This letter appears to state that Booth was, at one time, asked to play in Chicago in January of 1865 and declined the invitation.  Historically, McVicker’s had been very kind the John Wilkes Booth.  In January of 1862, he made his premiere there selling out the 2,500 seat theatre.  He would return there several times over the next two years.  But, as the years turned from 1864 to 1865, Booth’s mind was on other aspects.  He had suffered large losses in his oil ventures but told family and friends of his success.  He spoke of big plans that would allow him to retire from acting for good.  While wanting of money, an engagement in Chicago would separate him for too long from his new plan and target: Abraham Lincoln.

What makes this letter interesting is not just the content, but also the envelope that held it:

We can see that the letter was originally addressed to “J.Wilkes Booth, 28 East 19th St., New York”.  Written along the left hand side, in McVicker’s handwriting is the note, “forward if from home”.  McVicker had initially sent the letter to the Booth home in New York.

In September of 1863, Edwin Booth purchased the house on 19th St. near Gramercy Park in New York City as a permanent residence for his family.  Mary Ann, Rosalie, and Edwin’s daughter Edwina, lived there year round.  During breaks in touring and when the theatrical season ended, Edwin and John would both reside in the house.  Despite the brothers’ desire to keep the peace in the presence of their mother, the close quarters caused Edwin and John to engage in many arguments, usually stemming from their opposite political beliefs.  In late November of 1864, Edwin finally had enough of his brother’s secessionist talk, and kicked him out of the house.  Booth would briefly stay with his sister Asia in Philadelphia, before moving to Washington.

As the note on the envelope requested, someone in the Booth’s New York house forwarded the letter to John in Washington, D.C.  Specifically, they sent it to Ford’s Theatre.  Noted actors received liberties at theatres and receiving mail was one of them.  Harry Clay Ford, treasurer of the theatre, recounted the morning of April 14th, when Booth, once again, received his mail at the theatre:

“When [Booth] came there I do not know whether he asked for a letter or not, but Mr. Raybold ran into the office and brought him out a letter.  He generally had his letters directed to the theatre…He then commence[d] opening his letter.  Then I left for a while and went into the office.  On coming out again, I found him seated on the steps where he was on Thursday, the steps leading into the office…I think he was reading the letter then.  He did not make any remark in reference to the letter.  I do not know whether the letter consisted of two or three sheets written over.  It was notepaper I think; appeared to be written all over both sheets.  I don’t recollect positively, but I think the writing was rather large.  If I remember right it was zigzag all full of writing.  Did not see any blank on it al all.  He had not finished the letter when I left him.  Was reading it still.”

Harry Ford provides a tremendous amount of detail regarding Booth’s letter.  It seems that this was done to direct attention away from the fact that it was probably him (or someone in his office) that divulged to Booth that Lincolnwas coming.

How our history could be different if, on April 14th, 1865,  Booth had not received a similarly addressed letter like the one above.  He may have continued on past Ford’s never knowing Lincoln was going to be there that night.

References:
My Thoughts Be Bloody by Nora Titone
The Lincoln Assassination – The Evidence by William Edwards and Ed Steers

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Mystery Pictures

Posted on June 11, 2012 by Dave Taylor

Time to test your knowledge of assassination related places and objects.  Look at the mystery pictures below and take a guess as to where/what it is.  When you’ve guessed on all nine of the pictures click the Answer button at the bottom to see how you did.  Good luck!

Mystery Picture #1:

Mystery Picture #2:

Mystery Picture #3:

Mystery Picture #4:

Mystery Picture #5:

Mystery Picture #6:

Mystery Picture #7:

Mystery Picture #8:

Mystery Picture #9:

Got them all figured out?

Check the Answers!

How did you do?

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Thoughts From Major Rathbone

Posted on June 10, 2012 by Dave Taylor

When Booth’s dark deed was committed at Ford’s, no one had a closer seat to the action than the occupants of the theatre box. Mary Todd Lincoln, Clara Harris, and her fiancée and stepbrother Major Henry Rathbone, had the horror of watching the scene play out within arm’s length. Shortly after the crime, Henry Rathbone gave a lengthy and detailed statement recalling the events as he remembered them. Rathbone’s account (which can be read here) provides a wonderful description of the scene of the crime and his activities after the shot was fired. While a re-reading of Rathbone’s account doesn’t provide any ground breaking new claims, it does contain a few details worthy of address and consideration. This post will discuss two minor details set forth by Rathbone in his testimony.

Major Henry Rathbone and Clara Harris (composite by the author)

After Booth shot Lincoln, Major Rathbone, alarmed by the report of a pistol and cloud of powder in the box, raised himself and attempted to subdue the assailant. During the struggle Booth thrust at Rathbone with his knife, which Rathbone parried upwards. In the course of this parry, Rathbone received a deep cut on his left arm between his elbow and his shoulder. It was a painful blow that knocked Rathbone back a bit. At this moment, free from grappling with Rathbone, Booth moved to the front of the theatre box, and leapt over it.

Many witnesses at the time said that Booth’s jump from the box was a noticeably ungraceful one. One eye witness account stated that, “He did not strike the stage fairly on his feet, but appeared to stumble slightly.” Immediately following the events, several others described similar stumbles Booth made upon reaching the stage.

A quite ungraceful engraving of Booth’s jump from the box

Granted, the distance he leapt was twelve feet off the ground and it can be a hard landing for any man to make properly. In his act of jumping, Booth disturbed the flags decorating the box. This, of course, makes perfect sense. The flags decorating the box were merely attached to the outside and weren’t expected to be moved during the President’s attendance. Instead of jumping straight from inside the box down to the stage in a hurdler’s motion, Booth likely leapt over the railing of the box, paused briefly on the small ledge on the other side, and then jumped down. This small ledge is where many flags were resting and draped about. A witness at Ford’s described that, during the jump, Booth, “partially t[ore] down the flag”.

Photograph of the box shortly a day or two after the assassination. Notice the partially pulled down flags.

Another witness had a similar account about his riding spur getting caught up in the decorations, causing his awkward fall. The American mythos of the assassination states that, while jumping, Booth was tangled in an American flag causing him to land poorly onto the stage and breaking his leg. In his diary, the vain Booth, probably attempting to save face for his less than perfect “performance”, claimed that in jumping from the box he broke his leg. Most Boothies accept this as fact while also entertaining the idea set forth by author Michael Kauffman that Booth broke his leg later that night, when his horse fell on him during the rough ride south. With it being impossible to prove one theory over another, historians just pick the idea they like better and concede that differences of opinion exist on the matter.

What is not really debated is that Booth fell uneasily upon the stage, making one of his worst entrances ever. While the flags generally receive the attention for causing Booth’s missteps, Rathbone’s account provides another possible reason:

“The man rushed to front of the box and [I] endeavored to seize him again but only caught his clothes as he was leaping… The clothes, as [I] believe, were torn in this attempt to seize him.”

While Rathbone gets credit for struggling with Booth and sacrificing his own arm attempting to subdue him, is it possible that Rathbone was also the reason Booth landed so hard upon the stage? As Booth was making his jump, could the grasp of Major Rathbone on his clothes have thrown the actor’s balance off and caused his clumsy landing? Further, if this is indeed when Booth broke his leg, effectively slowing down his escape, could it be Rathbone and not the flags, that deserve the credit? These questions and the overall scenario produced by them are merely items to contemplate and I make no claims of them being in anyway definitive.

A second item Rathbone mentions in his testimony is about the set up of the box itself. From the beginning Rathbone gives a wonderful description of the box and the locations of the parties therein. From his description the following diagram of the box seems to correct display the set up:

Booth entered the box through the outer passageway door marked H on the diagram. Remember, during normal nights the box in which the President’s party occupied severed as two boxes. A partition would separate it into two smaller boxes. That is why there are two doors inside the passageway. The door marked as G, was actually the closest door to the President, but was closed during the whole night. It was the entrance to Box 7. The Presidential party and Booth all entered the box through door F. That was the door to Box 8.

This inner door to Box 7 is on display at in the Ford’s Theatre Museum.

This door has a unique feature as it has a peep hole bored into. For many years it was written that this hole was bored by John Wilkes Booth on the morning of the assassination. After learning about Lincoln’s attendance that night, Booth did enter the theatre and found a wooden bar with which to jam the outer door so that it could not be opened. The wooden bar can be seen in the above picture sticking out from the bottom of the door. It was assumed that during this prep work, that he also bored a hole into the door in order to have an eye on the President before entering the box.

A letter written by Frank Ford (son of Harry Clay Ford, the theatre’s treasurer) denounced this idea. Frank stated that his father ordered the hole to be bored into the door so that the President’s guard, and others employed in their duties for the government or theatre, could look in on the President and his party instead of barging in straight away and disturbing them. Frank quotes his father as saying, “John Booth had too much to do that day other than to go around boring holes in theatre doors.” However, a period statement from Harry Ford has him saying, “Did not notice a hole in the door or in the wall. Did not take particular notice of the wall or door however.” So the mystery regarding the hole remains.

Even if this hole was bored at the bequest of the Ford’s, Booth still used it to eye the President before making his move, right? Not necessarily. According to Rathbone:

“The distance between the President as he sat and the door was about four or five feet. The door, according to [my] recollection, was not closed during the evening.”

Rathbone claims that the door to Box 8 was never closed during the performance. If this is the case, Booth may not have used the peephole to spy on the President through Box 7. After entering the passageway door, Booth stealthily put the wooden bar in place to “lock” the outside door, and either peered through the slightly open Box 8 door into the box, or just waited until the lines of the play were right to bust in and get his first real view. With all eyes directed on stage and not towards the rear, it seems that Booth could have been standing in the shadows of the passageway eyeing the President for some time before he acted. If Rathbone is to be believed and the door was open during the performance, the image of Booth before he shot Lincoln could change. Instead of a man hiding behind door 7 nervously peeking at his target through a hole, Booth becomes a shadowy figure, standing motionless in the doorway to box 8 eyeing his prey. To me the latter image is in line with Booth’s brazen persona. He brought an unreliable single shot derringer to kill the President, assured that he would succeed. I have no problem picturing this arrogant Booth, lurking near an open door a few feet away from the President, coiled like a viper waiting to strike.

Again, these small pieces of Rathbone’s account are posted here merely to initiate contemplation and conversation. Feel free to post your thoughts about them by clicking on the “comment” button below.

References:
The Lincoln Assassination – The Evidence by William Edwards and Ed Steers
We Saw Lincoln Shot by Timothy S. Good

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The Collapse of Ford’s Theatre

Posted on June 9, 2012 by Dave Taylor

On this date, June 9th, in 1893, a part of the three upper floors of Ford’s Theatre collapsed killing twenty two clerks and injuring over 100 more government employees.

NPS Photo

After the assassination of Lincoln, the government immediately seized Ford’s Theatre.  Military guards had been posted to the theatre and access was granted by War Department passes.  Matthew Brady was allowed to photograph the interior and members of the stage crew and orchestra were allowed to retrieve their items from within its walls.  After the execution of the conspirators on July 7th, 1865, John T. Ford was given permission to reopen his theatre.  He announced that the play, “The Octoroon” was to be performed on July 10th.  As is shown on the playbills and broadsides from “Our American Cousin”, “The Octoroon” was initially scheduled for April 15th.  While Ford sold over 200 tickets for the performance, there was also a large uproar over the theatre reopening after what had transpired within her walls.  Ford received this anonymous letter implying retribution if he fulfilled his plan:

 “Sir:

You must not think of opening tomorrow night.  I can assure you that it will not be tolerated.  You must dispose of the property in some other way.  Take even fifty thousand for it and build another and you will be generously supported.  But do not attempt to open it again.

One of many determined to prevent it.”

For fear of the place being burned, the Judge Advocate ordered a troop of soldiers to the theatre on the night of July 10th, to prevent anyone from attending the play.  Ford placed a sign on the door reading, “Closed by Order of the Secretary of War” and refunded the ticket holders.  He would not attempt to revive his theatre again.

The government decided its best option was to just retain the property.  They began paying John Ford $1,500 a month to lease his theatre.  By July of 1866, the government bought the property outright for Ford for $88,000.  Even before purchasing the building, the government had started renovating the theatre.  They transformed the interior into a three story office building.  In December of 1865, the Army Medical Museum moved into the third floor of the space.

Engraving of the Army Medical Museum housed in Ford’s Theatre from the book, “Ten Years in Washington: Life and Scenes in the National Capital as a Woman Sees Them” (1874).

The museum would stay in Ford’s until 1887, when a separate building was constructed for their purposes.  The Army Medical Museum’s occupancy at Ford’s provided a slightly macabre reunion between Abraham Lincoln and John Wilkes Booth.  The museum housed pieces of Lincoln’s skull and hair, and Booth’s vertebrae, each taken from their perspective autopsies.  Parts of the two men spent over twenty years together at the scene of their last meeting. EDIT: Further research has shown that Lincoln’s skull fragments were not given to the Army Medical Museum until after it had moved out of Ford’s Theatre. Darn.

Lincoln Skull Fragments and Nelaton Probe

Engraving of Booth Vertebrae

The other two floors of Ford’s housed the Office of Records and Pensions run by the War Department.  When the medical museum moved out, they took over the entire building.  The many clerks employed in the building compiled the official pension records for Civil War veterans and others.

In 1887, the Pension bureau received a new chief, Colonel Fred C. Ainsworth.  As a boss, Ainsworth was not a popular fellow.  His methods of leadership and his expectations of his clerks was a drastic change from the department’s previous leaders.  Old timers who had worked in the office for years found themselves held to greater expectations and increased workloads.  While this made Ainsworth an efficient chief, it also made him a very disliked leader.  However, Ainsworth was not heartless and tried his best to appease his clerks.    Ainsworth was aware of his clerks’ apprehension about the building they occupied.  When he first started, he heard rumors that the east wall of Ford’s was unsafe.  He made inquiries with his superiors and was assured that the wall was perfectly secure and the whole building was safe.  In 1888 and 1889, Ainsworth directed the installation of a new steam heating apparatus and a new plumbing system for the building.  Then in 1893, he received permission to install an electric light plant for the building.  In order to place the light plant and provide amble ventilation for it, it was required to excavate about twelve feet between two partition walls in the basement.  Ainsworth wrote up specifications, gave them to the War Department, and the War Department created a contract and accepted bids.  Eventually, the bid by a contractor named George W. Dant was chosen to do the work.  During this entire process, no element of danger was discussed by anyone.  With proper underpinning of the floor above, the excavation was a relatively safe job.

Colonel Fred Ainsworth (http://www.arlingtoncemetery.net/fcains.htm)

While this construction was going on, the clerks’ unease about the building increased.  Plaster was known to fall from the ceiling and, at one point, part of the first floor was roped off causing the clerks to worry about the structure.  None of them however, seem to have brought their concerns up with Colonel Ainsworth.  As chief, he continually went into the basement to check on Dant and his men.  Dant continually assured him that everything was fine and that the roped off area was just because that particular part of the first floor was to be removed as part of the excavation.

Then, on this day in 1893, tragedy struck Ford’s again.  During the course of the work day, with hundreds of clerks and files hustling about, a support pier in the basement excavation area collapsed.  The floors above were supported by iron beams, which rested on columns, which rested on the brick piers in the basement.  When the one pier gave way, a 40 foot section from all three floors collapsed down.  Twenty one clerks were instantly crushed and killed.  One would die a few days later from his injuries.  A total of 105 clerks suffered injuries, with two more clerks dying as a result of their injuries over the next three years.

Almost as soon as the dust settled, and the dead were dug out, the public demanded to know who was responsible for the collapse.  A Coroner’s inquest was held to determine if there was any criminal responsibility.  The surviving clerks, furious over the loss of their brethren, used this opportunity to lay the blame on their despised chief, Colonel Ainsworth.  On the witness stand they spoke of the building being a death trap long before the accident.  They claimed they were told by Ainsworth’s assistants to tip toe on the stairs because they were dangerous.  They said they were too afraid to say anything about the conditions for fear they would be fired.  The room in which the inquest was held turned into a scene of fury, with all rage directed towards the Colonel.  A man who lost his brother in the accident came up behind the sitting Colonel and yelled “You murdered my brother!”  Shouts of agreement came from others in the crowd and several rose to their feet moving to close in on the Colonel.  Luckily the police lieutenant in the court was able to disperse the impromptu mob.  As more and more witnesses took the stand, the outbursts from the crowd increased.  All the while, the Colonel sat calmly in his chair, unwavering.

With emotions high, even members of the jury broke decorum.  B. H. Warner, a juror, interrupted a testimony and asked for Ainsworth to leave as he was intimidating witnesses with his mere presence.  The crowd applauded this suggestion for a full minute glaring at Ainsworth all the while.  Ainsworth refused to leave citing it as his right to hear testimony regarding the events.  The Coroner agreed.  He had no precedent to evict Ainsworth, as he had done no wrong and merely sat there.  When the Colonel’s representative, a Mr. Perry, rose to address the room, the crowd yelled at him and hissed.  When the room finally gained its composure, Mr. Perry begged the crowd, “I appeal to you as American citizens for fair play.”  To this a member of the crowd replied with, “You didn’t give us fair play!” At that point, the tempest roared.  The shouts of, “Murderer!” changed to, “Hang him! Hang him!” and the mob approached Ainsworth who continued to sit cool and collected in his chair.  The police lieutenant was powerless to disperse the mob.  For a brief moment of time, it appeared the Colonel’s life was to end right there by the hands of his angered employees.

The only thing that brought the mob back to its senses was the when the juror who previously spoke, B. H. Warner, stood upon his chair and begged for order.  He calmed the crowd back down with the following:

“This outbreak of feeling must be suppressed not by the strong hand of the law, but by the hand of fraternity.  I appeal to you to have fair play as American citizens, and not to stain the fair name of the glorious Capitol of this Republic.  I appeal to you in the name of the Master who reigns above.”

The inquest continued for the next few days but with increased police attendance that squashed all disturbances before they could start.  The jurors of the inquest found Colonel Ainsworth, contractor Dant, the superintendent of the building, and the mechanical engineer of Ford’s guilty of criminal negligence.  However, the Coroner’s inquest had no real power.  It merely established whether or not the men could be charged with the crime.  Despite the findings, the district attorney never charged the superintendent or the mechanical engineer with any crime.  Due to the public outcry, however, he did go after Ainsworth and Dant.  The defense effectively postponed matters until time allowed the public to cool down.

In the end, the charges against Colonel Ainsworth were dropped as the Coroner’s inquest never proved that he had any knowledge that the building was unsafe.  The jurors’ verdict was a product of the emotions of the times and not the evidence.  The accident was a travesty, but the Colonel was guilty of no wrong doing.  He continued as Chief of the Records and Pensions bureau and worked his way up to becoming the Adjutant General.  He died in 1934 and is buried in Arlington.

Of all those involved, it is probably George W. Dant who is to blame for the collapse.  It appears that he and his crew did not properly shore up the brick piers around the excavation.  With the ground around them gone, the weight of the floors above was too much for the exposed piers.  The cause of the collapse was due to the improper support of these piers.  While Dant was the most liable for what occurred, by April of 1895 the prosecution gave up its case against him.

NPS Photo

For the clerks who perished, the government paid $5,000 to each of their families.  Those who were wounded in the collapse received anywhere from $50 to $5,000 depending on the extent of their injuries.

The inside of Ford’s was rebuilt immediately after the collapse.  From 1893 to 1931 the building housed the Government Printing Office under the direction of the Adjutant General.  In 1931 the building was turned over to the Department of the Interior and the Osborne Oldroyd’s Lincoln Museum opened on the first floor in 1932.  It became a National Historic Site the same year.  After being renovated and restored to its 1865 appearance, it reopened as a working theatre and museum in 1968.

While it is well known, the one item of coincidence regarding the June 9th, 1893 collapse of Ford’s is still worth repeating here.  At around the same time the clerks of Ford’s were falling to their deaths, another man was being buried in Massachusetts.  Edwin Booth, the great tragedian and brother of the assassin, died on June 7th.  On the day of the collapse, he was being interred at his final resting place in Mount Auburn cemetery.  Despite Edwin’s lifetime of success as the greatest actor of his generation, both his life and death are eclipsed by tragedies at Ford’s Theatre.

References:
Ford’s Theatre and the Lincoln Assassination by Victoria Grieve
Restoration of Ford’s Theatre by George Olszewski
There are many newspaper articles about the inquest and legal proceedings regarding the collapse.  I used GenealogyBank searches for Ainsworth and Dant to find several articles.  Others can be found in the New York Times’ archive.  The most entertaining account (which contains the material about the mob at the first session of the inquest) can be read here.
Other articles about Ainsworth’s legal process: 1, 2, 3

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