Lincoln was having so much fun reading to his guests that he had to be called several times to dinner: “He promised each time to go, but would continue reading the book. Finally, he received a peremptory order from the butler that he must come to dinner at once.”46 Dinner lasted from 7:00 P.M. until 7:30 P.M. The substance of Lincoln’s last meal is not known, but presumably he and Mary dined alone as Robert had retired early, exhausted from the continuous activity resulting from Lee’s surrender.
Following dinner, Lincoln met briefly with Schuyler Colfax, Speaker of the House of Representatives. Colfax was leaving in the morning for California and wanted to go over a few political matters with the president. Almost as an afterthought, Lincoln told Colfax that Senator Charles Sumner had somehow gotten the gavel of the Confederate Congress when he was in Richmond and had intended to give it to Stanton. Lincoln told Colfax that he had told Sumner to give the gavel to the Speaker.47
At this point in the story it is necessary to question another doubtful occurrence that has crept into many of the books dealing with Lincoln’s last day. It involves the reminiscences of one of the four bodyguards assigned to the White House detail, William Crook. In 1907 Crook published a little book tided Through Five Administrations about his experiences while serving as a security guard for five presidents.48 In his book Crook told about an incident that occurred on the evening of April 14. He had come on duty at the White House at 8:00 A.M. and was due to be relieved at 4:00 P.M. by John F. Parker, another member of the president’s bodyguard. According to Crook, Parker was late in showing up, requiring Crook to stay on until Parker arrived.
Following dinner, which would place the alleged event close to 7:30 P.M., Crook writes that he accompanied Lincoln on his usual trip to the War Department where he visited with Stanton. The War Department was located in a building on the White House grounds along Seventeenth Street, a short walk from the White House. Crook wrote that the president had seemed more depressed than he had ever seen him before. While strolling across the White House grounds, the two came upon a group of men. The men appeared to be drunk as they passed by, causing Lincoln to remark, “Crook, do you know I believe there are men who want to take my life? And I have no doubt they will do it.” Crook was taken aback and pressed Lincoln why he thought so. “Other men have been assassinated,” Lincoln said. Approaching the War Department entrance, Lincoln continued, “I know no one could do it and escape alive. But if it is to be done, it is impossible to prevent.”49
Arriving at the War Department, Lincoln met with Stanton. When Lincoln finally emerged from Stanton’s office his mood had dramatically changed to one of happiness. Even so, Crook claimed that Lincoln “showed no enthusiasm for going” to the theater that night.50 Lincoln would go, however, despite his desire to stay home because Mary Lincoln had insisted they go. Crook was alarmed and asked the president if he could stay on duty and go with him to the theater. The kindly president told Crook to go home and get his much needed rest. Reaching the portico of the White House Lincoln said, “Goodbye Crook.” Crook later thought the parting strange. On every other occasion previously Lincoln had said, “Good Night, Crook.” Crook concluded that Lincoln “had some sort of vague warning that the attempt [on his life] would be made on the night of the 14th.”51
Crook’s reminiscence has become a favorite among storytellers. But there are several difficulties with the account, making it unlikely that it ever happened. First is the timing. The Lincolns began their dinner a little late, just after 7:00 P.M. At 7:30 P.M. Lincoln met with Speaker Colfax. The only time Lincoln could have accompanied Crook to Stanton’s office was between the end of dinner and Lincoln’s 7:30 P.M. meeting with Colfax. In the interval between 7:00 P.M. and 7:30 P.M. there was not enough time to eat dinner, visit with Stanton, and return to meet with Colfax. Second is Crook’s claim that Lincoln did not want to go to the theater that evening. In telling his story, Crook places the onus on Mary Lincoln, claiming she insisted they go to the theater even though Lincoln did not want to. According to Mary Lincoln, it was her husband who wanted to go to the theater while Mary wanted to stay home because of a headache that was causing her considerable discomfort. Two months after Lincoln’s murder Mary wrote to Francis Carpenter, “his mind, was fixed [emphasis added] upon having some relaxation & bent on the theater.” Mary agreed to go that night “so as not to disappoint her husband.”52
Most damaging to Crook’s veracity, however, is the finding of a statement by historian William Hanchett that quotes Stanton as saying that the last visit to his office by Lincoln was on the evening of Wednesday, April 12, not April 14.53 Hanchett points out that no mention is made before the year 1907 by Crook or anyone else of Lincoln’s visiting the War Department on the night of April 14, 1865.54 Since publication of Crook’s book, nearly every author has included the episode in writing about Lincoln’s last hours.55 Crook’s reminiscence cannot be accepted, and while some of his observations are undoubtedly true, each must be scrutinized carefully before accepting them as an accurate part of the Lincoln assassination story. This includes the claim by Crook that John F. Parker, Lincoln’s bodyguard, was several hours late in arriving for duty on the night of April 14, 1865.56 It seems more likely that Crook was not even present when Lincoln sat down to dinner, suggesting that, contrary to Crook, Parker was already on the job having relieved Crook earlier in the evening.
Lincoln and Colfax ended their meeting at 8:00 P.M. Lincoln wished Colfax a safe journey. “Let me hear from you and I will telegraph you at San Francisco,” Lincoln told the Speaker.57 Waiting next to see the president was George Ashmun, congressman from Massachusetts. Ashmun wanted Lincoln’s help in recovering a shipment of confiscated cotton for one of Ashmun’s constituents. Ashmun had also wanted an appointment with Lincoln for himself and his friend Judge Charles P. Daly to discuss a second matter. Lincoln apologized to Ashmun, telling him that he had to leave for his theater appointment, but would see him first thing in the morning. The play at Ford’s Theatre was scheduled to begin at 8:00 P.M., and the president and his wife were already late.58 He took a small card from his pocket and penned his final note: “Allow Mr. Ashmun and friend to come in at 9 A.M. to-morrow. A. Lincoln.”59
The president’s carriage waited at the front portico. Seated beside the driver, Ned Burke, was Charles Forbes, the president’s personal valet and messenger. John F. Parker, the evening bodyguard, had gone ahead to the theater where he would meet the carriage on its arrival and escort the president and first lady into the theater. There would be no cavalry escort this night. The president was adamant about not allowing the escort to accompany him and Mrs. Lincoln to church or to the theater.60 As the carriage made its way along the curved driveway leading from the portico, Mary Lincoln told the driver to stop by the residence of Clara Harris on the corner of Fifteenth and H Streets across from the White House. Here they would pick up Major Henry Rathbone and his fiancee, Miss Harris.
The young couple had not been Mary’s first choice to go with them to the theater. General and Mrs. Grant were. When the Grants turned the president down, he turned to Major Thomas Eckert, assistant secretary of war. Eckert also turned Lincoln down. He had no interest in accompanying them to a theater and feigned work as an excuse for not going. Mrs. Lincoln finally settled on Clara Harris and Major Rathbone.
It was twenty minutes past eight when the carriage pulled away from the Harris residence and headed toward Ford’s Theatre.61 A chill was settling over the city and the damp night air indicated rain was about to start falling soon. Mary took the president’s arm in her own and placed her hand over his. She noticed that his hands were bare. Mary was constantly admonishing him to wear gloves whenever they were out in public. It simply wasn’t proper for the president of the United States to appear in public without gloves. Stuffed in Lincoln’s coat pockets were two pairs of white kid gloves. Mary simply didn’t have the heart to scold him this evening. He was so happy. She had never seen him so supremely cheerful.
CHAPTER NINE
Decision
Our cause being almost lost, something decisive & great must be done.
John Wilkes Booth
Abraham Lincoln was enamored with the performing arts. While a young man in New Salem, Illinois, he had been introduced to the plays of William Shakespeare by the village blacksmith, Jack Kelso.1 His fondness for Shakespeare became so great that he committed whole plays to memory, and like the literature of the Bible, they became a favorite source of material for his fertile mind.2 Lincoln’s taste in the theater was broad, ranging from tragedy to comedy, but it was the plays of Shakespeare that he found most compelling.
On a cold March night in 1863, Lincoln visited Ford’s Theatre to see James W. Hackett as Falstaff in Shakespeare’s Henry the Fourth.3 The following day Hackett sent Lincoln a copy of a book he had recently published containing critical essays on Shakespeare and Shakespearean actors. Lincoln wrote to Hackett acknowledging receipt of the book and took the opportunity to comment on one of his favorite subjects, Macbeth: “Some of Shakespeare plays I have never read; while others I have gone over perhaps as frequently as any professional reader. Among the latter are Lear, Richard Third, Henry Eighth, Hamlet and especially Macbeth. I think nothing equals Macbeth. It is wonderful.”4 Lincoln then offered his own critique of the great bard: “Unlike you gentlemen of the profession, I think the soliloquy in Hamlet commencing ‘O, my offence is rank’ surpasses that commencing ‘To be, or not to be.’”5
Like Macbeth, Lincoln was himself a tragic figure of enormous proportion whose life and death would have fit supremely into a Shakespearean tragedy. His love of Hamlet and Macbeth was in keeping with his fatalistic view of life. His visits to the theater allowed him to find solace in the powerful stories of Shakespeare’s tragic figures. It was a solace that was shared by John Wilkes Booth.
Lincoln visited several of Washington’s major establishments during the four years of his presidency. He attended Ford’s Theatre on at least thirteen occasions prior to the night of April 14.6 On one of those occasions he saw John Wilkes Booth perform in a play titled The Marble Heart.7 His most recent visit had been on the night of February 10, 1865, just two months before his death, when he saw the comedy Love in Livery starring Booth’s brother-in-law, John Sleeper Clarke. It was on that night that Lincoln was accompanied by Generals Grant and Burnside and the three men sat in the presidential box without benefit of guard or attendant.8
Following Lincoln’s murder eight weeks later, much ado would be made of an unprotected president. Some would see dark conspiracy in the absence of a guard.9 But there was no conspiracy or dark secret in the practice. The president along with his generals wanted no interference from such trappings. The absence of a guard on the night of February 10 is consistent with the notion that guards were not used inside buildings. Access to the president was reasonably easy.
Ford’s Theatre was an impressive building located on Tenth Street between E and F Streets not far from the president’s house. It was situated in the middle of the block diagonally across the street from the Metropolitan Police headquarters. The theater was large for the period, measuring 75 feet across the front by 100 feet in depth. It had three floors and contained offices and a sitting room or lounge. It was one of Washington’s premier theaters and a favorite of the president and his wife.
The theater had been built in 1833 as the First Baptist Church of Washington. In 1859, the First Baptist congregation merged with the Fourth Baptist congregation and built a new, grander church only three blocks away, giving up the Tenth Street structure. Fiscal pressure resulted in a decision by church elders to sell the old building, and in 1861 John Ford was granted a five-year lease on the property with an option to purchase it outright at the end of that period. It proved to be a very profitable move for Ford. The church was already a theater of sorts able to accommodate a variety of performances. War had swelled the population of the city with younger men who craved most any form of entertainment.
The first year Ford rented the building to George Christy for his famous Christy’s Minstrels. Ford leased the building to Christy as a test of the Washington market.10 He was already one of the country’s leading theatrical entrepreneurs who owned establishments in Baltimore and Philadelphia. He had never experienced failure. Satisfied the market would prove a financial success, Ford closed down the theater in February of 1862 and began a major renovation in anticipation of reopening it as Ford’s Theater. The newly renovated theater opened on March 19 only to be gutted by fire nine months later. Determined to go on, Ford rebuilt the theater and went back into production in August of 1863. For the next nineteen months the theater hosted 573 performances to the delight of Washington crowds.11 It was a great success, ensuring Ford and his two brothers top rank among the nation’s theatrical entrepreneurs.
The theater became a second home to the country’s most famous actors and actresses, including John Wilkes Booth. But despite its being one of the major theaters in the country, Booth appeared at Ford’s Theatre in only thirteen performances on three separate occasions between 1863 and 1865. His last performance was on March 18, 1865, as Pescara in The Apostate.12 The performance occurred the day after Booth’s aborted plan to capture Lincoln while visiting Campbell Hospital. Booth’s performance on the eighteenth belied later accounts that he had been forced to abandon his illustrious career because of chronic throat problems. Twenty-four days after this performance he would return to Ford’s for one last visit, when he would play the most infamous role of his brilliant career. So much of Booth’s life had been intertwined with theatrics that fantasy became mingled with reality on more than one occasion. At the height of his career, Booth began preparing for his greatest role. It was a role he was well prepared for, having lived it many times over in his mind.
Booth had been up late the night of April 13. He had caroused through the city, stopping by several of his favorite watering holes. By 2:00 A.M. he returned to his hotel room where he took time to write a letter to his mother before retiring: “Everything is dull; that is, has been till last night. (The illumination.) Everything was bright and splendid. More so in my eyes if it had been a display in a nobler cause. But so goes the world. Might makes right.”13
Booth would write a second letter later in the day. While the first letter was for only his mother’s eyes, the second letter was for posterity. It was written to the editor of the National Intelligencer and was meant for the entire world to read. Booth would give the letter to a fellow actor, John Matthews, with instructions to deliver it to the National Intelligencer. Unfortunately, the letter would not survive.
Shortly after 10:00 A.M. on April 14, Booth was seen having breakfast at the National Hotel with two young ladies.14 Following breakfast he walked a short four blocks to Ford’s Theatre where he chatted a few minutes with Harry Ford, John Ford’s brother and business partner.15 Booth next picked up his mail that had been delivered to the theater.16 Sometime between 10:00 and 11:00 A.M. a messenger arrived at the theater from the White House requesting the presidential box be reserved for that evening. The president and his wife would be attending the evening performance. The theater had eight private boxes located on either side of the large stage, four at ground level and four at the upper level or dress circle. The president used the two upper boxes located to the right of the audience whenever he and his guests attended the theater. A simple partition that separated the two boxes was removed on such occasions, creating one large box. Access to the two boxes was through an outer door that led to a small vestibule. The vestibule had two doors that led into the separate boxes. This arrangement created an ideal situation for Booth. He could enter the vestibule, thus shielding himself from the audience seated in the dress circle while separating him from the inner box. Here he could wait in darkness until the moment he chose to act. The box, with its vestibule, was ideally situated for Booth’s plan. He needed only to secure the outer door to the vestibule so no one could follow behind him. He d
id this at some point during the day, probably during a second visit to the theater around 6:00-7:00 P.M. when he was seen stabling his horse behind the theater.17
Sometime between 3:00 and 6:00 P.M., Harry Ford personally arranged the president’s box. He placed three velvet-covered chairs, a velvet-covered sofa, and six cane chairs in the box. From his office on the third floor, he brought a large velvet-covered, walnut rocking chair that he placed in a corner of the box close to the balustrade. The rocking chair was placed such that the curtains decorating the opening of the box hid the president from the audience while giving him a clear view of the stage. The chair was placed opposite the inner door leading from the vestibule into the box. Ford also placed two American flags on staffs at each end of the box and draped two more American flags over the balustrade. He then set a blue Treasury Guard flag on the center post dividing the two boxes. Directly beneath the blue flag hung a large framed portrait of George Washington.18
It was during Booth’s morning visit to the theater that he learned that Lincoln and Grant would be attending the evening performance. Here was the opportunity he had waited for. The time and the place were perfect. Booth was thoroughly familiar with Ford’s and had free access to the place. He could move about the theater without arousing suspicion. He would use the opportunity to visit the box later that evening and make his preparations to secure the outer door.
Blood on the Moon Page 16
