James A. Hessler
Page 3
It was now approximately 2:00 p.m., and Key was on the square’s southeast corner near Pennsylvania Avenue, across from the presidential mansion. When Butterworth approached from the Sickles house, Key greeted him with, “What a fine day we have!” After a brief exchange, Butterworth continued toward the club. Sickles rapidly approached along the same route, shouting, “Key, you scoundrel, you have dishonored my house—you must die!” Key thrust his hand into his pocket—did he have a weapon?—and moved toward Sickles. Sickles produced a gun and fired at close range. The first shot grazed Key. When he attempted to fire a second time, Key grabbed him and the two men began to struggle. Sickles’ gun was knocked to the ground. He turned and started to pull away when Key grabbed him from behind with both arms. Sickles broke free and pulled another gun out of his pocket.21
“Murder! Murder!” shouted Key as he backed away. “Don’t shoot!” He removed the object from his pocket—his opera glass—and threw it at Sickles. Just ten feet away, Sickles fired a second bullet. This one hit Key two inches below the groin. Key tried to grab onto a nearby tree, but slumped onto the ground at Sickles’ feet. Up to this point, Sickles had no way of knowing that Key was unarmed. Dan might very well have left his house expecting armed combat, and had he stopped now, he might have had a valid self-defense argument. Key’s act of reaching into his pocket could have given Sickles reasonable cause to believe that Key carried something more deadly than an opera glass. But the emotional Sickles could not stop. Instead, he pulled the trigger a third time. The gun misfired. He cocked the piece yet again, placed it on Key’s chest, and pulled the trigger again. This time the bullet entered below Key’s heart. Sickles placed the barrel next to Key’s head and squeezed the trigger once more, but once again it misfired.22
The numerous eyewitnesses in Lafayette Square surrounded the two men. Towering above the prostrate Key, Sickles demanded, “Is the scoundrel dead?” He repeated that Key had “violated” and “dishonored” the Sickles marriage. Butterworth, who had watched the shooting, led Sickles away while several others carried Key to the clubhouse. He died shortly thereafter from the fatal chest wound. Accompanied by Butterworth, Sickles surrendered himself. Before the congressman was led to jail he was allowed a moment with Teresa (as long as he promised not to hurt her), during which he confessed, “I’ve killed him!”23
Dramatic newspaper re-creation of the Key murder.
Library of Congress
The murder of Philip Barton Key, and accompanying trial of Congressman Dan Sickles, had all of the scandalous elements expected to thrill the American reading public: adultery, politics, celebrity, and a handsome corpse. Newspapers across the country provided extensive coverage of the so-called “Sickles Tragedy”; the shocking killing was daily front-page news in large markets such as New York. Even in smaller markets such as Gettysburg, readers of the local Compiler were furnished with all details of the case, meaning that Gettysburg’s residents would have had the opportunity to know Sickles by reputation before he arrived there in 1863.24
An immediate and significant show of public sympathy broke out for the accused. As the New York Times reported on March 15, weeks before the trial opened, “there appears to be no second opinion as to the certainty of Mr. Sickles’ acquittal” but “national interest” arose from “the general desire to see the whole case fairly put, and the million scandals of mystery laid to rest by the plain facts.” Longtime Sickles critic George Templeton Strong recorded that the killer “has attained the dignity of a homicide.… Were he not an unmitigated blackguard and profligate, one could pardon any act of violence committed on such provocation.” It was readily apparent that, even to his enemies, adultery was a justifiable excuse for the crime. The defense team’s strategy was also telegraphed early. The Times reported two weeks before the trial opened that the defense would examine whether the “criminal connection” between Key and Teresa “excuses the slaying of the seducer by the husband’s hand.” The paper cited several recent precedents in Dan’s favor, including a Virginia case where a defendant had committed a similar murder and the jury acquitted him “without leaving the box.” Perhaps it was because of this support that when Dan was visited by a newsman in his cell on the eve of trial, the reporter was startled to “find him looking so well. His manner was pleasantly natural.” The overwrought emotionalism that had brought on the shooting was nowhere in evidence and the accused conversed easily on a variety of topics.25
Sickles’ many friends, including both his and Teresa’s fathers, were in evidence when the trial began on April 4, 1859. In a nineteenth century version of the legal “Dream Team,” Sickles had no less than eight high-powered attorneys representing him, led by James T. Brady. At least four of the lawyers, such as John Graham (brother of Charles Graham) and Thomas Francis Meagher, were close friends from New York. Although he was not the lead attorney, the defense team is best remembered for the presence of future Secretary of War Edwin Stanton. Mr. and Mrs. Stanton had been among the circle of dinner guests who had frequented the Sickles home. Of more importance was the fact that Stanton was widely respected for his knowledge of constitutional and civil law. The high-powered defense team was opposed by only one man. Robert Ould, Key’s assistant, had been elevated to District Attorney after Key’s murder. (Ould would later serve as the Confederacy’s Assistant Secretary of War and Commissioner for Exchange of Prisoners.) Key’s family and friends realized that Ould was over-powered and soon hired him an assistant. The courtroom was packed with spectators and newsmen from across the country when the doors opened for business.26
Prosecutor Ould’s indictment read that Sickles, “being moved and seduced by the instigation of the devil” had assaulted and murdered Key with “malicious aforethought.” Sickles pleaded “Not guilty” in a clear and firm tone. An observing reporter thought that he was “exhibiting no unusual marks of agitation” and throughout the trial, reporters generally found his demeanor to be unusually calm, even given his most “humiliating” circumstance. The first three days were spent on jury selection, and there was considerable difficulty finding impartial jurors. Several prospective candidates expressed the opinion that they would acquit if selected. By the second day of the trial, at least one reporter wrote, “I will not be at all astonished if Sickles is acquitted with the least trouble.” Sickles was said to exhibit “evident satisfaction at the popular expression in his favor.… ”27
Once jury selection was completed, Ould delivered an emotionally charged argument that Sickles, “a walking magazine,” had taken deliberate care in arming himself against Key, who had only “a poor and feeble opera-glass.” The prosecution called twenty-eight witnesses, many of whom had witnessed the murder. Butterworth was not called to testify, which seemed odd on two accounts: he had been with Sickles immediately prior to the shooting, and because his own story had a number of holes. Another witness who was not called was J. H. W. Bonitz, a young White House page who had been told to leave town by none other than President Buchanan. These exclusions raised questions as to whether political pressure was preventing the prosecution from vigorously pursuing the case. Teresa was also not called to testify; she spent the entire trial in seclusion and was soon sent to New York with Laura.28
Sickles’ lawyers decided they would throw the prosecutor off-stride by not making an opening argument until after the prosecution called its witnesses. As a result, the defense did not commence until April 9. Beginning with John Graham’s lengthy opening, Sickles’ team took the offensive and argued that adultery with another man’s wife was a crime, making Key a criminal himself, and that Sickles had a right to “protect” Teresa who was, in essence, his property. Sickles’ lawyers told the court that Dan’s discovery of the affair was tantamount to actually catching Teresa and Key in the act. Graham further argued that the recent discovery of the affair, compounded by seeing Key in front of his own house, had produced “mental unsoundness” sufficient to cause deadly violence. Sickles, Graham argued, became increasing
ly and intensely “mortified” until “his mind became diseased.” It was this final point, believed to have been originated by attorney James Brady, that made the trial noteworthy beyond its scandalous aspects. Although complete insanity was a valid and previously-established defense, the Sickles team argued before an American jury for the first time what would become known as the “temporary insanity” defense.29
The strategy required Sickles’ attorneys to argue strenuously in favor of admitting Teresa’s “habitual adultery” into evidence. Without proof of adultery, there could be no temporary insanity question. The prosecution naturally objected, and the admissibility question was argued for days. The judge finally ruled that Dan’s cries that Key had “violated his bed” were facts of the case, and thus the jury had to have the adultery explained. It was a significant victory for the Sickles team. The trial was no longer about simply murder, and in many ways it was no longer an insanity trial. Instead, Key and Teresa were now on trial for adultery. The defense produced forty-three witnesses whose euphemistic testimony described Teresa’s affair. Dan’s surprisingly calm demeanor cracked at this stage of the proceedings, and he had to be excused three times during testimony. After one particularly grueling session, he was described as “his vision quenched in scalding tears, his limbs paralyzed, his forehead throbbing as though it had been bludgeoned by some ruffian, and his whole frame convulsed.” Whether the courtroom histrionics were real or an award-winning performance, the jury witnessed firsthand a husband who was mentally unable to bear his wife with another man.30
The prosecution scored a minor victory when the judge refused to admit Teresa’s confession into evidence, but it appeared verbatim in newspapers nationwide. The confession was considered a lurid public disclosure for that era, and papers in San Francisco were censured for obscenity. Teresa was disgraced and permanently marked by the country as a ruined woman. “Those who have known her will grieve sorely at the necessity of giving her up as lost,” editorialized the New York Times. Had Dan approved of the confession’s publication? The Associated Press was “requested on the part of Mr. Sickles to state that he deeply regrets for many reasons, but particularly for the sake of his child, who must one day read the record of her mother’s shame, that the confession of Mrs. Sickles was published; the publication was contrary to his wishes and if it had been within his power he would have suppressed it.” Were his denials sincere? The confession’s mysterious publication was consistent with his life-long custom of using the newspapers, sometimes anonymously, to fight his battles. It was a pattern that woud repeat itself after Gettysburg.31
Ould attempted to retaliate by introducing Dan’s own “personal history” into evidence, including proof that he had also committed adultery throughout his marriage, such as meeting a “Mrs. Sickles” at a hotel in Baltimore. The hotel owner, however, was not allowed to testify. Many writers have commented on the apparent hypocrisy: the wife’s infidelity on trial, but not the husband’s. However, the defense needed to disprove malice and prove that insanity existed when the murder occurred. Dan may (or may not) have been temporarily insane when he killed Key, but his own adultery had not been the cause. For that reason, it was Teresa’s actions, and not his own, which were on trial.32
Stanton began the defense’s closing arguments on April 23. He described Teresa as a “wretched mother, the ruined wife, [who] has not yet plunged into the horrible filth of prostitution to which she is rapidly hurrying.… ” Stanton argued that although she was lost as a wife, Dan had actually rescued the mother of his child. Key’s death was a “cheap sacrifice” when compared to the fate from which Dan had saved Teresa and Laura. Stanton continued:
The theory of our case is, that there was a man living in a constant state of adultery with prisoner’s wife, a man who was daily by a moral- no, by an immoral power- enormous, monstrous, and altogether unparalleled in the history of American society, or in the history of the family of man, a power over the being of this woman … dragging her, day by day, through the streets in order that he might gratify his lust. The husband beholds him in the very act of withdrawing his wife from his roof, from his presence, from his arm, from his wing, from his nest, meets him in that act and slays him, and we say that the right to slay him stands on the firmest principles of self-defense.
Despite the novel concept of temporary insanity, Stanton’s “theory of our case” was actually a more mundane self-defense against the adulterer. James Brady continued the theme on April 26. In comparing Key’s white handkerchief as a “foul substitute” to “that star-spangled banner” of his “noble father,” it became “a solemn duty of the American citizen to protect his home against the invasion of the traitor, who … under the pretext of friendship, inflicts a deadly wound upon his happiness, and aims also a blow at his honor.” Brady warned the jury that Dan could not be convicted if any evidence had shown the murder to be justifiable.33
At the end of closing arguments, Judge Thomas Crawford instructed the jury to be “satisfied, beyond all reasonable doubt” of Sickles’ sanity and if there were any doubt then “Mr. Sickles should be acquitted.” More significantly, questions of insanity should be considered “at the moment” when the crime was committed. Judge Crawford basically validated the defense’s case: American jurors were now allowed to consider a defendant’s sanity at the moment a crime was committed, and to give the defendant the benefit of the doubt if any uncertainty existed. This legal landmark drew little public commentary from the press or legal experts. Adultery was the primary issue of the trial. It was the real key to the defense strategy—and it sold more newspapers.34
The jury deliberated for only seventy minutes before returning with a verdict of “Not Guilty.” Pandemonium and cheers broke out in the courtroom. “The verdict,” readers of the Gettysburg Compiler were informed, “seems to have been anticipated … The scene was a wild one and great enthusiasm prevailed.” While those in the courtroom lost control, the “only man apparently unmoved in this eruption” was Sickles himself. An observer noticed that he gathered “his nerves in a strong struggle.” So many people swarmed Dan to offer their congratulations that police had to escort him out of the court. Surrounded by his friends and father, he worked through cheering crowds, was placed into a carriage, and driven away. That evening, while Dan sought “repose,” James Brady invited the jury to a party at the National Hotel. The foreman expressed his gratitude that he had “lived to render such a verdict.” A reporter canvassed the jurors and confirmed that adultery, not insanity, had been the deciding factor: “in the absence of any adequate punishment by law for adultery, the man who violates the honor and desolates the home of his neighbor, does so at the peril of his life, and if he falls by the outraged husband’s hands, he deserves his doom.” The legal precedent, which everyone was talking about, was not temporary insanity, but rather that “when a man violated the sanctity of his neighbor’s home he must do so at his peril.” In the end, it was Key’s own adulterous actions, and not Dan’s mental state, that had ensured Sickles’ freedom.35
Most newspapers praised the verdict. Some wondered if the prosecution had not pursued the case energetically enough, since Sickles was, after all, “a fast friend of the highest officer in the nation.” The judge’s conduct was also questioned, with one paper going so far as to claim that “while Mr. Crawford is Judge, no member of Congress can be convicted of a criminal offense.” Such doubts were not the prevailing opinion. In general, the moral temperament of the era viewed Key in the wrong and Sickles as the sympathetic avenger. Unremorseful, Dan returned to the crime scene with two friends to graphically recreate the killing. He assured them that he had every intention to kill Key that day. Less dramatically, in later years Sickles was seen revisiting the square alone. He would gaze “earnestly” at Key’s old clubhouse window and then look across the square to his old residence. Alone at the spot where he had killed Key, the aging Sickles silently mused over the murder, undisturbed by passersby.36
The
public’s appetite for Sickles news did not end with the verdict. At least one retailer in Baltimore thought that the Sickles name might be good for business. Picking’s Clothing company ran advertisements in the Gettysburg Compiler under the caption, “The Sickles’ Trial.” Picking’s reminded readers that the shooting of Key “created the greatest excitement. The people talk about it on the streets and in their houses, and look upon these tragedies as being unparalleled in history. So it is with Picking’s Clothing. …37
Speculation turned toward the presumably scandalous forthcoming divorce. It was reported that Mrs. Sickles “will resist any application of her husband for a divorce, and will furnish proof of infidelity on his part which will prevent any decree in his favor.” The New York Times wrote that the homicide had been committed due to “terrible provocation,” and that the verdict had been reached “in conformity with the best public sentiment of the land.” Nevertheless, it was now “expected that a decent regard for the proprieties of life … would have induced him to withdraw himself and his sad domestic story at once from the eye of the world.” Within only three months of the acquittal, however, shocking rumors began to circulate that the infamous couple had reconciled. In fact, they had corresponded extensively during the trial. The New York Herald circulated a story in July that their families had convinced them to salvage their marriage and, “it is said their love is greater than ever.” The New York Tribune reported “from various sources” that they were “now living … in marital relations as before.” America’s most notorious couple was indeed back together.38