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I am conducting an ongoing review of the seven-part AppleTV+ miniseries Manhunt, named after the Lincoln assassination book by James L. Swanson. This is my historical review for the fifth episode of the series “A Man of Destiny.”  This analysis of some of the fact vs. fiction in this episode contains spoilers. To read my reviews of other episodes, please visit the Manhunt Reviews page.

Episode 5: A Man of Destiny

This episode opens with John Wilkes Booth and David Herold realizing that their night of rowing on the Potomac has not brought them to Virginia but that they have accidentally landed back on the Maryland shore. After changing into Confederate uniforms claimed from bodies on the riverbank, the pair head off into the water once again, hoping to make it to Virginia. Edwin Stanton, with his fictional map of the Confederate secret line in hand, comes across the members of the 16th NY Cavalry in the field at an undisclosed location. We meet the “man of destiny” pictured above, Sgt. Boston Corbett, whose salvation from past sins and tragedy is shown in a flashback. With the 16th in tow, Stanton and his group ride on, coming across a band of wounded Confederate soldiers. The war is over for them, and all they want is to get their oaths of allegiance and be allowed to go home. At that moment, a messenger arrives and informs Stanton that President Johnson is rolling back the land grant program to recently freed Black Americans. Stanton heads back to Washington, leaving the 16th to carry on with their search. In a flashback scene, we see Stanton and a delegation of Black leaders three months before the assassination discussing the land grant program with General Sherman in Georgia. After the appeal, Sherman agrees to the proposition. Back in D.C., Stanton confronts Johnson about abandoning the Freedmen. But the President has already been convinced by Southern statesmen to end the land grants. Back at the War Department, Thomas Eckert advises Stanton not to quit over this loss but to stay on and protect the rest of Lincoln’s reconstruction plans.

Back in Maryland, Mary Simms reads the announcement that all land grants are suspended and realizes her dream of starting a school on her new property is not to be. She returns to Dr. Mudd, who takes her back as his servant, but not before beating her offscreen as a lesson for “running off.” After landing in Virginia, Booth and Herold walk through the day before coming across an empty cabin. They bed down for the night but are awakened the next morning by the cabin’s owners, William and his teenage son Charley Lucas. At gunpoint, Booth and Herold force the Lucases to hide them in their wagon and transport them to the Rappahannock River ferry. The fugitives wait at the ferry crossing with the same band of wounded Confederates Stanton and the 16th NY stumbled across earlier. One of the wounded Confederates engages Booth in conversation after noticing his tattooed initials. Booth demurs at first, giving an alias for himself and Herold. However, after the wounded Confederate starts to question aspects of the pair’s service record, Booth drops the charade and announces his identity to the whole gathered group. He is surprised to see that the men do not see him as a hero but a coward who shot an unarmed man.

When the ferry arrives to take them across the river, only one Confederate talks with the men. He is Willie Jett, and he explains that he is going to marry a wealthy woman in Bowling Green, so he’s not afraid to talk to the assassins like the rest of the men. Jett advises the pair to go to the farm of Mr. Garrett on the other side of the river for he might give them a place to rest. Booth thanks Jett. When the Black ferry operator, Jim Thornton, gives Booth a look, the assassin yells that folks like him “don’t get rewards.” Back in Washington, Eddie Stanton returns and tells his father that the 16th NY is still looking for Booth around the Potomac River. Eddie then recalls that Dr. Mudd lives near the “secret line” stop of Bryantown. Sec. Stanton rides down to Dr. Mudd’s farm in Charles County and interrogates the doctor. The beleaguered Mary Simms silently directs Stanton to search the upstairs room where Booth had been treated. The Secretary finds the boot that Mary had put under the bed after the assassin departed. Inside the boot, Stanton finds the damning initials, “J.W.B.”

Back downstairs, Stanton accuses Mudd of having known Booth previously. Mudd denies he knew the men who came to his house or what they had done. Here, Mary Simms finally finds her voice and tells Stanton that Mudd was lying and that he knew both Booth and John Surratt. Under Mudd’s protestations, he is arrested and taken away. Stanton, admiring Mary’s bravery and knowing she was now out of a job, offers her a place in a Freedmen’s camp in Arlington. The Secretary also realizes that a broken-legged Booth would blend in well with a group of wounded Confederates making their way South. Stanton once again uses his teleporter to make his way down to the ferry landing on the Rappahannock accompanied by Eddie, Eckert, and the 16th NY Cavalry. Ferryman Jim Thornton tells the men that Booth crossed the river earlier that day and that he had conversed with a regular named Willie Jett, who stays at the Star Hotel in Bowling Green. Meanwhile, we cut to Booth and Herold at the Garrett farmhouse. Booth has a fever and is being given a bath by Julia Garrett, who calls him a hero to the cause. Stanton and the cavalry appear in Bowling Green, and Willie Jett is found at the Star Hotel. The man who claimed he wasn’t afraid of the law immediately folds and tells Stanton the fugitives were likely to be found at the Garrett farm. Excited to capture the men before daybreak, Stanton rushes to his horse when his ever-worsening asthma causes him to collapse. Unable to go on himself, Stanton sends the 16th NY on with Boston Corbett leading the charge back up the road to the Garrett farm.

Before I discuss some of my criticisms and my analysis of fact vs. fiction in this episode, I want to highlight things that I liked about it.

• “I almost enlisted once.”

At the very beginning of the episode, when the pair land their rowboat in what proves to be Maryland, Booth observes the dead Confederate soldiers on the shoreline and relates how he “almost enlisted once.” He mentions the “low wages” and “terrible food” that “those poor bastards” had to endure. He also complains about the uniform and how he prefers to choose his own look. These are largely throwaway lines, as the real focus is on Davy, who is actively consulting the compass and apparently determining they are in Maryland. However, there is a grain of truth in Booth’s recounting of a soldier’s life. In reality, John Wilkes Booth did enlist once, but not during the Civil War. Instead, Booth spent a little bit over two weeks as a part of a local militia, the Richmond Grays, at the end of 1859. This was during the time when Booth was learning his craft as a lowly stock actor attached to a theater troupe in Virginia. He performed under the name “J. B. Wilkes” and played supporting roles to the visiting stars.

Booth was in Virginia when abolitionist John Brown enacted his famous raid on Harper’s Ferry. The slave uprising Brown hoped to inspire did not occur. Brown was captured alongside many of his fellow raiders and tried for treason against the state of Virginia. Brown was found guilty, and his sentencing took place on November 2. He was sentenced to death, with his execution being scheduled for December 2. During the interim between Brown’s sentencing and pending execution, rumors began to build that efforts were being made to free Brown from his prison cell in Charlestown, VA (now Charles Town, WV). As a result of these rumors, Virginia Governor Henry Wise called up state militia groups to report to Charlestown in order to guard Brown and prevent any plots to free him. During Booth’s time in Richmond, he had befriended several men who were part of the local militia group known as the Richmond Grays. Inspired by the call for guards, Booth left the theater troupe and joined up with the Grays as they loaded up onto a train bound for Charlestown. For two weeks, Booth played the role of a soldier. He was assigned duty as a sergeant with the regimental quartermaster’s department.

John Wilkes Booth’s signed pay claim for his time as a Richmond Gray.

For these two weeks, Booth acted as a clerk and occasional guard outside of Brown’s prison. This culminated with Booth seeing Brown in his cell on the eve of the abolitionist’s execution. Booth stood by and watched as Brown was hanged on December 2, becoming slightly queasy from the scene. A few days later, Booth was back in Richmond and managed to reacquire his position with the theater troupe due to the intervention of his fellow Grays.

While brief, Booth’s “gone a soldiering” period made an impact on the future assassin. When he was younger, Booth had written jealously of the noble fighting of soldiers in distant countries. His time with the Richmond Grays allowed Booth to see the reality of a soldier’s life. He experienced the drudgery, boredom, and lack of autonomy of being a lowly private in a military unit. I believe his experience of having to take orders and complete menial duties with the Grays is what caused Booth to avoid enlisting when the Civil War began. Booth’s sense of self-importance would not allow him to follow the orders of others. He wanted the glory of being a soldier, but he didn’t want to have to work for it. Instead, he wanted to be the one in charge. This is alluded to in the miniseries when, on the river bank, Anthony Boyle’s Booth wonders about the position he will be given by Confederate officials when they get to Richmond. He, of course, concludes that he will be made a general.

While this series never goes into Booth’s time as a soldier with the Richmond Grays, this brief scene does a good job of alluding to Booth’s experience as a quasi-enlisted man. It shows Booth’s distaste for following orders and why he could never bring himself to actually fight for the cause that he claimed to hold dear.

• Boston Corbett

My list of favorite character performances increased with this episode. While I’m still a fan of Glenn Morshower’s depiction of the duplicitous Andrew Johnson and Damian O’Hare’s reliable Thomas Eckert, William Mark McCullough’s portrayal of Boston Corbett grabs your attention from the moment he turns up on screen. With a few lines from colonels Baker and Conger, we are given a modified backstory for the future avenger of Lincoln. Then, through monologue and a snowy flashback, more of this unique gentleman’s history is shown.

While William Mark McCullough is considerably larger than the actual Corbett, who was left even thinner after experiencing the worst of Andersonville prison, the actor expertly brings his own sense of divine madness to the character. After watching this episode for the first time, I discussed it with my good friend, Steven Miller, THE expert on Boston Corbett and the 16th NY. We both noted how impressed we were at McCullough’s performance. Later in this review, I’ve included Steve’s assessment of the facts in the Corbett scenes. I’m sure you won’t be surprised to learn that the writers took some creative liberties here, but this is one of the few times where I felt that the choices they made were actually done well.

• This episode is about the manhunt

Out of all of the episodes, this one is my favorite because of one simple idea: this episode, more than any other, is actually about the escape of Booth and the manhunt to find him. We’re not wasting time with the fictional George Sanders intrigue anymore, and the secondary plotlines don’t take up as much time in this episode. For the first time, Booth’s escape and the efforts to find him are the main focus. With that being said, this episode is also the most frustrating one so far because very little of Booth’s escape during this period is accurate. Instead, it is significantly shortened, incorrectly represented, and the search by the 16th New York is dramatically altered. This is why this review, out of all of them, has taken me the longest to write. Still, this episode comes the closest to what I expected from a series called Manhunt.

Let’s dig now into the fact vs. fiction of this episode and learn about the true history surrounding these fictional scenes.

1. Crossing the Potomac

As much as I enjoy part of the initial scene where Booth reflects on not joining the Confederate army, several glaring errors occur here. The pair is supposed to be landing at Nanjemoy Creek in Charles County, Maryland. After failing to cross over into Virginia, the actual Booth and Herold stayed in this area called Indiantown Farm for about 48 hours. Local lore states that they remained hidden in an old slave cabin that still exists on the property. Then, on the night of April 22, they attempted to cross the river again under the cover of darkness, and this time, they were successful at making it to Virginia. The series shortens this part considerably. After Davy determines they have landed in Maryland by mistake, they immediately prepare to take the river again during the daylight hours.

The real fugitives would never have risked setting off on the Potomac during the daytime, where they would have been easily spotted by the different ships patrolling the river and the soldiers on either shore who were looking for them. But, for the sake of moving the story along and for the ease of filming during the day, I can understand why the miniseries chose to truncate this. The very wild curveball the series throws during this scene, however, is the numerous dead Confederate soldiers strewn near the riverbank in Maryland. There is no explanation for this camp of dead Confederates. It seems their existence in the story is merely to give Booth and Herold a convenient way to change their clothing.

Both Booth and Herold put on the dead Confederates’ uniforms and wear them for the rest of the escape. In reality, this never happened. At the Garrett farm, Booth did attempt to swap his suit with one of the Garrett son’s old Confederate uniforms, but Will Garrett declined this offer. Booth and Herold wore their civilian clothes throughout their escape, and Davy was photographed wearing the same clothing he was arrested in.

I can only assume that the writers decided to have Booth and Herold change their clothing in this scene as a setup for the later “reveal” at the Rappahannock Ferry landing, where one of the wounded Confederates calls the fugitives out for posing as soldiers. But, of course, that scene is also fictitious. We’ll get to that later.

2. Boston Corbett’s backstory

Here’s some of what Steve Miller, the expert on Boston Corbett and the 16th New York, had to say about the accuracy of the character of Boston Corbett in this episode:

“First off, the writers did a masterful job of introducing him as a new character. In a tightly written couple of scenes they managed to give his backstory succinctly and set him up as major impediment to Booth’s plans.

I have a couple of quibbles with their version of Corbett’s story. There is NO, I repeat ZERO evidence that he was an alcoholic. Yes, he was a widower; his “good Christian wife”, Susan Rebecca Corbett (not “Emily” like in the series) died of “disease of the liver” not from a troubled pregnancy. (These ideas were not created by the Manhunt writers, however. Many books have made both claims, but there is no substantiation for them. They just keep getting repeated.)

Corbett was shown sitting alone in the rain, engaged in a conversation with the Lord. He was described by a friend as being “the only man in our regiment who openly professed his religion.” This was not a big deal in the 16th NY Cavalry, but he had frequently been physically assaulted and suffered continual tormenting in the infantry unit he had belonged to before.

I would like to have had the writers tone down the “crazy eyes” portryal of Corbett a little. Many shows which bother to portray self-identified Christians at all, overplay them as totally consumed near jihadist zealots or hypocrites. Corbett was evangelical, of course, but he did not try to impose his beliefs on others. The tenants of his faith were to tell the truth, perform good works, and bear witness to God’s grace. As he usually did, he even prayed for Booth’s soul as he fired to keep Booth from harming others. That would have been a nice bit of dialog to add.

I’m not sure that Corbett personally led the charge back to Garrett’s farm. (BTW, the farm was roughly fifteen miles from Bowling Green. That’s where Stanton was being treated in the miniseries.) Corbett was very active during the last phase of the search/capture, but he was fourth in command of the 29-man posse. Doherty (who was left out of Manhunt altogether), Byron Baker and detective Conger were in command.”

I will add more of Steve’s thoughts when we get to the next episode. Even with these historical quibbles, we both agreed that Cobett was well portrayed.

3. The Missing Leader: Lt. Doherty

Edward P. Doherty of the 16th New York Cavalry

As Steve mentions at the end of his comments above, there is a noticeable absence within the men of the 16th New York Cavalry in this miniseries. For unknown reasons, this series decided to eliminate the leader of the Lincoln Avengers: Lt. Edward Doherty. While arguments over the payouts for reward money will forever impede our ability to know who was truly “in charge” of the group that hunted down and killed John Wilkes Booth, there’s no arguing that the leader of the soldiers themselves was Lt. Doherty. When the rewards were eventually paid out, Doherty received $5,250 – the largest share of any of the detectives and troopers. He played an important role in tracking down and capturing Booth but is nowhere to be seen in the series. With so many characters, it would be understandable for some to be cut out, but Doherty seems like an odd omission, given his importance. What makes it even more confusing is that they have a Doherty look-alike with the 16th New York.

Looking at this screenshot, you would think you were looking at Lt. Doherty and Luther Byron Baker (cousin to Patton Oswalt’s Lafayette Baker). However, while the actor on the left, Judd Lormand, is wearing Doherty’s signature mutton chops, he does not play Lt. Doherty but is credited as Everton Conger. Like Luther Byron Baker, Everton Conger was assigned to the 16th New York in a detective capacity. He and Baker also took key roles in the manhunt for Booth. Why the production chose to put Doherty’s facial hair on the actor playing Conger is unclear. The real Conger was bearded, much like Baker. He’s a picture of the real Conger and Baker that they posed for after successfully tracking down Booth.

It’s unfortunate that the production decided to omit Lt. Doherty from his rightful place, but even more baffling that they decided to make Everton Conger look just like the man they erased from the story.

4. Booth and Herold’s April 23rd is Much Altered

In the series, the uniformed Booth and Herold land in Virginia on their second attempt and immediately begin walking. We are led to believe that they walk through the day until they stumble across an empty cabin at night, where they make themselves at home. It is not until the morning that the cabin’s owners, a Black father and son by the name of William and Charley Lucas, return. While it is true that Booth and Herold did sleep the night of April 23 in a cabin belonging to the Lucases, the series has removed quite a bit of activity between their arrival in Virginia and their stay at the Lucas cabin.

Here’s a brief synopsis of what occurred for the real Booth and Herold on April 23, as told through screenshots from my digital map of Booth’s escape:

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As can hopefully be seen from these screenshots, upon their arrival in Virginia, Booth and Herold received far less than a warm welcome. April 23rd is a key part of Booth’s escape. In Maryland, Booth was fairly well taken care of. Dr. Mudd set his leg and let him rest at his home. While Samuel Cox forbade him from staying at Rich Hill, he did arrange for Thomas Jones to care for the men in the pine thicket and eventually set them across the river. As the miniseries accurately shows, Booth truly thought he would be greeted as a hero in the South. The hardship of living in the pine thicket for over four days was made tolerable by his belief that he would be welcomed with open arms by the people of Virginia. Yet, the second he arrived on the Virginia shore, no one wanted anything to do with him. Even though Mrs. Quesenberry had helped with the Confederate mail line, she was nervous to have the fugitives near her house. She pawned the men off on Thomas Harbin and Joseph Baden. These fellow Confederate mail agents believed the fugitives to be too hot for them and quickly passed them to farmer William Bryant. He took the men as ordered to the home of Dr. Stuart. The wealthy doctor and Southern planter gave the men a meal but refused to render medical aid to Booth and would not lodge them for even a night. In the end, the racist Booth is forced to sleep in the home of a Black family. This series of events was a massive blow to Booth’s ego and severely deflated him. Rather than being treated as the savior of the South, these Virginians wanted nothing to do with him. It’s too bad the series couldn’t have shown the process of humbling Booth and how he came to realize how alone he truly was.

5. At the Rappahannock River

The series did not completely neglect knocking Booth down a peg or two. Rather than showing his treatment by several Virginian civilians, the series instead decided to create a fictional scene between the assassins and several wounded Confederates at the Rappahannock River. Here, we see Booth and Herold waiting on the ferry in Port Conway with the same group of homebound Confederates Sec. Stanton ran into a few scenes earlier. The lead unnamed Confederate bearing an eyepatch, notices Booth’s initials of JWB and makes the connection to Booth. Instead of revealing his identity, Booth gives his name as John Wilson Boyd and introduces Davy as his cousin Larry. Eyepatch asks Mr. Boyd where he got his “glory,” i.e., his noticeably broken leg. Booth responds with, “Bull Run” before asking Eyepatch where he earned the medal pinned to his chest. Eyepatch replies, “Bull Run,” before saying that Booth and Herold’s uniform don’t match “what we wore there.” Booth understandably replies that he has changed his clothes since the battle. But Eyepatch is unconvinced and calls the men cowards for falsely posing as veterans. This pushes Booth over the edge, and he removes his 1st Texas Infantry cap, runs his fingers through his hair, and vainly identifies himself as having been at Ford’s Theatre on April 14th. At first, Davy tries to pass this admission off as a joke, but Booth doubles down, announcing himself as the assassin of Lincoln. Booth tells of his glorious act and fully expects the soldiers to fawn over being in his presence.

The news, however, goes over like a lead balloon. Eyepatch calls his act despicable and spits at the ground before Booth’s feet. The other Confederates mostly nod in agreement with Eyepatch or are completely nonplussed by the whole thing, more focused on their injuries and desire to get home. Booth is only saved from more humbling by the ferry, which arrives from Port Royal. Eyepatch asks the ferry operator, Jim Thornton, how far it is from the ferry landing in Port Royal to the Union office. Thornton replies the Union office is just directly across the road.

As the men line up and prepare to get on the ferry, only one soldier is willing to talk to them. Though not identified at the time, we come to learn that this is Willie Jett. He asks Booth and Herold where they are going and Booth replies Richmond. Herold asks if Jett can help them. Jett recommends the men stop at the farm owned by a man named Garrett, who owns horses they might be able to use. He says that Garrett’s farm is the “first farm before town center” and that he might host them for a price. When Booth asks what is wrong with the rest of the soldiers, Jett explains that the last thing any of them want is to be arrested for helping the assassins of Lincoln. Booth then asks why Jett is so willing, and Jett replies that he’s going to marry the wealthiest girl around, so he doesn’t care about the law. Still, aside from suggesting the Garrett farm, Willie Jett does not provide any other assistance to the fugitives. The scene ends with the men about to board the ferry to Port Royal.

Let’s break down what we have just seen in this fictional scene and compare it to Booth and Herold’s actual time near the Rappahannock. Booth and Herold were the only two people waiting on the ferry after they arrived at Port Conway via Charley Lucas’ wagon. It wasn’t the busiest of crossings, and it appears that Booth and Herold were unaware that they were supposed to hail the ferry boat in order to get it to come across the river. Impatient to continue south, they found a local resident named William Rollins, who was preparing his boat and nets for some fishing in the river.

William Rollins

They asked Rollins if he knew of anyone in Port Royal who might furnish them with transportation to Orange Court House. Rollins said he did not know of anyone, so the pair asked if Rollins himself might guide them. As the series shows, Booth was claiming to be a wounded Confederate soldier at this time, though he was still wearing his civilian clothes, so Rollins had no reason to suspect the men. Orange, Virginia, was the home to a railroad hub that Booth and Herold intended to use in order to get further South. However, even using modern roads, Orange is about 60 miles from Port Royal, and William Rollins had never been there. His best offer was to take the strangers to Bowling Green, about fifteen miles to the southwest. Booth and Herold agreed to this and asked if Rollins would take them across in his boat. Rollins said he would, but not at this moment, as the tide was nearly ready, and he needed to put his nets in the river in order to catch some shad. Booth and Herold would have to wait.

While Rollins took his boat out into the river to set up his nets, three Confederate soldiers rode into Port Conway. They were Willie Jett, Absalom Bainbridge, and Mortimer Ruggles. Like the fictional Confederates in the miniseries, these men were making their way home now that the war was effectively over. The three men hailed the ferry boat at Port Royal and waited as the operator, Jim Thornton, started the slow process of preparing the ferry and pushing it across the water towards them. During this time, Davy Herold started up a conversation with the Confederates, trying to learn more about them and where they were going. According to Jett, Davy claimed his name was David E. Boyd and that his companion was his brother, James William Boyd, not John Wilson Boyd and cousin Larry, as the miniseries states. Davy said they were both Confederate veterans from Maryland and that they desired protection and help from these men, their fellow soldiers. Booth was fairly quiet during this period and let Davy talk. Remember that Booth had been quite humbled by this point due to the less-than-helpful treatment he had received from others in Virginia up to this point. Eventually, it was Herold who confessed to the Confederates their true identities as “the assassinators of the President.” The three Confederates agreed to provide some assistance to the fugitives.

Not long after, William Rollins returned from setting up his nets. He asked Booth and Herold if they still wanted a ride across the river and escort to Bowling Green. Davy replied that they had met up with some friends (Jett, Ruggles, and Bainbridge) and that they no longer needed Rollins’ services. However, before the ferry arrived, Davy did ask Rollins if he could borrow some ink. Rollins allowed Davy and Jett into his home, where he saw Davy write out a document of some kind. According to Jett, Davy was copying down a fake parole document that the pair could use in case they ran into trouble. It is also likely that it was during this time that both Booth and Herold composed the following document. It is two poems, the top written by Booth and the bottom written by Herold. My best attempt at a transcription of the poems follows the image:

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 in Eclipse
She shyly clung upon his arm
He stayed him at the door
“I could not love thee, dear, so much,
Loved I not Honor more”
“Adieu forever more, my dear,
Adieu forever more!”

In truth, we’re not exactly sure when and where Booth and Herold composed this poem during their escape, but it’s possible it occurred while waiting at the Rappahannock as an autograph of sorts for Willie Jett.

Eventually, Jim Thornton arrived with the ferry on the Port Conway side of the river. In those days, the ferry was essentially a flat-bottom barge. Thornton pushed the barge across the river using a long pole, not unlike Charon, the Greek mythological figure who was said to transport the souls of the dead over the River Styx in such a manner. This type of ferry continued to be used at this crossing until 1934 when a bridge finally connected the two port towns. Here’s a picture of the Port Conway/Port Royal ferry circa 1930, which was not all that different from when Booth and Herold crossed sixty years earlier.

6. In Port Royal

Rather than just leaving Booth and Herold with some advice, as the miniseries’ Willie Jett does, the real Jett and his companions actively looked to see if they could find someone in Port Royal to take in the fugitives for a day or two. This included knocking on the door of Sarah Jane Peyton, who originally agreed to take in a wounded Confederate soldier, only to change her mind once she saw Booth’s condition.

The Peyton House in Port Royal, VA.

After trying a couple of other houses in town with no success, the decision was made to ride about two and a half miles out of town to the farm of Richard Garrett, whom Jett knew by reputation. Mr. Garrett had a large farm and two sons who had recently returned from Confederate service. The hope was that he would be happy to take in a stranger or two for a few nights. The men then rode out of Port Royal to the Garrett farm, with Booth and Herold sharing a horse with Ruggles and Bainbridge.

All of the events that took place in Port Royal are cut out of this episode. The next time the miniseries shows Booth and Herold after the ferry landing scene, they are walking on a road in the woods near sunset. Booth is using his crutch and trying his best, but he is clearly in pain. After cursing for a bit, he tells Davy that he can’t make it to Richmond tonight. The pair veer off their path, and a convenient road sign states that it was 50 miles to Richmond. How Booth and Herold ever thought they were going to walk to Richmond is beyond me. Luckily for them, the sign says their new route is only 2 miles from Bowling Green.

This road sign indicates that the pair have walked right through Port Royal and many miles past the Garrett farm. Here’s a map to demonstrate what I’m talking about.

I have circled the towns of Port Conway on the north side of the Rappahannock River, Port Royal on the south side, and Bowling Green, which is about 13 miles away to the southwest. The green pin marks the location of the Garrett Farm. The red pin marks the approximate area where the fictional roadsign in the series would be, 2 miles away from Bowling Green. As we can see, if Booth really did find himself two miles away from Bowling Green, then he had drastically overshot his target.

These scenes just show how poorly the series understood the geography of Booth’s actual escape. This is further shown by the fictional Willie Jett’s description of the Garrett farm being the “first farm before town center.” This doesn’t make any sense. The Garrett farm was located after the Port Royal town center from the perspective of a traveler crossing the river from Port Conway. Based on the road sign and the fact that the next scene shows Booth and Herold at the Garret farmhouse, makes it clear that the writers confused Port Royal with Bowling Green. Rather than putting the Garretts on the outskirts of Port Royal, the farm has transported itself to just outside Bowling Green.

Poor Port Royal, which actually has a nice Museum of American History featuring artifacts connected to Booth’s escape, is completely left out of the narrative of this series.

7. The Garrett Farm

We only have a brief scene of Booth and Herold at the Garrett farm in this episode. It consists of Booth being bathed by Julia Garrett, one of the Garrett daughters, who calls him a hero. As it probably goes without saying, this scene is entirely fictional (and creepy). None of the Garretts knew Booth’s identity until after he had been shot by Boston Corbett. In addition, while Julia Frances Garrett was a member of the Garrett family, she died in 1851 at the age of 10 months.

I’ll have more to say about Booth’s final hours at the Garrett farm in the next episode review (whenever I get around to that), but in a nutshell, this episode left out the fact that Booth was dropped off at the Garrett farm on April 24 and Davy did not initially stay with him. Davy rode on with Jett, Ruggles, and Bainbridge towards Bowling Green. While Booth spent his first night in the Garrett house, sleeping in a bed and cared for as a wounded Confederate soldier, Davy spent the night outside of Bowling Green at a different home with Absalom Bainbridge. The next day, Davy returned to the Garrett farm with Bainbridge and Ruggles and asked to join Booth, which was granted. All in all, Booth spent about 40 hours at the Garrett farm before his death, while Davy was only there for about 15 hours.

Quick(ish) Thoughts:

• While a compass is a helpful tool for telling you what direction to travel, it does not tell you where you are. Davy using the compass to determine they are still in Maryland rather than Virginia at the beginning of the episode doesn’t make logical sense.

• Booth is still on about going to Richmond despite everyone and their mother having told him the Confederate capital has fallen and is occupied by the Union. Again, the real Booth knew Richmond was a no-go, and he was heading for the Deep South instead.
• Andrew Johnson’s meeting with Southern representatives is interrupted by protestors calling him illegitimate. The President states the protesters have kept him up at night. This never happened. While Johnson was certainly criticized in places like the press, the White House was not the site of civil protests of this sort. That is a more modern practice.
• When Stanton and his son come across the 16th New York Cavalry, he orders them to search all the places on the fictional “secret line” established in the prior episode. Eddie Stanton, Jr. is seen passing out small pieces of paper to some of the troopers, apparently of the addresses on the “secret line.”

The diminutive size of these notes, however, could easily be confused with period carte de visite photographs, which would actually be correct. In order to help identify Booth, the War Department cranked out hundreds of copies of Booth’s photograph and gave them to the many military units searching for Booth, including the 16th NY. After Booth was shot and carried to the porch of the Garrett house, Boston Corbett took out the copy of Booth’s photograph that was given to him during the manhunt and had the Garrett family conclusively identify the wounded man on the porch as the same man from the image. I originally thought the miniseries had gotten this detail right and that Eddie was passing out copies of Booth’s photo before I realized these small papers were supposed to be related to the “secret line.” So close.

This image of the assassin was duplicated and given out to numerous soldiers on the manhunt for Booth.

• As mentioned above, the geography of this episode is very confusing. At the end of episode 4, Stanton, Eddie, and the random Union soldier are riding down the road toward Southern Maryland while perplexingly saying, “To Virginia.” Today, the Route 301 bridge connects Charles County, Maryland, to King George County, Virginia, but this bridge did not exist in 1865. The only way to get to Virginia from the route taken by Booth and Stanton at the end of episode 4 was to cross the Potomac River on your own using a rowboat or ship. We never see Stanton actually cross a single bridge or catch a ship across any rivers during this episode. As a result, it is unclear where Stanton meets up with the 16th NY and orders them to follow the “secret line.” Since some of the secret line sites include Bryantown and Samuel Cox’s Rich Hill, one would think the troopers are waiting somewhere in Maryland. In reality, the 16th NY was stationed in the Lincoln Barracks in D.C., quite close to Secretary of State William Seward’s home behind the White House, when they were ordered to a nearby wharf in order to be steamed downriver to Belle Plain, Virginia. It is equally uncertain where Stanton and the 16th NY come across the group of wounded Confederate soldiers bound for “Port Conway and Bowling Green,” both of which are in Virginia. So perhaps the 16th was meant to have been in Virginia the whole time, and Stanton just used his teleporting abilities to hop over the Potomac? It’s really a nightmare, geographically speaking.

• I made an appearance on the Civil War Breakfast Club podcast not too long ago for a talk about the miniseries as a whole. During our almost 2 hour discussion of the series, Darin and Mary educated me about General Sherman and Special Order 15, which gave land grants to the formerly enslaved. The series portrays Mary Simms receiving a land grant in Charles County, Maryland. In this episode, Johnson rescinds the land grants, and Mary Simms is forced to give up her new home. She then returns to Dr. Mudd, who beats her for running off. Aside from the strange nature of Mary Simms returning to Dr. Mudd instead of trying to find employment elsewhere, Darin and Mary explained to me that the “40 acres and a mule” program described in the series did not take place in Maryland. Special Orders 15 only related to the formerly enslaved men and women who traveled with General Sherman’s army during his march to the sea. The only land granted by these orders were coastal properties in Georgia and the Carolinas. While there is a flashback scene showing Stanton trying to get Gen. Sherman to agree with the program, which is closer to being accurate, in reality, Special Order 15 would not have affected anyone in Maryland.

• The series shows both William and Charley Lucas transporting Booth and Herold in a wagon down to the Rappahannock River. In reality, only Charley went with the fugitives, and this was to ensure that the men would not attempt to steal the horses and wagon. While I appreciate William and Charley commenting on the fates of traitors as they drive Booth south, there is no evidence that any of the Lucases knew who Booth and Herold were or what they had done.
• At the ferry landing, Booth says he was wounded at Bull Run. At first, I assumed that Booth calling it Bull Run would be the dead giveaway to Eyepatch that he was an imposter. Bull Run was not the name the Confederates used for either of the two battles that occurred near the Prince William County, Virginia, city of Manassas. Since these two battles, the first in 1861 and the second in 1862, took place near the Confederate city of Manassas, the Confederacy referred to these as the Battle of First Manassas or the Battle of Second Manassas. The Union referred to these battles as the First Battle of Bull Run or the Second Battle of Bull Run after the name of a stream that passed through the battlefield. Thus, Booth calling the battle Bull Run should have exposed him as a Northerner. Unfortunately, Eyepatch the Confederate says he earned his medal at Bull Run. So either Eyepatch is also a Northerner posing as a Confederate, or the writers were unaware of the difference in names for this battle.

• Eyepatch’s claim that Booth’s uniform “isn’t what we wore there [at Bull Run]” is confusing. I’m guessing he’s trying to say that the 1st Texas Infantry, the regiment shown on Booth and Herold’s caps, wasn’t at the Battle of Bull Run. If Eyepatch was talking about the First Battle of Bull Run in 1861, he would be correct. The 1st Texas Infantry hadn’t been formed when this battle was fought. However, the 1st Texas Infantry did exist by the time the Second Battle of Bull Run occurred in 1862 and was a part of that battle. So there’s no reason for Eyepatch to have questioned Booth and Herold’s service by their clothing alone.
• This episode really tests the viewer’s suspension of disbelief by having Booth announce his identity to a giant group of people while a wanted poster offering $50,000 for his capture is a few feet away from him. It further establishes that a Union office is located across the road from the ferry landing in Port Royal. It even implies that Eyepatch is going to rat Booth out since he asks about the office immediately after spitting on Booth and condemning his actions. Worse yet, Booth reminds everyone at the ferry that there is a reward on his head when he yells to Jim Thornton, the Black ferry operator giving him a look, that folks like him “don’t get rewards.” In this scene, Booth is essentially begging one of these men to turn him in, and it’s beyond belief that none of them did.

• This episode shows Dr. Mudd being arrested by Stanton himself after Mary Simms tells the Secretary about how Mudd knew the assassin and John Surratt. Since Mary Simms is a fictional version of a real person who was not there in 1865, it goes without saying that this scene is fictional. Dr. Mudd was first visited by troopers on April 18 and questioned about the two visitors he had during the early morning hours of April 15. On April 21, Dr. Mudd was taken to Bryantown for further questioning but allowed to return home on April 22. Then, on April 23, the doctor was arrested and taken up to Washington for more questioning and eventually put on trial as a conspirator.

• Stanton and the 16th NY question ferryman Jim Thornton in Port Conway, who tells them about Booth and Herold crossing the river earlier that day. In reality, when the 16th NY (without Super Stanton, of course) arrived in Port Conway on April 25th, they learned from William Rollins that a wounded man matching Booth’s description crossed the Rappahannock the day before. William’s wife Bettie provided the vital information that Booth was accompanied by Willie Jett, who was likely to be found in Bowling Green. Since they cut William Rollins from the series, it makes sense for this information to come from Thornton. However, it is funny to note that after Thornton tells Stanton that Willie Jett can be found in Bowling Green, rather than crossing the river to actually go to Bowling Green after him, Stanton and the troopers head back north – the opposite direction. Never fear, however. Two scenes later, Stanton and the soldiers are magically in Bowling Green despite having never crossed the Rappahannock River.

This was truly a massive episode to cover in a historical review. I enjoyed that Booth and Herold were the central figures in this episode and that the manhunt for them was finally the main plotline. However, it was disappointing that the most Manhunt-esque episode of the whole series was essentially nonstop deviations from the actual facts. I’m once again filled with the opinion that this series would have been so much better suited if it had not been called Manhunt and thus hadn’t inherited an expectation for accuracy. Had this been a differently named Edwin Stanton miniseries, then it would be much easier to accept all the fiction like any other Hollywood take on reality. But Manhunt, the book, is nonfiction, and so the expectation is that Manhunt, the series, would try its best to be as well. But, sadly, this was not the case. Don’t get me wrong, I still enjoy the show for what it is, but this episode, more than the others, made me yearn for what it could have been.

I’ll see you back sometime in the future for a review of the penultimate episode, Useless.

Dave Taylor

I am conducting an ongoing review of the seven-part AppleTV+ miniseries Manhunt, named after the Lincoln assassination book by James L. Swanson. This is my historical review for the fourth episode of the series “The Secret Line.” I previously posted a prologue to this episode, which contained a summary of the episode and my overall thoughts regarding the historical accuracy of this series. For full context, I recommend you read that post first before continuing. To read my reviews of other episodes, please visit the Manhunt Reviews page.

Episode 4: The Secret Line

A summary of the events of this episode can be read in my Prologue post.

Before diving into the fact vs. fiction of this episode, I want to highlight things that I liked about this fourth episode of Manhunt.

• Mary Simms quits

Chronologically, the real Mary Simms left Dr. Mudd’s farm about 5 months before the assassination. At the beginning of this episode, we finally get to see what this separation might have been like. I was happy to see Mary’s emancipation from Mudd’s finally come to fruition in the series. It was rewarding for us, as the audience, to see her essentially tell Dr. Mudd off before leaving to strike it out on her own. The series finally made it clear, after being pretty ambiguous up to this point, that Mary Simms was not being enslaved by Dr. Mudd at this time but was a hired servant. Slavery ended in Maryland in November of 1864, and it was during the same month that the Mary Simms left the Mudd farm. According to her testimony, Dr. Mudd had beaten her after emancipation came, and so she left rather than continue to endure such abuse. She left the Mudd family and never looked back. During the trial, one of the defense witnesses was Julia Ann Bloise. She had been a hired servant at Dr. Mudd’s during the year 1864. She testified that Dr. Mudd never beat Mary Simms during the time she was employed there. However, she did state that Mrs. Mudd (who is absent in the series along with Dr. Mudd’s children) “struck her about three licks with a little switch” for going out walking on Sunday evening without permission. So, it may be that this physical abuse was the last straw for Mary, who was no longer bound to tolerate such things. Watching Mary Simms finally finding her voice and breaking through the mental slavery she had endured is well shown in this episode.

• “We’re Not Our Brothers”

In the New York City scene, we see Mary Lincoln conversing with Edwin Booth at a private wake for President Lincoln. This scene is entirely fictional, but I still really liked the conversation between this Booth and Mrs. Lincoln. Edwin recounts a line the President asked him to recite once, and Mrs. Lincoln recalled how much Abraham appreciated Booth’s performance of Hamlet and the theater in general. Edwin compliments the late President’s own oratory skills and then apologizes to Mrs. Lincoln personally for his brother’s crime. To this, the incredibly understanding Mrs. Lincoln states, “My brothers are Confederates, too. We’re not our brothers.” It is a very touching moment between two historical figures who suffered greatly due to the actions of John Wilkes Booth.

Of course, as I have noted before, Mrs. Lincoln did not take part in the funerary activities surrounding her husband. She did not travel with the funeral train and, as far as I know, did not attend any private wakes in New York City. Edwin Booth, likewise, would never have made an appearance at such a function, even if it did occur. After hearing of his brother’s crime, Edwin secluded himself and retired from the stage for nine months. Under no circumstances would propriety have allowed Edwin to attempt to converse with the widow Lincoln about her loss at the hands of his own blood. While the President and First Lady had seen Edwin Booth perform in February and March of 1864 when the tragedian played at Grover’s National Theatre in Washington, Lincoln and the actor never met in person.

Still, I like the “What-if?” scenario played out in this scene. It was interesting to see these two historical figures bond somewhat over the tragedy that connected them.

• Command Performances

Most of this episode’s action revolves around Edwin Stanton’s investigation into George Sanders’s fictional machinations, so the subject of the manhunt is quite secondary. This makes sense since this period is supposed to cover the four and a half days Booth and Herold were hiding out in the pine thicket. As someone who has personally reenacted this part of Booth’s escape, I can tell you that there is only so much content to be drawn out in the woods. Still, I believe credit is due for the main scene between Booth and Herold in the thicket. During this scene, Davy reads Booth’s diary (which, again, was never a book-length biography as implied but a few hastily scribbled pages done during the escape) and asks him about his childhood. Booth mentions having dressed up some of his father’s slaves as royalty, and he and his sister (likely Asia) would give them command dramatic performances. This is reminiscent of some of the stories in Asia’s biography of her misguided brother. She recounts instances where they practiced Shakespearian plays together, including reciting Romeo and Juliet from a balcony at Tudor Hall.

The balcony outside of John Wilkes Booth’s room at Tudor Hall, known as the Romeo and Juliet balcony.

Junius Brutus Booth, the elder, did not approve of slavery yet still participated in it. The bulk of the Black servants and fieldhands at the Booth farm were rented from other neighborhood enslavers. Joe and Ann Hall, two servants for the Booth family, had several children of the same age as the Booths, so JWB and Asia often found regular playmates among the Hall children.

Young John Wilkes Booth grew up in a racial hierarchy in which he was at the top. As he got older, the future assassin took on a paternalistic view toward those who were enslaved. This white supremacist view held that Black men and women were incapable of taking care of themselves and needed the white man’s guiding hand. In this way, Booth convinced himself that slavery was beneficial for Black Americans, whom he saw as children regardless of their age. This view was very common and perpetuated the “good master” myth amongst enslavers. Booth’s joking in this scene about dressing up enslaved children in fancy clothes demonstrates his view that they were little more than playthings for his amusement. It effectively demonstrates his learned version of racism.

• “I am myself alone.”

In the same scene, Booth deigned to recite something for Herold’s amusement. Davy requests poetry and asks Booth to recite some verse from Edgar Allan Poe. It’s actually rather fitting that the series has Herold announce that he likes poetry because one of the last known writing samples we have for the fugitives is a page of poetry that they wrote while on the run. However, rather than poetry, Booth convinces Davy to let him recite a few lines from Richard III instead, noting that he was well acclaimed in the role. This is truthful, as Richard III was perhaps Booth’s best role. Booth then proceeds to recite lines that aren’t in the original version of Richard III but do appear in the Colley Cibber version, which was the version of Richard III that was known and enjoyed by theater patrons. The lines go:

These lines come from John Wilkes Booth’s personal promptbook for Richard III. This book is in the collection of the Harry Ransom Center and has been completely digitized. Click the image to flip through Booth’s promptbook and see the assassin’s own handwritten notes.

This was a great quote for the production to pull. Not only does it pair well with the preceding flashback of Booth with his brother (I break that down below), but it is also a line that Booth was well acquainted with. When Booth made his debut as a starring actor in his hometown of Baltimore, theater manager John T. Ford did all that he could to draw crowds to his Holliday Street Theatre. Part of that advertisement was to play up the Booth brother angle and get the populace excited to see this new son of the legendary Junius Brutus Booth. Thus, Ford advertised Booth’s Richard III performances with the lines “I am myself alone,” daring the audience to come out and judge whether this younger son of Booth would surpass his brothers and late father.

In better times, this line from Richard III was one that helped gain audiences and bring Booth success. Yet, in this scene, the line is nicely paired with the true loneliness Booth is feeling due to his own actions.

I noted in my prologue post for this review that I wouldn’t really be dealing much with the Stanton storyline in this episode since it is 99% fiction. The scene of Edwin Stanton and George Sanders pulling pistols on each other made for some engaging drama, but the circumstances leading to this moment (and the moment itself) are complete fantasy. There are general things that were true, such as the Dahlgren affair, the attempt to burn New York City, and the Yellow Fever plot against Northern cities, all of which were real events that happened. However, none of these happened as described or portrayed in this episode. Honestly, the easy guide for this episode is that if you see Stanton doing it, it’s most likely fictional.

Still, I wanted to address a few things in this episode related to the Lincoln assassination and Booth family history.

1. Edwin Booth’s character

As I stated above, I enjoyed the fictional scene between Edwin Booth and Mary Lincoln in this episode. Actress Lili Taylor does a great job portraying a far less manic Mary Lincoln, and actor Nick Westrate bears a good resemblance to the noted tragedian.

However, aside from their scene together, this series does not portray Edwin Booth very accurately. After chatting kindly with the widow Mary, Edwin Booth interrupts Stanton’s conversation with Robert Lincoln and aggressively asks the War Secretary, “How do I restore my name? A photograph with General Grant? A White House performance, perhaps?” In a few lines, Edwin has gone from a sincere and apologetic figure to a completely self-absorbed fake, more concerned with his name than with the tragedy of the nation. The real Edwin never acted so duplicitiously. He understood the importance of mourning and recused himself from the public eye. He swore off the stage for good, and it was only the clamoring of the public that convinced him that he was not blamed for what Wilkes had done. Still, out of respect for the fallen President and the knowledge that his kin had committed such an act, Edwin Booth never performed in Washington, D.C., after the assassination. He even turned down offers from Presidents and Congressmen to play the capital city in the decades to follow but always refused. In the days after the assassination, Edwin and the rest of the Booth family were filled with a unique form of grief as they mourned both the President and their own brother. The series’ decision to portray Edwin Booth as insensitive and two-faced is a great disservice to the real man who endured an unimaginable public and private grief.

2. Richmond Again

During his conversation with Sec. Stanton, Edwin Booth states that he and Wilkes had stopped speaking on account of “politics” and because “Wilkes always played a victim” to Edwin. The actor agreed with the Secretary’s assessment that Wilkes saw himself as a hero, and Edwin claimed that upon their last meeting, Wilkes had told him that he “had love only for the South.” According to Edwin, the last time they saw each other was the day Richmond was defeated, and his brother “mourned Richmond more than I’ve seen him mourn a person.”

This ending statement is notable because it completely goes against everything we’ve seen up to now. I’ve pointed out in my prior reviews how illogical this show has been in showing John Wilkes Booth incredibly eager to get to Richmond as the real assassin was well aware that there was nothing for him in the fallen Confederate capital. Yet the miniseries has continually pushed Richmond as Booth’s intended destination. In the prior episode, Samuel Cox tells the fugitive there’s nothing there anymore, yet Wilkes refuses to accept this truth. Through Edwin Booth’s words, the series has accidentally stumbled onto a truthful statement: that John Wilkes Booth was well aware of Richmond’s fall and never would have wanted to go to the Union-occupied city. And yet, two minutes after Edwin says these words, we have the scene of Herold and Wilkes in the pine thicket still talking about going to Richmond. It’s baffling.

In reality, the brothers had not stopped speaking. Edwin knew his brother was a secessionist and supported the Confederacy during the war, and Wilkes knew his brother had voted for Lincoln. These facts did cause friction in the family, but really not to a greater degree than could be found present in countless families with split sympathies. Still, the brothers had a fairly fierce argument about the war in August of 1864, which resulted in Wilkes storming out of Edwin’s home, but it did not cause a permanent fissure. For the sake of their mother, the Booth brothers decided that it was better not to discuss politics together, though conflicts over the war continued to pop up between them. Still, Wilkes visited his brother in New York and was likely present when Edwin completed a career highlight of 100 nights straight of Hamlet in March of 1865. They were different people who lived in different worlds, but they supported each other professionally.

3. The Show Must (and Did) Go On

Immediately following Edwin’s scene with Stanton, we are given a flashback to the night of the New York City arson plot, which occurred on November 25, 1864. This was the same night that the three acting Booth brothers, John Wilkes, Edwin, and Junius, Jr., shared the stage together for the first time. They performed the play Julius Caesar as a benefit performance to raise funds for a statue of William Shakespeare in Central Park.

This Booth benefit was the project of Edwin Booth, who had been trying to arrange it since early in the summer of 1864. However, John Wilkes’s travels to the Pennsylvania oil region (and secret early plotting to abduct President Lincoln) had delayed the performance by a few months. The series is correct that an attempt was made to burn down several hotels in New York City on this date, including the LaFarge Hotel adjacent to the Winter Garden Theatre, where the Booths were performing. However, the details of the fire plot are misrepresented, and George Sanders has nothing to do with it.

In the flashback, an erroneously mustachioed Wilkes and Edwin are seen outside of the theater, watching the burning hotel. The elder brother, June, must be off taking a smoke break, as he is nowhere to be seen. Wilkes comments that while “they had to evacuate tonight,” he’s “not leaving the play.” This implies that this one-time show was canceled on account of the fire, but this is not the case. During the second act, firemen rushed into the theater and interrupted the show with the news that the nearby hotel was on fire. In the chaos that followed, Edwin broke character and assured the audience they were not in danger. A bit later, a squad of police entered and also reassured the audience that the fire had not spread to the theater so the play could go on. The Booths completed their benefit, raising about $4,000 for the Shakespeare statue that was unveiled in Central Park in 1872.

4. JWB and Edwin’s Relationship

I truly do not understand why Edwin Booth was made to play the villain in the flashback scene outside of the Winter Garden Theatre. His interactions with his brother appear to justify why Wilkes “played the victim” to him. Edwin is incredibly dismissive and talks down to Wilkes. Perhaps we are supposed to side with Edwin due to his claims that Wilkes’s Confederate sympathies are staining the Booth reputation. However, the tone of this scene makes Wilkes come across as the sympathetic Booth, belittled and abused by his demeaning older brother. After watching this scene, one would come away with the idea that Edwin is partially to blame for what his brother did, he having mistreated Wilkes to such a degree as to drive him to such extremes to be recognized.

Needless to say, there is a lot wrong with this portrayal of the Booth brothers. While Edwin was well aware of his brother’s Confederate sympathies, this was not something that either brother broadcast widely. Part of the shock of the Lincoln assassination was that the perpetrator was John Wilkes Booth, a man very few knew harbored such strong anti-Union beliefs. While some actors and stagehands knew Wilkes was sympathetic to the South, he shared this in common with a great many others in the business, and he was not considered extreme on the subject until his attack on Lincoln.

One of the most commonly repeated myths that I come across regarding the Booth brothers and their theatrical careers is the idea that Edwin split up the country and told which brother where he could perform and where he couldn’t. This is usually followed by the claim that Edwin took the North, gave California to June (who resided there), and then left the South for Wilkes. In this flashback scene, such an arrangement is alluded to with Wilkes pushing back against Edwin telling him where he can and cannot act.

After another insult from Edwin, Wilkes defiantly says that he doesn’t need the northern cities of Boston, New York, or Philadelphia and that he will happily play Virginia and other Southern states that support the “cause.” And this is where the illogical nature of the “Edwin splitting up the country tale” shows up. During the Civil War, civilians like the Booth brothers had no access to the Southern states. While Wilkes would have undoubtedly liked to have been on the Southern stages, he was cut off. There was a war going on, and you couldn’t just travel to the South for fun. If Wilkes had risked it all and illegally crossed into the Confederacy, he would never have been welcomed on the Northern stages ever again. That act would have truly stained his reputation. Had Wilkes not committed his deed, I have no doubt he would have started performing in the South after the war was over when it was allowed. But the idea that Edwin ordered Wilkes to play exclusively in the South is ridiculous. Aside from an acting engagement to the Union-occupied city of New Orleans, John Wilkes Booth did not visit the Confederate states after the Civil War began. He made his home in the Union and stuck with it, much to his (and ultimately the nation’s) regret.

This scene also shows Edwin being very dismissive of his brother’s acting ability. As I wrote in my review for episode 1, this series has done a lot to negate the level of fame John Wilkes Booth had gained. In reality, after seeing Wilkes perform in 1863, Edwin Booth wrote to a friend, “I am happy to state that [Wilkes] is full of the true grit – he has stuff enough in him to make good suits for a dozen such player-folk as we are cursed with; and when time and study round his rough edges, he’ll bid them all “stand apart…” In the early days of 1858 and 1859, when Wilkes was still a lowly stock actor learning the stage, he performed alongside Edwin when the latter came to visit as the touring star. At the end of these performances, it was not unusual for Edwin to bring his younger brother to the footlights so that he might brag about him to the audience. Edwin wanted his brother to succeed and would never have insulted his acting in the manner shown in the series. By 1865, the two brothers were close to equal in their dramatic abilities, with Edwin being at his best in the brooding roles of Hamlet and Othello, while Wilkes was the better action star in Richard III and romantic Romeo. Despite their political differences, the real Edwin Booth was always very supportive of his brother’s histrionic talents, and Wilkes respected his brother’s skills as well.

At the end of their scene together, a woman walks up and asks for an autograph. Wilkes, assuming the remark is directed towards him, says yes, only to see the woman hand the playbill over to Edwin. In taking the playbill, Edwin gives his brother an extremely condescending look. Once again, I couldn’t help but think of the short-lived comedy show the History Channel attempted called The Crossroads of History and a very similar scene where Wilkes meets some “fans” while drinking in the Star Saloon next door to Ford’s Theatre. It has the same energy.

5. Oil Investment

This is the second episode in which Layfayette Baker mentions Booth’s oil investments. In episode 2, he informed Stanton that “Booth had four meetings with Wall Street bigwigs, wanted them to invest in a Pittsburgh oil rig with him.” In both episodes, these comments are followed by theories that “oil investment” was code for the assassination plot. There is a degree of truth in these lines, but they are couched in incorrect information. John Wilkes Booth was convinced by John A. Ellsler, the manager of the Academy of Music theater in Cleveland, to invest in the Pennsylvania oil region in December 1863. The pair recruited another man, Thomas Mears, to join them in the venture. Mears was a noted prize fighter and gambler. The three men dubbed their oil business The Dramatic Oil Company and started looking for land to acquire. In 1864, they purchased 3.5 acres near Franklin, PA, about 80 miles north of Pittsburgh. They purchased all of the equipment needed to dig an oil well and hired men to do the job. They christened their well the “Wilhelmina,” named after Thomas Mears’s wife.

Several years ago, I visited the oil region and shot some shaky videos of the area around Booth’s oil interests. Today, I realized that I had never done anything with that footage, so I just uploaded the series of videos to YouTube. If you’re interested, you can check out this playlist of videos to learn more about JWB’s attempt to become an oil tycoon.

So, it is well proven that John Wilkes Booth had legitimate oil investments. None of his oil meetings involved George Sanders or any “Wall Street bigwigs,” as the miniseries claims.

However, to be fair to the series, Booth did use the cover of having been successful in the oil business in order to explain away his retirement from the stage. When friends and fellow actors inquired of Booth why he was not acting during the 1864-1865 theatrical season, he lied and said that he had made a fortune in oil. In reality, the oil business had been a financial loss to the actor, and his real interest during this period was working on his plot to abduct President Lincoln. So, in a way, the oil business became a cover for Booth’s real plot, but not in the way the series implies.

6. Getting Booth to the River

Thomas Jones (aka The River Ghost) shows back up in this episode. Snacking on a stick, he approaches Booth and Herold and tells them the time is right to head for the Potomac River. The trio walks through the windy woods, and at the end of the episode, they are shown at the bank of the river. Booth and Herold enter a small rowboat and are pushed off into the water by Grizzly Adams, who states, “Virginia will welcome you with open arms.” As Herold starts to row, Booth finally acquiesces to Davy’s earlier request for a reading from the works of Edgar Allan Poe. The actor then recites lines from Poe’s famous poem, “The Raven,” and they slip out into the dark river for uncertain shores.

With the suspenseful music in the background and the cuts back to Stanton consulting a map of “the secret line” that he discovered (nonsense, of course), Booth’s recitation is effective and would have been the best ending for the episode in my opinion.

Of course, the series only gets this part of Booth’s escape right in the big picture and not in the details. After learning that a large detachment of troopers were heading from Charles County (where the fugitives were hiding) to St. Mary’s County to the south, Jones knew that the night of April 20th was his best bet to get the men to the river. He, of course, waited until after sundown and gathered the men up. Jones arrived on horseback, and it was decided that the injured Booth would ride atop the horse while Herold walked beside it. The trio proceeded with Jones walking about 50 yards ahead of the pair, checking to make sure the cost was clear and then whistling for them to come forward. Jones would then venture another 50 yards and repeat the process. Thus, it took hours for the men to travel the four miles from the pine thicket to the spot on the Potomac River where Jones had had his servant, Henry Woodland, hide a small boat.

Since I’m apparently highlighting my own videography in this review, here’s a part of my John Wilkes Booth in the Woods reenactment from a decade ago that covers this part of Booth’s escape:

The real Thomas Jones was less certain about the welcome Booth would receive in Virginia but did direct the men to the home of Elizbeth Quesenberry. He gave them a candle and showed Booth the direction on his compass that would get them to Mrs. Q’s home on Machodoc Creek. Booth thanked Jones for the care he had given them and even gave him some money for the loss of the boat. Jones watched as the men headed out onto the river with Herold rowing. Booth attempted to cover the light of the candle with his coat as he steered the boat using an oar and kept a close eye on the compass needle. In truth, a hunched-over Booth trying to hide a candle flame would not have been as powerful as the scene the series provided, so I do prefer the series’ artistic take on this.

Quick Thoughts:

Here are some more things that stood out to me while watching episode 4 that I just don’t have the time to go into deeply.

• The first scene and one of the flashback scenes between Lincoln and Stanton revolve around the Dahlgren Affair. This was a real and still very mysterious incident in which supposed assassination orders against Jefferson Davis were found on the body of a Union colonel, Ulric Dahlgren. Such orders, if genuine, were seen as a violation of the traditional rules of war and, thus, justified similar instances of black flag warfare on the part of the Confederacy. The truth behind the Dahlgren orders and whether they were real or a Confederate forgery will never be known for certain.

• Mary Simms is comfortable quitting Dr. Mudd’s because she has a land grant from the War Department. She said the land was taken from an enslaver and was compensation for all the work enslaved folks had done. I’m not an expert on land grants and don’t know the ins and outs of the Freedmen’s Bureau after the war, but I do not think they took land from enslavers and gave it to former slaves, at least not on a large scale. While some properties were seized during the war, like General Lee’s property in Arlington, I have never heard of swatches of land in Southern Maryland having been seized and then turned over to formerly enslaved individuals. Grants did occur in the West on land taken by the government from Native tribes, but I have a hard time believing that the War Department would seize much land in Maryland, a Union state that never seceded. I’m happy to be proven wrong on this, but I have never read or heard about land in Southern Maryland being given to those who were recently freed from slavery.
• It’s a little thing, but George Sanders keeps talking about how New York City is “his city.” Dude, you’re from Kentucky. Just like KFC and Col. Sanders. Calm down.

• The stabbing attempt on Stanton by a person in a Lincoln mask is never explained. We have no idea who it is or why they were targeting the Secretary of War. It’s a fight scene that serves no purpose.
• After merely theorizing that Sanders was the source of the “$500” that Booth deposited in a bank in Montreal back in episode one, Stanton says this definitively to Sanders in this episode. We do not have any evidence that Sanders was the source of the $455 that Booth deposited. It could have easily been Booth’s own money, and since he never withdrew it, we don’t know his purpose for it.

• My family had a pet cockatiel when I was growing up, so I was curious about George Sanders’s having one named Lady in this episode. I wasn’t sure if cockatiels had been exported from Australia or had even been domesticated by the 1860s. Some online sources state that the first cockatiels arrived in Europe in the 1830s, but these lack any sources. When I search newspaper archives for the word cockatiel (and its spelling variants), the first hits I get in the U.S. are from the 1880s. The most humorous result was this advertisement for an exotic bird exhibition in Harrisburg, PA that featured a pair of cockatiels amongst many other feather marvels:

Click for the full 1881 advertisement of exotic birds.

So, I think it unlikely that George Sanders, or anyone in America really, had a pet cockatiel in 1865. But, since we are supposed to believe that Sanders is the Elon Musk of his day, perhaps this exotic bird is to show us just how rich he truly is. Still, you would think he would get a decent-sized cage for his prized parrot. Poor Lady can’t even stretch out her wings without hitting the side of her prison. And, despite Sanders’s claim that he can leave the door open and Lady would never fly out, that bird is clearly itching to escape in the one shot where the door is open.

• There’s a lot of unintentional humor in this episode, such as Stanton scolding Robert Lincoln and telling him to get it together, the random V for Vendetta masked assailant, and Stanton seeming to impersonate Clint Eastwood from Sudden Impact about to tell  Sanders to “Make my day” at gunpoint. The episode also ends with a bit of unintentional humor. In the last scene, we see Stanton, his son Eddie, and a single Union soldier all on horseback. The U.S. Capitol building is in the background on the other side of the Anacostia River, and Stanton has his fictional secret line map in hand. The men set off down the road away from Washington with the Union soldier saying, “To Virginia.

But, the thing is, they are not headed to Virginia. They are heading down the road into Southern Maryland. You can’t get into Virginia from that road unless you have your own boat (like Booth). There was no bridge connecting Southern Maryland to Virginia. If Virginia was their destination, then they should have gone back into D.C. and crossed directly into Virginia via the Long Bridge. I understand that not everyone is familiar with the geography of the area, but hearing the soldier say, “To Virginia!” and knowing that they cannot get to Virginia from there without a boat is humorous to me. Luckily, Stanton has already proven he can teleport himself around the country, so it won’t be much of a problem for him.

That’s my historical review for episode 4. While I have already seen the remainder of the series, I am going to refrain from commenting on episodes 5, 6, and 7 until I have time to write my reviews for those episodes individually. I can’t say when I’ll complete my next review, but I promise to get them all in time.

Until then,

Dave Taylor

I am conducting an ongoing review of the seven-part AppleTV+ miniseries Manhunt, named after the Lincoln assassination book by James L. Swanson. This is a prologue to my future historical review for the fourth episode of the series, “The Secret Line.” This post contains a description of the episode and some screengrabs that contain spoilers. To read my reviews of other episodes, please visit the Manhunt Reviews page.

Episode 4: The Secret Line

In this installment of Manhunt, practically all of the action is focused on Edwin Stanton’s intensifying conflict with Confederate agent George Sanders. In his newly purchased newspaper, Sanders spreads the story that the Secretary of War had authorized a failed attempt on the life of Confederate President Jefferson Davis earlier in the war. When a judge suggests that Sanders is too powerful for a warrant, Stanton goes after his support system of bankers. Stanton’s own father-in-law gets caught in the dragnet, the epitome of the 1% who cares about nothing but profits. Likely in retribution for the arrests of the bankers, Lafayette Baker’s office in New York is broken into and sacked. Files connected to Baker’s spy, Sandford Conover, are stolen, but Baker decides not to tell Stanton of this fact. Through his apparent direct line to President Johnson, Sanders has acquired a government contract to provide uniforms for the War Department. One of the first shipments is sent to a security team escorting the first family on the funeral train route. Soon after receiving their uniforms, the men fall ill from smallpox. Conover arranges a face-to-face meeting between Sanders, who has traveled from Montreal to NYC since the last episode, and Stanton himself. On the way to the meeting, Stanton is attacked by a knife-wielding figure wearing a Lincoln mask, Guy Fawkes style.

The assailant runs off before seriously harming Stanton. In his sit down with Sanders, Stanton is willing to make a “deal with the Devil.” He offers to approve Sanders’s arrangement with Johnson over the uniform contract, if Sanders will tell him where Booth is. Sanders appears to truthfully tell Stanton that, despite his wealth and connections, he is unable to tell the Secretary Booth’s exact whereabouts. Stanton then sweetens the pot, offering even more money than the uniform contract is worth if Sanders will provide a map of the Confederate agents helping Booth. Yet, to Sanders, this is a step too far. The money means nothing to him, and his real goal is to make sure the country continues to “belong to the white man” and to prevent Stanton from “giving it away.”

In true supervillain fashion, Sanders tells Stanton that there are countless men like himself who will work to prevent Stanton’s plans for Reconstruction as he pulls a gun on the Secretary. Then he brags, Trumpian-style, that he could shoot Stanton on Wall Street in broad daylight and get away with it. Looking down the barrel of Sanders’s gun, Stanton slowly draws his own and looks like he is going to take Sanders out. Instead, Stanton shoots a nearby window, sending a signal to Baker and his men to come storming in to arrest Sanders for dealing in smallpox-infected clothing. Sanders is unconcerned and is later shown bailing out and back to dealing on Wall Street. In searching Sanders’s office after his arrest, Baker finds paperwork related to Sandford Conover that clearly distresses him. Meanwhile, Stanton and his son rush to the shipments of smallpox clothing about to be destroyed. Stanton checks the “distributors list” and concludes that the names on the list are members of the “secret line” that he has been looking for.

The secondary storylines in this episode consist of Booth and Herold hanging out in the pine thicket before the River Ghost finally takes them to the Potomac River and sets them across. Mary Simms finally quits being Dr. Mudd’s servant and starts establishing a community school on the land she was deeded in the prior episode. Edwin Booth also makes his appearance in this episode as he attends a wake for the President in New York City and expresses his sympathy to Mrs. Lincoln. An unrealistic version of the relationship between John Wilkes and Edwin Booth is also shown in a flashback during an attempt to burn New York City in 1864. The whole show ends with Stanton, his son, and a single soldier outside of Washington, D.C., riding off into “to Virginia,” seemingly to catch Booth all on their own.

Prologue to a Review

A great sense of relief came over me when watching this episode of Manhunt, and that motivated me to write this prologue to my full review of episode 4, which will come later when I have more time. During the first few episodes, I tried my best to give the benefit of the doubt to the writers, understanding that I didn’t know the ins and outs of developing and pitching a historical miniseries. I attempted to justify certain decisions I disagreed with, such as the merging of real people into largely fictionalized caricatures or the use of poorly supported historical concepts, as all being done for the “greater good” of making a more cohesive and easy-to-follow narrative for a general audience. However, in my last review in particular, I struggled to bridge the ever-growing chasm between the actual history and what was presented on screen. In the beginning, I had disagreed with but accepted instances of dramatic and artistic license under the guise that they were meant to capture the spirit of the event, even if the truth of it was sacrificed. When enough actual history was combined with these instances of dramatic license, I was okay (but still not happy) with it.

Episode 4 has helped free me from my prior illusions that this series is trying to be historically accurate. All of the fantastical intrigue between Stanton and Sanders in this episode proves that there was never an intention to make an accurate retelling of the assassination and search for Booth. It is clearly meant to be a fictional drama inspired by the time period surrounding Lincoln’s death, with a heroic Edwin Stanton acting as the savior spy of the country. And that would all be perfectly fine if only it wasn’t called Manhunt.

Halfway through this episode, Jen turned to me and said, “I’ve read Manhunt. This show is not based on the book Manhunt.” And she’s right. The series may be called Manhunt, but it’s not Manhunt, which is the underlying problem. Had this series been called The War Secretary or something like that, I would be enjoying it immensely and probably celebrating the series for the few historical facts it has gotten right or close to right. There would have been no expectation for this historical drama to stay anywhere close to the true history. But when a series is titled and said to be based on a noted nonfiction book, there is a reasonable expectation that it would try its best to be accurate. The complete abandonment of historical realism or truth in this episode proves conclusively that this is not intended to be an adaptation of Manhunt but a completely new fictional drama.

None of this is to say that this episode or the series as a whole is “bad.” In fact, I found this episode particularly entertaining, if a bit silly at times. I will continue to watch this show and probably enjoy the spectacle of it. I still have nice things to say about this episode when I write my complete historical review later.

But I’m resetting my parameters for this series going forward. I am going to try to keep reminding myself that, despite the name, this series is not based on the book Manhunt, and its goal is not to be historically accurate but to tell a story of historical fantasy—a well-acted, superbly costumed, and thrilling historical fantasy with a few “bones” of truth. By removing my expectation for accuracy, I think I can finally enjoy this fictional series for what it is.

There are many pieces of media that are inspired by true events that bear little resemblance to them. As a kid, I had a VHS of the 1952 movie Hans Christian Andersen, starring Danny Kaye. It is a cute musical film about the famous Danish author. I distinctly remember how, after the opening credits, the movie started with a text card that said, “Once upon a time there lived in Denmark a great storyteller named Hans Christian Andersen. This is not the story of his life, but a fairy tale about this great spinner of fairy tales.” This is how I will approach Manhunt now. It is not the real story of the search for Booth but a fairy tale about the man who led the search. I can enjoy a compelling fairy tale as much as anyone, though I am saddened that my hopes of seeing an accurate representation of the escape and manhunt for John Wilkes Booth just wasn’t to be.

I promise to come back and give a historical review of this episode and attempt to cover the few kernels of truth that grew such a garden of imagination. The Stanton storyline here is 99% fantasy, and aside from some “quick thoughts,” I won’t have much to say there. But there’s a lot to correct about the evil “mirror universe” version of Edwin Booth shown in this episode. It was disappointing how Edwin comes off as the bad guy and JWB as the sympathetic one in their scenes together. But all that will have to wait until next time. I appreciate your understanding that the real review for this and the next episode may be awhile due to my other commitments.

Dave

I am conducting an ongoing review of the seven-part AppleTV+ miniseries Manhunt, named after the Lincoln assassination book by James L. Swanson. This historical review covers the third episode of the series, “Let the Sheep Flee.” This analysis of some of the fact vs. fiction in this episode contains spoilers. To read my reviews of other episodes, please visit the Manhunt Reviews page.

Episode 3: Let the Sheep Flee

In this episode of Manhunt, we see Booth and Herold, guided by Oswell Swann, finally make it to Rich Hill, the home of Confederate sympathizer Samuel Cox. The man offers to help the fugitives by putting them in contact with the “River Ghost” (aka Thomas Jones). Swann leads them to the pine thicket, where the two men wait. When the River Ghost does appear, he tells them the time is not yet right to cross the Potomac River. On the Stanton front, the Secretary of War’s asthma is greatly impacting his health. With grave matters of racial injustice playing out on the streets of Washington, Stanton defies his doctor’s and his wife’s orders not to exert himself. His conflicts with President Johnson increase, as the President appears to go back on his word to punish the South and its leaders. In Richmond, Major Eckert, assisted by members of the USCT, searches the remnants of Confederate offices until they found a cipher cylinder. With the key phrase conveniently taped to the bottom, Eckert can now unscramble the message found at the Surratt Tavern. The telegram from “The Office of Jefferson Davis” to John Surratt says, “Come Retribution.” Meanwhile, Lafayette Baker’s agent in Canada, Sandford Conover, is on the hunt to track down Surratt, the missing conspirator. Conover is given a clue about Surratt’s whereabouts in Montreal from a well-connected Confederate operative named George Sanders. Once Stanton is able to solve the clue, Conover makes contact with Surratt, who is hiding out as a priest. He sends word to Stanton, who travels up to Montreal to interrogate Surratt personally about Booth’s whereabouts. But, when Conover attempts to take Surratt into custody, the conspirator overpowers him and leaves him tied up for Stanton to find. Surratt successfully flees Canada, leaving Stanton without his main lead as to Booth’s whereabouts. After learning that Surratt’s ship to freedom was chartered by George Sanders, Stanton and Baker consider that he may be the mastermind behind the assassination. In the closing scenes, Sanders menacingly talks to a room full of Confederate supporters about the second chance Booth has given them and the possibility of restarting the slave trade. This is juxtaposed with Mary Simms receiving a deed in the mail from the War Department, giving her her own land grant in Charles County, Maryland.

Before getting into my review, I want to pivot to something different for a bit. Have you ever heard of the Crystal Palace Dinosaurs? They are a collection of dinosaur and mammalian sculptures located in Crystal Palace Park in southeast London. The dinosaurs were unveiled in 1854 with much fanfare as the first attempt to create life-sized models of dinosaurs and other extinct creatures. They proved incredibly popular with the public, drawing visitors to Crystal Palace Park and inspiring a new generation to take up the fairly new field of paleontology. Even now, 170 years later, these sculptures are a treasured attraction at the park, as can be seen in this video of some recent restoration that has been done on one of them:

The Iguanodon sculpture at Crystal Palace Park is a well-known example of the ever-evolving nature of scientific understanding. When the first few incomplete fossils of the Iguanodon were found, paleontologists discovered a small spike-like bone. After analyzing the bone, it was determined that this spiky bone rested on the nose of the Iguanodon in much the same way as a rhinoceros horn. Using this information, the sculptor rendered his Iguanodon sculptures with that same small nose spike.

With the discovery of more fossils in the Iguanodon genus, it was realized that this spiky bone was not a part of the dinosaur’s head at all. Instead, we discovered that this spike is located on the Iguanodon’s hand, acting as a modified thumb. This thumb spike is believed to have helped the Iguanodon protect itself against predators and possibly have been used as a tool to help break open fruits and seeds.

You’re probably wondering why I’m opening a review of Manhunt with this paleontological fun fact. Well, it’s because I couldn’t help but think of the Crystal Palace Dinosaurs while watching this week’s episode of the series. They actually have more in common with each other than you might think. Both the sculptures and the series are beautiful pieces of art. I have no doubt that, like the Crystal Palace Dinosaurs, Manhunt will inspire others to learn more about the past. I can tell you already that my website hasn’t seen this much daily traffic since the 150th anniversary of Lincoln’s assassination in 2015. Manhunt is definitely increasing awareness and interest in this crucial event in American history.

Beyond artistry and interest, however, I kept thinking about these Iguanodons with the incorrect nose spike. The bone itself was a real piece that belonged in those sculptures, but they were in the wrong place. In truth, most of the decisions about the Crystal Palace Iguanodon’s appearance are now out of date, and the sculpture bears very little in common with our current understanding of these prehistoric creatures. This is true for the other dinosaur sculptures as well. The bones might be there, but they are just in the wrong places.

That was the same takeaway I had from episode 3 of Manhunt, “Let the Sheep Flee.” Like the Crystal Palace Iguanodon, the end result of this episode bears very little in common with our current understanding of the historical record. What few correct bones there are in episode 3, are largely in the wrong places.

The first two episodes of the series contained several areas of dramatic license, exaggeration, and alterations. While unhappy with some of the changes in those episodes, I still was able to see how the series was attempting to stay true to the spirit of the history, as author James Swanson said in an interview for CSPAN about the series. In episode 3, however, I found myself frustrated as the series appeared to diverge even further from historical truth.

I am also concerned that this series is embracing the unproven theory that the Confederacy was responsible for Lincoln’s death. I worry about the effect this will have on a general audience without enough background knowledge on the subject to be able to identify this theory as purely speculative and totally unproven. While the real Stanton and others in 1865 believed that Jefferson Davis and other high-ranking officials in the Confederacy had a hand in Lincoln’s death, no reliable evidence has even been found to support this conclusion. The result of the conspiracy trial showed how weak the government’s case was against these absent co-conspirators, as they had to rely on perjured testimony and fraudulent letters in order to prove a meaningful connection between Booth and Confederate agents. In the almost 160 years since that time, no big smoking gun has been discovered connecting Booth to the Confederacy at large. As a book, Manhunt does not embrace this theory, and I’m concerned that, in an effort to bring more drama to an already compelling story, the series may make the work of historians harder rather than easier. But, like everyone else, I have not seen the complete series yet. My fears may easily prove to be unfounded.

Before diving into some of my criticisms and my analysis of the fact vs. fiction in this episode, I want to highlight things that I liked about it. Even though this was my least favorite episode so far, there were still a few things that I think the show should be commended for.

• The “Tactical” Decision

Edwin Stanton is greatly affected by the cold-blooded murder of a Black War Department soldier by a white resident at a park just outside his home. The event causes him to recall meetings he had with the President and Frederick Douglass about the idea of recruiting Black soldiers and the government’s role in helping fugitive slaves if the Union were to lose the war. These scenes show a Lincoln consistently sympathetic to the plight of Black Americans, both free and enslaved.

While the real Lincoln tried his best to be mindful of the injustices faced by Black Americans, he was first and foremost a pragmatic politician, intent on his goal of ending the war and reuniting the Union. He was also influenced by the prevailing racial prejudices and white supremacist beliefs of his time. In August of 1862, Abraham Lincoln invited a small delegation of Black ministers to the White House in an attempt to gain support from them for his plan of Black emigration. During that meeting, Lincoln read a formal statement in which he declared that:

“You and we are different races. We have between us a broader difference than exists between almost any other two races. Whether it is right or wrong I need not discuss, but this physical difference is a great disadvantage to us both, as I think your race suffer very greatly, many of them by living among us, while ours suffer from your presence. In a word we suffer on each side. If this is admitted, it affords a reason at least why we should be separated.

…We look to our condition, owing to the existence of the two races on this continent. I need not recount to you the effects upon white men, growing out of the institution of slavery. I believe in its general evil effects on the white race. See our present condition—the country engaged in war!—our white men cutting one another’s throats, none knowing how far it will extend; and then consider what we know to be the truth. But for your race among us there could not be war, although many men engaged on either side do not care for you one way or the other. Nevertheless, I repeat, without the institution of slavery and the colored race as a basis, the war could not have an existence.

It is better for us both, therefore, to be separated.”

David Blight, the author of the Pulitzer Prize-winning book Frederick Douglass: Prophet of Freedom, calls this meeting “Lincoln’s worst racial moment.” The President blamed the Civil War on the presence of Blacks in America and attempted to convince the group that the only future for the Black race was to leave America and settle elsewhere. When Frederick Douglass learned of this meeting and that the President had embraced the colonization movement that sought to evict Black Americans from their country of birth, he was furious and understandably lambasted the President in his speeches and newspaper columns.

Yet, even as the President was attempting to encourage Black leaders to support emigration, he was also secretly working on the draft of his Emancipation Proclamation. While the Emancipation Proclamation was an act of moral conviction on Lincoln’s part, as he had always seen slavery as a terrible evil, the actionable part of the Proclamation was the authorization to allow Black men to become soldiers. This was a well-thought-out “tactical” decision, as Tobias Menzies’ Stanton states in this episode. The real Edwin Stanton had also been looking for ways to utilize the thousands of “contrabands” (i.e. escaped slaves) who had found refuge within the Union lines. Stanton had advocated for the defensive use of these men to help with the war effort, and after the Emancipation Proclamation, he hoped to have “200,000 negroes under arms before June [1863] – holding the Mississippi River & garrisoning the forts so that our white soldiers can go elsewhere.” That timeline proved to be unrealistic, but by the end of the war, almost 180,000 Black soldiers had served in the Union Army at one time or another. More importantly, they were not resigned to only defensive assignments but proved the equal of any white regiment for their bravery in several battles.

I’m glad that this series took a moment to explain how the Emancipation Proclamation was a great tactical decision by President Lincoln and how it was supported by the Secretary of War. While Frederick Douglass did not meet Stanton or Lincoln until August of 1863, when he met with each man separately concerning the unequal pay between white and Black soldiers, he was still a strong supporter of the Emancipation Proclamation and the recruitment of Black soldiers.

• Booth’s CSA Dream

I liked the opening scene of the episode, which shows Booth taking the oath of office as the second president of the Confederate States of America. It is the culmination of the assassin’s hard work and shows how high the South holds him in esteem. It’s all a daydream of Booth’s, of course, as he is quickly brought back to reality by Oswell Swann literally “taking the piss” out of Booth’s illusion. This scene was an effective way to show us the severity of Booth’s delusions of grandeur, a common theme in this episode. Right after leaving his daydream, we see David Herold reading Booth’s diary and complimenting Booth on his writing. Of course, in reality, it’s unlikely Booth had written anything worthwhile in his small datebook at this point during his escape (which would still be the night of April 15-16). In fact, the only reason Booth turned to writing in his “diary” at all was because his actual last manifesto justifying his actions was burned on the night of the assassination by the man he had entrusted it to. It was only after getting access to newspapers about his crime and seeing his words suppressed that Booth was forced to make do with the small pocket datebook he carried. Still, the series accurately demonstrates how Booth was writing for an audience and for posterity’s sake. This Booth claims that copies of his diary will be in every school and library in Richmond (and, assumedly, the whole South) someday. Like the dream sequence, this shows us the vanity of John Wilkes Booth.

• Good Lookalikes for Samuel Cox and Joseph Holt

As with President Johnson, I have to give the casting and makeup departments high marks for their choices in depicting two historical characters introduced in this episode. The actor playing Samuel Cox looks quite a bit like the real owner of Rich Hill.

Actor Thomas Francis Murphy bears a strong resemblance to the real Samuel Cox.

I was also very happy to see actor John Billingsley being referred to as “Joe” by Stanton in this episode. Up until just a day or two ago, he was still listed on IMDB as playing Edward Bates, the Attorney General under Lincoln who had departed the cabinet in 1864 and was not involved in the drama that followed the assassination. Luckily, both the dialogue in this episode and his updated entry on IMDB verify that he is playing Judge Advocate General Joseph Holt. The team did a great job making him up for the part.

John Billingsley as JAG Joseph Holt

If you’re a fellow Trekkie like me, you might recognize Billingsley from his time playing Phlox, the lead physician in the Scott Bakula-led Star Trek series Enterprise from the early 2000s. He wears considerably less makeup and prosthetics in his role of Holt than he did as everyone’s favorite Denobulan.

Oh, Judge Holt, how you’ve changed.

In addition to the excellent casting and makeup, I enjoyed the brief scene between Stanton and Holt in that it provided us with great foreshadowing of the trial of the Lincoln conspirators yet to come. In this episode, Stanton appeals to Holt to ensure that the man responsible for killing the Black soldier is held accountable. He tells Holt to disobey any order to release the man and that he needs a conviction. Holt states that he understands the sentiment but isn’t sure the “precedent extends to that.” I’m confident that Stanton’s need for a conviction and influence on Judge Holt will be shown again in the closing episode(s) of the series.

• David Herold

I have to give credit to writers and actor Will Harrison for the portrayal of David Herold in these episodes. Even though he was with Booth during the entirety of his escape, Davy is often overlooked or made painfully one-dimensional in texts about the assassination. Many books try to portray Davy as nothing more than an immature child, too dull-witted to realize the implications of his choices. But this portrait of Davy has never been accurate. Yes, Davy was portrayed as dim-witted by witnesses at his trial, but this was a gambit by his own defense team. With such a mound of evidence against their client, the best they could do was attempt to prove that Herold was not culpable for his own actions. Attempting to depict Davy as slow-witted failed to prevent his death and has plagued representations of him ever since.

In this series, though, David Herold is more complex. While it is clear that Davy is still very devoted to the famous actor, through the performance of Will Harrison, we are starting to see the cracks forming in Davy’s devotion. The unequal relationship between Booth and Herold is very evident, and my favorite parts of episode 3 are the scenes between Oswell Swann and Herold, where the former forces Herold to contemplate his own importance to Booth.

While there is no evidence that any such conversations occurred, mainly because Swann didn’t know the identity of the men he guided, the sentiment behind Swann’s remarks is real enough. The real David Herold must have considered his continued presence by Booth’s side as the escape went on. On his own and without the broken-legged Booth to slow him down, Davy might have been able to make his escape into the deep South or even to Mexico. He must have considered this possibility, especially during the nights in the pine thicket or as he singlehandedly rowed them both “across” the Potomac River. Twice.

I’m very much enjoying seeing Will Harrison’s Herold continue to grapple with his choices and his reasons for staying with Booth.

Now, let’s examine some of the instances of dramatic license and historical inaccuracy that plagued this third episode.

1. Oswell Swann

I want to start off by saying that Roger Payano’s performance as Oswell Swann has been excellent. He is clearly a talented actor and gives a strong performance in this and the previous episode. My wife Jen expressed to me how much she likes the character of Oswell Swann, and I have to agree. If nothing else, the writers created an interesting character that Payano plays well.

The issue is that a lot of dramatic license has been taken with the historical figure of Oswell Swann. To return to my Iguanodon example from earlier, only a few bones of the actual man and his interaction with Booth and Herold are present in what the series has portrayed. A lot of the little stuff can be forgiven, such as the trio traveling during the daytime, the depiction of Swann taking the fugitives’ guns, or even showing Swann escorting the men to the pine thicket (Cox’s farm overseer Franklin Robey actually did that).

However, the series shows two big changes to the real Swann that I vehemently disagree with. They are the idea that Swann knew who Booth and Herold were when he was escorting them and, worst of all, that he was actively complicit in their escape. The most disturbing part of the series’ portrayal of Swann is how they have turned the mixed-race tobacco farmer with a wife and eight children into a willing and active participant in the Confederate underground. For a series that should otherwise be commended for championing Black representation in this story, I feel it is a gross miscarriage of history to place Swann on the side of those who would actively work to oppress him. There is no evidence that the real Swann assisted the Confederate underground in Southern Maryland. He was not part of the “secret line” of Confederates, as the Mudd and Cox in this series both claim.

Oswell Swann was an innocent farmer who had no inkling as to the identity of the two lost men who stumbled across his home at around 9:00 pm on the evening of April 15. He generously fulfilled their request for some bread and a drink before agreeing to help take the men (one of whom was suffering from a broken leg) to their intended destination for a small fee. There was nothing nefarious in the deed. It was merely the act of a poor, mixed-race farmer in the backwoods of Charles County, happy to make a few dollars for a simple job. When the real Swann eventually learned that the assassin of President Lincoln had suffered a broken leg, he earnestly made contact with the Union authorities to tell them of the two men he had guided to Rich Hill. He held back nothing.

In one of my earliest posts on this blog, I documented the known facts about the life of Oswell Swann and his interaction with the fugitives. Though that over-a-decade-old post is not as refined as my more recent work, I still believe the piece has valuable information about Oswell Swann. I highly encourage you to read that post and learn the real story of Oswell Swann.

As much as I enjoyed parts of the series’ version of Oswell Swann, I do not like how he is portrayed on the side of the bad guys in this story. There were plenty of real bad guys for the series to choose from. In my opinion, Oswell Swann deserves much better than to be depicted as a man who actively helped Confederates and knowingly assisted John Wilkes Booth, even if it was somewhat reluctantly.

2. Not Everyone was in the Confederate Secret Service 

I have a feeling that one of the biggest misconceptions that will come out of this miniseries is the widespread belief that the Confederacy had one of the greatest spy and underground networks of all time. Everyone we have seen help Booth on his escape so far has been part of the “secret line.” It apparently furnished John Surratt up to Montreal in record time, and Samuel Cox offered the same to Booth when he arrived. If the Confederate Secret Service was effective enough to successfully transport the most wanted men in America completely through the Union, one wonders how the Confederacy managed to lose the war in the first place.

In this episode, Samuel Cox takes Booth and Herold down into his not-so-secret windowed basement filled with documents, maps, a cipher cylinder, and even a telegraph machine. How Cox got a telegraph line installed in his home without everyone in the neighborhood, including the regular Union patrols, noticing it is never explained. From this well supplied bunker, Cox describes how, as a member of the CSS, he helps to conduct a secret war.

Yes, the so-called Confederate Secret Service existed, and yes, they did enact covert actions against the Union during the Civil War. But the actual CSS was not all that organized. While there were leaders in both the South and up in Canada, they operated more like different terrorist cells than a unified front. Each group largely made its own plans based on their own judgments of what would help the Confederacy. In reality, in isolated or unimportant places like Southern Maryland, there was no real CSS presence at all. While Samuel Cox was well known as a Confederate sympathizer and had organized a pro-Southern militia in Charles County during the secession crisis, I don’t know of any evidence that he was considered a member of the Confederate Secret Service. The greatest accomplishment of the Confederate Signal Corps in Southern Maryland was the successful smuggling of mail and men across the Potomac River. Cox’s foster brother, Thomas Jones, was the chief agent in this venture and later wrote proudly of his work. This is why Cox put the fugitives under the care of Jones when they sought out his help. There wasn’t much Cox could do for the pair on his own, and even men like Thomas Jones were little more than big fish in a small pond who had no real influence or connection to the Confederacy at large.

The Union knew that places like Southern Maryland were overrun with Confederate sympathizers who were aiding and abetting the enemy in their own small ways, but their crimes were extremely minor compared to real CSS activities like the guerilla raid on St. Albans, Vermont, or the plot to send Yellow Fever infected clothing to major Northern cities in hopes of starting an outbreak.

While the series may like the intrigue of a well-oiled and sinister Confederate Secret Service machine in Southern Maryland helping Booth to escape, the true story is far more mundane than menacing. Booth did not get the help of an elaborate spy network but from a few select Confederate sympathizers who were willing to do the bare minimum to help him get into Virginia.

3. George Sanders

I truthfully didn’t know where to start on the Montreal portions of this episode. The only correct bones in these scenes are that John Surratt, Jr. did hide out in the Canadian city after the assassination, some detectives did travel there in search of him, and that a pro-Confederate meddler named George Sanders often resided in Montreal. Beyond that, however, everything that takes place in Canada in this episode is fictitious.

Let’s start with the character of George Sanders, who is introduced in this episode as a well-connected agent of the Confederacy. After arriving in Montreal on the secret orders given by Col. Lafayette Baker in the previous episode, Sandford Conover meets with Sanders, looking to collect the reward on John Surratt and John Wilkes Booth’s heads. The immensely wealthy Sanders is humored by Conover’s desire for such a paltry sum of several thousands of dollars. Still, he playfully betrays Surratt by offering Conover a coded hint, which, of course, only the efforts of our hero Stanton back in D.C. can solve. When Stanton arrives in Montreal looking for Conover and Surratt, he runs into Sanders outside the St. Lawrence Hall hotel. Sanders’ role as a pro-Confederate activist is established by the exposition provided by Stanton in this scene, and Sanders demonstrates that he now has the ear of President Johnson. The scene ends with Sanders informing Stanton that he has just bought the Manhattan Weekly and that big news will be coming tomorrow. The next day, the front page of the fictitious newspaper contains an editorial cartoon of Booth apparently being tempted by Stanton in the form of the devil. In the closing scenes, Sanders menacingly declares to a room full of Confederate supporters that he will protect all of those who had led the Confederacy.

While the real George Sanders was conniving and worked on behalf of the Confederacy, he wasn’t quite the Lex Luthor to Edwin Stanton’s Superman as portrayed in the show. He never had Union War contracts, attempted to convince Manhattan to secede, or bought a Northern paper as claimed in this episode. During the War, Sanders acted more as an unofficial diplomat for the Confederacy in Europe, hoping to gain approval and support from foreign governments. In addition, he endorsed and supported the efforts of Copperheads and the Democratic Party to get a peace candidate elected as President over Lincoln in 1864. Such an outcome would have been very favorable to the South and would likely have prevented the country from ever coming back together. Luckily, the battlefield successes of General Sherman in Atlanta in mid-1864 helped propel Lincoln to reelection.

George N. Sanders

George Sanders’ real connection to our story actually takes place in October of 1864, when John Wilkes Booth visited Montreal in the early days of his abduction plot. Witnesses at the conspiracy trial testified that they had seen Booth in conversation with Sanders during the assassin’s 10-day visit to the city. Sanders was known for his radical ideas and had advocated for the “theory of the dagger” (i.e., assassinations) as a means of political change, especially when dealing with a tyrant. He had learned these radical ideas in the 1850s when he was living in Europe and rubbing elbows with revolutionary forces. Several authors have suggested that, during their meetings together in Montreal in October of 1864, Sanders may have influenced Booth’s plot.

The issue is that out of the six witnesses who testified as seeing Sanders and Booth together in 1864, half were later conclusively proven to have been perjurers (including Sandford Conover). Out of the three left, one was later convicted of his own fraud, though not in connection to his testimony regarding Booth. So the sightings of Booth and Sanders together are less than conclusive. In addition, we know that Sanders’ attention was very much occupied with other matters during the time Booth visited Canada. On October 19, the day after Booth arrived in Montreal, a group of Confederate guerillas dressed in civilian clothing enacted a raid on St. Albans, Vermont, robbing three banks before escaping into Canada. While arrested by the Canadian authorities, efforts by Confederate agents in Canada provided official commissions for the raiders, “proving” they were official Confederate soldiers. Due to Canada’s neutral stance in the ongoing American Civil War, the raiders were eventually released rather than being extradited, much to the anger of the Union. On October 23, Sanders left Montreal for Saint-Jean-sur-Richelieu, Quebec, where some of the raiders were held at that time. It wasn’t until three days later that he returned, and Booth left Montreal on October 27. So, while it’s possible that Sanders could have met with Booth, during this time the Confederate agent was pretty busy dealing with the aftermath of the St. Albans Raid.

George Sanders (back row) pictured with some of the St. Albans Raiders outside their prison in Montreal.

I suppose there’s nothing wrong with making Sanders the embodiment of the big, bad Confederacy for the sake of this series. After all, aside from Patrick Charles Martin, Sanders is the only “big wig Confederate type person” where some evidence exists that he may have actually met Booth. Though he was never officially a member of the Confederate government, he had his hands in several actions that were important to the Southern cause. I fully expect Sanders’ possible connection with Booth to be portrayed in the next episode, which has the descriptor “Stanton and Detective Baker investigate ties between Manhattan’s most elite Wall Street traders, the Confederacy, and Booth.”

One of the more egregious fictions in this episode, however, is the idea that Sanders was in contact with President Johnson and that they had come to an agreement. While there is a lot of deserved shade to be thrown at the 17th President, the idea that he was in active communications with agents of the Confederacy in the aftermath of Lincoln’s death is preposterous. There was no “agreement” made between Sanders and Johnson regarding anything. On the contrary, when northern papers started accusing Sanders and others in Canada of possible involvement in Lincoln’s death, they countered by noting publicly that Andrew Johnson was the only person “who could possibly realize any interest or benefit from the perpetration of this deed.” Johnson hated Sanders and his ilk of Confederate agents.

The scenes regarding amnesty or pardons for Confederates are misrepresented here as well. The series is trying to put such acts in a nefarious light, as though Johnson is selling out the country. The series never mentions that Lincoln himself had issued earlier amnesty proclamations during the war and softens Lincoln’s countering of Stanton’s aggressive retribution for the South with his own “let ’em up easy” approach to Reconstruction. I understand the impulse to paint Johnson as being too lenient with the defeated South, but it is very much exaggerated this early in his Presidency. Johnson wasn’t looking for “wins” in his first month in office. He, like everyone else, was looking for revenge for Lincoln’s death.

4. The Escape of John Surratt

We already know that the events in these episodes are not occurring concurrently but are taking place at different times and dates. Most of Booth’s movements in this episode are things he and Herold did on the night of April 15/16. In the Washington portion of this episode, Stanton’s doctor remarks that it hasn’t even been a week since Lincoln’s death. In order to tell a more easy-to-follow and compelling story, I understand the need to alter the timeline of events. However, the series’ depiction of John Surratt’s time and then escape from Canada bears very little resemblance to the actual timeline or even the actual facts of the events.

After Stanton is able to solve Sanders’ clue that “Agent Surratt is here in Montreal to visit his father,” Sandford Conover makes contact with John Surratt who is in a Catholic monastery of sorts dressed as a fellow priest. Conover tells Surratt he is there to help him escape because Stanton is on his trail. While Surratt packs, Conover slips up the means of Surratt’s intended departure, revealing himself to be not friend but foe. Surratt grapples with Conover, knocks him unconscious, and ties him to a chair. Meanwhile, in Washington, Stanton has received a communique (assumedly from Conover) that Surratt has been located. Despite the protestations of his wife to take his health seriously and not travel, Stanton tells his servant to book him a room in Montreal. We are only left to guess how that servant in D.C. was expected to communicate with a hotel in Montreal to make such arrangements. Perhaps Stanton had access to the telephone or the internet long before either was invented. Luckily for the tied-up Conover, there is an extremely fast overnight train from D.C. that gets Stanton all the way to Montreal. The Secretary releases Conover, and the pair try to catch up with Surratt before he escapes via ship.

Unfortunately for the men, Surratt has escaped by sabotaging and sinking the ship he was traveling on and then swimming to a nearby Confederate vessel that whisked him away. Stanton is angry with the U.S. Navy officers who allowed Surratt to escape. They inform him that they found something interesting among the wreckage of the ship Surratt sunk. Stanton is shown a trunk that Conover confirms was in Surratt’s room at the monastery. It bears the initials JWB and is filled with Booth’s theatrical costumes. The naval officers also state that Booth’s name was on the manifest for the ship. Stanton then makes the conclusion that Surratt was traveling under Booth’s name with his trunk in order to sink the ship and fake the assassin’s death.

I was flabbergasted watching this entire portion of the episode. The whole sequence of events was complete fantasy and not at all grounded in reality. It was a storyline you’d expect to find in a piece of historical fiction “inspired” by the assassination, not in a series that takes its name from a largely well-respected nonfiction book on the subject. This time, the bones of the truth have not only been put in the wrong places, but the entire sculpture is completely unrecognizable.

On the night of Lincoln’s assassination, John Surratt was not in D.C. nor in Southern Maryland. He was in Elmira, New York, on a prospective scouting mission of a Union prison holding Confederate soldiers. While the writing was on the wall for the end of the Confederacy, not everyone was ready to accept defeat. A hair-brained scheme was hatched by General Edwin Lee, a cousin of Robert E. Lee and a Confederate agent in Canada, to attack and free the imprisoned Confederates. Surratt had been sent to Elmira to gather information and then report back. When Surratt learned that Lincoln had been killed and that Booth had done it, he realized that his earlier connection with Booth’s kidnapping plot would incriminate him. He traveled from Elmira to Canandaigua, NY, a town about seventy miles north. He was stuck in Canandaigua for Easter, April 16, as no trains were running. On the morning of April 17, the danger Surratt was in became even more acute when the newspapers erroneously reported that he had been the man who attacked Secretary of State William Seward. Rather than escaping right into Canada by way of Niagara Falls, Surratt traveled east to Albany and then north to Whitehall, NY. From there, he boarded a steamer that sailed north on Lake Champlain, which separates New York from Vermont. He got off in Burlington, VT, and then took a train to St. Albans and thence into Canada. By midday on April 18, John Surratt was in Montreal and checked in at the St. Lawrence Hall hotel under the name “John Harrison.”

Surratt did not stay at the St. Lawrence Hall for long. It was known to be a hotbed for Confederate agents, and when Louis Weichmann arrived in Montreal with detectives on April 20, they headed straight there to consult the hotel register. Luckily, with the assistance of General Lee, who knew Surratt had not been in Washington at the time of the crime, Surratt was able to find people willing to hide him. His first benefactor was John Porterfield, a Nashville Banker with a stately home in Montreal. But Porterfield was well known for his Confederate ties, so it was determined that it would be too dangerous for Surratt to stay there long. He was then secreted by John Reeves, a working-class Canadian tailor whose Confederate sympathies were not so well known. All the while, Montreal was becoming too hot as Weichmann and his detectives kept on Surratt’s trail, and news of the reward for Surratt spread. It was decided that Surratt had to be moved out of the city into someplace safer.

On April 22, between five and six o’clock in the morning, Surratt was disguised as a huntsman and carried out of the city. He was transported to Saint-Liboire, a small parish in rural Quebec about fifty miles east of Montreal. It is here that Surratt was officially hidden by members of the Catholic faith. Surratt was introduced to the parish priest at Saint-Liboire as Charley Armstrong, an American recovering from the war. Father Charles Boucher invited the man into his home with open arms and tended to “Armstrong” who was quite feverish and weak at the time. Within about ten days, Father Boucher came to suspect that the man he was caring for might be John Surratt, who was wanted in connection with Lincoln’s assassination. When the father asked “Armstrong” if he was Surratt, the fugitive admitted it and told the priest his story. Later, at John Surratt’s trial in 1867, when Father Boucher was asked why he did not turn Surratt in, the priest replied, “Because I believed him innocent.” Surratt remained with Father Boucher in the still-isolated parish of Saint-Liboire for the next three months.

John Surratt later claimed to be completely ignorant of the trouble that befell his mother in D.C. He claimed that the men who cared for him only gave him sparse updates on the events in Washington and severely downplayed the danger his mother was in. Whether this was true or Surratt’s own later attempts to justify his lack of action on behalf of his own mother, we’ll never know. Surratt was hiding in Saint-Liboire during the entirety of his mother’s trial and execution.

Near the end of July, a servant girl caught sight of Father Boucher’s secret houseguest, and Surratt was moved from Saint-Liboire as a precaution. The manhunt had cooled considerably over the past three months, especially after Booth’s death and the trial of the conspirators. Surratt was moved to the resort town of Murray Bay (known today as La Malbaie), Quebec, about two hundred miles northeast of Saint-Liboire. Surratt enjoyed the fresh air and open water of the St. Lawrence River for a few weeks before being moved back to Montreal. Returned to the city he started in four months earlier, this time Surratt was hidden in the home of a shoe dealer whose son was a Catholic priest, Father Lapierre. From his second-story windowed room, Surratt had a view of the garden of the Bishop’s Palace, but he was not out and about clipping roses in priestly garb.

After being hidden away for the past four months, Surratt was feeling helpless and too close to the country that would never stop looking for him. He desired to seek asylum somewhere across the ocean. After receiving so much help from members of the Catholic clergy during his time in Canada, Surratt suggested to General Lee that he might find sanctuary at the Vatican as a member of the Papal Zouves, the Pope’s own army. The plan was approved and Lee was probably grateful that Surratt had suggested a course of action that would remove him from under Lee’s care and patronage. On the evening of September 15, a carriage arrived at the home where Surratt had been hiding out since his return to Montreal in August. Father Boucher and Father Lapierre were there to help Surratt during this last part of his escape through Canada. Surratt disguised himself by dying his hair dark brown and wearing a pair of glasses. The three men took a steamship from Montreal to Quebec City where transatlantic ships departed from. Fathers Boucher and Lapierre bid farewell to Surratt as he boarded the steamer Peruvian on the morning of September 16. At about 10:30 that morning, the Peruvian steamed away from Quebec City on its way to Europe. John Surratt had successfully escaped out of Canada just about five months after he had arrived.

As you can see, Surratt was not betrayed by George Sanders or any other Confederate. It was Weichmann and detectives who searched for Surratt in Montreal, not Conover and Stanton. There were no close calls that resulted in Surratt laying down the fisticuffs. Rather than getting in and out of Canada in the week after Lincoln’s death, it took five months to get Surratt out of the country. He spent most of his time hiding out in a rural Quebec parish, not in the bustling city of Montreal. And, most laughably of all, Surratt did not travel under Booth’s name, nor did he sink an entire ship in order to fake Booth’s death.

Quick Thoughts

Here are some more things that stood out to me while watching episode 3 that I just don’t have the time to go into deeply.

• Just a friendly reminder that Sandford Conover was a perjurer and a fraud who didn’t show up on the scene until the time of the Lincoln conspirators’ trial. All of his scenes in this series so far are fictional.
• Somehow, Stanton and the press know Lewis Powell’s real name from the beginning. But, there’s a reason why Betty Ownsbey named her biography on Powell Alias “Paine”: Lewis Thornton Powell, the Mystery Man of the Lincoln Conspiracy. In reality, Powell used a number of aliases. Even his fellow conspirators only knew him as “Mosby” or “Paine.” The government didn’t know his real name until long after the conspiracy trial had begun when he finally divulged his real identity to his defense attorney.
• A hood is aggressively placed on Powell’s head when Stanton interrogates him about Sanders’ clue about Surratt. The implication is that the hood was a torture device. While the conspirators who wore them probably considered them torturous, they were not used in such a way purposefully. The reason for the hoods was to prevent the conspirators from communicating with each other during their imprisonment.

• There are so many anachronistic terms in this series. Phrases like “double agent,” “stuntman,” “laundering money,” and others really pull you out of the period piece.
• Related to the last point, Stanton calls practically everyone by their first names or nicknames. William Seward is “Bill,” Andrew Johnson is “Andy,” and Joseph Holt is “Joe.” I suppose those nicknames are acceptable, but Stanton constantly calls Lincoln “Abe,” a nickname the President never liked very much. I also don’t like how Stanton addresses women by their first names, like Mary instead of Mrs. Lincoln or Elizabeth instead of Mrs. Keckley. Victorian rules of etiquette would not have allowed Stanton to be so casual with women such as the First Lady or her Black seamstress.
• Booth is still on about Richmond even after somebody finally told him that there is no Confederate leadership or adoring fans for him there. The real Booth was quite aware that Richmond had fallen and was occupied by the Union. He never would have wanted to go there.
• When Davy asks Oswell Swann why he doesn’t turn them in for the money, he replies that a Black man like himself would never be awarded reward money. While it’s true that the real Swann did not get a share of the reward, Susan Jackson, a Black servant at Mary Surratt’s boardinghouse, did receive $500 in reward money for information she gave about visitors to the Surratt home.
• “River Ghost” is not a period name for Thomas Jones. I’m pretty sure this is a descriptor Swanson made up for him in his book. It sounds all mysterious but it’s pretty silly to have Cox make statements such as “You don’t find the River Ghost. He finds you,” when, in reality, he sent his son over to Jones’s house to fetch him. When Jones came to Rich Hill as requested, Cox told his foster brother about Booth and Herold. Not to mention the River Ghost in this series looks more like Hagrid from Harry Potter rather than the scrawny Thomas Jones.

• You gotta love the code phrase for the Confederate cipher being taped to the bottom of the cipher cylinder itself. Good to know the Confederacy has the same security mindset as a grandmother who keeps all her computer passwords written on a Post-It-Note stuck to the front of her computer monitor.
• Speaking of the cipher, the super secret message that Eckert is finally able to decode is the phrase “Come Retribution.” This was actually the code phrase that replaced “Complete Victory” in Confederate ciphers starting in the final months of the war.
• Just to reiterate, the “Confederate cipher” found in Booth’s room is just a repeating grid of the alphabet. There were no actually coded letters found in Booth’s things. Click here to read an old post of mine about this nothing-burger of evidence.
• Trunks of Booth’s theatrical costumes and promptbooks were actually recovered from a shipwreck, but they had nothing to do with John Surratt or Booth faking his death. During Booth’s visit to Montreal in October of 1864, he met Patrick Charles Martin, a Baltimore liquor dealer turned Confederate smuggler. Martin is the man who gave Booth a letter of introduction to Dr. Queen in Charles County, which brought Booth into Southern Maryland for the first time. Martin was planning on running the Union blockade and traveling into the Confederacy. Having grandiose dreams of abducting Lincoln and taking him to Richmond, Booth wanted his theatrical wardrobe to be in the South for his future life there. He arranged for Martin to take his trunks of costumes on his ship bound for the Confederacy. However, Martin’s schooner, Marie Victoria, floundered in a storm and sunk two weeks later in the St. Lawrence River. All hands, including Martin, were lost. In late May of 1865, salvage operations were underway to recover some of Marie Victoria‘s cargo. When trunks belonging to John Wilkes Booth were discovered among the wreckage, they were transferred over the the U.S. consulate in Canada. Containing no secrets, the trunks were later auctioned off in admiralty court. Eventually, Edwin Booth managed to acquire his brother’s trunks from a third party. He kept John’s costumes and play books until a fire gutted the Winter Garden Theatre and destroyed them in 1867.

Patrick C. Martin, the man who drowned attempting to smuggle Booth’s theatrical trunks out of Canada in 1864.

• I’m not sure the Canadian government would have allowed the U.S. Navy to operate on their soil or impede their trade in 1865.
• When Booth and Herold are in the pine thicket waiting to meet the “River Ghost,” Davy complains about the cold and begs Booth to let him light a fire even if the smoke may attract attention. This is correct logic and why the fugitives did not have campfires during their stay in the pines. But the smoke was not the only thing that might draw attention. The light of the fire could easily be spotted at night. Yet, here the pair sit with a bright lantern in the woods, drawing attention to themselves. Where did they get the lantern anyway? They certainly didn’t have it when Swann dropped them off, and Thomas Jones only makes his first appearance later in this scene. I feel like there are other ways to shoot night scenes that wouldn’t require the actors to have artificial illumination.
• Davy is unable to shoot his horse when instructed to by Booth. Instead he fires into the air, scaring the horse and sending it galloping off. This failure leads Booth to comment that Davy is “Useless. F*cking, useless.” I enjoyed the humor of this series taking Booth’s supposed final words (minus the expletive) and attributing them to his disappointment at Davy. However, much like Davy’s aim, this horse-shooting scene is way off the mark. While the horses did make too much noise in the pine thicket and had to be dispensed with, Booth did not take part in the proceedings. Instead, our best evidence states that David Herold was helped in this task by Franklin Robey, the overseer of Samuel Cox’s farm who escorted the men to the pine thicket. The pair took the horse a good distance away from the pine thicket and into the nearby Zekiah Swamp. After leading the horses into the swamp Herold and Robey shot them both and sunk their bodies where they would not be found. Then Herold rejoined Booth in the pine thicket. One wonders if the decision Will Harrison’s Davy makes to let a horse escape will come back to bite the pair.

• After shooting the horse, Booth tells Herold that his mother hired a soothsayer to predict his future. The mystic told the family that Booth would become a hero but would die young. While this is a very basic and slightly inaccurate summary of a true enough story. When Booth was 13, he attended Milton Boarding School near Cockeysville, Maryland. At around that time, a group of English gypsies were reported to be in the woods not far from the school. On his own, Booth sought out the fortune tellers to learn something of his future. A few days later, when his mother and sisters came to see him perform in a play for the closing of the school year, Booth pulled his sister Asia aside and showed her the fortune the gypsy had told him. He had written down what she said after the fact. The gypsy had said:
  

  Ah, you’ve a bad hand; the lines all cris-cras. It’s full length enough of sorrow. Full of trouble. Trouble in plenty, everywhere I look. You’ll break hearts, they’ll be nothing to you. You’ll die young, and leave many to mourn you, many to love you too, but you’ll be rich, generous, and free with your money. You’re born under an unlucky star. You’ve got in your hand a thundering crowd of enemies—not one friend—you’ll make a bad end, and have plenty to love you afterwards. You’ll have a fast life—short, but grand one. Now young sir, I’ve never seen a worse hand, and I wish I hadn’t seen it, but every word I’ve told is true by the signs. You’d best turn a missionary or a priest and try to escape it.

  Nothing in the gypsy’s prediction mentioned Booth becoming a hero, but I suppose it would be in Booth’s character to interpret this story in the best way possible.

Those are my thoughts on the third episode of Manhunt, Let the Sheep Flee. We will have to wait and see if the series will continue to diverge even farther from the historical record. During my first watch-through I was angry at all the changes that were made. I know that some of these changes make the story more exciting, but the perfectionist in me still hates to see so many alterations to the truth, especially when some don’t seem to serve much of a purpose other than to add drama and intrigue. It wasn’t until my second watch-through that I was able to chill out a bit and resign myself to the fact that, like the Crystal Palace Dinosaurs, this series is just an impressive piece of fiction.

My review of the upcoming fourth episode will likely be delayed until after episode 5 airs. I have been devoting way too much time to these write-ups, and there are things coming up in my life that have to take precedence, including my actual job and a private speech I am giving soon about the real escape and manhunt for Booth. In addition, the great solar eclipse is going to be occurring right over my backyard in less than two weeks and I have family coming to stay with us during that time. I appreciate your patience as there is a bit of a lull in my historical reviews of this series.

Until next time,

Dave aka “The Bone Collector”