The Civil War led to a significant change for Fort Jefferson. Rather than just being a military garrison on the gulf, the fort was transformed into an isolated island prison for disloyal and criminal Union soldiers sentenced by court-martial. In this, the second part of my documentary series, I discuss the use of the Dry Tortugas as a prison, the assassination of Abraham Lincoln, and the arrival of the four Lincoln conspirators sentenced to serve time at Fort Jefferson.
In January of 1890, an article appeared in the Century Magazine by John Nicolay and John Hay, the personal secretaries of President Abraham Lincoln. For the past four years, the pair had been releasing regular articles in Century documenting the life and Presidency of their former boss. Nearing the end of their project, this 1890 chapter of their ongoing Abraham Lincoln: A History series was titled “The Fourteenth of April” and covered Lincoln’s assassination. Nicolay and Hay set the scene well, documenting Lincoln’s movements that day and highlighting the fateful events at Ford’s Theatre that evening. When discussing the moments just before the fatal shot was fired, the duo wrote:
“No one, not even the comedian on the stage, could ever remember the last words of the piece that were uttered that night – the last Abraham Lincoln heard upon earth. The whole performance remains in the memory of those who heard it a vague phantasmagoria, the actors the thinnest of specters.”
This claim – that no one could recall the words spoken on stage before the shot was fired – came as a surprise to several people who had witnessed the assassination or had heard the story from those who had been there. While the memory of the last words may have waned in Hay and Nicolay, there were some alive in 1890 who remembered well the last lines of Our American Cousin that were uttered before the building erupted into chaos. Not the least of those who remembered the event vividly was the described “comedian on the stage” himself, actor Harry Hawk.
In 1865, William Henry “Harry” Hawk was a star performer in Laura Keene’s acting troupe. Our American Cousin had been a breakout hit for the trailblazing actress and theater owner when she debuted it in 1858. Even seven years later, the play was immensely popular, so much so that Keene had gone to court against actors like John Wilkes Booth’s brother-in-law, John Sleeper Clarke, who had put on the show themselves without her consent. Even though Harry Hawk had not been part of the original 1858 cast, as part of Laura Keene’s troupe for the season of 1864-65, he aptly played the titular role of the American cousin, Asa Trenchard.
Just before Booth fired his derringer at Ford’s Theatre, Hawk’s character had been upbraided for his lack of proper English manners by the character of Mrs. Mountchessington, played by Ford’s Theatre stock actress Helen Muzzy. The flummoxed Mrs. Mountchessington, unaware that Asa had selflessly burnt the will granting him a large portion of the English estate so that members of the immediate family were not dispossessed of their inheritance, lambasted the backwoods American for not being used to “the manners of good society.” She then exited in a huff along with her daughter. This left Harry Hawk’s character as the only person present on the stage.
So, what were the last lines that Lincoln heard on stage? Well, according to the play’s script, after Mrs. Mountchessington leaves the stage, the somewhat frustrated Asa Trenchard is supposed to call after her with the comment, “Don’t know the manners of good society, eh? Wal, I guess I know enough to turn you inside out, old gal – you sockdologizing old man-trap.”
This famous line has gone down in history as the last words Abraham Lincoln ever heard, for according to witnesses, Booth used the laughter that followed this line to help cover the report of his pistol.
There is a minor fly in the ointment, however. What appears in the “script” for Our American Cousin may not be the exact lines that were spoken that night. Our American Cousin was very much a “living play” at the time it was being performed. The original version that British playwright Tom Taylor had written and sold to Laura Keene was very different from the show that became famous. Taylor’s version was a melodrama with some instances of farce. To spice the play up a bit, Keene and her original cast made drastic changes to Taylor’s work and increased the comedic aspects. Most notably, the character of Lord Dundreary was altered from a minor role with only 40 or so lines into the major comic relief of the entire play. Rather than being just a slightly out-of-touch aristocrat, E. A. Sothern, the original actor of Lord Dundreary, wholly reinvented the part, transforming Dundreary into a laughably loveable buffoon with a crazy style who talked with a lisp and uttered his own uniquely rearranged aphorisms such as “birds of a feather gather no moss.” The changes Keene and Sothern made to Tom Taylor’s work are what made the show a hit. Sothern became so popular in the role that he penned his own Dundreary spin-off shows that he acted in for the rest of his life.
By 1865, much of the show had become more structured, but ad-libbing and the alteration of lines were still common. In the years after the assassination, the show continued to evolve as well, making it unclear how much the 1869 printed version of Our American Cousin differs from what was heard in 1865. We know, for example, that Laura Keene herself did some ad-libbing at Ford’s Theatre, adding a line to draw attention to the President’s arrival after the show had started. Another adlib was made after one character stated their line about their being a draft in the English manor house, only for one of the actors to reassure the audience that, with the Civil War now practically at an end, there would no longer be a “draft” in the military sense.
One would think that our best source for the exact words said on stage would be from the man who uttered them, Harry Hawk. In the hours after the assassination, Hawk was interviewed by Corporal James Tanner in the front parlor of the Petersen House, where Lincoln lay dying. While Hawk discussed his placement on the stage and was among the first to formally identify John Wilkes Booth as the assassin, he did not mention the words he had spoken just before the shot. Over a decade ago, I transcribed a letter Harry Hawk wrote to his parents in the aftermath of the assassination. In that letter, Hawk confirms he was “answering [Mrs. Mountchessington’s] exit speech” when the shot was fired, but he does not include his lines.
The genesis of this post was a letter from Harry Hawk that I recently viewed in the Harry Ransom Center at the University of Texas in Austin. The letter is merely dated “Sept. 21” with no year given. However, based on the reference to the Century Magazine article, we can conclude that the letter was likely written in 1890 or perhaps 1891. Hawk is writing from the Camden House, a lodging establishment in Boston. The recipient of the letter is unknown, but it appears that they originally wrote to Hawk asking him about his experience the night of Lincoln’s assassination. This letter from Hawk is transcribed below:
Camden House
331 Tremont St.
Sept. 21st [1890 or 91]
Dear Sir
In reply to yours I will state, first that Mr. John Mathews, W. J. Ferguson, Thos Byrns [sic], Emerson, and myself are the last survivors of the men of that sad fateful event. That is to my knowledge. I haven’t a bill with the cast by me. In contradiction to the statement made by The Century Article last January, that, not even the comedian who was speaking at the time could remember the last words spoken is all rot. I was speaking at the time being entirely alone on the stage, and as I played the character many times after it would be very strange if I did not remember the lines and incidents. They are all indelibly impressed on my mind, and as clear as thought it occurred last night. I have positively refused to be interviewed on account of my friendship for Edwin Booth. And would not wound his feelings by permitting the papers publishing what I did and did not say. A few days after the Graphic article, I was awakened early in the morning at the Lindel Hotel St. Louis, by a reporter for the World, N.Y., to interview me regarding it. The last words spoken on that stage and the last ones dear old Martyr Abe Lincoln heard, these in reply to the old lady Mrs. Muzzy, who had just gone off the stage – I knew enough to turn you inside out – old woman, you darned old sock dolagin man trap
Resp. Yours
Harry Hawk
In this way, Harry Hawk describes the last lines heard by Lincoln as a slight variation of the lines printed in Our American Cousin. While I would like to take Hawk at his word here, we should be cognizant to remember that this letter was written at least 25 years after the events it describes. Despite Hawk’s claim that the lines and incidents are “indelibly impressed” on his mind, human memory is a fickle and unreliable thing. That is why, as historians, we try our best to find sources as close to the event as possible while the memory is still fresh and is unlikely to have been inadvertently altered by the passage of time.
A photo of Edwin Booth taken in 1892.
It appears that Hawk stayed true to his word to not discuss the events of that night with reporters so long as Edwin Booth lived. The famous tragedian died in 1893, which is probably why, in 1894, Hawk agreed to be interviewed by reporters. An article about Hawk was published in March by the Washington Post, followed by a slightly different one from a Chicago reporter in April. The second article, republished across the country, described the events at Ford’s Theatre and Harry Hawk’s experiences. In this recounting of the last words said before the shot, Hawk stated, “My lines were: ‘Not accustomed to the manners of good society, eh? Well, I guess I know enough to turn you inside out, old woman. You darned old sockdologing mantrap.’”
In some other similar articles from Hawk in 1894, the only significant change in the lines given is the use of the word “damned” rather than “darned.”
An engraving of the assassination from Frank Leslie’s Illustrated Newspaper. Here we can see Booth brandishing his knife on stage and uttering “Sic Semper Tyrannis” while a stupefied Harry Hawk looks on. In reality, Hawk fled from the stage when he saw Booth running towards him with a knife.
The exact phrasing Harry Hawk used to say his lines in Act 3, Scene 2 of Our American Cousin will never be known for absolute certainty, but through the printed script and Hawk’s own reminiscences from that night, we can get very close to the last words heard by President Lincoln. Regardless of the phrasing, as Hawk uttered these lines, “the audience clapped their hands and laughed in glee, in which the President joined with a smile.” For all the tragedy of that fateful night, we should take some solace in the fact that Abraham Lincoln’s last moments of consciousness were filled with joy and laughter.
Epilogue:
I’ve often heard the Park Rangers at Ford’s Theatre give their presentation about the assassination. As part of their schtick, they tell the audience that Lincoln was shot during the “biggest laugh line of the play” and then recite the printed line above. Other than some nervous laughter from a few who fear they’ve missed the joke, the line regularly goes over like a lead balloon. Part of the problem is that the line alone is just not that funny. It’s the character of Asa Trenchard as the American country bumpkin finally breaking loose and telling his British counterparts “what for” that makes the line funny. There’s also irony that the stuck-up Mrs. Mountchessington claims Asa doesn’t know his manners when he has demonstrated better manners than the entire household by selflessly renouncing his inheritance so that his British relatives would be taken care of. Out of context, the line just doesn’t pack the same comedic punch.
The other issue is likely to do with the word “sockdologizing.” It’s a completely foreign word to a modern audience, which creates confusion. But, in truth, it was a slightly made-up word in 1865 as well. The basis of the word appears to be “sockdolager” which an 1897 Dictionary of Slang struggled to define. The Dictionary of Slang attempts to connect it to the word “doxology,” a religious verse that is sung at the end of a prayer. In this way, a sockdolager could mean something conclusive that settles or ends something. If interpreted this way, Asa Trenchard is criticizing Mrs. Mountchessington for acting like she is the final word on everything, which is ironic since she doesn’t even know what Asa has done, and his news could “turn her inside out.” However, a “sockdolager” was also the name of a type of fish hook that closed via a spring.
A circa 1847 sockdolager fish hook. (Don’t ask me to explain how it works)
Given that the word “sockdologizing” is followed by the phrase “old man-trap,” this line could be interpreted to mean that Asa is calling Mrs. Mountchessington out for her own aggressive barbs and ruses hidden under the facade of her so-called “good manners.” In the end, we can’t be sure how to interpret the word “sockdologizing” in this line, but, at the same time, it really doesn’t matter. The creative wordplay alone invokes the sense of exasperation Asa is feeling, and that, above all, is where the humor comes from.
Aside from studying the Lincoln assassination, one of my other interests is the classic American television show, The Twilight Zone. While I doubt it needs much in the way of introduction, the groundbreaking anthology series aired from 1959 to 1964. It was the product of writer Rod Serling, who also acted as narrator for the show. With its captivating twists and perfect mixture of social commentary wrapped in science fiction or supernatural elements, The Twilight Zone is a touchstone of American entertainment. Even now, sixty-five years after its debut, The Twilight Zone remains an important fixture in American pop culture.
The series produced 156 episodes over its five year run. Many are classic pieces of television known far and wide. Just the names of episodes such as “To Serve Man,” Nightmare at 20,000 Feet,” “Time Enough at Last,” or “The Howling Man” evoke strong memories in those who have seen them. It’s practically impossible to pick a single favorite episode of this landmark series.
While I could not pick a single favorite episode of The Twilight Zone, it will probably come as no surprise that one of my favorites is the season two episode “Back There.” The episode stars Russell Johnson, best remembered for his main role as The Professor on Gilligan’s Island. In this episode of The Twilight Zone, Johnson’s character finds himself thrust back to the year 1865, and he attempts to stop the assassination of Lincoln. “Back There” may not be considered a “classic” episode of The Twilight Zone, but I feel it is well done for what it is. In the future, I may do an in-depth review of this episode, but I won’t spoil it for you now.
As part of my enjoyment of The Twilight Zone, I have recently begun listening to a podcast about the show, appropriately entitled The Twilight Zone Podcast by Tom Elliot. I’ve very much enjoyed listening to Tom’s reviews of the different episodes and pieces of trivia about their production. Tom has a great podcast voice and is very thoughtful in his analysis of each show. He gave a quality review of “Back There” even though the show has less in the way of trivia.
However, rather than sharing with you Tom’s review of “Back There,” I actually wanted to share a prelude episode he put out prior to his review. The idea of traveling back in time to save Lincoln from assassination is a concept that has been covered by many authors and in many mediums. During his research about “Back There,” Tom came across two radio plays that cover the same premise in unique ways. The radio dramas are “The Man Who Tried to Save Lincoln” from 1950 and “Assassination in Time” from 1975. Both shows have historical inaccuracies, of course, but are still entertaining examples of the “trying to save Lincoln genre.”
I’ve embedded the episode of The Twilight Zone Podcast containing these two radio shows below. If you have the time, give it a listen. You can also find this episode anywhere you get your podcasts. Just search for the “Prelude to Back There” episode of The Twilight Zone Podcast from February 11, 2016.
I’m very much late to the party when it comes to this episode and this podcast as a whole since it has been in existence since 2011. However, if, like me, you liked what you heard, there is a large archive of Twilight Zone Podcast episodes to go through, and new ones are still being produced. This weekend, for example, Tom will be in Binghamton, NY, for SerlingFest, an annual Twilight Zone-themed festival in Rod Serling’s hometown. This year, to celebrate the centennial of Serling’s birth, the city will be unveiling a statue of their famous son.
I hope you’ll excuse their brief departure into The Twilight Zone. I know I should be focusing my efforts on a different series entirely as I am very overdue with my reviews of the last two episodes of the Manhunt miniseries. While working on my review for episode 6 a few weeks ago, I got sucked down a rabbit hole that I’m still very much exploring. Eventually, I’ll get back to Manhunt, though.
Today, February 12, 2024, is Abraham Lincoln’s 215th birthday. Likely in celebration of this day, the folks over at AppleTV+ have released a second trailer for their upcoming miniseries Manhunt, based on the book by James L. Swanson. Unlike the trailer released last week, this one is in the form of a featurette and contains clips of the actors and producer of the series discussing their work. It’s still on the sort side of around two minutes in length, but this new trailer does show us a bit more of what the show will have to offer. Give the new trailer a watch:
Here are some of my thoughts after watching this new trailer:
The trailer opens with President Lincoln and United States Colored Troop soldiers walking through a severely damaged city. My guess is that this is referencing the visit Lincoln made to the fallen Confederate capital of Richmond not long before the assassination. However, the special effects of the scene could also lead one to believe this may be a dream-like sequence for the president. We’ll just have to wait and see.
We get our first glimpses of Lewis Powell’s attack on Secretary Seward and his household here. The clip quickly shows Powell’s entry at the Seward home, his bludgeoning of Frederick Seward with his gun, and his grappling with someone in the Seward house (enough to break a window). This trailer also clears up the question as to where Stanton went first. We see Stanton witnessing the bloodshed at Seward before asking if the President was still at the theater. This is in line with what actually occurred. Stanton had been informed by a messenger that Lincoln and Seward had been attacked and he had traveled to Seward’s house to dispel the rumor. When he witnessed the bloody scene at the Seward house, he then proposed to Gideon Welles, the Secretary of the Navy who had arrived at the Seward home at the same time, that he would go to Ford’s Theatre. As he was getting ready to depart Major Thomas Eckert rode up on horseback, he having just come from the scene outside of Ford’s Theatre. Major Eckert advised Stanton against going to 10th Street for fear there might still be assassins amongst the throng of people. As we know, Stanton decided to go anyway. In the trailer, the man to whom Stanton asks about the President and his whereabouts is Major Eckert.
Mary Lincoln is shown mournfully climbing the steps to the Lincoln funeral car in her black mourning attire while a steady rain falls. This is an example of understandable dramatic license on the part of the series. In reality, the bereft Mary Lincoln was too overcome with grief to participate in the public funerary events for her husband. She did not escort Lincoln’s coffin on the funeral train and, as far as I know, never set foot on the train where her husband and son’s remains were transported. The scene does make for a touching visual, though.
There are a few character collages that pop up during this trailer. The first is titled “The Hunters,” and shows the actors playing the figures of Edwin Stanton, Col. Lafayette Baker, Thomas Eckert, and Boston Corbett.
At the 40-second mark, a voice is heard saying, “It’s a code” and then a cipher cylinder is shown. It will be interesting to see how this is worked into the series. As I’ve written about previously, there’s a lot of confusion and misinformation out there about John Wilkes Booth’s so-called “Confederate” cipher. During the investigation, a paper Vigenère table in Booth’s handwriting was found in his trunk at the National Hotel. It was admitted into evidence during the trial of the conspirators. A Vigenère cipher cylinder like the one shown in the trailer was also entered into evidence. This cylinder had been captured from the Confederate offices in Richmond along with coded letters. However, there is no connection between Booth’s Vigenère table and the seized Confederate cipher aside from the format being the same. A Vigenère table is merely a tool for encoding or decoding information. We know of no coded letters written by Booth or his conspirators. The Vigenère table was likely Booth’s attempt at playing “spy,” as he would like to boast to his sister, Asia. While the Confederacy used their ciphers to send coded messages, there is no evidence that Booth ever participated in this. No coded notes from the Confederacy have ever been found mentioning Booth or his plot. The purpose of admitting the cipher cylinder as evidence at the trial was due to the fact that Confederate officials were also being tried, in absentia, for Lincoln’s murder. The fact that Booth owned a Vigenère table was the government’s weak attempt to connect Booth to the Confederate government. While having a Vigenère table may seem damning, it’s more akin to trying to connect Botoh to Jefferson Davis because they both had crossword puzzles on their desks. The government was desperate to put the blame for Lincoln’s death on Confederate officials, which is why they threw everything they could against the wall, hoping something would stick.
The second character collage grouping is called “The Conspirators” and shows John Wilkes Booth, David Herold, Mary Surratt, and John Surratt. I look forward to seeing where the miniseries places John Surratt on the night of the assassination. Will they depict him as being in D.C. that night or up in Elmira, New York, as he always stated?
While the actor playing David Herold is talking, there a brief scene is shown of a man emerging from a brick alleyway near Ford’s Theatre, likely meant to be the alley between Ford’s Theatre and the Star Saloon next door. He catches sight of Edwin Stanton and then attempts to run when he is stopped by Thomas Eckert. It all happens so fast it’s hard to tell who that character is meant to be. My best guess is that it is supposed to be Edman Spangler. I hope I’m mistaken, as that scene would be pretty unfair to ol’ Ned. Spangler never attempted to flee from the authorities who interviewed him multiple times before officially arresting him. As one of the few conspirators that most historians agree was innocent of any involvement in Booth’s plot, it’s hard to see him acting as if he had a reason to flee. But I could be wrong about my identification here.
Stanton is shown holding a Lincoln mask, complete with strings presumably for attaching to one’s face. I can’t say if masks like these ever existed. This mask is based on a genuine Abraham Lincoln face mold that the President sat for with sculptor Clark Mills in February of 1865. Plaster and bronze copies of this mold can be found in many museums and Lincoln sites around the country. Many folks confuse this mold to be a “death mask” of Lincoln made after his assassination, but it was a life mask made when the President was alive.
Clark Mills’ plaster life mask of Abraham Lincoln. 1865
The collage of “The Informants” shows the characters of Mary Simms, “Wallace,” Joseph “Peanut John” Burroughs, and Louis Weichmann. I don’t know who “Wallace” is, but that is the character name actor Josh Stewart plays, according to IMDB. My guess is that this identification is a mistake. My money is that he is supposed to be Mary Surratt’s tavern renter, John M. Lloyd.
I’m not trying to harp on it as I’m sure the actress will give a great performance, but I feel it’s important to reiterate that Mary Simms was not at the Mudd farm during John Wilkes Booth’s escape. Mary and her family had been enslaved by Dr. Mudd, but they left the Mudd farm in 1864 when they were freed after the new Maryland state constitution prohibited slavery. Mary Simms did testify at the trial of the conspirators, but her testimony had nothing to do with John Wilkes Booth. She was a prosecution witness against Dr. Mudd, testifying about his Confederate sympathies and disloyalty during the Civil War. Mary Simms did not interact with John Wilkes Booth during the escape. All of the scenes where they appear together or of her at the Mudd house in 1865 are completely fictitious.
Since the actual layout of the box at Ford’s Theatre has not been replicated, the assassination scene has been understandably altered. In the trailer, we see Major Rathbone apparently jump down to the President’s box after the shot. Booth slashes at him a couple of times, knocking him back. Rathbone does not appear to make a last-second grab at the assassin’s clothing as he testified. Instead, the miniseries appears to show that Booth gets tripped up by the decorative flags, a common enough version of the events. The portrait of Washington that was affixed to the front of the actual box does not appear to be present in this recreation (or if it is, it does not get knocked to the stage when Booth makes his jump).
I do like how one audience member is seen to climb onto the stage and give chase to Booth after the shot. That’s a nice nod to Major Joseph Stewart, “one of the tallest men in Washington,” who was the only audience member to quickly run after the assailant.
There’s a scene of a mustache-less Booth riding fast through a village of some sort during the daytime. This is likely another case of dramatic license. After shaving his mustache off at Dr. Mudd’s, Booth made his way under the cover of darkness to Samuel Cox’s home and was then secreted in a nearby pine thicket. Once in the thicket, Booth and Herold’s horses were disposed of. After this, the only times Booth rode on a horse was when sharing it with another person and never at breakneck speed. It certainly helps with the action, though.
Mary Simms is shown in conversation with Louis Weichmann, apparently motivating him to disclose all that he knows. As far as I know, Mary Simms and Louis Weichmann never interacted with each other. While Weichmann was arrested and pressed to divulge what he knew about the conspirators, Mary Simms was never arrested. She was only brought forward to testify at the trial a month after the assassination.
As we expect with trailers, the last bit is full of quick edits that build up the action. The scenes fly by so fast that it’s too difficult to break them all down. But I am curious as to what urban-looking building is on fire at the 1:45 mark, the identity of the pretty lady apparently tending to Booth at 1:46, and is Stanton holding a baseball in his hand when he embraces Lincoln at 1:34?
I enjoyed hearing the cast speak about the series. Patton Oswalt, in particular, seems like he enjoyed his role, which is wonderful to hear.
The costuming for all the characters is really well done. Everything looks the period as far as I can see, and the details are exceptional.
I’m not sure if they will tease us with another trailer between now and the miniseries’ debut on March 15, but if they do, I’ll be sure to let you all know. I’m really looking forward to seeing the whole thing in about a month’s time.
An interesting article has been published in The American Journal of Forensic Medicine and Pathology by Drs. Theodore N. Pappas, Sven Swanson, and Michael M. Baden from the Department of Surgery at Duke University School of Medicine. The authors attempted to come to a conclusion about an oddly debated detail of Lincoln’s assassination: the path the bullet took inside Abraham Lincoln’s skull.
In the journal article, the doctors discussed the contradictory evidence that exists regarding the path Booth’s bullet took as it was fired into Lincoln’s brain. This debate is not a new one, as fellow MDs and late Lincoln researchers John K. Lattimer (whose diagram is shown above), Blaine Houmes, and E. Lawrence Abel each wrote about this topic.
What makes this new journal article unique is the way in which Drs. Pappas, Swanson, and Baden, were granted access to the Presidential Box to re-stage the assassination based on eyewitness accounts. They attempted to simulate the circumstances surrounding the assassination to get a better idea of the path the bullet may have taken. I’m happy to see Ford’s Theatre allowing this scientific exploration, even though the process involved a somewhat eerie floating skull over the reproduction Lincoln Rocker.
I won’t spoil the doctors’ findings here. Instead, I encourage you all to read the article for yourself. As far as scientific journal articles go, this one is very easy to digest. Click here or on the following title to read their article on The American Journal of Forensic Medicine and Pathology‘s website:
I’m grateful to these doctors and the ones who came before them for using their expertise to help further our understanding of this key event in American history.
AppleTV+ released its first trailer today for its upcoming miniseries based on the Lincoln assassination book, Manhunt: The 12-Day Chase for Lincoln’s Killer by James L. Swanson. I have previously written about this new series that is set to debut on the streaming service on March 15. This trailer gives us our first real look into the series, which will focus on the efforts of Secretary of War Edwin Stanton to track down Lincoln’s assassins. Give the trailer a watch:
I had a few initial thoughts while watching this trailer.
Anthony Boyle, the actor playing John Wilkes Booth, looks pretty good in the role. He has a decent resemblance to the assassin, much more so than some of the reenactment Booths used in some TV documentaries about the assassination.
Booth yells “Freedom for the South” from the theater box. While a limited number of eyewitness accounts claimed Booth might have yelled, “Freedom!”, “Revenge for the South!” or “The South is avenged!” I don’t recall reading “Freedom for the South!” before. It’s certainly not in Swanson’s book. The overwhelming evidence is that Booth said, “Sic Semper Tyrannis!” after shooting Lincoln, though whether this was in the box or on the stage is debated.
Stanton is shown learning of Lincoln’s assassination while riding a carriage during a fireworks display. Fireworks are also shown as Booth is riding out of Baptist Alley behind Ford’s. While visually appealing, the Grand Illumination in D.C. featuring fireworks was technically on the night of April 13, not the night of Lincoln’s assassination. Also, Stanton learned of the attack on Secretary Seward first. It was when Stanton arrived at the Seward house to check on the Secretary of State at about the same time as Secretary of the Navy Gideon Welles that he was informed that Lincoln had also been targeted. However, this trailer may be depicting that event as it’s unclear from the clip where Stanton is supposed to be.
Booth is shown interacting with and seemingly threatening actress Lovie Simone, who plays the part of Mary Simms. As I previously noted, Mary Simms and her siblings left the Mudd farm in 1864 and were not around in 1865. Booth did not interact with Mary Simms during his escape.
The interior of Ford’s Theatre replicates the stage set of Our American Cousin well, but the theater box looks nothing like the real thing. It appears that Major Rathbone and Clara Harris are seated in their own box a few feet above the President and Mrs. Lincoln. It’s too bad the actual box appearance and layout couldn’t be recreated.
The overhead shot of Lincoln’s plain coffin being carried down the circular stairs of the Petersen House is an effective one.
At the 1:06 mark, you’ll see the actor playing Booth’s slayer, Boston Corbett. The actor’s name is William Mark McCullough. Coincidentally, he played John Wilkes Booth in 2015 Smithsonian Channel documentary, Lincoln’s Last Days.
There’s just a flash of the conspirators seated in their courtroom at the 1:13 mark. I can easily make out a hunched and bearded George Atzerodt, but I’m not sure about the other two men visible. Mary Surratt is erroneously shown placed amongst the men.
A man is shown in daylight pulling guns on the fugitives and stating, “I know who you are Mr. Booth.” I was uncertain who this figure was supposed to represent, but looking through the cast list on IMDB, it seems this is actor Roger Payano in the role of Oswell Swan. Swan guided Booth and Herold across the Zekiah Swamp to Samuel Cox’s home of Rich Hill. However, this occurred at nighttime, and Swan didn’t know the identities of the men he took over the swamp. He certainly didn’t pull a gun on them.
At 1:30, blink and you’ll miss actor Matt Walsh as Dr. Samuel Mudd handing something to Herold and Booth while a servant (likely the anachronistic Mary Simms) watches in the background. From this quick shot, Walsh looks good as Dr. Mudd.
The music in this trailer is quite good. I hope the actual show utilizes some of the songs included here.
From this trailer, it’s clear there will be a lot to talk about when the miniseries airs. What are your thoughts on this first look?
On December 23, 1883, a tragedy eighteen years in the making occurred in Germany. For the prior nine months, an American couple, their three children, and their nanny had been living in the German city of Hanover. The couple was independently wealthy and often split their time between a home in Washington, D.C., and various long vacations abroad in Europe. Their German neighbors noted that the 46-year-old husband was “shy of human beings” but that they had lovely interactions with his 49-year-old wife and their three children, aged 13, 12, and 11. The family enjoyed life in Hanover as the children were educated in nearby schools.
Then tragedy struck just two days before Christmas. In the early morning hours, screams were heard from the room shared by the couple. The nanny, Louise, who was also the wife’s sister, entered the bedroom in response to the uproar. Louise witnessed a tragically bloody scene before her. Her sister was sprawled on the bed with two bullets in her chest and a knife wound to her heart. Within minutes, the woman was dead.
On the floor lay the husband. He had been stabbed five times, with one of the wounds striking his lung. In severe pain, he cried to Louise and to his wife for help. But Louise was focused on the bed above him. The husband gathered his strength and pulled himself onto the bed. The shock of seeing his wife’s bloody and lifeless body caused the man to scream out to Louise, “Who could have done this? I have no enemies!”
Louise quickly called for the authorities. When the German police arrived, the husband warned them of possible attackers hiding behind the paintings on the bedroom walls. He was taken to a hospital and treated for his stab wounds. Fearful of the well-being of his children, the man begged the police to catch the perpetrator of this violent act. The police informed the husband that the culprit had already been arrested at the scene of the crime. But it was not a man hiding behind a painting that had caused the bloodshed. It was the wounded husband, himself, Henry Rathbone, who had murdered his beloved wife, Clara.
Eighteen years earlier, Major Henry Rathbone and his fiancee Clara Harris had been invited by Abraham and Mary Lincoln to join them for a night at the theater. The young couple were happy to spend a night out with the President and First Lady as the nation was celebrating the effective end of the Civil War. Henry and Clara were seated beside the Presidential couple when assassin John Wilkes Booth snuck into their shared theater box. Before the intruder’s presence had even been detected, Booth fired his derringer pistol at the back of Lincoln’s head, fatally wounding the President.
To his credit, Rathbone reacted quickly. The army veteran grabbed the intruder and grappled with him. Booth took out a long knife and slashed at the Major. Rathbone lifted his arm to block the blade and suffered a deep and painful stab to the arm as a result. When Booth mounted the balustrade of the box, preparing to jump to the stage below, Rathbone reached for him. The Major got a handful of clothing, throwing the descending man off balance to the stage. As cries from Mrs. Lincoln and Clara Harris echoed from the box, Rathbone screamed for someone to stop that man. Others attempted to enter the box in order to render aid to its occupants, but Booth had barred the outer door shut before shooting the President. Bleeding profusely from his stab wound, Rathbone managed to dislodge the wooden bar from the outer door, allowing doctors and others to rush in. The Major nearly passed out from blood loss as all attention was focused on the unconscious President.
Major Rathbone had performed admirably in attempting to subdue the assassin at Ford’s Theatre. He recognized the gunshot and reacted far quicker to it than anyone else in the theater. Rathbone had grappled with an armed assassin at the risk of his own life. He had demonstrated true bravery.
Despite his heroics, Henry Rathbone was forever haunted by the night of April 14, 1865. He came to unreasonably blame himself for Lincoln’s death, even though there was nothing he could have done to prevent the shooting. Still, the event likely caused Rathbone to develop Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, which slowly affected his mental health.
Henry and Clara had postponed their marriage in the aftermath of the assassination out of respect for the martyred President. The couple eventually wed in 1867, and three children were born from their union. The oldest was Henry Riggs Rathbone, born on February 12, 1870. This meant that Henry’s namesake son shared a birthday with the late President Lincoln. Another son, Gerald, was born in 1871, and a daughter, Clara Pauline, came in 1872. When living in Washington, the family resided in a house located in the affluent neighborhood of Lafayette Square. From their home, the Rathbones could easily see both the White House and the home where Secretary of State William Seward was living when he was attacked by Lewis Powell on the night of Lincoln’s assassination.
Clara Rathbone was very much in tune with her husband’s mental struggles. The family’s long vacations to Europe were her efforts to bring about a change of scenery and mood for Henry, and, for several years, these effectively treated his despondency. His children were also a source of great pride to Henry, and he loved them dearly. However, Henry’s melancholic periods increased in length as the years passed. He began to grow more temperamental and aggressive towards Clara at times. In late 1882, as the Rathbones were planning their trip to Hanover, they visited family back in New York for a time. Their extended family all noticed a great change in Henry. Henry would often alter the subject of conversations to that of Lincoln’s assassination, stating his belief that the country had expected him to protect the President. His friends reassured him that this was not the case, but Henry couldn’t be swayed from his sense of guilt. The family also noticed Henry’s increased outbursts of anger. Some advised Clara to separate from Henry for a time or have him placed in an asylum. But Clara felt that Henry was better off in the company of her and their children than in the care of strangers. She loved Henry and felt she was the best person to help bring him out of his instances of paranoia. However, Clara did ask for her sister, Louise, to join the family in Hanover in order to help her with the children and Henry.
Clara Harris Rathbone
The family’s time in Hanover did little to improve Henry’s mood. Henry became increasingly irritable and paranoid. He began to believe that Clara was planning to leave him and take the children with her. Despite her constant reassurances to him that she and the children weren’t going anywhere, he continued to ruminate on the idea.
Henry became increasingly somber and distant in the days leading up to Christmas. Clara noticed the change and feared that Henry might attempt to take his own life. Henry seemed to have completely succumbed to his depression. For years, he had suffered from dyspepsia, a form of chronic indigestion, that had caused him constant pain, though how much of this physical pain was more psychosomatic is not known. Perhaps fearful of another sneak attack like the one he experienced in 1865, Henry slept with a pistol under his pillow. All of Henry’s demons took control of him on the morning of December 23.
At around 5:30 a.m., Henry arose from his bed, dressed himself, grabbed his pistol, and walked down the hall to the room where his children were sleeping. He knocked on the door, which was answered, but not opened, by Louise, who also occupied the room. Henry asked Louise through the door if Pauline was in bed. Louise replied that she was. He then asked if the two boys were in the room as well. Louise affirmed that they were. Henry told Louise to open the door as he wanted to see them for himself. In Henry’s deluded mind, the children had been taken away or were in the process of departing. Not knowing Henry was armed, Louise proceeded to crack the door, hoping the sight of his sleeping children would restore his senses.
Clara, awoken by her husband’s departure from their bedroom, had made her way to Henry by this time. She eyed the weapon in his hand and the look in his eyes. Clara attempted to calm Henry and began directing him back towards their bedroom. She called out to her sister to “lock the door and save the children; there is going to be dreadful work.”
To Henry, this command confirmed his paranoia. Clara was planning on absconding with his children and leaving him alone. He grabbed Clara by the arm and dragged her into their bedroom. Louise locked the door of the children’s bedroom and listened helplessly to the sounds of struggle from the couple’s bedroom down the hall. Louise heard the door of the couple’s bedroom lock and unlock several times. Whether Henry was trying to prevent Clara from escaping or Clara was attempting to keep Henry in the room to protect the children is unknown.
Eventually, Louise left the children alone and went to the couple’s bedroom in hopes of protecting her sister. Henry quickly escorted Louise out of the room and locked the door. Not long after, Louise heard Clara scream, “Henry, let me live!” followed by gunshots and a long silence. A house servant, aroused by the gunfire, joined Louise outside the couple’s bedroom door. Together, they two broke the door’s lock and entered the room. There, they found Clara dying on the bed and Henry with self-inflicted knife wounds on the floor.
Louise fled to her sister, whose last words were, “He has killed us both at last.”
Henry Rathbone’s trial commenced in January 1884. He was adamant that he had nothing to do with his wife’s death and that someone else had broken into his home, attacked him, and murdered Clara. Through interviews with Louise and others, the court effectively established a history of insanity on the part of Henry Rathbone. Rather than sentenced to prison, Henry was committed to an asylum in Hildesheim, Germany. He remained there for over 25 years until his death in 1911.
The three Rathbone children, left without either parent, were taken in by Clara’s brother William Harris, and moved to Ohio. In time, Henry Riggs Rathbone, the eldest child, became a Representative from Illinois and sponsored the government’s purchase of Osborn Oldroyd’s collection of Lincolniana housed in the Petersen House where Lincoln died.
Henry Riggs Rathbone in front of the Petersen House
The story of Henry Rathbone and Clara Harris demonstrates the devastating long-term effects victims of crime can face. Henry Rathbone’s mind was forever scarred by the events of April 14, 1865. His inability to save the President created a sense of overwhelming guilt from which he could not escape. This trauma festered in Henry, devastating his mind. Yet, in the end, it was Clara, not Henry, who paid the ultimate price for this trauma. Clara, herself having suffered the trauma of witnessing the shooting of the President and the stabbing of her fiancee, lost her life in trying to stop the man she loved from harming their children. In this way, both of the Rathbones proved themselves to be selfless and heroic.
While Henry is the one who killed Clara in a fit of insanity, he is not the sole answer to the question, “Who could have done this?” The blood of this Christmas tragedy is also to be found on the hands of John Wilkes Booth.
After almost two decades in developmental hell, a miniseries based on James L. Swanson’s 2006 book Manhunt: The Twelve-Day Chase for Lincoln’s Killer is finally going to become a reality. While reports said that filming on the project had been completed in 2022, nothing about the series’ possible premiere date was forthcoming until an article was published on December 13, 2023, in Vanity Fair. The article, titled “Manhunt: First Look at the Long-Awaited Show About Hunting Lincoln’s Killer” can be read in full here.
This article announced that the miniseries will premiere on March 15, 2024, on the streaming platform Apple TV+. Two episodes will be released on that day, followed by weekly releases of new episodes until the finale on Friday, April 19, 2024. This makes seven episodes of the series in all.
The Vanity Fair article provided an overview of the series, highlighting the efforts of those involved in bringing this project to life. I applaud Monica Beletsky, the showrunner and writer, for her dedication to shedding light on the unknown aspects of the assassination. The focus of the miniseries will be on Edwin Stanton, the Secretary of War, and his role as a catalyst for justice. It is refreshing to see Stanton portrayed in a heroic light, especially given the numerous conspiracy theories that have attempted to implicate him in Lincoln’s death.
The role of Secretary Stanton is played by British actor Tobias Menzies. Images provided by Apple TV+ give us our first official look at the protagonist. While I do not believe that actors have to look very much like the historical figures they emulate, I have to state that I am disappointed to see that Menzies was not given a beard for the role. Edwin Stanton wore a very recognizable beard. I understand not wanting to cover up Menzies’ handsome face, but, in my opinion, portraying Stanton without his long skunk beard is like depicting Abraham Lincoln without his iconic stovepipe hat. I suppose it’s a good thing the miniseries won’t be debuting for another three months as that will give me time to slowly come to accept this clean-shaven man as Edwin Stanton.
In addition to covering the process of creating the series, the Vanity Fair article hints at several characters and scenes we can expect in the series. I was excited to read how the character of Mary Lincoln will be portrayed. Showrunner Beletsky states in the article that Mrs. Lincoln “was owed a different portrayal” than prior characterizations of her as merely being crazy, or a burden to President Lincoln. I believe that prior media interpretations (and many historians, for that matter) have been unnecessarily hard on Mrs. Lincoln. Beletsky seems to agree, relating how the loss of her children occurred, “pre-psychology, pre-therapy, pre-understanding of trauma. I asked the question of, ‘How would you behave had you suffered so much loss?’” It will be interesting to see how actress Lili Taylor takes on the role of the First Lady during one of the most traumatizing times in her life.
The article also shows us other interesting visuals, such as comedian Patton Oswalt in the role of Col. Lafayette Baker. The leader of the National Detective Poice was a key ally to Stanton during the hunt for Booth, but his methods and character were considered extreme even to jaded politicians. I’m excited to see how Oswalt is able to capture this scoundrel of a man.
There are also a few historical inaccuracies to be found in the article (aside from Stanton’s beard). Some are small nitpicks, such as an image of Stanton and his son, Edwin Lamson Stanton, apparently on horseback on the hunt for John Wilkes Booth. While Stanton was instrumental in helping to organize the manhunt for the conspirators, he did not take part in the search himself. As the Secretary of War during wartime, he had many other duties to perform as the search was going on. While Stanton occasionally interviewed prospective witnesses, his schedule of cabinet meetings, preparing Lincoln’s funeral arrangements, and sending off telegrams to various generals in the field about the remaining Confederate forces kept him confined to Washington during the manhunt. It’s possible that the caption for the image is merely mistaken and does not actually show Edwin and his son hunting for Booth but merely riding somewhere together. Time will tell.
Another critique I have is the characterization that John Wilkes Booth’s actions may have been motivated by a sense of professional rivalry between himself and his brother, Edwin (or his deceased father, Junius Brutus Booth). This belief comes up often enough, with many others playing on the idea that Lincoln’s death was the result of some intense sibling rivalry between John Wilkes and Edwin. I think many people fail to realize that, in 1865, John Wilkes and Edwin were pretty much on equal footing in terms of fame. Granted, Edwin had some advantage over his brother because he had started his career earlier and he had ingratiated himself into New York City society. In addition, just prior to the assassination, Edwin had finished his historic run of 100 nights of Hamlet. In time, Edwin would be known as one of the greatest actors of his day and is still considered by many as the greatest Hamlet who ever lived, but his legacy was still many years in the making in 1865.
John Wilkes Booth was also a very successful actor, and it was mostly due to his own choice to stop acting in 1864 and 1865, that caused him to cede so much ground, as it were, to his older brother. There was undoubtedly some rivalry between the siblings who were engaged in the same profession, but both brothers enthusiastically supported each other. They performed together on many occasions and celebrated each other’s histrionic achievements. While the two brothers were very far apart politically, I don’t believe that John Wilkes Booth felt too overshadowed by Edwin’s success. Nor do I believe that sibling rivalry had any real influence on Wilkes’ decision to kill Lincoln. However, I accept that this is a valid interpretation for someone to have.
There is also some shakiness regarding the layout of Ford’s Theatre in the article. It states that “Lincoln’s killer could have been lost to history if Booth had quietly slipped away, backed into the corridors of Ford’s Theatre, and escaped anonymously out into the streets of Washington, DC” rather than jumping to the stage in full view of the audience as he did. Anyone familiar with Ford’s Theatre knows there was nowhere else for Booth to go after barricading himself into the corridor leading to the President’s box. A jump from the box to the stage was his only option. Even if he had removed the wooden bar he had placed to prevent entry into the box, he would still have been surrounded by angry audience members until he could get to the back of the house. There was no scenario in which Booth could have “quietly slipped away” after shooting the President as he did. Retracing his steps out of the box would have meant his instant capture.
When I first read the article, the names of the owners of the house across the street where Lincoln died were the “Petersons.” I’m glad to see that someone has since fixed the spelling of their name and the house to Petersen.
Minor issues aside, the article does include one substantive bit of historical inaccuracy that could result in some misinformation. This is associated with the fugitives’ time at the home of Dr. Samuel A. Mudd. The article provides the following image of actors Lovie Simone and Antonio Bell as Mary Simms and her brother Milo.
A good deal of the article discusses the figure of Mary Simms, a young woman who had been enslaved by Dr. Mudd and testified against him at the trial of the conspirators. Mary Simms’ testimony connected Dr. Mudd to Confederate activities during the war and was a key part of establishing his disloyal sympathies. The inclusion of Black witnesses in a criminal trial against white defendants was a historic case, and Stanton worked hard to ensure this would happen. Mary Simms was a brave woman who risked a lot to give her testimony. Her brother Milo (who believed he was only about 14 or so in 1865) also testified about conditions on the Mudd farm.
Both Mary and Milo Simms have a role in the Lincoln assassination story, and I’m happy to see them in the Manhunt miniseries. However, the caption under the images states that the two “grapple with their orders to provide aid and comfort to the fugitive assassin.” In the main article text just below the caption, it states the following:
During Mudd’s treatment, Booth crosses paths with Mary Simms (played by Greenleaf’s Lovie Simone), who was enslaved by Mudd and later testified in the investigation into Lincoln’s killing. “Mary Simms is someone that I came across in the transcript of the conspirators trial,” says Beletsky. “I found her extremely compelling. I knew that she kept house for Dr. Mudd and that her brother was considered Dr. Mudd’s carpenter. So with that in mind, when Booth needs a crutch, I have Milo, her brother, making the crutch.”
The big issue with the caption and the quote above is that Mary and Milo Simms were not at the Mudd farm in 1865. Both Mary and Milo are clear in their testimony that they left the Mudd property in November of 1864, just after the new Maryland state constitution abolished slavery, freeing them. Mary and Milo had no interaction with John Wilkes Booth during his escape, and none of their testimony at the trial had to do with the assassin himself. While the showrunner may have decided to have Milo Simms make Booth’s crutch in the miniseries, in reality, Dr. Mudd stated that the crutch was made by himself and an English handyman who resided on the farm named John Best.
Based on the descriptions in the article, we will have to see how truthful the scenes involving Mary and Milo Simms turn out to be. Any interaction between Mary Simms and John Wilkes Booth would be completely fictitious since she was no longer residing at the Mudd farm when Booth shot Lincoln.
I want to clarify that my intention is not to minimize the effort and creativity of those involved in Manhunt. I understand that historical dramas often take creative liberties to enhance the narrative. Even so-called “documentaries” are often fast and loose with the truth nowadays. However, when these liberties stray too far from the established historical record, they can have a negative impact on the viewer’s understanding of the past and cause more harm than good. It is frustrating as a historian when this happens since there are often just as creative ways of telling the story in ways that are accurate. For example, while Mary Simms was far from the Mudd farm at the time of the assassination, other men and women who were formerly enslaved by Dr. Mudd were there when the fugitives arrived. Thirteen-year-old Lettie Hall and her eleven-year-old sister Louisa Cristie had been enslaved by the Mudds, stayed with them after emancipation, and were at the home when Booth showed up. The two girls cooked and served breakfast to Booth at the Mudd home on April 15. Frank Washington had likewise been enslaved by the Mudds and was still at the farm working as a plowman in 1865. Washington was there when Booth and Herold arrived, and he personally put their horses in the doctor’s stables. When he testified at the conspirators’ trial, Washington was very nervous and was clearly conflicted about how he was supposed to testify. His desire to tell the truth was undoubtedly being challenged by his fear of retribution by his white neighbors if he spoke against the Mudds. These figures and the internal conflicts they had regarding their activities on April 15 would have been very interesting to see represented on screen. But, perhaps they still will be, and I’m getting all concerned about Mary Simms for nothing. We’ll just have to wait and see.
Despite Stanton’s missing skunk beard and the unknown accuracy of the Mary and Milo Simms portions, I remain excited about the series’ potential to reach a new audience and contribute to increased interest in this pivotal event. Though it will mean shelling out for yet another streaming service, I’m willing to throw a few bucks to Apple TV+ to watch a miniseries that I truly thought would never come. Come March 15, 2024, I’ll settle in to watch Manhunt for what I hope will be an engaging and thought-provoking viewing experience that stays true to the spirit of history.
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