Posts Tagged With: Ford’s Theatre

Abraham Lincoln’s Assassination Gloves

On May 21, 2025, Freeman’s | Hindman Auction House in Chicago, Illinois, offered 144 lots related to the life of Abraham Lincoln. “Lincoln’s Legacy: Historic Americana from the Life of Abraham Lincoln” was a landmark auction with many unique objects of Lincolniana. The pieces sold were part of the Lincoln Presidential Foundation collection. In 2007, the Foundation had purchased these items and many more from Lincoln collector Louise Taper, on behalf of the Abraham Lincoln Presidential Library and Museum in Springfield, Illinois. The original intent was for the Foundation to donate these items to the museum after it paid off the debt on the original purchase price. Unfortunately, a nasty and protracted fight occurred between leaders of the ALPLM and the Foundation, which ultimately led to the Foundation removing the Taper collection items from the ALPLM in 2022. To read the details of that whole, sad affair, check out this post. Still needing to raise funds to pay off the remaining debt of the original $23 million purchase price, the Foundation chose to sell some parts of the collection through Freeman’s | Hindman.

The 2025 auction was a massive success for the auction house, with the total sales amounting to almost $7.9 million. The centerpiece of the auction, and the lot that went for the highest amount of money, was a pair of gloves alleged to have been carried by Abraham Lincoln to Ford’s Theatre and stained with his blood following his assassination. These gloves sold for a staggering $1,512,500.

The same buyer of the gloves also purchased its sister piece – a handkerchief also said to have been carried by Lincoln to Ford’s Theatre. The handkerchief sold for $826,000.

The same buyer also purchased a ticket stub for an orchestra seat at Ford’s Theatre on the night of the assassination for $381,500.

While other objects, such as a wanted poster for John Wilkes Booth and one of the earliest writings of Abraham Lincoln as a child, also sold for high amounts, in the aftermath of the sale, most of the press reports focused on the unique “blood-stained” gloves present at the moment Abraham Lincoln was shot.

However, beyond the high-profile headlines, these gloves are not as unique as they seem. They are one of at least four pairs of gloves that have been claimed to be the ones Lincoln carried on the night he was shot. More than that, however, a deep dive into the provenance of these million-dollar gloves leads one to seriously doubt whether they were ever at Ford’s Theatre to begin with. Let’s explore the many pairs of Abraham Lincoln’s Assassination Gloves.


Abraham Lincoln and his Gloves

Abraham Lincoln came from humble beginnings. Though he eventually rose from a railsplitter to a respected lawyer and then 16th President of the United States, there were many aspects of his achieved status to which the frontier-born Lincoln never grew accustomed. He struggled with the pomp and circumstance of his office, greatly preferring the intimate telling of a joke to presiding over grand ceremonies. Yet, as President, there were many instances where Lincoln was forced, albeit reluctantly, to submit to the trappings of his high status. One aspect of society that gave Lincoln the most trouble was wearing ceremonial gloves. The President hated wearing them. Prior to his ascent to the Presidency, Lincoln rarely wore gloves for anything other than to keep his hands warm in the cold winter months. But fashion norms in the 1850s and 1860s emphasized the wearing of thin, more decorative than practical gloves, often made of white leather. These gloves were often called kid gloves, not because they were meant for children, but because the leather often came from young goats.

When it came to the tenets of fashion, Abraham Lincoln could hardly be bothered. Ward Hill Lamon was a friend of Lincoln’s from their shared days as attorneys in Illinois. When Lincoln was elected President, he tapped Lamon to be U.S. Marshal of D.C., a role that also made Lamon Lincoln’s unofficial bodyguard. In his later memoirs, Lamon twice wrote about Abraham Lincoln’s dislike of ceremonial gloves:

“…Mr. Lincoln still suffered much annoyance from the tyranny of fashion in the matter of gloves… [T]he necessity to wear gloves he regarded as an affliction, a violation of the statute against “cruelty to animals.” Many amusing stories could be told of Mr. Lincoln and his gloves. At about the time of his third reception he had on a tight-fitting pair of white kids, which he had with difficulty got on. He saw approaching in the distance an old Illinois friend named Simpson, whom he welcomed with a genuine Sangamon County shake, which resulted in bursting his white-kid glove with an audible sound. Then raising his brawny hand up before him, looking at it with an indescribable expression, he said, — while the whole procession was checked, witnessing this scene, — ‘Well, my old friend, this is a general bustification. You and I were never intended to wear these things. If they were stronger they might do well enough to keep out the cold, but they are a failure to shake hands with between old friends like us. Stand aside, Captain, and I’ll see you shortly.’”

In another story, Lamon once again recounts Mr. Lincoln’s resistance to wearing gloves, and his genuine joy at avoiding the practice with a friend:

“Shortly after the first inauguration, an old and respected friend accompanied by his wife visited Washington, and as a matter of course paid their respects to the President and his family, having been on intimate social terms with them for many years. It was proposed that at a certain time Mr. and Mrs. Lincoln should call at the hotel where they were stopping and take them out for a ride in the Presidential carriage, — a gorgeous and grandly caparisoned coach, the like of which the visitors had seldom seen before that time. As close as the intimacy was, the two men had never seen each other with gloves on in their lives, except as a protection from the cold. Both gentlemen, realizing the propriety of their use in the changed condition of things, discussed the matter with their respective wives, who decided that gloves were the proper things. Mr. Lincoln reluctantly yielded to this decree, and placed his in his pocket, to be used or not according to circumstances. On arriving at the hotel he found his friend, who doubtless had yielded to his wife’s persuasion, gloved in the most approved style. The friend, taking in the situation, was hardly seated in the carriage when he began to take off the clinging kids; and at the same time Mr. Lincoln began to draw his on, — seeing which they both burst into a hearty laugh, when Mr. Lincoln exclaimed, ‘Oh, why should the spirit of mortals be proud?’ Then he added, ‘I suppose it is polite to wear these things, but it is positively uncomfortable for me to do so. Let us put them in our pockets; that is the best place for them, and we shall be able to act more like folks in our bare hands.’ After this the ride was as enjoyable as any one they had ever taken in early days in a lumber wagon over the prairies of Illinois.”

We can see that while Lincoln understood the stylistic necessity of kid gloves, he happily shed them at the earliest opportunity. Yet, his refusal to wear kid gloves did not stop Mary Lincoln from supplying her husband with many pairs. Mrs. Lincoln was very knowledgeable about fashion and the expectations of high society, but she clearly fought a losing battle trying to dress up her husband.

It is interesting to note that most of the accounts relating to Abraham Lincoln and his wearing of kid gloves come from the beginning of his Presidency. It appears that in the early days of his administration, he was trying his best to fit into the fashion requirements of his office. However, as the Civil War went on, Lincoln could no longer be bothered by trivialities like fashion. As noted by author Reignette Chilton in her book Lincoln’s Frock Coat, while some criticized Lincoln’s often unkempt and slovenly appearance, others understood that “his mind was intent upon more important things.”

In the end, Lincoln’s mind and the bravery of the Union soldiers resulted in the surrender of Confederate General Robert E. Lee’s army to General Ulysses S. Grant on April 9, 1865. The surrender of the Confederacy’s largest army, combined with the recent conquering of the Confederate capital of Richmond, marked the beginning of the end of the Civil War. The Lincolns were in a celebratory mood when they picked up their guests, Clara Harris and Major Henry Rathbone, for an evening at Ford’s Theatre.

The revelry in Washington turned to tragedy when, in the middle of Act 3, Scene 2 of Our American Cousin, an assassin entered the Presidential box at Ford’s Theatre and shot Abraham Lincoln in the back of the head. Abraham Lincoln died nine hours later in the bedroom of a boardinghouse across the street from the theater. In time, at least four different pairs of gloves would come to be associated with Lincoln and the terrible act at Ford’s Theatre.


Found in the Box?

In 1905, the Lincoln National Life Insurance Company was founded in Fort Wayne, Indiana. Early in its history, the founders became interested in collecting objects related to its namesake to better associate the company with the 16th President and his legacy. This led to the creation of the Lincoln Financial Foundation collection. Over the years, the collection grew, leading the company to open its own Lincoln museum in Fort Wayne to display its artifacts. In 2008, a century after the company was founded, the now-named Lincoln National Company decided to shut down its museum holdings and donated its impressive collection to the people of Indiana. The collection was split between two groups, the Allen County Public Library in Fort Wayne and the Indiana State Museum in Indianapolis. The library became the home of the collection’s books, newspapers, documents, and photographs, while the museum houses the fine art, engravings, prints, and physical artifacts.

One item from the Lincoln Financial Foundation collection housed at the Indiana State Museum is this pair of gloves.

These gloves were received by the Lincoln Foundation collection on Jan. 2, 1948. The donor of the gloves was a family of antiquarian booksellers located in New Haven, Connecticut, by the name of Whitlock. Clifford Whitlock, Sr. had apprenticed in his great-uncle’s bookshop starting in the early 1900s, which was later given to him. Though the first Whitlock’s Book Store closed during the Great Depression, Clifford continued to operate as a book dealer and eventually reopened the store in the 1950s. His sons, Reverdy and Gilbert, followed in their father’s footsteps, and all three Whitlock men were working as book sellers in 1948 when the donation was made.

A note, held with the gloves at the Indiana State Museum, gives the following information:

“These gloves are alleged to have been found in the presidential box at Ford’s Theatre the night of Lincoln’s assassination. It is also said that there are blood stains on the gloves probably from Major Rathbone who was wounded when trying to detain Booth from escaping the box. The gloves were given to Whitlock’s of New Haven, Connecticut, by Mrs. Tillinghast.”

Unfortunately, the identity of “Mrs. Tillinghast,” the prior owner of the gloves who gave them to the Whitlocks, is unknown. The chain of custody on these gloves ends with her, with no way of knowing where or how Mrs. Tillinghast acquired the gloves or how she came to believe they were found in the box at Ford’s Theatre. The only additional information about the gloves is the object’s description: “Pair of cream-colored leather gloves features three decorative lines of thread on the back of each glove. A metal clasp on the inside of the wrist secures the glove,” and that they measure 8 in x 3.75 in (20.32 cm x 9.525 cm) in size.

As intriguing as the claim is that these gloves were found in the Presidential box, the story cannot be verified due to a lack of information about the donor, Mrs. Tillinghast. Even if we suppose the story is true and the gloves were recovered from the floor of the Presidential box at Ford’s Theatre, we could not be certain they belonged to Abraham Lincoln. Many individuals, including a slew of doctors, entered the box after the shooting to care for the President. Any one of them could have lost a pair of gloves during the chaos.

Assessment: The gloves in the Lincoln Financial Foundation collection at the Indiana State Museum have an interesting story, but without more information about Mrs. Tillinghast and her connection, there is nothing to prove they are connected to Abraham Lincoln’s assassination.


The Presidential Provenance

The Rutherford B. Hayes Presidential Center in Fremont, Ohio, is an impressive complex dedicated to the life and times of the 19th President of the United States. Hayes was a successful attorney who gave up his practice to join the Union Army during the Civil War, where he became an officer. Hayes ended the war as a brigadier general, having meritoriously performed at the Battle of Cedar Creek. During his service, Hayes won election to the House of Representatives in Ohio. He took his seat in December 1865, before being elected Governor of Ohio in 1867. After two terms as Governor, Hayes left office in 1872, but in 1875 he found himself once again nominated by the Republican Party for the governorship. His reelection increased national attention on the Ohio governor and Army veteran, and the Republican Party nominated Hayes for the Presidency as a compromise candidate in the election of 1876. The election was the most contentious in history, with neither major candidate earning enough electoral votes to win. In the end, a special electoral commission was created to determine the outcome of 20 disputed electoral votes from Florida, Louisiana, South Carolina, and Oregon. A strict party-line vote of 8 Republicans vs. 7 Democrats gave all the disputed electoral votes to Hayes. This was followed by the Bargain of 1877, in which Democrats ended a filibuster of the results and threats of political violence in exchange for the promise that Hayes’ administration would withdraw the remaining military troops and oversight entities from the former Confederate states. This effectively ended Reconstruction and was a betrayal of Black Republicans in the South who found their hard-earned rights quickly stripped away by Jim Crow laws.

As President, Hayes, a Republican, was stymied by a Democratic-controlled Congress. Hayes supported civil service reforms after the corruption and cronyism of the Grant administration, and he also served during a time of economic growth. He also vetoed the Chinese Exclusion Act of 1879. But Hayes also called out the National Guard and U.S. Army against striking railroad workers in 1877. When compared to other presidencies, historians usually rank Rutherford B. Hayes in the slightly below-average tier. Hayes fulfilled his pledge not to seek reelection and left office after a single term in 1881, replaced by James Garfield. When Hayes left the White House, he, like his predecessors, took his official and personal papers with him. He retired to his home of Spiegel Grove in Fremont, where he died in 1893.

Perhaps more so than any of his predecessors, President Hayes was a collector. He carefully kept his papers and many items related to his time as President together. A student of history, Hayes also actively collected items related to American political history. Hayes’ impressive collection led his son, Col. Webb Hayes, to try to establish a presidential library where members of the public could learn about his father’s life and legacy. Col. Hayes deeded the Spiegel Grove estate to the state of Ohio and donated his family’s impressive collection to the Ohio Historical Society. In 1916, the country’s first presidential library, then known as the Hayes Memorial, was built and opened to the public.

The Hayes Memorial in 1916

The Hayes Memorial building has expanded greatly over the years and now includes detailed exhibits about the life of President Hayes and his family, as well as library, office, and event spaces. But the original structure, built in 1916, still stands at the heart of the museum. One wing of the original building is now known as the Presidents Gallery and contains artifacts related to all the presidents. The room’s centerpiece is a replica of the Resolute Desk, the ornately carved desk Queen Victoria gifted to President Hayes in 1880. The Resolute Desk has been a fixture of the White House ever since, and each President since Jimmy Carter has used it for a time as their Oval Office desk.

An exhibit on the side of this room has artifacts related to Abraham Lincoln. As the exhibit label notes, President Hayes greatly admired Lincoln and considered him one of the country’s greatest leaders. Hayes personally collected most of the Lincoln objects on display here during his lifetime. The display includes examples of broken Lincoln White House china salvaged by Hayes, an 1864 Lincoln re-election campaign medal, slippers worn by Lincoln at the White House, and even a piece of fabric from the frock coat Lincoln was wearing at Ford’s Theatre when he was assassinated:

This exhibit also includes a pair of dark kidskin leather gloves. The exhibit tag next to them states: “Gloves worn by President Lincoln the night of his assassination. Both gloves are signed ‘A. Lincoln’ on the inside wrist area.”

The gloves are 22.5 cm in length. An internal mark gives them a size of 9 2/4, but this fractional part may be incorrect. The inside of each glove near the wrist features the ink signature “A. Lincoln.”

A condition report for this artifact from 2025 noted that “the leather is dry and brittle; cracked and peeling in palm of left glove; seams torn at outside wrist and bottom of thumb of left glove, black thread stitching repair done to finger tips of both gloves; metal pieces used to latch wrist of each corroding.”

The provenance connecting the gloves to Lincoln’s assassination is, like the Indiana gloves, sadly limited. The museum knows President Hayes acquired the gloves personally, but when and from whom is unknown. The only original document that the museum has for the gloves is an envelope from the White House on which President Hayes has written the words, “Gloves of Mr. Lincoln worn the night of his assassination. With his autograph in each.”

As stated, Hayes collected many things, and other items in the collection have much better records of how he acquired them. The fragment of Lincoln’s frock coat, for example, came with an affidavit signed by White House doorkeeper Thomas Pendel describing how he obtained Lincoln’s frock coat from Tad Lincoln and was presenting a piece of the coat to President Hayes. This is a very clear chain of ownership. These gloves have no such chain. All we have are Hayes’s handwritten notes that these were Lincoln’s gloves and that he wore them the night of his assassination.

The Hayes gloves differ from the other gloves in this article, as this pair is dark brown rather than a more formal white leather. During Abraham Lincoln’s trip to Washington, D.C. on the way to his first inauguration, he visited New York City and spent the evening of February 20, 1861, at the Brooklyn Academy of Music where he watched part of an opera performance. Another opera attendee that evening later recalled that Lincoln wore “a pair of huge black kid gloves,” rather than the fancy white kid gloves worn by most others. According to the witness, these dark, practical gloves “attracted the attention of the whole house, hanging as they did over the red velvet box-front.” So there is some precedent for Lincoln wearing dark colored gloves to a theater.

The Hayes gloves are more practical than fashionable, which definitely fits Mr. Lincoln’s style. The interior signature of “A. Lincoln” supports the idea that these gloves did, at the very least, belong to Abraham Lincoln.

But did Abraham Lincoln wear the Hayes gloves on April 14, 1865? At this time, there is no way to prove or disprove this claim. All we have is President Hayes’s handwritten note attributing them to Lincoln’s assassination. Given Hayes’s passion for collecting and his admiration for Lincoln, he likely believed they were genuine, but without knowing when and where he got the gloves, we can’t prove either way.

Assessment: President Hayes’s belief and credibility are our only source for the gloves’ authenticity. The Rutherford B. Hayes Museum is trusting its namesake’s word by exhibiting these gloves as the ones Lincoln wore the night he was assassinated. President Hayes may have acquired such a unique artifact, especially since he collected other items related to Lincoln’s death. But without more information, there is no way to prove the claim.


A Family Connection

In 1956, the Illinois State Historical Library received a donation from Philip R. Baker, the great-grandson of Mary Lincoln’s sister, Elizabeth Edwards. Philip Baker donated 12 letters written by Mary Lincoln, seven letters written by Elizabeth Edwards, and 66 letters from Illinois Senator David J. Baker, who briefly held office in 1830.

Mary Lincoln wrote the letters in this collection to Edward Lewis Baker, Jr., the donor’s father. After Mary was forcibly committed to an insane asylum by her only surviving son, Robert, in 1875, she expertly managed to secure her release three months later. After leaving the asylum, she went to live with her sister Elizabeth Edwards in Springfield. There she got to know Elizabeth’s grandson Edward Lewis Baker, Jr., who was called Lewis. He was about 17 years old at the time and reminded Mary of her son Tad, who had died four years earlier at the age of 18. She took a strong liking to her great-nephew, especially now that her relationship with her only surviving son had ended acrimoniously. According to Lois Romano’s newest biography, An Inconvenient Widow, “[Mary] treated him as a surrogate son, pouring into him the love and grandmotherly advice pent up inside her. Lewis agreed to accompany her to New York for her trans-Atlantic crossing, and they left Springfield in September 1876, stopping in Lexington.” From her birthplace, the pair made their way to New York, where Mary set sail alone for France in October 1876. The earliest letter from Mary Lincoln to Lewis Baker in the donated collection is dated Havre, France, Oct. 17, 1876. All but the last letter was written on monogrammed mourning stationery.

Edward Lewis Baker, Jr. circa 1905

Edward Lewis Baker, Jr. was the only person to greet Mary in New York when she arrived back home in America after her prolonged European stay in 1880. Mary then moved back in with her sister in Springfield, and Lewis remained a regular visitor. Though not named in the newspapers like his grandparents, the “Hon. and Mrs. N. W. Edwards,” Lewis was undoubtedly one of the “other relatives” who attended Mary Lincoln’s funeral on July 19, 1882.

Yet Philip Baker’s donation consisted of more than just letters. There were also some physical objects from his father’s papers, including a pair of white kidskin gloves claimed to have been found in Abraham Lincoln’s pocket after his murder.

These gloves are 23.2 cm in length from the wrist to the longest finger, and the inside of the left glove near the wrist features the name “Ph Courvoisier” and the number “8 ¾” stamped in light blue ink.

Additional blue vertical lines are stamped on both gloves, along with numbers ranging from 11-18, likely part of the manufacturing process.

While none of the letters from Mary Lincoln to Edward Lewis Baker, Jr. reference the gloves, their provenance consists of Baker’s handwriting on the back of his business card.

This handwritten note documents three assassination-related objects:

“Last pair of gloves A. Lincoln wore. Were found in his pocket after the murder.

Piece of shell work cut from a design with which Lincoln’s casket was decorated upon its arrival in Springfield.

Copy of the programme of the obsequies in Chicago.

E. L. Baker, Jr.”

The assumption is that Mary Lincoln gifted Lewis these gloves, perhaps as a token of appreciation for the young man who became a surrogate son. This seems like a very likely series of events. But where were these gloves present at the assassination? Like the prior examples, we don’t have the evidence to prove it.

A close reading of Lewis’s provenance for the gloves is actually a bit ambiguous. All he wrote is that they were the “Last pair of gloves A. Lincoln wore. Were found in his pocket after the murder.” We first assume Lewis means Lincoln wore these gloves to Ford’s Theatre, but the wording doesn’t say that. For all we know, Lincoln did not wear any gloves to Ford’s Theatre, and these were found in an undisclosed pocket from an earlier outing that involved gloves. While Lincoln likely brought gloves to Ford’s Theatre, no period evidence confirms this assumption. As this post highlights, there is a surplus of so-called assassination gloves in physical form, but a dearth of period evidence from eyewitnesses discussing any gloves, which complicates matters.

The Baker gloves and their assumed connection to Mary Lincoln also raise another issue. Mary Lincoln did not like physical reminders of her husband’s murder. As documented in Reignette Chilton’s books, she gave away the greatcoat and suit Abraham was wearing when he was shot just days following the assassination. In the weeks after the crime, Mary gave away many articles of clothing and objects relating to her husband. For example, here is a pair of Abraham’s riding gloves that Mary gave away on May 22, 1865, the same day she left the White House.

She presented these gloves, through her son Robert, to Gen. Christopher C. Augur, who commanded the defenses around Washington. Augur had been present at the Petersen House during the deathwatch and took part in the manhunt for Booth. Robert wrote to Augur, gifting him the riding gloves and expressing his mother’s thanks for his “kindness during the past few weeks.”

It is difficult to believe that Mary Lincoln would have retained the gloves her husband had with him when he was assassinated for any period of time, especially a decade later when she became close to Lewis Baker. In addition, at the time of Abraham’s death, Mary was estranged from her sister Elizabeth Edwards, making it unlikely that she gave “assassination gloves” to her at the time, which later could have passed to her grandson, Lewis. Yet the gloves’ inclusion in Lincoln family papers now held by the Abraham Lincoln Presidential Library and Museum in Springfield, Illinois, elevates them above the rest.

Assessment: The Baker gloves have better provenance than the previous examples as they are linked to a member of the Lincoln family with whom Mary Lincoln had a close relationship. However, the provenance doesn’t directly state that the gloves came from Mary Lincoln, and the likelihood that Mary would have kept any assassination gloves long enough to gift them to Baker is low. Still, the family connection makes it likely the Baker gloves once belonged to Abraham Lincoln, even if they weren’t with him at Ford’s Theatre.


A Millionaire’s Mistake?

Benjamin Richardson was rich. Of that there was no question. But he didn’t start that way. He was born in England in 1812 and emigrated to the United States as a ship’s cabin boy at 18. Richardson started in America as a servant for New York Representative (and later Governor, Senator, and Secretary of State) Hamilton Fish. Over time, the young man saved enough money to buy real estate in New York. In 1849, he headed west to California, along with others hoping to make it big in the gold rush. While prospecting for gold failed to bring a fortune, a well-placed land purchase in San Francisco was Richardson’s own gold mine when he later sold the land to a railroad company for a mint. Soon, Richardson became very wealthy. He diversified his land holdings to include quarries in Utah and Missouri. Soon, Richardson’s land assets provided for all he could want and more. Around 1861, Richardson left the United States and conducted a world tour that would last almost seven years. During this time, he visited Europe, Asia, and Africa, and was fond of collecting unique objects during his travels. Upon his return to America in early 1868, the eccentric millionaire announced his intention to open a free museum in California filled with his relics.

Benjamin Richardson in 1886

How Benjamin Richardson became acquainted with Mary Lincoln is uncertain. However, in 1868, he was exactly the type of person she was looking for. Ever since her husband’s death, Mary Lincoln had struggled financially. Some of her struggles were self-inflicted, as she used excessive shopping as a means to counter her grief. But there were also individuals in Mrs. Lincoln’s life who actively thwarted some of her attempts to acquire additional funds. Abraham Lincoln’s estate was not settled until  November of 1867, and even after she gained access to her portion, Mary still worried about her financial future. During the interim years, Mrs. Lincoln would appeal to others to help secure donors and patrons who would support her and her needs. And Mary Lincoln was not above selling things to make sure she and her son Tad were taken care of. Enter the eccentric millionaire, Benjamin Richardson.

Two letters are known to have existed from Mrs. Lincoln to Richardson. Each is in response to letters from Richardson. The first is dated June 16, 1868, from Chicago, Illinois, while the second was sent by Mrs. Lincoln during her extended trip to Europe in 1870. Mrs. Lincoln sent her and Tad Lincoln’s best wishes to Richardson in both letters. In her 1868 letter to Richardson, she clearly tries to woo the real estate-savvy Richardson into buying some property she owned. As part of this gambit, Mrs. Lincoln documents the sending of certain items to Richardson, writing, in part:

“Capt. Benjamin Richardson:

My Dear Sir – Prof. and Mrs. Sawyer have just paid me a call, and handed me your letter, which I was very gratified to receive. I hasten to reply to it, fearing you may think I have been negligent regarding my promises. And yet I am sure you will be tantalized to know that some of the specialties promised have been in my room and only awaiting this being sent to Mr. Sawyer. Tomorrow my little Taddie will carry them down to the University [of Chicago] and it may be the rest I will bring on to you myself. After this explanation of the delay you will feel relieved…”

While Mrs. Lincoln never specifies in her letter what “specialties” she and Tad will present to Richardson, newspaper accounts from Richardson’s lifetime and beyond note that he was given a pair of gloves, a handkerchief, a cane, and possibly a hat, all of which belonged to Abraham Lincoln.

Richardson continued collecting unique objects for his planned museum. One impressive purchase he made in 1876 was a carriage owned by President George Washington. Richardson rode behind this famous carriage during a parade to mark the unveiling of the Statue of Liberty in 1886. However, despite his wealth and impressive collection, Richardson’s planned museum never came to fruition. He died an eccentric millionaire in 1889, and it took many years to settle his estate.

While the Washington carriage was sold and eventually made its way to Mount Vernon, Richardson’s heirs retained some of the Lincoln relics. In 1925, the Brooklyn Eagle published an article featuring the Lincoln artifacts, then owned by Richardson’s granddaughter, Ella Gouverneur. The article explained that the gloves and handkerchief were framed together and hung in Ella’s dining room. The newspaper included a collage of these items, an image of Richardson, the envelopes from Mrs. Lincoln, and a framed portrait of Lincoln also claimed to have come from the former First Lady.

These relics later passed to Ella’s daughter (Richardson’s great-granddaughter), who allowed the gloves, handkerchief, and one of the Mary Lincoln envelopes to be photographed and published in Dorothy and Philip Kunhardt’s coffee-table-sized book on the assassination, Twenty Days, in 1965.

Around the 1990s, the gloves, handkerchief, and cane came into the possession of Lincoln collector Louise Taper, who sold them to the Lincoln Presidential Foundation.

These are the fourth and most famous pair of gloves: the “blood-stained’ gloves sold by Freeman’s | Hindman auction house in 2025.

They are 22.8 cm in length with the number “9 ¼” stamped inside. The clasp of each is stamped with a small “T.” There is also dark colored staining near the wrist area and thumb of each glove. The auction listing for these gloves from 2025 gives the following brief description of their condition: “Some flaking and cracks; elastic bands detached, but present; archival repairs to lining of each glove; contemporary repaired split at base of palm on right glove; each glove soiled and unevenly darkened.”

As shown, the chain of custody for the gloves is quite strong. While Mary Lincoln does not provide an exact accounting of the “specialties” she provided Richardson, other period evidence strongly supports the idea that these gloves and handkerchief were among them. It is safe to say that these gloves and handkerchief came from Mrs. Lincoln.

But let’s get to the $1.5 million question – what is the evidence that these are “assassination gloves?” As we follow the line of provenance back, it is clear that the recent auction house, the Lincoln Presidential Foundation, Louise Taper, and the Richardson heirs believed that these gloves were carried by Lincoln on the night he was assassinated. Ella Gouverneur stated this without reservation when the Brooklyn Eagle interviewed her in 1925. So, for at least 100 years, the owners have had no doubt that these gloves witnessed that tragic night.

But if we look back further, the idea that these gloves were associated with the assassination becomes less certain. Unfortunately, the main sources we have regarding the gloves during this early period are newspaper articles that mention them in connection to Benjamin Richardson. In a few of the obituaries that came out upon his death in 1889, there was a line noting that he was “a fast friend of Mrs. Abraham Lincoln and received from her the cane, hat, and gloves worn by her husband when he was shot.” However, another obit that made the rounds merely stated that he “owned a pair of gloves and a cane used by Abraham Lincoln,” with no mention of the gloves’ claimed connection to Ford’s Theatre. As we continue going back in time, we see this happen more and more. While a Boston Globe article from 1886 described Richardson as the “possessor of the cane and gloves carried by Abraham Lincoln when he was shot by John Wilkes Booth,” an earlier Chicago article from 1883 only mentioned that Richardson “hoards Lincoln’s gloves and cane,” with no further detail. We can’t expect different newspapers to mention every aspect of the gloves in their articles, especially since they are not usually the focus of the piece, but it is interesting how often the gloves are not attributed to the assassination as we travel back through the records.

An 1883 article from the St. Louis Dispatch described a visit to Richardson’s home in Harlem, which he called the “Lincoln Cottage.” He showed the reporter his many treasures, including the George Washington carriage and a slouch hat worn by President Garfield. When it came to the gloves, the article merely stated that, “In another case was the cane which President Lincoln carried, while in still another case were a pair of gloves and a handkerchief which had been owned by President Lincoln.” Again, the article makes no connection between these artifacts and the world-changing event they were later said to have witnessed. As an article about Richardson’s unique collection, one would have expected more details.

The next earliest mention of Richardson and his gloves comes from 1880, in a biographical sketch of Richardson that appeared in a Missouri paper near where he owned a lucrative quarry property. There, Richardson is described as “the possessor of Lincoln’s gloves and cane,” with no additional significance given to them.

That brings us to the earliest record I’ve come across that mentions Richardson and his Lincoln gloves. It appeared as an article in the Trenton State Gazette in New Jersey, published on February 15, 1869. The article documented the second annual banquet of the Lincoln Association of Jersey City. Annual events honoring Abraham Lincoln were very common in the years following the 16th President’s death, and you can still find Lincoln dinners and banquets around the anniversary of Lincoln’s birth today. The Gazette article described the recent festivities that had occurred:

“About 150 persons sat down to dinner, many prominent men of Hudson county being present. The hall was richly decorated and oil paintings of Washington, Lincoln, Generals Scott and Grant were hung in the spaces between the windows. On the centre of the dais was the well known Rogers group, Lincoln, Stanton and Grant, holding a council of war…”

John Rogers’ sculpture, “The Council of War”

“…After partaking of an excellent supper the company turned their attention to the intellectual portion of the programme. The chair was occupied by Mr. David W. Weiss, President of the Lincoln Association. Letters of apology were read from the President and Vice President elect, Generals Sherman, Sickles, Logan and Sigel; Senators Wilson and Frelinghuysen; Congressmen Halsey and Hill; ex-Governors Ward, Chief Justice Chase, Judge Bedle, Hannibal Hamlin, William Cullen Bryant, and others. The following toasts were proposed: – ‘The Memory of Abraham Lincoln,’ responded to by B. W. Throckmorton; ‘The President of the United States;’ ‘The Congress,’ by E. B. Wakeman; ‘The Judiciary,’ by Isaac W. Van Winkle; ‘The State of New Jersey,’ ‘The Army and Navy,’ by Captain B. F. Frazer, Jr.; ‘The Proclamation of Emancipation’ by Rev. J. L. Danner; ‘The Press,’ by General Edward Jardine, and ‘Woman’ by Benjamin Van Riper. A pleasing feature of the entertainment was the singing by Mr. Charles Henry, whose rendering of ‘Kathleen Mavourneen’ was exquisite and brought down the house.

The delegation from Hoboken consisted of General Hatfield, Captains Hart, Lee and Frazes; Major Mount and Mr. Pritchard. The affair was passed off most successfully.”

As you can see, this article is very detailed. The reporter described the Lincoln banquet scene, the decorations, and the many people who took part in the proceedings. The article also contains one additional section that I have withheld until now:

“The cane, white kid gloves and pocket handkerchief used by President Lincoln at his inauguration, and which were presented by Mrs. Lincoln to Captain Benjamin Richardson, were shown to the assemblage and created such enthusiasm that the guests all rose to their feet and waved their handkerchiefs again and again.”

You read that right. This article notes that the gloves, cane, and handkerchief given to Benjamin Richardson by Mary Lincoln came from Abraham Lincoln’s inauguration, not assassination. We have already established that the reporter who composed this article was very detail-oriented. It seems unlikely that they would mistake Lincoln assassination relics for Lincoln inauguration relics. Even if we were to suppose the reporter was in error and substituted inauguration for assassination, does it make logical sense that the crowd would have risen to their feet and waved their own handkerchiefs in response to relics of the President’s death? It’s clear that the crowd was pleased by the items Richardson displayed and acted out of celebration.

For historical research and provenance, the earliest accounts are usually best. Stories and memories change over time. Sometimes this is a case of people lying or altering their stories to make them more appealing. But alterations in stories are not always the product of deliberate deception. The human brain is not a perfect recall device. Memory is incredibly subjective and changes over time. Even setting aside the assumed memory loss that comes with aging, our minds constantly alter our memories. Studies have shown that, among many things, imagining an event having taken place can create a false memory of it actually occurring; the manner in which you are asked about an event can change the way you remember it; and the more often you recall an event, the more the memory of that event changes. This is how someone like Mrs. Matilda Todd, an eyewitness to Lincoln’s assassination in 1865, can be completely honest in telling newspapers in the 1930s that she remembered Booth’s broken leg spurting blood upon the stage and that a giant lasso whisked him off into the wings. After years of recalling the event she witnessed, her genuine memories became a fictional account.

Mary Lincoln wrote to Benjamin Richardson about preparing his items on June 16, 1868. This Lincoln banquet occurred on February 12, 1869. Therefore, this article was written just a few months after Richardson acquired his Lincoln relics. Nothing in Mary Lincoln’s known letters to Richardson describes the objects, and the earliest published account claims no connection to his assassination, but rather to his inauguration. The first account claiming these gloves were present at Lincoln’s assassination dates to 1886, nearly two decades after Richardson received the items and after Mrs. Lincoln had died. The evidence demonstrates that the story around these gloves changed over time to become associated with Lincoln’s death.

Even the note displayed with the gloves and handkerchief at Richardson’s and then Ella Gouverneur’s home lacks any mention of the gloves being connected to Lincoln’s death. If we zoom in on the photograph in the Brooklyn Eagle article in 1925, we can read the handwritten note that accompanied these relics. It says:

“Gloves & Pocket Handkerchief used by the late Lamented and ever mourned for President Lincoln and Presented to Benjamin Richardson by his bereaved widow – to be placed in his Museum in San Francisco California ~”

As a display piece, one would expect this note to state directly that these items were with Lincoln at Ford’s Theatre, but it gives no such detail. All the note says is that Lincoln once “used” these items, with no timeframe or specific place given, which fits some of the descriptions in the 1880s where the gloves are merely recounted as being owned by Lincoln, and nothing more.

“But, hang on,” you might be thinking. “If these aren’t Lincoln assassination gloves, how do you explain the blood stains?” That is the second piece of evidence used in support of these gloves. While many of the press accounts around the sale of the gloves commented on the dark blood stains featured on the gloves, only once in the auction listing does it suggest the staining on the gloves is blood. Here is that sentence:

“According to an article published in the Brooklyn Eagle on 22 March 1925, and featuring a photograph of the gloves and a handkerchief, both possibly stained with the president’s blood, were gifted to Richardson at the University of Chicago, and delivered by Lincoln’s son, Tad.”

The auction house writes this to suggest that the Brooklyn Eagle article described the staining on the gloves and attributed it to Lincoln’s blood, but the 1925 article mentions no staining at all. In fact, there is no mention of blood in any reference to the gloves until the modern era. Even the articles from Richardson’s and Ella Gouverneur’s lifetimes that attribute the gloves to the assassination do not say anything about the gloves being bloodstained. When the photograph of the gloves and handkerchief was published in Twenty Days in 1965, the caption says nothing about bloodstains, even while a photograph on the next page highlights fragments of bloodstained towels from the Petersen House. When an appraiser looked through the Louise Taper collection in advance of its sale to the Lincoln Presidential Foundation, he documented the gloves and handkerchief but did not include any mention of blood stains:

It appears that only during the transfer of the gloves from Taper to the Foundation around 2007 did the staining on the gloves become associated with blood.

To be honest, the claim that these gloves are stained with Lincoln’s blood is what led me to first question and investigate them. Abraham Lincoln suffered a small-caliber gunshot wound to the head, with the bullet remaining inside his brain. After shooting the President, Booth dropped his gun and pulled out a large Rio Grande Camp knife, which he used to attack Major Rathbone. Booth was holding this knife when he made his jump to the stage. Because of this, Dr. Charles Leale, the first doctor to reach the box, was under the impression the President had been stabbed. Dr. Leale removed Lincoln from the rocking chair he was slumped in and laid him on the floor of the box. As he wrote in a letter to a friend in May of 1865, “While doing this I put my hand on a part of his coat near the left shoulder saturated with blood.” Leale then borrowed a penknife from an audience member who had made his way into the box, William Kent, and with it, Dr. Leale cut open the President’s great coat, frock coat, and shirt, looking for a stab wound. “As soon as his shoulder was laid bare and no wound discovered I examined his head,” Dr. Leale recounted. In feeling the back of the President’s head, Leale located the bullet wound and, using his pinky finger, removed a bloodclot that had formed. This briefly relieved some pressure on Lincoln’s swelling brain and extended his life. After Lincoln was taken across the street to the Petersen House, the doctors would regularly probe the wound, leading to many towels and pillowcases becoming bloodstained.

How could a pair of gloves likely in couched in Lincoln’s pocket become stained with his blood as a result of his shooting? A few months after the sale of these gloves, an individual connected to the auction house contacted me seeking information about another item from the former Taper collection that has since been sold. In my email conversations with this individual, I expressed skepticism that these gloves were present at Lincoln’s assassination. I asked my contact whether the auction house had done any testing to verify that the staining on the gloves was actually blood. My contact replied that the auction house had not, but that they personally believed the staining was blood. This individual even sent me an in-house document explaining how the gloves could have become soiled with Lincoln’s blood. The document theorized that, upon arriving in the box, Lincoln removed his gloves and placed them both in his left coat pocket, slightly sticking out for easy retrieval. Then, after the shooting, but before Leale’s examination, “approximately 5-7 drops of blood impacted around the open ends, affecting the left glove more than the right and suggesting that the left glove had been placed over the right by Lincoln when he placed them inside of his left coat pocket.” While I credit the document for putting forth an explanation of how the staining on the gloves could have occurred if the stains were blood and if the gloves were at Ford’s Theatre, in my mind it’s a bit like putting the cart before the horse. The staining has not been proven to be blood, and the gloves have definitely not been proven to have been at Ford’s Theatre.

The lack of any mention in the historical record of these gloves being bloodstained is important. When these gloves were accepted as having been at Ford’s Theatre, such a revelation would have been widely reported. There is a fragment of a Ford’s Theatre playbill with a drop of blood on it located in the Kansas History Museum. This relic was so popular that its owner, Dr. Thomas Bancroft, photographed the blood-stained playbill fragment and sold cabinet card reproductions. Victorians were obsessed with relics, especially blood relics. The fact that these gloves appear to have circulated for over 100 years in the public consciousness without any mention of Lincoln’s blood on them is telling. Clearly, no one before the modern era believed these gloves were stained with blood.

But, for the sake of argument, let’s suppose that somehow this important detail about the gloves being stained with Lincoln’s blood was overlooked until around 2007. In this scenario then, it means that Mrs. Lincoln held on to a grisly reminder of her husband’s murder for three years before casually selling them to Benjamin Richardson. How likely is this? Mary Lincoln was traumatized by her husband’s death. Clara Harris recalled how, during the deathwatch for the President at the Petersen House, “Poor Mrs. Lincoln all through that dreadful night would look at me with horror & scream, ‘Oh! My husband’s blood, my dear husband’s blood,’” even though Clara’s dress was actually stained with the blood of her fiancé, Major Rathbone. Before leaving the White House for the last time, Mrs. Lincoln disposed of the remaining bloody remnants from that terrible night. Footman Charles Forbes recalled how he was given the complete suit of clothes Lincoln was wearing when he was shot by Mrs. Lincoln, including the shirt and frock coat that had been sliced open by Dr. Leale. He wrote in an affidavit that after receiving the clothes, “I asked her, ‘What shall I do with them?’ She said, ‘Do anything you like with them, don’t let me see them again.’” In her deep mourning and trauma, it is inconceivable that Mrs. Lincoln would have retained any article that contained her husband’s blood.

If not blood, to what, then, can we attribute the staining? I have a theory. The staining that exists appears on the back of the gloves, near the wrists. The Brooklyn Eagle article from 1925 noted that the gloves were framed and hung on a wall in Ella Gouverneur’s home, “like the museum exhibit it was intended to be.” The 1965 photograph Ella’s daughter provided to the Kundhardts shows the gloves still in the same frame and position, making it unlikely they were removed in the interim. I suggest the staining on the back of the gloves has less to do with blood stains and more to do with how the gloves were affixed to the back of this display for at least 40 years (and likely longer). A number of substances could have caused discoloration over time, not to mention the unknown manner in which the gloves were stored when they left the Richardson heirs. The noticeable cracking of the leather shows these gloves were not kept in slightly humid conditions modern conservationists would recommend. What appears as stains of blood could just as easily be residue and deterioration from decades of improper storage and display. Since the auction house did not complete any sort of testing to verify the presence of blood on the gloves, the claim that the gloves have blood stains can not be confirmed, and the historical record does not support this conclusion.

When I shared the 1869 article featuring Richardson and the gloves’ attendance at the Lincoln banquet with my auction house contact, they replied with the following: “Personally I’m more skeptical about Mary Lincoln identifying the gloves to Richardson as those worn by Lincoln during the second inaugural, just because what would have differentiated them from any other pair he owned for her to make that kind of a claim?” I politely pointed out to them that they had once again drawn a conclusion that wasn’t in evidence. The 1869 article stated that Lincoln wore these gloves to his inauguration, but did not specify which one. But more than anything, my contact had perfectly proven my overall point. Since we have no written evidence from Mrs. Lincoln about the history of the objects she presented to Benjamin Richardson, we can’t be certain that these gloves were associated with any “big event’ in Lincoln’s life. Most likely, these gloves were just one of many random pairs of fancy gloves Abraham Lincoln owned and eschewed having to wear.

Knowing Mrs. Lincoln’s shopping and hoarding habits, there was no doubt an excess of gloves owned by the president when he died. We know from efforts to settle his estate that Mrs. Lincoln owed a considerable sum of money to “Mr. Perry, a merchant of Washington for 300 pairs of kid gloves purchased by her between the first of January and the death of Mr. Lincoln.” Surely some of those 300 pairs of kidskin gloves were meant for her husband. In the years after his death, Mrs. Lincoln often presented small tokens from her collection to friends and admirers. Just a week after she wrote to Richardson in 1868 that his items, which included a cane, were ready, she presented another Lincoln cane to a family friend in Springfield, Jesse K. Dubois.

Mrs. Lincoln’s interaction with Richardson came on the heels of the “Old Clothes Scandal,” where she attempted to sell her non-mourning wardrobe in New York in an effort to raise funds. A likely scenario is that Richardson, a New Yorker, contacted Mrs. Lincoln after hearing about her efforts and asked whether she had anything related to her husband that might find a place in his future museum. After some haggling, Mrs. Lincoln agreed to sell some items to the wealthy Richardson and was merely awaiting payment, which she received when Prof. Sawyer provided her with the letter from Richardson she references in her 1868 letter. What, if anything, Mrs. Lincoln told Richardson as to the significance of the items beyond that they had belonged to her husband is unknown.

The inside of the “blood stained’ gloves

Eight months later, Richardson displayed the gloves and handkerchief as having been at Lincoln’s inauguration, much to the acclaim of the Lincoln banquet in New Jersey. Other articles in the years that followed made no real conclusion about the gloves until, starting in 1886, when they were first connected to Lincoln’s death.

In conclusion, this particular artifact shows the importance of digging into the provenance of a piece in order to assess the different claims made about it. The earliest and most reliable evidence does not associate these gloves with Abraham Lincoln’s assassination, and the so-called blood stains used as evidence to support the theory have not been verified to be blood. All we know for certain is that three years after her husband’s death, Mary Lincoln presented these gloves, a handkerchief, and a cane to Benjamin Richardson, a wealthy real estate tycoon. Over the decades, the story of these artifacts changed, first being claimed as coming from Lincoln’s inauguration and later from the assassination. We have no documentation from Mary Lincoln in either direction. In addition, we know that Mrs. Lincoln gave away many items that formerly belonged to her husband and that she had a surplus of gloves following his death.

Assessment: While these gloves can safely be credited to Mary Lincoln, the evidence supports nothing more definitive about them. In my opinion, these gloves are likely one of many pairs Mr. Lincoln owned and unlikely to be associated with any important event in his life. A pair of gloves owned by Abraham Lincoln still has value, but the $1.5 million price tag these gloves sold for in 2025 was based on family lore and a much-hyped story that doesn’t hold up to scrutiny.


Many Gloves, No Perfect Fit

Noah Brooks was a California journalist who became a friend of Abraham Lincoln and the First Family. In an 1878 article for Scribner’s Monthly, Brooks discussed Lincoln’s fashion and gloves. Brooks wrote:

“[Mr. Lincoln] was always neatly, but not finically dressed. He disliked gloves, and once I saw him extract seven or eight pairs of gloves from an overcoat pocket, where they had accumulated after having been furnished him by Mrs. Lincoln.”

Much like Brooks’ interaction with the President, we have also borne witness to multiple pairs of gloves, each claiming a connection to Abraham Lincoln. While each pair of gloves discussed in this article has an intriguing story connecting it to the tragic night of April 14, 1865, a deep dive into the provenance has failed to prove the authenticity of any of them. This is very common for artifacts in museums and in private collections. It is incredibly rare to have perfect provenance and chain of custody for anything. For the vast majority of artifacts, authenticity is an act of belief and faith, rather than fact.

Misrepresentations and mistakes happen over time, even from individuals with the best of intentions. For example, from May to September of 2026, the gloves, handkerchief, and Ford’s Theatre ticket stub purchased at the Freeman’s | Hindman auction were loaned to the Ronald Reagan Presidential Library as part of an America 250 exhibit. On both the Reagan Library website and in videos highlighting the exhibit, the ticket stub was incorrectly claimed to have been in Abraham Lincoln’s pocket when he was killed. Since Lincoln was in the Presidential box, not seated in section C, seat 127 of the Orchestra level as documented on the stub, it makes no sense that he would have this random ticket in his pocket. This innocent mistake perfectly demonstrates how easily false claims can be created and spread. In our modern world, the spread of misinformation, both historical and otherwise, is exacerbated by Large Language Models and AI bots that regurgitate a user’s desired answer rather than an accurate one. Now more than ever, it is crucial to investigate claims and not take them at face value.

With the information we currently possess, none of the gloves highlighted in this piece can be definitively proven to have been with Abraham Lincoln when he was assassinated by John Wilkes Booth at Ford’s Theatre. In fact, we can’t even be sure Lincoln had gloves with him that night, especially given his established distaste for them. But as with many other historical artifacts with incomplete provenance, the slight possibility remains that one of these gloves actually did witness the night of April 14, 1865.

In the end, all of these gloves have interesting stories and unique histories, regardless of their genuineness. Through these gloves, we learn more about Abraham Lincoln, his family, his humanity, and his tragic death. What more value can you ask for out of historical artifacts than that?


Several individuals and institutions were crucial in researching this piece. My special thanks go to:

Anna Dvorachek, Registrar, Abraham Lincoln Presidential Library and Museum, Springfield, Illinois
Kevin Moore, Former Curator of Artifacts, Rutherford B. Hayes Presidential Library & Museums, Fremont, Ohio
Kevin Whaley, Registrar, Indiana State Museum and Historic Sites, Indianapolis, Indiana
The Lincoln Financial Foundation Collection
Reignette Chilton, author of Lincoln’s Great Coat and Lincoln’s Frock Coat
Freeman’s | Hindman Auctions

Categories: History | Tags: , , , , , , | 15 Comments

Take a Lincoln Assassination Tour in September and October 2026!

I wanted to take a moment to remind everyone of my upcoming Lincoln Assassination Tours over the escape route of John Wilkes Booth, planned for September 5, September 12, and October 17, 2026.

Lincoln Assassination Tours had a wonderful debut season this past spring. Not only were we able to sell enough tickets for each of our three scheduled tours to operate, but they were practically sold out! As a result, I was able to guide three entire busloads of history enthusiasts through D.C., Maryland, and Virginia, as we experienced the escape of John Wilkes Booth firsthand. I loved being back in the saddle again, continuing the legacy of the Surratt Society’s tours. I was very pleased by the outpouring of positive reviews from our first participants. Here are some wonderful photographs of our April 18 tour courtesy of participant Clark Conway:

I’m currently pushing hard to get enough tickets sold so that our upcoming fall tours will be just as successful. While I’m confident that the audience is there, the challenge is getting enough people to purchase tickets in advance so that we reach the threshold needed to ensure the tour can operate about a month before the tour.

At the moment, each of our planned fall tours is under our minimum threshold. Hence, this commercial break from your regular history content, to remind you all of Lincoln Assassination Tours and all we have to offer.

Reading about the events of April 14, 1865, and beyond is one thing, but it really is a unique experience to see the sites and stand on the ground where this history actually happened. On a Lincoln Assassination Tour, we cover John Wilkes Booth’s chaotic 12-day flight in a little under 12 hours. We take you on a 170-mile round-trip journey through D.C., Maryland, and Virginia. We disembark the bus at the rear door of Ford’s Theatre, the Surratt House Museum, the Dr. Samuel A. Mudd House Museum, Rich Hill, the spot where Booth tried to cross the Potomac, the Dahlgren Heritage Museum, Cleydael, and Horne’s. Also, starting with these fall tours, we’re adding one more stop. We will now disembark at the Port Royal Museum of History to see its exhibit on the death of John Wilkes Booth. We also do drive-bys of many other sites along Booth’s escape path. Your ticket includes all of this and a premium boxed lunch, which makes it a heck of a deal.

But don’t take my word for it (I’m starting to sound like an infomercial now). Check out the reviews left on our Google Business and TripAdvisor pages.

I’ve also received great feedback on our Lincoln Assassination Tours Facebook page.

I would be truly honored to share the trail with you this fall. Whether you’re a veteran of a Surratt Society or Smithsonian escape route tour from years past or just a history buff looking for something interesting to do, you are welcome. I promise that no matter your familiarity with the subject of Lincoln’s death, you’re bound to learn something new on a Lincoln Assassination Tour.

If a tour just isn’t in the cards for you this fall, I understand. I still appreciate your support and am grateful for any help you would be willing to provide to spread the word about the tours. You can like and share our stuff on Facebook if you’re active there. Here’s a short video I made recently for our Facebook, Instagram, YouTube, and Bluesky pages to highlight our tours:

(Fun fact: All of the font you see on screen in this video comes from the Wanted poster for John Wilkes Booth, David Herold, and John Surratt. For my own words, I painstakingly assembled the letters I needed from the text descriptions of the conspirators.)

But even if you’re not on social media, telling your history-loving friends and family makes a big difference. I know from my experience this past spring that this is a tour that people enjoy and will take, as long as they know about it.

Thank you all for your support of my very small business. It’s an honor to continue to share this important part of our history with others. Click here to visit Lincoln Assassination Tours and book your tickets for an upcoming tour today.

Sincerely,

Dave Taylor

Categories: History, Lincoln Assassination Tours | Tags: , , , , , , , , | 1 Comment

Under the Veil: Revealing the True Identity of John Wilkes Booth’s Photograph

The Assassin’s Collection of Photographs

In the early morning hours of April 26, 1865, Sgt. Boston Corbett ended the manhunt for Abraham Lincoln’s assassin by firing the shot that fatally wounded John Wilkes Booth. After collapsing to the ground, the assassin was dragged from the tobacco barn where he had taken refuge and laid out upon the Garrett farmhouse porch near Port Royal, Virginia. For the next couple of hours, Booth lingered in and out of consciousness as he bled from the bullet wound to the back of his neck. The gathered soldiers and detectives wasted no time in identifying Booth and going through his pockets.

The most significant find was a diary in which the assassin had written down his manifesto while on the run. Pages of this previously used 1864 datebook had been ripped out by the assassin in order to provide a clean slate for his ruminations on the assassination. The diary featured a leather case, black on the outside and Moroccan red on the inside. This case contained a pocket. Inside this pocket, the authorities found some cash in greenbacks, bills of exchange on a Canadian bank, and a small collection of photographs in the form of carte de visites.

These items, along with other small objects found on Booth’s person, were tied up together in a handkerchief. Detective Everton Conger, eager to tell the War Department that his group had tracked down Lincoln’s assassin, departed the Garrett farm before Booth had died with these items in tow. When Conger arrived in Washington, D.C., he reported to Secretary of War Edwin Stanton in his office. He handed over the parcel of Booth’s items in the presence of Stanton and General Lafayette Baker. Here was the physical evidence that Lincoln’s assassin had been found.

During the trial of the Lincoln conspirators in May and June of 1865, the items removed from Booth were present on the evidence table of the courtroom. While some of the items, such as the Canadian bills of exchange, were admitted into evidence at trial, very little attention was paid to the diary. Its written contents did not provide any new information about the plot other than Booth’s reasons for striking out against Lincoln and his complaints about being called a coward in the press. The diary was obliquely referred to during some of the testimony, but it was never entered into evidence as an exhibit. The five CDV images in the pocket were never referenced and likely not even known to anyone other than Judge Advocate General Joseph Holt. After the conspiracy trial ended, the diary and its contents were returned to the War Department for storage.

In 1867, the diary became public knowledge due to its reference in a congressional investigation into President Andrew Johnson and the trial of escaped conspirator John Surratt. President Johnson asked Stanton for an accounting of the diary, and the Secretary of War stated in a letter to the President that it contained “some photographs of females,” with no more elaboration. It was during the two aforementioned proceedings that Everton Conger also testified that images had been found on Booth:

“Q. Were these photographs in the book?
A. Yes, sir.
Q. How many were there?
A. I am unable to say.
Q. Could you not remember if any were taken away?
A. I could not. I can remember that some were there.
Q. Was there anything in this memorandum book at the time you took it from Booth that is not in it now?
A. Not that I know of.”

Once again, the images did not attract much attention. They just were not considered relevant to the investigations. After being displayed during these proceedings, the photographs and the diary were returned to the Judge Advocate General’s office of the War Department. It wasn’t until 1940 that the entire collection of exhibits and objects from the Lincoln assassination trial was transferred to the Lincoln Museum, the precursor to the restored Ford’s Theatre Museum.

Identification and Misidentification

While stored out of sight for over 70 years in the JAG office, the Lincoln relics were not completely forgotten. Different clerks in the JAG often showed off their macabre collection to visitors, including newspaper reporters. It was through these little show-and-tell sessions, which also included the weapons used by Booth and his gang, that the process of trying to identify the five photographs of ladies found on Booth’s person began.

A decade ago, I wrote a post about the process of identifying all the photographs found on Booth, including some incorrect claims that arose along the way. In truth, there doesn’t seem to have been any effort to identify the women in the photographs prior to the 1880s. Over time, a general consensus was reached as to the identification of four of the five ladies. The vignetted photographs were identified as:

  • Lucy Hale, John Wilkes Booth’s secret fiancée

  • Effie Germon, a fellow actress who was the visiting star at the National Theatre. The president’s son, Tad Lincoln, was watching Germon perform in the play Aladdin when the news arrived that his father had been shot at Ford’s Theatre.

  • Alice Gray, an actress who shared the stage as Booth’s leading lady during his time as a theater manager in D.C. in 1863.

  • Helen Western, an actress Booth performed alongside early in his career.

The identity of the woman in the final and only full-body image in the group remained elusive. The clerks in the JAG office came to refer to her as the “Mysterious Beauty.” The desire to identify this last image led the clerks to duplicate her CDV and circulate copies around. This tactic proved useful as she was finally identified as Fanny Brown, another actress well-known to Booth.

Thus, we can see that there was quite a bit of trial and error in trying to determine the identities of the photographs found in Booth’s pocket. But after the correct naming of the final image as Fanny Brown, a consensus was reached. These likenesses of Lucy Hale, Effie Germon, Alice Gray, Helen Western, and Fanny Brown are on display at the Ford’s Theatre museum. They have been duplicated in many books about the assassination. Websites such as this have reproduced them digitally and written about each woman’s connection to Booth. In short, there has been no question about the identity of these ladies for well over 100 years.

But one of these identifications is wrong.

Two years ago, I was working on my historical reviews of the miniseries Manhunt (loosely based on James Swanson’s 2006 book of the same name). In the penultimate episode of the series, a reference is made by the character of John Wilkes Booth to a scrape he once got into with a woman named Henrietta, who attacked him with a knife. This was based on a real event early in Booth’s career, where he was attacked by a fellow actress named Henrietta Irving in a lover’s quarrel, which may have involved Henrietta’s sister, Marie. While recounting that incident in my review, I noted that around the same time, Booth had also worked alongside another pair of acting sisters, Lucille and Helen Western. I created this image showing both Western sisters to include in the post.

Lucille and Helen Western

It then struck me that since the fictional Booth was recounting this story while hiding in the Garrett tobacco barn, I could make the connection that Booth had a picture of Helen Western on his person when he was killed. I then pulled up the picture of Helen Western found on Booth and, for the first time, directly compared the image found on Booth with a genuine photograph of Helen Western. I was immediately struck by how dissimilar they were in some key features.

Helen Western had curly, messy-looking hair, dark eyes, and a rounded jaw. The “Helen Western” in Booth’s pocket appeared to have straight hair (though mostly hidden by a veil), light eyes that had been touched up, and a pronounced jaw. I sought out more images of Helen Western for comparison.

In the end, each photograph of Helen Western strengthened my view that Booth’s “Helen Western” had been identified incorrectly.

Since photo identifications can be a bit subjective, I reached out to a few colleagues to ask for their opinions. The four people I reached out to all responded with their agreement that this image didn’t look like Helen Western. Thomas Bogar, theater historian and author of Backstage at the Lincoln Assassination, wrote, “I looked particularly at the convergence of the nose and eyes, and of the nose and mouth, and the slant and shape and thickness of the eyebrows, not to mention the shape and nose itself. No, this is not Helen Western, and it intrigues me who it might be.”

The Search

This began a search to see if the true identity of the veiled woman could be found. Despite Dr. Bogar’s long career as a theater historian, no immediate match came to his mind. I started making lists of actresses John Wilkes Booth shared the stage with during his career, then searched for images of these women. I visited the Harry Ransom Center in Austin, Texas, multiple times to consult their large theatre collection. I pulled many photograph files of actresses from the 1860s. There were a few possibilities along the way. The veiled woman shared some similarity in appearance to actress Lotty/Lottie Hough, who had performed with Booth in New York in 1862. But the match wasn’t perfect. Avonia Jones and Jean Clara Walters shared a similar hairstyle, but their dark eyes knocked them out. My wife Jen got so used to me closely comparing faces at my computer that “looking at my ladies” became a form of verbal shorthand between us.

A 1860s collage CDV featuring the images of 100 actresses

However, despite some intense search periods, I never came up with a close enough match to really convince me I had found the right person. There was no guarantee that this veiled woman was even an actress. For all I knew, it was an image of a random person Booth knew and, if so, it was unlikely I would ever figure out who she was. Though I would continue to investigate the occasional actress I stumbled across in references to Booth’s acting, my “ladies project” largely went on the back burner as I explored other research avenues.

In March of 2025, I stumbled onto an intriguing lead when one of my Google alerts for John Wilkes Booth came back with an article entitled “Deaf woman fought for the right to vote.” The article highlighted different proponents of female suffrage who were deaf. Included in this list was a journalist, poet, and author named Laura Redden. The article stated that she had once been acquainted with John Wilkes Booth and even taught the future assassin a basic form of sign language. The article also included an image of Redden taken in the 1880s.

This profile image didn’t immediately set off any bells in my mind, but I was intrigued to learn more about this deaf poet, her story, and her connection to John Wilkes Booth.

The Deaf Woman Heard Around the Nation

Laura Catherine Redden was born on February 9, 1839 or 1840 (contradictory sources exist) in Somerset County on the eastern shore of Maryland. Following her father’s murder and her mother’s remarriage, Redden’s family moved from Maryland to Missouri, settling in St. Louis. In 1851, when Redden was about 11 years old, she became ill, likely with spinal meningitis. She recovered from her illness but was left completely deaf. The illness also affected her voice in such a manner that she gradually chose not to speak. This rendered her both deaf and mute. While initially hesitant to enroll at a school for the deaf, she eventually agreed to attend the Institute for the Deaf and Dumb in Fulton, Missouri. There she learned sign language, the American Manual Alphabet, and she attempted to learn lip reading, but she was never able to master the latter skill. For communication with those who did not know sign language, Redden resorted to writing. Initially, this consisted of her school slate and pencils, but in time, she carried a pad of paper with her everywhere she went.

As the written word largely became her only means of communication with the outside world, Redden began exploring it in all forms. She quickly became known for her works of prose and poetry, submitting many poems to periodicals like Harper’s Magazine. Redden was considered a star student, and upon her graduation in 1858, she was even offered a teaching position at the school, but she declined. She moved back in with her family in St. Louis and soon accepted a position as the literary editor for a weekly Presbyterian newspaper.

The tenor of the times in the late 1850s into the early 1860s was that of the growing conflict between the slave power in the South and Northern abolitionism. Redden compsoed poems about events of the day while also writing political editorials and submitting them to the St. Louis Republican newspaper. To gain purchase in the political sphere dominated by men, the 20-year-old Redden wrote under the pen name Howard Glyndon.

Redden had grown up in the slave states of Maryland and Missouri and was initially against the cause of abolition. In the lead-up to the election of 1860, Redden supported the candidacy of Stephen Douglas, feeling that the election of either Abraham Lincoln or John C. Breckinridge would throw the country into disunion and war. When Douglas lost to Lincoln, and several southern states seceded from the Union prior to his inauguration, Redden (as Glyndon) appealed for calmer heads to prevail. In an editorial called “Stand Together,” Redden called for patriots in the North and South to counter the movements of the extremists on both sides and join together under the banner “Union for the Union!” When the Civil War began with the firing on Fort Sumter by Confederate forces in South Carolina, Redden argued against her state of Missouri joining the Confederacy, despite her strong disagreements with the federal government.

Prior to the hostilities, a Missouri convention had voted almost unanimously against secession. In June of 1861, the Missouri governor, Claiborne Jackson, was in secret communication with Confederate President Jefferson Davis regarding a plan to force Missouri to secede by way of a military coup. Redden vehemently advocated against Gov. Jackson’s call to draft 50,000 soldiers into the state’s militia, not even knowing what his true purpose was. Ultimately, Governor Jackson’s coup failed due to the intervention of Union General Nathaniel Lyon and his forces, who ousted Jackson and caused him to flee into southwestern Missouri. In August of 1861, Nathaniel Lyon became the first Union general to die in battle when his forces lost to Confederate forces at the Battle of Wilson’s Creek near Springfield, Missouri. The victorious Confederates were aided by members of the Missouri State Guard acting under the command of Sterling Price, one of Gov. Jackson’s acolytes.

A month later, Confederate partisans enacted an attack by partially burning the supports of a rail bridge that spanned the Platte River east of St. Joseph, Missouri. This caused a derailment of a west-bound train that crashed into the Platte River, killing about 20 and wounding 100 of the crew and civilian passengers. The death of Gen. Lyon at the hands of “neutral” Missouri guardsmen, and this secessionist attack on innocent men, women, and children riding a train, made a strong impact on Redden. In the aftermath of these events, Redden, as Glyndon, wrote, “I have been very patient and very moderate on this subject, but this last outrage is too much for my feelings. If all I hear of it is true, I will never bear another word in extenuation of rebellion in Missouri, or the policy of mild measures.”

Glyndon’s moderate Union views published in the papers made “him” an enemy in secessionist circles. Efforts were made by pro-Confederate sympathizers to identify the prolific columnist. The pro-secessionist newspaper, the State Journal, eventually broke the news that the learned Howard Glyndon of the St. Louis Republican was, in fact, a 21-year-old deaf woman named Laura Redden. Though publicly unmasked, Redden was not silenced into submission. In fact, the “unchivalrous attack” made on her by secessionist enemies worked to elevate her reputation. The story of the thoughtful and intriguing young woman writing about the most important political matters of the day under a pseudonym made headlines, and soon, other papers were clamoring for pieces by “Howard Glyndon.”

In September of 1861, Redden was sent by the St. Louis Republican to Washington, D.C., to act as a war correspondent. Upon arrival in D.C., Redden made the acquaintance of Attorney General Edward Bates, a fellow Missourian. It was through an introduction from Bates that Redden first met Abraham Lincoln. Though a harsh critic of Lincoln and his administration less than a year before, Redden was quickly sympathetic to the man who bore the weight of the world on his shoulders. She wrote, “You could not to save your life, even if you were that man’s bitterest enemy, look upon that shattered giant and come away without feeling a respectful pity for the suffering that is so plainly written on his honest face.”

Her dispatches home were filled with discussions of the sights of Washington, and she continued to compose poems revolving around the events of the day. She often resided at the Willard, one of the best hotels in the city, and a common place of lodging for members of Congress and visiting dignitaries. Redden made visits to the War Department and Telegraph Offices, establishing a rapport with the clerks and employees. Her method of communication through writing made her an oddity of sorts, and she used the curiosity of others to further her journalistic and artistic pursuits.

Over the next few years, Redden became well known in the social and political circles of the capital. She interacted with many members of Congress and was even invited to the occasional White House Ball by Mrs. Lincoln. In June of 1862, Redden took up a new project in addition to her role as war correspondent. She was hired by New York publishers Baker & Godwin to write a volume of short biographies about sitting members of the House of Representatives. Redden was assisted by several of her male journalist counterparts, who wrote draft sketches of some of the representatives. But the final book was of Redden’s construction, and it was completed by the fall of 1862. Notable Men in “The House:” A Series of Sketches of Prominent Men in the House of Representatives, Members of the Thirty-Seventh Congress, contained biographies of 52 members of the House and was published under the Howard Glyndon non de plume.

In the summer of 1863, Redden traveled back to St. Louis for a visit. While back home, she was asked by music publisher Balmer & Weber to compose the lyrics for a Missouri-centric pro-Union song. Balmer & Weber were familiar with the song “Maryland, My Maryland,” written by James Ryder Randall. That was a secessionist ballad written during the early days of the Civil War, urging Maryland to join the Confederacy. Just like Missouri, Maryland was a slave state with deeply divided sympathies. Randall’s song called for Maryland to rise up against the despot on its shores, referring to Lincoln. In one verse, Randall writes that Maryland, “is not dead, nor deaf, nor dumb – Huzzah! She spurns the Northern scum.” The irony of asking Redden, the celebrated deaf poet and journalist, to write a pro-Union Missouri counterpoint to Randall’s song was not lost on the 23-year-old. Redden agreed and composed the lyrics to “Belle Missouri,” inscribed to the Union volunteers of Missouri. The song, which copied the same music as “Maryland, My Maryland” (which itself was a copy of the Christmas song “Oh, Tannenbaum”), was an unapologetic and rousing pro-Union song, ending with the call to rise up, “the loyal stripes and stars,” and “down with the traitor stars and bars.”

Redden’s time in Washington had caused her to rethink her earlier proslavery stance. In the aftermath of the Emancipation Proclamation, she witnessed scores of Black men enlist in the Union Army to fight for their country and the freedom of their brethren. Their bravery and sacrifice were not lost on Redden. In the aftermath of the Fort Pillow massacre, in which Black Union soldiers were killed after surrendering to Confederate forces who had overwhelmed the garrison, Redden composed a scathing poem criticizing those who still claimed that Black men were not willing to fight. She ended the poem with:

“Perhaps, when they hallow this common cause
With their thousands of nameless graves,
Your selfish hearts will proclaim at last.
They are men, and they are not slaves!”

In 1864, Redden was back in Washington when Ulysses S. Grant came to town to be promoted to Lt. General by President Lincoln. Like everyone else, she desired to meet the man who would now command the entire Union army. In April, she secured a pass to visit Grant at his headquarters near Culpeper, Virginia. Redden was immediately impressed by Grant, and the General also took a liking to the journalist poet and her unique way of communicating. A polite friendship arose between the two. During this time, Redden’s mother died, and she desired to secure a position of some sort for her younger brother, Alex, who was then 16 years old. General Grant assisted in enlisting Redden’s underage brother in the cavalry and then transferred to his own staff as a boy orderly.

A military pass issued to Laura Redden from General Ulysses S. Grant

It was also during 1864 that Redden undertook the task of assembling the many poems she had written over the course of the war and compiling them for publication. She named her collected volume of war poems, Idyls of Battle and Poems of the Rebellion. In August of 1864, Redden presented a manuscript of her collection to President Lincoln personally. On August 29, 1864, Redden picked the manuscript back up from the President, and Lincoln had written the following note of support: “At the request of the Author I have glanced over these poems, and find them all patriotic, and some very pretty. A. Lincoln.” In the preface to the book (also published under the Glyndon pen name), Redden included a long list of patrons and subscribers who supported her efforts. Heading the list were President Lincoln and General Grant. These two were followed by a veritable who’s who of the political elite, including Senators, Representatives, Governors, Army officers, foreign diplomats, and lawyers.

In February of 1865, Laura Redden departed America for a planned six-month visit to Europe. This tour would actually last almost four years as Redden soaked in the sights and history of Italy, the Papal States, and France. She learned the languages of her host countries, along with German and Spanish. She now acted as a foreign correspondent for several newspapers in the States and also supplemented her income by writing research articles and providing translation services.

Redden would eventually return to America and continue to write and publish poems. In 1869, she translated a French novel called Brother and Sister: Or A Little Boy’s Story, for English audiences. Redden ultimately published four books of poetry over the years: Idyls of Battle and Poems of the Rebellion (1864), Sounds from Secret Chambers (1874), Of El Dorado (1897), and Echoes of Other Days (1921). She also went to school under the tutelage of Alexander Graham Bell, who helped her relearn how to use her voice again. In 1872, a town in western Minnesota was named Glyndon in honor of Redden and her literary accomplishments. In 1876, Redden married a man named Edward Searing, and while the marriage did not last, it did result in the birth of a daughter, Elsa. In the 1880s, Redden moved to California and resided there for the rest of her life, except for a brief time when she lived with Elsa and her husband, John McGinn, in Fairbanks, Alaska. Laura Redden Searing died on August 10, 1923. She was buried at Holy Cross Catholic Cemetery in Colma, CA.

The Poet and the Assassin

Sometime during Laura Redden’s residency in Washington or during her visits to New York City in 1864 and 1865, she made the acquaintance of actor John Wilkes Booth. The exact details of their first meeting and the length of their association are not known. However, we do know that by February of 1865, Redden and Booth were on friendly terms. During this time, Booth was secretly engaged to Lucy Hale, the daughter of former New Hampshire Senator John P. Hale, one of Redden’s poetic patrons listed in her book. This was the same time when Redden was staying in New York, preparing to depart on her European journey. John Wilkes Booth was also visiting New York at the time, staying at his brother Edwin’s home. There he was joined by his eldest brother Junius, who was also visiting. Junius penned a letter to their sister Asia, then living in Philadelphia, informing her of family news. The elder brother noted that John Wilkes had stayed up all night working on an acrostic valentine for Lucy Hale and ensuring it would get in the mail on time. Then, the next day, Wilkes stayed up again until 3:30 am writing a long letter to Lucy, this time pestering his brother to act as a dictionary for him, much to Junius’s annoyance. Junius then includes the following few lines in his letter:

“The Dumb and Deaf poetess Miss Reading [sic] you & I were speaking about is here & John is acquainted with her & is practicing his fingers to talk with her – since his Acrostic he is resolved to cultivate his Muse.”

Thus, it appears that Booth was attempting to learn a bit of sign language or, more likely, the manual alphabet of finger spelling, in order to better converse with Redden. But the actor had little time to study, as on February 18, 1865, Laura Redden set sail for Europe. Before she departed, however, John Wilkes Booth wrote a farewell note to Redden. That goodbye message, written in pencil on a dark sheet of paper, reads:

“‘Parting is such sweet sorrow that I could say good night till it be morrow’
With every wish for your good and prayer for your happiness
I am toujours le meme
J. Wilkes Booth”

In this note, Booth slightly alters Juliet’s line from Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet and ends with a French phrase which translates to “always the same.”

With that, Redden sailed off to Europe. She was touring Italy when the news of the fall of the Confederate capital of Richmond and General Lee’s surrender to General Grant reached her. “I and all the Americans drank to the flag,” Redden wrote in her diary. Soon, however, the times of celebration would turn to mourning. On April 14, Redden’s friendly acquaintance, John Wilkes Booth, assassinated Abraham Lincoln at Ford’s Theatre while his conspirator, Lewis Powell, violently attacked Secretary of State William Seward and members of his household. It took some time for the news to reach Redden in Rome, and initial reports were hazy. On April 27, Redden wrote in her diary, “It is reported from the American Ambassador that Mr. Lincoln is assassinated and that Mr. Seward is dying. That it was done in Richmond. I wait to hear further advice before deciding as to the truth of it.” Further meetings of the American delegation in Rome soon revealed the truth, and Redden was greatly saddened by the national calamity. On May 10, 1865, what would have been John Wilkes Booth’s 27th birthday, Redden recorded the following in her diary:

“We heard today that Wilkes Booth had been taken – he was in a granary – and they discovered him and set fire to the building and he was killed while defending himself. What a dreadful story from beginning to end! It is very hard, when both he and Mr. Lincoln were my personal friends.”

A Farewell Photo Among Friends?

For months, I had been looking into different actresses in my attempt to identify the mysterious veiled woman found in Booth’s diary. But the knowledge that Laura Redden had interacted with Booth two months before he assassinated the President and, more importantly, that Booth composed a farewell message to Redden prior to her European voyage led to an intriguing conclusion. Could Laura Redden have given Booth a photograph of herself as her own farewell gift to him?

Exchanging carte de visite photographs was common among friends, and Booth, a vain actor, was well known to have kept many copies of his own images to give away. Laura Redden, a celebrity in her own right, would also likely have images to present as keepsakes to those she met. In one of Grant’s letters to Redden in 1864, the General thanked her for pictures she sent him of herself and her brother, Alex. It made sense that Redden would present Booth with a token of her esteem on the eve of her departure, especially since Booth himself had presented her with a goodbye note.

By doing some searches, I was able to find a few images of Laura Redden from her younger years and compared them to the veiled woman image from Booth’s diary. The following is one of my first side-by-side comparisons with two images of Redden taken in about 1871 and 1867.

I noticed a strong resemblance in the jaw line and nose, and the light colored eyes were also a match. Remember that some mild alteration has been made to Booth’s CDV. The eyes, lips, and cheeks of the veiled woman have been lightly colorized. But there were only a few images of Laura Redden in her younger years available online, and the quality of the images I found was somewhat lacking. Still, even with these rougher comparisons, I began to believe that after many false starts, I was finally on the right path.

In the end, I knew my best bet was to consult a collection of Laura Redden Searing’s papers housed in Columbia, Missouri. They had been donated to The State Historical Society of Missouri in 1998 by Redden’s great-grandson, Thomas McGinn Smith. From the historical society’s online finding aid, I knew that the collection housed several folders of images of Redden, her poetry, diaries from Europe, letters from General Grant and other dignitaries, and the farewell message penned by John Wilkes Booth. My hope was that the collection would contain an identical copy of the veiled woman image, thus proving that the image found on Booth was indeed Laura Redden. While I was eager to check out the collection as soon as possible, the distance between my home in Texas and the papers in Columbia, Missouri, made a research trip not feasible for a while.

However, last month, my parents celebrated their 50th wedding anniversary in my home state of Illinois. Rather than flying back for the celebration, my family and I chose to drive. I planned our route to include an overnight in Columbia, so that I could squeeze in a brief morning research visit to the historical society before we hit the road again. With only two hours to spend, I eagerly signed into the reading room of The State Historical Society of Missouri and started looking through the boxes of the Laura Redden Searing papers the archivists had pulled for me.

I took images of Booth’s farewell note to Redden, correspondences Redden had with General Grant, his aides Gen. Cyrus Comstock and Adam Badeau, and even the above letter from Edwin Booth, thanking Redden for sending him a copy of her poems. I hurriedly tried to read through Redden’s lengthy diary from Italy. It proved very difficult to find her passing references to hearing the news of Lincoln’s death among the pages and pages of her descriptions of the ornate churches and museums she visited. There was also a short, handwritten essay Redden composed in the post-war years called “President Lincoln’s Life Might Have Been Saved.” It contained Redden’s interview with two eyewitnesses of the tragedy at Ford’s Theatre and their opinion that Lincoln’s death could have been prevented had footman Charles Forbes acted differently that night. The eyewitness account is full of factual mistakes, such as claiming Tad Lincoln was present at Ford’s Theatre and that Mrs. Lincoln was not, and this may account for why Redden never published the piece.

But, of course, my focus was on the collection’s photographs. An old family photo album promised five images of Redden from the 1860s, but only two were actually present, and both show Redden in costume during her time abroad. While there were many pictures of Redden as an older woman with her daughter, Elsa, there were scant few images of her in her younger years. Sadly, the photograph I was most hoping for, a duplicate of the veiled woman image found on Booth, was not in the collection.

But this is not to say that I struck out. The collection contained two good-quality images of Redden in a similar pose to the veiled woman image. One dates to about 1859, around the time she started working for the St. Louis Republican, and features Redden with a long braid.

The other is undated but appears to be from the early 1860s. In this image, Redden has shorter hair, and the CDV is inscribed to one of her siblings, possibly Alex.

Here are these two images of Redden with Booth’s veiled woman between them.

While I know photographic comparisons can be very subjective, I believe these three images show the same person.

My Conclusions

Well over 100 years ago, an unnamed clerk or newspaper reporter visiting the office of the Judge Advocate General decided that one of the photographs found on John Wilkes Booth when he died was of Helen Western. Since then, generations of historians, members of the public, and even the National Park Service have taken this identification to be correct. In countless books and articles about the assassination of Abraham Lincoln, Helen Western’s name has been included as a footnote. But the identification of Western was little more than a guess, and as has been demonstrated here, an incorrect one.

A detailed (but by no means exhaustive) search was undertaken to compare the image of the veiled woman to images of actresses with whom John Wilkes Booth shared the stage, in hopes the figure would prove to be a fellow actor. This was done because three of the other images in Booth’s diary were of his contemporaries, Effie Germon, Alice Gray, and Fanny Brown. This search failed to find any strong matches.

A consultation of the Laura Redden Searing papers at The State Historical Society of Missouri failed to find an exact duplicate of Booth’s photograph. However, other images of Laura Redden as she appeared in the 1850s – 1870s all bear a striking resemblance to the veiled figure in Booth’s photograph.

We know from Booth family writings and from Laura Redden’s own diary that she had a friendship with John Wilkes Booth. Before she left for Europe on February 18, 1865, John Wilkes Booth wrote her a farewell message. It would have been a very natural development for Redden to have reciprocated Booth’s farewell note with a photograph of herself for her friend to remember her by. The actor then placed the gifted photograph in the pocket of his diary, where it found company with images of his fiancée, Lucy Hale, and three of his peers. Two months later, the photograph was still in the diary pocket when Booth assassinated Abraham Lincoln at Ford’s Theatre, and he was subsequently cornered and killed at the Garrett farm.

By the time the clerks in the JAG office began trying to identify the images found on Booth in the 1880s, Redden was no longer a Washington resident and not in the public eye as she once was. It is unlikely the younger clerks from the 1880s onward even knew the 1860s war correspondent “Howard Glyndon” and her work. With her true identity unknown, she was erroneously labeled as Helen Western.

While the search will continue to find another example of the veiled woman photograph that isn’t an exact duplicate of the CDV found on Booth, I am confident that if such a photograph turns up, it will be labeled as Laura Redden Searing. The photographic and historical evidence we have makes a strong and compelling case.

Laura Redden’s Legacy

My purpose in writing this piece is not only to correct the record regarding the identity of the woman found in the pocket of Lincoln’s assassin, but also to draw attention to the amazing life and work of Laura Redden Searing. She fought hard to occupy political and social spaces dominated almost exclusively by men. When her fictitious male pseudonym was revealed, she didn’t back down but openly embraced her duality as both Redden and Glyndon to gain agency and intellectual freedom. When deafness forced Redden to rely on the written word to communicate, she became a master of prose and verse. Despite her long muteness, her collections of poems, especially her wartime ballads, gave voice to the immense feelings of loss and triumph that filled the nation. Laura Redden deserves to be known to a new generation of historians and readers.

I invite you all to read more about, and from, Laura Redden. The following were of immense help in writing this piece:

Echoes of Other Days by Howard Glyndon (Laura C. R. Searing) – This is a large volume of Redden’s poems, including her Civil War pieces, compiled by her daughter in 1921

Sweet Bells Jangled: Laura Redden Searing a Deaf Poet Restored edited by Judy Yaeger Jones and Jane E. Vallier (available to read for free from Gallaudet University)

Fighting in the Shadows: Untold Stories of Deaf People in the Civil War by Harry G. Lang

“The Truth About Mrs. Lincoln” by Howard Glyndon – In 1882, Laura Redden Searing wrote this interesting piece for The Independent magazine, defending the late Mary Lincoln.

Lastly, I would like to give my thanks to the archivists and staff of The State Historical Society of Missouri in Columbia. Without the work of archivists going through collections and creating detailed finding aids, the work of independent researchers like me just wouldn’t be possible.

Categories: History | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , | 13 Comments

Who Attended Ford’s Theatre? by Joe Barry

On this 161st anniversary of the assassination of Abraham Lincoln at Ford’s Theatre, researcher and author Joe Barry shares with us a project he is working on to create a singular list of people who claimed to have attended that fateful performance. I’m grateful to Joe for sharing his research with us and for taking up the mantle of trying to document this event in such a way.


Who Attended Ford’s Theatre the Fateful Night of April 14, 1865?

by Joe Barry

Albert Berghaus illustration of inside Ford’s Theatre from Frank Leslie’s Illustrated Newspaper, May 20, 1865

Good Friday, April 14, 1865 was one of the most consequential days in American history. The exact details of President Abraham Lincoln’s assassination have been contested by scores of eyewitnesses who offered contradictory testimony, and whose fading memories over the succeeding decades added further confusion. In light of this challenge, a comprehensive spreadsheet of the attendees at Ford’s Theatre provides an opportunity to clarify the record. Towards this goal, the first such list can be found here.

But first, how many people attended that evening? To determine a ceiling on the attendance, there are differing estimates of the maximum capacity of Ford’s Theatre. The National Park Service states that although owner John T. Ford claimed the theater could hold 2,500, the actual capacity was closer to 1,900. Given eyewitness testimony that audience members were able to change their seats, we know it was not at full capacity, and therefore the National Park Service estimates 1,700 attended that night. However, the National Park Service also conducted a deep historical study of Ford’s Theatre in 1963 to assist its restoration into the theater and museum we enjoy today. This study cited a capacity of 1,624 (602 in Orchestra level, 422 for the Dress Circle, and around 600 in the Family Circle). Therefore, a basic—if not completely satisfying—answer is there were well over 1,000 attendees at Ford’s Theatre on April 14, 1865.[1]

Ford’s Theatre Orchestra level diagram, National Park Service

Although the broad outlines of the assassination are well-known, particular details remain in debate:

  • What did John Wilkes Booth say, and did he say it in the president’s box, mid-flight, on stage, or while fleeing?
  • Did Booth injure himself upon landing on stage?
  • How did the audience respond in terms of rushing the stage and how orderly or disorderly were they?
  • What was the status of the employees backstage? Did Booth knock down and slash conductor William Withers, or merely brush past him? Did Edman “Ned” Spangler assist in Booth’s escape?
  • Who was present with the dying president in the box? Did Laura Keene cradle Lincoln?
  • Who helped Lincoln from the box to the Petersen House across the street?

For each of these questions, there is a general consensus formed by the majority view, as well as several outliers who challenge the consensus. This list allows us to place the eyewitness claims in one place, to evaluate sources, to find patterns based on their identity and location in the theater, and other details that may affect the veracity of their account.

Orchestra, Dress Circle, and Family Circle bench seats, National Park Service

Of course, a full Ford’s Theatre attendee list will include a lot of dubious and contradictory testimony. Skepticism is natural, healthy, and nothing new. In fact, with so many obituaries of attendees appearing in newspapers of the 1920s and 1930s, one reporter in 1932 joked: “Another man died the other day who helped carry the assassinated Lincoln from Ford’s theater in 1865. Now its somebody’s turn to say they crossed the Delaware with Washington.”[2]

This list benefits from valuable sources such as Timothy Good’s We Saw Lincoln Shot: One Hundred Eyewitness Accounts, Thomas Bogar’s Backstage at the Lincoln Assassination: The Untold Story of the Actors and Stagehands at Ford’s Theatre, The Lincoln Financial Foundation’s folders of eyewitness testimony, online sources such as Newspapers.com and Ancestry.com, and physical archives nationwide.

Work still remains to complete the details of the accounts, and to verify the sources. There is no pride in authorship, and the best results will come from a combined effort to chronicle as many people as possible. It is helpful, though, to have a common document to unify the research so that everyone can benefit from the shared effort. The list will be continually updated.

Given the number of attendees at Ford’s Theatre on April 14, 1865, hundreds of more accounts remain to be found from both online and archival sources. To be sure, there is a finite number of details we can glean from the existing record, barring any new discoveries. Still, many people researching their ancestors’ genealogies will find this a valuable resource. The joy is in hunt; here is to further research and discoveries!

Orchestra ticket stub for April 14, 1865, Freeman’s Auctions


[1] George J. Olzewski, “Restoration of Ford’s Theatre, Washington, D.C.,” National Park Service (Washington, D.C., 1963), 37-39; “Frequently Asked Questions: The Assassination,” Ford’s Theatre, https://www.nps.gov/foth/learn/historyculture/faq-the-assassination.htm, accessed March 29, 2026.
[2] “Evansville Courier and Press (Evansville, Indiana), Jun. 25, 1932, p. 4.


As an example of the work Joe is doing, here is a video of the supposed last witness to the assassination of Lincoln, Mr. Samuel Seymour of Maryland. Please note that the video is in a vertical format for social media.

If you’d like to read the article from American Weekly referenced by host Garry Moore in the clip above, check out this post about Mr. Seymour.

Categories: History, Joe Barry | Tags: , , , | 7 Comments

The Many Coats of Abraham Lincoln with Reignette Chilton

When Abraham Lincoln was assassinated at Ford’s Theatre, he was wearing two coats. His outer layer was a custom greatcoat from the celebrated clothier Brooks Brothers. President Lincoln originally wore this greatcoat with the phrase “One Country, One Destiny” embroidered on the inside at his second inauguration, just a month before his murder. In 2019, researcher and author Reignette Chilton published a book called Lincoln’s Greatcoat: The Unlikely Odyssey of a Presidential Relic. In that book, Ms. Chilton documented the greatcoat’s journey from being a private possession of a White House doorkeeper’s family to a national treasure that long greeted visitors upon their entrance to Ford’s Theatre.

In January of 2026, Ms. Chilton released a new book delving into the other coat Lincoln wore on the fateful night of April 14, 1865. Beneath the elaborate Brooks Brothers greatcoat, Lincoln wore a regular suit coat, known as a frock coat. In the over 160 years since his death, three different frock coats have become associated with the tragedy at Washington. They exist in the collections of the Smithsonian, Ford’s Theatre, and the Chicago History Museum. But which is THE coat Lincoln was wearing when the fatal bullet was fired? In Lincoln’s Frock Coat: The Enduring Mystery of an Assassination Relic, Ms. Chilton dives deep into each frock coat and the evidence behind the claims. The journeys of these frock coats involve members of the Lincoln family, trusted White House staff, noted artists, wealthy collectors, auctioneers, lawyers, and more, as supporters of two of the coats fought bitterly to be recognized as the true assassination relic. It’s a historical mystery expertly solved through primary sources and comprehensive analysis.

I was fortunate to conduct a virtual interview with Reignette Chilton to discuss her background, research, and fascinating books, with an emphasis on the mysterious Lincoln frock coats. Reignette had so many interesting stories to share that we talked for over an hour and a half, and even then, we only scratched the surface of these relics. I hope you enjoy the interview.

If this interview has whetted your appetite for more (and I hope it has), go out and buy or borrow Lincoln’s Frock Coat: The Enduring Mystery of an Assassination Relic to learn which coat deserves to be called the last frock coat Lincoln ever wore.

Categories: History, News | Tags: , , , , , | 4 Comments

In the Peanut Gallery

I’m very grateful to Joe Barry and his piece “Will Research for Peanuts,” which he recently contributed to this website. Through his research, Joe put together the known facts about Peanut John and documented some of the theories that exist about the identification of this young man who innocently held John Wilkes Booth’s horse behind Ford’s Theatre.

Inspired by Joe’s work, I decided to do a little bit of digging into Peanuts on my own, and I have come up with my own possible theory. While I originally received Joe’s approval to add my speculation to the end of his piece, I didn’t want to detract from his writing with my own, lengthy conjecture. Instead, consider this post to be my own addition to the Peanut John discourse.

The main issue with trying to research this young man who held Booth’s horse is a lack of a consistent name. He was nicknamed variations of “Peanut John” and “John Peanuts” by the stagehands and employees at Ford’s Theatre. Harry Clay Ford, one of the managing operators of Ford’s Theatre, admitted to not knowing his employee’s full name, stating, “We have a doorkeeper at the back door, John. I don’t know his last name. The boys call him ‘Peanut.’ He is expected to keep the back door, and he works around the theater.” To Ford’s credit, he did not have much in the way of interactions with Peanuts, as the boy usually acted under the direction of James Gifford, the chief carpenter of the theater.

In one of his statements to the authorities, Peanuts notes that “They generally call me John Peanuts around [the theater] because I used to peddle peanuts.” It was not uncommon for individuals to sell small treats and concessions such as peanuts and candy to theater guests. In fact, Peanuts was actually one of several boys who engaged in this practice.

For much of the Civil War years, Dr. Ithamer S. Drake had been employed as a clerk in the Census Bureau in Washington, D.C. During the latter part of his employment, Dr. Drake resided with his family on 9th Street. Just about a week before the assassination, the Drake family had moved back to the doctor’s home in Richmond, Indiana. After hearing of the national calamity in Washington, Dr. Drake wrote a letter to an acquaintance of his who still resided in the city. The recipient was William A. Cook, a clerk in the General Land Office in the Department of the Interior. Dr. Drake noted to Cook that, “My youngest boy was in the habit of going through the theater with other boys.” The doctor then recounted how this son, Frank, informed him that during his time around Ford’s Theatre, he had heard disloyal talk from the scene painter at the theater, James Lamb, at the time of the fall of Richmond, Virginia. Dr. Drake alluded to possible conversations between Lamb and John Wilkes Booth that he felt should be investigated. In the letter, Dr. Drake informed Cook that one of the boys his son hung out with at the theater was David Finney and that he should be questioned on the matter. 

With the permission of Col. John Foster, one of the special commissioners engaged in investigating the assassination, William Cook interviewed David Finney at his father’s home on the corner of 9th and H Streets. Finney, who was about 15 years old at the time, described to Cook that while he did not recall any disloyal statements from Lamb when the Confederate capital fell, he did recall Lamb chastizing some revelers on the night of the Grand Illumination to celebrate the Union’s victory on April 13th. David Finney pointed out that Frank Drake was more acquainted with the people in the theater since the doctor’s son was “allowed to sell ‘gumdrops’ etc. in the building.”

In this way, we know that Frank Drake acted as a sort of gumdrop and peanut boy at Ford’s Theatre. But he had left D.C. with his father shortly before the assassination, so we know he’s not our Peanut John. While in his statement to Cook, David Finney makes it seem like only Frank Drake was involved in the gumdrop trade, when Finney died in 1925, his obituaries noted that he also sold “candy and peanuts in Ford’s Theatre.” Moreover, these obituaries state that Finney was selling concessions the night Lincoln was killed and witnessed the events. In addition, one of Dr. Drake’s other sons, Albert, also told his father about the goings on at the theater, making it likely that there was a small cadre of boys who hung around the theater and made extra money selling gumdrops and peanuts.

While Peanut John had received his nickname from selling peanuts around the theater, he had clearly advanced beyond this role at the time of the assassination, leaving the job to boys like David Finney and the Drake brothers. As noted by Harry Clay Ford, Peanut was tasked with guarding the stage door: “He is to keep all strangers out, everybody…His instructions are not to let strangers on the stage.” In his own testimony, Peanut described his role thusly: “I used to stand at the stage-door, and then carry bills in the daytime.” During the day of April 14, Peanuts also assisted in the decorating of the Presidential box. In short, Peanut John was a gofer of sorts, fulfilling any small task given to him by James Gifford or anyone at the theater. 

It’s worth pointing out that the stage door that Peanuts was tasked with guarding during performances is not the back door through which John Wilkes Booth entered. Rather, his place was located stage left on the south side of the building. A covered alleyway of sorts ran from Tenth Street all the way to the rear of Ford’s Theatre into Baptist Alley. This walkway separated Ford’s Theatre proper from the Star Saloon located just to the south. A side door of the Star Saloon led directly into this passageway, and it appears the Fords may have had an issue with bar patrons mistakenly opening the door directly onto the stage during performances. Therefore, Peanut John guarded this door, preventing anyone from accidentally interrupting a performance. When Peanuts was called by Edman Spangler, he abandoned his normal post to hold Booth’s horse directly behind Ford’s Theatre.

Location of Peanut John’s normal station, guarding the stage door at Ford’s Theatre

Prior to taking the stand at the trial of the conspirators, Peanut John gave two statements to the authorities. The first was on the morning of Lincoln’s death, April 15th. Edman Spangler was arrested around 6:00 am that day and taken to the police station on E Street between 9th and 10th. He had been brought in by Sergeant C. M. Skippon. As Spangler later recalled, “The sergeant, after questioning me closely, went with two policemen to search for Peanut John (the name of the boy who held Booth’s horse the night before) and made to accompany us to the headquarters of the police on Tenth street, where John and I were locked up…” After a period of time in confinement, both Spangler and Peanut were brought before Abram B. Olin, a Justice of the Supreme Court of D.C., who examined them individually and took down their accounts. Peanut John dictated two pages to Justice Olin. In this document, his name is given as Joseph Burrough. As noted by Joe in his article, he does not sign this name, however. Instead, he merely puts an “X” as his mark. Generally speaking, making an X implies that the person could not write their own name and that they may be illiterate. 

Due to Peanut not signing his name, Justice Olin needed a witness to swear to the fact that Peanut had, in fact, made the X himself. For this, Olin recruited the assistance of another witness who was awaiting examination. William T. Kent had been present at Ford’s Theatre and witnessed the shooting. After the call went up for help, Kent made his way into the Presidential box to render aid. When Dr. Charles Leale required a blade of some sort to cut open Lincoln’s shirt, Kent provided his penknife. After leaving the theater, Kent realized that he had lost his keys in the confusion. He was granted access back into the theater and searched the box. During his search, Kent came across the derringer used to shoot Lincoln. It was dropped in the box and kicked into a corner during the work to save the President. Kent took the gun and turned it over to the police, and he was now waiting his turn to tell his story to Justice Olin. The Justice thus had William Kent act as a witness to Peanut’s “signature” on this statement. Then it appears that Peanut John was released. 

Nine days later, Peanut was interviewed again about the circumstances and people at Ford’s Theatre. This conversation on April 24th was transcribed onto six pages. The name given for this interview is John C. Bohrar, though there is no signature section at the end (X or otherwise). In this interview, Peanut gives more details about his caring for Booth’s stable behind Ford’s Theatre, and the circumstances of how he ended up holding Booth’s horse on the night of the assassination. While the name John Bohrar is different from Joseph Burrough, it’s clear that the same person was interviewed in both statements.

In his article, Joe explored the different Joseph Burroughs/Borrowses that have been suggested as possibly being “our” Peanut. Michael Kauffman theorized in American Brutus that Peanut might have been a son of Dr. Joseph Borrows, who lived right on E Street near Ford’s Theatre. But, thus far, we can’t seem to prove that Dr. Borrows had a surviving son at the time of the assassination. Fellow researcher Steve Williams tracked a Joseph A. Burroughs, who lived in Tenleytown (a neighborhood in the far northwest quadrant of D.C.) and later moved to Baltimore. He would have been about the right age for the teenage Peanuts, but this Burroughs is shown to be literate. 

While these possibilities are interesting, I would like to suggest that they may be based on a wrong assumption. The names we’ve explored have largely just been variations of Burroughs, Burrows, and Borrows. But when we look at the documents of Peanut’s two statements, neither of them put an “S” at the end of his name. He’s Joseph Burrough in the first one, and John Bohrar is the second. So, where is the ending S coming from? The answer, I think, is the trial transcript.

It was quite an undertaking to document the trial of the Lincoln conspirators. It was the duty of several court reporters to take down every word spoken in the courtroom by the commissioners, lawyers, and 347 unique witnesses. The court reporters listened to the words spoken in the trial room and took them down in shorthand. Between each session, the group would then painstakingly translate their notes into longhand and provide a transcript to the commissioners and lawyers the next day. They also provided copies to the newspapers for them to publish the trial, usually a day or two behind. As impressive as this system was, it wasn’t perfect. The shorthand process was done phonetically. Rather than taking down complete words or ideas, the different phonemes, or sounds, of words were taken down and then later transcribed. While this system worked well for much of the trial, one area where it caused mistakes was the spelling of names. When I completed my Trial Project a few years ago, completely documenting and summarizing the conspiracy trial into an easy-to-digest annotated form, the biggest bumps in the road were trying to determine the actual names and spelling of several witnesses. 

For example, two of the Ford’s Theatre employees, Jake Rittersbach and John Selecman, are given the names of Ritterspaugh and Sleichmann in the trial transcript. Dr. William Boarman is Dr. William “Bowman,” John Cantley is John “Cantlin,” and William Keilholtz is William “Keilotz,” just to name a few more.

Different versions of the trial transcript exist. Benn Pitman published the “official” version of the trial as a single-volume book. He did this by essentially rewriting witness testimony into long paragraphs of text rather than the actual question-and-answer format that occurred when the lawyers were asking their questions to each witness. Because so much of the original content was taken out to reduce the trial to a single volume, the Pitman version is the least reliable trial transcript. But it is also the most well-known and widely available version. In the Pitman version, Peanut John’s name is given as Joseph Burroughs (with an S). The prevalence of Pitman’s transcript is probably why we have come to accept Peanut’s name to be Joseph Burroughs. However, given the numerous naming mistakes that occurred during the trial, we should be cautious about trusting this spelling, especially given the fact that neither of Peanut’s two statements put an S at the end of his name.

You may be thinking, “So what? Burrough or Burroughs, how does that help us?” Well, the reason I’m going into this is that I think the S has thrown us off. We’ve been looking for a Burrough/Borrow-like name that ends with an S, actively discounting any options without it. But if we free ourselves from the assumption that Peanut’s name has to end with an S, then there is an option that we have overlooked. It’s a small variation of the name given on the second interview Peanut did with the authorities. Let’s explore the possibility that Peanut John’s last name was actually Bohrer.

Aside from Peanut’s second interview with authorities on April 24, another piece of evidence that contributes to the speculation that Peanut’s last name might have been Bohrer is an article that was published in the D.C. Evening Star newspaper in 1928. The article recounted how a 1865 police report book had recently been unearthed from “a mass of debris in the subbasement of the Municipal Building.” The book contained handwritten logs from the Metropolitan Police Force from the time of Lincoln’s assassination. It describes some of the items that the police force took possession of after the assassination, as well as a list of those who came into the station to make reports in the hours after Lincoln was shot. This logbook also documented the aforementioned arrest of Edman Spangler and the bringing in of “John Borer (or Burrough) known around the opera house as ‘Peanut John.’” While the name isn’t a perfect match, it is another period document showing a last name without an S that is tantalizingly close to Bohrer.

Bohrer is a German name and, phonetically speaking, is not that far removed from a reasonable pronunciation of Burrough. Given that the Bohrar and Burrough spellings were both used in recording Peanut’s statements, we know that the way he pronounced his name had elements of each. Bohrer is a unique last name, but not an unheard-of one in the Washington, D.C. area. Various Bohrers had lived in the region for many years. 

One of the Bohrers who lived in the area was named Benjamin Schenckmyer Bohrer. He was born in Montgomery County, Maryland, in 1788, but moved to the then-independent city of Georgetown (now a neighborhood of D.C.), where he attended school and became a doctor. Except for a few years when he acted as a medical professor at Ohio Medical College in Cincinnati, Dr. Bohrer spent most of his life caring for the residents of Georgetown. In 1835, Dr. Bohrer was called to examine Richard Lawrence, the house painter who had attempted to assassinate President Andrew Jackson. Dr. Bohrer testified that he felt that Lawrence was “totally deranged” on the subject of President Jackson. Partly due to testimony from Dr. Bohrer and other medical professionals, Lawrence was found not guilty by reason of insanity for his attempted attack on President Jackson. Lawrence was committed to various institutions, eventually making his way to the Government Hospital for the Insane, later renamed to St. Elizabeth’s Hospital. Dr. Bohrer had helped establish this hospital. Dr. Bohrer died in 1862 and his death was greatly lamented in Georgetown, where he had been celebrated for ministering to “three generations in many families in the ancient town.”

Dr. Bohrer and his wife, Eliza Virginia Loughborough, had six children. One of the Bohrer sons was Benjamin Rush Bohrer, born about 1823. In order to avoid confusion with his physician father, Benjamin Jr. often went by his middle name of Rush or by his initials B. R. Bohrer. For a few years, this younger Bohrer ran a livery in Georgetown, renting out horses, buggies, and carriages to his neighbors. In 1848, Rush married Margaret Loretta Sullivan, a Maryland native. The couple had three children together, two of whom were born in D.C. The youngest child was born in Ottumwa, Iowa, where the couple had relocated for unknown reasons. It appears that it was in Iowa that Rush and Margaret’s marriage ended. In 1856, Margaret remarried a widower named Rudolph Bollinger and not long after moved to Brown County, Kansas. In the 1860 Federal Census, Margaret and her three children by Rush are shown living with their mom and stepfather in Claytonville, Kansas. Rush Bohrer had returned to Georgetown and was residing with his father, the doctor, who died two years later.

You may wonder why I’ve chosen to share all of these details about these particular Bohrers. Well, it’s because of my own theory that Peanut John might actually be the middle child of Benjamin Rush Bohrer and Margaret Loretta Sullivan. His name was John Jeremiah Bohrer, and this is a picture of him as he would have appeared at about the time of Lincoln’s death.

John Jeremiah Bohrer was the middle child of Rush and Margaret Bohrer. He was born on October 17, 1849, in Washington, D.C. As noted, John’s parents split up when he was young, and he seemingly resided with his mother and stepfather in the years after his parents’ divorce. In September of 1865, John’s name can be found in the Kansas state census, residing with his mother, stepfather, younger brother, and stepsiblings in Brown County, Kansas. In 1875, John married Susan Blackburn in Eufaula, Indian Territory (now Oklahoma). Susan was a member of the Choctaw Nation, being 1/16 Choctaw according to records. John Bohrer had likely made his way from Kansas to Indian Territory via the newly consolidated Missouri, Kansas and Texas Railway. He and Susan made their residence in the Choctaw Nation. They had six children together. At some point, John changed the spelling of his last name to Bohreer. All of John and Susan’s children were given the last name of Bohreer. Susan died in 1903, leaving John a widower. Oklahoma became a state in 1907, and the former Choctaw land on which John Bohreer had lived since about 1874 became part of Pittsburg County. In 1909, John married Mary Lynch, a widow 25 years his junior. John and Mary had two children together.

For the vast majority of his adult life, John Jeremiah Bohreer worked as a farmer, residing within a mile and a half of the same tract of land in Pittsburg County, Oklahoma. When he died on May 8, 1922, at the age of 72, he was remembered as one of the pioneers in the region, “beloved and respected by all.”

Now, I want to reiterate that I’m merely speculating that John J. Bohre[e]r might have been Peanut John. Much like Michael Kauffman’s theory about Peanut John being the son of Dr. Joseph Borrows, or Steve Williams’ exploration of the Joseph A. Burroughs who lived in Tenlytown, I can’t prove it. And, like those other examples, my theory also has issues. Still, here’s my speculative case.

1. He’s around the right age

John Jeremiah Bohrer was born in October of 1849. This would have made him 15 years old at the time of Lincoln’s assassination. William Kent, the witness who swore to Peanut’s X on his first statement, later estimated that Peanut was about 17 years old when he interacted with him. Bohrer’s age puts him right in the sweet spot and would have made other boys like David Finney and Frank Drake his peers.

2. His parents were not together

On the statement where Peanut’s name is given as “John C. Bohrar” it states that he is “living with his father.” At the time of Lincoln’s assassination, John Bohrer’s parents were divorced and living in different states. His mother, Margaret Bollinger, resided in Kansas while his father, Benjamin Rush Bohrer, was living in Georgetown.

3. John Bohrer changed his last name

As noted, John changed the spelling of his last name from Bohrer to Bohreer (which changed the pronunciation from Buh-rur to Buh-rear). During my research, I had a conversation with John’s granddaughter. She and the rest of the family are not sure why John changed his last name. Could it have been to distance himself from the history associated with his prior last name?

4. John Bohreer was barely literate

In the first statement Peanut gave, he signed the document with an X, implying that the boy was unable to sign his own name. We took this as evidence that Peanuts was likely illiterate. In the years just before his wife Susan’s death, John Bohreer applied to become a member of the Choctaw Nation through marriage. He did this to ensure land rights for himself and his children. He was granted acceptance into the Choctaw Nation and received several land grants to increase his holdings. Several of the documents associated with his application and land grants are available to view on Ancestry. In these records, it’s clear that someone other than John Bohreer is filling out the paperwork. But Bohreer was required to sign the documents. Here are some examples of his signature:

Bohreer was only in his 50s at the time these documents were signed. The shaky and inconsistent lettering across the signatures implies that he struggled to write his own name. If Bohreer was Peanuts and had spent part of his teenage years working at a theater rather than getting an education, it would make sense that that was the best signature he could give in later life.

5. The real Peanut John vanished after the assassination

Thomas Bogar writes in his book Backstage at the Lincoln Assassination that, after finishing his testimony at the trial of the conspirators, Peanut John, “stepped out of the witness box and out of the pages of history.” The whole reason we are having this discussion is that whoever Peanut John was, he seemingly failed to ever discuss his brush with history after leaving the witness stand. One would think that, in the 160+ years since the death of Lincoln, someone somewhere would have come across a newspaper article in which the real Peanut John told his story. The lack of any such document or account implies that the real Peanut John didn’t want to talk about this event. While Peanut was innocent of knowing what John Wilkes Booth was planning, he still held the assassin’s horse, unknowingly assisting in his escape. According to William Kent’s recollection, when those around Ford’s Theatre learned what Peanuts had done, “the infuriated crowd pounced on the boy, and but for the fact that a police station was a block away he would have been lynched. There were many cries of ‘Hang him.’” Thus, the assassination was an exceedingly traumatic experience for this young man. If I were Peanuts, I would want to get as far away from the scene of the crime as possible, as soon as I could. How much farther away from the event could you get than later moving to the frontier, residing in Indian Territory, and changing your name?

It’s worth mentioning that one of the actors in “Our American Cousin” later commented on the fate of Peanut John. Actress Kate Evans had the small role of Sharpe, the maid, in the last production Lincoln saw. She later moved to Chicago and was interviewed about the tragic events of April 14, 1865, several decades later. In her dated memory, Evans erroneously claimed that “Both Spangler and Peanut John, following the trial of the conspirators, were sent to Dry Tortugas, but [were] subsequently pardoned.” Peanut John was never sent to Fort Jefferson like Edman Spangler.

Of course, there are still a few flaws in my speculation. As noted before, John Bohrer is documented as living in Kansas with his mother in the 1860 Federal Census and the September 1865 state census. This doesn’t preclude the idea that, during the Civil War years, John travelled back to D.C. to live with his father, but I don’t have any records to support this. Another issue is that the statement that says Peanuts was living with his father at the time of the assassination gives the address as “511 Tenth Street.” I have not been able to find a record that places Rush Bohrer at this address. In 1866, he was in the D.C. directory, still living in Georgetown. In 1865, 511 Tenth Street was the home of a woman named Louisa Brent, the widow of Thomas. What connection she may have, if any, with Peanuts or the Bohrers is unknown. In addition, we have the other records that give Peanut’s first name as Joseph, rather than John. I can’t explain that repeated discrepancy if John Jeremiah Bohrer is the real McCoy.

Still, I speculate that John Bohrer could have been Peanut John. Perhaps during the Civil War years, John went to live with his father, Rush Bohrer. Even if they started off in Georgetown, young John would have wanted to explore the capital city. There were horse-drawn buses that made transportation between the two adjacent communities easy and fast. Somehow, during his visits, John became involved in selling peanuts and other concessions at Ford’s Theatre. This eventually led to him taking on more significant roles around the theater, such as carrying playbills around the city and guarding the stage door during performances. Perhaps because of this new job, he lived away from Georgetown and found lodging further down Tenth Street. John eventually became acquainted with the actor John Wilkes Booth and helped care for the stable Edman Spangler had helped construct for him in the alley behind the theater. Then April 14, 1865, came, and John’s life changed forever. After nearly being lynched for holding the assassin’s horse, John provided two statements to the authorities. In May, he testified twice at the trial of the conspirators, answering questions about his former coworker, Edman Spangler. Once his testimony was given and he was free to go, John decided to leave town. He made his way back to his mother and stepfather in Kansas and was enumerated with them in the state census in September. In the 1870s, the now-adult John took the train south from Brown County to Indian Territory. He met a girl, married her, and set up a new life with a new last name on the frontier. He spent the rest of his life as a respected pioneer and settler in what would become Oklahoma, dying in 1922.

Even if John Jeremiah Bohreer isn’t our guy, I think researchers need to start branching beyond the traditional Burroughs/Borrows name when looking for Peanuts. The assumption that his last name must end with an ‘S’ comes from the unreliable trial transcript, whereas the two best sources we have omit an ‘S’ altogether. If we free ourselves from this constraint, who knows how many other folks with similar-sounding names we might be able to find and add to the old Peanut gallery.

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Will Research for Peanuts by Joe Barry

I’m so pleased to welcome another guest contributor to LincolnConspirators.com. The following piece was written by Joe Barry, a historical researcher currently working on a book about Joseph B. Stewart. On April 14, 1865, Stewart was seated in the front row of Ford’s Theatre, taking in the play. Stewart heard the sound of a gunshot and witnessed a man jump from the Presidential box to the stage below. While the rest of the audience remained frozen in their seats in confusion, Stewart was the first to take action. The D.C. lawyer, noted as one of the tallest men in Washington, climbed over the orchestra pit, onto the stage, and gave chase to the assassin. Joe Barry has spent the last few years uncovering many more interesting stories in the life of Joseph Stewart, a man he describes as the Forrest Gump of the 19th century. Having already previewed one of Joe’s chapters about the assassination, I’m very much looking forward to seeing the final product in the near future. You can learn more about Joe and his upcoming book by checking out his website JoeBarryAuthor.com. 


Will Research for Peanuts!

By Joe Barry

Joseph Burroughs holding John Wilkes Booth’s horse, from the May 13, 1865, Frank Leslie’s Illustrated

One of the more enigmatic figures of the Lincoln assassination is Joseph “John Peanuts” Burroughs, the young errand boy at Ford’s Theatre who held John Wilkes Booth’s horse prior to the assassin’s escape. Burroughs’s age is unknown, although estimates vary between fourteen to seventeen years old. In his statement to Justice Abram Olin on April 15, 1865, his name was dictated as Joseph Burrough. However, the conspiracy trial records also list Borroughs, Burrow, and John C. Bohraw—which are likely phonetic transcription errors. At the theater, he soon earned the nickname “John Peanuts” because he peddled peanuts in between acts. Some newspapers after the assassination even misreported “John Peanuts” as “Japanese.”[1]

Burroughs’s experience in the assassination was brief and traumatic. After Booth asked for the stagehand Edman “Ned” Spangler to hold his horse, Spangler begged off owing to his scene shifting duties, and the task fell to Burroughs. After approximately fifteen minutes, Booth burst through the back door into Baptist Alley and rewarded Burroughs’s loyalty by hitting him on the head with the butt of his knife and kicking him away from his horse. Across Peanut’s multiple pieces of testimony, he described handling horse-related duties for Booth over the previous few months, of working with Spangler in fixing the president’s box at Ford’s Theatre, and of Spangler cursing the president over the war.[2]

Throughout the years, a consensus emerged that Burroughs was Black and dull-witted. The best evidence indicates he was neither. Burroughs signed his second statement on April 24th with an “X”, which could suggest he was illiterate, but his testimony reveals he was intelligent, articulate, and well-versed with horses. The orchestra director, William Withers, and former police superintendent, Almarin C. Richards, both described him as Black, but these accounts were decades old. More conclusively, the trial transcripts for Burroughs lack the “(Colored)” description preceding his name in keeping with the discriminatory practice of the period. John F. Sleichmann, the assistant property manager at Ford’s Theatre, testified that Booth, Burroughs, and a few others shared drinks at the nearby saloon on the day of the assassination. Yet, Blacks were not allowed to sit down in such restaurants at this time, and an inveterate racist like Booth would not associate with a Black person. Nevertheless, contemporary newspaper illustrations depicted Burroughs as Black.[3]

Burroughs watching Joseph B. Stewart chase Booth, from the April 29, 1865 National Police Gazette

In American Brutus, Michael Kauffman theorizes Burroughs was the son of Doctor Joseph Borrows, III, a prominent physician in Washington, D.C. In his April 24th statement, Burroughs stated he was living with his father at 511 Tenth Street. Although this corresponds to the Ford’s Theatre address since at least 1948, prior to 1869, this address was south of Pennsylvania Avenue near the present-day block of 317-337 Tenth Street NW. The address for the Army Medical Museum in 1868 (housed within the theater building) was 454 Tenth Street. Notably, the city directory listed Dr. Borrows’s address as 396 E Street north, which abutted Baptist Alley behind Ford’s Theatre. The Borrows name and his close proximity to the theater make for a compelling connection—even if it does not illuminate Burroughs’s subsequent actions and movements.[4]

However, the Dr. Borrows theory has shortcomings. The reference to Peanuts living with his father implies the mother was absent. Yet, Dr. Borrows had a wife, Catherine, who outlived him. Further, the 1860 census for the Borrows household includes four females, but no son. Tragically, Catherine delivered a stillborn boy, Joseph, in 1850—a year after their five year-old daughter died. As author Susan Higginbotham has noted, a doctor’s son would be in school and not selling peanuts and running errands at a theater.[5]

Even still, Dr. Borrows’s obituary in 1889 provides a clue that may explain a potential connection with Peanuts. The doctor was an eminent physician who served for several years as president of the Medical Society of the District of Columbia. His obituary in the Evening Star notes: “There was probably no more popular physician or man in the District than Dr. Borrows, and hundreds of children were named for him in families he attended through, in some instances, four generations.” It is possible Burroughs received assistance from Dr. Borrows and perhaps even stayed at his residence in the same itinerant manner as at Ford’s Theatre. Similarly, Ned Spangler kept a boarding house for supper but mostly slept inside Ford’s Theatre.[6]

Dr. Joseph Borrows was a leading Washington, D.C physician, Daily National Intelligencer, January 9, 1861

Along similar lines of a father-figure role, Thomas Bogar, author of Backstage at the Lincoln Assassination, posited in Roger Norton’s Lincoln Discussion Symposium that Ford’s Theatre stage manager John Burroughs Wright might have semi-adopted Joseph Burroughs and gave his middle name as Peanut’s surname. In 1915, Wright’s wife, Annie, referred to Peanuts as “a simple minded but good natured street waif who worked all day and half the night about the stage.” The Wrights lived at the Herndon House on the corner of F and Ninth streets, only one block to the rear of the theater. (This is the same building Lewis Powell stayed at, and where Mary Surratt called on him.) If the Wrights did play the role of surrogate parents, it was not enough to keep Peanuts from roaming.[7]

Ford’s Theatre stage manager John Burroughs Wright and his wife, Annie

After the assassination, Burroughs was deterred from providing a statement to the police due to the mob accusing anyone entering or departing the police station of being a conspirator. Burroughs had to be especially cautious once it became known he had held Booth’s horse, and one eyewitness recalled a policeman escorting Peanuts into the station. No parental figure appeared on his behalf.[8]

More proof of Burroughs’s independent wanderings is found in Judge Advocate Henry L. Burnett’s May 9, 1865, letter to Colonel Lafayette C. Baker relaying Secretary of War Edwin Stanton’s order “that the boy Peanuts be placed in confinement in some comfortable place that he may be forthcoming when wanted.” Again, if Burroughs had the protection of his parents and a permanent roof over his head, he would have been readily available for questioning and not require government quarters. Regardless, Burroughs avoided any further statements or publicity after his conspiracy trial testimony.[9]

The key question in tracking down Peanuts is whether he stayed in Washington, D.C. or left the capital. To this end, researcher Steve Williams has found an intriguing lead on a Joseph Alexander Burroughs from the Tenleytown D.C. suburb and of the correct age to be Peanuts. This Joseph Burroughs was listed as a farmer, married Mary Elizabeth Burroughs in Washington, D.C. in 1873, and moved to Baltimore shortly thereafter. After settling in Baltimore, this Joseph is listed as a laborer —thereafter a produce seller—and favored the Burrows surname. Joseph and Mary had three daughters and two sons. Of note, he was definitely literate, and his son, Joseph Cornelius, readopted the Burroughs surname. Joseph Burrows died in Baltimore in 1931.[10]

Joseph Burrows of Baltimore from the 1880 Census. Could this be Peanuts?

If Peanuts is not this Joseph Burroughs from Tenleytown, then he likely departed Washington, D.C. before the 1870 census. Bogar correctly notes Burroughs and the other backstage employees had highly transferable skills to find jobs in any city. In the frequently shortened lifespans of the nineteenth century, it is also possible he died early. If Burroughs had a family, he bucked the trend of those associated with the assassination to have their (often highly exaggerated) exploits published in their obituaries. Given the trauma of being an unwitting accomplice to President Lincoln’s assassination, it is understandable if, for the remainder of his life, Burroughs simply wanted to be left alone.[11]

In the decades following the assassination, “Peanuts” resurfaced in random locations, including Washington, D.C., New York, and Massachusetts—but these sightings seem spurious. In 1887, a Louisiana newspaper mentioned Peanut John was living in Shreveport and was known as “Mixie.” In 1930, an elderly Black man appeared at a Washington, D.C. fire station and showed a scar on his head supposedly from Booth’s knife. A formerly enslaved man named Nathan Simms told a tall tale of being John Peanuts and actually helping Booth dismount outside of Surratt’s Tavern later that night. In 1960—twenty six years after Simms’s death—the Boy Scout Troop of Marshallton, Pennsylvania, raised money for a gravestone that told his story. In 1980, A. C. Richards’s biographer, Gary Planck, cited the naturalist John Burroughs as Peanuts.[12]

The most colorful Peanuts imposter was an unwilling participant: a diminutive street person of Italian descent named Joe “Coughdrop” Ratto who sold cough drops near Ford’s Theatre. Local residents taunted him mercilessly, asking if he had held Booth’s horse—which would throw him into a violent rage. Stories of Ratto emerged as early as 1909, and likely fed follow on narratives that John Peanuts was Italian. An imaginative account from 1923 claimed the Italian ambassador helped free him from prison after the assassination, in which Peanuts returned the favor by serving in the Italian Army.[13]

Joe “Coughdrop” Ratto, forever taunted as “John Peanuts”

It need not be highlighted each theory relating to Joseph “John Peanuts” Burroughs relies upon healthy doses of speculation. With multiple names, a single address, and a publicity-shy witness who faded into history, we have limited material to work with. Indeed, the renowned researcher James O. Hall assembled a file on Peanuts, and on the outside cover summarized his findings: “I was never able to trace the boy.” In the end, we are left with the same plea from the Surratt Courier in 1989: “Will the Real ‘Peanuts’ Burroughs Please Rise?!”[14]

Only ghosts remain: Baptist Alley in the years after the assassination


[1] The official record of the commission compiled by Benn Pitman lists the name as Joseph Burroughs. The conspiracy trial transcripts show multiple references to Peanut(s), John Peanut(s), and Peanut(s) John. Michael Kauffman also cites Bohrar and Burrus in American Brutus. “The Assassination,” Daily Illinois State Journal, April 22, 1865, p. 1.
[2] Peanuts stated he held the horse for fifteen minutes at the conspiracy trial, although this is different from his provided statements. Burroughs’s testimony at the conspiracy trial is found at Edward Steers, Jr., ed., The Trial: The Assassination of President Lincoln and the Trial of the Conspirators (Lexington, Kentucky, 2003), 187-95, 465-66; William C. Edwards and Edward Steers, eds., The Lincoln Assassination: The Evidence, (Champaign, Illinois, 2009), 238;
[3] William J. Ferguson’s 1930 memoir I Saw Booth Shoot Lincoln refers to Peanuts as “dull-witted.” Joan L. Chaconas, “Will the Real ‘Peanuts’ Burroughs Please Rise?!” Surratt Courier (June, 1989), 1, 3-7; “Wilkes Booth Again,” Critic (Washington, D.C.), April 17, 1885, p. 1.
[4] Washington, D.C. addresses changed to a new format in 1869. William H. Boyd, Boyd’s Washington and Georgetown Directory, 1868 (Washington, D.C., 1868), 40; Edwards, Steers, The Lincoln Assassination, 463; Andrew Boyd, Boyd’s Washington and Georgetown Directory, 1865 (Washington, D.C., 1865), 142.
[5] “More on the Elusive Peanuts,” Surratt Courier (September, 2014), 11; 1870 US Census, Washington, D.C., Ward 3, family 220; “Dr. Joseph Borrows,” Find A Grave, https://www.findagrave.com/memorial/140486080/joseph-borrows.
[6] Emphasis added. The Ned Spangler information is from Jacob Ritterspaugh’s testimony. “Dr. Joseph Borrows Dead,” Evening Star, May 31, 1889, p. 3; Steers, The Trial, 394.
[7] The thread for this theory is found at: https://rogerjnorton.com/LincolnDiscussionSymposium/thread-1802.html. “She Saw Lincoln Shot,” Boston Globe, April 11, 1915, p. 66; Thomas A. Bogar, Backstage at the Lincoln Assassination: The Untold Story of the Actors and Stagehands at Ford’s Theatre (Washington, D.C., 2013), 88; Trial of John H. Surratt in the Criminal Court for District of Columbia, Hon. George P. Fisher Presiding, (2 vols., Washington, D.C., 1867) I, 235; Louis J. Weichmann, A True History of the Assassination of Abraham Lincoln and the Conspiracy of 1865 (New York, 1977), 121-22.
[8] “Lincoln’s Assassination,” St. Louis Globe-Democrat, Dec. 3, 1891, p. 12.
[9] Edwards, Steers, The Lincoln Assassination, 259-60.
[10] Substantial documentation for this potential Burroughs is in the same above Lincoln Discussion Symposium link.
[11] Bogar, Backstage at the Lincoln Assassination, 276.
[12] Chaconas, “Will the Real ‘Peanuts’ Burroughs Please Rise?!” Opelousas Courier (Opelousas, Louisiana), April 2, 1887, p. 1; Peanuts Folder, James O. Hall Research Center, Clinton, Maryland; Edward Steers, Jr., Lincoln Legends: Myths, Hoaxes, and Confabulations Associated with our Greatest President (Lexington, Kentucky, 2007), 319-22; Gary R. Planck, “The Lincoln Assassination: The ‘Forgotten’ Investigation, A. C. Richards, Superintendent of the Metropolitan Police,” Lincoln Herald, 82 (Winter 1980), 526.
[13] A. C. Richards later referred to Burroughs as Italian in 1906, likely stemming from the Joe Ratto lore. “Did ‘Coughdrop Joe’ Ratto Hold Booth’s Horse?” Lincoln Lore, 1571 (January, 1969), 2-3; “People Met in Hotel Lobbies,” Washington Post, Jul. 14, 1909, p. 6; C. W. S. Wilgus, “The Lincoln Tragedy,” Ravena Republican (Ravena, Ohio), April 19, 1906; “Brooklyn Man was in Theater Night Lincoln Was Shot,” Brooklyn Eagle, Feb. 11, 1923, p. 36.
[14] “Peanuts” folder, James O. Hall Research Center; Chaconas, “Will the Real ‘Peanuts’ Burroughs Please Rise?!”

Categories: History, Joe Barry | Tags: , , , | 4 Comments

An Edman Spangler Anniversary

Today, February 7, 2025, is the 150th anniversary of the death of Edman Spangler. A carpenter and stagehand at Ford’s Theatre, Spangler was convicted of being a conspirator in John Wilkes Booth’s plot against Abraham Lincoln. Sentenced to six years of imprisonment at Fort Jefferson in the Dry Tortugas, Spangler was pardoned by President Andrew Johnson in 1869. After returning home, Spangler returned to working for John T. Ford at his theater in Baltimore. However, a fire gutted the Holliday Street Theater in 1873, leaving Spangler out of a job. He ended up traveling down to Charles County, Maryland, to the home of his former cellmate, Dr. Samuel Mudd. Though the two men had never met each other prior to their arrest and trial, they had bonded during their years together at Fort Jefferson. Dr. Mudd welcomed Spangler into his home with open arms and even gave him some acreage on the farm property for Spangler to work and live on. Spangler died at the age of 49 after contracting an illness in a heavy and cold rain. The Mudd family had their friend buried in a local cemetery, the original St. Peter’s Church Cemetery, which also held the grave of Mrs. Mudd’s father.

Of the nine Lincoln conspirators that were tried in 1865 and 1867, Edman Spangler is the one for which there is the least amount of evidence connecting him to the assassination. Spangler was mostly in the wrong place at the wrong time and was also unfortunate enough to be friendly with the wrong person: John Wilkes Booth. Upon arriving at the backstage door of Ford’s Theatre, Booth called for Spangler to hold his horse. Spangler quickly delegated the task to a less critical Ford’s Theatre employee before returning to his duties shifting scenes. After the shot rang out and the assassin ran out the backstage door, a confused Spangler was unsure what had occurred. When another stagehand suggested that it was Booth who had committed the crime, Spangler cautioned the man not to jump to conclusions or say anything that might slander an innocent man. When it was later firmly established that his friend, Booth, had committed the terrible deed, his words and actions came to be seen as conspiratorial. Investigators felt that Booth must have had an “inside man” at Ford’s Theatre in order to ensure his success, and so Spangler became that man in their eyes.

In reality, there is no conclusive evidence that Spangler knew anything of Booth’s plot against Lincoln. The two men were friendly and had a history dating back to when Spangler helped to construct the Booth family home of Tudor Hall in Bel Air. Spangler assisted Booth by constructing a stable for him in the alley behind the theater, and he was certainly pro-Confederate in his leanings. However, there is no strong evidence that Booth entrusted Spangler with the details of his plot. Instead, it appears that Booth felt bad for the trouble his actions brought to Spangler. After Booth was killed on April 26, 1865, his accomplice David Herold was taken into custody and transported up to Washington. During his integration by the authorities, Herold stated that Booth had told him during their escape that “There was a man at the theatre that held his horse that he was quite sorry for.” While Herold didn’t recall his name at the time, he recounted that “Booth said it [i.e. the act of holding the horse] might get him [Spangler] into difficulty.”

That act did, indeed, get Spangler into difficulty. Yet even the term of his jail sentence of six years demonstrates how poor the evidence was in trying to connect Spangler to the plot. All of the other conspirators tried alongside him were sentenced to death or life in prison, making Spangler’s punishment a “slap on the wrist” by comparison. However, as my recent documentary series on The Lincoln Conspirators at Fort Jefferson shows, life was incredibly difficult for Spangler and the other men sentenced to the Dry Tortugas.

In memory of the innocent Lincoln conspirator on the 150th anniversary of his death, here are three letters Edman Spangler wrote from prison during the time when Yellow Fever struck the fort. They were written to unknown friends of Spangler’s in Baltimore and then published in the newspapers. From other writing samples of Spangler’s, we know that he struggled with spelling and grammar. However, these three letters contain relatively few mistakes, implying that he may have been assisted in their writing by his cellmates or that perhaps his letters were cleaned up by the newspaper editors. Regardless, they give a brief peek into the life of Edman Spangler during the most terrifying portion of his imprisonment.


Fort Jefferson, Fla

Sept. 6, 1867

I am well at present, but don’t know how long it will last, for we have the yellow fever here, and there are two or three dying every day, and I am busy working in the carpenter’s shop, making coffins day and night, and I don’t know when my time will come. They don’t last more than a few hours. I will enclose a few moss pictures for you, and I will send you a barrel of coral, if I don’t get the yellow fever and die; but there are ten chances to one if I ever see you again. It is very desperate here. The doctor of the post is very sick with it, and there is no doctor here but Dr. Mudd, and he volunteered his services, and has made a good hit of it. We have lost no cases with him yet.

With love all,

Edman Spangler


Fort Jefferson, Florida

September 23, 1867

I have received the barrel of potatoes and am very thankful for them. We have drawn but a half bushel of potatoes from the government since the first of January. We have bought some at Key West, for which we paid seven and eight dollars per barrel. There are some seven of us in one mess; we do not eat with the other prisoners. We have the yellow fever here very bad. We had a doctor that came from Washington: he got it and died: his name was J. Sims Smith. He has a wife and two children. Dr. Mudd was in charge for a few days, and was very successful, and then they got a doctor from Key West; but Dr. Mudd is still in the hospital attending to the sick, and I am in the carpenter shop making coffins for those that die. While I am writing they have burned all the beds that belonged to every one that got sick, and all their clothing. We have a dreadful time of it here. There is no use of getting frightened at it; we must stand up and face the music.

Since writing the above, one of Dr. Smith’s children has died, Lieutenants Solam and Ohr, Major Stone’s wife and Michael O’Laughlin.


Fort Jefferson, Florida

Sept. 24

Poor Michael O’Laughlin, my friend and room-mate died at 7 o’clock yesterday of yellow fever, and during the 24 hours, seven others passed from life to eternity. The fever has assumed a more malignant type. There is but one officer for duty at the post, the others having died or now lying ill with the fever. Lieut. Gordon, taken two days ago, is now lying in a critical condition. From all I can learn, we have had 280 cases, out of which so far thirty have died. Some are even taken with it the second time, and from appearances, and from what the Doctor says, we shall always have it here – the thermometer never falling below 63 degrees. I have not been attacked yet, but may be at any moment, in which case I thought it best to forward to you and my family small mementoes, should I die of the fever. Arnold has had it, and has fully recovered, yet remains in a very weak condition. Something should be done, if possible, towards obtaining our removal from this den of pestilence and death to some more healthy place. Nearly all the late cases are of a very malignant type, scarcely any recovering.


Sources:
“Letter from Spangler,” New York Times, September 22, 1867, 3.
“Letters from the Dry Tortugas,” Baltimore Sun, October 11, 1867, 1.

Categories: History, The Lincoln Conspirators at Fort Jefferson | Tags: , , , , , , | 4 Comments

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