Posts Tagged With: John Wilkes Booth

“Back There” with The Twilight Zone

Last month, I published a post containing an episode of The Twilight Zone Podcast in which the host, Tom Elliot, included two radio shows based on the concept of time travel and the assassination of Abraham Lincoln. That podcast episode was a prelude to Tom’s regular review of “Back There,” an episode of The Twilight Zone, which deals with the very same topic. I very much enjoyed listening to both of Tom’s podcasts, and they inspired me to do my own analysis of one of my favorite episodes of this iconic series. What follows is an exploration of “Back There,” containing an overview of the episode, biographies of the actors who took part in it, a look into the production and editing, some trivia, and a discussion of some other adaptations of this unique Lincoln assassination-related show. While the following post isn’t quite as “vast as space, or as timeless as infinity,” it is still quite a deep dive. If you’re ready for such an adventure into the fifth dimension, then read on as we travel “Back There” with The Twilight Zone.

Contents


Episode Overview

“You’re traveling through another dimension. A dimension not only of sight and sound, but of mind. A journey into a wondrous land whose boundaries are that of imagination. That’s the signpost up ahead. Your next stop, The Twilight Zone.”

The episode opens with an establishing shot of a building bearing the sign “The Potomac Club. Established 1858.” We fade to the interior of the club and find it to be a traditional gentlemen’s club in the year 1961. The decor is ornate, with various sculptures and paintings throughout the room. There are several seated men around the periphery of the room reading newspapers and playing chess. The club attendants dutifully move around the room, serving drinks to the members. Near the center of the drawing room is a round table with four men seated around it playing cards.

The camera pushes in on these men, and we begin to overhear their conversation. One of the members at the table named Millard has espoused his belief that if someone had the ability to travel back in time, nothing would stop them from changing the past. Specifically, Millard suggests traveling to the day before the stock market crash of 1929 and taking action to prevent financial disaster. A younger member of the group named Peter Corrigan is skeptical of the idea, noting he would be an anachronism in the past and that he really wouldn’t belong back there. He comes to the conclusion that an event like the stock market crash of 1929 is a fixed event in history that couldn’t be altered. Millard disagrees and continues explaining what actions he would take if he were to travel to 1929. The camera then pans over to reveal that one of the seated gentlemen reading a newspaper is none other than Rod Serling. He then gives the show’s opening narration:

“Witness a theoretical argument, Washington, D.C., the present. Four intelligent men talking about an improbable thing like going back in time. A friendly debate revolving around a simple issue, could a human being change what has happened before? Interesting and theoretical because who ever heard of a man going back in time? Before tonight, that is. Because, this is, the Twilight Zone.”

When we fade back in, Corrigan tells the group that he is going to retire for the evening, noting that he will leave the subject of time travel to the likes of H. G. Wells. Whitaker, one of the card players, bids him goodnight by joking, “Don’t get lost back in time, now, Corrigan.” After Corrigan bids farewell to the other gentlemen, he exits into the foyer of the Potomac Club. On a side table rests a bust of Abraham Lincoln. Corrigan turns and glances at the Lincoln bust. At the same time, one of the club’s attendants, William, is carrying a plate with a teacup of coffee. With Corrigan focusing on the Lincoln bust and William on the cup, the two men accidentally collide, causing William to spill the coffee over them both.

William is very apologetic and attempts to clean off Corrigan’s suit jacket with a handkerchief. Corrigan understands it’s an accident and takes it in stride. William offers to get Corrigan’s coat, but Corrigan states that he was rushing the season and came out without one. Through their conversation, we learn that the date is April 14, 1961.

After bidding William a good night, Peter Corrigan steps out of the door of the Potomac Club. Then, a strange sensation comes over him. The camera blurs and comes back into focus as Corrigan checks his watch. The camera blurs again, and Corrigan reaches for his head.

After the second blur effect on Corrigan, the camera pans over to a light on the club’s stair landing. Before our eyes, the light changes from an electric bulb to a gas-powered flame.

When the camera pans back to Corrigan, his outfit has changed to a more Victorian style and his watch has disappeared off his wrist. He is confused by these changes, turns, and knocks on the door of the club he just exited. After a beat, Corrigan turns around and tells himself to go home. He slowly walks down the steps of the Potomac Club landing and notices other changes have occurred. On the street are horse-drawn wagons. All of the pedestrians are also dressed in Victorian garb, with the men wearing top hats. He rushes across the street and walks to his home, but the building now has a sign in front that says “Rooms to Let.” Finding the door locked, he knocks on the door. It is answered by a woman named Mrs. Landers. Corrigan looks around the inside of the house, thinking he has come to the wrong address.

Looking at the period decor in the building that was once his home, Corrigan starts to realize that something is greatly amiss. He asks Mrs. Landers if she has a room in which he can stay. She replies that she does, but only for acceptable boarders. She proceeds to ask Corrigan a series of questions, including inquiring if he is an army veteran. This comes as a bit of a non-sequitur to Corrigan, but he still replies in the affirmative. When he tells Mrs. Landers that he is an engineer, her demeanor completely changes at the thought of a “professional man” lodging in her home. She begins to offer Corrigan a room upstairs when they are interrupted by a couple coming down who greet Mrs. Landers. The elegantly dressed woman confirms that she and her husband, a soldier in a Union officer’s uniform, are having dinner at Willard’s and are then “off to the play.”

Mrs. Landers tells the couple to have a good time and to “applaud the President for me.” She then starts up the stairs with Corrigan in the lead. After a few steps, however, Corrigan abruptly turns and asks Mrs. Landers what she just said. Mrs. Landers is confused, so Corrigan heads back down the stairs and asks the officer to repeat what Mrs. Landers said about the President. The officer repeats the comment but is now suspicious. He asks Corrigan where his sympathies lie and Mrs. Landers inquires which army he was in. Corrigan begins to answer but pauses to take in the officer’s uniform. He eventually states he was in “The Army of the Republic, of course.” The soldier then rhetorically asks why Corrigan would make a big deal about applauding President Lincoln.

Finally, Corrigan appears to understand what has happened. He has somehow traveled back in time to a point during the Civil War. Corrigan starts putting it all together. This couple is going to a play tonight, and Abraham Lincoln will be there. Corrigan asks what theater and what play. The couple replies that the venue is Ford’s Theatre and the play is Our American Cousin. We can practically see Corrigan accessing his memory of historical events as he slowly realizes the significance of what he’s being told. He asks about the date, but he already knows the answer. He moves to exit the house, announcing, “It is April 14, 1865.”

Through some mysterious and unknown means Peter Corrigan has traveled back in time to the night of Lincoln’s assassination. Armed with the knowledge of what is to come, he is now on a mission to stop this national tragedy from occurring.

As the dramatic music swells, we cut to Baptist Alley behind Ford’s Theatre. Corrigan rushes past posted theater broadsides and makes his way to the nicely labeled “Stage Door.” Finding the door locked, he proceeds to bang on the door. He yells repeatedly to be let in and says, “The President is going to be shot tonight!”

The scene then dissolves into the interior of a metropolitan police station. Corrigan is led into the room by a patrolman and is stood before a police sergeant behind a desk. Corrigan is nursing a wound on his forehead. When the sergeant asks what Corrigan is in for, the patrolman recounts how he was trying to pound down the door at Ford’s Theatre while shouting nonsense about how the President was going to be shot. The patrolman states that the doorman at Ford’s Theatre had “popped him on the head” for his mania. Corrigan repeats to the sergeant that Lincoln is going to be shot tonight and that a man named Booth is going to do it. When the sergeant asks how Corrigan knows the President is going to be shot, Corrigan demurs, saying that if he told the sergeant how he knows, they would never believe him. Convinced that Corrigan is drunk, the police sergeant orders him to be locked up so that he can sleep it off. As he is dragged to a backroom that contains cells, Corrigan begs the police to put an extra guard on the President and yells out to everyone in the station that Lincoln will be shot by a man named John Wilkes Booth.

Right after Corrigan exits, an elegantly dressed man enters the station. He approaches the police sergeant and introduces himself as Jonathan Wellington. He inquires about Corrigan and suggests to the sergeant that the man may not be drunk but mentally ill. He asks the sergeant if Corrigan could be remanded into his custody as he would hate to see a possible war veteran placed in jail. Wellington assures the sergeant that he would be perfectly responsible for Corrigan and that he might be able to help him. The sergeant agrees and asks Corrigan to be sent out while Mr. Wellington waits outside.

Before the prisoner is released, one of the other patrolmen who had been present for the whole affair and heard Corrigan’s protestations, approaches the sergeant. He humbly suggests that perhaps something should be done in regard to Lincoln. The sergeant on duty dismisses the idea of sending police over to Ford’s Theatre on the word of some crackpot who likely lost his mind at Gettysburg.

The patrolman continues to advocate for sending a special guard to Ford’s Theatre, drawing the ire of the sergeant, who recounts to him that Lincoln has the whole federal army at his disposal and if they are satisfied with his protection, he should be too. The patrolman watches as Corrigan is brought out from the back room and exits out the door to a waiting Wellington.

The scene then changes to the interior of Mr. Wellington’s room, where Corrigan’s benefactor pours the time traveler a glass of wine. Corrigan drinks it down, thanking Wellington for the courtesy. Corrigan then asks Wellington about himself. Wellington states that he is in the government service, and as a young man in college, he dabbled in medicine of the mind. He asks Corrigan how he came to believe that the President was to be shot that night. Again, Corrigan demurs, saying that if he told him the truth of how he knows, Wellington would surely believe him to be insane. Corrigan begs Wellington to help him prevent the assassination by reiterating that a man named John Wilkes Booth will commit the act.

In the midst of their conversation, Corrigan becomes light-headed. Wellington notes that his head wound hasn’t been treated properly and that Corrigan had best cover it. Wellington hands over his handkerchief to Corrigan, who holds it against his head. Corrigan proceeds to sit and explains how faint and strange he suddenly feels. After a beat, Corrigan looks at the wine on the table and draws the conclusion that Wellington has drugged him. He gets to his feet and grabs Wellington by the collar, but in his weakened state, he is barely holding on.

Wellington tells Corrigan that he had to drug him for he was a very sick man who needed sleep and rest in order to regain his composure and reason. He lets Corrigan down slowly to the sofa below and encourages him to rest. Wellington announces he will be back soon. Corrigan, struggling against the effects of the sedative, begs Wellington to believe him that Lincoln will be shot. Before exiting the room, Wellington replies, “And that’s odd…because I’m beginning to believe you.”

With that, Mr. Wellington bids good night to Corrigan, telling him to rest well. Corrigan then passes out on the sofa, and Wellington makes his exit.

The next shot shows the stage of Ford’s Theatre. A lively audience is laughing and clapping along to the actors performing Our American Cousin. We then get a side view of the audience and stage, with the passageway leading up to the door of the President’s box in full view.

The Ford’s Theatre footage only lasts for a few seconds before we go return to Corrigan in Mr. Wellington’s room. Corrigan attempts to rouse himself off the sofa but only succeeds in falling to the floor near the fireplace. He pulls himself around the floor, attempting to get himself into a chair, but knocks it over instead. He flails and knocks away the empty glass on the table from which he had drank the drugged concoction. He crawls to the door and manages to get a hold of the knob, but it is locked, and he is unable to open the door. He calls for somebody to let him out before falling back down. Right before he passes out again, Corrigan states, “I know…I know…our President’s going to be assassinated.”

Sometime later, we hear a female voice on the other side of the door telling an officer that she has a key. The door unlocks, and in comes a chambermaid and the same patrolman who had suggested sending an extra guard to Ford’s Theatre. The patrolman wakes Corrigan and asks him what’s happened before admitting that, madman or not, Corrigan has convinced him that Lincoln is in danger. The patrolman recounts how he had been all over the city trying to get an extra guard for the President to no avail. Corrigan tells the patrolman to go to the theater himself if that’s what it takes.

The patrolman helps Corrigan back to the sofa, and Corrigan recalls how Lincoln was shot from behind and the assassin jumped from the box to the stage and out into the wings. The patrolman says, “You’re telling me this as though it’s already happened.” Corrigan, desperate to stop the tragedy and no longer worried if this man will think him crazy, replies, “It has happened. It happened a hundred years ago, and I’m here to see that it doesn’t happen.” Corrigan then asks the chambermaid where Wellington is. The chambermaid replies that there is no one here by that name. Corrigan dismisses this remark and insists on the location of Wellington, the man who brought him there and lives in this room. The chambermaid replies again that no one named Wellington resides in this place. Exasperated, Corrigan raises his fist to shake it at the chambermaid when he sees he is still holding the handkerchief Wellington gave him. He opens up the handkerchief to reveal the stitched initials “JWB.”

The chambermaid confirms that Mr. John Wilkes Booth lives in this room and he was the man who brought Corrigan there. The realization comes to Corrigan that Booth lied about his name and had drugged him to prevent Corrigan from interfering with the assassination. With a bubbling anger, Corrigan gets to his feet and tells the patrolman that he has to get to Ford’s Theatre and stop it all.

However, just then, voices are heard from the street outside. Mournful voices proclaim that “The President’s been shot” and that “an actor shot Lincoln.” We cut to a gathered crowd mumbling over the news. Back inside the room, the occupants fall into a state of grief and shock. The chambermaid weeps into her hands. Corrigan collapses dejectedly back down onto the sofa. The patrolman removes his hat and mutters to himself, “You did know. Oh, my dear God,” before he and the chambermaid leave the room. A defeated Corrigan stands and walks to the window of the room. With righteous anger, he proclaims, “I tried to tell you. I tried to warn you. Why didn’t you listen?” He repeats his rhetorical cry, “Why didn’t you listen to me?” while banging on the window. Then suddenly, the shot shows Corrigan, back in his 1961 garb, banging on the door of the Potomac Club instead.

An older attendant opens the door of the club, and Corrigan rushes in. The attendant asks Corrigan if he has forgotten something, as he had only left a moment ago. Corrigan is confused by this remark and then asks the attendant for William, the attendant who had seen him out. The older attendant is perplexed and tells Corrigan that there are no attendants named William on duty at the club. Corrigan heads back into the drawing room, but not before taking a sad glance at the bust of Abraham Lincoln on the table.

The drawing room of the club is just like before, with Corrigan’s friends still seated around the card table. They make a remark about Corrigan being back so soon and invite him to join them, though his original seat is now occupied by a new fourth. Corrigan shakily says they had been talking about time travel, to which another member of the group, Jackson, says they are on a new tack now, “Money, and the best ways to acquire it.” Corrigan begins to address the group, noting that he has something important to say. However, before telling his friends about his trip into the past, he loses his nerve. Corrigan touches his head, implying that he now believes everything he has experienced has been in his mind. His friends ask him if he is alright, and Corrigan replies in the affirmative.

The group again invites Corrigan to pull up a chair and join the conversation about amassing a fortune. Jackson points out that William, the new fourth card player, has the best method. The camera focuses on William, and we see it is the same man who spilled coffee on Corrigan at the beginning of the episode, except now he is richly dressed and smoking a cigarette.

A gobsmacked Corrigan listens as this elegant and well-spoken William explains that the best way to amass a fortune is to inherit it. William discusses how his great-grandfather had been on the Washington police force on the night of Lincoln’s assassination and that he had gone around trying to warn people that something bad might occur. The details of how William’s great-grandfather knew something tragic might happen is not known, but the publicity surrounding his attempt to get extra security for Lincoln that night made him a known figure in Washington. He eventually became chief of police and a D.C. councilman before amassing a fortune in real estate. William’s wealth came to him in a beribboned box, courtesy of his notable great-grandfather.

Having previously written off his trip into the past as a hallucination of some sort, Corrigan is still shocked to find the much-changed William. He asks William questions like, “Didn’t you used to work here as an attendant? Didn’t you spill coffee on me?” These questions draw strange looks from all the men at the card table. William puts Corrigan in his place, telling Corrigan that he was a member of the club while Corrigan was still in prep school. He also snobbishly laughs off the notion that he would have ever been an attendant.

Now unsure of what he experienced, Corrigan tries to make sense of it all. He decides to return to the group’s prior conversation on time travel and announces that, “Some things can be changed. Others can’t.” The group returns to their card game as Corrigan walks away, still processing everything that has occurred. The men at the table remark how strangely Corrigan is acting and that he looks unwell. The camera stays on Corrigan as he pulls a handkerchief from his pocket to wipe his brow. Looking down at the handkerchief, Peter Corrigan sees the now familiar stitched initials, “JWB.”

As a shocked and confused Corrigan walks out of the drawing room with his historic handkerchief in hand, Rod Serling’s voice provides the closing narration.

“Mr. Peter Corrigan, lately returned from a place “back there.” A journey into time with highly questionable results. Proving, on one hand, that the threads of history are woven tightly and the skein of events cannot be undone. But, on the other hand, there are small fragments of the tapestry that can be altered. Tonight’s thesis to be taken as you will, in the Twilight Zone.”


The Players

Let’s take a look at the actors and actresses who make up this episode:

  • Russell Johnson as Peter Corrigan

The protagonist of this piece is played by Russell Johnson. He was 35 years old when this episode was filmed. While not an army man like the character he portrayed, Johnson was a veteran, having served in the U.S. Air Force during WWII. A lifelong actor in both film and television, Johnson is best remembered for his role as “The Professor” Roy Hinkley in the syndicated TV show Gilligan’s Island. He also appeared in a number of Westerns and B-movies in his early career. Fellow fans of the show Mystery Science Theater 3000 will likely recognize Johnson for his supporting role in the 1955 film This Island Earth, which was lampooned in the 1996 movie version of MST3K. “Back There” was Johnson’s second of two appearances on The Twilight Zone. On March 31, 1960, he appeared in the first season episode entitled “Execution.” In that show, Johnson played a professor named George Manion, who had invented a time machine. He reaches back in time to 1880 and plucks out a man from the past and brings him to the present. Unbeknownst to the professor, the man from the past is a convicted murderer who was pulled through time just as he was to be executed for his crime. With fresh rope burns on his neck from the hangman’s noose that hadn’t quite finished the job, the murderer from the past eventually attacks and kills Johnson’s character before rushing out into a very modern and confusing world. In an interview he gave later in his life, Johnson fondly recalled his time in the “Back There”:

“That was a terrific story. It was interesting and it was a unique take on the time travel theme. I really enjoyed filming it, too. It was a period piece and I’m not a fellow who enjoys putting on false hair and beards and all of that, but thank God I didn’t have to  do that in this one. This was just costumes, and costumes are no hassle at all… I’m grateful for having had the opportunity to be in two Twilight Zones. I’m very proud of them and love to see them every time they have a marathon.”

Russell Johnson died in 2014 at the age of 89.

  • John Lasell as Jonathan Wellington/John Wilkes Booth

Fellow Lincoln assassination researcher Richard Sloan once interviewed John Lasell regarding his role in “Back There.” The actor told Richard that he was incredibly nervous filming the show, as The Twilight Zone was his first film role. His credits seem to bear this out as only a likely live production for the Armstrong Circle Theatre in March of 1960 predates the recording of “Back There.” Lasell had a background in live theater and was 32 during the filming of this episode. He worked pretty consistently from the 1960s through the mid-1970s in supporting television roles. His only recurring role was that of vampire hunter Dr. Peter Guthrie in the cult soap opera series Dark Shadows from 1966 – 1971. From 1964 to 1974, Lasell was married to actress Patricia Smith, another Twilight Zone performer. Smith appeared in the second season episode “Long Distance Call,” which was filmed three months after “Back There.” In that episode, a young boy, played by child actor Billy Mumy, is able to communicate with his dead grandmother over a toy telephone, and the grandmother tries to convince the boy to join her in death. Smith plays the mother of Mumy’s character in one of the most audacious episodes of the series. John Lasell’s last acting credit was in 1985. Like his co-star, Lasell had good memories of being on The Twilight Zone, telling an interviewer:

“I came out from New York in 1960 or so and ‘Back There’ was my first piece of film. Not the first to air, but the first one I shot out in California. I was always very fond of it. I was lucky to get the part and they were very nice people there, they really knew how to work with a young actor. But I can’t stand to look at it today. I was so uptight in my performance!”

The main catalyst of this post was the news that John Lasell just passed away on Oct. 4, 2024, at the age of 95.

  • Bartlett Robinson as William

Bartlett Robinson started his career as a stage and radio performer. He was the first person to voice the character of lawyer Perry Mason when the radio series debuted in 1943. His first screen credit occurred in 1949 during the first season of an anthology series sponsored by the Ford Motor Company called, somewhat ironically, the “Ford Theatre.” Robinson worked consistently in television for the rest of his career, often playing characters of authority. He made two appearances on The Twilight Zone. His second appearance occurs in one of the most famous episodes of the series, “To Serve Man.” In that episode, Robinson plays the army Colonel who tasks the main character with deciphering the book that the alien Kanamits have left behind. One of Robinson’s final roles was in the 1974 miniseries Lincoln, which starred Hal Holbrook as the 16th President. Robinson appears briefly as a “bewhiskered Senator.” Bartlett Robinson died in 1986 at the age of 73.

  • Paul Hartman as the Police Sergeant

The child of two vaudeville actors, Paul Hartman took to the stage at an early age. He was a notable dancer and comedian who performed on Broadway with his wife, Grace Hartman, and had a few early roles in movie musicals. In 1948, he and Grace both won Best Actor and Actress Tony Awards for their performances in their own musical revue show “Angel in the Wings.” In the 1950s, Hartman exchanged the hectic life of live theater for television. He moved to Los Angeles and made a living as a character actor. He is most likely remembered for his regular role of Emmett Clark, the fix-it shop owner on the final season of The Andy Griffith Show and its spin-off, Mayberry, RFD. Hartman died in 1973 at the age of 69.

  • James Lydon as the Patrolman

James was known as “Jimmy” Lydon from his early days playing child and adolescent characters. This included a series of nine films from 1941 – 1944 where a late teenage Lydon played the lead role of Henry Aldrich, a popular radio character. The following decade was filled with many young man roles for Lydon. By the 1960s, Lydon continued to act while also working in television production. His last acting credits were a handful of guest spots in the 1980s. James Lydon died in 2022 at the age of 98.

  • Jean Inness as Mrs. Landers

From 1920 until 1942, Jean Inness was exclusively a stage actress. She was a member of multiple touring companies that traveled around the country. In 1942, at the age of 41, Inness made her first film appearance. In 1952, she started a television career in which she played supporting roles like Mrs. Landers in “Back There.” Her only recurring role was that of Nurse Beatrice Fain in the medical drama Dr. Kildare, which aired from 1961 to 1966. Inness appeared in 37 of the show’s 191 episodes. Jean Inness died in 1978 at the age of 78.

  • Lew Brown as the Lieutenant

Lew Brown was an Oklahoma native who served as a Marine corporal in WWII. After the war, he taught English literature in Missouri before moving to New York to pursue an acting career on the stage. He eventually relocated to California and made his television debut in 1959 as a soldier in an episode of Playhouse 90. “Back There” was Brown’s first of three appearances on The Twilight Zone. He had a small role as a fireman in “Long Distance Call,” the same episode that featured John Lasell’s future wife, Patricia Smith. He also appeared in the fifth season episode, “The 7th is Made Up of Phantoms,” as a sergeant in General Custer’s ill-fated cavalry at the Battle of the Little Bighorn. Brown also appeared in an episode of Rod Serling’s follow-up series, The Night Gallery, in 1972. A common character actor from the 1960s onward, his only recurring role came in 1984-1985 when he appeared in 40 episodes of the soap opera Days of Our Lives as Shawn Brady. Brown died in 2014 at the age of 89.

  • Carol Rossen as the Lieutenant’s Wife

Carol Eve Rossen is the daughter of Hollywood screenwriter and director Robert Rossen. She made her screen debut in 1960, the same year “Back There” was filmed. Less than a year after filming The Twilight Zone, Rossen reunited with her costar, Jean Inness, when both women appeared in the first episode of Dr. Kildare. In 1966, Rossen married actor Hal Holbrook, and the couple was still married when Holbrook appeared in the Lincoln miniseries with Barlett Robinson. Rossen and Holbrook divorced in 1983. Rossen made her film debut in 1969, and in 1975, she appeared in the original The Stepford Wives movie. Tragedy struck Rossen on Valentine’s Day in 1984. While taking a morning walk through Will Rogers State Park in Los Angeles, Rossen said good morning to a random man jogging past her down a trail. Not long after, that same man turned around, ran back up to Rossen, and violently attacked her with a 3-foot-long hammer. She fought back against her attacker as he swung at her with his hammer. Rossen suffered a violent blow to the top of her head and was knocked down into a ditch. Rossen played dead, and her attacker fled. She miraculously recovered from the incident and wrote a book about her experiences in 1988. Sadly, Rossen’s attacker has never been identified. Since that time, Rossen has only had two other acting credits, both in the 1990s. In addition to her book about her attack, she has also written a biography about her father, which was published in 2019. Rossen is the last surviving cast member of “Back There,” having celebrated her 87th birthday in 2024.

Update: I reached out to Ms. Rossen through her website, asking about any memories she had in filming this episode. She replied with:

“Twilight Zone was one of the first shows I did in California. Truly, the only thing I remember about the very brief shoot was almost tripping on a camera cable as I walked down the staircase. A somewhat haphazard directorial attitude when working with young actors. There was no discussion of the Lincoln assassination or its historical context.”

  • Raymond Bailey as Millard

It’s fitting that the most vocal of Corrigan’s rich friends at the posh Potomac Club, Millard, was portrayed by Raymond Bailey, as his most famous role was that of the miserly banker Milburn Drysdale from The Beverley Hillbillies. Bailey portrayed Mr. Drysdale in 248 episodes of the show from 1962 – 1971. Bailey had made his screen debut in small uncredited film roles back in 1939. During WWII, he served in the United States Merchant Marines. His first television role occurred in 1952. “Back There” was Bailey’s second of three appearances in The Twilight Zone. He had earlier appeared in season one’s “Escape Clause,” playing the abused doctor of the hypochondriac main character. He later returned in season five’s “From Agnes – With Love,” playing the supervisor of the master programmer who takes love advice from a computer. In 1956, Bailey played the role of Secretary of War Edwin Stanton in the live television production “The Day Lincoln Was Shot” on the anthology series Ford Star Jubilee (my thanks to Richard Sloan for cluing me in on this fact). Raymond Bailey began experiencing memory issues near the end of The Beverly Hillbillies and only appeared twice more on screen after the series ended. He died on the anniversary of Lincoln’s death, April 15, 1980, at the age of 75.

  • Raymond Greenleaf as Jackson

Raymond Greenleaf was born in 1892, the oldest credited cast member in “Back There.” He had been a traveling stage actor since the early 1920s. He performed on Broadway in the 1940s before making his film debut in 1948. In 1949, he appeared in the movie All the King’s Men, which was written, directed, and produced by Robert Rossen, the father of Greenleaf’s costar in “Back There,” Carol Rossen. By 1952, he had started taking on television roles, and these came to outnumber his film credits as time went on. Greenleaf was often cast in the roles of judges, doctors, and sheriffs. He died in 1963 at the age of 71.

  • Nora Marlowe as the Chambermaid

Nora Marlowe’s first screen credit dates to 1953. A hard-working character actress in television and film, she has over 130 credits to her name. She appeared in two episodes of The Twilight Zone. Her second is in the season five episode, “Night Call,” where she plays Margaret Phillips, a caretaker for an elderly woman who begins receiving unsettling and otherworldly phone calls in the middle of the night. That episode was originally scheduled to air on November 22, 1963, but all regular programming was canceled on that date due to the assassination of President John F. Kennedy. “Night Call” eventually aired in February of 1964. Marlowe is likely best known for her recurring role as the boardinghouse owner, Mrs. Flossie Brimmer, on The Waltons. Her 27 episodes of The Waltons marked her final acting credits. Nora Marlowe died between season 6 and season 7 of the show on December 31, 1977, at the age of 62.

  • James Gavin as the Arresting Patrolman

James Gavin was a TV character actor working consistently from the mid-1950s until about 1970. Much of Gavin’s work was in Western shows, but he did have a few film credits to his name. His last screen credit was in 1975. Gavin died in 2008 at the age of 88.

  • John Eldredge as Whitaker

Like many of his costars, John Eldredge got his start as a stage actor in New York. He appeared on Broadway and secured a contract with Warner Brothers. He made his first film appearance in 1934. He was a prolific character actor in film, appearing in over 80 movies between 1934 and 1950. In 1950, he took his first television role and continued to split his time pretty evenly between TV and film roles in the years that followed. His only main role was on a short-lived television show called Meet Corliss Archer, which aired for a single season in 1954. Eldredge appeared in all 39 episodes of the series as the father of the titular teenager. John Eldredge died at the age of 57 in 1961, just eight months after the airing of “Back There.”

  • Pat O’Malley as the Attendant

Born in 1900, Pat O’Malley was the most prolific actor in “Back There.” He started his career in entertainment as a child vaudeville performer before moving into film. In 1914, he made his first screen appearance in the silent film The Best Man. The silent era was the most successful for O’Malley, as he appeared in over 90 films over a 15-year period. During this time, he often played lead roles. When talking pictures came in the late 1920s, O’Malley’s leading roles came to an end, but he continued to be a prolific character actor in supporting and often uncredited roles. He made his first appearance on television in 1950 and evenly split his time between film and TV for the next five years. Starting in 1956, he worked exclusively in television. “Back There” was O’Malley’s second of three appearances on The Twilight Zone. He earlier appeared in the nostalgic episode “Walking Distance” from season one, where he played the slumbering Mr. Wilson in the stockroom of the soda shop revisited by the main character. He returned in another nostalgic episode, “Static,” which is one of the videotaped episodes in season two. In that episode, O’Malley played Mr. Llewelyn, one of the older residents who witnessed Dean Jagger’s character get sentimental over an old radio that only he could hear. O’Malley made his last appearance on screen in an uncredited film role in 1962. He died in 1966 at the age of 75. Pat O’Malley more than doubles any of his “Back There” co-stars’ screen appearances, racking up just under 450 screen credits during his nearly 50-year career.


Production Facts

The Script

Out of the 156 episodes of The Twilight Zone, Rod Serling wrote the scripts for 92 of them. “Back There” was one of these Serling-penned stories. In his book, The Twilight Zone: Unlocking the Door to a Television Classic, media historian Martin Grams, Jr., writes that Serling had originally intended this to be an hour-long teleplay. Serling offered the hourlong version of this script, then called “Afterwards,” to the Armstrong Circle Theatre, but they decided against buying it. Serling attempted to convince the sponsors of The Twilight Zone to expand the show to an hour, but the second season was already over budget, which led to some of the shows being recorded on videotape instead of film as a cost-saving measure. Serling was forced to cut his script down to 23 minutes, and he retitled the show “Back There.” Serling eventually got his wish for an hour-long timeslot during the fourth season of The Twilight Zone. One of his scripts for that season, “No Time Like the Past,” also deals with the concept of traveling back in time in an attempt to change history. That episode even has a plot point about the assassination of a president, but it is about President Garfield, not Lincoln.

In volume 10 of the series, As Timeless as Infinity: The Complete Twilight Zone Scripts of Rod Serling, edited by Tony Albarella, a working script for “Back There” dated July 28, 1960, can be found. This script differs somewhat from the final shooting version of the script that was finalized on September 14. Some of the changes in the script are small, like “The Potomac Club” originally being called “The Washington Club” and the fact that the script has Corrigan gaining a hat when he appears in the past. There are also a few extra lines here and there, and altered versions of other lines. The largest change from the July script and what was eventually shot was the introductory scene between Corrigan and William. In this earlier version, William does not spill any coffee on Corrigan. Instead, their interaction goes like this:

As Corrigan heads toward the front door

WILLIAM
(going by)
Good night, Mr. Corrigan.

CORRIGAN
Good night, William.
(then he looks at the elderly man a little more closely)
Everything all right with you, William? Looks like you’ve lost some weight.

WILLIAM
(with a deference built of a forty year habit pattern)
Just the usual worries, sir. The stars and my salary are fixed – it’s the cost of living that goes up.

Corrigan smiles, reaches into his pocket, starts to hand him a bill.

WILLIAM
Oh no, sir, I couldn’t-

Corrigan forces it into his hand.

CORRIGAN
Yes, you can, William. Bless you and say hello to your wife for me.

WILLIAM
Thank you so much, sir.
(a pause)
Did you have a coat with you…

From there, the scene continues like the show, with Corrigan saying he felt spring in the air and William telling him the date is April 14th.

The Director

According to Martin Grams, Jr., rehearsal for “Back There” occurred on September 16 and 19, 1960, and filming took place on September 20, 21, and 22nd.

“Back There” was directed by David Orrick McDearmon. He had been a television actor in the 1950s before making the switch to directing. This was McDearmon’s third and final directorial outing for The Twilight Zone. Earlier in season two, he directed “A Thing About Machines” about a recluse narcissist tormented by the mechanical objects in his house. McDearmon’s first directing job in The Twilight Zone was season one’s “Execution.” That is the same episode that featured Russell Johnson as the professor who brings a murderer from the past into the present. He would direct Russell Johnson twice more on Gilligan’s Island in 1967. David Orrick McDearmon died in 1979 at the age of 65.

Filming Location

When not out at a field location like Death Valley, The Twilight Zone was filmed at Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer Studios. While the interior scenes could have been filmed at any number of MGM sound stages, I decided to take a crack at trying to pin down the location of the exterior scenes in “Back There.” These scenes consist of Corrigan walking from the Potomac Club to his home, turned 1865 boardinghouse. The city landscape of the scene led me to Lot 2 of MGM Studios in Culver City, CA.

One of the sections of Lot 2 was known as the “New York City Streets” section. This can be seen in the top right area of the map above. This section was used in a number of films and TV shows to represent any metropolitan city. While different streets in this section usually represented different periods of time, all of the existing exteriors could also be easily redressed to fit a desired time frame.

In the episode, the door of The Potomac Club building is accessed via a decorative landing with two sets of stairs running up either side. After walking down these steps onto the street level, Corrigan observes the horse-drawn carriages and the clothing of the passersby before running across the street. The words “Mantel Clocks” can be seen on the top of the building across the street.

In the next exterior shot, Corrigan walks on a sidewalk in front of some buildings to the front of what he expects is his home, but in 1865, is a boardinghouse instead. At the beginning of the shot, we can still see the steps of the Potomac Club in the background, showing that this was shot on the same street (and that Corrigan lives extremely close to the club).

This street layout perfectly matches Wimpole Street on the MGM Lot 2 map.

During my search, I came across an interesting website from a former “Phantom of the Backlot” – a person who used to trespass and explore studio backlots back in their heyday. In a post where the Phantom recalled playing baseball in this section of the lot, they included an image of Wimpole Street. I’ve highlighted the matching features.

From this photographic evidence, we can conclude that these scenes were filmed on Wimpole Street.

The only other exterior shot in the episode is when Corrigan rushes to the back of Ford’s Theatre and starts pounding on the door to be let in. Unfortunately, there isn’t enough detail in this shot for me to determine where it was filmed. As can be seen from the map, however, there were plenty of small alleyways and nooks where such a scene could have been shot on Lot 2.

Editing

In addition to having to winnow the original script down to fit the half-hour timeslot, even more cuts were made to “Back There” during the editing process. In the scene where Corrigan first interacts with Mrs. Landers at the boardinghouse, a jump cut can be seen between Mrs. Landers’ question, “Whom do you wish to see?” and Corrigan’s next line, “I used to live here.”

According to the script, after Mrs. Landers’ question, Corrigan replies with “I’m just wondering if…” before trailing off. Then Mrs. Landers repeats her question, “Whom do you wish to see, young man?” which is where the episode picks back up. Interestingly, according to Rod Serling’s script, all of this conversation is supposed to be taking place with Corrigan standing outside the door on the stoop. Mrs. Landers does not allow him into the house until after he tells her he is an army veteran. Obviously, filming constraints led the director to move this dialogue inside.

Another more significant edit occurred in the moments after Corrigan appeared in the past. After checking out his change of clothes, Corrigan turns to bang on the door of the club. In the episode, a subtle cut is made here, and then Corrigan turns around and mumbles about going home.

However, this edit actually removed an entire character from the show. According to the script, when Corrigan bangs on the door in the past, it is opened by a club attendant in 1865. The two men then have the following conversation:

ATTENDANT
Who is it? What do you want?

CORRIGAN
I left something in there.
He starts to push his way in and the attendant partially closes the door on him.

ATTENDANT
Now here you – the Club is closed this evening.

CORRIGAN
The devil it is. I just left here a minute ago.

ATTENDANT
(peers at him)
You did what? You drunk, young man? That it? You’re drunk, huh?

CORRIGAN
I am not drunk. I want to see Mr. Jackson or Mr. Whittaker, or William. Let me talk to William. Where is he now?

ATTENDANT
Who?

CORRIGAN
William. What’s the matter with you? Where did you come from?
(then he looks down at his clothes)
What’s the idea of this –
(He looks up. The door has been shut. He pounds on it again, shouting)
Hey! Open up!

ATTENDANT (voice from inside)
You best get away from here or I’ll call the police. Go on. Get out of here.

This scene was filmed but cut during the editing process. The 1865 attendant was portrayed by actor Fred Kruger. A television character actor, Kruger had also appeared in the first season Twilight Zone episode, “What You Need.” In that show, he played the “Man on the Street,” who received a comb from the elderly peddler who foresaw he would be getting his picture taken.

His cut work in “Back There” would be among Fred Kruger’s final roles as he died on December 5, 1961, at the age of 48.

Borrowed Footage

There are four shots in “Back There” that utilize footage from another production. These consist of two shots showing the interior of Ford’s Theatre during Our American Cousin and two shots of a crowd ostensibly on the street outside Corrigan’s window announcing the news that the President has been shot.

I knew that these scenes had to have come from somewhere else, so I reached out to Richard Sloan, an expert on Lincoln in film and TV, and asked him if they looked familiar. He quickly recognized that Frank McGlynn, Sr., a regular Lincoln actor, portrayed the Lincoln in the box. Richard determined that the Ford’s Theatre scenes came from the 1936 film The Prisoner of Shark Island, which tells a largely fictional tale about the arrest and imprisonment of Dr. Samuel Mudd. With this lead, I was able to determine that the crowd scenes also come from The Prisoner of Shark Island and depict the crowd that arrives at the White House at the beginning of the film to hear McGlynn’s Lincoln speak about the surrender of Robert E. Lee.

Interestingly, all of the footage from The Prisoner of Shark Island used in “Back There” is supplemental footage that wasn’t used in the film. While the film has similar shots using the same angles and actors, the footage used in The Twilight Zone is slightly different, showing that the production acquired unused material, likely from the film’s own cutting room floor.

Richard emailed Martin Grams, Jr., asking about this, noting that The Prisoner of Shark Island was released almost 25 years prior to the filming of “Back There.” Grams replied that Twilight Zone producer Buck Houghton likely contacted 20th Century Fox looking for Lincoln assassination footage, and the studio licensed the use of stock footage from the movie.

The Score

This episode features a custom musical score that was written and conducted by noted composer Jerry Goldsmith. The different tracks of this episode bear titles such as “The Club,” “Return to the Past,” “Ford’s Theatre,” “Mr. Wellington,” “The Wine,” “The Assassination,” and “Old William,” to name a few. As budgetary and time constraints prevented each episode of The Twilight Zone from having its own custom score, the tracks from “Back There” became part of the studio’s stock music collection and were often reused. In all, music from “Back There” can be heard in ten other episodes of the show*. Most notably, “Return to the Past” is heard when the Kanamits make their first appearance to the U.N. in the classic episode “To Serve Man,” and “Ford’s Theatre” is played at the climatic moment of “Nightmare at 20,000 Feet” when William Shatner’s character opens the door of the plane to shot at the gremlin. I’ve created a short video highlighting these examples:

The Trailer

In addition to his normal opening and closing narrations, Rod Serling also appeared at the very end of each episode in a short trailer highlighting next week’s episode. These casual trailers are not included in reruns or on streaming services. However, the episode trailers do appear on some of the physical releases of the series. Here is the trailer for “Back There,” which appeared at the end of the prior episode, “Dust:”

The total cost for the production of “Back There” was $47,090.82, with the cast pay consisting of $4,518.46. Despite Russell Johnson’s character giving the date as April 14, 1961, “Back There” originally aired on January 13, 1961. It was the thirteenth episode of The Twilight Zone‘s second season.


Trivia (historical and otherwise):

  • A healthy chunk of the show occurs at The Potomac Club in Washington, D.C. The sign outside of the club states that it was established in 1858. There actually were a few Potomac Clubs that existed in D.C. during the pre-Civil War years. In 1854, one Potomac Club was founded by members of the local Vigilant Fire Company and acted as a fundraising arm for the fire department. In 1857, the Potomac Fishing Club was established and hosted its first-ever picnic. In 1858, the Potomac-Side Naturalists’ Club was founded, devoted to the study of natural history. Unlike the Potomac Club in the show, however, none of these organizations had fancy clubhouses of their own. The Potomac Club in “Back There” is a purely fictional gentlemen’s club, but not unlike the club Edwin Booth later founded in New York City, The Players.

  • When the camera pans over to Rod Serling as he gives the opening narration, he is seen seated in an armchair and reading a newspaper. The newspaper he is reading is “The Daily Journal,” a fictional prop newspaper. We’re all familiar with the TV and movie trope of a shot of a newspaper with a headline about a plot point in the drama. While this main story is often unique to a specific production, the same secondary articles can be found over and over again across many movies and shows. In Serling’s newspaper, some of the article titles include “Three Persons Die in Crash,” “Northside Hospital Building Fund Nears Goal with State Support,” “Bids Given on Bridge Project,” “Move to Ban Office Mergers is Begun,” “Fire Destroys State Aresnal, “$60,000 Damage in Gigantic Eastside Warehouse Fire,” and “Firemen, 18, Hurt as Engine Upsets.” If you image search any of these article titles, you will find their appearance not only in other Twilight Zone episodes but in many other shows and movies. For example, fictional newspapers containing the story “Northside Hospital Building Fund Nears Goal with State Support” can be found in movies like The Day the Earth Stood Still, Breakfast at Tiffany’s, and The Godfather.

  • The bust of Abraham Lincoln that is displayed at the Potomac Club was sculpted by Max Bachmann, a German-born sculptor who resided in New York. Bachmann lived from 1862 to 1921. As early as 1901, he sculpted two busts of Lincoln, identical except that one featured the bearded President and the other was clean-shaven. These busts were distributed by P.P. Caproni and Brother and became very popular. Bachmann’s Lincoln busts were credited as being the most life-like recreations of the President in sculpture. In 1911, Caproni started offering full Lincoln statues, the bodies of which were based on Augustus Saint-Gaudens’ standing Lincoln statue, but with Bachmann’s busts used as the heads. I’m indebted to fellow researcher Scott Schroeder for helping me identify this Lincoln bust. Scott and Dave Wiegers have been working on a great map of known Lincoln statues and monuments that you can check out by clicking here.

  • In the scene where Corrigan is shown running up Baptist Alley and pounding on the stage door of Ford’s Theatre, two large broadsides are shown. One of them is a mock-up of a broadside announcing that night’s performance of Our American Cousin. It is similar in style to a modified Ford’s Theatre playbill and, as far as props go, is well done. The other broadside, only seen as Corrigan runs up, is not a duplicate of the Our American Cousin poster but an advertisement for the next night’s show of The Octoroon. After the assassination of Lincoln, this performance did not go on, but the Ford brothers had commissioned the making of a broadside announcing the performance. In a picture taken of Ford’s Theatre draped in mourning shortly after the assassination, the broadside for The Octoroon can be seen posted on the side of the street near the theater.

“Back There” did a decent job of recreating this broadside and gets bonus points for including such an obscure reference in a shot that lasts just seconds.

  • There are a few notable decorations in the police station where Corrigan is brought after his unsuccessful attempt to enter the back door of Ford’s Theatre.

Hanging on the back wall of the police station, near the door where both Corrigan and Mr. Wellington make their entrances and exits, we can see a lithograph of General Grant and President Lincoln. The specific print shown is called “The Preservers of Our Union” and was published by Kimmel & Forester in 1865.

  • Behind the police sergeant at the front of the room, there is an American flag on a staff and two portraits. While the flag is not completely unfurled, the visible star pattern looks like it might have been the correct 35-star flag that existed between July 1863 and July 1865. You have to respect the prop department for going out of their way to find a period flag, even though very little of it is seen.
  • One of the portraits hanging near the flag is a copy of Gilbert Stuart’s Athenaeum Portrait of George Washington. The original painting was done from life in 1796, but was left unfinished by Stuart.

Stuart used the Athenaeum Portrait as his model for many subsequent paintings of Washington made after the President died in 1799. A print of one of Stuart’s paintings was framed and used to decorate the outside of the box at Ford’s Theatre, which was occupied by President Lincoln on the night of his assassination. The image below shows that portrait of Washington, which was knocked off the box when John Wilkes Booth made his leap to the stage.

  • The image to the left of the police sergeant’s podium is a large, oval portrait of Abraham Lincoln. This appears to be a painting based on Francis Bicknell Carpenter’s 1864 drawing of Lincoln, which was published in 1866 by engraver Frederick Halpin.

Carpenter lived in the White House for six months in 1864. During this time, he was engaged in painting his most famous work, “First Reading of the Emancipation Proclamation of President Lincoln.”

  • During the police station scenes, one of the cameras used for some of the close-up shots suffered from a “hair in the gate.” This is when an actual hair or a sliver of broken-off film gets trapped in the camera’s film gate. This hair blocks part of the film, preventing it from being exposed. Since these hairs couldn’t be seen through the viewfinder, a hair in the gate could ruin a shot and might not be noticed until editing. Sets often stopped to “check the gate” after each shot to ensure that the footage was usable since it was extremely difficult to edit out such hairs in the pre-digital age. In the close-ups of the police sergeant and then of the patrolman who suggests putting extra guards on Lincoln, a small hair can be seen in the top right corner of these shots. Evidently, someone didn’t “check the gate” during these shots.

  • In his room, Mr. Wellington relates to Corrigan that he dabbled in “medicine of the mind.” Corrigan replies with the word “psychiatrist,” but Mr. Wellington says he doesn’t know that term. This is a correct statement. The term psychiatry didn’t really make its appearance in English until around 1846, and it took far longer than that before the word psychiatrist came to be used to refer to a practitioner. It will be remembered that most psychiatric disorders were given the broad description of “insanity” in those days, with affected individuals being sent to insane asylums. Even if Mr. Wellington had truly dabbled in the “medicine of the mind,” the term psychiatry and psychiatrist would have been completely foreign to him in 1865.
  • Wellington/Booth recalls his own days “as a young man” in college. Like in many other productions featuring the Lincoln assassination, John Wilkes Booth is portrayed in “Back There” as a far older man than he was. Booth was only 26 years old when he killed the President and had never gone to college. It’s even more humorous that Booth refers to Corrigan as “his young friend” since Russell Johnson was three years older than the 32-year-old John Lasell, who played Booth. While Lasell may have looked a little on the older side, his portrayal is a marked improvement over Francis McDonald’s appearance as JWB in The Prisoner of Shark Island:

Francis McDonald as John Wilkes Booth in The Prisoner of Shark Island

McDonald was around 45 when he played the assassin, but looked far older than his years.

  • “Back There” did a great job of costuming Lasell as John Wilkes Booth. From the moment he arrives at the police station, it is clear that he is a man of elegance. Even the otherwise curt police sergeant speaks to him reverently because of his dress and appearance of standing. The long coat that “Wellington” wears is a decent copy of a similar fur-collared coat that Booth wears in multiple photographs.

  • The decor in Wellington’s room also matches the aesthetic of wealth. While Booth may not have been considered wealthy, especially after spending a great deal of money to further his plot against Lincoln, he would have undoubtedly wanted to portray the illusion of wealth and status. His room is filled with images, artwork, vases, and sculptures, not unlike the decor in the posh Potomac Club. The only decorative items I’ve been able to identify in this room are two silhouette images hanging near the door of the room. They are both lithographs duplicating the work of William Henry Brown, a well-known silhouette artist who lived from 1808 to 1883. Extremely skilled in the craft of capturing a person’s profile, Brown often cut his silhouettes from life free-hand in a matter of minutes. Numerous notable persons had their silhouettes cut by Brown.

The rightmost lithograph, only partially visible when Wellington starts to exit, depicts President John Quincy Adams. The left lithograph, which turns up in multiple shots in the room, depicts another president: John Tyler. While I don’t know John Wilkes Booth’s view on John Quincy Adams, the actor would have likely been a fan of President Tyler due to his support of the South’s secession. The former President was actually elected as a Representative to the Confederacy’s House of Representatives but died in January of 1862 before he could take his seat. Jefferson Davis had Tyler buried in Virginia with his coffin draped in the Confederate flag. Due to his betrayal of the country he served as President, Tyler’s is the only Presidential death that was not officially recognized or mourned in Washington.

  • In the room, when Corrigan asks for the time, Wellington looks at his watch and states, “Half past seven. [The] play doesn’t begin for another three-quarters of an hour.” According to Thomas Bogar’s wonderful book, Backstage at the Lincoln Assassination, the normal curtain time for performances at Ford’s Theatre was 7:45 p.m. However, on the night of April 14th, the starting time for Our American Cousin was delayed as the house waited for the arrival of the President and his party. Musical director William Withers led his orchestra in the playing of several patriotic songs to pass the time. However, half an hour passed, and the President’s party still had not arrived. John B. Wright, the stage manager of Ford’s, decided they had waited long enough, and so the play began without their celebrated guests present. While “Back There” actually gives the correct start time of Our American Cousin as 8:15, Wellington/Booth would not have known about the delay if he were still in his hotel room at 7:30.

Other Adaptations

From 2002 – 2012, classic episodes of The Twilight Zone were adapted as audio dramas and played over syndicated radio. In these Twilight Zone Radio Dramas, a guest celebrity actor would come in and take on the main role of an episode while the rest of the roles were played by a regular company of voice actors. These radio dramas were published in physical and digital form, and many have been included as special features on the Blu-Ray releases of The Twilight Zone. The audio remake of “Back There” features actor Jim Caviezel in the role of Peter Corrigan. The adaptation is very close to the original, though extended by about ten minutes and altered to fit the audio-only format. Personally, I feel that Caviezel is a bit underwhelming as Corrigan, but I still enjoy the audio drama as a whole. You can listen to the radio adaptation yourself by clicking here or on the picture above.

The radio show is not the only adaptation of “Back There.” In 1963, Cayuga Productions published a book entitled Rod Serling’s The Twilight Zone. The book was subtitled, “13 New Stories From the Supernatural Especially Written for Young People.” While published by Serling’s production company and bearing his name, the volume is actually a collection of short stories written by Walter B. Gibson. A prolific author, Gibson is known for penning over 300 stories about the cult fictional character, The Shadow. Of the 13 stories contained in the book, two of them are adaptations of actual Twilight Zone episodes. These are season one’s “Judgement Night” and “Back There.”

Gibson makes many changes in adapting “Back There” into a short story. In the story, Peter Corrigan is an astrophysicist from New York who has recently been accepted into The Potomac Club, which leans more toward being a scientific society in this version. He travels to D.C. to visit the club for the first time. Caught in a downpour of rain outside of the club, William, the attendant, offers Corrigan a rather antique suit of clothes to wear while his outfit is dried and pressed. In the “monument room,” Corrigan meets with his club sponsors, Millard, Whitaker, and Jackson. Rather than just being three affluent men casually talking about time travel, the trio are experts in parapsychology, biochemistry, and history. Millard recounts his theory about time travel and theorizes that a time traveler may have been accidentally responsible for the stock market crash of 1929. Jackson, the historian, then takes Corrigan on a tour of the club, pointing out all of the old period pieces that were put in around the time of the club’s founding. When attempting to catch up with William to inquire about the status of his clothes, Corrigan slips on the wet marble and falls, hitting his head on the floor. A much younger-looking William comes to his aid, but Corrigan shakes off the fall. Upon being told by a quizzical William that it is not raining, Corrigan decides to take a walk and get some fresh air. Outside, Corrigan sees a horse-drawn carriage and, struck by the novelty of it all, decides to take a ride. During this ride, Corrigan observes sights like the incomplete Washington Monument and soldiers dressed in Union uniforms. He realizes he has somehow traveled back to Civil War Washington. At the Willard Hotel, he spots a newspaper bearing the date April 14, 1865. He flips through the paper until he sees an announcement that President Lincoln and General Grant will be attending the play Our American Cousin at Ford’s Theatre that evening. [Note: This has a basis in fact. Announcements were made in the evening papers that Lincoln and Grant would appear at Ford’s Theatre.]

Corrigan rushes over to Ford’s Theatre and enters the lobby, but the box office is closed. After a few knocks, a ticket taker opens it up but tells Corrigan he can’t do anything but sell him a ticket. Instinctively, Corrigan buys a ticket while asking to see Mr. Ford, the manager. The ticket taker tells him to check the bar next door or around the backstage door. After no luck at the bar, Corrigan pounds on the locked backstage door until a stagehand opens it. Corrigan tells the stagehand that the President is in danger and that he needs to see Mr. Ford. The stagehand tells him that Mr. Ford isn’t around, but Corrigan attempts to push past him anyway. A brawl ensues, and Corrigan is arrested. At the station, Corrigan learns that the stagehand who tried to get rid of him was Ned Spangler, a name he recognizes as one of Booth’s conspirators.

While Corrigan sits in a cell, the same basic conversation between the sergeant and one of the patrolmen occurs, with the patrolman wanting to secure an extra guard for Lincoln and the sergeant telling him to forget it. The only real change in the conversation is how the sergeant notes that General Grant is going to be with Lincoln at the theater, so the President will be guarded enough. Then, a handsomely dressed man enters the police station and introduces himself as “Bartram J. Wellington, M.D.” He tells the sergeant that he is in the government service as part of a mental branch that is tasked with helping misguided folks who see assassinations and plots everywhere. Not wanting to be stuck in a prison cell, Corrigan agrees to go with Wellington. On the way out, Corrigan tells the patrolman that Grant will not be at Ford’s that night, and, just then, a message comes into the station announcing the same.

In the 1963 edition of Rod Serling’s The Twilight Zone, each short story was accompanied by an illustration by artist Earl Mayan. This is Mayan’s collage for “Back There.” (Click to enlarge)

Corrigan and Dr. Wellington walk to the National Hotel, where Wellington is staying. Not wanting to appear crazy and seeing that there are still two hours before the play begins, Corrigan briefly drops the matter of Lincoln’s assassination. In his room, Dr. Wellington asks Corrigan about himself and how he came to believe the President was in danger. He asks if Corrigan has suffered any accidents lately, and Corrigan points out the bruise on the back of his head from his fall in the club. Wellington pulls out a handkerchief, soaks it in a liquid, and wraps it around Corrigan’s head like a bandage. He then pours Corrigan a drink, which he insists Corrigan take to relax. Wellington then leads Corrigan to believe that he has convinced him of the legitimacy of his claims. Wellington suggests sending a messenger to the surgeon general’s office so that they might be granted an audience with the President. Corrigan lies back and rests as Wellington exits, ostensibly to get help. However, then Corrigan hears the sound of a key locking him in the room. He attempts to stand but finds that he can’t. His body feels paralyzed. He can only pull the handkerchief bandage off his head, and he notices the initials JWB in the corner. His mind tries to understand:

“‘Bartram J. Wellington…B-J-W…B-J-‘ Corrigan’s breath came with a hard gasp. ‘J-W’ Another gasp – ‘J-W-B…J-W-B.’ His mind, still alert, turned those initials into a name: ‘John Wilkes Booth!'”

Corrigan passes out but is awakened by the sound of the patrolman entering the room. Corrigan asks for the time, and the patrolman replies that it is 10 o’clock. It’s not too late! The pair get into a carriage outside the National and rush towards Ford’s Theatre. The patrolman tells Corrigan that he started investigating Wellington after his appearance at the station. He discovered there was no Dr. Wellington nor a government service dealing with the mentally ill. After learning Wellington matched the description of the actor, John Wilkes Booth, the patrolman rushed to his room at the National Hotel and procured the key. The pair rush to Ford’s Theatre as fast as they can, with the patrolman showing other carriages, horses, and pedestrians out of their way.

Just as they arrive at the theater, a crowd of panicked people come rushing out of the door, announcing that the President has been shot. Corrigan shouts that it was Booth who shot the President and that he was now on his horse galloping off toward Maryland. A group of theatergoers grab Corrigan, convinced the only way a person on the street could already know this information was if he was involved in the crime. An angry mob descends on Corrigan before the patrolman manages to break through the throng and get Corrigan back into the carriage. The patrolman sends the carriage off, telling the driver to get Corrigan far away from there. A dazed and battered Corrigan lies in the back of the carriage as it rapidly moves through the streets. The driver takes Corrigan to the Potomac Club, and he wearily ascends the stairs and knocks on the door.

When the club door opens, Corrigan is greeted by William, this time looking quite old once more. William informs Corrigan that the time is six o’clock and that his suit is now dried and pressed. Corrigan realizes he has arrived back to the present. He changes into his dried suit and reenters the monument room. He finds that a fourth man has joined Millard, Whitaker, and Jackson. This man is the spitting image of the patrolman who came to Corrigan’s aid, and he tells the story of his great-grandfather, who attempted to save Lincoln’s life with the help of a crackpot who was never heard from again. Corrigan says nothing about his experience in the past to his friends, nor anything about time travel in general. On his way out of the club, he asks William if he had a great-grandfather who worked at the club. William responds that his great grand-uncle, also named William, was the doorman at the club during the Civil War. Reflecting on his experience, Corrigan waits for a cab outside the club. Just as one arrives to take him to the airport, William returns and hands something to Corrigan:

“‘This was in the pocket of that old-time suit you were wearing,’ said William. ‘So I suppose it must be yours. Good night, Mr. Corrigan.’

Soon the cab was speeding down along a smooth street into the blaze of lights that represented downtown Washington. They passed the now completed Washington Monument, which was illuminated to its full height; and off beyond, Corrigan saw the stately pillars of the magnificent Lincoln Memorial. Then, as the cab reached the bridge leading to the airport, Corrigan studied the printed cardboard strip that William had handed him.

Deliberately, he tore the strip in half; then again, again, and again. Near the middle of the bridge, Corrigan tossed the pieces from the cab window. Caught by the night breeze, they fluttered over the rail and down to the broad bosom of the Potomac River.

Those scattered scraps were all that remained of a unique collector’s item – the only unused ticket to Ford’s Theatre on it’s closing night of April 14, 1865.”

While not a true adaptation of Serling’s original teleplay, I do enjoy Walter Gibson’s take on “Back There.” This version gives a little more action to the story, with Corrigan and the patrolman rushing to Ford’s. And the switch of the JWB handkerchief for a ticket is a nice touch.


Final Thoughts

Marc Scott Zicree, author of The Twilight Zone Companion, is not a fan of “Back There,” writing:

“For all the intellectual fascination of its premise, however, ‘Back There’ is a dramatic failure. The reason is obvious: from the outset the conclusion is known; Lincoln was assassinated, therefore Corrigan won’t be able to intercede. Says Buck Houghton [the producer of The Twilight Zone], ‘I think that when you play ducks and drakes with the shooting of Lincoln, your suspension of disbelief goes to hell in a bucket.'”

While I certainly understand this critique, I still feel that this episode is more than a foregone conclusion. Yes, new viewers will likely go into it pretty confident that Russell Johnson won’t be able to save Lincoln, but watching the attempt play out is still compelling. This opinion was shared by the associate producer of The Twilight Zone during its second season, Del Reisman, who later recalled:

“We had a big struggle on that topic in the sense that we know that Lincoln was assassinated. So when the ending is already known by everyone, where’s the suspense? My feeling was that the suspense lies in how the character does it, how he tries to prevent the shooting. That’s the interest. It doesn’t matter that we know that Lincoln was assassinated. We want to know how Russell Johnson’s character does this, his approach to it… Incidentally, that theme comes up a lot, whenever you’re dealing with historical storytelling. I was working at Fox television at the time when they did The Longest Day. That was the Cornelius Ryan story, a World War II all-star movie about the assault on Normandy Beach and the move into the beachhead. A very good producer on the Fox lot said, ‘This is gonna flop.’ I asked why and he said, ‘Because we all know that the landing succeeded.’ I argued that the story is about how they did it. It’s the same thing on the wonderful The Day of the Jackel, which was the fictional tale of the attempted assassination of Charles de Gaulle. In effect, production people were saying, ‘We know that Charles de Gaulle was not assassinated, so what’s the suspense?’ It’s in how they attempted it. I felt that way about ‘Back There’ and I liked it.”

While some episodes like “Eye of the Beholder” or “Will the Real Martian Please Stand Up?” are built around a single twist at the end, “Back There” gives us multiple twists and turns. It’s true that Johnson is undoubtedly hamming it up at times as Corrigan, especially in the scene where he writhes around the floor somewhat laughably knocking things over, but there is still a sense of humanity in his performance. The look on his face at the very end of the episode, when he finds the JWB handkerchief in his pocket, perfectly encapsulates a man who knows he’s experienced something remarkable but is completely unsure how to make sense of it all.

One of my other favorite parts of “Back There” is the unknown nature of the mechanism that sent Corrigan back to 1865 in the first place. There’s no convoluted time machine like in “Execution” or “No Time Like the Past.” A strange feeling comes over Corrigan, and he just appears in the past. We accept this because it’s The Twilight Zone we’re dealing with, and the Twilight Zone operates under its own rules, rarely providing an explanation. There’s an elegance in that that doesn’t exist in the world of complicated sci-fi time travel movies or shows.

As far as episodes of The Twilight Zone go, “Back There” may not be considered a classic by many. However, it will always hold a top spot on my list. This is not just because it deals with a subject that I find fascinating but because the episode is everything I want from The Twilight Zone. The best episodes not only keep you thoroughly engaged while you’re watching but also give you something to think about when they are over. “Back There” invites us all to reflect on the concepts of time, fate, and our own ability to influence the future. As Rod Serling’s ending narration states, “Back There” is a thesis for each of us to take and mull over in our own way.


References

The following sources were consulted in composing this post

A very special thanks to Richard Sloan and Scott Schroeder for lending me their expertise for this project.

*The ten Twilight Zone episodes featuring music from “Back There” are: “To Serve Man,” “Death Ship,” “No Time Like the Past,” “The Parallel,” “Nightmare at 20,000 Feet,” “Uncle Simon,” “Probe 7, Over and Out,” “You Drive,” “The Masks,” and “Stopover in a Quiet Town.”

While my own handkerchief is missing the embroidered JWB in the corner, it does have the autographs of both John Lasell (JWB) and Russell Johnson (Peter Corrigan).

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

The Last Words Lincoln Heard

In January of 1890, an article appeared in the Century Magazine by John Nicolay and John Hay, the personal secretaries of President Abraham Lincoln. For the past four years, the pair had been releasing regular articles in Century documenting the life and Presidency of their former boss. Nearing the end of their project, this 1890 chapter of their ongoing Abraham Lincoln: A History series was titled “The Fourteenth of April” and covered Lincoln’s assassination. Nicolay and Hay set the scene well, documenting Lincoln’s movements that day and highlighting the fateful events at Ford’s Theatre that evening. When discussing the moments just before the fatal shot was fired, the duo wrote:

“No one, not even the comedian on the stage, could ever remember the last words of the piece that were uttered that night – the last Abraham Lincoln heard upon earth. The whole performance remains in the memory of those who heard it a vague phantasmagoria, the actors the thinnest of specters.”

This claim –  that no one could recall the words spoken on stage before the shot was fired – came as a surprise to several people who had witnessed the assassination or had heard the story from those who had been there. While the memory of the last words may have waned in Hay and Nicolay, there were some alive in 1890 who remembered well the last lines of Our American Cousin that were uttered before the building erupted into chaos. Not the least of those who remembered the event vividly was the described “comedian on the stage” himself, actor Harry Hawk.

In 1865, William Henry “Harry” Hawk was a star performer in Laura Keene’s acting troupe. Our American Cousin had been a breakout hit for the trailblazing actress and theater owner when she debuted it in 1858. Even seven years later, the play was immensely popular, so much so that Keene had gone to court against actors like John Wilkes Booth’s brother-in-law, John Sleeper Clarke, who had put on the show themselves without her consent. Even though Harry Hawk had not been part of the original 1858 cast, as part of Laura Keene’s troupe for the season of 1864-65, he aptly played the titular role of the American cousin, Asa Trenchard.

Just before Booth fired his derringer at Ford’s Theatre, Hawk’s character had been upbraided for his lack of proper English manners by the character of Mrs. Mountchessington, played by Ford’s Theatre stock actress Helen Muzzy. The flummoxed Mrs. Mountchessington, unaware that Asa had selflessly burnt the will granting him a large portion of the English estate so that members of the immediate family were not dispossessed of their inheritance, lambasted the backwoods American for not being used to “the manners of good society.” She then exited in a huff along with her daughter. This left Harry Hawk’s character as the only person present on the stage.

So, what were the last lines that Lincoln heard on stage? Well, according to the play’s script, after Mrs. Mountchessington leaves the stage, the somewhat frustrated Asa Trenchard is supposed to call after her with the comment, “Don’t know the manners of good society, eh? Wal, I guess I know enough to turn you inside out, old gal – you sockdologizing old man-trap.”

This famous line has gone down in history as the last words Abraham Lincoln ever heard, for according to witnesses, Booth used the laughter that followed this line to help cover the report of his pistol.

There is a minor fly in the ointment, however. What appears in the “script” for Our American Cousin may not be the exact lines that were spoken that night. Our American Cousin was very much a “living play” at the time it was being performed. The original version that British playwright Tom Taylor had written and sold to Laura Keene was very different from the show that became famous. Taylor’s version was a melodrama with some instances of farce. To spice the play up a bit, Keene and her original cast made drastic changes to Taylor’s work and increased the comedic aspects. Most notably, the character of Lord Dundreary was altered from a minor role with only 40 or so lines into the major comic relief of the entire play. Rather than being just a slightly out-of-touch aristocrat, E. A. Sothern, the original actor of Lord Dundreary, wholly reinvented the part, transforming Dundreary into a laughably loveable buffoon with a crazy style who talked with a lisp and uttered his own uniquely rearranged aphorisms such as “birds of a feather gather no moss.” The changes Keene and Sothern made to Tom Taylor’s work are what made the show a hit. Sothern became so popular in the role that he penned his own Dundreary spin-off shows that he acted in for the rest of his life.

By 1865, much of the show had become more structured, but ad-libbing and the alteration of lines were still common. In the years after the assassination, the show continued to evolve as well, making it unclear how much the 1869 printed version of Our American Cousin differs from what was heard in 1865. We know, for example, that Laura Keene herself did some ad-libbing at Ford’s Theatre, adding a line to draw attention to the President’s arrival after the show had started. Another adlib was made after one character stated their line about their being a draft in the English manor house, only for one of the actors to reassure the audience that, with the Civil War now practically at an end, there would no longer be a “draft” in the military sense.

One would think that our best source for the exact words said on stage would be from the man who uttered them, Harry Hawk. In the hours after the assassination, Hawk was interviewed by Corporal James Tanner in the front parlor of the Petersen House, where Lincoln lay dying. While Hawk discussed his placement on the stage and was among the first to formally identify John Wilkes Booth as the assassin, he did not mention the words he had spoken just before the shot. Over a decade ago, I transcribed a letter Harry Hawk wrote to his parents in the aftermath of the assassination. In that letter, Hawk confirms he was “answering [Mrs. Mountchessington’s] exit speech” when the shot was fired, but he does not include his lines.

The genesis of this post was a letter from Harry Hawk that I recently viewed in the Harry Ransom Center at the University of Texas in Austin. The letter is merely dated “Sept. 21” with no year given. However, based on the reference to the Century Magazine article, we can conclude that the letter was likely written in 1890 or perhaps 1891. Hawk is writing from the Camden House, a lodging establishment in Boston. The recipient of the letter is unknown, but it appears that they originally wrote to Hawk asking him about his experience the night of Lincoln’s assassination. This letter from Hawk is transcribed below:

Camden House
331 Tremont St.
Sept. 21st [1890 or 91]

Dear Sir

In reply to yours I will state, first that Mr. John Mathews, W. J. Ferguson, Thos Byrns [sic], Emerson, and myself are the last survivors of the men of that sad fateful event. That is to my knowledge. I haven’t a bill with the cast by me. In contradiction to the statement made by The Century Article last January, that, not even the comedian who was speaking at the time could remember the last words spoken is all rot. I was speaking at the time being entirely alone on the stage, and as I played the character many times after it would be very strange if I did not remember the lines and incidents. They are all indelibly impressed on my mind, and as clear as thought it occurred last night. I have positively refused to be interviewed on account of my friendship for Edwin Booth. And would not wound his feelings by permitting the papers publishing what I did and did not say. A few days after the Graphic article, I was awakened early in the morning at the Lindel Hotel St. Louis, by a reporter for the World, N.Y., to interview me regarding it. The last words spoken on that stage and the last ones dear old Martyr Abe Lincoln heard, these in reply to the old lady Mrs. Muzzy, who had just gone off the stage – I knew enough to turn you inside out – old woman, you darned old sock dolagin man trap 

Resp. Yours

Harry Hawk

In this way, Harry Hawk describes the last lines heard by Lincoln as a slight variation of the lines printed in Our American Cousin. While I would like to take Hawk at his word here, we should be cognizant to remember that this letter was written at least 25 years after the events it describes. Despite Hawk’s claim that the lines and incidents are “indelibly impressed” on his mind, human memory is a fickle and unreliable thing. That is why, as historians, we try our best to find sources as close to the event as possible while the memory is still fresh and is unlikely to have been inadvertently altered by the passage of time.

A photo of Edwin Booth taken in 1892.

It appears that Hawk stayed true to his word to not discuss the events of that night with reporters so long as Edwin Booth lived. The famous tragedian died in 1893, which is probably why, in 1894, Hawk agreed to be interviewed by reporters. An article about Hawk was published in March by the Washington Post, followed by a slightly different one from a Chicago reporter in April. The second article, republished across the country, described the events at Ford’s Theatre and Harry Hawk’s experiences. In this recounting of the last words said before the shot, Hawk stated, “My lines were: ‘Not accustomed to the manners of good society, eh? Well, I guess I know enough to turn you inside out, old woman. You darned old sockdologing mantrap.’

In some other similar articles from Hawk in 1894, the only significant change in the lines given is the use of the word “damned” rather than “darned.”

An engraving of the assassination from Frank Leslie’s Illustrated Newspaper. Here we can see Booth brandishing his knife on stage and uttering “Sic Semper Tyrannis” while a stupefied Harry Hawk looks on. In reality, Hawk fled from the stage when he saw Booth running towards him with a knife.

The exact phrasing Harry Hawk used to say his lines in Act 3, Scene 2 of Our American Cousin will never be known for absolute certainty, but through the printed script and Hawk’s own reminiscences from that night, we can get very close to the last words heard by President Lincoln. Regardless of the phrasing, as Hawk uttered these lines, “the audience clapped their hands and laughed in glee, in which the President joined with a smile.” For all the tragedy of that fateful night, we should take some solace in the fact that Abraham Lincoln’s last moments of consciousness were filled with joy and laughter.

Epilogue:

I’ve often heard the Park Rangers at Ford’s Theatre give their presentation about the assassination. As part of their schtick, they tell the audience that Lincoln was shot during the “biggest laugh line of the play” and then recite the printed line above. Other than some nervous laughter from a few who fear they’ve missed the joke, the line regularly goes over like a lead balloon. Part of the problem is that the line alone is just not that funny. It’s the character of Asa Trenchard as the American country bumpkin finally breaking loose and telling his British counterparts “what for” that makes the line funny. There’s also irony that the stuck-up Mrs. Mountchessington claims Asa doesn’t know his manners when he has demonstrated better manners than the entire household by selflessly renouncing his inheritance so that his British relatives would be taken care of. Out of context, the line just doesn’t pack the same comedic punch.

The other issue is likely to do with the word “sockdologizing.” It’s a completely foreign word to a modern audience, which creates confusion. But, in truth, it was a slightly made-up word in 1865 as well. The basis of the word appears to be “sockdolager” which an 1897 Dictionary of Slang struggled to define. The Dictionary of Slang attempts to connect it to the word “doxology,” a religious verse that is sung at the end of a prayer. In this way, a sockdolager could mean something conclusive that settles or ends something. If interpreted this way, Asa Trenchard is criticizing Mrs. Mountchessington for acting like she is the final word on everything, which is ironic since she doesn’t even know what Asa has done, and his news could “turn her inside out.” However, a “sockdolager” was also the name of a type of fish hook that closed via a spring.

A circa 1847 sockdolager fish hook. (Don’t ask me to explain how it works)

Given that the word “sockdologizing” is followed by the phrase “old man-trap,” this line could be interpreted to mean that Asa is calling Mrs. Mountchessington out for her own aggressive barbs and ruses hidden under the facade of her so-called “good manners.” In the end, we can’t be sure how to interpret the word “sockdologizing” in this line, but, at the same time, it really doesn’t matter. The creative wordplay alone invokes the sense of exasperation Asa is feeling, and that, above all, is where the humor comes from.

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

On the Manhunt: The Search for John Wilkes Booth

On April 3, 2024, I had the honor to present virtually to the volunteers and staff of the Abraham Lincoln Presidential Library and Museum in Springfield, Illinois. My speech was entitled, On the Manhunt: The Search for Lincoln’s Assassin. This was my third speech for the ALPLM, having presented on John Wilkes Booth in 2016 and his four executed conspirators in 2017. With the miniseries Manhunt in the news, it was decided that a refresher on the escape and search for Lincoln’s assassin would be good for the museum’s volunteers, and I was happy to be a part of their continuing education. Working on this speech was part of the reason I have had to take a break from my historical reviews of the series Manhunt for the time being.

For those who want an overview of the actual escape of John Wilkes Booth and how the search for the assassins played out, here is a video of the speech I gave, courtesy of the ALPLM.

Until I have some time to work on my next historical review for Manhunt, I hope this video will suffice and answer some of the questions you might have about Booth’s escape and capture.

Dave

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A Second Manhunt Trailer

Today, February 12, 2024, is Abraham Lincoln’s 215th birthday. Likely in celebration of this day, the folks over at AppleTV+ have released a second trailer for their upcoming miniseries Manhunt, based on the book by James L. Swanson. Unlike the trailer released last week, this one is in the form of a featurette and contains clips of the actors and producer of the series discussing their work. It’s still on the sort side of around two minutes in length, but this new trailer does show us a bit more of what the show will have to offer. Give the new trailer a watch:

Here are some of my thoughts after watching this new trailer:

  • The trailer opens with President Lincoln and United States Colored Troop soldiers walking through a severely damaged city. My guess is that this is referencing the visit Lincoln made to the fallen Confederate capital of Richmond not long before the assassination. However, the special effects of the scene could also lead one to believe this may be a dream-like sequence for the president. We’ll just have to wait and see.
  • We get our first glimpses of Lewis Powell’s attack on Secretary Seward and his household here. The clip quickly shows Powell’s entry at the Seward home, his bludgeoning of Frederick Seward with his gun, and his grappling with someone in the Seward house (enough to break a window). This trailer also clears up the question as to where Stanton went first. We see Stanton witnessing the bloodshed at Seward before asking if the President was still at the theater. This is in line with what actually occurred. Stanton had been informed by a messenger that Lincoln and Seward had been attacked and he had traveled to Seward’s house to dispel the rumor. When he witnessed the bloody scene at the Seward house, he then proposed to Gideon Welles, the Secretary of the Navy who had arrived at the Seward home at the same time, that he would go to Ford’s Theatre. As he was getting ready to depart Major Thomas Eckert rode up on horseback, he having just come from the scene outside of Ford’s Theatre. Major Eckert advised Stanton against going to 10th Street for fear there might still be assassins amongst the throng of people. As we know, Stanton decided to go anyway. In the trailer, the man to whom Stanton asks about the President and his whereabouts is Major Eckert.
  • Mary Lincoln is shown mournfully climbing the steps to the Lincoln funeral car in her black mourning attire while a steady rain falls. This is an example of understandable dramatic license on the part of the series. In reality, the bereft Mary Lincoln was too overcome with grief to participate in the public funerary events for her husband. She did not escort Lincoln’s coffin on the funeral train and, as far as I know, never set foot on the train where her husband and son’s remains were transported. The scene does make for a touching visual, though.
  • There are a few character collages that pop up during this trailer. The first is titled “The Hunters,” and shows the actors playing the figures of Edwin Stanton, Col. Lafayette Baker, Thomas Eckert, and Boston Corbett.
  • At the 40-second mark, a voice is heard saying, “It’s a code” and then a cipher cylinder is shown. It will be interesting to see how this is worked into the series. As I’ve written about previously, there’s a lot of confusion and misinformation out there about John Wilkes Booth’s so-called “Confederate” cipher. During the investigation, a paper Vigenère table in Booth’s handwriting was found in his trunk at the National Hotel. It was admitted into evidence during the trial of the conspirators. A Vigenère cipher cylinder like the one shown in the trailer was also entered into evidence. This cylinder had been captured from the Confederate offices in Richmond along with coded letters. However, there is no connection between Booth’s Vigenère table and the seized Confederate cipher aside from the format being the same. A Vigenère table is merely a tool for encoding or decoding information. We know of no coded letters written by Booth or his conspirators. The Vigenère table was likely Booth’s attempt at playing “spy,” as he would like to boast to his sister, Asia. While the Confederacy used their ciphers to send coded messages, there is no evidence that Booth ever participated in this. No coded notes from the Confederacy have ever been found mentioning Booth or his plot. The purpose of admitting the cipher cylinder as evidence at the trial was due to the fact that Confederate officials were also being tried, in absentia, for Lincoln’s murder. The fact that Booth owned a Vigenère table was the government’s weak attempt to connect Booth to the Confederate government. While having a Vigenère table may seem damning, it’s more akin to trying to connect Botoh to Jefferson Davis because they both had crossword puzzles on their desks. The government was desperate to put the blame for Lincoln’s death on Confederate officials, which is why they threw everything they could against the wall, hoping something would stick.
  • The second character collage grouping is called “The Conspirators” and shows John Wilkes Booth, David Herold, Mary Surratt, and John Surratt. I look forward to seeing where the miniseries places John Surratt on the night of the assassination. Will they depict him as being in D.C. that night or up in Elmira, New York, as he always stated?
  • While the actor playing David Herold is talking, there a brief scene is shown of a man emerging from a brick alleyway near Ford’s Theatre, likely meant to be the alley between Ford’s Theatre and the Star Saloon next door. He catches sight of Edwin Stanton and then attempts to run when he is stopped by Thomas Eckert. It all happens so fast it’s hard to tell who that character is meant to be. My best guess is that it is supposed to be Edman Spangler. I hope I’m mistaken, as that scene would be pretty unfair to ol’ Ned. Spangler never attempted to flee from the authorities who interviewed him multiple times before officially arresting him. As one of the few conspirators that most historians agree was innocent of any involvement in Booth’s plot, it’s hard to see him acting as if he had a reason to flee. But I could be wrong about my identification here.
  • Stanton is shown holding a Lincoln mask, complete with strings presumably for attaching to one’s face. I can’t say if masks like these ever existed. This mask is based on a genuine Abraham Lincoln face mold that the President sat for with sculptor Clark Mills in February of 1865. Plaster and bronze copies of this mold can be found in many museums and Lincoln sites around the country. Many folks confuse this mold to be a “death mask” of Lincoln made after his assassination, but it was a life mask made when the President was alive.

Clark Mills’ plaster life mask of Abraham Lincoln. 1865

  • The special effects department did a good job of photoshopping their Booth actor into the famous images of Lincoln’s second inauguration. We know that Booth was present on that day, and in 1956, photography historian Frederick Hill Meserve pointed out a somewhat familiar mustachioed face in the crowd to readers of Life Magazine.
  •  The collage of “The Informants” shows the characters of Mary Simms, “Wallace,” Joseph “Peanut John” Burroughs, and Louis Weichmann. I don’t know who “Wallace” is, but that is the character name actor Josh Stewart plays, according to IMDB. My guess is that this identification is a mistake. My money is that he is supposed to be Mary Surratt’s tavern renter, John M. Lloyd.
  • I’m not trying to harp on it as I’m sure the actress will give a great performance, but I feel it’s important to reiterate that Mary Simms was not at the Mudd farm during John Wilkes Booth’s escape. Mary and her family had been enslaved by Dr. Mudd, but they left the Mudd farm in 1864 when they were freed after the new Maryland state constitution prohibited slavery. Mary Simms did testify at the trial of the conspirators, but her testimony had nothing to do with John Wilkes Booth. She was a prosecution witness against Dr. Mudd, testifying about his Confederate sympathies and disloyalty during the Civil War. Mary Simms did not interact with John Wilkes Booth during the escape. All of the scenes where they appear together or of her at the Mudd house in 1865 are completely fictitious.
  • Since the actual layout of the box at Ford’s Theatre has not been replicated, the assassination scene has been understandably altered. In the trailer, we see Major Rathbone apparently jump down to the President’s box after the shot. Booth slashes at him a couple of times, knocking him back. Rathbone does not appear to make a last-second grab at the assassin’s clothing as he testified. Instead, the miniseries appears to show that Booth gets tripped up by the decorative flags, a common enough version of the events. The portrait of Washington that was affixed to the front of the actual box does not appear to be present in this recreation (or if it is, it does not get knocked to the stage when Booth makes his jump).
  • I do like how one audience member is seen to climb onto the stage and give chase to Booth after the shot. That’s a nice nod to Major Joseph Stewart, “one of the tallest men in Washington,” who was the only audience member to quickly run after the assailant.
  • There’s a scene of a mustache-less Booth riding fast through a village of some sort during the daytime. This is likely another case of dramatic license. After shaving his mustache off at Dr. Mudd’s, Booth made his way under the cover of darkness to Samuel Cox’s home and was then secreted in a nearby pine thicket. Once in the thicket, Booth and Herold’s horses were disposed of. After this, the only times Booth rode on a horse was when sharing it with another person and never at breakneck speed. It certainly helps with the action, though.
  • Mary Simms is shown in conversation with Louis Weichmann, apparently motivating him to disclose all that he knows. As far as I know, Mary Simms and Louis Weichmann never interacted with each other. While Weichmann was arrested and pressed to divulge what he knew about the conspirators, Mary Simms was never arrested. She was only brought forward to testify at the trial a month after the assassination.
  • As we expect with trailers, the last bit is full of quick edits that build up the action. The scenes fly by so fast that it’s too difficult to break them all down. But I am curious as to what urban-looking building is on fire at the 1:45 mark, the identity of the pretty lady apparently tending to Booth at 1:46, and is Stanton holding a baseball in his hand when he embraces Lincoln at 1:34?
  • I enjoyed hearing the cast speak about the series. Patton Oswalt, in particular, seems like he enjoyed his role, which is wonderful to hear.
  • The costuming for all the characters is really well done. Everything looks the period as far as I can see, and the details are exceptional.

I’m not sure if they will tease us with another trailer between now and the miniseries’ debut on March 15, but if they do, I’ll be sure to let you all know. I’m really looking forward to seeing the whole thing in about a month’s time.

In the meantime, Happy Birthday, Abe!

Categories: History, News | Tags: , , , , , | 6 Comments

Manhunt Miniseries Trailer

AppleTV+ released its first trailer today for its upcoming miniseries based on the Lincoln assassination book, Manhunt: The 12-Day Chase for Lincoln’s Killer by James L. Swanson. I have previously written about this new series that is set to debut on the streaming service on March 15. This trailer gives us our first real look into the series, which will focus on the efforts of Secretary of War Edwin Stanton to track down Lincoln’s assassins. Give the trailer a watch:

I had a few initial thoughts while watching this trailer.

  • Anthony Boyle, the actor playing John Wilkes Booth, looks pretty good in the role. He has a decent resemblance to the assassin, much more so than some of the reenactment Booths used in some TV documentaries about the assassination.
  • Booth yells “Freedom for the South” from the theater box. While a limited number of eyewitness accounts claimed Booth might have yelled, “Freedom!”, “Revenge for the South!” or “The South is avenged!” I don’t recall reading “Freedom for the South!” before. It’s certainly not in Swanson’s book. The overwhelming evidence is that Booth said, “Sic Semper Tyrannis!” after shooting Lincoln, though whether this was in the box or on the stage is debated.
  • Stanton is shown learning of Lincoln’s assassination while riding a carriage during a fireworks display. Fireworks are also shown as Booth is riding out of Baptist Alley behind Ford’s. While visually appealing, the Grand Illumination in D.C. featuring fireworks was technically on the night of April 13, not the night of Lincoln’s assassination. Also, Stanton learned of the attack on Secretary Seward first. It was when Stanton arrived at the Seward house to check on the Secretary of State at about the same time as Secretary of the Navy Gideon Welles that he was informed that Lincoln had also been targeted. However, this trailer may be depicting that event as it’s unclear from the clip where Stanton is supposed to be.
  • Booth is shown interacting with and seemingly threatening actress Lovie Simone, who plays the part of Mary Simms. As I previously noted, Mary Simms and her siblings left the Mudd farm in 1864 and were not around in 1865. Booth did not interact with Mary Simms during his escape.
  • The interior of Ford’s Theatre replicates the stage set of Our American Cousin well, but the theater box looks nothing like the real thing. It appears that Major Rathbone and Clara Harris are seated in their own box a few feet above the President and Mrs. Lincoln. It’s too bad the actual box appearance and layout couldn’t be recreated.
  • The overhead shot of Lincoln’s plain coffin being carried down the circular stairs of the Petersen House is an effective one.
  • At the 1:06 mark, you’ll see the actor playing Booth’s slayer, Boston Corbett. The actor’s name is William Mark McCullough. Coincidentally, he played John Wilkes Booth in 2015 Smithsonian Channel documentary, Lincoln’s Last Days.

  • There’s just a flash of the conspirators seated in their courtroom at the 1:13 mark. I can easily make out a hunched and bearded George Atzerodt, but I’m not sure about the other two men visible. Mary Surratt is erroneously shown placed amongst the men.
  • A man is shown in daylight pulling guns on the fugitives and stating, “I know who you are Mr. Booth.” I was uncertain who this figure was supposed to represent, but looking through the cast list on IMDB, it seems this is actor Roger Payano in the role of Oswell Swan. Swan guided Booth and Herold across the Zekiah Swamp to Samuel Cox’s home of Rich Hill. However, this occurred at nighttime, and Swan didn’t know the identities of the men he took over the swamp. He certainly didn’t pull a gun on them.
  • At 1:30, blink and you’ll miss actor Matt Walsh as Dr. Samuel Mudd handing something to Herold and Booth while a servant (likely the anachronistic Mary Simms) watches in the background. From this quick shot, Walsh looks good as Dr. Mudd.
  • The music in this trailer is quite good. I hope the actual show utilizes some of the songs included here.

From this trailer, it’s clear there will be a lot to talk about when the miniseries airs. What are your thoughts on this first look?

Categories: History, News | Tags: , , , , , , , , | 22 Comments

“Who could have done this?” – Christmas, 1883

On December 23, 1883, a tragedy eighteen years in the making occurred in Germany. For the prior nine months, an American couple, their three children, and their nanny had been living in the German city of Hanover. The couple was independently wealthy and often split their time between a home in Washington, D.C., and various long vacations abroad in Europe. Their German neighbors noted that the 46-year-old husband was “shy of human beings” but that they had lovely interactions with his 49-year-old wife and their three children, aged 13, 12, and 11. The family enjoyed life in Hanover as the children were educated in nearby schools.

Then tragedy struck just two days before Christmas. In the early morning hours, screams were heard from the room shared by the couple. The nanny, Louise, who was also the wife’s sister, entered the bedroom in response to the uproar. Louise witnessed a tragically bloody scene before her. Her sister was sprawled on the bed with two bullets in her chest and a knife wound to her heart. Within minutes, the woman was dead.

On the floor lay the husband. He had been stabbed five times, with one of the wounds striking his lung. In severe pain, he cried to Louise and to his wife for help. But Louise was focused on the bed above him. The husband gathered his strength and pulled himself onto the bed. The shock of seeing his wife’s bloody and lifeless body caused the man to scream out to Louise, “Who could have done this? I have no enemies!”

Louise quickly called for the authorities. When the German police arrived, the husband warned them of possible attackers hiding behind the paintings on the bedroom walls. He was taken to a hospital and treated for his stab wounds. Fearful of the well-being of his children, the man begged the police to catch the perpetrator of this violent act. The police informed the husband that the culprit had already been arrested at the scene of the crime. But it was not a man hiding behind a painting that had caused the bloodshed. It was the wounded husband, himself, Henry Rathbone, who had murdered his beloved wife, Clara.

Eighteen years earlier, Major Henry Rathbone and his fiancee Clara Harris had been invited by Abraham and Mary Lincoln to join them for a night at the theater. The young couple were happy to spend a night out with the President and First Lady as the nation was celebrating the effective end of the Civil War. Henry and Clara were seated beside the Presidential couple when assassin John Wilkes Booth snuck into their shared theater box. Before the intruder’s presence had even been detected, Booth fired his derringer pistol at the back of Lincoln’s head, fatally wounding the President.

To his credit, Rathbone reacted quickly. The army veteran grabbed the intruder and grappled with him. Booth took out a long knife and slashed at the Major. Rathbone lifted his arm to block the blade and suffered a deep and painful stab to the arm as a result. When Booth mounted the balustrade of the box, preparing to jump to the stage below, Rathbone reached for him. The Major got a handful of clothing, throwing the descending man off balance to the stage. As cries from Mrs. Lincoln and Clara Harris echoed from the box, Rathbone screamed for someone to stop that man. Others attempted to enter the box in order to render aid to its occupants, but Booth had barred the outer door shut before shooting the President. Bleeding profusely from his stab wound, Rathbone managed to dislodge the wooden bar from the outer door, allowing doctors and others to rush in. The Major nearly passed out from blood loss as all attention was focused on the unconscious President.

Major Rathbone had performed admirably in attempting to subdue the assassin at Ford’s Theatre. He recognized the gunshot and reacted far quicker to it than anyone else in the theater. Rathbone had grappled with an armed assassin at the risk of his own life. He had demonstrated true bravery.

Despite his heroics, Henry Rathbone was forever haunted by the night of April 14, 1865. He came to unreasonably blame himself for Lincoln’s death, even though there was nothing he could have done to prevent the shooting. Still, the event likely caused Rathbone to develop Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, which slowly affected his mental health.

Henry and Clara had postponed their marriage in the aftermath of the assassination out of respect for the martyred President. The couple eventually wed in 1867, and three children were born from their union. The oldest was Henry Riggs Rathbone, born on February 12, 1870. This meant that Henry’s namesake son shared a birthday with the late President Lincoln. Another son, Gerald, was born in 1871, and a daughter, Clara Pauline, came in 1872. When living in Washington, the family resided in a house located in the affluent neighborhood of Lafayette Square. From their home, the Rathbones could easily see both the White House and the home where Secretary of State William Seward was living when he was attacked by Lewis Powell on the night of Lincoln’s assassination.

Clara Rathbone was very much in tune with her husband’s mental struggles. The family’s long vacations to Europe were her efforts to bring about a change of scenery and mood for Henry, and, for several years, these effectively treated his despondency. His children were also a source of great pride to Henry, and he loved them dearly. However, Henry’s melancholic periods increased in length as the years passed. He began to grow more temperamental and aggressive towards Clara at times. In late 1882, as the Rathbones were planning their trip to Hanover, they visited family back in New York for a time. Their extended family all noticed a great change in Henry. Henry would often alter the subject of conversations to that of Lincoln’s assassination, stating his belief that the country had expected him to protect the President. His friends reassured him that this was not the case, but Henry couldn’t be swayed from his sense of guilt. The family also noticed Henry’s increased outbursts of anger. Some advised Clara to separate from Henry for a time or have him placed in an asylum. But Clara felt that Henry was better off in the company of her and their children than in the care of strangers. She loved Henry and felt she was the best person to help bring him out of his instances of paranoia. However, Clara did ask for her sister, Louise, to join the family in Hanover in order to help her with the children and Henry.

Clara Harris Rathbone

The family’s time in Hanover did little to improve Henry’s mood. Henry became increasingly irritable and paranoid. He began to believe that Clara was planning to leave him and take the children with her. Despite her constant reassurances to him that she and the children weren’t going anywhere, he continued to ruminate on the idea.

Henry became increasingly somber and distant in the days leading up to Christmas. Clara noticed the change and feared that Henry might attempt to take his own life. Henry seemed to have completely succumbed to his depression. For years, he had suffered from dyspepsia, a form of chronic indigestion, that had caused him constant pain, though how much of this physical pain was more psychosomatic is not known. Perhaps fearful of another sneak attack like the one he experienced in 1865, Henry slept with a pistol under his pillow. All of Henry’s demons took control of him on the morning of December 23.

At around 5:30 a.m., Henry arose from his bed, dressed himself, grabbed his pistol, and walked down the hall to the room where his children were sleeping. He knocked on the door, which was answered, but not opened, by Louise, who also occupied the room. Henry asked Louise through the door if Pauline was in bed. Louise replied that she was. He then asked if the two boys were in the room as well. Louise affirmed that they were. Henry told Louise to open the door as he wanted to see them for himself. In Henry’s deluded mind, the children had been taken away or were in the process of departing. Not knowing Henry was armed, Louise proceeded to crack the door, hoping the sight of his sleeping children would restore his senses.

Clara, awoken by her husband’s departure from their bedroom, had made her way to Henry by this time. She eyed the weapon in his hand and the look in his eyes. Clara attempted to calm Henry and began directing him back towards their bedroom. She called out to her sister to “lock the door and save the children; there is going to be dreadful work.”

To Henry, this command confirmed his paranoia. Clara was planning on absconding with his children and leaving him alone. He grabbed Clara by the arm and dragged her into their bedroom. Louise locked the door of the children’s bedroom and listened helplessly to the sounds of struggle from the couple’s bedroom down the hall. Louise heard the door of the couple’s bedroom lock and unlock several times. Whether Henry was trying to prevent Clara from escaping or Clara was attempting to keep Henry in the room to protect the children is unknown.

Eventually, Louise left the children alone and went to the couple’s bedroom in hopes of protecting her sister. Henry quickly escorted Louise out of the room and locked the door. Not long after, Louise heard Clara scream, “Henry, let me live!” followed by gunshots and a long silence. A house servant, aroused by the gunfire, joined Louise outside the couple’s bedroom door. Together, they two broke the door’s lock and entered the room. There, they found Clara dying on the bed and Henry with self-inflicted knife wounds on the floor.

Louise fled to her sister, whose last words were, “He has killed us both at last.”

Henry Rathbone’s trial commenced in January 1884. He was adamant that he had nothing to do with his wife’s death and that someone else had broken into his home, attacked him, and murdered Clara. Through interviews with Louise and others, the court effectively established a history of insanity on the part of Henry Rathbone. Rather than sentenced to prison, Henry was committed to an asylum in Hildesheim, Germany. He remained there for over 25 years until his death in 1911.

The three Rathbone children, left without either parent, were taken in by Clara’s brother William Harris, and moved to Ohio. In time, Henry Riggs Rathbone, the eldest child, became a Representative from Illinois and sponsored the government’s purchase of Osborn Oldroyd’s collection of Lincolniana housed in the Petersen House where Lincoln died.

Henry Riggs Rathbone in front of the Petersen House

The story of Henry Rathbone and Clara Harris demonstrates the devastating long-term effects victims of crime can face. Henry Rathbone’s mind was forever scarred by the events of April 14, 1865. His inability to save the President created a sense of overwhelming guilt from which he could not escape. This trauma festered in Henry, devastating his mind. Yet, in the end, it was Clara, not Henry, who paid the ultimate price for this trauma. Clara, herself having suffered the trauma of witnessing the shooting of the President and the stabbing of her fiancee, lost her life in trying to stop the man she loved from harming their children. In this way, both of the Rathbones proved themselves to be selfless and heroic.

While Henry is the one who killed Clara in a fit of insanity, he is not the sole answer to the question, “Who could have done this?” The blood of this Christmas tragedy is also to be found on the hands of John Wilkes Booth.

References:
Worst Seat in the House: Henry Rathbone’s Front Row View of the Lincoln Assassination by Caleb Stephens

Categories: History, OTD | Tags: , , , , | 12 Comments

Manhunt: A New Miniseries

After almost two decades in developmental hell, a miniseries based on James L. Swanson’s 2006 book Manhunt: The Twelve-Day Chase for Lincoln’s Killer is finally going to become a reality. While reports said that filming on the project had been completed in 2022, nothing about the series’ possible premiere date was forthcoming until an article was published on December 13, 2023, in Vanity Fair. The article, titled “Manhunt: First Look at the Long-Awaited Show About Hunting Lincoln’s Killer” can be read in full here.

This article announced that the miniseries will premiere on March 15, 2024, on the streaming platform Apple TV+. Two episodes will be released on that day, followed by weekly releases of new episodes until the finale on Friday, April 19, 2024. This makes seven episodes of the series in all.

The Vanity Fair article provided an overview of the series, highlighting the efforts of those involved in bringing this project to life. I applaud Monica Beletsky, the showrunner and writer, for her dedication to shedding light on the unknown aspects of the assassination. The focus of the miniseries will be on Edwin Stanton, the Secretary of War, and his role as a catalyst for justice. It is refreshing to see Stanton portrayed in a heroic light, especially given the numerous conspiracy theories that have attempted to implicate him in Lincoln’s death.

The role of Secretary Stanton is played by British actor Tobias Menzies. Images provided by Apple TV+ give us our first official look at the protagonist. While I do not believe that actors have to look very much like the historical figures they emulate, I have to state that I am disappointed to see that Menzies was not given a beard for the role. Edwin Stanton wore a very recognizable beard. I understand not wanting to cover up Menzies’ handsome face, but, in my opinion, portraying Stanton without his long skunk beard is like depicting Abraham Lincoln without his iconic stovepipe hat. I suppose it’s a good thing the miniseries won’t be debuting for another three months as that will give me time to slowly come to accept this clean-shaven man as Edwin Stanton.

In addition to covering the process of creating the series, the Vanity Fair article hints at several characters and scenes we can expect in the series. I was excited to read how the character of Mary Lincoln will be portrayed. Showrunner Beletsky states in the article that Mrs. Lincoln “was owed a different portrayal” than prior characterizations of her as merely being crazy, or a burden to President Lincoln. I believe that prior media interpretations (and many historians, for that matter) have been unnecessarily hard on Mrs. Lincoln. Beletsky seems to agree, relating how the loss of her children occurred, “pre-psychology, pre-therapy, pre-understanding of trauma. I asked the question of, ‘How would you behave had you suffered so much loss?’” It will be interesting to see how actress Lili Taylor takes on the role of the First Lady during one of the most traumatizing times in her life.

The article also shows us other interesting visuals, such as comedian Patton Oswalt in the role of Col. Lafayette Baker. The leader of the National Detective Poice was a key ally to Stanton during the hunt for Booth, but his methods and character were considered extreme even to jaded politicians. I’m excited to see how Oswalt is able to capture this scoundrel of a man.

There are also a few historical inaccuracies to be found in the article (aside from Stanton’s beard). Some are small nitpicks, such as an image of Stanton and his son, Edwin Lamson Stanton, apparently on horseback on the hunt for John Wilkes Booth. While Stanton was instrumental in helping to organize the manhunt for the conspirators, he did not take part in the search himself. As the Secretary of War during wartime, he had many other duties to perform as the search was going on. While Stanton occasionally interviewed prospective witnesses, his schedule of cabinet meetings, preparing Lincoln’s funeral arrangements, and sending off telegrams to various generals in the field about the remaining Confederate forces kept him confined to Washington during the manhunt. It’s possible that the caption for the image is merely mistaken and does not actually show Edwin and his son hunting for Booth but merely riding somewhere together. Time will tell.

Another critique I have is the characterization that John Wilkes Booth’s actions may have been motivated by a sense of professional rivalry between himself and his brother, Edwin (or his deceased father, Junius Brutus Booth). This belief comes up often enough, with many others playing on the idea that Lincoln’s death was the result of some intense sibling rivalry between John Wilkes and Edwin. I think many people fail to realize that, in 1865, John Wilkes and Edwin were pretty much on equal footing in terms of fame. Granted, Edwin had some advantage over his brother because he had started his career earlier and he had ingratiated himself into New York City society. In addition, just prior to the assassination, Edwin had finished his historic run of 100 nights of Hamlet. In time, Edwin would be known as one of the greatest actors of his day and is still considered by many as the greatest Hamlet who ever lived, but his legacy was still many years in the making in 1865.

John Wilkes Booth was also a very successful actor, and it was mostly due to his own choice to stop acting in 1864 and 1865, that caused him to cede so much ground, as it were, to his older brother. There was undoubtedly some rivalry between the siblings who were engaged in the same profession, but both brothers enthusiastically supported each other. They performed together on many occasions and celebrated each other’s histrionic achievements. While the two brothers were very far apart politically, I don’t believe that John Wilkes Booth felt too overshadowed by Edwin’s success. Nor do I believe that sibling rivalry had any real influence on Wilkes’ decision to kill Lincoln. However, I accept that this is a valid interpretation for someone to have.

There is also some shakiness regarding the layout of Ford’s Theatre in the article. It states that “Lincoln’s killer could have been lost to history if Booth had quietly slipped away, backed into the corridors of Ford’s Theatre, and escaped anonymously out into the streets of Washington, DC” rather than jumping to the stage in full view of the audience as he did. Anyone familiar with Ford’s Theatre knows there was nowhere else for Booth to go after barricading himself into the corridor leading to the President’s box. A jump from the box to the stage was his only option. Even if he had removed the wooden bar he had placed to prevent entry into the box, he would still have been surrounded by angry audience members until he could get to the back of the house. There was no scenario in which Booth could have “quietly slipped away” after shooting the President as he did. Retracing his steps out of the box would have meant his instant capture.

When I first read the article, the names of the owners of the house across the street where Lincoln died were the “Petersons.” I’m glad to see that someone has since fixed the spelling of their name and the house to Petersen.

Minor issues aside, the article does include one substantive bit of historical inaccuracy that could result in some misinformation. This is associated with the fugitives’ time at the home of Dr. Samuel A. Mudd. The article provides the following image of actors Lovie Simone and Antonio Bell as Mary Simms and her brother Milo.

A good deal of the article discusses the figure of Mary Simms, a young woman who had been enslaved by Dr. Mudd and testified against him at the trial of the conspirators. Mary Simms’ testimony connected Dr. Mudd to Confederate activities during the war and was a key part of establishing his disloyal sympathies. The inclusion of Black witnesses in a criminal trial against white defendants was a historic case, and Stanton worked hard to ensure this would happen. Mary Simms was a brave woman who risked a lot to give her testimony. Her brother Milo (who believed he was only about 14 or so in 1865) also testified about conditions on the Mudd farm.

Both Mary and Milo Simms have a role in the Lincoln assassination story, and I’m happy to see them in the Manhunt miniseries. However, the caption under the images states that the two “grapple with their orders to provide aid and comfort to the fugitive assassin.” In the main article text just below the caption, it states the following:

During Mudd’s treatment, Booth crosses paths with Mary Simms (played by Greenleaf’s Lovie Simone), who was enslaved by Mudd and later testified in the investigation into Lincoln’s killing. “Mary Simms is someone that I came across in the transcript of the conspirators trial,” says Beletsky. “I found her extremely compelling. I knew that she kept house for Dr. Mudd and that her brother was considered Dr. Mudd’s carpenter. So with that in mind, when Booth needs a crutch, I have Milo, her brother, making the crutch.”

The big issue with the caption and the quote above is that Mary and Milo Simms were not at the Mudd farm in 1865. Both Mary and Milo are clear in their testimony that they left the Mudd property in November of 1864, just after the new Maryland state constitution abolished slavery, freeing them. Mary and Milo had no interaction with John Wilkes Booth during his escape, and none of their testimony at the trial had to do with the assassin himself. While the showrunner may have decided to have Milo Simms make Booth’s crutch in the miniseries, in reality, Dr. Mudd stated that the crutch was made by himself and an English handyman who resided on the farm named John Best.

Based on the descriptions in the article, we will have to see how truthful the scenes involving Mary and Milo Simms turn out to be. Any interaction between Mary Simms and John Wilkes Booth would be completely fictitious since she was no longer residing at the Mudd farm when Booth shot Lincoln.

I want to clarify that my intention is not to minimize the effort and creativity of those involved in Manhunt. I understand that historical dramas often take creative liberties to enhance the narrative. Even so-called “documentaries” are often fast and loose with the truth nowadays. However, when these liberties stray too far from the established historical record, they can have a negative impact on the viewer’s understanding of the past and cause more harm than good. It is frustrating as a historian when this happens since there are often just as creative ways of telling the story in ways that are accurate. For example, while Mary Simms was far from the Mudd farm at the time of the assassination, other men and women who were formerly enslaved by Dr. Mudd were there when the fugitives arrived. Thirteen-year-old Lettie Hall and her eleven-year-old sister Louisa Cristie had been enslaved by the Mudds, stayed with them after emancipation, and were at the home when Booth showed up. The two girls cooked and served breakfast to Booth at the Mudd home on April 15. Frank Washington had likewise been enslaved by the Mudds and was still at the farm working as a plowman in 1865. Washington was there when Booth and Herold arrived, and he personally put their horses in the doctor’s stables. When he testified at the conspirators’ trial, Washington was very nervous and was clearly conflicted about how he was supposed to testify. His desire to tell the truth was undoubtedly being challenged by his fear of retribution by his white neighbors if he spoke against the Mudds. These figures and the internal conflicts they had regarding their activities on April 15 would have been very interesting to see represented on screen. But, perhaps they still will be, and I’m getting all concerned about Mary Simms for nothing. We’ll just have to wait and see.

Despite Stanton’s missing skunk beard and the unknown accuracy of the Mary and Milo Simms portions, I remain excited about the series’ potential to reach a new audience and contribute to increased interest in this pivotal event. Though it will mean shelling out for yet another streaming service, I’m willing to throw a few bucks to Apple TV+ to watch a miniseries that I truly thought would never come. Come March 15, 2024, I’ll settle in to watch Manhunt for what I hope will be an engaging and thought-provoking viewing experience that stays true to the spirit of history.

Categories: History, News | Tags: , , , , , , , | 19 Comments

Breakfast with Booth: Cynthia Ann Brooks

This post is the third and final entry in my recent series exploring who might have breakfasted with John Wilkes Booth on the morning of Lincoln’s assassination. The first installment explored the identity of Carrie Bean, a young socialite that journalist George Alfred Townsend claimed shared breakfast with Booth on April 14, 1865. The second post discussed the theory that Booth was joined that morning by his own secret fiancee, Lucy Hale. For this third post, we’re going to consider a third woman to whom an intriguing connection to Booth’s breakfast has been made. Her name is Cynthia Ann Brooks. According to articles from her granddaughter, John Wilkes Booth gave Cynthia Brooks his picture at breakfast on the morning of Lincoln’s assassination.

First, the verifiable facts I have been able to glean about the family in question. Cynthia Ann was the daughter of Joseph and Elizabeth Allen. She was born in about 1812 in Maine. Her family claimed kinship to the Revolutionary War patriot Ethan Allen, who, along with Benedict Arnold, captured Fort Ticonderoga from the British in May of 1755 without firing a shot. As a young child, Cynthia’s family moved to Hamilton, Ohio, a town just north of Cincinnati. At around the age of 20, Cynthia married Eri V. Brooks, a police officer and justice of the peace in Hamilton. The couple had at least five children. In 1850, Eri Brooks died, so Cynthia Brooks and her children moved in with her brother, William Allen.

In 1857, Cynthia’s eldest daughter, Clara Belle Brooks, married a man named Richard Hall. The young couple moved to Superior, Wisconsin, where Richard and Clara’s brother, Eri Brooks, Jr., set up a law firm. The firm eventually moved to Houghton in the Upper Peninsula of Michigan. While Eri became a justice of the peace in the area, Richard and Clara were unhappy with life in the isolated far north. The couple moved to Indianapolis, which was Richard’s hometown. There, in 1859, the Halls gave birth to a daughter, Clara “Carrie” Hall. In 1860, Richard accepted a position as a clerk in the Census Bureau in D.C. As a result, he moved his family to the nation’s capital. Young Carrie Hall would grow up in the bustling streets of Washington.

In 1861, Richard Hall was transferred over to the Pension Bureau. He was employed there until 1864, when he resigned from his government position in order to become a real estate broker. Richard was involved in political matters and took part in events at the city’s Union League. He was a strong supporter of Abraham Lincoln and spoke passionately in favor of the President at the Union League in the lead-up to the 1864 election. During their time in D.C., the Hall family lived in a variety of residences. By 1865, however, the Washington city directory shows the Halls lodging at everyone’s favorite locale: the National Hotel.

Between 1865 and 1867, Richard served a stint as the D.C. Recorder of Deeds. Near the middle of 1867, Richard left the government once again in order to return to his life as a real estate dealer. Not long after starting up his real estate business again, Richard was called for jury duty in the district. On June 13, Richard reported to the courthouse, and, like every American, he tried hard to get out of jury duty. Richard informed the court that, being a real estate agent, “the interests of other persons would suffer, perhaps, a great deal more than my own” if he were chosen to serve on a jury. The court was unmoved by Mr. Hall’s claims that his business could not wait for him to complete jury service.  The court responded that his business excuse “would let off nine out of every ten of the jury” if they accepted it. He was ordered to stay and became one of the prospective jurors for an upcoming trial. Later that day, Richard Hall was interviewed again by the court, with the addition of lawyers from the prosecution and defense. This process, known as voir dire, allows the lawyers to judge prospective jurors’ knowledge of the case and their ability to be impartial based on the evidence. The case that Richard Hall was a prospective juror for was that of the escaped Lincoln conspirator, John Surratt, Jr., who had recently been captured abroad and returned to the United States.

Richard Hall knew that John Surratt’s trial would be a lengthy one, and he had no desire to sit on the jury day in and day out. Thus, when asked by the court if he had already “formed or expressed an opinion in relation to the guilt or innocence” of John Surratt, Richard replied with “Yes, sir; I have.” Pressed further whether his opinion on the case would bias or prejudice him in listening to the evidence and rendering a verdict, Richard Hall stated, “There are some facts in connection with the case that I think would very strongly prejudice my mind.” When asked a similar question by the prosecution, Mr. Hall reiterated that “I would, if compelled to sit as a juror, listen to the facts and to the evidence, but I have no hesitancy in saying that my judgment would be greatly influenced by circumstances.” Richard Hall was trying his hardest to get out of jury duty for John Surratt’s trial, yet his responses didn’t relieve him. The defense made no objection to his selection as a juror, perhaps seeing his honesty as the best they could hope for from a jury pool where everyone had an opinion about John Surratt. Richard Hall did not come across as biased enough to be dismissed.

Jury selection for John Surratt’s trial took much longer than anticipated. June 15 had been set as the cutoff for when the jury had to be impaneled, or else Surratt’s trial could not begin until the next court term. As a result, the prosecution was scrambling to narrow down the possible jurors to the 12 they needed. This worked to Richard Hall’s advantage. On June 15, he was called, once again, to be interviewed for voir dire. However, he failed to respond to his name, with it later being reported that he was “sick”. His absence, combined with the requirement that the jury be selected on this date, meant that Mr. Hall successfully avoided becoming a member of John Surratt’s jury of his peers.

In the 1870 census, Richard, Clara, and Carrie Hall are all recorded as living at the National Hotel. Seven years later, 18-year-old Carrie was engaged to be married. Her beau was a man named Roger Sherman Bartley, and he was the nephew of General William Tecumseh Sherman. The couple’s wedding on December 27, 1877, was a celebrated event that made the D.C. papers.

In addition to the famous general, one of Roger Sherman Bartley’s other uncles was John Sherman, who had a long career in politics. From 1877- 1881, John Sherman was the Secretary of the Treasury, and through this connection, Roger Bartley was able to find employment. In 1880, Roger and Carrie moved to Denver, Colorado, where Roger was assigned as an assistant clerk in the small branch of the U.S. Mint located there. The branch tested and melted down gold into bullion for shipment to other branches. Roger and Carrie made their home in Colorado and had four children together.

In the early 1900s, at least three articles were published in the Denver Post newspaper featuring interviews with Carrie Hall Bartley. The first occurred on October 7, 1901, and was titled “The Souvenir of an Assassin“. This was followed by the article “Booth Gave Her His Picture Day He Assassinated Lincoln” on February 8, 1909. And finally, “Autograph Lincoln Pictures Treasured by Mrs. Welker” was published on February 12, 1917. Carrie divorced Roger Bartley in 1910 and, in 1912, married a Christian Science practitioner named Lloyd William Welker. This is the reason her name has changed in this last article.

In each of these articles, Carrie Hall recalls her time as a young girl living at the National Hotel in 1865. The middle article actually contains an image of Carrie Hall taken when she was a young girl in Washington:

Carrie recounts that her grandmother, Cynthia Brooks, resided in D.C. along with her and her parents during the Civil War. The 1865 city directory and 1870 census confirms the Halls resided at times at the National Hotel. As our previous entries have demonstrated, the National Hotel was often a convergence point for the who’s who of D.C. As a result, Mrs. Brooks had the opportunity to rub elbows with the high society of Washington. In 1864 and 1865, this came to include the famous actor John Wilkes Booth. Carrie stated that:

“My grandmother was a very interesting conversationalist…[she] and John Wilkes Booth, who stayed at the National also, had many lively arguments about the merits of the war, and she was as enthusiastic in her praise of the administration as Mr. Booth was opposed to it… She used to say Mr. Booth was very polished and interesting.”

The three articles also describe Cynthia Brooks’ supposed run-in with John Wilkes Booth at breakfast on the morning of Lincoln’s assassination. Each is a bit different, so we’ll take them one at a time.

“The Souvenir of an Assassin” from 1901 tells Carrie Hall’s story, but she is not quoted in the article. It narrates that Carrie and her grandmother were among the last people at breakfast on the morning of April 14, 1865. This was due to young Carrie feeling ill that morning. John Wilkes Booth was the only other person at the breakfast table with them at this late hour. Apparently, Mrs. Brooks shared with Mr. Booth that the family had plans to attend Ford’s Theatre that night. Before departing from the table, Booth, “gave a penny” to Carrie, “and his picture to her grandmother – both child and grandmother comparative strangers to him – as souvenirs. The penny was spent for candy, but the picture was preserved with a pitiful likeness of the martyred president to offset it.”

There isn’t much more detail in this first article about the interaction, and it portrays Mrs. Brooks and Booth as being relative strangers. In addition, the article implies the image was given to Mrs. Brooks because Booth knew “what part he was to play in the performance” at Ford’s Theatre later that night. However, while assassination was certainly on Booth’s mind, he did not know at breakfast that the Lincolns had accepted the invitation to attend Ford’s Theatre. That knowledge was only conveyed to him when he visited Ford’s after breakfast to pick up his mail.

The 1909 article “Booth Gave Her His Picture Day He Assassinated Lincoln” is the most detailed of the three and includes quotes from Carrie Hall. It is from this article that we learn that Cynthia Brooks was a “prominent figure in Washington society before and during the war of the rebellion” and where the prior quotes about her conversations with Booth come from. Carrie starts her narration with an acknowledgment of the imperfect nature of memory:

“‘I have only a dim recollection of the morning Mr. Wilkes gave that picture to my grandmother,’ says Mrs. Bartley. ‘I have heard it told so often that I perhaps confuse what I have been told with what I actually observed.”

Carrie then recounts that she and her grandmother were late to breakfast on April 14th but that “Mr. Booth was later still.” When he came into the breakfast room, Booth sat down next to Mrs. Brooks, and they talked as usual.

“Well, before he left the table that morning he took from an inside pocket his picture and handed it to her unsolicited. She accepted it graciously but with some surprise, and he remarked that she might like to have it after a while.

She thought it strange since he did not say anything about intending to leave.”

Carrie recalled that her parents and grandmother were planning on attending Ford’s Theatre that night, but they didn’t go because the young girl was sick. They heard the news like everyone else in the city, and Clara Hall woke Carrie up to tell her of Lincoln’s assassination.

“Grandmother said the next day that she understood then why Mr. Booth had given her his picture. She never could reconcile his kind ways and polished manner with the brutal murder of Mr. Lincoln.”

While the 1901 article reproduced the image of Booth that was given to Cynthia Brooks, the process of digitizing it made it difficult to see. From this 1909 article, we can more clearly see that Mrs. Brooks was gifted with a copy of this photograph of Booth:

This article was decorated not only with the image of Lincoln mentioned in the 1901 article but with other images of the Lincoln family as well. According to a throwaway caption, these were “photographs of members of the Lincoln family presented to Mrs. Cynthia Brooks shortly before the assassination of the President.” We’ll address these images again in a little bit.

The final article that I have been able to find comes from 1917, just a year before Carrie’s death. On the anniversary of Lincoln’s birth, the now-named Carrie Welker showed off her collection of images to the Denver Post once again. Carrie is not quoted in this piece, and her story is told by the reporter who interviewed her:

“On the morning of the day Lincoln was assassinated, Mrs. Brooks, who was living at the then famous old National hotel on Pennsylvania avenue, was late for breakfast. As the main dining room was closed, she ate in a small private dining room, just off the main parlor. While breakfasting, J. Wilkes Booth, whom she knew well, entered the parlor, and, seeing her in the next room, entered and sat down with her at the table to chat a few minutes. Before leaving, he said: ‘Mrs. Brooks, may I present you with my photograph?’ And he took a picture from his pocket and gave it to her.”

There is no mention of Carrie having been present with her grandmother at breakfast that morning. The article does recount the story that the Halls had tickets to attend Ford’s Theatre that night but did not go on account of Carrie’s illness.

While there is little information in relation to the story of Booth presenting his image to Mrs. Brooks, this article does add a brand new story revolving around the images of the Lincoln family in Carrie’s collection. According to this 1917 article, Richard Hall was “Lincoln’s friend” who was, “very closely associated with the president.” It continues:

“Shortly before Lincoln was assassinated he had some new photographs taken of himself and the members of his family. He considered these particularly good. Almost at the same hour that Booth was giving his picture to Mrs. Brooks[,] Lincoln presented a set of the new photographs of himself and family to Mr. Hall. Included in the set were pictures of the president, Mrs. Lincoln, Thaddeus [sic] Lincoln and Robert Lincoln.”

This entire paragraph is almost assuredly untrue. Richard Hall was a Lincoln supporter, and perhaps he had been fortunate enough to meet the President at a social function once or twice, but there is nothing to support the idea that the two men were friends. In addition, the images supposedly given to Mr. Hall by the President were not “recent” images of the Lincolns, as stated. The photograph of Mrs. Lincoln was taken in January of 1862, while the portrait of Lincoln in profile dates to February of 1864.

It’s interesting how the images of the Lincoln family increased in importance over the years. In the 1901 article, the portrait of Lincoln was described as “pitiful” and merely an image kept adjacent to the image gifted to Mrs. Brooks by John Wilkes Booth. In the 1909 article, a caption merely states the Lincoln family images were “presented” to Mrs. Brooks, with no statement of by whom. Then, in this 1917 article, the images of the Lincolns are the most important pictures, gifted to Richard Hall by Abraham Lincoln personally. In addition, the article’s title called them “Autographed Lincoln Pictures,” even though there is nothing in the article that suggests any of the images are autographed.

While there’s no reason to believe the part of the 1917 article that deals with the Lincoln images, what about the overall claim that Cythnia Ann Brooks spoke with John Wilkes Booth at breakfast on the morning of the assassination and was given a photograph by the actor? While there were some small changes across these three articles, this part of the story stayed largely consistent over the 16 years.

John Wilkes Booth was known to present his photographs to friends and acquaintances. In fact, on February 9, 1865, Booth wrote to his friend Orlando Tompkins in Boston, asking the man to visit the photography studio of Silsbee, Case and Company in that city for him. He wanted the proprietor, John G. Case, to “send me without a moments delay one dozen of my card photghs… as there are several parties whom I would like to give one.” As much as I would love for Cynthia Brooks to have been the recipient of one of these images, Booth specifically requested not the photograph in Carrie Hall’s collection, but this one of him seated with a black cravat and cane:

After the assassination of Lincoln, this same image would be used on the wanted posters for Booth and his conspirators.

Unfortunately, there is no way to verify the story of Cynthia Brooks and her Booth photograph. Richard, Clara, and Carrie Hall were living at the National Hotel in 1865. However, try as I might, I have not been able to verify that Cynthia Brooks lived at the National or was even in Washington at the time of the assassination. It’s very possible that she did visit D.C. during the war years to see her daughter and granddaughter, but I don’t have any documentation to prove it. In truth, I have been unable to find records of Cynthia Brooks after the 1860 census. In 1871, Clara Hall included her mother’s name on an application for an account at the Freedman’s Bank, insinuating that Mrs. Brooks was still alive at that time, but I have not been able to find her anywhere.

The account of John Wilkes Booth presenting his image to Cynthia Brooks at breakfast on April 14, 1865, is an example of family lore. It’s a story that was passed down to Carrie Hall, who was too young to truly remember the events herself. It could be a real event, or perhaps it was a misremembered story of having seen Booth while the Halls were living at the National Hotel that merely evolved over time.

This series on John Wilkes Booth’s breakfast ends with far more questions than answers. Did he share a silent, but polite meal with Cara Bean? Did Lucy Hale make an appearance and interact with her fiancee for perhaps the last time? Or did Booth dine alongside Cynthia Ann Brooks and her granddaughter before presenting them both with small tokens of his esteem? In truth, we’ll never know the exact circumstances of this meal. All we do know for sure is that this was the last breakfast John Wilkes Booth ever ate as an actor. The next morning, the nation gathered at their own breakfast tables and read the shocking news of how John Wilkes Booth had now become an assassin.


Extra content:

While researching the family of Cynthia Brooks, I came across several interesting things. I already shared how her son-in-law, Richard Hall, was almost a jury member on John Surratt’s trial in 1867. This connected the family to Lincoln’s assassination in two different ways. However, the family actually has a connection to more than Lincoln’s assassination.

According to the article from 1901, Cynthia’s daughter Clara Hall attended the trial of Charles Guiteau in 1881. While there, Mrs. Hall shared a similar interaction with the assassin of President Garfield as her mother did with Lincoln’s killer years before:

“Mrs. Hall was attending the Guiteau trial and was seated facing the murderer. Feeling that he was the center of international interest, and that any little attention from him would be of great moment, Guiteau wrote his name with the customary flourish and handed it over to the surprised lady. Guiteau’s personal vanity stood out strongly to the very moment of execution.”

The article reproduced the autograph Charles Guiteau handed to Clara Hall, including Mrs. Hall’s explanatory notes about it:

The Brooks/Hall women had connections to unstable men beyond their interactions with Presidential assassins. In 1880, Clara divorced Richard Hall after he abandoned her and left D.C. for Tucson, Arizona, attempting to make a fortune as a miner. During a visit back east a year later, Richard Hall was said to have suffered a bout of paralysis in which he “lost his mind”. Richard was committed to an asylum in Indiana and died there in 1882 at the age of 49.

In 1910, Carrie Hall Bartley filed for divorce against her husband, Roger Sherman Bartley, on account of “another woman”:

“Mrs. Bartley testified that her husband packed up his belongings in October, 1908, when they were living in Fort Collins, and went to a hotel, instructing her to vacate the house in a short time, as he proposed to be responsible for her shelter and support no longer.”

After 32 years of marriage, Carrie requested $25 a month in alimony from Roger due to his desertion and entanglements with another woman. The judge ordered that Roger pay Carrie $50 a month instead. After the divorce, Roger Sherman Bartley eventually went on to marry a woman 31 years his junior named Edith Stoneback.

However, Carrie was actually the first of the two to remarry. Her second husband was Lloyd William Welker, a musician turned Christian Science practitioner. Their marriage was a seemingly happy and affluent enough one, as an article from 1917 noted that Mr. and Mrs. L. Will Welker were, “driving one of the handsomest new inclosed roadsters in town.”

Carrie Welker was a Christian Science practitioner like her husband. These are effectively faith healers who attempt to heal illness and pain through prayer. Carrie and L. Will operated out of an office where they met with and prayed with patients. According to Carrie’s obituary, “she was to all appearances enjoying perfect health” while tending to patients on Friday. Then, while at home on Saturday, June 15, 1918, Carrie Welker, “laid down for a few moment’s rest and while sleeping passed to the great beyond.” She was 58 years old.

In 1920, L. Will Welker remarried a singer by the name of Elsa Weffing. Elsa Welker died in 1930. In 1932, L. Will married a fellow Christian Science practitioner named Nelle Carr. Nelle Welker died in 1936. In December of 1937, L. Will married a woman named Agnes Durham who died two months later. Now, when I was relating this history to my true crime podcast-obsessed wife, Jen, she immediately told me that L. Will Welker seemed like a serial killer slowly knocking off his wives. I’ll admit that the numbers don’t look great for L. Will Welker. The fact that Carrie’s obituary stated she was in perfect health before she just fell asleep and died looks mighty suspicious as well. Additionally, there is an account of a man named Claude Poston who disappeared on December 3, 1915. The last place Poston had been seen was at L. Will’s Christian Science practitioner office where he had come for a session. His body was found seventeen days later, frozen solid in a ravine. All of this seems to support Jen’s hunch that L. Will Welker just might have been a serial killer.

But, at the same time, the view of Christian Scientists was that all healing was possible through prayer, so many did not seek out traditional medical help for their illnesses. This led to much higher fatality rates among Christian Scientists. L. Will Welker’s other wives may have died from a lack of medical treatment, believing they could solely pray their way to healing. Elsa Welker was noted to have been in ill health for a year before she died, even though she was only 45. Claude Poston, the man who ended up frozen in a ravine, had been praying with Welker in an attempt to help with his bouts of amnesia. His wife believed that Claude got confused after leaving Welker’s office, stumbled out into the woods, and ended up dying from exposure in the ravine he was found in. So perhaps there is nothing nefarious about the many deaths surrounding Lloyd William Welker. He lived a long life, himself, dying in California in 1959. (Jen still posits he might have been a serial killer, though).

There was one final little nugget I was able to uncover that still needs more investigation. While trying to determine what happened to Cynthia Brooks after her appearance in the 1860 census, I tried tracking down her other children aside from Clara Hall, hoping she might have moved in with one of them. I didn’t have much luck, but I did stumble across an article that mentioned Cynthia’s eldest son, Eri V. Brooks, Jr. As I wrote before, Eri had formed a law firm with his brother-in-law, Richard Hall, in Wisconsin and then Michigan before Richard and Clara moved away. When that happened, Eri Brooks, Jr. stayed in the Upper Peninsula of Michigan and became a judge there. In 1910, a small article appeared in different newspapers stating that a discovery had been made at the Eagle River Court House among the effects of Judge Brooks, who had died several years before. The discovery was a document containing a case from 1857. The case concerned the disposition of a canal boat called the White Cloud. The boat had been ordered seized due to a $40 debt owed by the owners of the boat to a 14-year-old boy. The fourteen-year-old who was owed the money and had brought the suit was a young William McKinley.

I’m not an expert on President McKinley, but I am curious about this suit and whether there is any truth to this article. I’ve reached out to the experts at the McKinley Presidential Library, and we’ll see if they can find anything about this case. If I learn anything about it, I’ll post a comment below at a later date. Still, if Eri Brooks did have this document in his papers, then the Brooks family has a small connection to yet a third assassinated U.S. President.

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