Killing Lincoln - Bill O'Reilly [60]
“At least bring a guard with you,” Stanton pleads, once it becomes obvious that Lincoln will not be dissuaded. That statement is the best evidence we have that Secretary of War Stanton did not wish Lincoln ill. If, as some conspiracy theorists believe, Stanton wished Lincoln dead, why would he want to provide him with protection?
The president is in a playful mood. “Stanton,” Lincoln says, “did you know that Eckert can break a poker over his arm?”
Major Thomas T. Eckert is the general superintendent of the Military Telegraph Corps. He once demonstrated the shoddy nature of the War Department’s fireplace irons by breaking the defective metal rods over his left forearm.
“Why do you ask such a question?” Stanton replies, mystified.
“Stanton, I have seen Eckert break five pokers, one after the other, over his arm, and I am thinking that he would be the kind of man who would go with me this evening. May I take him?”
“Major Eckert has a great deal of work to do. He can’t be spared.”
“Well, I will ask the major himself,” Lincoln responds.
But Eckert knows better than to cross Stanton. Despite a barrage of good-natured pleading by the president, Eckert says he cannot attend the theater that evening.
His business with Stanton concluded, Lincoln wraps his shawl tightly around his shoulders and marches back to the White House for his cabinet meeting.
CHAPTER THIRTY
FRIDAY, APRIL 14, 1865
WASHINGTON, D.C.
10:30 A.M.
Lincoln’s messenger reaches Ford’s at 10:30 A.M. “The president of the United States would like to formally request the state box for this evening—if it is available,” the note reads.
The state box is available, James Ford immediately responds, barely containing his excitement. He races into the manager’s office to share the good news with his brother Harry and then barks the order for the stage carpenter to come see him right this instant.
Ford’s may be the city’s preeminent stage, but business has been extremely slow this week. The postwar jubilation means that Washington’s theatergoers are making merry on the streets, not penned together inside watching a show. In fact, Ford had been anticipating yet another dismal night. Our American Cousin is no match for the Grover’s Aladdin, which has been made all the more spectacular by the postshow victory rally, thus allowing audience members to watch a play and make merry. Ford can almost hear the actors’ words echoing off empty seats, and the punch lines that will receive a yawn instead of the guffaw a packed and energized theater so often guarantees. But now, with word that the president will be in the audience, the night should be a sellout.
Ford’s was originally known as the First Baptist Church of Washington. When the Baptists moved out, in 1861, James’s brother John purchased the building and turned it into a playhouse. When Ford’s Athenaeum was destroyed by fire in 1862, some said it was God’s will, because many churchgoers considered the theater to be the devil’s playground. But John Ford was undeterred. He not only rebuilt the great brick building; he reshaped it into the nation’s most modern theater.
Ford’s Theatre, 1865
Ford’s reopened to rave reviews in August 1863. The building is flanked on either side by taverns—the Greenback Saloon to the left and Taltavul’s Star Saloon to the right—so that theatergoers can pop next door for a drink at intermission. The outside of the theater itself features five decorative archways. Patrons enter through the center arch, leading directly into the ticket booth and lobby. The steps leading up from the street are granite. The unpaved streets are often muddy this time of year, so Ford has built a wooden ramp from the street into the lobby. This ensures that ladies won’t soil their evening wear when stepping out of their carriages.
Inside, three seating levels face the stage. Gas lamps light the auditorium until the curtain falls, when they are dimmed by a single backstage valve. The chairs