The First-Hand Story of Samuel Seymour, the Last Living Witness to President Lincoln's Assassination.

Samuel J. Seymour was from Talbot County, Maryland. His parents George and Susan Seymour had a farm near Easton, Maryland. He later lived in Arlington, Virginia. He worked as a carpenter and contractor and lived most of his later life in Baltimore, Maryland. He married Mary Rebecca Twilley. 

Samuel J. Seymour

On April 14, 1865, when he was five years old, Sarah Cook, his nurse along with Mrs. Goldsborough who was Seymour's godmother (the wife of his father's employer) took him to see Our American Cousin at Ford's Theater in Washington, D.C., where they sat in the balcony across the theater from the presidential box. He saw Lincoln come into the box, waving and smiling. Later, "All of a sudden a shot rang out... and someone in the President's box screamed. I saw Lincoln slumped forward in his seat." Seymour watched John Wilkes Booth jump from the box to the stage. He remembers that not understanding what had happened to Lincoln, he was very concerned for Booth, who seemd to have hurt his leg in the jump.

Did John Wilkes Booth Really Break a Leg Jumping from Lincoln's Box at Ford's Theatre?

Mr. Seymour gave his account of the assassination to biographer Frances Spatz Leighton. The article was published in the February 7, 1954 issue of The American Weekly.

This is an eyewitness account of one of history’s great tragedies — the assassination of Abraham Lincoln — told by the only living witness left to the fateful drama enacted at Ford’s Theater on the night of April 14th, 1865. The only living witness recreates the drama of that tragic night.

I Saw Lincoln Shot by Samuel J. Seymour

Even if I were to live another 94 years, I’d still never forget my first trip away from home as a little shaver five years old.

My father was overseer on the Goldsboro estate inTalbot County, Maryland, and it seems that he and Mr. Goldsboro has to go to Washington on business — something to do with the legal status of their 150 slaves. Mrs. Goldsboro asked if she couldn’t take me and my nurse, Sarah Cook, along with her and the men, for a little holiday.

We made the 150-mile trip by coach and team and I remember how stubborn those horses were about being loaded onto an old fashioned side-wheeler steamboat for part of the journey.

It was going on toward supper time — on Good Friday, April 14th, 1865 — when we finally pulled up in front of the biggest house I ever had seen. It looked to me like a thousand farmhouses all pushed together, but my father said it was a hotel.

I was scared. I had seen men with guns, all along the street, and every gun seemed to be aimed right at me. I was too little to realize that all of Washington was getting ready to celebrate because Lee has surrendered a few days earlier.

I complained tearfully that I couldn’t get out of the coach because my shirt was torn — anything to delay the dread moment — but Sarah dug into her bag and found a big safety pin.

“You hold still now, Sammy,” she said, “and I’ll fix the tear right away.”  I shook so hard, from fright, that she accidentally stabbed me with the  pin and I hollered, “I’ve been shot!  I’ve been shot!”

When I finally had been rushed upstairs, scrubbed ,and put into fresh clothes, Mrs. Goldsboro said she had a wonderful surprise.

“Sammy, you and Sarah and I are going to a play tonight,” she explained. “A real play — and President Abraham Lincoln will be there.”

I thought a play would be a game like tag and I liked the idea. We waited a while outside the Ford Theater for tickets, then walked upstairs and sat in hard rattan-backed chairs.

Mrs. Goldsboro pointed directly across the theater to a colorfully draped box. “See those flags, Sammy?” she asked. “That’s where President Lincoln will sit.”  When he finally did come in, she lifted me high so I could see. He was a tall, stern-looking man. I guess I just thought he looked stern because of his whiskers, because he was smiling and waving to the crowd.

When everyone sat down again and the actors started moving and talking, I began to get over the scared feeling I’d had ever since we arrived inWashington. But that was something I never should have done.

All of a sudden a shot rang out — a shot that always will be remembered — and someone in the President’s box screamed. I sawLincolnslumped forward in his seat. People started milling around and I thought there’d been another accident when one man seemed to tumble over the balcony rail and land on the stage.

“Hurry, hurry, let’s go help the poor man who fell down,” I begged.

But by that time John Wilkes Booth, the assassin, had picked himself up and was running for dear life. He wasn’t caught until 12 days later when he was tracked to a barn where he was hiding.

Only a few people noticed the running man, but pandemonium broke loose in the theater, with everyone shouting:

“Lincoln’s shot! The President’s dead!”

Mrs. Goldsboro swept me into her arms and held me close and somehow we got outside the theater. That night I was shot 50 times, at least in my dreams — and I sometimes still relive the horror of Lincoln’s assassination, dozing in my rocker as an old codger like me is bound to do.

Two months before his death, Seymour appeared on the February 9, 1956, broadcast of the CBS TV panel show I've Got a Secret. 

I've Got A Secret - February 9, 1956

After arriving in New York City he suffered a fall, which left him with a large swollen knot above his right eye. Host Garry Moore, after bringing Seymour on stage, explained that he and the show's producers had urged Seymour to forgo his appearance on the show; that Seymour's doctor had left the choice up to his patient; and that Seymour very much wanted to go on.

During the game, Seymour was first questioned by panelist Bill Cullen, who quickly surmised from Seymour's age that his secret was somehow connected with the American Civil War, then correctly guessed that it had political significance and involved a political figure. Jayne Meadows then guessed that the political figure was Lincoln, and finally that Seymour had witnessed Lincoln's assassination. Because Seymour smoked a pipe rather than cigarettes, the show's sponsor, R. J. Reynolds Tobacco Company gave him a can of Prince Albert pipe tobacco instead of the usual prize of a carton of Winston cigarettes.

Samuel J. Seymour

He died on April 12, 1956, at his daughter's house in Arlington, Virginia, survived by five children, thirteen grandchildren, and 35 great-grandchildren. Mr. Seymour is buried in Loudon Park Cemetery in Baltimore, Maryland.

Of the many firsthand accounts given in books like "We Saw Lincoln Shot" by Timothy Good, this one by Mr. Seymour has an innocence in his account that can’t be found anywhere else. While Major Henry Rathbone and others give more details regarding the actual event, young “Sammy” gives a unique perspective. We become more connected to this child and his young life. We can empathize in his sense of uncertain fear and even feel the disappointment he must have had when he experienced what a “play” truly was. Most of all, I marvel at Sammy’s kindness and compassion. Ignorant of the context of what had occurred, this boy only wanted to help the man that fell.

Compiled by Dr. Neil Gale, Ph.D.

The Only Lincoln vs Douglas Base Ball Game Occurred on Tuesday, July 24, 1860, in Chicago.

On April 7, 1858, while Abraham Lincoln was arguing legal cases in Bloomington and planning for his upcoming campaign to challenge Stephen Douglas, a small story appeared in his hometown Illinois State Journal. Buried between stories of a ballooning accident in Louisiana and a glowing report of the Illinois wheat crop was a story announcing that “The National Association of Base Ball Players” had been organized in New York a week earlier. It went on to announce that the group had adopted a constitution and that Judge William H. Van Cott had been elected its first president.

From the “Illinois State Journal,” April 7, 1858.

While many people tend to think of base ball as a purely 20th-century invention, it actually is firmly rooted much earlier in our nation’s history. Although historians disagree about exactly when and where it originated, they agree that by the 1840s there were numerous clubs in major cities playing variations of the game we know today.

From “Harper’s Weekly,” October 15, 1859.

Base Ball in the 1800s was Considerably Different than Today’s Game.

In Illinois, one of the earliest games occurred between two amateur teams from Joliet and Lockport in August 1851. To the southwest, in St. Louis, the first club was organized on August 1, 1859, with more quickly to follow. As enthusiasm for the sport grew, it evolved from pick-up games in open lots to purpose-built fields, and eventually, perhaps as early as 1861, into formal stadiums similar on a reduced scale to what we know today.

Just as important as the physical aspects of the game was the role that base ball began to take on within our culture. Displays of masculinity, athletic prowess, and regional pride were key components of the sport’s growing popularity, but its adaptability to other aspects of daily life further expanded its reach. Nowhere was this truer than in the coming together of base ball and politics. In 2012, author Stacy Pratt McDermott provided a remarkable example of this in an essay entitled Base Balls and Ballots: The National Pastime and Illinois Politics during Abraham Lincoln’s Time. 

In the late 1850s, there were three or four base ball clubs in Chicago. The Excelsior club is the most prominent one and was one of the pioneer clubs. In fact, the Excelsior club was formed in 1857 and played games in 1858. McDermott explained how in the summer of 1860 the players of the Excelsior’s were divided into their support for Lincoln or for Douglas during the 1860 Presidential contest. Rather than debate the merits of their respective candidates or their political platforms, the players decided that the President should be determined on the diamond.

On the afternoon of July 24th, the two teams took the field before an estimated 1,200 fans. The game was tight, but in the end, the Douglas team edged out the Lincoln team by a score of 16-14. [Time-Period Rules]

In the following day’s Chicago Tribune Newspaper:

Chicago Tribune, Wednesday, July 25, 1860.

No evidence exists that either Lincoln or Douglas acknowledged the outcome of this contest. However, it becomes clear that even within the anxious political climate of 1860, base ball had firmly established itself within our culture.

“Four Score and Seven” Magazine
Edited by Neil Gale, Ph.D.

Union Lincoln Assassin Sympathizers Face Punishment, April 15, 1865.

Not all Union men mourned the loss of their leader, President Lincoln.

A group of arrested Union Army Lincoln assassin sympathizers being guarded by Union soldiers in Chattanooga, Tennessee, April 15, 1865.
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NOTE: The pencil inscription on the face of the picture mat says: "Assassination Sympathizers at Chattanooga on Receipt of the Assassination of Pres. Lincoln April 15th 1865."

The Nashville Press described this image shortly after it was taken on April 15, 1865. “We saw a photograph yesterday of ten men who were arrested at Chattanooga, Tennessee, last Sunday for expressing pleasure at hearing of the death of President Lincoln,” reported a correspondent, who added, “Upon the breast of each man was a tin plate with the words ‘Assassin Sympathizer’ painted on it.” The men were sentenced to labor on the streets in Chattanooga by day while wearing the placards, and by night they were confined in irons.

The Press identified the men by name. They were a mix of soldiers, government contractors, and citizens. The order of the men in the picture is unknown.

Government employees: E. Jones, R.C. Jones, and James Martin.

18th Ohio Infantry privates: David Alspaugh, Cyrus Leight, Moses H. Matheny, and Henry D. Metzer. 

Citizens: C.G. Moxley (Blacksmith), and S. Moxley

The soldiers were all late war recruits: Leight, Metzer, and Alspaugh were substitutes who mustered into Company K during the last week of March 1865. Matheny mustered into the regiment in February 1864, making him the veteran of the group. 

The four men eventually received honorable discharges. They also hailed from Ohio, the same state as U.S. Congressman Clement Vallandigham, the leader of the Copperhead faction of anti-war Democrats, and a powerful opponent of the Lincoln administration.

A fragmentary period pencil inscription on the back of the mount notes that a lieutenant presented the photograph to a major general.

Compiled by Neil Gale, Ph.D.
Contributer JSTOR