Body of Truth

mourners gathered around a body, mostly shouted in cloth. The soldiers he had expected, after all, the room had frequently hosted Union troops and leaders, Ulysses S. Grant among them. Grant's reception had been hosted there the year before. No, it was the body he found there that was out of place. The mourners continued to weep and wail. Who died? He asked one of the soldiers, the president, sir. The

soldier replied, killed by an assassin. He glanced at the corpse, a man he did not recognize, and, after determining it was not his own body lying in state, Abraham Lincoln awoke. It's unclear how much stock Abraham Lincoln took of dreams He talked about them, sure, but then don't we all His interest seemed more of a curiosity, well, except when they were dark dreams regarding his family. He had had

those dreams before. Once, while traveling, Lincoln wrote a letter to his wife Mary, asking her to make sure their son Tad's pistol was safely hidden. It had a terrible dream, he told her, one regarding guns and their son. He had recalled other dreams too, less violent but disturbing in their own way. On the morning of April eighteen sixty five, he told members of his cabinet about a dream from

the previous night. It had been a recurring dream. Actually, in it, he was crossing a body of water, although he was moving so fast he couldn't tell if it was an ocean or a lake. Abraham Lincoln was an intelligent man, There's no question about that. But there were two things. He was unaware of the significance that someone later place on his dreams, and that this new one, of a funeral in the White House would be his last.

I'm Lauren Vogelbon, Welcome to American Shadows. It was April nine, and Robert E. Lee had just surrendered three thousand Washington residents converged on the city in wild celebration parades with bands playing the Star Spangled banner marched down the streets. Before long, the party moved to the White House lawn. They stood beneath one of the balconies and began to chant speech speech. Unlike the triumphant crowd outside, Lincoln was

more sullen. War was war. After all, it had taken one to bring about the end of slavery, as well as the increasing tension between the North and South over states rights and expansion, but all of that had come at a tremendous price. Upon hearing their continued boisterous chants, President Lincoln stepped onto the balcony and addressed to the crowd. He had often gone against suggestions before to not make himself so public. It was risky, his friends and family

had warned it was dangerous. Lincoln believed in making himself available, though he had found value in it during his run for office. When he couldn't stand in front of a crowd, he made sure to sit for photographers so that people could put a face to the man aspiring to become their president. During his campaign, had even passed out buttons with his picture on them. Since then, he had been

photographed a hundred and thirty times. He hoped it might give the public a better look at the presidency and helped put a face to the wartime efforts. For those who loved him, photos were another form of access, but he also enjoyed the conversation, and so on the night of April tenth, as he looked out into the sea of citizens, he promised them that he would deliver a speech the next evening. We want to hear you now,

someone shouted, and Lincoln smiled politely at their request. He wanted to be sure of his words, though, and he told the crowd as much. He'd be better prepared. He told them to say all he had to say, no mistakes. Someone in the crowd called out, you haven't made a mistake yet. Tomorrow, he assured them he'd give them a proper speech. Then Lincoln remained true to his nickname and

true to his word. The next evening, the crowds returned, despite the misty weather, singing and cheering the White House lawn. He stepped out onto the north portico's second floor balcony to a standing ovation, though he still felt a bit somber, he began his speech more cheerfully. He promised a day of national thanksgiving before moving on to the heart of the matter. After a moment of applause, the crowd settled in to listen to what else the great emancipator had

to say. The nation had a monumental task before it. He told them. The new amendments to the Constitution not only outlawed slavery, but they also granted the right for black and white citizens to access the same public schools and allowed states to enfranchise black men, giving them voting rights. Having heard enough, one man stepped forward, a twenty six year old actor named John Wilkes Booth. He might have lived in the North, but his allegiance had always been

with the South. Lincoln's talk of granting black men the right to vote had been the final straw. Face contorted and fists clenched in fury, he shouted racial slurs that addressed the crowd. Now, by God, I'll put him through today. Those words would get you arrested. Back then, Booth simply stormed off, all the while forming a plan in his head. He wouldn't take the abolishment of slavery, nor black citizenship

lying down. Though his words of running the president through sounded like a plan unto itself, Booth came up with a different idea, albeit not entirely alone. There were initially six men as part of the plot. Two friends and

fellow sympathizers had been aiding Confederate spies. They knew secret roots in southern Maryland, and one of them figured he was physically strong enough to subdue Lincoln if needed, and the plan, it was admittedly a pretty lofty one, abduct the President, take him to Richmond, and hold him for ransom. Lincoln was to be exchanged for Confederate soldiers being held in Union prisons, but when his friends backed out, Booth decided on a different approach, the one he infamously carried

through with on April fourteenth of eighteen sixty five. We're all familiar with what happened that night. The Lincolns entered the Ford Theater Playhouse and made their way to the Presidential Box along with two guests. For the evening. With the Lincoln seated in their walnut rocking chairs and with the audience engaged in the performance of Our American Cousin, Booth snuck in and shot the president in the back of the head. While his wife Mary and guests Henry Reid,

Rathbone and Clara Harris looked on. Rathbone attempted to tackle the president's assailant, Booth, who was carrying a knife as well as the pistol, cut Rathbone from elbow to shoulder. Mary looked down at her dress, now covered in her husband's blood. She and Clara screamed. Making a bold escape, Booth leaped the stage below. Shouts went out to stop him, but Booth fled into the night. As a man hunt emerged, an army doctor and other physicians converged on the presidential box.

Lincoln was bleeding but alive, Barely suspecting the wound would be fatal, the decision was made to move Lincoln to a more comfortable spot. A man with a room for rent across the street from the theater offered it to them, and six men carried Lincoln to the house and laid him onto a bed. Abraham Lincoln died the following morning. Church Bell's toll and people began to mourn further north. The fireworks and celebration had barely ceased when word of

the assassination reached them. A while Lincoln's body lay in state, a photographer's flash went off once more. Afterward, doctor's cut away part of his scalp and removed his brain. As they held it, the bullet fell out. Undertakers worked skillfully, doing what they could to preserve the president's appearance despite the man's devastating head wound, and arranged his features to resemble a man at peace. Then they dressed him and the Brooks Brothers suit had worn on his second inauguration,

along with a pair of white dress gloves. The North thought his death might bring the nation closer, but sadly it did not. Some in the South believed his death might reverse their loss and restore life as it had once been. Thankfully, they were just as disappointed, although that didn't stop many Southerners from expressing their sentiment that Lincoln

had got what he deserved. Back in Washington, scavengers took whatever they could find after Lincoln's body had been moved to a pine casket, scraps of his blood soaked shirt a lock of hair. Doctors who had removed his brain had taken their own morbid souvenirs as well. Around noon on April nineteenth, four days after his death, over six hundred distinguished guests from generals to politicians, crammed into the East room of the White House, where Lincoln's casket sat.

Soldiers stood guard as mourners paid their respects. It was exactly as Lincoln himself had dreamed not too long before. Mary Lincoln and twelve year old Tad stayed upstairs throughout the four days of morning. With so many people coming and going, and considering how her husband had died, Mary took the safer path of grieving in private. Finally, a smaller group consisting of Lincoln's cabinet, the Supreme Court, and Lincoln's twenty one year old son Robert, paid their last respects.

But while we've all heard the story of lincoln'ssassination, what happened next is much less well known. Our story begins ten days after his murder, when Abraham Lincoln's casket was loaded onto a funeral train headed for its final resting place back in his hometown of Springfield, Illinois. Far from a stranger to the public eye, Lincoln would be in front of them once more. Back in Springfield, President Lincoln's former political friends at the State Capital prepared for his interment.

They had purchased a site close to the train depot downtown where they planned to build him a tomb. There was only one problem. They hadn't discussed their plans with Mary Lincoln. Her husband and children had been the center of her life. Obviously, watching her husband die was devastating, but it hadn't broken her. She argued with Illinois politicians that her husband's last wishes were to be buried in the rural Oak Ridge Cemetery just outside Springfield, and she

intended to make sure that happened. Though they disagreed, they had little choice but to oblige. She was, after all, the legal custodian of her husband's body. So on April eighteen sixty five, Lincoln's funeral train, dubbed the Lincoln Special, to hearted Washington. A large photograph of the president had been secured to the front of the engine, just above

the cattle guard. But before reaching its final destination in Illinois, the train was scheduled to make a number of stops in major cities so that mourners could pay their respects. Nearly three hundred people rode the nine car train on any given segment from national and state officials, to military and service personnel, as well as the president's oldest son, Robert. The ninth car was reserved for two coffins, actually one

for Abraham Lincoln and one for William Wallace Lincoln. Abraham and Mary's third son, Willie, as had been called, had tragically died just before Christmas in eighteen sixty two at the age of eleven, the victim of typhoid fever. Abraham had taken his son's death particularly hard, so Mary thought it was best to have Willie reinterred next to his father. Aside from cities slated for public services, the train had

to other scheduled stops as well. Oil lanterns provided light at night, and wood stoves kept the guest cars comfortable. The train needed to make stops for additional oil and wood, as well as water for the trains boilers, and meals for passengers, making the journey even more cumbersome. Over eighty different passenger cars were used to make the seventred mile journey.

Back then, train tracks often had different gauges or widths that required passenger cars to be switched out at various stations. Planners coordinated with newspapers notifying them when the train would pull into their town, not an easy task, as time zones weren't standardized back then. Major locations where the train

was scheduled to stop planned ahead. Cities constructed decorative arches over the tracks and adorned them with flowers and flags, Bells told, cannons were fired, and guns saluted, all to mark the train's arrival. People who lived in those less publicized locations simply gathered along the track. They came from everywhere, traveling by foot, horseback, buggy, and sometimes even other trains, all for the chance to watch the President's train passed through.

Other times, people waited in the dark, holding torches or sitting by bonfires, hoping to be at the right place at the right time. Some dropped to their knees in prayer. Others wept. Parents held children high, hoping they had catch a glimpse of a historic site that they remember for the rest of their lives. And at each stop, armed guards watched over the bodies. Some stayed on the train to guard Willie's coffin while the President's was loaded onto

an extravagant horse drawn hearse. Long processions followed the Hearse from the train station to State Capitals for services in Philadelphia, his body lay in state inside Independence Halls, East Wing, where the Declaration of Independence had been signed. Newspapers reported that people waited upwards of five hours just for the chance to quit. We walked past his open coffin, Many of those who got the chance to pay their respects

walked away, shocked. The corpse before them bore little resemblance to the pictures of the man they had seen. The thinning chin, the sunken face, the dark pallor that had settled on his skin that morticians could no longer disguise. The dead President didn't look how they'd expected to some he did not resemble what they'd call a great man.

The problem, of course, was decay. Embalming back then wasn't what it is today, and by the time the train pulled into Springfield on a particularly hot and May fourth, he had been dead and on the move for nineteen days, all without refrigeration. The mortician on board did his best, but no amount of powder could hide the blotches on the president's face. Those public services had been intended as a way to honor him, but now those involved began

to see it differently. Were they respecting the President or had they disgraced him by parading his corpse across the coast. It's no wonder that Mary Lincoln stayed behind in Washington. Just because we can do something doesn't mean we always should. The two coffins were removed from the train for the last time that Thursday afternoon. An Illinois regiment made their way along the procession route with gunfire salutes behind them.

Drummers marched in a choir saying six horses drew the Hearse, followed by Robert Lincoln and a group of black Americans. The procession marched past Lincoln's home at the corner of Ethan Jackson, and then finally toward the Oak Ridge Cemetery. There, Abraham Lincoln and his son would be laid to rest next to one another alongside a clear running stream. The

afternoon sun shone down bright and hot. Robert and no less than a thousand mourners solemnly stood by as the two coffins were carried from the hearse to a fifteen by fifteen foot public vault. Inside, the walls were draped in black velvet and embellished with evergreen branches. After everything had been through his assassination, the embalming countless days of travel and public viewings, Lincoln's body would finally rest in peace.

Souvenir hunters, though, had a different plan. Within days, an entire company of soldiers had to be stationed at the vault. The hunters took everything near the tomb that they could carry away. Some weren't satisfied with trifles and mementos, though, no, they wanted something bigger, something more personal. But the thing they wanted was beyond priceless. Some might even call it a sacred national treasure. They wanted the body of Abraham Lincoln.

Jim Kennelly had a problem. Big Jim, as he was known to his friends, had been running a profit of all counterfeit business until a recent setback shut him down. His best engraver, a man named Boyd, had been thrown into a prison cell, and to spring him, Kennelly needed some serious leverage. In the spring of eighteen seventy six, Kennelly went to the town of Lincoln, which is about

thirty miles north of Springfield in Logan County. And yes, the town was named after the sixteenth president, but before he became president. Twelve of Kennelly's men called the town their home, including gang leader Thomas Sharp. Other members included Robert Splain, James Fox, James Fox Jr. Benjamin Sheridan, and Vine Williams. Collectively, they were known as the Logan County Gang and were notorious for using counterfeit money. Now the gang all wanted their engraver boyd out of prison, and

Kennelly had a plan to make it happen. They were going to steal President Lincoln's body and then hold it for ransom in exchange for Voyd's release. But while that idea probably sounded ridiculous on paper, recent events had suddenly turned it into a very attainable goal. Oak Ridge Cemetery, where Lincoln's body had been taken at the end of his funeral train journey, dates back to eighteen sixty five

years before the president's death. The site had been chosen for the beautiful topography and a large number of oak trees. Not much had been done in the way of care and landscaping after its creation, though, nor had the planned stone entry or iron gates yet been added. The burial of President Lincoln and his son had changed all that. Three years after their caskets arrived in eighteen sixty five,

construction of the Lincoln Monument began. Then six years later, on September nineteenth of eighteen seventy one, Lincoln and his son were moved from their hillside crips to a more secure location in the cemetery's catacombs. Three years after that, and with lingering concern about the safety of their remains, the bodies of Lin and his son were moved yet again, this time to a marble sarcophagus inside the newly completed monument. It was a historic occasion, and President Ulysses S. Grant

attended the dedication ceremony. At last, Lincoln's remains were safe, and now that the President's body had been moved from its secret, inaccessible hiding place, the gang's outlandish plot was possible. But Kennelly had already made some changes to the plan. Not only would they ask for Boyd's release, that also demand that the governor pardoned him of all charges and fork over a hefty sum of cash to sweeten the deal.

Little by little, each of the men took a guided tour of the cemetery from tomb custodian John Carrol Power Power liked his job and was happy to answer the guests questions. The men couldn't believe their luck. Not only was Lincoln's coffin inside and above ground sarcophagus, but a single padlocked door between the tomb and the burial chamber was all that stood in their way, no digging required. Even better, they learned that no one guarded the tomb

at night that June. They finalized the plan on July three. They would break into the tomb, then move the coffin to a bridge about two miles north. There, they planned to rebury the president until Boyd walked free and they had their cash in hand. The gang leader Sharp was the most excited about the plan and decided to treat himself to a pre victory celebration at a local brothel.

He drank heavily and spent time with Bell Bruce, who knew many of the other gang members as well, and during their time together, Sharp couldn't help but share the news with Bell. Soon, he bragged he and the gang would be rich. Maybe afterward, he said, Belle and the girls would help them celebrate in style. Belle held down a profession viewed increasingly as immoral by much of society,

but grave robbery stealing the president's body. Told another friend of hers, Abner Wilkinson, who just happened to be Springfield's chief of police, and wouldn't you know it, Chief Wilkinson met tomb Custodian Power the very next day and informed him of the plot. Of course, Sharp awoke from his drunken stupor and realized the mistake had made. With their chances diminished and cover blown, he and his gang loaded everything up and skipped town, leaving all their debts unpaid.

Kennely was annoyed, but he still believed there was a way to get the job done, so he headed to Chicago for more professional accomplices, which he found at a shady saloon and pool hall called the Hub. Before long, Kennelly had recruited a man named Jack Hughes who had a long rap sheet for counterfeiting, as well as Jack's friends Terrence Mullen and Herbert Nelson. This time, Kennelly's plan involved stealing Lincoln's coffin and loading it onto a freight

wagon headed to the Indiana shores of Lake Michigan. There they would bury it in the sand for safe. Keyping BOYD would then contact the governor and make the deal his release plus twenty thousand dollars in exchange for the safer turn of Lincoln's body. Kennelly believed the plan was solid, except that the shores of Lake Michigan were two hundred and twenty miles from the cemetery and the trip would

take roughly ten days. Kennelly left the men to sort out those details on their own, but as soon as had left the saloon, things went downhill and what might be best described as a bumbling comedy of errors. One of them, Herbert Nelson, had second thoughts about stealing the president's body and left the group. Mullen and Hughes knew they needed another hand, so they brought in a wise, cracking horse thief named Lewis Swiggles, who was also a

regular of the Hub. Little did the two know that Swiggles had been moonlighting as a government informant to the tune of five bucks a day. The entire idea stunned Swiggles, but he convinced them he was indeed their man, and told the men he had worked as a body snatcher before. The gang decided that November seventh, election night was perfect people would be in town and busy with more important matters. All they needed to do was slip into the cemetery

and break the padlock. But like Bell, Swuggles wasted no time telling the authorities, who in turn informed custodian power, local law enforcement, and even Robert Lincoln, and with that the trap was set. On the night of the heist, the hack saw, Mullen and Hughes brought with them snapped while cutting the padlock, so they spent the next thirty minutes using a file. Once the lock was freed, they stepped inside the tomb. After breaking the seal on the sarcophagus,

they set to work removing the marble. They ran into another snag when they discovered that the lead coffin inside was too heavy to carry, so Swuggles was sent to retrieve their lookout, a man named William Neelie to provide some extra muscle. Neelie, though had been recruited by Swuggles himself and was all so an informant, so when Swiggles

stepped outside the tomb, he gave the signal. As the officers rushed over, one man's gun misfired, warning the gang inside by the time officers entered the tomb, Mullen and Hughes were gone, but the fiasco didn't stop there. Police ended up in a shootout with one of their own detectives, giving the would be thieves ample time to flee. Each of them, though, were later arrested in Chicago. Mullen, Hughes, and Kennely were all eventually charged with various crimes, and

the gang was broken up for good. They'd come within a few heartbeats of making their own misguided mark on the pages of history, but thanks to their own incompetence and a good helping of covert intelligence, Abraham Lincoln was allowed to rest in peace, and after all had been through, that's the least he deserved. Fearing future heists, Lincoln's body was moved several times more over the years before coming to its final resting place in seventeen times to be exact.

The first move took place just days after the failed attempt by Kennelly and his gang. No one notified the higher authorities, though, and that new location a moldy basement right beneath the tomb. From there it was moved to a shallow, unmarked grave in a different basement, where he remained for another decade. When Mary Lincoln passed away in

two she was also buried in the basement. For a good long while, tourists never knew that the sarcophagus they paid tribute too was empty, and very few people knew the real location. In seven, the coffins were hauled from the dingy basement and reburied yet again in a different below ground site within the memorial. Lincoln's three sons, who had also died, removed there too and buried alongside their parents. In nineteen o one, the bodies were moved yet again

when the memorial had to be reconstructed. Then, on September twenty six one, before in turning Lincoln and his wife for the final time, the president's coffin was opened to ensure that the remains inside were indeed his. It was something that had happened four other times to ensure Lincoln was present and accounted for, on December twenty one, eighteen sixty, September nineteenth of eighteen seventy one, October nine of eighteen

seventy four, and April seven. But despite this, theories have evolved over the years that suggests the president's body doesn't lie in the tomb at all. With such a weird and twisted journey to the grave, it's easy to see why some people would have their doubts. Some suspected that Robert Lincoln's visit in eighteen seventy one was part of an elaborate ruse to throw off further attempts at stealing

the president's body. The rumors state he had made a arrangements with the Guard of Honor to have his father's body hidden elsewhere. Yet by all accounts, twenty three people were present when the tomb was last opened in n one. Witnesses stated that even after thirty years, President Abraham Lincoln was instantly recognizable. His hair and beard had been perfectly preserved, and it's no wonder when you think about it, to keep him presentable during all those stops on the funeral train.

He had been embalmed enough times that he had become mummified. The fabric of his suit and the gloves on his hands had molded, and across his chest there were still fragments of the American flag that had been buried with him. When all the moving and rebottles were done, Lincoln's body was safe beneath ten feet of concrete. That didn't stop souvenir hunters, though, when the tomb needed reconstruction. In one they chipped away pieces of the original marble sarcophagus while

it sat outside. The tune m They say, you are in death as you were in life. Abraham Lincoln had made himself widely available to the public during his presidency, and in odd ways he probably never dreamed of. It seems he continued to do so even in death. There's more to this story. Stick around after this brief sponsor break to hear all about it. Abraham and Mary Lincoln had four sons together, Robert, Edward, Willie, and Tad. The Lincoln's were very fond of children, and it was said

they weren't overly strict with their sons. Sadly, Robert was the only one to survive into adulthood. His younger brother Eddie died of tuberculosis, Willie died of typhoid, and although Tad survived his father, he passed away when he was just eighteen. Reports vary on the cause of his death, tuberculosis, pneumonia, even heart disease. Robert resigned his post in the U. S Army a month after his father's funeral, and moved to Chicago to care for his distraught mother. Eventually, Robert

married and had children of his own. Following in his father's footsteps, he practiced law and even started his own successful firm. He remained active in politics too. Although he never ran for office, he did take the post of Secretary of War President James Garfield in one Despite the family's tragedies, it all sounds as though the rest of Robert Lincoln's life was charmed. Robert, however, believed something different.

To him. It was cursed. Ec In July, Robert was traveling with President Garfield, who had barely been in office for two months. As they waited at the Washington train station, a lone gunman shot the president. Garfield never fully recovered and died a couple of months later. Then, in nineteen o one, Robert Lincoln accepted President William mc kinley's invitation to join him in Buffalo, New York for the Pan

American Exposition. While they were there, a gunman shot McKinley in the abdomen and chest, killing him in front of a group of well wishers. Many years later, Roberts said that there was a certain fatality about the presidential function whenever he was present. Sometimes real life is stranger than fiction, and sometimes it gets even stranger. One day in late eighteen sixty four, Robert Lincoln stood on a train platform in New Jersey with a crowd of other travelers making

their own connections. He had been away on a trip to New York, and he was ready to head back home to Washington. Standing at the edge of the busy platform, he leaned his back against a train car to let other passengers squeeze by, and that's when the train lurched forward. Unable to regain his back, he pitched backward. At the last moment, another passenger reached out and grabbed Lincoln's collar,

pulling him to safety. The stranger didn't recognize the president's son, but Robert Lincoln recognized him, even if he couldn't put a name to the face. The older man had been a devoted Union supporter during the war and was a staunch admirer of Robert's father. Lincoln thanked the man for saving his life, and then the two went on their way. It was only later that Robert Lincoln's savior was identified thanks to a mutual friend who worked for the Union Army.

The stranger had been an actor who came from a whole family of famous stage performers, including his brother John Wilkes. His name was Edwin Edwin Booth. American Shadows is hosted by Lauren Vogelbaum. This episode, it was written by Michelle Muto with researcher Robin Miniter, and produced by Miranda Hawkins and Trevor Young, with executive producers Aaron Minky, Alex Williams, and Matt Frederick. To learn more about the show, visit

Grim and Mild dot com. For more podcasts from my Heart Radio, visit the I Heart Radio app, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you get your podcasts.