Book Excerpt
almost in reach of fame
On the afternoon of Good Friday, April 14, 1865, prominent Washington City lawyer Joseph B. Stewart was walking home from his office when he passed near Ford’s Theatre and suddenly realized he had forgotten to purchase tickets for Our American Cousin, as he promised his family earlier in the day. The performance that evening would be the one thousandth and final run of the play starring Laura Keene, the luminary English actress and theater manager who achieved wide acclaim in America. As an added bonus, President Abraham Lincoln and General Ulysses S. Grant would be in attendance.
Stewart could be excused for his absent-mindedness. In addition to the maelstrom surrounding the end of the Civil War, he had urgent personal and business affairs preoccupying his mind. Before departing his office, Stewart sent a letter to Thomas C. Durant, the vice president and general manager of Union Pacific Railroad, introducing him to a Texas political operative who had access to Confederate cotton—with Stewart vouching for him as “a gentleman worthy of the highest confidence and respects and whose word can be relied upon for all purposes.” Stewart hurried inside Ford’s Theatre and the ticket agent informed him the best remaining block of seats was in the front row of the orchestra section. He purchased four tickets at one dollar each—compared to twenty-five cents in the family circle—before returning to his home on 349 K Street. Stewart disliked sitting so close to the orchestra, but he still looked forward to a well-needed comedy.
By the time Stewart sat down to the play, he had already lived a consequential life as a firsthand witness to key moments that shaped America’s first century. He would live another lifetime that night at Ford’s Theatre. As a lawyer, lobbyist, political booster, and railroad executive, Stewart would become involved in so many more impactful events over the subsequent decades that many of his obituaries did not even mention him chasing Lincoln’s assassin. Despite having access to presidents, cabinet officials, senators, business tycoons, and other notables—and despite the numerous controversies he endured—Joseph B. Stewart remains largely forgotten to history. This is partly explained by the backroom nature of how Stewart operated, obscured in the shadows of more prominent figures. Nonetheless, as the nucleus of history often forms in the shadows, Joseph B. Stewart’s story is compelling in its own right.
The conventional account of Lincoln’s assassination holds that the audience at Ford’s Theatre remained frozen in their seats as John Wilkes Booth alighted on the stage, shouted “Sic semper tyrannis!” and ran out of the building. This is mostly true—but Stewart is a notable exception. There is something cathartic about Stewart seeing through the confusion and chasing Booth out the theater. We cannot change how that terrible night ended, but Stewart allows us to imagine what might have happened had he seized Booth and immediately delivered him to justice. With Joseph B. Stewart, we can take a small measure of comfort that President Lincoln did not suffer the fatal blow with the audience completely sitting down.
The most intriguing question about Stewart is what motivated him to act. What was unique about him—among the fifteen hundred theatergoers—that impelled him to spring from his seat and pursue the assassin? Considering the wide historical fascination with Lincoln’s killing—of which there are over 120 books, and counting, on the subject—it is natural to assume at least one historian has published Stewart’s actions in minute detail. But this is not the case, and a standard internet search does not glean much insight. Nevertheless, underneath the surface and scattered among many primary sources, Stewart’s life reads like a veritable highlight reel of nineteenth century America.
From the frontiers of Kentucky and Kansas to the urban sprawl of Washington, D.C. and New York City, Stewart was an active participant in America’s uneven growth across the continent and onto the world stage. He felt the republic’s cultural cleavages firsthand in Louisville, and he backed presidents Lincoln and Grant through Union victory. He was intimate with the key players in the transcontinental railroad, and as a lobbyist, he paid a heavy price after its completion. His business ventures exposed him to racial inequality and lingering injustice in the Reconstruction South. His meddling contributed to the ouster of US and foreign officials, and the imperiling of a major treaty with a fledgling ally. He saw vast fortunes come and go, and—with the workings of several notorious colleagues —experienced scandal and misfortune. Through his successes and failures, Stewart’s intrigues provide unique insights into what really happened behind closed doors within the corridors of power.
The answer to what compelled Joseph B. Stewart is far more complex than the idealistic notion of him being America’s almost-hero following President Lincoln’s assassination. Though Stewart was afflicted with the familiar vices that befell more powerful and better-known men, it would be equally facile to dismiss him as merely a corrupt and greedy lobbyist. Stewart was, after all, an influential lawyer in the nation’s political and financial capitals during a consequential time in American history. There are still lessons to glean from the almost-hero, or the flawed notable who stumbles in the arena. And beyond the lessons found in the arc of Joseph B. Stewart’s story, the wider implication is how the events he encountered mirror the challenges America faces today.