Lincoln's Missing Bodyguard

What happened to Officer John Parker, the man who chose the wrong night to leave his post at Ford's Theater?

  • By Paul Martin
  • Smithsonian.com, April 08, 2010, Subscribe
 
Abraham Lincoln assassination at Fords Theatre After President Lincoln settled in to enjoy Our American Cousin at Ford's Theatre, his guard left to drink at a nearby saloon, leaving Lincoln vulnerable.

Bettmann / Corbis

 

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    When a celebrity-seeking couple crashed a White House state dinner last November, the issue of presidential security dominated the news. The Secret Service responded by putting three of its officers on administrative leave and scrambled to reassure the public that it takes the job of guarding the president very seriously. “We put forth the maximum effort all the time,” said Secret Service spokesman Edwin Donovan.

    That kind of dedication to safeguarding the president didn’t always exist. It wasn’t until 1902 that the Secret Service, created in 1865 to eradicate counterfeit currency, assumed official full-time responsibility for protecting the president. Before that, security for the president could be unbelievably lax. The most astounding example was the scant protection afforded Abraham Lincoln on the night he was assassinated. Only one man, an unreliable Washington cop named John Frederick Parker, was assigned to guard the president at Ford’s Theatre on April 14, 1865.

    Today it’s hard to believe that a single policeman was Lincoln’s only protection, but 145 years ago the situation wasn’t that unusual. Lincoln was cavalier about his personal safety, despite the frequent threats he received and a near-miss attempt on his life in August 1864, as he rode a horse unescorted. He’d often take in a play or go to church without guards, and he hated being encumbered by the military escort assigned to him. Sometimes he walked alone at night between the White House and the War Department, a distance of about a quarter of a mile.

    John Parker was an unlikely candidate to guard a president—or anyone for that matter. Born in Frederick County, Virginia, in 1830, Parker moved to Washington as a young man, originally earning his living as a carpenter. He became one of the capital’s first officers when the Metropolitan Police Force was organized in 1861. Parker’s record as a cop fell somewhere between pathetic and comical. He was hauled before the police board numerous times, facing a smorgasbord of charges that should have gotten him fired. But he received nothing more than an occasional reprimand. His infractions included conduct unbecoming an officer, using intemperate language and being drunk on duty. Charged with sleeping on a streetcar when he was supposed to be walking his beat, Parker declared that he’d heard ducks quacking on the tram and had climbed aboard to investigate. The charge was dismissed. When he was brought before the board for frequenting a whorehouse, Parker argued that the proprietress had sent for him.

    In November 1864, the Washington police force created the first permanent detail to protect the president, made up of four officers. Somehow, John Parker was named to the detail. Parker was the only one of the officers with a spotty record, so it was a tragic coincidence that he drew the assignment to guard the president that evening. As usual, Parker got off to a lousy start that fateful Friday. He was supposed to relieve Lincoln’s previous bodyguard at 4 p.m. but was three hours late.

    Lincoln’s party arrived at the theater at around 9 p.m. The play, Our American Cousin, had already started when the president entered his box directly above the right side of the stage. The actors paused while the orchestra struck up “Hail to the Chief.” Lincoln bowed to the applauding audience and took his seat.

    Parker was seated outside the president’s box, in the passageway beside the door. From where he sat, Parker couldn’t see the stage, so after Lincoln and his guests settled in, he moved to the first gallery to enjoy the play. Later, Parker committed an even greater folly: At intermission, he joined the footman and coachman of Lincoln’s carriage for drinks in the Star Saloon next door to Ford’s Theatre.

    John Wilkes Booth entered the theater around 10 p.m.. Ironically, he’d also been in the Star Saloon, working up some liquid courage. When Booth crept up to the door to Lincoln’s box, Parker’s chair stood empty. Some of the audience may not have heard the fatal pistol shot, since Booth timed his attack to coincide with a scene in the play that always sparked loud laughter.


    When a celebrity-seeking couple crashed a White House state dinner last November, the issue of presidential security dominated the news. The Secret Service responded by putting three of its officers on administrative leave and scrambled to reassure the public that it takes the job of guarding the president very seriously. “We put forth the maximum effort all the time,” said Secret Service spokesman Edwin Donovan.

    That kind of dedication to safeguarding the president didn’t always exist. It wasn’t until 1902 that the Secret Service, created in 1865 to eradicate counterfeit currency, assumed official full-time responsibility for protecting the president. Before that, security for the president could be unbelievably lax. The most astounding example was the scant protection afforded Abraham Lincoln on the night he was assassinated. Only one man, an unreliable Washington cop named John Frederick Parker, was assigned to guard the president at Ford’s Theatre on April 14, 1865.

    Today it’s hard to believe that a single policeman was Lincoln’s only protection, but 145 years ago the situation wasn’t that unusual. Lincoln was cavalier about his personal safety, despite the frequent threats he received and a near-miss attempt on his life in August 1864, as he rode a horse unescorted. He’d often take in a play or go to church without guards, and he hated being encumbered by the military escort assigned to him. Sometimes he walked alone at night between the White House and the War Department, a distance of about a quarter of a mile.

    John Parker was an unlikely candidate to guard a president—or anyone for that matter. Born in Frederick County, Virginia, in 1830, Parker moved to Washington as a young man, originally earning his living as a carpenter. He became one of the capital’s first officers when the Metropolitan Police Force was organized in 1861. Parker’s record as a cop fell somewhere between pathetic and comical. He was hauled before the police board numerous times, facing a smorgasbord of charges that should have gotten him fired. But he received nothing more than an occasional reprimand. His infractions included conduct unbecoming an officer, using intemperate language and being drunk on duty. Charged with sleeping on a streetcar when he was supposed to be walking his beat, Parker declared that he’d heard ducks quacking on the tram and had climbed aboard to investigate. The charge was dismissed. When he was brought before the board for frequenting a whorehouse, Parker argued that the proprietress had sent for him.

    In November 1864, the Washington police force created the first permanent detail to protect the president, made up of four officers. Somehow, John Parker was named to the detail. Parker was the only one of the officers with a spotty record, so it was a tragic coincidence that he drew the assignment to guard the president that evening. As usual, Parker got off to a lousy start that fateful Friday. He was supposed to relieve Lincoln’s previous bodyguard at 4 p.m. but was three hours late.

    Lincoln’s party arrived at the theater at around 9 p.m. The play, Our American Cousin, had already started when the president entered his box directly above the right side of the stage. The actors paused while the orchestra struck up “Hail to the Chief.” Lincoln bowed to the applauding audience and took his seat.

    Parker was seated outside the president’s box, in the passageway beside the door. From where he sat, Parker couldn’t see the stage, so after Lincoln and his guests settled in, he moved to the first gallery to enjoy the play. Later, Parker committed an even greater folly: At intermission, he joined the footman and coachman of Lincoln’s carriage for drinks in the Star Saloon next door to Ford’s Theatre.

    John Wilkes Booth entered the theater around 10 p.m.. Ironically, he’d also been in the Star Saloon, working up some liquid courage. When Booth crept up to the door to Lincoln’s box, Parker’s chair stood empty. Some of the audience may not have heard the fatal pistol shot, since Booth timed his attack to coincide with a scene in the play that always sparked loud laughter.

    No one knows for sure if Parker ever returned to Ford’s Theatre that night. When Booth struck, the vanishing policeman may have been sitting in his new seat with a nice view of the stage, or perhaps he had stayed put in the Star Saloon. Even if he had been at his post, it’s not certain he would have stopped Booth. “Booth was a well-known actor, a member of a famous theatrical family,” says Ford’s Theatre historical interpreter Eric Martin. “They were like Hollywood stars today. Booth might have been allowed in to pay his respects. Lincoln knew of him. He’d seen him act in The Marble Heart, here in Ford’s Theatre in 1863.”

    A fellow presidential bodyguard, William H. Crook, wouldn’t accept any excuses for Parker. He held him directly responsible for Lincoln’s death. “Had he done his duty, I believe President Lincoln would not have been murdered by Booth,” Crook wrote in his memoir. “Parker knew that he had failed in duty. He looked like a convicted criminal the next day.” Parker was charged with failing to protect the president, but the complaint was dismissed a month later. No local newspaper followed up on the issue of Parker’s culpability. Nor was Parker mentioned in the official report on Lincoln’s death. Why he was let off so easily is baffling. Perhaps, with the hot pursuit of Booth and his co-conspirators in the chaotic aftermath, he seemed like too small a fish. Or perhaps the public was unaware that a bodyguard had even been assigned to the president.

    Incredibly, Parker remained on the White House security detail after the assassination. At least once he was assigned to protect the grieving Mrs. Lincoln before she moved out of the presidential mansion and returned to Illinois. Mrs. Lincoln’s dressmaker, former slave Elizabeth Keckley, recalled the following exchange between the president’s widow and Parker: “So you are on guard tonight,” Mrs. Lincoln yelled, “on guard in the White House after helping to murder the President.”

    “I could never stoop to murder,” Parker stammered, “much less to the murder of so good and great a man as the President. I did wrong, I admit, and have bitterly repented. I did not believe any one would try to kill so good a man in such a public place, and the belief made me careless.”

    Mrs. Lincoln snapped that she would always consider him guilty and ordered him from the room. Some weeks before the assassination, she had written a letter on Parker’s behalf to exempt him from the draft, and some historians think she may have been related to him on her mother’s side.

    Parker remained on the Metropolitan Police Force for three more years, but his shiftlessness finally did him in. He was fired on August 13, 1868, for once again sleeping on duty. Parker drifted back into carpentry. He died in Washington in 1890, of pneumonia. Parker, his wife and their three children are buried together in the capital’s Glenwood Cemetery—on present-day Lincoln Road. Their graves are unmarked. No photographs have ever been found of John Parker. He remains a faceless character, his role in the great tragedy largely forgotten.


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    Comments (76)

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    O.k. Parker and Crook. Was one of the other two Presidential bodyguards named Hugh McHugh? My grandmother had a conspiricy theory that she shared with me that included a man named Hugh McHugh, who may have later worked for Pinkerton. Thanks.

    Posted by R. Bricco on February 6,2012 | 01:41 AM

    I was always interested in the door which led to the Presidential Box at Ford's theatre. When I was about 10, I remember taking a field trip to the Smithsonian and on display was the door to the Presidential box. In that door was drilled a hole, which I was told Booth used to see the President's location. I've search the internet and I can not find any theories on who drilled this hole. Was it Booth? And with the President deciding last minute to attend this play, who would have had the time or planned out this smallest detail with Booth?

    Posted by Tommy on January 17,2012 | 02:25 PM

    This is truly a shocking example of how incompetents who could not do their jobs have affected history.

    Posted by harvey garod on December 26,2011 | 05:13 PM

    I would be grateful for any and all information on John Fredrick Parker. Before Lincoln was killed, during Parkers time as a Policeman and after his time as a policeman.

    I am also looking for a photograph of Parker. Please include credits. Although I have no intention at this to do anything with this nformation other then to put it together, I like to have the history of the information for my files.

    Thank You in Advance,

    Chuck Gallagher
    mpdchistory1861@yahoo.com

    Posted by Chuck Gallagher on November 29,2011 | 07:11 PM

    Establishment of the Washington Metropolitan Police Force 150 Years Ago. http://civilwarwashingtondc1861-1865.blogspot.com/2011/09/establishment-of-washington.html

    Posted by Steven on September 15,2011 | 10:48 PM

    When Mary Todd Lincoln woke John Parker up, and queried him as to what he was dreaming; he didn't really tell her he was dreaming of being America's first Air Traffic Controller. Really?

    Posted by focusoninfinity on April 19,2011 | 01:03 AM

    Major Henry Rathbone and his fiancée Clara Harris were also in the Presidential box that evening. Years later, they got married and while on living in Germany as a U.S. diplomat, Rathbone killed his wife. His mental health had been deteriorating in the previous years. -- He lived the rest of his life in a mental institution in Germany and was buried next to his wife. -- In 1952, due to lack of interest in his grave, the cemetery caretakers in Germany decided to dispose of their remains.

    Posted by Mark Lloret on February 6,2011 | 08:38 AM

    Was the derringer pistol used have a ball, or bullet?

    Posted by sonbons on February 2,2011 | 03:36 PM

    President Lincoln had dreams and prophecy about his death. He predicted it . very good article btw

    Posted by ashley shaw on July 9,2010 | 01:48 AM

    It was my understanding from a book I read that Lincoln actually requested Parker that night while sitting at the telegraph office earlier in the day. That along with Mary's recommendation might substantiate that he was indeed related to Mary somehow. Also his not being fired with all of the offences prior to that fateful night indicates that he was connected to someone high up.

    Posted by kelley on July 7,2010 | 04:35 PM

    One point not mentioned that I found interesting; if there was a family connection between Mary Todd Lincoln and Officer Parker, could that be why he was allowed so much leaniancy?

    Posted by Susan Frindt on June 27,2010 | 03:45 PM

    All though I'm from England I love American history and this article was fascinating. Just think if Lincoln had survived quite alot would have changed in the present.

    Posted by George on May 26,2010 | 08:46 AM

    I think Booth counted on his celebrity allowing him access to Lincoln. He had the assassination exquisitely timed, so I don't think he was worried about not getting in. Remember too that Grant was originally supposed to be there as well. I believe Booth felt like Ford's Theater was "home turf" to him. He knew it and the play by heart.

    Also, with regard to Mudd, some of his relatives have tried to clear his name, but he was IMO, guilty. He knew Booth beforehand and it is likely he was aware of the host of conspiracies Booth had planned over the years (mostly kidnapping Lincoln). He was in Confederate-sympathizing territory. That part of MD was full of spies and anti-Union activity.

    Posted by Lisa on May 8,2010 | 01:20 PM

    Excellent article. Always the little details that are most important.

    Posted by Paul bell on May 4,2010 | 05:19 AM

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