THE FIRST LADY'S SEANCES

Weird White House Days with Florence Harding

Stories of ghosts, hauntings, and séances have long swirled about the White House. The spirits of several former presidents are rumored to walk the halls of this stately building. Many of those presidents expressed an interest in Spiritualism and the occult, including Franklin Pierce and Abraham Lincoln, during their lifetimes, and others claimed to witness the spirits of their predecessors while in office. A few of the First Ladies who accompanied their husbands into office also had connections to the supernatural. Mary Lincoln was famous for the séances that she attended after the death of her son, Willie, and her devout in Spiritualism after the death of her husband.

But there is no First lady who was more expert on the occult, or believed more thoroughly in the supernatural, than Florence Harding, wife of scandal-battered President Warren G. Harding.

First Lady Florence Harding

During his time in office, Harding was a popular president, but his reputation was tarnished after his death when Americans learned of the corruption that occurred during his administration. Even though Harding himself was never accused of criminal wrongdoing, it was during this time that the Teapot Dome Scandal came to light. The incident involved Secretary of State Albert Fall, who rented public lands to oil companies in exchange for bribes and gifts. He was later convicted and served less than a year in prison. Other government officials took payoffs and embezzled funds. Harding himself allegedly had extramarital affairs and drank alcohol in the White House in violation of the Prohibition laws. Harding died in a San Francisco hotel in 1923 under strange circumstances. The White House initially said he died from food poisoning, another physician stated that it was due to a cerebral hemorrhage, and still another claimed that it was a heart attack.

Still others claimed that Mrs. Harding herself may have had a hand in her husband’s death. She refused to allow an autopsy on her husband. Since Harding died in California, a state without a mandatory autopsy law, even the president could not be examined without his wife’s consent. Several conspiracy theorists began to wonder what she was hiding. One rumor stated that the president, depressed and fearing impeachment once the scandals in his administration came to light, committed suicide. Another claimed that Mrs. Harding had poisoned him, either to prevent the humiliation of scandal from the wrong-doers who worked for him, or out of revenge for his many marital indiscretions, including a long-time affair with a woman named Nan Britton, who bore a child with Harding out of wedlock. Still others dismissed such stories and said that Harding merely died from a stroke.

The true cause of Harding’s death remains a mystery, but at least one person tried to discover what happened to him in the days that followed his demise. That person was his wife, Florence Harding, who tried very hard to hold a conversation with his spirit while his body was still lying in state in the White House.

President Warren G. Harding

Warren Harding had been born in Ohio on November 2, 1865. After college, he got into the newspaper business in Marion, Ohio, and quickly converted the editorial platform to support the Republican party. He enjoyed some success until he began to clash with local political leaders, especially real estate magnate Amos Hall Kling. He attracted a lot of unwanted attention, but refused to give up the fight, eventually making his paper the largest in the region. On July 8, 1891, Harding married Florence Mable Kling DeWolfe, a tall, mannish-looking divorcee – and daughter of political enemy, Amos Hall Kling. When he heard the news, he disowned his daughter and even prevented his wife from attending their wedding. He spent the next eight years in opposition of the marriage, refusing to speak to his daughter or son-in-law.

Florence quickly took control of the Harding marriage. It became her business sense that made Harding a financial, and then political, success. She ran the newspaper with crisp efficiency and plotted Harding’s rather unlikely political ascent. She pushed him into state politics in the late 1890s, serving in the Ohio Senate for four years before winning election as the Lieutenant Governor. His time in office was undistinguished and he returned to private life in 1905. But Florence did not let him stay there for long. In 1912, she wrangled him the chance to give the nominating speech for incumbent President William Taft at the Republican convention. In 1914, with the help of political boss Harry Daughtery, Harding was elected to the U.S. Senate. During his time in the Senate, Harding missed over two-thirds of the roll calls and votes, compiling one of the worst records in history. He introduced only 134 bills, none of them significant. But Harding was an affable man and was always well-liked by his colleagues. He was a loyal party man and worked to keep harmony. This turned out to be a great help to him in 1920, when a dead-locked Republican convention turned to Harding as a compromise candidate for the presidency. After a particularly nasty campaign (the first to ever shine light on the candidate’s sex life), Harding won the election by a wide margin.

His administration soon became riddled by scandal and corruption. Florence may have pushed her husband into the White House, but she had no idea what awaited him there. In that way, at least, her belief in spirits and signs didn’t help her.

Florence had always believed in spirits, omens, and curses. Some believe that she came by those beliefs from the German immigrant families who rented farms owned by her father in Ohio, or perhaps it came from her visits to Spiritualist camps in Indiana in the late 1800s. She read tarot cards and believed in bad luck. In the White House, she became agitated if a maid placed a pair of shoes on a bed, believing that it brought bad luck. A niece later told a story of Florence gazing up into the night sky, identifying the constellations and explaining that the only aspect of life that could truly be relied upon was what messages were given to us by the formations of the stars.

It's no surprise that Florence turned to the supernatural for guidance. Her life was one of abuse – by her first husband, her father, and even by her husband, who carried on with other women right under her nose. She also suffered from a chronic kidney ailment that made her life painful and her lifespan unknown.

Florence and Warren Harding at the White House

When Florence arrived at the White House, she threw herself into the job of First Lady. She opened the mansion and the grounds to the public again – both had been closed during President Wilson’s illness – and began organizing social events for veterans, women’s groups, and various dignitaries. Among those with open invitations to the White House were Spiritualists, mediums, and psychics. Spiritualism had become a popular movement again after World War I, and séances were widely attended across the country. Critics of the Harding administration openly complained about the parade of psychics that were meeting with the First Lady. Harry Houdini, who appeared before a congressional committee to ask for laws against fortune-tellers and fraudulent mediums, even said that he’d heard “on rather good authority that they held séances in the White House.”

Ironically, though, neither Warren or Florence Harding were ashamed of the fact that Florence believed in spirits or astrology. For his part, Harding never criticized his wife’s beliefs nor attempted to prevent her seeking guidance from them, even when her beliefs were exposed during the 1920 presidential election.

Among the many mediums and astrologers that Florence consulted, the one who played the biggest role in her life was a woman named Marcia Chaumprey, who used the professional name of “Madame Marcia.” After Florence became First lady, Chaumprey would often go into clairvoyant trances so that she could warn about administration officials who she sensed were involved in malfeasance or plotted against the president. Her primary service to Florence, though, was to interpret the zodiac for her.

A 1938 Liberty magazine illustration showing Madame Marcia working on the Harding zodiac chart.

During the 1920 presidential primary, Florence was introduced to “Madame Marcia” by her closest friend, Evalyn Walsh McLean, owner of the infamous Hope Diamond. Chaumprey also met with the wives of three U.S. Senators, veiled for anonymity, and was presented with each of their husband’s birth place, time and dates, seeking to determine which of them would be most likely to win the election. Chaumprey determined that Harding would be nominated and win the general election, but at the cost of his life. This prediction – although not the sole reason – did influence Harding’s decision to run for president.

It was Florence who tipped off the press corps about having consulted an astrologer. She announced at the 1920 Republican National Convention that, “If my husband is elected, I can see but one word hanging over his head – Tragedy! Tragedy!”

Once Florence was in the White House, she would send her Secret Service agent, Harry Barker, to bring Madame Marcia from her home. Hoping to spare her husband any embarrassment, she always had her brought in by the West Wing entrance, where the visitor’s book was not always signed. This was, as it turned out, not Marcia’s first time in the White House. The previous First Lady had also consulted her. Edith Galt met Madame Marcia in 1914 and the medium told her that she would someday become a member of the presidential family and live in the White House. Mrs. Galt told her that if the prediction turned out to be true, Marcia would be invited to the White House for further consultations. After the widow met and married President Woodrow Wilson, she was true to her word.

As was allegedly predicted, President Harding did die during his presidency. Florence endured the long train ride from San Francisco to Washington with her husband’s body and on the first night that the flag-draped casket was resting in the East Room, Florence asked her friend, Evalyn McLean, to descend the grand staircase with her so that she could “speak” with her dead husband. The flag was removed by White House staff members and the casket was opened, so that husband and wife could converse face-to-face.

Whether Harding ever apologized to Florence for his many transgressions from beyond the grave is unknown.

After Harding’s funeral, his body was returned to Marion, Ohio, where he was laid to rest. Florence followed him to the grave, dying on November 21, 1924, surviving her husband by little more than a year of illness, sorrow, and pain. 

"MRS. SATAN" FOR AMERICA

The Ghostly Story of the First Woman to Run for President

In 1872, American history changed forever when a woman named Victoria Woodhull became the first woman to try and become President of the United States. She had an uphill battle ahead of her. As a woman, she wasn’t even allowed to vote. If elected, she would have been too young at the age of 34 to serve, but it didn’t matter because she only received a handful of votes. Even her running mate, Frederick Douglass, voted for President Ulysses S. Grant. On Election Day, she was in jail for slandering the most famous minister in the country.

Victoria Woodhull, the first American woman nominated for the presidency -- and practicing Spiritualist medium

When Hillary Clinton was nominated as the Democratic Party’s choice for the presidency in 2016, Victoria Woodhull, a largely forgotten novelty in the historical record, was suddenly in the spotlight for the first time in more than a century and a half. She began to be lauded for her trailblazing advocacy of woman’s rights – including the movement for “free love” and divorce – and her work in the suffrage movement of the day. But what most people neglect to mention is that Victoria Woodhull didn’t achieve her greatest notoriety as a presidential nominee, but rather as a Spiritualist medium who started the first female brokerage firm on Wall Street by charging some of the nation’s wealthiest men to contact the dead.

When someone once asked shipping magnate, financier, and railroad tycoon Cornelius Vanderbilt for financial advice, he replied, “Do as I do, consult the spirits!” His conduit between this world and the next was Victoria Woodhull.

Born Victoria Clafflin in Homer, Ohio, in September 1838, her childhood was a nightmare. Her mother was an eccentric who had “memorized the Bible backward and forward.” Her father was a con artist who abused his family and was one described by a neighbor as a “one-eyed, one-man crime spree.” He fled town after allegedly burning down his own mill for the insurance money and stealing petty cash from the post office. Locals took up a collection so that his family could follow after him. Victoria was the seventh of ten children, four of whom did not live to adulthood. She had only a few years of formal education before being put to work in her father’s traveling medicine show. She and her younger sister, Tennessee, gave séances, performed as fortune tellers, and sold fake elixirs to the gullible. 

At age 15, she was married for the first time to a drunken, philandering physician named Canning Woodhull. They had two children together, but divorced in 1864. She later married two more times. 

In 1868, Victoria and Tennessee moved to New York City, where business and industry were growing rapidly in the years after the Civil War. Millionaires were being made in the shipping, construction, and railroad businesses, and through a series of fortunate coincidences that put the sisters in the right place at the right time, they met tycoon Cornelius Vanderbilt. He was the richest man in America, had an eye for beautiful women, and was obsessed with contacting his late mother. Victoria soon became his personal spirit medium. 

Cornelius Vanderbilt, Victoria's wealthy benefactor

Within two years, using the stock advice that was gleaned from the “spirits” during her séances with Vanderbilt, Victoria and Tennessee became known as the “lady brokers.” Vanderbilt helped them to establish a stock brokerage office, the first of its kind for women of that era. The sisters did very well financially and realized a sizable profit. 

With some of their earnings, they established a weekly newspaper that was designed to cast attention on topics that were of interest to feminists of the time, such as equal rights and suffrage. In 1871, Victoria and her political positions had become so well-known that she appeared before the House Judiciary Committee to speak on behalf of women’s rights. In doing so, she became the first women to ever testify before a congressional committee. 

But her stance on women’s rights was not what earned her the nickname of “Mrs. Satan.” That came about because of her support of another controversial topic of the time: free love. She believed in the right of a woman “to love who I want for as long as I want,” then to divorce. Under the law, she said, marriage for women was slavery. By the age of 31, she was a millionaire, but when she walked into Delmonico’s restaurant without a male escort, she was refused a seat. She tried to vote in 1871, claiming that the 14th Amendment guaranteed women that right. As she had told the congressional committee, “we don’t need the right to vote, we have it.”

Newspapers and religious leaders insulted Victoria with vile nicknames, editorials and cartoons, including this one, which dubbed her "Mrs. Satan." 

But it was in 1872, when Victoria Woodhull truly earned her place in American history when she ran for president. It was a daring move that caught the attention of the press, politicians, and the public. It was the first time that a woman – and a Spiritualist – sought the highest office in the land. She won the nomination of the Equal Rights Party. The former slave and abolitionist Frederick Douglass was named as her running mate, but if he knew it, he never acknowledged the nomination and campaigned for President Grant. 

Even though Victoria could have never been elected, none of that mattered. Her goal was to call attention to women’s rights issues – and to herself. Few regarded Victoria’s candidacy seriously; but the press was more than happy to write about her efforts because it sold newspapers. During her run, she did gain support from a few women’s rights groups and from some Spiritualists, but her radical position toward free love alienated most of those who would have helped her. Conservative newspapers and religious organizations began accusing every one of America’s four million (or more) Spiritualists of supporting free love and while it was a false charge, it inflamed passions. 

One of Victoria's campaign posters

Things turned ugly during her campaign. Reverend Henry Ward Beecher, brother of Uncle Tom’s Cabin author Harriet Beecher Stowe, had attacked Victoria’s notion of free love from his Brooklyn pulpit. Shortly before the election, Victoria’s newspaper printed a story that revealed that Beecher was having an adulterous affair with a parishioner, Mrs. Elizabeth Tilton. The result of the allegations was a full-blown scandal and an embarrassing trial for Beecher on adultery charges. 

The newspaper story may have been accurate, but under a federal law against mailing “obscene” material, Victoria was arrested and jailed, where she spent Election Day. By the way, the winner of the 1872 election was Ulysses S. Grant, who went on to a second term in office.

In the wake of the scandal, her arrest, and the election, Victoria was called a “vile jailbird” by Harriet Beecher Stowe and an “impudent witch.” Others called her much worse. She was later cleared at trial but the events ruined her health, her finances, and her reputation. In 1877, she moved to England, where she married a banker, still supported liberal causes, and lived comfortably until her death in 1927.

She seemed destined for historical oblivion. The Spiritualists wanted nothing to do with her because they believed that she had used the movement to simply further her radical women’s rights agenda. Following the Civil War, when so many people were seeking mediums to contact their loved ones, Victoria Woodhull had soured the movement’s reputation. The bereaved were more concerned with speaking with their loved ones than with listening to speeches about social injustice.

Victoria’s radical position on free love had caused rifts within the women’s rights movement, as well. Even bold feminist leaders like Susan B. Anthony, who had once welcomed Victoria, later distanced herself. When Anthony and Elizabeth Cady Stanton wrote a six-volume history of the suffrage movement, Victoria’s contributions were reduced to one brief mention. 

She would have likely have been forgotten altogether if not for another, far different woman who made history in 2016. 

MARK TWAIN AND THE SUPERNATURAL

The Eerie Side of the Famous Author

On November 30, 1835, Samuel Langhorne Clemens – who became better known as Mark Twain – was born in Missouri. This seemed to be the perfect place to talk about a side of Twain’s life that is all too often ignored by historians and biographers. Just as they do with Abraham Lincoln, most scholars ignore the fact that Twain also had a lifelong interest and fascination with the supernatural. 

For most of us, there is no person who embodied the glory days of the Mississippi River in the way that author and former river man Mark Twain did. Twain was a humorist, curmudgeon and gifted author who created some of the greatest American books of all time, including Tom Sawyer and the Adventures of Huckleberry Finn.

While most readers are very familiar with Mark Twain’s adventures, books and humor, many don’t realize that the author had a deep interest in mysterious happenings. Throughout his life, he made a career out of debunking pomposity and arrogance. He was willing to accept things that were “outside the norm”, including telepathy, ghosts, prophetic dreams and more. He even became one of the most famous members of the widely acclaimed Society for Psychical Research.

Twain’s real name was Samuel Langhorne Clemens and he was born on November 30, 1835 in what he called the “almost invisible” town of Florida, Missouri. He grew up in the small river town of Hannibal, a place that would be made famous through his books. Twain’s curiosity about things unknown was awakened at about age 15, when a traveling hypnotist came to town to perform. The magician demonstrated a number of “mind reading” acts that Twain quickly figured out. This incident alerted him to fraudulent claims of the supernatural. He knew the man was an obvious fake, but believed that there were real supernatural events occurring in the world. In fact, he believed that he had experienced some of his own in earlier years. Just outside of Hannibal lived a farmer’s wife who had a healing power to cure toothaches. She would place her hand on the victim’s jaw and then shout the word “believe!” The toothache would be instantly cured. Twain was present on two different occasions when such miracles were performed – both of them involved his own mother. 

Twain witnessed another strange event a few years later when a young woman that he knew named Olivia Langdon became an invalid at age 16. She was partially paralyzed after a fall on some ice and was unable to leave her bed for nearly two years. After several doctors tried to help the girl and failed, a relative suggested that the family contact a faith healer known as Dr. Newton. He prayed over Olivia, put his arm behind her shoulders, raised her up and after a few moments, she took several steps. Until that moment, any attempt to raise her up had brought nausea and fainting spells. Newton said that Olivia would never be totally cured, but that she would be able to walk at least several hundred yards at a time. Years later, Twain asked Newton what the secret behind his power was and the doctor told him that he didn’t know. He believed that some subtle sort of electricity emanating from his body might hold the answer. Whatever it was, Twain was always grateful to the man because he married Olivia in 1870.

The death of Twain’s father started his writing career. He had to leave school and he became a printer’s apprentice at the Hannibal Courier newspaper. He moved on from Hannibal to the composing rooms at several newspapers, including two in Philadelphia, and then went to become the city editor for the Virginia City Enterprise in Nevada and a reporter for the San Francisco Morning Cable. In between, he traveled and worked a variety of odd jobs, all of which gave him experiences that he could write about, eventually allowing him to be hailed as one of America’s greatest writers. 

In 1858, Twain became a steersman on the packet Pennsylvania, which traveled the Mississippi River between St. Louis and New Orleans. He began learning the riverboat trade under the tutelage of Captain Horace Bixby, who worked to teach him more than 1,200 miles of river. It was during this time of his life that Twain had what he considered his most remarkable psychic experience. It was a vivid prophetic dream in which he saw his brother Henry as a corpse, lying in a metal coffin, dressed in one of Twain’s own suits and with a bouquet of flowers on his chest. In the center of the flowers was a single red rose. The casket in which Henry had been placed was balanced between two wooden chairs.

In his dream, he believed that he woke up. He stated in Life on the Mississippi, “I dressed and moved toward that door, thinking that I would go in there and look at it, but I changed my mind. I thought I could not yet bear to meet my mother.... it suddenly flashed upon me that there was nothing real about this - it was only a dream...”

Not long before, Twain had found a job for his brother on the Pennsylvania and the two men were very close. They worked together on as many shifts as possible and often one brother would join the other on his watch when the other’s work had ended for the day. However, at the time of the dream, Twain was in New Orleans and his brother had departed on the Pennsylvania. Before the steamboat had departed without him, Twain had advised Henry that he should not lose his head in case of trouble. “Leave that to the unwisdom of the passengers,” he told him. He urged Henry that, after seeing to the safety of the women and the children, he should swim for shore himself. Twain knew how common accidents were and he wanted to make sure that Henry would not get himself into trouble. 

Two or three days after the boat had departed from the New Orleans dock, the boiler of the Pennsylvania exploded. Twain managed to reach Memphis a short time later and found Henry near death, lying alongside the rest of the wounded. The details of the story are related in Twain’s classic book, Life on the Mississippi, and told of how Henry died from an accidental overdose of morphine that was given to him by an inexperienced doctor. His funeral costs were arranged thanks to the generosity of the ladies of Memphis, who had taken up a collection for the victims of the disaster. All of the deceased were laid out in coffins made from white pine, however Henry’s casket had been made from metal instead. When Twain walked into the room where his brother’s body was placed, he found him in an open coffin, wearing a suit of Twain’s own clothing – it was just like in Twain’s dream. 

Eerily, an elderly woman walked past him into the room and placed a bouquet of roses on Henry’s chest. The flowers were snow-white in color – except for a single red one in the center of the bundle.

And the strange events continued when Twain returned with his brother’s body to St. Louis. As several men took the casket to his brother-in-law’s house and were carrying it upstairs, Twain stopped them from going inside. He didn’t want his mother to see Henry’s face, as it had been badly distorted by the overdose of the drug. When Twain did go upstairs, he discovered that two chairs had been placed as a stand for the casket. Had he arrived a few minutes later, the coffin would have been in the same place as it had been in his dream. When he stopped the men outside, he had changed the prediction of the dream.

As a result of this strange experience, Twain developed an interest in the paranormal. He was constantly intrigued by what he called “thought transference” and claimed to often speak aloud the very thoughts that his wife was having. He was also interested in the fact that he would often receive unplanned letters from friends after merely thinking of them or the subject of the letter they might write.

One example of this occurred between Twain and the Virginia City journalist William H. Wright. The Nevada silver boom was in the news and Twain’s publishers felt that it was a good time for a book on the subject. Twain thought of Wright as the man to write the book and on March 2, drafted a letter to him, urging him to write the book and making several suggestions for an outline. Twain finished the letter and sealed it into an envelope and then had second thoughts. If Wright penned the book and then couldn’t find a publisher for it, Twain would be in an uncomfortable position with his friend. He decided not to send the letter and stuck it away inside of his desk. 

A week later, on March 9, several letters arrived in the mail for Twain and one of them was from William Wright. Twain told a visiting relative that he could tell them the date, signature and the subject and all “without ever breaking the seal”. He explained that it would be from “a Mr. Wright of Virginia City, and it is dated the second of March - seven days ago. Mr. Wright proposes to make a book about the silver mines.. and asks what I, as a friend, think of the idea”.

Twain then opened the letter. He had stated the date and the contents correctly and found that it reflected the contents of his own letter, written on March 2, which had been in his desk since it had been written.

Not long after that, Twain joined the Society for Psychical Research of London in 1885. Soon, his interest in the occult deepened even further with the death of his daughter, Susy, at age 24. She had spent the last two weeks of her life in pain and delirium and eventually went blind and fell into a coma. After her death, Twain relived each terrible memory and constantly blamed himself for her suffering. His biographer, Justin Kaplan, wrote that he “searched for some sign that before she died, she had him in her thoughts, spoke of him in pride or love. ‘I wonder if she left any little message for me’, he wrote his wife, Olivia, imploringly. “I was not deserving of it’. He wanted everything of her last days kept, even the agonizing pages she wrote in her delirium and with the light fading.”

After Susy’s death, Twain’s wife retreated into full invalidism, staying in her room and avoiding her husband’s own black despair. She lost interest in her friends and began to immerse herself in Spiritualism, a faith that believed in communication with the dead. Twain began to share her interests and while he attended a number of séances, never became convinced that he personally contacted the dead. His bleakness deepened as the years went by, until his family and friends all avoided his ranting and gloomy moods. Living in mourning and seclusion, he treated his surviving daughters like royalty and each holiday that came around was celebrated as a remembrance of Susy. He often dreamed that she was still alive and in his declining years, questioned the difference between dreams and reality, wondering if perhaps she was returning to him in his dreams. 

The author’s dark days of brooding did not last. His life had always run in cycles of success and despair. He began lecturing again and wrote his book on Joan of Arc. Then, in 1904, Olivia passed away from heart trouble. He once again sank into grief and despair, only to revive again and begin writing and lecturing once more. He wrote a paper on a hypothetical experiment with “Mental Telegraphy” in which a man was to invent a scheme that would synchronize two minds, thousands of miles apart, enabling them to talk to one another. He was unhappy with the article and burned it, along with many other writings on the occult. He would not write such a book on the subject, he said, unless it “would write itself”. He stated that he would ignore such writings but that when he was asleep, new ideas would come to him. However, most of these works were never completed.

In 1907, Twain received a cable from England, informing him that he was to receive an honorary degree from Oxford, which would join his other degrees from Yale and the University of Missouri. He traveled to Europe but by 1909, his health was beginning to fail. He returned to Stormfield, his house in Redding, Connecticut, where he was staying with his youngest daughter, Jean and then traveled to rest in the warm climate of Bermuda. There, many of his friends and acquaintances, including Woodrow Wilson, came to visit him. He returned to America strengthened and with a new interest in astronomy. He remarked to his friend Albert Bigelow Paine that “I came in with Halley’s Comet in 1835. It will be coming again next year and I expect to go out with it.”

In 1909, Twain suffered the last of his great losses when his daughter Jean died from heart failure caused by an epileptic seizure. In her biography, My Father, Mark Twain, his daughter Clara noted a strange incident that followed Jean’s death. Her father wrote her that “for one who does not believe in spirits, I have had a most peculiar experience”. He explained that as he entered the room where Jean had died, something very odd happened. “You know how warm it always is in there, and there are no draughts. All at once I felt a cold current of air about me. I thought the door must be open; but it was closed. I said: ‘Jean, is this you trying to let me know that you have found the others?’ Then the cold air was gone.”

A short time later, Twain’s health collapsed and he became gravely ill. He never lost his sense of humor, though, despite trouble breathing and the fact that he was in constant pain. Four months after Jean’s death, on April 1, 1910, he died at the age of 74. His last words to Clara were “Goodbye dear, if we meet....”

And his final prediction had been correct. He came in with Halley’s Comet and he did “go out” with it, just as he planned to.

"DO YOU EVER FIND YOURSELF TALKING TO THE DEAD?"

The Death of Willie Lincoln, or Seances in the White House

The Civil War took a terrible toll on Abraham Lincoln but there is no doubt that the most crippling blow that he suffered in the White House was the death of his son, Willie, on February 20, 1862. Lincoln and his wife, Mary, grieved deeply over Willie’s death. Their son Eddie had passed away a number of years before and while they didn’t know it at the time, another son, Tad, would only live to be age eighteen. Robert was the only Lincoln son to see adulthood. Lincoln was sick at heart over Willie’s death and it was probably the most intense personal crisis in his life. Some historians have even called it the greatest blow he ever suffered. Even Confederate President Jefferson Davis sent a letter to Washington to express his condolences over the boy’s death.

Seemingly beyond all hope of comfort, Mary Lincoln turned to the one of the most popular movements in America at the time – Spiritualism, which offered communication with the dead. She began to hold séances in the White House and communed with her dead son. And according to others in attendance, so did President Lincoln.

In the midst of the Civil War, Abraham Lincoln suffered greatly. Exhausted, he prowled the White House corridors at night, visiting the War Room and reeling under the great responsibility that he felt sending thousands of young men to their deaths. Perhaps his greatest solace during those times was his cherished sons, Willie and Tad. As the war dragged on, Lincoln found them to be one of his only antidotes to the depression and anxiety of his position. He treasured the moments that he could spend with them, when he could forget about the bumbling generals and the bickering politicians and relax with his sons, reading them stories and sharing their wild fun and antics. He loved to beleaguer his visitors with tales of his “two little codgers” and bragged about them to all who would listen.

This mezzotint print of the Lincoln family in 1861 produced by New York engraver John Chester Buttre in 1873. It was based on a composite portrait by New York artist, Francis B. Carpenter. Carpenter relied on a photograph taken at Mathew Brady’s Washington studio on February 9, 1864, for his representation of President Lincoln and Tad. The images of Mary Todd, Willie, and Robert Lincoln are his own creation.

Both Willie and Tad found the White House to be a place of constant revelry and Lincoln let them run wild with very few restraints. They ran and shouted in the corridors and burst into Lincoln’s office in the middle of conferences, chasing one another through the room and darting in between stiff politicians who were not amused. Tad, who instigated most of the mischief, once fired his toy cannon at a Cabinet meeting and also liked to stand at the front of the grand staircase and collect a nickel “entrance fee” from those who came to see the President. Also, with Lincoln’s help, the boys converted the White House lawn into a zoo, with animals consisting of ponies, kittens, white rabbits, a turkey, a pet goat (which often slept in Tad’s bed) and a dog named Jip, who had a habit of sleeping in Lincoln’s lap during meals. When the boys were not chasing animals through the Executive Mansion, they were holding fairs and minstrel shows in the attic. One day, Tad discovered the White House bell system, which had cords running to various rooms so that Lincoln or the staff could summon servants whenever they needed anything. Tad set all of the bells clanging at once, sending the White House into bedlam. It took a few minutes for them to figure out what was going on, but eventually members of the staff climbed into the attic and found Tad yanking all of the bells and giggling madly.

Inspired by the martial atmosphere in Washington, the boys waged mock battles with neighborhood children on the White House lawn. They also held military parades through the corridors of the house, with the boys and their friends marching in a single line, blowing on old horns and banging tin drums. They carried out secret missions on the White House roof, hiding out and watching for “rebs” with their telescopes.

On another occasion, they held a solemn court martial for a soldier doll named Jack, found him guilty, shot him for desertion and buried him in the White House garden. One day, though, they burst into Lincoln’s office during a meeting and explained in a breathless voice that they had shot Jack for desertion and buried him but that the White House gardener wanted the doll removed because they had dug up some roses. So, they wanted “Paw” to fix up a pardon for Jack. Lincoln said that he reckoned that he could do that and took out a piece of official stationary. “The Doll Jack is pardoned by order of the President” and signed it “A. Lincoln.”

President Lincoln with his son, Tad

Because the boys loved the Army, Lincoln often took them along when he went to visit General George McClellan’s camps across the Potomac. They looked up to the soldiers with wide-eyed reverence and watched the marching bands and the drilling regiments in awe. When Lincoln was presented to the troops, the boys rode with him in his carriage and tipped their hats to the troops just as their father did.

In spite of how it sounds, though, life for the Lincoln boys was not all play. Tad was a nervous boy, like his mother, and a hyperactive child with a speech impediment. He was slow to learn and many did not believe that he could read. Mary hired tutors for the boys but Tad had “no opinion of discipline” and teacher after teacher resigned in frustration. But Lincoln refused to worry about Tad, insisting that he would learn his letters over time. The boys might be a little spoiled but he was determined to let them have as much fun as they could. They would have to grow up far too soon.

Willie Lincoln

In contrast to Tad, Willie had a very serious side and often behaved like an adult. He had turned eleven in December 1861 and many of the Lincoln’s friends and staff members commented on his precociousness. The young man would sit in church, listening to the minister with rapt attention while Tad played with a jackknife on the floor of his mother’s pew. When he was tired of romping with this younger brother, Willie liked to lock himself in Mary’s room, where he would curl up in a chair and read a book or write stories on a writing pad, just as his father used to do when he was growing up. He also kept scrapbooks about historical and significant events, filled with clippings on his father’s inauguration, the war, and deaths of important people. Willie was much like his father in so many ways and because of this, was his father’s special favorite. He and Willie shared many interests, especially reading, humor and a love for animals. Lincoln had bought Willie a pony for his birthday and it became the pride of the boy’s life. Mary loved Willie’s gentleness and he was so affectionate that she often counted on him desperately for family companionship. He would, she prayed, “be the hope and stay of her old age.”

Tragically, this was not meant to be.

  

By spring of 1862, the tide of the war was slowly starting to turn for the Union. Lincoln’s generals were finally starting to triumph on the battlefield. Buell had actually managed to defeat the rebels in a battle in eastern Kentucky and Halleck had finally come alive and had sent a column down the Tennessee River. Neither man was cooperating as Lincoln had directed but at least they were fighting. Even better news soon followed. A Brigadier General named Ulysses S. Grant had driven into northwestern Tennessee and had captured Fort Henry on the Tennessee River and then had stormed Fort Donelson on the Cumberland. He pounded the garrison until it met his terms of unconditional surrender. Lincoln and Stanton congratulated one another when they read the news and Lincoln noted happily that Grant and many of his men hailed from Illinois. Subsequent reports also maintained that Grant’s victories had broken the Confederate line in Kentucky and forced the rebels to retreat into Tennessee. Though Halleck, who was sitting behind a desk in St. Louis, claimed most of the credit, Lincoln himself nominated “Unconditional Surrender” Grant for a promotion to major general. After a long and dismal winter, Grant had given the president something to look forward to.

While Grant was busy hammering the river garrisons in Tennessee, both Willie and Tad became sick. The onset of their sickness occurred during the last days of January 1862. The boys were out playing in the show and both developed a fever and a cold. Tad’s illness soon passed, but Willie seemed to get worse. He was kept inside for a week and finally put into bed. A doctor was summoned and he assured Mary that the boy would improve, despite the fact that Willie’s lungs were congested and he was having trouble breathing. Day after day passed and Willie grew more and more sick. He developed chills and soon his fever spiked out of control. White House secretaries later told of hearing his cries in the night.

The reports of what Willie actually died from vary by account. In the end, it remains a mystery. He was said to have been a delicate child, despite his rough play with his brother and his outdoor activities. Like his brother Eddie, he may have suffered from “consumption” or, according to some accounts; he contracted either an acute malarial infection or typhoid. In either case, the lack of proper sanitation was likely a factor. During this time period, Washington had open sewers and a filthy canal for drinking water. The city garbage was dumped into the water just a short distance from the White House.

Before the boy had taken sick, the Lincolns had planned a large reception with over eight hundred people in attendance. The lavish party included dinner, music and dancing and the invitations had already gone out, leaving Mary no opportunity to cancel. The evening turned out to be a dismal affair for the worried parents as they continually took turns climbing the stairs to check on Willie.

His condition did not improve. The doctor was summoned back and by then, everyone in the household and the offices knew that Willie was seriously ill. More doctors were called in to consult and soon, Willie’s illness made the newspapers. The reporters conjectured that he may have contracted bilious fever. One parent stayed with the frightened and sick boy at all times and a nurse came to spell them from one of the local hospitals. After a week of this, Mary was too weak and exhausted to rise from her own bed but Lincoln never left the boy’s side, sleeping and eating in a chair next to his bed. All he could do was to bathe Willie’s face with a wet cloth and look on helplessly as his son’s life slowly slipped away. The doctors had no hope for the child as he grew worse. Soon, Willie’s mind wandered and he failed to recognize anyone, including his beloved father.

Death came for Willie on the afternoon of February 20, 1862. Lincoln covered his face and wept in the same manner that he had for his mother many years before. He looked at Willie for a long time, refusing to leave his bed side. “My poor boy,” the President is reported to have said. “He was too good for this earth. God called him home. I know that he is better off in heaven, but then we loved him so. It is hard.... hard to have him die.”

Mary collapsed in convulsions of sobbing and her closest confidante, her black seamstress Lizzie Keckley, led her away to comfort her. The talented Mrs. Keckley, a former slave who previously worked for Mrs. Jefferson Davis, had become an almost constant companion of Mrs. Lincoln after completing her ball gown for the inauguration. She was one of the few people who possessed the patience and strength needed to deal with the high-strung First Lady. Mary trusted her implicitly, confided in her, and called the woman her best living friend. Keckley listened to Mary, sympathized with her and advised her as best she could. She would soon influence Mary greatly when it came to her beliefs in Spiritualism.

Mary Lincoln’s close friend and confidante, seamstress Lizzie Keckley

After Willie’s death, it was Lizzie who washed the boy’s body and dressed him in a plain brown suit of clothes for the funeral. She herself had lost her only son and understood Mary’s mother’s pain at the loss of Willie. 

President Lincoln was unable to stomach his own loss. He managed to stand after Mary was led away by Lizzie Keckley and stumbled into John Nicolay’s office to share the horrible news. Then, sobbing, he walked to Tad’s room. He sat down with the boy and tried to tell him that Willie would not be able to play with him anymore; that his brother had died. Tad refused to believe it for a time and then he too began to cry.

Orville Browning, Lincoln’s longtime friend from Illinois, and his wife, Elizabeth, immediately came to the White House when they heard the news. Elizabeth stayed with Mary throughout the night and Orville began taking care of funeral arrangements. It was a tragic time in the White House and according to the tradition of the day, the mirrors in the house were covered and the mansion was draped in black. The Lincolns hardly stirred from their rooms. If not for their friends and Lincoln’s most trusted staff, the White House would have come to a standstill.

On February 24, a minister conducted the funeral in the East Room, while Willie lay in a metal coffin in the nearby Green Room. It was said that the boy only appeared to be sleeping as his friends and family passed slowly by him, their faces twisted in grief. Lincoln stood with Robert by his side but Mary did not attend the funeral. She was in such a state of shock that she was unable to leave her room. Most of official Washington was there, including Seward, who wept openly, Lincoln’s Cabinet, dozens of politicians and George McClellan, who was so moved by the President’s suffering that he later sent Lincoln a compassionate note expressing his sorrow and thanking him for standing by him during failure after failure on the military front. When the service was concluded, the pallbearers and a group of children from Willie’s Sunday school class carried the coffin outside and to the waiting hearse.

 The day of the funeral was a stormy one, as if the forces of nature reflected the anguish in the Lincoln’s hearts. The procession to the cemetery was several blocks long and it ended at Oak Hill Cemetery in Georgetown. Throughout the day, rainstorms wreaked destruction upon the city. Steeples had fallen from churches, roofs had been torn form houses, trees and debris littered the roadways, and even the funeral procession cowered under the torrents of rain. But as soon as they reached the cemetery, the storm passed over and the air became silent, almost as in deference to Willie Lincoln.

The service was short. Willie had been embalmed to make the trip back to Springfield and be buried beside his brother, but Lincoln changed his mind about that at the last minute. He accepted an offer made to him by a friend, William Thomas Carroll, to place the body of Willie in one of the crypts in the Carroll family tomb. This would be until Lincoln retired from the presidency and returned to live in Springfield himself. He could not bear the idea of having Willie so far away from him just yet.

In fact, Lincoln returned to the cemetery the next day to watch the body as it was moved from the cemetery chapel to the crypt itself. The tomb was located in a remote area of the cemetery and was built into the side of a hill. It was a beautiful and peaceful spot, but Lincoln wouldn’t be able to leave his son unattended there for long.

Word spread that Lincoln returned to the tomb on two occasions and had Willie’s coffin opened. The undertaker had embalmed Willie so perfectly that he appeared to be merely asleep. The President claimed each time that he opened the casket that he wanted to look upon his boy’s face just one last time.

After the funeral, Lincoln tried to go on about his work, but his spirit had been crushed by Willie’s death. One week after the funeral, he closed himself up in his office all day and wept. It has often been said that Lincoln was on the verge of suicide at this point, but none can say for sure. He did withdraw even further into himself though and he began to look more closely at the spiritual matters that had interested him for so long.

Although many Lincoln scholars dismiss, or openly scoff, at the idea, it is not only likely that Abraham Lincoln believed in the supernatural, but that he actually participated in it through séances and attempts to contact the spirit world. Many have ignored this part of Lincoln’s life or have said that Lincoln had no time for ghosts and spirits, but there are others who say that he actually attended séances, which were held in the White House. Whether he accepted the idea of spirit communication or not, it is a fact that many Spiritualists were often guests there.

After Willie died, Lincoln treasured small items and drawings given to him by his son, sometimes putting them all over his desk while he worked, hoping to capture his essence. Small toys that had belonged to Willie were placed on his fireplace mantel, along with a framed picture that Willie had done for his father. Lincoln would tell visitors that it had been painted by “my boy, who died.” His friends stated that Lincoln would often watch the door while he worked, as if expecting the boy to run through it and give his father a hug, as he often did in life. One afternoon, he asked Secretary of the Treasury Salmon P. Chase, “Do you ever find yourself talking with the dead? I do... ever since Willie’s death. I catch myself involuntarily talking to him as if he were near me..... And I feel that he is!”

Willie’s death left a permanent hole in Lincoln’s heart. Often he would dream that Willie was still alive and would see the boy playing in the leaves on the White House lawn and calling out to him --- only to awaken in his darkened bedroom and realize that it was only a dream.

Lincoln also began to speak of how Willie’s spirit remained with him and how his presence was often felt in his home and office. Some mediums theorized that Lincoln’s obsession with the boy’s death may have caused Willie’s spirit to linger behind, refusing, for his father’s sake, to pass on to the other side.

Even if Lincoln did become involved with Spiritualism, as so many have claimed, he largely avoided them in public. However, after Willie’s death, Mary embraced them openly. This is not surprising with the atmosphere that existed in the White House at that time. The President managed to escape from his despair with work, even though his moments with Mary and Tad tended to bring back his pain again. Tad, who until his brother’s death thought life was nothing more than a game, now broke into bouts of crying because Willie “will never speak to me anymore.” But it was Mary who seemed to be more affected by her son’s death. Always high-strung and emotional in the best of times, she suffered what was likely a nervous breakdown and she shut herself in her room for three months. She took to her bed, broke into fits of weeping and begged Willie to come back to her. Lizzie Keckley would later recall how tender President Lincoln was with his anguished wife but he worried about her as well, fearful that she would lapse into insanity. One day, he took her to the window of her room and pointed out to a distant structure where mental patients were confined. “Try and control your grief,” he told her, “or it will drive you mad and we may have to send you there.”

With care from her husband, and Lizzie’s friendship and kindness, Mary began to slowly improve, although the mention of Willie’s name or a reminder of him would send her into violent sobs. Unable to bear any memory, she gave away all of his toys and anything that might make her think of him. She never again entered the guest room where he died or into the Green Room where he had been laid out in his coffin. She canceled all but the most important social functions and lived in veritable seclusion for some time, trying anxiously to hold on. Five months after her son’s death, she was still so shaken that she could barely write to her friends in Springfield about “our crushing bereavement”. Sometimes, she wrote, when she was alone, she realized again that “he is not with us” and the terror of the thought “often for days overcomes me”.

As time wore on, Mary began to find small ways to alleviate her grief. Following Lizzie Keckley’s advice, she began visiting the military hospitals in Washington, distributing food and flowers to the wounded soldiers. She also developed a deep compassion, thanks to her own suffering and her friendship for Lizzie Keckley, for all of the “oppressed colored people”. She helped Lizzie to care for “contraband” blacks who were now streaming into Washington and even convinced President Lincoln to donate $200 to her cause because “humanity requires it”. Mary also did everything that she could to find jobs for the refugees.

All of this did only so much to ease her pain, though, and Mary remained unstable. Her mood swings, headaches and explosive temper were worse than ever. In addition, she began to see political conspiracies against her husband everywhere, especially on the part of William Seward, the “dirty sneak” who had tried, and was still trying, to take her husband’s job. She despised the man and hated him even more for the fact that he cheerfully ignored her hatred for him. She believed that all of the Cabinet members were evil and was bothered by the fact that her husband seemed to be so unaware of it. Mary also fretted about his safety, begging Lincoln to take guards along when he went out on his nocturnal walks to the War Department. She begged him to be careful and worried about him so much that it seemed to Lizzie that Mary “read impending danger in every rustling leaf, in every whisper of the wind.”

Perhaps the only thing that really provided Mary with any comfort at all was her embrace of Spiritualism, a movement that claimed contact with the dead and which had enjoyed a revival during the years of carnage during the Civil War. But this period did not mark the Lincolns first exposure to Spiritualism or contact with the dead. By the summer of 1862, Mary was meeting with a number of different Spiritualist mediums and invited many to the White House, as each claimed to be able to “lift the thin veil” and allow Mary to communicate with Willie.

Through Lizzie Keckley, Mary made the acquaintance of a Miss Bonpoint, a journalist who was writing about Spiritualism in the papers. It was she who introduced Mary to the Lauries, a husband and wife medium team that lived in Georgetown.  After that, the black presidential carriage was often seen outside of the Lauries’ brownstone.

Nettie Colburn Maynard

Later that year, Mary met the woman who became her closest Spiritualist companion, Nettie Colburn Maynard, a medium that President Lincoln also met with. Many are familiar with a tale told about a séance attended by Nettie Maynard in 1863 where a grand piano levitated. A medium was playing the instrument when it began to rise off the floor. Lincoln and Colonel Simon Kase were both present and it is said that both men climbed onto the piano, only to have it jump and shake so hard that they climbed down. It is recorded that Lincoln would later refer to the levitation as proof of an “invisible power.”

Rumors spread that Lincoln had an interest in the spirit world. In England, a piece of sheet music was published which portrayed him holding a candle while violins and tambourines flew about his head. The piece of music was called “The Dark Séance Polka” and the caption below the illustration of the president read “Abraham Lincoln and the Spiritualists.”

It was also rumored that Lincoln consulted with these mediums and clairvoyants to obtain information about future events in the war. He found that sometimes they gave him information about matters as mundane as Confederate troop movements -- information that sometimes matched his own precognitive visions. There is much written about Lincoln and the Washington Spiritualists of the day in the accounts and diaries written by friends and acquaintances. One such acquaintance would even claim that Lincoln’s plans for the Emancipation Proclamation, which freed the southern slaves, came to him from the spirit of Daniel Webster and other abolitionists of the spirit world.

Although a number of prominent Washington City Spiritualists wrote of their experiences with President Lincoln, most of the information about his interest in Spiritualism came from Nettie Colburn Maynard, who published a manuscript on the subject in 1891. According to Nettie, she first met President Lincoln on February 5, 1863, during a séance in Georgetown that he was not scheduled to attend. The medium would later claim that her “spirit guide” told her that Lincoln would be in attendance. The host of the party declared that this was unlikely to happen, as Lincoln rarely attended séances away from the White House. To his surprise, though, the President did come and the host exclaimed upon seeing him that he had been expected. Lincoln was reportedly shocked and stated that he had not been planning to come but only accompanied Mary that night on a whim.

During the séance, Lincoln was allegedly contacted by an “old Dr. Bramford”, who is said to have given him information about the state of the war. Nettie later quoted the spirit as saying, “a very precarious state of things existed at the front, where General Hooker had just taken command. The army was totally demoralized; regiments stacking arms, refusing to obey orders and do duty; threatening a general retreat; declaring their purpose to return to Washington.” She wrote that the vivid picture of this terrible state of affairs seemed to surprise everyone but Lincoln, who spoke up to the spirit. “You seem to understand the situation,” he said. “Can you point out the remedy?”

Dr. Bramford replied that he had one, but only if Lincoln had the courage to use it. The President smiled and challenged the eerie voice that was coming to him from the darkness. According to the spirit, the remedy for success lay with Lincoln himself. He spoke: “Go in person to the front; taking with you your wife and children; leaving behind your official dignity, and all manner of display. Resist the importunities of officials to accompany you and take only such attendants as may be absolutely necessary; avoid the high grade officers, and seek the tents of the private soldiers. Inquire into their grievances; show yourself to be what you are -- ‘The Father of Your People’. Make them feel you are interested in their sufferings, and that you are not unmindful of the many trials which beset them in their march through the dismal swamps, whereby both their courage and numbers have been depleted.”

Lincoln is said to have replied that if this would do the soldiers good, that such a thing was easily done. The mysterious voice explained that it would do all that was required to unite the soldiers again. In April, Lincoln paid the Army of the Potomac a lengthy visit, arriving at Aquia Creek and traveling by train to Falmouth where Hooker’s men were camped. From there, Lincoln could see with a spy glass across the Rappahannock to Fredericksburg, where Robert E. Lee’s Army of Virginia waited, less than a half mile away. A short time later, the overconfident Hooker led the Union to one of the costliest defeats of the war at Chancellorsville. In the midst of this disaster, though, his men followed him bravely into battle. It was believed that their courage had been restored by the visit from President Lincoln.

Nettie Maynard later recalled that after the advice given by Dr. Bramford, the spirit and the President continued to speak about the state of affairs in regards to the war. The spirit also told him that “he would be re-nominated and re-elected to the Presidency.” This was more unusual than most modern readers might believe because, at that point in history, no President had ever been elected to a second term. Lincoln was not shocked by the news. He smiled sadly, however, and said, “It is hardly an honor to be coveted, save one could find it his duty to accept it.”

 It was during this very séance that the famous incident with the levitating piano took place. The medium said to have performed this wonder was Mrs. Belle Miller, a prominent Washington Spiritualist. Mrs. Miller was playing the piano and under her influence, it “rose and fell”, keeping time to her touch in a regular manner. One of those present suggested that, as an added test of the invisible power causing the instrument to move, Belle should place her hand on the piano and stand at an arm’s length from it. This would show that she was in no way connected to it except as an agent of the mysterious power. President Lincoln then placed his hand underneath the piano, at the end that was closest to Mrs. Miller, who placed her hand upon his to demonstrate that neither strength nor pressure was being used. In this position, the piano rose and fell a number of times, seemingly at their bidding. Lincoln even changed places to stand on the other side of the piano, but the same thing continued to happen.

The President was reported to have grinned at the display and said that he believed he could hold the instrument to the floor. He climbed up onto it, sitting with his long legs dangling over the side, as did a Mr. Somes, Colonel Simon Kase and a Federal Army officer. The piano, ignoring the enormous weight now upon it, continued to wobble up and down until the sitters were obliged to “vacate the premises”.

The audience was, by this time, satisfied to the fact that no mechanical means had been used to move the instrument and Lincoln himself declared that he was sure the motion was caused by some “invisible power”.

Mr. Somes spoke up, “Mr. President, when I have related to my acquaintances that which I have experienced tonight, they will say, with a knowing look and a wise demeanor, ‘you were psychologized and as a matter of fact, you did not see what you in reality did see.’”

“You should bring that person here,” Lincoln quietly replied, “and when the piano seems to rise, have him slip his foot under the leg and be convinced by the weight of the evidence resting upon his understanding.”

His sly comment brought a wave of laughter to the room but when the chuckles died down, the President wearily sank into an armchair, “the old, tired, anxious look returning to his face.”

Nettie Maynard held a number of séances with the Lincolns during the latter days of February and early March 1863. The séances all took place by appointment and after the close of each session, Mary made another appointment to come at a certain hour of another day, usually around the time that the President took his lunch in the afternoon.

On one occasion, Nettie was summoned to a séance by Mr. Somes, who told her that the meeting was of such a private nature that he was not at liberty to say more. Somes picked her up in a carriage that evening and informed her that her destination was the White House. He explained that while at the War Department that afternoon, he had met President Lincoln coming from Secretary Stanton’s office. Somes spoke to him briefly and Lincoln asked him if he knew whether or not Nettie was in the city and if so, would it be possible for her to visit the White House that night. When Somes told him that Nettie was indeed in Washington, Lincoln asked that she come that evening, but that the matter should be kept confidential.

By the time that Somes had finished explaining what had occurred, the carriage had arrived at the White House. A waiting servant ushered them inside and they were hurried up to the President’s office, where Lincoln and two other men were waiting. The President sent the servant out of the room and a few moments later, Mary entered the chamber. Lincoln told Nettie that he wished for her to give the visitors an opportunity to witness something of her “rare gift” and he added that “you need not be afraid, as these friends have seen something of this before.”

Nettie described the men as being military officers, although their coats had been buttoned to conceal any insignia or mark of rank. One of the men was tall and heavily built, with auburn hair and dark eyes. He had thick side whiskers and carried himself like a soldier. The other man was of average height and she had the impression that he was of a lesser rank than his companion. He had light brown hair and blue eyes and was quick in manner but deferential towards his companion.

The group sat quietly for a few moments and then Nettie entered a trance. One hour later, she became conscious of her surroundings and was standing at a table upon which was a large map of the Southern states. She held a lead pencil in her hand and Lincoln and the two men were standing close to her, bending over the map. The younger man was looking curiously and intently at her.

“It is astonishing,” Mr. Lincoln was saying to the larger of the soldiers, “how every line she has drawn conforms to the plan agreed upon.”

“Yes,” answered the other man. “It is astonishing.”

Looking up, both of the men saw that she was awake and they instantly stepped back. Lincoln took the pencil from Nettie’s hand and eased her into a nearby chair. Mary soon appeared at her side to offer some comfort.

“Was everything satisfactory?” Somes asked the assembled men.

“Perfectly”, Lincoln replied. “Miss Nettie does not seem to require eyes to do anything.”

Shortly after, the conversation turned to more mundane matters and after a brief time, the military men took their leave and then it came the President’s time to depart. He carefully shook Nettie’s small hand and said to her in a low voice: “It is best not to mention this meeting at the present.”

This was the last time that the private séance was ever mentioned and Nettie never learned the identity of the two men who were with President Lincoln that night --- or just what the spirits may have revealed with the map of the Confederacy.

According to accounts, Nettie Maynard’s contact with the next world was said to have brought relief to Lincoln on more than one occasion. She was at the White House to visit Mrs. Lincoln in May 1863, around the time that the battle of Chancellorsville was being fought. Nettie was brought into Mary’s bedroom and found the First Lady wearing only her dressing gown. Her hair was loose and she was pacing back and forth in a distracted manner. “Oh Miss Nettie,” Mary cried, “such dreadful news; they are fighting at the front; such terrible slaughter; and all our generals are killed and our army is in full retreat; such is the latest news. Oh, I am glad you have come. Will you sit down a few moments and see if you can get anything from the beyond?”

As no news of the battle had yet reached the public, Nettie was surprised by what she heard. She put her things aside and sat down with Mary to let her “spirit guide” take control of her. In a few moments, she was able to reassure Mary that her fears were groundless. A great battle was being fought but the Union forces were holding their own and while many thousands had been killed, none of the generals, as she had been informed, were slain or injured. She would, Nettie assured her, receive better news by nightfall.

This calmed Mary somewhat but when President Lincoln entered the room a short time later, it was obvious that he was still anxiously worrying about what was occurring at the front lines. He greeted Nettie with little enthusiasm but Mary insisted that he listen to what the medium had to say. Lincoln listened attentively to what had been passed on from Nettie’s “spirit guide”, recounting the true conditions at the front and assuring him of the good news that he would receive before nightfall. The battle would be costly, the spirits said, but not disastrous, and though not decisive in any way, it would not be a loss to the Union cause. Lincoln brightened visibly under the assurances that he was given and he later learned that Nettie’s information had been correct. Chancellorsville resulted in the lives of many men lost and effectively ended the career of General Joseph Hooker but no real ground was lost by the Union. Hooker had marched into a Confederate controlled area and his outnumbered army was sent into retreat but regrouped to fight another day.

Perhaps the most notorious White House séance attendee, who also had an encounter with Nettie Maynard, was General Daniel Sickles. The colorful and controversial politician and Civil War officer spent nearly three months in Washington in the summer of 1862 and became well acquainted with the Lincolns. Sickle was an unusual man and as an antebellum New York politician, was involved in a number of public scandals, most notably the killing of his wife's lover, Philip Barton Key, son of Francis Scott Key. Sickles was acquitted with the first use of temporary insanity as a legal defense in American history. He became one of the most prominent political generals of the Civil War and at the battle of Gettysburg; he insubordinately moved his troops to a position in which it was virtually destroyed. His combat career ended at Gettysburg when he lost a leg to cannon fire.

Daniel Sickles

Sickles was interested in Spiritualism before the war. In fact, on the night that he learned that his wife was cheating on him with the handsome widower Phillip Barton Key (February 24, 1859), Mr. and Mrs. Sickles had given a dinner party at their Washington home that was enlivened by the presence of the Scottish wife of New York Herald editor James Gordon Bennett, an ardent Spiritualist. Mrs. Bennett had attended many séances in Washington and spoke openly of them.

A few years later, during the summer after Willie Lincoln’s death, Sickles often joined Mary at séances in the city. He returned to Washington after losing his leg at Gettysburg and continued the regular visitations. In fact, in early 1864, Sickles concocted a ruse to test the mediumistic powers of Mary’s young medium, Nettie Maynard. Mary agreed to go along with the ruse, perhaps to teach a lesson to the arrogant general.

Nettie had recently returned to Washington after a brief absence and was living at the home of Mr. and Mrs. Somes. Nettie soon called at the White House, to pay her respects to the President and the First Lady, and was warmly received. Lincoln expressed the hope that she had come to Washington to spend the rest of the winter.

A few days later, Nettie and the Someses were invited back to meet a friend – Daniel Sickles in a disguise. Mrs. Lincoln, in her invitation to Nettie, mentioned her desire to see if Nettie’s “spirit guide” would be able to tell who the friend was.

The party arrived at half past eight and was welcomed by the First Lady, who introduced them to a distinguished, soldierly gentleman, who was wrapped in a long cloak, completely concealing his person. Mrs. Lincoln did not call him by name, apologizing for not doing so, and explaining that she wanted to see if her spirit friends could recognize him. She promised to present him afterward. Mr. Somes recognized Sickles immediately, but gave no hint of the general’s identity.

President Lincoln had a late-night cabinet meeting and after joining the group, asked that the proceedings be brief. Silence fell on the group and Nettie entered into a trance. The spirits that spoke through her turned all of their attentions on Lincoln. Their remarks related to the condition of free black people in Washington, declaring that their condition was deplorable – half fed and half clothed – and that the manner of their existence should be an embarrassment to the country. The spirits called on Lincoln to form a special committee to investigate the condition of their people, and to organize a bureau to control and regulate the affairs of the freedmen. (The bureau was eventually formed in March 1865)

It was only after this communication that the spirit, through Nettie, turned to Sickles and referred to him as “General” and praised him for the “noble sacrifice” of his leg at Gettysburg. A few moments later, another presence took control of Nettie – her usual “spirit guide”, an Indian maiden – and she turned to Sickles and addressed him as “Crooked Knife”, her Native American name for him, which was close enough to “Sickles” that everyone present was satisfied.

After Lincoln hurried off to his meeting and Nettie awoke, Mary made the promised presentation of General Sickles, who put aside the cloak, revealing his uniform and concealed crutch. Sickles had no choice but to confess that he was impressed with Mary’s young medium.

As time and the war marched on, Lincoln came to believe that a portent of doom hung over his head. The constant threats of death and violence that he received kept his personal bodyguards on edge at all times. It is also believed that some of his Spiritualist friends felt the end was near.

During the winter of 1864 and 1865, though, the war was nearing its end. In February 1865, Washington was filled to capacity with people who had come to witness the second inauguration of President Lincoln and Nettie Maynard received a dispatch from home, informing her that her father had taken ill. She was asked to come home at once. Having an appointment to meet with Mary soon after, she made a trip to the White House to tell her that she had to leave town. Mary was out, so Nettie proceeded upstairs to have a word with the President instead.

It was the early part of the afternoon, and during the last days of the expiring Congress, and the waiting room was filled with members of both Houses, all anxious to get a word with the President. Nettie soon became doubtful that she would obtain any time with Mr. Lincoln, especially in light of the fact that many of the prominent men had been waiting for several hours. Edward, Lincoln’s devoted usher, was walking back and forth and collecting calling cards to take into the President and Nettie called him over. She explained that she needed only a brief moment with Lincoln and asked for any opportunity to tell him why she would have to cancel her appointment the following week.

Half an hour went by and Edward appeared and asked Nettie to follow him. Several of the senators that Nettie knew personally laughed to her and asked with a smile that she put in a good word for them. She was soon in the presence of the President. He stood at his desk, looking over some papers but laid them down and greeted her with a genial smile. In as few words as possible, knowing how precious his time was, she informed him of her unusual call and told him that she had been summoned out of town because her father was seriously ill. Lincoln looked at her with a curious smile. “But cannot our friends from the upper country tell you whether his illness is likely to prove fatal or not?”

Nettie replied that she had already consulted with her “friends” and that they had assured her that his treatment was wrong and that her presence was needed to affect a cure.

Lincoln laughed and turned to his secretary. “I didn’t catch her, did I?” he teased Nettie and then seriously added that he was sorry that she would be away during the inauguration.

“I would enjoy it,” she assured him, “but the crowd will be so great that we will not be able to see you, Mr. Lincoln, even if I remain.”

“You could not help it,” he answered, drawing his lean figure to its full height and glancing at her in an amused way. “I will be the tallest man there.”

“That is true, in every sense of the word.”

Lincoln nodded pleasantly at the compliment and then asked Nettie what her “friends” predicted for his future.

“What they predicted for you, Mr. Lincoln, has come to pass and you are to be inaugurated for the second time.” He nodded his head and she continued. “But they also reaffirm that the shadow they have spoken of still hangs over you.”

Lincoln shook his head impatiently. “Yes, I know,” he said quickly. “I have letters from all over the country from your kind of people --- mediums, I mean --- warning me against some dreadful plot against my life. But I don’t think the knife is made, or the bullet run, that will reach it. Besides, nobody wants to harm me.”

A feeling of sadness overwhelmed Nettie. It was a feeling that she could not account for and also one that she could not conceal. She spoke to the President boldly: “Therein lies your danger, Mr. President --- your overconfidence in your fellow men.”

The old melancholy look that Nettie had grown so used to in her time of friendship with the President and his wife descended over his face. His voice was quiet and subdued. “Well, Miss Nettie,” he said, “I shall live until my work is done and no earthly power can prevent it. And then it doesn’t matter so that I am ready and that I ever mean to be.” Then, brightening a little, he extended his hand to her. “Well, I suppose that I must bid you goodbye but we shall hope to see you back again next fall.”

“I shall certainly come,” Nettie told him, “if you are still here.”

With another cordial shake of the President’s hand, Nettie passed out of Lincoln’s presence for the last time. “Never again,” she later wrote, “would we meet his welcome smile.”

The full story of Abraham Lincoln and his many connections to the supernatural can be found in Troy Taylor’s book, The Haunted President, available from Whitechapel Press in print and Kindle editions. And coming in summer 2014, Disconnected from Death by April Slaughter and Troy Taylor will offer a look at the way the Civil War and the death of Abraham Lincoln forever changed mourning in America.