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16 remarkable moments in the history of the Oscars
When was the first Academy Awards? How many Oscars did Titanic win in 1998? Why did Will Smith slap Chris Rock? Here's everything you needed to know about the history of the most notable event in the film industry calendar...
The Academy Awards were first held in 1929, and each year the film industry awards gold-plated statuettes – commonly called Oscars – in a glittering and star-studded ceremony. Officially the Academy Award of Merit, everyone knows the golden knight holding a sword and standing on a reel of film as Oscar. Cedric Gibbons, art director at movie studio Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer, gets the credit for designing the statuette but not for naming it. Read more | The best historical movies of all time There are three theories. Hollywood journalist Sidney Skolsky always maintained he thought it up as a less-grandiose antidote to the pretentiousness of the award ceremony. Meanwhile, actor Bette Davis claimed she once remarked the statuette’s backside resembled that of her husband, Harmon Oscar Nelson. The most likely winner, however, is Margaret Herrick, a librarian at the Academy, who said the knight (not just his rear) looked like her uncle Oscar. But how much do you really know about the history of the awards themselves, and the dramatic moments that have played out on the biggest night of the Hollywood calendar? The history of the Oscars: 16 key moments 1929: The first ceremony takes place Founded by Louis B Mayer, head of MGM studios, in 1927, the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences was intended as a non-profit organisation with the goal of advancing the film industry. The first Academy Award ceremony took place two years later at the Hollywood Roosevelt Hotel, on 16 May 1929. Tickets for the private dinner cost $5 and the presentation ceremony hosted by Douglas Fairbanks (actor and first president of the Academy) lasted just 15 minutes. The film industry was undergoing a dramatic change at the time, with the revolutionary introduction of new sound technology. Although hugely popular ‘talkies’ such as The Jazz Singer (1927) had been released before the first Academy Awards, they were not considered, because it was seen as unfair to compare them to silent movies. Read more | Stars, scandals and the end of silent films The first-ever Academy Award was bestowed upon Emil Jannings, for Best Actor for his leading roles in silent films The Way of All Flesh (1927) and The Last Command (1928). The first-ever Academy Award for Best Picture went to Wings, a 1927 silent movie that told the story of two pilots in love with the same woman. The film cost $2 million to produce, making it the most expensive movie of its time. Up until the release of The Artist in 2011, Wings was the only silent film to win Best Picture. <img src="https://images.immediate.co.uk/production/volatile/sites/7/2022/03/GettyImages-2225661880-bbfceb9-e1773593014852.jpg" width="1500" height="1000" alt="A large banquet hall filled with formally dressed guests seated at long tables during the 1929 Academy Awards dinner at the Hollywood Roosevelt Hotel." title="Guests seated at the first Academy Awards banquet, held at the Roosevelt Hotel, Hollywood, on 16 May 1929. The actual presentation ceremony lasted a mere 15 minutes (Photo by Getty Images)" /> 1934: The wrong Frank gets up on stage Arguably one of the most awkward Academy Awards moments happened in 1934, when both Frank Lloyd and Frank Capra were nominated in the Best Director category. Caught up in the excitement of the ceremony, Frank Capra heard Will Rogers, who presented the award, exclaim “Come on up and get it, Frank!” He duly ran up to the stage to claim his award, only to find that it was in fact Frank Lloyd who had won. Capra called the journey back to his chair “the longest, saddest, most shattering walk in my life”, saying “I wished I could have crawled under the rug like a miserable worm. When I slumped in my chair I felt like one. All my friends at the table were crying”. However, Capra’s humiliation didn’t last long: he won the Best Director gong the following year for It Happened One Night (1934). 1938: An imposter nabs an Academy Award The Best Supporting Actress Award of 1938 went to Alice Brady for her role in In Old Chicago (1937). However, she was too ill to attend the ceremony. When her award was announced an unknown man took to the stage to collect it, apparently on her behalf. Before anyone realised something was wrong, the man had vanished. The mystery of the imposter’s identity – and what happened to Brady’s stolen statuette – was never solved. Statuettes vanished again in 2000, when crates containing 55 Oscars disappeared from a loading bay. Some 52 of the statuettes were recovered soon after, found by citizen Willie Fulgear, who was rummaging in a bin behind a food store in LA’s Koreatown. According to The New York Times he was looking for boxes to use for an upcoming house move. Astonished by his unexpected discovery, Fulgear told reporters: “I’ve got more Oscars than any of the movie stars”. Investigators believed that the culprits took the Oscars by accident, unaware of the crates’ contents. <img src="https://images.immediate.co.uk/production/volatile/sites/7/2022/03/GettyImages-1247583035-7b2e403-e1773592915263.jpg" width="1500" height="1000" alt="A middle-aged man in a hat stands beside a large skip filled with discarded Oscars campaign leaflets and packaging in a Los Angeles car park." title="Willie Fulgear stands next to the dumpster where he uncovered 55 stolen Oscars statuettes in March 2000. A truck driver was later sentenced to six months in prison for the theft (Photo by Getty Images)" /> 1939: George Bernard Shaw becomes the first person to win an Oscar and a Nobel Prize After winning the Nobel Prize for Literature in 1925, Shaw received an Academy Award for adapting his 1913 stage play Pygmalion into a film script. He didn’t attend the ceremony, however, reportedly saying: “They might as well send some honour to George for being king of England.” 1940: Results are leaked ahead of the ceremony At the first Academy Awards in 1929, the winners had been announced to the public three months previously. However, the following year the Academy decided to create a sense of suspense and instead sent an advanced list of award winners to newspapers, embargoed for publication until 11pm on the night of the Oscars ceremony. Read more | Knights! Camera! Action! Hollywood's obsession with the medieval era This system remained in place for the next 10 years. However, in 1940 the Los Angeles Times broke the embargo and announced the winners in their evening edition, meaning that nominees could find out their fate before turning up at the ceremony. As a result of this fiasco, the following year (1941) the sealed envelope system was introduced and the results became a closely guarded secret. 1940: Hattie McDaniel becomes the first African-American Oscar winner McDaniel made history in 1940 by winning the Academy Award for Best Supporting Actress, for her role as ‘Mammy’ in the 1939 Civil War epic Gone With the Wind. However, in the year that McDaniel won, the Oscars ceremony was due to take place in a hotel that upheld a strict racial segregation policy. Film producer David O Selznick reportedly had to call in favours just to have McDaniel allowed into the building. Despite being the recipient of a major award, McDaniel had to sit at the back of the auditorium on a segregated table away from the rest of her co-stars. McDaniel was also banned from attending Gone With the Wind’s Atlanta premiere because of segregation laws. <img src="https://images.immediate.co.uk/production/volatile/sites/7/2022/03/GettyImages-3248364-8f93e1c-e1773592849432.jpg" width="1500" height="1000" alt="Vivien Leigh as Scarlett O’Hara grips a curtain while Mammy, played by Hattie McDaniel, tightens the laces of her corset in Gone with the Wind." title="Scarlett O’Hara (Vivien Leigh) clutches a bedpost as Mammy (Hattie McDaniel) tightens her corset in Gone with the Wind (1939). McDaniel later became the first African-American actor to win an Academy Award for her role in the film (Photo by Getty Images)" /> 1943–45: Oscar statuettes are made of painted plaster The Oscars statuette, which depicts a knight with a crusader’s sword standing on a reel of film, was designed by MGM’s chief art director Cedric Gibbons in 1929. In the early ceremonies the gongs were made from gold-plated solid bronze, which was later substituted for the pewter-like alloy Britannia metal. However, as the Second World War raged, metal shortages meant that the awards had to be made from alternative materials. Consequently, all awards handed out between 1943 and 1945 were made of painted plaster. When the war was over, all recipients of plaster awards were invited to exchange them for metal ones. 1945: The first Academy Award comes in handy during the Second World War Emil Jannings, winner of the first-ever Academy Award for his performances in silent films The Way of All Flesh and The Last Command (see 1929, above), was ruled out from the new Hollywood talkies because of his thick German accent. Jannings therefore returned to Germany, where he became associated with Joseph Goebbels’ propaganda machine, starring in several films promoting Nazism. When the Allies stormed Berlin in 1945, Jannings reportedly carried his Oscar statuette around with him to win over American GIs and to demonstrate his former allegiance to the US. <img src="https://images.immediate.co.uk/production/volatile/sites/7/2022/03/GettyImages-3273720-0eb23a9-e1773588040173.jpg" width="1500" height="1000" alt="Emil Jannings in military uniform sits between two soldiers in a scene from the silent film The Last Command." title="Emil Jannings (centre) in The Last Command (1928), one of two films that earned him the first Academy Award for Best Actor in 1929. The German star later appeared in Nazi propaganda films and reportedly used his Oscar statuette to convince invading Allied troops of his pro-US sympathies (Photo by Getty Images)" /> 1968: The ceremony is postponed In 1968 the Academy decided to push back the ceremony from 8 April to 10 April following the assassination of Martin Luther King, whose funeral was scheduled for 9 April. In 1981 the ceremony was postponed for 24 hours following an assassination attempt on US president Ronald Reagan, and the 2021 event was also delayed by two months due to the Covid-19 pandemic. 1973: Marlon Brando’s Oscar is rejected by Sacheen Littlefeather Marlon Brando famously refused his Best Actor award for his performance in The Godfather (1972) in protest of Hollywood’s portrayal of Native Americans. He did not attend the ceremony, instead sending Native American activist and actress Sacheen Littlefeather to make a speech in his place. When Littlefeather explained Brando’s actions, the audience was clearly unsure how to react – some people cheered, others booed. A confused Roger Moore, who attempted to present the award, apparently took the statuette home with him after Sacheen Littlefeather refused to accept it. Listen now | Hollywood history: everything you wanted to know Brando was not the first person to have refused an Oscar: in 1936 Dudley Nichols rejected his Best Adapted Screenplay award for The Informer (1935) due to ongoing strike action by the Screen Writers Guild. Later, after receiving a Best Actor nomination for his titular role in Patton in 1971, George C Scott informed the Academy that if he won he intended to refuse the award. Everyone was therefore very surprised to hear him announced as the winner. Goldie Hawn, who presented the award, exclaimed “Oh my god!” when she read the result. Unsurprisingly, Scott did not attend the ceremony, which he reportedly dismissed as a “two-hour meat parade”. <img src="https://images.immediate.co.uk/production/volatile/sites/7/2022/03/GettyImages-515575596-c4b96e8-e1773587308777.jpg" width="1500" height="1000" alt="A black-and-white photograph of Sacheen Littlefeather in a dress and feathered hairpiece speaking to presenters Roger Moore in a tuxedo and Liv Ullmann in an embroidered gown." title="Sacheen Littlefeather remonstrates with presenters Roger Moore and Liv Ullmann at the 45th Academy Awards. The actress and activist had declined the Best Actor award on behalf of Marlon Brando, who refused the accolade in protest at Hollywood’s portrayal of Native Americans (Photo by Getty Images)" /> 1974: Tatum O’Neal becomes the youngest-ever Oscar winner The 10-year-old received an Academy Award for Best Supporting Actress for her role in Paper Moon (1973), in which she starred opposite her father, Ryan O’Neal. She accepted her award wearing a mini tuxedo and platform shoes. 1998: Titanic wins 11 Oscars With 14 nominations and 11 wins, the blockbuster epic Titanic (1997) dominated the Academy Awards in 1998. Starring Leonardo DiCaprio and Kate Winslet, it tells the tragic story of the passenger ship that sank on its maiden voyage in 1912. Films with historical settings have long performed well at the Oscars, from 1931’s Best Picture winner All Quiet on the Western Front, through to recent films such as Lincoln (2012), 12 Years a Slave (2013) and Oppenheimer (2024). Other notable historical films that have swept the boards include the 1959 Charlton Heston epic Ben-Hur (11 wins), 1996’s The English Patient (nine wins) and 1939 Civil War drama Gone With the Wind (eight wins). Lawrence of Arabia (1962), Dances with Wolves (1990), Schindler’s List (1993) and Shakespeare in Love (1998) each took home seven awards. <img src="https://images.immediate.co.uk/production/volatile/sites/7/2022/03/GettyImages-153184430-f61cc2c-e1773586809929.jpg" width="1500" height="1000" alt="James Cameron in a black tuxedo stands on the Oscars stage with arms raised triumphantly, mouth open in celebration, while holding an Oscar statuette." title="A triumphant James Cameron raises his Oscar aloft after winning the Best Director award for Titanic in 1998. The blockbuster won 10 other accolades that evening, including Best Picture (Photo by Getty Images)" /> 2002: Halle Berry wins Best Actress – and makes history In March 2002, Halle Berry won the Academy Award for Best Actress for her performance in the romantic drama Monster’s Ball. The film, in which Berry plays the widow of an executed death row prisoner, was critically acclaimed for its depiction of poverty and racism in the American South, with her emotionally charged performance earning most of the plaudits. But the moment carried wider historical significance, too: Berry became the first African-American woman to win the award. The importance of the achievement was not lost on the Ohio-born star, who tearfully dedicated the award to “every nameless, faceless woman of colour that now has a chance because this door tonight has been opened”. But while Michelle Yeoh became the first Asian woman to win the Best Actress award in 2023, Berry remains the only African-American recipient. <img src="https://images.immediate.co.uk/production/volatile/sites/7/2022/03/GettyImages-51093737-bfd9528-e1773586577271.jpg" width="1500" height="1000" alt="Halle Berry in a burgundy embroidered evening gown raises an Oscar statuette while smiling at the microphone, as a tuxedo-clad Russell Crowe applauds behind her on stage." title="Halle Berry accepts the Academy Award for Best Actress for her performance in Monster's Ball, March 2002. Berry remains the only African-American recipient of the award. (Photo by Getty Images)" /> 2010: Kathryn Bigelow becomes the first woman to win Best Director The 82nd Academy Awards saw Iraq War drama The Hurt Locker scooping six gongs, including Best Picture. But arguably the most significant accolade was that awarded to Kathryn Bigelow, who became the first woman to win the Best Director award. There have been two further female recipients since then: Chloé Zhao for Nomadland (2021) and Jane Campion for The Power of the Dog (2022). 2017: La La Land is accidentally named Best Picture instead of Moonlight At the 89th Academy Awards in 2017, romantic musical La La Land and coming-of-age drama Moonlight were in contention for the coveted Best Picture prize, with many commentators suggesting it was a two-horse race between the films. It seemed settled, then, when the ceremony reached its climax and veteran actors Warren Beatty and Faye Dunaway – who were presenting the award – opened an envelope apparently revealing that La La Land had been triumphant. The film’s cast and crew, including lead actors Emma Stone and Ryan Gosling, made their way on stage to deliver their acceptance speeches and begin the celebrations. Yet it transpired that Beatty had inadvertently been handed the envelope announcing Stone’s earlier Best Actress win, leaving Dunaway to read out the only film title visible on the card: La La Land. The actual Best Picture envelope – which revealed Moonlight as the true winner – was still in the hands of an accountant from PricewaterhouseCoopers, the firm that oversees the Oscars voting process. Once the blunder became apparent, La La Land producer Jordan Horowitz halted the proceedings and held up the correct card showing that Moonlight had indeed won Best Picture, prompting the film’s stars to come forward and accept the accolade instead. <img src="https://images.immediate.co.uk/production/volatile/sites/7/2022/03/GettyImages-645759516-31a508a-e1773586283673.jpg" width="1500" height="1000" alt="Warren Beatty stands at a microphone on the Oscars stage holding an envelope, while presenters and winners gather around him amid confusion during the 2017 Best Picture announcement." title="Actor Warren Beatty (centre) tells the 90th Academy Awards how an envelope mix-up led to La La Land accidentally being announced as Best Picture winner instead of Moonlight. La La Land still won six prizes at the ceremony, however, including the Best Actress award for Emma Stone (Photo by Getty Images)" /> 2022: Will Smith slaps Chris Rock With the film industry returning to normal following the disruption of the Covid-19 pandemic, the 94th Academy Awards was always likely to be memorable – though not in the way most people expected. Before presenting the award for Best Documentary Feature, comedian Chris Rock made an unscripted joke about Jada Pinkett Smith, who had shaved her head after being diagnosed with the autoimmune condition alopecia areata. Incensed, Pinkett Smith’s husband, Will Smith, strode onto the stage and slapped Rock across the face, before returning to his seat and shouting, “Keep my wife’s name out of your f******g mouth”. <img src="https://images.immediate.co.uk/production/volatile/sites/7/2022/03/GettyImages-1239559037-bcc5989-e1773586126858.jpg" width="1500" height="1000" alt="Chris Rock recoils on the Oscars stage after being struck by Will Smith, who stands beside him in a black tuxedo during the 2022 ceremony." title="Will Smith (right) slaps comedian Chris Rock during the 94th Academy Awards in 2022. The actor and rapper was subsequently banned from all Oscars-related events for 10 years (Photo by Getty Images)" /> The bizarre spectacle prompted speculation that the incident had been staged, but the slap was genuine – and the situation grew more awkward when Smith later returned to accept the award for Best Actor for his role in King Richard. The rapper and former Fresh Prince of Bel-Air star is currently serving a 10-year ban from attending Academy Awards events, due to expire in 2032. This article was first published by HistoryExtra in February 2016
How the work of American folk song collectors inspired The History of Sound
In the early 20th century, armed with new-fangled recording devices, folklorists and ethnomusicologists set out on song-collecting expeditions across the US. Their work documented music that might otherwise have been lost or changed as it was passed on between generations. Jonathan Wright looks at their work and speaks with Oliver Hermanus, director of The History of Sound, about the inspirations from real history that informed the film
Period romance The History of Sound focuses on the relationship between two musicians, Lionel (Paul Mescal) and David (Josh O’Connor). The duo begin an affair at the New England Conservatory of Music in 1917, but their lives diverge with the US’s entry into the First World War. David is drafted to fight on the Western Front. Lionel, whose poor eyesight precludes military service, returns to his family’s modest farm in Kentucky. Post-conflict, the men meet again for a trip across Maine, visiting rural homes to record folk songs on wax phonograph cylinders – sometimes called Edison cylinders after inventor Thomas Edison (1847–1931). But in a film of lost love, there’s no conventional happy ending here. The drama also deals with class, repression, missed opportunities, grief and the way we all time-travel across our own personal histories so that, to quote director Oliver Hermanus, we sometimes find ourselves “having conversations from the past in our heads”. Underpinning the emotional truth of the drama is the filmmakers’ research into the early 20th century – and, more specifically, into the work of those hardy souls who set out to document the traditional music they heard in shacks, on porches and around campfires. View oEmbed on the source website Is The History of Sound a true story? And were Lionel and David real? No, the History of Sound is not a true story – it’s based on Ben Shattuck’s 2018 short story of the same name – however, Paul Mescal’s Lionel and Josh O’Connor’s David are historically plausible figures, despite both being fictional. From the 19th century onwards, men and women on both sides of the Atlantic were fascinated by the folk tradition and set out to catalogue songs, first by collating lyrics and annotating tunes, and later via making recordings. Who were these real-life collectors? In the UK, the major name in the field was Cecil Sharp (1859–1924). Among his many achievements, Morris dancing enthusiast Sharp co-founded the English Folk Dance Society. This later merged with the Folk-Song Society to form the English Folk Dance and Song Society (EFDSS), based at Cecil Sharp House in Camden, London, which remains a centre for those researching folk music. Sharp also collected songs Stateside, in the Appalachian Mountains. However, it’s the Lomax family that’s most associated with song collecting in the US. It was John Lomax (1867–1948) who brought Lead Belly (1889–1949) to wider attention after hearing the folk-blues legend on a visit to Louisiana State Penitentiary, a notorious jail better known as Angola. Lomax was a key figure in building up the Archive of American Folk Song, the first national collection of the country’s folk music. John’s children, Alan (1915–2002), John Jr (1907–74) and Bess Lomax Hawes (1921–2009) were also important folklorists. Some American collectors specialised in particular locales. Several names are particularly associated with Maine, where David and Lionel go collecting in The History of Sound. They include Fannie Hardy Eckstorm (1865–1946), who documented the music and culture of working people and Penobscot Native Americans, and field recordings pioneer Robert Winslow Gordon (1888–1961), born in Bangor, Maine and the first head of the Archive of American Folk Song. Read more | The great American U-turn: from isolationism to WW1 combatants Why was this work important? Generations of musicians have benefited from their work. What’s come to be known as the American Folk Revival began in the 1940s. Along with Lead Belly, important early figures included Woody Guthrie (1912–67), who in 1940 wrote ‘This Land is Your Land’ as a riposte to what he saw as the jingoism of Irving Berlin’s ‘God Bless America’, and the tireless activist Pete Seeger (1919–2014). Many figures in the revival were associated with left-wing politics. Guthrie’s guitars in the 1940s bore the legend, “This machine kills fascists.” Seeger was blacklisted during the McCarthy era. In the 1960s, another generation picked up the baton, which had metaphorically been left in Manhattan’s coffee houses. It may be an exaggeration to suggest that, without song collectors, we wouldn’t have had Joan Baez or Bob Dylan, but these artists’ careers, and our shared cultural history, would have been very different. Building the world of The History of Sound Jonathan Wright spoke to the film's director, Oliver Hermanus HistoryExtra: Ben Shattuck adapted his own work, his first screenplay. How did this come about? Oliver Hermanus: It felt like the natural fit. You sensed that Ben had all of the bigger spaces of the story in his head. When you’re adapting a novel into a movie, it’s a process of reduction. In an interesting way, a short story is a more fruitful process because you get to add. It’s a bit like it’s a house, and Ben’s designed the whole house. And the short story is just the front room. When I come along, I want to see the kitchen and the upstairs bedrooms and the bathrooms, and he knows what they look like. How did you go about finding the historical details that help establish the characters? I’ve now made three different films back-to-back, all set in different periods and in different countries. I do love the process of learning. Of course, we make creative decisions about certain things historically, it’s not a documentary. But if you’re making something super-specific, you obviously want to get it right. The Smithsonian was very helpful to us. We were also able to make contact with community research and historical societies in different parts of America, in Kentucky and Maine. They had all sorts of things that we could use, either artefacts or information about how people lived – the size of farms and houses, and the wood people would use to build things. Were there any details that to which you were particularly drawn? At one point, you show a mixed-race community in Maine. That was definitely one of those moments of expansion with Ben. I asked him, “When they go to Maine, what else could they encounter?” Ben immediately suggested this story from Malaga Island. In history, the Malaga Island episode [where an interracial community was evicted from an island off Maine] happened in 1911 [before Lionel and David’s trip in 1920]. But it was one of those moments where you felt that the connection between community and music – and this migration of people from the south of America to the north, and how the music they brought with them might have differed from the music that existed in Maine or Massachusetts and Connecticut – felt like a worthy intersection for the characters to experience. Considering my own background from South Africa [the son of ANC activists and part of a multiracial family living under Apartheid], it felt like something that gave me a sense of connection to American history. Can you tell us a little about the role of folk singer Sam Amidon in shaping the film’s soundtrack? The story was very much Ben’s love letter to this kind of music, its history and its context within the greater American narrative. From the very beginning, there was a playlist of songs that were part of Ben’s childhood and Ben’s life. The interesting thing is that we had loads of songs in this playlist, but we often had the same song done by different people in different times. And so you sensed how melodies and lyrics would be reimagined, re-orchestrated or redesigned. The song ‘In the Pines’ [also known as ‘Where Did You Sleep Last Night?’] became a famous song for Nirvana, but that is a very old American song from the South. We knew that we would never use ‘In the Pines’, which was just too popular, but we wanted to find songs that had stories inside of them that felt like they were echoes of the story of The History of Sound. A lot of them are ballads of misplaced love or loss and grief. We also wanted to have songs that came from the right regions. Sam was very helpful in then taking these different songs and being able to arrange them in a palette that felt tonally appropriate. The History of Sound is in UK cinemas now. It will be available to stream in the UK later in the year.
History TV and radio in the UK: what's on our screens this week?
Can't decide which shows to watch or listen to this week? Here are the latest history radio and TV programmes airing in the UK that you won't want to miss
Archive On 4: Taxi Driver At 50 – New York, Then And Now BBC Radio 4 Saturday 31st January, 8pm In the mid-1970s, New York faced bankruptcy. The city was visibly decaying. The era was vividly captured in director Martin Scorsese and screenwriter Paul Schrader’s Taxi Driver, starring Robert De Niro as traumatised and violent Travis Bickle. Ex-Big Apple cabbie Michael Goldfarb looks back at the film and considers how New York has changed over the past 50 years. Read more The Assassinations Of Queen Victoria 5 Saturday 31st January, 8.30pm There were eight separate attempts on the life of Queen Victoria during her reign, including an attack in 1840 when a teenage gunman fired at her from close range. But despite the risks involved, as this feature-length documentary charts, the monarch insisted on being visible to her subjects, many of whom only admired her more because of this courage. Read more Walden BBC Radio 4 Sunday 1st February, 3pm Henry David Thoreau’s Walden (1854) was a reflection on a year the author spent living simply and “deliberately” in a remote cabin located next to a pond in Massachusetts. Matthew Needham stars in Paul Farley’s dramatisation of the text. Broadcast as part of Radio 4’s ongoing celebration of the 250th anniversary of the Declaration of Independence. Read more Bolton: The Happiest Town On Earth? BBC Radio 4 Sunday 1st February, 7.15pm Broadcast in the Illuminated strand, Katherine Longworth looks back to the 1930s, when researchers descended on Bolton to discover residents largely happy with their lot in life. What’s changed in the years since? Is it tougher to be happier today than during the interwar era? Read more Call The Midwife BBC One Sunday 1st February, 8pm Despite its cosy reputation, Call The Midwife is never worried about tackling difficult subjects. The latest episode is a case in point as a newborn baby is snatched from the maternity home, an incident that hits Sister Catherine badly. Elsewhere, the Turners have concerns over Christopher’s safety. Read more Understand: An American Journey BBC Radio 4 Monday 2nd February, 11am James Naughtie continues his travels aimed at exploring how the ideas of the Founding Fathers have shaped the contemporary USA. His theme in the third of four episodes is Establishing Justice. He begins in Alabama and its place in the story of the fight for Civil Rights. Read more Clive Myrie’s African Adventure BBC Two Monday 2nd February, 6.30pm Continuing his travels, the broadcaster reaches the megacity of Lagos in Nigeria, where he investigates the vibrant local art scene. As the weekday series heads towards its conclusion, other programmes find Myrie heading north, and visiting Marrakech, Casablanca and Tangier. Read more The Essay: Almost Famous BBC Radio 3 Monday 2nd February, 9.45pm There are cultural figures from the past whose work is celebrated down the years. Others remain relatively unknown, but why? It’s a question central to Ian Sansom’s five weekday reflections on obscurity, which begins with an appreciation of the musician and composer Granville Bantock (1868–1946), whose name would once have been widely recognised. Read more Lost Grail With Alice Roberts – pick of the week Sky History Tuesday 3rd February, 1pm & 9pm Down the years and despite these islands’ distance from the Holy Land, Grail myths have proliferated across Britain. Should we take any of them seriously? The reassuringly sensible Alice Roberts presents a new series interrogating some of these stories and visiting sites associated with Grail lore, such as Glastonbury Abbey. Read more Digging For Britain BBC Two Wednesday 4th February, 8pm The latest series of the archaeology round-up concludes with two episodes shown over successive evenings. Highlights include reports from the site of a vast Roman compound, a farmstead that belonged to Isaac Newton’s mother and the origin story of St Michael’s Mount in Cornwall. Read more
Could Benedict and Sophie have lived happily ever after? The true history behind Bridgerton's cross-class romance
The fourth season of hit Regency period drama Bridgerton tells the story of second son Benedict’s relationship with Sophie, a lady’s maid in disguise. But could a real romance like this have ever had a happy ending? And are there any figures from history who lived out the upstairs/downstairs fantasy? Felicity Day explains more
We’re back in the candlelit ballrooms of the ton this month for a new series of Netflix’s Bridgerton, this time watching second sibling Benedict waltz his way towards marriage. But his love interest is no debutante expensively dressed by a fashionable modiste, drilled in the latest dance steps and declared a diamond by Queen Charlotte. Sophie Baek is a working lady’s maid in the household of the Bridgerton family’s neighbour, Lady Araminta Gun. It’s an upstairs/downstairs romance that could only ever prosper in the pages of a romantic novel – or so you might think… Were there cross-class romances in the Regency era? In fact, there are several true stories from the late Georgian age that give hope to those wanting to hear wedding bells chiming for Benedict before the end of season four. In early 1789, for instance, it was an open secret in the Banbury area of Oxfordshire one Mr William Wykeham, the young owner of the stately Swalcliffe Park, was besotted with Elizabeth Marsh, who was the cook to the tenants then occupying his ancestral home. As the sun came up on a bright day in early March, he stopped his carriage a discreet distance from the house where she toiled long and hard every day. When she jumped in, he whisked her away from a life in service for good – to the mingled indignation, amusement and anxiety of her employer, MP’s wife Henrietta Wrightson, who shared the news of their flight in a letter to her sister. It was an unlikely match between the teenage nephew of a viscount and the daughter of a Lancashire smallholder – not to mention that Elizabeth was some 18 years senior to her determined suitor. But they went on to wed in a local church not long after their elopement. Their marriage was tragically short, but Elizabeth gave birth to two children, a boy and a girl, before she died in 1792. When William followed her to the grave in 1806, their surviving daughter inherited not only the great house where her mother had once been employed, but another even grander property, too. How exactly the Wykehams became acquainted, let alone able to conduct a courtship, remains tantalisingly undiscovered. But beginning an upstairs-downstairs affair probably wasn’t as difficult as we might imagine. During the Regency era, servants were a constant presence in elite households, living and working in close proximity to the family they served and interacting with their wider social network, too. Footmen and housemaids were in and out of a house’s main rooms all day long, with tasks including greeting and ushering in visitors, carrying messages and bringing tea trays. The former waited on the family and their guests at the dinner table, and were sometimes also responsible for escorting young ladies when they ventured outside the house. The duties of a lady’s maid, meanwhile, often kept her by her mistress’ side; she might accompany her on shopping trips and attend her at balls, and usually travelled with her when she was invited to house parties. Added to that, many servants spent years working for the same aristocratic family, becoming well known to all. The name of Sally, who served as lady’s maid to Henrietta, Countess of Bessborough for almost three decades between the late 18th and early 19th centuries, frequently appears in her ladyship’s letters. As a cook, Elizabeth Marsh had less reason than other servants to venture above stairs. But as William Wykeham appears to have remained a resident in the area after surrendering his stately property to tenants, perhaps he retained the management of his wider estate, giving him business which took him into the house’s servants’ quarters. Or perhaps Elizabeth caught his eye in one of the local villages and he sought her out. She was, after all, “a Very pretty woman” – at least, according to her employer. Masters and maids: a recurring pattern It wasn’t exactly unusual for attractive female servants to catch the eye of a gentleman. But alongside the maids and housekeepers who had sexual attentions forced upon them by employers or members of their households in the 18th and 19th centuries, there were also those who embarked on relationships willingly. Lady’s maid Anne ‘Nanny’ Hawkins may have been one of them. Sir Henry Harpur Crewe’s “unfortunate connection” with her (as described by his mother) began at Eastbourne in southeast England in the summer of 1790, where she was perhaps holidaying with her employers. Anne came to live in a house on his Calke Abbey estate in Derbyshire, initially as his mistress, but then, in 1792, two months after the birth of their first child, Henry married her – despite vociferous opposition from his maternal uncle. His contemporary, the Honourable Frederick ‘Poodle’ Byng (so-nicknamed on account of his thick, curly hair), likewise married Catherine, a lady’s maid (in this case, his mother’s attendant) after she gave birth to his child. It is possible that guilt or honour played a part in such a decision, but few aristocrats who seduced their female servants thought it necessary to marry them if they became pregnant (in the 1860s, one peer was widely called crazy for feeling himself honour-bound to do so). Even a lasting relationship was no guarantee that marriage would be the result. The widowed 3rd Duke of Richmond had three daughters with his housekeeper Mary Blesard in the Regency period. He gave her a smart property in Earl’s Court in London, and in his will provided her with a large annual income and generous dowries for their girls. But he never made her his wife. The fact that the Honourable Frederick did wed Catherine suggests that, as with Sir Henry – who was said to be “violently attached” to Anne in the early stages of their relationship – there may have been an uncommon strength of feeling between them. The lady loves a footman Men, of course, had greater opportunity to become acquainted with women of other social classes and far more opportunity to conduct a clandestine romance, being free of the shackles of chaperonage and the strict parental control that curtailed the lives of their sisters. But that’s not to say that upstairs-downstairs relationships were unknown to the fairer sex. Lady Henrietta Watson-Wentworth, sister of the Marquess of Rockingham, was one of several women who became romantically entangled with a footman. In the mid 18th-century, she and a handsome Irish ex-soldier named William Sturgeon, who was employed at her family’s townhouse in London’s Grosvenor Square, grew close after she began tutoring him in grammar, mathematics and music. Theirs was certainly not the genteel kind of courtship that played out in the ballrooms and opera boxes of Mayfair either, for the unmarried 26-year-old Henrietta became pregnant. Yet it has all the appearance of a love match, for despite knowing her family would regard their union as a scandalous mésalliance, in 1764 the pair were wed secretly in the fashionable St George’s church in Hanover Square, only telling her relations once the knot was safely tied. The couple’s marriage produced five children, saw them set up a pottery business together in Rouen, France, and lasted until Henrietta’s death 25 years later. Could a couple like Benedict and Sophie have a happy-ever-after? Of course, all of these relationships courted great risk, and no such union between aristocrat and servant would have offered guaranteed marital bliss. In marrying her footman, Lady Henrietta not only ruptured relations with her nearest and dearest, who were palpably shocked, but left behind the luxury and security of her aristocratic existence. She also took care to draw up a watertight legal settlement that prevented William from accessing the bulk of her fortune (he was to have only £100 a year for life), and made provision for a possible separation, which stands testament to the risk she knew she was taking. Some wealthy parents even had the power to disinherit sons or daughters who married without their consent. There was also a social cost to cross-class romances. Snobbish as it seems today, the doors to elite houses and entertainment venues would generally have remained stubbornly closed to a spouse raised from such a humble background. There were men of wealth and title who married ex-courtesans, actresses and opera singers, with each perfectly content to host and be hosted by the others’ wives, but the Regency diarist Thomas Creevey gives a glimpse of the difficulties that women like Mrs ‘Poodle’ Byng faced when he wrote cruelly of her: “You know I have the greatest aversion to playing at company with such kind of tits”. The 1825 manual The Duties of a Lady’s Maid, meanwhile, painted a miserable picture for any female servant imprudent enough to dream of a marriage with an upper-class gentleman. “You must always be considered as an intruder” by the gentleman’s friends, it warned, while “he will, probably, look upon your relatives … as unfit associates, and will despise perhaps your very parents.” Unsurprisingly, some couples found it easier to shun society altogether. After Sir Henry and Lady Harpur Crewe married in 1792, they lived in quiet retirement at Calke Abbey, even selling the family’s London house (though neither seemed to have viewed that as a terrible disadvantage, the Baronet having a very solitary nature). Nor did the challenges stop other unlikely couples taking a chance on love, even into the Victorian era as snobbish attitudes around class grew even more entrenched. In the early 1880s, the parents of John ‘Patrick’ Chaworth Musters, heir to the estate of Annesley Park in Nottinghamshire, sent him off to their fishing lodge in Norway with nursery maid Mary Anne, who was pregnant after a clandestine affair. Read more | Was there a real Lady Whistledown? The family presumably hoped that the pair’s mutual ardour would cool. But when Patrick inherited Annesley on his father’s death, he married Mary Anne in 1888 and returned to his estates in 1889, bringing her back as his wife, along with their first four children. A private family history records some nervousness about how the daughter of humble straw-plaiters would fare as the house’s chatelaine, but goes on to report that she proved her doubters emphatically wrong: she became a respected member of county society, not to mention the loving mother of their eleven children. In real history, the fairytale ending to a cross-class romance remained entirely possible, if not always probable. We’ll have to stay tuned to see what awaits Benedict and Sophie, in this season’s trip to Regency London. Felicity Day is the author of The Game of Hearts: True Stories of Regency Romance (Blink, 2024)
Is Amadeus a true story? The real history of Mozart's feud with Salieri
A new Sky Atlantic miniseries revives the tale of Mozart’s supposed rivalry with Antonio Salieri. But how much of it is based on truth?
The Austrian composer Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart stands as one of the most iconic figures in musical history. In his short life, he produced more than 800 works, giving him a firm place in the canon of classical music. Amadeus, a Sky Atlantic miniseries starring Will Sharpe as Mozart, dramatises his ‘golden years’ in Vienna and the rumoured feud between him and fellow composer Antonio Salieri. Is Amadeus a true story? No, Amadeus is not a true story. While Amadeus centres on an assumed rivalry between Mozart and Salieri, the story owes far more to theatre than genuine biography. The miniseries draws heavily on Peter Shaffer’s 1979 play, also called Amadeus, which was inspired by Alexander Pushkin’s 1830 short drama Mozart and Salieri. This was a reimagination of the rumour that Salieri murdered Mozart in a final act of revenge. The miniseries clearly embraces this dramatic tradition, with Paul Bettany’s Salieri declaring: “He [Mozart] had written a masterpiece, and I was nothing but a spectator.” There are strands of truth, however. The miniseries takes place during Mozart’s years in Vienna where he did experience huge success, and when he was married to a woman named Constanze Weber (played by Gabrielle Creevy). He and Salieri did also compete as musicians, but in a way that seemed much more professional than vengeful. <img src="https://images.immediate.co.uk/production/volatile/sites/7/2025/12/01003Amadeus-ceb6d1c-e1766423415885.jpg" width="1500" height="1000" alt="Paul Bettany's Salieri (left) watched on amid a crowd as his purported rival Mozart (Will Sharpe) dazzles at a piano" title="Paul Bettany's Salieri (left) watched on amid a crowd as his purported rival Mozart (Will Sharpe) dazzles at a piano (Photos credit Sky studios_Adrienn Szabo)" /> Did Salieri murder Mozart? There is no good evidence that Salieri murdered Mozart. Mozart died on 5 December 1791 in Vienna, at the age of just 35. His early death has led to much mythology, including the theory that his rival Salieri murdered him in a final act of revenge. This is likely fuelled by Mozart reportedly believing he had been poisoned while on his deathbed, which led people to blame Salieri. The rumours continued for decades afterwards, and Alexander Pushkin strengthened them with his 1830 play Mozart and Salieri. Templeton addresses this directly, stating “He wasn’t poisoned by Salieri. That’s another myth that we have. He was ill.” There are also rumours of Mozart being buried in a pauper’s grave. “They’re not true,” says Templeton. “He is buried in an unmarked grave in Vienna because that was the custom of the time for ordinary middle-class people.” So how did Mozart die? It remains the subject of speculation, but Templeton puts it down to rheumatic fever, an inflammatory disease affecting the joints. This is in line with what was described on his death certificate as a ‘heated miliary fever’. Read more | Chevalier de Saint-Georges: how the mixed-race musical maestro Joseph Bologne became a star in 18th-century France Who was Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart? Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart was born on 27 January 1756 in Salzburg, Austria, and is now famous for his talents as a composer. Some of his most famous operas include The Magic Flute and The Marriage of Figaro, alongside instrumental works including Symphony No. 40 and No. 41 Jupiter, and choral compositions. He was the last of seven children, though only he and his sister Maria Anna (known as Nannerl) survived infancy. As might be predicted, the family were not short of musical talent. His father, Leopold, was a court composer and a highly educated man. As Hannah Templeton explains on this episode of the HistoryExtra podcast, “He taught his children everything they knew musically – but they were also educated in maths, languages, religion… he was a very educated man and he ensured that his children were as well.” Mozart’s brilliance emerged early. By the age of three, he could play keyboard pieces and at five, he was taken to Vienna to perform for Holy Roman Empress Maria Theresa. The success of this performance resulted in a grand tour, where the young Mozart dazzled audiences across Europe. After his return, he was granted an honorary role as Konzertmeister (concert master) of Archbishop Colloredo’s orchestra at the Salzburg Court, later securing a paid position. But his time there grew strained; he and his father clashed with Mozart’s employer Archbishop Colloredo, whom they felt favoured Italian musicians and restricted creative freedom. Seeking greater opportunities, Mozart travelled widely in his early adulthood. His ultimate break came in 1781 when he moved to Vienna, marking the beginning of his ‘golden years’ as depicted in Amadeus. Read more | From a scandalous threesome to classical stardom: the actress who found redemption in Handel’s Messiah Who was Antonio Salieri? Although less famous than Mozart today, Antonio Salieri was an incredibly successful Italian composer during his lifetime. His operas include Armida, Les Danaïdes and Europa Riconosciuta. Also a teacher and subject of the Habsburg monarchy, he was appointed as the director of Italian opera by the Habsburg court and held the post between 1774 and 1792, making him the name in Italian opera in Vienna at the time. But his name stretched beyond Vienna; he performed throughout Europe and wrote for opera houses in Venice, Rome and Paris. ven once his own professional career was waning, Salieri was sought after for his teaching ability. His pupils included Franz Schubert, Ludwig van Beethoven and even Mozart’s son, Franz Xaver Wolfgang Mozart. Were Mozart and Salieri rivals? The idea of a bitter rivalry between Mozart and Salieri owes more to later retellings than reality. As Templeton notes, “They were friendly colleagues. There was a little bit of rivalry there as well, but no more than professional rivalry.” This is a very different picture to Amadeus, where Salieri declares “From this time on we are enemies, you and I.” In real history their relationship could be described more as one of competitors than rivals – a dynamic that would have been encouraged in 18th-century Vienna. Musical contests, including one in 1786 that is often cited as evidence of a conflict between the two men, were standard practice in the court of Holy Roman Emperor Joseph II (sole ruler of the Habsburg monarchy from 1780-1790). In fact, Mozart and Salieri even composed music together. In 1785, they co-wrote the cantata Per la ricuperata salute di Ofelia to celebrate singer Nancy Storace’s recovery. Would two bitter rivals really compose a song together to mark such an event? What was Mozart’s relationship with Constanze Weber? Constanze was Mozart’s wife, but she was not his first choice within the Weber family. He first fell in love with Constanze’s older sister Aloysia, though she did not return his feelings. Years later, while lodging with the Weber family, he began a relationship with Constanze. “The circumstances around which they got together are a little bit unclear,” says Templeton. Rumours might have circulated about their inappropriate behaviour before marriage, and Mozart briefly moved out of the Weber home. Constanze’s mother might have also pressured Mozart to marry her daughter. His early letters also reveal mixed feelings; Templeton notes that Mozart described Constanze as having “no wit, but … enough common sense to enable her to fulfil her duties as a wife and mother”. Despite this rocky beginning, and his father Leopold’s initial disapproval, their marriage seems to have been affectionate and supportive. “By all accounts, those letters read really tenderly [and are] quite witty. They clearly have a really good relationship,” Templeton observes. Tragedy, however, marked their family life. Of their six children, only two survived to adulthood, a stark parallel to the experiences of Mozart’s own parents. Was Mozart a prankster? Mozart did have a reputation as a bit of a prankster. In fact, the same man responsible for beautiful compositions wrote a piece in around 1782 titled Leck mic him Arsch, which means ‘lick me in the arse’ and can be understood in English as ‘kiss my arse’. It didn’t stop there, and he wasn’t afraid to use scatological humour in his correspondence. His mischievousness began early. It would be easy to view the young Mozart travelling around Europe as a serious young prodigy, but stories recount how he would deliberately play wrong notes during concerts to see if the audience would notice. This continued into his adult – and professional – life. For example, he would test the musical abilities of those performing his compositions, writing piano pieces that leapt between high and low notes, intending to frustrate the performer. For more content like this, check out the best historical movies of all time as chosen by historians and ranked by you, and our picks of the new history TV and radio released in the UK this week
Who was Roscoe Conkling? The real story of how US politics’ ‘spoils system’ met its match
In the turbulent Republican Party of the late 1870s and early 1880s, Roscoe Conkling loomed as the hard-edged master of machine politics. Who was Conkling, and how did he ‘go to war’ with James Garfield, sparking a chain of events that would end with the president’s untimely death?
Netflix drama Death by Lightning has revived interest in the turbulent politics that shaped James Garfield’s brief presidency, and at the heart of that drama stood two Republican powerbrokers – Roscoe Conkling and James Blaine. Their rivalry helped fracture their party and set the stage for Garfield’s rise and the collapse of a corrupt brand of politics known as the 'spoils system'. Conkling was charismatic, theatrical, and ruthless. More importantly, he controlled a powerful faction within the Republican party known as the Stalwarts, whose influence depended on the spoils system – an issue which had flourished unchallenged in the politics of the United States of America since the 1820s. While Death by Lightning is ultimately the story of Garfield’s untimely death in 1881, following his shooting by Charles Guiteau, much of the action derives from this seemingly unsurmountable rift in the Republican party of the time. What was this system, what was Conkling’s role in it, and why was it so important to the assassination of President James Garfield? Here’s the real history. The Stalwarts, the Half-Breeds, and the spoils system Speaking on an upcoming episode of the HistoryExtra podcast, historian and biographer CW Goodyear describes Conkling as “a colourful bantam rooster of a politician” who walked through Congress “like a bird of paradise amid a barnyard of DC fowl”. And as for the system in which he thrived, Goodyear explains that in this era “the civil service, all of the jobs in the federal government, were awarded by politicians to their cronies”. That arrangement allowed corrupt networks to flourish, and created something called the spoils system through which politicians could “basically rig elections” and “bribe people, and then reward places on the public payroll to their loyalists”. Read more | Your guide to the American Civil War These loyalists, in turn, would often “skim money from the public to enrich themselves and give money back to their political patron”. “It created machine-based politics,” says Goodyear, and the Stalwarts were the system’s unrepentant practitioners. The Stalwarts represented one faction of the Republican party of the late 1870s, while their opposition was called the Half-Breeds. “We know how to name them, don't we?” jokes Goodyear. And, as the Republican Convention of 1880 approached, along with a need to nominate the party’s presidential candidate, they were at loggerheads. Who was the real Roscoe Conkling? Roscoe Conkling was a New York senator who also courted controversy and attention in his personal life, explains Goodyear. “He was a ladies’ man who always dressed in myriad bright colours, polka dots and stripes and matching socks. He had his pages followed behind him in a single file like he was a priest.” <img src="https://images.immediate.co.uk/production/volatile/sites/7/2025/11/GettyImages-1371374203-50fc891-e1762872582952.jpg" width="1500" height="1000" alt="This portrait by John F Jarvis, taken after 1868, shows Roscoe Conkling, the influential US senator from New York. A powerful Republican figure of the Reconstruction era, Conkling was known for his commanding oratory and fierce defence of political patronage." title="Roscoe Conkling (1829-1888), American Politician, U.S. Senator from New York, half-length seated Portrait, John F. Jarvis, 1876 after 1868 negative" /> He also cut a distinctive figure with his hairstyle: “He had something they called a Hyperion curl, this single lock of hair that would kind of split his forehead.” Ultimately, says Goodyear, Conkling’s biggest impact was as the florid, eloquent, and incredibly brutal boss of the Stalwarts. And for Conkling and his cronies – who included politician and future US President Chester A Arthur – the spoils system was not corruption, but the proper way to wield power. They aimed to place former president Ulysses S Grant back in the White House for a then unprecedented third term, believing this would let them “extend their style of corruption to all branches of the federal government”. Opposing the Stalwarts were the Half-Breeds, led by a politician named James Blaine, along with other reform-minded Republicans who were desperate to professionalise government service. Senator James Blaine of Maine, a figure Goodyear calls “the first American politician to run on charisma and nothing else”, was widely assumed to be a future president because of his magnetism and charm. Yet, as Goodyear notes, Blaine ran for the Republican nomination for the Presidency five times, “and he never won.” Blaine’s personal feud with Conkling ran even deeper than the factional divide. According to Goodyear, Blaine and Conkling “personally hated each other, long before these factions became a thing”. Despite claiming to oppose Stalwart corruption, the Half-Breeds “also dabbled in spoils politics” and Blaine himself “was seen as being a very corrupt figure as well”. This left the Republican Party bitterly divided, while a third group of reformers insisted upon a need to clean up the civil service and get rid of “the practices that had led to people like Conkling and Blaine”. What happened at the 1880 Republican Convention? By 1880, with a Republican convention approaching, the party was on the verge of political collapse, and Goodyear notes that many Republicans felt their only hope was a universally respected unifier. They converged on one name – ‘The Man from Ohio’, Congressman James A Garfield. Garfield never sought the nomination. Yet at the 1880 convention, after dozens of deadlocked ballots, delegates began spontaneously switching to him. When Wisconsin unexpectedly assigned Garfield enough votes to place him in the running, the Ohio congressman rose and insisted that “no candidate can receive votes without their consent”. Read more | When was the White House built – and why is it white? This refusal, says Goodyear, delivered in the heat of chaos, made Garfield appear sincere and selfless. On the next ballot, delegates elevated him to the nomination. Yet the party remained divided, and Garfield still walked a fine line. To soothe Conkling, Garfield accepted a Stalwart running mate: Chester Arthur. Goodyear calls Arthur “one of the most notoriously corrupt Stalwarts,” noting that as Collector of Customs at the Port of New York Arthur had personally pocketed a proportion of import fees, a perk that (until President Rutherford B Hayes removed him from the post in 1878) had made him immensely wealthy. But while he gave a nod to the Stalwarts faction with Arthur’s appointment, on other fronts, Garfield was ready to play hard ball. Garfield vs Conkling: what happened? Garfield “was very much dancing on the heads of snakes,” says Goodyear, trying to keep both the Half-Breeds and the Stalwarts happy. “And then the predictable happened, which was that the Stalwarts didn't get the jobs they want. “And Roscoe Conkling, this embroidered turkey of a politician, basically waged war against Garfield.” Once Garfield entered the White House in March 1881, he refused to hand Conkling control of federal appointments. Conkling was basically “trying to use veto power to put his own cronies in the jobs he thinks Garfield promised him,” says Goodyear, and the Stalwart leader retaliated by trying to block Garfield’s nominees. But Garfield held firm. After conspiring with leading Stalwarts, including Arthur who by then was Vice President, Conkling responded with what Goodyear characterises as “a huge miscalculation”. “Conkling and one of his cronies, Tom Platt, resigned from the Senate,” says Goodyear. The pair were fully confident that the New York legislature would immediately reappoint them. But this did not have the desired effect of forcing Garfield’s hand. Instead, Garfield was able to rely on support from other Stalwarts who moved in defiance of Conkling, which allowed Garfield to appoint the people he wanted. Conkling and Platt were not re-elected, laying bare the extent of their misjudgement, and no longer beholden to the brutal politics of the Stalwarts, Garfield now had much freer rein. How the spoils system spawned a tragedy It was soon afterwards that tragedy struck. A mentally unstable office-seeker named Charles Guiteau, immersed in the logic of the spoils system, had convinced himself that murdering Garfield would make Arthur president and earn him diplomatic office. Goodyear notes that Guiteau was wrapped up in the belief that Arthur “would be so grateful” that he would reward Guiteau with a prestigious position as an ambassador. Guiteau shot Garfield in July 1881, and the president suffered for 80 days while being cared for by his wife, Lucretia Garfield, before dying from infection. Garfield’s death ignited national outrage. According to Goodyear, reformers used him as “a fallen saint, a fallen hero,” turning Garfield’s cause of civil service reform into “the grassroots fiery political movement in the United States”. How did the spoils system end? The final chapter in the story of the spoils system belonged to Chester Arthur. Expected to be Conkling’s puppet, he was instead transformed by grief and conscience. Goodyear explains that Arthur “used it as an opportunity to turn his life around”, ultimately championing and signing the Pendleton Civil Service Reform Act in 1883, the first major law to professionalise federal employment and dismantle the old system that had created him. Read more | Who were the tycoons of the Gilded Age? Meet the ruthless 'robber barons' who made millions Arthur’s redemption was so complete that, as Goodyear describes, “no one ever entered the White House more widely distrusted and no one ever left it more generally respected.” CW Goodyear is the author of President Garfield: From Radical to Unifier (Simon and Schuster, 2023). Goodyear was talking to Elinor Evans on the HistoryExtra podcast Death by Lightning is streaming on Netflix now. For more content like this, check out the best historical movies of all time as chosen by historians, history TV shows and films to stream tonight, and our picks of the new history TV and radio released in the UK this week
Was Robin Hood ACTUALLY real? The history explained
Dive into the myth and historical speculation surrounding Robin Hood, a legendary outlaw famed for stealing from the rich and giving to the poor, as HistoryExtra's David Musgrove presents the real details from history that might have inspired the Sherwood Forest hero
Was Robin Hood one man – or many? In this video, Dr David Musgrove shares some of the medieval rebels who may have inspired England’s greatest outlaw, and discover how history has turned him into a folk hero. Drawing on expertise from Dr Sean McGlynn, Musgrove examines figures such as King Richard the Lionheart and King John to anchor the Robin Hood legend in real history. But the earliest stories don’t depict Robin Hood as particularly kind – in fact, he’s often violent. And his iconic green outfit? A mere invention. From chopping off heads to fighting the French – dig into the real history behind the Robin Hood that has so often featured in Hollywood blockbusters. View Green Video on the source website
Who was the real Lucretia Garfield? Inside the forgotten life of a fleeting First Lady
Lucretia Garfield, also known as Crete, was the wife of US President James A Garfield and served briefly as First Lady in 1881. She was admired for her stoic devotion during the president’s long illness that followed his wounding by assassin Charles Guiteau (as depicted in the Netflix drama Death by Lightning), and for her later efforts to preserve his papers and legacy
When US President James A Garfield was shot by Charles Guiteau in July 1881, the nation’s focus turned not only to the wounded president and his successor Chester A Arthur, but also to his wife, Lucretia Garfield, sometimes known to history as ‘Crete’. She was with him for more than two months as he died, dividing her time between his sickroom in Washington, DC, and the New Jersey seaside house where doctors hoped the air might help him recover. Contemporary newspapers heaped praise upon her for her strength and devotion, at a moment of personal and national anxiety. But her stoicism in the face of personal tragedy is just one part of Lucretia’s story – part of which is dramatised in the Netflix series, Death by Lightning, which follows the assassination of President Garfield. Behind her composure was a life of intellectual interest and loyalty that was present long before she became First Lady. Who was Lucretia ‘Crete’ Garfield? Lucretia Rudolph Garfield is remembered in history as the wife of James A Garfield, the 20th President of the United States. She served as First Lady for only six months before her husband died of fatal wounds following an attack by assassin Charles Guiteau. She had previously been a teacher and scholar, and retained passion for education and literature throughout her life. Her poise during his slow death earned wide admiration across the United States, and in the decades that followed she became a guardian of his papers and legacy. Read more | How many US presidents died in office? <img src="https://images.immediate.co.uk/production/volatile/sites/7/2025/11/GettyImages-1410610111-5277a01-e1762429347504.jpg" width="1500" height="1000" alt="This late 19th-century portrait shows Lucretia Garfield, wife of U.S. President James A. Garfield. Known for her intellect and dignity, she brought refinement to the White House during her husband’s brief presidency in 1881." title="A portrait of Lucretia Garfield, wife of President Garfield." /> Lucretia Garfield’s early life and education Lucretia Rudolph was born on 19 April 1832 in Garrettsville, Ohio. She was the daughter of Zebulon and Arabella Rudolph. Her father, a carpenter-farmer and local politician, believed in the power of education and ensured that all his children studied beyond the basic level then available in rural Ohio. Early friends remembered her as a serious figure even from a young age. She was well-read and chose to spend her time studying. She was once quoted as saying: “Books are more faithful companions than the crowds that pass.” Read more | The 5 most notorious presidents in US history In 1850, in her late teenage years, she enrolled at the Western Reserve Eclectic Institute (later Hiram College), one of the few co-educational colleges in the region. Lucretia studied philosophy, literature and science, and impressed her teachers with her diligence and clarity of thought. Among her classmates was James A Garfield, a handful of months older and already known for his energy and oratory skills. Their friendship, formed through shared academic interests, soon began. Lucretia and James Garfield’s marriage and family life Lucretia and James’ relationship developed slowly and in a non-linear fashion. They were briefly engaged, then separated for several years before reconciling. They married on 11 November 1858 in Hiram, after a long and sometimes hesitant courtship, with his sociability and ambition often standing in contrast to her more reserved nature. The couple began married life in modest circumstances. When the American Civil War broke out in 1861, Garfield entered military service while Lucretia managed the household and their growing family. In his absence, she handled finances, kept detailed household accounts, and offered political observations to James via her letters. They had seven children, five of whom survived to adulthood: Harry, James, Mary, Irvin, and Abram. Their marriage wasn’t without challenge; during his service, Garfield had an extramarital affair with a woman named Lucia Calhoun in Washington, DC. He later admitted the indiscretion and was forgiven by his wife. By the 1870s, James having returned from war, their marriage had become close to an equal partnership. Garfield consulted her on political decisions and drafts of speeches, and she often edited his work. <img src="https://images.immediate.co.uk/production/volatile/sites/7/2025/11/GettyImages-1177463808-b82af2f-e1762429745125.jpg" width="1500" height="1000" alt="This 1881 print depicts President James A Garfield with his family, published with the permission of his wife, Lucretia, and was created shortly after his assassination." title="James A Garfield and Family, Respectfully Dedicated to and Published by the Permission of Lucretia R Garfield, Published by JH Buffords Sons, 1881" /> Lucretia’s time as First Lady of the United States When Garfield was elected president in 1880, Lucretia was reluctant to step into her new role as First Lady. She valued privacy and found the ‘high society’ of Gilded Age America artificial, though she soon established her own good reputation. Her receptions were smaller than those of her predecessors, but more personal. Read more | "Violence and American politics have gone hand in hand right from the beginning" She took particular interest in restoring and cataloguing the White House’s historical furnishings, many of which had fallen into disrepair. Her plans for preservation and displaying items anticipated later efforts to treat the residence as a national museum. She also began a small library, for the use of White House staff and guests. Shortly after her husband’s inauguration in March 1881, Lucretia contracted malaria and was sent to the seaside city of Long Branch, New Jersey, to recover. It was there, in July 1881, that she received a telegram containing news of an attack on her husband. Lucretia Garfield’s reaction to the assassination of President Garfield On 2 July 1881, President Garfield was shot by Charles Guiteau at a Washington, DC, railway station. The president was seriously wounded but still alive as he was taken to the White House to recover. Despite her illness, Lucretia travelled immediately from New Jersey. For more than ten weeks she kept an almost continuous vigil at his side. She read aloud from Shakespeare and from the Bible, selecting passages that spoke to ideas of stoicism and courage. The public sympathy for Lucretia was immense. Newspapers bore reports of her composure, and thousands of telegrams of support arrived. Read more | 6 shocking presidential scandals that rocked the White House When Garfield was moved to Long Branch in September in the hope that sea air would aid his recovery, Lucretia oversaw the journey, travelling by his side when he was moved in his sickbed. On 19 September 1881, when Garfield died from infection caused by his wounds. Lucretia was by his bedside. Garfield was the first US president to die following an attack by an assassin since Abraham Lincoln. At the funeral in Cleveland, Ohio – Garfield had served on the Ohio state senate, forever cementing his link to the state – crowds lined the streets in solemn respect as her carriage passed. What was Lucretia Garfield’s life like after her husband’s death? Following her husband’s death, Lucretia withdrew from public life. She refused interviews and declined invitations to political events, focusing instead on being with their children, and tasking herself with the preservation of Garfield’s writings. Read more | 50 assassinations that changed the world In 1882, she purchased a home in Cleveland which she named Lawnfield. While there she began organising her husband’s papers and correspondence, creating the first presidential library. Her careful cataloguing efforts later provided the foundation for the James A Garfield Memorial Library. Lucretia also oversaw the design and construction of the James A Garfield Memorial in Cleveland’s Lake View Cemetery, completed in 1890. She personally selected the artists and approved inscriptions, insisting that the building include both a tomb and a public museum. It became one of the first presidential monuments to incorporate an educational space. Lucretia Garfield’s later years Lucretia never commented publicly on Charles Guiteau, the assassin. Neither did she attend his trial, or his execution in 1882. In her later years she divided her time between Cleveland and the West Coast. She remained interested in education and social reform, supporting local schools and charities but avoiding public attention. During the First World War, she followed events closely and corresponded with her son Harry, who was involved in relief work. Lucretia Garfield died on 13 March 1918, aged 85, at her home in Pasadena, California. She was buried beside her husband in the Garfield Memorial. Death by Lightning is streaming on Netflix now. For more content like this, check out the best historical movies of all time as chosen by historians, history TV shows and films to stream tonight, and our picks of the new history TV and radio released in the UK this week.
Who was the real Chester Arthur – and what was his relationship with James Garfield?
When US President James Garfield was assassinated in 1881, his Vice President, Chester A Arthur, assumed the presidency amid widespread distrust. But once viewed as a party insider tied to political corruption, Arthur surprised the nation
When US President James Garfield was shot in July 1881, few Americans expected his vice-president, Chester A Arthur, to be able to manage the crisis that followed. Known as a New York Republican party bureaucrat, with a background in patronage and machine politics, Arthur had little public confidence backing him. But when Garfield died of his wounds later that year, Arthur was thrust into the spotlight as the 21st President of the United States. Arthur story simmers in the background of Netflix’s 2025 drama Death by Lightning, the story of the assassination of Garfield (played by Michael Shannon) at the hands of frustrated political hopeful Charles Guiteau (played by Matthew Macfadyen). In Death by Lightning, Chester Arthur (played by Nick Offerman) is portrayed as something of a low man pushed in high office, a Republican enforcer famed for his carousing. But how does real history remember him? Who was the real Chester Arthur? Prior to becoming the 21st US President, serving from 1881–85, Chester Alan Arthur had been a lawyer and political organiser from New York, and was closely associated with the patronage system of the Republican Party. As president, however, his administration is perhaps best known for passing the 1883 Pendleton Civil Service Reform Act – ending the easily abused ‘spoils system’ of political patronage that he had once supported. His presidency is often viewed as a meaningful step toward cleaner government and a more professional civil service. Arthur was born on 5 October 1829 in Fairfield, Vermont, as one of nine children. His father, Reverend William Arthur, was a Baptist minister from Northern Ireland. His mother, Malvina Stone Arthur, came from a New England farming family. He attended Union College in Schenectady, New York, where he graduated in 1848. He taught at a school for several years before studying law in New York City. In 1854, in his mid-twenties, he was admitted to the bar. Arthur’s early legal work included a notable civil rights case. In 1855, he represented Elizabeth Jennings, a Black schoolteacher who had been forced off a streetcar reserved for white passengers. Arthur won the case, helping to bring an end to racial segregation on New York’s public transit system. Why was Chester Arthur so powerful in the Republican party? When the American Civil War began in 1861, Arthur joined the Union cause and would be eventually appointed Quartermaster General for the State of New York, where he oversaw the supply and organisation of troops. He performed the role effectively and established a reputation for reliability and administrative skill. His work brought him into contact with New York’s Republican political machine, led by Senator Roscoe Conkling, who headed the Stalwart faction of the party. The Stalwarts believed in the traditional system of political patronage (known as the spoils system) under which party loyalty was rewarded with public appointments. In 1871, Arthur was appointed Collector of the Port of New York, one of the most powerful federal positions in the country. The office was responsible for collecting customs revenues and appointing thousands of employees. Arthur used the post to strengthen his political connections, and became a well-known figure in New York society. Though some critics accused him of using the office to entrench party interests, he was never personally accused of corruption. In 1878, the incumbent US President, Rutherford B Hayes, who had promised reform, removed Arthur from the position as part of his efforts to reduce the influence of politics over what should have been administrative positions. Though a political setback, Arthur remained loyal to Conkling and the Stalwart faction. How did Chester Arthur become Garfield’s running mate? By 1880, the Republican Party was divided. The Stalwarts, led by Conkling, supported the return of former president Ulysses S Grant for a third term. The reform-minded Half-Breed faction, led by Maine senator James Blaine, wanted new leadership and a move away from patronage politics. When the Republican convention in Chicago rolled around in June 1880, there was deadlock. Days passed. So did 35 ballots. A canny compromise was needed, and that was ‘The Man From Ohio’, James Garfield: a senior congressman and former Union general. Read more | The 5 most notorious presidents in US history When Garfield was nominated for president, Arthur, representing the Stalwart faction, was chosen as his running mate to balance the ticket. The compromise proved successful. The Garfield–Arthur ticket won the 1880 election by a narrow margin, defeating the Democratic nominee, Winfield Scott Hancock, and securing a Republican victory after a closely contested campaign. Arthur’s nomination had helped unite the party’s factions, at least temporarily, behind a single ticket. <img src="https://images.immediate.co.uk/production/volatile/sites/7/2025/11/Death-by-Lightning-Split-WL-AN-1-afd7447-e1762441343700.jpg" width="1500" height="1000" alt="US President James Garfiled as played by Michael Shannon in Netflix drama Death by Lightning, and a photo of the real James Garfield" title="US President James Garfiled as played by Michael Shannon in Netflix drama Death by Lightning, and the real James Garfield (Photos via Netflix & Getty)" /> James Garfield and Chester Arthur’s relationship: did they get along? Though James Garfield and Chester Arthur were allies on the Republican ticket, they had little in common. Garfield was in favour of party and government reform, and sought to reduce the power of party bosses, while Arthur was deeply entrenched within the political system that Garfield wanted to change. The two men had a distant working relationship. Arthur’s main duty as vice-president was to preside over the Senate, and he had little influence on administration policy. After the election, tensions between Garfield and Arthur’s Stalwart faction came to the fore over the appointment of the Collector of the Port of New York (the same office that Arthur had once held). Garfield nominated William H Robertson, a Half-Breed reformer, to the position. Conkling and his allies opposed the nomination, arguing that it undermined their influence in New York politics. Arthur, out of past loyalty to Conkling and seeking to protect his own reputation as a Stalwart, supported the protest against Garfield’s decision. The dispute became public, and was damaging to the party unity, but ultimately Conkling’s protest failed. The episode weakened the Stalwarts and left Arthur politically isolated. He might have remained that way, had it not been for the actions of a man named Charles Guiteau. On 2 July 1881, only four months after taking office, Garfield was shot at a Washington DC railway station. The shooter, Guiteau, was a political office-seeker who claimed to be acting on behalf of the Stalwart cause. “I am a Stalwart,” Guiteau shouted, “Arthur is now President of the United States.” Read more | 50 assassinations that changed the world How did Chester Arthur react to Garfield’s assassination? Although Chester Arthur had no connection to the assassin, many Americans recognised that he stood to benefit from the crime. Public suspicion turned toward him, and he received hostile letters and threats. He was hurt by the accusations and strongly denied any sympathies for Guiteau, rejecting the idea that he wished Garfield harm. Garfield survived for almost three months after the shooting, before succumbing to his wounds on 19 September 1881. News of the president’s death reached Arthur in New York, and he was sworn in at his home in the early hours of the next morning. But, from all his disagreements with Garfield, public confidence in Arthur was on the floor. Read more | Who was the real Lucretia Garfield? Inside the forgotten life of a fleeting First Lady How did Garfield’s assassination shape Chester Arthur’s time as president? Aware of the doubts surrounding him after Garfield's assassination, Chester Arthur actively sought to position himself as a unifying figure of fairness and restraint. His administration was moderate, orderly and more independent than had been expected. His most significant reform was his support for the Pendleton Civil Service Reform Act of 1883. This introduced competitive examinations for many federal jobs, and made it illegal to dismiss employees for political reasons. It marked the beginning of a professional civil service in the United States. Although it was Garfield’s supporters who had pushed for reform, it was Arthur, once a beneficiary and proponent of the patronage system, who signed the bill and enforced it. It was a sign of his seriousness to protect Garfield’s wishes after his death. Read more | "Violence and American politics have gone hand in hand right from the beginning" In other measures, Arthur began rebuilding the US Navy, which had fallen into decline since the Civil War. His administration authorised the construction of new steel warships and established the basis for a modern fleet. He also undertook a renovation of the White House, bringing a new sense of formality and remaking it as a symbol of political and social importance. Arthur also vetoed an early version of the Chinese Exclusion Act that would have imposed a 20-year ban on immigration, which he argued violated treaty agreements. Congress later passed a revised version with a 10-year ban, which Arthur signed into law. In all, Arthur was widely regarded as a careful and pragmatic president. His administration was free of major scandal, and his measured style served to restore some measure of public trust in the political system. Arthur’s declining health and the end of his presidency In 1882, Arthur was diagnosed with Bright’s disease, a chronic kidney condition that was then incurable. He kept the diagnosis private, but it affected his energy and outlook. Figures close to him noted that he seemed tired and subdued. By 1884, his political position had weakened further. Despite his best efforts, reformers remained suspicious of his past, while Stalwarts felt betrayed by his role in the reform. Recognising the facts at hand, Arthur made little effort to seek re-nomination. The Republican Party chose James G Blaine as its presidential nominee instead, who went on to lose to Grover Cleveland. Arthur then retired to New York City, living quietly in a brownstone on Lexington Avenue. He died soon afterwards, on 18 November 1886, aged 57. Upon his death, even his former critics acknowledged the integrity and restraint that he had brought to the highest office of the United States of America. For more content like this, check out the best historical movies of all time as chosen by historians and ranked by you, history TV shows and films to stream tonight, and our picks of the new history TV and radio released in the UK this week
Who was the real James Garfield, ‘the man from Ohio’ and doomed president of Death by Lightning?
The 20th President of the United States had the potential to be one of the greats, according to many – until his assassination less than a year into the job. As a new drama comes to Netflix about what set him and his killer on their tragic collision, here’s why it’s time to better remember James Garfield
In the history of the presidents of the United States, James Garfield is too easily overlooked. It’s not hard to see why: his time in the presidential spotlight had been brief, emerging late as a surprise candidate for the 1880 election and serving only 200 days in office. He is perhaps best known as one of the four US presidents to be assassinated, alongside Abraham Lincoln (1865), William McKinley (1901) and John F Kennedy (1963). But while he does not rank as one of the ‘greats’, Garfield is the great ‘what if’ of American politics. A brilliant mind, commanding yet humble, and driven by principle, he fought against corruption and for the modernisation of the country. If he had lived, who knows what he might have accomplished. Now Garfield is back in in the spotlight again in 2025 Netflix limited series Death by Lightning starring Michael Shannon as the doomed president and Matthew Macfadyen as his killer, Charles Guiteau. How and why was US President James Garfield assassinated? On 2 July 1881, President James Garfield travelled to the Baltimore and Potomac Railroad Station in Washington DC, on his way to speak at his college reunion before heading off on a family holiday. Only a couple of members of his cabinet accompanied him; even after Abraham Lincoln’s assassination 16 years earlier, it was not common practice for a president to have a security detail. As he entered the waiting room, a man named Charles Guiteau approached from behind, and fired his British Bulldog revolver twice. The first shot grazed Garfield’s arm – causing him to cry out, “My God, what is this?” – and the second hit his back, becoming lodged near his pancreas. While Garfield was rushed away for medical care, police seized the gunman. Guiteau, almost certainly suffering from a severe mental condition, had a lifetime’s worth of failed enterprises and disappointed ambitions that stretched well beyond his ability. The latest had been a role in politics. He had supported Garfield in the election and believed that he was due reward, though although in reality this amounted to writing a single speech, delivering it to a small group of people and distributing some printed copies. Read more | 50 assassinations that changed the world Yet despite this rudimentary support, Guiteau believed that his efforts had been utterly pivotal in Garfield’s victory, so much so that he expected to be rewarded with a position in the administration. For months, he tried to secure a consulship in Vienna or Paris. When neither materialised, a devastated Guiteau decided that Garfield had to die. In fact, he thought God told him that Garfield’s “removal” was necessary for the sake of the country. Having bought the pistol, he stalked the president for weeks – until his opportunity came in that train station waiting room. Although it took time, and some woefully mishandled treatment by his doctors, the attack ultimately claimed Garfield’s life. Who was the real James Garfield? James Abram Garfield was born on 19 November 1831 into a life of poverty. Raised in a log cabin in rural Ohio, his father Abram died young, leaving James, his brother and his two sisters to be cared for by their penniless yet headstrong mother, Eliza, while she managed their scrap of land. A young Garfield had several attributes in his favour, though: he was extremely bright, hardworking, and impatient to better himself. Starting in his teens, he worked odd jobs to put him through his education at Geauga Seminary, Western Reserve Eclectic Institute and then Williams College, Massachusetts, where he graduated in 1856. He went back to the Eclectic Institute as a professor, but by the age of 26 he had become its president. Excelling in numerous subjects, Garfield had a mind that could write Latin with one hand and ancient Greek with the other (and at the same time), and then, in later life, author his own proof of the Pythagorean theorem as a hobby. Read more | The 5 most notorious presidents in US history While at school, he met Lucretia Rudolph and, after a long courtship, they married in 1858. Their early years were strained, exacerbated by the loss of their first daughter and the revelation that Garfield had an affair with another woman while away during his service during the American Civil War. But Lucretia – affectionately known as Crete – forgave him and the couple grew devoted to each other. They had another six children, one more not surviving infancy, and Crete remained a constant counsel in her husband’s career. Not content as a teacher, Garfield become an attorney, got ordained as a minister and went into politics, joining the new, anti-slavery Republican Party and being elected to the Ohio state senate in 1859. Then, with the start of the American Civil War in 1861, his sights turned to the military. What did James Garfield do in the American Civil War? A staunch abolitionist, Garfield eagerly signed up for the Union cause. As well as raising funds for volunteer regiments in the legislature, he recruited men to the 42nd Ohio Volunteer Infantry and served as its colonel. With the war initially going badly, Garfield gave the Union something to cheer with his against-the-odds victory at the battle of Middle Creek in early 1862. He saw further action at the battles of Shiloh (1862) and Chickamauga (1863), rising to the rank of major general. By then, he had also been elected to the House of Representatives. President Lincoln himself convinced Garfield to resign his commission, saying that he had enough generals for the battlefield, but needed more good men in Congress. How long was James Garfield in Congress? Beginning in his early 30s, Garfield served nine terms and 17 years as a congressman, during which he distinguished himself as a charismatic orator and pragmatic statesman. Affable and willing to talk to both sides of the aisle, he chaired several powerful committees and became a key figure in fiscal matters, particularly known for his advocacy of the gold standard and free trade. Following the abolition of slavery, he fought for the rights of African Americans during the period of Reconstruction. In particular, he called for freed slaves to have the vote, believing that an educated, engaged Black population was the quickest way to equality. By the late 1870s, Garfield had become the leading Republican in the House, while simultaneously taking cases as a lawyer. In 1880, he was elected to the Senate, but before he could take his seat, higher office came calling. How did James Garfield become president? A newly elected senator, Garfield went to the Republican National Convention, held in Chicago in June 1880, to endorse his fellow Ohioan and secretary of the Treasury, John Sherman, for president. The other candidates were former president Ulysses S Grant, seeking a third term, and James Blaine, a senator from Maine. Selecting the party’s candidate would not be straightforward. The Republican Party was divided into factions over the ‘spoils system’, a long-established convention of patronage whereby government jobs would be filled by one’s supporters and cronies. The Stalwarts faction wanted it preserved, not least because their leader, the powerful New York senator Roscoe Conkling, controlled the patronage of the New York Customs House, which was at that time one of the most lucrative ports in the world. Conkling backed Grant. The Half-Breeds faction, headed by Blaine, wanted major reform to create a civil service based on merit. <img src="https://images.immediate.co.uk/production/volatile/sites/7/2025/11/LIGHTNING102Unit03806RC-ab782f8-e1762445619564.jpg" width="1500" height="1000" alt="Lucretia Garfield (Betty Gilpin) and James Garfield (Michael Shannon) in Netflix drama Death by Lightning" title="Lucretia Garfield (Betty Gilpin) and James Garfield (Michael Shannon) in Netflix drama Death by Lightning (Photo via Larry Horricks/Netflix)" /> Neither side budged. Several days and 35 ballots passed without one man securing the nomination. It became clear that a compromise candidate was needed – and more and more heads turned towards Garfield. Ostensibly against Garfield’s own wishes, he won the 36th ballot and reluctantly joined the presidential race, with Stalwart Chester Arthur added to the ticket as vice presidential candidate. His Democratic opponent was Winfield Scott Hancock, a fellow Union Army veteran. At this time, it was improper for a candidate to go out campaigning personally, so Garfield came up with a novel solution. He stayed at his home in Mentor, Ohio, and the press, voters and lobbyists came to him. Hundreds if not thousands heard him give speeches from his front porch, in which he made the most of his rags-to-riches story. In the end, he defeated Hancock, although narrowly – the margin was fewer than 10,000 votes, out of more than nine million cast. Was James Garfield a good president? The truth is that we will never know, but there is reason to think he could have been more than good. Garfield’s first act was to put together a conciliatory cabinet, including Blaine as Secretary of State, and then he set about purging the Post Office of corruption. The major success of his tenure in the White House came against Conkling. Instead of picking the man Conkling wanted as Collector of the Port of New York, according to the spoils system, Garfield chose a Half-Breed, William H Robertson. Both New York senators – Conkling and his preferred candidate – resigned in protest, certain that they would be instantly re-elected in a show of support from the city of New York, but the gambit backfired. Conkling lost his seat, and Garfield made a resounding statement asserting presidential authority. While a blow to the spoils system, Garfield still had to contend with huge numbers of office seekers, people who thought they were owed for their support. Among them was one Charles Guiteau. What was James Garfield’s relationship like with his vice president, Chester Arthur? At the time of Garfield’s nomination, it was hoped that divisions within the Republican Party could be reconciled by selecting Chester A Arthur, a Stalwart, as the vice-presidential candidate. This inevitably led to a tense relationship between the two in highest office. This came to a head especially during Garfield’s feud with Conkling. Arthur was firmly in Conkling’s pocket: indeed, he lived with him at the time of the convention. But after Garfield’s death, it would be Arthur – a product of the spoils system – who pushed through legislation for civil service reform. When did James Garfield die? The shots fired by Guiteau did not immediately kill Garfield. In fact, he lived for another 11 weeks, receiving treatment at the White House from a host of doctors. Far from aiding his recovery, these medics made matters worse. Their attempts to extract the bullet in the president’s back were carried out with no consideration of germs or sterilisation, meaning that Garfield picked up fevers and infections, including sepsis. Unable to eat, he lost a huge amount of weight and became increasingly weak. Time and time again, his wound was opened. Even Alexander Graham Bell, inventor of the telephone, was brought in to test his new metal detector in the hope of locating the bullet. Was the gunshot not fatal? Ever since, there has been a school of thought among medical experts that, if doctors had just left Garfield alone, he may have recovered. Instead, his health worsened. His doctors eventually decided to take Garfield away from the oppressive summer heat of Washington and transport him to Elberon, New Jersey, to benefit from the sea air. Extra rail track was laid in a night just to make his journey more comfortable. There, 80 days after being shot, Garfield finally succumbed on 19 September 1881, aged 49. Guiteau, who had spent the whole time in jail, could now be put on trial for murder. Despite his defence of insanity – and declaration “I did not kill the president. The doctors did that. I merely shot him” – he was found guilty and executed by hanging in June 1882. What did James Garfield’s assassination mean for American politics? Before his death, Garfield’s health became a media spectacle with every medical update printed in the papers. As such, the news of his death was met with an immense outpouring of grief. More than 100,000 people saw him lying in state in the Capitol Building, while 150,000 observed his funeral in Cleveland, Ohio. For years afterwards, his widow Lucretia preserved his records and papers, and stored them in an archive built on her property. This is now recognised as the first presidential library. Most significantly, Chester Arthur, once sworn in as the 21st president, signed the Pendleton Civil Service Reform Act in 1883, which ended the spoils system. He meant it as a memorial to Garfield, and it remains a legacy to a presidency that could have achieved much more, if not for an assassin’s bullet. For more content like this, check out the best historical movies of all time as chosen by historians and ranked by you, history TV shows and films to stream tonight, and our picks of the new history TV and radio released in the UK this week