Abraham Lincoln sat behind the counsel table in the Springfield, Illinois courthouse. Beside him, his clients, Archibald and William Trailor, waited anxiously. They would soon, all observers knew, be convicted for the murder of Archibald Fisher. The gallows awaited them both.
The prosecution’s case was simple. William Trailor, from Warren County, Illinois, traveled in May 1841 to Springfield to meet his brothers, Archibald and Henry. All three, described as "sober, retiring and industrious," were joined by William’s housemate Archibald Fisher, a handyman rumored to have saved a fair sum through odd jobs and frugal living.
Arriving in Springfield, they met Archibald Trailor, a carpenter. After lunch, all four walked around town. The three brothers soon separated from Fisher. That night, when Fisher did not return, the brothers searched for him.
The next day, they searched again without success. After another fruitless day, William returned home alone.
The story circulated through Warren County that Fisher had died and willed his fortune to William. The local postmaster notified Springfield of the suspicious circumstances. Within days, all three Trailor brothers were arrested.
After interrogation by the mayor and state attorney general, Henry Trailor confessed. He claimed his brothers killed Fisher and stole his money, admitting to helping hide the body. Despite the town’s efforts, Fisher’s remains were not found. Lincoln later wrote, “[E]xaminations were made of cellars, wells, and pits of all descriptions, where it was thought possible the body might be concealed. All the fresh or tolerably fresh, graves at the grave-yard were pried into, and dead horses and dead dogs were disinterred.”
The mood of the public darkened. Even though the body had not been recovered, it seemed clear that only a speedy trial followed by prompt punishment might avoid a lynching. During pretrial hearings, Henry Trailor repeated his confession. The investigators testified that they found deep buggy tracks and signs that something had been dragged through the grass. The tracks, they reported, ended near a pond, a perfect place to hide a body. Investigators further claimed they found human whiskers on a club near the tracks. Finally, a responsible local woman testified that she had seen two of the Trailor brothers walk into the woods with Fisher. Later, she saw them return from the woods alone.
The crowded courtroom felt hot on the cusp of summer, 1841. The heat must have seemed even more oppressive for the defendants. The weight of the evidence and the ire of the townspeople pressed down on them.
Lincoln called his sole witness, Dr. Robert Gilmore, a respected physician. Gilmore testified that Fisher had lived with him and, due to a head injury in his youth, was forgetful and prone to wandering. He suggested Fisher likely wandered off and lost track of where he was.
The doctor offered proof to support his theory: Archibald Fisher was still alive and recovering from illness at the doctor’s house. The ailing man had no memory of his time in Springfield and had journeyed all the way to Peoria before recovering his mind.
The charges were dropped and the Trailors released.
The day after the trial, Lincoln wrote to Joshua Speed that “[w]hen the doctor’s statement was first made public, it was amusing to scan and contemplate the countenances and hear the remarks of those who had been actively in search of the dead body: some looked quizzical, some melancholy, and some furiously angry.”
The Trailor trial explores the limits of the criminal justice system. Henry’s testimony followed three days of interrogation, prompting a false confession. This case, from before Miranda rights, should remind us of today’s constitutional protections. Confirmation bias appears—authorities let conclusions drive facts. Finally, “junk science” is evident too: the whiskers were cow hairs, and the pond grass was matted by children playing.
As a writer’s blog, however, I’d like to focus on the story. Abraham Lincoln penned a fictional tale about the murder trial and published it in the Quincy Whig on April 15, 1846, under the title, “A Remarkable Case of Arrest for Murder”. Ellery Queen’s Mystery Magazine republished that story in March 1952 as “The Trailor Murder Mystery”. Finally, Otto Penzler included it in The Best American Mystery Stories of the Nineteenth Century (albeit labeling it a curiosity rather than an example of compelling storytelling or distinguished literary style).
Abraham Lincoln, therefore, can rightfully claim to be America’s most famous mystery author. To the list of his accomplishments: rail splitter, lawyer, politician, president, please add crime writer.
Until next time.
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For more information, see Logan and Lincoln by William Townsend in The American Bar Journal, February 1933.


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