Obscure American History: The Golden Spike Fiasco

Event Delayed Six Weeks

HISTORY

JD Hoss

On May 10, 1869, the ceremonial Golden Spike was hammered into place at Promontory Summit, Utah, marking the completion of the Transcontinental Railroad.

This monumental achievement connected the eastern and western United States by rail for the first time, revolutionizing transportation and commerce. It drastically reduced travel time across the country, fostered economic growth, and symbolized the unification of a nation still healing from the Civil War.

The railroad took six years to complete, with construction beginning in 1863, and required the labor of approximately 20,000 workers, including Chinese immigrants, Irish laborers, and Civil War veterans, who toiled under grueling conditions to lay nearly 1,800 miles of track.

What many history books fail to mention, however, is that this iconic event was actually supposed to take place six weeks earlier. The delay was caused by a blunder involving Mortimer J. Higgenbottom the Third, President Grant’s personal assistant, who had forgotten to pack the 17.6-karat gold spike aboard the train before leaving Washington.

President Grant, furious, took off his shoe and beat the assistant about the head and shoulders and then ordered Higgenbottom to ride naked and backwards on a mule all the way back to Washington to retrieve the spike—a journey that took nearly six weeks and left Higgenbottom with a permanent disdain for mules.

When Higgenbottom finally returned, dusty and humiliated, he handed the spike over to President Grant who snatched it away and hurriedly pounded the spike into place.

Though there is no evidence to corroborate this story, tradition has it that President Grant kicked Mortimer J Higginbottom off his moving train on the return trip to Washington DC after shouting comments disparaging Mortimer’s heritage and announcing that his services were no longer required.

Though the Golden Spike is now displayed at Stanford University, the tale of Mortimer J. Higgenbottom the Third and his backward mule ride remains a lesser-known chapter in the history of American ingenuity—and incompetence.