Stuart was cautious with his interrogators. By telling them that he did not want to know anything about his visitors he hoped to show that he was not a willing abettor in aiding Booth and Herold. Stuart, however, seemed well aware of who the men were: “I was suspicious of them. I did not know but they might be some of the characters who had been connected with the vile acts of assassination here in Washington, which I heard of a few days before—the previous Tuesday; this was a Sunday. I was suspicious of the lame man (Booth). He desired to tell me something I did not care to hear. ... He said he had a fall and broken his leg; he said Dr. Mudd set it. ... They said Dr. Mudd had recommended them to me.”15
Stuart was trying to cover himself by sounding unsure of his visitors: “They inquired who could send them up to Fredericksburg. I said I could not possibly do it. I was asked if I knew who could do it. I told them I had a neighbor near there, a colored man who sometimes hired his wagon, and probably he would do it if he was not very busy; and it would be no harm to try. ... I agreed to give them something to eat & they walked into the house to get it. ... the men had finished their meal, & I remarked ‘the old man is waiting for you; he is anxious to be off.’ . . . They got up immediately and went out.”16
Following Stuart’s orders, Bryant took Booth and Herold a short distance from Stuart’s house to the cabin of a free Black by the name of William Lucas. Lucas lived with his wife and six children in a small cabin near the border of Stuart’s farm.17 Booth needed a place to sleep and transportation to the Rappahannock River since Bryant would not leave his horses with the two fugitives. After Stuart’s rebuff, Booth was in no mood to plead for help. He gave the unfortunate Lucas no choice. At one point Booth reached behind his back and pulled out his large bowie knife, saying to Lucas, “Old man, how do you like this?”18 He then told Lucas that he and his friend would sleep in the cabin for the night.
Booth and Herold bedded down for the night while Lucas and his family slept outside. When morning came Booth asked Lucas to take him in his wagon to Port Conway on the Rappahannock. Port Conway was located on the north shore of the Rappahannock River ten miles to the south of Stuart’s home. It was the safest place to cross the river, a fact that Harbin undoubtedly told Booth before sending him on to Stuart’s house. Lucas tried to argue against going with Booth. He complained that his wife was sick and he didn’t want to leave her for so long a period. Booth was losing his patience. His manner was growing increasingly ugly when Lucas’s son Charley stepped in and said he would take the pair in his father’s wagon. When Lucas asked if Booth intended to take his horses and wagon without pay, Booth asked how much he received for driving to Port Conway. The old man said ten dollars in gold or twenty dollars in greenbacks. Booth paid the $20 in greenbacks to Mrs. Lucas.19 Despite his threatening demeanor, Booth was generous. Charley Lucas hitched up the pair of horses, and after Booth was helped into the wagon, the three men set out for Port Conway. According to William Lucas it was around seven o’clock on the morning of April 24.20
Before departing, Booth wrote out a note to Stuart on a page he had cut from his little memorandum book. It was meant to insult Stuart for his inhospitable treatment. Booth underscored his displeasure by writing Stuart, “It is not the substance, but the manner in which a kindness is extended that makes one happy in the acceptance thereof.”21 Booth then quoted a line from Macbeth: “The sauce in meat is ceremony; meeting were bare without it.” To add insult to injury, Booth attached $2.50 to the note in payment for the food Stuart begrudgingly gave him.22 Booth signed the note “Stranger.”
Charley Lucas reached Port Conway sometime around ten o’clock.23 Once an important port of commerce, the village had all but been abandoned to the ghosts of a thriving past. It lay at the confluence of two major highways that carried goods north and south as well as east and west. In colonial days, large hogsheads of tobacco made their way from the surrounding countryside to the village, where they were picked up by merchant vessels heading to foreign ports. While tobacco was still the lifeblood of the region, it had long flowed into other veins, leaving Port Conway dry. The community was now reduced to a few residences, a store, and an abandoned warehouse. William Rollins and his wife owned the small store. Rollins had only recently married a young girl by the name of Bettie who tended store for the occasional customers who found themselves in need of odd staples.24
Herold helped Booth out of the wagon and over to a pier where he could rest comfortably. Swollen and throbbing, his leg continued to be a source of severe pain. Lucas bid good riddance to his passengers and headed back toward his father’s cabin. Port Conway had a small ferry that was operated from the Port Royal, or far side, of the river. Booth and Herold could see the ferry barge sitting on the far bank unattended. After setting Booth on the pier, Herold hallooed for anyone who might be around. William Rollins appeared shortly and greeted the two men. Apparently unknown to Herold was the fact that Rollins, like so many of those who handled Booth, was the signal corps agent at this point along the river.25 He asked what he could do for them. Herold repeated the old story that he and his “brother” were soldiers recently surrendered by General Lee. The brother, whom he introduced as James W. Boyd, had injured his leg defending Petersburg. Herold’s choice of an alias fit nicely with a set of small initials (J.W.B.) Booth had inked into the skin on his left hand when still a young boy. Herold told Rollins they were headed for Orange County and needed to cross the river. Could Rollins take the pair over in his boat? They offered Rollins ten dollars to guide them to Orange County Court House. If not, they would pay him two dollars to take them in his wagon to Bowling Green.26 Rollins said he could take them across the river but they would have to wait until he set out his nets. The shad were running now and they would wait for no one. Rollins knew that the two men could wait, his fish could not. He told Herold he would be back in a while. Rollins then rowed out into the river with his Black helper, and the two men began tending their nets.
While Booth and Herold sat waiting for Rollins to return, three men approached the pier on horseback. They were dressed in Confederate army uniforms. Booth sat quietly as the gregarious Herold once again assumed the role of spokesman. He made his way to where the trio had stopped. Two of the soldiers had dismounted and were looking for Rollins as he set his nets in the river. They were looking for the ferry to take them across.
Herold walked over to the men and, slapping the haunch of one of the horses, introduced himself as David Boyd. He told the soldiers the other man was his brother James. He had hurt his leg at Petersburg.27 Where did the soldiers come from? he asked. They told Herold that they had recently been with Mosby and had stood down with the rest of his command only a few days earlier. They were on their way to Caroline County just over the river. The youngest soldier was Absalom Bainbridge. He was seventeen and had been a private in Company B of the Third Virginia Infantry. The next youngest was William S. Jett. Eighteen years old, Willie Jett had served as a private in Company C of the Ninth Virginia Cavalry. Seated on the horse and senior in rank and age was Mortimer Ruggles. Ruggles was a lieutenant who had served as second in command to Thomas Nelson Conrad in his spy operation in northern Virginia.28 Ruggles was the son of Major General Daniel Ruggles. General Ruggles had been assigned duty as commissary general of prisoners in the closing weeks of the war. Born in Massachusetts, Daniel Ruggles had married a Virginia woman and settled in the Fredericksburg area. At one point Mortimer Ruggles had served as an aide on his father’s staff. By the closing days of the war all three men had wound up with Mosby.
On hearing the men had served with Mosby, Herold brightened up. Here were men who could be trusted. “I will tell you something,” he said. “We are the assassinators of the President. That man sitting there is John Wilkes Booth.”29 Herold had gotten their attention. They now looked hard at him and his “brother” sitting on the pier. Herold said they needed help. They wanted to cross the river and needed a place to stay. Could the soldiers help? The man still on hors
eback was listening intently as Herold spoke. The two younger men turned toward the officer as if looking for a sign. He gave it with an approving nod of his head. They would help.
It was near noon when the ferry started back across the river from the Port Royal side. A free Black named James Thornton operated it. Reaching the Port Conway side, Thornton looped a restraining rope around one of the posts sunk deep into the bank of the river. Ruggles gave up his mount to Booth and climbed up behind Bainbridge. Herold rode double behind Jett.30 There was a sixth passenger on Thornton’s ferry whom most authors have overlooked. His name was Enoch Mason, and he had served as a courier in King George County with the Fifteenth Virginia Cavalry.31
Mason lived not too far south of Dr. Stuart’s summer home at Cleydael. Like Ruggles, Jett, and Bainbridge, Mason was traveling south away from his home in King George County. Jett apparently wanted to go to Bowling Green to visit with Izora Gouldman, the daughter of Henry Gouldman, who operated the Star Hotel in Bowling Green. Jett had interests in Izora that would eventually fade away. But for now he wanted very much to see her. Bainbridge was on his way to visit the Clarke family, whose son Joseph had served with him during the war. Ruggles was apparently following his two younger comrades. Mason later claimed that he was going to Bowling Green to try and buy a wagon. The sale was never consummated, and he returned north of the Rappahannock two days later on the twenty-sixth.32 While the presence of these four Confederate soldiers in the area was not suspect, the direction they were traveling was. All four lived north of the Rappahannock, not south. Was it possible they had been detailed from Mosby to King George to look for the assassins of Lincoln and proffer whatever help they could?
Mason’s presence at this crucial time has led the authors of Come Retribution to speculate about his actions. They suggest that Mason might have been reporting to his contacts at Milford Station where the Confederacy operated a telegraph that was still operational and guarded by the remnants of the Ninth Virginia Cavalry.33 If Booth and Herold were being handled under orders from Confederate sources, word of their movement needed to be known. Mason was just one of the many little informational dots that filled the landscape covering Booth’s escape.
The ferry with its six passengers landed on the Port Royal side of the river around two o’clock. The sun would be setting in a little over four hours and Booth needed a place to stay.34 Jett suggested they try the home of Randolph Peyton and his two sisters, who lived in a large house only two blocks from the ferry slip. Jett knew the family, or perhaps most important, the family knew Jett.35
Arriving at the house, Jett found the two sisters, Sarah Jane and Lucy Peyton, alone. Their brother Randolph was away on business. Sarah Jane and Lucy were both spinsters. Jett told the ladies about the two soldiers from Maryland. They were good Confederate men. One of the men was recovering from a wound received at Petersburg. Could they spend the night at their house and rest? At first the ladies felt obliged and thought it would be all right, but looking the two men over had second thoughts. They demurred, explaining to Jett their brother Randolph was away and not expected to return for another day. It would not be appropriate to have two strange men, even though they may be Confederate soldiers, stay the night in the spinsters’ home. Jett accepted their reasoning.
Returning to where the men were waiting astride their horses, he told them they would have to move on. He knew of two other possibilities. Just down the road was the farmhouse of Richard Garrett; failing that, there was Gouldman’s hotel farther along in Bowling Green. Jett knew of Richard Garrett, having seen him at the courthouse while on duty in the area. The Garretts were a hospitable family. Jett felt sure the two men would be welcome at their place.
The five of them passed by the few remaining houses along the road toward Bowling Green and headed south in the direction of Garrett’s farm. It was now close to three o’clock on the afternoon of April 24. Booth and Herold had been on the run for ten days. They would soon have to run no more. Their journey was nearing its end.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
The Cavalry Arrives
The Major-General commanding directs that you detail twenty-five men, well mounted, to be commanded by a reliable and discreet commissioned officer, to report at once to Col. L.C. Baker.
Lieutenant A.R. Sewall
U.S. highway 301 passes over the Rappahannock River not more than a hundred yards from where the old ferry ran between Port Conway and Port Royal. Vestiges of the original site remain as a boat ramp on the Port Royal side where local sportsmen can float their boats onto the gently meandering river. The village of Port Royal gives the modern-day traveler the appearance of a mini-Williamsburg waiting to happen. Old wood-frame homes, their brick chimneys slowly crumbling, sit as dying symbols of an earlier, more prosperous era. Many of the homes appear abandoned.
Three miles south of Port Royal the median strip of the divided highway broadens to a point where two hundred feet of dense underbrush and scrub pine separate the northbound and southbound lanes. The site sits out in the middle of nowhere, identifiable only by a state highway marker whose black letters have slowly faded to a dull gray.
On special Saturdays in the spring and fall of each year a large bus pulls off of the highway and empties its cargo of avid enthusiasts onto the gravel shoulder of the northbound lane. With its leader in front, the line of people snakes its way through the underbrush to the center of the median strip. There is a heightened anticipation among the group as they carefully step through the tall grass. The leader cautions his followers to walk with care, looking out for stickers and other nasty weeds. Arriving at a small clearing the people gather around an old iron pipe sticking a few inches above the ground. Attached to the top of the pipe is a small plastic sleeve. Inside the sleeve is a card containing the following words: “Exact northeast corner of the Garrett farmhouse as ascertained by Bob Bergantino. The Garrett farmhouse fell in on itself in the late-1930’s. This stake courtesy of the Surratt Society.”
Invariably the group falls silent as it senses the history that played out here. A woman, in her forties, clutches a small locket suspended from a chain around her neck. Inside the locket is a picture of John Wilkes Booth. She has followed his footsteps into every nook and cranny of his short, infamous life. Such is the strange and bizarre fascination this story holds.
The stake marks the site of the farmhouse of Richard Garrett. Here in the first hours of dawn on April 26, 1865, John Wilkes Booth died, twelve days after murdering the president of United States. Both men died unaware of their killer. Both men gained immortality because of their deaths. John Wilkes Booth’s death brought an end to a tragic period in American history and marked the beginning of another.
When the three Confederate soldiers and their two companions arrived at Richard Garrett’s farm on the afternoon of April 24 it was just after three o’clock. Willie Jett once again assumed the roll of sponsor. Jett asked the elder Garrett if the two soldiers could rest for a day or two at his house before pushing on. The lame man, James Boyd, had been injured at Petersburg in the closing moments before that city was abandoned. He was tired and worn out from his wound. The old man did not hesitate. Of course the man could stay, and he would be welcome to the hospitality of a Virginia gentleman and his house. Jett was much obliged and thanked Garrett. He and his friends would leave now along with the injured man’s companion, but they would return the next morning. They had other business to attend to. The four men returned to the main road and headed south toward Bowling Green, leaving Booth standing on the porch.
The four men had traveled three miles when they came to a small log building located just off of the road to Bowling Green. Known locally as the Trap, it was run by a woman named Carter, who had four daughters. Mrs. Carter and the four Carter sisters had a reputation in the area that attracted men. Today was no exception. The four men dismounted and spent the next hour or so “visiting” with the Carter sisters while Mother Carter provided the drinks. Having finished their
business, the four men continued on their journey to Bowling Green.1 The passing dalliance would ultimately prove fatal to Booth and Herold.
Shortly after sundown the men arrived at the Star Hotel in Bowling Green where Jett and Ruggles decided to rest for the night. Herold and Bainbridge continued on past Bowling Green to the farm of Mrs. Virginia Clarke where they stayed the night.2 Back at the Garrett house Booth was displaying his usual charm by entertaining the Garretts and Miss Lucinda Hollaway, Mrs. Garrett’s sister. Lucinda was a schoolteacher whose intellect was the perfect foil for the handsome houseguest. Booth’s spirits were buoyed. Making use of a pillow provided by the elder Garrett, Booth had slept for several hours. When he awoke, he felt invigorated.3 The throbbing in his leg had subsided appreciably. Things were beginning to look up.
Tuesday morning dawned bright and shiny. Spring was in the air and nowhere was it more beautiful than in Virginia. The redbud trees were covered with deep pink blossoms, which formed a showy contrast against the white sprays of the sarvis trees. The usual sharp chill of early spring had been replaced by a balmy freshness.4 The air was filled with the smell of moist earth and floral renewal. Booth felt better than he had felt in nearly two weeks. It was the first night he had slept in a bed, dry and comfortable, since he stayed at Dr. Mudd’s nine days earlier.
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