Coming up the road on their return from Bowling Green were Davy Herold and his two friends from Mosby’s command. Ruggles was in the lead with Herold and Bainbridge in the rear. Willie Jett had decided to stay on in Bowling Green and court the sixteen-year-old Izora Gouldman. The fighting was over, and it was time to return to loving. Booth sat on the Garrett porch watching the three men slowly ride up the lane toward the house. He hallooed to the men, and young Davy hallooed back. Davy could tell Booth felt better, and that made him feel better. Bainbridge pulled up to the porch, where Herold slid off his mount and joined Booth on the porch as the four men shook hands one last time. Booth thanked the soldiers and “God blessed” them once again as they rode out toward the main gate and turned in the direction of Port Royal. Things were indeed looking better.
It was late afternoon when Ruggles and Bainbridge approached the village of Port Royal. As they made their way over the top of the hill they could see the small village before them. Off in the distance they could just make out the ferry barge in the middle of the river. Ruggles pulled up abruptly. Along the shore near the ferry slip he could make out what looked like several horses and men. The ferry barge was also loaded with horses and men. The two soldiers stared hard. Sure enough, there before their eyes was a troop of Union cavalry: twenty or thirty horsemen. The two horsemen instinctively turned around and, pressing their spurs into the flanks of their mounts, began racing back in the direction of the Garrett farm.
The troopers, under the command of Lieutenant Edward P. Doherty, consisted of a select group chosen from the Sixteenth New York Cavalry stationed in Washington. Joining Doherty and his men were two former army officers, Luther B. Baker and Everton J. Conger. Baker and Conger had served in the First District of Columbia Cavalry and had mustered out early in 1865, joining the staff of Colonel Lafayette C. Baker as members of the organization he called the National Detective Police. The Sixteenth New York was serving as part of the Defenses of Washington under the Twenty-second Army Corps. For much of the last two years of the war they scouted throughout much of northern Virginia and Loudoun County on the trail of the elusive Mosby. Their service was not wholly without combat, however, having lost twenty-one men in battle. How this particular detachment of troopers came to be so close to the two fugitives on the twenty-fifth is an ironic tale in itself. Like so many of the incidents in this greatest of all manhunts, it began on a false premise.
On Monday, April 24, as Charley Lucas brought his wagon up to the ferry slip at Port Conway, a strange turn of events was taking place in Washington. The War Department telegraph office was located on the first floor of the War Department building near the west end of the White House. To Lincoln, it was the war room, center of all information. On the morning of April 24, with Booth still at large, Lafayette Baker was visiting Major Thomas Eckert at the telegraph office. Eckert, who was in charge of the office, had been going through the night’s telegrams looking for news from Sherman, who was closing in on Confederate general Joe Johnston in North Carolina. While Baker and Eckert were talking, a telegram was received from the Federal station at Chapel Point in Charles County.5 It was close to 11:00 A.M. Major James R. O’Beirne, provost marshal of Washington, had taken several men and headed for Charles County, where he was scouring the coastal area looking for information about Booth and Herold. O’Beirne interviewed one of the local farmers who told him that his son had seen two men crossing the Potomac River on Sunday morning, April 16. O’Beirne assumed the two men had to be Booth and Herold. It was, of course, a case of mistaken identity. Booth and Herold were at that time safely tucked away in the pine thicket under the watchful eye of Thomas Jones. They would not attempt to cross the Potomac for four more days. The men crossing the river on Sunday, April 16, were in all probability Thomas Harbin and Joseph Baden. James Owens, an employee at the Newport Tavern, located near the mouth of the Wicomico River, admitted to his interrogators two days after Booth was killed that he rowed Harbin and Baden across the Potomac River on April 16.6 Owens’s information came too late.
Eckert handed the telegram to Baker. Baker read the telegram and immediately headed for Stanton’s office located in the same building. Stanton and Baker conferred. It seemed clear to both men that it was Booth and Herald who slipped across the Potomac to Virginia. Stanton had no doubt that the two men who left Mudd’s house Saturday evening were Booth and Herald. It would have taken them until Sunday morning to reach the river. It made good sense. This was the first positive piece of evidence to come into Stanton’s office since Lovett brought news of Booth and Herold’s being at Dr. Mudd’s.
Stanton immediately wrote out an order to General Augur, who already had sent elements of the Thirteenth New York Cavalry off to lower Maryland and Bryantown.7 Stanton told Augur to provide Baker with twenty-five troopers, an officer, and a vessel to transport the men down the Potomac to Belle Plaine on the Virginia side of the river where they could begin the search for Booth and Herold. While the sighting was a week old, it was the first definite news the military had in their search. Dana and his men would remain in Bryantown, their chance having slipped away days earlier when Booth and Herold were holed up at Mudd’s house.
The man Stanton entrusted this latest information to was one of the war’s most notorious characters. Lafayette C. Baker’s past was shrouded in confusion due to his penchant for lying. He had served as provost marshal of the War Department, colonel of the First District of Columbia Cavalry, and finally, under the title “Agent, War Department.” Baker soon gained the confidence of both Stanton and Seward and served as head of his small investigative unit, the National Detective Police. Later he referred to this unit as the United States Secret Service.8 Baker himself did not ride after Booth. He would entrust that task to his closest confidants. The man Baker would hand pick to command his posse was a combat veteran, Colonel Everton Judson Conger. Baker had picked Conger from among several officers in the Veteran Reserve Corps to take command of the chief’s own regiment, the First District of Columbia Cavalry.9
Although Baker was the commanding officer of the First District of Columbia Cavalry, he rarely was with the regiment. Command devolved to Conger, and when Baker was told he could have twenty-six troopers from the Sixteenth New York, he wanted one of his own men in charge, if only nominally. He selected Everton Conger. Conger was a battle-tested veteran, having served in the West Virginia Third Cavalry where he had twice been wounded; later, with the First District of Columbia Cavalry, he received a third, more serious wound. While on a cavalry raid near Richmond on June 24, 1864, Conger was shot in the hip.10 He was returned to Washington where he convalesced. When he was finally recovered, Baker assigned Conger to his office with the National Detective Police. Conger was a competent, no-nonsense soldier whose record showed numerous successes. Baker had picked the best man in his office to accompany the Sixteenth New York in its pursuit of Booth.
Baker had summoned Lieutenant Edward P. Doherty of the Sixteenth New York Cavalry to his office along with Conger. Doherty would be in immediate command of the twenty-six troopers assigned from the Sixteenth New York. To this group Baker would add his cousin Luther B. Baker. In calling on Doherty, Baker wanted to introduce Conger to him and go over their instructions.
When Baker first learned that Booth was the assassin, he commandeered the photographic facilities of the surgeon general’s office. During the early hours of Saturday, April 15, he had several photographs of Booth reproduced for distribution to his agents. Just which image of Booth—and how it came into the hands of the military searching for him—has been the cause of confusion among several writers. Baker’s use of the surgeon general’s photographic facilities is learned from a letter written by Assistant Surgeon General Charles H. Crane that survives today in a private collection. In his letter Crane writes, “We still have hope that the murderer Booth will be captured. I send you his picture. We had a number struck off in our ‘gallery’ last Saturday [April 15] to distribute throughout the country.�
��11 The “gallery” was the name of the surgeon general’s photographic facility, and the picture Crane included with his letter is a particular image known today as “Gutman No. 35.” The photograph had been taken by the Boston firm of Silsbee, Case and Company as one of two views shot during the same sitting. It subsequently became known as the “wanted poster view” because it was used on several of the wanted posters put out by the government.12
Now that he had Stanton’s approval, Baker called Conger, Lieutenant Doherty, and Captain Joseph Schneider of the Sixteenth New York into his office to go over the search party’s instructions and give the men photographs of Booth to be used in the search. Captain Schneider later stated, “I saw Captain Doherty13 have some circulars and photographs in his hands.”14 These were the images Baker had made in the surgeon general’s “gallery” and were carried by Conger and the Sixteenth New York as it searched for Booth.
In 1937, historian Otto Eisenschiml was the first to suggest Lincoln’s murder was a great conspiracy involving Stanton and Baker. Among his many misleading claims, Eisenschiml wrote that the photographs used by the prosecutors at the trial of the conspirators and those distributed to the search party were not of John Wilkes Booth. In examining the trial exhibits located in the War Department files at the time of his research, Eisenschiml discovered a photograph of Edwin Booth in place of John Wilkes Booth. Eisenschiml concluded erroneously that Stanton and Baker had engineered a photographic switch giving Conger and Doherty a copy of Edwin Booth’s photograph instead of his brother John. The purpose of this devious switch, according to Eisenschiml, was to confuse identification efforts, thus allowing Booth time to escape. Crane’s letter belies Eisenschiml’s claim and confirms subsequent research that has shown that the picture carried by Conger and Doherty was a picture of John Wilkes Booth and not of his brother Edwin.15
Shortly after sundown on Monday, April 24, troopers from the Sixteenth New York Cavalry boarded the steamer John S. Ide. Accompanying the soldiers were Conger, Baker, and Doherty. The men safely aboard, the steamer headed down the Potomac forty miles to an abandoned military base known as Belle Plaine located near the western boundary of King George County, Virginia. Belle Plaine was only twelve miles as the crow flies from Port Conway. The men were unloaded at 10:00 P.M. and headed south toward the Rappahannock River. On reaching the river, they swung east toward Port Conway.16 They began beating on doors and dragging bewildered residents from their house at gunpoint. Two men—one lame—were they here? Talk! The tactics were frightening. They were meant to be. The troopers were tired, hungry, and in enemy territory. Rebels had murdered their president. They were not interested in clever interrogation tactics. The local people were not about to risk their lives or their homes to protect two fugitives on the run. It was not hard to get the truth.
At one point the party separated into two groups to facilitate covering the area. The two posses came together again at Port Conway just before noon on Tuesday morning, April 25. Here they found William Rollins tending his nets. Conger had arrived first and had taken the opportunity to take a short nap before the others arrived. He was exhausted and suffering from his old wounds. Just before reaching Port Conway, Doherty and Baker had questioned Dick Wilson, the free Black who had helped Rollins with his fish nets when Booth and Herold were trying to negotiate their way across the river. Wilson had seen two men fitting Baker’s description the day before. Doherty and Baker had one of the troopers wake Conger. Now the three men squared off at William Rollins.
Intimidated by the cavalrymen, Rollins talked freely. Two men had crossed the river the afternoon before. Yes, one was lame. Baker showed Rollins a photograph of Booth. The injured man looked like the one in the photograph. Rollins had noticed one difference, however. The man who crossed on the ferry did not have a moustache.17 One other point Rollins made. The two civilians had crossed over on the ferry with some Confederate soldiers. One was a fellow named Willie Jett. Did Rollins know where they were headed? No, he didn’t.18 Then Rollins’s young wife entered into the conversation. Bettie Rollins knew that Jett was “sparking” the Gouldmans’ young daughter, Izora.19 Gouldman operated the Star Hotel in Bowling Green. Conger was told that if he wanted to find Willie Jett he might look for Izora Gouldman. Izora was a very pretty girl. Jett had probably already forgotten about the war and the two men.
Conger told Rollins to get his horse. He would have to guide them to Bowling Green. Rollins hesitated. He told Conger he would do it, of course, but could Conger make it look like he was under arrest. Rollins had to be careful of his neighbors. Helping Yankees was not something he wanted to show on his resume. Conger agreed. Just get the damn horse and hurry. The troopers sensed they were getting close. On Monday morning they were five days behind Booth and Herold, now it appeared they were less than a day behind. They were closing the gap and Conger could smell success.
Conger put three troopers in Rollins’s boat and told them to cross the river and bring the ferry back over. Within thirty minutes the ferry was back on the Port Conway side of the river. It took five complete passes, totaling three hours, before all twenty-six troopers and their horses could be carried over to the Port Royal side. The time was costly, and Conger and his comrades were impatient. As each contingent was unloaded it collected its horses and sat waiting for the next load. Doherty had instructed his sergeant, Boston Corbett, to wait on the far side of the river and keep the men together after they had crossed. This was the scene that Ruggles and Bainbridge saw as they crested the hill leading into Port Royal. Blue bellies and lots of them. The two Confederates were savvy soldiers. It was a search party, no doubt about it. The puzzling question is why Ruggles and Bainbridge risked their paroles to return and warn Booth. It could have cost the Confederates dearly.
When the last load of men and horses made their way across the river, the troopers mounted up and started south toward Bowling Green. As Doherty and Baker headed up the long rise that led out of the village they noticed two horsemen standing on the crest of the hill in the far distance. They appeared for only a few seconds, then quickly vanished behind the horizon.20
Ruggles and Bainbridge had come dangerously close to riding into the Sixteenth New York as it rode out of Port Royal. Turning back, the two Confederates reached the Garret place where they found Booth relaxing on the porch. Ruggles wasted no time in alerting Booth of the approaching troopers, then headed out at a gallop. Booth’s pleasant demeanor quickly changed. Yankee cavalry had ruined his day. The two men were on their own now. Ruggles had done all he could. Booth and Herold gathered themselves up and headed toward the wooded area as Jack Garrett watched in puzzlement. The two strangers seemed excited.
Another thirty minutes and the young Garrett knew why. The Sixteenth New York came riding toward the Garrett farm, dust flying everywhere. Reaching the far end of the lane that led from the main road to the house, the posse continued riding past. Within a few minutes they were gone, leaving only clouds of dust in their wake. Garrett turned around and looked over toward the woods where he saw Davy Herold slowly emerge from the underbrush. The young man turned and motioned for his “brother” to come out of the woods. The two men slowly made their way back to the front porch where a suspicious Jack Garrett was standing.
Watching the two make their way back toward the house, Jack Garrett started to have a bad feeling about his father’s houseguests. Booth was especially anxious to be taken to Orange Court House, which lay approximately fifty miles west of the Garrett place.21 Jack Garrett had led Booth to believe he would take him there the next day, but he was now becoming increasingly wary of the two men after seeing their reaction to the Yankee cavalry galloping past. Garrett began to suspect foul play. Fearing the two men might steal the Garretts’ horses during the night, Garrett told them they would have to sleep in the tobacco barn. He said that if the Yankees were to catch the pair inside his father’s house, they might well burn it to the ground. Garrett was not making up a lame excuse. The Yankees might well
burn the house if the two Confederate fugitives were found hiding in it. Booth agreed. He had little choice. He and Herold would bed down in the tobacco barn. To make sure they would stay there, the Garret brothers placed a lock on the barn door and decided to sleep in a corncrib nearby, taking turns watching the barn.22
About three miles south of Garrett’s the troopers came to the Trap. The men reined up and Conger, Baker, and Doherty went inside. They found the Carter ladies inside. Baker began questioning them but was having little luck. The Carter ladies were not very communicative. Loose talk could seriously hurt their business. They had no personal grudge against Yankees. In fact, the better part of business was color-blind. Blue or gray, it didn’t matter, but it wasn’t a lady’s place to talk about her clients. Then the wiley Conger decided to try a ploy. He explained that the reason they wanted to find these men and arrest them had nothing to do with the war. It seems one of the men had beaten and raped a young girl. It was an outrage that could not go unpunished. Conger hit a nerve. It was indeed an outrage.23
The Carter ladies loosened up. Yes, four soldiers had visited them the day before on their way home. But none of the men appeared to be lame. To be sure, they all could walk just fine, even with their boots off. One of the men lived locally, a young man named Willie Jett. He was one of the four. They didn’t know where they were headed except in the direction of Bowling Green. There had been a reference to a Mrs. Clarke (Baker thought the name was “Graham”).24 Perhaps some of the party might be at her house. The ladies then said that three of the men had returned the next day heading toward Port Royal. Willie Jett, however, was not one of them. The men thanked the ladies and went back outside. A brief discussion followed. Should they return to Port Royal and retrace their steps or continue on to Bowling Green. It wasn’t clear if Booth had been to the Trap or not. Doherty wanted to continue on. Jett had been at the Trap for certain. Doherty’s reasoning was that even if Booth had not accompanied Jett and the others to the Trap, Jett would know where Booth was. A bird in the hand was worth two in the bush. Doherty’s argument won. The men agreed to go to the Star Hotel where they hoped to find Jett.25
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