Previously: Booth shoots Lincoln and breaks leg in escape. Stanton’s henchman Lafayette Baker takes Christy’s body to an embalmer. Booth and Herold escape across the river into Maryland where they hide in the Zekiah Swamp. Baker enlists his cousin’s help to save Booth’s life. Booth arrives at Garrett’s farm.
Luther Baker felt confident the next morning, April 25. As soon as the 16th New York Cavalry arrived in Port Conway, he spotted a black ferry operator, sweeping the deck of his boat. Riding up to the dock Luther called out to him.
“Hey you! I got some questions!”
The man put his broom aside and walked down the gangplank. “What can I do for you, sir?”
“We’re on the hunt for the men who assassinated the President.”
“What can I do to help?”
“Have you seen two men, one of them with a broken leg?”
“I seen a man with a lame leg but there was five of them, though. They wasn’t too pleasant, if you ask me. Didn’t even pay the toll. I took them across to Port Royal.”
“Five men?”
“Three Confederates, sir.”
“So they’ve enlisted help,” Luther said almost to himself.
“I don’t think so, sir. I know the boys, and they’re all local. I know one in particular real well, Willie Jett. He comes through here all the time.”
“Then we want to go to Port Royal,” Luther replied. What’s your name, boy?”
“James Thornton, sir. My boss, Mr. Champe Thornton, has instructed me to operate his boat while he attends to other matters. You and your men can board right now if you like, sir, but all your men have to get down off your horses for the trip. And it’s gonna take three trips to get you all across. That’s two whole hours. You got a problem with that?”
“Why no. It’s still the fastest way to get to Port Royal. And who would want to ride their horse on a boat?” Luther asked.
“The man with the lame leg.”
Luther rode back and forth on the ferry three times, staying by Thornton’s side asking him more questions about the Confederates.
“The other two are Mortimer Ruggles and Absalom Bainridge. Those gentlemen like to visit a tavern called the Trappe for the horizontal entertainments, if you know what I mean. It’s on the road between Port Royal and Bowling Green. Now the first gentleman, Mr. Willie Jett, don’t indulge in such activities because he’s courting a right nice young lady by the name of Izora Gouldman whose father runs a very respectable hotel in Bowling Green. Any time you want to find Mr. Willie you go to the Bowling Green hotel and that’s where he’s likely to be. The Star, that’s name of Mr. Gouldman’s place, the Star Hotel.”
After the third trip across the Rappahannock, Baker leaned into Thornton to whisper, “I wouldn’t be surprised if when you return you find a solitary gentleman on horseback waiting for you. He’s my cousin. A short, husky man with red hair. Most important of all, he will have a second horse carrying an unusual bundle. Do not ask anything about it, but deliver him to Port Royal as quickly as possible.” He handed Thornton a fist of silver coins. “Here’s the toll, and a little extra to take care of my cousin.”
***
Booth and Herold slept late the morning of April 25. The Garretts had given them the best bedroom in the house. Supper the night earlier was satisfying, excellent food, and the family around the table was very attentive as Booth regaled them with an invented story of how he was wounded at Petersburg as part of A.P. Hill’s division. On his trip home to Maryland he encountered a troop of Yankees. He cursed them and shot at them, causing the troops to chase him back into the hinterlands of Virginia. Booth warned the family that Union soldiers might be arriving at the farm to inquire as to his whereabouts. Garrett’s three young daughters, Lillian, Cora and Henrietta were particularly enthralled with Mr. Boyd, as Booth called himself. Afterwards he sat on the porch with the old man smoking a pipe with tobacco cured in Garrett’s own barn. The three girls lingered by the screen door and giggled.
Booth spent late morning lying under an apple tree telling stories to the sisters and teaching them how to read a compass. Garrett’s eldest son was late for lunch, and when he sat at the table with the family he announced the Richmond newspapers reported the reward for Lincoln’s assassin had risen to $140,000.”
“Well,” Lillian commented, “I suppose the man was paid to kill the president.”
Booth, swallowing hard on his potatoes, replied, “It is my opinion, he was not paid a cent but instead did it for notoriety’s sake.”
“Notoriety’s sake?” Coral repeated with a laugh. “Any man who would commit murder for notoriety’s sake must be insane!”
The family laughed long and hard at Cora’s comment, giving Booth the opportunity to tamp down his anger. He could tell Herold wanted to reply, but he caught the young man’s attention and shook his head no. Herold remained silent.
After lunch, Booth and his companion adjourned to the front porch where they luxuriated most of the afternoon, drinking in the vista of rolling green hills, salted with white-petalled Dogwood trees. A brilliant red Cardinal and his mate were building their nest in an oak tree at the corner of the farmhouse veranda, keeping the men company and providing them conversation fodder as they discussed the birds’ progress. In the distance a cow lowed peacefully. It was idyllic.
Late in the day, Garrett walked out with a well-worn school map of the Southern states and sat next to them.
“I’m sure you gentlemen will want to be on your way soon. Here’s a map so you may plot your journey back to Maryland.”
“That’s right neighborly of you, sir,” Herold replied with a crooked grin. “I imagine we could waste a bunch of time going up and down the countryside looking for home if left to our own devices.”
As the three of them pored over the map, noise from the road interrupted their study, causing them to gape in the direction of the sound.
“There goes some of your party right now,” Garrett commented pleasantly.
“Please get my pistols in the bedroom.” Booth voice was tense.
“Why would you want your pistols?” the old man asked.
“You go and get my pistols!” Booth bellowed.
Garrett pulled back and frowned a moment before rising to go into the house. Booth ordered Herold to help him to his feet and hand him his crutches, saying they should hide in the woods behind the tobacco barn until the riders pass. They had only made it halfway to the trees when they realized the riders were Jett, Ruggles and Bainbridge.
“Marylanders, you’d better watch out!” Jett yelled. “There are forty Yankees coming up the hill!”
“How do you know that?” Herold asked, fear tinging his voice.
“We saw them from a bluff overlooking the ferry landing. Half the soldiers are across and the last bunch ain’t far behind,” Ruggles said, huffing. “I think they saw us.”
“Maybe we ought to go with you right now,” Herold suggested.
“No, we’re better off here,” Booth countered.
“I suggest hiding out so they won’t see you,” Bainbridge warned. “They’ll be coming down this same road. We’re going to lay low in Bowling Green until they pass.”
“Good luck!” Ruggles shouted, as the three Confederates turned their horses and continued on the road to Bowling Green.
By this time, Garrett returned with the guns. Booth hobbled to him followed by Herold.
“My apologies, sir,” Booth said in his best sincere tones. “You were right. Those were our companions from yesterday. They were just paying their respects before moving on.”
Garrett studied Booth’s face before replying, “I’d never seen a man turn so passionate so fast as you did when you saw the men on horseback.”
“I told you when we arrived we had Federals chasing us,” Booth said in defense.
“Yeah, we don’t want to see those damn Yankees again,” Herold interjected. “I don’t rightly know if mounted cavalry could travel that fast to get to Port Conway and beyond. What do you think, Mr. Garrett?”
“Oh, I don’t think so.” Garrett looked off and scratched his head. “It might be good if you caught up with your friends, where ever they might be going.”
“We intend on staying here all night.” An ill-tempered edge crept back into Booth’s voice.
“I’ll be honest with you, gentlemen. My suspicions have been aroused in the last hour. We are peaceable citizens, and we don’t want to get into any trouble with the government.”
“Oh, there ain’t no chance we’ll bring any danger to you and your family,” Herold said with a laugh. “Hmm, what does the missus have planned for supper? I’m beginning to get hungry.”
Before Garrett could answer, a thunderous rumble arose beyond the rise toward Port Royal. Dust lifted along the horizon.
“Now, that has to be the Yankee troops coming,” Garrett announced in irritation.
“Let’s skedaddle!” Herold yelped, turning to run to the woods.
Booth grabbed his arm. “We don’t have time. If they see us running, they will know something is awry.” He dropped his crutches and put his hand on Herold’s shoulder to balance himself. “Now we are merely three men standing in the farmyard having a leisurely conversation.”
Calmly they watched forty mounted cavalry gallop by on their way to Bowling Green. After they passed, Garrett wagged a finger at them.
“This is the last straw! You men must leave now!”
“Davey, pick up my crutches,” Booth said calmly. After Herold retrieved them and Booth was standing on his own, he continued in a soft voice, “If that is your wish, but we must have a wagon. The pain in my leg is intolerable. I cannot continue on horseback. We have money. We will buy a wagon ride.”
“I know a man about a mile away. He might take you anywhere,” Garrett replied.
Herold fumbled in his pockets and pulled out a bill, “Here’s a Secretary Chase note. Will this do?”
Garrett grabbed it. “I’ll make sure it’ll do.” He turned to the stable for his horse. “I’ll be back with the wagon in no time.”
They settled back on the porch. Booth pulled out the pouch of Garrett’s tobacco and filled his pipe.
“Tell me again how you cut that Army officer at the theater,” Herold said with a puppy-dog look in his eyes.
A couple of hours passed, and the sun began to dip below the skyline when Garrett rode back down the road. When he dismounted, he frowned. “The man wasn’t home. His wife didn’t know when he’d be back. She also said the troops stopped at her house to ask if she had seen a couple of white men, one of them lame.” He handed the bill back to Herold. “I’ll drive you in my wagon any place you want to go immediately. No charge.”
Booth smiled slightly and shook his head. “It’s too late now. It’d look suspicious if the Federals caught you out at night in a wagon. Feed us, give us a bed one more time and we’ll leave first thing in the morning.”
Garrett scowled. “You get supper, but I’ll be damned if I’ll give up my bed to you again. You and your brother—if that’s who he really is—can sleep in the tobacco barn.”