CHAPTER V.

UNRAVELLING THE PLOT.--PURSUIT AND CAPTURE OF BOOTH AND HEROLD.--DEATH OF BOOTH.

The most active measures were at once resorted to by the government to discover the conspirators, and to capture all who could be found of those engaged in it. The civil and military police, as also those engaged in the secret service of the government, were at once set to work. It was soon learned that Booth and a co-conspirator, which proved to be Herold, had passed over the navy-yard bridge, on horseback, very shortly after the hour at which the fatal shot had been fired, and were fleeing toward Surrattsville and Bryantown in Maryland. They had been allowed to pass by the sentinel at the bridge, having represented themselves as citizens on their way to their homes. Booth was first at the bridge, and gave his true name to the sentinel, saying that he lived close to Beautown. Five minutes later Herold came and gave his name as Smith, saying that he lived at White Plains and was on his way home. Having gotten safely on the road, they directly joined company, and pushed on rapidly, arriving at Surrattsville about midnight.

Stopping at Lloyd's tavern in Surrattsville, Herold dismounted and went into the house, saying to Lloyd, "For God's sake, make haste and get those things!" Lloyd, understanding what he wanted from the notification given him by Mrs. Surratt on the evening previous, without making any reply, went and got the carbines, which he had placed in his bedroom that they might be handy, and brought them to Herold, together with the ammunition and field-glass that had been deposited with him, and the two bottles of whiskey that Booth had ordered through Mrs. Surratt the evening before. Herold carried out to Booth one of the bottles of whiskey, drinking from his own bottle in the house before going out. Booth declined taking his carbine, saying his leg was broken and he could not carry it. As they were about leaving, Booth said to Lloyd, "I will tell you some news if you want to hear it"; and then went on to say, "I am pretty certain that we have assassinated the President and Secretary Seward." The moon was now up and shining brightly, and the two confessed criminals resumed their flight. The next heard of them was at the house of Dr. Samuel A. Mudd, near Bryantown, in Maryland, and about thirty miles from Washington, where they arrived at about four o'clock on the morning of the 15th, having travelled at the rate of six miles per hour.

Booth's leg had been broken by a fracture of the fibula, or small bone of the leg, when he fell on the stage on leaping from the President's box, and by this time had become very painful. He greatly needed the support of a splint, and quiet as well. He was in a position, however, to get neither; for although he had reached the house of a co-conspirator, who was a country doctor, and well disposed to render him all the aid he could, he appears to have made a very bungling out, dressing the broken limb with some pasteboard and a bandage that gave but a very imperfect support. As to the rest he required, that was impossible, for although Mudd placed him in an upstairs room and kept him until the afternoon, they were admonished by seeing a squad of soldiers under Lieutenant Dana passing down past Mudd's place, which was a quarter of a mile off the road to Bryantown, that there was no rest for the wicked; and as quickly as it could be done after the soldiers passed, Mudd got rid of his dangerous charge by sending them by an unfrequented route to the house of his friend and neighbor, Samuel Cox, about six miles nearer to the Potomac. Booth was on no new ground, neither amongst strangers either to his person or to his wicked purpose. He had spent a good deal of his time during the previous fall in that part of Maryland, preparing a way for his escape after accomplishing his purpose. His way had seemed clear to him in advance; his route had been selected; his friendly acquaintanceships secured. But, alas! the broken leg. Under the guise of looking at the country with a desire to purchase lands, he had perfected all his arrangements, and had expected to pass swiftly over his route, accompanied by Atzerodt (whose home was in this neighborhood, and who knew all about the contraband trade with the rebel capital, the underground mail route between Richmond and Washington, and all of the people engaged in these operations, and also the place and facilities for crossing the Potomac), and also by Payne and Herold. He had purposed to be safe on the soil of the Old Dominion e'er this time. Instead of realizing all this, he found himself a cripple, scarcely able to travel, and closely pursued by those whom he knew to be on his trail, with no other companion than his devoted but inefficient friend, Herold; and thus he was compelled to realize that

"The best laid schemes o' mice and men Gang aft aglee; And lea' us nought but grief and pain For promised joy."

Mudd had done all he could to relieve him, but dare not try to conceal and keep him. He could only forward him to the next stage of his journey and to a safe place of concealment. This he faithfully did. Cox lived near Port Tobacco, the home of Atzerodt; and as his was too public a place to afford safety to the fugitives, he turned them over to his neighbor, Thomas Jones, a contraband trader between Maryland and Richmond, who, in the midst of a constant scouring of the country by pursuing parties, kept his charge concealed in the woods near his house, supplying them with food and doing everything he could for their comfort, waiting and watching constantly to find an opportunity to get them across the Potomac. They were hunted so closely that they could hear the neighing of the horses of the troopers, and fearing they might be betrayed by their horses answering the calls, Herold led them into a swamp near where they lay concealed in the pines and shot them.

The river was being continually patroled by gun-boats, and the task of getting his wards across proved both difficult and dangerous to Jones. The proclamation of the Secretary of War, offering one hundred thousand dollars for the capture of Booth, and warning all persons from aiding the fugitives in any way in making their escape, had been published broadcast, yet Jones was true to his trust. Neither the offered rewards nor the warnings of the proclamation had any effect on him; but for a whole week he kept them secreted in the pines on his premises, where Booth lay night and day wrapped in a pair of blankets that had most likely been furnished him by Dr. Mudd. Finally, being furnished by Jones with a boat, they took their own risks and effected a crossing; but they were seen by a colored man, upon whose report General Baker got on their track and finally effected their capture.

There can be no doubt that Booth had selected this as the route for his escape months before, and that all of his visits to this part of Maryland had been made with reference to this plan. Being at length across the Potomac, even though under such unfavorable auspices, Booth no doubt drew a free and exultant breath at having been permitted to set his foot at last on the soil of the Old Dominion. He felt that he was now amongst friends who would aid him in his progress, or help him by concealment, as the case might require; and his friend Jones no doubt breathed with a freedom he had not known for some days at finding himself cut loose from his dangerous charge. Booth was greatly disappointed at the cold reception given him by the people on whom he had counted so much after crossing into Virginia. He had expected to be lionized and honored as the hero of the age; but instead of that he received a comparatively cold reception that stung his vanity like the poison of an asp.

It is true the people showed no disposition to betray him; but, at the same time, they manifested a disposition to enter into no compromising friendship with him, or in any way to assume any responsibility in his behalf by helping him to escape. How much of this was due to abhorrence of his crime, and how much to a dread of consequences, can only be a matter of conjecture. The fact that they were willing to let him escape, if he could, would throw the preponderance on the latter as the governing motive of their conduct. Sad, indeed, was Booth's condition at this time. More than a week had elapsed since he had perpetrated his great crime and commenced his guilty flight; and now he found himself on foot, so lame as scarcely to be able to walk a step, even with the help of a crutch, and scarcely more than fifty miles from his starting point. His companion in crime, Herold, was now the only human being on whose friendship and fidelity he could certainly rely. A reward of one hundred and seventy-five thousand dollars offered for his capture, the brand of Cain upon him, his fractured bone cutting into the flesh at every movement of his limb,--a constant admonition of a frowning Providence,--it is no wonder that the diurnal entries in his book begin to bear evidence of a remorse that can never be appeased. We can but pity his deplorable condition, for he was a fellow-man; but then he was at the same time a monster in crime, directed by hatred of a fellow-man without just cause, and of wickedness that had brought upon him the blood of one of the greatest and best of men, not only of his own age and country, but of all the ages of the world. When we contemplate his crime, our sympathies refuse to go with him, and our sense of justice finds a grateful feeling of relief in the evidence now clearly pointing to the fact that he is a doomed man.

By the aid of his blind follower, Herold, he is able to maintain his concealment, and after a wretched fashion to resume his flight in an old wagon drawn by two miserable horses and driven by a negro. In this state he reaches Port Conway, on the Rappahannock, in King George County, Virginia. Here his driver refuses to take him any further. It is just at this juncture and in this dilemma that they are met by three confederate soldiers, Major Ruggles, Lieutenant Bainbridge, and Captain William Jett, the latter of Moseby's command.

Herold, thinking they were recruiting for the rebel service, was quick to see in them a means of assistance in getting South, and under the protection of the stars and bars, and so revealed their identity, appealing to them for assistance. A little later, Booth, getting out of the wretched conveyance, came forward, and to assure himself of their disposition toward him, accosted them with the interrogatory, "I suppose you have been told who we are?" then, throwing himself back on his crutch, and straightening himself up, with pistol cocked and drawn, he said, "Yes, I am Wilkes Booth, the slayer of Abraham Lincoln, and I am worth just one hundred and seventy-five thousand dollars to the man that captures me." His attitude and speech was that of a man at bay, under the power of a desperate purpose never to be taken alive. These three officers of the confederate army (for they were such at this time, not having been paroled), whilst mildly protesting that they did not sanction his acts as an assassin, assured him that they did not want any blood money, and promised to render him all the assistance in their power in making his escape, a promise which they faithfully kept. Major Ruggles dismounted and placed Booth on his horse, when the whole party crossed over the Rappahannock, from Port Conway, in King George, to Port Royal, in Caroline County, Virginia, and after an ineffectual effort to find quarters for Booth in the town, they took him three miles on the road to Bowling Green, the county seat of the latter county, where they succeeded in getting a man by the name of Garrett to take him in, with the understanding that he would do all he could for his comfort and safety. Garrett took Booth and Herold in with a full knowledge of all the facts in the case, and with some manifest reluctance from a knowledge of the danger he would thus incur.

Bainbridge and Herold went on to Bowling Green, whilst Ruggles and Jett remained over night in the woods near the house, Booth being hid away on the premises and cared for. On the following day Captain Jett went to Bowling Green on a visit, prompted by the tender passion, where he intended to remain a few days; and Lieutenant Bainbridge returned to the Garrett farm, where he rejoined Major Ruggles. The two started for Port Conway, but before getting there, learned that the town was full of Yankee cavalry, when they lost no time in returning to Garrett's, and gave warning to Booth, advising him to lose no time in fleeing to a piece of woods, which they pointed out to him, and then turned to look out for their own safety. The cavalry of which they got this notice was a squad detailed from the Sixteenth New York Regiment, commanded by Lieutenant Dougherty, which had been ordered to report to General L. C. Baker of the Secret Service Department, and by him placed in charge of E. J. Conger and L. B. Baker, officers belonging to his detective force.

Arriving at Port Conway on the afternoon of the day subsequent to the crossing of the parties above referred to, and finding the wife of the ferry keeper at the ferry-house sitting and conversing with another women, Colonel Conger exhibited to them a photograph of Booth, and informed them that that was the man they wanted. It at once became apparent to him, from the manner and actions of the woman, that Booth was not far off. The ferryman, a man by the name of Rollins, was sent for, and being influenced no doubt by fear of compromising himself he became very communicative. He told them all about the party that had crossed the day before, one of whom, Captain Jett, he knew well; and knowing that Jett had been paying attention to a Miss Goldman, the daughter of a Bowling Green hotel keeper, he suggested that he would most probably be found there. Colonel Conger pushed on with his squad of cavalry, commanded by Captain, then Lieutenant, E. P. Dougherty, to Bowling Green, passing the Garrett farm after dark.

Arriving at Goldman's Hotel, he inquired of Mrs. Goldman as to the men that were in the house. She answered him that her wounded son was in a room upstairs, and that he was all the man there was there. Colonel Conger then required her to lead the way upstairs, telling her at the same time that if his men were fired on he would burn the building and carry its inmates to Washington as prisoners. As he entered the room which she showed him, up one flight of stairs, Captain Jett jumped out of bed half-dressed, and admitted his identity. Colonel Conger then informed him that he was cognizant of his movements for the last two days, and proceeded to read to him the proclamation of the Secretary of War, telling him when he had done reading it that if he did not tell him the truth he would hang him; but that if he truly gave him the information that he sought he would protect him. Jett was greatly excited, and told him that he had left Booth at the Garrett Farm, three miles from Port Royal. The Colonel then had Jett's horse taken from the stable, making Jett his unwilling guide to the place of Booth's concealment.

Arriving at Garrett's, the cavalry was so disposed of as to prevent any one from escaping, and after having extorted, by threats, the information that Booth and Herold were concealed in the barn, it was at once surrounded. They were ordered to come out and surrender themselves, which Booth refused to do. After a considerable parley, Herold came to the door and gave himself up. He was followed by the maledictions of Booth, who accused him of cowardly unfaithfulness in thus deserting him. Booth still refusing to surrender, a wisp of hay was fired and thrown in on the hay in the barn. From this start the barn was soon lighted up with the flames of the burning hay. Booth was known to be armed and desperate, and as the burning hay began to illuminate the barn he was seen, carbine in hand, peering through the cracks, and trying to get an aim. He had before offered to fight the crowd for a chance of his life if the Colonel would but withdraw his men one hundred yards. Being answered that they had come to capture him, not to fight, he was preparing to sell his life as dearly as possible. At this moment, Sergeant Boston Corbett, of the Sixteenth New York Cavalry, fired at Booth through a crack in the barn, upon his own responsibility, and struck him on the back part of his head, very nearly in the same part where his own ball had struck the President, only a little lower down, and passing obliquely through the base of the brain and upper part of the spinal cord; it produced instantly almost complete paralysis of every muscle in his body below the seat of the wound, the nerves of organic life only sufficing to keep up a very difficult and imperfect respiration, and a feeble action of the heart for a few hours, when, with the coming of the morning of the 26th of April, 1865, twelve days after the commission of his crime and commencement of his flight, the malefactor expired. He was perfectly clear in his mind, but could not swallow, and was scarcely able to articulate so as to be understood, although he seemed anxious to talk. He requested the officer, who was waiting over him and trying to minister to him, to tell his mother that he died for his country. Thus was avenged, not the loyal North alone, but the cause of justice, the cause of freedom, the cause of humanity. Amongst the articles found on his person the most important as bearing on the conspiracy in which he was engaged was a bill of exchange, as follows:--

No. 1492. Stamp.

THE ONTARIO BANK, MONTREAL BRANCH.

_Exchange for £61 12s. 10d._

MONTREAL, 27th October, 1864.

Sixty days after sight of this first exchange (second and third of same tenor and date unpaid) pay to the order of J. Wilkes Booth sixty-one pounds, twelve shillings, and ten pence sterling. Value received and charge to account of this office.

To Messrs. GLYNN, MILLS & CO., London.

[Signed] H. STANUS, _Manager_.

The body was brought to Washington and identified fully. It was buried, for the time secretly, under the floor of the old Capitol Prison, but afterwards was given up to his friends.

Major Ruggles, in his account of his connection with Booth in his flight, gives it as his opinion that he was not shot, as claimed, by Sergeant Corbett, but that seeing escape hopeless, and knowing death to be his fate, he took his own life, holding his pistol to the back of his head; and in support of this opinion refers to the fact that one chamber of his revolver was found to be empty. He also advances the opinion that had the war still been going on, and Booth had made his escape into the confederate lines, the rebel government would have arrested him and delivered him up to the United States authorities. In this opinion, he takes a charitable view of the virtue and moral integrity of the Richmond government which I shall hereafter show is not warranted by the facts and evidence in the case. In this opinion he is also giving that government credit for a degree of virtue and integrity in striking contrast with the conduct of himself and his companions, who hurriedly entered into a friendly compact with the assassins, knowing them to be such, pledging fidelity and assistance to the full extent of their ability under the circumstances in which they were placed, thus morally and legally making themselves accomplices after the fact.[2]