newspaper the following day, a task which on this occasion Mathews accepted. As Mathews was in the play at Ford’s Theatre that
night and would witness the events for himself at close quarters, no longer would he doubt the resolve of Booth to carry through his daring plan. Worse still, Mathews read the letter and in fear of
implicating himself in the plot burned it, not forewarning those who could have prevented the murder. Mathews would remain tight lipped about the letter for two years following the
assassination.
Booth took his own horse to the stable behind the theatre and then invited Spangler and two other theatre staff out for a drink, after which he bought them a bottle of whiskey which he asked
them to enjoy on him. He meanwhile went back into the pretty much deserted theatre and continued to make his plans. Taking a block of wood he approached a white door that led to the corridor
outside the presidential box. Practising a few times he was able to be sure that by jamming the wood between the door and the wall, the door would be secure from anyone trying to get in – the
President would therefore be unable to get assistance immediately after the attack. Once he was sure the door could be secured he hid the block of wood in a dark corner where it would go
unnoticed.
Happy that his plans were now in place Booth returned to the National Hotel where he enjoyed a light supper and a liqueur before returning to his room. Upstairs he changed his clothes and loaded
his pistol, a .44-calibre, single-shot Derringer, which though small, fired a lead ball nearly half an inch in diameter.
Booth held the final meeting of his remaining accomplices at around 8 p.m. when Paine, Atzerodt and Herold were informed of a more ambitious plot. Booth had learned earlier that although Grant
had been invited to the theatre he had since left town. Paine therefore would not be able to deal with him as previously thought. Booth now suggested that instead of Grant he intended that Paine
should ride to the home of William Seward, the Secretary of State, and murder him. Herold would act as Paine’s guide, leading him to Seward’s address and then guiding him away
afterwards. Atzerodt meanwhile would seek out the Vice President, Andrew Johnson, who was staying at a local hotel and shoot him. Booth looked at his cohorts and told them the time of the attacks
should be 10.15 p.m. Afterwards they would meet at the Navy Yard Bridge before fleeing to Surrattville; where they would be able to pick up the package that Mrs Surratt had delivered – a
package containing more weapons. From there they hoped to cross the Potomac River and find a safe haven in the South.
All but Atzerodt seemed happy – he was not so keen on the ever-changing plans and complained that he had only agreed to the plot when it involved the kidnapping of the President. Atzerodt
would later testify that Booth had said they would all be hung anyhow so backing out was not an option. By the time the men left the meeting President Lincoln was already seated in his box at
Ford’s Theatre watching Our American Cousin .
Sometime between 9.30 p.m. and 10 p.m. Booth rode into the alleyway behind the theatre and called for Ned Spangler, who appeared on the third call. Booth asked him to hold the horse but Spangler
said he would be missed if he weren’t inside and that he would ask Joseph Burroughs, the junior handyman, to come and hold it instead. Ironically Spangler and Burroughs had argued earlier in
the day while preparing the presidential box. Spangler had cursed Lincoln and Burroughs had taken exception, asking him why he was blaspheming against Lincoln. Now Burroughs was about to hold the
getaway pony for the President’s assassin.
Once inside the theatre Booth took a route beneath the stage and crossed to the other side into the lobby. It was now a little after 10 p.m. and Booth had already passed a number of people who
knew him by sight. He walked briskly up