Abraham Lincoln: A Life, Volume 1

by Michael Burlingame

  But that night, while Davis and his crew were busy securing the Pennsylvania delegation, anti-Seward New Yorkers, led by David Dudley Field, were also hard at work. A prominent lawyer, Field had persuaded four other anti-Seward residents of the Empire State to join him in Chicago to lobby against their senator. They shared Wall Street attorney George Templeton Strong’s opinion that Seward was “an adroit, shifty, clever politician” who “has used anti-Masonry, law reform, the common school system, and anti-slavery as means to secure votes, without possessing an honest conviction in regard to any of them.”104

  Early on May 18, Illinois Congressman John Farnsworth accurately predicted that “Lincoln will be nominated.” His reasoning was simple: “I think he is the second choice of everybody.”105

  The Sewardites planned to use mob psychology to convince delegates that their man’s triumph was inevitable. A gigantic claque of Seward supporters was to infiltrate the Wigwam and stampede the convention with their enthusiasm. Weed imported hundreds of men, to be led by a uniformed band.

  This move almost caught the Lincolnites by surprise. When they realized the magnitude of the crowd being assembled for Seward, they fired off urgent telegrams summoning Illinoisans and Hoosiers to Chicago. Alexander H. Conner, the pro-Lincoln Republican state chairman of Indiana, rounded up supporters of the Rail-splitter throughout the state and the next day led thousands of them to join forces with a like number of Illinoisans in the Windy City. As Swett reported: “After the first days we were aided by the arrival of at least 10,000 people from Central Illinois and Indiana.”106 Finding admission tickets for Lincoln’s hordes proved a challenge. The quick-witted Conner obtained one ticket and persuaded a Chicago printer to run off 5,000 copies of it, which were evenly distributed between the Illinois and Indiana contingents. They were instructed to arrive at the Wigwam early on May 18, the day the nominee would be chosen.

  That morning while the cocksure Seward forces marched across town, the Lincoln shouters were already streaming into the Wigwam, led by a leather-lunged Chicagoan and a Dr. Ames of Ottawa. Those two men organized cheering sections on opposite sides of the hall with orders to bellow when Lincoln’s name was placed in nomination and again when it was seconded. After parading through the streets, the Sewardites were astounded to learn that they could not all enter the packed convention hall, even though they held tickets.

  Also frustrating the Seward forces was the seating arrangement devised by Judd, who as a member of the Republican National Committee had been assigned that task. Because New York expected to have its man named, Judd logically gave it the place of honor, in front, to the right of speaker’s rostrum. Then he surrounded it with solid Seward delegations, effectively shielding the New Yorkers from the undecided states. To the left he deployed Illinois and Indiana; opposite those two, and very close by, he seated Pennsylvania and Missouri.

  Postponement of balloting until May 18 also thwarted the Sewardites. After the adoption of the platform on May 17, they were so confident that they insisted on commencing the roll call. The Lincolnites, needing more time to shore up their support, unsuccessfully moved to adjourn. If the voting had begun then, Seward may have won. But George Ashmun, president of the convention, announced that “the papers necessary for the purpose of keeping the tally are prepared, but are not yet at hand, but will be in a few minutes.” The motion to adjourn was renewed, and even though few votes were actually cast for and against, Ashmun ruled that it had carried. Seward’s operatives, though disgusted by this decision, remained supremely confident.

  The morning of May 18, well before the official opening hour, a flood of humanity surged toward the Wigwam, jamming the entrances badly. After the noisy 10,000 attendees managed to gain their places, an opening prayer silenced the hum of the crowd, but only temporarily. As the presiding officer read routine communications, it buzzed with excitement. Who could care about railroad excursions or addresses from associations when everyone was atingle to learn who would be nominated? When it was finally decided to begin voting, the impatient crowd applauded. But it was further frustrated when a debate arose over voting procedures. Mercifully, discussion of that matter was cut short, and Ashmun announced that nominations could now be made.

  By the time Seward’s name was placed in nomination, enough of his men had somehow gained admission to give such a deafening roar that Lincoln’s operatives were taken aback. Once Ashmun managed to restore quiet, Norman B. Judd rose and emphatically nominated Lincoln. Then, said Swett, “our people tested their lungs. We beat them a little.”107 Though Ashmun banged his gavel and ordered silence, the audience, “like a wild colt with [the] bit between his teeth, rose above all cry of order, and again and again the irrepressible applause broke forth and resounded far and wide.”108 The spectators were electrified by this sudden, vehement outburst, none more so than Seward’s forces, who “turned pale and looked wild.”109 But they rallied when their man’s nomination was seconded and they outshouted the Lincolnites. “The effect was startling,” reported Murat Halstead. “Hundreds of persons stopped their ears in pain. The shouting was absolutely frantic, shrill and wild. No Comanches, no panthers, ever struck a higher note, or gave to a scream more infernal intensity. Looking from the stage over the vast amphitheater nothing was to be seen below but thousands of hats—a black swarm of hats—flying with the velocity of hornets over a mass of human heads.”110

  The Lincoln forces responded at an even greater decibel level. “The idea of our Hoosiers and Suckers being outscreamed would have been as bad to them as the loss of their man,” Swett remarked. So when Lincoln’s name was seconded, 5,000 men and women jumped up and gave what Swett called a “wild yell” that “made soft whisper breathing of all that had preceded. No language can describe it. A thousand steam whistles, ten acres of hotel gongs, a tribe of Comanches, headed by a choice vanguard from pandemonium, might have mingled in the scene unnoticed.”111 Halstead varied the metaphor: “The uproar that followed was beyond description. Imagine all the hogs ever slaughtered in Cincinnati giving their death squeals together, a score of big steam whistles going together … and you can conceive something of the same nature.” Enhancing the tumult was the stamping of feet so vigorous that it “made every plank and pillar in the building quiver.” Seward’s delegates sat silent “as the Lincoln yawp swelled into a wild hosanna of victory.”112 For five minutes the Lincolnites waved their hats, handkerchiefs, and arms, shouting and yelling “like savages.”113 A Seward man pessimistically remarked, “We may easily guess the result.”114

  At last polling began. The shouting duel continued throughout the first ballot, with the Lincolnites winning each round. Color drained from the faces of the Sewardites at the unexpected announcement that Maine, instead of going for their champion as a unit, awarded six votes to Lincoln. Following on the heels of that shocker came New Hampshire, which awarded seven votes to Lincoln and only one to Seward.

  (At 10:30 the previous night, Weed allegedly had obtained the Granite State’s promise to support his candidate. The Wizard of the Lobby had admonished them that if Seward were passed over, New York might not vote Republican in November. But the New Hampshire delegation shared the widely-held view that he could not carry the swing states and doubted that New York would go Democratic even if her favorite son were rejected. Shortly thereafter Andrew G. Curtin told the delegation that if Seward won the nomination, he would withdraw his candidacy for governor of Pennsylvania because having the senator at the head of the ticket would doom the party in his state. Amos Tuck, meanwhile, ably pleaded Lincoln’s case to his fellow New Hampshiremen.)

  With only two states polled, Seward had fallen behind in a region where he was supposedly dominant. Many New England delegates wept while acknowledging they had to desert Seward because of his inability to win Pennsylvania and Indiana. (Alexander K. McClure estimated that over one-third of the votes cast for Lincoln came from Seward admirers who abandoned him only because of his weakness in swing states.) Of the eig
hty-two New England delegates, Seward received a disappointing thirty-two to Lincoln’s nineteen.

  Another shock came when Virginia, a presumed Seward stronghold, cast fourteen votes for Lincoln and only eight for the senator. This was the crucial turning point on the first ballot, causing New Yorkers to despair. Greeley reported shortly after the convention that “Virginia had been regularly sold out; but the seller couldn’t deliver. We had to rain red hot bolts on them, however, to keep the majority from going for Seward.”115 The chairman of that delegation thought Lincoln more likely to win than Seward because the Rail-splitter “was not a sectional man.”116 Kentucky also disappointed Weed, for it gave Seward only five of its twenty-three votes. (Cassius M. Clay explained to the senator that “it was difficult to get our delegation to vote for you, because the opposition press had taken the pains to single you out for denunciation: and because Chase was in continual communication … with our friends.”)117 A Sewardite lamented that the “old sinner F. P. Blair with his two cubs Frank and Montgomery were active and bitter against Seward and did us a good deal of harm with the delegates from Virginia, Kentucky etc. who were inclined to go with us in the beginning.”118

  As Lincoln’s total increased, so too did the enthusiasm of his backers, who were ecstatic when the results were announced: Seward 173½ (only 3½ from the Lower North), Lincoln 102, Cameron 50½, Chase 49, Bates 48, with the rest scattering. The tally dealt a deathblow to Seward’s chances, for clearly Lincoln, Cameron, Chase, and Bates could stop the New Yorker. The Empire State delegation “looked like a funeral procession.”119

  In Springfield, however, Lincoln received the news with some concern. When a friend observed, “that’s a great deal better than we had any right to expect,” he replied: “I don’t like the looks of it; I imagine that about forty of those votes were cast for me by men who supposed they were bound to give me an empty compliment on the first ballot. They were cast, according to my figuring, by friends of Wade and Bates. If so if I lose them on the next ballot, the nomination will also be lost, for in the Convention as in every-day life, everybody is more or less anxious to help a man who is traveling down hill.”120

  Back in Chicago, the next ballot began. The third state to be called, Vermont, gave Lincoln all ten of its votes, igniting a spontaneous eruption of applause that the chairman had trouble checking. This significant gain of support that had previously gone to Jacob Collamer constituted “a blighting blow upon the Seward interest,” Halstead reported. “The New Yorkers started as if an Orsini bomb had exploded.”121 One of them thought that Vermont’s switch represented the turning of the tide, assuring Lincoln’s victory. Weed later complained that “Greeley took possession of a perverted Delegation from Vermont,” and the Tribune editor said it “was all we could do to hold Vermont by the most desperate exertions.”122 But the head of the Vermont delegation denied that Greeley had exercised much influence; rather, he said, the Green Mountaineers had listened to the pleas of the Hoosiers and Pennsylvanians, who begged them not to vote for Seward. Heeding that appeal, the Vermonters noted Lincoln’s strength on the first ballot and decided to support him as the candidate most able to win in November. They liked Seward but feared he would lose; they also admired Cassius Clay, but he stood less of a chance than Seward. From Connecticut and Rhode Island, Lincoln picked up five more votes. He now topped Seward in New England, thirty-six to thirty-three.

  Surprisingly, New Jersey gave Seward four votes, the remaining ten going to favorite son Dayton. Then came a stunning announcement; Pennsylvania cast forty-eight votes for Lincoln, a net gain of forty-four. That proved the clincher. In its wake, Delaware switched its six votes from Bates to Lincoln, whose count increased by three in both Kentucky and Iowa and by six in Ohio. (Bates’s chief lobbyists, the Blairs, were staying at the home of Norman B. Judd, who doubtless urged them to support the Rail-splitter once their man faltered.) The second ballot totals were Seward 184½, Lincoln 181, Chase 42½, Bates 35, and the rest scattering. Seward had gained eleven, Lincoln seventy-nine.

  This result cheered Lincoln. “I have no fault to find,” he said, and added calmly, “I think the convention will nominate me on the next ballot.”123

  As voting resumed, the suspense was palpable. Throughout the Wigwam, delegates and spectators scribbled down the votes as they were cast. Lincoln’s bandwagon rapidly gathered momentum. In Massachusetts he picked up four, in New Jersey eight, in Pennsylvania four, in Maryland nine, in Kentucky four, in Ohio fifteen, and in Oregon four, giving him a total of 231½, a scant one-and-a-half votes short of victory. Seward had slipped to 180, despite Weed’s best efforts. During the balloting, a Bates operative urged Greeley “to hold on for Bates” for “he had just seen Mr. Weed, and, if no nomination should be made, there would be a strong rally of Seward’s friends on Bates” during the next ballot.124 But that desperate ploy was futile.

  Suddenly the Wigwam grew profoundly silent. All talking and fluttering of fans ceased. In the stillness could be heard only pencils scratching and telegraph instruments clicking. Because the chairman had not yet announced the result, changes could still be made. Everybody looked around to see who would put Lincoln over the top. The chairman of the Ohio delegation, David K. Cartter, suddenly sprang upon his chair. A big, coarse, strong-willed man with shiny eyes, a speech impediment, and numerous smallpox scars, Cartter had just been told by Joseph Medill, “If you can throw the Ohio vote for Lincoln, Chase can have anything he wants.” “H-how d-d’ye know?” asked Cartter. “I know, and you know I wouldn’t say so if I didn’t know. Ask Judge Davis. He holds the authority from Lincoln.”125

  Catching the attention of presiding officer George Ashmun, with whom he had served in Congress, Cartter won recognition and declared: “I rise (eh) Mr. Chairman (eh) to announce the change of four votes of Ohio from Mr. Chase to Mr. Lincoln.”126

  After a brief moment of stillness, the Wigwam erupted. One delegate smashed his hat on the head of a colleague, who did the same in return; they then hugged each other. Henry S. Lane also beat his silk topper on a fellow Hoosier’s head, then waved it vigorously as he stood on a chair, silently grinning from ear to ear. John A. Andrew reported hearing “a peal of human voices, a grand chorus of exultation, the like of which has not been heard on earth since the morning stars first sang together, and the sons of God shouted for joy.” Illinois delegates, who at first were so stunned that they sat still weeping for joy, recovered themselves, jumped up on their benches, and frantically waved hats and coats. Their contagious enthusiasm inspired neighboring delegations from Maine, Massachusetts, Ohio, and Connecticut to celebrate wildly. Soon the entire convention was caught up in the excitement as waves of applause rolled on and on. When it began to ebb, Andrew observed some old men with “quivering lips and streaming eyes, and hearts so full of joy they could not check their emotion” rise “in their seats to renew their cheers.”127 Atop the Wigwam, a cannon repeatedly fired announcements of the result to the immense crowd outside, which issued a roar “like the breaking up of the fountains of the great deep.” It was so loud that the cannonade on the roof could not be heard in the hall.128

  Amid this pandemonium, Thurlow Weed struggled to fight back tears. He was not alone. Several of his fellow delegates from the Empire State “cried like heart broken children.” Others “sat like marble statues.”129 Finally, a sorrowful William M. Evarts mounted a table and with tears in his eyes graciously moved that the nomination be made unanimous. Other Seward supporters seconded the motion. Orville Browning responded with a speech on behalf of the Lincolnites, thus ending the morning session. Supporters of the Rail-splitter celebrated manically while Seward backers “were terribly stricken down,” Halstead reported. “They were mortified beyond all expression, and walked thoughtfully and silently away from the slaughter house, more ashamed than embittered. They acquiesced in the nomination, but did not pretend to be pleased with it.” It “was their funeral, and they would not make merry.”130

  Some New Yo
rk delegates sneered at Lincoln’s nomination, asking sourly: “What was it Webster said when Taylor was nominated?” (Daniel Webster had expressed scorn for the “illiterate frontier colonel,” whom he thought unfit.)131 Supporters of the Rail-splitter retorted: “What was the result of the [1848] election?”132 When a Pennsylvania leader called on Thurlow Weed, he found the Wizard of the Lobby sulking. He rudely declined to discuss the campaign. To Curtin, Weed said: “You have defeated the man who of all others was most revered by the people and wanted as President. You and Lane want to be elected, and to elect Lincoln you must elect yourselves.”133 Some especially angry New Yorkers swore they would rather back Jefferson Davis, Stephen A. Douglas, or any slavery supporter rather than “third rate, rail splitting Lincoln.” At their headquarters, bets were made that the nominee would lose the Empire State by 20,000 votes. Some offered 50-to-1 odds that Douglas would be elected. Those mortified delegates were almost afraid to return to New York, for fear of encountering popular anger. As one of them prepared to leave Chicago, he joked that he would travel by night only, lest he be recognized. They cursed the most active operatives who had worked against their hero, especially Greeley, David Dudley Field, and Anson Burlingame. Seward champion James W. Nye almost came to blows with Burlingame. As soon as Lincoln won, Burlingame congratulated Field, exclaiming: “You have nominated Mr. Lincoln; now help us to nominate the ‘bobbin boy’ [N. P. Banks] for Vice-President!”134