When the current affairs had been disposed of, Mr. Evarts, of New York, nominated Wm. H. Seward, of that State, in the good old way of naming your man and sitting down. He could talk, as everybody knew, and he had been doing se almost incessantly through the week for his friend and colleague. But the graceful naming of his candidate, by an advocate who could easily talk four hours, in less than so many minutes, set the measure for all, and the nominating speeches were no more than naming them in answer to a roll-call of the States, when some one of each delegation named their favorites, as they desired.

Mr. Evarts named Mr. Seward, of New York. When Illinois was called, Mr. Judd nominated Abraham Lincoln. In the same way Bates, of Missouri; Collamer, of Vermont; Cameron, of Pennsylvania; Chase and McLean, of Ohio, and Dayton, of New Jersey, were named by their respective delegations, with no more than ordinary cheering; but when Mr. Lane, of Indiana, seconded the nomination of our candidate, the swelling tide of cheering for Lincoln began.

As this first volley of sound rolled away, Michigan, just across the lake, seconded the nomination of Seward. The New Yorkers rose in a body, a stalwart lot of men, with a thousand auxiliaries to take up the cry. It was a formidable roar, when, with their cohorts in and out of the Wigwam, they overlapped the Illinois and Indiana noise and explosion out and out, and, in thunders of applause that was a grand performance, they felt sure they had the sound. of the Convention on their side. Illinois and Indiana had not fallen in this first fray of the conflict of throats and blare of trumpets, horns, and drums. Our folks were more properly getting ready and waiting for the next onset in the struggle. There were few who thought and none who felt sure that the New York-Michigan roar could be approached or equaled.

The movement had reached high tide when the occasion

came for the trial, when a part of the Ohio delegation, with the concurrence of about two hundred who were coming in later, seconded Lincoln's nomination. At this Illinois, Indiana, and the Lincoln delegates in a dozen States and the crowds squeezing one another up to the rails opened their throats, spread their chests, and began the rising, swelling roar for Lincoln, that soon overcame the crowd and the Convention, and then rolled over their heads, where it was taken up and swollen, echoed and re-echoed over the three hundred thousand visitors and citizens for half an hour in rolling billows of indescribable sound. It was the concluding encounter of sound and impulse of eighty thousand against twenty thousand. The prairies won.

It was stoutly asserted at the time, and it seems as firmly held by many writers since, that on the third day, just before the balloting began, Seward's forces in the Convention fully expected success. This may have been the belief of the vigorous Seward crowd in a mass, who were purposely strong and outspoken; for to have conceded a weakness anywhere then would have been defeat beforehand; hence to proclaim his certain success was a well-considered part of their plan. But to the Seward managers defeat must have been a foregone conclusion from the evening of the first day, when it became known to all of them that no tally-sheet counted more than two hundred votes for their man, with New Jersey included. This left him thirty-three votes short of a nomination, and outside of these two hundred it was not known where he would get another vote. If his chief leaders believed in his final success, it was on the kind of information not trusted by those in opposition on our side.

The information at our headquarters was not that Lincoln's success was certain, but that, with the support of the doubtful States, his chances were the best. It was as near a certainty as could be that the movement against Seward

would win. It was not a combination against Seward further than necessity compelled it to be. It was the deliberate conclusion of the most thoughtful men of that memorable Convention, many of them personal friends of Seward, who were in search of the most available candidate, regardless of personal or sectional preferences, that he was not the

man.

To the doubtful-minded delegates, when the whole situation was brought before them, it was all resolved in the single question, which was, Who among these capable men is the most available and can carry the three doubtful States, which are all necessary to elect our candidate? The answer by our people invariably was this: Two of the most doubtful-Illinois and Indiana-are positively for Lincoln without division. Part of Pennsylvania, and all of it, contingently, are for him. Ohio is as heartily for our man as Indiana, when it has complimented its two favorites, neither of whom does it expect to nominate. With these the Bates following will be turned over to Lincoln any moment it will nominate him.

In the hushed stillness of ten thousand men crammed together in the Wigwam, the roll-call of the States for the first ballot was called. When it was over, the result went through the vast crowd, as a full thousand tally-sheets had it. It passed through the multitude in a few minutes, and all over the land as fast as the wires could carry it. The count was short: Seward, 173; Lincoln, 102; all others, 190. It developed the logic and reasonableness of the Lincoln campaign, and it more than foreshadowed Seward's defeat.

The New Yorkers, who had not before then suspected defeat, saw it in the figures of the first talley-sheet. Thousands sympathized with them; for there was no feeling but respect and admiration for their candidate and themselves. If the men alone had been the issue, Seward might have won, even after the first ballot; but in the battle of

availability he had fallen twelve votes behind the conceded estimate of two hundred, including New Jersey. The ballot showed that Jersey was in the wind, because three times their vote would not have nominated him.

Lincoln had gained two above our estimate. He was conceded to be the coming man by thousands who had doubted before, and these words, or something to the same effect, passed hurriedly all over the assembly. One tall, stalwart Ohio delegate mounted a chair and called out: "If he gains on the next ballot and gets the break from the complimentary nominees, he's a sure winner. Ohio is going to him next time. Two men in one State for President are one too many; and when one goes to him, all will. Two-thirds of us are for him anyway. Vermont is going for him in a lump in a ballot or so." Another delegate across the aisle, standing near Frank Blair, said: "The Bates vote will go to Lincoln whenever Frank Blair raises his hat on the Missouri standard. We see now that Seward can't get another vote, except from Jersey. It is always shaky when the biggest crowd is on the other side. I think we might as well nominate Lincoln on the next ballot." These and a thousand such expressions ran through the throngs who pushed their way wherever a man could be squeezed in.

With the Lincoln tide rising, the second roll-call of the States began. It would be an endless task to recite the strained interest and the excitement that prevailed. Hundreds wanted to cheer the States voting on their side; but the interest became so intense to see and hear how the vote ran that all noises were suppressed. There were more tally sheets, more counting done than before. Every one who had a pencil and any kind of paper, scrap, or fragment, was checking up the vote. It was a short tally, with only two names to write-Seward and Lincoln-and then make the best mark possible for every State as it voted. As the Lincoln vote increased, it was all that the best-trained could VOL. II.-30

do to keep down the shouts; but eagerness prevailed, and they waited and wrote and punched away at their tallies on envelopes and ragged pieces of paper.

Five minutes more time for the vote would have made the run that came later. As the call reached Ohio, Lincoln gained six, and Pennsylvania came in with forty-four, completing its full vote, and Vermont with its ten, rounding out the second ballot. Seward had 184, a gain of 11, all that Jersey would give in Seward's strongest poll. Lincoln had 181, a gain of 79, with 50 friendly votes of the States passed on the roll before Pennsylvania and Vermont were reached. These were ready to change to Lincoln, but concluded that the best and easiest way was to wait for another ballot rather than precipitate confusion at its close.

The word was passed through the crowd, and went everywhere: "Seward, 184; Lincoln, 181. He is a sure winner next time. Hold your lungs, boys, for a bigger blast than you have ever given." The New Yorkers were gritty, and held their strength in the best discipline ever known in any Convention in those days. If there had been a break in the second ballot, Lincoln would have won on that; for it was about as good as settled by it. To the Lincoln's men's enthusiasm they replied: "Boys, if you win, you've got to fight it out every inch to the end. We believe you have a good man. We know that we have, and we are going on with our next ballot. New York has seventy votes for Seward."

The interest was so intense that the waiting for accurate counting and announcing the regular vote was harassing and painful. Every one knew what it was long before it was over, where a minute was a long time under such tension and anxiety. It seemed that "something would snap" very soon, as one said. Another said: "Jim, can't we let go now and lift the roof?" Jim said: "No; sit quiet. Keep your senses till we win. Those Yorkers would lift the roof and us