XIV.

WILLIAM D. KELLEY.

I.

HE object of this series of sketches of Abraham. were

Lincoln by men who were intimately acquainted with him is, as I understand it, to perpetuate the memory of illustrative facts of his current life, and thus provide materials for future biography.

Remembering that it is not for "impressions of his character, but for incidents illustrative thereof," that I have been asked, I find a fitting prelude to my reminiscences in a rapid allusion to our first meeting. It took place in the reception-room and library of Mr. Lincoln's Springfield home on the evening of the day succeeding his nomination for the Presidency by the Republican Convention. It so happened that, though we had never met, I was not entirely unknown to him. He had heard of the sonorous voice of the Pennsylvania delegate, who, favoring the nomination of Lincoln or Wade, and who, having been informed of the details of an arrangement by which the immense audience that would throng the wigwam on the evening preceding the

formal opening of the Convention should be addressed by no advocate of any other candidate than Mr. Seward, had deliberately undertaken to defeat the scheme by talking against time, till the trains that were to carry his auditors to their homes beyond the city should be ready for the last departure of that date; and who, in defiance of oft-repeated calls for Hon. James W. Nye, who was to dedicate the entire evening to his friend Seward, held the platform till midnight approached and the twelve thousand early listeners had palpably dwindled to less than one thousand. It is, however, due to Mr. Lincoln to say that he made no reference to this incident on that evening, and that it was not until I had come to be an habitué of the Executive Chamber that I heard him recount the story of the wigwam meeting as it had come to him. Graver matters now engaged him. The president of the Convention, and the chairman of each delegation, or a substitute for him, in which latter capacity I served, had called to notify him of his nomination, and to present to him the letter which had been prepared, and which would inform him of the nomination, together with the platform, resolutions and sentiments which the Convention had adopted.

It was a beautiful evening in May. The train bearing the Committee, and a number of distinguished gentlemen who accompanied them, arrived at

Springfield shortly before sunset, and, after a couple of hours devoted to refreshment and such rest as might be found in the midst of so excited a people, the delegates repaired to Mr. Lincoln's home for the purpose of discharging the duty with which they had been intrusted. Having entered the room designated, the members of the Committee, and the distinguished men by whom they were accompanied, ranged themselves around three sides of the room. Among them were many men of national importance, including Hon. George Ashman, who had presided over the Convention and had been the life-long friend of Daniel Webster. Through a vista of more than a quarter of a century, I vividly recall the appearance of Governor Morgan of New York, and of the venerable Francis P. Blair, who had so long edited the Globe, the organ of Jackson's administration; of Hon. Gideon Welles of Connecticut, who was to serve with honor throughout the war as Secretary of the Navy; of Hon. David K. Cartter, of Congressional fame, subsequently in the diplomatic service of the government, and now Chief Justice of the Supreme Court of the District of Columbia; of John A. Andrew, who is immortal in history as the great War Governor of Massachusetts; and of William M. Evarts, who, having in the name of New York nominated William H. Seward to the Convention, at the appropriate moment after Mr. Lincoln's

nomination by a majority of the Convention, moved that the nomination be made unanimous, and many others no less worthy of special designation.

Mr. Lincoln assumed his position in the back part of the room, and Mr. Ashman, advancing a few paces, briefly announced the purpose of our visit and delivered the letter containing the platform, etc. While Mr. Ashman spoke, Mr. Lincoln's form and features seemed to be immovable; his frame was slightly bent, and his face downcast and absolutely void of expression. It was evident that the voice which addressed him was receiving his exclusive attention. He had no eye nor ear for any other object, and as I contemplated his tall, spare figure, I remembered that of Henry Clay, to whom I noticed a more than passing resemblance; and that of General Jackson, as I had seen him in 1832, forced itself upon my memory. It was not, however, until the conclusion of Mr. Ashman's few sentences, that I beheld the being, upon whose rough casket I had been gazing. The bowed head rose as by an electric movement, the broad mouth, which had been so firmly drawn together, opened with a genial smile, and the eyes, that had been shaded, beamed with intelligence and the exhilaration of the occasion. The few words, in which fitting response to Mr. Ashman's address was made, flowed in a pleasant voice, and, though without marked emphasis, each

syllable was uttered with perfect clearness. As in conclusion he said, "Now I will not longer defer the pleasure of taking you, and each of you, by the hand," Mr. Lincoln joined Mr. Ashman, and approached the Hon. E. D. Morgan, who was Governor of the Empire State, Chairman of the Republican Executive Committee, and the most commanding figure of the visiting party. Accident had placed me at the left hand of the Governor, who was not only not gifted as a conversationalist but was eminently taciturn, and made no audible response to the cordial welcome with which he had been greeted. Mr. Lincoln, as if determined to elicit a colloquy, said, "Pray, Governor, how tall may you be?" "Nearly six feet three," said the brawny and distinguished man, who relapsed into silence, and was thus likely to embarrass his eager interlocutor. But, interposing, I somewhat boisterously exclaimed: And pray, Mr. Lincoln, how tall may you be?" "Six feet four" said he. At hearing which I bowed profoundly, saying: "Pennsylvania bows humbly before New York, but still more humbly before Illinois. Mr. Lincoln, is it not curious that I, who for the last twelve years have yearned for a president to whom I might look up, should have found one here in a State where so many people believe they grow nothing but Little Giants?' (The popular sobriquet of Stephen A. Douglas.)

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