The New York Times, May 21, 1860
From Our Own Correspondent.
CHICAGO, Friday, May 18, 1860.
Time flies quickly, and wise men work with the motto before them that “Time is money.” This has been preeminently the case with the Convention which met on Wednesday in the Republican Wigwam of this city, to nominate candidates for President and Vice-President of the United States.
Long ere this reaches you, the telegraphic communication of your special correspondent has informed you that the deed is done;—that on the third ballot the Convention determined to place the standard of the party in the hands of ABRAM LINCOLN.
The developments of last night showed that the friends of SEWARD were devoted to him and his interests, and that they would stick to him so long as there was the faintest hope of success. The leaders were very sanguine of victory. THURLOW WEED said he “was sure of success.” Mr. EVARTS said their “victory was certain, and would be rapid.” A meeting of the opponents of SEWARD was held, at which efforts were made to harmonize the conflicting elements. The friends of LINCOLN, CAMERON and BATES were there, but after a protracted session, nothing being accomplished, they adjourned. This morning the Wigwam was as full as ever. Every one knew by intuition that the hour was approaching which would settle forever the fate of Mr. SEWARD, and would be pregnant with good or evil for the party, whose representatives had thus solemnly met. After some unimportant business, on motion, the Chair decided that it was in order to proceed to ballot, and that nominations were in order.
Mr. EVARTS, of New-York, Chairman of that delegation, presented, in a few, brief sentences, the name of WM. H. SEWARD, of New-York.
The announcement of Mr. SEWARD’s name drew forth thunders of applause, and it was evident that his admirers might be counted by thousands inside the Wigwam, an exponent of his great popularity throughout the country.
Mr. JUDD, of Chicago, begged leave to suggest the name of ABRAM LINCOLN, of Illinois.
If Mr. SEWARD’s name drew forth thunders of applause, what can be said of the enthusiastic reception of this name? I have never seen anything which compared with it. The greetings which JENNY LIND or GRIST or LA GRANGE received at Castle Garden or the Academy did not begin to equal that which I now record. Ten thousand people were in the Wigwam, and the crowd without could not be numbered. The vast throng rose simultaneously, hats and handkerchiefs were waved, cheers and hearty hurrahs were given, and the air seemed full of some magnetic influence, which moved all alike to exhibit to the full extent their powers of lung and length of wind. The President rapped and ordered silence, but in vain. The audience, like a wild colt with bit between his teeth, rose above all cry of order, and again and again the irrepressible applause broke forth and resounded far and wide. The crowd outside took it up, and cheer after cheer from them indorsed the sentiments of their brethren within.
After this scene was concluded, the names of other gentlemen were mentioned, and received with some applause, but all was cold when compared with that which greeted the names of those above. The balloting, as telegraphed, was then commenced. At the close of the second it was evident that something was in the wind not known to outsiders generally. Quietly I wandered on towards the Pennsylvania delegation. There I heard, “Drop CAMERON,” “Defeat SEWARD,” “Unite on LINCOLN.” “Perhaps get REEDER or HICKMAN as Vice.” I heard enough to warrant me in saying to a distinguished member of the New-York delegation that “Pennsylvania would change front on the next ballot.” He shook his head and smiled so complacently that I was at sea again, and not knowing what to think, I kept still and didn’t think at all. The call of the roll proceeded—”Pennsylvania, 2 1/2 SEWARD, 1 CAMERON, 2 1/2 MCLEAN and 48 for ABRAM LINCOLN,” was the announcement from the Chairman of that delegation, and then I knew that LINCOLN was nominated and SEWARD, like CALHOUN, like CLAY, and like WEBSTER, was slaughtered in the home of his friend, and that expediency had done for him what it always has done for the great men of this confederacy.
The various States changed their votes so that with the exception of New-York all voted for LINCOLN. Mr. EVARTS claimed the floor. Mounting a table, with grief manifest in his countenance, his hands clenched nervously, and every nerve quivering with excitement, he delivered one of the most interesting and able speeches I have ever heard from him or any one else. As he feelingly and affectionately described his friend and leader, detailing his efforts in the cause of the Republican Party, and claiming for him that credit which is so eminently the due of Mr. SEWARD, the spectator could not fail to be impressed with the idea that a man who could have such a friend must be a noble man indeed, and that this token of unswerving devotion to principle and friendship was preeminently honorable in the eloquent speaker. In conclusion, he moved that the nomination be made unanimous. This was carried, and after some delay the Chair announced feebly and not with much spirit, that ABRAM LINCOLN was the choice of the Convention for their candidate for the office of President of the United States of America.
I have described one SCENE OF APPLAUSE, and cannot describe another. It was like the first, only more so. A huge cannon was wheeled up to the door, and bang it went every half minute for seventeen minutes steady. Some one brought in a large crayon portrait of Mr. LINCOLN and carried it, like the Host, up and down the platform. The Illinois, Indiana and Ohio delegates seemed wild. They acted like madmen. One smashed his hat on another’s head, who returned the compliment, which was followed by a mutual embrace. HENRY G. LANE teetered up and down on a chair, not saying a word, but grinning all over his expressive countenance, while he waved in a huge circumference a tile damaged somewhat from its frequent contact with the head of a fellow delegate. At every discharge of the cannon, the cheering would break out anew, and the wildest confusion reigned, which occasionally would reach such a pitch as to send the blood tingling through one, and stir up the fountains of his sympathies as the storm arouses the seas of the great deep. No human body could attend to business after such a scene, and the Convention adjourned to 5 o’clock this afternoon. It will be too late for me to send anything by this mail. The particulars of the nomination will be sent by telegraph and you will have written half a dozen articles thereon before this reaches you. Nevertheless, I shall, for my own individual fun, take the liberty of guessing, and of recording a bet made just now, that the ticket will be either LINCOLN and HICKMAN or LINCOLN and BANKS.
Since the adjournment there has been a grand Lincoln demonstration — a Lincoln mass-meeting and serenades without number. The rooms of the Massachusetts Delegation are directly opposite mine, and GILMORE’s band is now in there playing “When Swallows Homeward Fly.” The rooms of the Pennsylvania Delegation are “round the corner,” and the Pittsburgh band strikes up “Hail Colombia,” after which the “Light-guard band” of Chicago, which is stationed in the Hall below, gives us the benefit of the “Star Spangled Banner;” so you see we have pretty lively times, and all that quiet which is so desirable when a man is sleepy and tagged out as I am, or when he has a letter to be written and mailed in half-an-hour, as I have. The halls are filled with politicians, all laboring for an end. Everybody has been or is drinking, but I have not seen a drunken person since my coming here. Through there is great confusion and a great deal of loud talk, there is no ill-nature visible and no single row has occurred since the Convention sat.
I should be glad to continue, but for three good reasons I must close:
- The mail closes in five minutes.
- Convention meets in twenty minutes.
- I am physically exhausted.
As old Plumb Gut used to say, when he wrote those fearfully and wonderfully made Republican leaders, in 1856, “That’s all.”