Read Online Mrs. Lincoln's Rival by Jennifer Chiaverini - Free Book Online
Authors: Jennifer Chiaverini
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Uncle Edward sent a telegram upon his arrival in Chicago on May 15, briefly describing the illuminated city, the crush of delegates traveling to the convention from all corners of the nation, the spectacular displays of skyrockets and nine-pounder brass cannon firing over Lake Michigan, the free-flowing alcohol and brass bands everywhere else. He promised to go early the next day to the Wigwam, the enormous structure of rough pine boards and rafters on the corner of Lake and Market streets built in a rustic imitation of New York’s Crystal Palace expressly for the convention. From there he would telegraph reports as events warranted.
Thus apprised, Father, Kate, and the rest of the Chase household settled themselves down to what they knew could be a long and apprehensive wait.
On Wednesday evening, May 16, Uncle Edward telegraphed a single report, frustrating in its brevity: “Preliminaries concluded. Various committees formed. Adjourned till 10 AM tomorrow. All is well.” The following evening, his single telegram was only slightly less taciturn: “Platform favorable to Northern interests adopted. Provision requiring two-thirds vote failed. Simple majority sufficient to nominate. Adjourned till 10 AM tomorrow.”
“Uncle Edward didn’t say, ‘All is well,’ this time,” Nettie noted.
“That doesn’t mean all is
not
well,” said Kate, absently stroking her sister’s fine golden curls. “Uncle Edward said all was well yesterday, and since he hasn’t said otherwise, we can assume that is unchanged. If something had gone wrong, he would have told us.”
But although it escaped Nettie’s notice, something had. The ruling that the nominee could be chosen by a simple majority rather than two-thirds of the votes benefited no candidate but Mr. Seward, who might have commanded a majority of the delegates even before they stepped off the train in Chicago.
“We’ll know more when he telegraphs again,” said Father resignedly. He opened his Bible, summoned the servants, and brought the household together in the library for their customary evening prayer. The ruling had been made; there was nothing they could do to change it.
Kate slept poorly that night, but she rose on the morning of the third day of the convention energetic and full of anticipation. She dressed and bounded lightly downstairs to the front sitting room, where the household gathered every morning—family, guests, and servants alike—for Father’s solemn scripture reading. Then the family sat down to breakfast, as if it were an ordinary day, except that the meal was interrupted by the arrival of a telegram from Uncle Edward. “Chase submitted by Cartter to thunderous applause,” he reported. “Others named—Seward Lincoln Dayton Cameron Bates McLean by Corwin. Delano seconded Lincoln. Cannot leave Wigwam now. Will send mssgr to telegraph news.”
“Mr. Corwin,” said Kate, disbelieving. “Mr. Corwin nominated Mr. McLean.”
“And Mr. Delano seconded Lincoln instead of me,” said her father grimly. “Two Ohio delegates have forsaken me before the first ballot.”
Nettie looked from her father to her sister and back. “How could anyone from Ohio vote for anyone but you?”
“The vote hasn’t been taken yet,” Kate explained. “These are merely the nominations.”
“A delegate is hardly likely to nominate or second one man and vote for another,” Father said grumpily.
Nettie threw Kate an anxious look, and she returned what she hoped was a reassuring smile. “Politics is a strange business,” she reminded her father. “That may be a ploy to draw delegates away from Mr. Seward so he doesn’t win on the first ballot.”
Her father made no reply, but at least he did not disagree.
Restless and craving fresh air and distraction, Kate had Honeysuckle saddled and went riding through the fashionable districts along State and High streets and around the magnificent capitol. She exchanged greetings in passing from friends
Uncle Edward sent a telegram upon his arrival in Chicago on May 15, briefly describing the illuminated city, the crush of delegates traveling to the convention from all corners of the nation, the spectacular displays of skyrockets and nine-pounder brass cannon firing over Lake Michigan, the free-flowing alcohol and brass bands everywhere else. He promised to go early the next day to the Wigwam, the enormous structure of rough pine boards and rafters on the corner of Lake and Market streets built in a rustic imitation of New York’s Crystal Palace expressly for the convention. From there he would telegraph reports as events warranted.
Thus apprised, Father, Kate, and the rest of the Chase household settled themselves down to what they knew could be a long and apprehensive wait.
On Wednesday evening, May 16, Uncle Edward telegraphed a single report, frustrating in its brevity: “Preliminaries concluded. Various committees formed. Adjourned till 10 AM tomorrow. All is well.” The following evening, his single telegram was only slightly less taciturn: “Platform favorable to Northern interests adopted. Provision requiring two-thirds vote failed. Simple majority sufficient to nominate. Adjourned till 10 AM tomorrow.”
“Uncle Edward didn’t say, ‘All is well,’ this time,” Nettie noted.
“That doesn’t mean all is
not
well,” said Kate, absently stroking her sister’s fine golden curls. “Uncle Edward said all was well yesterday, and since he hasn’t said otherwise, we can assume that is unchanged. If something had gone wrong, he would have told us.”
But although it escaped Nettie’s notice, something had. The ruling that the nominee could be chosen by a simple majority rather than two-thirds of the votes benefited no candidate but Mr. Seward, who might have commanded a majority of the delegates even before they stepped off the train in Chicago.
“We’ll know more when he telegraphs again,” said Father resignedly. He opened his Bible, summoned the servants, and brought the household together in the library for their customary evening prayer. The ruling had been made; there was nothing they could do to change it.
Kate slept poorly that night, but she rose on the morning of the third day of the convention energetic and full of anticipation. She dressed and bounded lightly downstairs to the front sitting room, where the household gathered every morning—family, guests, and servants alike—for Father’s solemn scripture reading. Then the family sat down to breakfast, as if it were an ordinary day, except that the meal was interrupted by the arrival of a telegram from Uncle Edward. “Chase submitted by Cartter to thunderous applause,” he reported. “Others named—Seward Lincoln Dayton Cameron Bates McLean by Corwin. Delano seconded Lincoln. Cannot leave Wigwam now. Will send mssgr to telegraph news.”
“Mr. Corwin,” said Kate, disbelieving. “Mr. Corwin nominated Mr. McLean.”
“And Mr. Delano seconded Lincoln instead of me,” said her father grimly. “Two Ohio delegates have forsaken me before the first ballot.”
Nettie looked from her father to her sister and back. “How could anyone from Ohio vote for anyone but you?”
“The vote hasn’t been taken yet,” Kate explained. “These are merely the nominations.”
“A delegate is hardly likely to nominate or second one man and vote for another,” Father said grumpily.
Nettie threw Kate an anxious look, and she returned what she hoped was a reassuring smile. “Politics is a strange business,” she reminded her father. “That may be a ploy to draw delegates away from Mr. Seward so he doesn’t win on the first ballot.”
Her father made no reply, but at least he did not disagree.
Restless and craving fresh air and distraction, Kate had Honeysuckle saddled and went riding through the fashionable districts along State and High streets and around the magnificent capitol. She exchanged greetings in passing from friends
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