Since we are discussing Lincoln & the Convention of 1860, I thought I'd better show what he looked like: no beard!
The tale is true that he grew "whiskers" at the request of a young girl in New York, who wrote him a letter. When the famous Inaugural Express went through New York State in February of 1861, Lincoln made certain that one of his stops was in her small town. He stood at the end of the train to meet her.
She had brought a bouquet for him, but was so excited and unnerved by the whole experience that she forgot to give him the flowers.
Awwwww . . .
The happy-looking gentleman to the left is David Davis, born to a wealthy family in Cecil County, Maryland, on March 9, 1815.
Upon his graduation from Yale in 1835, Davis moved to Bloomington, Illinois, to practice law. He also served as a member of the Illinois House of Representatives in 1845 and a delegate to the Illinois Constitutional Convention in McLean County, 1847.
In 1844, Davis won election as a Whig to the Illinois legislature, and four years later was elected Judge of Illinois' Eighth Judicial Circuit, the circuit in which Abraham Lincoln and Ward Hill Lamon practiced law.
The three became close friends, and Davis worked diligently (and then some!) as Lincoln's campaign manager at the 1860 Republican nominating convention in Chicago.
In 1862, President Lincoln appointed Davis to the United States Supreme Court, where he served until 1877.
He resigned from the court after being elected to the United States Senate by the Illinois legislature. He retired from the Senate in 1883 and spent the remainder of his life at Clover Lawn. He died on June 26, 1886.
Davis had the distinction of being the largest landowner in Illinois. Although he was not as wealthy as the state's wealthiest businessman, Cyrus McCormick, Davis owned more land than any other man in Illinois. At his death, his estate was valued at between four to five million dollars-a huge fortune in his day. He is interred at Evergreen Cemetery and his home is listed on the National Registry of Historic Places.
Not only did he weigh over 300 pounds, he had an equally large appetite for politics.
More to come
The above drawing is of the infamous Chicago Wigwam--a temporary building built of canvas and wood for the 1860 Republican Convention.
This structure was the deal breaker for getting the convo to Chicago in the first place. Each city--New York, Philadelphia, some smaller towns--put forth their bid for the spectacle, but Lyman Trumball and Gustav Koerner won out.
Seems Chicago was the right place at the right time, and the Illinois team promised huge discounts on train travel (hmmmm--did someone know a tall, gangly railroad lawyer?) as well as a building to be designed and built--at city expense!!--to provide a place for the Republican delegates.
I present . . . THE WIGWAM!
The gentleman to the right is Gustave Koerner. He was the man largely responsible for getting Chicago picked as the place for the May, 1860 Republican Convention. He was also of German ancestry, and helped build German support for Lincoln.
Koerner was once a Democrat, but left that party in disgust when they became affiliated with such movements as the Know Nothings, the race-baiting party of the time.
He was Lieutenant-Governor of Illinois, and next in line to become Governor if Joel Matteson, then chief executive of Illinois, won his Senate race.
In the 1840s, he had been a judge, and had met Abraham Lincoln during that time. He and another judge-turned-politico, Lyman Trumbull, pulled every available string (and some that were not so readily available!) in New York, where a group of Republican Party leaders met to choose the sight of the 1860 Convention.
It was much like Goldilocks & the 3 Bears--one city was too small, another was too expensive, but Chicago was "just right." Plus Chicago promised to build a special hall in which the electors could meet.
Why does it matter where the convention was held? There were many steps forward in getting Abraham Lincoln elected President. Moving the Republican Convention out of Seward territory was a particularly large step.
To the right is Theodore H. White. He is a Pulitzer prize-winning historian, and he wrote a book called The Making of the President, 1960.
I am reading this book to get a better understanding of campaigns, conventions, and elections in general. It is one of many I have read lately.
I found many sentences in Mr. White's book that were pure poetry in both their ideas and the way he put the words together. Because I am assuming those of you reading have some interest in history, I decided to share this:
History is always best written generations after the event, when cloud, fact and memory have all fused into what can be accepted as truth, whether it be so or not.
Ahhhh.
