Destiny of the Republic - Candice Millard [23]
Blaine was finished, and Sherman, who had been waiting miserably in his office in the Treasury Department, desperately studying every ballot as it came across his telegraph, finally admitted that he was as well. Sitting down at his desk, he wrote a telegram to be sent to the Ohio delegation on the convention floor. “Whenever the vote of Ohio will be likely to ensure the nomination for Garfield,” it read, “I appeal to every delegate to vote for him. Let Ohio be solid. Make the same appeal in my name to North Carolina, and every delegate who has voted for me.”
When the telegram was received, Garfield frantically shouted, “Cast my vote for Sherman!” But it was too late. He could not stop what was happening. The last state was called, and Garfield was left with 399 votes, 20 more than were needed to win. Having never agreed to become even a candidate—on the contrary, having vigorously resisted it—he was suddenly the nominee.
All that was left was to make it official. Hoar, standing before the breathless crowd, shouted, “Shall the nomination of James A. Garfield be made unanimous?” and none other than Roscoe Conkling slowly stood. In a hoarse whisper almost unrecognizable as the voice that had so brazenly nominated Grant just three days before, he said, “James A. Garfield of Ohio, having received a majority of all the votes, I arise to move that he be unanimously presented as the nominee of this convention.”
As soon as the nomination was seconded, the hall exploded in a cheer so deafening the very air seemed to tremble. “The delegates and others on the floor of the Convention hall seemed to lose all control of themselves,” a reporter wrote. “Many of them cheered like madmen. Others stood upon their seats and waved their hats high above them.… ‘Hurrah for Garfield’ was cried by a thousand throats.” The band began to play “The Battle-Cry of Freedom,” and the delegates joined in singing as they grabbed their state banners and joyfully marched them through the hall. Faintly, through the tall windows, they could hear the battery of guns on the shore of Lake Michigan that announced the news to the crowds waiting in suspense outside.
The Ohio delegation was immediately engulfed by a sea of grinning men, eager to shake the candidate’s hand or pound his back. Garfield, shocked and sickened, turned in desperation to a friend and asked if it would be inappropriate for him to leave. Told in no uncertain terms that he must stay, he did, sitting quietly in his seat, looking at the floor and responding with a simple “Thank you” to the hearty congratulations showered upon him from every direction. “Only once,” a reporter recalled, “did he express anything like emotion, and that was when Frye of Maine came up and said: ‘General, we congratulate you.’ Garfield replied: ‘I am very sorry that this has become necessary.’ ” Across the hall, in the New York delegation, another man sat in stony silence. As the celebration whirled around him, Senator Conkling was “an unmoved spectator of the scene.”
Finally, as the crowd threatened to crush Garfield, his friends decided that it was time for him to make his escape. Simply getting out the door, however, was much more difficult than they had anticipated. As crowded as the hall was, the sidewalk outside was even worse. They managed to find a carriage and step inside, but the throng was not about to let Garfield go that easily. “As Garfield entered the carriage in company with [Ohio] Gov. Foster,” a reporter wrote, “the crowd surged around in a state of intense enthusiasm, and shouted: ‘Take off the horses; we will pull the carriage.’ The driver, who at the time was not aware whom he was carrying, whipped up to get away from the men, who had already commenced to unfasten the harness. He cleared the space several feet, but was overhauled again, and the dazed driver, now thoroughly frightened, applied his whip with renewed energy, and, clear[ed] the crowd.”
Violently bounced along the brick streets by the nervous horses and terrified driver, Garfield sat in silence, a