Not since the Democratic party began holding national conventions had the tactics practised at New York been equaled. The convention of 1844 must always be ranked as a masterpiece of manipulation, but its diplomacy was played to defeat Van Buren rather than nominate a candidate. In 1852 circumstances combined to prevent the nomination of the convention's first or second choice, and in the end, as a ball-player at the bat earns first base through the errors of a pitcher, Franklin Pierce benefited. But in 1868 nothing was gained by errors. Although there was a chief candidate to defeat, it was not done with a bludgeon as in 1844. Nor were delegates allowed to stampede to a "dark horse" as in 1852. On the contrary, while the leading candidate suffered slow strangulation, the most conspicuous man in the party was pushed to the front with a sagacity and firmness that made men obey the dictates of a superior intelligence, and to people who studied the ballots it plainly appeared that Samuel J. Tilden had played the game.
Tilden had not sought prominence in the convention. He seldom spoke, rarely figured in the meeting of delegates, and except to cast the vote of the New York delegation did nothing to attract attention. But the foresight exhibited in changing from Church to Hendricks on the eighth ballot discovered a mind singularly skilled in controlling the actions of men. The play appeared the more remarkable after the revelation of its influence. New York did not want Hendricks. Besides, up to that time, the Hoosier had received less than forty votes, his own State refusing to unite in his support. Moreover, since adjoining States save Michigan warmly advocated Pendleton, all sources of growth seemed closed to him. Yet Tilden's guiding hand, with infallible sagacity, placed New York's thirty-three votes on Indiana and absolutely refused to move them. To dispose of Hendricks, Vallandigham and other Ohio delegates offered to support Chase, and if the chairman of the New York delegation had led the way, a formidable coalition must have carried the convention for the Chief Justice. But the man whose subtile, mysterious influence was already beginning to be recognised as a controlling factor in the party desired Seymour, and to force his nomination he met at Delmonico's, on the evening of the fourth day, Allen G. Thurman, George E. Pugh, Washington McLean, George W. McCook, and George W. Morgan, Ohio's most influential delegates, and there arranged the coup d'état that succeeded so admirably. This scheme remained a profound secret until the Ohio delegation retired for consultation after the twenty-first ballot, so that when Seymour was addressing the New York delegation in behalf of Chase, Tilden knew of the pending master-stroke. "The artful Tilden," said Alexander Long, a well-known politician of the day, "is a candidate for the United States Senate, and he thinks that with Seymour the Democrats can carry both branches of the New York Legislature."[422]
Tilden disclaimed all instrumentality in bringing about the nomination. "I had no agency," he wrote, "in getting Governor Seymour into his present scrape."[423] He likewise professed ignorance as to what the convention would do. "I did not believe the event possible," he said, "unless Ohio demanded it."[424] This admission, frankly conceding the necessity of Ohio's action which he had himself forced, shattered the sincerity of Tilden's disclaimer.
Seymour also had difficulty in preserving the appearance of sincerity. The press claimed that when he saw the nomination coming to him with the approval of Pendleton's supporters he quickly retired instead of further insisting upon his declination. This insinuation allied his dramatic performance with Tilden's tactics, and he hesitated to expose himself to such a compromising taunt. In this emergency Tilden endeavoured very adroitly to ease his mind. "My judgment is," he wrote a mutual friend, "that acceptance under present circumstances would not compromise his repute for sincerity or be really misunderstood by the people; that the case is not analogous to the former instances which have made criticism possible; that the true nature of the sacrifice should be appreciated, while on the other hand the opposite course would be more likely to incite animadversion; that, on the whole, acceptance is the best thing. I think a decision is necessary, for it is not possible to go through a canvass with a candidate declining. I am sincerely willing to accept such action as will be most for the honour of our friend; at the same time my personal wish is acceptance. You may express for me so much on the subject as you find necessary and think proper."[425]
On August 4, when Seymour finally accepted, he neither apologised nor explained. "The nomination," he wrote, "was unsought and unexpected. I have been caught up by the overwhelming tide which is bearing us on to a great political change, and I find myself unable to resist its pressure."[426] Those who recalled the Governor's alleged tortuous course at Chicago and again at Albany in 1864 did not credit him with the candour that excites admiration. "Such men did not believe in the sincerity of Seymour's repeated declinations," said Henry J. Raymond, "and therefore accepted the final result with the significant remark, 'I told you so.'"[427] Horace Greeley was more severe. "The means by which Horatio Seymour obtained his nomination," he wrote, "are characteristic of that political cunning which has marked his career. The whole affair was an adroit specimen of political hypocrisy, by which the actual favourite of the majority was not only sold, but was induced to nominate the trickster who had defeated him."[428]
After Seymour's nomination the first expression of the campaign occurred in Vermont. Although largely Republican the Democrats made an unusually animated contest, sending their best speakers and furnishing the needed funds. Nevertheless, the Republicans added 7,000 to their majority of the preceding year. This decisive victory, celebrated in Albany on September 2, had a depressing influence upon the Democratic State convention then in session, ending among other things the candidacy of Henry C. Murphy for governor. The up-State opponents of the Tweed ring, joined by the Kings County delegation, hoped to make a winning combination against John T. Hoffman, and for several days Murphy stood up against the attacks of Tammany, defying its threats and refusing to withdraw. But he wilted under the news from Vermont. If not beaten in convention, he argued, defeat is likely to come in the election, and so, amidst the noise of booming cannon and parading Republicans, he allowed Hoffman to be nominated by acclamation.[429]
In the selection of a lieutenant-governor Tammany did not fare so well. Boss Tweed, in return for Western support of Hoffman, had declared for Albert P. Laning of Buffalo, and until District Attorney Morris of Brooklyn seconded the nomination of another, Laning's friends had boasted a large majority. Morris said he had no objection to Laning personally. He simply opposed him as a conspirator who had combined with Tammany to carry out the programme of a grasping clique. He wished the country delegates who had unconsciously aided its wire-pulling schemes to understand that it sought only its own aggrandisement. It cared nothing for the Democratic party except as it contributed to its selfish ends. This corrupt oligarchy, continued the orator, his face flushed and his eyes flashing with anger, intends through Hoffman to control the entire patronage of the State, and if Seymour is elected it will grasp that of the whole country. Suppose this offensive ring, with its unfinished courthouse and its thousand other schemes of robbery and plunder, controls the political power of the State and nation as it now dominates the metropolis, what honest Democrat can charge corruption to the opposite party? Did men from the interior of the State understand that Hoffman for governor means a ring magnate for United Sates senator? That is the game, and if it cannot be played by fair means, trickery and corruption will accomplish it. Kings County, which understands the methods of this clique, has not now and he hoped never would have anything in common with it, and he warned the country members not to extend its wicked sway.[430]
Morris' speech anticipated the startling disclosures of 1871, and as the orator raised his voice to a pitch that could easily be heard throughout the hall, the up-State delegates became deeply interested in his words. He did not deal in glittering generalities. He was a prosecuting officer in a county adjoining Tammany, and when he referred to the courthouse robbery he touched the spot that reeked with corruption. The Ring winced, but remained speechless. Tweed and his associate plunderers, who had spent three millions on the courthouse and charged on their books an expenditure of eleven, had no desire to stir up discussion on such a topic and be pilloried by a cross-examination on the floor of the convention. A majority of the delegates, however, convinced that Tammany must not control the lieutenant-governor, nominated Allen C. Beach of Jefferson, giving him 77 votes to 47 for Laning.[431]
In the light of this result Murphy's friends seriously regretted his hasty withdrawal from the contest. Morris intended arraigning Tammany in his speech, nominating the Brooklyn Senator for governor, and the latter's supporters believed that Hoffman, whom they recognised as the personal representative of the Tweed ring, must have gone down under the disclosures of the District Attorney quite as easily as did Laning. This hasty opinion, however, did not have the support of truth. Hoffman's campaign in 1866 strengthened him with the people of the up-counties. To them he had a value of his own. In his speeches he had denounced wrongs and rebuked corruption, and his record as mayor displayed no disposition to enrich himself at the expense of his reputation. He was careful at least to observe surface proprieties. Besides, at this time, Tammany had not been convicted of crime. Vitriolic attacks upon the Tweed Ring were frequent, but they came from men whom it had hurt. Even Greeley's historic philippic, as famous for its style as for its deadly venom, came in revenge for Tweed's supposed part in defeating him for Congress in 1866.[432]