Omaha daily bee., 1888-04-29
ROSCOE CONKLiNG.
"Reminiscences OF the Dead Statesman
by n Journalist.

oOui h"i. w iphOup poooiDil ~,
Roscoe Cokling was always on parade.
From the waist up he was a strikingly
handsome figure. From his waist down
he was rather meagerly equipped. His
legs were out OF proportion with the
rest of his body, and looked shaky. so
much so that when he walked, the
upper part of his body almost seemed to
be dragging the rest of him after him.
Like all men of profound convictions,
he was apt to be dogmatic in their as
sertion, and it was difficult for him to
regard with any degree of tolerance,
opposition or contrary argument. l
have noticed with considerable sur
prise that the press, since his death,
has dwelt upon his retirement from the
senate as the most dramatic episode of
his life.
1t was perhaps the most influential
act of his career.
1t was certainly the hinge on which
his entire future turued. 1t put him
absolutely behind the bar of preferment,
and although President Arthur did mis-
best to conciliate him and to reintre-
duce him to the foremost rank of influ-
ence by nominating him to the chief
justiceship of the United States, the
generally accepted belief was that Conk-
ling's public career was closed. Far
more dramatic than his quiet leaving of
the senate chamber was his magnificent
presence in the Chicago convention,
when, AS chief of the famous 306 third
term Grant men, he stood, the center of
applauding enthusiasts, for an hour and
a quarter, unable to make his voice
heard beyond the limits of the report
ers' table on which he stood.
What memorable occasion!
What a magnificent audience, what
n N irinu ('pnx1ipn
chairman of the New York delegation.
He stood tall some five feet ten or eleven
inches, and bore himself always with
conscious dignity, standing, when be-
fore an audience, as though he were
carved in marble, particular about the
position of his feet, and thoughtfully
careful about the pose and angles of
his body. He was conspicuous
in all public assemblages, and on this
occasion he was made the text for regu-
lar applauding recognition. When he
entered the hall, at the head of the
New York delegation, the galleries in
variably burst forth with hurrahs and
clappings. The western men, who did
not care. to have Conkling's Grant
scheme succeed, and who believed they
had all they cared for of a general in
the chair of state, selected Garfield as
their hero, and, when the Ohio delega-
tion entered the hall the applause given
Garfield, its chairman, was just as great
as that given Conkling when he entered
at the head of MS delegation. 1t has
always been question in my mind
whether Conkling had concluded, prior
to the beginning OF the balloting, that
Grant was not the choice. II has al
ways seemed to me that he eintuitionally
understood that the end had come, and
that his defiance, and the bitterness of
his memorable talk, sprang from the
conviction that no matter what he said
the end was foreordained, the verdict
| was virtually rendered. The audience
numbered not less than $4,000 people,
and it has been estimated that there
named what was facetiously called his
man, Mr.. Sherman, and Mr.. Joy hac
| misnamed his man, Mr.. Blaine, and
| New York was called for by thousands
upon thousands anxious to hear the i'm
| passioned eloquence which they knew
could be with difficulty frestrained, and
Conkling strobe proudly TO the plat
| form. Standing on reporters table,
| holding a dainty cambria handkerchief
in his nervous hand, he looked the au-
| dience over. An inspiring scene.
| Breathless with expectancy the great
multitude sat, hushed, waiting, and
| then with voice clear as any bell, the
| speaker said:
"When asked what state he halls from,
Our sole response shall be,
He comes from AppomattoX,
And its famous apple tree"
That settled it.
That settled it for the next hour and
| a quarter, during which time, as though
| pandemonium itself had broken loose,
| the audience roared and shouted,
screamed and yelled, while the hero of
| day stood patient, waiting for his chance.
| After the nomination of Garfield, which
| Conkling saw was coming, so much so
| that he wrote line OF sarcastic con-
| gratulations on the margin of news
paper and passed it to him as he sat
some ten or twelve benches in the rear,
| New York was offered, rs SOP,
the vice-presidency. Conkling ar
| gued, threatened, stormed, insist
bought nor bribed. The position
was offered 10 Levi =. Morton, and Mr..
| Morton, had he consulted his own de-
sire, would have accepted it, and had
| he done so how the course OF politics
would have changed, for at Garfeld's
death Morton, not Arthur, would have
been president, and the entire political
complexion of New York politics, and
| therefore national politics, would have
| Oeen rs ulHefenI 10 WnuI ~ soon Decaine
as light is different from darkness. But
Morton declined, at Conkling's behest.
| 1t was then offered to Chester A. Ar
| thur, Conkling's nearest and dearest
friend. With him Coukling pleaded
| long and earnestly, but, as Arthur sub
sequently said, ''1'his is one chance Of
a lifetime. Why should for tho graft
fication OF a pique, now that Grant is
removed from all possibility of nomina-
| ton, sulk in my tent and decline to ac-
cept SO significant an honor? The result
| we know, but one of the bitterest re-
suits, minor, was lack OF cordiality, a
lack OF interest, almost breaking oil
of personal intercourse, and finally a
bitter feeling, quarrel almost, between
/ the two, which was never made up q