told by one who was present that Richmond's picturesque vocabulary
of indignation and denunciation was enriched to such a degree
as to astonish and shock even the hardened Democrats who listened
to the outburst.

A committee was appointed to wait on the governor and request him
to appear before the convention. In a little while there stepped
upon the platform the finest figure in the State or country.
Horatio Seymour was not only a handsome man, with a highly
intellectual and expressive face of mobile features, which added
to the effect of his oratory, but he never appeared unless perfectly
dressed and in the costume which was then universally regarded
as the statesman's apparel. His patent-leather boots, his
Prince Albert suit, his perfectly correct collar and tie were
evidently new, and this was their first appearance. From head to
foot he looked the aristocrat. In a few minutes he became the idol
of that wild and overheated throng. His speech was a model of
tact, diplomacy, and eloquence, with just that measure of restraint
which increased the enthusiasm of the hearers. The convention,
which had gathered for another purpose, another candidate, and
a new policy, hailed with delight its old and splendid leader.

Commodore Vanderbilt had a great admiration for Dean Richmond.
The commodore disliked boasters and braggarts intensely. Those
who wished to gain his favor made the mistake, as a rule, of boasting
about what they had done, and were generally met by the remark:
"That amounts to nothing." Mr. Tillinghast, a western New York man
and a friend of Richmond, was in the commodore's office one day,
soon after Richmond died. Tillinghast was general superintendent
of the New York Central and had been a sufferer from being stepped