Had I not sprung General Dix on that Convention at the peculiar moment, as described in the last chapter, Judge Robertson would have carried the day with flying colors. It was a sudden and crushing blow to the prospects of himself and his political friends, and it dissipated some of the brightest hopes and brilliant schemes that had ever originated in the fertile brain of Senator Conkling. As a consequence of the unique turn that affairs took on that day, the Senator was placed in a false position in relation to some of his best friends. Several of the latter were put in an attitude whereby they misinterpreted the actions of Senator Conkling at that Convention, and unjustly accused him of betraying friends that he had promised to support. This was the result of a misconception on their part, that the Senator was the prime mover of the _coup d’etat_ that surprised the Convention in the nomination of General Dix. The credit was awarded to Conkling, without any hesitation or inquiry, and he was either too proud, or too indifferent to public opinion to explain. If he had explained his position candidly the chances are that his explanation would have been taken in a Pickwickian or political sense. In fact, he was in a position where he could hardly escape the responsibility of Dix’s nomination, and everybody was ready to believe that the movement in favor of Dix was too good a thing to be engineered by a man of less calibre. It would have been useless, therefore, for anybody else to explain, as the person attempting to do so would only have been laughed to scorn. Judge Robertson, himself the greatest sufferer by the curious turn affairs had taken, was the first to believe that the nomination of Dix was one of Conkling’s masterstrokes of political policy. He never thought of looking to any other source for its emanation. He believed in his soul it was the work of Conkling, and he thinks so to this day. I happened to have been better informed, however; but my explanation would have hardly passed muster at that time, and I would have been charged with egotism if I had attempted to explain. I think an explanation is now in order, however, and may point a moral as well as help to adorn a tale. History is said to be philosophy teaching by example, and one great historian has said that no one event in itself is any more important than another, except from what it teaches posterity by its example. So, for the benefit of posterity, I now state the facts on this historical principle. I am willing to make affidavit on the revised edition of the good book that prior to the Utica Convention the name of General Dix was not even lisped by Senator Conkling within my hearing, nor was Dix ever thought of even remotely by the Senator as a possible candidate.