The April sun streamed upon a city in the
very crisis of a fever, flushed and curtained all
over with flags like a mighty booth or tent of
war. The color had apparently all passed out
of the red brick houses—now pale with placards—
into the faces of the inhabitants. The
election, rumbling and foretelling itself for
months, had come; and while parts of the
town—whole streets and neighborhoods—had
the appearance of being abandoned and desolate,
others boiled and overflowed with life like
so many whirlpools. Each poll or headquarter
of the wards was the centre and heart of
streams that choked the streets and blocked
up all passage through or beyond. Banners
run high up in the air, coiled and twisted and
turned about as often as the politicians over
whose heads they floated; others, stretched
across the thoroughfares, brushed the hats of
the crowds, and, as they wavered to and fro,
helped to fan the fire into a flame. The excitement
was by no means diminished when the
voters—many of whom had been up all night
long preparing for the contest—rubbed their
eyes, and read upon the fences affidavits (which
had just come out) to the effect that Gallipot,
the candidate of the Bottomites—as they were
known at the canvass—had been a smuggler of
British paints through the customhouse for
years; yes, British paints. Mr. Gallipot's
enemies laughed horribly when they read it;
but when they had leisure to turn round and
read on an opposite wall (it had been drafted,
printed, sworn to, and posted up almost while
they were busy spelling out the other), that
Mr. Blinker, the president of the Phœnix company,
and their own candidate—he had been
put up at the last moment by the opposition—
had murdered a traveller fourteen years before,
at Rahway, New Jersey, whose bones he had
kept ever since in a writing desk with a false
bottom, in his own house—they grinned again,
but this time they writhed and twisted as they
grinned.

In the mean time all parties were at work at
their polling places. In all the lower region
of the city the battle went smoothly; the voters
dropped in one by one, as to a party, with
their notes of invitation in their hands, and
quietly deposited their ballots, and passed
away. Further up, and nearer the heart of the
city, where life may be supposed to be more
rampant and furious, there were constant outbreaks,
little playful jets, all day long.

As these bubbled up from time to time and
burst, fragments of timber, branches of oak
and hickory, were thrown out with such violence
and spirit, as to send voters of a peaceful
turn of mind trotting up the sloping streets
which lead from this infested region; and
when such voters chanced to be of a respectable
bulk and tonnage, they were watched with no
little curiosity and interest by lookers-on who
stood at the top, and saw with what pain and
anxiety, and redness of face, they toiled up.

In another ward the poll had been constructed
and arranged a good deal on the principle of
a puzzle, which the voters frequenting there
were required, as an agreeable day's pastime,
to solve. First, you had to go through a long
blind hall, from the street; then out into a yard;
then up a flight of stairs, through a long dark
room; and then up a ladder, when, in an
apartment so small that its inmates must have
been got in by legerdemain, you had the pleasure
of meeting three gentlemen—two of them,
who approved of the juggle which had been
set by their own party, smiling cheerfully—behind
their green box, ready to wait upon you.

[figure description] Page 239.[end figure description]

Here was a delightful recreation for aged
gentlemen of inactive habits, and delicate
young gentlemen in tight-strapped pants; an
admirable device, and it worked well, for the
plotters polled two votes to one—as they had a
great run of sailors from a government vessel
in the harbor, in the morning, all on their side,
and quite as spirited an accession of lamplighters
in the afternoon.

But it was at the East river poll where
Puffer Hopkins labored, that the struggle was
steadiest and fiercest; it was the tie ward,
where parties had in the previous election cast
an equal vote, and the whole city now hung
anxiously upon its returns. The poll was held
in an old yellow building, its gable upon the
street, and its front facing the river; the voting
room was an obscure dark corner, reached by
a narrow entry, full of crooks and turns,
through an old-fashioned door-way. Around
this a great number of voters had lodged the
night through, to be in readiness to put in the
earliest vote the first day; among them were
the lightning-maker, whose uneasy slumbers
against the wall had betrayed themselves by
incessant cries of “bring the buckets!” and
the cobbler, who had not slept a wink, inasmuch
as he had been engaged with a one-eyed
stone-cutter in an elaborate argument to show
that the only debts a man was bound to pay,
were his grocer's (a line of business his wife's
brother was in), and his shoemaker's. It was
a pleasure to Puffer Hopkins to learn that the
cobbler—a convert of his own—had deposited
the first vote, although with such emphasis as
to stave in the cover of the ballot-box, and
cause himself to be taken into keeping by a
couple of officers, who led him, roaring and
remonstrating, to a neighboring watch-house.
Before the morning was half spent the election
was in full progress; there were men running
up and down the streets bringing in voters;
others, housed in small wooden booths or
cabins, distributing ballots; some declaiming,
in high gusty voices; some, farther apart from
the throng, calculating the chances of the candidates;
and others, even, who had withdrawn
into by-streets in the neighborhood of the poll,
plotting the distribution of the offices that
would fall to the share of the victorious party.
Toward the evening of the first day, to which
moment, as commanding the largest throng of
spectators, he had reserved himself, Mr.
Blinker came upon the ground, attended by
two or three hangers-on and runners, and looking
very grand and decisive. There was an
extraordinary severity in his look; although his
coat, a faded chocolate, was something the
worse for wear, and a thought or two below
the usual style of the president. This was
odd; but presently it began to be whispered
about, as all eyes were fixed upon it, that this
identical chocolate garment was the cast coat
of a distinguished senator of the United States,
who had lately made a triumphant tour through
the city. It was soon discovered, too, that the
neck-stock which Mr. Blinker now wore was
of the very same sable and satin texture as
that worn by his eminent model on that occasion.
Mr. Blinker had made influence with the
great man; and this was the result. As he was
watched, moving down the walk majestically
making gracious nods and recognitions on either
hand, it occurred to the lookers-on that Mr. B.
emulated not a little the gait and manner, and
assumed, as nearly as was attainable, the voice
of the illustrious senator. The spectacle was
imposing but not conclusive; two loafers, to
be sure, bailed the air with their hats with
such vehemence as to drive the bottoms out;
but the effect of this was entirely destroyed by
a couple of ragged young rascals, who had been
put forward, clinging to his chocolate skirts,
and whining out the paternal appellation, till
they were dragged off by main force, amid the
shouts of the mob, “That's a cruel wretch!”
“What a unfeelin' father!” and so forth.

While Mr. Blinker spent his time in this
way, strutting about the poll—it was his native
ward, and he had a pride in sticking to it—his
antagonist, Mr. Gallipot, honest Peleg Gallipot,
was all over town, in his paint-dress, making
interest, shaking hands, chewing, smoking,
drinking, as though he had been fifty men instead
of one. The Gallipot hacks and stages
rushed about, with great linen flags streaming
to the wind, as though the horses had votes as
well as the half-drunken gentlemen inside, and
were anxious to get them in. Puffer Hopkins,
for one, was everywhere; haranguing; folding
tickets; diving into committee-rooms; arguing
on the kerb; was at every man's ear; had
every man by the hand. He seemed to have
multiplied himself; every third carriage-door
that opened, lo! out popped Puffer, leading by
the hand a couple of misty sailors; a superannuated
old man; a quaker that hadn't voted
for nineteen years, or some other wonder and
miracle.

The first day closed; and at night the Gallipots
and Blinkerites repaired to their respective
quarters for an irregular canvass of the
result. The Gallipot party met in the upper
chamber of the poll, of which, as the party at
present in power, they had possession; and
their meeting was sufficiently promiscuous and
piebald. Along benches fronting the raised
platform, were seated, cheek by jowl, gentlemen
in fine beaver hats, and tatterdemalions,
with no covering but their own matted and discordant
locks; some in broadcloth coats of the
latest cut, and some in jackets that, judging by
their texture and complexion, seemed to have
been fashioned out of sweeps' blankets. The
room was full, so full that it overflowed, a
loafer or two, upon the stairs; and two or
three men who occupied the platform, and who
had watched the progress of the voting, down
stairs, through the day, called over by turn, a
list of voters which they held in their hands.
As they called, some one or other in the crowd
would answer for each name, “good,” “bad,”

[figure description] Page 240.[end figure description]

“doubtful,” as the case might be; the answer
being given by such as supposed themselves
familiar with the way of thinking and political
turn of the person called. This proceeding
was kept up till the roll was finished; which
was no sooner done, than an ambitious young
gentleman, who had stood at the doorway
watching its close, rushed off as special express
and postboy, to carry the result to Fogfire hall,
where it was waited for with much anxiety.
Two or three speeches of a highly inflammatory
character were delivered—the meeting broke
up—and the first day's work was over.

The sun, which had been in a fine mood all
the first day, shining like a great eye into all
corners of the city, warming voters into life,
rolled up the sky, on the morning of the second,
apparently as good-humored as ever. The
Blinkerites were delighted; they were the fairweather
party, and their well-dressed voters
poured in in a steady stream for a couple of
hours or better; but when, toward noon, a
large, ill-looking cloud came looming along
from the northwest, they began to grow gloomy,
and sundry of the Bottom leaders walked round
the corner and shook hands on the prospect of
a good pelting shower.

It was a false alarm; the cloud, a mere gust
of wind, passed off; the Blinkerites brightened
up wonderfully. The tide was running strong
and deep in their favor; two to one, at least,
entering the boxes on their side. Troops of
nice-looking gentlemen were hurrying in; gentlemen
of doubtful politics were going over every
minute. Blinker was standing against a
great empty hogshead, on the corner, dividing
the offices to his friends, who were gathered
round him in large numbers, in advance. Ever
since the cloud had blown over (which to be
sure they couldn't help), the Bottomites had
been horribly cast down. What was to be
done? Just then there was a shuffling of feet
in the neighborhood of the poll; a tumult in
the entry; the crowd outside looked in—there
were officers' staves crossing and clashing in
the hall; great brawny arms raised and brought
down with wonderful vigor—bodies pushed
about—and presently the whole melee came
tumbling into the street. The Gallipot leaders
rubbed their hands and chuckled; they
knew what it meant. A detachment of the
Bottom Club had been concealed under the
stairway of the hall, all the morning, lying in
wait for an opportunity (in the meantime,
amusing their leisure by tripping up as many
inconsiderate Blinker voters as they could as
they passed in) for a decisive demonstration.
They, like their friends without, had formed
good hopes of the shower; but when the air
cleared up so brightly and provokingly, they
could restrain themselves no longer. A catcall
had been given, certain members of the
fraternity had forced their way in at the back-door
of the polling-room, others from the neighboring
bar, and, first crowning the officers in
attendance, they had distributed themselves
about the hall and engendered the tumult—one
of their little plans for reorganising and reforming
society—which gave such unmixed satisfaction
to their out-of-door friends. This blow
was a decisive one; the timid and peace-affecting
Blinkerites kept aloof; and although the
Blinkerite leaders came upon the ground in the
afternoon, in tarpaulin hats and shag roundabouts,
it was impossible to recover themselves.
When the poll was shut, it was admitted on all
hands that they had run behind, a hundred at
least. There was another meeting for a canvass,
which differed from the other in no respect,
save that in its very midst, a great political
calculator, rushing in breathless from his
own house, where he had been casting up the
question, averred that they were to have, unless
their friends made superhuman exertions
to-morrow (notwithstanding present flattering
prospects), a majority of only twenty-five, with
a floating prospect of three more if the weather
proved foul. He staked his head on this result.
Another express was run to Fogfire hall;
sundry speeches of a still more excitable quality
delivered; and the meeting dispersed, feverish
and resolute.

The third day brought unexpected relays
from all quarters. The halt, the blind, the feeble,
the asthmatic—came wheezing, and hobbling,
and tottering, and groping their way to
the poll. Some poor scarecrows that appeared
to have been mouldering away for years, in
their piecemeal garments, in out-of-the-way
holes and corners, were led in by the hand, and
stood around as though they had been just dug
out. Others, reeking and bloated, with lacklustre
eyes, appeared before the green boxes,
and voted in the same manner as they would
have called for a twopenny pint of spirits.

The caldron had been stirred to its bottom,
and its very dregs were floating up. Those
that now voted were stragglers, coming in one
by one; but presently, a sharp-eyed looker-on
might have discovered that a more steady
stream was setting in, of a somewhat similar
class. This was Mr. Finch's second detachment
(his first had finished thelr work in the
various wards, stealthily, the two previous
days), his Island volunteers, who entered the
polls at intervals, deposited their votes and
quietly withdrew beyond reach of the officers'
eyes as soon as possible—going in, that was
Mr. Finch's device, most frequently on the arm
of some gentleman of known character, who
lent his responsibility for the purpose, and
sharing his good character at the ballot-box.
One of them, a notorious pickpocket, but who
had chalked his face deeply enough to get for
himself the sympathy of being a gentleman in
ill health, had even tottered in, leaning on the
shoulder of a little parson of an earnest partisan
disposition.

Sometimes, as it happened more than once,
when the volunteer firemen of Blinker politics
gathered in any considerable number about the
poll, waiting to put in their vote, a violent

p265-244 [figure description] Page 241.[end figure description]

firealarm would happen to be rungout from a neighboring
market, which soon sent them scampering
away; a fire in New York taking precedence
of a funeral, an election, and everything
else, but an invitation to a hanging inside of
the prison yard. For these alarms, the Bottomites
were indebted to the bell-ringer of their
club, who lingered about the market, pulling
the bell at opportune moments, of which he
was advised by a trusty messenger sent down
from the poll. The excitement deepened as
the day advanced; quidnunes and inquirers
came hurrying in from every direction, to learn
how the contest was going.

As the day approached its close the creed of
the two parties broadened; their promises and
professions became more frequent and more
liberal; their affection for the poor—the most
readily reached by such devices—more devoted
and fraternal. One party threw out the suggestion
that a poor man should have two votes,
in consideration of the hardships and disadvantages
of his lot. This the drummers and
declaimers of the other party answered by suggesting
that if gentlemen—gentlemen of means
and ability—had the disposition they professed
to serve the poor, why didn't they give 'em
rooms in their three-story houses, with clean
basins and towels and plenty to eat? Advancing
in this way, in their proclamations and
professions, they at last became so comprehensive
in their philanthropy, that certain poverty-stricken
and simple-minded gentlemen, who
stood by listening with greedy ear, flattered
themselves that they and their families were as
good as provided for, for the ensuing year, and
went in and voted for one ticket or another, according
as they preferred the fare, lodgings,
and accommodations held out by either party.

The concourse about the poll had swelled
steadily for hours; the street was full; the
windows of the neighborhood were packed close
with heads and faces; every lookout place of
the headquarters itself, to the very roof, was
occupied by men, women, and children, looking
eagerly down, and watching the progress of
the contest. There was a great lumber-pile
hard by, and this, too, the crowd had climbed,
and now swarmed about its top. As the sun
went down, the crowd swayed to and fro, and
there were certain persons in it who seemed to
rock it back and forth as they would a cradle,
when suddenly surging, with a terrible impulse
against the wall, it burst its way into the house,
and there was a cry that the ballot-boxes were in
danger. In a minute the officers came hurrying,
pale-faced, into the street, where they were
tossed about in the crowd, the black-and-white
tops of their staves floating about like so many
fishing-droppers; the mob swarmed in at the
windows, over the back fence, through the hall
(last of all), and the polling-room was in a trice
completely overrun.

At this moment Mr. Halsey Fishblatt, who
had prevailed on two or three sturdy men to
lift him on their shoulders, stood up, as well as
he could with such support, and removing his
hat, from which a cloudy shower of newspapers
fell, presented his face at the broken fanlight
of the entry-door. His hands were lifted
up in supplication, and his look was an imploring
one. It was some time before he could
get a hearing.

“Gentlemen, I do beseech you, I entreat and
implore you, as you value your characters as
citizens and as men, to restrain yourselves.”
From the imperfect character of the support on
which he depended, Mr. Fishblatt's observations
were extremely irregular in their delivery;
one being given, as was this, with his
face at the window, and the next being entirely
lost in the wood-work behind which his head
descended. “I would ask any gentleman
here,” remarked Mr. Fishblatt, when he came
up again, “if he keeps a snuff-box? Did he
value his privileges? There were a couple of
thousand persons in that crowd, as far as he
could judge, three children to each; there was a
spectacle, was it not? The rights and immunities
of six thousand of the rising generation hazarded
by the present outrageous outbreak.” He
went down again for a few minutes. “The
ballot-box, gentlemen,” continued Mr. Fishblatt,
on his reappearance, “is the ark of our
safety; it's the foundation of our institutions,
board, lodging, and two suits a-year to all of
us. What would we be without the sacred ballot-box?
Where would stand your City hall?
Where the old Sugar house in Liberty street?
Where the Fourth of July? Where the immortal
names of Perry and Hamilton? Where”—

He went down again; this time for good, for
his supporters, learning that the inspectors had
got off with their boxes through a by-gate into
the next yard, and so from one yard to another,
to a place of safety, had withdrawn, and
Mr. Fishblatt was permitted to fall like a halfrisen
balloon, among the crowd. The crowd,
who had given but little heed to Mr. Fishblatt's
appeal, finding there was no further sport going
forward, gradually broke up and dispersed.
The election was at an end; the great contest
determined one way or the other.