THE FIRST BALLOT.
Tommy and his forces on High Bluff seemed to be paralyzed by the sudden
and unexpected movement initiated by Briscoe, and followed up by my
party. They did not pay much attention to voting just then, though
quite a number of them had deposited their ballots before the falling
of the pine tree. We waited a reasonable time to be assaulted; but
Major Toppleton seemed to be too much astonished to organize an attack
upon the bold assailants. He stood in front of his men, consulting
earnestly with Haven.
“Why don’t you move on, and pitch into them?” said Jed, who had come
over on the pine, with the axe in his hand.
“We are not going to pitch into them,” replied Briscoe.
“We don’t want any of them to escape,” I added.
“Leave that to me,” said Jed. “I will stand guard here, while you go up
and do your voting. I can handle the whole crowd.”
Our first business was to deposit our votes. We had already provided
ourselves with ballots.
“Music!” said Briscoe; and Fryes started Hail, Columbia.
Breaking into column, we marched towards the tin kettle, which
constituted the ballot-box. This movement ended the conference between
the two leaders of the other side. The major ordered his men into line.
By this time Bowles’s party had gathered around the voting place, as
they had been instructed to do by him, in order to defend the purity
of the election. It was plain that Tommy did not intend to do any
fighting. It would have been very foolish for him to do anything of the
kind. He marched his adherents up to the vicinity of the rock where the
ballot-box was deposited, and halted. Briscoe did the same. While the
latter was preparing to send his men up to vote in small parties, Haven
appeared before us.
“Major Toppleton desires to know what your intentions are,” said the
messenger, in a haughty tone, which, however, indicated more of disgust
at our proceedings than of pride at his own.
“We came over to vote,” replied Briscoe.
“I told you we were coming over, Haven,” I added.
“You told me, too, that you were going to lay that bridge; but you
didn’t,” sneered the ambassador.
“What bridge?” I inquired, smiling.
“The bridge down by the road,” snapped he.
“I beg your pardon.”
“Didn’t you say so?”
“Not at all; I had no more idea of laying down that bridge than I had
of drying up the lake.”
“What did you say so for, then?”
“I think I did not say so. I simply told you we should have a bridge
in season to come over and vote, I believe the promise has been kept;
at any rate, we are here, and in good time. I think you said the polls
would be closed at twenty minutes past twelve.”
“Major Toppleton does not propose to have the election continued, under
the present circumstances,” replied Haven.
“Why not, I should like to inquire?” interposed Briscoe.
“He is not going to have the election carried by force of arms.”
“There is to be no force of arms. All parties can vote quietly, and the
thing shall be fairly done.”
“But you have come over here, and taken possession.”
“We have taken possession of nothing. There is the ballot-box just as
Major Toppleton placed it, guarded by the committee whom he selected
himself,” persisted Briscoe.
“The major intends to postpone the election till it can be conducted
fairly,” added Haven.
“Allow me to suggest that it is not in the power of the major to
postpone the election. It was deferred, by vote of the battalion, to
this day and hour; and unless the battalion vote otherwise, it must
take place at the present time.”
“I will report what you say to him,” said Haven, who could not
conveniently answer the argument of the senior captain.
“If Major Toppleton desires to take a vote on the question of
postponement, we are quite willing to do so,” added Briscoe.
The messenger returned to the major; but, while the conference between
them was in progress, I took care that the voting should go on,
in order that the time might not expire before our portion of the
battalion had deposited their ballots. Tommy’s committee stood around
the tin kettle, and compelled each voter to hold up his ticket, so as
to make sure that only one vote was put in the box by a single person.
They retained their muskets, and were zealous in the discharge of their
duty. The nine fellows who had come over with Bowles stood behind the
committee as their leader had directed them to do, the moment the pine
tree fell, in order to prevent the election from being suspended, or
the ballot-box carried away by any of Tommy’s adherents.
As our votes had been previously prepared, it required but a few
moments for us to drop them into the tin kettle. Everything was done in
an entirely orderly manner, under the supervision of the committee. I
could not see the slightest chance for cheating, and I did not believe
there was any fraud on either side. As our men voted, they resumed
their places on the slope of the hill, between the committee and the
pine tree bridge.
“Tommy’s fellows are fooling away the time,” said Briscoe, anxiously.
“That is their lookout.”
“Our fellows have all voted.”
“Some of Tommy’s have also. If a quorum of the battalion have voted,
the election will be according to the by-laws, and we are all right.”
“Go up to Tommy, and tell him, that as he does not choose to put the
question on postponement, we shall consider this as an election, and
abide by the result, whatever it may be.”
I walked hastily to the spot where Tommy and Haven were discussing the
difficulties of the situation. As I approached the major, I drew my
sword, and respectfully saluted him.
“I have a message from Captain Briscoe, senior captain, in command of
that portion of the battalion which was excluded from High Bluff,” I
began.
“I don’t recognize Captain Briscoe as in command of any portion of the
battalion,” returned Tommy, with an effort to be dignified. “I have
suspended him.”
“Then I will speak for myself.”
“I have suspended you, also.”
“We are both ready to answer to any charges. I believe we are
entitled to vote, and we have done so. Our party have all deposited
their ballots. As you have not chosen to take the question upon a
postponement, we shall regard this as the election, and abide the
result, whatever it may be. This is my message. I have delivered it,
and will now retire.”
“Do you think an election held under these circumstances ought to be
considered valid?” demanded Tommy.
“I think the vote has been fairly taken, by a committee appointed by
yourself. Our party are satisfied. We intend to have the vote counted,
and the result declared.”
“You mean it!” exclaimed the major, with an attempt at a sneer, which
was only a partial success.
“Several of your party have not voted, though the time fixed by you
for keeping the polls open has expired.”
“Suppose we do not choose to vote.”
“That’s your affair. A quorum has already voted, and that is enough.
The moment the result is declared, we shall place ourselves under the
orders of the new major, whoever he may be.”
I saluted the major again, turned, and retired. We could do nothing
more; so Briscoe and I walked up to the vicinity of the voting place. I
suggested to the committee that it was time to close the polls.
“All that have not voted will do so at once!” shouted the chairman of
the committee, loud enough to be heard all over the bluff. “Polls will
close in a minute.”
“Are you going to close the polls before all have voted?” demanded
Tommy, rushing up to the tin kettle with his ballot in his hand.
“It was your order that the polls should be closed at twenty minutes
past twelve,” replied the chairman.
“This election is postponed till further orders,” said the major.
“No! No! No!” yelled our party, who had marched up to the spot.
“It cannot be postponed except by vote of the battalion,” I
remonstrated.
“Then I will take a vote. Those in favor--”
“Stop a moment, if you please, Major Toppleton,” interposed Briscoe.
“There is no motion before the battalion. No question can be put except
upon motion.”
“Mr. Commander, I move that the election be postponed for one week,”
said Haven, coming to the assistance of his chief.
“Those in favor--”
“I object!” shouted Briscoe.
“I don’t care if you do object,” replied Tommy, angrily.
“The motion has not been seconded.”
“Second the motion,” shouted one of the major’s adherents.
“It is moved and seconded that this election be postponed for one
week,” continued Tommy. “Those in favor will say, ay.”
“Ay!” cried all of the major’s party.
“Those opposed will say, no.”
“No!” yelled the rebels, with a vim which proved that they understood
the case perfectly.
“It is a vote!” added Tommy, triumphantly.
“I doubt the vote,” said I, sure of the result, if we had fair play.
“The vote is doubted.”
“I call for a division,” said Faxon.
It has always been our custom, when a vote was doubted, to divide the
house, each side marching between two tellers to be counted. The major
evidently wished to escape this ceremony but it was impossible and the
division took place. The conclusion could not be escaped; and, either
by mistake or otherwise, some of Tommy’s party voted with the rebels,
so that the result was fifty-nine for postponing the election to
ninety-one against it. Tommy repeated the statement of the vote, though
it almost choked him. Without a word, he went up to the kettle, and
dropped his vote into it. His example was followed by all the others
who had not voted.
The committee were directed to count the votes. They did so, and
handed the result to the major, on a piece of paper. He read it as
follows:--
“Whole number of votes, 153
Necessary to a choice, 77
Thomas Toppleton, 68
Robert Briscoe, 85
Robert Briscoe is elected major.”