watch the navigators, adjust the compasses and to use the public where it would do the most good for the Ritner party. In the way of expending money the party managers had been eminently successful. Among the enterprises to absorb the public money, employ laborers and care for the needy, and swell Ritner's support, was the Gettysburg railroad, the peculiar creation of Thaddeus Stevens, and termed by his opponents by reason of its crookedness the "Tapeworm," emblematic of its author and of the methods of its construction, and which, after a large expenditure had been made, was finally abandoned as a worthless enterprise for which there never was the slightest justification save party necessity. It so happened, too, that the storms had been unusually violent that year and had greatly injured the canals, so that an unusual number of workmen were employed to mend them, while at the same time they were not unmindful that whether the canals would need to be improved long or not depended on the re-election of Joseph Ritner and the representatives of his party. Fed on such motives those employed dug and navigated night and day, though the stories of their industry that have been preserved cluster more thickly around the "Tapeworm" than around any other of the numerous enterprises of the State.

On the other hand, Ritner's opponents were not asleep. If they had not the canals and other places where they could employ men at public expense, they had possession of Philadelphia, a great city, where it was popularly believed they could execute almost any scheme that was needful to obtain a majority of the popular vote and elect enough members to secure the legislature. The defeat of Wolf had had the effect of uniting the party, except so far as men could be drawn away by the powerful stimulants of place; thus the contest was regarded as close, and this lent extraordinary zest to it. The Democrats were eager to regain their ascendency and the multitude of places they had lost, with the rich prospect of millions more in store for them; the other party had been long enough in power to realize what a 289

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pleasant thing it was to rule and to hold office and draw a good salary and suffer others to do the work.

In these days betting was common at elections and there was no law against it on the statute-book. The chances were so even that betting was perhaps more general than ever before and the stakes higher. Ten and twenty thousand dollar stakes were put up; the names of the adventurers were known; others followed; the excitement daily increased; scheming to win, regardless of methods, grew bolder as the time for voting drew nearer. Finally the day came and the result, never awaited with so great suspense, showed that Porter had been elected by 5,540 votes. As soon as the result was known, Burrowes, who was chairman of the antiMasonic committee, issued a circular to the "Friends of Governor Ritner," calling on them to demand an investigation of the fraud at the polls, and advised them to "treat the election as if it had never taken place." The circular had the effect desired, many of the defeated candidates now learning that they had a fearless leader, determined on the smallest pretext to contest the seats of their opponents. Amid the confusion Stevens's voice was heard, not in the least dismayed by Porter's majority. He declared at a public meeting in the court-house at Gettysburg that the antiMasons would organize the House, and if Governor Porter were declared elected, the legislature would elect canal commissioners for three years and then adjourn before the date fixed by the new constitution for the inauguration and that Porter should never be Governor.

As the time drew near for the legislature to assemble (December 4) "Committees of Safety" were appointed in nearly all the counties of the State, and thousands flocked to Harrisburg to witness the scene. The House consisted of one hundred members, composed of eight from Philadelphia, whose seats were contested, forty-eight Democrats and forty-four anti-Masonic Whigs. The former clerk of the House read the names of the members given to him by the secretary of the Commonwealth.

When the returns of Philadelphia county were read, fraudulent returns signed by only six of the seventeen return judges were substituted for the legal returns. Such action having been anticipated by the Democrats, they had the true returns properly certified, which were read, and thus the returns of two sets of contesting members from Philadelphia were before the House. One set surely was wrong, and the organization of the House depended on the admission of these eight members. Thaddeus Stevens moved the immediate election of a speaker. The clerk called the roll of Whig and anti-Masonic members and declared that Thomas G. Cunningham of Beaver, was elected speaker, and he was conducted to the speaker's chair and took his seat. The Democrats, disregarding what had been done, elected William Hopkins of Washington county, speaker, who was escorted to the speaker's platform. Thus the two speakers stood close by each other and faced the house, a strange and embarrassing position for both. The next movement was by Colonel Thomas B. McElver of Bedford county, who went up to the platform and ordered Mr. Cunningham to surrender the chair to Mr. Hopkins. To Stevens's amazement especially, he yielded and took another standing close by on the same platform. Though the attempt to do business was as novel as confusing, both began by administering the oath to the members, Mr. Cunningham to fifty-two members and Mr. Hopkins to fifty-six. Thus a double House was formed and each body appointed committees to wait on the Governor and Senate and state that the House was ready to proceed to business, and then adjourned to meet the next day at ten o'clock. The Cunningham party was so eager for business that it waited only until the afternoon, met in the hall, was called to order by the speaker, who then appointed Mr. Spackman, of Philadelphia, speaker pro tem. This was too much for some of the spectators, and, impelled by their indignation, they went to the platform and carried off Spackman and put him down in not the gentlest and most dignified manner in the aisle. His career as speaker had

been much too short to distinguish himself in any manner except during the very brief moments that he was coming down the aisle on the shoulders of his indignant countrymen, when he perhaps. excited as much attention as any man who was ever in the House. With such a sudden and entirely unexpected decapitation of their speaker this discomfited rump and headless House adjourned to Matthew Wilson's hotel (now the Lochiel). Here they were left free to sit, discuss and meditate over the exciting scenes of the day without interruption.

While such was the state of affairs in the House, events in the Senate were still graver. The majority of the Senate were antiMasonic Whigs, and promptly organized by electing Charles B. Penrose speaker. There were contests from several districts and the majority were determined to seat those who would strengthen their number. Stevens and Burrowes went to the Senate to assist in the proceedings. They desired that the principle should be adopted of reading the first returns received by the secretary of the Commonwealth, whether there were a minority or majority. The two senators whose seats Stevens and his associates sought to overthrow were Messrs. Hanna and Wagner of Philadelphia. As soon as the clerk had read the returns of their opponents, Charles Brown, who had been elected on a majority return, arose and presented to the speaker a copy of the true return, declaring at the same time that the one furnished by the secretary of the Commonwealth was false. The speaker attempted to stop him, but the crowd in the lobbies shouted, "Hear Brown," "Brown shall speak." Finally, on motion of one of the senators, Brown was permitted to speak, and while speaking the people in the galleries arose, shouted and threatened violence to Burrowes, Stevens and Penrose. The spirit of the crowd quickly rose to fury. The speaker, unable to control the storm, abandoned the chair. Stevens and Burrowes escaped through a window in the rear of the Senate chamber and under the friendly shelter of darkness fled from the capitol grounds. One of the newspapers, in describing