During modern elections, Democrats and Republicans show
their loyalty with lawn signs. In the 1800s, it was tree poles. They were
erected on main streets and lawns around the country during rambunctious
“pole raisings,” which attracted large numbers of party
faithful and faithful partiers.
In the 1844 presidential election, which pitted
Democrat James K. Polk against Whig candidate Henry Clay, the Democrats
erected hickory poles (to honor Democrat Andrew Jackson, “Old
Hickory”) while the Whigs chose poles from ash trees, honoring
Clay’s home, “Ashland.”
When it came to poles, there were two rules: the bigger
the better and don’t mess with the other guys’ pole.
Frequently, however, local rascals would cut down
opponents’ poles, according to Paul Angle’s Here I Have Lived: A History of Lincoln’s Springfield (Chicago and Lincoln’s New Salem, 1971).
“Then it would be reported that ‘some miserable, infamous,
low-flung, narrow-minded, ungodly, dirt-eating, cut-throat, hemp-deserving,
deeply-dyed, double-distilled, concentrated miscreant of miscreants”
had “sinned against all honor and decency.” Later the offending
party would hurl worse words against the first party when their faithful
chopped down the other’s poles.
In 1844, the pole wars turned fatal. At a sunrise pole
raising, to which “sweethearts, wives and daughters were
invited,” Democrats erected a 150-foot pole by the sympathetic Illinois State Register’s
office (on Adams Street, near Fifth Street), according to Abraham Lincoln
Presidential Library and Museum historian Bryon Andreasen. Not to be
outdone, Springfield Whigs planned to raise the biggest pole in the nation
near the Whig newspaper’s (Sangamo
Journal) office. It was 214 1/2 feet tall and
weighed 22,000 pounds.
On the Whigs’ pole raising day (Aug. 3, 1844),
“the city was crowded with delegates from all parts of the State,
expecting a grand occasion for congratulation,” according to the History of Sangamon County, Illinois (Inter-state Publishing Company, 1881). The crowd gathered at
the corner of Sixth and Washington Streets, where an enormous foundation
“of timbers and stone sunk 12 feet underground” had been
prepared.
A derrick, with an 80-foot mast, had been constructed
to raise the pole. As the raising began, there was a problem and John
Brodie, a 50-year-old mason, climbed up to fix it. Eighteen-year-old
William Conant followed to help.
The derrick fell. Brodie hung on while Conant jumped
from 60 feet up. Brodie was crushed. Conant fell “with a sickening
thud,” the book says. He fractured several ribs and suffered a
compound fracture in his right ankle. He was on crutches for two years and
narrowly escaped amputation of his ankle, which was permanently injured.
Almost immediately, accusations arose that Democrats
had booby-trapped the derrick, but a closer look revealed the real culprit
was structural problems, not malice.
The local Whig Club met four days after the accident
and member Abraham Lincoln introduced a resolution related to the mishap,
which the club approved. (The full resolution is in the Collected Works of Abraham Lincoln,
Volume 1.)
It said that out of “a profound respect”
for John Brodie “and the peculiarly afflictive manner of his
death,” the club would appoint a committee to see if Brodie’s
family would let it put a tombstone on Brodie’s grave. In addition,
the committee would keep in touch with Brodie’s widow to determine
how the club could assist her and her family on an ongoing basis.
Lincoln, other Whigs, and even local Democrats tried to
help the young, injured William Conant. “Mr. Lincoln was almost
constantly by (his) sickbed,” according to the History of Sangamon County, Illinois.
“As soon as he was able to leave the house, Mr. Lincoln took young
Conant to a Whig demonstration in Jacksonville, making the journey by easy
stages in a carriage.”
Undeterred, even by permanent injury and a fatality,
the Whigs tried again to raise their mega- “Liberty pole.”
According to the Sangamo Journal, after two hours they succeeded — 20 days after their
original, disastrous attempt. This time there were no injuries or deaths. A
flag and a 150-foot-long streamer, with the word “Union,”
billowed from its top. The pole remained until after November’s
election, when it was finally removed out of “fears of its safety
from winter storms,” according to the Sangamon County history. As a
token of their appreciation, local Whigs gave crippled William Conant the
pole’s streamer as a keepsake. It’s surprising Conant wanted a
keepsake from that election. Not only did it cripple him, but the Whigs
lost.
Tara McClellan McAndrew has been writing about local
history for the past four years.
This article appears in Oct 16-22, 2008.
