And yet, when the election day came, every election
precinct in the Territory, except one, was taken possession of by bodies
of men from Missouri, and the elections had been carried, not by _bona
side_ citizens, but by an outside invasion. With pain and shame, and
bitter resentment, my neighbors told me how they had driven their wagons
to the place of voting, on the prairie, and hitched their horses to
their wagons, and were quietly going about their business, when with a
great whoop and hurrah, which frightened their horses and made them
break loose from their wagons, a company of men came in sight, and with
swagger and bluster, took possession of the polls, and proceeded to do
the voting. Meantime whisky flowed like water, and the men, far gone in
liquor, turned the place into a bedlam. In utter humiliation and disgust
many of the squatters went home. Caleb May did not get into the
neighborhood till afternoon. Before he got to the place of voting, he
met Joseph Potter, and on hearing what was done he threw his hat on the
ground, and in a towering rage protested he would no longer vote with a
party that would treat the people of the Territory in such a way as
that.
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