In the foolish fever of the reconstruction era this system had been spread over the South as the safeguard of the new ideas and new institutions then introduced. It was foolishly believed that it would produce upon the soil of the South the same beneficent results as had crowned its career at the North. So the counties were subdivided into small self-governing communities, every resident in which was entitled to a voice in the management of its domestic interests. Trustees and school commissioners and justices of the peace and constables were elected in these townships by the vote of the inhabitants. The roads and bridges and other matters of municipal finance were put directly under the control of the inhabitants of these miniature boroughs. Massachusetts was superimposed upon South Carolina. That system which had contributed more than all else to the prosperity, freedom, and intelligence of the Northern community was invoked by the political theorists of the reconstruction era as a means of like improvement there. It did not seem a dangerous experiment. One would naturally expect similar results from the same system in different sections, even though it had not been specifically calculated for both latitudes. Especially did this view seem natural, when it was remembered that wherever the township system had existed in any fullness or perfection, there slavery had withered and died without the scath of war; that wherever in all our bright land the township system had obtained a foothold and reached mature development, there intelligence and prosperity grew side by side; and that wherever this system had not prevailed, slavery had grown rank and luxuriant, ignorance had settled upon the people, and poverty had brought its gaunt hand to crush the spirit of free men and establish the dominion of class.
The astute politicians of the South saw at once the insane folly of this project. They knew that the system adapted to New England, the mainspring of Western prosperity, the safeguard of intelligence and freedom at the North, could not be adapted to the social and political elements of the South. They knew that the South had grown up a peculiar people; that for its government, in the changed state of affairs, must be devised a new and untried system of political organization, assimilated in every possible respect to the institutions which had formerly existed. It is true, those institutions and that form of government had been designed especially to promote and protect the interests of slavery and the power of caste. But they believed that the mere fact of emancipation did not at all change the necessary and essential relations between the various classes of her population, so far as her future development and prosperity were concerned.
Therefore, immediately upon the "redemption" of these states from the enforced and sporadic political ideas of the reconstruction era, they set themselves earnestly at work to root out and destroy all the pernicious elements of the township system, and to restore that organization by which the South had formerly achieved power and control in the national councils, had suppressed free thought and free speech, had degraded labor, encouraged ignorance, and established aristocracy. The first step in this measure of counter-revolution and reform was to take from the inhabitants of the township the power of electing the officers, and to greatly curtail, where they did not destroy, the power of such officers. It had been observed by these sagacious statesmen that in not a few instances incapable men had been chosen to administer the laws, as justices of the peace and as trustees of the various townships. Very often, no doubt, it happened that there was no one of sufficient capacity who would consent to act in such positions as the representatives of the majority. Sometimes, perhaps, incompetent and corrupt men had sought these places for their own advantage. School commissioners may have been chosen who were themselves unable to read. There may have been township trustees who had never yet shown sufficient enterprise to become the owners of land, and legislators whose knowledge of law had been chiefly gained by frequent occupancy of the prisoner's dock.
Such evils were not to be endured by a proud people, accustomed not only to self-control, but to the control of others. They did not stop to inquire whether there was more than one remedy for these evils. The system itself was attainted with the odor of Puritanism. It was communistic in its character, and struck at the very deepest roots of the social and political organization which had previously prevailed at the South.
So it was changed. From and after that date it was solemnly enacted that either the Governor of the State or the prevailing party in the Legislature should appoint all the justices of the peace in and for the various counties; that these in turn should appoint in each of the subdivisions which had once been denominated townships, or which had been clothed with the power of townships, school commissioners and trustees, judges of election and registrars of voters; and that in the various counties these chosen few, or the State Executive in their stead, should appoint the boards of commissioners, who were to control the county finances and have direction of all municipal affairs.
Of course, in this counter-revolution there was not any idea of propagating or confirming the power of the political party instituting it! It was done simply to protect the State against incompetent officials! The people were not wise enough to govern themselves, and could only become so by being wisely and beneficently governed by others, as in the ante-bellum era. From it, however, by a curious accident, resulted that complete control of the ballot and the ballot-box by a dominant minority so frequently observed in those states. Observe that the Legislature or the Executive appointed the justices of the peace; they in turn met in solemn conclave, a body of electors, taken wholly or in a great majority from the same party, and chose the commissioners of the county. These, again, a still more select body of electors, chose with the utmost care the trustees of the townships, the judges of election, and the registrars of voters. So that the utmost care was taken to secure entire harmony throughout the state. It mattered not how great the majority of the opposition in this county or in that; its governing officers were invariably chosen from the body of the minority.
By these means a peculiar safeguard was also extended to the ballot. All the inspectors throughout the state being appointed by the same political power, were carefully chosen to secure the results of good government. Either all or a majority of every board were of the same political complexion, and, if need be, the remaining members, placed there in order that there should be no just ground of complaint upon the part of the opposition, were unfitted by nature or education for the performance of their duty. If not blind, they were usually profound strangers to the Cadmean mystery. Thus the registration of voters and the elections were carefully devised to secure for all time the beneficent results of "redemption." It was found to be a very easy matter to allow the freedman to indulge, without let or hindrance, his wonderful eagerness for the exercise of ballotorial power, without injury to the public good.
From and after that time elections became simply a harmless amusement. There was no longer any need of violence. The peaceful paths of legislation were found much more pleasant and agreeable, as well as less obnoxious to the moral feelings of that portion of mankind who were so unfortunate as to dwell without the boundaries of these states.
In order, however, to secure entire immunity from trouble or complaint, it was in many instances provided that the ballots should be destroyed as soon as counted, and the inspectors were sworn to execute this law. In other instances, it was provided, with tender care for the rights of the citizen, that if by any chance there should be found within the ballot-box at the close of an election any excess of votes over and above the number the tally-sheet should show to have exercised that privilege at that precinct, instead of the whole result being corrupted, and the voice of the people thereby stifled, one member of the board of inspectors should be blindfolded, and in that condition should draw from the box so many ballots as were in excess of the number of voters, and that the result, whatever it might be, should be regarded and held as the voice of the people. By this means formal fraud was avoided, and the voice of the people declared free from all legal objection. It is true that when the ticket was printed upon very thin paper, in very small characters, and was very closely folded and the box duly shaken, the smaller ballots found their way to the bottom, while the larger ones remained upon the top; so that the blindfolded inspector very naturally removed these and allowed the tissue ballots to remain and be counted. It is true, also, that the actual will of the majority thus voting was thus not unfrequently overwhelmingly negatived. Yet this was the course prescribed by the law, and the inspectors of elections were necessarily guiltless of fraud.
So it had been in Horsford. The colored majority had voted when they chose. The ballots had been carefully counted and the result scrupulously ascertained and declared. Strangely enough, it was found that, whatever the number of votes cast, the majorities were quite different from those which the same voters had given in the days before the "redemption," while there did not seem to have been any great change in political sentiment. Perhaps half a dozen colored voters in the county professed allegiance to the party which they had formerly opposed; but in the main the same line still separated the races. It was all, without question, the result of wise and patriotic legislatioa!