The reader whose memory goes back twenty years, and even less, in matters pertaining to Lynn, well remembers the old Town Hall as it stood on South Common street, at the head of what is now Blossom street - then only a court ending at the yard in the rear of the old hall. It was not an imposing structure, though when it was built, in 1814, it was doubtless regarded with pride by the architect who planned it, as well as by the citizens who furnished the money for its construction. It was so many times larger than any of the shoemakers' shops that were seen in all the streets of the town at that time, and so much larger than any other building, public or private, with very few exceptions, that it was, without doubt, pointed to by our fathers as a structure reflecting credit upon the taste and public spirit of our ancient town. Its dimensions were about one hundred feet in length, and sixty feet in width. When it was built it stood on the Common, nearly opposite Hanover street, its front facing the east end of the Common. A considerable part of the lower story was taken up with a wide passage way, or hall, running its entire length, and having wide doors at either end; and through this passage the military, on "training days," marched, coming out at the west end near the old Gun House, which then stood on the Common - preparatory to receiving the final order to "break ranks," when the patriotic service of the day was over. On the right of this passage were rooms used at different times as the armories of some of the military companies, and sometimes for other purposes connected with the public service. On the left was, first, a room used for general purposes, and next, the Selectmen's room, which was also the office of the Town Clerk and Collector of Taxes. The hall occupied the entire second story. This was reached by a flight of stairs on either side leading from the front door. At the rear end was a low platform raised two short steps above the floor. This platform covered a space some fifteen feet square, surrounded by a railing. In the front, about three feet from the railing, was a "barricade," or fence, making a passage way, through which voters passed to deposit their ballots in a box which was placed midway, and just behind the front railing. Voters also passed through this passage when the important parliamentary proceeding of "polling the house" was resorted to. The space enclosed by this railing was popularly called the "calf-pen." The writer has not been able to trace out the origin of this name. Whether its looks, or its size, or the use to which it was put, were suggestive of such an agricultural inclosure is not known. On this point history is silent, and the reader is left in the unfettered exercise of his opinion to settle the question as he pleases.

TOWN MEETING IN THE OLD TOWN HALL.

    
     The town meeting of the olden time was a great event. The "March meeting," when the expenditures for the ensuing year were determined, and all questions relating to the amount to be expended by each department were discussed and settled; and the fall election, when all questions of state and national importance were to be acted upon by the independent voters of the town, had a social and domestic significance, as well as a public and political meaning. Here were gathered twice a year, not only friends and near neighbors confined within the narrow limits of a ward, as now, under our city charter's regulation, but relatives and acquaintances, coming all the way from Nahant, on the south, to the boundaries of Marblehead, Salem and Danvers, on the north, and from Swampscott, on the east, to the lines that separated our territory from Saugus and Lynnfield, on the west. It was a day when old friendships were renewed; when inquiries after health and absent friends were made; and when questions about crops, business, politics, and everything pertaining to personal welfare and the public good, were freely asked and answered. And so couples here and there were scattered round the hall, and in pleasant weather, about the door, asking all sorts of questions, and discussing every topic, public and private, from Jackson's bank veto, and the question whether it was better to elect old - Overseer of the Poor for another year, down to the scarcely less momentous questions of a more private nature - whether old - "knocked off" finding paste-flour because it was so high, and whether he'll make the plan work; and whether it was best to "stand a cut" of two cents a pair which the boss made because a few lots run from "twos to sixes," instead of from" threes to sevens."

     On important election days, when some great crisis arose in national, state or town affairs, the old hall was crowded from the hour the doors were opened until the polls were closed. During the anti-masonic controversy Lynn shared the general excitement. State and town elections turned upon this question, and it came well nigh entering as an element in the presidential contest of 1832 .. A national convention of anti-masons was held in 1831, and William Wirt was nominated as their presidential candidate. He carried one state - Vermont giving him her seven electoral votes. The "antis" were largely in the ascendency here, and it was thought as important that the town officers should be of the right stripe as at any time since Federalists and Republicans divided the nation into parties. Now and then a fierce "anti" and zealous brother of the ancient order would meet face to face on election day. Then remarks would be indulged in too personal to be warranted by parliamentary law; and sometimes an intimation would be thrown out by one party that, at some previous period in the life of the other, somebody found a difficulty in collecting a little bill when it became due, and did n't succeed much better at any time thereafter. Then a retort would be hurled back having a physiological bearing, to the effect that the other's head was altogether too red to take an impartial view of the matter, and if he, the aforesaid with red hair, was not shielded by considerations of old age, and other circumstances, he would settle the case then and there, without the aid of referees. Boys of all sizes would gather round - some of them pretty large - to hear these "poppets," as they were called, and to get their vocabulary enlarged with several phrases not found in any volume of "elegant extracts."

     When the election promised to be at all close, the choice of moderator was the result of an exciting contest. Then the one who yelled the loudest, or stood nearest the clerk - who put the motion - would get the name of his favorite candidate before the meeting. Then the clerk would declare that the name of Benjamin Mudge, or some one of a half dozen who every now and then held the helm - not exactly of state, but of town meeting - would be the nominee. And no ordinary hand, either, was needed to navigate in those stormy waters where often there was a heavy sea running, and occasionally a "short chop" caused by a sudden change of wind. Then the clerk would put the vote: "As many as are in favor of Benjamin Mudge serving as Moderator of this meeting will manifest it by saying aye." Instantly a yell arose, more or, less vociferous, according to the strength of the political gale then blowing. This was often decisive enough to settle the matter without the formality of calling the negative; and when the nays were called, and but a small show was made, a shout of laughter made the old hall echo - a shout that was generally repeated with greater emphasis when some wag made a comment more significant than parliamentary. But if the vote was more evenly divided, and the clerk declared a choice, then a half-dozen would doubt the vote, and the clerk would call for a show of hands until counted. This was generally an uncertain and unsatisfactory job; and unless the majority was very clear it would be decided to "poll the house." Then the clerk would order that those in favor of the motion should pass through the opening in front of the railing that they might be counted. This would sometimes be an amusing proceeding. Young men who had just become invested with the rights of citizenship would march through as though the weight of empires rested on their shoulders. This would be the opportunity for a few wags who occupied a commanding position on some of the high seats on either side of the hall to indulge in comments, miscellaneous in their character, and comprehensive in their range, upon the various classes of citizens as they discharged the high prerogative of freemen. These observations included remarks upon dress, size and general appearance of the individual, as well as matters of detail, such as length of the nose, color of the hair, shape of the head, or any other peculiarity of person or wardrobe. Here was an excellent opportunity to study human nature and the fashions at the same time, and the wags improved it. The outskirts of the town were then, much more than now, rural districts, and some of the fashions were unique as well as antique. Some of them dated back to the first part of the century, and some of them would be a compound of late and earlier styles.

     At this stage of the meeting, perhaps, the "unterrified" from Swampscott had not arrived; but before the "yeas " had all passed through, the martial drum and the piercing fife announced the coming of the sturdy fishermen hosts that never marched except to victory. Then a rush of boys - some of them pretty well grown up - would pour out at the door and down over the stairs to meet the "old guard." Soon the heavy tread of fishing boots would be heard - there were no rubber boots then; and probably not a pair of French boots was seen in the whole lot - and the invincible army whose presence was a presage of victory, marched into the hall with "Cap'n Natty" at its head. Ney, as he led the Imperial Guard, might have had more horses shot under him, and his face more blackened with powder, but he never marched with a prouder step when his great captain gave the destinies of Europe into his hands on the field of Waterloo, than "Captain Natty," as he led the one hundred, more or less, to the bloodless victories that never ended in a Waterloo, or a Peterloo; for his veterans never blenched before any danger on the land or on the sea - especially on the sea. Then the cry would go up - not exactly the cry of Winkelried's "Make way for Liberty!" - but one animated by the same spirit. "Make way for Swampscott." Then they would march in solid phalanx - as solid as practicable - through the passage in front of the "calf-pen," and the destinies of the day were sealed. It was almost ridiculous after this for the "nays" to attempt to make a show; but they always did; and when the clerk announced the result, showing that the ayes had it by an overwhelming majority - though he did n't put it in that form - a shout would go up, mingled with sundry comments more emphatic than parliamentary. But, perhaps, before this question was settled, some zealous leader of the opposition, whether Mason or Whig, would demand to know whether this military style was not an infringement upon the sacredness of the ballot? He would like to know whether citizens were to be overawed in the discharge of their solemn public duties by an imposing display of numbers, and the exciting strains of martial music? These questions were usually regarded as too heavy for the clerk, and the occasion, and as the questioner generally wanted to know too much, the answers he got were about as satisfactory as those given by young Barnacle at the "Circumlocution Office." But they were more miscellaneous. From twenty to five hundred would answer at once. As so many could not judicially consider the matter at the same time, the replies were not strictly forensic and argumentative in their character. " O, you go home! " "Stop your clack!" "What are you going to do about it ?" were a few of the questions, so rapidly put that no reporter could note them down, and which it would have taken several days to answer. Besides these, several side questions would be asked, by one another in the crowd, such as "What's that distressing Whig talking about?" and others more personal and less complimentary.

     In due time the decision was officially announced that somebody had been chosen Moderator. Then the regular day's work of voting for the several candidates who were to fill state, county, or town offices - or national, if any such were to be elected - began. A good many episodes occurred to vary the ordinary events of the day, especially if the election was at all exciting. A good many teams would be needed to bring voters from distant parts of the town, as well as the aged or feeble who lived near. Every now and then a team would drive up to the door of the Town House, the horse white with lather, and the wagon, carriage, chaise - "the one horse shay," which Holmes has immortalized, was then much in use - or whatever was the vehicle attached, full, and sometimes more than full, of free and independent electors, ready to sacrifice one day, at least, on the altar of their country, and, in an emergency, two or three. Each arrival would be the occasion for some remark, joke, or "guffaw," as the political complexion of the voters in the several teams seemed to foreshadow the final issue of the contest. Now and then some "Loco," willing to extend his usefulness, would intimate to a faithful ally that Old J.'s team was outside - naming some fiery Whig - and inquire how it would do to get it and go after some Democratic voters. If the suggestion met with a favorable response, Old J.'s team would be used for the illegitimate purpose of bringing "Loco" voters to swell a Democratic victory. Perhaps soon after some zealous Whig would step up to Mr. J. with the inquiry, "Can I have your team to go after Mr. So-and-so?" "Oh, yes; you'l1 find it right out there in the shed." As Old J.'s team was by this time somewhere in Woodend, or somewhere else more or less distant, it was, by a generally admitted principle in physics, not found in the shed. The case would be reported to Old J. The demonstration that followed varied according to the circumstances. It was not generally concluded that the horse had run off. The inquiry would more likely be - "What - (adjective) Locofoco has stole my team ?" This would be the signal for the few Democrats who were in the secret to break out into a roar of laughter; and for months after, in certain shoemakers' shops, an explosion of "guffaws" would take place whenever anybody inquired how many "Loco" voters Dick got with Old J .'s. team. A good deal of amusement was got out of this business of rallying voters. A few years after the time to which this history is now referring, Robert Rantoul was in the field to receive some political honor, if the people so willed it. An active young Democrat, willing to aid the candidate in reaching the goal of his ambition, volunteered his services as one of the rallying committee. Putting his head inside the door of a shoemaker's shop, he called out - "Any Rantoul voters here?" There was a simultaneous movement within, and one of the crew, armed with a "skiver," started for the door. The young Democrat did not stop to inquire whether he was to be halved and quartered, or whether he was simply wanted to turn the grindstone for the man with the skiver, but made the best use of his flexible limbs, and reached his team in safety. He had stumbled upon a Whig shop.

     As the word "Locofoco," as a party name, came into use about this time it is, perhaps, significant enough to warrant the following explanation, given by Webster in his quarto dictionary, of the origin of the word as thus applied:

          "Locofoco - According to some etymologists from the Latin loco foci, instead of fire; according to Bartlett, it was called so from a self-lighting cigar, with a
     match composition at the end, invented in 1834, by John Marck, in New York, and called by him locofoco cigar, a word coined in imitation of the word locomotive,
     which, by the vulgar, was supposed to mean self-moving. The name was applied, in 1834, to the extreme portion of the Democratic party, because, at a meeting in
     Tammany Hall, New York, in which there was great diversity of sentiment, the chairman left his seat, and the lights were extinguished, with a view to dissolve the
      meeting; when those in favor of extreme measures produced locofoco matches, rekindled the lights, continued the meeting, and accomplished their object."

     There is always a class in every community whose political color is not brought out until election morning. This class existed fifty years ago as well as now, and to secure their suffrages, to turn the scale in doubtful contests, was an art studied in those days as well as at present. Some of these cases required a good deal of strategy, and nobody could tell how they would come out until the vote was safely deposited in the ballot box. The plots of one party would be overthrown by the counter plots of the other, and many a deep laid plan was countermined, and blown into the air, just as victory was within sight. It was necessary to get possession of some of these voters at the critical time or the whole game would be lost. This was especially the case with those who exhilarated their spirits with any of the artificial drinks then in common use. Such were supplied with a liberal allowance of "black-strap" and New England rum, and stowed away in a safe place - generally in the shop chamber - until the time when they were to be taken to the polls. If the victim was a Whig, or had proclivities that way when in his normal condition, his friends would, perhaps, capture him before the crisis was reached, and so snatch victory from the very jaws of defeat. In that case, all the "black-strap" and New England rum went for nothing. Then the other party would return the joke whenever the chance came. There was a set of old codgers in almost every neighborhood who furnished the material for this political guerrilla warfare, though it is not to be supposed there were many such. Whichever party got at them first, and held out the needful inducement, (the inducement was generally in a liquid form, and was not often milk and water,) and - more important than all- kept them under the necessary guard, so as to be sure of them at the nick of time, would so far swell the vote for their favorite candidate. Sometimes inducements of other kinds were held out, and failed from causes so exceptional that even the wisdom of a politician could not foresee and provide against them - as in the following case : Uncle W. was getting into the "sere and yellow leaf," and was at this time about seventy-three years of age. His ideas of chronology were not always clear, even those concerning his own age, as the sequel shows. His proclivities were decidedly Whig, or at least had been when the cog-wheels of his mental machinery were less broken than now; but he lived in a Democratic neighborhood, and had many friends and acquaintances among the adherents of Jackson and Van Buren. A zealous young Democrat - who, if called Simon, would not answer to the name - on good terms with Uncle W., laid a deep plan to secure his vote at the next election, then a few months ahead. Simon was somewhat expert at hair-cutting, and could, upon occasion, shave a customer, though his regular business was shoe making. It was accordingly arranged that he should keep Uncle W.'s hair and beard in good trim, and so pave the way to make a good Democrat of him by the time election day came round. The day came round, of course, and Uncle W. came, too, sufficiently guarded to provide against all reasonable contingencies. But some wags had got wind of the affair, and understanding the situation generally, as well as Uncle W.'s unreliability, and uncertain movements in particular, were on hand ready to turn things to the best account. Uncle W., duly provided with the right ballot, was led up to the box. " I challenge that man's vote," shouted one of the wags. "On what ground?" asked the Moderator. "He has not paid his poll tax." "Mr. W.," inquired the Moderator, "have you paid a poll tax within two years?" Uncle W. admitted that he had not added that amount to the town treasury. "He is seventy-three years of age," said one of Uncle W.'s guard, "and is entitled to the exemption of his poll tax which the law allows to citizens over seventy." "What is your age, Mr. W. ?" asked the Moderator. "If my memory sarves me," said Uncle W., " I 'm a leetle risin' sixty-seven!" As the Moderator could n't go behind this statement, Uncle W., and the Democratic party, lost a vote. But the sorest loss came to Simon, who saw the fabric that he had slowly reared by his industry, and his tonsorial art, sink down and go out of sight just as the cap-sheaf was to be placed upon it. But all that was lost by Uncle W., and the Democratic party, and Simon, put together, was more than made up by the fun the wags got out of it. Simon is occasionally reminded, even at this late day, of his haircutting enterprise with Uncle W. in behalf of popular government.

     John E. was well-known as a stanch Democrat, ready, with both hands, to push on the party column to victory, and willing to avail himself of any outside aid, such as a horse and carriage might furnish. Politely stepping up to Mr. B., then a candidate for senatorial honors on the Whig side, John blandly informed the candidate that he knew two voters who, he thought, could be secured if they should be sent for, and asked Mr. B. if he had any objection to having his carriage - which stood near - used for this purpose. "Not in the least," said Mr. B., in the most affable manner, doubtless flattered with what seemed to him the compliment of having enlisted the aid of a political opponent in his behalf. John brought two good Democrats, and it was said a good many more, whose united votes did not swell Mr. B.'s majority.

     The March meeting was often of more interest than any other of the year. This is easily explained. The interests involved in national and state elections are more remote, and do not touch the individual at so many points as in the election of town or municipal officers. Whatever is practical in our theory of government is made so, in a great degree, by the execution of those local laws which determine the great question of taxation, and the objects to which public money shall be applied. What our schools shall be, how the poor in our midst shall be provided for, how our property shall best be protected against fire, whether our roads shall be good or bad, what the public regulations shall be for the safety of person and property, are questions of such interest that the simplest minds can understand their direct bearing, even if they do not see the remote consequences that often come from public measures. For these reasons the March meeting had an interest that called together a crowd in the old Town Hall not often seen at other town meetings. This was especially the case when some unusual appropriation might be looked for, such as a new engine, or a new school-house, or the purchase of any property by the town, or any expenditure whatever that involved an increase in the appropriation. Accordingly, when that item of business - the amount of appropriation - came before the meeting, all ears were open to hear the motion - "I move you, Mr. Moderator, that the appropriation for the ensuing year be - thousand dollars." If this blank was filled with what was thought to be about the right sum, it was put to vote without any attempt at amendment; but this was not generally the case. If the man who made the motion had a hobby, or was suspected of having one, the amount would be considered too large. Then some one would move that the amount be fixed at a lower sum. Then, possibly, a debate would arise whether the question should be first taken on the original motion, according to the common practice of taking the question on the largest sums first, or whether the vote on the amendment should be first taken, in conformity to the rule giving precedence to an amendment. But the niceties of parliamentary law were not then much dwelt upon. Cushing's Manual had not then made its appearance, neither had the famous Silsbee Street Debating Society set up its beacon light of instruction, illuminating the whole circle of human knowledge, and making clearer the boundary of public duty and the line of individual rights. Jefferson's Manual was the great authority upon parliamentary law, but probably not six copies could then be found within the limits of the town. And so not much time was spent in wrangling over points of order. Business was disposed of in an off-hand manner, and when a blunder was made that might render the town liable for damages, or any illegal action was taken, the legislature could set everything all right by legalizing the proceedings, and so straighten whatever was crooked in the doings of the sovereign people in town meeting assembled.

     But the amount of the appropriation was finally fixed to the satisfaction of most, and to the dissatisfaction of many, as a matter of course. But whatever the sum, whether large or small, it was likely to be overrun more or less. We have, improved very much in this respect of late years. Our fathers could make the expenses overrun the appropriation a few hundred dollars, but we can overlap several thousands without making any special effort. But there were some in those days, as now, who did n't believe in this method of doing business. Capt. D. was one. "What is the use," said he, "of appropriating a certain amount every year, and then spending more every time? Why not have enough to go round? I move, Mr. Moderator, that the appropriation be $1,000,000." As this figure was half the valuation of the town - more or less - at that time, Capt. D. seemed to think that the sum was ample.

     The crowd present on many of these election days was the occasion, oftentimes, of noisy demonstrations. A large per cent. of boys and youngsters were usually on hand, ready to turn any incident to the best account, and enliven the scene with jokes, witticisms, and, if temptation seemed to offer, more forcible exhibitions of pleasantry and youthful independence. The constable, armed with the majesty of the law, which seemed to be embodied in the emblem of authority - the baton - he wielded, was often the center of attraction in more senses than one. Not only were all eyes and ears turned toward him as the most conspicuous figure of the group, but he often felt the weight and pressure of more immediate personal attentions than were convenient for him to receive while in the discharge of his official duties. He would often find himself in the midst of a surging mass that swayed to and fro on the floor of the hall. Then rearing his baton aloft when the crowd seemed to be honoring him with more than usual attentions, he would intimate that any undue familiarity would be regarded as about the same thing as an assault upon the Commonwealth. Now would be seen a simultaneous movement that seemed directed by a common impulse to a certain definite object - that object being to see how few times the conspicuous figure holding the baton of authority could touch his feet to the floor on his way from the spot where he then stood to the opposite side of the hall. This movement was as irresistible as the tides of the sea. Frantically struggling to resist the current that bore him onward, and looking very red in the face, his efforts to keep his equilibrium resembled the movement known among boys when bathing as "treading water." He would finally land somewhere, and turning fiercely round would look unutterable things, as though about to vindicate the insulted majesty of the law on the spot. Then somebody would break into a "guffaw," in which the crowd joined. Finally some wag would make a remark that would be foo much even for the gravity of the constable. The severity of his countenance would relax, and he would join in the general laughter, after having first preserved his official dignity by rapping a boy on the head. It was an amusing study to see how gracefully and timely he would yield to the pressure of opposing forces as the sovereign people, taking an enlarged view of their palladium on the day when called upon to exercise the highest prerogative of freemen, would assert their right of eminent domain.

     While the crowd was surging to and fro, various episodes would occur that would not have a direct bearing upon the voting that was going on. It was not safe for a man to be in the midst of this crowd with a white hat on - or rather the hat was not safe - especially if it was one of unusual dimensions, or of an ancient pattern. On the appearance of such a hat, at such a time, some one might be seen reaching a long arm over the shoulders of two or three in front, and by a well-directed blow with the palm of the hand drive the white hat aforesaid down over the eyes of the wearer. The suddenness with which such a one would look round, and the astonishment depicted on his countenance - after he had got his hat back far enough so you could see his countenance - would not be regarded with indifference by the spectators, but would rather suggest a comparison between the collapsed beaver and an accordeon.

     Now and then a candy boy would make an inquiry whether some one did n't want to buy a stick of candy. This was the genuine home-made molasses candy, and the sales of this never-failing adjunct of town meeting were looked forward to, and calculated upon, for many days in advance. Many ate molasses candy on town meeting day who probably never ate it on any other day of the year. Early in the morning some of these "merchant princes" in this traffic would be seen wending their way along with tin pans full of candy packed into each other, musing, doubtless, on the prospective profits of the day. They would be likely to be seen again along towards night seated in a retired spot with a pile of coppers - not nickel - in one of the tin pans, and engaged in a deep mathematical calculation whether these profits had been realized. A few small boys might have been seen looking on astounded at this display of riches, who imagined they had that day seen treasures that far outshone the "wealth of Ormus or of Ind." Some of our thrifty citizens, no doubt, laid the foundations of their fortunes selling candy on these election days.

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