Saturday, March 16, 2024. Good morning. (And happy birthday to my dear niece Lucy!)
The following entry may be of particular interest to anyone who has suffered through a meeting tyrannized by Robert’s Rules of Order. I have tried very hard to ensure that it’s also of interest to the rest of you. Rules intended to result in fair outcomes can be abused by those who are experts in their use, using them as a cudgel over those who are not. This can be true of any set of procedural rules, not just Mr. Robert’s. This is especially true in politics; the filibuster comes to mind. As do the events of November 4, 1893.
The other reason I am highlighting what should not be part of any story that seeks to enlighten and entertain (unless, perhaps, you were writing the biography of the eponymous Henry Martyn Robert, and even then): The joy the reporters took in taking that language and making it, almost, poetic. Certainly rhythmic. The proceedings read almost like a play-by-play of a baseball game. And who doesn’t like a baseball game? Or at least the rhythm of the writing it inspires. (Baseball fans will likely know this piece by the late, great A. Bartlett Giamatti.)
Anyway.
Where were we?
Here is a link to the home page to read past issues. I have shortened the summaries from previous posts.
• Saturday night, October 28: Mayor of Chicago Carter Harrison is assassinated. A process to succeed the mayor does not exist.
• October 29: Newspapers start promoting mayoral candidates.
• Monday, October 30: The World’s Fair closes. The City Council meets to prepare for the mayor’s funeral. The Chicago Tribune continues its vendetta against Governor Altgeld, who has his own vendetta against candidate Judge Gary.
• Tuesday, October 31: Newspapers and politicians plan for a fight over the mayor’s seat. Attorneys continue to look for a succession plan.
• Wednesday, November 1: Harrison’s funeral. Lawyers adopt a succession plan: Aldermen will elect a temporary mayor. A special election will be held in December.
• Thursday, November 2: Republican aldermen nominate George B. Swift. Alderman Epstean casts a blank ballot. Republicans call for a special meeting on Saturday at 11 am to vote for mayor pro tem.
• Friday, November 3. The Democrats nominate John McGillen, Chair of the Democratic Campaign Committee. Rumors abound of plans to throw the election to Mr. McGillen on Saturday.
• Saturday, November 4: The City Council meeting. The fight over the election of the Chair is fierce. Democratic nominee McGillen strong-arms his way to the position. George B. Swift asks Republicans to accept McGillen as Chair.
Saturday, November 4. Continued.
As I said last week, probably no more than half an hour had transpired between the start of the meeting at 11 a.m. and Swift's call for peace. But his Republican brethren weren’t so ready to acquiesce.
Alderman Hepburn, the Republican who had ostensibly been elected Chair by his party - had anyone recorded the votes, which they did not - was especially unprepared to cede his place. He refused to sit after McGillen had ordered everyone to do so. The Herald gave a play-by-play of the exchange between them:
“Take your seat, Hepburn,” shouted McGillen.
“I won’t. I have a right here. I will not take my seat,” he answered defiantly.
“I’ll not recognize you until you do. Take your seat,” again shouted McGillen.
“I won’t. You have had your say to your men, now let me say a word to my men.”
“Take your seat, Hepburn, or I will have the sergeant-at-arms seat you,” shouted back McGillen.
“I have a right to be heard,” persisted Hepburn.
“…I am chairman,” said McGillen. No further vote is necessary. I am a man who has sat often as the chairman of this body, a man who you all know is not addicted to unfairness. I will treat all fairly, one at a time now, and let us act like men. Everyone will be recognized in the order in which he asks recognition."
Republican Campbell stood to demand a roll call on the election of chairman. Republican Martin added that the body currently had no chairman.
“This body has a chairman and I am that official,” answered Alderman McGillen. “I refuse to allow a vote to be taken on the question. The records show that I am the regularly elected chairman of this meeting. There will be no vote."
Republican Kent next stood up to make a motion.
“A motion is not in order,” said the Chair.
After Kent, Republican Martin Madden stood up. McGillen recognized him. Madden moved that the election be conducted by roll call, with each member’s vote recorded as he was called.
McGillen moved the resolution out of order.
One might have wondered what McGillen WOULD consider in order, except remember that he needed a secret ballot to ensure the votes of the bribed Republicans. He was waiting for one of his lieutenants to step up and so move. The Republicans, for their part, were doing everything in their limited power to prevent that from happening. The Chicago Tribune reported that at one point, Republican Mann stated:
“I ask as a personal privilege that I be heard. I desire to record my protest,” [said] Mr. Mann.
“The Clerk will not record the protest,” said Ald. McGillen.
“Then I wish to make a public protest,” was the answer.
Ald. McGillen - The newspapers will record your protest.”
And so the newspapers did. At least the Tribune did.
Eventually (no, I am not putting you through each tit for tat, though it might seem that way), Democrat Arnold Tripp stood to offer a resolution to set the special election for Mayor for the third Tuesday in December.
Before a motion could be made to vote on Tripp’s resolution, and perhaps sensing that the Democrats now had their feet in the door, Madden stood to request a re-introduction of his resolution to hold the vote by roll call. McGillen ruled Madden’s resolution out of order—“and contrary to law” (not true). Neumeister was about to read Tripp’s resolution when Republican Kent tried to raise a point of order.
According to the Inter Ocean, the following exchange occurred:
“The point of order will not be recognized until the chair has his way,” arbitrarily answered McGillen, “and his way is to have the clerk read the resolution.”
Madden attempted to ask if the reading of the resolution was merely for information but McGillen would not listen to him. Hepburn pertinently asked:
“Is this the fairness the chair spoke of just now?”
Alderman Mann endeavored to speak, and McGillen ordered the sergeant-at-arms to place him in his seat. The sergeant-at-arms disobeyed the order. The clerk again began to read, when Kent asked if he were through.
“The clerk is not through,” shouted McGillen, taking the resolution from Neumeister, “and the chair will act as clerk and read the resolution.”
McGillen then ignored his own instructions and handed Tripp’s resolution to Neumeister. The clerk read the resolution: That they proceed to the vote, which would be conducted by secret ballot. The Chair was to appoint three members of the Council as tellers. (Tellers counted the votes and certified the ballots as valid.)
Several Republicans stood to protest. McGillen once again recognized Democrat Tripp. According to the Tribune, he said this in support of his resolution:
“The law, unquestionably, is that the Mayor pro tem must be elected by ballot. This does not mean the calling of the roll or the answering of the members to the call and indicating their preference by their vote. This means a secret ballot - the depositing of the slip of paper by each member of the Council in a receptacle.”
Republican Mann rose again and was recognized this time. He pointed out that there “is nothing in the law that contemplates and provides for any secret ballot.”
This was true. There was nothing secret about voting in Chicago in 1893. Chicago’s voting laws at that time called for citizens to bring their ballots to polling places. The ballots were partisan; a voter registered as a Republican used a ballot with the Republican ticket printed on it. These ballots were either sent to them by party officials or clipped from the partisan paper of their choice.
For example, in the Spring of 1893, the Inter Ocean printed the ticket that Republican voters were to bring with them to the polls to compare against the ballots that had either been sent to them or would be handed to them at the polls.
If they did not bring one to the polling place, it was provided by “helpful” ward heelers and other party workers. The voter brought his ballot to the window representing his party, where a judge received it. If the judge certified it valid, he then handed it to a teller who deposited the ballot in a ballot box. There was nothing secret about it at any point in the process. This also meant many opportunities for a ballot to be tampered with.
In 1895, Chicago would be one of the last municipalities in the country to adopt the “Australian ballot,” which was secret. All the nominees for all parties were printed on one ballot, which was issued at the polling place. The voter then took their ballot to a voting booth…and you know the rest.
In any case, Mann’s remonstrations were, of course, ignored. McGillen once again ordered the sergeant-at-arms to escort Mann back to his seat. (The sergeant, being a Republican, again ignored the instruction.)
Once more, Republicans were in an uproar. What assurance did they have that McGillen would allow the election to be conducted fairly? And so forth.
It was Swift who once again urged Republicans to accept the reality of the situation.
Ald. Swift called across to Ald. Madden: “Let it go. ’Tis no use arguing with the Chairman or appealing from his decision. Let us pass Tripp’s resolution.”
(Somehow, I am only now wondering if Taylor Swift descends from George B.)
Republican Kent amended Tripp’s resolution to add one more teller and required the Chair to appoint two Democrats and two Republicans. McGillen already had what he wanted, so he agreed to put the amendment to a vote. It passed unanimously.
Finally, the procedures had been adopted. The nominations, followed by the election, were next on the agenda. I don’t think we have the stamina to continue this story today so I will continue next week.
Rabbit Hole Fun
Chin Wag - podcast by Paul Giamatti and professor and philosopher Stephen Asma
The History of the Secret Ballot - Wikipedia
The Australian Ballot - Brittanica.com
As a Robert’s Rules nerd, I throughly enjoyed this post! I wonder if you know whether it was common to have city legal staff present at these meetings? At our small city’s council meetings the city attorney usually serves as parliamentarian but smaller surrounding municipalities rarely have someone in that role (since they often contract for legal services).
This scenario of Robert's Rules of NO order reminds me of Adam Schiff vs. Jim Jordan. GB is Jaime Raskin providing wise counsel to calm down the ferocious tigers.
Lydia Bornick