The County Election
George Caleb Bingham
The County Election painting depicts the American democratic system in progress. The story takes place in a small Midwestern town in the mid-19th century (1840s perhaps), when the rituals of voting were still taking shape, particularly on the frontier (western states). The painter, George Caleb Bingham, recognized the responsibilities as well as the rights of citizenship. In The County Election, Bingham presents a raucous voting party as an enactment of democracy, bringing together a variety of residents in a rural community to make decisions for the common good.
In this crowded composition, Bingham suggests the inclusiveness of a democracy with representatives of every age and social stratum – except, of course, African Americans, who would not enjoy the right to vote until after the Civil War, and women, whose right to participate would not be recognized for another 70 years. The painting reveals other irregularities in the electoral system that would not be tolerated today. Because there was no system of voter registration, the man in red at the top of the courthouse steps swears on the Bible that he hasn’t already cast a vote. Because there was no secret (or even paper) ballot, a voter calls out his choice to the election clerks behind the judge, who openly record it in a ledger. Because there were no restrictions on electioneering at the polls, the well-dressed gentleman behind the voter – evidently one of the candidates - is free to hand his card to citizens just before they cast their vote. Yet none of this appears to dull the spirit of the voting process.
The lack of a single dramatic focus in The County Election is an expression of the democratic ideal – all men appear as equals, with no one vote valued more than another. Several members of the electorate engage in serious discussion, perhaps debating the candidates’ qualifications. Another group clusters around a newspaper, a potent tool of democracy. Nevertheless, Bingham seems to question the integrity of an election conducted so casually. In the left foreground, a portly man already sprawled in his chair accepted more hard cider from an African American precinct worker, presumably in exchange for a vote. Behind him, a well-to-do gentleman literally drags a slumping body to the polls as he casts a meaningful glance toward the candidate in blue. A figure beside the courthouse steps (directly below the man giving an oath) tosses a coin, as though the winner of this contest might as well be determined by luck (or money) as by an orderly election; and in the foreground, the actions of two boys, absorbed in a childhood pastime, in which a knife thrown from the ground determines the winner, suggest that the political process is a little more than a game of chance. More ominously, a tattered figure in the front right corner hangs his bandaged head, perhaps to imply that for all the apparent goodwill of the crowd, violence lies just beneath the surface.
In this crowded composition, Bingham suggests the inclusiveness of a democracy with representatives of every age and social stratum – except, of course, African Americans, who would not enjoy the right to vote until after the Civil War, and women, whose right to participate would not be recognized for another 70 years. The painting reveals other irregularities in the electoral system that would not be tolerated today. Because there was no system of voter registration, the man in red at the top of the courthouse steps swears on the Bible that he hasn’t already cast a vote. Because there was no secret (or even paper) ballot, a voter calls out his choice to the election clerks behind the judge, who openly record it in a ledger. Because there were no restrictions on electioneering at the polls, the well-dressed gentleman behind the voter – evidently one of the candidates - is free to hand his card to citizens just before they cast their vote. Yet none of this appears to dull the spirit of the voting process.
The lack of a single dramatic focus in The County Election is an expression of the democratic ideal – all men appear as equals, with no one vote valued more than another. Several members of the electorate engage in serious discussion, perhaps debating the candidates’ qualifications. Another group clusters around a newspaper, a potent tool of democracy. Nevertheless, Bingham seems to question the integrity of an election conducted so casually. In the left foreground, a portly man already sprawled in his chair accepted more hard cider from an African American precinct worker, presumably in exchange for a vote. Behind him, a well-to-do gentleman literally drags a slumping body to the polls as he casts a meaningful glance toward the candidate in blue. A figure beside the courthouse steps (directly below the man giving an oath) tosses a coin, as though the winner of this contest might as well be determined by luck (or money) as by an orderly election; and in the foreground, the actions of two boys, absorbed in a childhood pastime, in which a knife thrown from the ground determines the winner, suggest that the political process is a little more than a game of chance. More ominously, a tattered figure in the front right corner hangs his bandaged head, perhaps to imply that for all the apparent goodwill of the crowd, violence lies just beneath the surface.