Transcribed by Gina Cappello, from files of the Allegany County Historian.
Allegany County Democrat, January 5, 1877.
The Agony Over
The world has again commenced turning on its axis; Cuba oil has found a market, while Angelica leeks are a drug. The suspense, the agony, the overwhelming pain is over. The Republic is saved. Freedom’s bird chirrups its roundelay, and—
E. A. Bartlett, long may he wave,
O’er the land of our Swift
The bright boy of the brave.
Bartlett has been appointed post master of Cuba; his services to Hungerford have been rewarded, and the political kingly crown no longer adorns the brow of Richardson, neither does he retain in his grasp the Damascus blade which he has so long used with such deadly results upon his adversaries.
The fight has terminated; Richardson has been beaten, and the bones of the slain lie strewn upon the soil of every school district from Angelica to Rushford, and there they will lie until the next county convention.
Hungerford belongs to the “Belmont Ring” and that faction will now build up its ruined fortunes by aid of the appointing power. Until further notice the Republican Political Mogul, is H. J. Swift, of Cuba. To him belongs the paint and feathers, the crown, the scepter, and the scimitar. Upon the throne he sits with all the royal prerogatives. To him must bow, in meek submission, the Richardsons, the Rutherfords, the Dotys, the Angels, and all that line of nobles who belong to the house of Angelica.
Swift has flashed along the political pathway like a brilliant comet in the sidereal heavens, startling the beholder with wonder and we, bordering upon the supernatural. He came, he saw, he conquered. He has fed upon the meat of Caesar. Aspirants for office, look upon your master. Master, look upon the post offices.
The House of Angelica is in mourning.
The inmates
“Feel like one who treads alone
Some banquet hall deserted;
Whose lights are fled
Whose hopes are dead
And all but life departed.”
The great issue has been decided. Richardson will control no post office appointments if Hayes is inaugurated. All power is in Swift. He has made a gallant fight for power, and won—
“The Cuban came down like the wolf on the fold
His cohorts all gleaming in purple and gold,
And the gleam of his spears shone like stars on the sea
When the blue waves roll nightly on deep Genesee.”
The “Belmont Ring” are chanting a Te Deum! Hail! to the Thane of Cuba! All hail, Swift, the Cock of the Walk!