What if N.C. farmers chose opium poppies instead of tobacco?

This what if began with a question found in the December 6, 1877 edition of The Farmer and Mechanic, a weekly paper published in Raleigh. Dr. W. Haw, an “analytical chemist” of Oswego, N.Y., wanted to know whether the poppy species that yields opium could be planted in the South.

I resided a long time in the East Indies, and cultivated opium near Patva, and I should think the Southern States favorable therefor (sic). I should like to engage in the business, if possible. The question is—is the opium of the South strong enough, has it proper medical qualifications, and is the yield favorable.

A search of subsequent editions of The Farmer and Mechanic yielded no answer to Haw’s inquiry. The question remained. These days North Carolina is home to numerous experiments with “specialty crops.” Tar Heels are growing truffles, hops, edamame and wasabi. Did anyone ever try growing papiver somniferum, the Latin name for the poppy species that yields opium and its medicinal derivatives as well as the seeds that coat a popular type of bagel?

A search of the North Carolina Collection stacks produced a paper written by Thomas Williams Kendrick to fulfill requirements toward his graduate degree in pharmacy from UNC in 1899. His paper, with the simple title “Opium,” details the history of opium use and poppy cultivation through time, leading the reader through Moghul India, royal courts in Europe and 19th-century China. Kendrick, who, upon leaving UNC, worked as a pharmacist in the southwest Piedmont of N.C., then notes:

During the last two years of the Civil War, R.W. Price, M.D. (Cleveland County, N.C.) cultivated the poppy and gathered enough to supply the needs of his patients until some time after the close of the war. He considered the opium superior to that obtained from the markets. The drug was collected in the usual way by making several incisions in the capsule and collecting the concrete juice on the following morning.

Kendrick offers no other details on Price or his poppy cultivation. He attributes the information to correspondence with someone in Grover, N.C., a town in Cleveland County, in November 1898. A search of Cleveland County histories and records suggests that the Price to whom Kendrick referred may have in fact been Reynolds Bascomb Price (that’s R.B. Price, rather than R.W. Price), a man born in 1826 who practiced as a physician in Grover for many years. Price was an 1844 graduate of Davidson College and died in 1907. But, alas, he appears to have left no account of his life, particularly his experiments with poppy cultivation and opium production.

Kendrick also cites information from Resources of the southern fields and forests, medical, economical, and agricultural, a volume by Francis Peyre Porcher, a South Carolina physician. Porcher taught at the Medical College of South Carolina for many years during the second half of the 19th century. At the outbreak of the Civil War, he joined the Confederate Army as a surgeon and served mostly at hospitals in Norfolk and Petersburg, Virginia. Midway through his Confederate service, Porcher was released from his hospital duties to work on a handbook about local plants with therapeutic qualities that could be used by Confederate doctors as well as Southern planters and farmers in place of manufactured drugs that were unobtainable because of the Union blockade. Resources of the southern fields and forests,…. was initially published in 1863 and subsequently republished several times because of its valuable information.

Porcher devotes 5 1/2 pages to papaver somniferum. He quotes from several European authors describing poppy cultivation as well as a U.S. Patent Office report for 1855, which notes that cultivation of poppies for opium is “an object worthy of public encouragement, as the annual amount of opium imported into the United States is valued at upward of $407,000.” Porcher writes that his own experiments on “specimens of the red poppy found growing in a garden near Stateburgh, S.C.” yielded more than “an ounce of gum opium, apparently of very excellent quality, having all the smell and taste of opium (which I have administered to the sick)….” He adds:

I have little doubt that all we required could be gathered by ladies and children within the Confederate States, if only the slightest attention was paid to cultivating the plants in our gardens. It thrives well, and bears abundantly. It is not generally known that the gum which hardens after incising the capsules is then ready for use, and may be prescribed as gum opium, or laudanum and paregoric may be made from it, with alcohol or whisky.

Some 40 years after Porcher’s experiments, Edward Vernon Howell began cultivating poppies. Howell was a Raleigh native whom UNC president Edwin A. Alderman hired in 1897 to revive the moribund School of Pharmacy at the University. During his 30 year association with the pharmacy school, he spearheaded its growth from a program with 17 students and one professor (Howell himself) to a professional school with 148 students occupying an entire classroom building, now known as Howell Hall, in his honor.

Howell was active in state and national professional organizations. And he discussed his research on poppies and opium production at several meetings of the American Pharmaceutical Association. The proceedings of the 1908 annual meeting of the American Pharmaceutical Association report:

Mr. Howell, of North Carolina, said he was particularly interested in opium at one time—that most everybody has an ‘opium spell’ at one time or another. He had between five and ten thousand poppy-plants in cultivation last year, and he got opium running 6 per cent, of morphine. The young plants he ate with mayonnaise dressing, ‘and they were all right!’ He described a number of personal experiences, some of them rather amusing, along this line. Most of his efforts came to nothing.

Howell formally shared his research in an article in the June 1925 issue of the Journal of the American Pharmaceutical Association. He writes that poppies are well-suited to North Carolina. “To successfully plant and harvest an acre of poppies would be no more tedious, for instance, than to complete an acre of tobacco,” Howell suggests. He records various efforts to produce opium from the plants.

Every possible effort to express, crush, or extract the juice after crushing and thus obtain opium, avoiding the tedious and expensive labor of bleeding the capsules, was tried without success. The addition of ferments and the use of oxidizing agents was fruitless. Nature’s mystic method, retaliation for man’s wounding the plant, was the only way I found of producing opium—scarifying with knives padded to incise very slightly, a white milk juice exudes, which remaining on the capsule hardens and turns brown; this can be scraped off after twenty-four hours. In this time twelve to eighteen alkaloids and an acid or two are developed by the plant.

Howell considers poppy cultivation not just for the production of opium, but also for potential revenue from poppyseed oil.

In the study of the uses and abuses of plants, we see this useful plant—furnishing the best of drying oils, one that has preserved for us, in the realm of art, the wonderful work of master painters—stung, by the inhumanity of man, to the production of morphine. The subsequent introduction of the evils of our opium situation is strictly the work of man. That opium can be produced in North Carolina is certain; that also the seed will mature after incising the capsules has been demonstrated. Just what is the effect on the oil content of the seed, after bleeding, I haven’t had time to ascertain.

Howell proceeds to describe planting methods that will yield the highest number of poppy seeds. European seed, he writes, sells for 10 cents per pound. At such a price, Howell suggests, Tar Heel farmers could earn from $45 to $175 per acre.

Howell concludes his paper by restating papiver somniferum‘s potential value to North Carolina both for the production of opium and for poppyseed.

Lest you conclude that it’s worth planting papiver somniferum in your yard or field, you should know that the Opium Poppy Control Act of 1942 makes it a crime to “produce or attempt to produce the opium poppy, or to permit the production of the opium poppy.” Botany writer Michael Pollan conducted his own experiment and offers words of warning. And for those who’ve noticed poppies growing in highway medians across the state, as the N.C. Department of Transportation is careful to point out, those poppies are a different species and don’t produce opium.

McCrory took oath of office on one of state’s oldest Bibles

Durant Bible, open
The stack of Bibles on which Governor Pat McCrory took the oath of office earlier today included one believed to be the oldest associated with a North Carolina family in the state. The Durant Bible, as the volume is commonly known, was with George Durant, a 25-year-old Englishman, when he arrived on American shores about 1658. The volume was passed down through generations of Durant’s descendants before it was donated to the North Carolina Historical Society, the predecessor to the North Carolina Collection, in the mid-1800s.

McCrory’s use of the Durant Bible marks the third time the volume has been used for an official function in the past 25 years. In 1988 Paul Hardin III was sworn in as chancellor of the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill with his left hand placed on the volume. Hardin’s successor, Michael Hooker, also used the Durant Bible during his installation in 1995.

Little is known of the early history of the Durant Bible. Its provenance is derived mostly from the biography of George Durant and the few pages of births and dates listed within the volume. George Durant settled first in an area now known as the Northern Neck of Virginia. From there he moved south into Virginia’s Tidewater region. By 1661 Durant was married and had bought land from the Indians in what is now Perquimans County. He built a plantation near the Albemarle Sound in an area now known as Durants Neck. Although Durant identified himself as a mariner, he appears to have spent most of his time developing his plantation and participating in the region’s government. Durant’s first wife, Ann Marwood Durant, also helped run the plantation and lead other of her husband’s business interests. Her occasional representation of George Durant in court earned her a place in North Carolina’s history as the first woman known to act as an attorney in North Carolina courts.

The Bible passed through the Durant family until the mid-1700s when it reached Mary Durant, George’s great-granddaughter. Mary married Christian Reed, whose father, William, served briefly as governor of the colony. Mary Reed’s descendants held onto the Bible until sometime between 1844 and 1851, when Rebekah Reed, who lived in Perquimans County, donated it to North Carolina Historical Society.

During its 414-year history, the Durant Bible has suffered some wear and tear. Some pages are missing from the volume and others are torn or stained.In 1995 Wilson Library’s conservator spent more than 100 hours cleaning the Bible and repairing the binding and some of the damaged pages. The volume, bound in leather (likely its second binding) is 6 inches wide and 8 1/2 inches high. The Bible is about 3 inches thick.
Durant Bible, cover

This morning the Durant Bible was driven and carried by hand to the old House chambers of the state Capitol building in the specially-made box in which it is stored. After the swearing-in, the Bible was returned to one of Wilson Library’s vaults. It awaits its next call to duty, or, just as importantly, your request for a viewing.

Jesse Helms on Compromise in Politics–Don’t Do It!

A reference request today led me to this editorial that Jesse Helms penned for the January 1959 issue of the Tar Heel Banker. The magazine was a monthly publication from the North Carolina Bankers Association. Helms served as executive director of the group for much of the 1950s and, in that capacity, also served as editor of the publication. Some of the lines from this Helms editorial, titled “Compromise into Oblivion” are often quoted. But the full context and source are rarely cited.

As Congress and the President renew their efforts to avert the “fiscal cliff,” let’s hope compromise is little more appealing than Helms suggests.

If you happen to be a devotee of U.S. Senator Hubert Humphrey, you’ll just have to forgive us. We want no part of the Humphrey way of doing things, and, frankly, all this recent effort to picture the Minnesota Senator as some sort of international statesman gives us a pain.

We’ll acknowledge one thing about the man and then we’ll retreat no further. He is a talking machine of considerable persistence and energy. But any citizen entertaining the barest idea that the Senator has any strong leanings towards free enterprise, anti-socialism or fundamental Constitutional government had better beware.

There is one valuable lesson to learn from observing Senator Humphrey’s record, however. And it is a lesson that today’s faint-hearted leaders in the so-called right wing might well study. The lesson: don’t give up just because you’re in the minority.

When Humphrey went to the Senate in 1948, he was in the minority. Not only that, he was considered by his fellow Senators to be a sort of eloquent joke. But Humphrey wasn’t joking. He was a left-winger and he didn’t mind playing the role. He talked and he screamed; he raved and he ranted. Though his fellow Senators chalked him up as a publicity-seeking ineffectuality—which he was—Humphrey was betting that the trend was moving his way. It was.

So, today Senator Humphrey has achieved a degree of success that not even he expected ten years ago. His plea for bigger, more powerful government has been answered. His so-called civil rights program has been thrust, almost entirely, upon the South. The liberals are in the saddle everywhere and complete socialism is just around the corner.

Sounds pretty bad, doesn’t it? But if you doubt it, just look around you. Measure the prospects for 1959 and the years beyond. Point if you can to the slightest glimmer of hope for those who believe in less government control, less government expenditures, less taxation.

But even these are not the worst signs of the times. Worse than the trend itself is the attitude of those holding public office who privately do not like or agree with the trend. But are they doing anything about it? Don’t be silly!

The only men in a position to do something about it are faint-hearted!

At a time when this nation needs men of courage, what do we hear? We hear statements that the South “may be able to compromise” with those who would destroy the very fundamentals that made this country great.

Compromise, hell! That’s what has happened to us all down the line—and that’s the very cause of our woes. If freedom is right and tyranny is wrong, why should those who believe in freedom treat it as if it were a roll of bologna to be bartered a slice at the time?

There are worse things in this world than to be in the minority. Indeed, the majority may be a myth feeding on the timidity of those who mistakenly believe they are in the minority.

Hubert Humphrey was not afraid of being in the minority ten years ago. Today he is trotting secrets between Kruschev and Eisenhower. Tomorrow he may be president.

All he needs is a few more compromises. Given them, he has the persistence and energy to talk his way into the White House.

North Carolina’s faithless elector in 1968

Clip from December 17, 1968 News and Observer
Following the Constitutional mandate that they gather on the first Monday after the second Wednesday of the month, the state’s 15 electors met at the old state Capitol building earlier today and cast their votes. The outcome of their balloting was as expected. Reflecting the Republican ticket’s victory in the popular vote here, the electors unanimously backed Mitt Romney for President and Paul Ryan for vice president.

Although tradition holds that North Carolina electors select the slate that won the popular vote, there is no law requiring them to do so. Lloyd W. Bailey made that point clear—and earned the title of faithless elector—on December 16, 1968 when he voted for the American Independent Party slate of George Wallace and Curtis LeMay. The Republican ticket of Richard Nixon and Spiro Agnew won the state’s popular vote in November. But Bailey, a Rocky Mount ophthalmologist and John Birch Society member, told his fellow electors that he believed Nixon would not produce change in Washington. He defended his stance further by noting that some Nixon appointees are “members of the un-American and infamous Council on Foreign Relations.” Bailey cited Henry Kissinger, diplomats Henry Cabot Lodge Jr. and Robert D. Murphy, and economist Paul W. McCracken as members of the group. “This organization, called The Invisible Government by Dan Smoot in his book by this title, is one which seeks to undermine our national sovereignty and merge us with the other nations under a world government, perhaps like the United Nations,” he said. Bailey also pointed out that the Wallace-LeMay ticket had carried the district he represented.

Bailey’s protest vote is one of several facts that distinguish the 1968 electoral college gathering in North Carolina. The meeting was the first for Republican electors in 40 years. And, as reported in Dec. 17, 1968 edition of The News and Observer, the session was delayed for about 75 minutes by “the absence of anyone acquainted with the procedures involved, the absence of a judge to administer the electors’ oaths and by an error in the minutes, which had been prepared in advance.”

State GOP chairman Jim Holshouser, who, in 1972, would become the first Republican elected governor of N.C. in the 20th century, served as the temporary chairman of the meeting. Electors should have received instruction in the process from Secretary of State Thad Eure, but he was sick with the flu. Holshouser enlisted Chief Judge Raymond Mallard of the N.C. Court of Appeals to administer the oath. Twelve of the 13 electors placed their hands on a single Bible brought by Mallard and took the oath. The 13th elector, Mrs. R. Curtis Ratliff, was a stand-in for her husband, who, as clerk of Buncombe County Superior Court, stood to violate a state law prohibiting double office holding if he voted as an elector. The meeting’s minutes required altering because they had been prepared in advance by the state Attorney General’s office on the assumption that all electors would vote for Nixon and Agnew.

At the conclusion of the much-delayed session, the vote tally of 12 for Nixon-Agnew and 1 for Wallace-LeMay was sealed and sent to Washington, D.C., where it was tabulated by Congress on January 6.

Celebrating Hanukkah among Tar Heel Christians

Hannukah, the Jewish festival of lights, offered pale competition for Christmas—puny candles against a dazzling tree, ‘Rock of Ages’ against the tyranny of carols and decorations that took over the stores, the radio, the schools, and the imagination of all my friends. Parents billed Hannukah as ‘better than Christmas,’ an unintentional error that placed a minor Jewish celebration beside Christianity on parade, like comparing sandlot baseball to the World Series. Hanukkah simply could never substitute—for one thing, it lasted eight days, and was almost always out of sync with Christmas, so you had to explain to your friends that you didn’t sneak and open your Christmas presents early, but that your holiday was different; and that could lead to a ‘You mean you don’t celebrate Christmas? Why not?’ So I usually played with my toys in secret until Christmas day. I would always save the gifts from my friends until Christmas morning because it didn’t seem right to open gentile gifts on a Jewish holiday and, besides, if I waited I’d have a real surprise to talk about in the afternoon when they came over to show off their stuff, rather than pretending that I had ripped open eight-day old toys that very morning….It didn’t make up for much when little Billy White said,’Gee, eight days of presents…I wish I was Jewish.’

-from Eli Evans’s The Provincials: A Personal History of Jews in the South. Evans was born and raised in Durham, the son of E.J. “Mutt” Evans, the mayor of Durham from 1950-1962.The younger Evans graduated from UNC-Chapel Hill in 1958 and Yale Law School in 1963. He worked as a speech writer on the staff of President Lyndon B. Johnson from 1964-1965. Evans served as a senior program officer for the Carnegie Corporation of New York from 1967-1977. In 1977 he joined the Charles H. Revson Foundation as president and remained in that position until his retirement in 2003. Evans’s personal papers are held by the Southern Historical Collection at Wilson Library.

North Carolina’s Bard of WWII: Randall Jarrell

Seen on the sea, no sign; no sign, no sign
In the black firs and terraces of hills
Ragged in mist. The cone narrows, snow
Glares from the bleak walls of a crater. No.
Again the houses jerk like paper, turn,
And the surf streams by: a port of toys
Is starred with its fires and faces; but no sign.

In the level light, over the fiery shores,
The plane circles stubbornly: the eyes distending
With hatred and misery and longing, stare
Over the blackening ocean for a corpse.
The fires are guttering; the dials fall,
A long dry shudder climbs along his spine,
His fingers tremble; but his hard unchanging stare
Moves unacceptingly: I have a friend.

The fires are grey; no star, no sign
Winks from the breathing darkness of the carrier
Where the pilot circles for his wingman; where,
Gliding above the cities’ shells, a stubborn eye
Among the embers of the nations, achingly
Tracing the circles of that worn, unchanging No
The lives’ long war, lost war—the pilot sleeps.

-“The Dead Wingman” from Randall Jarrell’s Losses, published in 1948.

On Pearl Harbor Day we remember the life and work of Jarrell, whose poetry was deeply influenced by World War II and his service in the U.S. Army Air Service. Although Jarrell aspired to be a pilot, he spent 1942-1946 as a celestial navigation tower operator, primarily in Arizona. The stories he heard from pilots and others inspired numerous poems, including his best-known, “The Death of the Ball-Turret Gunner,” published in his second volume of verse, Little Friend, Little Friend, in 1945.

From my mother’s sleep I fell into the State,
And I hunched in its belly till my wet fur froze.
Six miles from earth, loosed from its dream of life,
I woke to black flak and the nightmare fighters.
When I died they washed me out of the turret with a hose.

Upon leaving the Air Service, Jarrell, who had already received acclaim for his poetry, moved to New York City. He continued writing verse, thanks to a Guggenheim Fellowship, served as the book review editor for The Nation and taught at Sarah Lawrence College.

In 1947, Jarrell, who had quickly tired of New York, moved to Greensboro, where he taught in the English department at Women’s College (now UNC-Greensboro). With the exception of short teaching stints around the country and internationally, Jarrell remained at Women’s College for the next 18 years. He served as the nation’s Poet Laureate from 1956-1958. In 1961 he was awarded a National Book Award for his poetry volume The Woman at the Washington Zoo. And in 1962 Jarrell received the O. Max Gardner Award, one of the state’s highest honors.

Jarrell died on October 14, 1965, when he was struck by a car while walking at dusk along U.S. 15-501 near Chapel Hill. He had moved there to teach at the university a few months prior. In addition to poetry, Jarrell’s published works include children’s stories, essays, criticism and a single novel.

What Tar Heel Beats Connote North Carolina?

Welcome to Carolina screenshot
Here’s a question for you. What song would best serve as the state’s theme song?

That question came to mind this morning as I sampled the works produced by the Beat Making Lab at UNC-Chapel Hill (You can read about one of the Beat Making Lab’s projects in The News and Observer from December 2). A UNC student who uses the name Bunny Beatz.z.z. produced a short piece called “Welcome to Carolina.” With apologies to James Taylor fans (note: I realize that hip-hop is a far cry from the lilting vocals and skillful guitar licks of your idol), the song, particularly the words repeated by the female vocalist, remind me of “Carolina on My Mind.” And in my mind Taylor’s hit is emblematic of the Tar Heel state. Perhaps for a generation (or two or three) of North Carolinians, “Carolina On My Mind” serves as their state theme song. Admittedly UNC haters may think otherwise, since the song was long ago appropriated by boosters of the university in Chapel Hill.

So, share your thoughts. What songs connote North Carolina to you? Is it a Doc Watson tune? A beach music number by Durham-born Clyde McPhatter and the Drifters? Or the Piedmont blues of Blind Boy Fuller? Even Clay Aiken and Scotty McCreery are permissible. Just tell us your opinion.

Research Triangle Park offers first change in plans since 1959

Image from Master Plan for Research Triangle Park
Research Triangle Park leaders unveiled plans today to update “mom and dad’s research park.” The 68-page document lays out steps for denser development of the park and the creation of a wider range of amenities. The plan is a response to concerns that there is little land left for development in the 7,000 acre park and that RTP lacks restaurants, shops and other services for its employees. As the News and Observer reports, the update is the first change to the master plan since legislators approved the development of research park in 1959.

Edenton Celebrates 300 Years

Bayard Wootten postcard of courthouse in Edenton
Edenton kicks off its anniversary celebrations today at noon with the ringing of the Chowan County Courthouse bells 300 times. The town dates its beginning to the passage of an act in the colonial Assembly calling for “building a Court house to hold the Assembly in, at the fork of Queen Ann’s Creek commonly called Matchacamak Creek in Chowan precinct.” The settlement around that courthouse became known as Edenton in 1722, when the Assembly named it in honor of Charles Eden, the colony’s royal governor, who had died earlier that year.

19th-century election tickets from North Carolina

1896 Presidential ballot for NC
North Carolina Republican Party ticket for 1896 general election

While paper ballots haven’t gone the way of the Edsel, you’d be hard pressed to find ones like those used in North Carolina’s elections in the 19th century. As Douglas W. Jones, co-author of Broken Ballots: Will Your Vote Count notes in his “Brief Illustrated History of Voting”, the first paper ballots were slips provided by the voter himself. But little time passed before political parties provided voters with a pre-printed ticket listing their slate of candidates.

The pre-printed ballots provided the political parties with several controls over voting. As noted in a previous post, the parties sometimes printed their tickets on colored sheets of paper. Because voting often took place in the open, party loyalists, who traded cash for votes on election day, could watch to ensure that the voter they had just bribed upheld his end of the bargain by voting for the right slate. In time, supporters of clean elections pushed through regulations requiring all tickets be printed on white paper. But the new requirements did not curb the parties’ previous practices. They simply printed their tickets on paper with slightly different shades of white. The political parties also realized that through their choice of typography and spacing on their tickets they could reduce the likelihood of voters veering from the party slate and writing in a different choice.

Increasing concerns about election abuses in the 1870s and 1880s led reformers to push for private voting and the creation of an official, non-partisan ballot, commonly known as the Australian ballot because legislators in Australia had led the way by adopting a secret, official ballot in the 1850s. In the United States, Kentucky was the first state to adopt the Australian ballot, employing it in Louisville municipal elections in February 1888. Massachusetts followed three months later, requiring its use statewide. In the ensuing years, other states also required official ballots, in some cases only for local elections and, in others, for statewide races.

In North Carolina the first use of the Australian ballot was in New Hanover County. State legislators passed legislation requiring its use there in 1909. Twenty years passed before lawmakers mandated official ballots for elections throughout the state. In 1928 O. Max Gardner, a Democrat from Shelby, campaigned for governor on a pledge to implement the Australian ballot statewide. In his inaugural address on January 11, 1929, Gardner told citizens that he believed elections in North Carolina were “fair, honest, and just,” but “conditions may still be improved by the passage of a fair and just secret ballot law.” The first issue addressed by the General Assembly in 1929 was the secret ballot. Although some senators opposed the legislation for fear that it could reduce the strength of the Democratic party, the bill passed in the Senate 41 to 9. The margin was wider in the House, where lawmakers approved the secret ballot 92 to 14.

The party tickets above and below predate the Australian ballot. The 1896 Republican ticket (above) features line art of William McKinley (left) and his running mate, Garret Hobart. Of course, McKinley and Hobart prevailed in the election as did Daniel L. Russell, who became the first Republican elected governor of North Carolina since the end of Reconstruction in 1877. In the Presidential portion of the ticket note the listing of electors, a reminder that the electoral college actually determines the occupant of the White House.

The 1898 Republican judicial ticket (below) is a reminder that judicial elections were partisan until the 1990s. In 1996 the General Assembly established non-partisan elections for Superior Court judges, effective in 1998. In 2001 legislators passed a bill requiring non-partisan elections for District Court judges. And in 2002, lawmakers enacted legislation making elections for the state Court of Appeals and Supreme Court non-partisan.

Ballot for judicial elections in North Carolina in 1898
Ballot for judicial elections in North Carolina in 1898

It’s unclear whether the tickets pictured here were actual ballots or simply a list of candidates provided by the Republican Party. They are among items in the Walter Winbourne King Papers in our sister collection, the Southern Historical Collection. King (1846-1913) was a Stokes County attorney and politician. He was elected to the state House in 1876 and served there until he resigned in 1878 to become solicitor, known today as a district attorney, for the area serving Stokes County.

1870 Republican ballot for North Carolina
1870 Republican ticket, likely for Stokes County, N.C.