From the May 5, 1972 edition of the Vineyard Gazette by Doris Vincent Norton:
In all New England towns the annual town meeting is a very democratic and individual institution. In no town, I believe, is this more pronounced than in the township of Gosnold, which comprises the chain of Elizabeth Islands. Nearest to the mainland is Naushon, owned by the Forbes family, next Pasque Island, formerly owned by James Crosby Brown, now belonging to the Forbes family, as is Nashawena Island. Penikese was once used as a leper colony, but is now a state game preserve. Cuttyhunk, the last link in the chain, has the largest population and there are found the town hall, school, library and church.
In the years between 1919 and 1939, when I lived on Pasque Island, there were 42 voters. Of these three were from Naushon, each one a naturalized citizen, and proud of his right and privilege to vote. My husband and I were the two voters from Pasque. Usually there were only one from Nashawena, two from Penikese, in all eight very important votes.
It was by no means strange that islanders looked forward to spring, and the first event in spring was the annual town meeting, held early in March. I think boredom contributed to the quarrels and feuds that sprang to life about that time.
There was a definite two party system, not Democratic or Republican, but the Church and Bosworth parties, headed by Mr. Charles Church and Capt. David Bosworth. Of course the election of a selectman was the main event, but if neither Mr. Church nor Capt. Bosworth was up for re-election that particular year, it was still necessary to have other favorable members. The town was well managed, taxes were low, with either party in power. I leaned toward the Bosworth Party, one of my reasons being the fact that Capt. Bosworth was more of a true islander, having spent his whole life there, whereas Mr. Church spent winters in Boston.
Then came the day of the meeting. No matter what the weather, a boat came to get the down-islanders.
The meeting was carried on in an orderly but informal manner. At first there was a roll call, each voter signifying by voice that he was present. Ballot boxes were used for election of officers, and the last piece of business was articles in the warrant, by voice vote. Three hours usually sufficed to complete the meeting.
There were always amusing incidents. One year the contest promised to be extremely close, and a young man who had just reached his 21st birthday was desirous of voting. The parents of this man had moved to New Bedford some years previous but Winslow, always nicknamed Coot, had stayed on the island at his grandfather’s. We all know the circumstances, and knew that the island was his real home. There was opposition, and even to the time of the roll call I believe Coot had doubts as to whether or not his name would be on the voting list. Mr. Church was on the platform, calling the names in alphabetical order. The list went on, passing the letter H. In a second Coot was on his feet, with fire in his eyes.
Mr. Church, not bothering to glance up from his papers, answered in a rather bored tone, “Sit down, Coot. I’ll get to you.” After going through the entire list he called, “I. Winslow Hall.” When Coot answered that he was present it brought out a hilarious uproar.
I well remember another incident. A vote was to be taken on some county measure. An island woman was much opposed, believing that the town would be taxed for something from which it could receive no benefit. She made a very fervent speech, and at last became a bit carried away with her unusual effort. “We people from these insulated islands deserve to be heard,” she concluded.
Well, as far as being insulated, we could have stood a bit of it on our six-mile boat trip that morning, and a little might have been useful with the hot tempers in evidence just before the meeting began.
Each year we down-Islanders had several invitations for lunch. It made no difference for whom we had voted. I have never known such hospitality as was shown by the Cuttyhunk people. After the votes were counted the whole election was forgotten and there was friendship and good will among everyone for the next ten months.
In 1939 I voted at Cuttyhunk for the last time. We had moved from Pasque Island to the mainland about a month before town meeting, and when some of our island friends asked us to go down for the meeting we quickly decided to go. It was legal, since we had registered in no other town.
We went to New Bedford, and had a rough trip across the Bay in the mail boat Alert. We voted for our good friends once more, and again the contest was decided by just two votes.
Never again will elections and town meetings be so personal, or so thrilling. There is only one island like Cuttyhunk, and few people are privileged to vote there and to really know the people who live there.
Compiled by Hilary Wallcox
library@vineyardgazette.com
This article appears in May 8, 2026.