The night before an election the Democratic Club was in session at McClellanville when Mr. McClellan came in and said there would be trouble next day. He had heard on the river that negroes were buying up ammunition and were coming armed to the polls. He had gone to stores and given orders that sale should be stopped. Whites now tried to buy but found stock sold out. They collected available arms and ammunition in village and neighbourhood, and concealed these under a hay-wagon, which appeared next day near the polls, one of many of similar appearance. Squads were detailed for duty near polls and wagon. Blacks came armed, and, demurring, stacked muskets at the cross-roads which marked the hundred-yard limit prescribed by election ruling; all day they were in terrible humour. "I heard my own servants," Captain Pinckney tells, "between whom and myself the kindliest feelings had existed, say in threatening tones: 'We's here tuh stan' up fuh our rights. We ain' gwi leave dese polls. None our colour got tuh leave dese polls 'fo' dee close.'" Whites preserved a front of unconcern they were far from feeling. Seventy-five whites and 500 blacks voted at this precinct. Guns once in the hands of the blacks, and turned against this little handful of whites, God help all concerned! Whites had begun to hope the day would end smoothly, when a trifling incident seemed to precipitate conflict. Two drunken white men rode hallooing along the road. The negroes, taking this as a pretext for a fight, rushed for their muskets. An old trial justice, Mr. Leland, sprang on a box and called loudly: "Come here! Come here!" They looked back. "I am the Peace Officer!" he yelled. "Come, listen to me!" Threatening, curious, sullen, they came back some paces with an air of defiance, of determination suspended for the moment. "I don't like the looks of things," said the old trial justice, "and I am going to call on the most influential men in the community to act as my constabulary force and help me maintain order. Pinckney!" The gunboat desperado stepped forward. "Calhoun! De Saussure! Huger! Horry! Porcher! Gaillard!" So the wily old justice went on, calling names famous in the annals of South Carolina, and black men answered. "Line up there! Take the Oath of Office! Hold up your hands and swear that, so help you God, you will help me maintain the laws and preserve the peace and dignity of the State of South Carolina!" He happened to have in his pocket a dozen old badges of office, and swift as he swore the men in, he pinned badges on them. He made them a flighty, heroic little speech and the face of events was changed.