A new campaign was at hand. Chamberlain's name was heard as leader of a new compromise ticket. He had performed services that seemed inspired by genuine regard for the old State and pride in her history. He was instrumental in having the Washington Light Infantry, of Charleston, at Bunker Hill Centennial, and bringing the Old Guard, of New York, and the Boston Light Infantry to Fort Moultrie's Centennial, when he presented a flag to the Washington Light Infantry and made a speech that pleased Carolinians mightily. He and Hampton spoke from the same platform and sat at the same banquet. He was alive to South Carolina's interest at the Centennial in Philadelphia. The State began to honour him in invitations to make addresses at college commencements and on other public occasions. A Democratic Convention in May came near nominating him. Another met in August. Between these he shook confidence in his sincerity. Yet men from the low country said: "Let's nominate him. He has tried to give honest government." Men from the up country: "He can not rule his party, his party may rule him." Men from the low country: "We cannot elect a straight ticket." Men from the up country: "We have voted compromise tickets the last time. We are not going to the polls unless we have a straight, clean white ticket." They sent for Hampton and nominated him. His campaign reads like a tale of the old Crusades. To his side came his men of war, General Butler, General Gary and Colonel Haskell. At his name the people lifted up their hearts in hope. Governor Chamberlain had denounced the rascalities of Elliott, Whipper's election in the list. He was nominated by the Blacks and Tans, on a ticket with R. H. Cleaves, mulatto; F. L. Cardoza, mulatto; Attorney General R. B. Elliott, black, etc. He walked into the convention arm in arm with Elliott. Soon he was calling for Federal troops to control elections, charging all racial disorders to whites; ruling harsh judgments against Red Shirts and Rifle Clubs; classing the Washington Light Infantry among disorderly bodies, though he had been worthily proud of this company when it held the place of honour in the Bunker Hill parade and, cheered to the echo, marched through Boston, carrying the battle-flag of Colonel William Washington of the Revolution. That was a picturesque campaign, when every county had its "Hampton Day," and the Red Shirts rode, and ladies and children raised arches of bloom and scattered flowers in front of the old cavalry captain's curvetting steed. Barbecues were spread for coloured brethren, and engaging speakers tried to amuse, instruct and interest them.