“Capt. Sweargen! Capt. Sweargen!” said Mann Harris, “As yo’ are the Captain of this killin’, I will ask yo’ to save my life.”
“You hush; yo’ talk too much, you great big nigger you,” said one of the crowd.
“I’m gwoine to talk. It’s life or death for me, an’ I’m gwoine to talk for my life.”
“Captain! Captain! Oh, don’t let them kill me!” said Sam Henry. “I’ve allus been a industrious and honest fellow, and ha’n’t never hurt nobody, nor stole, nor nothin’.”
“Yes, but you’re a blamed Republican, and so is all the rest of yo’, and that’s enough. We’ll carry South Carolina Democratic now, about the time we kill four or five hundred of yo’ voting niggers. This is only the beginning of it. We’ve got to have South Carolina, and these clubs has got to go through the State.”
“Yes,” added another, “the white man has got to rule here. This is a white man’s government.”
The excitement was again increasing, and all talked at once on this topic, on which alone all seemed to agree.
“Now, men, we’ve got this court-martial, and must proceed according to military law,” shouted Captain S.
“There a’n’t no law,” cried a voice. “The law has run out at the end of a hundred years, and there a’n’t no constitution neither.”