Somewhere among the mementos of my youth is a silk hat mark, Part 2 of 2

Posted by | May 24, 2013

We spent Sunday night before the case opened in studying it, and then Ewing said to me :

“Well, you have this case remarkably well in hand. This is the greatest opportunity of your life. You must conduct the proceedings on our side. You examine the witnesses, argue points as best you can. Gradually unlimber your best guns. There are some big lawyers opposed to you; they know all the tricks of the game. But Josh, our friend here (the other lawyer), who will help also without fee, will sit on one side of you and I on the other. Of course we shall suggest when necessary. We shall back you up with legal citations when you are pressed by the keen wits of the defense. This is the greatest opportunity in the life of a young lawyer. Use it!”

Generously, for the fame of the case went far and near, Ewing and his friend sat, the one at my right, the other on the left, during that terrible battle, a fight for a young man’s life, the struggle for the honor of an old and untarnished family name, which dragged its agonizing length over one fearful month, day by day, early and late. To my right and a little to my rear, in the felon’s place, sat my erstwhile playmate; on one side his haggard mother in somber black, and on the other sat a slender, sweetly sad-faced girl.

Again and again I felt from time to time her eyes as I drove her brother’s witnesses from cover, prodded with the merciless power of the law into his ugly past ; or with the keenest enthusiasm born of youth, urged by a deep sense of my new duty, pictured to the jury a fitting close to his terribly misspent, warped, though brief, career at the end of a rope attached to a murderer’s gibbet!

Again and again I could hear her heart throb; and now and again as the terrible days wore slowly on, I paused as that dear old mother struggled to suppress her sobs! But in all that time, when I had to look her way, the sweet, sad, face of the girl never lifted her eves to mine!

Once during the heat of debate one of the attorneys for the defense, half-drunken and unmindful of the decorum of the court room, called me a “D — liar.” The uncouth words were scarce articulate when my distant kinsman and associate in the case, as a flash of lightning, sprang to his feet and shot a terrific fist blow full in the face of the offender! Turning, he bowed with quiet dignity to the court, expressed regret for the necessity of the act, and asked his honor to fix against him a proper fine!

Finally the jury went out, and, after yet other painful hours, as the sun was going behind the distant Cumberlands, beyond the lovely valley, in dread silence the jury filed back into court.

“Guilty,” read the clerk. “Remand the prisoner to close confinement to await the judgment of the court,” said the judge in a strangely softened tone. The crowd began silently to leave the room ; the guards were hustling the prisoner toward the door; friends were shaking hands with me. The group about me parted, there she stood, those wonderful eyes full of pathos, agony, terror, afire with some strange light I do not yet understand, met mine! One brief instant! Then, slowly, she turned and passed for all time from my presence!

Somewhere among the mementos of my youth is a silk hat mark. Ere then, ere then, upon it, in the long, long ago, her deft fingers wove my initials!

from “Clan Ewing of Scotland, early history and contribution to America; sketches of some family pioneers and their times,” by Elbert William R. Ewing, A. M., LL. B., LL. D., COBDEN PUBLISHING CO., Ballston, Virginia, 1922

online at www.archive.org/stream/clanewingofscotl00ewin/clanewingofscotl00ewin_djvu.txt

Leave a Reply


− 7 = 1

Somewhere among the mementos of my youth is a silk hat mark, Part 1 of 2

Posted by | May 23, 2013

I began to practice as a young lawyer in an adjoining county and about sixty miles from George A. Ewing’s home. Up to that time I had never met him, nor did I know any of his immediate family. An older man, he was at the time a lawyer of wide reputation, and regarded as one of the best criminal lawyers in the State.

Before I had ever tried an important case I was appointed by the court to prosecute, as attorney for the state, a band of mountain desperadoes and alleged felons. Most of them, from the mountains of Kentucky, had crept over into my native Virginia valley and committed crimes, ranging from housebreaking to murder.

Some of the gang were in jail at the time of my commission. One, charged with a murder or more, the ”black sheep” of one of the good families of the valley, had been my boyhood friend, his sister a schoolmate, and . . . ; but I was a boy then! How I came to be thrust into the arduous and embarrassing position of prosecuting him and his co-criminals is a long story; too long for this book.

Wise County Virginia Courthouse

Wise County Virginia Courthouse. No date.

Suddenly, as I sat in court one morning, I found myself the sole attorney for the Commonwealth, facing a most able defense, composed of the best legal talent in that part of Virginia — for his people had ample fortune. Unversed in the technicalities of a criminal trial, confronted by about one hundred witnesses pro and con, the life of my boyhood companion in the balance, I was dazed, almost stupified.

I looked at the prisoner, his face was that of abandoned indifference; I looked at his splendid array of talent — they smiled indulgently. I turned toward the aged and broken mother. Tears burst from her sad eyes, and then I caught the tender, pleading eyes of his sister, my former classmate, and I was crushed! Many years have gone; many, many court scenes have intervened: I feel her eyes yet!

After what seemed the torture of an age. I sprang to my feet and made my first speech in court :

“May it please your honor, I cannot do it.”

I dropped into my chair; opposing counsel smiled and winked at each other; a woman sobbed, but for which there was awful silence. For a moment the judge swung around in his chair and gazed at the wall; then, facing me again, he said :

“Young man, I appreciate your situation; but you are now an officer of this court; an emergency confronts us. The court must require you to act.”

Pulling myself together, I asked that the case be passed until the next day. The request was granted.

I went to my office almost wild with despair, grief and the weight of the unsought responsibility. Suddenly I recalled having heard of George A. Ewing as a successful lawyer. Rushing out, I wired him :

“Have just been appointed to prosecute so and so. Have recently gone to the bar. For the sake of the Ewing name will you help me? No fee in sight.”

“No fee in sight,” truly, for the State paid the prosecutor the pitiful sum of $10!

He came on the night train; met me quietly at a hotel, and we fell upon a plan by which, next day, I got the case passed for thirty days. My! During that month I studied law day and night, talked with the commonwealth’s witnesses — digested the evidence, and, in short, mastered a complex and difficult case and its law.

Ewing returned and brought with him another lawyer of experience and ability, a descendant of the famous Henry Clay, of Kentucky, willing to join us for the advertising.
(continued tomorrow…)

from “Clan Ewing of Scotland, early history and contribution to America; sketches of some family pioneers and their times,” by Elbert William R. Ewing, A. M., LL. B., LL. D., COBDEN PUBLISHING CO., Ballston, Virginia, 1922

online at www.archive.org/stream/clanewingofscotl00ewin/clanewingofscotl00ewin_djvu.txt

Leave a Reply


− 3 = 4

All of the passengers were cast into the icy waters, where they struggled in vain

Posted by | May 22, 2013

Please welcome guest author Gary Carden. Carden’s autobiographical “Mason Jars in the Flood” received the AWA Book of the Year Award in 2001.

Gary Carden

He received the NC Folklore Award in 2004, and an honorary doctorate by Western Carolina University in 2008. Last year he was awarded the North Carolina Literature Award….the highest honor awarded by the NC Arts Council to an individual.

 

 

 

On a cold Saturday morning in Dillsboro, NC (December 30, 1882), an accident occurred  which the Raleigh Observer would call “the most awful that has happened in any of the public works of this state.”

It involved the drowning of 19 convicts in the Tuckaseigee River. Prior to the accident, 30 convicts had been assembled on the  eastern bank of the Tuckaseigee River to await transportation across the stream to the Cowee Tunnel, where they had been working for several months.

Western North Carolina chain gang. No date. Courtesy Gary Carden.

Western North Carolina chain gang. No date. Courtesy Gary Carden.

The boat, flat-bottomed and capable of holding 50 passengers, had been pulled up on the bank, and the convicts, all shackled and chained, moved into the boat prior to being ferried across the river to their work site. These convicts were part of a large work force, which varied from 150 to 500 workers, that had been “leased” from the prison in Raleigh by the Western North Carolina Railroad which, in turn, was operated by the Richmond and Danville Railroad Company.

Many of these leased prisoners were veterans, having worked  on “the road” for the past three years, and had probably participated in the construction of one or more of the seven tunnels in Swannanoa, prior to the move across the Balsams and down into Jackson County. The convicts working at the Cowee Tunnel were under the supervision of Mr. J. M. McMurray and Mr. E. B. Stamps, who supervised all convicts in the state.

Following the drowning, Stamps was ordered by Governor Jarvis to make a “complete examination of the occurrence.”  Stamps’ report concluded that the drownings were not the fault of anyone. Regardless, the disaster was a great blow to the governor and all of the state authorities who were in charge of “leased prisoners.” In addition, Governor Jarvis had just returned from an inspection of the railroad the week prior to the accident; Jarvis had reported that he was pleased with railroad’s progress.

According to the two guards who were supervising the prisoners, a sturdy steel cable spanned the river at this point, and the daily journey was easily accomplished by a combination of poling and maintaining contact with the cable.

However, it had rained the night before and the bottom of the boat contained a sludge of ice and rain water. As the boat moved into the river, the trapped water flowed into the stern of the flatboat, frightening several convicts and causing them to shout that the boat was sinking. As a result, the prisoners  panicked and rushed to the front of the boat.

Although the guards shouted that the boat was not sinking, the convicts continued to press toward the prow, causing the stern to rise and capsize.  All of the passengers were cast into the icy waters, where they struggled vainly to swim.  Since the convicts were shackled and chained together, they became a tangled mass, locked in a deadly embrace.

According to later accounts, a large number of eyewitnesses stood helplessly by, unable to save the drowning men. A future investigation would note that the river is narrow at the point where the accident occurred and  it runs “still and deep.” A widely circulated newspaper account of the disaster stated that the witnesses stood helplessly “listening to the cries of drowning men and the gasping of able swimmers.”

However, there were 12 convicts and one guard who were swept down river and survived, either because they were not shackled, or they were pulled from the water by their unshackled brothers. Even so, the chilling effects of the water quickly rendered most of them unconscious. Indeed, many, if not all of the survivors, would have died had it not been for the vigorous efforts by guards and other convicts to revive them.

According to a senior thesis submitted by Homer S. Carson III (University of North Carolina at Asheville) several acts of heroism occurred.

Carson’s research of state records and documents revealed that William J. “Fleet” Foster, one of the guards aboard the boat, was pulled ashore by Anderson Drake, a young black prisoner. Normally, this was an act that would have justified a pardon for Drake; however, it was later discovered that Drake had stolen Foster’s wallet during the rescue – as a result, Drake received a lashing (10 strokes with a leather strap) which was administered by a “duly elected officer of the penitentary.”

According to the official investigation of this event by North Carolina’s Governor Jarvis, Drake also received “a small reward.”  In addition, another prisoner, Sam Pickett, “was credited with saving several men from drowning, and was given a full pardon from Governor Jarvis, and a gift of $100.” (The official records indicate that only one of the drowning prisoners was saved.)

The Cowee Tunnel disaster received extensive coverage in newspapers throughout the Southeast. Accounts in papers as varied as The Raleigh Observer, the Augusta Chronicle and the Huntington Gazette in Huntington, AL all dutifully repeated the basic facts, but with occasional mistakes.  The number of victims varied from 18 to 20, and several articles noted that the drowned convicts were not removed from the river for several days; others noted that the retrieval and burial occurred on the same day.

According to most accounts, the burial took place “above the tunnel in a mass grave,” while local oral history says that the unmarked graves (three of them) are located on a hill near the tunnel.

There is a poignant tragedy here.  Not only do we not know the location of the gravesite; there is no appropriate marker to indicate where and why 19 human beings died building a railroad through our county…we do not have their names. Those 19 men have been erased as though they never lived.

A standard response might be that while their deaths are unfortunate, they were, after all …criminals.  Were they? An investigation into who they were and how they came to be standing on the banks of the Tuckaseigee on a cold winter morning in 1882 reveals some disquieting details about chain gangs.

For example, three significant books – one that has been developed into a film by PBS – have much to say about how easy it would be to end up on a chain gang in 1882.  ’Slavery by Another Name,’ by Douglas Blackmon, reveals how southern states managed to create a replacement for slavery.  In effect, the chain gangs enabled people (and railroads) who were in need of a cheap (or free) labor force. After the Civil War large numbers of African Americans were rootless, confused and struggling to adjust to their new-found freedom.

There were numerous misdemeanors, such as larceny, vagrancy, loitering  … laws that if strenuously enforced, could pack the prisons. At some point, an agreement was reached in the majority of Southern states. Prisons entered into profitable agreements with farmers, plant owners and town governments.  They would “lease” workers.

‘One Dies, Get Another,’ by Matthew J. Mancini,  is a brutal account of how chain gangs were housed, fed and exploited. It is a shameful history of a practice that was prevalent throughout North Carolina. ‘Worse Than Slavery,’ by David M. Oshinsky, provides accounts of chain gang abuses with an emphasis on the worst offenders – especially Mississippi’s Parchman Farm.

So, who were those nineteen convicts?  Well, after a bit of determined research, I contacted Matt Bumgarner, who is currently working on a book on the Western North Carolina Railroad.  He sent me the following list:

NAMES            COUNTY                AGE
Moses Brown        Warren                25
Oren Brooks        Orange                22
Charles Eason        Martin                15
Sampson Ward        Onslow                55
Allen Tillman        Anson                18
Robert Robinson        North Hanover            27
Thomas Miller        Chesterfield, S. C.        30
James Fisher        Polk                    18
Nelson Bowser        Hertford                30
John Newsom        Hertford                20
George Tice        Iredell                21
Jerry Smith            Wilson                33
George Rush        Richmond                44
David Dozier        Edgecomb                52
Jim McCallum        Gaston                18
Albert Cowan        Rowan                22
Louis Davis        Vance                29
Alex Adams        Washington            25
John Whitfield        Wayne                20

The average age of the victims is 28.  All had been charged with the same crime – larceny, which is defined as the taking someone else’s property.

According to local legend, the Cowee Tunnel has always been plagued by disaster. Cave-ins were prevelant during construction. The interior is dark, and even today, moisture continues to drip from the ceiling, giving rise to the imaginative idea that this persistent dripping is the tears of convicts who died in the Tuckaseigee River.

At the present time, the Liars Bench, which operates out of the Mountain Heritage Center at Western Carolina University, is developing a series of programs that deals with the history and folklore of western North Carolina. The Cowee Tunnel disaster will be the subject of a program in the near future. The topic of all Liars Bench programs are developed with storytelling, music and poetry.

Stay tuned.

Leave a Reply


4 − = 1

The Chain Gang and The Oconee County Cage

Posted by | May 21, 2013

Report on Oconee County Chain Gang
Mr. Newton Kelly Foreman: Visited July 11 1918
by Assistant Secretary Broyles

Convicts present: 16, 3 of them being trusties. All negroes. Camped about three miles from Seneca. The average daily population on this gang for the past two and a half years has been approximately 12. We found this camp just locating at a new site, which was fairly well chosen and well cleaned off.

 A Southern chain gang, between 1900 and 1906.

A Southern chain gang, between 1900 and 1906.

The men were washing ticks and blankets in a nearby stream under the direction of the foreman. Since our last inspection the Commissioners have provided new bedding for the convicts and have gotten slip covers for the cotton pads as previously recommended.

The pads have been in use over six months but they are clean and apparently new due to the use of these slip covers with which the foreman is very much pleased. The use of these slip covers has increased the score of the gang this year.

The absence of white men from the gang has further raised the score there being now no question of separation of the races either at work or in camp. The foreman stated to us that the authorities have decided to work no more whites on the chain gang but to send them to the Penitentiary or allow them to serve their sentences in jail. This is a wise decision.

The mule fly is badly torn and we recommend that the Supervisor purchase a new one. The Supervisor should keep in his office a careful record of the convict population showing the name, age, race, date of commitment, length of sentence, date of discharge and reason for the discharge; and finally, more medical attention to the gang should be provided for by paying the county physician a salary for, and requiring him to make, a physical examination of each new convict within 24 hours of his commitment to the gang, to vaccinate against smallpox when indicated, and to make weekly inspections of the convicts food quarters and especially the sanitary arrangements of the camp.

Oconee County Cage, used to house SC chain gangs in early 20th century.

Oconee County Cage, used to house SC chain gangs in early 20th century.

We recommend that the foreman have the blankets washed regularly every month, washing the ticks on the pads, at the same time that water and oil be put into the sewerage buckets every night when they are put into the cages; that the fecal matter thrown into the pit daily be covered immediately with about three inches of dirt and that this pit be burned out weekly with straw and oil, that the manure from the mule pen be raked up and piled daily and hauled away from camp weekly and scattered over a field, that kitchen slops be kept covered at all times, that every new convict be given clean blankets upon which to sleep and finally that the foreman secure a good book and keep a complete record of the convicts, showing in the book all the information asked for in the recommendation made above to the Supervisor, and in addition showing a description of the men with notes on characteristic scars, etc. which would help to locate or identify him should he escape.

The Quarterly bulletin, Volume 4 By South Carolina. State Board of Charities and Corrections

The Oconee County Chain Gang Report
Made July 13 1920

The Oconee County chain gang is not in as good condition as it was last year. Some of the reasons for the decreased score, however, are only temporary departures from the usual methods of the camp. Two sick men were confined in the cages at the time of this visit so that the beds could not be made up or properly aired. Foreman Cobb had also departed from his usual custom of having a pit for disposing of the sewage and was emptying the soil buckets out on the mountainside.

For the improvement of the camp it is suggested that a soil pit be dug that the buckets be emptied into it each day and that the waste be covered with at least three inches of earth, that the kitchen be screened to protect the food from flies, that each prisoner be given a separate tub of water to bathe in, that more washable covers for the mattresses be purchased and that the practice of allowing the prisoners to initiate new convicts be abolished in order to prevent bad blood among the men, as well as to avoid unwarranted punishment.

Quarterly Bulletin, Volumes 1-2 By South Carolina. State Board of Public Welfare

During the early twentieth century, it was not possible to return prisoners doing work in the most distant parts of Oconee County to the county jail at Walhalla every night.

The solution was the Oconee County Cage, or “Jail on Wheels,” a prison pulled by a team of horses.

While this treatment of prisoners seems horrible by today’s standards, it was hardly unusual for the early 1900s, and it was certainly far better than the treatment many prisoners received during the years before 1900.

Interior of Oconee County Cage, used to house SC chain gangs

Interior of Oconee County Cage, used to house SC chain gangs in early 20th century.

Although the cage is only fourteen feet long, eight feet wide, and seven feet high, there were four metal bunk beds of three tiers each inside for a total of twelve beds. A small metal barrel in the center of the floor was used for a fire on cold nights, and canvas covered the sides of the cage to protect the men from cold winds.

The men who worked on the roads in the county and who slept in the cage at night were often serving short sentences of less than two months. On weekends, their families sometimes visited them and brought small baskets of food from home. One man, who remembers visiting a relative assigned to the cage while performing county work, remarked that everyone including the guards would have lunch together on Sunday and talk about friends and local happenings.

In 1915, when the prisoners were working on the Oconee Station Road, they were fed fried bacon, biscuits and syrup, and coffee for breakfast; cabbage, bacon, and cornbread for lunch; and fried bacon, biscuits and syrup for supper. This diet was probably standard at that period.

After the county acquired gasoline powered trucks and machinery in the 1930s and built a county stockade (prison), the cage ceased to be used. It was listed in the National Register of Historic Places in 1982.

Sources: The Quarterly bulletin, Volume 4 1918 By South Carolina. State Board of Charities and Corrections
The Quarterly bulletin, Volume 1-2 1920 By South Carolina. State Board of Charities and Corrections

http://files.usgwarchives.net/sc/oconee/history/FCH-11.txt

http://www.nationalregister.sc.gov/oconee/S10817737009/index.htm

Leave a Reply


8 + = 13

They made their money on the big chunks of coal

Posted by | May 20, 2013

“Coal is like layers in a layer cake. And where you’ve got it cut by erosion by the valleys, why, it’s just in fingers, and these fingers went miles and miles back in there. Six or seven miles to the back side of the property. And then they retreated the mine back almost to the drift mouth, to the entrance of the mine, so [the Blue Diamond Mine, near Hazard, KY] was quite a successful. We left it hand-loaded, because you know the old say saying, ‘If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it.’

Miners at Blue Diamond Mines, Hazard, KY. 1922. Courtesy http://kycoal.homestead.com/

Miners at Blue Diamond Mines, Hazard, KY. 1922. Courtesy http://kycoal.homestead.com/

“So this was probably as efficient a hand-loaded mine as you could have. Looking back, it probably wasn’t terribly efficient, but still … for its time it was highly efficient. The secret to hand-loading was to have good haulage. If you could deliver the cars to the hand-loader, and he was reasonably productive. Now, there were certain areas where the people just didn’t like to work particularly, but up around Hazard, they were very motivated people, and they would do very well….

“At that time, most of the people were on piecework. The haulage people weren’t, but the preparation of the coal—what they’d do is they would send the preparation crew in and they would cut, drill, and shoot the coal, … and they would start on the—they would use black powder in that mine and it brought out tremendous lumps of coal, the size of these chairs. And that was where the market was. People wanted lump coal, and … they gave them nothing like the stuff that they burn in power plants today, which is where most of the market is.

“Some of it was given away. It was just sold for nothing. So they made their money on the big chunks of coal. But anyway, what they would do is they would start on the ventilation system at the exhaust end and they’d move on up the current of fresh air so that the black powder smoke would always be blowing away from them. So they would cut, drill, and shoot the thing, and the cutting crews would go in about two o’clock in the afternoon, and they’d be through work by six o’clock that night…. Instead of working an eight hour shift, they would get it done in about four hours. That was the advantage of piecework. You know, they got paid so much for each place they cut, and so … they cut a lot of coal that way. The hand-loaders got paid based on the amount that they loaded, and they were very productive that way.”

G. Gordon Bonnyman
(1919- 2004)
born Knoxville, TN

interviewed for the Veteran’s Oral History Project

Center for the Study of War & Society

Department of History

University of Tennessee at Knoxville

online at http://tinyurl.com/2hj624

G.+Gordon+Bonnyman Blue+Diamond+Mine Harlan+KY appalachia appalachian+culture appalachian+history history+of+appalachia

Leave a Reply


9 + 5 =