Read Slavery by Another Name Online
Authors: Douglas A. Blackmon
of free blacks permit ed by TCI to be buried on company land. The
rest—and al the burials outside the new prison at the top of the
slope—were the hastily l ed graves of mine prisoners from
families too poor or forgot en to retrieve the bodies of their dead.16
A few days after Cot enham arrived at Slope No. 12 in April 1908,
the president of U.S. Steel, W. E. Corey, and a contingent of other
top executives from the Pit sburgh headquarters made their rst
visit to inspect the new Alabama properties. There was great
applause in Birmingham for the men whose purchase had saved
Tennessee Coal, Iron & Railroad Co. from nancial ruin. But the
enthusiasm of the city's leaders was tempered by the quiet
recognition that the South's greatest industrial concern had come
under the control of men in Pennsylvania. Whatever ambition there
had been for Alabama's iron and steel industry to eclipse its rivals
in the North was lost. Already, there were rumors that the new
owners were uneasy about the conditions of the prison mine and
the brutality in icted on African Americans there. For the time
being though, lit le would change. Four more convicts died before
the end of the month. Five more in May. Another four in June and
four more in July17 The burial eld at Slope No. 12 quickly began
to fil .
By midsummer, U.S. Steel and other mine owners in Birmingham
were moving toward a bit er climax in their struggle with the
United Mine Workers. Seven thousand free miners were on strike—
United Mine Workers. Seven thousand free miners were on strike—
this time joined by ve hundred free black miners, many of whom
had been brought in as strikebreakers during earlier labor unrest
and had never been welcomed by a union run by white men. Now
hundreds of miners swarmed the entry-ways of the mines, harassing
any workers who entered and threatening to break free convicts as
they moved from the mines to their prison. The homes in Prat City
of some leading company of icials, as wel as miners who continued
to work, were dynamited in the night.
Coal company o cials petitioned the state to break up the strike
with militiamen and hired armed deputies, importing sixty "Texas
sharpshooters" to help defend the mines. To keep operating,
Tennessee Coal, Iron & Railroad and Sloss-She eld pushed
Cot enham and other convict laborers—who had no choice but to
continue working—to excruciating limits. They soon resurrected the
long-abandoned and notorious practice of hiring black work gangs
through white foremen—often farm owners with large groups of
African American tenants under their control. In a practice
reminiscent of the Confederate government's inducements to slave
owners to work mines during the Civil War, white foremen brought
in workers from the countryside and directly supervised them in the
mines. The white "owner" col ected al their wages and paid his
black subjects a fraction of the pay of real miners.18 Trains loaded
with black farmworkers from the Black Belt pul ed into
Birmingham each day—to the hoots and threats of strikers. Al the
while, company labor agents prowled the countryside for more
convicts, encouraging local sheri s to arrest and sel as many more
men as possible.
The specter of black and white miners uni ed against the coal
companies was terrifying to the elite of Birmingham—and across
the South. Mine owners responded with an aggressive campaign to
divide the union along racial lines. A prominent African American
union leader, Wil iam Mil in, was taken from jail and lynched with
the aid of two white deputy sheri s. A week later, another union
miner was hanged from a tree—again by a deputy sheri —after
being accused of dynamiting a company miner's house. Governor
being accused of dynamiting a company miner's house. Governor
Braxton Comer issued orders preparing the state militia to mobilize
and banning strikers from congregating outside mine entrances.19
In the midst of the crisis, on August 2, Cot enham could not
return to his place in the mine. Green had survived ve months at
Slope No. 12. But he had become a shadow of the man arrested
behind the train station in Columbiana. A doctor diagnosed
Cot enham as having syphilis. If the doctor's assessment was correct,
Cot enham almost certainly was already infected at the time of his
arrest in Shelby County. Even in the bacterium's most aggressive
form in a nineteenth-century medical regime without knowledge of
penicil in, syphilis took at least two years to reach Green's mortal y
il condition. In the unsanitary circumstances of the prison mine, the
symptoms of syphilis were exacerbated and sometimes confused
with other maladies. Already, the organism that causes syphilis—a
bacterium called Treponema pal idum—had infected his central
nervous system. The dorsal columns of Cot enham's spinal cord
already were hardening or developing lesions—triggering
excruciating stabbing pains in his legs, rectum, and upper
extremities.
Even for the most fortunate patients, there was no cure for
syphilis in 1908. Doctors gave those who could a ord it doses of
mercury in the belief it fought the progress of the bacteria.
Otherwise, good food and clean surroundings were the only
prescription for extending the vigor of the patient. Cot enham had
neither. His symptoms progressed rapidly. Temporary blindness. A
lack of sensation in his feet. Searing pains. Soon, his doctor
diagnosed asitia—a loathing of al food—and locomotor ataxia, the
archaic term for syphilis of the spinal cord.20
Green began to lose his ability to maintain balance, and then to
control the movement of his legs. First, he would have walked only
with a stick to stand on, then only with a cane in each hand—
struggling to keep his feet from ying uncontrol ably to his sides,
front, or rear—slapping his feet back to the oor as he struggled to
contain the movement of each step. His stomach convulsed
contain the movement of each step. His stomach convulsed
agonizingly at the sight or swal owing of food, vomiting almost
anything he at empted to ingest.
Cot enham might have lived for weeks or months in such a state
— declining steadily toward a state of complete paralysis. But in his
gravely weakened condition, Green was even more vulnerable to
tuberculosis—the endemic respiratory disease cycling through the
prisoners of Slope No. 12. Transmit ed through impure water
supplies, infected food, close contact with other victims, unsanitary
surroundings, and a host of other means common to a prison mine,
tuberculosis was the world's leading kil er. Triggering vomiting,
night sweats, and chil s, it at acked the outer lining of victims’
lungs, so sapping them of strength and color that the
"consumption"—its common name at the time—was sometimes
mistaken for vampirism.
However or whenever Green became infected, he was spiraling
toward death by the time he entered the prison hospital on the rst
Saturday of August. Wracked with convulsive pains, starved by his
own disgust for food, fevered and unable to control the movement
of his limbs, friendless and lost to the other descendants of old
Scipio, Green Cot enham died thirteen days later.
On August, 15, 1908, his body was placed in a crude pine box
and carried by other convicts out the gate of Slope No. 12. A lit le
more than a hundred yards down the hil , alongside the track
fol owing a long creek bed, past the last pockmarks of shal ow
sinking graves dug earlier that year, the men rested the simple
casket on the ground and began digging among the trash and debris
of the burial eld. In the distance, the belching chimneys of the
Ensley furnaces blackened the western horizon. No record was
made of precisely where Cot enham's twisted remains, riddled with
tubercular infection, were buried. The company couldn't even
clearly remember his name. The doctor for Tennessee Coal, Iron &
Railroad Co. logged the event only as the death of "Green
Cunningham."
XV
EVERYWHERE WAS DEATH
"Negro Quietly Swung Up by an Armed Mob …Al is quiet."
On the night before Green Cotenham's death at Slope No. 12, a
mob of twelve thousand white people rampaged in Spring eld,
Il inois, the longtime homeplace of Abraham Lincoln and site of
Theodore Roosevelt's "square deal for the Negro" promise ve years
earlier.
A month earlier, on July 4, Spring eld police thwarted the
kil ing of a black man accused of murdering a local white
businessman. On July 12, passengers on a Central of Georgia train
passing Round Oak, Georgia, watched out their windows as a crowd
seized and hanged a black man for pul ing a knife during a brawl
with a local white. Two days later, in Middle-ton, Tennessee, a mob
of one hundred hanged Hugh Jones for al egedly making an
advance on a seventeen-year-old white girl.1 Less than twenty-four
hours after that, an elderly black man was shot to death in
Beaumont, Texas, after a gang of marauding whites mistook him for
a younger African American accused of hit ing a thirteen-year-old
white girl. The mob was set ing two black-owned businesses a re
when the victim passed, but paused long enough to kil the man.2
The next week, news of a notably sordid lynching in Dal as,
Texas, ashed across national newswires: after an eighteen-year-old
African American named Tad Smith was accused of raping a white
woman, a crowd of one thousand whites tied him to a stake in the
ground, surrounded him with kerosene-soaked wood, and cheered
as they watched him burn to death.3
A week later, only a detachment of Georgia state militia in the
town of Ocil a was able to prevent the lynching of four randomly
seized African Americans taken by a mob after a white woman
claimed an unidenti ed black man entered her hotel room. The
next day, a mob in Pensacola, Florida, at acked the jail where
next day, a mob in Pensacola, Florida, at acked the jail where
Leander Shaw was being held for an al eged sexual assault and
kni ng of a white woman. The sheri and two deputies resisted a
crowd that grew to one thousand, shooting and kil ing at least two
of the white men at acking the jail. Sometime after midnight, the
crowd overwhelmed police, took Shaw from his cel , dragged him
two blocks with a noose on his neck, hanged him from a light pole
in the center of the city's park, and then began ring on his corpse.
"2,000 bul ets completely riddled his body," wrote a correspondent
for the Atlanta Constitution. On the same night, in Lyons, Georgia, a
white crowd tore through a brick jail wal to reach and kil a black
man accused of assault on a local white girl.4
Two days later, about one hundred white men broke into the
Russel -vil e, Kentucky, jail and seized a black farmer accused of
kil ing his white landlord; they took three other African Americans
from the jail as wel , and hanged al four from a tree on a country
road. A note at ached to one body read: "Let this be a warning to
you niggers to let white people alone."5
Back in Spring eld, a white woman falsely claimed rape on
August 14, after her secret sexual a air with a local black man was
discovered. The mob that raged that Friday night kil ed at least
seven black people, destroyed much of the African American
section of the town, and issued proclamations that no blacks should
return to the city. Calm was restored only after the arrival of four
thousand soldiers.6
Two weeks later, a delegation of prominent Birmingham citizens
visited leaders of the striking miners stil encamped in tents outside
the Alabama mines and issued an explicit threat. The owners of
Tennessee Coal, Iron & Railroad, Sloss-She eld, and Prat
Consolidated Coal—the three biggest companies and each a major
buyer of forced black laborers—made clear they would do anything
necessary to crush the strike. Unless the strike ended, Birmingham
would "make Spring eld, Il inois look like six cents," according to a
newspaper reporter who shadowed the visit.7
newspaper reporter who shadowed the visit.
Alabama governor Braxton Comer issued a statement insisting no
such madness would be necessary to destroy the biracial labor
activists of Birmingham. Tel ing union leaders that he and other