M&fsxzto® Feature §>®citi©ini
PASSING OF SOUTHERN CONVICT CAMPS |
Nature, in
Running Out of
Great Pine For
ests for the Pro
duction of Turpen
tine, Seems to Be
Aiding Legislation
in Doing Away with
the Old System.
BY MARC N. GOODNOW.
IT was a typically beautiful midwinter
Sunday In Central Florida. A tramp
of several miles through the whis
pering pines of a turpentine forest had
brought a party of tourists to a clump i f
rough, whitewashed, board buildings
B<,uatted in the white sand close to u
rrliroad. From a distance the largest
tullding had the appearance of a ware
house ot a stable surrounded by a hign
board fence or stockade. It was a story
and a half high, thrice as long as
width, with windows along the sides,
heavily barred.
At diagonally opposite corners of the
high stockade were rudely constructed
pintle rms, each sheltered by as rude a
ro;f of pine boards. Beneath each shel
ter sat a young man, lazily smoking a
cigarette, with ominous, long-barreled
pistols beside htm.
Near the railroad stood another low
white building. Inside another inclosuro
was a small, one-story shack, from on<i
en<? of which a cloud of smoke issued,
proclaiming the kitchen. Farther back in
the same inclosuro was another shack,
open on three sides, and a pig pen.
In the middle of the sandy yard stooi
a well, fed from surface water and the
excess of the bayou more than a mile
away. There were no trees, no grass, no
si ade of any kind, nothing but hot, white
Bond and a few stumps.
A lean, swarthy man of 35 years, wear.
Ing the übiquitous black slouch hat, and
known by the official title of "Captain,"
v/elcomed the rather curious visitors, and
with some show of native pride even in •
vited them to take a look about the camp
the camp being a prison, housing somo
forty negro convicts.
"Sunday mornln' the men spend In
cleanln' up. takln' baths and changi-T
clothes," drawled the captain, as the big
gat of the stockade swung open and a
growing pile of soiled, striped flannel
garments became conspicuous. There was
the unique sight, of a score of .nude con
victs, exchanging soiled garments for
fresher ones. Their glistening bodies
were burnished bronze in the strong sun
light, and their huge, knotted muscles
played under tho skin like great cables.
The interior of the bunkhouse and
rnetsroom was even more crude as a
place in which to live than the exterior
aG a means of shelter. No attempt had
been made to "finish"" the building, as
craftsmen would say; that Is, to ceil, or
plaster, or remove the bare effect of
rrfters and boards. A barricade of heavy
timbers set vertically from floor to reef
formed a partition between messroom and
sleeping quarters. Next to the only door
of the building was a small cage of
heavy timbers and furnished with a sma't
heating stove and a chair for the gu-inl
who kept night vigil over the forty sleep
ing convicts.
Sans Knives, Sans Forks.
Two zinc-covered tables to the right ol
the entrance formed the dining beard;
boxes and broken chairs formed the
seats. In a corner close by stood a sink
and basin where the dishes were washed.
Only dishes, pant" and spoons are usst!
inside this ."tockaue. There are no knlvea
or forks (except for warden and guards).
Fingers were made first; besides, knives
and forks are much too ugly as weapons
in a quarrel.
In the same room, at the corner far
thest from the door, were two cracked
porcelain-lined tubs set in an unscreened
space, merely surrounded by torn wire
netting. Several more broken chairs and
boxes and a heating stove within
wnden pen completed the furniture and
equipment of the messroom. On one trail
hung an Illumination of the ten com
mandments ond several illustrated
ptalms. On another wall hung the rule*
and regulations of the state prison au
thorities, almost too black from soot and
grime to be deciphered. Except for
these wall decorations, there was no evi
dence anywhere of any reading matter.
The bunkroom was a long, low com
partment filled with Iron beds supporting
tlllhy mattresses. The floor was bare
and reasonably clean, and the entire In
tel lor smelled strongly of a mixture r.f
formaldehyde and other disinfectants
" The beds are a bit old," was the ex.
plsnatlon volunteered, "but we've made a
requisition for new ones. We disinfect
o\ery other day and scrub the floor every
morning. Sunday morning, of course, tne
teh always take their time abo.it
things."
In the messroom the prisoners were
singing and laughing and telling Jokes.
In one corner a black figure was Just
emerging from his "tub"; in another, the
lattle of tin and granite dishes told of
p-eparatlons for dinner.
"Where's Ch?rile Jackson?" called ths
captain, and '.wo barefooted men sham
bled oft' to find Jackson. Presently the
most genial smile one ever saw peered
around the jamb of the door, and a slen
der young negro of 30 years shuffled into
the room.
"Charlie," said the captain, "let's have
a little harmonizln'."
"Yassah, boss," he smiled, and forth
with assembled his troupe of vaudevilia
ertertalners. Charlie disappeared for a
moment and returned in his theatrical
ringing of false whiskers, crooked cane,
corncob pipe, straw hat arid a bend in
hie back which, with one arm akimbo,
proclaimed him old "Uncle Eph" In tho
original skit. The Old Plantation. "Eph"
hail returned after forty years' absencs
to 6ee his "old mammy and the chillun."
"Mammy Liza" was enacted by a young
tuck with a bandana tied about his head
met falling over his shoulders.
Camp Meeting Songs.
Ir. the midst of this skit. In which
'Uncle Eph" referred to his children gen
sially as "big hunks o' midnight," and in
tvhic'i each was letter perfect, they a'l
aroka i tc the song. 'Plckin' Cotton,'
r.nich waj the cue for "buck and wing"
inncitig. Each of the seven Indulged In
lis own brand of dancing and executed
stopj on? never saw before —in shoes an!
borefi rr
Some fnf pitched a quarter to the floo",
and the antics of the dancer in picking up
thf co;r threw the observers into spasms
ot l>.i ghte; 1 . Then followed a series o'
r : an:- tlor. and camp-meeting songs and
hymns b; another set of singers—curl •
ousty tncugh, the most vicious men 'n
tho camp, it wss said.
"Almost every nignt it's Just like this, 1
s:iid a guard. "They go uver this stuff
time and again They gave a minstrel
show last Christmas and made quite a
lot of money from the visitors.''
"Don't they do It largely to forget they
are here?"
"All their singing and dancing wouldn t
make them fcrget that. ' answered t':e
guaid. with a significant glance. "Il.it
alter the first three or four months the
tragedy wears off and they get to be like
ihi> fellows whe have been here for year>>
It'i the man who first comes to one of
tl tsw ramps ihai blood* and gets sullen
and is always thinking of 'getting away.
That's the dangerous time, when he has
to bo watched, and about the only time
when he tries to break camp. I could
ainost tell you how loner every man has
teen In this stockade simply by the look
on his face."
All the men were In their bare feet;
feet, too, that were swelled and mis
shapen almost beyond recognition. They
were spread out, broken down, cut,
gcuged, blistered and scratched; and the
rails of many of their toes were gone. tt
is hard to imagine what comfort sucli
feet will over find in the shoes of civi
hi.ed society when release from prisou
conditions finally comes.
"Nlggah's dat fust comes heah," said
Charlie's mate at the grindstone, "whit
ain't use" to bein' on dey feet, gits fagged
easy an' hit mek dey feet swell up sump
tir. awful, boss. Dat's why dey all goes
barefoot in de stockade an' round' camp.
Dey shoes ain't big enough foh dey feet.
Mine doan pwell no mo'."
The "Captain" had neglected to men
tier. that while his visitors were being
shown through the camp, a negro convict
was being chased through the woods sev.
era' miles away in the regular Sunday
r.iorning rehearsal. This was a weekly
practice for the purpose of keeping (lis
dt.gs sense ol smell keenly whetted to
a po:nt of infant usefulness In case of
an attempted escape.
When the visitors emerged from the
raess and bunk rooms into the stockadd
they were amused by the sight of a shin
ing black figure devouring with profound
relish a huge "sliver" of possum, but
had no idea that the fellow had worked
and dodged his way for an hour ahead of
the dogs in order to acquire it.
The work is so arranged that the
squads arrive at a certain stage of their
rounds on certain days of the week. The
entire territory is covered between early
Mtnday morning and Friday night or
Saturday noon. But it is constant and
heavy work. A soft pitch is gathered
from the open face of the blazed tree
from March to October. From Octoher to
March the gum must be scraped or
pulled frpm the tree. The still. In which
the gum and pitch are t.ansformed into
spirits of turpentine, is located near tha
Ci.mp, and Is kept supplied by teamsters
and their wagons. A barrel of soft pitch
pioduces approximately ten gallons of
spirits of turpentine. In a single charfo
of ten barrels of scrapings, or gum, there
are about six barrels of resin and two
.year trees, and another "back-box" older
fees that are sufficiently large to yield
still more resin.
Work of the Convicts.
These convicts are worked in three o r
fcur squads, each In charge of one or
two guards and severul cur dog 3. One
•quad may "box" virgin trees, another
dip fresh pine pitch, another scrape
third-yo.ar trees, another "pull*' fourth
bc.rrels of spirits. The stills run two
charges a day ordinarily, and produce
fiom 100 to li.o gallons of turpentine in
one charge.
July and August, the rainy season In
Ficrlda, are the worst months of the year
for ague, chills, fever, pneumonia and tin
like. Then it rains almost every day and
the water floods the country.
"Dat's de time when it gits you," said
a convict In a whisper. "Mah Gawd,
man, hit's sho' awful, standin' in watali
an runnin' all day long in the wet grass
u\i to yo' waist. Why. man, ah's got a
lump in mah chist right now as big as yo'
fist. Every man in this heah camp has
got sumptn" the matter of him."
In 1310, Gov. Gilchrist considered twen
ty deaths among 1781 prisoners a low
rate, because "so many are diseased be
fore entering the camps."
Reward for Industry.
All prisoners are worked on. the task
system, and if they finish their work on
Friday evening or early Saturday morn
ing. they have the balance of the week In
v.hich to rest. This system. Inspectors
say. has been the means of getting good
work out of the men without punishment.
Put there are many camps where thero Is
entirely too much punishment, where the
wardens and guards are not at all suited
to tholr positions.
When you cut or burn your finger and
run to the medicine cabinet for a bottle
of spirits of turpentine, you seldom stop
to think of the way in which this medi
cine is gathered; how much more of pain
It involves than the pain you seek to al
lay by its use, what bodily and mental
travail, what cost In human life.
At the time of my visit to this Florida
ccmp, 1800 or more convicts were leased
by the state to one company—the Florida
Pine Company—for the sum of $323.84 per
ccnvict annually, and In turn subleased
to individual turpentine distillers operat
ine the thirty-one convict camps of the
state, for the sum of S4OO a year apiece.
Thus the Florida Pine Company was col
lecting the tidy little sum of about $76
per annum upon the labor of between
1400 and 1800 ccnvlcts—a total of perhaps
$12£,000 a year. This company paid to
tha state one year for the use of convicts
$207,116.48. The arrangement was so
satisfactory and profitable to both parties
that the lease was renewed In 1909 for a
period of four more years; and on Janu
ary 1, 1914, a number of leases were re
newed for two years.
All the convict got out of this sum was
a whitewashed stockade, work the year
round in all kinds of fever and weather,
punishment with a leather strap for in
fraction of rules or lagging at work, no
er.ergy left for overtime work, even if ha
were paid for It, and no money for thoss
whe might be dependent upon him.
And then, as If the system were In
compatible with nature herself, the mil
lions of pine trees began each year to
lose their productiveness so it was no
longer profitable to operate the camps, a
number of which went out of existence
when the four-year lease expired In 1914,
an.-; others followed, so that the state,
both from necessity and policy, provided
by statute for the care of Its convicts on
a state prison farm in Bradford County.
The bill provided tnat after January 1,
1914, all new prisoners should be placed
on the state farm, except that able
bodied tfnes could be delivered to private
lesfees or to counties, to replace those
whose sentences might have expired or
who might have become hospital sub
jects. As time goes on, the solution. If it
car be called that, of the state convict
from the turpentine camp to the prison
farm becomes a gradual and much-de
elred process