When Miners March

by William C. Blizzard

“Secretary, Operators’ Association of Williamson Field (The Williamson field made up of Mingo County, W. Va. and Pike County, Ky.) Williamson, West Virginia

  “Dear Sir: I quote you below, report received from Operative 24, dated Matewan, May 14:

  “There was a mass meeting of the miners here tonight, which was attended by about 500 men. The speaking was done in the open between the railroad depot and the street. Mother Jones did not arrive, neither were there any district or national men present. Preacher Combs, who is well known and who has been signing up the men, was the first speaker, following (sic) by a Negro preacher named Johnson. The meeting was opened with a song and a prayer, after which Combs made a radical talk, in which he said that the operators bitterly opposed the Union and had managed to keep most of the poor miners in ignorance of the benefits derived from the Union by telling them that the Union was composed of loafers and men who did not want to earn a living by work. He said: ‘I am here to say that we do not want to work but we want to earn,’ that the operator wanted the miners to load by the ton of 2,000 pounds to the ton. (Op 24 had bad ears in this instance. It was the miner who wanted to load by the ton of 2,000 pounds, not the long ton, and not by the unstamped car, as in nonunion Mingo.) He said that the operators were telling the men that they were now paying them more than the Union scale, and that if this was true, why didn’t the operators sign up with the Union and take it off of the men, that the men did not want to take it off the operators; that all they wanted was the Union scale and recognition.

  Operators Use ‘Yellow-Dog’

  “Combs said the operators accused the miners of criminal acts and that they would burn the tipples and blow up the miners, but that this statement was not true; that there was not a miner in Mingo County who would be guilty of such an act, and that the companies need not nail up the drift mouths and bring in a carload of men to guard the tipples: that the miners only wanted fair treatment and that they were going to have it. He said all business men were organized and that if the laborers did not organize that they would always be in bondage – to do the bidding of the capitalist. He said the superintendents were going to all the members with a paper to be signed, which was an agreement that the miner would sign his birthright away for five years’ house rent. Combs said that no man would sign it; that those who did sign it were not as good as a yellow dog.

  “He stated that the superintendent or operator who would ask his fellow man to sign such a paper did not have a heart, that he carried a gizzard around in a heart’s place. He said he hoped the men would all go home and tell their wives that they had decided to make a change: to tell her that they were going to recognize the miners as human beings, and that they intended to give them their just dues – a part of what they earn. He said the Negroes were once in bondage and Abraham Lincoln gave them their freedom, and now the miners, both black and white, were in bondage and that the United Mine Workers were going to give them their liberty. He said the sheriff was one man who had lived up to his promises when he was a candidate for office, and that if he continued to do so, he would be elected to any office in the county that he asked for.

  Miners Sign Up

  “The Negro speaker was comical and caused much laughter by his speaking. One of his remarks was that if wouldn’t be a Union man, he would go home and ask his wife to chain him in the yard with the dog.

  “After the speaking, some new miners signed up. I do not know how many, but I saw about 200 go into the hall. I did not hear any expressions from the business men of Matewan and do not know how they feel toward the union. There were some miners at the speaking from Glen Alum. I noticed two Italians and one American man at the speaking, and all left on No. 2 Saturday morning for Glen Alum.

  “Judge Evans came to Matewan on Train No. 2 Saturday morning. I was informed that he had been employed by the Union as their attorney. George Allen, a merchant from Thacker, was present at the speaking. After the speaker had finished, he took the soap box and informed the men that he had been a miner 11 years, but was now engaged in the merchandise business in Thacker, and that some of the miners of Thacker mines wanted a place to meet and organize. He said that his place of business was at their disposal and that they could hold their meetings there, and if there wasn’t enough room in his place they could get a house on the Kentucky side of the river.

  Yours very truly, T.L. Felts.”

  The killing of Sid Hatfield had an important effect on the coal miners of West Virginia, but this will be taken up in its proper chronological sequence. Let us continue with what was happening in Mingo County in the early summer of 1920.

  Miners Threaten Strike

  Some 2,800 miners had been locked out of their jobs and thrown out of their homes. This meant that nearly 10,000 men, women and children were living in tents and shacks while the coal companies attempted to starve them into submission. The principal tent colonies in Mingo were near Holan and Hermit and Lick Creek and Sprig. Every week the UMW international organizers dispensed relief, as was at that time required by the UMW constitution. The operators attempted to stop this by arresting the international man. They succeeded only temporarily.

  In keeping with historical precedent, the coal operators brought in strikebreakers. And, as in previous strikes, the Union men shamed many of them into going back home. During one week in the Mingo County town of Williamson, 200 strike-breakers were sent back home by the UMW, the Union paying their transportation. The state police had been formed just a short time before under Governor Cornwell, who was still in office at this time. The legislation creating the state police was bitterly opposed by the miners for they knew the record of such officers in the neighboring state of Pennsylvania. They feared similar use of the state men in West Virginia.

  These police were present in some numbers in Mingo, in addition to the Baldwin-Felts detectives. And the miners found their fears to be true. The state police, to put it mildly, were not friendly. The miners at the time called them “Cossacks.”

  The situation in Mingo was still in the lock-out stage, and District 17 President C.F. Keeney was making efforts to meet with the operators of the Williamson Field. But the operators answered with a scurrilous letter, which Keeney read from the courthouse steps in a speech at Williamson. On June 22, 1920, a convention of miners at Williamson asked that one more effort be made to affect a meeting with the operators; that if the operators again refused to negotiate a strike would be called.

  12/26/1952 (Twenty-seventh)

  On June 26 Keeney sent a wire to 71 coal companies:

  “Dear Sir: In compliance with the instructions of the delegate convention of subdistrict No. 2 of District 17 of the United Mine Workers of America, recently held in the city of Williamson, W. Va., representing all of the organized miners of Mingo County, W. Va., and that part of Pike County, Ky. bordering on Tug River, I desire to request that you meet the representatives of our organization in an effort to negotiate a wage agreement for this section, and to arrive at an amicable settlement of all matters in difference between the miners and their respective employers.

  “There is certainly no valid reason why the same harmony and good will that prevails in other large organized industries should be absent in such an important industry as that of coal mining, and it is with this feeling that we solicit your cooperation and make this request.

  “Trusting that we may have an early reply indicating your willingness to cooperate with us in promoting harmony in this industry. I am pleased to remain,

  Yours very truly,

  C.F. Keeney.”

  Most of the coal companies replied by letter in no uncertain terms. One sent a telegram which will give an idea as to the general tone of all:

  “Your wire twenty-sixth. We have no organization in this section: our men working every day making big wages, and most kindly relations and perfect understanding exist between our employees and the company. Our men bitterly opposed to your irresponsible organization, and we respectfully but emphatica
lly decline to meet you or your representatives.

  “G.C. Woods,

  “Gen. Mgr. Tierney Mining Co.”

  Operators Are Unbending

  However, three tipple mines and 19 tiny “wagon” mines in Mingo did sign contracts with the UMW effective July 30, 1920 and extending through March 31, 1922. This, however, had no effect on the main situation in bloody Mingo. The attitude of the operators is again given quite frankly in a statement they prepared for the Senators who investigated the strike which was attracting nationwide notice:

  “Under no circumstances whatever will the operators of the Mingo field recognize the United Mine Workers of America or any of its officials or representatives: we will not establish any business relations with them, because we have now all the men we can possibly use, and in many instances we are under contract to keep them as long as their work is satisfactory.

  “First. They propose and defiantly proclaim that they will take our property from us and appropriate it to their own use without paying us one cent of consideration therefore.

  “Second. They will not respect their contracts with their employers, but break them at will and stop work whenever required so to do by their national officers, although they have no complaints or grievance against their employer.

  “Third. They look upon and treat as their deadly enemy every executive, administrative, and legislative official who seeks to preserve law and order.

  “Fourth. They endeavor to deprive us and our employees of our lawful and constitutional rights to contract with each other, and peaceably pursue our occupations.

  Call UMW Conspiracy

  “Fifth. The organization itself is a conspiracy to commit robbery by force and arms, resulting in the assassination and murder of innocent men, women and children.

  “Sixth. The courts have found that it is an unlawful conspiracy per se: and is engaged in an attempt to destroy the coal mining industry of West Virginia.

  “Seventh. To deal with them in any form necessarily means the recognition of their organization and its right to prescribe terms and conditions of employment.

  “With such a band of men as this, with their avowed purpose and object, we will have no business relations under any consideration.

  “Operators’ Association of the Williamson Field.”

  It may easily be seen that the coal operators of Mingo were in no conciliatory mood.

  Perhaps we might look still further into the “most kindly relations and perfect understanding,” to repeat the words of Mr. Woods of the Tierney Mining Co., which existed between employer and employee in Mingo County. A fine example may be found in the case of Frank Ingham, a Negro who had, in 1921, mined coal for 30 years, 14 of those years in Mingo County. His story is rather long, but it will be given fully, as it is in many ways typical of the experiences of hundreds of miners who were blessed with the kindliness and understanding of the coal operators. Frank speaks:

  Blessing of the Blacklist

  “When I joined the Union I was discharged, and notice was served on me by the constable, William Blair, of Mingo County, to vacate the company’s premises, and the notice said five days from date, and that was given to me on Friday, and it was two days that had passed, and I only had three days in which to vacate the premises, including Sunday…. I went to McVeigh, Ky., about 11 miles from Williamson, and went to work for the Pond Creek Coal Co. I worked there for two weeks, when Mr. Hogan, the manager, came to the mine and says, ‘Frank, I have had a telephone message from the manager of the mine that you left, and he says that you belonged to the union, and he advised us to get rid of you.’

  “I says, ‘All right, Mr. Hogan.’ and I left there then and came to Alfex, and I only worked there five days before Mr. Lecky discharged me for the same thing.

  “I came back to West Virginia and went to L.G. Brady, and I said, ‘I have been blacklisted by the operators after serving about 30 years in the mines, and I would like to get some work to do to make an honest living.’ He says, ‘All right, Frank.’ I went there and went to work and my wife was teaching school at the place I was discharged from at the time I joined the Union, and (she) told me that I had better not come out in that district any more, not even to the school house, because if I did it would not be good for me. I went to the superintendent of the Lee District Board of Education and asked him to transfer my wife to some other place to teach and I explained the conditions surrounding the case to him, and he said no, that he could not transfer her….”

  12/27/52 (Twenty-eight)

  Ingham then relates that the operator who had fired him and had him blacklisted asked him to come back to work, which Ingram did. But he is again discharged after about six weeks.

  “The reason that he gave for discharging me the last time was that all of the white men that had joined the union, he had discharged them, and he said that he was going to put all of the colored fellows back to work and put the colored fellows in the place of all these white fellows, and I told him that I did not think that would be a very safe thing to do, from the fact that it would terminate in a race riot, and I would not like to see my people in anything like that because they were outnumbered so far in Mingo County. He said that he was going to discharge them, and he called them by very abusive names, and put colored fellows in their places, and I – I told the colored people in justice to themselves, that they cannot afford to take those peoples places.

  “My motive for advising the people was, I am the pioneer colored man in that part of the country. I worked for two years in the mines before any more colored people went to work on that creek. Before that they had been denied the privilege of working in those mines, and since they have got well established in there, many of them had found employment there. I did not want them to make enemies of the white race by taking their places that they had been discharged from, and when I intervened in the interests of myself and my people he told me my tongue was too long, with an oath, and to get out and stay out.”

  Thus did Ingham incur the enmity of the coal operators in Mingo County. He was a Union man and a leader of the Negro people in his area. Such a man, according to coal operator psychology, had to be “taught a lesson.” Frank Ingham describes his higher education as follows:

  Majesty of the Law

  “On the morning of August 8, 1920, my wife and I left Williamson, W.Va., (McDowell County), to visit my sister who lived there. We made the trip safely, and after reaching Anawalt my wife decided to spend a while with a sister.

  “I left Anawalt on August 10, 1920, for Williamson, W.Va. I had to change trains at Welch, W. Va., from the Tug Fork branch. This I did about 3:30p.m.

  “Just as train No. 1 came into the station I was arrested by a Mr. Collins, a prohibition officer, who searched me in front of the station, marched me to the station where he was joined by Ed Johnson, a deputy sheriff, and a Mr. Crider, a deputy sheriff and a prohibition officer. These men said, “We should not put this d—— in jail, but should riddle his body with bullets here on the street.” Whereupon I asked, ‘Gentlemen, what is you charge against me?’ Their reply was, ‘Move on, open your mouth and we will blow your brains out.’ They marched me on to the jail, stopping in the jail office, they searched me and my belongings, which consisted of my clothing, traveling bag and other papers. I was then taken down on the lower floor of Welch jail where there was no other prisoner. About 30 minutes later the high sheriff, S.A. Daniels, came down, and I asked, ‘Sheriff, could I see Lawyer Joe Crockett? He knows me and may be able to tell me why I am detained. ‘ Daniels replied, with an oath, that he would not let me see anyone. Then I asked if I could get a message back to Anawalt to my wife that she may know that I am detained at Welch. The sheriff replied, ‘The only message that you can get out of here to anyone will be to God and unless you hurry you will fail in that.’ Then others came down and all held a whispered conversation, and went out.

  Smuggles Word Outside

  “I then called to the prisoners above, and
said to them. ‘I believe they are planning to mob me.’ These prisoners did not share my opinion, saying, ‘They have had other Union men in here and did not let them talk to anyone or see anyone but kept them a while and turned them out.’ I then told them that I did not believe the officers would treat me that way, adding that about midnight I thought they would take me out and mob me, but if I could get word out, that someone would come to my relief. The prisoners said that if I had a dollar they would smuggle a letter to the post office for me. I told them I had no paper or envelopes, after which they reached down a writing tablet, envelopes and pencil. I then wrote a letter to Mr. C.H. Workman, Williamson. W. Va., telling him that I was in Welch jail, McDowell County, and that the authorities there would not allow me to see a lawyer or anyone, and to please come or send someone to my rescue. I handed this letter up to the prisoner, and he called a lady, and asked her if she would mail it, and after she went out he called to me saying ‘Your letter is gone to the post office.’ I paid this prisoner one dollar.

  “At midnight the sheriff, S.A. Daniels, came down and said, ‘Get up and come up in the office, there is some men that want to talk with you. ‘ I did so and found seven men in the office, and two automobiles standing outside in front of the office.

  “The officers pointed to the front car and said to me, ‘Get in that car, some men down the road wanted me to make a statement.’ I said to them, ‘Gentlemen, this is an unusual hour to take a prisoner out of jail and carry him down the road to make a statement, whatever this statement is. I would prefer to make it here.’ Whereupon Officer Crider struck me on the head with an iron club and drew a pair of suspenders from his coat pocket and twisted them around my wrists. Then the officers picked me up and shoved me into the automobile, three of them getting in the auto with me and four in the rear car. They then drove off westward to about a mile and one-half between Welch and Hemphill. Here they stopped in a strip of woods and pulled me out of the car and dragged me about one hundred yards from the road into the woods. Then they began beating me over the head and back with clubs. This they continued to do so long as they thought there was life in me. Then they drew away from me and stood talking for a while among themselves. Then Edward Johnson, a deputy sheriff under S.A. Daniels, came back to me and kicked me in the face and took from my pockets my purse containing twenty-five dollars and seven cents, a receipt from R.H. Campbell and one from Dentist Amburgy. Then he left me and joined the six men, all going out to the road, got in their cars and drove back toward Welch.