Our Arklahoma Heritage: Johnson County coal mine was ground zero in prisoner abuse controversy in late 1800's

In the shadowy depths of Arkansas’s coal seams, a brutal chapter of American labor history unfolded. During the 1880s, Johnson County emerged as the state’s coal capital, with the booming town of Coal Hill producing a staggering 80% of Arkansas’s coal output.

This industrial surge was catalyzed by the 1873 extension of the Little Rock and Fort Smith Railroad, which opened new markets and intensified demand—but also exposed a dire shortage of cheap labor.

To meet this demand, mine operators turned to a controversial solution: the convict lease system. Established in Arkansas in 1867, this system allowed private companies to lease prisoners from the state in exchange for a modest fee, effectively transforming incarceration into a profit engine.

By the early 1880s, the Arkansas Industrial Company had secured a lease for approximately 140 inmates, mostly Black men convicted under discriminatory Black Codes for minor infractions like vagrancy or petty theft. The state prison system assigned them to the Quita Coal Company in Coal Hill.

These men, transported by rail from the Arkansas State Penitentiary in Little Rock, were subjected to gruelling 12- to 18-hour shifts underground, often in unsafe conditions. They slept in overcrowded stockades on corn-shuck mattresses that were rarely changed, and were fed starvation rations.

Lessees paid the state between $9 and $18 per prisoner per month, a fraction of what free laborers earned, enabling mine owners to undercut wages and suppress union activity.

By 1886, tensions erupted. A miners’ strike revealed the appalling treatment of convict laborers: whippings for unmet quotas, disease outbreaks, and fatal beatings. One warden, J. A. Gafford, was accused of beating a prisoner named Charles Williams to death, while another convict reportedly received 400 lashes.

Citizens of Pope County demanded the removal of convicts, citing both moral outrage and economic competition.

Captain James R. Miller, a lessee, defended the practice, claiming convicts were easier to guard in mines than on farms. But public pressure mounted. A newspaper exposé prompted the Board of Penitentiary Commissioners to investigate. Their findings, dubbed the “Coal Hill horrors”, included systematic floggings, starvation, and deaths from exhaustion. Several wardens were dismissed, and temporary reforms were enacted.

Yet the system endured. Through the 1890s, newspapers condemned convict leasing as a “brute creation” and a stain on Arkansas’s conscience. Coal Hill’s output peaked in 1887–1888, reaching ten times the state average, a testament to the economic power and human cost of forced labor.

It wasn’t until 1912 that Governor George Donaghey abolished the system, replacing it with state-run prison farms. But the legacy of Coal Hill remains a stark reminder of how racial injustice and economic exploitation were baked into the foundations of Arkansas’s industrial rise.

By 1886, a miners' strike exposed brutal conditions: inmates endured whippings for missing quotas, slept on unchanged corn-shuck mattresses, and received inadequate food and clothing.  J. A. Gafford, one named warden, beat convict Charles Williams to death, while at least three others caused fatal beatings, including one case of 400 lashes. The 140 convicts shared one bunkhouse, leading to disease outbreaks.

An Arkansas Gazette exposé in March 1888 triggered a state investigation by the Board of Penitentiary Commissioners. Inspectors documented the "Coal Hill horrors," noting floggings, starvation rations, and deaths from exhaustion.

The probe led to warden dismissals and temporary reforms, but leasing continued into the 1890s amid ongoing complaints. The scandal showed how convict leasing suppressed free wages and perpetuated racial exploitation, reflecting national trends.

Governor George Donaghey ended the system in 1912, shifting to state-run farms. Coal Hill's output peaked at 10 times the state’s average in 1887–1888, but the abuses left a lasting mark on the industry’s legacy.