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The Panama Canal

Chapter 31: CHAPTER XIII
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About This Book

The text provides a layperson-focused account of the planning, diplomacy, construction, and operation of the interoceanic canal at Panama, explaining key engineering works such as Gatun Dam, the lock systems, and the Culebra Cut, and describing the Panama Railroad, sanitation measures, workforce composition, daily life on the Zone, and administrative organization. It recounts earlier isthmian efforts and controversies over route selection and relations with neighboring states, outlines fortifications, toll-setting, traffic handling, and operating arrangements, and surveys anticipated commercial effects. Construction chapters were reviewed by the chief engineer and the volume is illustrated with official photographs and maps.

Under former commissions the Governor of the Canal Zone had ranked above the chief engineer, and the chairman, the chief engineer, and the governor had had rival powers, which resulted in a great deal of friction. Under the new order the offices of chairman and chief engineer were consolidated, and the governor was reduced to the title of "head of the Department of Civil Administration," reporting to the chairman, as did the chief sanitary officer and all of the division engineers.

This commission, in personnel, remained intact during the long period of construction, except for the resignation in 1908 of Jackson Smith, who was succeeded by Lieut. Col. Harry F. Hodges; and for the resignation in 1910 of Mr. Blackburn, who was succeeded by Morris H. Thatcher. Mr. Thatcher, in turn, was succeeded in 1913 by Richard L. Metcalfe as head of the Department of Civil Administration.

During the construction period there were several rearrangements of the duties of the Army engineers associated with Colonel Goethals. From June, 1908, Major Gaillard, afterwards promoted to a lieutenant-colonelcy, was in charge of the ditch-digging work between Gatun and Pedro Miguel, which included the entire Gatun Lake and Culebra Cut sections. It is everywhere admitted that so far as difficulties were concerned, he had the hardest job on the Isthmus, next to the chief engineer. Colonel Gaillard entered the United States Military Academy in 1884 and was graduated with honors entitling him to appointment in the Corps of Engineers. Before being selected as a member of the Canal Commission, he had had much experience in important work. For two years he was in charge of all river and harbor improvement in the Lake Superior region. When he first went to the Isthmus he was assigned as the supervising engineer in charge of harbors, the building of breakwaters, etc.

Lieut. Col. William L. Sibert, another of the Army engineers who was made a member of the Canal Commission, was graduated from West Point in 1884 and was made a lieutenant of engineers. From 1892 to 1894 he was assistant engineer in charge of the construction of the ship channel connecting the Great Lakes. The four years following he was in charge of the river and harbor work in Arkansas, and following that, spent one year teaching civil engineering in the Engineering School of Application. He then went to the Philippines as chief engineer of the Eighth Army Corps and became chief engineer and general manager of the Manila & Dagupan Railroad. From 1900 to 1907 he was in charge of the Ohio River improvements between Pittsburgh and Louisville. As division engineer of the Atlantic division of the Panama Canal he was in charge of the construction of the Gatun locks, Gatun Dam, and the breakwaters at the Atlantic entrance to the canal.

Civil Engineer Harry H. Rousseau, of the United States Navy, was appointed a member of the Isthmian Canal Commission at the same time that Chief Engineer Goethals was selected to head the organization. He had had much experience in engineering work prior to the appointment and was a personal appointee of President Roosevelt, with whom he had come in contact when he was serving in the Bureau of Yards and Docks of the Navy Department when Mr. Roosevelt was assistant secretary of that Department. He entered the employ of the United States through the civil service, having been appointed a civil engineer in the Navy with the rank of lieutenant, after a competitive examination in 1898. For four years he was an engineer of the bureau of which he afterwards became chief, and for four years following, from 1903 to 1907, he was engineer of the improvements of Mare Island Navy Yard, California. The duties of Commissioner Rousseau were changed from time to time, and he was finally given charge of the work of constructing the terminals at the ends of the canal. At the same time he was made assistant to the chief engineer, having charge of all mechanical questions arising on the canal.

When Jackson Smith, one of the two civilian members of the Canal Commission, resigned, he was succeeded by an Army officer, Col. Harry F. Hodges, who would have been a member of the commission from the first, upon the request of Colonel Goethals, had not the United States Engineer Corps required his services. Colonel Hodges was graduated from the United States Military Academy in 1881, and immediately entered upon seven years of duty on river and harbor improvements in the United States. This was followed by four years' service as assistant professor of engineering at West Point, and that duty, in turn, by six years of work on rivers and harbors and fortifications. During the Spanish American War he served in Porto Rico, and then returned to river and harbor duty for two years. In 1901-02 he was chief engineer of the Department of Cuba, from which duty he was transferred to the War Department, where he became assistant to the chief of engineers. His experience in river and harbor work, coupled with his success as the designer of the locks of the American Sault Ste. Marie Canal, fitted him for the work at Panama. He became assistant chief engineer and purchasing agent of the canal in 1907, and the following year was chosen a member of the commission to succeed Mr. Smith. The work of designing the locks and the lock machinery fell upon his shoulders.

When President Roosevelt wanted a man to handle the delicate problems arising out of the peculiar relations with the Republic of Panama and the United States, he selected Joseph C. S. Blackburn, of Kentucky, who had just finished a long term of service in the United States Senate. Senator Blackburn was well equipped for such a position, combining that suavity indicated by the velvet glove with that determination of purpose which lies in the iron hand.

The service of Col. William C. Gorgas, the chief sanitary officer on the Isthmus, began earlier than that of any of the higher officials. He went to the Isthmus immediately after it was taken over by the United States. He has been described as a man "with a gentle manner, but with a hard policy toward the mosquito." He was born in Mobile, Ala., in 1854, the son of Gen. Josiah Gorgas, of the Confederate Army. He became a member of the Medical Corps of the United States Army in 1880, and since his work at the head of the Cuban health campaign his name has been a household word in the United States.

In establishing the Isthmian Canal Commission, which was destined to make the Panama Canal a reality, President Roosevelt selected Joseph Bucklin Bishop as its secretary. Mr. Bishop was made the editor of the Canal Record, a weekly paper which was the official organ of the Canal Commission. He is a born investigator and when any matter arose concerning the work on the canal, about which the chief engineer desired an impartial report, he usually referred it to Mr. Bishop.

When the matter of organizing the work arose it was decided to arouse a spirit of emulation and rivalry, and S. B. Williamson, a civilian engineer, was put in charge of the Pacific end of the canal, with duties similar to those of the Army engineer on the Atlantic side. Mr. Williamson proved to be a master of the art of accomplishing a great deal with a given amount of money, and the cost sheets of the Pacific end will ever stand as a monument to his efficiency.

The list of engineers and other officials who contributed to the success of the work at Panama is a long one, but among them may be mentioned: Col. Chester Harding, who was the resident engineer at Gatun; W. G. Comber, who headed the dredging work on the Pacific end of the canal during the early days of the American undertaking, of the entire canal during the final stages; W. G. Rourke, who was resident engineer in Culebra Cut for a number of years; Caleb M. Saville, who worked out the data for the construction of the Gatun Dam; H. O. Cole, who succeeded S. B. Williamson on the Pacific end work; Lieut. Frederick Mears, who relocated the Panama Railroad; John Burke, who had charge of the commissary; Maj. Eugene T. Wilson, the chief subsistence officer; Brig. Gen. C. A. Devol, who was in charge of the quartermaster's department; E. J. Williams, Jr., the disbursing officer; and Col. Tom F. Cook, the picturesque chief of the Division of Posts and Customs.

To all these, and to scores of others who are not mentioned here merely because of the limitations of space, the American people owe the great success at Panama. The organization was imbued with a spirit of loyalty to the great task, and having its accomplishment singly in mind there was little room for jealous bickerings and none at all for scandal and corruption.

Every man who had a part in it always will be proud of his share, and that pride will be supported and justified by all Americans.


CHAPTER XII

THE AMERICAN WORKERS

The directory, supervisory, and mechanical work in constructing the canal was done by Americans. The engineers, the foremen, the steam shovelers, the operators of spoil trains, the concrete mixers, and, in short, the skilled workers were American citizens; the common and unskilled laborers were West Indians and Europeans. It is to the American workers therefore that the credit is due, for without their direction and aid in every operation the work could not have been done.

Never was there a more loyal, a more earnest, a more enthusiastic band of workmen than these same Americans. The steam shoveler felt as much pride, as much responsibility, in the task as did the chief engineer.

The difficulties under which they labored, the enervating climate, the absence from home, the lack of diversion and recreation, but served to temper the steel in their make-up. The American spirit was there, dominating every detail of the whole big job. Every man was determined to "make good," not for himself alone, but for the organization of which he was a part, and for his country.

In the beginning conditions were bad. There were few conveniences to make life comfortable, and innumerable inconveniences harassing those who went there. The food was bad and the water was not as good as the food. The quarters were old French houses rescued from the jungle and filled with scorpions.

The result was that few of those who first went to the Isthmus remained, and those who returned to the United States spread far and wide reports of bad conditions on the Isthmus.

With this situation in mind the Canal Commission decided that two things had to be done. Wholesome living conditions had to be created for the people who came to the Isthmus, and a standard of wages had to be set that would prove attractive to good men at home. It was thus that the pay for the Americans on the canal came to be placed at 50 per cent higher than pay for the same character of work in the States. This soon proved a strong incentive to men to leave the States and go to Panama, and as living conditions were improved the number of men willing to accept work on the Isthmus increased.

Two classes of Americans turned their faces toward the Tropics as a result of the inducements held out by the Canal Commission. One was made up of those who were willing to go and stay a year or two, accumulating in that time experience and, perhaps, saving some little money; the other was made up of men whose desire was to go to the Isthmus and stay with the job, utilizing the opportunities it afforded for building up a comfortable bank account.

As the work moved forward those of weak purpose and indifference to opportunity gradually dropped out. Their places were taken by others, until through a process of years of elimination there were approximately 5,000 Americans at Panama when the canal was finished; an army was made up almost wholly of men with a purpose in life and consequently of men who could be relied upon to do their work to the best of their ability. The result was that the last years of the task of construction saw every man loyal to his work and anxious to see the job move forward.

American visitors to the Isthmus had occasion to be proud of their countrymen there. Every tourist from a foreign country has commented upon the distinguished courtesy received at the hands of these men. One of them, perhaps England's most noted travel lecturer, said:

"The thing which impressed me more than anything else, outside of the gigantic work and the masterful way in which it is being done, was the exquisite courtesy of every American I met during my stay. I found every one of them not only ready to give such information as he might have but glad to do so. Each man was as proud of the work as if it were his own, and as ready to show his part of it to a stranger as if that stranger were his best friend. It was a delight to me from beginning to end to see the magnificent type of American manhood at work, and the pride taken by every worker in the project."

Every other tourist brought away the same impression. A man who went there without any other credentials than a desire to see the work was shown the same courtesy and consideration as one with a pocketful of letters of introduction.

The Americans on the Isthmus did not count any hardship too great if it were demanded for the successful prosecution of the work. A case in point is that of J. A. Loulan, the engineer in charge of the rock-crushing plant at Ancon. One morning he was introduced to a visitor from the States who remarked that everything seemed to be running so smoothly that he supposed the work of a supervising engineer was no longer a difficult task. "Well," replied the engineer, "at least it does not pay to worry. Last night at 2 o'clock I was called out of bed by telephone and informed that a Jamaican negro hostler had accidentally knocked the chock from under the wheels of an engine he was firing up, and that it had run down the grade and off the end of the track into about two feet of soft earth. We worked from that time on until breakfast to get the engine back, and were satisfied to know that the accident did not delay the operations at the crusher. Not a man of the force was late getting back to work after four hours of strenuous extra night duty."

Speaking of the patience of the men Commissioner H. H. Rousseau said, "The reason for all this is not far to seek; the man who has 'nerves' would never stick it out on a job like this. The climate, the exile from home, and the character of the work all conspire against the man who can not be patient. He soon finds that the Isthmus is no place for him. The result is that a process of elimination has gone on until the men who have 'nerves' have all left and their places filled with those who are stoical enough to take things as they come."

The Americans on the Isthmus were early risers. The first train from Colon for Panama leaves about 5 o'clock and the first train from Panama for Colon at 6:50. Almost any morning during the construction period one might walk into the dining room at the Tivoli Hotel and see a number of canal engineers breakfasting there who had left Colon on the early train. When one of them was asked if he did not find it something of a hardship to rise so early, he replied:

"Well, you see, from the standpoint of a man just from the States it would seem rather an unheard-of hour for a man to get out and go to work; but we have to meet conditions as we find them down here, and we soon get reconciled to it. There is scarcely a night that I am not called by telephone two or three times, and I have to get up in time to catch the early train several mornings in the week, so I get up at the same hour the other mornings as well. We are well paid, and we owe it to our country to make whatever sacrifices the work demands. And after a month or two we get out of the habit of feeling that it is a sacrifice."

It is this spirit of devotion to the work that enabled the canal authorities to press it to a successful completion with such unprecedented rapidity. These men knew full well that their sacrifices in the interest of progress were appreciated. The most rigid spirit of friendly competition was maintained from the beginning.

The spirit of rivalry nowhere counted for more than among the steam-shovel men. In 1907 it was decided to publish in the Canal Record the best steam-shovel performances from week to week. This immediately put every steam-shovel gang on its mettle, and soon there was a great race with nearly a hundred entries, a race that continued from that day until the completion of the excavation. The result was that records of steam-shovel performances were made eclipsing everything that had gone before. The average daily excavation per shovel rose from year to year until it was double in the end what it was in the beginning.

As heretofore pointed out, the process of elimination that went on continuously during the construction work sent large numbers of American workers back to the States from the Isthmus. During a single year about three-fifths of the Americans threw up their jobs and returned home. The average stay of Americans during the construction period was about a year. Bachelors were much more given to returning to the States than married men. The endless round of working, eating, sleeping, with its small chance of diversion, made the average bachelor glad to get back to the States within two years. On the other hand, the married men found home life just about as pleasant as in the States. They had with them about 2,000 women, and as many children. Many of the latter were born under the American Eagle at Panama.

The boys who were born there may, if they choose, become native Panamans. The son of a former President of Panama, in talking with Commissioner Rousseau, advised him to make a Panaman citizen of little Harry Harwood Rousseau, Jr. "You see," said he, and he spoke in all earnestness and seriousness, "he will stand so much better chance of becoming President of the Republic of Panama than of becoming President of the United States."

The American children on the Zone, brimming over with life and health, proved conclusively that the Tropics worked no hardship upon them.

The Canal Commission, from the beginning to the end, made the welfare of the army of workers one of its first cares. As the days of a completed canal approached, every effort was made to enable the employees who had to be laid off to find employment in the States. Provision was made that they could accumulate their leave of absence in such a way as to entitle them to 84 days of full pay after leaving. This was arranged so as to give them sufficient time to establish connections in the States again, without being forced to do it without pay.

Close records also were kept of each employee, and the official immediately over each man was ordered to give him a rating card showing his record on the Canal Zone. No higher credentials could be carried by anyone seeking employment than to have a card from the Canal Commission showing a rating of "Excellent."

Owing to the firmness with which the commission ruled, there was little trouble in the way of strikes. In 1910 a lot of boiler makers who were getting 65 cents an hour on the per diem basis, struck for 75 cents an hour. Their demands were not met and some of them threw up their jobs. The commission immediately arranged with its Washington office to fill their places, and they had no chance whatever to get further employment on the Isthmus.

The commission was given the power, by President Roosevelt, to order anyone to leave the Isthmus whose presence there was regarded as a detriment to the work. The result was that as soon as any man was found to be fomenting trouble, he was advised that a ship was returning to the United States on a certain date and that it would be expedient for him to take passage thereon. This power of deportation was more autocratic than any like power in the United States, but it proved of immense value in keeping things going satisfactorily at Panama. It was a power whose exercise was called for but few times, since the very fact that the commission had the power was usually a sufficient deterrent.

There are two societies on the Isthmus which tell of the effects of homesickness of the Americans in the employ of the Canal Commission—the Incas, and the Society of the Chagres. The Incas are a group of men who meet annually on May 4th for a dinner. The one requirement for membership in this dining club is service on the canal from the beginning of the American occupation. In 1913 about 60 men were left on the Isthmus of all those Americans who were there at the time of the transfer of the canal property to the United States in 1904.

The Society of the Chagres was organized in the fall of 1911. It is made up of American white employees who have worked six years continuously on the canal. When President Roosevelt visited the Isthmus in the late fall of 1906 he declared that he intended to provide some memorial or badge which would always distinguish the man who for a certain space of time had done his work well on the Isthmus, just as the button of the Grand Army distinguishes the man who did his work well in the Civil War. Two years later a ton of copper, bronze, and tin was taken from old French locomotives and excavators and shipped to Philadelphia, where it was made into medals by the United States Mint. These medals are about the size of a dollar and each person who has served two years is entitled to one. It is estimated that by the time the last work is done on the canal, about 6,000 of these medals will have been distributed. For each additional two years a man worked, the Canal Commission gave a bar of the same material.

The Society of the Chagres, therefore, is made up of men who have served at least six years, and who have won their medals and two service bars. The emblem of the society is a circular button showing on a small, black background six horizontal bars in gold which are surrounded by a narrow gold border. In 1913 only about 400 out of the many thousands of Americans at one time or another employed in the construction of the Panama Canal were entitled to wear the insignia of this society.


CHAPTER XIII

THE NEGRO WORKERS

The West Indian negro contributed about 60 per cent of the brawn required to build the Panama Canal. When the United States undertook the work the West Indian negro had a bad reputation as a workman. It was said that he lacked physical strength; that he had little or no pluck; that he was absolutely unreliable; that he was unusually susceptible to disease; and that in view of these things the canal never could be finished if he were to supply the greater part of the labor. But he lived down this bad reputation in large part, and, although it must be admitted that he is shiftless always, inconstant frequently, and exasperating as a rule, he developed into a good workman.

The Government paid the West Indian laborer 90 cents a day, furnished him with free lodgings in quarters, and sold him three square meals a day for 9 cents each, a total of 27 cents a day for board and lodging. On the balance of 63 cents, the West Indian negro who saved was able to go back home and become a sort of Rockefeller among his compatriots. His possible savings, as a matter of fact, were about two and a half times the total wages he received in his native country.

But the sanitary quarters, and the necessarily strict discipline maintained therein, did not please him. He yearned for his thatched hut in the "bush," for his family, and the freedom of the tropical world. Thus the homesickness of the well-quartered, well-fed negro became a greater hindrance to the work than the ill-fed condition of the "bush dweller." The result was that the commission reached the conclusion that it could better maintain a suitable force by allowing the negroes to live as they chose. Therefore, permission was given them to live in the "bush," and about nine-tenths of them promptly exchanged the sanitary restrictions of the commission quarters, and the wholesome food of the commission mess kitchen, for the dolce far niente of the "bush." The result of this experiment in larger liberty was in part a success and in part a failure. The list of names on the roll of workers was largely lengthened, but there was no great addition to the force of the men at work on any given day. It was a common saying in the Zone that if the negro were paid twice as much he would work only half as long. Most of them worked about four days a week and enjoyed themselves the other three. It may be that the "bush dweller" was not fed as scientifically as the man in the quarters, but he had his chickens, his yam and bean patch, his family and his fiddle, and he made up in enjoyment what he lost in scientific care.

Marriage bonds are loose in the West Indies, and common-law marriages are the rule rather than the exception. But, as one traveled across the Isthmus and saw the hundreds of little thatched huts lining the edge of the jungle, he could see that the families who lived there seemed to be as happy, and the children as numerous, as though both civil and religious marriage ceremonies had bound man and wife together.

When the Americans first began work it was an accepted dictum that one Spaniard or one Italian could do as much work as three negroes. The negroes seemed to be weak. It took six of them to carry a railroad tie where two Spaniards might carry it as well. This belief that the Spaniard was more efficient than the negro stirred the West Indians to get down to work, and in a year or two they were almost as efficient while they were working as were the Spaniards, but the Spaniards worked six days a week while the negroes worked only four.

Of course there were those who spent practically everything as they made it, and they constituted no small percentage of the total negro force. But, on the other hand, some of the negroes were industrious, constant, and thrifty. They saved all they could, working steadily for a year or two, and then went back to Jamaica or Barbados to invest their money in a bit of land and become freeholders and consequently better citizens.

The negro laborers at first were obtained by recruiting agents at work in the various West Indian Islands, principally Jamaica and Barbados. The recruiting service carried about 30,000 to the Isthmus, of whom 20,000 were from Barbados and 6,000 from Jamaica. It was not more than a year or two, however, after the work got under way, until there was little occasion for recruiting. Every ship that went back to Barbados or to Jamaica carried with it some who had made what they considered a sufficient fortune. Every community possessed those who had gone to Panama with only the clothes on their backs, a small tin trunk, a dollar canvas steamer chair and, mayhap, a few chickens; and who had come back with savings enough to set them up for life. This fired dozens from each of those same communities with the desire to go and do likewise. The result was that the canal employment lists were kept full by those who came on their own initiative.

The terms of entrance to the Canal Zone were easy, the steerage fares were low, and as a result the excess of arrivals over departures sometimes amounted to 20,000 in a single year. The steamship companies had to keep careful and persistent watch to prevent stowaways. Even at that there were hundreds who sought to reach the Isthmus in this way in spite of the fact that they were usually carried back without being permitted to land at Colon.

There was little or no friction between the whites and the blacks on the Canal Zone. This immunity from racial clashes resulted from two causes—one was the incomparable courtesy of the West Indian negro and the other his knowledge that he could expect good treatment only so long as he kept out of trouble. Few of them, indeed, were ever inclined to be offensive. They are usually educated in the three "R's," and are also very polite. Ask one a question and the answer will be: "Oh, yes, Sir," or "Oh, no, Sir," or if he has not understood, "Beg pardon, Sir." He would no more omit the honorific than a Japanese maiden addressing her father would forget to call him "Honorable."

The different types of West Indian negroes found on the Canal Zone constituted an endless study in human characteristics. They were all great lovers of travel, and no regular train ever made a trip without from two to half a dozen coaches filled with them. After pay day practically every negro on the Zone was wont to get out and get a glimpse of the country.

Without exception they are adepts in carrying things on their heads; consequently, they usually possess an erect carriage and splendid bearing. It is said that the first ambition of a West Indian negro child is to learn to carry things on its head in imitation of its parents. Frequently a negro will be seen with nothing in either hand, but carrying a closed umbrella balanced horizontally on his head. Once in a while one may be seen to get a letter from the post office, place it on top of his head, weight it down with a stone, and march off without any apparent knowledge that he has executed a circus stunt.

Some of the negroes who came to work on the canal never saw a wheelbarrow before arriving there. Upon one occasion some French negroes from Martinique were placed on a job of pick and shovel work. Three of them loaded a wheelbarrow with earth, then one of them stooped down, the other two put the wheelbarrow on his head and he walked away with it. But, with all of his inexperience, the Martinique negro proved to be the best West Indian worker on the canal.

The Martinique negroes were the most picturesque of all the West Indians on the job. The women wore striking though simple costumes, bandana handkerchiefs around their heads, and bright-colored calico dresses usually caught up on one side or at the back, thus anticipating the Parisian fashion of the slit skirt by many years.

A large number of the negroes lived in small tenement houses built by private capital, and oftener than not one room served the entire family. Nearly every one of the American settlements had its West Indian quarter where these buildings and the Chinese stores flourished to the exclusion of everything else. At the Pacific end of the Panama Railroad there was a suburb known as Caledonia, which was given over almost entirely to West Indian families. One could drive through there any day and see half-grown children dressed only in Eden's garb. In other parts of the canal territory one saw very few naked children except in the back streets of Colon.

The Government took the best of care of the negroes on the work during the entire construction period. There were hospital facilities at both ends of the canal and sick camps along the line. The commissary protected them against extortion by the native merchants and gave them the same favorable rates enjoyed by the Americans. The color line was kindly but firmly drawn throughout the work, the negroes being designated as silver employees and the Americans as gold employees. The post offices had signs indicating which entrances were for silver employees and which for gold employees. The commissaries had the same provisions, and the railroad company made the general distinction as much as it could by first and second class passenger rates. Very few of the negroes ever made any protest against this. Once in awhile an American negro would go to the post office and be told that he must call at the "silver" window. He would protest for awhile, but finding it useless, would acquiesce.

The idea of speaking of "silver and gold employees," rather than black and white employees, was originated by E. J. Williams, Jr., the disbursing officer of the Canal Commission. He first put this designation on the entrances to the pay car and it was immediately adopted as the solution of the troubles growing out of the intermingling of the races.

One of the most interesting experiences that could come to any visitor to the Isthmus was a trip across the Zone on the pay car; to see 24 tons of silver and 1,600 pounds of gold paid out for a single month's work; and to watch the 30,000 negroes, the 5,000 Americans, and the 3,000 or 4,000 Europeans on the job file through the pay car and get their money. The negroes were usually a good-natured, grinning lot of men and boys, but they were wont to get impatient, not with the amount of money they drew but with its weight. Under an agreement with the Panama Government the Canal Commission endeavored to keep the Panaman silver money at par. Two dollars Panaman money was worth one dollar American, and the employees were paid in Panaman coin. Thus a negro who earned $22 during the month would get 44 of the "spiggoty" dollars. These "spiggoty" dollars are the same size as our own silver dollars and to carry them around was something of a task.

When the negroes were asked what they proposed to do with their money the almost invariable reply was: "Put it to a good use, sir." American money was always at a premium with them and the money-changers in the various towns usually did a land-office business on pay day.

Paper money was not used on the pay car at all. In the first place, there was always danger of its blowing away, and in the second place paper money in the hands of negro workmen soon assumed a most unsanitary condition. The negroes were always desirous of getting American paper money because they could send it home more cheaply than gold.

Large numbers of West Indian women, the majority of them with their relatives, lived on the Zone during the construction period. They were for the most part industrious and made very good household servants. They were nearly always polite and deferential, some of them even saying, "Please, Ma'am," when saying "Good morning."

It was a rare experience to travel on a ship carrying workers to the Canal Zone from the Islands of the West Indies. Ships calling at Kingston, Jamaica, would usually take on a hundred or more passengers. They would be quartered either forward or aft on the main deck. They would carry aboard with them all kinds of small packages. Some would have small boxes of chickens or pigeons, and some little old sawbuck-fashioned folding beds covered with canvas. As soon as inspected by the doctor for trachoma each negro would select the most favorable spot, gather his furniture around him, and settle down in one place, there to remain almost without moving during the whole of the 40-hour trip across the Caribbean. When the water was fine and the sailing smooth the first cabin passengers might conclude that they were carrying a negro camp meeting. On the other hand, if the weather were bad and the sea rough, a sicker lot of people nowhere might be found. One of the favorite negro preventives of seasickness is St. Thomas bay rum applied liberally to the face, although to the on-looker it never seems to prevent or cure a single case.

Before landing at Colon every one of these negroes had to be vaccinated. Almost without exception they tried to prevent the virus "taking" by rubbing the scarified spot with lime juice or with some other preparation. Meals on board generally consisted of rice and potatoes, and, perhaps, coffee and bread. One might see a dozen young girls in a group eating with one hand and with the other polishing their complexions with the half of a lime.

With all his faults—and they were not few—the West Indian negro laborer probably was the best workman that could have been employed for the job at Panama. He was usually as irresponsible, as carefree, and yet as reliable a workman as our own American cottonfield hand. He made a law-abiding citizen on the Zone, was tractable as a workman, and pretty certain always to make a fair return to the United States on the money it paid him in wages.

Under the firm but gentle guidance of the master American hand, he did his work so well that he has forever erased from the record of his kind certain charges of inefficiency and laziness that had long stood as a black mark against him.

The Canal Commission so appreciated his good work that it made arrangements to return him to his native country when his services no longer were required, there to take up the life he led before he heard the call of the "spiggoty" dollars that took him across the Caribbean.

He will miss the life on the Isthmus. He was worked harder, he was treated better, and he was paid higher wages there than he ever will be again in his life. Perhaps he has saved; if so, he retires to be a nabob. Perhaps he has wasted; if so, he must go back to the hand-to-mouth existence that he knew in the days before.

But after all, the experience of the thousands of West Indian negroes employed on the canal will have a stimulating effect on their home countries, and their general level of industrial and social conditions will be raised.

At any rate, the American Republic always must stand indebted to these easy-going, care-free black men who supplied the brawn to break the giant back of Culebra.


CHAPTER XIV

THE COMMISSARY

To build the canal required the labor of some fifty thousand men. To induce these men to go to Panama, to stay there, to work there, and to work there efficiently, was no light undertaking. Health was promised them by the most efficient sanitary organization that ever battled with disease. Wealth was promised them, relatively speaking, in the form of wages and salaries much higher than they could obtain at home for the same work. But health and wealth, much desired and much prized as they are, can not of themselves compensate for transplanting a man to an alien shore and an alien atmosphere, especially if that shore be tropic and that atmosphere hot. There must also be comfort.

And comfort was promised to the canal diggers by the commissary department. Good food at prices cheaper than one pays in the United States, and quarters of the best—these things the commissary held out as a part of the rewards at Panama.

Of course this was not the chief object of the commissary department—it was the incidental factor that in the end almost obscured the main issue. The main business was so well done that everybody took it for granted, just as no one will remark about the sun shining although that is the most important fact we know. The main business of the commissary was to keep the canal diggers fed and housed so that they would have the strength for their tasks. How this was done, how fresh beef and ice cream were made daily staples in tropic Panama, how the canal army was fed, is a big story in itself.

The history of the French régime was such as to prejudice the whole world against the canal region and to deter any but the most adventurous spirit from entering there into a gamble with death. The Americans soon found that without extraordinary inducements it would be next to impossible to recruit a force able to build the canal. Therefore it was determined to make the rewards so great that extra dollars to be gained by going to Panama would outweigh the fears of those who had any desire to go. It was decided to pay the employees of the Canal Commission and the Panama Railroad Company wages and salaries approximately one-half higher than those obtaining at home for the same work. Furthermore, it was decided that the Government should furnish free quarters, free medical service, free light, and other items which enter into the expense budget of the average family. It was found advisable to establish Government hotels, messes, and kitchens, where the needs of every employee from the highest officer to the most lowly negro laborer could be met, and to operate them at cost.

Still another problem had to be faced; that of providing places where the people employed in building the canal could escape from the high prices fixed by the merchants of Panama and Colon. With this end in view, a great department store, carrying upward of 5,000 different articles, was built at Cristobal. This store established branches in every settlement of canal workers where patrons could go to ship and receive the benefit of prices much lower than those prevailing with regular Panaman merchants.

Anyone who will study carefully the annual reports of the operation of the commissary of the Panama Railroad Company, will realize what great profits are made by the various middlemen in the United States who handle food products between the producer and the consumer. In 1912 the commissary had gross sales amounting to $6,702,000, with purchases amounting to $5,325,000. This represents a gross profit of 26 per cent. The cost of transportation from New York and distribution on the Isthmus, amounted to about 24 per cent, leaving a net profit of approximately 2 per cent on the sales of goods. When it is remembered that transportation of commissary products from New York amounted approximately to a quarter of a million dollars a year, and that wagon deliveries on the Isthmus added $50,000 a year to this, it will be seen that the expenses of distribution at Panama were approximately on the same footing with those in the United States.

In the case of dressed beef, one finds a most illuminating example of how it is possible to sell the ordinary items of a family budget to the consumer at rates much lower than those obtaining in the United States. According to the most authentic information dressed beef laid down at Panama costs more, quality for quality, than it costs the ordinary retail butcher in the States. At one time in 1912 the commissary was paying $11.9414 a hundred pounds for whole dressed beeves laid down in New York. This was for the best corn-fed western steers, a grade of beef that is found only in the best retail butcher shops of any American city. Yet, with the expense of ocean-refrigerator carriage added, and with other operating costs equal to those of the retail butcher in the States, the commissary found it possible to sell to the consumer, delivered at his kitchen door, porterhouse steaks from this beef at 20 cents, sirloin steaks and roasts at 19 cents, and round steaks at 13 cents a pound. At this same time the average American housewife was paying from 26 to 30 cents for porterhouse steaks, from 22 to 26 cents for sirloin steaks and roasts, and from 17 to 22 cents for round steaks; and in the butcher shops in the United States where grades of meat comparable to those at Panama were handled the figures were usually around the top quotations.

One cannot escape asking the question how it is that if the Panama Railroad commissary could pay approximately 12 cents a pound for dressed beef at New York, deliver it in refrigeration at Cristobal, thence to the housewife by train and wagon, and make a gross profit of some 26 per cent by the operation, that the American retail butcher can reasonably claim that at the price he sells his meat he is making little or no net profit.

One finds the same scale of prices on other commodities at Panama as meats. Only the very best goods are handled in the commissary. Any reasonable need of any employee could be supplied by the commissary at prices probably lower than a retail merchant in the United States could buy the same commodities.

A few instances of how the commissary fared when its supply ran short will serve to illustrate the grasping disposition of the average Panaman merchant.

In one case high waters in the Chagres interrupted traffic on the Panama Railroad, and the price of ice in Panama City promptly jumped from 50 cents to $1 a hundred pounds. At another time a ship bringing coffee to the Isthmus ran aground and the commissary had to buy coffee in the Panama market. It had to pay 6 cents a pound more at wholesale for the coffee than it was selling for at retail in Panama the day before the ship went aground. On another occasion a vessel carrying a supply of milk went ashore and the wholesale price of that commodity jumped a hundred per cent overnight. The Panaman merchants made a long and persistent fight to get the privilege of doing the business which is done by the commissary, but the canal officials were too wise to allow the working force to be dependent upon native business men for family budget needs.

Although the commissary did an annual business of nearly $7,000,000 a year during the height of the construction period, it received comparatively little actual money for the commodities it sold. A great deal of this business was with the subsistence department of the Canal Commission, furnishing supplies for the hotels, European laborers' messes, and common laborers' kitchens. Practically all of the remainder was with the employees of the commission, and was done through coupon books. When an individual wanted to buy from the commissary he asked that a coupon book be issued him. If it were found that he had sufficient money coming to him for services rendered to cover the cost of the book, it was issued to him and the clerk in the commissary detached coupons to cover the purchases. When the monthly pay roll was made up, the cost of the coupon books was deducted from the amount due the employee for services. Many employees and their families lived too far away from the commissaries to make daily visits, so they simply deposited their coupon books with the main commissary at Cristobal and sent their orders in by mail from day to day. The commissary clerks would fill these written orders, sending the goods out on the first train.

In addition to buying and selling products for the benefit of the canal workers, the commissary operated a number of manufacturing establishments. It had a bakery using some 20,000 barrels of flour, baking 6,000,000 loaves of bread and other things in proportion annually; an ice-cream plant freezing 138,000 gallons of ice-cream annually; a laundry washing 4,250,000 pieces a year; a coffee-roasting plant; and a large cold-storage warehouse. About 70,000 people were constantly supplied with commodities from the commissary.

In its efforts to meet the needs of the several classes of employees on the Canal Zone the commission established four different kinds of eating places,—a large general hotel, a score of line hotels, Spanish messes, and West Indian laborers' kitchens. At Ancon it built the large Tivoli Hotel costing half a million dollars, for the accommodation of visitors; and of those high-class employees who desired modern hotel facilities. This hotel is the social center of the Canal Zone. Here practically all of the tourists come and stay while on the Isthmus.

During the year 1912 this hotel cleared $53,000 in its operations. The cost of the supplies for the meals served, of which there were 161,000, was approximately 51 cents per meal. The cost of services was approximately 19 cents, making a total of 70 cents per meal. The rates were $3 up to $5.50 a day, employees being given special concessions.