He
now went to Colorado, and engaged in various mining schemes, but
here he was out of his sphere, and after a three years' sojourn, returned to
Chicago. His active imagination had thought out many improvements on
the cars he had previously constructed; and he had also secured capital with
which to carry out his ideas. Fitting up a shop on the Chicago and Alton
road, he constructed two coaches, at the then fabulous cost of $18,000 each.
The management of the various western roads looked upon such enterprise
as visionary. George M. Pullman, however, cared but little about their
opinion.
The Union and Pacific was then exciting much attention. He knew that on
the completion of such a road, travelers would
appreciate a car in which
they could enjoy the comforts of home for the entire tedious trip. To say
that his hopes were fully realized, would be inadequate. So popular did they
become, that his shops at Chicago could not begin to fill the demands made
upon it for his parlor, dining, and sleeping cars. Branches were started at
Detroit, St. Louis, Philadelphia, and various places in Europe.
These establishments,
of necessity, could not come under his immediate
supervision he, therefore, conceived the idea of concentrating his business
into one vast establishment, and gathered about him a force of skilled
workmen. He looked upon Chicago and its locality as the coming center of
population in the United States; but a site in that city would be far too
expensive, if indeed one could have been found sufficient for his purpose.
About twelve to fifteen miles from Chicago was a swamp: it was
considered
worthless, but it was as easy for this natural mechanic to
conceive the idea of draining this tract of land, as it was to conceive
methods to raise buildings. A very large force of men were put to work
draining; gas-pipes were laid; streets
were laid out and graded, and an
architect employed to draw the plans for the building of a whole city at
once. Gigantic work-shops were built, and a water supply brought from
Lake Michigan, miles away. Besides all this,
over fourteen hundred
beautiful homes were built before any man was asked to come to Pullman
to enter the shops. A bank was opened, a library, containing thousands of
volumes, was provided; all these things were brought about by Mr.
Pullman. He has expended several million of dollars in beautifying and
providing for the comfort and pleasure of his employes. The buildings are
not mushroom affairs, but substantial brick edifices which give this place an
appearance which will compare favorably with any city. He built a fine
hotel, and erected a beautiful church, placing a rich toned organ in it, which
alone cost $3,500. Every honest tradesman can come to Pullman. None but
liquor dealers or men who desire to keep low groggeries are excluded. No
property is sold, but if a party desires to live there he applies to the
Superintendent, and a lease is given, which can be cancelled by either party
at ten days' notice. Nothing but liquor is forbidden. A man can squander his
time, can gamble, possibly, but he cannot obtain drink; the result is, there
are no policemen. No visible form of government, save Mr. Pullman, and
yet this is a city of nearly eight thousand people.
The people are not
muddled with drink; they are promptly paid; their 'personal' rights are not
interfered with, save in respect to the selling of liquor; they are contented
and happy. Mr. Pullman has been largely identified with the Metropolitan
Railway and the Eagleton Wire Works in New York city. But the name of
Pullman is destined to long remain a synonym of philanthropy. He has
practically demonstrated the benefit of legislation against the sale of
intoxicating liquors as a beverage. He claims to have done this as a business
policy, and disclaims all honor as a philanthropist. We answer, would that
we had more men who would follow this kind of a business policy.