“This will bring an end to the strike,” I insisted. “Pullman will have to agree to talks or else none of his coaches will be carried by any train manned by ARU members and that is most of them. Certainly it is all the lines in and out of Chicago.”
We were in the makeshift clinic above the S & H Grocery where I’d found Alden and Dr. Chapman in conversation. Despite the check from the union, it was necessary to close the relief center early again for lack of stores but I was still elated by the result of the previous evening’s vote. I wanted to prove to Stephen Chapman that I was right about the ARU and how the support of that larger union was going to bring the stalemate to an end.
“I hope you are right.” He looked weary and I remembered it was only a few months since he had suffered the shotgun blast that shattered his right arm. I wondered whether he was fully recovered. The long days at the clinic were taking a toll on him. I felt guilty for arguing with him, but I also felt a spurt of joy in my heart. I was convinced that Raoul LeClerc and Eugene Debs and the ARU had come to the rescue of Pullman and soon all would be right again. I didn’t mean to gloat but, for once, I was right and he was wrong, despite my comparative lack of experience in the world.
“Emily, come to the city with me if you’re done here. There’s something you’ve got to see,” my brother told me.
“What?” I could see that, whatever it was, he had already told Stephen. “Will you come, too, Dr. Chapman?”
“I am not finished here. I’ll close up when I’m done. You should go with Alden, Emily.”
“To do what?”
“You’ll see.” Alden took my arm and led me to the coatroom. He insisted on keeping his secret. That was tiresome of him but I was in a good mood. Good enough to humor him. It was such a relief to know we were not alone in trying to sustain the striking workers. Now that they had the power of the full ARU behind them I was convinced they would succeed in reaching a just settlement.
We took the train into the city and Alden led me through the crowds. When we reached his destination I recognized the red brick of the building known as the Rookery. Inside, he led me to a light-filled central atrium. It was one of the very tall, impressive buildings that Chicago was becoming famous for.
“It’s on the eighth floor. Come on, we’ll take the elevator.”
Upstairs, the operator let us off and the door clanged shut behind us as Alden hurried down the corridor. When we stepped inside a large open room, it appeared that Alden was already well known there. A couple of dozen desks piled with papers, and several having telephones on them, were placed in rows around the room. Bells were ringing and men were talking, while one man in shirtsleeves chalked things on a board at the other end. But Alden headed for a row of glassed-in offices on the side. I followed him, getting a few curious glances from the mostly male office workers. There were only a few women here and there, mostly sitting at typing machines.
“Hello, Cabot. This your sister, then?” Alden was greeted by a rotund, balding man who was hurriedly donning his coat as we approached. He waved us into his office.
“Yes, my sister, Emily Cabot. Emily, this is Mr. Spike Morgan, general manager of the Michigan Central Railroad.”
“How do you do, Mr. Morgan.” I was a little confused. “Excuse me, but my brother has not informed me of much. What is this place?” We sat down inside the glassed-in office where we still had a view of the room full of people.
“This, Miss Cabot, is the General Managers’ Association. It is a voluntary, unincorporated association made up of twenty-four railroads centering, or terminating, in Chicago. As I have been telling your brother, here, we men of the roads have found it necessary to cooperate just as much as the men who have organized the ARU. The ARU’s members are drawn from many railroads and many different trades across the railroad business. Our organization is a cooperative on the management side, you see?”
As we were looking out towards the room, I half rose from my seat when there was a sudden movement at the doorway. It was Mr. Jennings. “So, the Pullman Company is part of your organization?” I asked.
Mr. Morgan was staring at the Pullman assistant manager with a glum look. “Not officially. It’s not a railroad and furthermore, Miss Cabot, some of us—perhaps most of us—do not approve of the way Pullman is treating his workers. No wonder they strike. No, as I have been informing your brother—so he can have the complete story to tell his readers—we don’t particularly care for Pullman. If that were the only consideration, the General Managers’ Association would not be involved. I can’t see any of us lifting a finger for Pullman.” He shrugged and turned away from the glass window. “But the ARU is a different story. Eugene Debs and his outfit are out to try to take control of one of the most vital industries in this country and we’re not going to stand by and let them do it. No, siree. Not in my lifetime.
“Look here. If Debs has his way, his group will be able to paralyze us. We can’t let that happen and we won’t let it happen. You see those men over there? They’re on the line to Baltimore where we’ve got two hundred out of work railroad men ready to step into jobs if the ARU strikes. Debs says the ARU members will refuse to hook up Pullman cars, does he? Well, we’ve got men that will. Any one of his men who refuses will be fired and replaced. They think they can take us down because the roads won’t run. But we’re ready for them. One call and a trainload of them are on the way.” He was using two fingers to point to the board where figures were chalked. “And there’ll be violence. We know it and we’re prepared for it. We can’t let them close down transportation and we won’t. You see that contraption over there? That’s a hot line directly to the White House. It’s a special telegraph line direct to President Grover Cleveland and Attorney General Richard Olney. We’ve got your brother here and other reporters from all over the country and we’re going to make sure they know the truth about what is going on, once this thing starts. And when the ARU shows its true colors, and starts destroying property and threatening lives, we are going to be sure the government does something about it.”
I was stunned. This was a far greater reaction than I ever would have imagined. “But the ARU only wants Pullman to agree to arbitration,” I protested. Suddenly, this room filled with so many powerful men was making me feel very small.
“That’s what they say, Miss Cabot, but that’s not the real story. They really plan to wreak havoc. They are dangerous men and they are planning violence even as we speak. That’s what brought Jennings here.” He pointed at the tall man from Pullman, who was talking to several others. “He’s reporting on a plan to blow up the clock tower down there. That’s the sort of people we are dealing with in the ARU, Miss Cabot. Don’t be misled by them.”
I stood up. “That may be true of some people in the ARU, Mr. Morgan, but it is not true of the men and women of Pullman. I know them and I know they have no plans to damage property or endanger lives by doing any such thing. I thank you for your time. It was a mistake for my brother to bring me here.”
“I’m sorry if I upset you, miss, but it’s good for you and the others at Hull House to know who you are supporting.” He held open the door. “I’m afraid we are in for difficult times, but it’s Debs and the ARU who are bringing it on. We’re only trying to defend ourselves and our stockholders’ investments.”
I stood up and looked out at the rows of desks. “Mr. Morgan, none of these men look undernourished. None of them have to go home to hungry children. And you say they don’t even want to support George Pullman. Even you can see he is a stubborn, arrogant man. Yet, here you all are prepared to oppose the poor workers of Pullman with all the wealth and power at your fingertips. No, I do not understand your position. I do not understand it at all.”
“I’m very sorry to hear it, miss. Good day. You’re welcome back any time, Mr. Cabot. We want to keep the press informed.”
I marched out through the desks. It was appalling. As I made my way out to the corridor, suddenly I was afraid. I could no longer count on a timely end to the problem. With this type of response in readiness, the struggle was going to continue. We would need so much more at the relief station and our supplies were coming to an end.
“Miss Cabot, I’m glad to see you. I told Dr. Chapman we will be happy to provide you with a room at the Florence Hotel.” It was Mr. Jennings, who joined us to wait for the elevator. Appalled as I was by the thought of the power of the General Managers’ Association, I looked at him with a total lack of comprehension. He seemed to realize it. “If the ARU carries out their threat and the trains stop running. Dr. Chapman came by and asked if we could accommodate you in that case. He thought you might need to stay down in Pullman if you could not get back to the city. I told him we would be happy to oblige you.”
I tried to cover the repulsion I felt at this suggestion. Dr. Chapman had already assumed the worst would happen and officiously arranged things for me. After what I had just seen, I was afraid he was right. But that only made me more angry. “It will not be necessary for me to stay at the Florence Hotel, Mr. Jennings, if Mr. Pullman will only have the common decency to meet with his own workmen. The only request is for a meeting to discuss the matter.”
“Oh, no, I’m afraid that won’t happen, Miss Cabot. Mr. Pullman has already left.”
“Left? What do you mean?”
“He and his family have gone to their summer home, in New Jersey.”