Finally plucking up courage—for it required a high degree of moral bravery to subject themselves and their families to the further want inevitably ensuing from a strike—the workers of the Pullman Company demanded a restoration of the old scale of wages. An arrogant refusal led to the declaration of a strike on May 11, 1894. This strike, and the greater strike following, were termed by Carroll D. Wright, for a time United States Commissioner of Labor, as "probably the most expensive and far-reaching labor controversy which can properly be classed among the historic controversies of this generation."[180] The American Railway Union, composed of the various grades of workers on a large number of railroads, declared a general sympathetic strike under the delegated leadership of Eugene V. Debs.
The strike would perhaps have been successful had it not been that the entire powers of the National Government, and those of most of the States affected, were used roughshod to crush this mighty labor uprising. The whole newspaper press, with rare exceptions, spread the most glaring falsehoods about the strike and its management. Debs was personally and venomously assailed in vituperation that has had little equal. To put the strikers in the attitude of sowing violence, the railroad corporations deliberately instigated the burning or destruction of their own cars (they were cheap, worn-out freight cars), and everywhere had thugs and roughs as its emissaries to preach, and provoke, violence.[181] The object was threefold: to throw the onus upon the strikers of being a lawless body; to give the newspapers an opportunity of inveighing with terrific effect against the strikers, and to call upon the Government for armed troops to shoot down, overawe, or in other ways thwart, the strikers.
Government was, in reality, directed by the railroad and other corporations. United States judges, at the behest of the railroad companies (which had caused them to be appointed to the Bench), issued extraordinary, unprecedented injunctions against the strikers. These injunctions even prevented the strikers from persuading fellow employees to quit work. So utterly lacking any basis in law had these injunctions that the Federal Commission reported: "It is seriously questioned, and with much force, whether the courts have jurisdiction to enjoin citizens from 'persuading' each other in industrial matters of common interest." But the injunctions were enforced. Debs and his comrades were convicted of contempt of court and, without jury trial, imprisoned at a critical juncture of the strike. And what was their offense? Nothing more than seeking to induce other workers to take up the cause of their striking fellow-workers. The judges constituted themselves as prosecuting attorney, judge and jury. Never had such high-handed judicial usurpation been witnessed. As a concluding stroke, President Cleveland ordered a detachment of the United States army to Chicago. The pretexts were that the strikers were interfering with interstate commerce and with the carrying of mails.
VAST PROFITS AND LOW WAGES.
That the company's profits were great at the identical time the workers were curtailed to a starvation basis, there can be no doubt. The general indignation and agitation caused by the summary proceedings during the strike, compelled President Cleveland to appoint a commission to investigate. Cleveland was a mediocre politician who, by a series of fortuitous circumstances, had risen from ward politics to the Presidency. After using the concentrated power of the Federal Government to break the strike, he then decided to "investigate" its merits. It was the shift and ruse of a typical politician.
The Special Commission, while not selected of men who could in the remotest degree be accused of partiality toward the workers, brought out a volume of significant facts, and handed in a report marked by considerable and unexpected fairness. The report showed that the Pullman Company's capital had been increased from $1,000,000 in 1867 to $36,000,000 in 1894. "Its prosperity," the Commission reported, "has enabled the company for over twenty years to pay two per cent. quarterly dividends." But this eight per cent. annual dividend was not all. In certain years the dividends had ranged from nine and one half, to twelve, per cent. In addition, the Commission further reported, the company had laid by a reserve fund in the form of a surplus of $25,000,000 of profits which had not been divided. For the year ending July 31, 1893, the declared dividends were $2,520,000; the wages $7,223,719.51. During the next year, when wages were cut one-fourth, the stockholders divided an even greater amount in profits: $2,880,000. Wages went to 4,471,701.39.[182]
If Field's revenue was so proportionately large from this one property—the Pullman works—it is evident that his total revenue from the large array of properties which he owned, or in which he held bonds or stock, was very great.
It is probable that in the latter years of his life his annual net income was, at the very least, $5,000,000. This is an extremely conservative estimate. More likely it reached $10,000,000 a year. Computing the sum upon which the average of his workers had to live (to make a very liberal allowance) at $800 a year, this sum of $5,000,000 flowing in to him every year, without in the slightest trenching upon his principal, was equal to the entire amount that 6,250 of his employees earned by the skill of their brains and hands, and upon which they had to support themselves and their families.
Here, then, was one individual who appropriated to his use as much as six thousand; men and more who laboriously performed service to the community. For that $5,000,000 a year Field had nothing to do in return except to worry over the personal or business uses to which his surplus revenues should be put; like a true industrial monarch he relieved himself of superfluous cares by hiring the ability to supervise and manage his properties for him.
Such an avalanche of riches tumbled in upon him that, perforce, like the Astors, the Goelets and other multimillionaires, he was put constantly to the terrible extremity of seeking new fields for investment. Luxuriously live, as he did, it would have required a superior inventive capacity to have dissipated his full income. But, judging his life by that of some other multimillionaires, he lived modestly. Of medium height and spare figure, he was of rather unobtrusive appearance. In his last years his hair and mustache were white. His eyes were gray and cold; his expression one of determination and blandly assertive selfishness. His eulogists, however, have glowingly portrayed him as "generous, philanthropic and public-spirited."