Among the various competitors of the Pullman Company, the Wagner Palace Car Company, which succeeded, in 1865, the New York Central Sleeping Car Company, and absorbed in 1869 the Gates Sleeping Car Company, developed by far the widest and most formidable competition and continued its service over the longest period. The underlying reasons for the strength of this competition lay primarily in the fact that the Wagner cars followed more closely the Pullman characteristics, and in fact the infringement of certain basic Pullman patents by the Wagner Company was a cause of frequent litigation over a period of many years. Webster Wagner, the founder of the Wagner Palace Car Company, began his career as a wagon maker. The first cars which he constructed had a single tier of berths, and the bedding was packed away by day in a closet at the end of the car. Commodore Vanderbilt backed Wagner and became interested in his company, a connection which gave Wagner invaluable assistance and a hold on the sleeping-car business of the lines controlled by the Vanderbilt interests, a connection which enabled him for many years to be a keen competitor of the Pullman Company.

Early in June, 1881, suit was brought by the Pullman Palace Car Company against the New York Central Sleeping Car Company and Webster Wagner, claiming $1,000,000 damages for infringement and use of patents in the construction and use of Wagner sleeping coaches. The bill stated that in 1870 the Wagner Company began building sleeping cars, and for several years its coaches ran only on the New York Central Railroad and its various branches. The company finding it impossible to build satisfactory cars without using the Pullman patents, contracted with the Pullman Company to use certain of its patented improvements. This arrangement was made with the distinct understanding that the Wagner Company was to run its cars only over the New York Central Railroad. For five years this arrangement was satisfactorily carried out. But in 1875 the Pullman Company's contract with the Michigan Central Railroad expired and the Wagner Company secured the contract to run the cars between Detroit and Chicago, thus making a through connection for the Vanderbilt lines between New York and Chicago.

By this new routing of the Wagner cars direct from New York to Chicago and the elimination of the Pullman cars from the Chicago and Detroit service, an opportunity offered for some other road to avail itself of the Pullman service and effect a through Pullman service between New York and Chicago.

The Erie was the road that grasped the opportunity. By arrangements with the Baltimore & Ohio and several other roads, through Erie trains between New York and Chicago, comprising Pullman hotel coaches, sleeping cars and drawing room cars were put in service on November 1, 1875. A circular published in Chicago announcing the new arrangement said:

From the first of November, the Pullman hotel and drawing room coaches, for many years so popular on the Michigan Central line, will be withdrawn from that route, and with new and increased improvements will thereafter run exclusively on the Erie and Chicago line, forming the first and only Pullman hotel coach line between Chicago and New York.

The success of the new Erie Pullman coaches was immediately assured. The hotel cars especially were a great attraction. These were divided into two compartments, in one of which the kitchen was located, the other compartment being utilized as a sleeping car. First-class meals, including all manner of game and seasonable delicacies, were served on movable tables placed in the sections. In fact, the New York Tribune, in commenting on the new Pullman equipment, asked: "Should the Erie have a monopoly of such comforts? Why does not Wagner imitate or improve upon Pullman?"

These cars were nicknamed "French Flats."

All the modern conveniences of a first-class house are condensed into one of these hotels on wheels. The beds at night are put away to make room for spacious seats by day, between which a table is placed, covered with damask cloths and napkins folded in quaint devices, at which four may sit with ease. The whole car—a Pullman—is luxuriously fitted up, and one end is partitioned into a storeroom and kitchen; there is a smoking-room for lovers of the weed, and a separate toilet room for ladies. As the porter of the car blackens the boots, and there is a telegraph office at each stopping place, the waggish question of "Where is the barber shop?" is often made. But this may come, too, as last summer an excursion party of ladies and gentlemen took a hair-dresser with them over the Erie to Niagara Falls, and two or three ladies actually had their hair crimped while traveling thirty or forty miles an hour! At this time, while game is plenty in the West, the Pullmans, with their facilities, and two fast trains each way per day, are able to make a bill of fare and serve it in a style which would cause Delmonico to wring his hands in anguish. The service is on the European plan; that is, you pay for what you order, and we give the prices of the principal articles, to show at what a reasonable rate one can take a superior meal of fifty or a hundred miles long: Prairie chicken, pheasant, and woodcock, whole, $1; snipe, quail, golden plover and blue-winged teal, each 75 cents; venison, 60 cents; chicken, whole, 75 cents; cold tongue, ham, and corned beef, 30 cents; sardines, lobster, and broiled ham or bacon, 40 cents; mutton and lamb chops, veal cutlets, or half a chicken, 50 cents; sirloin steak, 50 cents, &c. Every traveler who has missed his dinner to catch a train will rejoice in knowing that a warm meal awaits him at the cars, and that he can wake up in the morning and choose his time for breakfast, instead of bolting it down at the twenty minutes' convenience of the railroad company.[2]

Some time prior to 1861 sleeping cars were being operated over the Camden & Amboy and Baltimore & Ohio railroads. These cars were known as "Knight" cars, after their designer, E. C. Knight. The "Knights" were built at a cost of about $7,000, and were regarded as the handsomest things on wheels. As in the bunk cars, all of which found their model in the sleeping arrangements of the canal boat, the berths were only on one side of the car and consisted of a triple tier of two double and one single berth; an arrangement later changed to one double and two single berths.

The Woodruff sleeping car also was designed about this time by T. T. Woodruff, Master Car Builder of the Terre Haute & Alton Railroad. In this car both sides of the car were utilized as in the Pullman car, and the sleeping accommodations consisted of twelve sections, six on a side. A company was formed to operate the Woodruff cars in 1871, with a capital of $100,000.

The Flower Sleeping Car Company was another characteristic competitor. This short-lived company was organized in 1882 in Bangor, Maine, with a capital of $500,000. The seats in this new car were placed in the middle instead of on the sides of the cars, thus leaving an aisle on each side instead of one in the center. Claims were made that a freer circulation of air would result, and a news item of the Times further recommended this unique construction as more convenient to families, the berths being so arranged, side by side, that two could be made up into a double bed.

Mann's Boudoir Car Company was incorporated in 1883, with a capital of $1,000,000, and experienced considerable popularity due to their unique arrangement, which has been described in a previous chapter.

In 1883 the Erie Railroad realized the long entertained ambition of entering Chicago on its own rails. To accomplish this, the Erie had leased the New York, Pennsylvania & Ohio Railroad and built the Chicago & Atlantic. Through connection was actually made May 15, on which date freight traffic was begun.

The train by which the Erie inaugurated the passenger business over the new trunk line was probably the most complete and elegant train ever to that time constructed. All of the cars were of Pullman manufacture and consisted of a baggage car, second-class coach, a smoking car, and first-class coaches and sleepers that were "models of perfection and beauty, as might be expected where the Pullman Company had carte blanche to produce the best possible." Each coach was lighted with the new Pintsch lights. The smoking car deserves more than passing mention, for it was the first one ever constructed of Pullman standard. The car was equipped with upholstered easy chairs, and a "refreshment buffet" moistened the throats of the smokers.

Early in 1889 the Pullman Company acquired the control of the Mann Boudoir Car Company and the Woodruff Sleeping Car Company, including the entire car equipment and plants. By this acquisition a long step was taken for the unification of sleeping car service, and the further development of a uniform and widely extended scope of operations. For years the success of the Pullman Company's service had been too generally acknowledged to escape the notice of enterprising railroad men, and these two companies were fair examples of the numerous competing companies that were organized. But the success of the Pullman service was based on an idea of too wide conception ever to be successfully imitated. The success of the company engendered competition; its success resulted only in a comparison of service injurious to the imitators. Behind all this lay the fundamental reason for Pullman supremacy. Created to give a standardized service everywhere for the convenience of travelers, it was quickly apparent that competition was but a reversal to the old order—the more companies, the less uniform service.

About a month previous, the Mann Boudoir Company and the Woodruff Sleeping Car Company had joined hands and formed the Union Palace Car Company. By the purchase of this combine the Pullman Company added about 15,000 miles of road to that already operated, and by that many miles extended its through car service. The only remaining sleeping car companies of any importance outside of the Pullman Company were the Wagner Company, belonging to the Vanderbilts, and operated over the Vanderbilt lines, and the Monarch Sleeping Car Company, which operated entirely in the New England States with the exception of one Ohio line. A newspaper of the time commented on the merger, and closed with the verdict: "While this will add to the volume of the Pullman business, it will also render the service upon the absorbed lines far more efficient and satisfactory for the traveling public."

In 1888, Mr. Pullman had put in operation his vestibule trains, which immediately met with extraordinary favor and patronage. In a very few days the Wagner Company also advertised a vestibule train and were promptly met with an injunction holding the Wagner appliances to be an infringement of the Pullman patent. After another hearing, the injunction was superseded, the Wagner Company giving an unlimited bond, signed by the Vanderbilts, to pay any damages ascertained by the courts.

After months occupied in taking the evidence of travelers, expert mechanics, railroad officials, prominent citizens, and others, a final hearing was had. The judges, owing to the vast interests involved and the legal difficulties presented, took ample time for consideration, but finally adhered to their first conclusion. The main feature of the Pullman vestibule system was the Sessions patent, without which the vestibule system was worthless. The court declared this invention to be of the highest order of utility, not only as shown by the testimony in the ease and the adoption of the patent by the principal railroads of the country, but also by the acts of the Wagner Company in appropriating the device, and in the tenacity with which they clung to it in the courts under an immense bond for any damages to result, and so, in April, 1889, the United States Circuit Court delivered its opinion in favor of the Pullman Palace Car Company in its long and stubborn fight with the Wagner Palace Car Company.

CHAPTER VI
THE TOWN OF PULLMAN

Like most other industries, the Pullman Palace Car Company felt the effect of the financial depression immediately following 1873, but the reaction followed, and on the resumption of specie payments in 1879 dawned a new era in the Company's history and a rapid expansion of its business. To meet this expansion and to extend the business still farther along the line of general car building, it became necessary to enlarge the plant. The shops already established in St. Louis, Detroit, Elmira, and Wilmington were unable to provide the volume required by the increasing demand for the Company's output. It was evident that new shops must be built on a larger and more comprehensive scale than any that had gone before.

In 1879 the Chicago newspapers were alert to confirm the rumor that George M. Pullman was planning to locate his new shops at Chicago. The following year the rumor became fact and the question of the exact location became of paramount interest.

Chicago with its central position with reference to the railway systems of the continent, seemed the natural site, but there were weighty objections, touching both finance and the matter of labor, to be urged against building within the city limits proper. Sites were visited by representatives of the Company at Hinsdale, Illinois, and Wolf Lake, Indiana, but in April it was definitely announced that the works would be located on the Illinois Central Railroad on the shore of Lake Calumet. A Chicago newspaper commented on the decision of the Company as follows:

A notable addition to Chicago's mercantile industry is to be the extensive car works of the Pullman Palace Car Company, ground for which is to be broken today. A larger establishment for manufacturing purposes will not exist in the West, and while it will contain all the latest and most improved mechanical appliances in use, it will embody in its architecture grace and beauty that is quite characteristic of the palace car. The works are to cost $1,000,000; about 2,000 men are to be employed in them, and the extended arrangement of machinery is to be moved by the Corliss engine, one of the Centennial wonders, which has been purchased by the Pullmans.

An interesting personal reminiscence of this famous real estate operation may be found in Frederick Francis Cook's Bygone Days in Chicago.

Another "Pullman scoop" was of an extraordinary real-estate and manufacturing interest when "negotiated"—the slang to be accepted for once in its proper meaning. In the later seventies, besides other duties, I had charge of the real-estate department of the Times. It became known that the Pullman Company intended to build a manufacturing town somewhere, but whether in the environs of Chicago, St. Louis, Kansas City, or other western point, was for the public an open question for many months—and, I dare say, for a time was an unsettled proposition with the company itself, for St. Louis offered large inducements in the way of land grants. What finally turned the scales in favor of Chicago, according to Mr. Pullman's declaration to me, was the more favorable climatic conditions presented by Chicago. It was his contention that during the summer a man could do at least ten per cent more work near Lake Michigan than in the Mississippi Valley in the latitude of St. Louis.

During many disturbing weeks—for the whole real-estate market in at least three cities waited on the decision—frequent announcements were made that the directors of the company, or its committee on site, had inspected this locality, or that, in the vicinity of one city or another, and so the wearisome time went on. Many places were visited about Chicago—some to the north, some on the Desplaines, some in the neighborhood of the Canal, but somehow none near Calumet Lake, a fact which finally aroused my suspicions. In the meantime, unverifiable reports of large transactions in that locality floated about in real-estate circles. Finally, I pinned down an actual sale of large dimensions, with Colonel "Jim" Bowen as the ostensible purchaser. That opened my eyes, for the colonel's circumstances at this time put such a transaction on his own account altogether out of the question.

Almost daily at this time Mr. Pullman was interviewed on the situation by the real-estate newspaper phalanx—Henry D. Lloyd was then in charge for the Tribune—but "nothing decided," was the stereotyped reply. By and by I discovered that almost invariably if I went at a certain hour, "Colonel Jim" would be largely in evidence about the Pullman headquarters, with an air of doing a "land-office business," and, as it turned out, he was actually doing something very much like it. Slowly I picked up clue after clue, pieced this to that, and one day felt in a position to say to Mr. Pullman that I had located the site. He seemed amused, and laughingly replied that he was pleased to hear it, as it would save the committee on site a lot of trouble; and, as some of them were that very day looking at a Desplaines River site near Riverside—a trip most ostentatiously advertised in advance—he thought he would telegraph them to stop looking, and come back to town.

It was always a pleasure to interview Mr. Pullman, for he had a way of making you feel at ease, and I entered heartily into the humor of his jocularity. But, as in a bantering way, I let out link after link of my chain of evidence, he became more and more serious, and finally—without committing himself, however—took the ground that even if true, in view of the importance of their plans, no paper having the good of Chicago at heart ought by premature publication to interfere with them. He pressed this point more and more, and finally made frank confession that I was on the right track, by acknowledging that they had already bought many hundreds of acres, were negotiating for many hundreds more which would be advanced to prohibitive prices by publication, and the whole scheme would thus be wrecked. On the other hand, if I withheld publication, he promised that I should have the matter exclusively—the whole vast improvement scheme, unique plan of administration, etc. As there was the danger in waiting that one of my rivals might get hold of the facts, exploit them, and thus turn the tables on me, I replied that the matter was of too great moment for me to take the responsibility of holding the news, and that I should have to consult Mr. Storey. It happened that Mr. Storey had invested quite extensively in South Side boulevard property; and, as a great improvement southward could not fail to add to the value of his holding, and there was the further prospect of a more complete exclusive account later than was possible with my skeleton information, he gave a ready assent.

The town of Pullman meant far more in the mind of its founder than a mere industrial establishment. The dreary, water-soaked prairie was raised to high, dry land; an entire town was planned and blocked out following Mr. Pullman's own design. Architects and landscape architects worked together to carry out the plan to a harmonious and pleasing fulfillment. Among the more prominent details of this vast work were included a system by which the sewage of the town was collected and pumped far away to the Pullman produce farm; the equipment of every house and flat regardless of rental with the most modern appliances of water, gas, and plumbing; the establishment of athletic fields; the concentration of the merchandising of the town under the glass roof of the central arcade building, and the construction of a handsome market house, a fine schoolhouse to accommodate a thousand pupils, a library containing over 8,000 volumes, a savings bank and a large and artistically decorated theater. The population of Pullman in January, 1881, counted four souls. In February, 1882, there were 2,084 inhabitants, a total which had increased to 8,203 by September, 1884.

A contemporary writer closes an enthusiastic description of the town of Pullman with the following paragraph:

Imagine a perfectly equipped town of 12,000 inhabitants, built out from one central thought to a beautiful and harmonious whole. A town that is bordered with bright beds of flowers and green velvety stretches of lawn; that is shaded with trees and dotted with parks and pretty water vistas, and glimpses here and there of artistic sweeps of landscape gardening; a town where the homes, even to the most modest, are bright and wholesome and filled with pure air and light; a town, in a word, where all that is ugly, and discordant, and demoralizing, is eliminated, and all that inspires to self-respect, to thrift and to cleanliness of person and of thought is generously provided. Imagine all this, and try to picture the empty, sodden morass out of which this beautiful vision was reared, and you will then have some idea of the splendid work, in its physical aspects at least, which the far-reaching plan of Mr. Pullman has wrought.[3]

CHAPTER VII
INVENTIONS AND IMPROVEMENTS

The invention of the folding upper berth combination by Mr. Pullman was the first of many contributions by himself, and in later years by the Pullman Company and those associated with it, to the development of railway travel. Sleeping cars for a number of years had given night accommodations to travelers; there was nothing new in the idea that a night journey required sleeping accommodations. But in the new and radical berth construction devised by Mr. Pullman lay the difference between impracticability and practicability—between discomfort and luxury.

The earliest sleeping cars were mere bunk cars in which the male passengers might recline during the night hours. Later, bedding was furnished, but the necessity of storing it by day in a closet at the end of the cars created a situation in which order and cleanliness were far from practicable. By the Pullman invention, however, all this was changed. A type of car was developed that was not only comfortable and convenient for day travel, but one that might be quickly transformed into a comfortable sleeping apartment. Furthermore, the new upper berth construction made it possible to pack away by day the entire bedding, mattresses, curtains, and partitions necessary to convert each section into a double sleeping apartment.

With this simple mechanical innovation the inventor combined an idea characterized by a breadth of vision that ranks with the great ideas of the century. In few words, he conceived the thought that it would be possible at one stroke to supplant the inadequate and inefficient service of the day with a new service so complete in its comforts and conveniences that no one might express a wish that the service might be unable to fulfill.

It is interesting, in passing, to consider the fact that up to the development of the Pullman car, night trains were patronized exclusively by men, for no woman would have considered subjecting herself to the inconvenience and lack of privacy of the ordinary sleeping car. The development of the Pullman car and Pullman service made continuous day and night travel practical for women and children; it created the comforts and privacies they naturally required. To be sure it was several years before the new order of things received general recognition, but the public quickly caught on. "Travel by Pullman" soon became a popular diversion.

The story of the early years of the Pullman sleeping car has been told in the foregoing chapters. Due in large measure to the comfort and convenience of the cars, continuous travel lengthened, and at once arose the necessity for eating as well as sleeping accommodations on the through long-distance trains.

For a number of years foreign travelers in America had praised the elaborate restaurant service afforded by certain station eating-houses. Towns developed keen rivalry in respect to the meals provided by their station "counters," and the station restaurants of certain towns developed among constant travelers a reputation for unusual culinary excellence. Our fathers will doubtless recall the glorious fame of dining rooms at Poughkeepsie, Springfield, and Altoona, and of certain dishes that enjoyed nation-wide reputation and might be had only at this or that particular station restaurant.

But, on the other hand, the uninviting, indigestible nature of the so-called refreshment offered at some railway eating stations had long been a byword. In most sections of the country it was practically impossible to procure a respectable meal or lunch while traveling. Railway officials had wrestled with the subject in vain. Recognizing the fact that the heart of the railway traveler is most susceptible to influences reaching it by way of his stomach, they made repeated and continued endeavors to improve the fare offered during the "twenty minutes for dinner" stops. With a few exceptions the results were not encouraging, and the traveling public continued its dyspeptic round three times a day.

The station eating-house was on an unsound basis, and its disadvantages were obvious. With the increase of the speed of through trains and the demand for shorter running times between terminals it became quickly apparent that a train could not be stopped three times a day to permit the passengers to gorge a hasty meal at the station restaurant. Three meals at a minimum of twenty minutes each was an hour lost, and twenty minutes for eating was as bad for the passenger as it was for the running time of the trains. There were still other disadvantages. In addition to the delay of the train and the tax on the passenger's digestion, there was the frequent discomfort of wet or wintry weather. On a fine day it was well enough to "stretch one's legs," but in rain or snow the tri-daily evacuation of the car was a decidedly unpopular feature.

The installation of "hotel-car" service by the Pullman Company sang the knell of the station eating-counter. The "President," a car combining sleeping and eating accommodations, was put in service in 1867 on the Grand Trunk Railway, then the Great Western of Canada. Its instant success necessitated the building of the "Kalamazoo" and "Western World," and in the years immediately following many hotel cars were put in service.

The second step in the evolution was inevitable. At best, the hotel car was only a sleeping car with restaurant accommodations. Eating and sleeping have never been associated in the modern mind; there must be a separate place for each.

To meet the demand, or rather to anticipate a demand which his keen eyes foresaw, Mr. Pullman set himself to the task of developing a car which would be only a dining car, serving no other purpose, and practical for operation in conjunction with through trains of the fastest speed. The first real dining car which Mr. Pullman constructed was aptly named the "Delmonico." It was a complete restaurant with a large kitchen and pantries at one end. The main body of the car was fitted up as a dining room in which the passengers from all the cars of the train could enter and take their meals with entire comfort. The "Delmonico" was put in regular service in 1868 on the Chicago & Alton, and other Pullman diners were added the same year. At about the same time the Michigan Central and the Chicago, Burlington & Quincy Railroads also began to operate dining cars on their trains. To the Chicago & Alton, however, belongs the honor of having first inaugurated the dining-car system. The Michigan Central and Burlington did not put on dining cars until 1875. The Chicago & Alton dining cars were run between Chicago and St. Louis, and were constructed and managed by Mr. Pullman. The price for a meal was $1.00. Later the Alton acquired an interest in the dining cars, and finally assumed full control of them.

Although founded and developed, and for a number of years successfully operated by the Pullman Company, the dining car is no longer under its management. Due primarily to the vast increase in this particular share of the business and the variety of service required by travelers in different sections of the country, it became advisable to turn over to the various roads the details of catering to their particular patrons. On some of the leading railroads the highest type of dining-car service is maintained and advertised as a particular feature. On other roads of lesser prominence a corresponding degree of service may be found. It is, perhaps, unfortunate from the point of view of the traveler that the Pullman Company found it necessary to discontinue a service that it had so auspiciously inaugurated.

The installation of dining-car service immediately drew attention to a serious defect in railway train construction that had previously escaped notice, a defect which was the more apparent in comparison with the relatively high development of other features of train construction. By the adoption of the dining car it became necessary for the passengers to pass from car to car across the platform while the train was in motion, and often during a condition of rain and snow which added discomfort to actual danger. Where the crossing of platforms while the train was in motion had formerly been prohibited, the railroads were now forced to encourage passengers to subject themselves to this dangerous procedure in order that they might avail themselves of the convenience of the dining cars.

Attempts had been made at different times to provide a safe and covered passageway between the cars, especially on fast express trains, but nothing of a practical nature had resulted. In 1852 and 1855 patents were taken out for canvas devices to connect adjoining cars and create a passage way between them. These appliances were installed in 1857 on a train on the Naugatuck Railroad, in Connecticut, but soon proved to be of little practical use and were abandoned several years later.

But in 1886 Mr. Pullman, realizing the handicap of existing conditions to the full enjoyment of the various types of cars which he had established, set himself to the solving of the problem by devising a perfect system for constructing continuous trains and at the same time providing sufficient flexibility in the connecting passage ways to allow for the motion of the train, particularly when rounding curves. The result of his efforts combined with those of his associates was the complete solution of the problem and the establishment of the "vestibule" train, practically as it exists today. The vestibule patent was granted to Mr. H. H. Sessions, of the Pullman Company, and covered many important features, and particularly the arrangement of the springs which kept the cars in line in a vertical plane.

The vestibule was patented in 1887. By its application the appearance of the train as a unit was materially increased, but of far greater importance was the contribution which it made to safety. Not only did the enclosed vestibule afford protection to passengers crossing the platform from one car to another, but the entire vestibule construction immediately gave greater safety in case of wreck by preventing one platform from "riding" the other and producing a telescoping of the cars.

The vestibule as designed and patented did not extend to the full width of the car. It consisted of elastic diaphragms on steel frames attached to the ends of the cars, the faces of the diaphragms when the train was made up, pressing firmly against each other by powerful spiral springs which held them in position. A further advantage of the vestibule was the almost entire elimination of the oscillation of the cars.

The first vestibuled trains were put in service in April, 1887, on the Pennsylvania Railroad, and in a few years were adopted by every railroad using Pullman equipment. In 1893 the vestibule was redesigned to enclose the entire platform by means of a drop which lowered over the stair openings, thus increasing the roominess of the car and utilizing every inch of possible space.

In the Railway Review of April 16, 1887, occurs an interesting description of the first "solid-vestibuled" train. For a number of months following, this radical innovation was widely recognized by the press throughout the country, and Pullman vestibuled cars were advertised by the railroads on which they were operated. We quote in part from the article in the Railway Review:

This week there was turned out of the Pullman works, at Pullman, Ill., a train of three sleepers, one dining car, and one combination baggage and smoker, that for perfection, in detail of manufacture and ornament, and in completeness of comfort and luxury, is unquestionably far ahead of any train ever before made up. This train was on public exhibition for a few days at Chicago, and on Friday was taken on its christening trip, over a short run on the Illinois Central Railroad. The train is intended for "Limited" service on the Pennsylvania system.

The trial trip was a success in every way. The train went to Otto, a short distance south of Kankakee, sixty miles from Chicago. There it was reversed on a Y, and an opportunity afforded of witnessing its operation on a sharp curve. The action of the flexible connection of the vestibules was perfect. On the return trip the train was run at a high rate of speed, and it was evident that the cars were held very firmly together, by the springs at the top of the vestibules, and that there was much less jarring and swaying than is usual even on a very level track.

The list of business men and railroad managers who made up the party indicates the importance of the occasion. It included:

• George M. Pullman
• G. F. Brown
• T. H. Wickes
• C. H. Chappell
• J. J. Janes
• Orson Smith
• O. W. Potter
• W. T. Baker
• H. R. Hobart
• A. N. Eddy
• Jesse Spalding
• Frederick Broughton
• W. P. Nixon
• John M. Clark
• A. C. Bartlett
• J. W. Hambleton
• E. L. Brewster
• Henry S. Boutell
• D. B. Fiske
• Willard A. Smith
• Stephen F. Gale
• Edson Keith
• O. S. A. Sprague
• A. B. Pullman
• J. T. Lester
• H. J. MacFarland
• S. W. Doane
• Murray Nelson
• A. H. Burley
• C. K. Offield
• E. T. Jeffery
• Prof. Swing
• W. K. Sullivan
• W. K. Ackerman
• A. C. Thomas
• J. McGregor Adams
• J. F. Studebaker
• P. E. Studebaker
• T. B. Blackstone
• Rev. S. J. McPherson
• C. S. Tuckerman
• A. A. Sprague
• P. L. Yoe
• A. F. Seeberger
• D. S. Wegg
• F. N. Finney

During the days in which the train was exhibited at Van Buren street, Chicago, it was visited by approximately 20,000 people. The article continues:

This fact shows that the public has a deep interest in improvements in traveling conveniences. We do not remember that any previous invention or improvement has ever excited such general public interest. Mr. Pullman has again struck the popular chord.

The first vestibule train to the land of the Aztecs, the "Montezuma Special," was naturally of Pullman construction, and began regular tri-monthly trips from New Orleans to the City of Mexico and return, via the Southern Pacific, Mexican International, and Mexican Central Railway, on February 7, 1889. Four magnificent cars, electrically lighted, comprised the train. The initial trip of 1,835 miles was made in about seventy-one hours, and on its arrival in the City of Mexico a banquet was given to President Diaz and his cabinet to signalize the advent of the first international vestibule train into the capital of Mexico.

The lighting of railway cars shows an interesting evolution. Undoubtedly candles were used at the earliest period, but the use of oil dates back beyond the birthday of the Pullman car. Oil lamps, at best, were a poor substitute for the light of day. Casting a dim, yellow light, flickering in every draught, smelling and smoking when not properly cared for, and vitiating the car atmosphere, it was small wonder that the public showed prompt appreciation of the first substitute that was provided.

The brilliant Pintsch light, which for a number of years had had wide use in Europe, was first introduced into America by the Pullman Company on the crack Erie train in the through New York-Chicago service in 1883. The gas used for these lights was of high candle power and was manufactured from petroleum. As a car illuminant it has held its own almost to the present day.

It is impossible to exaggerate the part played by the Pullman Company in the development of electric lighting of cars. Without its inspired initiative and its vast resources for practical and costly experiment it is fair to believe that electricity would not have been successfully utilized for this purpose for many years. The Railroad Gazette of January 25, 1889, expresses this thought:

Without extended experiments we can scarcely hope to develop a good system of electric lighting for railroad service. Such experiments are rather expensive, and it is only by the co-operation of liberal-minded managers that anything like a perfect system can be expected in a reasonable time. The Pullman Company has great confidence in the success of electric lighting, and therefore, in spite of the annoyance and expense of the present system, expresses a determination to use it, expecting that something better will result in the near future from the extended experience now being obtained.

Although the incandescent electric lamp was introduced by Edison in 1879, following by two years the introduction by Brush of the arc lamp, it was on an English railway in an American Pullman car supplied with electricity by French accumulator cells that the electric light on October 14, 1881, barely fifty years from the first suggestion of the iron horse by Stephenson, cast its brilliant light for the first time in a railway carriage.

The trial was made in a Pullman car, forming part of a special train on the Brighton Railway. A number of officials of the road, a representative of the Pullman Company, and Mr. F. A. Pincaffs and Mr. Lachlan of the Faure Accumulator Company composed the party, and at 3:25 the train pulled out of the Victoria Station for Brighton.

Only a few months before, Mr. Faure had sent to Sir William Thomson his little box of lead plates coated with red oxide and fully charged with electricity. The great physicist saw at once its possibilities, and in a relatively short time inventors were developing countless applications of the new wonder. Its application to car lighting was an important test.

The Pullman car on which this first experiment was made, carried beneath it on a shelf some thirty-two small metal boxes or cells, each containing lead plates coated with oxide. Stored in these cells was the power to light the car. It was nothing more than the most elementary storage battery, a far cry from the compact batteries of today and the massive generator swung beneath the floor of the modern car.

All the previous night a steam engine had created power to charge the cells. In the roof of the car were twelve small Edison incandescent lights with bamboo filaments. The light was uneven; it was "garish," but at the turn of a switch its rays filled the car. With pardonable enthusiasm the London Times stated that "the car on the return journey in the evening was kept lighted the whole of the distance from Brighton to Victoria."

It is interesting to read in the London Daily Telegraph of October 15, 1885, the following mention of this important event:

Yesterday's trial was understood to have special reference, however, to a new train, wholly composed of Pullman cars, which it is proposed shortly to put on the service between Victoria and Brighton, and should the experiment be deemed fully satisfactory it is probable that the new train will from the first be fitted with the electric light. So far as the travelers were concerned the result was eminently successful. It would scarcely be possible to conceive a steadier, more equable, or more agreeable light. On the down journey the first trial was made in the Merstham tunnel, and then in the Balcombe and Clayton tunnels. All that was needed was to move the little switch, and instantaneously the delicate carbon thread enclosed in the lamps was aglow with pure white light. The return journey was made in the night, and the electric lamps were alight during the whole distance. There had been some question whether the supply would prove sufficient, as owing to stoppages the special had taken a somewhat longer time than had been allowed for; the event, however, showed that the storage had been ample. It would be possible to generate electricity by the energy of the moving train itself, and this has indeed been suggested to be done. By this means enough energy could be supplied to the incandescent lamps, but in any case the accumulator would be necessary to act as a reservoir when the train was not in motion. It possesses, however, another advantage equally important. Experience shows that a current of absolutely uniform strength supplying an even and constant light can only be derived from stored electricity. The oxide of lead which covers the plates not only prevents leakage, but enables the supply to be withdrawn with perfect regularity, and renders sub-division easy. Yesterday the smoke room and lavatory of the car were lighted, and occasionally the lights were turned off without in any way interfering with the other lamps in the same circuit. Before the train started on the return journey the brightly illuminated carriage was an object of interest to many members of the Iron and Steel Institute who visited Brighton and Newhaven yesterday. With regard to expense, it is claimed for the accumulator and the incandescent lamps that the expenditure would be decidedly less than on oil, while, as to the comparative value of the two there is no room for difference of opinion. It was the general feeling of all who took part in the excursion that the question of the electric lighting of trains had been solved, and that to the Brighton Company, whatever may be the immediate results of the experiment, would belong the honour of taking the first decisive and practical step in the way of reform.

Four months later a correspondent of a Sheffield, England, paper, writing from London to the Railway Review of the recent trial of electric lights on the Pullman train of the London, Brighton & South Coast Railway, says:

There is no doubt whatever on the point that this, apart from the question of cost, is a decided success. It is easily manageable, and diffuses through the train a pleasant, equable light, scarcely less agreeable than daylight. It is turned on and off with instantaneous effect as the train enters and leaves a tunnel, and of course is kept burning the whole of the time during the night journeys. The electricity is stored in a number of lead plates, which are kept in water in iron boxes in the guard's van. There are two lots, one at either end of the train, and two mechanics in charge of them. This discovery of the ability to store electricity for application to lighting purposes seems to carry the discovery farther than anything since it was first introduced. It gets over many difficulties which seemed insuperable—especially the important one of the great waste of power which is illustrated every night at the Savoy Theatre—and would be applicable to the introduction of electricity for household use.

At the Savoy, when the exigencies of the play require that the lights should be turned down in the auditorium, there is no cessation of the enormous power required to produce the full effect. What happens is that by a mechanical contrivance, the electricity is carried off from the light and goes to waste. With this system of storing, electricity can be used just like gas, as much or as little as people chance to want. Another great advantage is the freedom from jumping, inseparable from the action of the driving power of the steam engine, or of the motion power of water. The lights of the Brighton train burn just as steadily as gas, an effect not in any way obtained where the light is maintained directly by the driving power of steam.

But after all, the question of gas vs. electricity will resolve itself into one of cost, and it is here where gas will inevitably hold its own. The fundamental principle of the electric light is that for a given exertion of power you obtain a given proportion of light, neither more nor less. For every hour it is burning there will be required a certain exactly-ascertained proportion of revolutions of the steam engine, and therefore, if the whole town is lighted it can be done only at a strictly proportionate expense to the lighting of a single house. As to what that expense will be, as compared with gas, the Brighton train would, if we had an idea of the actual figures, afford a precise means of information. I met on the train a well-known gas engineer, attracted, like myself, by the novelty of the experiment. What the electric light cost he was not able to say, but when we take into account the capital sunk in plant, involving a steam engine with the necessary buildings, consumption of coal and necessary employment of skilled labor, it must be something considerable. Against this is the bare fact that the Brighton train could be lighted with gas for the double journey at the cost of 10d. It is a physical impossibility that electricity should ever come anywhere near this, and that probably explains the singular phenomenon that at the time when electricity is making conspicuous advances in public favor, the value of gas shares is not only steadily maintained, but is actually rising in the market.