Transcriber's Note
Italics are indicated by _underscores_, and bold text by =equals signs=.
[Illustration:
Yours very truly
E. Howard.
]
GARDEN CITIES
OF
TO-MORROW
(BEING THE SECOND EDITION OF “TO-MORROW: A PEACEFUL PATH TO REAL REFORM”)
BY
EBENEZER HOWARD
“New occasions teach new duties;
Time makes ancient good uncouth;
They must upward still, and onward,
Who would keep abreast of Truth.
Lo, before us, gleam her camp-fires!
We ourselves must Pilgrims be,
Launch our ‘Mayflower,’ and steer boldly
Through the desperate winter sea,
Nor attempt the Future’s portal
With the Past’s blood-rusted key.”
--“The Present Crisis.”--_J. R. Lowell._
[Illustration]
LONDON
SWAN SONNENSCHEIN & CO., LTD.
PATERNOSTER SQUARE
1902
CONTENTS
CHAPTER PAGE
Introduction, 9
I. The Town-Country Magnet, 20
II. The Revenue of Garden City, and how it is obtained--The
Agricultural Estate, 28
III. The Revenue of Garden City--Town Estate, 38
IV. The Revenue of Garden City--General Observations on its
Expenditure, 43
V. Further Details of Expenditure on Garden City, 57
VI. Administration, 68
VII. Semi-Municipal Enterprise--Local Option--Temperance Reform, 76
VIII. Pro-Municipal Work, 86
IX. Some Difficulties Considered, 94
X. A Unique Combination of Proposals, 101
XI. The Path followed up, 114
XII. Social Cities, 126
XIII. The Future of London, 141
Index, 153
Postscript, 161
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
PAGE
THE THREE MAGNETS 16
GARDEN CITY 22
WARD AND CENTRE GARDEN CITY 22
ADELAIDE 128
DIAGRAM REPRESENTING TRUE MODE OF A CITY’S GROWTH 128
GARDEN CITIES OF TO-MORROW.
INTRODUCTION.
“New forces, new cravings, new aims, which had been silently gathering
beneath the crust of re-action, burst suddenly into view.”--Green’s
“Short History of the English People,” Chap. x.
“Change is consummated in many cases after much argument and
agitation, and men do not observe that almost everything has been
silently effected by causes to which few people paid any heed. In
one generation an institution is unassailable, in the next bold men
may assail it, and in the third bold men defend it. At one time the
most conclusive arguments are advanced against it in vain, if indeed
they are allowed utterance at all. At another time the most childish
sophistry is enough to secure its condemnation. In the first place,
the institution, though probably indefensible by pure reason, was
congruous with the conscious habits and modes of thought of the
community. In the second, these had changed from influences which the
acutest analysis would probably fail to explain, and a breath sufficed
to topple over the sapped structure.”--_The Times_, 27th November,
1891.
In these days of strong party feeling and of keenly-contested social
and religious issues, it might perhaps be thought difficult to find
a single question having a vital bearing upon national life and
well-being on which all persons, no matter of what political party,
or of what shade of sociological opinion, would be found to be fully
and entirely agreed. Discuss the temperance cause, and you will hear
from Mr. John Morley that it is “the greatest moral movement since the
movement for the abolition of slavery”; but Lord Bruce will remind
you that “every year the trade contributes £40,000,000 to the revenue
of the country, so that practically it maintains the Army and Navy,
besides which it affords employment to many thousands of persons”--that
“even the teetotalers owe much to the licensed victuallers, for if it
were not for them the refreshment bars at the Crystal Palace would
have been closed long ago.” Discuss the opium traffic, and, on the one
hand, you will hear that opium is rapidly destroying the _morale_ of
the people of China, and, on the other, that this is quite a delusion,
and that the Chinese are capable, thanks to opium, of doing work which
to a European is quite impossible, and that on food at which the least
squeamish of English people would turn up their noses in disgust.
Religious and political questions too often divide us into hostile
camps; and so, in the very realms where calm, dispassionate thought and
pure emotions are the essentials of all advance towards right beliefs
and sound principles of action, the din of battle and the struggles of
contending hosts are more forcibly suggested to the on-looker than the
really sincere love of truth and love of country which, one may yet be
sure, animate nearly all breasts.
There is, however, a question in regard to which one can scarcely find
any difference of opinion. It is well-nigh universally agreed by men of
all parties, not only in England, but all over Europe and America and
our colonies, that it is deeply to be deplored that the people should
continue to stream into the already over-crowded cities, and should
thus further deplete the country districts.
Lord Rosebery, speaking some years ago as Chairman of the London County
Council, dwelt with very special emphasis on this point:--
“There is no thought of pride associated in my mind with the idea of
London. I am always haunted by the awfulness of London: by the great
appalling fact of these millions cast down, as it would appear by
hazard, on the banks of this noble stream, working each in their own
groove and their own cell, without regard or knowledge of each other,
without heeding each other, without having the slightest idea how the
other lives--the heedless casualty of unnumbered thousands of men.
Sixty years ago a great Englishman, Cobbett, called it a wen. If it
was a wen then, what is it now? A tumour, an elephantiasis sucking
into its gorged system half the life and the blood and the bone of the
rural districts.”--March, 1891.
Sir John Gorst points out the evil, and suggests the remedy:
“If they wanted a permanent remedy of the evil they must remove the
cause; they must back the tide, and stop the migration of the people
into the towns, and get the people back to the land. The interest and
the safety of the towns themselves were involved in the solution of
the problem.”--_Daily Chronicle_, 6th November, 1891.
Dean Farrar says:
“We are becoming a land of great cities. Villages are stationary or
receding; cities are enormously increasing. And if it be true that
great cities tend more and more to become the graves of the physique
of our race, can we wonder at it when we see the houses so foul, so
squalid, so ill-drained, so vitiated by neglect and dirt?”
Dr. Rhodes, at the Demographic Congress, called attention to
“the migration which was going on from the English agricultural
districts. In Lancashire and other manufacturing districts 35 per
cent. of the population were over 60 years of age, but in agricultural
districts they would have over 60 per cent. Many of the cottages were
so abominable that they could not call them houses, and the people so
deteriorated in physique that they were not able to do the amount of
work which able-bodied persons should do. Unless something was done to
make the lot of the agricultural labourer better, the exodus would go
on, with what results in the future he dared not say.”--_Times_, 15th
August, 1891.
The Press, Liberal, Radical, and Conservative, views this grave symptom
of the time with the same alarm. The _St. James’s Gazette_, on June 6,
1892, remarks:
“How best to provide the proper antidote against the greatest danger
of modern existence is a question of no mean significance.”
_The Star_, 9th October, 1891, says:
“How to stem the drift from the country is one of the main problems
of the day. The labourer may perhaps be restored to the land, but how
will the country industries be restored to rural England?”
_The Daily News_, a few years ago, published a series of articles,
“Life in our Villages,” dealing with the same problem.
Trade Unionist leaders utter the same note of warning. Mr. Ben Tillett
says:
“Hands are hungry for toil, and lands are starving for labour.”
Mr. Tom Mann observes:
“The congestion of labour in the metropolis is caused mainly by the
influx from the country districts of those who were needed there to
cultivate the land.”
All, then, are agreed on the pressing nature of this problem, all are
bent on its solution, and though it would doubtless be quite Utopian to
expect a similar agreement as to the value of any remedy that may be
proposed, it is at least of immense importance that, on a subject thus
universally regarded as of supreme importance, we have such a consensus
of opinion at the outset. This will be the more remarkable and the
more hopeful sign when it is shown, as I believe will be conclusively
shown in this work, that the answer to this, one of the most pressing
questions of the day, makes of comparatively easy solution many other
problems which have hitherto taxed the ingenuity of the greatest
thinkers and reformers of our time. Yes, the key to the problem how to
restore the people to the land--that beautiful land of ours, with its
canopy of sky, the air that blows upon it, the sun that warms it, the
rain and dew that moisten it--the very embodiment of Divine love for
man--is indeed a _Master-Key_, for it is the key to a portal through
which, even when scarce ajar, will be seen to pour a flood of light on
the problems of intemperance, of excessive toil, of restless anxiety,
of grinding poverty--the true limits of Governmental interference, ay,
and even the relations of man to the Supreme Power.
It may perhaps be thought that the first step to be taken towards the
solution of this question--how to restore the people to the land--would
involve a careful consideration of the very numerous causes which
have hitherto led to their aggregation in large cities. Were this
the case, a very prolonged enquiry would be necessary at the outset.
Fortunately, alike for writer and for reader, such an analysis is
not, however, here requisite, and for a very simple reason, which
may be stated thus:--Whatever may have been the causes which have
operated in the past, and are operating now, to draw the people into
the cities, those causes may all be summed up as “attractions”; and it
is obvious, therefore, that no remedy can possibly be effective which
will not present to the people, or at least to considerable portions
of them, greater “attractions” than our cities now possess, so that
the force of the old “attractions” shall be overcome by the force of
new “attractions” which are to be created. Each city may be regarded
as a magnet, each person as a needle; and, so viewed, it is at once
seen that nothing short of the discovery of a method for constructing
magnets of yet greater power than our cities possess can be effective
for re-distributing the population in a spontaneous and healthy manner.
So presented, the problem may appear at first sight to be difficult,
if not impossible, of solution. “What,” some may be disposed to
ask, “can possibly be done to make the country more attractive to
a work-a-day people than the town--to make wages, or at least the
standard of physical comfort, higher in the country than in the town;
to secure in the country equal possibilities of social intercourse,
and to make the prospects of advancement for the average man or woman
equal, not to say superior, to those enjoyed in our large cities?”
The issue one constantly finds presented in a form very similar to
that. The subject is treated continually in the public press, and in
all forms of discussion, as though men, or at least working-men, had
not now, and never could have, any choice or alternative, but either,
on the one hand, to stifle their love for human society--at least in
wider relations than can be found in a straggling village--or, on the
other hand, to forego almost entirely all the keen and pure delights
of the country. The question is universally considered as though it
were now, and for ever must remain, quite impossible for working
people to live in the country and yet be engaged in pursuits other
than agricultural; as though crowded, unhealthy cities were the last
word of economic science; and as if our present form of industry,
in which sharp lines divide agricultural from industrial pursuits,
were necessarily an enduring one. This fallacy is the very common one
of ignoring altogether the possibility of alternatives other than
those presented to the mind. There are in reality not only, as is so
constantly assumed, two alternatives--town life and country life--but
a third alternative, in which all the advantages of the most energetic
and active town life, with all the beauty and delight of the country,
may be secured in perfect combination; and the certainty of being able
to live this life will be the magnet which will produce the effect
for which we are all striving--the spontaneous movement of the people
from our crowded cities to the bosom of our kindly mother earth, at
once the source of life, of happiness, of wealth, and of power. The
town and the country may, therefore, be regarded as two magnets, each
striving to draw the people to itself--a rivalry which a new form of
life, partaking of the nature of both, comes to take part in. This may
be illustrated by a diagram of “The Three Magnets,” in which the chief
advantages of the Town and of the Country are set forth with their
corresponding drawbacks, while the advantages of the Town-Country are
seen to be free from the disadvantages of either.
[Illustration: THE THREE MAGNETS.
N^o. 1
]
The Town magnet, it will be seen, offers, as compared with the
Country magnet, the advantages of high wages, opportunities for
employment, tempting prospects of advancement, but these are largely
counterbalanced by high rents and prices. Its social opportunities
and its places of amusement are very alluring, but excessive hours of
toil, distance from work, and the “isolation of crowds” tend greatly
to reduce the value of these good things. The well-lit streets are a
great attraction, especially in winter, but the sunlight is being more
and more shut out, while the air is so vitiated that the fine public
buildings, like the sparrows, rapidly become covered with soot, and the
very statues are in despair. Palatial edifices and fearful slums are
the strange, complementary features of modern cities.
The Country magnet declares herself to be the source of all beauty and
wealth; but the Town magnet mockingly reminds her that she is very dull
for lack of society, and very sparing of her gifts for lack of capital.
There are in the country beautiful vistas, lordly parks, violet-scented
woods, fresh air, sounds of rippling water; but too often one sees
those threatening words, “Trespassers will be prosecuted.” Rents, if
estimated by the acre, are certainly low, but such low rents are the
natural fruit of low wages rather than a cause of substantial comfort;
while long hours and lack of amusements forbid the bright sunshine and
the pure air to gladden the hearts of the people. The one industry,
agriculture, suffers frequently from excessive rainfalls; but this
wondrous harvest of the clouds is seldom properly ingathered, so that,
in times of drought, there is frequently, even for drinking purposes,
a most insufficient supply.[1] Even the natural healthfulness of the
country is largely lost for lack of proper drainage and other sanitary
conditions, while, in parts almost deserted by the people, the few who
remain are yet frequently huddled together as if in rivalry with the
slums of our cities.
But neither the Town magnet nor the Country magnet represents the full
plan and purpose of nature. Human society and the beauty of nature are
meant to be enjoyed together. The two magnets must be made one. As man
and woman by their varied gifts and faculties supplement each other, so
should town and country. The town is the symbol of society--of mutual
help and friendly co-operation, of fatherhood, motherhood, brotherhood,
sisterhood, of wide relations between man and man--of broad, expanding
sympathies--of science, art, culture, religion. And the country! The
country is the symbol of God’s love and care for man. All that we are
and all that we have comes from it. Our bodies are formed of it; to it
they return. We are fed by it, clothed by it, and by it are we warmed
and sheltered. On its bosom we rest. Its beauty is the inspiration of
art, of music, of poetry. Its forces propel all the wheels of industry.
It is the source of all health, all wealth, all knowledge. But its
fulness of joy and wisdom has not revealed itself to man. Nor can it
ever, so long as this unholy, unnatural separation of society and
nature endures. Town and country _must be married_, and out of this
joyous union will spring a new hope, a new life, a new civilisation.
It is the purpose of this work to show how a first step can be taken
in this direction by the construction of a Town-country magnet; and I
hope to convince the reader that this is practicable, here and now, and
that on principles which are the very soundest, whether viewed from the
ethical or the economic standpoint.
I will undertake, then, to show how in “Town-country” equal, nay
better, opportunities of social intercourse may be enjoyed than are
enjoyed in any crowded city, while yet the beauties of nature may
encompass and enfold each dweller therein; how higher wages are
compatible with reduced rents and rates; how abundant opportunities for
employment and bright prospects of advancement may be secured for all;
how capital may be attracted and wealth created; how the most admirable
sanitary conditions may be ensured; how beautiful homes and gardens may
be seen on every hand; how the bounds of freedom may be widened, and
yet all the best results of concert and co-operation gathered in by a
happy people.
The construction of such a magnet, could it be effected, followed, as
it would be, by the construction of many more, would certainly afford a
solution of the burning question set before us by Sir John Gorst, “how
to back the tide of migration of the people into the towns, and to get
them back upon the land.”
A fuller description of such a magnet and its mode of construction will
form the theme of subsequent chapters.
FOOTNOTE:
[1] Dr. Barwise, Medical Officer of Health for the County Council of
Derbyshire, giving evidence before a Select Committee of the House of
Commons, on 25th April, 1894, on the Chesterfield Gas and Water Bill,
said, in answer to Question 1873: “At Brimington Common School I saw
some basins full of soapsuds, and it was all the water that the whole
of the children had to wash in. They had to wash one after another
in the same water. Of course, a child with ringworm or something of
that kind might spread it through the whole of the children.... The
schoolmistress told me that the children came in from the playground
hot, and she had seen them actually drink this dirty water. In fact,
when they were thirsty there was no other water for them to have.”
CHAPTER I.
THE TOWN-COUNTRY MAGNET.
“I will not cease from mental strife,
Nor shall my sword sleep in my hand,
Till we have built Jerusalem
In England’s green and pleasant land.”
--_Blake._
“Thorough sanitary and remedial action in the houses that we have; and
then the building of more, strongly, beautifully, and in groups of
limited extent, kept in proportion to their streams and walled round,
so that there may be no festering and wretched suburb anywhere, but
clean and busy street within and the open country without, with a belt
of beautiful garden and orchard round the walls, so that from any part
of the city perfectly fresh air and grass and sight of far horizon
might be reachable in a few minutes’ walk. This the final aim.”--John
Ruskin, “Sesame and Lilies.”
The reader is asked to imagine an estate embracing an area of
6,000 acres, which is at present purely agricultural, and has been
obtained by purchase in the open market at a cost of £40[2] an acre,
or £240,000. The purchase money is supposed to have been raised on
mortgage debentures, bearing interest at an average rate not exceeding
£4 per cent.[3] The estate is legally vested in the names of four
gentlemen of responsible position and of undoubted probity and honour,
who hold it in trust, first, as a security for the debenture-holders,
and, secondly, in trust for the people of Garden City, the Town-country
magnet, which it is intended to build thereon. One essential feature
of the plan is that all ground rents, which are to be based upon the
annual value of the land, shall be paid to the trustees, who, after
providing for interest and sinking fund, will hand the balance to
the Central Council of the new municipality,[4] to be employed by
such Council in the creation and maintenance of all necessary public
works--roads, schools, parks, etc.
The objects of this land purchase may be stated in various ways, but it
is sufficient here to say that some of the chief objects are these: To
find for our industrial population work at wages of _higher purchasing
power_, and to secure healthier surroundings and more regular
employment. To enterprising manufacturers, co-operative societies,
architects, engineers, builders, and mechanicians of all kinds, as
well as to many engaged in various professions, it is intended to
offer a means of securing new and better employment for their capital
and talents, while to the agriculturists at present on the estate, as
well as to those who may migrate thither, it is designed to open a
new market for their produce close to their doors. Its object is, in
short, to raise the standard of health and comfort of all true workers
of whatever grade--the means by which these objects are to be achieved
being a healthy, natural, and economic combination of town and country
life, and this on land owned by the municipality.
[Illustration: N^o. 2
Garden City]
Garden City, which is to be built near the centre of the 6,000 acres,
covers an area of 1,000 acres, or a sixth part of the 6,000 acres, and
might be of circular form, 1,240 yards (or nearly three-quarters of a
mile) from centre to circumference. (Diagram 2 is a ground-plan of the
whole municipal area, showing the town in the centre; and Diagram 3,
which represents one section or ward of the town, will be useful in
following the description of the town itself--=a description which is,
however, merely suggestive, and will probably be much departed from=.)
Six magnificent boulevards--each 120 feet wide--traverse the city from
centre to circumference, dividing it into six equal parts or wards. In
the centre is a circular space containing about five and a half acres,
laid out as a beautiful and well-watered garden; and, surrounding this
garden, each standing in its own ample grounds, are the larger public
buildings--town hall, principal concert and lecture hall, theatre,
library, museum, picture-gallery, and hospital.
[Illustration: N^o. 3.
WARD AND CENTRE Garden City]
The rest of the large space encircled by the “Crystal Palace” is a
public park, containing 145 acres, which includes ample recreation
grounds within very easy access of all the people.
Running all round the Central Park (except where it is intersected
by the boulevards) is a wide glass arcade called the “Crystal Palace,”
opening on to the park. This building is in wet weather one of the
favourite resorts of the people, whilst the knowledge that its bright
shelter is ever close at hand tempts people into Central Park, even
in the most doubtful of weathers. Here manufactured goods are exposed
for sale, and here most of that class of shopping which requires the
joy of deliberation and selection is done. The space enclosed by the
Crystal Palace is, however, a good deal larger than is required for
these purposes, and a considerable part of it is used as a Winter
Garden--the whole forming a permanent exhibition of a most attractive
character, whilst its circular form brings it near to every dweller in
the town--the furthest removed inhabitant being within 600 yards.
Passing out of the Crystal Palace on our way to the outer ring of the
town, we cross Fifth Avenue--lined, as are all the roads of the town,
with trees--fronting which, and looking on to the Crystal Palace, we
find a ring of very excellently-built houses, each standing in its
own ample grounds; and, as we continue our walk, we observe that the
houses are for the most part built either in concentric rings, facing
the various avenues (as the circular roads are termed), or fronting
the boulevards and roads, which all converge to the centre of the
town. Asking the friend who accompanies us on our journey what the
population of this little city may be, we are told about 30,000 in the
city itself, and about 2,000 in the agricultural estate, and that there
are in the town 5,500 building lots of an _average_ size of 20 feet ×
130 feet--the minimum space allotted for the purpose being 20 × 100.
Noticing the very varied architecture and design which the houses and
groups of houses display--some having common gardens and co-operative
kitchens--we learn that general observance of street line or harmonious
departure from it are the chief points as to house-building over which
the municipal authorities exercise control, for, though proper sanitary
arrangements are strictly enforced, the fullest measure of individual
taste and preference is encouraged.
Walking still toward the outskirts of the town, we come upon “Grand
Avenue.” This avenue is fully entitled to the name it bears, for it
is 420 feet wide,[5] and, forming a belt of green upwards of three
miles long, divides that part of the town which lies outside Central
Park into two belts. It really constitutes an additional park of
115 acres--a park which is within 240 yards of the furthest removed
inhabitant. In this splendid avenue six sites, each of four acres,
are occupied by public schools and their surrounding play-grounds
and gardens, while other sites are reserved for churches, of such
denominations as the religious beliefs of the people may determine,
to be erected and maintained out of the funds of the worshippers and
their friends. We observe that the houses fronting on Grand Avenue have
departed (at least in one of the wards--that of which Diagram 3 is a
representation)--from the general plan of concentric rings, and, in
order to ensure a longer line of frontage on Grand Avenue, are arranged
in crescents--thus also to the eye yet further enlarging the already
splendid width of Grand Avenue.
On the outer ring of the town are factories, warehouses, dairies,
markets, coal yards, timber yards, etc., all fronting on the circle
railway, which encompasses the whole town, and which has sidings
connecting it with a main line of railway which passes through the
estate. This arrangement enables goods to be loaded direct into trucks
from the warehouses and workshops, and so sent by railway to distant
markets, or to be taken direct from the trucks into the warehouses or
factories; thus not only effecting a very great saving in regard to
packing and cartage, and reducing to a minimum loss from breakage, but
also, by reducing the traffic on the roads of the town, lessening to a
very marked extent the cost of their maintenance. The smoke fiend is
kept well within bounds in Garden City; for all machinery is driven
by electric energy, with the result that the cost of electricity for
lighting and other purposes is greatly reduced.
The refuse of the town is utilised on the agricultural portions of the
estate, which are held by various individuals in large farms, small
holdings, allotments, cow pastures, etc.; the natural competition of
these various methods of agriculture, tested by the willingness of
occupiers to offer the highest rent to the municipality, tending to
bring about the best system of husbandry, or, what is more probable,
the best _systems_ adapted for various purposes. Thus it is easily
conceivable that it may prove advantageous to grow wheat in very large
fields, involving united action under a capitalist farmer, or by a
body of co-operators; while the cultivation of vegetables, fruits, and
flowers, which requires closer and more personal care, and more of the
artistic and inventive faculty, may possibly be best dealt with by
individuals, or by small groups of individuals having a common belief
in the efficacy and value of certain dressings, methods of culture, or
artificial and natural surroundings.
This plan, or, if the reader be pleased to so term it, this absence
of plan, avoids the dangers of stagnation or dead level, and, though
encouraging individual initiative, permits of the fullest co-operation,
while the increased rents which follow from this form of competition
are common or municipal property, and by far the larger part of them
are expended in permanent improvements.
While the town proper, with its population engaged in various
trades, callings, and professions, and with a store or depôt in each
ward, offers the most natural market to the people engaged on the
agricultural estate, inasmuch as to the extent to which the townspeople
demand their produce they escape altogether any railway rates and
charges; yet the farmers and others are not by any means limited to the
town as their only market, but have the fullest right to dispose of
their produce to whomsoever they please. Here, as in every feature of
the experiment, it will be seen that it is not the area of rights which
is contracted, but the area of choice which is enlarged.
This principle of freedom holds good with regard to manufacturers and
others who have established themselves in the town. These manage their
affairs in their own way, subject, of course, to the general law of
the land, and subject to the provision of sufficient space for workmen
and reasonable sanitary conditions. Even in regard to such matters as
water, lighting, and telephonic communication--which a municipality,
if efficient and honest, is certainly the best and most natural body
to supply--no rigid or absolute monopoly is sought; and if any
private corporation or any body of individuals proved itself capable
of supplying on more advantageous terms, either the whole town or a
section of it, with these or any commodities the supply of which was
taken up by the corporation, this would be allowed. No really sound
system of _action_ is in more need of artificial support than is any
sound system of _thought_. The area of municipal and corporate action
is probably destined to become greatly enlarged; but, if it is to be
so, it will be because the people possess faith in such action, and
that faith can be best shown by a wide extension of the area of freedom.
Dotted about the estate are seen various charitable and philanthropic
institutions. These are not under the control of the municipality, but
are supported and managed by various public-spirited people who have
been invited by the municipality to establish these institutions in an
open healthy district, and on land let to them at a pepper-corn rent,
it occurring to the authorities that they can the better afford to be
thus generous, as the spending power of these institutions greatly
benefits the whole community. Besides, as those persons who migrate to
the town are among its most energetic and resourceful members, it is
but just and right that their more helpless brethren should be able to
enjoy the benefits of an experiment which is designed for humanity at
large.
FOOTNOTES:
[2] This was the average price paid for agricultural land in 1898: and,
though this estimate may prove far more than sufficient, it is hardly
likely to be much exceeded.
[3] The financial arrangements described in this book are likely to
be departed from in form, but not in essential principle. And until
a definite scheme has been agreed upon, I think it better to repeat
them precisely as they appeared in “To-Morrow,” the original title
of this book--the book which led to the formation of the Garden City
Association. See Appendix.
[4] This word, “municipality,” is not used in a technical sense.
[5] Portland Place, London, is only 100 feet wide.