Imported Americans: The Story of the Experiences of a Disguised American and His Wife Studying the Immigration QuestionBrandenburg, Broughton
History
Imported Americans: The Story of the Experiences of a Disguised American and His Wife Studying the Immigration Question
Brandenburg, Broughton
Italy -- Emigration and immigration; United States -- Emigration and immigration
We had chosen the _Prinzessin Irene_ because she is the largest and best
emigrant-carrying ship in the trade, and the line to which she belongs
stands toward the front among the others in its treatment of the
third-class passengers. People who have crossed many times and know all
the ins and outs of steerage travel prefer the _Lahn_ or the _Prinzessin
Irene_, so that we knew we should find the minimum of abuse in her. What
must the conditions be in ships in the northern trade and in the cheaper
ships running from Mediterranean ports. Almost the only time that the
third-class people were treated as passengers was at the time of
planking down their 200 lire. The men of the crew were inclined to treat
them as inferior beings, to be knocked and pushed about, and I regret to
say they took their cue from their immediate superiors.
The third day of the voyage was Sunday, and the weather was improving.
The seasick people began to think life worth clinging to. The _capo di
rancio_ crowd at dinner was nearly the full size. My wife looked once at
the mixture in the big pan and then turned away. Though I knew what the
matter was I asked her.
“I was just thinking how far, how very far it is to Martin’s,” she said
with a tremble in her voice.
Knowing full well that there are always secret channels on board a ship
for the getting of food if one has money, I had been trying every
steward, cook, page, etc., I could corner, and offering ridiculous
prices for something to eat. Not that the food for the steerage was so
bad we could not eat it. We had been eating it, and we expected to
continue to eat it; but we wanted a supply to fill in with on those
occasions when it was not what we wanted. When I sailed as a member of
the crew in ships of the Hamburg-American and American lines, a very
good source of revenue to the cooks and stewards was the secret sale of
food to the third-class passengers who had money. On the _Lahn_ we had
been able to buy everything we wished. The trouble on the _Prinzessin
Irene_ on this voyage was that the inspector was aboard. At last,
however, I found a petty officer who had a cabin down the alley-way, and
I “persuaded” him. The result was a sudden and gracious increase in our
comforts in all that one could expect in the steerage. The only drawback
was the necessity for extreme care in coming and going.
[Illustration: Half a Dozen Races on Common Ground—His Brothcup—The
Immigrant Madonna]
In the Sunday afternoon chatting around deck, where the people sat on
the hatches, the deck, the winches, in fact, anywhere they could get,
there being no place in the entire steerage section that was distinctly
intended for sitting down, I found numbers of people who had squeezed
through the examination at Naples by little hooks and crooks.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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