II Alien Admission and Restriction
Unrestricted immigration is doing much to cause deterioration in the quality of American citizenship. Let us resolve that America shall be neither a hermit nation nor a Botany Bay. Let us make our land a home for the oppressed of all nations, but not a dumping-ground for the criminals, the paupers, the cripples, and the illiterate of the world. Let our Republic, in its crowded and hazardous future, adopt these watchwords, to be made good all along our oceanic and continental borders: “Welcome for the worthy, protection to the patriotic, but no shelter in America for those who would destroy the American shelter itself.”—Joseph Cook.
It is not the migration of a few thousand or even million human beings from one part of the world to another nor their good or bad fortune that is of interest to us. We are concerned with the effect of such a movement on the community at large and its growth in civilization. Immigration, for instance, means the constant infusion of new blood into the American commonwealth, and the question is: What effect will this new blood have upon the character of the community?—Professor Mayo-Smith.
It is advisable to study the influence of the newcomers on the ethical consciousness of the community—whether there is a gain or a loss to us. In short, we must set up our standard of what we desire this nation to be, and then consider whether the policy we have hitherto pursued in regard to immigration is calculated to maintain that standard or to endanger it.—Idem.
I. Method of Admission
Chief Ports of Entry
How do immigrants obtain entrance into the United States? New York is the chief port of entry, and if we learn the conditions and methods there we shall know them in general. The great proportion coming through New York is seen by comparison of the total admissions for 1904 and 1905 at the larger ports:
| Port | 1904 | 1905 |
|---|---|---|
| New York | 606,019 | 788,219 |
| Boston | 60,278 | 65,107 |
| Baltimore | 55,940 | 62,314 |
| Philadelphia | 19,467 | 23,824 |
| Honolulu | 9,054 | 11,997 |
| San Francisco | 9,036 | 6,377 |
| Other Ports | 22,702 | 24,447 |
| Through Canada | 30,374 | 44,214 |
The Floating Gateway
The proportion for New York is not far from eight tenths of the whole. Hence it is true, that while the “dirty little ferryboat John G. Carlisle is not an imposing object to the material eye, to the eye of the imagination she is a spectacle to inspire awe, for she is the floating gateway of the Republic. Over her dingy decks march in endless succession the eager battalions of Europe’s peaceful invaders of the West. That single craft, in her hourly trips from Ellis Island to the Battery,13 carries more immigrants in a year than came over in all the fleets of the nations in the two centuries after John Smith landed at Jamestown.”14
Human Storage Reservoirs
Reading about the arrivals at Ellis Island, no matter how realistic the description, will not give a vivid idea of what immigration means nor of what sort the immigrants are. For that, you must obtain a permit from the authorities and actually see for yourself the human stream that pours from the steerage of the mighty steamships into the huge human storage reservoirs of Ellis Island.15 We know that however perfect the system, human nature has to be taken into account, both in officials and immigrants, and human nature is imperfect; much of it at Ellis Island is exceedingly difficult to deal patiently with. Hence, from the very nature of things and men, the situation is one to develop pathos, humor, comedy, and tragedy, as the great “human sifting machine” works away at separating the wheat from the chaff. The tragedy comes in the case of the excluded, since the blow falls sometimes between parents and children, husband and wife, lover and sweetheart, and the decree of exclusion is as bitter as death.
Make Yourself an Imaginary Immigrant
To make the manner and method of getting into America by the steerage process as real as possible, try to put yourself in an alien’s place, and see what you would have to go through. Do not take immigration at its worst, but rather at its best, or at least above the average conditions. Assume that you belong to the more intelligent and desirable class, finding a legitimate reason for leaving your home in Europe, because of hard conditions and poor outlook there and bright visions of fortune in the land of liberty, whither relatives have preceded you. Your steamship ticket is bought in your native town, and you have no care concerning fare or baggage. A number of people of your race and neighborhood are on the way, so that you are not alone.
The Ship’s Manifest
Before embarking you are made to answer a long list of questions, filling out your “manifest,” or official record which the law requires the vessel-masters to obtain, attest, and deliver to the government officers at the entrance port.16
Numbered and Lettered
Your answers proving satisfactory to the transportation agents, a card is furnished you, containing your name, the letter of the group of thirty to which you are assigned, and your group number. Thus you become, for the time being, No. 27 of group E. You are cautioned to keep this card in sight, as a ready means of identification.
The Voyage
Partings over, you enter upon the strange and unforgetable experiences of ten days or more in the necessarily cramped quarters of the steerage—experiences of a kind that do not invite repetition. Homesickness and seasickness form a trying combination, to say nothing of the discomforts of a mixed company and enforced companionship.
First Experiences in the New World
Your first American experience befalls you when the steamship anchors at quarantine inside Sandy Hook, and the United States inspection officers come on board to hunt for infectious or contagious diseases—cholera, smallpox, typhus fever, yellow fever, or plague. No outbreak of any of these has marked the voyage, fortunately for you, and there is no long delay. Slowly the great vessel pushes its way up the harbor and the North River, passing the statue of Liberty Enlightening the World, that beacon which all incomers are enjoined to see as the symbol of the new liberty they hope to enjoy.
Ship Landing
At last the voyage is done, your steamship lies at her pier, and you are thrust into the midst of distractions. Families are trying to keep together; the din is indescribable; crying babies add to the general confusion of tongues; all sorts of people with all sorts of baggage are making ready for the landing, which seems a long time off as you wait for the customs officers to get through with the first-class passengers. At last word is given to go ashore, and the procession or pushing movement rather begins. You are hurried along, up a companionway, lugging your hand baggage; then down the long gangway on to the pier and the soil of America.
Unnecessary Cruelty
It is not a pleasant landing in the land of light and liberty. You have been sworn at, pushed, punched with a stick for not moving faster when you could not, and have seen others treated much more roughly. Just in front of you a poor woman is trying to get up the companionway with a child in one arm, a deck chair on the other, and a large bundle besides. She blocks the passage for an instant. A great burly steward reaches up, drags her down, tears the chair off her arm, splitting her sleeve and scraping the skin off her wrist as he does so, and then in his rage breaks the chair to pieces, while the woman passes on sobbing, not daring to remonstrate.17 This is not the first treatment of this sort you have seen, and you feel powerless to help, though your blood boils at the outrage.
Unpleasant Beginnings
As you pass down the gangway your number is taken by an officer with a mechanical checker, and then you become part of the curious crowd gathered in the great somber building, filled with freight, much of it human. Here there is confusion worse confounded, as separated groups try to get together and dock watchmen try to keep them in place. Many believe their baggage has been stolen, and mothers are sure their children have been kidnaped or lost. The dockmen are violent, not hesitating to use their sticks, and you find yourself more than once in danger, although you strive to obey orders you do not understand very well, since they are shouted out in savage manner. The inspector reaches you finally, and you are hustled along in a throng to the barge that is waiting. You are tired and hungry, having had no food since early breakfast. Your dreams of America seem far from reality just now. You are almost too weary to care what next.
America’s Gateway
The next is Ellis Island, whose great building looks inviting. Out of the barge you are swept with the crowd, baggage in hand or on head or shoulder, and on to the grand entrance. As you ascend the broad stairs, an officer familiar with many languages is shouting out, first in one tongue and then another, “Get your health tickets ready.” You notice that the only available place many have in which to carry these tickets is in their mouths, since their hands are full of children or baggage.
(A) Entrance stairs; (B) Examination of health ticket; (C) Surgeon’s examination; (D) Second surgeon’s examination; (E) Group compartments; (F) Waiting for inspection; (G) Passage to the stairway; (H) Detention room; (I) The Inspectors’ desks; (K) Outward passage to barge, ferry, or detention room.
Medical Inspection
At the head of the long pair of stairs you meet a uniformed officer (a doctor in the Marine Hospital Service), who takes your ticket, glances at it, and stamps it with the Ellis Island stamp. Counting the quarantine officer as number one, you have now passed officer number two. At the head of the stairs you find yourself in a great hall, divided into two equal parts, each part filled with curious railed-off compartments. Directed by an officer, you are turned into a narrow alleyway, and here you meet officer number three, in uniform like the second. The keen eyes of this doctor sweep you at a glance, from feet to head. You do not know it, but this is the first medical inspection by a surgeon of the Marine Hospital Service, and it causes a halt, although only for a moment. When the person immediately in front of you reaches this doctor, you see that he pushes back the shawl worn over her head, gives a nod, and puts a chalk mark upon her. He is on the keen lookout for favus (contagious skin disease), and for signs of disease or deformity. The old man who limps along a little way behind you has a chalk mark put on his coat lapel, and you wonder why they do not chalk you.
Examination of Eyes
You are now about ten or fifteen feet behind your front neighbor, and as you are motioned to follow, about thirty feet further on you confront another uniformed surgeon (officer number four), who has a towel hanging beside him, a small instrument in his hand, and a basin of disinfectants behind him. You have little time for wonder or dread. With a deft motion he applies the instrument to your eye and turns up the lid, quickly shutting it down again, then repeats the operation upon the other eye. He is looking for the dreaded contagious trachoma or for purulent ophthalmia; also for disease of any kind, or any defect that would make it lawful and wise to send you back whence you came. You have now been twice examined, and passed as to soundness of body, freedom from lameness or defect, general healthfulness, and absence of eye disease or pulmonary weakness.
Detention Room
The Wicket Gate
As you move along to the inclosed space of your group E, you note that the lame man and the woman who were chalk-marked are sent into another railed-off space, known as the “detention pen,” where they must await a more rigid medical examination. One other inspector you have faced—a woman, whose sharp eyes seem to read the characters of the women as they come up to her “wicket gate;” for it is her duty to stop the suspicious and immoral characters and send them to the detention rooms or special inquiry boards. Thus you have passed five government officers since landing on the Island. They have been courteous and kindly, but impress you as knowing their business so well that they can readily see through fraud and deception.
Entrance Examination
The entrance ordeal is not quite over, but for a little while you rest on the wooden bench in your E compartment, waiting until the group is assembled, all save those sent away for detention. Suddenly you are told to come on, and in single file E group marches along the narrow railed alley that leads to officer number six, or the inspector who holds E sheet in his hand. When it comes your turn, your manifest is produced and you are asked a lot of questions. A combined interpreter and registry clerk is at hand to assist. The interpreter pleases you greatly by speaking in your own language, which he rightly guesses, and notes whether your answers agree with those on the manifest.
The Ticket System
As you have the good fortune to be honest, and have sufficient money to escape being halted as likely to become a public charge, you are ticketed “O. K.” with an “R” which means that you are bound for a railroad station. You see a ticket “S. I.” on the lame man, which means that he is to go to a Board of Special Inquiry, with the chances of being debarred, or sent back home. On another, as you pass, you notice a ticket “L. P. C.,” which signifies the dreaded decision, “liable to become public charge”—a decision that means deportation.
The Three Stairs of Separation
All this time you have been guided. Now you are directed to a desk where your railroad ticket-order is stamped; next to a banker’s desk, where your money is exchanged for American money; and finally you are motioned to the right stairway of three, this leading to the railroad barge room. Here your baggage is checked and your ticket provided, a bag of food is offered you, and then you are taken on board a barge which will convey you to the railroad station. You have left your fellow-voyagers abruptly, all save the railroad-ticketed like yourself. Had you been destined for New York, you would have gone down the left stairway and been free to take the ferryboat for the Battery. If you had expected friends to meet you, the central stairway would have led you to the waiting room for that purpose. Those three stairways are called “The Stairs of Separation,” and there families are sometimes ruthlessly separated without warning, when bound for different destinations.
Careful Supervision
The officers, who have treated you courteously, in strong contrast to the steamship and dock employees, keep track of you until you are safely on board an immigrant car, bound for the place where your relatives are. Your ideas of great New York are limited, but you have been saved by this official supervision from being swindled by sharpers or enticed into evil. You are practically in charge of the railway company, as you have been of the steamship company, until you are deposited at the station where you expect to make your home. You are ready to believe, by this time, that America is at least a spacious country, with room enough in it for all who want to come. At the same time you will admit, as you recall some of your fellow-passengers in the steerage, that there should not be room in the country for those who ought not to come—not only the diseased and insane, crippled and consumptive, who are shut out by the law, but also the delinquent and depraved, whose presence means added ignorance and crime. You only wish the inspectors could have seen some of those shameless men on shipboard, so that in spite of their smooth answers they might have been sent back whence they came, to prey upon the innocent there instead of here. Now that it is all over, you shudder for a long time at night as memory recalls the steerage scenes, through which your faith in God and your constant prayers preserved you.18
The Alien’s Chance
In such manner the alien gains his chance to become an American. What he will make of that chance is a matter of grave importance to the land that has opened to him the doors of opportunity and liberty. Having seen how the immigrants get into the United States, let us now see how they are kept out. When we know what the restrictive laws are, and how they are enforced or evaded, we shall be in a position to judge as to their sufficiency, and the need of further legislation.
II. Governmental Regulation
Evasion and Violation
The United States has some excellent immigration laws, the best and most extensive of any nation, as one would expect, since this is the nation to which nearly all immigrants come. The trouble is that every attempt is made to evade these laws, and where they cannot be evaded they are violated. The laws are of two classes: 1. Protective, in favor of the immigrant; and 2. Restrictive, in favor of the country.
Protection for the Immigrant
There is a law against overcrowding on shipboard, going back as far as 1819, but overcrowding has gone on ever since.19 There seems to be no doubt that even on the best steamships of the best lines there is ready disregard of the law when it interferes with the profits to be made out of the steerage. Strong evidence to this effect is given by Mr. Brandenburg. Here is a condensed leaf from his own experience which shows how much regard is paid to the comfort and health of the steerage passengers:20
Steerage Horrors
“In a compartment from nine to ten feet high and having a space no larger than six ordinary rooms, were beds for 195 persons, and 214 women and children occupied them. The ventilation was merely what was to be had from the companionway that opened into the alleyway and not on the deck, the few ports in the ship’s sides, and the scanty ventilating shafts. The beds were double-tiered affairs in blocks of from ten to twenty, constructed of iron framework, with iron slats in checker fashion to support the burlap-covered bag of straw, grass, or waste which served as a mattress. Pillows there were none, only cork jacket life-preservers stuck under one end of the mattress to give the elevation of a pillow. One blanket served the purpose of all bedclothing; it was a mixture of wool, cotton, and jute, predominantly jute; the length of a man’s body and a yard and a half wide. For such quarters and accommodations the emigrant pays half the sum that would buy a first-class passage. A comparison of the two classes shows where the steamship company makes the most money.
Feeding Like Animals
“Enrolled in the blanket each person found a fork, spoon, pint tin cup, and a flaring six-inch-wide, two-inch-deep pan out of which to eat. The passengers were instructed to form groups of six and choose a mess-manager, who was supposed to take the big pan and bucket, get the dinner and drinkables, and distribute the portions to his group. After the meal, some member was supposed to collect the tin utensils and wash them ready for next time. But the crowd in the wash-room was so great that about one third of the people chose to rinse off the things with a dash of drinking water, others never washed their cups and pans. Yet the emigrant pays half the first-cabin rate for fighting for his food, serving it himself, and washing his own dishes. The food was in its quality good, but the manner in which it was messed into one heap in the big pan was nothing short of nauseating. After the first meal the emigrants began throwing the refuse on the deck instead of over the side or into the scuppers. The result can be imagined. It was an extremely hot night, and the air in the crowded compartment was so foul I could not sleep. The men and boys about me lay for the most part like logs, hats, coats, and shoes off, and no more, sleeping the sleep of the tired.
Remedy Proposed
“My wife said the babies in her compartment were crying in relays of six, the women had scattered bits of macaroni, meat, and potatoes all over the beds and on the floor, and added dishwater as a final discomfort. Two thirds of the emigrants were as clean as circumstances would permit, but the other third kept all in a reign of uncleanliness. The worst could not be put into print. The remedy for the whole matter is to pack fewer people in the same ship’s space, and a regular service at tables. The big emigrant-carriers should be forced to give up a part of their enormous profits in order that sanitary conditions at least may prevail.”
Laws Rigidly Enforced
Steerage Reforms Needed
This certainly is not an unreasonable demand, and proper laws with regard to the steerage rigidly enforced would tend to discourage immigration, instead of the reverse, since the rates would doubtless be raised as the numbers were lowered. Cruel treatment of the helpless aliens by the stewards and ship’s officers should be stopped. Mr Brandenburg’s description, which by no means tells the whole story of steerage horrors, should serve to institute reform through the creation of a public sentiment that will demand it. There is no other way to reach such conditions; and here is where the young people can exert their influence powerfully for good. Money greed should not be allowed to make the steerage a disgrace to Christian civilization and an offense to common decency. Of course it is difficult to detect what goes on in the hold of a great steamship, and when immigrants make complaint they frequently suffer for it. It is possible, however, to provide government inspectors, and inspectors who will inspect and remain proof against bribes. The one essential is a sufficiently strong and insistent public opinion.