THE miracle of assimilation wrought upon the older type of immigration, gives to many of us, at least the hope, that the Slavs, Jews, Italians, Hungarians and Greeks will blend into our life as easily as did the Germans, the Scandinavians and the Irish.
The new immigrant, or the new American, as I call him, is however in many respects, more of an alien than that older class which was related to the native stock by race, speech, or religious ties. Therefore, I recognize the fact that it is easy to be too optimistic about this assimilation, and to regard the Americanizing of the stranger accomplished, when he discards his picturesque native garb and speech, to disappear in the commonplaceness of our attire; or when he has mastered the intricacies of American idioms.
Outwardly the changes will be the same as those which have taken place among the older immigrants, accomplished with the same dispatch, even where the foreigners are segregated in their own quarters. I have in mind a Polish colony of some six thousand souls in a New England town where there are Polish churches, Polish schools, Polish “butchers, bakers, and candlestick-makers”; and yet if you walk through that section of the city you will see the women who a few years ago, when they landed, wore the numberless short skirts and picturesque waists of their own making, now sweeping the dust with long trailing skirts, their ample forms encased in corsets and shirt-waists; while here and there you will hear even the rustle of the silk lining.
The boys who upon landing wore coarse linen trousers and shirts have long ago rebelled against these marks of their Old Country lineage, and their fathers have bought them the short trousers and shirt-waists, which make them look like young Americans.
If you are careful to observe, you will see that the children wear stockings and underwear; luxuries undreamed of in the Old World, where boots and shoes were the signs of manhood or womanhood, and where stockings were unknown to the peasantry, being the marks of a high calling and fine breeding.
Especially on Sunday that quarter of the town looks resplendent in its newness, and the latest American fashions are reflected by the women who are never a season behind in expanding or reducing to proper proportions, their sleeves, which they wear short or long, very nearly as the ladies do, who at that moment have entered the portals of the great meeting house, the bulwark of American ideals in New England. It is true that they all still eat black bread, drink vodka, and say: “Pshas creff” when angry; but in eating, drinking and swearing, the whole colony is on the way to complete Americanization, and one need have no fear that externally the Slav, Italian and Jew will not “eat of the fruit of the tree of the garden and become like one of us.”
The same thing is a fact in the matter of external racial characteristics. The things which seem to us the most ineradicable and written as if by an “iron pen upon the rock” are in most cases but chalk marks on a blackboard, so easily are they washed away.
These things created by long ages of neglect, hunger, persecution and climate, are often lost within one generation. The crowd on Rivington Street in New York looks less Jewish than that in Warsaw, and the Bohemians in Chicago look so like “us,” that in spite of the fact that I have some training in detecting racial marks, I am often puzzled and mistaken.
IN AN EVENING SCHOOL. NEW YORK. American, Armenian, Austrian, Bohemian, Cuban, Dane, Dutch, Finlander, French, German, Greek, Hungarian, Irish, Italian, Japanese, Mexican, Negro, Norwegian, Pole, Roumanian, Russian, Scotch, Slovak, Spanish, Swede, Swiss. Can you tell them apart?
IN AN EVENING SCHOOL. NEW YORK.
American, Armenian, Austrian, Bohemian, Cuban, Dane, Dutch, Finlander,
French, German, Greek, Hungarian, Irish, Italian, Japanese, Mexican,
Negro, Norwegian, Pole, Roumanian, Russian, Scotch, Slovak, Spanish,
Swede, Swiss. Can you tell them apart?
Give me the immigrant on board of ship, and I will distinguish without hesitation the Bulgarian from the Servian, the Slovak from the Russian, and the Northern Italian from the Sicilian; but as I have said, I often have the greatest difficulty in accomplishing such a feat, two or three years after the men have landed. It is true that in the first generation, the old racial marks still lie in the foreground, and that even in the second generation, the blood will speak out here and there; but it will require a very sharp scrutiny to detect this, and in the most cases there will be no hint of the past.
In Chicago, Cedar Rapids, Iowa, St. Louis and St. Paul I have addressed audiences composed of Slavs and of native Americans; and I have vainly tried to distinguish them one from the other in the mass, although of course when I had a very close and long look, I could make my differentiation. These racial marks are most tenacious among certain Orientals where strange strains of blood have accentuated the difference; but I have seen some Armenians, people bearing the mark of their race most strongly, who after ten years of life in America, had lost the peculiar sharpness of their features and were in that stage of transition where the American image was being imprinted upon them.
Scarcely a foreigner returns home after a long sojourn in America without hearing at every step that he looks different. The Jew on board of ship, to whom I have previously referred, who was warned not to wear an American flag because it might cost him money in Europe, was right when he said: “They will see it in mine face that I am from America.”
I do not wish to be as dogmatic in my assertions as Mr. Prescott F. Hall, the Secretary of the Restriction Immigration League is in his. He believes that we shall be the inheritors of all the disagreeable racial characteristics which the immigrant brings with him. It is still too early to foretell; the new American has not been long enough with us, and moreover the whole question of racial characteristics is still an open one.
Nevertheless in face of the undisputed fact that these outward racial marks disappear, may we not also believe that with them go the peculiar racial qualities which mark and mar the life of the stranger?
Mr. Hall has many figures with which to prove his side of the case; I have but a few facts gathered from rather intimate association with certain groups of foreigners.
Take for instance the Polish peasant. It is a fact that in the Old World he is known for his inability to distinguish between “mine and thine,” and between truth and falsehood. The Polish proverb says: “The peasant will steal anything except millstones and hot iron,” and I know of instances where the only thing untrue about the saying was the last saving clause. In this country I have been in nearly every one of the Polish communities and neither thieving nor lying is laid to their charge. The little town of Marblehead, Ohio, located in a peninsula in Lake Erie is peopled largely by Poles and Slovaks who find employment in the large stone quarries. Around them are prosperous farms, large orchards and vineyards. I took pains to inquire especially what was the attitude of these Slavs towards stock, chickens, and fruit which did not belong to them; and not one of the neighbouring farmers complained of having had anything stolen from his premises, although these Slavs have lived in that neighbourhood nearly twenty years.
In the Old World pigs had to be locked in their sties; they were not safe even after they were butchered. Grain disappeared, even when it was vigilantly guarded from the time it was a blade of grass until it was in the barn. The Polish and Slovak peasants were thievish in the Old Country because they were hungry, and their wage was not sufficient to buy enough bread. In Marblehead they have bread enough and to spare, as well as meat and fruit for little money—they do not have to steal.
In the Old World they lied and stole because they were driven by necessity. When a Polish regiment came to any town in Austria, women had to be especially guarded against their lust; but no such charge has been brought against the regiments of young labourers who have come to American cities, and who are everywhere regarded as chaste as their American brothers. In the matter of intemperance they have so far remained as bad as their reputation; but the average mining camp is rarely in a Prohibition district and the example set by the Americans they meet is not conducive to sobriety.
The Jew is certainly distinctive; his faith and fate alike have guarded his racial qualities; yet he must be blind indeed, who does not see a vast change going on, within as well as without. The Jew is still a sharp bargainer, but in that peculiarity the Yankee is giving him “pointers,” and he will have to grow sharper still if he wishes to keep up in the race. His business talent is likely to increase because he is in a business atmosphere; but his business methods will change and have changed, because his inner being is undergoing a transformation. Subtle as these changes are I have traced them and can detect them even in the crowd which is a far different mass from that of the Jews of Europe, a fact which recently I saw very clearly illustrated.
It was the Jewish anniversary of the death of the great Zionist leader, Theodore Hertzl. In front of the Grand Opera House in Hartford, Conn., were large Yiddish placards announcing the fact, and all the evening crowds of men, women and children passed into the building filling every available space on floor and in galleries. The dignitaries of Hartford’s Jewry sat in the boxes, and young men and women passed through the crowd, securing members for the various Jewish societies. It was an orderly assembly, more orderly than any synagogue meeting I ever attended in Russia. America had toned them down, they were less excited, although even here a policeman had quite a hard task in disposing of one man who insisted upon entering, in spite of the fact that he had lost his ticket.
These people had learned the first lesson in self-government—self-control; or rather, they were in the way of learning it. They still swayed to and fro with the movement of the speaker, a habit acquired in the Talmud schools and practiced at their worship; but one could see the younger element holding the older in check, and the older keeping itself in check for the sake of its children who had learned American ways. There was an indescribable gain in their looks, in those faces where greed, suffering and brutal hate had left their deep traces.
It was a look of hope akin to joy, some such triumphant gladness as the Jew would feel if the portals of his New Jerusalem were to open again to the King of Glory. My own heart throbbed gladly when I beheld them for I saw the gain they had made in manhood and womanhood.
The program was also a hopeful thing. It was long enough for the meeting of one of our learned societies and the men had the habit of stealing one another’s text and time; but whether they were apt learners or had imported the habit I do not know. The first address was by the mayor of the city and he was greeted like a friend and spoke like one. It was not the flattering speech of a politician but a scholarly, sympathetic address, of one who knew Israel’s past and who sympathized with her aspirations. He knew all about the Zionist movement and about Dr. Hertzl and spoke as one who was thoroughly acquainted with his subject. After he had finished speaking the chairman said, “Whenever I hear a Christian speak of Israel as this man has spoken, I feel like saying, ‘Almost thou persuadest me to be a Christian.’”
On the whole it may be said that these new Americans are in that stage of cultural development or undevelopment, which makes it probable that so strong and virile a people as that among whom their lot is cast, will impress them so forcibly, that those things which we call racial characteristics will after a while disappear.
Whether we shall enrich this New American by our own ideals, whether we shall implant in him the broad culture of our own spiritual and intellectual heritage, is a real problem whose solving may puzzle even future generations.
I do not believe that any of the people who come to us, speaking of races and nationalities as a whole, are degenerate, or so hardened that they are not capable of assimilation and transformation. Although as I have said, this cannot yet be proved by our own experience, we can reason with some assurance from the experience of countries in which these strangers who come to us are also regarded as aliens and subjects; and where their way upward is retarded rather than helped as it is on this side of the great sea.
Let me take as an example the Slovak, one of the crudest Slavic types, who bears all the marks of the Slav in his features and in all his inner being. In his own home he belonged to a subject race; for the Magyar being more powerful and more warlike, was his ruler. In the villages where this Slovak lives he has been in touch with the Magyar and also with the Germanic element, to a greater or less degree. I have noticed this: That wherever he has had a chance, wherever political and economic difficulties were not too great, he grew into the full stature of the man above him; and in the long struggle for racial supremacy in Hungary, the Slav has not yet said the last word. Physically, morally and spiritually, he equals the Magyar or the German; that is, wherever the opportunity is not taken from him by wrong economic and political adjustment.
I hold no brief for the Slovak or for any Slav; there are many things in his nature which are repellent. He is too much of a realist by nature for my taste, and there is a certain kind of crudeness and cruelty in his make up, from both of which I have had occasion to suffer. Yet in spite of these handicaps I believe that, given the proper environment and the proper example, or if you please the proper masters, he will develop into that kind of American which we, the average, are. He usually takes more than he leaves behind; he inherits more than he bequeaths; he is human material in the rough; very, very rough but human material nevertheless. Made of as good clay as any of us, although perhaps not yet fashioned into the best mould. The moulding will be the problem; for the New American is more Slavic than anything else.
A SLAV OF THE BALKANS Sometimes crude, often very rough human material. To mould him is the problem, a problem too, not so difficult as many think.
A SLAV OF THE BALKANS
Sometimes crude, often very rough human material. To mould him is the
problem, a problem too, not so difficult as many think.
The Jews, a subject race everywhere, have suffered so much from friends and foes alike, that to defend or accuse them would be a work of supererogation. It is, however, undeniably true, that Judaism in America faces a greater crisis than it faced in the captivity of Babylon. There Judaism was made, here it is being unmade; there foes tried to make the Jews forget Jerusalem, here their friends have difficulty in making them remember it; there a hope of the Messiah grew up within them, here the term is so strange to them that it needs reiteration and interpretation. The loss to Judaism in America amounts to a catastrophe, and from the present outlook its complete dissolution is merely a matter of time, only retarded by the constant influx of immigrants from Russia and Poland. The average Jew in America has become so American that he does not remember the hole from which he was dug, or that Abraham was his father and that Sarah bore him.
A certain vague racial fealty holds one Jew to the other; but a strong and mighty passion holds him to America, making him so much an American and so little a Jew. It may be true that the leopard does not change his spots; but even the leopard may lose his spots when he does not need them. Many of the racial marks of Jew and Gentile alike will disappear when the need of them passes away; and they will take on readily other marks which fit them for a better environment.
The problem with the Jew is not how to make him less a Jew; but how to make him a better Jew, and consequently a better American; for Judaism properly interpreted has in it all the elements to make of men good citizens, good neighbours and good friends.
At the conclusion of a lecture recently, a rather stupid but zealous man asked me regarding the Jews. “Can we trust them with the Constitution?” It was a stupid question asked by a stupid man. God trusted them with the oracles, the Commandments and the prophecies; the richest spiritual gifts in the keeping of the Deity. To be sure, they broke nearly all the Commandments and killed their prophets; but we have done the same thing; and the Constitution is as safe in the hands of the Jew, as the Bible is in the hands of the Gentile.
Granting that each one of these races will bequeath us something evil, let us take the standpoint of the secretary of the Immigration Restriction League and see to what we shall fall heir. We shall get from the Slav his crudity, from the Jew his sharpness, from the Italian his mobility, from the Armenian his Oriental shrewdness, which is akin to lying, from the Magyar a fiery temper; from each of them something which we call ill. When these disagreeable qualities are properly proportioned and balanced, they may so counteract one another, that in the sum total we may after all be the gainers. It seems absurd to go about this matter mathematically, whether one traces the possible gain or loss.
The truth is, that up to this date, in spite of the fact that already Slav, Jewish and Italian blood flows in the veins of some of us: in spite of the fact that these people fill the cities almost to overflowing, there is no perceptible physical or moral degeneration visible which can be traced to the foreigner.
The quarters of American cities where the foreigners live are not the worst quarters; and I would rather trust myself in the dark, to the mysteries of Hester Street than to certain portions of the West side exclusively populated by a certain type of degenerate Americans. Recently a professor of economics in one of our universities asked me to show him those terrible parts of New York where the foreigners live; where the children are said to be so unhappy, the men so oppressed by poverty; and where the women have not enough to wear. I took him across the Bowery, which has lost its terrors since it became foreign territory, across the streets of the Ghetto and along its avenues. We found the supposed unhappy children, well dressed and well fed, dancing to the notes of the hurdy-gurdy grinder, as happy as children naturally are, who do not have many “manners to mind,” whose playground is the street, and who have music from morning till nightfall. We walked through endless rows of tenements and saw men engaged in lawful pursuits; from the garret to the cellars the Ghetto was a beehive of industry. We saw no street loafers, drunkards or idlers. In “Little Hungary,” where we ate and enjoyed a daintily served dinner, we loitered until evening, when we met a vast army of men and women who came pouring in from Broadway’s stores and shops, walking with that pride and happiness which comes from the consciousness of having done a day’s work, and done it well. My friend was very much disappointed because he saw no horrors, no unhappy children or unhappy men.
Again we passed the Bowery, going on to the American section of New York, the Rialto. Here were horrors enough; whole blocks where there were no children; for both the very wicked and the very rich are not blessed by them. Young and old men, fashionably dressed and properly tipsy, went in to cheap shows, saloons and brothels, to have a “good time.” These young men, rich sons of rich fathers, and these old men, are idlers and perverters of their own passions. They and they alone are the great problem which we have need to fear; for it is a problem which cannot be solved. In the fashionable restaurants of Fifth Avenue and Upper Broadway, we saw the women “who toil not neither do they spin,” and who, with all the Heavenly Father’s care, were not properly clothed. They too, more than the women of the Ghetto, are the problem we need to study; for among them and by them are lost our democracy, our purity and our virtue.
I fear more from a certain type of Jew on Upper Broadway, than I do from the Jew of the Ghetto; even as I fear more from a certain type of over-ripe Americans than I do from this undeveloped peasantry. The question which the American faces is not whether the foreigner can be assimilated, but who will do the assimilating. Not even the question whether the foreigner is the inferior need concern us; for in the race which is now on and at its height, the American just described is left behind; and those of us who are watching the race are not at all amazed.
In nearly all the manufacturing towns of New England, the Swede and the German are forging to the front, while the Pole and the Italian are following closely; but the sons of the shrewd and inventive Yankees are keeping fast company, riding in fast automobiles, and drinking strong cocktails. They will soon be in the rear because of physical, mental and spiritual bankruptcy.
It does not follow that these New Americans do not present a racial problem; but the problem is largely one of assimilating power on our part. The real problem is: Whether the American is virile enough and not so much whether the foreign material is of the proper quality. I have no doubt as to either proposition; I believe that there is still remarkable assimilating power left which increases rather than decreases with the mixture of blood. I also believe that the average New American is like wax, hard wax sometimes,—perhaps more like lead or steel; but he will be moulded into our image and bear the marks of our characteristics whatever they may be.
As I write this I realize that I am saying “us” and “our” as if I were not a New American myself and one of those who make up the racial problem. Yet when I recall to myself the fact that I too belong to an alien race, it comes to me like a shock; when I realize that I was born beneath another flag and that this is but my adopted country, it gives me almost a sense of shame that I have in a great degree, if not altogether, forgotten these facts, and I am so completely and absorbingly an American, that I can write “us” and “our,” speak of my own people as foreigners, and of my own native country as a strange land. Something has so wrought upon me that in spite of the fact that I came to this country in my young manhood, I look upon America as my Fatherland. That same power is still active; still strong enough to repeat the miracle of the yesterday; for I am no better than these millions who are regarded as a menace. I came here with the same blood as theirs and the same heritage of good or ill, bequeathed by my race; yet I feel myself completely one with all which this country possesses, that is worth living for and dying for. With millions of these New Americans I say to-day that which we shall continue to say, whether it fares well or ill with our adopted country: “Thy people shall be my people, and thy God my God.”
“COMPETITION is the life of prejudice” is an old truth, in a somewhat new setting. Back of the prejudice against Jew, Italian and Slav, is this fact: they are monopolizing certain departments of labour and trades, and in nearly every activity they are beginning to be felt in competition. The Swede is regarded as treacherous by the man whose place he has taken in the machine shops East and West; the Slovak and Pole are called dirty and unreliable by the miners whom they have supplanted in Pennsylvania, and the Jew is accused of trickery by the American who has a clothing store on the next corner. Under whatever name the feeling against the foreigner hides itself, it usually is in substance the fear of competition; and every law restricting immigration has been with the idea of protecting American labour.
Nevertheless the economic problem presented by the New American is ill-defined, largely formulated by conflicting business interests, and is still only a question of the labour market. As a rule it may be said that the immigrant is willing to work only for the standard rate of wage; and whether that rate has been lowered by the recent influx of immigrants remains an undecided question. There are as reliable figures to prove that it has increased, as that it has decreased. The reports and resolutions of Labour Unions are coloured by self-interest as much as are the reports of Manufacturers’ Associations.
It is an undisputed fact that the New England loom workers have been largely displaced by the Irish and by French Canadians; and that Greeks, Armenians and Syrians are now displacing these in turn. The native New Englander however has not suffered by the process; for the foreman, the forewoman and the man who invents the loom and makes it, are these New Englanders, who do something more and better than merely keep the spindles full. It is true that the Irishman no longer has the supremacy on railroad sections, and that he has been supplanted; but not even by the wildest imagination can we say that this Irishman has suffered in the process; for is he not now policeman, fireman, alderman or some other kind of man where formerly he was only a hand on a section?
A similar change has taken place in all channels of activity; whether this is for good or ill, I am not ready to say. While no doubt exists in any mind that there are foreigners who are willing to work for less than the standard wage, it is because they do not yet know what that standard is; or because the immediate need drives them to take work at any price. Those of us who are acquainted with the immigrant as a labourer are aware that very soon he knows enough to demand his full wage, and that, smarting under a real or fancied wrong he will “strike” as quickly as if he had had twenty-five years of training in a Labour Union.
The history of the labour troubles of the last fifteen years proves conclusively that the foreigner will strike; and that he knows how to use the weapons of the strike, such as picketing and slugging and all that goes with that form of industrial warfare. It is at such a time that he is most denounced for his pernicious activity; while the very Labour Union with which he has made a common cause, will then repudiate him as a “scab” and a menace.
The author who, in his book,[4] which is supposed to be an authentic source of information on immigration, quoted the following, surely must have done so against his better judgment: “The agent[5] stated also that the rising generation of Jews, Italians and Hungarians are likely to live for the most part in the same conditions as their parents, and to remain unskilled labourers.” This is so evidently untrue that it must be known to be false by any man, even although he has examined this subject very superficially. The standard of living rises very perceptibly in the first generation among all classes of immigrants; and in proof of that I have the testimony of merchants in nearly all industrial centres in the United States. The boy who landed in Pennsylvania in homespun will discard it within a week and demand of his father short trousers and shirt waists. He will get them too; and he will get the best the father can afford. The wife will soon grow weary of keeping twenty boarders in one room; and I have seen the dawn of liberty rise upon her face as with flushing cheek she told her husband: “Me boss of this shanty.” When he tried to strike her as he did in the Old World she would remind him of the fact that this is the land of liberty, and I have seen her lift the battle-axe in defiance. Axe in hand she said: “I won’t keep boarders,” and the husband has been long enough in this country to know that when a woman in America says: “I won’t,” she won’t; and the boarders go.
With the going of the boarders comes the demand for a carpet; a cheap cotton carpet with huge design of many colours, the same kind that our forefathers put upon their floors when rag carpets went out of fashion; not very beautiful; but thoroughly and primitively American.
Plush furniture is added and stands stiffly against the wall; not very useful, but somewhat like the article which stands in more pretentious parlours. The “installment plan” agent finds among these people willing victims to plush albums, sewing machines and crayon portraits. Scarcely any of the New Americans I know are miserly or have essentially a different standard of living from our own, except as that standard was forced upon them by economic conditions. All of them in common with our frail humanity will spend money in proportion to their income and often, too often, out of proportion. The Slovak and the Pole who are most complained about on this score of a low standard of living, are fond of fine clothes and good food. In their native village they go about resplendent in glorious apparel, usually twice the value of ours; though we affect a higher standard of living. There are Slovak girls in Pennsylvania now, who have spent a year’s wage on a dress in the old country; and I have known women living in wretched huts who paid ten dollars for the half yard of lace on their caps. Mother vanity has her devotees everywhere and she exacts her tribute on this side of the Atlantic as well as on the other.
Those who know the immigrant and care for his well being, are not concerned by the fact that he does not spend money, but that he does not spend it wisely;—that the girls of the first and second generations follow the fashions too quickly, and buy the things which are useless; even as their mothers will fill the homes with things which are neither comfortable nor beautiful. The Jews who are such a great economic factor in our life may be accused of everything with more show of justice than of this one thing; namely, that, viewed from this standpoint, their standard of living is low. They are proverbially good dressers; and good eating is part of their traditions; it is closely allied to their religion. If it were not for the Jews in New York and in Chicago, the theatres would be half empty and the music halls not less so; one of the stock complaints against the Jews of our large cities is that they want the best seats in these places, that they want to go to the best hotels and live in the finest residence sections. To get along in the world, to get up and out, to be “as good as the best,” is a passion in Israel; a passion which has made the Jew more enemies than he himself knows.
I cannot regard the immigrant as a problem from this narrow economic view: while upon the broader question, of the general effect he has upon the condition of labour in America, I am at present in no position to be dogmatic. I recognize that it is natural for those engaged in the same pursuit to fear the competition which will lower their wage and consequently narrow their whole life. I believe that it is the business of the government to protect them against unjust competition, but first we must have tangible facts; and those we do not yet possess.
Let me quote again, almost verbatim, a labour leader from Ohio, who lifted up his voice in the Immigration Congress which convened in Madison Square Garden, New York, on December 6, 1905. He said: “We don’t want you fellers to let in any more of them yellow crawling worms from Europe; we have them in Ohio. They live on a piece of bread and one beer, and we can’t live like a decent American ought to live.” I happen to know Ohio and the city from which this gentleman comes. I do not know a single foreign colony there, in which men are satisfied by a piece of bread and one beer. Those I know fix no limit as to the beer; and the vats of the Cincinnati brewers would be dry, were it not for the proverbial thirst of the foreigners who live on the classic shores of the “Rhine,”—as a certain muddy stream is called which manages to flow into the Ohio by way of Cincinnati. The discernment(?) of this man and of his kind is not enough to raise a false alarm. Any of us would bow before facts, presented by an unprejudiced observer and would gladly help to cry “Halt” to the invasion of strangers who would lower the standard of living in America.
It takes neither figures nor close investigation to discover that in spite of the constant inflow of foreigners, the standard of living is rising continually; that the luxuries of yesterday are the comforts and necessities of to-day; and that in a larger measure than ever, it is true that the masses, if they have not reached this plane, are constantly at work trying to reach it. To blame the immigrant for the slums and the sweat-shops rests also upon pure assumption. It is indisputably true that the “slum” was always more or less here and that it is found wherever poverty and vice have met each other.
The immigrant moves into wretched houses and narrow streets and alleys because they are here. American citizens draw revenue from death traps and do it without a twinge of conscience; but even then these places are not slums. I venture to assert that in the real slums of American cities, the native Americans, using the word native in its true sense, outnumber these foreigners with whom we always associate the slums, with their grim twins—Poverty and Vice.
Only degenerate people sink into slums; and these foreigners have helped to regenerate them. In Chicago the first Ghetto developed in a quarter which could truly be called slums; full of dives in which the foulest vice flourished. Nearly all the women in those dens, and there must have been hundreds of them, were native Americans, or came from what we call the better immigrant stock, Germans and Scandinavians. On one side of this Ghetto was the most congested railroad district in the United States; on the other side as foul a slum as ever disgraced any city; but the Jew did not sink into the mire. He lifted that district out of it, so that to-day it is practically empty of that kind of vice.
There is no doubt that in the last few years, the army of unfortunate women and gamblers has received recruits from among recent immigrants, and there is also no doubt that the number will still increase; but the stock, the root, the peculiar kind of decayed house and people which we call slum, is a native product. Most of the Slavs who come here do not know anything about the business of prostitution or gambling; and until a few years ago this was true among the Jews also. I am willing to assert that the people who are making these peculiar crimes their business, are ninety per cent. native Americans. This does not necessarily cast any aspersion upon the American people; for I can truthfully say that as a whole their standard of morality is higher than that of any other people I know. Yet it is true that the class of immigrants who come, peasants and labourers, do not import the slum, the brothel and the gambling house.
If I were sent out to-day to find the people best fitted to replenish our physical stock, to help in winning the wealth of forest and mine, I should not go to Paris, to Vienna, to Berlin and London; or even to Glasgow or Edinburgh. I should go to the very villages in the Carpathians and Alps, on the broad Danubian plains, from which our recent immigration comes. Whether we are in need of replenishing this stock, whether the wealth of forest and mines should be harvested as quickly as it is now, is another question of those many with which I cannot deal here. Taking conditions as I see them, granting that we need muscle and brawn, I can say very dogmatically that we are getting exactly what we need. The sweat-shop it is true flourishes because of this recent immigration; but gradually its domain is losing ground and the fighters at the front against both slums and sweat-shops are the New Americans, who are helping to solve some old problems and to heal some old diseases.
The claim that every able bodied foreigner who comes here is worth so many dollars to this country has been ridiculed. Count Aponyi, of Hungary, who claims that his country loses money by the withdrawal of this able bodied army of men and women, puts the height of our gain at five thousand dollars for every man. However that may be, this is true: immigration has had a direct economic influence upon the countries from which the immigrants come, an influence which is both for good and bad. In certain regions wages have increased nearly fifty per cent. The relation between servant and master has changed, and a note of independence rings from the guttural throats of Slovaks and Poles; while “strike” and “meeting” are two English words which have entered permanently into their vocabularies. The removal of so many able bodied men has left whole villages with but women and children; and while the moral tone of such regions has not improved, one cannot as yet perceive any economic loss. This is due to the fact that money comes pouring in which offsets the loss sustained by the removal of so large a population.
Nevertheless it is a fact that the governments of Europe most concerned still regard themselves as losers, and are taking steps to restrict the emigration of desirable classes.
It has been claimed by a certain member of congress, that the withdrawal of this money from America is an economic loss and that the American people should stop it; because the money goes to support foreign governments. The argument is both narrow and false. First of all it is true, that the immigrant has earned this money in the most honest way, and that consequently he has a right to send it home if he pleases to do so.
Secondly, this money no more goes for the support of foreign governments than does the money that the politician paid for the imported cloth of which the evening suit was made which he wore when he delivered that criticism.
Thirdly, the money sent home each year by the men who have earned it, is only a small fraction of the large sums which are spent annually by Americans abroad; money which in a great number of cases has not been earned by those who spent it, or has not been earned so honestly as it has been by those “hewers of wood.”
Fourth, the money which is spent by Americans in Paris, Dresden, Nice and Carlsbad, does not so immediately return to the United States as does the money which is spent in Kottowin or Breczowa or in Oswicczim. That flows into the trade channels whose golden stream runs directly back to the United States; for more money in those villages means more money for Southern cotton, Chicago lard, and Connecticut clocks and sewing machines.
I doubt that even the minutest investigation will prove that the money sent annually to Italy or Hungary means a loss to the United States, or that as yet the immigrant is a serious economic menace.
ON a recent trip through Germany there fell into my hands a little book about America which bears the modest title, “Americana.” It was written by Professor Karl Lamprecht of the University of Leipzig, and is a note-book in which he records his impressions about us. Being a Professor of History and especially conversant with that part of it which deals with our country, his conclusions have large value.
That which impressed him most about our life was the prevalence of the religious atmosphere and the genuineness of our piety. The sentence which seemed to me to stand out above every other which he has written is this: “My conviction that this people is destined to great things bases itself above all else upon the fact, that it is capable of religious impressions.” I have felt this by virtue of a sort of vague faith, and have always regarded the religious problem which the immigrant presents, as the crucial one. We shall soon be of one blood—sooner yet of one speech; but how soon we shall have one faith, and common religious ideals, or how long we shall be able to preserve those religious ideals which are the guarantee of our greatness, as well as of our permanence as a republic, are very large and very serious questions.
It is not easy to deny that certain phases of our religious life in America are to a great degree unknown in Southern and Eastern Europe, and cannot be readily understood by the average immigrant:—the entire separation of Church and State, yet the complete union of religion and national life; the large place of the individual as a religious functionary, and yet the absolute equality of priest and people; the prevalence of forms and the permanence of the ethical and spiritual.
The immigrant comes to us, largely from countries in which the Church and the State, the cross and the sword, are one. In fact to the large majority of those who come, nationality or race, and the Church, are one and the same. The Russian and the Southern Slav who are not pravo Slavs, adherents of the Greek Church, are regarded very much in the light of traitors to their nations. The Pole is a Catholic by national instinct; Poland and Roman Catholicism are to him one and the same; while the Jew is a Jew by race and faith, regarding as a profligate, him who betrays his people by becoming a Christian.
Roughly speaking, nearly eighty per cent. of our present immigration is made up of Roman Catholics, Greek Catholics, Greek Orthodox and Jews. More or less, usually more rather than less, they bring with them and foster these ideas. This is undoubtedly true of nearly all the Slavs whom the Church divides racially and who are enemies; remaining so a long time on this side of the Atlantic. The Church, cognizant of this fact, fosters it in no small degree, because it can hold its children more loyally to itself by giving the national idea a large place. Polish, Bohemian and Slovak church societies of a semi-military character exist in large numbers, and many of their members carry arms. Although in itself this may be a harmless way of keeping men loyal to the Church, it does seem to clash with one of our religious ideals, which is fundamental in maintaining religious liberty. I am judging only as an outsider and am telling only what seems to me to be the case; but I am speaking also for a large number of Catholic priests who see in this no small menace and who have tacitly admitted it.
The sooner the Catholic Church can get rid of Polish and Italian priests who have been trained in Europe, to whom religion is a sort of politics,—and a certain kind of politics is religion,—the better for the Church and of course the better for the State.
The immigrants free themselves from the autocracy of the Church and of the priest more quickly than from the national idea, and they easily breathe in the liberating atmosphere and sometimes manifest it in a very disagreeable way. The close supervision which the priest exercises over his parishioners, the respect they pay to him, the awe in which he is held, are helpful rather than detrimental phases of their religious life, where the priest is a true priest. There are, however, too many who are not, and I am sure that the authorities of the Church concerned are perhaps more anxious about this than are we, who are simply looking over the fence at our neighbours’ affairs.
I am more concerned by the fact that in nearly all the immigrants with whom I have dealt, forms and a certain blind faith, obscure the ethical demands of Christianity. This is certainly true of the adherents of the Greek Orthodox Church and not entirely untrue of those belonging to other Churches. I am conscious of the fact that just here prejudice can blind one completely; and I want to keep myself free from that charge.
My religious outlook cannot be called narrow, when one takes into consideration that Roman Catholic priests were both my teachers and my companions, that I have lived in a Russian monastery, that I know the Slav, the Italian and the Jew better perhaps than I know the American, and that to know them as sympathetically as I do, one must know them without prejudice. Probably on the other hand I shall not escape the charge of timidity when I say that in the countries in Europe from which our present immigration flows the Church has fostered the form of religion and has too often neglected its ethical demands; or perhaps that it has laid greater emphasis upon the poetry of religion than upon its stern prose.
Into the Easter celebration the Greek Orthodox churches have woven all the charm which the religious mind can invent. I have seen almost the third heaven opened on Easter eve in Russia and also in Poland. Yet hardly had the last triumphant cry, “Christ is risen” died upon the gray morning, when the same mob which shouted, “Christ is risen,” also cried, “Kill the Jews.” Kisheneff, Bialistok, Sedlice and the scenes of small and large pogroms in Poland, Austria and Hungary, which have remained unrecorded, are sufficient proof of the fact that many of the Slavic people have no idea of the teachings of Jesus; and that religion to them is a matter of form necessary to observe, a sort of charm against evil spirits and bad luck.
In this respect, however, the churches concerned are not sinners above others; and the Protestant churches in America have also been more successful with the millinery of religion than with its essence. It would be wrong to say that the people who now come to us will dull our religious faculties, and make them less impressionable. Nothing could be further from the truth; for essentially they are a religious people and even now there are taking place among them great religious developments. I believe that in the crude state in which the present immigrant comes, he is ready for the best the Church can give to him. No one church is equal to the task, and antagonistic as they may be towards one another, I believe the nation needs both the Protestant and Catholic types; that the field now is so large and the problem so difficult, that they both need to put forth their best efforts. Each needs to prove Lessing’s story of the “Three Rings”; each needs to prove that it has the true ring, the true message of redemption, and it can prove that best by living its best, and by noblest endeavour for these children of men who have brought to our doors the problem of Christianizing the whole world.
The breadth of vision and the depth of conviction which animate a certain section of America in this respect, are best illustrated by these ringing words from a recent address by President Tucker of Dartmouth College: “If God were not pouring into New England out of the riches of other countries, New England would be empty. While the latest foreigner may not compare favourably with the native stock, what of the second and third generations of foreigners? They are forging to the front, partly because of their virility and ambition, and partly through the sacrifice of the homes to educate their children. The rising scale of foreign population is on a better level than the falling scale of the native population. If the old New England stock is not willing to sacrifice as it used to, and if the New England boy is not as ambitious as his grandfather, I thank God that he is sending us those who are willing to sacrifice and anxious to rise; and that he is giving this challenge to the old stock: Rise up and show yourselves! If we do not see and feel it, it is to our shame. We are not the elect of God unless we prove our election, and if He can do better for the world through some other stock and religion than through the native stock and Protestant religion, let Him work in His own way.”
I need not say here how large a place the public school and the settlement both have (in spite of the fact that they are often called godless institutions) in making religious impressions upon the immigrant. The glimpse of a higher world, the world of the spirit, has been given to many eyes almost blind to the divine light, by modest men and women who have worn neither cassock nor crosses, and who were ordained to their holy task only as they felt the touch of needy children resting upon their hearts.
I recall a little, sharp-eyed Jewish lad whom lured from his news stand by recklessly buying his whole stock of evening papers. He had lived in Boston five years and was Bostonese, to the dropping of his Rs, and the picking them up again, to put where they did not belong. He was a product of the public school, not yet finished, but in the making; and over him hovered the benediction of some noble teacher, whose glory he reflected. “Teacher? O yes! teacher was even more than parents, almost like God. Teacher knew more than the stupid rabbi, who tried to drill into him the Hebrew alphabet.”
The boy had neither church nor synagogue, nor priest nor preacher nor rabbi; he had but two things to cling to, the school and the settlement. Piteous was his scorn of the faith of his fathers, the accusation and condemnation of everything Jewish, the contempt with which he called his people “Sheney”; the horror of fast and feast days, and his delight in the anticipation of a Jewish Sabbath meal. He will become what Max Nordau calls a “stomach Jew,” in opposition to the “soul Jews,” who alas! are growing fewer and fewer, on both sides of the sea.
This boy, grown up, or growing up in Boston, knew nothing of us, of our type of Christianity, or of Christianity at all; except the fact that the world is divided between Christians and Jews. The settlement has done something for him; it has given his unskilled fingers the taste for handicraft, and he told me with honest pride of the things he had made with “his own hands.” It has also given him a knowledge of human kindness, although he does not yet realize that the men and women in the settlements are working because of the love they have for God’s children.
I have found Jews everywhere who were Christian in spirit; and the distance between synagogue and church is as great as it is, only because of prejudices, which the church has not yet allayed and which unconsciously it is increasing.
The Jew is suspicious of missions and missionaries and has good reason to be, but he responds quickly to the notes of true religion whenever they strike his heart; even as he responds quickly to the best things in our national life.
I recall walking through Boston in the streets stretching South and far North where Russia and Polish Jews live. They are keepers of shops of all varieties, busy scavengers of second-hand articles; busier than we know, with thread and needle in clothing and sweat shops. They are dealers in junk, the refuse and wreckage of our industrial establishments; creators of new avenues of trade and of some new industries. Some of these Jews know that they live in Boston and act like it. I had alighted at the North Station and was walking with a lady whose luggage I had offered to carry to the car. She had a baby on one arm and a large satchel in the other hand, so in order not to knock against her with the heavy valise which I carried, I walked on the inside. Suddenly from his shop door, a Russian Jew, in English strongly tainted by Yiddish, called out: “You greenhorn, don’t you know that in Boston men don’t walk on the insides of the ladies?” Promptly, as though impelled by a command, I shifted my load, and “walked on the outside of the lady.”
That Jew had been responsive to Boston’s spirit of decorum and would be equally responsive to the best in its religious life if it were presented to him. He likes least to be singled out as a Jew and to be dealt with as such, either by churches or missions. He is most easily approached from the standpoint of the average man, and not from the peculiar racial and religious standpoint of the Jew.
ON THE DAY OF ATONEMENT. The distance between synagogue and church is really not so great as some suppose. Many a Jew is Christian in spirit if not in creed.
ON THE DAY OF ATONEMENT.
The distance between synagogue and church is really not so great as some
suppose. Many a Jew is Christian in spirit if not in creed.
Side by side with the religious problem is growing to menacing proportions the problem of politics. A nation like our own, ideally founded upon universal suffrage, is putting its destinies in the hands of men untrained in citizenship; the very name citizen being so new to them that they cannot easily grasp its meaning. The tutelage of Tammany Hall and of its kind all over the United States has been a bad preparation for so momentous a task. It does not diminish the greatness of the problem in the least when I say that the foreigner is usually the innocent tool, in a corrupting process which has been going on for many years, and to the existence of which the nation is just awaking.
I have been offered citizenship papers in the city of New York for ten dollars; and have seen them peddled by Americans who had back of them the protection of political bosses of no less genuine American ancestry. I have seen whole groups of Polanders marched to the ballot-box, when they were so drunk that they had to be kept erect by a stalwart American patriot who swore that they had the right to vote, when they had scarcely been a year in this country. I have seen men who are respected in their communities, buy votes wherever they could get them, corrupting a mass of men who were as ignorant of the process of voting and as unfitted for it, as little babes; and these very men I have heard loudly proclaiming the corrupting influence of the foreign element.
With all that, the foreigner is rising in the scale of citizenship and is not so bad as he has the right to be, considering the example set him. Delaware is not controlled by foreigners, yet the peaches in its political basket are rotten both at the top and at the bottom. Connecticut, the “Constitution State” as it loves to call itself, is still dominantly American, and yet there are so many “wooden nutmegs” in the spice box of its magnificent State House that its best citizens are hanging their heads from shame. New Hampshire and Vermont are not model States, in spite of the fact that the foreign vote is almost “nil”; while the city of Philadelphia cannot claim that it is better governed than the city of New York, where the foreign population predominates and dominates.
The immigrant, it is true, will sell his vote; but the American buys it, and sells it too, and he is the greater traitor; because he is betraying his native country.
Again, this does not assume that the immigrant is not a political problem; he is, but only because we are, and in this he rises and falls with us, and sometimes rises above us. All that which we call patriotism he quickly imbibes. He loves the Fourth of July, and he knows its meaning and its value often better than the native born. I have no fear on that score; and should America, God forbid, engage in war, you would find at the very front the Jew, the Slav, and the Italian with the Yankee, fighting the same battle; yes, and fighting his own people should they unjustly attack us.
Who doubts that the German Americans would fight in our war against Germany, if it were a just war—if war be ever just; and who would doubt for a moment that the Italians, Russians and French would fight on our side if their governments should land soldiers on this continent? No one doubts it.
They are caught by the contagious enthusiasm of our patriotism, and will outdo us; for they love America as no native can love it. Neither do I fear that they will fail us in fighting our greater battles against injustice and against corruption in high places. What I fear is that they will fight, that they will become one with the tumultuous mob, which may at any time arise and blindly demand its long deferred dividends for its share of labour, toil and suffering. I fear that we are gathering inflammable material from the dissatisfied of all the nations, who here may endeavour to reek vengeance upon all governments; a mass easily inflamed by demagogues and made a scourge in the land, when the land needs scourging.
No nation has ever faced such a problem as we are facing; not only because of its gigantic proportions, nor because of its peculiar nature, but because of the fact that the nation’s weal or woe is being decided right before our very eyes; because its shroud or its wedding garment is now being woven, and we who live to-day may stretch our hands against the threads of the loom and say which it shall be.
AGAIN the ship’s band plays the songs of the Fatherland, while marching up the streets of Hoboken towards the dock, comes a long procession of men escorting one of the chief citizens of the town. He is the owner of the largest saloon and is about to visit his native land across the sea. The decks of the steamer are crowded by passengers and their friends, and through the discordant noise of rattling chains one hears the mingled notes of joy and sorrow, until finally at the stern command of the captain the long homeward journey has begun.
The steerage of the Kaiser Wilhelm II is crowded to the limit; and Jews, Slavs, Italians and Germans are beginning to settle down in their congested quarters, in a somewhat closer fellowship than on the westward journey; for now they have a common experience and a few sentences of common language to bind them to one another.
The women all of them, have discarded the peasant’s dress and are bedecked in the spoils of bargain counters; while the men invariably wear “store clothes,” always carry huge watches and not rarely a revolver. Where you still see peasant’s clothing you will find a heavy spirit within it; for the wearer is one of the unfortunates who was turned back from “the gate which leads into the city.”
The steerage passengers may be roughly divided into two classes: those who go home because they have succeeded, and those who go home because they have failed. Those who have succeeded have not yet reached the point of achievement which lifts them from the steerage to the cabin, but still belong to that large class which goes back to the Fatherland for a season and then returns, to try again the road to fortune. More than one-fourth of all our immigrants belong to this class and have to be reckoned with when the sum total is counted. While I cannot give the exact figures I should say that nearly two hundred thousand men and women go back and forth each year.
This class has lost much of the Old World spirit and is neither so docile nor so polite as it was when first it occupied these quarters. The ship’s crew has become more civil towards it, which is due to the fact that the homeward bound steerage passenger has grown to be something more of a man, has more self-assertion and more dollars; all of which has power to subdue the over-officious crew. The men have learned more or less English, which is freely interspersed by oaths, while the women can say: “Yes, no, and good-bye” call their “Dum, de house” and are fairly versed in the language of the grocery and dry goods store. They can say “how much” and even “you bet”; but beyond that, the English language has remained “terra incognita” to them.
The women are the birds of passage who most go back; for they are loyal to their kinsmen, to their home and their traditions, not having been long enough in America to prize the great privileges of womanhood here.
The children are most loath to return; especially those who have gone to school here and who in their migrations to and fro, have learned the difference.
Anushka, a bright twelve year old girl goes from a Pennsylvania town, to the Frenczin district in Hungary. She is dressed “American fashion,” has gone to the public school and speaks English fairly well.
“Anushka moya, tell me, do you like to go back to Hungary?” and the little girl tells me: “No, siree. America is the best country. There we have white bread and butter and candy, and I can chew gum to beat the band;” and tears fill her eyes at the memory of the American luxuries which she has tasted. If she stays in her mountain village she will degenerate into the common life about her, and marry a peasant lad with whom she will hover between enough and starvation, all the days of her life. Yet she will never forget America, the white bread and butter, the candy and the chewing-gum.
In a little village in Hungary I know a woman who in her youth had tasted all these things and the freedom of life in Chicago. Now, although she has been married fifteen years and has lived away from America longer than that, she speaks with glowing eyes of the time when she lived on South Halstad Street, ate thin bread with thick jam on it, and the land was flowing with sausages, lager beer and chewing-gum.
Most blessed are the girls who have been in service in American families. They have learned English well, and also the ways of the American household. They have tasted of the spirit of Democracy which permeates our serving class, and when such an one returns to her native village she unsettles the relations of servant and mistress. Therefore, her coming is dreaded by the “Hausfrau” who has had one servant-girl through many years, paying her fifteen dollars a year and treating her like a beast. Shall I quote one of those mistresses? “What kind of country is that anyway, that America? These servant girls come back with gold teeth in their mouths, and with long dresses which sweep the streets, and with unbearable manners. They do not kiss our hands when they meet us, and when they speak of their mistress in America they speak of her as if they were her equals. When one of those girls comes home with her finery and her money, we are liable to lose every servant; and wages are going up fabulously.”
I met one of these servant-girls “with gold teeth in her mouth” after she had lived three years in America, and I found that she had acquired something besides gold teeth. She had learned to speak both German and English, she had manners which were refined, she had been uplifted by an American mistress out of her peasant life to a plane which women reach nowhere but in America, and she was the equal if not the superior, of any of the young women in her village, who had had the privilege of a common school education which had been denied to her, because of her lowly origin. It is true, she did sweep the streets with her long skirts; but she did it gracefully. She walked as the women on Fifth Avenue walk, and she shook hands with me after the most approved fashion.
The older women on the ship returned without any of these graces. They had been pining for the Fatherland, and in spite of the fact that one of them was going back to a half-starved country, she said: “In Chicago, you no can get any tink to eat.”
In a general way it may be said that it made a vast difference where and how the men had lived in America, as to whether they carried anything but American dollars back with them. Both the men and the women who had been in service in American homes showed the largest inheritance of our spirit; while those who lived in the congested foreign quarters had simply changed climates for a while, lost some robustness and a few native virtues, and gained a modest bank account.
Yet even among those I could notice changes and gains which cannot be tabulated and which at the first glance might be put down as losses; an indefinite something which has gone into their fibre for better or for worse. This was most crudely illustrated by a Ruthenian who had lived twenty-five years in America; eleven years in a coal mining district and the rest of the time in a New England manufacturing town. He told me about his aspirations for his son, who is “very smart and will not work with his hands.” He talked in Russian: “Yes, my son will be educated. I have money enough for that. I am stupid and must bear all sorts of things, but when a man is educated, he can raisovat helle as much as he wants.” The form in which he put the American phrase saves the necessity of writing it in dashes.
I have not yet seen a village in Hungary, Russia or Italy, to which any number of men has returned even after a short sojourn in America, without that community’s gaining in some ways at least. Better houses certainly were built, with more or less sanitary improvements according to the conditions under which the men or women have lived in America. It makes a vast difference whether the men have lived in mining camps or in the cities. Undoubtedly the peasant who has lived in a small American city where he could easily feel and touch its life brings home the greatest spirit of progress.
Agricultural conditions have improved rapidly in Hungary and Poland; business in not a few instances has been put upon an American basis, which means not only more efficiency, but strange as it may seem, more honesty; and the scale of living has risen wherever a large number of people has gone to and fro across the sea.
The steerage holds numbers who go back because they have not succeeded, and many who are broken in health, who have been burned by the fires, scalded by the steam and parched by our heat. Men and women with spirits broken, who are not going back, but crawling back into the shelter of the Old World home.
“O! panye,” cried one of those to whom I tried to minister: “it is an awful country! You don’t know whether they walk on their heads or on their feet; they do not stop to eat nor sleep, and they drive one as the water drives the village mill. They build a house one minute and tear it down the next; the cities grow like mushrooms and disappear like grass before a swarm of locusts. The air is black in the city where I lived; black as the inside of the chimney in my cabin, and the water they drink looks like cabbage soup. The cars go like a whirlwind over the Puszta (prairie) and I should rather stand among a thousand stampeding horses on the plains, than on one of those dreadful street corners. How terribly those whistles blow in the morning and how dark and dismal are those shops, where they eat up iron and men out of bowls as big as the barn of our ‘Pan’ (master). The heat outside burns and the heat inside blisters, and when it is cold it freezes the blood. No, no,” and he groaned in terror at the remembrance of it; “no more America for me. That’s all I have,” pointing to his scant clothing. “I am going back a beggar.”
Women too there are whose bodies and spirits are nearly broken; and they go back to wait for their release. Among these, there was one Bohemian woman from New York, whose hollow cough and glowing cheeks betrayed the arch destroyer at work. She was one of six thousand cigar makers employed by one firm, and she had laboured five years in that shop and rolled many thousands of cigars into shape. As she had to bite the end of every cigar, she swallowed much tobacco juice, and breathed in much tobacco dust. She had attained great proficiency and could earn twenty dollars a week; but she had ruined her health, had spent all her savings for medicine and now was going home to die. She was in that stage where hope had not left her, and she was bent on making the last great fight for life in the shelter of her “Matushka’s” love.
Two old genteel looking people always stood out from the coarse mass because they kept clean in spite of the odds against them in the steerage, and because they were always together. Up and down the slippery stairs they went, like two lovers. Even seasickness did not separate them and when the sun shone they were on deck, solemnly smiling back to heaven. They had left their all in America; their children were sleeping in the strange soil, and now they were going back to the little town in Austria from which they had gone thirty-seven years before. They felt too rich in one another to rail against their fate, and their complaint was as gentle as their pain was deep. They had come to America full and now they were going home empty; three sons and two daughters they had brought, and childless they were going back; but “The Lord had given and the Lord had taken away,” and they blessed the name of the Lord.
Those who had prospered in America, and they were the majority, carried home with them sums of money which in the aggregate, amounted, among 600, to four thousand dollars, which did not however represent all they had saved; for each week they had sent small sums to their homes, and the money sent from America to Austria and Italy has been a great economic factor in the life of those countries. The total sum must reach into many millions. Nor does this sum represent an entire loss to our country; for the more money there is in a Slav or Italian village the more and better cotton goods are bought. The daily diet contains more American lard, the household is likely to be enriched by an American sewing-machine, and the notes of the phonograph are “heard in the land,”—which too comes from America.
Perhaps the greatest gainers by this constant coming and going are the steamship companies, which for a comparatively large sum of money provide quarters that in a very short time become unfit for human beings. The thrifty passengers, and there are not a few of them, who believe that the steerage going to Europe is not so crowded as coming to America, and that they can risk travelling that way, are very much mistaken. Even moderately rough weather makes the unsheltered deck impossible; the nether decks of the ship become full of sickening odours and seasickness claims nearly all the passengers as victims. There is no escape; even on so large a ship as the Kaiser Wilhelm II all must remain in their bunks. On my last trip I counted five bitter days when not one steerage passenger could go on deck, while the cabin passengers were travelling over comparatively quiet waters.
When the sea has become as smooth as a mill-pond the steerage passengers may venture out; 800 people, crowded in a small space, soon become acquainted and need not wait for an introduction. Less, much less than on the outward journey have the races kept themselves apart; it is true you may still discover groups of Slavs, Italians or Jews; but they have approached the gates of the Kingdom of God and you may find your brotherhoods made up of all the nations of the earth. I had around me a group of forty men who belonged to seventeen nationalities, to four faiths and to many stations in life; yet we felt ourselves bound to one another by a meagre knowledge of the English language and by our common experience in America. Most of these men felt themselves intensely American; and that was what held us together and in a measure separated us from the mass. For the majority of these birds of passage are not yet American, as the following instance will illustrate. In taking a rough census of the politics of the steerage, I asked one man: “How do you like President Roosevelt?” He replied: “I no know him. I guess he good man, I get my pay at shop; I work, I get pay, I guess that all right.” A few expressed both admiration for the President and loyalty to him, and hoped he would run for another term. They had opinions in politics and some even declared themselves neither Republicans nor Democrats, but “Inepenny.” My group of forty men, growing at the end of the journey to nearly fifty, were a loyal set, and an honest one.
Each of the men had earned the little money he had, by hard labour; not one of them by barter, and each had caught a glimpse of the higher life in America.
The Slavs were nearly all Democrats, the Italians were Republicans, and so were the Jews. There were six Social Democrats in the group, nearly evenly divided among the three races; and they were the best educated if not the most companionable of the number. The whole group was eager to know, and the questions asked were as pertinent as numerous. All of them expected to return to America before another year, and each of them will grow into the full stature of the American man.
The touch with the mass in the steerage can be but light; yet I have looked into the smiling faces of little children, I have played with the steerage boys and girls, I have talked with every one of the five hundred adult passengers in the steerage, and I can still say that usually all of them return with some blessing, with some wealth gained, and better for having been in America.
The boys and girls are more boisterous and self-assertive, while the men and women are less cringingly polite than they were. They have lost some things but have gained more; and I am convinced that the country in which they have toiled these years has been enriched by the price of their labour.
How far these birds of passage present an economic problem is at present difficult to determine. Those who remain form the greater problem, which is more than an economic one.