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.
XXIII
BIRDS OF PASSAGE
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.