Then there is the pleasure of discovering “a sail in sight,” and of watching it grow larger by degrees as the vessels approach each other. The “look out” is kept by some passengers almost as persistently as by the sailors detailed for the purpose. Perhaps, again, the captain or officers have let out the fact that they should pass one of their own or some rival company’s [pg 10]vessel that day. How many eyes are strained after that first mere thread of smoke on the horizon! What ringing cheers as the two great steamships near each other! What an amount of anxious enthusiasm when it is known that a boat is coming off from the other vessel, and what feverish excitement to learn all the news! They may have been seven or eight days without any, and in that time what may not have occurred in the history of nations!
Then, again, the sea itself, in its varying beauty or grandeur, has for most travellers a great interest. Is there not a chance of seeing an iceberg, a whale, or even the great sea serpent?
In March-April, 1869, the writer crossed the Atlantic in splendid weather. The ocean was, for the ten days occupied on the passage, almost literally as calm as a lake; even the lady passengers emerged from their cabins two or three days before they would otherwise have ventured forth. Among them was one lady seventy-five years of age, who was running away—so she informed the passengers—from her husband, and going to join her children in the States. This female had “stood it” for fifty years, but now, she said, she was going to end her days in peace. Here was a champion of “woman’s rights!” Alas! on arrival in New York there was no one to receive her, and she was taken back on board the steamer. What became of her afterwards we know not.
THE STEERAGE OF AN ATLANTIC STEAMSHIP FORTY YEARS AGO.
The woes of steerage passengers have been graphically described by Charles Dickens. He tells us that “unquestionably any man who retained his cheerfulness among the steerage accommodations of that noble and fast-sailing packet, the Screw, was solely indebted to his own resources, and shipped his good humour like his provisions, without any contribution or assistance from the owners. A dark, low, stifling cabin, surrounded by berths filled to overflowing with men, women, and children, in various stages of sickness and misery, is not the liveliest place of assembly at any time; but when it is so crowded, as the steerage cabin of the Screw was every passage out, that mattrasses and beds are heaped on the floor, to the extinction of everything like comfort, cleanliness, and decency, it is liable to operate not only as a pretty strong barrier against amiability of temper, but as a positive encourager of selfish and rough humours.” Dickens follows with a dismally correct picture of the passengers, with their shabby clothes, paltry stores of poor food and other supplies, and their wealth of family. He adds that every kind of suffering bred of poverty, illness, banishment, and tedious voyaging in bad weather was crammed into that confined space, and the picture, almost revolting in its naked truthfulness, was not overdrawn in those days. It could not be written, however, of any steerage whatever in our times, for partly from governmental care, partly from the general improvement in means of travel, partly from competition and the praiseworthy desire of the owners to earn a high character for their vessels’ accommodations, the steerage of to-day is comparatively decent; although it is not yet that which it should be, nor has the progress of improvement kept anything like pace with railway accommodation of the cheaper kind. Yet one would think it to the interest of owners[5] to make the steerage an endurable place of temporary abode.
In 1879 nearly 118,000 steerage passengers left the port of Liverpool for the United States. It should be noted that this was from one port, undeniably the principal one for emigration, but still by no means the only British one used for that purpose. Observe further that it was for America alone that these emigrants were bound. According to the United States census of 1870, there were at that time 5,600,000 human beings in the country who were foreign born, and this number has since gone on increasing to a very large extent. Nine-tenths of them at the least crossed the Great Ferry in ships bearing the Union Jack, and of these, three-fourths or more crossed as steerage passengers. Hence the importance of the question.
Latterly a considerable amount of attention has been given to the sub-division of the steerage space, so that, when practicable, friends and families may remain together. Married people and single women have now separate quarters. The sleeping accommodations are the weak point. They are simply rough wooden berths, and the passenger has to furnish his own bedding, as well as plate, mug, knife, fork, spoon, and water-can. The provisions are now-a-days generally ample, and on some lines are provided ad libitum. The bill of fare is pretty usually as follows. Breakfast: coffee, fresh bread or biscuit, and butter, or oatmeal porridge and molasses; Dinner: soup, beef or pork, and potatoes—fish may be substituted for the meat; on Sunday pudding is often added; Tea: tea, biscuit and butter. Three quarts of fresh water are allowed daily. A passenger who has a few shillings to spend can often obtain a few extras from the steward, and many, of course, take a small stock of the minor luxuries of life on board with him.
To those of small means who are contemplating emigration, the “Intermediate” (second-class) on board some of the Atlantic steamers to the States and Canada can be commended. For a couple of guineas over the steerage rates, excellent state-rooms, generally with four to six berths in each, furnished with bedding and lavatory arrangements, are provided. The intermediate passenger has a separate general saloon, and the table is well provided with good plain living. As the steerage passenger has to provide so many things for himself, it is almost as cheap to travel second-class.
