An ocean away

Why I am here? No, I’m not being existential but rather musing on how it is that I happen to live where I do when my ancestral roots were firmly planted an ocean away. What propelled my forebears to sell their possessions, pack up their children and abandon their homeland to start anew? What was their journey like, where did they settle and what awaited them when they arrived at their destination?

My great-grandparents, both paternal and maternal, were among the early-20th-century wave of emigrants from Great Britain, arriving in Canada between 1904 and 1922. All settled in Toronto. They were working-class folks who no doubt viewed North America as a land of opportunity, with better employment prospects and a higher standard of living.

“Are you of Irish descent? Italian? Polish? Scottish? Chinese? Chances are, your ancestors did not get on a boat because life in the old country was placid and prosperous and grandpa owned a bank.” — Bret Stephens, The New York Times, 12 Jan 2018

At that time, both Canada and the US were also offering government incentives to promote immigration. The Canadian government, for example, offered steamship booking agents a commission called the “British Bonus” beginning in 1890 in order to encourage them to recruit new settlers, particularly farmers, agricultural workers and domestic servants. 

The government also paid a commission to Canadian government employment agents (CGEA) for placing new immigrants with employers seeking domestic workers or labourers.

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The Salvation Army provided assistance to tens of thousands of immigrants to Canada, including processing in Britain, supervising the journey by ship, and helping them get settled at their destination.

Three of my grandparents were young teenagers when they emigrated, so the decision to uproot was their parents’. Each of their fathers set out first, in order to find work and accommodation at their destination before sending for their wives and children many months later.

My paternal grandmother, Ellen “Nellie” Bothwell (née Mitchell), on the other hand, was the first of her family to emigrate, arriving in Canada in 1919 as a young war widow—her husband had been killed in action the previous year. Nellie was accompanied on the journey by her good friend, Rachel Mitchell (no relation), once engaged to marry Nellie’s brother Alexander who, sadly, had drowned in Aberdeen Harbour a few years earlier. So perhaps these two young women saw life in Canada as a fresh start. Nellie’s father and three of her siblings followed in 1920, but it was another two years before her mother and the five youngest children were able to join them.

My husband’s parents were among the influx of post-World War II immigrants from Europe, arriving in Canada from Sweden in 1951. My Estonian-born father-in-law had fled to Sweden concurrent with the World War II Soviet occupation of his homeland. My mother-in-law, born in Germany to a German mother and Polish Jewish father, was evacuated to Sweden as a child, shortly before the outbreak of the war, to escape Nazi persecution. Both officially “stateless,” my in-laws applied for immigration to both Canada and New Zealand, deciding that they would accept whichever application was approved first; Canada won out.

The journey

The journey across the Atlantic would have started with a trek to a seaport such as Glasgow, Liverpool or London to board a steamship holding as many as 2,000–3,000 people.

In the early 20th century, the voyage was rough, taking one to two weeks. Passengers were divided into classes of accommodation. Those who could afford to travel first or second class had the comfort of a stateroom or cabin. But the majority of people were in third class or “steerage”—which was simply a large open space at the bottom of the ship. With the exception of my grandmother Nellie who was able to purchase a cabin-class ticket, all of my forebears travelled steerage.

Conditions in steerage were crowded, dirty and uncomfortable, privacy was limited, and food was poor. Beds were typically long rows of shared bunks. 

Things had improved somewhat by mid-century, when my in-laws crossed the ocean, but that did not make the journey any more pleasant for my mother-in-law, who recalls being so seasick that she spent virtually the entire six-day trip outside on deck.

Arrival

Upon arriving at an official port of entry to Canada or the US (in Canada, these included Halifax, Montreal, Quebec City, Saint John and Vancouver; in the US, common entry points were New York, Portland, Baltimore, Boston and Philadelphia), passengers were subject to immigration inspection, including a physical examination focused on identifying highly infectious diseases. Not surprisingly, due to poor sanitation, diet and seasickness, many immigrants contracted illnesses or disease during the trip.

After being cleared for entry, newcomers were shepherded onto trains heading inland. Passenger lists recorded their final destination and intended occupation and often included the name and address of a relative or other person who would be receiving them.

Settling in

The transition to a new home in a new country would for many have been a culture shock, often with a lower-status job, hostile weather, and, in the case of my in-laws, a new language.

Most immigrants likely experienced episodes of homesickness. Many had left extended family behind, whom they would see rarely if ever again. A century ago there was no email or texting or Skype, and overseas phone calls (if one even had a phone) would have been prohibitively expensive. Families could only write letters to keep in touch.

When they moved to Canada, my great-grandparents John and Joanna Baty said goodbye to their eldest daughter Grace who remained in England with her new husband. They saw Grace—and met their grandchildren—only once after that, some 15 years later, when they visited England in 1928. My grandmother, Jessie, went over in 1955, which was the first time she had seen her older sister in over 40 years. Jessie visited again in 1964, this time taking younger sister Phyllis with her, finally reuniting all three sisters after 51 years—a local paper even wrote an article about their reunion.

Homesickness aside, my family members generally prospered in their adopted land. It’s humbling to consider that if not for their bravery and fortitude in starting over thousands of miles from home, I would not exist.

Sources

• Canadian Immigration – Early 1900s
• Canadian Immigration Policy, 1905–1945 (National Institute)
• Terminology and Abbreviations [in immigration records], Library and Archives Canada
• The Crest, News and Views of the Salvation Army Historical Society of Canada and Bermuda, Volume 11, Number 1, Fall 2010
• Canadian Museum of History, Advertising in Britain, 1900–1916
• Immigration: Stories of Yesterday and Today
• Treatment of Women in Steerage – 1909
• A Typical Old-style Steerage: An Investigator’s Report (1908)
• The Old Steerage – 1911
• The New Steerage – 1911
• A Typical New Type Steerage: An Investigator’s Report (1911)
• Conditions in Steerage – Then and Now (1913)

Tagged emigration, homesick, immigrant, immigration, journey, steerage