Scenes in Castle Garden Just After an Emigrant Landing
A quiet, observant sketch of newly landed Scandinavian, German and Russian immigrants waiting inside Castle Garden — their dress, their silence, the deference of the women — offers a rare glimpse of ordinary arrival rather than the usual statistics.
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The Evening World · December 14, 1888 · Page 1
1 min readA large and varied assortment of emigrants had just landed at Castle Garden.
The company was composed of Swedes, Norwegians, Danes and Germans, with a slight sprinkling of Russians, the latter sitting apart by themselves, grim and taciturn.
The Scandinavians and Germans were blond, round-faced, rosy-cheeked and of compact build, particularly about the waist. The women shared this last characteristic equally with the men.
Both men and women were apparently togged out in their best, at least as far as color and grotesqueness of attire went. Men, with thick blue woollen blouses, green caps and variegated trousers tucked into long boots, strutted about, smoking queerly shaped wooden pipes, and the kaleidoscopic colors and motions within the garden caused not the slightest change of expression on their stolid faces. They gazed unmoved upon the busy officials racing about and tossing boxes and bundles hither and thither, and upon the smiling babe partaking of a milk lunch at its mother's breast.
The women sat quietly out of the way, and talked to one another in low tones. They stood in evident awe of their lords and masters. Now and then one of the bloused heroes would deign to cast his frau a word, which she received with lavish eagerness.
Few emigrants pass the night in the Garden. The majority leave for the West the same day they land, and those who are not westward bound seem to have friends or relatives in the big city, who come to look out for them.
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