How They Came Out in the Fifties

-"It is consolatory to reflect that while other nations are fighting for social existence and preventing an excess of population by fratricidal war, we are bridging over the immensity of the ocean to encourage clamorous and discontented multitudes to fly to a land of exuberant plenty; and that instead of slaughtering men at the barricades we are enabling them to build up a mighty Empire in a distant land, in which they can enjoy every political and social blessing."

The above gratulatory effusion appeared fifty-five years ago in a Sydney newspaper of the period, and was inspired by the near prospect of steam communication with Great Britain and the increasing number of immigrants arriving on Australian shores. It was, however, in the course of the next few years after the discovery of gold that the peopling of the young "land of exuberant plenty" began in real earnest. Tall ships crammed with men, women, and children brought their human cargoes from many parts of the world, and discharged them on to Australian soil for months at the rate of some 3000 per month. Of course, as might have been expected, in a long passage of at times immense duration, discomforts, and even hardships, of every description had to be undergone by those bound for the so distant new country. English vessels appear to have been the best from an immigrant's point of view in all respects of accommodation, food, and treatment generally. Scotch ships, on the other hand, gained an unenviable notoriety in the above details as regarded the care of their passengers. American immigrants, however, appear to have had the worst times of all, if the following instance is to be taken as any sort of average guide: The vessel in question sailed from New York, bound to Melbourne, with about 140 passengers. Scarcely, however, had she got out to sea before the provisions were discovered to be of the poorest and most objectionable description. Taking no less than seven weeks to reach the Line, she must, considering that she had favourable winds, have been a wonderfully poor sailer, as well as an ill-found ship. The passengers at this point remonstrated with the master, and he put into Rio Janiero for a fresh supply of provisions. Endless squabbles had been the rule so far; indeed, the ship entered Rio with the American flag reversed in sign of trouble. To make matters worse, no one could be found to advance any money upon the vessel. Therefore, fresh provisions could not be procured. Presently the captain started back to New York to endeavour to raise the necessary funds. After he departed matters became worse than ever; the mate had been left in charge, and the food became simply abominable. Luckily, the British Consul interfered (many of the passengers were Canadians), and succeeded in procuring decent provisions for the unfortunate people. But the delay was to have fatal consequences; yellow fever broke out on board; and during the next four months of the ship's stay played havoc with the immigrants. Those who could afford it--very few--took passage in another New York ship bound to Melbourne, and from them the "Argus" of that day got the lamentable story. "Our American citizens" are also called upon "to mark such a detestable occurrence with the punishment and odium it so deeply merits. Such a want of foresight, followed by such a breach of honourable engagement, and such a contempt for suffering and death we have rarely heard of; and surely it will not be allowed to pass without receiving such a punishment as will prevent the like ever recurring."