Welcome to America!

Everyone’s heard of Ellis Island. It was the gateway to New York City, to America. Twelve millions immigrants passed through its gates from 1892 to 1954. But what about the millions who came before 1892? How did they enter America?

Castle Garden.

Never heard of it? Neither had I. But for my novel, Masquerade, which involves two English girls coming to New York in 1886, I had to learn.

In the early 1800’s, at the southernmost tip of Manhattan, Castle Clinton (which was to become Castle Garden) was created as a fortification to protect the city from the British. In peacetime, during the 1820’s, it took on a resort-like purpose with a theatre and restaurant. People would stroll around the walls of “Battery Park”, take warm sea-water baths, read newspapers from around the world, and drink mint juleps. Many inventions were first demonstrated there: the submarine, the telegraph, and the steam fired engine.

In the 1840’s because of the Irish potato famine and the hopelessness it spawned, hundreds of thousands of immigrants came to America. In 1855 Castle Clinton was appropriated to deal with the influx. Eighteen-eighty-six, the year of my story, was also the year the Statue of Liberty was given to the United States as a gift from France. I have a scene when the characters arrive in New York harbor in October, 1886, and see the statue right before Lady Liberty was dedicated.

So how did the immigrants carry out their entry into the United States at Castle Garden? It was a tedious process. They arrived on ships that anchored in the harbor. Officials came on board to check on the health of its passengers, and the cleanliness of the ship. The officials didn’t want anyone to come ashore who might end up a ward of the state or cause an epidemic. I can’t imagine getting that far only to be sent home without ever setting foot on American soil.

Next, the passengers were ferried to Manhattan on barges—First Class first, of course. There, they entered the Castle Garden rotunda which was a magnificent circular structure with natural light coming in at the center. There—as with Ellis Island years later—they began the process of hurry-up-and-wait. A reporter from “Harper’s Weekly” said, “The whole floor is as busy as an anthill and a great deal noisier, a great deal more picturesque, also with the strange shapes and hues of the costumes of many nations, and vocal with more different dialects of human speech than have been heard since the Tower of Babel.”

Every passenger had to go before a clerk who entered their name, home town, reason for coming to America, and destination in a large ledger. You were required to prove you had money. Most people had between $5 and $50, with Russians and Poles generally the poorest. If you hesitated or acted like you were lying or were not all there mentally, you could get sent home. I’m sure everyone was very nervous, so I wonder how many were sent home with false reason.

There was a men’s and ladies’ where you could clean up, a place to change money, a lunch counter where you could have a sausage sandwich, a railway station, and a labor exchange. Most people were hired as factory workers, farm hands, or domestics. Once all this was accomplished, you had to leave the area. There were no beds in Castle Garden and you weren’t allowed to sleep on the benches outside. However, nearby there were plenty of seedy boarding houses that charged too much.


Castle Garden also had an elevated train that led to all points north. And besides the people luring you toward a boarding house, there were plenty of others who were quite willing to take you—literally. Shysters were abundant, and the confused immigrants who couldn’t speak the language were often conned out of their money and sometimes their lives. The lucky ones had family there to meet them.

Also there to meet them were Christians who handed out religious tracts, offering help and fellowship for those hoping to keep their faith alive in this new world. They would need God’s help here . . .

There were also people selling their wares. One in particular was the apple lady, Jane Noonan. She sold her apples and oranges at Castle Garden every day for decades. Once Ellis Island opened she took her business there. Such an entrepreneur!

You can still visit Castle Clinton today. Castle Clinton Visitor Information. Or see more pictures of Castle Garden at: Castle Garden pictures.  //Nancy Moser

Food Fit for a Pioneer

Food Fit for a Pioneer

My Grandma Rose made amazing meals on her wood-burning stove. I can still see her lifting one of the iron plates with a removable handle (which I believe is called a botch handle) and feeding the fire to heat things up. My favorite was hot dogs wrapped in bacon. Probably not something that would qualify as a “meal” to health-minded folks today, but the aroma of bacon in the farmhouse kitchen and the warmth the stove gave off combined to create great memories. Of course since my childhood didn’t consist of any worries of going hungry, I can wax nostalgic about wood-burning stoves and such. I’m thinking that the women I write about wouldn’t share the sentiment.

One Nebraska pioneer shared this description of biscuit-making in late nineteenth century Nebraska: “first stoke the stove; get out the flour sack; stoke the stove; wash the hands; mix the biscuit dough with the hands; stoke the fire; wash hands; cut the biscuit dough with the top of the baking powder can; stoke the stove; wash the hands; put the biscuits into the oven; keep on firing until the hot bread is ready for the table, not forgetting to wash the hands before taking up the biscuits.”


Of course the ability to make biscuits assumed the presence of flour, fuel, and baking powder. In 1872, a pioneer woman living in Fillmore County, Nebraska shared a new recipe in a letter home: “I tried a new way to make custard I use water instead of milk and it does real well. . .If you was living in Neb you would try a great many projects that you never think of in Indiana.”


Another woman homesteading near Red Cloud, Nebraska, in 1874 wrote, “One who has never tried living on coarse bread, salt, meat and milk, without vegetables or fruit, can hardly realize much about it . . .Old Bonie had a calf three days ago and great is the excitement, while visions of butter to eat, and butter to sell, much milk and bowls of milk gravy float before our dazzled eyes.” She then waxed philosophical about the deprivation her family endured:


If we had everything all the time we wouldn't know how good they were.


How true that is. I tend to take things for granted sometimes. Like the gas range in my kitchen, the half-gallon of milk, the pound of butter, the five-pound bag of freshly milled flour. . .and the knowledge that, when I run out of anything I need, there is abundance waiting at the grocery store just a short walk away. I am blessed. . . no water-based custard here in Lincoln, Nebraska, and no need to milk Old Bonie before enjoying “butter to eat and butter to sell, much milk and bowls of milk gravy.”

Hope your week gets off to a wonderful start. . . . custard, anyone?

--Stephanie G.

Sail Away

We’ve all heard about the Titanic’s fateful voyage. But that was 1912. My novel, Masquerade, is set in 1886. So how did people cross the ocean twenty-six years before the unsinkable Titanic? Did they sail?

Yes, and no. The ships were called steamers, but many of them also had sails. The Etruria, which I name as the ship in my novel, was one of the last to be fitted with the auxiliary sales. It nearly became a war ship before it took its first passenger voyage because in 1885 there was a crisis when Russia threatened to attack Afghanistan, and for a brief time the British Admiralty commandeered the ship into service. Luckily, the crisis was averted, and the Etruria took its first voyage from Liverpool to New York City on April 25, 1885. There were 550 First Class and 800 Second Class passengers, and no Steerage passengers until 1892—but I fudged on this last fact because I wanted some Third Class passengers on my autumn 1886 voyage. Actually, the steerage passengers fascinate me almost as much as the fancy passengers up-top. They were the courageous ones, giving up everything in the hopes that America would fulfill their dreams. My ancestors were some of those brave ones...

One real-life passenger on my particular voyage on the Etruria was Bram Stoker, eventually the author of Dracula. Another famous man took this ship, though nine years after my story took place. Twenty-year-old Winston Churchill sailed on this ship to the USA for the first time—his mother’s homeland. There’s a letter from him which reveals his attitude while on board: “There are no nice people on board to speak of, certainly none to write of… There is to be a concert on board tonight at which all the stupid people among the passengers intend to perform and the stupider ones applaud.” A little haughty, Winston?

So, what did the First Class cabins on the Etruria look like? They were very ornate with a lot of luxurious fabrics and doo-dads—as was the Victorian way. Think about the furnishings and décor in the movie, “Titanic.” I tried to find actual photos of the Etruria, but came up empty. I did however, find a very interesting book (The Fabulous Interiors of the Great Ocean Liners by William H. Miller, Jr.) that had photographs of steamers that sailed after the turn of the century. We’ll have to assume the earlier steamers had similar accommodations. I can’t imagine the Vanderbilt and Astor set settling for plain and simple rooms.

The trip across the Atlantic took six days, with the First Class one-way fare being between $75-$175, and second class costing $40-45. In today’s money that would be $1700-4100 and $900.
The public rooms in First Class were stunning. These pictures are from an early-20th century steamer. I used them as my inspiration for the dining room and my characters’ stateroom. As far as there being space for a full-fledged ball . . . I couldn’t find anything for or against the idea, so decided why not?

A few years ago I participated in a Dickens Festival where we learned how to waltz to a calliope playing Strauss.It was a magical experience, especially wearing a long gown that swept behind me as I swirled, especially since my partner was an excellent dancer. We’re missing something by not waltzing anymore . . . And the cruise ships I’ve been on—no matter how fancy—are missing the elegance of this previous age. I’d be quite willing to give up having a disco on board if I could attend just one more ball. In costume, of course.//Nancy Moser