Passenger Voyages – From Palermo to New Orleans 1903
The steamship Manilla arrived in New Orleans from Palermo in October of 1903 with more than 1,300 Sicilian immigrants.
Below is a page from the ship manifest listing some of the passengers. Details included name, age, married or single, calling or occupation, last permanent residence (province, city, or town), and final destination (address, name, and relation).
Newspapers at the time reported about the voyages and described specific details about each arrival. Below are some excerpts written at the time about this particular voyage.
08 October 1903, Thursday
The Times-Democrat (New Orleans)
ITALIAN IMMIGRANTS.
The Steamer Manilla Brought More Than Thirteen Hundred.
The steamship Manilla, from Palermo, Italy, with 1351 Italian immigrants and eleven stowaways, passed quarantine at 5:55 o’clock yesterday afternoon and will arrive up at the Point this morning. The examination and inspection of the immigrants will last two days at least, and none will be allowed to land before Saturday, or perhaps Sunday morning. The Manilla will not come to the landing until the work at inspection and examining the immigrants has been completed. She will lay in midstream at the Point while the government officers are carrying on the work of inspection.
After the inspection the big steamer will land at the Northeastern wharf where all the immigrants qualified to land will be discharged. Those who fail to pass the authorities will be deported to Italy. The Manilla sailed from Palermo on Sept. 24.
09 October 1903, Friday
The Times-Democrat (New Orleans)
SONS OF SUNNY ITALY
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COMING OF STRANGERS TO A STRANGE LAND
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Scenes Aboard the Steamer Manilla, with the Hundreds of Italians, Who Come to Seek Their Fortunes on the Shores of Free America.
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Two miles down the river, anchored in midstream, gently swaying and rocking with the tide, her great hulk looming dark in the bright sunlight, lies the steamship Manilla. On board this great ship are some 1300 immigrants, men, women, and children, who have come to this strange country from the sunny shores of Italy to seek their fortunes.
As they lean over the side of the big steamer, gazing with longing and curious eyes at the shore, so near and yet so far, they present a wonderful sight to the one to whom such scenes are unfamiliar.
Many of these people have, perhaps never before been more than a few miles away from their native homes in Italy, and to take the long and weary journey of thousands of miles across the Atlantic Ocean has seemed to them a marvelous undertaking, as indeed it is.
Some of the strangers have relatives in this country, scattered from coast to coast, others have none. They come here, many without friends or money, not knowing where they will go, and, perhaps, not caring, borne forward by unconquerable desire to come to this great and beautiful country.
For years they have been saving up in their little purses, the pittances which they have received for their labor in foreign lands, preparing for the one supreme event—the journey across the Atlantic to the new world, and the purpose has lived before their eyes in vague dreams and in confidential whispers with their fathers, mothers and sweethearts.
It is a colossal undertaking.
For years and years they have looked forward to this great journey. Saving and scrimping, putting by, little by little, they have at last laid up sufficient to pay for the steerage passage to this country.
After the great voyage is over and the ship is at last safely anchored in port, and it is only a matter of a few hours or a day or two before they will be put ashore, the anxiety and desire to reach the land, to embrace their friends, to get down again to the business of living, becomes almost unbearable. The attention and care of the officers and crew of the ship has been all that one could desire—as the immigrants testify with glad and thankful hearts before they leave—yet they are only too willing to leave the sheltering supervision of the ship’s crew and to get ashore.
Clinging to the bulwarks of the great ship, all day the vast crowd stands gazing at the promised land, the land toward which they have been creeping for days and days. They stand and gaze: gaze with longing eyes, in which shine the mingled feelings of happiness and anxiety.
In diminutive skiffs, which have been rowed out to the ship as she lies in mid-stream, are hundreds of friends and relatives of some of the strangers who are so fearfully awaiting the chance to join them on the shore of the land of their dreams.
From the little boats alongside to the bulwarks high above the surface of the river, continually there passes an excited and animated flow of words, all in the Italian tongue. Some of the boats become so excited and are so anxious to communicate with their imprisoned friends that they stand up, and regardless of the imminent risk that they subject themselves to, of being pitched overboard, they cry and howl their greeting, shout their advice and their felicitations, gesticulating, waving frantically with their arms.
All day these people to whom America is no longer a strange place, hover like a flock of sea gulls about the big ship. Come more and more, and yet others, clothed in their Sunday best, to pay their respects to the strangers.
Until the dusk begins to intrude and to hide the fond faces of the newcomers from view, citizens from the shore of their adopted land continue to arrive at the side of the great ship. They at last turn reluctantly back, shouting and yelling their partings and advice.
The Manilla left Italy on the 17th of last month. Wednesday, at about half past one o’clock, she steamed out of the Gulf and came up the river. She arrived at her anchorage at about 7 o’clock, she steamed out of the Gulf and came up the river. Her voyage was without mishap. All who came with her, including eleven stowaways, were in the best of health when she lowered her anchor in the waters of the Mississippi.
Her master is Capt. Salvatore Aufoss. The officers of the ship are all fine Italian gentlemen, and the courtesy with which they received and entertained the Custom House officials and a few visitors was highly appreciated.
The Italian immigration agent who takes care of the strangers and sees that they are sent on their way safe to their destinations is A. Dell Orto. The United State Immigration Inspector is W.E. Howard. The chief deputy surveyor is Mr. Flower. These gentlemen, assisted by an efficient corps of inspectors, got to work at an early hour yesterday morning. Capt Madden acted as chief deputy inspector of customs, and was assisted by the following: Mrs. Sarah Baker, Lewis Ittman, E. K. Russ, Mr. Wooldridge, E. S. St. Ceran, Messrs. Arroyo and Toombs. When all was ready for the examination of the immigrants they were called to appear before the inspectors. They stood in little crowds of a dozen or so, along one bulwark. As the inspectors were prepared to receive them they stepped up, one at a time, to the long table at which sat the inspectors and the interpreter.
Some took the matter stoically, while others showed nervousness. A woman was told to come forward. She was perhaps fifty years of age. Leading by the hand she guided her ten-year-old daughter. The woman’s face was lined with wrinkles, her hands were hard. She had been used to labor. After the usual questions regarding her intentions as to her future mode of living, how much money she had, and if she was free from any contract, and divers {sic} others, she was passed. Her daughter went with her.
The next to come up for examination was a young man dressed in modern clothes of this country. He was a handsome fellow and seemed ready to answer any of the many questions. He was passed.
Following came a little old man, stooped with age. He mumbled his replies to the interrogations of the inspectors and seemed anxious to get the ordeal over with. He was finally passed.
Next was a man who resembled a brigand who had just stepped from out of the hills of Italy. About his head was tied a bright red scarf, and he held a small pipe in his mouth, which he removed with a flourish as he was brought to the front.
Others came. Some got by with no difficulty, but many found trouble in finding ready replies to the searching questions of the inspectors. Hour after hour the inspectors sat at their table. Came the men, women and children, to answer to the inquiries which, if truly or cleverly answered, passed them on into the free country of their long-dreamed of emancipation.
10 October 1903, Saturday
The Times-Democrat (New Orleans)
In a seemingly endless stream, laughing crying, shouting, swarmed down the gang plank from the steamship Manilla from Italy, the immigrants who for the last two days have been imprisoned on board ship, passing through the ordeal of inspection.
The immigrants were landed yesterday at the Northeastern wharves. Some 1300 men, women and children came ashore. For an hour and more there was a constant march of Italians down the gang plank. They came in great drove, one after the other, passing the little opening in the bulwarks at the side of the ship and on down the long gang plank to the shore. Here they were met by friends and relatives, who stood by and anxiously scanned the faces of the passengers as they walked slowly and hesitatingly along the way to the land.
The Manilla lowered her anchor in the waters of the Mississippi early on Wednesday morning. All that day, and the next, the inspectors of customs and the inspectors of passports were busy in examining the immigrants. At last the ordeal was over, and the immigrants were given their liberty.
For three long and weary weeks they had been cooped up on board ship. For three long and tiresome weeks they had been forced to live in their cramped quarters, and the relief of getting ashore after all this was a heaven-sent blessing.
When the examination was finished and the immigrants were told that they would soon be landed there was sent up a great shout of rejoicing and gladness. Each one wanted to be the first to reach the shore.
Pushing and shoving, with yells and nervous complainings, they prepared for the departure. It was the great moment. As the gang plank was lowered they all crowded to the little gate that admitted to the plank and waited with the utmost impatience for the beginning. It was the beginning of the end for them, and they were anxious to get it over with. After this there was a second life for each one of the men, women and children on that ship.
From here each one will go to some farm or plantation. Some few will, however, remain in the city, where they will start their little fruit stands, but of the 1300 who yesterday left the ship the largest number will be sent to farms and plantations throughout the State.
