From the JC archive 1906: A blood red dawn in Kent as new controls on migrants sail into law

Meanwhile the ship had come to a dead stop. The doctor appeared on the scene; as well as Mr Evans (the Chief Immigration Officer), and the Immigration Officer (Mr Yelldon). It does not take long to discover that the Customs officials, who have been given the task of conditionally dealing with the aliens, are an uncommonly smart set of men. Judging from the proceedings on board the Silvia, they are as kindly as they are able. Somebody sang out from the first cabin: “Nicht die Juden. Die Englander voraus” (Not the Jews. The Englishmen first). That was the signal that the Aliens Act had begun its work.

The Englishmen were soon disposed of. “Wolf Isaacovitch “ was the next call. Isaacovitch – a tall man who has left his youth behind him – strode forward, and disappeared into the cabin. He was a transmigrant bound for South Africa. He, too, was quickly dealt with – handed over to the Jews’ Temporary Shelter, two representatives of which, Mr Mundy and Mr Posner, were on board.

Next it was the Chinamen’s turn. They were gathered on,the starboard side of the vessel, laughing, and chattering. The officials questioned those who were apparently their leaders, and from their answers it appeared that they had been paid off from a German vessel, and had come on to England with the object of signing on on another ship. The Chinamen were taken down and dealt with in detail.

By this time it was dusk. A keen wind was blowing up the river, and the hatless women pacing up and down in the gathering darkness, some with children in their arms, were truly to be pitied. Suddenly there was a cry of “Minchah.” The aliens – men and women with their little ones – trooped down below deck and read the afternoon service.

Presently came the weird call: “Women and children first.” The turn of the “Juden” had arrived. The Jewesses were gently handled. They were taken in ones and twos down to the first cabin. There, round a table, sat the Immigration Officer – a kindly old gentleman in spectacles – an interpreter, and the Captain of the ship. In an adjoining room the Medical Officer first put the women under examination – principally with reference to their eyes and chest. After that they were questioned by the lay tribunal. They were asked as to the amount of money in their possession, and the address they were proceeding to. All seemed to be going to a husband, or brother, or other relative. One attractive and self-possessed young woman had come over to marry. She was allowed to join her young man in peace. All of the women and their children successfully weathered the ordeal.

Lastly came the turn of the men. Many of them were sturdy specimens of humanity, and I was not in the least surprised that they all passed the doctor without trouble. The chief questions addressed to them were: (1) How much money have you? (2) Why did you leave Russia ? (3) Have you an address to go to – any occupation or promise of work?

As a rule the answer to the first question did not satisfy the money standard laid down by the memorandum of Instructions. Here and there more than the necessary sum was found to be in the possession of the alien. But often it was the case of 10 roubles, 15 roubles and so forth. One young fellow bluntly asserted that he had nothing. But he had £2 worth of goods at Portsmouth and a sister in London. With the goods – buttons and such like – he proposed to travel. To help him regain possession of them there was his sister in London. The two considerations helped him through the national turnstiles.

The second question was put, apparently, with the intention of giving the utmost possible effect to the provision in the Act relating to religious and political refugees. The Immigration Officer undoubtedly gave it all the force it was capable of. The Memorandum lays it down, with all the emphasis of italics, that such refugees must prove that they are fleeing from. persecution or danger. But no attempt was made to insist on proof – other than the statements of the immigrant.

One young fellow was a watchmaker at home. Then came a ‘pogrom’ which left his shop in ruins. It was the story of Tchifikoff’s Chosen People in real life – the watchmaker’s shop, the mob, the murderous riot. But the victim in the stage play was old and this one was young – young enough to shake the dust of Russia off his feet and take ship for a land where he could mend his watches in peace. In another case a young fellow stated he was a soldier – one of 12 comrades who had refused the order to fire on the strikers at Elizabethgrad. He had been helped to escape from the danger zone. A third immigrant was asked why he had left Odessa, “Because they killed my wife” was the laconic reply.

Right!” was the still more laconic comment of the Immigration Officer as he allowed him to pass. Varied were the replies given to the third question. One immigrant was a tailor, another a locksmith, a third was in the mineral-water trade, a fourth a weaver. This last alien was a tall, fair young Christian Pole, as innocent of manners (or fear), as of biology. He had come away on account of the trouble in his native land. “But there’s no weaving work to be done in London!” exclaimed the Immigration Officer. However, it was ascertained that the alien had a cousin in England. “All right! You can go !” said the officer.

It was the possession of an address to go to which seemed to be the determining factor in many cases, and most of the aliens produced a slip of paper on which was written the address of a relative. A lad, for instance, was going to join his uncle. The officer listened. “Right! Go on!” he said, and the immigrant was, dismissed into liberty. One fellow, who was “ let go,” manifested his pleasure in a series of “good nights” addressed to the officials and on-lookers. “Call him back,” said the good-humoured officer. “Don’t say ‘good night’ twice,” he admonished the immigrant. The immigrant vanished after a humble explanation.

By about a quarter past seven the Jews were finished with, and all had been passed. In the meantime all hope of the vessel reaching London that night had gone. “Call number one!” cried the Immigration Officer. “Number One” presently stepped into the cabin, and proved to be a pale-faced, demure Chinaman, rejected for sickness. He represented the sole result of the evening’s work – the entire haul from the steamship “Silvia.”

As one clambered over the sides of the vessel into the boat below, and was rowed back to shore, one thought that this solitary Celestial from Canton, stranded among the foreign devils, might form the theme of a new verse for the Passover song ‘I know One’ — in the days when the tragedy of the thing has passed, and the hand of destiny, or the march of civilisation, has laid the Aliens Act on the dust-heap of broken barbarisms.

 The Aliens Act 1905 which passed into law on January 1 1906 ended the UK’s open door policy for immigrants, it was passed after a campaign focusing on Jewish migrants fleeing persecution –  including economic measures which forced them into poverty –  in  Russia and Poland. Immigration controls and registration were introduced for the first time under the oversight of the Home Secretary.  Those who "appeared unable to support themselves" or "likely to become a charge upon the rates" were declared "undesirable". Potential immigrants were also turned away on medical grounds, like one unfortunate Chinaman in this report. Asylum-seekers fleeing from religious or political persecution were exempted from the act but the burden of proof was on the migrant. Simon Gelberg –  later Gilbert –  later became Deputy Editor of the Jewish Chronicle. He felt strongly about the Aliens Act, and threatened to resign if the JC did not oppose it. I feel he would have much to say about the current immigration debate 120 on. KD