EAST AND WEST LONDON
By the Rev. Harry Jones. Published by Smith, Elder & Co., 1875
(an extract)

    I must say a word about this, as it is indeed in some
measure characteristic of the business that goes on at this
end of London.  Not only are we in contact with the 
uttermost parts of the earth by means of the merchandise 
which we receive from thence, but this depot is our door of
departure for New Zealand.  I have frequently to sign the 
papers of those who sail hence.  The first day I visited it
the dining-room was filled with a crowd of hungry emigrants
waiting for dinner, and the air with the odour of its 
advent. They sat in messes of eight or ten, to each of 
which was a captain, who kept his nose steadily pointed 
towards the door through which the smell came.

    Presently a signal was given, and each disappeared, 
receiving a ticket as he passed out. With this he descended
to the kitchen, returning in a minute or two, mostly 
grinning, and bearing a large brown oval dish, divided in 
the middle.  One half was filled with roast-beef and the 
other with potatoes.  There was enough and to spare for all.

    'They waste a lot,' said one of the officials. But I 
don't know; it seemed to be appreciated.  'Ah,' remarked a 
country-looking fellow to me, with his cheek bulged with a 
huge bite, and a twinkle in his eye, 'I wish, sir, they 
would let me stay here for a month.' 'Rare good victuals,' 
said another. 'I believe you,' added a third; 'Tain't allus 
we've had a bellyful of cooked meat every day.'

    The emigrants are fed and taken to New Zealand free of 
charge, excepting £1 each for 'bedding-money' for those over
 twelve, and 10s. each for those under that age.  I was 
struck with the air of confidence displayed by most.  They 
were leaving the old country with less regret than I liked 
to see, though some of the elders looked sad.  The majority 
were labourers.  The officials told me that on the arrival 
of the ship at its destination they were for some time 









lodged in a depot free of expense, but that they were 
generally engaged at once, or soon fetched away by friends.

    The sleeping arrangements at the depot prepare the 
emigrants for their inevitable crowding on board-ship. The 
married couples have each a berth to themselves, but dozens
of these sleep in what would be called, on shore, the same 
apartment. Their discomfort, to use the mildest word, 
especially during the first week of the voyage, must be 
extreme. The single men and women are of course kept 
scrupulously apart, and their berths, especially those of the
former - which were 22 inches wide, and separated by a wooden
division some 6 inches high - looked unpleasant enough. 
However, free carriage and food can hardly be expected to be 
luxurious.  Some of the men wore red-carpet slippers, which 
were an odd finish to an earth-stained suit of fustian or 
corduroy.  Divers, however, had on their 'Sunday' clothes. 

    The vessels are fine-looking and roomy.  But the 
'roominess' of a ship, like that of any other place, is 
comparative, being determined by the number it is made to 
hold.  Several of them were waiting their turn in the Docks 
hard by, and sticking their bowsprits over the quays in that 
long masted line which fringes the land in these parts, and 
to which the dirty Blackwall Railway ministers with incessant
trains.  The depot associated with this at Plymouth sends 
emigrants to Sydney, Adelaide, and New Zealand. This at 
Blackwall is a point of embarkation for New Zealand alone, and
has seen the departure of seventeen thousand emigrants from 
May 11th, 1874, to August 7th in this year, which gives an 
average of more than a thousand a month. I found divers Scotch
and German families awaiting the next ship. It looks as if New
Zealand were filling up fast, since this is only part of the 
human stream which is incessantly being poured into it from 
Europe.



Provided by L.R. Mills