[On January 1,
1892, Ellis
Island immigration station opened in New York Harbor. Nearly 500,000
immigrants came through the station in its first year, and the rest is history.
Very complex history, though, and so for Ellis’s 125th anniversary
I’ll analyze five contexts for the station and the immigration stories to which
it connects. Leading up to a special weekend post on 21st century
immigration!]
On how Ellis
continued yet changed the long history of New York harbor quarantine stations.
One of the most
famous pop culture depictions of Ellis Island (although that’s certainly a long and
evolving list, and while the film isn’t great overall, I would say that this sequence from Hitch is worth noting too) would
have to be in The
Godfather, Part 2. As part of that film’s extended flashback sections, young Vito Corleone arrives
at Ellis on a steamer from Sicily, only to find himself marked as suffering
from a communicable disease and moved to a room in the island’s quarantine
section. However we read the moment symbolically—and much of Vito’s Italian
American story, as told in those flashback sequrences, is one of continual
obstacles that help make him into the Godfather he would become, so this delay
in arrival might well be analyzed as an early and formative example of that
trend—it’s certainly accurate historically: one of the greatest fears embodied
in the processes and procedures at Ellis Island was of European and global
diseases and epidemics coming to the U.S., and the station made responding
to such threats a central part of its mission throughout its history.
To say that
serving such a role was nothing new for a New York harbor island would be to seriously
understate the case, however. As this excellent
website documents at length, harbor islands had served as quarantine
stations (or “plague houses”) since at least the 1750s, when Bedloe’s
Island (the future site of the Statue of Liberty, after which it was renamed
Liberty Island) became a quarantine spot (that last hyperlink dates its
first use as a quarantine facility even earlier, in the 1730s). When Castle Garden
immigration station opened in Lower Manhattan in the 1850s, it used two nearby harbor
islands, Blackwell’s
Island and Ward’s
Island, as its quarantine spots. As those two hyperlinked histories
illustrate, each such quarantine island had its own unique and multi-layered story
and identity, one often connected to other “undesirable” New York City communities
such as convicted criminals and those deemed insane. Yet in the 1870s, the city
went another way, creating two new artificial harbor islands, Swinburne
Island and Hoffman Island, that would be dedicated solely to use as
quarantine spots and would remain in that role once Ellis Island immigration
station opened in 1892.
While Ellis did
use those artificial islands for some of its quarantined arrivals, however, the
immigration station also had quarantine
quarters on site (it’s in one such room that young Vito Corleone waits out
his own quarantine). That shift reflected the station’s more comprehensive
embodiment of national immigration policies and narratives than any prior
facility, as well as its gradual move toward more and more exclusionary roles
(both trends about which I’ve written earlier in the week). Yet making the
quarantine process a more explicit and interconnected part of the immigration
station’s work has also had an unexpected result for historians: our ability to
better trace those immigrants who did not survive their time in quarantine. This
website, for example, matches relevant New York City death certificates
from 1909 to 1911 with ship manifests and passenger details, identifying
immigrant arrivals who seem to have passed away while in quarantine. That
information not only tells us a great deal about individual immigrants and
immigrant communities, as much of Ellis’ archives and records do, but also
helps us better understand the histories and realities of the complex, dark,
and vital quarantine process overall.
Last
IslandStudying tomorrow,
Ben
PS. What do you
think? Other Ellis Island responses or contexts?
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