Reichstag memories 1873

A VOYAGE TO AUSTRALIA IN THE OLD DAYS

Memories from the Voyage with Reichstag in 1873

By Reverend George E. Sass

From the Danish Magazine Vores Udvandrede Landsmœnd
[Our Emigrated Countrymen], 1903

Translation by Robert Ørsted Jensen

Reverend Sass, full name in Danish was Jørgen Enoch Johansen Sass. He was born in 1854 on the island, Lolland, in Denmark and after years in Queensland (on two occasions) and New Zealand, he returned to Denmark in about 1900. Sass died at age 78 years in his Copenhagen home in 1932.

 Sass, alias Jørgen Johansen, was only 18 years old when, in anger, he ran away from his parents and home and signed up as an emigrant to Queensland. Here he later became the first Danish pastor in the Lutheran Scandinavian church in Brisbane.

 In 1878 he was transferred to New Zealand where he spent many years and ordinated [ordained?] the young Carl Bjelke-Petersen (father of the former Queensland Premier). Sass returned to Denmark in 1902.

It was Easter 1873. A Swedish steamer lay in front of the Custom's House in Copenhagen Harbour, ready to go with one of Thayssens Expedition emigration-parties1. Port of destination was Queensland in Australia, and port of departure was Hamburg. The voyage was all paid for the Government of the Queen's Colony and only about 50 Krone had to be paid by each person for equipment. The scene was uproar, and I cannot put it any better way than describe it with the following picturesque words of a Danish writer:

 There was a strange confusing noise on board, one could hear people - some people laugh and some cry, timid mothers rocked the little ones at the knee while their drunken husbands cursed. Here and there one could hear the sound of a dirty song clinging in the air, and some snored as pigs at the deck of the ship.

One glanced ashore from the ceiling with tears in his eyes, farewelling the coasts of his fatherland for the last time.

The passage to Lübeck2 went off in fine weather, which was fortunate while only a few of the passengers would have been able to find shelter. Arrived at Hamburg (by train), all of us were accommodated in one of the big - so-called - Emigrant Houses. It's impossible to describe the confusion - crowded boxes, miserable food and unbelievable filthiness were the most striking peculiarities. Fortunately we didn't have to stay there for long. By the dirty (rightly: everything else then blue) channels we, together with all our earthly belongings, were barged out to the [river] Elbe where the emigrant ship, a long, black (full-) ship lay there awaiting us.

 A tiny hencoop ladder led us the way down to the middle deck. Here again it was divided into boxes, but there were no doors in between. Over, under and beside each other, without walls to divide us, families were stored up like goods. There was no room for decency - and I will not mention the sanitary condition.

 The ship went off fine, and after passing the Channel, we couldn't see land before the Australian coast was sighted. In the beginning of the voyage things went off reasonably, and everything was taken with a good sense of humour. Well, the food was terrible, beyond any description. Bread was nearly an unknown thing on board. We had Pjaltesuppe (ragged soup), peas, herring and sauerkraut. And something that most resembled a muddy substance, one could call it coffee or tea (couldn't tell from the taste), was always on the menu, together with some dry bone-like hardtacks as big as the moon, as it looks at full moon at quite a distance.

 But the moment we entered warmer areas, the conditions on board rapidly worsened. The water became rotten, and the same happened to the food. The ship became filled with bedbugs, cockroaches and what was even worse, the air below deck was poisonous. Under these circumstances it seemed obvious that a catastrophe was near, and it was. The passengers faded away, and it became obvious, that many, especially among the children, would never to see land again.

 Life on board was very trivial. However, in the first part of the voyage, not without a certain form of - grotesque humour. It was extremely ridiculous when one of the young people lectured on, that when we passed the Line, yes - then everything would turn upside down. Summer and winter, day and night - yes, even the sun rise in the west and set in the east. And he had even heard that cities down under would "draw together" - he just didn't know at which end. When for weeks she hadn't seen anything else but sky and water, an old woman, purely simple-minded, burst out: "The Captain has lost his way; no wonder, [because] how would anyone be able to find his way here!" That's how things looked to her!

The passengers spent their time "Med Sang, Leg, Læsning og Sladder fordrev Folk Tiden (with singing songs, [playing] games, reading, gossip and laughter). We also had troubles breaking out between the Danish and the German passengers - the war wasn't that many years ago. But no real harm was done. The colony government had made arrangements for the children on board to receive some education on the journey, but little money was at hand for this purpose. Being among the best educated, I was appointed to this duty which took all my time until an epidemic set in and we had to cancel it all.

 It was a vicious fever that broke loose among us. I, myself, was its first victim but recovered after a long and hard time. Children died like flies, many adults too. We arrived nearly half a hundred people less that when we set out. Appalling scenes took place for an observer: A man had lost his wife and both of his children. Some children had lost one or both of their parents. And nobody was yet sure of his own life, while all of us were heavily weakened, and the disease strongly infectious. Under these circumstances a certain seriousness broke out - frivolous songs ceased and hymns and prayers sounded. It will not be part of this article to tell how this experience changed my life and led me into the spiritual breakthrough of my life. Only will I point out that it was - in this scene of misery - I got the calling to the work that has been mine for thirty years.

  ______

MR ANDERS NIELSEN
63 Years in State
PIONEER SETTLER

Extract from
Morning Bulletin (Rockhampton, Saturday 16 March 1935 Page 12

SAILS FOR AUSTRALIA

About this time Denmark, Schleswig, Holstein and Germany were one mass of posters, put up by the immigration agents appointed by the Queensland Government, pointing out what a wonderful country was Queensland. This picture was so alluring, more especially as a free passage out was given, that Mr Nielsen, who already had a sister in Townsville, decided to come out to the new El Dorado.

Collecting their Lares and Penates¹, Mr and Mrs Nielsen went across to Hamburg and in 1873 they left there on the sailing ship Reichstag. There were over 400 immigrants, mostly Germans and Danes, with a few Swedes and Norwegians for good measure.

The voyage, which lasted three months, was a veritable nightmare, for sickness was rife and there were quite a number of deaths, principally among the children. “Even now," said Mr Nielsen, "the recollection is not a pleasing one when I recall how those who passed away were sewn in sacking with a few lumps of coal enclosed, and thrown overboard."

But everything comes to an end, even the voyage of a sailing vessel, and finally the youthful couple were landed at Maryborough in 1873. They were verily strangers in a strange land, for though both could speak Danish and German fluently, the English language to them was an unknown tongue. Not one word of English was spoken on the Reichstag, which was German owned and manned.  

 "We were taken off the Reichstag by a tender," said Mr Nielsen, "and up the Mary River. The banks were heavily timbered and we saw a lot of blacks. Some of the immigrants were very scared, especially when, after we landed, the blacks came up to us, wearing only a few feathers in their head and a rag tied round their middle."

Thanks to a paternal Government, the young couple got a job at Pialba at £40 per annum and found. They went to work for a Mr Sutherland, of Maryborough, who had a summer residence at Pialba. There Mr Nielsen did rough carpentering, fencing, etc. He has the warmest recollections of Mr Sutherland's kindness towards him and his wife. At Pialba the blacks were in hundreds, and corroborees were frequent. At that time there were only three houses in Pialba.

After five months Mr. Nielsen decided to go to Maryborough, then only a small town, and he got work there, first as a carpenter, and then as a joiner and cabinetmaker. Wages at this trade then ranged from 7s. 6d. to 9s. per day. "I can recall that the rent of our four roomed cottage was 10s. per week," said Mr. Nielsen. "We had to depend on the rain for our water supply. Meat was 1½d. and 2d. per lb.; if you bought a roast, the butcher threw in a large piece of suet, and occasionally several sausages. Vegetables were plentiful and cheap, and it was possible to save money."

GOES ON THE LAND

"I thought that there was better money to be made in farming than at my trade," continued Mr Nielsen, "and so, after a couple of years, having saved some money, I decided to go on the land. I took up 40 acres at Pialba. Another Dane, Christian Hansen, also took up land there about the same time. Then came Emil Jensen, followed by a large number of other Danes, until there was quite a Danish settlement. We built a church at Nikenbah, the service being in Danish. I collected most of the money for the church and contracted to erect it."

Like many others, Mr. Nielsen found that farming was not quite what he expected it was. "When I started farming, maize was 7s. 6d. per bushel. I put in maize, and when I harvested my crop it was only 1s. 3d. There were no maize pools to regulate the price In those days," added Mr. Nielsen sadly. He decided to go back to his trade in Maryborough, putting a caretaker on the country estate. Things went from bad to worse, and eventually Mr. Nielsen had to abandon the farm. "All I got for 15 months' hard work was £12," he said. Source

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