Titanic (11 page)

 

 

After a joyful reunion, William brought me to the small hotel where he had been staying for the last two days, hoping and praying that I would arrive soon. The White Star Line had insisted that I was on the survivor list, but he knew he would not believe it until he actually
saw
me.

He tucked me into bed, and brought me a ham sandwich and a cup of tea. I fell asleep before I could finish either, and did not wake up until almost noon. Once William was sure I was strong enough to travel, we went up to the railway station to get a train to Boston.

First, though, we posted Robert's letter. I could only hope that it would give his mother some small comfort.

When our train was announced, William helped me board and put his coat over me as a blanket. I had not stopped shaking since the lifeboat, although I am not sure it had anything to do with cold temperatures.

“It's a miracle that you got here, Margaret,” he said. “Everything will be all right now. I am going to rent us a bigger room, and with my salary, you can start school soon. I don't want you to have to worry ever again.”

I just nodded, and leaned against him, too tired to respond.

Now we are riding along, and I do not even have enough energy to look out of the window. I am so very tired and sad. I do not even feel like writing now – and may never again.

 

 

I think this will be my last entry. Frankly, I am not sure there is anything left to say. The room is very nice, and we can divide it with a curtain for the time being, so we each have our own little room. William looks just wonderful – taller than ever, and full of confidence. I can tell that he is very happy here, and hope that one day I will also be happy again.

This morning, after breakfast, William sat back and looked at me for a few minutes.

“Are you ready to talk about it?” he asked.

I shook my head.

“All right,” he said, and cut me another slice of bread.

We spent the rest of the morning sitting quietly and sipping tea. There was no need for conversation; simply being together again was more than enough.

“William?” I asked finally.

He looked up from across the table.

“Would you mind terribly if we got a cat?” I asked.

He studied me for a moment, and then grinned at me. “We can get two,” he said.

Tomorrow, we plan to do just that.

It may be a trifling step forward, but it is a step regardless. Part of me would like to stay with my grief forever, but that would not do justice to the sacrifices that have been made on my behalf. As long as I live, I will never forget the great courage shown by Robert and so many others. I only hope that I can live up to their fine example.

I pray they are all at peace.

 

 

Margaret Anne Brady never once discussed her voyage on the
Titanic
in public – and also rarely mentioned the disaster in private. Throughout her life, she felt that the memories of those tragically lost were best served by a respectful silence. She also never completely forgave herself for surviving the tragedy.

She
did
permit William to read her diary, and then sent it on to Sister Catherine, who later returned it for safekeeping. Margaret completed her high school education in Boston, and then accepted a scholarship to Wellesley College.

Margaret and Sister Catherine never lost touch, and on two occasions Sister Catherine was actually persuaded to visit Margaret in the States. The only time Margaret ever returned to England was for her beloved mentor's funeral in 1962.

Margaret also kept up a regular correspondence with Nora, who later emigrated to the United States with her new husband when she was nineteen. They had a joyous reunion, and Nora ended up settling in nearby Pawtucket, Rhode Island.

After their parting in New York, Margaret and Mrs Carstairs exchanged letters a couple of times, but never saw each other again.

When the Americans entered the First World War, William immediately volunteered to fight for his new country. He served valiantly until he was seriously wounded during a trench battle.

Margaret dropped out of college in order to devote her time to nursing him back to health and working to support them both. Although William ultimately recovered and got a job with the Boston Police Department, Margaret never returned to college. She did, however, continue reading voraciously.

In 1923 Margaret met a young history teacher named Stanley Ryan at a bookshop in Cambridge. They were married the following June, and spent the next 44 years laughing and arguing together. They had three children: Dorothy, Harriet and . . . Robert. Margaret devoted many long hours to volunteer work, helping disadvantaged youngsters in the Boston area, and she later ended up running a halfway house for unmarried mothers until her retirement in 1965.

During her life, Margaret occasionally boarded planes, and regularly took trains – but she refused to set foot on another boat ever again. Despite her many decades in America, she never lost her British accent, but to her surprise, she became extremely fond of coffee.

She died peacefully in her sleep in 1994, at the age of 95.

 

 

It has now been a hundred years since the
Titanic
met her fate in the darkest depths of the North Atlantic. Although no survivors remain alive to tell the tale, the doomed liner is still a source of endless fascination and speculation for people all over the world. The
Titanic
is no less captivating in 2012 than when she was the largest ship that had ever been built, and such a technological marvel that even a conservative shipbuilder's magazine raved that she was “practically unsinkable”.

In the years before the First World War, public confidence in England and America was at an all-time high. The era was dubbed the Edwardian Age after King Edward VII. A general air of complacent confidence prevailed. The
Titanic,
with her glittering passenger list, seemed like the ultimate example of human achievement in this optimistic time.

In 1912, the rich and famous were famous primarily
because
they were rich. Society events were reported in great detail in newspapers and magazines. Ordinary citizens enjoyed living vicariously through these reports.

There was also a very strong class system in effect. Upper-, middle- and lower-class people rarely came into contact with one another, and would never have interacted socially. Lower- (or working-) class people “knew their place”, and thought nothing of being ignored by those they considered to be their “betters”. By the same token, members of the upper class looked down upon anyone who was not at their level financially and socially. The upper class was also expected to “set a good example” for others, and this concept of “noblesse oblige” was generally accepted by everyone. Actually, the vast majority of people probably existed somewhere in the middle, but the two extremes got the most attention. These rigid notions of class were much stronger in England than they were in America, but they existed there too.

Throughout the early 1900s, technology and industry were booming. The international shipping business was a particularly competitive field. Speed and comfort were the two most important concerns for any passenger liner. Voyages that had once taken months could now, because of powerful steam engines, be completed in less than a week. As a result, a number of companies were vying to dominate the business. The two best known were the Cunard Line and the White Star Line, which was run by International Mercantile Marine (IMM).

In 1907, Cunard was probably the most successful, with their impressive new ships, the
Lusitania
and the
Mauretania.
J Bruce Ismay and William James Pirrie, two top IMM executives, decided to meet that challenge by building the three biggest ships in the entire world. They would be called the
Olympic,
the
Titanic,
and the
Gigantic.
The Harland and Wolff shipyard in Belfast, Ireland, was commissioned to do the job. The
Olympic
was launched, to great fanfare, in 1911, and the
Titanic
was to sail on her maiden voyage a year later.

The plan was for the new White Star ships to offer weekly passages from Southampton, England, to New York City. They would be fast, they would be dependable, and they would offer remarkably pleasant sailing experiences.

The Titanic was just over 290 metres (882 feet) long and 30 metres (92.5 feet) wide. This length translates to a third of a kilometre or about a sixth of a mile! She stood well over 30 metres (100 feet) tall, which is the equivalent of 11 storeys in a building. She had nine decks, three propellers, and weighed more than 45,000 tonnes. The decks ranged from the Boat Deck all the way down to the boiler rooms in the bowels of the ship. She was equipped with a total of 20 lifeboats, which exceeded the admittedly minimal standards of the day. Most impressively, the ship had been designed to have 16 watertight compartments in its hull, all of which could be closed individually with the mere flip of a switch. This made the ship unusually safe.

She had a number of features never before seen on an ocean liner, including a swimming pool, Turkish baths, a squash court, a gymnasium and several restaurants. The ship even had lifts! Second-class accommodation was equivalent to first class on other ships, and the conditions in third class (also known as steerage) were unusually pleasant.

As a Royal Mail Steamer (RMS), the
Titanic
obviously carried countless sacks of letters and postcards. Some of her other cargo and provisions included 40 tonnes of potatoes, 34,000 kilograms (75,000 pounds) of fresh meat, 2,700 litres (600 gallons) of condensed milk, 15,000 bottles of beer, five grand pianos, a marmalade machine, and 12 cases of ostrich feathers.

The
Titanic
also had a crew of approximately 900 (though many of these numbers have never been accurately established). The crew was broken down into three categories: the Deck Crew, the Engineering Crew, and the Victualling Crew. These various workers included the Purser, the Marconi wireless radio operators, the saloon and bedroom stewards, postal workers, cooks, bakers, firemen, engineers, stewardesses, and, of course, the eight members of the band.

The passenger list included many famous celebrities, including one of the richest men in the world, John Jacob Astor, and his second wife. Other well-known passengers were J Bruce Ismay, the Managing Director of the White Star Line; Thomas Andrews of Harland and Wolff, who had designed the ship; Mrs JJ Brown, known as “the Unsinkable Molly Brown”; Isidor Straus, who had founded the famous Macy's department store in New York, and his wife; and Major Archibald Butt, who was the US President's top military aide.

Of the estimated 1,320 passengers, many, of course, were not famous at all. While the first class was mainly comprised of socialites, along with their maids and valets, the second – and third-class passengers were more conventional. Second-class passengers were predominantly successful professionals, including teachers, middle-class families and businessmen. The third-class passengers tended to be immigrants on their way to America to make new lives for themselves. Many of them were Irish or Italian, but other nationalities were represented too.

At noon on April 10, 1912, the
Titanic
prepared to cast off under the command of Captain Edward J Smith. Captain Smith was the most popular of all White Star Line officers, and was commonly known as “EJ”. After completing the maiden voyage of the
Titanic,
Captain Smith was planning to retire.

A near accident marred the beginning of the
Titanic
's journey. While being towed away from her Southampton berth by tugboats, the
Titanic
nearly collided with a smaller ship, the
New York.
A quick turn by Captain Smith, along with swift intervention by the tugboat
Vulcan,
prevented a dangerous crash.

Despite this mishap, it was a happy leave-taking, and thousands of people had gathered on the quay to see the ship off. That evening, the ship arrived in Cherbourg, France, to pick up more passengers. Then the
Titanic
steamed towards Queenstown, Ireland, scheduled as its final stop before going to New York City. There were now an estimated 2,200 passengers and crew members aboard.

On Thursday, April 11 the
Titanic
finally headed out to the open sea. The weather was beautiful, if cold, and the early days of the voyage were uneventful. The atmosphere aboard the ship was cheerful and at ease. Passengers spent most of their time eating fantastic meals, relaxing, and exploring the ship.

Then disaster struck on the night of April 14, 1912. The seas were remarkably calm, but before retiring for the night, Captain Smith instructed First Officer Murdoch to watch out for ice and “alert him” right away if anything happened.

At 11.40 p.m., Lookout Frederick Fleet saw a huge iceberg loom up out of nowhere. He instantly alerted the officers on the bridge. With barely 30 seconds to make a decision, Officer Murdoch ordered “hard a-starboard!” and tried to steer out of the way, but the starboard side of the
Titanic
scraped violently against the iceberg. Metal tore, rivets popped, and water began rushing through the hull of the ship. It had been a glancing, but ultimately fatal, blow.

Captain Smith instantly came to the bridge and summoned ship designer Thomas Andrews to go below and inspect the damage with him. Andrews came to the quick – and tragic – realization that the
Titanic
would sink within the next hour or two.

In the meantime, most of the passengers and crew were unaware of the seriousness of the situation. Many passengers noticed a slight “bump” or “jarring” or “scraping”, and some were even awakened from a sound sleep. But since they assumed the
Titanic
was unsinkable, almost no one was terribly concerned.

Around midnight, Captain Smith gave orders to uncover the lifeboats and load the women and children first. There were over 2,200 people aboard, and at full occupancy the lifeboats could carry only 1,178. Captain Smith and his fellow crew members tried very hard to keep this information from the passengers, to prevent panic. In order to keep up morale, the band, led by Wallace Hartley, began to play. With total disregard for their own safety, they continued to play on the Boat Deck until the very end.

Wireless operators Phillips and Bride were busy sending out “CQD” and “SOS” distress signals. Many ships responded, although most of them were too far away to be able to help. The
Carpathia,
about 58 miles away, immediately began rushing to the rescue, but it would take her several hours to arrive. Perhaps the most controversial aspect of the disaster concerns a nearby ship, the
Californian.
She may have been as close as four or five miles away, although the exact distance has never been established. Her radio operator had gone to bed, so she never got the distress calls – nor did she respond to the distress rockets the
Titanic
began shooting into the sky.

Throughout the night, the
Titanic
's passengers and crew members were – with very few exceptions – remarkably brave in the face of danger. Men routinely stepped back and gave up their lives in order to save women and children. In some cases, wives stayed behind with their husbands in a courageous example of the “till death do us part” marriage promise. There are many wild legends of officers firing guns to keep frantic passengers at bay, and men dressing as women in order to sneak on to boats but there is really no way of knowing exactly what occurred. White Star Managing Director Bruce Ismay took a place in one of the last available boats, and was condemned as a coward for the rest of his life.

Once the last lifeboats were gone, there were still about 1,500 people aboard the
Titanic
– almost all of whom were now doomed. The bow was completely underwater, and the ship was sinking rapidly. Captain Smith told his crew that they had performed nobly, and that it was “every man for himself”. He was never seen again. During all of this, the band kept playing. Their selfless devotion to duty is one of the most inspiring stories to come out of the tragedy.

At about 2.15 a.m., the ship snapped in two and the bow slipped under water. Slowly, the stern of the ship began to rise up into the air. The front funnel broke off and slammed into the water, crushing a number of people who were trying to swim away. The stern stood up in the air until it was almost exactly perpendicular, and then it, too, disappeared beneath the water's surface.

Even though many of the lifeboats had room for more people,
only one
made a point of going back to pick up survivors. That boat found only four people left alive, one of whom died later.

At about 4.30 a.m., the
Carpathia
steamed up, after a risky journey through dangerous fields of ice. Her commander, Captain Rostron, demonstrated astonishing seamanship and grace under pressure. The survivors were brought onboard, and the
Carpathia
set sail for New York City. Just over 700 people survived, while more than 1,500 perished.

A whole century later, the night the
Titanic
sank is remembered as one of darkness and courage, nobility and despair. For the most part, the very best of humanity was on display – with the very worst of results. It is a night that will never be forgotten.