Ruth Becker
Name: Miss Ruth Elizabeth Becker
Marion Louise Becker
Richard F. Becker
Born 28th October 1899
28th December 1907
26th June 1910
Age: 12 years
4 years
1 years
Last Residence: in Guntur India
2nd Class passenger
First Embarked: Southampton on Wednesday 10th April 1912
Ticket No. 230136 , £39
Cabin No.: F4
Destination: Benton Harbor Michigan United States
Rescued (boat 13)
(boat 11)
(boat 11)
Disembarked Carpathia: New York City on Thursday 18th April 1912
Died: 6th July 1990
15th February 1944
6th September
1975
Cause of Death: Malnutrition `
Tuberculosis
Kidney Disease
Buried: at Sea
Princeton NJ
Peoria, IL
The Story of Ruth Becker: Titanic Survivor
Ruth Elizabeth Becker, known later as Ruth Becker Blanchard, was one of the youngest passengers on the Titanic at
12 years old
The daughter of a Lutheran missionary, Ruth was born in Guntur, India in 1899. When her brother took ill, her mother
Nellie decided to take him and the rest of the family to Benton Harbor, Michigan for medical treatment. Ruth, her
mother, and her younger brother and sister boarded the RMS Titanic as second-class passengers, with her father
waiting behind in India to rejoin them later.
Ruth and her family marveled at the beauty and grandeur of the ship, but their trip took a nasty turn when
disaster struck. More specifically, the Titanic struck an iceberg and began sinking rapidly.
Ruth’s mother managed to get into Lifeboat No. 11 with her two youngest children, but there was no room left for
Ruth. Nellie sobbed as she was separated from her daughter, who ended up in Lifeboat No. 13.
As Ruth’s lifeboat was lowered into the water, it was very nearly crushed by Lifeboat No. 15, which was being
lowered too quickly. A crew member managed to cut the ropes binding No. 13 to the ship at the last minute, and the
boat slid away in the nick of time.
The air was filled with the chilling sound of screams from those stranded in the icy water. A young Polish woman in
Ruth’s lifeboat lamented her missing baby, who had been separated from her much like Ruth had been separated from
her family. Though she didn’t understand German, Ruth did her best to comfort the upset mother.
Finally, the lifeboat was rescued by the Carpathia. After several tense hours of waiting and dreading the worst, Ruth
was overjoyed to see her mother and siblings alive and well. She was also happy to discover that the Polish woman
from her lifeboat had been reunited with her baby.
Ruth refused to talk about the traumatic Titanic sinking incident for many years. Later, she began to talk more about it,
and made appearances at Titanic Historical Society conventions along with other Titanic survivors.
In 1990, Ruth Becker Blanchard took a cruise to Mexico, her first time as a passenger on a ship since the Titanic
disaster. She died later that year at the age of 90, and her ashes were scattered at sea, directly over the Titanic wreck.
Ruth Becker: Child, Survivor, and Heroine
Ruth Becker was no ordinary 12-year old girl. Independent, sensible, and mature beyond her years, she could be
trusted with burdens few adults could bear. On no night was this more clear than that of April 15th, 1912, when in the
face of danger she selflessly gave of herself to calm and comfort those around her. Read on to discover the story of this
young heroine, my favorite Titanic survivor.
Ruth Elizabeth Becker was born on October 28th 1899. She had lived with her mother, Nellie, and younger siblings
Marion and Richard in Guntur, India, where her father Reverend Allen Oliver Becker worked as a missionary. While
Ruth didn't mind the high temperatures and exotic landscape, her mother hated the heat, the snakes and the lizards,
suffering a nervous collapse more than once (the worst occasion being when she witnessed a native being cremated
outside their house!) To add to Nellie's distress, her son Luther died of sickness in 1907, at the age of only two. So in
early 1912 when the doctor announced young Richard had contracted a similar illness to the one that took Luther's life
five years earlier, Nellie did not hesitate to relocate the family to Michigan, where medical conditions were much
better. Ruth's father was also in poor health, but did not have permission to leave his post.
Nellie, 36, Ruth, 12, Marion, 4, and Richard, 1, departed from India on the steamer City of Benares which took them
on a month-long voyage to London, England. This upper-class, civilized city appealed to Nellie, who had spent years
living in the jungles of India, and she made it her priority to show the children all over. The London Zoo, a wax
museum, and St. Paul's Cathedral were only a few of the stops the family visited before heading to Southampton,
England for the highlight of their voyage - boarding the RMS Titanic.
The brand-new steamer, boasted to be 'virtually unsinkable,' was the largest and most luxurious of its time.
Although only on its first voyage, the ship was all the rage among both rich and poor. The Beckers, in second
class, certainly appreciated the opulence of their quarters - the Titanic boasted an elevator, dining saloon,
library and men's smoking room for the middle class. Ruth, sick of ocean travel (she had been aboard the City
of Benares for a month!) was nevertheless impressed by the pristine cleanness of the new ship, the snowy-white
china plates untouched by grime or food stains, and the beds never before slept in. She recalls,
"To pass the time away, I would wheel my little brother up and down the deck. I would look in the dining room and
it was the most beautiful sight I ever saw. You see, it was new, absolutely new. I just stood there and marveled, how
beautiful everything was ... our cabin was on the port side toward the stern and very close to the waterline. I could
look through the porthole and see the ocean. The water would be almost up to my eyes."
However, life on the Titanic was not all comfort and relaxation. Ruth's mother, Nellie, was extremely nervous about
the ship's seaworthiness, as it had never made an ocean crossing before. To add to her distress, the passengers had
witnessed a near-accident when the great ship had set off at Southampton. The suction caused by the monstrous
Titanic as it sailed out of the harbor drew another ship, the New York, towards it. The two ships would have collided
had several tugboats not intervened swiftly, preventing damage. However, the near-miss confirmed some passenger's
doubts about the so-called 'unsinkable' ship. Ruth remembers her mother's anxiety:
"My mother had to see the purser, and she said, "You know why I am not one bit happy about going on this ship to
New York City?" And he said, "Why?" And she said, "Because this is the first trip it's ever made ... and I'm, just a
little nervous about it." And he said, "Ma'am, you know that the Titanic has watertight compartments and that if
anything does happen these watertight compartments will keep the ship up until they get help."
On that fateful night of April 14th, 1912, Ruth and her mother were awakened just after midnight by the sudden, eerie
silence following the ceasing of the engines. The hallway outside was in turmoil as passengers hurried
from their cabins, struggling to keep families together in the throng. Ruth recalled,
"There was so much noise upstairs - they were running - running upstairs and in the halls - and yelling and all that.
The first cabin steward we saw said, "No, there's nothing wrong at all - there's just been a little accident and they're
going to fix it and we'll be going on in a few minutes."
Mislead by the steward's calming words, the two returned to bed, but their tension became fresh alarm as the engines
failed to start again. Another inquiry of a steward revealed the true danger. Ruth and Nellie began to dress the younger
children but did not bother to get changed themselves, merely throwing coats on over their nightgowns. In their hurry
they also neglected to put on lifebelts.
"We had to climb five flights of stairs to a room full of women. They were all weeping - in states of dress and undress.
Everyone was frightened - no one knew what would happen to them. But I was never scared. I was only excited. I never
for one minute thought we would die.
Two officers came in and they said, 'Well, it's time to get into the lifeboats now.' So one officer took my brother and the
other took my sister, carried them, and my mother and I climbed an iron ladder to the top deck to get into the
lifeboats."
Shivering in the cold of the crowded boat deck, Nellie asked responsible Ruth to hurry back to the cabin for some
blankets. Without hesitation the obedient, sensible girl responded to her mother's words. However, by the time she
returned,
"the officers had put by little brother and sister in (boat number 11), they said, 'That's all for this boat.' And my mother
just yelled, screamed, she said, 'Please let me in that boat! Those are my children!' and so they did, they let her in the
boat. Well, I was left on the Titanic ..."
At this point in Ruth's story, she is facing a horror more terrible than any child should ever have to suffer through the terror of being abandoned by family and surrounded by panicked strangers as an icy death creeps ever closer. In
some versions of Ruth's story, she is allowed into lifeboat 11 with her mother but heroically sacrifices her seat when
the officers cry the boat is too full. However the separation from her mother took place, there is no doubt that Ruth
faced the prospect of death with a saint like calmness and maturity, and that her own courage led her to a spot in
lifeboat 13 - among the last lifeboats lowered from the flooding bow of the ship.
As Ruth glanced up at the bright decks of the Titanic, crowded with the pale, frightened faces of those who knew
they could not be rescued, a huge, dark shadow obscured her vision. As the black shape descended closer, the alarmed
passengers realized what it was. Lifeboat 15 was being lowered too quickly and was sure to crush Lifeboat 13 beneath
it, dooming its passengers to an icy death! Panic-stricken cries of the occupants filled the cold night air, hoarse and
twisted with fear. Unaware of the perilous position of the lifeboat beneath, oblivious seamen continued to lower boat
15. The great black hull loomed closer ... closer ... closer - by now Ruth, forced to stand up due to lack of room, could
touch it, in a vain attempt to push it away. At the last moment, a crew member, pocketknife in hand, sliced the ropes
attaching Lifeboat 13 to the deck. It sailed away safely over the calm black water, with boat 15 following in its wake.
"We rowed away from the Titanic as fast as we could, and there were five or six decks and they were just lined with
people - standing there at the edge looking over. I suppose they were wishing and hoping someone would come and
rescue them. When we were about a mile away the boat was just beautiful, it was a very dark, black night and the
ocean was very calm. It was just like a mill pond, just like we were going out for a ride on the pond.
It (the Titanic) was going down very slowly, not fast at all and the night was dark, no moon, a very dark, black night
and that boat was just beautiful, all the lights were on. But it was going down quietly and the lights were just going
under the water. I remember that very plainly - I thought it was a beautiful night and a terrible sight because you could
see that the boat was going under the water ....
There fell upon the ear the most terrible noise that human beings ever listened to - the cries of hundreds of people
struggling in the icy cold water, crying for help with a cry we knew could not be answered. That was a terrible, terrible
time, I can still hear them."
However, it was in this 'terrible, terrible time' that Ruth's true generosity, courage and devotion to others would
shine through. In the dark of night, surrounded by miles upon miles of glassy black ocean with not a comforting hand
around, Ruth forgot about feeling sorry for herself and instead helped care for others - a feat not easily accomplished
by most children in distress. The bundle of blankets she had brought from the cabin on her mother's request were soon
distributed among the freezing passengers by the selfless young girl, who did not keep one for herself. Soon, the
blankets were being ripped in half and shared by all.
During the struggle of escaping the sinking ship, a crewmember seated near Ruth had somehow torn his finger badly.
It now hung on only by a strip of flesh. Again showing her selfless devotion to others, Ruth was determined to help the
poor man. Within her pocket she found the precious handkerchief that her beloved father had given to her before they
left India. Without hesitation she wrapped it like a bandage around the bloody, mangled mess that was the stoker's
finger.
Perhaps Ruth's greatest act of kindness was her commitment to a young Polish woman, Leah Aks, who sat sobbing
beside her in the lifeboat. Rather than wallow in her own sorrow and discomfort, which must have been great due to
cold and fear, Ruth spent her time trying to comfort this poor woman. At first, Ruth could not understand what 18-year
old Leah was sobbing, but with a man's help realized that she was speaking German.
Amelia Mary "Mildred" Brown
Name: Miss Amelia Mary "Mildred" Brown
Born: Friday 18th August 1893
Age: 18 years 7 months and 28 days.
Marital Status: Single.
Last Residence: at 152 Abbey Road London London England
Occupation: Cook (Personal)
2nd Class passenger
First Embarked: Southampton on Wednesday 10th April 1912
Ticket No. 248733 , £13 Cabin No.: F33
Rescued (boat 11)
Disembarked Carpathia: New York City on Thursday 18th April 1912
Died: Wednesday 30th June 1976
Miss Amelia (Mildred) Brown was cook to Hudson Allison and family and travelled second class as did their
chauffeur George Swane. During the voyage she shared a room (F-33) with Selena Rogers Cook, Elizabeth Nye and
Amelia Lemore. On the night of April 14th Mildred was very reluctant to get up even when Swane and her room mates
encouraged warned her of the danger. Only when Miss Rogers exclaimed that she was surely the only person on the
entire ship to remain in bed, did she stir.
Mildred was rescued in lifeboat 11 and wrote to her mother from the Carpathia. The letter is postmarked Grand
Central Station, New York, 10 a.m., April 19th 1912
My dear Mother
At last I have made myself sit down to write. I don't know how the time has gone since the wreck But I can't help
thinking how lucky I was to be amongst the rescued. There were 2000 people about that on board and only about 700
were rescued. If happened at 11.30 Sunday night. Our boat ran into an iceberg and within 1 1/2 hours the vessel had
sunk I couldn't believe that it was serious and would not get up until Swain [sic] came and made me that was the last /
saw of him poor fellow. No sooner was I on deck that I was bustled to the first class deck and pushed into one of the
boats and I found nurse (Alice Cleaver) and the baby (Trevor Allison) were there. It was awful to put the lifebelt on it,
seemed as if you really were gone.
Then came the lowering of the boats I shut my eyes in hopes I should wake up and find it a dream. Then came the
awful suspense of waiting till a vessel happened to pass our way. The wireless telegraphy had beeb used and this
vessel that was southward bound came miles out of its way to pick us up. By the time we had got out of reach of the
suction we stopped to watch her go down and you could watch her go too. It went in the front until it was standing like
this then all the lights went out. Shortly after we heard the engines explode and then the cries of the people for help.
Never shall I forget it as long as I live. I don't let myself think of it. We were on the water from 12 till 6 in this small
boat. Thank goodness it was a calm clear night or I don't know what would have happened. We were nearly frozen as
there were Icebergs all round us.
Ever since I have been on here I have felt in a stupor. Everything seems too much trouble and I don't care what happens
to me. I found Sallie (Sarah Daniels) had got on alright but poor girl she keeps worrying about her things, of course we
have lost everything bar what we stand up in. I had my watch on my arm in fact it hasn't left it since we sailed and my
money was in my pocket. I have not seen Mr and Mrs Allison. I suppose they have gone under but there is just the
hopes that they may have been picked up by another- boat but still I am not going to worry about that as they have
several friends on board and then there are the partners of the firm. We have been offered a home until they can find us
a place suitable. This vessel has turned back to New York with us. I have slept on the Dining Room floor both nights.
We had a most awful thunderstorm last night and today it's that foggy. I shall be glad to be on terra firma again. We
had a bad start. The New York broke adrift and ran into us at Southampton Harbour.
Well I won't write any more now. Will you let Neil read this and Aunt Em or anyone that you think as I don't feel like
going all over it again. Don't worry about me as I shall be well looked after and I have made several well-to-do-friends.
Lots of love to all, From your ever loving daughter Millie
Edith Brown
Name: Miss Edith Eileen Brown
Born: Tuesday 27th October 1896
Age: 15 years
Last Residence: in Cape Town South Africa
Occupation: Scholar
2nd Class passenger
First Embarked: Southampton on Wednesday 10th April 1912
Ticket No. 29750 , £39
Destination: Seattle Washington United States
Rescued (boat 14)
Disembarked Carpathia: New York City on Thursday 18th April 1912
Died: Monday 20th January 1997
Cause of Death: Pneumonia
The Browns Prepare to Abandon Ship
by David Haisman
(Adapted from David Haisman's story about his mother's experiences on the Titanic.)
Her father stood in the doorway of their cabin and said, ''There's talk that the ship has hit an iceberg.'' It was those
fateful words that were to change their lives forever.
Edith, along with her mother Elizabeth, were sharing a Second Class cabin onboard the Titanic. Her father,
Thomas W.S. Brown, was sharing another Second Class cabin further along the passageway.
It was almost midnight on Sunday, 14th of April 1912 when Thomas still in evening dress, made this announcement to
his wife and daughter. Just 15 minutes previous to this, both women had been woken up by what only could be
described as a shudder and several soft bumps. At that precise moment, Edith occupying the upper berth,
switched on her bunk light, parted the surrounding curtains, and peered down at her mother lying on the bunk
below.
Elizabeth had also heard the noises and, on turning on her own bunk light, stared up at her daughter in total
bewilderment. Edith quickly threw back her bed covers, swung her feet out and on turning, descended step by step
down the little varnished bunk ladder to the cabin floor. Crossing the cabin to the porthole, she pulled the neat little
curtains apart, opened the port glass and stared out into the blackness. At first, she could see nothing until her eyes
became accustomed to the darkness and then gradually, she began to make out the ships lights reflecting on the
black water far down below. The sea was flat calm with no wind and looking up, she could see a mass of stars in
the night sky. Looking down again towards the stern of the ship she could see great swirls of foam and
turbulence as the ships propellers churned up the water, apparently, going full astern. This in turn caused a
great deal of vibration around the cabin with the clinking of glasses in the wash stand, creaking and squeaking
of wood paneling about the room and door handles rattling.
Edith drew her head back in from the porthole to enable her mother to see for herself that the ship was stopping.
Elizabeth looked down at the water for a brief moment and then, drawing her head back in, crossed the cabin back to
her berth. Sitting on the edge of her bunk with a worried look on her face, she said to Edith in a somewhat shaky voice,
''I wonder what this is all about then?''
The excessive vibration experienced just a few moments ago, had now stopped as Elizabeth, sitting on the edge of her
bunk, now rose to cross the cabin floor to turn on the main overhead cabin light. The only sound now audible was the
distant whine of an electric motor from somewhere far inside of the ship. The night air from the open porthole made
the cabin feel colder and Elizabeth, sitting down again on the edge of her bunk, said to Edith, ''Pass me my dressing
gown from the wardrobe please dear.'' After passing her mother's dressing gown to her, Edith crossed again to the
porthole to see if anything else was happening. Once again, after her eyes had become accustomed to the darkness, she
could see that all was quiet, the turbulence had ceased and the ship was now motionless on a flat calm sea.
On closing the porthole, Edith crossed the cabin to sit alongside of her mother on the lower berth saying to her mother,
'' Everything seems so quiet.'' It was shortly after this that Thomas had tapped the door and informed them about the
iceberg. He had advised them to put on warm clothing and life jackets and to follow him back up on deck. Elizabeth
looked at her husband in utter disbelief at such a suggestion. Thomas on the other hand was not to be deterred and on
entering the room, reached up to the top of the wardrobe and pulled down two lifejackets. Elizabeth was an extremely
nervous person by nature and this action by her husband wasn't helping matters any. Edith at 15 years of age was not
too worried at this stage and obediently did as she was told, knowing her father never made any rash decisions.
Both women proceeded to put on their long grey serge topcoats before Thomas began to help them on with their life
jackets. Elizabeth remained speechless as her husband busied himself about her, adjusting the bulky life jacket and
finally tying the tapes in front with a large bow. The life jackets were made up with cumbersome hard square chunks of
cork, held together by stitched duck canvas and when placed over the head, hung from the shoulders and tied at the
waste. With these on over their heavy clothing, both women looked and felt twice their size, causing Edith to giggle
for a moment, forgetting the seriousness of the situation briefly.
Before leaving their cabin to go up on the boat deck Edith said to her father, ''Why aren't you wearing your life jacket
father?'' to which he replied, ''Don't let that worry you for the moment my dear. Let's get you and your mother
organized first and then I can get myself sorted out later.'' Edith thought how typical of him. Always putting us first at
all times.
Making their way out of their cabin, they proceeded along the plush carpeted passageway to the first flight of stairs,
which would take them up to the Second Class Promenade Deck. At this time there were just a few passengers moving
about the passageways and stairs, some in evening dress, others with coats over night attire, and some with life jackets
on. There was a bedroom steward with a tray of dirty cups and saucers balancing on the palm of one hand, tapping
cabin doors with the knuckles of his other hand calling out, ''Everyone up with life jackets on please!'' He continued
with this until arriving at the night pantry at the far end of the passageway. There was little response, the whole scene
quite relaxed with the odd quip about having a good nights sleep being disturbed and others, not even bothering to
answer the stewards call.
They continued up the stairs with their carved banisters and beautiful wood paneling on the walls, passing other
passengers returning to their cabins, remarking that it was too cold to remain on deck for any length of time. They
arrived at the top of the final flight of stairs and stepped out onto the boat deck into the cold night air, joining a group
of people already gathered around lifeboat no.14. Thomas had noticed whilst in their cabin the small notice behind the
door saying that occupants of that cabin would assemble at lifeboat station no. 14. during any emergency.
Below their position on the boat deck, they could hear lively music being played by the ship's orchestra, with Elizabeth
remarking to her husband nervously, ''Some people don't seem too worried about this situation Tom.'' His reply was, ''
It's better to be prepared in case things get out of hand and we may have to get into those boats.'' Other people stood
around engaging in light-hearted conversation as they watched some seamen take the covers off of the boats and
prepare them for lowering down to the water.
Edith was feeling tired after being woken from a deep sleep and between yawns began to think about her comfortable
bunk and said to Thomas, ''When do you think we'll be able to go back to bed father?'' ''Soon dear. Soon.'' he replied.
Her mother however was far from tired and was showing some considerable concern as the crew continued working at
clearing away the boats. Her father, fully realizing her mother's fears at the way things were developing, did his best to
calm her down by saying that he didn't think it would be too long before he would be taking them below again and
tucking them in for the night, once the emergency had been called off.
There was considerable talk about ice being thrown about by some of the steerage passengers on the forward Well
Deck. There was also mention that some Third Class passengers at the forward end were leaving the Well Deck area
carrying their suitcases and belongings. Up to this point in time, there had been no official indication that anything was
wrong, other than some stewards directing passengers to go up on deck with their life jackets on. There had been no
alarm bells, hooters or announcements from ship's officers that there was a problem, hence the relaxed attitude of the
passengers.
Edith and her parents continued to wait patiently, watching and listening to the goings on around them as more people
continued to arrive on the boat deck. Many were still in evening dress and apparently in good spirits, attempting a
witty remark now and then as the ship's orchestra continued to play lively music from the deck below. Amongst the
chatter there was wild speculation as to what had actually happened with rumors that the ship would need to undergo
urgent repairs whilst others spoke about the emergency being over reacted and would soon be called off. Apart from
all of this, passengers and crew alike were behaving in an orderly fashion although the look on Thomas's face revealed
that he wasn't too happy at the way things were developing.
The night appeared to be very still now with the ship stopped, but very cold with several passengers returning to their
cabins to put on extra clothing and some, unbelievably, returning to go back to bed. This was not to last however as
ship's stewards, stewardesses and all other crew members were given strict orders that all cabins would have to be
evacuated immediately and told to proceed to the boat deck with life jackets on.
The crew were performing their duties in an orderly professional manner, treating all classes firmly and politely.
Elizabeth was becoming increasingly distressed as more boats were being prepared for lowering and, once at deck
level, people ordered into them with greater urgency. Thomas was doing his best to calm her down by saying, ''Don't
upset yourself my dear. I shall probably get into another boat once all the women and children are sorted out first. '' He
knew this didn't sound very convincing but what else could he say at a time like this? Edith held tightly onto her
father's arm with both of her arms, stamping first one foot and then the other in order to maintain some circulation
around her feet. She began to think about how fortunate she had been by bringing her Wordsworth Birthday Book with
her as she would never leave that behind whatever the circumstances. She remembered leaving behind in it's place, her
gold and coral necklace that her father had recently bought for her in London and would certainly bring that along with
her if ever going back to the cabin for any reason.
Lifeboat No. 14, being their designated boat, had Fifth Officer Lowe in command. He was a Welshman in his late
twenties and well known as a bit of a disciplinarian, ordering people into the boat in no uncertain terms. His voice had
authority and could be heard on more than one occasion, shouting at the crew to, ''Get a bloody move on!''
More and more people were beginning to arrive on the boat deck from the decks below as Elizabeth said to Thomas in
a faltering voice, '' How on earth do they expect to get this lot into those tiny boats.?'' Her husband could see her point
but dared not say anything other than, '' It's quite amazing just what those boats will hold.''
At this time the Reverend Carter rejoined the ''Browns'' at lifeboat No.14, after taking his wife, Lillian, to her
respective lifeboat. The Carters had been their dining companions since leaving Southampton and they had all become
good friends during the voyage but now, Earnest Carter would remain with Thomas until the end. Edith had always
remembered this turn of events regarding Lillian Carter, throughout her lifetime, as there were questions that just
didn't add up. If she had gotten into a lifeboat, then how come she was listed as drowned? Or perhaps she had decided
to leave her boat before lowering to rejoin her husband the Reverend Carter in order to be with him until the very end?
The Titanic will no doubt keep some of these secrets forever.
As more people assembled around the boats there was an instant almighty deafening roar high above their heads as
super heated steam exploded out of one of the waste pipes at the top of one of the funnels. This caused screams and
shouts with people ducking almost as one, thinking for an instant that the ship would blow up beneath them.
The deafening roar of steam that had to be vented off due to the enormous build up of pressure from the boilers was
now blocking out all other sounds as the crew and officers continued to shout through cupped hands and wave their
arms around in their efforts to be understood. After some twenty minutes or so, the noise had abated somewhat to just
a loud hiss and the ship's orchestra could be heard once again, this time playing on the boat deck.
''Look father! There's a light over there.'' Thomas followed his daughters outstretched arm to a light twinkling on the
horizon. '' Yes my dear !'' he replied quickly. '' I do believe you're right !'' With that the Rev. Carter also agreed that
there was indeed a light on the horizon. Edith then said excitedly, '' Do you think they will come to help us father?''
''Yes'' replied Thomas. ''I certainly hope so.''
The time had now come for Edith and Elizabeth to get into lifeboat 14 and Edith was dreading the thought of leaving
her father on the boat deck and how it would effect her mother.
''Look father! There's a light over there.'' Thomas followed his daughters outstretched arm to a light twinkling on the
horizon. '' Yes my dear !'' he replied quickly. '' I do believe you're right !'' With that the Rev. Carter also agreed that
there was indeed a light on the horizon. Edith then said excitedly, '' Do you think they will come to help us father?''
''Yes'' replied Thomas. ''I certainly hope so.''
The time had now come for Edith and Elizabeth to get into lifeboat 14 and Edith was dreading the thought of leaving
her father on the boat deck and how it would effect her mother.
Alden Caldwell
Name: Master Alden Gates Caldwell
Born: Saturday 10th June 1911
Age: 10 months and 5 days.
Last Residence: in Bangkok Siam
2nd Class passenger
First Embarked: Southampton on Wednesday 10th April 1912
Ticket No. 248738 , £29
Destination: Roseville United States
Rescued (boat 13)
Disembarked Carpathia: New York City on Thursday 18th April 1912
Died: Friday 18th December 1992
Albert, his wife Sylvia, and their 10-month-old son Alden were passengers on the Titanic, which sank in the North
Atlantic in the early hours of April 15, 1912. The Caldwells were in the fortunate minority of about 700 passengers and
crewmen who lived to tell the tale. In the 1920s, the family moved to Blooming-ton, becoming the area's only known
survivors of the most infamous maritime disaster of all time.
Albert and Sylvia met at Park College in Missouri. They married in 1909, months after graduation, and served as
Presbyterian missionaries in Thailand (then called Siam).
With the birth of their first child Alden, they decided to return to America. On the long journey home, they passed
through Naples, Italy, where they learned that the Titanic would soon be steaming across the Atlantic on its inaugural
voyage. Incidentally, while in Naples, the Caldwells saw the Cunard Line's Carpathia preparing to leave for New
York.
Upon reaching London, the Caldwells found the Titanic booked full, but they were told to wait at the White Star Line's
office in the event of cancellations. Their patience paid off, and they were able to board the liner in Southampton as
second-class passengers.
Albert returned to the White Star Line office the next day prepared to take a first- or third-class ticket, though he really
wanted one from the second class. Before the day was done, Albert walked out with just what he wanted, second-class
tickets for the Titanic.
“Sylvia was one person that didn’t think [the Titanic] was unsinkable ... she asked the deckhand when he was loading
the baggage, ‘Is this ship really unsinkable?’ and he answered the very famous and mortally erroneous reply, ‘Yes,
lady, God himself could not sink this ship,’” Williams said.
“My uncle always said that the tables were piled high with all the delicacies you could ever want. Nobody was seasick
and he loved to take pictures all over the ship.”
Albert took the opportunity one afternoon while on board to ask a crewman to take him to the engine rooms of the ship.
Once there, he took pictures of the stokers shoveling coal and then showed them how to use the camera. Albert then
shoveled coal himself as the stokers took the pictures.
“I always say that photograph saved his life,” Williams said. Williams went on to explain that on the night the Titanic
hit the iceberg, the family was already asleep. Sylvia woke up, while Albert did not.
Soon both were awake and went on deck to see why the ship’s engines had stopped. They were told that everything
was fine and to return to their cabin.
“He was just drifting off when someone came knocking on the door and someone said, 'Get out of bed and put your
lifebelt on.' They couldn’t have been more shocked,” Williams said.
Farwell T. Brown, founder of the Ames Historical Society, wrote in his book, “Ames, the Early Years in Word and
Picture": "Caldwell related that still there was no great concern among many passengers, some expressing the desire to
remain on the ship that they were still convinced would never sink. The great deck on which they stood looked much
better than those small life boats being tossed out on the darkness of the rough open Atlantic."
Williams said that Albert also was not planning to leave the “unsinkable” ship.
“They weren’t going to get off the boat, but wherever they were standing, a group of stokers suddenly appeared and
one of them had been there when [Albert] took the photograph and recognized him ... and said, ‘Mr. Caldwell, if you
value your life, get off this ship. The hull below is filling up with water and this ship will go down,’” Williams said.
“[Albert] kind of argued with the stokers and said, ‘But this is unsinkable.’ One of the stokers said, ‘Well, if the ship is
still here in the morning, then you can get back on,’ and that made sense to [the Caldwells]."
Sylvia, who appeared visibly ill, proceeded to get into lifeboat 13. Others, noticing Sylvia’s condition, allowed Albert
to also get on the lifeboat so he could hold the baby.
The Aug. 26, 1914, issue of the Ames Tribune described the moment of Caldwell being allowed on the boat.
"Mr. Caldwell placed his wife in a lifeboat and was about to hand her the baby, when she begged permission of the
man in charge of the boat to permit her husband to accompany her and assist in the care of the baby ... Had it not been
for the baby, Mr. Caldwell would have remained on board the ship and found a watery grave with hundreds of others."
Lifeboat 13 had to be cut loose from the side of the ship as another lifeboat began to descend on top of them.
“They were stuck, in the middle of the night, having watched the horrible sinking and having heard the people
screaming for help ... Albert always said you had to forget the screams or you would go crazy,” Williams said.
The Caldwells waited until the Carpathia arrived to save them.
“They turned it down before, they didn’t turn it down this time,” Williams said.
-----------------------------------------Five nights into the voyage, the Titanic clipped an iceberg off the coast of Newfoundland. "My wife was awakened by
the crash," Albert Caldwell recalled in a 1929 interview with The Pantagraph. She awakened him, and he went to
investigate, receiving assurances that all was well. He returned to his cabin and fell back asleep, only to be awakened
15 minutes later by a crewman ordering passengers on deck. They wrapped Alden in a cabin rug.
Fortunately, the Caldwells found themselves on the starboard side with its sparse crowds relative to the chaotic port
side.
"My wife and baby were placed in the thirteenth boat," Albert told The Pantagraph, "which was not an unlucky
number for us. As the boat was descending, an officer asked me if the lady was my wife. When I told him she was he
ordered me to get into the boat also. There was plenty of room and the boat was not filled to its capacity of 60 until it
had descended several decks and had been boarded by sailors."
The No. 13 lifeboat actually held 64 people that night. It contained many women from second and third class, as well
as 9 men and 6 crewmembers.
In the years after the tragedy, male survivors like Albert Caldwell faced accusatory whispers, especially because the
dead included women and children. What is clear is that many passengers, men and women alike, chose the apparent
safety of the Titanic for the unknown danger of a lifeboat lowered a precarious 70 feet to the icy North Atlantic. Many
believed that another ship - alerted to the situation by "wireless" - was at full steam and would arrive any hour,
certainly well before the Titanic would slip under the waves.
Once the Titanic was gone, hundreds were left bobbing in the water only to die of hypothermia. The cries were "the
weirdest, most appalling, heart rending noise that ever mortal might hear," remembered Sylvia Caldwell in an account
written weeks after the sinking, "Some man said the cries were people singing; but who could be deceived?"
Dawn brought the Carpathia and safe passage to New York. After returning stateside, Albert Caldwell served as high
school principal in Aledo, Illinois and elsewhere. The Caldwells then came to Bloomington sometime in the early
1920s, with Albert shifting careers from education to insurance. Albert and Sylvia, though, divorced in 1930.
Lottie Collyer
Name: Miss Marjorie Charlotte "Lottie" Collyer
Born: Thursday 28th January 1904
Age: 8 years
Last Residence: in Basingstoke Hampshire England
2nd Class passenger
First Embarked: Southampton on Wednesday 10th April 1912
Ticket No. 31921 , £26 5s
Destination: Payette Idaho United States
Rescued (boat 14)
Disembarked Carpathia: New York City on Thursday 18th April 1912
Died: Friday 26th February 1965
Sad words of Titanic survivor
Jul 6 2002 By Paula Hall, Coventry Evening Telegraph
THE harrowing correspondence of Charlotte Collyer, who was rescued in a lifeboat from the sinking Titanic with her
eight-year-old daughter Marjorie, is included in the lots up for auction.
Harvey and Charlotte Collyer were shopkeepers in the Southampton area who sold their business with the aim of
emigrating with their daughter to the USA.
Before the ship set sail, Charlotte had written a letter expressing sadness at leaving family and friends, but also great
optimism for the future.
"My dear, dear sister and mother ... it hurts me awful to leave you but it's such a good chance. I shall often picture you
at home. I am so thankful you will write to me.
"I feel too full to say much tonight but friends here have been so good, they have given such nice presents and the bell
ringers gave Harvey such a fine farewell peal on the bells. We have much to be thankful for. There is no end coming to
see us off."
Sadly their hopes for a new life in a new country were to be tragically dashed when the Titanic sank. Not only did
Charlotte lose her beloved husband but also all their savings, as Harvey had carried the cash from the sale of their
business with him.
After the disaster Charlotte and Marjorie were taken in by Dr J A De Tienne of New York, from where she wrote again
13 days after the disaster, destitute and heartbroken.
She also acknowledges the kindness of New Yorkers who set out to help.
"My dear, dear mother and sister. I know you are just concerned about us but don't worry dears, I am feeling better now
and the doctor thinks I may go on to Idaho next Tuesday. I should get there about the following Monday.
"Oh mother, it's so hard to go alone. Sometimes I feel I can't bear it and wish I had gone down with my dear boy. It
would have been easier than to live without him. Then I look at Madge I feel braver. She is such a comfort. I have been
on the verge of pneumonia but have pulled round.
"Oh mother, the papers nor anything will ever describe the horrors of that night. They will haunt me til I die.
"I wake in the night and think of my Harvey and his horrid death.
"I haven't a thing in the world that was his, only his rings. You see we lost everything. But people here have been so
good they have loaded us with clothes and presents and collected about £180 for us so that I need not work for a little
while till I get strong.
"A reporter got hold of Madge and took the story from her. I can't make her realize about daddy so I must leave it to
God and time to dull the awful shock it will be to her ..."
Once Charlotte was well enough she traveled on with her daughter to Idaho.
After a short stay in the States they returned to England, where Charlotte remarried.
There is a sad postscript to her story. Charlotte died in 1914 from tuberculosis, a disease which she and Harvey had
thought she could escape by moving to the cleaner air of a fruit farm in Idaho.
On April 21 she wrote to her mother:
Brooklyn, New York
Sun April 21st
My dear Mother and all,
I don't know how to write to you or what to say, I feel I shall go mad sometimes but dear as much as my heart aches it
aches for you too for he is your son and the best that ever lived. I had not given up hope till today that he might be
found but I'm told all boats are accounted for. Oh mother how can I live without him. I wish I'd gone with him if they
had not wrenched Madge from me I should have stayed and gone with him. But they threw her into the boat and pulled
me in too but he was so calm and I know he would rather I lived for her little sake otherwise she would have been an
orphan. The agony of that night can never be told. Poor mite was frozen. I have been ill but have been taken care of by
a rich New York doctor and feel better now. They are giving us every comfort and have collected quite a few pounds
for us and loaded us with clothes and a gentleman on Monday is taking us to the White Star office and also to another
office to get us some money from the funds that is being raised here. Oh mother there are some good hearts in New
York, some want me to go back to England but I can't, I could never at least not yet go over the ground where my all is
sleeping.
Sometimes I feel we lived too much for each other that is why I've lost him. But mother we shall meet him in heaven.
When that band played 'Nearer My God to Thee' I know he thought of you and me for we both loved that hymn and I
feel that if I go to Payette I'm doing what he would wish me to, so I hope to do this at the end of next week where I shall
have friends and work and I will work for his darling as long as she needs me. Oh she is a comfort but she don't realize
yet that her daddy is in heaven. There are some dear children here who have loaded her with lovely toys but it's when
I'm alone with her she will miss him. Oh mother I haven't a thing in the world that was his only his rings. Everything
we had went down. Will you, dear mother, send me on a last photo of us, get it copied I will pay you later on. Mrs.
Hallets brother from Chicago is doing al he can for us in fact the night we landed in New York (in our nightgowns) he
had engaged a room at a big hotel with food and every comfort waiting for us. He has been a father to us. I will send his
address on a card (Mr. Horder) perhaps you might like to write to him some time.
God Bless you dear mother and help and comfort you in this awful sorrow.
Your loving child Lot.
The mother and child received relief from both the Mansion House Titanic Relief Fund:
Number P. 26.
Collyer, Charlotte, widow and Marjorie, child.
Received total £1 3s 0d per week.
No. 83. (English).
The husband was drowned. His wife and seven year old daughter were saved. He was a merchant in England and had
been the parish clerk in the village where they lived. They were highly respected people in fair circumstances. The
wife had contracted tuberculosis and they were coming to this country to buy a fruit farm in Idaho, where they hoped
the climate would be beneficial. He was carrying $5,000 in cash; this was lost, and all their household belongings.
Both the widow and her daughter suffered severely from shock and exposure. They were at first unwilling to return to
England, feeling that the husband would have wished them to carry out his original plan. For emergent needs she was
given $200 by this Committee, and $450 by other American relief funds. After a short residence in the West she
decided to return to her family in England. Through interested friends in New York City, a fund of $2,000 was raised,
and she received $300 for a magazine article describing the disaster. She returned to England in June and her
circumstances were reported to the English Committee, which granted £50 outright and a pension of 23 shillings a
week. ($200).
John Davies , Jr.
Name: Master John Morgan Davies , Jr.
Born: Friday 31st July 1903
Age: 8 years
Last Residence: in St. Ives Cornwall England
2nd Class passenger
First Embarked: Southampton on Wednesday 10th April 1912
Ticket No. 33112 , £36 15s
Destination: Houghton Michigan United States
Rescued (boat 14)
Disembarked Carpathia: New York City on Thursday 18th April 1912
Died: Sunday 16th December 1951
Master John Morgan Davies Jr., 10, was born in Cardiff, Wales on 31 July 1903, the son of John Morgan Davies and
Agnes Davis (née White). His father died shortly after his birth and so he and his mother returned to St Ives in
Cornwall, they lived in the area known as the Stennack.
John's half brother, Richard Nicholls, emigrated to Kearsarge near New Allouez, Houghton County, Michigan and
John was to be taken by his mother to join him. They boarded the Titanic at Southampton as second class passengers
along with Joseph Charles Nicholls, who was another son of Agnes's first marriage. John, along with his mother,
family friend Maude Sincock and Alice Phillips of Ilfracombe, Devon shared a cabin.
John Davies and his mother were probably rescued in lifeboat 14 (another source says boat 3), Joseph Nicholls was
lost.
Thirty years later John was living at 2250 Kendall Street, Detroit with his wife Olive Leona Uren from whom he was
subsequently divorced in November 1951, they had two children.
John worked as a clerk in a drug store. He took his own life (barbiturate poisoning) on 16 December 1951 likely as a
result of his divorce. He was buried on 20 December 1951 at the Lakeview Cemetery, Calumet, Houghton County,
Michigan. The informant shown on his death certificate was Mrs Martha Copeland, believed to be a married daughter
of his.
Mrs. John Morgan Davies recounts story of Titanic Survival
Calumet News, April 1912
(Elizabeth Agnes Mary White), 48, was born on 23 November 1863 in the village of Ludgvan, Cornwall, the daughter
of Mr. John White (?Friggens) (a Carrier, whose business address was 93A Market Jew Street, Penzance) and his
wife Elizabeth. She was sister to John, James, Mary Teresa, Edith E, Josiah Eade and Emily. At the time of the 1881
census she was a dressmaker, living with her family at 17 New Street, Penzance, Cornwall.
Agnes married Richard Henry Nicholls, a stonemason who worked at the granite quarry at Trenowith Downs. They
lived in the nearby village of Nancledra where their 3 children were born. Richard Henry Nicholls was the eldest,
followed by a daughter, Mary and Joseph Charles Nicholls. After the death of her husband in about 1900 the family
moved to live in the Stennack, St Ives where she had relatives.
Agnes subsequently remarried, to a Welshman, Mr .John Morgan Davies. She and her children moved with him to
live in Cardiff, South Wales where a further son, John Morgan Davis was born. Her second marriage however, was
short lived. When John Morgan Davies died she and her family returned to live in St Ives. Not long afterward her
eldest son, Richard Nicholls and his wife, emigrated to Kearsarge near New Allouez, Houghton County, Michigan. A
short while later Agnes decided to take her family to join her son and daughter-in-law in America. To raise the
necessary funds she sold all her belongings in St Ives. With this done their ticket was purchased from William Cogar
who was the White Star agent in St Ives, it was numbered 33112 and had cost £36 15s. The family left St Ives by train
and traveled with a family friend, Maude Sincock of Halsetown. She and her infant son, John Davies occupied a cabin
with Maude Sincock and also Alice Phillips of Ilfracombe, Devon, her elder son Joseph had separate accommodation.
Agnes survived the sinking, probably in lifeboat 14, the events immediately before and after the sinking were
recounted by her to a Calumet newspaper on arrival in Michigan.
'We were in our berths when the steamer struck the iceberg at 11.50 the night of Sunday. we felt the jar but did not
imagine that anything serious had occurred. However I rang for the steward for the purpose of making inquiries. He
assured us that nothing of consequence had happened and that we could remain in our berths without fear. A few
minutes later Miss Phillips' father, who was also a passenger on the boat called his daughter and told her to dress. She
went on deck and returned shortly and said orders had been given for all the passengers to dress and put on lifebelts.
By this time I had dressed, although my little son was still sleeping. The steward again came to the stateroom and said
there was no danger or occasion for fear. I decided to dress the boy, however, and did so.
My son Joseph had dressed and he came to the stateroom and put lifebelts on us. Through all this time we had received
no warning from the steward, no orders to prepare for anything like what we were to experience. Had it not been for
our curiosity to learn what was going on we might have perished. we went on deck about 12.15 and my son and myself
were placed in the third lifeboat.
My older son, Joseph, helped to place us in the boat and asked permission to enter it himself, this being refused with
the threat that he would be shot if he attempted to get in. I pleaded with the officers in vain, that he be allowed to come
with me. There were about fifty in the boat, but there was room for more. After we were lowered away and before the
boat left the ship some men entered it by sliding down the davit ropes. The men in charge of the boat rowed as hard as
they could to get away from the ship. By the time she sank, which was at 1.45, it seemed as if we were miles away,
although I could hear the screams, cries and moaning of the drowning passengers.'
Agnes and her infant son spent about 5 hours in the boat before being picked up by the Carpathia, once on the ship she
commented that 'everything possible was done for the saved'.
On arrival in New York in addition to overnight accommodation she was given a train ticket, $5 in cash and a lunch
box by the White Star Line. She left New York by train heading for Mohawk, Michigan. Once in Michigan passengers
on the train between Negaunee and Calumet recognizing her need, raised 'a neat little sum for her benefit'. A
subscription list was also started for her benefit in Calumet. The Calumet News also went on to say that Mrs Davies
was a 'pleasant and refined woman but greatly overwrought and nervous as a result of her experience, suffering and
bereavement. The sinking of the Titanic had taken from her, her almost sole support, a nineteen year old son. The loss
of whom seems to her to have been unnecessary, too, which makes it all the harder to bear. '
Marshall Drew
Name: Master Marshall Brines Drew
Born: Wednesday 30th March 1904
Age: 8 years
Last Residence: in Greenport, New York
2nd Class passenger
First Embarked: Southampton on Wednesday 10th April 1912
Ticket No. 28220 , £32 10s
Destination: Greenport United States
Rescued (boat 10)
Disembarked Carpathia: New York City on Thursday 18th April 1912
Died: Friday 6th June 1986
Master Marshall Brines Drew, was born on 30 March 1904 in Greenport, Suffolk County, New York, the son of John
William Drew (monumental marble sculptor) who had emigrated from Constantine, Cornwall in 1896 with his brother
James.
Marshall's mother died two weeks after he was born and so his uncle and aunt, James and Lulu Drew, became his
adoptive parents. They had traveled on the Olympic to Cornwall in the autumn of 1911 to visit his uncle's and father's
relatives in Constantine. Their return journey to Greenport was to be on board the Titanic, Marshall in later life
assumed that his Uncle Jim had decided on the Titanic's maiden voyage because of "all the hoopla!"
They boarded the Titanic at Southampton as second class passengers. On embarking Marshall and his uncle
were allowed to view the first class areas. They had a look at the gymnasium and barbers shop. The latter
doubled as a souvenir shop and James bought Marshall a ribbon with 'RMS Titanic' embroidered on it in gold
threads (as worn on the sailors uniform caps).
Marshall and his aunt survived the sinking in lifeboat 10 (Marshall always thought it was boat 11), they were both met
in New York by Marshall's father, William Drew who had been anxiously waiting for them for 3 days.
After the loss of his uncle he stayed with his aunt until she remarried in 1914, he was then looked after by his
grandfather, Henry Christian, a Civil War veteran.
Account by Marshall Drew
'When the 'Titanic' struck the iceberg at 11.40 pm, I was in bed. However, for whatever reason I was awake and
remember the jolt and cessation of motion. A steward knocked on the stateroom door and directed us to get dressed,
put on life preservers and go to the boat deck, which we did. There was a watertight compartment next to our
stateroom. As we left it was closed. I remember the steward as we passed was trying to arouse passengers who had
locked themselves in for the night. Elevators were not running. We walked up to the boat deck. All was calm and
orderly. An officer was in charge. 'Women and children first,' he said, as he directed lifeboat number 11 to be filled.
there were many tearful farewells. We and Uncle Jim said 'goodbye.' Waiting on deck before this I could hear the
ship's orchestra playing somewhere off to first class. Lifeboat number 11 was near the stern. I will never forget that as
I looked over my right shoulder, (the) steerage (promenade area) was blacked out. It made an impression I never
forgot. Now I know from reading that lifeboat 11 was the only lifeboat filled to capacity. The lowering of the lifeboat
70ft to the sea was perilous. Davits, ropes, nothing worked properly, so that first one end of the lifeboat was tilted up
and then far down. I think it was the only time I was scared. Lifeboats pulled some distance away from the sinking
'Titanic', afraid of what the suction might do. I am always annoyed at artists' depictions of the sinking of 'Titanic'. I've
never seen one that came anywhere near the truth. There might have been the slightest ocean swell but it was dead
calm. Stars there may have been, but the blackness of the night was so intense one could not see anything like a
horizon. As row by row of the porthole lights of the 'Titanic' sank into the sea this was about all one could see. When
the 'Titanic' upended to sink, all was blacked out until the tons of machinery crashed to the bow. This sounded like an
explosion which of course it was not. As this happened hundreds of people were thrown into the sea.It isn't likely I
shall ever forget the screams of those people as they perished in the water said to be 28 degrees. The reader will have
to understand that at this point in my life I was being brought up as a typical British kid. You were not allowed to cry.
You were a 'little man'. So! as a cool kid I lay down in the bottom of the lifeboat and went to sleep. When I awoke it
was broad daylight as we approached the 'Carpathia'. Looking around over the gunwale it seemed to me like the
Arctic. Icebergs of huge size ringed the horizon for 360 degrees.'
Nan Harper
Name: Miss Annie (Nan) Jessie Harper
Born: Monday 1st January 1906
Age: 6 years
Last Residence: in London London England
2nd Class passenger
First Embarked: Southampton on Wednesday 10th April 1912
Ticket No. 248727 , £33
Destination: Chicago Illinois United States
Rescued (boat 11)
Disembarked Carpathia: New York City on Thursday 18th April 1912
Died: Thursday 10th April 1986
Nan Harper was the six-year-old daughter of Reverend John Harper, pastor of the Walworth Road Baptist Church in
London. Rev. Harper was traveling second class to Chicago to preach at the Moody Church for three or four months,
and he and his little daughter were accompanied by a relative, Miss Jessie Leitch, who took care of Nan. (Mrs. Harper
had died three years previously.) On the evening of April 14th Rev. Harper and Miss Leitch were standing on deck
admiring the sunset. "It will be beautiful in the morning," remarked Rev. Harper before retiring for the night.
After the collision, Reverend Harper awakened his daughter, picked her up and wrapped her in a blanket before
carrying her up to A deck. There he kissed her goodbye and handed her to a crewman, who put her into boat number 11
with Miss Leitch.
Reverend Harper went down with the ship.
In New York, little Nan couldn't understand why her father did not come to her in this strange new land. "I left Papa on
the big boat, and he told me to go with Aunt Jessie," she said. "Now I want Papa." But Papa never came, and Nan and
Miss Leitch returned to England a week later.
In later years Nan married the Rev. Pont of St. John's Rectory in Moffat, Dumfriesshire. When she was 72 she was
asked if she would like to see the Titanic raised. "I don't see much point in it after all this time," she replied.
Before Nina Harper's death in 1986, at which time she was Mrs. Nan Harper Pont, of Glasgow, Scotland, she wrote in
a letter that she “ was sitting on her aunt's lap when she saw the Titanic sink. I remember watching the lights go out and
hearing the screams of the drowning.” Even at the tender age of 6, her memory of that terrible night was remarkable.
Eva Hart, on many occasions, mentioned that she and Nina Harper had played together on the Titanic (their ages
being just a year apart) but Nina never remembered this. She did write and speak to Eva Hart for many years.
Nina Harper's mother died when she was born so after her father's death, she became an orphan and was raised by her
father's brothers. Growing up, she was told not to speak about the terrible disaster. It was not until her later years that
she started to speak about the sinking. Her aunt, Miss Jessie Leitch, died in 1963.
It is believed that the well known photograph of the Titanic's second class boat deck in which a young girl, holding
her father's hand, is young Nina Harper and her father.
NINA “NAN” HARPER - CHILD OF THE TITANIC
On the ship, Miss Nina Harper (who preferred to be called "Nan") met and played with a seven year old child,
named Miss Eva Hart. Eva Hart was traveling with her parents, and her family was also in the second class section of
the ship. They were on the way to Winnipeg, Manitoba where her father was going to open a drug store. Since the girls
were so close in age, they played together on the Titanic and even kept in contact for years after the tragedy. Miss Eva
Hart remembered her Mother being very upset about going on this boat, she had a premonition that something terrible
would happen... and Eva had said it was the first time she had seen her Mother cry. On this fateful night, she was
awakened, wrapped in a blanket and told to "hold mummy's hand and be a good girl." She and her Mother were then
lowered into lifeboat number 14. That was the last time she saw her father.
Her story is very similar to that of Miss Nina "Nan" Harper. She also was awakened in the night by her Father and
wrapped in a blanket, then he kissed her goodbye and handed her to a crewman who placed her on her Aunt Jessie's lap
on lifeboat number 11. She was never to see her Father again, he perished aboard the Titanic. Since she had lost her
Mother three years earlier, she was an orphan after the Titanic tragedy, and was raised in England by her Father's
brother, her Uncle. When she first arrived in New York, she couldn't understand why her Father wasn't with her in this
new country. She was quoted as saying "I left Papa on the big boat, and he told me to go with Aunt Jessie... Now, I
want Papa." Little Nan and Miss Leich returned to England a week later.
When Nan Harper grew up, she married in 1934 and became Mrs. Pont. Her husband was a reverend at St. John's
Rectory in Moffat, Dumfriesshire. When she was 72 years old, someone had asked her whether she would like to see
the Titanic raised... she had replied that she "didn't see much point in it after all this time." Nina Harper (later known as
Mrs. Nan Harper Pont) passed away in 1986, and she was living in Glasgow, Scotland at that time.
It was reported years later, that Nina "Nan" Harper Pont had written a letter in which she had described what she saw
that horrific night. She was sitting in her Aunt's lap when she watched the Titanic sink. Even at such a young age, her
memories were still very vibrant. She recalled hearing the screams of the drowning people, and watching the lights all
go out. She was told later never to speak of the sinking, and it wasn't until years later that she actually did speak about
it.
Eva Hart
Name: Miss Eva Miriam Hart
Born: Tuesday 31st January 1905
Age: 7 years
Last Residence: in Ilford London England
2nd Class passenger
First Embarked: Southampton on Wednesday 10th April 1912
Ticket No. 13529 , £26 5s
Destination: Winnipeg Manitoba Canada
Rescued (boat 14)
Disembarked Carpathia: New York City on Thursday 18th April 1912
Died: Wednesday 14th February 1996
Eva Miriam Hart was born on January 31, 1905 in Ilford, London, England to Benjamin Hart and Esther Bloomfield.
In early 1912, Benjamin decided to take his family and immigrate to Winnipeg, Manitoba, where he planned to open a
drug store. Eva was seven years old when she and her parents boarded the RMS Titanic as second-class passengers on
April 10, 1912 at Southampton, England.
We went on the day on the boat train... I was 7, I had never seen a ship before... it looked very
big...everybody was very excited, we went down to the cabin and that's when my mother said to my father
that she had made up her mind quite firmly that she would not go to bed in that ship, she would sit up at
night... she decided that she wouldn't go to bed at night, and she didn't!
Throughout the voyage Eva's mother was troubled by a fear that some kind of catastrophe would hit the ship.
To call a ship unsinkable was, in her mind, flying in the face of God.
"My father was so excited about it and my mother was so upset... The first time in my life I saw her
crying... she was so desperately unhappy about the prospect of going, she had this premonition, a most
unusual thing for her...
Eva was sleeping when the Titanic struck the iceberg. Eva's father rushed into her cabin to alert his wife and daughter,
and after wrapping Eva in a blanket, carried her to the boat's deck. He placed his wife and daughter in Lifeboat No. 14
and told Eva to 'hold mummy's hand and be a good girl.' It was the last time she would ever see her father. Eva's father
perished and his body, if recovered, was never identified.
Eva and her mother were rescued up by the RMS Carpathia and arrived in New York City on April 18th. Soon after
arriving in New York, Eva and her mother returned to England and her mother remarried. Eva was plagued with
nightmares and upon the death of her mother when Eva was 23, Eva confronted her fears head on by returning to the
sea and locking herself in a cabin for four straight days until the nightmares went away. "I saw that ship sink," she said
in a 1993 interview. "I never closed my eyes. I didn't sleep at all. I saw it, I heard it, and nobody could possibly forget
it." "I can remember the colors, the sounds, everything," she said. "The worst thing I can remember are the screams."
And then the silence that followed. "It seemed as if once everybody had gone, drowned, finished, the whole world was
standing still. There was nothing, just this deathly, terrible silence in the dark night with the stars overhead."
Eva was one of the most outspoken survivors concerning the Titanic's lack of sufficient lifeboats and of any
salvage attempts of the Titanic after its discovery in 1985. She commonly criticised the White Star Line for failing to
provide enough lifeboats for all aboard Titanic. "If a ship is torpedoed, that's war," she once said. "If it strikes a rock in
a storm, that's nature. But just to die because there weren't enough lifeboats, that's ridiculous." When salvaging efforts
began in 1987, Eva was quick to note that the Titanic was a grave site and should be treated as such. She often decried
the "insensitivity and greed" and labeled the salvers "fortune hunters, vultures, pirates, and grave robbers."
Eva maintained very active in Titanic-related activities well into her 80s. In 1982, Eva returned to the United States
and joined several other survivors at a Titanic Historical Society convention commemorating the 70th anniversary of
Eva died on February 14, 1996 at her home in Chadwell Heath at the age of 91. A Wetherspoon's Pub in Chadwell
Heath is fittingly named 'The Eva Hart'
Titanic Survivor Eva Hart and her connection to Winnipeg
altnersandi.com/2011/01/27/titanic-survivor-eva-hart-and-her-connection-to-winnipeg/
Eva Hart was just seven years old when her family left Ilford, England, and boarded the Titanic in Southampton. They
were saying good-bye to England to make their future in Winnipeg, Canada.
Eva’s parents were Benjamin Hart, a builder who had fallen on hard times, and his wife, Esther Bloomfield Hart. Eva
had often told the story of how her father had made the monumental decision to try their luck in Canada in a single
evening based on a lively visit from an old friend. The friend had come to see the Harts on his holiday, and he was
brimming with enthusiasm for the many opportunities he had found in Winnipeg. The discussion was apparently
music to the ears of Eva’s father.
Despite Esther’s great apprehension, Benjamin immediately set about making plans to move his family to the new
world. He sold his business, purchased tickets for travel on the ship called the Philadelphia, and was said to have had
intentions of opening a drugstore in Winnipeg. But as their travel date approached, a coal strike prevented the
Philadelphia from sailing. As Eva told the story, her father was thrilled when he was informed their tickets had
been transferred to a second class cabin on the Titanic. Her mother, however, was terrified.
Benjamin thought Esther would be delighted, because the new ship was said to be unsinkable, but instead, his
wife was sick with worry, claiming to have great apprehension about their safety. Eva remembered her mother
felt strongly that something very bad was going to happen in the night. She napped in the daytime, and every
night she sat up in a chair, fully clothed and forced herself to stay awake.
On the night of the sinking, Eva was asleep in her bed when Titanic struck the iceberg. Her father wrapped her in a
blanket and brought her up to the deck with her mother, and saw them into the heavily crowded lifeboat number 14.
“Hold Mummy’s hand and be a good girl,” he told her.
That was the last time she saw her father.
There was pandemonium on the deck as the last of the boats were being loaded. “Women and children only” was the
cry that went up as she and her mother were lowered away.
When the Titanic sank a short while later, Eva, a tiny child, could not take her eyes off of the spectacle. With screams
in the night as people hit the water and drowned, she watched as the ship broke apart, and then slipped into the sea. The
sea was glassy smooth with only the stars casting eery illumination on the death scene. Chairs, debris and bodies
floated about.
The worst thing I can remember are the screams,” Eva said, in a 1993 interview. “And then the silence that followed.
It seemed as if once everybody had gone, drowned, finished, the whole world was standing still. There was nothing,
just this deathly, terrible silence in the dark night with the stars overhead.”
The body of Benjamin Hart was never recovered. Eva and her mother were taken aboard the rescue ship, the
Carpathia, and continued on into New York with all of the survivors. They then returned to England and Esther
remarried. Eva suffered from nightmares for years. She remained deeply attached to her mother and sought her out to
calm her night terrors. She was 23 when Esther died and finally defeated her fears of ocean travel by taking a long
voyage to Singapore and then Australia. Eva never married. She worked in many jobs over her life, which included a
career as a professional singer in Australia. She later became, a Conservative party organizer and magistrate in
England.
In her later years, Eva also became one of the most outspoken critics of salvage efforts of the Titanic and considered
the removal of items from the shipwreck to be grave robbing.
Eva Hart died on February 14th, 1995 at the age of 91. Her death was considered the end of the last living memory of
the Titanic, as the remaining survivors at that time were either too frail of memory to be interviewed, or too young at
the time of the sinking to have stories to share.
Louise Laroche
Name: Miss Louise Laroche
Born: Saturday 2nd July 1910
Age: 1 years
Simonne Laroche
Simonne Marie Anne Andrée Laroche
Friday 19th February 1909
3 years
Last Residence: in Paris France
2nd Class passenger
First Embarked: Cherbourg on Wednesday 10th April 1912
Ticket No. 2123 , £41 11s 7d
Destination: Cap Haitien Haiti
Rescued (boat 14)
(boat 14)
Disembarked Carpathia: New York City on Thursday 18th April 1912
Never Married
Never married
Died: Sunday 25th January 1998
Wednesday 8th August 1973
A Haitian French Family Which Traveled in Second Class Aboard Titanic
Haiti is not the usual place to begin a story about a Titanic survivor and yet it all began there.
Cap Haitien is in the northern part of the country and on May 26, 1886, Joseph Laroche was born. The boy grew up in
the city and being a good pupil, in 1901 at the age of 15, Joseph decided that he wanted to study engineering. There
was no school for such in Haiti so he went to France traveling with a teacher, Monseigneur Kersuzan, the Lord Bishop
of Haiti. The young man settled in Beauvais, where the engineering school was located and shared quarters with the
Monseigneur. He had lessons in Beauvais and Lille, and being a serious pupil, his marks were good and Joseph was a
promising student.
Monseigneur Kersuzan planned to visit a friend who lived near Paris; the young student promptly accepted his
invitation to accompany him. Monsieur Lafargue, a wine seller lived in Villejuif. His daughter, Juliette was born
October 20, 1889. Madame Lafargue died early at age 40 a few years before. Joseph and Juliette soon became friends,
fell in love and decided to marry. Joseph graduated from school and got his certificate. In March 1908 they were
married at the Lafargue home. It was a special event; the Lafargues were upper middle class and marrying an only
daughter was a very serious matter for the family.
When Joseph graduated he expected to find employment as an engineer, there were opportunities in Paris for someone
with his education, however, there was a problem he had not thought of. Although France is a pretty country with
beautiful scenery, marvelous cities and nice people, racial prejudice at that time could prevent someone from
employing a young dark-skinned man. Joseph did find work, but his employers made excuses that he was young and
inexperienced and paid him poorly.
A year later the young couple celebrated the birth of their first daughter, Simonne, on February 19, 1909. On July 2nd,
1910, Louise was born, she was premature and frail, suffering from many medical problems in her first years. Joseph
had to find a better paying job to support his children who were very important to him. In 1911 he decided to return to
Haiti where there surely was a need for qualified young engineers. The country was far from modern, there would be
great opportunities and his family could have a better standard of living. He wasn't sure if Juliette would accept leaving
behind her family, friends and a familiar country to move where she had never been before. Literally at the other end
of the world, where things would be so different. They talked the matter over and she finally accepted. Travel to Haiti
was planned for the next year.
When Juliette discovered she was pregnant in March 1912, Joseph decided an earlier departure was better, his wife
would be less tired and they preferred the child to be born in Haiti. If they didn't leave immediately, departure would
be delayed for some time, they wanted to avoid traveling with a newborn on what would already be a tiresome trip.
Joseph's mother bought the tickets -- as a welcome present for the new family.
The crossing was booked on CGT's (French Line) newest steamship, a four-funneled liner, France. Her maiden voyage
was April 20, bound for New York from Le Havre. The company's policy at that time required children to stay in the
nursery; children were not allowed in the ship's restaurant even with their parents. This policy annoyed Juliette and
Joseph. He insisted he would not be separated from his two girls so their tickets were changed, transferring their
passage to White Star's newest steamship, Titanic, also on her maiden voyage from Southampton with a stop in
Cherbourg to New York leaving ten days earlier on April 10. Afterwards, passage to Haiti was just a matter of miles
and this was the beginning of their new life!
On sailing day the sky was clear. In the early hours Joseph, Juliette, Simonne and Louise left the family home for the
train to Paris. The boat train was already loading passengers at Gare Saint-Lazare. It was there, in the Cour de Rome,
that the Laroches were waiting the boarding hour with a friend, Monsieur Renard, who had bought a balloon for each
girl. Louise, sitting in her pram in the sunshine was laughing when the string suddenly left her hand and flew away.
Louise cried and kind Monsieur Renard ran to the next balloon seller to buy another. When it was time to board the
train they all waved their last good-bye. Monsieur Renard remained on the platform wondering if would he ever see
the Laroches again.
The trip from Paris to Cherbourg was long, the girls were too excited and could not sleep. The train was a new world to
explore. In the same carriage they met a young boy named Andre. The boy's parents smiled at the two girls, who, in
turn, smiled back Monsieur and Madame Laroche who gestured an acknowledgment to the couple and a few words
were exchanged. Monsieur and Madame Mallet, Andre's parents were boarding Titanic in Cherbourg, too; they were
emigrating to Montreal. Their son was only two years old so it would not be difficult to begin a new life in Canada.
The Laroches said they were emigrating to Haiti where their grandmother was looking forward to meeting them. The
Mallets were also traveling in second class like the Laroches. They wondered if there would there be other French
emigrants on the ship. When the train stopped at the maritime terminal at 4:00 PM, the two families and their common
experience made them feel close to each other.
Luggage was taken from the train and brought to the quay. Because of her size large liners like Titanic anchored in the
harbor off Grande Rade near Fort de l'Ouest. Nomadic and Traffic, White Star's tenders carried passengers from the
terminal to the liner. Traffic transported luggage and third class passengers while Nomadic carried first and second
class. The travelers boarded the tenders at 5:30 PM ready to join Titanic but the liner was late. There was talk of an
incident in Southampton during her departure [the near collision of the liner New York]. The liner appeared on the
horizon and neared Passe de l'Ouest where she anchored about 6:30 PM. Photographers who had arrived in the
afternoon had given up since it was already too dark. They didn't consider it a problem since she'd be back on the next
voyage and they would then be able to get their photographs in daylight.
Traffic moored alongside the Titanic. Twenty-two cross-channel passengers disembarked while mail and additional
goods were taken aboard. Then Nomadic brought 274 passengers, including the Mallets and Laroches, the unloading
did not take more than twenty minutes. The travelers were looking forward to their voyage. A crowd of onlookers
assembled on the jetty to admire her beautiful silhouette, a band played La Marseillaise. It was dark when Titanic, her
rows of portholes glowing with light left. She had not spent more than two hours in Cherbourg, her next stop was
Queenstown.
Juliette wrote to her father. The letter was posted Queenstown, Ireland, April 11, 1912.
On board R.M.S. TITANIC
My dear Dad
I have just been told that we am going to stop in a moment, so I take this opportunity to drop you a few lines and tell
you about us.
We boarded the Titanic last evening at 7:00. If you could see this monster, our tender looked like a fly compared to
her. The arrangements could not be more comfortable. We have two bunks in our cabin, and the two babies
sleep on a sofa that converts into a bed. One is at the head, the other at the bottom. A board put before them
prevents them from falling. They're as well, if not better, than in their beds.
The boat set out when we were eating and we could not believe she was moving: we are less shaken than in a train.
We just feel a slight trepidation. The girls ate well last night. They only took a nap in the whole night and the chime of
the bell announcing breakfast woke them up. Louise laughed a lot at it. At the moment they are strolling on the
enclosed deck with Joseph, Louise is in her pram, and Simonne is pushing her. They already have become acquainted
with people we made the trip from Paris with a gentleman and his lady and their little boy too, who is the same age as
Louise.
I think they are the only French people on the boat, so we sat at the same table so that we could chat together.
Simonne was so funny a moment ago, she was playing with a young English girl who had lent her her doll. My
Simonne was having a great conversation with her, but the girl did not understand a single word. People on board are
very nice. Yesterday, they both were running after a gentleman who had given them chocolates.
This morning I tried to count all the children on the boat. In second class only, I am sure that there are more than
twenty. There is a small family with four children, they remind me of my Uncle's. The youngest looks very much like
fat Marcelle. I am writing from the reading room: there is a concert in here, near me, one violin, two cellos, one piano.
Up to now, I have not felt seasick. I hope it will go on this way. The sea is very smooth, the weather is
wonderful. If you could see how big this ship is! One can hardly find the way back to one's cabin in the number
of corridors.
I will stop here now for I believe we are going to put in and I wouldn't like to miss the next mail. Once again, thank
you my dear dad for all your marks of bounty towards us, and receive all the warmest kisses from your loving
daughter, Juliette.
Warmly kiss for us all our dear Grand Mother, Maurice, Marguerite, and Madeleine. Little Simonne and Louise
kiss their good Grand Father. They had just their dresses on this morning when they wanted to go and see you.
************
Juliette’s first recollections of April 15th, 1912 were of the Cunard Carpathia, when they were hauled up in bags.
Simonne remembered how frightening it had been and the image stayed with her. Onboard their mother already
surmised that Joseph had drowned. No other ship picked up any lifeboats where he might have been found.
Earlier, a steward had come to their cabin and told them to wear their lifejackets, Titanic had suffered an accident.
Joseph put everything valuable money and jewels in his pockets. Unable to understand, Juliette let Joseph, who spoke
English fluently, lead her to the lifeboats.
With two fatherless daughters and pregnant, she felt alone. A few words spoken among the survivors located Madame
Antoinette Mallet who had been saved with her son Andre but she lost her husband, too. The two women now shared
the common ordeal as widows.
A common problem survivors faced was a lack of linen -- Carpathia was unable to provide enough for everyone.
Juliette needed them to make diapers for the babies, the stewardesses would not give her any since there were none to
spare. However, necessity being the mother of invention, Juliette found a way. At the end of each meal she sat on
napkins and with what she was able to conceal, she used for her girls.
Neither Madame Mallet nor Laroche could remember what number lifeboat they had escaped. The only detail Juliette
remembered was that in her boat a countess or someone with a title was among those who rowed all night long. The
boat had icy water in the bottom and her feet were frozen.
On April 18 after a crossing in foggy weather, Carpathia reached New York. In pouring rain, the survivors
disembarked; no one was waiting and Juliette lost sight of Madame Mallet. It was years later when she saw her again
back in Villejuif.
Juliette and the girls were directed to a hospital where her frozen feet were treated. The loss of her husband, personal
belongings, combined with pain and fright made her cancel continuing to Haiti, instead deciding to return to the
familiarity of France. Passage was on the liner, Chicago, because she was a French ship. The Laroches were back in Le
Havre in May and then home to her father.
Monsieur Lafargue had been a widower for years. The house at 131 Grande Rue was rented by the year until the death
of the owners who lived in Saint-Jean-les-Deux-Jumeaux, a tiny village a few kilometers east of Villejuif. At age 50,
his wine business would not be enough to earn a living for the whole family, he urged his daughter to sue the White
Star Line for the losses suffered. After several years and much difficulty she received a settlement of 150,000 francs in
1918 that provided the opportunity for a new start especially since the war was over. She set up a small business in a
spare room in the house dyeing cloth and crafts making which proved fruitful.
In 1920, Joseph's mother traveled from Haiti to meet her daughter-in-law and her grandchildren. She treated them as if
they were foreigners rather than family, it was apparent the visit did not go well, she returned to Haiti and they never
saw her again.
When their father passed away, Juliette inherited the house. In 1932 a young journalist asked if she could be
interviewed but she refused, as far as she was concerned the Titanic episode was over. She did decide to meet with
another survivor, Miss Edith Russell, who invited her and the children to the Claridge Hotel in Paris. Every April 15,
for a number of years, Juliette received a nice gift from Miss Russell such as perfume or chocolate; then the presents
stopped as well as the regular visits from Madame Mallet.
On August 8, 1973, Simonne, who never married, died at the age of 64. At age 91 on January 10, 1980 Juliette died. On
her grave a plaque is engraved: Juliette Laroche 1889-1980, wife of Joseph Laroche, lost at sea on RMS Titanic, April
15th 1912. Louise Laroche died in January 1998.
Bertha Lehmann
Name: Miss Bertha Lehmann
Born: Sunday 31st March 1895
Age: 17 years
Last Residence: in Lotzwil Switzerland
2nd Class passenger
First Embarked: Cherbourg on Wednesday 10th April 1912
Ticket No. 1748 , £12
Destination: Central City United States
Rescued (boat 12)
Disembarked Carpathia: New York City on Thursday 18th April 1912
Died: Tuesday 5th December 1967
Miss Bertha Lehmann, 17, was born on 31 March 1895 at Lotzwil, Kanton Bern, Switzerland. She worked as a
waitress. Miss Lehmann received a second class ticket from her brother and her sister (Friedrich Lehmann and Marie
Zembrunnen-Lehmann). It was planned that she would come to America in May, but she wanted to surprise her
siblings, so she travelled earlier to Central City, Iowa.
She boarded the Titanic as a second class passengers at Cherbourg. Her ticket was provided by the agent: Im Obersteg,
Basel for 330 Swiss francs (number SC 1748, price: £12) She left her home on Easter Sunday and was accompanied by
her father Johann Lehmann-Kupferschmied to the railway station at Basel. He kissed her good-bye and said: "I
suppose, I won't see you again." he also expressed premonitions saying, "Bertha, every time you come along with me
I have some sort of bad luck, and I feel now like something is going to happen to you."
The next morning she was in Paris and left that town by train around midday. Around midnight on 9 April she was at
Cherbourg. The Titanic stopped at Cherbourg the following evening. She occupied a starboard-cabin on D, E or
F-Deck.
Right from the beginning she became seasick. So she had to stay at her cabin till saturday. On this day she felt better
and took her meal at the dining saloon. At her table sat Michel Navratil with his two children. After dinner Navratil
bade her to keep an eye on them. In the evening she wrote letters in the library and finally went to her room. On April
14th she went to bed at 11.30 pm and fell asleep.
On the night of Sunday 14th April, she read in bed before settling into a light sleep. She likened the impact to a train
"grinding to a very sudden stop." Woken by the collision she looked through the porthole and saw nothing but stars,
and went to bed again. Loud talk in the adjacent cabin made her nervous, so she dressed and went outside. She met
Roger Bricoux (of the Titanic orchestra) who told her she had to fetch her coat, all passengers had to change to another
steamer. He helped Bertha to put on her life-preserver and led her to the Boat-Deck. She entered a lifeboat (possibly
boat 12), which was lowered at 1.30 am. She recalled hearing three loud reports and then saw the ship break apart.
After arriving in New York she was brought to St. Vincent's Hospital. A few days later she travelled to her sister at
Central City, Iowa. From the American Red Cross she received clothing and $50.
In 1913 Bertha Lehmann married John Zimmermann. On 21 March 1914 a son, Elmer, was born to them. Her husband
died in World War I 1914 or 1915. She and her mother-in-law were at odds, so she moved back to her sister and later
to Pequot Lakes, Minnesota where she met her second husband Carl Luhrs (born 9 September 1892, died in Brainerd,
MN in January 1978). In 1917 they married in North Dakota and stayed there for four years. During that time a son and
two daughters were born one of whom - Ethel Patrick - was born 4 July 1919, died in Brainerd in June 1984.
Bertha and Carl then moved back to Pequot Lakes. In 1926 and 1931 another two daughters were born. The last
daughter was her sixth and last child. Her sister Marie and her brother Friedrich died in the thirties. Bertha
Luhrs-Zimmermann lived many years at her husbands farm in the southwest of Pequot Lakes. In summer 1965 she
travelled to Switzerland to meet her sister Ida Sägesser-Lehmann at Lotzwil, her birthplace.
On 5 December 1967 Bertha Luhrs died at St. Joseph's Hospital, Brainerd, Minnesota. She was buried at Wildwood
cemetery. She left 5 children, 14 grandchildren and 3 great-grandchildren.
Bertha Lehmann
Miss Bertha Lehmann, c.17, from Berne, Switzerland boarded the Titanic at Cherbourg as a second-class passenger.
She was travelling to Central City, Iowa to live with a sister, Mrs. Charles Zumbrunnen. She said her father, who
escorted her to the train station in Basel, Switzerland, expressed premonitions of disaster saying, "Bertha, every time
you come along with me I have some sort of bad luck, and I feel now like something is going to happen to you."
Bertha was impressed with how nice Second Class was on the Titanic. While she was sea-sick the first two days, she
finally left her cabin for lunch on Saturday, sharing a table with a young married couple and a man with two little boys,
Michel Navratil and his two sons. She conversed with the boys in French and the next day, Mr. Navratil asked her to
watch the boys while he played cards. He had thought that since she didn't speak English, his secret (that he was
stealing his sons from their mother) would be safe. This was the only known time he let them out of his sight.
On the night of Sunday 14th April, she read in bed before settling into a light sleep. She likened the impact to a train
"grinding to a very sudden stop." She eventually made her way to the lifeboats after realizing that while she couldn't
understand her fellow passengers they seemed excited and agitated.
Miss Lehmann was reported as having boarded the very last lifeboat (probably Collapsible D). She recalled hearing
three loud reports and then saw the ship break apart. She recalled her boat picking up at least three men from a
capsized lifeboat (Collapsible A).
Bertha lived with her sister for a year then married a man named Zimmerman. He was killed in World War I, leaving
her with a young son to raise. She moved back with her sister and they later moved to Minnesota. She met her second
husband, Carl Luhrs and they raised five more children. In her old age she lived around Dubuque.
She passed away in December 1967 at the age of 72.
André Clement Mallet
Name: Master André Clement Mallet
Born: Saturday 11th June 1910
Age: 1 years
Last Residence: in Paris France
2nd Class passenger
First Embarked: Cherbourg on Wednesday 10th April 1912
Ticket No. 2079 , £37 1d
Destination: Montreal Québéc Canada
Rescued (boat 10)
Disembarked Carpathia: New York City on Thursday 18th April 1912
Died: Saturday 22nd September 1973
Andre boarded the Titanic at Cherbourg as a second class passenger together with his parents Albert and Antoinine.
Albert and his wife, Antoinine, 24, and their 2 year old son André were returning to Montreal after visiting relatives in
France. The Mallets had planned to return on the France, but like so many others, "sold the tickets they had procured
to sail on Titanic", they boarded the ship at Cherbourg. They were on their way home to Montreal, Canada.
Master André survived the sinking together with his mother. They were rescued by the Carpathia, possibly in lifeboat
10.
Travelling with the Mallet's was a family friend, Emile Richard. Richard, 23. Albert and Emile perished in the
disaster. Antoinette Mallet and her son survived the sinking.
Madeleine Mellinger
Name: Miss Madeleine Violet Mellinger
Born: Wednesday 22nd February 1899
Age: 13 years
Last Residence: in Wimbledon London England
2nd Class passenger
First Embarked: Southampton on Wednesday 10th April 1912
Ticket No. 250644 , £19 10s
Destination: Bennington Vermont United States
Rescued (boat 14)
Disembarked Carpathia: New York City on Thursday 18th April 1912
Died: Thursday 27th May 1976
Journal
Sunday, April 14, 1912 1:00 p.m. Dear Diary,
I really enjoy being a passenger on the Titanic. Being here is a great honor. All I can say is wow. We boarded the
Titanic in Southampton on Wednesday, the 10th. It's just me and my mother traveling. We chose to take this trip on the
Titanic because my mother, Elizabeth Anne Mellinger, got a new job in Bennington, Vermont.
When I first saw the ship, I was shocked. I had heard about how large the ship was but I never actually thought about
how it would be in person. My mother told me that it is 882 feet long. When I went inside, I couldn't even believe my
eyes! I thought I must have been dreaming. It was so beautiful. Everything was so new. They call it "The Floating
Palace" because of the fancy restaurants, reception room and staterooms. There were so many people, too. As for the
rooms we’re aloud to go into, they’re all right. The rooms that really wow-ed me were the 1st class rooms. But, I do
like my room. It’s nice. Also, it’s better than the 3rd class room. I’d be awfully upset if I had to stay in a room like that.
When we first went in, we visited the boat deck which had the open boat space. This room was very nice. It had raised
roofs, benches, armrests, desks and lamps. I really enjoyed that, and plus all classes were allowed in here, so I could
make even more friends. After that, we went to Bridge B Deck. There, they had the second class smoking area. I didn’t
like it in there, it was very... well.. smoky. But I’d have to say, it was indeed nice. It was used for second class to smoke
and play cards. It had dark green Moroccan leather, linoleum tiles, a bathroom and majolica lights.
After visiting those two places, me and my mother continued on with Shelter C Deck. This held the second class
library. I enjoyed this room a lot. It was beautifully furnished with lounges, armchairs and writing- or card tables. It
served as the main lounge. It was also a place where people came to write post cards and to simply relax. Later on after
we looked through the books and things in the library, we went to Saloon D Deck. This had the second class galleys.
This room had work space and a place where meals were prepared and made. There were ovens, stockpots and hot
water. It was for 1st and 2nd class food.
After that, we visited Upper E Deck. This room had the second class cabins. they were used for sleeping and a place to
stay. It was sort-of nice, it had berths curtains, hot and cold water and boilers. The last room we visited was Shelter C
Deck. This was the Purser’s Office. It was used to purchase tickets for various things or sending telegrams. It had
many different offices. I enjoyed this room because it was nice and peaceful. Everyone was here to get one task done
and then to leave, nobody was loud and obnoxious. Finally, after visiting all the rooms, we went and ate.
They said the Titanic has enough food to feed a small town. On the menu, they had things like curried chicken and rice,
backed haddock with sharp sauce, spring lamb with mint sauce and roast turkey with cranberry sauce as their main
dishes. I had the curried chicken and rice and it was awfully good. Mom had the spring lamb and mint sauce. I do not
know how she could eat something as cute as a lamb, but she said it was good! There side dishes included things like
boiled rice, boiled and roasted potatoes, and plum pudding. I had the plum pudding because that’s my favorite. It was
also very good. Mom got roasted potatoes. She let me have some and I liked them a lot. The last thing we ate was
dessert. They had American ice cream, assorted nuts. They said the Titanic has enough food to
feed a small town. On the menu, they had things like curried chicken and rice, backed haddock with sharp sauce,
spring lamb with mint sauce and roast turkey with cranberry sauce as their main dishes. I had the curried chicken and
rice and it was awfully good. Mom had the spring lamb and mint sauce. I do not know how she could eat something as
cute as a lamb, but she said it was good! There side dishes included things like boiled rice, boiled and roasted potatoes,
and plum pudding. I had the plum pudding because that’s my favorite. It was also very good. Mom got roasted
potatoes. She let me have fresh fruit, cheese biscuits and coffee. I had some American ice cream and it tasted terrific.
Mom got fresh fruit, she says she’s on a diet.
My favorite part of the ship was the library on Shelter D Deck. I liked it a lot because it had so many books. I wanted
to read each and every one of them. I like reading so much. I plan on reading at least 5 books while on this trip.
Hopefully they have good books. I can’t wait to just sit down and read after all this excitement. My least favorite part
on the ship was the Bridge B Deck smoking room. This is only because it was too smoky and hard to breath. I won't
have to go in that room, thank goodness since of course I’m only 13 and I don’t smoke. The past days I’ve been on the
ship I’ve been helping my mother with unpacking our things and I have gotten a chance to pick out my first book
called “A New World Of Music.” Well, it’s now 2:30 and I think I’m going to go read some more of that book. See you
next time.
Sincerely,
Madeline Violet Mellinger
Sunday April 14, 1912 11:55 p.m.Dear Diary,
Today, I was woken up crushing noise from above me and a light swishing noise coming from underneath me. I was in
my cabin when I heard this noise. At first, I just brushed it off and thought it was nothing. But then, I heard people
running around out in the hallways and up on the higher decks. I wondered what it was. I started to worry. I was with
my mother when this happened. She just sat next to me and told me to go to sleep. I tried, but I simply couldn't. I heard
my mother step outside the door and ask a stoker what was the matter. I couldn't hear what he said but I assumed it
wasn't bad since mom just came back in and sat down. I wanted to know what was wrong, but I didn't ask. I just laid
there and hoped it was nothing. Now, I'm even more worried because I hear people outside saying something about an
ice berg and how the ship is sinking.
After a few, I heard mom pacing back and forth near the door. I was so scared. I didn't know if the people outside
talking about an ice berg were making up rumors or not. What if the ship really did hit an ice berg? Is it really sinking?
It can't be.. This ship is unsinkable.. Right? I looked up at the ceiling and wondered what was going to happen.
Later on, my mom asked a stoker again what was the matter. I couldn't handle not knowing anymore so I finally sat up
and asked her, "Mum, what is the matter?" She looked at me and said "Madeline, get dressed. We're going up to the top
deck." So, I quickly did as she said. I realized that the term "I was shaking in my boots," was a literal term in this case.
Well, we're about to go up now, I'm going to leave my journal here. Farewell.
Sincerely,
Madeline Violet Mellinger.
April 15, 1912- 12:45 a.m.Dear Diary,
I asked a steward to go back and get you for me because I feel more comfortable when writing in here. So now we're on
the deck. Mother is trying to get us onto a lifeboat. I'm scared. I can't believe that this ship was supposed to be
unsinkable, but here it is now, sinking. I'm frustrated because I don't understand why we can't just get a lifeboat. I don't
think that it should depend on your class if you get into a lifeboat or not. All we have to do now is wait like everyone
else in second class..
So we're sitting here watching the first class woman deny getting into lifeboats. I wish they'd let us get on since none of
them want to go. We want to get on so badly. I don't want to be on this ship still when it goes down. Nobody wants to
be. It's pretty quiet now but you can tell people are scared. You can see it in their faces. Mom tries to act like she's not
scared but I know she is, too. She tells me that we'll get a lifeboat soon and that we'll be okay. I find it hard to believe
her. I'm trying my best to be hopeful but to me this situation doesn't seem like it's going to end nice for me and my
mom. Here on starboard side, they're only letting first class woman and children.
Mother overheard a conversation happening between two other passengers about how apparently, on portside, they're
allowing everyone willing to go into the lifeboats. She grabs my hand and drags me all the way to the other side of the
ship and what do you know, she was right! Now, all we have to do is wait in line and hope that we get to a ship before
they're all taken up. I'm going to stop writing now so that I can cross my fingers! Bye!
Sincerely,
Madeline Violet Mellinger
April 15th, 1912- 1:20 a.m.Dear Diary,
Oh, look! We got a lifeboat. It's boat number 14 on Portside. I'm with my mother and my mom's new friend, Selena
Cook. She's fairly nice, actually. I'm so relieved that I'm on a lifeboat, now.
Looking at the huge ship, I feel slightly intimidated by its greatness. I look out at all the people still waiting to get into
the lifeboats and I feel so terribly bad for them. I wish we could pile each and every one of them onto a lifeboat and
save them all. It's scary to think that the lifeboats are almost all full and they're is still a great amount of people left on
the ship.
Mother says I should face myself away from the ship. She doesn't want me to see it go down. I don't want to see it,
either. I wish that none of this was true. I wish it was all just an awful joke they were playing on us and that nothing
was actually happening. But I knew it was true.
The ship was definitely listing. I was terrified that it would go down any second and I don't understand what these
people did to have this happen to them. Why? Why does this have to happen? I want to look away but I just can't. I
think about all the people who will be losing their life tonight. I want to run over there and save each and every one of
them but I know that I can't. All we can do is wait, again. I'm going to pray for everyone on that ship right now. I think
I'll stop writing for a while, my hand is cramping. Bye!
Sincerely,
Madeline Violet Mellinger
April 15, 1912 2:30 a.m.Dear Diary,
This is just awful. The Titanic is going to sink any moment, now. I can't even bare to look at the ship. I'm so lucky that
I got into a lifeboat.. If I were still on their I'm not sure what I'd do. There isn't much they can do, to be honest. Sitting
here watching the rockets scares me, every time it goes off it seems so unexpected.
In my lifeboat, there are 37 people. We aren't speaking much. Everyone is just sitting there silently. One of the other
passengers, Miss Daisy E, is so heartless and selfish. She's talking about how she just got a new dress and now it's
gone. Never mind the people who are going to lose their lives, she's too worried about her dress. I think that should be
the least of her worries right now..
Well anyway, mothers friend Selena Cook is really nice. She's trying to help me because she knows I'm scared. She
has cards in her bag and she was playing with me before. Mother and her are playing, now. I think it's nice that she's
trying to take my mind off of everything going on right now. She's a very sweet lady. Other than that, nobody is really
talking, Everyone is still in shock about how the "Unsinkable Ship" is now going to sink right before our eyes.
I heard that on the ship, they closed the gate in 3rd class and now none of them can get up on deck and into a lifeboat.
I can't believe they would do that, so many more lives could be saved if they were to let them up. A lot of woman aren't
going to leave there husbands. They are staying with them on the ship. They're saying things like "Wherever he goes,
I go." I personally find it very romantic that they're not going to leave each other's side.
I'm scared.. I'm going to go play another game of cards with Selena to get my mind off of this again. Farewell.
Sincerely,
Madeline Violet Mellinger
April 15, 1913Dear diary,
It has been one year since The Titanic sank.. Last time I wrote in here was a little before it happened. After it actually
sank, I was horrified. I didn't want to believe what had just happened. Waiting there, being unable to help, I felt so
useless. And then my lifeboat, boat #14, was the only boat to go back and try and save survivors. We saved 4 people,
one of whom died afterwards. I felt good that my boat had helped a few people, but I was still awfully depressed.
Why did this have to happen to all those innocent people? I didn't understand it. So, today, I'm trying to remember the
good things in life because I know that the passengers who lost their lives that night wouldn't have wanted us to be
depressed all of our lives. I got so very lucky that night, too, since my mother survived, too. I will pray for the families
of those who lost their loved ones and I can't imagine what I would have done if I'd lost my mother. I am blessed to still
have her here. I now have a whole new out-look on life. I understand now that anything can happen to anyone at any
time.
Well, Diary, I'm sure you're wondering what exactly happened and how we were rescued. We were rescued by a ship
named "The Carpathia" It was amazing, they had so many bags as if they'd expect us to all have our luggage. They
were so surprised when they found out it was only a few tiny lifeboats full of people. So, after they got us on the ship,
we headed for New York. When we got here, my mother rented a small hotel room for us. We were treated very nicely
here. I suppose they didn't care what class you were in this hotel.
Since the sinking, I've been a much more positive person. I try to make the best out of ever moment because I know
that it could unexpectedly be my last. I hope that all the other passengers who survived can do the same thing. I've used
this horrible experience to make something positive. I think that I've been able to deal with this pretty well because I
have my mother here to help me. I wouldn't have been able to deal with it without her. That's why I thank my mother
so very much and I'm so grateful to still have her in my life. In the future, I want to be a Captain on a ship this way I can
help prevent the mistake that happened that night. I feel like it's the least I could do. I think I'll go to bed now, it's
10:30pm. Goodnight!
Sincerely,
Ms Madeline Violet Mellinger
Mrs Adele Nasser
Name: Mrs Adele Nasser (née Achem)
Born: Saturday 19th March 1898
Age: 14 years
Last Residence: in Zahlah Lebanon
2nd Class passenger
First Embarked: Cherbourg on Wednesday 10th April 1912
Ticket No. 237736 , £30 1s 5d
Destination: Cleveland Ohio United States
Rescued
Disembarked Carpathia: New York City on Thursday 18th April 1912
Died: Tuesday 20th January 1970
Mrs. Nicholas Nasser (Nasrallah) (Adele Achem / Hakim), 14 (1), was born in Zahlah (Zahle), Lebanon on 19 March
1898, the daughter of Habib Hakim (2) and his wife Ator Achem (?Rose Gresati) from Zahle, Lebanon. She and her
husband Nicholas boarded the Titanic at Cherbourg as second class passengers. To reach their destination New York,
they bought ticket number 237736 for £30 1s 5d.
Mrs Nasser survived the sinking, whereas her husband did not. To the Immigration Officer she gave her destination as
Cleveland, Ohio, but unknown adress. This was given in the Senate's list as 652 Bolivia Road.
Adele Hakim Nasser was newly married to Nicholas Nasser and was pregnant. Her little boy was born on 9 December
1912 but died hours later.
She later remarried to Albert A. Shamaley who was born 15 May 1884 and died in a car accident in August of 1969.
She died in El Paso Texas on 20 January 1970. She was survived by her four chuldren and her sister Mary and brother
Richard who had also emigrated to America.
Edmond Navratil
Michel Navratil
Name: Master Edmond Roger Navratil
and
Michel Marcel Navratil
Born: Saturday 5th March 1910
Friday 12th June 1908
Age: 2 years
3 years
Last Residence: in Nice France
2nd Class passenger
First Embarked: Southampton on Wednesday 10th April 1912
Ticket No. 230080 , £26
Cabin No.: F2
Rescued (boat D)
Disembarked Carpathia: New York City on Thursday 18th April 1912
Died: 1953
Tuesday 30th January 2001
Master Michel Marcel. Navratil, 3, was born on 12 June 1908 in Nice, France. He boarded the Titanic at Southampton
with his father Michel and brother Edmond. The family was traveling under the assumed name of Hoffman, Mr.
Navratil had stolen his two sons from his estranged wife Marcelle.
He married Marcelle Caretto (died 1974), from Italy, in London, (District of Westminster), on 26 May 1907. They had
two sons, Master Michel M. and Edmond Roger (Lolo and Momon), however, by 1912 the business was in trouble and
Michel claimed that Marcelle had been having an affair. The couple separated, the boys going with their mother.
They went to stay with their father over the Easter weekend, but when Marcelle came to collect them, they had
disappeared. Navratil had decide to take the boys with him to America. After stopping in Monte Carlo, they sailed to
England where they stayed at the Charing Cross Hotel, London. He purchased second class tickets (ticket No.230080,
£26) and boarded the Titanic at Southampton, the boys being booked on as Loto and Louis. His assumed name of
"Louis M. Hoffman" was adopted from his friend Louis Hoffman, who helped him to leave France.
He led his fellow passengers to believe "Mrs. Hoffman" was dead and rarely let the boys out of sight. Once, he allowed
himself to relax at a card game and let one of his tablemates, Bertha Lehmann, a Swiss girl who spoke French but no
English, to watch the boys for a few hours.
“A magnificent ship!...I remember looking down the length of the hull - the ship looked splendid. My brother and I
played on the forward deck and were thrilled to be there. One morning, my father, my brother, and I were eating
eggs in the second-class dinning room. The sea was stunning. My feeling was one of total and utter well-being."
He described the events on the night of the sinking:
“My father entered our cabin where we were sleeping. He dressed me very warmly and took me in his arms. A
stranger did the same for my brother. When I think of it now, I am very moved. They knew they were going to die."
The boys were taken up to the boat deck where they were put in Collapsible D, the last boat to be launched. Michel, Jr.,
recalled that just before placing him in the boat, his father gave a final message, "My child, when your mother comes
for you, as she surely will, tell her that I loved her dearly and still do. Tell her I expected her to follow us, so that we
might all live happily together in the peace and freedom of the New World."
"I don't recall being afraid, I remember the pleasure, really, of going plop! into the life-boat. We ended up next to the
daughter of an American banker who managed to save her dog - no one objected. There were vast differences of
people's wealth on the ship, and I realized later that if we hadn't been in second-class, we'd of died. The people who
came out alive often cheated and were aggressive, the honest didn't stand a chance."
"We had our back to Titanic and went to sleep. The next morning, I saw Carpathia on the horizon. I was hauled
aboard in a burlap bag. I thought it was extremely incorrect to be in a burlap bag!"
Aboard the Carpathia, the boys, unable to speak English, were dubbed the Orphans of the Titanic, when they turned
out to be the only children who remained unclaimed by an adult. First Class survivor, Miss Margaret Hays agreed to
care for the boys at her New York home until family members could be contacted.
Marcelle Navratil, recognized her boys from newspaper stories and was brought over to America by the White Star
Line where she was reunited with her sons on May 16. The three sailed back to France on the Oceanic.
Michel went to university where he married a fellow student in 1933, he went on to earn his doctorate, becoming a
professor of psychology. In 1987, he returned to the U.S. for the first time since 1912 to mark the 75th anniversary of
the sinking. The last living male survivor, Michel lived in Montpellier, near Nice France. On 27 August 1996, Mr.
Navratil visited his father's grave for the first time in 84 years.
Michel Navratil died on 30 January 2001 at the age of 92
Michel Marcel Navratil
From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia
Michel Marcel Navratil, Jr. (June 12, 1908 – January 30, 2001), was one of the last survivors of the sinking of the
RMS Titanic on April 15, 1912. Michel, along with his brother, Edmond Navratil (1910-1953), were known as the
Titanic Orphans, having been the only children rescued without a parent or guardian. He was the last male survivor of
the Titanic.
Michel Marcel Navratil was born on June 12, 1908 in Nice, France to Michel Navratil, a tailor and Slovakian
immigrant to France, and Marcelle Caretto, an Italian, who had married in London. Michel had a younger brother,
Edmond Roger Navratil, who was born on March 5, 1910.
The marriage was troubled, and in early 1912, Michel and Marcelle separated. Marcelle was awarded full custody of
their two children. Marcelle allowed her sons to stay with their father over the Easter weekend; however, when she
went to collect them, they had disappeared. Michel had decided to emigrate to the United States and to take his
children with him. After a brief stay in Monte Carlo, the three traveled to England where they boarded the RMS
Titanic.
Michel, his brother, and his father boarded the RMS Titanic at Southampton, England on April 10, 1912, as
second-class passengers. For the journey, the elder Navratil assumed the alias 'Louis M. Hoffman', and the
boys were booked as 'Loto' and 'Louis'. On board the ship, Navratil led passengers to believe that he was a
widower. He let his sons out of his sight only once, when he allowed a French-speaking woman, Bertha
Lehmann, to watch them for a few hours while he played cards.
After Titanic's collision with an iceberg, at 11:40 p.m. on April 14, 1912, M. Navratil placed Michel and his brother in
Collapsible D, the last lifeboat successfully launched from the ship. Michel, although not quite four years old at the
time, later claimed to remember his father telling him: "My child, when your mother comes for you, as she surely will,
tell her that I loved her dearly and still do. Tell her I expected her to follow us, so that we might all live happily
together in the peace and freedom of the New World." The elder Navratil died during the sinking, and his body was
recovered by the rescue ship, CS Mackay-Bennett. In his pocket was a revolver. Because of his assumed Jewish
surname, Mr. Navratil was buried in Baron de Hirsch Cemetery, a Jewish cemetery, in Nova Scotia.
While in Collapsible D, Michel was fed biscuits by first-class passenger Hugh Woolner. When the rescue ship
RMS Carpathia arrived at the scene, Michel and his brother were hoisted to its deck in burlap sacks. Since the
two children were toddlers and spoke no English, they could not identify themselves and were soon referred to
as the Titanic Orphans. French-speaking first-class passenger Margaret Hays cared for the boys at her home
until their mother could be located, which occurred as a result of newspaper articles including their pictures.
Marcelle sailed to New York City, New York and was reunited with her sons on May 16, 1912. She took her
children back to France aboard the RMS Oceanic.
Michel attended college and in 1933 married a fellow student. He went on to earn a doctorate and became a professor
of philosophy. Throughout his life, Michel maintained that his brush with death at such a young age, coupled with the
loss of his father, strongly influenced his thought processes.
n 1987, Michel traveled to Wilmington, Delaware to mark the 75th anniversary of the sinking. It was his first visit to
the United States since 1912. The following year, Michel joined ten fellow survivors at a Titanic Historical Society
convention in Boston, Massachusetts. In 1996, Michel joined fellow survivors Eleanor Shuman and Edith Haisman on
a cruise to the location of the wreck, where attempts were made to bring a large portion of the ship's hull to the surface.
Before his return to France, Michel traveled to Nova Scotia to see the grave of his father for the first time.
Michel lived the remainder of his life in Montpellier, France. He died on January 30, 2001, at the age of 92.
 Michel's brother, Edmond, worked as interior decorator and then became an architect and builder. He joined
the French Army during World War II and became a prisoner-of-war. Although he escaped, his health had
deteriorated, and he died in 1953 at the age of 43.
 Michel's daughter, Élisabeth, an opera director, wrote a book, Les enfants du Titanic (literally "The Children
of the Titanic"; called Survivors in English) about the experiences of her father, grandfather, and uncle.
Winifred Quick
Phyllis Quick
Name: Miss Winifred Vera Quick
and
Phyllis May Quick
Born: Saturday 23rd January 1904
Tuesday 27th July 1909
Age: 8 years
2 years
2nd Class passenger
First Embarked: Southampton on Wednesday 10th April 1912
Ticket No. 26360 , £26
Destination: Detroit Michigan United States
Rescued (boat 11)
Disembarked Carpathia: New York City on Thursday 18th April 1912
Died: Thursday 4th July 2002
Monday 15th March 1954
Winnifred Quick
From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia
Winnifred Vera Quick was born in Plymouth, England in 1904 to Frederick Charles Quick, a plasterer, and his wife,
Jane Richards Quick. A second daughter, Phyllis May, was born on July 27, 1909.
In 1910, Winnifred's father decided to emigrate from England to Detroit to make a better life for his family. He
traveled alone, and would later send for his wife and daughters when he was financially secure. In the meantime, the
Quicks would live with Jane Quick's mother in Plymouth. By early 1912, Frederick was established and secure and
sent for his family. Soon after his wife booked passage for herself and their two daughters, she was notified that her
ship's sailing had been cancelled due to a coal strike, but that they would be transferred to the RMS Titanic which was
set to sail on April 10, 1912.[1]
Eight-year-old Winnifred, along with her mother and sister, boarded the Titanic as second-class passengers at
Southampton, England. On April 14, Winnifred and her family went to bed shortly after 9 p.m. Neither Winnifred, her
mother, or sister, felt the ship's collision with the iceberg at 11:40 p.m. It was only after a passenger knocked on their
cabin door telling them there had been an accident, did the Quick family realize something was wrong. Not thinking
the ship was seriously damaged, Jane took her time getting dressed. A steward peeked his head inside the cabin and
seeing how slow Jane was getting ready, demanded the family get their lifebelts on as the ship had struck an iceberg
and was sinking. [3] Winnifred and her sister were awakened and dressed, and along with their mother, walked up five
flights of stairs to A-Deck. On deck, an unknown gentleman helped calm Winnifred who was crying hysterically, and
fasted Phyllis with a lifebelt. Jane put Winnifred and Phyllis in Lifeboat No. 11, but she was initially denied entry
herself when the man in charge uttered, 'only room for the children'. Jane reportedly told him, 'either we go together or
we stay together'. He finally let her join her children; she was the last one allowed in the lifeboat, which according to
Jane, held roughly 50 people. Even in the lifeboat, Winnifred continued to cry until someone noticed her shoes had
fallen off and her feet were sitting in the freezing water.[4]
Winnifred finally fell asleep but was awoken when people around her cheered as the rescue ship RMS Carpathia
became visible. Winnifred and Phyllis were put in a sack and pulled to RMS Carpathia's deck. Winnifred later recalled
seeing many survivors weeping and even observed burial at sea for several passengers who had died in the
lifeboats.[5] Winnifred's father heard the news of Titanic's sinking, but received a wireless message that his wife and
daughters were safe. He was at the dock in New York on April 18, when the RMS Carpathia arrived. The Quicks spent
the night as guests of the Hebrew Sheltering and Immigrant Aid Society. The following morning, the Quicks left New
York City on the New York Express and arrived in Detroit on April 20.[6]
Winnifred's mother died in 1965, aged 84, and her sister, Phyllis, died in 1954.
In 1966, her husband retired and the two travelled throughout the USA, reportedly visiting every state except Hawaii.
When asked if she would ever make a return trip back to England, she replied "No! I don't like big boats! I like to go in
the water up to my neck but not on top of the water over my head!" [7] Although Winnifred didn't mind talking about
her experiences on the Titanic, she never attended any organized gatherings of Titanic survivors.[8]
Winnifred Van Tongerloo died on July 4, 2002 in East Lansing, Michigan, aged 98. She was one of the last five
remaining survivors, the last survivor who did not lose a relative in the sinking, and was preceded in death by her
husband, and two of her children.
William Richards
Sibley George Richards
Name: Master William Rowe Richards
Master Sibley George Richards
Born: Thursday 1st April 1909
Saturday 17th June 1911
Age: 3 years
9 months and 29 days
Last Residence: in Penzance Cornwall England
2nd Class passenger
First Embarked: Southampton on Wednesday 10th April 1912
Ticket No. 29106 , £18 15s
Destination: Akron Ohio United States
Rescued (boat 4)
Disembarked Carpathia: New York City on Thursday 18th April 1912
Died: Saturday 9th January 1988
Friday 4th December 1987
When the Titanic sank William Rowe Richards was aged 3 years. His last residence was in Penzance Cornwall
England. He boarded the Titanic as a 2nd Class passenger at Southampton on Wednesday April 10, 1912, Ticket No.
29106. Destination: Akron, Ohio.
William Rowe Richards survived the sinking (lifeboat 4) and was picked up by the Carpathia disembarking at New
York City on Thursday April 18, 1912.
He died January 9, 1988 from heart failure brought on by heart disease.
His mother, Mrs. Sidney Richards (Emily Hocking), 24, was born in Penzance, Cornwall, the daughter of confectioner
and baker, William Rowe Hocking and wife Mrs Eliza Needs Hocking. She lived with her family at 38 Adelaide
Street, Penzance.
Emily married Mr James Sibley Richards and moved to 'The Meadow', Newlyn. They had two sons, William Rowe
Richards (named after his maternal grandfather) and George Sibley Richards and a daughter, Emily. Her husband
subsequently emigrated to Akron, Ohio and she planned to join him there.
She boarded the Titanic at Southampton as a second class passenger with her two young sons under ticket number
29106, having been transeferred from the Oceanic. She traveled with her mother, Mrs Elizabeth Hocking, her brother
George Hocking and sister Nellie Hocking.
Emily Richards and Addie Wells had strolled the deck of the Titanic the night of the 14th, noticing how cold it was.
She had just put her children to bed and was about to go to bed herself when the Titanic collided with an iceberg.
After the collision, her mother rushed into her room and shook her. Mrs Hocking said "There is surely danger,
something has gone wrong." Mrs Richards and her other family members put on their slippers and outside coats and
dressed the children and then went up on deck in their nightgowns. As they went up the stairs a crewmember called out
that "Everyone put on life preservers." Mrs Richards returned to her cabin, as family members reassured themselves
that nothing was the matter. They returned to deck and were told to pass through the dining room to a rope ladder
placed against the side of the cabin that led to an upper deck. Mrs Richards, her two sons, her mother, and her sister
were pushed through a window into lifeboat 4. They were told to sit in the bottom of the boat. Some of the women tried
to stand after the boat pulled away, however the crewmen pushed them with their feet back into a seated position. The
boat was only a short distance away from the Titanic went it went down. The people in the boat pulled seven men out
of the water.
The Richards and Hockings hoped that George Hocking had been rescued by another ship, but this had not happened.
After leaving the Carpathia, the Richards stayed at Blake's Star Hotel at 57 Clarkson's Street in New York City and she
was reunited with her husband Sibley ("Sib") Richards who had travelled from Akron.
LYYLI SILVEN
Name: Miss Lyyli Karoliina Silvén
Born: Monday 11th June 1894
Age: 17 years
Last Residence: in Tornio Finland
2nd Class passenger
First Embarked: Southampton on Wednesday 10th April 1912
Ticket No. 250652 , £13
Destination: Minneapolis Minnesota United States
Rescued (boat 16)
Disembarked Carpathia: New York City on Thursday 18th April 1912
Died: Tuesday 5th February 1974
Lyyli Silvén was single woman from Northern Finland was immigrating to Minneapolis, MN with the help of her
aunt and uncle Anna and Rev William Lahtinen.They boarded the Titanic at Southampton as second class
passengers, Lyyli sharing a cabin with Anna Siukkonen. As the Titanic sank Lyyli saw the Lahtinens standing on the
boat deck while the boats were launched, according to Lyyli, she entered lifeboat 16,but the Lahtinen’s both died.
The following letters are from Jim Lyons, regarding his mothers cousin, Lyyli (or Lilli, or Lila). Jim notes that
"naturally, her memory has faltered." The accounts are in the form of typewritten notes written by her.
Her name is Lilli Silven, and her aunt and uncle who were lost were William and Anna Lahtinen. They were 2nd class
passengers from Finland.
The thing she was most emphatic about and mentioned first when I asked for her story was that
the Titanic broke in half and both ends turn up. She was quite concerned that this be known as apparently she
has hears [sic] otherwise all her life. The boilers exploded with much black smoke. The people in the lifeboats
were dirty from the smoke. She remembers the people swimming and screaming. Her lifeboat leaked and she
was sopping wet. Spent eleven hours in boat until picked up by the Carpathia. Kids in boat hollering for food.
Couldn't remember name of boat.
Party on Titanic night before. People drunk from party. Clearest memory of night before was a woman (young) in a
black dress who came in one door and danced alone and left again, presumable [sic] from party, which Lila didn't
attend. Felt boat jerk when it hit iceberg. Just ready to go to bed. In own bed when hit (She contradicts herself) Was in
bed & hit head. Jumped up and looked out window & saw ice. At first was thrilled because she thought it was snow.
Heard people start yelling and getting up. Looked for uncle & aunt & couldn't find. Ran back & forth down the big
hallways & it took her quite a while to find them. Uncle & aunt not excited. Christian,-nothingto [sic] worry about.
Knew they "were going to go" down. Lila was running around (I guess before she found U & A) holding life preserver.
A barber talked kindly (in English, which she didn't understand) to her and put her life preserver on her. Her uncle told
her to get on the life boat. Lila said, " I don't want to leave you. I don't want to be left alone". Uncle said, "No. You go."
Didn't want to get on boat but uncle told to because parents living. . He had a large cigar in his mouth. Uncle with help
put Lila in boat. Uncle & aunt didn't even try for the boat. (Women& children first). Wanted to die together. Didn't
want to leave each other. If ther [sic] was any hope anyone could be saved, Lila should get in boat. Had maybe one or
two sailors in boat. Rowed like crazy to get away from Titanic before it sucked them under. Could see U & A
standing on Titanic. Still had cigar in mouth. Could still see as boat sank.
Remember the ice on deck of Titanic & everyone scared terrible. Boat stopped and started to rock. Went forward a bit
& stopped again. Tilted. Uncle & sailors put in lifeboat. Lila fought to stay. Didn't know what to do. Saw uncle
standing with wife & cigar. Astors wife only one in boat. "Rich people." she said. "Listen, 60 years ago I was there.
Big waves all night. So cold. Calm in morning. People screaming worst part of boat. Didn't know where going. Ice
cold & wet. People swimming and screaming."
Remember band playing "Nearer my got to thee" as boat sank. Didn't like music they played in New York when
Carpathia landed. "Too sad." Played "Nearer my God to Thee" & she couldn't remember where she had heard it before.
Bertha Watt
Name: Miss Robertha Josephine "Bertha" Watt
Born: Monday 11th September 1899
Age: 12 years
Last Residence: in Aberdeen Aberdeenshire Scotland
2nd Class passenger
First Embarked: Southampton on Wednesday 10th April 1912
Ticket No. 33595 , £15 15s
Destination: Portland Oregon United States
Rescued (boat 9)
Disembarked Carpathia: New York City on Thursday 18th April 1912
Died: Thursday 4th March 1993
Miss Robertha Josephine Watt, 12, was born in Aberdeen, Scotland, on 11 September 1899, and was with her mother
Bessie Watt on Titanic bound for Portland, Oregon where they were to join her architect father.
They were originally booked on the New York, but because of the coal strike were transferred to the Titanic.
Aboard the ship Bertha befriended an English girl, Marjorie Collyer. They were rescued in lifeboat 9.
Twelve years old at the time, her most vivid memory was that she was roused from her sleep, and told to say her
prayers because the Titanic was in trouble. She wrote about the experience as a student in 1917 for the Jefferson High
School newspaper in which she claimed
"we heard many pistol shots, and could see people running hopelessly up and down the decks. Some in the
lifeboat were crying. One or two were hysterical. There was nothing anyone could do. We just kept on going.
We didn't row much, just enough to get far enough away from the suction. Then we puttered. We had just to
drift around until dawn, occasionally flicking a gentleman's cigar lighter to let the other boats see where we
were. The fellow at the tiller was an Irishman. Paddy had no authority, he was just a deckhand. He was
wonderful, telling me about the stars. It was calm. I don't remember sloping around in the boat. There was
nothing on the lifeboat but a keg of biscuits. No water, no liquor, no light. I don't know if the first class
lifeboats had all the things they needed, but if anyone was sick or collapsed in our boat, there was nothing to
revive them with. It showed the disorganization. We didn't find the rudder [sic] until we were out quite away.
I had a nightie tucked into a pair of panties, and house slippers. Luckily, I had a fur lined coat. They lined
them with squirrel bellies in those days, and it had a fur collar. They asked if anyone could row, and mother
said she could. That's how she spent the time. Rowing or standing. A minister appeared out from under a seat.
He must have gotten in before the the lifeboat even left the deck. He sat with his chin on his walking stick
moaning on about all the years of sermons he lost. One woman all but turned and flew at him - "if you can
give me back my husband and my son I'll pay you for your sermons." We didn't get aboard Carpathia until
about 9 a.m. There was a rope ladder with a belt. My mother said, "go on, you can climb that. I went up
without the belt." The captain roared down, "don't let anyone come up without a belt on."
She also recalled the sinking in an interview with the Vancouver Province, in which she spoke of her mother
reassuring her that if this were a nice night on Loch Ness you'd just be out for a row, and telling her, "don't worry
honey, you weren't born to be drowned, you were born to be hanged."
In 1923 Bertha Watt married a Vancouver doctor, Leslie Marshall, and moved to British Columbia, where she became
a Canadian citizen. She and her husband had two sons, James and Robert.
One of her most valuable possessions was the Titanic's second class passenger list. "A day out or so, passengers
were given booklets with the names of those in the same class," she said. "My mother had it in the pocket of her
tweed coat. When we were picked up by the Carpathia the officers borrowed it to radio the names of the second
class passengers to New York. "
Although she kept the list in a bank vault, it appears to have been stolen from her. It was not among her possessions
when she died in Vancouver on 4 March 1993.
She also recalled the sinking in an interview with the Vancouver Province, in which she spoke of her mother
reassuring her that if this were a nice night on Loch Ness you'd just be out for a row, and telling her, "don't worry
honey, you weren't born to be drowned, you were born to be hanged."
In 1923 Bertha Watt married a Vancouver doctor, Leslie Marshall, and moved to British Columbia, where she became
a Canadian citizen. She and her husband had two sons, James and Robert.
Robertha Josephine Watt: A True Survivor
www.freewebs.com/titanic-children/roberthajosephinewatt.htm
Why is it that often the most thrilling stories are the most overlooked? Of the multitudes of Titanic books and websites
I have perused over the years, very few have contained mention and none have contained so much as a photograph of
my favorite child survivor of the Titanic - Robertha Watt, a 12-year old Scottish girl who not only came through the
disaster, but left behind her a thrilling account, battled the shock that the tragedy left her with, led a vigorous, healthy
and happy family life, and lived to a ripe old age. Here is her story.
The life of Miss Robertha Josephine Watt, known to friends and family as 'Bertha,' began on September 11th 1899,
her birth date ironically foreshadowing that of a recent American tragedy with loss of life even greater than the one she
would come to survive. She and her mother, Elizabeth 'Bessie,' resided in Edinburg, Scotland, where their life was
dominated by devotion to the Congregational Church and long, pleasant boat rides on the waters of Loch Ness. Like so
many European citizens of the time, Robertha's architect father left Scotland for America to follow the age-old dream
of bringing family members to the 'New World,' and in April of 1912, his wife and daughter traveled to Southampton
to board a ship and join him. Again like many others, the Watts were originally booked on the New York, but due
to a coal shortage, they were transferred to the Titanic. The Watts traveled second-class.
In a 1950's letter to Walter Lord, author of the famous Titanic-related book A Night to Remember, Robertha recalls
a strange incident which occurred the afternoon she and her mother boarded the liner:
"A queer little incident happened that afternoon. I remember Mother and some ladies having some tea, and as
sometimes happened in those days, one of them read the teacups. Can't remember the lady's name, but in one cup she
said, 'I can't see anything; it's like there's a black wall and nothing beyond.' Quite a good prediction for so many.
Already, Robertha's young life is marked by warnings of what is to come. From her birth date to her fondness of
rowing in a small boat through wide black waters to the identity of the ship in which she was originally booked - the
same steamer which later nearly collided with and pierced the bow of the Titanic, as if in some dramatic act of revenge
for taking away so many of its passengers - many aspects of her life seemed to foreshadow an event which left scars
that she, unlike so many others, managed to heal through time.
Unlike many others who were awed by the ship's immense size and luxury, Robertha's mother seems not to have
been so impressed, judging from this letter she wrote on the Titanic on April 10th. She mailed it when the ship stopped
at Queenstown, Ireland, to pick up more passengers and postage.
"W.S.L Titanic Wednesday, April 10th, 7:05 p.m.
At last you will see we have started to cross the Atlantic. We have just taken on passengers at Cherbourg (France) and
tomorrow we go on to Queenstown (Ireland.) Oh dear, the style is awful. It seems it is not a fast boat; it is built for
comfort, not speed, and they say we won't be in till Wednesday night (the 17th.)"
Robertha and her mother occupied a stateroom with Ellen Mary Toomey, Rosa Pinsky and Marion Wright,
fellow middle-class women. During the long days at sea, Robertha soon tired of the adult's conversations, but
fortunately the 'ship of dreams' was a wonderland for an adventuresome, spirited girl of twelve. Teaming up
with her newfound friend, fellow survivor 8-year old Marjorie Collyer, the two roamed the decks for days on
end. It seemed Robertha also had a mature, refined side, as she could speak basic school French, and also
passed time babysitting young Marcel and Edmond Navratil, toddlers from Paris who also survived the
sinking.
Robertha slept through the collision, but her mother was awakened by the tremendous jolt of the Titanic hitting the
iceberg and the eerie silence that followed. Suspecting the worst, Elizabeth Watt threw on an overcoat, hurried out the
cabin and up the stairs, questioning the crew what was wrong. Despite their assurances that all was perfectly fine, she
went up on deck where she met a man from their hometown, who revealed to her that the ship had struck an
iceberg. (This man was probably Mr. Simon Kutscher, the only other passenger on board from Edinburg, who was lost
in the sinking.)
Elizabeth raced back to the cabin to rouse Bertha, whose most vivid memory was being jostled awake in the dead of
night and told to say her prayers, for the Titanic was in trouble. This nightmarish awakening from the
week-long nostalgia of a carefree Edwardian vacation was one that would haunt her for years. Mother and daughter
donned thick coats and, with their roommates, headed for the boat decks. As the company boarded Lifeboat
9, Robertha's mother comforted her, saying, "If this were a nice night on Loch Ness, we'd just be out for a row." The
girl also remembered this strange bit of cold 'comfort' from the same woman: "You weren't born to be drowned; you
were born to be hanged."
The following is an account of the tragedy written by Robertha Watt in an article for her High School Newspaper in
1917. I have interspersed it with accounts she gave in the 50's letter to Mr. Lord many years later; for sake of
identification, comments from the later account are underlined. These accounts are poignant in their accuracy and,
perhaps as the result of either childish exaggeration or keen observation, uncovers the rare treasures of incidents
recorded nowhere else. For a Titanic enthusiast, Robertha's account is unique in that it is free of prejudices or overly
emotional ramblings, merely recalling everything in sharp detail as a child would.
"We heard many pistol shots, and could see people running hopelessly up and down the decks. Some in the lifeboat
were crying. Others were hysterical. There was nothing anyone could do. We just kept going.
We didn't row much, just enough to get away from the suction. Then we puttered. We had to just drift around till
dawn, occasionally flickering a gentleman's cigar lighter to let the other boats know where we were. The fellow at
the tiller was an Irishman. Paddy had no authority, he was just a deckhand, but he was wonderful, telling me about
the stars. It was calm.
In charge of our boat was a fine old Irish seaman who did his best to keep folks in line ... By the time we got out
just a little way, the Titanic was really going down by the nose, so Paddy, as we called him, said, 'Row for all you're
worth or we'll be drawn down by the suction!' Two stewards were rowing, but it didn't look too experienced. Paddy
asked the others for help. We heard cries for help but we couldn't see too well where they were ... The part
regarding the sinking, how the ship broke apart in the middle and slid out of sight, is so plain to me that I could
draw pictures of it. I remember sitting or standing with my eyes glued to the spot, watching lights go out almost as if
I was hypnotized. Then all was calm and dark; up until them the lights of the ship gave some help, but as she sank
lower and lower, row after row of lights went out.
I don't remember sloping around in the boat. There was nothing in the lifeboat but a keg of biscuits. No water, no
liquor, no light. I don't know if the first-class lifeboats had all the things we needed, but if anyone was sick or
collapsed in our boat, there was nothing to revive them with. It showed the disorganization. We didn't find the
rudder until we were out quite a way.
I had a nightie slipped into a pair of panties, and house slippers. Luckily, I had a fur-lined coat. They lined them
with squirrel bellies in those days, and it had a fur collar.
They asked if anyone could row, and mother said she could. That's how she spent the time. Rowing or standing. A
minister appeared out from under the seat. He must have gotten in before the lifeboat even left the deck. He sat with
his chin on his walking stick moaning about all the years of sermons he had lost. One woman all but turned and
flew at him - "If you can give me my husband and son back I'll pay for your sermons.
We were near the stern of the boat and Paddy talked to me a great deal, told me about the stars, etc. but said they
had no compass and no rudder in this boat so all we could do was row a little and hope we would see something
coming. We had been told before we left the ship that this was all precautionary measures and the Olympic
(Titanic's sister ship) would be along shortly to pick us all up. So after a while I saw a light away in the distance and
called to Paddy. He answered that it wasn't a ship but one of our own boats who must be lucky to have a light. I
wanted to know how he could tell, and he said from the height above the water.
We didn't get aboard the Carpathia until about 9.a.m. There was a rope ladder with a belt. My mother said, "Go
on, you can climb that. I went up without the belt." The captain roared down, "Don't let anyone come up
without a belt on."
I climbed the rope ladder without a belt. I had always been good at athletics in school and I think that morning I
could have even climbed a single rope. But the Captain was very angry. We were all given hot toddy and a blanket,
and some slept wherever they found a spot.
At our table on Titanic was a very fine couple, Mr. and Mrs. Leopold Weisz ... He was one who never came home.
He had done a beautiful drawing in my autograph album, but alas, that went with all other things. That first day on
the Carpathia, she was in a bad way. My good mother must have walked miles with her up and down the decks
while the ship stayed around all day Monday hoping to pick more up. Well, Mom finally got her calmed down and
got her interested in helping a whole big table full of mothers and children who could not speak English. Madame
Weisz could speak seven languages so sat at this table every meal and ordered for these folk. A great tribute should
be paid her for her patience and help when her own heart was breaking."
The Irish deckhand, 'Paddy,' who kept Robertha's company on the lifeboat, was probably Mr. James. R. McCough, a
deckhand who survived the sinking in Lifeboat 9. His nickname was 'Paddy.' Although the last resided in England, he
was probably Irish in heritage due to his Irish-sounding name and nickname. Additionally, the woman who 'all but
flew' at the minister was probably Mrs. Jane Herman, due to her emotional status and the fact that she was the only
woman in Lifeboat 9 who lost both her husband and her (adpoted) son, 14-year old George Sweet. Hot toddy, which
Robertha recalls eating on the Carpathia, was a drink consisting of whiskey, brandy, and other liquors mixed with hot
water, sugar and spices. Autograph albums, such as the one Robertha mentions, were albums in which many
sophisticated young girls in the Victorian and Edwardian eras would collect autographs, poems and pictures from
friends and acquaintances.
The sinking, at first, had a great impact on Robertha, who as Elizabeth recalls was still in a bad state of shock on the
Carpathia and went off eating for several days. There was so little room on the crowded rescue ship that the Watts had
to sleep in the sailor's quarters. Because mother and daughter had lost nearly all their clothing on board the ship,
Elizabeth stitched together a crude skirt made out of blankets for Robertha. Makeshift clothing sewn together with
scraps was a common sight on board the Carpathia, as teams of both wealthy high-class ladies like Daisy Spedden
and hardworking immigrants like Emily Goldsmith worked to replace the clothing their children had lost. (In fact,
there is a well-known picture of 3-year old William Rowe Richards wearing a ragged pair of pyjamas sewn from
a quilt donated by a Carpathia passenger.)
When the survivors reached New York City, Elizabeth and Robertha were met by Mrs. Watt's brother, Mr. James
Milne, who was infuriated at how badly they had been neglected in the lifeboat and later wrote in the Newark Evening
News,
"Their dresses, constructed of blankets, were cut to fit the figure very crudely. Neither of them had shoes on when
placed in the lifeboats. The story my sister tells me is outrageous and shows negligence which is worse than criminal."
One of the Watts' roommates, Miss Marion Smith, who was engaged but had lost the address of her fiance on
the Titanic, was invited to board with the Wattses until her husband-to-be could be located. The two lovers were soon
reunited and married, with Elizabeth Watt as the bridesmade and James Milne giving Marion away. Robertha and her
mother kept up a strong relationship with the new Mrs. Marion Woolcott and her husband for the rest of their lives,
attending all the births of the Woolcott's sons. Robertha kept up the friendship after her mother's death in 1951.
In 1923, after graduating from college, Robertha married a Canadian dentist, Leslie Marshall, and they moved to
Vancouver, British Columbia. Robertha soon became an official Canadian citizen. They later had two sons, James and
Robert. Unlike many survivors, she was not scarred for life after the disaster, but would rather have forgotten the
whole thing and gotten on with her life. In fact, completely unafraid of water, she and Leslie often sailed the coastal
waters of the Pacific throughout their married life. In 1985, when a reporter attempted to tie her in with the
propaganda surrounding the discovery of the Titanic's wreck, she officially shunned publicity and fame in favor of a
more quiet family life, responding to them, "I don't give a damn."
However, she wrote to Mr. Lord regarding his book A Night to Remember in the 1950's, she was emphatic in her
criticism of J. Bruce Ismay, a Titanic passenger who also happened to be a high-ranking member of the White Star
Line which had constructed the ship. Ismay's escape, probably in one of the last lifeboats to be lowered (despite what
Robertha claims here), remained highly controversial for years, with many branding him a coward and believing he
ought to have gone down with the ship. Robertha said:
"How this has been a point of anger to me over the years, it's hard to explain. In one inquiry, Ismay was picked
up by the Carpathia a good two to three hours ahead of us. Mr. Ismay was all tucked away in bed in a cabin long
before half of us were landed on the Carpathia. Now they try to tell people how brave he was andhow he helped
women into boats and only went into the last boat under pressure; well, we never saw him and we knew some of the
people in the last boats off and he wasn't there either. So no one will ever whitewash him from me."
One of Robertha's most treasured possessions would always be a second-class passenger list she had salvaged from
the Titanic. "A day or so out, passengers were given booklets with the names of those in the same class," she would
recall. "My mother had it in the pocket of her tweed coat. When we were picked up by the Carpathia, the officers
borrowed it to radio the names of the second class passengers to New York." Although Robertha kept the list securely
locked in a bank vault, it unfortunately appears to have been stolen from her. It was not among her possessions when
she died at the age of 94 on March 3rd, 1993, and faded into obscurity as just another name on the Titanic's passenger
list.
Joan Wells
Ralph Wells
Name: Miss Joan Wells
Master Ralph Lester Wells
Born: Wednesday 26th February 1908
Wednesday 15th December 1909
Age: 4 years :
2 years
Last Residence: in Heamoor Cornwall England
2nd Class passenger
First Embarked: Southampton on Wednesday 10th April 1912
Ticket No. 29103 , £23
Destination: Akron Ohio United States
Rescued (boat 14)
Disembarked Carpathia: New York City on Thursday 18th April 1912
Died: Monday 10th July 1933
Wednesday 27th September 1972
Joan Wells, summer 1912
Ralph Wells, summer 1912
Miss Joan Wells, 4, was born on 26 February 1908 in the Strand, Newlyn, Cornwall. The daughter of Arthur Henry
Wells (Railway Conductor) and Addie Trevaskis Wells .
Joan accompanied her mother and brother Ralph on the Titanic traveling to her father who had previously moved to
live in Akron, Ohio.
In 1912, after leaving her home in Nevada Place, Heamoor, Addie was to join her husband and brother in Akron. She
had sold her household furnishings before leaving, but had brought her family linen with her. The linen included
pieces inherited from her mother and grandmother. She boarded the Titanic at Southampton traveling second class
with her two young children ( ticket 29103, £23). They had been originally due to have travel on the Oceanic but
were transferred due to the coal strikes.
The account of the sinking was told by her mother.
MRS. ADDIE WELLS THOUGHT IT WAS BOAT DRILL UNTIL SHE SAW OFFICER'S PISTOL
Akron Beacon Journal
Saturday 20 April 1912
She and her children were well asleep when the Titanic struck the iceberg. She awoke to a tremendous jolt. She heard
a commotion and a friend yelled "Dress quickly: there's some trouble I believe, but I don't know what it is." Having
dressed the children she tried to get them to the boat deck but found many of the doors leading to the boat deck had
been locked, she searched frantically until she found one that was unlocked. She would later admit that she did not
realize the seriousness of the situation and thought it was some sort of drill. "'An officer was shouting "Come on here,
lively now, this way, women and children." She was grabbed by someone who told her, "This way," and she and her
family were put into lifeboat 14. As the boat pulled away, she saw steerage men rushing up on deck, other men
standing back and watching them soberly, and an officer with a revolver in his hand. She had been told to lie down in
the bottom of the boat and not make any disturbance as there was trouble enough. She could hear faint cries from the
Titanic and several shots. She claimed that the officer shouted to third class men crowding toward the boat, "Stand
back there now, the first word out of you and I'll...." (she missed the rest). There were so many people in her boat 14,
Addie Wells could not sit down. Instead, she held her children in her skirts to keep them dry. Also in the boat was Mrs.
Agnes Davis and her son John Morgan Davis. Mrs. Davis was as confused as Mrs.Wells and asked her "what it was all
about."
When the ship went down, people could still be heard screaming as they had been locked in their rooms. A memory
that would cause Addie to have nightmares for years. The Wells' spent the night in the boat and were picked up at
daybreak. On the Carpathia, she refused to sleep below and supposedly they slept on deck.
Both Joan and her brother, Ralph, lived in Akron until their deaths, Joan on 11 July 1933, aged 24 and Ralph 27
September 1972, aged 62.
Constance West
Barbara West
Name: Miss Constance Mirium West
and
Miss Barbara Joyce West
Born: Tuesday 13th August 1907
Wednesday 24th May 1911
Age: 4 years
10 months and 22 days
Last Residence: in Bournemouth Dorset England
2nd Class passenger
First Embarked: Southampton on Wednesday 10th April 1912
Ticket No. 34651 , £27 15s
Destination: Gainesville United States
Rescued (boat 10)
Disembarked Carpathia: New York City on Thursday 18th April 1912
Died: Thursday 12th September 1963
Tuesday 16th October 2007
Constance West
Barbara West
Miss Constance Mirium West was born in Bristol, Somerset in 1907. The daughter of Mr Edwy Arthur West and Mrs
Ada Mary West. She travelled on Titanic in second class with her mother and father and sister, Barbara West.
She survived the sinking aboard lifeboat 10 and returned to Truro with her mother and sister, having come back to
England aboard the Celtic.
She remained in Cornwall for the rest of her life and died in Penzance in 1963.
Mrs. Barbara Dainton (nee West)
[Since this article was published Mrs Dainton has died (16th October 2007).]
Mrs. West is now 96 years old and is living in the English County of Cornwall. Mrs. Dainton has had a very busy and
full life and at one time was a visitor guide in Truro Cathedral where there is a memorial to her father who was lost in
the disaster. Sadly she is now incapacitated and needs full care.
Mrs. West always refused to discuss the Titanic disaster and with just a couple of exceptions she wanted ‘’nothing to
do with Titanic interested people’’.
Barbara Joyce West was born in Bournemouth, England on 24 May 1911 to c
Barbara, her parents, and older sister, Constance, boarded the Titanic on 10 April 1912 at Southampton, England as
second-class passengers. Barbara was just 10 months and 18 days old making her the second youngest passenger on
board.
When the Titanic collided with an iceberg at 11:40 p.m. on 14 April 1912 Barbara was asleep in her cabin. Her mother,
Ada, later recalled:
We were all asleep when the collision took place, but were only jolted in our berths-my husband and children
not even being awakened, and it was only the hurrying of passengers outside the cabin that caused alarm. The
steward made us all get up and dress thoroughly with plenty of warm things. Arthur placed lifebelts upon the
children and then carried them to the boat deck. I followed carrying my handbag. After seeing us safely into
the lifeboat, Arthur returned to the cabin for a thermos of hot milk, and, finding the lifeboat let down, he
reached it by means of a rope, gave the (Thermos)flask to me, and, with a farewell, returned to the deck of the
ship.
Arthur West perished on the cruise liner while his wife and children sang songs to drown out his screams. In doing so
he nobly passed up the chance to join them and instead watched as two foreign men snuck on board and hid under the
skirts of women passengers. His distraught widow then watched in shock as some survivors drank champagne on the
rescue ship.
The paper Mining World said of Arthur West:
'It is impossible to write without emotion of the conduct of this heroic Cornishman who unquestionably
might have saved his life had he chosen to take the place that, we suppose, was subsequently occupied by one
of the women saved. Of such heroes the world is not worthy. Arthur West may be one of the least known of
the Titanic heroes, but none will deny him the distinction of being one of the noblest'.
The artifacts, including the ancient flask, letters detailing Mrs. West's account of the sinking, and a letter written on
board Titanic four days before by Mr. West, and still in the family, were made public for the first time 97 years after
his death.
In the letter he states that it had been an enjoyable voyage thus far with "scarcely a movement felt" adding: "I hope
we have a calm trip....till we reach our journeys end."
Afterwards, Ada and Constance, five, and Barbara, who was 10-months-old, returned to Britain but barely spoke about
the disaster.
The archive was handed down to Barbara who was the last but one British survivor of the Titanic when she died aged
96 in 2007. It is now being auctioned.
In her letters and account Mrs. West said: "The experiences I have been through with all the other poor creatures have
been enough for two life times.
"We were among the first to leave the ship. Arthur placed lifebelts upon the children then carried them onto the boat
deck.
"After seeing us safely into the lifeboat Arthur returned to the cabin for a Thermos of hot milk and finding the lifeboat
let down he reached it by means of a rope, gave the flask to me, and, with a farewell returned to the deck of the ship."
Unbeknown to the two crew members in charge of the lifeboat, Japanese passenger Masabumi Hosono, 41, and Turk
Neshan Krekorian, 25, had crept on board
Mrs. West wrote: "There were men in our boat who had concealed themselves under the ladies skirts and had to be
asked to stop lighting cigarettes as there was a danger of the dresses becoming ignited."
She added: "It was only when I saw the ship sink and heard the awful cries and groans from the poor drowning
creatures that I felt the least bit of fear as to his safety.
"There was no suggestion of going back to the ship when she sank and drowning people was heard.
"The steward who seemed to be in charge called out 'Pull up men – they're singing in the other boats. Give them a
shout!'.
"The noise they made drowned all the cries and we gradually drew away from the scene of the wreck."
Ada West died aged 74 in 1953 and Constance West died in 1963 aged 56.
There is a memorial tablet at Truro Cathedral in honor of Edwy Arthur West, whose body was never recovered.
Barbara, her mother, and sister, all survived the sinking and were picked up by the rescue ship, RMS Carpathia. Her
father's body, if recovered, was never identified.
The surviving West family arrived in New York City aboard the RMS Carpathia on 18 April. Upon their arrival, Ada
booked passage for herself and her daughters aboard the White Star Line's RMS Celtic. The ship arrived at Liverpool,
England on May 6 and Ada gave birth to a third daughter, Edwyna Joan, on 14 September.
Ada died on 20 April 1953 at the age of 74 and Constance died on 12 September 1963 at the age of 56. Little is known
about Barbara's sister, Edwyna.
As a child, Barbara attended the Worshipful Boarding School in Purley, England and went on to attend the Truro High
School all girls' school and St. Luke's College in Exeter.[2] After college, Barbara became a governess to a Cornish
family and moved with them to Spain until the outbreak of the Spanish Civil War in 1936. After returning to England,
Barbara taught at a high school in Guildford, England.
In the 1950s, Barbara starting teaching at a Truro, England school and later became deputy head of physical education
at a Plymstock school until 1972.
In 1938, Barbara married Stanley Winder, a rugby-player. The two were married for 13 years before Stanley died of a
heart attack in 1951. Barbara was married to her second husband, William Ernest Barrel Dainton from 1952 until his
death in 1990.
Throughout her life, Barbara avoided all publicity associated with the Titanic. As she aged and became one of only a
handful of living survivors, interest in Barbara's story grew, but she refused to discuss the disaster outside her family
circle often saying she wanted 'nothing to do with the Titanic people'. She did, however, communicate sparingly with
the British Titanic Society, but such communication was heavily guarded.
Her later years saw her living in Truro, England where she volunteered as a guide at the Truro Cathedral where lies a
memorial tablet to her father. Shortly before her death, Barbara became incapacitated and required full-time care.
Barbara died on 16 October 2007 in Truro, England at the age of 96. Her funeral was held 5 November at the Truro
Cathedral. To avoid unwanted attention and maintain privacy, Barbara insisted that her funeral take place before any
public announcement of her death. Barbara's death made Millvina Dean, then 95, of Southampton, England, the last
living survivor of the Titanic sinking. Millvina Dean died 19 months later.