I'll continue with Belle Boyd, in a week or so. But now, I just wanted to share a bit about one of the many ships that I have found so fascinating. The Atlantic. Which, by the way, was also built by the same ship line as as the Titanic. The White Star Line.
The Atlantic was built by Harland and Wolff in Belfast, Ireland in 1870, and was the second ship built for the newly reborn White Star Line. She was powered by a steam engine producing 600 horsepower (447 kW) driving a single propeller, along with four masts rigged for sail. She set sail on her maiden voyage for New York on June 8, 171.
On March 20, 1873 the Atlantic departed on her 19th voyage from Liverpool with 959 persons onboard, of whom 835 were passengers. En route, the crew decided to make port at Halifax, Nova Scotia, to replenish coal for the boilers.
During the approach to Halifax on the evening of March 31 the captain and 3rd officer were on the bridge until midnight, while the Atlantic made her way through a storm, proceeding at 12 knots (22 km/h) for Terence Bay, Nova Scotia, experiencing limited visibility and heavy seas. Unbeknownst to the crew or passengers, the Atlantic was approximately 20 kilometres off-course to the west of Halifax Harbour.
At 2:00 local time on April 1 1873, the Atlantic struck an underwater rock called Marr's Head 50 metres from Meagher's Island, Nova Scotia. Lifeboats were lowered by the crew but were washed away as the ship began to sink, killing 546. The ship's manifest indicates there were 156 women and 189 children on board (including two who had been born during the voyage). All perished except for one boy, John Hindley. Every member of the crew survived. Several sources put the survivor count between 371 and 413. This was the worst civilian loss of life in the Northern Atlantic until the wreck of Norge on Rockall on 28 June 1904. The Canadian government investigation was concluded with the statement, "the conduct of Captain Williams in the management of his ship during the 12 or 14 hours preceding the disaster, was so gravely at variance with what ought to have been the conduct of a man placed in his responsible position".
Today, most of the ship still lies under 15 to 90 feet of water. The RMS Atlantic was the second liner commissioned by White Star (Oceanic being first) but carried the notoriety of being the first White Star Line steamer to sink.
After the wreck, as the bodies were recovered and prepared for burial, it was discovered that one of the crew members was actually a woman, between 20 and 25 years old. According to a newspaper account at the time, she "had served as a common sailor for three voyages, and her gender was never known until the body was washed ashore and pre pared for burial. She is described as having been a great favorite with all her shipmates, and one of the crew, speaking of her, remarked: 'I didn't know Bill was a woman. He used to take his grog as regular as any of us, and was always begging or stealing tobacco. He was a good fellow, though, and I am sorry he was a woman.' It is said that the poor thing was an American, and, among the crew, perhaps the only one of that nationality." *
*Answers. com
Thursday, May 31, 2007
Saturday, May 26, 2007
Belle Boyd, part 2
Here is the second part of Belle Boyd's story, Isabella's hero!
...Her birthplace was the Shenandoah Valley, whose rolling hills, "broad, clear, rapid streams," silver maples, and rocky borders Belle pictured in affectionate memory. Her native town of Martinsburg, then in Virginia, now West Virginia, lay in a peaceful area which eventually exploded in action and shifted from Southern to Northern hands. As Belle later told a Chicago interviewer, she came of a "well known family of Virginia," having ties among the best in the state." The Boyds traced themselves back to an ancient Scottish clan; they had highly placed kin in New Orleans and parts of Kentucky, and a family connection with George Randolph, later Confederate Secretary of War. Although Belle was reluctant to admit it, her branch of the Boyds had done less well than others. Her father ran a store and managed a tobacco farm. To her English admirers Belle described an idyllic childhood in a "pretty two-storied house," its walls "hidden by roses and honeysuckle." Idyllic it may have been, for a relative recalled that Belle had been a reckless tomboy who climbed trees, raced through the woods on a nettlesome mount, and dominated brothers, sisters, and cousins. It is said that her mild-mannered mother never disciplined her; what little Miss Boyd wished to do, she did. There is a story that when she made a visit to Tennessee relatives she encountered a stricter home regime and, to her surprise, liked it, "although it was the first time in her life she ever had to conform to family rules." She did not conform for long; in her own phrase, she preferred to be ''on the go. Despite their lack of money, the Boyds gave their daughter a good education. After some preliminary schooling, she was sent at the age of twelve to the Mount Washington Female College at Baltimore. A minister was head of the college, hut despite his influence Belle remained "on the go." At sixteen her training was ''supposed to be completed," and her family and friends arranged a debut in Washington. Cousins made certain that the tall, graceful girl met the proper hostesses and received invitations to the best affairs. Secretary of War Floyd, soon to join the Confederacy, was one in whose drawing rooms Belle became a favorite. For the impulsive adolescent the waltzes and cotillions, the bright conversations with uniformed officers, judges, and senators were a heady experience. The season was that of late 1860, however, and more and more often she heard the echoes of clashes over slavery's extension. Then came secession. With Sumters fall Belle headed home for Martinsburg, "enthusiastic in my love for my country, the South." There she discovered that her forty-four-year-old father had volunteered for military service. Sedentary, highly unmilitary, Ben Boyd nevertheless insisted on taking his part in the war. Offered "that grade in the army to which his social position entitled him," he had instead enlisted as a private. Beside younger and more hardy men, Ben was to suffer greatly in the war; but Belle reacted with hearty approval, contributing to town funds for his regiment, the 2nd Virginia, and joining other Confederate causes as they sprang up. To nobodys surprise, she soon found these employments too tame and monotonous to satisfy my temperament." When her father went to the camp at Harpers Ferry, she helped organize a festive visiting party. Officers and men were and joyous," she wrote, and "many true hearts" were pledged. To this Belle added: "A true woman always loves a real soldier." Not yet seventeen, Miss Boyd considered herself a "true woman." So, perhaps, did others. Observers did not always agree about her looks, for while some considered her beautiful, or at least handsome, a few noted that she had a prominent nose, and ultimately Northern and Southern journalists would debate the momentous issue: did Belle have freckles, or didn't she? One man said that her face possessed "too much character in it to be called merely pretty." Still, Belle had shining blue eyes, a heavy head of light brownish hair, and, last but not least, a fine figure which many commented on, despite Victorian proprieties. Early in July 1861, Ben Boyds regiment prepared for battle, and sorrowfully the girl and her mother bade him good-by, and returned to Martinsburg. The 2nd Virginia met Union forces and fell back; still more sorrowfully Belle watched as her father and his comrades retreated through the home town...
I know that I ought to put it into italic, but I find that hard to read, so you'll just have to live with regular handwriting! More to come!
...Her birthplace was the Shenandoah Valley, whose rolling hills, "broad, clear, rapid streams," silver maples, and rocky borders Belle pictured in affectionate memory. Her native town of Martinsburg, then in Virginia, now West Virginia, lay in a peaceful area which eventually exploded in action and shifted from Southern to Northern hands. As Belle later told a Chicago interviewer, she came of a "well known family of Virginia," having ties among the best in the state." The Boyds traced themselves back to an ancient Scottish clan; they had highly placed kin in New Orleans and parts of Kentucky, and a family connection with George Randolph, later Confederate Secretary of War. Although Belle was reluctant to admit it, her branch of the Boyds had done less well than others. Her father ran a store and managed a tobacco farm. To her English admirers Belle described an idyllic childhood in a "pretty two-storied house," its walls "hidden by roses and honeysuckle." Idyllic it may have been, for a relative recalled that Belle had been a reckless tomboy who climbed trees, raced through the woods on a nettlesome mount, and dominated brothers, sisters, and cousins. It is said that her mild-mannered mother never disciplined her; what little Miss Boyd wished to do, she did. There is a story that when she made a visit to Tennessee relatives she encountered a stricter home regime and, to her surprise, liked it, "although it was the first time in her life she ever had to conform to family rules." She did not conform for long; in her own phrase, she preferred to be ''on the go. Despite their lack of money, the Boyds gave their daughter a good education. After some preliminary schooling, she was sent at the age of twelve to the Mount Washington Female College at Baltimore. A minister was head of the college, hut despite his influence Belle remained "on the go." At sixteen her training was ''supposed to be completed," and her family and friends arranged a debut in Washington. Cousins made certain that the tall, graceful girl met the proper hostesses and received invitations to the best affairs. Secretary of War Floyd, soon to join the Confederacy, was one in whose drawing rooms Belle became a favorite. For the impulsive adolescent the waltzes and cotillions, the bright conversations with uniformed officers, judges, and senators were a heady experience. The season was that of late 1860, however, and more and more often she heard the echoes of clashes over slavery's extension. Then came secession. With Sumters fall Belle headed home for Martinsburg, "enthusiastic in my love for my country, the South." There she discovered that her forty-four-year-old father had volunteered for military service. Sedentary, highly unmilitary, Ben Boyd nevertheless insisted on taking his part in the war. Offered "that grade in the army to which his social position entitled him," he had instead enlisted as a private. Beside younger and more hardy men, Ben was to suffer greatly in the war; but Belle reacted with hearty approval, contributing to town funds for his regiment, the 2nd Virginia, and joining other Confederate causes as they sprang up. To nobodys surprise, she soon found these employments too tame and monotonous to satisfy my temperament." When her father went to the camp at Harpers Ferry, she helped organize a festive visiting party. Officers and men were and joyous," she wrote, and "many true hearts" were pledged. To this Belle added: "A true woman always loves a real soldier." Not yet seventeen, Miss Boyd considered herself a "true woman." So, perhaps, did others. Observers did not always agree about her looks, for while some considered her beautiful, or at least handsome, a few noted that she had a prominent nose, and ultimately Northern and Southern journalists would debate the momentous issue: did Belle have freckles, or didn't she? One man said that her face possessed "too much character in it to be called merely pretty." Still, Belle had shining blue eyes, a heavy head of light brownish hair, and, last but not least, a fine figure which many commented on, despite Victorian proprieties. Early in July 1861, Ben Boyds regiment prepared for battle, and sorrowfully the girl and her mother bade him good-by, and returned to Martinsburg. The 2nd Virginia met Union forces and fell back; still more sorrowfully Belle watched as her father and his comrades retreated through the home town...
I know that I ought to put it into italic, but I find that hard to read, so you'll just have to live with regular handwriting! More to come!
Thursday, May 24, 2007
Belle Boyd, Part 1
I have always enjoyed reading about Belle Boyd, a cool Confederate spy. Maybe that's because she reminds me of my character, Isabella! Even though she was for the south, she led a very interesting life. But here is the start of a big long thing about her:
Belle Boyd, Cleopatra of the Secession
Belle Boyd played the role of spy as if the war were a lighthearted game of charades. And she lived as if she were fashioning her days into the plot of a romantic story. During her lifetime she could have read about herself in at least two historical novels, although neither did justice to her dashing exploits. The zestful Miss Boyd became an espionage agent when she was seventeen, and served the Confederacy throughout the war, in Dixie, the North, and England as well. She matched the boldness of any man, galloping headlong into the dark with cipher messages, or creeping into rooms to eavesdrop on Union Army conferences. On at least one occasion (when she could persuade none of the men to do it for her), she daringly entered battle lines to carry back important information. But Belle Boyd was above all overwhelmingly feminine; she made good use of her womanly appeal, of which she had an enormous amount. Unlike others who impersonated the inconspicuous female and made themselves up as a drab housewife or dowdy traveler, this spy played her own personality to the hilt, with a dramatic air and sweeping gestures, wearing rich reds and greens and feathers in her hat. Belle had a "joyous recklessness," as one reluctant admirer phrased it. She looked at men through her long lashes, assuring them that she had no intentions hostile to the North, while she stole whatever secrets were at hand and filched others practically from their pockets. Belle possessed at least one additional asset--perhaps the best pair of legs in the Confederacy. Even a lady must get in and out of a carriage or with a flurry of petticoats dismount from a home; at such times Miss Boyd showed a pretty confusion, and very fine ankles. Her actions were puzzling to her opponents, for at times she seemed cunning, at others naive. Always an individualist, she spied "by ear," after her own special fashion. Belle obviously did not believe in the virtues of silence, for what she thought, she generally said. Despite her failings, she proved a remarkably good agent. Belle Boyd loved the South passionately. After the war she said she had never "had a consciousness that I was a spy. I only wanted to help my people." Nevertheless, as Carl Sandburg has observed, she could have been "legally convicted and shot at sunrise on the basis of the evidence against her. Yet Belle had critics among Southerners themselves. She traveled alone, to the horror of more conventional women. A "brilliant talker," she conversed easily with anyone she met, and her lack of self-consciousness in the company of men was unusual in a woman of her class. She shocked her conservative friends by visiting camps, calling on generals and colonels in their tents, and accepting carriage rides in the warm afternoons. She even danced and flirted with Northerners as well as Southerners. When she bothered to defend herself, Belle said that it was necessary for her to be on good terms with both sides. Yet, there was no doubt that Miss Belle liked the boys in blue as well as those in gray. And she obviously liked spying; she performed her duty to the South and had a nice time, too. She could always rely on a hidden weapon--male gallantry. When Federal commanders discovered that she had given information to the South that might wreck their plans, she would look sad, speak half gaily, half pathetically, and Northern chivalry would prove as strong as Southern; they would release her. Before she reached twenty-one this Virginian had been imprisoned twice, "reported" nearly thirty times, and arrested six or seven. In one romantic feat she persuaded her Northern captor to marry her and switch sides. Nearly everybody liked Belle or enjoyed hearing about her. In Piccadilly, English crowds hailed her as if she were a Sir Walter Scott heroine. French newspapers termed her "La Belle Rebelle." It can be surmised that she approved the title...
This thing is quite long, so I will post it all in peices. Sorry!
Source: "Spies For the Blue and Gray" by Harnett T. Kane
Belle Boyd, Cleopatra of the Secession
Belle Boyd played the role of spy as if the war were a lighthearted game of charades. And she lived as if she were fashioning her days into the plot of a romantic story. During her lifetime she could have read about herself in at least two historical novels, although neither did justice to her dashing exploits. The zestful Miss Boyd became an espionage agent when she was seventeen, and served the Confederacy throughout the war, in Dixie, the North, and England as well. She matched the boldness of any man, galloping headlong into the dark with cipher messages, or creeping into rooms to eavesdrop on Union Army conferences. On at least one occasion (when she could persuade none of the men to do it for her), she daringly entered battle lines to carry back important information. But Belle Boyd was above all overwhelmingly feminine; she made good use of her womanly appeal, of which she had an enormous amount. Unlike others who impersonated the inconspicuous female and made themselves up as a drab housewife or dowdy traveler, this spy played her own personality to the hilt, with a dramatic air and sweeping gestures, wearing rich reds and greens and feathers in her hat. Belle had a "joyous recklessness," as one reluctant admirer phrased it. She looked at men through her long lashes, assuring them that she had no intentions hostile to the North, while she stole whatever secrets were at hand and filched others practically from their pockets. Belle possessed at least one additional asset--perhaps the best pair of legs in the Confederacy. Even a lady must get in and out of a carriage or with a flurry of petticoats dismount from a home; at such times Miss Boyd showed a pretty confusion, and very fine ankles. Her actions were puzzling to her opponents, for at times she seemed cunning, at others naive. Always an individualist, she spied "by ear," after her own special fashion. Belle obviously did not believe in the virtues of silence, for what she thought, she generally said. Despite her failings, she proved a remarkably good agent. Belle Boyd loved the South passionately. After the war she said she had never "had a consciousness that I was a spy. I only wanted to help my people." Nevertheless, as Carl Sandburg has observed, she could have been "legally convicted and shot at sunrise on the basis of the evidence against her. Yet Belle had critics among Southerners themselves. She traveled alone, to the horror of more conventional women. A "brilliant talker," she conversed easily with anyone she met, and her lack of self-consciousness in the company of men was unusual in a woman of her class. She shocked her conservative friends by visiting camps, calling on generals and colonels in their tents, and accepting carriage rides in the warm afternoons. She even danced and flirted with Northerners as well as Southerners. When she bothered to defend herself, Belle said that it was necessary for her to be on good terms with both sides. Yet, there was no doubt that Miss Belle liked the boys in blue as well as those in gray. And she obviously liked spying; she performed her duty to the South and had a nice time, too. She could always rely on a hidden weapon--male gallantry. When Federal commanders discovered that she had given information to the South that might wreck their plans, she would look sad, speak half gaily, half pathetically, and Northern chivalry would prove as strong as Southern; they would release her. Before she reached twenty-one this Virginian had been imprisoned twice, "reported" nearly thirty times, and arrested six or seven. In one romantic feat she persuaded her Northern captor to marry her and switch sides. Nearly everybody liked Belle or enjoyed hearing about her. In Piccadilly, English crowds hailed her as if she were a Sir Walter Scott heroine. French newspapers termed her "La Belle Rebelle." It can be surmised that she approved the title...
This thing is quite long, so I will post it all in peices. Sorry!
Source: "Spies For the Blue and Gray" by Harnett T. Kane
Tuesday, May 22, 2007
Engineers of the Titanic
There were many heroes aboard the Titanic. It seems that there were many men who worked hard to get women and children into boats, and then there were the ones who ventured down into third class to bring up more women and children who were trapped, there was also the ones who lowered the boats, the officers who worked hard to carry out orders, and the wireless operators who stayed calling for help until the Marconi room began to take on water, and the band members who calmed passengers down with their music till the very last second. But the ones who have received the least credit of all are the engineers who fearlessly remained in the belly of the ship, pumping water and keeping the electricity running. Undoubtedly, if they had left their posts and let the lights go out, there would have been mass panic, for the night was dark and moonless (by most accounts). They kept the lights on for almost three hours, from the time the Titanic hit the ice berg, until her stern reared up, broke in half, and plunged into the bottom of the ocean, “…the engineers…still at work as she [the Titanic] heeled over and flung them with their engines down the length of the ship”*. They were never acknowledged by the survivors after the sinking. The editors and staff of the respected Scientific American wrote the following editorial in an attempt to honor the Titanic’s brave engineering crew and right what they saw as a grave injustice.
A Tribute To The Engineers Of The Titanic
April 27, 1912
There is a world of heroic and tragic significance in the fact that the survivors’ stories of the last hours of the Titanic make no reference whatever to the thirty-five officers of the engineer force. Of the officers of the deck there is frequent mention and many of them are among the survivors. This is natural and proper, for they were standing at their posts of duty. We read also of farewells between them and other officers whose duties were concerned with the welfare of the Titanic passengers; but in all the records of the final eventful hours there is not mention of any one of the band of men whose duties called for their presence far down in the deepest recesses of the ship. In the roll of the saved there is not the name of a single certified engineer. Why this literal silence of the grave? There can be but one answer. Every man of the engineer watch stuck to his post to the very last and went down with the ship. Furthermore, this devotion to duty leads us to believe that such engineers as were not on watch may have voluntarily gone below to render what assistance they could in the sudden and frightful emergency. This heroic devotion on the part of a little recognized body of professional men, the importance of whose duties on board ship is overlooked by the average trans-Atlantic passenger, will make an even greater impression upon our minds if we remember that they, above everybody else on that ship, must have known that she had received her death wound and that the hour of her sinking might be delayed, but not by any possibilities averted. While those above deck, conscious of the enormous magnitude of the Titanic were exclaiming “You cannot sink he,” these men standing on the double bottom may possibly have seen the submerged edge of the iceberg come ripping through the sides of the ship, opening up boiler room after boiler room to the savage inrush of water! The bunkers, we learn, were arranged transversely to the ship. Hence if the bilges of side plating were ruptured, the inrush of water must have occurred before the very eyes of the engineers; and to the seafaring man there is no sight before which his courage will quail so quickly as this. Nevertheless, there is every reason to believe that not a man flinched from his trial. Steam was maintained in such boiler rooms as were not invaded by the water; the powerful bilge pumps were kept going to the very last minute; and the electricity lighting plant was watched over, evidently with careful solicitude. It is certain the pumps alone must have very materially delayed the sinking of the ship; and the value, in that hour of terrible stress, of the work done by the electrical engineers in keeping the lights going until the last trace of the ship disappeared, is impossible to overestimate.**
How scary it must have been for them, trapped in the very bottom of the ship, knowing that their death was approaching and yet working all the while to keep the power on, and keep the pumps manned all the while as the water kept coming in, filling the holds where they worked, filling slowly up to their neck…and then she sank, carrying them all to the very bottom along with her. That is what I call a true hero.
* Lawrence Beesley, The Loss Of The S.S Titanic
**Thanks to Stephen Spignesi, The Complete Titanic
A Tribute To The Engineers Of The Titanic
April 27, 1912
There is a world of heroic and tragic significance in the fact that the survivors’ stories of the last hours of the Titanic make no reference whatever to the thirty-five officers of the engineer force. Of the officers of the deck there is frequent mention and many of them are among the survivors. This is natural and proper, for they were standing at their posts of duty. We read also of farewells between them and other officers whose duties were concerned with the welfare of the Titanic passengers; but in all the records of the final eventful hours there is not mention of any one of the band of men whose duties called for their presence far down in the deepest recesses of the ship. In the roll of the saved there is not the name of a single certified engineer. Why this literal silence of the grave? There can be but one answer. Every man of the engineer watch stuck to his post to the very last and went down with the ship. Furthermore, this devotion to duty leads us to believe that such engineers as were not on watch may have voluntarily gone below to render what assistance they could in the sudden and frightful emergency. This heroic devotion on the part of a little recognized body of professional men, the importance of whose duties on board ship is overlooked by the average trans-Atlantic passenger, will make an even greater impression upon our minds if we remember that they, above everybody else on that ship, must have known that she had received her death wound and that the hour of her sinking might be delayed, but not by any possibilities averted. While those above deck, conscious of the enormous magnitude of the Titanic were exclaiming “You cannot sink he,” these men standing on the double bottom may possibly have seen the submerged edge of the iceberg come ripping through the sides of the ship, opening up boiler room after boiler room to the savage inrush of water! The bunkers, we learn, were arranged transversely to the ship. Hence if the bilges of side plating were ruptured, the inrush of water must have occurred before the very eyes of the engineers; and to the seafaring man there is no sight before which his courage will quail so quickly as this. Nevertheless, there is every reason to believe that not a man flinched from his trial. Steam was maintained in such boiler rooms as were not invaded by the water; the powerful bilge pumps were kept going to the very last minute; and the electricity lighting plant was watched over, evidently with careful solicitude. It is certain the pumps alone must have very materially delayed the sinking of the ship; and the value, in that hour of terrible stress, of the work done by the electrical engineers in keeping the lights going until the last trace of the ship disappeared, is impossible to overestimate.**
How scary it must have been for them, trapped in the very bottom of the ship, knowing that their death was approaching and yet working all the while to keep the power on, and keep the pumps manned all the while as the water kept coming in, filling the holds where they worked, filling slowly up to their neck…and then she sank, carrying them all to the very bottom along with her. That is what I call a true hero.
* Lawrence Beesley, The Loss Of The S.S Titanic
**Thanks to Stephen Spignesi, The Complete Titanic
Thursday, May 17, 2007
Wilmer McLean
Here's an interesting tidbit of information:
On July 18, 1861 the lead elements of the Union and Confederate armies met at Blackburn's Ford on Bull Run Creek in Virginia. The farm land on which this skirmish took place was owned by Mr. McLean. During the battle a cannon shot exploded in the McLean farmhouse kitchen which was being used by Confederate General Beauregard as his headquarters. There were 83 US and 68 CS casualties in the fight.
In the Spring of '63 Wilmer McLean moved to Appomattox County, Virginia. On April 9, 1865 General Lee Surrendered to General Grant in the parlor of the McLean house, which was located near the courthouse.
Afterwards, Wilmer McLean said, "The war began in my dining room and ended in my parlor!"
That's certainly more than just a coincidence!
...WillDog
On July 18, 1861 the lead elements of the Union and Confederate armies met at Blackburn's Ford on Bull Run Creek in Virginia. The farm land on which this skirmish took place was owned by Mr. McLean. During the battle a cannon shot exploded in the McLean farmhouse kitchen which was being used by Confederate General Beauregard as his headquarters. There were 83 US and 68 CS casualties in the fight.
In the Spring of '63 Wilmer McLean moved to Appomattox County, Virginia. On April 9, 1865 General Lee Surrendered to General Grant in the parlor of the McLean house, which was located near the courthouse.Afterwards, Wilmer McLean said, "The war began in my dining room and ended in my parlor!"
That's certainly more than just a coincidence!
...WillDog
Wednesday, May 16, 2007
Esther Hart's story part 4
Dude, here's the last part of Esther Hart's story.
...So we got away from the ship for a safe distance, for there was no doubt now about her sinking. The front portion of her was pointing downwards and she appeared to be breaking in halves. Then with a mighty and tearing sob, as of some gigantic thing instinct with life, the front portion of her dived, for that is the only word I can use properly to describe it,-dived into the sea, and the after part with a heavy list, also disappeared. And then a wonderful thing happened. Apart from the swirl of the water close to the vessel, caused by such a mass sinking, the sea was as smooth as glass; it seemed as if the Almighty, in order that as many should be saved as possible had with a merciful hand, smoothed and calmed the waters. For a few moments we could see everything that was happening, for, as the vessel sank, millions and millions of sparks flew up and lit everything around us. And in an instant the sea was alive with wreckage,-with chairs, pillows, and rugs, benches, tables, cushions, and, strangely enough, black with an enormous mass of coffee beans. And the air was full of the awful and despairing cries of drowning men. And we were helpless to help, for we dared not go near them.Our officer was busy shouting out till he was hoarse, “Let all the boats keep as near together as possible. That’s our only chance of being picked up. If we separate we are lost. Keep together.” An inky blackness now settled over us, and not a soul in our boat had a match; but the officer found in his pockets an electric torch, which he kept flashing, shouting out all the time,- “Keep together,-it’s our only chance.” The duty that the officer allotted to me was to bale the water out of the boat. While sitting there I had the impression that there was somebody near me who ought not to be there. So, when I could get my elbows free I put my hand down under the seat and touched a human form. It was a poor wretch of a man who had smuggled himself into the boat, and had sat there during all that awful time, under the seat in about six inches of water. When we got him out he was so stiff he could scarcely move.It had got a little lighter now, and our officer had collected nearly all the boats together; and he called from one to the other, “How many in yours-how many in yours?” and then he discovered that there was room in those other boats to put the whole of our fifty-five in, so we were transferred to them, and the officer now collected a few seaman in his now empty boat and rowed away to see what he could find. So, with proper management another fifty-five people could easily have been saved. I cannot understand why, in the midst of such terrible doings, these boats left the ship without their full number of passengers; fifty-five precious lives lost either through selfishness or carelessness, I know not which. It was no easy matter for me to get from one boat to the other. I am no light weight at the best of times: but now I was weak from want of sleep,-weak with the terror of the night,-and laden with Ben’s heavy motor coat. Eva had been handed in, and I shall never forget my feelings when I saw her leave, and found myself unable to get a footing on the boat she was in. At last I managed it, how I could not tell. Eva was suffering from a violent attack of vomiting: for, when they had thrown her into the first boat from the Titanic she had hit her stomach on the edge of the boat. And there the poor little thing was, and I could not get near her to wipe her mouth. So there we sat the weary night through until at eight in the morning, the Carpathia came on the scene. I always thought that these ship boats had to be provisioned beforehand, in view of possible accidents, but there was no water, nor were there biscuits in the boat. An oversight I suppose: but one fraught with terrible consequences had not the Carpathia arrived in good time.Gradually the welcome dawn broke; and as the sun rose and we looked at where the sky and sea met, we saw one of the most wonderful sights that could be imagined. Right away there, stretching for miles and miles, there appeared what seemed to us, an enormous fleet of yachts, with their glistening sails all spread. As the sun grew brighter they seemed they seemed to sparkle with innumerable diamonds. They were icebergs; and, moving slowly and majestically along all by itself, a mile or so in length, in form like the pictures of Gibraltar I have seen, was the monster iceberg, the cause of all our trouble. And now about 8 o’clock the “Carpathia” came into sight and we were all aboard by 8.30. I cannot say much of my life on board this vessel. It was no matter for a ship to take on another 700 people, many of them but lightly clad, most of them ill, and all suffering severely from shock; all was done for us that could be done: but I could neither rest nor sleep. My little Eva was still suffering from her vomiting attack and I found my hands full in nursing her; but when at night she was asleep, I could do nothing but walk the corridor, up and down, up and down, and thinking, thinking all the time. So much did I walk about at night that the kind hearted sailors christened me The Lady of the Watch. Well, eventually we arrived at New York. And what can I say of the kindness of the “Women’s Relief Committee,” and the help they rendered us poor stranded souls. Kindness! that’s but a poor word; and yet I can find no other for their intensely practical sympathy. No formulas, no questions. We had got to be helped and that quickly, and quickly they did it. In a short space of time with a speed that seemed incredible, there was a sufficiency of clothing for every destitute woman and child-my women readers will understand me when I say that everything a woman needed was there in abundance-from a blouse to a safety pin, underclothing, stays, stockings, garters, suspenders, hair pins, boots of all sizes, each pair with laces or a button hook in them as was necessary; I have never heard of such foresight. I have never experienced such real kindness. God bless the ladies of the “Women’s Relief Committee of New York,” say I heartily and fervently. Why, Mrs Satterlee actually drove me in her beautiful car to the hotel where I was to stay pending my return to England, and wanted me to go to lunch with her in her house, but my heart was too full for that. She knew the reason and appreciated it like the lady she is. One touching little incident occurred before I sailed for home on the “Celtic,” and that was the receipt of a letter from little children in New Jersey. They had heard of my Eva and they sent her a Dollar bill with a beautiful little letter. I don’t think that bill will ever be changed; for both it and the letter will be framed.There is but little to add. I returned on the “Celtic” with five other ladies from the “Titanic,” including Mrs Ada Clarke, of Southampton. We were treated with every kindness and consideration . A lady in the first saloon sent out word that whatever we wanted in the way of fruit or any other delicacies not included in our menu, we were to have.And now I have only one object in life, and that is the future of my little Eva. My lost Ben had such dreams of her future; he meant to do such things for her; and, whatever money I get, apart from the bare cost of the necessities of life, shall be devoted to her up-bringing in such a way as shall realise, as far as my endeavours and finances can go, his wishes with regard to her.
~Esther Hart “Slinfold,” Chadwell Heath.
This is the conclusion of Esther's story, please feel free to not like it if you wish, but I hope that you did enjoy it, I did.
...So we got away from the ship for a safe distance, for there was no doubt now about her sinking. The front portion of her was pointing downwards and she appeared to be breaking in halves. Then with a mighty and tearing sob, as of some gigantic thing instinct with life, the front portion of her dived, for that is the only word I can use properly to describe it,-dived into the sea, and the after part with a heavy list, also disappeared. And then a wonderful thing happened. Apart from the swirl of the water close to the vessel, caused by such a mass sinking, the sea was as smooth as glass; it seemed as if the Almighty, in order that as many should be saved as possible had with a merciful hand, smoothed and calmed the waters. For a few moments we could see everything that was happening, for, as the vessel sank, millions and millions of sparks flew up and lit everything around us. And in an instant the sea was alive with wreckage,-with chairs, pillows, and rugs, benches, tables, cushions, and, strangely enough, black with an enormous mass of coffee beans. And the air was full of the awful and despairing cries of drowning men. And we were helpless to help, for we dared not go near them.Our officer was busy shouting out till he was hoarse, “Let all the boats keep as near together as possible. That’s our only chance of being picked up. If we separate we are lost. Keep together.” An inky blackness now settled over us, and not a soul in our boat had a match; but the officer found in his pockets an electric torch, which he kept flashing, shouting out all the time,- “Keep together,-it’s our only chance.” The duty that the officer allotted to me was to bale the water out of the boat. While sitting there I had the impression that there was somebody near me who ought not to be there. So, when I could get my elbows free I put my hand down under the seat and touched a human form. It was a poor wretch of a man who had smuggled himself into the boat, and had sat there during all that awful time, under the seat in about six inches of water. When we got him out he was so stiff he could scarcely move.It had got a little lighter now, and our officer had collected nearly all the boats together; and he called from one to the other, “How many in yours-how many in yours?” and then he discovered that there was room in those other boats to put the whole of our fifty-five in, so we were transferred to them, and the officer now collected a few seaman in his now empty boat and rowed away to see what he could find. So, with proper management another fifty-five people could easily have been saved. I cannot understand why, in the midst of such terrible doings, these boats left the ship without their full number of passengers; fifty-five precious lives lost either through selfishness or carelessness, I know not which. It was no easy matter for me to get from one boat to the other. I am no light weight at the best of times: but now I was weak from want of sleep,-weak with the terror of the night,-and laden with Ben’s heavy motor coat. Eva had been handed in, and I shall never forget my feelings when I saw her leave, and found myself unable to get a footing on the boat she was in. At last I managed it, how I could not tell. Eva was suffering from a violent attack of vomiting: for, when they had thrown her into the first boat from the Titanic she had hit her stomach on the edge of the boat. And there the poor little thing was, and I could not get near her to wipe her mouth. So there we sat the weary night through until at eight in the morning, the Carpathia came on the scene. I always thought that these ship boats had to be provisioned beforehand, in view of possible accidents, but there was no water, nor were there biscuits in the boat. An oversight I suppose: but one fraught with terrible consequences had not the Carpathia arrived in good time.Gradually the welcome dawn broke; and as the sun rose and we looked at where the sky and sea met, we saw one of the most wonderful sights that could be imagined. Right away there, stretching for miles and miles, there appeared what seemed to us, an enormous fleet of yachts, with their glistening sails all spread. As the sun grew brighter they seemed they seemed to sparkle with innumerable diamonds. They were icebergs; and, moving slowly and majestically along all by itself, a mile or so in length, in form like the pictures of Gibraltar I have seen, was the monster iceberg, the cause of all our trouble. And now about 8 o’clock the “Carpathia” came into sight and we were all aboard by 8.30. I cannot say much of my life on board this vessel. It was no matter for a ship to take on another 700 people, many of them but lightly clad, most of them ill, and all suffering severely from shock; all was done for us that could be done: but I could neither rest nor sleep. My little Eva was still suffering from her vomiting attack and I found my hands full in nursing her; but when at night she was asleep, I could do nothing but walk the corridor, up and down, up and down, and thinking, thinking all the time. So much did I walk about at night that the kind hearted sailors christened me The Lady of the Watch. Well, eventually we arrived at New York. And what can I say of the kindness of the “Women’s Relief Committee,” and the help they rendered us poor stranded souls. Kindness! that’s but a poor word; and yet I can find no other for their intensely practical sympathy. No formulas, no questions. We had got to be helped and that quickly, and quickly they did it. In a short space of time with a speed that seemed incredible, there was a sufficiency of clothing for every destitute woman and child-my women readers will understand me when I say that everything a woman needed was there in abundance-from a blouse to a safety pin, underclothing, stays, stockings, garters, suspenders, hair pins, boots of all sizes, each pair with laces or a button hook in them as was necessary; I have never heard of such foresight. I have never experienced such real kindness. God bless the ladies of the “Women’s Relief Committee of New York,” say I heartily and fervently. Why, Mrs Satterlee actually drove me in her beautiful car to the hotel where I was to stay pending my return to England, and wanted me to go to lunch with her in her house, but my heart was too full for that. She knew the reason and appreciated it like the lady she is. One touching little incident occurred before I sailed for home on the “Celtic,” and that was the receipt of a letter from little children in New Jersey. They had heard of my Eva and they sent her a Dollar bill with a beautiful little letter. I don’t think that bill will ever be changed; for both it and the letter will be framed.There is but little to add. I returned on the “Celtic” with five other ladies from the “Titanic,” including Mrs Ada Clarke, of Southampton. We were treated with every kindness and consideration . A lady in the first saloon sent out word that whatever we wanted in the way of fruit or any other delicacies not included in our menu, we were to have.And now I have only one object in life, and that is the future of my little Eva. My lost Ben had such dreams of her future; he meant to do such things for her; and, whatever money I get, apart from the bare cost of the necessities of life, shall be devoted to her up-bringing in such a way as shall realise, as far as my endeavours and finances can go, his wishes with regard to her.
~Esther Hart “Slinfold,” Chadwell Heath.
This is the conclusion of Esther's story, please feel free to not like it if you wish, but I hope that you did enjoy it, I did.
Monday, May 14, 2007
Part 3 of Esther Hart's story
Sorry I haven't posted in awhile, I have been very busy with this and that. But anyway, here is part three of Esther Hart's story:
...Four boats we tried and at the fifth there was room. Eva was thrown in first, and I followed her. Just then, a man who had previously tried to get in, succeeded in doing so, but was ordered out, and the officer fired his revolver into the air to let everyone see it was loaded, and shouted out, “Stand back! I say, stand back! The next man who puts his foot in this boat, I will shoot him down like a dog.” Ben, who had been doing what he could to help the women and children, said quietly, “I’m not going in, but for God’s sake look after my wife and child.” And little Eva called out to the officer with the revolver “Don’t shoot my daddy,-You shan’t shoot my daddy.” What an experience for a little child to go through! At the age of seven to have passed through the valley of the shadow of death. I wonder if she will ever forget it? I know I shan’t, if I live for a hundred years.So that was the last I saw of my poor lost dear,-no farewell kiss, no fond word,-but in a moment he had gone and we were hanging over the sea,-fifty or sixty feet above it, and then there were two or three horrible jerks as the boat was lowered from the davits and we were in the water, so crowded that we could scarcely move.In the midst of all these stunning blows one despairing tact alone seized my thoughts: I knew, and a woman is `never wrong in such matters, that I had seen the last of my Ben, and that I had lost the best and truest friend, the kindest and most thoughtful husband that ever woman had.The officer in charge of our boat was standing on that raised part of it right at the end. We were all women and children aboard (at least I thought so then, but we were not, as I will presently tell you) and we were all crying and sobbing; and the officer said, not roughly, but I think with a kindly desire to keep our minds off the terrible time we had gone through. “Don’t cry,-please don’t cry. You’ll have something else to do than cry; some of you will have to handle the oars. For God’s sake stop crying. If I had not the responsibility of looking after you I would put a bullet through my brain."...
Well, I am sorry, but the rest will have to wait till next time...
...Four boats we tried and at the fifth there was room. Eva was thrown in first, and I followed her. Just then, a man who had previously tried to get in, succeeded in doing so, but was ordered out, and the officer fired his revolver into the air to let everyone see it was loaded, and shouted out, “Stand back! I say, stand back! The next man who puts his foot in this boat, I will shoot him down like a dog.” Ben, who had been doing what he could to help the women and children, said quietly, “I’m not going in, but for God’s sake look after my wife and child.” And little Eva called out to the officer with the revolver “Don’t shoot my daddy,-You shan’t shoot my daddy.” What an experience for a little child to go through! At the age of seven to have passed through the valley of the shadow of death. I wonder if she will ever forget it? I know I shan’t, if I live for a hundred years.So that was the last I saw of my poor lost dear,-no farewell kiss, no fond word,-but in a moment he had gone and we were hanging over the sea,-fifty or sixty feet above it, and then there were two or three horrible jerks as the boat was lowered from the davits and we were in the water, so crowded that we could scarcely move.In the midst of all these stunning blows one despairing tact alone seized my thoughts: I knew, and a woman is `never wrong in such matters, that I had seen the last of my Ben, and that I had lost the best and truest friend, the kindest and most thoughtful husband that ever woman had.The officer in charge of our boat was standing on that raised part of it right at the end. We were all women and children aboard (at least I thought so then, but we were not, as I will presently tell you) and we were all crying and sobbing; and the officer said, not roughly, but I think with a kindly desire to keep our minds off the terrible time we had gone through. “Don’t cry,-please don’t cry. You’ll have something else to do than cry; some of you will have to handle the oars. For God’s sake stop crying. If I had not the responsibility of looking after you I would put a bullet through my brain."...
Well, I am sorry, but the rest will have to wait till next time...
Friday, May 11, 2007
Part 2 of Esther Hart's story
This is indeed part two of Esther Hart's story.
...Now if I had known that just at this time of the year the icebergs get across the track of the Atlantic liners, a little incident which occurred on this Sunday would have sent me straight to the Captain, even if I'd have had to climb on to his bridge. But the simple things we ought to know we are never told. My husband was always a man who could bear extremes of heat and cold better than anyone I have ever met. All through those trying days of heat last year, when everyone else was melting and parched, he never once grumbled, but kept as cool as a cucumber. And the same with the cold. I have known him, when other people have been hanging over the fires, in and out of the house with his coat off, laughing at the poor shivering ones. And yet at mid day on this fatal Sunday, he suddenly came up to baby and myself, and said rubbing his hands, "How cold it has turned. I feel as if there was not a warm drop of blood in my body. Come and have a romp with daddy," he said to baby, and together they went off and ran and romped on the hurricane desk.We were in the iceberg region and the Almighty sent a warning to my husband,-the man who was never cold before now shivered and shook like one stricken with ague.But, beyond thinking it a curious thing, we took no heed And now, I come to a part of my story that I shrink from telling. Indeed, I think I have lingered over the first part because I dread relating the events of that awful night. I have read some where of people living a whole lifetime in a few hours. I know now that I have done so. To have gone through what I went through, to have suffered what I have suffered, to have seen what I have seen, to know what I know, and still to be alive, and above all-thank the Lord-to still preserve my reason, is a great and a growing marvel to me.We had retired to our cabin about 10, and my husband who thoroughly enjoyed the life aboard ship and drank his fill of the ozone,-he could never get enough of it,-was soon undressed and fast asleep in his bunk. My little Eva too was sound asleep, and I was sitting on my portmanteau with my head resting on the side of my bunk. And then all of a sudden there came the most awful sound I have ever heard in my life,-a dreadful tearing and ripping sound,-how any people were awake at the time can say they scarcely felt a shock I cannot understand,-the sound of great masses of steel and iron being violently torn, rent and cut asunder.I was on my feet in an instant, for I knew something dreadful had happened. I shook Ben, and he awoke. “Daddy.” I said, “get up at once. We have hit something I am sure and it’s serious.” Poor dear Ben! He was partly asleep still, and he said, “Oh woman,-again! I really don’t know what I shall do with you?” “Ben,” I said,-not loudly, but with a quiet insistence which influenced him far more,-something has happened; go up on deck and find out what it is.” He went up in his nightshirt and bare feet; in a few moments he was back again. He said, “All the men are at the lifeboats,-it’s only a lifeboat drill.” I said, “They don’t have lifeboat drills at 11 at night, I tell you something has happened,-dress quickly and let us dress the baby.” So he hurriedly put on his pants and his overcoat, put his big motor coat over me and then dressed the sleeping little girl. Just then a stewardess, with whom I was on friendly terms came along and said she would soon find out all about it. She knew the Marconi operator and would ask him. So she went away and quickly came back saying that everything was all right. But I said, “Everything is not all right, we have struck something and the water is coming in.” I think by this time Ben had realised,-although he would not say so,-that danger was ahead, for when he got up on “B” deck, he turned away for a few moments, and said his Jewish prayers. The next few minutes were so crowded with events, so fraught with all that matters in this world,-life to a few of us,-death to the majority of us,-that I have no coherent recollection of what happened. I know that there was a cry of “She’s sinking.” I heard hoarse shouts of “Women and children first,” and then from boat to boat we were hurried, only to be told “already full.”...
Don't be alarmed, part three is coming up very soon...
...Now if I had known that just at this time of the year the icebergs get across the track of the Atlantic liners, a little incident which occurred on this Sunday would have sent me straight to the Captain, even if I'd have had to climb on to his bridge. But the simple things we ought to know we are never told. My husband was always a man who could bear extremes of heat and cold better than anyone I have ever met. All through those trying days of heat last year, when everyone else was melting and parched, he never once grumbled, but kept as cool as a cucumber. And the same with the cold. I have known him, when other people have been hanging over the fires, in and out of the house with his coat off, laughing at the poor shivering ones. And yet at mid day on this fatal Sunday, he suddenly came up to baby and myself, and said rubbing his hands, "How cold it has turned. I feel as if there was not a warm drop of blood in my body. Come and have a romp with daddy," he said to baby, and together they went off and ran and romped on the hurricane desk.We were in the iceberg region and the Almighty sent a warning to my husband,-the man who was never cold before now shivered and shook like one stricken with ague.But, beyond thinking it a curious thing, we took no heed And now, I come to a part of my story that I shrink from telling. Indeed, I think I have lingered over the first part because I dread relating the events of that awful night. I have read some where of people living a whole lifetime in a few hours. I know now that I have done so. To have gone through what I went through, to have suffered what I have suffered, to have seen what I have seen, to know what I know, and still to be alive, and above all-thank the Lord-to still preserve my reason, is a great and a growing marvel to me.We had retired to our cabin about 10, and my husband who thoroughly enjoyed the life aboard ship and drank his fill of the ozone,-he could never get enough of it,-was soon undressed and fast asleep in his bunk. My little Eva too was sound asleep, and I was sitting on my portmanteau with my head resting on the side of my bunk. And then all of a sudden there came the most awful sound I have ever heard in my life,-a dreadful tearing and ripping sound,-how any people were awake at the time can say they scarcely felt a shock I cannot understand,-the sound of great masses of steel and iron being violently torn, rent and cut asunder.I was on my feet in an instant, for I knew something dreadful had happened. I shook Ben, and he awoke. “Daddy.” I said, “get up at once. We have hit something I am sure and it’s serious.” Poor dear Ben! He was partly asleep still, and he said, “Oh woman,-again! I really don’t know what I shall do with you?” “Ben,” I said,-not loudly, but with a quiet insistence which influenced him far more,-something has happened; go up on deck and find out what it is.” He went up in his nightshirt and bare feet; in a few moments he was back again. He said, “All the men are at the lifeboats,-it’s only a lifeboat drill.” I said, “They don’t have lifeboat drills at 11 at night, I tell you something has happened,-dress quickly and let us dress the baby.” So he hurriedly put on his pants and his overcoat, put his big motor coat over me and then dressed the sleeping little girl. Just then a stewardess, with whom I was on friendly terms came along and said she would soon find out all about it. She knew the Marconi operator and would ask him. So she went away and quickly came back saying that everything was all right. But I said, “Everything is not all right, we have struck something and the water is coming in.” I think by this time Ben had realised,-although he would not say so,-that danger was ahead, for when he got up on “B” deck, he turned away for a few moments, and said his Jewish prayers. The next few minutes were so crowded with events, so fraught with all that matters in this world,-life to a few of us,-death to the majority of us,-that I have no coherent recollection of what happened. I know that there was a cry of “She’s sinking.” I heard hoarse shouts of “Women and children first,” and then from boat to boat we were hurried, only to be told “already full.”...
Don't be alarmed, part three is coming up very soon...
Thursday, May 10, 2007
Ilford Graphic, the tale of Mrs. Ben Hart
This is part-one of a large article by Mrs.Hart, Eva's mother. It is kinda long, so I only did part of it.
Ilford Graphic
The Tale of the "Titanic" told by a rescued Ilford lady.
Mrs Ben Hart's personal and thrilling Narrative. Exclusive to the "Ilford Graphic"
Friday 10th May 1912.
I can honestly say that from the moment the journey to Canada was mentioned, till the time we got aboard the Titanic I never contemplated with any other feelings but those of dread and uneasiness. It was all done in a hurry. My husband of late had not been successful in business and things looked like going from bad to worse.He was a very clever carpenter and his chest of tools was considered to be as perfect and expensive as any carpenter could wish for. At any rate he valued them at £100. He was going out to start building with a Mr Wire at Winnipeg. Mr Wire has since written to me expressing his deep regret at Ben's untimely loss, and adding. "There were five Winnipeg men lost on the Titanic and I might have been one of them."The idea seized on Ben's imagination. "I'll go out to a new country," he said. "Where I'll either sink or swim." In fact, during the time prior to our leaving Ilford, the latter statement was always in his mouth. I little knew then how sadly prophetic it was to turn out for my poor dear. I said at the commencement that I viewed the journey with dread and uneasiness, but in saying that I do not wish anyone to think that I ever imagined anything so dreadful would happen as did happen. You see I was leaving my father and mother when they were at fairly advanced age, and neither of them in the best of health and I knew that in saying goodbye, I was saying goodbye forever: but it has pleased God to take my husband and send me back to them. Then I was leaving all the friends I had known in Ilford for so many years: and lastly, I dreaded the sea: the idea of being on the sea at night was bad enough, but for six or seven, I could not contemplate it, it was a nightmare to me.Well, we said all our "Good-byes" and reached Southampton, and almost the first thing Ben did was take me to see the Titanic. He was always an enthusiastic in anything he was interested in: and he could not have been more enthusiastic over the Titanic had he been a part proprietor of it. "There! old girl," he said, "there's a vessel for you! You're not afraid now." I tried to share his confidence, but my heart quite failed me when we got aboard and I counted the number of boats there were. I said, "Ben, we are carrying over 2,000 people and there are not enough boats for half of them if anything happens." He laughed at my fears and said that beyond boat drills he did not expect the boats would come off the davits. But from that moment I made up my mind to one thing, till we were sale on land at New York.Nothing should ever persuade me to undress, and nothing did, although Ben at times got very cross with me. So each night I simply rested in my bunk, fully dressed and fully prepared. God knows why, for the worst.We were fortunate in having some very nice people at our table. We were in parties of eight in the second saloon, and our party included a lady and gentleman from the Cape, Mr and Mrs Brown and their daughter, who were on their way to Vancouver. Mr Guggenheim's (a millionaire) chauffeur, (both Mr and Mrs Guggenheim and he were drowned), a lady named Mrs Mary Mack, whose body has since been recovered, and Mr Hart, myself, and baby. Mr Brown and Ben got on capitally together. They were the exact opposite of each other. Mr Brown was a quiet, reserved man who scarcely ever spoke, and dadda was fond of talking and so they got on well, -promenaded the deck together, had their mid-day "Bass" together, and smoked their pipes together. Indeed, Mrs Brown said that she had never seen her husband "take" to anyone like he had to my Ben.Oh dear! Oh dear! To think that of the eight at the table, four were taken and four were left. I can see them bright, happy faces now as we sat round that table at meal times, talking of the future, they were all so confident, so looking forward to a new life in a new land, and well they found it, but in God's way, not theirs.Now a very curious thing happened on the Saturday night. We had made splendid progress, and although I was still far from easy in my mind. I was as content as I could be off the land. I heard someone remark with glee that we were making a bee line for New York. I knew we were going at a tremendous speed, and it was the general talk,-I cannot say what truth there was in it- that the Captain and offers were "on" something good if we broke the record.But on the Saturday night I was resting in my bunk and my husband was sound asleep above me. Everything was quiet, except the throb of the screw and a strange straining and creaking of everything in the cabin, which I had noticed all the voyage. I may have just dozed off when I was awakened by a feeling as if some gigantic force had given the ship a mighty push behind.-I could even hear the swirl of the waters which such a push to such a vessel would cause. I sat up,-no doubt as to my being wide awake, again came the push and the swirl, and yet again a third time. For a few minutes I was dazed, frozen with terror of I know not what. Then I stood up and shook my husband who still sleeping soundly "Ben," I said, "Ben wake up,-get up,-something dreadful has happened or is going to happen." He was a little cross, as a man naturally is when he is woke from a sound sleep by the ungrounded fears (as he thinks) of a woman, but he saw that I was upset, and so he got up and partly dressed, and went up on the hurricane deck, and soon returned and assured me that the sea was calm and that the ship was travelling smoothly.The next morning at breakfast, he laughingly told our table about it, and said what he was going to do that (Sunday night) to keep me quiet. He was going to insist upon my having a strong glass of hot grog to make me sleep. Mr Brown explained the creaking and straining by saying that as it was a new vessel everything was settling down into it's proper place. "Why," he said "When we get to New York, it's more than likely that a lot of the paint will have come away, a lot of the joints have started," and so on. "That's all very well," I said, "but what about those awful jerks one after the other?" That he could not explain, nor anybody else. I say it was a warning from God to me, for I think that perhaps I was the only one of the 2,000 odd about who went in daily and nightly dread of the unforeseen. But had I told it to those in authority! Would anyone have listened to a silly, weak woman's superstitious fears? Would they have gone one hair's breadth out of their course? Would they have ordered one revolution less per minute of the screw? So I could only do what women have had to do from the beginning, eat my heart out with fear and wait...
To be continued...
Ilford Graphic
The Tale of the "Titanic" told by a rescued Ilford lady.
Mrs Ben Hart's personal and thrilling Narrative. Exclusive to the "Ilford Graphic"
Friday 10th May 1912.
I can honestly say that from the moment the journey to Canada was mentioned, till the time we got aboard the Titanic I never contemplated with any other feelings but those of dread and uneasiness. It was all done in a hurry. My husband of late had not been successful in business and things looked like going from bad to worse.He was a very clever carpenter and his chest of tools was considered to be as perfect and expensive as any carpenter could wish for. At any rate he valued them at £100. He was going out to start building with a Mr Wire at Winnipeg. Mr Wire has since written to me expressing his deep regret at Ben's untimely loss, and adding. "There were five Winnipeg men lost on the Titanic and I might have been one of them."The idea seized on Ben's imagination. "I'll go out to a new country," he said. "Where I'll either sink or swim." In fact, during the time prior to our leaving Ilford, the latter statement was always in his mouth. I little knew then how sadly prophetic it was to turn out for my poor dear. I said at the commencement that I viewed the journey with dread and uneasiness, but in saying that I do not wish anyone to think that I ever imagined anything so dreadful would happen as did happen. You see I was leaving my father and mother when they were at fairly advanced age, and neither of them in the best of health and I knew that in saying goodbye, I was saying goodbye forever: but it has pleased God to take my husband and send me back to them. Then I was leaving all the friends I had known in Ilford for so many years: and lastly, I dreaded the sea: the idea of being on the sea at night was bad enough, but for six or seven, I could not contemplate it, it was a nightmare to me.Well, we said all our "Good-byes" and reached Southampton, and almost the first thing Ben did was take me to see the Titanic. He was always an enthusiastic in anything he was interested in: and he could not have been more enthusiastic over the Titanic had he been a part proprietor of it. "There! old girl," he said, "there's a vessel for you! You're not afraid now." I tried to share his confidence, but my heart quite failed me when we got aboard and I counted the number of boats there were. I said, "Ben, we are carrying over 2,000 people and there are not enough boats for half of them if anything happens." He laughed at my fears and said that beyond boat drills he did not expect the boats would come off the davits. But from that moment I made up my mind to one thing, till we were sale on land at New York.Nothing should ever persuade me to undress, and nothing did, although Ben at times got very cross with me. So each night I simply rested in my bunk, fully dressed and fully prepared. God knows why, for the worst.We were fortunate in having some very nice people at our table. We were in parties of eight in the second saloon, and our party included a lady and gentleman from the Cape, Mr and Mrs Brown and their daughter, who were on their way to Vancouver. Mr Guggenheim's (a millionaire) chauffeur, (both Mr and Mrs Guggenheim and he were drowned), a lady named Mrs Mary Mack, whose body has since been recovered, and Mr Hart, myself, and baby. Mr Brown and Ben got on capitally together. They were the exact opposite of each other. Mr Brown was a quiet, reserved man who scarcely ever spoke, and dadda was fond of talking and so they got on well, -promenaded the deck together, had their mid-day "Bass" together, and smoked their pipes together. Indeed, Mrs Brown said that she had never seen her husband "take" to anyone like he had to my Ben.Oh dear! Oh dear! To think that of the eight at the table, four were taken and four were left. I can see them bright, happy faces now as we sat round that table at meal times, talking of the future, they were all so confident, so looking forward to a new life in a new land, and well they found it, but in God's way, not theirs.Now a very curious thing happened on the Saturday night. We had made splendid progress, and although I was still far from easy in my mind. I was as content as I could be off the land. I heard someone remark with glee that we were making a bee line for New York. I knew we were going at a tremendous speed, and it was the general talk,-I cannot say what truth there was in it- that the Captain and offers were "on" something good if we broke the record.But on the Saturday night I was resting in my bunk and my husband was sound asleep above me. Everything was quiet, except the throb of the screw and a strange straining and creaking of everything in the cabin, which I had noticed all the voyage. I may have just dozed off when I was awakened by a feeling as if some gigantic force had given the ship a mighty push behind.-I could even hear the swirl of the waters which such a push to such a vessel would cause. I sat up,-no doubt as to my being wide awake, again came the push and the swirl, and yet again a third time. For a few minutes I was dazed, frozen with terror of I know not what. Then I stood up and shook my husband who still sleeping soundly "Ben," I said, "Ben wake up,-get up,-something dreadful has happened or is going to happen." He was a little cross, as a man naturally is when he is woke from a sound sleep by the ungrounded fears (as he thinks) of a woman, but he saw that I was upset, and so he got up and partly dressed, and went up on the hurricane deck, and soon returned and assured me that the sea was calm and that the ship was travelling smoothly.The next morning at breakfast, he laughingly told our table about it, and said what he was going to do that (Sunday night) to keep me quiet. He was going to insist upon my having a strong glass of hot grog to make me sleep. Mr Brown explained the creaking and straining by saying that as it was a new vessel everything was settling down into it's proper place. "Why," he said "When we get to New York, it's more than likely that a lot of the paint will have come away, a lot of the joints have started," and so on. "That's all very well," I said, "but what about those awful jerks one after the other?" That he could not explain, nor anybody else. I say it was a warning from God to me, for I think that perhaps I was the only one of the 2,000 odd about who went in daily and nightly dread of the unforeseen. But had I told it to those in authority! Would anyone have listened to a silly, weak woman's superstitious fears? Would they have gone one hair's breadth out of their course? Would they have ordered one revolution less per minute of the screw? So I could only do what women have had to do from the beginning, eat my heart out with fear and wait...
To be continued...
Wednesday, May 09, 2007
Cool names+Ptolemies
I also think that the names of the Pharaohs and queens in Egypt are cool. I mean, they never had anyone named ‘John Smith’ or ‘Mary Dorcus’, ya’ know, short boring names like that. Take Nefartari, Meryetamen, Istnofret, Maat-Hor-Neferure, Auibre Hor, Irynofret, Merenphat, Amenmesse, Seti, Merybast, Neferhotep, Hesysunebef, Amennakht, Naunakht, Hatshepsut, Akhenaten, Seqenenre Tao, Kenherkhepeshef, Mutnodjmet, Ramsesnakht, Amenhotep, and my three personal favorites; Amunherwenemef, Neferneferuaten, and Djedmaatesankh ! These names are an adventure just to pronounce! And I think they are great, I wish that we could all be named like that. Wouldn’t that be cool! Though it seems that in the last line of Pharaohs, in the end of the BC’s, they lost their creativity. All the females were named Bernice, Arsinoe, and Cleopatra, (Which all mean:‘Glory to her father’) while the males were all named Ptolemy. Sad. Can you imagine having your father, uncles, grandfathers, and brothers all with the same name, except for the number at the end? It’s like; “Yo, Ten, come here!” “Hey Fifteen guess what!”. All the Ptolemies had nicknames though. The famous Cleopatra VII’s father, Ptolemy XII, was called Auletes, meaning flute player. Another one, Ptolemy VIII was called Physcon, which meant “Fatty”. He was his name. Whenever he sat down, servants had to hoist him to his feet, because he was so big he could not! Too bad that the Ptolemies were also a very bloodthirsty line. The Ptolemies would kill any brothers, sisters, mother, father, or anyone else who stood in the way of the throne, or even if they just felt like it. Ptolemy IV killed his mother, brother, and uncle. Those are just a few of them, even Autletes killed a few people. “Fatty” killed his own son, dismembered the body, and sent the pieces to the boy’s mother as a birthday present. Gross. But despite all this, I will forever remain faithful to my interest of ancient in Egypt!
Tuesday, May 08, 2007
Eva Hart
Eva Hart was a a young girl traveling on the Titanic, she was a only child and was with her mother and father. Only she and her mother survived. Here is her recollection of the sinking:
I was born in Ilford Essex January 31 1905, my father was a master builder… he had a friend who had gone to Canada and was doing remarkable well as a builder…and he tried to persuade my father to join him…it was all decided in the space of one night…my father was so excited about it and my mother was upset…The first time in my life I saw her crying…she was so desperately unhappy about the prospect of going. 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…It was a 4 berth cabin…we had three beds and my mother had a table she used to sit at to do her knitting or sewing … 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 all night…she decided that she wouldn’t go to bed at night, and she didn’t …[the night of the sinking] she felt this little ‘bump’ as she always described it, because we were a long way from it. We were on the port side of the ship and the collision was on the starboard side of the ship, and had she been asleep it wouldn’t have wakened her… she immediately awakened my father… My father went away and spoke to one of the sailors and came back and said ‘We’ve hit an iceberg…they’re going to launch the lifeboats but you’ll be back on for breakfast.’ They started to lower the boats and my father put my mother and I in without any trouble at all…I never saw him again…he told me to hold my mommy’s hand and be a good girl, that’s all he said. The panic seemed to me to start after the boats had gone, we could hear it…after we were rowing away from the ship…then we could hear the panic of people rushing about on the deck and screaming and looking for lifeboats…I was terrified…it was dreadful…the bows went down first and the stern stuck up on the ocean what seemed to me like a long time…but it stood up stark against the sky and then keeled over and went down, you could hear the people screaming and thrashing about in the water…and finally the ghastly noise of the people thrashing about and screaming and drowning, that finally ceased. I remember saying to my mother once, ‘How dreadful that noise was’ and I’ll always remember her reply, she said, ‘Yes, but think back about the silence that followed it…because all of a sudden the ship wasn’t there, the lights weren’t there and the cries weren’t there.’ *
Can you imagine how those cries must have sounded? The last desperate screams as death overtook women, children, and men alike. It must have been horrible. Survivors have talked about the silence that followed, as one after another, the more than one thousand people in the freezing water slowly succumbed to the deadly cold. The dark eerie calm of the sea was intensified in the eyes of the living, by the sound of the dead in the silence. Eesh
*Titanic voices
I was born in Ilford Essex January 31 1905, my father was a master builder… he had a friend who had gone to Canada and was doing remarkable well as a builder…and he tried to persuade my father to join him…it was all decided in the space of one night…my father was so excited about it and my mother was upset…The first time in my life I saw her crying…she was so desperately unhappy about the prospect of going. 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…It was a 4 berth cabin…we had three beds and my mother had a table she used to sit at to do her knitting or sewing … 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 all night…she decided that she wouldn’t go to bed at night, and she didn’t …[the night of the sinking] she felt this little ‘bump’ as she always described it, because we were a long way from it. We were on the port side of the ship and the collision was on the starboard side of the ship, and had she been asleep it wouldn’t have wakened her… she immediately awakened my father… My father went away and spoke to one of the sailors and came back and said ‘We’ve hit an iceberg…they’re going to launch the lifeboats but you’ll be back on for breakfast.’ They started to lower the boats and my father put my mother and I in without any trouble at all…I never saw him again…he told me to hold my mommy’s hand and be a good girl, that’s all he said. The panic seemed to me to start after the boats had gone, we could hear it…after we were rowing away from the ship…then we could hear the panic of people rushing about on the deck and screaming and looking for lifeboats…I was terrified…it was dreadful…the bows went down first and the stern stuck up on the ocean what seemed to me like a long time…but it stood up stark against the sky and then keeled over and went down, you could hear the people screaming and thrashing about in the water…and finally the ghastly noise of the people thrashing about and screaming and drowning, that finally ceased. I remember saying to my mother once, ‘How dreadful that noise was’ and I’ll always remember her reply, she said, ‘Yes, but think back about the silence that followed it…because all of a sudden the ship wasn’t there, the lights weren’t there and the cries weren’t there.’ *
Can you imagine how those cries must have sounded? The last desperate screams as death overtook women, children, and men alike. It must have been horrible. Survivors have talked about the silence that followed, as one after another, the more than one thousand people in the freezing water slowly succumbed to the deadly cold. The dark eerie calm of the sea was intensified in the eyes of the living, by the sound of the dead in the silence. Eesh
*Titanic voices
Monday, May 07, 2007
Ramses II
Even though I find the era of pharoahs in Egypt very, very cool, and consider myself a Egypt freak, there are a few of their customs that are very gross. Take Ramses II, he had at least six chief wives, and dozens of lesser wives and concubines. Several of the girls he married were foreigners he married for alliances; he had at least two Hittite brides, one Syrian princess, and one Babylonian. He also married several Egyptian women of royal blood, at least his sister and three daughters. He had 90 children in his 67 year reign. Eesh! The two Hittite queens were sisters, their mother was the queen of the Hittites, her name was Queen Puduhepa. She actually kept up some sort of corrospondance with Queen Nefertari, Ramses’ Great Wife. The letter she sent to Queen Nefartari was never found, but Nefartare’s message back to Queen Puduhepa was this:
“With me, your sister, all goes well; with my country all goes well. With you, my sister, may all go well; with your country may all go well. Behold now, I have noted that you, my sister, have written to me, to enquire after my well being. May the sun god and storm god bring you joy; and may the sun god cause the peace to be good and give good brotherhood to the great king, the king of Egypt, with his brother the great king, the king of Hatti, forever. And I am in friendship and sisterly relations with my sister the great queen of Hatti, now and forever.”
All that just to wish her well.Yikes! It’s kinda stiff and long, she should have just said:
“i’m good.thanx dude 4 the note,i hpe you hve peace,man.friends 4ever,The Great Queen of Egypt.”
That would have been much, much easier to understand!
“With me, your sister, all goes well; with my country all goes well. With you, my sister, may all go well; with your country may all go well. Behold now, I have noted that you, my sister, have written to me, to enquire after my well being. May the sun god and storm god bring you joy; and may the sun god cause the peace to be good and give good brotherhood to the great king, the king of Egypt, with his brother the great king, the king of Hatti, forever. And I am in friendship and sisterly relations with my sister the great queen of Hatti, now and forever.”
All that just to wish her well.Yikes! It’s kinda stiff and long, she should have just said:
“i’m good.thanx dude 4 the note,i hpe you hve peace,man.friends 4ever,The Great Queen of Egypt.”
That would have been much, much easier to understand!
Saturday, May 05, 2007
A Mystery?
Allllright, I have been kind enough to let Star Wars Freek write something, we are now partners of a sorts. He has written this thing here:
History, a Mystery?
How did I get here?
How did any humans get here?
Evolution, many would say. That we simply evolved.
What does this mean?
That I evolved from a monkey? Or a fish? Why not add in a rock, or a tree, just for the heck of it!
Evolution, Baloney! The two go together like ham and eggs.
What are the odds of a complex creature like me evolving out of pretty much nothing?
What could be more absurd?
I will tell you what!
That I believe all life on this world, and all the worlds in this universe, was created by one all-powerful being.
You may have heard of him. His name?
Oh, yeah, his name is God.
Now that sounds absurd!
But not to me!
This is what’s really absurd!
That God would send his one and only beloved son to come down to earth, to be born as a baby. A baby sent to save all the world from our sins. This baby, Jesus, took our sins on his shoulders. Sins so horrible, so destructive, so hateful that God could not even look at his beloved son as he died a horrible death for us, for me and for you.
With his death what was accomplished? What was achieved? Nothing!
Then why did he die? Because death could not hold him down; after three days he was raised from the dead. And with his life we live, free from sin. What an accomplishment!
Dose this mean that we no longer sin? Of course not! But God has forgiven us for our sins. It’s easy as A.B.C. We just have to...
Admit that we have sinned
Believe that Jesus died for our sins.
Confess our sins to God, and ask that he come live in our hearts.
God has prepared a feast in heaven and we’re all invited. Did you R.S.V.P.?
Think it’s absurd?
I believe every word of it!
And God wrote it all down for us in his holy word, the Bible; you should check it out!
Evolution?
HA!
God created us with just a thought, and if that doesn’t blow your mind, then I don’t know what will!
By the infamous Star Wars Freek
Wow!
History, a Mystery?
How did I get here?
How did any humans get here?
Evolution, many would say. That we simply evolved.
What does this mean?
That I evolved from a monkey? Or a fish? Why not add in a rock, or a tree, just for the heck of it!
Evolution, Baloney! The two go together like ham and eggs.
What are the odds of a complex creature like me evolving out of pretty much nothing?
What could be more absurd?
I will tell you what!
That I believe all life on this world, and all the worlds in this universe, was created by one all-powerful being.
You may have heard of him. His name?
Oh, yeah, his name is God.
Now that sounds absurd!
But not to me!
This is what’s really absurd!
That God would send his one and only beloved son to come down to earth, to be born as a baby. A baby sent to save all the world from our sins. This baby, Jesus, took our sins on his shoulders. Sins so horrible, so destructive, so hateful that God could not even look at his beloved son as he died a horrible death for us, for me and for you.
With his death what was accomplished? What was achieved? Nothing!
Then why did he die? Because death could not hold him down; after three days he was raised from the dead. And with his life we live, free from sin. What an accomplishment!
Dose this mean that we no longer sin? Of course not! But God has forgiven us for our sins. It’s easy as A.B.C. We just have to...
Admit that we have sinned
Believe that Jesus died for our sins.
Confess our sins to God, and ask that he come live in our hearts.
God has prepared a feast in heaven and we’re all invited. Did you R.S.V.P.?
Think it’s absurd?
I believe every word of it!
And God wrote it all down for us in his holy word, the Bible; you should check it out!
Evolution?
HA!
God created us with just a thought, and if that doesn’t blow your mind, then I don’t know what will!
By the infamous Star Wars Freek
Wow!
Friday, May 04, 2007
We wish you...
Today we want to say Happy Birthday to two very special people, Lauren and Stephie. So:
Happy 14th Birthday Lauren!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Happy 15th Birthday Stephie!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
We love both of you, and since you aren't here right now, WE MISS YOU!
I had to do very little today, because we are leaving, like, right now to pick up my grandparents!
Happy 14th Birthday Lauren!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Happy 15th Birthday Stephie!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
We love both of you, and since you aren't here right now, WE MISS YOU!
I had to do very little today, because we are leaving, like, right now to pick up my grandparents!
Thursday, May 03, 2007
The Goodwin Family
Well, I have been informed that I have not been writing at all about the Titanic, and that is obviously true. What I have found out from previous experience, is that it is possible to come out with nothing to write, so I have been saving all my Titanic nonsense for when nothing at all is happening in my boring life to write about. I was meaning to post some pictures of her, but as I said, my computer is evil and hates me, so I am afraid that it is impossible to have any cool pictures. Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh! But I will start posting something about the Titanic as soon as I write it. There is one very, very sad thing I found out from one of the million books I have read about her. As she was sinking, a officer (No one knows who) shut closed a section of the ship filled with third class passengers trapping them inside, knowing that if the water could not get in, it would slow the sinking. This kept her afloat longer, but also kept many people from any hope of escaping. Doubtlessly, if the place had been filled with first class passengers, matters would have been different. There were many instances, where whole families died. Such as the Goodwin family, they were a family with six children, Lillian, Charles, William, Jessie, Harold, and Sydney. It is very sad to think about them, considering that they had six kids and all. They all died.
Lillian Amy Goodwin
SUMMARY
Age: 16 years
Last Residence: in Melksham Wiltshire England
Occupation: Servant 3rd Class passenger
First Embarked: Southampton on Wednesday 10th April 1912
Ticket No. 2144 , £46 18s
Destination: Niagara Falls New York United States
Died in the sinking.
Body Not Recovered
Charles Edward Goodwin
SUMMARY
Age: 14 years
Last Residence: in Melksham Wiltshire England
Occupation: Scholar 3rd Class passenger
First Embarked: Southampton on Wednesday 10th April 1912
Ticket No. 2144 , £46 18s
Destination: Niagara Falls New York United States
Died in the sinking.
Body Not Recovered
Jessie Allis Goodwin
SUMMARY
Age: 10 years
Last Residence: in Melksham Wiltshire England 3rd Class passenger
First Embarked: Southampton on Wednesday 10th April 1912
Ticket No. 2144 , £46 18s Destination: Niagara Falls New York United States
Died in the sinking.
Body Not Recovered
Hrarold Victor Goodwin
SUMMARY
Age: 9 years
Last Residence: in Melksham Wiltshire England 3rd Class passenger
First Embarked: Southampton on Wednesday 10th April 1912
Ticket No. 2144 , £46 18s
Destination: Niagara Falls New York United States
Died in the sinking.
Sydney Leslie Goodwin
SUMMARY
Born: Friday 9th September 1910
Age: 1 years 7 months and 6 days.
Last Residence: in Melksham Wiltshire England 3rd Class passenger
First Embarked: Southampton on Wednesday 10th April 1912
Ticket No. 2144 , £46 18s
Destination: Niagara Falls New York United States
Died in the sinking.
Died in the sinking. Died in the sinking. Died in the sinking. Died in the sinking. Died in the sinking. Died in the sinking. Died in the sinking... :(
Body Not Recovered
I wish I could do their pictures, but I can't. Which is too bad, little Sydney was very cute.
There. Something on the Titanic, too bad it's very sad.
Lillian Amy Goodwin
SUMMARY
Age: 16 years
Last Residence: in Melksham Wiltshire England
Occupation: Servant 3rd Class passenger
First Embarked: Southampton on Wednesday 10th April 1912
Ticket No. 2144 , £46 18s
Destination: Niagara Falls New York United States
Died in the sinking.
Body Not Recovered
Charles Edward Goodwin
SUMMARY
Age: 14 years
Last Residence: in Melksham Wiltshire England
Occupation: Scholar 3rd Class passenger
First Embarked: Southampton on Wednesday 10th April 1912
Ticket No. 2144 , £46 18s
Destination: Niagara Falls New York United States
Died in the sinking.
Body Not Recovered
William Frederick Goodwin
SUMMARY
Age: 11 years
Last Residence: in Melksham Wiltshire England 3rd Class passenger
First Embarked: Southampton on Wednesday 10th April 1912
Ticket No. 2144 , £46 18s
Destination: Niagara Falls New York United States
Died in the sinking.
Body Not Recovered
Jessie Allis Goodwin
SUMMARY
Age: 10 years
Last Residence: in Melksham Wiltshire England 3rd Class passenger
First Embarked: Southampton on Wednesday 10th April 1912
Ticket No. 2144 , £46 18s Destination: Niagara Falls New York United States
Died in the sinking.
Body Not Recovered
Hrarold Victor Goodwin
SUMMARY
Age: 9 years
Last Residence: in Melksham Wiltshire England 3rd Class passenger
First Embarked: Southampton on Wednesday 10th April 1912
Ticket No. 2144 , £46 18s
Destination: Niagara Falls New York United States
Died in the sinking.
Sydney Leslie Goodwin
SUMMARY
Born: Friday 9th September 1910
Age: 1 years 7 months and 6 days.
Last Residence: in Melksham Wiltshire England 3rd Class passenger
First Embarked: Southampton on Wednesday 10th April 1912
Ticket No. 2144 , £46 18s
Destination: Niagara Falls New York United States
Died in the sinking.
Died in the sinking. Died in the sinking. Died in the sinking. Died in the sinking. Died in the sinking. Died in the sinking. Died in the sinking... :(
Body Not Recovered
I wish I could do their pictures, but I can't. Which is too bad, little Sydney was very cute.
There. Something on the Titanic, too bad it's very sad.
Wednesday, May 02, 2007
Bits and pieces of camping!
OK, I know I promised that I would tell all about my camping trip, but I have seen the light! I have realized that my camping trip was only interesting to the people that were there, and since no one who went there will ever go on here, I don't see any point writing about it. I had the funnest time in the world though, staying up on a hill/mountain for hours just watching the activity going on below, that is probably why I had such a bright red nose! One of the people next to us had a lean-to type tent, and the boy rolled out of the back during the night (Which, by the way, was COLD!), only a few more feet, and he would have rolled down a hill and into one of the lakes! What was extremely annoying was that in the morning, everyone was freezing, but it slowly got warmer, and then everyone was burning in the afternoon. Especially me, for I didn't wear my bonnet, and I was dressed in several layers of clothing. I stayed mostly to myself the whole time because I didn't know anyone, but I did talk a bit with one of the only girls there, and I talked a little with a few younger girls, and I talked a bit with a couple older boys, and I played with a little boy, and then there was the few grown ups here and there. Considering the fact that I am really shy around strangers, I would say that I did pretty well! Oops, I just realized that I was talking about the camping trip! Beware, bits and pieces of the trip may pop in sometimes through my writing! I really wanted to put some pictures onto here, but this computer is SO DARN SLOW, that it is impossible to do so. I was able to do the one on the side bar for some reason, but posting? Nada.
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