Read Irish Aboard Titanic Online

Authors: Senan Molony

Irish Aboard Titanic (46 page)

Ernest W. King had been aboard the
Olympic
in September 1911 when she collided in the Solent with the cruiser HMS
Hawke,
having to put back to Southampton with a large hole in her starboard quarter caused by the warship's ram. He gave his address as Currin Rectory, Clones, when signing aboard the
Titanic
.

His body was eventually found by the search vessel
Minia
, from Halifax, with Captain W. G. S. DeCarteret cabling the White Star Line on 1 May 1912:

Today Tuesday, northerly gale, misty. Found body T.W. King, purser's assistant, Lat 41.30, Long 48.15, being forty-five miles east of that found yesterday, showing how widely scattered and difficult to find with no reports from passing steamers to help me. Icebergs numerous as far south as 40.30 in 48.30.

King's was the only body he had found that day. The day before, in another cable, DeCarteret had expressed his belief that late northerly gales had swept bodies into the Gulf Stream and had carried them many miles east. A little earlier, one of his crewmembers, Francis Dyke, had written to his mother during a stint on watch in the wireless room. ‘There has been a lot of wind + bad weather since the accident so the bodies are much scattered, some we picked up over 130 miles from the wreck as they go very fast when in the Gulf Stream – very likely many will be washed up on the Irish coast, as they are all going East.'

The body was catalogued as number 321. Still floating more than two weeks after the sinking, only five more were recovered. King's age was estimated as 25, but no listing has been found for his clothing and effects. Returned to the morgue in Halifax, a permit for burial in Fairview Cemetery was issued on 9 May 1912, three and a half weeks after the wreck.

His impressive black granite headstone records ‘in loving memory' that he ‘died on duty, SS
Titanic,
15 April 1912'. A verse at the base adds: ‘Nothing in my hand I bring, simply to thy cross I cling.'

William H. Lyons (25) Lost

Able Seaman.

From: Meat Market Lane, Cork.

27 Orchard Place, Southampton.

Young William Lyons almost managed to save himself. He was dragged alive into lifeboat No. 4 having jumped from the
Titanic
in its final throes and swimming through frigid seas that ‘cut like a thousand knives', according to surviving Officer Lightoller. But the effort was too much. Exhausted, Lyons succumbed to the ravages of exposure and lapsed into a coma on board his means of salvation. He was later pronounced dead when taken onto the rescuing
Carpathia
.

Ironically, he could have survived – had Quartermaster Walter J. Perkis not peremptorily thrown away into the deep a bottle of brandy brought aboard No. 4 by another of those rescued, storeman Frank Prentice. Crewmen were forbidden alcohol. ‘It might have been the means of saving life,' Prentice ruminated later, ‘as we picked up two firemen who had been in the water a long time, and one afterwards died in the boat as the result of exposure.'

Fireman Thomas Patrick Dillon told how he recovered consciousness in lifeboat No. 4 after similarly swimming to safety ‘and found Sailor Lyons and another lying on top of me dead.'

Stateroom steward Andrew Cunningham gave a flavour of death and comradeship in No. 4 when he told the US inquiry on its eighth day of evidence of his desperate leap overboard from the
Titanic
with fellow steward Sidney Conrad Siebert:

‘I had a mate with me. We both left the ship together.'

Senator Smith
:
‘Did he have a life preserver on?'

Cunningham
:
‘Yes, sir … I waited on the ship until all the boats had gone and then I took to the water. I went into the water about two o'clock, I should say. About half an hour before the ship sank. I swam clear of the ship about three-quarters of a mile. We saw the ship go down then. Then we struck out to look for a boat.'

Senator Smith
:
‘Did you see one?'

Cunningham
:
‘No, I heard one and I called to it.'

Senator Smith
:
‘Did that lifeboat come toward you, or did you go toward it?'

Cunningham
:
‘I went toward it … It was No. 4 boat. They picked us up. There was my mate, who died just after he was pulled in… '

According to evidence given by
Carpathia
's Captain Arthur Rostron, Lyons was alive but unconscious when taken aboard his ship at 8 a.m. on 15 April, dying some hours later. He is believed to have been finally pronounced dead at midnight. His remains were buried from that vessel in weighted canvas sacking with three others in a foggy 4 a.m. ceremony on Tuesday morning, 16 April. The other bodies are believed to have been those of Abraham Harmer (Third-Class passenger), William Hoyt (First-Class passenger), taken dead from No. 14, and Sidney Siebert (bedroom steward), whose body was removed from lifeboat No. 4.

A picture of William Henry Lyons appeared in
The Cork Examiner
of 23 April 1912:

W.H. Lyons, Market Lane, Cork, who was unfortunately amongst the victims. It seems that young Lyons was saved from the wreck but afterwards died through exposure in one of the lifeboats. The above photo was taken when he was only sixteen, during his apprenticeship.

The
Cork Constitution
recorded:

Cork Dramatic
Society

At a special meeting of the Cork Dramatic Society held on Saturday, Mr D. Corkery in the chair, Mr C. O'Leary proposed, and Mr D. P. Lucey, BA, seconded, the following resolution –

That we, the members of the Cork Dramatic Society, desire to express our sincere sympathy with Mr J. F. Lyons, BA, on the loss of his brother in the
Titanic
disaster.

(
Cork Constitution
, 22 April 1912)

The chairman was renowned English professor Daniel Corkery, who had founded the dramatic society with Terence MacSwiney, later lord mayor of Cork, who died on hunger strike. Corkery composed a poem on the tragedy, published in the
Irish Review
in May 1912. Entitled ‘In Memoriam' and dedicated ‘to my friend John F. Lyons, on the loss of his brother William H. Lyons of the crew of the
Titanic
', it contains these lines:

Because of one whose voice I never heard,

Whose face, whose eyes, to me were never known,

My heart, despite the clodding years, is stirred

And stabbed by every ruthless rumour blown

Across the breadths of sea.

1901 census – Lyons

Henry (44), publican. Catherine (45), wife.

Children:
William Henry (14),
Denis James (12), John F. (11).

Ellen Lyons, servant (28), barmaid.

William McCarthy (47) Saved

Able Seaman.

From: 9 Grattan Hill Road, Cork.

William's picture and address appeared in
The Cork Examiner
of 23 April 1912. He was said to be ‘fortunately amongst the survivors'.

It is known that he survived in lifeboat No. 4, which he helped to crew. It left the port side of the
Titanic
at 1.55 a.m. and dragged in several men from the sea, including McCarthy's fellow crewmember from Cork, William H. Lyons, who died.

McCarthy returned to Britain on the
Lapland
, but was never called to give evidence at the official inquiry. He retired to Cork after a long seafaring career. He liked to make decorative anchors out of wood and shells, and is thought to have died in the 1930s.

1911 census – 9 Grattan Hill Road.

Widowed mother Catherine McCarthy, 80, born Cork. Daughter Kate, 35, born in England.

The 1901 census for the same address also showed Catherine, 69, as a widow, with Kate, 27, a dressmaker. Another daughter was present, May Ellen, 22.

Hugh Walter McElroy (37) Lost

Chief Purser.

From: Tullacanna, County Wexford.

Polygon House, Southampton.

Chief Purser on the
Titanic
was a huge responsibility – and it was filled by an Irishman who was larger than life and the last word in gallantry.

Hugh McElroy occupied a critical shipboard position for the White Star Line. As Purser, he was the company's main interface with the bulk of passengers. They came to his office on C deck for everything – to lodge and retrieve valuables for safe keeping, to hand in wireless messages to pass on to the Marconi room, to report a leaky tap in a stateroom wash-hand basin, to organise a games of quoits on deck, right down to buying a ticket to the Turkish bath on F deck, and yes, renting the deckchairs ($1 per voyage).

McElroy was the perfect man for the job, because he clearly was an effortless arranger even during his short stays on shore. On 9 April, while still in Southampton, McElroy and his Wexford-born wife, Barbara, sent flowers in the Danish national colours of red and white to Miss Adeline Genée, a famous dancer. Perhaps she had been an important passenger in the past, but the gesture was particularly polished given the fact that Miss Genée was due to perform a special ‘flying' matinee at the Southampton Hippodrome two days later – the afternoon after the
Titanic
sailed.

McElroy was still oozing charm and goodwill at Southampton when Francis Browne, the clerical novice soon to become famous for his photographs on board the
Titanic
, called to his office on C deck, ‘where a letter of introduction served as a passport to the genial friendship of Mr McElroy'.

The soul of urbanity, McElroy was also a favourite of Captain E. J. Smith, and the two men were photographed together on deck, the Purser appearing with his hands joined behind his back, an image of strength at the master's right hand, and ever ready to do his bidding.

The Cork Examiner
, which took the famous shot, noted in its issue of 15 April, while unaware of the unfolding tragedy:

On the right of the picture is Commander E. J. Smith, R.D., R.N.R., to whose skill and watchfulness is committed the care of the great ship and her freight of close on four thousand souls. He is one of the heads of his profession, and he has a long and extensive connection with the White Star Line. The Captain may be the best, but unless the Purser knows everybody and everything, and combines the perfection of urbanity, tact, prompt appreciation of circumstances – in fact, is the best of fellows – his passenger list does not fill all the time, but on any ship on which Chief Purser McElroy has filled that position, the booking has always been complete well in advance of the sailings.

In fact the
Titanic
was by no means full. But that simply allowed McElroy to indulge his special charm with the ladies. Mrs Henry B. Cassebeer recalled visiting the
Titanic
's Purser soon after boarding to ask for an upgrade from Second Class. It was done at once and Mrs Cassebeer ended up with one of the finest First-Class staterooms ever created for ocean-going luxury, the bulk of which were on this vessel. She remembered running into the Purser a little later and, pushing her luck, asked that it be arranged that she should dine at the Captain's table. McElroy's reply, quoted in Walter Lord's
The Night Lives On
, was: ‘I'll do better than that. I'll have you seated at my table.'

On that fatal Sunday, just after midnight, when the
Titanic
engines had stopped after impact with the iceberg, bathroom steward Samuel Rule was investigating the oddity when he saw Purser McElroy on A deck ‘in deep conversation' with Second Steward George Dodd. He expected to receive orders, but none were given.

At ten past midnight, stewardess Annie Robinson saw McElroy accompany Captain Smith in the direction of the mailroom, where water was within six steps of coming up onto E deck. ‘About a quarter past twelve, or round about that time' Second Steward Joseph Wheat was going up to C deck when he met McElroy looking over the banisters. ‘He saw me coming and told me to get the men up and get … lifebelts on the passengers and get them on deck.' The Purser had been talking urgently to two or three officers, including Chief Steward Andrew Latimer. At ten minutes or a quarter to one, Wheat was again given orders by McElroy, to get all the men to their stations at the boats.

McElroy's communication skills were at the fore when disaster struck and the Captain needed trusted men about him. There is evidence he played a major role in harnessing the passengers to their task of putting on lifebelts and preparing to abandon ship. Quietly, too, it seems he was passed a loaded revolver. Although not strictly one of Smith's officers, McElroy had assumed a position of veiled yet real power.

He was next seen outside his office on C deck, where a queue for valuables had begun and was being quickly processed by assistant pursers who emptied the safe. He later addressed the crowd, who were standing around in confusion, urging them to go up top. The Countess of Rothes moved close by and McElroy declared: ‘Hurry, little lady, there is not much time. I'm glad you didn't ask me for your jewels as other ladies have.'

McElroy followed his clucking flock, then returned to his duties. He was later seen in the company of his fellow Irishman, Dr W. F. N. O'Loughlin, the senior ship's surgeon. Soon, however, he made his way to the boat deck, where chaos reigned and where every man of authority was desperately needed. McElroy answered the call.

Saloon steward William Ward witnessed Mr McElroy with First Officer Murdoch and J. Bruce Ismay, Managing Director of the White Star Line, at boat No. 9 on the starboard side. ‘Either Purser McElroy or Officer Murdoch said: “Pass the women and children that are here into that boat”,' said Ward. McElroy next ordered himself and bathroom steward James Widgery into the boat ‘to assist the women'. They went.

Before anyone left on board could draw breath, it was nearly 2 a.m. Just two boats remained on the starboard side, with a collapsible hanging in the davits perilously close to the slowly submerging superstructure. A crowd had surged down to it, milling about the restraining officers and crew.

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