When the Titanic sank April 15, 1912, there was, indeed, a tragic loss of life. Of the 2,240 souls who sailed on Titanic, over 1500 men, women, and children went down with the White Star liner. Widows and orphaned children mourned their losses, and the loss of an “unsinkable” ship caused a shock wave that is still rippling across our culture. Since three times as many first-class men survived in the lifeboats as the number of steerage class children who drowned, the myths of class and male chivalry were severely challenged.
Note. Everyone knows that Captain Smith went down
with his ship. Roughly 75% of the crew
perished when the great ship sank. Less
widely known is that the crew included two children, Frederick William Hopkins
(Plates Steward) and William Albert Watson (Bellboy), both only 14 years
old. Exactly what happened to the two
children is unknown, but neither made it to the safety of a lifeboat.
Besides the immense loss of life, the sinking of the RMS Titanic
also resulted in the loss of valuable cargo, including works of art, a valuable
and rare book, and the property of all those who were traveling on the
ship. Did you know that part of that
lost cargo included some important and irreplaceable books?
Probably the most valuable book lost with Titanic was a
jewel-encrusted copy of The Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam that was a unique
and lavishly decorated edition. This
book, often referred to as “The Great Omar”, was so carefully crafted that it
took the London bookbinders, Sangorski and Sutcliffe, three years to complete.
The book, nicknamed ‘The Great Omar’ was being shipped aboard the Titanic to a New York book collector but it never arrived and was never recovered. Twenty years later, the same bookbinders decided to make a second copy of the book, using the drawings and notes created for the first volume. It took years to remake the book and when finished, the book was promptly destroyed by German bombers in The Blitz. The bookbinders are still in business today, but they do not plan to create a third copy of the book.
Among the casualties was the American journalist and author,
Jacques Futrelle. Futrelle had received
great acclaim for his detective stories featuring Professor Augustus S. F. X.
van Dusen, a scientist who solved the toughest cases through logic and
scientific reasoning. After publishing
forty short stories under the title, “The Thinking Machine”, Futrelle traveled
with his wife to Europe, to do research to write more stories. Following their visit to London and Scotland
Yard, they booked a first-class suite for their return to New York, where
Futrelle was to meet with his publisher.
After the ship collided with the iceberg, Futrelle reassured his
wife that there was no cause for alarm, but insisted she board lifeboat No.
9. Futrelle, himself, refused to enter
the lifeboat, even though it was only half full. The last May Futrelle saw of her husband, he
was calmly smoking a cigarette next to John Jacob Astor.
The last I saw of my husband he was standing beside Colonel Astor. He had a cigarette in his mouth. As I watched him, he lighted a match and held it in his cupped hands before his face. By its light I could see his eyes roam anxiously out over the water. Then he dropped his head toward his hands and lighted his cigarette. I saw Colonel Astor turn toward Jacques and a second later Jacques handed the colonel his cigarette box. The colonel screened Jacques' hands with his own, and their faces stood out together as the match flared at the cigarette tip. I know those hands never trembled.
Futrelle’s body was never recovered. In 1913, May Futrelle filed a claim against
the White Star Line for the loss of her husband, their property, and two lost
unpublished book manuscripts. The claim
was never paid. If you have never read
“The Thinking Machine Stories”, you can read one of the best stories here.
Joseph Conrad, the author of Heart of Darkness and Lord Jim, was
not aboard the Titanic that fateful night, but one of his handwritten
manuscripts was. The short story,
Karain: Personal Recollections, was being shipped to New York, to a bibliophile
who was willing to pay the author $40 to add the manuscript to his
collection. Conrad, who was destitute at
the time, had failed to take out insurance on the shipment, so he received no
compensation for the loss.
The short story had been previously published in 1897, in the literary publication, Blackwood’s Magazine, and it deals with gunrunning and a Malay chief’s quest for revenge. While the plot , in my opinion, is equal to similar adventure stories by Kipling or Haggard, it is also a stinging denouncement of English Imperialism. You can read the original magazine article here.
Financially pinched, Conrad struck back the only way he could: in
print. In a series of essays, Conrad
blamed the shipping company, the shipbuilders, the Board of Trade, technicians
in general, and just about anyone who had ever even seen the ship. He even speculated about the reports of
muffled explosions within the ship how does project—sounds that we now know
were, in reality, the sounds of the doomed vessel tearing itself apart (a fact
that the White Star Line went to great lengths to denounce).
The Titanic had two libraries aboard—one for the First Class passengers and a smaller “cozy” library, located at the aft end of C deck, for the Second Class passengers. Evidently the White Star company decided that Steerage Class passengers either couldn’t or wouldn’t read, so no accommodation was made for them. While called libraries, the rooms were more like tea rooms where passengers could drink tea, write letters, and read comfortably. Unfortunately, no details remain about the books available in either of the two libraries, nor did any of the books from the libraries survive. The photo of the second-class Library at left is from the Titanic’s sister ship, the RMS Olympic.
Let’s end on a positive note, however. The loss of the Titanic did lead to the creation of one great library. One of the first-class passengers was Harry Elkins Widener, whose collection of rare books included a Shakespeare First Folio. As the Titanic sank, Harry’s mother made it into a lifeboat, but Harry, his father, (as well as his father’s valet) remained on the ship and perished. In memory of her son, Mrs. Widener donated his collection, along with a bequest of $2 million, to his alma mater. Today, the collection is part of the Harry Elkins Widener Memorial Library at Harvard University. Harry’s uncle, figuring that if Harry had lived long enough would have eventually purchased a Gutenberg Bible, donated one to the collection in his nephew’s name.
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