Irish Aboard Titanic (42 page)

Patrick Smyth (76), farmer, widower, cannot read.

Son:
Thomas (25)
.

Roger Tobin (21) Lost

Ticket number 383121. Paid £7 15s.

Boarded at Queenstown. Third Class.

From: Lisgibbon, Bansha, County Tipperary.

Destination: 243 East 45th Street, New York city.

A quantity of hurley-sticks was among the more arcane consignments of cargo stored in the
Titanic
's holds. The ash sticks were intended for hurling teams among the Irish amateur sportsmen on the other side of the Atlantic and were specially brought aboard by Roger Tobin. They may still be in good condition two and half miles under the ocean. Some wood inside the wreck has survived the attention of wood-boring organisms, and linseed oil-treated
camáns
(the Irish word for the sticks) may not have proved to their liking.

Roger Tobin was 21 and from Bansha, Tipperary, heading to New York. After the impact, he journeyed the length of the ship from his own quarters – he was in dormitory room 38 on F deck on the port side of the bow – to the aftermost accommodation designated solely for the single women. There he alerted Katie Connolly, Kate Peters and Kate McCarthy to the danger, telling them to get up and put on their lifebelts. All four were from Tipperary and now a long way indeed from their home place, or from any other land for that matter.

The late Mr Roger Tobin, who was only in his 22nd year, was a splendid type of Tipperary man, and was a universal favourite. As already stated, he was famous in the local Gaelic fields as a hurler and footballer, and brought with him on his voyage a fine collection of camáns.

(
The Cork Examiner,
24 April 1912)

The same edition reported elsewhere in relation to the Tipperary party:

At second Mass in Bansha on Sunday morning, the celebrant, the Rev D. Moloney CC, said it was feared that two of their parishioners were amongst the victims of the great catastrophe. One of the three had happily been saved.

He was personally aware that in accordance with the customs of Irish Catholics, they had approached the sacraments before leaving. The rev. gentleman, who was deeply moved, asked the people to pray for their eternal rest. The congregation, amongst whom were the weeping mother and sister of young Mr Tobin, responded with a heartfelt prayer, and the scene was extremely touching.

Katie McCarthy, a Tipperary survivor, wrote home from New Jersey to tell her family of the tragedy. She said she had been called to get up by Roger. ‘He told us not to be frightened as there was no danger.' He told the three Kates to get their lifebelts. Miss McCarthy wrote of her companions: ‘When Roger Tobin called me, I wanted them to come up on deck, but they would not come. They appeared to think there was no danger. That was the last I saw of them.'

Local lore around Katie Peters' home place suggests she was a sweetheart of Roger Tobin and that the couple were hoping to make a future together in the New World. Certainly a girl might do worse:

Mr Tobin, son of Mr Patrick Tobin, farmer, was a young man of splendid physique and noted in the Gaelic field for his prowess as a hurler and footballer.

Their names do not appear amongst the list of survivors in this morning's papers and their relatives are anxiously awaiting tidings of their fate.

(
The Nationalist,
Clonmel, 17 April 1912)

Roger had been working in Kelly's men's drapery in Tipperary, but decided he would be better off in America where some cousins lived. His family splashed out the considerable sum of £25, equipping him with a spanking new suit and overcoat they thought would help him land a good job in America. Roger was due to lodge at a New York rooming house initially. Interestingly, Katie Peters was due to stay at the same address, which tends to support an oral heritage that they were romantically involved.

Roger may have stayed behind to comfort Katie Peters in her compartment on E deck or F deck, while Katie McCarthy wisely chose to ascend at least five decks to where the boats were waiting. Roger's devotion may have led to his laying down his life.

His mother, Margaret, reputedly had a dream that he was in difficulty on the night he died and was awoken from her nightmare by ghostly taps on the window. She was convinced it was a final leave-taking.

Gael Lost
in
Titanic

On Sunday last, a meeting of the Galtee Rovers F.C. (Bansha) was held, and all the members attended. After some trivial business being transacted, those present spoke with deep emotion of the terrible disaster to the
Titanic
and the now certain fate of their late comrade and fellow-Gael, Mr Roger Tobin. It was with great regret that the Galtees suffered poor Roger to go away to seek his fortune in a foreign land, but with what sorrow did they learn of his untimely fate; yet from the times of first news of shipwreck up to a few days ago, everyone hoped against hope that this splendid young fellow would be saved by some means, but now all hope is abandoned, and another young life is added to the list of those lost. Heartfelt sympathy was expressed with the parents, brothers and sister of Mr Tobin in their sad bereavement. It was unanimously decided to have Masses offered up for the repose of his soul, and may that repose be a peaceful and everlastingly happy one.

(
The Nationalist
, Clonmel, 4 May 1912)

On 9 September 1912, his family received the grant of administration of his estate. His father, Patrick, received legal entitlement to the £40 6s left behind by ‘Rodger Tobin, late of Lisgibbon, Bansha, County Tipperary, farmer's son, who died 15th April, 1912, at sea'.

1911 census:

Patrick (55), Margaret (52), married 24 years, six children, five alive; Patrick (22), Mary (20),
Roger (19)
, William (18), David (16).

Ellen Toomey (48) Saved

Ticket number 13531. Paid £10 10s.

Boarded at Southampton. Second Class.

From: County Cork.

Destination: 119 Bates Street, Indianapolis, Indiana.

Ellen Toomey was nothing like the swarms of young Irish girls who crowded into steerage. Although she had been born in Ireland, Ellen had been living in the United States for many years and was a domestic servant. She was unmarried and was returning to the house of Mrs Bridget Hannery, where she worked, after a blissful visit home to her mother and relatives in County Limerick.

Ellen had returned to Ireland in November 1911 and had tried to book her return voyage on four other ships before she finally found a berth on the
Titanic
. The coal strike had interfered with her plans, but she finally managed to send postcards to her sisters in Indianapolis saying she was sailing on the new White Star liner.

She may have been rescued in lifeboat No. 3, launched from the starboard side relatively early in the night. On 24 April 1912, she described what happened in an interview with the
Indianapolis Star
:

The wreck was due purely to carelessness. It could not have been otherwise.

I do not know whether the stories are true or not, but it was common talk among the survivors that the man in the lookout was asleep at the time and that the Captain and the other officers were not doing their duty, but that they were below at a banquet when the crash came.

Oh those cries and screams of the poor, drowning people. The sound was awful. I shall never forget it. But we did not see any of them in the water. We were too far away from the
Titanic
when it went down to see those who had leaped or who had been washed into the sea. But we could hear them for some little time. Then all was still and we knew the last of them had perished.

Toomey shared a Second-Class cabin with two women and a child. Shortly after midnight a ship's steward told them to put on lifebelts and go on deck:

There was no confusion or excitement. We were ordered to the side of the ship along with the other women. The men stood aside. They were brave, those men on the
Titanic
. They were real heroes. The order was given to lower the lifeboats, and one boat on our side of the ship was loaded with women and children and lowered to the water.

An officer stood by with drawn revolver. I did not see him shoot. He threatened to shoot a man because he did not do what the officer told him to do, but finally the man obeyed. But I heard several shots on other parts of the ship. Who did the shooting I do not know.

I was put into the second lifeboat on the starboard side and I think there were about 30 persons in our boat. In the number were three members of the crew who had been ordered there by the officers. When we were lowered to the water we found two other men in the boat who had sneaked in some way.

There was room in our boat for more people, but the hurry of loading and the fact that people thought the boat could not sink probably accounted for the fact that there was not a full load. When we struck the water the men rowed our boat rapidly away from the
Titanic
because when we left the ship we could see that it was gradually lowering in the water. After we were at a safe distance we drifted about.

We could see the
Titanic
was sinking little by little and it was evident that it would go down. When there was but little of the ship above the water there was a loud explosion. We could hear it plainly. Then the
Titanic
stood on end and made a dive straight down and that was the last of it. Then it was that one heard those awful screams from the drowning people. We could not see them.

We drifted in the lifeboats for seven hours before being picked up by the
Carpathia
. Our boat was the second or third that was picked up. The night was not very dark. The stars were out, but there was no moon. The sea was smooth as a lake. As we drifted about we saw icebergs all around us. They were everywhere. Some were very large and high. The one which was pointed out to us as the one which the
Titanic
struck was not large, at least it was not high out of the water. The weather was bitter cold.

Most of the women in our boat were thinly clothed because some of them were told to go back to bed after the collision and had done so, only to be aroused later when it was too late to dress. The weather was bitter cold, and there was much suffering in the boat. One French woman who had lost her husband became frantic in her grief, but we calmed her. This was the only confusion in our boat.

When we saw the
Carpathia
coming towards us it was the grandest sight that mortal eyes ever witnessed. It meant our deliverance. There was a loud shout of joy as the ship approached. All of the lifeboats kept as close together as possible while drifting and seven of them were tied together to keep them from being separated and lost.

Once we were on board the
Carpathia
, we were treated with all the consideration that could be shown us. They were very kind and good to us. Men gave up their rooms and women passengers shared their rooms with the
Titanic
survivors. They gave us clothes. They gave us hot brandy and coffee and took the best of care of us. Five or six of the survivors, however, died on board the
Carpathia
.

I shall never forget the bravery and heroism of the men on the ship in the hour of despair. I tell you, they were brave men. They stood aside while the women were loaded into the boats, and only a few of them tried to get in a boat. Some of them did, but the officers drove them back.

Report of the American Red Cross (Titanic Disaster) 1913:

No. 453. (Irish.) A houseworker, 50 years old. Injured. ($100)

Ellen was born on 2 February 1864 to parents John Toomey and Mary Brandon. She died on 23 December 1933 in Indianapolis. She was 69 and had never married.

Selected crew from Ireland

Henry Ashe (34) Lost

Steward.

From: Glenbeigh, County Kerry.

ASHE – Drowned while on duty on board SS
Titanic
, Henry Wellesley Ashe, second son of the late Wm. St George Ashe, and grandson of the later Rev. Henry Wellesley Ashe, Rector of Glenbeigh, County Kerry.

(
Cork Constitution,
29 April 1912)

The body of steward Ashe was recovered by the
MacKay-Bennett
search vessel, chartered by the White Star Line for the purpose and dispatched from Halifax, Nova Scotia.

No. 34 – Male. Estimated age 34. Hair, dark. Moustache, light.

Clothing – Blue suit and green shirt.

Effects – Gold watch and chain; keys; knife; 2 books; Freemason's book; photos; papers; lodge badge ‘Nat. Union Ship's Stewards, Butchers and Bakers'.

Name – H. W. Ashe, 15 or 17 Wysdale, Aintree.

His body was taken to the morgue and was buried in Fairview Cemetery, Halifax, on 8 May 1912.

Sad loss of a husband and father

Henry Wellesley Ashe, aged 40, of 15 Wyesdale Road, Aintree, was a steward on board the
Titanic
. He leaves a wife and three children, of whom the eldest is seven years old and the youngest one year and eight months.

(
Liverpool Daily Post and Mercury
, 20 April 1912)

Richard Baines (54) Lost

Greaser.

From: Dublin.

Baines signed aboard the
Titanic
giving his local address as 9 Union Place, Southampton. But other records clearly show him to be from Dublin, although his exact Irish address is not known, nor any other details about him.

He may have been the owner of a gold telescopic pencil recovered from the wreck site and inscribed ‘R.L.B. Xmas 1908'.

William Burke (30) Saved

Dining-room steward.

From: Queenstown, County Cork.

57 Bridge Street, Southampton.

William Burke saved a woman from drowning when she jumped from the
Titanic
but missed the lifeboat. He caught her by the ankle and held fast in one of the most terrifying individual incidents of the whole drama. The woman was then taken back aboard the ship at the deck below.

A dining-room steward in First Class, Burke was assigned to Isidor and Ida Blun Strauss, the elderly founder of Macy's Department Store in New York and his wife, who chose to die together when the supreme test came. In his testimony to the American inquiry, Burke told Senator William Alden Smith how he was in his bunk, awake, in a dormitory of dining room stewards, when the ship struck:

‘When I first felt the impact I did not know exactly what to make of it. I thought probably she had dropped her propeller, or something. I did not get up right away. I waited for probably a quarter of an hour. About a quarter of an hour or 20 minutes later the order came to get out lifebelts and get up on deck and take our overcoats.

‘Mention was made of the fact that it was very cold. I immediately got up with everybody else. Everybody was taking a lifebelt. I did not at that time bother about a lifebelt. I put on my coat and dressed in the ordinary way. As we were going out one of the last men said, “There is a lifebelt near my bunk, if you want one.” I went back and got this lifebelt, and carried it out and took it up on deck. I went to the boat deck on the starboard side.

‘I went to my station from there and found my boat (No. 1) had gone. I thought the next best thing to do was to assist with some other boat … As I got to No. 10 boat, the Chief Officer was there [Henry Wilde].

‘I just heard him say, “How many seamen are in that boat?” The answer came back, “Two, sir.” He turned to some man standing there and said, “Is there any man here can pull an oar?” Nobody answered, but a man who seemed to me like a foreigner got close to him, and I didn't hear what he said, but he simply pushed him aside, and said, “You are of no use to me.” I went to him and told him I could pull an oar but was not anxious to go unless he wanted me to go. He said, “Get right in there”, and he pushed me toward the boat, and I simply stepped in the boat and got in …

‘When there were no more women to be had around the deck the Chief Officer gave the order for the boat to be lowered. I might say that about the last woman that was about to be passed in slipped, and was about to fall between the ship and the boat when I caught her. I just saved her from falling. Her head passed toward the next deck below. A passenger caught her by the shoulders and forced me to leave go. It was my intention to pull her back in the boat. He would not let go of the woman, but pulled her right on the ship.'

Senator Smith
: ‘Do you know who the woman was?'

– ‘No sir; I did not know her.'

Senator Fletcher
: ‘Do you know whether she succeeded in getting into another boat or not?'

– ‘I couldn't say. I supposed she got into another boat.'

(US Inquiry, pp. 821–826)

Able seaman Frank Evans said that the woman wore a black dress, and suggested that perhaps her heel had caught in the
Titanic'
s rail as she jumped. He testified that after her rescue she came back up to the boat deck, jumped, and this time landed safely in lifeboat No. 10.

Burke later returned to England on the Red Star Line's SS
Lapland
. He stayed working on the sea and in related trades, and retired to Liverpool, originally White Star's home port.

The late William Burke, from Albert Edward Road in Wavertree, was a ship steward. He was woken by a fellow crewmember, who came up to his bunk bed brandishing a piece of ice which had sheered off the iceberg as it hit the ship.

In an interview with the Echo, he recalled: ‘I was sent to lifeboat station number ten and when a woman passenger leapt to board it, she slipped and was about to fall into the sea when I grabbed her.

‘I hung on to her, but it was a terrific strain. Then, just as I thought I must let go, we reached the level of the next deck and two sailors clasped her by the head and shoulders and hauled her to safety.

‘Our boat was so full that everyone had to stand. At first we could not believe the
Titanic
would sink … but sink she did, and the hours from when I was roused from my bunk to the time we got picked up by the
Carpathia
are not ones which I am anxious to recall.'

(
Liverpool Echo
, 1956)

Timothy Casey (38) Lost

Trimmer.

From: County Cork.

Sailors' Home, Southampton.

Nothing much is known about Casey, apart from the fact that his death benefited relatives in the United States. His nephew, William James Casey, of Texas and five nieces received compensation payments after they were tracked down by a diligent lawyer and offered a deal. Relatives continue to live in Longview, Texas.

It appears he may have been an agricultural labourer from Rea, Castlehaven, near the small ports of Castletownshend, Union Hall and Glandore, all of which had strong seafaring traditions. Living alone with his elderly mother, Johanna, by the 1901 census, he may have gone to sea following her death.

William Clark (36) Saved

Fireman.

From: Greenore, County Louth.

30 Paget Street, Southampton.

Clark had previously served on the sister ship
Olympic
. As a fireman, he was very lucky to escape the wreck of the
Titanic
(his means of doing so remains unknown), since only thirty-six out of a total of 167 stokers lived. More remarkably still, Clark also survived a proportionately greater maritime disaster just two years later, when the 14,000-ton
Empress of Ireland
was struck by the collier
Storstad
in the St Lawrence river, sinking in just a quarter of an hour and taking the lives of 1,014 of her 1,477 passengers and crew.

This is from
The Times
account of interviews with
Empress of Ireland
crewmen on their return to Britain aboard the
Corsican
in June 1914. It was submitted by the newspaper's Glasgow correspondent:

A Comparison with the
Titanic

Much the most interesting of the personal statements given in answer to questions was made to me by William Clarke [
sic
] a fireman of Liverpool – actually a survivor of the
Titanic
disaster – a quiet, matter-of-fact old man with a grey moustache and kindly eyes, rather toil-worn. He said:

‘I was a fireman on both the ships. It was my luck to be on duty at the time of both accidents. The
Titanic
disaster was much the worst of the two. I mean it was the most awful. The waiting was the terrible thing. There was no waiting with the Empress of Ireland. You just saw what you had to do and did it.

‘The
Titanic
went down straight, like a baby goes to sleep. The
Empress
rolled over like a hog in a ditch. I was shovelling coals when the
Empress
was struck. I heard the engines stop. I ran up to my boat, No. 5. We swung her down, but the list of the ship threw her out from the side into the water, and then the hooks of the davits loosed off and she floated away.

‘I had to dive into the water to catch her. By that time the ship was just going. I heard screaming and then helped to pull people out of the water. We were picked up by the Storstad.'

(The Times, 10 June 1914)

A major follow-up interview with Clark appeared less than a fortnight later in an Irish newspaper. It revealed amazing new details about how he had cheated death before. From the
Dundalk Democrat
of Saturday 27 June 1914:

If ever a fireman bore a charmed life it is Fireman William Clark, of the ill-fated liner
Empress of Ireland.

An insatiable thirst for adventure has carried him all over the world. He has heard the thunder of big guns on the warships of Britain's fleet; he has been wounded by sniping Boers on the blood-stained veldt of South Africa; he has been given up for lost when suffering agonies on a sick bed in a military hospital; has been carried to almost certain death in the mighty
Titanic
; hurled from the torn deck of the
Empress of Ireland
when she plunged to her doom in the dark waters of the St Lawrence – and, fit and well in spite of it all, he still survives to tell the tale.

Flirting with death

Ever since he came to man's estate, William Clark, the quiet, unassuming fireman of the lost
Empress
, has flirted with death. Not once in generations is it given to a man to face peril after peril in this way and come practically unscathed through it all. Yet, if you ask William Clark whether he has not tired of adventure and intends to settle down to a quiet life, he will answer you quietly: ‘I shall go down to the sea again when I am ready and as soon as I can get another ship!'

I found Clark at his home in Bootle yesterday. Let me describe him to you. In appearance he is a typical Irishman, with the soft dark hair and big blue eyes which have earned for the lassies of his race a reputation for beauty that is known throughout the world. There is a look of fearless honesty in those blue eyes of his, and when you talk to him you get the impression of a calm, quiet man, calculated to keep his head and act with coolness even in moments of the greatest excitement and danger.

A full dark moustache hides the lines of his mouth, and he strikes you as being too kindly of disposition to be what one would describe as a ‘firm man'. But there is an air of quiet courage about him, and you feel instinctively that this is a man you could rely upon in any emergency involving danger. He is about 43 years of age and unmarried.

When I saw him he was still wearing the clothes cut on the American style, which were supplied to him after the
Empress
catastrophe, in which he lost everything he had with him. He looks grotesque, and it is almost amusing to see him walking in the square-toed, dome-capped boots beloved of the Yankee – brown boots with soft felt uppers.

They are very small, and it is a strange thing about this remarkable man that one of his few vanities is an abounding pride in the smallness of his feet.

William Clark could tell of many hairsbreadth escapes on land and sea if he would, but though he has come safely through them all, the horror still clings to them and has left its mark upon him. He does not like to talk of these things, and it is with difficulty that one can persuade him to unfold the pages of the past.

Except in his appearance one can hardly call him a typical Irishman. He lacks much of that spontaneous gaiety and vivacity of bearing – that quick impulsiveness which has set a kind of trademark on Irishmen all the world over. But his looks stamp him as Irish beyond question, and that craving for adventure may also be counted among the attributes conferred upon him by his nationality.