Ismay Confesses, the World Reacts and Plans Are Made
New York City, J.P. Morgan & Company headquarters, 15 April, 1230 hours EST (Titanic's time: 1430 hours) . . .
"My God Almighty . . . "
"You have to admire the man."
Hearing that from his smiling wife, John Pierpont Morgan Jr -- known to his friends as "Jack" -- blinked before he nodded. "Yes, you do have to admire the man. Lord knows, there's going to be boards of inquiry about this whole incident on both sides of the Atlantic. That's he's willing to stand up and take the blame for what happened shows this man has courage in spades."
"What could happen to him?" his wife, the former Jane Grew, asked.
Morgan considered that for a moment before he stood up and walked over to the window, gazing down on Wall Street below. "We own some of the shares in White Star, as does his family and others." By "we," he meant the financial firm owned by his father -- now touring in France -- that had helped White Star and four other transatlantic ocean lines to come together to form the International Mercantile Marine Company, one of the largest sea transportation firms on the planet, with a considerable share of the North Atlantic passenger and cargo markets. "If Ismay turns this around and shows that even with the accident concerning Titanic and that iceberg, the ship is still viable and can be rebuilt and improved on, he'll survive as the president of IMM. If he chooses to resign none the less, we'll support him all the way." He waved to the small pile of wireless telegraph messages that had been pouring in from the Grand Banks of Newfoundland over the last few hours. "He's already got a lot of good ideas coming out right now. No doubt, Andrews and his people are preparing all the improvements they can put into Titanic as soon as they get her into drydock."
"But when?" his wife asked. "They have to get the ship back to Ireland, Jack; that was where she was built."
Hearing that, Morgan blinked, and then he frowned. As things were going, it would take at least two to four days for Titanic to get to Halifax and unload her passengers. White Star officials in New York were already making all the necessary arrangements to get the passengers transported from Nova Scotia to New York overland once they were free of the customs and immigration officers. Such was being done without extra charge to the passengers; J.P. Morgan & Co. (with the immediate approval of Morgan's father thanks to a quick telegram from his current location near Lyon) had floated a loan to White Star to pay for all the expenses. Atop that, both the American and Canadian Red Cross Societies, dozens of church organisations across the Canadian Atlantic provinces and the New England and Middle Atlantic states were moving to provide extra support to ensure that this nasty incident would be resolved as quickly and painlessly as possible for all of Titanic's passengers regardless of class.
But what of the ship itself . . .?
Initial reports indicated that she had been flooded in the first three watertight compartments from the bow back to the forward end of the boiler spaces. Not enough to actually sink the ship -- Thank God for that! Morgan mused -- but enough to make things decidedly dicey for the final days and hours of the aborted maiden voyage. Fortunately, the Leyland ship Californian and the Cunarder Carpathia were staying with Titanic. They would soon be joined by the Allan Line's Virginian and the Canadian naval cruiser Niobe would deploy tonight to provide towing assistance if it was required. Given Captain Smith's plan to sail backwards into Halifax, though . . .
The son of one of America's richest men could only grin at that show of British chutzpah in the face of both common sense and reason. While he could understand why Smith wanted to sail his ship into port until her own power -- to do otherwise would be practically admitting to the travelling public that the Olympic class liners were a total failure, especially when one tacked this incident to the incident in the Solent the previous September with Olympic and the British cruiser Hawke -- he was potentially going to make the problems Titanic was now suffering worse. Morgan was no expert on shipbuilding, but he had contacted engineering officers in the Brooklyn Navy Yard for their opinions. To the last, they had warned that thanks to Titanic hitting that wall of ice while travelling at her standard speed of 21 knots, there was a strong chance that there was a lot of shock damage throughout the ship that -- even if it hadn't shown up already -- would come back to haunt the crew when they least expected it . . .
Maybe . . .
"Why not?"
"Why not what?"
Morgan perked, and then flustered as he realised he had spoken that question aloud. "An idea, dear," he said as he gave his wife a reassuring smile, and then he moved to open the door to his private officer. "Miss Higgins?"
One of the secretaries then came in, a pencil and notepad in hand. "You wanted to see me, sir?"
"Yes. Take this down and have it taken to the Marconi office to be sent out to the Titanic as quick as possible," Morgan began . . .
* * *
Washington, the White House, around the same time . . .
"So the ship won't sink?"
"No, Mister President," Secretary of the Navy George von Lengerke Meyer stated with a firm shake of the head. "She's lost her three forward compartments, but the rest of the ship -- at least, according to the reports we've gotten from her -- appears sound." He then chuckled. "I have to admit, Captain Smith has got a lot of brass to be willing to pilot the ship backwards to Halifax . . . "
"Why not Boston or New York?" William Howard Taft demanded. And his concern was understandable, the others in the room were quick to note; the President's chief military aide, Major Archibald Butt, was a passenger on the White Star liner on the return trip home after a vacation necessitated by health reasons.
"Sir, the damage on Titanic is just too much to risk such a long voyage," Rear Admiral Bradley A. Fiske, the Aide for Operations and Secretary Meyer's chief military advisor, responded. "Right now, she's about 520 nautical miles from Halifax, which has a nice deep harbour for a ship that size to sail into. Boston is 870 nautical miles away and New York is a thousand nautical miles away; a thousand and 1150 standard miles respectively, sir." A shake of the head. "With over two thousand lives on that ship, Captain Smith just doesn't want to risk it."
"What about Newfoundland?" the President asked.
"The only deep harbour there is St. John's, the Dominion capital." Fiske moved to indicate the location spread out on the map in the Oval Office that he had brought in to give the President a better understanding of the situation surrounding the largest liner on the planet. "Now, the harbour is deep enough for the ship to sail into, but it's just too narrow, especially given the fact that Smith is sailing Titanic astern. He wouldn't risk that harbour if he could avoid it."
Taft nodded. "How soon?"
"At latest report, he's been forced to slow down to five knots," Meyer stated. "Since he's got over five hundred nautical miles to go to get to Halifax, the best time of arrival will be in a little over four days. Even if Niobe, Virginian or any of the other ships close to her takes her under tow, it will be about the same amount of time."
"Friday or Saturday, you mean."
"Yes, Mister President."
A sigh. "My God . . . " Taft breathed out. "You have to admire the man's courage."
"It's the rational thing to do, sir," the Secretary of the Navy stated. "The Olympic class ships have been plagued with a bit of bad luck since the problem with Olympic and that cruiser last September off the Isle of Wight. And given what could have happened here . . . "
The President nodded; Fiske had shown him the drawings and explained what could have happened had the Titanic's sides brushed against the iceberg in lieu of what had really happened to her. "Over a thousand dead . . . " he then mused. "Why is that, by the way?"
"Sir?" the Navy rear admiral asked.
"Why is it Titanic only carries twenty lifeboats? The total capacity was only . . . what? Eleven hundred? My God, there are over twenty two hundred people on that ship right now and she can carry over three thousand, crew included! Who in their right mind would allow a ship to sail without enough lifeboats?"
"Actually, the British Board of Trade allows it, Mister President," a new voice then spoke up. As people gazed on Secretary of Commerce and Labor Charles Nagel, the former Missori judge then smirked. "It's a really outdated rule, sir. Ships over 10,000 gross tons are only obliged to carry sixteen lifeboats with a total capacity of 5,500 cubic feet of space, enough for about a thousand people. Of course, that was put into place back in 1894, Mister President."
"Long before ships like Titanic could even be imagined," Meyer added.
"Save one."
Eyes locked on Fiske. "Who?" Taft demanded.
"The Great Eastern, sir," the Navy admiral stated before he pulled out a sheet of paper and showed it to his commander-in-chief. "Built by Isambard Brunel in 1858, eventually scrapped in 'Eighty-nine. She was 692 feet long, 82 feet wide, displaced thirty-two thousand tons, had a gross registered tonnage of nearly 19,000 and she was built with a full double hull and eleven watertight bulkheads that went straight from the keel to the weather deck."
"That's the ship that laid the transatlantic cables, right?" Nagel wondered.
"The very same, Mister Secretary. She was originally designed for the Australia run, hence the need for so many sails as well as paddle wheel and screw propulsion. She had the world's worst luck when it came to being used for what she was designed for, but when she was converted to lay the first cable from Ireland to Newfoundland in 1865, she was perfect for the job."
"And had enough lifeboats on her," Taft noted as he tapped that particular point on the drawing that had been made comparing Brunel's largest creation with the liner that was now occupying all their time.
"That she did, sir. Mister Brunel was quite ahead of his time."
"Well, I think it's time that we take these lessons to heart," the President then stated. "Charles, who's the senator who hates Morgan so much?"
"William Alden Smith, sir; he's from Michigan," Nagel replied.
And he's a Republican, the President then mused. Perfect. "Go talk to him. Tell him I will gladly support a bill that will made it necessary for ALL passenger ships entering the waters of the United States to have the necessary amount of lifeboats needed to get all the souls off a sinking ship. If we can get it passed before the election gets started in earnest . . . " He shook his head as he considered what might happen at the convention in Chicago in June. With the noise his predecessor was now making about a potential comeback . . .!
The former judge of the Missori Supreme Court nodded, trying not to smile himself; he could guess what was on his superior's mind at this time. "Yes, sir. I'll speak to Senator Smith later today."
"Excellent." Taft then hummed. "So by Saturday, all the people will be off that ship and she'll be safe in port. What happens then, George?"
"Well, the next thing to do is get her into a drydock and get the damage repaired," Meyer replied. "As Admiral Fiske briefed you on, Mister President, there'll be more than just the actual physical damage in the ship's bow to take care of. She sailed at full speed right into an iceberg; there's bound to be a lot of shock damage to worry about as well. It amazes everyone over at the Navy Office that she's still able to sail under her own power, even if she's going backwards." As the others in the Oval Office all laughed at that, he added, "They won't scrap her, sir. That's an admission of defeat. And the Brits won't do it."
"By the sounds of it, Ismay won't even think of it," Nagel noted.
A nod. "Good. So where will she go?" Taft asked.
"Most likely, back to her birthplace, Mister President," Admiral Fiske replied. "Harland and Wolff in Belfast."
"Is she going to sail backwards from Canada to Ireland?" Nagel asked.
More laughter. "If she makes it, I'll gladly sail on her any day or anywhere, Mister Secretary!" Fiske replied.
The others in the room enjoyed a long chuckle at that. The President then hummed. "Wait a minute . . . "
Everyone gazed at him. "Sir?" Meyer prodded.
Taft hummed as he considered it for a moment, and then he gazed on his desk. "The Resolute . . . "
"Sir?" Nagel asked, clearly confused.
Fiske, however, was quick to clue in. "Mister President, are you proposing . . .?"
"Why not?" Taft said as he gazed on the admiral.
The Aide of Operations blinked as he considered that, and then he nodded. "Sir, it could be done."
"What could be done?" Nagel demanded.
Fiske gazed on the Missori judge. "Having Titanic rebuilt here in America."
Silence.
"What?" Meyer gasped. "Why?"
"Doesn't an American own that ship?" Taft wondered.
The former member of the Massachusetts House of Representatives blinked, and then he slowly nodded. "Well, it's a little muddled in this case, sir. British law doesn't allow a foreigner to actually own a ship that's home-ported in a British port; Titanic is home-ported in Liverpool. So in their eyes, the ship is clearly British. However, the company that owns and runs the ship is part of an international conglomerate that's primarily financed from American banks."
"So let's coach it this way," the President stated. "If Smith makes it to port with no casualties, we'll immediately offer to have Titanic towed to a Navy yard . . . " He gazed to Fiske. "Where?"
The admiral sighed. "It would have to be Brooklyn, sir. Portsmouth and Boston simply don't have a drydock that can hold a ship Titanic's size."
"What about up in Canada?" Nagel asked.
A shake of the head. "Nothing for a ship of that nature, not in Nova Scotia or anywhere on the Saint Lawrence River to Montréal, Mister Secretary." Fiske then gazed on the President. "Your orders, sir?"
"If Smith gets to port under his own power and with no fatalities -- or minimal fatalities -- we will immediately offer to tow Titanic to Brooklyn and help in her repairs and upgrades," Taft stated. "Given the amount of wealth that's on that ship right now, I'm sure people like Astor, Guggenheim, Straus -- hell, even old Morgan himself even if he wasn't aboard -- will pitch in to help. If necessary, we'll underwrite the finances for the reconstruction. And if doing that makes sure that the British, the Germans and the French comply . . . "
"Would the British go along with it, sir?" Nagel asked.
"They will. Once I personally remind King George of the Resolute."
"What's that?" Meyer wondered.
"It was one of the ships used by the British naval squadron sent out to locate Sir John Franklin when he went missing in the Arctic back in the 1850s, Mister Secretary," Fiske responded. "A whaler from Groton, the George Henry, found her adrift off Baffin Island in 1855. She was in near-perfect condition. So they had her brought down to New London, refitted and sent her back to Britain the very next year. After she was struck and scrapped, Queen Victoria had a desk made from her timbers and presented it to President Hayes in 1880."
"It's up in the old office in the main building," Taft added. "If we do this correctly, I'm more than sure His Majesty will convince his government to go along with this. A lot of Americans -- and a lot of future Americans -- are on Titanic at this time. We owe it to all of them to make sure that in the future, nothing like this happens again."
"Or nothing worse than this ever happens," Nagel added.
"Agreed. Oh, George?"
"Yes, Mister President?"
"Get people planning on putting in larger drydocks in Boston and Portsmouth, alright? If it's possible."
A nod. "Yes, Mister President," Meyer replied . . .
* * *
Aboard Titanic, the Boat Deck, 1610 hours . . .
"Who's BLOODY idea was it to put these damn things aboard this ship?!"
"Don't ask me, Mister Murdoch. But if you can convince Mister Ismay to change them, I think it'd do us a lot of good in the long term."
"What's going on, boys?"
William Murdoch smiled on hearing that bright voice, and then he turned to lightly bow his head to Molly Brown, his hand reaching to the peak of his cap in a quasi-salute. Everyone was on the starboard side of the Boat Deck by Collapsable C, which was now partially hidden by Collapsable A, which had been manhandled down from its position over the deckhead of the captain's sitting room to see if it could be effectively launched. Surrounding the two Englehardt collapsable boats were some of Titanic's deck crew, led by one of the ship's quartermasters, Arthur Bright. "Well, Mrs. Brown, we've just discovered yet another thing about the lifeboats of our ship," Murdoch said as he waved to the two collapsables. "These damned things wouldn't have been much use last night if the ship had sunk."
Brown took a moment to gaze on the two collapsables, and then she gazed onto Boat 1, which -- as it was a cutter and not just a normal lifeboat -- was always swung out over the side just in case she was needed to relay officers and personnel from ship to shore; Boat 2 on the port side of the deck behind the bridge wing was in the same sort of position. Gazing on the fully wooden boat in the number 1 position, then the slightly larger boats at the numbers 3, 5 and 7 position, she then looked back at the two collapsables before nodding. "You're damn right about that, Bill. Pity no one took up Thomas' idea about putting sixty-four of these boats . . . " -- she waved to Boat 3 -- " . . . on the ship instead of these things." She waved to Collapsable A in emphasis.
"Can that be done?" one of the ables'men, Albert Horswill, asked.
"Should be easy," Bright responded. "Just stack three of them right on the deck behind the ones that are in the davits."
"Maybe spread them out in a double pair along the whole length of the deck, too," another ables'man, Ernest Archer, proposed.
Murdoch blinked as his mind took that proposal in, and then he looked aft, his eyes focusing on the roughly 160 feet separating the aft end of Boat 7 from the bow of Boat 9. At least five more pairs of davits could be fitted in that space. And while stacking up three more boats in the space behind each davits did sound a little much, at least doubling what was already aboard and adding an additional twenty boats -- ten in the new davits with ten more behind them -- in the space between the davit blocks at the corners of the deck . . .
Fifty-two boats, the native of Dalbeattie near Dumfries in Scotland quickly concluded, and then he did a mental calculation. Each boat save Numbers 1 and 2 can carry sixty-five people each. Fifty boats times sixty-five is . . .! A pause. Thirty-two hundred and fifty people. Add Boats 1 and 2, which can carry forty each in a pinch, that means we would have the boat capacity for 3,330 people. Titanic can carry a total of 3,600 at maximum, including crew . . .! A shake of the head as he scowled. Damn! Not enough! Unless we double-stack the boats in the crew areas behind the original davits. Another quick mental calculation. Alright, that will give us sixteen more boats for a total of sixty-eight, which would make space for another 1,040 people. Add that to the total . . .? A smile. "Forty-three seventy . . . "
"Sir?"
Murdoch perked, and then he chuckled. "Sorry about that, Mister Bright. I was doing some thinking."
"About what?" Bright asked.
The first officer smiled as he pointed over, describing what he had in mind. Listening to that, the Woolston native -- Arthur Bright was one of the few of Titanic's deck crew to not hail from Southampton -- nodded. Brown also listened to it, comparing that to what Thomas Andrews was planning now as he and his "guarantee group" from Harland and Wolff worked away on the plans for the ship in the first class smoking lounge on A Deck aft. As all the ables'men nodded in approval of what Murdoch had in mind, the Denver native then spoke up, "Bill, why don't you go talk to Thomas about this?"
"Eh?"
"He's been debating about how many boats can be stacked on these ships," Brown stated. "Give him your idea. He'll appreciate it."
Murdoch smiled. "I think I will. Mister Bright?"
"Sir?"
"Get Collapsable A righted up and stack it atop C," the first officer ordered. "Get as many people as you can to help out. Once that's done, go over to the port side and get B down from atop the officers' quarters and stack it atop D. I don't think we'll need them now . . . "
Bright smiled. "It's better to be safe than sorry."
A nod. "Right."
"Aye-aye, sir!"
* * *
The promenade of Cabins B-52/54/56 ("Millionaire's Row"), on the port side of B Deck by Funnel 2 . . .
"How are you feeling now, Bruce?"
Bruce Ismay perked on hearing that kind question, and then he took a deep breath. "Terribly ashamed, Your Ladyship."
Gazing at the managing director of White Star and president of the International Merchantile Marine Company, the Countess of Rothes could only frown as she recalled how proud this man had been in the early days of the voyage from Southampton. Trumpeting up all of Titanic's many attributes to all who asked him . . .!
And now to have this weighing on his head!
"Well, at least it wasn't as bad as it could have been," the Countess stated as she sat down beside him. "And this was probably God's way of warning us that we were taking far too much for granted."
A nod. "That we were."
"But at least you're moving to correct things," she added.
Ismay considered that, and then he lightly smiled. He always had come off as quite arrogant to others, but that was to hide his true nature, the sensitive side of his soul which made him sympathetic to the underdog and pushed him to support all sorts of charities whenever he could afford to do so. He had been quite pleased when Ida Straus and Molly Brown had both suggested getting the crew and steerage passengers that were forced to evacuate from the forward parts of Titanic after the collision to safer quarters. Meeting those good people -- he had nearly broke down and cried when a young Lebanese girl, Maria Touma, had come up to him and said, "This is a good ship you made, M'sieur Ismay. Thank you for letting us travel on her." -- had reinforced his determination to make sure that what could have happened the previous night would never happen again on a White Star liner. "Thank God . . . "
"What?" the Countess asked.
"I was remembering one of the third class passengers," Ismay stated. "Lovely young girl from Lebanon; she's in the first class lounge now. Maria Touma's her name. She, her mother and her brother are travelling to Michigan to join their father; he migrated to America last year." A shake of the head. "She call this ship a 'good ship!' Can you believe that, Your Ladyship? This grand palace with so many things wrong with her . . . and that little girl called her 'good!'" He sighed. "Some of the wounds they suffered . . . "
"Well, the doctors are keeping an eye on things and there are doctors on both Carpathia and Californian who can help out. Not to mention the Virginian and the Niobe when they get here." The Allan Line ship was still several hours away from meeting up with the small fleet of ships slowly making their way to Halifax. The Canadian cruiser would clear port in several hours and meet up with them a day later. "And I know you're going to make this ship a truly 'good' ship, Bruce. We all do."
He perked. "I don't understand . . . "
She grinned. "The Americans picked up on it faster than we did, I confess," the Countess explained. "Madelaine Astor, Ida Straus . . . and especially Maggie Brown." As both of them laughed on thinking of the Denver native, she added, "You keep that side of you hidden from other people. I don't understand why, Bruce, but maybe what happened here was God's warning to you to be a little more open."
"Not too much," he said.
"No, not too much, but just enough to let people see how good a man you really are," she stated. "There's no shame in it, Bruce . . . "
A knock. "Mister Ismay?"
Both looked over as Ismay's secretary, William Harrison, peeked into the promenade from the doorway to one of the cabins. "What is it, William?" he asked.
"Sorry to bother you, sir. Your Ladyship," Harrison stated as he bowed his head to the Countess, who nodded in return. He then handed a small pile of sheets over. "From Mister Philips with his complements, sir. Messages for you personally."
"Thank you," Ismay said as he took the messages in hand.
"Please excuse me, sir."
And with that, the secretary ducked out. Ismay put the messages on his lap and began to scan them. "What are they?" the Countess asked.
"Messages of good wishes from heads-of-state . . . " He then smirked. "My God! Even the German Kaiser sent one!" he said as he held up a telegram. "Oh, my God . . . "
His voice then trailed off as the last one was read:
ISMAY,
HEARD ABOUT LEVEL OF DAMAGE TO TITANIC. ALL OF US HERE IN NEW YORK ARE PRAYING YOU MAKE HALIFAX SAFE AND SOUND. ASK ANDREWS IF TITANIC CAN MAKE IT BACK TO BELFAST ONCE PASSENGERS ARE ASHORE AND SAFE. IF NOT FEASABLE, WILL TRY TO ARRANGE A TOW TO NEW YORK FOR REPAIRS BEFORE LETTING TITANIC GO HOME. ONCE YOU HAVE A CLEAR ANSWER, REPLY SOONEST.
JACK MORGAN
"Is that from Mister Morgan?" the Countess, who had read the message, asked.
"His son; Mister Morgan's still in France. That's why he couldn't make the maiden voyage," Ismay replied, and then he sighed. "Would you excuse me, Your Ladyship?"
With that, he got up and moved to head out. The Countess watched him go, a smile on her face. A moment later, Ismay's valet, Richard Fry, stepped into the room with tea. "Something good, Your Ladyship?" he mused as he gave her a knowing look.
"Hopefully so," she stated, nodding her thanks . . .
To be continued . . .
**** **** ****
WRITER'S QUICK NOTE:
Since I couldn't find out what the actual speed astern for Titanic would be, I decided to round it out to five knots, which is a good, safe speed (so I believe; feel free to contradict me if I'm wrong) for a crippled ship going backwards while trailing a propeller and making sure a bad wound now "aft" doesn't get worse.
For those of you who don't know, in the early reports of the Titanic disaster, the Virginian (which was an Allan Line combo passenger-cargo ship doing a Montréal-Liverpool run) was initially reported to be towing the Titanic to Halifax (this was before the true story of the disaster got out finally thanks to the New York Times).
For those knowledgable in American politics of the period, 1912 was an election year; it was William Taft (R) versus Woodrow Wilson (D) versus Theodore Roosevelt (Progressive Party, AKA the Bull Moose Party). You might recognise all the people there; if you don't, go check Wikipedia. Also, note that the senior officer in the United States Navy at that time was NOT designated the Chief of Naval Operations; that would not come into effect until 1915 IOTL. And given the possible butterflies that could emerge from this storyline, that itself could be up in the air.
I could be tempted (as I am Canadian) to tack in a little increase of local naval power in the wake of all this here (as the RCN was just founded two years before), but that also won't come for a while yet.
More to come tomorrow (I hope!).
