National Museums Liverpool Blog - lusitania

Many flowers were left at the Lusitania's propeller at the service to mark the 97th anniversary of the sinking

On Bank Holiday Monday, Merseyside Maritime Museum held its annual commemoration for the sinking of Cunard liner 'RMS Lusitania'. Ellie Moffat, Curator of Maritime Collections, explains why this is an important event for the museum:

'Lusitania' had strong ties to Liverpool. She was registered in Liverpool, her home port, and was owned by Cunard, still based in the city at that time. The ship, referred to affectionately as “Lusie” by local people, was a familiar sight at the landing stage. In 1907 she sailed from Liverpool on her maiden voyage, bound for New York. Over 200,000 people came down to the Mersey to watch her depart. For the next eight years she provided a regular service across the Atlantic, breaking speed records along the way.

The sinking caused outrage and led to rioting in Liverpool and Birkenhead, and other cities across the world. It struck a tragic blow to the dockland communities in north Liverpool, where most of “Lusie’s” crew lived. 404 crewmen perished.

One of the most iconic objects in our collection is the port side four-bladed propeller that was salvaged from the wreck of RMS Lusitania by Oceaneering International Services Ltd, later acquired by the museum. It was one of four that drove Lusitania across the Atlantic. When she was launched in 1906, she was originally fitted with three-bladed propellers, but they were replaced with the four-bladed propellers in 1909 to improve her speed.

Each year on the anniversary, we hold an annual commemoration to remember those men, women and children who lost their lives. It was particularly poignant this year as were we are able to hold the commemoration around the propeller for the first time in several years.

During the event Ian Murphy, Deputy Director of Merseyside Maritime museum, gave an introduction. David Roberts, maritime historian and author, then gave a historical overview of “Lusie”. A short religious service was led by Father John Williams and a minute’s silence was held. To mark the end of the commemoration Ian Murphy laid a wreath at the base of the propeller on behalf of the museum. Many people attending also left flowers.

With the centenary only three years away, curatorial staff at Merseyside Maritime Museum are carrying out new research in to the 'Lusitania' and her connections to Merseyside. As part of this work, we would be very pleased to hear from local people with family connections to the famous ship and would encourage anyone to email us at:

lusitania@liverpoolmuseums.org.uk

Find out more about 'RMS Lusitania' in our gallery Titanic, Lusitania and the Forgotten Empress."

A contemporary postcard of Lusitania

This is probably my last Maritime Tales blog as I voluntarily leave the museum service in July 2012 to become a freelance.

The Lusitania story is one of my favourites because not only does the disaster seem unbelievable to this day but because this was Liverpool’s favourite liner.

At my local church – St James’s in West Derby – you can see a unique glass memorial with an image of Lusitania prominently included to symbolise Liverpool’s suffering in the Great War.

The strange behaviour of a passenger was followed by one of the great maritime disasters.

Robert Timmis was strolling along the deck with his work colleague Ralph Moodie when they saw a man strap on his lifebelt and climb into a lifeboat.

No-one could persuade the passenger – 43-year-old Michael Pappadopoulo,  from Greece - to get out.

Did he have a premonition? He must have been overcome with some overwhelming fear to take such drastic action.

Pappadopoulo spent an uncomfortable night in the lifeboat and presumably was relieved when the day dawned and everything was running smoothly.

It was 7 May 1915 and a glorious spring day as the Lusitania headed for Liverpool, the Irish coast on her port side

Timmis was a British cotton trader who was based in Gainesville, Texas. He and Moodie played medicine ball before going to lunch.

While they were eating, a U-boat submarine had stalked the Lusitania and fired a torpedo. Timmis later described the impact as a “penetrating thrust” – the ship was already listing when they had left the dining room.

Chaotic scenes followed as people scrambled for the boats as the great ship settled deeper and deeper into the water. Timmis was a big, solidly-built man and people sought reassurance from him.

Steerage passengers crowded around, many of them Russians who could not speak English.

Just 18 minutes after being struck by the torpedo, Lusitania took her final plunge. Both Timmis and Moodie were dragged down with her.

Timmis, a strong swimmer, remained remarkably calm and counted the 32 strokes it took to get back to the surface - he reckoned he had been sucked down 60 ft. He was later rescued by the Lusitania’s carpenter, Neil Robertson of Bootle. Moodie was never seen again.

At Merseyside Maritime Museum there is an inscribed photograph given by Timmis to his rescuer.

It reads: “To Neil Robertson, carpenter, Lusitania who took me into a damaged collapsible Lusitania boat about two hours after the ship had been torpedoed May 7 1915. I being in the water without a lifebelt. He acted as a good seaman and a brave man.”

Michael Pappadopoulo, whose forebodings had proved so correct, was also among the 1,200 people who died.

His wife Angela, wearing a sweater and trousers given by a crew member, swam a long way towards the distant shore before being rescued.

This is a version of my Maritime Tale that originally appeared in the Liverpool Echo,

Image courtesy Liverpool Daily Post & Echo

I once forgot to pay my bill when covering a big news story in Derbyshire – quite unintentional, of course.

It was at Glossop and the pub landlady came running out calling to me and waving the chit. I put it on my expenses later. In this story all those involved were happy to stay alive, never mind any unpaid bills.

The wealthy American businessman was savouring his time on the luxury liner, relaxing and sampling the varied menus

Charles Lauriat signed two bills for mineral water expecting to settle when he disembarked at Liverpool.

After dinner on 6 May 1915 40-year-old Charles went to a party with fellow American passengers and senior crew members. Life was good. He was on a business trip for the Boston booksellers Charles E Lauriat owned by his father.

Charles had one slight worry during the voyage – the threat of German submarines. America was neutral but the Germans had warned that British ships were legitimate targets.

He had been told the Lusitania would be escorted through the war zone but none materialised. During the voyage he was concerned because the Lusitania seemed to be travelling comparatively slowly.

Charles also noticed that a number of portholes were kept open and that passengers were given a lifeboat drill. He nervously kept a note of how many miles they covered daily.

On the morning of 7 May he noted that the ship was travelling slowly with the Irish coast in view. As he ate lunch he felt a cool breeze through the open portholes.

Shortly afterwards he was talking to two fellow passengers when they felt a muffled impact and the ship trembled. Smoke and cinders shot up on the starboard side – Lusitania had been torpedoed.

Charles helped people put on their lifejackets and get into lifeboats. Chaotic scenes ensued as people realised the ship was about to go under. Charles thought the open portholes were causing the ship to flood more rapidly.

Lusitania went down in 18 minutes with the loss of 1,200 lives. Charles leapt into the sea and managed to get into a collapsible boat. They rowed to safety at the Old Head of Kinsale lighthouse.

We know of Charles’ experiences because he wrote a fascinating book called The Lusitania’s Last Voyage.

He never paid for his mineral water. The two bills (pictured) can be seen in the Merseyside Maritime Museum’s Titanic, Lusitania and the Forgotten Empress gallery.

They bear Charles’ signature and the number of his stateroom, B5. They also carry the names of head waiter Sydney Le Touzel and bedroom steward Robert Morse – Liverpool men who also survived.

A new Maritime Tale by Stephen Guy appears every Saturday in the Liverpool Echo. A paperback – Mersey Maritime Tales (£3.99) – is available from the museum, newsagents and bookshops.

Image courtesy of the Liverpool Daily Post and Echo.

I find the words on the napkin, produced to commemorate one of the worst maritime disasters of the First World War, very moving.

To many people at the time the loss of the Lusitania came to symbolise Liverpool’s suffering, as she was the city’s favourite passenger liner.

The spectacular coloured glass war memorial at one of my local churches, St James’s in West Derby, uniquely uses an image of the doomed ship to silently express that grief.

He was just 31 years old, a much-loved husband and the father of a daughter he would never see – John Henry Hayes was one of the 1,200 innocent victims of the Lusitania disaster.

On a sunny day in May, in calm seas off the coast of Ireland, she was sunk in a surprise attack by a German U-boat submarine.

The Lusitania sank in just 18 minutes amid chaotic scenes as frantic passengers and crew tried to reach the lifeboats.

John, the ship’s junior fifth engineer, had left his pregnant wife Jeanette at their home in Bootle while he took another voyage across the Atlantic. It was 1915 and the First World War had started the previous summer.

The Lusitania, which had sailed regularly on Cunard’s Liverpool to New York run since 1907, carried on despite warnings from Germany that British ships would be attacked.

Poignant Hayes family photos are on display in the Merseyside Maritime Museum’s Titanic, Lusitania and the Forgotten Empress (of Ireland) gallery. We see John in uniform, his wife in a studio portrait and baby Jeanette born after her father’s death.

There are many items on display linked to the Lusitania. The sinking prompted a huge rush of commemorative items.

The memorial paper napkin was printed by the Palatine Press, Wigan. It has the headline: The Lusitania The World’s Most Popular Steamship.

Under a photo of the ship it says: "The Lusitania was one of the most sumptuous ships that ever ploughed the seas. Luxurious was her first class accommodation, but not one iota of possible comfort was sacrificed …

"In any direction the view was charming from the central hall. This spacious hall was 24 ft long, the full breadth of the ship. There were two electrically worked passenger lifts situated in the centre of the staircase."

The napkin includes other facts about the Lusitania and records: At the inquest held at Kinsale (Ireland) the verdict was "Wilful and wholesale murder against the Kaiser and Government of Germany."

A new Maritime Tale by Stephen Guy appears every Saturday in the Liverpool Echo. A paperback – Mersey Maritime Tales (£3.99) – is available from the museum, newsagents or bookshops.

I came across this story while reading about the conflict at sea during the First World War and was filled with gloom.

This liner seemed to have been earmarked for destruction from the start and was sunk even when under the protection of warships. Her brief life had been blighted by the misfortunes of other great ships.

The 32,234-ton Justicia was built for the Dutch Holland America Line at Belfast’s famous Harland & Wolff shipyard and launched just weeks before war broke out.

She was bought by the British Government but because of war shortages she was not completed until 1917 and named Justicia.

She was originally destined to be a replacement for the Lusitania (pictured) which had been torpedoed and sunk by a German U-boat submarine in May 1915 with the loss of 1,200 lives.

Cunard was experiencing manning problems so Justicia went to the White Star Line as a troopship because it had a crew available from the Britannic, Titanic’s sister ship sunk by a German mine.

Justicia was painted in camouflage paint, in common with other troopships, and worked successfully for a time in this role.  

In July 1918 she was travelling unladen from Belfast to New York escorted by destroyers. Justicia was torpedoed by the German submarine UB-64 23 miles south of Skerryvore lighthouse, Scotland.

Her watertight doors were closed, preventing her from sinking, and she was taken in tow by the tug HMS Sonia. It was intended to beach her in shallow water.

However, another submarine – the UB-124 – caught up and fired two more torpedoes which struck her side. Justicia sank surrounded by 30 Royal Naval and other vessels. Most of the crew had been taken off but 16 engine room personnel died. The UB-124 was sunk by gunfire from three Royal Navy warships.  

The Lusitania was eventually replaced by the Imperator, known as the German Titanic. She was handed over as part of war reparations and became the Cunard flagship, later renamed Berengaria.

There are contrasting models of the Berengaria and Lusitania in the Merseyside Maritime Museum.

The Lusitania waterline model is just three feet long and was made by James McKee, the ship’s carpenter from 1908 to 1915. He used a piece of damaged teak handrail from the ship to make the model’s hull.

McKee did not sail on the Lusitania’s final voyage. He left the model unfinished and it was completed for the museum by his son John in 1982.

A new Maritime Tale by Stephen Guy appears every Saturday in the Liverpool Echo. A paperback – Mersey Maritime Tales (£3.99) – is available from the museum, newsagents, bookshops or from the Mersey Shop website (£1 p&p UK).

A contemporary promotional Lusitania postcard, circa 1910

It is quite frequent now to see large crowds at Liverpool’s Pier Head when liners and cruise ships come in but at one time it was a very common sight indeed.

I can remember many people shouting and cheering when the Empress liners departed on scheduled Atlantic crossings. It was a memorable spectacle – just like this occasion more than 50 years earlier.

The Lusitania, from her maiden voyage to New York to her sinking by a German U-boat submarine eight years later, was Liverpool’s favourite liner among the many using the port.

The 31,550-ton Cunarder was a popular berth for many of the city’s seafarers who took pride in being members of the crew of this beautiful ship.

It was 7 September 1907 when Lusitania left Liverpool on her maiden voyage under the command of Commodore James Watt. She steamed into New York on 13 September after a trouble-free voyage – one she was to repeat many times before her terrible end.

At the time she was the largest ocean liner in the world and held that distinction until her equally lovely sister Mauretania entered service in November 1907. Both ships were also the world’s fastest liners when they held the Blue Riband for crossing the Atlantic.

Merseyside Maritime Museum’s Titanic, Lusitania and the Forgotten Empress (of Ireland) gallery has many items linked to all three doomed ships.

Both Lusitania and Mauretania were ordered by Cunard to restore Britain’s superiority over German ships in the Atlantic passenger trade. The year they entered service was particularly significant because Liverpool was celebrating the 700th anniversary of King John’s charter.

More than 200,000 people lined the banks of the River Mersey to watch Lusitania leaving on her maiden voyage. When Mauretania came into service they worked together providing an express service between Liverpool and New York.

The museum displays include a letter written by Mr C R Minnitt on the Lusitania’s first trip. He told his friend Ethel Poole: “You should have heard the people cheer.”

A card featuring an engraving of the Lusitania invites VIPs to view the liner in the Mersey three days before her maiden voyage. A contemporary colour brochure shows Third Class accommodation including Ladies’ Room, Smoking Room and a four-berth room.

A photograph of the First Class Dining Saloon features its splendid upholstered chairs with crystal glass on sumptuous tablecloths.  

All this was sent to the bottom of the Irish Sea on 7 May 1915 with the loss of nearly 1,200 lives including many Liverpool crew members.

A new Maritime Tale by Stephen Guy appears every Saturday in the Liverpool Echo. A paperback – Mersey Maritime Tales (£3.99) – is available from the museum, newsagents, bookshops or from the Mersey Shop website (£1 p&p UK).

Titanic survivor's apron

The Lusitania was torpedoed and sank within minutes, meaning that only the strongest and fittest had a chance of survival.

The sinking of the Titanic on the other hand took 2 hours and 40 minutes. This made a huge difference in the survivor profiles, as in a less panic-stricken evacuation the women and children were given priority in the lifeboats.

The report shows that "women of all ages on the Titanic had a probability of survival 53 per cent higher than for men, compared with an 11 per cent higher chance of dying on the Lusitania".

The incredible story of one of the women to survive the Titanic, Laura Mabel Francatelli, is told in the Titanic, Lusitania and the forgotten Empress gallery at Merseyside Maritime Museum, where her apron is on display. Laura was the personal maid and secretary to the famous couturier 'Lucillle', or Lady Lucy Duff Gordon, the wife of wealthy landowner Sir Cosmo Duff-Gordon. Her survival supports the theory in the New Scientist article that first class passengers had a definite survival advantage in the sinking of the Titanic.

Model of RMS Mauretania

Throughout our lives chance can play a decisive part – perhaps I am tempting fate but I believe you can change the course of events. I do not subscribe to the theory that events follow a predestined path.

The following story, though, tests my credulity. It really looks as if this was all pre-ordained, not simply a German U-boat captain seeing his chance and ruthlessly taking it.

They were both hugely popular in Liverpool but one of the beautiful sisters was to have a tragic end while the other carried on until the close of her natural life.

The Lusitania and Mauretania were both built in 1907, the pride of the Cunard fleet. They were bigger, faster and more luxurious than any liners before them – but were soon eclipsed by other giants of the seas as the race to capture lucrative business became ever faster.

The two ships were the first express transatlantic liners fitted with steam turbines. Although more renowned for their luxurious elegance, they also carried many Third Class passengers emigrating to the USA on the Liverpool – New York route.

The 31,550-ton Lusitania had a successful career until she was torpedoed by a submarine in May 1915 while heading for Liverpool, with the loss of 1,201 lives.

There were plenty of famous people on board, many of whom died. The artistic world lost such talents as the playwright Charles Klein and the founder of Dublin Art Gallery Sir Hugh Lane.

The business world was devastated by the loss of leading moguls such as multi-millionaire Alfred Vanderbilt and Paul Crompton, a director of the Booth Steamship Co, who died along with his wife and six children.

Lusitania sank in just 18 minutes and there was a terrifying scramble for the boats, and many people were trapped below decks because of the speed of the sinking.

An etching by W L Wyllie in the new emigrants’ gallery at Merseyside Maritime Museum shows the Lusitania in the River Mersey shortly before the First World War.

A 1:6000 scale model depicts the Mauretania at the Princes Landing Stage in 1911 (pictured). Among other ships on the river are tugs, a paddle steamer, ferry boats and fishing craft.

Mauretania captured the coveted Blue Riband (westerly) in September 1909 when she crossed the Atlantic at an average speed of 26.06 knots – a record which lasted 20 years.

She served as both a troopship and hospital ship during the First World War before resuming passenger services. Mauretania was scrapped in 1935.

There's more on the Lusitania, including items recovered from the ship, on our main site.

Maritime Archvies has also put together an information sheet on the Lusitania. There are also sheets on the great transatlantic liners and the Cunard Line. 

A new Maritime Tale by Stephen Guy appears every Saturday in the Liverpool Echo. A paperback – Mersey Maritime Tales (£3.99) – is available from the museum, newsagents, bookshops or from the Mersey Shop website (£1.50 p&p UK).

My postcard of the Republic

I sometimes go to postcard fairs and join the throngs of people leafing through piles of illustrated epistles mailed long ago with every sort of message and greeting. Each stall has cards sorted into themes and one of my favourites is ships and shipping. Recently I bought this card showing the Republic. I added it to my collection simply because I liked it, only later discovering the unique role this vessel once played.

One hundred years ago radio technology pioneered by Italian inventor Guglielmo Marconi and others became reality in saving lives at sea.

Two significant centenaries are being celebrated in 2009 – the first radio sea rescue and the award of the Nobel Prize in Physics to Marconi and Karl Ferdinand Braun for their contributions to the development of wireless telegraphy.

In the early hours of 23 January 1909 the 15,378-ton passenger liner Republic, owned by the Liverpool-based White Star Line, was steaming from New York to the Mediterranean with 742 passengers and crew. She entered thick fog off Nantucket Island, Massachusetts, and sounded her whistle 

Suddenly another whistle was heard directly in front of the ship. Republic’s engines were quickly thrown into reverse and her helm swung hard-a-port but then a ship’s bow loomed out of the fog and sliced into the Republic amidships.

As water poured into the disabled Republic’s engine and boiler rooms, radio operator Jack Binns wired his new Marconi set with backup batteries and sent out a distress signal using Morse Code – CQD, later replaced in popularity by SOS.

CQD is understood by wireless operators to mean All Stations: Distress (not Come Quick, Danger as is often thought).

The call was relayed to all ships in the area but the first ship on the scene was the Lloyd Italiano liner Florida – the ship that had crashed into the Republic. Passengers were transferred to the Florida, which was in no danger of sinking. Attempts by the captain and some crew members to save the Republic failed and she sank the day after the collision.

In Merseyside Maritime Museum’s Titanic, Lusitania and the Forgotten Empress gallery there are many Titanic-linked exhibits including the 20 ft long original builder’s model used to publicise the ship.

Both CQD and SOS were used by wireless operator Jack Phillips as the ship went down but it is a popular myth that this was the first time SOS was used. Phillips, who did not survive, and junior operator Harold Bride, who did, were employed by the Marconi International Marine Communication Company.

A new Maritime Tale by Stephen Guy appears every Saturday in the Liverpool Echo. A paperback – Mersey Maritime Tales (£3.99) – is available from the museum, newsagents, bookshops or from the Mersey Shop website (£1.50 p&p UK).

Staff Captain james Clarke Anderson. Image courtesy Liverpool Daily Post and Echo.

Some years ago I took my father to the Old Head of Kinsale in Ireland where we stayed in a remote hotel with superb views over the Irish Sea. Underneath the choppy, sunlit waters lay the twisted wreck of the Lusitania. Dad felt particularly sad because one of his earliest memories was seeing a mob attack a German baker’s shop in Liverpool after the sinking.

The destruction of the Cunard luxury liner by a German U-boat submarine sent shock waves around the world.

The disaster was one of the most horrific incidents at sea during the First World War (1914 – 18) and came as the ship was heading for Liverpool, a port where she was much-loved.

She was sent to the bottom on a bright sunny day. Early that year the German government declared that all Allied ships would be in danger of attack in British waters. Lusitania sailed from New York on 1 May 1915 with 1,962 people of board.

At 2.10 pm on 7 May the liner was struck by a torpedo fired by U-20. It blew a massive hole in Lusitania’s side and she sank in less than 20 minutes with the loss of 1,201 lives.

The sinking of this unarmed passenger ship caused international outrage and there were riots in Liverpool, London and other cities around the world.

The German government claimed that Lusitania was carrying military supplies and there is some evidence to support this. However, British and American inquiries later declared the sinking to be unlawful.

This event devastated the tightly-knit dockland communities in north Liverpool where most of Lusitania’s crew lived. A total of 404 crew members died, including many Liverpool Irish seamen.

A photo on display (pictured) shows Staff Captain James Clarke Anderson, the most senior Lusitania officer to die in the sinking. His body was returned to Liverpool and buried in Longmoor Lane Cemetery, Fazakerley.

The fascinating exhibition Titanic, Lusitania and the Forgotten Empress at Merseyside Maritime Museum looks at the tragedy. There are a number of items from the ship with stories behind them

There is a lifebuoy from the Lusitania – a rare survivor of the sinking.

Captain William Turner, from Crosby, survived after struggling for three hours in the sea. The British government tried to blame him for loss of his ship but he was cleared of any wrong-doing by the official inquiry. A picture on display shows him on deck.

The Maritime Archives and Library also hold a lot of relevant material about the Lusitania. You can read more online with information sheet number 42: RMS Lusitania.

A new Maritime Tale by Stephen Guy appears every Saturday in the Liverpool Echo. A paperback – Mersey Maritime Tales (£3.99) – is available from the museum, newsagents, bookshops or from the Mersey Shop website (£1.50 p&p UK).