Call Me Ismay (12 page)

“I did, sir.”

“You examined this ship from time to time, I assume, on the voyage from Liverpool to the place of the accident?”

Ismay paused, his stomach churning, then found himself almost compulsively providing an almost
non sequitur
response. “I was never outside the first class passenger accommodations on board the ship, sir. I never went into any part of the ship that any other first class passenger had not a perfect right to go to. I had not made any inspection of the ship at all.”

Senator Smith took a moment to apparently jot down some of what Ismay had just said. “From that, do you wish to be understood as saying that you were not officially on board the ship for the purpose of inspecting?”

“N-No, sir, I do not,” Ismay flinched, his dry hands incessantly itching. “I
was
there to inspect the ship, and see if there were any defects in her.”

“Did Mr. Andrews go about the ship?”

“He was about the ship all the time, I believe.”

“Inspecting and examining her?”

“I think so....” Ismay hesitated as Senator Smith sat motionless, apparently expecting more of an answer. “N-Naturally, in a ship of that size, there were a great many
minor
defects on board the ship, which he was rectifying, he... he was there to right any small detail which was wrong.”

Smith leaned forward. “Were you in conference with Captain Edward James Smith during this journey from Southampton?”

Ismay felt his chin quiver as he realized that his proximity to Captain Smith was once again going to be the subject of interrogation. He came across as slightly too eager to clarify. “I was never in the captain's room the whole voyage over, sir, and the captain was never in my room. I never had any conversation with the captain except casual conversation on the deck.”

“No conversation with the captain,” Smith repeated, and he held eye contact with Ismay before responding with another question. “Were you on the
bridge
at any time?”

“I was never on the bridge until after the accident.”

“How long after the accident?”

Ismay had been berating himself in private for not being able to provide a more coherent timeline under questioning. However, this was one of a few events from that night he could recall all too clearly. He delivered his answer with careful understatement, trying not to let emotion overtake him. “I should think it might have been ten minutes.”

Smith paused, seeming to compose himself for a moment. His tone then took on a quiet solemnity. “Had you known Captain Smith for some time?”

“Yes, I had known him a great many years.” Ismay coughed, trying to slow the momentum of the sadness welling up within him.

“On what ships of your line had he been captain?”

“I think he had been commander of a great many of them,” Ismay answered softly. “The first time I remember Captain Smith being commander of one of our ships was when he was in command of one of our cargo boats called the
Cufic
, a great many years ago.” Images of great ocean liners danced through his head, each of them symbols of happier times and indicators of just how much had been entrusted to E,J., and for how long. Ismay shook his head sadly. “I cannot remember them all, sir. We have a record, in the office, of every ship he has commanded.”

Smith narrowed his eyes, and Ismay could not decipher if it was out of precision in his next choice of words, or suspicion of what his answer would be.

“Do you yourself know anything about the construction of vessels- I mean, technically?”

“No, I could not say I do.”

The Senator seemed to size up Ismay for a long moment before continuing. “In ordering this vessel, did you give Harland and Wolff any special instructions with reference to her safety?”

“We were very anxious indeed to have a ship which would float with her two largest watertight compartments full of water. What we wanted to guard against was any steamer running into the ship and hitting her on a bulkhead, because if the ship ran into her broadside on and happened to hit her right on a bulkhead, that would open up two big compartments, and we were anxious to guard against the possibility of that happening. So, the
Titanic
was constructed in such a way that she would float with the two largest compartments full of water.”

“You remember, I think, the statement of the wheelman, that the last thing he did before striking the iceberg was to turn his wheel as to avoid contact directly with the bow?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Do you recall that?”

“I... I think he said he was told 'Hard aport,' and then 'Hard astarboard,' if I remember rightly.”

“Suppose that had not been done, Mr. Ismay, and the ship had met this iceberg bows on- what would have been the effect, in your judgment?”

Ismay felt a panel of senatorial eyes boring into him, as he momentarily struggled for a answer. Finally, he continued. “It is really impossible to say, he smiled nervously. “It- it is only a matter of opinion. I
think
that the ship would have crushed her bows in, and might not have sunk.”

“She might not have sunk?”

“She might not have sunk.” A slight groan of sadness was heard from the spectators in the Conference Room, but a nervous Ismay pressed on. “I think it would have taken a very brave man to have kept his ship going straight on an iceberg.
Very
brave. I think he should have endeavored to avoid it.”

“A very brave man, indeed,” Smith replied. The senator seemed to momentarily drift into an odd sort of reverie, thoughtfully stroking his chin, and when he spoke, it seemed as if he was quoting a passage of literature.
“'
The stricken hull, the doomed, the beautiful, the Titanic...'”

He paused as Ismay's eyes darted about nervously in wonder. Smith then quickly resumed his role as interrogator. “What I am getting at is this, Mr. Ismay: whether in the construction of this ship, which was intended for use in the North Atlantic, she was built with special reference to her resistance at the bow?”

“No, sir. I think the only ships in which they do that are ships trading to the St. Lawrence,” Ismay replied, referring to the large river that connects the Great Lakes to the Atlantic Ocean. “I understand that on the forward end, those ships are very often fitted with double plates.”

Smith finished jotting down the information, then sighed. “Mr. Ismay, there has been considerable confusion regarding the cost of the insurance for the
Titanic.
I will take the liberty of asking you about it, for purposes of this inquiry. Did you have anything to do with the insurance?” Smith then proceeded to divide his attention once again between interrogating Ismay, and taking copious notes.

“No, very little. That is done in New York, that is dealt with and handled in New York.”

There was a moment of silence as Smith carefully examined some of the papers that lay before him. The Senator then addressed Ismay directly. “There is a matter of great importance that must be addressed, Mr. Ismay, regarding an unusual bit of intelligence brought to our attention by some of those on board the
Virginian,
which was one of many ships in contact with the
Titanic
by means of wireless radio communication
.
I will ask you whether you know of any attempt being made to reinsure any part of the vessel on Monday, the 15th of April?”

Anger flickered in Ismay's eyes and he responded in a controlled fury. “Absolutely none, sir, and I cannot imagine anybody connected with the International Mercantile Marine Company endeavoring to do such a dishonorable thing!” Ismay brought his clenched hands down on the table before him in frustration, and the Conference Hall's spectators responded with indignation at his outburst.

Smith had to pound his gavel for a moment to restore order.  Struggling to bring the proceedings back under his control, the Senator called out, “I do not want you to understand me to assert that it was attempted, Mr. Ismay...”

“I know, sir, but it is such a horrible accusation to have been made!” Lady spectators in fashionable dresses chattered, reporters leaned forward as they intensified the rate at which they were taking down every word, and Senator Smith once again brought down his gavel with an authoritative
bang
.

“Mr. Ismay...” Smith called through the din in the Conference Room, “Mr. Ismay. Yesterday we received what we considered to be at best nebulous intelligence that suggested the
Virginian
received a blurred wireless transmission from the
Titanic
about fifteen to twenty minutes prior to the ship's foundering on the morning of the 15th
,”
Smith explained, carefully. “Unfortunately the wireless operator failed to take this alleged communication down. But some members of the crew suggested- through what we strongly believe to be rumor and speculation only- that perhaps some reference had been made to contacting the ship's insurers. Through the course of this inquiry, however, we have determined it to be unlikely. We are only, as a matter of course, entering this report into the content of all testimony to be considered. I should hope that we are both clear in that regard.” Smith gazed at a smoldering Ismay intently. “Notwithstanding the implausible nature of this report,” the Senator continued, “if we are to rule out the possibility of its occurrence, we must ask you, as the highest-ranking representative of the White Star Line to survive the disaster, to confirm its incompatibility with your company's values. Therefore, Mr. Ismay, you would regard it as a very dishonorable thing to do?”

“It would have been taking advantage of private knowledge which was in my possession, yes, sir.” Ismay settled back in his chair slightly, tempering his outrage while also deciding to once more voice his displeasure. “
Yes, sir
- I should so regard it.”

“Was the knowledge of the sinking of the
Titanic
that was in your possession communicated by you to your company in Liverpool, or to your offices in New York?”

Ismay's heart was still racing from the previous exchange, but he cleared his throat and forced himself to focus on the latest question. “I sent a message on Monday morning, very shortly after I boarded the
Carpathia
. The captain came down to me and said, 'Don't you think, sir, you had better send a message to New York, telling them about this accident?' I said, 'Yes.' I wrote it out on a slip of paper, and I turned to him and said, 'Captain, do you think that is all I can tell them?' He said, 'Yes.' Then he took it away from the room.” Still stinging from the suggestion that the White Star Line had tried to reinsure the
Titanic
before making a formal announcement that the ship had sunk, Ismay reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a collection of slightly crumpled papers. “I have a copy here, sir, of every Marconi message which I sent away from the
Carpathia
. I had no communication with any other ship, and there is a record of every message which I received. This is the message I sent, which was received by Mr. Phillip Franklin- who is seated next to me right here- on the 17th of April, 1912. Mr. Franklin is the vice president of the company that owned our ship.” Ismay held the stack of messages out, expecting one of the Senate's pages to collect them.

Smith shook his head slightly, sensing an opportunity for Ismay to speak for himself, albeit somewhat theatrically. “It will not take long, and I think I would like to have you read them, inasmuch as they came from you.”

Ismay's outstretched arm sagged slightly, as he sensed in desperation that the inquiry's attention was going to remain solely on him for the time being. “Yes, sir, I will do so,” he muttered. He placed the messages down on the table before him, as he pulled a pair of reading glasses from the front pocket of his coat with slightly unsteady hands. “This is a message I sent on April 15th.” Ismay coughed once before continuing in the choppy language of the Marconigram.

“'Deeply regret advise you Titanic sank at 2:20 A.M. this morning after collision iceberg, resulting serious loss life. Full particulars later. YAMSI.' 
This is a message sent by Mr. Franklin to me on April 17, 1912- '
So thankful you are saved, but grieving with you over terrible calamity. Shall sail Saturday to return with you. Florence.'
That was from my wife, and was forwarded to me by Mr. Franklin, who added, '
Accept my deepest sympathy horrible catastrophe. Will meet you aboard Carpathia after docking.'”