The Band That Played On (15 page)

The Hall in the Grand Hotel, Eastbourne, where the orchestra would have played.

The Hall at the Grand was reputed to have extraordinary acoustics and for this reason would later become a key venue for live radio broadcasts of orchestral music. A guest named George Bagshaw, who spent time at the hotel while Woodward was in Eastbourne, said it truly was a “grand” hotel in that era. “In the evening the hotel porters were dressed in livery with white wigs, knee breeches and silk stockings. The Palm Court had a famous quartet orchestra conducted by a German [
sic
] Von Leer who played the violin and other players on piano, double bass and cello.”

If Woodward did play at the Grand, it’s not certain whether he fitted it in with his work with the Duke’s orchestra or whether he did a short stint there in 1910 when the orchestra was winding down. The 8th Duke of Devonshire died at the Hotel Metropole in Cannes in March 1908 and was immediately succeeded by his nephew, Victor Cavendish, who became the 9th Duke. The new Duke continued the sponsorship of the orchestra but by 1910 had second thoughts because the box office revenue fell below expectations. The total wage bill between January 1908 and January 1910 was £17,000. He decided that the town itself would need to at least offer partial finance if the orchestra was to continue, and so it was that it played its final symphony concert on October 27 and disbanded four days later.

It could have been during November that Woodward filled in at the Grand before setting sail on the Elder-Dempster-owned RMS
Port Royal
from Bristol to Kingston on December 10, 1910, to work at the Constant Spring Hotel. The ship didn’t arrive until early on Christmas morning because it was dogged by storms all the way. There was a strong southerly wind as soon as it left port and then for the next four days it had to contend with a westerly gale before being lashed by a variety of bad weather for the rest of the crossing.

He told friends in Eastbourne that the Caribbean sojourn had greatly improved his health. The main Jamaican daily newspaper, the
Daily Gleaner
, would say that he made many friends during the visit and had time to give lessons at the hotel. The orchestra, the paper added, was “the best of its kind that has ever visited Jamaica.” The
Brighton Advertiser
wrote of his Jamaica trip that he had “won much appreciation as a soloist. Like other artists who visit the island, he experienced great hospitality and kindness his sunny disposition rendering him a favourite wherever he went.”

His connection with C. W. & F. N. Black and his newly awakened appetite for travel attracted him to the life of a ship’s musician. Back in Southampton on May 1, 1911, he and John Law Hume signed on for the maiden voyage of the
Titanic
’s sister ship the
Olympic
, which was to leave Southampton on June 14 bound for New York. It was the largest and most luxurious ship ever to sail and its maiden voyage completely sold out.

The best of White Star’s crew were selected for the trip. As with the
Titanic’s
maiden voyage ten months later, the captain was the white-bearded Edward Smith, a favorite with wealthy customers, and White Star chairman J. Bruce Ismay and Harland & Wolff designer Thomas Andrew were VIP passengers. The eight musicians were mostly from the bands of the
Majestic
and the
Arabic
, the oldest of them only thirty years old. Violet Jessop, a first-class steward on both the
Olympic
and the
Titanic
, later remembered the excitement among the crew: “The great day came when the
Olympic
finally became a fact, the ‘largest and finest’ to fly the British flag. A crew, handpicked from every ship in the line, was assembled for muster on sailing day, feeling proud of the honour of being chosen but trying to hide it under the nonchalance that was only too obvious.”

The ship sailed first to Cherbourg in France, then to Queenstown in Ireland, before heading across the Atlantic to New York. A writer for the
New York Times
was on board and could hardly conceal his excitement at the opulence, size, and range of activities available. He heard the band play. “The dining room lounge, an experiment on the part of the builders, the great success of which was hardly anticipated, proved to be the most popular resting place on the ship. Here a very good orchestra plays before and after meals, and tables and chairs were always at a premium for the demitasse.”

The unnamed writer also speculated on the safety of the ship in an unusually prescient way. He suggested that part of the adventure of sailing was the outside chance that something could go wrong.

To begin with, there is always to the imaginative person the joy of speculation, the mystery of untried things, perhaps the lingering uncertainty as to actual accomplishment. You know, for instance, that the ship-building and navigation are scientifically accomplished, that the least possible element of chance enters in, that the departure and arrival of the ocean steamers is almost as definitely fixed, under normal conditions, as the rising or the setting of the sun. And yet in the case of an untried vessel there is always that feeling of an added element of chance. What if this man or that has erred in his estimate, what if the unexpected should happen for just once, what if a dozen different ifs should develop to upset the calculations and bring you face to face with the hitherto unencountered?

The
Olympic
’s arrival in America on June 21 was hotly anticipated and Violet Jessop described it as a mass welcome that seemed to involve the whole city. Large and small boats were snapping at its heels as soon as it entered the Hudson and the edge of the river was thronged with cheering crowds. “Not a window, however small, but had a little flag or handkerchief waving from it, as we slowly passed on to the accompaniment of shrill tooting of greetings from everything afloat that had a whistle to blow.”

Woodward had a week to spend in New York because the
Olympic
wasn’t due to depart until June 28. He threw himself into discovering the best music he could find and told friends back in England that he learned a lot from his exposure to music in America. “He thoroughly enjoyed the opportunities he had of visiting New York where he made many friends,” reported the
Brighton Advertiser
. “He had a very high opinion of the Americans as lovers of music.”

He made three more trips to America on the
Olympic
, with a band reduced to five from the eight on the maiden voyage. Then, on September 20, 1911, just as he was about to leave on his fifth
Olympic
crossing, the unexpected happened. Shortly before 1:00 p.m., as the ship headed down the dredged channel in the Solent, the Royal Navy cruiser HMS
Hawke
appeared on its starboard side making toward the same narrow exit between shoals marked on the navigational maps. According to the “Rules of the Road” the
Olympic
should have slowed down and given way, but it didn’t. The
Hawke
vainly tried to turn at the last moment but its helm jammed and the seven-ton warship ploughed straight into the side of the Cunard steamer.

Telgram from Ismay to the Admiralty regarding the
Olympic
/
Hawke
incident.

Notification from Portsmouth’s Commander-in-chief.

Woodward was playing checkers in a cabin with members of the band during a break from a lunchtime performance when the collision took place, the main point of contact with the bow of the
Hawke
being only feet away. The impact on the big ship was felt so slightly by the players, however, that they carried on with their game. This was to be an eerie portent of the initial response to the
Titanic
’s encounter with an iceberg. It was only on closer inspection that it was realized that the
Olympic
had been badly damaged: Three blades of the starboard propeller ended up looking as though they’d been chewed by rats, a large triangular hole about twelve feet in length had been torn in the side just above the waterline, cabin bulkheads and fittings had been broken, and the dynamo room had been flooded. It wasn’t until divers looked under the ship that they realized there was another pear-shaped hole in the plating below the waterline.

Damage to the side of the
Olympic.

Damaged propeller of
Olympic.

This was to say nothing of the damage caused to the
Hawke
, whose bow was so twisted and bent that it looked like a boxer with a crumpled nose. It was clear within a short time that the
Olympic
would not be going to New York. It would, first of all, have to remain anchored in the Solent, and then it would return to Southampton before heading back to Harland & Wolff ’s dockyards in Belfast for emergency repairs. It was not only a disappointment for almost twenty-five hundred passengers, but also a humiliation for the White Star Line. Its greatest ship, so far, was out of action after only three months of active service. There was the obvious loss of revenue and prestige along with the additional prospect of having to pay damages to the Royal Navy if found guilty of negligence.

HMS
Hawke
’s broken bow after her collision with the
Olympic.