Charles Edwin Smith was part of the victualling crew on Titanic.
Background[]
Charles Edwin Smith was given life by George Smith and Mary Ann Grantham. Mary’s life had begun in Hornsey in Yorkshire with her husband originating from Southampton, close to where they had their son as one of six. They saw their son for the first time in 1872 in Itchen, where the family lived. George was a woodworker. Mary Ann was 9 years younger than her husband when they had joined forces in 1862. In 1863, she gave George a daughter named Amelia Jane. Alice Emmeline became her sister in 1865. From 1866 onwards, George and Mary raised George Henry. A third daughter saw the light in 1871: Ellen Mary. Charles had only one younger sibling. He was named Frederick William in 1879.
In 1881, the family had stuck to Itchen as their hometown.
It appears that Charles had seeked out his own luck by 1891. On the 30th of April, 1896, Martha Hannah Gibbens, also a Sotonian through and through, became the woman that he promised to grow old with.
Their marriage led to awakening of 5 children, but they had one taken from life too soon. The name of this child is missing, but they had 2 healthy boys and girls each: Doris Elsie May in 1899, with George Frederick being next in 1901, followed by Tom in 1903 and Sybil Violet Gibbens welcomed in 1909.
Hollydene was their place of settling in 1901. They had stayed there by 1911 and Charles had picked up a career as seafarer and victualler.
Titanic[]
On the 4th of April, 1912, while in Southampton, Charles offered his services for the victualling crew of Titanic’s first ever passage. As he had sailed with the Olympic recently as well, Titanic would seem a familiar sight for him. He became a Second Class Bedroom Steward.
After departure, shortly past noon on April 10, Titanic displaced a lot of water near the harbor, on her way to France.
The first four days of the voyage passed without incident, but on 14 April 1912, Titanic’s found herself in a pickle. Although the crew was aware of ice in the vicinity, they did not reduce the ship's speed and continued to steam forward, upping her pace even to 22,5 knots. They depended upon the lookouts in the crow's nest and the watch on the bridge to pick up the ice in time to avoid hitting it. This is precisely what turned out to be a mistake when, at 11:39 A.M, the lookouts shook up when they made out a shape in the close distance, which rapidly grew in size and detail before their eyes. The Titanic had to move herself out of the way and thus a frontal collision was prevented. With the helm hard over and the engine power ceased, the Titanic made her move. She was however too slow in response and now abraded by the iceberg on starboard side. An outlier of the berg underwater had made dents and crevices and could now find its way in.
Captain Smith had an extra sense for this trouble and the rumbling bow scraping along the iceberg had gotten him out of his sleep and he jumped into action. Learning of the collision, he set up a assesmen through inspecting the lowest parts that had been damaged, together with designer Thomas Andrews. Andrews admitted, that under their examination there was no uncertainty about the fact that Titanic could not be upheld. Captain Smith had to release the lifeboats from the fitting positions and he did so, his crew being requested to come on deck immediately, not long after midnight.
With all but 2 lifeboats launched, the final moments of the ship were at hand. Her pace of foundering accelerated enormously at 2:05 A.M, when the waters had taken over the wheelhouse.
We could only wonder what happened to Charles Edwin Smith, as no evidence exists on his actions, thoughts and whereabouts. Not an unlogical thought is he did his utmost for his passengers. There were stewards who were awarded a position in a lifeboat, as they were crew and therefore were chosen as suitable to row, even though some weren’t. Charles wasn’t one of them. He could have been one of the souls that climbed on the aft deck of the dry stern, which rose ever further out of the water. At a high angle, the ship tore itself apart in two sections, which left the sight of those in the boats one after the other.
Many of those that died that night took their stories into their early sea grave, but luckily not Charles. The Montmagny had come across his body and numbered it #329. He was brought on land and transported to have his final rest at Fairview Lawn Cemetery, Halifax, Nova Scotia.