Lusitania – Novel PASTimes

Our guest today is Rosaleen Bonnard, a survivor of the tragic sinking of the Lusitania last May. She was traveling with her husband, Geoff, who was badly injured in the disaster. Tell us, Mrs. Bonnard, how is he doing?

He is so much better, thank you. Every day we walk, sometimes for as long as an hour. We’re frequently interrupted though. Since Geoff collaborated with our neighbor Peter Bloch, a reporter for the Sentinel, he’s well recognized and folks seem to think that having touched the war, he’s now an expert on the fighting in Europe and they’re always asking for his insights.

How did you meet your husband?

We were classmates at school and he invited me to attend an ice cream social at church. When I told my mother he’d asked, she quizzed me about him. I told her it was just ice cream, and she said, “Yes, and your father and I met at a church ice cream social.” After that night, I knew I would marry him.

The Cunard Line upgraded you from second class to first, is that right? [Rosaleen nods.] What was that like for you?

At first, I was thrilled. We had a beautiful stateroom with a window. Oh, excuse me, a porthole. That was special. And we had access to the Saloon Writing Room and Library and the Saloon Lounge and Music Room. They were exquisite. The two-tiered first-class dining room was a gorgeous setting to eat in, but I must admit, I would have been more at ease in second class. I didn’t feel comfortable with the first-class passengers. Even the food was unfamiliar. I had two new dresses for the journey, all so pretty, but I definitely didn’t have the elegant wardrobe possessed by the other first-class ladies.

Did you go shopping specifically for your voyage?

Oh, yes. My oldest and youngest sisters went shopping with me at Gimbels. I found two beautiful gowns. My grandmother gave me $10, and that made it possible to buy both fancy dresses. Plus a traveling outfit, a couple of new skirts and blouses, shoes, hats. Had I known we’d be in first class, goodness, I don’t know what I would have done. The ladies in first class wear a different gown to dinner every night. I couldn’t have afforded so many gowns. And now my lovely new wardrobe is on the bottom of the ocean.

Did you note much panic after the ship was torpedoed?

At first, everyone was stunned. After hearing all week about the likelihood of being attacked, when it actually happened, it was hard to believe. The sudden listing to starboard was alarming. It made walking difficult, especially on the stairs. When the power failed and people were trapped in the fancy grillwork elevator, they started screaming. We knew they’d drown. The scene at the lifeboats was so chaotic, watching some spill out their passengers or drop down on other lifeboats. It was scary. The ship sank in eighteen minutes, less time than it takes to bake a cake. So many people were still aboard when it sank. I suspect they thought they’d have more time, or that help would come from Ireland. We could see Ireland; it was that close.

What was it like in the lifeboat?

Numbing. We sat on hard wooden benches. The emergency rations were inadequate and too old. We dearly wanted more water, fresh water. We pulled in as many survivors from the sea as possible, and they were so cold. This happened in May, you know. Here daffodils and tulips are blooming; the days are warming. But in Milwaukee, of course, it’s cooler by the lake. There, we were out on the ocean. It was cold. Many people, if they hadn’t drowned, died from hypothermia. We saw them lose their grip on whatever they clung to and slip under the water. And all this time, I didn’t know what had happened to Geoff.

You didn’t make it to England, but Ireland. With an Irish mother, wasn’t that a treat?

Definitely. Mum’s family lived not far from Queenstown. I traveled by train to meet them. My grandparents, aunts and uncles, cousins. I couldn’t keep all the names straight. I thought about Mum the whole time, how she would love to be there. Two cousins took me to see the Cliffs of Moher. And then, Granda decided he and Nana would come visit after the war. I couldn’t wait to tell Mum.

As 1916 dawns, what are you looking forward to?

The war continues in what seems like a stalemate. We hope it doesn’t pull in the United States. Geoff and I both have brothers who would be affected. In our own home, we’re busy decorating a nursery.

Congratulations! And thank you for joining us today.

Terri Wangard grew up in Green Bay, Wisconsin, during the Lombardi Glory Years. Her first Girl Scout badge was the Writer. These days she is writing historical fiction, and won the 2013 historical First Impressions, as well as being a 2012 Genesis finalist. Holder of a bachelor’s degree in history and a master’s degree in library science, she lives in Wisconsin. For twenty years, she globe-trotted during annual vacations to four continents. Her day job is with Classic Boating Magazine, a family business since 1984.

Thank you for doing this. You have had some hard knocks in your life. As a British gentleman who lives during the Victorian years you had to conform to your father’s wishes. Now you are heading back to England, after taking some time away in America, on the lavish ocean liner, Lusitania. I am sure there are times on that ship where you tried to put the world behind you, but I am also sure you understand the inherit dangers considering the Germans warned all passengers that they are sailing at their own risk.

Let’s start out by going back in time.

Elise Cooper: Do you think your childhood impacted who you are today?

Robert Langford: You want me to talk about my childhood. You Americans. Always so familiar. Next, you’ll be wanting to call everyone by their first names. Doesn’t everyone’s childhood impact who they are? It was a normal childhood: growing up at Langford Hall, barley water with Nanny, being brought down to the drawing room once a day to see Mother and Father, that is when he was down from London, listening to the sound of my mother’s piano playing through the closed doors of the music room. Just like anyone’s childhood. Well, at least I had my brother Jamie…

EC: Why did you trail off, you appear deep in thought?

RL: You haven’t heard about the accident? I thought everyone knew. My father certainly made sure everyone knew. Jamie, my older brother, and I were sailing. My brother was fearless and brave and very clever. The perfect brother. The perfect son. Just perfect, really. They do say whom the gods love die young. Or perhaps it’s just easier to blame the gods than blame myself. I was the one who should have drowned that day. I was the one who went overboard. When Jamie went after me….

EC: Do you need a few minutes?

RL:Ahem. I beg your pardon. My glass appears to be empty, a lamentable oversight. I must remedy it.

EC: Let me rephrase the question, while growing up, did you feel like a stepchild regarding how your father interacted with you?

RL: Ah, that’s better. Mmmm, a stepchild? There was never any doubt I was a true-born Langford, but I was a second son. I was meant to be superfluous. I never begrudged Jamie his place and I was content to live in his shadow. Once he died, it was clear to everyone that I could never fill his shoes, so I selected the squeakiest shoes I could find.

EC: Is one of your hobbies playing the piano?

RL: Hobby—what a quaint way of putting it. I’ve been known to dabble. If you want to hear a true virtuoso, you should listen to Caroline…pardon me, Mrs. Hochstetter.

EC: Any other hobbies?

RL: Espionage, alcohol, and bedeviling my father.

EC: Espionage, is that why you want to be a spy novelist?

RL: Have I spoken of this? I’m not aware. Unless you’re referring to those little pieces I wrote for the New York TimesandThe Spectator. Those aren’t meant to be fiction. I do enjoy the odd novel, but I sometimes find their plots too fantastical to be true.

EC: Being an Englishman it appears you like to tease your American friends about their different habits and culture?

RL: When the Americans manage to acquire a culture, I will make a note to tease them. I do find this side of the pond quite refreshing. One is freed from the heavy gaze of one’s ancestors.

EC: You are heading back home to England on the RMS Lusitania. Why travel knowing it would be dangerous?

RL: Langfords laugh in the face of danger. Have I told you about my ancestor the Admiral?

EC: If you are from a military family don’t you have some guilt about not enlisting to fight in WWI?

RL:Isn’t the pen meant to be mightier than the sword? We all serve in our own way.

EC: For those of us who never went on a cruise ship can you please describe it?

RL: What is a… cruise ship? Are you referring to an ocean liner? It is a floating conveyance meant to mimic the sort of hotel frequented by debutantes, dowagers, and dandies who prefer to travel with all the comforts of home– assuming your home is in Mayfair or on Fifth Avenue. I understand there may also be a second class.

EC: You were seen breaking some rules of class by offering a lower-class traveler first class privileges?

RL:Only those who have no class are concerned by it. Americans, for instance.

EC: Rumor has it you are attracted to two women on the ship, an old flame, Caroline, and someone you just met, Tess?

RL:A gentleman never tells.

EC: Do you see similarities or differences in these two women?

RL:Would you have me compare orchids and daisies? Each has its own charms.

EC: Someone told me one of the Schuyler women said this, “Mrs. Hochstetter is an orchid, elegant and rare, while Tess is a common daisy.” Do you agree or disagree?

RL:I try not to listen to the Schulyer women. One usually exits discreetly when they enter a room.

EC: Do you think all these worlds collided on the ship?

RL: Ships are like Continental hotels; one can never tell whom one might meet. The difference is the only means of egress would leave one quite damp.

EC: If you had a crystal ball what would your life be like in five years?

RL: Does any man know what the future holds? My family only looks at the past, not the future.

EC: What are your hopes and dreams?

RL: To get off this blasted boat. Oh, bother. The Schulyer women approach. Is that whiskey in that decanter?

EC: Anything else you would like to say that has not been asked?

RL: Rule Britannia. God save the King. And put on that bloody life vest.

Thanks again for doing this. It is much appreciated. Please stay safe!

Beatriz Williams: A graduate of Stanford University with an MBA from Columbia, Beatriz Williams spent several years in New York and London hiding her early attempts at fiction, first on company laptops as a communications strategy consultant, and then as an at-home producer of small persons, before her career as a writer took off.

LAUREN WILLIG: is the author of several New York Times bestselling works of historical fiction, She is a RITA Award-winner for Best Regency Historical for The Mischief of the Mistletoe. A graduate of Yale University, she has a graduate degree in history from Harvard and a J.D. from Harvard Law School.

Karen White is the New York Times bestselling author of twenty previous books, including The Night the Lights Went Out, Flight Patterns, The Sound of Glass, A Long Time Gone, and The Time Between