Walter Henry Nichols
Walter Henry Nichols was a steward aboard Titanic.
Biography[]
Walter Henry Nichols was a native of Brompton, Middlesex, England, where he was was born on May 10, 1876. His father was George Nichols, originally from London. He was a coachman. His mother, Ruth Alice 'Ann' Blundell was from Swansea. The couple married in Derbyshire in 1863 and, after a brief spell in Hampshire, moved to London in 1868. Walter Henry Nichols had 7 siblings, almost all of them were older. There were two brothers and 4 sisters.
The latest edition to the family was Ruth Louise, who was born in 1879.
In 1881 he lost his father George who had become only 40 years old. The family were living in Battersea at the time and the widowed Ruth had to sustain a living by practically moving into a laundry where she worked.
Walter left school at the age of 14 and was lodging with Charles Harpman in Lambeth, London and working as a builder’s clerk. Not long after this he went to sea as a steward.
Nichols married Florence Helen Sheath in Christ Church, Richmond on September 2, 1901. Four children were born from this marriage: Walter, Dorothy, Basil and Audrey. By 1911 the family were living at 40 Kent Road in Portswood and Walter was working on the immigration ship Saint Paul. He wasn’t paid, but at least he had accomodation, practically living on the ship.
Titanic[]
The coal strike in early 1912 meant he was stranded in Southampton, and it prompted him to sign on to Titanic as an Assistant Second Class Saloon Steward, earning £3 15s a month. He was 35 years old at the time.
On the night of 14 April, Walter was awoken by the vibration of the ship when it struck the iceberg. A little later the engines stopped. Neither he or his fellow stewards were especially concerned and most stayed in bed. Curiosity drew Walter, still in his pyjamas, to go to see what had happened. This undoubtedly saved his life. He was ordered to report to the Boat Deck. Having arrived there, he saw unconcerned passengers in the Gymnasium on exercise bicycles and working out on the punching bag.
When he arrived on the starboard side of the deck there were lifeboats already in the water and the forward part of the ship seemed low and tilted slightly forward. He saw the officer in charge with a revolver in his hand, but he was calm and speaking quietly so Walter was still not overly concerned. This was probably either First Officer William McMaster Murdoch, Third Officer Herbert Pitman or Sixth Officer Moody, the officers in charge of the lifeboats on this side of the ship. Moody aided on both sides but he was not known for using his revolver. There’s also a possibility that it was Main Officer Henry Tingle Wilde who appeared on both sides as well.
Walter was assigned to lifeboat 15. As he waited for it to be lowered he heard the band playing. Lifeboat 15 was initially lowered from the Boat Deck to A-Deck. Here Walter recalled officers urging women to get into lifeboats but they were reluctant to leave the ship. Even at this late stage most didn’t believe the ship would sink. Walter estimated that there where about 50 people in his lifeboat, although other accounts give conflicting numbers. There were plenty of men and Third Class passengers.
In Walter’s account, later published in the Brooklyn Daily Eagle newspaper, he made no mention of the near disaster when lifeboat fifteen was almost lowered on top of lifeboat 13, which had become entangled with the ropes when it was in the water.
It was only as they were rowing away that the full scale of the disaster became apparent. Walter could see that the prow of the ship was so low in the water that the propeller was above the waterline. He could hear the band still playing. After more than 20 minutes of rowing around trying to keep warm, he noticed the bow disappearing further and further. This was when he finally realised it wasn’t just a little break from the monotony of work and the ship really was going down.
He recalled the ship sinking slowly and steadily until there was a small explosion. This he believed to be one of the boilers. After this the lights began to go out. Then there was another, larger, explosion and a mass of black smoke and the ship rose out of the water, tilting on end with the forward section completely under water. This was when he saw people falling, or maybe jumping, into the sea. Then the ship seemed to break and drop down.
Now the air was filled with the sound of people screaming and crying for help. The cries stayed with Walter for the rest of his life but he knew there was nothing he or the others on the lifeboat could have done. There were so many in the water their little boat would have been swamped and all aboard lost if they’d gone to help. The cries went on for half an hour or more, slowly getting fainter as people succumbed to the icy sea.
Lifeboat 15 was the tenth or eleventh boat to reach Carpathia. By this time it was dawn and, for the first time Walter saw the icebergs all around them. He said he had never seen so many icebergs in all his years at sea and there were bodies and pieces of wreckage floating amongst them.
After the disaster[]
Nichols was able to sell his story for $69 to The Brooklyn Daily Eagle newspaper. An absolute fortune as he said so himself.
Later life[]
Walter returned to England and carried on working at sea. He served on the troopship SS Royal Edward and the hospital ship HMS Panama during World War I.
Later he returned to the merchant service before retiring from the sea to become a postmaster in the village of West Moors, Dorset. During World War II he worked in several military establishments in Weymouth.
In the 1950s he was reuinted with fellow Titanic survivors when he helped Walter Lord with his research for the upcoming film ‘A Night To Remember’. Walter and Florence continued to live in West Moors for the rest of their lives. He became widowed when he lost Florence on December 11, 1955 and Walter survived her by 4 years. He passed away on January 23, 1960, aged 83. He was laid to rest at the West Moors Cemetery in Dorset.
Sources[]
Special thanks and credits to Marie Keates for allowing me to use a large part of this information on her blog:
https://iwalkalone.co.uk/the-final-titanic-tales-from-portswood-part-one/ The final Titanic tales from Portswood part one – I Walk Alone