Cobh, Irish Free State

Cobh, Irish Free State

By Jim Potter

Before Gladys Parks could get familiar with the sounds and rhythm of her ship, the RMS Scythia, and prior to traveling in the rougher seas of the Atlantic Ocean, the liner had one port call, Cobh (pronounced “cove”), located in the Irish Free State. Although I don’t know Saturday’s departure time from Liverpool or the arrival time at Cobh the next day, the trip could have taken between 15-18 hours. Scythia would have arrived in Cork Harbor on Sunday, June 6, 1926, possibly while many of the passengers were still asleep in their berths. Once immigration officials at Cobh became available, the ship would welcome passengers, most of them emigrating to the United States.

Both Liverpool and Cobh (formerly named Queenstown) had a long history of being the departure port for millions of emigrants moving to North America. Gladys was following a familiar human wave, only in 1926 the numbers were greatly reduced due to the anti-immigration laws passed in the United States in 1921 (Emergency Quota Act) and 1924 (National Origins Acts). Even though the Cunard Line began building smaller size ships in 1920, called intermediates, had they better predicted the downturn in demand for transatlantic travel, they might have reduced the number of berths in Third Class, where most immigrants were lodged for the crossing.

By the time Gladys woke up in Cork Harbor on June 6th, she would have already had an opportunity to meet some of the staff, planning with a steward to reserve a deck chair and a steamer rug to put over her shoulders. Most likely, as an Englishwoman, she enjoyed the ship’s scheduled afternoon tea time, especially if she was on the portside where passengers could avoid the cold northern winds yet bathe in the sunlight. As did others, Gladys probably strolled the promenade, enjoyed the ocean air, and experienced the view. I have a feeling the young woman from Kingston upon Hull who had experience picking up sailors at the city’s docks for dates, would have easily engaged passengers in conversation at the verandah cafe that overlooked the stern of the vessel, giving the passengers an uninterrupted and sheltered view of the sea.¹

Whether in her shared passenger cabin or with the food and beverage service in the dining room, I can imagine Gladys’ surprise at being a constant recipient of outstanding steward service. How many times did she remind herself, “I’m not in Hull anymore.” Since she wasn’t on a US ship, there were no prohibitory laws to enforce during the transatlantic voyage. Passengers could drink freely but not for free. There’s no telling how quickly Gladys located a dining saloon, lounge, or bar, and ordered an alcoholic beverage. Next, drink in hand, next, she would have been in search of popular dance music.

With seven decks, the RMS Scythia was built to accommodate 350 people in Saloon Class (First Class), 350 in Second Class, and 1,500 in Third Class. Fortunately, the Cunard Steam Ship Company had earnings on mail contracts, marketable cargo space, and Mediterranean cruises during the winter months, to help counterbalance the decrease in passenger travel. In the mid-1920s, instead of immigrants, shipping companies continued to rely on the wealthy to pay dearly for First Class travel and began to aggressively market transatlantic voyages and leisure cruises to the growing middle class. Comfortable “Cabin Class” and “Tourist Third Class” tickets replaced the once spartan Steerage and Third Class lodging.

On Gladys’ transatlantic trip, there were more crew members (officers and staff) working on the ship than paid travelers. When Scythia departed the Liverpool docks, it held 397 crew members to meet the constant and considerable needs of the passengers. Beginning with Captain William Prothero, 53, the master of the ship, down to William Carter, 27, an assistant boot polisher, the crew members all had important duties so the ship could operate professionally with regards to safety, efficiency, and elegance.

At Liverpool, Gladys was one of 155 passengers welcomed aboard. The ship’s manifest listed 53 US citizens returning to their country, 47 immigrating to the United States, 46 as temporary visitors, and nine in transit to another country or ship. The average age of the immigrants was 30.3 years old; 26 were female and 21 were male; 26 were single, 18 married, and three widowed. Thirty-two (66%) of the immigrants were born in England, eleven (23%) in Ireland, and one (2%) from each of the following five countries: Northern Ireland, Germany, Sweden, Norway, and Lithuania.

At Cobh, 166 passengers were added to the manifest. Twenty-eight were returning to the United States, 126 immigrating to the United States, and twelve were visiting. The average age of the immigrants was 23.79 years old; 59 were female and 70 were male; 124 were single, three married, and two widowed. All 129 (100%) immigrants were born in Ireland.

Once RMS Scythia departed Cobh for New York City, there were 718 total people on board, including 397 crew members.

As Scythia entered Cork Harbor, often considered the second largest natural harbor in the world, British forts and naval bases remained active like they had for centuries. Despite Ireland gaining its independence from England in 1921, three “treaty ports”, including Cobh, remained under British control. The largest fort in Cork Harbor was strategically located on Spike Island.

When passengers on Scythia first viewed the town of Cobh, their eyes would gravitate to the prominent landmark of St. Colman’s Cathedral, the tallest church in the country. The grey-stone, Gothic Revival, Roman Catholic church, a centerpiece of the community, included a three hundred foot single spire that reached toward Heaven. Due to increases in cost, revisions of plans, and a world war, the building took fifty-one years to complete, being consecrated in 1919.

Of the four priests on board Scythia, the three who departed from Liverpool listed the International Eucharistic Congress in Chicago as their destination. Hundreds of thousands of people–including clergy, bishops, and laypeople from around the world–were planning to attend the congress that intended to focus on Holy Communion. To many, the idea that the United States, a Protestant majority country, would host the international Catholic gathering for the first time felt like a monumental shift towards acceptance of the religion. It was a watershed moment for American Catholicism.

There’s no telling how many Scythia passengers discussed the tragic maritime history involving Cobh Harbor. Gladys Parks was only four years old when, in 1912, the RMS Titanic began its last leg of her maiden voyage from Queenstown, Ireland, to New York City. Titanic sank on April 15, after striking an iceberg the previous night. Approximately fifteen hundred people died. Three years later, in 1915, when Gladys was seven, another nautical disaster occurred. RMS Lusitania was sunk by a German U-boat off the coast of Ireland on its way to Liverpool. Both survivors and the dead were brought to Cobh. Approximately 1,197 people perished, with around 180 buried in Queenstown’s Old Church Cemetery.

If Scythia passengers mentioned any of their safety concerns about transatlantic travel to crew members, they would have been reassured that, unlike in the days of the Titanic, ocean liners carried enough lifeboats for everyone on the ship, wireless radio was monitored twenty-four hours a day in case of distress signals, and an international ice patrol monitored icebergs to help prevent collisions with ships.

We’ll never know, but I’ve wondered how often Gladys thought of her family in Hull and her husband, Robert, in New York City.

1 Daily Commercial News (Sydney, New South Wales, Australia), October 31, 1921, 3.

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