Researching Robert

Gladys Gamble Parks
Sailed on the RMS Scythia

By Jim Potter

RMS Scythia’s passenger list revealed personal information about Gladys Mary Parks. She was eighteen, married, born in 1908 in Kingston-Hull, England. Gladys was five feet, three inches tall (two inches shorter than Robert), with brown hair, brown eyes, and a dark complexion. She had a burn scar on the back of her neck, was in possession of twenty-eight dollars (worth $516 in 2026), and her occupation was listed as housewife. Ship records show Sarah Jane Gamble, Gladys’ mother, as her contact person in the “old” country, living at 14 Warneford Terrace, Stanley Street, Spring Bank, Hull. Glady’s immediate contact person was her husband, W. Robert (Robert’s middle name was Walter). Gladys’ “final destination” was McPherson, Kansas.

New York, U.S., Arriving Passenger and Crew Lists (including Castle Garden and Ellis Island), 1820-1957 – Ancestry.com

Gladys stated that she intended to become a citizen and live permanently in the United States. Since she had married a US citizen in 1926, the naturalization law allowed her to gain citizenship after only one year’s residency, not five, if she filed a formal petition, and took an oath of allegiance.

Gladys was one of twenty-six single or married adult female passengers who embarked from Liverpool, traveling second-class, not accompanied by a husband. During the ten-day journey, it’s almost certain that Gladys would have had numerous conversations with several second-class passengers on deck, in the dining room, and while sharing a berth.

Dorothy Sinclair, 29, born in Belfast, Ireland, had been a schoolteacher working in Egremont, England. If she and Gladys conversed, they would have soon discovered some commonalities. Both were immigrating to the United States without a prior visit. They would have also discussed weddings. Gladys was a newlywed of two months; Dorothy was engaged to marry an Englishman in three weeks in Salt Lake City, Utah.

Eight years after the end of the World War, it was still a topic difficult for people to avoid due to the widespread injury and death of loved ones. When Gladys was asked about her parents, she would recall her father’s death in the trenches of Belgium. Dorothy could have mentioned her fiancé’s military service in the Royal Field Artillery, but she might not have known about him deserting two different times before being welcomed back to duty. Gladys might have told Dorothy of her American husband’s service in the US Navy and how they had met after the war.

Gladys wouldn’t have had contact with passengers traveling in first- or third-class including William Sidebotham, 50, a widower, who was traveling first-class with his mother, Catherine, 80, and his son William Jr., 13, a student. Born in Liverpool, England, William had immigrated to the United States in 1899 but had not become a naturalized citizen. Scythia‘s manifest shows William, an exporter by profession, as a returning resident of Cincinnati, Ohio.

After settling in the United States, Gladys, like William Sidebotham, would decide if she had a desire to become a citizen through the naturalization process. Meanwhile, Gladys was in limbo, stateless. Upon marrying Robert Parks, a US citizen, she was no longer recognized as a British citizen, and when she entered the US, the government did not grant her automatic citizenship. Both countries considered Gladys an alien.

There were only three single adult female immigrants who embarked from Liverpool as third-class passengers. The two born in England were Mary Ann McIntyre, 22, and Mona Crawford, 23. Mary Ann had worked as a house maid, and was headed to Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, to stay with her aunt. Mona’s occupation was listed on the ship’s manifest as café manager. She was enroute to Asheville, North Carolina, to be welcomed by her sister.

Passengers on RMS Scythia were in good hands with Captain William Prothero, a Welshman, at the helm. He was known for being calm during a storm both during and after his British naval service in the World War.

A long-time commander of Cunard ships, Prothero and other Maritime Marine officers were recognized for their service by King George V for carrying out the trade of the country during the war. Prothero was a seasoned veteran who knew what it was like to lose a ship under his command. In 1918, RMS Carpathia, carrying cargo and passengers, was torpedoed three times and sunk by a German U-Boat when the Cunard steamer was west of Ireland. Due to an orderly evacuation, the loss of life was limited to five crew members. The men had been killed by a direct hit in the engine room.

On a more personal note, it was well known that in 1924, while Captain Prothero was commanding Scythia from New York City to Liverpool, he had an appendicitis attack. Fortunately, the President of the Royal College of Surgeons was on board as a passenger. Sir Berkeley Moynihan successfully operated on Prothero.

Occupying second-class quarters, Gladys Parks probably never met Captain Prothero. However, first-class passengers would have seen him, the ship’s social host, at the captain’s table in the main dining saloon, and at social functions like Sunday religious services, cocktail parties, and grand balls.

There’s no way of knowing, but I’ve wondered if Gladys Parks suffered seasickness during her transatlantic voyage. In 1926 the illness was a common and accepted part of the sea journey. To minimize getting seasick, recommendations included having a cabin in the middle of the ship, getting fresh air, and an ineffective “cure” of drinking alcohol to settle the stomach.

Seasickness was common among the passengers even though the liner companies, fearing bad publicity, minimized its severity. But seasickness that tormented passengers and crew was no laughing manner to the individuals. The downward roll of a ship in motion and heavy seas caused many seamen and passengers to resort to taking Mothersills Seasick Remedy.

When second-class passengers weren’t seasick, many could be found on deck, walking and playing sports like shuffleboard, ring toss games, and tennis. Evening entertainment included formal dinners followed by live music, dancing, or amateur talent shows. I’ll bet Gladys couldn’t stay off the dance floor.

Gladys Gamble grew up in a Hull household where the family had to stretch its income to make ends meet, including a strict food budget during the war. I can imagine Gladys’ appetite on the Scythia while sitting in the airy and spacious dining room with long, communal tables set with white linen and silver, eating her way through multiple courses of abundant, high-quality British cuisine. While first-class passengers were served French culinary traditions, second-class passengers were pleased to have the choice of Yarmouth bloaters (smoked herring), grilled ox kidneys, roast muffin, and plum pudding.

When Robert Parks married Gladys on April 6, 1926, in Hull, England, he expected Gladys to quickly join him in the states. Instead, by Monday, June 14, Robert had waited two long months to reunite with his wife. At Chelsea Piers (probably Pier 54) upriver from New York City harbor, near West 14th Street, Robert must have felt both anxiety and mounting excitement. Depending on the distance Robert could see down the North River (Hudson River), he would have deciphered the details of every liner approaching the dock. Until he recognized Scythia, approaching ships were either the wrong size, had too many smokestacks, or their company’s color scheme didn’t match the Cunard Line.

While waiting, did Robert recall his mother, Anna, telling him of her 1894 voyage in steerage from Hamburg, Germany, to Montreal, Canada? Departing for America shortly after her wedding ceremony, Anna and Richard immigrated to Haven, Kansas, and settled in neighboring McPherson County—Robert’s birthplace—within a couple of years.

Having served in the US Navy during the World War, and on commercial cargo ships after the war, Robert knew about the risks of transatlantic travel. However, he had confidence in Captain Prothero, known as “Sailor Bill.” Prothero, a weatherbeaten, burly figure, had a reputation as an excellent commander who had risen from the ranks of early day sailing ships.

Robert recalled Captain Prothero’s ship, RMS Carpathia, being sunk by a German U-boat in 1918. Before Prothero commanded the ship, it was already known world-wide for rescuing over 700 passengers from the Titanic, owned by the White Star Line, after it sunk in 1912. The survivors were disembarked at the Cunard Line’s Pier 54, the same pier where Robert waited for Gladys.

Since both Prothero and Parks had worked the transatlantic route between New York City and England, it’s possible they had met. Parks could have heard the commander hail the pier head from the bridge without using a megaphone. However, it’s more likely that Robert had been in contact with one of Scythia‘s radio operators, possibly Arthur E. Roberts. The two may have passed along wireless messages or advised one another of weather conditions while at sea when Robert was a radio operator on the cargo ship Capulin.

At Pier 54, waiting for Scythia to enter the crowded river, Robert would have heard the blaring foghorns, deafening deep steam whistles of ocean liners used to signal their maneuvers while docking, high pitched whistles of ferries shuttling commuters across the Hudson, the chugging of steam winches, and the grinding of metal cranes from ships loading and unloading cargo. Nearby, Robert could hear the shouting of longshoremen, the barking of port officers, and loud shrills from the countless sea gulls that searched for food.

The pungent smells of the harbor overpowered the briny smell of the Atlantic. Sulfuric coal smoke from steamship funnels, the heavy scent of fuel oil, and hot machinery grease competed with the city’s untreated stinking sewage and industrial acid sludge.

By the time Robert spotted Scythia approaching, he understood medical inspectors had already boarded the ship at the harbor entrance and had begun examining the passengers. Hopefully, Robert thought, Gladys was healthy from her voyage and able to observe Lady Liberty welcoming immigrants to the United States. Since Gladys was traveling second-class, it was almost certain that she would not be detained and sent to Ellis Island for additional medical or legal tests. First- and second-class passengers regularly avoided the extended trip by ferry or barge to the “island of tears” for processing unless they had obvious contagious diseases or significant legal issues with their paperwork. Third-class passengers expected and feared the intense medical and legal screening.

As the liner Scythia approached the Cunard dock, surrounded by a swarm of black-and-red tugboats, Robert watched the groupings of passengers on deck come into individual focus. Searching for Gladys, he observed people waving and smiling enthusiastically, displaying signs of joy, happiness, and relief.

Scrutinizing every woman he could see on deck, Robert must have been shocked when he was unable to find Gladys, asking himself, “Where is she?” Growing worried by the second, Robert’s anxiety progressed, “What’s happened? Why isn’t she on deck? Could she be ill, in the hands of surgeons of the Public Health Service?

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