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The diary of the Honourable Constance Fleet

Wednesday, 10th April, 1912

At last, we are on the great Titanic , Lester and I.

I was beginning to worry that Lester was not wholly committed to his fiancée.

He was dithering so. There was always some excuse as to why he couldn’t travel.

Something important to do in London, or Broadmere, or an invitation he couldn’t decline.

But here we are, on our way to America, on this magnificent ship.

And, oh, what a splendid ship she is. Indeed, she is the largest ever built, and I’m sure the most beautiful.

It is thrilling to be travelling on her maiden voyage.

I did try to persuade Bertha to come, to conquer her fear of boats, but she dug in her heels and refused to even consider it.

She said she has a fear of water if it is deeper than a bath! Quelle folie!

The scenes at Southampton docks were extraordinary.

Crowds of people waving off their loved ones and the enormous decks of the ship teeming with passengers.

It is really quite a challenge to take in the sheer size of the vessel!

The excitement was palpable, the cries a roar!

Then the giant funnels belched out smoke and off we went, accompanied by a flotilla of small boats, keen to see us off into the big blue sea.

To my dismay, L has insisted on bringing G with him, which is not only extravagant but exasperating, as I have to suffer him and I find him odious.

When we were planning the voyage, I suggested that L travel without a valet, but he would not hear of it.

What is a viscount without his valet, he argued, and I suppose I do agree with him on that point.

If he is to marry Esme Aldershoff, he must at least play the part of a man of means.

If the Aldershoffs knew the truth about his dwindling fortune and shameful habits, I’m sure they would call off the engagement at once.

I do hope Esme not only fills up the family coffers, but rescues Lester from himself, and instils in him a sense of duty and decorum.

Glover must know that I mistrust him for he gives me surly looks.

I have taken to ignoring him completely.

I do not condone his influence over my nephew.

He is a bad egg and he makes me feel increasingly uneasy.

I fear Lester is leaving himself open to blackmail, or something of the kind.

He is young and foolish, and Glover, albeit young too, is streetwise and wily.

I must listen to my intuition for it has never let me down.

What worries me more than anything is that I would be the last person in whom Lester would confide were he to find himself in a precarious position.

I need to win his trust so that he can turn to me for help.

Besides his hopeless mother, I am the only close family member he has.

We have been at odds over my involvement with the suffragettes.

I must make more of an effort to put those differences to the side.

My cabin is delightfully comfortable, and the crew are both gracious and polite.

Wherever one looks there are helpful people in uniform waiting to be of service.

I feel as if I am in a large house party of society’s most elite.

Among the passengers is John Jacob Astor, the American millionaire, and his wife, Madeleine.

They have brought their dog with them called Kitty.

They are well acquainted with the Aldershoffs, and Lester and I have already struck up a friendship.

They have suggested we go to Newport. The Aldershoffs have a house there – indeed, it seems that Newport is the place to be in the summer.

I very much look forward to seeing it and meeting new people.

Truly, I have grown tired of London. New people beckon me like a bright beacon of lighthouse to a weary traveller.

Speaking of new people, I have taken an immediate liking to a boisterous and vivacious American lady called Mrs J.J.

Brown (her husband is not with her). Her friends call her Maggie.

She is from Denver, Colorado, and is immensely wealthy.

She has opinions and is not afraid to voice them, and in the most strident tones.

I have noticed that the English ladies turn up their noses at her, but I enjoy her confidence and vitality.

She has esprit ! We took tea together in the Café Parisien, which is so pretty with its view of the ocean and French trellising.

I was delighted to notice that the ivy and creeping plants that climb up it are real.

Charmant ! The food is excellent, and we feasted on scones and eclairs.

Maggie told me that the Aldershoffs have an enormous mansion in Newport.

They call those palaces ‘cottages’, which is wonderfully ironic.

It’s not as large as Beechwood, which is the Astor’s ‘cottage’, but it’s mighty impressive.

Maggie was very interested to hear about Emmeline Pankhurst and impressed with my involvement in the WSPU.

She says that if EP goes to America again, she will offer to host a party for her.

I cannot wait to tell EP. I’m sure she will go down very well across the Atlantic!

We stopped at Cherbourg to pick up passengers. Tomorrow we will stop at Queenstown and then head out into the wide-open sea. Palpitant !

Drinks before dinner was lively. Lester is in his element, charming all the young ladies.

He certainly takes a shine to Americans.

I am anxious to get him into the arms of his fiancée.

He rarely speaks of her and seems easily distracted by other young women.

We should never have left it so long but travelled out in January.

The sooner we get to the Aldershoffs’ house, the better.

He needs to see Esme again to remind him of her beauty and grace, and of where his duty lies.

And I need to see to it that his eye does not stray on this ship!

There are many Americans here who know the Aldershoffs.

Lester must arrive without the slightest stain on his reputation!

A rubber of bridge after dinner. I partnered Lester and won. Maggie says she will partner Lester tomorrow in order to split us up. She claims we have an unfair advantage being related. I like Maggie very much.

Thursday, 11th April, 1912

I found a free desk in the writing room and set about penning a letter to Bertha on vellum paper embellished with the White Star Line company’s red flag.

As I was sealing up the envelope, I noticed a shy young woman at the next-door desk surreptitiously squirrelling away postcards in her bag.

She noticed me watching her and blushed to the roots of her hair.

Poor dear was most embarrassed to have been caught.

I reassured her by commenting that it would be rude not to take souvenirs, and she gave me a charming smile in return.

She is called Isabella Norris and is here with her mother.

Her father died and they are starting a new life in America.

When she mentioned her father, her big eyes welled with tears and she looked utterly bereft.

My heart went out to her, poor child. She told me that the worst of it was that she never got to say goodbye, because he was killed in an accident.

I told her about my spirit board and her tears dried at once.

She was most curious and asked whether she could try to communicate with her father.

I suggested we have a seance in my cabin after lunch.

She took my hand and thanked me, and asked most specifically not to tell her mama, who considers spirit boards the work of the devil.

I promised her that I would tell no one.

She asked if she could bring a friend and I told her that she could.

We stopped at Queenstown to pick up passengers.

Most were steerage passengers on their way to the New World.

I took my letter to the post office and then went up to stroll along the promenade deck.

There was a chilly breeze, but the sea was only mildly ruffled.

I wrapped my coat about me and went in search of Maggie.

Instead of Maggie, I found Lester smoking by the railing and watching the grey coastline of Ireland looming out of the mist. It takes the breath away with its beauty.

‘Aunt Constance,’ he said when he saw me. ‘What devilish things are you up to?’

I couldn’t help but laugh. Lester’s smile is winning. I told him that there is only room for one devil in this family and that’s him.

He offered me a cigarette. It isn’t ladylike to smoke on deck, like a sailor – indeed, Mother would turn in her grave if she knew I was indulging in such an unbecoming pastime, but I accepted all the same.

I do so loathe those kinds of conventions.

In fact, I rather relish defying them. I popped one between my lips and Lester lit it.

He asked whether I was going to grill him about Glover again.

I told him I didn’t fancy wasting my breath.

‘You’re no longer a boy. You’re not my responsibility.

If you don’t mind him pawning your possessions, as well as wearing them, that’s your business. ’

He laughed and changed the subject, commenting on, ‘Poor, troubled Ireland,’ but there was no feeling in his words.

He is not one to feel empathy, being so unutterably selfish.

I thought Ireland beautiful, so green and lush and wild.

He said it’s like a sinking ship. ‘You’ll watch the rats deserting it now in their droves.

Leaving it to sink and heading for uncertain futures on this unsinkable ship.

I’m not sure what they hope to find in America.

It might be nothing more than a mirage. Smoke and mirrors. Perhaps they had better stay at home.’