How a Small Museum Deals with a Titanic Problem

Article by Ellie Veryard. Edited by Hamish Rogers. Additional Research by Ellie Veryard.

Godalming is one of those small towns which seem to produce a disproportionate amount of remarkable people. James Oglethorpe, founder of the state of Georgia, was one such person, Mary Toft- who perplexed eighteenth century doctors by giving birth to rabbits until she was rumbled- another. But alongside others, such as Colonel Baden-Powell, Gertrude Jekyll and Aldous Huxley, one long-past resident of nearby Farncombe, born of humble origins who set out not to found a state nor become famous, found himself one of the town’s most well-loved heroes. For Jack Phillips went down with the Titanic.

After finishing his school years at Godalming Grammar School in 1902, Phillips began work at the local Post Office, learning telegraphy until he started training as a wireless operator with the Marconi Company in 1906. After several years of employment on various ships he was called to serve upon the Titanic as senior wireless officer, with Harold Bride as his junior. 

On the 14th April when the Titanic struck ice Phillips remained in the wireless room with Bride, sending distress signals and communicating with the Bridge. Only when water began pouring in, shorting the circuits of the wireless equipment did Bride and Phillips finally leave their post and make for their lifeboats. Circumstances surrounding Phillips death are confused to say the least, with witnesses unable to agree on where he had last been seen. Most likely Phillips died suffering from hypothermia on or near the upturned Lifeboat B. He was remembered as the wireless operator who went down with the ship. 

In recent years, however, Phillips’ heroic status has been shaken by evidence which suggested he was responsible for a failure in communication with the Bridge which could have averted the tragedy. Phillips had been reportedly trying to clear a backlog of passenger telegrams to Cape Race in Newfoundland when news came through from the steamship Mesaba warning the Titanic of a serious number of icebergs directly in her path. Despite acknowledging the Mesaba’s message, it never made it to the Bridge and was later reported by Second Office Charles Lightroller that Phillips waited to clear the backlogged messages before considering to deliver the warning. Lightroller, who has since been criticised for his lack of inaccurate reporting of the disaster, blamed the absence of the warning for the scale of the disaster. 

Around an hour and a half later, Cyril Evans, wireless operator on the SS Californian telegraphed the Titanic, warning them the Californian was surrounded by ice. The reply from Phillips supposedly read “Shut up Shut up I am busy working Cape Race!” After waiting for any further communications Evans finally shut off his wireless equipment; the Titanic’s closest neighbour would be unable to receive her distress call. Only forty minutes later the Titanic hit the iceberg that would sink her. From this point on Philip’s remained at his post until the last, working with Bride to send distress calls to the nearest ships, but his earlier actions of neglect would lead to his remembrance as the man who several claim could have prevented the sinking. 

Phillips has been honoured by the town of Godalming for his bravery in remaining at his post with a memorial garden and cloister opened in 1914- coincidentally the largest Titanic memorial in the world- and a sizeable display in Godalming Museum as well as giving his name to one of the local pubs. Whilst there will be some who question the memorial to a man they believe to be more of a culprit than the hero, the town will commemorate the centennial anniversary of the sinking of the Titanic with events remembering not just Jack Phillips but all of those who suffered in the disaster. 

These past two years the tiny Godalming museum has been inundated with requests regarding the Titanic, in particular Jack Philips. Whilst volunteering there over the course of two summers it became clear just how much information the museum, staffed mainly volunteers, is expected to produce. From film crews in the summer of 2010, to students writing dissertations, to local schools asking about learning resources, the museum is practically being besieged. 

“Do you think everyone thinks we’re disorganised?” The curator asks the librarian after one frantic day of trying to recover prints, answer the same questions from different people and finalise a different important event happening that weekend.

Things may be frantic but the museum is infused with a sense of resigned optimism. “They should make a TV programme on what it’s really like; ‘open at unusual and erratic hours’” one cheerful volunteer who only came in for a chat and got roped into helping out tells me. She’s not the first to say that. 

Alongside the exhibitions and preparations for school visits and activities, a flock of researchers has descended on the library, each vying for the vast quantity of Titanic related resources, some newly acquired, others in the archive for years. 

“Can I see the stuff that so and so hasn’t seen yet?” One researcher hisses to an assistant, and they both peer out the library window to check if said rival has left the premises. 

The Titanic apparently turns researchers into quasi-secret operatives. Loyalties torn I pretend I haven’t heard and carry on with my filing. 

But aside from researcher rivalry the museum volunteers are pulling together to create some very impressive interactive exhibits. One, very committed, volunteer is stitching together a full-size replica of an adult life jacket. It’s huge, extremely heavy and, if anything like its original counterpart, will break your neck if worn whilst jumping from more than 10ft into water. I had been going to suggest the Exhibition’s Coordinator try it out but now I think that might be taken the wrong way. 

One hundred years on, the sinking of the Titanic still attracts a large amount of attention, and although public fervour is probably less intense, and certainly less raw, than the first few anniversaries after the disaster, empathy with both victims and survivors still exists. The Titanic was a tragedy; even from afar we can appreciate that. 

From March to May the museum will host its Titanic exhibition, alongside which will run other events, from recreating transmissions on an original wireless system, to showings of newsreels of the opening of the Phillip’s memorial, Edwardian picnics and talks by renowned Titanic experts. On the 15th April 2012, coinciding with the hundredth anniversary of the Titanic a memorial will be held for all the victims of the sinking. Earlier in the day a small memorial will take place at the Phillip’s family grave. Regardless of questions of culpability, Phillips remained at his post despite being given the all clear to leave by the Captain. The people of Godalming have to chosen to honour that final act of bravery. By remembering final acts of courage, that’s how a tiny museum solves the titanic task of dealing with the Titanic.

• 2224 people were aboard the Titanic when it struck an iceberg on xx. 1514 of them did not survive the disaster.

• 659 out of 805 male passengers lost their lives on the Titanic. Out of 885 male crew members, 693 were lost.

• 106 out of 417 female passengers died. Out of 23 female crew, 20 were saved. 

• 53 children out of 109 died in the disaster; of those which lost their lives all but one were third class passengers.

• Men, including male crew, and those travelling on lowest class tickets were the least likely to survive. Most deaths were caused from hypothermia in the wake of the evacuation. 

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