Alice Luann Moore was born in Wales, Erie County, New York, in the United States of America, on the 7th June 1861, the daughter of Welcome and Melinda Moore (née Bush). Her father was a farmer, and when her mother died in 1863, he remarried within a short period of time.
She was educated at Emerson College, Boston, Massachusetts, and became a schoolteacher at East Aurora Academy, East Aurora, in the state of New York.
Sometime in the early 1890’s she began an affair with Elbert Hubbard, the leader of the local art community in East Aurora, and founder of The Roycroft Press. Hubbard, known as “The Sage of East Aurora”
and “Fra Elbertus”, was married, and the father of three children. As a result of the affair, Alice gave birth to a daughter, Miriam, in 1894, the same year Hubbard’s wife, Bertha, gave birth to her fourth child with Hubbard, a daughter named Katherine.
In 1903, Hubbard and his wife fought a bitter divorce battle, where both were awarded custody of two of their children, thus splitting the family. On 20th January 1904, Alice married Elbert Hubbard in Bridgeport, Connecticut. They continued to live in East Aurora, where her husband ran a successful printing and manufacturing business, which republished old classics and made modern style furniture and furnishings. He was himself a prolific writer and not only wrote successful books but also edited two monthly magazines and articles for the popular market.
Alice, who was a committed feminist, wrote six books which were printed by The Roycroft Press.
After the Great War had broken out, in one of his magazines called The Philistine, he had written an article that made a scathing condemnation of Kaiser Wilhelm II and the German Army’s ravages in Belgium and France. This article was entitled
The Man Who Lifted The Lid Off Hell and Elbert Hubbard decided that he ought to go to Europe to deliver its message personally. He even hoped that he might be able to meet the Kaiser in person, despite the fact that he realised that his published views would hardly make him welcome in Germany!
As a consequence, having overcome some difficulties, he booked saloon passage for himself and Alice Hubbard on the
Lusitania, which was due to leave New York on 1st May 1915. The couple arrived at the liner’s berth at Pier 54 in the harbour there on the morning of that date and after they had boarded the vessel (with ticket number 46096), they were escorted to room B70, which was under the personal supervision of First Class Bedroom Steward John Roach. Roach came from the
Lusitania’s home port of Liverpool.
The Cunarder finally left New York, (after a delayed start), just after mid-day and both Alice and Elbert Hubbard used the journey to full effect as a social opportunity, as they met many people, famous and otherwise, from American and British society. Alice Hubbard’s husband was of the opinion that the Germans would not stoop so low as to sink the
Lusitania - especially after having warned its passengers that that was their intention! On the afternoon of 7th May, when the liner was six days out of New York, the Hubbards were actually on deck when the
Lusitania was struck by a torpedo fired from the German submarine U-20.
Second cabin passenger Archie Donald from Edinburgh, in Scotland, later described seeing them both on deck after the torpedo had struck, both refusing to be helped into a lifeboat, true to Elbert Hubbard’s earlier conviction. They were afterwards spotted by fellow saloon passenger Charles Lauriat, who urged them to go to their room and fetch their life jackets. Despite this exhortation, the couple failed to move and Lauriat volunteered to fetch them some from his own room, which was B5. When he returned they were no longer there and what had happened to them was not made clear until March 1916, when a new friend they had met on board, journalist Ernest Cowper wrote to Elbert Hubbard II - the son of ‘Fra Elbertus’
and always known as ‘Bert’ about the last minutes of the Hubbards’ life. This was later printed by him, in the foreword to
The Selected Writings of Elbert Hubbard, which was published in 1928, and read: -
"The Province" Office
Vancouver, B.C., March 12, 1916
Dear Mr. Hubbard:
I should have written what I have written to you a long while ago - but I don't know, it seems as if the Lusitania left its seal on every one who was in it, and even now, almost a year later, I am afraid all the survivors are thinking more seriously of May 7, than they are of their business or the other things they should attend to. I know that is the case with me.
If you have been informed that there was a man on board who was in the company of your father and Mrs. Hubbard on many occasions, I guess they have me in mind, for we really did spend a lot of time together - so much so that he took to calling me ‘Jack.’ I don't know why, unless it was that I was then going on an assignment for the paper called Jack Canuck.
The night previous to the murder, I and Rogers, the proprietor of Jack Canuck, had attended at his cabin for a sort of little conversazione, a fruit feast or steamboat visit, in return for a visit he had made to me the night previously. I did not see him again until the next day, just a little before the torpedo hit us. I then called the attention of himself and Mrs. Hubbard to the extra watch which had been put on for submarines, and walked them forward to where two men were right at the stern with glasses. Two were on each side of the navigating-bridge, and three were in the crow's nest, which is half way up the foremast.
He expressed surprise at this, for he was sure a submarine would never make any effort to torpedo a ship filled with women, children and non-combatants. He mentioned the fact that there were no guns on board, and that there was no place to put them. I agreed that there were no guns, but pointed out that there were places to put them, and walked both round to the places which were built with the vessel for the mounting of guns if required.
Nobody but one having a close acquaintance with a ship would know what the round, elevated patch on the deck was for; but I come from a seafaring family, (my father having been drowned at sea while in command), and so I knew what they were for.
We then parted to go to our cabins before taking lunch. On finishing mine, I went to the top deck, and was smoking with Rogers when I saw the torpedo coming toward us. We both sought the shelter of the companionway until after the explosion, when I saw another coming and again took shelter. After the second one we emerged, for the vessel took a terrible list right away. I can not say specifically where your father and Mrs. Hubbard were when the torpedoes hit, but I can tell you just what happened after that. They emerged from their room, which was on the port side of the vessel, and came on to the boat-deck.
Neither appeared perturbed in the least. Your father and Mrs. Hubbard linked arms - the fashion in which they always walked the deck - and stood apparently wondering what to do. I passed him with a baby which I was taking to a lifeboat, when he said, “Well, Jack, they have got us. They are a damn sight worse that I ever thought they were.”
They did not move very far away from where they originally stood. As I moved to the other side of the ship, in preparation for a jump when the right moment came, I called to him, "What are you going to do?" and he just shook his head, while Mrs. Hubbard smiled and said, "There does not seem to be anything to do."
The expression seemed to produce action on the part of your father, for then he did one of the most dramatic things I ever saw done. He simply turned with Mrs. Hubbard and entered a room on the top deck, the door of which was open, and closed it behind him. It was apparent that his idea was that they should die together, and not risk being parted on going into the water.
The blow to yourself and your sister must have been terrible, and yet, had you seen what I have seen, you would be greatly consoled, for never in history, I am sure, did two people look the Reaper so squarely in the eye at his approach as did your father and Mrs. Hubbard. It was there that the philosopher shone. Both showed that they had not been talking for talk's sake, or writing because it presented itself as a means of securing a livelihood. Both were philosophers, and both showed that they were each other's most apt pupils. I don't believe that the prospect at that moment troubled them any more than it would have done had the call been to go to lunch instead of to tread The Valley of the Long Shadow.
If he wrote his philosophy, he certainly lived it to the last moment. He was a big man in life, but to my mind he is a vastly bigger man in death. I suppose you have asked yourself the question; "Was it possible for them to have been saved? Did they really do all that could be done?" To this I would say they could do nothing more than was done, especially if they wanted to remain together, and apparently there was no intention on either side of separating. .....
Yours very faithfully,
Ernest C. Cowper,
They then almost certainly both perished when the ship took her final plunge. As neither of their bodies was ever recovered, neither has a known grave. Alice Hubbard was aged 53 years, although Cunard records state that she was 39 years old at the time she was killed. This may have been the age she gave when her ticket was first booked
Bedroom Steward Roach, who had looked after the couple in room B70 did survive, however, and eventually got back home to Liverpool.
When the news of the tragic loss reached East Aurora, all the flags were flown at half-mast and pictures of the couple were draped with black crepe. Elbert Hubbard’s son Bert refused, for a long time, to believe that his father and step mother had been killed!
Elbert Hubbard II, on behalf of himself, and Elbert’s other three children by his first marriage, Ralph, Sanford, and Katherine, and Elbert and Alice’s daughter Miriam, filed claims for compensation for the deaths of Elbert and Alice in the tragic sinking. On 2nd October 1924, the Mixed Claims Commission rendered their decision.
The Commission awarded Elbert Hubbard II and Miriam the sum of $25,000.00, each, and Katherine Hubbard the sum of $7,500.00 in compensation for the loss of their parents, and Elbert Hubbard II, as executor of both Elbert and Alice’s wills was awarded a further $2,000.00 for the loss of their personal belongings, which went down with the great liner.
In July 1917, aged 22 years, Miriam Hubbard married H.D. Roelofs, a university instructor, and by October 1917, the couple had four children.
Connecticut Marriage Records 1897 – 1968, 1865 New York State Census, 1870 U.S. Federal Census, 1880 U.S. Federal Census, 1892 New York State Census, 1900 U.S. Federal Census, 1905 New York State Census, 1910 U.S. Federal Census, U.S. Passport Applications 1795 – 1925, Cunard Records, Mixed Claims Commission Docket No. 437 & 438, The Roycroft Community, New York Times, San Francisco Chronicle, Selected Writings of Elbert Hubbard, Seven Days To Disaster, Last Voyage of the Lusitania, PRO 22/71, PRO BT 100/345, Deaths at Sea 1871 – 1968, Graham Maddocks, Nyle Monday, Geoff Whitfield, Michael Poirier, Jim Kalafus, Cliff Barry, Paul Latimer, Norman Gray.
Copyright © Peter Kelly.