Richard Lionel Taylor, always known as “Lionel”, was born in Montreal, Quebec, Canada, on the 3rd June 1883, the son of Herbert John and Elizabeth Taylor (née Cawley). His father was a house painter and Lionel was the eldest of four known children in the family.
He became a hat and fur buyer and later a hat manufacturer in Montreal. He had reason to travel to Europe on regular buying trips from at least 1910. In 1911 or 1912, he married Beatrice Calverley, and Englishwoman, and the couple established their home at 144. Cote St. Antoine Road, Westmount, Quebec. Their daughter, Doris, was born in August 1912.
In the spring of 1915, he had to travel on business to England for his firm, W.H. Henry of Montreal, and consequently booked as a saloon passenger on what became the Lusitania’s final voyage out of New York.
Having left Montreal at the end of April, he joined the liner at her berth at Pier 54 in New York harbour on the morning of 1st May and with ticket number 13165, he boarded the steamer. He was then escorted to his accommodation, Room B95 which was under the personal supervision of First Class Bedroom Steward Thomas Dawes, who came from Walton, a district of Liverpool.
The liner’s sailing was delayed until the afternoon as she had to embark passengers, some crew and cargo from the Anchor Liner, which had been requisitioned by the British Admiralty for war work at the end of April. She finally left the port just after mid-day and just six days later, on the afternoon of 7th May; she was torpedoed and sunk twelve miles off the coast of southern Ireland and only hours away from her Liverpool destination.
Before the ship sank, Lionel Taylor was able to get into a lifeboat, from which he was eventually rescued and landed at Queenstown and he later gave accounts of his survival and his views on the sinking to the press. The Yorkshire Post of 11th May 1915 published his account of the sinking: -
I assisted to push off the lifeboats, then I went down to the promenade deck, where I found ten people getting away by the last boat. They shouted to me to get in. I jumped and five or six other people followed on the top of me. There were plenty of boats on the port side, but owing to the list of the ship, the tackle prevented them from being launched. They were full of women and children and I should think they were the first to go down. The crew worked hard to save the passengers. .....
From what I could see, it seemed that a torpedo was aimed at us which did not strike the ship. There was, apparently a track of a torpedo in the water but the Lusitania made a slew around and avoided it. Then she was struck, and it was not long before she started to settle down. When I got into the boat, the vessel had listed to such an extent that one of the funnels was right over us.
There were quite enough boats, but the difficulty with those on the port side was that they could not be lowered owing to the great height at which that side of the vessel stood out of the water. The boats had previously been swinging from their davits. I should say it was about twenty minutes from the time we heard the thud till the ship disappeared.
In an interview published in The New York Times on 10th May 1915, he gave his opinion of who was responsible for the disaster: -
How the Lusitania's officers can account for letting her creep through waters known to be dangerous, is beyond me. It showed, to my mind, a queer lack of the simplest precautions. I fail to understand why she took the course she did knowing that submarines had been there the day before.
Who blundered? The rescued passengers at Queenstown to whom I talked all commented on the captain daring to run the Lusitania at slow speed and in the course he pursued. Nothing, of course, can shift the blame from Germany for wilful murder, but the point I make is that more care should have been exercised by those on whom the lives of the passengers depended.
Bedroom Steward Dawes, who had looked after Richard Taylor in room B95, perished the sinking and never saw his Walton home again.
Lionel Taylor returned to Quebec on board the St. Louis on the 7th June 1915, and either before he left England, or on his return to Quebec, he lodged a claim for compensation, amounting to $454.00, with the British Foreign Office for the loss of his personal possessions as a result of the sinking of the Lusitania.
His claim was subsequently forwarded to the Canadian Commission for their consideration and attention, and in June 1923, he appeared in person before the Commission, who advised him to revise his claim, which he duly did. He raised the amount for his personal possessions to $809.75, and also filed an additional claim for $2,000 in respect of personal injuries and shock. In December 1926, the Commission
awarded him his full claim of $809.75 for the loss of his personal possessions, and a further $500 for personal injuries.
Lionel Taylor later became a director and vice-president of Boulter-Waugh Company Limited, Montreal, who mainly dealt in furs. In 1936, he became the managing director of the Kay Manufacturing Company, a position he held until the time of his death. He was an avid golfer, being a member of the Senneville and Summerlea Golf Clubs in Montreal.
On the 2nd April 1956, Richard Lionel Taylor died suddenly, aged 72 years. He was laid to rest with his parents and brother, Herbert, in Mont-Royal Cemetery, Quebec.
Quebec Canada Vital and Church Records (Drouin Collection) 1621 – 1968, 1891 Census of Canada, 1901 Census of Canada, 1921 Census of Canada, Canadian Passenger Lists 1865 – 1935, New York Passenger Lists 1820 – 1957, Canada Ocean Arrivals 1919 – 1924, Cunard Records, Canadian Claims Case No. 881, New York Times, The Gazette, Yorkshire Observer, PRO BT 21/72, PRO BT 100/345, Graham Maddocks, Stuart Williamson, Geoff Whitfield, Michael Poirier, Jim Kalafus, Cliff Barry, Paul Latimer, Norman Gray.
Copyright © Peter Kelly.