Walter Dawson was born in Sowerby, North Yorkshire, England, on the 26th December 1891, the son of Henry Edward Walton and Sarah Dawson (née Normanton). The family home by 1911 was at 9, Fixby Avenue, Pye Nest Gate, King’s Cross, Halifax, Yorkshire. Walter was the second eldest of five children, having three brothers and a sister. On the 9th October 1912, he married Alice Billington in Halifax, Yorkshire, and on the 11th May 1913, the couple were blessed with the birth of a daughter, Muriel Alice, who was their only child.
On the 9th October 1913, the couple and their infant daughter arrived in New York aboard the
Laconia and then they travelled to Lowell, Massachusetts, in the United States of America, where Walter found employment as a painter and paperhanger.
In the spring of 1915, he decided to return home to England in order to enlist in the army, and as a consequence, booked as a third class passenger on what proved to be the
Lusitania's final crossing of the Atlantic. His wife and daughter had travelled to England ahead of him.
He survived the sinking and eventually made it back to Halifax, on 10th May 1915, where he gave an account of his experiences at The Old Post Office Yard, Elland, the home of his mother-in-law, to a reporter of
The Halifax Evening Courier, which later published his story: -
Mr Dawson, a paper hanger, had been returning home as a third class passenger, having gone to the United States two years previously.
He actually saw the periscope of the German submarine and a few moments later was drenched by the huge volume of water sent up into the air by the explosion. Immediately, he went to the boat deck but was unable to get a lifebelt and went to the starboard side. In the meantime, the boat was listing heavily and he crawled up to the port side. When it went down, he dived into the water although he regarded his chance of being saved as very small. He struggled on, however, eventually reaching a water-logged boat and was picked up five hours later by a torpedo boat and taken to Queenstown.
The reporter observed: ‘The young man shows dark signs of the terrible hardships he faced and the anxious moments he went through.’
A more thorough account was also published in The Yorkshire Observer,
which appeared in the newspaper on 10th May after another interview with the survivor, and stated: -
I was on the stern of the ship for a start. A pal I met on board, Frederick Isherwood of Atherton, near Manchester and I had removed a package there. Afterwards I left him and stopped with a party near 'midships who were looking over the side for porpoises. The weather was delightfully bright and clear and the steamer was going at a speed of about 15 knots an hour. - nothing like the top speed. The party consisted of myself, a Mr. and Mrs. Veal,
(sic) Mrs. Veal's (sic) brother, and two young ladies.
Albert and Agnes Veale were travelling home to Bristol from Orange, Newark, New Jersey, U.S.A., together with Mrs. Veale's brother Mr. Frederick Bailey. The identity of the
two young ladies is not known. Walter Dawson continued his story: -
At that moment, Mr. Veal (sic) pointed out a little white streak coming across the water towards the ship and following the streak I saw the periscope of a submarine. The torpedo struck the ship a bit forward of us and the explosion threw up a huge volume of water which absolutely drenched the six of us. I climbed on to the boat deck, but being unable to get downstairs for a lifebelt, I returned to the starboard side.
The ship had listed heavily and I had to crawl up the deck to the port side where Isherwood and I helped the men with the lifeboats. With my pal I then went round the saloon cabins looking for lifebelts, but we could not find any. Isherwood persisted in the search, but I went on deck and I fancy he got trapped below. I have not seen him since.
Third class passenger Frederick Isherwood who was on his way back home to Atherton from Santiago, Chile, was, in fact, killed in the disaster and as no trace of his body was ever discovered afterwards, it is probable that Walter Dawson was correct in thinking that he never made it back to the boat deck when the liner sank. Dawson continued his narrative: -
After the first explosion, the ship seemed to right herself and the captain gave the orders for no more boats to be lowered. Then she heeled over again onto her starboard side, and within three minutes she was going down by the nose. I thought it was time for me to be getting a move on. I ran to the stern of the port boat deck. I stayed there as long as I could before I dived.
When I came up again I seemed to have swallowed gallons of water and the first thing that I saw was the disappearing stern of the great ship. Being without a lifebelt, I thought I had no chance of being saved. I swam about for a time and got hold of a little kiddie but I lost him later in helping a boy about 7 years of age. At last I reached a water-logged boat, which was supporting a few more men including a couple of stewards, one of whom, named Griffiths, I believe was badly crushed. The little boy died in our arms before help came.
The only steward on the ship with the surname of Griffiths was Chief Third Class Steward John Griffiths from Wallasey, Cheshire, who also survived the sinking.
The boat frequently rolled over with the swell of the sea and all the time we were deep in water even when we were in the boat. I had been in the water five hours when a torpedo-boat came along and threw ropes to us. My watch had stopped at exactly 2.33 p.m. I suppose that would be the time I went into the sea. The torpedo-boat took us to Queenstown and we got out of our wet clothes at midnight when we went to bed at an hotel after getting a little supper.
Mr. Dawson went on to say that there was no panic on board and all behaved splendidly at very trying moment; the women too. I never saw anything so cool in my life. He was not aware of the liner being struck by a second torpedo as he only heard one explosion and although he was near where the torpedo struck, he was not aware of any noxious gasses either.
He left Queenstown the day after his rescue and having travelled to Dublin, crossed the Irish Sea to Holyhead. Not unnaturally, he stated: -
I was very nervous about submarines and kept a look out for them. If I hear a noise now I jump, thinking it is a torpedo.
Apart from suffering from the shock of his ordeal, Mr. Dawson also had a badly bruised leg and later in the year, he was considered for further compensation by The Lusitania Relief Fund, which was administered by The Lord Mayor of Liverpool. He had already been sent £5-0s-0d on account of his losses, on 5th June 1915, at his parents’ home, through the Mayor of Halifax. This was later confirmed to have been a final payment.
It is not known if he enlisted, but in May 1924 he arrived in Canada and settled in Ontario. He died in Ennismore, Peterborough County, Ontario, on the 21st December 1958, aged 66 years, his funeral being held on Christmas Eve.
Register of Births, Marriages and Deaths, West Yorkshire England Church of England Births and Baptisms 1813 – 1910, West Yorkshire England Church of England Marriages and Banns 1813 – 1935, 1901 Census of England & Wales, 1911 Census of England & Wales, Massachusetts Passenger and Crew Lists 1820 - 1963, Canada Ocean Arrivals 1919 – 1924, Cunard Records, Liverpool Record Office, Halifax Evening Courier, Yorkshire Observer, Lowell Sun, Boston Globe, UniLiv D92/2/174, Graham Maddocks, Kim Izzo, Geoff Whitfield, Michael Poirier, Jim Kalafus, Cliff Barry, Paul Latimer, Norman Gray.
Copyright © Peter Kelly.