Secret of the Locket

Secret of the Locket

Suzanne Marsh

Night of April 14th-15th, 1912

“Lower boat fourteen.” The time was 1:25 in the morning; Fifth Officer Harold Lowe was in charge. Titanic, the bow now below water, was sinking rapidly. Lowe decided to return to see if there were any other survivors alive in the rubble of the Titanic. A wave washed a semiconscious man, handed a small golden locket to Lowe:

“It is too late for me to see that my wife gets this.” He was gone before Lowe could ask who he was. Lowe promised he would find the family and return the locket. He thought it possible the man had purchased on board the Titanic. He stuck it in a side pocket. Once again, Boat fourteen looked for survivors. After an hour, Lowe gave up attempting to find any other passengers alive. Once, safely aboard the Carpathia, he removed his pea coat, forgetting about the small locket.

May 12th, 1944

“Ellen, in the pocket of my pea coat, there is a small locket. I made a promise, but I didn’t keep it.

Would you please try...to find the owner.” He had breathed his last, and Ellen was faced with a task she had no idea how to begin. She went into the bedroom they had shared. She went to the back of the closet she found the pea coat. She went through the right-hand pocket first; there was no locket. She then felt around on the left; her fingers felt a very fragile chain. She carefully removed the locket, and she gasped at the gentle beauty of the design. She had no clue where it came from, but since it was the last thing her beloved husband had asked of her, she would painstakingly search for the owner of the locket. Ellen remembered that Harold had worn the pea coat home after the Titanic sank; perhaps that was where the locket came from. She would contact the White Star Line and get a list of the passengers. She carefully took the locket in her hands, admiring its beauty, the swirls that seemed to form someone's initials. The following morning, Harold Lowe was laid to rest in Saint Trillo’s Parish Churchyard. Ellen still had a purpose to locate the owner of the locket and return it; that was Harold’s last request.

June 1944-June 1946

Ellen was devastated by Harold’s passing; she thought of his smiling face as he told her A promise is a promise. She began to make a list of places that might have the answer to the locket. The first thing she required was a list of passengers from the ships he had served on. Titanic, she felt sure, was where the locket had come from. She knew that he had kept a journal, his years at sea. Conceivably, the answer could be in the journal. She climbed the three flights of stairs into the attic. The floors creaked as she strode toward his sea trunk, opened it, and removed all the journals. She paged through the journals; the first ones were merely notes about the different ships he served. She then found a salt-stained journal, a rather small one; one that would have fit in a pocket of his jacket. She began to read:

“I am hired for the new unsinkable ship, Titanic, the largest ship ever created by man. It is

within the White Star line. I put in for a transfer, and it was granted. A new ship, imagine me

as Fifth Officer Lowe. Titanic is unsinkable, or so the promoters say; for me, that remains to

be seen. They say her lines a graceful, everything is new, and one can still smell the fresh

paint.

Tomorrow, I will board her for the first time. I hope she is everything and more.

I am now on board, strange, the ship is beautiful, but I can not help feeling danger. I can’t

explain it. I have been on many different ships, but this one, well, this one there is something

about her that sends tingles down my spine. We will set sail on April 14th, 1912. They say

you can’t even tell she is moving; she is smooth. I understand that Mr. Bruce Ismay, the

owner, will be on board. Mr. Thomas Andrews, who is representing the shipbuilder. Mr. and Mrs.

J.J. Astor and their dog Kitty, are in first class. Mr. Astor checks on Kitty several times a day;

I wonder if he will do that after the ship leaves on her maiden voyage. I must say, the Titanic

is impressive; her size is overwhelming. The Olympic is her sister ship, and as I understand,

the last of the lot is to be called Gigantic.

April 10, 1912

We have finally set sail, after loading food and cargo and the passengers. I am sitting on a

deck chair writing, it seems this voyage is also going to break the record for the amount of time

between Southampton and New York City, USA. I heard Mr. Ismay talking; he wants her to

be there at least a day ahead of schedule. It is thrilling to feel her beneath my feet, so smooth on

the ocean. I hope Mr. Ismay is correct about it taking less time to sail than any other ship afloat.

April 12, 1912

The ocean is like glass under the Titanic; she is a wonderful ship. Mr. Andrews has built a good

ship. Captain Smith is a very experienced man; this is to be his last voyage, and he is going to

retire after we return from New York City. In two more days, this lovely warm weather will

disappear. I hope Captain Smith is cautious once we arrive in the area where there are icebergs

Every seaman knows to be watchful near bergs; they are terribly dangerous. There have been

ships over the years that struck a berg and sank; that won’t happen to the Titanic, she is unsinkable.

April 14th, 1912

It is 24:00, and distress flares are going off from the Titanic. We have struck an iceberg, and we are sinking

by the bow. Captain Smith has ordered women and children first. The lifeboats are being

removed from their davits. There was no lifeboat drill, so the crew and passengers had no idea

where to go or what to do. I must go to my station, please God let me survive.

April 15th, 1912

The Carpathia has come to our rescue. I am safely aboard now. A very queer thing happened

the night the Titanic sank. A man swam up to our boat. He was a passenger, asked me to give

a locket to his wife. I have no idea who he was. I put it in my pea coat pocket; when I return

home, I will see if I can discover who the man was; a promise is a promise. I was in boat

fourteen, I commanded it as we gathered some of the other lifeboats and began to attempt

rescue of some of the people who jumped into the icy cold waters of the Atlantic.”

Ellen had the first clue as to where to begin her search for the recipient of the locket. The design was very intricate; surely it was gold. She stared at the golden locket in her small, delicate hand, not sure if there was an “A” intricately entwined with a “C”. She decided to take the necklace to a jeweler she knew to an honest man.

She strode toward the jeweler's shop; the bell on the door sounded. The odd little man came out, smiled at Ellen:

“May I help you?”

“Yes,” Ellen replied:

“I have a small gold locket and I am trying to locate the owner.” She handed him the locket:

“This is one of mine. There was a young man who came in, told me he wanted a locket for

his wife was on the Titanic, I believe. Ellen was relieved:

“Do you remember his name by chance?”

“Yes, John Ash, his wife’s name was Catherine. He picked the locket up just before the Titanic

set sail.”

Ellen thanked the little man, and she strode back home. She then contacted the White Star line, asking about John Ash. Yes, she was informed, he had been on the Titanic, but no, he had not survived. The clerk gave her the address they had for him in London.

The following month, she contacted Catherine Ash, explaining that she had a locket for her from her husband. Catherine asked her to come to London and to bring the locket. The train left early the following morning, and Ellen had a short time to think about the locket before returning it. Something told her to open the locket; there was a small painting of a beautiful young woman, whom she assumed to be Catherine Ash. Ellen found the street address; rang the doorbell. A young woman answered the door. Catherine had informed her that there would be a woman visitor sometime today. The young woman motioned for her to come in. Catherine Ash sat in her wheelchair waiting to meet the woman who had found the locket.

Ellen strode over to her:

“Hello, I am Ellen Lowe. Here is your locket. I am sorry about your husband; I understand he

gave my husband the locket, hoping he would be able to find you. My husband put it in his

pea coat, which it remained until just before he passed away.” Catherine was intrigued by the delicate swirls and intricate use of John and her initials. Catherine looked up at Ellen:

“Thank you, Ellen, for returning this to me. Would you care for a cup of tea and a scone?”

“No,” Ellen replied, “I must return home on the train today. It was lovely meeting you.”

Later that evening, the train pulled into the station, and Ellen traversed the streets and was home almost immediately. Catherine, after Ellen left, opened the locket; she glared at it. The painting was not hers; who was that woman? She turned the locket over in her hand. There was a small opening:

Catherine pried it open with her fingernail. The woman in the picture was her sister, Anne. Had they had an affair? Catherine knew John had had at least one affair after she fell and broke her back. She felt a twinge of anger at Anne until she saw something in the portrait; the face was Anne’s. There was a ring on her finger. John had been planning to divorce Catherine and marry Anne.