*****

 

Edward Pomeroy Colley was the fourth and youngest son of Henry Colley and his wife Bena, née Elizabeth Wingfield. Born on 15 April 1875, the Dublin-born civil engineer was destined to have the lousy distinction of being the only person on Titanic who drowned on his birthday.

When Eddie was born, the Colleys were living at Lucan Lodge near Leixlip, County Dublin. He was five years old when they relocated to a bigger but, as Elizabeth Bowen recalled, ‘sunless house’ at Ferney, Stillorgan, south of Dublin City. In 1881, they moved again, settling in Clontarf, north of Dublin, where Henry bought the Mount Temple estate from the barrister (later Sir) John Calvert Stronge. [As chance would have it, he was a brother of Pauline McClintock Bunbury, whose husband built Lisnavagh.]

Educated at Haileybury, Eddie went on to study civil engineering at Trinity College Dublin, graduating with second class honours on 23 April 1897, shortly after his 22nd birthday. ^[1] He evidently became something of a favourite of the Earl and Countess of Cadogan during his lordship’s term as Viceroy. He was first presented at a levée in Dublin Castle on 26 February 1896 at which the band of the 15th Hussars played and Field Marshal Lord Roberts was a guest of honour. Six months later, Eddie attended a garden party the Cadogans hosted at the Viceregal Lodge in Phoenix Park. [2]  He was also at a levee at the castle in February 1897 and, a year later, he and his older brother George Colley attended the first State Ball of the season that they attended at Dublin Castle. [3] He attended another State Ball at the Castle the following month. [4] At the end of April 1898, he departed from Kingstown (Dun Laoghaire) on the Royal Mail steamer.[5] I suspect this was when he first voyaged to Canada.

 

*****

 

By 1898, the Klondike Gold Rush was gathering momentum in the Yukon in north-western Canada. Perhaps inspired by tales of his uncle John Thomas Colley, who died in California forty years earlier, Eddie headed west to assay British Columbia with his Haileybury friend Frank Dickinson, a brother of the athletic Cyril Henry Dickinson.

When the Anglo-Boer War broke out in 1899, Frank volunteered for service, ultimately playing a pivotal role in the episode that resulted in James Rogers winning a Victoria Cross. [6] The suggestion that Eddie also served in that war is based on the fact that three of the lots that he later surveyed on François Lake for his personal use were obtained from the government through what was known as a South Africa War Script. Some of his land on the north-west shore of François Lake later evolved into the small town of Colleymount, which was named in his honour, as was Mount Colley, a 4037ft / 1230m mountain directly to the north of Colleymount. [7]

In April 1901, Eddie passed the Land Surveyors’ examination, winning the approval of the Board of Examiners (comprising the Surveyor General and five other surveyors) to practice in the province. He was henceforth called a “Provincial Land Surveyors of the Province of British Columbia”. He received a numbered commission and a seal and, when the time came to fill out his form for the 1901 Census of Canada, he proudly appended the initials “PLS” after his name. At that time, he was lodging in Victoria, the capital city of British Columbia.

He was back in Dublin by February 1903, when he again attended the first State Ball of the Season, now hosted by the Earl and Countess of Dudley.[8] He was back at the castle for both the second State Ball and the St Patrick’s Ball the following month.

In December 1904, his presence was noted at a buffet supper hosted by the Victoria Ladies Hockey Club.[9]

In May 1905, Eddie Colley, PLS, was one of 500 people who attended a party for Sir Henri Joly de Lotbinière (1829-1908), the outgoing Governor of British Columbia. [10] Shortly after this farewell, Eddie was commissioned by the Provincial Government of British Columbia to survey four lots along the north shore of the 110 km (68miles) long François Lake for new settlers in the area. [11] He and his crew set off with their pack train to the remote Yukon, taking the Bella Coola trail out to Ootsa Lake, just south of François Lake. [12] This is such a remote part of the world that, as Marvel Universe enthusiasts will know, Bruce Banner decided to lie low here after his battle with Emil Blonsky’s Abomination in ‘Hulk.’

 

 

As the Victoria Daily Times later observed:

‘He was employed by the provincial government in the survey of the Bella Coola and Ootsa lake district and during the last few years has opened up many thousand acres of country in the interior of British Columbia … Every year he took a government survey party into the interior going in In May and returning to Victoria towards the end of the year. It had been Mr. Colley’s custom to go to Ireland during the winter of every year and he was on his way back to Victoria to take out a survey party next month for the provincial government into the region beyond the Ootsa Lake country, When In Victoria he made his home at the Balmoral hotel and was well known here having made a large circle of friends during his stay in Victoria.’ [13]

Eddie would repeat this journey every summer until 1911, going up the coast to Bella Coola, and then by pack train to the Ootsa and François Lake country, completing a few surveys along the way for the government, as well as for private parties. He had enough work to go on a surveying adventure for five months, then return to attend to his office work in a few months, and then have his winter free to zip home to Ireland. Indeed, his single survey practice enabled him to go back to Ireland every winter, which he did every year until his premature death.

As Jay Sherwood writes, ‘From 1905 to 1911 his surveying followed a largely similar pattern. He would leave Victoria in late spring, take the ship to Bella Coola, get his pack train (there is a set of three postcards of Colley’s packtrain in 1908, with one of these included in the biography of Colley in the PLS book) and head for the Ootsa / Francois country. Usually there were a few surveys along the route; some government surveys to do; and any other surveys that Colley could find, like homesteaders who needed their pre-emption surveyed, or people, like the Forbes’ whom he must have persuaded to purchase land in the area and have Colley survey a lot for them. Colley was not the only surveyor to work in this area, but he was the main one.’

Among those they encountered in 1905 was Harry Morgan, the first settler to stake out a homestead at Ootsa Lake. [14] They also presumably met, saw or narrowly avoided a miscellany of moose, black and grizzly bear, mountain goat, wolf and upland birds as they went. The adventure had finished by July 1905 because that month he sailed home for a holiday on board the Umbria, disembarking at Queenstown (Cobh) in County Cork on 16 July 1905.

He returned to Canada on the Campania in March 1906 and was back out in the Yukon that summer. At about this time he opened a successful mining brokerage firm in Vancouver, speculating in mining stocks. In 1907, he was recorded as one of four tenants of the Hamley Building at 1001-1005 Government Street, Victoria. Constructed in 1885, the building was named after its original owner, Wymond Hamley, a past Collector of Customs for British Columbia, and was constructed on the site of the old Fort Victoria Garden. Eddie’s fellow tenants were another surveyor A. W. Harper, the jeweller J. M. Whitney, and the Dominion Express. The Hamley Building features in a film reel from 1907 made by William H. Harbeck who was hired by the Canadian Pacific Railway to ‘put Western Canada on the motion picture screen’. Astonishingly, Harbeck was also fated to die on the Titanic.

Eddie’s business interests were on both sides of the Atlantic and he frequently travelled between Europe and Vancouver, generally sailing into New York on one of the big liners and then making his way overland to Washington State, before heading north to cross the Canadian border. His niece Esmé Colley recalled that he ‘seemed to have interests in India’, although she was unsure what they were. As Laetitia Lefroy observed, ‘like a lot of them, he probably went to India at some stage in early life.’

He returned to the Ootsa Lake District in the summer of 1907 to oversee the first of several government surveys in North-Central B.C. This was at Ootsa Lake, for which he was paid $5418. His assistant in 1907 was Alexander Gillespie, BCLS, who later wrote a book entitled ‘Journey through Life’, which included a chapter about his season working with Eddie Colley. [15] He wrote: ‘Colley was a very good chap to work for – very generous. He was Irish and nearly every year after coming out from, his survey work, he would take a trip home to Ireland’. As well as highlighting his popularity, Gillespie’s memoir shows that Eddie had a soft-spot for marmalade, and that he was perhaps not the most efficient organiser! (See Appendix 1).

Another of Eddie’s surveying partners during this period was Arthur Weldon Harvey (1878–1905). Born in 1878 in Falmouth, Cornwall, England, Arthur was educated at Dover College where his father, Colonel Charles Smith Harvey, was in command at the castle for a period. Arthur also had strong connections through his uncle, Sir Henry Weldon, who was a Pursuivant at Arms to Queen Victoria, Edward VII and George V. Like Eddie, he moved to Victoria in about 1898, taking his commission as British Columbia Land Surveyor in 1905. Arthur carried out many surveys for the Provincial government in the vicinity of Atlin, the Skeena, Bulkley Valley, the Ootsa and Francois Lake districts, the Peace River district, and many other parts of the province. A keen mathematician and acclaimed British bridge player, he also had a reputation for considerable physical endurance. [16]

Eddie seems to have voyaged to Europe again for the winter of 1907-1908 and was clocked on board the Lucania in April 1908. The following August, the Daily Colonist reported that he ‘he had not been heard from’ for some time. Nonetheless, the newspaper assured its readers that this was ‘not a matter for comment’ as he was ‘working in remote districts with which there is practically no communication’. [17] He was also surveying part of the Bella Coola town site that summer. On 8 November 1908, the same newspaper published the following story:

 

THE OOTSA LAKE IS PROMISING DISTRICT

E. P. Colley Tells How Country Tributary to Bella Coola Goes Ahead

The Ootsa Lake district, lying between Ootsa lake and Francis [Francois] lake, not far to the southward of the proposed route of the Grand Trunk Pacific, is one of the promising new sections of northern British Columbia, according to E. P. Colley, P. L. S. Mr. Colley ought to know for he has been in that country for four seasons in charge of provincial government survey parties.

Mr. Colley has just come in for the winter and speaking of the Ootsa lake district yesterday he said:

“There is plenty of good land in that section, though it is not as well known yet as other parts on account of its remoteness from transportation. There is a little fir along the banks of Francis lake, but it cannot be called a timber country. Generally speaking it is partly open and partly, covered with patches of poplar. These are seldom more than 9 inches in diameter, so the ground is easy to clear. Comparatively little agriculture has been accomplished as yet. For one thing there is at present no market for the produce, and in the second place with existing transportation facilities it takes the settlers pretty nearly all summer to get in their supplies. The best way to get stuff in is by Bella Coola and the freight’ rate is 10 cents a pound.”

“I don’t think wheat growing has been tried yet, that is of the ordinary kinds, but Russian wheat, barley, rye and the hardy cereals generally do exceedingly well.”

“There are from 35 to 40 settlers in the country, about two-thirds of whom are permanent and winter on their places. At present they make a little money by wintering horses, feeding them on hay they grow on their places. In this way some of them are doing pretty well.”

The Costa country is reached by trail from Bella Coola, a distance of 225 miles, and a large portion of this is over an Indian trail which is the reverse of good and requires rebuilding. The people up there are hoping that the government will come to their assistance in this respect. The people of Bella Coola, however, are doing what they can to improve the route, and it is much easier to get in to the country than it was. For the first four days’ journey from Bella Coola there are road houses where sustenance for man and beast can be obtained. Also they have established a ferry at Canoe Crossing, which is of great assistance.

Mr. Colley and his party made a record trip out, coming, down to Bella Coola in 10 days. They reached Vancouver in 17 days from the day the left.’

 

Public Accounts records show that for the 1908-09 fiscal year Eddie Colley received $5000 from the BC government for surveys in the Bella Coola district, along with $75 for surveys related to the site of Bella Coola town. He also received $3,400 for surveys in the Ootsa Lake area. The next year he received $11,248.75 for surveys in the Ootsa district. Although he made a few surveys along Francois Lake, most of the work was still around Ootsa Lake.

Eddie was back in Ireland by January 1909 when he stood as best man when his brother George Colley married Edie Finlay of Corkagh House, Clondalkin, County Dublin. That summer he began surveying lots along the northeast shore of Francois Lake. [18] In addition to the lots that he surveyed, Eddie made a traverse survey along the lake that connected these lots, as per Eddie Colley’s map of November 1909.[19]  He was accompanied by Frank Forbes, a former ship officer of Scottish origin, and his stepbrother Duncan Stewart Forbes, a master mariner. Since they were not pre-empting the land, the Forbes brothers had to pay for it. Frank paid in a couple of years and received title but Duncan did not follow through, so the BC government is listed as the owner in Colley’s notes. Frank would accompany Eddie on his expedition in 1911. He lived and worked in the Seattle area for many years. His wife died in 1925. Then, in the mid-1930s, during the Depression, Frank decided to leave Seattle and go live on the property that he owned at Francois Lake where he remained until his death in 1955.

By 15 December 1909, Eddie had returned to Vancouver where he stood as best man once again, this time at the marriage of his surveying comrade Arthur Harvey of Victoria to Gertrude Hickey, daughter of Mr and Mrs P. Hickey of Victoria. They rounded out the occasion with a luncheon in the Vancouver Hotel. [20]

During his 1910 expedition to Ootsa, Eddie ran into fellow BCLS surveyor Frank Swannell in the field. In late September, Swannell noted that they passed Colley’s surveying outfit which was working on Ootsa Lake. On 10 October, Swannell was back at Ootsa Lake where he again ‘met Colley’s outfit heading for Bella Coola and get [sic] 25lbs flour and some rice and prunes.’ For his work in 1910-11, Eddie received $10,225.55 for surveys around Francois Lake and $3,612.10 for work around Ootsa. This was his main year of surveying around Francois Lake. For his final year, 1911-12 fiscal year, he received $8,712.15 for surveys in the Ootsa area and $1,286.62 in the Francois Lake area.

Eddie sailed for Ireland again. On 2 April 1911, the night of the Census of Ireland, he was recorded in Dublin as a guest of his brother George and his wife Edie at their home Faunagh, on Orwell Road in Rathgar. Edie maintained that Eddie’s slightly crooked, lop-sided face – visible in early photos – made him particularly memorable but, to the children of his brothers and sisters, he was always considered a man of mystery.

Eddie’s niece Elizabeth Bowen likewise recalled ‘beloved’ Eddie as ‘my favourite uncle because he was the funniest, and when the Titanic news came I could only remember him balancing the brim of his bowler hat on the tip of his crooked nose with the upward expression of a performing seal’.

A week after the census of April 1911, he sailed on board the Lusitania from Queenstown to New York. That summer he returned to Ootsa Lake, surveying lots around the junction of the Tahtsa and White Sail Rivers to the south. He also formed a partnership with A. W. Harvey and it is probable that he worked for the Grand Trunk Pacific railway at this time.

In December 2016, a BC land surveyor by name of Jay Sherwood sent me a blueprint summary map showing the surveys that Colley made on the north side of François Lake between the present ferry landing and the outlet of François at the Stellako River between 1909 and 1911. Colley made and signed this map in December 1911; it was the last one that he did as he left for Ireland shortly afterwards. Jay also sent an image of the cover page and sketch map from one of Colley’s surveys along François Lake. On this journey Eddie was accompanied by Frank Forbes.

 

*****

 

The Titanic – A Night to Remember

 

Eddie was back in Ireland again by Christmas 1911 but the following four months were to be both mournful and fatal for him.

It began in February 1912 when, following the death of his sister Constance Colley, he went to England to look after her affairs. On 3 April 1912, he visited his sister Florence Bowen and her daughter Elizabeth at Clyne House in Hythe. [21]

Five nights later, he caught a performance of George Bernard Shaw’s play ‘Man and Superman’ at the Criterion Theatre in London’s West End on Easter Monday, 8 April.

It was now time for him to return to Vancouver where he had apparently been hired to work as a consultant for the prominent British Columbia industrialist, railway and mining magnate James Dunsmuir (1851-1920). As such, the day after the Shaw play, Eddie headed to Southampton where he boarded a White Star ocean liner that was about to embark on its maiden voyage to New York City.

The ship was the unsinkable Titanic. Astonished by its size, Eddie’s first reaction was to pen letters to his cousin Norah Morris (née Webber), who he apparently befriended in India, and his sister-in-law Edie Colley. Both letters were posted when Titanic called into Queenstown (Cobh), County Cork, Ireland.

To Edie, he wrote:

“This is a huge ship. Unless lots of people get on at Cherbourg and Queenstown they’ll never half fill it. The dining room is low ceilinged but full of little tables for two, three and more in secluded corners. How I wish someone I liked was on board but then nice people don’t sit at tables for two unless they’re engaged or married. I wonder my blue blood didn’t tell me that? … They also have a restaurant where you can pay for meals if you get bored with the ordinary grub.
Our most distinguished passengers seem to be (English journalist) WT Stead, WW Astor (an error, intending JJ Astor, then reputedly the richest man in the world), Charles M Hays (Canadian railway magnate) and EP Colley (himself) ... Oh and the Countess of Something [aka Noelle Martha Leslie, the Countess of Rothes], but her blood is only black-blue. (Give me good red corpuscles, I seem to know more about them. And they circulate faster.) …
We nearly had a collision to start with coming out of Southampton. We passed close to a ship that was tied up alongside the Oceanic and the suction of our ship drew her out into the stream and snapped the ropes that held her and round she swung across our bows! She had no steam up so had to be pulled back by tugs and we had to reverse. The name of her was the New York in case you see it in the papers. It proves conclusively the case of the Hawke and Olympic…”

 

*****

 

Eddie was given cabin E-58 on E-Deck. This was not one of the main first class cabins but was what the White Star line called a “Second Class/Alternate First Class” cabin, meaning it was primarily furnished for second class but could also be used as first class in times of high demand. Eddie’s cabin was on the internal side of the corridor, so he did not have a porthole.

Nobody seems to have occupied cabins E-57 or E-59 on either side of him. The artist Francis Davis Millet (see below) was in E-38, down the corridor.

Eddie was two cabins down from Henry Forbes Julian (1861–1912) in E-60. The Cork-born engineer and metallurgist was well-known in South Africa, where he explored the Barotse country and co-authored the technical book “Cyaniding Gold and Silver Ores”.  In a latter to his sister-in-law, Mr Julian claimed he wasn’t excited about the impending trip, despite his first class ticket. ‘I do not care at all for palm-court and gymnasium and such extra attractions … I shall keep to the smoking-room and library, and only just look over the vessel before starting.’ Mr Julian also managed to post a letter to his wife while Titanic was in Ireland. He described E-60 as ‘more like a small bedroom than a ship’s cabin,’ conceding that the ship was a cut above. The Parisian Cafe and gymnasium were ‘full of the most wonderful machines.’

Did Eddie and Mr Julian discuss their common interest in engineering? Did the name Forbes trigger some banter? Or did Eddie confess to being a nephew of Sir George Colley, who led his men to inglorious defeat in Majuba Hill in South Africa three decades earlier? (I doubt it; even when I was a child, we were urged to avoid mentioning ‘Majuba’.) Mr Julian was, after all, in South Africa at the time of the battle. Eddie’s motor-loving brother George would assuredly have been keen to meet Mr Julian, a founder of the Royal Automobile Club.

On that note, one wonders if Eddie ever came across Charles Lightoller, the ship’s hardy second officer. He had gone to the Yukon in 1898 to prospect for gold in the Klondike Gold Rush and subsequently became a cowboy in Alberta, Canada.

Eddie’s cabin door was almost directly opposite the entrance to the “Ash Place”, the room where ash from the ship’s boilers was temporarily stored. The ash was shoveled into canvas bags in the boiler rooms and then mechanically hoisted up through shafts to the Ash Place for later disposal. This area contained ash barrels and the ash hoist system that transported the ash from the stokeholes (boiler rooms) to this storage room above. I do not know if Eddie would have been aware of all this ash activity so close to his cabin.

To get to his room, Eddie either descended the Grand Staircase or took one of the three electric elevators running between A and E decks. The Grand Staircase actually narrowed as it reached E-Deck, as its grand sweeping curve vanished, but it maintained the same oak and wrought iron style. Once on the level, he would have ambled down the single, relatively plain corridor that ran along the starboard side.

During the voyage, Eddie was one of six men who formed a circle around the 53-year-old American socialite, feminist and interior designer Helen Churchill Candee.

The group became known as “Our Coterie” and included three New Yorkers – Colonel Archibald Gracie, society playboy James Clinch Smith from Long Island, and architect Edward Kent – as well as Bjornstrom Steffanson, a Swedish military officer and Hugh Woolner, a British businessman.

Others on the periphery included Major Archibald Butt, a close advisor and  sharp dressing friend of US President William Taft, and the aforementioned painter Francis Davis Millet. Archie Butt and Francis Millet were very close friends who lived together. They were returning from a spring tour of Italy.

In ‘Sealed Orders’, a memoir penned for Collier’s Weekly just days after her harrowing escape, Miss Candee described Eddie’s arrival into the group as follows:

“‘Hey! Colley!’ shouted Kent to a roly-poly young man who responded. ‘Come join this band of brothers. Colley is a cousin of Old King Cole, a jolly old soul.’
Colley looked happy as a grig [grasshopper? – ed.], although his words were few.” [23]

And later on,

‘I was joined by Colley, the gay little Irishman who rarely spoke but by some magic spread warmth and jollity, without chatter.” [24]

Eddie’s last supper was in the À la Carte Restaurant, known as the “Ritz,” on B-Deck where he joined Miss Candee and her coterie. By some accounts he had previously attended a concert by the ship’s quintet band in the first-class reception area on D-Deck. Perhaps he knew some of the band; the musicians stayed in cramped quarters on E-Deck, not too far from his own cabin.

At the Ritz that night, the tables were set with fresh flowers, bone china, and sterling silver. The menu offered dishes such as oysters, Consommé Olga, poached salmon with Mousseline sauce, filet mignon Lili, sauté of chicken Lyonnaise, lamb with mint sauce, roast duckling with apple sauce, sirloin of beef, as well as Waldorf pudding, peaches in Chartreuse jelly, chocolate and vanilla éclairs, and French ice cream. I sincerely hope Eddie had a little bit of everything.

Captain Smith, the captain of Titanic, was guest of honour at a nearby table, hosted by George Dunton Widener, a wealthy Philadelphia streetcar magnate, and his wife  Eleanor Elkins Widener. Also seated at that table were the Widener’s 27-year-old son Harry, a bibliophile and Harvard graduate; Major Archibald Butt; Mr. and Mrs. John B. Thayer; Mr. and Mrs. George Quincy Clifford, William and Lucile Carter and possibly the celebrated Molly Brown, whose home in Denver I chanced to visit in November 2025.

The combination of so much ice in the area and the cold North Atlantic air created exceptionally cold conditions. These clearly impacted Eddie who ordered hot toddies, as in a warm drink made with hot water, whiskey, honey, and lemon juice.

During dinner, Miss Candee recalled:

“A hot toddy made us happy and jolly to an unusual degree, and Colley called merrily, ‘set ’em again? Yes? That is just the right answer to my remark. Here, Steward.” In the near distance I saw a little commotion on the Captain’s table, everyone standing. Gracious but firm, Mrs. Widener was saying goodnight.” [25]

Perhaps in tandem with his hostess, Captain Smith left the Ritz at about 9:00 pm, returning to the bridge. Charles Lightoller, the Yukon veteran, commanded the last bridge watch prior to the collision with the iceberg,

Meanwhile, his belly warm with whiskey, Eddie appears to have retired to his cabin just after 11pm. That is the last account we have of him. One wonders if he had time to change out of three piece suit he was probably wearing. Perhaps he had only just undone his bow tie when the fatal blow occurred. Or maybe he was already lying down in his finest pyjamas, preparing for a nice peaceful sleep.

At 11:40pm the ship struck a glancing blow on the fateful iceberg along its forward starboard side, directly below Eddie’s cabin on E-Deck. He may well have heard the collision although the noise of steam venting from the nearby boilers may have been rather loud. Certainly some of his fellow passengers on E-Deck described a ‘long faint grinding sensation’ that lasted about 10 seconds, as if someone was pulling a chain against the side of the ship.

The American businessman George A. Harder, on honeymoon with his wife Dorothy, was in E-50 when they heard a dull thump followed by a quivering of the ship and a scraping noise along the side. Mr. Harder saw a wall of ice glide past their porthole. When James B. McGough opened his porthole, chunks of ice fell into his cabin. Emma Bucknell, just above Eddie on D-Deck could see the iceberg pass by her window and noticed ice on the decks and corridors. The collision caused several leaks below the waterline – rivets popped and hull plates were punctured in a series of small cuts that extended along about 300 feet of the hull. Water duly began to flood into multiple compartments at once.

Within 10 minutes, Captain Smith has ordered the wireless operators to send out distress signals (both CQD and SOS), calling for assistance from nearby ships. At 11:55pm, the crew also began preparing lifeboats. At midnight, just as Eddie’s 37th birthday began, first class passengers were asked to make their way to the boat deck with their life jackets, and the band began to play. The first lifeboat, No. 7, was lowered from the starboard side at 12:05.

By 12:15am, the Turkish Baths, post office and squash court on the deck below Eddie’s cabin were flooding fast. Captain Smith had issued the order to evacuate the ship. Was Eddie still in his cabin at this time? Had he put on his lifebelt?  By 12:20am, the icy water had reached the base of the Grand Staircase at E-Deck. Within minutes, the flood waters were coming into E-Deck itself.  Did Eddie now perhaps confront the horror of water suddenly and forcefully pouring into his cabin? The flooding of E-Deck was especially quick as water entered the ship’s forward compartments and rose above bulkhead. E-Deck was entirely underwater by approximately 1:20 AM.

The ship sank at approximately 2:20 AM ship’s time on 15 April 1912, two hours and forty minutes after the collision.

Eddie was initially reported to have been amongst those rescued. However, by 27 April, the Folkestone, Hythe, Sandgate & Cheriton Herald (p. 5) was conceding that this information was erroneous and ‘it is now believed that he was not saved. ‘ He was one of over 1500 passengers and crew to perish. His body, if recovered, was never identified.

As the ship was sinking, Helen Churchill Candee was helped into Lifeboat No 6 by Edward Kent, Eddie’s friend. With no pockets in her coat, she entrusted Kent with her silver hip flask. She fractured her ankle jumping into a lifeboat but survived. Edward Kent’s body was later recovered by the crew of the cable laying ship CS Mackay Bennett. The flask survived.

Archie Butt and Francis Millet were separated during the sinking. Francis was last seen helping women and children into lifeboats and reportedly gave his own life preserver to a woman. His body was recovered by the cable ship Mackay Bennett and was returned to Boston for cremation. Archie’s body was not found. Butt Bridge, Augusta, Georgia, is named in Archie’s honour.

Gone too was James Clinch Smith who was last seen helping his friend Colonel Archibald Gracie load women, children, and babies into lifeboats. The two men attempted to launch a collapsible boat but were blocked by a crowd of passengers. As the waters rose, Clinch Smith tried to reach the bridge deck but he was engulfed by the water. His body was never recovered. His wife Bertha died less than two years later, having never recovered from his loss.

The alcohol may have helped keep Eddie warm for a moment or two but he cannot have lasted long once the water arrived. One could generally only survive in the freezing water for 10 to 20 minutes maximum. If submerged, you would almost certainly die. And this most of them simply froze to death beneath that star-spangled sky.

A rare exception was Charles Lightoller, the Yukon veteran. Having attempted to launch collapsible lifeboat “B”, he was swept overboard and sucked beneath the waves. Somehow, he made his back up again and clambered onto a lifeboat, of which he promptly took command. He survived to sail his own yacht out as one of the “little ships” during the Dunkirk evacuation.

As the ship sank, Archie Grace jumped into the water and managed to climb onto the same lifeboat “B”, which had now overturned. He survived the night in freezing conditions but suffered severe physical effects from hypothermia and complications related to diabetes after the disaster. He died less than eight months later. His last words reportedly were, “We must get them into the boats. We must get them all into the boats.” His detailed account of the disaster was published posthumously as The Truth about the Titanic (also known as Titanic: A Survivor’s Story). A letter he wrote on 10 April 1912, the day he boarded in Southampton, sold for a record-breaking £300,000 ($400,000) at auction in the UK in 2025.

Henry Forbes Julian, the engineer from South Africa whose room was so close to Eddie, also ended his life with courage and selflessness. He was last seen among a group of first-class male passengers helping women and children board lifeboats, refusing to take a place for themselves. His body was never recovered.

Mrs Widener survived the sinking after she and her maid were helped into Lifeboat 4 by her husband and son, both of whom perished.

William H. Harbeck, who once filmed Eddie’s Victoria office in the Hamley Building, did not survive. When his body was recovered eight days later by the CS Mackay-Bennett, he was wearing a life vest and clutching a woman’s purse. This was later identified as belonging to Henriette Yvois, a French model who accompanied him on the voyage and also perished. His body was identified by his membership card in the Moving Picture and Projecting Machine Operators Union.

In fact, there were about 12 passengers who were ultimately bound for British Columbia, of whom only Hilda Slayter survived. Among the others was Robert Norman, an electrical engineer from Glasgow, and Charles Melville Hays, president of the Grand Trunk Railway, who is considered the founder of Prince Rupert. Neither man survived. Given Eddie’s upcoming work on the railways, there is room for speculation as to whether he and Mr Hayes were travelling in the same entourage or whether it was pure coincidence that they were on the same boat.

The dark starry night thoroughly confused the survivors clinging to the lifeboats who became convinced time and time again that the twinkling was from were ships coming to their rescue. In fact, the Carpathia did not get there till 4:17 am. Titanic’s distress signal had actually given the wrong location, and that was where Carpathia was heading when she accidentally stumbled upon Titanic’s lifeboats. Indeed, that may be the one piece of good luck in the entire sorry affair. Joseph Boxhall, the ship’s fourth officer, had wisely hurled some green flares into his lifeboat. When Carpathia came into view, he lit them up, and so drew the Cunard steamship towards them. The journey for the survivors was by no means over – several succumbed to hypothermia and other complications on the long, foggy voyage to New York.

One of the saddest outcomes was for the children of Northam School, near the Southampton docks, where approximately 120 out of 250 pupils lost their father when Titanic sank. Over 500 men from the Southampton area perished in the sinking.

 

*****

 

Eddie Colley never married but it is believed he had a romance in Victoria of which he feared his family would disapprove. Apparently several women wrote to his family after his demise claiming to have been either his girlfriend or fiancée. As next of kin, his oldest brother George Colley was in charge of sorting out his affairs although it is thought he did not leave a will and there was surprisingly little left in his estate.

The letter he wrote from Titanic to Edie Colley was inherited by her daughters who sold it some years ago. His letter to Norah Morris reached her home in India on 26th April and ultimately came into the possession of his niece, Esmé Colley, daughter of the Rev. Wingfield Colley. When Esmé died in 2006, Finlay Colley and Christopher Hone, her cousins and residual legatees of her estate, inherited the letter, which they generously offered on long-term loan to the Titanic Exhibition at the Heritage Centre in Cobh. The letter is now prominently displayed along with some background information on Eddie and the Colley family.

On 25 May 1912, the Tipperary Star reported that Eddie’s brother Ger (aka Major Gerald Henry Pomeroy Colley) was ‘… about to proceed to British Columbia to look after the estates of … Edward Pomeroy Colley who was one of the heroes who sacrificed his life for others in the terrible Titanic disaster … When the sad news that [Eddie] had paid the penalty of his heroism with the foundering of the monster liner was made known, all creeds and classes in Tipperary and the surrounding district tendered their sympathetic condolences to a popular gentleman in a most trying time.”

Ger set off across the Atlantic aboard the White Star liner Adriatic, departing from Liverpool on 5 July 1912. His heart must have been palpitating as the ship passed dangerously close to an iceberg two days before it reached New York. [26]

His surveying work in Canada was taken up by Vilhelm Schjelderup, BCLS. [27] Like Eddie, he came in through Bella Coola, although this was the last year for that route as the Grand Trunk Pacific was being constructed through the Grand Trunk area. Schjelderup, who has a photo album online from his surveying in 1913, set up a survey practice at Burns Lake and remained there until the early 1930s.

Eddie Colley is recalled by three memorials at the parish churches in Clondalkin, County Dublin, Hythe, Kent and St John’s Church, Harpenden, Hertfordshire, where his brother Winkie was then curate. As the Luton Times and Advertiser reported of the Harpenden memorial on 22 November 1912, the Rector of Harpenden ‘solemnly dedicated … three new oak doors leading to the vestry and a brass tablet’, inscribed:

‘To the glory of God and in loving memory of Edward Pomeroy Colley, born 15th April 1875, entered into the life beyond, 16th April 1912 through the sinking of the steamship ‘Titanic.’ These doors were given by his three brothers. ‘So he bringeth them unto the haven where they would be.’ The doors are partly carved, the workmanship being that of Mr. W. Freeman, organist of the church.’

 

 

See also: Titanic – The Irish Connections

 

 

 

Appendix 1: Alexander Gillespie’s Memoir of the Bella Coola Trail with Eddie Colley.

 

‘Journey Through Life Biography of Alexander Gillespie (1890-1948)’, p. 48-53.

 

‘Well, I said goodbye to Nellie at the beginning of May and we left for Bella Coola. There were about 12 of us in the party, which was to divide into two parties when we got into the Interior. We were to travel by pack horses on the old Palmer Trail of the Bella Coola valley – the old trail that Sir Alexander Mackenzie travelled when he made the first overland trip across Canada to the Pacific in 1792. The reason this was called the Palmer Trail was that after the Waddington massacre, when a party of Indians fell upon Waddington’s survey party and wiped them nearly all out, Palmer was sent to try and bring some of them to justice.

We were delayed for about two weeks in Bella Coola and I made my first survey, a cannery sight [sic], a few miles down the Inlet and Colley also did some survey work.

Our delay was caused by the fact that the pack horses could not as yet get sufficient feed along the trail and, as the only food they could get was what they could pick up during the night when they were turned loose after the day’s work, they had to rustle pretty hard to get a “belly full” to put it in polite cowboy language, and when the feed is scarce, they wander far before morning, and time is lost rounding them up.

The 24th of May was a great day in Bella Coola in those days, and the Indians from all the nearby villages congregated there for the celebrations, the squaws wearing their brightest colours, and the young bucks and settlers in their best bib and tucker. Sports of various sorts where the chief events, and were very well organized, I remember, by a chap called Southerland, who was at that time one of the moving spirits in Bella Coola, and was the owner of the pack horses that Colley hired for the summer.

One of the sporting events that day was the hundred yard dash, in which the contestants carried the colours of some fair lady. Southerland came to me and said, “I want you to run for the prettiest girl in the Valley.” This sounded interesting, so I said I would, and was taken over and introduced to an extremely pretty little Norwegian girl and I could well believe that Southerland had not exaggerated. I made up my mind to win.

I took off my boots, and with motley strong lined up at the starting point, at the crack of the pistol I was off. The field was rather rough, but to my surprise, I stumbled across the line a winner. The prize was a plated cake stand, which, midst much cheering, I duly presented to the little girl. The win was evidently popular, except to a strapping young Norwegian, who became rather aggressive and insisted he could beat me, if I would race again. However, I laughed it off and told him once was enough.

Immediately after the 24th of May celebrations, we loaded up the packhorses, and started up the valley. There was a good road up to the head of the valley and the scenery was very pretty, with some very nice farms interspersed, with some beautiful stands of timber, some of the trees being magnificent. There is, or rather was, a large Norwegian settlement in Bella Coola Valley at that time, and some of the log houses constructed by then were works of art.

There was quite a gathering to see us start, and all along the trail, whenever we passed a house where there were children, when they heard the tinkle of the pack horses’ bells, they would rush out to see us pass. It was always quite an event in the Valley, the arrival of Colley and the departure of his pack train. He was very popular, one reason being that he always bought all his supplies at Brynjolfson’s big store in the Valley.

As we approached the head of the valley, the road gradually developed into a trail, which soon was zigzagging steeply up the end of the valley. It was a long hard climb for the packhorses, which were all loaded to capacity, as they were carrying not only our food and supplies, but blankets, tents and survey instruments. All the party had to walk and, as we climbed out of the valley, we found that holding onto the horse’s tail was of great assistance.

At the summit, we were probably at an elevation of 4000 feet. The view was magnificent, as snow-capped peaks, wooded ridges and deep valleys were stretched out before us. The big trees had given place to scrubby jack pines – we were now on the Interior Plateau. The trail passed by Anaham Lake, where there was a fairly large Indian village, crossed what is now Tweedsmuir Park and finally came out, after crossing large rivers, two of which we had to swim the horses, at the foot of Ootsa Lake.

Here again we had to swim the horses; after this crossing was to begin in earnest. It had taken us nearly a month to get in, but we had made one or two small surveys on the way. A good deal of time was lost getting the packhorses in the morning, two of the men having this special job, they had always to be up as soon as it was daylight.

It had been very pleasant coming in, tramping along all day behind the old packhorses. The weather was fairly good and there was a wonderful smell of Balm of Gilead and Pines and spring was in the air. No flies had yet put in an appearance.

But no sooner had we crossed Ootsa Lake than they descended on us – the small black fly and mosquitoes were to be a curse to us all summer, as we had no protection, not a veil, or any dope to keep them off. The only thing we had was a piece of bacon rind, which we carried on a string round our necks, and every half hour or so, we would rub it over our faces, hands and arms. It was not a pleasant way to keep them off but it gave us some relief. At night we built smudges (smoke fires) in our tents when we went to bed, and in an atmosphere so thick that one could hardly breathe, and the tent hermetically sealed, we would get to sleep.

This was 1907. Only one settler had taken up land between Ootsa Lake and François Lake, one Tommy Morgan, and he was a [?]uaw man. North of François Lake, the Grand Trunk Pacific Railway, now the Canadian National, was being graded.

Land stakers were travelling through the country, staking land for speculators, a few promoters were staking land, and some would-be settlers were coming in and staking land to buy. It was to survey in these lands that we had come.

Most of the land stakers had come in by Hazleton and Fort Frazer. The lands had mostly been staked the year before, and notice published in the B.C. Gazette and described in this manner: “I, so and so, apply to purchase the following described lands, commencing at a stake planted on the South side of François Lake, about 5 miles westerly from the East end of the lake, at the mouth of a small creek, thence South 80 chains, thence East 80 chains, thence North 80 chains, more or less, to the South shore of François Lake, thence 80 chains more or less to the point of commencement.’

Our job was to find that stake, or the approximate position, and then take an observation on the North Star and proceed to run the lines, making careful notes of the sort of country the line followed and classifying the land as First or Second Class land. The price the purchaser would pay would be on this classification, either $5.00 per acre if First Class, or $2.50 for Second Class. Where possible, these surveys were tied in to previous work, so that the country could be mapped with a certain degree of accuracy, but the result of these scattered surveys was rather a patchwork quilt pattern.

I did not like this rather pottering survey work in comparison to our Triangulation and Topophotographic work in Alaska.* The grub was very poor, as no luxuries could be carried on the packhorses. Colley had a weakness for marmalade, so that was about our only luxury. Rice, beans, bacon, flour, tea, prunes and marmalade, were what we lived on all summer. The cooking was done on the camp fire and bread made in a frying pan. Even these necessities ran low before we were through and rice, and bacon were about all we had at the end.

I have never been in a country with less game, but the lakes were full of fish. We never caught many, except on one occasion, when we came to a stream almost choked with trout – some sort of migration was taking place from one lake to another. It must be a usual occurrence, as the Indians came to catch them there, judging by the wickerwork traps lying about, some very old.

We put a potato sack propped open with a willow bend around the opening, one of us stood on each side, holding the sack, the others beat the pool with long switches and driving the trout thus into the sack. When we thought enough were in, we lifted it out and dumped them on the bank. We got more than we could eat.

Another time when we got some good fish, was when I was surveying an Indian Reserve. An old Indian man arrived from somewhere, and was rather inclined to be haughty. However, I gave him a plug of tobacco and from then on he was my friend. Every day we were there, early in the morning, he would bring us a huge trout or white fish. These we used to bake in a Dutch oven, or reflector, and very good they were. One day we had a Lynx to eat, and found it quite good – rather like chicken.

What help to put my party on short commons was the fact that, one day it was a wet, miserable sort of day, with the mosquito very bad and we arrived back late in the evening at our camp to find the place almost completely wrecked. The supply tent was down and lying in the middle of the desolation, was an old pack horse on his back, his legs pointing to Heaven and his tummy blown out like a balloon. The bean sack was nearly empty and beans and rice were scattered everywhere. The old brute was bloated, and the only thing was to beat him unmercifully, till he got on his legs. Then we had to chase him round the place, thumping him for nearly an hour. Needless to say, we did not spare him, as our tempers were none too mild, being tired, hungry and wet. However, he recovered.

About the middle of July, the mosquitoes disappeared, but the black flies stayed with us till about sometime in September. The Fall was really beautiful in that country. The ducks began to come down from the North and we saw flights of geese and wild swans. The nights were chilly and the air clear and bracing. We were all as hard as nails, having been tramping ever since Spring.

If we had had good food, the life would have been ideal. If only we could have got some fresh meat even. Why there was no game, I could never understand, as there was feed everywhere – it was a wonderful country for feed – great huge open meadows and scattered clumps of poplar and spruce. It was very pretty and parklike, with old game trails – but the deer and bear had gone.

It was about the end of October before we started for the Coast and civilization. We were travelling light – the packhorses were fat and strong. The trip out was uneventful, till we got down into Bella Coola Valley.

Then we came to Hickman’s Chalet. One of the Hickmans had been with us in charge of the packhorses. He was a wonderful packer, considering he had only one hand, and he also was a good rifle shot, as was proved by two huge Grizzly Bear skulls, which he showed us, in one of which there were two bullet holes between the eyes. Hickman told us the bear was charging him when he shot and it almost got him before it fell at his feet. It was at Hickman’s Chalet that we had our first fresh meat for months, and sat on chairs at our table. We had been looking forward to the event for days.

One day – it was a hot, still, muggy afternoon, very oppressive – as we walked behind the pack train, carrying our coats, we noticed a peculiar roaring sound in the distance, high up on the mountainous side of the valley. After a while, we could see that a terrific wind was blowing and trees were being blown down like ninepins. Presently, we noticed that it was coming down the side of the mountain and getting nearer. We whipped up the packhorses and made them trot. The wind was now getting into the big timber, which was crashing down. By this time, we were running for our lives, the horses on the gallop. We must get into the open, as the din by now was pretty terrible. Colley and I were at the tail end. I happened to look back over my shoulder and saw a huge fir was coming down between us. Colley saw it and I jumped over the bank to the river. I ran for my life and the tree crashed down behind me.

We eventually got into a clearing and held the horses, but the storm was over as quickly as it started and the temperature became very cold, and soon we were in a snowstorm. That night we slept in an old barn and next day arrived at Bella Coola. Here we got the only mail we had had. Colley had not sent down to Bella Coola for supplies, only once over to Fort Fraser.

Needless to say, I had numbers of letters from Nell, and was “flabbergasted” to find that we were to be married in December. I had somehow thought we were to be engaged two years. It was all very exciting, but I would hardly have time to brush up my old top hat and get used to wearing a collar.

It was always very exciting getting back to civilization. One of the things we found hardest was getting used to sleeping in a soft bed, as when one has been sleeping on the ground for six months, a soft bed is not comfortable. In camp, we simply rolled down our blankets on our waterproofs sheet, after removing any particularly sharp rocks. We never cut brush or made any attempts to make a softer bed and sleeping bags had not come into general use as they have today.

In Bella Coola, we had the usual wait for a boat. I was rather touched one day, when one of my men said to me – “You know if it hadn’t been that this was your first survey, we never would have stayed on the job, but we didn’t want to let you down, and we wanted to see you do well.” It was very decent of them, as it had been a hard trip, with poor food, and their pay was only $50 per month with bored, what there was of it.

We arrived in Victoria in due course and Nell was at the boat to meet me. It was nice to see and talk to her again. I think I made a feeble protest about being married so soon, but of no avail – December 11th was to be the fateful day.

I had a good deal of work to do in the way of making maps and preparing plans of my survey, before Colley finally paid me off with a good fat cheque. He told me that this was the first season that he had made some money, as usually he did not make very much out of it. This was very gratifying, as we worked very hard for him.

* Jay Sherwood adds: “In his autobiography, Gillespie states that he did not particularly like the type of surveying that Colley did, describing it as “rather pottering survey work”. This was in comparison to the project work like the Alaska Boundary survey that Gillespie did before spending the summer with Colley. However, I think this work was fine for Colley’s own purposes. He had his own single survey practice which enabled him to go back to Ireland every winter.”

 

Acknowledgments

 

With thanks to Robert Allen, BC Land Surveyor, and Jay Sherwood (https://surveyingbc.ca/).

 

End-Notes

 

[1] Belfast News-Letter, 6 May 1897, p. 6

[2] Dublin Evening Mail, 29 August 1896, p. 4.

[3] Morning Mail (Dublin), 17 February 1897, p. 2; Irish Independent, 9 February 1898, p. 6.

[4] Dublin Evening Mail, 9 March 1898, p. 4.

[5] Dublin Daily Nation, 29 April 1898, p. 2.

[6] Letter from C. H. Dickinson, 4 Dec 1899, quoted in Records of the Old Haileyburians who fought in the War in South Africa, ‘The South African War Supplement’, p. 18. Information on ‘James Rogers (1873–1961)’ by Anthony Staunton, Australian Dictionary of Biography, Volume 11, (MUP), 1988.

[7] British Columbia, Surveyor General; Plan 5T30 “Sketch Map to show position of Trail from Bella Coola to Ootsa Lake with alternative routes.” 1907. E.P. Colley, B.C.L.S. With thanks to Susan M. Hughes (American Pomeroy Historic Genealogical Association).

[8] Northern Whig – Saturday 14 February 1903, p. 8.

[9] Daily Colonist, 25 December 1904, p. 16.

[10] Daily Colonist, 14 May 1905, p. 16.

[11] This line continued in service, latterly under B.C. Telephone Co., until the early l960s.

[12] Jay Sherwood, ‘The Ootsa Lake Odyssey – George and Else Seel – a Pioneer Life on the Headwaters of the Nechako Watershed (2017).

[13] The Victoria Daily Times (British Columbia, Canada) 16 Apr 1912, p. 1.

[14] June Wood, ‘Home to the Nechako: The River and the Land’ (Heritage House Publishing Co, 2013), p. 22.

[15] A copy of Gillespie’s book is in the Library at the University of British Columbia.

[16] Historical and Biographical Committee, B.C.L.S. Proceedings, 1940. Arthur Weldon Harvey, PLS (1878–1905).

[17] The Daily Colonist (British Columbia), August 6, 1908, p. 7.

[18] If one was to follow Highway 35 south from Burns Lake to Francois Lake you would see the ferry crossing of the lake and then the road to Ootsa. This line divides Francois Lake into approximately four quadrants

[19] An extract of Eddie Colley’s map of November 1909 shows his survey of the Forbes lots at L1017 and L1018, along with the next lot he surveyed, about one mile further west along Francois Lake. The MPs are mile posts, while the numbers are intermediate stations.

[20] The Daily Colonist, British Columbia, Canada, December 17, 1909, p. 10.

[21] ‘The other bereaved resident is Mrs. Cole Bowen, (Edward’s sister Florence), of Clyne House, North Road (Hythe) whose brother, Mr. (Edward) Colley, was a passenger in the unfortunate liner. Mr. Colley did not live at Hythe but three weeks ago today (Saturday) he was on a visit to his sister at Clyne House.’ (Folkestone, Hythe, Sandgate and Cheriton Herald, 27th April 1912).

[22] He prepaid £19, 11s, 9d for first class ticket number 17387, and then had to pay a final of £6 for his contract ticket number 5727. Presumably, because of season-changing.

[23] Helen C Candee, Sealed Orders, Colliers Magazine, May 1912.

[24] Ibid.

[25] Ibid.

[26] ‘Iceberg Encountered’, Dundee Courier, 20 July 1912, p. 5.

[27] “Mr. V. Schjelderup, in Ranges 3 and 4 Coast District, continued the surveys made in this district during the past few years by the late Mr. E.P. Colley, who lost his life in the Titanic disaster.” Detail courtesy of Jay Sherwood.