|SS Minneapolis at Tilbury - May 1900|
Report in The Illustrated London News May 1900
Everything on the Minneapolis is of the best quality, but as simple as possible. The walls of the saloon are in light oak with allegorical figures burnt in the woodwork; an exquisite frieze in the same work, full of life and spirit, runs round the top. The dome in the ceiling gives ventilation and height to the room. The chairs and sofas are upholstered in red satin damask, and the whole effect of the saloon is bright and cheery, while also harmonious.
The library, or writing-room, is painted white and a little relief in gold. The bookcase is at present without any books in it, as they have been promised as a gift to the ship by the city of Minneapolis, in recognition of the vessel’s having been given the name of this great western city; but unfortunately the books did not reach New York in time to be put into the case. The coverings of the sofas and chairs are in a very beautifully designed tapestry, the whole idea of the room being to keep it quiet and restful. The smoking room is admirably adapted to the purpose for which it is intended. The decorations are in plain dark oak, and the seats upholstered in a very handsome red leather, all dinginess is thus avoided. Cozy corners are very suggestive of small parties sitting quietly together to have the friendly games which so materially assist in passing away the time.
The Minneapolis, being the most modern of steamers, has several suites situated on the promenade deck, which are as perfect as possible. The brass bedsteads are hung with fresh dimity curtains of pink roses on a white ground, the little window curtains all matching. Hanging cupboards and doors add to the convenience of the passengers. A bath-room is attached to each suite, and the private sitting room adjoining the bed room is charmingly fitted with a writing table and comfortable sofas.
American reporter Earl Mayo, wrote a satirical article for Forum Magazine in 1904 on transatlantic travel, and says of his fellow passengers: "Here we are, all met on an equal footing. For these few days we shall all be weighed, not by what we own or claim to be, but by what we really are."
I kept Mr Mayo’s adage in mind when writing Flora's Secret [Murder On The Minneapolis in the US], in that my characters found themselves among strangers where their deceits and invented 'legends' could not be exposed.
Mayo complained that where Baedeker guides place an asterisk against the names of hotels to guarantee they were first-class, the steamship companies don’t, with the result that: ‘The very best people are set down cheek-by-jowl with the nobodies.’ Mayo opines: ‘This is, naturally, very galling. It is unbearable. What is the use of being anybody if nobody knows it? Why extract a week from the delightful publicity of land-life, and sink it in the obscurity of ocean life?’
|Tea On Deck|
Mayo on gossip:: ‘Maids and valets are very useful on board, because they talk. They are funds of enticing information, especially when they belong to the exclusive people--and they generally do. The mistress says nothing, but the maid tells the truth! The master is silent, but the valet discloses all that it is necessary to know! It is shameful to listen to their stories, and there is no excuse for it. Still, one does feel more cheerful when it is positively asserted by the gentle maid that the haughty dame, with the lorgnette, who has been snubbing everybody, sells all her old clothes that won't dye, and hits her husband when she is feeling lively.’
And honeymooners: ‘If he leaves her for a minute, his love is growing cold; if she chats with an unsuspecting passenger, she is a flirt who will never settle down; if he sleeps happily in his steamer-chair by her side, he is tiring of her; if she yawns at the endlessness of the day, married life is beginning to pall; if his voice be raised as he talks to her (he may be advising her to try and eat something at luncheon) , he is developing into the usual cut-and-dried husband; if she be too indisposed to care much how she looks, she is learning how to disenchant a husband; if he doesn't call her" tootsy," he is a cold-blooded wretch; if she looks serious and gloomy, she is learning that marriage is a failure.’
A steward was summoned with one ring of an electric bell and two rings for a stewardess. Steamer chairs and rugs could be rented at a cost of four shillings for the duration of the voyage. The chair bore the occupier’s name and woe betide anyone who sat on the wrong one! The library tended to be a female domain, while the smoke room, which sported the first real fireplace on an ocean liner, was exclusively male territory.
|Dining Room on SS MInneapolis|
Life as a crew member was hard. The stewards, known as ‘Southampton Boys’ as that was where the best were trained, would earn about $15 a month with board and lodging. He had to pay for his own uniform, laundry bills, plus a sum to have his area of the communal cabin cleaned. He rose at five-thirty and was on duty until eleven pm. A senior steward could earn $150 a month, while the ship’s captain earned more than the six officers he commanded combined. Passengers were expected to adhere to a rule for tips: given at the end of the voyage, a minimum of ten shillings—two and a half dollars—to each of the bedroom steward, deck steward, saloon steward, bath steward, a dollar to the "boots," the smoke-room steward, and the organist or band, all of which went a long way to make up their derisory income.
Crews were signed on for one voyage, at the end of which they were paid off and hoped to sign on again immediately for the next. If their ship sank, even as a result of enemy action, their pay ended the moment the ship went under.
Captain Thomas F Gates commanded the SS Minneapolis on its maiden voyage. A naturalised American citizen and a sociable pipe-smoking teetotaler, he "danced two hours every night of clear weather" according to Time Magazine and was very popular with passengers. Known affectionately as "Tommy," and "Giggles Gates" — the "laughing skipper" because of his infectious laugh, his endless energy and powerful voice, was "known in ports all over the world" according to an obituary in the New York Times. It was said that when his ship docked he never needed to use a megaphone from the bridge. He served 45 years with the ATL, commanded 18 of their ships, described as "one of the most popular commanders in the merchant fleet."
As my novel came to an end, I was sad to leave the amiable Captain Gates and the restful surroundings of the opulent and comfortable SS Minneapolis. I hope my readers will feel the same way.
Sources: Atlantic Transport Line Website Gjenvick Gjonvick Archives has Earl Mayo’s full and entertaining article.