Courage Is Grace Under Pressure

April 5, 1914 morning time

It has nearly been 2 years since that horrid tragedy aboard the Titanic. Today I spoke with a reporter from the New York Times and described my experience aboard until the tears falling down my face could reach my glass. Upon this, I dismissed her and told her to call again tomorrow. Reflecting on that night, I will always be tormented by the mass bodies and screams for help that pierced the air. One cry, in particular, was that of a little boy-THE little boy. To this day, I am haunted by the ghost of him-tormented in my very soul that I could not save him. The sweetest soul ever seen in a boy here and now, though I could not save him. All of Caroline’s connections have made it impossible to so much as set foot outside this banishment of mine. The days are unbearably lonely and the only company I have is my precious Jakey. I did so want him to have a brother to run and play with- that little boy who perished beneath the bitter ice swallowing the ship. I have been unable to sleep and many nights lay awake, haunted by the terror of screams as people died nearly as instant as their bodies touched the water. I feel shame and guilt for surviving. What made me more special than every soul on board? My husbands' money? My social status? Every person should have been valued. Money means nothing to me and has only brought me unhappiness and a wealth of control through Caroline. My days are unhappy ones and I fear I soon may break. I hope soon to be free of their control, though I am not sure how this could be. I must go now, for the reporter has returned. I hope to share more of my story with her.

Signed,

Madeleine Talmage Astor

April 5, 1914 evening-post supper

I am so furious at Caroline! The reporter informed me today that her supervisor at the news station had received a visit from Caroline and her mother. Judging from the brief exchange between the two, the reporter gathered she was upset by the article. After leaving, the supervisor informed her they would not publish my story of events. He was paid off by Caroline’s mother! I am sure of it! How could she do that? What gives her the right to quash my voice and not let it be heard? Tonight I am more resolved than I’ve ever been, I must get away from this family. I feel like a prisoner, not John’s widow. For two years I heard the word and never truly felt a widow. My feelings towards my departed husband have always been and continue to be one of turmoil also. If he had just done the right thing and let me have that little boy, he would not have had to die such a tragic death, at such a tragic age. As I write this, my heart is seizing at the pain, for though it was brief I loved that little boy as if he were my own. In my heart, though wicked it may seem, I find that blame lies within my husband's actions. How can I ever forgive such a cruel act? I am weary again. I need rest. Soon, I will put my own plan together for leaving. I will find a way. I will have freedom- for me and Jakey.

Signed,

Madeleine Talmage Astor

May 18, 1914

It has been a while since I have been able to write. Caroline is finally allowing me to attend a societal gathering- lunch with some of her friends, now that a respectable amount of time has passed. I love Caroline and I know she means well. I’m certain these acts of control aren’t done with a vengeful heart, but out of how society is structured. One day I would be free of these rules. I am excited to attend and will be happy to be around others. But I hear the whispers from other ladies through my servants. Although many ladies will happily attend for the chance to be in the presence of any Astor, I doubt I am the Astor whom they would choose to be with. It is a bittersweet decision. How I long to do something courageous, daring and excitable- something to awaken their droll worlds of rules and stuffy norms. Perhaps, someone will be in attendance there who may catch my eye or even my heart. It would be wonderful to be in love again. I must discuss the menu now with Caroline and the caterers. There must be a hundred who will be helping! I will be away for now.

Signed,

Madeleine Talmage Astor