THE RICHARD HANNAY OF THE LUSITANIA. Charlie and his wife, Nora. Circa 1925. Peter and Beryl Lawrence/Lusitania Online. The sinking of the Lusitania has always been a controversial subject and we have become fully used to dealing with that for years on this website. But the centenary year unearthed something a little different, which though a little sketchy, is nonetheless so fascinating that we thought we'd share what we have and hope that someone out there may be able to help shed further light on it. Peter Lawrence contacted us about a not too distant relative of his by the name of Charlie Porter. Peter, then 81, has a degree in American History and knew Charlie as a younger man, due to Charlie being Peter's Mother's Cousin. Charlie was, by all accounts, one of those people who would calmly and confidently go about meeting people, intent on helping them if he could. Charlie wanted to care for the line's passengers so that they could cruise in luxury. The first family record of Charlie that Peter has is a postcard he sent from Aden in 1907. He was then with P & O on the SS. Victoria. taking immigrants to Australia. Charlie was simply a seafarer to the family and as far as Peter is able gauge, the family just accepted that without going into any detail as to his exact role on a ship. So when he later transferred to Cunard and the Lusitania, the family were pleased he had gained promotion but otherwise just accepted that was his new ship and that he was now working that Atlantic between Liverpool and New York. Peter's interest in Charlie was reawakened by the centenary of the disaster. Peter had read much of Captain Turner's survival. The family at the time were, like many others, distressed that they might have lost a cherished relative. Hence their concern was not what job Charlie did on a liner but how he had managed to save himself when so many others had perished. Charlie said: "Nearing the end of the ship, I returned to the Bridge and the Captain said: "Charlie I thought I gave the order "Abandon ship!" ". Charlie replied "You did sir. I am doing my duty and also helping the passengers". Captain Turner tried again " We cannot lower any more lifeboats. Mr. Porter I give you a personal order: Abandon ship!" Charlie replied "Sir, when you leave the ship, so will I". With that Turner went into the chartroom to retrieve the chart he'd been working on. Having stuffed it into his tunic and come back out past the wheelhouse, both men were washed off the ship as the water engulfed the Bridge. Fortunately both were good swimmers and got well away from the ship before she sank. Photos of Charlie Porter and some of his family. Peter and Beryl Lawrence/Lusitania Online. Few would dream of defying Captain Turner like that. Few would think it necessary to stay on board when the sinking was so imminent. Peter says he can only suggest that the clue is in the word "Duty". What duty was Charlie actually engaged on at that time? Why was Charlie so different that Captain Turner gave him singular attention in the midst of the emergency? Why does Charlie Porter not appear on the crew or passenger lists? Peter and I can only suggest that as we know the Government were insisting that Lusitania was on a purely civilian journey, that they took the most thorough steps to make sure that Charlie's name never came into the picture either when the ship departed New York nor after her sinking, or at Lord Mersey's subsequent Inquiry. But why? Peter recalled that Charlie was instrumental in equipping and furnishing the Queen Mary in 1934 and even found himself the subject of a cartoon in a Southampton newspaper that bore the tagline "Charlie Porter buys up Southampton!". Is this a clue as to what Charlie was really doing back in 1915? It is a guess I must admit, but perhaps if the facts had been known more openly, there may have been a 1915 cartoon reading: "Charlie Porter buys up America's military supplies!". In other words Charlie Porter, whilst employed by Cunard, was possibly also an Agent for the Admiralty's Trade Dept. His role therefore had to be kept absolutely secret. Charlie's friend, Captain Turner knew, but no one else. There were large consignments of munitions on board, but there were other, equally vital military supplies also aboard the Lusitania. Someone on board had to possess the full knowledge of those cargoes and oversee the safe loading of them in New York. He'd have to know exactly where they were safely and secretly stored on the ship. Equally that person had to be in a position to pass that vital information on reliably when the ship reached Liverpool. If this reading of the situation is correct, it would explain at once why Captain Turner was so anxious for Charlie Porter to survive, despite having his own hands full. In effect Turner felt Charlie had to survive as he was vital to Britain's war effort. Charlie for his part seems to have taken the view that it was his "duty" to safeguard the war supplies, but if Captain Turner himself left the ship, then and only then, would he consider he'd discharged that duty and have no further practical value on the ship, so he'd leave with the Captain. Captain Turner eventually retired to his home in north Liverpool. A wise choice given that the Admiralty's despicable attempts to indict him had left Turner with few friends. Charlie Porter and his wife Nora lived not too far away at 13, Normanton Avenue. We do not know, but we'd like to hope that Charlie would perhaps have met up with his old Captain from time to time. Now all this speculation is fascinating, but it lacks documentary evidence. Or does it? One of the things that puzzled us when we finally got hold of the ship's original cargo manifest, were the initials CP in monogram form, against just about every single listing on all the pages. Up till now, we guessed that it may possibly have stood for Chief Piper, the ship's Chief Officer. Now we had another possibility: Charlie Porter. If only we had a sample of Charlie's handwriting!!! I told Peter of the monogram, invited him to look at it on our website's copy of the manifest and asked him for his opinion. He sent us copies of four postcards that Charlie had sent home in 1907-08, when he worked for P&O. It is interesting to compare the handwriting between the different cards. Charlie's hand appears to have been going through a transitional stage, between a more upright character formation, toward a sloping hand. There was one card that offers a most tantalising resemblance to the monogram on the manifest. The P in "Porter" and in "Pont Street" could easily have been, given a continuing change toward a sloping hand, the seed of the CP monogram so prevalent on the Lusitania manifest 7 years later. There is another card which is nearly all written in a sloping hand, showing a far less florid style, one far more functional and purposeful when compared to the others. If you put that capital P next to the capital C of "Charlie" on the other card, I think we are seeing the birth of the manifest's monogram, which though entirely functional, seems to retain something of his personal flair. The evolution of Charlie Porter's handwriting can clearly be seen in four stages here. Starting with his original upright style on the left, through a more florid style toward the sloping hand of the third stage, but just look at the very last stage, particularly the "P" of Porter, the addressee and "Pont Street" in the adress. Compare that letter with the monogram "CP" on the cargo manifest. Lusitania Online. We did have a further thought on the manifest, namely: The scheme by which each item on that supplementary manifest, even supposedly late luggage, is initialled 'CP' struck us as a little odd. Why not a single signature for receipt of the whole lot? Our guess is that each item actually travelled under an individual codename (for specific war materials). The initials are there, we suspect, to confirm that the correct code has been used for each lot or package. Look at all those strange symbols listed as carton/crate markings on each entry of the manifest. On the ship's arrival in Liverpool, other government agents, seeing a thoroughly checked manifest, should then have been able to interpret the coded descriptions with confidence. Given those codings and the more than diligent initialing beside each individual listing, Charlie definitely seems to have been a sort of very senior checker/chargehand, who was ostensibly a Cunard employee, but who in reality was far more than that. It is another of those ironies that if Charlie had been included on the crew list and given a title such as Chief Cargo Officer, nobody would have been any the wiser as to his real purpose! Turner was great friends with the ship's Chief Engineer, that was no secret. Why would he not have been equally such good friends with any of his other Chief Officers, as he evidently was with Charlie? By the authorities' deliberate and complete omission of Charlie's name, we are left with his now clandestine presence aboard a controversial ship and a fresh set of questions! Is there anyone out there who can possibly help to answer some of them?! From the first entry on sheet 3 of the supplementary manifest. The "CP" monogram. Compare it to the capital P of the last stage of Charlie's handwriting evolution. Lusitania Online. August 2023: An article has just been brought to our attention by Jim MacGregor, about the January 1917 sinking of the former White Star liner Laurentic. The ship was lost to a sudden explosion, thought to have been caused by either a torpedo or a mine, as she was on her way to the United States. In her hold was over 3,200 Gold Bullion bars, which were payment to the Americans for munitions. (All but 20 of those bars were later salvaged). The ship had left Liverpool with 475 officers and crew, but no passengers. The explosion devastated the engine room area and during the emergency, Captain Reginald Arthur Norton and the Chief Steward, went below together and successfully managed to close two of the big watertight bulkhead doors, manually. After checking that there was nobody left alive down there, the pair made their way topside and left the ship together. They were pretty much the last people off the ship. If the story sounds a little familiar......... Laurentic's Chief Steward was named as Mr Charles Porter. But here is where it gets even more intriguing. Requisitioned by the Admiralty in 1915, the ship had been converted to an Armed Merchant Cruiser and was subsequently used as a troopship. Although ostensibly owned by the White Star Line, she was serving as HMS, not RMS Laurentic at the time of her loss. It seems probable that having dropped the Gold off in America, the ship would then have been loaded with more munitions to bring back to England. So, once again we have questions; like why did a liner, then serving as a warship, retain a "Chief Steward" aboard?! Why was this ostensibly Mercantile "Chief Steward" up on the Bridge with the Captain of a doomed and sinking warship? Once again we find Charlie Porter aboard an Admiralty governed vessel; one that, like the Lusitania, was engaged in carrying out important government business. And there he is in the thick of it again, up on the Bridge, staying close to the Captain, right to the bitter end, Even helping the clearly hands-on Captain Norton, in going down into the bowels of a clearly sinking ship with him and trying to save it, by manually closing watertight doors. Calling him the "Chief Steward" of course gives him official crew status, thereby justifying his presence aboard, which is exactly the point we made earlier. Also, Charlie was obviously NOT employed by either Cunard in 1915, nor White Star in 1917. As for Captain Reginald Arthur Norton; he was no Mercantile Captain either. He was very much a career Royal Navy Officer and one who was very experienced in the commanding of Armed Merchant Cruisers. His previous command had been HMS Caronia, a former Cunarder also serving as an AMC. Charlie Porter HAD to have been with the Admiralty Trade dept. and he must have been quite important to them. Wonder how he was recruited, and what his connections were?!

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