Author's Note/Disclaimer:I do not own RMS Titanic and historical figures connected to her.
I think these men deserve to be mentioned: Mr. Ronald Brailey, Mr. Roger Marie Bricoux, Mr. John Frederick Preston Clarke, Mr. Wallace Henry Hartley, Mr. John Law Hume, Mr. Georges Alexandre Krins, Mr. Percy Cornelius Taylor, Mr. John Wesley Woodward. They are not some heroes; they didn't save Titanic's passengers lives risking their own lives. They were just the musicians, and they task was just to play the music. But they deserve to be mentioned. (Thanks to the site "Encyclopedia Titanica" for information, all the historical facts in this fanfic are taken from it. )
The Christian Hymn Nearer My God To Thee:
Lyrics: Sarah F. Adams, 1805-1848
Music: Lowell Mason, 1792-1872
Perhaps, for the first time in the voyage no one was listening to them; no one was enjoying the music, no one was dancing and singing along to the songs. Titanic was overcame with panic, despair and fear. Who needs the music in this situation? Music couldn't comfort the people who needed the only one thing - to reach the lifeboat. To reach the lifeboat by any efforts. If not the lifeboat, then any, any safe, dry, warm place. To found itself in safety by any efforts. No matter what is going on around - to reach the lifeboat. Who needs the music now?
The Titanic's musicians were ordered by the Captain to play. Just to play, to entertain, to keep people calm, to convince people there is no danger...No danger, no panic, no threat...There was danger. There was panic, growing so fast, furiously and mercilessly, that the passengers weren't able to struggle. The most luxurious, expensive and elegant creation of White Star Line was turning into hell, where everyone just wanted to live, to survive, to escape - and almost no one had the hope for surviving.
But the musicians were told to play, and they were playing. Even if they hadn't been ordered, they would play anyway. It was their work which kept that eight different men together. They were the passengers of the same second class, they had the same ticket number - 250654. They were young the oldest member of the orchestra and its leader, Wallace Hartley, was 33. But in the night of 14 of April, 1912, they understood something very important about each other.
Mr. Hartley looked at his companions. They had just finished playing, and now, when it was clear that a little time remained to try to find the lifeboat, he was ready to say goodbye - not only to them, but to himself as well. He felt alone on the deck while they were going away, even though so many faces surrounded him. Wallace thought that every face, flashing in front of his eyes, exhausted from fear and despair, was completely alone that minutes. But he felt it's not the end. Something important had to be done. Something...had to be played. The melody appeared in his conscious, the fingers slid on the strings of the violin...
Nearer, my God, to Thee, nearer to Thee!E'en though it be a cross that raiseth me;Still all my song shall be nearer, my God, to Thee,Nearer, my God, to Thee, nearer to Thee!
He heard the steps behind him. One by one his companions joined him, the hymn sounded louder and more and more piercing.
Though like the wanderer, the sun gone down,Darkness be over me, my rest a stone;Yet in my dreams I'd be nearer, my God, to Thee,Nearer, my God, to Thee, nearer to Thee!
The tall middle-aged man suddenly separated from the running, panicking crowd and walked up to the band. For a minute he stood listening silently, without moving. Then he inclined his head with approval, smiled, and his lips hardly noticeably begun to move along to the melody - he was singing.
There let the way appear steps unto heav'n;All that Thou sendest me in mercy giv'n;Angels to beckon me nearer, my God, to Thee,Nearer, my God, to Thee, nearer to Thee!
If look closer, it was able to see the bitterness in his hazel eyes, but it was disappearing with every note which broke away from musical instruments, as if the man was understanding something very important and very deep - deeper,than the waters of the Atlantic Ocean. His smile was warm and sincere, and his face cleared up. It was unbelievable to understand that that happy person was about to vanish without trace in the nearest time.
Then with my waking thoughts bright with Thy praise,Out of my stony griefs Bethel I'll raise;So by my woes to be nearer, my God, to Thee,Nearer, my God, to Thee, nearer to Thee!
The few minutes of playing were short like a second and long like the years. The melody calmed down. The musicians exchanged their looks and slightly smiled to each other with some kind of facilitation. The water was in some steps and it was ready to swallow them; but the men actually didn't bother.
"Gentlemen, it has been a privilege playing with you tonight." Wallace spoke calmly, almost solemnly.
"Can I take away a little bit of your time before we will be taken by the waves and appear before the God's eyes, gentlemen?"
The band turned to the man who joined them a moment ago.
'Well...I want to say that it was truly the best playing I have ever heard in my life. This is my favorite hymn, it always brings the peace to my soul...I'm glad to hear it right here and right now... Thank you, gentlemen. It was played on my wife's funeral, and your playing, sirs, have brought my memories about her. Now I am ready to meet my dear Christine...Thank you once again, gentlemen."
He nodded deferentially, and, before the musicians were able to nod him in answer, disappeared in the crowd.
For a second the band stood in silence. The water knocked the men down, but they were smiling.
"Well...I don't know about you, my friends, but I was happy to have such a listener!" Wallace laughed.
Or if on joyful wing, cleaving the sky,Sun, moon, and stars forgot, upwards I fly,Still all my song shall be, nearer, my God, to Thee,Nearer, my God, to Thee, nearer to Thee!
All the musicians of RMS Titanic went down with the sinking ship. The bodies of the three members of the band - Wallace Hartley, John Clarke and John Hume - were recovered after the disaster.