Father Thomas Roussel David Byles
41 years old, second-class, perished
My brother William had requested I officiate at his wedding.
So I left my flock at St. Helen’s in blessed hands
and set sail for New York aboard Titanic.
My friend, Monsignor Watson, had entrusted me with his portable altar stone
to celebrate Mass whilst at sea.
It was Low Sunday,
seven days after our Lord rose from His tomb,
that I and another priest from Lithuania celebrated God’s Word--
in English, French, German, and Hungarian--
to passengers in second and third class.
We spoke of how just as men needed a lifebelt
to save themselves in an actual shipwreck,
men also needed a spiritual lifeboat
in the shape of a prayer to save their souls.
For no man knows his final hour.
Not even I knew that I was living mine.
Up until the end, I absolved the God's people of their sins,
thundered prayers above their desperate cries
as the ocean rose to meet us,
its merciless waves sweeping humanity away.
Soon we humbly climbed aboard a spiritual lifeboat
built of hundreds of our prayers
with more than enough room for all departed souls.
And together we rowed toward Glory.
Note: Father Byles was on his way to New York to officiate at his youngest brother’s, wedding. He was to set sail on a different ship, but due to a coal strike his ticket was transferred to the RMS Titanic. His body was not among those recovered. A photograph of Father Byles hangs at St. Helen’s, Ongar, Essex. There is also a memorial door at the church for the beloved priest.
41 years old, second-class, perished
My brother William had requested I officiate at his wedding.
So I left my flock at St. Helen’s in blessed hands
and set sail for New York aboard Titanic.
My friend, Monsignor Watson, had entrusted me with his portable altar stone
to celebrate Mass whilst at sea.
It was Low Sunday,
seven days after our Lord rose from His tomb,
that I and another priest from Lithuania celebrated God’s Word--
in English, French, German, and Hungarian--
to passengers in second and third class.
We spoke of how just as men needed a lifebelt
to save themselves in an actual shipwreck,
men also needed a spiritual lifeboat
in the shape of a prayer to save their souls.
For no man knows his final hour.
Not even I knew that I was living mine.
Up until the end, I absolved the God's people of their sins,
thundered prayers above their desperate cries
as the ocean rose to meet us,
its merciless waves sweeping humanity away.
Soon we humbly climbed aboard a spiritual lifeboat
built of hundreds of our prayers
with more than enough room for all departed souls.
And together we rowed toward Glory.
Note: Father Byles was on his way to New York to officiate at his youngest brother’s, wedding. He was to set sail on a different ship, but due to a coal strike his ticket was transferred to the RMS Titanic. His body was not among those recovered. A photograph of Father Byles hangs at St. Helen’s, Ongar, Essex. There is also a memorial door at the church for the beloved priest.
