Maude Murray Van Billiard
Widow of Austin Blyler Van Billiard
Mother of James and Walter Van Billiard
Paris has long been known as the City of Love.
It was where I met my sweetheart, Austin.
We were introduced while I was on a business trip with Father.
Austin had traveled from America to work as an electrician
for the Universal Paris Exhibition.
Ours was a whirlwind courtship.
After only a few months, we were married and started our family.
Our children, James, Walter, and Dorothy were ages five, three, and one
when we sailed to South Africa to mine for diamonds.
Austin dug for the precious stones along the Vaal River,
while I made a home for us in a bamboo hut with a thatched roof.
At times, we lived in tents.
Meals were cooked over an open fire,
and I laundered our clothing down at the river.
In 1907, I gave birth to Donald.
Richard followed nearly two years later.
Then one day, after six challenging years,
Austin announced our adventure had come to an end.
He held the rough stones in his hands—our future.
And we were finally going home.
Upon making our travel arrangements to London,
we discovered the French liner we were to sail aboard had a strict rule.
No infants allowed.
Having just given birth to my sixth child, the mother lioness rose up inside of me.
So, while Austin and the children distracted the ship’s officer with pleasantries,
I slipped Baby George beneath my cape and we passed by unnoticed.
When we returned to London,
Mother and Father swept up their grandchildren into their arms.
There were plenty of hugs to go around for everyone.
It felt good to be home.
Eager to become a diamond merchant,
Austin had set up a business meeting in New York.
First, he had to travel to Amsterdam
to have some of the stones cut to take along with him to America.
As soon as he returned, he was anxious to go to Pennsylvania and see his family.
It’d been twelve years since he’d seen them.
His parents expected us for Easter.
Austin wanted to arrive sooner to surprise them.
But after giving birth to George in February,
I felt much too weak to travel again so soon.
Austin suggested he’d make the trip with our two eldest sons,
and once I regained my strength, the children and I could follow.
Austin booked third-class tickets aboard the RMS Titanic.
James and Walter looked forward to having adventures aboard the ship.
The morning of their departure, James kissed my cheek good-bye.
“I’ll write you a post from the ship, Mummy.”
“Me, too,” Walter promised, hugging my waist.
Austin bent over and I stood on my tiptoes to meet his kiss.
“We’ll see you soon, darling.”
The day I learned of the shipwreck, my mind went numb.
They must be alive. They must be…
Then when their names were not listed among the survivors
I froze. I could not move.
Then an animalistic shriek rose from my throat,
and the cries of a wounded creature echoed throughout my parents’ home.
I paced and pulled at my hair.
Why didn’t I go with them?
My dear God—is someone looking for them?
Maybe they’re still out there waiting to be rescued.
Austin, I thought, if only we waited a few more weeks.
Why couldn’t you have been more patient?
For days, I dropped to my knees praying and clinging to hope.
But hope soon faded and I was inconsolable.
If only I’d been there, I may have been able to put our boys into a lifeboat.
Since the accident, I never thought I’d travel across the sea again,
but ocean liners were now required to carry enough lifeboats for all on board.
So, ten months later, just as Austin and I had planned
I booked passage to America.
Austin’s father and mother got to know their grandchildren.
And not too far from here, is a lovely cemetery with a large marble marker.
Engraved on it are the names of my dear ones.
It’s peaceful there—only the chirping of birds.
I go there often and chat with Austin and our boys,
though, James’ body was never recovered.
After my visit, I say my goodbyes,
wrapping my arms around the large gray stone,
I whisper, “See you soon, my darlings.”
Note: Two weeks after the sinking, the bodies of Austin Van Billiard and his son, Walter, were delivered in coffins to the Van Billiard home in New Wales, Pennsylvania. Though, because of questionable belongings found on Walter, it’s possible the remains may have been of another boy traveling in third class. James’ body was not recovered. Maude Van Billiard never remarried. She dedicated her life to her remaining four children. She died in 1968, at the age of 94, in an Episcopal rest home. The cut diamonds were found among Austin’s belongings, and were returned to his widow.
Widow of Austin Blyler Van Billiard
Mother of James and Walter Van Billiard
Paris has long been known as the City of Love.
It was where I met my sweetheart, Austin.
We were introduced while I was on a business trip with Father.
Austin had traveled from America to work as an electrician
for the Universal Paris Exhibition.
Ours was a whirlwind courtship.
After only a few months, we were married and started our family.
Our children, James, Walter, and Dorothy were ages five, three, and one
when we sailed to South Africa to mine for diamonds.
Austin dug for the precious stones along the Vaal River,
while I made a home for us in a bamboo hut with a thatched roof.
At times, we lived in tents.
Meals were cooked over an open fire,
and I laundered our clothing down at the river.
In 1907, I gave birth to Donald.
Richard followed nearly two years later.
Then one day, after six challenging years,
Austin announced our adventure had come to an end.
He held the rough stones in his hands—our future.
And we were finally going home.
Upon making our travel arrangements to London,
we discovered the French liner we were to sail aboard had a strict rule.
No infants allowed.
Having just given birth to my sixth child, the mother lioness rose up inside of me.
So, while Austin and the children distracted the ship’s officer with pleasantries,
I slipped Baby George beneath my cape and we passed by unnoticed.
When we returned to London,
Mother and Father swept up their grandchildren into their arms.
There were plenty of hugs to go around for everyone.
It felt good to be home.
Eager to become a diamond merchant,
Austin had set up a business meeting in New York.
First, he had to travel to Amsterdam
to have some of the stones cut to take along with him to America.
As soon as he returned, he was anxious to go to Pennsylvania and see his family.
It’d been twelve years since he’d seen them.
His parents expected us for Easter.
Austin wanted to arrive sooner to surprise them.
But after giving birth to George in February,
I felt much too weak to travel again so soon.
Austin suggested he’d make the trip with our two eldest sons,
and once I regained my strength, the children and I could follow.
Austin booked third-class tickets aboard the RMS Titanic.
James and Walter looked forward to having adventures aboard the ship.
The morning of their departure, James kissed my cheek good-bye.
“I’ll write you a post from the ship, Mummy.”
“Me, too,” Walter promised, hugging my waist.
Austin bent over and I stood on my tiptoes to meet his kiss.
“We’ll see you soon, darling.”
The day I learned of the shipwreck, my mind went numb.
They must be alive. They must be…
Then when their names were not listed among the survivors
I froze. I could not move.
Then an animalistic shriek rose from my throat,
and the cries of a wounded creature echoed throughout my parents’ home.
I paced and pulled at my hair.
Why didn’t I go with them?
My dear God—is someone looking for them?
Maybe they’re still out there waiting to be rescued.
Austin, I thought, if only we waited a few more weeks.
Why couldn’t you have been more patient?
For days, I dropped to my knees praying and clinging to hope.
But hope soon faded and I was inconsolable.
If only I’d been there, I may have been able to put our boys into a lifeboat.
Since the accident, I never thought I’d travel across the sea again,
but ocean liners were now required to carry enough lifeboats for all on board.
So, ten months later, just as Austin and I had planned
I booked passage to America.
Austin’s father and mother got to know their grandchildren.
And not too far from here, is a lovely cemetery with a large marble marker.
Engraved on it are the names of my dear ones.
It’s peaceful there—only the chirping of birds.
I go there often and chat with Austin and our boys,
though, James’ body was never recovered.
After my visit, I say my goodbyes,
wrapping my arms around the large gray stone,
I whisper, “See you soon, my darlings.”
Note: Two weeks after the sinking, the bodies of Austin Van Billiard and his son, Walter, were delivered in coffins to the Van Billiard home in New Wales, Pennsylvania. Though, because of questionable belongings found on Walter, it’s possible the remains may have been of another boy traveling in third class. James’ body was not recovered. Maude Van Billiard never remarried. She dedicated her life to her remaining four children. She died in 1968, at the age of 94, in an Episcopal rest home. The cut diamonds were found among Austin’s belongings, and were returned to his widow.
