Cold Open

It’s March 1st, 1854, in Liverpool, England.

Footman Angus McMaster carries a heavy wooden trunk through the city docks. Around him, hundreds of sailors and laborers hurriedly load and unload ships. There’s cargo here from all over the world: coffee, rum, spices, and tobacco. Some of the workers’ faces are even stained blue from handling indigo. But the trunk Angus hauls doesn’t contain anything so exotic or valuable: it’s packed with neatly folded clothes belonging to Angus’s employer, Captain Kenneth Morrison—a man Angus is reluctant to meet.

A few weeks ago, Captain Morrison was appointed to command a four-year-old transatlantic steamship, the City of Glasgow. As Captain Morrison’s footman, Angus is expected to serve on the ship too—but for the last three nights, he’s had a recurring nightmare in which his dead father warned him not to board the City of Glasgow or disaster will strike. Now, Angus is conflicted. As he trudges toward the steamship’s berth, he’s still undecided whether to keep his job or listen to his father's ghostly warning.

Angus mutters a short prayer to himself as he passes the Church of St. Nicholas, the patron saint of sailors and safe voyages.

Beyond the church is the SS City of Glasgow. The iron-hulled ship is just over 225 feet long. Smoke billows out of its single black funnel as the last passengers impatiently jostle up the gangplank under the supervision of Captain Morrison.

Angus drops the heavy trunk at Morrison’s feet. Confused, the captain asks his servant to carry it to his quarters. But Angus shakes his head. He’s chosen to heed his father’s advice, and he won’t set foot on this ship.

Captain Morrison is forced to drag his own trunk up the gangplank. Angus walks away. But as he passes the Church of St. Nicholas, Angus turns and looks back at the SS City of Glasgow one last time. The captain has reached the ship’s deck with his trunk, and the two men briefly lock eyes before Captain Morrison offers his now-former footman a wave of goodbye.

Angus McMaster will spend the rest of his life reflecting on Captain Morrison’s farewell—because it’s one of the final times that the captain will ever be seen alive. Angus’s dreams in which his father predicted disaster will proved prophetic. The SS City of Glasgow will begin a long voyage to Philadelphia later that day, but it will never be seen again after leaving the port of Liverpool for the last time on March 1st, 1854.

Introduction

From Noiser and Airship, I’m Lindsay Graham and this is History Daily.

History is made every day. On this podcast—every day—we tell the true stories of the people and events that shaped our world.

Today is March 1st, 1854: A Transatlantic Steamship Vanishes at Sea.

Act One: Maiden Voyage

It’s April 16th, 1850, in Glasgow, Scotland; four years before the steamship City of Glasgow leaves Liverpool for the final time.

A young woman smiles in satisfaction as she stands on the deck of the City of Glasgow. In just a few moments, this new steamship is scheduled to leave port on its maiden voyage—and Mary Brown is excited that her escape plan is coming to fruition.

All her life, Mary has been made miserable by her domineering and abusive brother. But for the last few months, Mary has been secretly saving up money to buy a one-way passage to New York. When she finally had enough cash, she purchased the ticket at the offices of a transatlantic shipping company, the Inman Line, and discovered that the next departure was a brand-new ship: the City of Glasgow. Now, Mary is impatient for her voyage to freedom to begin.

There are more than 400 other passengers on board. The City of Glasgow is able to carry so many thanks to its innovative single propeller design. This requires little machinery in the hull compared to other steamships and lands more space for passengers. The City of Glasgow contains 52 first-class cabins equipped with mahogany sofas, private bathtubs, and gilded mirrors. There are 85 more modest second-class cabins, and the ship also has space for more than 400 passengers like Mary who have bought the cheapest “steerage class” tickets. But even steerage on the City of Glasgow is relatively luxurious. The quarters are cramped but clean, and steerage passengers are even allowed to mix with the first- and second-class guests on the wide promenade deck and in the ship’s two saloons. So Mary expects a comfortable trip across the Atlantic.

As the City of Glasgow’s crew makes final preparations for the voyage, thousands of spectators and loved ones stand on the docks, waving farewells. Mary waves back at the few friends she's told about her decision to leave, but her stomach lurches when she spots the one person she didn’t want to find out, her brother. He barges through the crowd at the head of a group of policemen. He leads them up the steamship’s gangplank and points Mary out to the officers. The men firmly grip her arms and drag the protesting Mary ashore.

There, the policemen accuse her of attempting to flee to America to avoid paying a debt she owes her brother. That is all a lie, and Mary angrily denies the charge. But the questioning only comes to a halt when police officers ask to see paperwork to corroborate her brother’s claim, and he has none.

The police apologize to Mary for the inconvenience, but it’s already too late. By the time she is released, the City of Glasgow has cast off and is steaming downriver toward the Atlantic Ocean. On board, locked inside Mary’s trunk, is everything she owns.

For a moment, it seems like Mary’s brother has succeeded in trapping her. But she refuses to let him win. She remembers that the City of Glasgow is going to make a further stop at nearby Greenock to pick up additional cargo. Mary counts up the coins she has in her purse before flagging down a carriage and directing the driver to hurry to the railway station.

But again she’s too late. She arrives in Greenock after the City of Glasgow has departed. But still undeterred, Mary runs to the docks and pleads with a local fisherman to sail after the transatlantic steamer. Luckily, the fisherman agrees to help the damsel in distress, but his small boat is no match for the powerful steamship. As the river gives way to choppy seawater, the distance between the two vessels widens. Mary curses her bad luck. She’ll have no option but to return home, now penniless, and face the wrath of her brother.

But just as the fisherman prepares to return to port, the City of Glasgow begins to slow. With renewed determination, the fishing boat closes the gap. And pulling up alongside the ship, Mary shouts up to a crew member and explains her extraordinary situation. The sailors hoist her aboard and tell her that the ship has an engine problem—they’re waiting for a replacement part to be delivered via tugboat before they can continue the voyage.

Two weeks later, the SS City of Glasgow will finally dock at New York - with Mary on board. She will disembark in the strange foreign city and pick a path through the crowd of waiting families to start her new life alone. Over the next four years, thousands of other passengers will follow in Mary’s footsteps, until one tragic day when a crowd of loved ones at the dockside will be left waiting for a ship that never comes.

Act Two: Waiting

It’s late February 1854, in Philadelphia, two weeks after the SS City of Glasgow left Liverpool on its final voyage.

40-year-old Irishman William Collis steps into a post office, where he’s greeted warmly by the postmaster. William has been a regular visitor here since arriving in America.

Four months ago, William bought a ticket on the SS City of Glasgow and embarked on a voyage to a new life in America with his sixteen-year-old son, Charles. They left William’s wife, Mary, and five other children behind. But since their arrival in America, William and Charles have found jobs and rented a house. Now, William has told the rest of his family to book tickets to join them, and he’s eagerly awaiting their arrival.

The postmaster hands over a letter, and William tears open the envelope without leaving the counter. He smiles and tells the postmaster that Mary has booked a passage on the same ship that William used, the SS City of Glasgow. It’s due to depart Liverpool on March 1st, and arrive in Philadelphia fifteen days later.

William spends the next three weeks busily buying furniture and preparing for his family’s arrival. And when the day finally comes, he and his teenage son Charles join the expectant crowd waiting at the wharf side. They huddle together to shelter from the wind and point at ships as they make their way up the Delaware River, guessing which distant dot will turn out to be the City of Glasgow. But each time, they’re disappointed—none of the ships that dock that day is the one they’re waiting for. And as the sun sets and it becomes clear that no more ships will arrive that evening, the crowd scatters, and William and Charles walk home in the dark.

The father and son return the next day and retake their place in the crowd. But again, by evening, they’re left disappointed. The SS City of Glasgow still hasn’t arrived.

William isn’t too worried yet. He knows that journey times across the Atlantic are unpredictable. Ships are often delayed by bad weather, ice or mechanical problems. And fortunately, transatlantic steamers are well stocked with surplus food and water for such situations. So, William waits in the bitter cold every day, certain that it won’t be long before he is reunited with his family. But the City of Glasgow doesn’t arrive on March 18th, or March 19th, or any of the days that follow. And every morning, the crowd that William joins at the wharf side is smaller and more subdued.

By April 1st, the SS City of Glasgow is more than two weeks late. Newspapers speculate that its engine must have broken down and the ship has been forced to limp along using its sails. In mid-April, one steamer arrives in New York reporting that it got stuck in an ice field for four days. Reporters soon suggest the same fate has befallen the City of Glasgow. So, the waiting families ask the ship’s owners, the Inman Line, to send a vessel to investigate. But the shipping line isn’t willing to fund a rescue effort when the chances of finding a lost ship in the vast ocean are so slim.

By now, William Collis is distraught. He can’t sleep at night, his eyes are bloodshot and his health is failing. All he can do is wait and pray. But as the weeks pass, William oscillates between optimism and despair. And then, on May 4th, almost fifty days after his family were due to arrive in America, William’s hopes are suddenly revived. He reads in the newspapers that the City of Glasgow has docked back in Liverpool. According to these reports, the steamship sprang a leak and was forced back to its departure point. Reading this William is overjoyed. His family is safe. But the rumor soon turns out to be false. The City of Glasgow did not return to England after all. It is still missing somewhere in the hostile waters of the Atlantic Ocean.

This rollercoaster of emotions leaves William a broken man. Eventually, weeks after the City of Glasgow was supposed to dock, he stops going down to the Philadelphia wharf. And instead of checking for his wife and children’s arrival, he checks himself into an asylum.

Then in June 1854, the Inman Line gives up on the City of Glasgow as well. Quietly, the company removes the ship’s name from its advertisements and scrubs it from future schedules. But stories will continue to circulate about the vessel, and the absence of any definitive proof about its mysterious fate will lead the public to dubious sources in their search for answers—even to fraudsters who claim to speak with the dead.

Act Three: Ghosts

It’s late spring, 1854, at a townhouse in New York; around two months after the City of Glasgow disappeared in the Atlantic Ocean.

A well-dressed man glances curiously at his fellow guests seated around the circular table. Just like him, everyone at the table has their arms outstretched and palms flat. Candles flicker as two young women in pale gowns stare intently into the distance as if in a trance. The well-dressed man shakes his head as he watches the young woman—17-year-old Kate Fox and her 21-year-old sister Maggie—these young women lead the dumbstruck circle in a seance.

Six years ago, the Fox sisters claimed supernatural powers that enable them to communicate with the dead. Crowds have flocked to their events, asking the sisters to speak with their deceased relatives or to predict the future. Their seances have earned the Fox sisters a small fortune, but not everyone is convinced by their abilities—and one of those doubters is the well-dressed man at today’s event, who has been dragged here unwillingly by his more believing wife.

As the well-dressed man bites his tongue, the sisters ask the spirit world for information regarding the fate of the SS City of Glasgow. Through a series of percussive raps which the sisters somehow decode, the spirits apparently explain that the ship caught fire eighteen days into its journey across the Atlantic. Forty-one passengers were killed in the fire, and eleven more died as the ship sank. The remaining 279 passengers escaped in life rafts and sailed for Prince Edward Island off Nova Scotia. They were stranded on a remote beach there, and twelve more died.

When the seance is over, the rapt guests emerge chattering about the revelations—though the well-dressed man does loudly point out that there were in fact 480 passengers aboard the City of Glasgow, 137 more than the Fox sisters’ numbers account for.

But few pay attention to this man’s skepticism, and spiritualists like the Fox sisters go on to profit off the City of Glasgow tragedy for months to come. Irresponsible reporters also continue to make up stories, knowing that any report about the mysterious ship will help sell papers. But no definitive evidence about what happened to the ship will ever be discovered. Eventually, experts will conclude that the SS City of Glasgow likely struck an iceberg in the night and sank so quickly that no one was able to escape—but that would be no comfort to the loved ones left waiting for a steamship that never arrived after it departed Liverpool for the last time on March 1st, 1854.

Outro

Next on History Daily. March 4th, 1519. Hernan Cortez arrives in Mexico in search of the Aztec civilization and its wealth.

From Noiser and Airship, this is History Daily, hosted, edited, and executive produced by me, Lindsay Graham.

Audio editing by Muhammad Shahzaib.

Sound design by Mollie Baack.

Music by Lindsay Graham.

This episode is written and researched by Owen Long.

Edited by Scott Reeves.

Managing producer, Emily Burke.

Executive Producers are William Simpson for Airship, and Pascal Hughes for Noiser.