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1910s: Titanic dream meant Geoffrey (96) survived to tell many a tale
Geoffrey Cavendish has lived through nearly a century of changes thanks to his father who refused to take him on the Titanic. Now, as he watches Derby residents enjoying Markeaton Park, the 96-year-old thinks back to a long gone era when his great aunt lived in the beautiful Markeaton Hall, with servants, gardeners, horse-drawn carriages, liveried coachmen and top-hatted footmen, hosting wonderful weekend parties for the rich and famous. Pat Parkin went to chat to the nonagenarian.
Saved from a watery grave on board the Titanic in 1912 by his father’s dream that the maiden voyage of the largest and most luxurious steam ship ever built at the time would end in disaster, Geoffrey Manners Cavendish has lived to the ripe old age of 96.
With a mind as sharp as it ever was, he has lived through nearly a century of important historic events and he enjoys nothing more than sharing his memories with others.
Bright-eyed, lively and intelligent, he often holds court at Wheathills Residential Home in Kirk Langley, where he lives, fascinating and amazing staff, residents and their visitors, with his tales of a past age and memories of life in the drawing rooms of London homes and elegant country houses.
Geoffrey was related to a number of well-to-do aristocratic families and, with his older brother, Henry, was left at home with staff when their parents decided to sail to New York on the wonderful new ship, the Titanic.
Their father, Tyrell Cavendish, foresaw the Titanic’s fate in a dream and was so convinced by it that he refused to put his sons’ lives at risk.
Although he knew women and children would be put into lifeboats first, he felt they would not survive the bitter cold in the northern Atlantic Ocean while waiting for rescue. So he and his wife, Julia, who was born in America, travelled alone.
“When the disaster happened my mother was fortunate to get into a lifeboat but, sadly, father drowned,” said Geoffrey.
His mother was saved by her lady’s maid, Nellie Barber, who had rushed from her lower deck cabin to give warning, after seeing water flooding in.
Both were eventually rescued and Geoffrey’s mother later told of the bravery of the Titanic crew who stayed with the ship to the end. She also praised the captain and crew of the Carpathia, the ship which rescued them.
Geoffrey and Henry never heard about their father’s prophetic dream until their mother revealed it to them just before she died. She also told them that earlier on the evening of the disaster, she had told her husband: “You see how silly you were,” and his father had replied: “We are not there yet.”
A few hours later the ship collided with an iceberg and the rest is history.
Said Geoffrey: “It seems an incredible story, but it was true.”
And thanks to that decision by the father he never knew, his own stories of life in a golden age, live on almost a century later.
Amazingly, Geoffrey can vividly remember certain parts of his young life, like walking in Hyde Park, in 1914, with his pretty French governess before the air raids of the First World War, watching anti-aircraft guns on turntables being put in place and seeing carriage horses with terrible wounds on domestic duty after enduring skirmishes in France.
He also used to love to watch elegant men and women out riding in Rotten Row, Hyde Park.
Armistice Day on November 11, 1918 , which marked the end of hostilities with Germany, sticks in his mind because there were so many Union Jacks everywhere and people were celebrating all over London.
Though he has distant links with the Duke of Devonshire’s family and Lord Waterpark of Doveridge Hall, it was his great aunt, Mrs Emily Mundy, of Markeaton Hall, Derby, with whom he formed a long and lasting relationship. The wife of Francis Noel Mundy, she had no children of her own and Geoffrey became her favourite nephew from a very early age.
He paid countless visits to Markeaton, spending weeks at a time there and, though he went off to public school and eventually to London to work, it always held fond memories for him – which is why he now lives at Kirk Langley, which stands on the old boundaries of the Markeaton estate.
.“I loved it there. My aunt was very kind and loving to me. I remember going to bed by candlelight because there was no electricity and only gas lighting up to the first floor. There were no baths or lavatories and iron tubs were used to carry water to the upper floors.
“Around the age of 10, I recall staying there and being cared for by the footmen, butler and other staff. I think they felt sorry for me because I had no father, so they were very kind to me. The Irish cook used to give me extra titbits and I was certainly very well looked after.
“Over the years a lot of famous people came to stay. All of them would talk to me and tell me things and I learned a great deal from them, especially about antiques. I think I had a terrific education at Markeaton. ”
In his teen years, Geoffrey went to Stowe public school and became a proficient sportsman, excelling in boxing, fencing and rugby. He worked for many years at the Air Ministry as an inspector in the engineering department before returning to Derby to live.
His great aunt was a well-known dignitary in Derby social circles and there are still writings about her elegant lifestyle at Markeaton, travelling to church in a horse and carriage
She was a pretty young woman but, by the 1920s, when Geoffrey remembers her, she was confined to a Victorian invalid chair. His lasting memory of her was in the bath chair with shelves she had built around it to display some of her valuable treasures.
When friends would call to visit her, she would hand a dish or a vase from her display to them as a keepsake. Geoffrey was given a Derby China dish depicting Markeaton Hall. But his greatest memento of Mrs Mundy is a picture of her taken in her bath chair in 1924, signed Y A G, which he carried and treasured all his life, and which he has now passed on to Derby Museum.
Mrs Mundy was a familiar sight going to church in her horse-drawn carriage, with liv eried coachman and top-hatted footman in attendance.
After the death of her husband in 1903, she kept up their gentile lifestyle, running their beautiful home with the help of five gardeners and 14 servants. When she died in 1929, she willed the hall to Derby Corporationl to be used for the benefit of local people, with the proviso that it should not be demolished.
Sadly, this was ignored and, despite virulent protests by Derby people, most of it was pulled down in 1964 but the grounds became a public park. All that is left today is the stable block and orangerie, which Geoffrey often visits.
He has had a commemorative bench installed there, in the rose garden, in memory of his second wife, Pamela, who died two years ago.
Other memories from his early life include the magnificent Crakemarsh Hall, Uttoxeter, again demolished, where his mother had lived and which was his home for a number of years. He recalls that J C Bamford, the worldwide business, began its early activities in the stable block there.
Geoffrey married a New Zealander, Caecilia, in 1937, with whom he had two daughters, Caroline Aliaga-Kelly, who lives in New Zealand and Bridget Rokeby-Johnson, and has two grandsons.
He has a great love of ballroom dancing which he shared with his second wife and he still loves to give a display of his agility.
“We had a wonderful time in those days. Dancing was very popular and we were pretty good at it,” he laughed.
- Editor's note: Since this article was first published in the Derby Evening Telegraph Geoffrey has died. He passed away at the age of 97 in June 2007.
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County: Derbyshire
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This article is from the Derby Evening Telegraph and is reproduced online here.






