Amidst all the Titanic
hoopla of recent days, it occurred to me that there is an interesting historical
connection between it, Switzerland and my home city of Philadelphia: one Richard Norris Williams II, about whom I
learned a great deal in a previous life as a historian.
Born with a distinguished Philadelphia lineage, Williams –
known by his Old Philadelphia peers as Norris and by contemporary friends as
Dick – had actually been born in 1891 in Geneva, Switzerland, where his father
Charles Duane Williams spent much of his time.
He was educated in Swiss schools and manifested talent as a tennis player. In 1912 he and his father returned to their
home in a suburb of Philadelphia as first class passengers on the new ship Titanic.
According to a memoir that Williams wrote for his family that was
deposited at the Historical Society of Pennsylvania, they had intended to sail
on a previous ship but were delayed by the young Williams’ illness.
When the ship went down Williams dove as far out in the
water as he could to avoid being sucked down by its undertow. After swimming in the water for a while he
encountered a half-submerged collapsible lifeboat and climbed aboard, although
he was still waist deep in the water.
There were thirty in the boat; when they were rescued the next morning only
thirteen were still alive. His father did not survive.
When Williams was taken aboard the Carpathia the ship’s doctor asserted that his severely frost-bitten
legs would have to be amputated.
Williams refused, and spent much of the time before the ship reached New
York walking the decks to restore their circulation. Later that summer he won the United States
mixed doubles competition and then enrolled in Harvard College, from which he
graduated in 1916. His tennis career
continued, bringing U.S. singles championships in 1914 and 1916, before he
entered the U.S. Army in World War I. Because
of his European experience, he served as interpreter (and in intelligence, some later suspected); afterward, France awarded him the Chevalier de la Legion d’Honneur
and Croix de Guerre.
After the war Williams went to work for an investment
bank in New York before returning to Philadelphia. He also returned to tennis, winning the men’s
doubles championship at Wimbledon in 1920 and gold in mixed doubles at the 1924
Olympics, and playing regularly on the U.S. Davis Cup team through 1926. In fact, long before the reign of Roger
Federer, Williams was the first Swiss-born tennis player to win major titles.
In the 1930s Williams settled into the life of the old
Philadelphia upper class, serving on boards of a wide range of civic
institutions, including the Historical Society of Pennsylvania. As a descendent of both Benjamin Franklin and
Bishop William White, one of the founders of the Episcopal Church in the United
States, Williams was naturally interested in history, but he was also an able
administrator. When the Society’s director
entered military service in World War II, Williams assumed management
duties. He remained in that office until
1965, during a period when the society continued its transformation into one of
the foremost manuscript collections in American history.
In the late 1990s the Society hired me to write its history
and I spent many hours reading Williams’ correspondence as director, from which
I discerned much about his personality and character. By the 1940s he had long since retired from
competitive tennis, although he still played doubles regularly. Despite his elite background he was a fair
and well-liked administrator and was much beloved by Society’s staff. Already ailing by the time of his retirement,
he died in 1968. Although characteristically modest and unassuming, Williams made good on his good fortune in surviving the Titanic disaster by living a life rich in accomplishment and service.
