George Orrell

boy playing tenor horn

Medal Awarded to Officers and Crew of the Carpathia

Musical Director on the "Carpathia" 1910-1913

It is something of a coincidence that Marshside Brass Band should be invited to participate in the Centenary events marking the sinking of the ‘Titanic’ in 1912. My mother’s next elder brother (there were six children in the family), George Orrell, had a distinguished career as a violinist, and was appointed at the age of 21 as bandmaster/musical director on the Cunard liner, Carpathia; a good post to fill in the very early stages of his career. The coincidence is, of course, that a hundred years later, I should be acting as musical director on this centenary occasion, and we are only one generation apart.

After his contract with Cunard, he decided that the seafaring life wasn’t for him (possibly the close proximity of towering icebergs discouraged him), and he left Liverpool for London where he held many posts, including a long term contract with Louis Levy, who was musical director for the Elstree Film Studios, providing incidental music for the burgeoning film industry of the 1930s. From there he moved to the Royal Philharmonic Orchestra, where he was both a player and Orchestral Manager with Sir Thomas Beecham as principal conductor. After the Second World War, he became a first Violin/leader in the Orchestra at the London Palladium Theatre, and in his later years was manager of the London Orchestral Association, a social and professional club for musicians, situated in Archer Street in Soho, which, back then was a sort of ‘jobcentre’ for the music profession, often known as ‘Tin Pan Alley’.

Leading a very busy professional life in London, he became rather distanced from his family in Liverpool, and I was instrumental in re-establishing the family contact; in my mid-teens I became a member of the National Youth Orchestra of Great Britain, which involved journeys to London. At the age of 15, I decided I would go and find this uncle whom I had never met, and a very happy family relationship was resumed after that long interval. He lived to the age of 87, and we retained contact for the remainder of his life.

It was always interesting to hear recollections of his career, particularly where it concerned the rescue of the survivors of the Titanic disaster. Three things emerge very clearly from his memories; firstly, the superb seamanship of Captain Rostron, who did everything possible to ensure the survival and comfort of those they were able to wrest from the Atlantic, whilst safeguarding the crew and passengers of the Carpathia; secondly, the sheer size and menace of the towering icebergs, and the caution and efficiency with which the ship had to move near them; and thirdly, the total silence when the survivors came aboard – nobody spoke – possibly they couldn’t speak at that most affecting moment.

It was a momentous incident and it is right that the centenary is being commemorated so fully in the City of Liverpool.

Peter Leary