Whenever men speak of tragedies of the sea, the story of La Bourgogne, the French Line steamship, which was sunk in collision with the British ship Cormartyshire, is always recalled. The conduct of the French sailors upon that occasion is held up as a shining example of what the behavior of a crew should not be. It even appears more reprehensible in the light of comparison with the heroism and noble sacrifices of the male passengers and crew who went down with the Titanic.
There were 584 persons drowned in the wreck, and only one woman was saved. She was saved by her husband, who seems to have been the only man in all that great company who showed his manhood in the face of that overwhelming disaster.
This hero was Adrien Lacasse, a young French teacher, of Plainfield, N. J. He died three years ago in New York, pneumonia being given as the immediate cause of death. His friends know that the horrors through which he had gone so weakened his constitution that he could not withstand the illness.
Mrs. Victoire Lacasse is living quietly in this city with her son Robert, who was born after the disaster.
Time has not erased the lines left by the tragedy in her face, and only a glance at that sad, patient face tells the story of her suffering.
Since the news of the wreck of the Titanic came she has not dared to remain alone with her thoughts, but has always had some friend near her when it was possible, and when it was not has found comfort in talking to them over the telephone.
Mrs. Lacasse has written the story of the Bourgogne. She has taken occasion in this story to protest against the “rule of the sea” which provides for “women and children first.”
On the contrary, she believes that it should be “families first,” and says that she would rather have gone down with her husband than have been saved without him. Mrs. Lacasse’s story follows:
I have read only the headlines about the wreck of the Titanic. That is all that I had to read. The rest I know. I can see all the things that happened aboard the big funeral ship as vividly as if I had been aboard her when she collided head-on with the iceberg.