Born on the 27th of January 1850 at 51 Well Street in the landlocked town of Hanley, Stoke, England, Edward John Smith was an only child. His father was Edward, a potter, and his mother was Catherine. He was a member of the Etruria Methodist Church, which was built in 1805. The church still stands today looking much like it did when Edward John Smith attended it as a boy.

      Smith married Sarah Eleanor, daughter of William Pennington, at St. Oswald's Church in Winwick. They would first live at Spar Cottage in Winwick. They had one daughter Helen Melville Smith born in Liverpool, England in 1898.

      Per his schoolfellow, William Jones, of Edmund-street, Hanley, Stoke-on-Trent, Smith was "a genial and good schoolfellow; one always ready to give a kind of helping hand in any way to his mates." He was a scholar at Etruria, the school which the great and the good Wedgwood, the potter of worldwide fame, established and maintained in Staffordshire.

      "My memory," says Mr. Jones, "brings back many happy days spent with him at school, and also many happy hours before and after school time. There were six of us in those days - six firm friends who stuck together, and Smith was the staunchest of us all. I remember how Vincent Simspon used to call on me first, and how we would call for Johnny Leonard. Then the three of us would knock at Ted Smith's door, and having collected the others we would run down Mill-street and Etruria-road to school." "He was a brave soul as a boy. He was always ready to help and give of his best."

      Edward John Smith went to sea at age of thirteen. He became an apprentice on a clipper ship, the Senator Weber, in 1869, an American built sailing vessel owned by A. Gibson & Co of Liverpool. He served as the Fourth Officer on the Celtic in 1880.

      Joining the White Star Line in 1886, Smith served aboard the company's major vessels - freighters to Australia, liners to New York - he quickly assumed command. In 1887, he was appointed the captain of the Republic.

      As the ships grew in size, so did the importance of Captain Smith. He was the Majestic's captain for nine years starting in 1895, during which period he made two trooping voyages to South Africa during the Boer War. For this service he was awarded the Transport Medal. In addition, he was an honorary commander of the Royal Naval Reserve and, as such, had been granted warrant number 690 allowing him to fly the Blue Ensign on any merchant vessels he commanded. His career would lead him to command 17 more White Star vessels.

      Among these ships was the Adriatic. In 1907 having brought her safely to New York on her maiden voyage, he confidently spoke to the press, "When anyone asks me how I can best describe my experiences in nearly 40 years at sea, I merely say, uneventful. Of course, there have been winter gales, and storms and fog and the like, but in all my experience I have never been in any accident of any sort worth speaking about. I have seen but one vessel in distress in all my years at sea - a brig, the crew of which were taken off in a small boat in charge of my third officer. I never saw a wreck and have never been wrecked, nor was I ever in any predicament that threatened to end in disaster of any sort. You see, I am not very good material for a story."

      Little did Captain Smith know that his photograph would one day make the front pages of newspapers around the world.

      A friend of Smith's, Dr. Williams, related a conversation with Captain Smith when he commanded the Adriatic. The Captain had said "We do not care anything for the heaviest storms in these big ships. It is fog that we fear. The big icebergs that drift into warmer water melt much more rapidly under water than on the surface, and sometimes a sharp, low reef extending two or three hundred feet beneath the sea is formed. If a vessel should run on one of these reefs half her bottom might be torn away."

      According to Williams, he pointed out the inadequacy of the Adriatic's lifeboats and asked Captain Smith what would happen if the Adriatic struck a concealed reef of ice and was badly damaged. "Some of us would go to the bottom with the ship." was the captain's whimsical reply.

      Smith was ranked highly by the White Star Line. Since the Baltic of 1904 he had taken out the company's newest liners on their maiden voyages. After Baltic came Adriatic in 1907, then Olympic in 1911.

      Captain Smith was regarded as a "safe Captain" and, for the period, he probably was. Yet he had been in command of the Germanic when on 16 February 1899, she capsized at her New York pier from ice accumulations in her rigging and superstructure. There was a fire aboard the Baltic in 1904 as well as this same ship running aground in 1909. Although, the report of this was in the New York Times, the officers denied that it happened. They had insisted it must be some other ship. In June 1911 while maneuvering the Olympic into her New York Pier, the ship had damaged a tugboat with the thrust from one of the its propellers. It seemed that Captain Smith - along with most contemporary liner captains - had much to learn about the displacement effects of the ship's huge hulk. The incident was therefore written up as a minor scrape, although the tug's owner did sue White Star for $10,000, prompting a counter suit from the company. Ultimately, both cases were dropped because of lack of evidence.

      It was not the only mishap with the Olympic. On Wednesday, 20 September 1911, the Olympic set off from Southampton on her fifth voyage, under the command of Captain Smith. As she made her way down the Solent and headed out to pass the east end of the Isle of Wright, she got up to a speed of 18 knots. She was nominally under the direction of George Bowyer, a very experienced Trinity House Pilot. As she turned to starboard to round the Bramble bank, speed was reduced to 11 knots but the wide radius of her turn surprised the commander of the HMS Hawke, a 7,000 ton cruiser, who was unable to take sufficient avoiding action.

      The two ships collided, the cruiser's steel and concrete bow ram burying itself deep into the starboard quarter of the great liner. Baggage stowed in the hold of the Olympic spilled out onto the deck of the Hawke.

      Fortunately nobody was killed and both ships remained afloat, the Olympic making it back to Southampton on one engine, despite two major watertight compartments being completely flooded. Although the blame was legally placed on the Olympic, and the White Star Line faced with large legal costs as well as the costs of repairing the ship and the losses resulting form the disruption of services, the solace was that the ship had survived a major collision (the Hawke, after all, was designed to sink enemy ships by ramming them) and had remained a float and stable despite serious flooding.

      "The commander of the Hawke was entirely to blame", a young officer on board the Olympic had complained, "He was 'showing off' his war ship before a throng of passengers and made a miscalculation." Captain Smith probably smiled enigmatically at the theory advanced by his subordinate, but made no comment as to this view of the mishap. Declared Captain Smith,

      Smith had also been quoted as saying "I cannot imagine any condition which would cause a ship to founder. I cannot conceive of any vital disaster happening to this vessel. Modern shipbuilding has gone beyond that."

      A friend of Captain Smith's, Glen Marston, said that while returning from Europe on the Olympic, he remarked to the Captain on the small number of lifeboats carried by such a large passenger steamer. It was then that the Captain spoke of the life preserving equipment on the Titanic, which was then under construction. Marston quoted Smith as saying he thought the lack of equipment for saving lives was not due to a desire of the steamship owners to save money, but rather because they believed their ships to be safe. Lifeboats were thought to be required only in cases in which passengers were to be landed." It was the Captain's opinion, according to Marston, that enough lifeboats and rafts should be carried to insure safety to every passenger in case of an accident.

      Over the years, White Star Line had built up a clientele of passengers who would not dream of crossing the Atlantic on a liner commanded by anyone other than Edward John Smith. In later years, the description of Smith would be an avuncular man with a gray beard and a barrel chest, he was the epitome of an old sea dog. He may have looked fearsome, but in truth he was soft-spoken, gentle and a leader in whom passengers and crews had great confidence. He had a pleasant, quiet voice and a ready smile. A natural leader and a fine seaman, Captain Smith was popular alike with officers and men.

      Charles Lightoller, one of his officers, related, "I had been with him many years, off and on, in the mail boats, Majestic, mainly, and it was an education to see him con his own ship up through the intricate channels entering New York at full speed. One particularly bad corner, known as the South-West Spit, used to make us fairly flush with pride as he swung her round, judging his distances to a nicety; she heeling over to the helm with only a matter of feet to spare between each end of the ship and the banks."

      "Though I believe he's an awful stickler for discipline he's popular with everybody." wrote Titanic's Sixth Officer James Moody to his sister.

      "The crew knew him to be a good, kind-hearted man," a steward shared, "and we looked upon him as a sort of father."

      Among the passengers, the veterans of the smoking room swore by him. He enjoyed the confidence alike of millionaires and bishops ('he never took a risk, was the considered opinion of the Bishop of Willesden). Children, too, adored him, and were sure of being noticed by him. He was known affectionately as "E.J." among more than a generation of ocean travelers.

      On account of E.J.'s popularity it became a custom for the company to appoint him to the command of each of their finest ships as it came into operation. A maiden voyage without Captain Smith in command was almost unthinkable.

      U.S. Congressman, William Alden Smith and his son had made a North Atlantic voyage aboard the Baltic in 1906. The American congressman, six years later, would lead the US Inquiry into the sinking of the Titanic. As a U.S. Congressman, he had been invited to dine at the captain's table, Captain E.J. Smith. The conversation had turned from railway regulation to steamship safety. Subsequently, EJ had invited him to the bridge, where he viewed the mechanism that activated the watertight doors. The captain had then conducted the Congressman and his son on a tour through the ship, explaining everything in detail. William Alden was duly impressed - as impressed as he was later dumbfounded - "EJ was no fool, nor was he "reckless" as some editors would suggest after the Titanic disaster.

      The Titanic's maiden voyage, his last voyage as commodore of the line, would be a fitting end to a long and distinguished career. Smith was 62. But Smith, for all his experience, was still learning the fine points of seamanship required to navigate this new breed of superliner.

      The night before Captain Smith left New York for Europe to take command of the Titanic, he dined with Mr. & Mrs. W.P. Willie of Flushing, Long Island, New York. It was later reported to the press in NY that at that dinner, Captain Smith was according to Mr. Willie, enthusiastic over the prospects of his new command. He said he shared with the designers of the vessel the utmost confidence in her seagoing abilities and told Mr. & Mrs. Willie that it was impossible for her to sink. He looked forward then to the most successful days of his seagoing career, and especially dwelt upon the idea that the Titanic's appearance on the Atlantic marked a high point of safety and comfort in the evolution of ocean travel. He regarded that vessel as one that would stay above water in the face of the most unexpected trials. Even if a part of the hull should be seriously damaged, he said, there need be no doubt that she would reach port.

      And so, Smith handed over the Olympic to Captain Herbert James Haddock and arrived in Belfast on 1 April to take the new ship, the Titanic. Her sea trials were the next day.

      In Belfast, the ship's officers had already spent the previous few days ensuring that everything was ready. Captain Smith put the ship through her tests: engines put to high speed for the first time, allowing her to drift into a full stop were a few examples. Various maneuvers were conducted; port and starboard turns using only the rudder, slowing down and speeding up; turning with first the port and then the starboard propeller assisting. There was even a major stopping test where Officer's Moody & Murdoch measured the distance after the Titanic at full speed was put at full astern. At a twenty-knot speed - Titanic took a bit less than half a mile - about 850 yards - to come to a complete stop.

      With the sea trials quickly over, the Titanic sailed at midnight from Belfast to Southampton to take it's maiden voyage. Mr. Kempster, a director at Harland and Wolff, the company that built the Titanic, stated that before the ship left Belfast, Captain Smith was asked if courage and fearlessness in the face of death existed amongst seamen as of old. Captain Smith declared if any disaster like the Birkenhead happened, they would go down as those men went down.

      When Smith arrived at Southampton, his first problem was that of the coal miner's strike. Coal was in very short supply. The Titanic had 1880 tons aboard and took additional supplies from the Olympic as well as other ships such as the Majestic, Oceanic, Philadelphia, New York & St. Louis. All this was not helped by the fact that there was a fire in Number 10 bunker on the starboard side of Boiler Room 6. This had started as the ship left Belfast and would not be extinguished until Saturday, the 13th of April at 12 Noon, the day before Titanic stuck an iceberg.

      Henry Tingle Wilde was transferred from the Olympic to the Titanic on 9 April to be the Chief Officer at Captain Smith's request. This caused a reshuffle amongst the deck officers.

      Wednesday, 10 April , Sailing Day. Shortly before 7AM, Captain Smith, left his home at Woodhead, a red-bricked, twin-gabled home on Winn Road in Southampton. Smith was wearing a bowler hat and a long overcoat. The local newspaper boy Albert "Ben" Benham remembers him coming out and saying to him, "'Alright son, I'll take my paper.'" The boy gave the departing captain his paper.

      Smith turned around to wave good-bye to his wife Eleanor and twelve-year old daughter, Helen, who stood in the doorway. He then entered his waiting taxi. His ride from Westwood Park took him through the center of Southampton and down the hill to the docks.

      Boarding the vessel at about 7:30AM, he went directly to his cabin to receive the sailing report from his Chief Officer Henry Tingle Wilde. At 8AM the Blue Ensign was hoisted at the stern and the crew under direction of petty officers, began to assemble on deck for muster. The ship's articles - the 'sign on list' - for each department was distributed to respective department heads.

      Smith's occupation this morning was to meet and assist the various officials whose approval would permit the vessel to go to sea. Captain Benjamin Steele, White Star's marine superintendent, supervised the muster as each man was scrutinized by one of the ship's doctors. A company representative further examined each department's final rosters, then handed them to Captain Steele who in turn, took them to Captain Smith for examination and approval.

       Even as the passengers were boarding, the local Board of Trade inspector, Captain Maurice Harvey Clarke, was making the final check. Despite a rigorous inspection that included the crew to operate and lower two of the ship's lifeboats, he did not notice, or was not advised of the bunker fire raging below. Captain Smith had been assured by Chief Engineer Joseph Bell that the situation was under control, and that if there was damage - and he doubted there was - it would be confined to a small portion of the transverse bulkhead and would in no way damage the hull's soundness. On the chief engineer's assurance, Captain Smith assumed the risk.

      While he signed the final documents, Captain Steele received the formal Captain's Report from Captain Smith, stating "I hereby report this ship loaded and ready for sea. The engines and boilers are in good order for the voyage, and all charts and sailing directions up-to-date. Your obedient servant, Edward J. Smith." There were handshakes all around, offers of congratulation and 'good voyage' as the two officials left the bridge.

      There were so many visitors. Roy Diaper, the son of a mariner and then a child was brought on board and remembers "Captain Smith didn't speak to me but he bent down and shook me by the hand, there was a tremendous bustle going on and Captain Smith was surrounded by people." Mrs. Smith, and their daughter Helen, also boarded the ship briefly, visiting the bridge before leaving again.

       As the midday sailing time approached, the officials took their leave and all gangways except one were landed. Already aboard was the pilot. Two new figures dressed in civilian clothes entered the bridge. Thomas Andrews, managing director of Harland & Wolff, and J. Bruce Ismay, president & managing director of the White Star Line, exchanged greetings and best wishes for a good voyage with Smith & Wilde before leaving the bridge. Pilot George Bowyer who had been piloting the Olympic when she collided with the HMS Hawke, now had his red and white striped flag flying at the masthead. Bowyer now conferred with Smith about the draughts, turning circles and maneuverability of the immense liner.

      On the stroke of 12 Noon, Captain Smith gave the order to sound the ship's horns and the traditional triple blast echoed across Southampton. As the officers confirmed that all was ready, the Captain ordered the lines cast off. As the thick hawsers splashed into the water, the Titanic was freed from the land, and the same five tugs that brought her into the dock now edged her out into the newly dredged turning circle and maneuvered her bow into a position facing down the River Test. The tugs cast off. The telegraph now rang down to start the ship's propellers turning. The two mighty bronze propellers began to turn slowly. Against the incoming tide, Titanic's bow knifed ahead, slowly at first, then faster as more power reached her propellers.

      At that time, the New York was moored along side the Oceanic at Berth 38. The Oceanic tied to the quay, both ships facing downstream. They were both temporarily out of service due to the coal strike. What this meant was that the deep channel which the Titanic was obliged to follow, was slightly obstructed. By the time she passed the two moored ships, the Titanic was traveling fast enough to generate a suction force (known as the canal effect) as she was drawing water behind her with considerable force. The New York's mooring lines snapped under the strain and her stern began to drift out into the path of the Titanic. The quick action of the master of the tug Vulcan, who managed to get a line aboard the New York, prevented the collision. Although a quick action aboard the Titanic also helped as "Full Astern" was ordered and the starboard anchor was lowered to the water line, ready to act as a brake if required. As the Titanic slowed and then reversed, the gap between the two ships was a matter of feet. The New York was brought under control and the Titanic was again able to proceed after a delay of nearly an hour. Not a good start to the voyage.

      As the Titanic finally steamed past the lawns of the Royal Yacht Squadron at West Cowes, telescopes, and binoculars where leveled as the people lined the railings to see the Titanic go by. Seated in a boat, in readiness to take a photograph, was a local pharmacist who had recently given evidence in connection with the Hawke's collision with the Olympic. Captain Smith on the bridge high above, recognizing the photographer, saluted him with four blasts of the liner's siren.

      Now under way, things settled down and after disembarking the pilot on the Nab Light Vessel, the Titanic turned south and set her course for her short run across the English Channel to Cherbourg. This part of the voyage was uneventful as both passengers and crew began to settle into the routine, which would occupy their next seven days.

      The Titanic dropped anchor at Cherbourg at 6:30PM. She remained for only an hour and a half embarking passengers from the tenders, but also dropping off thirteen first class and seven second class passengers. Just before 8PM, a triple blast from the horns announced that Titanic was about to sail and minutes later the anchor was aweigh as the Titanic turned under her own power and edged slowing out of the harbor before gathering speed and setting off westward into the night towards Ireland.

      On the way, Captain Smith did some more testing. The compasses needed adjustments. The Titanic began a series of lazy "S" turns as the Captain continued to educate himself on his new command.

      Late in the forenoon of Thursday, April 11th, the Titanic came within sight of the Irish Coast. The ship rounded Land's End and turned northwest to cross the St. George's channel before arriving off of Queenstown (now known as Cobh) on the south coast of Ireland at 11:30AM. Here the Titanic anchored some two miles offshore of Roche's point while two tenders, the Ireland and the America, steamed out with more passengers.

      As in Southampton and in Cherbourg, the local presses were welcomed aboard and around the liner. Here Captain Smith and Purser McElroy posed for their photographs.

      Captain Smith then sailed the Titanic west from Ireland and started her journey across the North Atlantic to New York.

      While the passengers relaxed, the crew busied themselves with the ship's routine. Captain Smith would make his rounds of inspection every day at 10:30AM, following a daily meeting at 10AM with the various heads of departments. This was ordained by the White Star Line regulations and was meticulously carried out by the captain.

      Dressed in full uniform with medals, he made his way through all parts of the ship including public areas of all three classes, the dining rooms and galleys, the bakery, the hospital, workshops, and stores until finally he worked his way down to machinery spaces where he was met and escorted by the Chief Engineer.

      With his inspection of the ship complete, Captain Smith would return to the bridge where he would call the attention to his officers to any points arising from his tour of the ship. He would also update himself on the ship's progress, poring over the charts and checking the ship's position. He might also receive and read the various radio messages directed to the ship or himself, or checked over general messages broadcast by other vessels within range.

      Contrary to popular belief, Captain Smith did not preside over the head of a large table filled with prominent passengers. Rather, he most frequently occupied a table for six at the forward end of the first class dining saloon's center section. In bad weather, or when entering or leaving port, he did not dine in public, preferring to take his meals on the bridge or in his own quarters, served by his personal steward, Arthur Paintin.

      On Saturday, the 13th of April, Elizabeth Lines, whose husband was medical director of the New York Life Insurance Company, stopped for coffee after lunch, as was already her custom, in the reception room on D-deck. Soon after she had taken a seat, Captain Smith and Bruce Ismay entered and sat down at a table only a few feet from hers. She stated that she heard the two men discussing the latest day's run and that the Titanic still had over three days in which to increase her speed and to cross the ocean in less time than her sister ship. Ismay was confident that this could be done and had insisted that the Captain speed up the ship. Later, Ismay would deny that this conversation ever took place.

      On Saturday, the troublesome fire in number six boiler-room had finally been extinguished. The ship now sailed into Sunday, the 14th of April.

      Sunday was the one day of the week that the captain was not required to make a detailed tour of inspection. But any thoughts of a quiet morning, however, was ruined as early as 9AM when the ship received a two day old wireless message from Captain Barr of the Cunarder Caronia, which was journeying east from New York to Liverpool. It read: "Captain Titanic - Westbound steamers report bergs, growlers, and field ice in 42 degrees North from 49 degrees to 51 degrees West. April 12. Compliments, Barr". A growler is a nautical term for a small iceberg.

      After reading the message, which was delivered to him on the bridge, Captain Smith had it posted for his officers. Then at 10:30AM he led a religious service in the first-class dining saloon. The service was not from the Church of England's "Book of Common Prayer", but rather, from the company's own prayer book. All present joined in the hymn "Eternal Father, Strong to Save" which ends with "Oh hear us when we cry to thee for those in peril on the sea." The service ended at 11AM.

      At 1:40PM, an incoming message from the Baltic said "Captain Smith, Titanic, have had moderate variable winds and clear fine weather since leaving. Greek liner Athinai reports passing icebergs and large quantity of field ice today in latitude 41.51 North, longitude 49.52 west." The Baltic's message was immediately given to Captain Smith, who rather than turn it over to the officers on watch, carried it with him as he headed to A-Deck.

      As Smith walked aft along the promenade, he encountered Bruce Ismay, who was conversing with George and Eleanor Widener. According to Ismay's later testimony, Smith handed him the ice warning from the Baltic without comment. Ismay merely glanced at it, put it in his pocket, and a moment later went below.