SINKING OF THE TITANIC
AND GREAT SEA DISASTERS
By Various
Edited by Logan Marshall
Pre-Frontispiece Caption: THE TITANIC
The largest and finest steamship in the world; on her maiden voyage,
loaded with a human freight of over 2,300 souls, she collided with a
huge iceberg 600 miles southeast of Halifax, at 11.40 P.M. Sunday April
14, 1912, and sank two and a half hours later, carrying over 1,600 of
her passengers and crew with her.Frontispiece Caption: CAPTAIN E. J. SMITH
Of the ill-fated giant of the sea; a brave and seasoned commander who
was carried to his death with his last and greatest ship.Sinking of the Titanic and Great Sea Disasters
A Detailed and Accurate Account of the Most Awful Marine Disaster in
History, Constructed from the Real Facts as Obtained from Those on Board
Who Survived……….ONLY AUTHORITATIVE BOOK
INCLUDING Records of Previous Great Disasters of the Sea, Descriptions
of the Developments of Safety and Life-saving Appliances, a Plain
Statement of the Causes of Such Catastrophes and How to Avoid Them, the
Marvelous Development of Shipbuilding, etc.With a Message of Spiritual Consolation by REV. HENRY VAN DYKE, D.D.
EDITED BY LOGAN MARSHALL
Author of “Life of Theodore Roosevelt,” etc.
ILLUSTRATED With Numerous Authentic Photographs and Drawings
Dedication
To the 1635 souls who were lost with the ill-fated Titanic, and
especially to those heroic men, who, instead of trying to save
themselves, stood aside that women and children might have their chance;
of each of them let it be written, as it was written of a Greater One—”He
Died that Others might Live”“I stood in unimaginable trance
And agony that cannot be
remembered.”—COLERIDGE
Dr. Van Dyke’s Spiritual Consolation to the Survivors of the Titanic
The Titanic, greatest of ships, has gone to her ocean grave. What has she
left behind her? Think clearly.
She has left debts. Vast sums of money have been lost. Some of them are
covered by insurance which will be paid. The rest is gone. All wealth is
insecure.
She has left lessons. The risk of running the northern course when it is
menaced by icebergs is revealed. The cruelty of sending a ship to sea
without enough life-boats and life-rafts to hold her company is exhibited
and underlined in black.
She has left sorrows. Hundreds of human hearts and homes are in mourning
for the loss of dear companions and friends. The universal sympathy which
is written in every face and heard in every voice proves that man is more
than the beasts that perish. It is an evidence of the divine in humanity.
Why should we care? There is no reason in the world, unless there is
something in us that is different from lime and carbon and phosphorus,
something that makes us mortals able to suffer together—
But there is more than this harvest of debts, and lessons, and sorrows, in
the tragedy of the sinking of the Titanic. There is a great ideal. It is
clearly outlined and set before the mind and heart of the modern world, to
approve and follow, or to despise and reject.
It is, “Women and children first!”
Whatever happened on that dreadful April night among the arctic ice,
certainly that was the order given by the brave and steadfast captain;
certainly that was the law obeyed by the men on the doomed ship. But why?
There is no statute or enactment of any nation to enforce such an order.
There is no trace of such a rule to be found in the history of ancient
civilizations. There is no authority for it among the heathen races
to-day. On a Chinese ship, if we may believe the report of an official
representative, the rule would have been “Men First, children next, and
women last.”
There is certainly no argument against this barbaric rule on physical or
material grounds. On the average, a man is stronger than a woman, he is
worth more than a woman, he has a longer prospect of life than a woman.
There is no reason in all the range of physical and economic science, no
reason in all the philosophy of the Superman, why he should give his place
in the life-boat to a woman.
Where, then, does this rule which prevailed in the sinking Titanic come
from? It comes from God, through the faith of Jesus of Nazareth.
It is the ideal of self-sacrifice. It is the rule that “the strong ought
to bear the infirmities of those that are weak.” It is the divine
revelation which is summed up in the words: “Greater love hath no man than
this, that a man lay down his life for his friends.”
It needs a tragic catastrophe like the wreck of the Titanic to bring out
the absolute contradiction between this ideal and all the counsels of
materialism and selfish expediency.
I do not say that the germ of this ideal may not be found in other
religions. I do not say that they are against it. I do not ask any man to
accept my theology (which grows shorter and simpler as I grow older),
unless his heart leads him to it. But this I say: The ideal that the
strength of the strong is given them to protect and save the weak, the
ideal which animates the rule of “Women and children first,” is in
essential harmony with the spirit of Christ.
If what He said about our Father in Heaven is true, this ideal is
supremely reasonable. Otherwise it is hard to find arguments for it. The
tragedy of facts sets the question clearly before us. Think about it. Is
this ideal to survive and prevail in our civilization or not?
Without it, no doubt, we may have riches and power and dominion. But what
a world to live in!
Only through the belief that the strong are bound to protect and save the
weak because God wills it so, can we hope to keep self-sacrifice, and
love, and heroism, and all the things that make us glad to live and not
afraid to die.
HENRY VAN DYKE.
PRINCETON, N. J., April 18, 1912.
CONTENTS
FACTS ABOUT THE WRECK OF THE TITANIC
CHAPTER I. FIRST NEWS OF THE GREATEST MARINE
DISASTER IN HISTORYCHAPTER II. THE MOST SUMPTUOUS PALACE AFLOAT
CHAPTER III. THE MAIDEN VOYAGE OF THE TITANIC
CHAPTER IV. SOME OF THE NOTABLE PASSENGERS
CHAPTER V. THE TITANIC STRIKES AN ICEBERG!
CHAPTER VI. “WOMEN AND CHILDREN FIRST!”
CHAPTER VII. LEFT TO THEIR FATE
CHAPTER VIII. THE CALL FOR HELP HEARD
CHAPTER IX. IN THE DRIFTING LIFE-BOATS
CHAPTER X. ON BOARD THE CARPATHIA
CHAPTER XI. PREPARATIONS ON LAND TO RECEIVE THE
SUFFERERSCHAPTER XII. THE TRAGIC HOME-COMING
LIST OF SURVIVORS—SECOND CABIN
CHAPTER XIII. THE STORY OF CHARLES F. HURD
CHAPTER XIV. THRILLING ACCOUNT BY L. BEASLEY
CHAPTER XV. JACK THAYER’S OWN STORY OF THE
WRECKCHAPTER XVI. INCIDENTS RELATED BY JAMES McGOUGH
CHAPTER XVII. WIRELESS OPERATOR PRAISES HEROIC
WORKCHAPTER XVIII. STORY OF THE STEWARD
CHAPTER XIX. HOW THE WORLD RECEIVED THE NEWS
CHAPTER XX. BRAVERY OF THE OFFICERS AND CREW
CHAPTER XXI. SEARCHING FOR THE DEAD
CHAPTER XXII. CRITICISM OF ISMAY
CHAPTER XXIII. THE FINANCIAL LOSS
CHAPTER XXIV. OPINIONS OF EXPERTS
CHAPTER XXV. OTHER GREAT MARINE DISASTERS
CHAPTER XXVI. DEVELOPMENT OF SHIPBUILDING
CHAPTER XXVII. SAFETY AND LIFE-SAVING DEVICES
DETAILED CONTENTS
CHAPTER I FIRST NEWS OF THE GREATEST MARINE DISASTER IN HISTORY
“The Titanic in collision, but everybody safe”—Another triumph set
down to wireless telegraphy—The world goes to sleep
peacefully—The sad
awakening
CHAPTER II THE MOST
SUMPTUOUS PALACE AFLOAT
Dimensions of the Titanic—Capacity—Provisions
for the comfort
and entertainment of passengers—Mechanical
equipment—The army of
attendants required
CHAPTER III
THE MAIDEN VOYAGE OF THE TITANIC
Preparations for the voyage—Scenes
of gayety—The boat sails—Incidents
of the voyage—A
collision narrowly averted—The boat on fire—Warned of
icebergs
CHAPTER IV SOME OF THE NOTABLE PASSENGERS
Sketches
of prominent men and women on board, including Major Archibald
Butt, John Jacob Astor, Benjamin Guggenheim, Isidor Straus, J. Bruce
Ismay, Geo. D. Widener, Colonel Washington Roebling, 2d, Charles
M.
Hays, W. T. Stead and others
CHAPTER V THE TITANIC
STRIKES AN ICEBERG!
Tardy attention to warning responsible for
accident—The danger not
realized at first—An
interrupted card game—Passengers joke among
themselves—The
real truth dawns—Panic on board—Wireless calls for
help.
CHAPTER VI “WOMEN AND CHILDREN FIRST”
Cool-headed
officers and crew bring order out of chaos—Filling the
life-boats—Heartrending scenes as families are parted—Four
life-boats
lost—Incidents of bravery—”The boats are
all filled!”
CHAPTER VII LEFT TO THEIR FATE
Coolness and
heroism of those left to perish—Suicide of
Murdock—Captain
Smith’s end—The ship’s band plays a noble hymn as the
vessel
goes down.
CHAPTER VIII THE CALL FOR HELP HEARD
The value of
the wireless—Other ships alter their course—Rescuers on
the way.
CHAPTER IX IN THE DRIFTING LIFE-BOATS
Sorrow
and suffering—The survivors see the Titanic go down with their
loved ones on board—A night of agonizing suspense—Women
help to
row—Help arrives—Picking up the life-boats.
CHAPTER X ON BOARD THE CARPATHIA
Aid for the suffering and
hysterical—Burying the dead—Vote of
thanks to Captain
Rostron of the Carpathia—Identifying those
saved—Communicating
with land—The passage to New York.
CHAPTER XI PREPARATIONS
ON LAND TO RECEIVE THE SUFFERERS
Police arrangements—Donations
of money and supplies—Hospital and
ambulances made ready—Private
houses thrown open—Waiting for the
Carpathia to arrive—The
ship sighted!
CHAPTER XII THE TRAGIC HOME-COMING
The
Carpathia reaches New York—An intense and dramatic
moment—Hysterical
reunions and crushing disappointments at the
dock—Caring for
the sufferers—Final realization that all hope for
others is
futile—List of survivors—Roll of the dead.
CHAPTER
XIII THE STORY OF CHARLES F. HURD
How the Titanic sank—Water
strewn with dead bodies—Victims met death
with hymn on their
lips.
CHAPTER XIV THRILLING ACCOUNT BY L. BEASLEY
Collision
only a slight jar—Passengers could not believe the vessel
doomed—Narrow escape of life-boats—Picked up by the
Carpathia.
CHAPTER XV JACK THAYER’S OWN STORY OF THE WRECK
Seventeen-year-old son of Pennsylvania Railroad official tells
moving story of his rescue—Told mother to be brave—Separated
from
parents—Jumped when vessel sank—Drifted on
overturned boat—Picked up
by Carpathia.
CHAPTER XVI
INCIDENTS RELATED BY JAMES McGOUGH
Women forced into the
life-boats—Why some men were saved before
women—Asked
to man life-boats.
CHAPTER XVII WIRELESS OPERATOR PRAISES HEROIC
WORK
Story of Harold Bride, the surviving wireless operator of the
Titanic,
who was washed overboard and rescued by life-boat—Band
played ragtime
and “Autumn”.
CHAPTER XVIII STORY OF THE
STEWARD
Passengers and crew dying when taken aboard Carpathia—One
woman saved
a dog—English colonel swam for hours when boat
with mother aboard
capsized.
CHAPTER XIX HOW THE WORLD
RECEIVED THE NEWS
Nations prostrate with grief—Messages from
kings and
cardinals—Disaster stirs world to necessity of
stricter regulations.
CHAPTER XX BRAVERY OF THE OFFICERS AND CREW
Illustrious career of Captain E. J. Smith—Brave to the
last—Maintenance of order and discipline—Acts of heroism—Engineers
died at posts—Noble-hearted band.
CHAPTER XXI
SEARCHING FOR THE DEAD
Sending out the Mackay-Bennett and Minia—Bremen
passengers see
bodies—Identifying bodies—Confusion in
names—Recoveries.
CHAPTER XXII CRITICISM OF ISMAY
Criminal and cowardly conduct charged—Proper caution not exercised
when
presence of icebergs was known—Should have stayed on
board to help
in work of rescue—Selfish and unsympathetic
actions on board the
Carpathia—Ismay’s defense—William
E. Carter’s statement.
CHAPTER XXIII THE FINANCIAL LOSS
Titanic not fully insured—Valuable cargo and mail—No chance
for
salvage—Life insurance loss—Loss to the Carpathia.
CHAPTER XXIV OPINIONS OF EXPERTS
Captain E. K. Roden, Lewis
Nixon, General Greely and Robert H. Kirk
point out lessons taught
by Titanic disaster and needed changes in
construction.
CHAPTER XXV OTHER GREAT MARINE DISASTERS.
Deadly danger of
icebergs—Dozens of ships perish in collision—Other
disasters.
CHAPTER XXVI DEVELOPMENT OF SHIPBUILDING
Evolution of water travel—Increases in size of vessels—Is
there any
limit?—Achievements in speed—Titanic not the
last word.
CHAPTER XXVII SAFETY AND LIFE-SAVING DEVICES
Wireless telegraphy—Water-tight bulkheads—Submarine
signals—Life-boats and rafts—Nixon’s pontoon—Life-preservers
and
buoys—Rockets.
CHAPTER XXVIII TIME FOR REFLECTION
AND REFORM
Speed and luxury overemphasized—Space needed for
life-boats devoted to
swimming pools and squash-courts—Mania
for speed records compels use of
dangerous routes and prevents
proper caution in foggy weather—Life
more valuable than
luxury—Safety more important than speed—An aroused
public opinion necessary—International conference recommended—Adequate
life-saving equipment should be compulsory—Speed regulations
in bad
weather—Co-operation in arranging schedules to keep
vessels within
reach of each other—Legal regulations.
CHAPTER XXIX THE SENATORIAL INVESTIGATION
Prompt action of the
Government—Senate committee probes disaster and
brings out
details—Testimony of Ismay, officers, crew passengers and
other witnesses.
FACTS ABOUT THE WRECK OF THE TITANIC
NUMBER of persons aboard, 2340. Number of life-boats and rafts, 20.
Capacity of each life-boat, 50 passengers and crew of 8. Utmost capacity
of life-boats and rafts, about 1100. Number of life-boats wrecked in
launching, 4. Capacity of life-boats safely launched, 928. Total number of
persons taken in life-boats, 711. Number who died in life-boats, 6. Total
number saved, 705. Total number of Titanic’s company lost, 1635.
The cause of the disaster was a collision with an iceberg in latitude
41.46 north, longitude 50.14 west. The Titanic had had repeated warnings
of the presence of ice in that part of the course. Two official warnings
had been received defining the position of the ice fields. It had been
calculated on the Titanic that she would reach the ice fields about 11
o’clock Sunday night. The collision occurred at 11.40. At that time the
ship was driving at a speed of 21 to 23 knots, or about 26 miles, an hour.
There had been no details of seamen assigned to each boat.
Some of the boats left the ship without seamen enough to man the oars.
Some of the boats were not more than half full of passengers.
The boats had no provisions, some of them had no water stored, some were
without sail equipment or compasses.
In some boats, which carried sails wrapped and bound, there was not a
person with a knife to cut the ropes. In some boats the plugs in the
bottom had been pulled out and the women passengers were compelled to
thrust their hands into the holes to keep the boats from filling and
sinking.
The captain, E. J. Smith, admiral of the White Star fleet, went down with
his ship.
CHAPTER I. FIRST NEWS OF THE GREATEST MARINE DISASTER IN HISTORY
“THE TITANIC IN COLLISION, BUT EVERYBODY SAFE”—ANOTHER TRIUMPH SET
DOWN TO WIRELESS TELEGRAPHY—THE WORLD GOES TO SLEEP PEACEFULLY—THE
SAD AWAKENING.
LIKE a bolt out of a clear sky came the wireless message on Monday, April
15, 1912, that on Sunday night the great Titanic, on her maiden voyage
across the Atlantic, had struck a gigantic iceberg, but that all the
passengers were saved. The ship had signaled her distress and another
victory was set down to wireless. Twenty-one hundred lives saved!
Additional news was soon received that the ship had collided with a
mountain of ice in the North Atlantic, off Cape Race, Newfoundland, at
10.25 Sunday evening, April 14th. At 4.15 Monday morning the Canadian
Government Marine Agency received a wireless message that the Titanic was
sinking and that the steamers towing her were trying to get her into shoal
water near Cape Race, for the purpose of beaching her.
Wireless despatches up to noon Monday showed that the passengers of the
Titanic were being transferred aboard the steamer Carpathia, a Cunarder,
which left New York, April 13th, for Naples. Twenty boat-loads of the
Titanic’s passengers were said to have been transferred to the Carpathia
then, and allowing forty to sixty persons as the capacity of each
life-boat, some 800 or 1200 persons had already been transferred from the
damaged liner to the Carpathia. They were reported as being taken to
Halifax, whence they would be sent by train to New York.
Another liner, the Parisian, of the Allan Company, which sailed from
Glasgow for Halifax on April 6th, was said to be close at hand and
assisting in the work of rescue. The Baltic, Virginian and Olympic were
also near the scene, according to the information received by wireless.
While badly damaged, the giant vessel was reported as still afloat, but
whether she could reach port or shoal water was uncertain. The White Star
officials declared that the Titanic was in no immediate danger of sinking,
because of her numerous water-tight compartments.
“While we are still lacking definite information,” Mr. Franklin,
vice-president of the White Star Line, said later in the afternoon, “we
believe the Titanic’s passengers will reach Halifax, Wednesday evening. We
have received no further word from Captain Haddock, of the Olympic, or
from any of the ships in the vicinity, but are confident that there will
be no loss of life.”
With the understanding that the survivors would be taken to Halifax the
line arranged to have thirty Pullman cars, two diners and many passenger
coaches leave Boston Monday night for Halifax to get the passengers after
they were landed. Mr. Franklin made a guess that the Titanic’s passengers
would get into Halifax on Wednesday. The Department of Commerce and Labor
notified the White Star Line that customs and immigration inspectors would
be sent from Montreal to Halifax in order that there would be as little
delay as possible in getting the passengers on trains.
Monday night the world slept in peace and assurance. A wireless message
had finally been received, reading:
“All Titanic’s passengers safe.”
It was not until nearly a week later that the fact was discovered that
this message had been wrongly received in the confusion of messages
flashing through the air, and that in reality the message should have
read:
“Are all Titanic’s passengers safe?”
With the dawning of Tuesday morning came the awful news of the true fate
of the Titanic.
CHAPTER II. THE MOST SUMPTUOUS PALACE AFLOAT
DIMENSIONS OF THE TITANIC—CAPACITY—PROVISIONS FOR THE COMFORT
AND ENTERTAINMENT OF PASSENGERS—MECHANICAL EQUIPMENT THE ARMY OF
ATTENDANTS REQUIRED.
THE statistical record of the great ship has news value at this time.
Early in 1908 officials of the White Star Company announced that they
would eclipse all previous records in shipbuilding with a vessel of
staggering dimensions. The Titanic resulted.
The keel of the ill-fated ship was laid in the summer of 1909 at the
Harland & Wolff yards, Belfast. Lord Pirrie, considered one of the
best authorities on shipbuilding in the world, was the designer. The
leviathan was launched on May 31, 1911, and was completed in February,
1912, at a cost of $10,000,000.
SISTER SHIP OF OLYMPIC
The Titanic, largest liner in commission, was a sister ship of the
Olympic. The registered tonnage of each vessel is estimated as 45,000, but
officers of the White Star Line say that the Titanic measured 45,328 tons.
The Titanic was commanded by Captain E. J. Smith, the White Star admiral,
who had previously been on the Olympic.
She was 882 1/2 long, or about four city blocks, and was 5000 tons bigger
than a battleship twice as large as the dreadnought Delaware.
Like her sister ship, the Olympic, the Titanic was a four-funneled vessel,
and had eleven decks. The distance from the keel to the top of the funnels
was 175 feet. She had an average speed of twenty-one knots.
The Titanic could accommodate 2500 passengers. The steamship was divided
into numerous compartments, separated by fifteen bulkheads. She was
equipped with a gymnasium, swimming pool, hospital with operating room,
and a grill and palm garden.
CARRIED CREW OF 860
The registered tonnage was 45,000, and the displacement tonnage 66,000.
She was capable of carrying 2500 passengers and the crew numbered 860.
The largest plates employed in the hull were 36 feet long, weighing 43 1/2
tons each, and the largest steel beam used was 92 feet long, the weight of
this double beam being 4 tons. The rudder, which was operated
electrically, weighed 100 tons, the anchors 15 1/2 tons each, the center
(turbine) propeller 22 tons, and each of the two “wing” propellers 38 tons
each. The after “boss-arms,” from which were sus-pended the three
propeller shafts, tipped the scales at 73 1/2 tons, and the forward
“boss-arms” at 45 tons. Each link in the anchor-chains weighed 175 pounds.
There were more than 2000 side-lights and windows to light the public
rooms and passenger cabins.
Nothing was left to chance in the construction of the Titanic. Three
million rivets (weighing 1200 tons) held the solid plates of steel
together. To insure stability in binding the heavy plates in the double
bottom, half a million rivets, weighing about 270 tons, were used.
All the plating of the hulls was riveted by hydraulic power, driving
seven-ton riveting machines, suspended from traveling cranes. The double
bottom extended the full length of the vessel, varying from 5 feet 3
inches to 6 feet 3 inches in depth, and lent added strength to the hull.
MOST LUXURIOUS STEAMSHIP
Not only was the Titanic the largest steamship afloat but it was the most
luxurious. Elaborately furnished cabins opened onto her eleven decks, and
some of these decks were reserved as private promenades that were engaged
with the best suites. One of these suites was sold for $4350 for the
boat’s maiden and only voyage. Suites similar, but which were without the
private promenade decks, sold for $2300.
The Titanic differed in some respects from her sister ship. The Olympic
has a lower promenade deck, but in the Titanic’s case the staterooms were
brought out flush with the outside of the superstructure, and the rooms
themselves made much larger. The sitting rooms of some of the suites on
this deck were 15 x 15 feet.
The restaurant was much larger than that of the Olympic and it had a
novelty in the shape of a private promenade deck on the starboard side, to
be used exclusively by its patrons. Adjoining it was a reception room,
where hosts and hostesses could meet their guests.
Two private promenades were connected with the two most luxurious suites
on the ship. The suites were situated about amidships, one on either side
of the vessel, and each was about fifty feet long. One of the suites
comprised a sitting room, two bedrooms and a bath.
These private promenades were expensive luxuries. The cost figured out
something like forty dollars a front foot for a six days’ voyage. They,
with the suites to which they are attached, were the most expensive
transatlantic accommodations yet offered.
THE ENGINE ROOM
The engine room was divided into two sections, one given to the
reciprocating engines and the other to the turbines. There were two sets
of the reciprocating kind, one working each of the wing propellers through
a four-cylinder triple expansion, direct acting inverted engine. Each set
could generate 15,000 indicated horse-power at seventy-five revolutions a
minute. The Parsons type turbine takes steam from the reciprocating
engines, and by developing a horse-power of 16,000 at 165 revolutions a
minute works the third of the ship’s propellers, the one directly under
the rudder. Of the four funnels of the vessel three were connected with
the engine room, and the fourth or after funnel for ventilating the ship
including the gallery.
Practically all of the space on the Titanic below the upper deck was
occupied by steam-generating plant, coal bunkers and propelling machinery.
Eight of the fifteen water-tight compartments contained the mechanical
part of the vessel. There were, for instance, twenty-four double end and
five single end boilers, each 16 feet 9 inches in diameter, the larger 20
feet long and the smaller 11 feet 9 inches long. The larger boilers had
six fires under each of them and the smaller three furnaces. Coal was
stored in bunker space along the side of the ship between the lower and
middle decks, and was first shipped from there into bunkers running all
the way across the vessel in the lowest part. From there the stokers
handed it into the furnaces.
One of the most interesting features of the vessel was the refrigerating
plant, which comprised a huge ice-making and refrigerating machine and a
number of provision rooms on the after part of the lower and orlop decks.
There were separate cold rooms for beef, mutton, poultry, game, fish,
vegetables, fruit, butter, bacon, cheese, flowers, mineral water, wine,
spirits and champagne, all maintained at different temperatures most
suitable to each. Perishable freight had a compartment of its own, also
chilled by the plant.
COMFORT AND STABILITY
Two main ideas were carried out in the Titanic. One was comfort and the
other stability. The vessel was planned to be an ocean ferry. She was to
have only a speed of twenty-one knots, far below that of some other modern
vessels, but she was planned to make that speed, blow high or blow low, so
that if she left one side of the ocean at a given time she could be relied
on to reach the other side at almost a certain minute of a certain hour.
One who has looked into modern methods for safeguarding
{illust. caption = LIFE-BOAT AND DAVITS ON THE TITANIC
This diagram shows very clearly the arrangement of the life-boats and the
manner in which they were launched.}
a vessel of the Titanic type can hardly imagine an accident that could
cause her to founder. No collision such as has been the fate of any ship
in recent years, it has been thought up to this time, could send her down,
nor could running against an iceberg do it unless such an accident were
coupled with the remotely possible blowing out of a boiler. She would sink
at once, probably, if she were to run over a submerged rock or derelict in
such manner that both her keel plates and her double bottom were torn away
for more than half her length; but such a catastrophe was so remotely
possible that it did not even enter the field of conjecture.
The reason for all this is found in the modern arrangement of water-tight
steel compartments into which all ships now are divided and of which the
Titanic had fifteen so disposed that half of them, including the largest,
could be flooded without impairing the safety of the vessel. Probably it
was the working of these bulkheads and the water-tight doors between them
as they are supposed to work that saved the Titanic from foundering when
she struck the iceberg.
These bulkheads were of heavy sheet steel and started at the very bottom
of the ship and extended right up to the top side. The openings in the
bulkheads were just about the size of the ordinary doorway, but the doors
did not swing as in a house, but fitted into water-tight grooves above the
opening. They could be released instantly in several ways, and once closed
formed a barrier to the water as solid as the bulkhead itself.
In the Titanic, as in other great modern ships, these doors were held in
place above the openings by friction clutches. On the bridge was a switch
which connected with an electric magnet at the side of the bulkhead
opening. The turning of this switch caused the magnet to draw down a heavy
weight, which instantly released the friction clutch, and allowed the door
to fall or slide down over the opening in a second. If, however, through
accident the bridge switch was rendered useless the doors would close
automatically in a few seconds. This was arranged by means of large metal
floats at the side of the doorways, which rested just above the level of
the double bottom, and as the water entered the compartments these floats
would rise to it and directly release the clutch holding the door open.
These clutches could also be released by hand.
It was said of the Titanic that liner compartments could be flooded as far
back or as far forward as the engine room and she would float, though she
might take on a heavy list, or settle considerably at one end. To provide
against just such an accident as she is said to have encountered she had
set back a good distance from the bows an extra heavy cross partition
known as the collision bulkhead, which would prevent water getting in
amidships, even though a good part of her bow should be torn away. What a
ship can stand and still float was shown a few years ago when the Suevic
of the White Star Line went on the rocks on the British coast. The
wreckers could not move the forward part of her, so they separated her
into two sections by the use of dynamite, and after putting in a temporary
bulkhead floated off the after half of the ship, put it in dry dock and
built a new forward part for her. More recently the battleship Maine, or
what was left of her, was floated out to sea, and kept on top of the water
by her water-tight compartments only.
CHAPTER III. THE MAIDEN VOYAGE OF THE TITANIC
PREPARATIONS FOR THE VOYAGE—SCENES OF GAYETY—THE BOAT SAILS—INCIDENTS
OF THE VOYAGE—-A COLLISION NARROWLY AVERTED—THE BOAT ON FIRE—WARNED
OF ICEBERGS.
EVER was ill-starred voyage more auspiciously begun than when the Titanic,
newly crowned empress of the seas, steamed majestically out of the port of
Southampton at noon on Wednesday, April 10th, bound for New York.
Elaborate preparations had been made for the maiden voyage. Crowds of
eager watchers gathered to witness the departure, all the more interested
because of the notable people who were to travel aboard her. Friends and
relatives of many of the passengers were at the dock to bid Godspeed to
their departing loved ones. The passengers themselves were unusually gay
and happy.
Majestic and beautiful the ship rested on the water, marvel of
shipbuilding, worthy of any sea. As this new queen of the ocean moved
slowly from her dock, no one questioned her construction: she was fitted
with an elaborate system of
{illust. caption = STEAMER “TITANIC” COMPARED WITH THE LARGEST STRUCTURES
IN THE WORLD 1. Bunker Hill Monument. Boston, 221 feet high. 2. Public
{illust. caption = J. BRUCE ISMAY
Managing director of the International Mercantile Marine, and managing
director of the White….}
{illust. caption = CHARLES M. HAYS
President of the Grand Trunk Pacific Railways, numbered among the heroic
men….}
water-tight compartments, calculated to make her unsinkable; she had been
pronounced the safest as well as the most sumptuous Atlantic liner afloat.
There was silence just before the boat pulled out—the silence that
usually precedes the leave-taking. The heavy whistles sounded and the
splendid Titanic, her flags flying and her band playing, churned the water
and plowed heavily away.
Then the Titanic, with the people on board waving handkerchiefs and
shouting good-byes that could be heard only as a buzzing murmur on shore,
rode away on the ocean, proudly, majestically, her head up and, so it
seemed, her shoulders thrown back. If ever a vessel seemed to throb with
proud life, if ever a monster of the sea seemed to “feel its oats” and
strain at the leash, if ever a ship seemed to have breeding and blue blood
that would keep it going until its heart broke, that ship was the Titanic.
And so it was only her due that as the Titanic steamed out of the harbor
bound on her maiden voyage a thousand “God-speeds” were wafted after her,
while every other vessel that she passed, the greatest of them dwarfed by
her colossal proportions, paid homage to the new queen regnant with the
blasts of their whistles and the shrieking of steam sirens.
THE SHIP’S CAPTAIN
In command of the Titanic was Captain E. J. Smith, a veteran of the seas,
and admiral of the White Star Line fleet. The next six officers, in the
order of their rank, were Murdock, Lightollder,{sic} Pitman, Boxhall, Lowe
and Moody. Dan Phillips was chief wireless operator, with Harold Bride as
assistant.
From the forward bridge, fully ninety feet above the sea, peered out the
benign face of the ship’s master, cool of aspect, deliberate of action,
impressive in that quality of confidence that is bred only of long
experience in command.
From far below the bridge sounded the strains of the ship’s orchestra,
playing blithely a favorite air from “The Chocolate Soldier.” All went as
merry as a wedding bell. Indeed, among that gay ship’s company were two
score or more at least for whom the wedding bells had sounded in truth not
many days before. Some were on their honeymoon tours, others were
returning to their motherland after having passed the weeks of the
honeymoon, like Colonel John Jacob Astor and his young bride, amid the
diversions of Egypt or other Old World countries.
What daring flight of imagination would have ventured the prediction that
within the span of six days that stately ship, humbled, shattered and torn
asunder, would lie two thousand fathoms deep at the bottom of the
Atlantic, that the benign face that peered from the bridge would be set in
the rigor of death and that the happy bevy of voyaging brides would be
sorrowing widows?
ALMOST IN A COLLISION
The big vessel had, however, a touch of evil fortune before she cleared
the harbor of Southampton. As she passed down stream her immense bulk—she
displaced 66,000 tons—drew the waters after her with an irresistible
suction that tore the American liner New York from her moorings; seven
steel hawsers were snapped like twine. The New York floated toward the
White Star ship, and would have rammed the new ship had not the tugs
Vulcan and Neptune stopped her and towed her back to the quay.
When the mammoth ship touched at Cherbourg and later at Queenstown she was
again the object of a port ovation, the smaller craft doing obeisance
while thousands gazed in wonder at her stupendous proportions. After
taking aboard some additional passengers at each port, the Titanic headed
her towering bow toward the open sea and the race for a record on her
maiden voyage was begun.
NEW BURST OF SPEED EACH DAY
The Titanic made 484 miles as her first day’s run, her powerful new
engines turning over at the rate of seventy revolutions. On the second day
out the speed was hit up to seventy-three revolutions and the run for the
day was bulletined as 519 miles. Still further increasing the speed, the
rate of revolution of the engines was raised to seventy-five and the day’s
run was 549 miles, the best yet scheduled.
But the ship had not yet been speeded to her capacity she was capable of
turning over about seventy-eight revolutions. Had the weather conditions
been propitious, it was intended to press the great racer to the full
limit of her speed on Monday. But for the Titanic Monday never came. FIRE
IN THE COAL BUNKERS
Unknown to the passengers, the Titanic was on fire from the day she sailed
from Southampton. Her officers and crew knew it, for they had fought the
fire for days.
This story, told for the first time by the survivors of the crew, was only
one of the many thrilling tales of the fateful first voyage.
“The Titanic sailed from Southampton on Wednesday, April 10th, at noon,”
said J. Dilley, fireman on the Titanic.
“I was assigned to the Titanic from the Oceanic, where I had served as a
fireman. From the day we sailed the Titanic was on fire, and my sole duty,
together with eleven other men, had been to fight that fire. We had made
no headway against it.”
PASSENGERS IN IGNORANCE
“Of course,” he went on, “the passengers knew nothing of the fire. Do you
think we’d have let them know about it? No, sir.
“The fire started in bunker No. 6. There were hundreds of tons of coal
stored there. The coal on top of the bunker was wet, as all the coal
should have been, but down at the bottom of the bunker the coal had been
permitted to get dry.
“The dry coal at the bottom of the pile took fire, and smoldered for days.
The wet coal on top kept the flames from coming through, but down in the
bottom of the bunkers the flames were raging.
“Two men from each watch of stokers were tolled off, to fight that fire.
The stokers worked four hours at a time, so twelve of us were fighting
flames from the day we put out of Southampton until we hit the iceberg.
“No, we didn’t get that fire out, and among the stokers there was talk
that we’d have to empty the big coal bunkers after we’d put our passengers
off in New York, and then call on the fire-boats there to help us put out
the fire.
“The stokers were alarmed over it, but the officers told us to keep our
mouths shut—they didn’t want to alarm the passengers.”
USUAL DIVERSION
Until Sunday, April 14th, then, the voyage had apparently been a
delightful but uneventful one. The passengers had passed the time in the
usual diversions of ocean travelers, amusing themselves in the luxurious
saloons, promenading on the boat deck, lolling at their ease in steamer
chairs and making pools on the daily runs of the steamship. The smoking
rooms and card rooms had been as well patronized as usual, and a party of
several notorious professional gamblers had begun reaping their usual easy
harvest.
As early as Sunday afternoon the officers of the Titanic must have known
that they were approaching dangerous ice fields of the kind that are a
perennial menace to the safety of steamships following the regular
transatlantic lanes off the Great Banks of Newfoundland.
AN UNHEEDED WARNING
On Sunday afternoon the Titanic’s wireless operator forwarded to the
Hydrographic office in Washington, Baltimore, Philadelphia and elsewhere
the following dispatch:
“April 14.—The German steamship Amerika (Hamburg-American Line)
reports by radio-telegraph passing two large icebergs in latitude 41.27,
longitude 50.08.—Titanic, Br. S. S.”
Despite this warning, the Titanic forged ahead Sunday night at her usual
speed—from twenty-one to twenty-five knots.
CHAPTER IV. SOME OF THE NOTABLE PASSENGERS
SKETCHES OF PROMINENT MEN AND WOMEN ON BOARD, INCLUDING MAJOR ARCHIBALD
BUTT, JOHN JACOB ASTOR, BENJAMIN GUGGENHEIM, ISIDOR STRAWS, J. BRUCE
ISMAY, GEORGE D. WIDENER, COLONEL WASHINGTON ROEBLING, 2D, CHARLES M.
HAYS, W. T. STEAD AND OTHERS
THE ship’s company was of a character befitting the greatest of all
vessels and worthy of the occasion of her maiden voyage. Though the major
part of her passengers were Americans returning from abroad, there were
enrolled upon her cabin lists some of the most distinguished names of
England, as well as of the younger nation. Many of these had purposely
delayed sailing, or had hastened their departure, that they might be among
the first passengers on the great vessel.
There were aboard six men whose fortunes ran into tens of millions,
besides many other persons of international note. Among the men were
leaders in the world of commerce, finance, literature, art and the learned
professions. Many of the women were socially prominent in two hemispheres.
Wealth and fame, unfortunately, are not proof against fate, and most of
these notable personages perished as pitiably as the more humble steerage
passengers.
The list of notables included Colonel John Jacob Astor, head of the Astor
family, whose fortune is estimated at $150,000,000; Isidor Straus,
merchant and banker ($50,000,000); J. Bruce Ismay, managing director of
the International Mercantile Marine ($40,000,000); Benjamin Guggenheim,
head of the Guggenheim family ($95,000,000): George D. Widener, son of P.
A. B. Widener, traction magnate and financier ($5,000,000); Colonel
Washington Roebling, builder of the great Brooklyn Bridge; Charles M.
Hays, president of the Grand Trunk Railway; W. T. Stead. famous publicist;
Jacques Futrelle, journalist; Henry S. Harper, of the firm of Harper &
Bros.; Henry B. Harris, theatrical manager; Major Archibald Butt, military
aide to President Taft; and Francis D. Millet, one of the best-known
American painters.
MAJOR BUTT
Major Archibald Butt, whose bravery on the sinking vessel will not soon be
forgotten, was military aide to President Taft and was known wherever the
President traveled. His recent European mission was apparently to call on
the Pope in behalf of President Taft; for on March 21st he was received at
the Vatican, and presented to the Pope a letter from Mr. Taft thanking the
Pontiff for the creation of three new American Cardinals.
Major Butt had a reputation as a horseman, and it is said he was able to
keep up with President Roosevelt, be the ride ever so far or fast. He was
promoted to the rank of major in 1911. He sailed for the Mediterranean on
March 2d with his friend Francis D. Millet, the artist, who also perished
on the Titanic.
COLONEL ASTOR
John Jacob Astor was returning from a trip to Egypt with his
nineteen-year-old bride, formerly Miss Madeline Force, to whom he was
married in Providence, September 9, 1911. He was head of the family whose
name he bore and one of the world’s wealthiest men. He was not, however,
one of the world’s “idle rich,” for his life of forty-seven years was a
well-filled one. He had managed the family estates since 1891; built the
Astor Hotel, New York; was colonel on the staff of Governor Levi P.
Morton, and in May, 1898, was commissioned colonel of the United States
volunteers. After assisting Major-General Breckinridge, inspector-general
of the United States army, he was assigned to duty on the staff of
Major-General Shafter and served in Cuba during the operations ending in
the surrender of Santiago. He was also the inventor of a bicycle brake, a
pneumatic road-improver, and an improved turbine engine.
BENJAMIN GUGGENHEIM
Next to Colonel Astor in financial importance was Benjamin Guggenheim,
whose father founded the famous house of M. Guggenheim and Sons. When the
various Guggen-heim interests were consolidated into the American Smelting
and Refining Company he retired from active business, although he later
became interested in the Power and Mining Machinery Company of Milwaukee.
In 1894 he married Miss Floretta Seligman, daughter of James Seligman, the
New York banker.
ISIDOR STRAUS
Isidor Straus, whose wife elected to perish with him in the ship, was a
brother of Nathan and Oscar Straus, a partner with Nathan Straus in R. H.
Macy & Co. and L. Straus & Sons, a member of the firm of Abraham
& Straus in Brooklyn, and has been well known in politics and
charitable work. He was a member of the Fifty-third Congress from 1893 to
1895, and as a friend of William L. Wilson was in constant consultation in
the matter of the former Wilson tariff bill.
Mr. Straus was conspicuous for his works of charity and was an ardent
supporter of every enterprise to improve the condition of the Hebrew
immigrants. He was president of the Educational Alliance, vice-president
of the J. Hood Wright Memorial Hospital, a member of the Chamber of
Commerce, on one of the visiting committees of Harvard University, and was
besides a trustee of many financial and philanthropic institutions.
Mr. Straus never enjoyed a college education. He was, however, one of the
best informed men of the day, his information having been derived from
extensive reading. His library, said to be one of the finest and most
extensive in New York, was his pride and his place of special recreation.
{illust. caption = ACTUAL PHOTOGRAPH OF THE ICEBERG THAT SUNK THE TITANIC
Lady Duff Gordon, a prominent English woman who was aboard the…}
{illust. caption = HEART-BREAKING FAREWELLS
Both men and women were loaded into the first boats, but soon the cry of
“Women first” was raised. Then came the real note of tragedy. Husbands and
wives clung to each other in farewell; some refused to be separated.}
GEORGE D. WIDENER
The best known of Philadelphia passengers aboard the Titanic were Mr. and
Mrs. George D. Widener. Mr. Widener was a son of Peter A. B. Widener and,
like his father, was recognized as one of the foremost financiers of
Philadelphia as well as a leader in society there. Mr. Widener married
Miss Eleanor Elkins, a daughter of the late William L. Elkins. They made
their home with his father at the latter’s fine place at Eastbourne, ten
miles from Philadelphia. Mr. Widener was keenly interested in horses and
was a constant exhibitor at horse shows. In business he was recognized as
his father’s chief adviser in managing the latter’s extensive traction
interests. P. A. B. Widener is a director of the International Mercantile
Marine.
Mrs. Widener is said to be the possessor of one of the finest collections
of jewels in the world, the gift of her husband. One string of pearls in
this collection was reported to be worth $250,000.
The Wideners went abroad two months previous to the disaster, Mr. Widener
desiring to inspect some of his business interests on the other side. At
the opening of the London Museum by King George on March 21st last it was
announced that Mrs. Widener had presented to the museum thirty silver
plates once the property of Nell Gwyn. Mr. Widener is survived by a
daughter, Eleanor, and a son, George D. Widener, Jr. Harry Elkins Widener
was with his parents and went down on the ship.
COLONEL ROEBLING
Colonel Washington Augustus Roebling was president of the John A. Roebling
Sons’ Company, manufacturers of iron and steel wire rope. He served in the
Union Army from 1861 to 1865, resigning to assist his father in the
construction of the Cincinnati and Covington suspension bridge. At the
death of his father in 1869 he took entire charge of the construction of
the Brooklyn Bridge, and it is to his genius that the success of that
great work may be said to be due.
WILLIAM T. STEAD
One of the most notable of the foreign passengers was William T. Stead.
Few names are more widely known to the world of contemporary literature
and journalism than that of the brilliant editor of the Review of Reviews.
Matthew Arnold called him “the inventor of the new journalism in England.”
He was on his way to America to take part in the Men and Religion Forward
Movement and was to have delivered an address in Union Square on the
Thursday after the disaster, with William Jennings Bryan as his chief
associate.
Mr. Stead was an earnest advocate of peace and had written many books. His
commentary “If Christ Came to Chicago” raised a storm twenty years ago.
When he was in this country in 1907 he addressed a session of Methodist
clergymen, and at one juncture of the meeting remarked that unless the
Methodists did something about the peace movement besides shouting “amen”
nobody “would care a damn about their amens!”
OTHER ENGLISHMEN ABOARD
Other distinguished Englishmen on the Titanic were Norman C. Craig, M.P.,
Thomas Andrews, a representative of the firm of Harland & Wolff, of
Belfast, the ship’s builders, and J. Bruce Ismay, managing director of the
White Star Line.
J. BRUCE ISMAY
Mr. Ismay is president and one of the founders of the International
Mercantile Marine. He has made it a custom to be a passenger on the maiden
voyage of every new ship built by the White Star Line. It was Mr. Ismay
who, with J. P. Morgan, consolidated the British steamship lines under the
International Mercantile Marine’s control; and it is largely due to his
imagination that such gigantic ships as the Titanic and Olympic were made
possible
JACQUES FUTRELLE
Jacques Futrelle was an author of short stories, some of which have
appeared in the Saturday Evening Post, and of many novels of the same
general type as “The Thinking Machine,” with which he first gained a wide
popularity. Newspaper work, chiefly in Richmond, Va., engaged his
attention from 1890 to 1909, in which year he entered the theatrical
business as a manager. In 1904 he returned to his journalistic career.
HENRY B. HARRIS
Henry B. Harris, the theater manager, had been manager of May Irwin, Peter
Dailey, Lily Langtry, Amelia Bingham, and launched Robert Edeson as star.
He became the manager of the Hudson Theater in 1903 and the Hackett
Theater in 1906. Among his best known productions are “The Lion and the
Mouse,” “The Traveling Salesman” and “The Third Degree.” He was president
of the Henry B. Harris Company controlling the Harris Theater.
Young Harris had a liking for the theatrical business from a boy. Twelve
years ago Mr. Harris married Miss Rene Wallach of Washington. He was said
to have a fortune of between $1,000,000 and $3,000,000. He owned outright
the Hudson and the Harris theaters and had an interest in two other show
houses in New York. He owned three theaters in Chicago, one in Syracuse
and one in Philadelphia.
HENRY S. HARPER
Henry Sleeper Harper, who was among the survivors, is a grandson of John
Wesley Harper, one of the founders of the Harper publishing business. H.
Sleeper Harper was himself an incorporator of Harper & Brothers when
the firm became a corporation in 1896. He had a desk in the offices of the
publishers, but his hand of late years in the management of the business
has been very slight. He has been active in the work of keeping the
Adirondack forests free from aggression. He was in the habit of spending
about half of his time in foreign travel. His friends in New York recalled
that he had a narrow escape about ten years ago when a ship in which he
was traveling ran into an iceberg on the Grand Banks.
FRANCIS DAVID MILLET
Millet was one of the best-known American painters and many of his
canvasses are found in the leading galleries of the world. He served as a
drummer boy with the Sixtieth Massachusetts volunteers in the Civil War,
and from early manhood took a prominent part in public affairs. He was
director of the decorations for the Chicago Exposition and was, at the
time of the disaster, secretary of the American Academy in Rome. He was a
wide traveler and the author of many books, besides translations of
Tolstoi.
CHARLES M. HAYS
Another person of prominence was Charles Melville Hays, president of the
Grand Trunk and the Grand Trunk Pacific railways. He was described by Sir
Wilfrid Laurier at a dinner of the Canadian Club of New York, at the Hotel
Astor last year, as “beyond question the greatest railroad genius in
Canada, as an executive genius ranking second only to the late Edward H.
Harriman.” He was returning aboard the Titanic with his wife and
son-in-law and daughter; Mr. and Mrs. Thornton Davidson, of Montreal.
CHAPTER V. THE TITANIC STRIKES AN ICEBERG!
TARDY ATTENTION TO WARNING RESPONSIBLE FOR ACCIDENT—THE DANGER NOT
REALIZED AT FIRST—AN INTERRUPTED CARD GAME—PASSENGERS JOKE
AMONG THEMSELVES—THE REAL TRUTH DAWNS—PANIC ON BOARD—WIRELESS
CALLS FOR HELP
SUNDAY night the magnificent ocean liner was plunging through a
comparatively placid sea, on the surface of which there was much mushy ice
and here and there a number of comparatively harmless-looking floes. The
night was clear and stars visible. First Officer William T. Murdock was in
charge of the bridge The first intimation of the presence of the iceberg
that he received was from the lookout in the crow’s nest.
Three warnings were transmitted from the crow’s nest of the Titanic to the
officer on the doomed steamship’s bridge 15 minutes before she struck,
according to Thomas Whiteley, a first saloon steward.
Whiteley, who was whipped overboard from the ship by a rope while helping
to lower a life-boat, finally reported on the Carpathia aboard one of the
boats that contained, he said, both the crow’s nest lookouts. He heard a
conversation between them, he asserted, in which they discussed the
warnings given to the Titanic’s bridge of the presence of the iceberg.
Whiteley did not know the names of either of the lookout men and believed
that they returned to England with the majority of the surviving members
of the crew.
{illust. caption = A GRAPHIC ILLUSTRATION OF THE FORCE WITH WHICH A VESSEL
STRIKES AN ICEBERG}
“I heard one of them say that at 11.15 o’clock, 15 minutes before the
Titanic struck, he had reported to First Officer Murdock, on the bridge,
that he fancied he saw an iceberg!” said Whiteley. “Twice after that, the
lookout said, he warned Murdock that a berg was ahead. They were very
indignant that no attention was paid to their warnings.”
TARDY ATTENTION TO WARNING RESPONSIBLE FOR ACCIDENT
Murdock’s tardy answering of a telephone call from the crow’s nest is
assigned by Whiteley as the cause of the disaster.
When Murdock answered the call he received the information that the
iceberg was due ahead. This information was imparted just a few seconds
before the crash, and had the officer promptly answered the ring of the
bell it is probable that the accident could have been avoided, or at
least, been reduced by the lowered speed.
The lookout saw a towering “blue berg” looming up in the sea path of the
Titanic, and called the bridge on the ship’s telephone. When, after the
passing of those two or three fateful minutes an officer on the bridge
lifted the telephone receiver from its hook to answer the lookout, it was
too late. The speeding liner, cleaving a calm sea under a star-studded
sky, had reached the floating mountain of ice, which the theoretically
“unsinkable” ship struck a crashing, if glancing, blow with her starboard
bow.
MURDOCK PAID WITH LIFE
Had Murdock, according to the account of the tragedy given by two of the
Titanic’s seamen, known how imperative was that call from the lookout man,
the men at the wheel of the liner might have swerved the great ship
sufficiently to avoid the berg altogether. At the worst the vessel would
probably have struck the mass of ice with her stern.
Murdock, if the tale of the Titanic sailor be true, expiated his
negligence by shooting himself within sight of all alleged victims huddled
in life-boats or struggling in the icy seas.
When at last the danger was realized, the great ship was so close upon the
berg that it was practically impossible to avoid collision with it
VAIN TRIAL TO CLEAR BERG
The first officer did what other startled and alert commanders would have
done under similar circumstances, that is
{illust. caption = THE LOCATION OF THE DISASTER}
he made an effort by going full speed ahead on the starboard propeller and
reversing his port propeller, simultaneously throwing his helm over, to
make a rapid turn and clear the berg. The maneuver was not successful. He
succeeded in saving his bows from crashing into the ice-cliff, but nearly
the entire length of the underbody of the great ship on the starboard side
was ripped. The speed of the Titanic, estimated to be at least twenty-one
knots, was so terrific that the knife-like edge of the iceberg’s spur
protruding under the sea cut through her like a can-opener.
The Titanic was in 41.46 north latitude and 50.14 west longitude when she
was struck, very near the spot on the wide Atlantic where the Carmania
encountered a field of ice, studded with great bergs, on her voyage to New
York which ended on April 14th. It was really an ice pack, due to an
unusually severe winter in the north Atlantic. No less than twenty-five
bergs, some of great height, were counted.
The shock was almost imperceptible. The first officer did not apparently
realize that the great ship had received her death wound, and none of the
passengers had the slightest suspicion that anything more than a usual
minor sea accident had happened. Hundreds who had gone to their berths and
were asleep were unawakened by the vibration.
BRIDGE GAME NOT DISTURBED
To illustrate the placidity with which practically all the men regarded
the accident it is related that Pierre Marechal, son of the vice-admiral
of the French navy, Lucien Smith, Paul Chevre, a French sculptor, and A.
F. Ormont, a cotton broker, were in the Cafe Parisien playing bridge.
The four calmly got up from the table and after walking on deck and
looking over the rail returned to their game. One of them had left his
cigar on the card table, and while the three others were gazing out on the
sea he remarked that he couldn’t afford to lose his smoke, returned for
his cigar and came out again.
They remained only for a few moments on deck, and then resumed their game
under the impression that the ship had stopped for reasons best known to
the captain and not involving any danger to her. Later, in describing the
scene that took place, M. Marechal, who was among the survivors, said:
“When three-quarters of a mile away we stopped, the spectacle before our
eyes was in its way magnificent. In a very calm sea, beneath a sky
moonless but sown with millions of stars, the enormous Titanic lay on the
water, illuminated from the water line to the boat deck. The bow was
slowly sinking into the black water.”
The tendency of the whole ship’s company except the men in the engine
department, who were made aware of the danger by the inrushing water, was
to make light of and in some instances even to ridicule the thought of
danger to so substantial a fabric.
THE CAPTAIN ON DECK
When Captain Smith came from the chart room onto the bridge, his first
words were, “Close the emergency doors.”
“They’re already closed, sir,” Mr. Murdock replied.
“Send to the carpenter and tell him to sound the ship,” was the next
order. The message was sent to the carpenter, but the carpenter never came
up to report. He was probably the first man on the ship to lose his life.
The captain then looked at the communicator, which shows in what direction
the ship is listing. He saw that she carried five degrees list to
starboard.
The ship was then rapidly settling forward. All the steam sirens were
blowing. By the captain’s orders, given in the next few minutes, the
engines were put to work at pumping out the ship, distress signals were
sent by the Marconi, and rockets were sent up from the bridge by
Quartermaster Rowe. All hands were ordered on deck.
PASSENGERS NOT ALARMED
The blasting shriek of the sirens had not alarmed the great company of the
Titanic, because such steam calls are an incident of travel in seas where
fogs roll. Many had gone to bed, but the hour, 11.40 P. M., was not too
late for the friendly contact of saloons and smoking rooms. It was Sunday
night and the ship’s concert had ended, but there were many hundreds up
and moving among the gay lights, and many on deck with their eyes strained
toward the mysterious west, where home lay. And in one jarring,
breath-sweeping moment all of these, asleep or awake, were at the mercy of
chance. Few among the more than 2000 aboard could have had a thought of
danger. The man who had stood up in the smoking room to say that the
Titanic was vulnerable or that in a few minutes two-thirds of her people
would be face to face with death, would have been considered a fool or a
lunatic. No ship ever sailed the seas that gave her passengers more
confidence, more cool security.
Within a few minutes stewards and other members of the crew were sent
round to arouse the people. Some utterly refused to get up. The stewards
had almost to force the doors of the staterooms to make the somnolent
appreciate their peril, and many of them, it is believed, were drowned
like rats in a trap.
ASTOR AND WIFE STROLLED ON DECK
Colonel and Mrs. Astor were in their room and saw the ice vision flash by.
They had not appreciably felt the gentle shock and supposed that nothing
out of the ordinary had happened. They were both dressed and came on deck
leisurely. William T. Stead, the London journalist, wandered on deck for a
few minutes, stopping to talk to Frank Millet. “What do they say is the
trouble?” he asked. “Icebergs,” was the brief reply. “Well,” said Stead,
“I guess it is nothing serious. I’m going back to my cabin to read.”
From end to end on the mighty boat officers were rushing about without
much noise or confusion, but giving orders sharply. Captain Smith told the
third officer to rush downstairs and see whether the water was coming in
very fast. “And,” he added, “take some armed guards along to see that the
stokers and engineers stay at their posts.”
In two minutes the officer returned. “It looks pretty bad, sir,” he said.
“The water is rushing in and filling the bottom. The locks of the
water-tight compartments have been sprung by the shock.”
“Give the command for all passengers to be on deck with life-belts on.”
Through the length and breadth of the boat, upstairs and downstairs, on
all decks, the cry rang out: “All passengers on deck with
life-preservers.”
A SUDDEN TREMOR OF FEAR
For the first time, there was a feeling of panic. Husbands sought for
wives and children. Families gathered together. Many who were asleep
hastily caught up their clothing and rushed on deck. A moment before the
men had been joking about the life-belts, according to the story told by
Mrs. Vera Dick, of Calgary, Canada. “Try this one,” one man said to her,
“they are the very latest thing this season. Everybody’s wearing them
now.”
Another man suggested to a woman friend, who had a fox terrier in her
arms, that she should put a life-saver on the dog. “It won’t fit,” the
woman replied, laughing. “Make him carry it in his mouth,” said the
friend.
CONFUSION AMONG THE IMMIGRANTS
Below, on the steerage deck, there was intense confusion. About the time
the officers on the first deck gave the order that all men should stand to
one side and all women should go below to deck B, taking the children with
them, a similar order was given to the steerage passengers. The women were
ordered to the front, the men to the rear. Half a dozen healthy, husky
immigrants pushed their way forward and tried to crowd into the first
boat.
“Stand back,” shouted the officers who were manning the boat. “The women
come first.”
Shouting curses in various foreign languages, the immigrant men continued
their pushing and tugging to climb into the boats. Shots rang out. One big
fellow fell over the railing into the water. Another dropped to the deck,
moaning. His jaw had been shot away. This was the story told by the
bystanders afterwards on the pier. One husky Italian told the writer on
the pier that the way in which the men were shot down was horrible. His
sympathy was with the men who were shot.
“They were only trying to save their lives,” he said.
WIRELESS OPERATOR DIED AT HIS POST
On board the Titanic, the wireless operator, with a life-belt about his
waist, was hitting the instrument that was sending out C. Q. D., messages,
“Struck on iceberg, C. Q. D.”
“Shall I tell captain to turn back and help?” flashed a reply from the
Carpathia.
“Yes, old man,” the Titanic wireless operator responded. “Guess we’re
sinking.”
An hour later, when the second wireless man came into the boxlike room to
tell his companion what the situation was, he found a negro stoker
creeping up behind the operator and saw him raise a knife over his head.
He said afterwards—he was among those rescued—that he realized
at once that the negro intended to kill the operator in order to take his
life-belt from him. The second operator pulled out his revolver and shot
the negro dead.
“What was the trouble?” asked the operator.
“That negro was going to kill you and steal your life-belt,” the second
man replied.
“Thanks, old man,” said the operator. The second man went on deck to get
some more information. He was just in time to jump overboard before the
Titanic went down. The wireless operator and the body of the negro who
tried to steal his belt went down together.
On the deck where the first class passengers were quartered, known as deck
A, there was none of the confusion that was taking place on the lower
decks. The Titanic was standing without much rocking. The captain had
given an order and the band was playing.
{illust. caption = WAITING FOR THE NEWS
A Bird’s eye view of the great crowds…}
{illust. caption = WIRELESS STATION AT CAPE RACE
Where the first news of the Titanic disaster was received.}
CHAPTER VI. “WOMEN AND CHILDREN FIRST!”
COOL-HEADED OFFICERS AND CREW BRING ORDER OUT OF CHAOS—FILLING THE
LIFE-BOATS—HEARTRENDING SCENES AS FAMILIES ARE PARTED—FOUR
LIFE-BOATS LOST—INCIDENTS OF BRAVERY—”THE BOATS ARE ALL
FILLED!”
ONCE on the deck, many hesitated to enter the swinging life-boats. Tho
glassy sea, the starlit sky, the absence, in the first few moments, of
intense excitement, gave them the feeling that there was only some slight
mishap; that those who got into the boats would have a chilly half hour
below and might, later, be laughed at.
It was such a feeling as this, from all accounts, which caused John Jacob
Astor and his wife to refuse the places offered them in the first boat,
and to retire to the gymnasium. In the same way H. J. Allison, a Montreal
banker, laughed at the warning, and his wife, reassured by him, took her
time dressing. They and their daughter did not reach the Carpathia. Their
son, less than two years old, was carried into a life-boat by his nurse,
and was taken in charge by Major Arthur Peuchen.
THE LIFE-BOATS LOWERED
The admiration felt by the passengers and crew for the matchlessly
appointed vessel was translated, in those first few moments, into a
confidence which for some proved deadly. The pulsing of the engines had
ceased, and the steamship lay just as though she were awaiting the order
to go on again after some trifling matter had been adjusted. But in a few
minutes the canvas covers were lifted from the life-boats and the crews
allotted to each standing by, ready to lower them to the water.
Nearly all the boats that were lowered on the port side of the ship
touched the water without capsizing. Four of the others lowered to
starboard, including one collapsible, were capsized. All, however, who
were in the collapsible boats that practically went to pieces, were
rescued by the other boats.
Presently the order was heard: “All men stand back and all women retire to
the deck below.” That was the smoking-room deck, or the B deck. The men
stood away and remained in absolute silence, leaning against the rail or
pacing up and down the deck slowly. Many of them lighted cigars or
cigarettes and began to smoke.
LOADING THE BOATS
The boats were swung out and lowered from the A deck above. The women were
marshaled quietly in lines along the B deck, and when the boats were
lowered down to the level of the latter the women were assisted to climb
into them.
As each of the boats was filled with its quota of passengers the word was
given and it was carefully lowered down to the dark surface of the water.
Nobody seemed to know how Mr. Ismay got into a boat, but it was assumed
that he wished to make a presentation of the case of the Titanic to his
company. He was among those who apparently realized that the splendid ship
was doomed. All hands in the life-boats, under instructions from officers
and men in charge, were rowed a considerable distance from the ship
herself in order to get far away from the possible suction that would
follow her foundering.
COOLEST MEN ON BOARD
Captain Smith and Major Archibald Butt, military aide to the President of
the United States, were among the coolest men on board. A number of
steerage passengers were yelling and screaming and fighting to get to the
boats. Officers drew guns and told them that if they moved towards the
boats they would be shot dead. Major Butt had a gun in his hand and
covered the men who tried to get to the boats.
The following story of his bravery was told by Mrs. Henry B. Harris, wife
of the theatrical manager:
“The world should rise in praise of Major Butt. That man’s conduct will
remain in my memory forever. The American army is honored by him and the
way he taught some of the other men how to behave when women and children
were suffering that awful mental fear of death. Major Butt was near me and
I noticed everything that he did.
“When the order to man the boats came, the captain whispered something to
Major Butt. The two of them had become friends. The major immediately
became as one in supreme command. You would have thought he was at a White
House reception. A dozen or more women became hysterical all at once, as
something connected with a life-boat went wrong. Major Butt stepped over
to them and said:
“‘Really, you must not act like that; we are all going to see you through
this thing.’ He helped the sailors rearrange the rope or chain that had
gone wrong and lifted some of the women in with a touch of gallantry. Not
only was there a complete lack of any fear in his manner, but there was
the action of an aristocrat.
“When the time came he was a man to be feared. In one of the earlier boats
fifty women, it seemed, were about to be lowered, when a man, suddenly
panic-stricken, ran to the stern of it. Major Butt shot one arm out,
caught him by the back of the neck and jerked him backward like a pillow.
His head cracked against a rail and he was stunned.
“‘Sorry,’ said Major Butt, ‘women will be attended to first or I’ll break
every damned bone in your body.’
FORCED MEN USURPING PLACES TO VACATE
“The boats were lowered one by one, and as I stood by, my husband said to
me, ‘Thank God, for Archie Butt.’ Perhaps Major Butt heard it, for he
turned his face towards us for a second and smiled. Just at that moment, a
young man was arguing to get into a life-boat, and Major Butt had a hold
of the lad by the arm, like a big brother, and was telling him to keep his
head and be a man.
“Major Butt helped those poor frightened steerage people so wonderfully,
so tenderly and yet with such cool and manly firmness that he prevented
the loss of many lives from panic. He was a soldier to the last. He was
one of God’s greatest noblemen, and I think I can say he was an example of
bravery even to men on the ship.”
LAST WORDS OF MAJOR BUTT
Miss Marie Young, who was a music instructor to President Roosevelt’s
children and had known Major Butt during the Roosevelt occupancy of the
White House, told this story of his heroism.
“Archie himself put me into the boat, wrapped blankets about me and tucked
me in as carefully as if we were starting on a motor ride. He, himself,
entered the boat with me, performing the little courtesies as calmly and
with as smiling a face as if death were far away, instead of being but a
few moments removed from him.
“When he had carefully wrapped me up he stepped upon the gunwale of the
boat, and lifting his hat, smiled down at me. ‘Good-bye, Miss Young,’ he
said. ‘Good luck to you, and don’t forget to remember me to the folks back
home.’ Then he stepped back and waved his hand to me as the boat was
lowered. I think I was the last woman he had a chance to help, for the
boat went down shortly after we cleared the suction zone.”
COLONEL ASTOR ANOTHER HERO
Colonel Astor was another of the heroes of the awful night. Effort was
made to persuade him to take a place in one of the life-boats, but he
emphatically refused to do so until every woman and child on board had
been provided for, not excepting the women members of the ship’s company.
One of the passengers describing the consummate courage of Colonel Astor
said:
“He led Mrs. Astor to the side of the ship and helped her to the life-boat
to which she had been assigned. I saw that she was prostrated and said she
would remain and take her chances with him, but Colonel Astor quietly
insisted and tried to reassure her in a few words. As she took her place
in the boat her eyes were fixed upon him. Colonel Astor smiled, touched
his cap, and when the boat moved safely away from the ship’s side he
turned back to his place among the men.”
Mrs. Ida S. Hippach and her daughter Jean, survivors of the Titanic, said
they were saved by Colonel John Jacob Astor, who forced the crew of the
last life-boat to wait for them.
“We saw Colonel Astor place Mrs. Astor in a boat and assure her that he
would follow later,” said Mrs. Hippach.
“He turned to us with a smile and said, ‘Ladies, you are next.’ The
officer in charge of the boat protested that the craft was full, and the
seamen started to lower it.
“Colonel Astor exclaimed, ‘Hold that boat,’ in the voice of a man
accustomed to be obeyed, and they did as he ordered. The boat had been
lowered past the upper deck and the colonel took us to the deck below and
put us in the boat, one after the other, through a port-hole.”
{illust. caption = LOADING THE LIFE-BOATS
Here occurred the heart-rending separation of husbands and wives, as the
women were given precedence in the boats.}
HEART-BREAKING SCENES
There were some terrible scenes. Fathers were parting from their children
and giving them an encouraging pat on the shoulders; men were kissing
their wives and telling them that they would be with them shortly. One man
said there was absolutely no danger, that the boat was the finest ever
built, with water-tight compartments, and that it could not sink. That
seemed to be the general impression.
A few of the men, however, were panic-stricken even when the first of the
fifty-six foot life-boats was being filled. Fully ten men threw themselves
into the boats already crowded with women and children. These men were
dragged back and hurled sprawling across the deck. Six of them, screamed
with fear, struggled to their feet and made a second attempt to rush to
the boats.
About ten shots sounded in quick succession. The six cowardly men were
stopped in their tracks, staggered and collapsed one after another. At
least two of them vainly attempted to creep toward the boats again. The
others lay quite still. This scene of bloodshed served its purpose. In
that particular section of the deck there was no further attempt to
violate the rule of “women and children first.”
“I helped fill the boats with women,” said Thomas Whiteley, who was a
waiter on the Titanic. “Collapsible boat No. 2 on the starboard jammed.
The second officer was hacking at the ropes with a knife and I was being
dragged around the deck by that rope when I looked up and saw the boat,
with all aboard, turn turtle. In some way I got overboard myself and clung
to an oak dresser. I wasn’t more than sixty feet from the Titanic when she
went down. Her big stern rose up in the air and she went down bow first. I
saw all the machinery drop out of her.”
HENRY B. HARRIS
Henry B. Harris, of New York, a theatrical manager, was one of the men who
showed superb courage in the crisis. When the life-boats were first being
filled, and before there was any panic, Mr. Harris went to the side of his
wife before the boat was lowered away.
“Women first,” shouted one of the ship’s officers. Mr. Harris glanced up
and saw that the remark was addressed to him.
“All right,” he replied coolly. “Good-bye, my dear,” he said, as he kissed
his wife, pressed her a moment to his breast, and then climbed back to the
Titanic’s deck.
THREE EXPLOSIONS
Up to this time there had been no panic; but about one hour before the
ship plunged to the bottom there were three separate explosions of
bulkheads as the vessel filled. These were at intervals of about fifteen
minutes. From that time there was a different scene. The rush for the
remaining boats became a stampede.
The stokers rushed up from below and tried to beat a path through the
steerage men and women and through the sailors and officers, to get into
the boats. They had their iron bars and shovels, and they struck down all
who stood in their way.
The first to come up from the depths of the ship was an engineer. From
what he is reported to have said it is probable that the steam fittings
were broken and many were scalded to death when the Titanic lifted. He
said he had to dash through a narrow place beside a broken pipe and his
back was frightfully scalded.
Right at his heels came the stokers. The officers had pistols, but they
could not use them at first for fear of killing the women and children.
The sailors fought with their fists and many of them took the stoke bars
and shovels from the stokers and used them to beat back the others.
Many of the coal-passers and stokers who had been driven back from the
boats went to the rail, and whenever a boat was filled and lowered several
of them jumped overboard and swam toward it trying to climb aboard.
Several of the survivors said that men who swam to the sides of their
boats were pulled in or climbed in.
Dozens of the cabin passengers were witnesses of some of the frightful
scenes on the steerage deck. The steerage survivors said that ten women
from the upper decks were the only cool passengers in the life-boat, and
they tried to quiet the steerage women, who were nearly all crazed with
fear and grief.
OTHER HEROES
Among the chivalrous young heroes of the Titanic disaster were Washington
A. Roebling, 2d, and Howard Case, London representative of the Vacuum Oil
Company. Both were urged repeatedly to take places in life-boats, but
scorned the opportunity, while working against time to save the women
aboard the ill-fated ship. They went to their death, it is said by
survivors, with smiles on their faces.
Both of these young men aided in the saving of Mrs. William T. Graham,
wife of the president of the American Can Company, and Mrs. Graham’s
nineteen-year-old daughter, Margaret.
Afterwards relating some of her experiences Mrs. Graham said:
“There was a rap at the door. It was a passenger whom we had met shortly
after the ship left Liverpool, and his name was Roebling—Washington
A. Roebling, 2d. He was a gentleman and a brave man. He warned us of the
danger and told us that it would be best to be prepared for an emergency.
We heeded his warning, and I looked out of my window and saw a great big
iceberg facing us. Immediately I knew what had happened and we lost no
time after that to get out into the saloon.
“In one of the gangways I met an officer of the ship.
“‘What is the matter?’ I asked him.
“‘We’ve only burst two pipes,’ he said. ‘Everything is all right, don’t
worry.’
“‘But what makes the ship list so?’ I asked.
“‘Oh, that’s nothing,’ he replied, and walked away.
“Mr. Case advised us to get into a boat.
“‘And what are you going to do?’ we asked him.
“‘Oh,’ he replied, ‘I’ll take a chance and stay here.’
“Just at that time they were filling up the third life-boat on the port
side of the ship. I thought at the time that it was the third boat which
had been lowered, but I found out later that they had lowered other boats
on the other side, where the people were more excited because they were
sinking on that side.
“Just then Mr. Roebling came up, too, and told us to hurry and get into
the third boat. Mr. Roebling and Mr. Case bustled our party of three into
that boat in less time than it takes to tell it. They were both working
hard to help the women and children. The boat was fairly crowded when we
three were pushed into it, and a few men jumped in at the last moment, but
Mr. Roebling and Mr. Case stood at the rail and made no attempt to get
into the boat.
“They shouted good-bye to us. What do you think Mr. Case did then? He just
calmly lighted a cigarette and waved us good-bye with his hand. Mr.
Roebling stood there, too—I can see him now. I am sure that he knew
that the ship would go to the bottom. But both just stood there.”
IN THE FACE OF DEATH
Scenes on the sinking vessel grew more tragic as the remaining passengers
faced the awful certainty that death must be the portion of the majority,
death in the darkness of a wintry sea studded with its ice monuments like
the marble shafts in some vast cemetery.
In that hour, when cherished illusions of possible safety had all but
vanished, manhood and womanhood aboard the Titanic rose to their sublimest
heights. It was in that crisis of the direst extremity that many brave
women deliberately rejected life and chose rather to remain and die with
the men whom they loved.
DEATH FAILS TO PART MR. AND MRS. STRAUS
“I will not leave my husband,” said Mrs. Isidor Straus. “We are old; we
can best die together,” and she turned from those who would have forced
her into one of the boats and clung to the man who had been the partner of
her joys and sorrows. Thus they stood hand in hand and heart to heart,
comforting each other until the sea claimed them, united in death as they
had been through a long life.
“Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his
friends.”
Miss Elizabeth Evans fulfilled this final test of affection laid down by
the Divine Master. The girl was the niece of the wife of Magistrate
Cornell, of New York. She was placed in the same boat with many other
women. As it was about to be lowered away it was found that the craft
contained one more than its full quota of passengers.
The grim question arose as to which of them should surrender her place and
her chance of safety. Beside Miss Evans sat Mrs. J. J. Brown, of Denver,
the mother of several children. Miss Evans was the first to volunteer to
yield to another.
GIRL STEPS BACK TO DOOM
“Your need is greater than mine,” said she to Mrs. Brown. “You have
children who need you, and I have none.”
So saying she arose from the boat and stepped back upon the deck. The girl
found no later refuge and was one of those who went down with the ship.
She was twenty-five years old and was beloved by all who knew her.
Mrs. Brown thereafter showed the spirit which had made her also volunteer
to leave the boat. There were only three men in the boat and but one of
them rowed. Mrs. Brown, who was raised on the water, immediately picked up
one of the heavy sweeps and began to pull.
In the boat which carried Mrs. Cornell and Mrs. Appleton there were places
for seventeen more than were carried. This too was undermanned and the two
women at once took their places at the oars.
The Countess of Rothes was pulling at the oars of her boat, likewise
undermanned because the crew preferred to stay behind.
Miss Bentham, of Rochester, showed splendid courage. She happened to be in
a life-boat which was very much crowded—so much so that one sailor
had to sit with his feet dangling in the icy cold water, and as time went
on the sufferings of the man from the cold were apparent. Miss Bentham
arose from her place and had the man turn around while she took her place
with her feet in the water.
Scarcely any of the life-boats were properly manned. Two, filled with
women and children, capsized immediately, while the collapsible boats were
only temporarily useful. They soon filled with water. In one boat eighteen
or twenty persons sat in water above their knees for six hours.
{illust. caption =
In the darkness and confusion, punctuated by screams, sobs and curses, the
boats were lowered after being filled with women, children and a few men.
The sketch, drawn from description of eye-witnesses, shows the lofty side
of the stricken vessel and the laden boats descending.
THE LIFE-BOATS BEING LOWERED}
{illust. caption = Copyright by Underwood & Underwood, N. Y.
{illust. caption = Copyright by Underwood & Underwood, N. Y.
LIFE-BOATS, AS SEEN FROM THE CARPATHIA
Photographs taken from the rescue ship as she reached the first boats
carrying the Titanic’s sufferers.}
heard it, but have forgotten it. But I saw an order for five pounds which
this man gave to each of the crew of his boat after they got aboard the
Carpathia. It was on a piece of ordinary paper addressed to the Coutts
Bank of England.
“We called that boat the ‘money boat.’ It was lowered from the starboard
side and was one of the first off. Our orders were to load the life-boats
beginning forward on the port side, working aft and then back on the
starboard. This man paid the firemen to lower a starboard boat before the
officers had given the order.”
Whiteley’s own experience was a hard one. When the uncoiling rope, which
entangled his feet, threw him into the sea, it furrowed the flesh of his
leg, but he did not feel the pain until he was safe aboard the Carpathia.
“I floated on my life-preserver for several hours,” he said, “then I came
across a big oak dresser with two men clinging to it. I hung on to this
till daybreak and the two men dropped off. When the sun came up I saw the
collapsible raft in the distance, just black with men. They were all
standing up, and I swam to it—almost a mile, it seemed to me—and
they would not let me aboard. Mr. Lightoller, the second officer, was one
of them.
“‘It’s thirty-one lives against yours,, he said, ‘you can’t come aboard.
There’s not room.'”
“I pleaded with him in vain, and then I confess I prayed that somebody
might die, so I could take his place. It was only human. And then some one
did die, and they let me aboard.
“By and by, we saw seven life-boats lashed together, and we were taken
into them.”
MEN SHOT DOWN
The officers had to assert their authority by force, and three foreigners
from the steerage who tried to force their way in among the women and
children were shot down without mercy.
Robert Daniel, a Philadelphia passenger, told of terrible scenes at this
period of the disaster. He said men fought and bit and struck one another
like madmen, and exhibited wounds upon his face to prove the assertion.
Mr. Daniel said that he was picked up naked from the ice-cold water and
almost perished from exposure before he was rescued. He and others told
how the Titanic’s bow was completely torn away by the impact with the
berg.
K. Whiteman, of Palmyra, N. J., the Titanic’s barber, was lowering boats
on deck after the collision, and declared the officers on the bridge, one
of them First Officer Murdock, promptly worked the electrical apparatus
for closing the water-tight compartments. He believed the machinery was in
some way so damaged by the crash that the front compartments failed to
close tightly, although the rear ones were secure.
Whiteman’s manner of escape was unique. He was blown off the deck by the
second of the two explosions of the boilers, and was in the water more
than two hours before he was picked up by a raft.
“The explosions,” Whiteman said; “were caused by the rushing in of the icy
water on the boilers. A bundle of deck chairs, roped together, was blown
off the deck with me, and I struck my back, injuring my spine, but it
served as a temporary raft.
“The crew and passengers had faith in the bulkhead system to save the ship
and we were lowering a collapsible boat, all confident the ship would get
through, when she took a terrific dip forward and the water swept over the
deck and into the engine rooms.
“The bow went clean down, and I caught the pile of chairs as I was washed
up against the rim. Then came the explosions which blew me fifteen feet.
“After the water had filled the forward compartments, the ones at the
stern could not save her, although they did delay the ship’s going down.
If it wasn’t for the compartments hardly anyone could have got away.”
A SAD MESSAGE
One of the Titanic’s stewards, Johnson by name, carried this message to
the sorrowing widow of Benjamin Guggenheim:
“When Mr. Guggenheim realized that there was grave danger,” said the room
steward, “he advised his secretary, who also died, to dress fully and he
himself did the same. Mr. Guggenheim, who was cool and collected as he was
pulling on his outer garments, said to the steward:—
PREPARED TO DIE BRAVELY
“‘I think there is grave doubt that the men will get off safely. I am
willing to remain and play the man’s game, if there are not enough boats
for more than the women and children. I won’t die here like a beast. I’ll
meet my end as man.’
“There was a pause and then Mr. Guggenheim continued:
“‘Tell my wife, Johnson, if it should happen that my secretary and I both
go down and you are saved, tell her I played the game out straight and to
the end. No woman shall be left aboard this ship because Ben Guggenheim
was a coward.
“‘Tell her that my last thoughts will be of her and of our girls, but that
my duty now is to these unfortunate women and children on this ship. Tell
her I will meet whatever fate is in store for me, knowing she will approve
of what I do.'”
In telling the story the room steward said the last he saw of Mr.
Guggenheim was when he stood fully dressed upon the upper deck talking
calmly with Colonel Astor and Major Butt.
Before the last of the boats got away, according to some of the
passengers’ narratives, there were more than fifty shots fired upon the
decks by officers or others in the effort to maintain the discipline that
until then had been well preserved.
THE SINKING VESSEL
Richard Norris Williams, Jr., one of the survivors of the Titanic, saw his
father killed by being crushed by one of the tremendous funnels of the
sinking vessel.
“We stood on deck watching the life-boats of the Titanic being filled and
lowered into the water,” said Mr. Williams. “The water was nearly up to
our waists and the ship was about at her last. Suddenly one of the great
funnels fell. I sprang aside, endeavoring to pull father with me. A moment
later the funnel was swept overboard and the body of father went with it.
“I sprang overboard and swam through the ice to a life-raft, and was
pulled aboard. There were five men and one woman on the raft. Occasionally
we were swept off into the sea, but always managed to crawl back.
“A sailor lighted a cigarette and flung the match carelessly among the
women. Several screamed, fearing they would be set on fire. The sailor
replied: ‘We are going to hell anyway and we might as well be cremated now
as then.'”
A huge cake of ice was the means of aiding Emile Portaleppi, of Italy, in
his hairbreadth escape from death when the Titanic went down. Portaleppi,
a second class passenger, was awakened by the explosion of one of the
bulkheads of the ship. He hurried to the deck, strapped a life-preserver
around him and leaped into the sea. With the aid of the preserver and by
holding to a cake of ice he managed to keep afloat until one of the
life-boats picked him up. There were thirty-five other people in the boat,
he said, when he was hauled aboard.
THE COWARD
Somewhere in the shadow of the appalling Titanic disaster slinks—still
living by the inexplicable grace of God—a cur in human shape, to-day
the most despicable human being in all the world.
In that grim midnight hour, already great in history, he found himself
hemmed in by the band of heroes whose watchword and countersign rang out
across the deep—”Women and children first!”
What did he do? He scuttled to the stateroom deck, put on a woman’s skirt,
a woman’s hat and a woman’s veil, and picking his crafty way back among
the brave and chivalric men who guarded the rail of the doomed ship, he
filched a seat in one of the life-boats and saved his skin.
His name is on that list of branded rescued men who were neither picked up
from the sea when the ship went down nor were in the boats under orders to
help get them safe away. His identity is not yet known, though it will be
in good time. So foul an act as that will out like murder.
The eyes of strong men who have read this crowded record of golden deeds,
who have read and re-read that deathless roll of honor of the dead, are
still wet with tears of pity and of pride. This man still lives. Surely he
was born and saved to set for men a new standard by which to measure
infamy and shame.
It is well that there was sufficient heroism on board the Titanic to
neutralize the horrors of the cowardice. When the first order was given
for the men to stand back, there were a dozen or more who pushed forward
and said that men would be needed to row the life-boats and that they
would volunteer for the work.
The officers tried to pick out the ones that volunteered merely for
service and to eliminate those who volunteered merely to save their own
lives. This elimination process however, was not wholly successful.
THE DOOMED MEN
As the ship began to settle to starboard, heeling at an angle of nearly
forty-five degrees, those who had believed it was all right to stick by
the ship began to have doubts, and a few jumped into the sea. They were
followed immediately by others, and in a few minutes there were scores
swimming around. Nearly all of them wore life-preservers. One man, who had
a Pomeranian dog, leaped overboard with it and striking a piece of
wreckage was badly stunned. He recovered after a few minutes and swam
toward one of the life-boats and was taken aboard.
Said one survivor, speaking of the men who remained on the ship. “There
they stood—Major Butt, Colonel Astor waving a farewell to his wife,
Mr. Thayer, Mr. Case, Mr. Clarence Moore, Mr. Widener, all
multimillionaires, and hundreds of other men, bravely smiling at us all.
Never have I seen such chivalry and fortitude. Such courage in the face of
fate horrible to contemplate filled us even then with wonder and
admiration.”
Why were men saved? ask: others who seek to make the occasional male
survivor a hissing scorn; and yet the testimony makes it clear that for a
long time during that ordeal the more frightful position seemed to many to
be in the frail boats in the vast relentless sea, and that some men had to
be tumbled into the boats under orders from the officers. Others express
the deepest indignation that 210 sailors were rescued, the testimony shows
that most of these sailors were in the welter of ice and water into which
they had been thrown from the ship’s deck when she sank; they were human
beings and so were picked up and saved.
“WOMEN AND CHILDREN FIRST”
The one alleviating circumstance in the otherwise immitigable tragedy is
the fact that so many of the men stood aside really with out the necessity
for the order, “Women and children first,” and insisted that the weaker
sex should first have places in the boats.
There were men whose word of command swayed boards of directors, governed
institutions, disposed of millions. They were accustomed merely to
pronounce a wish to have it gratified. Thousands “posted at their
bidding”; the complexion of the market altered hue when they nodded; they
bought what they wanted, and for one of the humblest fishing smacks or a
dory they could have given the price that was paid to build and launch the
ship that has become the most imposing mausoleum that ever housed the
bones of men since the Pyramids rose from the desert sands.
But these men stood aside—one can see them!—and gave place not
merely to the delicate and the refined, but to the scared Czech woman from
the steerage, with her baby at her breast; the Croatian with a toddler by
her side, coming through the very gate of Death and out of the mouth of
Hell to the imagined Eden of America.
To many of those who went it was harder to go than to stay there on the
vessel gaping with its mortal wounds and ready to go down. It meant that
tossing on the waters they must wait in suspense, hour after hour even
after the lights of the ship were engulfed in appalling darkness, hoping
against hope for the miracle of a rescue dearer to them than their own
lives.
It was the tradition of Anglo-Saxon heroism that was fulfilled in the
frozen seas during the black hours of Sunday night. The heroism was that
of the women who went, as well as of the men who remained!
CHAPTER VII. LEFT TO THEIR FATE
COOLNESS AND HEROISM OF THOSE LEFT TO PERISH—SUICIDE OF MURDOCK—CAPTAIN
SMITH’S END—THE SHIP’S BAND PLAYS A NOBLE HYMN AS THE VESSEL GOES
DOWN
THE general feeling aboard the ship after the boats had left her sides was
that she would not survive her wound, but the passengers who remained
aboard displayed the utmost heroism.
William T. Stead, the famous English journalist, was so litt{l}e alarmed
that he calmly discussed with one of the passengers the probable height of
the iceberg after the Titanic had shot into it.
Confidence in the ability of the Titanic to remain afloat doubtlessly led
many of the passengers to death. The theory that the great ship was
unsinkable remained with hundreds who had entrusted themselves to the
gigantic hulk, long after the officers knew that the vessel could not
survive.
The captain and officers behaved with superb gallantry, and there was
perfect order and discipline among those who were aboard, even after all
hope had been abandoned for the salvation of the ship.
Many women went down, steerage women who were unable to get to the upper
decks where the boats were launched, maids who were overlooked in the
confusion, cabin passengers who refused to desert their husbands or who
reached the decks after the last of the life-boats was gone and the ship
was settling for her final plunge to the bottom of the Atlantic.
Narratives of survivors do not bear out the supposition that the final
hours upon the vessel’s decks were passed in darkness. They say the
electric lighting plant held out until the last, and that even as they
watched the ship sink, from their places in the floating life-boats, her
lights were gleaming in long rows as she plunged under by the head. Just
before she sank, some of the refugees say, the ship broke in two abaft the
engine room after the bulkhead explosions had occurred.
COLONEL ASTOR’S DEATH
To Colonel Astor’s death Philip Mock bears this testimony.
“Many men were hanging on to rafts in the sea. William T. Stead and
Colonel Astor were among them. Their feet and hands froze and they had to
let go. Both were drowned.”
The last man among the survivors to speak to Colonel Astor was K.
Whiteman, the ship’s barber.
“I shaved Colonel Astor Sunday afternoon,” said Whiteman. “He was a
pleasant, affable man, and that awful night when I found myself standing
beside him on the passenger deck, helping to put the women into the boats,
I spoke to him.
“‘Where is your life-belt?’ I asked him.
“‘I didn’t think there would be any need of it,’ he said.
“‘Get one while there is time,’ I told him. ‘The last boat is gone, and we
are done for.’
“‘No,’ he said, ‘I think there are some life-boats to be launched, and we
may get on one of them.’
“‘There are no life-rafts,’ I told him, ‘and the ship is going to sink. I
am going to jump overboard and take a chance on swimming out and being
picked up by one of the boats. Better come along.’
“‘No, thank you,’ he said, calmly, ‘I think I’ll have to stick.’
“I asked him if he would mind shaking hands with me. He said, ‘With
pleasure,’ gave me a hearty grip, and then I climbed up on the rail and
jumped overboard. I was in the water nearly four hours before one of the
boats picked me up.”
CAPTAIN WASHED OVERBOARD
Murdock’s last orders were to Quartermaster Moody and a few other petty
officers who had taken their places in the rigid discipline of the ship
and were lowering the boats. Captain Smith came up to him on the bridge
several times and then rushed down again. They spoke to one another only
in monosyllables.
There were stories that Captain Smith, when he saw the ship actually going
down, had committed suicide. There is no basis for such tales. The
captain, according to the testimony of those who were near him almost
until the last, was admirably cool. He carried a revolver in his hand,
ready to use it on anyone who disobeyed orders.
“I want every man to act like a man for manhood’s sake,” he said, “and if
they don’t, a bullet awaits the coward.”
With the revolver in his hand—a fact that undoubtedly gave rise to
the suicide theory—the captain moved up and down the deck. He gave
the order for each life-boat to make off and he remained until every boat
was gone. Standing on the bridge he finally called out the order: “Each
man save himself.” At that moment all discipline fled. It was the last
call of death. If there had been any hope among those on board before, the
hope now had fled.
The bearded admiral of the White Star Line fleet, with every life-saving
device launched from the decks, was returning to the deck to perform the
sacred office of going down with his ship when a wave dashed over the side
and tore him from the ladder.
The Titanic was sinking rapidly by the head, with the twisting sidelong
motion that was soon to aim her on her course two miles down. Murdock saw
the skipper swept out; but did not move. Captain Smith was but one of a
multitude of lost at that moment. Murdock may have known that the last
desperate thought of the gray mariner was to get upon his bridge and die
in command. That the old man could not have done this may have had
something to do with Murdock’s suicidal inspiration. Of that no man may
say or safely guess.
The wave that swept the skipper out bore him almost to the thwart of a
crowded life-boat. Hands reached out, but he wrenched himself away, turned
and swam back toward the ship.
Some say that he said, “Good-bye, I’m going back to the ship.”
He disappeared for a moment, then reappeared where a rail was slipping
under water. Cool and courageous to the end, loyal to his duty under the
most difficult circumstances, he showed himself a noble captain, and he
died a noble death.
SAW BOTH OFFICERS PERISH
Quartermaster Moody saw all this, watched the skipper scramble aboard
again onto the submerged decks, and then vanish altogether in a great
billow.
As Moody’s eye lost sight of the skipper in this confusion of waters it
again shifted to the bridge, and just in time to see Murdock take his
life. The man’s face was turned toward him, Moody said, and he could not
mistake it. There were still many gleaming lights on the ship, flickering
out like little groups of vanishing stars, and with the clear starshine on
the waters there was nothing to cloud or break the quartermaster’s vision.
“I saw Murdock die by his own hand,” said Moody, “saw the flash from his
gun, heard the crack that followed the flash and then saw him plunge over
on his face.”
Others report hearing several pistol shots on the decks below the bridge,
but amid the groans and shrieks and cries, shouted orders and all that
vast orchestra of sounds that broke upon the air they must have been faint
periods of punctuation
BAND PLAYED ITS OWN DIRGE
The band had broken out in the strains of “Nearer, My God, to Thee,” some
minutes before Murdock lifted the revolver to his head, fired and toppled
over on his face. Moody saw all this in a vision that filled his brain,
while his ears drank in the tragic strain of the beautiful hymn that the
band played as their own dirge, even to the moment when the waters sucked
them down.
Wherever Murdock’s eye swept the water in that instant, before he drew his
revolver, it looked upon veritable seas of drowning men and women. From
the decks there came to him the shrieks and groans of the caged and
drowning, for whom all hope of escape was utterly vanished. He evidently
never gave a thought to the possibility of saving himself, his mind
freezing with the horrors he beheld and having room for just one central
idea—swift extinction.
The strains of the hymn and the frantic cries of the dying blended in a
symphony of sorrow.
Led by the green light, under the light of stars, the boats drew away, and
the bow, then the quarter, then the stacks and last the stern of the
marvel ship of a few days before passed beneath the waters. The great
force of the ship’s sinking was unaided by any violence of the elements,
and the suction, not so great as had been feared, rocked but mildly the
group of boats now a quarter of a mile distant from it.
Just before the Titanic disappeared from view men and women leaped from
the stern. More than a hundred men, according to Colonel Gracie, jumped at
the last. Gracie was among the number and he and the second officer were
of the very few who were saved.
As the vessel disappeared, the waves drowned the majestic
{illust. caption = DEPTH OF OCEAN WHERE THE TITANIC WENT DOWN
The above etching shows a diagram of the ocean depths between the shore of
Newfoundland (shown at the top to the left, by the heavily shaded part) to
800 miles out, where the Titanic struck an iceberg and sank. Over the
Great Bank of Newfoundland the greatest depth is about 35 fathoms, or 210
feet. Then there is a sudden drop to 105 fathoms, or 630 feet, and then
there is a falling away to 1650 fathoms or 9900 feet, then 2000 fathoms or
12,000 feet, and about where the Titanic sank 2760 fathoms or 16,560
feet.}
hymn which the musicians played as they went to their watery grave. The
most authentic accounts agree that this hymn was not “Nearer, My God, to
Thee,” which it seems had been
{illust. caption = CARPATHIA
The Cunard liner which brought the survivors of the Titanic to New York.}
{illust. caption = THE HERO WIRELESS OPERATOR OF THE TITANIC
Photograph of Harold…}
played shortly before, but “Autumn,” which is found in the Episcopal
hymnal and which fits appropriately the situation on the Titanic in the
last moments of pain and darkness there. One line, “Hold me up in mighty
waters,” particularly may have suggested the hymn to some minister aboard
the doomed vessel, who, it has been thought, thereupon asked the remaining
passengers to join in singing the hymn, in a last service aboard the
sinking ship, soon to be ended by death itself.
Following is the hymn:
It was a little lame schoolmaster, Tyrtaeus, who aroused the Spartans by
his poetry and led them to victory against the foe.
It was the musicians of the band of the Titanic—poor men, paid a few
dollars a week—who played the music to keep up the courage of the
souls aboard the sinking ship.
“The way the band kept playing was a noble thing,” says the wireless
operator. “I heard it first while we were working the wireless, when there
was a rag-time tune for us, and the last I saw of the band, when I was
floating, struggling in the icy water, it was still on deck, playing
‘Autumn.’ How those brave fellows ever did it I cannot imagine.”
Perhaps that music, made in the face of death, would not have satisfied
the exacting critical sense. It may be that the chilled fingers faltered
on the pistons of the cornet or at the valves of the French horn, that the
time was irregular and that by an organ in a church, with a decorous
congregation, the hymns they chose would have been better played and sung.
But surely that music went up to God from the souls of drowning men, and
was not less acceptable than the song of songs no mortal ear may hear, the
harps of the seraphs and the choiring cherubim. Under the sea the
music-makers lie, still in their fingers clutching the broken and battered
means of melody; but over the strident voice of warring winds and the
sound of many waters there rises their chant eternally; and though the
musicians lie hushed and cold at the sea’s heart, their music is heard
forevermore.
LAST MOMENTS
That great ship, which started out as proudly, went down to her death like
some grime silent juggernaut, drunk with carnage and anxious to stop the
throbbing of her own heart at the bottom of the sea. Charles H.
Lightoller, second officer of the Titanic, tells the story this way:
“I stuck to the ship until the water came up to my ankles. There had been
no lamentations, no demonstrations either from the men passengers as they
saw the last life-boat go, and there was no wailing or crying, no outburst
from the men who lined the ship’s rail as the Titanic disappeared from
sight.
“The men stood quietly as if they were in church. They knew that they were
in the sight of God; that in a moment judgment would be passed upon them.
Finally, the ship took a dive, reeling for a moment, then plunging. I was
sucked to the side of the ship against the grating over the blower for the
exhaust. There was an explosion. It blew me to the surface again, only to
be sucked back again by the water rushing into the ship
“This time I landed against the grating over the pipes, which furnish a
draught for the funnels, and stuck there. There was another explosion, and
I came to the surface. The ship seemed to be heaving tremendous sighs as
she went down. I found myself not many feet from the ship, but on the
other side of it. The ship had turned around while I was under the water.
“I came up near a collapsible life-boat and grabbed it. Many men were in
the water near me. They had jumped at the last minute. A funnel fell
within four inches of me and killed one of the swimmers. Thirty clung to
the capsized boat, and a life-boat, with forty survivors in it already,
finally took them off.
“George D. Widener and Harry Elkins Widener were among those who jumped at
the last minute. So did Robert Williams Daniel. The three of them went
down together. Daniel struck out, lashing the water with his arms until he
had made a point far distant from the sinking monster of the sea. Later he
was picked up by one of the passing life-boats.
“The Wideners were not seen again, nor was John B. Thayer, who went down
on the boat. ‘Jack’ Thayer, who was literally thrown off the Titanic by an
explosion, after he had refused to leave the men to go with his mother,
floated around on a raft for an hour before he was picked up.”
AFLOAT WITH JACK THAYER
Graphic accounts of the final plunge of the Titanic were related by two
Englishmen, survivors by the merest chance. One of them struggled for
hours to hold himself afloat on an overturned collapsible life-boat, to
one end of which John B. Thayer, Jr., of Philadelphia, whose father
perished, hung until rescued.
The men gave their names as A. H. Barkworth, justice of the peace of East
Riding, Yorkshire, England, and W. J. Mellers, of Christ Church Terrace,
Chelsea, London. The latter, a young man, had started for this country
with his savings to seek his fortune, and lost all but his life.
Mellers, like Quartermaster Moody, said Captain Smith did not commit
suicide. The captain jumped from the bridge, Mellers declares, and he
heard him say to his officers and crew: “You have done your duty, boys.
Now every man for himself.” Mellers and Barkworth, who say their names
have been spelled incorrectly in most of the lists of survivors, both
declare there were three distinct explosions before the Titanic broke in
two, and bow section first, and stern part last, settled with her human
cargo into the sea.
Her four whistles kept up a deafening blast until the explosions, declare
the men. The death cries from the shrill throats of the blatant steam
screechers beside the smokestacks so rent the air that conversation among
the passengers was possible only when one yelled into the ear of a
fellow-unfortunate.
“I did not know the Thayer family well,” declared Mr. Barkworth, “but I
had met young Thayer, a clear-cut chap, and his father on the trip. The
lad and I struggled in the water for several hours endeavoring to hold
afloat by grabbing to the sides and end of an overturned life-boat. Now
and again we lost our grip and fell back into the water. I did not
recognize young Thayer in the darkness, as we struggled for our lives, but
I did recall having met him before when we were picked up by a life-boat.
We were saved by the merest chance, because the survivors on a life-boat
that rescued us hesitated in doing so, it seemed, fearing perhaps that
additional burdens would swamp the frail craft.
“I considered my fur overcoat helped to keep me afloat. I had a life
preserver over it, under my arms, but it would not have held me up so well
out of the water but for the coat. The fur of the coat seemed not to get
wet through, and retained a certain amount of air that added to buoyance.
I shall never part with it.
“The testimony of J. Bruce Ismay, managing director of the White Star
Line, that he had not heard explosions before the Titanic settled,
indicates that he must have gotten some distance from her in his
life-boat. There were three distinct explosions and the ship broke in the
center. The bow settled headlong first, and the stern last. I was looking
toward her from the raft to which young Thayer and I had clung.”
HOW CAPTAIN SMITH DIED
Barkworth jumped, just before the Titanic went down. He said there were
enough life-preservers for all the passengers, but in the confusion many
may not have known where to look for them. Mellers, who had donned a
life-preserver, was hurled into the air, from the bow of the ship by the
force of the explosion, which he believed caused the Titanic to part in
the center.
“I was not far from where Captain Smith stood on the bridge, giving full
orders to his men,” said Mellers. “The brave old seaman was crying, but he
had stuck heroically to the last. He did not shoot himself. He jumped from
the bridge when he had done all he could. I heard his final instructions
to his crew, and recall that his last words were: ‘You have done your
duty, boys. Now every man for himself.’
“I thought I was doomed to go down with the rest. I stood on the deck,
awaiting my fate, fearing to jump from the ship. Then came a grinding
noise, followed by two others, and I was hurled into the deep. Great waves
engulfed me, but I was not drawn toward the ship, so that I believe there
was little suction. I swam about for more than one hour before I was
picked up by a boat.”
A FAITHFUL OFFICER
Charles Herbert Lightoller, previously mentioned, stood by the ship until
the last, working to get the passengers away, and when it appeared that he
had made his last trip he went up high on the officers’ quarters and made
the best dive he knew how to make just as the ship plunged down to the
depths. This is an excerpt from his testimony before the Senate
investigating committee:
“What time did you leave the ship?”
“I didn’t leave it.”
“Did it leave you?”
“Yes, sir.”
Children shall hear that episode sung in after years and his own
descendants shall recite it to their bairns. Mr. Lightoller acted as an
officer and gentleman should, and he was not the only one.
A MESSAGE FROM A NOTORIOUS GAMBLER
That Jay Yates, gambler, confidence man and fugitive from justice, known
to the police and in sporting circles as J. H. Rogers, went down with the
Titanic after assisting many women aboard life-boats, became known when a
note, written on a blank page torn from a diary: was delivered to his
sister. Here is a fac-simile of the note:
{illust.}
This note was given by Rogers to a woman he was helping into a life-boat.
The woman, who signed herself “Survivor,” inclosed the note with the
following letter.
“You will find note that was handed to me as I was leaving the Titanic. Am
stranger to this man, but think he was a card player. He helped me aboard
a life-boat and I saw him help others. Before we were lowered I saw him
jump into the sea. If picked up I did not recognize him on the Carpathia.
I don’t think he was registered on the ship under his right name.”
Rogers’ mother, Mrs. Mary A. Yates, an old woman, broke down when she
learned son had perished.
“Thank God I know where he is now,” she sobbed. “I have not heard from him
for two years. The last news I had from him he was in London.”
FIFTY LADS MET DEATH
Among the many hundreds of heroic souls who went bravely and quietly to
their end were fifty happy-go-lucky youngsters shipped as bell boys or
messengers to serve the first cabin passengers. James Humphreys, a
quartermaster, who commanded life-boat No. 11, told a li{t}tle story that
shows how these fifty lads met death.
Humphreys said the boys were called to their regular posts in the main
cabin entry and taken in charge by their captain, a steward. They were
ordered to remain in the cabin and not get in the way. Throughout the
first hour of confusion and terror these lads sat quietly on their benches
in various parts of the first cabin.
Then, just toward the end when the order was passed around that the ship
was going down and every man was free to save himself, if he kept away
from the life-boats in which the women
{illust. caption = “WHO HATH MEASURED THE WATERS IN THE HOLLOW OF HIS
HAND.”—Isaiah XL:xii}
were being taken, the bell boys scattered to all parts of the ship.
Humphreys said he saw numbers of them smoking cigarettes and joking with
the passengers. They seemed to think that their violation of the rule
against smoking while on duty was a sufficient breach of discipline.
Not one of them attempted to enter a life-boat. Not one of them was saved.
THE HEROES WHO REMAINED
The women who left the ship; the men who remained—there is little to
choose between them for heroism. Many of the women compelled to take to
the boats would have stayed, had it been possible, to share the fate of
their nearest and dearest, without whom their lives are crippled, broken
and disconsolate.
The heroes who remained would have said, with Grenville. “We have only
done our duty, as a man is bound to do.” They sought no palms or crowns of
martyrdom. “They also serve who only stand and wait,” and their first
action was merely to step aside and give places in the boats to women and
children, some of whom were too young to comprehend or to remember.
There was no debate as to whether the life of a financier, a master of
business, was rated higher in the scale of values than that of an ignorant
peasant mother. A woman was a woman, whether she wore rags or pearls. A
life was given for a life, with no assertion that one was priceless and
the other comparatively valueless.
Many of those who elected to remain might have escaped. “Chivalry” is a
mild appellation for their conduct. Some of the vaunted knights of old
were desperate cowards by comparison. A fight in the open field, or
jousting in the tournament, did not call out the manhood in a man as did
the waiting till the great ship took the final plunge, in the knowledge
that the seas round about were covered with loving and yearning witnesses
whose own salvation was not assured.
When the roll is called hereafter of those who are “purged of pride
because they died, who know the worth of their days,” let the names of the
men who went down with the Titanic be found written there in the sight of
God and men.
THE OBVIOUS LESSON
And, whatever view of the accident be taken, whether the moralist shall
use it to point the text of a solemn or denunciatory warning, or whether
the materialist, swinging to the other extreme, scouts any other theory
than that of the “fortuitous concurrence of atoms,” there is scarcely a
thinking mortal who has heard of what happened who has not been deeply
stirred, in the sense of a personal bereavement, to a profound humility
and the conviction of his own insignificance in the greater universal
scheme.
Many there are whom the influences of religion do not move, and upon whose
hearts most generous sentiments knock in vain, who still are overawed and
bowed by the magnitude of this catastrophe. No matter what they believe
about it, the effect is the same. The effect is to reduce a man from the
swaggering braggart—the vainglorious lord of what he sees—the
self-made master of fate, of nature, of time, of space, of everything—to
his true microscopic stature in the cosmos. He goes in tears to put
together again the fragments of the few, small, pitiful things that
belonged to him.
The only comfort, all that can bring surcease of sorrow, is that men
fashioned in the image of their Maker rose to the emergency like heroes,
and went to their grave as bravely as any who have given their lives at
any time in war. The hearts of those who waited on the land, and agonized,
and were impotent to save, have been laid upon the same altars of
sacrifice. The mourning of those who will not be comforted rises from
alien lands together with our own in a common broken intercession. How
little is the 882 feet of the “monster” that we launched compared with the
arc of the rainbow we can see even in our grief spanning the frozen boreal
mist!
THE ANCIENT SACRIFICE
Even so, for any progress of the race, there must be the ancient sacrifice
of man’s own stubborn heart, and all his pride. He must forever “lay in
dust life’s glory dead.” He cannot rise to the height it was intended he
should reach till he has plumbed the depths, till he has devoured the
bread of the bitterest affliction, till he has known the ache of hopes
deferred, of anxious expectation disappointed, of dreams that are not to
be fulfilled this side of the river that waters the meads of Paradise.
There still must be a reason why it is not an unhappy thing to be taken
from “the world we know to one a wonder still,” and so that we go bravely,
what does it matter, the mode of our going? It was not only those who
stood back, who let the women and children go to the boats, that died.
There died among us on the shore something of the fierce greed of
bitterness, something of the sharp hatred of passion, something of the mad
lust of revenge and of knife-edge competition. Though we are not aware of
it, perhaps, we are not quite the people that we were before out of the
mystery an awful hand was laid upon us all, and what we had thought the
colossal power of wealth was in a twinkling shown to be no more than the
strength of an infant’s little finger, or the twining tendril of a plant.
{“illustration”, really “music” Lyrics =
God of mercy and compassion, Look with pity on my pain; Hear a mournful,
broken spirit Prostrate at Thy feet complain; Many are my foes and mighty;
Strength to conquer I have none; Nothing can uphold my goings But they
blessed Self alone. AMEN
{2nd Stanza} Saviour, look on Thy beloved, Triumph over all my foes, Turn
to heavenly joy my mourning, Turn to gladness all my woes; Live or die, or
work or suffer Let my weary soul abide, In all changes whatsoever, Sure
and steadfast by Thy side:
{3rd Stanza} When temptations fierce assault me, When my enemies I find,
Sin and guilt, and death and Satan, All against my soul combined, Hold me
up in mighty waters, Keep my eyes on things above—Rightousness,{sic}
divine atonement Peace and everlasting love,}
{illust. caption = LATITUDE 41.46 NORTH, LONGITUDE 50.14 WEST WHERE
MANHOOD PERISHED NOT}
{illust. caption = LOWERING OF THE LIFE-BOATS FROM THE TITANIC
It is easy to understand why…}
{illust. caption = PASSENGERS LEAVING THE TITANIC IN THE LIFE-BOATS
The agony and despair which possessed the occupants of these boats as they
were carried away from the doomed giant, leaving husbands and brothers
behind, is almost beyond description. It is little wonder that the strain
of these moments, with the physical and mental suffering which followed
during the early morning hours, left many of the women still hysterical
when they reached New York.}
WHERE MANHOOD PERISHED NOT
CHAPTER VIII. THE CALL FOR HELP HEARD
THE VALUE OF THE WIRELESS—OTHER SHIPS ALTER THEIR COURSE—RESCUERS
ON THE WAY
“WE have struck an iceberg. Badly damaged. Rush aid.”
Seaward and landward, J. G. Phillips, the Titanic’s wireless man, had
hurled the appeal for help. By fits and starts—for the wireless was
working unevenly and blurringly—Phillips reached out to the world,
crying the Titanic’s peril. A word or two, scattered phrases, now and then
a connected sentence, made up the message that sent a thrill of
apprehension for a thousand miles east, west and south of the doomed
liner.
The early despatches from St. John’s, Cape Race, and Montreal, told
graphic tales of the race to reach the Titanic, the wireless appeals for
help, the interruption of the calls, then what appeared to be a successful
conclusion of the race when the Virginian was reported as having reached
the giant liner.
MANY LINES HEAR THE CALL
Other rushing liners besides the Virginian heard the call and became on
the instant something more than cargo carriers and passenger greyhounds.
The big Baltic, 200 miles to the eastward and westbound, turned again to
save life, as she did when her sister of the White Star fleet, the
Republic, was cut down in a fog in January, 1909. The Titanic’s mate, the
Olympic, the mightiest of the seagoers save the Titanic herself, turned in
her tracks. All along the northern lane the miracle of the wireless worked
for the distressed and sinking White Star ship. The Hamburg-American
Cincinnati, the Parisian from Glasgow, the North German Lloyd Prinz
Friedrich Wilhelm, the Hamburg-American liners Prinz Adelbert and Amerika,
all heard the C. Q. D. and the rapid, condensed explanation of what had
happened.
VIRGINIAN IN DESPERATE HASTE
But the Virginian was nearest, barely 170 miles away, and was the first to
know of the Titanic’s danger. She went about and headed under forced
draught for the spot indicated in one of the last of Phillips’ messages—latitude
41.46 N. and longitude 50.14 W. She is a fast ship, the Allan liner, and
her wireless has told the story of how she stretched through the night to
get up to the Titanic in time. There was need for all the power of her
engines and all the experience and skill of her captain. The final
fluttering Marconigrams that were released from the Titanic made it
certain that the great ship with 2340 souls aboard was filling and in
desperate peril.
Further out at sea was the Cunarder, Carpathia, which left New York for
the Mediterranean on April 13th. Round she went and plunged back westward
to take a hand in saving life. And the third steamship within short
sailing of the Titanic was the Allan liner Parisian away to the eastward,
on her way from Glasgow to Halifax.
While they sped in the night with all the drive that steam could give
them, the Titanic’s call reached to Cape Race and the startled operator
there heard at midnight a message which quickly reached New York:
“Have struck an iceberg. We are badly damaged. Titanic latitude 41.46 N.,
50.14 W.”
Cape Race threw the appeal broadcast wherever his apparatus could carry.
Then for hours, while the world waited for a crumb of news as to the
safety of the great ship’s people, not one thing more was known save that
she was drifting, broken and helpless and alone in the midst of a waste of
ice. And it was not until seventeen hours after the Titanic had sunk that
the words came out of the air as to her fate. There was a confusion and
tangle of messages—a jumble of rumors. Good tidings were trodden
upon by evil. And no man knew clearly what was taking place in that
stretch of waters where the giant icebergs were making a mock of all that
the world knew best in ship-building.
TITANIC SENT OUT NO MORE NEWS
It was at 12.17 A. M., while the Virginian was still plunging eastward,
that all communication from the Titanic ceased. The Virginian’s operator,
with the Virginian’s captain at his elbow, fed the air with blue flashes
in a desperate effort to know what was happening to the crippled liner,
but no message came back. The last word from the Titanic was that she was
sinking. Then the sparking became fainter. The call was dying to nothing.
The Virginian’s operator labored over a blur of signals. It was hopeless.
So the Allan ship strove on, fearing that the worst had happened.
It was this ominous silence that so alarmed the other vessels hurrying to
the Titanic and that caused so much suspense here.
CHAPTER IX. IN THE DRIFTING LIFE-BOATS
SORROW AND SUFFERING—THE SURVIVORS SEE THE TITANIC GO DOWN WITH
THEIR LOVED ONES ON BOARD—A NIGHT OF AGONIZING SUSPENSE—WOMEN
HELP TO ROW—HELP ARRIVES—PICKING UP THE LIFE-BOATS
SIXTEEN boats were in the procession which entered on the terrible hours
of rowing, drifting and suspense. Women wept for lost husbands and sons,
sailors sobbed for the ship which had been their pride. Men choked back
tears and sought to comfort the widowed. Perhaps, they said, other boats
might have put off in another direction. They strove, though none too sure
themselves, to convince the women of the certainty that a rescue ship
would appear.
In the distance the Titanic looked an enormous length, her great bulk
outlined in black against the starry sky, every port-hole and saloon
blazing with light. It was impossible to think anything could be wrong
with such a leviathan, were it not for that ominous tilt downwards in the
bows, where the water was now up to the lowest row of port-holes.
Presently, about 2 A. M., as near as can be determined, those in the
life-boats observed her settling very rapidly with the bows and the bridge
completely under water, and concluded it was now only a question of
minutes before she went. So it proved She slowly tilted straight on end
with the stern vertically upwards, and as she did, the lights in the
cabins and saloons, which until then had not flickered for a moment, died
out, came on again for a single flash, and finally went altogether. At the
same time the machinery roared down through the vessel with a rattle and a
groaning that could be heard for miles, the weirdest sound surely that
could be heard in the middle of the ocean, a thousand miles away from
land. But this was not yet quite the end.
TITANIC STOOD UPRIGHT
To the amazement of the awed watchers in the life-boats, the doomed vessel
remained in that upright position for a time estimated at five minutes;
some in the boat say less, but it was certainly some minutes that at least
150 feet of the Titanic towered up above the level of the sea and loomed
black against the sky.
SAW LAST OF BIG SHIP
Then with a quiet, slanting dive she disappeared beneath the waters, and
the eyes of the helpless spectators had looked for the last time upon the
gigantic vessel on which they had set out from Southampton. And there was
left to the survivors only the gently heaving sea, the life-boats filled
with men and women in every conceivable condition of dress and undress,
above the perfect sky of brilliant stars with not a cloud, all tempered
with a bitter cold that made each man and woman long to be one of the crew
who toiled away with the oars and kept themselves warm thereby—a
curious, deadening; bitter cold unlike anything they had felt before.
“ONE LONG MOAN”
And then with all these there fell on the ear the most appalling noise
that human being has ever listened to—the cries of hundreds of
fellow-beings struggling in the icy cold water, crying for help with a cry
that could not be answered.
Third Officer Herbert John Pitman, in charge of one of the boats,
described this cry of agony in his testimony before the Senatorial
Investigating Committee, under the questioning of Senator Smith:
“I heard no cries of distress until after the ship went down,” he said.
“How far away were the cries from your life-boat?”
“Several hundred yards, probably, some of them.”
“Describe the screams.”
“Don’t, sir, please! I’d rather not talk about it.”
“I’m sorry to press it, but what was it like? Were the screams spasmodic?”
“It was one long continuous moan.”
The witness said the moans and cries continued an hour.
Those in the life-boats longed to return and pick up some of the poor
drowning souls, but they feared this would mean swamping the boats and a
further loss of life.
Some of the men tried to sing to keep the women from hearing the cries,
and rowed hard to get away from the scene of the wreck, but the memory of
those sounds will be one of the things the rescued will find it difficult
to forget.
The waiting sufferers kept a lookout for lights, and several times it was
shouted that steamers’ lights were seen, but they turned out to be either
a light from another boat or a star low down on the horizon. It was hard
to keep up hope.
WOMEN TRIED TO COMMIT SUICIDE
“Let me go back—I want to go back to my husband—I’ll jump from
the boat if you don’t,” cried an agonized voice in one life-boat.
“You can do no good by going back—other lives will be lost if you
try to do it. Try to calm yourself for the sake of the living. It may be
that your husband will be picked up somewhere by one of the fishing
boats.”
The woman who pleaded to go back, according to Mrs. Vera Dick, of Calgary,
Canada, later tried to throw herself from the life-boat. Mrs. Dick,
describing the scenes in the life-boats, said there were half a dozen
women in that one boat who tried to commit suicide when they realized that
the Titanic had gone down.
“Even in Canada, where we have such clear nights,” said Mrs. Dick, “I have
never seen such a clear sky. The stars were very bright and we could see
the Titanic plainly, like a great hotel on the water. Floor after floor of
the lights went out as we watched. It was horrible, horrible. I can’t bear
to think about it. From the distance, as we rowed away, we could hear the
band playing ‘Nearer, My God to Thee.’
“Among the life-boats themselves, however, there were scenes just as
terrible, perhaps, but to me nothing could outdo the tragic grandeur with
which the Titanic went to its death. To realize it, you would have to see
the Titanic as I saw it the day we set sail—with the flags flying
and the bands playing. Everybody on board was laughing and talking about
the Titanic being the biggest and most luxurious boat on the ocean and
being unsinkable. To think of it then and to think of it standing out
there in the night, wounded to death and gasping for life, is almost too
big for the imagination.
SCANTILY CLAD WOMEN IN LIFE-BOATS
“The women on our boat were in nightgowns and bare feet—some of them—and
the wealthiest women mingled with the poorest immigrants. One immigrant
woman kept shouting: ‘My God, my poor father! He put me in this boat and
would not save himself. Oh, why didn’t I die, why didn’t I die? Why can’t
I die now?’
“We had to restrain her, else she would have jumped over-board. It was
simply awful. Some of the men apparently had said they could row just to
get into the boats. We paid no attention to cowardice, however. We were
all busy with our own troubles. My heart simply bled for the women who
were separated from their husbands.
“The night was frightfully cold, although clear. We had to huddle together
to keep warm. Everybody drank sparingly of the water and ate sparingly of
the bread. We did not know when we would be saved. Everybody tried to
remain cool, except the poor creatures who could think of nothing but
their own great loss. Those with the most brains seemed to control
themselves best.”
PHILADELPHIA WOMEN HEROINES
How Mrs. George D. Widener, whose husband and son perished after kissing
her good-bye and helping her into one of the boats, rowed when exhausted
seamen were on the verge of collapse, was told by Emily Geiger, maid of
Mrs. Widener, who was saved with her.
The girl said Mrs. Widener bravely toiled throughout the night and
consoled other women who had broken down under the strain.
Mrs. William E. Carter and Mrs. John B. Thayer were in the same life-boat
and worked heroically to keep it free from the icy menace. Although Mrs.
Thayer’s husband remained aboard the Titanic and sank with it, and
although she had no knowledge of the safety of her son until they met,
hours later, aboard the Carpathia, Mrs. Thayer bravely labored at the oars
throughout the night.
In telling of her experience Mrs. Carter said:
“When I went over the side with my children and got in the boat there were
no seamen in it. Then came a few men, but there were oars with no one to
use them. The boat had been filled with passengers, and there was nothing
else for me to do but to take an oar.
“We could see now that the time of the ship had come. She was sinking, and
we were warned by cries from the men above to pull away from the ship
quickly. Mrs. Thayer, wife of the vice-president of the Pennsylvania
Railroad, was in my boat, and she, too, took an oar.
“It was cold and we had no time to clothe ourselves with warm overcoats.
The rowing warmed me. We started to pull away from the ship. We could see
the dim outlines of the decks above, but we could not recognize anybody.”
MANY WOMEN ROWING
Mrs. William R. Bucknell’s account of the part women played in the rowing
is as follows:
“There were thirty-five persons in the boat in which the captain placed
me. Three of these were ordinary seamen, supposed to manage the boat, and
a steward.
“One of these men seemed to think that we should not start away from the
sinking ship until it could be learned whether the other boats would
accommodate the rest of the women. He seemed to think that; more could be
crowded into ours, if necessary.
“‘I would rather go back and go down with the ship than leave under these
circumstances.’ he cried.
“The captain shouted to him to obey orders and to pull for a little light
that could just be discerned miles in the distance. I do not know what
this little light was. It may have been a passing fishing vessel, which,
of course could not know our predicament. Anyway, we never reached it.
“We rowed all night, I took an oar and sat beside the Countess de Rothes.
Her maid had an our and so did mine. The air was freezing cold, and it was
not long before the only man that appeared to know anything about rowing
commenced to complain that his hands were freezing: A woman back of him
handed him a shawl from about her shoulders.
“As we rowed we looked back at the lights of the Titanic. There was not a
sound from her, only the lights began to get lower and lower, and finally
she sank. Then we heard a muffled explosion and a dull roar caused by the
great suction of water.
“There was not a drop of water on our boat. The last minute before our
boat was launched Captain Smith threw aboard a bag of bread. I took the
precaution of taking a good drink of water before we started, so I
suffered no inconvenience from thirst.”
Mrs. Lucien Smith, whose young husband perished, was another heroine. It
is related by survivors that she took turns at the oars, and then, when
the boat was in danger of sinking, stood ready to plug a hole with her
finger if the cork stopper became loose.
In another boat Mrs. Cornell and her sister, who had a slight knowledge of
rowing, took turns at the oars, as did other women.
The boat in which Mrs. J. J. Brown, of Denver, Col., was saved contained
only three men in all, and only one rowed. He was a half-frozen seaman who
was tumbled into the boat at the last minute. The woman wrapped him in
blankets and set him at an oar to start his blood. The second man was too
old to be of any use. The third was a coward.
Strange to say, there was room in this boat for ten other people. Ten
brave men would have received the warmest welcome of their lives if they
had been there. The coward, being a quartermaster and the assigned head of
the boat, sat in the stern and steered. He was terrified, and the women
had to fight against his pessimism while they tugged at the oars.
The women sat two at each oar. One held the oar in place, the other did
the pulling. Mrs. Brown coached them and cheered them on. She told them
that the exercise would keep the chill out of their veins, and she spoke
hopefully of the likelihood that some vessel would answer the wireless
calls. Over the frightful danger of the situation the spirit of this woman
soared.
THE PESSIMIST
And the coward sat in his stern seat, terrified, his tongue loosened with
fright. He assured them there was no chance in the world. He had had
fourteen years’ experience, and he knew. First, they would have to row one
and a half miles at least to get out of the sphere of the suction, if they
did not want to go down. They would be lost, and nobody would ever find
them.
“Oh, we shall be picked up sooner or later,” said some of the braver ones.
No, said the man, there was no bread in the boat, no water; they would
starve—all that big boatload wandering the high seas with nothing to
eat, perhaps for days.
“Don’t,” cried Mrs. Brown. “Keep that to yourself, if you feel that way.
For the sake of these women and chil-dren, be a man. We have a smooth sea
and a fighting chance. Be a man.”
But the coward only knew that there was no compass and no chart aboard.
They sighted what they thought was a fishing smack on the horizon, showing
dimly in the early dawn. The man at the rudder steered toward it, and the
women bent to their oars again. They covered several miles in this way—but
the smack faded into the distance. They could not see it any longer. And
the coward said that everything was over.
They rowed back nine weary miles. Then the coward thought they must stop
rowing, and lie in the trough of the waves until the Carpathia should
appear. The women tried it for a few moments, and felt the cold creeping
into their bodies. Though exhausted from the hard physical labor they
thought work was better than freezing.
“Row again!” commanded Mrs. Brown.
“No, no, don’t,” said the coward.
“We shall freeze,” cried several of the women together. “We must row. We
have rowed all this time. We must keep on or freeze.”
When the coward still demurred, they told him plainly and once for all
that if he persisted in wanting them to stop rowing, they were going to
throw him overboard and be done with him for good. Something about the
look in the eye of that Mississippi-bred oarswoman, who seemed such a
force among her fellows, told him that he had better capitulate. And he
did.
COUNTESS ROTHES AN EXPERT OARSWOMAN
Miss Alice Farnam Leader, a New York physician, escaped from the Titanic
on the same boat which carried the Countess Rothes. “The countess is an
expert oarswoman,” said Doctor Leader, “and thoroughly at home on the
water. She practically took command of our boat when it was found that the
seaman who had been placed at the oars could not row skilfully. Several of
the women took their place with the countess at the oars and rowed in
turns, while the weak and unskilled stewards sat quietly in one end of the
boat.”
MEN COULD NOT ROW
“With nothing on but a nightgown I helped row one of the boats for three
hours,” said Mrs. Florence Ware, of Bristol, England.
“In our boat there were a lot of women, a steward and a fireman. None of
the men knew anything about managing a small boat, so some of the women
who were used to boats took charge.
“It was cold and I worked as hard as I could at an oar until we were
picked up. There was nothing to eat or drink on our boat.”
DEATHS ON THE LIFE-BOATS
“The temperature must have been below freezing,” testified another
survivor, “and neither men nor women in my boat were warmly clothed.
Several of them died. The officer in charge of the life-boat decided it
was better to bury the
{illust. caption = SURVIVORS OF THE GREAT MARINE DISASTER
The first authentic photograph,…}
{illust. caption = Copyright by Campbell Studio. N. Y.
COLONEL AND MRS. JOHN JACOB ASTOR
Mrs. Astor, nee Miss Madeline Force, was rescued. Colonel Astor who
bravely refused to take a place in the life-boats, went down with the
Titanic.}
bodies. Soon they were weighted so they would sink and were put overboard.
We could also see similar burials taking place from other life-boats that
were all around us.”
GAMBLERS WERE POLITE
In one boat were two card sharps. With the same cleverness that enabled
them to win money on board they obtained places in the boats with the
women.
In the boat with the gamblers were women in their night-gowns and women in
evening dress. None of the boats were properly equipped with food, but all
had enough bread and water to keep the rescued from starving until the
expected arrival of help.
To the credit of the gamblers who managed to escape, it should be said
that they were polite and showed the women every courtesy. All they wanted
was to be sure of getting in a boat. That once accomplished, they reverted
to their habitual practice of politeness and suavity. They were even
willing; to do a little manual labor, refusing to let women do any rowing.
The people on that particular boat were a sad group. Fathers had kissed
their daughters good-bye and husbands had parted from their wives. The
card sharps, however philosophized wonderfully about the will of the
Almighty and how strange His ways. They said that one must be prepared for
anything; that good always came from evil, and that every cloud had a
silvery lining{.}
“Who knows?” said one. “It may be that everybody on board will be saved.”
Another added: “Our duty is to the living. You women owe it to your
relatives and friends not to allow this thing to wreck your reason or
undermine your health.” And they took pains to see that all the women who
were on the life-boat had plenty of covering to keep them from the icy
blasts of the night.
HELP IN SIGHT
The survivors were in the life-boats until about 5.30 A. M. About 3 A. M.
faint lights appeared in the sky and all rejoiced to see what was supposed
to be the coming dawn, but after watching for half an hour and seeing no
change in the intensity of the light, the disappointed sufferers realized
it was the Northern Lights. Presently low down on the horizon they saw a
light which slowly resolved itself into a double light, and they watched
eagerly to see if the two lights would separate and so prove to be only
two of the boats, or whether these lights would remain together, in which
case they should expect them to be the lights of a rescuing steamer.
To the inexpressible joy of all, they moved as one! Immediately the boats
were swung around and headed for the lights. Someone shouted: “Now, boys,
sing!” and everyone not too weak broke into song with “Row for the shore,
boys.” Tears came to the eyes of all as they realized that safety was at
hand. The song was sung, but it was a very poor imitation of the real
thing, for quavering voices make poor songs. A cheer was given next, and
that was better—you can keep in tune for a cheer.
THE “LUCKY THIRTEEN”
“Our rescuer showed up rapidly, and as she swung round we saw her cabins
all alight, and knew she must be a large steamer. She was now motionless
and we had to row to her. Just then day broke, a beautiful quiet dawn with
faint pink clouds just above the horizon, and a new moon whose crescent
just touched the horizon. ‘Turn your money over, boys,’ said our cheery
steersman, ‘that is, if you have any with you,’ he added.
“We laughed at him for his superstition at such a time, but he countered
very neatly by adding: ‘Well, I shall never say again that 13 is an
unlucky number; boat 13 has been the best friend we ever had.’ Certainly
the 13 superstition is killed forever in the minds of those who escaped
from the Titanic in boat 13.
“As we neared the Carpathia we saw in the dawning light what we thought
was a full-rigged schooner standing up near her, and presently behind her
another, all sails set, and we said: ‘They are fisher boats from the
Newfoundland bank and have seen the steamer lying to and are standing by
to help.’ But in another five minutes the light shone pink on them and we
saw they were icebergs towering many feet in the air, huge, glistening
masses, deadly white, still, and peaked in a way that had easily suggested
a schooner. We glanced round the horizon and there were others wherever
the eye could reach. The steamer we had to reach was surrounded by them
and we had to make a detour to reach her, for between her and us lay
another huge berg.”
A WONDERFUL DAWN
Speaking of the moment when the Carpathia was sighted. Mrs. J. J. Brown,
who had cowed the driveling quartermaster, said:
“Then, knowing that we were safe at last, I looked about me. The most
wonderful dawn I have ever seen came upon us. I have just returned from
Egypt. I have been all over the world, but I have never seen anything like
this. First the gray and then the flood of light. Then the sun came up in
a ball of red fire. For the first time we saw where we were. Near us was
open water, but on every side was ice. Ice ten feet high was everywhere,
and to the right and left and back and front were icebergs. Some of them
were mountain high. This sea of ice was forty miles wide, they told me. We
did not wait for the Carpathia to come to us, we rowed to it. We were
lifted up in a sort of nice little sling that was lowered to us. After
that it was all over. The passengers of the Carpathia were so afraid that
we would not have room enough that they gave us practically the whole ship
to ourselves.”
It had been learned that some of the passengers, in fact all of the women
passengers of the Titanic who were rescued, refer to “Lady Margaret,” as
they called Mrs. Brown as the strength of them all.
TRANSFERRING THE RESCUED
Officers of the Carpathia report that when they reached the scene of the
Titanic’s wreck there were fifty bodies or more floating in the sea. Only
one mishap attended the transfer of the rescued from the life-boats. One
large collapsible life-boat, in which thirteen persons were seated, turned
turtle just as they were about to save it, and all in it were lost.
THE DOG HERO
Not the least among the heroes of the Titanic disaster was Rigel, a big
black Newfoundland dog, belonging to the first officer, who went down with
the ship. But for Rigel the fourth boat picked up might have been run down
by the Carpathia. For three hours he swam in the icy water where the
Titanic went down, evidently looking for his master, and was instrumental
in guiding the boatload of survivors to the gangway of the Carpathia.
Jonas Briggs, a seaman abroad the Carpathia, now has Rigel and told the
story of the dog’s heroism. The Carpathia was moving slowly about, looking
for boats, rafts or anything which might be afloat. Exhausted with their
efforts, weak from lack of food and exposure to the cutting wind and
terror-stricken, the men and women in the fourth boat had drifted under
the Carpathia’s starboard bow. They were dangerously close to the
steamship, but too weak to shout a warning loud enough to reach the
bridge.
The boat might not have been seen were it not for the sharp barking of
Rigel, who was swimming ahead of the craft, and valiantly announcing his
position. The barks attracted the attention of Captain Rostron; and he
went to the starboard end of the bridge to see where they came from and
saw the boat. He immediately ordered the engines stopped, and the boat
came alongside the starboard gangway.
Care was taken to get Rigel aboard, but he appeared little affected by his
long trip through the ice-cold water. He stood by the rail and barked
until Captain Rostron called Briggs and had him take the dog below.
A THRILLING ACCOUNT OF RESCUE
Mr. Wallace Bradford, of San Francisco, a passenger aboard the Carpathia,
gave the following thrilling account of the rescue of the Titanic’s
passengers.
“Since half-past four this morning I have experienced one of those
never-to-be-forgotten circumstances that weighs heavy on my soul and which
shows most awfully what poor things we mortals are. Long before this
reaches you the news will be flashed that the Titanic has gone down and
that our steamer, the Carpathia, caught the wireless message when
seventy-five miles away, and so far we have picked up twenty boats
estimated to contain about 750 people.
“None of us can tell just how many, as they have been hustled to various
staterooms and to the dining saloons to be warmed up. I was awakened by
unusual noises and imagined that I smelled smoke. I jumped up and looked
out of my port-hole, and saw a huge iceberg looming up like a rock off
shore. It was not white, and I was positive that it was a rock, and the
thought flashed through my mind, how in the world can we be near a rock
when we are four days out from New York in a southerly direction and in
mid-ocean.
“When I got out on deck the first man I encountered told me that the
Titanic had gone down and we were rescuing the passengers. The first two
boats from the doomed vessel were in sight making toward us. Neither of
them was crowded. This was accounted for later by the fact that it was
impossible to get many to leave the steamer, as they would not believe
that she was going down. It was a glorious, clear morning and a quiet sea.
Off to the starboard was a white area of ice plain, from whose even
surface rose mammoth forts, castles and pyramids of solid ice almost as
real as though they had been placed there by the hand of man.
“Our steamer was hove to about two and a half miles from the edge of this
huge iceberg. The Titanic struck about 11.20 P. M. and did not go down
until two o’clock. Many of the passengers were in evening dress when they
came aboard our ship, and most of these were in a most bedraggled
condition. Near me as I write is a girl about eighteen years old in a
fancy dress costume of bright colors, while in another seat near by is a
women in a white dress trimmed with lace and covered with jaunty blue
flowers.
“As the boats came alongside after the first two all of them contained a
very large proportion of women. In fact, one of the boats had women at the
oars, one in particular containing, as near as I could estimate, about
forty-five women and only about six men. In this boat two women were
handling one of the oars. All of the engineers went down with the steamer.
Four bodies have been brought aboard. One is that of a fireman, who is
said to have been shot by one of the officers because he refused to obey
orders. Soon after I got on deck I could, with the aid of my glasses,
count seven boats headed our way, and they continued to come up to half
past eight o’clock. Some were in sight for a long time and moved very
slowly, showing plainly that the oars were being handled by amateurs or by
women.
“No baggage of any kind was brought by the survivors. In fact, the only
piece of baggage that reached the Carpathia from the Titanic is a small
closed trunk about twenty-four inches square, evidently the property of an
Irish female immigrant. While some seemed fully dressed, many of the men
having their overcoats and the women sealskin and other coats, others came
just as they had jumped from their berths, clothed in their pajamas and
bath robes.”
THE SORROW OF THE LIVING
Of the survivors in general it may be said that they escaped death and
they gained life. Life is probably sweet to them as it is to everyone, but
what physical and mental torture has been the price of life to those who
were brought back to land on the Carpathia—the hours in life-boats,
amid the crashing of ice, the days of anguish that have succeeded, the
horrors of body and mind still experienced and never to be entirely absent
until death affords them its relief.
The thought of the nation to-day is for the living. They need our
sympathy, our consolation more than do the dead, and, perhaps, in the
majority of the cases they need our protecting care as well.
CHAPTER X. ON BOARD THE CARPATHIA
AID FOR THE SUFFERING AND HYSTERICAL—BURYING THE DEAD—VOTE OF
THANKS TO CAPTAIN ROSTRON OF THE CARPATHIA—IDENTIFYING THOSE SAVED—COMMUNICATING
WITH LAND—THE PASSAGE TO NEW YORK.
IF the scenes in the life-boats were tear-bringing, hardly less so was the
arrival of the boats at the Carpathia with their bands of terror-stricken,
grief-ridden survivors, many of them too exhausted to know that safety was
at hand. Watchers on the Carpathia were moved to tears.
“The first life-boat reached the Carpathia about half-past five o’clock in
the morning,” recorded one of the passengers on the Carpathia. “And the
last of the sixteen boats was unloaded before nine o’clock. Some of the
life-boats were only half filled, the first one having but two men and
eleven women, when it had accommodations for at least forty. There were
few men in the boats. The women were the gamest lot I have ever seen. Some
of the men and women were in evening clothes, and others among those saved
had nothing on but night clothes and raincoats.”
After the Carpathia had made certain that there were no more passengers of
the Titanic to be picked up, she threaded her way out of the ice fields
for fifty miles. It was dangerous work, but it was managed without
trouble.
AID FOR THE SUFFERING AND HYSTERICAL
The shrieks and cries of the women and men picked up in life-boats by the
Carpathia were horrible. The women were clothed only in night robes and
wrappers. The men were in their night garments. One was lifted on board
entirely nude. All the passengers who could bear nourishment were taken
into the dining rooms and cabins by Captain Rostron and given food and
stimulants. Passengers of the Carpathia gave up their berths and
staterooms to the survivors.
As soon as they were landed on the Carpathia many of the women became
hysterical, but on the whole they behaved splendidly. Men and women
appeared to be stunned all day Monday, the full force of the disaster not
reaching them until Tuesday night. After being wrapped up in blankets and
filled with brandy and hot coffee, the first thoughts were for their
husbands and those at home. Most of them imagined that their husbands had
been picked up by other vessels, and they began flooding the wireless
rooms with messages. It was almost certain that those who were not on
board the Carpathia had gone down to death.
One of the most seriously injured was a woman who had lost both her
children. Her limbs had been severely torn; but she was very patient.
WOMEN SEEKING NEWS
In the first cabin library women of wealth and refinement mingled their
grief and asked eagerly for news of the possible arrival of a belated
boat, or a message from other steamers telling of the safety of their
husbands. Mrs. Henry B. Harris, wife of a New York theatrical manager,
checked her tears long enough to beg that some message of hope be sent to
her father-in-law. Mrs. G. Thorne, Miss Marie Young, Mrs Emil Taussig and
her daughter, Ruth, Mrs. Martin Rothschild, Mrs. William Augustus Spencer,
Mrs. J. Stewart White and Mrs. Walter M. Clark were a few of those who lay
back, exhausted, on the leather cushions and told in shuddering sentences
of their experiences.
Mrs. John Jacob Astor and the Countess of Rothes had been taken to
staterooms soon after their arrival on shipboard.
Before noon, at the captain’s request, the first cabin passengers of the
Titanic gathered in the saloon and the passengers of other classes in
corresponding places on the rescue ship. Then the collecting of names was
begun by the purser and the stewards. A second table was served in both
cabins for the new guests, and the Carpathia’s second cabin, being better
filled than its first, the second class arrivals had to be sent to the
steerage.
TEARS THEIR ONLY RELIEF
Mrs. Jacques Futrelle, wife of the novelist, herself a writer of note, sat
dry eyed in the saloon, telling her friends that she had given up hope for
her husband. She joined with the rest in inquiries as to the chances of
rescue by another ship, and no one told her what soon came to be the fixed
opinion of the men—that all those saved were on the Carpathia.
“I feel better,” Mrs. Futrelle said hours afterward, “for I can cry now.”
Among the men conversation centered on the accident and the responsibility
for it. Many expressed the belief that the Titanic, in common with other
vessels, had had warning of the ice packs, but that in the effort to
establish a record on the maiden run sufficient heed had not been paid to
the warnings.
“God knows I’m not proud to be here,” said a rich New York man. “I got on
a boat when they were about to lower it and when, from delays below, there
was no woman to take the vacant place. I don’t think any man who was saved
is deserving of censure, but I realize that, in contrast with those who
went down, we may be viewed unfavorably.” He showed a picture of his baby
boy as he spoke.
PITIFUL SCENES OF GRIEF
As the day passed the fore part of the ship assumed some degree of order
and comfort, but the crowded second sabin and rear decks gave forth the
incessant sound of lamentation. A bride of two months sat on the floor and
moaned her widowhood. An Italian mother shrieked the name of her lost son.
A girl of seven wept over the loss of her Teddy bear and two dolls, while
her mother, with streaming eyes, dared not tell the child that her father
was lost too, and that the money for which their home in England had been
sold had gone down with him. Other children clung to the necks of the
fathers who, because carrying them, had been permitted to take the boats.
In the hospital and the public rooms lay, in blankets, several others who
had been benumbed by the water. Mrs. Rosa Abbott, who was in the water for
hours, was restored during the day. K. Whiteman, the Titanic’s barber, who
declared he was blown off the ship by the second of the two explosions
after the crash, was treated for bruises. A passenger, who was thoroughly
ducked before being picked up, caused much amusement on this ship, soon
after the doctors were through with him, by demanding a bath.
SURVIVORS AID THE DESTITUTE
Storekeeper Prentice, the last man off the Titanic to reach this ship, was
also soon over the effects of his long swim in the icy waters into which
he leaped from the poop deck.
The physicians of the Carpathia were praised, as was Chief Steward Hughes,
for work done in making the arrivals comfortable and averting serious
illness.
Monday night on the Carpathia was one of rest. The wailing and sobbing of
the day were hushed as widows and orphans slept. Tuesday, save for the
crowded condition of the ship, matters took somewhat their normal
appearance.
The second cabin dining room had been turned into a hospital to care for
the injured, and the first, second and third class dining rooms were used
for sleeping rooms at night for women, while the smoking rooms were set
aside for men. All available space was used, some sleeping in chairs and
some on the floor, while a few found rest in the bathrooms.
Every cabin had been filled, and women and children were sleeping on the
floors in the dining saloon, library and smoking rooms. The passengers of
the Carpathia had divided their clothes with the shipwrecked ones until
they had at least kept warm. It is true that many women had to appear on
deck in kimonos and some in underclothes with a coat thrown over them, but
their lives had been spared and they had not thought of dress. Some
children in the second cabin were entirely without clothes, but the women
had joined together, and with needles and thread they could pick up from
passenger to passenger, had made warm clothes out of the blankets
belonging to the Carpathia.
WOMEN BEFRIENDED ONE ANOTHER
The women aboard the Carpathia did what they could by word and act to
relieve the sufferings of the rescued. Most of the survivors were in great
need of clothing, and this the women of the Carpathia supplied to them as
long as their surplus stock held out.
J. A. Shuttleworth, of Louisville, Ky., befriended Mrs. Lucien Smith,
whose husband went down with the Titanic. Mrs. Smith was formerly Miss
Eloise Hughes, daughter of Representative and Mrs. James A. Hughes, of
Huntington, W. Va., and was on her wedding trip. Mr. Shuttleworth asked
her if there wasn’t something he could do for her. She said that all the
money she had was lost on the Titanic, so Mr. Shuttleworth gave her $500
DEATHS ON THE CARPATHIA
Two of the rescued from the Titanic died from shock and exposure before
they reached the Carpathia, and another died a few minutes after being
taken on board. The dead were W. H. Hoyte, first cabin; Abraham Hormer,
third class, and S. C. Sirbert, steward, and they were buried at sea the
morning of April 15th, latitude 41.14 north, longitude 51.24 west. P.
Lyon, able seaman, died and was buried at sea the following morning.
An assistant steward lost his mind upon seeing one of the Titanic’s
rescued firemen expire after being lifted to the deck of the Carpathia.
An Episcopal bishop and a Catholic priest from Montreal read services of
their respective churches over the dead.
The bodies were sewed up in sacks, heavily weighted at the feet, and taken
to an opening in the side of the ship on the lower deck not far above the
water line. A long plank tilted at one end served as the incline down
which the weighted sacks slid into the sea.
“After we got the Titanic’s passengers on board our ship,” said one of the
Carpathia’s officers, “it was a question as to where we should take them.
Some said the Olympic would come out and meet us and take them on to New
York, but others said they would die if they had to be lowered again into
small boats to be taken up by another, so we finally turned toward New
York, delaying the Carpathia’s passengers eight days in reaching
Gibraltar.”
SURVIVORS WATCH NEW BOATS
There were several children on board, who had lost their parents—one
baby of eleven months with a nurse who, coming on board the Carpathia with
the first boat, watched with eagerness and sorrow for each incoming boat,
but to no avail. The parents had gone down.
There was a woman in the second cabin who lost seven children out of ten,
and there were many other losses quite as horrible.
MR. ISMY “PITIABLE SIGHT”
Among the rescued ones who came on board the Carpathia was the president
of the White Star Line.
“Mr. Ismay reached the Carpathia in about the tenth life-boat,” said an
officer. “I didn’t know who he was, but afterward heard the others of the
crew discussing his desire to get something to eat the minute he put his
foot on deck. The steward who waited on him, McGuire, from London, says
Mr. Ismay came dashing into the dining room, and throwing himself in a
chair, said: ‘Hurry, for God’s sake, and get me something to eat; I’m
starved. I don’t care what it costs or what it is; bring it to me.’
“McGuire brought Mr. Ismay a load of stuff and when he had finished it, he
handed McGuire a two dollar bill. ‘Your money is no good on this ship,’
McGuire told him. ‘Take it.’
{illust. caption = DIAGRAM OF THE TITANIC’S ARRANGEMENT AND EQUIPMENT
The Titanic was far and away the largest and finest vessel ever built,
excepting only her sister-ship, the Olympic. Her dimensions were: Length,
882 1/2 feet; Beam, 92 feet, Depth (from keel to tops of funnels), 175
feet Tonnage, 45,000. Her huge hull, divided into thirty watertight
compartments, contained nine steel decks, and provided accommodation for
2,500 passengers, besides a crew of 890.}
{illust. caption = UPPER DECK OF THE TITANIC, LOOKING FORWARD}
insisted Mr. Ismay, shoving the bill in McGuire’s hand. I am well able to
afford it. I will see to it that the boys of the Carpathia are well
rewarded for this night’s work.’ This promise started McGuire making
inquiries as to the identity of the man he had waited on. Then we learned
that he was Mr. Ismay. I did not see Mr. Ismay after the first few hours.
He must have kept to his cabin.”
A passenger on the Carpathia said there was no wonder that none of the
wireless telegrams addressed to Mr. Ismay were answered until the one that
he sent yesterday afternoon to his line, the White Star.
“Mr. Ismay was beside himself,” said this woman passenger, “and on most of
the voyage after we had picked him up he was being quieted with opiates on
orders of the ship’s doctor.
FIVE DOGS AND ONE PIG SAVED
“Five women saved their pet dogs, carrying them in their arms. Another
woman saved a little pig, which she said was her mascot. Though her
husband is an Englishman and she lives in England she is an American and
was on her way to visit her folks here. How she cared for the pig aboard
ship I do not know, but she carried it up the side of the ship in a big
bag. I did not mind the dogs so much, but it seemed to me to be too much
when a pig was saved and human beings went to death.
“It was not until noon on Monday that we cleared the last of the ice, and
Monday night a dense fog came up and continued until the following
morning, then a strong wind, a heavy sea, a thunderstorm and a dense fog
Tuesday night, caused some uneasiness among the more unnerved, the fog
continuing all of Tuesday.
“A number of whales were sighted as the Carpathia was clearing the last of
the ice, one large one being close by, and all were spouting like
geysers.”
VOTE OF THANKS TO CARPATHIA
“On Tuesday afternoon a meeting of the uninjured survivors was called in
the main saloon for the purpose of devising means of assisting the more
unfortunate, many of whom had lost relatives and all their personal
belongings, and thanking Divine Providence for their deliverance. The
meeting was called to order and Mr. Samuel Goldenberg was elected
chairman. Resolutions were then passed thanking the officers, surgeons,
passengers and crew of the Carpathia for their splendid services in aiding
the rescued and like resolutions for the admirable work done by the
officers, surgeons and crew of the Titanic.
“A committee was then appointed to raise funds on board the Carpathia to
relieve the immediate wants of the destitute and assist them in reaching
their destinations and also to present a loving cup to the officers of the
Carpathia and also a loving cup to the surviving officers of the Titanic.
“Mr. T. G. Frauenthal, of New York, was made chairman of the Committee on
Subscriptions.
“A committee, consisting of Mrs. J. J. Brown, Mrs William Bucknell and
Mrs. George Stone, was appointed to look after the destitute. There was a
subscription taken up and up to Wednesday the amount contributed totaled
$15,000.
“The work of the crew on board the Carpathia in rescuing was most noble
and remarkable, and these four days that the ship has been overcrowded
with its 710 extra passengers could not have been better handled. The
stewards have worked with undying strength—although one was overcome
with so much work and died and was put to his grave at sea.
“I have never seen or felt the benefits of such royal treatment. I have
heard the captain criticised because he did not answer telegrams, but all
that I can say is that he showed us every possible courtesy, and if we had
been on our own boats, having paid our fares there, we could not have had
better food or better accommodations.
“Men who had paid for the best staterooms on the Carpathia left their
rooms so that we might have them. They fixed up beds in the smoking rooms,
and mattresses everywhere. All the women who were rescued were given the
best staterooms, which were surrendered by the regular passengers. None of
the regular passengers grumbled because their trip to Europe was
interrupted, nor did they complain that they were put to the inconvenience
of receiving hundreds of strangers.
“The women on board the Carpathia were particularly kind. It shows that
for every cruelty of nature there is a kindness, for every misfortune
there is some goodness. The men and women took up collections on board for
the rescued steerage passengers. Mrs. Astor, I believe, contributed $2000,
her check being cashed by the Carpathia. Altogether something like $15,000
was collected and all the women were provided with sufficient money to
reach their destination after they were landed in New York.”
Under any other circumstances the suffering would have been intolerable.
But the Good Samaritans on the Carpathia gave many women heart’s-ease.
The spectacle on board the Carpathia on the return trip to New York at
times was heartrending, while at other times those on board were quite
cheerful.
CHAPTER XI. PREPARATIONS ON LAND TO RECEIVE THE SUFFERERS
POLICE ARRANGEMENTS—DONATIONS OF MONEY AND SUPPLIES—HOSPITALS
AND AMBULANCES MADE READY—PRIVATE HOUSES THROWN OPEN—WAITING
FOR THE CARPATHIA TO ARRIVE—THE SHIP SIGHTED!
NEW YORK CITY, touched to the heart by the great ocean calamity and
desiring to do what it could to lighten the woes and relieve the
sufferings of the pitiful little band of men and women rescued from the
Titanic, opened both its heart and its purse.
The most careful and systematic plans were made for the reception and
transfer to homes, hotels or institutions of the Titanic’s survivors.
Mayor Gaynor, with Police Commissioner Waldo, arranged to go down the bay
on the police boat Patrol, to come up with the Carpathia and take charge
of the police arrangements at the pier.
In anticipation of the enormous number that would, for a variety of
reasons, creditable or otherwise, surge about the Cunard pier at the
coming of the Carpathia, Mayor Gaynor and the police commissioner had seen
to it that the streets should be rigidly sentineled by continuous lines of
policemen Under Inspector George McClusky, the man of most experience,
perhaps, in handling large crowds, there were 200 men, including twelve
mounted men and a number in citizens’ clothes. For two blocks to the
north, south and east of the docks lines were established through which
none save those bearing passes from the Government and the Cunard Line
could penetrate.
With all arrangements made that experience or information could suggest,
the authorities settled down to await the docking of the Carpathia. No
word had come to either the White Star Line or the Cunard Line, they said,
that any of the Titanic’s people had died on that ship or that bodies had
been recovered from the sea, but in the afternoon Mayor Gaynor sent word
to the Board of Coroners that it might be well for some of that body to
meet the incoming ship. Coroners Feinberg and Holtzhauser with Coroner’s
Physician Weston arranged to go down the bay on the Patrol, while Coroner
Hellenstein waited at the pier. An undertaker was notified to be ready if
needed. Fortunately there was no such need.
EVERY POSSIBLE MEASURE THOUGHT OF
Every possible measure of relief for the survivors that could be thought
of by officials of the city, of the Federal Government, by the heads of
hospitals and the Red Cross and relief societies was arranged for. The
Municipal Lodging House, which has accommodations for 700 persons, agreed
to throw open its doors and furnish lodging and food to any of the
survivors as long as they should need it. Commissioner of Charities
Drummond did not know, of course, just how great the call would be for the
services of his department. He went to the Cunard pier to direct his part
of the work in person. Meanwhile he had twenty ambulances ready for
instant movement on the city’s pier at the foot of East Twenty-sixth
Street. They were ready to take patients to the reception hospital
connected with Bellevue or the Metropolitan Hospital on Blackwell’s
Island. Ambulances from the Kings County Hospital in Brooklyn were also
there to do their share. All the other hospitals in the city stood ready
to take the Titanic’s people and those that had ambulances promised to
send them. The Charities ferryboat, Thomas S. Brennan, equipped as a
hospital craft, lay off the department pier with nurses and physicians
ready to be called to the Cunard pier on the other side of the city. St.
Vincent’s Hospital had 120 beds ready, New York Hospital twelve, Bellevue
and the reception hospital 120 and Flower Hospital twelve.
The House of Shelter maintained by the Hebrew Sheltering and Immigrant Aid
Society announced that it was able to care for at least fifty persons as
long as might be necessary. The German Society of New York, the Irish
Immigrant Society, the Italian Society, the Swedish Immigrant Society and
the Young Men’s Christian Association were among the organizations that
also offered to see that no needy survivor would go without shelter.
Mrs. W. A. Bastede, whose husband is a member of the staff of St. Luke’s
Hospital, offered to the White Star Line the use of the newly opened ward
at St. Luke’s, which will accommodate from thirty to sixty persons. She
said the hospital would send four ambulances with nurses and doctors and
that she had collected clothing enough for fifty persons. The line
accepted her offer and said that the hospital would be kept informed as to
what was needed. A trustee of Bellevue also called at the White Star
offices to offer ambulances. He said that five or six, with two or three
doctors and nurses on each, would be sent to the pier if required.
Many other hospitals as well as individuals called at the mayor’s office,
expressing willingness to take in anybody that should be sent to them. A
woman living in Fiftieth Street just off Fifth Avenue wished to put her
home at the disposal of the survivors. D. H. Knott, of 102 Waverley Place,
told the mayor that he could take care of 100 and give them both food and
lodging at the Arlington, Holly and Earl Hotels. Commissioner Drummond
visited the City Hall and arranged with the mayor the plans for the relief
to be extended directly by the city. Mr. Drummond said that omnibuses
would be provided to transfer passengers from the ship to the Municipal
Lodging House.
MRS. VANDERBILT’S EFFORTS
Mrs. W. K. Vanderbilt, Jr., spent the day telephoning to her friends,
asking them to let their automobiles be used to meet the Carpathia and
take away those who needed surgical care. It was announced that as a
result of Mrs. Vanderbilt’s efforts 100 limousine automobiles and all the
Fifth Avenue and Riverside Drive automobile buses would be at the Cunard
pier.
Immigration Commissioner Williams said that he would be at the pier when
the Carpathia came in. There was to be no inspection of immigrants at
Ellis Island. Instead, the commissioner sent seven or eight inspectors to
the pier to do their work there and he asked them to do it with the
greatest possible speed and the least possible bother to the shipwrecked
aliens. The immigrants who had no friends to meet them were to be provided
for until their cases could be disposed of. Mr. Williams thought that some
of them who had lost everything might have to be sent back to their homes.
Those who were to be admitted to the United States were to be cared for by
the Women’s Relief Committee.
RED CROSS RELIEF
Robert W. de Forest, chairman of the Red Cross Relief Committee of the
Charity Organization Society, after conferring with Mayor Gaynor, said
that in addition to an arrangement that all funds received by the mayor
should be paid to Jacob H. Schiff, the New York treasurer of the American
Red Cross, the committee had decided that it could turn over all the
immediate relief work to the Women’s Relief Committee.
The Red Cross Committee announced that careful plans had been made to
provide for every possible emergency.
The emergency committee received a telegram that Ernest P. Bicknell,
director of the American Red Cross, was coming from Washington. The Red
Cross Emergency Relief Committee was to have several representatives at
the pier to look out for the passengers on the Carpathia. Mr. Persons and
Dr. Devine were to be there and it was planned to have others.
The Salvation Army offered, through the mayor’s office, accommodation for
thirty single men at the Industrial Home, 533 West Forty-eighth Street,
and for twenty others at its hotel, 18 Chatham Square. The army’s training
school at 124 West Fourteenth Street was ready to take twenty or thirty
survivors. R. H. Farley, head of the White Star Line’s third class
department, said that the line would give all the steerage passengers
railroad tickets to their destination.
Mayor Gaynor estimated that more than 5000 persons could be accommodated
in quarters offered through his orders. Most of these offers of course
would have to be rejected. The mayor also said that Colonel Conley of the
Sixty-ninth Regiment offered to turn out his regiment to police the pier,
but it was thought that such service would be unnecessary.
CROWDS AT THE DOCKS
Long before dark on Thursday night a few people passed the police lines
and with a yellow card were allowed to go on the dock; but reports had
been published that the Carpathia would not be in till midnight, and by 8
o’clock there were not more than two hundred people on the pier. In the
next hour the crowd with passes trebled in number. By 9 o’clock the pier
held half as many as it could comfortably contain. The early crowd did not
contain many women relatives of the survivors. Few nervous people could be
seen, but here and there was a woman, usually supported by two male
escorts, weeping softly to herself.
On the whole it was a frantic, grief-crazed crowd. Laborers rubbed
shoulders with millionaires.
The relatives of the rich had taxicabs waiting outside the docks. The
relatives of the poor went there on foot in the rain, ready to take their
loved ones.
A special train was awaiting Mrs. Charles M. Hays, widow of the president
of the Grand Trunk Railroad. A private car also waited Mrs. George D.
Widener.
EARLY ARRIVALS AT PIER
Among the first to arrive at the pier was a committee from the Stock
Exchange, headed by R. H. Thomas, and composed of Charles Knoblauch, B. M.
W. Baruch, Charles Holzderber and J. Carlisle. Mr. Thomas carried a long
black box which contained $5000 in small bills, which was to be handed out
to the needy steerage survivors of the Titanic as they disembarked.
With the early arrivals at the pier were the relatives of Frederick White,
who was not reported among the survivors, though Mrs. White was; Harry
Mock, who came to look for a brother and sister; and Vincent Astor, who
arrived in a limousine with William A. Dobbyn, Colonel Astor’s secretary,
and two doctors. The limousine was kept waiting outside to take Mrs. Astor
to the Astor home on Fifth Avenue.
EIGHT LIMOUSINE CARS
The Waldorf-Astoria had sent over eight limousine car to convey to the
hotel these survivors:
Mrs. Mark Fortune and three daughters, Mrs. Lucien P. Smith, Mrs. J.
Stewart White, Mrs. Thornton Davidson, Mrs. George C. Douglass, Mrs.
George D. Widener and maid, Mrs. George Wick, Miss Bonnell, Miss E.
Ryerson, Mrs. Susan P. Ryerson, Mrs. Arthur Ryerson, Miss Mary Wick, the
Misses Howell, Mrs. John P. Snyder and Mr. and Mrs. D. H. Bishop.
THIRTY-FIVE AMBULANCES AT THE PIER
At one time there were thirty-five ambulances drawn up; outside the Cunard
pier. Every hospital in Manhattan, Brooklyn and the Bronx was represented.
Several of the ambulances came from as far north as the Lebanon Hospital,
in the Bronx, and the Brooklyn Hospital, in Brooklyn.
Accompanying them were seventy internes and surgeons from the staffs of
the hospitals, and more than 125 male and female nurses.
St. Vincent’s sent the greatest number of ambulances, at one time, eight
of them from this hospital being in line at the pier.
Miss Eva Booth, direct head of the Salvation Army, was at the pier,
accompanied by Miss Elizabeth Nye and a corps of her officers, ready to
aid as much as possible. The Sheltering Society and various other similar
organizations also were represented, all ready to take care of those who
needed them.
An officer of the Sixty-ninth Regiment, N. G. N. Y., offered the White
Star Line officials, the use of the regiment’s armory for any of the
survivors.
Mrs. Thomas Hughes, Mrs. August Belmont and Mgrs. Lavelle and McMahon, of
St. Patrick’s Cathedral, together with a score of black-robed Sisters of
Charity, representing the Association of Catholic Churches, were on the
pier long before the Carpathia was made fast, and worked industriously in
aiding the injured and ill.
The Rev. Dr. William Carter, pastor of the Madison Avenue Reformed Church,
was one of those at the pier with a private ambulance awaiting Miss Sylvia
Caldwell, one of the survivors, who is known in church circles as a
mission worker in foreign fields
FREE RAILROAD TRANSPORTATION
The Pennsylvania Railroad sent representatives to the pier, who said that
the railroad had a special train of nine cars in which it would carry free
any passenger who wanted to go immediately to Philadelphia or points west.
The Pennsylvania also had eight taxicabs at the pier for conveyance of the
rescued to the Pennsylvania Station, in Thirty-third Street.
Among those who later arrived at the pier before the Carpathia docked were
P. A. B. Widener, of Philadelphia, two women relatives of J. B. Thayer,
William Harris, Jr., the theatrical man, who was accompanied by Dr
Dinkelspiel, and Henry Arthur Jones, the playwright.
RELATIVES OF SAVED AND LOST
Commander Booth, of the Salvation Army, was there especially to meet Mrs.
Elizabeth Nye and Mrs. Rogers Abbott, both Titanic survivors. Mrs.
Abbott’s two sons were supposed to be among the lost. Miss Booth had
received a cablegram from London saying that other Salvation Army people
were on the Titanic. She was eager to get news of them.
Also on the pier was Major Blanton, U. S. A., stationed at Washington, who
was waiting for tidings of Major Butt, supposedly at the instance of
President Taft.
Senator William A. Clark and Mrs. Clark were also in the company. Dr. John
R. MacKenty was waiting for Mr. and Mrs. Henry S. Harper. Ferdinand W.
Roebling and Carl G. Roebling, cousins of Washington A. Roebling, Jr.,
whose name is among the list of dead, went to the pier to see what they
could learn of his fate.
J. P. Morgan, Jr., arrived at the pier about half an hour before the
Carpathia docked. He said he had many friends on the Titanic and was
eagerly awaiting news of all of them.
Fire Commissioner Johnson was there with John Peel, of Atlanta, Gal, a
brother of Mrs. Jacques Futrelle. Mrs. Futrelle has a son twelve years old
in Atlanta, and a daughter Virginia, who has been in school in the North
and is at present with friends in this city, ignorant of her father’s
death.
A MAN IN HYSTERICS
There was one man in that sad waiting company who startled those near him
about 9 o’clock by dancing across the pier and back. He seemed to be
laughing, but when he was stopped it was found that he was sobbing. He
said that he had a relative on the Titanic and had lost control of his
nerves.
H. H. Brunt, of Chicago, was at the gangplank waiting for A. Saalfeld,
head of the wholesale drug firm of Sparks, White & Co., of London, who
was coming to this country on the Titanic on a business trip and whose
life was saved.
WAITING FOR CARPATHIA
During the afternoon and evening tugboats, motor boats and even sailing
craft, had been waiting off the Ambrose Light for the appearance of the
Carpathia.
Some of the waiting craft contained friends and anxious relatives of the
survivors and those reported as missing.
The sea was rough and choppy, and a strong east wind was blowing. There
was a light fog, so that it was possible to see at a distance of only a
few hundred yards. This lifted later in the evening.
First to discover the incoming liner with her pitiful cargo was one of the
tugboats. From out of the mist there loomed far out at sea the incoming
steamer.
RESCUE BOAT SIGHTED
“Liner ahead!” cried the lookout on the tug to the captain.
“She must be the Carpathia,” said the captain, and then he turned the nose
of his boat toward the spot on t he horizon.
Then the huge black hull and one smokestack could be distinguished.
“It’s the Carpathia,” said the captain. “I can tell her by the stack.”
The announcement sent a thrill through those who heard it. Here, at the
gate of New York, was a ship whose record for bravery and heroic work
would be a famuliar{sic} name in history.
{illust. caption = Copyright by G. V. Buck. MRS. LUCIEN P. SMITH
Formerly Miss Eloise Hughes, daughter of Representative and Mrs. James A.
Hughes, of West Virginia. Mrs. Smith and her husband were passengers on
the Titanic. Mrs. Smith was saved, but her husband went to a watery grave.
Mr. and Mrs. Smith were married only a few months ago.}
{illust. caption = MAJOR ARCHIBALD BUTT
Military Aide to President Taft. Of Major Butt, who was one of the victims
of the Titanic, one of the survivors said: “Major Butt was the real leader
in all of that rescue work. He made the men stand back and helped the
women and children into the boats. He was surely one of God’s noblemen.”}
CHAPTER XII. THE TRAGIC HOME-COMING
THE CARPATHIA REACHES NEW YORK—AN INTENSE AND DRAMATIC MOMENT—HYSTERICAL
REUNIONS AND CRUSHING DISAPPOINTMENTS AT THE DOCK—CARING FOR THE
SUFFERERS—FINAL REALIZATION THAT ALL HOPE FOR OTHERS IS FUTILE—LIST
OF SURVIVORS—ROLL OF THE DEAD
IT was a solemn moment when the Carpathia heaved in sight. There she
rested on the water, a blur of black—huge, mysterious, awe-inspiring—and
yet withal a thing to send thrills of pity and then of admiration through
the beholder.
It was a few minutes after seven o’clock when she arrived at the entrance
to Ambrose Channel. She was coming fast steaming at better than fifteen
knots an hour, and she was sighted long before she was expected. Except
for the usual side and masthead lights she was almost dark, only the upper
cabins showing a glimmer here and there.
Then began a period of waiting, the suspense of which proved almost too
much for the hundreds gathered there to greet friends and relatives or to
learn with certainty at last that those for whom they watched would never
come ashore.
There was almost complete silence on the pier. Doctors and nurses, members
of the Women’s Relief Committee, city and government officials, as well as
officials of the line, moved nervously about.
Seated where they had been assigned beneath the big customs letters
corresponding to the initials of the names of the survivors they came to
meet, sat the mass of 2000 on the pier.
Women wept, but they wept quietly, not hysterically, and the sound of the
sobs made many times less noise than the hum and bustle which is usual on
the pier among those awaiting an incoming liner.
Slowly and majestically the ship slid through the water, still bearing the
details of that secret of what happened and who perished when the Titanic
met her fate.
Convoying the Carpathia was a fleet of tugs bearing men and women anxious
to learn the latest news. The Cunarder had been as silent for days as
though it, too, were a ship of the dead. A list of survivors had been
given out from its wireless station and that was all. Even the approximate
time of its arrival had been kept a secret.
NEARING PORT
There was no response to the hail from one tug, and as others closed in,
the steamship quickened her speed a little and left them behind as she
swung up the channel.
There was an exploding of flashlights from some of the tugs, answered
seemingly by sharp stabs of lightning in the northwest that served to
accentuate the silence and absence of light aboard the rescue ship. Five
or six persons, apparently members of the crew or the ship’s officers,
were seen along the rail; but otherwise the boat appeared to be deserted.
Off quarantine the Carpathia slowed down and, hailing the immigration
inspection boat, asked if the health officer wished to board. She was told
that he did, and came to a stop while Dr. O’Connell and two assistants
climbed on board. Again the newspaper men asked for some word of the
catastrophe to the Titanic, but there was no answer, and the Carpathia
continued toward her pier.
As she passed the revenue cutter Mohawk and the derelict destroyer Seneca
anchored off Tompkinsville the wireless on the Government vessels was seen
to flash, but there was no answering spark from the Carpathia. Entering
the North River she laid her course close to the New Jersey side in order
to have room to swing into her pier.
By this time the rails were lined with men and women. They were very
silent. There were a few requests for news from those on board and a few
answers to questions shouted from the tugs.
The liner began to slacken her speed, and the tugboat soon was alongside.
Up above the inky blackness of the hull figures could be made out, leaning
over the port railing, as though peering eagerly at the little craft which
was bearing down on the Carpathia.
Some of them, perhaps, had passed through that inferno of the deep sea
which sprang up to destroy the mightiest steamship afloat.
“Carpathia, ahoy!” was shouted through a megaphone.
There was an interval of a few seconds, and then, “Aye, aye,” came the
reply.
“Is there any assistance that can be rendered?” was the next question.
“Thank you, no,” was the answer in a tone that carried emotion with it.
Meantime the tugboat was getting nearer and nearer to the Carpathia, and
soon the faces of those leaning over the railing could be distinguished.
TALK WITH SURVIVORS
More faces appeared, and still more.
A woman who called to a man on the tugboat was asked? “Are you one the
Titanic survivors?”
“Yes,” said the voice, hesitatingly.
“Do you need help?”
“No,” after a pause.
“If there is anything you want done it will be attended to.”
“Thank you. I have been informed that my relatives will meet me at the
pier.”
“Is it true that some of the life-boats sank with the Titanic?”
“Yes. There was some trouble in manning them. They were not far enough
away from her.”
All of this questioning and receiving replies was carried on with the
greatest difficulty. The pounding of the liner’s engines, the washing of
the sea, the tugboat’s engines, made it hard to understand the woman’s
replies.
ALL CARED FOR ON BOARD
“Were the women properly cared for after the crash?” she was asked.
“Oh, yes,” came the shrill reply. “The men were brave—very brave.”
Here her voice broke and she turned and left the railing, to reappear a
few moments later and cry:
“Please report me as saved.”
“What name?” was asked. She shouted a name that could not be understood,
and, apparently believing that it had been, turned away again and
disappeared.
“Nearly all of us are very ill,” cried another woman. Here several other
tugboats appeared, and those standing at the railing were besieged with
questions.
“Did the crash come without warning?” a voice on one of the smaller boats
megaphoned.
“Yes,” a woman answered. “Most of us had retired. We saved a few of our
belongings.”
“How long did it take the boat to sink?” asked the voice.
TITANIC CREW HEROES
“Not long,” came the reply? “The crew and the men were very brave. Oh, it
is dreadful—dreadful to think of!”
“Is Mr. John Jacob Astor on board?”
“No.”
“Did he remain on the Titanic after the collision?”
“I do not know.”
Questions of this kind were showered at the few survivors who stood at the
railing, but they seemed too confused to answer them intelligibly, and
after replying evasively to some they would disappear.
RUSHES ON TO DOCK
“Are you going to anchor for the night?” Captain Rostron was asked by
megaphone as his boat approached Ambrose Light. It was then raining
heavily.
“No,” came the reply. “I am going into port. There are sick people on
board.”
“We tried to learn when she would dock,” said Dr. Walter Kennedy, head of
the big ambulance corps on the mist-shrouded pier, “and we were told it
would not be before midnight and that most probably it would not be before
dawn to-morrow. The childish deception that has been practiced for days by
the people who are responsible for the Titanic has been carried up to the
very moment of the landing of the survivors.”
She proceeded past the Cunard pier, where 2000 persons were waiting her,
and steamed to a spot opposite the White Star piers at Twenty-first
Street.
The ports in the big inclosed pier of the Cunard Line were opened, and
through them the waiting hundreds, almost frantic with anxiety over what
the Carpathia might reveal, watched her as with nerve-destroying leisure
she swung about in the river, dropping over the life-boats of the Titanic
that they might be taken to the piers of the White Star Line.
THE TITANIC LIFE-BOATS
It was dark in the river, but the lowering away of the life-boats could be
seen from the Carpathia’s pier, and a deep sigh arose from the multitude
there as they caught this first glance of anything associated with the
Titanic.
Then the Carpathia started for her own pier. As she approached it the
ports on the north side of pier 54 were closed that the Carpathia might
land there, but through the two left open to accommodate the forward and
after gangplanks of the big liner the watchers could see her looming
larger and larger in the darkness till finally she was directly alongside
the pier.
As the boats were towed away the picture taking and shouting of questions
began again. John Badenoch, a buyer for Macy & Co., called down to a
representative of the firm that neither Mr. nor Mrs. Isidor Straus were
among the rescued on board the Carpathia. An officer of the Carpathia
called down that 710 of the Titanic’s passengers were on board, but
refused to reply to other questions.
The heavy hawsers were made fast without the customary shouting of ship’s
officers and pier hands. From the crowd on the pier came a long,
shuddering murmur. In it were blended sighs and hundreds of whispers. The
burden of it all was: “Here they come.”
ANXIOUS MEN AND WOMEN
About each gangplank a portable fence had been put in place, marking off
some fifty feet of the pier, within which stood one hundred or more
customs officials. Next to the fence, crowded close against it, were
anxious men and women, their gaze strained for a glance of the first from
the ship, their mouths opened to draw their breaths in spasmodic,
quivering gasps, their very bodies shaking with suppressed excitement,
excitement which only the suspense itself was keeping in subjection.
These were the husbands and wives, children, parents, sweethearts and
friends of those who had sailed upon the Titanic on its maiden voyage.
They pressed to the head of the pier, marking the boats of the wrecked
ship as they dangled at the side of the Carpathia and were revealed in the
sudden flashes of the photographers upon the tugs. They spoke in whispers,
each group intent upon its own sad business. Newspaper writers, with pier
passes showing in their hat bands, were everywhere.
A sailor hurried outside the fence and disappeared, apparently on a
mission for his company. There was a deep-drawn sigh as he walked away,
shaking his head toward those who peered eagerly at him. Then came a man
and woman of the Carpathia’s own passengers, as their orderly dress showed
them to be.
Again a sigh like a sob swept over the crowd, and again they turned back
to the canopied gangplank.
THE FIRST SURVIVORS
Several minutes passed and then out of the first cabin gangway; tunneled
by a somber awning, streamed the first survivors. A young woman, hatless,
her light brown hair disordered and the leaden weight of crushing sorrow
heavy upon eyes and sensitive mouth, was in the van. She stopped,
perplexed, almost ready to drop with terror and exhaustion, and was caught
by a customs official.
“A survivor?” he questioned rapidly, and a nod of the head answering him,
he demanded:
“Your name.”
The answer given, he started to lead her toward that section of the pier
where her friends would be waiting.
When she stepped from the gangplank there was quiet on the pier. The
answers of the woman could almost be heard by those fifty feet away, but
as she staggered, rather than walked, toward the waiting throng outside
the fence, a low wailing sound arose from the crowd.
“Dorothy, Dorothy!” cried a man from the number. He broke through the
double line of customs inspectors as though it was composed of wooden toys
and caught the woman to his breast. She opened her lips inarticulately,
weakly raised her arms and would have pitched forward upon her face had
she not been supported. Her fair head fell weakly to one side as the man
picked her up in his arms, and, with tears streaming down his face,
stalked down the long avenue of the pier and down the long stairway to a
waiting taxicab.
The wailing of the crowd—its cadences, wild and weird—grew
steadily louder and louder till they culminated in a mighty shriek, which
swept the whole big pier as though at the direction of some master hand.
RUMORS AFLOAT
The arrival of the Carpathia was the signal for the most sensational
rumors to circulate through the crowd on the pier.
First, Mrs. John Jacob Astor was reported to have died at 8.06 o’clock,
when the Carpathia was on her way up the harbor.
Captain Smith and the first engineer were reported to have shot themselves
when they found that the Titanic was doomed to sink. Afterward it was
learned that Captain Smith and the engineer went down with their ship in
perfect courage and coolness.
Major Archibald Butt, President Taft’s military aide, was said to have
entered into an agreement with George D. Widener, Colonel John Jacob Astor
and Isidor Straus to kill them first and then shoot himself before the
boat sank. It was said that this agreement had been carried out. Later it
was shown that, like many other men on the ship, they had gone down
without the exhibition of a sign of fear.
MRS. CORNELL SAFE
Magistrate Cornell’s wife and her two sisters were among the first to
leave the ship. They were met at the first cabin pier entrance by
Magistrate Cornell and a party of friends. None of the three women had
hats. One of those who met them was Magistrate Cornell’s son. One of Mrs.
Cornell’s sisters was overheard to remark that “it would be a dreadful
thing when the ship began really to unload.”
The three women appeared to be in a very nervous state. Their hair was
more or less dishevelled. They were apparently fully dressed save for
their hats. Clothing had been supplied them in their need and everything
had been done to make them comfortable. One of the party said that the
collision occurred at 9.45.
Following closely the Cornell party was H. J. Allison of Montreal, who
came to meet his family. One of the party, who was weeping bitterly as he
left the pier, explained that the only one of the family that was rescued
was the young brother.
MRS. ASTOR APPEARED
In a few minutes young Mrs. Astor with her maid appeared. She came down
the gangplank unassisted. She was wearing a white sweater. Vincent Astor
and William Dobbyn, Colonel Astor’s secretary, greeted her and hurried her
to a waiting limousine which contained clothing and other necessaries of
which it was thought she might be in need. The young woman was white-faced
and silent. Nobody cared to intrude upon her thoughts. Her stepson said
little to her. He did not feel like questioning her at such a time, he
said.
LAST SEEN OF COLONEL ASTOR
Walter M. Clark, a nephew of the senator, said that he had seen Colonel
Astor put his wife in a boat, after assuring her that he would soon follow
her in another. Mr. Clark and others said that Colonel and Mrs. Astor were
in their suite when the crash came, and that they appeared quietly on deck
a few minutes afterward.
Here and there among the passengers of the Carpathia and from the
survivors of the Titanic the story was gleaned of the rescue. Nothing in
life will ever approach the joy felt by the hundreds who were waiting in
little boats on the spot where the Titanic foundered when the lights of
the Carpathia were first distinguished. That was at 4 o’clock on Monday
morning.
DR. FRAUENTHAL WELCOMED
Efforts were made to learn from Dr. Henry Franenthal{sic} something about
the details of how he was rescued. Just then, or as he was leaving the
pier, beaming with evident delight, he was surrounded by a big crowd of
his friends.
“There’s Harry! There he is!” they yelled and made a rush for him.
All the doctor’s face that wasn’t covered with red beard was aglow with
smiles as his friends hugged him and slapped him on the back. They rushed
him off bodily through the crowd and he too was whirled home.
A SAD STORY
How others followed—how heartrending stories of partings and of
thrilling rescues were poured out in an amazing stream—this has all
been told over and over again in the news that for days amazed, saddened
and angered the entire world. It is the story of a disaster that nations,
it is hoped, will make impossible in the years to come.
In the stream of survivors were a peer of the realm, Sir Cosmo Duff
Gordon, and his secretary, side by side with plain Jack Jones, of
Birmingham, able seaman, millionaires and paupers, women with bags of
jewels and others with nightgowns their only property.
MORE THAN SEVENTY WIDOWS
More than seventy widows were in the weeping company. The only large
family that was saved in its entirety was that of the Carters, of
Philadelphia. Contrasting with this remarkable salvage of wealthy
Pennsylvanians was the sleeping eleven-months-old baby of the Allisons,
whose father, mother and sister went down to death after it and its nurse
had been placed in a life-boat.
Millionaire and pauper, titled grandee and weeping immigrant, Ismay, the
head of the White Star Company, and Jack Jones from the stoke hole were
surrounded instantly. Some would gladly have escaped observation. Every
man among the survivors acted as though it were first necessary to explain
how he came to be in a life-boat. Some of the stories smacked of
Munchausen. Others were as plain and unvarnished as a pike staff. Those
that were most sincere and trustworthy had to be fairly pulled from those
who gave their sad testimony.
Far into the night the recitals were made. They were told in the rooms of
hotels, in the wards of hospitals and upon trains that sped toward
saddened homes. It was a symposium of horror and heroism, the like of
which has not been known in the civilized world since man established his
dominion over the sea.
STEERAGE PASSENGERS
The two hundred and more steerage passengers did not leave the ship until
11 o’clock. They were in a sad condition. The women were without wraps and
the few men there were wore very little clothing. A poor Syrian woman who
said she was Mrs. Habush, bound for Youngstown, Ohio, carried in her arms
a six-year-old baby girl. This woman had lost her husband and three
brothers. “I lost four of my men folks,” she cried.
TWO LITTLE BOYS
Among the survivors who elicited a large measure of sympathy were two
little French boys who were dropped, almost naked, from the deck of the
sinking Titanic into a life-boat. From what place in France did they come
and to what place in the New World were they bound? There was not one iota
of information to be had as to the identity of the waifs of the deep, the
orphans of the Titanic.
The two baby boys, two and four years old, respectively, were in charge of
Miss Margaret Hays, who is a fluent speaker of French, and she had tried
vainly to get from the lisping lips of the two little ones some
information that would lead to the finding of their relatives.
Miss Hays, also a survivor of the Titanic, took charge of the almost naked
waifs on the Carpathia. She became warmly attached to the two boys, who
unconcernedly played about, not understanding the great tragedy that had
come into their lives.
The two little curly-heads did not understand it all. Had not their pretty
nineteen-year-old foster mother provided them with pretty suits and little
white shoes and playthings a-plenty? Then, too, Miss Hays had a Pom dog
that she brought with her from Paris and which she carried in her arms
when she left the Titanic and held to her bosom through the long night in
the life-boat, and to which the children became warmly attached. All three
became aliens on an alien shore.
Miss Hays, unable to learn the names of the little fellows, had dubbed the
older Louis and the younger “Lump.” “Lump” was all that his name implies,
for he weighed almost as much as his brother. They were dark-eyed and
brown curly-haired children, who knew how to smile as only French children
can.
On the fateful night of the Titanic disaster and just as the last boats
were pulling away with their human freight, a man rushed to the rail
holding the babes under his arms. He cried to the passengers in one of the
boats and held the children aloft. Three or four sailors and passengers
held up their arms. The father dropped the older boy. He was safely
caught. Then he dropped the little fellow and saw him folded in the arms
of a sailor. Then the boat pulled away.
The last seen of the father, whose last living act was to save his babes,
he was waving his hand in a final parting. Then the Titanic plunged to the
ocean’s bed.
BABY TRAVERS
Still more pitiable in one way was the lot of the baby survivor,
eleven-months-old Travers Allison, the only member of a family of four to
survive the wreck. His father, H. J. Allison, and mother and Lorraine, a
child of three, were victims of the catastrophe. Baby Travers, in the
excitement following the crash, was separated from the rest of the family
just before the Titanic went down. With the party were two nurses and a
maid.
Major Arthur Peuchen, of Montreal, one of the survivors, standing near the
little fellow, who, swathed in blankets, lay blinking at his nurse,
described the death of Mrs. Allison. She had gone to the deck without her
husband, and, frantically seeking him, was directed by an officer to the
other side of the ship.
She failed to find Mr. Allison and was quickly hustled into one of the
collapsible life-boats, and when last seen by Major Peuchen she was
toppling out of the half-swamped boat. J. W. Allison, a cousin of H. J.
Allison, was at the pier to care for Baby Travers and his nurse. They were
taken to the Manhattan Hotel.
Describing the details of the perishing of the Allison family, the rescued
nurse said they were all in bed when the Titanic hit the berg.
“We did not get up immediately,” said she, “for we had
{illust. caption = WHITE STAR STEAMER TITANIC GYMNASIUM}
{illust. caption = Copyright, 1912, Underwood & Underwood. CAPTAIN A.
H. ROSTROM
Commander of the Carpathia, which rescued the survivors of the Titanic
from the life-boats in the open sea and brought them to New York. After
the Senatorial Investigating Committee had examined Captain Rostrom, at
which time this specially posed photograph was taken, Senator William
Alden Smith, chairman of the committee, said of Captain Rostrom: “His
conduct of the rescue shows that he is not only an efficient seaman, but
one of nature’s noblemen.”}
not thought of danger. Later we were told to get up, and I hurriedly
dressed the baby. We hastened up on deck, and confusion was all about.
With other women and children we clambered to the life-boats, just as a
matter of precaution, believing that there was no immediate danger. In
about an hour there was an explosion and the ship appeared to fall apart.
We were in the life-boat about six hours before we were picked up.”
THE RYERSON FAMILY
Probably few deaths have caused more tears than Arthur Ryerson’s, in view
of the sad circumstances which called him home from a lengthy tour in
Europe. Mr. Ryerson’s eldest son, Arthur Larned Ryerson, a Yale student,
was killed in an automobile accident Easter Monday, 1912.
A cablegram announcing the death plunged the Ryerson family into mourning
and they boarded the first steamship for this country. If{sic} happened to
be the Titanic, and the death note came near being the cause of the
blotting out of the entire family.
The children who accompanied them were Miss Susan P. Ryerson, Miss Emily
B. Ryerson and John Ryerson. The latter is 12 years old.
They did not know their son intended to spend the Easter holidays at their
home at Haverford, Pa. until they were informed of his death. John Lewis
Hoffman, also of Haverford and a student of Yale, was killed with young
Ryerson.
The two were hurrying to Philadelphia to escort a fellow-student to his
train. In turning out of the road to pass a cart the motor car crashed
into a pole in front of the entrance to the estate of Mrs. B. Frank Clyde.
The college men were picked up unconscious and died in the Bryn Mawr
Hospital.
G. Heide Norris of Philadelphia, who went to New York to meet the
surviving members of the Ryerson family, told of a happy incident at the
last moment as the Carpathia swung close to the pier. There had been no
positive information that young “Jack” Ryerson was among those saved—indeed,
it was feared that he had gone down with the Titanic, like his father,
Arthur Ryerson.
Mr. Norris spoke of the feeling of relief that came over him as, watching
from the pier, he saw “Jack” Ryerson come from a cabin and stand at the
railing. The name of the boy was missing from some of the lists and for
two days it was reported that he had perished.
CAPTAIN ROSTRON’S REPORT
Less than 24 hours after the Cunard Line steamship Carpathia came in as a
rescue ship with survivors of the Titanic disaster, she sailed again for
the Mediterranean cruise which she originally started upon last week. Just
before the liner sailed, H. S. Bride, the second Marconi wireless operator
of the Titanic, who had both of his legs crushed on a life-boat, was
carried off on the shoulders of the ship’s officers to St. Vincent’s
Hospital.
Captain A. H. Rostron, of the Carpathia, addressed an official report,
giving his account of the Carpathia’s rescue work, to the general manager
of the Cunard Line, Liverpool. The report read: “I beg to report that at
12.35 A. M. Monday 18th inst. I was informed of urgent message from
Titanic with her position. I immediately ordered ship turned around and
put her in course for that position, we being then 58 miles S. 52—E.
‘T’ from her; had heads of all departments called and issued what I
considered the necessary orders, to be in preparation for any emergency.
“At 2.40 A. M. saw flare half a point on port bow. Taking this for granted
to be ship, shortly after we sighted our first iceberg. I had previously
had lookouts doubled, knowing that Titanic had struck ice, and so took
every care and precaution. We soon found ourselves in a field of bergs,
and had to alter course several times to clear bergs; weather fine, and
clear, light air on sea, beautifully clear night, though dark.
“We stopped at 4 A. M., thus doing distance in three hours and a half,
picking up the first boat at 4.10 A. M.; boat in charge of officer, and he
reported that Titanic had foundered. At 8.30 A. M. last boat picked up.
All survivors aboard and all boats accounted for, viz., fifteen
life-boats, one boat abandoned, two Berthon boats alongside (saw one
floating upwards among wreckage), and according to second officer (senior
officer saved) one Berthon boat had not been launched, it having got
jammed, making sixteen life-boats and four Berthon boats accounted for. By
the time we had cleared first boat it was breaking day, and I could see
all within area of four miles. We also saw that we were surrounded by
icebergs, large and small, huge field of drift ice with large and small
bergs in it, the ice field trending from N. W. round W. and S. to S. E.,
as far as we could see either way.
“At 8 A. M. the Leyland S. S. California came up. I gave him the principal
news and asked him to search and I would proceed to New York; at 8.50
proceeded full speed while researching over vicinity of disaster, and
while we were getting people aboard I gave orders to get spare hands along
and swing in all our boats, disconnect the fall and hoist up as many
Titanic boats as possible in our davits; also get some on forecastle heads
by derricks. We got thirteen lifeboats, six on forward deck and seven in
davits. After getting all survivors aboard and while searching I got a
clergyman to offer a short prayer of thankfulness for those saved, and
also a short burial service for their loss, in saloon.
“Before deciding definitely where to make for, I conferred with Mr. Ismay,
and as he told me to do what I thought best, I informed him, I considered
New York best. I knew we should require clean blankets, provisions and
clean linen, even if we went to the Azores, as most of the
passsengers{sic} saved were women and children, and they hysterical, not
knowing what medical attention they might require. I thought it best to go
to New York. I also thought it would be better for Mr. Ismay to go to New
York or England as soon as possible, and knowing I should be out of
wireless communication very soon if I proceeded to Azores, it left
Halifax, Boston and New York, so I chose the latter.
“Again, the passengers were all hysterical about ice, and I pointed out to
Mr. Ismay the possibilities of seeing ice if I went to Halifax. Then I
knew it would be best to keep in touch with land stations as best I could.
We have experienced great difficulty in transmitting news, also names of
survivors. Our wireless is very poor, and again we have had so many
interruptions from other ships and also messages from shore (principally
press, which we ignored). I gave instructions to send first all official
messages, then names of passengers, then survivors’ private messages. We
had haze early Tuesday morning for several hours; again more or less all
Wednesday from 5.30 A. M. to 5 P. M.; strong south-southwesterly winds and
clear weather Thursday, with moderate rough sea.
“I am pleased to say that all survivors have been very plucky. The
majority of women, first, second and third class, lost their husbands,
and, considering all, have been wonderfully well. Tuesday our doctor
reported all survivors physically well. Our first class passengers have
behaved splendidly, given up their cabins voluntarily and supplied the
ladies with clothes, etc. We all turned out of our cabins and gave them to
survivors—saloon, smoking room, library, etc., also being used for
sleeping accommodation. Our crew, also turned out to let the crew of the
Titanic take their quarters. I am pleased to state that owing to
preparations made for the comfort of survivors, none were the worse for
exposure, etc. I beg to specially mention how willing and cheerful the
whole of the ship’s company behaved, receiving the highest praise from
everybody. And I can assure you I am very proud to have such a company
under my command.
The following list of the survivors and dead contains the latest revisions
and corrections of the White Star Line officials, and was furnished by
them exclusively for this book.
LIST OF SURVIVORS
LIST OF SURVIVORS—SECOND CABIN
A list of surviving third cabin passengers and crew is omitted owing to
the impossibility of obtaining the correct names of many.
ROLL OF THE DEAD
The total death list was 1635. Third cabin passengers and crew are not
included in the list here given owing to the impossibility of obtaining
the exact names of many.
CHAPTER XIII. THE STORY OF CHARLES F. HURD
HOW THE TITANIC SANK—WATER STREWN WITH DEAD BODIES—VICTIMS MET
DEATH WITH HYMN ON THEIR LIPS
THE Story of how the Titanic sank is told by Charles F. Hurd, who was a
passenger on the Carpathia.
He praised highly the courage of the crew, hundreds of whom gave their
lives with a heroism which equaled but could not exceed that of John Jacob
Astor, Henry B. Harris, Jacques Futrelle and others in the long list of
first-cabin passengers. The account continues:
“The crash against the iceberg, which had been sighted at only a quarter
mile distance, came almost simultaneously with the click of the levers
operated from the bridge, which stopped the engines and closed the
water-tight doors. Captain Smith was on the bridge a moment later,
summoning all on board to put on life preservers and ordering the
life-boats lowered.
“The first boats had more male passengers, as the men were the first to
reach the deck. When the rush of frightened men and women and crying
children to the decks began, the ‘women first’ rule was rigidly enforced.
“Officers drew revolvers, but in most cases there was no use for them.
Revolver shots heard shortly before the Titanic went down caused many
rumors, one that Captain Smith had shot himself, another that First
Officer Murdock had ended his life, but members of the crew discredit
these rumors.
“Captain Smith was last seen on the bridge just before the ship sank,
leaping only after the decks had been washed away.
“What became of the men with the life-preservers was a question asked by
many since the disaster. Many of these with life-preservers were seen to
go down despite the preservers, and dead bodies floated on the surface as
the boats moved away.
“Facts which I have established by inquiries on the Carpathia, as
positively as they could be established in view of the silence of the few
surviving officers, are:
“That the Titanic’s officers knew, several hours before the crash, of the
possible nearness of the icebergs.
“That the Titanic’s speed, nearly 23 knots an hour, was not slackened.
“That the number of life-boats on the Titanic was insufficient to
accommodate more than one-third of the passengers, to say nothing of the
crew. Most members of the crew say there were sixteen life-boats and two
collapsibles; none say there were more than twenty boats in all. The 700
escaped filled most of the sixteen life-boats and the one collapsible
which got away, to the limit of their capacity.
“Had the ship struck the iceberg head on at whatever
{illust. caption = MRS. GEORGE D. WIDENER
Mrs. Widener was saved,….}
{illust. caption = George D. WIDENER
Who with his son….}
{illust. caption = Copyright by Underwood & Underwood, N. Y. WILLIAM
T. STEAD
The great English writer, who was a passenger on board the ill-fated White
Star Line Steamer Titanic.}
speed and with whatever resulting shock, the bulkhead system of
water-tight compartments would probably have saved the vessel. As one man
expressed it, it was the impossible that happened when, with a shock
unbelievably mild, the ship’s side was torn for a length which made the
bulkhead system ineffective.”
After telling of the shock and the lowering of the boats the account
continues:
“Some of the boats, crowded too full to give rowers a chance, drifted for
a time. Few had provisions or water, there was lack of covering from the
icy air, and the only lights were the still undimmed arcs and
incandescents of the settling ship, save for one of the first boats. There
a steward, who explained to the passengers that he had been shipwrecked
twice before, appeared carrying three oranges and a green light.
“That green light, many of the survivors say, was to the shipwrecked
hundreds as the pillar of fire by night. Long after the ship had
disappeared, and while confusing false lights danced about the boats, the
green lantern kept them together on the course which led them to the
Carpathia.
“As the end of the Titanic became manifestly but a matter of moments, the
oarsmen pulled their boats away, and the chilling waters began to echo
splash after splash as passengers and sailors in life-preservers leaped
over and started swimming away to escape the expected suction.
“Only the hardiest of constitutions could endure for more than a few
moments such a numbing bath. The first vigorous strokes gave way to
heart-breaking cries of ‘Help! Help!’ and stiffened forms were seen
floating on the water all around us.
“Led by the green light, under the light of the stars, the boats drew
away, and the bow, then the quarter, then the stacks and at last the stern
of the marvel-ship of a few days before, passed beneath the waters. The
great force of the ship’s sinking was unaided by any violence of the
elements, and the suction, not so great as had been feared, rocked but
mildly the group of boats now a quarter of a mile distant from it.
“Early dawn brought no ship, but not long after 5 A. M. the Carpathia, far
out of her path and making eighteen knots, instead of her wonted fifteen,
showed her single red and black smokestack upon the horizon. In the joy of
that moment, the heaviest griefs were forgotten.
“Soon afterward Captain Rostron and Chief Steward Hughes were welcoming
the chilled and bedraggled arrivals over the Carpathia’s side.
“Terrible as were the San Francisco, Slocum and Iroquois disasters, they
shrink to local events in comparison with this world-catastrophe.
“True, there were others of greater qualifications and longer experience
than I nearer the tragedy—but they, by every token of likelihood,
have become a part of the tragedy. The honored—must I say the
lamented—Stead, the adroit Jacques Futrelle, what might they not
tell were their hands able to hold pencil?
“The silence of the Carpathia’s engines, the piercing cold, the clamor of
many voices in the companionways, caused me to dress hurriedly and awaken
my wife, at 5.40 A. M. Monday. Our stewardess, meeting me outside, pointed
to a wailing host in the rear dining room and said. ‘From the Titanic.
She’s at the bottom of the ocean.’
“At the ship’s side, a moment later, I saw the last of the line of boats
discharge their loads, and saw women, some with cheap shawls about their
heads, some with the costliest of fur cloaks, ascending the ship’s side.
And such joy as the first sight of our ship may have given them had
disappeared from their faces, and there were tears and signs of faltering
as the women were helped up the ladders or hoisted aboard in swings. For
lack of room to put them, several of the Titanic’s boats, after unloading,
were set adrift.
“At our north was a broad ice field, the length of hundreds of Carpathias.
Around us on other sides were sharp and glistening peaks. One black berg,
seen about 10 A. M., was said to be that which sunk the Titanic.”
CHAPTER XIV. THRILLING ACCOUNT BY L. BEASLEY
COLLISION ONLY A SLIGHT JAR—PASSENGERS COULD NOT BELIEVE THE VESSEL
DOOMED—NARROW ESCAPE OF LIFE-BOATS—PICKED UP BY THE CARPATHIA
AMONG the most connected and interesting stories related by the survivors
was the one told by L. Beasley, of Cambridge, England. He said:
“The voyage from Queenstown had been quite uneventful; very fine weather
was experienced, and the sea was quite calm. The wind had been westerly to
southwesterly the whole way, but very cold, particularly the last day; in
fact after dinner on Saturday evening it was almost too cold to be out on
deck at all.
ONLY A SLIGHT JAR
“I had been in my berth for about ten minutes, when, at about 11.15 P. M.,
I felt a slight jar, and then soon after a second one, but not
sufficiently violent to cause any anxiety to anyone, however nervous they
may have been. However, the engines stopped immediately afterward, and my
first, thought was, ‘She has lost a propeller.’
“I went up on the top (boat) deck in a dressing gown, and found only a few
persons there, who had come up similarly to inquire why we had stopped,
but there was no sort of anxiety in the minds of anyone.
“We saw through the smoking room window a game of cards going on, and went
in to inquire if they knew anything; it seems they felt more of the jar,
and, looking through the window, had seen a huge iceberg go by close to
the side of the boat. They thought we had just grazed it with a glancing
blow, and that the engines had been stopped to see if any damage had been
done. No one, of course, had any conception that the vessel had been
pierced below by part of the submerged iceberg.
“The game went on without any thought of disaster and I retired to my
cabin, to read until we went on again. I never saw any of the players or
the onlookers again.
SOME WERE AWAKENED
“A little later, hearing people going upstairs, I went out again and found
everyone wanting to know why the engines had stopped. No doubt many were
awakened from sleep by the sudden stopping of a vibration to which they
had become accustomed during the four days we had been on board.
Naturally, with such powerful engines as the Titanic carried, the
vibration was very noticeable all the time, and the sudden stopping had
something the same effect as the stopping of a loud-ticking grandfather’s
clock in a room.
“On going on deck again I saw that there was an undoubted list downward
from stern to bows, but, knowing nothing of what had happened, concluded
some of the front compartments had filled and weighed her down. I went
down again to put on warmer clothing, and as I dressed heard an order
shouted, ‘All passengers on deck with life-belts on.’
“We all walked slowly up, with the belts tied on over our clothing, but
even then presumed this was only a wise precaution the captain was taking,
and that we should return in a short time and retire to bed.
“There was a total absence of any panic or any expressions of alarm, and I
suppose this can be accounted for by the exceedingly calm night and the
absence of any signs of the accident.
“The ship was absolutely still, and except for a gentle tilt downward,
which I don’t think one person in ten would have noticed at that time, no
signs of the approaching disaster were visible. She lay just as if she
were waiting the order to go on again when some trifling matter had been
adjusted.
“But in a few moments we saw the covers lifted from the boats and the
crews allotted to them standing by and coiling up the ropes which were to
lower them by the pulley blocks into the water.
“We then began to realize it was more serious than had been supposed, and
my first thought was to go down and get some more clothing and some money,
but, seeing people pouring up the stairs, decided it was better to cause
no confusion to people coming up. Presently we heard the order:
“‘All men stand back away from the boats, and all ladies retire to next
deck below’—the smoking-room deck or B deck.
MEN STOOD BACK
“The men all stood away and remained in absolute silence leaning against
the end railings of the deck or pacing slowly up and down.
“The boats were swung out and lowered from A deck. When they were to the
level of B deck, where all the women were collected, they got in quietly,
with the exception of some who refused to leave their husbands.
“In some cases they were torn from them and pushed into the boats, but in
many instances they were allowed to remain because there was no one to
insist they should go.
“Looking over the side, one saw boats from aft already in the water,
slipping quietly away into the darkness, and presently the boats near me
were lowered, and with much creaking as the new ropes slipped through the
pulley blocks down the ninety feet which separated them from the water. An
officer in uniform came up as one boat went down and shouted, “When you
are afloat row round to the companion ladder and stand by with the other
boats for orders.’
“‘Aye, aye, sir,’ came up the reply; but I don’t think any boat was able
to obey the order. When they were afloat and had the oars at work, the
condition of the rapidly settling boat was so much more a sight for alarm
for those in the boats than those on board, that in common prudence the
sailors saw they could do nothing but row from the sinking ship to save at
any rate some lives. They no doubt anticipated that suction from such an
enormous vessel would be more dangerous than usual to a crowded boat
mostly filled with women.
“All this time there was no trace of any disorder; no panic or rush to the
boats and no scenes of women sobbing hysterically, such as one generally
pictures as happening at such times everyone seemed to realize so slowly
that there was imminent danger. When it was realized that we might all be
presently in the sea with nothing but our life-belts to support us until
we were picked up by passing steamers, it was extraordinary how calm
everyone was and how completely self-controlled.
“One by one, the boats were filled with women and children, lowered and
rowed away into the night. Presently the word went round among the men,
‘the men are to be put in boats on the starboard side.’
“I was on the port side, and most of the men walked across the deck to see
if this was so I remained where I was and soon heard the call:
“‘Any more ladies?’
“Looking over the side of the ship, I saw the boat, No. 13, swinging level
with B deck, half full of ladies. Again the call was repeated, ‘Any more
ladies?’
“I saw none come on, and then one of the crew, looking up, said:
“‘Any more ladies on your deck, sir?’
“‘No,’ I replied.
“‘Then you had better jump.’
“I dropped in, and fell in the bottom, as they cried ‘lower away.’ As the
boat began to descend two ladies were pushed hurriedly through the crowd
on B deck and heaved over into the boat, and a baby of ten months passed
down after them. Down we went, the crew calling to those lowering each end
to ‘keep her level,’ until we were some ten feet from the water, and here
occurred the only anxious moment we had during the whole of our experience
from leaving the deck to reaching the Carpathia.
“Immediately below our boat was the exhaust of the condensers, a huge
stream of water pouring all the time from the ship’s side just above the
water line. It was plain we ought to be quickly away from this, not to be
swamped by it when we touched water.
NO OFFICER ABOARD
“We had no officer aboard, nor petty officer or member of the crew to take
charge. So one of the stokers shouted: ‘Someone find the pin which
releases the boat from the ropes and pull it up!’ No one knew where it
was. We felt on the floor and sides, but found nothing, and it was hard to
move among so many people—we had sixty or seventy on board.
“Down we went and presently floated, with our ropes still holding us, the
exhaust washing us away from the side of the vessel and the swell of the
sea urging us back against the side again. The result of all these forces
was an impetus which carried us parallel to the ship’s side and directly
under boat 14, which had filled rapidly with men and was coming down on us
in a way that threatened to submerge our boat.
“‘Stop lowering 14,’ our crew shouted, and the crew of No. 14, now only
twenty feet above, shouted the same. But the distance to the top was some
seventy feet and the creaking pulleys must have deadened all sound to
those above, for down she came, fifteen feet, ten feet, five feet and a
stoker and I reached up and touched her swinging above our heads. The next
drop would have brought her on our heads, but just before she dropped
another stoker sprang to the ropes, with his knife.
JUST ESCAPED ANOTHER BOAT
“‘One,’ I heard him say, ‘two,’ as his knife cut through the pulley ropes,
and the next moment the exhaust stream had carried us clear, while boat 14
dropped into the water, into the space we had the moment before occupied,
our gunwales almost touching.
“We drifted away easily, as the oars were got out, and headed directly
away from the ship. The crew seemed to me to be mostly stewards or cooks
in white jackets, two to an oar, with a stoker at the tiller. There was a
certain amount of shouting from one end of the boat to the other, and
discussion as to which way we should go, but finally it was decided to
elect the stoker, who was steering, as captain, and for all to obey his
orders. He set to work at once to get into touch with the other boats,
calling to them and getting as close as seemed wise, so that when the
search boats came in the morning to look for us, there would be more
chance for all to be rescued by keeping together.
“It was now about 1 A. M.; a beautiful starlight night, with no moon, and
so not very light. The sea was as calm as a pond, just a gentle heave as
the boat dipped up and down in the swell; an ideal night, except for the
bitter cold, for anyone who had to be out in the middle of the Atlantic
ocean in an open boat. And if ever there was a time when such a night was
needed, surely it was now, with hundreds of people, mostly women and
children, afloat hundreds of miles from land.
WATCHED THE TITANIC
“The captain-stoker told us that he had been at sea twenty-six years, and
had never yet seen such a calm night on the Atlantic. As we rowed away
from the Titanic, we looked back from time to time to watch her, and a
more striking spectacle it was not possible for anyone to see.
“In the distance it looked an enormous length, its great bulk outlined in
black against the starry sky, every port-hole and saloon blazing with
light. It was impossible to think anything could be wrong with such a
leviathan, were it not for that ominous tilt downward in the bows, where
the water was by now up to the lowest row of port-holes.
“Presently, about 2 A. M., as near as I can remember, we observed it
settling very rapidly, with the bows and the bridge completely under
water, and concluded it was now only a question of minutes before it went;
and so it proved.”
Mr. Beasley went on to tell of the spectacle of the sinking of the
Titanic, the terrible experiences of the survivors in the life-boats and
their final rescue by the Carpathia as already related.
CHAPTER XV. JACK THAYER’S OWN STORY OF THE WRECK
SEVENTEEN-YEAR-OLD SON OF PENNSYLVANIA RAILROAD OFFICIAL TELLS MOVING
STORY OF HIS RESCUE—TOLD MOTHER TO BE BRAVE—SEPARATED FROM
PARENTS—JUMPED WHEN VESSEL SANK—DRIFTED ON OVERTURNED BOAT
PICKED UP BY CARPATHIA
ONE of the calmest of the passengers was: young Jack Thayer, the
seventeen-year-old son of Mr. and Mrs. John B. Thayer. When his mother was
put into the life-boat he kissed her and told her to be brave, saying that
he and his father would be all right. He and Mr. Thayer stood on the deck
as the small boat in which Mrs. Thayer was a passenger made off from the
side of the Titanic over the smooth sea.
The boy’s own account of his experience as told to one of his rescuers is
one of the most remarkable of all the wonderful ones that have come from
the tremendous catastrophe:
“Father was in bed, and mother and myself were about to get into bed.
There was no great shock, I was on my feet at the time and I do not think
it was enough to throw anyone down. I put on an overcoat and rushed up on
A deck on the port side. I saw nothing there. I then went forward to the
bow to see if I could see any signs of ice. The only ice I saw was on the
well deck. I could not see very far ahead, having just come out of a
brightly lighted room.
“I then went down to our room and my father and mother came on deck with
me, to the starboard side of A deck. We could not see anything there.
Father thought he saw small pieces of ice floating around, but I could not
see any myself. There was no big berg. We walked around to the port side,
and the ship had then a fair list to port. We stayed there looking over
the side for about five minutes. The list seemed very slowly to be
increasing.
“We then went down to our rooms on C deck, all of us dressing quickly,
putting on all our clothes. We all put on life-preservers, and over these
we put our overcoats. Then we hurried up on deck and walked around,
looking out at different places until the women were all ordered to
collect on the port side.
SEPARATED FROM PARENTS
“Father and I said good-bye to mother at the top of the stairs on A deck.
She and the maid went right out on A deck on the port side and we went to
the starboard side. As at this time we had no idea the boat would sink we
walked around A deck and then went to B deck. Then we thought we would go
back to see if mother had gotten off safely, and went to the port side of
A deck. We met the chief steward of the main dining saloon and he told us
that mother had not yet taken a boat, and he took us to her.
“Father and mother went ahead and I followed. They went down to B deck and
a crowd got in front of me and I was not able to catch them, and lost
sight of them. As soon as I could get through the crowd I tried to find
them on B deck, but without success. That is the last time I saw my
father. This was about one half an hour before she sank. I then went to
the starboard side, thinking that father and mother must have gotten off
in a boat. All of this time I was with a fellow named Milton C. Long, of
New York, whom I had just met that evening.
“On the starboard side the boats were getting away quickly. Some boats
were already off in a distance. We thought of getting into one of the
boats, the last boat to go on the forward part of the starboard side, but
there seemed to be such a crowd around I thought it unwise to make any
attempt to get into it. He and I stood by the davits of one of the boats
that had left. I did not notice anybody that I knew except Mr. Lindley,
whom I had also just met that evening. I lost sight of him in a few
minutes. Long and I then stood by the rail just a little aft of the
captain’s bridge.
THOUGHT SHIP WOULD FLOAT
“The list to the port had been growing greater all the time. About this
time the people began jumping from the stern. I thought of jumping myself,
but was afraid of being stunned on hitting the water. Three times I made
up my mind to jump out and slide down the davit ropes and try to make the
boats that were lying off from the ship, but each time Long got hold of me
and told me to wait a while. He then sat down and I stood up waiting to
see what would happen. Even then we thought she might possibly stay
afloat.
“I got a sight on a rope between the davits and a star and noticed that
she was gradually sinking. About this time she straightened up on an even
keel and started to go down fairly fast at an angle of about 30 degrees.
As she started to sink we left the davits and went back and stood by the
rail about even with the second funnel.
“Long and myself said good-bye to each other and jumped up on the rail. He
put his legs over and held on a minute and asked me if I was coming. I
told him I would be with him in a minute. He did not jump clear, but slid
down the side of the ship. I never saw him again.
“About five seconds after he jumped I jumped out, feet first. I was clear
of the ship; went down, and as I came up I was pushed away from the ship
by some force. I came up facing the ship, and one of the funnels seemed to
be lifted off and fell towards me about 15 yards away, with a mass of
sparks and steam coming out of it. I saw the ship in a sort of a red
glare, and it seemed to me that she broke in two just in front of the
third funnel.
“This time I was sucked down, and as I came up I was pushed out again and
twisted around by a large wave, coming up in the midst of a great deal of
small wreckage. As I pushed my hand from my head it touched the cork
fender of an over-
{illust. caption = READING ROOM OF THE TITANIC}
{illust. caption = Copyright, 1912. International News Service. THE
SENATORIAL INVESTIGATION—ISMAY ON THE GRILL
J. Bruce Ismay, Managing Director of the……..}
turned life-boat. I looked up and saw some men on the top and asked them
to give me a hand. One of them, who was a stoker, helped me up. In a short
time the bottom was covered with about twenty-five or thirty men. When I
got on this I was facing the ship.
{illust. caption = SKETCHES OF THE TITANIC BY “JACK” THAYER
These sketches were outlined by John B. Thayer, Jr., on the day of the
disaster, and afterwards filled in by L. D. Skidmon, of Brooklyn.}
“The stern then seemed to rise in the air and stopped at about an angle of
60 degrees. It seemed to hold there for a time and then with a hissing
sound it shot right down out of sight with people jumping from the stern.
The stern either pivoted around towards our boat, or we were sucked
towards it, and as we only had one oar we could not keep away. There did
not seem to be very much suction and most of us managed to stay on the
bottom of our boat.
“We were then right in the midst of fairly large wreckage, with people
swimming all around us. The sea was very calm and we kept the boat pretty
steady, but every now and then a wave would wash over it.
SAID THE LORD’S PRAYER
“The assistant wireless operator was right next to me, holding on to me
and kneeling in the water. We all sang a hymn and said the Lord’s Prayer,
and then waited for dawn to come. As often as we saw the other boats in a
distance we would yell, ‘Ship ahoy!’ But they could not distinguish our
cries from any of the others, so we all gave it up, thinking it useless.
It was very cold and none of us were able to move around to keep warm, the
water washing over her almost all the time.
“Toward dawn the wind sprang up, roughening up the water and making it
difficult to keep the boat balanced. The wireless man raised our hopes a
great deal by telling us that the Carpathia would be up in about three
hours. About 3.30 or 4 o’clock some men on our boat on the bow sighted her
mast lights. I could not see them, as I was sitting down with a man
kneeling on my leg. He finally got up and I stood up. We had the second
officer, Mr. Lightoller, on board. We had an officer’s whistle and
whistled for the boats in the distance to come up and take us off.
“It took about an hour and a half for the boats to draw near. Two boats
came up. The first took half and the other took the balance, including
myself. We had great difficulty about this time in balancing the boat, as
the men would lean too far, but we were all taken aboard the already
crowded boat, and in about a half or three-quarters of an hour later we
were picked up by the Carpathia.
“I have noticed Second Officer Lightoller’s statement that ‘J. B. Thayer
was on our overturned boat,’ which would give the impression that it was
father, when he really meant it was I, as he only learned my name in a
subsequent conversation on the Carpathia, and did not know I was
‘junior’.”
CHAPTER XVI. INCIDENTS RELATED BY JAMES McGOUGH
WOMEN FORCED INTO THE LIFE-BOATS—WHY SOME MEN WERE SAVED BEFORE
WOMEN—ASKED TO MAN LIFE-BOATS
SURROUNDED by his wife and members of his family, James McGough, of
Philadelphia, a buyer for the Gimbel Brothers, whose fate had been in
doubt, recited a most thrilling and graphic picture of the disaster.
As the Carpathia docked, Mrs. McGough, a brother and several friends of
the buyer, met him, and after the touching reunion had taken place the
party proceeded to Philadelphia.
Vivid in detail, Mr. McGough’s story differs essentially from one the
imagination would paint. He declared that the boat was driving at a high
rate of speed at the time of the accident, and seemed impressed by the
calmness and apathy displayed by the survivors as they tossed on the
frozen seas in the little life-boats until the Carpathia picked them up.
The Titanic did not plunge into the water suddenly, he declared, but
settled slowly into the deep with its hundreds of passengers.
“The collision occurred at 20 minutes of 12,” said Mr. McGough. “I was
sleeping in my cabin when I felt a wrench, not severe or terrifying.
“It seemed to me to be nothing more serious than the racing of the screw,
which often occurs when a ship plunges her bow deep into a heavy swell,
raising the stern out of water. We dressed hurriedly and ran to the upper
deck. There was little noise or tumult at the time.
“The promenade decks being higher from the base of the ship and thus more
insecure, strained and creaked; so we went to the lower decks. By this
time the engines had been reversed, and I could feel the ship backing off.
Officers and stewards ran through the corridors, shouting for all to be
calm, that there was no danger. We were warned, however, to dress and put
life-preservers on us. I had on what clothing I could find and had stuffed
some money in my pocket.
PARTING OF ASTOR AND BRIDE
“As I passed the gymnasium I saw Colonel Astor and his young wife
together. She was clinging to him, piteously pleading that he go into the
life-boat with her. He refused almost gruffly and was attempting to calm
her by saying that all her fears were groundless, that the accident she
feared would prove a farce. It proved different, however.
“None, I believe, knew that the ship was about to sink. I did not realize
it just then. When I reached the upper deck and saw tons of ice piled upon
our crushed bow the full realization came to me.
“Officers stood with drawn guns ordering the women into the boats. All
feared to leave the comparative safety of a broad and firm deck for the
precarious smaller boats. Women clung to their husbands, crying that they
would never leave without them, and had to be torn away.
“On one point all the women were firm. They would not enter a Life-boat
until men were in it first. They feared to trust themselves to the seas in
them. It required courage to step into the frail crafts as they swung from
the creaking davits. Few men were willing to take the chance. An officer
rushed behind me and shouted:
“‘You’re big enough to pull an oar. Jump into this boat or we’ll never be
able to get the women off.’ I was forced to do so, though I admit that the
ship looked a great deal safer to me than any small boat.
“Our boat was the second off. Forty or more persons were crowded into it,
and with myself and members of the crew at the oars, were pulled slowly
away. Huge icebergs, larger than the Pennsylvania depot at New York,
surrounded us. As we pulled away we could see boat after boat filled and
lowered to the waves. Despite the fact that they were new and supposedly
in excellent working order, the blocks jammed in many instances, tilting
the boats, loaded with people, at varying angles before they reached the
water.
BAND CONTINUED PLAYING
“As the life-boats pulled away the officers ordered the bands to play, and
their music did much to quell panic. It was a heart-breaking sight to us
tossing in an eggshell three-fourths of a mile away, to see the great ship
go down. First she listed to the starboard, on which side the collision
had occurred, then she settled slowly but steadily, without hope of
remaining afloat.
“The Titanic was all aglow with lights as if for a function. First we saw
the lights of the lower deck snuffed out. A while later and the second
deck illumination was extinguished in a similar manner. Then the third and
upper decks were darkened, and without plunging or rocking the great ship
disappeared slowly from the surface of the sea.
“People were crowded on each deck as it lowered into the water, hoping in
vain that aid would come in time. Some of the life-boats caught in the
merciless suction were swallowed with her.
“The sea was calm—calm as the water in a tumbler. But it was
freezing cold. None had dressed heavily, and all, therefore, suffered
intensely. The women did not shriek or grow hysterical while we waited
through the awful night for help. We men stood at the oars, stood because
there was no room for us to sit, and kept the boat headed into the swell
to prevent her capsizing. Another boat was at our side, but all the others
were scattered around the water.
“Finally, shortly before 6 o’clock, we saw the lights of the Carpathia
approaching. Gradually she picked up the survivors in the other boats and
then approached us. When we were lifted to the deck the women fell
helpless. They were carried to whatever quarters offered themselves, while
the men were assigned to the smoking room.
“Of the misery and suffering which was witnessed on the rescue ship I know
nothing. With the other men survivors I was glad to remain in the smoking
room until New York was reached, trying to forget the awful experience.
“To us aboard the Carpathia came rumors of misstatements which were being
made to the public. The details of the wreck were wofully misunderstood.
“Let me emphasize that the night was not foggy or cloudy. There was just
the beginning of the new moon, but every star in the sky was shining
brightly, unmarred by clouds. The boats were lowered from both sides of
the Titanic in time to escape, but there was not enough for all.
CHAPTER XVII. WIRELESS OPERATOR PRAISES HEROIC WORK
STORY OF HAROLD BRIDE, THE SURVIVING WIRELESS OPERATOR OF THE TITANIC, WHO
WAS WASHED OVERBOARD AND RESCUED BY LIFE-BOAT—BAND PLAYED RAG-TIME
AND “AUTUMN”
ONE of the most connected and detailed accounts of the horrible disaster
was that told by Harold Bride, the wireless operator. Mr. Bride said:
“I was standing by Phillips, the chief operator, telling him to go to bed,
when the captain put his head in the cabin.
“‘We’ve struck an iceberg,’ the captain said, ‘and I’m having an
inspection made to tell what it has done for us. You better get ready to
send out a call for assistance. But don’t send it until I tell you.’
“The captain went away and in ten minutes, I should estimate the time, he
came back. We could hear a terrific confusion outside, but there was not
the least thing to indicate that there was any trouble. The wireless was
working perfectly.
“‘Send the call for assistance,’ ordered the captain, barely putting his
head in the door.
“‘What call shall I send?’ Phillips asked.
“‘The regulation international call for help. Just that.’
“Then the captain was gone Phillips began to send ‘C. Q. D.’ He flashed
away at it and we joked while he did so. All of us made light of the
disaster.
“The Carpathia answered our signal. We told her our position and said we
were sinking by the head. The operator went to tell the captain, and in
five minutes returned and told us that the captain of the Carpathia, was
putting about and heading for us
GREAT SCRAMBLE ON DECK
“Our captain had left us at this time and Phillips told me to run and tell
him what the Carpathia had answered. I did so, and I went through an awful
mass of people to his cabin. The decks were full of scrambling men and
women. I saw no fighting, but I heard tell of it.
“I came back and heard Phillips giving the Carpathia fuller directions.
Phillips told me to put on my clothes. Until that moment I forgot that I
was not dressed.
“I went to my cabin and dressed. I brought an overcoat to Phillips. It was
very cold. I slipped the overcoat upon him while he worked.
“Every few minutes Phillips would send me to the captain with little
messages. They were merely telling how the Carpathia was coming our way
and gave her speed.
“I noticed as I came back from one trip that they were putting off women
and children in life-boats. I noticed that the list forward was
increasing.
“Phillips told me the wireless was growing weaker. The captain came and
told us our engine rooms were taking water and that the dynamos might not
last much longer. We sent that word to the Carpathia.
“I went out on deck and looked around. The water was pretty close up to
the boat deck. There was a great scramble aft, and how poor Phillips
worked through it right to the end I don’t know.
“He was a brave man. I learned to love him that night and I suddenly felt
for him a great reverence to see him standing there sticking to his work
while everybody else was raging about. I will never live to forget the
work of Phillips for the last awful fifteen minutes.
“I thought it was about time to look about and see if there was anything
detached that would float. I remembered that every member of the crew had
a special life-belt and ought to know where it was. I remembered mine was
under my bunk. I went and got it. Then I thought how cold the water was.
“I remembered I had an extra jacket and a pair of boots, and I put them
on. I saw Phillips standing out there still sending away, giving the
Carpathia details of just how we were doing.
“We picked up the Olympic and told her we were sinking by the head and
were about all down. As Phillips was sending the message I strapped his
life-belt to his back. I had already put on his overcoat. Every minute was
precious, so I helped him all I could.
BAND PLAYS IN RAG-TIME
“From aft came the tunes of the band. It was a rag-time tune, I don’t know
what. Then there was ‘Autumn.’ Phillips ran aft and that was the last I
ever saw of him.
“I went to the place where I had seen a collapsible boat on the boat deck,
and to my surprise I saw the boat and the men still trying to push it off.
I guess there wasn’t a sailor in the crowd. They couldn’t do it. I went up
to them and was just lending a hand when a large wave came awash of the
deck.
“The big wave carried the boat off. I had hold of a row-lock and I went
off with it. The next I knew I was in the boat.
“But that was not all. I was in the boat and the boat was upside down and
I was under it. And I remember realizing I was wet through, and that
whatever happened I must not breathe, for I was under water.
“I knew I had to fight for it and I did. How I got out from under the boat
I do not know, but I felt a breath of air at last.
“There were men all around me hundreds of them. The sea was dotted with
them, all depending on their life-belts. I felt I simply had to get away
from the ship. She was a beautiful sight then.
“Smoke and sparks were rushing out of her funnel, and there must have been
an explosion, but we had heard none. We only saw the big stream of sparks.
The ship was gradually turning on her nose just like a duck does that goes
down for a dive. I had one thing on my mind—to get away from the
suction. The band was still playing, and I guess they all went down.
“They were playing ‘Autumn’ then. I swam with all my might. I suppose I
was 150 feet away when the Titanic, on her nose, with her after-quarter
sticking straight up in the air, began to settle slowly.
“When at last the waves washed over her rudder there wasn’t the least bit
of suction I could feel. She must have kept going just as slowly as she
had been.
“I forgot to mention that, besides the Olympic and Carpathia, we spoke
some German boat, I don’t know which, and told them how we were. We also
spoke the Baltic. I remembered those things as I began to figure what
ships would be coming toward us.
“I felt, after a little while, like sinking. I was very cold. I saw a boat
of some kind near me and put all my strength into an effort to swim to it.
It was hard work. I was all done when a hand reached out from the boat and
pulled me aboard. It was our same collapsible.
“There was just room for me to roll on the edge. I lay there, not caring
what happened. Somebody sat on my legs; they were wedged in between slats
and were being wrenched. I had not the heart left to ask the man to move.
It was a terrible sight all around—men swimming and sinking.
“I lay where I was, letting the man wrench my feet out of shape. Others
came near. Nobody gave them a hand. The bottom-up boat already had more
men than it would hold and it was sinking.
“At first the larger waves splashed over my head and I had to breathe when
I could.
“Some splendid people saved us. They had a right-side-up boat, and it was
full to its capacity. Yet they came to us and loaded us all into it. I saw
some lights off in the distance and knew a steamship was coming to our
aid.
“I didn’t care what happened. I just lay, and gasped when I could and felt
the pain in my feet. At last the Carpathia was alongside and the people
were being taken up a rope ladder. Our boat drew near, and one b{y} one
the men were taken off of it.
“The way the band kept playing was a noble thing. I heard it first while
we were working wireless, when there was a rag-time tune for us, and the
last I saw of the band, when I was floating out in the sea, with my
life-belt on, it was still on deck playing ‘Autumn.’ How they ever did it
I cannot imagine.
“That and the way Phillips kept sending after the captain told him his
life was his own, and to look out for himself, are two things that stand
out in my mind over all the rest.”
CHAPTER XVIII. STORY OF THE STEWARD
PASSENGERS AND CREW DYING WHEN TAKEN ABOARD CARPATHIA—ONE WOMAN
SAVED A DOG—ENGLISH COLONEL SWAM FOR HOURS WHEN BOAT WITH MOTHER
CAPSIZED
SOME of the most thrilling incidents connected with the rescue of the
Titanic’s survivors are told in the following account given by a man
trained to the sea, a steward of the rescue ship Carpathia:
“At midnight on Sunday, April 14th, I was promenading the deck of the
steamer Carpathia, bound for the Mediterranean and three days out from New
York, when an urgent summons came to my room from the chief steward, E.
Harry Hughes. I then learned that the White Star liner Titanic, the
greatest ship afloat, had struck an iceberg and was in serious
difficulties.
“We were then already steaming at our greatest power to the scene of the
disaster, Captain Rostron having immediately given orders that every man
of the crew should stand by to exert his utmost efforts. Within a very few
minutes every preparation had been made to receive two or three thousand
persons. Blankets were placed ready, tables laid with hot soups and
coffee, bedding, etc., prepared, and hospital supplies laid out ready to
attend to any injured.
“The men were then mustered in the saloon and addressed by the chief
steward. He told them of the disaster and appealed to them in a few words
to show the world what stuff Britishers were made of, and to add a
glorious page to the history of the empire; and right well did the men
respond to the appeal. Every life-boat was manned and ready to be launched
at a moment’s notice. Nothing further could be done but anxiously wait and
look out for the ship’s distress signal.
“Our Marconi operator, whose unceasing efforts for many hours deserve the
greatest possible praise, was unable at this time to get any reply to the
urgent inquiries he was sending out, and he feared the worst.
“At last a blue flare was observed, to which we replied with a rocket. Day
was just dawning when we observed a boat in the distance.
ICEBERG AND FIRST BOAT SIGHTED
“Eastward on the horizon a huge iceberg, the cause of the disaster,
majestically reared two noble peaks to heaven. Rope ladders were already
lowered and we hove to near the life-boat, which was now approaching us as
rapidly as the nearly exhausted efforts of the men at the oars could bring
her.
“Under the command of our chief officer, who worked indefatigably at the
noble work of rescue, the survivors in
{illust. caption = Above: MAIN STAIRWAY ON TITANIC. TOP E DECK Below:
SECOND LANDING. C DECK. GRAND STAIRWAY}
{illust. caption = MRS. JOHN B. THAYER
Mrs. Thayer and her son were….}
{illust. caption = JOHN B. THAYER
Second Vice-President of the…}
the boat were rapidly but carefully hauled aboard and given into the hands
of the medical staff under the organization of Dr. McGee.
“We then learned the terrible news that the gigantic vessel, the
unsinkable Titanic, had gone down one hour and ten minutes after striking.
“From this time onward life-boats continued to arrive at frequent
intervals. Every man of the Carpathia’s crew was unsparing in his efforts
to assist, to tenderly comfort each and every survivor. In all, sixteen
boatloads were receives, containing altogether 720 persons, many in simply
their night attire, others in evening dress, as if direct from an
after-dinner reception, or concert. Most conspicuous was the coolness and
self-possession, particularly of the women.
“Pathetic and heartrending incidents were many. There was not a man of the
rescue party who was not moved almost to tears. Women arrived and
frantically rushed from one gangway to another eagerly scanning the fresh
arrivals in the boats for a lost husband or brother.
A CAPSIZED BOAT
“One boat arrived with the unconscious body of an English colonel. He had
been taking out his mother on a visit, to three others of her sons. He had
succeeded in getting her away in one of the boats and he himself had found
a place in another. When but a few-yards from the ill-fated ship the boat
containing his mother capsized before his eyes.
“Immediately he dived into the water and commenced a frantic search for
her. But in vain. Boat after boat endeavored to take him aboard, but he
refused to give up, continuing to swim for nearly three hours until even
his great strength of body and mind gave out and he was hauled unconscious
into a passing boat and brought aboard the Carpathia. The doctor gives
little hope of his recovery.
“There were, I understand, twelve newly married couples aboard the big
ship. The twelve brides have been saved, but of the husbands all but one
have perished. That one would not have been here, had he not been urged to
assist in manning a life-boat. Think of the self-sacrifice of these eleven
heroes, who stood on the doomed vessel and parted from their brides
forever, knowing full well that a few brief minutes would end all things
for themselves.
“Many similar pathetic incidents could be related. Sad-eyed women roam
aimlessly about the ship still looking vainly for husband, brother or
father. To comfort them is impossible. All human efforts are being exerted
on their behalf. Their material needs are satisfied in every way. But who
can cure a broken heart?
SAVED HER POMERANIAN
“One of the earliest boats to arrive was seen to contain a woman tenderly
clasping a pet Pomeranian. When assisted to the rope ladder and while the
rope was being fastened around her she emphatically refused to give up for
a second the dog which was evidently so much to her. He is now receiving
as careful and tender attention as his mistress.
“A survivor informs me that there was on the ship a lady who was taking
out a huge great Dane dog. When the boats were rapidly filling she
appeared on deck with her canine companion and sadly entreated that he
should be taken off with her. It was impossible. Human lives, those of
women and children, were the first consideration. She was urged to seize
the opportunity to save her own life and leave the dog. She refused to
desert him and, I understand, sacrificed her life with him.
“One elderly lady was bewailing to a steward that she had lost everything.
He indignantly replied that she should thank God her life was spared,
never mind her replaceable property. The reply was pathetic:
“‘I have lost everything—my husband,’ and she broke into
uncontrollable grief.
FOUR BOATS ADRIFT HE SAYS
“One incident that impressed me perhaps more than any other was the burial
on Tuesday afternoon of four of the poor fellows who succeeded in safely
getting away from the doomed vessel only to perish later from exhaustion
and exposure as a result of their gallant efforts to bring to safety the
passengers placed in their charge in the life-boats. They were:
“W. H. Hoyte, Esq., first class passenger.
“Abraham Hornner, third class passenger.
“S. C. Siebert, steward.
“P. Lyons, sailor.
“The sailor and steward were unfortunately dead when taken aboard. The
passengers lived but a few minutes after. They were treated with the
greatest attention. The funeral service was conducted amid profound
silence and attended by a large number of survivors and rescuers. The
bodies, covered by the national flag, were reverently consigned to the
mighty deep from which they had been, alas, vainly, saved.
“Most gratifying to the officers and men of the Carpathia is the
constantly expressive appreciation of the survivors.”
He then told of the meeting of the survivors in the cabin of the Carpathia
and of the resolution adopted, a statement of which has already been given
in another chapter.
CHAPTER XIX. HOW THE WORLD RECEIVED THE NEWS
NATIONS PROSTRATE WITH GRIEF—MESSAGES FROM KINGS AND CARDINALS—DISASTER
STIRS WORLD TO NECESSITY OF STRICTER REGULATIONS
YOUNG and old, rich and poor were prostrated by the news of the disaster.
Even Wall Street was neglected. Nor was the grief confined to America.
European nations felt the horror of the calamity and sent expressions of
sympathy. President Taft made public cablegrams received from the King and
Queen of England, and the King of Belgium, conveying their sympathy to the
American people in the sorrows which have followed the Titanic disaster.
The President’s responses to both messages were also made public.
The following was the cablegram from King George, dated at Sandringham:
“The Queen and I are anxious to assure you and the American nation of the
great sorrow which we experienced at the terrible loss of life that has
occurred among the American citizens, as well as among my own subjects, by
the foundering of the Titanic. Our two countries are so intimately allied
by ties of friendship and brotherhood that any misfortunes which affect
the one must necessarily affect the other, and on the present terrible
occasion they are both equally sufferers.
“GEORGE R. AND I.”
President Taft’s reply was as follows:
“In the presence of the appalling disaster to the Titanic the people of
the two countries are brought into community of grief through their common
bereavement. The American people share in the sorrow of their kinsmen
beyond the sea. On behalf of my countrymen I thank you for your
sympathetic message.
The message from King Albert of Belgium was as follows:
“I beg Your Excellency to accept my deepest condolences on the occasion of
the frightful catastrophe to the Titanic, which has caused such mourning
in the American nation.”
The President’s acknowledgment follows:
“I deeply appreciate your sympathy with my fellow-countrymen who have been
stricken with affliction through the disaster to the Titanic.”
MESSAGE PROM SPAIN
King Alfonso and Queen Victoria sent the following cablegram to President
Taft:
“We have learned with profound grief of the catastrophe to the Titanic,
which has plunged the American nation in mourning. We send you our
sincerest condolence, and wish to assure you and your nation of the
sentiments of friendship and sympathy we feel toward you.”
A similar telegram was sent to the King of England.
The many expressions of grief to reach President Taft included one signed
jointly by the three American Cardinals, who were in New York attending
the meeting of the trustees of the Catholic University. It said:
“TO THE PRESIDENT OF THE UNITED STATES:
“The archbishops of the country, in joint session with the trustees of the
Catholic University of America, beg to offer to the President of the
United States their expression of their profound grief at the awful loss
of human lives attendant upon the sinking of the steamship Titanic, and at
the same time to assure the relatives of the victims of this horrible
disaster of our deepest sympathy and condolence.
“They wish also to attest hereby to the hope that the law-makers of the
country will see in this sad accident the obvious necessity of legal
provisions for greater security of ocean travel.
HOUSE ADJOURNED
Formal tribute to the Titanic’s dead was paid by the House of
Representatives when it adjourned for twenty-four hours.
The prayer of the Rev. Henry N. Couden in opening the House session was,
in part:
“We thank Thee that though in the ordinary circumstances of life
selfishness and greed seem to be in the ascendancy, yet in times of
distress and peril, then it is that the nobility of soul, the Godlike in
man, asserts itself and makes heroes.”
The flags on the White House and other Government buildings throughout the
country were at half-staff.
ROME MOURNED MAJOR BUTT
A special telegram from Rome stated that one of the victims most regretted
was Major Butt, whose jovial, bright character made many friends there.
Besides autograph letters from the Pope and Cardinal Merry del VaI{sic?}
to President Taft, the major had with him a signed photograph of the
Pontiff, given by him personally.
Cardinal Merry del Val had several conversations with Major Butt, who
declared that the cardinal was “the first gentleman of Europe.” Shortly
before he was leaving Rome, regretting that he had not a signed picture of
Cardinal Merry del Val, Major Butt entrusted a friend to ask for one. The
cardinal willingly put an autograph dedication on a picture, recalling
their pleasant intercourse.
LONDON NEWSPAPERS CONDEMN LAXITY OF LAW
British indignation, which is not easily excited, was aroused over the
knowledge that an antiquated law enables steamship companies to fail to
provide sufficient life-boats to accommodate the passengers and crew of
the largest liners in the event of such a disaster as that which occurred
to the Titanic. It will be insisted that there be an investigation of the
loss of life in the Titanic and that the shortage of boats be gone into
thoroughly.
The newspapers commented adversely on the lack of boats and their views
were emphasized by the knowledge that no attempt has been made to change
the regulations in the face of the fact that the inadequacy of boats in
such an emergency was called to the attention of Parliament at the time of
the collision between the White Star liner Olympic and the cruiser Hawke.
It was pointed out at this time that German vessels, much smaller in size
than the Olympic, carried more boats and also that these boats were of
greater capacity.
T. W. Moore, Secretary of the Merchant Service Guild, when seen at the
guild’s rooms in Liverpool, said:
“The Titanic disaster is an example, on a colossal scale, of the
pernicious and supine system of officials, as represented by the Board of
Trade. Modern liners are so designed that they have no accommodations for
more life-boats. Among practical seamen it has long been recognized that
the modern passenger ship has nothing like adequate boat capacity.
“The Board of Trade has its own views, and the shipowners also have their
views, which are largely based upon the economical factor. The naval
architects have their opinions, but the practical merchant seaman is not
consulted.
“The Titanic disaster is a complete substantiation of the agitation that
our guild has carried on for nearly twenty years against the scheme that
has precluded practical seamen from being consulted with regard to boat
capacity and life-saving appliances.
HOUSE OF COMMONS INVESTIGATION
Immediate and searching inquiry into the Titanic disaster was promised on
the floor of the House of Commons April 18th, by President Sidney Buxton,
of the Board of Trade, which controls all sea-going vessels.
Buxton, in discussing the utterly inadequate life-saving equipment of the
big liner, declared that the committee of the board in charge of
life-saving precautions had recently recommended increased life-boats,
rafts and life-preservers on all big ships, but that the requirements had
been found unsatisfactory and had not been put in force. He frankly
admitted the necessity for increased equipment without delay.
The board, he said, was utterly unable to compel the transatlantic vessels
to reduce their speed in the contest for “express train” ships. He also
said the board could not force ships to take the southerly passage in the
spring to avoid ice.
The regulations under which the Titanic carried life-boat accommodations
for only about one-third of her passengers and crew had not been revised
by the committee since 1894. At that time the regulations were made for
ships of “10,000 tons or more.” The Titanic’s tonnage was 45,000, for
which the present requirements are altogether insufficient.
WORK OF RAISING RELIEF FUNDS PROMPT
Several foreign governments telegraphed to the British Government messages
of condolence for the sufferers. The King sent a donation of $2625 to the
Mansion House fund. Queen Mary donated $1310 and Queen Alexandra $1000 to
the same fund.
Oscar Hammerstein proffered, and the lord mayor accepted, the use of his
opera house for an entertainment in aid of the fund.
The Shipping Federation donated $10,500 to the Mayor of Southampton’s
fund, taking care to explain that the White Star Line was not affiliated
with the Federation.
Some public institutions also offered to take care of the orphaned
children of the crew.
Large firms contributed liberally to the various relief funds, while
Covent Garden and other leading theaters prepared special performances to
aid in the relief work.
INDIGNANT GERMANY DEMANDS REFORMS
All Germany as well as England was stunned and grieved by the magnitude of
the horror of the Titanic catastrophe. Anglo-German recriminations for the
moment ceased, as far as the Fatherland was concerned, and profound and
sincere compassion for the nation on whom the blow had fallen more heavily
was the supreme note of the hour.
The Kaiser, with his characteristic promptitude, was one of the first to
communicate his sympathy by telegraph to King George and to the White Star
Line. Admiral Prince Henry of Prussia did likewise, and the first act of
the Reichstag, after reassembling on Tuesday, was to pass a standing vote
of condolence with the British people in their distress.
GERMAN LAWS ALSO INADEQUATE
The German laws, governing the safety appliances on board trans-oceanic
vessels, seem to be as archaic and inadequate as those of the British
Board of Trade. The maximum provision contained in the German statutes
refers to vessels with the capacity of 50,000 cubic metres, which must
carry sixteen life-boats. The law also says that if this number of
life-boats be insufficient to accommodate all the persons on board,
including the crew, there shall be carried elsewhere in the vessel a
correspondingly additional number of collapsible life-boats, suitable
rafts, floating deck-chairs and life-buoys, as well as a generous supply
of life-belts.
A vessel of 10,000 tons was a “leviathan” in the days when the German law
was passed, and it appears to have undergone no change to meet the
conditions, imposed by the construction of vessels twice or three times
10,000 tons, like the Hamburg-American Kaiserin Auguste Victoria, or the
North German Lloyd George Washington, to say nothing of the 50,000-ton
Imperator, which is to be added to the Hamburg fleet next year.
The German lines seem, like the White Star Company, to have reckoned
simply with the practical impossibility of a ship like the Titanic
succumbing to the elements
PERSONAL ANXIETY
Although Germany’s and Berlin’s direct interest in the passengers aboard
the Titanic was less than that of London, New York or Paris, there was the
utmost concern for their fate.
Ambassador Leishman and other members of the American Embassy were
particularly interested in hearing about Major “Archie” Butt, who passed
through Berlin, less than a month before the disaster, en route from
Russia and the Far East. Vice-president John B. Thayer and family, of
Philadelphia, were also in Berlin a fortnight ago and were guests of the
American Consul General and Mrs. Thackara. A score of other lesser known
passengers had recently stayed in Berlin hotels, and it was local friends
or kinsmen of theirs who were in a state of distressing unrest over their
fate.
Their anxiety was aggravated by the old-fogey methods of the German
newspapers, which are invariably twelve or fifteen hours later than
journals elsewhere in Europe on world news events. Although New York,
London and Paris had the cruel truth with their morning papers on Tuesday,
it was not until the middle of the forenoon that “extras” made the facts
public in Berlin.
William T. Stead was well and favorably known in Germany, and his fate was
keenly and particularly mourned. Germans have also noted that many
Americans of direct Teutonic ancestry or origin were among the shining
marks in the death list. Colonel John Jacob Astor is claimed as of German,
extraction, as well as Isidor Straus, Benjamin Guggenheim, Washington
Roebling and Henry B. Harris. All of them had been in Germany frequently
and had a wide circle of friends and acquaintances.
Only one well-known resident of Berlin was aboard the Titanic, Frau
Antoinette Flegenheim, whose name appears among the rescued.
CHAPTER XX. BRAVERY OF THE OFFICERS AND CREW
ILLUSTRIOUS CAREER OF CAPTAIN E. J. SMITH—BRAVE TO THE LAST—MAINTENANCE
OF ORDER AND DISCIPLINE—ACTS OF HEROISM—ENGINEERS DIED AT
POSTS—NOBLE-HEARTED BAND
IN the anxious hours of uncertainty, when the air cracked and flashed with
the story of disaster, there was never doubt in the minds of men ashore
about the master of the Titanic. Captain Smith would bring his ship into
port if human power could mend the damage the sea had wrought, or if human
power could not stay the disaster he would never come to port. There is
something Calvinistic about such men of the old-sea breed. They go down
with their ships, of their own choice.
Into the last life-boat that was launched from the ship Captain Smith with
his own hand lifted a small child into a seat beside its mother. As the
gallant, officer performed his simple act of humanity several who were
already in the boat tried to force the captain to join them, but he turned
away resolutely toward the bridge.
That act was significant. Courteous, kindly, of quiet demeanor and soft
words, he was known and loved by thousands of travelers.
When the English firm, A. Gibson & Co.9 of Liverpool, purchased the
American clipper, Senator Weber, in 1869, Captain Smith, then a boy,
sailed on her. For seven years he was an apprentice on the Senator Weber,
leaving that vessel to go to the Lizzie Fennell, a square rigger, as
fourth officer. From there he went to the old Celtic of the White Star
Line as fourth officer and in 1887 he became captain of that vessel. For a
time he was in command of the freighters Cufic and Runic; then he became
skipper of the old Adriatic. Subsequently he assumed command of the
Celtic, Britannic, Coptic (which was in the Australian trade), Germanic,
Baltic, Majestic, Olympic and Titanic, an illustrious list of vessels for
one man to have commanded during his career.
It was not easy to get Captain Smith to talk of his experiences. He had
grown up in the service, was his comment, and it meant little to him that
he had been transferred from a small vessel to a big ship and then to a
bigger ship and finally to the biggest of them all.
“One might think that a captain taken from a small ship and put on a big
one might feel the transition,” he once said. “Not at all. The skippers of
the big vessels have grown up to them, year after year, through all these
years. First there was the sailing vessel and then what we would now call
small ships—they were big in the days gone by—and finally the
giants to-day.”
{illust. caption = VESSEL WITH BOTTOM OF HULL RIPPED OPEN
A view of the torpedo destroyer Tiger, taken in drydock after her
collision with the Portland Breakwater last September; the damage to the
Tiger, which is plainly shown in the photograph, is of the same character,
though on a smaller scale, as that which was done to the Titanic.}
{illust. caption = A VIEW OF THE OLYMPIC
The sister-ship of the Titanic, showing the damage done to her hull in the
collision with British war vessel, Hawke, in the British Channel.}
DISASTER TO OLYMPIC
Only once during all his long years of service was he in trouble, when the
Olympic, of which he was in command, was rammed by the British cruiser
Hawke in the Solent on September 20, 1911. The Hawke came steaming out of
Portsmouth and drew alongside the giantess. According to some of the
passengers on the Olympic the Hawke swerved in the direction of the big
liner and a moment later the bow of the Hawke was crunching steel plates
in the starboard quarter of the Olympic, making a thirty-foot hole in her.
She was several months in dry dock.
The result of a naval court inquiry was to put all the blame for the
collision on the Olympic. Captain Smith, in his testimony before the naval
court, said that he was on the bridge when he saw the Hawke overhauling
him. The Olympic began to draw ahead later or the Hawke drop astern, the
captain did not know which. Then the cruiser turned very swiftly and
struck the Olympic at right angles on the quarter. The pilot gave the
signal for the Olympic to port, which was to minimize the force of the
collision. The Olympic’s engines had been stopped by order of the pilot.
Up to the moment the Hawke swerved, Captain Smith said, he had no anxiety.
The pilot, Bowyer, corroborated the testimony of Captain Smith. That the
line did not believe Captain Smith was at fault, notwithstanding the
verdict of the board of naval inquiry, was shown by his retention as the
admiral of the White Star fleet and by his being given the command of the
Titanic.
Up to the time of the collision with the Hawke Captain Smith when asked by
interviewers to describe his experiences at sea would say one word,
“uneventful.” Then he would add with a smile and a twinkle of his eyes:
“Of course there have been winter gales and storms and fog and the like in
the forty years I have been on the seas, but I have never been in an
accident worth speaking of. In all my years at sea (he made this comment a
few years ago) I have seen but one vessel in distress. That was a brig the
crew of which was taken off in a boat by my third officer. I never saw a
wreck. I never have been wrecked. I have never been in a predicament that
threatened to end in disaster of any sort.”
THE CAPTAIN’S LOVE OF THE SEA
Once the interviewer stopped asking personal questions, Captain Smith
would talk of the sea, of his love for it, how its appeal to him as a boy
had never died.
“The love of the ocean that took me to sea as a boy has never died.” he
once said. “When I see a vessel plunging up and down in the trough of the
sea, fighting her way through and over great waves, and keeping her keel
and going on and on—the wonder of the thing fills me, how she can
keep afloat and get safely to port. I have never outgrown the wild
grandeur of the sea.”
When he was in command of the Adriatic, which was built before the
Olympic, Captain Smith said he did not believe a disaster with loss of
life could happen to the Adriatic.
“I cannot conceive of any vital disaster happening to the Adriatic,” he
said. “Modern shipbuilding has gone beyond that. There will be bigger
boats. The depth of harbors seems to be the great drawback at present. I
cannot say, of course, just what the limit will be, but the larger boat
will surely come. But speed will not develop with size, so far as
merchantmen are concerned.
“The traveling public prefers the large comfortable boat of average speed,
and anyway that is the boat that pays. High speed eats up money mile by
mile, and extreme high speed is suicidal. There will be high speed boats
for use as transports and a wise government will assist steamship
companies in paying for them, as the English Government is now doing in
the cases of the Lusitania and Mauretania, twenty-five knot boats; but no
steamship company will put them out merely as a commercial venture.”
Captain Smith believed the Titanic to be unsinkable.
BRAVE TO THE LAST
And though the ship turned out to be sinkable, the captain, by many acts
of bravery in the face of death, proved that his courage was equal to any
test.
Captain Inman Sealby, commander of the steamer Republic, which was the
first vessel to use the wireless telegraph to save her passengers in a
collision, spoke highly of the commander of the wrecked Titanic, calling
him one of the ablest seamen in the world.
“I am sure that Captain Smith did everything in his power to save his
passengers. The disaster is one about which he could have had no warning.
Things may happen at sea that give no warning to ships’ crews and
commanders until the harm comes. I believe from what I read that the
Titanic hit an iceberg and glanced off, but that the berg struck her from
the bottom and tore a great hole.”
Many survivors have mentioned the captain’s name and narrated some
incident to bring out his courage and helpfulness in the emergency; but it
was left to a fireman on board the Titanic to tell the story of his death
and to record his last message. This man had gone down with the White Star
giantess and was clinging to a piece of wreckage for about half an hour
before he finally joined several members of the Titanic’s company on the
bottom of a boat which was floating about among other wreckage near the
Titanic.
Harry Senior, the fireman, with his eight or nine companions in distress,
had just managed to get a firm hold in the upturned boat when they saw the
Titanic rearing preparatory to her final plunge. At that moment, according
to the fireman’s story, Captain Smith jumped into the sea from the
promenade deck of the Titanic with a little girl clutched in his arms. It
took only a few strokes to bring him to the upturned boat, where a dozen
hands were stretched out to take the little child from his arms and drag
him to a point of safety.
“Captain Smith was dragged onto the upturned boat,” said the fireman. “He
had a life-buoy and a life-preserver. He clung there for a moment and then
he slid off again. For a second time he was dragged from the icy water.
Then he took off his life-preserver, tossed the life-buoy on the inky
waters, and slipped into the water again with the words: “I will follow
the ship.”
OTHER FAITHFUL MEN
Nor was the captain the only faithful man on the ship. Of the many stories
told by survivors all seem to agree that both officers and crew behaved
with the utmost gallantry and that they stuck by the ship nobly to the
last.
“Immediately after the Titanic struck the iceberg,” said one of the
survivors, “the officers were all over the ship reassuring the passengers
and calming the more excitable. They said there was no cause for alarm.
When everything was quieted they told us we might go back to bed, as the
ship was safe. There was no confusion and many returned to their beds.
“We did not know that the ship was in danger until a comparatively short
time before she sank. Then we were called on deck and the life-boats were
filled and lowered.
“The behavior of the ship’s officers at this time was wonderful. There was
no panic, no scramble for places in the boats.”
Later there was confusion, and according to most of the passengers’
narratives, there were more than fifty shots fired upon the deck by
officers or others in the effort to maintain the discipline.
FIFTH OFFICER LOWE
A young English woman who requested that her name be omitted told a
thrilling story of her experience in one of the collapsible boats which
had been manned by eight of the crew from the Titanic. The boat was in
command of the fifth officer, H. Lowe, whose actions she described as
saving the lives of many people. Before the life-boat was launched he
passed along the port deck of the steamer, commanding the people not to
jump in the boats, and otherwise restraining them from swamping the craft.
When the collapsible was launched Officer Lowe succeeded in putting up a
mast and a small sail. He collected the other boats together, in some
cases the boats were short of adequate crews, and he directed an exchange
by which each was adequately manned. He threw lines connecting the boats
together, two by two, and thus all moved together. Later on he went back
to the wreck with the crew of one of the boats and succeeded in picking up
some of those who had jumped overboard and were swimming about. On his way
back to the Carpathia he passed one of the collapsible boats which was on
the point of sinking with thirty passengers aboard, most of them in scant
night-clothing. They were rescued just in the nick of time.
ENGINEERS DIED AT POSTS
There were brave men below deck, too. “A lot has been printed in the
papers about the heroism of the officers,” said one survivor, “but little
has been said of the bravery of the men below decks. I was told that
seventeen enginemen who were drowned side by side got down on their knees
on the platform of the engine room and prayed until the water surged up to
their necks. Then they stood up, clasped hands so as to form a circle and
died together. All of these men helped rake the fires out from ten of the
forward boilers after the crash. This delayed the explosion and
undoubtedly permitted the ship to remain afloat nearly an hour longer, and
thus saved hundreds of lives.”
In the list of heroes who went down on the Titanic the names of her
engineers will have a high place, for not a single engineer was saved.
Many of them, no doubt, could not get to the deck, but they had equally as
good a chance as the firemen, sixty-nine of whom were saved.
The supposition of those who manned the Titanic was that the engineers,
working below, were the first to know the desperate character of the
Titanic’s injury. The watch called the others, and from that time until
the vessel was ready for her last plunge they were too hard at work to
note more than that there was a constant rise of water in the hull, and
that the pumps were useless.
It was engineers who kept the lights going, saw to the proper closing of
bulkhead doors and kept the stoke hole at work until the uselessness of
the task was apparent. Most of them probably died at their post of duty.
The Titanic carried a force of about sixty engineers, and in addition she
had at least twenty-five “guarantee” engineers, representatives of Harland
and Wolff, the builders, and those who had the contract for the
engineering work. This supplementary force was under Archie Frost, the
builders’ chief engineer, and the regular force was under Chief Engineer
William Bell, of the White Star Line.
On the line’s ships there is the chief engineer, senior and junior second,
senior and junior third, and senior and junior fourth engineers. The men
are assigned each to his own task. There are hydraulic, electric, pump and
steam packing men, and the “guarantee” engineers, representing the
builders and the contractors.
The duty of the “guarantee” engineers is to watch the working of the great
engines, and to see that they are tuned up and in working order. They also
watch the working of each part of the machinery which had nothing to do
with the actual speed of the ship, principally the electric light dynamos
and the refrigerating plant.
NOBLE-HEARTED BAND
“But what of the bandsmen? Who were they?”
This question was asked again and again by all who read the story of the
Titanic’s sinking and of how the brave musicians played to the last,
keeping up the courage of those who were obliged to go down with the ship.
Many efforts were made to find out who the men were, but little was made
public until the members of the orchestra of the steamship Celtic reached
shore for the first time after the disaster. One of their first queries
was about the musicians of the Titanic. Their anxiety was greater than
that of any New Yorker, for the members of the band of the Celtic knew
intimately the musicians of the ill-fated liner.
“Not one of them saved!” cried John S. Carr, ‘cellist on the Celtic. “It
doesn’t seem possible they have all gone.
“We knew most of them well. They were Englishmen, you know—every one
of them, I think. Nearly all the steamship companies hire their musicians
abroad, and the men interchange between the ships frequently, so we get a
chance to know one another pretty well. The musicians for the Titanic were
levied from a number of other White Star ships, but most of the men who
went down with the Titanic had bunked with us at some time.”
“The thing I can’t realize is that happy ‘Jock’ Hume is dead,” exclaimed
Louis Cross, a player of the bass viol. “He was the merriest, happiest
young Scotchman you ever saw. His family have been making musical
instruments in Scotland for generations. I heard him say once that they
were minstrels in the old days. It is certainly hard to believe that he is
not alive and having his fun somewhere in the world.”
At least he helped to make the deaths of many less cruel.
CHAPTER XXI. SEARCHING FOR THE DEAD
SENDING OUT THE MACKAY-BENNETT AND MINIA—BREMEN PASSENGERS SEE
BODIES—IDENTIFYING BODIES—CONFUSION IN NAMES—RECOVERIES
A FEW days after the disaster the cable steamer Mackay-Bennett was sent
out by the White Star Line to cruise in the vicinity of the disaster and
search for missing bodies.
Two wireless messages addressed to J. Bruce Ismay, president of the
International Mercantile Marine Company, were received on April 21st at
the offices of the White Star Line from the cable ship Mackay-Bennett, via
Cape Race, one of which reported that the steamship Rhein had sighted
bodies near the scene of the Titanic wreck. The first message, which was
dated April 20th, read:
“Steamer Rhein reports passing wreckage and bodies 42.1 north, 49.13 west,
eight miles west of three big icebergs. Now making for that position.
Expect to arrive 8 o’clock to-night.
The second message read:
“Received further information from Bremen (presumably steamship Bremen)
and arrived on ground at 8 o’clock P. M. Start on operation to-morrow.
Have been considerably delayed on passage by dense fog.
After receiving these messages Mr. Ismay issued the following statement:
“The cable ship Mackay-Bennett has been chartered by the White Star Line
and ordered to proceed to the scene of the disaster and do all she could
to recover the bodies and glean all information possible.
“Every effort will be made to identify bodies recovered, and any news will
be sent through immediately by wireless. In addition to any such message
as these, the Mackay-Bennett will make a report of its activities each
morning by wireless, and such reports will be made public at the offices
of the White Star Line.
“The cable ship has orders to remain on the scene of the wreck for at
least a week, but should a large number of bodies be recovered before that
time she will return to Halifax with them. The search for bodies will not
be abandoned until not a vestige of hope remains for any more recoveries.
“The Mackay-Bennett will not make any soundings, as they would not serve
any useful purpose, because the depth where the Titanic sank is more than
2000 fathoms.”
On April 22d the first list of twenty-seven names of bodies recovered was
made public. It contained that of Frederick Sutton, a well-known member of
the Union League of Philadelphia. It did not contain the name of any other
prominent man who perished, although it was thought that the name “George
W. Widen” might refer to George D. Widener, son of P. A. B. Widener, of
Philadelphia. The original passenger lists of the Titanic did not mention
“Widen,” which apparently established the identity of the body as that of
Mr. Widener, who, together with his son, Harry, was lost.
The wireless message, after listing the names, concluded, “All preserved,”
presumably referring to the condition of the bodies.
A number of the names in the list did not check up with the Titanic’s
passenger list, which led to the belief that a number of the bodies
recovered were members of the Titanic’s crew.
MINIA SENT TO ASSIST
At noon, April 23d, there was posted on the bulletin in the White Star
office this message from the Mackay-Bennett dated Sunday, April 21st:
“Latitude, 41.58; longitude, 49.21. Heavy southwest swell has interfered
with operations. Seventy-seven bodies recovered. All not embalmed will be
buried at sea at 8 o’clock to-night with divine service. Can bring only
embalmed bodies to port.”
To Captain Lardner, master of the Mackay-Bennett, P. A. S. Franklin,
vice-president of the White Star Line, sent an urgent message asking that
the company be advised at once of all particulars concerning the bodies
identified, and also given any information that might lead to the
identification of others. He said it was very important that every effort
be made to bring all of the bodies possible to port.
Mr. Franklin then directed A. G. Jones, the Halifax agent of the White
Star Line, to charter the Minia and send her to the assistance of the
Mackay-Bennett. Mr. Jones answered this telegram, and said that the Minia
was ready to proceed to sea, but that a southeast gale, which generally
brings fog, might delay her departure. She left for Halifax.
NAMES BADLY GARBLED
On April 24th no wireless message was received from the Mackay-Bennett,
but the White Star Line officials and telegraphers familiar with the
wireless alphabet were busy trying to reconcile some of the names received
with those of persons who went down on the Titanic. That the body of
William T. Stead, the English journalist and author, had been recovered by
the Mackay-Bennett, but through a freakish error in wireless transmission
the name of another was reported instead, was one of the theories advanced
by persons familiar with the Morse code.
BREMEN SIGHTED MORE THAN A HUNDRED BODIES
When the German liner Bremen reached New York the account of its having
sighted bodies of the Titanic victims was obtained.
From the bridge, officers of the ship saw more than a hun-dred bodies
floating on the sea, a boat upside down, together with a number of small
pieces of wood, steamer chairs and other wreckage. As the cable ship
Mackay-Bennett was in sight, and having word that her mission was to look
for bodies, no attempt was made by the Bremen’s crew to pick up the
corpses.
In the vicinity was seen an iceberg which answered the description of the
one the Titanic struck. Smaller bergs were sighted the same day, but at
some distance from where the Titanic sank.
The officers of the Bremen did not care to talk about the tragic
spectacle, but among the passengers several were found who gave accounts
of the dismal panorama through which their ship steamed.
Mrs. Johanna Stunke, a first-cabin passenger, described the scene from the
liner’s rail.
“It was between 4 and 5 o’clock, Saturday, April 20th,” she said, “when
our ship sighted an iceberg off the bow to the starboard. As we drew
nearer, and could make out small dots floating around in the sea, a
feeling of awe and sadness crept over everyone on the ship.
“We passed within a hundred feet of the southernmost drift of the
wreckage, and looking down over the rail we distinctly saw a number of
bodies so clearly that we could make out what they were wearing and
whether they were men or women.
“We saw one woman in her night dress, with a baby clasped closely to her
breast. Several women passengers screamed and left the rail in a fainting
condition. There was another woman, fully dressed, with her arms tight
around the body of a shaggy dog.
“The bodies of three men in a group, all clinging to one steamship chair,
floated near by, and just beyond them were a dozen bodies of men, all of
them encased in life-preservers, clinging together as though in a last
desperate struggle for life. We couldn’t see, but imagined that under them
was some bit of wreckage to which they all clung when the ship went down,
and which didn’t have buoyancy enough to support them.
“Those were the only bodies we passed near enough to distinguish, but we
could see the white life-preservers of many more dotting the sea, all the
way to the iceberg. The officers told us that was probably the berg hit by
the Titanic, and that the bodies and ice had drifted along together.”
Mrs. Stunke said a number of the passengers demanded that the Bremen stop
and pick up the bodies, but the officers assured them that they had just
received a wireless message saying the cable ship Mackay-Bennett was only
two hours away fron{sic} the spot, and was coming for that express
purpose.
Other passengers corroborated Mrs. Stunke.
THE IDENTIFED{sic} DEAD.
On April 25th the White Star Line officials issued a corrected list of the
identified dead. While the corrected list cleared up two or more of the
wireless confusions that caused so much speculation in the original list,
there still remained a few names that so far as the record of the Titanic
showed were not on board that ship when she foundered.
The new list, however, established the fact that the body of George D.
Widener, of Philadelphia, was among those on the Mackay-Bennett, and two
of the bodies were identified as those of men named Butt.
THE MACKAY-BENNETT RETURNS TO PORT
After completing her search the Mackay-Bennett steamed for Halifax,
reaching that port on Tuesday, April 30th. With her flag at half mast, the
death ship docked slowly. Her crew manned the rails with bared heads, and
on the aft deck were stacked the caskets with the dead. The vessel carried
on board 190 bodies, and announcement was made that 113 other bodies had
been buried at sea.
Everybody picked up had been in a life-belt and there were no bullet holes
in any. Among those brought to port were the bodies of two women.
THE MINIA GIVES UP THE SEARCH
When at last the Minia turned her bow toward shore only thirteen
additional bodies had been recovered, making a total of 316 bodies found
by the two ships.
Further search seemed futile. Not only had the two vessels gone thoroughly
over as wide a field as might likely prove fruitful, but, in addition, the
time elapsed made it improbable that other bodies, if found, could be
brought to shore. Thus did the waves completely enforce the payment of
their terrible toll.
{illust. caption = ISADOR STRAUS
The New York millionaire merchant and philanthropist who lost his life
when the giant Titanic foundered at sea after hitting an iceberg.}
{illust. caption = ICEBERG PHOTOGRAPHED NEAR SCENE OF DISASTER
This photograph shows what is quite…}
LIST OF IDENTIFIED DEAD
Following is a list of those whose identity was wholly or partially
established:
CHAPTER XXII. CRITICISM OF ISMAY
CRIMINAL AND COWARDLY CONDUCT CHARGED—PROPER CAUTION NOT EXERCISED
WHEN PRESENCE OF ICEBERGS WAS KNOWN—SHOULD HAVE STAYED ON BOARD TO
HELP IN WORK OF RESCUE—SELFISH AND UNSYMPATHETIC ACTIONS ON BOARD
THE CARPATHIA—ISMAY’S DEFENSE—WILLIAM E. CARTER’S STATEMENT
FROM the moment that Bruce Ismay’s name was seen among those of the
survivors of the Titanic he became the object of acrid attacks in every
quarter where the subject of the disaster was discussed. Bitter criticism
held that he should have been the last to leave the doomed vessel.
His critics insisted that as managing director of the White Star Line his
responsibility was greater even than Captain Smith’s, and while granting
that his survival might still be explained, they condemned his apparent
lack of heroism. Even in England his survival was held to be the one great
blot on an otherwise noble display of masculine courage.
A prominent official of the White Star Line shook his head meaningly when
asked what he thought of Ismay’s escape with the women and children. The
general feeling seemed to be that he should have stayed aboard the sinking
vessel, looking out for those who were left, playing the man like Major
Butt and many another and going down with the ship like Captain Smith.
He was also charged with urging a speed record and with ignoring
information received with regard to icebergs.
FEELING IN ENGLAND
The belief in England was that the captain of the Carpathia had acted
under Ismay’s influence in refusing to permit any account of the disaster
to be transmitted previous to the arrival of the vessel in New York.
Ismay’s telegram making arrangements for the immediate deportation of the
survivors among the Titanic’s crew was taken to be part of the same scheme
to delay if not to prevent their stories of the wreck from being obtained
in New York.
Another circumstance which created a damaging impression was Ismay’s
failure to give the names of the surviving crew, whose distraught families
were entitled to as much consideration as those whose relatives occupied
the most expensive suites on the Titanic. The anguish endured by the
families of members of the crew was reported as indescribable, and
Southampton was literally turned into a city of weeping and tragic pathos.
The wives of two members of the crew died of shock and suspense.
CRIED FOR FOOD
Mr. Ismay’s actions while on the Carpathia were also criticised as selfish
and unwarrantable.
“For God’s sake get me something to eat, I’m starved. I don’t care what it
costs or what it is. Bring it to me.”
This was the first statement made by Mr. Ismay a few minutes after he was
landed on the Carpathia. It is vouched for by an officer of the Carpathia
who requested that his name be withheld. This officer gave one of the most
complete stories of the events that took place on the Carpathia from the
time she received the Titanic’s appeal for assistance until she landed the
survivors at the Cunard Line pier.
“Ismay reached the Carpathia in about the seventh life-boat,” said the
officer. “I didn’t know who he was, but afterward I heard the other
members of the crew discussing his desire to get something to eat the
minute he put his foot on deck. The steward who waited on him reported
that Ismay came dashing into the dining room and said.
“‘Hurry, for God’s sake, and get me something to eat, I’m starved. I don’t
care what it costs or what it is. Bring it to me.'”
“The steward brought Ismay a load of stuff and when he had finished it he
handed the man a two dollar bill. ‘Your money is no good on this ship,’
the steward told him.
“‘Take it,’ insisted Ismay. ‘I am well able to afford it. I will see to it
that the boys of the Carpathia are well rewarded for this night’s work.’
“This promise started the steward making inquiries as to the identity of
the man he had waited on. Then we learned that he was Ismay. I did not see
Ismay after the first few hours. He must have kept to his cabin.”
REPLY TO CHARGES
Mr. Ismay’s plans had been to return immediately to England, and he had
wired that the steamer Cedric be held for himself and officers and members
of the crew; but public sentiment and subpoenas of the Senate’s
investigating committee prevented. In the face of the criticism aimed
against him Mr. Ismay issued a long statement in which he not only
disclaimed responsibility for the Titanic’s fatal collision, but also
sought to clear himself of blame for everything that happened after the
big ship was wrecked.
He laid the responsibility for the tragedy on Captain Smith.
He expressed astonishment that his own conduct in the disaster had been
made the subject of inquiry. He denied that he gave any order to Captain
Smith. His position aboard was that of any other first cabin passenger, he
insisted, and he was never consulted by the captain. He denied telling
anyone that he wished the ship to make a speed record. He called attention
to the routine clause in the instructions to White Star captains ordering
them to think of safety at all times. He did not dine with the captain, he
said, and when the ship struck the berg, he was not sitting with the
captain in the saloon.
The managing director added that he was in his stateroom when the
collision occurred. He told of helping to send women and children away in
life-boats on the starboard side, and said there was no woman in sight on
deck when he and William E. Carter, of Bryn Mawr, Pa., entered the
collapsible boat—the last small craft left on that side of the
vessel. He asserted that he pulled an oar and denied that in sending the
three messages from the Carpathia, urging the White Star officials to hold
the Cedric for the survivors of the Titanic’s officers and crew, he had
any intention to block investigation of the tragedy. Ismay asserted that
he did not know there was to be an investigation until the Cunarder
docked.
Mr. William E. Carter, of Bryn Mawr, who, with his family, was saved,
confirmed Mr. Ismay’s assertions.
“Mr. Ismay’s statement is absolutely correct,” said Mr. Carter. “There
were no women on the deck when that boat was launched. We were the very
last to leave the deck, and we entered the life-boat because there were no
women to enter it.
“The deck was deserted when the boat was launched, and Mr. Ismay and
myself decided that we might as well enter the boat and pull away from the
wreck. If he wants me, I assume that he will write to me.
“I can say nothing, however, that he has not already said, as our
narratives are identical; the circumstances under which we were rescued
from the Titanic were similar. We left the boat together and were picked
up together, and, further than that, we were the very last to leave the
deck.
“I am ready to go to Washington to testify to the truth of Mr. Ismay’s
statement, and also to give my own account at any time I may be called
upon. If Mr. Ismay writes to me, asking that I give a detailed account of
our rescue I will do so.”
CHAPTER XXIII. THE FINANCIAL LOSS
TITANIC NOT FULLY INSURED—VALUABLE CARGO AND MAIL—NO CHANCE
FOR SALVAGE—LIFE INSURANCE LOSS—LOSS TO THE CARPATHIA
SO great was the interest in the tragedy and so profound the grief at the
tremendous loss of life that for a time the financial loss was not
considered. It was, however, the biggest ever suffered by marine insurance
brokers.
The value of the policy covering the vessel against all ordinary risks was
$5,000,000, but the whole of this amount was not insured, because British
and Continental markets were not big enough to swallow it. The actual
amount of insurance was $3,700,000, of which the owners themselves held
$750,000.
As to the cargo, it was insured by the shippers. The company has nothing
to do with the insurance of the cargo, which, according to the company’s
manifest, was conservatively estimated at about $420,000. Cargo, however,
was a secondary matter, so far as the Titanic was concerned. The ship was
built for high-priced passengers, and what little cargo she carried was
also of the kind that demanded quick transportation. The Titanic’s freight
was for the most part what is known as high-class package freight,
consisting of such articles as fine laces, ostrich feathers, wines,
liquors and fancy food commodities.
LOST MAIL MAY COST MILLIONS
Prior to the sailing of the vessel the postal authorities of Southampton
cabled the New York authorities that 3435 bags of mail matter were on
board.
“In a load of 3500 bags,” said Postmaster Morgan, of New York, “it is a
safe estimate to say that 200 contained registered mail. The size of
registered mail packages varies greatly, but 1000 packages for each mail
bag should be a conservative guess. That would mean that 200,000
registered packages and letters went down with the Titanic.
“This does not mean, however, that Great Britain will be held financially
responsible for all these losses. There were probably thousands of
registered packages from the Continent, and in such cases the countries of
origin will have to reimburse the senders. Moreover, in the case of money
being sent in great quantities, it is usual to insure the registry over
and above the limit of responsibility set by the country of origin.
“Probably if there were any shipping of securities mounting up to
thousands of dollars, it will be the insurance companies which will bear
the loss, and not the European post-offices at all.”
In the case of money orders, the postmaster explained, there would be no
loss, except of time, as duplicates promptly would be shipped without
further expense.
The postmaster did not know the exact sum which the various European
countries set as the limit of their guarantee in registered mail. In
America it is $50.
Underwriters will probably have to meet heavy claims of passengers for
luggage, including jewelry. Pearls of one American woman insured in London
were valued at $240,000.
NO CHANCE FOR SALVAGE
The Titanic and her valuable cargo can never be recovered, said the White
Star Line officials.
“Sinking in mid-ocean, at the depth which prevails where the accident
occurred,” said Captain James Parton, manager of the company, “absolutely
precludes any hopes of salvage.”
LIFE INSURANCE LOSS
In the life insurance offices there was much figuring over the lists of
those thought to be lost aboard the Titanic. Nothing but rough estimates
of the company’s losses through the wreck were given out.
LOSS TO THE CARPATHIA
The loss to the Carpathia, too, was considerable. It is, of course, the
habit of all good steamship lines to go out of their way and cheerfully
submit to financial loss when it comes to succoring the distressed or the
imperiled at sea. Therefore, the Cunard line in extending the courtesies
of the sea to the survivors of the Titanic asked for nothing more than the
mere acknowledgment of the little act of kindness. The return of the
Carpathia cost the line close to $10,000.
She was delayed on her way to the Mediterranean at least ten days and was
obliged to coal and provision again, as the extra 800 odd passengers she
was carrying reduced her large allowance for her long voyage to the
Mediterranean and the Adriatic very much.
CHAPTER XXIV. OPINIONS OF EXPERTS
CAPTAIN E. K. RODEN, LEWIS NIXON, GENERAL GREELY AND ROBERT H. KIRK POINT
OUT LESSONS TAUGHT BY TITANIC DISASTER AND NEEDED CHANGES IN CONSTRUCTION
THE tremendous loss of life necessarily aroused a discussion as to the
cause of the disaster, and the prevailing opinion seemed to be that the
present tendency in shipbuilding was to sacrifice safety to luxury.
Captain Roden, a well-known Swedish navigator, had written an article
maintaining this theory in the Navy, a monthly service magazine, in
November, 1910. With seeming prophetic insight he had mentioned the
Titanic by name and portrayed some of the dangers to which shipbuilding
for luxury is leading.
He pointed out that the new steamships, the Olympic and Titanic, would be
the finest vessels afloat, no expense being spared to attain every
conceivable comfort for which men or women of means could possibly ask—staterooms
with private shower-baths, a swimming pool large enough for diving, a
ballroom covering an entire upper deck, a gymnasium, elaborate cafes, a
sun deck representing a flower garden, and other luxuries.
After forcibly pointing out the provisions that should be made for the
protection of life, Captain Roden wrote in conclusion:
“If the men controlling passenger ships, from the ocean liner down to the
excursion barge, were equally disposed to equip their vessels with the
best safety appliances as they are to devise and adopt implements of
comfort and luxury, the advantage to themselves as well as to their
patrons would be plainly apparent.”
VIEW OF LEWIS NIXON
Lewis Nixon, the eminent naval architect and designer of the battleship
Oregon, contributed a very interesting comment. He said in part:
“Here was a vessel presumed, and I think rightly so, to be the perfection
of the naval architect’s art, yet sunk in a few hours by an accident
common to North Atlantic navigation.
THE UNSINKABLE SHIP
“An unsinkable ship is possible, but it would be of little use except for
flotation. It may be said that vessels cannot be built to withstand such
an accident.
“We might very greatly subdivide the forward compartments, where much
space is lost at best, making the forward end, while amply strong for
navigation purposes, of such construction that it would collapse and take
up some of the energy of impact; then tie this to very much stronger
sections farther aft. Many such plans will be proposed by those who do not
realize the momentum of a great vessel which will snap great cables like
ribbons, when the motion of the vessel is not perceptible to the eye.
“The proper plan is to avoid the accident, and if an accident is
unavoidable to minimize the loss of life and property.”
VIEW OF ROBERT H. KIRK
The Titanic disaster was discussed by Robert H. Kirk, who installed the
compartment doors in the ships of the United States Navy. Mr. Kirk’s
opinion follows:
“The Titanic’s disaster will cause endless speculation as to how similar
disasters may be avoided in the future.
BULKHEAD DOORS PROBABLY OPEN
“The Titanic had bulkheads, plenty of them, for the rules of the British
Board of Trade and of Lloyds are very specific and require enough
compartments to insure floating of the ship though several may be flooded.
She also had doors in the bulkheads, and probably plenty of them, for she
was enormous and needed easy access from one compartment to another. It
will probably never be known how FEW of these doors were closed
when she struck the iceberg, but the probability is that many were open,
for in the confusion attending such a crash the crews have a multitude of
duties to perform, and closing a door with water rushing through it is
more of a task than human muscle and bravery can accomplish.
“A Lloyds surveyor in testing one of these hand-operated doors started two
men on the main deck to close it. They worked four hours before they had
carried out his order. If all the doors on the ship had worked as badly as
this one, what would have happened in event of accident?”
MANIA FOR SPEED
General Adolphus W. Greely, U. S. A., noted American traveler and Arctic
explorer, vehemently denounced the sinking of the Titanic and the loss of
over 1600 souls as a terrible sacrifice to the American mania for speed.
He gave his opinion that the Titanic came to grief through an attempt on
the part of the steamship management to establish a new record by the
vessel on her maiden voyage.
The Titanic, General Greely declared, had absolutely no business above
Cape Race and north of Sable Island on the trip on which she went to her
doom. Choosing the northern route brought about the dire disaster, in his
mind, and it was the saving of three hours for the sake of a new record
that ended in the collision with the tragic victory for the ghostlike
monster out of the far north.
It was the opinion of General Greely, capable of judging after his many
trips in quest of the pole, that neither Captain Smith nor any of his
officers saw the giant iceberg which encompassed their ruin until they
were right upon it. Then, the ship was plunging ahead at such frightful
velocity that the Titanic was too close to avert striking the barrier
lined up across its path.
CHAPTER XXV. OTHER GREAT MARINE DISASTERS
DEADLY DANGER OF ICEBERGS—DOZENS OF SHIPS PERISH IN COLLISION—OTHER
DISASTERS
THE danger of collision with icebergs has always been one of the most
deadly that confront the mariner. Indeed, so well recognized is this peril
of the Newfoundland Banks, where the Labrador current in the early spring
and summer months floats southward its ghostly argosy of icy pinnacles
detached from the polar ice caps, that the government hydrographic offices
and the maritime exchanges spare no pains to collate and disseminate the
latest bulletins on the subject.
THE ARIZONA
A most remarkable case of an iceberg collision is that of the Guion Liner,
Arizona, in 1879. She was then the greyhound of the Atlantic, and the
largest ship afloat—5750 tons except the Great Eastern. Leaving New
York in November for Liverpool, with 509 souls aboard, she was coursing
across the Banks, with fair weather but dark, when, near midnight, about
250 miles east of St. John’s, she rammed a monster ice island at full
speed eighteen knots. Terrific was the impact.
The welcome word was passed along that the ship, though sorely stricken,
would still float until she could make harbor. The vast white terror had
lain across her course,
{illust. caption = THE SHAPE OF AN ICEBERG
Showing the bulk and formation under water and the consequent danger to
vessels even without actual contact with the visible part of the iceberg.}
stretching so far each way that, when described, it was too late to alter
the helm. Its giant shape filled the foreground, towering high above the
masts, grim and gaunt and ghastly, immovable as the adamantine buttresses
of a frowning seaboard, while the liner lurched and staggered like a
wounded thing in agony as her engines slowly drew her back from the
rampart against which she had flung herself.
She was headed for St. John’s at slow speed, so as not to strain the
bulkhead too much, and arrived there thirty-six hours later. That little
port—the crippled ship’s hospital—has seen many a strange
sight come in from the sea, but never a more astounding spectacle than
that which the Arizona presented the Sunday forenoon she entered there.
“Begob, captain!” said the pilot, as he swung himself over the rail. “I’ve
heard of carrying coals to Newcastle, but this is the first time I’ve seen
a steamer bringing a load of ice into St. John’s.”
They are a grim race, these sailors, and, the danger over, the captain’s
reply was: “We were lucky, my man, that we didn’t all go to the bottom in
an ice box.”
DOZENS OF SHIPS PERISH
But to the one wounded ship that survives collision with a berg, a dozen
perish. Presumably, when the shock comes, it loosens their bulkheads and
they fill and founder, or the crash may injure the boilers or engines,
which explode and tear out the sides, and the ship goes down like a
plummet. As long ago as 1841, the steamer President, with 120 people
aboard, crossing from New York to Liverpool in March, vanished from human
ken. In 1854, in the same month, the City of Glasgow left Liverpool for
Philadelphia with 480 souls, and was never again heard of. In February,
1856, the Pacific, from Liverpool for New York, carrying 185 persons,
passed away down to a sunless sea. In May, 1870, the City of Boston, from
that port for Liverpool, mustering 191 souls, met a similar fate. It has
always been thought that these ships were sunk by collision with icebergs
or floes. As shipping traffic has expanded, the losses have been more
frequent. In February, 1892, the Naronic, from Liverpool for New York; in
the same month in 1896, the State of Georgia, from Aberdeen for Boston; in
February, 1899, the Alleghany, from New York for Dover; and once more in
February, 1902, the Huronian, from Liverpool for St. John’s—all
disappeared without leaving a trace. Between February and May, the Grand
Banks are most infested with ice, and collision therewith is’ the most
likely explanation of the loss of these steamers, all well manned and in
splendid trim, and meeting only the storms which scores of other ships
have braved without a scathe.
TOLL OF THE SEA
Among the important marine disasters recorded since 1866 are the
following:
1866, Jan. 11.—Steamer London, on her way to Melbourne, foundered in
the Bay of Biscay; 220 lives lost.
1866, Oct. 3.—Steamer Evening Star, from New York to New Orleans,
foundered; about 250 lives lost.
1867, Oct. 29.—Royal Mail steamers Rhone and Wye and about fifty
other vessels driven ashore and wrecked at St Thomas, West Indies, by a
hurricane; about 1,000 lives lost.
1873, Jan. 22.—British steamer Northfleet sunk in collision off
Dungeness; 300 lives lost
1873, Nov. 23.—White Star liner Atlantic wrecked off Nova Scotia;
547 lives lost.
1873, Nov. 23.—French line Ville du Havre, from New York to Havre,
in collision with ship Locharn and sunk in sixteen minutes; 110 lives
lost.
1874, Dec. 24.—Emigrant vessel Cospatrick took fire and sank off
Auckland; 476 lives lost.
1875, May 7.—Hamburg Mail steamer Schiller wrecked in fog on Scilly
Islands; 200 lives lost.
1875, Nov. 4.—American steamer Pacific in collision thirty miles
southwest of Cape Flattery; 236 lives lost.
1878, March 24.—British training ship Eurydice, a frigate, foundered
near the Isle of Wight; 300 lives lost.
1878, Sept. 3.—British iron steamer Princess Alice sunk in the
Thames River; 700 lives lost.
1878, Dec. 18.—French steamer Byzantin sunk in collision in the
Dardanelles with the British steamer Rinaldo; 210 lives lost.
1879, Dec. 2.—Steamer Borussia sank off the coast of Spain; 174
lives lost.
1880, Jan. 31.—British trading ship Atlanta left Bermuda with 290
men and was never heard from.
1881, Aug. 30.—Steamer Teuton wrecked off the Cape of Good Hope; 200
lives lost.
1883, July 3.—Steamer Daphne turned turtle in the Clyde; 124 lives
lost.
1884, Jan. 18.—American steamer City of Columbus wrecked off Gay
Head Light, Massachusetts; 99 lived lost.
1884, July 23.—Spanish steamer Gijon and British steamer Lux in
collision off Finisterre; 150 lives lost.
1887, Jan. 29.—Steamer Kapunda in collision with bark Ada Melore off
coast of Brazil; 300 lives lost.
1887, Nov. 15.—British steamer Wah Young caught fire between Canton
and Hong Kong; 400 lives lost.
1888, Sept. 13.—Italian steamship Sud America and steamer La France
in collision near the Canary Islands; 89 lives lost.
1889, March 16.—United States warships Trenton, Vandalia and Nipsic
and German ships Adler and Eber wrecked on Samoan Islands; 147 lives lost.
1890, Jan. 2.—Steamer Persia wrecked on Corsica; 130 lives lost.
1890, Feb. 17.—British steamer Duburg wrecked in the China Sea; 400
lives lost.
1890, March 1.—British steamship Quetta foundered in Torres Straits;
124 lives lost.
1890, Dec. 27.—British steamer Shanghai burned in China Seas; 101
lives lost.
1891, March 17.—Anchor liner Utopia in collision with British
steamer Anson off Gibraltar and sunk; 574 lives lost.
1892, Jan. 13.—Steamer Namehow wrecked in China Sea; 414 lives lost.
1892, Oct. 28.—Anchor liner Romania, wrecked off Portugal; 113 lives
lost.
1893, Feb. 8.—Anchor liner Trinairia, wrecked off Spain; 115 lives
lost.
1894, June 25.—Steamer Norge, wrecked on Rockall Reef, in the North
Atlantic; nearly 600 lives lost.
1895, Jan. 30.—German steamer Elbe sunk in collision with British
steamer Crathie in North Sea; 335 lives lost.
1898, July 4.—French line steamer La Bourgogne in collision with
British sailing vessel Cromartyshire; 571 lives lost.
1898, Nov. 27.—American steamer Portland, wrecked off Cape Cod,
Mass.; 157 lives lost.
1901, April 1.—Turkish transport Aslam wrecked in the Red Sea; over
180 lives lost.
1902, July 21.—Steamer Primus sunk in collision with the steamer
Hansa on the Lower Elbe; 112 lives lost.
1903, June 7.—French steamer Libau sunk in collision with steamer
Insulerre near Marseilles; 150 lives lost.
1904, June 15. General Slocum, excursion steamboat, took fire going
through Hell Gate, East River; more than 1000 lives lost.
1906, Jan. 21.—Brazilian battleship Aquidaban sunk near Rio Janeiro
by an explosion of the powder magazines; 212 lives lost.
1906, Jan. 22.—American steamer Valencia lost off Cloose, Pacific
Coast; 140 lives lost.
1906, Aug. 4.—Italian emigrant ship Sirio struck a rock off Cape
Palos; 350 lives lost.
1906, Oct. 21.—Russian steamer Variag, on leaving Vladivostock,
struck by a torpedo and sunk; 140 lives lost.
1907, Feb. 12.—American steamer Larchmond sunk in collision off
Rhode Island coast; 131 lives lost.
1907, July 20.—American steamers Columbia and San Pedro collided on
the Californian coast; 100 lives lost.
1907, Nov. 26.—Turkish steamer Kaptain foundered in the North Sea;
110 lives lost.
1908, March 23.—Japanese steamer Mutsu Maru sunk in collision near
Hakodate; 300 lives lost.
1908, April 30.—Japanese training cruiser Matsu Shima sunk off the
Pescadores owing to an explosion; 200 lives lost.
1909, Jan. 24.—Collision between the Italian steamer Florida and the
White Star liner Republic, about 170 miles east of New York during a fog;
a large number of lives were saved by the arrival of the steamer Baltic,
which received the “C. Q. D.,” or distress signal sent up by wireless by
the Republic January 22. The Republic sank while being towed; 6 lives
lost.
1910, Feb. 9.—French line steamer General Chanzy off Minorca; 200
lives lost.
1911, Sept. 25.—French battleship Liberte sunk by explosion in
Toulon harbor; 223 lives lost.
CHAPTER XXVI. DEVELOPMENT OF SHIPBUILDING
EVOLUTION OF WATER TRAVEL—INCREASES IN SIZE OF VESSELS—IS
THERE ANY LIMIT?—ACHIEVEMENTS IN SPEED—TITANIC NOT THE LAST
WORD.
THE origin of travel on water dates back to a very early period in human
history, men beginning with the log, the inflated skin, the dug-out canoe,
and upwards through various methods of flotation; while the paddle, the
oar, and finally the sail served as means of propulsion. This was for
inland water travel, and many centuries passed before the navigation of
the sea was dreamed of by adventurous mariners.
The paintings and sculptures of early Egypt show us boats built of sawn
planks, regularly constructed and moved both by oars and sails. At a later
period we read of the Phoenicians, the most daring and enterprising of
ancient navigators, who braved the dangers of the open sea, and are said
by Herodotus to have circumnavigated Africa as early as 604 B. C. Starting
from the Red Sea, they followed the east coast, rounded the Cape, and
sailed north along the west coast to the Mediterranean, reaching Egypt
again in the third year of this enterprise.
The Carthaginians and Romans come next in the history of shipbuilding,
confining themselves chiefly to the Mediterranean, and using oars as the
principal means of propulsion. Their galleys ranged from one to five banks
of oars. The Roman vessels in the first Punic war were over 100 feet long
and had 300 rowers, while they carried 120 soldiers. They did not use
sails until about the beginning of the fourteenth century B. C.
Portugal was the first nation to engage in voyages of discovery, using
vessels of small size in these adventurous journeys. Spain, which soon
became her rival in this field, built larger ships and long held the lead.
Yet the ships with which Columbus made the discovery of America were of a
size and character in which few sailors of the present day would care to
venture far from land.
England was later in coming into the field of adventurous navigation,
being surpassed not only by the Portuguese and Spanish, but by the Dutch,
in ventures to far lands.
Europe long held the precedence in shipbuilding and enterprise in
navigation, but the shores of America had not long been settled before the
venturous colonists had ships upon the seas. The first of these was built
at the mouth of the Kennebec River in Maine. This was a staunch little
two-masted vessel, which was named the Virginia, supposed to have been
about sixty feet long and seventeen feet in beam. Next in time came the
Restless, built in 1614 or 1615 at New York, by Adrian Blok, a Dutch
captain whose ships had been burned while lying at Manhattan Island. This
vessel, thirty-eight feet long and of eleven feet beam, was employed for
several years in exploring the Atlantic coast.
With the advent of the nineteenth century a new ideal in naval
architecture arose, that of the ship moved by steam-power instead of
wind-power, and fitted to combat with the seas alike in storm and calm,
with little heed as to whether the wind was fair or foul. The steamship
appeared, and grew in size and power until such giants of the wave as the
Titanic and Olympic were set afloat. To the development of this modern
class of ships our attention must now be turned.
As the reckless cowboy of the West is fast becoming a thing of the past,
so is the daring seaman of fame and story. In his place is coming a class
of men miscalled sailors, who never reefed a sail or coiled a cable, who
do not know how to launch a life-boat or pull an oar, and in whose career
we meet the ridiculous episode of the life-boats of the Titanic, where
women were obliged to take the oars from their hands and row the boats.
Thus has the old-time hero of the waves been transformed into one fitted
to serve as a clown of the vaudeville stage.
The advent of steam navigation came early in the nineteenth century,
though interesting steps in this direction were taken earlier. No sooner
was the steam-engine developed than men began to speculate on it as a
moving power on sea and land. Early among these were several Americans,
Oliver Evans, one of the first to project steam railway travel, and James
Rumsey and John Fitch, steamboat inventors of early date. There were
several experimenters in Europe also, but the first to produce a practical
steamboat was Robert Fulton, a native of Pennsylvania, whose successful
boat; the Clermont, made its maiden trip up the Hudson in 1807. A crude
affair was the Clermont, with a top speed of about seven miles an hour;
but it was the dwarf from which the giant steamers of to-day have grown.
Boats of this type quickly made their way over the American rivers and
before 1820 regular lines of steamboats were running between England and
Ireland. In 1817 James Watt, the inventor of the practical steam-engine,
crossed in a steamer from England to Belgium. But these short voyages were
far surpassed by an American enterprise, that of the first ocean
steamship, the Savannah, which crossed the Atlantic from Savannah to
Liverpool in 1819.
Twelve years passed before this enterprise was repeated, the next steam
voyage being in 1831, when the Royal William crossed from Quebec to
England. She used coal for fuel, having utilized her entire hold to store
enough for the voyage. The Savannah had burned pitch-pine under her
engines, for in America wood was long used as fuel for steam-making
purposes. As regards this matter, the problem of fuel was of leading
importance, and it was seriously questioned if a ship could be built to
cross the Atlantic depending solely upon steam power. Steam-engines in
those days were not very economical, needing four or five times as much
fuel for the same power as the engines of recent date.
It was not until 1838 that the problem was solved. On April 23d of that
year a most significant event took place. Two steamships dropped anchor in
the harbor of New York, the Sirius and the Great Western. Both of these
had made the entire voyage under steam, the Sirius, in eighteen and a half
and the Great Western in fourteen and a half days, measuring from
Queenstown. The Sirius had taken on board 450 tons of coal, but all this
was burned by the time Sandy Hook was reached, and she had to burn her
spare spars and forty-three barrels of rosin to make her way up the bay.
The Great Western, on the contrary, had coal to spare.
Two innovations in shipbuilding were soon introduced. These were the
building of iron instead of wooden ships and the replacing of the paddle
wheel by the screw propeller. The screw-propeller was first successfully
introduced by the famous Swede, John Ericsson, in 1835. His propeller was
tried in a small vessel, forty-five feet long and eight wide, which was
driven at the rate of ten miles an hour, and towed a large packet ship at
fair speed. Ericsson, not being appreciated in England, came to America to
experiment. Other inventors were also at work in the same line.
Their experiments attracted the attention of Isambard Brunel, one of the
greatest engineers of the period, who was then engaged in building a large
paddle-wheel steamer, the Great Britain. Appreciating the new idea, he had
the engines of the new ship changed and a screw propeller introduced. This
ship, a great one for the time, 322 feet long and of 3443 tons, made her
first voyage from Liverpool to New York in 1845, her average speed being
12 1/4 knots an hour, the length of the voyage 14 days and 21 hours.
By the date named the crossing of the Atlantic by steamships had become a
common event. In 1840 the British and Royal Mail Steam Packet Company was
organized, its chief promoter being Samuel Cunard, of Halifax, Nova
Scotia, whose name has long been attached to this famous line.
The first fleet of the Cunard Line comprised four vessels, the Britannia,
Acadia, Caledonia and Columbia. The Unicorn, sent out by this company as a
pioneer, entered Boston harbor on June 2, 1840, being the first steamship
from Europe to reach that port. Regular trips began with the Britannia,
which left Liverpool on July 4, 1840. For a number of years later this
line enjoyed a practical monopoly of the steam carrying trade between
England and the United States. Then other companies came into the field,
chief among them being the Collins Line, started in 1849, and of short
duration, and the Inman Line, instituted in 1850.
We should say something here of the comforts and conveniences provided for
the passengers on these early lines. They differed strikingly from those
on the leviathans of recent travel and were little, if any, superior to
those on the packet ships, the active rivals at that date of the steamers.
Then there were none of the comfortable smoking rooms, well-filled
libraries, drawing rooms, electric lights, and other modern improvements.
The saloons and staterooms were in the extreme after part of the vessel,
but the stateroom of that day was little more than a closet, with two
berths, one above the other, and very little standing room between these
and the wall. By paying nearly double fare a passenger might secure a room
for himself, but the room given him did not compare well even with that of
small and unpretentious modern steamers.
Other ocean steamship companies gradually arose, some of which are still
in existence. But no especial change in ship-building was introduced until
1870, when the Oceanic Company, now known as the White Star Line, built
the Britannic and Germanic. These were the largest of its early ships.
They were 468 feet long and 35 feet wide, constituting a new type of
extreme length as compared with their width. In the first White Star ship,
the Oceanic, the improvements above mentioned were introduced, the saloons
and staterooms being brought as near as possible to the center of the
ship. All the principal lines built since that date have followed this
example, thus adding much to the comfort of the first-class passengers.
Speed and economy in power also became features of importance, the tubular
boiler and the compound engine being introduced. These have developed into
the cylindrical, multitubular boiler and the triple expansion engine, in
which a greater percentage of the power of the steam is utilized and four
or five times the work obtained from coal over that of the old system. The
side-wheel was continued in use in the older ships until this period, but
after 1870 it disappeared.
It has been said that the life of iron ships, barring disasters at sea, is
unlimited, that they cannot wear out. This statement has not been tested,
but the fact remains that the older passenger ships have gone out of
service and that steel has now taken the place of iron, as lighter and
more durable.
Something should also be said here of the steam turbine engine, recently
introduced in some of the greatest liners, and of proven value in several
particulars, an important one of these being the doing away with the
vibration, an inseparable accompaniment of the old style engines. The
Olympic and Titanic engines were a combination of the turbine and
reciprocating types. In regard to the driving power, one of the recent
introductions is that of the multiple propeller. The twin screw was first
applied in the City of New York, of the Inman line, and enabled her to
make in 1890 an average speed of a little over six days from New York to
Queenstown. The best record up to October, 1891, was that of the Teutonic,
of five days, sixteen hours, and thirty minutes. Triple-screw propellers
have since then been introduced in some of the greater ships, and the
record speed has been cut down to the four days and ten hours of the
Lusitania in 1908 and the four days, six hours and forty-one minutes of
the Mauretania in 1910.
The Titanic was not built especially for speed, but in every other way she
was the master product of the shipbuilders’ art. Progress through the
centuries has been steady, and perhaps the twentieth century will prepare
a vessel that will be unsinkable as well as magnificent. Until the fatal
accident the Titanic and Olympic were considered the last words on
ship-building; but much may still remain to be spoken.
CHAPTER XXVII. SAFETY AND LIFE-SAVING DEVICES
WIRELESS TELEGRAPHY—WATER-TIGHT BULKHEADS—SUBMARINE SIGNALS—LIFE-BOATS
AND RAFTS—NIXON’S PONTOON—LIFE-PRESERVERS AND BUOYS—ROCKETS
THE fact that there are any survivors of the Titanic left to tell the
story of the terrible catastrophe is only another of the hundreds of
instances on record of the value of wireless telegraphy in saving life on
shipboard. Without Marconi’s invention it is altogether probable that the
world would never have known of the nature of the Titanic’s fate, for it
is only barely within the realm of possibility that any of the Titanic’s
passengers’ poorly clad, without proper provisions of food and water, and
exposed in the open boats to the frigid weather, would have survived long
enough to have been picked up by a transatlantic liner in ignorance of the
accident to the Titanic.
Speaking (since the Titanic disaster) of the part which wireless
telegraphy has played in the salvation of distressed ships, Guglielmo
Marconi, the inventor of this wonderful science, has said:
“Fifteen years ago the curvature of the earth was looked upon as the one
great obstacle to wireless telegraphy. By various experiments in the Isle
of Wight and at St. John’s I finally succeeded in sending the letter S
2000 miles.
“We have since found that the fog and the dull skies in the vicinity of
England are exceptionally favorable for wireless telegraphy.”
Then the inventor told of wireless messages being transmitted 2500 miles
across the Abyssinian desert, and of preparation for similar achievements.
“The one necessary requirement for continued success is that governments
keep from being enveloped in political red tape,” said he.
“The fact that a message can be flashed across the wide expanse of ocean
in ten minutes has exceeded my fondest expectations. Some idea of the
progress made may be had by citing the fact that in eleven years the range
of wireless telegraphy has increased from 200 to 3000 miles.
“Not once has wireless telegraphy failed in calling and securing help on
the high seas. A recognition of this is shown in the attitude of the
United States Government in compelling all passenger-carrying vessels
entering our ports to be equipped with wireless apparatus.”
Of the Titanic tragedy, Marconi said:
“I know you will all understand when I say that I entertain a deep feeling
of gratitude because of the fact that wireless telegraphy has again
contributed to the saving of life.”
WATER-TIGHT BULKHEADS
One of the most essential factors in making ships safe is the construction
of proper bulkheads to divide a ship into water-tight compartments in case
of injury to her hull. Of the modern means of forming such compartments,
and of the complete and automatic devices for operating the watertight
doors which connect them, a full explanation has already been given in the
description of the Titanic’s physical features, to which the reader is
referred. A wise precaution usually taken in the case of twin and triple
screw ships is to arrange the bulkheads so that each engine is in a
separate compartment, as is also each boiler or bank of boilers and each
coal bunker.
SUBMARINE SIGNALS
Then there are submarine signals to tell of near-by vessels or shores.
This signal arrangement includes a small tank on either side of the
vessel, just below the water line. Within each is a microphone with wires
leading to the bridge. If the vessel is near any other or approaching
shore, the sounds; conveyed through the water from the distant object are
heard through the receiver of the microphone. These arrangements are
called the ship’s ears, and whether the sounds come from one side of the
vessel or the other, the officers can tell the location of the shore or
ship near by. If both ears record, the object is ahead.
LIFEBOATS AND RAFTS
The construction of life-boats adapts them for very rough weather. The
chief essentials, of course, are ease in launching, strength in
withstanding rough water and bumping when beached; also strength to
withstand striking against wreckage or a ship’s side; carrying capacity
and lightness. Those carried on board ship are lighter than those used in
life-saving service on shore. Safety is provided by air-tight tanks which
insure buoyancy in case the boat is filled with water. They have also
self-righting power in case of being overturned; likewise self-emptying
power. Life-boats are usually of the whaleboat type, with copper air-tight
tanks along the side beneath the thwarts, and in the ends.
Life-boats range from twenty-four to thirty feet in length and carry from
thirty to sixty persons. The rafts carry from twenty to forty persons. The
old-fashioned round bar davits can be got for $100 to $150 a set. The new
style davits, quick launchers in type, come as low as $400 a set.
According to some naval constructors, an ocean steamship can carry in
davits enough boats to take care of all the passengers and crew, it being
simply a question as to whether the steamship owners are willing to take
up that much deck room which otherwise would be used for lounging chairs
or for a promenade.
Nowadays all life-boats are equipped with air tanks to prevent sinking,
with the result that metal boats are as unsinkable as wooden ones. The
metal boats are considered in the United States Navy as superior to wooden
ones, for several reasons: They do not break or collapse; they do not, in
consequence of long storage on deck, open at the seams and thereby spring
a leak; and they are not eaten by bugs, as is the case with wooden boats.
Comparatively few of the transatlantic steamships have adopted metal
life-boats. Most of the boats are of wood, according to the official
United States Government record of inspection. The records show that a
considerable proportion of the entire number of so-called “life-boats”
carried by Atlantic Ocean liners are not actually life-boats at all, but
simply open boats, without air tanks or other special equipment or
construction.
{illust. caption = CHAMBERS COLLAPSIBLE LIFE RAFT}
Life-rafts are of several kinds. They are commonly used on large passenger
steamers where it is difficult to carry sufficient life-boats. In most
cases they consist of two or more hollow metal or inflated rubber floats
which support a wooden deck. The small rafts are supplied with life-lines
and oars, and the larger ones with life-lines only, or with life-lines and
sails.
The collapsible feature of the Chambers raft consists of canvas-covered
steel frames extending up twenty-five inches from the sides to prevent
passengers from being pitched off. When the rafts are not in use these
side frames are folded down on the raft.
The collapsible rafts are favored by the ship-owners because such boats
take up less room; they do not have to be carried in the davits, and they
can be stowed to any number required. Some of the German lines stack their
collapsible rafts one above another on deck.
NIXON’S PONTOON
Lewis Nixon, the well-known ship designer, suggests the construction of a
pontoon to be carried on the after end of the vessel and to be made of
sectional air-tight compartments. One compartment would accommodate the
wireless outfit. Another compartment would hold drinking water, and still
another would be filled with food.
The pontoon would follow the line of the ship and seem to be a part of it.
The means for releasing it before the sinking of the vessel present no
mechanical problem. It would be too large and too buoyant to be sucked
down with the wreck.
The pontoon would accommodate, not comfortably but safely, all those who
failed to find room in the life-boats.
It is Mr. Nixon’s plan to instal a gas engine in one of the compartments.
With this engine the wireless instrument would remain in commission and
direct the rescuers after the ship itself had gone down.
LIFE PRESERVERS AND BUOYS
Life-preservers are chiefly of the belt or jacket type, made to fit about
the body and rendered buoyant by slabs of cork sewed into the garment, or
by rubber-lined air-bags. The use of cork is usually considered
preferable, as the inflated articles are liable to injury, and jackets are
preferable to belts as they can be put on more quickly.
Life-buoys are of several types, but those most common are of the ring
type, varying in size from the small one designed to be thrown by hand to
the large hollow metal buoy capable of supporting several people. The
latter are usually carried by sea-going vessels and are fitted with lamps
which are automatically lighted when the buoy is dropped into the water.
ROCKETS
American ocean-going steamers are required to have some approved means of
firing lines to the shore. Cunningham rockets and the Hunt gun are largely
used. The inaccuracy of the rocket is of less importance when fired from a
ship than when fired from shore.
CHAPTER XXVIII. TIME FOR REFLECTION AND REFORMS
SPEED AND LUXURY OVEREMPHASIZED—SPACE NEEDED FOR LIFE-BOATS DEVOTED
TO SWIMMING POOLS AND SQUASH-COURTS—MANIA FOR SPEED RECORDS COMPELS
USE OF DANGEROUS ROUTES AND PREVENTS PROPER CAUTION IN FOGGY WEATHER—LIFE
MORE VALUABLE THAN LUXURY—SAFETY MORE IMPORTANT THAN SPEED—AN
AROUSED PUBLIC OPINION NECESSARY—INTERNATIONAL CONFERENCE
RECOMMENDED—ADEQUATE LIFE-SAVING EQUIPMENT SHOULD BE COMPULSORY—SPEED
REGULATIONS IN BAD WEATHER—COOPERATION IN ARRANGING SCHEDULES TO
KEEP VESSELS WITHIN REACH OF EACH OTHER—LEGAL REGULATIONS
IT is a long time since any modern vessel of importance has gone down
under Nature’s attack, and in general the floating city of steel laughs at
the wind and waves. She is not, however, proof against disaster. The
danger lies in her own power—in the tens of thousands of horse power
with which she may be driven into another ship or into an iceberg standing
cold and unyielding as a wall of granite. In view of this fact it is of
the utmost importance that present-day vessels should be thoroughly
provided with the most efficient life-saving devices. These would seem
more important than fireplaces, squash-courts and many other luxuries with
which the Titanic was provided. The comparatively few survivors of the
ill-fated Titanic were saved by the life-boats. The hundreds of others who
went down with the vessel perished because there were no life-boats to
carry them until rescue came.
SURVIVORS URGE REFORM
The survivors urge the need of reform. In a resolution drawn up after the
disaster they said:
“We feel it our duty to call the attention of the public to what we
consider the inadequate supply of life-saving appliances provided for the
modern passenger steamships and recommend that immediate steps be taken to
compel passenger steamers to carry sufficient boats to accommodate the
maximum number of people carried on board. The following facts were
observed and should be considered in this connection: The insufficiency of
life-boats, rafts, etc.; lack of trained seamen to man same (stokers,
stewards, etc., are not efficient boat handlers); not enough officers to
carry out emergency orders on the bridge and superintend the launching and
control of life-boats; the absence of search lights.
“The Board of Trade allows for entirely too many people in each boat to
permit the same to be properly handled. On the Titanic the boat deck was
about seventy-five feet from the water and consequently the passengers
were required to embark before lowering the boats, thus endangering the
operation and preventing the taking on of the maximum number the boats
would hold. Boats at all times should be properly equipped with
provisions, water, lamps, compasses, lights, etc. Life-saving boat drills
should be more frequent and thoroughly carried out and officers should be
armed at both drills. There should be greater reduction of speed in fog
and ice, as damage if collision actually occurs is liable to be less.
INTERNATIONAL CONFERENCE RECOMMENDED
“In conclusion we suggest that an international conference be called to
recommend the passage of identical laws providing for the safety of all at
sea, and we urge the United States Government to take the initiative as
soon as possible.”
That ocean liners take chances with their passengers, though known to the
well informed, is newly revealed and comes with a shock of surprise and
dismay to most people. If boats are unsinkable as well as fireproof there
is no need of any life-boats at all. But no such steamship has ever been
constructed.
That it is realized that life-boats may be necessary on the best and
newest steamships is proved by the fact that they carry them even beyond
the law’s requirements. But if life-boats for one-third of those on the
ship are necessary, life-boats for all on board are equally necessary. The
law of the United States requires this, but the law and trade regulations
of England do not, and these controlled the Titanic and caused the death
of over sixteen hundred people.
True, a steamship is rarely crowded to her capacity, and ordinarily
accommodations in life-boats for a full list would not be needed. But that
is no argument against maximum safety facilities, for when disaster comes
it comes unexpectedly, and it might come when every berth was occupied. So
there must be life-boats for use in every possible emergency. Places must
be found for them and methods for handling them promptly.
Suppose a vessel to be thus equipped, would safety be insured? In calm
weather such as the Titanic had, yes, for all that would be needed would
be to keep the small boats afloat until help came. The Titanic could have
saved everyone aboard. In heavy weather, no. As at present arranged, if a
vessel has a list, or, in non-nautical language, has tipped over on one
side, only the boats upon the lower side can be dropped, for they must be
swung clear of the vessel to be lowered from the davits.
So there is a problem which it is the duty of marine designers to solve.
They have heretofore turned their attention to the invention of some new
contrivance for comfort and luxury. Now let them grasp the far more
important question of taking every soul from a sinking ship. They can do
it, and while they are about it, it would be well to supplement life-boats
with other methods.
We like to think and to say that nothing is impossible in these days of
ceaseless and energetic progress. Certainly it is possible for the brains
of marine designers to find a better way for rescue work. Lewis Nixon,
ship-builder and designer for years, is sure that we can revolutionize
safety appliances. He has had a plan for a long time for the construction
of a considerable section of deck that could be detached and floated off
like an immense raft. He figures that such a deck-raft could be made to
carry the bulk of the passengers.
That may seem a bit chimerical to laymen, but Nixon is no layman. His
ideas are worthy of every consideration. Certain it is that something
radical must be done, and that the maritime nations must get together, not
only in the way of providing more life-saving facilities, but in agreeing
upon navigation routes and methods.
Captain William S. Sims, of the United States Navy, who is in a position
to know what he is talking about, has made some very pointed comments on
the subject. He says:
“The truth of the matter is that in case any large passenger steamship
sinks, by reason of collision or other fatal damage to her flotability,
more than half of her passengers are doomed to death, even in fair
weather, and in case there is a bit of a sea running none of the loaded
boats can long remain afloat, even if they succeed in getting safely away
from the side, and one more will be added to the long list of ‘the ships
that never return.’
“Most people accept this condition as one of the inevitable perils of the
sea, but I believe it can be shown that the terrible loss of life
occasioned by such disasters as overtook the Bourgogne and the Titanic and
many other ships can be avoided or at least greatly minimized. Moreover,
it can be shown that the steamship owners are fully aware of the danger to
their passengers; that the laws on the subject of life-saving appliances
are wholly inadequate; that the steamship companies comply with the law,
though they oppose any changes therein, and that they decline to adopt
improved appliances; because there is no public demand for them, the
demand being for high schedule speed and luxurious conditions of travel.
“In addition to installing efficient life-saving appliances, if the great
steamship lines should come to an agreement to fix a maximum speed for
their vessels of various classes and fix their dates and hours of steaming
so that they would cross the ocean in pairs within supporting distances of
each other, on routes clear of ice, all danger of ocean travel would
practically be eliminated.
“The shortest course between New York and the English Channel lies across
Nova Scotia and Newfoundland. Consequently the shortest water route is
over seas where navigation is dangerous by reason of fog and ice. It is a
notorious fact that the transatlantic steamships are not navigated with
due regard to safety; that they steam at practically full speed in the
densest fogs. But the companies cannot properly be blamed for this
practice, because if the ‘blue liners’ slow down in a fog or take a safe
route, clear of ice, the public will take passage on the ‘green liners,’
which take the shortest route, and keep up their schedule time; regardless
of the risks indicated.”
PROMPT REFORMS
The terrible sacrifice of the Titanic, however, is to have its fruit in
safety for the future. The official announcement is
{illust. caption = A diagrammatic map showing how…}
made by the International Mercantile Marine that all its ships will be
equipped with sufficient life-boats and rafts for every passenger and
every member of the crew, without regard to the regulations in this
country and England or Belgium. One of the German liners already had this
complement of life-boats, though the German marine as a whole is
sufficiently deficient at this point to induce the Reichstag to order an
investigation.
Prompt, immediate and gratifying reform marks this action of the
International Mercantile Marine. It is doubtless true that this precaution
ought to have been taken without waiting for a loss of life such as makes
all previous marine disasters seem trivial. But the public itself has been
inert. For thirty years, since Plimsoll’s day, every intelligent passenger
knew that every British vessel was deficient in life-boats, but neither
public opinion nor the public press took this matter up. There were no
questions in Parliament and no measures introduced in Congress. Even the
legislation by which the United States permitted English vessels reaching
American ports to avoid the legal requirements of American statute law
(which requires a seat in the life-boats for every passenger and every
member of the crew) attracted no public attention, and occasional
references to the subject by those better informed did nothing to awake
action.
But this is past. Those who died bravely without complaint and with
sacrificing regard for others did not lose their lives in vain. The safety
of all travelers for all times to come under every civilized flag is to be
greater through their sac-rifice. Under modern conditions life can be made
as safe at sea as on the land. It is heartrending to stop and think that
thirty-two more life-boats, costing only about $16,000, which could have
been stowed away without being noticed on the broad decks of the Titanic,
would have saved every man, woman and child on the steamer. There has
never been so great a disaster in the history of civilization due to the
neglect of so small an expenditure.
It would be idle to think that this was due simply to parsimony. It was
really due to the false and vicious notion that life at sea must be made
showy, sumptuous and magnificent. The absence of life-boats was not due to
their cost, but to the demand for a great promenade deck, with ample space
to look out on the sea with which a continuous row of life-boats would
have interfered, and to the general tendency to lavish money on the
luxuries of a voyage instead of first insuring its safety.
CHAPTER XXIX. THE SENATORIAL INVESTIGATION
PROMPT ACTION OF THE GOVERNMENT—SENATE COMMITTEE PROBES DISASTER AND
BRINGS OUT DETAILS—TESTIMONY OF ISMAY, OFFICERS, CREW, PASSENGERS
AND OTHER WITNESSES
PUBLIC sentiment with regard to the Titanic disaster was reflected in the
prompt action of the United States Government.
On April 17th the Senate, without a dissenting vote, ordered an
investigation of the wreck of the Titanic, with particular reference to
the inadequacy of life-saving boats and apparatus. The resolution also
directed inquiry into the use by the Titanic of the northern course “over
a route commonly regarded as dangerous from icebergs.”
Besides investigating the disaster, the committee was directed to look
into the feasibility of international agreements for the further
protection of ocean traffic.
The Senate Committee on Commerce, in whose charge the investigation was
placed, immediately appointed the following sub-committee to conduct the
gathering of evidence and the examination of witnesses:
Senator William Alden Smith of Michigan, chairman; Senator Francis
Newlands of Nevada, Senator Jonathan Bourne, Jr., of Oregon, Senator
George C. Perkins of California, Senator Theodore E. Burton of Ohio,
Senator Furnifold McL. Simmons of North Carolina and Senator Duncan U.
Fletcher of Florida.
The Senate Committee began its investigation in New York on Friday, April
19th, the morning after the arrival of the Carpathia.
Ismay, the first witness, came to the witness chair with a smile upon his
face. He was sworn and then told the committee that he made the voyage on
the Titanic only as a voluntary passenger. Nobody designated him to come
to see how the newly launched monster would behave on the initial trip. He
said that no money was spared in the construction, and as she was built on
commission there was no need for the builders to slight the work for their
own benefit. The accident had happened on Sunday night, April 14th.
“I was in bed and asleep,” he said. “The ship was not going at full speed,
as has been printed, because full speed would be from seventy-eight to
eighty revolutions, and we were making only seventy-five. After the impact
with the iceberg I dressed and went on deck. I asked the steward what the
matter was and he told me. Then I went to Captain Smith and asked him if
the ship was in danger and he told me he thought she was.”
Ismay said that he went on the bridge and remained there for some time and
then lent a hand in getting the life-boats ready. He helped to get the
women and children into the boats.
Ismay said that no other executive officer of the steamship company was on
board, which practically made him the sole master of the vessel the minute
it passed beyond the control of the captain and his fellow-officers. But
Ismay, seeming to scent the drift of the questions, said that he never
interfered in any way with the handling of the ship.
Ismay was asked to give more particulars about his departure from the
ship. He said:
“The boat was ready to be lowered away and the officer called out if there
were any more women or children to go or any more passengers on deck, but
there was none, and I got on board.”
CAPTAIN ROSTRON’S TESTIMONY
Captain Rostron, of the Carpathia, followed Mr. Ismay. He said the first
message received from the Titanic was that she was in immediate danger. “I
gave the order to turn the ship around as soon as the Titanic had given
her position. I set a course to pick up the Titanic, which was fifty-eight
miles west of my position. I sent for the chief engineer, told him to put
on another watch of stokers and make all speed for the Titanic. I told the
first officer to stop all deck work, get out the life-boats and be ready
for any emergency. The chief steward and doctors of the Carpathia I called
to my office and instructed as to their duties. The English doctor was
assigned to the first class dining room, the Italian doctor to the second
class dining room, the Hungarian doctor to the third class dining room.
They were instructed to be ready with all supplies necessary for any
emergency.”
{illust. caption = DIAGRAM SHOWING THE PROXIMITY OF OTHER STEAMSHIPS TO
THE TITANIC ON NIGHT OF DISASTER.}
The captain told in detail of the arrangements made to prepare the
life-boats and the ship for the receipt of the survivors.
WEEPS AS HE TELLS STORY
Then with tears filling his eyes, Captain Rostron said he called the
purser. “I told him,” said Captain Rostron, “I wanted to hold a service of
prayer—thanksgiving for the living and a funeral service for the
dead. I went to Mr. Ismay. He told me to take full charge. An Episcopal
clergyman was found among the passengers and he conducted the services.”
TITANIC WAS A “LIFE-BOAT.”
Captain Rostron said that the Carpathia had twenty lifeboats of her own,
in accordance with the British regulations.
“Wouldn’t that indicate that the regulations are out of date, your ship
being much smaller than the Titanic, which also carried twenty
life-boats?” Senator Smith asked.
“No. The Titanic was supposed to be a life-boat herself.”
WIRELESS FAILED
Why so few messages came from the Carpathia was gone into. Captain Rostron
declared the first messages, all substantially the same, were sent to the
White Star Line, the Cunard Line and the Associated Press. Then the first
and second cabin passenger lists were sent, when the wireless failed.
Senator Smith said some complaint had been heard that the Carpathia had
not answered President Taft’s inquiry for Major Butt. Captain Rostron
declared a reply was sent, “Not on board.”
Captain Rostron declared he issued orders for no messages to be sent
except upon orders from him, and for official business to go first, then
private messages from the Titanic survivors in order of filing.
Absolutely no censorship was exercised, he said. The wire-less continued
working all the way in, the Marconi operator being constantly at the key.
Guglielmo Marconi, the wireless inventor, was the next witness.
Marconi said he was chairman of the British Marconi Company. Under
instructions of the company, he said, operators must take their orders
from the captain of the ship on which they are employed.
“Do the regulations prescribe whether one or two operators should be
aboard the ocean vessels?”
“Yes, on ships like the late Titanic and Olympic two are carried,” said
Marconi. “The Carpathia, a smaller boat, carries one. The Carpathia’s
wireless apparatus is a short-distance equipment.”
TITANIC WELL EQUIPPED
“Do you consider that the Titanic was equipped with the latest improved
wireless apparatus?”
“Yes; I should say that it had the very best.”
“Did you hear the captain of the Carpathia say, in his testimony, that
they caught this distress message from the Titanic almost providentally?”
asked Senator Smith.
“Yes, I did. It was absolutely providential.”
“Is there any signal for the operator if he is not at his post?'{‘}
“I think there is none,” said Marconi.
“Ought it not be incumbent upon ships to have an operator always at the
key?”
“Yes; but ship-owners don’t like to carry two operators when they can get
along with one. The smaller boat owners do not like the expense of two
operators.”
SECOND OFFICER TESTIFIES
Charles Herbert Lightoller, second officer of the Titanic, followed
Marconi on the stand. Mr. Lightoller said he understood the maximum speed
of the Titanic, as shown by its trial tests, to have been twenty-two and a
half to twenty-three knots. Senator Smith asked if the rule requiring
life-saving apparatus to be in each room for each passenger was complied
with.
“Everything was complete,” said Lightoller. “Sixteen life-boats, of which
four were collapsible, were on the Titanic,” he added. During the tests,
he said, Captain Clark, of the British Board of Trade, was aboard the
Titanic to inspect its life-saving equipment.
“How thorough are these captains of the Board of Trade in inspecting
ships?” asked Senator Smith.
“Captain Clark is so thorough that we called him a nuisance.”
TITANIC KILLED RAPIDLY
After testifying to the circumstances under which the life-boats were
filled and lowered, Lightoller continued. “The boat’s deck was only ten
feet from the water when I lowered the sixth boat. When we lowered the
first, the distance to the water was seventy feet.”
“If the same course was pursued on the starboard side as you pursued on
the port, in filling boats, how do you account for so many members of the
crew being saved?” asked Chairman Smith.
“I have inquired especially and have found that for every six persons
picked up, five were either firemen or stewards.”
COTTAM TELLS HIS STORY
Thomas Cottam, of Liverpool, the Marconi operator on the Carpathia, was
the next witness.
Cottam said that he was about ready to retire Sunday night, having
partially removed his clothes, and was waiting for a reply to a message to
the Parisian when he heard Cape Cod trying to call the Titanic. Cottam
called the Titanic operator to inform him of the fact, and received the
reply. ‘Come at once; this is a distress message. C. Q. D.’ ”
“What did you do then?”
“I confirmed the distress message by asking the Titanic if I should report
the distress message to the captain of the Carpathia.”
“How much time elapsed after you received the Titanic’s distress message
before you reported it to Captain Rostron?”
“About a couple of minutes,” Cottam answered.
COTTAM RECALLED
When the committee resumed the investigation on April 20th, Cottam was
recalled to the stand.
Senator Smith asked the witness if he had received any messages from the
time the Carpathia left the scene of the disaster until it reached New
York. The purpose of this question was to discover whether any official
had sought to keep back the news of the disaster.
“No, sir,” answered Cottam. “I reported the entire matter myself to the
steamship Baltic at 10.30 o’clock Monday morning. I told her we had been
to the wreck and had picked up as many of the passengers as we could.”
Cottam denied that he had sent any message that all passengers had been
saved, or anything on which such a report could be based.
Cottam said he was at work Monday and until Wednesday. He repeated his
testimony of the previous day and said he had been without sleep
throughout Sunday, Monday, Tuesday and until late Wednesday afternoon when
he had been relieved by Bride.
“Did you or Bride send any message declaring that the Titanic was being
towed into Halifax?”
“No, sir,” said the witness, with emphasis.
MARCONI EXPLAINS
In an effort to determine whether the signal “C. Q. D.” might not have
been misunderstood by passing ships, Senator Smith called upon Mr.
Marconi.
“The ‘C. Q.,'” said Marconi, “is an international signal which meant that
all stations should cease sending except the one using the call. The ‘D.’
was added to indicate danger. The call, however, now has been superseded
by the universal call, ‘S. O. S.'”
BRIDE ON THE STAND
Harold S. Bride, the sole surviving operator of the Titanic, was then
called.
Bride said he knew the Frankfurt was nearer than the Carpathia when he
called for assistance, but that he ceased his efforts to communicate with
the former because her operator persisted in asking, “What is the matter?”
despite Bride’s message that the ship was in distress.
Time after time Senator Smith asked in varying forms why the Titanic did
not explain its condition to the Frankfurt.
“Any operator receiving ‘C. Q. D.’ and the position of the ship, if he is
on the job,” said Bride, “would tell the captain at once.”
Marconi again testified to the distress signals, and said that the
Frankfurt was equipped with Marconi wireless. He said that the receipt of
the signal “C. Q. D.” by the Frankfurt’s operator should have been
all-sufficient to send the Frankfurt to the immediate rescue.
ALL APPEALS RECEIVED
Under questioning by Senator Smith, Bride said that undoubtedly the
Frankfurt received all of the urgent appeals for help sent subsequently to
the Carpathia.
INVESTIGATION CARRIED TO WASHINGTON
The first witness when the investigation was resumed in Washington on
April 22d was P. A. S. Franklin, vice-president of the International
Mercantile Marine Company.
Franklin testified that he had had no communication with Captain Smith
during the Titanic’s voyage, nor with Ismay, except one cable from
Southampton.
Senator Smith then showed Mr. Franklin the telegram received by
Congressman Hughes, of West Virginia, from the White Star Line, dated New
York, April 15th, and addressed to J. A. Hughes, Huntington, W. Va., as
follows:
“Titanic proceeding to Halifax. Passengers probably land on Wednesday. All
safe.
TELEGRAM A MYSTERY
“I ask you,” continued the senator, “whether you know about the sending of
that telegram, by whom it was authorized and from whom it was sent?”
“I do not, sir,” said Franklin. “Since it was mentioned at the Waldorf
Saturday we have had the entire passenger staff examined and we cannot
find out.”
Asked when he first knew that the Titanic had sunk, Franklin said he first
knew it about 6.27 P.M., Monday.
Mr. Franklin then produced a thick package of telegrams which he had
received in relation to the disaster.
“About twenty minutes of two on Monday morning,” said he, “I was awakened
by a telephone bell, and was called by a reporter for some paper who
informed me that the Titanic had met with an accident and was sinking. I
asked him where he got the information. He told me that it had come by
wireless from the steamship Virginian, which had been appealed to by the
Titanic for aid.”
Mr. Franklin said he called up the White Star docks, but they had no
information, and he then appealed to the Associated Press, and there was
read to him a dispatch from Cape Race advising him of the accident.
“I asked the Associated Press,” said Mr. Franklin, “not to send out the
dispatch until we had more detailed information, in order to avoid causing
unnecessary alarm. I was told, however, that the story already had been
sent.”
The reassuring statements sent out by the line in the early hours of the
disaster next were made the subject of inquiry.
“Tell the committee on what you based those statements,” directed Senator
Smith.
“We based them on reports and rumors received at Cape Race by individuals
and by the newspapers. They were rumors, and we could not place our finger
on anything authentic.”
FIRST DEFINITE NEWS
“At 6.20 or 6.30 Monday evening,” Mr. Franklin continued, “a message was
received telling the fateful news that the Carpathia reached the Titanic
and found nothing but boats and wreckage; that the Titanic had foundered
at 2.20 A.M. in 41.16 north, 50.14 west; that the Carpathia picked up all
the boats and had on board about 675 Titanic survivors—passengers
and crew.
“It was such a terrible shock that it took me several moments to think
what to do. Then I went downstairs to the reporters, I began to read the
message, holding it high in my hand. I had read only to the second line,
which said that the Titanic had sunk, when there was not a reporter left—they
were so anxious to get to the telephones.
SAFETY EQUIPMENT
“The Titanic’s equipment was in excess of the law,” said the witness. “It
carried its clearance in the shape of a certificate from the British Board
of Trade. I might say that no vessel can leave a British port without a
certificate that it is equipped to care for human lives aboard in case of
accident. It is the law.”
“Do you know of anyone, any officer or man or any official, whom you deem
could be held responsible for the accident and its attendant loss of
life?”
“Positively not. No one thought such an accident could happen. It was
undreamed of. I think it would be absurd to try to hold some individual
responsible. Every precaution was taken; that the precautions were of no
avail is a source of the deepest sorrow. But the accident was
unavoidable.”
FOURTH OFFICER TESTIFIES
J. B. Boxhall, the fourth officer, was then questioned.
“Were there any drills or any inspection before the Titanic sailed?” he
was asked.
“Both,” said the witness. “The men were mustered and the life-boats
lowered in the presence of the inspectors from the Board of Trade.”
“How many boats were lowered?”
“Just two, sir.”
“One on each side of the ship?”
“No, sir. They were both on the same side. We were lying in dock.”
The witness said he did not know whether the lowering tackle ran free or
not on that occasion.
“In lowering the life-boats at the test, did the gear work
satisfactorily?”
“So far as I know.”
In lowering a life-boat, he said, first the boat has to be cleared, chocks
knocked down and the boat hangs free. Then the davits are screwed out to
the ship’s side and the boat lowered.
At the time of the tests all officers of the Titanic were present.
Boxhall said that under the weather conditions experienced at the time of
the collision the life-boats were supposed to carry sixty-five persons.
Under the regulations of the British Board of Trade, in addition to the
oars, there were in the boats water breakers, water dippers, bread,
bailers, mast and sail and lights and a supply of oil. All of these
supplies, said Boxhall, were in the boats when the Titanic left Belfast.
He could not say whether they were in when the vessel left Southampton.
“Now,” repeated Senator Smith, “suppose the weather was clear and the sky
unruffled, as it was at the time of the disaster, how many would the boat
hold?”
“Really, I don’t know. It would depend largely upon the people who were to
enter. If they did as they were told I believe each boat could accommodate
sixty-five persons.”
Boxhall testified to the sobriety and good habits of his superior and
brother officers.
NO TRACE OF DAMAGE INSIDE
Boxhall said he went down to the steerage, inspected all the decks in the
vicinity of where the ship had struck, found no traces of any damage and
went directly to the bridge and so reported.
CARPENTER FOUND LEAKS
“The captain ordered me to send a carpenter to sound the ship, but I found
a carpenter coming up with the announcement that the ship was taking
water. In the mail room I found mail sacks floating about while the clerks
were at work. I went to the bridge and reported, and the captain ordered
the life-boats to be made ready.”
Boxhall testified that at Captain Smith’s orders he took word of the
ship’s position to the wireless operators.
“What position was that?”
“Forty-one forty-six north, fifty fourteen west.”
“Was that the last position taken?”
“Yes, the Titanic stood not far from there when she sank.”
After that Boxhall went back to the life-boats, where there were many men
and women. He said they had been provided with life-belts.
{illust. caption = THE EFFECTS OF STRIKING AN ICEBERG
(1) Shows normal….}
DISTRESS ROCKETS FIRED
“After that I was on the bridge most of the time sending out distress
signals, trying to attract the attention of boats ahead,” he said. “I sent
up distress rockets until I left the ship, to try to attract the attention
of a ship directly ahead. I had seen her lights. She seemed to be meeting
us and was not far away. She got close enough, so she seemed to me, to
read our Morse electric signals.”
“Suppose you had a powerful search light on the Titanic, could you not
have thrown a beam on the vessel and have compelled her attention?”
“We might.”
H. J. Pitman, the third officer of the ship, was the first witness on
April 23d. By a series of searching questions Senator Fletcher brought out
the fact that when the collision occurred the Titanic was going at the
greatest speed attained during the trip, even though the ship was entering
the Grand Banks and had been advised of the presence of ice.
Frederick Fleet, a sailor and lookout man on the Titanic, followed Pitman
on the stand. Fleet said he had had five or six years’ experience at sea
and was lookout on the Oceanic prior to going on the Titanic. He was in
the crow’s nest at the time of the collision.
Fleet stated that he had kept a sharp lookout for ice, and testified to
seeing the iceberg and signaling the bridge.
Fleet acknowledged that if he had been aided in his observations by a good
glass he probably could have spied the berg into which the ship crashed in
time to have warned the bridge to avoid it. Major Arthur Peuchen, of
Toronto, a passenger who followed Fleet on the stand, also testified to
the much greater sweep of vision afforded by binoculars and, as a
yachtsman, said he believed the presence of the iceberg might have been
detected in time to escape the collision had the lookout men been so
equipped.
HAD ASKED FOR BINOCULARS
It was made to appear that the blame for being without glasses did not
rest with the lookout men. Fleet said they had asked for them at
Southampton and were told there were none for them. One glass, in a pinch,
would have served in the crow’s nest.
The testimony before the committee on April 24th showed that the big
steamship was on the verge of a field of ice twenty or thirty miles long,
if she had not actually entered it, when the accident occurred.
The committee tried to discover whether it would add to human safety if
the ships were fitted with search lights so that at night objects could be
seen at a greater distance. The testimony so far along this line had been
conflicting. Some of the witnesses thought it would be no harm to try it,
but they were all skeptical as to its value, as an iceberg would not be
especially distinguishable because its bulk is mostly below the surface.
One of the witnesses said that much dependence is not placed upon the
lookout, and that those lookouts who used binoculars constantly found them
detrimental.
Harold G. Lowe, fifth officer of the Titanic, told the committee his part
in the struggle of the survivors for life following the catastrophe. The
details of this struggle have have already been told in a previous
chapter.
AUTHORIZED TO SELL STORY
In great detail Guglielmo Marconi, on April 25th, explained the operations
of his system and told how he had authorized Operator Bride of the
Titanic, and Operator Cottam, of the Carpathia, to sell their stories of
the disaster after they came ashore.
In allowing the operator’s to sell their stories, said Mr. Marconi, there
was no question of suppressing or monopolizing the news. He had done
everything he could, he said, to have the country informed as quickly as
possible of the details of the disaster. That was why he was particularly
glad for the narratives of such important witnesses as the operators to
receive publication, regardless of the papers that published them.
He repeated the testimony of Cottam that every effort had been made to get
legitimate dispatches ashore. The cruiser Chester, he said, had been
answered as fully as possible, though it was not known at the time that
its queries came from the President of the United States. The Salem, he
said, had never got in touch with the Carpathia operator.
Senator Newlands suggested that the telegrams, some signed by the name of
Mr. Sammis and some with the name of Marconi, directing Cottam to “keep
his mouth shut” and hold out for four figures on his story, was sent only
as the Carpathia was entering New York harbor, when there was no longer
need for sending official or private messages from the rescuing ship.
There had been an impression before, he said, that the messages had been
sent to Cottam when the ship was far at sea, when they might have meant
that he was to hold back messages relieving the anxiety of those on shore.
SAW DISTRESS ROCKETS
Ernest Gill, a donkey engineman on the steamship Californian, was the
first witness on April 26th. He said that Captain Stanley Lord, of the
Californian, refused later to go to the aid of the Titanic, the rockets
from which could be plainly seen. He says the captain was apprised of
these signals, but made no effort to get up steam and go to the rescue.
The Californian was drifting with the floe. So indignant did he become,
said Gill, that he endeavored to recruit a committee of protest from among
the crew, but the men failed him.
Captain Lord entered a sweeping denial of Gill’s accusations and read from
the Californian’s log to support his contention. Cyril Evans, the
Californian’s wireless operator, however, told of hearing much talk among
the crew, who were critical of the captain’s course. Gill, he said, told
him he expected to get $500 for his story when the ship reached Boston.
Evans told of having warned the Titanic only a brief time before the great
vessel crashed into the berg that the sea was crowded with ice. The
Titanic’s operators, he said, at the time were working with the wireless
station at Cape Race, and they told him to “shut up” and keep out. Within
a half hour the pride of the sea was crumpled and sinking.
Members of the committee who examined individually the British sailors and
stewards of the Titanic’s crew prepared a report of their investigations
for the full committee. This testimony was ordered to be incorporated in
the record of the hearings.
Most of this testimony was but a repetition of experiences similar to the
many already related by those who got away in the life-boats.
On April 27th Captain James H. Moore, of the steamship Mount Temple, who
hurried to the Titanic in response to wireless calls for help, told of the
great stretch of field ice which held him off. Within his view from the
bridge he discerned, he said, a strange steamship, probably a “tramp,” and
a schooner which was making her way out of the ice. The lights of this
schooner, he thought, probably were those seen by the anxious survivors of
the Titanic and which they were frantically trying to reach.
WOMEN AT HEARING WEEP
Steward Crawford also related a thrilling story in regard to loading the
life-boats with women first. He told of several instances that came under
his observation of women throwing their arms around their husbands and
crying out that they would not leave the ship without them. The pathetic
recital caused several women at the hearing to weep, and all within
earshot of the steward’s story were thrilled.
ANDREWS WAS BRAVE
Stories that Mr. Andrews, the designer of the ship, had tried to disguise
the extent of danger were absolutely denied by Henry Samuel Etches, his
bedroom steward, who told the committee how Mr. Andrews urged women back
to their cabins to dress more warmly and to put on life-belts.
The steward, whose duty it was to serve Major Butt and his party, told how
he did not see the Major at dinner the evening of the disaster as he was
dining with a private party in the restaurant. William Burke, a first
class steward, told of serving dinner at 7.15 o’clock to Mr. and Mrs.
Straus, and later Mrs. Straus’ refusal to leave her husband was again told
to the committee. A bedroom steward told of a quiet conversation with
Benjamin Guggenheim, Senator Guggenheim’s brother, after the accident and
shortly before the Titanic settled in the plunge that was to be his death.
On April 29th Marconi produced copies of several messages which passed
between the Marconi office and the Carpathia in an effort to get definite
information of the wreck and the survivors.
Marconi and F. M. Sammis, chief engineer of the American Marconi Company,
both acknowledged that a mistake had been made in sending messages to
Bride and Cottam on board the Carpathia not to give out any news until
they had seen Marconi and Sammis.
The senatorial committee investigating the Titanic disaster has served
several good purposes. It has officially established the fact that all
nations are censurable for insufficient, antiquated safety regulations on
ocean vessels, and it has emphasized the imperative necessity for united
action among all maritime countries to revise these laws and adapt them to
changed conditions.
The committee reported its findings as follows:
GENERAL CONCLUSIONS
No particular person is named as being responsible, though attention is
called to the fact that on the day of the disaster three distinct warnings
of ice were sent to Captain Smith. J. Bruce Ismay, managing director of
the White Star Line, is not held responsible for the ship’s high speed. In
fact, he is barely mentioned in the report.
Ice positions, so definitely reported to the Titanic just preceding the
accident, located ice on both sides of the lane in which she was
traveling. No discussion took place among the officers, no conference was
called to consider these warnings, no heed was given to them. The speed
was not relaxed, the lookout was not increased.
The supposedly water-tight compartments of the Titanic were not
water-tight, because of the non-water-tight condition of the decks where
the transverse bulkheads ended.
The steamship Californian, controlled by the same concern as the Titanic,
was nearer the sinking steamship than the nineteen miles reported by her
captain, and her officers and crew saw the distress signals of the Titanic
and failed to respond to them in accordance with the dictates of humanity,
international usage and the requirements of law. Had assistance been
promptly proffered the Californian might have had the proud distinction of
rescuing the lives of the passengers and crew of the Titanic.
The mysterious lights on an unknown ship, seen by the passengers on the
Titanic, undoubtedly were on the Californian, less than nineteen miles
away.
Eight ships, all equipped with wireless, were in the vicinity of the
Titanic, the Olympic farthest away—512 miles.
The full capacity of the Titanic’s life-boats was not utilized, because,
while only 705 persons were saved, the ship’s boats could have carried
1176.
No general alarm was sounded, no whistle blown and no systematic warning
was given to the endangered passengers, and it was fifteen or twenty
minutes after the collision before Captain Smith ordered the Titanic’s
wireless operator to send out a distress message.
The Titanic’s crew were only meagerly acquainted with their positions and
duties in an accident and only one drill was held before the maiden trip.
Many of the crew joined the ship only a few hours before she sailed and
were in ignorance of their positions until the following Friday.
Many more lives could have been saved had the survivors been concentrated
in a few life-boats, and had the boats thus released returned to the wreck
for others.
The first official information of the disaster was the message from
Captain Haddock, of the Olympic, received by the White Star Line at 6.16
P. M., Monday, April 15. In the face of this information a message
reporting the Titanic being towed to Halifax was sent to Representative J.
A. Hughes, at Huntington, W. Va., at 7.51 P. M. that day. The message was
delivered to the Western Union office in the same building as the White
Star Line offices.
“Whoever sent this message,” says the report, “under the circumstances, is
guilty of the most reprehensible conduct.”
The wireless operator on the Carpathia was not duly vigilant in handling
his messages after the accident.
The practice of allowing wireless operators to sell their stories should
be stopped.
RECOMMENDATIONS.
It is recommended that all ships carrying more than 100 passengers shall
have two searchlights.
That a revision be made of steamship inspection laws of foreign countries
to conform to the standard proposed in the United States.
That every ship be required to carry sufficient life-boats for all
passengers and crew.
That the use of wireless be regulated to prevent interference by amateurs,
and that all ships have a wireless operator on constant duty.
Detailed recommendations are made as to water-tight bulkhead construction
on ocean-going ships. Bulkheads should be so spaced that any two adjacent
compartments of a ship might be flooded without sinking.
Transverse bulkheads forward and abaft the machinery should be continued
watertight to the uppermost continuous structural deck, and this deck
should be fitted water-tight.