Voices from the Titanic (15 page)

At 10 p.m. Sunday while my wife and I went out for a stroll along the
Titanic
's promenade deck, we found the air icy cold – so cold, in fact, that we were driven inside although we had on heavy wraps. This change of temperature had occurred in the previous two hours. We went to bed and were awakened about 11.40 by a jar which gave me the impression that a blow on the side had moved the entire vessel laterally to a considerable angle. With only my overcoat and slippers, I went through the companionway, but, to my surprise, found no one seriously considering the shock.

Men in evening clothes stood about chatting and laughing, and when an officer – I did not know his name – hurried by I asked, ‘What is the trouble?'

He replied: ‘Something is wrong with the propeller; nothing serious.'

I went back to my state room, where my wife had already arisen to dress herself, and I dissuaded her from dressing herself or our four-year-old son.

A little while later, still feeling nervous, I went up to the promenade deck and there saw a great mass of ice close to the starboard rail. Going back to my cabin again, I met my bedroom steward, with whom I had crossed the ocean before, who whispered to me that, ‘Word has come from down below for everyone to put on life preservers.'

I rushed back to my state room and told my wife the news and made her come up on deck with the baby, even half clothed. The boats on the starboard side were then suspended from the davits, but no passengers wanted to get in.

It was a drop of fifty feet to the surface of the sea and apparently everybody considered that they were safer on the ‘unsinkable'
Titanic
than in a small boat whose only propelling power was four oars. The first boat was only half filled for the simple reason that no one would get aboard.

Personally, I waited for the lifeboat to become filled, and then, seeing there was plenty of room, I asked the officer at the rail why I also could not get in. His only reply was, ‘Women and children first,' and the half-filled boat sheered off.

Before the next boats were lowered passengers who had become excited were calmed by the utterances of the officers that the injury was trivial and that, in case it proved serious, at least four steamships had been summoned by wireless and would be on hand within an hour.

(
San Francisco Bulletin
, 20 April 1912)

When the boat collided with the berg, we were thrown from the bench on which we were sitting. The shock was accompanied by a grinding noise, which we took to be the result of an accident to the machinery that suddenly halted the ship.

I went on deck to see what had happened and saw several persons running to the forward part of the ship. I followed and found that the port side was strewn with particles of ice. Someone said we had struck an iceberg and that a huge hole had been torn in the port side below the waterline.

I obtained a good glimpse of the iceberg as it floated by. It was off some distance then, but in the clear night, I could see it rising out of the water like a great white spectre, towering above the funnels of the ship. To me it seemed that the iceberg was at least four or five times as large as the
Titanic
.

At that time there was no sign of panic. The passengers and crew seemed to feel assured that the collision was not serious and that there was no grave danger to the ship. I returned to the music room and resumed our card game. After a while some of the foreigners in the steerage became excited and the women began to weep, and before long there was a stream of them pouring out of the steerage dragging their luggage with them. They were driven out by the water which was rushing into the hold in a huge stream, in spite of the pumps which were working furiously.

In a little while longer, the nose of the boat began to dip forward. As the ship began to list, the excitement of the lower decks increased and there was a scramble for the lifeboats. Men and women, stricken with fright, huddled around the crew, shouting and crying and sending up prayers to heaven for aid.

I was on deck when the first boat was lowered away. The women and children were taken off first. An officer stood beside the lifeboats as they were being manned and, with a pistol in hand, threatened to kill the first man who got into a boat without orders.

The rule of ‘women first' was rigidly enforced. Two stewards hustled into a lifeboat that was being launched. They were commanded to get out by the officers and, on refusing to obey the command, were shot down and thrown into the sea. A Chinaman was also shot for the same cause. Afterwards, aboard the
Carpathia
, I saw six Chinamen who had escaped in the lifeboats, disguised as women.

(
Bureau County Republican
, 2 May 1912)

We were sitting on the
Titanic
's deck in the evening enjoying the crisp air and the starlit night. Old sailors told us the sea had never seemed so calm and glassy. About 9.30 the atmosphere took a sudden drop, which drove everybody inside their cabins. We must have been going at a terrific rate in the direction of the icebergs, for the air became so chilly in a few minutes that we found it impossible to keep warm even when we put wraps and blankets around us.

We had retired when there was a dull shaking of the
Titanic
, which was not so much like a shake as it was a slowing down of the massive craft. I noticed that our boat had come to a standstill and then we heard the orders of the captain and went on deck to see what it all meant. I never saw such composure and cool bravery in my life as the men of the first and second cabins displayed. Colonel Astor seemed to be the controlling figure. He, Major Butt, Mr Guggenheim, Mr Widener and Mr Thayer clustered in a group as if they were holding a quick consultation as to what steps should be taken next. Then Colonel Astor came forward with the cry, ‘Not a man until every woman and child is safe in the boats.'

Many of the women did not seem to want to leave the vessel. Mrs Astor clung to her husband, begging him to let her remain
on the
Titanic
with him. When he insisted that she save herself, she threw her arms around him and begged him with tears to permit her to share his fate. Colonel Astor picked her up bodily and carried her to a boat, which was the one just ahead of ours, and placed her in it.

I lingered with my brother and his wife, loath to leave them, although we all knew the ship was sinking and that the ocean would soon swallow up all that remained of the steamer. We both begged my brother to come with us, but he said: ‘No, I will remain with the others, no matter what happens.'

Then, when it was time to go, when the last boat was being lowered to the water line, we were hurried into it by my brother, who bade us goodbye and said calmly but with feeling: ‘Be brave; no matter what happens, be brave.'

I was in bed and was awakened by a slight bump. It would then have been about a quarter to twelve at night. I did not take very much heed of the noise at first, because I had been used to a ship's bumping before. In fact I thought that something or other had gone wrong in the engine room.

Presently I heard the night-watchman pass my door and I called out to him, ‘What's the matter?'

He replied: ‘Oh, we have only touched a bit of ice. I think it is all right. I don't think it is anything.'

It was three-quarters of an hour after I felt the ship bump that I got up and when I reached the deck the lifeboats had been ordered out. I was not in the least frightened; I was simply stunned.

Perfect order prevailed, and everybody seemed calm and collected. The passengers would not believe that we had struck
an iceberg, but I myself knew what had happened. The officers and crew behaved magnificently, as did also the dear old captain. Mr Ismay was on deck in his pyjamas and a coat, vainly endeavouring to get the passengers into the boats. He worked might and main all the time, and I did not think he actually realized that the ship was sinking.

(
Birkenhead News
, 4 May 1912)

I was standing right near by when Mrs Astor was helped into one of the boats. He asked the officer who was at the rail whether he might go also, and permission was refused. With the calmest smile in the world, Col. Astor said: ‘Goodbye, dearie,' and waved his hand to Mrs Astor. It was plain she did not realize that their parting was anything but momentary, but I'm sure he suspected it, for as though to conceal his emotion he hastily pulled out his cigarette case and started smoking. Then he leant over the rail, and as the boat Mrs Astor was in swung out and was lowered he cried again: ‘Goodbye, dearie, I'll join you later.'

I never saw the Colonel again, but a moment later my attention was caught by a Frenchman who approached one of the lowering boats with two beautiful little boys in his arms. An officer waved him back, and he replied:'Bless you, man, I don't want to go, but for God's sake take these boys. Their mother is waiting for them at home.'

So the boys were tossed into the boat and the Frenchman turned away, seemingly quite satisfied. Poor fellow, I did not see him on the
Carpathia
either.

(
New York World
, 19 April 1912)

When I reached the deck after the collision the crew were getting the boats ready to lower, and many of the women were running about looking for their husbands and children. The women were being placed in the boats, and two men took hold of me and almost pushed me into a boat. I did not appreciate the danger and I struggled until they released me. ‘Do not waste time. Let her go if she will not get in,' said an officer.

I hurried back to my cabin again and went from cabin to cabin looking for my friends, but could not find them. A little English girl about fifteen years old ran up to me and threw her arms about me. ‘I am all alone,' she sobbed. ‘Won't you let me go with you?'

I then began to realize the real danger and saw that all but two of the boats had been lowered. Some men called to us and we hurried to where they were loading a boat. All the women had been provided with life belts. As the men lifted us into the boat they smiled at us and told us to be brave.

I will never forget an incident that occurred just as we were about to be lowered into the water. I had just been lifted into the boat and was still standing when a foreigner rushed up to the side of the vessel and, holding out a bundle in his arms, cried with tears running down his face: ‘Please, kind lady, won't you save my little girl, my baby? For myself it is no difference, but please, please take the little one.' Of course, I took the child.

Jacques died like a hero. He was in the smoking room when the crash came and I was going to bed. I was hurled from my feet by the impact. I hardly found myself when Jacques came rushing into the state room. ‘The boat is going down! Get dressed at once,' he shouted.

When we reached the deck everything was in the wildest confusion. The screams of women and the shrill orders of the officers were drowned intermittently by the tremendous vibrations of the
Titanic
's deep bass fog horn. The behaviour of the men was magnificent. They stood back without murmuring and urged the women and children into the lifeboats. A few cowards tried to scramble into the boats, but they were quickly thrown back by the others. The only men who were saved were those who sneaked into the lifeboats or were picked up after the
Titanic
sunk.

I did not want to leave Jacques, but he assured me that there were boats enough for all and that he would be rescued later. ‘Hurry up, May – you're keeping the others waiting.' They were his last words as he lifted me into a lifeboat and kissed me goodbye. I was in one of the last lifeboats to leave the ship. We had not put out many minutes when the
Titanic
disappeared. I almost thought, as I saw her sink beneath the water, that I could see Jacques, standing where I had left him and waving at me.