Read Voices from the Titanic Online
Authors: Geoff Tibballs
First-class passenger
Daisy Minahan
, who lost her brother in the disaster, sent a sworn affidavit detailing her escape in lifeboat No. 14 commanded by Fifth Officer Lowe.
The crowd surging around the boats was getting unruly. Officers were yelling and cursing at men to stand back and let the women get into the boats. In going from one lifeboat to another we stumbled over huge piles of bread lying on the deck. When the lifeboat was filled there were no seamen to man it. The officer in command of No. 14 called for volunteers in the crowd who could row. Six men offered to go. At times when we were being lowered we were at an angle of 45 degrees and expected to be thrown into
the sea. As we reached the level of each deck men jumped into the boat until the officer threatened to shoot the next man who jumped.
We landed in the sea and rowed to a safe distance from the sinking ship. The officer counted our number and found us to be forty-eight. The officer commanded everyone to feel in the bottom of the boat for a light. We found none. Nor was there bread or water in the boat.
The
Titanic
was fast sinking. After she went down the cries were horrible. This was at 2.20 a.m. by a man's watch who stood next to me. At this time three other boats and ours kept together by being tied to each other. The cries continued to come over the water. Some of the women implored Officer Lowe, of No. 14, to divide his passengers among the other three boats and go back to rescue. His first answer to those requests was, âYou ought to be damn glad you are here and have got your own life.' After some time he was persuaded to do as he was asked. As I came up to him to be transferred to the other boat he said, âJump, God damn you, jump!' I had showed no hesitancy and was waiting only my turn. He had been so blasphemous during the two hours we were in his boat that the women at my end of the boat all thought he was under the influence of liquor. Then he took all of the men who had rowed No. 14, together with the men from the other boats, and went back to the scene of the wreck. We were left with a steward and a stoker to row our boat, which was crowded. The steward did his best, but the stoker refused at first to row, but finally helped two women who were the only ones pulling on that side.
(US Inquiry, 10 May 1912)
Born in Newlyn, Cornwall, twenty-nine-year-old
Mrs Addie Wells
was travelling second-class with her two young children â Joan, aged four, and Ralph aged two â to join her railway conductor husband Arthur in Akron, Ohio. They were originally due to travel on the
Oceanic
but the coal strike necessitated a switch to
the
Titanic
. Mrs Wells escaped in boat 14 and nestled her children in her skirts to keep them warm through the bitter night.
When the crash came I took the children and went on deck. I hadn't more than got there when someone grabbed me, saying, âThis way,' and hustled me and the children up to the lifeboat.
An officer was shouting, âCome on here, lively now, this way, women and children,' and before I knew what was happening we were in a lifeboat, and the boat was going down the side while the men stood back serious and sober, watching us.
I thought even then it was some sort of a drill or something, except that just as we went down I saw a revolver in an officer's hand.
A Mrs Davis and a little boy were in the boat with us, and she asked me what it was all about.
As soon as the boat struck water, the seamen began pulling away with all their might. As we got away, we saw a lot of wild-eyed men come rushing up from steerage, but they were met by a man with a gun who pushed them back into a crowd of men and said: âStand back there now, the first word out of you and I'll â¦' I didn't catch the rest. Some of the men from the first and second-class cabins were standing beside the officer.
There were forty or fifty in our boat and I couldn't get a chance to sit down, but stood up keeping the babies warm and dry in my skirts. The sailors pulled at the oars for all they were worth, but the boat kept drifting back against the ship. Finally we got away a hundred feet and we didn't have any more trouble. We spent the night in the boat and were picked up at daybreak.
(
Akron Beacon Journal
, 20 April 1912)
Passenger
Nellie Walcroft
, accompanied on the journey by her friend Miss Clear Cameron, detailed the events of the night in a letter to her local paper in Berkshire.
There was room for two more in boat 14 which, I think, was the last but three to leave the ship. Immediately the order was given to lower the boats, we began to descend. There were fifty-eight women and children but only about three to row when going down. There was no man in charge and Fifth Officer Harold Lowe jumped on our boat and gave the orders. Some men in the steerage were going to spring in and he threatened them with his revolver to shoot the first, knowing that another one would buckle up the lifeboat. He shot twice, but only at the side, so that the men who were panic-stricken in the steerage should know it was loaded and that he meant what he said.
The men lowered our boat. One side worked better than the other and the ropes on one side did not act so the officer gave the order to cut the ropes and the boat fell some distance. Then we got away safely from the ship's side. It was a lovely starlight night, but not light enough for us to see who were in the boats.
The officer told the men to lay on their oars so as to be handy later on. We did not seem to be long on the water. We could see the ship gradually going down, but all the lights were on, when suddenly two terrible explosions took place. The ship seemed to go forward and then split in the middle, and then there were two more explosions that seemed from underneath the water. No more could be seen of that grand ship. All was silent for a moment and then the cries of 1600 men. All were crying for help: it was terrible. I should think the cries must have lasted two hours, or even more, and then the day dawned and we could see six large icebergs. Each looked as large as a house and all the time the cries of the drowning were getting fainter.
Then Officer Lowe wanted to go back to the rescue, but the women begged him not to go. He got about four boats together and distributed his passengers amongst them as many as he possibly could and then went back to the rescue. I believe they rescued six alive from that raft. The others had all died from exposure as it was intensely cold. The boat I got in was No. 10. There had been six picked up but one man was mad. He shook
the boat and we were afraid it would capsize. Two men revived but they were terribly frozen, and two were dead and fell into the water at the bottom of the boat.
Several times we thought we saw the lights of a ship, but no. Then we saw the lights of the
Carpathia
. We tried to shout for joy but it was a poor noise. My friend, Miss Clear Cameron, took an oar and the sea was getting much rougher and several of the passengers were very sick. By this time the cries of the drowning had ceased and the men rowed as quickly as possible. We wondered if we would ever get to it. Our boat had about two feet of water in it although we baled out all the time. Every wave we thought would swamp us, and the wreckage was sailing down right in our course. We got safely over that, but when the boat was so deep in the water we were pulled back to lie at the end of the boat. Oh, that last hour's row with hope in sight!
When we got to the
Carpathia
, we were helped up with ropes. The kindness of the officers and crew we shall never forget. They took us along to the saloon and gave us neat brandy. The women were brought in screaming on account of children they had lost. Some of the children got separated from their parents and others looked after them. Those we had said goodnight to on the
Titanic
on the Sunday evening we shook hands with on the Monday at a quarter to seven. That was the time we were picked up by the
Carpathia
, thanking God for our safety.
All the boats were not in, so we went up on deck and watched the others coming up. Quite near the
Carpathia
were quite large icebergs and ice about 12 miles long, broken ice, it was a most imposing sight. I went to the wireless operator who was very kind and promised, if possible, to get a wireless through to tell Mother I was saved, but he was unable to do so, having so much to do.
We tried to sleep that night on the tables in the saloon, but it thundered and lightened all night. How thankful we were that it was not the previous night!
(
Maidenhead Advertiser
)
Boat 16 was lowered at 1.35 a.m. with fifty-six people on board, mainly women and children from second and third class. One of the crew members was thirty-six-year-old Able Seaman
Ernest Archer
.
I went to the starboard side and assisted in lowering about three boats. Then an officer came along and he sang out that they wanted some seamen on the other side, on the port side, to assist over there. I assisted in getting Nos. 12, 14 and 16 out. When I got to No. 16 boat, the officer told me to get into the boat and see that the plug was in. So I got in the boat. I saw that the plug was in tight, then they started to put passengers in. I never saw any men get in â only my mate. We lowered the boat, and my mate pulled at the releasing bar for both falls, and that cleared the boat, and we started to pull away. There were about fifty passengers and only my mate and myself until the master-at-arms came down the fall to be coxswain of the boat. He took charge.
We rowed, I should say, a quarter of a mile from the ship, and we remained there. I did not think the ship would go down. I thought we might go back to her again afterwards. I heard a couple of explosions. I should say there was about twenty minutes between each explosion. I assumed that water had got into the boiler room.
After the ship went down, one of the lady passengers asked to go back and see if there was anyone in the water we could pick up, but I never heard any more of it. Another lady â a stewardess â tried to assist with the rowing. I told her it was not necessary for her to do it, but she said she would like to do it to keep herself warm.
(US Inquiry, 25 April 1912)
The first of the four collapsible boats to leave was lowered on the starboard side at 1.40 a.m.. There were thirty-nine people on
board including four oriental stowaways. But the most controversial occupant was White Star Line chairman J. Bruce Ismay who crept in unnoticed at the last minute along with another first-class passenger, wealthy American Billy Carter. Ismay later claimed that he only stepped in because there were no more women or children in the vicinity but he was widely condemned for saving his own skin while all around him perished. The man in charge of this boat was thirty-two-year-old Quartermaster
George Rowe
.
I felt a slight jar and looked at my watch. It was a fine night, and it was then twenty minutes to twelve. I looked towards the starboard side of the ship and saw a mass of ice. I then remained on the after bridge to await orders through the telephone. No orders came down, and I remained until twenty-five minutes after twelve, when I saw a boat on the starboard beam. I telephoned to the fore bridge to know if they knew there was a boat lowered. They replied, asking me if I was the third officer. I replied: âNo, I am the quartermaster.' They told me to bring over detonators, which are used in firing distress signals.
I took them to the fore bridge and turned them over to the fourth officer. I assisted the officer to fire them, and was firing the distress signals until about five-and-twenty minutes after.
At that time they were getting out the starboard collapsible boats. The chief officer, Wilde, wanted a sailor. I asked Captain Smith if I should fire any more, and he said: âNo, get into that boat.' I went to the boat. Women and children were being passed in. I assisted six â three women and three children. The order was then given to lower the boat. The chief officer wanted to know if there were more women and children. There were none in the vicinity. Two gentlemen passengers got in. The boat was then lowered. When we reached the water we steered for a light in sight, roughly five miles. We pulled through the night, but seemed to get no nearer to the lights. So we altered our course back to a boat that was carrying a green light. During that time daylight broke and the
Carpathia
was in sight. When daylight
broke, we found four men â Chinamen, I think they were, or Filipinos. They came up between the seats.
(US Inquiry, 25 April 1912)
Londoner
Hugh Woolner
was a first-class passenger on the
Titanic
. He described how Chief Officer William Murdoch fired warning shots while the first collapsible boat was being loaded on the starboard side.
There was a scramble on the starboard side. I looked around and saw two flashes of a pistol in the air. I heard Mr Murdoch shouting: âGet out of this, clear out of this,' and that sort of thing to a lot of men who were swarming into the boat. Lt Steffanson and I went to help clear the boat of the men who were climbing in because there was a bunch of women â I think Italians and foreigners â who were standing on the outside of the crowd, unable to make their way towards the side of the boat. So we helped the officer to pull these men out, by their legs and anything we could get hold of. We pulled out five or six. I think they were probably third-class passengers. When the men cleared out, we lifted these Italian women and put them into the boat. They were very limp.
(US Inquiry, 29 April 1912)
Amy Stanley
, aged twenty-four, from Oxfordshire was travelling third-class to the US to start a job there as a children's maid. She later described her ordeal in a letter to her parents, which was printed in their local paper.
I was writing a postcard the night that the boat struck the iceberg. It was about 11.30 p.m. I got out of bed and put my coat on and went out on deck and asked the steward what was the matter. He told me it was only the engines stopped, and ordered all the women back to bed. But I did not go. I shared a cabin with an American lady and child. I assisted them to dress, and then we went up on deck. We tried to reach the boats. Then
I saw two fellows (whom we met at meals, the only men we made real friends of) coming towards us, who assisted us over the railings into the lifeboat. As we were being lowered a man about 16 stone jumped into the boat almost on top of me. I heard a pistol fired â I believe it was done to frighten the men from rushing the boat. This man's excuse was that he came because of his baby. When we rowed off, the child must have died had I not attended to it.
We were rowing for several hours. I seemed to have extra strength that night to keep up my nerves, for I even made them laugh when I told them we had escaped vaccination, for we were all to have been vaccinated that day [Monday]. I will say no more of that awful row, except that I was able to fix the rope around the women for them to be pulled up on the
Carpathia
while then men steadied the boat. The women seemed quite stupefied yet when I was safe myself, I was the first to break down.
The sight on board was awful, with raving women. Barely six women were saved who could say they had not lost a relative. Oh! the widows the
Titanic
has made!
(
Oxford Times
, 18 May 1912)