On the night of Sunday, 14th April, at 11 40 ship's time, in clear fine
weather, near Latitude 41° 46' N., Longitude 50° 14' W., the _Titanic_
collided with the submerged spur of an iceberg and ripped her starboard
side ten feet above the level of the keel for a length of about three
hundred feet, thereby giving access to the sea in six of her forward
compartments.
The calamity came with dreadful swiftness. In the vivid words of a
stoker, on duty at the time of collision some two hundred and fifty feet
from the stem: "All of a sudden the starboard side of the ship came in
upon us; it burst like a big gun going off; the water came pouring in
and swilled our legs." Within ten minutes the water rose fourteen feet
above the keel in five of the compartments; afterwards it rose steadily
in all six; and by midnight had submerged the lower deck in the foremost
hold. Yet so gentle apparently was the shock of contact that among the
passengers, and probably among most of the crew as well, it was only the
stopping of the engines that warned them of some happening; whilst for
a considerable time, so quietly the great ship lay on the flat sea, such
confidence had all in her strength, and so orderly was everything, that
to many, almost to the last, it seemed impossible that disaster had
come.[6]
[6] Mersey Commission Report; Sir William White's letter to the
_Times_, dated May 14th.
"At first we did not realise," says Mr. Albert Dick,[7] "that the
_Titanic_ was mortally wounded.... I do not believe that anyone on her
realised she was going to sink." Mr. Dick goes on to record that, in his
view, nothing deserved more praise than the conduct of Andrews after the
ship had struck. "He was on hand at once and said that he was going
below to investigate. We begged him not to go, but he insisted, saying
he knew the ship as no one else did and that he might be able to allay
the fears of the passengers. He went.
[7] _New York Herald_, April 20th, 1912.
"As the minutes flew by we did not know what to do or which way to
turn.... Captain Smith was everywhere doing his best to calm the rising
tide of fear.... But in the minds of most of us there was ... the
feeling that something was going to happen, and we waited for Mr.
Andrews to come back.
"When he came we hung upon his words, and they were these: 'There is no
cause for any excitement. All of you get what you can in the way of
clothes and come on deck as soon as you can. She is torn to bits below,
but she will not sink if her after bulkheads hold.'
"It seemed almost impossible that this could be true ... and many in the
crowd smiled, thinking this was merely a little extra knowledge that Mr.
Andrews saw fit to impart...."
It is almost certain that Andrews, who knew the ship as no one else did,
realised at his first sight of her wounds--a three hundred feet gash, six
compartments open to the sea and perhaps twenty feet of water in one or
more of them--that she was doomed. Possibly with some of his faithful
assistants, probably with Captain Smith, he had made a thorough
examination of the damaged side, reporting to the Captain as result of
his examination that the ship could not live more than an hour and a
half, and advising him to clear away the boats.
How this order was carried out, with what skill and unselfishness on the
part of Captain Smith and his officers, has been told elsewhere[8] in
full detail; nor is it necessary to record further here than that
eventually, after two hours of heroic work, a total of 652 lives left
the _Titanic_ in eighteen boats. Subsequently 60 more were rescued from
the sea, or transferred from the collapsibles, making a sum total of 712
rescued by the _Carpathia_. 712 out of 2,201: it seems tragically few!
Yet at midnight it may have seemed to Andrews that fewer still could be
saved, for not even he hoped that his ship could live for two hours and
twenty minutes more.
[8] _E.g._, Mersey Commission Report, pp. 39-41.
As he came up from the grim work of investigation he saw Miss Sloan and
told her that as an accident had happened it would be well, just by way
of precaution, to get her passengers to put on warm clothing and their
life belts and assemble on the Boat deck. But she read his face, "which
had a look as though he were heart broken," and asked him if the
accident were not serious. He said it was very serious; then, bidding
her keep the bad news quiet for fear of panic, he hurried away to the
work of warning and rescue.
Another stewardess gives an account of Andrews, bareheaded and
insufficiently clad against the icy cold, going quietly about bidding
the attendants to rouse all passengers and get them up to the boats.
Overhearing him say to Captain Smith on the Upper deck, "Well, three
have gone already, Captain," she ran to the lower stairway and to her
surprise found water within six steps of her feet. Whereupon she hurried
above to summon help, and returning met Andrews, who told her to advise
passengers to leave the Upper deck.
Ten minutes went. The water had crept further up the stairway. Again
Andrews came to her and said, "Tell them to put on warm clothing, see
that everyone has a lifebelt and get them all up to the Boat deck."
Another fifteen minutes went. The top of the stairway was now nearly
awash. A second time Andrews came. "Open up all the spare rooms," he
ordered. "Take out all lifebelts and spare blankets and distribute
them."
This was done. Attendants and passengers went above to the Boat deck.
But returning for more belts, the stewardess again met Andrews. He asked
her whether all the ladies had left their rooms. She answered "Yes, but
would make sure."
"Go round again," said he; and then, "Did I not tell you to put on your
lifebelt. Surely you have one?"