"Never mind that," said he. "Now, if you value your life, put on your
coat and belt, then walk round the deck and let the passengers see you."
"He left me then," writes the stewardess, "and that was the last I saw
of what I consider a true hero and one of whom his country has cause to
be proud."
In how far Andrews' efforts and example were the means of averting what
might well have been an awful panic, cannot be said; but sure it is that
all one man could do in such service, both personally and by way of
assisting the ship's officers, was done by him. "He was here, there and
everywhere," says Miss Sloan, "looking after everybody, telling the
women to put on lifebelts, telling the stewardesses to hurry the women
up to the boats, all about everywhere, thinking of everyone but
himself."
Others tell a similar story, how calm and unselfish he was, now pausing
on his way to the engine-room to reassure some passengers, now earnestly
begging women to be quick, now helping one to put on her lifebelt--"all
about everywhere, thinking of everybody but himself."
It is certain also that on the Boat deck he gave invaluable help to the
officers and men engaged in the work of rescue. Being familiar with the
boats' tackle and arrangement he was able to aid effectively at their
launching; and it was whilst going quietly from boat to boat, probably
in those tragic intervals during which the stewardess watched the water
creep up the stairway, that he was heard to say: "Now, men, remember you
are Englishmen. Women and children first."
Some twenty minutes before the end, when the last distress signal had
been fired in vain, when all that Upper deck and the Fore deck as well
were ravaged by the sea, there was a crush and a little confusion near
the place where the few remaining boats were being lowered, women and
children shrinking back, some afraid to venture, some preferring to stay
with their husbands, a few perhaps in the grip of cold and terror. Then
Andrews came and waving his arms gave loud command:
"Ladies, you must get in at once. There is not a minute to lose. You
cannot pick and choose your boat. Don't hesitate. Get in, get in!"
They obeyed him. Do they remember to-day, any of them, that to him they,
as so many more, may owe their lives?
A little way back from that scene, Miss Sloan stood calmly waiting and
seeing Andrews for the last time. She herself was not very anxious to
leave the ship, for all her friends were staying behind and she felt it
was mean to go. But the command of the man, who for nearly two hours she
had seen doing as splendidly as now he was doing, came imperatively.
"Don't hesitate! There's not a moment to lose. Get in!" So she stepped
into the last boat and was saved.
It was then five minutes past two. The _Titanic_ had fifteen minutes
more to live.
Well, all was done now that could be done, and the time remaining was
short. The Forecastle head was under water. All around, out on the sea,
so calm under those wonderful stars, the boats were scattered, some
near, some a mile away or more, the eyes of most in them turned back
upon the doomed ship as one by one her port lights, that still burnt row
above row in dreadful sloping lines, sank slowly into darkness. Soon the
lines would tilt upright, then flash out and flash bright again; then,
as the engines crashed down through the bulkheads, go out once more, and
leave that awful form standing up against the sky, motionless, black,
preparing for the final plunge.
But that time was not yet. Some fifteen minutes were left: and in those
minutes we still have sight of Andrews.
One met him, bareheaded and carrying a lifebelt, on his way to the
bridge perhaps to bid the Captain goodbye.
Later, an assistant steward saw him standing alone in the smoking-room,
his arms folded over his breast and the belt lying on a table near him.
The steward asked him, "Aren't you going to have a try for it, Mr.
Andrews?"