_MEMORIAL EDITION_
SINKING OF THE “TITANIC”
MOST APPALLING
OCEAN HORROR
WITH GRAPHIC DESCRIPTIONS OF HUNDREDS
SWEPT TO ETERNITY BENEATH THE WAVES;
PANIC STRICKEN MULTITUDE FACING
SURE DEATH, AND THRILLING
STORIES OF THIS MOST OVERWHELMING CATASTROPHE
TO WHICH IS ADDED VIVID ACCOUNTS OF HEART-RENDING
SCENES, WHEN HUNDREDS WERE
DOOMED TO WATERY GRAVES, COMPILED
FROM SOUL STIRRING STORIES TOLD BY
EYE WITNESSES OF THIS TERRIBLE
HORROR OF THE BRINY DEEP
BY JAY HENRY MOWBRAY, PH.D., LL.D.
The Well Known Author
Profusely Illustrated with a Great Many Photographs of
Thrilling Scenes in this Fearful Catastrophe
TO WHICH IS ADDED ACCOUNTS OF OTHER GREAT DISASTERS
THE MINTER COMPANY
HARRISBURG, PA.
ENTERED ACCORDING TO ACT OF CONGRESS IN THE YEAR 1912, BY
GEO. W. BERTRON
THE OFFICE OF THE LIBRARIAN OF CONGRESS, AT WASHINGTON, D. C., U. S. A.
PREFACE.
“We are as near Heaven by sea as by land,” cried Sir Humphrey Gilbert,
ere his ship sank with him; and the hundreds who perished in the ocean
within reach of the exultant welcome and the festal preparation of
the shore have found Paradise as surely, and in giving “the last full
measure of devotion” have gone as brave men would wish to go.
Sorrow that is too deep and strong for words clutches the heart-strings
of humanity and the Nation mourns for the heroic dead, who were carried
down into the sea with the crushed “Titanic.” They faced death with
high hearts, making the Supreme Sacrifice so that the women and the
helpless little ones might live.
It is a heart-rending story, redeemed and ennobled by the heroism of
the victims. Its details are appalling. The world is full of mournings
for the dead. Nature has conquered again, destroying with ruthless hand
the most marvelous ship that ever floated on the bosom of the deep.
It is the worst disaster that ever befell any vessel. It is the
wrecking of a whole armada within one hull of steel, vaunted as
unsinkable.
The sinking of the “Titanic” is an appalling catastrophe, in the
contemplation of which any words that can be uttered are as futile as
in the presence of the awful majesty of the Angel of Death.
The maiden trip of the newest, staunchest and greatest of the modern
ocean greyhounds has thus apparently ended in the most appalling marine
disaster ever recorded.
The first advices brought word of the safe removal of all the
passengers and the possible success of the crew in their endeavor to
bring the noblest ship afloat to shallow water. Another triumph of the
wireless telegraph was hailed, and from both shores went up a paean of
thanksgiving that the overwhelming loss was not of life but of things
material, that, however valuable, are far less dear and can one day be
replaced.
But now as a bolt from the blue, and as a forecast of the final mortal
terrors of the Day of Judgment, comes the message that of 2300 souls
aboard, but 700--chiefly women and children--have been saved.
All earthly concerns beside this calamity seem to fade into littleness
and nothingness. The sole redeeming circumstance is that heroes met
their death like men, and that human love was victorious over human
terror, and mightier than Death and the open grave of the remorseless
deep.
The one alleviating circumstance in this terrible tragedy is the fact
that the men stood aside and insisted that the women and children
should first have places in the boats.
There were men who were accustomed merely to pronounce a wish to have
it gratified. For one of the humblest fishing smacks or a dory they
could have given the price that was paid to build the immense 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 woman from the
steerage with her 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 the night. The heroism was that
of the women who went, as well as of the men who remained.
The sympathy of all the world will go out to the stricken survivors of
the victims of a world-wide calamity.
INTRODUCTION.
The human imagination is unequal to the reconstruction of the appalling
scene of the disaster in the North Atlantic. No picture of the pen or
of the painter’s brush can adequately represent the magnitude of the
calamity that has made the whole world kin.
How trivial in such an hour seem the ordinary affairs of civilized
mankind--the minor ramifications of politics, the frenetic rivalry of
candidates, the haggle of stock speculators. We are suddenly, by an
awful visitation, made to see our human transactions in their true
perspective, as small as they really are.
Man’s pride is profoundly humbled: he must confess that the victory
this time has gone to the blind, inexorable forces of nature, except in
so far as the manifestation of the heroic virtues is concerned.
The ship that went to her final resting place two miles below the
placid, unconfessing level of the sea represented all that science and
art knew how to contribute to the expedition of traffic, to the comfort
and enjoyment of voyagers.
She had 15 watertight steel compartments supposed to render her
unsinkable. She was possessed of submarine signals with microphones,
to tell the bridge by means of wires when shore or ship or any other
object was at hand.
There was a collision bulkhead to safeguard the ship against the
invasion of water amidships should the bow be torn away. In a word, the
boat was as safe and sound as the shipbuilder could make it.
It was the pride of the owners and the commander that what has happened
could not possibly occur. And yet the Titanic went down, and carried to
their doom hundreds of passengers and men who intimately knew the sea
and had faced every peril that the navigator meets.
In the hours between half-past 10 on Sunday night and half-past 2
Monday morning, while the ship still floated, what did the luxuries of
their $10,000,000 castle on the ocean avail those who trod the eight
steel decks, not knowing at what moment the whole glittering fabric
might plunge with them--as it did plunge--to the unplumbed abyss below?
What was it, in those agonizing hours, to the men who remained aboard,
or to the women and children placed in the boats, that there were three
electric elevators, squash courts and Turkish baths, a hospital with an
operating room, private promenade decks and Renaissance cabins? What is
it to a man about to die to know that there is at hand a palm garden or
a darkroom for photography, or the tapestry of an English castle or a
dinner service of 10,000 pieces of silver and gold?
In that midnight crisis the one thing needful was not provided, where
everything was supplied. The one inadequacy was--the lack of lifeboats.
In the supreme confidence of the tacit assumption that they never
would be needed, the means of rescue--except in a pitiably meagre
insufficiency--was not at hand. There were apparently but 20 boats and
rafts available, each capable of sustaining at most 60 persons.
Yet the ship was built to carry 2435 passengers and 860 in the crew--a
total of 3295 persons.
Whatever the luxuriousness of the appointments, the magnificence of the
carvings and the paintings that surfeited the eye, the amplitude of the
space allotted for the promenade, it seems incredible no calculation
was made for the rescue of at least 2000 of the possible floating
population of the Titanic.
The result of the tragedy must be that aroused public opinion will
compel the formulation of new and drastic regulations, alike by the
British Board of Trade and by the Federal authorities, providing
not merely for the adequate equipment of every ship with salvatory
apparatus but for rigorous periodical inspection of the appliances and
a constant drill of the crew.
Let there be an end of boasting about the supremacy of man to the
immitigable laws and forces of nature. Let the grief of mankind be
assuaged not in idle lamentation but in amelioration of the conditions
that brought about the saddest episode in the history of ships at sea.
The particular line that owned and sent forth the vessel that has
perished has been no more to blame than others that similarly ignored
elemental precautions in favor of superfluous comforts, in a false
sense of security.
When the last boatload of priceless human life swung away from the
davits of the Titanic, it left behind on the decks of the doomed ship
hundreds of men who knew that the vessel’s mortal wound spelt Death for
them also. But no cravens these men who went to their nameless graves,
nor scourged as the galley slave to his dungeon.
Called suddenly from the ordinary pleasure of ship life and fancied
security, they were in a moment confronted with the direct peril of the
sea, and the absolute certainty that, while some could go to safety,
many must remain.
It was the supreme test, for if a man lose his life he loses all. But,
had the grim alternative thought to mock the cowardice of the breed, it
was doomed to disappointment.
Silently these men stood aside. “Women first,” the inexorable law
of the sea, which one disobeys only to court everlasting ignominy,
undoubtedly had no place in their minds. “Women first,” the common law
of humanity, born of chivalry and the nobler spirit of self-sacrifice,
prevailed.
They simply stood aside.
The first blush of poignant grief will pass from those who survive
and were bereft. But always will they sense in its fullest meaning
this greatest of all sacrifice. Ever must it remain as a reassuring
knowledge of the love, and faithfulness, and courage, of the Man, and
of his care for the weak.
“Greater love hath no man than this that a man lay down his life for
his friend.”
Hymn for Survivors of the Titanic.
By HALL CAINE;
The Great English Novelist.
[_To Tune of “God Our Help in Ages Past.”_]
Lord of the everlasting hills,
God of the boundless sea,
Help us through all the shocks of fate
To keep our trust in Thee.
When nature’s unrelenting arm
Sweeps us like withes away,
Maker of man, be Thou our strength
And our eternal stay.
When blind, insensate, heartless force
Puts out our passing breath,
Make us to see Thy guiding light
In darkness and in death.
Beneath the roll of soundless waves
Our best and bravest lie;
Give us to feel their spirits live
Immortal in the sky.
We are Thy children, frail and small,
Formed of the lowly sod,
Comfort our bruised and bleeding souls,
Father and Lord and God.
CONTENTS.
PREFACE iii
INTRODUCTION v
CONTENTS ix
GREAT MARINE DISASTERS FROM 1866 TO 1911 xiii
HYMN FOR THE SURVIVORS OF THE TITANIC, BY HALL CAINE, THE
GREAT ENGLISH NOVELIST xvi
CHAPTER I.
FROM A DAY OF DELIGHT TO DEATH.
April 14, 1912, a Fateful Date--Lulled to False Security--Peaceful
Sabbath Ends in Dire Disaster--Hopes Sink Beneath the Cruel and
Treacherous Waves of the Atlantic--Man’s Proudest Craft Crumbles
Like an Eggshell 17
CHAPTER II.
HEART-RENDING SCENES ON CARPATHIA.
The Next Day--Caring for the Sick--Meeting of the Survivors--Personal
Wireless Messages Gives Precedence--Marconi’s Appeal
Fruitless--Quartermaster Tells Story 35
CHAPTER III.
BAND PLAYED TO THE LAST.
Suffering in the Lifeboats--Statement by Ismay--Would not Desert
Husband--Thirty on Raft in Icy Water--Colonel Astor a Hero--Joked
Over Collision--Officer Saves Many Lives 45
CHAPTER IV.
NEGLECT CAUSED DISASTER.
Tardy Answer to Telephone Call--Lookout’s Signals Not Answered--Ship
Could Have Been Saved--Three Fatal Minutes--Ismay
Accused--Women Help With Oars--Ship Broken in Two--Band
Played Till Last 57
CHAPTER V.
BELIEVED SHIP UNSINKABLE.
Shots and Hymn Mingle--Titanic Settled Slowly--Best Traditions
Upheld by Passengers and Crew--Boiler Explosions Tore Ship
Apart--Anguish in the Boats--Survivors Carried to Carpathia--Not
Enough Provision Against Accident 68
CHAPTER VI.
HOW SURVIVORS ESCAPED.
Managing Director Accused--Stoker Makes Direct Charge--Supported
by Many Survivors--Tells About It--“Please Don’t Knock”--Demanded
Food--Brave Lot of Women--First Officer Shot Himself 81
CHAPTER VII.
WOMAN’S THRILLING NARRATIVE.
Barber Says Good Word for Accused Shipowner--Claims He was a
Witness--Saw the Whole Scene--Woman Tells Different Tale--Mrs.
Carter’s Thrilling Narrative--Barber’s Story Differs From
Ismay’s Own 95
CHAPTER VIII.
SURVIVORS’ STIRRING STORIES.
Survivors’ Stirring Stories--How Young Thayer Was Saved--His
Father, Second Vice President of the Pennsylvania Railroad,
Drowned--Mrs. Straus’ Pathetic Death--Black Coward Shot--Countess
Aids in Rowing Boat 103
CHAPTER IX.
HOW ASTOR WENT TO DEATH.
How Astor Went to Death--“I Resign Myself to My Fate,” He Said--Kissed
Wife Fond Farewell--Lifted Cap to Wife as Boat Left Ship--Crushed
to Death By Ice--Famous Novelist’s Daughter Hears of
His Death--Philadelphia Millionaires’ Heroism--Last to See
Widener Alive--Major Butt Dies a Soldier’s Death 113
CHAPTER X.
NOTABLE WOMAN SAVED.
Praises Captain and Crew--Bids President of Grand Trunk Railway
Good-bye--In Water for Six Hours--Saved by Cake of Ice--Boats
not Filled, she says--Millionaire Died to Save Wife’s Maid--Heroic
Sacrifice of Railroad Official 126
CHAPTER XI.
MAJOR BUTT, MARTYR TO DUTY.
Major Butt Martyr to Duty--Woman’s Soul-Stirring Tribute--Died Like
a Soldier--Was the Man of the Hour--Assisted Captain and Officers
in Saving Women--Cool as if on Dress Parade--Robert M. Daniel
Tells of Disaster and Death of Heroes--Tiny Waifs of the Sea 138
CHAPTER XII.
MRS. ASTOR’S BRAVERY.
Showed Wonderful Fortitude in the Hour of Peril--Sailors in Lifeboat
Tell of Her Heroism--Pleaded to Remain With Husband--Change
Clothes to Embark--Seamen Confirm Murdock’s Suicide--One
Heartless Fiend--Williams Killed as Funnel Fell 148
CHAPTER XIII.
LIFEBOATS BUNGLINGLY HANDLED.
Widow of College Founder Scores Management for Lack of Drill--First
Thought Damage was Slight--Aid May Have Been Near--No Oil in
Life Lamps--Hudson, N. Y., Woman’s Pathetic Recital--A. A.
Dick, of New York, Talks 159
CHAPTER XIV.
NOT LIKE BOURGOGNE DISASTER.
Lone Woman Survivor Makes Comparison--Does Not Like “Law of the
Sea”--Families First, It Should Be, She Says--Husband Greeted
Like the Hero He was--Privations and Horror Hasten Death 171
CHAPTER XV.
BOY’S DESPERATE FIGHT FOR LIFE.
Plunged Into Icy Sea--Did Not See Berg--Parted From Parents--Saw
Many Jump Overboard--Leaped Into Ocean--Eight Year Old Boy’s
Narrative--Was “Very Quiet After He Was In Boat”--Another
Lad Tells How He Saw His Uncle Die 188
CHAPTER XVI.
CARPATHIA TO THE RESCUE.
Cunarder’s Race to Titanic’s Aid--Captain Rostrom’s Unvarnished but
Dramatic Report--Knot in Operator’s Shoelace Saved Hundreds of
Lives--Was About to Retire, But Slight Delay Enabled Him to
Hear Message--Icebergs Defied in Desperate Rush 199
CHAPTER XVII.
REFUSED TO LEAVE HUSBAND.
“Where You Are I Shall Be,” Says Mrs. Isidor Straus--He Begged
Her in Vain to Enter the Waiting Lifeboat--Women Row Lifeboats--Stokers
no Oarsmen--Crazed Men Rescued--Collapsible
Boats Failed to Work 205
CHAPTER XVIII.
LADY DUFF-GORDON’S EXPERIENCES.
Says it was as if Giant Hand had Pushed Ship Down--Realistic Picture
of Titanic’s Death Plunge--The Long, Dreary Wait--Man at Wheel
Tells of Crash--Told by Phone “Iceberg Ahead” Just as Ship
Struck--Saw Captain on Bridge 216
CHAPTER XIX.
SENATORS HEAR STARTLING STORIES.
Senators Hear Startling Stories--Probing Committee Took Prompt
Action--Special Investigation to Forstall Spiriting Away of
Witnesses--Prominent Persons on Stand--Carpathia’s Captain and Head
of White Star Line Chief Witnesses--Inventor of Wireless Telegraphy
Also Testifies 235
CHAPTER XX.
SURVIVING OPERATOR’S EXPERIENCES.
Surviving Operator’s Experiences--Tells Senator How He Escaped--Tale
of Suffering and Death--Managing Director’s Flight Balked--Long
Hours and Low Wages for Wireless Men--Refused Help from
Frankfurt--Called Its Operator a Fool--Laxity of Wireless--Denies
Sending “Saved” Message--Gave Warning of Ice 248
CHAPTER XXI.
THE FUNERAL SHIP AND ITS DEAD.
116 Buried at Sea--Nearly all Sailors--No Prominent Men Buried--No
Bullet Wounds Found--Halifax’s Bells Toll for Dead--Astor’s
Body Identified--Death Ship’s Voyage--The Captain’s Story--Canon
Hind’s Narrative 258
CHAPTER XXII.
INQUIRY BY UNITED STATES SENATE.
Loading at the Rail--Inadequate Life-saving Appliances--No Extra
Lookout--Searchlights Blinding--Wireless Rivals Not All Aroused--Went
to Death in Sleep--Scratch Seamen--Cries of Agony--A
Pitiful Story--Senators Ascertain Pertinent Facts--Much Good
Accomplished 271
LIST OF TITANIC PASSENGERS MISSING AND RESCUED 281
_GREAT MARINE DISASTERS FROM 1866 TO 1911._
Among the great marine disasters on record that have resulted in loss
of lives and vessels are:
1866, Jan. 11.--Steamship London, on her way to Melbourne, foundered
in the Bay of Biscay; 220 lives lost.
1866, Oct. 3.--Steamship Evening Star, from New York to New Orleans,
foundered; about 250 lives lost.
1867, Oct. 29.--Royal Mail steamships Rhone and Wye and about 50 other
vessels driven ashore and wrecked at St. Thomas, West Indies, by a
hurricane; about 100 lives lost.
1870,--Indian Line steamship City of Boston left New York with 117
passengers and was never heard from.
1871, July 30.--Staten Island ferryboat Westfield exploded in New York
hurricane; about 1000 lives lost.
1873, Jan. 22.--British steamship North Fleet 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 liner Ville du Havre, from New York to Havre,
lost in collision with ship Lochearn; sank in 16 minutes; 110 lives
lost.
1874, Dec. 26.--Immigrant vessel Cospatrick took fire and sank off
Auckland; 476 lives lost.
1875, May 7.--Hamburg Mail steamship Schiller wrecked in fog on Sicily
Isles; 200 lives lost.
1875, Nov. 4.--American steamship Pacific in collision 30 miles
southwest of Cape Flattery; 236 lives lost.
1877, Nov. 24.--U. S. sloop of war Huron wrecked off North Carolina
coast; 110 lives lost.
1878, Jan. 31.--Steamship Metropolis wrecked off North Carolina; 104
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 steamship Princess Alice sunk in
collision in the Thames; 700 lives lost.
1878, Dec. 18.--French steamship Byzantin sunk in collision in the
Dardanelles with the British steamship Rinaldo; 210 lives lost.
1879, Dec. 2.--Steamship Borusia sunk off coast of Spain; 174 lives
lost.
1880, Jan. 31.--British training ship Atlanta left Bermuda with 290
men and was never heard from.
1881, Aug. 30.--Steamship Teuton wrecked off the Cape of Good Hope;
200 lives lost.
1883, July 3.--Steamship Daphne turned turtle in the Clyde; 124 lives
lost.
1884, Jan. 18.--American steamship City of Columbus wrecked on Gay
Head Light, Mass.; 99 lives lost.
1884, April 19.--Bark Ponema and steamship State of Florida sank in
mid-ocean after collision; 145 lives lost.
1884, July 23.--Spanish steamship Gijon and British steamship Lux in
collision off Finistere; 150 lives lost.
1887, Jan. 29.--Steamship Kapunda in collision with bark Ada Melore
off coast of Brazil; 300 lives lost.
1887, Nov. 15.--British steamship Wah Young caught fire between Canton
and Hongkong; 400 lives lost.
1888, Sept. 13.--Italian steamship Sud America and steamship La France
in collision near the Canary Islands; 89 lives lost.
1889, March 16.--U. S. warship Trenton, Vandalia and Lipsic and German
ships Adler and Eber wrecked on Samoan Islands; 147 lives lost.
1890, Jan. 2.--Steamship Persia wrecked off Corsica; 130 lives lost.
1890, Feb. 17.--British steamship Duburg wrecked in China Sea; 400
lives lost.
1890, March 1.--British steamship Quetia foundered in Lorres Straits;
124 lives lost.
1890, Sept. 19.--Turkish frigate Ertogrul foundered off Japan; 540
lives lost.
1890, Dec. 27.--British steamship Shanghai burned in China Sea; 101
lives lost.
1891, March 17.--Anchor liner Utopia in collision with British
steamship Anson off Gibraltar and sunk; 574 lives lost.
1891, April 16.--British ship St. Catharis wrecked off Caroline
Island; 90 lives lost.
1892, Jan. 13.--Steamship Namehow wrecked in China Sea; 414 lives lost.
1892, Oct. 28.--Anchor liner Romania wrecked off Corsica; 113 lives
lost.
1893, Feb. 8.--Anchor line Trinalria wrecked off Spain; 115 lives lost.
1893, June 22.--British battleship Pretoria sunk in collision with the
Camperdown off Syria; 357 lives lost.
1894, Nov. 1.--Steamship Wairaro wrecked off New Zealand; 134 lives
lost.
1894, June 25.--Steamship Norge wrecked on Rockall Reef in North
Atlantic; nearly 600 lives lost.
1895, Jan. 30.--German steamship Elbe, sunk in collision with British
steamship Grathie in North Sea; 335 lives lost.
1895, March 11.--Spanish cruiser Reina Regenta foundered in Atlantic
at entrance to Mediterranean; 400 lives lost.
1898, July 2.--Steamship Bourgogne rammed British steel sailing vessel
Cromartshire and sank rapidly; 571 lives lost.
1904, June 15.--General Slocum, excursion steamboat with 1400 persons
aboard; took fire going through Hell Gate, East River; more than 1000
lives lost.
1905, Sept. 12.--Japanese warship Mikasa sunk after explosion in
Sasebo harbor; 599 lives lost.
1907, Feb. 12.--Steamship Larchmont in collision with Harry Hamilton
in Long Island Sound; 183 lives lost.
1907, Feb. 21.--English mail steamship Berlin wrecked off the Hook of
Holland; 142 lives lost.
1907, Feb. 24.--Austrian Lloyd steamship Imperatrix, from Trieste to
Bombay, wrecked on Cape of Crete and sunk; 137 lives lost.
1907, Jan.--British steamship Pengwern foundered in the North Sea;
crew and 24 men lost.
1907, Jan.--Prinz Waldemar, Hamburg-American line, aground at
Kingston, Jamaica, after earthquake; 3 lives lost.
1907, Feb.--French warship Jean Bart, sunk off coast of Morocco.
1907, March.--Steamship Congo sunk at mouth of Ems river by German
steamship Nerissa; 7 lives lost.
1907, March.--French warship Jena, blown up at Toulon; 120 lives lost.
1907, July.--Steamship Columbia, sunk off Shelton Cove, California, in
collision with steamship San Pedro; 50 lives lost.
1908, Feb. 3.--Steamship St. Cuthbert, bound from Antwerp to New York,
burned at sea on Nova Scotia; 15 lives lost.
1908, April 25.--British cruiser Gladiator rammed by American liner
St. Paul off Isle of Wight; 30 lives lost.
1908, July.--Chinese warship Ying King foundered; 300 lives lost.
1908, Aug. 24.--Steamship Folgenenden wrecked; 70 persons lost.
1908, Nov. 6.--Steamship Taish sunk in storm off Etoro Island; 150
lives lost.
1911, Feb. 2.--Steamship Abenton wrecked; 70 lives lost.
1911, April 23.--Steamship Asia ran aground; 40 lives lost.
1911, Sept. 5.--Steamship Tuscapel wrecked; 81 lives lost.
1911, Oct. 2.--Steamship Hatfield in collision and sunk; 207 lives
lost.
1911, April 2.--Steamship Koombuna wrecked; 150 lives lost.
HUNDREDS WEEP AT MEMORIAL SERVICES HELD FOR “ARCHIE” BUTT.
Fifteen hundred sincere mourners for Major Archibald W. Butt, lost on
the Titanic, wept unashamed at his home in Augusta, Georgia, on May 2,
when President Taft called his former aid affectionately by his first
name and choked with tears as he paid a personal tribute to the army
officer.
It was at a monster memorial service for the soldier, where all Augusta
paid homage to his memory. President Taft was the main speaker. He was
deeply affected by the solemn ritual.
“If Archie could have selected a time to die he would have chosen the
one God gave him,” the President said, his voice broken with emotion.
“His life was spent in self-sacrifice, serving others. His
forgetfulness of self had become a part of his nature.
“Everybody who knew him called him Archie.
“I couldn’t prepare anything in advance to say here,” the President
continued. “I tried, but couldn’t. He was too near me. He was loyal to
my predecessor, Mr. Roosevelt, who selected him to be military aid, and
to me he had become as a son or a brother.”
Taft pictured a new side to Major Butt’s character--his love for his
mother.
“I think he never married because of that love for her who was taken
from him two years ago,” the President declared.
[Illustration:
IN MEMORIAM
OF THE
STEAMSHIP
TITANIC’S
DEAD
]
[Illustration: TRIPLE SCREW STEAMER “TITANIC” WAS THE LARGEST AND
FINEST VESSEL IN THE WORLD: 882½ FEET LONG, 45,000 TONS REGISTER, 92½
FEET WIDE]
[Illustration:
Life boats of the “Titanic” which would only hold one third of the
passengers. All could have been saved had there been a sufficient
number of boats. These few boats rescued all that were saved from this
appalling disaster.
]
[Illustration: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9
STEAMSHIP “TITANIC” SHOWING LENGTH AS COMPARED WITH THE HIGHEST
BUILDINGS.
1 Bunker Hill Monument, Boston 221 Feet High
2 Public Buildings, Philadelphia 534 Feet High
3 Washington Monument, Washington 555 Feet High
4 Metropolitan Tower, New York 700 Feet High
5 New Woolworth Building, New York 750 Feet High
6 White Star Line’s Triple Screw Steamer “TITANIC” 882½ Feet Long
7 Cologne Cathedral, Cologne, Germany 516 Feet High
8 Grand Pyramid, Gizeh, Africa 451 Feet High
9 St. Peter’s Church, Rome, Italy 448 Feet High
]
[Illustration: ENTRANCE HALL AND GRAND STAIRCASE OF THE “TITANIC”
A striking introduction to the wonders and beauty of the “Titanic” is
the entrance hall and grand staircase in the forward section where
one begins to realize for the first time the magnificence of this
surpassing steamer. It is the largest and finest steamship in the
world. It is indeed a floating palace.
]
[Illustration:
CAPTAIN ROSTRON, OF THE “CARPATHIA,” WHO RUSHED HIS SHIP TO THE RESCUE
OF THE “TITANIC’S” PASSENGERS AND BROUGHT THEM TO NEW YORK. THIS BOOK
CONTAINS MANY THRILLING STORIES THAT WERE TOLD BY PASSENGERS WHILE
ABOARD THIS RESCUE SHIP
]
[Illustration: WILLIAM T. STEAD OF LONDON, ENGLAND
EDITOR REVIEW OF REVIEWS, WHO STOOD BY CAPTAIN SMITH WHEN THE SHIP WAS
SINKING AND WITHOUT TREPIDATION WENT TO A WATERY GRAVE]
[Illustration: HUGE ICEBERG AS PHOTOGRAPHED ABOUT 100 MILES NORTH OF
THE SCENE OF THE “TITANIC” DISASTER.]
[Illustration: ISADORE STRAUS
THE NEW YORK MILLIONAIRE MERCHANT AND PHILANTHROPIST WHO LOST HIS LIFE
ON THE GIANT TITANIC.]
[Illustration: A TYPE OF MAGNIFICENT OCEAN GREY HOUND. THE STEAMSHIP
“KAISERIN AUGUSTE VICTORIA” OF HAMBURG-AMERICAN LINE.
This steamer is 700 feet long, 77 feet wide and 54 feet deep. She has
accommodations for 550 first-class passengers, 350 second-class, 300
third-class and 2300 steerage passengers, making altogether a floating
city of 3500 population.
]
[Illustration: MAIN DINING ROOM, STEAMSHIP “KAISERIN AUGUSTE VICTORIA,”
OF THE HAMBURG-AMERICAN LINE.
It has promenade decks, large cabins with lower berths only, grand
combination suites of rooms, and in addition to the grand dining saloon
a perfectly equipped restaurant. Small tables have been provided in
place of the long tables that have for many years been in use on
steamships.]
[Illustration: SEEKING INFORMATION ABOUT LOST RELATIVES AND FRIENDS AT
THE OFFICE OF THE STEAMSHIP COMPANY.]
[Illustration: EFFECT OF THE MIRAGE AS SEEN AMONG THE ICE FLOES.]
[Illustration: THE SINKING “TITANIC” CARRYING HUNDREDS OF SOULS TO
WATERY GRAVES BEFORE THE EYES OF TERRIFIED SURVIVORS IN LIFEBOATS. THIS
AWFUL TRAGEDY SENT A MAGNIFICENT SHIP THAT WAS CALLED “UNSINKABLE” TO
THE BOTTOM OF THE OCEAN AFTER RUNNING INTO AN ICEBERG]
[Illustration:
COPYRIGHT BY UNDERWOOD & UNDERWOOD, N. Y.
THESE BRIGHT LITTLE FRENCH CHILDREN WERE RESCUED FROM THE “TITANIC;”
MISS HAYS, HERSELF A SURVIVOR, IS TAKING CARE OF THEM. THEY WERE COMING
TO AMERICA WITH THEIR FATHER, WHO WENT DOWN WITH THE SHIP]
[Illustration: SINKING OF THE “TITANIC.” THERE WAS A MIGHTY ROAR WHEN
THE SHIP WENT DOWN. THE BOW SANK FIRST, WITH STERN POISED IN THE AIR,
WHEN SUDDENLY IT PLUNGED OUT OF SIGHT, CARRYING HUNDREDS OF SOULS TO
ETERNITY]
CHAPTER I.
FROM A DAY OF DELIGHT TO DEATH.
April 14, 1912, a Fateful Date--Lulled to False Security--Peaceful
Sabbath Ends in Dire Disaster--Hopes Sink Beneath the Cruel and
Treacherous Waves of the Atlantic--Man’s Proudest Craft Crumbles Like
an Eggshell.
The hands of the ship’s clock pointed to 11.40. The beautiful day of
April 14, 1912, rapidly was drawing to its close.
A solemn hush brooded over the ocean, the stillness broken only by the
swish of the waters as they protested against being so rudely brushed
aside by the mammoth creation of man. Then, too, the soft cadences of
sacred music from the ship’s orchestra sent their strains dancing o’er
the billows to mingle with the star beam and intensify rather than mar
the stillness.
Above, the stars and planets twinkled and glittered as they beam only
in the rarified atmosphere of the far northern latitudes.
The day had been one of rare beauty. A soft and caressing breeze had
kissed the sea and rocked the waves in a harmonious symphony against
the steel-ribbed sides of the world’s largest, greatest and most
luxurious floating palace, the majestic Titanic, the newest addition to
the trans-Atlantic fleet of the White Star Line of the International
Navigation Company.
The star-sprinkled dome of heaven and the phosphorescent sea alike
breathed forth peace, quiet and security.
Despite the lateness of the hour, aboard the Titanic all was animation.
A few, to be sure, had wearied of Nature’s marvels and had sought their
slumber, but the gorgeous quarters of the first cabin and the scarcely
less pretentious sections set apart for second class passengers were
alike teeming with life and light.
Meanwhile, as they had for days past, the mighty engines of this
monster of the sea pulsed and throbbed, while the rhythmic beat of the
Titanic’s great bronze-bladed propellors churned up a fast and steadily
lengthening wake behind the speeded vessel.
“We’ll break the record today,” her officers laughed, and the
passengers gleefully shared their mirth.
A record; a record!
And a record she made--but of death and destruction!
But who could know? And since no mortal could, why not eat, drink and
be merry?
Britain’s shores had been left behind far back across the waste of
waters. America, the land of hope, was almost in sight ahead.
TALK OF HOME AND FRIENDS AND LIFE.
Small wonder that hundreds still strolled the Titanic’s spotless,
unsullied decks and talked of home and friends and life and joy and
hope. Small wonder that other hundreds lounged at ease in her luxurious
saloons and smoking rooms, while other scores of voyagers, their
appetites whetted by the invigorating air, sat at a midnight supper to
welcome the new week with a feast.
Why sleep when the wealth, the beauty, the brains, the aristocracy as
well as the bone and sinew of a nation were all around one?
For, be it known, never before did ship carry so distinguished a
company--a passenger list that reads like a Social Blue Book.
This maiden trip of the Titanic was an event that was to go down in
history, they thought.
And so it will, but with tears on every page of the narrative and the
wails of women and children in every syllable.
But since the future is unrolled only in God’s own good time, how could
they know?
Why wonder at their presence?
Was this not the first trip of the greatest triumph of marine
architecture?
Had not the wealth and fashion of two continents so arranged their
plans as to be numbered on its first passenger list?
Had not the hardy immigrant skimped and saved and schemed that he
and his family should be carried to the Land of Promise aboard this
greatest of all ships?
What mattered it to him that his place was in the steerage? Did not
each pulsing throb of the Titanic’s mighty engines bear him as far and
as fast as though he, too, already held in his hand the millions he
felt he was destined to win in this golden land of opportunity beyond
the seas?
And so, from the loftiest promenade deck to the lowest stoke hole in
the vitals of the ship peace and comfort and happiness reigned.
APPROACHING HOME AND FRIENDS.
To some the rapidly-nearing shores of America meant home--and friends.
To others, opportunity--and work. Yet to all it meant the culmination
of a voyage which, so far, had been one all-too-short holiday from the
bustle and turmoil of a busy world.
“Man proposes, but God disposes!”
Never were truer words uttered, nor phrase more fitting to that fateful
hour.
“In the midst of life we are in death.”
Yet the soft breeze from the south still spread its balmy, salt-laden
odors to delight their senses and to lull them to a feeling of complete
security.
What was that?
A cold breath as from the fastnesses of the Frost King swept the
steamer’s decks.
A shiver of chill drove the wearied passengers below, but sent the
ship’s officers scurrying to their stations. The seaman, and the seaman
alone, knew that that icy chill portended icebergs--and near at hand.
Besides, twice in the last few hours had the wireless ticked its
warnings from passing vessels that the Titanic was in the vicinity of
immense floes.
Why had the warning not been heeded?
Why had the ponderous engines continued to thunder with the might of a
hundred thousand horses, and the ship to plunge forward into the night
with the unchecked speed of an express train?
God knows!
The captain knew, but his lips are sealed in death as, a self-inflicted
bullet in his brain, he lies in the cold embrace of the sea he had
loved and had defied--too long.
THE LOOKOUT’S WARNING CRY.
Perhaps Bruce Ismay, the managing director of the line, who was on
board--and survived when women drowned--also knows. Perhaps he will
tell by whose orders those danger warnings were scoffed at and ignored.
Perhaps; perhaps!
The lookout uttered a sharp cry!
Too late!
One grinding crash and the Titanic had received its death blow. Man’s
proudest craft crumbled like an eggshell.
Ripped from stem to engine room by the great mass of ice she struck
amidships, the Titanic’s side was laid open as if by a gigantic can
opener. She quickly listed to starboard and a shower of ice fell on to
the forecastle deck.
Shortly before she sank she broke in two abaft the engine room, and as
she disappeared beneath the water the expulsion of air or her boilers
caused two explosions, which were plainly heard by the survivors adrift.
A moment more and the Titanic had gone to her doom with the fated
hundreds grouped on the after deck. To the survivors they were visible
to the last, and their cries and moans were pitiable.
The one alleviating circumstance in the otherwise unmitigable tragedy
is the fact that the men stood aside and insisted that the women and
the children 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.
HARDER TO GO THAN TO STAY.
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 that Sunday night. The heroism
was that of the women who went, as well as of the men who remained.
The most adequate story of the terrible disaster is told by a trained
newspaper man, who was on the Carpathia. He says:
Cause, responsibility and similar questions regarding the stupendous
disaster will be taken up in time by the British marine authorities.
No disposition has been shown by any survivor to question the courage
of the crew, hundreds of whom saved others and gave their own 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
the first cabin missing.
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 icebergs.
That the Titanic’s speed, nearly twenty-three knots an hour, was not
slackened.
INSUFFICIENT LIFE-BOATS.
That the number of lifeboats on the Titanic was insufficient to
accommodate much more than one-third of the passengers, to say nothing
of the crew. Most members of the crew say there were sixteen lifeboats
and two collapsibles; none say there were more than twenty boats in
all. The 700 who escaped filled most of the sixteen lifeboats and the
one collapsible which got away, to the limit of their capacity.
That the “women first” rule, in some cases, was applied to the extent
of turning back men who were with their families, even though not
enough women to fill the boats were at hand on that particular part of
the deck. Some few boats were thus lowered without being completely
filled, but most of these were soon filled with sailors and stewards,
picked up out of the water, who helped man them.
That the bulkhead system, though probably working in the manner
intended, availed only to delay the ship’s sinking. The position and
length of the ship’s wound (on the starboard quarter) admitted icy
water, which caused the boilers to explode, and these explosions
practically broke the ship in two.
Had the ship struck the iceberg head-on, at whatever speed, and
with whatever resultant 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.
The Titanic was 1799 miles from Queenstown and 1191 miles from New
York, speeding for a maiden voyage record. The night was starlight, the
sea glassy. Lights were out in most of the staterooms and only two or
three congenial groups remained in the public rooms.
In the crows’ nest, or lookout, and on the bridge, officers and members
of the crew were at their places, awaiting relief at midnight from
their two hours’ watch.
At 11.45 came the sudden sound of two gongs, a warning of immediate
danger.
The crash against the iceberg, which had been sighted at only a quarter
of a mile, came almost simultaneously with the clink of the levers
operated by those on the bridge, which stopped the engine and closed
the watertight doors.
CAPTAIN SMITH ON THE BRIDGE.
Captain Smith was on the bridge a moment later, giving orders for the
summoning of all on board and for the putting on of life preservers and
the lowering of the lifeboats.
The first boats lowered contained more men passengers than the latter
ones, as the men were on deck first, and not enough women were there to
fill them.
When, a moment later, the rush of frightened women and crying children
to the deck began, enforcement of the women-first rule became rigid.
Officers loading some of the boats drew revolvers, but in most cases
the men, both passengers and crew, behaved in a way that called for no
such restraint.
Revolver shots, heard by many persons shortly before the end of the
Titanic caused many rumors. One was that Captain Smith shot himself,
another was that First Officer Murdock ended his life. Smith, Murdock
and Sixth Officer Moody are known to have been lost. The surviving
officers, Lightoller, Pitman, Boxhall and Lowe, have made no statement.
Members of the crew discredit all reports of suicide, and say Captain
Smith remained on the bridge until just before the ship sank, leaping
only after those on the decks had been washed away. It is also related
that, when a cook later sought to pull him aboard a lifeboat, he
exclaimed, “Let me go!” and, jerking away, went down.
What became of the men with life preservers? is a question asked
since the disaster by many persons. The preservers did their work of
supporting their wearers in the water until the ship went down. Many of
those drawn into the vortex, despite the preservers, did not come up
again. Dead bodies floated on the surface as the last boats moved away.
“NEARER MY GOD TO THEE.”
To relate that the ship’s string band gathered in the saloon, near the
end, and played “Nearer, My God, To Thee,” sounds like an attempt to
give an added solemn color to a scene which was in itself the climax
of solemnity. But various passengers and survivors of the crew agree
in the declaration that they heard this music. To some of the hearers,
with husbands among the dying men in the water, and at the ship’s rail,
the strain brought in thought the words
“So, by my woes I’ll be
Nearer, My God, to Thee,
Nearer to Thee.”
“Women and children first,” was the order in the filling of the
Titanic’s lifeboats. How well that order was fulfilled, the list of
missing first and second cabin passengers bears eloquent witness. “Mr.”
is before almost every name, and the contrast is but made stronger
by the presence of a few names of women--Mrs. Isidor Straus, who
chose death rather than to leave her husband’s side; Mrs. Allison,
who remained below with her husband and daughter, and others who, in
various ways, were kept from entering the line of those to be saved.
To most of the passengers, the midnight crash against the ice mountain
did not seem of terrific force. Many were so little disturbed by it
that they hesitated to dress and put on life preservers, even when
summoned by that thundering knocks and shouts of the stewards. Bridge
players in the smoking room kept on with their game.
Once on deck, many hesitated to enter the swinging lifeboats. The
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,
Montreal banker, laughed at the warning, and his wife, reassured by
him, took her time about dressing. They and their daughter did not
reach the Carpathia. Their son, less than two years old, was carried
into a lifeboat by his nurse, and was taken in charge by Major Arthur
Peuchen.
ADMIRATION AND CONFIDENCE.
The admiration felt by passengers and crew for the matchlessly
appointed vessel was translated, in those first few moments, into a
confidence which for some proved deadly.
In the loading of the first boat restrictions of sex were not made, and
it seemed to the men who piled in beside the women that there would
be boats enough for all. But the ship’s officers knew better than
this, and as the spreading fear caused an earnest advance toward the
suspended craft, the order, “Women first!” was heard, and the men were
pushed aside.
To the scenes of the next two hours on those decks and in the waters
below, such adjectives as “dramatic” and “tragic” do but poor justice.
With the knowledge of deadly peril gaining greater power each moment
over those men and women, the nobility of the greater part, both among
cabin passengers, officers, crew and steerage, asserted itself.
Isidor Straus, supporting his wife on her way to a lifeboat, was held
back by an inexorable guard. Another officer strove to help her to a
seat of safety, but she brushed away his arm and clung to her husband,
crying, “I will not go without you.”
Another woman took her place, and her form, clinging to her husband’s,
became part of a picture now drawn indelibly in many minds. Neither
wife nor husband reached a place of safety.
Colonel Astor, holding his young wife’s arm, stood decorously aside as
the officers spoke to him, and Mrs. Astor and her maid were ushered to
seats. Mrs. Henry B. Harris, parted in like manner from her husband,
saw him last at the rail, beside Colonel Astor. Walter M. Clark, of Los
Angeles, nephew of the Montana Senator, joined the line of men as his
young wife, sobbing, was placed in one of the boats.
AN AGONIZING SEPARATION.
“Let him come! There is room!” cried Mrs. Emil Taussig as the men of
the White Star Line motioned to her husband to leave her. It was with
difficulty that he released her hold to permit her to be led to her
place.
George D. Widener, who had been in Captain Smith’s company a few
moments after the crash, was another whose wife was parted from him and
lowered a moment later to the surface of the calm sea.
Of Major Archie Butt, a favorite with his fellow tourists; of Charles
M. Hayes, president of the Grand Trunk; of Benjamin Guggenheim and of
William T. Stead, no one seems to know whether they tarried too long in
their staterooms or whether they forebore to approach the fast filling
boats, none of them was in the throng which, weary hours afterward,
reached the Carpathia.
Simultaneously on all the upper decks of the ship the ropes creaked
with the lowering of the boats. As they reached the water, those in
the boats saw what those on the decks could not see--that the Titanic
was listing rapidly to starboard, and that her stern was rising at a
portentous angle. A rush of steerage men toward the boats was checked
by officers with revolvers in hand.
Some of the boats, crowded too full to give rowers a chance, drifted
for a time. None 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.
ECHOING SPLASH OF CHILLY WATERS.
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 the 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 the
heart-breaking cries of “Help! Help!” and stiffened forms were seen
floating, the faces relaxed in death.
Revolver shots were heard in the ship’s last moments. The first report
spread among the boats was that Captain Smith had ended his life with
a bullet. Then it was said that a mate had shot a steward who tried to
push his way upon a boat against orders. None of these tales has been
verified, and many of the crew say the captain, without a preserver,
leaped in at the last and went down, refusing a cook’s offered aid.
The last of the boats, a collapsible, was launched too late to get
away, and was overturned by the ship’s sinking. Some of those in
it--all, say some witnesses--found safety on a raft or were picked up
by lifeboats.
In the Marconi tower, almost to the last, the loud click of the sending
instrument was heard over the waters. Who was receiving the message,
those in the boats did not know, and they would least of all have
supposed that a Mediterranean ship in the distant South Atlantic track
would be their rescuer.
As the screams in the water multiplied, another sound was heard, strong
and clear at first, then fainter in the distance. It was the melody
of the hymn “Nearer, My God, to Thee,” played by the string orchestra
in the dining saloon. Some of those on the water started to sing the
words, but grew silent as they realized that for the men who played
the music was a sacrament soon to be consummated by death. The serene
strains of the hymn and the frantic cries of the dying blended in a
symphony of sorrow.
BOATS FOLLOW THE GREEN LIGHT.
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, into so great as had been
feared, rocked but mildly the group of boats now a quarter of a mile
distant from it.
Sixteen boats were in the forlorn 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 chocked back tears and sought to comfort the widowed.
Perhaps, they said, other boats might have put off in another direction
toward the last. They strove, though none too sure themselves, to
convince the women of the certainty that a rescue ship would appear.
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 Rostrom 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 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.”
THE LAST OF THE LINE OF BOATS.
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 icefield, 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.
In his tiny house over the second cabin smoking room was Harold Cotton,
the Marconi operator, a ruddy English youth, whose work at his post, on
what seemed ordinary duty, until almost midnight, had probably saved
the lives of the huddling hundreds below.
Already he was knitting his brows over the problem of handling the
messages which were coming in batches from the purser’s office. The
haste with which these Marconigrams were prepared by their senders was
needless, in view of the wait of two days and two nights for a long
connection. “Safe” was the word with which most of the messages began;
then, in many of them, came the words “---- missing.”
Dishevelled women, who the night before could have drawn thousands
from husbands’ letters of credit or from Titanic’s safe, stood
penniless before the Carpathia’s purser, asking that their messages be
forwarded--collect. Their messages were taken with the rest.
HOPE REVIVED BY SIGHT OF CATTLE BOAT.
The Californian, a cattle ship, came near us, and though it gave no
sign of having any of the Titanic’s refugees on board, its presence in
the vicinity gave hope to many women who were encouraged in the belief
that the Californian might have picked up their loved ones.
Captain Rostrom’s decision to abandon the Mediterranean course, begun
the Thursday before, and to return to an American port, was soon known
to the passengers. At first it was reported that Halifax or Boston
would be the destination, but at noon the notice of the intended
arrival at New York three days later was posted. At that time the
Carpathia, at an increase over her usual moderate speed, was westward
bound and her passengers were deferring their hopes of Gibraltar,
Naples and Trieste, and were sharing their rooms with the newcomers.
Few men of the Carpathia’s passenger list slept in a bed in any of the
nights that followed. They had the men of the Titanic lay in chairs on
deck, on dining tables or smoking-room couches, or on the floors of the
rooms which held their hand baggage and their curtained-off guests. The
captain was the first to vacate his room, which was used as a hospital.
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 some other steamer 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. Ella Thor, Miss
Marie Young, Mrs. Emil Taussig and her daughter, Ruth; Mrs. Martin
Rothschild, Mrs. William Augustus Spencer, Mrs. J. Stuart White and
Mrs. Walter M. Clark were a few of those who lay back, exhausted,
on the leather cushions and told in shuttering sentences of their
experiences.
PROUD OF HER HUSBAND’S OARSMANSHIP.
Mrs. John Jacob Astor and the Countess of Rothes had been taken to
staterooms soon after their arrival on shipboard. Those who talked with
Mrs. Astor said she spoke often of her husband’s ability as an oarsman
and said he could save himself if he had a chance. That he could have
had such a chance, she seemed hardly to hope.
To another stateroom a tall, dark man had been conducted, his
head bowed, anguish in his face. He was Bruce Ismay, head of the
International Mercantile Marine and chief owner of the Titanic and her
sister ship, the Olympic. He has made the maiden voyage on each of his
company’s great ships. He remained in his room in a physician’s care
during the voyage back to New York. Captain Rostrom, his only caller,
was not admitted to see him until Tuesday evening.
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 fitted than its first, the second class arrivals
had to be sent to the steerage.
In the middle of the morning, the Carpathia passed near the spot,
seamen said, where the Titanic went down. Only a few floating chairs
marked the place. The ice peaks had changed their position. Which of
those in sight, if any, caused the wreck was matter of conjecture.
Those of the refugees who had not lost relatives found subject for
distress in the reflection that their money and jewels were at the
bottom of the sea. Miss Edith L. Rosenbaum, writer for a fashion trade
journal, mourned the loss of trunks containing robes from Paris and
Tunis. Several of the late works of Philip Mock, miniature painter,
were in his lost baggage, but the artist was not inclined to dwell on
this mishap.
AN OBJECT OF PITYING SIGHS.
The child of the Montreal Allisons, bereft of both parents and carried
by a nurse, was an object of pitying sighs in the saloon. In the
second cabin, two French children engaged pitying attention. The
two boys, four and two years old, who had lost their mother a year
before and their father the night before, were children of beauty
and intelligence, but were too abashed to answer any questions, even
those put in their native tongue. Their surname is believed to be
Hoffman. They are now in the care of Miss Margaret Hays, of 304 West
Eighty-third street, New York.
Reminiscences of two bridge whist games of Sunday night in the
smoking-room and the lounge room were exchanged by passengers who
believed that the protracted games, a violation of the strict Sabbath
rules of English vessels, saved their lives. Alfred Drachenstadt was
leader in the smoking-room game, Miss Dorothy Gibson in the other.
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.
[Illustration:
PHOTO. BY UNDERWOOD & UNDERWOOD, N. Y.
CAPTAIN SMITH, OF THE “TITANIC” WHO HEROICALLY DID ALL HE COULD DO TO
SAVE WOMEN AND CHILDREN AND THEN LIKE THE TRUE HERO HE WAS WENT DOWN
WITH HIS SHIP.]
[Illustration: COL. JOHN JACOB ASTOR.
GRANDSON OF THE FOUNDER OF THE ASTOR FAMILY IN AMERICA, AFTER PUTTING
HIS YOUNG BRIDE IN A LIFE BOAT HE REMAINED ON THE SHIP AND DIED AS A
HERO.]
[Illustration:
PHOTO BY PAUL THOMPSON, N. Y.
CUNARD LINE STEAMSHIP “CARPATHIA,” WHICH HEARD THE WIRELESS CALL OF
DISTRESS AND WAS FIRST TO REACH THE SCENE OF THE DISASTER AND TAKE ON
BOARD THE SURVIVORS WHO WERE FOUND IN THE LIFEBOATS]
[Illustration: RESCUED PASSENGERS IN ONE OF THE “TITANIC’S”
COLLAPSEABLE LIFE-BOATS WAITING TO BE TAKEN ABOARD THE CARPATHIA.]
[Illustration:
SCENE ON THE UPPER DECK OF THE “TITANIC,” SHOWING LIFE BOATS AS THEY
ARE CARRIED BY ALL STEAMSHIPS. ALL THE PASSENGERS COULD HAVE BEEN
SAVED IF THIS SHIP HAD CARRIED THREE TIMES AS MANY LIFEBOATS.
]
[Illustration: WIRELESS OPERATOR SENDING MESSAGES. BUT FOR THE
WIRELESS, THE “TITANIC’S” PASSENGERS WOULD SURELY HAVE ALL BEEN LOST,
AS THEY COULD NOT HAVE SURVIVED IN SMALL BOATS WITH ICE ALL AROUND
THEM]
[Illustration: MRS. JOHN JACOB ASTOR.
BRIDE OF COLONEL ASTOR WHO WENT DOWN WITH THE TITANIC.]
[Illustration:
HARRIS & EWING
WASHINGTON, D.C.
MAJOR ARCHIBALD BUTT, THE FAMOUS MILITARY AIDE OF TWO
PRESIDENTS--ROOSEVELT AND TAFT. HE BATTLED FOR THE RESCUE OF WOMEN AND
CHILDREN UNTIL THE LAST LIFE BOAT HAD LEFT THE SHIP AND THEN WENT DOWN
WITH THE “TITANIC” LIKE A TRUE HERO.
]
[Illustration: ONE OF THE DE LUXE ROOMS ON THE “TITANIC,” SUCH
WERE OCCUPIED BY JOHN JACOB ASTOR AND HIS BRIDE AND MANY OTHER
MULTI-MILLIONAIRES WHO WENT DOWN WITH THE SHIP]
[Illustration:
PHOTO. BY UNDERWOOD & UNDERWOOD, N. Y.
VIEW OF THE PROMENADE DECK OF THE ILL-FATED WHITE STAR LINER “TITANIC.”
THIS DECK EXTENDS NEARLY THE WHOLE LENGTH OF THE SHIP, AND IS USED AS A
PROMENADE FOR PASSENGERS.]
[Illustration: PART OF THE MAGNIFICENT CONCERT ROOM OF THE STEAMSHIP
“TITANIC,” WHERE WOMEN PASSENGERS SPENT MUCH OF THEIR TIME IN READING
AND LISTENING TO THE MUSIC.]
[Illustration: LUXURIOUSLY FURNISHED SMOKING ROOM OF THE “TITANIC,”
WHERE MEN SPENT MANY SOCIAL HOURS BEFORE GOING TO THEIR WATERY GRAVES]
[Illustration:
PHOTO BY PAUL THOMPSON, N. Y.
CAPTAIN SMITH OF THE “TITANIC,” WHO SAVED MANY WOMEN AND CHILDREN, AND
THEN, LIKE A TRUE HERO, WENT DOWN WITH HIS SHIP. THIS PICTURE ALSO
SHOWS TWO OF HIS OFFICERS]
[Illustration:
PHOTO. BY UNDERWOOD & UNDERWOOD, N. Y.
INTERIOR OF CUNARD LINE PIER, ALL CLEARED OUT READY TO RECEIVE THE
SURVIVORS OF THE “TITANIC,” ON ARRIVAL OF THE “CARPATHIA,” WHERE THEY
WERE MET BY RELATIVES, PHYSICIANS, NURSES AND OTHERS.]
[Illustration:
PHOTO. BY UNDERWOOD & UNDERWOOD, N. Y.
A MOST REMARKABLE PHOTOGRAPH, TAKEN BY A PASSENGER ON THE “CARPATHIA,”
SHOWING MR. AND MRS. HARDER, A YOUNG HONEYMOON COUPLE. WHEN THE CRY
CAME TO GET IN THE LIFEBOATS, THEY, AS A LARK, THINKING THERE WAS NO
DANGER, JUMPED IN THE FIRST BOAT LOWERED.]
[Illustration: J. BRUCE ISMAY, WHITE STAR LINE MANAGER.
MR. ISMAY WAS ON THE “TITANIC” AND HAS BEEN SEVERELY CRITICISED FOR HIS
ACTIONS IN CONNECTION WITH THIS GREAT CALAMITY.]
“I feel better,” Mrs. Futrelle said hours afterward, “for I can cry
now.”
Among the men, conversation centred 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. The failure of the safety
compartments, said to have been closed from the bridge directly after
the accident, was the occasion of amazement, and one theory offered was
that the doors had, for some reason, not closed in the usual manner.
Others contended that these devices are, at best, but time-savers, and
said that without them the Titanic would have gone under before three
boats could have been lowered.
THE OFFICERS’ REQUIREMENTS DISCUSSED.
The requirement that the officers on the bridge should take
temperatures of the water every fifteen minutes to indicate the
approach of ice was also discussed.
As to the behavior of officers and crew, not a word of complaint was
heard from the men. They were praised as worthy Britons and true
seamen. In the same breath the survivors exalted the heroism of the
missing men of the first cabin, who had stood calmly waiting for their
turn--the turn which, because of scarcity of boats and shortness of
time, never came for most of them.
“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.
As the day passed, the fore part of the ship assumed some degree of
order and comfort, but the crowded second cabin and 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.
At 4 P. M. Monday the service for the dead was read by Father Roger
Anderson, of the Episcopal Order of the Holy Cross, over the bodies of
three seamen and one man, said to have been a cabin passenger, who were
dead from exposure when received on this ship. Some of the Titanic’s
passengers turned away from the rail as the first of the weighted forms
fell into the water.
[Illustration: The Titans
_By RICHARD J. BEAMISH_
_“And most who drowned were men.” ’Tis good to read
These strong fair words. They tell of manhood tried.
Of those who saw the weak ones safe, then died.
Rake muck, sneer slurs. You can’t paint black the breed
That smiled at Death in that heroic deed.
Poor men forgot their lot; the rich, their pride.
Like gods, they struggled o’er the rising tide
For others’ lives; their own, they scorned to heed.
Then kindly Night shut out their tragedy.
God send the words to flame their message through
The grieving world: “For inasmuch as ye
Help thus My helpless ones, ye helpeth Me.”
They sleep where Love and Death both found them true,
Their names as deathless as their shrine, the sea._
]