CHAPTER XXIII

"WOMEN AND CHILDREN FIRST!"

COOL-HEADED OFFICERS AND CREW BRING ORDER OUT OF CHAOS -- FILLING

THE LIFE-BOATS -- HEARTRENDING SCENES AS FAMILIES ARE PARTED --

FOUR LIFE-BOATS LOST -- INCIDENTS OF BRAVERY -- "THE BOATS ARE ALL

FILLED!"

ONCE on the deck, many hesitated to enter the swinging life-boats. 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, a Montreal banker, laughed at the warning, and his wife,

reassured by him, took her time dressing. They and their daughter did

not reach the Carpathia. Their son, less than two years old, was

carried into a life-boat by his nurse, and was taken in charge by

Major Arthur Peuchen.

THE LIFE-BOATS LOWERED

The admiration felt by the passengers and crew for the matchlessly

appointed vessel was translated, in those first few moments, into a

confidence which for some proved deadly. The pulsing of the engines

had ceased, and the steamship lay just as though she were awaiting the

order to go on again after some trifling matter had been adjusted. But

in a few minutes the canvas covers were lifted from the life-boats and

the crews allotted to each standing by, ready to lower them to the

water.

Nearly all the boats that were lowered on the port side of the ship

touched the water without capsizing. Four of the others lowered to

starboard, including one collapsible, were capsized. All, however, who

were in the collapsible boats that practically went to pieces, were

rescued by the other boats.

Presently the order was heard: "All men stand back and all women

retire to the deck below." That was the smoking-room deck, or the B

deck. The men stood away and remained in absolute silence, leaning

against the rail or pacing up and down the deck slowly. Many of them

lighted cigars or cigarettes and began to smoke.

LOADING THE BOATS

The boats were swung out and lowered from the A deck above. The women

were marshaled quietly in lines along the B deck, and when the boats

were lowered down to the level of the latter the women were assisted

to climb into them.

As each of the boats was filled with its quota of passengers the word

was given and it was carefully lowered down to the dark surface of the

water.

Nobody seemed to know how Mr. Ismay got into a boat, but it was

assumed that he wished to make a presentation of the case of the

Titanic to his company. He was among those who apparently realized

that the splendid ship was doomed. All hands in the life-boats, under

instructions from officers and men in charge, were rowed a

considerable distance from the ship herself in order to get far away

from the possible suction that would follow her foundering.

COOLEST MEN ON BOARD

Captain Smith and Major Archibald Butt, military aide to the President

of the United States, were among the coolest men on board. A number of

steerage passengers were yelling and screaming and fighting to get to

the boats. Officers drew guns and told them that if they moved towards

the boats they would be shot dead. Major Butt had a gun in his hand

and covered the men who tried to get to the boats.

The following story of his bravery was told by Mrs. Henry B. Harris,

wife of the theatrical manager:

"The world should rise in praise of Major Butt. That man's conduct

will remain in my memory forever. The American army is honored by him

and the way he taught some of the other men how to behave when women

and children were suffering that awful mental fear of death. Major

Butt was near me and I noticed everything that he did.

"When the order to man the boats came, the captain whispered

something to Major Butt. The two of them had become friends. The major

immediately became as one in supreme command. You would have thought

he was at a White House reception. A dozen or more women became

hysterical all at once, as something connected with a life-boat went

wrong. Major Butt stepped over to them and said:

"'Really, you must not act like that; we are all going to see you

through this thing.' He helped the sailors rearrange the rope or chain

that had gone wrong and lifted some of the women in with a touch of

gallantry. Not only was there a complete lack of any fear in his

manner, but there was the action of an aristocrat.

"When the time came he was a man to be feared. In one of the earlier

boats fifty women, it seemed, were about to be lowered, when a man,

suddenly panic-stricken, ran to the stern of it. Major Butt shot one

arm out, caught him by the back of the neck and jerked him backward

like a pillow. His head cracked against a rail and he was stunned.

"'Sorry,' said Major Butt, 'women will be attended to first or I'll

break every damned bone in your body.'

[Illustration: ON THE BRIDGE OF THE EMPRESS OF IRELAND

The ship's officers are taking the noon observation to ascertain

the position of the ship. At the right are the engine-room and

wheel-house "telegraphs." By moving the levers the officers

controlled the movements of the ship with absolute precision.]

[Illustration: SCENE ON DECK

Showing the spacious decks and easy steamer chairs. It was not far

from this point that the "Storstad" struck the death-blow.]

FORCED MEN USURPING PLACES TO VACATE

"The boats were lowered one by one, and as I stood by, my husband said

to me, 'Thank God, for Archie Butt.' Perhaps Major Butt heard it, for

he turned his face towards us for a second and smiled. Just at that

moment, a young man was arguing to get into a life-boat, and Major

Butt had a hold of the lad by the arm, like a big brother, and was

telling him to keep his head and be a man.

"Major Butt helped those poor frightened steerage people so

wonderfully, so tenderly and yet with such cool and manly firmness

that he prevented the loss of many lives from panic. He was a soldier

to the last. He was one of God's greatest noblemen, and I think I can

say he was an example of bravery even to men on the ship."

LAST WORDS OF MAJOR BUTT

Miss Marie Young, who was a music instructor to President Roosevelt's

children and had known Major Butt during the Roosevelt occupancy of

the White House, told this story of his heroism.

"Archie himself put me into the boat, wrapped blankets about me and

tucked me in as carefully as if we were starting on a motor ride. He,

himself, entered the boat with me, performing the little courtesies as

calmly and with as smiling a face as if death were far away, instead

of being but a few moments removed from him.

"When he had carefully wrapped me up he stepped upon the gunwale of

the boat, and lifting his hat, smiled down at me. 'Good-bye, Miss

Young,' he said. 'Good luck to you, and don't forget to remember me to

the folks back home.' Then he stepped back and waved his hand to me as

the boat was lowered. I think I was the last woman he had a chance to

help, for the boat went down shortly after we cleared the suction

zone."

COLONEL ASTOR ANOTHER HERO

Colonel Astor was another of the heroes of the awful night. Effort was

made to persuade him to take a place in one of the life-boats, but he

emphatically refused to do so until every woman and child on board had

been provided for, not excepting the women members of the ship's

company.

One of the passengers describing the consummate courage of Colonel

Astor said:

"He led Mrs. Astor to the side of the ship and helped her to the

life-boat to which she had been assigned. I saw that she was

prostrated and said she would remain and take her chances with him,

but Colonel Astor quietly insisted and tried to reassure her in a few

words. As she took her place in the boat her eyes were fixed upon him.

Colonel Astor smiled, touched his cap, and when the boat moved safely

away from the ship's side he turned back to his place among the men."

Mrs. Ida S. Hippach and her daughter Jean, survivors of the Titanic,

said they were saved by Colonel John Jacob Astor, who forced the crew

of the last life-boat to wait for them.

"We saw Colonel Astor place Mrs. Astor in a boat and assure her that

he would follow later," said Mrs. Hippach.

"He turned to us with a smile and said, 'Ladies, you are next.' The

officer in charge of the boat protested that the craft was full, and

the seamen started to lower it.

"Colonel Astor exclaimed, 'Hold that boat,' in the voice of a man

accustomed to be obeyed, and they did as he ordered. The boat had

been lowered past the upper deck and the colonel took us to the deck

below and put us in the boat, one after the other, through a

port-hole."

[Illustration: THE NATURE OF THE INJURY SUSTAINED BY THE TITANIC]

HEART-BREAKING SCENES

There were some terrible scenes. Fathers were parting from their

children and giving them an encouraging pat on the shoulders; men were

kissing their wives and telling them that they would be with them

shortly. One man said there was absolutely no danger, that the boat

was the finest ever built, with water-tight compartments, and that it

could not sink. That seemed to be the general impression.

A few of the men, however, were panic-stricken even when the first of

the fifty-six foot life-boats was being filled. Fully ten men threw

themselves into the boats already crowded with women and children.

These men were dragged back and hurled sprawling across the deck. Six

of them, screaming with fear, struggled to their feet and made a

second attempt to rush to the boats.

About ten shots sounded in quick succession. The six cowardly men were

stopped in their tracks, staggered and collapsed one after another. At

least two of them vainly attempted to creep toward the boats again.

The others lay quite still. This scene of bloodshed served its

purpose. In that particular section of the deck there was no further

attempt to violate the rule of "women and children first."

"I helped fill the boats with women," said Thomas Whiteley, who was a

waiter on the Titanic. "Collapsible boat No. 2 on the starboard

jammed. The second officer was hacking at the ropes with a knife and I

was being dragged around the deck by that rope when I looked up and

saw the boat, with all aboard, turn turtle. In some way I got

overboard myself and clung to an oak dresser. I wasn't more than

sixty feet from the Titanic when she went down. Her big stern rose up

in the air and she went down bow first. I saw all the machinery drop

out of her."

HENRY B. HARRIS

Henry B. Harris, of New York, a theatrical manager, was one of the men

who showed superb courage in the crisis. When the life-boats were

first being filled, and before there was any panic, Mr. Harris went to

the side of his wife before the boat was lowered away.

"Women first," shouted one of the ship's officers. Mr. Harris glanced

up and saw that the remark was addressed to him.

"All right," he replied coolly. "Good-bye, my dear," he said, as he

kissed his wife, pressed her a moment to his breast, and then climbed

back to the Titanic's deck.

THREE EXPLOSIONS

Up to this time there had been no panic; but about one hour before the

ship plunged to the bottom there were three separate explosions of

bulkheads as the vessel filled. These were at intervals of about

fifteen minutes. From that time there was a different scene. The rush

for the remaining boats became a stampede.

The stokers rushed up from below and tried to beat a path through the

steerage men and women and through the sailors and officers, to get

into the boats. They had their iron bars and shovels, and they struck

down all who stood in their way.

The first to come up from the depths of the ship was an engineer. From

what he is reported to have said it is probable that the steam

fittings were broken and many were scalded to death when the Titanic

lifted. He said he had to dash through a narrow place beside a broken

pipe and his back was frightfully scalded.

Right at his heels came the stokers. The officers had pistols, but

they could not use them at first for fear of killing the women and

children. The sailors fought with their fists and many of them took

the stoke bars and shovels from the stokers and used them to beat back

the others.

Many of the coal-passers and stokers who had been driven back from the

boats went to the rail, and whenever a boat was filled and lowered

several of them jumped overboard and swam toward it trying to climb

aboard. Several of the survivors said that men who swam to the sides

of their boats were pulled in or climbed in.

Dozens of the cabin passengers were witnesses of some of the frightful

scenes on the steerage deck. The steerage survivors said that ten

women from the upper decks were the only cool passengers in the

life-boat, and they tried to quiet the steerage women, who were nearly

all crazed with fear and grief.

OTHER HEROES

Among the chivalrous young heroes of the Titanic disaster were

Washington A. Roebling, 2d, and Howard Case, London representative of

the Vacuum Oil Company. Both were urged repeatedly to take places in

life-boats, but scorned the opportunity, while working against time to

save the women aboard the ill-fated ship. They went to their death, it

is said by survivors, with smiles on their faces.

Both of these young men aided in the saving of Mrs. William T. Graham,

wife of the president of the American Can Company, and Mrs. Graham's

nineteen-year-old daughter, Margaret.

Afterwards relating some of her experiences Mrs. Graham said:

"There was a rap at the door. It was a passenger whom we had met

shortly after the ship left Liverpool, and his name was

Roebling--Washington A. Roebling, 2d. He was a gentleman and a brave

man. He warned us of the danger and told us that it would be best to

be prepared for an emergency. We heeded his warning, and I looked out

of my window and saw a great big iceberg facing us. Immediately I knew

what had happened and we lost no time after that to get out into the

saloon.

"In one of the gangways I met an officer of the ship.

"'What is the matter?' I asked him.

"'We've only burst two pipes,' he said. 'Everything is all right,

don't worry.'

"'But what makes the ship list so?' I asked.

"'Oh, that's nothing,' he replied, and walked away.

"Mr. Case advised us to get into a boat.

"'And what are you going to do?' we asked him.

"'Oh,' he replied, 'I'll take a chance and stay here.'

"Just at that time they were filling up the third life-boat on the

port side of the ship. I thought at the time that it was the third

boat which had been lowered, but I found out later that they had

lowered other boats on the other side, where the people were more

excited because they were sinking on that side.

"Just then Mr. Roebling came up, too, and told us to hurry and get

into the third boat. Mr. Roebling and Mr. Case bustled our party of

three into that boat in less time than it takes to tell it. They were

both working hard to help the women and children. The boat was fairly

crowded when we three were pushed into it, and a few men jumped in at

the last moment, but Mr. Roebling and Mr. Case stood at the rail and

made no attempt to get into the boat.

"They shouted good-bye to us. What do you think Mr. Case did then? He

just calmly lighted a cigarette and waved us good-bye with his hand.

Mr. Roebling stood there, too--I can see him now. I am sure that he

knew that the ship would go to the bottom. But both just stood there."

IN THE FACE OF DEATH

Scenes on the sinking vessel grew more tragic as the remaining

passengers faced the awful certainty that death must be the portion of

the majority, death in the darkness of a wintry sea studded with its

ice monuments like the marble shafts in some vast cemetery.

In that hour, when cherished illusions of possible safety had all but

vanished, manhood and womanhood aboard the Titanic rose to their

sublimest heights. It was in that crisis of the direst extremity that

many brave women deliberately rejected life and chose rather to remain

and die with the men whom they loved.

DEATH FAILS TO PART MR. AND MRS. STRAUS

"I will not leave my husband," said Mrs. Isidor Straus. "We are old;

we can best die together," and she turned from those who would have

forced her into one of the boats and clung to the man who had been the

partner of her joys and sorrows. Thus they stood hand in hand and

heart to heart, comforting each other until the sea claimed them,

united in death as they had been through a long life.

"_Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for

his friends._"

Miss Elizabeth Evans fulfilled this final test of affection laid down

by the Divine Master. The girl was the niece of the wife of Magistrate

Cornell, of New York. She was placed in the same boat with many other

women. As it was about to be lowered away it was found that the craft

contained one more than its full quota of passengers.

The grim question arose as to which of them should surrender her place

and her chance of safety. Beside Miss Evans sat Mrs. J. J. Brown, of

Denver, the mother of several children. Miss Evans was the first to

volunteer to yield to another.

GIRL STEPS BACK TO DOOM

"Your need is greater than mine," said she to Mrs. Brown. "You have

children who need you, and I have none."

So saying she arose from the boat and stepped back upon the deck. The

girl found no later refuge and was one of those who went down with the

ship. She was twenty-five years old and was beloved by all who knew

her.

Mrs. Brown thereafter showed the spirit which had made her also

volunteer to leave the boat. There were only three men in the boat and

but one of them rowed. Mrs. Brown, who was raised on the water,

immediately picked up one of the heavy sweeps and began to pull.

In the boat which carried Mrs. Cornell and Mrs. Appleton there were

places for seventeen more than were carried. This too was undermanned

and the two women at once took their places at the oars.

The Countess of Rothes was pulling at the oars of her boat, likewise

undermanned because the crew preferred to stay behind.

Miss Bentham, of Rochester, showed splendid courage. She happened to

be in a life-boat which was very much crowded--so much so that one

sailor had to sit with his feet dangling in the icy cold water, and as

time went on the sufferings of the man from the cold were apparent.

Miss Bentham arose from her place and had the man turn around while

she took her place with her feet in the water.

Scarcely any of the life-boats were properly manned. Two, filled with

women and children, capsized immediately, while the collapsible boats

were only temporarily useful. They soon filled with water. In one boat

eighteen or twenty persons sat in water above their knees for six

hours.

Eight men in this boat were overcome, died and were thrown overboard.

Two women were in this boat, and one succumbed after a few hours and

one was saved.

The accident was reported as entirely the result of carelessness and

lack of necessary equipment. There were boats for only one third of

the passengers, there were no search lights; the life-boats were not

supplied with food or safety appliances; there were no lanterns on the

life-boats; there was no way to raise sails, as there was no one who

understood managing a sailboat.

Mrs. Hogeboom explained that the new equipment of masts and sails in

the boats was carefully wrapped and bound with twine. The men

undertook to unfasten them, but found it necessary to cut the ropes.

They had no knives, and in their frenzy they went about asking the

ill-clad women if they had knives. The sails were never hoisted.

THE MONEY BOAT

Thomas Whiteley, a first saloon steward, in telling of various

experiences of the disaster that had come to his knowledge, said that

on one of the first boats lowered the only passengers aboard were a

man whom he was told was an American millionaire, his wife, child and

two valets. The others in the boat were firemen and coal trimmers, he

said, seven in number, whom the man had promised to pay well if they

would man the life-boat. They made only thirteen in all.

"I do not know the man's name," said Whiteley. "I heard it, but have

forgotten it. But I saw an order for five pounds which this man gave

to each of the crew of his boat after they got aboard the Carpathia.

It was on a piece of ordinary paper addressed to the Coutts Bank of

England.

"We called that boat the 'money boat.' It was lowered from the

starboard side and was one of the first off. Our orders were to load

the life-boats beginning forward on the port side, working aft and

then back on the starboard. This man paid the firemen to lower a

starboard boat before the officers had given the order."

Whiteley's own experience was a hard one. When the uncoiling rope,

which entangled his feet, threw him into the sea, it furrowed the

flesh of his leg, but he did not feel the pain until he was safe

aboard the Carpathia.

"I floated on my life-preserver for several hours," he said, "then I

came across a big oak dresser with two men clinging to it. I hung on

to this till daybreak and the two men dropped off. When the sun came

up I saw the collapsible raft in the distance, just black with men.

They were all standing up, and I swam to it--almost a mile, it seemed

to me--and they would not let me aboard. Mr. Lightoller, the second

officer, was one of them.

"'It's thirty-one lives against yours,' he said, 'you can't come

aboard. There's not room.'

"I pleaded with him in vain, and then I confess I prayed that somebody

might die, so I could take his place. It was only human. And then some

one did die, and they let me aboard.

"By and by, we saw seven life-boats lashed together, and we were

taken into them."

MEN SHOT DOWN

The officers had to assert their authority by force, and three

foreigners from the steerage who tried to force their way in among the

women and children were shot down without mercy.

Robert Daniel, a Philadelphia passenger, told of terrible scenes at

this period of the disaster. He said men fought and bit and struck one

another like madmen, and exhibited wounds upon his face to prove the

assertion. Mr. Daniel said that he was picked up naked from the

ice-cold water and almost perished from exposure before he was

rescued. He and others told how the Titanic's bow was completely torn

away by the impact with the berg.

K. Whiteman, of Palmyra, N. J., the Titanic's barber, was lowering

boats on deck after the collision, and declared the officers on the

bridge, one of them First Officer Murdock, promptly worked the

electrical apparatus for closing the water-tight compartments. He

believed the machinery was in some way so damaged by the crash that

the front compartments failed to close tightly, although the rear ones

were secure.

Whiteman's manner of escape was unique. He was blown off the deck by

the second of the two explosions of the boilers, and was in the water

more than two hours before he was picked up by a raft.

"The explosions," Whiteman said, "were caused by the rushing in of

the icy water on the boilers. A bundle of deck chairs, roped together,

was blown off the deck with me, and I struck my back, injuring my

spine, but it served as a temporary raft.

"The crew and passengers had faith in the bulkhead system to save the

ship and we were lowering a collapsible boat, all confident the ship

would get through, when she took a terrific dip forward and the water

swept over the deck and into the engine rooms.

"The bow went clean down, and I caught the pile of chairs as I was

washed up against the rim. Then came the explosions which blew me

fifteen feet.

"After the water had filled the forward compartments, the ones at the

stern could not save her, although they did delay the ship's going

down. If it wasn't for the compartments hardly anyone could have got

away."

A SAD MESSAGE

One of the Titanic's stewards, Johnson by name, carried this message

to the sorrowing widow of Benjamin Guggenheim:

"When Mr. Guggenheim realized that there was grave danger," said the

room steward, "he advised his secretary, who also died, to dress fully

and he himself did the same. Mr. Guggenheim, who was cool and

collected as he was pulling on his outer garments, said to the

steward:--

PREPARED TO DIE BRAVELY

"'I think there is grave doubt that the men will get off safely. I am

willing to remain and play the man's game, if there are not enough

boats for more than the women and children. I won't die here like a

beast. I'll meet my end as a man.'

"There was a pause and then Mr. Guggenheim continued:

"'Tell my wife, Johnson, if it should happen that my secretary and I

both go down and you are saved, tell her I played the game out

straight and to the end. No woman shall be left aboard this ship

because Ben Guggenheim was a coward.

"'Tell her that my last thoughts will be of her and of our girls, but

that my duty now is to these unfortunate women and children on this

ship. Tell her I will meet whatever fate is in store for me, knowing

she will approve of what I do.'"

In telling the story the room steward said the last he saw of Mr.

Guggenheim was when he stood fully dressed upon the upper deck talking

calmly with Colonel Astor and Major Butt.

Before the last of the boats got away, according to some of the

passengers' narratives, there were more than fifty shots fired upon

the decks by officers or others in the effort to maintain the

discipline that until then had been well preserved.

THE SINKING VESSEL

Richard Norris Williams, Jr., one of the survivors of the Titanic, saw

his father killed by being crushed by one of the tremendous funnels of

the sinking vessel.

"We stood on deck watching the life-boats of the Titanic being filled

and lowered into the water," said Mr. Williams. "The water was nearly

up to our waists and the ship was about at her last. Suddenly one of

the great funnels fell. I sprang aside, endeavoring to pull father

with me. A moment later the funnel was swept overboard and the body of

father went with it.

"I sprang overboard and swam through the ice to a life-raft, and was

pulled aboard. There were five men and one woman on the raft.

Occasionally we were swept off into the sea, but always managed to

crawl back.

"A sailor lighted a cigarette and flung the match carelessly among the

women. Several screamed, fearing they would be set on fire. The sailor

replied: 'We are going to hell anyway and we might as well be cremated

now as then.'"

A huge cake of ice was the means of aiding Emile Portaleppi, of Italy,

in his hairbreadth escape from death when the Titanic went down.

Portaleppi, a second class passenger, was awakened by the explosion of

one of the bulkheads of the ship. He hurried to the deck, strapped a

life-preserver around him and leaped into the sea. With the aid of the

preserver and by holding to a cake of ice he managed to keep afloat

until one of the life-boats picked him up. There were thirty-five

other people in the boat, he said, when he was hauled aboard.

THE COWARD

Somewhere in the shadow of the appalling Titanic disaster

slinks--still living by the inexplicable grace of God--a cur in human

shape, to-day the most despicable human being in all the world.

[Illustration: A VIEW OF THE OLYMPIC

The sister-ship of the Titanic, showing the damage done to her

hull in the collision with British war vessel, Hawke, in the

British Channel.]

[Illustration: VESSEL WITH BOTTOM OF HULL RIPPED OPEN

A view of the torpedo destroyer Tiger, taken in drydock after her

collision with the Portland Breakwater last September; the damage

to the Tiger, which is plainly shown in the photograph, is of the

same character, though on a smaller scale, as that which was done

to the Titanic.]

In that grim midnight hour, already great in history, he found

himself hemmed in by the band of heroes whose watchword and

countersign rang out across the deep--"Women and children first!"

What did he do? He scuttled to the stateroom deck, put on a woman's

skirt, a woman's hat and a woman's veil, and picking his crafty way

back among the brave and chivalric men who guarded the rail of the

doomed ship, he filched a seat in one of the life-boats and saved his

skin.

His name is on that list of branded rescued men who were neither

picked up from the sea when the ship went down nor were in the boats

under orders to help get them safe away. His identity is not yet

known, though it will be in good time. So foul an act as that will out

like murder.

The eyes of strong men who have read this crowded record of golden

deeds, who have read and re-read that deathless roll of honor of the

dead, are still wet with tears of pity and of pride. This man still

lives. Surely he was born and saved to set for men a new standard by

which to measure infamy and shame.

It is well that there was sufficient heroism on board the Titanic to

neutralize the horrors of the cowardice. When the first order was

given for the men to stand back, there were a dozen or more who pushed

forward and said that men would be needed to row the life-boats and

that they would volunteer for the work.

The officers tried to pick out the ones that volunteered merely for

service and to eliminate those who volunteered merely to save their

own lives. This elimination process, however, was not wholly

successful.

THE DOOMED MEN

As the ship began to settle to starboard, heeling at an angle of

nearly forty-five degrees, those who had believed it was all right to

stick by the ship began to have doubts, and a few jumped into the sea.

They were followed immediately by others, and in a few minutes there

were scores swimming around. Nearly all of them wore life-preservers.

One man, who had a Pomeranian dog, leaped overboard with it and

striking a piece of wreckage was badly stunned. He recovered after a

few minutes and swam toward one of the life-boats and was taken

aboard.

Said one survivor, speaking of the men who remained on the ship:

"There they stood--Major Butt, Colonel Astor waving a farewell to his

wife; Mr. Thayer, Mr. Case, Mr. Clarence Moore, Mr. Widener, all

multimillionaires, and hundreds of other men, bravely smiling at us

all. Never have I seen such chivalry and fortitude. Such courage in

the face of fate horrible to contemplate filled us even then with

wonder and admiration."

Why were men saved? ask others who seek to make the occasional male

survivor a hissing scorn; and yet the testimony makes it clear that

for a long time during that ordeal the more frightful position seemed

to many to be in the frail boats in the vast relentless sea, and that

some men had to be tumbled into the boats under orders from the

officers. Others express the deepest indignation that 210 sailors

were rescued; the testimony shows that most of these sailors were in

the welter of ice and water into which they had been thrown from the

ship's deck when she sank; they were human beings and so were picked

up and saved.

"WOMEN AND CHILDREN FIRST"

The one alleviating circumstance in the otherwise immitigable tragedy

is the fact that so many of the men stood aside really without the

necessity for the order, "Women and children first," and insisted that

the weaker sex 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.

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 Sunday night. The heroism was

that of the women who went, as well as of the men who remained!

The Tragic Story of the Empress of Ireland, and Other Great Sea Disasters · 第 23 / 31 章