Voices from the Titanic

by Geoff Tibballs

  As the lifeboat was lowered away the officer kept continually firing his revolver, from deck to deck until he got below deck level.

  Similar instances of firing occurred on the port side. A man whom I took to be a saloon passenger tried to claim a seat in one of the boats. The officer told him to leave, and as the man hesitated, the revolver rang out and his body fell into the sea.

  I then went for’s’d on the port side, and I was passing through the bridge when I saw Capt. Smith speaking to Mr Andrews, the designer of the Titanic. I stopped to listen. I was still confident that the ship was unsinkable, but when I heard Capt. Smith say: ‘We cannot stay any longer; she is going!’ I fainted against the starboard side of the bridge entrance.

  After some minutes I recovered sufficiently to realize that unless I got into a boat or swam for it, there would be no chance of being saved.

  I then went to launch one of the collapsible boats which had been eased down off the top decks on the starboard side. We found, when we tried to swing her in the davits, that she was wedged between the winch of the davits and the spar – which helped to ease her down from the lower deck, which is the deck below the boat deck.

  The next thing I remember was the ship suddenly dipping, and the waves rushing up and engulfing me. After ten seconds the Titanic again righted herself, but then I saw that everyone who a minute before had been attempting to lower away, except myself, had been swept into the fo’castle head. I saved myself by clinging on to the davit winch.

  I looked down the fo’castle, and saw the most horrible, heartrending scenes I have ever witnessed. There were women and children and firemen and stewards all fighting, shrieking for help in their death struggles. I got on the other side of the winch which was towards the after-part of the vessel, and levered myself up on to the deck.

  Then I went to the edge of the ship and jumped into the icy water. In order to escape the suction which I surmised would be caused by the sinking of the gigantic liner, I struck out for very life. I swam from the ship as the for’s’d was sinking. I did not feel any suction.

  I am a strong swimmer, and I had managed to keep afloat quite twenty minutes, when I got on to an overturned lifeboat, on which was Officer Lightoller and a number of other people. We drifted about until daybreak, when we were sighted by No. 12 lifeboat of the Titanic. Then we rowed towards the Carpathia, which loomed into sight, and were taken on board at 7.30 a.m.

  Questioned as to other details of the disaster, Fitzpatrick said he heard the band playing a hymn at the last moment, but as he was a Catholic he failed to recognize the tune.

  ‘I was the next to the last man to leave the doomed ship,’ he remarked. The last man climbed up the poop.

  When Fitzpatrick was in the water he saw the Titanic stick her screws and propellers high into the air, and he heard her go down with a swish – ‘as clean a dive as ever was made by a fish.’

  As to the engineers, he said: ‘Every man Jack stuck to his post to the end. I am the only one of that section of the ship’s crew saved out of forty-one.’

  (Western Daily Mercury, 29 April 1912)

  SOME LOCAL INCIDENTS POLICE OFFICERS WITH A WARRANT FOR A MISSING MAN

  There were many incidents of note during the day, and one very exciting escape from drowning in the Sound. While the mails were being transferred to the Sir Francis Drake in Cawsand Bay, one of the bags fell overboard. A seaman from the Lapland was slung over the side by a rope in an attempt to recover it, but the rope was short, and the man, who could not swim, fell into the sea. Instantly a lifeline was thrown him from the Drake, and he clambered inboard, none the worse for his ducking.

  The Chief Constable of Plymouth (Mr J. D. Sowerby) and Detective Inspector Hitchcock visited the docks for the purpose of performing an unpleasant task. They had a warrant for the arrest of one of the crew, issued by his wife, for failing to keep up payments in respect of a maintenance order. Mr Sowerby and Mr Hitchcock interviewed a man of the same name, but the description did not correspond with the man who is wanted, and there is little doubt that the unfortunate fellow is among those who were drowned.

  Each of the crew received 7s 6d or 6s 6d yesterday from the Board of Trade, according to their rating. A sum of £300 sent from America by a lady will be divided among the crew on the way to their homes.

  (Western Daily Mercury, 29 April 1912)

  TITANIC SURVIVORS ARRIVE

  A large number of the survivors of the Titanic’s crew were landed at Plymouth yesterday by the Lapland.

  Some of them had amazing stories to tell. One of them spoke of a millionaire who offered 5000 dollars if he could be saved.

  Another described the escape of a wealthy man and his wife in the emergency boat, and added that there was a distribution of cheques on the Carpathia.

  It appears that great difficulty was experienced in getting some of the third-class passengers and crew to believe that the liner was in peril, and the survivors say that many perished through disregarding the warnings given.

  Of the ‘black squad’ on duty at the time of the disaster only very few were saved. They drew the fires to prevent the boilers exploding, and before they got out the water was above their waists.

  On being put ashore the men whose depositions had been taken were free to roam about the dockyard, and many of them made for the gates outside which friends and townspeople were congregated. Many affectionate reunions took place in spite of the barrier between.

  Comedy and tragedy went hand in hand. A pale youth from the stokehold leaning against the gates told his friends of the loss of his brother. ‘He was in the watch down below at the time we struck,’ he said. ‘I was in the watch which was to relieve him at midnight. As I started to go down I found the water rising in the stoke-hold. It being impossible for me to get below, I went on deck. I never saw my brother again.’

  A young steward said his chief memory of the disaster was the nonchalance that prevailed. ‘Lots of us who turned out when we felt the first shock of the collision went back to our bunks again, thinking nothing had happened,’ he said. ‘For some of them the sleep to which they returned proved to be the last sleep, I think.’

  Many of the New York stories that have been regarded as inventions found corroboration among the crew.

  ‘I heard one millionaire who was offering 5000 dollars if he could be saved,’ one man told me. ‘I didn’t hear him myself, but it was all the talk among our gang. Some of them heard it. Today the American papers are printing the man’s name in letters a foot long as a national hero.’

  Another man, one of the firemen, spoke of a wealthy man who escaped in what is called the emergency boat – that is a boat which is kept ready for prompt lowering in case of ‘man overboard’.

  ‘He got his wife and family and some friends into that boat and got it lowered, promising the men who were rowing £5 apiece. The morning after we were picked up by the Carpathia the boat’s crew was summoned to the saloon deck, and there received the money, in cheques.’

  (Daily Sketch, 29 April 1912)

  On landing at Plymouth, an unnamed steward in the first-class saloon tried to separate fact from fiction.

  The millionaires certainly did not run the ship and all talk of Maj. Butt and Mr Astor introducing a system and seeing after the boats is entirely wrong. I saw them all the time, and they were just standing by and doing what they were told like anyone else. They did not, however, show any sign of panic.

  Until the very end no one had any idea how serious the affair was. The only panic was among the Dagoes, one of whom I did see shot through the chin. As for the ladies, they behaved splendidly during the disaster, but told some terrible falsehoods after. The stories of their having helped in the rowing are much exaggerated. In my own boat, a dinghy, a lady put her arm on my shoulder, and I dare say she thought she was helping me. The difficulty all through was to get them into the boats, and several of them I had personally to throw head foremost in.

  If you ask me who wer
e the real heroes of the disaster I should say certainly Colonel Gracie, the best American there. Then there was Mr Andrews, one of the designers of the ship, who was here, there and everywhere, helping always and never troubling about his own life. He did not even put on a lifebelt nor, of course, did Captain Smith, who behaved splendidly. Captain Smith’s last words were not ‘Be British’ although by sentiment they might have been: they were, ‘I’m finished. Look after yourselves.’

  Murdoch was splendid too, but I fear it is true that he did shoot himself. He did not do so, however, till the very end, when he had done everything he could for others.

  Another hero was old Freeman, the deck steward, who to the very last was tying deck chairs together as hard as he could and throwing them overboard to serve as rafts for the people who had dived. He could easily have saved his own life, but did not seem to think of it.

  (Daily Chronicle, 29 April 1912)

  THE WRONG NAME

  Tragic Disappointment of a Waiting Woman

  From dawn this morning till darkness Southampton has been anxiously awaiting the return of the Titanic survivors. Among those on the steamer Lapland were 150 Southampton people.

  The most pathetic incident of the day was a terrible misunderstanding. A Mrs F. W. Barrett, whose husband was on the Titanic, had received a message from New York saying that her husband was saved and was on his way home.

  She had prepared to meet him, and was even informed that he was travelling in the train from Plymouth.

  This afternoon, however, Mrs Barrett received a telegram stating that the traveller was not her husband, but another man with the same name. Mrs Barrett gave birth to twins two days after the wreck of the Titanic.

  (Daily Graphic, 29 April 1912)

  HEROES AND VICTIMS

  Inquiries among other survivors brought to light several instances of heroic self-sacrifice. When the vessel took her last terrible plunge, two young stewards, who had been awaiting the event together, found themselves still companions in the icy water. They had been chums on board, and they determined to make their bid for life together. One, stronger than his friend and a good swimmer, set out in the darkness, helping his shipmate with his strength and encouraging words. Though not seen he was heard to say: ‘Keep your pecker up, old man, or you’ll never see Southampton.’ The next minute they were hauled into a boat, one at each end. Both were exhausted, and for one the ordeal had been too much. The man of weaker frame had succumbed when his body was lifted on to the Carpathia.

  Another grim tragedy, more tragic, because it happened hidden away in the depths of the Titanic, amidst the din of the reversed engines. One of the engineers hurrying to a point of duty, and observing that a plate had been removed, stepped into an opening and broke his leg – according to some, both legs. He lay groaning and helpless, when a leading hand and a greaser, putting aside all thoughts of their own safety, carried him to the power-room, where he remained.

  With the greaser, the poor fellow went down with the ship, unable to help himself even if opportunity had offered. The leading hand was more fortunate.

  When the full story of the Titanic is unfolded, these displays of magnificent pluck will be found unsurpassed. For instance, nothing could be finer than the resolute nobility of the engineer who swam up to an already fully laden boat just at the moment that the last cries of the victims were ringing in the ears of the survivors. He came up to the side of the boat.

  ‘Don’t come to us, or we shall all go,’ the occupants yelled.

  With a display of self-possession that nothing could exceed, he shouted back, ‘Don’t mind me; go on.’ Though the alternative was death, he made no attempt to grasp the gunwale, and he was lost to view.

  THE CHILD SAVES THE FATHER

  A brighter incident may be recorded here. A boat was about to be lowered away. ‘More women and children,’ had been shouted. The only response was that of a father who stepped forward with his child in his arms. He wished to place the little one in the boat and remain on board, but the child clung to him frantically. The occupants of the boat exhorted him to come as well, and he yielded. A few moments sufficed, and the child had saved his father.

  One of the crew, who has crossed the Atlantic many times, was openly incredulous regarding the story that some well-known ocean gamblers escaped in women’s clothing, which they had bought from stewards, but he admitted that men of that class were on board the Titanic, and expressed surprise to find them afterwards on the Carpathia.

  A Mercury reporter had a chat with Mr B. Thomas, one of the stewards, who was allotted to No. 15 boat, on the starboard side – the last of the odd numbers. ‘I was lying awake in my bunk,’ he said, ‘when the ship struck. She struck gently, and I thought so little of it that I was going to sleep again.’

  He declared that, although he had spent many years in the Atlantic service, he had never seen so much ice as he did on that morning when daylight came. He laughingly described an incident in his boat. A lady – a second-class passenger – complained of the lack of room, and grumbled almost all the way to the Carpathia. If she realized her good fortune in being saved, she did not show it.

  He endorsed the statement made by others that some of the officers made sure of order by firing their revolvers over the heads of the people. Just after one of the boats was launched, the officer in charge said: ‘If anyone disobeys me I will shoot.’

  A HUNDRED SWIMMERS NUMBER QUICKLY REDUCED BY THE EXTREME COLD

  Mr Frank Prentice, assistant storekeeper of the Titanic, seen yesterday, admitted that he had had a really miraculous escape. With nine of his companion storekeepers, he clambered in the poop after having done everything possible to assist the passengers. Some he supplied with lifebelts, and a number he handed into the lifeboats. Among them was Mrs Clarke, who expressed a hope that she would meet him again. Little did either anticipate the startling circumstances in which her wish was to be gratified.

  When once the lifeboats were away, Mr Prentice proceeded right aft, and clambered on to the stern, which already was lifting out of the water preliminary to the final plunge. He described the scene as being awe-inspiring, all the people on deck clambering one after another away from the advancing waves.

  When at length he realized that there was no hope of safety from the fast sinking vessel, he decided to plunge into the sea, and he calculated that he must have jumped over 100 feet, the three propellers of the ship being then well out of the water. He had a lifebelt around him, and being a powerful swimmer quickly came to the surface and found in his vicinity nearly 100 of the crew and passengers swimming for their lives. He shouted to them, inquiring for a close companion called Ricks, who he knew was not a good swimmer. Ricks eventually came to his side and he encouraged him for some time to swim with him, but like many others he disappeared, being overcome by the extreme cold and exhaustion, following a long exposure to the water.

  Mr Prentice explained that, during the time he was in company with the swimmers, they encouraged one another by shouts, and advised each other to keep in close company. So swiftly was the number reduced, however, that he decided to swim away on his own, and he advised Ricks to follow his example. Had the latter done so, he would probably have been saved, as very soon he came in contact with a quantity of wreckage. Then, with deck chairs and cushions, he made a sort of frail raft, and on this he supported himself, swimming whenever it was necessary to keep himself warm, as the icy waters were even more terrible than the cries of his drowning friends, harrowing as they were to his feelings.

  After being over four hours in the sea, he was picked up and taken aboard one of the lifeboats, in which, strangely enough, Mrs Clarke was seated. This lady took off her coat and wrapped him in it, while others assisted to restore him to animation.

  Mr Prentice emphasizes the wonderful presence of mind that prevailed amongst the ship’s officers, mentioning that just before he left Mr McElroy, the purser, to go on deck to see about the boats he had been engaged in provisionin
g, Mr McElroy inquired if anything had been locked up below, meaning the store rooms, thus indicating that he had no idea how seriously the ship had been injured.

  One of the stewards, Mr A. J. Littlejohn, who lives at Cheshunt, Herts, was one of those who escaped in a lifeboat in which there were about fifty people, and in the course of a conversation about the accident he expressed the opinion that if it had not been a fine night with a smooth sea not a single soul would have survived. He explained that the boats were lowered from a tremendous height, and only in smooth seas would it have been possible to do such good work as was done on the Titanic.

  Before any of the crew more than necessary for the management of the boats clambered in, all the passengers on A deck, on the starboard side, where No. 13 lifeboat was situated, had been accounted for. The women and children were at first dealt with, and then several male passengers were taken on board. It was after this, when there was no one present but members of the crew, that one of the officers directed them to take their seats and to row away.

  PANIC AMONG THE STEERAGE PASSENGERS

  At this stage she had not listed, but she was beginning to go down by the head. The B deck ports forward were underwater, the result being that the third-class passengers in the steerage, who were accommodated under, were hurrying up, carrying with them their boxes, baggage, and lifebelts. They had not stopped to put on the last-mentioned. Many of the stewards, Mr Littlejohn admitted, looked on amused at the scenes, being firmly under the impression that the ship was unsinkable, and some regarded the whole procedure and the launching of the boats as a huge joke. Many of the crew were convinced that it was only an emergency boat drill, and it was some time after that they recognized that the responsible officers had come to the conclusion that the Titanic was doomed.

  Amongst the steerage passengers there was a state of affairs bordering on panic. Moaning and weeping piteously, they hurried through the alleyways that led to the third-class promenade deck, and it was a long time before the water got there; not, in fact, until the poop had risen in the air.