Need for More Boats
There were thirty-five men who clung to an upturned boat all night and were taken up next morning. One was Mr Lightoller, one of the best officers that ever sailed. Two out of every three of the crew who have been saved were picked up out of the water after the ship went down. It is said the bandsmen were not so brave as has been made out, but some of the chaps who have come in the Lapland saw them playing when the water was over their feet. There were some brave people, but not all those who have got the credit. Let me tell you, there was a boat ahead of us all night, and we hailed her time after time, for we could see she was high out of the water and we were nearly to the water’s edge. They never stopped nor answered us. We found next day that there were only thirteen people in that boat.
The captain stoker said, about the shooting that is said to have taken place on board: ‘Just as she was going down we heard some shots fired. I think there were people who preferred to put an end to it themselves. There are men here who saw Captain Smith swimming in the water with a child under his arm after the ship sank. He gave the child to the boat and then swam away. He refused to get into the boat himself.’ As to the number of boats the captain stoker said: ‘Opinions differ, but my opinion is that if the Titanic had carried twenty more boats twice as many lives could have been saved.’
A Demented Survivor
A Southampton man who was doing his usual shift at the electric light machinery when the ship struck the ice said:
We scarcely noticed the shock in our part of the ship and did not know there was any danger for a good while. We just went on at our work. There were four of us on the electric engine, and I am the only one of the four who was saved. We were working until within twenty minutes of the time she broke up; then when we knew she must sink we threw overboard everything we could that would float – 800 chairs from one of the saloons and chests of drawers and anything we could move. At the finish I climbed up the davits and slid down the ropes into the water and struck out. I was swimming for twenty minutes before I was picked up by No. 4 boat. Two persons in the boat died, and one of the two went raving mad before he died and wanted to jump into the water again. Both of them were blue in the face, real blue, when we picked them up.
(Ulster Echo, 30 April 1912)
Irish stewardess Mary Sloan wrote to her sister Maggie from the SS Lapland carrying Titanic survivors from New York to Plymouth. Her letter pays tribute to the noble courage of the doomed liner’s designer Thomas Andrews.
SS Lapland, April 27, 1912. My Dear Maggie, I expect you will be glad to hear from me once more and to know I am still in the land of the living. Did you manage to keep the news from Mother? I hope you got the cablegram all right. I never lost my head that dreadful night. When she struck at a quarter to twelve and the engines stopped I knew very well something was wrong. Dr Simpson came and told me the mails were afloat. Things were pretty bad. He brought Miss Marsden and me into his room and gave us a little whiskey and water. He asked me if I was afraid, I replied I was not. He said, ‘Well spoken like a true Ulster girl.’ He had to hurry away to see if there was anyone hurt. I never saw him again. I got a lifebelt and I went round my rooms to see if my passengers were all up and if they had lifebelts on. Poor Mr Andrews came along; I read in his face all I wanted to know. He was a brave man. Mr Andrews met his fate like a true hero realizing the great danger, and gave up his life to save the women and children of the Titanic. They will find it hard to replace him. I got away from all the others and intended to go back to my room for some of my jewellery, but I had no time. I went on deck. I saw Captain Smith getting excited; passengers would not have noticed but I did. I knew then we were soon going. The distress signals were going every second. Then there was a big crush from behind me; at last they realized the danger, so I was pushed into a boat. I believe it was the last one to leave. We had scarcely got clear when she began sinking rapidly. We were in the boats all night until the Carpathia picked us up, about seven in the morning. Mr Lightoller paid me the compliment of saying I was a sailor. Your Loving Sister, Mary.
ONLY A SLIGHT SHOCK
Steward’s Story of the Sinking of the Titanic Iceberg Mistaken For a Cloud
A simple but graphic account of the sinking of the Titanic was told to the Daily Sketch yesterday by Mr Jacob W. Gibbons, a second-class steward.
Mr Gibbons, who is a married man with five children, was on his maiden voyage and had taken the trip to improve his health.
Describing his experiences he said:
I had just turned in to the ‘glory hole’ – as our sleeping quarters are termed – and was hanging up my watch when I felt a sudden jar.
The shock was very slight, and to this fact I attribute the great loss of life, as many of those aboard must have gone to sleep again under the impression that nothing serious had happened.
When I got up on deck the boats were being lowered away, but many of the passengers seemed to prefer sticking to the ship. I helped some of the passengers into boat No. 11, including two little children. Before doing this I had scanned the deck for others, but could see nobody about.
Mr Gibbons, commented on the obstinate way in which passengers would go back to their cabins for nick-nacks: I saw one lady covered in furs complaining that she had several more left behind. She had a mascot in the shape of a little pig, which played a tune, and she would not leave the ship until she had secured her treasure. We drew away from the Titanic in charge of Mr Wheat, another steward, and when about half a mile away we saw her sink. The cries of those on board were terrible, and I doubt if the memory of them will ever leave me during my lifetime.
It has been denied by many that the band was playing, but it was doing so, and the strains of ‘Nearer, My God, To Thee’ came clearly over the water with a solemnity so awful that words cannot express it.
Mr Gibbons mentioned a curious circumstance in connection with the iceberg that struck the Titanic. The berg, he said, was seen in the morning by the passengers, who mistook it for a cloud.
(Daily Sketch, 1 May 1912)
THE TRAGEDY OF A WIFE LEFT A WIDOW
New York, May 1
One of the strangest stories that have eddied out from the wake of the ill-fated Titanic drifted into this city today when Justice Zeller of the court of special sessions, made public a letter which he received from a friend of a woman survivor.
It is a story of hopeless tragedy that this letter reveals – the story of a widow whose baby was snatched from her and lost on the night the Titanic went down and who then, seeking the comforting pressure of a brother’s hand upon her arrival here, was denied even that, because the hand she hoped to cling to had committed theft.
The woman whom the grim Nemesis has so relentlessly pursued is Mrs Bertha Moran, of London. Her husband died a few months ago, and after she settled his meagre estate she decided to take her baby and come over to the new world to begin a new life, under the protection and guidance of a beloved brother, who had come here a dozen years previous.
She took passage with her baby in the third cabin of the Titanic. The night the big ship struck the iceberg she was asleep and did not know of the danger until a fellow passenger awakened her and warned her.
What followed she only vaguely remembers. She remembers seizing her baby and running towards one of the boats. Then, it seems, someone snatched her baby from her and pushed her into a boat that was being lowered.
Crazed with grief, the frantic woman was taken aboard the Carpathia and brought on to New York. She had written her brother that he might expect her on the Titanic, and her anguish increased when he was not on the pier to meet the rescue ship. She did not know that he was serving a term in the penitentiary here for shoplifting.
This knowledge was kept from her when she looked up his only friend here, Edward Walsh, whose wife received her into their home tenderly and who wept when she heard of the baby’s loss.
It is difficult to hold back bad news, and the Walshes knew it. So aft
er telling Mrs Moran a diplomatic story of how her brother had gone west on a business trip without leaving any address where he could be reached, Mr Walsh wrote a letter to Justice Zeller who had sentenced the brother.
‘What I want to ask you,’ the letter said, ‘is this: Can you arrange some way to have this man released, providing the sum is paid to cover the balance of his term? I am not rich. But if you can arrange to release him on these conditions, you will have not only my deepest gratitude, but that of this woman, who, God knows, has pretty near all the trouble she can bear.’
Through the chief clerk of the court Justice Zeller sent word back to Walsh that he does not see any way clear to help him release the brother. ‘This is only another instance of offenders against the law visiting punishment upon their relatives by their own misdoings,’ he said sadly. ‘I can do nothing.’
(Halifax Evening Mail, 3 May)
PANIC IN THEATRE AT SHOWING OF TITANIC’S PICTURES
During a performance at an electric theatre at Cardiff on Saturday night, when it was crowded on the occasion of the display of the Titanic pictures, a film fired. There was momentary alarm, many women shrieking, and some disposition to stampede was manifested. The operator promptly closed shutters, and dashed water over the burning film, and the audience ultimately reached the exits without mishap.
(Cork Free Press, 6 May 1912)
BRISTOL WOMAN’S TERRIBLE EXPERIENCE
The New York World publishes an interview with Mrs Florence Ware, the Bristol lady who was one of the Titanic survivors. Mrs Ware formerly resided at Grosvenor Road, St Paul’s. Her husband was drowned in the disaster.
Mrs Ware in telling her story said:
I sailed with my husband, J. J. Ware. He was a builder in Bristol and expected to take up the same business with Charles Ware of number 186, South Main Street, New Britain, Connecticut. We had $250 for our expenses, and he carried $1000 cash in a belt. Everything is gone.
We sailed second cabin. My husband who is lost was always talking about our chances in America and I was happy.
I heard the noise when the steamer hit the iceberg, but did not pay any attention to it. The next I knew a man was pounding on the door of our state room and saying, ‘Men and women put on lifebelts and get upon deck.’ We did not put on our lifebelts, but ran on deck. As soon as we arrived there some men led me towards a boat. I did not wish to leave my husband, but the men said I must.
My husband just shook my hand and said I should go, and that he would see me soon.
In our boat there were a lot of women, and one steward and a fireman. None of the men knew anything about managing a small boat, so some of the women who were used to it took charge.
I had nothing on but a nightgown and was very cold and I worked as hard as I could at an oar until we were picked up. There was nothing to eat or drink in our boat.
(Bristol Times and Mirror, 11 May 1912)
MR ISMAY ARRIVES AT LIVERPOOL ON THE ADRIATIC
Enthusiastic Reception
The White Star liner Adriatic arrived at the Liverpool Landing Stage this morning shortly after 7.30 having on board Mr Bruce Ismay and some of the survivors of the Titanic disaster.
It was early announced that Mr Ismay had by wireless last night expressed his desire that pressmen would spare him the ordeal of an interview. The reporters pressed for at least a few words, and this statement was made on his behalf:
Mr Ismay asks the gentlemen of the press to extend their courtesy to him by not pressing for any statement from him. First, because he is still suffering from the very great strain of the Titanic disaster and subsequent events; again because he gave before the American commission a plain and unvarnished statement of facts which have been fully reported; and also because his evidence before the British court of inquiry should not be anticipated in any way. He would, however, like to take this opportunity of acknowledging with a full heart the large number of telegraphic messages and letters from public concerns and business and private friends conveying sympathy with him and confidence in him, which he very much appreciates in the greatest trial of his life.
Later, when Mr Ismay appeared on the gangway leading to the Landing Stage he met with a splendid reception. Hats were raised, walking-sticks and handkerchiefs waved, and three rousing cheers were given. Mr Ismay, looking pale and haggard, was evidently much touched by this expression of sympathy and confidence, but he confined himself to quietly raising his hat in acknowledgement.
(Liverpool Evening Express, 11 May 1912)
CHAPTER 7
THE OFFICIAL INQUIRIES
On 19 April 1912, just four days after the sinking of the Titanic, the United States Senate began its investigation into the disaster. Over a period of 17 days the committee, under the chairman-ship of Senator William Alden Smith, a Republican lawyer from Michigan, heard testimony and affidavits from witnesses amounting to 1,145 pages.
The first witness at New York’s Waldorf-Astoria Hotel was White Star Line chairman J. Bruce Ismay, who had to be flanked by bodyguards after being vilified by the American press for not going down with his ship. Despite intense probing from Senator Smith, Ismay remained firm in his view that the Titanic had not been going too fast.
‘Did you have occasion to consult with the captain about the movement of the ship?’ – ‘Never.’
‘Did he consult you about it?’ – ‘Never. Perhaps I am wrong in saying that. I should like to say this: I do not know that it was quite a matter of consulting him about it, or of his consulting me about it, but what we had arranged to do was that we would not attempt to arrive in New York at the lightship before 5 o’clock on Wednesday morning.’
‘That was the understanding?’ – ‘Yes. But that was arranged before we left Queenstown.’
‘Was it supposed that you could reach New York at that time without putting the ship to its full running capacity?’ – ‘Yes. There was nothing to be gained by arriving at New York any earlier than that.’
‘During the voyage, do you know, of your own knowledge, of your proximity to icebergs?’ – ‘I did not know that we were near icebergs. I know ice had been reported.’
‘Do you know anything about a wireless message from the Amerika to the Titanic saying that the Amerika had encountered ice in that latitude?’ – ‘No, sir.’
‘Were you aware of the proximity of icebergs on Sunday?’ – ‘On Sunday? No, I did not know on Sunday. I knew that we would be in the ice region that night sometime.’
‘That you would be or were?’ – ‘That we would be in the ice region on Sunday night.’
‘Did you have any consultation with the captain regarding the matter?’ – ‘Absolutely none.’
‘Or with any other officer of the ship?’ – ‘With no officer at all. I was absolutely out of my province. I am not a navigator. I was simply a passenger on board the ship.’
‘What were the circumstances of your departure from the ship?’ – ‘The boat was there. There was a certain number of men in the boat, and the officer called out asking if there were any more women, and there was no response, and there were no passengers left on the deck. As the boat was in the act of being lowered away, I got into it.’
‘What can you say about the sinking and disappearance of the ship? Can you describe the manner in which she went down?’ – ‘I did not see her go down.’
‘You did not see her go down?’ – ‘No, sir.’
‘How far were you from the ship?’ – ‘I do not know how far we were away. I was sitting with my back to the ship. I was rowing all the time I was in the boat. We were pulling away.’
‘You were rowing?’ – ‘Yes. I did not wish to see her go down.’
(US Inquiry, 19 April 1912)
Arthur Henry Rostron, captain of the Carpathia, testified that his ship, three and a half days out of New York en route for Gibraltar, was 58 miles from the Titanic when receiving her distress signal.
Immediately on getting the message, I gave the order to turn the s
hip around. I asked the operator if he was absolutely sure it was a distress signal from the Titanic. He assured me he was. In the meantime I was dressing, and I picked up our position on my chart, and set a course to pick up the Titanic. I then sent for the chief engineer and told him to call another watch of stokers and make all possible speed to the Titanic, as she was in trouble. Immediately I had done that I sent for the heads of the different departments and issued my orders. Knowing that the Titanic had struck ice, I had to take extra care and every precaution to keep clear of anything that might look like ice. Between 2.45 and four o’clock, the time I stopped my engines, we were passing icebergs on every side and making them out ahead. We had to alter our course several times to clear the bergs.
We picked up the first boat – it was in the charge of an officer. I saw that he was not under full control of this boat, and he called out that he had only one seaman on board, so I had to manoeuvre the ship to get as close to the boat as possible since I knew it would be difficult to do the pulling. However they got alongside, and they got them up all right. By the time we had the first boat’s people it was breaking day, and then I could see the remaining boats all around within an area of about four miles. I also saw icebergs all around me. There were about twenty icebergs that would be anywhere from 150 to 200ft high and numerous smaller bergs. There were also numerous what we call ‘growlers’. You could not call them bergs. They were anywhere from 10 to 12fthigh and 10 to 15ft long above the water.
I manoeuvred the ship and we gradually got all the boats together. We got all the boats alongside and all the people aboard by 8.30. I was then very close to where the Titanic must have gone down, as there was a lot of small pieces of broken-up stuff. I asked for the purser and told him that I wanted to hold a service, a short prayer of thankfulness for those rescued and a short burial service for those who were lost. I consulted with Mr Ismay. While they were holding the service, I was on the bridge, and I manoeuvred around the scene of the wreckage. We saw nothing except one body. It appeared to me to be one of the crew. He was only about 100 yards from the ship. We could see him quite distinctly and saw that he was absolutely dead. He was lying on his side and his head was awash. I did not take him aboard because the Titanic’s passengers were then knocking about the deck and I did not want to cause any unnecessary excitement or any more hysteria among them so I steamed past, trying to get them not to see it.
Voices from the Titanic Page 42
