 The Sinking of the Titanic and Other Great Sea Disasters, edited by Logan Marshall. This is the LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Today's reading by Allison Hester of Athens, Georgia. Introduction, Dedication, and Chapter 1 of Sinking of the Titanic and Other Great Sea Disasters, edited by Logan Marshall. Dedication, to the 1,635 souls who were lost with the ill-fated Titanic, and especially to those heroic men who, instead of trying to save themselves, stood aside that women and children might have their chance. Of each of them, let it be written, as it was written of a greater one, he died that others might live. Introduction, Dr. Van Dyke's spiritual consolation to the survivors of the Titanic. The Titanic, greatest of ships, has gone to her ocean grave. What has she left behind her? Think clearly. She has left debts. Vast sums of money have been lost. Some of them are covered by insurance, which will be paid. The rest is gone. All wealth is insecure. She has left lessons. The risk of running the northern course when it is menaced by icebergs is revealed. The cruelty of sending a ship to sea without enough lifeboats and life rafts to hold her company is exhibited and underlined in black. She has left sorrows. Hundreds of human hearts and homes are in mourning for the loss of dear companions and friends. The universal sympathy, which is written in every face and heard in every voice, proves that men is more than beasts that perish. It is an evidence of the divine in humanity. Why should we care? There is no reason in the world unless there is something in us that is different from lime and carbon and phosphorus, something that makes us mortals able to suffer together, for we have all of us a human heart. But there is more than this harvest of debts and lessons and sorrows in the tragedy of the sinking of the Titanic. There is a great ideal. It is clearly outlined and set before the mind and heart of the modern world to approve and follow or to despise and reject. It is women and children first. Whatever happened on that dreadful April night among the Arctic ice, certainly that was the order given by the brave and steadfast captain. Certainly that was the law obeyed by the men on the doomed ship. But why? There is no statute or enactment of any nation to enforce such an order. There is no trace of such a rule to be found in the history of ancient civilizations. There is no authority for it among the heathen races today. On a Chinese ship, if we may believe the report of an official representative, the rule would have been men first, children next, and women last. There is certainly no argument against this barbaric rule on physical or material grounds. On the average, a man is stronger than a woman. He is worth more than a woman. He has a longer prospect of life than a woman. There is no reason in all the range of physical and economic science, no reason in all the philosophy of the Superman why he should give his place in the lifeboat to a woman. Where then does this rule which prevailed in the sinking Titanic come from? It comes from God, through the faith of Jesus of Nazareth. It is the ideal of self-sacrifice. It is the rule that the strong ought to bear the infirmities of those that are weak. It is the divine revelation which is summed up in words, greater love had no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends. It needs a tragic catastrophe like the wreck of the Titanic to bring out the absolute contradiction between this ideal and all the counsels of materialism and selfish expendency. I do not say that the germ of this ideal may not be found in other religions. I do not say that they are against it. I do not ask any man to accept my theology, which grows shorter and simpler as I grow older, unless his heart leads him to it. But this I say, the ideal that the strength of the strong is given them to protect and save the weak, the ideal which animates the rule of women and children first, is in essential harmony with the Spirit of Christ. If what he said about our Father in Heaven is true, this ideal is supremely reasonable. Otherwise, it is hard to find arguments for it. The tragedy of facts sets the question clearly before us. Think about it. Is this ideal to survive and prevail in our civilization or not? Without it, no doubt, we may have riches and power and dominion. But what a world to live in. Only through the belief that the strong are bound to protect and save the weak because God wills it so, can we hope to keep self-sacrifice and love and terrorism and all the things that make us glad to live and not afraid to die. Henry Van Dyke, Princeton, New Jersey, April 18, 1912. Facts about the wreck of the Titanic. Number of persons aboard, 2,340. Number of lifeboats and rafts, 20. Capacity of each lifeboat, 50 passengers and a crew of 8. Upmost capacity of lifeboats and rafts, about 1,100. Number of lifeboats wrecked and launching, 4. Capacity of lifeboats safely launched, 928. Total number of persons taken in lifeboats, 711. Number who died in lifeboats, 6. Total number saved, 705. Total number of Titanic's company lost, 1,635. The cause of the disaster was a collision with an iceberg in latitude 41°46°N, longitude 50°41°W. The Titanic had repeated warnings of the presence of ice in that part of the course. Two official warnings had been received defining the position of the ice fields. It had been calculated on the Titanic that she would reach the ice fields about 11 o'clock Sunday night. The collision occurred at 11.40. At that time the ship was driving at a speed of 21 to 23 knots, or about 26 miles an hour. There had been no details of seaman assigned to each boat. Some of the boats left the ship without seaman enough to man the oars. Some of the boats were not more than half full of passengers. The boats had no provisions, some of them had no water stored, some were without sail equipment or compasses. In some boats, which carried sails wrapped in bound, there was not a person with a knife to cut the ropes. In some boats, the plugs in the bottom had been pulled out, and the women passengers were compelled to thrust their hands into the holes to keep the boats from filling and sinking. The captain, E.J. Smith, Admiral of the White Star Fleet, went down with his ship. First news of the greatest marine disaster in history. The Titanic in collision, but everybody's safe. Another triumph set down to wireless telegraphy. The world goes to sleep peacefully. The sad awakening. Like a bolt out of a clear sky came the wireless message on Monday, April 15, 1912, that on Sunday night, the great Titanic on her maiden voyage across the Atlantic had struck a gigantic iceberg, but that all the passengers were saved. The ship had signaled her distress, and another victory was set down to wireless. 2,100 lives saved. Additional news was soon received that the ship had collided with a mountain of ice in the North Atlantic off Cape Race, Newfoundland, at 10.25 Sunday evening, April 14. At 4.15 Monday morning, the Canadian government marine agency received a wireless message that the Titanic was sinking and that the steamers towing her were trying to get her into shoal water near Cape Race for the purpose of beaching her. Wireless dispatches up to noon Monday showed that the passengers of the Titanic were being transferred aboard the steamer Carpathia, a Cunarder, which left New York, April 13, for Naples. 20 boatloads of the Titanic's passengers were said to have been transferred to the Carpathia then, and allowing 40 to 60 persons as the capacity of each lifeboat, some 800 or 1200 persons had already been transferred from the damaged liner to the Carpathia. They were reported as being taken to Halifax. Wents, they would be sent by train to New York. Another liner, the Parisian of the Allen Company, which sailed from Glasgow for Halifax on April 6, was said to be close at hand in assisting in the work of rescue. The Baltic, Virginian, and Olympic were also near the scene, according to the information received by wireless. While badly damaged, the giant vessel was reported as still afloat, but whether she could reach port or shoal water was uncertain. The White Star officials declared that the Titanic was in no immediate danger of sinking because of her numerous watertight compartments. While we are still lacking definite information, Mr. Franklin, Vice President of the White Star Line, said later in the afternoon, We believe the Titanic's passengers will reach Halifax Wednesday evening. We have received no further word from Captain Haddock of the Olympic or from any of the ships in the vicinity, but are confident that there will be no loss of life. With the understanding that the survivors would be taken to Halifax, the line arranged to have 30 Pullman cars, two diners, and many passenger coaches leave Boston Monday night for Halifax to get the passengers after they were landed. Mr. Franklin made a guess that the Titanic's passengers would get into Halifax on Wednesday. The Department of Commerce and Labor notified the White Star Line that customs and immigration inspectors would be sent from Montreal to Halifax in order that there would be as little delay as possible in getting the passengers on trains. Monday night, the world slept in peace and assurance. A wireless message had finally been received reading, All Titanic's passengers safe. It was not until nearly a week later that the fact was discovered that this message had been wrongly received in the confusion of messages flashing through the air, and that in reality, the message should have read, Are all Titanic's passengers safe? With the dawning of Tuesday morning came the awful news of the true sad fate of the Titanic. End of dedication, introduction, and chapter one of the sinking of the Titanic and Great Sea Disasters. Chapters two and three of the sinking of the Titanic and Great Sea Disasters. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. This reading by Allison Hester of Athens, Georgia. The sinking of the Titanic and Great Sea Disasters. Edited by Logan Marshall. Chapters two and three. The most sumptuous palace of float. Dimensions of the Titanic, capacity, provisions for the comfort and entertainment of passengers, mechanical equipment, the army of attendants required. The statistical record of the great ship has news value at this time. Early in 1908, officials of the White Star Company announced they would eclipse all previous records in shipbuilding with a vessel of staggering dimensions. The Titanic resulted. The keel of the ill-fated ship was laid in the summer of 1909 at the Harland and Wolff Yards Bellfest. Lord Peary, considered one of the best authorities on shipbuilding in the world, was the designer. The Leveitham was launched on May 31, 1911 and was completed in February 1912 at a cost of $10 million. Sistership of Olympic. The Titanic, largest liner in commission, was a sister ship to the Olympic. The registered tonnage of each vessel is estimated as 45,000, but officers of the White Star Line say that the Titanic measured 45,328 tons. The Titanic was commanded by Captain E.J. Smith, the White Star Admiral, who had previously been on the Olympic. She was 882 and a half long, or about four city blocks, and was 5,000 tons bigger than a battleship twice as large as the Dreadnought Delaware. Like her sister ship, the Olympic, the Titanic was a four-funneled vessel and had 11 decks. The distance from the keel to the top of the funnels was 175 feet. She had an average speed of 21 knots. The Titanic could accommodate 2,500 passengers. The steam ship was divided into numerous compartments, separated by 15 bulkheads. She was equipped with a gymnasium, swimming pool, hospital with operating room, and a grill and palm garden. Carried crew of 860. The registered tonnage was 45,000, and the displacement tonnage, 66,000. She was capable of carrying 2,500 passengers and the crew numbered 860. The largest plates employed in the hull were 36 feet long, weighing 43 and one-half tons each, and the largest steel beam used was 92 feet long, the weight of this double beam being four tons. The rudder, which was operated electrically, weighed 100 tons. The anchors, 15 and one-half tons each. The center turbine propeller, 22 tons. And each of the two wing propellers, 38 tons each. The after-boss arms, from which were suspended the three propeller shafts, tipped the scales at 73 and one-half tons, and the forward-boss arms at 45 tons. Each link in the anchor chains weighed 175 pounds. There were more than 2,000 side lights and windows to light the public rooms and passenger cabins. Nothing was left to chance in the construction of the Titanic. Three million rivets, weighing 1,200 tons, held the solid plates of steel together. To ensure stability in binding the heavy plates in the double bottom, half a million rivets weighing about 270 tons were used. All the plating of the hulls was riveted by hydraulic power, driving seven-ton riveting machines suspended from traveling cranes. The double bottom extended the full length of the vessel, varying from 5 feet 3 inches to 6 feet 3 inches in depth, and lent added strength to the hull. Most Luxurious Steamship Not only was the Titanic the largest steamship afloat, but it was the most luxurious. Elaborately furnished cabins opened onto her 11 decks, and some of these decks were reserved as private promenades that were engaged with the best suites. One of these suites sold for $4,350 for the boat's maiden and only voyage. Suites similar, but which were without the private promenade decks sold for $2,300. The Titanic differed in some respects from her sister ship. The Olympic has a lower promenade deck, but in the Titanic's case, the state rooms were brought out flush with the outside of the superstructure, and the rooms themselves made much larger. The sitting rooms of some of the suites on this deck were 15 by 15 feet. The restaurant was much larger than that of the Olympic, and it had a novelty in the shape of a private promenade deck on the starboard side to be used exclusively by its patrons. Adjoining it was a reception room where hosts and hostesses could meet their guests. Two private promenades were connected with the two most luxurious suites on the ship. The suites were situated about a midships, one on either side of the vessel, and each was about 50 feet long. One of the suites comprised a sitting room, two bedrooms, and a bath. These private promenades were expensive luxuries because they figured out something like $40 a front foot for a six days voyage. Today, with the suites to which they are attached were the most expensive transatlantic accommodations yet offered. The engine room. The engine room was divided into two sections, one given to the reciprocating engines and the other to the turbines. There were two sets of the reciprocating kind, one working each of the wing propellers through a four-cylinder triple expansion, direct acting inverted engine. Each set could generate 15,000 indicated horsepower at 75 revolutions a minute. The Parsons type turbine takes steam from the reciprocating engines and by developing a horsepower of 16,000 at 165 revolutions a minute works the third of the ship's propellers, the one directly under the rudder. Of the four funnels of the vessel, three were connected with the engine room, and the fourth, or after funnel, for ventilating the ship, including the gallery. Practically all of the space on the Titanic below the upper deck was occupied by steam-generating plants, coal bunkers, and propelling machinery. Eight of the 15 watertight compartments contained mechanical part of the vessel. There were, for instance, 24 double ends and five single end boilers. Each 16 feet, 9 inches in diameter, the larger 20 feet long, and the smaller, 11 feet, 9 inches long. The larger boilers had six fires under each of them and the smaller, three furnaces. Coal was stored in a bunker space along the side of the ship between the lower and middle decks, and was first shipped from there into bunkers running all the way across the vessel into the lowest part. One of the most interesting features of the vessel was the refrigerating plant, which comprised a huge ice making and refrigerating machine, and a number of provision rooms on the after part of the lower and orlop decks. There were separate cold rooms for beef, mutton, poultry, game, fish, vegetables, fruit, butter, bacon, cheese, flowers, mineral water, wine, spirits, and champagne, all maintained at different temperatures, most suitable to each. Perishable freight had a compartment of its own, also chilled by the plant. Comfort and stability. Two main ideas were carried out in the Titanic. One was comfort and the other stability. The vessel was planned to be an ocean ferry. She was to have only a speed of 21 knots, far below that of some other modern vessels, but she was planned to make that speed blow high or blow low so that if she left one side of the ocean at a given time, she could be relied on to reach the other side at almost a certain minute of a certain hour. One who has looked into modern methods for safeguarding a vessel of the Titanic type can hardly imagine an accident that could cause her to found her. No collision such has been the fate of any ship in recent years. It has been thought up to this time, could send her down, nor could running against an iceberg do it unless such an accident were coupled with the remotely possible blowing out of a boiler. She would sink at once, probably, if she were to run over a submerged rock or derelict in such a manner that both her keel plates and her double bottom were torn away from more than half her length, but such a catastrophe was so remotely possible that it did not even enter the field of conjecture. The reason for all this is found in the modern arrangement of watertight steel compartments into which all ships now are divided and of which the Titanic had 15 so disposed that half of them, including the largest, could be flooded without impairing the safety of the vessel. Probably it was the working of these bulkheads and the watertight doors between them as they are supposed to work that saved the Titanic from foundering when she struck the iceberg. These bulkheads were of heavy sheet steel and started at the very bottom of the ship and extended right up to the top side. The openings in the bulkheads were just about the size of the ordinary doorway, but the doors did not swing as in a house, but fitted into watertight grooves above the opening. They could be released instantly in several ways and once closed formed a barrier to the water as solid as the bulkhead itself. In the Titanic, as in other great modern ships, these doors were held in place above the openings by friction clutches. On the bridge was a switch which connected with an electric magnet at the side of the bulkhead opening. The turning of the switch caused the magnet to draw down a heavy weight which instantly released the friction clutch and allowed the door to fall or slide down over the opening in a second. If, however, through accident, the bridge switch was rendered useless, the doors would close automatically in a few seconds. This was arranged by means of large metal floats at the sides of doorways, which rested just above the level of the double bottom. And as water entered the compartments, these floats would rise to it and directly release the clutch holding the door open. These clutches could also be released by hand. It was said of the Titanic that liner compartments could be flooded as far back or as far forward as the engine room and she would float, though she might take on a heavy list or settle considerably at one end. To provide against such an accident as she is said to have encountered, she had set back a good distance from the bowels, an extra heavy cross partition known as the collision bulkhead, which would prevent water getting in amid ships, even though a good part of her bow should be torn away. What a ship can stand and still float was shown a few years ago when the Swevic of the White Star Line went on the rocks of the British coast. The wreckers could not move the forward part of her, so they separated her into two sections by the use of dynamite. And after putting in a temporary bulkhead, floated off the after half of the ship, put it in dry dock, and built a new forward part for her. More recently, the battleship Maine, or what was left of her, was floated out to sea and kept on top of the water by her water type compartments only. Chapter three, the maiden voyage of the Titanic. Preparations for the voyage, scenes of gaiety, the boat sails, incidents of the voyage, a collision nearly averted, the boat on fire, mourned of icebergs. Ever was ill-starred voyage more auspiciously begun than when the Titanic, newly crowned Empress of the Seas, steamed majestically out of the port of Southampton at noon on Wednesday, April 10, bound for New York. Elaborate preparations had been made for the maiden voyage. Crowds of eager watchers gathered to witness the departure, all the more interested because of the notable people who were to travel aboard her. Friends and relatives of many of the passengers were at the dock to bid Godspeed to their departing loved ones. The passengers themselves were unusually gay and happy. Majestic and beautiful, the ship rested on the water, marvel of shipbuilding, worthy of any sea. As this new queen of the ocean moved slowly from her dock, no one questioned her construction. She was fitted with an elaborate system of watertight compartments calculated to make her unsinkable. She had been pronounced the safest as well as the most sumptuous Atlantic liner of float. There was silence just before the boat pulled out, the silence that usually precedes the leaf-taking, the heavy whistles sounded, and the splendid Titanic, her flags flying in her band playing, churned the water and plowed heavily away. Then the Titanic, with the people on board waving handkerchiefs and shouting goodbyes that could be heard only as a buzzing murmur on shore, rode away on the ocean, proudly, majestically, her head up, and, so it seemed, her shoulders thrown back. If ever a vessel seemed to throb with proud life, if ever a monster of the sea seemed to fill its oats and strain at the leash, if ever a ship seemed to have breeding and blue blood that would keep its going until its heart broke, that ship was the Titanic. And so it was only her due that as the Titanic steamed out of the harbor bound on her maiden voyage, a thousand God speeds were wafted after her. While every other vessel that she passed, the greatest of them, dwarfed by her colossal proportions, paid homage to the new queen regnant with the blasts of their whistles and the shrieking of steam sirens, the ship's captain. In command of the Titanic was Captain E.J. Smith, a veteran of the seas and admiral of the White Star Line fleet. The next six officers in the order of their rank were Murdoch, Lighttoller, Pittman, Box Hall, Low and Moody. Dan Phillips was chief wireless operator with Harold Bride as assistant. From the forward bridge, fully 90 feet above the sea, peered out the benign face of the ship's master, cool of aspect, deliberate of action, impressive in that quality of confidence that is bred only of long experience in command. From far below the bridge, sounded the strains of the ship's orchestra, playing blightly a favorite air from the chocolate soldier. All went as merry as a wedding bell. Indeed, among that gay ship's company were two score or more at least for whom the wedding bells had sounded in truth not many days before. Some were on their honeymoon tours, others were returning to their motherland after having passed the weeks of the honeymoon, like Colonel John Jacob Astor and his young bride amid the diversions of Egypt or other old world countries. What daring flight of imagination would have ventured the prediction that within the span of six days that stately ship, humbled, shattered and torn asunder would lie 2,000 fathoms deep at the bottom of the Atlantic, that the benign face that peered from the bridge would be set in the rigor of death and that the happy bevy of voyaging brides would be sorrowing widows. Almost in a collision. The big vessel had, however, a touch of evil fortune before she cleared the harbor of Southampton. As she passed down her stream, her immense bulk, she displaced 66,000 tons, drew the waters after her with an irresistible suction that tore the American liner New York from her moorings. Seven steel haulsers were snapped like twine. The New York floated toward the white star ship and would have rammed the new ship had not the tugs, Vulcan and Neptune stopped her and towed her back to the quay. When the mammoth ship touched at Sherbourg and later at Queenstown, she was again the object of a port ovation. The smaller craft, doing obeisance, while thousands gazed in wonder at her stupendous proportions. After taking aboard some additional passengers at each port, the Titanic headed her towering bow toward the open sea and the race for a record on her maiden voyage was begun. New burst of speed each day. The Titanic made 484 miles as her first day's run, her powerful new engines turning over at the rate of 70 revolutions. On the second day out, the speed was hit up to 73 revolutions and the run for the day was bulletin'd at 519 miles. Still further increasing the speed, the rate of revolution of the engines was raised to 75 and the day's run was 549 miles, the best yet scheduled. But the ship had not yet been speeded to her capacity. She was capable of turning over about 78 revolutions. Had the weather conditions been propitious, it was intended to press the great racer to the full limit of her speed on Monday. But for the Titanic, Monday never came. Fire in the coal bunkers. Unknown to the passengers, the Titanic was on fire from the day she sailed from Southampton. Her officers and crew knew it for they had fought the fire for days. This story told for the first time by the survivors of the crew was only one of the many thrilling tales of the fateful first voyage. The Titanic sailed from Southampton on Wednesday, April 10th at noon, said Jay Dilly, a fireman on the Titanic. I was assigned to the Titanic from the Oceanic where I had served as a fireman. From the day we sailed, the Titanic was on fire and my sole duty, together with 11 other men, had been to fight that fire. We made no headway against it. Passengers in ignorance. Of course, he went on, the passengers knew nothing of the fire. Do you think we'd have let them know about it? No, sir. The fire started in bunker number six. There were hundreds of tons of coal stored there. The coal on top of the bunker was wet as all the coal should have been, but down at the bottom of the bunker the coal had been permitted to get dry. The dry coal at the bottom of the pile took fire and smoldered for days. The wet coal on top kept the flames from coming through, but down in the bottom of the bunkers the flames were raging. Two men from each watch of stokers were told off to fight that fire. The stokers worked four hours at a time, so 12 of us were fighting flames from the day we put out of Southampton until we hit the iceberg. No, we didn't get that fire out. And among the stokers there was talk that we'd have to empty the big coal bunkers after we'd put our passengers off in New York and then call on the fire boats there to help us put out the fire. The stokers were alarmed over it, but the officers told us to keep our mouth shut. They didn't want to alarm the passengers. Usual diversion. Until Sunday, April 14th, then the voyage had apparently been a delightful but uneventful one. The passengers had passed the time in the usual diversions of ocean travelers, amusing themselves in the luxurious saloons promenading on the boat deck, lulling at their ease in the steamer chairs and making pools on the daily runs of the steamship. The smoking rooms and card rooms had been as well patronized as usual and a party of several notorious professional gamblers had begun reaping their usual easy harvest. As early as Sunday afternoon, the officers of the Titanic must have known they were approaching dangerous ice fields of the kind that are a perennial menace to the safety of steamships following the regular transatlantic lanes off the great banks of Newfoundland. An unheeded warning. On Sunday afternoon, the Titanic's wireless operator forwarded to the Hydrographic Office in Washington, Baltimore, Philadelphia and elsewhere the following dispatch. April 14th, the German Steamship America, Hamburg American Line, reports by Radio Telegraph passing two large icebergs in latitude 41.27, longitude 50.08, Titanic, BRSS. Despite this warning, the Titanic forged ahead Sunday night at her usual speed from 21 to 25 knots. End of chapters two and three of the sinking of the Titanic and Great Sea Disasters. The sinking of the Titanic and Great Sea Disasters edited by Logan Marshall. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Today's reading by Allison Hester of Athens, Georgia. The sinking of the Titanic and Great Sea Disasters edited by Logan Marshall. Chapters four and five. Some of the notable passengers. The ship's company was of a character befitting the greatest of all vessels and worthy of the occasion of her maiden voyage. Though the major part of her passengers were American returning from abroad, there were enrolled upon her cabin list some of the most distinguished names of England as well as of the younger nation. Many of these had purposely delayed sailing or had hastened their departure that they may be among the first passengers on the Great Vessel. There were aboard six men whose fortunes ran into tens of millions besides many other persons of international note. Among the men were leaders in the world of commerce, finance, literature, art, and the learned professions. Many of the women were socially prominent in two hemispheres. Wealth and fame, unfortunately, are not proof against fate. And most of these notable personages perished as pitiably as the more humble steerage passengers. The list of notables included Colonel John Jacob Astor, head of the Astor family whose fortune is estimated at $150 million. Isidore Strauss, merchant and banker, $50 million. Jay Bruce Ismay. Jay Bruce Ismay, managing director of the international mercantile marine, $40 million. Benjamin Guggenheim, head of the Guggenheim family, $95 million. George D. Weidner, son of PAB Weidner, traction magnet and financier, $5 million. Colonel Washington Robling, builder of the Great Brooklyn Bridge. Charles M. Hayes, president of the Grand Trunk Railway. W. T. Steed, famous publicist. Jacques Frutrell, journalist. Harry S. Harper, of the firm, Harper & Brothers. Henry B. Harris, theatrical manager. Major Archibald Butt, military aide to President Taft. And Francis D. Millet, one of the best known American painters. Major Butt. Major Archibald Butt, whose bravery on the sinking vessel will not soon be forgotten, was military aide to President Taft and was known wherever the president traveled. His recent European mission was apparently to call on the Pope in behalf of President Taft. For on March 21st, he was received at the Vatican and presented to the Pope a letter from Mr. Taft thinking the pontiff for the creation of three new American cardinals. Major Butt had a reputation as a horseman and it is said he was able to keep up with President Roosevelt, be the ride ever so far or fast. He was promoted to the rank of major in 1911. He sailed for the Mediterranean on March 2nd with his friend Francis D. Millet, the artist who also perished on the Titanic. Colonel Aster. John Jacob Aster was returning from a trip to Egypt with his 19 year old bride, formerly Miss Madeline Forse, to whom he was married in Providence, September 9th, 1911. He was head of the family whose name he bore and one of the world's wealthiest men. He was not, however, one of the world's idle rich for his life of 47 years was a well-filled one. He had managed the family estate since 1891, built the Aster Hotel in New York, was Colonel on the staff of Governor Levi P. Morton and in May of 1898 was commissioned Colonel of the United States Volunteers. After assisting Major General Breckenridge and Specter General of the United States Army, he was assigned to duty on the staff of Major General Shafter and served in Cuba during the operations ending the surrender of Santiago. He was also the inventor of a bicycle brake, a pneumatic road improver and an improved turbine engine, Benjamin Guggenheim. Next to Colonel Aster in Financial Importance was Benjamin Guggenheim, whose father founded the famous house of M. Guggenheim and Sons. When the various Guggenheim interests were consolidated into the American Smelting and Refining Company, he retired from active business, although he later became interested in the power and mining machinery company of Milwaukee. In 1894, he married Ms. Floreta Seligman, daughter of James Seligman, the New York banker. Isidore Strauss. Isidore Strauss, whose wife elected to perish with him in the ship, was a brother of Nathan and Oscar Strauss, a partner with Nathan Strauss in R. H. Macien Company and L. Strauss and Sons, a member of the firm of Abraham and Strauss in Brooklyn and has been well known in politics and charitable work. He was a member of the 53rd Congress from 1893 to 1895 and as a friend of William L. Wilson was in constant consultation in the matter of the former Wilson tariff bill. Mr. Strauss was conspicuous for his works of charity and was an ardent supporter of every enterprise to improve the condition of the Hebrew immigrants. He was president of the Educational Alliance, vice president of the J. Hood Wright Memorial Hospital, a member of the Chamber of Commerce, on one of the visiting committees of Harvard University and was besides a trustee of many financial and philanthropic institutions. Mr. Strauss never enjoyed a college education. He was, however, one of the best informed men of his day, his information having been derived from extensive reading. His library said to be one of the finest and most extensive in New York was his pride and his place of special recreation. George D. Widener. The best known of Philadelphia passengers aboard the Titanic were Mr. and Mrs. George D. Widener. Mr. Widener was a son of Peter A. B. Widener and, like his father, was recognized as one of the foremost financiers of Philadelphia, as well as a leader in society there. Mr. Widener married Ms. Eleanor Elkins, a daughter of the late William L. Elkins. They made their home with his father at the latter's fine place at Eastburn, 10 miles from Philadelphia. Mr. Widener was keenly interested in horses and was a constant exhibitor at horse shows. In business, he was recognized as his father's chief advisor in managing the latter's extensive traction interests. P. A. B. Widener is a director of the International Mercantile Marine. Mrs. Widener is said to be the possessor of one of the finest collections of jewels in the world, the gift of her husband. One string of pearls in this collection was reported to be worth $250,000. The Wideners went abroad two months previous to the disaster. Mr. Widener desiring to inspect some of his business interests on the other side. At the opening of the London Museum by King George on March 21st, last it was announced that Mrs. Widener had presented to the museum 30 silver plates, once the property of Neil Gwynne. Mr. Widener is survived by a daughter Eleanor and a son, George D. Widener. Junior Harry Elkins, Widener, was with his parents and went down with the ship. Colonel Roebling. Colonel Washington Augustus Roebling was president of the John A. Roebling Sons Company, manufacturers of iron and steel wire rope. He served in the Union Army from 1861 to 1865, resigning to assist his father in the construction of the Cincinnati and Covington suspension bridge. At the death of his father in 1869, he took entire charge of the construction of the Brooklyn Bridge and it is said to his genius that the success of that great work may be said to be due. William T. Stede. One of the most notable of the foreign passengers was William T. Stede. Few names are more widely known to the world of contemporary literature and journalism than that of the brilliant editor of the Review of Reviews. Matthew Arnold called him the inventor of the new journalism in England. He was on his way to America to take part in the men and religion forward movement and was to have delivered an address in Union Square on the Thursday after the disaster with William Jennings Bryan as his chief associate. Mr. Stede was an earnest advocate of peace and had written many books. His commentary, if Christ came to Chicago, raised a storm 20 years ago. When he was in this country in 1907, he addressed a session of Methodist clergymen and at one juncture of the meeting remarked that unless the Methodist did something about the peace movement besides shouting amen, nobody would care a damn about their amens. Other Englishmen aboard. Other distinguished Englishmen on the Titanic were Norman C. Craig, MP, Thomas Andrews, a representative of the farm of Harland and Wolfe of Belfast, the ship's builders, and J. Bruce Ismay, managing director of the White Star Line. J. Bruce Ismay. Mr. Ismay is president and one of the founders of the International Mercantile Marine. He has made it a custom to be a passenger on the maiden voyage of every new ship built by the White Star Line. It was Mr. Ismay who, with J.P. Morgan, consolidated the British theme ship lines under the International Mercantile Marine's control, and it is largely due to his imagination that such gigantic ships as the Titanic and the Olympic were made possible. Jacques Frutrell. Jacques Frutrell was an author of short stories, some of which have appeared in the Saturday Evening Post and of many novels of the same general type as The Thinking Machine, with which he first gained a wide popularity. Newspaper work, chiefly in Richmond, Virginia, engaged his attention from 1890 to 1909, in which year he entered the theatrical business as a manager. In 1904, he returned to his journalistic career. Henry B. Harris. Henry B. Harris, the theater manager, had been manager of Mae Irwin, Peter Daly, Lily Langtree, Amelia Bingham, and launched Robert Edison as star. He became the manager of the Hudson Theater in 1903, and the Hackett Theater in 1906. Among his best known productions are The Lion and the Mouse, The Traveling Salesman, and The Third Degree. He was president of the Henry B. Harris Company, controlling the Harris Theater. Young Harris had a liking for the theatrical business from a boy. 12 years ago, Mr. Harris married Ms. Renee Wallach of Washington. He was said to have a fortune of between $1 million and $3 million. He owned outright the Hudson and the Harris theaters, and had an interest in two other show houses in New York. He owned three theaters in Chicago, one in Syracuse and one in Philadelphia. Henry S. Harper. Henry Sleeper Harper, who was among the survivors, is a grandson of John Wesley Harper, one of the founders of Harper Publishing Business. H. Sleeper Harper was himself an incorporator of Harper and Brothers when the firm became a corporation in 1896. He had a desk in the offices of the publishers, but his hands of late years in the management of the business has been very slight. He has been active in the work of keeping the Adirondack forests free from aggression. He was in the habit of spending about half of his time in foreign travel. His friends in New York recalled that he had a narrow escape about 10 years ago when a ship in which he was traveling ran into an iceberg on the grand banks. Francis David Millett. Millett was one of the best known American painters and many of his canvases are found in the leading galleries of the world. He served as a drummer boy with the 60th Massachusetts Volunteers in the Civil War and from early manhood took a prominent part in public affairs. He was director of the decorations for the Chicago Exposition and was at the time of the disaster secretary of the American Academy in Rome. He was a wide traveler and the author of many books besides translations of Tolstoy. Charles M. Hayes. Another person of prominence was Charles Melville Hayes, president of the Grand Trunk and the Grand Trunk Pacific Railways. He was described by Sir Wilfred Laurier at a dinner of the Canadian Club of New York at the Hotel Aster last year as, beyond question the greatest rover genius in Canada as an executive genius ranking second only to the late Edward H. Harriman. He was returning aboard the Titanic with his wife and son-in-law and daughter, Mr. and Mrs. Thornton Davidson of Montreal. End of chapter four. Chapter five of Sinking of the Titanic and Great Sea Disasters, edited by Logan Marshall. Chapter five, The Titanic Strikes an Iceberg. Tarty attention to warning responsible for accident, the danger not realized at first, an interrupted card game, passengers joke among themselves, the real truth dawns, panic on board, wireless calls for help. Sunday night, the magnificent ocean liner was plunging through a comparatively placid sea on the surface of which there was much mushy ice and here and there a number of comparatively harmless looking flows. The night was clear and stars visible. First officer, William T. Murdoch was in charge of the bridge. The first intimation of the presence of the iceberg that he received was from the lookout in the crow's nest. Three warnings were transmitted from the crow's nest of the Titanic to the officer on the doomed steamships bridge 15 minutes before she struck, according to Thomas Whiteley, a first saloon steward. Whiteley, who was whipped over board from the ship by a rope while helping to lower a lifeboat, finally reported on the Carpathia, aboard one of the boats that contained, he said, both the crow's nest lookouts. He heard a conversation between them. He asserted in which they discussed the warnings given to the Titanic's bridge of the presence of the iceberg. Whiteley did not know the names of either of the lookout men and believed that they returned to England with the majority of the surviving members of the crew. I heard one of them say that at 11 o'clock, 15 minutes before the Titanic struck, he had reported to First Officer Murdoch on the bridge that he fancied he saw an iceberg, said Whiteley. Twice after that, the lookout said, he warned Murdoch that a bird was ahead. They were very indignant that no attention was paid to their warnings. Tardy attention to warning responsible for accident. Murdoch's Tardy answering of a telephone call from the crow's nest is assigned by Whiteley as the cause of the disaster. When Murdoch answered the call, he received the information that the iceberg was due ahead. This information was imparted just a few seconds before the crash and had the officer promptly answered the ring of the bell, it is probable that the accident could have been avoided or at least been reduced by the lowered speed. The lookout saw a towering blue bird looming up in the seapath of the Titanic and called the bridge on the ship's telephone. When, after the passing of those two or three fateful minutes, an officer on the bridge lifted the telephone receiver from its hook to answer the lookout, it was too late. The speeding liner, cleaving a calm sea under a star-studded sky, had reached the floating mountain of ice, which the theoretically unsinkable ship struck a crashing, if glancing, blow with her starboard bow. Murdoch paid with life. Had Murdoch, according to the account of the tragedy, given by two of the Titanic seamen, known how imperative was that call from the lookout man, the man at the wheel of the liner might have swerved the great ship sufficiently to avoid the berg all together. At the worst, the vessel would probably have struck the mass of ice with her stern. Murdoch, if the tale of the Titanic sailor be true, expiated his negligence by shooting himself within sight of all the alleged victims huddled in lifeboats or struggling in the ICCs. When, at last, the danger was realized, the great ship was so close upon the berg that it was practically impossible to avoid collision with it. Vane trial to clear berg. The first officer did what others startled and alert commanders would have done under similar circumstances. That is, he made an effort by going full speed ahead on the starboard propeller and reversing his port propeller simultaneously, throwing his helm over to make a rapid turn and clear the berg. The maneuver was not successful. He succeeded in saving his bowels from crashing into the ice cliff, but nearly the entire length of the underbody of the great ship on the starboard side was ripped. The speed of the Titanic estimated to be at least 21 knots was so terrific that the knife-like edge of the iceberg spur protruding under the sea cut through her like a can opener. The Titanic was in 41.46 north latitude and 50.14 west longitude when she was struck, very near the spot on the wide Atlantic where the Carmania encountered a field of ice studded with great bergs on her voyage to New York, which ended on April 14th. It was really an ice pack due to an unusually severe winter in the North Atlantic. No less than 25 bergs, some of great hype were counted. The shock was almost imperceptible. The first officer did not apparently realize that the great ship had received her death wound and none of the passengers had the slightest suspicion that anything more than a usual minor sea accident had happened. Hundreds who had gone to their berths and were asleep were unawakened by the vibration. Bridge game, not disturbed. To illustrate the placidity with which practically all men regarded the accident, it is related that the Pierre Maricale, son of the vice admiral of the French navy, Lucien Smith, Paul Chevery, a French sculptor and AF Ormont, a cotton broker, were in the cafe Parisian playing bridge. The four calmly got up from the table and after walking on deck and looking over the rail, returned to their game. One of them had left his cigar on the car table and while the three others were gazing out on the sea, he remarked he couldn't afford to lose the smoke, returned for his cigar and came out again. They remained only for a few moments on deck and then resumed their game under the impression that the ship had stopped for reasons best known to the captain and not involving any danger to her. Later, in describing the scene that took place, Anne Maricale, who was among the survivors, said, when three quarters of a mile away we stopped, the spectacle before our eyes was in its way magnificent. In a very calm sea beneath a sky moonless but sown with millions of stars, the enormous Titanic lay on the water, illuminated from the water line to the boat deck. The bow was slowly sinking into the black water. The tendency of the whole ship's company, except the men in the engine department who were made aware of the danger by the in rushing water was to make light of, and in some instances, even to ridicule the thought of danger so substantial a fabric. The captain on deck, when Captain Smith came from the chart room onto the bridge, his first words were, close the emergency doors. They're already closed, sir, Mr. Murdock replied. Send to the carpenter and tell him to sound the ship was the next order. The message was sent to the carpenter but the carpenter never came up to report. He was probably the first man on the ship to lose his life. The captain then looked at the communicator which shows in what direction the ship is listing. He saw that she carried five degrees list to starboard. The ship was then rapidly settling forward. All the steam sirens were blowing. By the captain's orders, given in the next few minutes, the engines were put to work at pumping out the ship. Distressed signals were sent by the Marconi and rockets were sent up from the bridge by quartermaster row. All hands were ordered on deck. Passengers not alarmed. The blasting shriek of the sirens had not alarmed the great company of the Titanic because such steam calls are an incident of travel and seas were fogs roll. Many had gone to bed but the hour, 1140 p.m., was not too late for the friendly contact of saloons and smoking rooms. It was Sunday night and the ship's concert had ended but there were many hundreds up and moving among the gay lights and many on deck with their eyes strained toward the mysterious west where home lay. And in one jarring, breath-sweeping moment, all of these, asleep or awake, were at the mercy of chance. Few among the more than 2,000 aboard could have had a thought of danger. The man who had stood up in the smoking room to say the Titanic was vulnerable or that in a few minutes, two thirds of her people would be face to face with death would have been considered a fool or a lunatic. No ship ever sailed the seas that gave her passengers more confidence, more cool security. Within a few minutes, stewards and other members of the crew were sent round to arouse people. Some utterly refused to get up. The stewards had almost to force the doors of the state rooms to make the somnolent appreciate their peril and many of them, it is believed, were drowned like rats in a trap. Aster and wife strolled on deck. Colonel and Mrs. Aster were in their room and saw the ice vision flash by. They had not appreciably felt the gentle shock and supposed that nothing out of the ordinary had happened. They were both dressed and came on deck leisurely. William T. Steed, the London journalist, wandered on deck for a few minutes, stopping to talk to Frank Millip. What do they say is the trouble, he asked. Icebergs was the brief reply. Well, said Steed, I guess it is nothing serious. I'm going back to my cabin to read. From end to end on the mighty boat, officers were rushing about without much noise or confusion, but getting orders sharply. Captain Smith told the third officer to rush downstairs and see whether the water was coming in very fast. And, he added, take some armed guards along to see that the stokers and engineers stay at their posts. In two minutes, the officer returned. It looks pretty bad, sir, he said. The water is rushing in and feeling the bottom. The locks of the watertight compartments have been sprung by the shock. Give the command for all passengers to be on deck with life belts on. Through the length and breadth of the boat, upstairs and downstairs, on all decks, the cry rang out. All passengers on deck with life preservers. A sudden tremor of fear. For the first time, there was a feeling of panic. Husbands, salt for wives and children, families gathered together. Many who were asleep hastily caught up their clothing and rushed on deck. A moment before, the men had been joking about the life belts, according to the story told by Mrs. Vera Dick of Calgary, Canada. Try this one, one man said to her. They're the very latest thing this season. Everybody's wearing them now. Another man suggested to a woman friend who had a fox terrier in her arms that she should put a life saver on the dog. It won't fit, the woman replied, laughing. Make him carry it in his mouth, said the friend. Confusion among the immigrants. Below on the steerage deck, there was intense confusion. About the time the officers on the first deck gave the order that all men should stand on one side and all women should go below to deck B, taking the children with them, a similar order was given to the steerage passengers. The women were ordered to the front, the men to the rear. Half a dozen healthy, husky immigrants pushed their way forward and tried to crowd into the first boat. Stand back, shouted the officers who were manning the boat. The women come first. Shouting curses in various foreign languages, the immigrant men continued their pushing and tugging to climb into boats. Shots rang out. One big fella fell over the railing into the water. Another dropped to the deck moaning. His jaw had been shot away. This was the story told by the bystanders afterward on the pier. One husky Italian told the rider on the pier that the way in which the men were shot down was horrible. His sympathy was with the men who were shot. They were only trying to save their lives, he said. Wireless operator died at his post. On board the Titanic, the wireless operator with a life built about his waist was hitting the instrument that was sending out the CQD messages. Struck on iceberg, CQD. Shall I tell captain to turn back and help? Flash a reply from the Carpathia. Yes, old man. The Titanic wireless operator responded. Yes, we're sinking. An hour later when the second wireless man came into the box-like room to tell his companion what the situation was, he found a Negro stoker creeping up behind the operator and saw him raise a knife over his head. He said afterwards, he was among those rescued, that he realized at once that the Negro intended to kill the operator in order to take his life belt from him. The second operator pulled out his revolver and shot the Negro dead. What was the trouble, asked the operator. That Negro was going to kill you and steal your life belt, the second man replied. Thanks, old man, said the operator. The second man went on deck to get some more information. He was just in time to jump overboard before the Titanic went down. The wireless operator in the body of the Negro who tried to steal his belt went down together. On the deck, where the first-class passengers were quartered, known as deck A, there was none of the confusion that was taking place on the lower decks. The Titanic was standing without much rocking. The captain had given an order and the band was playing. End of chapter five of The Sinking of the Titanic and Great Sea Disasters, read by Allison Hester. Chapter six of The Sinking of the Titanic and Great Sea Disasters. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. This reading by Allison Hester of Athens, Georgia. The Sinking of the Titanic and Great Sea Disasters, edited by Logan Marshall. Chapter six, women and children first. Cool-headed officers and crew bring order out of chaos, filling the lifeboats, heart-rending scenes as families are parted. Four lifeboats lost, incidents of bravery. The boats are filled. Once on the 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, 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 lifeboat by his nurse and was taken in charge by Major Arthur Puchin. The lifeboats 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 lifeboats and the crews allotted to each standing by ready to lower them into 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 ladder, 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 lifeboats under instructions from officers and men in charge were rode a considerable distance from the ship herself in order to get away from the possible suction that would follow her foundering. Coolest men on board. Captain Smith and Major Archibald Butt, military aid 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 lifeboat went wrong. Major Butt stepped over to them and said, really, you must not act like that. We were 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, 50 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 damn bone in your body. Forced men used surfing 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 lifeboat 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, and 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. Ms. 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 around 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 gun well of the boat and lifting his hat, smiled down at me. Goodbye, 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 Aster, another Hebrew. Colonel Aster was another of the heroes of the awful night. Effort was made to persuade him to take a place in one of the lifeboats, but he emphatically refused to do so until every woman and child on board had been provided for, not accepting the women members of the ship's company. One of the passengers describing the consummate courage of Colonel Aster said, he led Mrs. Aster to the side of the ship and helped her to the lifeboat 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 Aster 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 Aster 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. Hippetch and her daughter Jean, survivors of the Titanic, said they were saved by Colonel John Jacob Aster, who forced the crew of the last lifeboat to wait for them. We saw Colonel Aster place Mrs. Aster in a boat and assure her that he would follow her later, said Mrs. Hippetch. 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 Aster exclaimed, hold that boat. In the voice of a man accustomed to being 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 porthole. Heartbreaking 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 watertight 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 56 foot life boats was being filled. Fully 10 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 screamed with fear, struggled to their feet and made a second attempt to rush the boat. About 10 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 towards 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 number two on the starboard side janned. The second officer was hacking at the ropes with a knife when I was being dragged around the deck by that rope when I looked up and saw the boat with all aboard turned turtle. In some way, I got overboard myself and clung to an oak dresser. I wasn't more than 60 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 lifeboats 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, goodbye, 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 15 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 the 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 10 women from the upper decks were the only cool passengers in the lifeboat 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. Robling and Howard Case, London representative of the vacuum oil company. Both were urged repeatedly to take places in lifeboats but scoring 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 19 year old daughter, Margaret. Afterwards relating some of her experiences, Mrs. Graham said, there was a wrap at the door. It was a passenger whom we had met shortly after the ship left Liverpool and his name was Robling, Washington A. Robling. He was a gentleman and a brave man. He warned us of the danger and told us 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 gang ways, I met an officer of the ship. What's 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. Robling came up too and told us to hurry and get into the third boat. Mr. Robling 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. Robling and Mr. Case stood at the rail and made no attempt to get into the boat. They shouted goodbye to us. What do you think Mr. Case did then? He just calmly lighted a cigarette and waved us goodbye with his hand. Mr. Robling 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 its majority. Death and the darkness of a wintry sea studded with its ice monuments like the marble shafts and 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 sublimus 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. Strauss. I will not leave my husband, said Mrs. Isidore Strauss. 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 had 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. JJ Brown of Denver, the mother of several children. Miss Evans was the first to volunteer to yield to another. The 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 25 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 rode. 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 17 more than were carried. This too was under manned and the two women at once took their places at the oars. The Countess of Rhodes was pulling at the oars of her boat, likewise under manned, because the crew preferred to stay behind. Ms. Bentham of Rochester showed splendid courage. She happened to be in a lifeboat 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. Ms. Bentham arose from her place and had the man turn around while she took his place with her feet in the water. Scarcely any of the lifeboats 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, 18 or 20 persons sat in water above their knees for six hours. The lifeboats being lowered. In one lifeboat, 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 Count's 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 lifeboats beginning forward on the port side, working aft and then back on the starboard. This man paid the fireman 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 on 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. Lightholer, the second officer, was one of them. It's 31 lives against yours, he said. You can't come aboard, there's not room. I pleaded with him in vain and then I confessed I prayed that somebody might die so I could take his place. It was only human. And then someone did die and they let me aboard. By and by, we saw seven lifeboats lash 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 a terrible scene 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 had 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. Kay Whiteman of Palmyra, New Jersey, the Titanic's barber, was lowering boats on the deck after the collision and declared the officers on the bridge. One of them, First Officer Murdoch, promptly worked the electrical apparatus for closing the watertight compartments. He believed the machinery was in some way 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 15 feet. After the water had filled the forward compartments, the ones at the stern could not save her, although they did delay the ships going down. If it wasn't for the compartments, hardly anyone could have gotten away. A sad message. One of the Titanic 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 out on his outer garments, said to the steward, 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 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 50 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 lifeboats of the Titanic being filled and lowered into the water, said Mr. Williams. The water was nearly up to our wastes and the ship was about at her last. Suddenly, one of the great funnels fell. I sprang aside, endeavoring to pull my 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 we 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 Emil Portaleppi of Italy in his hair-breadth 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 on to a cake of ice, he managed to keep afloat until one of the lifeboats picked him up. There were 35 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 cure in human shape, today the most despicable human being in all the world. In that grim midnight hour, already great in history, he found himself hemmed in by the band of heroes whose watch for an encounter sign 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 lifeboats 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 them get away safe. 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 reread that deathless role of honor of the dead are still wet with tears of pity and 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 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 lifeboats 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, healing at an angle of nearly 45 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 were 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 lifeboats and was taken aboard. Said one survivor, speaking of the men who remained on the ship, there they stood, major but, Colonel Laster, waving a farewell to his wife, Mr. Thayer, Mr. Case, Mr. Clarence Moore, Mr. Weidner, 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? 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 too many to be in the frail boats in the vast relentless sea and that some men had to be tumbled into the boat under orders from the officers. Others expressed 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 imidigable tragedy is the fact that so many of the men still decide 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 bedding, 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 and 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. End of chapter six of Sinking of the Titanic in Great Sea Disasters. Read by Allison Hester.