 Part 1 of Chapter 12 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. Today's reading by Allison Hester of Athens, Georgia. The Sinking of the Titanic and Great Sea Disasters, edited by Logan Marshall, Chapter 12. The Tragic Homecoming The Carpathia reaches New York. An intense and dramatic moment. Hysterical reunions and crushing disappointments at the dock. Caring for the sufferers. Final realization that all hope for others is futile. List of survivors. Role of the dead. It was a solemn moment when the Carpathia heaved in sight. There she rested on the water. A blur of black. Huge, mysterious, all-inspiring, and yet with all a thing to send thrills of pity and then of admiration through the beholder. It was a few minutes after seven o'clock when she arrived at the entrance to Ambrose Channel. She was coming fast, steaming at better than 15 knots an hour, and she was sighted long before she was expected. Except for the usual side and mast head lights, she was almost dark. Only the upper cabin showing a glimmer here and there. Then began a period of waiting. The suspense, of which proved almost too much for the hundreds gathered there to greet friends and relatives, or to learn with certainty at last that those for whom they watched would never come ashore. There was almost complete silence on the pier. Doctors and nurses, members of the Women's Relief Committee, city and government officials, as well as officials of the line, moved nervously about. Seated, where they had been assigned beneath the big customs letters corresponding to the initials of the names of the survivors they came to meet, sat the mass of 2,000 on the pier. Women wept, but they wept quietly, not hysterically, and the sound of the sobs made many times less noise than the hum and bustle, which is usual on the pier, among those awaiting an incoming liner. Slowly and majestically, the ship slid through the water, still bearing the details of that secret of what happened and who perished when the Titanic met her fate. Convoying the Carpathia was a fleet of tugs bearing men and women anxious to learn the latest news. The Cunarder had been a silent for days, as though it too were a ship of the dead. A list of survivors had been given out from its wireless station and that was all. Even the approximate time of its arrival had been kept a secret. There was no response to the hail from one tug, and as others closed in, the steam ship quickened her speed a little and left them behind as she swung up the channel. There was an exploding of flashlights from some of the tugs, answered seemingly by sharp stabs of lightning in the northwest that served to accentuate the silence and absence of light aboard the rescue ship. Five or six persons, apparently members of the crew or the ship's officers, were seen along the rail, but otherwise the boat appeared to be deserted. Off quarantine, the Carpathia slowed down and, hailing the immigration inspection boat, asked if the health officer wished to board. She was told that he did and came to a stop while Dr. O'Connell and two assistants climbed on board. Again, the newspaper men asked for some word of the catastrophe to the Titanic, but there was no answer and the Carpathia continued toward her pier. As she passed the revenue cutter Mohawk and the derelict destroyer Seneca, anchored off Tonkensville, the wireless on the government vessels was seen to flash, but there was no answering spark from the Carpathia. Entering the North River, she laid her course close to the New Jersey side in order to have room to swing into her pier. By this time, the rails were lined with men and women. They were very silent. There were a few requests for news from those on board and a few answers to questions shouted from the tugs. The liner began to slacken her speed and the tugboat soon went alongside. Up above the inky blackness of the hull, figures could be made out, leaning over the port railing as though peering eagerly at the little craft which was bearing down on the Carpathia. Some of them, perhaps, had passed through that inferno of the deep sea, which sprang up to destroy the mightiest steamship afloat. Carpathia ahoy was shouted through a megaphone. There was an interval of a few seconds and then, aye aye, came the reply. Is there any assistance that can be rendered? was the next question. Thank you, no, was the answer in a tone that carried emotion with it. Meantime, the tugboat was getting nearer and nearer to the Carpathia and soon the faces of those leaning over the railing could be distinguished. Talk with survivors. More faces appeared and still more. A woman who called to a man on the tugboat was asked, are you one of the Titanic survivors? Yes, said the voice, hesitatingly. Do you need help? No, after a pause. If there is anything you want done, it will be attended to. Thank you, I have been informed that my relatives will meet me at the pier. Is it true that some of the lifeboats sank with the Titanic? Yes, there was some trouble in manning them. They were not far enough away from her. All of this questioning and receiving replies was carried on with the greatest difficulty. The pounding of the liner's engines, the washing of the sea, the tugboat's engines made it hard to understand the woman's replies. All cared for on board. Were the women properly cared for after the crash? She was asked. Oh yes, came the shrill reply. The men were brave, very brave. Here her voice broke and she turned and left the railing to reappear a few moments later and cry. Please report me as saved. What name was asked? She shouted a name that could not be understood and apparently believing that it had been turned away again and disappeared. Nearly all of us are very ill, cried another woman. Here several other tugboats appeared and those standing at the railing were besieged with questions. Did the crash come on without warning? A voice on one of the smaller boat's megaphone? Yes, a woman answered. Most of us had retired. We saved a few of our belongings. How long did it take the boat to sink? Asked the voice. Titanic crew, he rose. Not long, came the reply. The crew and the men were very brave. Oh it is dreadful, dreadful to think of. Is Mr. John Jacob Astor on board? No. Did he remain on the Titanic after the collision? I do not know. Questions of this kind were showered at the few survivors who stood at the railing, but they seemed too confused to answer them intelligibly, and after replying evasively to some, they would disappear. Rushes on to dock. Are you going to anchor for the night? Captain Rostron was asked by Megaphone as his boat approached Ambrose Light. It was then raining heavily. No, came the reply. I am going into port. There are sick people on board. We tried to learn when she would dock, said Dr. Walter Kennedy, head of the big ambulance corpse on the mist shrouded pier, and we were told it would not be before midnight, and that most probably it would not be before dawn tomorrow. The childish deception that has been practiced for days by the people who are responsible for the Titanic has been carried up to the very moment of the landing of the survivors. She proceeded past the Kunard Pier, where 2,000 persons were waiting her, and steamed to a spot opposite the White Star Peers at 21st Street. The ports in the big and closed pier of the Kunard Line were opened, and through them, the waiting hundreds, almost frantic with anxiety over what the Carpathia might reveal, watched her as with nerve-destroying leisure she swung about in the river, dropping over the lifeboats of the Titanic that they might be taken to the piers of the White Star Line. The Titanic Lifeboats. It was dark in the river, but the lowering away of the lifeboats could be seen from the Carpathia's pier, and a deep sigh arose from the multitude there as they caught this first glance of anything associated with the Titanic. Then the Carpathia started for her own pier. As she approached it, the ports on the north side of Pier 54 were closed that the Carpathia might land there, but through the two left open to accommodate the forward and after-gang plates of the big liner, the watchers could see her looming larger and larger in the darkness, till finally she was directly alongside the pier. As the boats were towed away, the picture-taking and shouting of questions began again. John Badnotch, a buyer for Macian Company, called down to a representative of the firm that neither Mr. nor Mrs. Isidore Strauss were among the rescued on board the Carpathia. An officer of the Carpathia called down that 710 of the Titanic's passengers were on board, but refused to reply to other questions. The heavy haulsers were made fast without the customary shouting of ship's officers and pier hands. From the crowd on the pier came a long, shuttering murmur. In it were blended sighs and hundreds of whispers. The burden of it all was, here they come. Anxious men and women About each gang-plate, a portable fence had been put in place, marking off some 50 feet of the pier within which stood 100 or more customs officials. Next to the fence, crowded close against it, were anxious men and women, their gaze strained for a glance of the first from the ship, their mouths open to draw their breaths and spasmodic, quivering gasps, their bodies shaking with suppressed excitement, excitement which only the suspense itself was keeping in subjection. These were the husbands and wives, children, parents, sweethearts, and friends of those who had sailed upon the Titanic on its maiden voyage. They pressed to the head of the pier, marking the boats of the wrecked ship as they dangled at the side of the Carpathia and were revealed in the sudden flashes of the photographers upon the tugs. They spoke in whispers, each group intent upon its own sad business. Newspaper writers, with pier passes showing in their hat bands were everywhere. A sailor hurried outside the fence and disappeared, apparently on a mission for his company. There was a deep-drawn sigh as he walked away, shaking his head toward those who peered eagerly at him. Then came a man and woman of the Carpathia's own passengers, as their orderly dress showed them to be. Again, a sigh like a sob swept over the crowd and again they turned back to the canopy gangplank. The first survivors. Several minutes passed and then out of the first cabin gangway, tunneled by a somber awning streamed the first survivors. A young woman, hatless, her light brown hair disordered and the laden weight of the crushing sorrow heavy upon eyes and sensitive mouth was in the van. She stopped perplexed, almost ready to drop with terror and exhaustion and was caught by a customs official. A survivor, he questioned rapidly and in out of the head answering him, he demanded, your name. The answer given, he started to lead her toward that section of the pier where her friends would be waiting. When she stepped from the gangplank, there was quiet on the pier. The answers of the woman could almost be heard by those fifty feet away, but as she staggered, rather than walks, toward the waiting, throng outside the fence, a low wailing sound arose from the crowd. Dorothy, Dorothy, cried a man from the number. He broke through the double line of customs inspectors as though it was composed of wooden toys and caught the woman to his breast. She opened her lips in articulately, weakly raised her arms and would have pitched forward upon her face had she not been supported. Her fair head fell weakly to one side as the man picked her up in his arms and with tears streaming down his face staults down the long avenue of the pier and down the long stairway to a waiting taxi cab. The wailing of the crowd, its catences, wild and weird, grew steadily louder and louder till they culminated in a mighty shriek which swept the whole big pier as though at the direction of some master hand. Rumors afloat. The arrival of the Carpathia was the signal for the most sensational rumors to circulate through the crowd on the pier. First, Mrs. John Jacob Astor was reported to have died at 8.06 o'clock when the Carpathia was on her way up the harbor. Captain Smith and the first engineer were reported to have shot themselves when they found that the Titanic was doomed to sink. Afterward, it was learned that Captain Smith and the engineer went down with their ship in perfect courage and coolness. Major Archibald Butt, President Taft's military aide was said to have entered into an agreement with George D. Weidner, Colonel John Jacob Astor and Isdore Strauss to kill them first and then shoot himself before the boat sank. It was sad that this agreement had been carried out. Later, it was shown that, like many other men on the ship, they had gone down without the exhibition of a sign of fear. Mrs. Cornell's safe. Magistrate Cornell's wife and her two sisters were among the first to leave the ship. They were met at the first cabin pier entrance by Magistrate Cornell and a party of friends. None of the three women had hats. One of those who met them was Magistrate Cornell's son. One of Mrs. Cornell's sisters was overheard to remark that. It would be a dreadful thing when the ship began really to unload. The three women appeared to be in a very nervous state. Their hair was more or less disheveled. They were apparently fully dressed, save for their hats. Clothing had been supplied them in their need and everything had been done to make them comfortable. One of the parties said that the collision occurred at 9.45. Following closely, the Cornell party was H.J. Allison of Montreal who came to meet his family. One of the party who was weeping bitterly as he left the pier explained that the only one of the family that was rescued was the young brother. Mrs. Astor appeared. In a few minutes, young Mrs. Astor with her maid appeared. She came down the gang plank, unassisted. She was wearing a white sweater. Vincent Astor and William Dobbin, Colonel Astor's secretary, greeted her and hurried her to a waiting limousine which contained clothing and other necessities of which it was thought she might be in need. The young woman was white-faced and silent. Nobody cared to intrude upon her thoughts. Her stepson said little to her. He did not feel like questioning her at such a time, he said. Last scene of Colonel Astor. Walter M. Clark, a nephew of the senator, said that he had seen Colonel Astor put his wife in a boat after assuring her that he would soon follow her in another. Mr. Clark and others said that Colonel and Mrs. Astor were in their suite when the crash came and that they appeared quietly on deck a few minutes afterward. Here and there among the passengers of the Carpathia and from the survivors of the Titanic, the story was gleaned of the rescue. Nothing in life will ever approach the joy felt by the hundreds who were waiting in little boats on the spot where the Titanic floundered when the lights of the Carpathia were first distinguished. That was at four o'clock on Monday morning. Dr. Fraunthal welcomed. Efforts were made to learn from Dr. Henry Fraunthal something about the details of how he was rescued. Just then, or as he was leaving the pier, beaming with evident delight, he was surrounded by a big crowd of his friends. There's Harry, there he is. They yelled and made a rush for him. All the doctor's face that wasn't covered with red beard was a glow with smiles as his friends hugged him and slapped him on the back. They rushed him off bodily through the crowd and he too was world home. A sad story. How others followed, how heart-rending stories of partings and of thrilling rescues were poured out in an amazing stream. This has all been told over and over again in the news that for days amazed, saddened and angered the entire world. It is the story of a disaster that nations, it is hoped, will make impossible in the years to come. In the stream of survivors were a peer of the realm Sir Cosmo Duff Gordon and his secretary, side by side with plain Jack Jones of Birmingham, Abel Seaman, millionaires and paupers, women with bags of jewels and others with nightgowns their only property. More than 70 widows. More than 70 widows were in the Weeping Company. The only large family that was saved in its entirety was that of the Carters of Philadelphia. Contrasting with this remarkable salvage of wealthy Pennsylvanians, was the sleeping 11-month-old baby of the Allicens, whose father, mother and sister went down to death after it, and its nurse had been placed in a lifeboat. Millionaire and pauper, titled Grandee and Weeping Immigrant, Ismay, the head of the White Star Company, and Jack Jones from the Stokehole, were surrounded instantly. Some would gladly have escaped observation. Every man among the survivors acted as though it were first necessary to explain how he came to be in a lifeboat. Some of the stories smacked of Minkalsen. Others were as plain and unvarnished as a pike staff. Those that were the most sincere and trustworthy had to be fairly pulled from those who gave their sad testimony. Far into the night, the recitals were made. They were told in the rooms of hotels, in the wards of hospitals, and upon trains that sped towards saddened homes. It was a symposium of horror and heroism, the like of which has not been known in the civilized world since man established his dominion over the sea. Steerage passengers The 200 and more steerage passengers did not leave the ship until 11 o'clock. They were in a sad condition. The women were without wraps, and the few men there were were very little clothing. A poor Syrian woman who said she was Mrs. Habush, bound for Youngstown, Ohio, carried in her arms a six-year-old baby girl. This woman had lost her husband and three brothers. I lost four of my men, folks, she cried. Two little boys Among the survivors who elicited a large measure of sympathy were two little French boys who were dropped, almost naked, from the deck of the sinking Titanic into a lifeboat. From what place in France did they come, and to what place in the new world were they bound? There was not one iota of information to be had as the identity of the waves of the deep, the orphans of the Titanic. The two baby boys, two and four years old respectively, were in charge of Ms. Margaret Hayes, who is a fluent speaker of French, and she had tried vainly to get from the lisping lips of the two little ones some information that would lead to the finding of their relatives. Ms. Hayes, also a survivor of the Titanic, took charge of the almost naked waves on the Carpathia. She became warmly attached to the two boys who unconcernedly played about, not understanding the great tragedy that had come into their lives. The two little curly heads did not understand it at all, had not their pretty 19-year-old foster mother provided them with pretty suits and little white shoes and playthings aplenty? Then too, Ms. Hayes had a palm dog that she brought with her from Paris, and which she carried in her arms when she left the Titanic, and held to her bosom throughout the long night in the lifeboat, and to which the children became warmly attached. All three became aliens on an alien shore. Ms. Hayes, unable to learn the names of the little fellows, had dubbed the older Louis and the younger Lump. Lump was all that his name implies, for he weighed almost as much as his brother. They were dark-eyed and brown, curly-haired children who knew how to smile as only French children can. On the fateful night of the Titanic disaster, and just as the last boats were pulling away with their human freight, a man rushed to the rail holding the babes under his arms. He cried to the passengers in one of the boats, and held the children aloft. Three or four sailors and passengers held up their arms. The father dropped the older boy. He was safely caught. Then he dropped the little fellow, and saw him folded in the arms of a sailor. Then the boat pulled away. The last scene of the father, whose last living act was to save his babes, he was waving his hand in a final parting. Then the Titanic plunged to the ocean's bed. Baby Travers Still more pitiable in one way was the lot of the baby survivor, eleven months old, Travers Allison, the only member of a family afford to survive the wreck. His father, H.J. Allison, and mother, and Lorraine, a child of three, were victims of the catastrophe. Baby Travers, in the excitement following the crash, was separated from the rest of the family just before the Titanic went down. With the party were two nurses and a maid. Major Arthur Puchin of Montreal, one of the survivors standing near the little fellow, who swat then blankets, lay blinking at his nurse, described the death of Mrs. Allison. She had gone to the deck without her husband, and frantically seeking him, was directed by an officer to the other side of the ship. She failed to find Mr. Allison, and was quickly hustled into one of the collapsible lifeboats, and when last seen by Major Puchin, she was toppling out of the half swamped boat. J.W. Allison, a cousin of H.J. Allison, was at the pier to care for Baby Travers and his nurse. They were taken to the Manhattan Hotel. Describing the details of the perishing of the Allison family, the rescued nurse said they were all in bed when the Titanic hit the berg. We did not get up immediately, said she, for we had not thought of any danger. Later, we were told to get up, and I hurriedly dressed the baby. We hastened up on deck, and confusion was all about. With other women and children, we clambered to the lifeboats, just as a matter of precaution, believing there was no immediate danger. In about an hour, there was an explosion, and the ship appeared to fall apart. We were in the lifeboat about six hours before we were picked up. The Ryerson family Probably few deaths have caused more tears than Arthur Ryerson's in view of the sad circumstances which called him home from a lengthy tour in Europe. Mr. Ryerson's eldest son, Arthur Lennard Ryerson, a Yale student, was killed in an automobile accident Easter Monday, 1912. A cablegram announcing the death plunged the Ryerson family into mourning, and they boarded the first steamship for this country. It happened to be the Titanic, and the death note came near being the cause of the blotting out of the entire family. The children who accompanied them were Ms. Susan P. Ryerson, Ms. Emily B. Ryerson, and John Ryerson. The latter is now 12 years old. They did not know their son intended to spend the Easter holidays at their home in Harvard, Pennsylvania, until they were informed of his death. John Lewis Hoffman, also of Haverford, and a student of Yale, was killed with young Ryerson. The two were hurrying to Pennsylvania to escort a fellow student to his train. In turning out of the road to Pasacart, the motor car crashed into a pole in front of the entrance to the estate of Mrs. B. Frank Clyde. The college men were picked up unconscious and died in the Braun Maher Hospital. G. Hyde Norris of Philadelphia, who went to New York to meet the surviving members of the Ryerson family, told of a happy incident at the last moment as the Carpathias swung close to the pier. There had been no positive information that young Jack Ryerson was among those saved. Indeed, it was fear that he had gone down with the Titanic, like his father, Arthur Ryerson. Mr. Norris spoke of the feeling of relief that came over him as, watching from the pier, he saw Jack Ryerson come from a cabin and stand at the railing. The name of the boy was missing from some of the lists, and for two days, it was reported he had perished. Captain Rostren's report. Less than 24 hours after the Cunard Line steamship Carpathia came in as a rescue ship with survivors of the Titanic disaster, she sailed again for the Mediterranean cruise, which she had originally started upon last week. Just before the liner sailed, H.S. Bride, the second Marconi wireless operator of the Titanic, who had both of his legs crushed on a lifeboat, was carried off on the shoulders of the steamship's officers to St. Vincent's Hospital. Captain A.H. Rostren of the Carpathia addressed an official report giving his account of the Carpathias rescue work to the general manager of the Cunard Line, Liverpool. The report read, I beg to report that at 12.35 a.m. Monday, I was informed of urgent message from Titanic with her position. I immediately ordered ship turned around and put her in course for that position, we being then 58 miles south, 52 east from her. All heads of all departments called and issued what I considered the necessary orders to be in preparation for any emergency. At 2.40 a.m., Sol Flair half a point on Port Vow, taking this for granted to be shipped shortly after we sighted our first iceberg. I had previously had lookouts doubled, knowing that the Titanic had struck ice and so took every care and precaution. We soon found ourselves in a field of bergs and had to alter course several times to clear the bergs, weather fine and clear, light air on sea, beautifully clear night, though dark. We stopped at 4 a.m., thus doing distance in three hours and a half, picking up the first boat at 4.10 a.m., boat in charge of officer, and he had reported that Titanic had foundered at 8.30 a.m., last boat picked up. All survivors aboard and all boats accounted for. 15 life boats, one boat abandoned, two berth and boats alongside, saw one floating upwards among wreckage, and according to second officer, senior officer saved, one berth and boat had not been launched, it having got jammed, making 16 life boats and four berth and boats accounted for. By the time we had cleared first boat, it was breaking day and I could see all within area of four miles. We also saw that we were surrounded by icebergs, large and small, huge field of drift ice with large and small bergs in it, the ice field trending from northwest round west to south to southeast, as far as we could see either way. At 8 a.m., the Leyland SS California came up. I gave him the principal news and asked him to search, and I would proceed to New York. At 8.50, proceeded full speed while researching over vicinity of disaster, and while we were getting people aboard, I gave orders to get spare hands along and swing in all our boats, disconnect the fall, and hoist up as many Titanic boats as possible in our davits. Also get some on four castle heads by Derek's. We got 13 life boats, six on forward deck and seven in davits. After getting all survivors aboard and while searching, I got a clergyman to offer a short prayer of thankfulness for those saved and also a short burial service for their loss in Saloon. Before deciding definitely where to make for, I conferred with Mr. Ismay and as he told me to do what I thought best, I informed him, I considered New York best. I knew we should require clean blankets, provisions and clean linen, even if we went to the Azores. As most of the passengers saved were women and children and they hysterical, not knowing what medical attention they might require. I thought it best to go to New York. I also thought it would be better for Mr. Ismay to go to New York or England as soon as possible, and knowing I should be out of wireless communication very soon if I proceeded to Azores. It left Halifax, Boston and New York, so I chose the latter. Again, the passengers were all hysterical about ice and I pointed out to Mr. Ismay the possibilities of seeing ice if I went to Halifax. Then I knew it would be best to keep in touch with land stations as best I could. We have experienced great difficulty in transmitting news, also names of survivors. Our wireless is very poor and again we have had so many interruptions from other ships and also messages from shore, principally press, which we ignored. I gave instructions to send first all official messages, then names of passengers, then survivors' private messages. We had haze early Tuesday morning for several hours, again more or less all Wednesday from 5.30 a.m. to 5 p.m. strong south southwestern winds and clear weather Thursday with moderate rough sea. I am pleased to say that all survivors have been very plucky. The majority of women, first, second and third class, lost their husbands and considering all have been wonderfully well. Tuesday our doctor reported all survivors physically well. Our first class passengers have behaved splendidly, given up their cabins voluntarily and supplied the ladies with clothes, etc. We all turned out of our cabins and gave them to survivors, saloon, smoking room, library, etc., also being used for sleeping accommodation. Our crew also turned out to let the crew of the Titanic take their quarters. I am pleased to state that owing to preparations made for the comfort of survivors, none were the worse for exposure, etc. I beg to specially mention how willing and cheerful the whole of the ship's company behaved, receiving the very highest praise from everybody. And I can assure you, I am very proud to have such a company under my command. A. H. Rostron End of Part 1 of Chapter 12 Chapter 12, Part 2 of The Sinking of the Titanic in 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 in Great Sea Disasters. Edited by Logan Marshall. Chapter 12, Part 2 The following list of the survivors and dead contains the latest revisions and corrections of the White Star Line officials and was furnished by them exclusively for this book. List of survivors First Cabin Anderson Harry Antoinette Miss A Pyramelt Miss Appleton Mrs. E. D. Abbott Mrs. Rose Allison Master and Nurse Andrews Miss Cornelia I Allen Miss E. W. Aster Mrs. John Jacob Enmaid Albert Monsours Enmaid Barrett Carl B. Bissette Miss Barkworth A. H. Bucknell Mrs. W. Bowerman Miss E. Brown Mrs. J. J. Burns Miss C. M. Bishop Mr. and Mrs. D. H. Blank H. Bessina Miss A. Baxter Mrs. James Brayton George Monal Miss Lily Brown Mrs. J. M. Bowen Miss G. C. Beckwith Mr. and Mrs. R. L. Bisley Mr. and Mrs. Bunnell Miss C. Casabir Mrs. H. A. Cardesa Mrs. J. W. Candale Mrs. Churchill Case Howard B. Camerion Canard Casaboro Miss D. D. Clark Mrs. W. M. Chibiness Mrs. B. C. Charlton W. M. Crosby Mrs. E. G. Carter Mrs. Lucille Calderhead E. P. Chendansen Miss Victoria Cavendish Mrs. Terrell and Made Chaffee Mrs. H. I. Cardesa Mr. Thomas Cummings Mrs. J. Chevry Paul Cherry Miss Gladys Chambers Mr. and Mrs. N. C. Carter Mr. and Mrs. W. E. Carter Master William Compton Mrs. A. T. Compton Miss S. R. Crosby Mrs. E. G. Crosby Miss Harriet Cornell Mrs. R. C. Chibnall Mrs. E. Douglas Mrs. Fred David Lures Monsure Daniel Mrs. Sarah Daniel Robert W. Davidson Mr. and Mrs. Thornton and Family Douglas Mrs. Walter and Made Dodge Mrs. Sarah Dodge Mrs. Washington and Son Dick Mr. and Mrs. A. A. Danielle H. Herron Drudsenstead A. Dali Peter D. Andres Miss Caroline Ellis Miss Earnshaw Mrs. Bolton Eustace Miss E. Emuk Philip E. Flagenheim Mrs. Antoinette Frenicatelli Misey Finn J. I. Fortune Miss Alice Fortune Miss Ethel Fortune Mrs. Mark Fortune Miss Mabel Frauenthal Dr. and Mrs. H. W. Frauenthal Mr. and Mrs. T. G. Froletcher Ms. Margaret Froletcher May and Mrs. Froletcher Ms. N. Futrell Mrs. Jocks Gracie Colonel Archibald Graham Mr. and Mrs. William Graham Ms. M. Gordon Sir Cosmo Duff Gordon Lady Gibson Ms. Dorothy Goldenberg Mr. and Mrs. Samuel Goldenberg Ms. Ella Greenfield Mrs. LP Greenfield G.B. Greenfield William Gibson Mrs. Leonard Gouch James Haven Mr. Henry B. Harris Mrs. H.B. Holverson Mrs. Alex Hodgboom Mrs. J.C. Hulksford W.J. Harper Henry and Man Servant Harper Mrs. H.S. Hold Ms. J.A. Hope Nina Hoyt Mr. and Mrs. Fred Horner Henry R. Harder Mr. and Mrs. George Hayes Mrs. Charles M. and Daughter Hippetch Ms. Jean Hippetch Mrs. Ida S Ifmay J. Bruce Janosco Mrs. J Kimball Mr. and Mrs. Ed N Kineman F.A. Kenshin Ms. Emile Longley Ms. G.F. Leader Ms. A.F. Leahy Ms. Nora Lavery Ms. Bertha Lines Mrs. Ernest Lines Ms. Mary Lindstrom Mrs. Sengard Lesnure Gustav Jr Madill Ms. Torgette A Mayhem Ms. Mellicard Monsieurs Menderson Ms. Leta Maymay Ms. Roberta Marvin Ms. D.W Merchelle Pied Maroney Ms. R Meyer Ms. E.I Mock Mr. P.E Middle Monsieurs M. Ojivi Menahen Ms. Daisy Menahen Ms. W.E Macau James Newell Ms. Alice Newell Ms. Madeleine Newell Washington Neusen Ms. Helen O'Connell Ms. R Ostby E.C. Ostby Ms. Helen Omond Fiamm Panhart Ms. Nenette Pears Ms. E Pomroy Ms. Ellen Potter Ms. Thomas Jr. Puchin Major Arthur Piercalt Ms. A Ryerson John Renago Ms. Mamam Remelt Ms. Appie Rothschild Ms. Lord Martin Rosenbaum Ms. Edith Rhymes Mr. and Ms. George Rosable Ms. H Rhodes Countess Robert Ms. Edna Rolemaine C. Ryerson Alise Susan P Ryerson Ms. Emily Ryerson Ms. Arthur and Made Stone Ms. George M Skeller Ms. William Segacer Ms. Emma Seward Fred Kay Shutter Ms. Sloper William T Swift Ms. J. Joel Shovert Ms. Paul Shadelle Robert Douglas Snyder Mr. and Ms. John Serapica Alise Agusta Silver Tieran R. Spencer Sailfield Adolph Stahelin Max Siminois Alphonsus Smith Ms. Lucy NP Stevenson Ms. Walter Solomon Abraham Sylvie Ms. William B Stenmal Mr. and Ms. Hillary Spencer Ms. W.A. and Made Slater Ms. Hilda Spedden Mr. and Ms. F. O. and Child Stephenson H.B. Strauss Ms. Made of Shawbert Ms. Emma Slinter Ms. E. Simmons A Taylor Ms. Tucker Ms. and Made Thayer Ms. J.B. Thayer J.B. Jr. Tossig Ms. Ruth Tossig Ms. E Thor Ms. Ella Thorn Ms. G Taylor Mr. and Ms. E. Z Trout Ms. Jessie Tucker Gilbert Wolner Hugh Ward Ms. Anna Williams Richard M. Jr Warren Ms. P Wilson Ms. Helen A Williard Ms. C Wick Ms. Mary Wick Geo Widener Valet of Widener Ms. George D. and Made White Ms. J. Stewart Young Ms. Marie List of Survivors Second Cabin Abasin Ms. Manna Abbott Ms. R Argenia Ms. and Two Children Angel F. Angle William Balmthorpe Ms. L Balls Ms. Ada E Bus Ms. Kate Becker Ms. A. O. and Three Children Bean Edward Bean Ms. Ethel Brighie Ms. D Beasley Mr. L Brown Mr. TWS Brown Ms. E Brown Ms. Bentham Lillian W Bystron Carolina Bright Dagmar Bright Daisy Clark Ms. Ada Cameron Ms. C Caldwell Albert F Caldwell Ms. Sylvan Caldwell Alden Infant Christy Mr. and Mrs. Collier Ms. Charlotte Collier Ms. Marjorie Christy Ms. Alice Collette Stithard Christa Ms. Disha Charles William Croft Millie Mall Dolling Ms. Elise Drew Ms. Lulu Davis Ms. Agnes Davis Ms. Mary Davis John M Duvon Florentine Duvon Mibs A Davidson Ms. Mary Dolling Ms. Ada Driscoll Ms. B Dijstrom Caroline M. Carmesion Mrs. Rinalda Bonthorpe Ms. Lizzie Formery Ms. Ellen Garcide Ethel Garrachi Ms. Marcy Genovese Angier Hart Mrs. Esther Hart Eva Harris George Hewlett Mrs. Mary Heber Ms. S Hoffman Lola Hoffman Lewis Harper Nina Hold Stephen Hold Ms. Anna Hawking Mr. and Mrs. George Hawking Ms. Nelly Herman Mrs. Jane Two Daughters Healy Nora Hanson Jeanie Hematheon W Hematheon Anna Harnlyn Anna and Child Illet Bertha Jackson Mrs. Amy Juliette Levinch Joanne Mary Johan Poldrell Jacobson Mrs Keen Ms. Nora H Kelly Mrs. F Kentar Mrs. A Leich Jesse Laroche Mrs. and Ms. Simone Laroche Ms. Louise Lehmann Bertha Launch Mrs. Alex Lenore Amelia Lystrom Mrs. C Melanger Elizabeth Melanger Child Marshall Mrs. Kate Millette A Millette Mrs. and Child Mange Paula Mayor Mrs. Florence Miller WJ McDeermont Ms. Layla McGowan Anna Nye Elizabeth Nasser Mrs. Delilah Nusa Mrs. A Oxenham Percy J Phillips Alice Palace Emilio Padreau Jitlion Prinsky Rosa Portatelli Emilio Parish Mrs. L Plett B Quick Mrs. Jane Quick Mrs. Vera W Quick Ms. Billis Renardo Ms. E Ridgedale Lucy Rinoff Mrs. Lilly Rug Ms. Emily Richards M Rogers Ms. Selena Richards Mrs. Amelia Two boys and Mr. Richards Jr Simpson Miss Sencock Ms. Mald Senkonen Anna Smith Ms. Marion Sylvan Lyle Trant Mrs. J Toomey Ms. E Trout Ms. E Trout Ms. Cecilia Where Ms. H Water Ms. N Wilhelm C.B.A.S Watt Mrs. A and Two Children Williams Rekarbard M. Jr Wise Matilda Weber Ms. Sejeet Wright Ms. Marion Wright Ms. Marion Watt Ms. Bessie Watt Ms. Betka West Mrs. E.A West Ms. Constance West Ms. Barbara Wells Addy Wells Master A list of surviving third cabin passengers and crew is omitted owing to the impossibility of obtaining the correct names of many. Roll call of the dead First cabin Allison H.J. Allison Mrs. N. Maid Allison Miss Andrews Thomas Astor Colonel J.J. Enservant Anderson Walker B.T.T. Brandice E. Bucknavel Mrs. William Maid of Balmond J. Baxter Mr. and Mrs. Quig Bjornstrom H. Burnham Jacob Blackwell S.W. Boerbank J.J. Bowen Miss Brady John B. Brew Arl Butt Major A Clark Walter M. Clifford George Q. Coley E.P. Cardesa T.D.M. Servant of Cardesa Mrs. J.W. Maid of Carlson Frank Corrin F.M. Corrin J.P. Chaffee Mr. H.I. Chisholm Robert Compton A.T. Crafton John B. Crosby Edward G. Cummings John Bradley Dooley's William C. Douglas W.D. Douglas Master R. Nersov Evans Miss E. Fortune Mark Foreman B.L. Fortune Charles Franklin T.P. Futrell J. G. Arthur Goldenberg E.L. Goldschmidt G.B. Giglio Victor Guggenheim Benjamin Hayes Charles M. Hayes Mrs. Charles Maid of Head Christopher Hilliard H.H. Hipkins W.E. Hoganheim Mrs. A. Harris Henry B. Harp Mr. and Mrs. Charles M. Hart Ms. Margaret and Maid Holverson A.M. Islam Ms. A.E. Ismay J. Bruce servant of Julian H.F. Jones C.C. Kent Edward A. Kenyan Mr. and Mrs. F.R. Claibor Herman Lamberth William F.F. Lawrence Arthur Long Milton Leewee E.J. Loping J.H. Linguie Edward McGuire J.E. McCaffrey T. McCaffrey T. Jr. McCarthy T. Middleton J.C. Millett Frank D. Menehan Dr. Meyer Edgar J. Molson H.M. Moore C. Servant Newell Ms. T. Nicholson A.S. Parr M.H.W. Pears Mr. and Mrs. Thomas Panasco Mr. and Mrs. Victor Partner M.A. Payne Y. Puffer C.C. Robert Mrs. E. Maid of Robling Washington A. II Rood Hugh Rose J. Hugo Rhodes Countess Maid of Rothschild M. Ryerson A. Sylvie William B. Spencer W.A. Steed W.T. Stone Mrs. George Maid of Strauss Mr. and Mrs. Isidore Sutton Frederick Smart John Smith Clinch Smith L.P. Tossick Emile Thayer Mrs. Maid of Thayer John B. Thorn G. Vanderhoof Wigolf Walker W.A. Warren F.M. White Percival A. White Richard F. Widener G.D. Widener Harry Wood Mr. and Mrs. Frank P. Weir J. Williams Dwayne Wright George Second Cabin Abelson-Sampson Andrew Frank Ashby John Aldworth C. Andrew Edgar Bracken James Brown Mrs. Bright-Norrell Bailey Percy Bainbridge C.R. Biles the Reverend Thomas Bochamp H.G. Berg Ms. E. Bentham I. Bateman Robert J. Butler Reginald Botsford Hull Boeiner Solomon Clark Charles Clark Bansman Corey Mrs. C.P. Carter the Reverend Ernest Carter Mrs. Coleridge Reginald Chapman Charles Cunningham Alfred Campbell William Corbett Mrs. Irene Chapman John E. Chapman Mrs. E. Colander Eric Cotterill Harby Deacon Percy Davis Charles Dibbon William Debrito Jose Denbourney H. Drew James Drew Master M. David Master J.W. Downton W.J. Delvarlo S. Delvarlo Mrs. Frost A. Fennery Mr. Fonthorpe H. Philbrook C. Funk Annie Falstrom A. Fox Stanley W. Greenberg S. Giles Ralph Gaskell Alfred Gillespie William Gilbert William Gall S. Gall John Giles Edgar Giles Fred Gail Harry Garvey Lawrence Hickman Leonard Hickman Lindvist Hume Bansman Hickman Stanley Hood Ambrose Hodges Henry Hart Benjamin Harris Walter Harper John Harbeck W.H. Hoffman Mr. Herman Mrs. S. Howard B. Hale Reginald Hunt George Jacobson Mr. Jacobson Sidney Jeffrey Clifford Jeffrey Ernest Jenkins Steven Jarvis John D. Keen Daniel Kirkland Reverency Carnes Mrs. F.G. Krilner J.H. Krens Bansman Cantor Selena Knight R. Linguem John Levy R.J. Lodge Charles Lason W.R.N. Leroche Joseph Lam J.J. McCain Peter Milling Jacob Milachard Knoll Morwick Doctor McCray Arthur G McCry James M McCain Peter D Mudd Thomas Mack Mrs. Mary Marshall Henry Mayberg Frank H Meyer August Miles Thomas Mitchell Henry Matthew W.J. Nessan Israel Nicholas Joseph C. Norman Robert D. Otter Richard Phillips Robert Ponsell Martin Payne Alfred Parks Frank Pingelly F. Pernott Renee Parker Clifford Polebaum Frank Rinoff Peter H. Rogers Harry Reeves David Sobey Hayden Slatter Ms. H.M. Stanton Ward Sword Hans K Stokes Phillip J. Sharp Percival Sedwick Mr. F.W. Smith Augustus Sweet George Taylor Bansman Turpin William J Turpin Mrs. Dorothy Turner John H. Tirvin Mrs. A Veal James Watson E. Woodward Bansman Ware William J. Wise Leopold Whedon Edward Ware John J. West E. Arthur Wheeler Edwin Werman Samuel The total death list was 1635. Third cabin passengers and crew are not included in the list here given owing to the impossibility of obtaining the exact names of many. End of the roll call. Part 2 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 of The Sinking of the Titanic in 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 in Great Sea Disasters by edited by Logan Marshall Chapter 13 The Story of Charles F. Herd How the Titanic sank? Water strung with dead bodies. Victims met death with him on their lips. The story of how the Titanic sank is told by Charles F. Herd who was a passenger on the Carpathia. He praised highly the courage of the crew hundreds of whom gave their lives with a heroism which equaled but could not exceed that of John Jacob Astor, Henry B. Harris, Jacques Frutrell, and others in the long list of first cabin passengers. The account continues. The crash against the iceberg which had been cited at only a quarter mile distance came almost simultaneously with the click of the levers operated from the bridge which stopped the engines and closed the watertight doors. Captain Smith was on the bridge moment later summoning all aboard to put on life preservers and ordering the lifeboats lowered. The first boats had more male passengers as the men were the first to reach the deck. When the rush of frightened men and women and crying children to the decks began the women first rule was rigidly enforced. Officers drew revolvers but in most cases there was no use for them. Revolver shots heard shortly before the Titanic went down caused many rumors. One that Captain Smith had shot himself. Another that first officer Murdoch had ended his life. But members of the crew discredit these rumors. Captain Smith was last seen on the bridge just before the ship sank leaping only after the decks had been washed away. What became of the men with the life preservers was a question asked by many since the disaster. Many of these with life preservers were seen to go down despite the preservers and dead bodies floated on the surface as the boats moved away. Facts which I have established by inquiries on the Carpathia as positively as they could be established in view of the silence of the few surviving officers are that the Titanic's officers knew several hours before the crash of the possible nearness of the icebergs, that the Titanic's speed nearly 23 knots an hour was not slackened, that the number of lifeboats on the Titanic was insufficient to accommodate more than one-third of the passengers to say nothing of the crew. Most members of the crew say there were 16 lifeboats and two collapsibles. None say there were more than 20 boats in all. And the 700 escaped filled most of the 16 lifeboats and the one collapsible which got away to the limit of their capacity. Had the ship struck the iceberg head on at whatever speed and with whatever resulting shock the bulkhead system of watertight compartments would probably have saved the vessel. As one man expressed it, it was the impossible that happened when, with a shock unbelievably mild, the ship's side was torn for a length which made the bulkhead system ineffective. After telling of the shock and the lowering of the boats, the account continues. Some of the boats crowded too full to give rowers a chance, drifted for a time. Few had provisions or water, there was lack of covering from the icy air, and the only lights were the still undimmed arcs and incandescents of the said Link ship, save for one of the first boats. There a steward who explained to the passengers that he had been shipwrecks twice before, appeared carrying three oranges and a green light. That green light, many of the survivors say, was to the shipwrecked hundreds as the pillar of fire by night. Long after the ship had disappeared and while confusing false lights danced about the boats, the green lantern kept them together on the course which led them to the Carpathia. As the end of the Titanic became manifestly but a matter of moments, the oarsmen pulled their boats away and the chilling waters began to echo splash after splash as passengers and sailors and life preservers leaped over and started swimming away to escape the expected suction. Only the hardiest of constitutions could endure for more than a few moments such a numbing bath. The first vigorous strokes gave way to heartbreaking cries of help, help, and stiffened forms were seen floating on the water all around us. Led by the green light, under the light of the stars, the boats drew away and the bow, then the quarter, then the stacks, and at last the stern of the marvel ship of a few days before passed beneath the waters. The great force of the ship's sinking was unaided by any violence of the elements and the suction, not so great as had been feared, rocked but mildly the group of boats now a quarter mile distant from it. Early dawn brought no ship but not long after 5 a.m. the Carpathia, far out of her path and making 18 knots instead of her once at 15 showed her single red and black smokestack upon the horizon. In the joy of that moment the heaviest griefs were forgotten. Soon afterward Captain Rostrand and Chief Stuart Hughes were welcoming the chilled and bedraggled arrivals over the Carpathia's side. Terrible as were the San Francisco, Slocum, and Iroquois disasters, they shrink to local events in comparison with this world catastrophe. True, there were others of greater qualifications and longer experience than I nearer the tragedy, but they, by every token of likelihood, have become part of the tragedy. The honored, must I say, the lamented, steed, the adroit, jocks for trell. What might they not tell were their hands able to hold pencils? The silence of the Carpathia's engine, the piercing cold, the clamor of many voices in the companion ways, caused me to dress hurriedly and awaken my wife at 5 40 a.m. on Monday. Our stewardess, meeting me outside, pointed to a wailing host in the rear dining room and said, from the Titanic, she's at the bottom of the ocean. At the ship's side a moment later I saw the last of the line of boats discharge their loads and saw women, some with cheap shawls about their heads, some with the costliest of fur cloaks ascending the ship's side, and such joy as the first sight of our ship may have given them had disappeared from their faces, and there were tears and signs of faltering as the women who were helped up the ladders are hoisted aboard in swings. For lack of room to put them, several of the Titanic's boats, after unloading, were set adrift. At our north was a broad ice field, the length of hundreds of carpathias. Around us on other sides were sharp and glistening peaks. One black berg, seen about 10 a.m., was said to be that which sunk the Titanic. End of Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Thrilling Account by L. Beasley Collision only a slight jar. Passengers could not believe the vessel doomed. Nero escape of lifeboats. Picked up by the carpathia. Among the most connected and interesting stories related to the survivors was the one told by L. Beasley of Cambridge, England. He said, The voyage from Queenstown had been quite uneventful, very fine weather was experienced, and the sea was quite calm. The wind had been westerly to southwesterly the whole way, but very cold, particularly the last day. In fact, after dinner on Saturday evening, it was almost too cold to be out on deck at all. Only a slight jar. I had been in my berth for about 10 minutes when, at about 11.15 p.m., I felt a slight jar, and then soon after a second one, but not sufficiently violent to cause any anxiety to anyone, however nervous they may have been. However, the engine stopped immediately afterward, and my first thought was, she has lost a propeller. I went up on the top boat deck in a dressing gown, and found only a few persons there who could come up similarly to inquire while we had stopped, but there was no sort of anxiety in the minds of anyone. We saw through the smoking room window a game of cards going on, and went in to inquire if they knew anything. It seems they felt more of the jar, and, looking through the window, had seen a huge iceberg go by close to the side of the boat. They thought we had just grazed it with a glancing blow, and that the engines had been stopped to see if any damage had been done. No one, of course, had any conception that the vessel had been pierced below by part of the submerged iceberg. The game went on without any thought of disaster, and I retired to my cabin to read until we went on again. I never saw any of the players or the onlookers again. Some were awakened. A little later, hearing people going upstairs, I went out again, and found everyone wanting to know why the engines had stopped. No doubt, many were awakened from sleep by the sudden stopping of a vibration to which they had become accustomed during the four days we had been on board. Naturally, with such powerful engines as the Titanic carried, the vibration was very noticeable all the time, and the sudden stopping had something the same effect as the stopping of a loud ticking grandfather's clock in a room. On going on deck again, I saw that there was an undoubted list downward from stern to bowels, but knowing nothing of what had happened concluded some of the front compartments had filled and weighed her down. I went down again to put on warmer clothing, and as I dressed, heard an order shouted, Oh passengers on deck with life belts on. We all walked slowly up with the belts tied on over our clothing, but even then presumed this was only a wise precaution the captain was taking, in that we should return in a short time and retire to bed. There was a total absence of any panic or expressions of alarm, and I suppose this can be accounted for by the exceedingly calm night and the absence of any signs of the accident. The ship was absolutely steel and except for a gentle tilt downward, which I don't think one person in ten would have noticed at that time, no signs of the approaching disaster were visible. She lay just as if she were waiting the order to go on again when some trifling matter had been adjusted. But in a few moments, we saw the covers lifted from the boats and the crews allotted to them standing by and coiling up the ropes which were to lower them by the pulley blocks into the water. We then began to realize it was more serious than had been supposed, and my first thought was to go down and get some more clothing and some money, but seeing people pouring up the stairs decided it was better to cause no confusion to people coming up. Presently, we heard the order, all men stand back away from the boats and all ladies retired to the next deck below, the smoking room deck or bee deck. Men stood back. The men all stood away and remained in absolute silence leaning against the end railings of the deck or pacing slowly up and down. The boats were swung out and lowered from a deck. When they were to the level of bee deck where all the women were collected, they got in quietly with the exception of some who refused to leave their husbands. In some cases, they were torn from them and pushed into the boats, but in many instances, they were allowed to remain because there was no one to insist they should go. Looking over the side, one saw boats from aft already in the water, slipping quietly away into the darkness, and presently the boats near me were lowered, and with much creaking as the new ropes slipped through the pulley blocks down the 90 feet, which separated them from the water. An officer in uniform came up as one boat went down and shouted, when you are a float, row around to the companion ladder and stand by with the other boats for orders. Aye aye sir, came the reply, but I don't think any boat was able to obey the order. When they were afloat and had the oars at work, the condition of the rapidly settling boat was so much more a sight for alarm for those in the boat than those on board, that in common prudence the sailors saw they could do nothing but row from the sinking ship to save at any rate some lives. They no doubt anticipated that suction from such an enormous vessel would be more dangerous than usual to a crowded boat mostly filled with women. All this time, there was no trace of any disorder, no panic or rush to the boats, no scenes of women sobbing hysterically, such as one generally pictures happening at such times. Everyone seemed to realize so slowly that there was imminent danger. When it was realized that we might all be presently in the sea with nothing but our life belts to support us until we were picked up by passing steamers, it was extraordinary how calm everyone was and how completely self-controlled. One by one, the boats were filled with women and children lowered and rode away into the night. Presently, the word went round among the men. The men are to be putting boats on the starboard side. I was on the port side and most of the men walked across the deck to see if this was so. I remained where I was and soon heard the call. Any more ladies? Looking over the side of the ship, I saw the boat number 13 swinging level with B deck, half full of ladies. Again, the call was repeated. Any more ladies? I saw none come on and then one of the crew looking up said, Any more ladies on your deck, sir? No, I replied. Then you had better jump. I dropped in and fell in the bottom as they cried lower way. As the boat began to descend, two ladies were pushed hurriedly through the crowd on B deck and heaved over into the boat and a baby of 10 months passed down after them. Down we went, the crew calling to those lowering each end to keep her level until we were some 10 feet from the water. And here occurred the only anxious moment we had during our whole experience from leaving the deck to reaching the Carpathia. Immediately below our boat was the exhaust of the condensers, a huge stream of water pouring all the time from the ship side just above the water line. It was plain we ought to be quickly away from this, not to be swamped by it when we touched water. No officer aboard. We had no officer aboard nor petty officer or member of the crew to take charge. So one of the stokers shouted, someone find the pen which releases the boat from the ropes and pull it up. No one knew where it was. We felt on the floor and sides, but we found nothing and it was hard to move among so many people. We had 60 or 70 on board. Down we went and presently floated with our ropes still holding us, the exhaust washing us away from the side of the vessel and the swell of the sea urging us back against the side again. The result of all these forces was an impetus which carried us parallel to the ship side and directly under boat 14 which had filled rapidly with men and was coming down on us in a way that threatened to submerge our boat. Stop lowering 14 our crew shouted and the crew of number 14 now only 20 feet above shouted the same but the distance to the top was some 70 feet and the creaking pulleys must have dead in all sound to those above for down she came 15 feet 10 feet 5 feet and a stoker and I reached up and touched her swinging above our heads. The next drop would have brought her on our heads but just before she dropped another stoker sprang to the ropes with his knife. Just escaped another boat one I heard him say two as his knife cut through the pulley ropes and the next moment the exhaust stream had carried us clear while boat 14 dropped into the water into the space we had the moment before occupied our gun wells almost touching. We drifted away easily as the oars were got out and headed directly away from the ship. The crew seemed to me to be mostly stewards or cooks in white jackets, two to an oar with a stoker at the teller. There was a certain amount of shouting from one end of the boat to the other and discussion as to which way we should go but finally it was decided to elect the stoker who was steering as captain and for all to obey his orders. He set to work at once to get into touch with the other boats calling to them and getting as close as seemed wise so that when the search boats came in the morning to look for us there would be more chance for all to be rescued by keeping together. It was now about 1 a.m. a beautiful starlight night with no moon and so not very light. The sea was calm as a pond just a gentle heave as the boat dipped up and down in the swell an ideal night except for the bitter cold for anyone who had to be out in the middle of the Atlantic ocean in an open boat and if ever there was a time when such a night was needed surely it was now with hundreds of people mostly women and children afloat hundreds of miles from land watched the Titanic. The captain stoker told us that he had been at sea 26 years and had never seen such a calm night on the Atlantic. As we rode away from the Titanic we looked back from time to time to watch her and a more striking spectacle it was not possible for anyone to see. In the distance it looked like an enormous leap its great bulk outlined in black against the starry sky every porthole and saloon blazing with light. It was impossible to think that anything could be wrong with such a leviathan were it not for that ominous tilt downward in the bowels where the water was now up to the lowest row of portholes. Presently about 2 a.m. as near as I can remember we observed it settling very rapidly with the bowels and the bridge completely underwater and concluded it was now only a question of minutes before it went and so it proved. Mr. Beasley went on to tell of the spectacle of the sinking of the Titanic the terrible experiences of the survivors and the lifeboats and their final rescue by the Carpathia as already related. End of chapters 13 and 14. Chapter 15 16 and 17 of the sinking of the Titanic in 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 Alison Hester of Athens, Georgia. The sinking of the Titanic in Great Sea Disasters edited by Logan Marshall. Chapter 15 Jack Thayer's own story of the wreck. 17 year old son of Pennsylvania railroad official tells moving story of his rescue. Told mother to be brave, separated from parents, jumped when vessel sank, drifted on overturned boat picked up by Carpathia. One of the calmest of the passengers was young Jack Thayer the 17 year old son of Mr. and Mrs. John B Thayer. When his mother was put into the lifeboat he kissed her and told her to be brave saying that he and his father would be all right. He and Mr. Thayer stood on the deck as the small boat in which Mrs. Thayer was a passenger made off from the side of the Titanic over the smooth sea. The boy's own account of his experience as told to one of the rescuers is one of the most remarkable of all the ones that have come from the tremendous catastrophe. Father was in bed and mother and myself were about to get into bed. There was no great shock. I was on my feet at the time and I do not think it was enough to throw anyone down. I put on an overcoat and rushed up on a deck to the port side. I saw nothing there. I then went forward to the bow to see if I could see any signs of ice. The only ice I saw was on the well deck. I could not see very far ahead having just come out of a brightly lighted room. I then went down to our room and my father and mother came on deck with me to the starboard side of a deck. We could not see anything there. Father thought he saw small pieces of ice floating around but I could not see any myself. There was no big bird. We walked around to the port side and the ship then had a fair list to port. We stayed there looking over the side for about five minutes. The list seemed very slowly to be increasing. We then went down to our rooms on sea deck all of us dressing quickly putting on all our clothes. We all put on life preservers and over these we put on our overcoats. Then we hurried up on deck and walked around looking out at different places until the women were all ordered to collect on the port side separated from parents. Father and I said goodbye to mother at the top of the stairs on a deck. She and the maid went right out on a deck on the port side and we went to the starboard side. As at this time we had no idea the boat would sink we walked around a deck and then went to be deck. Then we thought we would go back to see if mother had gotten off safely and went to the port side of a deck. We met the chief steward of the main dining saloon and he told us that mother had not yet taken a boat and he took us to her. Father and mother went ahead and I followed. They went down to be deck and a crowd got in front of me and I was not able to catch them and lost sight of them. As soon as I could get through the crowd I tried to find them on be deck but without success. That is the last time I saw my father. This was about one half an hour before she sank. I then went to the starboard side thinking that father and mother must have gotten off in a boat. All of this time I was with a fellow named Milton C. Long of New York who I had just met that evening. On the starboard side the boats were getting away quickly. Some boats were already off in a distance. We thought of getting into one of the boats. The last boat to go on the forward part of the starboard side but there seemed to be such a crowd around that I thought it was unwise to make any attempt to get into it. He and I stood by the davits of one of the boats that had left. I did not notice anybody that I knew except Mr. Lindley whom I had also just met that evening. I lost sight of him in a few minutes. Long and I then stood by the rail just a little aft of the captain's bridge. Thought ship would float. The list to port had been growing greater all the time. About this time the people began jumping from the stern. I thought of jumping myself but was afraid of being stunned on hitting the water. Three times I made up my mind to jump out and slide down the davit ropes and try to make the boats that were lying off from the ship but each time Long got hold of me and told me to wait a while. He then sat down and I stood up waiting to see what would happen. Even then we thought she might possibly stay afloat. I got a sight on a rope between the davits and a star and noticed that she was gradually sinking. About this time she straightened up on an even keel and started to go down fairly fast at an angle of about 30 degrees. As she started to sink we left the davits and went back and stood by the rail about even with the second funnel. Long and myself said goodbye to each other and jumped up on the rail. He put his legs over and held on a minute and asked me if I was coming. I told him I would be with him in a minute. He did not jump clear but slid down the side of the ship. I never saw him again. About five seconds after he jumped I jumped out feet first. I was clear of the ship, went down and as I came up I was pushed away from the ship by some force. I came up facing the ship and one of the funnels seemed to be lifted off and fell towards me about 15 yards away with a mass of sparks and steam coming out of it. I saw the ship in a sort of red glare and it seemed to me that she just broke into just in front of the third funnel. This time I was sucked down and as I came up I was pushed out again and twisted around by a large wave coming up in the midst of a great deal of small wreckage. As I pushed my hand from my head it touched the cork fender of an overturned lifeboat. I looked up and saw some men on the top and asked them to give me a hand. One of them who was a stoker helped me up. In a short time the bottom was covered with about 25 or 30 men. When I got on this I was facing the ship. The stern then seemed to rise in the air and stopped at about an angle of 60 degrees. It seemed to hold there for a time and then with a hissing sound it shot right down out of sight with people jumping from the stern. The stern either pivoted around towards our boat or we were sucked towards it and as we had only one ore we could not keep away. There did not seem to be much suction and most of us managed to stay on the bottom of our boat. We were then right in the midst of the fairly large wreckage with people swimming all around us. The sea was very calm and we kept the boat pretty steady but every now and then a wave would wash over it. Said the Lord's Prayer. The assistant wireless operator was right next to me holding on to me and kneeling in the water. We all sang a hymn and said the Lord's Prayer and then waited for dawn to come. As often as we saw the other boats at a distance we would yell ship ahoy but they could not distinguish our cries from any of the others so we all gave it up thinking it was useless. It was very cold and none of us were able to move around to keep warm the water washing over her almost all the time. Toward dawn the wind sprang up roughening up the water and making it difficult to keep the boat balanced. The wireless man raised our hopes a great deal by telling us that the Carpathia would be up in about three hours. About three thirty or four o'clock some men on our boat on the bow sited her mask lights. I could not see them as I was sitting down with a man kneeling on my leg. He finally got up and I stood up. We had the second officer Mr. Lightoller on board. We had an officer's whistle and whistled for the boats in the distance to come up and take us off. It took about an hour and a half for the boats to draw near. Two boats came up. The first took half and the other took the balance including myself. We had great difficulty about this time in balancing the boat as the men would lean too far but we were all taken aboard the already crowded boat and in about half or three quarters of an hour later we were picked up by the Carpathia. I have noticed second officer Lightoller's statement that J.B. Thayer was on our overturned boat which would give the impression that it was father. When he really meant it was I as he only learned my name in a subsequent conversation on the Carpathia and did not know I was a junior. End of chapter 15. Chapter 16 Incidents related by James McGulf. Women forced into the lifeboats. Why some men were saved before women? Asked to man lifeboats. Surrounded by his wife and members of his family James McGulf of Philadelphia a buyer for the Gimble Brothers whose fate had been in doubt recited a most thrilling and graphic picture of the disaster. As the Carpathia docked Mrs. McGulf a brother and several friends of the buyer met him and after the touching reunion had taken place the party proceeded to Philadelphia. Vivid in detail Mr. McGulf's story differs essentially from one the imagination would paint. He declared that the boat was driving at a high rate of speed at the time of the accident and seemed impressed by the calmness and apathy displayed by the survivors as they tossed on the frozen seas in the little lifeboats until the Carpathia picked them up. The Titanic did not plunge into the water suddenly he declared but settled slowly into the deep with its hundreds of passengers. The collision occurred at 20 minutes of 12 said Mr. McGulf. I was sleeping in my cabin when I felt a wrench not severe or terrifying. It seemed to me to be nothing more serious than the racing of the screw which often occurs when a ship plunges her bow deep into a heavy swell raising the stern out of the water. We dressed hurriedly and ran to the upper deck. There was little noise or tumult at the time. The promenade decks being higher from the base of the ship and thus more insecure strained and creaked so we went to the lower decks. By this time the engines had been reversed and I could feel the ship backing off. Officers and stewards ran through the corridors shouting for all to be calm that there was no danger. We were warned however to dress and put life preservers on us. I had on what clothing I could find and had stuffed some money in my pocket. Parting of Aster and Bride As I passed the gymnasium I saw Colonel Aster and his young wife together. She was clinging to him piteously pleading that he get into the lifeboat with her. He refused almost gruffly and was attempting to calm her by saying that all her fears were groundless that the accident she feared would prove a farce. It proved different however. None I believe knew that the ship was about to sink. I did not realize it just then. When I reached the upper deck and saw tons of ice piled upon our crushed bow, the full realization came to me. Officers stood with guns drawn ordering the women into the boats. All feared to leave the comparative safety of a broad and firm deck for the precarious smaller boats. Women clung to their husbands crying that they would never leave without them and had to be torn away. On one point all the women were firm. They would not enter a lifeboat until men were in it first. They feared to trust themselves to the seas in them. It required courage to step into the frail crafts as they swung from the creaking gavets. Few men were willing to take the chance. An officer rushed behind me and shouted, you are big enough to pull an oar. Jump into this boat or we'll never be able to get the women off. I was forced to do so though I admit that the ship looked a great deal safer to me than any small boat. Our boat was the second off. 40 or more persons were crowded into it and with myself and members of the crew at the oars we were pulled slowly away. Huge icebergs larger than the Pennsylvania depot at New York surrounded us. As we pulled away we could see boat after boat filled and lowered to the waves. Despite the fact that they were new and supposedly in excellent working order the blocks jammed in many instances tilting the boats loaded with people at varying angles before they reached the water. Band continued playing. As the lifeboats pulled away the officers ordered the bands to play and their music did much to quell panic. It was a heartbreaking sight to us tossing in an eggshell three fourths of a mile away to see the great ship go down. First she listed to the starboard on which side the collision had occurred. Then she settled slowly but steadily without hope of remaining afloat. The Titanic was all aglow with lights as if for a function. First we saw the lights of the lower deck snuffed out. A while later and the second deck illumination was extinguished in a similar manner. Then the third and upper decks were darkened and without plunging or rocking the great ship disappeared slowly from the surface of the sea. People were crowded on each deck as it lowered into the water hoping in vain that aid would come in time. Some of the lifeboats caught in the merciless suction were swallowed with her. The sea was calm calm as the water in a tumbler but it was freezing cold. None had dressed heavily and all therefore suffered intensely. The women did not shriek or grow hysterical while we waited through the awful night for help. We men stood at the oars stood because there was no room for us to sit and kept the boat headed into the swell to prevent her capsizing. Another boat was at our side but all the others were scattered around the water. Finally shortly before six o'clock we saw the lights of the Carpathia approaching. Gradually she picked up the survivors in the other boats and then approached us. When we were lifted to the deck the women fell helpless. They were carried to whatever quarters offered themselves while the men were assigned to the smoking room. Of the misery and suffering which was witnessed on the rescue ship I know nothing. With the other men survivors I was glad to remain in the smoking room until New York was reached trying to forget the awful experienced. To us aboard the Carpathia came rumors of misstatements which were being made to the public. The details of the wreck were woefully misunderstood. Let me emphasize that the night was not foggy or cloudy. There was just the beginning of the new moon but every star in the sky was shining brightly unmarred by clouds. The boats were lowered from both sides of the Titanic in time to escape but there was not enough for all. End of Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Wireless Operator praises heroic work. Story of Harold Bride the surviving wireless operator of the Titanic who was washed overboard and rescued by lifeboat. Band played ragtime and autumn. One of the most connected and detailed accounts of the horrible disaster was that told by Harold Bride the wireless operator. Mr. Bride said, I was standing by Phillips the chief operator telling him to go to bed when the captain put his head in the cabin. We've struck an iceberg the captain said and I'm having an inspection made to tell what it has done for us. You better get ready to send out a call for assistance but don't send it until I tell you. The captain went away and in 10 minutes I should estimate the time he came back. We could hear a terrific confusion outside but there was not the least thing to indicate that there was any trouble. The wireless was working perfectly. Send the call for assistance. Ordered the captain barely putting his head in the door. What call shall I send? Phillips asked. The regulation international call for help. Just that. Then the captain was gone. Phillips began to send CQD. He flashed away at it and we joked while he did so. All of us made light of the disaster. The Carpathia answered our signal. We told her our position and said we were sinking by the head. The operator went to tell the captain and in five minutes returned and told us that the captain of the Carpathia was putting about and heading for us. Great scramble on deck. Our captain had left us at this time and Phillips told me to run and tell him what the Carpathia had answered. I did so and I went through an awful mass of people to his cabin. The decks were full of scrambling men and women. I saw no fighting but I heard tell of it. I came back and heard Phillips giving the Carpathia fuller directions. Phillips told me to put on my clothes. Until that moment I forgot that I was not dressed. I went to my cabin and dressed. I brought an overcoat to Phillips. It was very cold. I slipped the overcoat upon him while he worked. Every few minutes Phillips would send me to the captain with little messages. They were merely telling how the Carpathia was coming our way and gave her speed. I noticed as I came back from one trip that they were putting off women and children in lifeboats. I noticed that the list forward was increasing. Phillips told me the wireless was growing weaker. The captain came and told us our engine rooms were taking water and that the Danimos might not last much longer. We sent that word to the Carpathia. I went out on deck and looked around. The water was pretty close up to the boat deck. There was a great scramble aft and how poor Phillips worked through it right to the end. I don't know. He was a brave man. I learned to love him that night and I suddenly felt for him a great reverence to see him standing there sticking to his work while everybody else was raging about. I will never live to forget the work of Phillips for that last awful 15 minutes. I thought it was about time to look about and see if there was anything detached that would float. I remembered that every member of the crew had a special life belt and ought to know where it was. I remembered mine was under my bunk. I went and got it. Then I thought how cold the water was. I remembered I had an extra jacket and a pair of boots and I put them on. I saw Phillips standing out there still sending away giving the Carpathia details of just how we were doing. We picked up the Olympic and told her we were sinking by the head and were about all down. As Phillips was sending the message I strapped his life belt on his back. I had already put on his overcoat. Every minute was precious so I helped him out all I could. Band Plays in Ragtime From aft came the tunes of the band. It was a ragtime tune. I don't know what. Then there was Autumn. Phillips ran aft and that was the last I ever saw of him. I went to the place where I had seen a collapsible boat on the boat deck and to my surprise I saw the boat and the men still trying to push it off. I guess there wasn't a sailor in the crowd. They couldn't do it. I went up to them and was just lending a hand when a large wave came awash of the deck. The big wave carried the boat off. I had hold of a rollock and I went off with it. The next thing I knew I was in the boat. But that was not all. I was in the boat and the boat was upside down and I was under it. And I remember realizing I was wet through and that whatever happened I must not breathe. For I was under water. I knew I had to fight for it and I did. How I got out from under that boat I do not know. But I felt a breath of air at last. There were men all around me. Hundreds of them. The sea was dotted with them all depending on their life belts. I felt I simply had to get away from the ship. She was a beautiful sight then. Smoke and sparks were rushing out of her funnel. And there must have been an explosion. But we had heard none. We only saw the big stream of sparks. The ship was gradually turning on her nose just like a duck does that goes down for a dive. I had one thing on my mind to get away from the suction. The band was still playing and I guess they all went down. They were playing autumn then. I swam with all my might. I suppose I was 150 feet away when the Titanic on her nose with her after-quarter sticking straight up in the air began to settle slowly. When at last the waves washed over her rudder there wasn't the least bit of suction I could feel. She must have kept going just as slowly as she had been. I forgot to mention that besides the Olympic and the Carpathia we spoke to some German boat. I don't know which and told them how we were. We also spoke to the Baltic. I remembered those things as I began to figure what ships would be coming toward us. I felt after a little while like sinking. I was very cold. I saw a boat of some kind near me and put all my strength into an effort to swim to it. It was hard work. I was all done when a hand reached out from the boat and pulled me aboard. It was our same collapsible. There was just room for me to roll on the edge. I lay there not caring what happened. Somebody sat on my legs. They were wedged in between slats and were being wrenched. I had not the heart left to ask the man to move. It was a terrible sight all around. Men swimming and sinking. I lay where I was letting the man wrench my feet out of shape. Others came near. Nobody gave them a hand. The bottom up boat already had more men than it would hold and it was sinking. At first the larger waves splashed over my head and I had to breathe when I could. Some splendid people saved us. They had a right side up boat and it was full to its capacity. Yet they came to us and loaded us all into it. I saw some lights off in the distance and knew a steamship was coming to our aid. I didn't care what happened. I just lay and gasped when I could and felt the pain in my feet. At last the carpathia was alongside and the people were being taken up by a rope ladder. Our boat drew near and one by one the men were taken off of it. The way the band kept playing was a noble thing. I heard it first while we were working wireless when there was a ragtime tune for us and the last I saw of the band when I was floating out in the sea with my life belt on it was still on deck playing autumn. How they ever did it I cannot imagine. That and the way Phillips kept sending after the captain told him his life was his own and to look out for for himself are two things that stand out in my mind over all the rest. End of chapter 17