Voices from the Titanic (26 page)

I got into the boat and sat under the seats on the bottom, just under the tiller. Mr Boxhall had difficulty getting the boat loose and called for a knife.

The rowing was very difficult, for no one knew how. I tried to steer, under Mr Boxhall's orders, and he put the lantern – an old one, with very little light on it – on a pole which I held up for
some time. Mr Boxhall got away from the ship and we stopped for a time. Several times we stopped rowing to listen for the lapping of the water against the icebergs.

In an incredibly short space of time, it seemed to me, the boat sank. I heard no explosion. I watched the boat go down, and the last picture in my mind is the immense mass of black against the starlit sky, and then … nothingness.

Mrs Appleton and some of the other women had been rowing, and did row all the time. Mr Boxhall had charge of the signal lights on the
Titanic
, and he put in the emergency boat a tin box of green lights, like rockets. These he commenced to send off at intervals, and very quickly we saw the lights of the
Carpathia
, the captain of which stated he saw our green lights ten miles away, and, of course, steered directly to us, so we were the first boat to arrive at the
Carpathia
.

When we pulled alongside, Mr Boxhall called out: ‘Shut down your engines and take us aboard. I have only one sailor.' At this point I called out, ‘The
Titanic
has gone down with everyone on board,' and Mr Boxhall told me to ‘shut up'. This is not told in criticism; I think he was perfectly right. We climbed a rope ladder to the upper deck of the
Carpathia
. I at once asked the chief steward, who met us, to take the news to the captain. He said the officer was already with him.

In the afternoon I sent a brief Marconigram with the news that Mr Douglas was among the missing. I went myself to the purser several times every day, and others also made inquiries for me in regard to it, but it was not sent.

(US Inquiry, 9 May 1912)

All of us went up and cleared away the boats. After that we loaded all the boats there were. I went away in No. 2, the fourth from the last to leave the ship. Mr Boxhall was
in command; Mr Murdoch directed the loading. All passengers were women and children except one man, a third-class passenger.

After I got in the boat the officer found a bunch of rockets which was put in the boat by mistake for a box of biscuits. The officer fired some off, and the
Carpathia
came to us first and picked us up half an hour before anybody else. Not until morning did we see an iceberg about 100 feet out of the water with one big point sticking on one side of it, apparently dark, like dirty ice, 100 yards away. I knew that was the one we struck because we could see it was the biggest berg there, and the other ones would not have done so much damage, I think. It looked as if there was a piece broken off after she struck.

When we were in the boat we shoved off from the ship, and I said to the officer, ‘See if you can get alongside to see if you can get any more hands – squeeze some more hands in.' So the women then started to get nervous after I said that, and the officer said: ‘All right.' The women disagreed to that. We pulled around to the starboard side of the ship and found we could not get to the starboard side because it was listing too far. We pulled astern that way again, and after we got astern we lay on our oars and saw the ship go down. After she got to a certain angle she exploded, broke in halves, and it seemed to me as if all the engines and everything that was in the after part slid out into the forward part, and the after part came up right again.

We did not go back to the place where the ship had sunk because the women were all nervous. We pulled around as far as we could get to her, so that the women would not see, and it would not cause a panic. We got as close as we would dare to. We could not have taken any more hands into the boat – it was impossible. We might have got one in, that is about all.

(US Inquiry, 25 April 1912)

I was lying in my cabin awake when the crash came. I arose and called to my daughter and niece to dress, and we all went up on deck, but even then they were beginning to load the lifeboats. We got seats in one, thanks to the men who stood back to make room for us.

We soon cleared the
Titanic
and were rowing aimlessly about when I heard a fearful shrieking. I sounded as if hundreds of throats were calling for help. Then, quite clearly, I saw Colonel Astor and Captain Smith standing side by side. The explosion threw them into the water. Colonel Astor I did not see reappear, but Captain Smith was blown into the water with a couple of officers and swam quite near our boat.

The officers we dragged aboard, but when we offered to help Captain Smith he shook his head and swam back towards where the
Titanic
had sunk.

(
New York World
, 20 April 1912)

We had previously lowered a boat from A deck, one deck down below. That was through my fault. It was the first boat I had lowered. I was intending to put the passengers in from A deck. On lowering the boat I found that the windows were closed. So I sent someone down to open the windows and carried on with the other boats, but decided it was not worth while lowering them down, that I could manage just as well from the boat deck.

When I came forward from the other boats, I loaded that boat from A deck by getting the women out through the windows. My idea in filling the boats there was because there was a wire hawser running along the side of the ship for coaling purposes and it was handy to tie the boat in to hold it so that nobody could drop between the side of the boat and the ship.

(US Inquiry, 19 April 1912)

I lowered No. 4 into the water, and left that boat, and walked aft. I came back and one of the seamen that was in the boat at the time sung out to me: ‘We need another hand down here.' So I slid down the life line there from the davit into the boat. It was a drop of 70-odd feet.

I took charge of the boat after I got in. We left the ship with three sailormen and about forty-two passengers. We were the last big boat on the port side to leave the ship. Later we picked up eight men that were swimming with life preservers. Two died afterwards in the boat. One was a fireman and one was a steward. After we had picked up the men, I could not hear any more cries
anywhere. Everything was over. We stopped picking up. The last man we picked up, we heard a cry, and we did not hear any more cries after that. I waited then until daylight, or just before daylight, when we saw the lights of the
Carpathia
.

(US Inquiry, 25 April 1912)

At the time of collision I was awake and heard the engines stop, but felt no jar. My husband was asleep, so I rang and asked the steward, Bishop, what was the matter. He said: ‘There is talk of an iceberg, ma'am, and they have stopped not to run into it.' I told him to keep me informed if there were any orders.

After about ten minutes I went out in the corridor and saw far-off people hurrying on deck. A passenger ran by and called out: ‘Put on your lifebelts and come up on the boat deck.' I said: ‘Where did you get those orders?' He said: ‘From the captain.'

I went back then and told Miss Bowen and my daughter, who were in the next room, to dress immediately, roused my husband and the two younger children, who were in a room on the other side, and then remembered my maid who had a room near us. Her door was locked and I had some difficulty in waking her.

By this time my husband was fully dressed and we could hear the noise of feet tramping on the deck overhead. He was quite calm and cheerful and helped me put the lifebelts on the children and on my maid. I was paralyzed with fear of not all getting on deck together in time as there were seven of us. I would not let my younger daughter dress, but she put on a fur coat over her nightgown. My husband cautioned us all to keep together, and we went up to A deck where we found quite a group of people
we knew. Everyone had on a lifebelt, and they all were very quiet and self-possessed.

We stood about there for quite a long time – fully half an hour, I should say. I know my maid ran down to the cabin and got some of my clothes. Then we were ordered to the boat deck. I only remember the second steward at the head of the stairs who told us where to go. My chief thought and that of everyone else was not to make a fuss and to do as we were told. My husband joked with some of the women he knew and I heard him say: ‘Don't you hear the band playing?' I begged him to let me stay with him but he said: ‘You must obey orders. When they say, “Women and children to the boats”, you must go when your turn comes. I'll stay with John Thayer. We will be all right. You take a boat going to New York.' This referred to the belief that there was a circle of ships around waiting – the
Olympic
, the
Baltic
were some of the names I heard.

All this time we could hear the rockets going up – signals of distress. Again we were ordered down to A deck, which was partly enclosed. We saw people getting into boats, but waited our turn. There was a rough sort of steps constructed to get up to the window. My boy, Jack, was with me. An officer at the window said: ‘That boy can't go.' My husband stepped forward and said: ‘Of course that boy goes with his mother. He is only thirteen.' So they let him pass. They also said: ‘No more boys.'

I turned and kissed my husband, and as we left he and the other men I knew – Mr Thayer, Mr Widener and others – were all standing there together very quietly. The decks were lighted, and as you went through the window, it was as if you stepped out into the dark. We were flung into the boats. There were two men – an officer inside and a sailor outside – to help us. I fell on top of the women who were already in the boat, and scrambled to the bow with my eldest daughter. Miss Bowen and my boy were in the stern and my second daughter was in the middle of the boat with my maid. Mrs Thayer, Mrs Widener, Mrs Astor and Miss Eustis were the only others I knew in our boat. Presently
an officer called out from the upper deck: ‘How many women are there in that boat?' Someone answered: ‘Twenty-four.' ‘That's enough,' said the officer. ‘Lower away.'

The ropes seemed to stick at one end and the boat tipped. Someone called for a knife but it was not needed until we got into the water, as it was but a short distance, and I then realized for the first time how far the ship had sunk. The deck we left was only about 20ft from the sea. I could see all the portholes open and water washing in.

Then they called out: ‘How many seamen have you?' We answered, ‘One.' ‘That is not enough,' said the officer. ‘I will send you another.' And he sent a sailor down the rope. In a few minutes several other men – not sailors – came down the ropes and dropped into our boat.

The order was given to pull away, but we made little progress. There was a confusion of orders. We rowed towards the stern, someone shouted something about a gangway, but no one seemed to know what to do. Barrels and chairs were being thrown overboard. Then suddenly, when we still seemed very near, we saw the ship was sinking rapidly. I turned to see the great ship take a plunge towards the bow, the two forward funnels seemed to lean and then she seemed to break in half as if cut with a knife. As the bow went under, the lights went out. The stern stood up for several minutes, black against the stars, and then that too plunged down. There was no sound for what seemed like hours, and then began the cries for help of people drowning all around us.

Someone called out, ‘Pull for your lives or you'll be sucked under,' and everyone that could rowed like mad. I could see my younger daughter and Mrs Thayer and Mrs Astor rowing, but there seemed to be no suction. Then we turned to pick up some of those in the water. Some of the women protested, but others persisted and we dragged in six or seven men. They were so chilled and frozen already they could hardly move. Two of them died in the stern later, and many were raving and moaning and delirious most of the time.

We had no lights or compass. There were several babies in the boat, but there was no milk or water. I believe these were all stowed away somewhere but no one knew where, and as the bottom of the boat was full of water and the boat full of people, it was very difficult to find anything.

After the
Titanic
sank we saw no lights, and no one seemed to know what direction to take. Lowe, the officer in charge of the boat, had called out earlier for all to tie together, so we now heard his whistle. As soon as we could make out the other boats in the dark, five of us were tied together, and we drifted about without rowing, as the sea was calm, waiting for the dawn. It was very cold and soon a breeze sprang up, and it was hard to keep our heavy boat bow on, but as the cries died down we could see dimly what seemed to be a raft with about twenty men standing on it back to back. It was the overturned boat. As the sailors on our boat said we could still carry eight or ten more people, we called for another boat to volunteer and go to rescue them. So we two cut loose our painters and between us got all the men off. They were nearly gone and could not have held out much longer.

Then when the sun rose, we saw the
Carpathia
standing up about five miles away, and for the first time we saw the icebergs all around us.

(US Inquiry, 10 May 1912)