Voices from the Titanic (51 page)
Read Voices from the Titanic Online
Authors: Geoff Tibballs
An intensely thrilling story was told to our representative last evening by Cecil William Fitzpatrick, engineer's room steward, and the sole survivor of the engineering staff.
On the fateful Sunday evening he was aroused from sleep by a sudden lurch of the vessel and the stopping of the engines. One of his mates inquired the cause, but was told it was nothing serious. A little later Fitzpatrick was again awakened by a fireman, who was in the act of taking a lifebelt belonging to the engineers' stewards. They refused to let him have it, and he then told them the Chief Engineer wanted them to muster.
When I was on deck, proceeded Fitzpatrick, the ship was listing to port, and I went to help lower away one of the lifeboats. Women and children were put in, and as she was being lowered a Dago (Italian) tried to jump from the taffrail to the edge of the boat. The officer in charge pointed a revolver at him, and told him to get back on deck. The Dago refused, the officer fired, and I saw the man fall back dead on the deck. There were crews of foreigners hanging around the lifeboat ready to leap, but they cowered when they saw one of their number shot dead.
As the lifeboat was lowered away the officer kept continually firing his revolver, from deck to deck until he got below deck level.
Similar instances of firing occurred on the port side. A man whom I took to be a saloon passenger tried to claim a seat in one of the boats. The officer told him to leave, and as the man hesitated, the revolver rang out and his body fell into the sea.
I then went for's'd on the port side, and I was passing through the bridge when I saw Capt. Smith speaking to Mr Andrews, the designer of the
Titanic
. I stopped to listen. I was still confident that the ship was unsinkable, but when I heard Capt. Smith say: âWe cannot stay any longer; she is going!' I fainted against the starboard side of the bridge entrance.
After some minutes I recovered sufficiently to realize that unless I got into a boat or swam for it, there would be no chance of being saved.
I then went to launch one of the collapsible boats which had been eased down off the top decks on the starboard side. We found, when we tried to swing her in the davits, that she was wedged between the winch of the davits and the spar â which helped to ease her down from the lower deck, which is the deck below the boat deck.
The next thing I remember was the ship suddenly dipping, and the waves rushing up and engulfing me. After ten seconds the
Titanic
again righted herself, but then I saw that everyone who a minute before had been attempting to lower away, except myself, had been swept into the fo'castle head. I saved myself by clinging on to the davit winch.
I looked down the fo'castle, and saw the most horrible, heartrending scenes I have ever witnessed. There were women and children and firemen and stewards all fighting, shrieking for help in their death struggles. I got on the other side of the winch which was towards the after-part of the vessel, and levered myself up on to the deck.
Then I went to the edge of the ship and jumped into the icy water. In order to escape the suction which I surmised would be caused by the sinking of the gigantic liner, I struck out for very life. I swam from the ship as the for's'd was sinking. I did not feel any suction.
I am a strong swimmer, and I had managed to keep afloat quite twenty minutes, when I got on to an overturned lifeboat, on which was Officer Lightoller and a number of other people. We drifted about until daybreak, when we were sighted by No. 12 lifeboat of the
Titanic
. Then we rowed towards the
Carpathia
, which loomed into sight, and were taken on board at 7.30 a.m.
Questioned as to other details of the disaster, Fitzpatrick said he heard the band playing a hymn at the last moment, but as he was a Catholic he failed to recognize the tune.
âI was the next to the last man to leave the doomed ship,' he remarked. The last man climbed up the poop.
When Fitzpatrick was in the water he saw the
Titanic
stick her screws and propellers high into the air, and he heard her go down with a swish â âas clean a dive as ever was made by a fish.'
As to the engineers, he said: âEvery man Jack stuck to his post to the end. I am the only one of that section of the ship's crew saved out of forty-one.'
(
Western Daily Mercury
, 29 April 1912)
There were many incidents of note during the day, and one very exciting escape from drowning in the Sound. While the mails were being transferred to the
Sir Francis Drake
in Cawsand Bay, one of the bags fell overboard. A seaman from the
Lapland
was slung over the side by a rope in an attempt to recover it, but the rope was short, and the man, who could not swim, fell into the sea. Instantly a lifeline was thrown him from the
Drake
, and he clambered inboard, none the worse for his ducking.
The Chief Constable of Plymouth (Mr J. D. Sowerby) and Detective Inspector Hitchcock visited the docks for the purpose of performing an unpleasant task. They had a warrant for the arrest of one of the crew, issued by his wife, for failing to keep up payments in respect of a maintenance order. Mr Sowerby and Mr Hitchcock interviewed a man of the same name, but the description did not correspond with the man who is wanted, and there is little doubt that the unfortunate fellow is among those who were drowned.
Each of the crew received 7s 6d or 6s 6d yesterday from the Board of Trade, according to their rating. A sum of £300 sent from America by a lady will be divided among the crew on the way to their homes.
(
Western Daily Mercury
, 29 April 1912)
SURVIVORS ARRIVE
A large number of the survivors of the
Titanic
's crew were landed at Plymouth yesterday by the
Lapland
.
Some of them had amazing stories to tell. One of them spoke of a millionaire who offered 5000 dollars if he could be saved.
Another described the escape of a wealthy man and his wife in the emergency boat, and added that there was a distribution of cheques on the
Carpathia
.
It appears that great difficulty was experienced in getting some of the third-class passengers and crew to believe that the liner was in peril, and the survivors say that many perished through disregarding the warnings given.
Of the âblack squad' on duty at the time of the disaster only very few were saved. They drew the fires to prevent the boilers exploding, and before they got out the water was above their waists.
On being put ashore the men whose depositions had been taken were free to roam about the dockyard, and many of them made for the gates outside which friends and townspeople were congregated. Many affectionate reunions took place in spite of the barrier between.
Comedy and tragedy went hand in hand. A pale youth from the stokehold leaning against the gates told his friends of the loss of his brother. âHe was in the watch down below at the time we struck,' he said. âI was in the watch which was to relieve him at midnight. As I started to go down I found the water rising in the stoke-hold. It being impossible for me to get below, I went on deck. I never saw my brother again.'
A young steward said his chief memory of the disaster was the nonchalance that prevailed. âLots of us who turned out when we felt the first shock of the collision went back to our bunks again, thinking nothing had happened,' he said. âFor some of them the sleep to which they returned proved to be the last sleep, I think.'
Many of the New York stories that have been regarded as inventions found corroboration among the crew.
âI heard one millionaire who was offering 5000 dollars if he could be saved,' one man told me. âI didn't hear him myself, but it was all the talk among our gang. Some of them heard it. Today the American papers are printing the man's name in letters a foot long as a national hero.'
Another man, one of the firemen, spoke of a wealthy man who escaped in what is called the emergency boat â that is a boat which is kept ready for prompt lowering in case of âman overboard'.
âHe got his wife and family and some friends into that boat and got it lowered, promising the men who were rowing £5 apiece. The morning after we were picked up by the
Carpathia
the boat's crew was summoned to the saloon deck, and there received the money, in cheques.'
(
Daily Sketch
, 29 April 1912)
On landing at Plymouth, an unnamed steward in the first-class saloon tried to separate fact from fiction.
The millionaires certainly did not run the ship and all talk of Maj. Butt and Mr Astor introducing a system and seeing after the boats is entirely wrong. I saw them all the time, and they were just standing by and doing what they were told like anyone else. They did not, however, show any sign of panic.
Until the very end no one had any idea how serious the affair was. The only panic was among the Dagoes, one of whom I did see shot through the chin. As for the ladies, they behaved splendidly during the disaster, but told some terrible falsehoods after. The stories of their having helped in the rowing are much exaggerated. In my own boat, a dinghy, a lady put her arm on my shoulder, and I dare say she thought she was helping me. The difficulty all through was to get them into the boats, and several of them I had personally to throw head foremost in.
If you ask me who were the real heroes of the disaster I should say certainly Colonel Gracie, the best American there. Then there was Mr Andrews, one of the designers of the ship, who was here, there and everywhere, helping always and never troubling about his own life. He did not even put on a lifebelt nor, of course, did Captain Smith, who behaved splendidly. Captain Smith's last words were not âBe British' although by sentiment they might have been: they were, âI'm finished. Look after yourselves.'
Murdoch was splendid too, but I fear it is true that he did shoot himself. He did not do so, however, till the very end, when he had done everything he could for others.
Another hero was old Freeman, the deck steward, who to the very last was tying deck chairs together as hard as he could and throwing them overboard to serve as rafts for the people who had dived. He could easily have saved his own life, but did not seem to think of it.
(
Daily Chronicle
, 29 April 1912)
Tragic Disappointment of a Waiting Woman
From dawn this morning till darkness Southampton has been anxiously awaiting the return of the
Titanic
survivors. Among those on the steamer
Lapland
were 150 Southampton people.
The most pathetic incident of the day was a terrible misunderstanding. A Mrs F. W. Barrett, whose husband was on the
Titanic
, had received a message from New York saying that her husband was saved and was on his way home.
She had prepared to meet him, and was even informed that he was travelling in the train from Plymouth.
This afternoon, however, Mrs Barrett received a telegram stating that the traveller was not her husband, but another man with the same name. Mrs Barrett gave birth to twins two days after the wreck of the
Titanic
.
(
Daily Graphic
, 29 April 1912)
Inquiries among other survivors brought to light several instances of heroic self-sacrifice. When the vessel took her last terrible plunge, two young stewards, who had been awaiting the event together, found themselves still companions in the icy water. They had been chums on board, and they determined to make their bid for life together. One, stronger than his friend and a good swimmer, set out in the darkness, helping his shipmate with his strength and encouraging words. Though not seen he was heard to say: âKeep your pecker up, old man, or you'll never see Southampton.' The next minute they were hauled into a boat, one at each end. Both were exhausted, and for one the ordeal had been too much. The man of weaker frame had succumbed when his body was lifted on to the
Carpathia
.
Another grim tragedy, more tragic, because it happened hidden away in the depths of the
Titanic
, amidst the din of the reversed engines. One of the engineers hurrying to a point of duty, and observing that a plate had been removed, stepped into an opening and broke his leg â according to some, both legs. He lay groaning and helpless, when a leading hand and a greaser, putting aside all thoughts of their own safety, carried him to the power-room, where he remained.
With the greaser, the poor fellow went down with the ship, unable to help himself even if opportunity had offered. The leading hand was more fortunate.
When the full story of the
Titanic
is unfolded, these displays of magnificent pluck will be found unsurpassed. For instance, nothing could be finer than the resolute nobility of the engineer who swam up to an already fully laden boat just at the moment that the last cries of the victims were ringing in the ears of the survivors. He came up to the side of the boat.
âDon't come to us, or we shall all go,' the occupants yelled.
With a display of self-possession that nothing could exceed, he shouted back, âDon't mind me; go on.' Though the alternative was death, he made no attempt to grasp the gunwale, and he was lost to view.
A brighter incident may be recorded here. A boat was about to be lowered away. âMore women and children,' had been shouted. The only response was that of a father who stepped forward with his child in his arms. He wished to place the little one in the boat and remain on board, but the child clung to him frantically. The occupants of the boat exhorted him to come as well, and he yielded. A few moments sufficed, and the child had saved his father.
