CARPATHIA’S WELCOME RETURN.
At 6 o’clock in the morning the wireless flashed to the shore that the Carpathia was abreast of the Nantucket light ship. This is 187 miles from Ambrose Light, at the entrance to the Channel. The Carpathia is rated as a thirteen knot boat, and it was not believed port would be reached until at least 11 o’clock at night.
But a favorable wind beat upon the ship that was bringing home the grief-stricken women who had sailed so joyously on the Titanic. The gale that beat the waves, also hurried the ship on the last leg to port. It seemed that Captain Rostrom, in command, anticipating possibly that fog might make dangerous a trip up the channel in the night, had wished to avoid the scores of tugs that he knew would be sent to meet him.
In consequence, the first word that came from Fire Island Light was vague and uncertain. They knew only that a great vessel, lighted from stem to stern, was approaching the harbor, but whether it was the Carpathia, the Mauretania or some other liner, could not be ascertained.
But when the vessel came opposite Ambrose Light, there was no longer any doubt. From Sandy Hook to Quarantine and to all the stations up the channel the word was flashed that the Carpathia was coming. From the Battery to the Bronx the news spread and sent thousands hurrying toward the great Cunard docks.
Then the tugs began snorting and steaming as they pushed the large hulk around in midstream. Slowly she yielded until headed straight toward the slip.
The slow process was accomplished while a dozen other tugs pressed their noses against the sides, and those on board tried vainly to get some connected descriptions of the great catastrophe that stunned the peoples of two continents.
Their efforts were largely futile. The passengers were too far away for their voices to carry well. The crew, acting under instructions, which, rightly or wrongly, have been credited by persons here to the desires of J. Bruce Ismay, the White Star Line chief, who escaped in one of the boats from the Titanic, refused to give any information they may have procured.
While the ship was being docked, the photographers on the tugs were active. Flash after flash shot across the water as the camera men took their pictures.
Finally the Carpathia was fast at her dock, and the gangways were lowered to let the sorrow-laden survivors ashore to receive the welcome that awaited them.
CHAPTER XVII.
REFUSED TO LEAVE HUSBAND.
“Where You Are I Shall Be,” Said Mrs. Isidor Straus—He Begged Her in Vain to Enter the Waiting Lifeboat—Women Row Lifeboats—Stokers no Oarsmen—Crazed Men Rescued—Collapsible Boats Failed to Work.
The story of how Mrs. Isidor Straus, wife of the New York merchant, met death with her husband on the Titanic rather than be separated from him, was rendered complete when Miss Ellen Bird, maid to Mrs. Straus, told how the self-sacrifice of Mrs. Straus made it possible for her to escape a watery grave.
Miss Bird also supplied details of the appealing scenes between Mrs. Straus and her husband when the elderly though heroic woman brushed aside three opportunities to be saved, declaring to solicitous passengers that death in her husband’s arms was more to be desired than life without him.
Miss Bird’s narrative was repeated by Sylvester Byrnes, general manager of R. H. Macy & Co. He said:
“When the Titanic struck the iceberg Mr. and Mrs. Straus were walking arm in arm on the upperdeck. Although assured by the officers that there was no immediate cause for alarm, Mrs. Straus, with her husband, hurried to the stateroom of her maid, cautioning Miss Bird to dress hurriedly and as comfortably as she could, because the passengers might have to take to the lifeboats. Then Mr. and Mrs. Straus returned to the deck, where, shortly after, they were joined by Miss Bird.
“Mr. Straus stepped aside when the first boat was being filled, explaining that he could not go until all the women and children had been given places. ‘Where you are, Papa, I shall be,’ spoke up Mrs. Straus, rejecting all entreaties to enter the boat.
“Mr. Straus vainly attempted to persuade his wife to enter the second boat, assuring her that eventually he would find a place after all the women and children had been taken off.
“Miss Bird, who was making her first trip across, having been engaged in London by Mrs. Straus, joined other passengers in urging Mrs. Straus to enter the boat, but she clung closer to her husband and repeated previous declarations that unless Mr. Straus accompanied her she would remain behind. Mr. Straus only shook his head.
“One after another the boats were lowered. Finally that in which Mrs. John Jacob Astor was rescued was made ready. ‘Here is a place for you, Mrs. Straus!’ cried Mrs. Astor. Mrs. Straus only shrank closer to her husband.
“Several passengers, at least two of them being women, attempted to force Mrs. Straus into the boat, but she cried out against separation from her husband and ordered her maid, Miss Bird, to take the place beside Mrs. Astor.
“‘You go,’ said Mrs. Straus to the maid. ‘I must stay with my husband.’