HOPE REVIVED BY SIGHT OF CATTLE BOAT.
The Californian, a cattle ship, came near us, and though it gave no sign of having any of the Titanic’s refugees on board, its presence in the vicinity gave hope to many women who were encouraged in the belief that the Californian might have picked up their loved ones.
Captain Rostrom’s decision to abandon the Mediterranean course, begun the Thursday before, and to return to an American port, was soon known to the passengers. At first it was reported that Halifax or Boston would be the destination, but at noon the notice of the intended arrival at New York three days later was posted. At that time the Carpathia, at an increase over her usual moderate speed, was westward bound and her passengers were deferring their hopes of Gibraltar, Naples and Trieste, and were sharing their rooms with the newcomers. Few men of the Carpathia’s passenger list slept in a bed in any of the nights that followed. They had the men of the Titanic lay in chairs on deck, on dining tables or smoking-room couches, or on the floors of the rooms which held their hand baggage and their curtained-off guests. The captain was the first to vacate his room, which was used as a hospital.
In the first cabin library, women of wealth and refinement mingled their grief and asked eagerly for news of the possible arrival of a belated boat, or a message from some other steamer telling of the safety of their husbands. Mrs. Henry B. Harris, wife of a New York theatrical manager, checked her tears long enough to beg that some message of hope be sent to her father-in-law. Mrs. Ella Thor, Miss Marie Young, Mrs. Emil Taussig and her daughter, Ruth; Mrs. Martin Rothschild, Mrs. William Augustus Spencer, Mrs. J. Stuart White and Mrs. Walter M. Clark were a few of those who lay back, exhausted, on the leather cushions and told in shuttering sentences of their experiences.