SHIP’S END ONLY A QUESTION OF MINUTES.
“About 2 A. M., as near as I can remember, we observed her settling very rapidly, with the bows and the bridge completely under water, and concluded it was now only a question of minutes before she went, and so it proved. She slowly tilted straight on end, with the stern vertically upward, and, as she did, the light in the cabins and saloons, which had not flickered for a moment since we left, died out, came on again for a single flash, and finally went out altogether. At the same time the machinery roared down through the vessel with a rattle and a groaning that could be heard for miles, the weirdest sound, surely, that could be heard in the middle of the ocean a thousand miles away from land.
“But this was not quite the end. To our amazement, she remained in that upright position for a time which I estimate at five minutes; others in the boat say less, but it was certainly some minutes while we watched at least one hundred and fifty feet of the Titanic towering up above the level of the sea and looming black against the sky.
“Then, with a quiet, slanting dive, she disappeared beneath the waters. And there was left to us the gently heaving sea, the boat filled to standing room with men and women in every conceivable condition of dress and undress; above, the perfect sky of brilliant stars, with not a cloud in the sky, all tempered with a bitter cold that made us all long to be one of the crew who toiled away with the oars and kept themselves warm thereby—a curious, deadening, bitter cold unlike anything we had felt before.
“And then, with all these, there fell on the ear the most appalling noise that ever human ear listened to—the cries of hundreds of our fellow-beings struggling in the icy-cold water, crying for help with a cry that we knew could not be answered. We longed to return and pick up some of those swimming, but this would have meant swamping our boat and further loss of the lives of all of us. We tried to sing to keep the women from hearing the cries, and rowed hard to get away from the scene of the wreck.
“We kept a lookout for lights, and several times it was shouted that steamers’ lights were seen. Presently, low down on the horizon, we saw a light that slowly resolved itself into a double light, and we watched eagerly to see if the two would separate and so prove to be only two of our boats. To our joy they moved as one, and round we swung the boat and headed for her.
“The steersman shouted: ‘Now, boys, sing!’ and for the first time the boat broke into song, ‘Row for the Shore, Sailors,’ and for the first time tears came to the eyes of us all as we realized that safety was at hand. Our rescuer showed up rapidly, and as she swung around we saw her cabins all alight, and knew she must be a large steamship. She was now motionless and we had to row to her. Just then day broke—a beautiful, quiet dawn. We were received with a welcome that was overwhelming in its warmth.”
CHAPTER XVIII.
LADY DUFF-GORDON’S EXPERIENCES.
Says it was as if Giant Hand had Pushed Ship Down—Realistic Picture of Titanic’s Death Plunge—The Long, Dreary Wait—Man at Wheel Tells of Crash—Told by Phone “Iceberg Ahead” Just as Ship Struck—Saw Captain on Bridge.
Almost frenzied by the memory of the disaster through which they had passed many of the survivors were unable for days even to discuss all the details of the Titanic horror.
One of the best accounts was given by Lady Duff-Gordon, wife of Sir Cosmo Duff-Gordon, who dictated it. Her tale shows that the Titanic was near icebergs before she went to bed on the night of the disaster.
Here is her story, as well as that of others:
“I was asleep. The night was perfectly clear. We had watched for some time the fields of ice. There was one just before I went below to retire. I noticed among the fields of ice a number of large bergs.
“There was one which one of the officers pointed out to me. He said that it must have been 100 feet high and seemed to be miles long. It was away off in the distance. I went to my bedroom and retired.
“I was awakened by a long grinding sort of shock. It was not a tremendous crash, but more as though some one had drawn a giant finger all along the side of the boat.
“I awakened my husband and told him that I thought we had struck something. There was no excitement that I could hear, but my husband went up on deck. He returned and told me that we had hit some ice, apparently a big berg, but that there seemed to be no danger. We went on deck.
“No one, apparently, thought there was any danger. We watched a number of women and children and some men going into the lifeboats. At last one of the officers came to me and said, ‘Lady Gordon, you had better go in one of the boats.’
“I said to my husband: ‘Well, we might as well take the boat, although I think it will be only a little pleasure excursion until morning.’
“The boat was the twelfth or thirteenth to be launched. It was the captain’s special boat. There was still no excitement. Five stokers got in and two Americans—A. L. Solomon, of New York, and L. Stengel, of Newark. Besides these there were two of the crew, Sir Cosmo, myself and a Miss Frank, an English girl.
“There were a number of other passengers, mostly men, standing near by and they joked with us because we were going out on the ocean. “The ship can’t sink,” said one of them. “You will get your death of cold out there in the ice.”