ESCORTED BY BRITISH CRUISER ESSEX
On her melancholy journey the Lady Grey was escorted by the British cruiser Essex, which had been cruising 348 miles below Quebec, and received a wireless order from the Admiralty to make all speed to the scene of the collision and render every possible assistance.
The Lady Grey at five minutes past eight proceeded to pier No. 27, where the huge shed was transformed into a mortuary chamber. The entrance was draped with black and purple, while inside three long counters had been constructed to accommodate the bodies.
As the Lady Grey drew up with the Union Jack half-masted at the stern, her bulwarks were lined with a hundred blue-jackets and marines from the Essex, under Commander Tweedie, who had been detailed to remove the coffins from the death ship. This was most fortunate, for the British seamen not only lent the necessary touch of dignity to the scene, as without a word and scarcely a sound they carried the dreadfully long row of bodies ashore, but they did the work with most impressive skill. The men were evidently weighted with this terrible illustration of the dangers of the sea, and worked with solemn intentness during the long hour and a quarter it took to get the dread cargo from the Lady Grey.
Inside all was gloom, tears and death, while outside the sun shone gloriously as the marines continued at their task, the silence only broken by the busy clicking of moving-picture machines and the snapping of many cameras. The arrival of the corpse-laden vessel had driven home the whole horror of the catastrophe, and people moved around on tiptoes, talking in hushed whispers as the place became more and more populous with its load of coffins.