Voices from the Titanic (9 page)

Dear Father and Mother, We arrived on board this morning after a night's rest at Southampton. We put up at an Hotel named Berrimans. The lady who owns it is a Cornish lady. We had a
good supper and a good breakfast of ham and eggs, we were doing it fine. I slept with a young man named Wills – a brother to the man who married Mrs Trevask's daughter. He came to Southampton to see his sister-in-law. We had several people joined us at St Erth bound for the same place as we are going so we are a big family altogether. Well dear Mother, I suppose you are missing me but don't be downhearted, old dear Percy will be behaved to you as a son ought to treat his Mother and Father. The going away from home will make me a better man and try and lead a good life. The
Titanic
is a marvel, I can tell you. I have never seen such a sight in all my life, she is like a floating palace, everything up to date. I hope you are all well as it leaves me at present. Father I shall never forget your kindness, you have done more for me than many Fathers have done for their sons. Well dear parents I don't think there is any more news I can tell you now. Kiss Grandma for me and tell her I am sorry for all my wicked thoughts which I said to her, but never again, will I cheek her. Give my best love to all who ask for me. I will draw my letter to a close hoping you one and all are quite well. I remain your loving son.

Dear Uncle, Just writing a few lines to let you know that I have got to Southampton all right. We got to Southampton about 7.30 in the evening and we all lodge at the Alliance Hotel. I could not sleep that night. I am not downhearted yet, I am happy. J. Lovell.

I am sending you a postcard of the
Titanic
. We started from Southampton about 12 o'clock last Wednesday. Slept well the first night. I been on ship one and a half days. I am not sea sick yet. I am enjoying myself fine. Good bye. J. H. Lovell.

The first class apartments are really magnificent and unless you had first seen them you would think the second class were the same. We were due to reach Cherbourg at 5 p.m., but not there yet although mail is cleared. I think I'd best try and get some postcards of the vessel. My fellow passenger hasn't turned up yet, so if she is coming it will be from Cherbourg or Queenstown. I was advised to eat well so had a good lunch – two clergymen opposite me at table. No sign of sea sickness yet – I mustn't crow … The only thing I object to is new paint so far. Must clear and have a wash now. Will pop this in the post in case I'm sea sick tomorrow… Much love Kate.

We left Cherbourg late on account of the trouble at Southampton, but once off, everything seemed to go perfectly. The boat was so luxurious, so steady, so immense, and such a marvel of mechanism that one could not believe he was on a boat – and there the danger lay. We had smooth seas, clear, starlit nights, fresh favouring winds; nothing to mar our pleasure.

On Saturday, as Mr Douglas and I were walking forward, we saw a seaman taking the temperature of the water. The deck seemed so high above the sea I was interested to know
if the tiny pail could reach it. There was quite a breeze, and, although the pail was weighted, it did not. This I watched from the open window of the covered deck. Drawing up the pail, the seaman filled it with water from the stand pipe, placed the thermometer in it, and went with it to the officer in charge.

On Sunday we had a delightful day; everyone in the best of spirits. The time the boat was making was considered very good, and all were interested in getting into New York early.

(US Inquiry, 9 May 1912)

Dear Mother, I travelled from Liverpool on Monday by the 12 o'clock train – arrived on Ward at 10 p.m. feeling pretty tired. I am very well and am gradually settled in my new cabin which is larger than my last. This seems all the time as if it were the
Olympic
and I like it very much. I am a member of the Club now which is an advantage. Be sure to let me know how father gets on with his club. I was glad to get away from Liverpool as usual and don't intend to go up for a month or two. I found my two trunks unlocked and five or six dollars stolen out of my pocketbook. I hope none of my stamps have been stolen. Did I have my old portmanteau when I borrowed the kit bag? I think not. With fondest love, John.

Dear Mother, I'm so happy being first class! I already know some nice people! A diamond king! Mr Astor, one of the wealthiest Americans, is on board! Thousand kisses, Alfred.

We are just sailing today by this boat for New York – 4000 tons – all well. With love to all. Your loving Sis E. B.

Dear Father and Mother and Sisters. I am sending another photo of the same ship. This is the third one I sent you. This goes from Queenstown and the last one I sent from Cherbourg, the first one from Southampton. They are three different views of the same ship. I am not sick yet. She is a nice ship to ride on. I'll write from New York next time. From your loving son Stephen.

I walked into the palm court of the Carleton Hotel on Pall Mall in the middle of the afternoon. The streets around the hotel and the hotel itself were deserted except for one group of people gathered under the shade of a sheltering palm whom I recognized as a family from Winnipeg, Manitoba, by the name of Fortune who had been passengers to Egypt in January on the same steamer as myself. At once the young people started calling me to join them for tea.

During the trip from New York I became very well acquainted with the second daughter, Alice, who was a very pretty girl and an excellent dancing partner. Soon after I joined them that afternoon, one of the first questions Alice asked me was, ‘When are you going home?' I explained I had only the day before paid for a state room on the
Mauretania
for the following Saturday. Before tea was over I promised Alice to drop in at the Cunard Line office the next morning and see if the company would refund my passage money.

If Alice herself was not enough inducement, her assurance that she knew of twenty people who would be passengers on
the
Titanic
who had been on our steamer in January certainly was.

I remember I chummed around those first four days with a young, unmarried man about my age by the name of William Dulles who had been on the steamer going over in the winter. He was a gentleman, a trotting horse breeder from Goshen, New York. I saw him early Sunday evening, but I never saw him again.

Sunday night we all enjoyed the glorious sunset from the decks of the
Titanic
as the sun sank like a ball of fire into the sea.

I returned to the library of the ship and sat down at one of the desks to write thank you letters to some of my London friends with whom I had visited during the two weeks I was there. A very pretty young woman approached my desk and introduced herself as Miss Dorothy Gibson. She explained that she and her mother were seated across the room hoping that they would be able to find another card player to make a fourth at bridge. Although I was not then and never have been a good bridge player I accepted to join her as soon as I finished my letter.

At 11.30 we were still playing bridge when the library steward came over to our table and asked us to finish up our game so that he could put out the lights and retire.

At the top of the stairs Dorothy announced that she would like to take a brisk walk around the promenade deck before going to bed. After saying good night to Mrs Gibson I hastily ran to my cabin to don a hat and overcoat.

Suddenly the ship gave a lurch and seemed to slightly keel over to the left. At the same moment Dorothy came hastily up the stairs and we ran together onto the promenade deck on the starboard side. Peering off into the starlit night, we could both of us see something white looming up out of the water and rapidly disappearing off the stern. As we came amidship we seemed to be walking down hill.

We found that in the few moments we had been walking around the deck thirty or forty passengers had gathered, most
of them dressed in night clothes and dressing gowns. At this moment the designer of the ship, at whose table in the dining saloon Mrs Gibson and Dorothy had been sitting at mealtimes during the voyage, came bouncing up the stairs three at a time. Dorothy rushed over to him, put her hands on his arm and demanded to know what had happened. Without answering and with a worried look on his face, he brushed Dorothy aside and continued on up the next flight of steps, presumably on his way to the captain's bridge.

I went on watch at 8 o'clock Sunday night and stood by the men at the wheel until 10. At 10 I took the wheel for two hours.

On the bridge from 10 o'clock were First Officer Murdoch, Fourth Officer Boxhall and Sixth Officer Moody. In the crow's nest were Fleet and another man whose name I don't know.

Second Officer Lightoller, who was on watch while I stood by, carrying messages and the like, from 8 to 10, sent me soon after 8 to tell the carpenter to look out for the fresh water supply, as it might be in danger of freezing. The temperature was then 31 degrees. He gave the crow's nest a strict order to look out for small icebergs.

Second Officer Lightoller was relieved by First Officer Murdoch at 10 and I took the wheel then. At 11.40 three gongs sounded from the crow's nest, the signal for ‘something right ahead'.

At the same time one of the men in the nest telephoned to the bridge that there was a large iceberg right ahead. As Officer Murdoch's hand was on the lever to stop the engines the crash came. He stopped the engines, then immediately by another lever closed the watertight doors.

The skipper came from the chart room onto the bridge. His first words were: ‘Close the emergency doors.'

‘They're already closed, sir,' Mr Murdoch replied.

‘Send to the carpenter and tell him to sound the ship,' was the skipper's next order. The message was sent to the carpenter. The carpenter never came up to report. He was probably the first man on that ship to lose his life.

The skipper looked at the commutator, which shows in what direction the ship is listing. He saw that she carried five degrees list to starboard.

The ship was then rapidly settling forward. All the steam sirens were blowing. By the skipper's orders, given in the next few minutes, the engines were put to work at pumping out the ship, distress signals were sent by Marconi and rockets were sent up from the bridge by Quartermaster Rowe. All hands were ordered on deck.

(
New York World
, 19 April 1912)