“One hour. Perhaps two.”
At that moment only Andrews, Captain Smith, and Johnson, the helmsman, knew the ship was doomed—except for those in the lower sections where the water was already flooding in.
Captain Smith seemingly could not function. Actually, he did nothing. He did not order the boats to be lowered until an hour after the collision. Perhaps the reason was that, as he stood there exchanging horrified glances with Thomas Andrews, both men knew there were not enough boats to carry all the passengers of the Titanic. The regulation required ships of more than ten thousand tons to carry sufficient boats for 962 persons.
The Titanic, originally designed for forty-eight lifeboats, was fitted with only twenty with a rated capacity of 1,178. Four of these, however, were collapsible and only of marginal use. Smith was a good mathematician, and as he counted the passengers and crew and measured those numbers against the boats, he knew that at least thirty-seven standard size boats filled to capacity would be necessary to save those on board. He was also aware that there had never been a lifeboat drill, nor were any of the crews assigned to any specific boat. The passengers would be of no help. Captain Smith realized that his career was at an end.
****
Jeanine was lying down staring at the ceiling, her mind still troubled, when a rapid tapping on her door brought her sharply upright. She had undressed, and going to the door in her nightgown, she whispered, “Who is it?”
“It’s me—Annie. Let me in, Jeanine!”
As Jeanine slipped the lock, Annie came rushing into her bedroom. “Quick, Jeanine, get dressed in your warmest clothes.”
“What are you talking about?” Jeanine said, staring at her. “What’s wrong?”
“It’s the ship. We’ve hit an iceberg. She’s going to sink.”
“Let the sailors run the ship, Annie. It’s not your place—”
At that moment Clive burst in without knocking. “The ship’s going down!” he announced without preamble.
“Both of you are crazy!”
“Do you think so?” Clive asked grimly, his face pale. “Look at this.” He took a coin out of his pocket, balanced it on end on a table, and said, “Watch.” The coin rolled, picked up speed, and fell on the floor. It made a tinkling sound and lay there as the three stared at it. “The stern’s going down and you’ve got to get on a lifeboat.”
Jeanine still could not believe the news, but fear suddenly came over her as she saw the bleak expression in Clive Winters’ eyes. “All right,” she murmured.
“Put on all the warm clothes you have. That water is freezing out there. I’ll get life jackets for us.”
He moved outside the room swiftly, disappeared, and Jeanine looked around helplessly. “We’ll have to take all of our papers with us.”
“No,” Annie said quietly. “We won’t take any of those.”
For the first time, Annie had refused to obey Jeanine’s instructions. Now she realized that Jeanine was incapable of action. “Come along,” she said quietly. “We’ll put on the warmest underwear you have. I’ll do the same. Then put on your black wool coat.”
****
The alarm of the sinking progressed from the upper decks down to the lower decks slowly. There was no command to abandon ship, but the first-class passengers were awakened by the stewards. They were careful to inform them that there was no danger, but the ship had sustained damage. Down below in steerage there was no hint of such imminent danger. Kathleen O’Fallon was sound asleep with her children, Michael and Mary, not knowing that death was quickly approaching.
Jack Phillips looked up to see the captain come into the radio room. “Yes, sir,” he saluted. He had already heard the rumors and now was not surprised at the dismayed look on Smith’s face.
“Send distress signals at once, Phillips.”
“Yes, sir. At once.”
He began sending the distress signals almost immediately. The closest ship was the Californian, but the radio there had been shut off, and Cyril Evans, who might have been at his task even at this unusual hour, would have received the call. But the radio was dead and Evans was sound asleep.
****
Clive soon returned with three life jackets. “You have on your warmest clothing?”
“Yes.”
Clive stared at Jeanine and saw that her face was pale. He could hardly hear her answer. “Are you all right, Jeanine?”
Jeanine could not answer him. She was petrified with fright. “We’re all going to die, Clive,” she whispered. Her eyes were pools of despair and seemed to be sunk far back into their sockets.
“No. There are lifeboats. Come along.”
As the three of them reached the deck, it became obvious that something was happening. As he shoved his way forward, using his strength, one of the officers they did not know said, “Women and children only. No men, I’m afraid, sir.”
Clive stared at the man, then said, “Very well. Take these two women.”
The Strauses were there, and Isidor Straus was urging his wife to get on board.
Annie and Clive both turned as the woman said, “No, husband. We’ve been together too long. I will stay with you. Come now.”
As the two turned away, Clive whispered, “That is some courage that woman has. Now, both of you, get into the boat.”
Annie said, “No, I can’t.”
Both Jeanine and Clive stared at her. “You’ve got to get on the boat, Annie,” Clive said quickly.
“No. Kathleen’s downstairs with the children. Look around. You don’t see any steerage passengers. I’m going to get her.” She ignored Clive’s call and heard Jeanine cry out, “Come back, Annie! Don’t go down there!”
Already, walking was difficult because of the tilt of the ship. The decks were crowded as people fought to get at the lifeboats. She turned down the end of the corridor and began the descent. When she got down to one of the lower levels, she was shocked to see a steel grill across the opening. People were on the other side crying to be let out, but a steward stood there, his face pasty white, saying nothing.
“What are you doing?” Annie cried. “Open the door and let them out!”
“I can’t. They’re not permitted on the upper deck.”
White-hot anger flooded through Annie. She slapped the steward’s face and said, “You fool! Open that door! What’s a rule or regulation? Give me the key!”
The steward’s lips trembled and so did his hands as he reached into his pocket and extracted a key. “Your responsibility,” he muttered, then turned and fled.
Annie unlocked the gate, and as it sprang back she was almost knocked to the deck by the stampede. Men and women, some holding children, some holding their suitcases, burst forth. She waited until the stampede was by and then hurried down as quickly as she could. She found Kathleen inside her room crying and holding her babies helplessly.
“It’s all right, Kathleen,” Annie said quickly. “Here, we’ve got to put the warmest clothes on you, and also on Michael and Mary.”
The two women worked quickly. Kathleen was almost useless, but she grew better as Annie assured, “We won’t worry about this. The Bible says that God will be with us. When we’re in the valley, He’s with us. There’s also a verse that says something about the waters will not overflow us.”
“But what will we do?”
“We’ll get you in a lifeboat.”
Snatching up Michael, Annie saw to it that Kathleen had Mary firmly in her arms and then said, “Let’s go.”
With their burdens in their arms, the two women made their way topside. The chaos they encountered was even worse than when Annie had left. She could not get close to the boats.
“Come on. There’s another boat down this way that won’t be so crowded.” She looked out over the water and saw to her horror a boat leaving with only a dozen people in it. “The fools!” she whispered to herself. She did not know that the boat had been commandeered by Sir Cosmo and Lady Duff Gordon. They had simply climbed into t
he lifeboat along with Lady Duff’s secretary and commanded the sailors to lower it. The boat designed for forty left the ship with twelve. They even refused to return to pick up more survivors after the ship went down.
Perhaps the most “dignified” response to the tragedy of the Titanic was that of Benjamin Guggenheim. When he realized there would be no escape from the cold waters of death, he went to his stateroom, put on his finest clothing, then went on deck to face his fate. He said to his steward, “I think there is grave doubt that the men will get off. I am willing to remain and play the man’s game if there are not enough boats for more than the women and children. I won’t die here like a beast. Tell my wife I played the game straight out and to the end. No woman shall be left aboard this ship because Ben Guggenheim is a coward.”
Annie could not force her way through the crowd. She heard a voice behind her saying, “What’s this, dearie? You can’t get on the boat?”
She turned around to see Molly Brown, her florid face tense.
“It’s not me. It’s Kathleen and her two children.”
“Two little ones, is it?” Molly Brown said. “All right. Let me handle this.” She lifted her voice in a stentorian cry, “Get out of the way, you fools! There are two children here!”
Her cry rose above the babble of the voices, and miraculously a way opened up for them.
“Come along,” Molly ordered. She whispered, “There won’t be enough boats.”
Annie looked around but could not see Jeanine. Clive must have gotten her on another boat, she thought with relief. She waited until Molly and Kathleen were in the boat, then stepped in and took her seat. As the boat lowered toward the water far below, she began to pray for all who would be lost that night.
****
Clive had been waiting to put Jeanine into a boat, but it was filled to capacity. He said quickly, “Come along, there are other boats.”
The two fought their way to the next boat, and by sheer strength Clive got Jeanine into a prominent position close to the rail. But then he glanced around and saw a woman with a small boy struggling to fight her way through the mob. “Wait right here, Jeanine,” he said grimly. “I’ll go help that woman with the child. Just step in the boat when the officer tells you to board.”
Clive made his way through the crowd, and when he reached the woman, he saw that her eyes were glazed with fear. “Come along now,” he said, “I’ll see you to the boat.”
Turning, he felt her pressing against him, and shoving men aside, he forged forward. He reached a point midway through the crowd when a hulking man in a dark suit loomed ahead. “Give way,” Clive shouted. “There’s a woman and child here!”
The big man was half-crazed with panic. He turned and struck Clive in the forehead with a massive fist. The force of the blow drove Clive to the deck, and his head was struck with such force that he lost consciousness.
The noise of shouts and screams came flowing back as Clive became aware that he was being trampled. Confused, he struggled to his feet, and then his mind cleared. His gaze swept the deck, and he could see that the ship was tilted at an extreme angle. He saw also that the lifeboat was in the water and was being rowed away from the ship. He could not see Jeanine but thought, Thank God she made it!
Clive knew he was doomed, but instinct drove him. He began to go toward the bow. The ship tilted more and more, and inside some of the staterooms they could hear tables rolling and dishes falling. Suddenly Clive started and cried out, “Jeanine! I thought you were on the boat!”
“I went back to my cabin to get my jewels.”
Clive stared at her with shock but knew talk was useless. “Come along. We’ll get you on one.”
It was too late. The boats were all gone and the ship was now tilted at an acute angle.
“We’ve got life jackets,” Jeanine said.
“They won’t do any good,” Clive murmured. “That water is freezing. Nobody could live more than a few minutes in that kind of water—half an hour at the most.”
Jeanine seemed to be paralyzed. Her mind was chaotic, and her face was broken into lines that had not existed before. She reached out blindly, and Clive put his arms around her.
Clive’s mind was working rapidly. He murmured, “We’ve got to find a way to keep you from freezing in the water, Jeanine.”
“How can I do that without a boat?”
Clive suddenly straightened up and said, “Thank you, Lord!”
“What is it, Clive?” Jeanine cried.
“Just thought of something. Follow me!”
They had to go against the grain because everybody was moving toward the bow. The stern was already under, and the water was lapping over it. It was only a matter of minutes now. When they were halfway down the ship, almost to where the water was at their feet, Clive said, “Stay right here.”
Jeanine shivered and tried not to look at the sea. All she could think of was death, and the idea of the cold depths paralyzed her with fear. Suddenly there was a clattering and the door opened. Clive was shoving a large barrel some three feet high toward her.
He ripped off the top, saying, “Here, Jeanine, get in here.”
“What are you talking about?”
“You’ve got to get in this barrel. It will float and you can stay dry in here.” When he saw she didn’t comprehend, he simply picked her up and put her inside. “Now,” he said, “this was a beer barrel and it probably stinks like beer, but it will save your life, Jeanine. When the ship goes down, you sit down. Be sure you sit down or the barrel will tip over. I’m going to tie a canvas over the top so the waves won’t wash over the top and sink the barrel. You’ve got to stay dry until help comes. Do you understand that?”
Jeanine was in the barrel. She stared around wildly. “But what about you?”
“Don’t worry about me.” Actually this was the only barrel Clive could find. He had spent some time with one of the stewards who had shown him around the ship, and he had been amazed by the vast amount of alcoholic beverages. He had seen row after row of bottles of wine, champagne, and liquor of all kinds, but also barrels of beer. Many of them had been emptied already on the short voyage.
Now Clive looked at Jeanine and said, “I think God put this into my mind, Jeanine. He wants you to live. Now I’ll go get some canvas and line.”
Jeanine felt the tilt of the deck, and by the time Clive returned with his arms full of canvas, she knew he was giving his life for her. “I can’t leave you! You’ll die here!”
Clive was as calm as a man could be. He said, “I’m ready to meet the Lord, Jeanine. You’re not. You must live, and you must take Christ as your Savior. You must do it now.”
Jeanine listened as Clive began to speak of how to find God. She was weeping freely, and finally he put his arms around her and kissed her. “Remember, there was one man who loved you more than life itself. Find Jesus, Jeanine!”
Jeanine stared at him, and then his strong hands pushed her down. She sat down flat and put her arms around her knees as everything went dark. Clive wrapped the canvas around the top in three layers and bound it tightly. “I was always good at knots,” he murmured, smiling grimly.
He began to work the barrel down until the cold water lapped around the base. Slowly he moved it until it was half-covered, and then the buoyancy took hold and it rose. “Good-bye, Jeanine—I love you!” he shouted, then maneuvered it over the side. The waves took it, washing it away from the sinking ship.
Clive Winters stood alone, watching the barrel bob on the choppy waters. He was calm and suddenly remembered what a minister had once said in a sermon long ago: God will not give you dying grace this morning—for you don’t need it, you’re not dying. But when your hour comes to die, God will give you grace. Of that you may be certain.
And it was true! Clive stood straight, his eyes on the barrel that was now almost invisible—and felt no fear. I’ll be with Him this day in Paradise, he thought, and a faint smile came to his lips.
****
> Annie Rogers stood on board the Carpathia. She had been taken aboard at dawn, and her chief concern had been for Kathleen and the children. It took all of her strength to keep the younger woman from breaking down completely.
Now she said as she held Michael on her lap, “You see. You’re all right, Kathleen. You’ll be in America soon. We’ll see that Michael and Mary have a good home.”
“Oh, Annie, what would I have done if it hadn’t been for you! I’d be dead with all the rest of them!”
Annie believed that Clive and Jeanine were dead. They had not been picked up by the crew of the Carpathia, and now Annie’s heart was saddened and numb with grief at the loss of these two who had meant so much to her.
She finally went to her bunk and lay down, but sleep would not come. “Oh, Jeanine . . . Jeanine!” she moaned. “Why did you have to die?”
She didn’t know how long she was there, but after a time, a knock came and a sailor stepped in. “Captain says come topside, miss.”
She went up and found Captain Rostron. She had spoken to him before, telling him of her admiration. He had brought his ship through ice, dodging the bergs at full speed to rescue the survivors. After she had been on board, he had asked her gently, “Did you lose a husband?”
“No, but two dear friends.”
“We’re still searching,” Captain Rostron had said. “But I can offer no hope.”
Now as Annie came up on the deck, she saw Rostron standing by the side. He pulled her to the rail and pointed down. “Look!”
Annie looked over the side and to her astonishment saw Jeanine. The boat was almost even with the deck, and Jeanine cried out, “Annie—Annie!”
Soon the two women were in a cabin, and Jeanine was pouring out her story. Amidst tears, Annie listened, with her heart full for the man she had grown to admire.
Jeanine was shivering, although she was now in a warm cabin and bundled in blankets. She told the story of how Clive had saved her, then said, “He gave his life for me, Annie. He loved me that much.” She talked for a long time about Clive, and then she looked at Annie and whispered, “When I was in that barrel with death all around me, I could hear the cries of those who were dying, and all I could think of was that Clive could have saved himself, but he didn’t. He saved me.”
The White Hunter Page 17