Simultaneously feeling the sting of the reproof and the comfort of the manliness of her fiancé, Emma fell in behind her mother and dutifully followed Charles, with Maisie bringing up the rear.
In the hallway they saw a few passengers emerging in nightclothes with coats pulled carelessly over their shoulders, wandering aimlessly about and speculating about the nature of the trouble. Few had put on life belts and with no sense of urgency anywhere around them, Emma felt like a child overdressed for winter when spring had arrived. She was about to protest again, but seeing the serious expression on Charles’ face, she held her tongue and followed him to the port side of the boat deck. They came upon Officer Lightoller leading some men in stripping the covers off a lifeboat and readying it for lowering. A few other first class women had made their way up to the largely empty deck and all stood casually by. Some were with their husbands; others said the men were stopped from coming up to the boat deck.
“That explains why we haven’t seen your father,” Beth suggested. While Emma chatted with Charles, she reached into her pocket searching for something she couldn’t seem to find. Maisie, ever attentive since the bout with typhoid, knew what her mistress was looking for and discreetly moved closer to whisper to her.
“I refilled your two flasks and put them in your inside pocket, Mrs. Willows.”
“Thank you, Maisie. The brandy might help against the cold.”
The small group idly watched the boats being readied with no more concern than if they had been watching a street sweeper at work. None had ever really looked at a lifeboat before, let alone been in one, and there was more curiosity than worry among the onlookers.
“Excuse me, sir!” A tall heavyset woman with absurdly small feet and an enormous feathered hat barged passed Maisie. “I said, excuse me, sir!” She was wearing a fur coat trimmed in fox about the collar. The dead animal’s glass eyes stared out next to the darting eyes of a shivering little Chihuahua, wrapped in its own tiny mink coat and tucked under the woman’s fat neck. She shouted over the dog’s ears to get the attention of Mr. Lightoller.
“I take it these are all reserved for the first class, are they?” Her light blue eyes snapped with impatience, and her jowls shook as she flipped a gloved hand in the direction of the boats on the forward deck. Mr. Lightoller turned away, and it wasn’t clear to Maisie whether he had deliberately avoided the question. But as she looked around, it was plain to see that there were only first class passengers on the deck. Her heart leaped as she remembered that the ship was segregated and there were gates in place to separate the classes. When were they going to allow the others up to the boats? Had they even been told they should come up?
Activity intensified with shouting from the crewmen. Long ropes were dropped into place and the davits swung the lifeboat out over the water. As it swayed and settled, a crewman cried out, “Lifeboat number four is ready, sir!
Mr. Lightoller waved his arms, “Women and children only! Come quickly, ladies. Step lively and get on board.”
The fat lady yelled back with obvious disdain for the arrangements. “No, thank you, Mr. Lightoller.” The feathers jumped in her bonnet as she jerked her chin forward. “I really don’t think I can manage that ghastly leap from the deck out onto that boat, sir. I will wait for another lifeboat. Where is Captain Smith? I wish to speak to him.”
Her pronouncement set off a ripple of commentary and speculation among the passengers gathered on the deck. “That is very far, indeed,” suggested one of the men as he eyed the lifeboat. “Perhaps there is a gangplank or bridge to assist in the transfer to the boats. I daresay, Mr. Lightoller, I should think this will be a bit of hazard.”
The group hesitated, and Mr. Lightoller threw his hands up, turning his attention to ordering a group of seamen to get the next boat ready.
“Charles, do you think it’s safe?” Emma’s eyes were wide as she clutched his arm.
“It is perfectly safe. It’s nothing more than a short step, and you must get into the boat as quickly as possible,” he insisted. “I will help you, and there will be seamen on board to be sure that everything is done properly.”
While Charles comforted Emma and her mother, Maisie broke from the group and moved closer to the deckhands to see if she could hear something useful.
“It’s seventy feet to the water, sir,” she overheard the urgent voice of one of the older seamen. “I don’t think it wise to fill the boats up completely. What if the davits don’t hold and we drop the boat? The women will all die whilst we’re tryin’ to save them, sir!”
Maisie went white with fear and moved away before she heard what Mr. Lightoller would have to say in response. She stepped toward the edge of the ship and leaned out over the rail to look over the side of the ship. A cry caught in her throat when she realized how far it was down to the black shiny sea. It was like standing on top of a skyscraper.
She pulled back and thoughts of home and her Aunt Hannah’s fear of traveling on the water gripped her. She could see her breath in the air and her nose was already cold. The temperature had plummeted since the afternoon. Being in the water would mean death in minutes. She pulled her collar up tightly and tried to stop her teeth from chattering. Whether her shaking was from fear or the cold she couldn’t tell, but she knew she had to get hold of her emotions and compose herself before rejoining the others. Her life depended on it.
She thought of her grandfather and his wise ways. She heard his words in her mind. When things get bad, think of something that makes you thankful. It seemed like a ridiculous notion, but she needed to have something to hang on to. It instantly came to her that they all had their winter coats on and there was no wind. There was not even a hint of a breeze in the midnight air and the sea appeared as flat as a midsummer lake. At least they would not be set adrift in a rolling ocean. The optimism revived her. Perhaps they wouldn’t have to leave the Titanic at all. Maybe this was just a precaution, and they would soon all be allowed to go back to bed.
An ear splitting sound shattered her composure. Rockets! An incongruous shower of sparkling streams of light, so immediately recognized as a sign of celebration, instead was announcing with certainty that the ship would founder. It was a desperate cry out for help to nearby ships. In an instant everyone on board knew this horrid truth and the question was simply, when would it sink? Panic rose as passengers were suddenly motivated to get into the boats. A roaring blast of steam erupted from the bowels of the ship, rendering conversation impossible.
Mr. Lightoller shouted as loud as he could over the chaos as he returned to the task of trying to organize the passengers for the troublesome boat number four.
“Ladies, please go down the stairs to ‘A’ deck, the promenade deck! It will be easier and safer to get in to the boats from the windows on the deck below!” Maisie rushed back so as not to be separated from Emma and Mrs. Willows, and Charles led them down the stairs.
“Hey, what’s this? The windows are shut!” the seaman yelled as the party crammed forward on the promenade deck. “Everyone, go back up to the boat deck!”
“Is there anyone in charge who knows what is going on?” shouted a frustrated woman.
“Where is Rupert? Why hasn’t he come for us?” Beth cried out.
“Mrs. Willows, we need to go back up to the boat deck,” Charles urged. “Mr. Willows is probably up there. He may be having trouble finding you.”
On returning on the boat deck, a shout came up from the deck below that the windows had been opened. Mr. Lightoller apologized as he sent the nervous troupe for lifeboat four down a second time. Finally they were able to step through the windows and seat themselves in the boat.
“Charles, I am so frightened. Please come with us.” Emma’s eyes filled with tears and she refused to loosen her grip on his arm.
“You’ll be fine, Emma, dear. I must go get an extra coat for my mother. I will find your father and let him know you are safe. Emma, just know that I love you and I will be waiting for you when this
is all over. You are my life and my own true love.”
She kissed him hurriedly and felt the strength of his arms around her as he helped her gently into the lifeboat. She obediently took her place between her mother and Maisie. She gripped the locket he had given her. Charles waved and blew her a kiss. Then he was gone.
Another rocket exploded overhead and lit up the sky. Beth lost her nerve and started to sob. A familiar young woman, slight and fragile in appearance approached the boat clinging to her husband. Emma recognized her as Mrs. Astor, the eighteen-year-old wife of the recently divorced Mr. Jacob Astor.
“Please, commander, my wife is having a baby in just a few months and in her delicate condition I really do think it best if I accompany her and help with the other ladies,” Mr. Astor begged.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Astor. Women and children only, under orders from the captain.” Mr. Lightoller would not bend.
Right behind the famous millionaire, a lanky boy threw a leg over the rail and jumped in. Lightoller caught him by the collar. “Women and children only! Step out, please!”
“He’s only thirteen! A child!” A woman was crying. “Please, Mr. Lightoller, this boy is a child. Please, let me have my son! Please, sir, he’s just a boy!” The tears streamed down her cheeks as she grabbed for him, and the commander waved that he would allow him to go.
Emma watched as Mr. Astor kissed his leather gloves and tossed them down into the lap of his terrified wife. Fresh pain cut through Emma, as the young woman crushed the gloves to her face and wept.
Suddenly the ship lurched sharply to port and women shrieked in fear that they would be dropped into the sea as the lifeboat swung out an additional foot and a half from the ship.
“Everyone over to starboard! All passengers, quickly now! Everyone get over to the starboard side!” An officer was shouting nearby, and people panicked and ran.
“They’re trying to stop the list of the ship with the weight of the passengers,” Mr. Perkis, the commander of the lifeboat explained.
At this point, the lifeboat was about half filled with just over thirty passengers, almost all of them women. The boat was left to dangle precariously in the davits, too far from the ship to allow passengers to jump in. Throngs of people were now streaming onto the promenade deck, fighting for a place in a lifeboat.
“Get a deck chair!” a crewman was shouting. “We need something to use as a bridge to get people into the boat!”
The rockets exploded again and, with another jerk, the list to port slipped farther, and the lifeboat jumped like a toy being yanked on a string. It was a living, screaming nightmare with time racing and standing still all at once. Beth fainted, and Emma held onto her mother for dear life as Maisie kept a close eye on the creaking davits. Would they hold?
Below deck, Rupert heaved the heavy buffalo coat over his evening clothes and struggled with his life belt, finally deciding to carry it. He emerged on the boat deck in time to see the two cardsharps neatly make their way toward the boats. My God. They’re getting off!
Suddenly he was struck by the awful realization that the Titanic was actually going to sink. To this point he had been more concerned about the expected wrath of Beth for his not being there to escort her to the boats than he was of any potential danger. It was in this moment of stunned paralysis that Charles Fortune came upon him.
“Mr. Willows, don’t worry. I put your family off on boat number four on the port side. Maisie is with Emma and Mrs. Willows.”
“Thank you, Charles.” Rupert quickly recovered his senses and his manners. “And your mother and sisters?”
“They are all together and are well away from Titanic, I should think. There’s my father over there.” He pointed to Mark Fortune who was helping the crew get the women settled in the boats. There was a masculine calmness about the young man as his eyes gripped Rupert. He showed nothing but a placid resignation and stalwart acceptance of his role as a gentleman. In a simple and poignant move, Charles reached out and firmly shook his hand.
“Good-luck, Mr. Willows,” he said, as he left to join his father.
Rupert had no time to feel shame in the presence of a man whom he recognized as far superior to himself. He struggled into his life belt knowing that he had to get off the ship.
A crowd had gathered around a group of seamen working to free the last of the lifeboats, the collapsible ones, from their storage. Water had filled the lower decks. Off somewhere nearby, shots were fired. Rupert jumped. He wasn’t sure if it the shots were directed in the air or to kill a would-be stowaway in a lifeboat. With his heart racing, he slipped along through the frenzied crowd and made his way starboard aft, following the path of the gamblers. Three large lifeboats were being readied for lowering amidst much shouting and confusion. With the final weak remnants of civility now destroyed by the undeniable truth that they were facing the specter of a violent and painful end to their lives, passengers were scrambling over each other to get on board the remaining lifeboats.
Rupert pulled his coat closed against the freezing air. More shots were fired. He shoved his hands into his gloves. He would get onto a boat one way or another, even if he had to leap over heads and risk being shot in the process. Death by shooting would be preferable to death by drowning or hypothermia. He glanced out at lifeboat number nine being lowered and George Bradley caught his eye with a sneering smile and a wave.
“So long, Willows! I see that last hand was a costly one for you!” he shouted.
Rupert pushed his way toward lifeboat thirteen where he recognized Dr. George Dodge hesitating near a group of women that was tumbling into the boat. Children were being grabbed up and tossed on board with little more regard than if they had been sacks of flour and with no worry for whether they had the waiting arms of mothers to receive them.
Into this erupting hysteria came Rupert, striding importantly up behind Dr. Dodge. Without a second of hesitation Rupert brought his arms forward and solidly pushed the doctor through the people in front of him and into the boat.
“Get in, Doctor!” he yelled as the two dropped over the rail of the ship and into the boat with more people clambering in behind them.
“Lower away! Lower away!” The commander yelled and signaled to the men operating the falls so as to be understood over the shrieking of the passengers and the groaning of the foundering ship.
The bow was sinking ever more quickly into the water and the slope of the deck made for difficult footing. People started falling and hurtling into walls and railings, crying out in agony, as legs and arms were broken and families were separated. With the last of the regular lifeboats now filled and being lowered, a thrashing, violent frenzy took hold of the passengers still on the deck. Their only remaining hope was the flimsy collapsible boats yet to be freed by the crewmen. Some men started throwing deck chairs into the water to be used as rafts, and then people quickly followed, dropping like dolls from the deck into the black sea, buoyed by the life belts and screaming against the shockingly cold water; others silenced instantly as their necks broke against the force of the life belts hitting the water.
Rupert braced himself as lifeboat thirteen began to lurch its way down to the sea. The lights on the ship flickered but kept burning. His heart was beating so hard he felt as if it would rip apart in his chest. He could feel the Grim Reaper looming over them, swatting at the dangling lifeboats and preparing to swallow the Titanic.
He forced his mind to seize upon the single thought that all they needed was to make it safely to the water. Just a few more moments, and they would be rowing away from the sinking vessel. He would survive.
The untested lifeboat, heavily loaded with the full capacity of sixty-five people, strained against the ropes in the shuddering davits for the endlessly long drop. Twenty feet down from the boat deck, a wild scream of desperation was heard from above. Rupert looked up to see a flailing man flying down toward them, aiming for the descending lifeboat. But the jumper had misjudged his target and to Rupert’s utter horr
or, the scream was abruptly ended when the man’s head struck the gunwale in a sickening crack, smashing open his skull. The lifeless body dropped down to the water as a bloody spray of brain tissue and bone chips splattered onto Rupert and the woman next to him. The woman stifled her scream but couldn’t stop the vomit that spewed into Rupert’s lap.
Rupert, reeling from the gruesome act and the horrid hot smell on his coat, instantly felt his own bile rising against death closing in on him. He clenched against the fear and did something he had never done before. He prayed. He prayed that the quivering metal arms of the davits would not snap before they reached the water. He prayed that he would survive. The lifeboat pitched and wrenched its way downward, in a staggering display of inadequacy. All the while, the woeful strains of the violins of the orchestra on deck played bravely in the macabre scene. The music wafted eerily into the terror, and Rupert’s prayers suddenly crystallized into one clear request. If death did come, please let it be swift.
Rupert bargained with his Maker. He offered that he would be a better person if only he could live through this. He pledged to stop putting himself in front of others. The davits throbbed and the ropes creaked. The passengers shrieked again as the falls in the stern of the lifeboat slipped, tipping the boat toward the sea, before it was caught hard by the men on deck spending out the controlling ropes. His prayers for his survival ran silently and incoherently through his mind, and as the boat splashed softly into the smooth water, it suddenly occurred to Rupert that Beth and Emma were also in peril and hastily added his request for their protection.
On settling in the sea, there was barely a moment for the occupants to breathe their relief before a greater worry needed their attention. Their lifeboat was caught in the ropes, which would not release to allow the craft to float clear of the ship. There was just enough rope to have allowed the lifeboat to get stuck directly under the rapidly descending lifeboat fifteen. A harrowing cry of warning went up from the endangered boat thirteen as the passengers raised their hands against the bottom of the upper boat. They could feel the vibrating craft in their fingertips as it abruptly slowed and paused for five heart-pounding seconds. It was enough. With not a moment to spare, a crewman worked his knife through the ropes on thirteen, cutting the lifeboat free to slide out safely away from the one above.
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