The Titanic’s first class passenger list boasted an impressive number of U. S. and European celebrities: the Astors, Benjamin Guggenheim, Charles Hayes, Jacques Futrelle, Isador Strauss, and Bruce Ismay, the owner of White Star Shipping Line. Of the above, o9nly me and Bruce Ismay survived.
That evening, the ship’s Captain and crew had received numerous warning of ice in the area. The ship even received a radio transmission that a nearby ship was stopped and completely surrounded by ice. Still, for reasons that would be celebrated for years, the Titanic charged ahead at nearly its top speed of 22.5 knots. By the time the lookout saw the iceberg it was too late to change course. Shortly before midnight on April 14th the Titanic struck ice.
I had retired to me stateroom early that evening, anxious to finish a book. I stretched on the brass bed, at the side of which was a lamp. So completely absorbed in my reading I gave little thought to the crash that struck at my window overhead and threw me to the floor. Picking myself up I proceeded to see what the steamer had struck. On emerging from my stateroom, I found many men in the gangway in their nightwear. All seemed to be quietly listening, thinking nothing serious had occurred, although realizing at the time that the engines had stopped immediately after the crash and that the boat was at a standstill.
The crew did not immediately realize the extent of the damage. However, like me, they suspected that something was wrong because the engines had shut down.
After the crash, I returned to my stateroom and heard increasing confusion in the hall causing me to investigate further. I again looked out and saw a man whose face was blanched, his eyes protruding, wearing the look of a haunted creature. He was gasping for breath and in an undertone he gasped, ‘get your life saver.’
I, as I travelled seasonally, never feared for my personal safety. I thought to myself ‘If the worst should happen, I could swim out.’ I was never able to prove my swimming ability. After I helped fellow passengers into a lifeboat, I headed to see what was being done with the lifeboats on the other side of the ship. I still believed the comments made by my friend Jacob Astor that the ship was unsinkable. Suddenly, I was taken a hold of and with the words “you are going too” I was dropped four feet into the lowering lifeboat #6.
Lifeboat #6 was equipped to hold 65 passengers. However, it pushed off from the Titanic with 21 women, 2 men and a twelve-year-old boy on board. As the lifeboat was being lowered, I noticed with horror a gush of water spouting from an opening in the side of the ship. The last orders given to the group by Captain Smith were “row to the light and keep the boats together.” As the lifeboat moved away from the sinking Titanic they realized there was no light.
I slid the heavy wooden oar into place with the help of another woman, and we both assisted in rowing the lifeboat safely away from the Titanic. As we pulled away from the boat, we heard sounds of firing, and later were told it was officers shooting as they were letting down the boats from the steamer trying to prevent those from the lower decks jumping on the lifeboats. Others said that it was the boilers which were then reported to be correct.
I could still hear sounds of dogs barking and children crying. I had to believe that they too were being loaded onto lifeboats. Finally, the cries ceased and a great rumbling sound was heard as the boilers exploded and all the contents of the ship slid to one side. Suddenly, there was a rift in the water, the sea opened up and the surface, foamed like giant arms spread around the ship and the vessel disappeared from sight. At 2:30 a. m. April 15th the Titanic SANK. Of the approximately 2, 300 on board 1, 600 were lost.
The occupants of my lifeboat stood in silent shock in the middle or our lifeboat. We demanded to go back and help the people struggling in the water, but Quartermaster Hutchens ordered that it was their lives now that were in danger, and that the drowning victims would capsize the small life boat in their efforts to be saved. Reluctantly, the women in my lifeboat went back to their oars sobbing at the sounds of death surrounding us.
We continued to row for four more hours’ occasionally seeing flares sent up by the other lifeboats. At 4:30 a. m. I saw a flash of light. It was from the approaching ship Carpathia that, although not the nearest ship to the Titanic, was the first to answer the distress call. After some difficulty, lifeboat #6, which I was in, pulled up along side of the Carpathia, and the occupants in the boat with me were pulled aboard one at a time. On deck we were given hot coffee stimulants as they achingly scanned the deck for familiar faces.
I, though sore, tired and cold, began to take action. My knowledge of foreign language enabled me to console survivors who spoke little English. I also rifled through the ship to find extra blankets and supplies to distribute to women who were sleeping in the dining room and corridors. I compiled lists of survivors and arranged for information to be radioed to their families at my expense. I realized that these women had lost everything-husbands, children, clothes, money and valuables-and needed to start a life in a new country. I rallied the first class passengers to donate money to help less fortunate passengers. Before the Carpathia reached New York $10 000 had been raised.
The Carpathia docked at New York’s pier 54 where it was met by a crowd of 30, 000 people. I was surrounded by reporters and was asked to what I attributed my survival. I replied “Typical Brown luck,” “We’re unsinkable.”
Upon hearing that my grandson had recovered, I decided to stay in New York. I continued the work begun on the ship and became president of the survivors committee. The Titanic disaster made me a national heroine. By the time I arrived back in Denver, the media were clamouring to interview the “Unsinkable Mrs. Brown.”
Hannah Broughton.
