James Witter's Letter to Walter Lord

It was a beautiful, clear but very cold evening, the sea was like a sheet of glass, while I, Duty Smoke Room Steward, was clearing up the 2nd class smoke room, (11.40) ready for closing at midnight. All was very quiet, the orchestra on that evening was playing the 1st Class Room. There were about 40 people in the room, many of them just talking, but there were about three tables of passengers playing cards. This was very unusual as it had been the rule of the White Star Line that there should be no card playing on Sundays, and that the smoke room should be closed at 11 o'clock. On that particular Sunday I had been instructed by the Chief Steward to allow them to play cards and to close the Smoke Room at midnight.

Then suddenly there was a jar. The ship shuddered slightly and then everything seemed normal. My first impressions were that we had shipped a heavy sea, but, knowing the condition of the weather at that time, I immediately dismissed the idea. 

Several of the passengers enquired of me the cause of the jar, and I explained that it may be due to the fact that she had dropped a blade (I had a similar experience in my previous ship). To enlighten them, I said I would go below and find out the real cause of the trouble.

I went below and returned some fifteen to twenty minutes later and informed the passengers that we hit an iceberg. At that time, there were still two groups of passengers playing cards, but on hearing my explanation, they immediately got up and left the Smoke Room without any sign of panic whatsoever. After they had all departed, I locked up the Smoke Room and no one returned to it.

I then proceeded to my quarters, encountering several groups of people talking in the working alleyway, discussing the accident. As l was about to turn in to my cabin, I met the carpenter, Mr. Hutchinson, who remarked, "The bloody mail room is full." I, knowing where the mail room was situated (nearly f'ward), decided it was time to do something. Before I could proceed any further, I encountered Steward Moss, who was going around the Glory Holes calling out the staff. He remarked, "It's serious Jim."

Eventually, I got to my cabin, where there were about thirty-two men turned in, in their bunks. I told them all to get out as the situation was serious, but they all ridiculed me. Not taking any more notice of them, I opened my trunk and filled my pockets with cigarettes, and also taking the cowl from my first child, which I always carried with me. As I left, the men were beginning to scramble out of their bunks. I saw none of them again.

On my way to the upper deck I met the 2nd [Class] Purser, who told me to clear the cabins of passengers and ensure that they all had lifebelts. This I did, then carried on to the upper deck and stood by No. 11 boat where I assisted the women and children to get on board. As the boat was about to be lowered, a hysterical woman tried to clamber in to the boat, so I stood on the guard rail to assist her in. As she half fell in to the boat, I went in with her. The boat was then being lowered.

We were instructed to lay off, but not to pull away. The boat was very full with 50 women, 9 babes in arms, 4 male passengers, and the rest crew – a total of 71 persons. As we could be of no more assistance, and thought it unnecessary to sacrifice 71 more lives, we did pull a short way from the ship.

The boat was hushed except for the occasional whimper of one of the babes in arms. There was really very little sign that the people were witnessing one of the greatest tragedies of the sea.

It was about two o'clock in the morning when the Titanic finally sank. There were two terrific explosions and several loud screams as she went down bow first. As she sank, the lights gradually faded as if someone was slowly turning off the current. There was a deathly silence in the boat, and even then no one realized the great loss of life. We pulled away in silence.

The morale of the people in the boat was excellent at all times, and was greatly assisted by the endeavours of a Mrs. Brown, 1 who sang and joked with everyone. She carried with her a little toy pig which played a lite melody when its tail was turned. This amused the passengers immensely.

We pulled around hopefully when, with a great feeling of elation, we sighted a ship at about six o clock. At first we all thought that it was the Olympic, but when she finally closed on us, we distinguished her as the Carpathia. With thanks to God, we boarded her. We were saved.

Curator's note: This transcription is an excerpt from the full letter that is preserved in the archive of the collections of the National Maritime Museum in Greenwich. This transcription has been lightly edited for readability. Line breaks, punctuation, grammar, and capitalization have been adjusted to conform to modern conventions. These changes have been made solely to enhance clarity, and the original intent, tone, and content of the letter have been carefully preserved.