Story of the Titanic Wreck
Related by Wilfrid D. Seward, Who Is In Yonkers; He Had Charge of a Lifeboat.
THE DISCIPLINE WAS SPLENDID
He Declares – First Care of the Officers and Crew Was For the Women and Children – Scene on Board the Ship When the End Came.
Although manifestly still suffering from the shock of the scenes he had visited, Wilfrid D. Seward, of Liverpool, Eng., who held the position of chief second-class pantryman aboard the ill-fated steamship Titanic was able to tell a Statesman reporter, this morning, a thrilling story of the rescue of some of the passengers. Mr. Seward was in command of lifeboat 3, and in that boat were 48 persons – including passengers and sailors, and 5 children. This boat, in common with the otherse, remained in the vicinity of the wreck, and was the fifth to be picked up by the Carpathia.
Mr. Seward is visiting Mr. and Mrs. James J. Fee, and he was interviewed by the reporter at Mr. Fee's home, 132 North Broadway. It had been feared that Mr. Seward was among the lost and his appearance at Mr. Fee's home, late last night was a joyful surprise.
"Most of us," said Seward – speaking of the stewards and the crew – "with the exception of those who were on watch, went to bed as usual at 11 o'clock. At about 11:40 I was awakened by a slight shock. I took little notice of it, but at 12 we were all summoned to the deck, to man the lifeboats. There was no confusion, and as each of us was assigned we took our places in a boat. The work of placing the women and children in the boats was then begun. As each boat was filled, it was lowered by the davits into the sea, and the sailors were ordered to row a short distance away.
"As we members of the crew were mustered on the deck, the chief officer talked to us and told us to remember that we were Britons; that our first duty was to save the women and children, and to think of ourselves last. The men answered, "Ay, ay, sir." The discipline was splendid; every one obeyed orders.
"Some of the passengers seemed to object to entering the boats, apparently being misled, by the steadiness of the ship, in the belief that there was little danger. Later they thought they would be allowed to re-embark in a short time. Most of the women were lightly clad, with Rimonas thrown over their night-dresses. Despite the intense cold there was little complaining, and the women at first seemed to accept the situation calmly. The sea was calm, and it was a splendid starlit night. The lights of the ship were kept burning until just before the vessel seemed to break in two, and then she sank.
"As we left the ship I could see many of the men passengers walking about the decks smoking, and apparently little concerned about its safety. I could hear the band playing. It was rumored that the Olympic was near at hand, and would take off every one in safety. I noticed Mr. Ismay on the ship, and he was busy taking care of women and children and placing them in boats. Just before the ship sank he leaped into one of the collapsible boats, which was the last to leave.
"The lifeboats stayed around until about half past 2 when the ship went down. I noticed, soon after we had left, that the vessel was listing more and more. Just before the final catastrophe the cries of those in board became so terrible that we rowed a greater distance away, but kept still within sight of her. At the end, the forward part of the ship seemed to break off, and the stern of the vessel reared in the air, throwing into the water the hundreds of passengers who had gathered on the poop-deck. The stern then sank and disappeared from sight. There was little or no suction. In my boat we managed to pull in three or four men, but they all died in a few minutes. We took their bodies aboard the Carpathia. I saw the Captain struggling in the water, and we offered to take him aboard, but he refused, and told us to take care of ourselves.
"An an illustration of the spirit which was exhibited by the crew, I saw two stokers swimming in the sea. They tried to lift themselves into one of the boats. The man in command told them that by so doing they would endanger the lives of the women and children aboard, and they relinquished their hold. Then, saying 'Good-by, and good luck to you,' they sank.
"We rowed around until half-past 4, when we saw the Carpathia coming, and then we all rowed to meet her. It was half-past 6 before the people in my boat were taken aboard, and we were the fifth in line. In all I think there were 17 boats, but three or four of them were capsized by the floating ice, and their passengers and crew were taken aboard other small boats. As far as we could see, there was nothing but icebergs – some of them seemingly as high as the Flat-Iron Building in New York City. We got too near one of these bergs, and lost three of our oars."
Mr. Seward spoke in the highest terms of the kindness and care given them after they had been rescued by the Carpathia. Clothing was distributed, and everything was done to make the survivors as comfortable as possible, although, naturally, the addition of 700 people to a vessel which already had a good complement of passengers strained the accommodations of the ship to the utmost. He denied that there were any wild scenes aboard the Carpathia, and said that all bore themselves with calmness, although most of them were suffering from the shock of the catastrophe. Three or four who had fallen into the sea suffered considerably, but before the Carpathia reached New York, the great majority had recovered from the physical effects of exposure to the weather.
In answer to questions, Mr. Seward said he had heard one or two boiler explosions, but he believed that in most cases the fires under the boilers had been drawn as soon as the extent of the accident was known. "It was evident," said he, "that the donkey engines were kept going for the ships lights were shown until almost the very last. The noise of explosions probably came from the boilers of these engines."
Speaking of the voyage up to the time of the accident, he said that the weather had been very fine, and that the vessel had behaved splendidly. Every one seemed in good spirits.
Mr. Seward had held a position aboard the Olympic, and had been transferred with many of the crew to the Titanic. He had sailed with Captain Smith for several years, and was on the Olympic at the time the British warship Hawk[e] had rammed its stern. Although only 25 years of age, he has been in the service of the White Star Line for 12 years, and had served aboard the Adriatic and Oceanic.
He has a brother, William, at Pullman, Illinois, and as soon as he reached Yonkers, last night, he sent a telegram to him, notifying him of his safety. This morning he cabled his aged mother in Liverpool. His plans for the future are not yet settled, but he will report at the office of the White Star Line, in New York.
We would like to thank Wolfric Rogers for contributing this article to the Archive. If you would like to contribute a primary source to Titanic Archive, please contact us.
Source Reference
Title
Story of the Titanic Wreck
Survivor
Wilfred Deable SewardDate
April 19, 1912
Newspaper
Yonkers Statesman
Copyright Status
Public DomainThis is item can be used freely as part of Titanic Archive’s Open Access policy.