Democratic messenger. [volume] (Snow Hill, Md.) 1869-1973, 1912-04-27
WORCESTER man
SEES RESCUED
Passengers Of the Titanic Seen
By Harry Porter as They
Land In New York

The following letter to The Messenger
from Mr.. Harry =. Porter, describing
the landing Of the survivors Of the
steamer Titanic by the rescue ship
Carpathia, should be interesting to our
readers. Mr.. Porter was an eyewitness
Of the arrival and docking of the Carpa-
/ thia in New York harbor, and saw many
Of the survivors brought ashore. Mr..
Porter is the son of Mr. George w. Por-
ter. of Klej Grange. He is at present
taking course Of study at Columbia
University, New York City.
"On April 18th. at 800 o'clock, with
flag at half-mast. amid flashes Of light
ming and peals of thundera fit accom-
paniment for such an event the Rescue
Ship, Carpathia spectre-like moved slow
ly up to Pier 81 bearing the few survi-
vors of the great Titanic along with
the corpses of those who had either died
of grief or exposure, amid the COM
mands of officers and the ringing Of
bells could be heard the sobs of widows
and orphans, friends and sweethearts.
Eager eyes from the pier looked earn
estly for the faces of loved ones; aching
hearts awaited first-hand news of the
foundered ship that carried down its
cargo Of human freight
Never before in the history Of naviga-
ton has such a messenger of evil tidings
entered New York harbor.
In front of the pier. at the foot of
Fourteenth Street. 90, 900 men and wo-
men awaited anxiously for the docking
of the Ocean Liner; 1000 drivers and
chaifeurs stood ready for assistance:
500 policemen controlled the excited
crowds.
In few minutes the gang plank was
laid and rush was made for the ship.
The sight was the most pathetic that
ever met the gaze of man. Here one
touch of sympathy had made the whole
world akin. Some lay sick in the wards
Of the ship, some were dead as result
of exposure. some were insane from the
horrors of that fatal night. Now and
then. as mother and child were in low
ing embrace. cry Of mingled JOY and
sorrow could be heard above the noise
and tumult. Some of the survivors.
supported by friends. walked from the
ship unconscious of what it all meant
the expressionless eyes showed that the
mind had taken its flight. the awful an
guish of that frightful hour had bereft
them of all reason.
As | stood there my mind went back
to that night of April 18th. when the
huge Titanic went bounding through
the ice-fields of the mighty deep. That
night all was gay and festive. Some sat
at card tables. others danced rhythmi-
cally to the strains of sweet music with
no thought Of spending the morrow in
the great Beyond That was a beauti-
full starlit night. hardly a ripple disturbed
the oceans calm repose, hardly wrinkle
furrowed its mighty brow. Within the
giant monster Of the sea lay calmly and
peacefully mothers. wives and sweet
hearts dreaming Of dear ones in distant
lands. when suddenly a great shock is
felt and soon the voice of the captain is
heard shouting that great command of
the sea, women and children first +"
a command never disobeyed by the An
glo-Saxon race.
The world affords no better example
of heroism than the valiant men of the
Titanic showed Oh that fateful night
Such heroism was not amid the excite
ment of battle, but in the face of certain
death. it was in calm deliberation with
a possible chance for life at the expense
of the life of woman or child. If the
heroes of the battlefield merit monu-
ment to their memory, none the less do
those men who chose watery grave
rather than TO live by taking the place
of woman or child.
In Imagination can see the boats put
OIL while the great shin is slowly sink
ing with sixteen hundred souls catching
"A glimpse Of Eternity. The lights are
still burning. the band is still playing,
but no longer the gay and festive music,
but the sweet. solemn strains Of Nearer
Nv God 10 Thee. These sweet strains
Of music are waited across the waters
TO loved ones moving slowly away. On
the deck of the doomed ship. ! can see
men who never knelt in prayer since
they lisped prayer at mothers knee.
can see them with outstretched arms
appealing to Him Who holds the mighty
ocean in the hollow of His hand. Never
again the hand-clasp nor the fond en-
brace, not until the sea shall give up its
dead and the wide armament is rolled
up like scroll.
A tear for the sixteen hundred who
sleep beneath the waves. prayer for
sixteen thousand of sad and sorrowing
friends
AS stood gazing at the noble ship
that came to the rescue. and as looked