Narratives of the remarkable heroism of Colonel John Jacob Astor and the patient fortitude of Mrs. Astor under conditions that tried the self-control of the hardiest, continue to come to light.

  The narrative of the dreadful suspense which in a short time changed her from a radiant bride to a sorrowing widow was told by a friend of the family.

  At the same time survivors who occupied lifeboat No. 4, in which Mrs. Astor and her maid escaped, told of how Mrs. Astor had helped calm the other women and had even offered fellow sufferers portions of her slender stock of clothing.

  "Mrs. Astor was the bravest little woman I ever met," said Jack Foley, who, with his mate, Sam Parks, pulled an oar in boat No. 4.

  "Colonel Astor was a man all through, if there ever was one," continued Foley. "You see, it took us some time to launch boat No. 4. After we had all the women and the children in the boat we discovered that we couldn't launch her until we removed the sounding spar several decks below.

  "So Sam and I got down and chopped the spar away. We were some time doing this, as we had to hunt for an ax.

  "We finally got the spar away and launched the boat. That is why boat No. 4 was the last boat to be launched. The others had a free way below it and could be put in the Water at once.

  "While waiting up there Mrs. Astor several times wanted to leave the boat. Mr. Astor kept telling the good little woman that he was sure to be saved and that it was her duty to go.

  "She stretched out her arms just as though she was pleading with him to let her get out of the boat and take her place with him. Mr. Astor picked up a heavy steamer shawl and wrapped it about her shoulders.

  "After pulling those eight men into the boat I was pretty wet and was shivering, Mrs. Astor threw the shawl about my shoulders and said that I needed it more than she did. I told her that I would get warmed up after pulling a while at the oar and would have no use for it.

WHIMPERING WITH COLD.

  "I put the shawl back on her lap. Sitting next to Mrs. Astor was a Swedish woman with a little girl that I should take to be three or four years old. The little girl was whimpering with the cold.

  "Mrs. Astor took the shawl and threw it about the shoulders of this woman, who thanked her in some foreign lingo. Then the steerage woman kissed her little girl and took her into her arms and wrapped the shawl about her.

  "When the explosion occurred aboard the ship Mrs. Astor made some kind of a sound, but I couldn't understand whether she said anything or merely sobbed. She turned her head away, from the direction of the vessel."

  So little was the impact felt at the time of the collision that Mrs. Astor thought the crash was the result of some mishap in the kitchen and paid no attention to it until the engines stopped.

  Then, realizing that something was wrong, she inquired of her steward the cause. He informed her that a slight accident had happened, and that the captain had ordered the women to the lifeboats, but he added that this was only a precautionary measure, and that they would all be back soon again on the ship.

  Mrs. Astor then entered her stateroom and changed her dress, preparatory to leaving the Titanic for one of the lifeboats in company with her maid.

  As she left the room the steward told her he would lock up her suite so that nobody would enter it during her absence, for he thought everybody would soon return.

  Colonel Astor accompanied his wife and her maid to lifeboat No. 4. When he attempted to enter it, he was pushed back by the sailor in charge, and was told that no men were permitted in it.

  "But," said Colonel Astor, "there are no more women to be taken in, and there is plenty of room."

  "That makes no difference," replied the man; "the orders are no men, so you cannot get in."

  There was no use arguing, Colonel and Mrs. Astor thought, so, waving her adieu, he called out: "Good-bye, Madeleine."

TITANIC GOING DOWN TO HER DOOM.

  Lifeboat No. 4 did not go far before she returned to the place which soon after became the Titanic's grave. The great "unsinkable" ship was already going fast to her doom, and fear that the suction from the sinking vessel would draw down the little lifeboat made its sailors once more turn away from the wreck and seek safety, with its handful of women and its empty seats.

  When the Carpathia hove in sight two sailors in lifeboat No. 4 were dead. The watch of one, which a woman looked at, had stopped at 2.15 o'clock.

  In the roster of the Titanic's heroes the name of Robbins should appear. He was Colonel Astor's old butler, and, like the Colonel's valet, always traveled with him. He is numbered among the Titanic's dead.

  Faithful unto death was Kitty, Colonel Astor's Airedale terrier and constant companion. On land or sea, Kitty was never far from her master's heels, and the two were familiar figures on 5th avenue.

  When the crash came Robbins went below and brought Kitty up on deck. There, the most faithful of friends, she stood beside her master while the sea embraced them, and she now shares his grave.

  Reports that a number of men — probably steerage passengers — on the Titanic who tried to rush the lifeboats and preempt the places of women and children were unceremoniously shot were confirmed by Jack Williams and William French, able seamen, survivors of the Titanic's crew.

THE FIRST STAMPEDE.

  "When the first of the 56- foot lifeboats were being filled," explained Williams, "the first stampede of panic-stricken men occurred. Within a dozen feet of where I stood I saw fully, ten men throw themselves into the boats already crowded with women and children.

  "These men were dragged back and hurled sprawling across the deck. Six of them, screaming with fear, struggled to their feet and made a second attempt to rush the boats.

  "About ten shots sounded in quick succession. The six cowardly men were stopped in their tracks, staggered and collapsed one after another. At least two of them vainly attempted to creep toward the boats again. The others lay quite still. This scene of bloodshed served its purpose. In that particular section of the deck there was no further attempt to violate the 'women and children first' rule."

  "Were any of these men from the first or second cabins?" Williams was asked.

  Williams, a medium-sized, stockily-built, blond-haired man of thirty-six passed the query on to his sailor chum French, who replied:

  "It was hard to tell. All of them were so scantily dressed. In the semi- darkness and prevailing excitement faces left no distinct impression with me. I should say that most, if not all of them, were from the steerage.

  "Other men passengers who in a general way resemble these same men were among a score or so who jumped from the upper decks into the boats occupied by women and children after the order had been given to lower boats. These men were not shot. They were tossed by the officers and crew of the boat into the sea, where most of them perished, as they deserved to.

  "The report that First Officer Murdock and not Captain Smith, shot himself on the bridge just as the forward section of the Titanic sank is true. I still have before me the picture of Mr. Murdock standing on the bridge as the waters surged up about him, placing the pistol to his head and disappearing as the shot that ended his life rang out."

EMERGENCY BOATS MADE READY.

  "French and I," said Williams, "stood by as the two emergency boats — those that are always kept ready for rescue purposes at sea — were made ready. These boats were only twenty-six feet long, while the regular lifeboats are about fifty-six feet in length.

  "It was in the first of these emergency boats that Mr. Ismay put off. This boat and emergency boat No. 2 were launched with first class passengers less than a half hour after the collision.

  "A lot had been printed in the papers about the heroism of the officers, but little has been said of the bravery of the men below the decks. I was told that seventeen enginemen who were drowned side by side got down on their knees on the platform of the engine room and prayed until the water surged up to their necks.

  "Then they stood up clasped hands so as to form a circle and died together. All of these men helped rake the fires out from ten of the forward boilers after the crash. This delayed the explosion and undoubtedly permitted the ship to remain afloat nearly an hour longer, and thus saved hundreds of lives."

  Mrs. John C. Hogeboom, her sister, Miss Cornelia T. Andrews, and their niece, Miss Gretchen F. Longley, of Hudson, N.Y., were at the home of Mrs. Arthur E. Flack, in East Orange, N.J., where Miss Andrews told how she and her aunts waited for the fourth lifeboat because there was not room for the three of them in the first three boats launched.

  "And when we finally did get into a boat," continued Miss Andrews, "we found that our miserable men companions could not row and had only said they could because they wanted to save themselves. Finally I had to take an oar with one of the able seamen in the boat.

  "Alongside of us was a sailor, who lighted a cigarette and flung the match carelessly among us women. Several women in the boat screamed, fearing they would be set on fire. The sailor replied: 'We are going to hell anyway and we might as well be cremated now as them.'"

  At this point Mrs. Hogeboom interrupted and said:

BETTER PUT ON LIFE PRESERVERS.

  "A little after 12 we heard commotion in the corridor and we made more inquiries, and they told us we had better put on life preservers. We had only five minutes to get ready. We put our fur coats right on over our night dresses and rushed on deck.

  "One lifeboat was already full, but there was no panic. The discipline in a way was good. No one hurried and no one crowded. We waited for the fourth boat and were slowly lowered seventy-five feet to the water. The men made no effort to get into the boat. As we pulled away we saw them all standing in an unbroken line on the deck.

  "There they stood — Major Butt, Colonel Astor waving a farewell to his wife; Mr. Thayer, Mr. Case, Mr. Clarence Moore, Mr. Widener, all multi-millionaires, and hundreds of other men bravely smiling at us all. Never have I seen such chivalry and fortitude. Such courage in the face of fate horrible to contemplate filled us even then with wonder and admiration.

  "Before our boat was lowered they called to some miserable specimens of humanity and said: 'Can you row?' and for the purpose of getting in they answered 'Yes.' But upon pulling out we found we had a Chinese and an American, neither of whom knew how to row. So there we were in mid-ocean with one able-bodied seaman.

  "Then my niece took one oar and assisted the seaman and some of the other women rowed on the other side. We then pulled out about a mile as we feared the suction should the ship do down.

  "Scarcely any of the lifeboats were properly manned. Two, filled with women and children, capsized before our eyes. The collapsible boats were only temporarily useful. They soon partially filled with water. In one boat eighteen or twenty persons sat in water above their knees for six hours.

EIGHT MEN THROWN OVERBOARD.

  "Eight men in this boat were overcome, died and were thrown overboard. Two women were in this boat. One succumbed after a few hours and one was saved.

  "The accident was entirely the result of carelessness and lack of necessary equipment. There were boats for only one-third of the passengers — there were no searchlights — the lifeboats were not supplied with food or safety appliances — there were no lanterns on the lifeboats — there was no way to raise sails, as we had no one who understood managing a sailboat."

  Mrs. Hogeboom explained that the new equipment of masts and sails in the boats was carefully wrapped and bound with twine. The men undertook to unfasten them, but found it necessary to cut the ropes. They had no knives, and in their frenzy they went about asking the ill-clad women if they had knives. The sails were never hoisted.

  According to Richard Norris Williams, Jr., his father, C. Duane Williams, was killed, not drowned, in the Titanic wreck.

  The son, who, with his father, was on his way to visit Richard Norris Williams, his uncle, 8124 St. Martin's lane, Chestnut Hill, Pa., says his father was crushed to death by a falling funnel.

  His account of the tragedy was given through Mrs. Alexander Williams, daughter- in-law of Richard Norris Williams.

  "Richard told us," she said, "that he and his father had been watching the Titanic's lifeboats lowered and filled with women. The water was up to their waists and the ship was about at her last.

  "Suddenly one of the great funnels fell. Richard sprang aside, trying to drag his father after him. But Mr. Williams was caught under the funnel. A moment later the funnel was swept overboard, and the decks were cleared of water. Mr. Williams, the father, had disappeared.

SWAM THROUGH THE ICE.

  "Richard sprang overboard and swam through the ice to a life raft. He was pulled aboard. There were five other men there and one woman. Occasionally they were swept off into the sea, even the woman, but they always managed to climb back. Finally those on the raft were picked up by a Titanic lifeboat, and later were saved by the Carpathia."

  Young Mr. Williams said he didn't see Bruce Ismay, managing director of the White Star Line, after the iceberg was struck. He didn't know the Wideners or other Philadelphians aboard when he saw them.

  Young Mr. Williams and his father were on their way here from Geneva, Switzerland. The young man was met at the pier in New York where the Carpathia docked by G. Heide Norris, a cousin. Together they went to the Waldorf- Astoria, where they remained for a few days.

  The Rev. P.M.A. Hoque, a Catholic priest of St. Cesaire, Canada, who was a passenger on the Carpathia, told of finding the boats containing the survivors. He said:

  "Every woman and child, as if by instinct, put the loops around their bodies and drew them taut. Some of the women c1imbed the ladders. To others chairs were lowered and in these they were lifted aboard.

  "Not a word was spoken by any one of the rescued or the rescuers. Everybody was too be-numbed by horror to speak. It was a time for action and not words.

  "Not a tear dimmed the eyes of one of the hundreds we got on deck. The women were less excited than the men. Apparently they all had drained their tear ducts dry, for every eye was red and swollen."

  One of the most interesting accounts of the Titanic disaster which has come to light is in a letter written on board the Carpathia by Dr. Alice Leeder, of New York, one of the survivors, after she had been transferred to the Carpathia in a lifeboat.

  The letter is a personal communication addressed to Mrs. Sarah Babcock, 2033 Walnut st., Philadelphia. By the wavering of the handwriting one can readily realize the state of mind in which it was written.

DR. LEEDER'S LETTER.

  In the letter Dr. Leeder said there was no panic on board the Titanic, and that everyone who had to meet death met it with composure. She speaks of the generosity and kindness shown by the crew and passengers of the Carpathia in their treatment of the survivors. Following is the letter:

"Royal Mail Steamship Carpathia,
Wednesday, April 16.

My Dear Mrs. Babcock:

  "We have been through a most terrible experience — the Titanic and above a thousand souls sunk on Monday about 3 o'clock in the morning. Margaret and I are safe, although we have lost everything. One of our party, also, Mr. Kenyon, was lost. He was such a charming man — so honorable and good.

  "I sat talking to him a little before the accident — and a little later he was dead. His wife is crushed by the blow. I can say one thing, nothing could part me from my husband in time of danger.

  "After floating about for four hours we were taken on board the steamer that was bound for Naples — but she is now taking us New York.

  "It is terrible to see the people who have lost their families and friends- one lady has lost $15,000 worth of clothing, and no one has saved anything. Many of the passengers have only their night clothes with coats over them.

  "I shall never forget the sight of that beautiful boat as she went down, the orchestra playing to the last, the lights burning until they were extinguished by the waves. It sounds so unreal, like a scene on the stage. We were hit by an iceberg.

  "We were in the midst of a field of ice; towers of ice; fantastic shapes of ice! It is all photographed on my mind. There was no panic. Everyone met death with composure — as one said the passengers were a set of thoroughbreds.

  "We are moving slowly toward New York. Everyone on this boat is so kind to us. Clothing and all the necessaries are at our convenience. I am attired in my old blue serge, a steamer hat; truth to tell, I am a sorry looking object to land in New York.

  "This is rather a mixed up epistle, but please pardon lack of clearness of expression. If you want me, some time I will come to Philadelphia for a day or two in the future.

"With dear love,        
"ALICE J. LEEDER."  

  Two handsome little boys, tiny waifs of the sea, are one of the mysteries of the Titanic disaster. These small boys were rescued as the big liner was foundering. Miss Hays, who has them in charge, said:

  "These two beautiful children speak French fluently, and they know what their first names are, but they do not know their last names. They are 'Louis,' four and a half years old, I should say, and 'Lump,' a year younger.

  "They were rescued from the Titanic and brought to the Carpathia where I was taken in another boat. Nobody knows who they are. There was but one man in the second class cabin who had two children with him, and that was a Mr. Hoffmann, but no one knows any more about him than that. Whether these are his children or not, we do not know.

  "We in the first cabin used to see them and greatly admired them for their beauty and sweet ways.

  "When they were brought on board the Carpathia there were no New York people except myself, who had not lost friends, was the only one in a position to befriend them, and I went to the committee of passengers we had on board and offered to take them to my home.

  "They gladly gave them to me because it meant that otherwise some society would grab them and they might be separated and never reunited.

  "I think that the boys are French, but perhaps Swiss French or Alsatian. I have tried them in Italian, German and English, but they cannot understand. Louis, the oldest, is brown eyed, with curly brown hair, very regular teeth and has no scar or mark on his body that would identify him. Both are well bred. The little fellow is just like his brother, but a year younger. Both have very long, curling lashes.

  "When they got up this morning they asked first thing for a bath, and at breakfast placed their napkins under their chins themselves. Louis came aboard wrapped in a blanket that sailor had given him. The other boy had a little blue coat with white collar. Louis's French is not a patois and he has a very large vocabulary. I shall keep them till they are identified and make every effort to find out who they are. Any one who can help me will win my thanks and the thanks doubtless of some poor, stricken relatives. It seems almost impossible that these boys can fail to be identified in this day and generation."