Facebook Twitter Pinterest Youtube Instagram Give

Header-Heroine of the Titanic

 

 

On April 14, 1912, at 11:40 p.m. the Titanic, the ocean liner that supposedly “God Himself could not sink,” struck a towering iceberg in the Northern Atlantic. In less than three hours, the 46,328-ton ship sank beneath the waves to settle on the ocean floor.

 

Countess of Rothes

Noëlle, Countess of Rothes, was a passenger coming to the United States to join her husband, the 19th Earl of Rothes, who was purchasing an orange grove in California.

Ordered together with other ladies to enter lifeboat no. 8, the Countess’ leadership qualities quickly showed, so that once on the water, Able Seaman Thomas William Jones asked her to take over the tiller and steer the small boat on that dark, frozen night.

The Sphere quoted Seaman Jones as saying, “When I saw the way she was carrying herself and heard the quiet determined way she spoke to the others, I knew she was more of a man than any we had on board.”

Lady Rothes steered for about an hour, then handed this post over to her husband’s cousin, Miss Gladys Cherry, and took up a rowing spot next to Doña Maria Josefa Perez de Soto y Vallejo Peñasco y Castellana, to comfort the 22-year old woman who had just become a widow, as her husband, Don Víctor, drowned in the shipwreck.

She rowed until the next morning when they were rescued by the RMS Carpathia. All through the terrible night she calmed and encouraged the other passengers. Then, aboard the Carpathia, she continued to sacrifice herself, taking no rest, but helping and consoling the other survivors. An account in the London Daily Sketch stated, “Her Ladyship helped to make clothes for the babies and became known amongst the crew as the ‘plucky little countess.'”

Caught up in the Titanic tragedy, the Countess did what all nobles are called to do: Lead, and sacrifice oneself for the common good.

 

Upon arriving in New York, she gave the interview below to the New York Herald, and it was published on April 21, 1912:

Countess of Rothes“The pitiful sadness of our rowing, rowing toward the lights of a ship that disappeared. We in boat No. 8 saw some tramp steamer’s mast head lights, and then we saw the glow of red as she swung toward us for a few minutes. Then darkness and despair.” Lady Rothes yesterday, at the Ritz Carlton, told of her experience on board the Titanic.

“I went to bed at half-past seven,” she said, “and my cousin, Miss Gladys Cherry, who shared my room—No. 77 on deck B–also retired. It was bitterly cold. I was awakened by a slight jar and then a grating noise. I turned on the light and saw that it was 11:46, and I wondered at the sudden quiet. Gladys had not been awakened and I called her and asked did she not think it strange that the engines had stopped.

As I opened our cabin door I saw a steward. He said we had struck some ice. Our fur coats over our night gowns were all the clothes we had. My cousin asked the chief steward if there was any danger and he answered, ‘Oh no, we have just grazed some ice and it does not amount to anything.’

 

The Call for Lifebelts

“As we hurried along Lambert Williams came up and explained that the water-tight compartments must surely hold. Just then an officer hurried by. “‘Will you all get your lifebelts on! Dress warmly and come up to A deck!’ Quite stunned by the order, we all went. As I was going in to our stateroom my maid said water was pouring into the racquet court. I gave her some brandy, tied on her lifebelt and told her to go straight up on deck. We had to ask a steward where our lifebelts could be found. The man said he was sure they were unnecessary until we told him we had been ordered to do so. “We dressed as warmly as we could and went up to A deck.

Mr. Brown, the purser, touched his hat as we passed, saying:—‘It is quite all right; don’t hurry!’ What a lovely night it was! I stood close to Mrs. Astor. She was waiting under the starboard ports of the library and her husband got a chair for her. She was quite calm. The last I saw of Colonel Astor was when he still stood by his wife, trying to comfort her. “Captain Smith stood shoulder to shoulder with me as I got into the life boat, and the last words were to the able seaman–Tom Jones–‘Row straight for those ship lights over there; leave your passengers on board of her and return as soon as you can.’ Captain Smith’s whole attitude was one of great calmness and courage, and I am sure he thought that the ship–whose lights we could plainly see–would pick us up and that our life boats would be able to do double duty in ferrying passengers to the help that gleamed so near.

“There were two stewards in boat No. 8 with us and thirty-one women. The name of the steward was Crawford. We were lowered quietly to the water, and when we had pushed off from the Titanic’s side I asked the seaman if he would care to have me take the tiller, as I knew something about boats. He said, ‘Certainly, lady.’ I climbed aft into the stern sheets and asked my cousin to help me. “The first impression I had as we left the ship was that above all things we must not lose our self-control. We had no officer to take command of our boat, and the little seaman had to assume all the responsibility. He did it nobly, alternately cheering us with words of encouragement, then rowing doggedly. Then Signora de Satode Penasco began to scream for her husband. It was too horrible. I left the tiller to my cousin and slipped down beside her to be of what comfort I could. Poor woman! Her sobs tore our hearts and her moans were unspeakable in their sadness. Miss Cherry stayed at the tiller of our boat until the Carpathia picked us up.

“The most awful part of the whole thing was seeing the rows of portholes vanishing one by one. Several of us–and Tom Jones–wanted to row back and see if there was not some chance for rescuing any one that had possibly survived, but the majority in the boat ruled, that we had no right to risk their lives on the bare chance of finding any one alive after the final plunge. They also said that the captain’s own orders had been to ‘row for those ship lights over there,’ and that we who wished to try for others who might be drowning had no business to interfere with his orders. Of course that settled the matter, and we rowed on. “Indeed, I saw–we all saw–a ship’s lights not more than three miles away!” Turning to Lord Rothes, Lady Rothes said:–“I am a fair judge of distances, am I not?” He answered, “Yes, you are.”

 

The Lights Disappear

Continuing, Lady Rothes said:– “For three hours we pulled steadily for the two masthead lights that showed brilliantly in the darkness. For a few minutes we saw the ship’s port light, then it vanished, and the masthead lights got dimmer on the horizon until they, too, disappeared. “A Mrs. Smith did yeoman service. She rowed for five hours with Tom Jones without taking a rest. Really, she was magnificent, not only in her attitude, but in the whole souled way in which she worked. “Mrs. Pearson also rowed, and my maid, Roberta Maioni, rowed the last half of the night. “I did not know Mr. Ismay by sight, until one night at dinner in the restaurant he came in late, and some one pointed him out to me as being the managing director of the line.

There was no excitement of any kind, save that once the third class passengers became obstreperous, but it was instantly put down. “When the awful end came, I tried my best to keep the Spanish woman from hearing the agonizing sound of distress. They seemed to continue forever, although it could not have been more than ten minutes until the silence of a lonely sea dropped down. The indescribable loneliness, the ghastliness of our feelings never can be told. We tried to keep in touch with the other boats by shouting and succeeded fairly well. Our boat was the furthest away because we had chased the phantom lights for three hours. Yes, I rowed for three hours.”

Roberta Maioni, the maid, said:–

“I was not at all frightened. Everybody was saying as we left the ship that ‘she was good for twelve hours yet’ and I was too numb to realize the terror of it all until we were safe on board the Carpathia.” “Brave men, all that stood back so that the women should have at least a chance to live!” said Lady Rothes. “Their memories should be held sacred in the mind of the world forever.”

 


Short Stories on Honor, Chivalry, and the World of Nobility—no. 531

 

 

Quote of the day

DAILY QUOTE for July 16, 2019

Today God invites you to do good; do it therefore today. Tom...

read link

July 16

 

Today God invites you to do good;
do it therefore today.
Tomorrow you may not have time, or
God may no longer call you to do it.

St. Alphonsus Maria de Liguori


PLEDGE REPARATION TO OUR LADY HERE!

Saint of the day

SAINT OF THE DAY

Our Lady of Mount Carmel

Elias saw the cloud as a symbol of the Virgin mentioned in t...

read link

Our Lady of Mount Carmel

The title of Our Lady of Mount Carmel can be traced back to the hermits living on Mount Carmel in Israel during the Old Testament. This ancient community prayed for the advent of the Virgin-Mother through whom salvation was promised to mankind. In Hebrew, “Carmel” means “garden”. In ancient times this mountain was celebrated for its lush, verdant, and flowery beauty.

It was also on Mount Carmel that the Prophet Elijah prayed to God for rain during a terrible drought afflicting Israel for its sins and idolatry of Baal. The first sign that his prayer was answered was a tiny cloud that appeared in the sky out over the Mediterranean, the precursor of a great rainfall.

Elias saw the cloud as a symbol of the Virgin mentioned in the prophecies of Isaiah (7:14). The hermits took after his example and prayed likewise for the advent of the much-awaited Virgin who would become the mother of the Messiah. Praying thus became their spiritual mission.

Theologians see in that little cloud a figure of Mary, bringing salvation in the seventh age of the world. As the clouds arise out of the sea without the weight and the salinity of the waters, so has Mary arisen out of the human race without its stains.

In the twelfth century, St. Berthold, a Frenchman, pilgrim or crusader, came to Mount Carmel seeking to visit Elijah’s cave, and ended by founding a community imbued with the Marian spirit of the holy prophet and the hermits of old.

St. Brocard, successor of St. Berthold, set their way of life to a Rule, which was approved by Pope Innocent IV in 1247. From the time of St. Brocard, these monks were known as the “Brothers of Our Lady of Mount Carmel.”

Our Lady of Mount Carmel cannot be mentioned without also mentioning her brown scapular. On July 16, 1251, Our Lady appeared to St. Simon Stock, an English Carmelite monk, and then General of the Carmelite Order. On one arm she held the Child Jesus and on the other a brown garment called a scapular, to be draped over the front and back of a person. As she showed him this garment she said, “This shall be the privilege for you and for all the Carmelites, that anyone dying in this habit shall be saved.”

This privilege is extended to lay persons who, wishing to participate in this promise, choose to be enrolled in a small version of the scapular by an officiating priest or deacon.

This practice must not be understood superstitiously or “magically”, but in light of Catholic teaching that perseverance in the theological virtues of faith, hope and charity are required for salvation.

Weekly Story

WEEKLY STORY

In the Secret of the Rosary, St. Louis de Montfort relates t...

read link

The Rosary and the Possessed Girl

In his book, The Secret of the Rosary, St. Louis de Montfort relates that a Dominican, Father Jean Amat, was once giving a Lenten Mission in the Kingdom of Aragon, Spain, when a young girl, possessed by the devil was brought to him.

Father Amat began the exorcism. After several unsuccessful attempts, the priest had an idea; taking his Rosary, he looped it around the girl’s neck. 

No sooner had he done this, the girl began to squirm and scream and the devil, shouting through her mouth shrieked, “Take if off, take off; these beads are tormenting me!”

At last, moved to pity for the girl, the priest lifted the Rosary beads off her neck.

The next night, while the good Dominican lay in bed, the same devils who possessed the young girl entered his room. Foaming with rage, they tried to seize him, but he had his Rosary clasped in his hand and no efforts from the infernal spirits could wrench the blessed beads from him.

Then, going on the offensive and using the Rosary as a physical weapon, Fr. Amat scourged the demons crying out, “Holy Mary, Our Lady of the Rosary, help me, come to my aid!” at which the demons took flight.

The next day on his way to church, the priest met the poor girl, still possessed. One of the devils within her taunted him, “Well, brother, if you had been without your Rosary, we should have made short work of you…”

With renewed trust and vigor, the priest unlaced his Rosary from his belt, and flinging it around the girl’s neck commanded, “By the sacred names of Jesus and Mary His Holy Mother, and by the power of the holy Rosary, I command you, evil spirits, leave the body of this girl at once.”

The demons were immediately forced to obey him, and the young girl was freed.

“These stories,” concludes St. Louis de Montfort, “show the power of the holy Rosary in overcoming all sorts of temptations from the evil spirits and all sorts of sins because these blessed beads of the Rosary put devils to rout.”

Click here to order your Free Rosary Guide Booklet

In the Secret of the Rosary, St. Louis de Montfort relates that a Dominican, Father Jean Amat, was once giving a Lenten Mission in the Kingdom of Aragon, Spain, when a young girl, possessed by the devil was brought to him.

Let’s keep in touch!