THE EDUCATION OF ROSE DAWSON: PART I
Chapter Two
Alleviation
But even people determined to go
it alone need a helping hand sometimes. Representatives from relief agencies or
organizations with the ad hoc purpose of providing relief were waiting both
inside and outside the pier for the survivors. Rose was reluctant at first to
accept any form of charity from these parties. She had already walked north
along West Street until it became Eleventh Avenue at the junction with West 14th
Street, and then turned east on this thoroughfare to an unknown future. Her
first concern was where to stay for the night. The Strand Hotel? A
possibility. But it was too close to the pier, and hence, formed too strong
a link to her former life. It also did not look very hospitable for a young,
single woman. In the meantime, the rain kept falling. The cobblestone streets
were not kind to Rose’s shoes, and, by extension, to her feet. So rather than
risk catching cold without knowing where she would spend the night, she humbly
returned to the Pier 54 entrance to seek some relief. Little known to her, she
had been loitering at or near the pier for over an hour, for it had just passed
eleven PM.
A couple of representatives–a man
and a woman from the Salvation Army–had seen Rose re-crossing the street, and
approached her to offer assistance. They wore SA uniforms–dark blue with a red
S on each epaulet. The man wore a cap, while the woman wore a bonnet. Rose had
seen Mrs. Abbott, who was a member of the SA herself, wear something similar.
The SA was among those relief agencies that were allowed inside the police
cordon for the survivors as they touched solid ground, but Rose had originally
ignored them.
"Do you need a place to stay
tonight, miss?" the man asked.
Rose nodded.
"We can help you,
dear," said the woman. "Please follow me."
She led Rose to a waiting car,
inside which two other relief-seeking passengers–a man and a woman, both
presumably Third Class–were already seated. Rose gave each of them a friendly
nod, and the woman responded in kind, while the man did not seem to acknowledge
her presence. All three of them were unkempt, exhausted, and still trying to
come to grips with what had transpired just a few days ago. No one was in the
mood to "break the ice," and certainly not after the ice had nearly
broken them. They were just glad to be on dry land again. Sandwiches and coffee
were distributed to Rose and her new companions. Although hungry, their
appetites were largely curtailed by the tragedy, so they only nibbled at their
sandwiches and sipped their coffee slowly. They treated the food more as a
gesture of kindness than as their next meal.
Another woman in a more elaborate
SA uniform came over and greeted the passengers. "Does anybody need medical
assistance?" she asked. Everyone remained silent. "Does anyone need
to contact next of kin?" Again, silence. "All right, then. I hope all
of you are comfortable. I am Commander Evangeline Booth, head of the Salvation
Army in the United States. My assistants and I will do everything we can to
help you recuperate from your anguish." Commander Booth noticed that Rose
was still dripping wet from her exposure to the rain, so she requested a dry
blanket, which was delivered, and put this around Rose while taking away her
drenched shawl. "Do not worry, miss," she said reassuringly.
"You will be fine." She kindly stroked Rose’s wet hair and gave her a
pat on the forearm. Rose reacted with a cautious smile before speaking her
first words since disembarking from the Carpathia.
"M-madam Booth?"
"Yes, dear?"
"Thank you for your
kindness."
"That is the mission of the
Salvation Army, dear. Now, just relax and try to regain your strength by eating
as much as you can. You are safe now." Commander Booth turned to the other
two survivors. "All of you are safe, I promise you. God has spoken, and He
is with us tonight."
After ten more minutes of
waiting, Commander Booth decided that no more survivors would be boarding
Rose’s car. "That should be all for now. Let us get you all to a warm
shelter where you can get some rest. I am sure you are all looking forward to
sleeping on a real bed tonight!" She tried to sound as cheerful as
possible without overdoing it. "I assure you that you will–all of you. It
is the least we can do to help assuage your grief while you heal." She
gave Rose an encouraging smile before closing the car door. "Lieutenant
Gregg," she said to the driver, "you may bring our guests to the
shelters. I will stay behind with two of our soldiers to see if anyone else
needs help. Please deliver the women to the 15th Street location
first." The driver nodded and headed north along Eleventh Avenue before
turning east onto West 14th Street–the same route Rose had taken
before she turned back.
*****
(L) Commander Evangeline Booth; (C) Women’s Rescue Home (red X);
(R) Brigadier Emma Bown
Some twenty-five minutes later, the
car pulled up in front of a brownstone building at 316 East 15th
Street, shortly after which two SA staff members with umbrellas came down its
steps to greet the shelter’s newest guests. "A warm welcome to all of
you," the older one said in a kind voice. "I’m Brigadier Emma Bown,
the manager of this shelter, and this is Cadet Adelaide Hill."
"Cadet Adelaide Hill at your
service, but you can call me Della," said the younger staff member.
"I see there are two ladies
aboard who can’t wait to get some well-deserved rest," said Brigadier
Bown. "But I’m very sorry to inform you that a couple of our rooms have
been leaking water from the rain. We had to move the affected guests along with
their beds to other rooms, so some of the rooms are already very crowded. We
still have beds for both of you, but we’ll have to put you in the corridor for
now. I’m very sorry to inconvenience you like this because it’s not fair after
what the two of you have been through."
Rose and the other female
passenger continued to look at Brigadier Bown silently and without expression.
Sleeping in a hallway was infinitely more tolerable than treading
water–freezing water–in the Atlantic.
"All right, then,"
continued Brigadier Bown. "If you can kindly alight from the car, we can
escort you inside without you getting wet." She tried to sound as cheerful
as possible, aware that nerves were still frayed in the aftermath of the
disaster.
Rose and the female passenger
looked at each other to see who would alight first. Neither wanted to be inconsiderate
by rushing for the door without at least asking, although both were tired and
needed rest. Finally, Rose whispered: "Go, and I will follow." Her
riding companion smiled and nodded her thanks. She exited the car to be covered
by Brigadier Bown’s umbrella, and Rose followed to be shielded by Cadet Hill.
Before she closed the door, she thanked the driver and bade farewell to the
male passenger, but only the driver reacted to her send-off. "Rest
comfortably tonight, miss," he told her.
Once everyone was inside,
Brigadier Bown instructed Cadet Hill to take Rose and her companion upstairs.
Cadet Hill led them up two flights of stairs to the third floor, where a bunk
bed equipped with pillows and blankets was waiting. "This is where you’ll
be sleeping tonight," she explained. "We’ve advised our other guests
to be as quiet as possible when they walk by. I’ll let the two of you decide
who gets the top bunk," she said lightheartedly. "We have a couple of
lockers there," she said, indicating the lockers down the corridor.
"But if you have any possessions you need to keep safe, I can help you
with them. In the meantime, I’ll bring you a change of clothes and hot cocoa.
If you need to use the washroom, it is down the corridor. I apologize for the
inconvenience, but I promise you’ll be safe with us." She then gave them
both keys to the lockers and left to acquire the items she mentioned.
Brigadier Bown rejoined them.
"I must apologize again for not being able to give you a room tonight. But
I promise we’ll fix the problem promptly, and we’ll have a room for you very
soon. If you need anything, please ask me or any of our staff, and we’ll be
happy to assist you. If nothing else, I’ll let you rest, and I will see you
tomorrow."
After Brigadier Bown left them,
Rose’s new bunkmate introduced herself. "My name’s Howard. May Elizabeth Howard," she said in a peculiar British
accent as she offered her hand to Rose.
"Rose Dawson," replied
Rose in kind, while taking Miss Howard’s hand and shaking it softly.
"A pleasure to meet you,
Miss Dawson. Where will you be going after this?"
This was a tough question for
Rose to answer because she did not know what her destination would be, even if
Jack were still alive. He did not specify where they would go once Titanic
docked in New York. As far as they were concerned, anywhere except back to Cal
and her mother was fine. "I am not sure," she said. "I need some
time to think about it. How about you, Miss Howard?"
"I was planning to join my
brother in Canada, but now I don’t know," Miss Howard responded. "I
also have a sister who lives not far from here–in Northern New York."
"You are most fortunate to
have family here," said Rose, as her eyes turned to the floor.
Miss Howard sensed that Rose had
lost someone close to her in the sinking. "Oh, I understand, Miss Dawson,
and I’m sorry." She gave Rose a pat on the shoulder. "Stay strong.
It’s a better day tomorrow."
"Stay strong." That was the same advice Angus had given
her on the last night she saw him. Rose accepted Miss Howard’s act of sympathy
by patting and squeezing her hand. "Thank you, Miss Howard, and good luck
to you." The two gave each other an extended hug even though they were
still very much mutual strangers. But at the same time, it seemed as if they
had shared a lifetime together.
"So, who gets the top
bunk?" asked Miss Howard considerately.
Rose assumed that Miss Howard was
uncomfortable with having to climb onto the upper deck. A week earlier, she
would have been as well, since she had never had to sleep on one before. But
after the physical challenge she endured aboard Titanic, scaling a bunk
bed was now child’s play in comparison. "I will take it," she said.
"Just make yourself comfortable below me." Rose climbed up to examine
her new bed. It is humble. Certainly not something on B-Deck. No down-filled
pillows or silk bed sheets, but no mother to tell me when to go to bed. Tonight
I will not sleep like a pampered rich girl.
*****
Cadet Hill returned with the aforementioned
items. She handed Rose and Miss Howard each a flannel nightgown, cotton
knee-length knickers, and a pair of wool socks–all used. "They were
donated to us," she said. "Don’t worry, they’ve all been washed and
disinfected." She also gave them each a washcloth, a towel, a bar of soap,
a toothbrush, and a can of tooth powder. Rose had already kicked off her shoes,
which had been hurting her feet, and slipped on the socks.
"It’s been a long ordeal for
all of you," remarked Cadet Hill sympathetically, finally handing each a
cup of hot cocoa. "Do any of you need to shower before you go to
bed?"
"I think I will," said
Miss Howard. Cadet Hill then looked at Rose.
"I will change, but I just
want to rest," said Rose, slowly sipping her cocoa.
"I understand," said
Cadet Hill. She allowed them to finish their beverages before escorting them to
the washroom. "I will leave you ladies now to attend to our other guests,
but if you need anything, there is a bell on each floor that you can ring to
summon assistance." She showed Rose and Miss Howard where the bell on
their floor was located.
"Thank you, Miss Hill,"
said Rose, "for everything."
"That’s my job, Miss…"
She waited for Rose to introduce herself formally.
"Dawson. Rose Dawson."
Rose offered a tired hand to Cadet Hill, who shook it with a gentle demeanor.
She did the same with Miss Howard after the latter introduced herself.
"A pleasure to meet you all.
Now, just rest comfortably after you’ve freshened up. I shall turn out the
lights in the corridor when both of you are in bed. We usually turn them out at
9:30 PM, but tonight is a special circumstance. Just to let you know, we
normally rise at 6:30 AM, and breakfast starts at 7:45 AM. However, we’ll make
an exception for you and the other survivors. Hopefully you can join us."
Then she left the washroom.
As Miss Howard went to shower,
Rose looked at herself in the mirror, which offered a much clearer image than
that afforded by the puddle on the street. Rose Dawson, you look terrible.
She ran her hands through her frizzy hair before discovering that her earrings
had miraculously managed to stay on her ears after all she had been through
since Sunday evening. She took them off and placed them into a pocket in Cal’s
jacket.
Then she slipped out of the
jacket, untied the sash around her dress, undid her dress, and unfastened a new
type of undergarment called a Büstenhalter, which she had bought in
Europe with allowance money she had accumulated from her father before he died.
Her mother was repulsed by such a daring article of clothing and tried to
prevent its purchase and that of the butterfly kimono, but Cal approved it,
most likely because he wanted her to wear them for his enjoyment. Jack,
however, was the first, and only, one to see her wear both–before she stripped
both off for his gratification. Jack, you lucky devil! How fitting for you,
and not Cal, to have been the first! Rose could not help but smile at the
thought, which was bittersweet because she realized there would be no second
time, but her next thought lifted her spirits again. How funny, Mother, that
you should object to such nouveau undergarments when you enjoy associating with
Lady Duff-Gordon, who designs the naughtiest lingerie there is!
The Büstenhalter’s
greatest benefit was that it allowed for more freedom of movement than a corset
because it was not boned, and this manifested itself even before Titanic
hit the iceberg, when Rose and Jack had to escape Lovejoy’s relentless pursuit.
Once the ship was sinking, Rose found herself literally running a gauntlet that
would have turned the head of any athlete. Not bad for an indoor girl.
A Büstenhalter similar to what Rose was wearing
She continued to undress, pulling
down her long knickers, which had begun to crease after being immersed in
saltwater and worn for so long. Then she put on the nightgown, put her dress,
shoes, and soiled undergarments into the locker, climbed up to her bed again
with Cal’s jacket, pulled the blanket over herself and the jacket, and sank
into a deep sleep without waiting for the lights to go out.
Her first night as Rose Dawson
was over. She had survived.