From the Old World to the New

W.T. Stead (Excerpted from The Review of Reviews, Christmas Edition, Dec. 1892) ch. 7-8
Reprinted in Martin Gardner (ed.), The Wreck of the Titanic Foretold? (NY, 1986), pp. 101-121

[Webmaster's note: This is an extract from Stead's story, "From the Old World to the New", which appeared as The Review of Reviews Christmas annual in 1892. This is not the entire story, only the parts in which Stead, through his story, supposedly anticipates the sinking of the Titanic.]

Chapter 7: Coincidence or Clairvoyance

Mr. Compton was abruptly aroused from his reverie by a direct appeal from Mrs. Irwin.

"If you have ten minutes to spare, Mr. Compton, I will be glad to have a word with you by yourself."

"Certainly, madam, will you come to the Library? It is sure to be empty just now, and we can speak at leisure."

They soon found themselves ensconced in a corner of the Library. There were only one or two ladies present, and shortly afterwards these left Compton and Mrs. Irwin alone.

"I would not have ventured to trouble you," said Mrs. Irwin, "but I know that you are no stranger to occult things. If I had not seen that in the face of you I should not have ventured to speak."

"Yes, yes," said Compton, somewhat impatiently, "but what has that to do with it?"

"It has everything to do with it, sir," said she; "because, if you did not understand, it would be no use trying to explain. I must tell you that I come of one of the oldest families in Ireland. We have the Banshee, of course, but, what is more to the purpose, I have occasionally the gift of second sight. Now, last night—"

Compton, who at first had listened with hardly concealed impatience, suddenly manifested eager interest.

"My dear Mrs. Irwin," he exclaimed, "why did you not tell me this before? Nothing interests me so much as to come upon those rare but peculiarly gifted persons who have inherited, or acquired by some strange gift of the gods, the privilege—often a sombre and terrible privilege—of seeing into futurity."

"Sombre and terrible you may well say it is," said Mrs. Irwin, "and fain would I be without it. It is a gruesome thing to see, as I have done, the funeral in the midst of the wedding-feast, and to mark the shroud high on the breast of the heir when he comes of age. But the gift comes when it comes, and goes when it goes; it seems as fitful as the shooting-stars which come no one knows from whence, and disappear no one knows whither."

"Well," said Compton, "you were saying that last night—?"

"I was saying," said Mrs. Irwin, "that last night, as I was lying asleep in my berth, I was awakened by a sudden cry, as of men in mortal peril, and I roused myself to listen, and there before my eyes, as plain as you are sitting there, I saw a sailing ship among the icebergs. She had been stove[d] in by the ice, and was fast sinking. The crew were crying piteously for help: it was their voices that roused me. Some of them had climbed upon the ice; others were on the sinking ship, which was drifting away as she sank. Even as I looked she settled rapidly by the bow, and went down with a plunge. The waters bubbled and foamed. I could see the heads of a few swimmers in the eddy. One after another they sank, and I saw them no more. I saw that there were six men and a boy on the iceberg. Then, in a moment, the whole scene vanished, and I was alone in my berth, with the wailing cry of the drowning sailors still ringing in my ears."

"Did you notice the appearance of any of the survivors?" said he, anxiously.

"As plainly as I am looking at you," she replied. "I noticed especially one man, very tall—over six feet, I should say—who wore a curious Scotch plaid around his shoulders and a Scotch cap on his head. He had a rough red beard, and one eye was either blind or closed up."

"And did you see the name of the ship before it foundered?"

"Certainly I did; it was plain to see as it went down headforemost. I read the name on the stern. It was the Ann and Jane of Montrose."

Compton rose from his chair, and took a turn or two in deep thought. Then he stopped, and said,—

"Mrs. Irwin, you have trusted me, I will trust you. What you said has decided me, or rather has given me hope that we may be able to induce the captain of the Majestic to rescue these unfortunates, one of whom is a friend of my own."

"But did you know about it before I spoke?" asked Mrs. Irwin.

"I need not explain to you," said Compton, not heeding the interruption, "for you understand that there is no impossibility in the instantaneous communication of intelligence, from any distance, to others who have what some have described as the sixth sense. To some it comes in the form of clairvoyance, to others as clairaudience, while to a third class, among whom I count myself, it comes in the shape of what is called automatic writing. I have many friends in all parts of the world who also have this gift, and we use it constantly, to the almost entire disuse of the telegraph. At least once every day, each of us is under a pledge to place his hand at the disposal of any of the associated friends who may wish urgently to communicate with him. This morning, at noon, when I placed my hand with the pen on my dispatch book, it wrote off, with feverish rapidity, a message which I will now read to you:

"'John Thomas. Tuesday morning, four o'clock. The Ann and Jane, Montrose, struck on an iceberg in the fog in North Atlantic, and almost immediately foundered. Six men and a boy succeeded in reaching the ice alive. All others were drowned. For God's sake, rescue us speedily; otherwise death is certain from cold and hunger. We are close to the line of outward steamers.—John Thomas.'

"The signature, you see," said Compton, "is the same as that appended to the last letter I received from him, which I hunted up after I had received this message. I have, therefore, no doubt that 'John Thomas' with five other men and a boy are exposed to a lingering death on the iceberg some hundred miles ahead."

"But," said Mrs. Irwin, "what can we do?"

"That," replied Compton, "is my difficulty. To have gone to the captain with this message, without any confirmation but my word, would probably have exposed me to certain ridicule, and might have led the captain to steer still further to the south. Now, however, that you also have had the message, I will hesitate no longer."

Without more ado, he wrote a short note to the captain, begging to be allowed to communicate with him on a matter of urgent and immediate importance, involving questions of life and death.

Hardly had the messenger departed with the note when the professor and the doctor entered the library.

"Halloo, Compton," said the professor, "are you not coming on deck to see the fog? But, in the name of fortune, what is the matter? Doctor, I think you had better look to Compton."

"It's nothing," said Compton faintly, "only a passing qualm. Is the fog very dense?"

"You can see it in the distance like a dim grey wall lying right across the bows of the steamer. We shall be into it in half-an-hour. But," persisted the professor, "something is up. Can I not help?"

"Professor," said Compton, a sudden thought striking him, "if I send for you from the captain's cabin, please hold yourself in readiness to come."

"Certainly," said the professor. "But what, in the name of common-sense, are you troubling the captain for just as the ship is entering an ice fog?"

"Mr. Compton, the captain will see you at once in the cabin," said the returned messenger.

"Now, Mrs. Irwin; not one word to any one! Professor, I may send for you shortly."

So saying, he followed the messenger to the captain's cabin. It is but seldom that any passenger ventures to intrude into that sanctum. But Mr. Compton was not an ordinary passenger. He had often crossed the Atlantic in vessels under the command of the present captain. He was known to be a man of power, of influence, and of wealth. More than that, he had, on more than one occasion, given invaluable information, procured no one knew how or where, which had enabled the captain to avoid imminent dangers into which he was steaming at full speed. He was, therefore, assured of a respectful hearing, even from the autocrat of the Majestic on the verge of an ice fog.

"Now, Mr. Compton," said the captain, "what is it you wish to say to me? I have only a few minutes to spare. We shall have to steer southward to avoid the ice floe which is drifting across our usual course."

"I want you," said Mr. Compton, imperturbably, "to continue your usual course in order to pick up six men and a boy, who are stranded on an iceberg from the ship Ann and Jane, of Montrose, which foundered at four o'clock this morning, after collision with the ice."

The captain stared. "Really, Mr. Compton, how do you know that? It is impossible for any one to know it."

Mr. Compton replied. "There is the despatch from one of my friends, John Thomas, who was on the ship, and is now on the iceberg, received by me in his own handwriting at noon this day."

The captain took the paper with an uneasy expression of countenance.

"Entering the fog, sir," said an officer, putting his head into the cabin.

"Slacken speed," said the captain. "I shall be out in a moment."

He carefully read and re-read the paper, and then said—

"Well, really, if you were not Mr. Compton I should consider you a lunatic. What possible reliance can be placed upon such a statement?"

"I received this," replied Compton, significantly, "in the same way that I received the message of 1889, which enabled you to—"

"I remember," said the captain; "otherwise, I should not be listening to you now."

"But this story has not come without confirmation;" and then Compton repeated Mrs. Irwin's clairvoyant vision.

"What do I care for these old women's stories," said the captain. "But even if they were true, what then? I have nearly 2,000 passengers and crew, all told, on board the Majestic. I dare not risk them and the ship, hunting for a half-dozen castaways on an iceberg on the North Atlantic."

"But," said Compton, "if you are convinced that the men are there, dare you leave them to their fate?"

"But I am not convinced. They may have died ere now, even if they ever were there at all."

"Might I ask you to give me a pencil and paper," said Compton. The captain handed him what he wanted. Compton at once grasped the pencil, and placed it on the paper. Almost immediately it wrote:—

"John Thomas. Iceberg. Three o'clock. At one o'clock the iceberg parted under our feet, three men and a boy were carried away. Three still remain, frost bitten, without food or fire. We shall not be able to survive the night. When the Ann and Jane foundered, we were on the outward liners' route, 45 by 45, on the extreme southern edge of the ice-floe. Since then, it has rather receded. For God's sake, do not desert us.—John Thomas."

The captain stared at the curious writing, which was not Compton's, and then stared at Compton.

The latter merely said, "How far are we off the position mentioned?"

The captain looked at the chart.

"We are steering by our present altered course directly upon the spot where he says the berg is floating. If I believed your message, I would steer still more to the southward, to give the ice a clear berth. It is no joke shaving round an iceberg in such a fog as this. But I do not believe your message, and I will not alter the course of the Majestic by one point, for all the witches and wizards that ever lived."

"Captain," said Compton, "your niece is on board, I believe?"

"Yes," said the captain. "But what in the world has she to do with it?"

"If you will allow her to come here, and permit me to send for my friend, the professor, I think we shall be able to convince you that these sailors are waiting deliverance."

The captain rang the bell. "Bring my niece here instantly," he said, "and Professor Glogoul. Thank heaven," he added, "the fog is so dense, no one will be able to see them come, or else they would think—and think rightly—that I had taken leave of my wits."

In a minute or two, the niece and the professor had both arrived.

"Captain," said Compton, "will you let your niece sit down? The professor hypnotized her in a previous voyage, and cured her of seasickness. He can cast her into hypnotic sleep with her consent, by merely making a pass over her face with his hand."

The captain growled, "Do what you like, only make haste. If it were any one but Mr. Compton," he muttered under his breath, "if it were any one but Mr. Compton, I should very soon have cleared the cabin."

The captain's niece had hardly taken her seat when the professor's pass threw her into a hypnotic sleep. A few more passes and the professor said she was in the clairvoyant state.

"What is it that you want?" he asked.

"Tell her," said Compton, "to go ahead of the ship in the exact course she is now steering, and tell us what she sees."

The professor repeated the request. Almost immediately the captain's niece began to shiver and shudder, then she spoke—

"I go on for half-an-hour, then for an hour; it gets colder and colder. I see ice, not icebergs, but floating ice. I go through this floating ice for an hour, for two hours, then the fog gets thinner and thinner, it almost disappears. I see icebergs, they shine beautifully in the sunlight. There are many of them stretching for miles and miles, as far as I can see. What a noise there is when they break and capsize."

"Do you see any ship or any thing?" asked the professor.

"No, I see nothing, only icebergs. I go on and on for another hour. Then I see on an iceberg, near the foot, some one making signals. I come nearer, I see him plainly. It is a tall man with one eye and red hair. He is walking up and down. Beside him there is one man sitting, and another man who seems to be dead. It seems to be the edge of the iceberg. There is clear water beyond."

"That will do," said Compton.

The professor blew lightly on the girl's face.

She opened her eyes, and stood up looking round with a dazed expression.

"Well," said Compton to the captain, "are you convinced?"

"Convinced!" said the captain. "It's all confounded nonsense. Out with you! If you ever had to steer the Majestic through an ice fog in the mid-Atlantic you would know better than to fool away the captain's time by such a pack of tomfoolery."

The niece and the professor left the cabin.

As Compton turned to go he said, "Captain, that tall, one-eyed man on the iceberg is one of my friends. You will keep on your course, as you say:—I desire nothing better. Will you promise me, if only for the sake of the past, that if you strike drift-ice in an hour and a half, and if you emerge from the fog two hours later on the edge of the floe of icebergs, you will keep a look-out and save John Thomas if you can?"

"If, if, if," said the captain, contemptuously. "Oh, yes, if all these things happen, I will promise; never fear, I can safely promise that!"

As Compton left the cabin the captain remarked— "They say it is always the cleverest men who have got the biggest bee in their bonnet, and upon my word I begin to believe it." continued..