IS PICKED UP LATER
And Happily Reunited With His Wife in Lifeboat---Thrilling Story of Man Known in This City
One of the most remarkable stories told by any of the survivors, is that of Frederick Hoyt, who with his wife was taken safe aboard the Carpathia after escaping from the Titanic when she sank in the Atlantic, just one week ago yesterday morning. The story has a local interest because Mr. Hoyt is related to Samuel S. Evans, manager of the Dolphin Jute mills.
Mr. Hoyt is a noted yachtsman. Hw went over on the Atlantic when she crossed the ocean a few years ago to contest for the international cup and it was with great delight that he took passage to America, with his wife in the greatest and grandest vessel afloat, week before last.
On the fatal night, Mr. and Mrs. Hoyt had retired to their stateroom. They were awakened by a steward who told them to dress and hasten on deck at once. Mr. Hoyt told his wife they had better dress deliberately and thoroughly, so as to be prepared for any emergency, and he saw that she was warmly clad and over all her wraps he threw a long fur robe around her while he himself put on plenty of heavy clothing and a warm top coat over all.
Thus equipped they went to the deck. After a while things began to take on a serious aspect. The orders were to get the women into the boats. Mr. Hoyt assisted his wife into one of the lifeboats and it was about to be lowered into the water when Mrs. Hoyt saw that her husband was still on the deck. Immediately she scrambled out of the boat and took her place beside him. Presently, however, she felt herself unceremoniously picked up and bundled into another lifeboat which was instantly lowered into the water and pulled away from the doomed steamer by the oarsmen aboard.
Then Mr. Hoyt began to consider his own situation. To him there seemed but once chance. He must swim for his life, and that would be impossible heavily and encumbrously clad as he was. So he went below to his stateroom and carefully stripped to his underclothing in preparation for the final struggle. Then he ascended to the upper deck and climbed the bridge where the gallant Captain Smith was still on duty, and whom he knew very well. They briefly exchanged views of the outcome which was inevitable to their trained eyes.
“But,” said Mr. Hoyt, “I feel like taking a drink before I take the plunge, don’t you, captain?” The captain said he agreed with him and repairing to the captain’s stateroom each took a big drink, to fortify him against the bitter cold.
On reascending to the deck, Captain Smith said: “You will have to jump and you had better do it soon.”
“Yes, I know it,” said Mr. Hoyt, “but I won’t take the plunge from this deck, but will go to one of the lower decks.”
“That will be better,” said Captain Smith.
Mr. Hoyt descended to a deck that was nearer the surface of the water and plunged into the icy depths.
He was a powerful swimmer and soon got a safe distance from the gigantic vessel. After swimming for what seemed an interminable length of time he perceived a lifeboat near him and speedily was hauled aboard.
One of the women passengers saw his almost naked condition and in pitiful compassion drew from about her shoulders a long fur robe and threw it about the half frozen man. As she did so the woman’s sight fell upon her face.
“My God! It’s my husband,” she shrieked.
And it was. By God’s mercy he had been guided in his swimming into the pathway of the very lifeboat into which his wife had been tossed and instead of sinking to his icy grave he was restored to her wifely heart.
Having wrapped him in her fur robe she advised him to take to the oars to get up circulation after his long immersion in the icy waters, which he did, and he pulled so vigorously that he was soon in a glow from the exertion.
The rest is soon told. The lifeboat was picked up a few hours after by the Carpathia and they arrived in New York not a bit worse for their experience but filled with thanksgiving for their wonderful restoration to each other in so marvelous a manner.