THE CELTIC AND BRITANNIC COLLISION.

Star (Christchurch), Issue 5993, 30 July 1887, Page 6

THE CELTIC AND BRITANNIC COLLISION.

By the Arizona, which has arrived in London from New York, come despatches and newspapers containing graphic accounts of the recent terrible collision between the Celtic and Britannic steamere. As the two vessels struck, there was a terrific roar, and the sea was churned into foam by the shock. The prow of the Celtic struck the port side of the Britannic, abaft the mizzenmast, tearing a gap 4ft wide ia her side at the water-line. It was a glancing blow, and as the Britannic plunged ahead with her helm hard-a-port the torn prow of the Celtic swept back along her ponderous rival, groaning and tearing away the massive iron bulwarks of the main deck ]ike so much brown paper. With blanched faces and soulpiercing 1 cries of terror a crowd of the steerage passengers on the main deck fled through the iron-covered gangway at the side of the vessel below the hurricane deck. The heavy curved iron. plateß were twisted up, and f?l* a of shattered timber tip on c passengers beneath, &3ftalating them horribly, One man was torn in two. The head of a little girl was cvi oS, and the fragments of her body spattered the clothes of her wounded brother. She had been smiling in her mother's face a moment before. Two other men and a woman were dashed into eternity

as the grinding timbers and plates were hurled in all directions, wounding as they fell. The speed of the Britannic turned the Celtic around, and as the latter bounded back the air was filled with fearful cries. The deck of the Britannic ran with blood. Huge wavea swirled against the hole in her side, and the ocean poured into compartment No. 4, where the single men of the steerage slept. Horror reigned below. " Hush I" cried the steward, a3 the first shock came, and the vessel shook from end to end: "there'B no danger; it's all right; an accident has happened to the machinery." Sick women with their infants in their arms crawled out of the steerage bunks, and stared with bloodless countenances. The rough, men rushed on deck, and children began to cry. Suddenly the steward reappeared in the steerage. He looked like a corpse. "Up on deck for your lives '." he roared ; " the ship is sinking." Then arose a wild, mad rush for the boats. The masculine brutea fought their way to the front, trampling on the weak and helpless as they went. The fog grew thicker and thicker as the savage scene grew more and more tumultuous. The women were pale, silent, and heroic. Three noble Sisters of St John the Baptist stole about in their black robes exhorting their sister passengers not to fear death if they had to go down with the ship, but to pray for courage. A man came down among the women in the steerage at two o'clock on Friday morning. There was no colour in his face, and he shivered. "My God!" ho cried; "they are sewing up the dead people in sacks." It was so. Under the pallid gleam of tho electric light a group of seamen were stitching silently at dark bundles. A few men stood around. Tears stole down the bronzed faces of the sailors as they did their solemn work out on tho wide, lonely ocean. Then each bundle was lifted tenderly and reverently to the bulwarks, and placed upon a plank. Splash ! splash ! splash ! The rough men wiped their eyes, and Captain Perry buried his face in his hands. Splash! splash! The wind howled and the waves splashed, and the mother of the little dead girl wailed over her wounded boy. When the morning sun rose in splendour the sea was calm and gentle, and the haggard passengers hung over the rails of the two riven vessels like some Btarved host on the walla of a besieged city.