sengers. Suddenly a black-faced group of stokers burst up the stairs from the depths of the hold. “In a moment we understood that the situation was desperate, that the compartments had refused to hold back the rush of water.”25 The order went out that women and children were to go to the promenade on A Deck. As Second Officer Herbert Lightoller loaded lifeboat No. 6 he “...could hear the band playing cheery sort of music. I don’t like jazz music as a rule, but I was glad to hear it that night. I think it helped us all.”26 American philanthropist Margaret Brown was in lifeboat No. 6. As the boat was lowered she was “...conscious of strains of music being wafted on the night air....”27 By 1:45 a.m. the musicians had put on their lifebelts and continued to play. Meanwhile, the scene was unfolding like a bad dream. The women and children were separated from the men. Lifeboats were loaded and lowered, many with empty spaces. And the band kept playing. They played beyond the point of hope for sur- vival. William Sloper recalled, “Some of the rescued people who were the last to leave the ship told me that when they left the orchestra was playing...and that it was brave but ghastly to hear them.”28 Captain Smith released the wireless operators from duty at 2:10 a.m. Harold Bride struggled with other men to disentangle one of the last collapsible lifeboats. At 2:17 the bow was awash and the lifeboat floated free upside-down with Bride on top. “She was a beautiful sight then,” he remembered looking back at the ship. “Smoke and sparks were rushing out of her funnel.... The ship was gradually turning on her nose.... The band was still playing. I guess all of the band went down. They were playing Autumn then.”29 At least two men who went down with the ship (and survived) noticed that the band had stopped playing moments before the final plunge: “...when I first came on JANUARY/FEBRUARY 2012 CLAVIER COMPANION 27