“The last person I remember seeing was Colonel Astor. When he had been told by the captain that it would be impossible for the husbands to take to the boats with their wives, he took Mrs. Astor by the arm and they walked quietly away to the other side of the vessel. As we pulled away I saw him leaning tenderly over her, evidently whispering words of comfort.
“There were thirty-five persons in the boats in which the captain placed me. Three of these were ordinary seamen, supposed to manage the boat, and a steward.
“One of these men seemed to think that we should not start from the sinking ship until it could be learned whether the other boats would accommodate the rest of the women. He seemed to think that more could be crowded into ours, if necessary.
“‘I would rather go back and go down with the ship than leave under these circumstances,’ he cried.
ORDERED TO PULL FOR THE LIGHT.
“The captain shouted to him to obey orders and to pull for a little light that could be just discerned miles in the distance. I do not know what this little light was. It may have been a passing fishing vessel, which, of course, could not know our predicament. Anyway, we never reached it.
“We rowed all night. I took an oar and sat beside the Countess de Rothes. Her maid had an oar and so did mine. The air was freezing cold, and it was not long before the only man that appeared to know anything about rowing commenced to complain that his hands were freezing.
“A woman back of him handed him a shawl from about her shoulders.
“As we rowed we looked back at the lights of the Titanic. There was not a sound from her, only the lights began to get lower and lower, and finally she sank. Then we heard a muffled explosion and a dull roar caused by the great suction of water.
“There was not a drop of water on our boat. The last minute before our boat was launched Captain Smith threw a bag of bread aboard. I took the precaution of taking a good drink of water before we started, so I suffered no inconvenience from thirst.