“In about thirty minutes all the lower fires were out, and, at the least, there were six feet of water in the ship fore and aft. By this time the confusion amongst the passengers was very great, but they used all efforts to assist the crew to keep the pumps going, and in lightening the ship forward for the purpose of getting at the leak from the inside, which we found to be useless, and numbers of them got into the boats, which were still hanging to the davits. In forty-five minutes after the collision I came up from the forehold, and informed the captain that the water was on a level with the lower deck beams, and that it was impossible to get at the leak. I then asked him what he thought would be the probable fate of the ship, when he stated his belief to me that there was no hope of saving her. He then told me to see to my boats. On going to those on the port side I found them completely filled with men and women, and no possibility of getting near them. I immediately went to the starboard side and ordered two of the crew to lower the guard boat, and asked the captain what his intentions were, who replied that the ship’s fate would be his. I then asked him if he would not allow his son to go with me, as I intended to take a boat, but he returned me the answer that he should share his fate. I then jumped into the boat, and was ordered by the captain to cut away the tackle falls, and drop under the stern. I did so; at which time about twenty persons, as I suppose, jumped overboard, of whom seventeen or eighteen were picked up. I fell in with another boat which had been lowered from the other side, and lightened her of part of her complement, leaving nineteen in her, and twenty-six in my own boat. The last sight we had of the ship her guards were level with the water, and the surface of the sea strewed with human beings, who had jumped or fallen overboard—to whom, however, it was impossible for us to render any assistance; and we soon lost sight of all, as the fog continued very dense. I then asked the boat’s crew whether they were willing to be governed by me, which was unanimously approved, and I was put in complete command of both boats. “We were then about sixty miles S.E. of Cape Race. Deeming it my duty, for the safety of all, I took the nearest course for the land, and, after pulling forty-two hours, with nothing to guide us but the run of the sea, which I took to be heaving from the southward, and in a thick fog which lasted all the time, we reached Broad Cove, some twelve miles North of Cape Race.” The ARCTIC, when she sailed from Liverpool on this ill-fated voyage, had 365 souls on board, of whom only 87 were saved. The hull, machinery, and equipment of this steamship were insured for £115,000, as follows:—Underwritten in the United States, £55,000; in London, £40,000; and in Glasgow, £20,000.