Kenosha telegraph. [volume] (Kenosha, Wis.) 1850-1854, 1853-06-10
c FL A n CE RESC UED /;
OR
THE OCEAN RBAvED.

past three years, will recolIect with what adj
miration they stood before the window of a
picture dealer and frame manufacturer in
Court Street and gazed upon one of Drew's
beautiful marine pieces, where in the midst
OF wild, terrible storm at sea, dismasted
and water logged ship is seen, with the mad,
tempest-driyen waves dashing over her, and
some fifteen wretched human beings (anong
them three felnales) are clinging to the wreck
for life.
Near the disabled ship lies, hove to, mag
nigcent Baltimore-built barque, under the
smallest possible amount of sail, while, almost
down to the wreck, is seen tiny boat, man
ned by six brave fellows, in red flannel shirts,
canvass trousers, and tarpaulin hats, bending
as if their own lives depended upon every
stroke, to their supple oak blades, and sending
their gallant little craft climbing up the foam
wreathed hillside, or plunging headlong
down the liquid ravine, despite the bowling
blast and mad yelling surges.
In the stern sheets of the boat, stands a
tall, athletic figure, his eyes which you can
see the color of, even in the distance, fairly
flash with excitement; while in his shirt
sleeves, his arms barred to the elbow, his hair
streaming out like ten thousand tiny pen
nants, his right hand grasping the boats helm
with a fierceness that causes the brawny mus
Giles to stand out in relief like writhing SER
penis, and his left outstretched, is waved to-
ward the sufferers of the wreck in the act of
encouragement.
A thousand-perhaps ten thousand times
the question has been asked as people stood
there, before that window, gazing upon the
almost living, breathing picture, Who are
they? What does the painting represent? {"
and the answer has been, a don't know"
Reader, let me whisper to you, that each
face in that boat is portrait, and most
capital one too. That of the tall man in the
stern sheets, as good likeness as painter
ever executed.
Shall | tell you that saw the original of
that picture? that l stood upon the deck of
that gallant American bark, and watched with
all woman's eagerness and dread, with all a
wife's apprehension, that brave boat and her
heroic crew, as they went struggling on, bat
| Ting with the mighty elements, and winning
their way inch by inch, till the wreck was
gained and her passengers rescued.
| l will inform you that the commander of
that American bark, the man at the helm of
the venturous boat, was and is, my husband.
Strange! you would say; but it is not We
ry. No more strange than that should have
been another mans wife, or that some one
else than my husband should have rescued
those fifteen human beings from certain and
speedy death. There is much stranger fea-
ture in the incident, which, if you have the
patience and curiosity generally attributed to
| story readers, you will listen attentlyely to,
while | relate it in as few words as possible.
twas in the latter part of December, le49,
when we left Buenos Ayres in the superb
bark Madonna, bound for Boston. 1t was
most lovely weather; but to those much con-
versant with the tickle, changing atmosphere
of the ocean-ike Rio de la Plata-there
were ample signs af an approaching storm.
My husband was much too cautious a ma
vigator, and far too experienced cruiser in
these ATTITUDES, to neglect SO palpable warnings
AS We're given us in hundred WAYS that to
the inexperienced would have been unnoticed,
or noticed UNDECIDED; so that by the time we
reached Point Indio, at daylight on the NOR
ming after we left the city, the bark was I'M
der close-reefed top-sais, all her light spars
sent down, the gear unrove, everything mo-
vable on deck secured with extra fastenings
and, in short, every precaution that nautical
skill or prudence could dictate, had been Ia
ken to secure the Madonna against an ele-
mental surprise.
1t was well the precautions were TAKEN for
within twenty minutes after the captain had
pronounced every thing ship-shape, and just
as the men were getting their breakfasts at
the galley, one of those wild, yelling lorna
dos so peculiar to the River Platte, burst up
on us in all its mad wrath, without one mo-
ments warning, and like the feet courser pre-
pared for the race, away flew the swift-wing-
ed craft, feet as the flight of the startled an
telope.
For three whole days and nights we scud
before the yelling pampero, dashing away
with all sail, save our close-reefed main top-sail
and fore-top-mast stav-sail close -furled; fairly
" kissing on through the flashing brine-not
toward home, for the gale was w. S. w, and
our course dead before it, was now E. n. E. :;
four points further to the eastward than we
should have steered in fine weather But
there was direct Providence in the storm
that was hurrying us on, right out into the
very heart of the great South Atlantic.
We were sitting at breakfast on the morn
ing of the fourth day after the storm came on,
when we were suddenly startled by the cry
of "wreck, no. from the second mate. who
a moment afterward put his head down the
companion way and said there was wreck
off our starboard bow.
Following my husband on deck, we obser-
we'd the disabled vessel, apparently medium
sized ship, totally dismasted, and very low in
the water, about three miles distant, and some
two points off of our starboard bow.
As soon as he had assured himself that
there were people on the wreck, our captain
called all hands aft, and after changing our
vessels course so as to head for the wreck. he
inquired of the chief mate if he would volun-
teer to lin the boat and try to save the suf-
ferers.
Not |, sir" replied the officer, half sulkily.
You might as well ask me to jump over
board whit three thirty 1.-TWO pound shot strung
about my neck for heads M No eantaip