Wauwatosa news. [volume] (Wauwatosa, Wis.) 1900-1948, 1913-05-09

| West Indian hurricane the most Sc,
| we're in the history of Hatteras."
But whatever the speed may have
| been. it was enough to beat the sea
into submission, to raise it in the air
and carry II completely over the mar
| row neck CT barren sand which sep
arates Pamlico sound from the At
Iantic ocean, and ample enough to
| sweep the barkentine Priscilla, out OF
Baltimore for Rio, with a general
cargo. far out of the gulf stream, into
the saw teeth" of Hatteras and to-
ward the inbospitable shore.
a Helpless Bit of Wood.
On the 10th of August, 1893, the
gale, not yet at its height, became SO
violent that Captain Springsteen furl-
ed his spanker and upper topsail, But
this was of little avail. The foresail
was hauled up and furled, two reefs
put with infinite difficulty in the main
sail and the lower topsail clewed up,
only to be torn bodily from its spars.
Next the mainsail ripped away,
flying blotch of dirty white in dead
~ smother of grayish spume; few
minutes later and the mainstaysail
followed suit.
Then the Priscilla hove to under
bare poles, helpless and strengthless,
unable to put forth the smallest rag
which might lend steerage-way suffi-
cient to clear Cape Hatteras. jutting
out there to the west and south, I'M
seen. but terribly we'll known and
feared
Thursday, the 18th. came. 1t could
not be said to dawn, for the increase
In the light was small. Sky there was
none, clouds there were none, sea
there was none to the eye. A dread
full dirty gray encompassed all Where
air left off and water began was not
to be told by looking. and so full was
the air of spray and spume and froth
and water that breathing itself was
! difficult
But now and then a hole, torn In
the flying spindrift by an eddy In the
blast, showed Whitewater discol-
ored, a sickiy green with yellow
splotches Of stirred up sand, instead
of the deep emerald black of the
ocean, telling the master, the eleven
men Of his crew, and even his wife
and little son, that they were out of
the gulf stream and over the shoals
which make the graveyard of the
Atlantic" the spot where more ships
have gone to their last restingplace
than on any other three.
The lead was cast at one hour in
tervals. Thirty fathoms at FIVE in the
morning, twenty-five fathoms at six,
twenty fathoms at eight--so it went
all day until at eight bells twenty
fathoms showed.
"Then," said the master, 81 did not
sound any more. knew'we were go.
Ing forward for all hands to prepare
to go each man for himself"
1t was but little later that the
Priscilla struck, bounded off, tossed a
little while on seas mountain high,
climbing a dead weight, one minute
to coast down terrible slide the
next--then struck again with a ter
rife impact, breaking all glass ports
and flooding the cabin. The port rig.
ging was cut away to let the masts
go. They fell instantly with a crash,
heard even above the roar of the
hundred-mile gale. Instantly the seas
began to sweep the doomed vessel,
breaking twenty, thirty feet above the
stumps of her masts.
Mrs. SprIngsteen was swept over
board first, her cry cut short by a
breaking wave. The little boy went
next-literally torn from his fathers
arms. BY one of those freaks of the
sea which are beyond explaining, he
was swept far overheard and back
again the next minute, and into the
cabin, from whence his lifeless body
later came ashore. The ships boy
was the next and last TO go. The
men. with their greater strength, were
able to hold on or tie themselves
down, and the writhing sea had to re-
sort to other means to get the rest oil
its victims
Nor had the despairing sailors long
to wait No structure of wood, be it
ever so stanch. could long resist the
heavy bombardment. of tons Of water
and being picked up and dashed down
on the sandy shoals beneath. Less
, than half an hour later the hull broke
. in two, the bow to disintegrate and
, disappear almost instantly, the after
half, on which the ten survivors were
congregated, to dash on toward the
unseen shore. For more than five
hours this situation continued, the
, captain. grief-stricken at his loss. and
the crew, resigned to their fate, cling
ing to the wreck.
, AT last the wreck struck for the
d last time, the grinding and the smash
!, Ing stopped, and those on board knew
= that somewhere ahead OF them, could
they but see it, was the shore.
But they never hoped to reach 1t