The democrat. [volume] (Weston, W. Va.) 1868-1874, 1874-06-01

hhtefpt utBluuluB WIN tub WIG anu
daughter OF Livingstone Bartlett, who
were the first to fall victims to the
flood, and ending, perhaps, with the
little boy whose body / saw dragged
out from the meadows below Leeds.
HAYDESsy1L1R.
1pointed moment ago to Haydens.
vile as the Poma Bridge Of Charles
Reade's story. It is the village in the
centre Of the valley. Immediately DO.
lowit is Leeds above it is Williams
burg. II was a beautiful village.
William SINNERS silk mill, which was
inst below the Williamsburg depot,
marked the dividing line between it
and its neighbor village. The mill is
gone to the last brick, and the elegant
mansion OF its proprietor Is the shat.
tered monument OF what this man had
wrought. The operatives at first re-
garded tho story OF the coming flood as
o joke, and it was not until the mill
and many houses near it were swept
away-not until tue flood had come and
almost gone that they awoke to the
terrible reality.
Onward swept the waters, and the
mill Of Hayden Zero & %. was also
swept away, aud with 1t the savings
bank, where some foolhardy people had
ensconcel themselves to witness and
watch the flood. AT this point tho
river was walled with solid masonry,
but the walls we're uprooted and the
huge stones which composed them were
tossed about like so many pebbles
dropped into an eddying current. On
the high ground above Is the house OF
Joel Hayden, built by thelate Governor
Hayden, where the boiler from the mill
now lies on the lawn. Other residences
equally elegant stand in line with IL,
and though they remain, every tree in
front OF them which was not swept
away is Embedded in immense masses
OF debris where, perhaps, some OF the
undiscovered bodies are buried. On
the other side OF tho river the banks
wero not so high, and nearly everything
won't with the flood, o line OF rubbish
on the hillside marking the height
which the waters reached. And so
rolled the food on through Leeds, con.
tinuing its work Of destruction till its
force was weakened in the meadows
above Florence. Thus weakened, on
and on 1t went till the Connecticut
swallowed 1t and all that came with it,
calmly vanquishing what u moment be-
fore had been d giant, My imagination
has been so much impressed by what l
witnessed coming here-the desolated
valley, the ruined buildings, the houses
filed with the dead, the vehicles bear.
ing tho disfgured bodies Of tho victims,
the possibilities Of almost impossible
revelations OF disaster and death-that
cannot overlook the scene upon which
my eyes have rested without emotions
which come to few men in the course
OF long lifetime. This Is no ordinary
scene, oven to ono who has seen death
in every shape. II is worse than a bat.
tie field where tho carnage has been
terrible, for here most OF tho victims
have been women and children, too
weak to run from the death that over
took them. II was mn overwhelming
torrent, rushing through peaceful val.
ley and showing itself messenger OF
destruction, which claimed first Of all
what was choicest and best. That val.
Icy, once noted for It's industry, and
now historic from lis calamity, is before
me, and its woes may DO seen wherever
the eyes chance to rest. Williamsburg,
Haydeusville, Leeds are the names OF
one common misfortune which could
not have happened il q few men, con.
sidered the safest and best in the COM
munity, had guarded us carefully their
own interests and the lives OF their
operatives as they had shrewdly carved
fortunes out OF nothing.
TOUCHING INCIDENTS.
And, again, the disaster was full OF
incidents, it could not be otherwise
where the story OF every victim was q
tragedy scarcely less terrible than the
crimes OF the French Revolution. The
account of Henry Tilton bearing his
mother and his little son to place OF
safety, but escaping, while both Of
those he loved were swept away, Is more
pathetic than Virgil's legend Of d1neas
bearing Anchises upon his shoulders
from ruined Troy-more dramatic than
Henry Little's struggle with the Hills
boro' flood for the safety OF Grace Chr.
den. But in the next breath we are told
that COW hoated down from Williams
burg to Florence, and escaped with
only n broken horn. Poet never wrote
anything finer in conception or truer to
the grand aud overpowering impulses
Of mothers heart and mother's love
than is contained in the lament OF the
poor Irish woman who lost her husband
but saved her crippled child only to lose
him also by subsequent accident
which befell him while they werc bear.
ing him to q place OF safety. "oh |"
cried she, "that 1 should live to sec
this night An tho boy cried to nc,
Sure you won't leave me, mother, to
DO carried in the flood i an rushed
and snatched him out OF bed, and got
out between the houses, and, as God
hears me, couldn't get farther, an I
stood there, an the boy in my arms,
an the water going over me. And /
was knocked from here wild timber
that hit mo on my leg and again in the
breast, but I'm alive and I saved the
boy, but he'll die the mornin', an the
mans gone. Edwards gone Oh, but
for the rainy morning, he'd been here
OF work and saved Oh, my darling,
my darling, God help usl"
No pen, save Victor. Hugo's, flushed
with describing the horrors Of La Ven
dec, can adequately describe this disas-
ter. Among calamities 1t Is epic in oil
its phases. / can only survey the field
over which the mad waters rushed in
their fury and think that IL / Ind time