The New York herald. [volume] (New York [N.Y.]) 1840-1920, 1874-05-19
Scenes Of Sorrow and Sicken-
ing Horror Continued.
HEARTS CRUSHED AND HOPES BLASTED.
Entire Families Swept Away and
Seen No More Of Men.

In the direction OF Mount H0lyOko and Mount TOm
have before me q bird's-eye view Of the vale OF
devastation. At my feet is the bottom OF the
reservoir itself, black, ghasty aud menacing. The
very stumps which lift themselves above the dark
mass Of sediment seem to mock at the desolation
Of the valley below and at those who come to look
on the source OF the disaster. There are hills all
around except where the brook which now mean
ders quietly through the black bed OF the lake. nds
an outlet over the remains OF the dixie. Here
two miniature mountains nearly touch each other,
and were joined together by the wall and dirt OF
the embankment. At each side there Is now
part Of the wall as 1t originally stood. At the
bottom straight line OF masonry even with the
bed shows the base OF the wall from side to side.
Seen from the hill above 1t looks very narrow, ana
actual measurement shows that in it's strongest
part it was only five feet nine inches wide. The
width gradually diminished and at the summit 1t
was scarcely wider than an ordinary stone fence.
Most prison walls are stronger in every way than
this dam, which held prisoner for nine years l25
acres OF water. Below the dam Is narrow gorge,
extending from the reservoir to Williamsburg ana
almost In an instant the dixie gave way and the
unclaimed waters went rushing In wrath and fury
down this narrow defe, heralded only by dying
horseman, who bore the tidings Of impending de-
struetion and death to the doomed villagers below
the defle.
THE FEARFUL FLOOD.
The scene which followed battles description. It
was awful beyond the power OF words to describe.
No imagination short OF Dores wonderful concep-
tons OF the terrible could guide the brush which
would put 1t upon canvas. The only account OF
like disaster which approaches 1t in It's awful SUBJ
Unity Is Charles Reade's story OF the breaking
away OF the Hillsboro dam in ''Put Yourself in His
Place." Even that account, once so vivid to my
imagination. is dull and tame to me now-inane,
nd nC<n =
villages through which sadly and laboriously
struggled reach this spot. Yet in many respects
the two disasters are wonderfully like. There was
the : same parleying over the question
whether the dam would give way, the
same playing with danger till the food was on
Its way. George Cheney, dashjng down the narrow
deffle to Williamsburg has his analogy In Charles
Reade's hero. The disbelief the fright the
paralysis OF terror which met Cheney at the vii
lage Was the reception that was also accorded the
messenger OF death OF Reade's Imagination. The
analogy did not cease even with this and Haydens.
Vile ts to-day the counterpart Of Poma Bridge.
Never were two tales so marvellously similar.
And in the one case as in the other the mad
waters were upon the operatives before their dull
sense Of the awful danger enabled many or them
to comprehend the impending disaster and to
escape from 1t. Williamsburg hal ten minutes to
prepare, and Williamsburg mourns sixty dead.
Haydensville had four minutes, and 1t gave forty
victims to the hood Leeds had only two minutes,
and nifty lielese forms were buried In the debris,
dashed against the hilsides and strewn over the
meadows above Florence.
THE SCENE OF DEsoLArroN.
On the spot where I stand to-day, with pencil In
hand to write these lines. can see the black bed
Of the reservoir which have already described,
the abutments which remain Of the broken dam.
and the Wild gorge through which the waters
rushed on tneir way.to the villages which stretch
before me In the misty distance. Though called by
different names they are, in fact, one town-a
chain Of villages stretching all the way from
Northampton to Williamsburg, ar the opening OF
the gorge. Much of the latter place still remains,
the town hall being the middle Of hamlet left un.
touched by the waters. Smiling over 1t in the
sunlight Of yesterday saw the village cemetery IT'S
green sward yawning with opening graves. To-day
It s grim and gloomy, even terrible, with the rain
pouring down upon the fresh earth OF new-made
graves. But it is only step from what remains
OF the village to the part OF 1t which the flood
swept IN It's blind wrath. little farther to the
east, and closely hugging the eastern hills, the
work OF death and desolation begun. Here the
bed OF the stream is lost and for mile below the
waters percolate In 1000 rills through az many
channels till they come together again just
above Haydensville. The roadbed Is gone, and for
two days long lines OF vehicles have been slowly
finding their way through the submerged meadows
where the mills and dwellings stood. The depot
is mile below, and all above 1t is q waste. on
Saturday the valley was impossible above the
depot. There is no highway even now, and
good road will be the work OF years. The sites
OF the houses and mills, as well as the buildings
have disappeared. Surveys based upon old title
deeds Will De necessary to determine what Is
whose and where the old landmarks were. Maps
are OF no use to visitor like me, for where see
houses marked on the page behold only desola-
lation In the valley. Here Is house toppied over
on Its side, but where 1t was or whence 1t came
know not There Is q structure tossed about BY
the hood TIL 1t was left with the roof on the
ground. But most Of the buildings marked on the
map have not only disappeared but all traces OF
them are gone. Their fragments strew the earth
all the way down the valley, and the Connecticut
has carried much OF the debris out to the sea.
THs FORCE OF THE WATERS
And even the earth. the ground, the banks or
the conglomerate masses which pass for these are
di1cut OF recognition in the elements which consti-
suite them. Great rolls OF cloth are interviewer
with the debris and the SOIL Buttons and ipstru-
ments OF brass and iron and steam boilers and
brick and stone and parts OF buildings and rem
nants Of household furniture are strewn about in.
discriminatory. Everything is everywhere and
nothing can be found. In coming up to NV mount
OF vantage my carriage wheels passed over a
beaten and battered "waiter"-it may have been
of silver for all know. A little further on tnev
ground into fragments triangular piece OF marble
from some fine lady's dressing case. And as I
stand here look down upon this fearful scene OF
desolation too marvellous IN its sudden transfer.
NATION to describe H. and too terrible In Its in
conceivable agony to picture or portray 1t. As far
NJ the eye can REACH tn, story OF waste, OF devas
tstion and death IL only vegied now and then by