The democrat. [volume] (Weston, W. Va.) 1868-1874, 1874-06-01
THE VALE OF DEATH.
Alter the MN River Dlsastsr-.A Tariff
Ing Picture OF the Sad Scene,

spondent from the Mill River Valley,
Massachusetts,, a bird's-eye view OF the
vale Of devastation. AT my feet is the
bottom OF the reservoir itself, black,
CHASTITY and menacing. The very
stumps which lift themselves above the
dark p;ass Of sediment seem to mock at
the desolation Of the valley below and
ct those who come TO look on the
source OF the disaster. There arc hills
all around except where the brook,
which now meanders quietly through
the black bed to the lake, finds IN out.
let 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 q part Of tho
wall as it originally stood. At the bot
tom straight line OF masonry even
with the bed shows the base OF the wall
from side to side. Seen from the hill
above it looks very narrow, and actual
measurement shows that in its strongest
part 1t was only FIVE feet nine inches
wide. The width gradually diminished,
and at the summit 1t was scarcely wider
than IN ordinary stone fence. Most
prison walls are stronger in every way
than this dam, which held prisoner for
nine years 1876 acres OF water. Belowthe
dam is o narrow gorge, extending from
the reservoir TO Williamsburg, and
almost in an instant the dixie gave way
and tho unclaimed waters went rushing
in wrath and fury down this narrow de.
file, heralded only by o flying horse
man, who bore the tidings Of impending
destruction and death to the doomed
villagers below the deflle.
THE FEARFUL FLOOD.
The scene which followed battles de.
scription. It was awful beyond the
power OF words to describe. No i'm
agination short oil Dore's wonderful
conceptions of the terrible could guide
the brush which would put It upon
canvas. The only account OF q like
disaster which approaches 1t in its
awful sublimity Ii Charles Reade's
story Of the breaking awayof the Hills
boro' dam in "Put Yourself In His
Place" Even TINT account, once 80
vivid 10 my Imagination, is dull and
tamo TO me now-inane, indeed, after
seeing what l saw in the chain Of vii.
lagos through which sadly and labori.
ously struggled TO reach this spot. Yet
in many respects the two disasters aro
wonderfully like. There was the same
parleying over tho question whether the
dam would give way, the same playing
with danger till the flood was on its
way. George Cheney, dashing down
the narrow defile 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 tho reception that was also
accorded tho messenger Of death OF
Reaae's Imagination. The analogy did
not cease even with this, and Haydens.
Vile is to-day the counterpart Of Poma
Bridge. Never were two tales so
marvclously similar. And in tho one
case as in the other the mad waters
were upon the operatives before their
dull sense Of the awful danger enabled
many OF them to comprehend the i'm
pending disaster and to escape from it.
Williamsburg had ten minutes to pre-.
pare, and Williamsburg mourns sixty
dead. Haydensville had four minutes,
and it gave forty victims to tho food.
Leeds had only two minutes, and fifty
lifelcss forms were buried in the debris,
dashed against the hillsides, and
strewn over the meadows above
Florence. s.
THE SCENE OF DEsoIAT1oS.
On the spot where stand I can SEQ
the black bed OF the reservoir, tile
abutments which remain Of the broken
dam, and the wild gorge through which
the waters rushed on their WY to the
villages which stretch before me in the
misty distance. Though called by DIFF
ferent names they IRE, in fact, one town
"a chain Of villages stretching all the
WY from Northampton to Williams.
burg, ut the opening Of the gorge.
Much OF the latter place still remains,
the town hall being the middle Of q
hamlet left untouched by the waters
Smiling over it in tho sunlight i saw
the village cemetery, It's green sward
yawning with opening graves. A little
farther to the east, aud closely hugging
the eastern hills, the work OF death aud
desolation begun. Here the bed OF the
stream is lost, and for mile below the
waters percolate in 1000 rills through
as many channels till they come togeth.
er again Just above Haydensville. The
roadbed is gone, and for two days long
lines OF vehicles have been slowly find.
ing their way through the submerged
meadows where the mills and dwellings
stood. The depot is n milo below, and
all above il is a 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 tho houses and
mills, as well as the buildings, have
disappeared. Surveys based upon old
title deeds will be necessary TO deter.
mine what is whose, and where the old
landmarks were. Maps are OF no use
TO a visitor like me, for where 1 sec
houses marked on the page / behold
only desolation in the valley. Here is
q house toppled over on its side, but
whore it was or whence it came know
not. There is structure tossed about
by the food till it was leitwith the roof
oil the ground. But most OF the build
ings 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 ont TO the sea. go
THE FORCE OF THE WATERS.
And even the earth, tho ground, the
hanka mr. the onnolnrnnrntat f1nRaag which