The daily Argus. (Rock Island, Ill.) 1873-1877, 1874-05-19
The Mill River Disaster.

The ride of that gallant horseman from
the Goshen Hills down into the pleasant
Connecticut Valley, on the morning Of the
terrible Mill River catastrophe, is almost
unparalleled in the records of disaster and
destruction. 1t was a race with death in
its most violent and irresistible FORM
more fearful than the fire. for it travelled
faster, and more fearful than the cyclone,
because it spared nothing which stood in
the way of its dense and huge bulk. The
story of this ride reads like page taken
from some strange tale of fiction, and the
reader invariably recalls the ride of the
horseman from Boston to Lexington in the
early gray OF morning to call the farmers
to arms of the gloomy ride of the Fri
King and the child; of the tramp of the
Wild Huntsman of the gallant feat of
Roland as he carried the news from AK to
Client; of Sheridan S ride down the Valley
OF Winchester of the ride of Charles
Reade's hOrseman in front of a bursting
dam in the novel Put Yourself in His
Place" and of Victor Hugo unearthyrush
and sweep of the Djinns But none these
possess that thrilling human interest which
centres about this gallant hOrseman in his
race with death 1t was not his own life
that was at stake. There were hundreds
Of men, women, and children down in the
valley, commencing the labors of the day,
in the pleasant little manufacturing towns,
all unaware of the monster that was tear
ing its way along towards them at railroad
speed. There was no time to halt or par
ley. There was no ray OF hope for them,
unless the rider could get to them before
the flood, which was every Instant gather
ing volume and momentum, and increasing
its own immense weight and gathering
power with trees, and logs, and rails, and
all kinds of deadly debris, as it plunged
down the 3-mile decliyity. He rode like
the wind, with the torrent roaring behind
him, eager for its victims, and sweeping
everything away in its course The steed
was worthy of his rider, and gave his own
life to save those of others, but the horse
man mounted a fresh one, and was of
again to other villages. 1t was a gallant
contest with death, and, though 100 or 2OC
poor victims were washed away like
feathers by the terrible flood, and
houses, mills, bridges, and trees disappear
ed like grass before the scythe, yet he
saved the lives of hundreds, who, but fol-
his determination and clear grit, would alsc
have been swallowed up. He rode for tn,
lives OF others, and he Outrode death il
the race. Had he been beaten, no human
being would have been left in the swat
cut through the valley by the torrent.
There Is, however, no disaster so grea
but that it suggests contingencies in which
it might have been more terrible,-no ca
tastrophe SO dire but there are compensa
tons connected with it which inspire feel
ing of gratitude. 1t is appalling to thinl
what the consequences might have been
a less decided and energetic man had bee,
on guard, or one who would have lost hi
presence of mind in the face of the terri
BILE danger confronting him. 1t is sti
more appalling to reflect upon the conse
quences which would have ensued had tn
treacherous dam given way in the darkness
OF the night when it would have been In
possible to have aroused the sleepers in tn
villages below in time to have saved then
AS it was, in the broad daylight, he ha
handy time to warn people of their dau
ger before the food was upon them. Ha
such contingency happened, not one sor
would have been left in the three village,
Although the reports are confiicting. IN
most trustworthy dispatches fix the caus
Oh TINS disaster very Enthusiastically. Their
can be no doubt that it was owing to Grin
mai carelessness ia the construction of ~
Ffeesservoir, growing out of the practice of
- economy, and equally criminal negl