18 JUNE 1927, Page 11

Correspondence

A LETTER FROM NE'W ORLEANS.

[To the Editor of the SPECTATOR.] SIR,—New Orleans is sitting high and dry, while all round it lies area devastated by the recent flood. A great American tragedy—probably the worst in its history—has been enacted in the valley lands of the " Father of Waters."

More than half a million people have been made homeless and destitute as the wild Mississippi has swept toward the south. The levees, or embankments, which have been protecting the rich lands along the river, proved unavailing this year ; towns were wiped out of existence, fertile agri- cultural sections inundated, crops ruined, and live stock drowned. Miraculously, the toll of human life was com- paratively low.

A long, winding, snake-like bunk has the Mississippi, and New Orleans is the last city of any size that it must pass before it empties into the Gulf of Mexico. Consequently, the eyes—and the fears—of the nation were focussed at this point. Geographically, the river itself seems to disregard the points of the compass at New Orleans, for it flows north on one side of the bend in which the city is built, while on the other side it flows south. This eccentricity is responsible for New Orleans' title of " The Crescent City."

The river is a monstrous draining ditch, carrying away the waters of thousands of watercourses, both great and small. A huge spillway, one might call it, for the waters of thirty-one out of the forty-eight States of the Union drain into it, and its function is to dispose of the rain water of about 40 per cent. of the area of the whole country, covering some 1,250,000 miles. As a rule, the spring floods in the North occur at different times, and the Mississippi has no difficulty in carrying away the surplus waters. But this year the waters from a dozen great rivers passed into it at the same time, which raised the river a yard above any previously known level. The consequences were unprecedented in the history of the land.

While the waters were sweeping madly toward Louisiana, Orleanians werenot pessimistic over the situation in their city. In the first place, they had implicit confidence in their levees. The first ones had been put up as early as 1717, and were so low that one could look across them. But, as years passed, and the flood menace became greater, so were the levees raised Proportionately, until to-day they are twenty feet or more in height and in some places more than a hundred feet wide. There was a remote danger, maybe, that weak places might be found and water might claim the city. And probably uneasiness was accentuated by a record rainfall of fourteen lathes on Good Friday and the coincident failure of the Pumping stations to operate, owing to a stroke of lightning. This brought water into many parts of the city and started disquieting rumours that New Orleans was under the flood.

Engineers were called into consultation, while workmen raised the lowest spots on the levee with sand bags. Experts Patrolled every foot of levee for possible weak spots, and pressure was brought to bear upon the War Department to inundate the land below the city by means of an artificial breach. For two days the road leading into New Orleans was crowded with incoming humanity and live stock. Trucks, e(airs and wagons belonging to the farmers made repeated trips t temporary refuge, as prized possessions were hastily gathered together.

_A pathetic spectacle, that big parade of the refugees, many or them never before having left the farms which their people

had ploughed for hundreds of years. However, they were given all assurances that they would be fully recompensed for losses, and they philosophically took the brunt of the river's toll to save the city. The processibn was not unlike that of the evacuation of the small towns of Belgium when the peasants fled before the devastating army of the enemy. Many of the coloured refugees were on foot, carrying enormous bundles on their head and crooning old plantation melodies, as they trudged along in the wake of trucks piled mountain high with furniture, bedding, stoves and prized possessions of the natives.

Most of the refugees were sheltered at the army supplies base at the lower end of the city, and volunteer workers were put in charge. Others preferred to camp out in the open air with their stock around them ; they were therefore supplied with tents and living necessities and a small tent colony sprang into existence.

A day was set for the dynamiting of the levee and a volume of water 250,000 cubic-second-feet was let through the opening.

This is the amount of water that passes over the famous Niagara Falls at flood. The pressure was relieved almost immediately with the cutting, and the river kept stationary as the flood crest daily approached.

However, these precautions did not protect the rest of the State from flood; and the first break occurred in what is known as the Tenses Basin, three hundred miles north of New Orleans. To get an idea of the immensity of the inundated area, one Might draw a line round the country lying between London and Folkestone, Bournemouth and Bristol. Picturing such area under twenty-five to thirty-five feet of water gives one at a distance a. visualization of the actual havoc.

Picture another area, drawing a triangle between London, Grantham and Norwich, and one can visualize the extent of the swirling torrent that next inundated the famous " Sugar Bowl " district, where the rich sugar plantations lie. This water broke through barriers and ploughed largely out of the Tenses basin. An added danger was the creeping of backwater into certain sections while workers were madly repairing the weakening ramparts on the river front. A losing fight, for most of the " Sugar Bowl " was inundated.

From New Orleans, a hundred airplanes were sent out to circle the doomed areas, giving warnings to evacuate. carrying vaccine to refugees, acting as Red Cross aides. On the river were thousands of coastguard cutters and surf boats, ready at a moment's notice to go to a stricken section for rescue work. The National Guard was camped on the outskirts of all flooded sections, ready for action, while one unit patrolled the banks of the New Orleans levee. Not for one moment was the levee unguarded ; a constant surveillance being kept up day and night during the danger hours. For twenty-five miles outside the city long chains of electric) lights were strung, and no one save the armed guards were allowed to ascend the levees.

The greatest trouble the rescue workers experienced was the forcing of many farmers to leave their homes. They refused to heed warnings that the flood was coming, preferring to stick to their houses and their stock, expecting that the water would reach only a few feet. For generations, they declared, their people had fought flood conditions, and they would not believe their land was doomed. As the waters crept slowly toward them, after the first mighty crash through the levee, it was hard to make them believe that, like creeping paralysis, tragedy would stalk in the wake of the breach. Consequently, in many cases, people were taken from the roofs of houses, from tree tops, or from bits of floating timber to which they were clinging.

At the time of writing, the river is taking its last toll from the little town of Morgan City. But, as it is sweeping on its way with a final tempestuous gesture into the Gulf, comes the news that permanent relief from disaster is promised, for the United States Army engineers have advised spillways to care for the yearly high waters of the Mississippi, instead of depend- ing solely on the inadequate levee system. These will benefit New Orleans and fhe State incalculably.

Spillways mean permanent protection from high waters, greater commerce. and increased investments in what is known as the garden region of the country. Out of the gloom has come the promise of greater prosperity for everyone living on the banks of the now shackled Mississippi.—I am, Sir, &e.,

1ora NEW ORLEANS CORRESPONDENT.