The event I am about to relate, happened
many years ago; but I have often heard it mentioned
by those to whom all the circumstances were well known;
and when listening to this story, I have often thought
that there is enough of interest attached to many
events which took place during the period of the early
settlement of that portion of Eastern Canada which
borders on the River St. Francis, to fill volumes,
were they recorded.
The morning had been clear and pleasant,
but early in the afternoon the sky became overcast
with dark clouds, and for several hours the snow fell
unceasingly, and now the darkness of night was added
to the gloomy scene. As the night set in, the
snow continued to fall in a thick shower, and a strong
easterly wind arose, which filled the air with one
blinding cloud of drifting snow; and the lights in
the scattered habitations, in the then primitive settlement
of D. could scarcely be distinguished amid the thick
darkness. It was a fearful night to be abroad
upon that lonely and almost impassible road; and Mrs.
W. fully realized the peril to which her husband was
exposed on that inclement night. He had set out
that morning, on foot, to visit a friend, who resided
at a distance of several miles, intending to return
to his home at an early hour in the evening.
It was a lonely road over which he had to pass; the
habitations were few and far between, and as the storm
increased with the approach of night. Mrs. W.
strongly hoped that her husband had been persuaded
to pass the night with his friend; for she feared
that, had he been overtaken by the darkness of night,
he would perish in the storm; and the poor woman was
in a state of painful anxiety and suspense. The
supper-table was spread, but Mrs. W. was unable to
taste food; and, giving the children their suppers,
she awaited with intense anxiety the return of her
husband. The storm increased till it was evident
that it was one of unusual severity, even for the
rigorous climate of Canada, and, as the wind shook
the windows of their dwelling, the children often
exclaimed in tones of terror: “O! what
will become of poor father if he is out in this storm.”
Bye-and-bye the tired children fell asleep, and Mrs.
W. was left alone by her fireside. She endeavoured
to quiet her fears by thinking him safe in the house
of his friend, but she could not drive away the thought
that he had set out upon his return home, and she
feared, if such was the case, he had met his death
in that pitiless storm. She was two miles from
any neighbour, surrounded by her family of young children;
so all she could do was to wait and watch as the hours
wore on. Sleep was out of the question, and the
dawn of day found her still keeping her lonely vigil.
As the Sun rose the wind calmed, but the thick drifts
of snow rendered it impossible for her to leave the
house, and she watched anxiously if any one might
chances to pass, to whom she could apply for assistance
in gaining tidings of her husband. Alas! her
fears of the previous night were but too well founded.
He had perished in the storm. His friend
tried his utmost to persuade him to remain for the
night when the storm began, but he was anxious to
return to his home, fearing the anxiety of his family:
and he left his friend’s house about four o’clock
in the afternoon. The weather was intensely cold,
as well as stormy, and, owing to the depth of snow
which had already fallen, he could make but slow progress,
and, when overtaken by darkness and the increasing
tempest, benumbed with cold, and blinded by the whirling
drifts of snow, he sank down by the road side to die,
and the suspense of his wife was at length relieved
by the painful certainty of his fate.
About noon on the day succeeding the
storm, as Dr S. was slowly urging his horse onward,
in order to Visit a patient who resided in the vicinity,
he observed some object lying almost concealed in the
snow. Stopping his horse, he left his sleigh
to examine it, and was horrorstruck to find it the
body of a man. Thinking that, possibly, life
was not extinct, he took the body into his sleigh,
and made all possible haste to the nearest dwelling,
where every means was used for the recovery of Mr.
W.; but all was of no avail, he was frozen to death.
It was the kind physician himself who first bore the
sad tidings to Mrs. W. When the lifeless body of the
husband and father was borne to his own dwelling,
I have heard the scene described by those who witnessed
it, as most heart-rending. On the day of his
burial the settlers in the vicinity came from a long
distance to pay their last tribute of respect to one
who had been much esteemed as a friend and neighbour.
The widow of Mr. W. is still living, but she now is
of a very advanced age. His children grew up
and settled in various places, and the elder ones among
them retained a distinct recollection of the sad death
of their father.