Snow on the fields, on the hills and in the valleys. Snow on the
house-tops and in the crevices. White, soft, dazzling snow.
The scene without was lovely beyond description. The trees weighted
down with their crown of glory. But within, the inmates of the farm
were comparatively prisoners.
"My dear," the mother said to her husband, "Lydia is full of sorrow.
Her thoughts are far from her works; I fear for her unless something
can be done to draw her mind from her trouble."
"Well, wife, these things are beyond our power Lydia will be all right
in time."
"Pray God it may be so," she fervently replied.
In February, 1833, a young man who had been reared near Lydia's
birthplace, by the name of Nikerson, paid a visit to the Goldthwaits.
In reply to their friendly questions, he told them he had settled in
Upper Canada, had married the finest little woman in the kingdom, and
was getting wealthy at merchandizing.
"What ails Lydia?" he asked one day.
"She is ill and full of sorrow." And then the sad story was told. And
at its close, the young man sat silent for some time with tears of
sympathy in his eyes for the poor young creature.
Finally, looking up, he said: "I'll tell you what, Mrs. Goldthwait,
let me take that girl home with me, and I'll warrant my wife and I
will bring back the roses to her cheeks, if kindness and comfort can
do it. Don't you think a change of scenery and travel, with all its
distractions, will occupy her mind to the exclusion of other things?"
"I am sure the change of climate would be of benefit, if we could get
father and Lydia to consent to it," replied the mother. So after much
consultation, it was arranged that when Mr. Nickerson returned, Lydia
should go with him.
They started out in the last of February, and traveled by sleigh. The
usual route to Canada, was down to Buffalo, across the Niagra river,
then on up the lake shore. Mr. Nickerson's home was situated about the
middle on the Canada side of the lake some distance from the shore,
and he thought that by crossing the lake on the ice, he would save a
hundred miles travel. They stopped at a hotel about twenty five miles
above Buffalo on the Lake Erie shore, and although told that no one
had ventured to ride over that winter, he was determined to go across.
So one bright sunny morning they started. Fifteen of the twenty miles
were traversed in speed and safety, when lo! they were stopped by a
fissure in the ice about two feet wide, and stretching up and down as
far as the eye could see. The ice was, of course, thin on the edges.
But out, and over the chasm jumped the venturesome young man, and after
stamping around and trying the temper of the frozen floor, he decided
it would be all plain sailing when once across. This determined, he
made a spring for the side where Lydia sat in the sleigh. One, two,
three, over he goes,--but oh, horrible! the ice gives way and down he
goes into the dark, silent waters beneath. Instinctively he threw one
arm out, and resting it on the shelf of ice above him, succeeded in
gradually drawing himself up on the ice. Nothing could turn him from
his purpose, however, and accordingly he unhitched the horse, made him
jump across, pushed the sleigh, with the trembling girl seated in it,
after the horse, jumped over once more himself, and was soon under way
again. Save that his clothes were frozen on him, neither Mr. Nickerson
nor his companion felt any bad effects from their adventure. Reaching a
hotel, they soon warmed and rested. From there to Mount Pleasant, which
was his home, no incident occurred worthy of note.
Arriving at the house, Mrs. Nickerson met the travelers with a hearty
welcome, and in the kind, thoughtful attention of this worthy couple,
the sore heart of the patient girl was soothed and rested. The complete
change of the mode of living, scenery and people had its effect upon
her, and she grew more resigned day by day to her broken life.
The people who lived in the thriving little village were hospitable and
kind. They were mostly Methodists. A man by the name of McIntyre, who
was a class leader, induced Lydia to take a Sunday school class, and
she was much interested in her labors in this direction.
The Spring and Summer came and passed away and Fall came. Few strangers
visited the little village and life passed quietly on.
One day in October, 1833, a wagon load of people stopped at the door,
and great was the surprise of all, when the party proved to be old Mr.,
and Mrs. Nickerson and the youngest son, Levi, who, of course, was
Freeman's brother. They had with them two strange men. But we will let
another chapter tell who and what they were.