'Dark Day' frightens residents - Glimpses of the Past with Karen Webster

What conclusions might come to mind when the unexplainable occurs?

 

It was with a sigh of relief that Henry “Jackson” Wightman of the 7th Concession of East Wawanosh turned his team toward the farmhouse when his mother called him in for dinner. It wasn’t that he disliked the chore of plowing the field, in fact the solitude gave him time to think, but he found the day to be particularly warm for the first week of September. 

 

Jackson took the team into the barn, brushed them down and gave them their ration of energy-boosting oats before heading to the pump in the yard to wash off the grime and sweat. After his meal, he headed to the barn and lay down on some straw for his customary nap before taking to the field once more. When he awoke, he found the day becoming dark and was startled to believe that he had slept away the whole afternoon. A quick trip to the house to look at the clock there left him puzzled because he had only slept for his customary 20 minutes. He wasn’t the only creature unsure of what was going on: the crickets started their evening chirping and the birds settled in as for night time.

 

Just west of Dungannon, 22-year-old Isabel (Belle), daughter of William and Elizabeth Maize, had risen that morning looking forward to her wedding that was to be that afternoon at her parents’ home, as was the custom of the day. When the afternoon descended into darkness, Rev. James Caswell, the Methodist minister in Dungannon, sent word that he would not be able to come to officiate. Belle and her fiancé, William Kaiser, decided if the world was coming to an end, then they wished to be wed anyway so they walked to the village and thus were married there. They went on to share almost 40 years of wedded life, first living on the 4th Concession of Ashfield for several years and then moving to York County. 

 

On that momentous day, Benjamin Augustine of Lot 7 Concession 5 East Division in Ashfield was attempting to burn brush, a common task as he, like many others, was clearing bush away to gain cropland. He remarked that the fire didn’t seem to burn right and that the smoke did not rise as usual, so he abandoned the chore. His three daughters were in the local schoolhouse where the teacher had taken the class outdoors to have better light there than they had indoors. When the darkness only deepened, she sent her charges home. The Augustine family went across the road to the home of the Harris family where the adults there also concluded that the world was in its end day. Mr. Harris read from the Bible and the families sang hymns. Mrs. Harris served supper, but there was little appetite for it.

 

Three men of the Hackett family of Lot 9 Concession 11 Ashfield East Division had set out that day with two wagonloads of hemlock bark that was destined for a tannery. When they reached what is now Highway 86, they were unable to see two feet in front of them, so they unhitched the wagons, left them on the side of the road and let the horses take them back home.
In Goderich, many people gathered around The Square. Each had their own version of what was happening and all were concerned.

 

Along with the darkness that occurred, there was also a reddish glow in the western sky. At about 3 p.m. a grey, gritty rain started and that revealed to the apprehensive folks that ash and cinders were the cause. It was then surmised that a forest fire was the cause of the strange phenomenon.

 

In fact, there were massive fires in the “Thumb” region of Michigan. The fires were concentrated in the counties of Sanilac, Lapeer, Tuscola and Huron in an area of Michigan across Lake Huron that is only 75 kilometres (50 miles) west of Ontario’s Huron County. A prolonged drought, coupled with high winds and high temperatures, fed the fury of the inferno that burned over one million acres of trees in one day. There were 282 recorded deaths, but it was thought that others may also have perished. While Southern Ontario experienced a Dark Day on Sept. 5 as a result, the New England states were under a yellow sky by Sept. 6.

 

When the rain started to fall, the exteriors of buildings became quite grimy and laundry hung out on a line suffered the same fate. Any sheep that were outside during the event ended up with wool that was stained a dark grey. The rain, mixed with ash, produced lye, a very caustic substance. People in the Jamestown area reported that the Maitland River was the scene of thousands of dead fish floating on the surface of the water. These fish were retrieved from the waters and riverbanks and then spread on fields for fertilizer. Oldtimers remarked that the rivers and streams never again abounded with as many fish as had been the case before the Dark Day.

 

In 2026, communication around the world is almost instantaneous but in 1881 the unknown caused much fear and speculation. The Dark Day was one that the people who lived through it never forgot.

 

Information for this column has been gleaned from a letter, written in 1956, by Jackson Wightman’s son, Gordon, the Dungannon Women’s Institute history book, Bush Trails to Present Tales and from the files of the Digitized Newspapers site of the Huron County Museum.