In the winter of 1881 there was very deep snow, and our house was snowed up to a height of several feet, so that before he could open the station father had to dig his way out. No trains ran that day, and only one up and one down on the two succeeding days. After that the line was pretty clear again.
In 1888 father and mother received another fearful blow by the death of my youngest brother, after a very short illness, at his lodgings in Exeter. After this time father never appeared to be very well, and before long his health entirely gave way.
During these years several visitors came to father's observatory, among them Mr. Clifton Lambert, son of the General Manager of the Great Western Railway. This gentleman wrote a sketch of father's life, which was published in three different papers, Wit and Wisdom, June 1889, the Great Western Railway Magazine, September 1889, and in the summer number Western Weekly News, 1894, just one month before he died. Visitors would call at all hours, in the day to see the spots on the sun, and in the evening and at night to see the moon and stars.
For many a year father had been a wonder to the simple country folk. They could not understand a man devoting his spare time to the study of the heavens, for the mere love of science. They had an idea that he could "rule the planets." Father used to say that he was astonished at the amount of superstition prevailing in the minds of all sorts of people, not only the uneducated. Even well-educated people would ask him if he could "rule their planets." He would say that he was ashamed to hear them ask such a question. People would come from long distances in the dead of night to have a look through the telescope. When asked how he had achieved so much, and brought up a large family in respectability, his answer was: "It is through the woman that the Almighty gave me; she has done the most."
It was in March 1894 that I went home to find father suffering from a complaint from which he could not hope to recover. He got gradually worse, and in July I was sent for again to come at once if I wished to see him alive. Mother had done all she could do for him, and I was very much shocked to find him suffering dreadfully. But he was very cheerful, only longing for his sufferings to end. It was a painful time, but as we all gathered around his bed, he often made us laugh by his jokes. Then there were quieter moments when he prayed the Almighty to take him. On the evening before he died, he repeated part of Psalm li. to me and some hymns, and that was the last. He passed peacefully away in the morning.
Through the kindness of Sir Thomas Acland, he was buried in the private burial ground of the Acland family, near his two sons.
So live that thy summons comes to join
The innumerable caravan which moves
To that mysterious realm where each shall take
His chamber in the silent halls of death.
Thou go not, like the quarry slave at night,
Scourged to his dungeon, but sustained and soothed.
By an unfaltering trust, approach thy grave
Like one who wraps the drapery of his couch
About him, and lies down to pleasant dreams.
Speak of me as I am, nothing extenuate, Nor set down aught in malice.