Fragments Of The Past
Death caused by intemperance From The Stanstead Journal, May 3, 1876:
Dr. Paget, of Stanstead, died very suddenly at Studdert’s Hotel where he resided. He had been on one of his periodic drinking bouts and was a good deal under the influence of liquor during the day, driving about the streets, etc. Between 11 and 12 o’clock he endeavoured to get liquor at Studdert’s, but being refused, became noisy and was taken to his room by Mr. Studdert, who advised his to go to bed. He lay down on his bed and a short time afterward, Mrs. Paget found him dying.
She gave the alarm, but he died almost instantly. An inquest was held at which it was determined that death was caused by the intemperate use of intoxleating liquors.
Ellen Studdert, the proprietor’s daughter, was said to be a famous beauty. She kept a milliner’s shop in the north end of the hotel and at her establishment, Mrs. Aikens and Miss Colby sometimes purchased their hats. From Vital Statistics (1876-1890):
At Stanstead, September 30, 1879, of hemorrhage (sic), Joseph H. Studdert hotel keeper, aged 43 years. The story of mud and death A letter to the Stanstead Journal of April 6, 1844, reads in part: Mr. Patton one day stood on the sidewalk in front of our house and told me of his early experiences. He said the mud in Stanstead street was either three or six feet deep. Building was very brisk up the street and they hauled loads of lumber and stone through this mud with twelve yokes of oxen on each wagon. I may have exaggerated slightly about the depth of the mud, but I won’t eliminate an oxen – not one!
Now I would like to tell something I heard out in Chicago about the early days in Stanstead. There was an old man by the name of Adams who told me he lived at Stanstead, and that he saw the stage come in from Boston on a cold winter day. Four horses trotted up the street; they came to the old hotel at the upper end of the Plain, swung a wide circle around the door of the hotel and stopped. The hostlers came out and the men came out from the hotel, but the driver didn’t dismount. He was dead, frozen stiff.
I have often thought of those horses trotting up the street and swinging around to the hotel without being reined.
To be continued