Tragedy at Tilt Cove
Tilt Cove Copper Mine, National Archive UK, Public Domain
Newfoundland weather is unstable at the best of times, and March is not the best of times. In March the island’s weather can vary from warm and sunny to snowy, and bitterly cold. The wild swings can make for some very dangerous conditions, as they did in Tilt Cove in 1912.
It Was Supper Time
On March 11, 1912 winter still held Tilt Cove in its grip.
Postage stamp depicting mining at Tilt Cove
Francis Williams, the manager at the town’s copper mine, had just arrived home for supper. He was thankful to be inside. The weather was terrible. It had gone from freezing rain to heavy snow. The paths around town were buried in a knee-deep mess of snow and walking felt like work. It was miserable.
Tilt Cove wasn’t a very big place, but the Williams’ house, at the base of the hill, was somewhat removed from the bustle of town. It was good distance from most of the miners’ cabins and was situated in an enviable neighbourhood — next door to Doctor Smith, and the customs agent William Cunningham.
It was, mostly, a nice place to live.
In the dining room Francis found his his wife and two daughters waiting patiently. Waiting less-patiently was his 13-year-old son James who was busily spreading butter on a slice of fresh bread.
James was growing like a weed, he thought, and threatening to eat them out of house and home.
With a smile, Francis pulled out his chair and started to sit down.
Disaster Strikes
Nobody knew it yet but, the steep hills that encircled Tilt Cove — the hills that ran just behind the Williams’ house — were covered in an unstable layer of snow. The freezing rain at the start of the storm had left a layer of ice, and the subsequent snow drifts were barely clinging to the hillside; any slight disturbance could send the spilling on to the houses below.
It happened just as Francis sat at the table.
There was a low rumble and suddenly the dining room walls came crashing inward, the ceiling fell and the family were ripped from each other.
An avalanche had cascaded down the hillside and they were buried.
There was nothing but blackness and horrible silence.
The Destruction Next Door
The Williams’ weren’t alone; next door the Cunningham house had been hit too. William Cunningham and his wife had managed to escape the debris by climbing through what was left of their dining room window.
They had only minor injuries but lost inside was their 3-year-old son, Edward. He’d been in the kitchen with housekeeper Emily Day… but where was they now? The kitchen was gone, lost in a mass of snow.
If they hoped to see them again, they had to do something.
The Cunningham’s began working through the rubble. It was an immense task — there was so much snow, everything was scattered so far, and they just didn’t know where their little son was.
If there was one consolation, it was that the Edward was with Emily. If it was humanly possible to protect him, Emily would do it.
They knew that.
There was nothing to do but dig, and pray they were working in the right direction.
Help Arrives
Image generated by Bing AI, edited
Word of the disaster spread quickly through Tilt Cove and it wasn’t long before a contingent of people descended on the site with lanterns and shovels.
Some worked alongside the Cunninghams while others tackled the site of the Williams’ house.
30-minutes went by, then an hour; still, they found nothing.
Finally, after nearly two hours of searching there was some success. They uncovered Emily Day and the baby.
Relief Turns to Horror
Emily, as the Cunningham’s had predicted, managed to keep the baby safe but it had cost her dearly.
When the avalanche struck, she’d scooped-up baby Edward to shield him from the debris. In doing so she’d put herself in the path of the hot kitchen stove. The snow lifted it and pushed it over on top of her.
For nearly two-hours she’d been pinned against the scalding appliance. She was alive, but horribly burned. They managed to free her from the debris but she was far from safe.
A Voice!
Williams family home after the avalanche, Tilt Cove
At the Williams’s house they were making progress too. After two hours of digging they heard a voice — it was Mrs. Williams.
“We are here alive, two girls and myself,” she cried, “but God only knows where the others are.”
The team freed the first three members of the Williams household but there was more work to be done. Four people were still missing — Francis, James and the two staff who’d been in the kitchen.
Exhausted from their hours of work but buoyed by their success, the team resumed the search.
Sadly, there were to be no more voices from the rubble.
They discovered the body of the mine manager trapped between the rubble and the lifeless form of his young son, James. The boy, it appeared, had died almost instantly; the bread he’d been eating was still in his mouth.
The crew continued the search through the night. It wasn’t until 9 o’clock the next morning they discovered the bodies of the two household staff who’d been in the kitchen. They were a brother and sister by the name of Sage. As with Emily Day, their bodies were found near the stove in circumstances, the newspapers reported, that proved death was instantaneous.
The town was in shock. Despite their rescue efforts four people were dead, and another was seriously injured.
There was nothing to do but plan funerals and see that Emily Day recieved proper medical care.
Caring for Emily
There was considerable public interest in the tragedy at Tilt Cove, especially in Day’s heroic efforts and her subsequent medical treatment.
It was requested that the government send a steamer to bring her to St. John’s. The Fogota was despatched to Tilt Cove and Day arrived in St. John’s on April 15, 1912 — a little more than a month after the disaster.
Even at that time, her burns were still so bad, that she required near-constant medical care on the voyage. Dr. Leslie, who was aboard the ship with her, said it was the most desperate case of burning he’d ever seen and deemed it a wonder that she had survived.
Day was taken to the General Hospital but little could be done for her and, in July, she died. “After months of suffering,” the Evening Telegram reported, “she has at last given up her life as the price of her heroic conduct.”
Emily’s death was the tragic end to a terrible chapter in Tilt Cove’s history.
More Avalanches
Newfoundland and Labrador has a long history of fatal avalanches. To learn more, you can browse a listing of them on the province’s Dept of Industry, Energy and Technology website.
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That Awful Snowslide, The Evening Telegram, March 18, 1912
In Terrible State, The Evening Telegram, April 15, 1912
Victim of Tilt Cove Accident Here, Evening Chronicle, April 15, 1912
The Passing of Miss Day, The Evening Telegram, July 18, 1912
Tilt Cove Avalanche, Industry, Energy & Technology, Gov. of NL
