a terrible night:
(Quoted from Dostoevsky's The Double)
a November night, wet, misty, snowy, fraught with abscesses, colds, agues, tonsillitis, fevers of all possible descriptions ‒ in short, with all the delights that November in St Petersburg has to offer.
The wind wailed down the empty streets, raising the black waters of the River Fontanka above the level of the rings and tugging hard at the flimsy street lamps that stand along the embankment...
It was raining and snowing at the same time. Picked up by the wind, streams of rainwater sprayed almost horizontally, as if from a fire hose, stinging and whipping poor Mr Golyadkin's face like thousands of pins and needles. In the silence of the night, broken only by the distant rumble of carriages, the howling of the wind, and the squeak of the street lamps, came the dreary sound of water slapping and gurgling as it poured off all the roofs, porches, drainpipes, and cornices down onto the granite surface of the pavement. There was not a soul to be seen either near or far - and it seemed inconceivable that there could be at this time and in this weather.
FM Dostoevsky: The Double