​Remembering the Lost: The Silent Sorrow of 1886 Ontario

Child's headstone from 1886, Harrington, Ontario.

The year 1886 in Ontario, Canada, was a period of profound hardship and resilience. As cities and towns grew and industries expanded, life for many families was a constant struggle against the fragility of life itself. One of the most heartbreaking realities of the time, often whispered about in hushed tones, was the alarmingly high rate of infant mortality. Historical records from this era reveal a devastating truth: a significant percentage of deaths were among children under the age of one.

​The reasons for this tragic loss of life were multifaceted and deeply rooted in the realities of the late 19th century. Poor sanitation was a pervasive problem, with a lack of proper sewage systems and clean drinking water contributing to the spread of infectious diseases. Medical knowledge regarding childhood illnesses was rudimentary at best. Common ailments that are easily treatable today, such as diphtheria, whooping cough, and scarlet fever, were often fatal. Additionally, nutritional deficiencies, particularly in crowded urban areas, weakened children's immune systems, making them more susceptible to disease.

​For families in 1880s Ontario, the death of a child was an all-too-common sorrow. It was not unusual for families to face the unimaginable pain of burying multiple children. The grief was a private and often unspoken burden, etched into the very fabric of community life. Cemeteries from this period serve as poignant reminders of this silent sorrow. They are filled with small headstones, often clustered together in family plots, bearing the names of infants and young children who never had the chance to grow up.

​These small, often simple headstones are powerful testaments to the deep love and sorrow of the families who laid their children to rest. They represent a family's final act of devotion—a way to remember and honor a life, however short. Many of these stones, weathered by over a century of wind and rain, are now almost illegible. The inscriptions that once so clearly marked a young life are slowly fading, a symbol of the passage of time and the quiet erasure of memory.

These historic markers are more than just historical artifacts; they are a sacred part of our collective memory. They tell a story of a different time, a time when life was precarious and grief was a constant companion. By understanding the hardships faced by families in 1886 Ontario, we gain a deeper appreciation for the resilience of our ancestors and the enduring power of memory to bridge the gap between the past and the present.

Angie Moore