In more remote areas of the country, the burial took place on their own land, but most towns and urban centres had their own churchyards.
However, the burial itself was not the big event, but rather the whole mourning process. Besides the friends and relatives from far and wide, the whole neighbourhood came to a funeral, and it was considered breach of good manners not to go immediately to the wake. In affluent families, invitations were actually sent, but again, you didn't dare refuse or risk being a social outcast.
Besides the wearing of black, made popular by Queen Victoria, there were several traditions associated with a death in the family. Door knobs and knockers would be draped with black crepe and dull black ribbon bows, but if the deceased was young or unmarried, the bows and ribbons would be white. Tastefully arranged flowers decorated the coffin, but again, if they held a child or unmarried person, a cross would always be incorporated into the design, and usually done in white.
In rural areas where there was no regular undertaker, the gravedigging would be done by the sons or neighbours, and the local carpenter would make the coffin. Sometimes, the lumber would be selected well in advance and laid aside until needed. Early coffins were slightly different in shape, the cover or lid raised in the centre like the roof on a house, with hinges allowing it to be turned back. The casket was usually carried to the grave in a wagon or sleigh, depending on the season, and the pall bearers chosen from amoung the gentlemen of the neighbourhood, who dared not refuse the request. Once the date had been set, one of the men from the community rode around the countryside to notify all those concerned.
The funeral itself varied slightly depending on the particular religion, but once the proper prayers were said and the coffin lowered into the ground, the crowd returned to the family's home for refreshments.
Not only did the neighbours flock to the grand occasion, but many writers mention that Canadians were obsessed with visiting the dead and dying. Whether from morbid curiosity or a neighbourly feeling of concern, is hard to say, but one thing was clear. Canadians loved a good funeral.
The Immigrants also brought with them their own customs and superstitions. Among these were the "Watch Over the Dead" from northern Britain, and the infamous "Irish Wake", practiced in most Irish-Canadian settlements.
I am not there. I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow.
I am the diamond glint on snow.
I am the sunlight on ripened grain.
I am the gentle autumn rain.
When you wake in the morning hush
I am the swift uplifting rush
of quiet birds in circling flight.
I am the soft starlight at night.
Do not stand at my grave and weep.
I am not there. I do not sleep.
