Historic Remains

In Andrew Miller’s highly acclaimed novel, “Pure”, an engineer named Barratte is hired to exhume and relocate the bodies of Paris’ Les Innocents cemetery. The book borrows heavily on actual events. Les Innocents was indeed destroyed in 1786. One can still find many of its inhabitants stacked in neat piles inside the city’s famous catacombs. 

Not surprisingly, details surrounding any of these people have long since been lost to history. There was neither time nor inclination for record keeping when the work was carried out. Pressing concern for the spread of disease and a desperate need for space (not to mention an unexpected incursion of stacked bodies into one unfortunate restauranteur’s basement) led to the remains being shifted unceremoniously.

But it was a markedly different exhumation effort that occurred in Ottawa, Canada, during the construction of the city’s new Light Rail Transit (LRT) system between 2013 and 2017.

It began with a strange, somewhat disturbing find as a tunnel was being dug through the city’s downtown core. The discovery came in the form of an adult femur bone, which, upon further examination, was determined to be well over 150 years old.

The remains, it turns out, had been first laid to rest in one of the city’s original cemeteries: Barracks Hill. A comprehensive exhumation effort began, this one very different from the undertaking described in “Pure”.

Part of the LRT project was put on hold in order for an investigation to take place similar to an archeological dig. The examination was slow and methodical, with careful attention to detail and a respectful approach to all findings. 

Exhumed remains were analyzed and, whenever possible, meticulously reassembled. In total, over one hundred persons, 70 adults and 39 children, were identified. Investigation also included a thorough review of church records for any insight into causes of death and, ideally, clues to their identity.

The study yielded fresh perspectives into a unique period of Ottawa’s early history and its inhabitants, How they lived and, especially, how they died. Originally buried in the 1830s and early 1840s, many had fallen victim to cholera in one of the two epidemics which swept through the town in 1832 and 1834 respectively — in some cases wiping out entire families.

Then there was the significant amount of healed trauma, particularly in the bones of younger men — most likely attributable to rough causes. Another major cause of death was drowning, which was second only to cholera.

All of this was reinforced by known history. Ottawa (then Bytown) was a tough and dangerous frontier town at the time. A good number of immigrants, largely Irish, eked out a living digging the Rideau Canal from 1827 to 1832 and, later, felling trees and piloting logs downriver. 

There was also a particularly violent period, known as the Shiner War, between 1835 and 1839. During this time, violence was rampant in the streets of Lowertown (now the Byward Market), as warring factions fought for coveted jobs in the lumber trade. But that’s a story in itself, and the subject for a future blog.

Drowning deaths are also well documented — with most occurring on the Ottawa River and its tributaries. Running concentrations of logs down fast-moving water and rapids was treacherous work. A single misstep on a slippery, shifting log often meant certain death.

The Pembroke Observer, in articles published at the time, cites drowning as the cause of death for over 80 persons in 1845 alone. Many perished in the treacherous rapids just west of the city, where the Dumoine and Ottawa rivers meet. I’ve added a link to an interesting blog which describes this history in more detail:

http://dumoinewatershed.blogspot.com/2013/01/dumoine-tragedies.html?m=1

But perhaps the single most compelling find came in the form of a fully intact skull which, after the creation of a 3-D printed copy, led to a full facial reconstruction. It is the face of a man, possibly in his thirties. So detailed and realistic is the end product that he seems almost alive; and there a rough smugness in his expression as he stares back at you. Fitting, perhaps, given what we know of what it took to survive.

Janet Young, the curator of physical anthropology at the Canadian Museum of History, describes this fascinating facial reconstruction effort in her blog. I highly recommend checking it out along with all of her blogs if, like me, you’re into this sort of thing:

https://www.historymuseum.ca/blog/bone-detective-mysteries-of-those-found-beneath-downtown-ottawa-series-introduction

There’s also a book in the works describing the team’s efforts and their findings.

It’s worth noting that a significant number of the identified remains have since been laid to rest at nearby Beechwood Cemetery. Thanks to DNA testing, actual descendants have even been present for their burial.

It’s hard to overstate the amount of effort and care that led to such a happy closure, particularly given the poor state of many of the remains. For you see, the grounds of the Barrack Hill cemetery were far from undisturbed.

The graveyard was closed in 1845 because it could be expanded no further. As with Les Innocents, there was a pressing need for space in a growing town, along with concern for the spread of disease. Many of the dead were exhumed and reburied, but not all. Those left unclaimed were reduced to fragments as the ground was repeatedly dug up and repurposed.

Some remains were “informally” scattered beneath Queen street, where cemetery earth was used as trench fill to pack in water mains installed in the 1870s. Their poor condition makes Janet Young and her team’s dedicated, detail-oriented work even more impressive.

In the end, these efforts offer a fascinating lens into Ottawa’s origins as a rough frontier town. They provide a glimpse into ordinary, often tragic lives lived in an extraordinary time. And for many, namely their known descendants, the research has strengthened our connection to the past.

It’s something to reflect on as you walk the Ottawa River, where great numbers of massive logs once flowed. Or as you make your way through the city’s downtown core; maybe Queen Street in particular.