This past weekend, I had the opportunity to attend RootsTech 2025 virtually, where one of the presentations that truly captivated me was "Funeral Traditions in the Victorian Era" by Cathy Wallace. As a family historian, I am always looking for ways to better understand the lives of my ancestors—not just their names and dates, but their experiences, emotions, and cultural practices. This session opened my eyes to a time when mourning was not just a personal experience but a deeply ritualistic and public affair.
For many of us today, funerals are somber yet relatively simple affairs, shaped largely by modern technology and cultural shifts. Today we see a shift in from what we traditionally called funerals to celebration of life. For my Victorian-era ancestors, mourning was an elaborate and socially significant process. Funerals were not only a way to honor the dead but also a measure of social prestige. Families went to great lengths to showcase their devotion through grand ceremonies, strict dress codes, and even unique superstitions.
One of the traditions that stood out to me was the practice of stopping the clock at the time of death. This was done to prevent bad luck and to symbolically freeze the moment of passing. By stopping the clock, it also helped the physician know the time of death when they arrived at the decease's home. It made me think about my ancestors from the Victorian time period. Did my ancestors stop the clock at the time of their loved one's death? Did they carefully drape mirrors to prevent the spirit from becoming trapped, as was commonly done in the era? These small but meaningful details give me a deeper appreciation for what my family members may have experienced when they lost a loved one.
As a widow myself, this session also made me reflect on how grief has changed over time. In the Victorian era, widows were expected to wear deep mourning attire for a year and a day, followed by months of transition into lighter colors. Society had strict expectations for how long grief should be publicly displayed. While we no longer adhere to such rigid customs, there are still unspoken societal pressures on how grief "should" look. This contrast between past and present mourning customs is something I will continue to think about as I explore my ancestors' stories.
Another fascinating aspect was the tradition of post-mortem photography. It makes me wonder which of my ancestors may have been photographed after their death. While it may seem unusual today, many families took final portraits of their loved ones, especially children who may not have been photographed while alive. These images were treasured keepsakes, offering a lasting memory in an era when photographs were rare. While these images can seem kind of out there, I would give anything to see an image of an ancestor because my curious nature wants to know what each of my ancestors looked like.
This session gave me a fresh perspective on how my ancestors navigated loss and remembrance. Understanding these customs helps bridge the gap between history and personal connection, allowing me to see not just the records of their lives but the emotions and traditions that shaped them.
If you’re a fellow family historian, I highly recommend looking into the mourning customs of your ancestors’ time period. What traditions might they have followed? How did they honor and grieve their loved ones? These details add depth to our research and bring our ancestors' stories to life in ways we might never have imagined.
Have you come across any unique funeral or mourning traditions in your research? I'd love to hear about them!