In 1832 the first outbreak of Asiatic cholera reached the shores of America in full force, raging violently through the heat of summer and easing off with the cool temperatures of autumn. It had found a happy breeding place in the unspeakable filth of the emigrant vessels, on which food was inadequate and fresh water scarcely to be had, if the voyage was unduly lengthened by storms, helpless passengers were packed below deck, where one plague victim infected many of his comrades.
The plague struck Hamilton July 12th, 1832. That season cholera claimed one person out of twenty, in both Hamilton and Toronto.
Such was the terror the cholera inspired that at the gates of lonely country cemeteries bodies were left unburied, the friends of the deceased arriving under cover of night, leaving the corpse wrapped in an old blanket, then running away leaving the settlers close at hand to perform the distasteful task of burial. David Burkholder, mountain resident, use to relate how he and his brothers would cover their faces and hands as well as they could, dig shallow holes in their local cemetery, and haul the victim with long ropes to his last resting place, without benefit of clergy.
Perhaps they would find out that it was some well-known neighbour whom they were forced to handle so roughly.
If you have searched for a relative in this time frame, as you can see from the above, there may never have been a record of their death.