Lily’s body showed the heat signature patterns consistent with a living subject, or rather the residual patterns that living subjects left in photographs even after 126 years. Rose’s body showed nothing. No heat signature at all, just cold uniform reflection. The older girl was alive, Marcus confirmed. The younger one had been dead for some time.
Based on the skin discoloration visible in this resolution, I’d estimate at least several days, maybe a week. Helen felt a chill run down her spine. Show me their faces. Maximum detail. Marcus zoomed in on Rose’s face at 1,600% magnification. The details were devastating. The child’s eyes, which had appeared merely unfocused at normal viewing, were now clearly visible as clouded.
The corneas had begun to develop the milky opacity that occurs hours after death. Her slightly open mouth revealed the tip of her tongue, which had a darkened, desiccated appearance. But most heartbreaking was the makeup. At this magnification, Helen could see that someone had carefully applied powder and rouge to Rose’s face to give her cheeks artificial color.
Someone had positioned her carefully to hide the worst signs of death. Someone had gone to extraordinary lengths to make her look alive. Now Marcus zoomed in on Lily’s face. tears barely visible at normal resolution but unmistakable at this magnification. Lily had been crying when the photograph was taken. Her eyes were red rimmed.
Tear tracks were visible on her cheeks beneath the powder she too was wearing. And there was something else. Something written on the mounting board beneath the photograph. So faint it was invisible without digital enhancement. Marcus adjusted the contrast and sharpening. Words appeared written in pencil in a child’s handwriting.
I promised Mama I would hold her hand forever. I kept my promise. June 12th, 1895. Helen immediately began searching historical records for the Davies family. Finding information from 1895 was challenging, but the Boston Historical Society had extensive archives and connections to genealogical databases. Within 2 days, Helen had found them.
The Davies family had lived in Boston’s Beacon Hill neighborhood. The father, Robert Davies, was a successful textile merchant. The mother, Eleanor Davies, came from old Boston money. They had two daughters, Lily, born March 1884, and Rose, born September 1888. Rose Davies died on June 3rd, 1895 at age 6 years and 9 months.
Cause of death, scarlet fever. Lily Davies died 7 days later on June 10th, 1895 at age 11 years and 3 months. cause of death, also scarlet fever. The photograph was dated June 1895, which meant it had been taken sometime between Rose’s death on June 3rd and Lily’s death on June 10th. Helen found the death certificates in the Massachusetts State Archives.
Both girls were buried in Mount Auburn Cemetery on June 11th, 1895 in the family plot. A joint funeral service was held at Trinity Church, but there was something odd about the burial records. The notation for Rose’s burial said, “Delayed interment due to family circumstances. Body held at family residence June 3rd to 10th.
” Rose’s body had been kept at home for 7 days before burial. In June in Boston, where temperatures that week, according to weather records, hadreached the mid80s, Helen found a newspaper article from the Boston Globe, dated June 12th, 1895. Tragedy strikes Davy’s family, both daughters lost to scarlet fever. The prominent Beacon Hill family of Robert and Elellanar Davies mourns the devastating loss of both their daughters within the span of one week.
Rose Davies, age 6, succumbed to scarlet fever on June 3rd. Her sister Lily, age 11, fell ill shortly after and passed away on June 10th. Sources close to the family report that Lily refused to leave her sister’s side during her illness and insisted on remaining with her even after Rose’s passing.
The double funeral was held yesterday at Trinity Church. Mrs. Davies is said to be prostrate with grief and under doctor’s care. Helen cross referenced this with city records and found something else. On June 8th, 1895, a physician named Dr. Samuel Morrison had been summoned to the Davies household by neighbors who reported concerning circumstances.
Dr. Morrison’s report filed with the city health department stated responded to 44 Beacon Street regarding welfare concerns. Found surviving child Lily Davies age 11 refusing to be separated from deceased sister’s body. Child stated she had promised mama to stay with her sister. Mother and father are both ill with grief and fever.
Father recovering from scarlet fever himself. Mother in state of nervous collapse. Child has been sleeping beside deceased sister’s body for 5 days. Despite health concerns, family refused to allow immediate burial. Recommended urgent intervention, but no intervention had occurred. Rose’s body remained at the house for two more days.
And at some point during that week, someone had arranged for a photographer to come to the house. Someone had posed the two girls together in the garden, had dressed them in matching white dresses, had positioned them holding hands, had told Lily to look at the camera and try not to cry. Someone had created a photograph that showed both Davey’s daughters together one final time, as if both were still alive.
Helen’s research led her to the archives of the Boston Photographers Guild where she found records of active photographers in 1895. One name appeared in connection with the Davies family. Thomas Blackwell, a photographer who specialized in memorial portraits. His business ledger preserved in the society’s collection contained an entry dated June 7th, 1895.
Davy’s Residence, 44 Beacon Street. Memorial portrait. Two subjects. Special arrangements. Payment $50. $50 in 1895 was an extraordinary sum, roughly $1,800 in modern currency, far more than a typical memorial photograph would cost. Helen searched for more information about Thomas Blackwell and found his personal diary which had been donated to the society in 1957 by his granddaughter.
She requested the diary from storage and when it arrived she carefully turned the fragile pages to June 1895. The entry for June 7th 1895 was longer than most. received urgent summons to the Davy’s household on Beacon Hill. The situation there is among the most disturbing I have encountered in 20 years of memorial photography. The younger daughter, Rose, died of scarlet fever 4 days ago.
The older daughter, Lily, has also contracted the disease and will not survive long, according to the family physician. But the true horror is this. Lily has refused to leave her deceased sister’s side. She sleeps beside the body. She holds the dead child’s hand. She speaks to her as if she were alive. The mother is too overcome with grief to intervene.
The father is weak from his own illness. They sent for me because Lily requested it. The child wants a photograph of herself with her sister so mama can remember us together. I tried to explain that we could create a traditional memorial portrait, but Lily became hysterical. She demanded the photograph show both of them alive and together.
She made me promise to pose them in a way that would hide the fact that Rose was deceased. I am deeply uncomfortable with this deception, [clears throat] but the child is dying and her parents are too broken to refuse her anything. I agreed. God forgive me. I agreed. I photographed the two girls in the garden, positioned carefully so that Rose’s condition would not be obvious.
I posed them holding hands as Lily insisted. The older girl never stopped crying, but she tried to hold still for the exposure. She whispered to her sister throughout, telling her to stay calm, stay still just a little longer. The younger girl, of course, remained perfectly still. I completed the work in half an hour and left as quickly as possible.
The father paid me double my usual rate and begged me never to speak of this. I will honor that request. But I will never forget the sight of that living child clutching her dead sister’s hand, trying so desperately to pretend everything was normal, trying so desperately to keep a promise she should never have been asked to make.
