Victorian death photos (no photos shown here)

These days - in this culture at least - I believe we have become so uncomfortable with death that people often find it a hard topic hard talk about or deal with. In earlier times life expectancy was far shorter, families were larger, disease treatment minimal and child mortality in particular was something expected - but obviously still heartbreaking.

Many years ago I first recall hearing about Victorian death photographs which at the time seemed to me most macabre. Not long ago, someone we know, casually mentioned they had bought an album of old photographs and suddenly realised they were in fact death photos - consequently he put the set in an auction and achieved a amazingly high price for them.

Weird though this all sounds I suppose as I have got older I can understand why grieving people felt/feel the need to to have one final photograph of someone they dearly loved. This isn't something I would want to do myself personally - but, particularly during Victorian times, acknowledging someones death ( whether by photos, mourning clothes or jewellery) and the long period of grieving which followed, was all part of a well established ritual. Admittedly, the public show was generally the preserve of the 'well off', but even the poor carried their memories through the years.

I recall my dad saying that he had an infant brother who died and as there was no money for a proper grave in the churchyard, the Vicar allowed his baby brother ( and other infants) to be buried unmarked alongside the churchyard walls. When I visit there I often wonder just what part of the encircling wall he was buried against....

When my own mother died I wasn't even told for months that it had happened - I just presumed that she was still in hospital as she had been in and out ever since I was born. I didn't even know when she had been buried, although many years later it transpired that when one of her sisters came down from Scotland for what I thought was a visit, that was actually for the funeral...

However it was about a year or so later that something happened when a friend of mine died - that has always haunted me - and I hope that no-one reading this will recognise the person I am writing about.

A***** was a couple of years older that me and had always been a sickly child. I didn't know that she had a heart condition - but she died suddenly of a heart attack.

That was sad enough, but I overheard a conversation between 2 neighbours who were family friends - and was left in no doubt how angry and critical they both were about what had been witnessed.
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I don't suppose anyone from the authorities would have rushed to remove A***** and very quickly all our part of the road knew what had happened. To my horror I heard Aunt M say that she had called at the house and found that A***** was lying on the kitchen floor covered with newspapers and that the family and visitors were all having to literally step over her to move about.

Aunt M was a 'Matter of fact' person who originally hailed from the north of England and she just couldn't bear to see the child left like that. Single handed she washed and laid out the body of my friend and got the parents to bring down her best nightdress. Then she removed A***** to lie on the sofa where she remained until someone eventually came and removed her from the house.

Her parents and siblings had always seemed to be a bit slow and strange to me (although perhaps I was wrong in thinking that) but thereafter, every Sunday they would go to the churchyard to take flowers and attend the grave, so there is no doubt in my mind that she was a very loved child who was always in her parents thoughts.

When I go to the churchyard to visit my parents grave I always pop round to say hello to A***** - but in my mind I always imagine her left lying on the kitchen floor covered in old newspapers...