ON THIS DAY…13TH AUGUST
In the late summer of 1880, twin girls were born into a Royal Naval family in Plymouth. Their father’s work kept the household afloat but also took him away from home, while their mother managed daily life and cared for the children. For a brief moment, Lily Elizabeth and May Amelia Hellyer shared the same early milestones but, within two years, both would be gone – two tiny lives lost in quick succession, leaving their parents with grief they would carry forever.
Lily and May Hellyer were born on 13th August 1880 to John Hellyer, a stoker in the Royal Navy, and his wife Mary Ann, née Congdon. The girls began life in the family’s home in Mount Street, Devonport, Plymouth and were baptized just two weeks after their birth, on 27th August at St Mary’s Church in Devonport. Their arrival must have brought joy and hope to the Hellyer household but their time together would be heartbreakingly brief.
AI Generated image depicting the Hellyer Family in 1880
By June 1881, the family were living in Tavistock, Devon, a quieter market town on the edge of Dartmoor. While Plymouth’s dockside streets bustled with noise, sea smells, and the grit of coal smoke, Tavistock offered cleaner air and a slower pace. Yet in both places, illness and infection were constant threats.
Lily Elizabeth was the first to pass away on 8th June 1881. At 10 months old, she succumbed to pneumonia and exhaustion at 24 Bannawell Street, Tavistock, Devon, the home of Charles and Elizabeth Gill. She was ill for 5 days and Elizabeth, described as an aunt, was present at the death. She was actually the second wife of Lily’s great-aunt’s husband. Lily was laid to rest on 12th June.
Her sister, May Amelia, followed a few months later. She died on 26th February 1882 at the same address. At just 18 months old, her cause of death was recorded as Tabes Mesenterica, a form of tuberculosis affecting the lymph nodes of the abdomen. May’s death certificate noted her father was a stoker on board H.M. Ship Briton and therefore, it’s possible John was not at home when she died. She was buried on 5th March.
In the 1880s, England’s infant mortality rate was high. Even in families with stable housing and an income, diseases such as diarrhoea, scarlet fever, measles, and whooping cough claimed countless young lives. Without antibiotics, safe infant feeding practices, or modern sanitation, a simple illness could turn deadly in days. For John and Mary Ann, the twins were not the only children they lost. Alice Maud was born in February 1887 and died in the December of that year.
There are no photographs, no surviving letters, no toys tucked away in attics to tell us more about Lily and May but their names endure in the family tree, quietly nestled among siblings who lived longer lives. Their brief existence reminds us of the fragility of childhood in the 19th century, when even the most cherished children could be lost in the blink of an eye.
In remembering Lily and May, we honour not just their lives, but the resilience of families who carried on through grief, holding fast to memory and love.
