within the burning garment. The poor babe has lost its young mother. She lingered through several days of agony, and then died at the age of twenty.—In another case a little boy of ten appeared at the inquest on his mother, and told what he had tried to do to save her. Her skirt went into the wood fire behind, without her being aware of it. The boy squeezed her clothes, and knocked out some of the flames with a stick. When a man came in to help, the boy called the neighbours: but in a minute or two she was seen in the road with her cotton-dress in flames, the canes preventing their being put out. There was a piece of steel hoop also left in the road. “For mercy’s sake! for mercy’s sake! put it out!” she cried, till she fell: but not till she fell could anything be done. She was just thirty-three,—old enough to have dressed herself more wisely.—The same thing happened to Mrs. R, when she was standing with her back to the fire, in the midst of her little children. Stooping to look at something they wanted to show her, she struck her skirts against the bars. She, too, rushed into the open air; and the neighbours in this case, too, could only burn their hands without saving her. She was young; but who can replace her to her children?—A young wife comes next on my melancholy list. She had been married only a few weeks: and her husband was in the house. He had left her busy at the oven, and presently heard shrieks from the kitchen. She wore a large crinoline, and as she passed the fire-place her dress caught. Thus perished the bride of one-and- twenty.—There was another younger still,—only eighteen. She was dressed in muslin, widely spread out; and, on crossing the room, she whisked her flounces against the grate. She died on the stairs; but she had set two rooms on fire; and her husband, being called home, had to work at extinguishing the flames, while she lay dead. This was the case which drew the severest rebuke from Dr. Lankester.—Another of his grave remonstrances was called forth by the case of a widow who kept a tavern, and sat up at night to post the books. She, widow as she was, was a slave to the fashion; and she seems to have set her skirts on fire while undressing near a candle which was placed low. She died at noon next day.—Another lady, a young mother, escaped only through the fact of her dress fastening in front, all the way down. She was caressing her child by the fireside, when the little creature cried out that mamma’s gown was on fire behind. She gathered her skirts about her, and ran to the kitchen, where she desired a servant to hold her clothes tight, while she tried to get out of her cage. She unfastened gown and petticoat, and threw them off,—the under petticoat being burned to ashes, leaving only the steel apparatus. Her hands were much burnt; but she escaped with her life.
Are any of my readers complaining already of the monotony of these stories? They must hear more; but they may remember, perhaps, the two ladies who not long ago, and within a few days of each other, were crushed out of life, and out of all human semblance, by their skirts catching in the shaft of a mill. Here is a break to the sameness: but what an alternation it is! Shall we ever forget how one of those victims was seen, within a few minutes of being torn to pieces, gaily walking down the village street, with some friends and her son,—all elated at the new machinery being set to work that day. She was near her confinement; and due care seems to have been taken of her: but no care will constantly avail when the dress is out of the sphere of sensation of the wearer. No mind can be incessantly awake to the danger. Thus, after caution and warning, this victim’s wide-spreading dress was caught, and all was presently over.
If further variety is asked for, there is the case of Mrs. B, who was about to enter an omnibus in the Euston Road when a passing mail-cart caught her apparatus of steel and cane, and dragged her a considerable distance. She was carried home with a dislocated wrist and a compound fracture of her leg. Such cases have been frequent; and children and gentlemen have often suffered from them, by being entangled in the trammels of the ladies they are walking with.
There are, besides, many accidents to children and others, by being pushed,—not only into ditches, and from the causeway into the road, but from boats and gangways and jetties into the water, and from the side pavements of London under the wheels of waggons or of cabs. Before me lies a published letter from a London surgeon, who declares that there are many more accidents from the hoop than any but men of his profession are aware of. He had just been called in to a case which grieved his heart. A pretty child of three and a half was dreadfully scalded because the parlour-maid, while carrying the urn, hissing hot, caught her foot in the steel cage of a young lady seated near the sister in whose lap the child was sitting. The maid stumbled forwards, and the urn shed its boiling contents over the poor child. Who would have slept that night, or for many nights, after having worn that hoop? Who would ever have liked the seashore so well again after witnessing the fate of the young lady who was disembowelled by the snapt steel hoop of her petticoat? “Take me to my mother!” was all her entreaty when people gathered round her, to ask her if she was hurt. Striving to the last to conceal what had happened, she could only cry—“Take me to my mother!” The widowed mother received her only child with a fatal gash across the abdomen; and thus the poor lady lost her only child,—her support and comfort in life!
The next class is that of the young ladies. Of the gay young creatures who, a year ago, were looking forward to a sunny life in this happy world, how many are now mouldering in the grave,—sent there through the torture of fire!
Torture indeed! S. W, a girl of fourteen, who “wore a very large crinoline,” was alone at the time; and all we know is that the burning began with her skirts. The poor thing was “roasted” all over, except her feet, “which were protected by boots.”—E. C was visiting Mrs. W; and another young lady was in the room, when she caught fire by poking her skirt against the bars. “O! put it out!” she cried, as they all do. She was rolled on the ground, and wrapped round with woollen things; but the hoop