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MILLINERS' APPRENTICES.

"Etsi nullum memorabile nomen Fœmineâ in pœnâ est nec habet victoria laudem, Extinxisse nefas tamen, et sumsisse merentis Laudabor pœnas.”—VIRG. Æn. ii.

THE warmest advocate for the advantages of luxury and civilisation in a state, cannot disguise from himself the melancholy truth, that to administer to that condition and those advantages, the privations and sufferings of many individuals must be increased in such a ratio as fully to bear out what otherwise would seem a paradox, that where there is the greatest wealth, there is the greatest misery. Whether it is that man, naturally tyrannical and arbitrary, shews this disposition more particularly when successful industry makes him less dependent on his fellowman, or that the excitement of competition, which is inseparable from wealth and aggrandisement, renders him selfish and hard-hearted, certain it is that at no period is it more necessary to protect the weak against the strong, than when one might suppose that increased security and abundance of every thing conducive to happiness or comfort would cause him to do all in his power to relieve the condition of those less prosperous or fortunate than himself. While this reflexion leads the speculative philosopher to examine and discuss the relative good or evil of luxury and refinement in the abstract, the practical philanthropist will endeavour to mitigate the disadvantages arising from them by wise and salutary laws. The sympathy of the British public has been awakened in behalf of those so hardly tasked under the factory system, and notwithstanding the opposition created against the measure by the advocates of what is termed uncontrolled freedom of labour, the Ten-hours' Bill will sooner or later become the law of the land, and the truth of that maxim of our poet, "Be just and fear not," be fully and universally recognised. At the very moment, however, that the hardships undergone by the youth of both sexes in the manufacturing districts have been engaging the attention of the

public mind, and the feelings of society have been harrowed by the piteous description of the trials they are exposed to in their round of daily toil, there has been discovered to exist a class of persons whose sufferings far exceed those of the poor mechanic or the factory-girl. I allude to the young women employed by the milliners and dress-makers to assist in their business, either as apprentices or day-workers, in large towns, more particularly in the metropolis. The object of the present article is, first, to enumerate some of those evils, physical and moral, which arise from the tyranny and severe tasking so generally practised in this department of trade; and, 2dly, to examine briefly if any remedies, legislative or otherwise, can be applied to a system of over-working so manifestly requiring alteration and improvement.

If we enter the work-room of some dress-maker in tolerable business, we shall see a number of girls, many of them pale and emaciated, crowded together, and under the superintendence of a forewoman, whose office it is to keep order and urge on the appointed task. Of these some are "apprentices," others are “dayworkers," the remainder are what are termed "improvers." The apprentices are placed with the proprietress of the establishment for a certain period, generally for about two or three years, sometimes five. They are apprenticed usually about the age of fourteen, and reside entirely on the premises. The premium, of course, varies according to the situation and notoriety of the house. It is sometimes as high as sixty guineas. The day-workers either live at home or in their own lodgings; they come to the dress-maker's from nine in the morning till nine at night, and receive from 1s. to 1s. 6d. per day. If required to work extra hours, they are paid accordingly. They bring their own dinners

with them, but are found in tea and sugar. The "improvers" are girls from seventeen to twenty years of age, who come up from the country, and remain usually six months with their employer, during which period they make themselves generally useful; their time is entirely at the disposal of the dress-maker; they reside with her, but receive no wages and pay no premium. During the London season, the fatigue they undergo is excessive. At a period of life when adequate rest, and even some relaxation, are absolutely necessary to the bodily health, they are confined, with scarcely any intermission for their meals, which they are frequently obliged to leave halffinished to return to their work, often till three or four o'clock in the morning, in a heated and unwholesome atmosphere. The whole frame exhausted, and the nervous system frequently too much unstrung for the enjoyment of the little sleep allowed them, they are expected to be early again at the work-table, and return with apparent cheerfulness to the toil which is silently sapping the secret springs of life. No wonder that many fall victims to untimely disease, or, escaping the immediate bad consequences, in after. life become the mothers of an unhealthy and miserable offspring. It is lamentable to see the change that sometimes comes over the country girl shortly after her admission as an apprentice. Arriving, perhaps, from her happy village home, where she has been the pride of honest and industrious parents, her cheeks redolent of rosy health, her step elastic, her spirits light and buoyant, at first the novelty and excitement, and constant variety of the busy town amuse her; she delights in the companionship of girls of her own age, and strives to the utmost of her power to win the approbation and confidence of her employer. By degrees her pallid cheek and attenuated form shew that the loss of fresh air, and the absence of accustomed exercise, are eating into the bud of youth. Her appetite leaves her she sighs occasionally over her work, but utters no complaint. Then comes the short hacking cough, the supernaturally brilliant eye, the hectic spot. She is de

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Languescit moriens, lassove papavera collo

Demisere caput, pluviâ cum forte gravantur."-VIRG. Æn. ix.

This is not a highly coloured picture, sketched by fancy, but the history of many a poor girl, the words of truth and soberness. And if it be possible to prevent such tales from being so common, if we can devise any scheme for rescuing one victim from being immolated on the shrine of Vanity and Fashion, will not every Englishman and every Englishwoman-for much is in her power-join with us in the sacred work?

It appears that the diseases to which the young dress-maker is most subject are complaints of the liver and stomach. The constant waste which, to constitute vigorous health, must be carried on by means of the secretions, being interrupted by want of air and exercise, the circulation becomes languid and sluggish, the blood is loaded with impure humours, and congestion of the abdominal viscera necessarily ensues.

Not only are the sedentary habits of young dress-makers, so long continued, prejudicial to the full developement of the body, but the stooping position which they are obliged to adopt, with the head and neck bent forwards, are productive of serious mischief. Accordingly, spinal diseases, and the contortion commonly called the wry-neck, which arises from the sterno-mastoid muscle growing out of its natural place, are often the consequences of this position. It is not uncommon also to see disorders of the eyes, arising from painful and difficult work done by candle-light, sometimes by gas-light. It is at this time of the day that the young prisoners suffer most from confinement. After the atmosphere of the work-room has been corrupted by the numbers employed in it during the morning, perhaps during winter, when the windows have not been opened, the lighting of it up at night generates a quantity of carbonic acid, which it is extremely pernicious to breathe. If we

suppose, what is not, perhaps, often the case, that gas is employed in the work-room, the noxious effects are still greater. To shew the importance of proper ventilation, we will quote a passage on the subject from an article by Mr. Squire, in a late number of the Pharmaceutical Journal:

The usual argand gas-burner consumes about five cubic feet of gas per hour, producing rather more than five cubic feet of carbonic acid, and nearly half a pint of water. Shops using thirty of these lights, therefore, in an evening of four hours, produce upwards of nine gallons of water, holding in solution the noxious products of the gas. An argand lamp, burning in a room twelve feet high and twelve feet square, containing 1728 cubic inches of air, with closed doors and windows, produces sufficient carbonic acid in rather more than three hours to exceed more than one per cent, which is considered unfit for respiration, and when it amounts to ten per cent it is fatal to life. A man makes on an average twenty respirations in a minute, and at each respiration inhales sixteen cubic inches of air. Of these 320 cubic inches inhaled, thirty-two cubic inches of oxygen are consumed, and twenty-five cubic inches of carbonic acid produced."

With regard to exercise, the apprentices and day-workers are better off than the improvers. The apprentices are often sent out on what is termed to "match," that is, to fetch from large houses of business the different articles which ladies have made choice of to be made up. Sometimes they are out on these errands the whole morning; but, with the exception of what they get on Sundays, this is the only exercise they are allowed to take. The day-workers coming early in the morning, and returning home at night, have some time of the day at least to themselves; but there is this serious disadvantage to which they are exposed, namely, that they are turned loose upon the town at a time of the day when the public streets are least respectable, and living as they often do alone, or one or two together, in lodgings, they are liable to form improper connexions, and become lax in their moral habits. The poor improvers seldom get out at all, and they are usually the

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greatest sufferers. The time they remain with the milliner is indeed short, but it is often quite sufficient to undermine their constitutions, and sow the seeds of disorders which last for life. Sunday, that day of rest so grateful to the whole creation, cannot be said to be one to the young dressmaker. Much moral evil necessarily ensues from the way she is treated on a Sunday. Having worked perhaps on the evening before till long past midnight, she is expected not to remain at home on the Sabbath. employer is quite regardless whether she frequents a place of divine worship or not, her presence is disagreeable, and the work-room shut up. Perhaps a stranger in the metropolis, she has no relations or friends with whom to spend her hours of recreation, and no wonder that she often spends her time at such places of amusement as are open on the Sabbath, or in the parks, with some acquaintance or admirer she accidentally picks up. This is an evil which should be remedied. The mistress should make their home comfortable and agreeable to the girls on the Sabbath; her table should be as open to them on that as on any other day in the week; she should place in their way suitable books, and they should not be driven, fatigued in body and mind as they must be, to seek amusement and relaxation abroad.

In case of temporary illness and indisposition, the young dress-maker's position is very forlorn and distressing. She cannot absent herself from the work-room without incurring the displeasure of the lady of the house, and if she fancies any little delicacy, such as broth or gruel, she can only obtain it by purchasing it at her own expense, and giving a perquisite to the cook to prepare it for her. If her indisposition continues, she must either go to her friends or to the hospital. With this alternative before her, she often struggles on against sickness, rather than put her friends to the additional burthen of keeping her, after the payment of a premium for her instruction, the amount of which perhaps they have raised with great difficulty and self-denial. To the expenses of her washing and her

clothes is now added the apothecary's bill, and she has not unfrequently to bear the reproaches of the forewoman, and what are called the "first-hands," for the neglect or unskilfulness of her work. Many a heart has been broken under this severe and cruel usage. Not that we would have it inferred that the description given in these pages of the hardships endured by the young apprentice are of universal application; far from it. There are many houses where the kindness and consideration shewn her, and the efforts made by the mistress to counteract any mischief arising from her close confinement to business by occasional indulgence and relaxation, have long been remembered by the inmates with feelings of the deepest gratitude and affection. It is indeed the policy of the employer to be considerate and kind to the girls placed under her care. Such kindness is by no means thrown away upon them. When called upon to make any extraordinary exertion, the readiness and cheerfulness with which they endeavour to give her satisfaction, and the pains which they take to execute well the commission entrusted to them, shew clearly that a willing industry and unforced obedience are most successful and happiest in their results. Such a mistress will make the call for particular application only when it is necessary. At the dull season of the year, when business is slack, she will not keep her girls up till a late hour, employed in sewing for herself or her family. She will allow them to take that opportunity of making or mending their own clothes, or permit them to amuse themselves in any manner they may think best. She will join in their conversation, enter into their hopes and prospects, sympathise with them in sickness, and endeavour to make herself rather beloved by her kindness to them, than feared by the strictness and severity of her discipline. Were such treatment more general, the whole moral character of the establishment would not only be greatly improved, but even the despatch of business itself accelerated. There would not be that system of deceit carried on between the girls and their employers which is now so prevalent. When the mistress or

forewoman are absent from the workroom, as they often unavoidably are, for the purpose of taking orders, the girls, from mere physical exhaustion, watch their opportunity and leave off work; the pent-up spirits now escape; they make up for the previous silence which they have been obliged to keep, and the greatest anarchy and confusion prevail.

The diet in many houses is very deficient. Between five and six in the morning the girls are expected to get up; half an hour is allowed them for dressing themselves. The breakfast hour is eight o'clock, and this meal consists of two cups of indifferent tea, and a round of bread and butter. The dinner at 1 P.M. is usually composed of a joint of meat and potatoes. Of this each girl is helped once; she seldom asks for more without being subject to unpleasant remarks. Pudding is a great rarity. In some houses they have table ale, not of the strongest or most nourishing quality, but in very many water is the only beverage allowed. The tea at 5 P.M. is a repetition of the breakfast, and the supper at nine consists of bread and cheese, termed by the girls" the dry meal." If they are obliged to sit up very late, they are allowed additional tea and coffee during the night. Sometimes there is a strike among them, when the mistress is too unreasonable even for a house of business. An apprentice informed the writer that she remembered having sat at work, with a short interval for meals, from 5 A.M. till the next morning at 3 A.M., when the employer brought in more work. The girls had previously determined among themselves to hold out against her if she should expect more to be done, and accordingly, on coming in, she tried each apprentice, but they resolutely refused, informing her that "they thought they had done a fair day's work." The Penelope retreated from the scene of rebellion in sullen dignity, giving a reluctant permission to her maidens to retire then to bed, but adding" that they must take care to be all up early in the morning." This circumstance occurred during the pressure to get ready a court mourning, but it might as readily occur during the urgency of preparation for a lady's court dress.

Among the evils arising from the hard life of the young work-woman, it does not appear that the bad habit of recruiting the exhausted spirits by drinking is to be met with. Examples of this vice, of itself so pernicious to health, are extremely rare. Tea and coffee seem to be the restoratives chiefly coveted among the girls. Their confinement, under the immediate eye of the mistress, possesses, among many bad consequences, this good one, that they cannot get out to obtain wine or spirits; nor, if they did, could they conceal them on the premises, or resort to them without detection. The extra pocket-money they possess appears to be chiefly spent in purchasing little articles of dress or finery, for this is a temptation to which they are, from their very profession and employment, particularly liable. If a girl has a pretty face, she is often made to try on a bonnet or a mantle for a customer, and if she is told that it becomes her, which she very soon discovers, it is no wonder that she acquires a taste for personal decoration. Hearing so much said on every side respecting dress and ornaments, she learns naturally to give them an undue value in her estimation. Perhaps less fortunate than those around her, in the supply of pocket-money allowed her by her relatives, this love of dress, and the ambition of appearing as nice in her personal appearance as those who are richer than herself, cause her often to fall a victim to her own vanity, and lead to the degradation of her character and the ruin of her moral happiness. It is inconceivable how many of those unfortunate beings who live on the wages of prostitution, might refer the first step taken towards the downward path to the house of the milliner or dress-maker. The love of dress would perhaps be found to be one of the chief temptations which led them to go astray. But let the censorious and uncharitable reflect at the same time how severe the trials they were exposed to, when the character and principles were most pliant, most prone to receive every external impression. Let those whose advantages are great, to whom decorous conduct from their difference of circumstances is comparatively

easy, consider how the image of Mammon and worldliness was constantly before them; how the kinder and more genial feelings of woman's heart, expanding as they do with most warmth and "beauty most admired" in the early spring of youth, were chilled and frozen by hardships and neglect. Happy are ye who have the culture and discipline of Religion to throw their shield around you when the passions begin to assert their despotic power, who have the mother's arm to lean on, or the voice of the friend to warn you, when the jeers of companions, already lost to shame, assail your tottering virtue, or your own heart is treacherous to itself! Surely, O ladies of England-ye women that are at ease, you have some part or lot in this matter-the cry of the poor dress-maker appealing to you for assistance to alleviate her condition will not be heard in vain? Will you continue to require your orders to be executed in an unreasonably short time, when you know that many a poor girl must be deprived of rest, of health, of strength, nay perhaps of life, for the satisfaction of your fashionable caprice, and for the sake of a luxury which you would be just as well, and just as happy, if you had it not? Will you cheapen and haggle for the price of a silk or muslin, when you learn that the few pounds or shillings you may gain to yourself will be wrung out of the forced labour and midnight weariness of a jaded artisan, who has feelings as well as you, and necessities far greater than you can ever have? Think not only of yourselves in that crowded show-room, where the mirrors reflect your jewelled forms, arrayed in all the splendour that the most costly material can furnish forth. More enviable would you be if you made one of those pale girls less miserable for a single hour, than if night after night you shone at the brilliant opera, or in the dazzling ball-room, the brightest stars of rank, and wealth, and beauty.

Not much now remains to be said respecting what we proposed to make the first part of our present inquiry. The great competition in every department of trade and business at the present day, in dress-making and millinery among the rest, and the

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