Rain clouds settled over Eltham.
Miss Annabelle Brownlow raised her umbrella as she passed the Magistrate’s Court and walked towards her friend’s house on High Street. Some might have thought the elegant young lady enjoyed considerable means, but the discerning observer would know pagoda sleeves on a woman’s frock were out by 1862. Here it was, early 1863, and Miss Brownlow clearly held no misgivings about being seen in unfashionable attire. Her deportment conveyed confidence, and her countenance showed purpose.
Thunder rumbled overhead, masking the sound of a herd of a dozen cattle bursting from a laneway, causing Miss Brownlow to lose her balance and fall to the ground. Her hooped skirt and petticoats ballooned about her, revealing more of Miss Brownlow’s stockings and drawers than she’d have wished any to see.
Two ladies leaving Binder’s Book Store rushed to Miss Brownlow’s aid. The latter, somewhat embarrassed that her undergarments had provided a spectacle for onlookers, allowed the ladies to help her to her feet. The ladies dusted her off and directed her to the tailor’s shop, where they interrupted Mr Edgestitch, measuring a man for a suit.
‘A herd of cattle rendered the lady helpless just before the heavens promised to open,’ one rescuer said.
Mr Edgestitch offered Miss Brownlow a chair and respite from the storm.
A month later, Miss A Brownlow, –(plaintiff) and Mr A. Crofter, -(defendant), appeared before Mr Justice Proctor in the Eltham Magistrate’s Court.
‘Mr Crofter, what say you to allowing your cattle to wander willy-nilly through public streets and to career down narrow lanes, upending innocent ladies?’
‘Ah, I was the worse for wear that day, your honour. I’d had a few pints to wet m’ baby’s head.’
‘Are you drunk now, Mr Crofter?’
‘No, sir, sober as a judge.’
‘Miss Brownlow is asking for compensation for pain and suffering and to be remunerated for her soiled dress. What say you to that, Mr Crofter?’
‘Only right and fair, your honour, sir.’
‘You are to pay Miss Brownlow £3.6s.4d to compensate her and 2s.6d in court costs. I suggest it might be wiser and less expensive to celebrate the birth of future Crofters, indoors with your wife.’
A fortnight later, Miss Annabelle Brownlow was again walking through town to visit her friend on High Street.
This time the lady wore a pink silk dress with the crinoline cage providing enough flounce to warrant the wearing of a single petticoat. This was finished with the finest needle lace. The frock boasted fashionable bishop’s sleeves with delicate braids and ribbons sewn on the bodice and hem. Underneath, Annabelle wore the latest figure forming corset, a white chemise and bloomers.
Her deportment showed confidence, and her countenance, delight.
©Rhonda Valentine Dixon
