ON THE USE OF CORSETS.
The following pages are abridged by an eminent English physician from an Essay on the Use of Corsets, by Soemmerring, the German physiologist:
Fashion lives on novelty, and we have on this account much charity for its wanderings and eccentricities. Bonnets, with a snout as long as an elephant’s proboscis, or a margin as broad as a Winchester bushel, are merely ridiculous. Shoulders that look like wings, and sleeves as wide as a petticoat, we think are not particularly graceful; but they have at least the merit of being airy, and we take no offence. We cannot, however, extend our indulgence to the compressed waist, which is the rage at present. We know that as often as the waist is lengthened to its natural limits, this tendency to abridge its diameter appears; and we confess we are puzzled to account for the fact; for surely it is strange, that a permanent prepossession should exist in favor of a mode of dress which is at once ugly, unnatural, and pernicious. Were fashion under the guidance of taste, the principles of drapery in painting and sculpture would never be lost sight of in its changes. The clothes that cover us may be disposed in an infinite variety of forms, without violating those rules which the artist is careful to observe. The true form of the body ought to be disclosed to the eye, without the shape being exhibited in all its minutiæ, as in the dress of a harlequin; but in no case should the natural proportions (supposing the figure to be good) be changed. Ask the sculptor what he thinks of a fashionable waist, pinched till it rivals the lady’s neck in tenuity, and he will tell you it is monstrous. Consult the physician, and you will learn that this is one of those follies in which no female can long indulge with impunity; for health, and even life, are often sacrificed to it.
Corsets are used partly as a warm covering to the chest, and partly to furnish a convenient attachment to other parts of the female dress. This is all proper and correct; but to these uses fashion superadds others, originating in fantastical notions of beauty. Corsets are employed to modify the shape, to render the chest as small below, and as broad above, as possible, and to increase the elevation, fulness, and prominence of the bosom. To show how this affects the condition of the body, we must begin by giving a short description of the thorax or chest, which is the subject of this artificial compression.
Every one who has seen a skeleton, knows that the chest consists of a cavity protected by a curious frame-work of bones. These are, 1st, the back-bone, (consisting of vertebræ, or short bones jointed into one another,) which sustains the whole upper part of the trunk; 2d, the breast-bone, about seven or eight inches long, and composed of three pieces; and 3dly, the ribs, of which there are generally twentyfour. The twelve ribs on each side are all fixed to the back-bone behind; seven of these, the seven uppermost, are also attached to the breast-bone before, and are, therefore, called true ribs. The eighth rib has its end turned up, and rests on the seventh; the ninth rests in the same way on the eighth; but the tenth, eleventh, and twelfth are not connected with one another in front at all. The fore extremity of each rib consists not of bone, but of an elastic substance called cartilage. The elasticity of this substance, combined with the oblique position of the ribs, constitutes a beautiful provision, in consequence of which the chest enlarges and contracts its volume, to afford free play to the lungs.
We now wish to call attention to the form of this cavity, which, as we have seen, is surrounded and protected by the back-bone, ribs, and breast-bone, and is called the thorax, or chest. The uppermost pair of ribs, which lie just at the bottom of the neck, are very short; the next pair is rather longer; the third longer still; and thus they go on increasing in length to the seventh pair, or last true ribs, after which the length diminishes, but without materially contracting the size of the cavity, because the false ribs only go round a part of the body. Hence the chest has a sort of conical shape, or it may be compared to the bee-hives used in this country, the narrow or pointed end being next the neck, and the broad end undermost. The natural form of the thorax, in short, is just the reverse of the fashionable shape of the waist. The latter is narrow below, and wide above; the former is narrow above, and wide below.
The lower part of the thorax is also much more compressible, and of course more easily injured by ligatures than the upper. In the upper part, the bones form a complete circle; and, from the small obliquity of the ribs, this circle presents a great power of resistance to external pressure. But the last five ribs, called the false ribs, besides being placed more obliquely, become weaker as they decrease in length, and having no support in front, their power of resisting external pressure is probably six times less than that of the true ribs. Hence ligatures applied to this part of the body may contract the natural size of the cavity perhaps one half. Nature, in this instance, has entrusted the belle with a discretionary power, guarding against its abuse, however, by severe penalties. If she chooses to brave the consequences, she may always, with the help of lace and cord, produce a great change on this part of her person.
From the great care nature has bestowed to strengthen the outer shell of the thorax, and to combine mobility with strength, we may judge of the importance of the organs within, and of the value of free motion to their healthy action. It is a further proof of this, as Soemmerring observes, that the ribs are the first part of the bony frame-work which nature forms; for, in the unborn child, no other bones except those of the ear are so perfect. The contents of the thorax are,—first, the heart, which is the centre of the circulating system, and which, for the sake of its metaphorical offices, every lady must be anxious to keep from injury;—next, the lungs, which occupy by far the largest space, and of the delicacy of whose operations every one may judge. There are, besides, either within the thorax, or in juxtaposition with it, the stomach, liver, and kidneys, with the œsophagus, the trachea, or windpipe, part of the intestines, and many nerves, all intimately connected with the vital powers. Most of these organs are not only of primary importance in themselves, but, through the nerves, arteries, &c., their influence extends to the head, and the remotest parts of the limbs, so that when they are injured, health is poisoned at its source, and the mischief always travels to other parts of the system.
Imagine, now, what is the consequence of applying compression, by corsets of some unyielding material, to a cavity enclosing so many delicate organs, whose free action is essential to health. First, the lowest part of the shell of the thorax yields most; the false ribs, and the lower true ribs, are pressed inwards; the whole viscera in this part of the body, including part of the intestines, are squeezed close together and forced upwards; and, as the pressure is continued above, they are forced higher still. If the lacing is carried further, the breast-bone is raised, and sometimes bent; the collar-bone protrudes its inner extremity; and the shoulder-blades are forced backwards. The under part of the lungs is pressed together, and the entrance of the blood into it hindered; the abdominal viscera, being least protected, suffer severely; the stomach is compressed, its distention prevented, and its situation and form changed, giving rise to imperfect digestion; the blood is forced up to the head, where it generates various complaints; the liver has its shape altered, and its functions obstructed; the bones having their natural motions constrained, distortion ensues, and the high shoulder, the twisted spine, or breast-bone, begins at last to manifest itself through the integuments and the clothes.
Another effect of tight corsets, says the essayist, is, that those who have been long so closely laced, become at last unable to hold themselves erect, or move with comfort without them, but, as is very justly said, fall together, in consequence of the natural form and position of the ribs being altered. The muscles of the back are weakened and crippled, and cannot maintain themselves in their natural position for any length of time. The spine, too, no longer accustomed to bear the destined weight of the body, bends and sinks down. Where tight lacing is practised, young women, from fifteen to twenty years of age, are found so dependent upon their corsets, that they faint whenever they lay them aside, and therefore are obliged to have themselves laced before going to sleep. For as soon as the thorax and abdomen are relaxed, by being deprived of their usual support, the blood rushing downwards, in consequence of the diminished resistance to its motion, empties the vessels of the head, and thus occasions fainting.
“From 1760 to about 1770,” says Soemmerring, “it was the fashion in Berlin and other parts of Germany, and also in Holland a few years ago, to apply corsets to children. This practice fell into disuse, in consequence of its being observed, that children who did not wear corsets grew up straight, while those who were treated with this extraordinary care, got by it a high shoulder or a hunch. Many families might be named, in which parental fondness selected the handsomest of several boys to put in corsets, and the result was, that these alone were hunched. The deformity was attributed at first to the improper mode of applying the corsets, till it was discovered that no child thus invested, grew up straight, not to mention the risk of consumption and rupture which were likewise incurred by using them. I, for my part, affirm, that I do not know any woman who, by tight lacing, (that is, by artificial means,) has obtained ‘a fine figure,’ in whom I could not, by accurate examination, point out either a high shoulder, oblique compressed ribs, a lateral incurvation of the spine in the form of an italic S, or some other distortion. I have had opportunities of verifying this opinion among ladies of high condition, who, as models of fine form, were brought forward for the purpose of putting me to silence.”
Young ladies in course of time hope to become wives, and wives to become mothers. Even in this last stage, few females have the courage to resist a practice which is in general use, though to them it is trebly injurious. But it is sufficient to glance at this branch of the subject, on which, for obvious reasons, we cannot follow our medical instructer. It is lamentable, however, that mothers who have themselves experienced the bitter fruits of tight lacing, still permit their daughters to indulge in it. There is, in truth, no tyranny like the tyranny of fashion. “I have found mothers of discernment and experience,” says Soemmerring, “who predicted that in their 25th year, a hunch would inevitably be the lot of their daughters, whom they nevertheless allowed to wear corsets, because they were afraid to make their children singular.”
But it is time to speak of the diseases produced by the passion for slender waists. “One is astonished,” says Soemmerring, “at the number of diseases which corsets occasion. Those I have subjoined rest on the authority of the most eminent physicians. Tight lacing produces—
“Headach, giddiness, tendency to fainting, pain in the eyes, pain and ringing in the ears, bleeding at the nose, shortness of breath, spitting of blood, consumption, derangement of the circulation, palpitation of the heart, water in the chest, loss of appetite, squeamishness, eructations, vomiting of blood, depraved digestion, flatulence, diarrhœa, colic pains, induration of the liver, dropsy, and rupture. It is also followed by melancholy, hysteria, and many diseases peculiar to the female constitution, which it is not necessary to enumerate in detail.”
But the injury does not fall merely on the inward structure of the body, but also on its outward beauty, and on the temper and feelings with which that beauty is associated. Beauty is in reality but another name for that expression of countenance which is the index of sound health, intelligence, good feelings, and peace of mind. All are aware, that uneasy feelings, existing habitually in the breast, speedily exhibit their signature on the countenance; and that bitter thoughts, or a bad temper, spoil the human face divine of its grace. But it is not so generally known that irksome or painful sensations, though merely of a physical nature, by a law equally certain, rob the temper of its sweetness, and, as a consequence, the countenance of the more ethereal and better part of its beauty. Pope attributes the rudeness of a person usually bland and polished, to the circumstance, that “he had not dined;” in other words, his stomach was in bad order. But there are many other physical pains besides hunger that sour the temper; and, for our part, if we found ourselves sitting at dinner with a man whose body was girt on all sides by board and bone, like the north pole by thick-ribbed ice, we should no more expect to find grace, politeness, amenity, vivacity, and good-humor, in such a companion, than in Prometheus with a vulture battening on his vitals, or in Cerberus, whose task is to growl all day long in his chains.