# An account of the dreadful Accident and great loss of lives which occurred at Kirkcaldy, on Sunday the 15th June, 1828

CHEAP TRACTS, NO. 8.
(Second Edition.)
AN ACCOUNT OF
THE
DREADFUL ACCIDENT
AND
GREAT LOSS OF LIVES
WHICH OCCURRED AT KIRKCALDY,
On Sunday the 15th June, 1828,
By which upwards of twenty-eight persons lost their lives, and many were severely injured.
DUNFERMLINE:
PRINTED AND SOLD BY JOHN MILLER.
Dreadful Accident,
Sunday, 15th June. 1828.
Since the fatal accident which took place in the New Church, Kilmarnock, about five and twenty years ago, when upwards of a score of individuals lost their lives by the falling of a staircase, and the rush which it occasioned, no event of a similar description, and attended with results equally calamitous, has occurred in this country until the fatal catastrophe of Sunday last at Kirkcaldy. This disaster, however, far transcends every thing of the kind that has yet happened in any place of worship in Scotland; and whether we consider the occasion on which it befel the hapless victims, the sudden and immediate destruction of life of which it was productive, or the still more dreadful and appalling devastation which might have ensued, there can be no doubt that it ought to be regarded, and will long be remembered, as one of the most awful dispensations of Providence, and at the same time one of the most impressive and memorable examples ​the precarious and uncertain tenure of human existence. The principal facts, which have been (illegible text)xiously and industriously collected upon the (illegible text)ot, may be very shortly told.
Being the Communion Sabbath in Kirkcaldy, the parish church, as generally happens on such occasions, was fuller than ordinary throughout the early part of the day; and it being understood that the Rev. Edward Irving, of the Caledonian Chapel, London, the son-in-law of the clergyman and formerly a resident in Kirkcaldy, was to perform the evening service, a great additional crowd, impelled by curiosity or other motives, flocked to hear that celebrated person. The consequence was, that after the doors were opened, and the bell had rung for about ten minutes, every part of the church was filled, and numbers (illegible text)ere standing in the passages; but it was not "crowded to suffocation," as has been erroneously stated. At this moment, however,—that is about two or three minutes before the service was to commence, and close upon six o’clock,—the (illegible text)ole of the north-western range of galleries, (illegible text)the right side of the pulpit, extending to ra(illegible text) more than fifty feet in length, yielded to (illegible text) unusual pressure of the multitude it supported, and fell, with a tremendous crash, upon the (illegible text) more hapless assemblage underneath. The (illegible text) indication of the catastrophe was given by (illegible text) Spear’s gallery, which is the centre division (illegible text)he range; and a gentleman who occupied it, (illegible text)just remarked that he felt the gallery sinking, when, instantly, the whole mass was precipitated ​downwards with a tremendous crash; those persons in the front having been thrown backwards, and those behind forwards, so that by far the greater number fell head-foremost, amongst the rafters, beams, and rubbish into that part of the church which is immediately below. At this moment the scene was indescribably terrific and appalling. A dense cloud of dust instantly arose, and for a few seconds enveloped those who were overwhelmed amidst the wreck in its suffocating volume. Shrieks, screams, groans, and exclamations of all sorts, intermingled with the voices of individuals calling aloud for help, or attempting to allay the consternation, and counsel the multitude against rushing suddenly to the doors, now rose in most heart-rending dissonance. But the dreadful panic was not to be stayed. On the contrary, the multitude, impressed with a momentary conviction that the whole range of galleries which sweep round the church would tumble down, made a simultaneous rush to the doors, tearing up and breaking down every thing, which obstructed their progress.
The fatal consequences which have ensued from this accident were not so much occasioned by the accident itself as by the terror which seized on the people when they beheld the fall of the galleries. According to the most accurate estimate, there were in the galleries that gave way upwards of 250 people, including those who were in the passages, and about an equal number underneath, there being in this ​manner about 500 persons exposed to the immediate consequences of the accident. Those who were in these galleries escaped generally with bruises and contusions more or less severe; and of those who were under them, only three persons, Mrs Beveridge and two others, as far as we can learn, actually lost their lives by the fall of the joists above them. The former was killed on the spot, while two blind boys, her twin sons, who were seated beside her, escaped unhurt. It was stated that she was in the act of leaning forward when one of the joists fell, and rested on her neck, which was pressed on the other side against the top of a pew.
The casualties would in this manner have been comparatively few, if the rest of the congregation had retained sufficient presence of mind to have remained for a little time in their seats. But this in a mixed multitude of men, women, and children, having along with them, in many cases, their nearest relatives, for whom they were even more anxious than for themselves, was hardly to be expected; and, accordingly, as soon as the crash took place, they rushed, as we have already noticed, in the wildest consternation to the doors, and through the windows, and many were suffocated or trampled to death, particularly at the bottom of the gallery stairs, and in the vestibule, where there was a pressure from three opposite points, namely, the two gallery stairs, and the body of the church. The perils of this dreadful struggle for life were perhaps increased by another circumstance, which ​was, that the friends of individuals, fathers and mothers who had children, or aged and helpless relatives in the church, some of whom were known to have fallen down, made anxious exertions for their safety, by endeavouring, though in vain, to stem the human torrent that was rolling over them. The temporary stoppages which these fruitless efforts occasioned, only rendered the multitude behind more desperate, and more determined to force their way out, and their power was resistless—most of those who fell, fell to rise no more.
Many escaped through the windows, which are nearly all broken; and from those on the gallery stairs, which were broken open by the beadle from the outside, part of the crowd rolled out, and were dragged from beneath to prevent others falling above them. Here also several accidents took place, some of them severe. It is remarkable, that many, who have escaped with no injury, have no recollection whatever of what took place, or how they escaped. It would seem, that the terrors of the scene had for a time estranged their mental faculties; several were taken away actually deranged, and many still labour under a disturbed nervous excitement, which will take some time to subside.
Such persons as had sufficient fortitude to remain in their pews escaped unhurt. Several who were under the gallery when it fell, prostrated themselves in the pews, and also sustained no injury.—Many reached the open air in a state approaching to nakedness their clothes being literally torn off them.
​When the tumult had in some measure subsided, and the bodies of the dead and dying had been brought out and laid upon the greensward of the graves at the north-west angle of the church, a scene of a more mournful, and still more withering description ensued. Such a number of human beings, some in the first blush of life, the greater proportion in the prime and vigour of their years, hurried in one moment of wild strife and agony into eternity, was of itself sufficient to shake the firmest nerves, and to appal the stoutest heart. But there were many accessory circumstances calculated, if possible, to make a still deeper impression, and to strain the chords of feeling to the very highest pitch. There, at that moment of unspeakable horror, might be seen parents suddenly bereft of children, children deprived of their parents, brothers bending over the dead bodies of their sisters, and sisters over those of their brothers, the lonely widow gazing in speechless agony at the inanimate frames of those she best loved, and who formed her sole comfort and stay, with crowds of relatives, and persons of all classes, either bewailing a loss, or awaiting in dreadful suspense the announcement of some bereavement; while the anxious and too often unavailing efforts of the surgeons, surrounded as they were with every form and manifestation of grief in all its bitterness, and with the dissonant but heart-rending cries of parental, filial, or fraternal lamentation, formed altogether a picture of deep and real tragedy such as it is more easy to ​imagine than pourtray. On the hearts and minds of those who witnessed it, it is written in characters never to be effaced; and it is impossible to listen to their simple and affecting descriptions without the strongest emotion. The extent of the loss actually sustained, however, may now be considered as pretty accurately determined.
The number of killed in all amounted to twenty-eight; and some of these were attended with circumstances peculiarly affecting:-Three young women of the name of Mathewson, and a cousin whom they had with them, were all buried in one grave.—They were the sole support of their mother, who is left in very destitute circumstances. So dreadfully was she overwhelmed by this unexpected and heavy calamity, that fear was entertained for her life. A young lady, a stranger, had in the first moment of alarm effected her escape, but returned in search of her mother, and perished.
Besides those who were either killed on the spot or died soon afterwards, about 150 persons have more or less suffered from the injuries they received on this melancholy occasion; and many persons were confined to bed on Tuesday and yesterday who had been walking about all Monday. It is a remarkable circumstance, that so few of those injuries are of a serious nature, but some of them threaten to prove fatal. There are only two cases of fracture, one of the collar-bone, and the other of the neck of the thigh-bone, but the patients, both ​women, are doing well. This must excite the astonishment of everyone who examines the appearances which the church still presents. In the desperate struggle to get out many of the doors of the pews have been broken, book-boards have been torn up, and wherever there was any corner or projection which could be seized hold of, it is torn down. The pressure, indeed, appears to have been so enormous in many parts, that it overthrew every thing which came in its way; and all those who were caught in its vortex had their clothes more or less torn, while some reached the open air almost in a state of nakedness. Fragments, chiefly of female dress, as bits of silk, broken combs, and ether small articles, were scattered about the church, even on Tuesday, after every thing of value had been removed—and sufficiently attested the nature and extent of the death struggle which had taken place. Besides, a considerable number of persons escaped, or rather was forced out, through the windows, particularly that of the staircase leading to the south gallery; and as the descent in all cases were several feet in height, and the violence with which they were ejected extreme, the fewness of fracture is truly astonishing. One man, indeed, was less fortunate. Standing in the southern gallery, immediately after the crash, and as if fascinated by the horror of the scene before him, he leaped through a window down into the area, and fell prostrate, but he immediately recovered himself, and springing to his feet, as if wholly unhurt, ​uttered some inarticulate expression, and then instantly dropped down and expired. Several persons succeeded in getting out of this gallery by the window immediately to the left of that now mentioned, and descending on the top of a small portico a little below the sill, reached the area of the church-yard without injury.
A variety of remarkable and some almost miraculous escapes were mentioned to us, Mr ———, surgeon, Kirkcaldy, was in the body of the church when the gallery fell; but his family and his sister-in-law, were in the gallery at the moment of the crash, and for a time literally buried in the ruins; yet most fortunately they escaped unharmed from their perilous situation. The family of Dr ——— was in nearly the same terrible plight, and had equal good fortune. Mr ———, innkeeper, and his daughters, were also involved amidst the rafters and rubbish, yet escaped with a few trifling bruises. The front work of the gallery, after yielding a little outwards before the crash, having remained standing, thirty-six individuals clung to it, and were saved. Several persons were observed to seize hold of and suspend themselves from the chandeliers, by which means they escaped being entangled in the rush, and were thus preserved. A little girl, daughter of Mr ———, effected her escape by a union of agility and presence of mind which we heard warmly eulogised by several who had witnessed it; and various other instances of a similar kind were stated to us. Amongst the numbers who were trodden down ​at the bottom of the fatal stair-case, we have only heard of one man who has survived. By the pressure and the suffocating heat and dust, this person was rendered insensible; but when extricated, and removed to the open air, he recovered a little, then vomited freely, and is now out of all danger. It is remarkable, too, that those persons who were in the gallery which fell, generally escaped with bruises and contusions more or less severe; and those who had the firmness and presence of mind to keep their seats were nearly all, we believe, equally fortunate. In fact, this was their only, or at all events their best chance of safety; but, unhappily, a multitude, under the influence of the wildest consternation, is insensible to every motive or feeling except the panic by which it is actuated, and rushes blindly into the jaws of the very destruction which the brute impulse of fear impels it to shun. In this case the rush was rendered still more tremendous, and the mortality increased, by the friends of individuals who had fallen, trying to stem the human torrent that was rolling over them. After each momentary stoppage, it burst forth anew with resistless fury, and the generous efforts to save only added to the number of victims.
Such is a faint and imperfect account of this truly deplorable calamity, which has plunged Kirkcaldy and its neighbourhood into mourning, and excited a strong sensation wherever the news of it has reached. To ascribe it, however, to the crowd which had assembled upon this ​occasion would be equally erroneous and unjust. The real cause was the utter insufficiency of the church, particularly the galleries, as will incontestably appear from the following particulars. This edifice, which is modern, was built in 1807, twenty-one years ago. The contractor was a person named Alexander Macfarlane, a wright from Perth; and amongst other things, it was one of the specifications of his contract that the transverse joists or beams of the gallery should be inserted into the walls while building. Accordingly, when the latter had attained the requisite height, he applied for the timbers to a wood merchant in Kirkcaldy, but being unable to give security for the payment of the price, they were refused; and the church was built and roofed in, in direct violation of this part of his compact, and without any means having been provided in the shape of a wall-plate or otherwise, either for the insertion or support of these all-important beams. Hence, when they were procured, they appear to have been rather laid against the wall than inserted in it, the holes in which the extremities were placed were scarcely an inch deep; and, in some cases, it is evident they have been found too short for this, as we observed several joists which had not reached the wall at all, and were attached to it solely by a thin narrow plate of iron with a few nails. Nor is this even all. The lower extremities of these transverse beams or joists rested upon a longitudinal beam, supported by pillars, which runs along the front of the gallery; ​but here the same reckless rapacity, or rather spirit of culpable homicide by anticipation, has been at work. The grooves or notches in the longitudinal beam for receiving the lower extremities of the cross beams are only an inch deep at the upper part, and scarcely a quarter of an inch at the lower; so that if the front of the gallery had by any accident been deflected half an inch from the perpendicular, the destruction of the whole was inevitable. When the church was "finished," as it was called, this Macfarlane had become bankrupt, and the litigation, we believe, took place between his creditors and the heritors of the parish as to its sufficiency; the consequence of which was, that the whole was referred to a builder, who, confining his examination to the mason-work, reported it as sufficient; but the heritors never, we understand, received any report as to the sufficiency of the carpenters’ and joiners’ work; and it is notorious that the galleries have all along been considered insecure and dangerous. So very general was this apprehension some years ago, that it was found necessary to put in two additional pillars immediately behind those at the extremities of the semicircle facing the pulpit; and had it not been for this slight precaution, the whole would unquestionably have tumbled down on Sunday last, and buried hundreds more in its ruins. As it is, the whole of the southern gallery is damaged; the transverse beams have evidently been drawn by the shock from their shallow sockets; the lath and plaster are broken; ​and the whole ready to fall with the slightest concussion. Nay more, we have not a shadow of doubt in our mind, that had the congregation on Sunday been fairly assembled before the accident of the west gallery took place, the concussion usually produced by the rising of the multitude to prayer, would have occasioned the downfal of the entire range, and led to a calamity incomparably more dreadful than even that which has actually occurred.
The following measurements and calculations will perhaps serve to give our readers a clearer idea of the nature and extent of the accident than any description, however minute. The galleries swept round three sides of the church, which is in form a parallelogram. The portion immediately in front of the pulpit, which stands at the northern end or gable, is a semicircle, from the extremities of which two sides, each about fifty or fifty-one feet in length, run longitudinally in a parallel direction along the whole church. The average horizontal breadth of each of those sides is about sixteen feet, and they are raised at an angle of from 80 to 88 degrees. The one which gave way on Sunday last was that on the right hand of the pulpit, which is towards the west; and from the side which still remains we find that it must have contained 21 seats in all, each fitted to hold eight persons with perfect ease and comfort. But as the church was crowded, let us suppose that there were ten persons in each seat, and forty standing in the passages. This we know to be ​a moderate computation ; and it gives 250 individuals in the part of the gallery which fell. At a low calculation there must have been fully an equal number immediately underneath; so that, at the moment of the catastrophe, probably more than 500 human beings were buried in the ruin and havoc with which the rapacity of a needy or unprincipled contractor, and the unaccountable negligence of the legal conservators of the edifice are alone chargeable. From the appearances presented by the wreck it seems evident that the immediate cause of the accident was the yielding of the longitudinal beam into which the lower extremities of the joists were so slightly inserted ; in consequence of which they slipped out of the sockets, and the whole came down, with the exception of this beam and the front work attached to it, which seems to have instantly after recovered its vertical position. The church was originally calculated to contain 1600, and it is supposed that upwards of 1800 persons were within its walls at the time when the catastrophe took place.
The panic and consternation which prevailed in Kirkcaldy when the lamentable news first spread is indescribable; and the town continued in a state of great agitation throughout the whole of Monday. In the course of that day the Council Chamber was crowded with people claiming hats, shawls, trinkets, bibles, and other articles which had been lost in the tumult; and the Provost with a number of other gentlemen, were indefatigable in their endeavours to satisfy ​the numerous claimants. Immediately after the disaster the special constables were called out, and continuing on duty throughout the whole of Monday, Tuesday, and part of yesterday, these gentlemen have been of the greatest use in preserving and effecting the restoration of property.
The exertions of Drs Johnston and Chalmers to give medical assistance to the unfortunate sufferers was beyond all praise. They bled numbers in the church-yard, and throughout the whole night went from house to house, giving that relief and advice which their eminent talents so well enabled them to afford.
On Tuesday evening the scene changed to one of a more mournful character. On that day we witnessed no less than ten funerals in Kirkcaldy; and in one of these four bodies, being those of the Mathewsons and their cousin Ann Smith, were at once conveyed to the church-yard, and deposited in the same grave. One uninformed of the cause might have taken this town for a "city of the plague," and supposed that the frequent sombre processions which met him at every turn, were escorting the victims of an unsparing pestilence to their last resting-place. All these funerals, though of persons in the lower ranks of life, were attended spontaneously and uninvited by the venerable Provost and all the respectable people of the place. While standing in the church-yard, looking at the interment of one of the corpses, we were much affected with the simple appeal made ​by an old man to the persons who had escorted it to the burying-ground:—"Any of you, gentlemen, who are disengaged will be so good as go down and help to bring up Thomas Watson's wife.”
Mr Irving was desirious to preach, on Monday night, in the church-yard, and was only dissuaded from so doing by the remonstrances of the very respectable Provost of the burgh. On Tuesday he was also desirious to preach in the church-yard, or in an adjoining park, but was prevented by the state of the weather from such an exhibition, which was in every respect uncalled for, and entirely at variance with the feelings of the people. We may add, however, that Mr Irving was extremely active in rendering assistance when the accident happened; and that he has been equally humane and liberal in visiting, and rendering pecuniary assistance when it was required.
At a meeting, which was numerously and respectably attended, the situation of the surviving relations of some of the unfortunate sufferers was taken into consideration; and a committee, consisting of the Magistrates and three other gentlemen, was appointed to afford what pecuniary or other relief they might judge necessary. A subscription for this purpose has been opened; and so far as distress can in this way be alleviated, we hope it will be liberally administered.
Sunday after the Accident.
The tragic scene that occurred last Sunday in this town has excited an interest unparalleled in its annals. This day week all were in high spirits, expecting to hear one of the theological stars of the age. How quickly was the spirit of the dream changed into mourning. Some who were in the bouyancy of youthful spirits, were, in the short space of a few minutes, extended cold and lifeless on the ground; the mother was heard wailing her lost child, the widow her husband, and the friend was seen clinging to the inanimate body of him that was dear to him as a brother, refusing to be separated, for he could not believe the extent of his loss. Seven have since died, but we can now state that all the injured are in a fair way of recovery; and must add, that it is now matter of surprise that the calamity did not prove much greater than it really was.
An architect has since surveyed the south gallery, and was astonished to finds some of the joists altogether off the great beam,—having no other support to prevent their fall than the nails that attached them to the floor above. Farther, he observed that the pillars which support the beam of what was the north gallery, are not placed in its centre, but towards the outer angle.
This day Mr Martin preached in the forenoon from a tent, to a considerable audience assembled in a ​small park adjoining the church-yard; and there was a sermon in the evening at Abbotshall. The object of this arrangement was, that, as some might be unwilling or unable to attend divine worship in the open air, all might be accommodated; Mr Martin took for his text the words in Luke, xii.—40 "Be ye therefore ready also." The other clergymen of the town also embraced the occasion to dwell on the uncertain tenure of human life, and the mysterious dispensations of Providence. One chose as the subject of his discourse, "Shall there be evil in a city, and the Lord hath not done it;" and another, the fall of the tower of Siloam.
The number of new-made graves in the church-yard was an impressive spectacle. This spot is invested with a deep and melancholy interest, and the large mound raised above the sisters Mathewsons, arrests the attention of all. Here may be seen nearly twenty "brown hillocks" where last Sunday grew the green sward. The awful stilness of the scene is an eloquent picture of death, and the frailty of man ; and cold indeed must be the heart that can withstand its monitory impulses. The most of the people appeared in mourning ; a solemnity was marked in almost every face; an awe, as if all were sensible that some dire convulsion had bereaved them of some of their dearest relatives. It may be worthy of notice, that several, particularly females, who were carried home in a state of stupor, on coming to their senses, had not the slightest recollection of the tragic scene in which they had been sharers.
Farther Particulars.
One of the first persons who discovered the danger was Mr Edward Sang. He sat immediately under the longitudinal beam of the gallery and a small quantity of dust falling upon him, which was followed by particles of lime, he looked up, and observing the whole mass of the floor coming down, as it were in a body, he made a desperate spring forward, and alighted in a passage through which the minister enters from the vestry to the pulpit. By the time he had reached this spot the whole had fallen.—A little boy, about eight years of age, made a singular escape. His mother was crushed against the wall, but still held him in her hand. In the confusion, she lost her hold of him, and naturally supposed he had perished. But when one of the bodies was drawn out, the boy was found unhurt, and rolled up in a mantle attached to the corpse. —One individual, who lost a daughter, had his whole family with him in his seat, which was in the centre of the church, and he had the presence of mind to remain till the confusion was over. He endeavoured to calm the alarm of his family, and to keep them together; but when he reached the door the first object he beheld was the corpse of his daughter stretched on a tombstone. —Another, a tall and powerful man, with a boy by his side, at the request of some others, pushed forward to pull open the bolts of the south door, and returning in search of his son, found him on the floor trampled to death by the very persons in whose behalf he had so generously ​exerted himself. His appearance when he saw what had befallen his son is said to have been beyond description heart-rending.—Sarah Penman who was before peculiarly unfortunate, having lost her husband and son both by violent deaths within two years, was in church with her son, an infirm lad. She was seen in the utmost agony crying "My puir object, my puir laddie," and to rush into the densest part of the crowd to assist him. He escaped with trifling injury, but the unfortunate mother was trampled to death and so dreadfully mangled as only to he recognised by the colour of her gown. The same was the condition of many of the other bodies; and many bore no marks at all of external violence. One woman, had merely a mark on her breast, as if it had been pressed by a heavy iron shod shoe.
The following lines, occasioned by this dreadful catastrophe, are the effusion of a pious and amiable heart, and exhibit poetical powers of no common rate.
But yesterday,
On such a Sabbath, holy, cool, serene, A Christian flock had met, with pious hearts, To feast as the disciples of their Saviour, And eat of the Last Supper, which to many Was in sad truth the last; and they were fill’d With holy things, and praised their glorious God;
And ere the sun should set, they came once more The sacred words of life to hear, and strengthen The vows of virtue which their hearts had paid. Sure, they were ripe in faith and strong in hope, ​And every taint of earth had vanished As their renewed souls drew near to God ? And kindred faces sat in love together, Beaming affection ; brother smiled on sister, Mother on son, and father on his daughter, What looks of holiness, that seem’d to say, Are we not truly blest?—and some, perchance. Look’d wistfully towards that happy time When old and young, in their appointed season, Together gather'd by the reaper, Death, Should live for ever in the light of Heaven, Of which this earthly foretaste was so sweet; And their full hearts, perchance, were warmly breathing,— "How pleasant are thy tabernacles, Lord! With mercy’s oil my head thou hast anointed; My cup o’erflows even in the wilderness; Yea, though I wander through the dreary vale Of death’s dark shadow, I will fear no evil;— For thou, oh Lord, art with me, and thy rod And staff they comfort me.—Yea all my life, Goodness and mercy, sure, shall follow me. And I shall dwell within the House of God For evermore.”
Hark, whence arose that shriek Of agony! that fearful, dreadful crash! That hum of many voices in despair! How stream the people from the fated temple, With looks of horror,—wildly—wildly gazing! Ye who desired to be with God, are there! His house was your last earthly dwelling-place; His mercy, your last meal ; his sacred blood, Your latest cup; the cup of death, the gate ​Of life beyond the grave; your last support, His staff; his rod of chastisement, salvation!
No pang was yours; death came untold, undream’d, At once, and ye are sleeping.—Shall we mourn? Were not ye ripe for death?—Ah, ye have gained A blessed lot! to sup in Paradise! Not yours to see those whom ye loved on earth Torn from your arms by withering decay; To feel the bursting heart, when broke the tie That bound you to the dead,—No, ye are not in death divided,—brother died with sister, Mother with son, and father with his daughter, Together did your hearts aspire to Heav’n; Together are your souls before your God!
Sleep peacefully; ye blessed martyrs, sleep; And wake in blessedness. Your earthly garment, Already, in your feast of love, thrown off, When faith was pointing out the way to Heaven, is dropt for ever. How was recompensed That little moment of untold of horror, When death appeared so dreadful!— sure you oped Your eyes upon the eternal throne of God, And saw your heavenly Saviour smile upon you, And bid you welcome to his Father’s house!
Oh God! that it were mine, thus blest to die Ripe for the sickle, with the friends I love, Seal’d as thy servant at thy holy table, Then snatch’d away to Heaven! Alfred.
The following are the Names of the Unfortunate Sufferers.
Martha Mathewson, aged 28, Jean Mathewson, aged 24, and Isabella Mathewson, aged 22, mill-spinners, Kirkcaldy.
Agnes Smith, mill-spinner, Kirkcaldy, Mrs Beveridge, Kirkcaldy. Grace Cunningham, ditto. Mary Anderson, ditto, aged 16 or 17 Thomas Miller, ditto, aged 13. Janet Cunningham, servant, ditto. Peter Nicol, ditto, aged 8. Janet Currer, servant, ditto Henrietta Brown, spinster, ditto. Nancy Johnstone, residing at Pathhead. Janet Stenhouse, Westbridge. Wemyss Murray, Newton, Abbotshall Mrs Watson, Kirkcaldy, Sarah Penman, poultry keeper at Dunnikier, Elizabeth Irvine, servant, at Glentarkie David Lawson, weaver, Park, Kirkcaldy. Robert M‘Caul. weaver, ditto aged 19. John Hepburn, shoe-maker, Links John Barron, flax-dresser, Abbotshall. John Brown, weaver, Pathhead. James Oswald, sen. father-in-law to the preceding. Alex. M‘Dougall, a boy belonging to Kinghorn. Miss Wingate, from Glasgow. Mathew Brodie, weaver, Links. Jas. Grant, tailor, Pathhead, died Tuesday after. And since that time seven more, whose names we have not ascertained, have died of the injuries they had received.
This work was published before January 1, 1929, and is in the public domain worldwide because the author died at least 100 years ago.
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