The collected works of William Hazlitt, Vol. 02 (of 12) — John Shaqi
The collected works of William Hazlitt, Vol. 02 (of 12)Hazlitt, William
General
The collected works of William Hazlitt, Vol. 02 (of 12)
Hazlitt, William
English essays -- 19th century
‘My father was alike extreme in his anger, and in his compassion. He
used to beat me, pull my hair up by the roots, and drag me by the ears
along the ground, till they ran with blood. Indeed my repeated faults
were so unpardonable, that he could scarcely blame himself. Yet probably
within an hour after he had exercised his severity upon me, he would
break out into passionate exclamations of fondness, alarming himself
lest he should some time or other do me a serious mischief, and
declaring that rather than so, he would a thousand times prefer instant
death.
‘Chastisements like these were grievous, but they were by no means the
whole of what I had to encounter. I know not how it happened, but at
this early age I was entrusted with business rather like an adult than a
child.
‘Towards Litchfield, on the right, lay Cannock heath and town; and
adjoining to this heath, on the left, there were coal-pits situated in a
remarkably heavy clay country: (I speak from childish recollection, and
may therefore expect to be pardoned, should I in description commit any
local errors; as I have never been at Cannock, the coal-pits, or the
heath, since that period). Desirous of employing his asses, yet averse
to go himself (I know not for what reason) my father frequently sent me
to these coal-pits to get a single ass loaded, and to drive him over the
heath to Rugeley, there to find a customer for my coals. The article was
so cheap, and so near, that the profits could be but very small, yet
they were something. Had the weather been fine when I was sent on these
errands, the task would not have been so difficult, nor the wonder so
great; but at the time I was unfortunately sent there, I have a perfect
recollection of deep ruts, of cattle, both asses and horses, unable to
drag their legs through the clay, and of carts and waggons that were set
fast in it. I do not mean that these accidents happened every day, but
they were common to the place: and to poor helpless me, with a creature
that could scarcely stand under its burthen, they were not less frequent
than to others. When any body that could assist me happened to be near,
I thought myself in luck; but if I was obliged to run from coal-pit to
coal-pit, to request the man who turned the wheel to come and help me,
the chance of compliance was little. I often got nothing but a surly
curse and a denial; so till some unlooked-for accident brought me
relief, there my loaded ass, sometimes heaving a groan at what he
suffered, was obliged to stay.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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