A Memoir of Robert Blincoe, an Orphan Boy: Sent from the workhouse of St. Pancras, London, at seven years of age, to endure the horrors of a cotton-mill, through his infancy and youth, with a minute detail of his sufferings, being the first memoir of the kind published. — John Stuart Mill — John Shaqi
A Memoir of Robert Blincoe, an Orphan Boy: Sent from the workhouse of St. Pancras, London, at seven years of age, to endure the horrors of a cotton-mill, through his infancy and youth, with a minute detail of his sufferings, being the first memoir of the kind published.
John Stuart Mill · en
The children rested one night at Nottingham in the warehouses of
their new masters—the next day they were led out to see the castle,
Mortimer-hole and other local curiosities, in the forest of Sherwood,
which are so celebrated by bards of ancient times. Many shoes, bonnets,
and many other articles of clothing having been lost upon the journey,
others were supplied—but withal Blincoe found himself treated as a
parish orphan, and he calculated on being received and treated as
if he had been a gentleman’s son sent on a visit to the house of a
friend or relative. By the concurring testimony of other persons who
had been entrapped by similar artifices, it appears certain, that the
_purveyors_ of infant labourers to supply the masters of cotton and silk
factories with cheap labourers, adopted this vile, unmanly expedient,
in most of their transactions. It will be seen, by the evidence of Sir
Robert Peel, Baronet, David Owen, Esq. and other witnesses examined
in 1816, that, when children were first wanted to attend machinery in
cotton-factories, such was the aversion of parents and guardians to
this noxious employment, that scarcely any would submit to consign
their offspring to those mills, the owners of which, under the specious
pretext of diminishing the burdens occasioned by poor-rates, prevailed
on churchwardens and overseers, to put their infant paupers into their
hands. Since then, by a gradual progress of poverty and depravity, in the
county of Lancashire alone, there are some thousand fathers, mothers, and
relatives, who live upon the produce of infant labour, though alloyed by
the dreadful certainty, that their gain is acquired by the sacrifice of
their children’s health and morals, and too frequently of their lives,
whereby the fable of Saturn devouring his children, seems realised in
modern times.
CHAP. III.