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
Robert Blincoe, the subject of the Memoir, is now about 35 years of age,
and resides at No. 19, Turner-street, Manchester, where he keeps a small
grocer’s shop. He is also engaged in manufacturing Sheet Wadding and
Cotton Waste-Dealer. The Publisher having no knowledge of Robert Blincoe,
but in common with every reader of this Memoir, can have no personal
feelings towards him, other than those of pity for his past sufferings.
But such a Memoir as this was much wanted, to hand down to posterity,
what was the real character of the complaints about the treatment of
children in our cotton mills, about which a legislation has taken place,
and so much has been said. An amended treatment of children has been
made, the apprenticing system having been abandoned by the masters of the
mills; but the employment is in itself bad for children—first, as their
health—and second, as to their manners and acquirements—the employment
being in a bad atmosphere; and the education, from example, being bad;
the time that should be devoted to a better education, being devoted to
that which is bad. The employment of infant children in the cotton-mills
furnishes a bad means to dissolute parents, to live in idleness and all
sorts of vice, upon the produce of infant labour. There is much of this
in Lancashire, which a little care and looking after, on the part of the
masters of cotton-mills, might easily prevent. But what is to be done?
Most of the extensive manufacturers profit by human misery and become
callous toward it; both from habit and interest. If a remedy be desired,
it must be sought by that part of the working people themselves, who
are alive to their progressing degradation. It will never be sought
fairly out, by those who have no interest in seeking it. And so long as
the majority of the working people squanders its already scanty income
in those pest-houses, those intoxicating nurseries, for vice, idleness
and misery, the public drinking-houses, there is no hope for them of an
amended condition.
MEMOIR
OF
Robert Blincoe,
AN ORPHAN BOY.
CHAP. I.
By the time the observant reader has got through the melancholy recital
of the sufferings of Blincoe and his associates in cotton-mill bondage,
he will probably incline to an opinion, that rather than rear destitute
and deserted children, to be thus distorted by excessive toil, and
famished and tortured as those have been, it were incomparably less
cruel to put them at once to death—less cruel that they had never been
born alive; and far more wise that they had never been conceived. In
cases of unauthorized pregnancies, our laws are tender of unconscious
life, perhaps to a faulty extreme; whilst our parochial institutions, as
these pages will prove, after incurring considerable expence to PRESERVE
the lives of those forlorn beings, sweep them off by shoals, under the
sanction of other legal enactments, and consign them to a fate, far worse
than sudden death.