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
There was, however, one diversion, which, in all my enquiries as to
cotton-mill _amusements_, I never found paralleled. Of this Robert
Woodward, if I mistake not, has a claim to the honour of being the
_original inventor_. It was thus executed.—A tin can or cylinder, about
three feet high, to receive the rovings, and about nine or ten inches in
diameter, was placed in the midst of the alley or wheel-house, as the
space is called, over which the frames travel at every draw, and pretty
close to the race. Upon this can or hollow cylinder, Blincoe had to
mount; and there to stand upon one foot, holding a long brush extended
in the opposite hand, until the frame came out, about three times in two
minutes, invariably knocking the can from under him, both fell to the
floor. The villian used to place the can so near the race, that there
was considerable danger of Blincoe falling on it, and, if so, it would
probably have lamed him for life if it had not killed him on the spot;
and he had, with the utmost possible celerity, to throw himself flat
upon the floor, that the frame might pass over him! During this short
interval, the amateurs, i.e. Robert Woodward, Charnock, Merrick, &c.
used to set the can upright again, and it required no small share of
ingenuity, in them, to keep time. The frame being returned, poor Blincoe
had to leap on his feet, and again to mount nimbly on the hollow column
of tin, again to extend his arm, holding the long hair brush, and again
sustain a fall, amidst the shouts and yells of these fiends. Thus would
the villians continue to persecute and torment him, till they were tired,
notwithstanding the _sport_ might have been his death. He ran the risk
of a broken bone, or the dislocation of a limb, every time he was thus
thrown down; and the time the monsters thus wasted, they afterwards made
up by additional labour wrung from their wretched victims!
Another of their diversions consisted in tying Blincoe’s hands behind him
and one of his legs up to his hands. He had then only one leg left free
to hop upon, and no use left of his hands to guard him, if he chanced
to fall, and if Blincoe did not move with activity, the overlooker
would strike a blow with his clenched fist, or cut his head open by
flinging rollers. If he fell, he was liable to have his leg or arm broken
dislocated. Every one conversant with cotton-spinning machinery knows the
danger of such _diversions_, and of their cruelty, every one can judge.
There seemed to exist a spirit of emulation, and infernal spirit, it
might with justice be designated, among the overlookers of Litton Mill,
of inventing and inflicting the most novel and singular punishments. For
the sake of being the better able, and more effectually to torment their
victims, the overlookers allowed their thumb and fore-finger nails to
grow to an extreme length, in order that, when they _pinched their ears_,
they might make their nails meet, _marks to be seen_.