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
Parson_, who was not a vast deal higher than the can, had almost reached
the bottom, and displayed no visible loss or diminution of appetite!
Inexpressibly vexed at being thus outwitted before the governor, he
roared out in a tremendous voice to Milner, “Why damn their bloods,
they’ll eat the whole! Halt, you damned rascals, or, I’ll kill you on
the spot!” In a moment, Blincoe ceased his play, and licked his lips and
spoon, to shew how keen his stomach still was! Milner and Woodward then
took stock, and found, that, out of fourteen pounds, not three remained;
Milner laughed immoderately at Woodward, to think what a luscious mode
of punishment he had found out for treacle stealers!—Woodward being
extremely exasperated, ordered Samuel Brickleton, an overlooker, to
fasten Moss and Blincoe together with handcuffs, of which as well as of
_fetters_, there were plenty at Litton Mill, and then forced them to
carry the can to the apprentice-house between them. When they arrived at
the door, his hand being small, Blincoe contrived to withdraw it from
the handcuff, and ran nimbly off into the room amongst the apprentices,
leaving the treacle can in Moss’s hand. Brickleton, unconscious of
Blincoe’s escape, arrived in the kitchen, where the Governor and his
family resided, looked round, and seeing only one prisoner, cried out,
“Eh! where’s Parson gone.” Moss said, he believed he was gone into the
apprentice-house. Brickleton examined the handcuffs and finding they were
locked, was much puzzled to think how the parson had contrived to get his
hand out. The kind and careful Mrs. Milner, knowing there was money due
to Blincoe, for working his dinner-hour, viz. a farthing a day, proposed
to have it stopped, to pay for the treacle which Woodward had compelled
him to eat, on pain of putting him instantly to death. Such was the law
and equity, which prevailed at Litton Mill! That night, in consequence
of his sumptuous supper, Blincoe was forbidden to enter his bed, and he
laid all night, in the depth of winter, on the hard cold floor.