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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d7b82bc --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,4 @@ +*.txt text eol=lf +*.htm text eol=lf +*.html text eol=lf +*.md text eol=lf diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..fb3baf4 --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #52423 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/52423) diff --git a/old/52423-0.txt b/old/52423-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 7926737..0000000 --- a/old/52423-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,18114 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg EBook of The White Slaves of England, by John C. Cobden - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most -other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of -the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - -Title: The White Slaves of England - -Author: John C. Cobden - -Release Date: June 28, 2016 [EBook #52423] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE WHITE SLAVES OF ENGLAND *** - - - - -Produced by Brian Coe, Christian Boissonnas and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This -file was produced from images generously made available -by The Internet Archive/Canadian Libraries) - - - - - - - - - -[Illustration: THE WHITE SLAVES OF ENGLAND.] - - - - - FIFTH THOUSAND. - - - THE WHITE SLAVES - - OF - - ENGLAND. - - - COMPILED FROM OFFICIAL DOCUMENTS. - - WITH TWELVE SPIRITED ILLUSTRATIONS. - - - BY JOHN C. COBDEN. - - - AUBURN AND BUFFALO: - MILLER ORTON & MULLIGAN. - 1854. - - - - - Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year one thousand eight - hundred and fifty-three, by - - DERBY AND MILLER, - - In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the Northern District - of New-York. - - - - -PREFACE. - - -The following pages exhibit a system of wrong and outrage equally -abhorrent to justice, civilization and humanity. The frightful abuses -which are here set forth, are, from their enormity, difficult of -belief; yet they are supported by testimony the most impartial, clear -and irrefutable. These abuses are time-honored, and have the sanction -of a nation which prides itself upon the _freedom of its Constitution_; -and which holds up its government to the nations of the earth as a -model of _regulated liberty_. Vain, audacious, _false_ assumption! Let -the refutation be found in the details which this volume furnishes, -of the want, misery and starvation—the slavish toil—the menial -degradation of nineteen-twentieths of her people. Let her _miners_, her -_operatives_, _the tenants of her workhouses_, her _naval service_, and -the millions upon millions in the _Emerald Isle_ and in farther India -attest its fallacy. - -These are the legitimate results of the laws and institutions of Great -Britain; and they reach and affect, in a greater or less degree, all -her dependencies. Her _church and state_, and her _laws of entail -and primogeniture_, are the principal sources of the evils under -which her people groan; and until these are changed there is no just -ground of hope for an improvement in their condition. The tendency of -things is, indeed, to make matters still worse. The poor are every -year becoming poorer, and more dependent upon those who feast upon -their sufferings; while the wealth and power of the realm are annually -concentrating in fewer hands, and becoming more and more instruments -of oppression. The picture is already sufficiently revolting. "Nine -hundred and ninety-nine children of the same common Father, suffer from -destitution, that the thousandth may revel in superfluities. A thousand -cottages shrink into meanness and want, to swell the dimensions of a -single palace. The tables of a thousand families of the industrious -poor waste away into drought and barrenness, that one board may be -laden with surfeits." - -From these monstrous evils there seems to be little chance of escape, -except by flight; and happy is it for the victims of oppression, that -an asylum is open to them, in which they can fully enjoy the rights -and privileges, from which, for ages, they have been debarred. Let -them come. The feudal chains which so long have bound them can here be -shaken off. Here they can freely indulge the pure impulses of the mind -and the soul, untrammeled by political or religious tyranny. Here they -can enjoy the beneficent influences of humane institutions and laws, -and find a vast and ample field in which to develop and properly employ -all their faculties. - -The United States appear before the eyes of the down-trodden whites of -Europe as a land of promise. Thousands of ignorant, degraded wretches, -who have fled from their homes to escape exhausting systems of -slavery, annually land upon our shores, and in their hearts thank God -that he has created such a refuge. This is the answer—the overwhelming -answer—to the decriers of our country and its institutions. These -emigrants are more keenly alive to the superiority of our institutions -than most persons who have been bred under them, and to their care we -might confidently intrust our defence. - -We design to prove in this work that the oligarchy which owns Great -Britain at the present day is the best friend of human slavery, and -that its system is most barbarous and destructive. Those feudal -institutions which reduced to slavery the strong-minded race of -whites, are perpetuated in Great Britain, to the detriment of freedom -wherever the British sway extends. Institutions which nearly every -other civilized country has abolished, and which are at least a century -behind the age, still curse the British islands and their dependencies. -This system of slavery, with all its destructive effects, will be found -fully illustrated in this volume. - -Our plan has been to quote English authorities wherever possible. Out -of their own mouths shall they be condemned. We have been much indebted -to the publications of distinguished democrats of England, who have -keenly felt the evils under which their country groans, and striven, -with a hearty will, to remove them. They have the sympathies of -civilized mankind with their cause. May their efforts soon be crowned -with success, for the British masses and oppressed nations far away in -the East will shout loud and long when the aristocracy is brought to -the dust! - - - - -" • • • • • AS WE HAVE BEEN GREAT IN CRIME, LET US BE EARLY IN -REPENTANCE. THERE WILL BE A DAY OF RETRIBUTION, WHEREIN WE SHALL HAVE -TO GIVE ACCOUNT OF ALL THE TALENTS, FACULTIES, AND OPPORTUNITIES WHICH -HAVE BEEN INTRUSTED TO US. LET IT NOT THEN APPEAR THAT OUR SUPERIOR -POWER HAS BEEN EMPLOYED TO OPPRESS OUR FELLOW CREATURES, AND OUR -SUPERIOR LIGHT TO DARKEN THE CREATION OF OUR GOD."—_Wilberforce._ - - - - -CONTENTS. - - - CHAPTER I. - General Slavery proceeding from the existence of the British - Aristocracy _Page_ 13 - - - CHAPTER II. - Slavery in the British Mines 28 - - - CHAPTER III. - Slavery in the British Factories 104 - - - CHAPTER IV. - Slavery in the British Workshops 168 - - - CHAPTER V. - The Workhouse System of Britain 206 - - - CHAPTER VI. - Impressment, or Kidnapping White Men for Slaves in the - Naval Service 257 - - - CHAPTER VII. - Irish Slavery 284 - - - CHAPTER VIII. - The Menial Slaves of Great Britain 370 - - - CHAPTER IX. - - Mental and Moral Condition of the White Slaves in Great Britain 379 - - - CHAPTER X. - Coolie Slavery in the British Colonies 433 - - - CHAPTER XI. - Slavery in British India 441 - - - CHAPTER XII. - The Crime and the Duty of the English Government 489 - - - - -THE - -WHITE SLAVES OF ENGLAND. - - - - -CHAPTER I. - -GENERAL SLAVERY PROCEEDING FROM THE EXISTENCE OF THE BRITISH -ARISTOCRACY. - - -What is slavery? A system under which the time and toil of one person -are compulsorily the property of another. The power of life and death, -and the privilege of using the lash in the master, are not essential, -but casual attendants of slavery, which comprehends all involuntary -servitude without adequate recompense or the means of escape. He -who can obtain no property in the soil, and is not represented in -legislation, is a slave; for he is completely at the mercy of the -lord of the soil and the holder of the reins of government. Sometimes -slavery is founded upon the inferiority of one race to another; and -then it appears in its most agreeable garb, for the system may be -necessary to tame and civilize a race of savages. But the subjection -of the majority of a nation to an involuntary, hopeless, exhausting, -and demoralizing servitude, for the benefit of an idle and luxurious -few of the same nation, is slavery in its most appalling form. Such a -system of slavery, we assert, exists in Great Britain. - -In the United Kingdom, the land is divided into immense estates, -constantly retained in a few hands; and the tendency of the existing -laws of entail and primogeniture is to reduce even the number of these -proprietors. According to McCulloch, there are 77,007,048 acres of -land in the United Kingdom, including the small islands adjacent. Of -this quantity, 28,227,435 acres are uncultivated; while, according to -Mr. Porter, another English writer, about 11,300,000 acres, now lying -waste, are fit for cultivation. The number of proprietors of all this -land is about 50,000. Perhaps, this is a rather high estimate for the -present period. Now the people of the United Kingdom number at least -28,000,000. What a tremendous majority, then, own not a foot of soil! -But this is not the worst. Such is the state of the laws, that the -majority never can acquire an interest in the land. Said the London -_Times_, in 1844, "_Once a peasant in England, and the man must remain -a peasant for ever_;" and, says Mr. Kay, of Trinity College, Cambridge— - - "Unless the English peasant will consent to tear himself from his - relations, friends, and early associations, and either transplant - himself into a town or into a distant colony, he has no chance of - improving his condition in the world." - -Admit this—admit that the peasant must remain through life at the -mercy of his lord, and of legislation in which his interests are not -represented—and tell us if he is a freeman? - -To begin with England, to show the progress and effects of the land -monopoly:—The Rev. Henry Worsley states that in the year 1770, there -were in England 250,000 freehold estates, in the hands of 250,000 -different families; and that, in 1815, the whole of the lands of -England were concentrated in the hands of only 32,000 proprietors! -So that, as the population increases, the number of proprietors -diminishes. A distinguished lawyer, who was engaged in the management -of estates in Westmoreland and Cumberland counties in 1849, says— - - "The greater proprietors in this part of the country are - buying up all the land, and including it in their settlements. - Whenever one of the small estates is put up for sale, the great - proprietors outbid the peasants and purchase it at all costs. The - consequence is, that for some time past, the number of the small - estates has been rapidly diminishing in all parts of the country. - In a short time none of them will remain, but all be merged in - the great estates. * * * The consequence is, that the peasant's - position, instead of being what it once was—one of hope—is - gradually becoming one of despair. Unless a peasant emigrates, - there is now no chance for him. It is impossible for him to rise - above the peasant class." - -The direct results of this system are obvious. Unable to buy land, the -tillers of the soil live merely by the sufferance of the proprietors. -If one of the great landholders takes the notion that grazing will -be more profitable than farming, he may sweep away the homes of his -labourers, turning the poor wretches upon the country as wandering -paupers, or driving them into the cities to overstock the workshops and -reduce the wages of the poor workman. And what is the condition of the -peasants who are allowed to remain and labour upon the vast estates? -Let Englishmen speak for Englishmen. - -Devon, Somerset, Dorset, and Wiltshire are generally regarded -as presenting the agricultural labourer in his most deplorable -circumstances, while Lincolnshire exhibits the other extreme. We -have good authority for the condition of the peasantry in all these -counties. Mr. John Fox, medical officer of the Cerne Union, in -Dorsetshire, says— - - "Most of the cottages are of the worst description; some mere - mud-hovels, and situated in low and damp places, with cesspools - or accumulations of filth close to the doors. The mud floors of - many are much below the level of the road, and, in wet seasons, - are little better than so much clay. In many of the cottages, the - beds stood on the ground floor, which was damp three parts of - the year; scarcely one had a fireplace in the bedroom; and one - had a single small pane of glass stuck in the mud wall as its - only window. Persons living in such cottages are generally very - poor, very dirty, and usually in rags, living almost wholly on - bread and potatoes, scarcely ever tasting any animal food, and, - consequently, highly susceptible of disease, and very unable to - contend with it." - -Very often, according to other equally good authority, there is not -more than one room for the whole family, and the demoralization of -that family is the natural consequence. The _Morning Chronicle_ of -November, 1849, said of the cottages at Southleigh, in Devon— - - "One house, which our correspondent visited, was almost a ruin. - It had continued in that state for ten years. The floor was of - mud, dipping near the fireplace into a deep hollow, which was - constantly filled with water. There were five in the family—a - young man of twenty-one, a girl of eighteen, and another girl of - about thirteen, with the father and mother, all sleeping together - up-stairs. And what a sleeping-room! 'In places it seemed falling - in. To ventilation it was an utter stranger. The crazy floor - shook and creaked under me as I paced it.' Yet the rent was 1_s._ - a week—the same sum for which apartments that may be called - luxurious in comparison may be had in the model lodging-houses. - And here sat a girl weaving that beautiful Honiton lace which our - peeresses wear on court-days. Cottage after cottage at Southleigh - presented the same characteristics. Clay floors, low ceilings - letting in the rain, no ventilation; two rooms, one above and - one below; gutters running through the lower room to let off the - water; unglazed window-frames, now boarded up, and now uncovered - to the elements, the boarding going for firewood; the inmates - disabled by rheumatism, ague, and typhus; broad, stagnant, open - ditches close to the doors; heaps of abominations piled round - the dwellings; such are the main features of Southleigh; and it - is in these worse than pig-styes that one of the most beautiful - fabrics that luxury demands or art supplies is fashioned. The - parish houses are still worse. 'One of these, on the borders of - Devonshire and Cornwall, and not far from Launceston, consisted - of two houses, containing between them four rooms. In each room - lived a family night and day, the space being about twelve feet - square. In one were a man and his wife and eight children; the - father, mother, and two children lay in one bed, the remaining - six were huddled 'head and foot' (three at the top and three at - the foot) in the other bed. The eldest girl was between fifteen - and sixteen, the eldest boy between fourteen and fifteen.' Is it - not horrible to think of men and women being brought up in this - foul and brutish manner in civilized and Christian England! The - lowest of savages are not worse cared for than these children of - a luxurious and refined country." - -Yet other authorities describe cases much worse than this which so -stirs the heart of the editor of the _Morning Chronicle_. The frightful -immorality consequent upon such a mode of living will be illustrated -fully in another portion of this work. - -In Lincolnshire, the cottages of the peasantry are in a better -condition than in any other part of England; but in consequence of the -lowness of wages and the comparative enormity of rents, the tillers of -the soil are in not much better circumstances than their rural brethren -in other counties. Upon an average, a hard-working peasant can earn -five shillings a week; two shillings of which go for rent. If he can -barely live when employed, what is to become of him when thrown out of -employment? Thus the English peasant is driven to the most constant and -yet hopeless labour, with whips more terrible than those used by the -master of the negro slave. - -In Wales, the condition of the peasant, thanks to the general system of -lord and serf, is neither milder nor more hopeful than in England. Mr. -Symonds, a commissioner who was sent by government to examine the state -of education in some of the Welsh counties, says of the peasantry of -Brecknockshire, Cardiganshire, and Radnorshire— - - "The people of my district are almost universally poor. In some - parts of it, wages are probably lower than in any part of Great - Britain. The evidence of the witnesses, fully confirmed by other - statements, exhibits much poverty, but little amended in other - parts of the counties on which I report. _The farmers themselves - are very much impoverished, and live no better than English - cottagers in prosperous agricultural counties._ - - "The cottages in which the people dwell are miserable in the - extreme in nearly every part of the country in Cardiganshire, and - every part of Brecknockshire and Radnorshire, except the east. - I have myself visited many of the dwellings of the poor, and my - assistants have done so likewise. _I believe the Welsh cottages - to be very little, if at all, superior to the Irish huts in the - country districts._ - - "Brick chimneys are very unusual in these cottages; those which - exist are usually in the shape of large cones, the top being of - basket-work. _In very few cottages is there more than one room_, - which serves the purposes of living and sleeping. A large dresser - and shelves usually form the partition between the two; and where - there are separate beds for the family, a curtain or low board is - (if it exists) the only division with no regular partition. And - this state of things very generally prevails, even where there - is some little attention paid to cleanliness; but the cottages - and beds are frequently filthy. The people are always very dirty. - In all the counties, the cottages are generally destitute of - necessary outbuildings, including even those belonging to the - farmers; and both in Cardiganshire and Radnorshire, except near - the border of England, the pigs and poultry have free run of the - joint dwelling and sleeping rooms." - -In Scotland, the estates of the nobility are even larger than in -England. Small farms are difficult to find. McCulloch states that there -are not more than 8000 proprietors of land in the whole of Scotland; -and, as in England, this number is decreasing. In some districts, -the cottages of the peasantry are as wretched as any in England or -Wales. For some years past, the great landholders, such as the Duke -of Buccleuch and the Duchess of Sutherland, have been illustrating -the glorious beneficence of British institutions by removing the -poor peasantry from the homes of their fathers, for the purpose of -turning the vacated districts into deer-parks, sheep-walks, and large -farms. Many a Highland family has vented a curse upon the head of the -remorseless Duchess of Sutherland. Most slaveholders in other countries -feed, shelter, and protect their slaves, in compensation for work; -but the Duchess and her barbarous class take work, shelter, food, and -protection from their serfs all at one fell swoop, turning them upon -the world to beg or starve. Scotland has reason—strong reason—to -bewail the existence of the British aristocracy. - -Next let us invoke the testimony of Ireland—the beautiful and the -wretched—Ireland, whose people have been the object of pity to the -nations for centuries—whose miseries have been the burden of song and -the theme of eloquence till they have penetrated all hearts save those -of the oppressors—whose very life-blood has been trampled out by the -aristocracy. Let us hear her testimony in regard to the British slave -system. - -Ireland is splendidly situated, in a commercial point of view, -commanding the direct route between Northern Europe and America, -with some of the finest harbours in the world. Its soil is rich -and fruitful. Its rivers are large, numerous, and well adapted -for internal commerce. The people are active, physically and -intellectually, and, everywhere beyond Ireland, are distinguished -for their energy, perseverance, and success. Yet, in consequence of -its organized oppression, called government, Ireland is the home of -miseries which have scarcely a parallel upon the face of the earth. -The great landlords spend most of their time in England or upon the -continent, and leave their lands to the management of agents, who -have sub-agents for parts of the estates, and these latter often have -still inferior agents. Many of the great landlords care nothing for -their estates beyond the receipt of the rents, and leave their agents -to enrich themselves at the expense of the tenantry. Everywhere in -Ireland, a traveller, as he passes along the roads, will see on the -roadsides and in the fields, places which look like mounds of earth and -sods, with a higher heap of sods upon the top, out of which smoke is -curling upward; and with two holes in the sides of the heap next the -road, one of which is used as the door, and the other as the window of -the hovel. These are the homes of the peasantry! Entering a hovel, you -will find it to contain but one room, formed by the four mud walls; -and in these places, upon the mud floor, the families of the peasant -live. Men, women, boys, and girls live and sleep together, and herd -with the wallowing pig. Gaunt, ragged figures crawl out of these hovels -and plant the ground around them with potatoes, which constitute the -only food of the inmates throughout the year, or swarm the roads and -thoroughfares as wretched beggars. The deplorable condition of these -peasants was graphically described by no less a person than Sir Robert -Peel, in his great speech on Ireland, in 1849; and the evidence quoted -by him was unimpeachable. But not only are the majority of the Irish -condemned to exist in such hovels as we have sketched above—their -tenure of these disgusting cabins is insecure. If they do not pay the -rent for them at the proper time, they are liable to be turned adrift -even in the middle of the night. No notice is necessary. The tenants -are subject to the tender mercies of a bailiff, without any remedy -or appeal, except to the court of Heaven. Kay states that in 1849, -more than 50,000 families were evicted and turned as beggars upon the -country. An Englishman who travelled through Ireland in the fall of -1849, says— - - "In passing through some half dozen counties, Cork, (especially - in the western portions of it,) Limerick, Clare, Galway, and - Mayo, you see thousands of ruined cottages and dwellings of the - labourers, the peasants, and the small holders of Ireland. You - see from the roadside twenty houses at once with not a roof upon - them. I came to a village not far from Castlebar, where the - system of eviction had been carried out only a few days before. - Five women came about us as the car stopped, and on making - inquiry, they told us their sorrowful story. They were not badly - clad; they were cleanly in appearance; they were intelligent; - they used no violent language, but in the most moderate terms - told us that on the Monday week previously those five houses - had been levelled. They told us how many children there were - in their families: I recollect one had eight, another had six; - that the husbands of three of them were in this country for the - harvest; that they had written to their husbands to tell them - of the desolation of their homes. And, I asked them, 'What did - the husbands say in reply?' They said 'they had not been able - to eat any breakfast!' It is but a simple observation, but it - marks the sickness and the sorrow which came over the hearts of - those men, who here were toiling for their three or four pounds, - denying themselves almost rest at night that they might make a - good reaping at the harvest, and go back that they might enjoy it - in the home which they had left. All this is but a faint outline - of what has taken place in that unhappy country. Thousands of - individuals have died within the last two or three years in - consequence of the evictions which have taken place." - -The great loss of life in the famine of 1847 showed that the peasantry -had a miserable dependence upon the chances of a good potato crop for -the means of keeping life in their bodies. Crowds of poor wretches, -after wandering about for a time like the ghosts of human beings, -starved to death by the roadside, victims of the murderous policy -of the landed aristocracy. Since that period of horror, the great -proprietors, envious of the lurid fame achieved by the Duchess of -Sutherland in Scotland, have been evicting their tenants on the most -extensive scale, and establishing large farms and pasturages, which -they deem more profitable than former arrangements. In despair at -home, the wretched Irish are casting their eyes to distant lands for a -refuge from slavery and starvation. But hundreds of thousands groan -in their hereditary serfdom, without the means of reaching other and -happier countries. The dearest ties of family are sundered by the force -of want. The necessity of seeking a subsistence drives the father to -a distant land, while the child is compelled to remain in Ireland a -pauper. The husband can pay his own passage to America, perchance, but -the wife must stay in the land of misery. Ask Ireland if a slave can -breathe in Great Britain! The long lamentation of ages, uniting with -the heart-broken utterances of her present wretched bondsmen, might -touch even the British aristocracy in its reply. - -So much for the general condition of the peasantry in the United -Kingdom. The miserable consequences of the system of lord and serf do -not end here. No! There are London, Manchester, Birmingham, Glasgow, -Dublin, and many other cities and towns, with their crowds of slaves -either in the factories and workshops, or in the streets as paupers and -criminals. There are said to be upward of four millions of paupers in -the United Kingdom! Can such an amount of wretchedness be found in any -country upon the face of the globe? To what causes are we to attribute -this amount of pauperism, save to the monopolies and oppressions of the -aristocracy? Think of there being in the United Kingdom over eleven -million acres of good land uncultivated, and four millions of paupers! -According to Kay, more than two millions of people were kept from -starving in England and Wales, in 1848, by relief doled out to them -from public and private sources. So scant are the earnings of those -who labour day and night in the cities and towns, that they may become -paupers if thrown out of work for a single week. Many from town and -country are driven by the fear of starvation to labour in the mines, -the horrors of which species of slavery shall be duly illustrated -farther on in this work. - -Truly did Southey write— - - "To talk of English happiness, is like talking of Spartan - freedom; the _helots_ are overlooked. In no country can such - riches be acquired by commerce, but it is the one who grows - rich by the labour of the hundred. The hundred human beings - like himself, as wonderfully fashioned by nature, gifted with - the like capacities, and equally made for immortality, are - sacrificed _body and soul_. Horrible as it must needs appear, - the assertion is true to the very letter. They are deprived in - childhood of all instruction and all enjoyment—of the sports - in which childhood instinctively indulges—of fresh air by day - and of natural sleep by night. Their health, physical and moral, - is alike destroyed; they die of diseases induced by unremitting - task-work, by confinement in the impure atmosphere of crowded - rooms, by the particles of metallic or vegetable dust which - they are continually inhaling; or they live to grow up without - decency, without comfort, and without hope—without morals, - without religion, and without shame; and bring forth _slaves_ - like themselves to tread in the same path of misery." - -Again, the same distinguished Englishman says, in number twenty-six of -Espriella's Letters— - - "The English boast of their liberty, but there is _no liberty in - England for the poor_. They are no longer sold with the soil, - it is true; but they cannot quit the soil if there be any - probability or suspicion that age or infirmity may disable them. - If, in such a case, they endeavour to remove to some situation - where they hope more easily to maintain themselves, where work is - more plentiful or provisions cheaper, the overseers are alarmed, - the intruder is apprehended, as if he were a criminal, and sent - back to his own parish. Wherever a pauper dies, that parish must - bear the cost of his funeral. Instances, therefore, have not - been wanting of wretches, in the last stage of disease, having - been hurried away in an open cart, upon straw, and dying upon - the road. Nay, even women, in the very pains of labour, have - been driven out, and have perished by the wayside, because the - birthplace of the child would be its parish!" - -The sufferings of the rural labourers—the peasantry of Great Britain -and Ireland—are to be attributed to the fact that they have no -property in the land, and cannot acquire any. The law of primogeniture, -on which the existence of the British aristocracy depends, has, as we -have already shown, placed the land and those who labour on it—the -soil and the serfs—at the disposal of a few landed proprietors. The -labourers are not attached to the soil, and bought and sold with it, -as in Russia. The English aristocrat is too cunning to adopt such a -regulation, because it would involve the necessity of supporting his -slaves. They are _called_ freemen, in order to enable their masters -to detach them from the soil, and drive them forth to starve, when it -suits their convenience, without incurring any legal penalty for their -cruelty, such as the slaveholders of other countries would suffer. The -Russian, the Spanish, the North American slaveholder must support his -slaves in sickness and helpless old age, or suffer the penalties of the -law for his neglect. The British slaveholder alone may drive his slaves -forth to starve in the highway by hundreds and thousands; and no law -of Great Britain affords the means of punishing him for his murderous -cruelty. His Irish slaves may be saved from starvation by American -bounty, but he cannot be punished until he shall meet his Judge at the -day of final account. - - - - -CHAPTER II. - -SLAVERY IN THE BRITISH MINES. - - -In proceeding to speak more particularly of the various forms of -British slavery, we will begin with labour in the mines—the horrors -of which became known to the world through reports made to Parliament -in the summer of 1840. Pressed by the fear of general execration, -Parliament appointed a commission of inquiry, which, after a thorough -examination of all the mines in the United Kingdom, made a voluminous -report. So shocking were the accounts of labour in the mines given -by this commission, that the delicate nerves of several perfumed -lords were grievously pained, and they denounced the commissioners as -being guilty of exaggeration. Nevertheless, the evidence adduced by -the officers was unimpeachable, and their statements were generally -received as plain truth. - -[Illustration: COAL GETTER AT WORK.] - -The mining industry of the kingdom is divided into two distinct -branches—that of the coal and iron mines, and that of the mines of -tin, copper, lead, and zinc. The "coal measures," as the geological -formations comprising the strata of coal are designated, are variously -dispersed in the middle, northern, and western portions of South -Britain, and in a broad belt of country which traverses the centre -of Scotland, from the shores of Ayrshire to those of the Firth of -Forth. There are, also, some coal-tracts in Ireland, but they are -of comparatively small importance. In all these districts, the coal -is found in beds, interstratified for the most part with various -qualities of gritstone and shale, in which, in some of the districts, -occur layers of ironstone, generally thin, but sometimes forming large -masses, as in the Forest of Dean. When the surface of the coal country -is mountainous and intersected by deep ravines, as in South Wales, -the mineral deposites are approached by holes driven into the sides -of the hills; but the common access to them is by vertical shafts, or -well-holes, from the bottoms of which horizontal roadways are extended -in long and confined passages through the coal strata, to bring all -that is hewn to the "pit's eye," or bottom of the shaft, for winding -up. It is requisite to have more than one shaft in the same workings; -but where the coal lies so deep that the sinking of a distinct shaft -requires an enormous outlay of capital, only one large shaft is sunk; -and this is divided by wooden partitions, or brattices, into several -distinct channels. There must always be one shaft or channel, called -the "downcast pit," for the air to descend; and another, called the -"upcast pit," for the return draught to ascend. The apparatus for -lowering and drawing up is generally in the upcast shaft. This is -either a steam-engine, a horse-gin, or a hand-crank. The thickness -of the seams that are wrought varies from the eighteen-inch seams of -the Lancashire and Yorkshire hills, to the ten-yard coal of South -Staffordshire. But two, three, and four feet are the more common -thicknesses of the beds that are wrought. When there is a good roof, -or hard rock immediately over the coal, with a tolerably solid floor -beneath it, thin coal-seams can be worked with advantage, because the -outlay of capital for propping is then very limited; but the very -hardness of the contiguous strata would require an outlay almost as -great to make the roadways of a proper height for human beings of any -age to work in. - -By the evidence collected under the commission, it is proved that there -are coal-mines at present at work in which some passages are so small, -that even the youngest children cannot move along them without crawling -on their hands and feet, in which constrained position they drag the -loaded carriages after them; and yet, as it is impossible by any outlay -compatible with a profitable return, to render such coal-mines fit for -human beings to work in, they never will be placed in such a condition, -and, consequently, they never can be worked without this child slavery! -When the roads are six feet high and upward, there is not only ample -space for carrying on the general operations of the mine, but the coals -can be drawn direct from the workings to the foot of the shaft by -the largest horses; and when the main roads are four feet and a half -high, the coals may be conveyed to the foot of the shaft by ponies or -asses. But when the main ways are under four feet, the coals can only -be conveyed by children. Yet, in many mines, the main gates are only -from twenty-four to thirty inches high. In this case, even the youngest -children must work in a bent position of the body. When the inclination -of the strata causes all the workings out of the main ways to be on -inclined plains, the young labourers are not only almost worked to -death, but exposed to severe accidents in descending the plains with -their loads, out of one level into another. In many of the mines, there -is such a want of drainage and ventilation, that fatal diseases are -contracted by the miners. - -According to the report of the Parliamentary commission, about -one-third of the persons employed in the coal-mines were under eighteen -years of age, and much more than one-third of this number were under -thirteen years of age. When the proprietor employs the whole of the -hands, not only will his general overseer be a respectable person, -but his underlookers will be taken from the more honest, intelligent, -and industrious of the labouring colliers. Elsewhere, the rulers in -pits are such as the rudest class is likely to produce. The great -body of the children and young persons are, however, of the families -of the adult work-people employed in the pits, or belong to the poor -population of the neighbourhood. But, in some districts, there are -numerous defenceless creatures who pass the whole of their youth in -the most abject slavery, into which they are thrown chiefly by parish -authorities, under the name of apprenticeship. Said the Parliamentary -commissioners in their report— - - "There is one mode of engaging the labour of children and young - persons in coal-mines, peculiar to a few districts, which - deserves particular notice, viz. that by apprenticeship. The - district in which the practice of employing apprentices is - most in use, is South Staffordshire; it was formerly common - in Shropshire, but is now discontinued; it is still common in - Yorkshire, Lancashire, and the West of Scotland; in all the - other districts, it appears to be unknown. In Staffordshire, - the sub-commissioner states that the number of children and - young persons working in the mines as apprentices is exceedingly - numerous; that these apprentices are paupers or orphans, and - are wholly in the power of the butties;[1] that such is the - demand for this class of children by the butties, that there - are scarcely any boys in the union workhouses of Walsall, - Wolverhampton, Dudley, and Stourbridge; that these boys are sent - on trial to the butties between the ages of eight and nine, and - at nine are bound as apprentices for twelve years, that is, to - the age of twenty-one years complete; that, notwithstanding - this long apprenticeship, there is nothing whatever in the - coal-mines to learn beyond a little dexterity, readily acquired - by short practice; and that even in the mines of Cornwall, where - much skill and judgment is required, there are no apprentices, - while, in the coal-mines of South Staffordshire, the orphan whom - necessity has driven into a workhouse, is made to labour in the - mines until the age of twenty-one, solely for the benefit of - another." - -Thomas Moorhouse, a collier boy, who was brought to the notice of the -Parliamentary commissioners, said— - - "I don't know how old I am; father is dead; I am a chance child; - mother is dead also; I don't know how long she has been dead; - 'tis better na three years; I began to hurry[2] when I was nine - years old for William Greenwood; I was apprenticed to him till - I should be twenty-one; my mother apprenticed me; I lived with - Greenwood; I don't know how long it was, but it was a goodish - while; he was bound to find me in victuals and drink and clothes; - I never had enough; he gave me some old clothes to wear, which - he bought at the rag-shop; the overseers gave him a sovereign to - buy clothes with, but he never laid it out; the overseers bound - me out with mother's consent from the township of Southowram; I - ran away from him because he lost my indentures, for he served me - very bad; he stuck a pick into me twice." - -Here the boy was made to strip, and the commissioner, Mr. Symonds, -found a large cicatrix likely to have been occasioned by such an -instrument, which must have passed through the glutei muscles, and have -stopped only short of the hip-joint. There were twenty other wounds, -occasioned by hurrying in low workings, upon and around the spinous -processes of the vertebræ, from the sacrum upward. The boy continued— - - "He used to hit me with the belt, and mawl or sledge, and fling - coals at me. He served me so bad that I left him, and went about - to see if I could get a job. I used to sleep in the cabins upon - the pit's bank, and in the old pits that had done working. I - laid upon the shale all night. I used to get what I could to - eat. I ate for a long time the candles that I found in the pits - that the colliers left over night. I had nothing else to eat. I - looked about for work, and begged of the people a bit. I got to - Bradford after a while, and had a job there for a month while a - collier's lad was poorly. When he came back, I was obliged to - leave." - -Another case was related by Mr. Kennedy, one of the commissioners. -A boy, named Edward Kershaw, had been apprenticed by the overseers -of Castleton to a collier of the name of Robert Brierly, residing at -Balsgate, who worked in a pit in the vicinity of Rooley Moor. The boy -was examined, and from twenty-four to twenty-six wounds were found upon -his body. His posteriors and loins were beaten to a jelly; his head, -which was almost cleared of hair on the scalp, had the marks of many -old wounds upon it which had healed up. One of the bones in one arm -was broken below the elbow, and, from appearances, seemed to have been -so for some time. The boy, on being brought before the magistrates, -was unable either to sit or stand, and was placed on the floor of the -office, laid on his side on a small cradle-bed. It appears from the -evidence, that the boy's arm had been broken by a blow with an iron -rail, and the fracture had never been set, and that he had been kept at -work for several weeks with his arm in the condition above described. -It further appeared in evidence, and was admitted by Brierly, that he -had been in the habit of beating the boy with a flat piece of wood, in -which a nail was driven and projected about half an inch. The blows had -been inflicted with such violence that they penetrated the skin, and -caused the wounds above mentioned. The body of the boy presented all -the marks of emaciation. This brutal master had kept the boy at work as -a wagoner until he was no longer of any use, and then sent him home in -a cart to his mother, who was a poor widow, residing in Church lane, -Rochdale. And yet it is said that a slave cannot breathe the air of -England! - -The want of instruction, and the seclusion from the rest of the world, -which is common to the colliers, give them a sad pre-eminence over -every other class of labourers, in ignorance and callousness; and -when they are made masters, what can be expected? In all cases of -apprenticeship, the children are bound till they attain the age of -twenty-one years. If the master dies before the apprentice attains the -age of twenty-one years, the apprentice is equally bound as the servant -of his deceased master's heirs, executors, administrators, and assigns. -In fact, the apprentice is part of the deceased master's goods and -chattels! - -But, to speak more particularly of the labour of the children:—The -employment of the adult collier is almost exclusively in the "getting" -of the coal from its natural resting-place, of which there are various -methods, according to the nature of the seams and the habits of the -several districts. That of the children and young persons consists -principally either in tending the air-doors where the coal-carriages -must pass through openings, the immediately subsequent stoppage of -which is necessary to preserve the ventilation in its proper channels, -or in the conveyance of the coal from the bays or recesses in which -it is hewn, along the subterranean roadways, to the bottom of the -pit-shaft; a distance varying from absolute contiguity even to miles, -in the great coal-fields of the North of England, where the depth -requires that the same expensive shaft shall serve for the excavation -of a large tract of coal. The earliest employment of children in the -pits is generally to open and shut the doors, upon the proper custody -of which the ventilation and safety of the whole mine depends. These -little workmen are called "trappers." Of the manner in which they pass -their earlier days, Dr. Mitchell, a distinguished Englishman, has given -a very interesting sketch, which deserves to be quoted here entire:— - - "The little trapper, of eight years of age, lies quiet in bed. - It is now between two and three in the morning, and his mother - shakes him and desires him to rise, and tells him that his father - has an hour ago gone off to the pit. He turns on his side, rubs - his eyes, and gets up, and comes to the blazing fire and puts on - his clothes. His coffee, such as it is, stands by the side of - the fire, and bread is laid down for him. The fortnight is now - well advanced, the money all spent, and butter, bacon, and other - luxurious accompaniments of bread, are not to be had at breakfast - till next pay-day supply the means. He then fills his tin bottle - with coffee and takes a lump of bread, sets out for the pit, into - which he goes down in the cage, and walking along the horse-way - for upward of a mile, he reaches the barrow-way, over which the - young men and boys push the trams with the tubs on rails to the - flats, where the barrow-way and horse-way meet, and where the - tubs are transferred to rolleys or carriages drawn by horses. - - [Illustration: THRUSTERS AND TRAPPER.] - - "He knows his place of work. It is inside one of the doors called - trap-doors, which is in the barrow-way, for the purpose of - forcing the stream of air which passes in its long, many-miled - course from the down-shaft to the up-shaft of the pit; but - which door must be opened whenever men or boys, with or without - carriages, may wish to pass through. He seats himself in a little - hole, about the size of a common fireplace, and with the string - in his hand; and all his work is to pull that string when he has - to open the door, and when man or boy has passed through, then to - allow the door to shut of itself. Here it is his duty to sit, and - be attentive, and pull his string promptly as any one approaches. - He may not stir above a dozen steps with safety from his charge, - lest he should be found neglecting his duty, and suffer for the - same. - - "He sits solitary by himself, and has no one to talk to him; for - in the pit the whole of the people, men and boys, are as busy - as if they were in a sea-fight. He, however, sees now and then - the putters urging forward their trams through his gate, and - derives some consolation from the glimmer of the little candle - of about 40 to the pound, which is fixed on their trams. For he - himself has no light. His hours, except at such times, are passed - in total darkness. For the first week of his service in the pit - his father had allowed him candles to light one after another, - but the expense of three halfpence a day was so extravagant - expenditure out of tenpence, the boy's daily wages, that his - father, of course, withdrew the allowance the second week, all - except one or two candles in the morning, and the week after the - allowance was altogether taken away; and now, except a neighbour - kinder than his father now and then drop him a candle as he - passes, the boy has no light of his own. - - "Thus hour after hour passes away; but what are hours to him, - seated in darkness, in the bowels of the earth? He knows nothing - of the ascending or descending sun. Hunger, however, though - silent and unseen, acts upon him, and he betakes to his bottle - of coffee and slice of bread; and, if desirous, he may have the - luxury of softening it in a portion of water in the pit, which is - brought down for man and beast. - - "In this state of sepulchral existence, an insidious enemy gains - upon him. His eyes are shut, and his ears fail to announce the - approach of a tram. A deputy overman comes along, and a smart cut - of his yardwand at once punishes the culprit and recalls him to - his duty; and happy was it for him that he fell into the hands of - the deputy overman, rather than one of the putters; for his fist - would have inflicted a severer pain. The deputy overman moreover - consoles him by telling him that it was for his good that he - punished him; and reminds him of boys, well known to both, who, - when asleep, had fallen down, and some had been severely wounded, - and others killed. The little trapper believes that he is to - blame, and makes no complaint, for he dreads being discharged; - and he knows that his discharge would be attended with the loss - of wages, and bring upon him the indignation of his father, more - terrible to endure than the momentary vengeance of the deputy and - the putters all taken together. - - "Such is the day-work of the little trapper in the barrow-way. - - "At last, the joyful sound of 'Loose, loose,' reaches his ears. - The news of its being four o'clock, and of the order, 'Loose, - loose,' having been shouted down the shaft, is by systematic - arrangement sent for many miles in all directions round the - farthest extremities of the pit. The trapper waits until the last - putter passes with his tram, and then he follows and pursues his - journey to the foot of the shaft, and takes an opportunity of - getting into the cage and going up when he can. By five o'clock - he may probably get home. Here he finds a warm dinner, baked - potatoes, and broiled bacon lying above them. He eats heartily - at the warm fire, and sits a little after. He dare not go out to - play with other boys, for the more he plays the more he is sure - to sleep the next day in the pit. He, therefore, remains at home, - until, feeling drowsy, he then repeats the prayer taught by our - blessed Lord, takes off his clothes, is thoroughly washed in hot - water by his mother, and is laid in his bed." - -[Illustration: HURRIER AND THRUSTER.] - -The evidence of the Parliamentary commissioners proves that Dr. -Mitchell has given the life of the young trapper a somewhat softened -colouring. Mr. Scriven states that the children employed in this way -become almost idiotic from the long, dark, solitary confinement. Many -of them never see the light of day during the winter season, except on -Sundays. - -The loaded corves drawn by the hurriers weigh from two to five -hundred-weight. These carriages are mounted upon four cast-iron wheels -of five inches in diameter, there being, in general, no rails from the -headings to the main gates. The children have to drag these carriages -through passages in some cases not more than from sixteen to twenty -inches in height. Of course, to accomplish this, the young children -must crawl on their hands and feet. To render their labour the more -easy, the sub-commissioner states that they buckle round their naked -person a broad leather strap, to which is attached in front a ring and -about four feet of chain, terminating in a hook. As soon as they enter -the main gates, they detach the harness from the corve, change their -position by getting behind it, and become "thrusters." The carriage is -then placed upon the rail, a candle is stuck fast by a piece of wet -clay, and away they run with amazing swiftness to the shaft, pushing -the loads with their heads and hands. The younger children thrust in -pairs. - - "After trapping," says the report of the commissioners, "the - next labour in the ascending scale to which the children are - put, is 'thrutching,' or thrusting, which consists in being - helper to a 'drawer,' or 'wagoner,' who is master, or 'butty,' - over the 'thrutcher,' In some pits, the thrutcher has his head - protected by a thick cap, and he will keep on his trousers and - clogs; but in others, he works nearly naked. The size of the - loads which he has to thrutch varies with the thickness of the - seam; and with the size, varies his butty's method of proceeding, - which is either as a drawer or a wagoner. The drawers are those - who use the belt and chain. Their labour consists in loading, - with the coals hewn down by the 'getter,' an oblong tub without - wheels, and dragging this tub on its sledge bottom by means of a - girdle of rough leather passing round the body, and a chain of - iron attached to that girdle in front, and hooked to the sledge. - The drawer has, with the aid of his thrutcher, to sledge the - tub in this manner from the place of getting to the mainway, - generally down, though sometimes up, a brow or incline of the - same steepness as the inclination of the strata; in descending - which he goes to the front of his tub, where his light is fixed, - and, turning his face to it, regulates its motion down the hill, - as, proceeding back foremost, he pulls it along by his belt. When - he gets to the mainway, which will be at various distances not - exceeding forty or fifty yards from his loading-place, he has to - leave this tub upon a low truck running on small iron wheels, and - then to go and fetch a second, which will complete its load, and - with these two to join with his thrutcher in pushing it along - the iron railway to the pit bottom to have the tubs successively - hooked on to the drawing-rope. Returning with his tubs empty, he - leaves the mainway, first with one, and then with the other tub, - to get them loaded, dragging them up the 'brow' by his belt and - chain, the latter of which he now passes between his legs, so as - to pull, face foremost, on all fours. In the thin seams, this - labour has to be performed in bays, leading from the place of - getting to the mainways, of scarcely more than twenty inches in - height, and in mainways of only two feet six inches, and three - feet high, for the seam itself will only be eighteen inches thick. - - "Wagoning is a form of drawing which comes into use with the - more extensive employment of railways in the thicker seams. - The tubs here used are large, and all mounted on wheels. From - the place of getting, the loads are pushed by the wagoners with - hands and heads to the bottom of the pit along the levels; and - where they have to descend from one level into another, this is - generally done by a cut at right angles directly with the dip, - down the 'brow' which it makes. Here there is a winch or pinion - for jigging the wagons down the incline, with a jigger at the top - and a hooker-on at the bottom of the plane, where it is such as - to require these. The jiggers and the hookers-on are children of - twelve or thirteen. Sometimes the descent from one line of level - into another is by a diagonal cutting at a small angle from the - levels, called a slant, down which the wagoners can, and do, - in some instances, take their wagons without jigging, by their - own manual labour; and a very rough process it is, owing to the - impetus which so great a weight acquires, notwithstanding the - scotching of the wheels." - -Mr. Kennedy thus describes the position of the children, in the -combined drawing and thrutching:— - - "The child in front is harnessed by his belt or chain to the - wagon; the two boys behind are assisting in pushing it forward. - Their heads, it will be observed, are brought down to a level - with the wagon, and the body almost in the horizontal position. - This is done partly to avoid striking the roof, and partly to - gain the advantage of the muscular action, which is greatest in - that position. It will be observed, the boy in front goes on his - hands and feet: in that manner, the whole weight of his body is, - in fact, supported by the chain attached to the wagon and his - feet, and, consequently, his power of drawing is greater than it - would be if he crawled on his knees. These boys, by constantly - pushing against the wagons, occasionally rub off the hair from - the crowns of their heads so much as to make them almost bald." - -In Derbyshire, some of the pits are altogether worked by boys. The -seams are so thin, that several have only a two-feet headway to all -the workings. The boy who gets the coal, lies on his side while at -work. The coal is then loaded in a barrow, or tub, and drawn along the -bank to the pit mouth by boys from eight to twelve years of age, on -all fours, with a dog-belt and chain, the passages being very often -an inch or two thick in black mud, and neither ironed nor wooded. -In Mr. Barnes's pit, these boys have to drag the barrows with one -hundred-weight of coal or slack, sixty times a day, sixty yards, and -the empty barrows back, without once straightening their backs, unless -they choose to stand under the shaft and run the risk of having their -heads broken by coal falling. - -In some of the mines, the space of the workings is so small that the -adult colliers are compelled to carry on their operations in a stooping -posture; and, in others, they are obliged to work lying their whole -length along the uneven floor, and supporting their heads upon a board -or short crutch. In these low, dark, heated, and dismal chambers, they -work perfectly naked. In many of the thin-seam mines, the labour of -"getting" coal, so severe for adults, was found by the commissioners to -be put upon children from nine to twelve years of age. - -If the employment of boys in such a way be, as a miner said to the -commissioners, "barbarity, barbarity," what are we to think of the -slavery of female children in the same abyss of darkness? How shall -we express our feelings upon learning that females, in the years -of opening womanhood, are engaged in the same occupations as their -male companions, in circumstances repugnant to the crudest sense of -decency? Yet we have unimpeachable evidence that, at the time of the -investigations of the commissioners, females were thus employed; and -there is reason to believe that this is still the case. - -[Illustration: COAL GETTER.] - -The commissioners found females employed like the males in the labours -of the mines in districts of Yorkshire and Lancashire, in the East -of Scotland, and in Wales. In great numbers of the pits visited, the -men were working in a state of entire nakedness, and were assisted -by females of all ages, from girls of six years old to women of -twenty-one—these females being themselves quite naked down to the -waist. Mr. Thomas Pearce says that in the West Riding of Yorkshire— - - "The girls hurry with a belt and chain, as well as thrust. There - are as many girls as boys employed about here. One of the most - disgusting sights I have ever seen, was that of young females, - dressed like boys in trousers, crawling on all fours, with belts - around their waists and chains passing between their legs, at - day-pits at Thurshelf Bank, and in many small pits near Holmfirth - and New Mills. It exists also in several other places." - -In the neighbourhood of Halifax, it is stated that there is no -distinction whatever between the boys and girls in their coming up the -shaft and going down; in their mode of hurrying or thrusting; in the -weight of corves; in the distance they are hurried; in wages or dress; -that the girls associate and labour with men who are in a state of -nakedness, and that they have themselves no other garment than a ragged -shift, or, in the absence of that, a pair of broken trousers, to cover -their persons. - -Here are specimens of the evidence taken by the commissioners:— - - "Susan Pitchforth, aged eleven, Elland: 'I have worked in this - pit going two years. I have one sister going of fourteen, and she - works with me in the pit. I am a thruster.' - - "'This child,' said the sub-commissioner, 'stood shivering before - me from cold. The rags that hung about her waist were once - called a shift, which was as black as the coal she thrust, and - saturated with water—the drippings of the roof and shaft. During - my examination of her, the banksman, whom I had left in the pit, - came to the public-house and wanted to take her away, because, - as he expressed himself, it was not decent that she should be - exposed to us.' - - "Patience Kershaw, aged seventeen: 'I hurry in the clothes I have - now got on, (trousers and ragged jacket;) the bald place upon my - head is made by thrusting the corves; the getters I work for are - naked except their caps; they pull off their clothes; all the men - are naked.' - - "Mary Barrett, aged fourteen: 'I work always without stockings, - or shoes, or trousers; I wear nothing but my shift; I have to go - up to the headings with the men; they are all naked there; I am - got well used to that, and don't care much about it; I was afraid - at first, and did not like it.'" - - In the Lancashire coal-fields lying to the north and west of - Manchester, females are regularly employed in underground labour; - and the brutal policy of the men, and the abasement of the women, - is well described by some of the witnesses examined by Mr. - Kennedy. - - "Peter Gaskill, collier, at Mr. Lancaster's, near Worsley: - 'Prefers women to boys as drawers; they are better to manage, - and keep the time better; they will fight and shriek and do - every thing but let anybody pass them; and they never get to be - coal-getters—that is another good thing.' - - [Illustration: GIRL WITH COAL CART IN THIN SEAM.] - - "Betty Harris, aged thirty-seven, drawer in a coal-pit, Little - Bolton: 'I have a belt round my waist and a chain passing between - my legs, and I go on my hands and feet. The road is very steep, - and we have to hold by a rope, and when there is no rope, by any - thing we can catch hold of. There are six women and about six - boys and girls in the pit I work in; it is very hard work for - a woman. The pit is very wet where I work, and the water comes - over our clog-tops always, and I have seen it up to my thighs; it - rains in at the roof terribly; my clothes are wet through almost - all day long. I never was ill in my life but when I was lying-in. - My cousin looks after my children in the daytime. I am very tired - when I get home at night; I fall asleep sometimes before I get - washed. I am not so strong as I was, and cannot stand my work so - well as I used to do. I have drawn till I have had the skin off - me. The belt and chain is worse when we are in the family-way. My - feller (husband) has beaten me many a time for not being ready. I - were not used to it at first, and he had little patience; I have - known many a man beat his drawer.' - - "Mary Glover, aged thirty-eight, at Messrs. Foster's, Ringley - Bridge: 'I went into a coal-pit when I was seven years old, and - began by being a drawer. I never worked much in the pit when I - was in the family-way, but since I have gave up having children, - I have begun again a bit. I wear a shift and a pair of trousers - when at work. I always will have a good pair of trousers. I have - had many a twopence given me by the boatmen on the canal to show - my breeches. I never saw women work naked, but I have seen men - work without breeches in the neighbourhood of Bolton. I remember - seeing a man who worked stark naked.'" - -In the East of Scotland, the business of the females is to remove -the coals from the hewer who has picked them from the wall-face, and -placing them either on their backs, which they invariably do when -working in edge-seams, or in _little carts_ when on levels, to carry -them to the main road, where they are conveyed to the pit bottom, -where, being emptied into the ascending basket of the shaft, they -are wound by machinery to the pit's mouth, where they lie heaped for -further distribution. Mr. Franks, an Englishman, says of this barbarous -toil— - - "Now when the nature of this horrible labour is taken into - consideration; its extreme severity; its regular duration of from - twelve to fourteen hours daily; the damp, heated, and unwholesome - atmosphere of a coal-mine, and the tender age and sex of the - workers, a picture is presented of deadly physical oppression and - systematic slavery, of which I conscientiously believe no one - unacquainted with such facts would credit the existence in the - British dominions." - -The loads of coal carried on the backs of females vary in weight from -three-quarters of a hundred-weight to three hundred-weight. In working -edge-seams, or highly inclined beds, the load must be borne to the -surface, or to the pit-bottom, up winding stairs, or a succession of -steep ladders. The disgrace of this peculiar form of oppression is said -to be confined to Scotland, "where, until nearly the close of the last -century, the colliers remained in a state of legal bondage, and formed -a degraded caste, apart from all humanizing influences and sympathy." -From all accounts, they are not much improved in condition at the -present time. - -A sub-commissioner thus describes a female child's labour in a Scottish -mine, and gives some of the evidence he obtained:— - - "She has first to descend a nine-ladder pit to the first rest, - even to which a shaft is sunk, to draw up the baskets or tubs of - coals filled by the bearers; she then takes her creel (a basket - formed to the back, not unlike a cockle-shell, flattened toward - the back of the neck, so as to allow lumps of coal to rest on - the back of the neck and shoulders,) and pursues her journey to - the wall-face, or, as it is called here, the room of work. She - then lays down her basket, into which the coal is rolled, and - it is frequently more than one man can do to lift the burden on - her back. The tugs or straps are placed over the forehead, and - the body bent in a semicircular form, in order to stiffen the - arch. Large lumps of coal are then placed on the neck, and she - then commences her journey with her burden to the bottom, first - hanging her lamp to the cloth crossing her head. In this girl's - case, she has first to travel about fourteen fathoms (eighty-four - feet) from wall-face to the first ladder, which is eighteen feet - high; leaving the first ladder, she proceeds along the main road, - probably three feet six inches to four feet six inches high, to - the second ladder, eighteen feet high; so on to the third and - fourth ladders, till she reaches the pit-bottom, where she casts - her load, varying from one hundred-weight to one hundred-weight - and a half, in the tub. This one journey is designated a rake; - the height ascended, and the distance along the roads added - together, exceed the height of St. Paul's Cathedral; and it not - unfrequently happens that the tugs break, and the load falls - upon those females who are following. However incredible it may - be, yet I have taken the evidence of fathers who have ruptured - themselves from straining to lift coal on their children's backs. - - "Janet Cumming, eleven years old, bears coals: 'I gang with - the women at five, and come up with the women at five at - night; work _all night_ on Fridays, and come away at twelve - in the day. I carry the large bits of coal from the wall-face - to the pit-bottom, and the small pieces called chows in a - creel. The weight is usually a hundred-weight, does not know - how many pounds there are in a hundred-weight, but it is some - weight to carry; it takes three journeys to fill a tub of four - hundred-weight. The distance varies, as the work is not always on - the same wall; sometimes one hundred and fifty fathoms, whiles - two hundred and fifty fathoms. The roof is very low; I have to - bend my back and legs, and the water comes frequently up to the - calves of my legs. Has no liking for the work; father makes me - like it. Never got hurt, but often obliged to scramble out of the - pit when bad air was in.' - - "William Hunter, mining oversman, Arniston Colliery: 'I have been - twenty years in the works of Robert Dundas, Esq., and had much - experience in the manner of drawing coal, as well as the habits - and practices of the collier people. Until the last eight months, - women and lasses were wrought below in these works, when Mr. - Alexander Maxton, our manager, issued an order to exclude them - from going below, having some months prior given intimation of - the same. Women always did the lifting or heavy part of the work, - and neither they nor the children were treated like human beings, - nor are they where they are employed. Females submit to work - in places where no man or even lad could be got to labour in; - they work in bad roads, up to their knees in water, in a posture - nearly double; they are below till the last hour of pregnancy; - they have swelled haunches and ankles, and are prematurely - brought to the grave, or, what is worse, lingering existence. - Many of the daughters of the miners are now at respectable - service. I have two who are in families at Leith, and who are - much delighted with the change.' - - "Robert Bald, Esq., the eminent coal-viewer, states that, 'In - surveying the workings of an extensive colliery under ground, a - married woman came forward, groaning under an excessive weight - of coals, trembling in every nerve, and almost unable to keep - her knees from sinking under her. On coming up, she said, in a - plaintive and melancholy voice, "Oh, sir, this is sore, sore, - sore work. I wish to God that the first woman who tried to bear - coals had broke her back, and none would have tried it again." - -The boxes or carriages employed in putting are of two kinds—the -hutchie and the slype; the hutchie being an oblong, square-sided -box with four wheels, which usually runs on a rail; and the slype a -wood-framed box, curved and shod with iron at the bottom, holding -from two and a quarter to five hundred-weight of coal, adapted to the -seams through which it is dragged. The lad or lass is harnessed over -the shoulders and back with a strong leathern girth, which, behind, is -furnished with an iron-hook, which is attached to a chain fastened to -the coal-cart or slype. The dresses of these girls are made of coarse -hempen stuff, fitting close to the figures; the coverings to their -heads are made of the same material. Little or no flannel is used, -and their clothing, being of an absorbent nature, frequently gets -completely saturated shortly after descending the pit. We quote more -of the evidence obtained by the commissioners. It scarcely needs any -comment:— - - "Margaret Hipps, seventeen years old, putter, Stoney Rigg - Colliery, Stirlingshire: 'My employment, after reaching the - wall-face, is to fill my bagie, or slype, with two and a half to - three hundred-weight of coal. I then hook it on to my chain and - drag it through the seam, which is twenty-six to twenty-eight - inches high, till I get to the main road—a good distance, - probably two hundred to four hundred yards. The pavement I drag - over is wet, and I am obliged at all times to crawl on hands - and feet with my bagie hung to the chain and ropes. It is sad - sweating and sore fatiguing work, and frequently maims the women.' - - "Sub-commissioner: 'It is almost incredible that human beings - can submit to such employment, crawling on hands and knees, - harnessed like horses, over soft, slushy floors, more difficult - than dragging the same weights through our lowest common sewers, - and more difficult in consequence of the inclination, which is - frequently one in three to one in six.' - - "Agnes Moffatt, seventeen years old, coal-bearer: 'Began working - at ten years of age; father took sister and I down; he gets our - wages. I fill five baskets; the weight is more than twenty-two - hundred-weight; it takes me twenty journeys. The work is o'er - sair for females. It is no uncommon for women to lose their - burden, and drop off the ladder down the dyke below; Margaret - McNeil did a few weeks since, and injured both legs. When the - tugs which pass over the forehead break, which they frequently - do, it is very dangerous to be under with a load.' - - "Margaret Jacques, seventeen years of age, coal-bearer: 'I have - been seven years at coal-bearing; it is horrible sore work; it - was not my choice, but we do our parents' will. I make thirty - rakes a day, with two hundred-weight of coal on my creel. It is a - guid distance I journey, and very dangerous on parts of the road. - The distance fast increases as the coals are cut down.' - - "Helen Reid, sixteen years old, coal-bearer: 'I have wrought five - years in the mines in this part; my employment is carrying coal. - Am frequently worked from four in the morning until six at night. - I work night-work week about, (alternate weeks.) I then go down - at two in the day, and come up at four and six in the morning. - I can carry near two hundred-weight _on_ my back. I do not like - the work. Two years since the pit closed upon thirteen of us, - and we were two days without food or light; nearly one day we - were up to our chins in water. At last we got to an old shaft, - to which we picked our way, and were heard by people watching - above. Two months ago, I was filling the tubs at the pit bottom, - when the gig clicked too early, and the hook caught me by my - pit-clothes—the people did not hear my shrieks—my hand had fast - grappled the chain, and the great height of the shaft caused me - to lose my courage, and I swooned. The banksman could scarcely - remove my hand—the deadly grasp saved my life.' - - "Margaret Drysdale, fifteen years old, coal-putter: 'I don't like - the work, but mother is dead, and father brought me down; I had - no choice. The lasses will tell you that they all like the work - fine, as they think you are going to take them out of the pits. - My employment is to draw the carts. I have harness, or draw-ropes - on, like the horses, and pull the carts. Large carts hold seven - hundred-weight and a half, the smaller five hundred-weight and a - half. The roads are wet, and I have to draw the work about one - hundred fathoms.' - - "Katherine Logan, sixteen years old, coal-putter: 'Began to work - at coal-carrying more than five years since; works in harness - now; draw backward with face to tubs; the ropes and chains go - under my pit-clothes; it is o'er sair work, especially where we - crawl.' - - "Janet Duncan, seventeen years old, coal-putter: 'Works - at putting, and was a coal-bearer at Hen-Muir Pit and New - Pencaitland. The carts I push contain three hundred-weight of - coal, being a load and a half; it is very severe work, especially - when we have to stay before the tubs, on the braes, to prevent - them coming down too fast; they frequently run too quick, and - knock us down; when they run over fast, we fly off the roads and - let them go, or we should be crushed. Mary Peacock was severely - crushed a fortnight since; is gradually recovering. I have - wrought above in harvest time; it is the only other work that - ever I tried my hand at, and having harvested for three seasons, - am able to say that the hardest daylight work is infinitely - superior to the best of coal-work.' - - "Jane Wood, wife of James Wood, formerly a coal-drawer and - bearer: 'Worked below more than thirty years. I have two - daughters below, who really hate the employment, and often prayed - to leave, but we canna do well without them just now. The severe - work causes women much trouble; they frequently have premature - births. Jenny McDonald, a neighbour, was laid idle six months; - and William King's wife lately died from miscarriage, and a vast - of women suffer from similar causes.' - - "Margaret Boxter, fifty years old, coal-hewer: 'I hew the coal; - have done so since my husband failed in his breath; he has been - off work twelve years. I have a son, daughter, and niece working - with me below, and we have sore work to get maintenance. I go - down early to hew the coal for my girls to draw; my son hews - also. The work is not fit for women, and men could prevent it - were they to labour more regular; indeed, men about this place - don't wish wives to work in mines, but the masters seem to - encourage it—at any rate, the masters never interfere to prevent - it.'" - - "The different kinds of work to which females are put in South - Wales, are described in the following evidence:— - - "Henrietta Frankland, eleven years old, drammer: 'When - well, I draw the drams, (carts,) which contain four to five - hundred-weight of coal, from the heads to the main road; I make - forty-eight to fifty journeys; sister, who is two years older, - works also at dramming; the work is very hard, and the long hours - before the pay-day fatigue us much. The mine is wet where we - work, as the water passes through the roof, and the workings are - only thirty to thirty-three inches high.' - - "Mary Reed, twelve years old, air-door keeper: 'Been five years - in the Plymouth mine. Never leaves till the last dram (cart) is - drawn past by the horse. Works from six till four or five at - night. Has run home very hungry; runs along the level or hangs on - a cart as it passes. Does not like the work in the dark; would - not mind the daylight work.' - - "Hannah Bowen, sixteen years old, windlass-woman: 'Been down two - years; it is good hard work; work from seven in the morning till - three or four in the afternoon at hauling the windlass. Can draw - up four hundred loads of one hundred-weight and a half to four - hundred-weight each.' - - "Ann Thomas, sixteen years old, windlass-woman: 'Finds the work - very hard; two women always work the windlass below ground. We - wind up eight hundred loads. Men do not like the winding, _it is - too hard work for them_.'" - -The commissioners ascertained that when the work-people were in -full employment, the regular hours for children and young persons -were rarely less than eleven; more often they were twelve; in some -districts, they are thirteen; and, in one district, they are -generally fourteen and upward. In Derbyshire, south of Chesterfield, -from thirteen to sixteen hours are considered a day's work. Of the -exhausting effects of such labour for so long a time, we shall scarcely -need any particular evidence. But one boy, named John Bostock, told the -commissioners that he had often been made to work until he was so tired -as to lie down on his road home until twelve o'clock, when his mother -had come and led him home; and that he had sometimes been so tired that -he could not eat his dinner, but had been beaten and made to work until -night. Many other cases are recorded:— - - "John Rawson, collier, aged forty: 'I work at Mr. Sorby's - pit, Handsworth. I think the children are worked overmuch - sometimes.'—_Report_, No. 81, p. 243, 1. 25. - - "Peter Waring, collier, Billingby: 'I never should like my - children to go in. They are not beaten; it is the work that hurts - them; it is mere slavery, and nothing but it.'—Ibid. No. 125, p. - 256, 1. 6. - - "John Hargreave, collier, Thorpe's Colliery: 'Hurrying is heavy - work for children. They ought not to work till they are twelve - years old, and then put two together for heavy corves.'—Ibid. - No. 130, p. 256, 1. 44. - - "Mr. Timothy Marshall, collier, aged thirty-five, Darton: 'I - think the hurrying is what hurts girls, and it is too hard work - for their strength; I think that children cannot be educated - after they once get to work in pits; they are both tired and even - disinclined to learn when they have done work.'—Ibid. No. 141, - p. 262, 1. 39. - - "A collier at Mr. Travis's pit: 'The children get but little - schooling; six or seven out of nine or ten know nothing. They - never go to night-schools, except some odd ones. When the - children get home, they cannot go to school, for they have to be - up so early in the morning—soon after four—and they cannot do - without rest.'—Ibid. No. 94, p. 246, 1. 33. - - "Mr. George Armitage, aged thirty-six, formerly collier at - Silkstone, now teacher at Hayland School: 'Little can be learnt - merely on Sundays, and they are too tired as well as indisposed - to go to night-schools. I am decidedly of opinion that when trade - is good, the work of hurriers is generally continuous; but when - there are two together, perhaps the little one will have a rest - while the big one is filling or riddling.'—Ibid., No. 138, p. - 261, 1. 24. - - "William Firth, between six and seven years old, Deal Wood - Pit, Flockton: 'I hurry with my sister. I don't like to be in - pit. I was crying to go out this morning. It tires me a good - deal.'—Ibid. No. 218, p. 282, 1. 11. - - "John Wright, hurrier in Thorpe's colliery: 'I shall be nine - years old next Whitsuntide. It tires me much. It tires my arms. - I have been two years in the pit, and have been hurrying all the - time. It tries the small of my arms.'—Ibid. No. 129, p. 256, 1. - 31. - - "Daniel Dunchfield: 'I am going in ten; I am more tired in the - forenoon than at night; it makes my back ache; I work all day - the same as the other boys; I rest me when I go home at night; I - never go to play at night; I get my supper and go to bed.'—Ibid. - No. 63, p. 238, 1. 32. - - "George Glossop, aged twelve: 'I help to fill and hurry, and am - always tired at night when I've done.'—Ibid. No. 50, p. 236, 1. - 21. - - "Martin Stanley: 'I tram by myself, and find it very hard work. - It tires me in my legs and shoulders every day.'—Ibid. No. 69, - p. 240, 1. 27. - - "Charles Hoyle: 'I was thirteen last January. I work in the thin - coal-pit. I find it very hard work. We work at night one week, - and in the day the other. It tires me very much sometimes. It - tires us most in the legs, especially when we have to go on our - hands and feet. I fill as well as hurry.'—Ibid. No. 78, p. 242, - 1. 41. - - "Jonathan Clayton, thirteen and a half years old, Soap Work - Colliery, Sheffield: 'Hurrying is very hard work; when I got home - at night, I was knocked up.'—Ibid. No. 6, p. 227, 1. 48. - - "Andrew Roger, aged seventeen years: 'I work for my father, who - is an undertaker. I get, and have been getting two years. I find - it very hard work indeed; it tires me very much; I can hardly get - washed of a night till nine o'clock, I am so tired.'—Ibid. No. - 60, p. 237, 1. 49. - - ["'This witness,' says the sub-commissioner, 'when examined in - the evening after his work was over, ached so much that he could - not stand upright.']—Ibid. s. 109; App. pt. i. p. 181. - - "Joseph Reynard, aged nineteen, Mr. Stancliffe's pit, Mirfield: - 'I began hurrying when I was nine; I get now; I cannot hurry, - because one leg is shorter than the other. I have had my hip bad - since I was fifteen. I am very tired at nights. I worked in a wet - place to-day. I have worked in places as wet as I have been in - to-day.' - - ["'I examined Joseph Reynard; he has several large abscesses in - his thigh, from hip-joint disease. The thigh-bone is dislocated - from the same cause; the leg is about three inches shorter; two - or three of the abscesses are now discharging. No appearance of - puberty from all the examinations I made. I should not think him - more than eleven or twelve years of age, except from his teeth. I - think him quite unfit to follow any occupation, much less the one - he now occupies. - - Signed, "'U. BRADBURY, Surgeon.'] - - "'This case,' says the sub-commissioner, 'is one reflecting the - deepest discredit on his employers.'—_Symons, Evidence_, No. - 272; App. pt. i. p. 298, 1. 29. - - "Elizabeth Eggley, sixteen years old: 'I find my work very much - too hard for me. I hurry alone. It tires me in my arms and back - most. I am sure it is very hard work, and tires us very much; it - is too hard work for girls to do. We sometimes go to sleep before - we get to bed.'—Ibid. No. 114, p. 252, 1. 44. - - "Ann Wilson, aged ten and a half years, Messrs. Smith's colliery: - 'Sometimes the work tires us when we have a good bit to do; - it tires we in my back. I hurry by myself. I push with my - head.'—Ibid. No. 229, p. 224, 1. 12. - - "Elizabeth Day, hurrier, Messrs. Hopwood's pit, Barnsley: 'It - is very hard work for us all. It is harder work than we ought - to do, a deal. I have been lamed in my back, and strained in my - back.'—Ibid. No. 80, p. 244, 1. 33. - - "Mary Shaw: 'I am nineteen years old. I hurry in the pit you were - in to-day. I have ever been much tired with my work.'—Ibid. No. - 123, p. 249, 1. 38. - - "Ann Eggley, hurrier in Messrs. Thorpe's colliery: 'The work is - far too hard for me; the sweat runs off me all over sometimes. I - am very tired at night. Sometimes when we get home at night, we - have not power to wash us, and then we go to bed. Sometimes we - fall asleep in the chair. Father said last night it was both a - shame and a disgrace for girls to work as we do, but there was - nought else for us to do. The girls are always tired.'—Ibid. No. - 113, p. 252, 1. 17. - - "Elizabeth Coats: 'I hurry with my brother. It tires me a great - deal, and tires my back and arms.'—Ibid. No. 115, p. 252, 1. 59. - - "Elizabeth Ibbitson, at Mr. Harrison's pit, Gomersel: 'I don't - like being at pit; I push the corf with my head, and it hurts me, - and is sore.'—Ibid. No. 266, p. 292, 1. 17. - - "Margaret Gomley, Lindley Moor, aged nine: 'Am very - tired.'—_Scriven, Evidence_, No. 9; App. pt. ii. p. 103, 1. 34. - - "James Mitchell, aged twelve, Messrs. Holt and Hebblewaite's: 'I - am very tired when I get home; it is enough to tire a horse; and - stooping so much makes it bad.'—Ibid. No. 2, p. 101, 1. 32. - - "William Whittaker, aged sixteen, Mr. Rawson's colliery: 'I am - always very tired when I go home.'—Ibid. No. 13, p. 104, 1. 55. - - "George Wilkinson, aged thirteen, Low Moor: 'Are you tired now? - Nay. Were you tired then? Yea. What makes the difference? I can - hurry a deal better now.'—_W. R. Wood, Esq., Evidence_, No. 18, - App. pt. ii. p. _h_ 11, 1. 30. - - "John Stevenson, aged fourteen, Low Moor: 'Has worked in a - coal-pit eight years; went in at six years old; used to rue to go - in; does not rue now; it was very hard when he went in, and "I - were nobbud a right little one." Was not strong enough when he - first went; had better have been a little bigger; used to be very - tired; did not when he first went. I waur ill tired.'—Ibid. No. - 15, p. _h_ 10, 1. 39. - - "Jabez Scott, aged fifteen, Bowling Iron Works: 'Work is very - hard; sleeps well sometimes; sometimes is very ill tired and - cannot sleep so well.'—Ibid. No. 38, p. _h_ 10, 1. 29. - - "William Sharpe, Esq., F. R. S., surgeon, Bradford, states: 'That - he has for twenty years professionally attended at the Low Moor - Iron Works; that there are occasionally cases of deformity, and - also bad cases of scrofula, apparently induced by the boys being - too early sent into the pits, by their working beyond their - strength, by their constant stooping, and by occasionally working - in water.'"—Ibid. No. 60, p. _h_ 27, 1. 45. - -The statements of the children, as will be seen, are confirmed by the -evidence of the adult work-people, in which we also find some further -developments:— - - "William Fletcher, aged thirty-three, collier, West Hallam: - 'Considers the collier's life a very hard one both for man and - boy, the latter full as hard as the former.'—_Report_, No. 37, - p. 279, 1. 17. - - "John Beasley, collier, aged forty-nine, Shipley: 'He has known - instances where the children have been so overcome with the - work, as to cause them to go off in a decline; he has seen those - who could not get home without their father's assistance, and - have fallen asleep before they could be got to bed; has known - children of six years old sent to the pit, but thinks there are - none at Shipley under seven or eight; it is his opinion a boy is - too weak to stand the hours, even to drive between, until he is - eight or nine years old; the boys go down at six in the morning, - and has known them kept down until nine or ten, until they are - almost ready to exhaust; the children and young persons work the - same hours as the men; the children are obliged to work in the - night if the wagon-road is out of repair, or the water coming on - them; it happens sometimes two or three times in the week; they - then go down at six P.M. to six A.M., and have from ten minutes - to half an hour allowed for supper, according to the work they - have to do; they mostly ask the children who have been at work - the previous day to go down with them, but seldom have to oblige - them; when he was a boy, he has worked for thirty-six hours - running many a time, and many more besides himself have done - so.'—Ibid. No. 40, p. 274, 1. 23. - - "William Wardle, aged forty, Eastwood: 'There is no doubt - colliers are much harder worked than labourers; indeed, it is the - hardest work under heaven.'—Ibid. No. 84, p. 287, 1. 51. - - "Samuel Richards, aged forty, Awsworth: 'There are Sunday-schools - when they will go; but when boys have been beaten, knocked about, - and covered with sludge all the week, they want to be in bed to - rest all day on Sunday.'—Ibid. No. 166, p. 307, 1. 58. - - "William Sellers, operative, aged twenty-two, Butterley Company: - 'When he first worked in the pit, he has been so tired that he - slept as he walked.'—Ibid. No. 222, p. 319, 1. 35. - - "William Knighton, aged twenty-four, Denby: 'He remembers "mony" - a time he has dropped asleep with the meat in his mouth through - fatigue; it is those butties—they are the very devil; they - impose upon them in one way, then in another.'—Ibid. No. 314, p. - 334, 1. 42. - - "— —, engine-man, Babbington: 'Has, when working whole - days, often seen the children lie down on the pit-bank and go to - sleep, they were so tired.'—Ibid. No. 137, p. 300, 1. 10. - - "John Attenborough, schoolmaster, Greasley: 'Has observed that - the collier children are more tired and dull than the others, but - equally anxious to learn.'—Ibid. No. 153, p. 304, 1. 122. - - "Ann Birkin: 'Is mother to Thomas and Jacob, who work in Messrs. - Fenton's pits; they have been so tired after a whole day's - work, that she has at times had to wash them and lift them into - bed.'—Ibid. No. 81, p. 285, 1. 59. - - "Hannah Neale, Butterley Park: 'They come home so tired that they - become stiff, and can hardly get to bed; Constantine, the one - ten years old, formerly worked in the same pit as his brothers, - but about a half a year since his toe was cut off by the bind - falling; notwithstanding this, the loader made him work until the - end of the day, although in the greatest pain. He was out of work - more than four months owing to this accident.'—Ibid. No. 237, p. - 320, 1. 51. - - "Ellen Wagstaff, Watnall: 'Has five children, three at Trough - lane and two at Willow lane, Greasley; one at Trough lane is - eighteen, one fourteen, one thirteen years of age; and those - at Willow lane are sixteen and nineteen; they are variously - employed; the youngest was not seven years old when he first went - to the pits. The whole have worked since they were seven or seven - and a half; they have worked from six to eight; from six to two - for half days, no meal-time in half days; she has known them when - at full work so tired when they first worked, that you could not - hear them speak, and they fell asleep before they could eat their - suppers; it has grieved her to the heart to see them.'—Ibid. No. - 104, p. 292, 1. 18. - - "Ann Wilson, Underwood: 'Is stepmother to Matthew Wilson and - mother to Richard Clarke. Has heard what they have said, and - believes it to be true; has known them when they work whole days - they have come home so tired and dirty, that they could scarcely - be prevented lying down on the ashes by the fireside, and could - not take their clothes off; has had to do it for them, and take - them to the brook and wash them, and has sat up most of the night - to get their clothes dry. The next morning they have gone to work - like bears to the stake.'—Ibid. No. 112, p. 294, 1. 5. - - "Hannah Brixton, Babbington: 'The butties slave them past any - thing. Has frequently had them drop asleep as soon as they have - got in the house, and complain of their legs and arms aching very - bad.'—Ibid. No. 149, p. 302, 1. 44. - - "Michael Wilkins: 'Never has a mind for his victuals; never feels - himself hungry.' - - "John Charlton: 'Thinks the stythe makes him bad so that he - cannot eat his bait, and often brings it all home with him again, - or eats very little of it.' - - "Michael Richardson: 'He never has much appetite; and the dust - often blacks his victuals. Is always dry and thirsty.' - - - "William Beaney: 'Has thrown up his victuals often when he came - home; thinks the bad air made him do this.' - - "John Thompson: 'Often throws up his food.' - - "Thomas Newton: 'Threw up his victuals last night when he came - home. Never does so down in the pit, but often does when he comes - home.' - - "Moses Clerk: 'Throws up his victuals nearly every day at home - and down in the pit.' - - "Thomas Martin: 'Many times feels sick, and feels headache, and - throws up his food. Was well before he went down in the pit.' - - "Thomas Fawcett: 'Many a night falls sick; and he many times - throws up his meat when he is in bed. Sometimes feels bad and - sick in the morning.' - - "George Alder: 'Has been unwell of late with the hard work. Has - felt very sick and weak all this last week.' (Looks very pale and - unwell.) - - "John Charlton: 'Often obliged to give over. Has been off five - days in the last month. Each of these days was down in the pit - and obliged to come up again.' - - "John Laverick and others: 'Many times they fell sick down in the - pit. Sometimes they have the heart-burn; sometimes they force - up their meat again. Some boys are off a week from being sick; - occasionally they feel pains.' - - "Six trappers: 'Sometimes they feel sick upon going to work in - the morning. Sometimes bring up their breakfasts from their - stomachs again. Different boys at different times do this.' - - "George Short: 'It is bad air where he is, and makes him bad; - makes small spots come out upon him, (small pimples,) which he - thinks is from the air, and he takes physic to stop them. His - head works very often, and he feels sickish sometimes.' - - "Nichol Hudderson: 'The pit makes him sick. Has been very bad in - his health ever since he went down in the pit. Was very healthy - before. The heat makes him sick. The sulphur rising up the shaft - as he goes down makes his head work. Often so sick that he cannot - eat when he gets up, at least he cannot eat very much. About a - half a year since, a boy named John Huggins was very sick down in - the pit, and wanted to come up, but the keeper would not let him - ride, (come up,) and he died of fever one week afterward.' - - ["The father of this lad and his brother fully corroborate this - statement, and the father says the doctor told him that if he - (the boy) had not been kept in the pit, he might have been, - perhaps, saved. This boy never had any thing the matter with him - before he went down into the pit."—_Leifchild, Evidences_, Nos. - 156, 169, 270, 83, 110, 142, 143, 374, 194, 364, 135, 100, 101; - App. pt. i. p. 582 _et seq._ See also the statement of witnesses, - Nos. 315, 327, 351, 359, 360, 361, 362, 363, 365, 377, 381, 382, - 384, 403, 434, 454, 455, 457, 464, 465, 466.] - -Similar statements are made by all classes of witnesses in some other -districts. Thus, in Shropshire:— - - "A surgeon who did not wish his name to be published: 'They - are subject to hypertrophy of the heart, no doubt laying the - foundation of such disease at the early age of from eight to - thirteen years.'—_Mitchell, Evidence_, No. 45; App. pt. i. p. - 81, 1. 16. - - "Mr. Michael Thomas Sadler, surgeon, Barnsley: 'I have found - diseases of the heart in adult colliers, which it struck me arose - from violent exertion. I know of no trade about here where the - work is harder.'—_Symons, Evidence_, No. 139; App. pt. i. p. - 261, 1. 36. - - "Mr. Pearson, surgeon to the dispensary, Wigan: 'They are very - subject to diseases of the heart.'—_Kennedy, Report_, 1. 304; - App. pt. ii. p. 189. - - "Dr. William Thompson, Edinburgh: 'Workers in coal-mines - are exceedingly liable to suffer from irregular action, and - ultimately organic diseases of the heart.'—_Franks, Evidence_, - App. pt. i. p. 409. - - "Scott Alison, M. D., East Lothian: 'I found diseases of the - heart very common among colliers at all ages, from boyhood up - to old age. The most common of them were inflammation of that - organ, and of its covering, the pericardium, simple enlargement - or hypertrophy, contraction of the auriculo-ventricular - communications, and of the commencement of the aorta. These - symptoms were well marked, attended for the most part with - increase of the heart's action, the force of its contraction - being sensibly augmented, and, in many cases, especially those - of hypertrophy, much and preternaturally extended over the - chest.'—Ibid. p. 417. - - "Mr. Thomas Batten, surgeon, Coleford: 'A boy about thirteen - years of age, in the Parkend Pits, died of _hæmorrhagia - purpurea_, (a suffusion of blood under the cuticle,) brought on - by too much exertion of the muscles and whole frame.'—_Waring, - Evidence_, No. 36; App. pt. ii. p. 24, 1. 21. - -To this list of diseases arising from great muscular exertion, must be -added rupture:— - - "Dr. Farell, Sheffield: 'Many of them are ruptured; nor is this - by any means uncommon among lads—arising, in all probability, - from over-exertion.'—_Symons, Evidence_, No. 47, App. pt. i. p. - 286, 1. 2. - - "Mr. Pearson, surgeon to the dispensary, Wigan: 'Colliers are - often ruptured, and they often come to me for advice.'—_Kennedy, - Report_, 1. 304; App. pt. ii. p. 189. - - "Andrew Grey: 'Severe ruptures occasioned by lifting coal. Many - are ruptured on both sides. I am, and suffer severely, and a vast - number of men here are also.'—_Franks, Evidence_, No. 147; App. - pt. i. p. 463, 1. 61. - -But employment in the coal-mines produces another series of diseases -incomparably more painful and fatal, partly referable to excessive -muscular exertion, and partly to the state of the place of work—that -is, to the foul air from imperfect ventilation, and the wetness -from inefficient drainage. Of the diseases of the lungs produced by -employment in the mines, asthma is the most frequent. - - "Mr. William Hartell Baylis: 'The working of the mines brings on - asthma.'—_Mitchell, Evidence_, No. 7; App. pt. i. p. 65, 1. 31. - - "A surgeon who does not wish his name to be published: 'Most - colliers, at the age of thirty, become asthmatic. There are - few attain that age without having the respiratory apparatus - disordered.'—Ibid. No. 45, p. 81, 1. 15. - - "Mr. George Marcy, clerk of the Wellington Union: 'Many - applications are made from miners for relief on account of - sickness, and chiefly from asthmatic complaints, when arrived - at an advanced age. At forty, perhaps, the generality suffer - much from asthma. Those who have applied have been first to the - medical officer, who has confirmed what they said.'—Ibid. No. - 46, p. 81, 1. 44. - - "'I met with very few colliers above forty years of age, who, if - they had not a confirmed asthmatic disease, were not suffering - from difficult breathing.'—_Fellows, Report_, s. 57; App. pt. - ii. p. 256. - - "Phœbe Gilbert, Watnall, Messrs. Barber and Walker: 'She - thinks they are much subject to asthma. Her first husband, - who died aged 57, was unable to work for seven years on that - account.'—_Fellows, Evidence_, No. 105; App. pt. ii. p. 256. - - "William Wardle, collier, forty years of age, Eastwood: 'There - are some who are asthmatical, and many go double.'—Ibid. No. 84, - p. 287, 1. 40. - - "Mr. Henry Hemmingway, surgeon, Dewsbury: 'When children are - working where carbonic acid gas prevails, they are rendered more - liable to affections of the brain and lungs. This acid prevents - the blood from its proper decarbonization as it passes from - the heart to the lungs. It does not get properly quit of the - carbon.'—_Symons, Evidence_, No. 221; App. pt. i. p. 282, 1. 38. - - "Mr. Uriah Bradbury, surgeon, Mirfield: 'They suffer from - asthma.'—Ibid. No. 199, p. 278, 1. 58. - - "Mr. J. B. Greenwood, surgeon, Cleckheaton: 'The cases which have - come before me professionally have been chiefly affections of the - chest and asthma, owing to the damp underfoot, and also to the - dust which arises from the working of the coal.'—Ibid. No. 200, - p. 279, 1. 8. - - "J. Ibetson, collier, aged fifty-three, Birkenshaw: 'I have - suffered from asthma, and am regularly knocked up. A collier - cannot stand the work regularly. He must stop now and then, or he - will be mashed up before any time.'—Ibid. No. 267, p. 292, 1. 42. - - "Joseph Barker, collier, aged forty-three, Windybank Pit: 'I have - a wife and two children; one of them is twenty-two years old; he - is mashed up, (that is, he is asthmatical,) he has been as good a - worker as ever worked in a skin.'—_Scriven, Evidence_, No. 14; - App. pt. ii. p. 104, 1. 60. - - "Mr. George Canney, surgeon, Bishop Aukland: 'Do the children - suffer from early employment in the pits?' Yes, seven and - eight is a very early age, and the constitution must suffer in - consequence. It is injurious to be kept in one position so long, - and in the dark. They go to bed when they come home, and enjoy - very little air. I think there is more than the usual proportion - of pulmonary complaints.'—_Mitchell, Evidence_, No. 97; App. pt. - i. p. 154, 1. 2. - - "Mr. Headlam, physician, Newcastle: 'Diseases of respiration - are more common among pit-men than among others, distinctly - referable to the air in which they work. The air contains a great - proportion of carbonic gas, and carburetted hydrogen. These - diseases of the respiratory organs arise from the breathing of - these gases, principally of the carbonic acid gas.—_Leifchild, - Evidence_, No. 499; App. pt. i. p. 67, 1. 11. - - "Mr. Heath, of Newcastle, surgeon: 'More than usually liable to - asthma; mostly between thirty and forty years of age. A person - always working in the broken would be more liable to asthma. - Asthma is of very slow growth, and it is difficult to say when it - begins. Custom and habit will not diminish the evil effects, but - will diminish the sensibility to these evils.'—Ibid. No. 497, p. - 665, 1. 10-14. - - "Matthew Blackburn, driver, fifteen years of age, Heaton - Colliery: 'Has felt shortness of breath. Helps up sometimes, - but is bound to drive. Cannot help up sometimes for shortness - of breath. His legs often work, (ache;) his shoulders work - sometimes. Working in a wet place.'—Ibid. No. 27, p. 573, 1. 34. - - "Dr. S. Scott Alison, East Lothian: 'Between the twentieth and - thirtieth year the colliers decline in bodily vigour, and become - more and more spare; the difficulty of breathing progresses, - and they find themselves very desirous of some remission from - their labour. This period is fruitful in acute diseases, such - as fever, inflammation of the lungs, pleura, and many other - ailments, the product of over-exertion, exposure to cold and wet, - violence, insufficient clothing, intemperance, and foul air. For - the first few years chronic bronchitis is usually found alone, - and unaccompanied by disease of the body or lungs. The patient - suffers more or less difficulty of breathing, which is affected - by changes of the weather, and by variations in the weight of - the atmosphere. He coughs frequently, and the expectoration - is composed, for the most part, of white frothy and yellowish - mucous fluid, occasionally containing blackish particles of - carbon, the result of the combustion of the lamp, and also of - minute coal-dust. At first, and indeed for several years, the - patient, for the most part, does not suffer much in his general - health, eating heartily, and retaining his muscular strength in - consequence. The disease is rarely, if ever, entirely cured; and - if the collier be not carried off by some other lesion in the - mean time, this disease ultimately deprives him of life by a - slow and lingering process. The difficulty of breathing becomes - more or less permanent, the expectoration becomes very abundant, - effusions of water take place in the chest, the feet swell, and - the urine is secreted in small quantity; the general health - gradually breaks up, and the patient, after reaching premature - old age, slips into the grave at a comparatively early period, - with perfect willingness on his part, and no surprise on that of - his family and friends.'—_Franks, Evidence_, App. pt. i. p. 412, - 415, Appendix A. - - "John Duncan, aged fifty-nine, hewer, Pencaitland: 'Mining has - caused my breath to be affected, and I am, like many other - colliers, obliged to hang upon my children for existence. The - want of proper ventilation in the pits is the chief cause. No - part requires more looking to than East Lothian; the men die off - like rotten sheep.'—Ibid. No. 150, p. 464, 1. 28. - - "George Hogg, thirty-two years of age, coal-hewer, Pencaitland: - 'Unable to labour much now, as am fashed with bad breath; the air - below is very bad; until lately no ventilation existed.'—Ibid. - No. 153, p. 406, 1. 46. See also Witnesses, Nos. 4, 36, 53, 131, - 152, 155, 175, 275, 277, &c.: 'The confined air and dust in which - they work is apt to render them asthmatic, as well as to unfit - them for labour at an earlier period of life than is the case in - other employments.'—_Tancred, Report_, s. 99, App. pt. i. p. 345. - - "Dr. Adams, Glasgow: 'Amongst colliers, bronchitis or asthma is - very prevalent among the older hands.'—_Tancred, Evidence_, No. - 9; App. pt. i. p. 361, 1. 44. - - "Mr. Peter Williams, surgeon, Holiwell, North Wales: 'The chief - diseases to which they are liable are those of the bronchiæ. - Miners and colliers, by the age of forty, generally become - affected by chronic bronchitis, and commonly before the age of - sixty fall martyrs to the disease. The workmen are, for the most - part, very healthy and hardy, until the symptoms of affections of - the bronchial tubes show themselves.'—_H. H. Jones, Evidence_, - No. 95; App. pt. ii. p. 407, 1. 8. - - "Jeremiah Bradley, underground agent, Plaskynaston: 'The men are - apt to get a tightness of breath, and become unfit for the pits, - even before sixty.'—Ibid. No. 30, p. 383, 1. 8. - - "Amongst colliers in South Wales the diseases most prevalent are - the chronic diseases of the respiratory organs, especially asthma - and bronchitis.'—_Franks, Report_, s. 64; App. pt. ii. p. 484. - - "David Davis, contractor, Gilvachvargoed colliery, - Glamorganshire: 'I am of opinion that miners are sooner disabled - and off work than other mechanics, for they suffer from shortness - of breath long before they are off work. Shortness of breath may - be said to commence from forty to fifty years of age.'—_Franks, - Evidence_, No. 178; App. pt. ii. p. 533, 1. 32. - - "Richard Andrews, overseer, Llancyach, Glamorganshire: - 'The miners about here are very subject to asthmatic - complaints.'—Ibid. No. 152; p. 529, 1. 7. - - "Mr. Frederick Evans, clerk and accountant for the Dowlais - Collieries, Monmouthshire: 'Asthma is a prevalent disease among - colliers.'—_R. W. Jones, Evidence_, No. 121; App. pt. ii. p. - 646, 1. 48. - - "Mr. David Mushet, Forest of Dean: 'The men generally become - asthmatic from fifty to fifty-five years of age.'—_Waring, - Evidence_, No. 37; App. pt. ii. p. 25, 1. 3. - - "'Asthmatic and other bronchial affections are common among the - older colliers and miners.'—_Waring, Report_, s. 72; App. pt. - ii. p. 6. - - "Mr. W. Brice, clerk, Coal Barton and Vobster Collieries, North - Somersetshire: 'The work requires the full vigour of a man, and - they are apt, at this place, to get asthmatical from the gas and - foul air.'—_Stewart, Evidence_, No. 7; App. pt. ii. p. 50, 1. 49. - - "James Beacham, coal-breaker, Writhlington, near Radstock: 'Many - of the miners suffer from "tight breath."'—Ibid. No. 32; p. 56, - 1. 31." - -Of that disease which is peculiar to colliers, called "black spittle," -much evidence is given by many medical witnesses and others:— - - "Mr. Cooper, surgeon, of Bilston, gives the following account - of this malady when it appears in its mildest form: 'Frequently - it occurs that colliers appear at the offices of medical men, - complaining of symptoms of general debility, which appear to - arise from inhalation of certain gases in the mines, (probably an - excess of carbonic.) These patients present a pallid appearance, - are affected with headache, (without febrile symptoms,) and - constriction of the chest; to which may be added dark bronchial - expectoration and deficient appetite. Gentle aperients, mild - stomachics, and rest from labour above ground, restore them in - a week or so, and they are perhaps visited at intervals with a - relapse, if the state of the atmosphere or the ill ventilation of - the mine favour the development of deleterious gas.'—_Mitchell, - Evidence_, No. 3; App. pt. i. p. 62, 1. 48." - -In other districts this disease assumes a much more formidable -character:— - - "Dr. Thompson, of Edinburgh, states that, 'The workmen in coal - mines occasionally die of an affection of the lungs, accompanied - with the expectoration of a large quantity of matter of a deep - black colour, this kind of expectoration continuing long after - they have, from choice or illness, abandoned their subterranean - employment; and the lungs of such persons are found, on - examination after death, to be most deeply impregnated with black - matter. This black deposition may occur to a very considerable - extent in the lungs of workers in coal-mines, without being - accompanied with any black expectoration, or any other phenomena - of active disease, and may come to light only after death has - been occasioned by causes of a different nature, as by external - injuries.'—_Franks_, Appendix A, No. 1; App. pt. i. p. 409. - - "Dr. S. Scott Alison: 'Spurious melanosis, or "black spit" of - colliers, is a disease of pretty frequent occurrence among the - older colliers, and among those men who have been employed - in cutting and blasting stone dykes in the collieries. The - symptoms are emaciation of the whole body, constant shortness - and quickness of breath, occasional stitches in the sides, quick - pulse, usually upward of one hundred in the minute, hacking cough - day and night, attended by a copious expectoration, for the most - part perfectly black, and very much the same as thick blacking in - colour and consistence, but occasionally yellowish and mucous, - or white and frothy; respiration is cavernous in some parts, - and dull in others; a wheezing noise is heard in the bronchial - passages, from the presence of an inordinate quantity of fluid; - the muscles of respiration become very prominent, the neck is - shortened, the chest being drawn up, the nostrils are dilated, - and the countenance is of an anxious aspect. The strength - gradually wasting, the collier, who has hitherto continued at his - employment, finds that he is unable to work six days in the week, - and goes under ground perhaps only two or three days in that - time; in the course of time, he finds an occasional half-day's - employment as much as he can manage, and when only a few weeks' - or months' journey from the grave, ultimately takes a final leave - of his labour. This disease is never cured, and if the unhappy - victim of an unwholesome occupation is not hurried off by some - more acute disease, or by violence, it invariably ends in the - death of the sufferer. Several colliers have died of this disease - under my care.'—Ibid. Appendix A, No. 2; App. pt. i. p. 415, 416. - - "Dr. Makellar, Pencaitland, East Lothian: 'The most serious and - fatal disease which I have been called to treat, connected with - colliers, is a carbonaceous infiltration into the substance of - the lungs. It is a disease which has long been overlooked, on - account of the unwillingness which formerly existed among that - class of people to allow examination of the body after death; but - of late such a prejudice has in a great measure been removed. - From the nature of Pencaitland coal-works, the seams of coal - being thin when compared with other coal-pits, mining operations - are carried on with difficulty, and, in such a situation, there - is a deficiency in the supply of atmospheric gas, thereby causing - difficulty in breathing, and, consequently, the inhalation of - the carbon which the lungs in exhalation throw off, and also - any carbonaceous substance floating in this impure atmosphere. - I consider the pulmonary diseases of coal-miners to be excited - chiefly by two causes, viz. first, by running stone-mines with - the use of gunpowder; and, secondly, coal-mining in an atmosphere - charged with lamp-smoke and the carbon exhaled from the lungs. - All who are engaged at coal-pits here, are either employed - as coal or stone miners; and the peculiar disease to which - both parties are liable varies considerably according to the - employment.'—Ibid. Appendix A, No. 3, p. 422. See also witnesses - Nos. 7, 44, 112, 144, 146. For a full account of this disease, - see reports of Drs. Alison, Makellar, and Reid, in the Appendix - to the sub-commissioner's report for the East of Scotland." - -Dr. Makellar gives the following remarkable evidence as to the efficacy -of ventilation in obviating the production of this disease:— - - "The only effectual remedy for this disease is a free admission - of pure air, and to be so applied as to remove the confined - smoke, both as to stone-mining and coal-mining, and also the - introduction of some other mode of lighting such pits than by - oil. I know many coal-pits where there is no _black-spit_, nor - was it ever known, and, on examination, I find that there is and - ever has been in them a free circulation of air. For example, the - Penstone coal-works, which join Pencaitland, has ever been free - of this disease; but many of the Penstone colliers, on coming - to work at Pencaitland pit, have been seized with, and died of, - this disease. Penstone has always good air, while it is quite the - contrary at Pencaitland.'—Ibid. Appendix A, No. 3; App. pt. i. - p. 422." - -Other diseases, produced by employment in coal-mines, less fatal, but -scarcely less painful, are rheumatism and inflammation of the joints. - -Mr. William Hartell Baylis states that working in the cold and wet -often brings on rheumatism. "More suffer from this than from any other -complaint."[3] Asthma and rheumatism, which are so prevalent in other -districts, are very rare in Warwickshire and Leicestershire.[4] But, in -Derbyshire, "rheumatism is very general. I believe you will scarcely -meet a collier, and ask him what he thinks of the weather, but he will -in reply say, 'Why, his back or shoulders have or have not pained him -as much as usual.'"[5] - -George Tweddell, surgeon, Houghton-le-Spring, South Durham, says, in -answer to the question—Are miners much subject to rheumatism?—"Not -particularly so. Our mines are dry; but there is one mine which is wet, -where the men often complain of rheumatism."[6] - -Similar evidence is given by the medical and other witnesses in all -other districts. Wherever the mines are not properly drained, and are, -therefore, wet and cold, the work-people are invariably afflicted with -rheumatism, and with painful diseases of the glands. - -The sub-commissioner for the Forest of Dean gives the following account -of a painful disease of the joints common in that district:— - - "'The men employed in cutting down the coal are subject to - inflammation of the _bursæ_, both in the knees and elbows, from - the constant pressure and friction on these joints in their - working postures. When the seams are several feet thick, they - begin by kneeling and cutting away the exterior portion of the - base. They proceed undermining till they are obliged to lie down - on their sides, in order to work beneath the mass as far as the - arm can urge the pick, for the purpose of bringing down a good - head of coal. In this last posture the elbow forms a pivot, - resting on the ground, on which the arm of the workman oscillates - as he plies his sharp pick. It is easy to comprehend how this - action, combined with the pressure, should affect the delicate - cellular membrane of this joint, and bring on the disease - indicated. The thin seams of coal are necessarily altogether - worked in a horizontal posture.'—_Waring, Report_, s. 63-66; - App. pt. ii. p. 5, 6. - - "Twenty boys at the Walker Colliery: 'The twenty witnesses, - when examined collectively, say, that the way is so very - dirty, and the pit so warm, that the lads often get tired very - soon.'—_Leifchild, Evidence_, No. 291; App. pt. i. p. 627, 1. - 661. - - "Nineteen boys examined together, of various ages, of whom the - spokesman was William Holt, seventeen years old, putter: 'The - bad air when they were whiles working in the broken, makes them - sick. Has felt weak like in his legs at those times. Was weary - like. Has gone on working, but very slowly. Many a one has had to - come home before having a fair start, from bad air and hard work. - Hours are too long. Would sooner work less hours and get less - money.'—Ibid. No. 300; p. 629, 1. 1. - - "Twenty-three witnesses assembled state: 'That their work is - too hard for them, and they feel sore tired; that some of them - constantly throw up their meat from their stomachs; that their - heads often work, (ache;) the back sometimes; and the legs feel - weak.'—Ibid. No. 354; p. 639, 1. 18. - - "John Wilkinson, aged thirteen, Piercy Main Colliery: 'Was in for - a double shift about five weeks ago, and fell asleep about one - o'clock P.M., as he was going to lift the limmers off to join - the rolleys together, and got himself lamed by the horse turning - about and jamming one of his fingers. Split his finger. Was off - a week from this accident. Sometimes feels sick down in the pit; - felt so once or twice last fortnight. Whiles his head works, - (aches,) and he has pains in his legs, as if they were weak. - Feels pains in his knees. Thinks the work is hard for foals, more - so than for others.'—Ibid. No. 60; p. 579, 1. 22. - - "John Middlemas: 'Sometimes, but very rarely, they work double - shift; that is, they go down at four o'clock A.M. and do not - come up until four o'clock P.M. in the day after that, thus - stopping down thirty-six hours, without coming up, sometimes; and - sometimes they come up for half an hour, and then go down again. - Another worked for twenty-four hours last week, and never came up - at all. Another has stopped down thirty-six hours, without coming - up at all, twice during the last year. When working this double - shift they go to bed directly they come home.'—Ibid. No. 98; p. - 588, 1. 42. - - "Michael Turner, helper-up, aged fourteen and a half, Gosforth - Colliery: 'Mostly he puts up hill the full corves. Many times - the skin is rubbed off his back and off his feet. His head works - (aches) very often, almost every week. His legs work so sometimes - that he can hardly trail them. Is at hard work now, shoving - rolleys and hoisting the crane; the former is the hardest work. - His back works very often, so that he has sometimes to sit down - for half a minute or so.'—Ibid. No. 145; p. 598, 1. 58. - - "George Short, aged nearly sixteen: 'Hoists a crane. His head - works very often, and he feels sickish sometimes, and drowsy - sometimes, especially if he sits down. Has always been drowsy - since he went there. Twice he has worked three shifts following, - of twelve hours each shift; never came up at all during the - thirty-six hours; was sleepy, but had no time to sleep. Has many - times worked double shift of nineteen hours, and he does this now - nearly every pay Friday night. A vast of boys work in this shift, - ten or eleven, or sometimes more. The boys are very tired and - sleepy.'—Ibid. No. 191; p. 606, 1. 41. - - "John Maffin, sixteen years old, putter, Gosforth Colliery: 'Was - strong before he went down pits, but is not so now, from being - overhard wrought, and among bad air.'—Ibid. No. 141; p. 598, 1. - 2. - - "Robert Hall, seventeen years old, half marrow, Felling Colliery: - 'The work of putting makes his arms weak, and his legs work - all the day; makes his back work. Is putting to the dip now - in a heavy place. Each one takes his turn to use the "soams," - (the drawing-straps;) one pulls with them, and the other shoves - behind. Both are equally hard. If it is a very heavy place there - are helpers-up, but not so many as they want. Has known one sore - strained by putting.' - - "John Peel, aged thirteen: 'Is now off from this. Is healthy in - general, but is now and then off from this work.'—Ibid. No. 325; - p. 634, 1. 11. - - "Michael Richardson, fifteen years old, putter, St. Lawrence Main - Colliery: 'About three quarters of a year since he wrought double - shift every other night; or, rather, he worked three times in - eleven days for thirty-six hours at a time, without coming up the - pit. About six months ago he worked three shifts following, of - twelve hours each shift, and never stopped work more than a few - minutes now and then, or came up the pit till he was done. There - was now and then some night-work to do, and the overman asked - him to stop, and he could not say no, or else he (the overman) - would have frowned on him, and stopped him, perhaps, of some - helpers-up. Thinks the hours for lads ought to be shortened, and - does not know whether it would not be better even if their wages - were less.'—Ibid. No. 270; p. 623, 1. 32. - - "James Glass, eighteen years old, putter, Walbottle: 'Puts a tram - by himself. Has no helper-up, and no assistance. Mostly puts a - full tram up. Is putting from a distance now. Mostly the trams - are put up by one person. Was off work the week before last three - days, by being sick. Was then putting in the night shift, and had - to go home and give over. Could not work. His head works nearly - every day. He is always hitting his head against stone roofs. His - arms work very often. Has to stoop a good deal. The weight of his - body lies upon his arms when he is putting. The skin is rubbed - off his back very often.'—Ibid. No. 244; p. 619, 1. 27. - - "Mr. James Anderson, a Home Missionary, residing in Easington - Lane, Hetton-le-Hole, in reply to queries proposed, handed in the - following written evidence: 'The boys go too soon to work: I have - seen boys at work not six years of age, and though their work - is not hard, still they have long hours, so that when they come - home they are quite spent. I have often seen them lying on the - floor, fast asleep. Then they often fall asleep in the pit, and - have been killed. Not long ago a boy fell asleep, lay down on the - way, and the wagons killed him. Another boy was killed; it was - supposed he had fallen asleep when driving his wagon, and fallen - off, and was killed.'—Ibid. No. 446; p. 655, 1. 62." - -The children employed in the mines and collieries are distinguished by -a remarkable muscular development, which, however, is unhealthy, as it -is premature, obtained at the expense of other parts of the body, and -of but short duration. The muscles of the arms and the back become very -large and full. - -With the great muscular development, there is commonly a proportionate -diminution of stature. All classes of witnesses state that colliers, -as a body—children, young persons, and adults—are stunted in growth. -There are only two exceptions to this in Great Britain, namely, -Warwickshire and Leicestershire. It is to be inferred from the -statements of the sub-commissioner for Ireland, that that country -forms a third exception for the United Kingdom. Of the uniformity of -the statements as to the small stature and the stunted growth of the -colliers in all other districts, the following may be regarded as -examples:— - -In Shropshire, the miners, as a body, are of small stature; this is -abundantly obvious even to a casual observer, and there are many -instances of men never exceeding the size of boys.[7] Andrew Blake, M. -D., states of the colliers in Derbyshire, that he has observed that -many of them are not so tall as their neighbours in other employments; -this, in a degree, he considers is owing to their being worked so -young.[8] In the West Riding of Yorkshire, also, there is in stature -an "appreciable difference in colliers' children, manifest at all ages -after they have been three years constantly in the pits; there is -little malformation, but, as Mr. Eliss, a surgeon constantly attending -them, admits, they are somewhat stunted in growth and expanded in -width."[9] - - "Mr. Henry Hemmingway, surgeon, Dewsbury: 'I am quite sure that - the rule is that the children in coal-pits are of a lower stature - than others.'—_Symons, Evidence_, No. 221; App. pt. i. p. 282, - 1. 47. - - "Mr. Thomas Rayner, surgeon, Bristall: 'I account for the - stunted growth from the stooping position, which makes them - grow laterally, and prevents the cartilaginous substances from - expanding.'—Ibid. No. 268, p. 292, 1. 52. - - - "Henry Moorhouse, surgeon, Huddersfield: 'I may state, from my - own personal examination of many of them, that they are much less - in stature, in proportion to their ages, than those working in - mills.'—Ibid. No. 273, p. 293, 1. 49. - - "Mr. Jos. Ellison, Bristall: 'The employment of children - decidedly stunts their growth.'—Ibid. No. 249, p. 288, 1. 8." - -Mr. Symons, in Appendix to p. 212 of his Report, has given in detail -the names, ages, and measurement, both in stature and in girth of -breast, of a great number of farm and of colliery children of both ages -respectively. By taking the first ten collier boys, and the first ten -farm boys, of ages between twelve and fourteen, we find that the former -measured in the aggregate forty-four feet six inches in height, and two -hundred and seventy-four and a half inches around the breast; while -the farm boys measured forty-seven feet in height, and two hundred and -seventy-two inches round the breast. By taking the ten first collier -girls and farm girls, respectively between the ages of fourteen and -seventeen, we find that the ten collier girls measured forty-six feet -four inches in height, and two hundred and ninety-three and a half -inches round the breast; while the ten farm girls measured fifty feet -five inches in height, and two hundred and ninety-seven inches round -the breast; so that in the girls there is a difference in the height of -those employed on farms, compared with those employed in collieries, of -eight and a half per cent. in favour of the former; while between the -colliery and farm boys of a somewhat younger age, and before any long -period had been spent in the collieries, the difference appears to be -five and a half per cent. in favour of the farm children. - -In like manner, of sixty children employed as hurriers in the -neighbourhood of Halifax, at the average ages of ten years and nine -months, Mr. Scriven states that the average measurement in height was -three feet eleven inches and three-tenths, and, in circumference, three -feet two inches; while of fifty-one children of the same age employed -on farms, the measurement in height was four feet three inches, the -circumference being the same in both, namely, two feet three inches. -In like manner, of fifty young persons of the average of fourteen -years and eleven months, the measurement in height was four feet five -inches, and in circumference two feet three inches; while of forty-nine -young persons employed on farms, of the average of fifteen years and -six months, the measurement in height was four feet ten inches and -eight-elevenths, and, in circumference, two feet three inches, being a -difference of nearly six inches in height in favour of the agricultural -labourers. - -In the district of Bradford and Leeds, there is "in stature an -appreciable difference, from about the age at which children begin to -work, between children employed in mines and children of the same age -and station in the neighbourhood not so employed; and this shortness -of stature is generally, though to a less degree, visible in the -adult."[10] - -In Lancashire, the sub-commissioner reports that—"It appeared to him -that the average of the colliers are considerably shorter in stature -than the agricultural labourers."[11] The evidence collected by the -other gentlemen in this district is to the same effect. Mr. Pearson, -surgeon to the dispensary, Wigan, states, with regard to the physical -condition of the children and young persons employed in coal-mining, -as compared with that of children in other employments, that they -are smaller and have a stunted appearance, which he attributes to -their being employed too early in life.[12] And Mr. Richard Ashton, -relieving-officer of the Blackburn district, describes the colliers -as "a low race, and their appearance is rather decrepit."[13] Though -some remarkable exceptions have been seen in the counties of Warwick -and Leicester, the colliers, as a race of men, in some districts, and -in Durham among the rest, are not of large stature.[14] George Canney, -medical practitioner, Bishop Aukland, states, "that they are less in -weight and bulk than the generality of men."[15] - -Of the collier boys of Durham and Northumberland, the sub-commissioner -reports that an inspection of more than a thousand of these boys -convinced him that "as a class, (with many individual exceptions,) -their stature must be considered as diminutive."[16] Mr. Nicholas Wood, -viewer of Killingworth, &c., states "that there is a very general -diminution of stature among pit-men."[17] Mr. Heath, of Newcastle, -surgeon to Killingworth, Gosforth, and Coxlodge collieries, "thinks the -confinement of children for twelve hours in a pit is not consistent -with ordinary health; the stature is rather diminished, and there is an -absence of colour; they are shortened in stature."[18] And J. Brown, -M. D., Sunderland, states "that they are generally stunted in stature, -thin and swarthy."[19] - -Of the collier population in Cumberland, it is stated that "they are -in appearance quite as stunted in growth, and present much the same -physical phenomena as those of Yorkshire, comparing, of course, those -following similar branches of the work."[20] Thomas Mitchell, surgeon, -Whitehaven, says, "their stature is partly decreased."[21] - -Of the deteriorated physical condition of the collier population in -the East of Scotland, as shown, among other indications, by diminished -stature, Dr. S. Scott Alison states that "many of the infants in a -collier community are thin, skinny, and wasted, and indicate, by their -contracted features and sickly, dirty-white or faint-yellowish aspect, -their early participation in a deteriorated physical condition. From -the age of infancy up to the seventh or eighth year, much sickliness -and general imperfection of physical development is observable. The -physical condition of the boys and girls engaged in the collieries is -much inferior to that of children of the same age engaged in farming -operations, in most other trades, or who remain at home unemployed. -The children are, upon the whole, prejudicially affected to a material -extent in their growth and development. Many of them are short for -their years."[22] - -In South Wales, "the testimony of medical gentlemen, and of managers -and overseers of various works, in which large numbers of children -as well as adults are employed, proves that the physical health and -strength of children and young persons is deteriorated by their -employment at the early ages and in the works before enumerated."[23] -Mr. Jonathan Isaacs, agent of the Top Hill colliery:—"I have noticed -that the children of miners, who are sent to work, do not grow as they -ought to do; they get pale in their looks, are weak in their limbs, -and any one can distinguish a collier's child from the children of -other working people."[24] Mr. P. Kirkhouse, oversman to the Cyfarthfa -collieries and ironstone mines, on this point observes—"The infantine -ages at which children are employed cranks (stunts) their growth, and -injures their constitution."[25] John Russell, surgeon to the Dowlais -Iron Works:—"In stature, I believe a difference to exist in the male -youth from twelve to sixteen, employed in the mines and collieries, -compared with those engaged in other works, the former being somewhat -stunted; and this difference (under some form or other) seems still -perceptible in the adult miners and colliers."[26] - -A crippled gait, often connected with positive deformity, is one of the -frequent results of slaving in the mines. - -In Derbyshire, the children who have worked in the collieries from a -very early age are stated to be bow-legged.[27] - -In the West Riding of Yorkshire, "after they are turned forty-five or -fifty, they walk home from their work almost like cripples; stiffly -stalking along, often leaning on sticks, bearing the visible evidences -in their frame and gait of overstrained muscles and over-taxed -strength. Where the lowness of the gates induces a very bent posture, -I have observed an inward curvature of the spine; and chicken-breasted -children are very common among those who work in low, thin -coal-mines."[28] Mr. Uriah Bradbury, surgeon, Mirfield:—"Their knees -never stand straight, like other people's."[29] Mr. Henry Hemmingway, -surgeon, Dewsbury:—"May be distinguished among crowds of people, by -the bending of the spinal column."[30] Mr. William Sharp, surgeon, -Bradford:—"There are occasionally cases of deformity."[31] - -In Lancashire district, John Bagley, about thirty-nine years of age, -collier, Mrs. Lancaster's, Patricroft, states, that "the women drawing -in the pits are generally crooked. Can tell any woman who has been -in the pits. They are rarely, if ever, so straight as other women -who stop above ground."[32] Mr. William Gaulter, surgeon, of Over -Darwen, says—"Has practised as a surgeon twenty-four years in this -neighbourhood. Those who work in collieries at an early age, when -they arrive at maturity are not generally so robust as those who work -elsewhere. They are frequently crooked, (not distorted,) bow-legged, -and stooping."[33] Betty Duxberry, whose children work in the pits, -asserts that "colliers are all crooked and short-legged, not like other -men who work above ground; but they were always colliers, and always -will be. This young boy turns his feet out and his knees together; -drawing puts them out of shape."[34] - -Evidence collected in Durham and Northumberland, shows that the -underground labour produces similar effects in that district. - -Mr. Nicholas Wood, viewer of Killingworth, Hetton, and other -collieries:—"The children are perhaps a little ill-formed, and the -majority of them pale, and not robust. Men working in low seams are -bent double and bow-legged very often."[35] J. Brown, M. D. and J. P., -Sunderland:—"They labour more frequently than other classes of the -community under deformity of the lower limbs, especially that variety -of it described as being 'in-kneed.' This I should ascribe to yielding -of the ligaments, owing to long standing in the mines in a constrained -and awkward position."[36] Mr. Thomas Greenshaw, surgeon, Walker -colliery:—"Their persons are apt to be somewhat curved and cramped. As -they advance in life, their knees and back frequently exhibit a curved -appearance, from constant bending at their work."[37] Mr. W. Morrison, -surgeon of Pelaw House, Chester le street, Countess of Durham's -collieries:—"The 'outward man' distinguishes a pit-man from any other -operative. His stature is diminished, his figure disproportionate -and misshapen; his legs being much bowed; his chest protruding, (the -thoracic region being unequally developed.) His countenance is not less -striking than his figure—his cheeks being generally hollow, his brow -over-hanging, his cheek-bones high, his forehead low and retreating. -Nor is his appearance healthful—his habit is tainted with scrofula. -I have seen agricultural labourers, blacksmiths, carpenters, and even -those among the wan and distressed-looking weavers of Nottinghamshire, -to whom the term 'jolly' might not be inaptly applied; but I never saw -a 'jolly-looking' pit-man. As the germ of this physical degeneration -may be formed in the youthful days of the pit-man, it is desirable to -look for its cause."[38] - -Ruptures, rheumatism, diseases of the heart and of other organs, the -results of over-exertion in unhealthy places, are common among the -persons employed in the mines, as many intelligent persons testified -before the commissioners. - -An employment often pursued under circumstances which bring with -them so many and such formidable diseases, must prematurely exhaust -the strength of ordinary constitutions; and the evidence collected -in almost all the districts proves that too often the collier is a -disabled man, with the marks of old age upon him, while other men have -scarcely passed beyond their prime. - -The evidence shows that in South Staffordshire and Shropshire, many -colliers are incapable of following their occupation after they are -forty years of age; others continue their work up to fifty, which is -stated by several witnesses to be about the general average. Mr. Marcy, -clerk to the Wellington Union, Salop, states, that "at about forty the -greater part of the colliers may be considered as disabled, and regular -old men—as much as some are at eighty."[39] - -Even in Warwickshire and Leicestershire, in which their physical -condition is better than in any other districts, Mr. Michael Parker, -ground bailiff of the Smithson collieries, states that "some of the -men are knocked up at forty-five and fifty, and that fifty may be the -average; which early exhaustion of the physical strength he attributes -to the severe labour and bad air."[40] Mr. Dalby, surgeon of the Union -of Ashby-de-la-Zouch, says—"The work in the pit is very laborious, -and some are unable for it as early as fifty, others at forty-five, -and some at sixty; I should say the greater part at forty-five."[41] -And Mr. Davenport, clerk of the Union of Ashby-de-la-Zouch, gives a -higher average, and says that "a collier may wear from sixty-five -to seventy, while an agricultural labourer may wear from seventy to -seventy-five."[42] - -Of Derbyshire the sub-commissioner reports—"I have not perceived that -look of premature old age so general amongst colliers, _until they are -forty years of age_, excepting in the loaders, who evidently appear -so at _twenty-eight or thirty_, and this I think must arise from the -hardness of their labour, in having such great weights to lift, and -breathing a worse atmosphere than any other in the pit."[43] Phoebe -Gilbert states—"The loaders are, as the saying is, 'old men before -they are young ones.'"[44] Dr. Blake says—"He has also noticed that -when a collier has worked from a child, and becomes forty, he looks -much older than those of the same age above ground."[45] - -In Yorkshire "the collier of fifty is usually an aged man; he looks -overstrained and stiffened by labour."[46] "But whilst both the -child and the adult miner appear to enjoy excellent health, and to -be remarkably free from disease, it nevertheless appears that their -labour, at least that of the adult miner, is, in its general result, -and in the extent to which it is pursued, of a character more severe -than the constitution is properly able to bear. It is rare that a -collier is able to follow his calling beyond the age of from forty to -fifty, and then, unless he be fortunate enough to obtain some easier -occupation, he sinks into a state of helpless dependence. Better -habits with regard to temperance might diminish, but would not remove, -this evil; and the existence of this fact, in despite of the general -healthiness of the collier population, gives rise to the question -whether, apart from all considerations of mental and moral improvement, -a fatal mistake is not committed in employing children of tender -years to the extent that their strength will bear, instead of giving -opportunity, by short hours of labour, for the fuller and more perfect -physical development which would better fit them to go through the -severe labour of their after-life."[47] - -In the coal-fields of North Durham and Northumberland, Dr. Elliott -states "that premature old age in appearance is common; men of -thirty-five or forty years may often be taken for ten years older than -they really are."[48] Mr. Thomas Greenhow, surgeon, Walker Colliery, -North Durham, says "they have an aged aspect somewhat early in -life."[49] Of the effect of employment in the coal-mines of the East -of Scotland, in producing an early and irreparable deterioration of -the physical condition, the sub-commissioner thus reports: "In a state -of society such as has been described, the condition of the children -may be easily imagined, and its baneful influence on the health cannot -well be exaggerated; and I am informed by very competent authorities, -that six months labour in the mines is sufficient to effect a very -visible change in the physical condition of the children; and indeed -it is scarcely possible to conceive of circumstances more calculated -to sow the seeds of future disease, and, to borrow the language of -the Instructions, to prevent the organs from being fully developed, -to enfeeble and disorder their functions, and to subject the whole -system to injury which cannot be repaired at any subsequent stage of -life."[50] In the West of Scotland, Dr. Thompson, Ayr, says—"A collier -at fifty generally has the appearance of a man ten years older than he -is."[51] - -The sub-committee for North Wales reports—"They fail in health and -strength early in life. At thirty a miner begins to look wan and -emaciated, and so does a collier at forty; while the farming labourer -continues robust and hearty."[52] John Jones, relieving officer for -the Holywell district, states—"Though the children and young persons -employed in these works are healthy, still it is observable that they -soon get to look old, and they often become asthmatic before they are -forty."[53] - -In the Forest of Dean, Mr. Thomas Marsh, surgeon, states that "colliers -usually become old men at fifty to fifty-five years of age."[54] In -North Somersetshire, William Brice, clerk and manager, says "there are -very few at work who are above fifty years of age."[55] - -Early death is the natural consequence of the premature decrepitude -thus described to those whom ever-imminent casualities have not -brought to the grave during the years of their vigour. The medical -evidence shows that even in South Staffordshire and Shropshire, -comparatively few miners attain their fifty-first year. In Warwickshire -and Leicestershire it is not uncommon for the men to follow their -occupation ten years longer; but all classes of witnesses in the other -districts uniformly state that it is rare to see an old collier. - -In Derbyshire, William Wardle "does not think colliers live as long as -those above ground; very few live to be sixty."[56] - -In Yorkshire, "colliers have harder work than any other class of -workmen, and the length of time they work, as well as the intense -exertion they undergo, added to the frequent unhealthiness of -the atmosphere, decidedly tend to shorten their lives."[57] Mr. -Henry Hemmingway, surgeon, Dewsbury, states—"I only knew one old -collier."[58] Mr. Thomas Rayner, surgeon, Bristall, says—"I have had -twenty-seven years' practice, and I know of no old colliers—their -extreme term of life is from fifty-six to sixty years of age."[59] In -Lancashire, states Mr. Kennedy, "it appeared to me that the number of -aged men was much smaller than in other occupations."[60] - -After stating that the colliers of South Durham are a strong and -healthy race, Dr. Mitchell adds—"The work, however, is laborious and -exhausting; and the colliers, though healthy, are not long-lived."[61] -John Wetherell Hays, clerk of the Union, Durham, states, "that the -colliers are not long-lived; that they live well, and live fast."[62] -And George Canney, medical practitioner, Bishop Auckland, says "they -are generally short-lived."[63] - -The sub-commissioner for the East of Scotland reports, that after a -careful consideration of all the sources of information which could -assist him in the object of his inquiry, he arrives at the following -conclusion:—"That the labour in the coal-mines in the Lothian and -River Forth districts of Scotland is most severe, and that its severity -is in many cases increased by the want of proper attention to the -economy of mining operations; whence those operations, as at present -carried on, are extremely unwholesome, and productive of diseases which -have a manifest tendency to shorten life."[64] Mr. Walter Jarvie, -manager to Mr. Cadell, of Banton, states that "in the small village -of Banton there are nearly forty widows; and as the children work -always on parents' behalf, it prevents them having recourse to the -kirk-session for relief."[65] Elsper Thompson says, "Most of the men -begin to complain at thirty to thirty-five years of age, and drop off -before they get the length of forty."[66] Henry Naysmith, sixty-five -years of age, collier, who says he has wrought upward of fifty years, -adds that "he has been off work nearly ten years, and is much afflicted -with shortness of breath: it is the bane of the colliers, and few men -live to my age."[67] - -In North Wales, it is said that "few colliers come to the age of sixty, -and but still fewer miners. This I believe to be the fact, though I met -with many, both miners and colliers, who had attained the age of sixty; -yet they were few compared with the number _employed_ in these branches -of industry."[68] Mr. John Jones, relieving-officer for the Holywell -district, "thinks they are not as long-lived as agriculturists."[69] -James Jones, overman, Cyfarthfa Works, states "that the colliers are -generally very healthy and strong up to the age of forty or fifty; they -then often have a difficulty of breathing, and they die at younger ages -than agricultural labourers or handicraftsmen."[70] Mr. John Hughes, -assistant underground agent, says "they do not appear to live long -after fifty or sixty years old."[71] - -In South Wales, the sub-commissioner reports that he "has not been able -to ascertain, for want of sufficient data, the average duration of a -collier's life in the counties either of Glamorgan or Monmouth, but it -is admitted that such average duration is less than that of a common -labourer. In the county of Pembroke, however, Mr. James Bowen, surgeon, -Narbeth, in that county, informs me—"The average life of a collier is -about forty; they rarely attain forty-five years of age; and in the -entire population of Begelly and East Williamson, being 1163, forming, -strictly speaking, a mining population, there are not six colliers of -sixty years of age." - -The Rev. Richard Buckby, rector of Begelly, in answer to one of the -queries in the Educational Paper of the Central Board, writes—"The -foul air of the mines seriously affects the lungs of the children and -young persons employed therein, and shortens the term of life. In a -population of one thousand, there are not six colliers sixty years of -age." - -There are certain minor evils connected with employment in the worst -class of coal-mines, which, though not perhaps very serious, are -nevertheless sources of much suffering, such as irritation of the -head, feet, back, and skin, together with occasional strains. "The -upper parts of their head are always denuded of hair; their scalps are -also thickened and inflamed, sometimes taking on the appearance _tinea -capitis_, from the pressure and friction which they undergo in the act -of pushing the corves forward, although they are mostly defended by a -padded cap."[72] "It is no uncommon thing to see the hurriers bald, -owing to pushing the corves up steep board gates, with their heads."[73] - -Mr. Alexander Muir, surgeon: "Are there any peculiar diseases to which -colliers are subject? No, excepting that the hurriers are occasionally -affected by a formation of matter upon the forehead, in consequence of -pushing the wagons with their head. To what extent is such formation of -matter injurious to the general health? It produces considerable local -irritation. When the matter is allowed to escape, it heals as perfectly -as before. Do you conceive this use of the head to be a necessary or -unnecessary part of their occupation? I should think it not necessary. -Does it arise from any deficiency of strength, the head being used -to supply the place of the arms? I should think it does."[74] David -Swallow, collier, East Moor: "The hair is very often worn off bald, -and the part is swollen so that sometimes it is like a bulb filled -with spongy matter; so very bad after they have done their day's work -that they cannot bear it touching."[75] William Holt: "Some thrutched -with their heads, because they cannot thrutch enough with their hands -alone. Thrutching with their heads makes a gathering in the head, and -makes them very ill."[76] - -In running continually over uneven ground, without shoes or stockings, -particles of dirt, coal, and stone get between the toes, and are -prolific sources of irritation and lameness, of which they often -complain; the skin covering the balls of the toes and heels becomes -thickened and horny, occasioning a good deal of pain and pustular -gathering."[77] James Mitchell: "I have hurt my feet often; sometimes -the coals cut them, and they run matter, and the corves run over them -when I stand agate; I an't not always aware of their coming."[78] -Selina Ambler: "I many times hurt my feet and legs with the coals and -scale in gate; sometimes we run corve over them; my feet have many a -time been blooded."[79] Mrs. Carr: "Has known many foals laid off with -sore backs, especially last year and the year before, when the putting -was said to be very heavy in the Flatworth pit. Some foals had to lay -off a day or two, to get their backs healed, before they could go to -work again."[80] William Jakes: "His back is often skinned; is now sore -and all red, from holding on or back against the corf."[81] George -Faction: "In some places he bends quite double, and rubs his back so as -to bring the skin off, and whiles to make it bleed, and whiles he is -off work from these things."[82] Mr. James Probert, surgeon: "Chronic -pain in the back is a very common complaint among colliers, arising -from overstrained tendonous muscles, and it is the source of much -discomfort to the colliers."[83] Mr. William Dodd, surgeon: "As to the -'boils,' when a fresh man comes to the colliery he generally becomes -affected by these 'boils,' most probably from the heat in the first -instance, and subsequently they are aggravated by the salt water."[84] -James Johnson: "Sometimes when among the salt water, the heat, etc., -brings out boils about the size of a hen's egg upon him, about his legs -and thighs, and under his arms sometimes. A vast of boys, men, and all, -have these boils at times. These boils perhaps last a fortnight before -they get ripe, and then they burst. A great white thing follows, and is -called a 'tanner'."[85] Dr. Adams, Glasgow: "An eruption on the skin -is very prevalent among colliers."[86] William Mackenzie: "Had about -twenty boils on his back at one time, about two years since. These -lasted about three months. He was kept off work about a week. If he -touched them against any thing they were like death to him. But few of -the boys have so many at a time; many of the boys get two or three at a -time. The boys take physic to bring them all out; then they get rid of -them for some time. If the salt water falls on any part of them that is -scotched, it burns into the flesh like; it is like red rust. It almost -blinds the boys if it gets into their eyes."[87] - -Accidents of a fatal nature are of frightful frequency in the mines. -In one year there were three hundred and forty-nine deaths by violence -in the coal-mines of England alone. Of the persons thus killed, -fifty-eight were under thirteen years of age; sixty-two under eighteen, -and the remainder over eighteen. One of the most frequent causes of -accidents is the want of superintendence to see the security of the -machinery for letting down and bringing up the work-people, and the -restriction of the number of persons who ascend or descend at the same -time. The commissioners observed at Elland two hurriers, named Ann -Ambler and William Dyson, cross-lapped upon a clutch-iron, drawn up by -a woman. As soon as they arrived at the top the handle was made fast by -a bolt. The woman then grasped a hand of both at the same time, and by -main force brought them to land. - -From all the evidence adduced, the commissioners came to the following -conclusions:— - - "In regard to coal-mines— - - "That instances occur in which children are taken into these - mines to work as early as four years of age, sometimes at five, - and between five and six; not unfrequently between six and seven, - and often from seven to eight; while from eight to nine is the - ordinary age at which employment in these mines commences. - - "That a very large proportion of the persons employed in carrying - on the work of these mines is under thirteen years of age; and a - still larger proportion between thirteen and eighteen. - - "That in several districts female children begin to work in these - mines at the same early ages as the males. - - "That the great body of the children and young persons employed - in these mines are of the families of the adult work-people - engaged in the pits, or belong to the poorest population in the - neighbourhood, and are hired and paid in some districts by the - work-people, but in others by the proprietors or contractors. - - "That there are in some districts, also, a small number of - parish apprentices, who are bound to serve their masters until - twenty-one years of age, in an employment in which there is - nothing deserving the name of skill to be acquired, under - circumstances of frequent ill-treatment, and under the oppressive - condition that they shall receive only food and clothing, while - their free companions may be obtaining a man's wages. - - "That, in many instances, much that skill and capital can effect - to render the place of work unoppressive and healthy and safe, - is done, often with complete success, as far as regards the - healthfulness and comfort of the mines; but that to render them - perfectly safe does not appear to be practicable by any means yet - known; while, in great numbers of instances, their condition in - regard both to ventilation and drainage is lamentably defective. - - "That the nature of the employment which is assigned to the - youngest children—generally that of 'trapping'—requires - that they should be in the pit as soon as the work of the day - commences, and, according to the present system, that they should - not leave the pit before the work of the day is at an end. - - "That although this employment scarcely deserves the name of - labour, yet, as the children engaged in it are commonly excluded - from light, and are always without companions, it would, were it - not for the passing and repassing of the coal-carriages, amount - to solitary confinement of the worst sort. - - "That in those districts where the seams of coal are so thick - that horses go direct to the workings, or in which the side - passages from the workings to the horseways are not of any great - length, the lights in the main way render the situation of the - children comparatively less cheerless, dull, and stupefying; but - that in some districts they are in solitude and darkness during - the whole time they are in the pit; and, according to their - own account, many of them never see the light of day for weeks - together during the greater part of the winter season, except - on those days in the week when work is not going on, and on the - Sundays. - - "That, at different ages from six years old and upward, the hard - work of pushing and dragging the carriages of coal from the - workings to the main ways, or to the foot of the shaft, begins; a - labour which all classes of witnesses concur in stating requires - the unremitting exertion of all the physical power which the - young workers possess. - - "That, in the districts in which females are taken down into the - coal-mines, both sexes are employed together in precisely the - same kind of labour, and work for the same number of hours; that - the girls and boys, and the young men and young women, and even - married women and women with child, commonly work almost naked, - and the men, in many mines, quite naked; and that all classes of - witnesses bear testimony to the demoralizing influence of the - employment of females under ground. - - "That, in the East of Scotland, a much larger proportion of - children and young persons are employed in these mines than in - any other districts, many of whom are girls; and that the chief - part of their labour consists in carrying the coal on their backs - up steep ladders. - - "That, when the work-people are in full employment, the regular - hours of work for children and young persons are rarely less than - eleven, more often they are twelve; in some districts they are - thirteen, and in one district they are generally fourteen and - upward. - - "That, in the great majority of these mines, night-work is a - part of the ordinary system of labour, more or less regularly - carried on according to the demand for coals, and one which the - whole body of evidence shows to act most injuriously both on - the physical and moral condition of the work-people, and more - especially on that of the children and young persons. - - "That the labour performed daily for this number of hours, though - it cannot strictly be said to be continuous, because, from the - nature of the employment, intervals of a few minutes necessarily - occur during which the muscles are not in active exertion, is, - nevertheless, generally uninterrupted by any regular time set - apart for rest or refreshment; what food is taken in the pit - being eaten as best it may while the labour continues. - - "That in all well-regulated mines, in which in general the hours - of work are the shortest, and in some few of which from half an - hour to an hour is regularly set apart for meals, little or no - fatigue is complained of after an ordinary day's work, when the - children are ten years old and upward; but in other instances - great complaint is made of the feeling of fatigue, and the - work-people are never without this feeling, often in an extremely - painful degree. - - "That in many cases the children and young persons have little - cause of complaint in regard to the treatment they receive from - the persons of authority in the mine, or from the colliers; but - that in general the younger children are roughly used by their - older companions, while in many mines the conduct of the adult - colliers to the children and adult persons who assist them - is harsh and cruel; the persons in authority in these mines, - who must be cognizant of this ill-usage, never interfering to - prevent it, and some of them distinctly stating that they do not - conceive that they have any right to do so. - - "That, with some exceptions, little interest is taken by the - coal-owners in the children or young persons employed in their - works after the daily labour is over; at least, little is done - to afford them the means of enjoying innocent amusement and - healthful recreation. - - "That in all the coal fields accidents of a fearful nature are - extremely frequent; and that the returns made to our own queries, - as well as the registry tables, prove that, of the work-people - who perish by such accidents, the proportion of children and - young persons sometimes equals and rarely falls much below that - of adults. - - "That one of the most frequent causes of accidents in these mines - is the want of superintendence by overlookers or otherwise, - to see to the security of the machinery for letting down and - bringing up the work-people, the restriction of the number of - persons that ascend and descend at a time, the state of the - mine as to the quantity of noxious gas in it, the efficiency of - the ventilation, the exactness with which the air-door keepers - perform their duty, the places into which it is safe or unsafe to - go with a naked lighted candle, the security of the proppings to - uphold the roof, &c. - - "That another frequent cause of fatal accidents is the almost - universal practice of intrusting the closing of the air-doors to - very young children. - - "That there are many mines in which the most ordinary precautions - to guard against accidents are neglected, and in which no money - appears to be expended with a view to secure the safety, much - less the comfort, of the work-people. - - "There are, moreover, two practices, peculiar to a few districts, - which deserve the highest reprobation, namely,—first, the - practice, not unknown in some of the smaller mines in Yorkshire, - and common in Lancashire, in employing ropes that are unsafe - for letting down and drawing up the work-people; and second, - the practice occasionally met with in Yorkshire, and common in - Derbyshire and Lancashire, of employing boys at the steam-engines - for letting down and drawing up the work-people."—_First Report, - Conclusions_, p. 255-257. - -Well, what did the British Government do when the heart-rending report -of the commissioners was received? It felt the necessity of a show of -legislative interference. Lord Ashley introduced a bill into the House -of Commons, having for its object the amelioration of the condition -of the mining women and children. Much discussion occurred. The bill -passed the House of Commons, and was taken to the House of Lords, the -high court of British oppression. Some lords advocated the measure, -whereupon Lord Londonderry and some others spoke of them as "bitten -with a humanity mania." Modifications were made in the bill to suit -the pockets of the luxurious proprietors, and then it was grumblingly -adopted. What did the bill provide? That no child under _ten_ years of -age, and no woman or girl, of any age, should be allowed to work in a -mine. Now, children may be ten years of age, and above that, and yet -they are still tender little creatures. The majority of the sufferers -who came to the notice of the commissioners were above ten years of -age! In that point, at least, the bill was worse than a nullity—it was -a base deceit, pouring balm, but not upon the wound! - -The same bill provided that no females should be allowed to work in -the mines. But then the females were driven to the mines by the dread -of starvation. Soon after the passage of the bill, petitions from the -mining districts were sent to Parliament, praying that females might be -allowed to work in the mines. The petitioners had no means of getting -bread. If they had, they would never have been in the mines at all. -The horrors of labour in the mines were consequences of the general -slavery. Well, there were many proprietors of mines in Parliament, and -their influence was sufficient to nullify the law in practice. There is -good authority for believing that the disgusting slavery of the British -mines has been ameliorated only to a very limited extent. - - - - -CHAPTER III. - -SLAVERY IN THE BRITISH FACTORIES. - - -Great Britain has long gloried in the variety and importance of her -manufactures. Burke spoke of Birmingham as the toyshop of Europe; and, -at this day, the looms of Manchester and the other factory towns of -England furnish the dry-goods of a large portion of the world. Viewed -at a distance, this wonder-working industry excites astonishment and -admiration; but a closer inspection will show us such corrupt and -gloomy features in this vast manufacturing system as will turn a -portion of admiration into shrinking disgust. Giving the meed of praise -to the perfection of machinery and the excellence of the fabrics, what -shall we say of the human operatives? For glory purchased at the price -of blood and souls is a vanity indeed. Let us see! - -The number of persons employed in the cotton, wool, silk, and flax -manufactures of Great Britain is estimated at about two millions. Mr. -Baines states that about one and a half million are employed in the -cotton manufactures alone. The whole number employed in the production -of all sorts of iron, hardware, and cutlery articles is estimated -at 350,000. In the manufacture of jewelry, earthen and glass ware, -paper, woollen stuffs, distilled and fermented liquors, and in the -common trades of tailoring, shoemaking, carpentering, &c., the numbers -employed are very great, though not accurately known. We think the -facts will bear us out in stating that this vast body of operatives -suffer more of the real miseries of slavery than any similar class upon -the face of the earth. - -In the first place, admitting that wages are as high in Great Britain -as in any continental country, the enormous expenses of the church and -aristocracy produce a taxation which eats up so large a portion of -these wages, that there is not enough left to enable the workman to -live decently and comfortably. But the wages are, in general, brought -very low by excessive competition; and, in consequence, the operative -must stretch his hours of toil far beyond all healthy limits to earn -enough to pay taxes and support himself. It is the struggle of drowning -men, and what wonder if many sink beneath the gloomy waves? - -When C. Edwards Lester, an author of reputation, was in England, he -visited Manchester, and, making inquiries of an operative, obtained the -following reply:— - - "I have a wife and nine children, and a pretty hard time we have - too, we are so many; and most of the children are so small, they - can do little for the support of the family. I generally get from - two shillings to a crown a day for carrying luggage; and some of - my children are in the mills; and the rest are too young to work - yet. My wife is never well, and it comes pretty hard on her to do - the work of the whole family. We often talk these things over, - and feel pretty sad. We live in a poor house; we can't clothe - our children comfortably; not one of them ever went to school: - they could go to the Sunday-school, but we can't make them look - decent enough to go to such a place. As for meat, we never taste - it; potatoes and coarse bread are our principal food. We can't - save any thing for a day of want; almost every thing we get for - our work seems to go for taxes. We are taxed for something almost - every week in the year. We have no time to ourselves when we are - free from work. It seems that our life is all toil; I sometimes - almost give up. Life isn't worth much to a poor man in England; - and sometimes Mary and I, when we talk about it, pretty much - conclude that we all should be better off if we were dead. I have - gone home at night a great many times, and told my wife when she - said supper was ready, that I had taken a bite at a chophouse - on the way, and was not hungry—she and the children could eat - my share. Yes, I have said this a great many times when I felt - pretty hungry myself. I sometimes wonder that God suffers so many - poor people to come into the world." - -And this is, comparatively, a mild case. Instances of hard-working -families living in dark, damp cellars, and having the coarsest food, -are common in Manchester, Birmingham, and other manufacturing towns. - -Mrs. Gaskell, in her thrilling novel, "Mary Barton, a Tale of -Manchester Life," depicts without exaggeration the sufferings of the -operatives and their families when work is a little slack, or when, -by accident, they are thrown out of employment for a short period. -A large factory, belonging to a Mr. Carson, had been destroyed by -fire, and about the same time, as trade was had, some mills shortened -hours, turned off hands, and finally stopped work altogether. Almost -inconceivable misery followed among the unemployed workmen. In the -best of times they fared hardly; now they were forced to live in damp -and filthy cellars, and many perished, either from starvation or from -fevers bred in their horrible residences. One cold evening John Barton -received a hurried visit from a fellow-operative, named George Wilson. - - "'You've not got a bit o' money by you, Barton?' asked he. - - "'Not I; who has now, I'd like to know? Whatten you want it for?' - - "'I donnot want it for mysel, tho' we've none to spare. But don - ye know Ben Davenport as worked at Carson's? He's down wi' the - fever, and ne'er a stick o' fire, nor a cowd potato in the house.' - - "'I han got no money, I tell ye,' said Barton. Wilson looked - disappointed. Barton tried not to be interested, but he could - not help it in spite of his gruffness. He rose, and went to the - cupboard, (his wife's pride long ago.) There lay the remains - of his dinner, hastily put there ready for supper. Bread, and - a slice of cold, fat, boiled bacon. He wrapped them in his - handkerchief, put them in the crown of his hat, and said—'Come, - let's be going.' - - "'Going—art thou going to work this time o' day?' - - "'No, stupid, to be sure not. Going to see the fellow thou - spoke on.' So they put on their hats and set out. On the way - Wilson said Davenport was a good fellow, though too much of - the Methodee; that his children were too young to work, but - not too young to be cold and hungry; that they had sunk lower - and lower, and pawned thing after thing, and that now they - lived in in a cellar in Berry-street, off Store-street. Barton - growled inarticulate words of no benevolent import to a large - class of mankind, and so they went along till they arrived in - Berry-street. It was unpaved; and down the middle a gutter - forced its way, every now and then forming pools in the holes - with which the street abounded. Never was the Old Edinburgh - cry of 'Gardez l'eau,' more necessary than in this street. As - they passed, women from their doors tossed household slops of - _every_ description into the gutter; they ran into the next - pool, which overflowed and stagnated. Heaps of ashes were the - stepping-stones, on which the passer-by, who cared in the least - for cleanliness, took care not to put his foot. Our friends were - not dainty, but even they picked their way till they got to some - steps leading down into a small area, where a person standing - would have his head about one foot below the level of the street, - and might, at the same time, without the least motion of his - body, touch the window of the cellar and the damp, muddy wall - right opposite. You went down one step even from the foul area - into the cellar, in which a family of human beings lived. It was - very dark inside. The window panes were many of them broken and - stuffed with rags, which was reason enough for the dusky light - that pervaded the place even at mid-day. After the account I have - given of the state of the street, no one can be surprised that, - on going into the cellar inhabited by Davenport, the smell was - so fetid as almost to knock the two men down. Quickly recovering - themselves, as those inured to such things do, they began to - penetrate the thick darkness of the place, and to see three or - four little children rolling on the damp, nay, wet, brick floor, - through which the stagnant, filthy moisture of the street oozed - up; the fireplace was empty and black; the wife sat on her - husband's lair, and cried in the dank loneliness. - - "'See, missis, I'm back again. Hold your noise, children, and - don't mither (trouble) your mammy for bread, here's a chap as has - got some for you.' - - "In that dim light, which was darkness to strangers, they - clustered round Barton, and tore from him the food he had brought - with him. It was a large hunch of bread, but it had vanished in - an instant. - - "'We maun do summut for 'em,' said he to Wilson. 'Yo stop here, - and I'll be back in half an hour.' - - "So he strode, and ran, and hurried home. He emptied into the - ever-useful pocket-handkerchief the little meal remaining in the - mug. Mary would have her tea at Miss Simmonds'; her food for - the day was safe. Then he went up-stairs for his better coat, - and his one, gay, red and yellow silk pocket-handkerchief—his - jewels, his plate, his valuables these were. He went to the - pawn-shop; he pawned them for five shillings; he stopped not, - nor stayed, till he was once more in London Road, within five - minutes' walk of Berry-street—then he loitered in his gait, in - order to discover the shops he wanted. He bought meat, and a - loaf of bread, candles, chips, and from a little retail yard he - purchased a couple of hundredweights of coals. Some money yet - remained—all destined for them, but he did not yet know how best - to spend it. Food, light, and warmth, he had instantly seen, were - necessary; for luxuries he would wait. Wilson's eyes filled with - tears when he saw Barton enter with his purchases. He understood - it all, and longed to be once more in work, that he might help in - some of these material ways, without feeling that he was using - his son's money. But though 'silver and gold he had none,' he - gave heart-service and love-works of far more value. Nor was - John Barton behind in these. 'The fever' was (as it usually is - in Manchester) of a low, putrid, typhoid kind; brought on by - miserable living, filthy neighbourhood, and great depression of - mind and body. It is virulent, malignant, and highly infectious. - But the poor are fatalists with regard to infection; and well for - them it is so, for in their crowded dwellings no invalid can be - isolated. Wilson asked Barton if he thought he should catch it, - and was laughed at for his idea. - - "The two men, rough, tender nurses as they were, lighted the - fire, which smoked and puffed into the room as if it did not - know the way up the damp, unused chimney. The very smoke seemed - purifying and healthy in the thick clammy air. The children - clamoured again for bread; but this time Barton took a piece - first to the poor, helpless, hopeless woman, who still sat by - the side of her husband, listening to his anxious, miserable - mutterings. She took the bread, when it was put into her hand, - and broke a bit, but could not eat. She was past hunger. She fell - down on the floor with a heavy, unresisting bang. The men looked - puzzled. 'She's wellnigh clemmed, (_starved_,)' said Barton. - 'Folk do say one musn't give clemmed people much to eat; but, - bless us, she'll eat naught.' - - 'I'll tell you what I'll do,' said Wilson, I'll take these two - big lads, as does naught but fight, home to my missis's for - to-night, and I will get a jug o' tea. Them women always does - best with tea and such slop.' - - "So Barton was now left alone with a little child, crying, - when it had done eating, for mammy, with a fainting, dead-like - woman, and with the sick man, whose mutterings were rising up to - screams and shrieks of agonized anxiety. He carried the woman to - the fire, and chafed her hands. He looked around for something - to raise her head. There was literally nothing but some loose - bricks: however, those he got, and taking off his coat, he - covered them with it as well as he could. He pulled her feet to - the fire, which now began to emit some faint heat. He looked - round for water, but the poor woman had been too weak to drag - herself out to the distant pump, and water there was none. He - snatched the child, and ran up the area steps to the room above, - and borrowed their only saucepan with some water in it. Then - he began, with the useful skill of a working man, to make some - gruel; and, when it was hastily made, he seized a battered iron - table-spoon, kept when many other little things had been sold in - a lot, in order to feed baby, and with it he forced one or two - drops between her clenched teeth. The mouth opened mechanically - to receive more, and gradually she revived. She sat up and looked - round; and, recollecting all, fell down again in weak and passive - despair. Her little child crawled to her, and wiped with its - fingers the thick-coming tears which she now had strength to - weep. It was now high time to attend to the man. He lay on straw, - so damp and mouldy no dog would have chosen it in preference to - flags; over it was a piece of sacking, coming next to his worn - skeleton of a body; above him was mustered every article of - clothing that could be spared by mother or children this bitter - weather; and, in addition to his own, these might have given as - much warmth as one blanket, could they have been kept on him; but - as he restlessly tossed to and fro, they fell off, and left him - shivering in spite of the burning heat of his skin. Every now and - then he started up in his naked madness, looking like the prophet - of wo in the fearful plague-picture; but he soon fell again in - exhaustion, and Barton found he must be closely watched, lest - in these falls he should injure himself against the hard brick - floor. He was thankful when Wilson reappeared, carrying in both - hands a jug of steaming tea, intended for the poor wife; but when - the delirious husband saw drink, he snatched at it with animal - instinct, with a selfishness he had never shown in health. - - "Then the two men consulted together. It seemed decided without - a word being spoken on the subject, that both should spend the - night with the forlorn couple; that was settled. But could no - doctor be had? In all probability, no. The next day an infirmary - order might be begged; but meanwhile the only medical advice - they could have must be from a druggist's. So Barton, being the - moneyed man, set out to find a shop in London Road. - - "He reached a druggist's shop, and entered. The druggist, - whose smooth manners seemed to have been salved over with his - own spermaceti, listened attentively to Barton's description - of Davenport's illness, concluded it was typhus fever, very - prevalent in that neighbourhood, and proceeded to make up a - bottle of medicine—sweet spirits of nitre, or some such innocent - potion—very good for slight colds, but utterly powerless to stop - for an instant the raging fever of the poor man it was intended - to relieve. He recommended the same course they had previously - determined to adopt, applying the next morning for an infirmary - order; and Barton left the shop with comfortable faith in the - physic given him; for men of his class, if they believe in physic - at all, believe that every description is equally efficacious. - - "Meanwhile Wilson had done what he could at Davenport's home. - He had soothed and covered the man many a time; he had fed and - hushed the little child, and spoken tenderly to the woman, who - lay still in her weakness and her weariness. He had opened a - door, but only for an instant; it led into a back cellar, with a - grating instead of a window, down which dropped the moisture from - pig-styes, and worse abominations. It was not paved; the floor - was one mass of bad-smelling mud. It had never been used, for - there was not an article of furniture in it; nor could a human - being, much less a pig, have lived there many days. Yet the 'back - apartment' made a difference in the rent. The Davenports paid - threepence more for having two rooms. When he turned round again, - he saw the woman suckling the child from her dry, withered breast. - - "'Surely the lad is weaned!' exclaimed he, in surprise. 'Why, how - old is he?' - - "'Going on two year,' she faintly answered. 'But, oh! it keeps - him quiet when I've naught else to gi' him, and he'll get a bit - of sleep lying there, if he's getten naught beside. We han done - our best to gi' the childer food, howe'er we pinched ourselves.' - - "'Han ye had no money fra th' town?' - - "'No; my master is Buckinghamshire born, and he's feared the - town would send him back to his parish, if he went to the board; - so we've just borne on in hope o' better times. But I think - they'll never come in my day;' and the poor woman began her weak, - high-pitched cry again. - - "'Here, sup this drop o' gruel, and then try and get a bit o' - sleep. John and I'll watch by your master to-night.' - - "'God's blessing be on you!' - - "She finished the gruel, and fell into a dead sleep. Wilson - covered her with his coat as well as he could, and tried to move - lightly for fear of disturbing her; but there need have been no - such dread, for her sleep was profound and heavy with exhaustion. - Once only she roused to pull the coat round her little child. - - "And now, all Wilson's care, and Barton's to boot, was wanted - to restrain the wild, mad agony of the fevered man. He started - up, he yelled, he seemed infuriated by overwhelming anxiety. He - cursed and swore, which surprised Wilson, who knew his piety in - health, and who did not know the unbridled tongue of delirium. - At length he seemed exhausted, and fell asleep; and Barton and - Wilson drew near the fire, and talked together in whispers. They - sat on the floor, for chairs there were none; the sole table - was an old tub turned upside down. They put out the candle and - conversed by the flickering fire-light. - - "'Han yo known this chap long?' asked Barton. - - "'Better nor three year. He's worked wi' Carsons that long, and - were always a steady, civil-spoken fellow, though, as I said - afore, somewhat of a Methodee. I wish I'd gotten a letter he - sent to his missis, a week or two agone, when he were on tramp - for work. It did my heart good to read it; for yo see, I were a - bit grumbling mysel; it seemed hard to be sponging on Jem, and - taking a' his flesh-meat money to buy bread for me and them as - I ought to be keeping. But, yo know, though I can earn naught, - I mun eat summut. Well, as I telled ye, I were grumbling, when - she,' indicating the sleeping woman by a nod, 'brought me - Ben's letter, for she could na read hersel. It were as good as - Bible-words; ne'er a word o' repining; a' about God being our - father, and that we mun bear patiently whate'er he sends.' - - "'Don ye think he's th' masters' father, too? I'd be loth to have - 'em for brothers.' - - "'Eh, John! donna talk so; sure there's many and many a master as - good nor better than us.' - - "'If you think so, tell me this. How comes it they're rich, and - we're poor? I'd like to know that. Han they done as they'd be - done by for us?' - - "But Wilson was no arguer—no speechifier, as he would have - called it. So Barton, seeing he was likely to have his own way, - went on— - - "'You'll say, at least many a one does, they'n getten capital, - an' we'n getten none. I say, our labour's our capital, and we - ought to draw interest on that. They get interest on their - capital somehow a' this time, while ourn is lying idle, else how - could they all live as they do? Besides, there's many on 'em as - had naught to begin wi'; there's Carsons, and Duncombes, and - Mengies, and many another as comed into Manchester with clothes - to their backs, and that were all, and now they're worth their - tens of thousands, a' gotten out of our labour; why the very - land as fetched but sixty pound twenty years agone is now worth - six hundred, and that, too, is owing to our labour; but look at - yo, and see me, and poor Davenport yonder. Whatten better are - we? They'n screwed us down to th' lowest peg, in order to make - their great big fortunes, and build their great big houses, and - we—why, we're just clemming, many and many of us. Can you say - there's naught wrong in this?'" - -These poor fellows, according to the story, took care of Davenport till -he died in that loathsome cellar, and then had him decently buried. -They knew not how soon his fate would overtake them, and they would -then want friends. In the mean time, while disease and starvation were -doing their work among the poor operatives, their masters were lolling -on sofas, and, in the recreations of an evening, spending enough to -relieve a hundred families. Perhaps, also, the masters' wives were -concocting petitions on the subject of negro-slavery—that kind of -philanthropy costing very little money or self-sacrifice. - -It may be said that the story of "Mary Barton" is a fiction; but it -must not be forgotten that it is the work of an English writer, and -that its scenes are professedly drawn from the existing realities of -life in Manchester, where the author resided. In the same work, we -find an account of an historical affair, which is important in this -connection, as showing how the wail of the oppressed is treated by the -British aristocracy:— - - "For three years past, trade had been getting worse and worse, - and the price of provisions higher and higher. This disparity - between the amount of the earnings of the working classes, - and the price of their food, occasioned, in more cases than - could well be imagined, disease and death. Whole families went - through a gradual starvation. They only wanted a Dante to record - their sufferings. And yet even his words would fall short of - the awful truth; they could only present an outline of the - tremendous facts of the destitution that surrounded thousands - upon thousands in the terrible years 1839, 1840, and 1841. Even - philanthropists, who had studied the subject, were forced to - own themselves perplexed in the endeavour to ascertain the real - causes of the misery; the whole matter was of so complicated - a nature, that it became next to impossible to understand it - thoroughly. It need excite no surprise, then, to learn that a bad - feeling between working men and the upper classes became very - strong in this season of privation. The indigence and sufferings - of the operatives induced a suspicion in the minds of many of - them, that their legislators, their managers, their employers, - and even their ministers of religion, were, in general, their - oppressors and enemies; and were in league for their prostration - and enthralment. The most deplorable and enduring evil that arose - out of the period of commercial depression to which I refer, - was this feeling of alienation between the different classes of - society. It is so impossible to describe, or even faintly to - picture, the state of distress which prevailed in the town at - that time, that I will not attempt it; and yet I think again that - surely, in a Christian land, it was not known even so feebly as - words could tell it, or the more happy and fortunate would have - thronged with their sympathy and their aid. In many instances - the sufferers wept first, and then they cursed. Their vindictive - feelings exhibited themselves in rabid politics. And when I hear, - as I have heard, of the sufferings and privations of the poor, of - provision-shops where ha'porths of tea, sugar, butter, and even - flour, were sold to accommodate the indigent—of parents sitting - in their clothes by the fireside during the whole night, for - seven weeks together, in order that their only bed and bedding - might be reserved for the use of their large family—of others - sleeping upon the cold hearth-stone for weeks in succession, - without adequate means of providing themselves with food or fuel - (and this in the depth of winter)—of others being compelled to - fast for days together, uncheered by any hope of better fortune, - living, moreover, or rather starving, in a crowded garret or damp - cellar, and gradually sinking under the pressure of want and - despair into a premature grave; and when this has been confirmed - by the evidence of their care-worn looks, their excited feelings, - and their desolate homes—can I wonder that many of them, in such - times of misery and destitution, spoke and acted with ferocious - precipitation! - - "An idea was now springing up among the operatives, that - originated with the Chartists, but which came at last to be - cherished as a darling child by many and many a one. They could - not believe that government knew of their misery; they rather - chose to think it possible that men could voluntarily assume the - office of legislators for a nation, ignorant of its real state; - as who should make domestic rules for the pretty behaviour of - children, without caring to know that these children had been - kept for days without food. Besides, the starving multitudes - had heard that the very existence of their distress had been - denied in Parliament; and though they felt this strange and - inexplicable, yet the idea that their misery had still to be - revealed in all its depths, and that then some remedy would be - found, soothed their aching hearts, and kept down their rising - fury. - - "So a petition was framed, and signed by thousands in the - bright spring days of 1839, imploring Parliament to hear - witnesses who could testify to the unparalleled destitution of - the manufacturing districts. Nottingham, Sheffield, Glasgow, - Manchester, and many other towns, were busy appointing delegates - to convey this petition, who might speak, not merely of what - they had seen and had heard, but from what they had borne and - suffered. Life-worn, gaunt, anxious, hunger-stamped men were - those delegates." - -The delegates went in a body to London, and applied at the Parliament -House for permission to present their petition upon the subject nearest -their hearts—the question of life and death. They were haughtily -denied a hearing. The assemblage of the "best gentlemen in Europe," -were, perhaps, discussing the best means of beautifying their parks -and extending their estates. What had these rose-pink legislators to -do with the miseries of the base-born rabble—the soil-serfs of their -chivalric Norman ancestors? The delegates returned in despair to their -homes, to meet their starving relatives and friends, and tell them -there was not a ray of hope. In France such a rejection of a humble -petition from breadless working-men would have been followed by a -revolution. In Great Britain the labourers seem to have the inborn -submission of hereditary slaves. Though they feel the iron heel of -the aristocracy upon their necks, and see their families starving -around them, they delay, and still delay, taking that highway to -freedom—manly and united rebellion. - -The workmen employed in the factories are subjected to the cruel -treatment of overlookers, who have the power of masters, and use it -as tyrants. If an operative does not obey an order, he is not merely -reproved, but kicked and beaten as a slave. He dare not resent, for -if he did he would be turned forth to starve. Such being the system -under which he works, the operative has the look and air of a degraded -Helot. Most of them are unhealthy, destitute of spirit, and enfeebled -by toil and privation. The hand-loom weavers, who are numerous in some -districts, are the most miserable of the labourers, being hardly able -to earn scant food and filthy shelter. - -The hundreds of thousands of tender age employed in all the various -branches of manufacture are in all cases the children of the poor. -When the father goes to the workhouse he has no longer any control -over his children. They are at the mercy of the parish, and may be -separated, apprenticed to all sorts of masters, and treated, to all -intents and purposes, as slaves. The invention of labour-saving -machinery has brought the services of children into great demand in the -manufacturing towns. They may be _bought_ at the workhouse at a cheap -rate, and then they must trust to God alone for their future welfare. -There is scarcely an instance in which the law ever interferes for -their protection. The masters and overlookers are allowed to beat their -younger operatives with impunity. - -The following evidence contains instances of a treatment totally -barbarous, and such are very frequent, according to the report of the -commissioners:— - - "When she was a child, too little to put on her ain claithes, - the overlooker used to beat her till she screamed again. Gets - many a good beating and swearing. They are all very ill-used. The - overseer carries a strap. Has been licked four or five times. - The boys are often severely strapped; the girls sometimes get - a clout. The mothers often complain of this. Has seen the boys - have black and blue marks after strapping. Three weeks ago the - overseer struck him in the eye with his clenched fist, so as to - force him to be absent two days. Another overseer used to beat - him with his fist, striking him so that his arm was black and - blue. Has often seen the workers beat cruelly. Has seen the girls - strapped; but the boys were beat so that they fell to the floor - in the course of the beating with a rope with four tails, called - a cat. Has seen the boys black and blue, crying for mercy. - - "The other night a little girl came home cruelly beaten; wished - to go before a magistrate, but was advised not. That man is - always strapping the children. The boys are badly used. They - are whipped with a strap till they cry out and shed tears; has - seen the managers kick and strike them. Has suffered much from - the slubbers' ill treatment. It is the practice of the slubbers - to go out and amuse themselves for an hour or so, and then make - up their work in the same time, which is a great fatigue to - the piecers, keeping them 'on the run' for an hour and a half - together, besides kicking and beating them for doing it badly, - when they were so much tired. The slubbers are all brutes to the - children; they get intoxicated, and then kick them about; they - are all alike. Never complained to the master; did once to his - mother, and she gave him a halfpenny not to mind it, to go back - to work like a good boy. Sometimes he used to be surly, and would - not go, and then she always had that tale about the halfpenny; - sometimes he got the halfpenny, and sometimes not. - - "He has seen the other children beaten. The little girls standing - at the drawing-head. They would run home and fetch their mothers - sometimes. - - "Hears the spinners swear very bad at their piecers, and sees - 'em lick 'em sometimes; some licks 'em with a strap, some licks - 'em with hand; some straps is as long as your arm, some is very - thick, and some thin; don't know where they get the straps. There - is an overlooker in the room; he very seldom comes in; they - won't allow 'em if they knows of it. (Child volunteered the last - observation. Asked how she knew that the overlookers would not - allow the spinners to lick the little hands; answers, 'Because - I've heard 'em say so.') Girls cry when struck with straps; only - one girl struck yesterday; they very seldom strike 'em. - - "There is an overlooker in the room, who is a man. The doffer - always scolds her when she is idle, not the overlooker; the - doffer is a girl. Sometimes sees her hit the little hands; always - hits them with her hands. Sometimes the overlooker hits the - little hands; always with her hand when she does. Her mother is - a throstle-spinner, in her room. The overseer scolds the little - hands; says he'll bag 'em; sometimes swears at 'em. Sometimes - overseer beats a 'little hand;' when he does it, it is always - with his open hand; it is not so very hard; sometimes on the - face, sometimes on the back. He never beats her. Some on 'em - cries when they are beat, some doesn't. He beats very seldom; - didn't beat any yesterday, nor last week, nor week before; - doesn't know how long it is ago since she has seen him strike a - girl. If our little helper gets careless we may have occasion to - correct her a bit. Some uses 'em very bad; beats 'em; but only - with the hand; and pulls their ears. Some cry, but not often. - Ours is a good overlooker, but has heard overlookers curse - very bad. The women weavers themselves curse. Has never cursed - herself. Can say so honestly from her heart. - - "Drawers are entirely under the control of the weavers, said - a master; they must obey their employer; if they do not they - are sometimes beat and sometimes discharged. _I chastise them - occasionally with alight whip_; do not allow it by my workmen; - sometimes they are punished with a fool's-cap, sometimes with a - _cane_, but not severely." - - "William M. Beath, of Mr. Owen's New Lanark Mills, deposed: - 'Thinks things improved under Mr. Owen's management. Recollects - seeing children beaten very severe at times. He himself has - been beaten very sore, so bad that his head was not in its - useful state for several days. Recollects, in particular, one - boy—James Barry—who was very unfond of working in the mill, - who was always beaten to his work by his father, with his hands - and feet; the boy was then beaten with a strap by the overseers, - for being too late, and not being willing to come. Has seen him - so beaten by Robert Shirley, William Watson, and Robert Sim. The - boy, James Barry, never came properly to manhood. It was always - conjectured that he had too many beatings. He was the cruellest - beat boy ever I saw there. There was a boy, whose name he does - not recollect, and while he (W. M. B.) was working as a weaver - at Lanark, having left the mill, and his death was attributed by - many to a kick in the groin from Peter Gall, an overseer. Does - not recollect whether the ill usage of the children above alluded - to took place in Mr. Owen's time, or before he came; but there - was certainly a great improvement, in many respects, under his - management, particularly in cleanliness, shorter hours, and the - establishment of schools. Has been three years employed in his - present situation. Has two children of his own in the mill. Does - not believe (and he has every opportunity of knowing) that the - children of this mill have been tampered with by anybody, with a - view to their testimony before the commissioners, and that they - are not afraid to tell the truth. He himself would, on account - of his children, like a little shorter hours and a little less - wages; they would then have a better opportunity of attending a - night-school.' - - "Henry Dunn, aged twenty-seven, a spinner: 'Has been five years - on this work. Went at eight years of age to Mr. Dunn's mill at - Duntochar; that was a country situation, and much healthier - than factories situated in town. They worked then from six to - eight; twelve hours and a half for work, and one hour and a - half for meals. Liked that mill as well as any he ever was in. - Great attention was paid to the cleanliness and comfort of the - people. The wages were lower there at that time than they were - at Glasgow. After leaving Duntochar, he came into town to see - Mr. Humphrey's, (now Messrs. Robert Thompson,) which was at that - time one continued scene of oppression. A system of cruelty - prevailed there at that time, which was confined almost entirely - to that work. The wheels were very small, and young men and women - of the ages of seventeen and eighteen were the spinners. There - was a tenter to every flat, and he was considered as a sort of - whipper-in, to force the children to extra exertion. Has seen - wounds inflicted upon children by tenters, by Alexander Drysdale, - among others, with a belt or stick, or the first thing that came - uppermost. Saw a kick given by the above-mentioned Alexander - Drysdale, which broke two ribs of a little boy. Helped to carry - the boy down to a surgeon. The boy had been guilty of some very - trifling offence, such as calling names to the next boy. But the - whole was the same; all the tenters were alike. Never saw any - ill-treatment of the children at this mill. Mr. Stevenson is a - very fine man. The machinery in the spinning department is quite - well boxed in—it could not be better; but the cards might be - more protected with great advantage. It is very hot in winter, - but he can't tell how hot. There is no thermometer.' - - "Ellen Ferrier, aged thirteen; carries bobbins: 'Has been three - years in this mill. Was one year before in another mill in this - town; doesn't like neither of them very well, because she was - always very tired from working from half-past five o'clock in - the morning until half-past seven, with only two intervals of - half an hour each. She sometimes falls asleep now. She worked - formerly in the lower flat. When Charles Kennedy was the overseer - he licked us very bad, beat our heads with his hand, and kicked - us very bad when the ends were down. He was aye licking them, and - my gademother (stepmother) has two or three times complained to - Mr. Shanks, (senior,) and Mr. S. always told him about it, but - he never minded. Does not know what he left the mill for. A good - many folks went away from this mill just for Kennedy. Can read; - cannot write.' - - "Mary Scott, aged fourteen: 'Has been here two years. Was here - with Charles Kennedy. When he has seen us just speaking to one - another, he struck us with his hands and with his feet. He beat - us when he saw any of the ends down. Has seen him strike Ellen - Ferrier (the last witness) very often, just with his hands; and - has seen him strike Betty Sutherland; can't tell how often, but - it was terrible often.' - - "Euphemia Anderson, aged twenty: 'Has been three years at this - mill; has been in different mills since she was seven years old. - About six years ago she was taken ill with pains in the legs, - and remained ill for three years. I wasn't able to stand. Thinks - it was the standing so long that made her ill. She is now again - quite in good health, except that she is sair-footed sometimes. - They have seats to sit down upon. When the work is bad, we cannot - get time to sit down. When the flax is good we have a good deal - of time. Has never seen children beat by Charles Kennedy, but has - heard talk of it; has often heard them complain of him, never of - anybody else. Can read; cannot write. Never went to a school; - never had muckle time. She would give up some of her wages to - have shorter hours. Her usual dinner is broth and potatoes.'" - -The next evidence is particularly valuable, as it came from a person -who had left the factory work; and having an independent business, he -may be presumed to have spoken without fear or favour:— - - "William Campbell, aged thirty-seven: 'Is a grocer, carrying on - business in Belfast. Was bred up a cotton-spinner. Went first - as a piecer to his father, who was a spinner at Mr. Hussy's - mill, Graham Square, Glasgow, and afterward to several mills - in this place, among which was Mr. John McCrackan's, where - he was, altogether, piecer and spinner between four and five - years, (1811-1818.) There was a regulation at that time there, - that every hand should be fined if five minutes too late at any - working hour in the morning and after meals—the younger 5_d._, - which amounted to the whole wages of some of the lesser ones; the - older hands were fined as high as 10_d._ The treatment of the - children at that time was very cruel. Has seen Robert Martin, - the manager, continually beating the children—with his hands - generally, sometimes with his clenched fist. Has often seen his - sister Jane, then about fourteen, struck by him; and he used to - pinch her ears till the blood came, and pull her hair. The faults - were usually very trifling. If on coming in he should find any - girl combing her hair, that was an offence for which he would - beat her severely, and he would do so if he heard them talking to - one another. He never complained of the ill-usage of his sister, - because he believed if he did, his father and two sisters, who - were both employed in the mill, would have been immediately - dismissed. A complaint was made by the father of a little girl, - against Martin, for beating a child. Mr. Ferrer, the police - magistrate, admonished him. He was a hot-headed, fiery man, and - when he saw the least fault, or what he conceived to be a fault, - he just struck them at once. Does not recollect any child getting - a lasting injury from any beating here. The treatment of the - children at the mill was the only thing which could be called - cruelty which he had witnessed. One great hardship to people - employed in the factories is the want of good water, which - exists in most of them. At only one of the mills which he worked - at was there water such as could be drunk brought into the flats, - and that was Mr. Holdsworth's mill, Anderson, Glasgow. From what - he recollects of his own and his sister's feelings, he considers - the hours which were then and are still commonly occupied in - actual labour—viz. twelve hours and a half per day—longer - than the health of children can sustain, and also longer than - will admit of any time being reserved in the evening for their - instruction.'" - -These instances of steady, systematic cruelty, in the treatment of -children, go far beyond any thing recorded of slave-drivers in other -countries. If an American overseer was to whip a slave to death, an -awful groan would express the horror of English lords and ladies. But -in the factories of Great Britain we have helpless children not only -kicked and beaten, but liable at any moment to receive a mortal wound -from the billy-roller of an exasperated slubber. Here is more evidence, -which we cannot think will flag in interest:— - - "John Gibb, eleven years old, solemnly sworn, deposes, 'that he - has been about three years a piecer in one of the spinning-rooms; - that the heat and confinement makes his feet sair, and makes him - sick and have headaches, and he often has a stitch in his side; - that he is now much paler than he used to be; that he receives - 4_s._ 6_d._ a week, which he gives to his mother; that he is very - desirous of short hours, that he might go to school more than he - can do at present; that the spinners often lick him, when he is - in fault, with taws of leather.' - - "Alexander Wylie, twenty-six years old, solemnly sworn, deposes, - 'that he is a spinner in one of the spinning departments; that - most of the spinners keep taws to preserve their authority, but - he does not; that he has seen them pretty severely whipped, - when they were in fault; that he has seen piecers beat by the - overseers, even with their clenched fists; that he has seen both - boys and girls so treated; that he has seen John Ewan beating his - little piecers severely, even within these few weeks; that when - he had a boy as a piecer, he beat him even more severely than the - girls; that he never saw a thermometer in his flat, till to-day, - when, in consequence of a bet, the heat was tried, and it was - found to be 72°, but that they are spinning coarser cotton in - his flat than in some of the other flats, where greater heat is - requisite.' - - "Bell Sinclair, thirteen years old, solemnly sworn, deposes, - 'that she has been about four years in the same flat with John - Gibb, a preceding witness; that all the spinners in the apartment - keep a leather strap, or taws, with which to punish the piecers, - both boys and girls—the young ones chiefly when they are - negligent; that she has been often punished by Francis Gibb and - by Robert Clarke, both with taws and with their hands, and with - his open cuff; that he has licked her on the side of the head and - on her back with his hands, and with the strap on her back and - arms; that she was never much the worse of the beating, although - she has sometimes cried and shed tears when Gibb or Clarke was - hitting her sair.' Deposes that she cannot write. - - "Mary Ann Collins, ten years old, solemnly sworn, deposes, - 'that she has been a year in one of the spinning-rooms in which - John Ewan is a spinner; that yesterday he gave her a licking - with the taws; that all the spinners keep taws except Alexander - Wylie; that he beat her once before till she grat; that she has - sometimes a pain in her breast, and was absent yesterday on that - account.' Deposes that she cannot write. - - "Daniel McGinty, twenty-two years old, solemnly sworn, deposes, - 'that he has been nearly two years a spinner here; that he - notices the piecers frequently complain of bad health; that he - was a petitioner for short hours, so that the people might have - more time for their education as well as for health; that he had - a strap to punish the children when they were in fault, but he - has not had one for some time, and the straps are not so common - now as they were formerly; that he and the other spinners prefer - giving the piecers a lick on the side of the head with their - hands, than to use a strap at all; that he has seen instances of - piecers being knocked down again and again, by a blow from the - hand, in other mills, but not since he came to this one; that he - has been knocked down himself in Barrowfield mill, by Lauchlin - McWharry, the spinner to whom he was a piecer.' - - "Isabella Stewart, twenty-two years old, solemnly sworn, deposes, - 'that she has been four years at this mill, and several years - at other mills; that she is very hoarse, and subject to cough, - and her feet and ankles swell in the evening; that she is very - anxious for short hours—thirteen hours are real lang hours—but - she has nothing else to find fault with; that Alexander Simpson - straps the young workers, and even gives her, or any of the - workers, if they are too late, a lick with the strap across the - shoulders; that he has done this within a week or two; that he - sometimes gives such a strap as to hurt her, but it is only when - he is in a passion.' Deposes that 'she cannot write. In the long - hours they canna get time to write nor to do nae thing.' - - "James Patterson, aged sixty years, solemnly sworn, deposes, - 'that he is an overseer in Messrs. James and William Brown's - flax-spinning mill, at Dundee, and has been in their employment - for about seven years; that he was previously at the spinning - mill at Glamis for twelve years, and there lost his right hand - and arm, caught by the belt of the wheels, in the preparing - floor; that he is in the reeling flat, with the women, who are - tired and sleepy; one of them—Margaret Porter—at present in - bed, merely from standing so long for a fortnight past; that it - would be God's blessing for every one to have shorter hours; - that he has been about forty years in spinning-mills, and has - seen the young people so lashed with a leather belt that they - could hardly stand: that at Trollick, a mill now given up, he - has seen them lashed, skin naked, by the manager, James Brown; - that at Moniferth he has seen them taken out of bed, when they - did not get up in time, and lashed with horsewhips to their work, - carrying their clothes, while yet naked, to the work, in their - arms with them.' - - "William Roe, (examined at his own request:) 'I am constable - of Radford. I was in the army. I went to work with Mr. Wilson - in 1825. I had been with Strutts, at Belper, before that. The - reason I left was this: I was told the overlooker was leathering - one of my boys. I had two sons there. The overlooker was Crooks. - I found him strapping the boy, and I struck him. I did not stop - to ask whether the boy had done any thing. I had heard of his - beating him before. Smith came up, and said I should work there - no more till I had seen Mr. Wilson. My answer was, that neither - I nor mine should ever work more for such a mill as that was. It - was but the day before I took the boy to Smith, to show him that - he had no time to take his victuals till he came out at twelve. - There was no satisfaction, but he laughed at it. That was the - reason I took the means into my own hands. Crooks threatened - to fetch a warrant for me, but did not. I told him the master - durst not let him. The boy had been doing nothing, only could - not keep up his work enough to please them. I left the mill, and - took away my sons. One was ten, the other was between eight and - nine. They went there with me. The youngest was not much past - eight when he went. I heard no more of it. I put all my reasons - down in a letter to Mr. Wilson, but I heard no more of it. Smith - was sent away afterward, but I don't know why. I have heard it - was for different ill-usages. Crooks is there now. Hogg was the - overlooker in my room. I have often seen him beat a particular - boy who was feeding cards. One day he pulled his ear till he - pulled it out of the socket, and it bled very much. I mean he - tore the bottom of the ear from the head. I went to him and said, - if that boy was mine I'd give him a better threshing than ever - he had in his life. It was reported to Mr. S. Wilson, and he - told me I had better mind my own business, and not meddle with - the overlookers. I never heard that the parents complained. Mr. - S. Wilson is dead now. Mr. W. Wilson said to me afterward, I - had made myself very forward in meddling with the overlookers' - business. I was to have come into the warehouse at Nottingham, - but in consequence of my speaking my mind I lost the situation. - I never had any complaint about my work while I was there, nor - at Mr. Strutt's. I left Mr. Strutt's in hopes to better myself. - I came as a machine smith. I went back to Mr. Strutt's, at - Milford, after I left Wilson, for two years. The men never had - more than twenty-five minutes for their dinner, and no extra pay - for stopping there. I dressed the top cards, and ground them. I - never heard that Mr. Wilson proposed to stop the breakfast hour, - and that the hands wished to go on. I don't think such a thing - could be. Whilst I worked there we always went in at half-past - five, and worked till nigh half-past seven. We were never paid - a farthing overtime. At Strutt's, if ever we worked an hour - overtime, we were paid an hour and a half. I have seen Smith - take the girls by the hair with one hand, and slap them in the - face with the other; big and little, it made no difference. He - worked there many years before he was turned away. He works in - the mill again now, but not as an overlooker. I never knew of any - complaint to the magistrate against Smith. I had 12_s._ when I - was there for standing wages. It was about nine in the morning my - boy was beat. I think it was in the middle of the day the boy's - ear was pulled. The work was very severe there while it lasted. A - boy generally had four breakers and finisher-cards to mind. Such - a boy might mind six when he had come on to eleven or twelve; I - mean finishers. A boy can mind from three to four breakers. Any - way they had not time to get their victuals. I don't know what - the present state of the mill is as to beating. Men will not - complain to the magistrates while work is so scarce, and they are - liable to be turned out; and if they go to the parish, why there - it is, 'Why, you had work, why did you not stay at it?'" - -Robert Blincoe, a small manufacturer, once an apprentice to a cotton -mill, and one who had seen and suffered much in factories, was sworn -and examined by Dr. Hawkins, on the 18th of May, 1833. In the evidence, -which follows, it will be noted that most of the sufferers mentioned -were parish children, without protectors of any kind:— - - "'Do you know where you were born?' 'No; I only know that I came - out of St. Pancras parish, London.' - - "'Do you know the name of your parents?' 'No. I used to be - called, when young, Robert Saint; but when I received my - indentures I was called Robert Blincoe; and I have gone by that - name ever since.' - - "'What age are you?' 'Near upon forty, according to my - indentures." - - "'Have you no other means of knowing your age but what you find - in your indentures?' 'No, I go by that.' - - "'Do you work at a cotton mill?' 'Not now. I was bound apprentice - to a cotton mill for fourteen years, from St. Pancras parish; - then I got my indentures. I worked five or six years after, at - different mills, but now I have got work of my own. I rent power - from a mill in Stockport, and have a room to myself. My business - is a sheet wadding manufacturer.' - - "'Why did you leave off working at the cotton mills?' 'I got - tired of it, the system is so bad; and I had saved a few pounds. - I got deformed there; my knees began to bend in when I was - fifteen; you see how they are, (showing them.) There are many, - many far worse than me at Manchester.' - - "'Can you take exercise with ease?' 'A very little makes me sweat - in walking. I have not the strength of those who are straight.' - - "'Have you ever been in a hospital, or under doctors, for your - knees or legs?' 'Never in a hospital, or under doctors for that, - but from illness from over-work I have been. When I was near - Nottingham there were about eighty of us together, boys and - girls, all 'prenticed out from St. Pancras parish, London, to - cotton mills; many of us used to be ill, but the doctors said it - was only for want of kitchen physic, and want of more rest.' - - "'Had you any accidents from machinery?' 'No, nothing to signify - much; I have not myself, but I saw, on the 6th of March last, - a man killed by machinery at Stockport; he was smashed, and he - died in four or five hours; I saw him while the accident took - place; he was joking with me just before; it was in my own room. - I employ a poor sore cripple under me, who could not easily get - work anywhere else. A young man came good-naturedly from another - room to help my cripple, and he was accidentally drawn up by the - strap, and was killed. I have known many such accidents take - place in the course of my life.' - - "'Recollect a few.' 'I cannot recollect the exact number, but - I have known several: one was at Lytton Mill, at Derbyshire; - another was the master of a factory at Staley Bridge, of the name - of Bailey. Many more I have known to receive injuries, such as - the loss of a limb. There is plenty about Stockport that is going - about now with one arm; they cannot work in the mills, but they - go about with jackasses and such like. One girl, Mary Richards, - was made a cripple, and remains so now, when I was in Lowdham - mill, near Nottingham. She was lapped up by a shaft underneath - the drawing-frame. That is now an old-fashioned machinery.' - - "'Have you any children?' 'Three.' - - "'Do you send them to factories?' 'No. I would rather have them - transported. In the first place, they are standing upon one leg, - lifting up one knee a greater part of the day, keeping the ends - up from the spindle. I consider that that employment makes many - cripples; then there is the heat and dust; then there are so - many different forms of cruelty used upon them; then they are - so liable to have their fingers catched, and to suffer other - accidents from the machinery; then the hours is so long that I - have seen them tumble down asleep among the straps and machinery, - and so get cruelly hurt; then I would not have a child of mine - there, because there is not good morals; there is such a lot of - them together that they learn mischief.' - - "'What do you do with your children?' 'My eldest of thirteen has - been to school, and can teach me. She now stays at home, and - helps her mother in the shop. She is as tall as me, and is very - heavy. Very different from what she would have been if she had - worked in a factory. My two youngest go to school, and are both - healthy. I send them every day two miles to school. I know from - experience the ills of confinement.' - - "'What are the forms of cruelty that you spoke of just now as - being practised upon children in factories?' 'I have seen the - time when two hand-vices, of a pound weight each, more or less, - have been screwed to my ears at Lytton mill, in Derbyshire. Here - are the scars still remaining behind my ears. Then three or four - of us have been hung at once to a cross-beam above the machinery, - hanging by our hands, without shirts or stockings. Mind, we were - apprentices, without father or mother, to take care of us; I - don't say they often do that now. Then, we used to stand up, in a - skip, without our shirts, and be beat with straps or sticks; the - skip was to prevent us from running away from the strap.' - - "'Do you think such things are done now in Manchester?' 'No, - not just the same things; but I think the children are still - beaten by overlookers; not so much, however, in Manchester, - where justice is always at hand, as in country places. Then they - used to tie on a twenty-eight pounds weight, (one or two at - once,) according to our size, to hang down on our backs, with - no shirts on. I have had them myself. Then they used to tie one - leg up to the faller, while the hands were tied behind. I have - a book written about these things, describing my own life and - sufferings. I will send it to you.'[88] - - "'Do the masters know of these things, or were they done only by - the overlookers?' 'The masters have often seen them, and have - been assistants in them.' - -The work is so protracted that the children are exhausted, and many -become crippled from standing too long in unhealthy positions:— - - "John Wright, steward in the silk factory of Messrs. Brinsley and - Shatwell, examined by Mr. Tufnell. - - "'What are the effects of the present system of labour?' 'From my - earliest recollections, I have found the effects to be awfully - detrimental to the well-being of the operative; I have observed, - frequently, children carried to factories, unable to walk, - and that entirely owing to excessive labour and confinement. - The degradation of the work-people baffles all description; - frequently have two of my sisters been obliged to be assisted - to the factory and home again, until by and by they could go no - longer, being totally crippled in their legs. And in the next - place, I remember some ten or twelve years ago working in one of - the largest firms in Macclesfield, (Messrs. Baker and Pearson,) - with about twenty-five men, where they were scarce one-half fit - for his majesty's service. Those that are straight in their limbs - are stunted in their growth, much inferior to their fathers in - point of strength. 3dly. Through excessive labour and confinement - there is often a total loss of appetite; a kind of languor - steals over the whole frame, enters to the very core, saps the - foundation of the best constitution, and lays our strength - prostrate in the dust. In the fourth place, by protracted - labour there is an alarming increase of cripples in various - parts of this town, which has come under my own observation and - knowledge.'" - -Young sufferers gave the following evidence to the commissioners:— - - "'Many a time has been so fatigued that she could hardly take - off her clothes at night, or put them on in the morning; her - mother would be raging at her, because when she sat down she - could not get up again through the house.' 'Looks on the long - hours as a great bondage.' 'Thinks they are not much better than - the Israelites in Egypt, and their life is no pleasure to them.' - 'When a child, was so tired that she could seldom eat her supper, - and never awoke of herself.'—'Are the hours to be shortened?' - earnestly demanded one of these girls of the commissioner who was - examining her, 'for they are too long.'" - -The truth of the account given by the children of the fatigue they -experience by the ordinary labour of the factory is confirmed by the -testimony of their parents. In general, the representation made by -parents is like the following:— - - "'Her children come home so tired and worn out they can hardly - eat their supper.' 'Has often seen his daughter come home in the - evening so fatigued that she would go to bed supper-less,' 'Has - seen the young workers absolutely oppressed, and unable to sit - down or rise up; this has happened to his own children.' - -These statements are confirmed by the evidence of the adult operatives. -The depositions of the witnesses of this class are to the effect, that -"the younger workers are greatly fatigued;" that "children are often -very severe (unwilling) in the mornings;" that "children are quite -tired out;" that "the long hours exhaust the workers, especially the -young ones, to such a degree that they can hardly walk home;" that "the -young workers are absolutely oppressed, and so tired as to be unable -to sit down or rise up;" that "younger workers are so tired they often -cannot raise their hands to their head;" that "all the children are -very keen for short hours, thinking them now such bondage that they -might as well be in a prison;" that "the children, when engaged in -their regular work, are often exhausted beyond what can be expressed;" -that "the sufferings of the children absolutely require that the hours -should be shortened." - -The depositions of the overlookers are to the same effect, namely, -that "though the children may not complain, yet that they seem tired -and sleepy, and happy to get out of doors to play themselves. That, -"the work over-tires the workers in general." "Often sees the children -very tired and stiff-like." "Is entirely of opinion, after real -experience, that the hours of labour are far too long for the children, -for their health and education; has from twenty-two to twenty-four boys -under his charge, from nine to about fourteen years old, and they are -generally much tired at night, always anxious, asking if it be near the -mill-stopping." "Never knew a single worker among the children that -did not complain of the long hours, which prevent them from getting -education, and from getting health in the open air." - -The managers in like manner state, that "the labour exhausts the -children;" that "the workers are tired in the evening;" that "children -inquire anxiously for the hour of stopping." And admissions to the same -effect, on the part of managers and proprietors, will be found in every -part of the Scotch depositions. - -In the north-eastern district the evidence is equally complete that the -fatigue of the young workers is great. - - "'I have known the children,' says one witness, 'to hide - themselves in the store among the wool, so that they should not - go home when the work was over, when we have worked till ten or - eleven. I have seen six or eight fetched out of the store and - beat home; beat out of the mill however; I do not know why they - should hide themselves, unless it was that they were too tired to - go home.' - - "'Many a one I have had to rouse in the last hour, when the - work is very slack, from fatigue.' 'The children were very much - jaded, especially when we worked late at night.' 'The children - bore the long hours very ill indeed.' 'Exhausted in body and - depressed in mind by the length of the hours and the height of - the temperature.' 'I found, when I was an overlooker, that, - after the children from eight to twelve years had worked eight, - nine, or ten hours, they were nearly ready to faint; some were - asleep; some were only kept to work by being spoken to, or by - a little chastisement, to make them jump up. I was sometimes - obliged to chastise them when they were almost fainting, and it - hurt my feelings; then they would spring up and work pretty well - for another hour; but the last two or three hours were my hardest - work, for they then got so exhausted,' 'I have never seen fathers - carrying their children backward nor forward to the factories; - but I have seen children, apparently under nine, and from nine - to twelve years of age, going to the factories at five in the - morning almost asleep in the streets.'" - - "Ellen Cook, card-filler: 'I was fifteen last winter. I worked - on then sometimes day and night;—may be twice a week; I used to - earn 4_s._ a week; I used to go home to dinner; I was a feeder - then; I am a feeder still. We used to come at half-past eight at - night, and work all night till the rest of the girls came in the - morning; they would come at seven, I think. Sometimes we worked - on till half-past eight the next night, after we had been working - all the night before. We worked on meal-hours, except at dinner. - I have done that sometimes three nights a week, and sometimes - four nights. It was just as the overlooker chose. John Singleton; - he is overlooker now. Sometimes the slubbers would work on all - night too; not always. The pieceners would have to stay all night - then too. It was not often though that the slubbers worked all - night. We worked by ourselves. It was when one of the boilers - was spoiled; that was the reason we had to work all night. The - engine would not carry all the machines. I was paid for the - over-hours when we worked day and night; not for meal-hours. We - worked meal-hours, but were not paid for them. George Lee is - the slubber in this room. He has worked all night; not often, I - think; not above twice all the time we worked so; sometimes he - would not work at all. The pieceners would work too when he did. - They used to go to sleep, poor things! when they had over-hours - in the night. I think they were ready enough to sleep sometimes, - when they only worked in the daytime. I never was a piecener; - sometimes I go to help them when there are a good many cardings. - We have to get there by half-past five, in the morning, now. The - engine begins then. We don't go home to breakfast. Sometimes we - have a quarter of an hour; sometimes twenty minutes; sometimes - none. Them in the top-room have a full half hour. We can't take - half an hour if we like it; we should get jawed; we should have - such a noise, we should not hear the last of it. The pieceners in - this room (there were four) have the same time as we do. In some - of the rooms they forfeit them if they are five minutes too late; - they don't in this room. The slubber often beats the pieceners. - He has a strap, and wets it, and gives them a strap over the - hands, poor things! They cry out ever so loud sometimes; I don't - know how old they are.'" - - "James Simpson, aged twenty-four, solemnly sworn, deposes: 'That - he has been about fifteen years in spinning mills; that he has - been nearly a year as an overseer in Mr. Kinmond's mill here, - and was dismissed on the 2d of May, for supporting, at a meeting - of the operatives, the Ten Hours Bill; that he was one of the - persons to receive subscriptions, in money, to forward the - business, and was dismissed, not on a regular pay-day, but on a - Thursday evening, by James Malcolm, manager, who told him that - he was dismissed for being a robber to his master in supporting - the Ten Hours Bill; that by the regulations of the mill he was - entitled to a week's notice, and that a week's wages were due to - him at the time, but neither sum has been paid; that he was two - or three times desired by the overseer to strike the boys if he - saw them at any time sitting, and has accordingly struck them - with a strap, but never so severely as to hurt them; that he - is not yet employed.' And the preceding deposition having been - read over to him, he was cautioned to be perfectly sure that it - was true in all particulars, as it would be communicated to the - overseer named by him, and might still be altered if, in any - particular, he wished the change of a word; but he repeated his - assertion, on oath, that it was. - - "Ann Kennedy, sixteen years old, solemnly sworn, deposes: 'That - she has been nearly a year a piecer to James McNish, a preceding - witness; that she has had swelled feet for about a year, but she - thinks them rather better; that she has a great deal of pain, - both in her feet and legs, so that she was afraid she would not - be able to go on with the work; that she thought it was owing to - the heat and the long standing on her feet; that it is a very - warm room she is in; that she sometimes looks at the thermometer - and sees it at 82°, or 84, or 86°; that all the people in the - room are very pale, and a good deal of them complaining.' - Deposes, that she cannot write. - - "Joseph Hurtley, aged forty-four: 'Is an overlooker of the - flax-dressing department. Has been there since the commencement. - Thinks, from what he observes, that the hours are too long for - children. Is led to think so from seeing the children much - exhausted toward the conclusion of the work. When he came here - first, and the children were all new to the work, he found that - by six o'clock they began to be drowsy and sleepy. He took - different devices to keep them awake, such as giving them snuff, - &c.; but this drowsiness partly wore off in time, from habit, but - he still observes the same with all the boys, (they are all boys - in his department,) and it continues with them for some time. - Does not know whether the children go to school in the evening, - but he thinks, from their appearance, that they would be able to - receive very little benefit from tuition. - - "'The occupation of draw-boys and girls to harness hand-loom - weavers, in their own shops, is by far the lowest and least - sought after of any connected with the manufacture of cotton. - They are poor, neglected, ragged, dirty children. They seldom - are taught any thing, and they work as long as the weaver, that - is, as long as they can see, standing on the same spot, always - barefooted, on an earthen, cold, damp floor, in a close, damp - cellar, for thirteen or fourteen hours a day. - - "'The power-loom dressers have all been hand-loom weavers, but - now prevent any more of their former companions from being - employed in their present business. - - "'They earn 2_s._ per week, and eat porridge, if their parents - can afford it; if not, potatoes and salt. They are, almost - always, between nine and thirteen years of age, and look healthy, - though some have been two or three years at the business; while - the weaver, for whom they draw, is looking pale, squalid, and - underfed. - - "'There are some hundreds of children thus employed in the - immediate neighbourhood of Glasgow.'" - -In Leicester, Mr. Drinkwater, of the Factory Commission, found that -great cruelty was practised upon the children employed in some of -the factories, by the workmen called "slubbers," for whom the young -creatures act as piecers. Thomas Hough, a trimmer and dyer, who had -worked at Robinson's factory, deposed— - - "'The children were beaten at the factory; I complained, and they - were turned away. If I could have found the man at the time there - would have something happened, I am sure. I knew the man; it was - the slubber with whom they worked. His name was Smith. Robinson - had the factory then. I had my second son in to Mr. Robinson, - and stripped him, and showed him how cruelly he had been beaten. - There were nineteen bruises on his back and posteriors. It was - not with the billy-roller. It was with the strap. He has often - been struck with the billy-roller at other times, over the head. - Robinson rebuked the man, and said he should not beat them any - more. The children were beat several times after that; and on - account of my making frequent complaints they turned the children - away. They worked with Smith till they left. Smith was of a nasty - disposition, rather. I would say of the slubbers generally, that - they are a morose, ill-tempered set. Their pay depends on the - children's work. The slubbers are often off drinking, and then - they must work harder to get the cardings up. I have seen that - often. That is in the lamb's-wool trade. Mr. Gamble is one of the - most humane men that ever lived, by all that I hear, and he will - not allow the slubbers to touch the children, on any pretence; - if they will not work, he turns them away. There gets what they - call flies on the cardings, that is, when the cardings are not - properly pieced; and it is a general rule to strike the children - when that happens too often. They allow so many ratched cardings, - as they call them, in a certain time; and if there are more, they - call the children round to the billy-gate and strap them. I have - seen the straps which some of them use; they are as big as the - strap on my son's lathe yonder, about an inch broad, (looking - at it.) Oh, it is bigger than this, (it measured 7-8ths.) It is - about an inch. I have seen the children lie down on the floor, - and the slubber strike on them as they lay. It depends entirely - on the temper of the man; sometimes they will only swear at them, - sometimes they will beat them. They will be severe with them - at one time, and very familiar at another, and run on with all - sorts of debauched language, and take indecent liberties with the - feeders and other big girls, before the children. That is the - reason why they call the factories hell-holes. There are some - a good deal different. The overlookers do not take much notice - generally. They pick out bullies, generally, for overlookers. It - is very necessary to have men of a determined temper to keep the - hands in order. - - "'I have known my children get strapped two or three times - between a meal. At all times of the day. Sometimes they would - escape for a day or two together, just as it might happen. Then - they get strapped for being too late. They make the children - sum up, that is, pick up the waste, and clean up the billies - during the meal-time, so that the children don't get their time. - The cruelty complained of in the factories is chiefly from the - slubbers. There is nobody so closely connected with the children - as the slubbers. There is no other part of the machinery with - which I am acquainted where the pay of the man depends on the - work of the children so much.'" - - "Joseph Badder, a slubber, deposed: 'Slubbing and spinning is - very heavy. Those machines are thrown aside now. The spinners did - not like them, nor the masters neither. They did not turn off - such stuff as they expected. I always found it more difficult - to keep my piecers awake the last hours of a winter's evening. - I have told the master, and I have been told by him that I did - not half hide them. This was when they were working from six to - eight. I have known the children hide themselves in the store - among the wool, so that they should not go home when the work was - over, when we have worked till ten or eleven. I have seen six or - eight fetched out of the store and beat home; beat out of the - mill. However, I do not know why they should hide themselves, - unless it was they were too tired to go home. My piecers had - two hours for meals. Other parts of the work I have known them - work children, from seven to twelve in age, from six in the - morning till ten or eleven at night, and give no time for meals; - eat their victuals as they worked; the engines running all the - time. The engine never stopped at meal-times; it was just as the - spinner chose whether the children worked on or not. They made - more work if they went on. I never would allow any one to touch - my piecers. The foreman would come at times, and has strapped - them, and I told him I would serve him the same if he touched - them. I have seen the man who worked the other billy beat his - piecers. I have seen children knocked down by the billy-rollers. - It is a weapon that a man will easily take up in a passion. I - do not know any instance of a man being prosecuted for it. The - parents are unwilling, for fear the children should lose their - work. I know Thorpe has been up before the magistrate half a - dozen times or more, on the complaint of the parents. He has been - before the bench, at the Exchange, as we call it, and I have seen - him when he came back, when the magistrates have reprimanded - Thorpe, and told the parents they had better take the children - away. After that he has been sometimes half drunk, perhaps, and - in a passion, and would strap them for the least thing, more - than he did before. I remember once that he was fined; it was - about two years and a half ago; it was for beating a little - girl; he was fined 10_s._ I have seen him strap the women when - they took the part of the children. The master complained he was - not strict enough. I know from Thorpe that the master always - paid his expenses when he was before the magistrate. I believe - they generally do in all the factories. I have frequently had - complaints against myself by the parents of the children, for - beating them. I used to beat them. I am sure no man can do - without it who works long hours; I am sure he cannot. I told them - I was very sorry after I had done it, but I was forced to do it. - The master expected me to do my work, and I could not do mine - unless they did theirs. One lad used to say to me frequently, - (he was a jocular kind of lad,) that he liked a good beating at - times, it helped him to do his work. I used to joke with them to - keep up their spirits. _I have seen them fall asleep, and they - have been performing their work with their hands while they were - asleep, after the billy had stopped, when their work was done. I - have stopped and looked at them for two minutes, going through - the motions of piecening, fast asleep, when there was really - no work to do, and they were really doing nothing._ I believe, - when we have been working long hours, that they have never been - washed, but on a Saturday night, for weeks together. - - "Thomas Clarke, (examined at request of Joseph Badder:) 'I am - aged eleven, I work at Cooper's factory; the rope-walk. I spin - there. I earn 4_s._ a week there. I have been there about one - year and a half. I was in Ross's factory before that. I was - piecener there. I piecened for Joseph Badder one while, then - for George Castle. I piecened for Badder when he left. Badder - told me I was wanted here. We have not been talking about it. I - remember that Jesse came to the machine, and Badder would not let - him go nigh, and so they got a scuffling about it. I was very - nigh nine years of age when I first went to piecen. I got 2_s._ - 6_d._ a week, at first. I think I was a good hand at it. When I - had been there half a year I got 3_s._ Badder used to strap me - some odd times. Some odd times he'd catch me over the head, but - it was mostly on the back. He made me sing out. He has taken - the billy-roller to me sometimes; about four times, I think. He - used to take us over the shoulders with that; he would have done - us an injury if he had struck us over the head. I never saw any - one struck over the head with a billy-roller. He would strap us - about twelve times at once. He used to strap us sometimes over - the head. He used to strap us for letting his cards run through. - I believe it was my fault. If we had had cardings to go on with - we would have kept it from running through. It was nobody's fault - that there were no cardings, only the slubber's fault that worked - so hard. I have had, maybe, six stacks of cardings put up while - he was out. When he came in, he would work harder to work down - the stacks. Sometimes he would stop the card. He used to strap - us most when he was working hardest. He did not strap us more at - night than he did in the daytime. He would sometimes stay half a - day. When he was away, as soon as we had six stacks of cardings - up, the rule was to stop, and then we'd pick up the waste about - the room, and take a play sometimes, but very seldom. Mr. Ross - paid me. Badder never paid me when he was out. I never got any - money from Badder. I used sometimes to fall asleep. The boy next - to me used often to fall asleep: John Breedon; he got many a - stroke. That was when we were working for Castle; that would be - about six o'clock. He was about the size of me; he was older than - I was. They always strapped us if we fell asleep. Badder was a - better master than Castle. Castle used to get a rope, about as - thick as my thumb, and double it, and put knots in it, and lick - us with that. That was a good bit worse than the strap. I was to - no regular master afterward; I used to do bits about the room. - I ran away because Thorpe used to come and strap me. He did not - know what he was strapping me for; it was just as he was in his - humours. I never saw such a man; he would strap any one as did - not please him. I only worked for him a week or two. I didn't - like it, and I ran away. He would strap me if even there was a - bit of waste lying about the room. I have had marks on my back - from Castle's strapping me.'" - -In Nottingham, also, there is much cruelty shown in the treatment of -the children, as will appear from the following evidence taken by Mr. -Power:— - - "Williamson, the father: 'My two sons, one ten, the other - thirteen, work at Milnes's factory, at Lenton. They go at - half-past five in the morning; don't stop at breakfast or - tea-time. They stop at dinner half an hour. Come home at a - quarter before ten. They used to work till ten, sometimes - eleven, sometimes twelve. They earn between them 6_s._ 2_d._ per - week. One of them, the eldest, worked at Wilson's for 2 years - at 2_s._ 3_d._ a week. He left because the overlooker beat him - and loosened a tooth for him. I complained, and they turned him - away for it. They have been gone to work sixteen hours now; - they will be very tired when they come home at half-past nine. - I have a deal of trouble to get 'em up in the morning. I have - been obliged to beat 'em with a strap in their shirts, and to - pinch 'em, in order to get them well awake. It made me cry to be - obliged to do it.' - - "'Did you make them cry?' 'Yes, sometimes. They will be home - soon, very tired, and you will see them.' I preferred walking - toward the factory to meet them. I saw the youngest only, and - asked him a few questions. He said, 'I'm sure I shan't stop to - talk to you; I want to go home and get to bed; I must be up at - half-past five again to-morrow morning.' - - "G— — and A— —, examined. The boy: 'I am going fourteen: my - sister is eleven. I have worked in Milnes's factory two years. - She goes there also. We are both in the clearing-room. I think we - work too long hours; I've been badly with it. We go at half-past - five, give over at half-past nine. I'm now just come home. We - sometimes stay till twelve. We are obliged to work over-hours. I - have 4_s._ a week; that is, for staying from six till seven. They - pay for over-hours besides. I asked to come away one night, - lately, at eight o'clock, being ill; I was told if I went I must - not come again. I am not well now. I can seldom eat any breakfast; - my appetite is very bad. I have had a bad cold for a week.' - - "Father: 'I believe him to be ill from being over-worked. My - little girl came home the other day, cruelly beaten. I took her - to Mr. Milnes; did not see him, but showed Mrs. Milnes the marks. - I thought of taking it before a magistrate, but was advised - to let it drop. They might have turned both my children away. - That man's name is Blagg; he is always strapping the children. - I shan't let the boy go to them much longer; I shall try to - apprentice him; it's killing him by inches; he falls asleep - over his food at night. I saw an account of such things in the - newspaper, and thought how true it was of my own children.' - - "Mother: 'I have worked in the same mills myself. The same man - was there then. I have seen him behave shocking to the children. - He would take 'em by the hair of the head and drag 'em about the - room. He has been there twelve years. There's a many young ones - in that hot room. There's six of them badly now, with bad eyes - and sick-headache. This boy of ours has always been delicate - from a child. His appetite is very bad now; he does not eat his - breakfast sometimes for two or three days together. The little - girl bears it well; she is healthy. I should prefer their coming - home at seven, without additional wages. The practice of working - over-hours has been constantly pursued at Milnes's factory.' - - "John Fortesque, at his own house, nine P.M. 'I am an overlooker - in this factory. We have about one hundred hands. Forty quite - children; most of the remainder are young women. Our regular - day is from six to seven. It should be an hour for dinner, but - it is only half an hour. I don't know how it comes so. We have - had some bad men in authority who made themselves big; it is - partly the master. No time is allowed for tea or breakfast; - there used to be a quarter of an hour for each; it's altered - now. We call it twelve hours a day. Over-time is paid for extra. - When we are busy we work over-hours. Our present time is till - half-past nine. It has been so all winter, and since to this - time. We have some very young ones; as young as eight. I don't - like to take them younger; they're not able to do our work. We - have three doubling-rooms, a clearing-room, and a gassing-room. - We have about forty in the clearing-room. We occasionally find - it necessary to make a difference as to the time of keeping - some of the children. We have done so several times. Master has - said: Pick out the youngest, and let them go, and get some of - the young women to take their places. I am not the overlooker - to the clearing-room. Blagg is overlooker there; there has been - many complaints against him. He's forced to be roughish in order - to keep his place. If he did not keep the work going on properly - there would be some one to take his place who would. There are - some children so obstinate and bad they must be punished. A strap - is used. Beating is necessary, on account of their being idle. - We find it out often in this way: we give them the same number - of bobbins each; when the number they ought to finish falls off, - then they're corrected. They would try the patience of any man. - It is not from being tired, I think. It happens as often in the - middle of the day as at other times. I don't like the beating - myself; I would rather there were little deductions in their - earnings for these offences. I am sure the children would not - like to have any of their earnings stopped; I am sure they would - mind it. From what I have heard parents say about their children - when at work, I am sure they (the parents) would prefer this - mode of correction; and, I think, it would have an effect on the - children. At the factory of Messrs. Mills and Elliot they go on - working all the night as well as day. I believe them to have done - so for the last year and a half; they have left it off about a - week. (_A respectable female here entered with a petition against - negro-slavery; after she was gone, Mr. Fortesque continued._) I - think home slavery as bad as it can be abroad; worst of anywhere - in the factories. The hours we work are much too long for young - people. Twelve hours' work is enough for young or old, confined - in a close place. The work is light, but it's standing so long - that tires them. I have been here about two years; I have seen - bad effects produced on people's health by it, but not to any - great degree. It must be much worse at Mills and Elliot's; - working night as well as day, the rooms are never clear of - people's breaths. We set our windows open when we turn the hands - out. The gas, too, which they use at night, makes it worse.'" - -The italicised parenthesis is, _bonâ fide_, a part of the Report, -as may be proved by consulting the parliamentary document. The -_respectable female_ was probably the original of Dickens's Mrs. -Jellaby. - -Read these references to a case of barbarity in a factory at Wigan:— - - _Extract from a speech made by Mr. Grant, a Manchester spinner, - at a meeting held at Chorlton-upon-Medlock; reported in the - Manchester Courier of 20th April, 1833._ - - "Much was said of the black slaves and their chains. No doubt - they were entitled to freedom, but were there no slaves except - those of sable hue? Has slavery no sort of existence among - children of the factories? Yes, and chains were sometimes - introduced, though those chains might not be forged of iron. He - would name an instance of this kind of slavery, which took place - at Wigan. A child, not ten years of age, having been late at - the factory one morning, had, as a punishment, a rope put round - its neck, to which a weight of twenty pounds was attached; and, - thus burdened like a galley-slave, it was compelled to labour - for a length of time in the midst of an impure atmosphere and a - heated room. [Loud cries of, Shame!] The truth of this has been - denied by Mr. Richard Potter, the member for Wigan; but he (the - speaker) reiterated its correctness. He has seen the child; and - its mother's eyes were filled with tears while she told him this - shocking tale of infant suffering." - - _Extract from a speech made by Mr. Oastler, on the occasion of a - meeting at the City of London Tavern; reported in the Times, of - the 25th of February, 1833._ - - "In a mill at Wigan, the children, for any slight neglect, were - loaded with weights of twenty pounds, passed over their shoulders - and hanging behind their backs. Then there was a murderous - instrument called a billy-roller, about eight feet long and one - inch and a half in diameter, with which many children had been - knocked down, and in some instances murdered by it." - - _Extract from a speech made by Mr. Oastler, at a meeting held in - the theatre at Bolton, and reported in the Bolton Chronicle, of - the 30th of March, 1833._ - - "In one factory they have a door which covers a quantity of cold - water, in which they plunge the sleepy victim to awake it. In - Wigan they tie a great weight to their backs. I knew the Russians - made the Poles carry iron weights in their exile to Siberia, but - it was reserved for Christian England thus to use an infant." - -Rowland Detroiser deposed before the Central Board of Commissioners, -concerning the treatment of children in the cotton factories:— - - "'The children employed in a cotton-factory labour, are not - all under the control or employed by the proprietor. A very - considerable number is employed and paid by the spinners and - stretchers, when there are stretchers. These are what are called - piecers and scavengers; the youngest children being employed - in the latter capacity, and as they grow up, for a time in the - scavengers and piecers. In coarse mills, that is, mills in which - low numbers of yarn are spun, the wages of the scavengers is - commonly from 1_s._ 6_d._ to 2_s._ 6_d._, according to size and - ability. The men do not practise the system of fining, generally - speaking, and especially toward these children. The sum which - they earn is so small it would be considered by many a shame to - make it less. They do not, however, scruple to give them a good - bobbying, as it is called; that is, beating them with a rope - thickened at one end, or, in some few brutal instances, with the - combined weapons of fist and foot.' - - "'But this severity, you say, is practised toward the children - who are employed by the men, and not employed by the masters?' - 'Yes.' - - "'And the men inflict the punishment?' 'Yes.' - - "'Not the overlookers?' 'Not in these instances.' - - "'But how do you reconcile your statement with the fact that - the men have been the principal complainers of the cruelties - practised toward the children, and also the parties who are most - active in endeavouring to obtain for the children legislative - protection?' 'My statement is only fact. I do not profess to - reconcile the apparent inconsistency. The men are in some measure - forced by circumstances into the practice of that severity of - which I have spoken.' - - "'Will you explain these circumstances?' 'The great object in a - cotton mill is to turn as much work off as possible, in order - to compensate by quantity for the smallness of the profit. To - that end every thing is made subservient. There are two classes - of superintendents in those establishments. The first class are - what are called managers, from their great power and authority. - Their especial business is to watch over the whole concern, and - constantly to attend to the quantity and quality of the yarn, - &c. turned off. To these individuals the second class, called - overlookers, are immediately responsible for whatever is amiss. - The business of overlookers is to attend to particular rooms and - classes of hands, for the individual conduct of which they are - held responsible. These individuals, in some mills, are paid in - proportion to the quantity of work turned off; in all, they are - made responsible for that quantity, as well as for the quality; - and as the speed of each particular machine is known, nothing - is more easy than to calculate the quantity which it ought to - produce. This quantity is the maximum; the minimum allowed is - the least possible deficiency, certain contingencies being - taken into account. In those mills in which the overlookers are - paid in proportion to the quantity of work turned off, interest - secures the closest attention to the conduct of every individual - under them; and in other mills, fear of losing their places - operates to produce the same effect. It is one continual system - of driving; and, in order to turn off as great a quantity of - work as is possible, the manager drives the overlookers, and - the overlookers drive the men. Every spinner knows that he must - turn off the average quantity of work which his wheels are - capable of producing, or lose his place if deficiencies are - often repeated; and consequently, the piecers and scavengers are - drilled, in their turns, to the severest attention. On their - constant attention, as well as his own, depends the quantity of - work done. So that it is not an exaggeration to say, that their - powers of labour are subjected to the severity of an undeviating - exaction. A working man is estimated in these establishments - in proportion to his physical capacity rather than his moral - character, and therefore it is not difficult to infer what must - be the consequences. It begets a system of debasing tyranny in - almost every department, the most demoralizing in its effects. - Kind words are godsends in many cotton factories, and oaths - and blows the usual order of the day. The carder must produce - the required quantity of drawing and roving; the spinner, the - required quantity of yarn; a system of overbearing tyranny is - adopted toward everybody under them; they are cursed into the - required degree of attention, and blows are resorted to with the - children when oaths fail, and sometimes even before an oath - has been tried. In short, the men must do work enough, or lose - their places. It is a question between losing their places and - the exercise of severity of discipline in all cases; between - starvation and positive cruelty, in many. There are exceptions, - but my conviction is that they are comparatively few indeed. To - me the whole system has always appeared one of tyranny." - -Mr. Abraham Whitehead, clothier, of Scholes, near Holmfirth, examined -by Parliamentary Committee:— - - "'What has been the treatment which you have observed that these - children have received at the mills, to keep them attentive for - so many hours, at so early ages?' 'They are generally cruelly - treated; so cruelly treated that they dare not, hardly for their - lives, be too late at their work in the morning. When I have - been at the mills in the winter season, when the children are at - work in the evening, the very first thing they inquire is, "What - o'clock is it?" If we should answer, "Seven," they say, "Only - seven! it is a great while to ten, but we must not give up till - ten o'clock, or past." They look so anxious to know what o'clock - it is that I am convinced the children are fatigued, and think - that, even at seven, they have worked too long. My heart has - been ready to bleed for them when I have seen them so fatigued, - for they appear in such a state of apathy and insensibility as - really not to know whether they are doing their work or not. They - usually throw a bunch of ten or twelve cordings across the hand, - and take one off at a time; but I have seen the bunch entirely - finished, and they have attempted to take off another, when they - have not had a cording at all; they have been so fatigued as not - to know whether they were at work or not.' - - "'Do they frequently fall into errors and mistakes in piecing - when thus fatigued?' 'Yes; the errors they make when thus - fatigued are, that instead of placing the cording in this way, - (describing it,) they are apt to place them obliquely, and that - causes a flying, which makes bad yarn; and when the billy-spinner - sees that, he takes his strap, or the billy-roller, and says, - "Damn thee, close it; little devil, close it;" and they strike - the child with the strap or billy roller.' - - "'You have noticed this in the after part of the day more - particularly?' 'It is a very difficult thing to go into a mill in - the latter part of the day, particularly in winter, and not to - hear some of the children crying for being beaten for this very - fault.' - - "'How are they beaten?' 'That depends on the humanity of the - slubber or billy-spinner. Some have been beaten so violently that - they have lost their lives in consequence of being so beaten; - and even a young girl has had the end of a billy-roller jammed - through her cheek.' - - "'What is the billy-roller?' 'A heavy rod of from two to three - yards long, and of two inches in diameter, and with an iron - pivot at each end. It runs on the top of the cording, over the - feeding-cloth. I have seen them take the billy-roller and rap - them on the head, making their heads crack so that you might have - heard the blow at a distance of six or eight yards, in spite of - the din and rolling of the machinery. Many have been knocked down - by the instrument. I knew a boy very well, of the name of Senior, - with whom I went to school; he was struck with a billy-roller - on the elbow; it occasioned a swelling; he was not able to work - more than three or four weeks after the blow; and he died in - consequence. There was a woman in Holmfirth who was beaten very - much: I am not quite certain whether on the head; and she lost - her life in consequence of being beaten with a billy-roller. - That which was produced (showing one) is not the largest size; - there are some a foot longer than that; it is the most common - instrument with which these poor little pieceners are beaten, - more commonly than with either stick or strap.' - - "'How is it detached from the machinery?' 'Supposing this to be - the billy-frame, (describing it,) at each end there is a socket - open; the cording runs underneath here, just in this way, and - when the billy-spinner is angry, and sees the little piecener has - done wrong, he takes off this and says, "Damn thee, close it."' - - "'You have seen the poor children in this situation?' 'I have - seen them frequently struck with the billy-roller; I have seen - one so struck as to occasion its death; but I once saw a piecener - struck in the face by a billy-spinner with his hand, until its - nose bled very much; and when I said, "Oh dear, I would not - suffer a child of mine to be treated thus," the man has said "How - the devil do you know but what he deserved it? What have you to - do with it?"'" - -But the most complete evidence in regard to the slavery in the -factories was that given to the Parliamentary Committee, by a man -named Peter Smart, whose experience and observation as a slave and a -slave-driver in the factories of Scotland, enabled him to substantiate -all the charges made against the system. His history possesses the -deepest interest, and should be attentively perused:— - - "'Where do you reside?' 'At Dundee.' - - "'What age are you?' 'Twenty-seven.' - - "'What is your business?' 'An overseer of a flax-mill.' - - "'Have you worked in a mill from your youth?' 'Yes, since I was - five years of age.' - - "'Had you a father and mother in the country at that time?' 'My - mother stopped in Perth, about eleven miles from the mill, and my - father was in the army.' - - "'Were you hired for any length of time when you went?' 'Yes, my - mother got 15_s._ for six years, I having my meat and clothes.' - - "'At whose mill?' 'Mr. Andrew Smith's, at Gateside.' - - "'Is that in Fifeshire?' 'Yes.' - - "'What were your hours of labour, do you recollect, in that - mill?' 'In the summer season we were very scarce of water.' - - "'But when you had sufficient water, how long did you work?' 'We - began at four o'clock in the morning, and worked till ten or - eleven at night; as long as we could stand upon our feet.' - - "'You hardly could keep up for that length of time?' 'No, we - often fell asleep.' - - "'How were you kept to your work for that length of time; were - you chastised?' 'Yes, very often, and very severely.' - - "'How long was this ago?' 'It is between twenty-one and - twenty-two years since I first went.' - - "'Were you kept in the premises constantly?' 'Constantly.' - - "'Locked up?' 'Yes, locked up.' - - "'Night and day?' 'Night and day; I never went home while I was - at the mill.' - - "'Was it possible to keep up your activity for such a length of - time as that?' 'No, it was impossible to do it; we often fell - asleep.' - - "'Were not accidents then frequently occurring at that mill - from over-fatigue?' 'Yes, I got my hands injured there by the - machinery.' - - "'Have you lost any of your fingers?' 'Yes, I have lost one, and - the other hand is very much injured.' - - "'At what time of the night was that when your hands became thus - injured?' 'Twilight, between seven and eight o'clock.' - - "'Do you attribute that accident to over-fatigue and drowsiness?' - 'Yes, and to a want of knowledge of the machinery. I was only - five years old when I went to the mills, and I did not know the - use of the different parts of the machinery.' - - "'Did you ever know any other accident happen in that mill?' - 'Yes, there was a girl that fell off her stool when she was - piecing; she fell down and was killed on the spot.' - - "'Was that considered by the hands in the mill to have been - occasioned by drowsiness and excessive fatigue?' 'Yes.' - - "'How old were you at the time this took place?' 'I don't - know, for I have been so long in the mills that I have got no - education, and I have forgot the like of those things.' - - "'Have you any recollection of what the opinions of the people in - the mill were at that time as to the cause of the accident?' 'I - heard the rest of them talking about it, and they said that it - was so. We had long stools that we sat upon then, old-fashioned; - we have no such things as those now.' - - "'Is that the only accident that you have known to happen in that - mill?' 'There was a boy, shortly before I got my fingers hurt, - that had his fingers hurt in the same way that I had.' - - "'Was there any other killed?' 'There was one killed, but I could - not say how it was; but she was killed in the machinery.' - - "'Has any accident happened in that mill during the last twelve - years?' 'I could not say; it is twelve years since I left it.' - - "'Is that mill going on still?' 'Yes.' - - "'Speaking of the hours that you had to labour there, will you - state to this committee the effect it had upon you?' 'It had a - very great effect upon me; I was bad in my health.' - - "'Were you frequently much beaten, in order to keep you up to - your labour?' 'Yes; very often beat till I was bloody at the - mouth and at the nose, by the overseer and master too.' - - "'How did they beat you?' 'With their hands and with a leather - thong.' - - "'Were the children, generally speaking, treated as you have - stated you were?' 'Yes; generally; there are generally fifteen - boys in one, and a number of girls in the other; they were kept - separately.' - - "'You say you were locked up night and day?' 'Yes.' - - "'Do the children ever attempt to run away?' 'Very often.' - - "'Were they pursued and brought back again?' 'Yes, the overseer - pursued them, and brought them back.' - - "'Did you ever attempt to run away?' 'Yes, I ran away twice.' - - "'And you were brought back?' 'Yes; and I was sent up to the - master's loft, and thrashed with a whip for running away.' - - "'Were you bound to this man?' 'Yes, for six years.' - - "'By whom were you bound?' 'My mother got 15_s._ for the six - years.' - - "'Do you know whether the children were, in point of fact, - compelled to stop during the whole time for which they were - engaged?' 'Yes, they were.' - - "'By law?' 'I cannot say by law; but they were compelled by the - master; I never saw any law used there but the law of their own - hands.' - - "'Does that practice of binding continue in Scotland now?' 'Not - in the place I am in.' - - "'How long since it has ceased?' 'For the last two years there - has been no engagement in Dundee.' - - "'Are they generally engagements from week to week, or from month - to month?' 'From month to month.' - - "'Do you know whether a practice has prevailed of sending poor - children, who are orphans, from workhouses and hospitals to that - work?' 'There were fifteen, at the time I was there, came from - Edinburgh Poorhouse.' - - "'Do you know what the Poorhouse in Edinburgh is?' 'It is just a - house for putting poor orphans in.' - - "'Do you know the name of that establishment?' 'No.' - - "'Do you happen to know that these fifteen came to the mill from - an establishment for the reception of poor orphans?' 'Yes.' - - "'How many had you at the mill?' 'Fifteen.' - - "'At what ages?' 'From 12 to 15.' - - "'Were they treated in a similar manner to yourself?' 'Yes, we - were all treated alike; there was one treatment for all, from the - oldest to the youngest.' - - "'Did not some of you attempt, not merely to get out of the - mill, but out of the country?' 'Yes; I have known some go down - to the boat at Dundee, in order to escape by that means, and the - overseer has caught them there, and brought them back again.' - - "'Is there not a ferry there?' 'Yes.' - - "'When persons disembark there, they may embark on the ferry?' - 'Yes.' - - "'Did your parents live in Dundee at this time?' 'No.' - - "'Had you any friends at Dundee?' 'No.' - - "'The fact is, that you had nobody that could protect you?' 'No, - I had no protection; the first three years I was at the mill I - never saw my mother at all; and when I got this accident with my - hand she never knew of it.' - - "'Where did she reside at that time?' 'At Perth.' - - "'You say that your master himself was in the habit of treating - you in the way you have mentioned?' 'Yes.' - - "'Describe what the treatment was?' 'The treatment was very bad; - perhaps a box on the ear, or very frequently a kick with his - foot.' - - "'Were you punished for falling asleep in that mill?' 'Yes, I - have got my licks for it, and been punished very severely for it.' - - "'Where did you go to then?' 'I went to a mill in Argyleshire.' - - "'How many years were you in this mill of Mr. Andrew Smith's, of - Gateside?' 'Eleven years.' - - "'What age were you, when you went to this mill in Argyleshire?' - 'About 16.' - - "'You stated that you were bound to stay with Mr. Smith for six - years; how came you then to continue with him the remaining five - years?' 'At the end of those six years I got 3_l._ a year from my - master, and found my own clothes out of that.' - - "'Were you then contented with your situation?' 'No, I cannot say - that I was; but I did not know any thing of any other business.' - - "'You had not been instructed in any other business, and you did - not know where you could apply for a maintenance?' 'No.' - - "'To whose mill did you then remove?' 'To Messrs. Duff, Taylor & - Co., at Ruthven, Forfarshire.' - - "'What were your hours of labour there?' 'Fourteen hours.' - - "'Exclusive of the time for meals and refreshment?' 'Yes.' - - "'Was that a flax mill?' 'Yes.' - - "'Did you work for that number of hours both winter and summer?' - 'Yes, both winter and summer.' - - "'How old were you at this time?' 'Sixteen.' - - "'Are you aware whether any increase was made in the number of - hours of work, in the year 1819, by an agreement between the - masters and the workmen?' 'No, I cannot say as to that.' - - "'You think there could not be much increase of your previous - labour, whatever agreement might have been made upon the - subject?' 'No, there could have been no increase made to that; it - was too long for that.' - - "'Were the hands chastised up to their labour in that mill?' - 'Yes.' - - "'That was the practice there also?' 'Yes.' - - "'Do you mean to state that you were treated with great cruelty - at the age of 16, and that you still remain in the mill?' 'I was - not beaten so severely as I was in Fifeshire.' - - "'You were not so beaten as to induce you to leave that mill?' - 'If I had left it, I did not know where to go.' - - "'Did you try to get into any other occupation?' 'Yes, I went - apprentice to a flax-dresser at that time.' - - "'What was the reason that you did not keep at it?' 'My hand was - so disabled, that it was found I was not able to follow that - business.' - - "'You found you could not get your bread at that business?' 'Yes.' - - "'Consequently, you were obliged to go back to the mills?' 'Yes.' - - "'Was it the custom, when you were 16 years of age, for the - overseer to beat you?' 'Yes, the boys were often beaten very - severely in the mill.' - - "'At this time you were hired for wages; how much had you?' - 'Half-a-crown a week.' - - "'And your maintenance?' 'No, I maintained myself.' - - "'Is not that much lower than the wages now given to people of - sixteen years of age?' 'I have a boy about sixteen that has 4_s._ - 6_d._ a week, but he is in a high situation; he is oiler of the - machinery.' - - "'Besides, you have been injured in your hand by the accident to - which you have alluded, and that probably might have interfered - with the amount of your wages?' 'Yes.' - - "'What duty had you in the mill at this time, for the performance - of which you received 2_s._ 6_d._ a week, when you were at Duff, - Taylor & Co.'s?' 'I was a card-feeder.' - - "'Did your hand prevent you working at that time as well as other - boys of the same age, in feeding the cards?' 'Yes, on the old - system; I was not able to feed with a stick at that time; it is - done away with now.' - - "'How long did you stay there?' 'About fifteen months.' - - "'How many hours did you work there?' 'Fourteen.' - - "'Do you mean that you worked fourteen hours actual labour?' - 'Yes.' - - "'Was it a water-mill?' 'Yes.' - - "'Were you ever short of water?' 'We had plenty of water.' - - "'How long did you stop for dinner?' 'Half an hour.' - - "'What time had you for breakfast, or for refreshment in the - afternoon?' 'We had no time for that.' - - "'Did you eat your breakfast and dinner in the mill then?' 'No, - we went to the victualling house.' - - "'Was that some building attached to the mill?' 'Yes, at a a - small distance from the mill.' - - "'Was it provided for the purpose of the mill?' 'Yes, we got our - bread and water there.' - - "'Did you sleep in a bothy at Duff & Taylor's?' 'Yes.' - - "'Were you locked up in a bothy?' 'No.' - - "'What is a bothy?' 'It is a house with beds all round.' - - "'Is it not the practice for farm-servants, and others, who are - unmarried, to sleep in such places?' 'I could not say as to that; - I am not acquainted with the farm system.' - - "'To what mill did you next go?' 'To Mr. Webster's, at Battus - Den, within eleven miles of Dundee.' - - "'In what situation did you act there?' 'I acted as an overseer.' - - "'At 17 years of age?' 'Yes.' - - "'Did you inflict the same punishment that you yourself had - experienced?' 'I went as an overseer; not as a slave, but as a - slave-driver.' - - "'What were the hours of labour in that mill?' 'My master told - me that I had to produce a certain quantity of yarn; the hours - were at that time fourteen; I said that I was not able to produce - the quantity of yarn that was required; I told him if he took - the timepiece out of the mill I would produce that quantity, and - after that time I found no difficulty in producing the quantity.' - - "'How long have you worked per day in order to produce the - quantity your master required?' 'I have wrought nineteen hours.' - - "'Was this a water-mill?' 'Yes, water and steam both.' - - "'To what time have you worked?' 'I have seen the mill going till - it was past 12 o'clock on the Saturday night.' - - "'So that the mill was still working on the Sabbath morning.' - 'Yes.' - - "'Were the workmen paid by the piece, or by the day?' 'No, all - had stated wages.' - - "'Did not that almost compel you to use great severity to the - hands then under you?' 'Yes; I was compelled often to beat them, - in order to get them to attend to their work, from their being - overwrought.' - - "'Were not the children exceedingly fatigued at that time?' 'Yes, - exceedingly fatigued.' - - "'Were the children bound in the same way in that mill?' 'No; - they were bound from one year's end to another, for twelve - months.' - - "'Did you keep the hands locked up in the same way in that mill?' - 'Yes, we locked up the mill; but we did not lock the bothy.' - - "'Did you find that the children were unable to pursue their - labour properly to that extent?' 'Yes; they have been brought to - that condition, that I have gone and fetched up the doctor to - them, to see what was the matter with them, and to know whether - they were able to rise, or not able to rise; they were not at all - able to rise; we have had great difficulty in getting them up.' - - "'When that was the case, how long have they been in bed, - generally speaking?' 'Perhaps not above four or five hours in - their beds. Sometimes we were very ill-plagued by men coming - about the females' bothy.' - - "'Were your hands principally girls?' 'Girls and boys all - together; we had only a very few boys.' - - "'Did the boys sleep in the girls' bothy?' 'Yes, all together.' - - "'Do you mean to say that there was only one bothy for the girls - and for the boys who worked there?' 'Yes.' - - "'What age were those girls and boys?' 'We had them from 8 to 20 - years of age; and the boys were from 10 to 14, or thereabouts.' - - "'You spoke of men who came about the bothy; did the girls expect - them?' 'Yes; of course they had their sweethearts.' - - "'Did they go into the bothy?' 'Yes; and once I got a sore - beating from one of them, for ordering him out of the bothy.' - - "'How long were you in that mill?' 'Three years and nine months.' - - "'And where did you go to next?' 'To Messrs. Anderson & Company, - at Moneyfieth, about six miles from Dundee.' - - "'What were your hours of labour there?' 'Fifteen hours.' - - "'Exclusive of the hour for refreshment?' 'Yes; we seldom stopped - for refreshment there.' - - "'You worked without any intermission at all, frequently?' 'Yes; - we made a turn-about.' - - "'Explain what you mean by a turn-about?' 'We let them out by - turns in the days.' - - "'How long did you let one go out?' 'Just as short a time as they - could have to take their victuals in.' - - "'What were the ages of the children principally employed in that - place?' 'From about 12 to 20; they were all girls that I had - there, except one boy, and I think he was 8 years of age.' - - "'Was this a flax-mill?' 'Yes, all flax.' - - "'Did you find that the children there were exceedingly - distressed with their work?' 'Yes; for the mill being in the - country, we were very scarce of workers, and the master often - came out and compelled them by flattery to go and work half the - night after their day's labour, and then they had only the other - half to sleep.' - - "'You mean that the master induced them by offering them extra - wages to go to work half the night?' 'Yes.' - - "'Was that very prejudicial to the girls so employed?' 'Yes; I - have seen some girls that were working half the night, that have - fainted and fallen down at their work, and have had to be carried - out.' - - "'Did you use severity in that mill?' 'No, I was not very severe - there.' - - "'You find, perhaps, that the girls do not require that severity - that the boys do?' 'Yes.' - - "'How large was that mill?' 'There were only eighteen of us - altogether.' - - "'From what you have seen, should you say that the treatment of - the children and the hours of labour are worse in the small or in - the large mills?' 'I could not answer that question.' - - "'Have you ever been in any large mill?' 'Yes, I am in one just - now, Mr. Baxter's.' - - "'Is the treatment of the children better in that large mill than - in the smaller mills in which you have been usually?' 'There is - little difference; the treatment is all one.' - - "'To whose mill did you next go?' 'To Messrs. Baxter & Brothers, - at Dundee.' - - "'State the hours of labour which you worked when you were there, - when trade was brisk?' 'Thirteen hours and twenty minutes.' - - "'What time was allowed for meals?' 'Fifty minutes each day.' - - "'Have you found that the system is getting any better now?' 'No, - the system is getting no better with us.' - - "'Is there as much beating as there was?' 'There is not so much - in the licking way.' - - "'But it is not entirely abolished, the system of chastisement?' - 'No, it is far from that.' - - "'Do you think that, where young children are employed, that - system ought, or can be, entirely dispensed with, of giving - some chastisement to the children of that age?' 'They would not - require chastisement if they had shorter daily work.' - - "'Do you mean to state that they are only chastised because - through weariness they are unable to attend to their work, and - that they are not chastised for other faults and carelessness as - well?' 'There may be other causes besides, but weariness is the - principal fault.' - - "'Does not that over-labour induce that weariness and incapacity - to do the work, which brings upon them chastisement at other - parts of the day as well as in the evening?' 'Yes; young girls, - if their work go wrong, if they see me going round, and my - countenance with the least frown upon it, they will begin crying - when I go by.' - - "'Then they live in a state of perpetual alarm and suffering?' - 'Yes.' - - "'Do you think that those children are healthy?' 'No, they are - far from that; I have two girls that have been under me these - two years; the one is 13 years, the other 15, and they are both - orphans and sisters, and both one size, and they very seldom are - working together, because the one or the other is generally ill; - and they are working for 3_s._ 6_d._ a week.' - - "'Have you the same system of locking up now?' 'Yes, locking up - all day.' - - "'Are they locked up at night?' 'No; after they have left their - work we have nothing more to do with them.' - - "'What time do they leave their work in the evening now?' 'About - 20 minutes past 7.' - - "'What time do they go to it in the morning?' 'Five minutes - before 5.' - - "'Do you conceive that that is at all consistent with the health - of those children?' 'It is certainly very greatly against their - health.' - - "'Is not the flax-spinning business in itself very unwholesome?' - 'Very unwholesome.' - -So much for the slavery of the factories—a slavery which destroys -human beings, body and soul. The fate of the helpless children -condemned to such protracted, exhausting toil, under such demoralizing -influences, with the lash constantly impending over them, and no -alternative but starvation, is enough to excite the tears of all -humane persons. That such a system should be tolerated in a land -where a Christian church is a part of the government, is indeed -remarkable—proving how greatly men are disinclined to practise what -they profess. - -We cannot close this chapter upon the British factories without making -a quotation from a work which, we fear, has been too little read in -the United Kingdom—a fiction merely in construction, a truthful -narrative in fact. We allude to "The Life and Adventures of Michael -Armstrong, the Factory Boy," by Frances Trollope. Copious editions of -this heart-rending story should be immediately issued by the British -publishers. This passage, describing the visit of Michael Armstrong -to the cotton factory, in company with Sir Matthew Dowling and Dr. -Crockley, is drawn to the life:— - - "The party entered the building, whence—as all know who have - done the like—every sight, every sound, every scent that kind - nature has fitted to the organs of her children, so as to render - the mere unfettered use of them a delight, are banished for ever - and for ever. The ceaseless whirring of a million hissing wheels - seizes on the tortured ear; and while threatening to destroy - the delicate sense, seems bent on proving first, with a sort - of mocking mercy, of how much suffering it can be the cause. - The scents that reek around, from oil, tainted water, and human - filth, with that last worst nausea arising from the hot refuse of - atmospheric air, left by some hundred pairs of labouring lungs, - render the act of breathing a process of difficulty, disgust, and - pain. All this is terrible. But what the eye brings home to the - heart of those who look round upon the horrid earthly hell, is - enough to make it all forgotten; for who can think of villanous - smells, or heed the suffering of the ear-racking sounds, while - they look upon hundreds of helpless children, divested of every - trace of health, of joyousness, and even of youth! Assuredly - there is no exaggeration in this; for except only in their - diminutive size, these suffering infants have no trace of it. - Lean and distorted limbs, sallow and sunken cheeks, dim hollow - eyes, that speak unrest and most unnatural carefulness, give to - each tiny, trembling, unelastic form, a look of hideous premature - old age. - - "But in the room they entered, the dirty, ragged, miserable - crew were all in active performance of their various tasks; the - overlookers, strap in hand, on the alert; the whirling spindles - urging the little slaves who waited on them to movements as - unceasing as their own; and the whole monstrous chamber redolent - of all the various impurities that 'by the perfection of our - manufacturing system' are converted into 'gales of Araby' for - the rich, after passing, in the shape of certain poison, through - the lungs of the poor. So Sir Matthew proudly looked about him - and approved; and though it was athwart that species of haughty - frown in which such dignity as his is apt to clothe itself, Dr. - Crockley failed not to perceive that his friend and patron was - in good humour, and likely to be pleased by any light and lively - jestings in which he might indulge. Perceiving, therefore, that - little Michael passed on with downcast eyes, unrecognised by any, - he wrote upon a slip of paper, for he knew his voice could not be - heard—'Make the boy take that bare-legged scavenger wench round - the neck, and give her a kiss while she is next lying down, and - let us see them sprawling together.' - - "Sir Matthew read the scroll, and grinned applause. - - "The miserable creature to whom the facetious doctor pointed, was - a little girl about seven years old, whose office as 'scavenger' - was to collect incessantly, from the machinery and from the - floor, the flying fragments of cotton that might impede the work. - In the performance of this duty, the child was obliged, from time - to time, to stretch itself with sudden quickness on the ground, - while the hissing machinery passed over her; and when this is - skilfully done, and the head, body, and outstretched limbs - carefully glued to the floor, the steady-moving but threatening - mass may pass and repass over the dizzy head and trembling body - without touching it. But accidents frequently occur; and many are - the flaxen locks rudely torn from infant heads, in the process. - - "It was a sort of vague hope that something comical of this kind - might occur, which induced Dr. Crockley to propose this frolic to - his friend, and probably the same idea suggested itself to Sir - Matthew likewise. - - "'I say, Master Michael!' vociferated the knight, in a scream - which successfully struggled with the din, 'show your old - acquaintance that pride has not got the upper hand of you in - your fine clothes. Take scavenger No. 3, there, round the neck; - now—now—now, as she lies sprawling, and let us see you give her - a hearty kiss.' - - "The stern and steady machinery moved onward, passing over the - body of the little girl, who owed her safety to the miserable - leanness of her shrunken frame; but Michael moved not. - - "'Are you deaf, you little vermin?' roared Sir Matthew. 'Now - she's down again. Do what I bid you, or, by the living God, you - shall smart for it!' - - "Still Michael did not stir, neither did he speak; or if he - did, his young voice was wholly inaudible, and the anger of Sir - Matthew was demonstrated by a clenched fist and threatening brow. - 'Where the devil is Parsons?' he demanded, in accents that poor - Michael both heard and understood. 'Fine as he is, the strap will - do him good.' - - "In saying this, the great man turned to reconnoitre the space - he had traversed, and by which his confidential servant must - approach, and found that he was already within a good yard of him. - - "'That's good—I want you, Parsons. Do you see this little - rebel here, that I have dressed and treated like one of my own - children? What d'ye think of his refusing to kiss Miss No. 3, - scavenger, when I bid him?' - - "'The devil he does?' said the manager, grinning: 'we must see if - we can't mend that. Mind your hits, Master Piecer, and salute the - young lady when the mules go back, like a gentleman.' - - "Sir Matthew perceived that his favourite agent feared to enforce - his first brutal command, and was forced, therefore, to content - himself with seeing the oiled and grimy face of the filthy little - girl in contact with that of the now clean and delicate-looking - Michael. But he felt he had been foiled, and cast a glance upon - his _protégé_, which seemed to promise that he would not forget - it." - -Nor is the delineation, in the following verses, by Francis M. Blake, -less truthful and touching:— - -THE FACTORY CHILD. - - Early one winter's morning, - The weather wet and wild, - Some hours before the dawning, - A father call'd his child; - Her daily morsel bringing, - The darksome room he paced, - And cried, "The bell is ringing— - My hapless darling, haste." - - "Father, I'm up, but weary, - I scarce can reach the door, - And long the way and dreary— - Oh, carry me once more! - To help us we've no mother, - To live how hard we try— - They kill'd my little brother— - Like him I'll work and die!" - - His feeble arms they bore her, - The storm was loud and wild— - God of the poor man, hear him! - He prays, "Oh, save my child!" - Her wasted form seem'd nothing— - The load was in his heart; - The sufferer he kept soothing, - Till at the mill they part. - - The overlooker met her, - As to the frame she crept, - And with the thong he beat her, - And cursed her as she wept. - Alas! what hours of horror - Made up her latest day! - In toil, and pain, and sorrow, - They slowly pass'd away. - - It seem'd, as she grew weaker, - The threads the oftener broke, - The rapid wheels ran quicker, - And heavier fell the stroke. - The sun had long descended, - But night brought no repose: - _Her_ day began and ended - As her task-masters chose. - - Then to her little neighbour - Her only cent she paid, - To take her last hour's labour, - While by her frame she laid. - At last, the engine ceasing, - The captives homeward flee, - One thought her strength increasing— - Her parent soon to see. - - She left, but oft she tarried, - She fell, and rose no more, - But by her comrades carried, - She reach'd her father's door. - All night with tortured feeling, - He watch'd his speechless child; - While close beside her kneeling, - She knew him not, nor smiled. - - Again the loud bell's ringing, - Her last perceptions tried, - When, from her straw bed springing, - "'Tis time!" she shriek'd, and—died. - That night a chariot pass'd her, - While on the ground she lay, - The daughters of her master - An evening visit pay; - Their tender hearts were sighing, - As negro wrongs were told, - While the white slave was dying, - Who gain'd their father's gold! - - - - -CHAPTER IV. - -SLAVERY IN THE BRITISH WORKSHOPS. - - -When Captain Hugh Clapperton, the celebrated English traveller, -visited Bello, the sultan of the Felatahs, at Sackatoo, he made -the monarch some presents, in the name of his majesty the king of -England. These were—two new blunderbusses, a pair of double-barrelled -pistols, a pocket compass, an embroidered jacket, a scarlet bornonse, -a pair of scarlet breeches, thirty-four yards of silk, two turban -shawls, four pounds of cloves, four pounds of cinnamon, three cases -of gunpowder with shot and balls, three razors, three clasp-knives, -three looking-glasses, six snuff-boxes, a spy-glass, and a large -tea-tray. The sultan said—"Every thing is wonderful, but you are the -greatest curiosity of all!" and then added, "What can I give that is -most acceptable to the king of England?" Clapperton replied—"The -most acceptable service you can render to the king of England is to -co-operate with his majesty in putting a stop to the slave-trade on the -coast, as the king of England sends large ships to cruise there, for -the sole purpose of seizing all vessels engaged in this trade, whose -crews are thrown into prison, and of liberating the unfortunate slaves, -on whom lands and houses are conferred, at one of our settlements in -Africa." "What!" exclaimed the sultan, "have you no slaves in England?" -"No: whenever a slave sets his foot in England, he is from that moment -free," replied Clapperton. "What do you then do for servants?" inquired -the sultan. "We hire them for a stated period, and give them regular -wages; nor is any person in England allowed to strike another; and the -very soldiers are fed, clothed, and paid by the government," replied -the English captain. "God is great!" exclaimed the sultan. "You are -a beautiful people." Clapperton had succeeded in putting a beautiful -illusion upon the sultan's imagination, as some English writers have -endeavoured to do among the civilized nations of the earth. If the -sultan had been taken to England, to see the freedom of the "servants" -in the workshops, perhaps he would have exclaimed—"God is great! -Slaves are plenty." - -The condition of the apprentices in the British workshops is at -least as bad as that of the children in the factories. According to -the second report of the commissioners appointed by Parliament, the -degrading system of involuntary apprenticeship—in many cases without -the consent of parents—and merely according to the regulations of the -brutal guardians of the workhouses, is general. The commissioners say— - - "That in some trades, those especially requiring skilled workmen, - these apprentices are bound by legal indentures, usually at the - age of fourteen, and for a term of seven years, the age being - rarely younger, and the period of servitude very seldom longer; - but by far the greater number are bound _without any prescribed - legal forms_, and in almost all these cases they are required to - serve their masters, _at whatever age they may commence their - apprenticeship, until they attain the age of twenty-one_, in some - instances in employments in which there is nothing deserving - the name of skill to be acquired, and in other instances in - employments in which they are taught to make only one particular - part of the article manufactured: _so that at the end of their - servitude they are altogether unable to make any one article of - their trade in a complete state_. That a large proportion of - these apprentices consist of orphans, or are the children of - widows, or belong to the very poorest families, and frequently - are apprenticed by boards of guardians. - - "That in these districts it is common for parents to borrow money - of the employers, and to stipulate, by express agreement, to - repay it from their children's wages; a practice which prevails - likewise in Birmingham and Warrington: in most other places no - evidence was discovered of its existence."—_Second Report of the - Commissioners_, p. 195, 196. - -Here we have a fearful text on which to comment. In these few sentences -we see the disclosure of a system which, if followed out and abused, -must produce a state of slavery of the very worst and most oppressive -character. To show that it _is_ thus abused, here are some extracts -from the Reports on the Wolverhampton district, to which the Central -Board of Commissioners direct special attention:— - - "The peculiar trade of the Wolverhampton district, with the - exception of a very few large proprietors, is in the hands of - a great number of small masters, who are personally known only - to some of the foremen of the factors to whom they take their - work, and scarcely one of whom is sufficiently important to have - his name over his door or his workshop in front of a street. - In the town of Wolverhampton alone there are of these small - masters, for example, two hundred and sixty locksmiths, sixty - or seventy key-makers, from twenty to thirty screwmakers, and a - like number of latch, bolt, snuffer, tobacco-box, and spectacle - frame and case makers. Each of these small masters, if they have - not children of their own, generally employ from one to three - apprentices."—_Horne, Report_; App. pt. ii. p. 2. s. 13 et seq. - -The workshops of the small masters are usually of the dirtiest, most -dilapidated, and confined description, and situated in the most filthy -and undrained localities, at the back of their wretched abodes. - - "There are two modes of obtaining apprentices in this district, - namely, the legal one of application to magistrates or boards of - guardians for sanction of indentures; and, secondly, the illegal - mode of taking the children to be bound by an attorney, without - any such reference to the proper authorities. There are many more - bound by this illegal mode than by the former. - - "In all cases, the children, of whatever age, are bound till - they attain the age of twenty-one years. If the child be only - seven years of age, the period of servitude remains the same, - however simple the process or nature of the trade to be learnt. - During the first year or two, if the apprentice be very young, - he is merely used to run errands, do dirty household work, nurse - infants, &c. - - "If the master die before the apprentice attain the age of - twenty-one years, the apprentice is equally bound as the servant - of his deceased master's heirs, executors, administrators, - and assigns—in fact, the apprentice is part of the deceased - master's goods and chattels. Whoever, therefore, may carry on - the trade, he is the servant of such person or persons until his - manumission is obtained by reaching his one-and-twentieth year. - The apprentice has no regular pocket-money allowed him by the - master. Sometimes a few halfpence are given to him. An apprentice - of eighteen or nineteen years of age often has 2_d._ or 3_d._ a - week given him, but never as a rightful claim."—_Second Report - of Commissioners._ - - "Among other witnesses, the superintendent registrar states that - in those trades particularly in which the work is by the piece, - the growth of the children is injured; that in these cases more - especially their strength is over-taxed for profit. One of the - constables of the town says that 'there are examples without - number in the place, of deformed men and boys; their backs or - their legs, and often both, grow wrong; the backs grow out and - the legs grow in at the knees—hump-backed and knock-kneed. - There is most commonly only one leg turned in—a K leg; it is - occasioned by standing all day for years filing at a vice; the - hind leg grows in—the leg that is hindermost. Thinks that among - the adults of the working classes of Willenhall, whose work is - all forging and filing, one-third of the number are afflicted - with hernia,' &c."—_Horne, Evidence_, p. 28, No. 128. - -As the profits of many of the masters are small, it may be supposed -that the apprentices do not get the best of food, shelter, and -clothing. We have the evidence of Henry Nicholls Payne, superintendent -registrar of Wolverhampton, Henry Hill, Esq., magistrate, and Paul Law, -of Wolverhampton, that it is common for masters to buy offal meat, and -the meat of animals that have died from all manner of causes, for the -food of apprentices. The clothing of these poor creatures is but thin -tatters for all seasons. The apprentices constantly complain that they -do not get enough to eat. - - "They are frequently fed," says the sub-commissioner, "especially - during the winter season, on red herrings, potatoes, bread with - lard upon it, and have not always sufficient even of this. - - "Their living is poor; they have not enough to eat. Did not know - what it was to have butcher's meat above once a week; often a red - herring was divided between two for dinner. The boys are often - clemmed, (almost starved;) have often been to his house to ask - for a bit of pudding—are frequent complaints. In some trades, - particularly in the casting-shops of founderies, in the shops in - which general forge or smith's work is done, and in the shops - of the small locksmiths, screwmakers, &c., there are no regular - meal-hours, but the children swallow their food as they can, - during their work, often while noxious fumes or dust are flying - about, and perhaps with noxious compositions in their unwashed - hands." - -The apprentices employed in nail-making are described as so many -poorly fed and poorly clad slaves. Almost the whole population of -Upper Sedgley and Upper Gormal, and nearly one-half of the population -of Coseley, are employed in nail-making. The nails are made at forges -by the hammer, and these forges, which are the workshops, are usually -at the backs of the wretched hovels in which the work-people reside. -"The best kind of forges," says Mr. Horne, "are little brick shops, of -about fifteen feet long and twelve feet wide, in which seven or eight -individuals constantly work together, with no ventilation except the -door, and two slits, or loopholes, in the wall; but the great majority -of these work-places are very much smaller, (about ten feet long by -nine wide,) filthily dirty; and on looking in upon one of them when -the fire is not lighted, presents the appearance of a dilapidated -coal-hole, or little black den." In these places children are first put -to labour from the ages of seven to eight, where they continue to work -daily, from six o'clock in the morning till seven or eight at night; -and on weigh-days—the days the nails are taken to the factors—from -three or four in the morning till nine at night. They gradually advance -in the number of nails they are required to make per day, till they -arrive at the _stint_ of one thousand. A girl or boy of from ten to -twelve years of age continually accomplishes this arduous task from day -to day, and week to week. Their food at the same time is, in general, -insufficient, their clothing miserable, and the wretchedness of their -dwellings almost unparalleled. - - "Throughout the long descent of the main roadway, or rather - sludgeway, of Lower Gormal," says Mr. Horne, "and throughout the - very long winding and straggling roadway of Coseley, I never saw - one abode of a working family which had the least appearance of - comfort or wholesomeness, while the immense majority were of - the most wretched and sty-like description. The effect of these - unfavourable circumstances is greatly to injure the health of the - children, and to stop their growth; and it is remarkable that - the boys are more injured than the girls, because the girls are - not put to work as early as the boys by two years or more. They - appear to bear the heat of the forges better, and they sometimes - even become strong by their work." - -The children employed in nail-making, in Scotland, evince the nature -of their toil by their emaciated looks and stunted growth. They are -clothed in apparel in which many paupers would not dress; and they are -starved into quickness at their work, as their meals depend on the -quantity of work accomplished. - -In the manufacture of earthenware there are many young slaves employed. -The mould-runners are an especially pitiable class of workmen; they -receive on a mould the ware as it is formed by the workmen, and carry -it to the stove-room, where both mould and ware are arranged on shelves -to dry. The same children liberate the mould when sufficiently dry, -and carry it back to receive a fresh supply of ware, to be in like -manner deposited on the shelves. They are also generally required by -the workmen to "wedge their clay;" that is, to lift up large lumps of -clay, which are to be thrown down forcibly on a hard surface to free -the clay from air and to render it more compact. Excepting when thus -engaged, they are constantly "on the run" from morning till night, -always carrying a considerable weight. These children are generally -pale, thin, weak, and unhealthy. - -In the manufacture of glass the toil and suffering of the apprentices, -as recorded in the evidence before the commissioners, are extreme. One -witness said— - - "From his experience he thinks the community has no idea of what - a boy at a bottle-work goes through; 'it would never be allowed, - if it were known;' he knows himself; he has been carried home - from fair fatigue; and on two several occasions, when laid in - bed, could not rest, and had to be taken out and laid on the - floor. These boys begin work on Sabbath evenings at ten o'clock, - and are not at home again till between one and three on Monday - afternoon. The drawing the bottles out of the arches is a work - which no child should be allowed, on any consideration, to do; - he himself has been obliged several times to have planks put in - to walk on, which have caught fire under the feet; and a woollen - cap over the ears and always mits on the hands; and a boy cannot - generally stop in them above five minutes. There is no man that - works in a bottle-work, but will corroborate the statement that - such work checks the growth of the body; the irregularity and the - unnatural times of work cause the boys and men to feel in a sort - of stupor or dulness from heavy sweats and irregular hours. The - boys work harder than any man in the works; all will allow that. - From their experience of the bad effect on the health, witness - and five others left the work, and none but one ever went to a - bottle-work after." - -The young females apprenticed to dressmakers suffer greatly from -over-work and bad treatment, as has long been known. John Dalrymple, -Esq., Assistant Surgeon, Royal London Ophthalmic Hospital, narrates the -following case:— - - "A delicate and beautiful young woman, an orphan, applied at - the hospital for very defective vision, and her symptoms were - precisely as just described. Upon inquiry it was ascertained that - she had been apprenticed to a milliner, and was in her last year - of indentureship. Her working hours were eighteen in the day, - occasionally even more; her meals were snatched with scarcely an - interval of a few minutes from work, and her general health was - evidently assuming a tendency to consumption. An appeal was made, - by my directions, to her mistress for relaxation; but the reply - was that, in the last year of her apprenticeship, her labours had - become valuable, and that her mistress was entitled to them as a - recompense for teaching. Subsequently a threat of appeal to the - Lord Mayor, and a belief that a continuation of the occupation - would soon render the apprentice incapable of labour, induced the - mistress to cancel the indentures, and the victim was saved." - -Frederick Tyrrell, Esq., Surgeon to the London Ophthalmic Hospital, and -to St. Thomas's Hospital, mentions a case equally distressing:— - - "A fair and delicate girl, about seventeen years of age, was - brought to witness in consequence of total loss of vision. She - had experienced the train of symptoms which have been detailed, - to the fullest extent. On examination, both eyes were found - disorganized, and recovery therefore was hopeless. She had been - an apprentice as a dress-maker at the west end of the town; and - some time before her vision became affected, her general health - had been materially deranged from too close confinement and - excessive work. The immediate cause of the disease in the eyes - was excessive and continued application to making mourning. She - stated that she had been compelled to remain without changing - her dress for nine days and nights consecutively; that during - this period she had been permitted only occasionally to rest on a - mattrass placed on the floor, for an hour or two at a time; and - that her meals were placed at her side, cut up, so that as little - time as possible should be spent in their consumption. Witness - regrets that he did not, in this and a few other cases nearly as - flagrant and distressing, induce the sufferers to appeal to a - jury for compensation." - -It may be asserted, without fear of successful contradiction, that, -in proportion to the numbers employed, there are no occupations in -which so much disease is produced as in dress-making. The report of a -sub-commissioner states that it is a "serious aggravation of this evil, -that the unkindness of the employer very frequently causes these young -persons, when they become unwell, to conceal their illness, from the -fear of being sent out of the house; and in this manner the disease -often becomes increased in severity, or is even rendered incurable. -Some of the principals are so cruel, as to object to the young women -obtaining medical assistance." - -[Illustration: SLAVES OF THE NEEDLE.] - -The London Times, in an exceedingly able article upon "Seamstress -Slavery," thus describes the terrible system:— - - "Granting that the negro gangs who are worked on the cotton - grounds of the Southern States of North America, or in the sugar - plantations of Brazil, are slaves, in what way should we speak - of persons who are circumstanced in the manner we are about - to relate? Let us consider them as inhabitants of a distant - region—say of New Orleans—no matter about the colour of their - skins, and then ask ourselves what should be our opinion of a - nation in which such things are tolerated. They are of a sex - and age the least qualified to struggle with the hardships of - their lot—young women, for the most part, between sixteen and - thirty years of age. As we would not deal in exaggerations, we - would promise that we take them at their busy season, just as - writers upon American slavery are careful to select the season - of cotton-picking and sugar-crushing as illustrations of their - theories. The young female slaves, then, of whom we speak, are - worked in gangs, in ill-ventilated rooms, or rooms that are not - ventilated at all; for it is found by experience that if air - be admitted it brings with it "blacks" of another kind, which - damage the work upon which the seamstresses are employed. Their - occupation is to sew from morning till night and night till - morning—stitch, stitch, stitch—without pause, without speech, - without a smile, without a sigh. In the gray of the morning they - must be at work, say at six o'clock, having a quarter of an hour - allowed them for breaking their fast. The food served out to them - is scanty and miserable enough, but still, in all probability, - more than their fevered system can digest. We do not, however, - wish to make out a case of starvation; the suffering is of - another kind, equally dreadful of endurance. From six o'clock - till eleven it is stitch, stitch. At eleven a small piece of dry - bread is served to each seamstress, but still she must stitch - on. At one o'clock, twenty minutes are allowed for dinner—a - slice of meat and a potato, with a glass of toast-and-water to - each workwoman. Then again to work—stitch, stitch, until five - o'clock, when fifteen minutes are again allowed for tea. The - needles are then set in motion once more—stitch, stitch, until - nine o'clock, when fifteen minutes are allowed for supper—a - piece of dry bread and cheese and a glass of beer. From nine - o'clock at night until one, two, and three o'clock in the - morning, stitch, stitch; the only break in this long period being - a minute or two—just time enough to swallow a cup of strong tea, - which is supplied lest the young people should 'feel sleepy.' At - three o'clock A.M., to bed; at six o'clock A.M., out of it again - to resume the duties of the following day. There must be a good - deal of monotony in the occupation. - - "But when we have said that for certain months in the year these - unfortunate young persons are worked in the manner we describe, - we have not said all. Even during the few hours allotted - to sleep—should we not rather say to a feverish cessation - from toil—their miseries continue. They are cooped up in - sleeping-pens, ten in a room which would perhaps be sufficient - for the accommodation of two persons. The alternation is from the - treadmill—and what a treadmill!—to the Black Hole of Calcutta. - Not a word of remonstrance is allowed, or is possible. The - seamstresses may leave the mill, no doubt, but what awaits them - on the other side of the door?—starvation, if they be honest; - if not, in all probability, prostitution and its consequence. - They would scarcely escape from slavery that way. Surely this - is a terrible state of things, and one which claims the anxious - consideration of the ladies of England who have pronounced - themselves so loudly against the horrors of negro slavery in the - United States. Had this system of oppression against persons of - their own sex been really exercised in New Orleans, it would - have elicited from them many expressions of sympathy for the - sufferers, and of abhorrence for the cruel task-masters who could - so cruelly over-work wretched creatures so unfitted for the toil. - It is idle to use any further mystification in the matter. The - scenes of misery we have described exist at our own doors, and in - the most fashionable quarters of luxurious London. It is in the - dress-making and millinery establishments of the 'West-end' that - the system is steadily pursued. The continuous labour is bestowed - upon the gay garments in which the 'ladies of England' love to - adorn themselves. It is to satisfy their whims and caprices that - their wretched sisters undergo these days and nights of suffering - and toil. It is but right that we should confess the fault - does not lie so much at the door of the customers as with the - principals of these establishments. The milliners and dressmakers - of the metropolis will not employ hands enough to do the work. - They increase their profits from the blood and life of the - wretched creatures in their employ. Certainly the prices charged - for articles of dress at any of the great West-end establishments - are sufficiently high—as most English heads of families know to - their cost—to enable the proprietors to retain a competent staff - of work-people, and at the same time to secure a very handsome - profit to themselves. Wherein, then, lies the remedy? Will the - case of these poor seamstresses be bettered if the ladies of - England abstain partially, or in great measure, from giving their - usual orders to their usual houses? In that case it may be said - some of the seamstresses will be dismissed to starvation, and - the remainder will be over-worked as before. We freely confess - we do not see our way through the difficulty; for we hold the - most improbable event in our social arrangements to be the fact, - that a lady of fashion will employ a second-rate instead of a - first-rate house for the purchase of her annual finery. The - leading milliners and dressmakers of London have hold of English - society at both ends. They hold the ladies by their vanity and - their love of fine clothes, and the seamstresses by what appears - to be their interest and by their love of life. Now, love of fine - clothes and love of life are two very strong motive springs of - human action." - -In confirmation of this thrilling representation of the seamstress -slavery in London, the following letter subsequently appeared in the -Times:— - - "_To the Editor of the Times_: - - "Sir,—May I beg of you to insert this letter in your valuable - paper at your earliest convenience, relative to the letters of - the 'First Hand?' I can state, without the slightest hesitation, - that they are perfectly true. My poor sister was apprenticed to - one of those fashionable West-end houses, and my father paid the - large sum of £40 only to procure for his daughter a lingering - death. I was allowed to visit her during her illness; I found her - in a very small room, which two large beds would fill. In this - room there were six children's bedsteads, and these were each to - contain three grown-up young women. In consequence of my sister - being so ill, she was allowed, on payment of 5_s._ per week, a - bed to herself—one so small it might be called a cradle. The - doctor who attended her when dying, can authenticate this letter. - - "Apologizing for encroaching on your valuable time, I remain your - obedient servant, - - A POOR CLERK." - -Many witnesses attest the ferocious bodily chastisement inflicted upon -male apprentices in workshops:— - - "In Sedgley they are sometimes struck with a red-hot iron, and - burned and bruised simultaneously; sometimes they have 'a flash - of lightning' sent at them. When a bar of iron is drawn white-hot - from the forge it emits fiery particles, which the man commonly - flings in a shower upon the ground by a swing of his arm, before - placing the bar upon the anvil. This shower is sometimes directed - at the boy. It may come over his hands and face, his naked arms, - or on his breast. If his shirt be open in front, which is usually - the case, the red-hot particles are lodged therein, and he has - to shake them out as fast as he can."—_Horne, Report_, p. 76, § - 757. See also witnesses, p. 56, 1. 24; p. 59, 1. 54. - - "In Darlaston, however, the children appear to be very little - beaten, and in Bilston there were only a few instances of cruel - treatment: 'the boys are kicked and cuffed abundantly, but not - with any vicious or cruel intention, and only with an idea that - this is getting the work done.'"—Ibid. p. 62, 65, §§ 660, 688. - - "In Wednesbury the treatment is better than in any other town in - the district. The boys are not generally subject to any severe - corporal chastisement, though a few cases of ill-treatment - occasionally occur. 'A few months ago an adult workman broke a - boy's arm by a blow with a piece of iron; the boy went to school - till his arm got well; his father and mother thought it a good - opportunity to give him some schooling.'"—Ibid. _Evidence_, No. - 331. - - "But the class of children in this district the most abused and - oppressed are the apprentices, and particularly those who are - bound to the small masters among the locksmiths, key and bolt - makers, screwmakers, &c. Even among these small masters, there - are respectable and humane men, who do not suffer any degree of - poverty to render them brutal; but many of these men treat their - apprentices not so much with neglect and harshness, as with - ferocious violence, the result of unbridled passions, excited - often by ardent spirits, acting on bodies exhausted by over-work, - and on minds which have never received the slightest moral or - religious culture, and which, therefore, never exercise the - smallest moral or religious restraint."—Ibid. - -Evidence from all classes,—masters, journeymen, residents, -magistrates, clergymen, constables, and, above all, from the mouths of -the poor oppressed sufferers themselves, is adduced to a heart-breaking -extent. The public has been excited to pity by Dickens's picture of -Smike—in Willenhall, there are many Smikes. - - "— —, aged sixteen: 'His master stints him from six in - the morning till ten and sometimes eleven at night, as much as - ever he can do; and if he don't do it, his master gives him no - supper, and gives him a good hiding, sometimes with a big strap, - sometimes with a big stick. His master has cut his head open - five times—once with a key and twice with a lock; knocked the - corner of a lock into his head twice—once with an iron bolt, and - once with an iron shut—a thing that runs into the staple. His - master's name is — —, of Little London. There is another - apprentice besides him, who is treated just as bad.'"—Ibid. p. - 32, 1. 4. - - "— —, aged fifteen: 'Works at knob-locks with — —. - Is a fellow-apprentice with — —. Lives in the house of his - master. Is beaten by his master, who hits him sometimes with - his fists, and sometimes with the file-haft, and sometimes with - a stick—it's no matter what when he's a bit cross; sometimes - hits him with the locks; has cut his head open four or five - times; so he has his fellow apprentice's head. Once when he cut - his head open with a key, thinks half a pint of blood run off - him.'"—Ibid. p. 32, 1. 19. - - "— —, aged fourteen: 'Has been an in-door apprentice three - years. Has no wages; nobody gets any wages for him. Has to serve - till he is twenty-one. His master behaves very bad. His mistress - behaves worse, like a devil; she beats him; knocks his head - against the wall. His master goes out a-drinking, and when he - comes back, if any thing's gone wrong that he (the boy) knows - nothing about, he is beat all the same.'"—Ibid. p. 32, 1. 36. - - "— —, aged sixteen: 'His master sometimes hits him with his - fist, sometimes kicks him; gave him the black eye he has got; - beat him in bed while he was asleep, at five in the morning, - because he was not up to work. He came up-stairs and set about - him—set about him with his fist. Has been over to the public - office, Brummagem, to complain; took a note with him, which was - written for him; his brother gave it to the public office there, - but they would not attend to it; they said they could do no good, - and gave the note back. He had been beaten at that time with a - whip-handle—it made wales all down his arms and back and all; - everybody he showed it to said it was scandalous. Wishes he could - be released from his master, who's never easy but when he's - a-beating of me. Never has enough to eat at no time; ax him for - more, he won't gie it me.'"—Ibid. p. 30, 1. 5. - - "— —, aged seventeen: 'Has no father or mother to take his - part. His master once cut his head open with a flat file-haft, - and used to pull his ears nearly off; they bled so he was obliged - to go into the house to wipe them with a cloth,'"—Ibid. p. 37, - 1. 7. - - "— —, aged fifteen: 'The neighbours who live agen the shop - will say how his master beats him; beats him with a strap, and - sometimes a nut-stick; sometimes the wales remain upon him for a - week; his master once cut his eyelid open, cut a hole in it, and - it bled all over his files that he was working with,'"—Ibid. p. - 37, 1. 47. - - "— —, aged 18: 'His master once ran at him with a hammer, - and drove the iron-head of the hammer into his side—he felt it - for weeks; his master often knocks him down on the shop-floor; - he can't tell what it's all for, no more than you can; don't - know what it can be for unless it's this, his master thinks he - don't do enough work for him. When he is beaten, his master - does not lay it on very heavy, as some masters do, only beats - him for five minutes at a time; should think that was enough, - though.'"—_Horne, Evidence_, p. 37, 1. 57. - -All this exists in a Christian land! Surely telescopic philanthropists -must be numerous in Great Britain. Wonderful to relate, there are many -persons instrumental in sustaining this barbarous system, who profess -a holy horror of slavery, and who seldom rise up or lie down without -offering prayers on behalf of the African bondsmen, thousands of miles -away. Verily, there are many people in this motley world so organized -that they can scent corruption "afar off," but gain no knowledge of the -foulness under their very noses. - -Henry Mayhew, in his "London Labour and the London Poor," gives some -very interesting information in regard to the workshops in the great -metropolis of the British Empire. "In the generality of trades, -the calculation is that one-third of the hands are fully employed, -one-third partially, and one-third unemployed throughout the year." The -wages of those who are regularly employed being scant, what must be -the condition of those whose employment is but casual and precarious? -Mayhew says— - - "The hours of labour in mechanical callings are usually twelve, - two of them devoted to meals, or seventy-two hours (less by the - permitted intervals) in a week. In the course of my inquiries for - the _Chronicle_, I met with slop cabinet-makers, tailors, and - milliners, who worked sixteen hours and more daily, their toil - being only interrupted by the necessity of going out, if small - masters, to purchase materials, and offer the goods for sale; or, - if journeymen in the slop trade, to obtain more work and carry - what was completed to the master's shop. They worked on Sundays - also; one tailor told me that the coat he worked at on the - previous Sunday was for the Rev. Mr. —, who 'little thought - it,' and these slop-workers rarely give above a few minutes to - a meal. Thus they toil forty hours beyond the hours usual in an - honourable trade, (112 hours instead of 72,) in the course of a - week, or between three and four days of the regular hours of work - of the six working days. In other words, two such men will in - less than a week accomplish work which should occupy three men a - full week; or 1000 men will execute labour fairly calculated to - employ 1500 at the least. A paucity of employment is thus caused - among the general body, by this system of over-labour decreasing - the share of work accruing to the several operatives, and so - adding to surplus hands. - - "Of over-work, as regards excessive labour, both in the general - and fancy cabinet trade, I heard the following accounts, which - different operatives concurred in giving; while some represented - the labour as of longer duration by at least an hour, and some by - two hours a day, than I have stated. - - "The labour of the men who depend entirely on 'the - slaughter-houses' for the purchase of their articles is usually - seven days a week the year through. That is, seven days—for - Sunday-work is all but universal—each of thirteen hours, or - ninety-one hours in all; while the established hours of labour - in the 'honourable trade' are six days of the week, each of ten - hours, or sixty hours in all. Thus fifty per cent. is added to - the extent of the production of low-priced cabinet work, merely - from 'over-hours'; but in some cases I heard of fifteen hours for - seven days in the week, or 105 hours in all. - - "Concerning the hours of labour in this trade, I had the - following minute particulars from a garret-master who was a - chair-maker:— - - "'I work from six every morning to nine at night; some work - till ten. My breakfast at eight stops me for ten minutes. I can - breakfast in less time, but it's a rest. My dinner takes me say - twenty minutes at the outside; and my tea eight minutes. All - the rest of the time I'm slaving at my bench. How many minutes' - rest is that, sir? Thirty-eight; well, say three-quarters of an - hour, and that allows a few sucks at a pipe when I rest; but I - can smoke and work too. I have only one room to work and eat in, - or I should lose more time. Altogether, I labour fourteen and a - quarter hours every day, and I must work on Sundays—at least - forty Sundays in the year. One may as well work as sit fretting. - But on Sundays I only work till it's dusk, or till five or six in - summer. When it's dusk I take a walk. I'm not well dressed enough - for a Sunday walk when it's light, and I can't wear my apron on - that day very well to hide patches. But there's eight hours that - I reckon I take up every week, one with another, in dancing about - to the slaughterers. I'm satisfied that I work very nearly 100 - hours a week the year through; deducting the time taken up by the - slaughterers, and buying stuff—say eight hours a week—it gives - more than ninety hours a week for my work, and there's hundreds - labour as hard as I do, just for a crust.' - - "The East-end turners generally, I was informed, when inquiring - into the state of that trade, labour at the lathe from six - o'clock in the morning till eleven and twelve at night, being - eighteen hours' work per day, or one hundred and eight hours - per week. They allow themselves two hours for their meals. It - takes them, upon an average, two hours more every day fetching - and carrying their work home. Some of the East-end men work on - Sundays, and not a few either,' said my informant. 'Sometimes - I have worked hard,' said one man, 'from six one morning till - four the next, and scarcely had any time to take my meals in the - bargain. I have been almost suffocated with the dust flying down - my throat after working so many hours upon such heavy work too, - and sweating so much. It makes a man drink where he would not.' - - "This system of over-work exists in the 'slop' part of almost - every business; indeed, it is the principal means by which the - cheap trade is maintained. Let me cite from my letters in the - _Chronicle_ some more of my experience on this subject. As - regards the London mantuamakers, I said:—'The workwomen for good - shops that give fair, or tolerably fair wages, and expect good - work, can make six average-sized mantles in a week, _working from - ten to twelve hours a day_; but the slop-workers by toiling from - thirteen to sixteen hours a day, will make _nine_ such sized - mantles in a week. In a season of twelve weeks, 1000 workers for - the slop-houses and warehouses would at this rate make 108,000 - mantles, or 36,000 more than workers for the fair trade. Or, to - put it in another light, these slop-women, by being compelled, in - order to live, to work such over-hours as inflict lasting injury - on the health, supplant, by their over-work and over-hours, the - labour of 500 hands, working the regular hours." - -Mr. Mayhew states it as a plain, unerring law, that "over-work makes -under-pay, and under-pay makes over-work." True; but under-pay in the -first place gave rise to prolonged hours of toil; and in spite of all -laws that may be enacted, as long as a miserable pittance is paid to -labourers, and that, too, devoured by taxes, supporting an aristocracy -in luxury, so long will the workman be compelled to slave for a -subsistence. - -The "strapping" system, which demands an undue quantity of work from a -journeyman in the course of a day, is extensively maintained in London. -Mr. Mayhew met with a miserable victim of this system of slavery, who -appeared almost exhausted with excessive toil. The poor fellow said— - - "'I work in what is called a strapping-shop, and have worked - at nothing else for these many years past in London. I call - "strapping" doing as much work as a human being or a horse - possibly can in a day, and that without any hanging upon the - collar, but with the foreman's eyes constantly fixed upon you, - from six o'clock in the morning to six o'clock at night. The shop - in which I work is for all the world like a prison; the silent - system is as strictly carried out there as in a model jail. If a - man was to ask any common question of his neighbour, except it - was connected with his trade, he would be discharged there and - then. If a journeyman makes the least mistake he is packed off - just the same. A man working at such places is almost always in - fear; for the most trifling things he's thrown out of work in an - instant. And then the quantity of work that one is forced to get - through is positively awful; if he can't do a plenty of it he - don't stop long where I am. No one would think it was possible - to get so much out of blood and bones. No slaves work like we - do. At some of the strapping shops the foreman keeps continually - walking about with his eyes on all the men at once. At others - the foreman is perched high up, so that he can have the whole of - the men under his eye together. I suppose since I knew the trade - that a _man does four times the work that he did formerly_. I - know a man that's done four pairs of sashes in a day, and one is - considered to be a good day's labour. What's worse than all, the - men are every one striving one against the other. Each is trying - to get through the work quicker than his neighbours. Four or - five men are set the same job, so that they may be all pitted - against one another, and then away they go, every one striving - his hardest for fear that the others should get finished first. - They are all tearing along, from the first thing in the morning - to the last at night, as hard as they can go, and when the time - comes to knock off they are ready to drop. It was hours after I - got home last night before I could get a wink of sleep; the soles - of my feet were on fire, and my arms ached to that degree that I - could hardly lift my hand to my head. Often, too, when we get up - of a morning, we are more tired than when we went to bed, for we - can't sleep many a night; but we musn't let our employers know - it, or else they'd be certain we couldn't do enough for them, - and we'd get the sack. So, tired as we may be, we are obliged to - look lively, somehow or other, at the shop of a morning. If we're - not beside our bench the very moment the bell's done ringing, - our time's docked—they won't give us a single minute out of the - hour. If I was working for a fair master, I should do nearly - one-third, and sometimes a half, less work than I am now forced - to get through; and, even to manage that much, I shouldn't be - idle a second of my time. It's quite a mystery to me how they - _do_ contrive to get so much work out of the men. But they are - very clever people. They know how to have the most out of a man, - better than any one in the world. They are all picked men in the - shop—regular "strappers," and no mistake. The most of them are - five foot ten, and fine broad-shouldered, strong-backed fellows - too—if they weren't they wouldn't have them. Bless you, they - make no words with the men, they sack them if they're not strong - enough to do all they want; and they can pretty soon tell, the - very first shaving a man strikes in the shop, what a chap is - made of. Some men are done up at such work—quite old men and - gray, with spectacles on, by the time they are forty. I have - seen fine strong men, of thirty-six, come in there, and be bent - double in two or three years. They are most all countrymen at - the strapping shops. If they see a great strapping fellow, who - they think has got some stuff about him that will come out, they - will give him a job directly. We are used for all the world like - cab or omnibus-horses. Directly they've had all the work out - of us, we are turned off, and I am sure, after my day's work - is over, my feelings must be very much the same as one of the - London cab-horses. As for Sunday, it is _literally_ a day of rest - with us, for the greater part of us lay a-bed all day, and even - that will hardly take the aches and pains out of our bones and - muscles. When I'm done and flung by, of course I must starve.'" - -It may be said that, exhausting as this labour certainly is, it is not -slavery; for the workman has a will of his own, and need not work if -he does not choose to do it. Besides, he is not held by law; he may -leave the shop; he may seek some other land. These circumstances make -his case very different from the negro slave of America. True, but the -difference is in favour of the negro slave. The London workman has only -the alternative—such labour as has been described, the workhouse, or -starvation. The negro slave seldom has such grinding toil, is provided -for whether he performs it or not, and can look forward to an old age -of comfort and repose. The London workman may leave his shop, but he -will be either consigned to the prison of a workhouse or starved. He -might leave the country, if he could obtain the necessary funds. - -Family work, or the conjoint labour of a workman's wife and children, -is one of the results of the wretchedly rewarded slavery in the various -trades. Mr Mayhew gives the following statement of a "fancy cabinet" -worker upon this subject:— - - "The most on us has got large families; we put the children to - work as soon as we can. My little girl began about six, but about - eight or nine is the usual age. 'Oh, poor little things,' said - the wife, 'they are obliged to begin the very minute they can - use their fingers at all.' The most of the cabinet-makers of the - East end have from five to six in family, and they are generally - all at work for them. The small masters mostly marry when they - are turned of twenty. You see our trade's coming to such a pass, - that unless a man has children to help him he can't live at all. - I've worked more than a month together, and the longest night's - rest I've had has been an hour and a quarter; ay, and I've been - up three nights a week besides. I've had my children lying ill, - and been obliged to wait on them into the bargain. You see we - couldn't live if it wasn't for the labour of our children, though - it makes 'em—poor little things!—old people long afore they are - growed up.' - - "'Why, I stood at this bench,' said the wife, 'with my child, - only ten years of age, from four o'clock on Friday morning till - ten minutes past seven in the evening, without a bit to eat or - drink. I never sat down a minute from the time I began till I - finished my work, and then I went out to sell what I had done. - I walked all the way from here [Shoreditch] down to the Lowther - Arcade to get rid of the articles.' Here she burst out into - a violent flood of tears, saying, 'Oh, sir, it is hard to be - obliged to labour from morning till night as we do, all of us, - little ones and all, and yet not be able to live by it either.' - - "'And you see the worst of it is, this here children's labour is - of such value now in our trade, that there's more brought into - the business every year, so that it's really for all the world - _like breeding slaves_. Without my children I don't know how we - should be able to get along.' 'There's that little thing,' said - the man, pointing to the girl ten years of age, before alluded - to, as she sat at the edge of the bed, 'why she works regularly - every day from six in the morning till ten at night. She never - goes to school; we can't spare her. There's schools enough about - here for a penny a week, but we could not afford to keep her - without working. If I'd ten more children I should be obliged to - employ them all the same way, and there's hundreds and thousands - of children now slaving at this business. There's the M—'s; - they have a family of eight, and the youngest to the oldest of - all works at the bench; and the oldest a'n't fourteen. I'm sure, - of the two thousand five hundred small masters in the cabinet - line, you may safely say that two thousand of them, at the very - least, have from five to six in family, and that's upward of - twelve thousand children that's been put to the trade since - prices have come down. Twenty years ago I don't think there was a - child at work in our business; and I am sure there is not a small - master now whose whole family doesn't assist him. But what I want - to know is, what's to become of the twelve thousand children when - they're growed up and come regular into the trade? Here are all - my ones growing up without being taught any thing but a business - that I know they must starve at.' - - "In answer to my inquiry as to what dependence he had in case - of sickness, 'Oh, bless you,' he said, 'there's nothing but the - parish for us. I _did_ belong to a benefit society about four - years ago, but I couldn't keep up my payments any longer. I was - in the society above five-and-twenty years, and then was obliged - to leave it after all. I don't know of one as belongs to any - friendly society, and I don't think there is a man as can afford - it in our trade now. They must all go to the workhouse when - they're sick or old.'" - -The "trading operatives," or those labourers who employ subordinate and -cheaper work-people, are much decried in England; but they, also, are -the creations of the general system. A workman frequently ascertains -that he can make more money with less labour, by employing women or -children at home, than if he did all of his own work; and very often -men are driven to this resource to save themselves from being worked -to death. The condition of those persons who work for the "trading -operatives," or "middlemen," is as miserable as imagination may -conceive. - -In Charles Kingsley's popular novel, "Alton Locke," we find a vivid and -truthful picture of the London tailor's workshop, and the slavery of -the workmen, which may be quoted here in illustration:— - - "I stumbled after Mr. Jones up a dark, narrow iron staircase, - till we emerged through a trap-door into a garret at the top - of the house. I recoiled with disgust at the scene before me; - and here I was to work—perhaps through life! A low lean-to - room, stifling me with the combined odours of human breath and - perspiration, stale beer, the sweet sickly smell of gin, and the - sour and hardly less disgusting one of new cloth. On the floor, - thick with dust and dirt, scraps of stuff and ends of thread, sat - some dozen haggard, untidy, shoeless men, with a mingled look - of care and recklessness that made me shudder. The windows were - tight closed to keep out the cold winter air; and the condensed - breath ran in streams down the panes, checkering the dreary - outlook of chimney-tops and smoke. The conductor handed me over - to one of the men. - - "'Here Crossthwaite, take this younker and make a tailor of - him. Keep him next you, and prick him up with your needle if he - shirks.' - - "He disappeared down the trap-door, and mechanically, as if in a - dream, I sat down by the man and listened to his instructions, - kindly enough bestowed. But I did not remain in peace two - minutes. A burst of chatter rose as the foreman vanished, and a - tall, bloated, sharp-nosed young man next me bawled in my ear— - - "'I say, young 'un, fork out the tin and pay your footing at - Conscrumption Hospital!' - - "'What do you mean?' - - "'An't he just green?—Down with the stumpy—a tizzy for a pot of - half-and-half.' - - "'I never drink beer.' - - "'Then never do,' whispered the man at my side; 'as sure as - hell's hell, it's your only chance.' - - "There was a fierce, deep earnestness in the tone, which made me - look up at the speaker, but the other instantly chimed in. - - "'Oh, yer don't, don't yer, my young Father Mathy! then yer'll - soon learn it here if yer want to keep your victuals down.' - - "'And I have promised to take my wages home to my mother.' - - "'Oh criminy! hark to that, my coves! here's a chap as is going - to take the blunt home to his mammy.' - - "'Ta'nt much of it the old un'll see,' said another. 'Ven yer - pockets it at the Cock and Bottle, my kiddy, yer won't find much - of it left o' Sunday mornings.' - - "'Don't his mother know he's out?' asked another; 'and won't she - know it— - - Ven he's sitting in his glory - Half-price at the Vic-tory. - - Oh no, ve never mentions her—her name is never heard. Certainly - not, by no means. Why should it?' - - "'Well, if yer won't stand a pot,' quoth the tall man, 'I will, - that's all, and blow temperance. 'A short life and a merry one,' - says the tailor— - - The ministers talk a great deal about port, - And they makes Cape wine very dear, - But blow their hi's if ever they tries - To deprive a poor cove of his beer. - - Here, Sam, run to the Cock and Bottle for a pot of half-and-half - to my score.' - - "A thin, pale lad jumped up and vanished, while my tormentor - turned to me: - - "I say, young 'un, do you know why we're nearer heaven here than - our neighbours?' - - "'I shouldn't have thought so,' answered I with a _naïveté_ which - raised a laugh, and dashed the tall man for a moment. - - "'Yer don't? then I'll tell yer. Acause we're atop of the house - in the first place, and next place yer'll die here six months - sooner nor if yer worked in the room below. A'n't that logic and - science, Orator?' appealing to Crossthwaite. - - "'Why?' asked I. - - "'Acause you get all the other floors' stinks up here, as well - as your own. Concentrated essence of man's flesh, is this here - as you're a-breathing. Cellar work-room we calls Rheumatic Ward, - because of the damp. Ground-floor's, Fever Ward—them as don't - get typhus gets dysentery, and them as don't get dysentery - gets typhus—your nose 'd tell yer why if you opened the back - windy. First floor's Ashmy Ward—don't you hear 'um now through - the cracks in the boards, a-puffing away like a nest of young - locomotives? And this here more august and upper-crust cockloft - is the Conscrumptive Hospital. First you begins to cough, then - you proceed to expectorate—spittoons, as you see, perwided free - gracious for nothing—fined a kivarten if you spits on the floor— - - Then your cheeks they grow red, and your nose it grows thin, - And your bones they sticks out, till they comes through - your skin: - - and then, when you've sufficiently covered the poor dear - shivering bare backs of the hairystocracy, - - Die, die, die, - Away you fly, - Your soul is in the sky! - - as the hinspired Shakspeare wittily remarks.' - - "And the ribald lay down on his back, stretched himself out, and - pretended to die in a fit of coughing, which last was alas! no - counterfeit, while poor I, shocked and bewildered, let my tears - fall fast upon my knees. - - "'Fine him a pot!' roared one, 'for talking about kicking the - bucket. He's a nice young man to keep a cove's spirits up, and - talk about "a short life and a merry one." Here comes the heavy. - Hand it here to take the taste of that fellow's talk out of my - mouth.' - - "'Well, my young 'un,' recommenced my tormentor, 'and how do you - like your company?' - - "'Leave the boy alone,' growled Crossthwaite: 'don't you see he's - crying?' - - "'Is that any thing good to eat? Give me some on it, if it - is—it'll save me washing my face.' And he took hold of my hair - and pulled my head back. - - "'I'll tell you what, Jemmy Downes,' said Crossthwaite, in a - voice that made him draw back, 'if you don't drop that, I'll give - you such a taste of my tongue as shall turn you blue.' - - "'You'd better try it on, then. Do—only just now—if you please.' - - "'Be quiet, you fool!' said another. 'You're a pretty fellow to - chaff the orator. He'll slang you up the chimney afore you can - get your shoes on.' - - "'Fine him a kivarten for quarrelling,' cried another; and - the bully subsided into a minute's silence, after a _sotto - voce_—'Blow temperance, and blow all Chartists, say I!' and then - delivered himself of his feelings in a doggrel song: - - Some folks leads coves a dance, - With their pledge of temperance, - And their plans for donkey sociation; - And their pocket-fulls they crams - By their patriotic flams, - And then swears 'tis for the good of the nation. - - But I don't care two inions - For political opinions, - While I can stand my heavy and my quartern; - For to drown dull care within, - In baccy, beer, and gin, - Is the prime of a working-tailor's fortin! - - "'There's common sense for you now; hand the pot here.' - - "I recollect nothing more of that day, except that I bent - myself to my work with assiduity enough to earn praises from - Crossthwaite. It was to be done, and I did it. The only virtue - I ever possessed (if virtue it be) is the power of absorbing my - whole heart and mind in the pursuit of the moment, however dull - or trivial, if there be good reason why it should be pursued at - all. - - "I owe, too, an apology to my readers for introducing all this - ribaldry. God knows it is as little to my taste as it can be to - theirs, but the thing exists; and those who live, if not by, - yet still beside such a state of things, ought to know what the - men are like, to whose labour, ay, life-blood, they owe their - luxuries. They are 'their brothers' keepers,' let them deny it as - they will." - -As a relief from misery, the wretched workmen generally resort to -intoxicating liquors, which, however, ultimately render them a -hundredfold more miserable. In "Alton Locke," this is illustrated with -an almost fearful power, in the life and death of the tailor Downes. -After saving the wretched man from throwing himself into the river, -Alton Locke accompanies him to a disgusting dwelling, in Bermondsey. -The story continues:— - - "He stopped at the end of a miserable blind alley, where a dirty - gas-lamp just served to make darkness visible, and show the - patched windows and rickety doorways of the crazy houses, whose - upper stories were lost in a brooding cloud of fog; and the pools - of stagnant water at our feet: and the huge heap of cinders which - filled up the waste end of the alley—a dreary black, formless - mound, on which two or three spectral dogs prowled up and down - after the offal, appearing and vanishing like dark imps in and - out of the black misty chaos beyond. - - "The neighbourhood was undergoing, as it seemed, 'improvements,' - of that peculiar metropolitan species which consists in pulling - down the dwellings of the poor, and building up rich men's houses - instead; and great buildings, within high temporary palings, - had already eaten up half the little houses; as the great fish - and the great estates, and the great shopkeepers, eat up the - little ones of their species—by the law of competition, lately - discovered to be the true creator and preserver of the universe. - There they loomed up, the tall bullies, against the dreary sky, - looking down with their grim, proud, stony visages, on the misery - which they were driving out of one corner, only to accumulate and - intensify it in another. - - "The house at which we stopped was the last in the row; all its - companions had been pulled down; and there it stood, leaning - out with one naked ugly side into the gap, and stretching out - long props, like feeble arms and crutches, to resist the work of - demolition. - - "A group of slatternly people were in the entry, talking loudly, - and as Downes pushed by them, a woman seized him by the arm. - - "'Oh! you unnatural villain!—To go away after your drink, and - leave all them poor dead corpses locked up, without even letting - a body go in to stretch them out!' - - "'And breeding the fever, too, to poison the whole house!' - growled one. - - "'The relieving-officer's been here, my cove,' said another; 'and - he's gone for a peeler and a search-warrant to break open the - door, I can tell you!' - - "But Downes pushed past unheeding, unlocked a door at the end - of the passage, thrust me in, locked it again, and then rushed - across the room in chase of two or three rats, who vanished into - cracks and holes. - - "And what a room! A low lean-to with wooden walls, without a - single article of furniture; and through the broad chinks of the - floor shone up as it were ugly glaring eyes, staring at us. They - were the reflections of the rushlight in the sewer below. The - stench was frightful—the air heavy with pestilence. The first - breath I drew made my heart sink, and my stomach turn. But I - forgot every thing in the object which lay before me, as Downes - tore a half-finished coat off three corpses laid side by side on - the bare floor. - - "There was his little Irish wife;—dead—and naked—the wasted - white limbs gleamed in the lurid light; the unclosed eyes stared, - as if reproachfully, at the husband whose drunkenness had brought - her there to kill her with the pestilence; and on each side of - her a little, shrivelled, impish, child-corpse—the wretched man - had laid their arms round the dead mother's neck—and there they - slept, their hungering and wailing over at last for ever: the - rats had been busy already with them—but what matter to them now? - - "'Look!' he cried; 'I watched 'em dying! Day after day I saw - the devils come up through the cracks, like little maggots and - beetles, and all manner of ugly things, creeping down their - throats; and I asked 'em, and they said they were the fever - devils.' - - "It was too true; the poisonous exhalations had killed them. - The wretched man's delirium tremens had given that horrible - substantiality to the poisonous fever gases. - - "Suddenly Downes turned on me almost menacingly. 'Money! money! I - want some gin!' - - "I was thoroughly terrified—and there was no shame in feeling - fear, locked up with a madman far my superior in size and - strength, in so ghastly a place. But the shame, and the folly - too, would have been in giving way to my fear; and with a - boldness half assumed, half the real fruit of excitement and - indignation at the horrors I beheld, I answered— - - "'If I had money, I would give you none. What do you want with - gin? Look at the fruits of your accursed tippling. If you had - taken my advice, my poor fellow,' I went on, gaining courage as I - spoke, 'and become a water-drinker, like me'— - - "'Curse you and your water-drinking! If you had had no water to - drink or wash with for two years but that—that,' pointing to the - foul ditch below—'If you had emptied the slops in there with one - hand, and filled your kettle with the other'— - - "'Do you actually mean that that sewer is your only drinking - water?' - - "'Where else can we get any? Everybody drinks it; and you shall - too—you shall!' he cried, with a fearful oath, 'and then see if - you don't run off to the gin-shop, to take the taste of it out of - your mouth. Drink! and who can help drinking, with his stomach - turned with such hell-broth as that—or such a hell's blast as - this air is here, ready to vomit from morning till night with the - smells? I'll show you. You shall drink a bucket-full of it, as - sure as you live, you shall.' - - "And he ran out of the back door, upon a little balcony, which - hung over the ditch. - - "I tried the door, but the key was gone, and the handle - too. I beat furiously on it, and called for help. Two gruff - authoritative voices were heard in the passage. - - "'Let us in; I'm the policeman!' - - "'Let me out, or mischief will happen!' - - "The policeman made a vigorous thrust at the crazy door; and just - as it burst open, and the light of his lantern streamed into the - horrible den, a heavy splash was heard outside. - - "'He has fallen into the ditch!' - - "'He'll be drowned, then, as sure as he's a born man,' shouted - one of the crowd behind. - - "We rushed out on the balcony. The light of the policeman's - lantern glared over the ghastly scene—along the double row of - miserable house-backs, which lined the sides of the open tidal - ditch—over strange rambling jetties, and balconies, and sleeping - sheds, which hung on rotting piles over the black waters, with - phosphorescent scraps of rotten fish gleaming and twinkling out - of the dark hollows, like devilish gravelights—over bubbles - of poisonous gas, and bloated carcases of dogs, and lumps of - offal, floating on the stagnant olive-green hell-broth—over the - slow sullen rows of oily ripple which were dying away into the - darkness far beyond, sending up, as they stirred, hot breaths - of miasma—the only sign that a spark of humanity, after years - of foul life, had quenched itself at last in that foul death. I - almost fancied that I could see the haggard face staring up at me - through the slimy water; but no—it was as opaque as stone." - -Downes had been a "sweater," and before his death was a "sweater's -slave." - -When the comparatively respectable workshop in which Alton Locke -laboured was broken up, and the workmen were told by the heartless -employer that he intended to give out work, for those who could labour -at home, these toil-worn men held a meeting, at which a man named John -Crossthwaite, thus spoke for his oppressed and degraded class:— - - "We were all bound to expect this. Every working tailor must come - to this at last, on the present system; and we are only lucky in - having been spared so long. You all know where this will end—in - the same misery as fifteen thousand out of twenty thousand of - our class are enduring now. We shall become the slaves, often - the bodily prisoners, of Jews, middlemen, and sweaters, who draw - their livelihood out of our starvation. We shall have to face, as - the rest have, ever-decreasing prices of labour, ever-increasing - profits made out of that labour by the contractors who will - employ us—arbitrary fines, inflicted at the caprice of - hirelings—the competition of women, and children, and starving - Irish—our hours of work will increase one-third, our actual pay - decrease to less than one-half; and in all this we shall have no - hope, no chance of improvement in wages, but ever more penury, - slavery, misery, as we are pressed on by those who are sucked by - fifties—almost by hundreds—yearly, out of the honourable trade - in which we were brought up, into the infernal system of contract - work, which is devouring our trade and many others, body and - soul. Our wives will be forced to sit up night and day to help - us—our children must labour from the cradle, without chance of - going to school, hardly of breathing the fresh air of heaven—our - boys as they grow up must turn beggars or paupers—our daughters, - as thousands do, must eke out their miserable earnings by - prostitution. And, after all, a whole family will not gain what - one of us had been doing, as yet, single-handed. You know there - will be no hope for us. There is no use appealing to government - or Parliament. I don't want to talk politics here. I shall keep - them for another place. But you can recollect as well as I can, - when a deputation of us went up to a member of Parliament—one - that was reputed a philosopher, and a political economist, - and a liberal—and set before him the ever-increasing penury - and misery of our trade and of those connected with it; you - recollect his answer—that, however glad he would be to help us, - it was impossible—he could not alter the laws of nature—that - wages were regulated by the amount of competition among the men - themselves, and that it was no business of government, or any - one else, to interfere in contracts between the employer and - employed, that those things regulated themselves by the laws of - political economy, which it was madness and suicide to oppose. - He may have been a wise man. I only know that he was a rich one. - Every one speaks well of the bridge which carries him over. Every - one fancies the laws which fill his pockets to be God's laws. But - I say this: If neither government nor members of Parliament can - help us, we must help ourselves. Help yourselves, and Heaven will - help you. Combination among ourselves is the only chance. One - thing we can do—sit still.' - - "'And starve!' said some one." - -Crossthwaite is represented as having preferred to endure want rather -than work under the sweating system. But there are few men who possess -such spirit and determination. Men with families are compelled, by -considering those who are dependent upon them, to work for whatever -prices the masters choose to pay. They are free labourers—if they do -not choose to work—they are perfectly free—to starve! - -The government took the initiative in the sweating system. It set the -example by giving the army and navy clothes to contractors, and taking -the lowest tenders. The police clothes, the postmen's clothes, the -convict's clothes, are all contracted for by sweaters and sub-sweaters, -till government work is the very last, lowest resource to which a poor, -starved-out wretch betakes himself, to keep body and soul together. -Thus is profit made from the pauperism of men, the slavery of children, -and the prostitution of women, in Great Britain. - -Some years ago the following announcement appeared in the Village -Gazette:— - - "Peter Moreau and his wife are dead, aged twenty-five years. Too - much work has killed them and many besides. We say—Work like a - negro, like a galley-slave: we ought to say—Work like a freeman." - -Work like negro slaves, indeed! There is no such work in America, even -among the slaves; all day long, from Monday morning till Saturday -night, week after week, and year after year, till the machine is worn -out. American slaves and convicts in New South Wales are fat and happy, -compared with the labourers of England. It frequently happens that -Englishmen commit crimes for the purpose of becoming galley-slaves in -New South Wales. They do not keep their purpose secret; they declare -it loudly with tears and passionate exclamations to the magistrate who -commits them for trial, to the jury who try them, and to the judge who -passes sentence on them. This is published in the newspapers, but so -often that it excites no particular comment. - -The parish apprentices are the worst-treated slaves in the world. They -are at the mercy of their masters and mistresses during their term of -apprenticeship, without protectors, and without appeal against the most -cruel tyranny. In the reign of George III., one Elizabeth Brownrigg was -hanged for beating and starving to death her parish apprentices. In -1831, another woman, Esther Hibner by name, was hanged in London for -beating and starving to death a parish apprentice. Two instances of -punishment, for thousands of cases of impunity! - - "The evidence in the case of Esther Hibner proved that a number - of girls, pauper apprentices, were employed in a workshop; that - their victuals consisted of garbage, commonly called hog's-wash, - and that of this they never had enough to stay the pains of - hunger; that they were kept half-naked, half-clothed in dirty - rags; that they slept in a heap on the floor, amid filth and - stench; that they suffered dreadfully from cold; that they were - forced to work so many hours together that they used to fall - asleep while at work; that for falling asleep, for not working - as hard as their mistress wished, they were beaten with sticks, - with fists, dragged by the hair, dashed on to the ground, - trampled upon, and otherwise tortured; that they were found, all - of them more or less, covered with chilblains, scurvy, bruises, - and wounds; that one of them died of ill-treatment; and—mark - this—that the discovery of that murder was made in consequence - of the number of coffins which had issued from Esther Hibner's - premises, and raised the curiosity of her neighbours. For this - murder Mrs. Hibner was hanged; but what did she get for all the - other murders which, referring to the number of coffins, we have - a right to believe that she committed? She got for each £10. - That is to say, whenever she had worked, starved, beaten, dashed - and trampled a girl to death, she got another girl to treat in - the same way, with £10 for her trouble. She carried on a trade - in the murder of parish apprentices; and if she had conducted - it with moderation, if the profit and custom of murder had not - made her grasping and careless, the constitution, which protects - the poor as well as the rich, would never have interfered with - her. The law did not permit her to do what she liked with her - apprentices, as Americans do with their slaves; oh no. Those - free-born English children were merely bound as apprentices, with - their own consent, under the eye of the magistrate, in order - that they might learn a trade and become valuable subjects. But - did the magistrate ever visit Mrs. Hibner's factory to see how - she treated the free-born English girls? never. Did the parish - officers? no. Was there any legal provision for the discovery of - the woman's trade in murder? none." - - "You still read on the gates of London poorhouses, 'strong, - healthy boys and girls,' &c.; and boys or girls you may obtain - by applying within, as many as you please, free-born, with the - usual fee. Having been paid for taking them, and having gone - through the ceremonies of asking their consent and signing bonds - before a magistrate, you may make them into sausages, for any - thing the constitution will do to prevent you. If it should be - proved that you kill even one of them, you will be hanged; but - you may half-starve them, beat them, torture them, any thing - short of killing them, with perfect security; and using a little - circumspection, you may kill them too, without much danger. - Suppose they die, who cares? Their parents? they are orphans, or - have been abandoned by their parents. The parish officers? very - likely, indeed, that these, when the poorhouse is crammed with - orphan and destitute children, should make inquiries troublesome - to themselves; inquiries which, being troublesome to you, might - deprive them of your custom in future. The magistrate? he asked - the child whether it consented to be your apprentice; the child - said 'Yes, your worship;' and there his worship's duty ends. The - neighbours? of course, if you raise their curiosity like Esther - Hibner, but not otherwise. In order to be quite safe, I tell you - you must be a little circumspect. But let us suppose that you are - timid, and would drive a good trade without the shadow of risk. - In that case, half-starve your apprentices, cuff them, kick them, - torment them till they run away from you. They will not go back - to the poorhouse, because there they would be flogged for having - run away from you: besides, the poorhouse is any thing but a - pleasant place. The boys will turn beggars or thieves, and the - girls prostitutes; you will have pocketed £10 for each of them, - and may get more boys and girls on the same terms, to treat in - the same way. This trade is as safe as it is profitable."[89] - - - - -CHAPTER V. - -THE WORKHOUSE SYSTEM OF BRITAIN. - - -The English writers generally point to the poor-laws of their country -as a proud evidence of the merciful and benevolent character of the -government. Look at those laws! so much have we done in the cause of -humanity. See how much money we expend every year for the relief of the -poor! Our workhouses are maintained at an enormous expense. Very well; -but it takes somewhat from the character of the doctor, to ascertain -that he gave the wound he makes a show of healing. What are the sources -of the immense pauperism of Britain? The enormous monopoly of the soil, -and the vast expense of civil and ecclesiastical aristocracy. The first -takes work from one portion of the people, and the latter takes the -profits of work from the other portion. The "glorious institutions" of -Britain crowd the workhouses; and we are now going to show the horrible -system under which paupers are held in these establishments. - -The labouring classes are constantly exposed to the chance of going to -the workhouse. Their wages are so low, or so preyed upon by taxes, that -they have no opportunity of providing for a "rainy day." A few weeks' -sickness, a few weeks' absence of work, and, starvation staring them -in the face, they are forced to apply to the parish authorities for -relief. Once within the gate of the workhouse, many never entertain the -idea of coming out until they are carried forth in their coffins. - -Each parish has a workhouse, which is under the control of several -guardians, who, again, are under the orders of a Board of Commissioners -sitting at London. Many—perhaps a majority—of the guardians of the -parishes are persons without those humane feelings which should belong -to such officials, and numerous petty brutalities are added to those -which are inherent in the British workhouse system. - -Robert Southey says— - - "When the poor are incapable of contributing any longer to their - own support, they are removed to what is called the workhouse. - I cannot express to you the feelings of hopelessness and - dread with which all the decent poor look on to this wretched - termination of a life of labour. To this place all vagrants are - sent for punishment; unmarried women with child go here to be - delivered; and poor orphans and base-born children are brought - up here until they are of age to be apprenticed off; the other - inmates are of those unhappy people who are utterly helpless, - parish idiots and madmen, the blind and the palsied, and the - old who are fairly worn out. It is not in the nature of things - that the superintendents of such institutions as these should be - gentle-hearted, when the superintendence is undertaken merely - for the sake of the salary. To this society of wretchedness - the labouring poor of England look as their last resting-place - on this side of the grave; and, rather than enter abodes so - miserable, they endure the severest privations as long as it is - possible to exist. A feeling of honest pride makes them shrink - from a place where guilt and poverty are confounded; and it is - heart-breaking for those who have reared a family of their own - to be subjected, in their old age, to the harsh and unfeeling - authority of persons younger than themselves, neither better born - nor better bred." - -This is no less true, than admirable as a specimen of prose. It was -true when Southey penned it, and it is true now. Let us look at some of -the provisions of the poor-laws of England, which form the much-lauded -system of charity. - -One of these provisions refuses relief to those who will not accept -that relief except in the character of inmates of the workhouse, and -thus compels the poor applicants to either perish of want or tear -asunder all the ties of home. To force the wretched father from the -abode of his family, is a piece of cruelty at which every humane breast -must revolt. What wonder that many perish for want of food, rather than -leave all that is dear to them on earth? If they must die, they prefer -to depart surrounded by affectionate relatives, rather than by callous -"guardians of the poor," who calculate the trouble and the expense -of the burial before the breath leaves the body. The framers of the -poor-laws forgot—perchance—that, "Be it ever so humble, there's no -place like home." - -Another provision of the poor-laws denies the consolations of religion -to those whose conscientious scruples will not allow them to worship -according to the forms of the established church. This is totally at -variance with the spirit of true Christianity, and a most barbarous -privation. One would think that British legislators doubted the supreme -efficacy of the Christian faith in saving souls from destruction. Why -should not the balm be applied, regardless of the formal ceremonies, if -it possesses any healing virtues? But the glory of the English Church -is its iron observance of forms; and, rather than relax one jot, it -would permit the souls of millions to be swept away into the gloom of -eternal night. - -Then, there is the separation regulation, dragging after it a long -train of horrors and heart-rending sufferings—violating the law of -holy writ—"Whom God hath joined together, let no man put asunder"—and -trampling upon the best feelings of human nature. - -A thrilling illustration of the operation of this law is narrated by -Mr. James Grant.[90] We quote:— - - "Two persons, man and wife, of very advanced years, were at - last, through the infirmities consequent on old age, rendered - incapable of providing for themselves. Their friends were like - themselves, poor; but, so long as they could, they afforded - them all the assistance in their power. The infirmities of the - aged couple became greater and greater; so, as a necessary - consequence, did their wants. The guardians of the poor—their - parish being under the operation of the new measure—refused to - afford them the slightest relief. What was to be done? They had - no alternative but starvation and the workhouse. To have gone to - the workhouse, even had they been permitted to live together, - could have been painful enough to their feelings; but to go there - to be separated from each other, was a thought at which their - hearts sickened. They had been married for nearly half a century; - and during all that time had lived in the greatest harmony - together. I am speaking the language of unexaggerated truth when - I say, that their affection for each other increased, instead - of suffering diminution, as they advanced in years. A purer or - stronger attachment than theirs has never, perhaps, existed in a - world in which there is so much of mutability as in ours. Many - were the joys and many were the sorrows which they had equally - shared with each other. Their joys were increased, because - participated in by both: their sorrows were lessened, because of - the consolations they assiduously administered to each other when - the dispensations of Providence assumed a lowering aspect. The - reverses they had experienced, in the course of their long and - eventful union, had only served to attach them the more strongly - to each other, just as the tempestuous blast only serves to - cause the oak to strike its roots more deeply in the earth. With - minds originally constituted alike, and that constitution being - based on a virtuous foundation, it was, indeed, to be expected - that the lapse of years would only tend to strengthen their - attachment. Nothing, in a word, could have exceeded the ardour - of their sympathy with each other. The only happiness which this - world could afford them was derived from the circumstance of - being in each other's company; and the one looked forward to the - possibility of being left alone, when the other was snatched away - by death, with feelings of the deepest pain and apprehension. - Their wish was, in subordination to the will of the Supreme - Being, that as they had been so long united in life, so in death - they might not be divided. Their wish was in one sense realized, - though not in the sense they had desired. The pressure of want, - aggravated by the increasing infirmities of the female, imposed - on her the necessity of repairing to the workhouse. The husband - would most willingly have followed, had they been permitted - to live together when there, in the hope that they should, - even in that miserable place, be able to assuage each other's - griefs, as they had so often done before. That was a permission, - however, which was not to be granted to them. The husband - therefore determined that he would live on a morsel of bread and - a draught of cold water, where he was, rather than submit to - the degradation of a workhouse, in which he would be separated - from her who had been the partner of his joys and griefs for - upward of half a century. The hour of parting came; and a sad - and sorrowful hour it was to the aged couple. Who shall describe - their feelings on the occasion? Who can even enter into those - feelings? No one. They could only be conceived by themselves. - The process of separation was as full of anguish to their mental - nature as is the severance of a limb from the body to the - physical constitution. And that separation was aggravated by the - circumstance, that both felt a presentiment, so strong as to have - all the force of a thorough conviction, that their separation was - to be final as regarded this world. What, then, must have been - the agonies of the parting hour in the case of a couple whose - mental powers were still unimpaired, and who had lived in the - most perfect harmony for the protracted period of fifty years? - They were, I repeat, not only such as admit of no description, - but no one, who has not been similarly circumstanced, can even - form an idea of them. The downcast look, the tender glances - they emitted to each other, the swimming eye, the moist cheek, - the deep-drawn sigh, the choked utterance, the affectionate - embrace—all told, in the language of resistless eloquence, of - the anguish caused by their separation. The scene was affecting - in the extreme, even to the mere spectator. It was one which must - have softened the hardest heart, as it drew tears from every - eye which witnessed it; what, then, must the actual realization - of it in all its power have been to the parties themselves? The - separation did take place; the poor woman was wrenched from the - almost death-like grasp of her husband. She was transferred to - the workhouse; and he was left alone in the miserable hovel in - which they had so long remained together. And what followed? - What followed! That may be soon told: it is a short history. The - former pined away, and died in three weeks after the separation; - and the husband only survived three weeks more. Their parting was - thus but for a short time, though final as regarded this world. - Ere six weeks had elapsed they again met together— - - Met on that happy, happy shore, - Where friends do meet to part no more." - -Here was an outrage, shocking to every heart of ordinary sensibility, -committed by authority of the British government, in due execution -of its "charitable enactments." In searching for a parallel, we can -only find it among those savage tribes who kill their aged and infirm -brethren to save trouble and expense. Yet such actions are sanctioned -by the government of a civilized nation, in the middle of the -nineteenth century; and that, too, when the government is parading its -philanthropy in the face of the world, and, pharisaically, thanking God -that it is not as other nations are, authorizing sin and wrong. - -It was said by the advocates of this regulation of separation, that -paupers themselves have no objection to be separated from each other; -because, generally speaking, they have become old and unable to -assist each other, before they throw themselves permanently on the -parish—in other words, that the poor have not the same affection for -relatives and friends that the wealthy have. Well, that argument was -characteristic of a land where the fineness of a man's feelings are -assumed to be exactly in proportion to the position of his ancestry -and the length of his purse—perfectly in keeping, as an artist would -say. A pauper husband and wife, after living together, perhaps for -thirty years, become old and desire to be separated, according to the -representations of the British aristocrat. His iron logic allows no -hearts to the poor. To breathe is human—to feel is aristocratic. - -Equally to be condemned is the regulation which prohibits the visits -to the workhouse of the friends of the inmates. The only shadow of a -reason for this is an alleged inconvenience attending the admission -of those persons who are not inmates; and for such a reason the wife -is prevented from seeing her husband, the children from seeing their -father, and the poor heart-broken inmate from seeing a friend—perhaps -the only one he has in the world. We might suppose that the authors -of this regulation had discovered that adversity multiplies friends, -instead of driving them away from its gloom. Paupers must be blessed -beyond the rest of mankind in that respect. Instances are recorded in -which dying paupers have been refused the consolation of a last visit -from their children, under the operation of this outrageous law. Mr. -James Grant mentions a case that came to his notice:— - - "An instance occurred a few months since in a workhouse in the - suburbs of the metropolis, in which intelligence was accidentally - conveyed to a daughter that her father was on his death-bed; she - hurried that moment to the workhouse, but was refused admission. - With tears in her eyes, and a heart that was ready to break, she - pleaded the urgency of the case. The functionary was deaf to - her entreaties; as soon might she have addressed them to the - brick wall before her. His answer was, 'It is contrary to the - regulations of the place; come again at a certain hour,' She - applied to the medical gentleman who attended the workhouse, and - through his exertions obtained admission. She flew to the ward - in which her father was confined: he lay cold, motionless, and - unconscious before her—his spirit was gone; he had breathed - his last five minutes before. Well may we exclaim, when we hear - of such things, 'Do we live in a Christian country? Is this a - civilized land?'" - -Certainly, Mr. Grant, it is a land of freedom and philanthropy unknown -upon the rest of the earth's surface. - -From a survey of the poor-laws it appears that poverty is considered -criminal in Great Britain. The workhouses, which are declared to have -been established for the relief of the poor, are worse than prisons for -solitary confinement; for the visits of friends and the consolations -of religion, except under particular forms, are denied to the unhappy -inmates, while they are permitted to the criminal in his dungeon. - -What an English pauper is may be learned from the following description -of the "bold peasantry," which we extract from one of the countless -pamphlets on pauperism written by Englishmen. - - "What is that defective being, with calfless legs and stooping - shoulders, weak in body and mind, inert, pusillanimous and - stupid, whose premature wrinkles and furtive glance tell of - misery and degradation? That is an English peasant or pauper; - for the words are synonymous. His sire was a pauper, and his - mother's milk wanted nourishment. From infancy his food has been - bad, as well as insufficient; and he now feels the pains of - unsatisfied hunger nearly whenever he is awake. But half-clothed, - and never supplied with more warmth than suffices to cook his - scanty meals, cold and wet come to him, and stay by him, with - the weather. He is married, of course; for to this he would have - been driven by the poor-laws, even if he had been, as he never - was, sufficiently comfortable and prudent to dread the burden - of a family. But, though instinct and the overseer have given - him a wife, he has not tasted the highest joys of husband and - father. His partner and his little ones being, like himself, - often hungry, seldom warm, sometimes sick without aid, and always - sorrowful without hope, are greedy, selfish, and vexing; so, - to use his own expression, he 'hates the sight of them,' and - resorts to his hovel only because a hedge affords less shelter - from the wind and rain. Compelled by parish law to support his - family, which means to join them in consuming an allowance from - the parish, he frequently conspires with his wife to get that - allowance increased, or prevent its being diminished. This brings - begging, trickery, and quarrelling; and ends in settled craft. - Though he has the inclination he wants the courage to become, - like more energetic men of his class, a poacher or smuggler on - a large scale; but he pilfers occasionally, and teaches his - children to lie and steal. His subdued and slavish manner toward - his great neighbours shows that they treat him with suspicion - and harshness. Consequently he at once dreads and hates them; - but he will never harm them by violent means. Too degraded to be - desperate, he is only thoroughly depraved. His miserable career - will be short; rheumatism and asthma are conducting him to the - workhouse, where he will breathe his last without one pleasant - recollection, and so make room for another wretch, who may live - and die in the same way. This is a sample of one class of English - peasants. Another class is composed of men who, though paupers - to the extent of being in part supported by the parish, were not - bred and born in extreme destitution, and who, therefore, in so - far as the moral depends on the physical man, are qualified to - become wise, virtuous, and happy. They have large muscles, an - upright mien, and a quick perception. With strength, energy, and - skill, they would earn a comfortable subsistence as labourers, - if the modern fashion of paying wages out of the poor-box did - not interfere with the due course of things, and reduce all - the labourers of a parish, the old and the young, the weak - and the strong, the idle and the industrious, to that lowest - rate of wages, or rather of weekly payment to each, which, in - each case, is barely sufficient for the support of life. If - there were no poor-laws, or if the poor-laws were such that - labour was paid in proportion to the work performed, and not - according to a scale founded on the power of gastric juice under - various circumstances, these superior men would be employed in - preference to the inferior beings described above, would earn - twice as much as the others could earn, and would have every - motive for industry, providence, and general good conduct. As - it is, their superior capacity as labourers is of no advantage - to them. They have no motive for being industrious or prudent. - What they obtain between labour and the rate is but just enough - to support them miserably. They are tempted to marry for the - sake of an extra allowance from the parish: and they would be - sunk to the lowest point of degradation but for the energy of - their minds, which they owe to their physical strength. Courage - and tenderness are said to be allied: men of this class usually - make good husbands and affectionate parents. Impelled by want of - food, clothes, and warmth, for themselves and their families, - they become poachers wherever game abounds, and smugglers when - opportunity serves. By poaching or smuggling, or both, many of - them are enabled to fill the bellies of their children, to put - decent clothes on the backs of their wives, and to keep the - cottage whole, with a good fire in it, from year's end to year's - end. The villains! why are they not taken up? They are taken up - sometimes, and are hunted always, by those who administer rural - law. In this way they learn to consider two sets of laws—those - for the protection of game, and those for the protection of - home manufactures—as specially made for their injury. Be just - to our unpaid magistrates! who perform their duty, even to the - shedding of man's blood, in defence of pheasants and restrictions - on trade. Thus the bolder sort of husbandry labourers, by - engaging in murderous conflicts with gamekeepers and preventive - men, become accustomed to deeds of violence, and, by living - in jails, qualified for the most desperate courses. They also - imbibe feelings of dislike, or rather of bitter hatred, toward - the rural magistracy, whom they regard as oppressors and natural - enemies; closely resembling, in this respect, the defective - class of peasants from whom they differ in so many particulars. - Between these two descriptions of peasantry there is another, - which partakes of the characteristics of both classes, but in - a slighter degree, except as regards their fear and hatred of - the rural aristocracy. In the districts where paupers and game - abound, it would be difficult to find many labourers not coming - under one of these descriptions. By courtesy, the entire body - is called the bold peasantry of England. But is nothing done by - the 'nobility, clergy, and gentry,' to conciliate the affection - of the pauper mass, by whose toil all their own wealth is - produced? Charity! The charity of the poor-laws, which paupers - have been taught to consider a right, which operates as a curse - to the able-bodied and well-disposed, while it but just enables - the infirm of all ages to linger on in pain and sorrow. Soup! - Dogs'-meat, the paupers call it. They are very ungrateful; but - there is a way of relieving a man's necessities which will make - him hate you; and it is in this way, generally, that soup is - given to the poor. Books, good little books, which teach patience - and submission to the powers that be! With which such paupers - as obtain them usually boil their kettles, when not deterred by - fear of the reverend donor. Of this gift the design is so plain - and offensive, that its effect is contrary to what was intended, - just as children from whom obedience is very strictly exacted are - commonly rebels at heart. What else? is nothing else done by the - rural rich to win the love of the rural poor? Speaking generally, - since all rules have exceptions, the privileged classes of our - rural districts take infinite pains to be abhorred by their - poorest neighbours. They enclose commons. They stop footpaths. - They wall in their parks. They set spring-guns and man-traps. - They spend on the keep of high-bred dogs what would support half - as many children, and yet persecute a labouring man for owning - one friend in his cur. They make rates of wages, elaborately - calculating the minimum of food that will keep together the soul - and body of a clodhopper. They breed game in profusion for their - own amusement, and having thus tempted the poor man to knock - down a hare for his pot, they send him to the treadmill, or the - antipodes, for that inexpiable offence. They build jails, and - fill them. They make new crimes and new punishments for the poor. - They interfere with the marriages of the poor, compelling some, - and forbidding others, to come together. They shut up paupers in - workhouses, separating husband and wife, in pounds by day and - wards by night. They harness poor men to carts. They superintend - alehouses, decry skittles, deprecate beer-shops, meddle with - fairs, and otherwise curtail the already narrow amusements of - the poor. Even in church, where some of them solemnly preach - that all are equal, they sit on cushions, in pews boarded, - matted, and sheltered by curtains from the wind and the vulgar - gaze, while the lower order must put up with a bare bench on a - stone floor, which is good enough for them. Everywhere they are - ostentatious in the display of wealth and enjoyment; while, in - their intercourse with the poor, they are suspicious, quick at - taking offence, vindictive when displeased, haughty, overbearing, - tyrannical, and wolfish; as it seems in the nature of man to be - toward such of his fellows as, like sheep, are without the power - to resist." - -In London, a species of slavery pertains to the workhouse system which -has justly excited much indignation. This is the employment of paupers -as scavengers in the streets, without due compensation, and compelling -them to wear badges, as if they were convicted criminals. Mr. Mayhew -has some judicious remarks upon this subject:— - - "If pauperism be a disgrace, then it is unjust to turn a man into - the public thoroughfare, wearing the badge of beggary, to be - pointed at and scorned for his poverty, especially when we are - growing so particularly studious of our criminals that we make - them wear masks to prevent even their faces being seen.[91] Nor - is it consistent with the principles of an enlightened national - morality that we should force a body of honest men to labour - upon the highways, branded with a degrading garb, like convicts. - Neither is it _wise_ to do so, for the shame of poverty soon - becomes deadened by the repeated exposure to public scorn; and - thus the occasional recipient of parish relief is ultimately - converted into the hardened and habitual pauper. "Once a pauper - always a pauper," I was assured was the parish rule; and here - lies the _rationale_ of the fact. Not long ago this system of - employing _badged_ paupers to labour on the public thoroughfares - was carried to a much more offensive extent than it is even at - present. At one time the pauper labourers of a certain parish - had the attention of every passer-by attracted to them while at - their work, for on the back of each man's garb—a sort of smock - frock—was marked, with sufficient prominence, 'CLERKENWELL. - STOP IT!' This public intimation that the labourers were not - only paupers, but regarded as thieves, and expected to purloin - the parish dress they wore, attracted public attention, and was - severely commented upon at a meeting. The 'STOP IT!' therefore - was cancelled, and the frocks are now _merely_ lettered - 'CLERKENWELL.' Before the alteration the men very generally wore - the garment inside out." - -The pauper scavengers employed by the metropolitan parishes are -divided into three classes: 1. The in-door paupers, who receive no -wages whatever, their lodging, food, and clothing being considered to -be sufficient remuneration for their labour; 2. The out-door paupers, -who are paid partly in money and partly in kind, and employed in some -cases three days, and in others six days in the week; 3. The unemployed -labourers of the district, who are set to scavenging work by the -parish and paid a regular money-wage—the employment being constant, -and the rate of remuneration varying from 1_s._ 3_d._ to 2_s._ 6_d._ a -day for each of the six days, or from 7_s._ 6_d._ to 15_s._ a week. - -The first class of pauper-scavengers, or those who receive nothing for -their labour beyond their lodging, food, and clothing, are treated as -slaves. The labour is compulsory, without inducements for exertion, -and conducted upon the same system which the authorities of the -parish would use for working cattle. One of these scavengers gave the -following account of this degrading labour to Mr. Mayhew:— - - "'Street-sweeping,' he said, 'degrades a man, and if a man's poor - he hasn't no call to be degraded. Why can't they set the thieves - and pickpockets to sweep? they could be watched easy enough; - there's always idle fellers as reckons theirselves real gents, - as can be got for watching and sitch easy jobs, for they gets - as much for them as three men's paid for hard work in a week. I - never was in a prison, but I've heerd that people there is better - fed and better cared for than in workusses. What's the meaning of - that, sir, I'd like to know. You can't tell me, but I can tell - you. The workus is made as ugly as it can be, that poor people - may be got to leave it, and chance dying in the street rather.' - [Here the man indulged in a gabbled detail of a series of pauper - grievances which I had a difficulty in diverting or interrupting. - On my asking if the other paupers had the same opinion as to the - street-sweeping as he had, he replied:—] 'To be sure they has; - all them that has sense to have a 'pinion at all has; there's - not two sides to it anyhow. No, I don't want to be kept and do - nothink. I want _proper_ work. And by the rights of it I might - as well be kept with nothink to do as — or —' [parish - officials]. 'Have they nothing to do?' I asked. 'Nothink, but to - make mischief and get what ought to go to the poor. It's salaries - and such like as swallers the rates, and that's what every poor - family knows as knows any think. Did I ever like my work better? - Certainly not. Do I take any pains with it? Well, where would be - the good? I can sweep well enough, when I please, but if I could - do more than the best man as ever Mr. Drake paid a pound a week - to, it wouldn't be a bit better for me—not a bit, sir, I assure - you. We all takes it easy whenever we can, but the work _must_ be - done. The only good about it is that you get outside the house. - It's a change that way certainly. But we work like horses and is - treated like asses.'" - -The second mode of pauper scavenging, viz. that performed by out-door -paupers, and paid for partly in money and partly in kind, is strongly -condemned, as having mischievous and degrading tendencies. The men -thus employed are certainly not independent labourers, though the -means of their subsistence are partly the fruits of their toil. -Their exceedingly scant payment keeps them hard at work for a very -unreasonable period. Should they refuse to obey the parish regulations -in regard to the work, the pangs of hunger are sure to reach them and -compel them to submit. Death is the only door of escape. From a married -man employed by the parish in this work, Mr. Mayhew obtained the -following interesting narrative, which is a sad revelation of pauper -slavery:— - - "'I was brought up as a type-founder; my father, who was one, - learnt me his trade; but he died when I was quite a young man, - or I might have been better perfected in it. I was comfortably - off enough then, and got married. Very soon after that I was - taken ill with an abscess in my neck, you can see the mark of it - still,' [He showed me the mark.] 'For six months I wasn't able - to do a thing, and I was a part of the time, I don't recollect - how long, in St. Bartholomew's Hospital. I was weak and ill when - I came out, and hardly fit for work; I couldn't hear of any work - I could get, for there was a great bother in the trade between - master and men. Before I went into the hospital, there was money - to pay to doctors; and when I came out I could earn nothing, so - every thing went; yes, sir, every thing. My wife made a little - matter with charing for families she'd lived in, but things are - in a bad way if a poor woman has to keep her husband. She was - taken ill at last, and then there was nothing but the parish - for us. I suffered a great deal before it come to that. It was - awful. No one can know what it is but them that suffers it. But I - didn't know what in the world to do. We lived then in St. Luke's, - and were passed to our own parish, and were three months in the - workhouse. The living was good enough, better than it is now, - I've heard, but I was miserable.' ['And I was _very_ miserable,' - interposed the wife, 'for I had been brought up comfortable; my - father was a respectable tradesman in St. George's-in-the-East, - and I had been in good situations.'] 'We made ourselves,' said - the husband, 'as useful as we could, but we were parted of - course. At the three months' end, I had 10_s._ given to me to - come out with, and was told I might start costermongering on it. - But to a man not up to the trade, 10_s._ won't go very far to - keep up costering. I didn't feel master enough of my own trade by - this time to try for work at it, and work wasn't at all regular. - There were good hands earning only 12_s._ a week. The 10_s._ - soon went, and I had again to apply for relief, and got an order - for the stone-yard to go and break stones. Ten bushels was to be - broken for 15_d._ It was dreadful hard work at first. My hands - got all blistered and bloody, and I've gone home and cried with - pain and wretchedness. At first it was on to three days before - I could break the ten bushels. I felt shivered to bits all over - my arms and shoulders, and my head was splitting. I then got to - do it in two days, and then in one, and it grew easier. But all - this time I had only what was reckoned three days' work in a - week. That is, you see, sir, I had only three times ten bushels - of stones given to break in a week, and earned only 3_s._ 9_d._ - Yes, I lived on it, and paid 1_s._ 6_d._ a week rent, for the - neighbours took care of a few sticks for us, and the parish or a - broker wouldn't have found them worth carriage. My wife was then - in the country with a sister. I lived upon bread and dripping, - went without fire or candle (or had one only very seldom) though - it wasn't warm weather. I can safely say that for eight weeks - I never tasted one bite of meat, and hardly a bite of butter. - When I couldn't sleep of a night, but that wasn't often, it was - terrible, very. I washed what bits of things I had then, myself, - and had sometimes to get a ha'porth of soap as a favour, as the - chandler said she 'didn't make less than a penn'orth.' If I ate - too much dripping, it made me feel sick. I hardly know how much - bread and dripping I ate in a week. I spent what money I had - in it and bread, and sometimes went without. I was very weak, - you may be sure, sir; and if I'd had the influenza or any thing - that way, I should have gone off like a shot, for I seemed to - have no constitution left. But my wife came back again and got - work at charing, and made about 4_s._ a week at it; but we were - still very badly off. Then I got to work on the roads every day, - and had 1_s._ and a quartern loaf a day, which was a rise. I - had only one child then, but men with larger families got two - quartern loaves a day. Single men got 9_d._ a day. It was far - easier work than stone-breaking too. The hours were from eight - to five in winter, and from seven to six in summer. But there's - always changes going on, and we were put on 1_s._ 1½_d._ a - day and a quartern loaf, and only three days a week. All the - same as to time of course. The bread wasn't good; it was only - cheap. I suppose there was twenty of us working most of the - times as I was. The gangsman, as you call him, but that's more - for the regular hands, was a servant of the parish, and a great - tyrant. Yes, indeed, when we had a talk among ourselves, there - was nothing but grumbling heard of. Some of the tales I've heard - were shocking; worse than what I've gone through. Everybody was - grumbling, except perhaps two men that had been twenty years in - the streets, and were like born paupers. They didn't feel it, - for there's a great difference in men. They knew no better. But - anybody might have been frightened to hear some of the men talk - and curse. We've stopped work to abuse the parish officers as - might be passing. We've mobbed the overseers; and a number of - us, I was one, were taken before the magistrate for it: but we - told him how badly we were off, and he discharged us, and gave us - orders into the workhouse, and told 'em to see if nothing could - be done for us. We were there till next morning, and then sent - away without any thing being said.'" - - "'It's a sad life, sir, is a parish worker's. I wish to God I - could get out of it. But when a man has children he can't stop - and say, "I can't do this," and "I won't do that." Last week, - now, in costering, I lost 6_s._ [he meant that his expenses, of - every kind, exceeded his receipts by 6_s._,] and though I can - distil nectar, or any thing that way, [this was said somewhat - laughingly,] it's only when the weather's hot and fine that any - good at all can be done with it. I think, too, that there's - not the money among working-men that there once was. Any thing - regular in the way of pay must always be looked at by a man with - a family. - - "'Of course the streets must be properly swept, and if I can - sweep them as well as Mr. Dodd's men, for I know one of them very - well, why should I have only 1_s._ 4½_d._ a week and three - loaves, and he have 16_s._, I think it is. I don't drink, my - wife knows I don't, [the wife assented,] and it seems as if in a - parish a man must be kept down when he is down, and then blamed - for it. I may not understand all about it, but it looks queer."' - -The third system of parish work, where the labourer is employed -regularly, and paid a certain sum out of the parochial fund, is -superior to either of the other modes; but still, the labourers are -very scantily paid, subjected to a great deal of tyranny by brutal -officers, and miserably provided. They endure the severest toil for a -wretched pittance, without being able to choose their masters or their -employment. No slaves could be more completely at the mercy of their -masters. - -The common practice of apprenticing children born and reared in -workhouses, to masters who may feed, clothe, and beat them as they -please, is touchingly illustrated in Dickens's famous story of Oliver -Twist. After Oliver had been subjected for some time to the tender -mercies of guardians and overseers in the workhouse, it was advertised -that any person wanting an apprentice could obtain him, and five -pounds as a premium. He narrowly escaped being apprenticed to a sweep, -and finally fell into the hands of Mr. Sowerberry, an undertaker. In -the house of that dismal personage, he was fed upon cold bits, badly -clothed, knocked about unmercifully, and worked with great severity. -Such is the common fate of parish apprentices; and we do not think -a more truthful conception of the _beauties_ of the system could be -conveyed than by quoting from the experience of Dickens's workhouse -boy:— - - "Oliver had not been within the walls of the workhouse a quarter - of an hour, and had scarcely completed the demolition of a second - slice of bread, when Mr. Bumble, who had handed him over to the - care of an old woman, returned, and, telling him it was a board - night, informed him that the board had said he was to appear - before it forthwith. - - "Not having a very clearly defined notion what a live board was, - Oliver was rather astounded by this intelligence, and was not - quite certain whether he ought to laugh or cry. He had no time - to think about the matter, however; for Mr. Bumble gave him a - tap on the head with his cane to wake him up, and another on his - back to make him lively, and, bidding him follow, conducted him - into a large whitewashed room, where eight or ten fat gentlemen - were sitting round a table, at the top of which, seated in an - armchair rather higher than the rest, was a particularly fat - gentleman with a very round, red face. - - "'Bow to the board,' said Bumble. Oliver brushed away two or - three tears that were lingering in his eyes, and seeing no board - but the table, fortunately bowed to that. - - "'What's your name, boy?' said the gentleman in the high chair. - - "Oliver was frightened at the sight of so many gentlemen, which - made him tremble: and the beadle gave him another tap behind, - which made him cry; and these two causes made him answer in a - very low and hesitating voice; whereupon a gentleman in a white - waistcoat said he was a fool, which was a capital way of raising - his spirit, and putting him quite at his ease. - - "'Boy,' said the gentleman in the high chair: 'listen to me. You - know you're an orphan, I suppose?'" - - "'What's that, sir?" inquired poor Oliver. - - "'The boy _is_ a fool—I thought he was,' said the gentleman - in the white waistcoat in a very decided tone. If one member - of a class be blessed with an intuitive perception of others - of the same race, the gentleman in the white waistcoat was - unquestionably well qualified to pronounce an opinion on the - matter. - - "'Hush!' said the gentleman who had spoken first. 'You know - you've got no father or mother, and that you are brought up by - the parish, don't you?' - - "'Yes, sir,' replied Oliver, weeping bitterly. - - "'What are you crying for?' inquired the gentleman in the white - waistcoat; and to be sure it was very extraordinary. What _could_ - he be crying for? - - "'I hope you say your prayers every night,' said another - gentleman in a gruff voice, 'and pray for the people who feed - you, and take care of you, like a Christian.' - - "'Yes, sir,' stammered the boy. The gentleman who spoke last was - unconsciously right. It would have been _very_ like a Christian, - and a marvellously good Christian, too, if Oliver had prayed for - the people who fed and took care of _him_. But he hadn't, because - nobody had taught him. - - "'Well you have come here to be educated, and taught a useful - trade,' said the red-faced gentleman in the high chair. - - "'So you'll begin to pick oakum to-morrow morning at six - o'clock,' added the surly one in the white waistcoat. - - "For the combination of both these blessings in the one simple - process of picking oakum, Oliver bowed low by the direction of - the beadle, and was then hurried away to a large ward, where, - on a rough hard bed, he sobbed himself to sleep. What a noble - illustration of the tender laws of this favoured country! they - let the paupers go to sleep! - - "Poor Oliver! he little thought, as he lay sleeping in happy - unconsciousness of all around him, that the board had that very - day arrived at a decision which would exercise the most material - influence over all his future fortunes. But they had. And this - was it:— - - "The members of this board were very sage, deep, philosophical - men; and when they came to turn their attention to the workhouse, - they found out at once, what ordinary folks would never have - discovered,—the poor people liked it! It was a regular place - of public entertainment for the poorer classes,—a tavern where - there was nothing to pay,—a public breakfast, dinner, tea, and - supper, all the year round,—a brick and mortar elysium, where - it was all play and no work. 'Oho!' said the board, looking very - knowing; 'we are the fellows to set this to rights; we'll stop - it all in no time.' So they established the rule, that all poor - people should have the alternative (for they would compel nobody, - not they,) of being starved by a gradual process in the house, - or by a quick one out of it. With this view, they contracted - with the water-works to lay on an unlimited supply of water, and - with a corn-factor to supply periodically small quantities of - oat-meal: and issued three meals of thin gruel a-day, with an - onion twice a week, and half a roll on Sundays. They made a great - many other wise and humane regulations having reference to the - ladies, which it is not necessary to repeat; kindly undertook to - divorce poor married people, in consequence of the great expense - of a suit in Doctors' Commons; and, instead of compelling a - man to support his family, as they had theretofore done, took - his family away from him, and made him a bachelor! There is no - telling how many applicants for relief under these last two heads - would not have started up in all classes of society, if it had - not been coupled with the workhouse. But they were long-headed - men, and they had provided for this difficulty. The relief was - inseparable from the workhouse and the gruel; and that frightened - people. - - "For the first three months after Oliver Twist was removed, the - system was in full operation. It was rather expensive at first, - in consequence of the increase in the undertaker's bill, and the - necessity of taking in the clothes of all the paupers, which - fluttered loosely on their wasted, shrunken forms, after a week - or two's gruel. But the number of workhouse inmates got thin, as - well as the paupers; and the board were in ecstasies. The room - in which the boys were fed was a large stone hall, with a copper - at one end, out of which the master, dressed in an apron for - the purpose, and assisted by one or two women, ladled the gruel - at meal-times; of which composition each boy had one porringer, - and no more,—except on festive occasions, and then he had two - ounces and a quarter of bread besides. The bowls never wanted - washing—the boys polished them with their spoons, till they - shone again; and when they had performed this operation, (which - never took very long, the spoons being nearly as large as the - bowls,) they would sit staring at the copper with such eager - eyes, as if they could devour the very bricks of which it was - composed; employing themselves meanwhile in sucking their fingers - most assiduously, with the view of catching up any stray splashes - of gruel that might have been cast thereon. Boys have generally - excellent appetites: Oliver Twist and his companions suffered - the tortures of slow starvation for three months; at last they - got so voracious and wild with hunger, that one boy, who was - tall for his age, and hadn't been used to that sort of thing, - (for his father had kept a small cook's shop,) hinted darkly to - his companions, that unless he had another basin of gruel _per - diem_, he was afraid he should some night eat the boy who slept - next him, who happened to be a weakly youth of tender age. He had - a wild, hungry eye, and they implicitly believed him. A council - was held; lots were cast who should walk up to the master after - supper that evening, and ask for more; and it fell to Oliver - Twist. - - The evening arrived: the boys took their places; the master, in - his cook's uniform, stationed himself at the copper; his pauper - assistants ranged themselves behind him; the gruel was served - out, and a long grace was said over the short commons. The gruel - disappeared, and the boys whispered to each other and winked at - Oliver, while his next neighbours nudged him. Child as he was, - he was desperate with hunger, and reckless with misery. He rose - from the table, and, advancing, basin and spoon in hand, to the - master, said, somewhat alarmed at his own temerity— - - "'Please, sir, I want some more.' - - "The master was a fat, healthy man, but he turned very pale. - He gazed in stupefied astonishment on the small rebel for some - seconds, and then clung for support to the copper. The assistants - were paralyzed with wonder, and the boys with fear. - - "'What!' said the master at length, in a faint voice. - - "'Please, sir,' replied Oliver, 'I want some more.' - - "The master aimed a blow at Oliver's head with the ladle, - pinioned him in his arms, and shrieked aloud for the beadle. - - "The board were sitting in solemn conclave, when Mr. Bumble - rushed into the room in great excitement, and addressing the - gentleman in the high chair, said— - - "'Mr. Limbkins, I beg your pardon, sir;—Oliver Twist has asked - for more.' There was a general start. Horror was depicted on - every countenance. - - "'For _more_!' said Mr. Limbkins. 'Compose yourself, Bumble, and - answer me distinctly. Do I understand that he asked for more, - after he had eaten the supper allotted by the dietary?' - - "'He did, sir,' replied Bumble. - - "'That boy will be hung,' said the gentleman in the white - waistcoat; 'I know that boy will be hung.' - - "Nobody controverted the prophetic gentleman's opinion. An - animated discussion took place. Oliver was ordered into instant - confinement; and a bill was next morning pasted on the outside of - the gate, offering a reward of five pounds to anybody who would - take Oliver Twist off the hands of the parish; in other words, - five pounds and Oliver Twist were offered to any man or woman who - wanted an apprentice to any trade, business, or calling. - - "'I never was more convinced of any thing in my life,' said the - gentleman in the white waistcoat, as he knocked at the gate and - read the bill next morning,—'I never was more convinced of any - thing in my life, than I am that that boy will come to be hung.' - - "For a week after the commission of the impious and profane - offence of asking for more, Oliver remained a close prisoner in - the dark and solitary room to which he had been consigned by the - wisdom and mercy of the board. It appears, at first sight, not - unreasonable to suppose, that, if he had entertained a becoming - feeling of respect for the prediction of the gentleman in the - white waistcoat, he would have established that sage individual's - prophetic character, once and for ever, by tying one end of his - pocket-handkerchief to a hook in the wall, and attaching himself - to the other. To the performance of this feat, however, there was - one obstacle, namely, that pocket-handkerchiefs being decided - articles of luxury, had been, for all future times and ages, - removed from the noses of paupers by the express order of the - board in council assembled, solemnly given and pronounced under - their hands and seals. There was a still greater obstacle in - Oliver's youth and childishness. He only cried bitterly all day; - and when the long, dismal night came on, he spread his little - hands before his eyes to shut out the darkness, and crouching in - the corner, tried to sleep, ever and anon waking with a start and - tremble, and drawing himself closer and closer to the wall, as if - to feel even its cold hard surface were a protection in the gloom - and loneliness which surrounded him. - - "Let it not be supposed by the enemies of 'the system,' that, - during the period of his solitary incarceration, Oliver was - denied the benefit of exercise, the pleasure of society, or the - advantages of religious consolation. As for exercise, it was nice - cold weather, and he was allowed to perform his ablutions every - morning under the pump, in a stone yard, in the presence of Mr. - Bumble, who prevented his catching cold, and caused a tingling - sensation to pervade his frame, by repeated applications of the - cane; as for society, he was carried every other day into the - hall where the boys dined, and there sociably flogged, as a - public warning and example; and, so far from being denied the - advantages of religious consolation, he was kicked into the same - apartment every evening at prayer-time, and there permitted to - listen to, and console his mind with, a general supplication of - the boys, containing a special clause therein inserted by the - authority of the board, in which they entreated to be made good, - virtuous, contented, and obedient, and to be guarded from the - sins and vices of Oliver Twist, whom the supplication distinctly - set forth to be under the exclusive patronage and protection - of the powers of wickedness, and an article direct from the - manufactory of the devil himself. - - "It chanced one morning, while Oliver's affairs were in - this auspicious and comfortable state, that Mr. Gamfield, - chimney-sweeper, was wending his way adown the High-street, - deeply cogitating in his mind his ways and means of paying - certain arrears of rent, for which his landlord had become rather - pressing. Mr. Gamfield's most sanguine calculation of funds - could not raise them within full five pounds of the desired - amount; and, in a species of arithmetical desperation, he was - alternately cudgelling his brains and his donkey, when, passing - the workhouse, his eyes encountered the bill on the gate. - - "'Woo!' said Mr. Gamfield to the donkey. - - "The donkey was in a state of profound abstraction—wondering, - probably, whether he was destined to be regaled with a - cabbage-stalk or two, when he had disposed of the two sacks of - soot with which the little cart was laden; so, without noticing - the word of command, he jogged onward. - - "Mr. Gamfield growled a fierce imprecation on the donkey - generally, but more particularly on his eyes; and running after - him, bestowed a blow on his head which would inevitably have - beaten in any skull but a donkey's; then, catching hold of the - bridle, he gave his jaw a sharp wrench, by way of gentle reminder - that he was not his own master; and, having by these means turned - him round, he gave him another blow on the head, just to stun him - until he came back again; and, having done so, walked to the gate - to read the bill. - - "The gentleman with the white waistcoat was standing at the - gate with his hands behind him, after having delivered himself - of some profound sentiments in the board-room. Having witnessed - the little dispute between Mr. Gamfield and the donkey, he smiled - joyously when that person came up to read the bill, for he saw - at once that Mr. Gamfield was just exactly the sort of master - Oliver Twist wanted. Mr. Gamfield smiled, too, as he perused - the document, for five pounds was just the sum he had been - wishing for; and, as to the boy with which it was encumbered, - Mr. Gamfield, knowing what the dietary of the workhouse was, - well knew he would be a nice small pattern, just the very thing - for register stoves. So he spelt the bill through again, from - beginning to end; and then, touching his fur cap in token of - humility, accosted the gentleman in the white waistcoat. - - "'This here boy, sir, wot the parish wants to 'prentis,' said Mr. - Gamfield. - - "'Yes, my man,' said the gentleman in the white waistcoat, with a - condescending smile, 'what of him?' - - "'If the parish vould like him to learn a light, pleasant - trade, in a good 'spectable chimbley-sweepin bisness,' said Mr. - Gamfield, 'I wants a 'prentis, and I'm ready to take him.' - - "'Walk in,' said the gentleman with the white waistcoat. And Mr. - Gamfield having lingered behind, to give the donkey another blow - on the head, and another wrench of the jaw, as a caution not to - run away in his absence, followed the gentleman in the white - waistcoat into the room where Oliver had first seen him. - - "'It's a nasty trade,' said Mr. Limbkins, when Gamfield had again - stated his case. - - "'Young boys have been smothered in chimeys, before now,' said - another gentleman. - - "'That's acause they damped the straw afore they lit it in the - chimbley to make'em come down again,' said Gamfield; 'that's - all smoke, and no blaze: vereas smoke a'n't o' no use at all in - makin' a boy come down; it only sinds him to sleep, and that's - wot he likes. Boys is wery obstinit, and wery lazy, gen'lm'n, - and there's nothink like a good hot blaze to make em come down - vith a run; it's humane, too, gen'lm'n, acause, even if they've - stuck in the chimbley, roastin' their feet makes 'em struggle to - hextricate theirselves.' - - "The gentleman in the white waistcoat appeared very much amused - with this explanation; but his mirth was speedily checked by a - look from Mr. Limbkins. The board then proceeded to converse - among themselves for a few minutes, but in so low a tone that - the words, 'saving of expenditure,' 'look well in the accounts,' - 'have a printed report published,' were alone audible; and - they only chanced to be heard on account of their being very - frequently repeated with great emphasis. - - "At length the whispering ceased, and the members of the board - having resumed their seats and their solemnity, Mr. Limbkins said, - - "'We have considered your proposition, and we don't approve of - it.' - - "'Not at all,' said the gentleman in the white waistcoat. - - "'Decidedly not,' added the other members. - - "As Mr. Gamfield did happen to labour under the slight imputation - of having bruised three or four boys to death already, it - occurred to him that the board had perhaps, in some unaccountable - freak, taken it into their heads that this extraneous - circumstance ought to influence their proceedings. It was very - unlike their general mode of doing business, if they had; but - still, as he had no particular wish to revive the rumour, he - twisted his cap in his hands, and walked slowly from the table. - - "'So you won't let me have him, gen'lmen,' said Mr. Gamfield, - pausing near the door. - - "'No,' replied Mr. Limbkins; 'at least, as it's a nasty business, - we think you ought to take something less than the premium we - offered.' - - "Mr. Gamfield's countenance brightened, as with a quick step he - returned to the table, and said, - - "'What'll you give, gen'lmen? Come, don't be too hard on a poor - man. What'll you give?' - - "'I should say three pound ten was plenty,' said Mr. Limbkins. - - "'Ten shillings too much,' said the gentleman in the white - waistcoat. - - "'Come,' said Gamfield, 'say four pound, gen'lmen. Say four - pound, and you've got rid of him for good and all. There!' - - "'Three pound ten,' repeated Mr. Limbkins, firmly. - - "'Come, I'll split the difference, gen'lmen,' urged Gamfield. - 'Three pound fifteen.' - - "'Not a farthing more,' was the firm reply of Mr. Limbkins. - - "'You're desp'rate hard upon me, gen'lmen,' said Gamfield, - wavering. - - "'Pooh! pooh! nonsense!' said the gentleman in the white - waistcoat. 'He'd be cheap with nothing at all as a premium. Take - him, you silly fellow! He's just the boy for you. He wants the - stick now and then; it'll do him good; and his board needn't come - very expensive, for he hasn't been overfed since he was born. Ha! - ha! ha!' - - "Mr. Gamfield gave an arch look at the faces round the table, - and, observing a smile on all of them, gradually broke into - a smile himself. The bargain was made, and Mr. Bumble was at - once instructed that Oliver Twist and his indentures were to be - conveyed before the magistrate for signature and approval, that - very afternoon. - - "In pursuance of this determination, little Oliver, to his - excessive astonishment, was released from bondage, and ordered to - put himself into a clean shirt. He had hardly achieved this very - unusual gymnastic performance, when Mr. Bumble brought him with - his own hands, a basin of gruel, and the holiday allowance of two - ounces and a quarter of bread; at sight of which Oliver began to - cry very piteously, thinking, not unnaturally, that the board - must have determined to kill him for some useful purpose, or they - never would have begun to fatten him up in this way. - - "'Don't make your eyes red, Oliver, but eat your food, and be - thankful,' said Mr. Bumble, in a tone of impressive pomposity. - - 'You're a-going to be made a 'prentice of, Oliver.' - - "'A 'prentice, sir!' said the child, trembling. - - "'Yes, Oliver,' said Mr. Bumble. 'The kind and blessed gentlemen - which is so many parents to you, Oliver, when you have none - of your own, are a-going to 'prentice you, and to set you up - in life, and make a man of you, although the expense to the - parish is three pound ten!—three pound ten, Oliver!—seventy - shillin's!—one hundred and forty sixpences!—and all for a - naughty orphan which nobody can love.' - - "As Mr. Bumble paused to take breath after delivering this - address, in an awful voice, the tears rolled down the poor - child's face, and he sobbed bitterly. - - "'Come,' said Mr. Bumble, somewhat less pompously; for it was - gratifying to his feelings to observe the effect his eloquence - had produced. 'Come, Oliver, wipe your eyes with the cuffs of - your jacket, and don't cry into your gruel; that's a very foolish - action, Oliver.' It certainly was, for there was quite enough - water in it already. - - "On their way to the magistrate's, Mr. Bumble instructed Oliver - that all he would have to do would be to look very happy, - and say, when the gentleman asked him if he wanted to be - apprenticed, that he should like it very much indeed; both of - which injunctions Oliver promised to obey, the more readily as - Mr. Bumble threw in a gentle hint, that if he failed in either - particular, there was no telling what would be done to him. When - they arrived at the office he was shut up in a little room by - himself, and admonished by Mr. Bumble to stay there until he came - back to fetch him. - - "There the boy remained with a palpitating heart for half an - hour, at the expiration of which time Mr. Bumble thrust in his - head, unadorned with the cocked hat, and said aloud, - - "'Now, Oliver, my dear, come to the gentleman.' As Mr. Bumble - said this, he put on a grim and threatening look, and added in a - low voice, 'Mind what I told you, you young rascal.' - - "Oliver stared innocently in Mr. Bumble's face at this somewhat - contradictory style of address; but that gentleman prevented his - offering any remark thereupon, by leading him at once into an - adjoining room, the door of which was open. It was a large room - with a great window; and behind a desk sat two old gentlemen with - powdered heads, one of whom was reading the newspaper, while the - other was perusing, with the aid of a pair of tortoise-shell - spectacles, a small piece of parchment which lay before him. Mr. - Limbkins was standing in front of the desk, on one side; and Mr. - Gamfield, with a partially washed face, on the other; while two - or three bluff-looking men in top-boots were lounging about. - - "The old gentleman with the spectacles gradually dozed off, over - the little bit of parchment; and there was a short pause after - Oliver had been stationed by Mr. Bumble in front of the desk. - - "'This is the boy, your worship,' said Mr. Bumble. - - "The old gentleman who was reading the newspaper raised his head - for a moment, and pulled the other old gentleman by the sleeve, - whereupon the last-mentioned old gentleman woke up. - - "'Oh, is this the boy?' said the old gentleman. - - "'This is him, sir,' replied Mr. Bumble. 'Bow to the magistrate, - my dear.' - - "Oliver roused himself, and made his best obeisance. He had - been wondering, with his eyes fixed on the magistrate's powder, - whether all boards were born with that white stuff on their - heads, and were boards from thenceforth, on that account. - - "'Well,' said the old gentleman, 'I suppose he's fond of - chimney-sweeping?' - - "'He dotes on it, your worship,' replied Bumble, giving Oliver a - sly pinch, to intimate that he had better not say he didn't. - - "'And he _will_ be a sweep, will he?' inquired the old gentleman. - - "'If we was to bind him to any other trade to-morrow, he'd run - away simultaneously, your worship,' replied Bumble. - - "'And this man that's to be his master,—you, sir,—you'll treat - him well, and feed him, and do all that sort of thing,—will - you?' said the old gentleman. - - "'When I says I will, I means I will,' replied Mr. Gamfield, - doggedly. - - "'You're a rough speaker, my friend, but you look an honest, - open-hearted man,' said the old gentleman, turning his spectacles - in the direction of the candidate for Oliver's premium, whose - villanous countenance was a regular stamped receipt for cruelty. - But the magistrate was half blind, and half childish, so he - couldn't reasonably be expected to discern what other people did. - - "'I hope I am, sir,' said Mr. Gamfield with an ugly leer. - - "'I have no doubt you are, my friend,' replied the old gentleman, - fixing his spectacles more firmly on his nose, and looking about - him for the inkstand. - - "It was the critical moment of Oliver's fate. If the inkstand - had been where the old gentleman thought it was, he would have - dipped his pen into it and signed the indentures, and Oliver - would have been straightway hurried off. But, as it chanced to be - immediately under his nose, it followed as a matter of course, - that he looked all over his desk for it, without finding it; and - happening in the course of his search to look straight before - him, his gaze encountered the pale and terrified face of Oliver - Twist, who, despite of all the admonitory looks and pinches of - Bumble, was regarding the very repulsive countenance of his - future master with a mingled expression of horror and fear, too - palpable to be mistaken even by a half-blind magistrate. - - "The old gentleman stopped, laid down his pen, and looked from - Oliver to Mr. Limbkins, who attempted to take snuff with a - cheerful and unconcerned aspect. - - "'My boy,' said the old gentleman, leaning over the desk. Oliver - started at the sound,—he might be excused for doing so, for - the words were kindly said, and strange sounds frighten one. He - trembled violently, and burst into tears. - - "'My boy,' said the old gentleman, 'you look pale and alarmed. - What is the matter?' - - "'Stand a little away from him, beadle,' said the other - magistrate, laying aside the paper and leaning forward with - an expression of some interest. 'Now, boy, tell us what's the - matter; don't be afraid.' - - "Oliver fell on his knees, and, clasping his hands together, - prayed that they would order him back to the dark room—that they - would starve him—beat him—kill him if they pleased, rather than - send him away with that dreadful man. - - "'Well!' said Mr. Bumble, raising his hands and eyes with most - impressive solemnity—'Well! of _all_ the artful and designing - orphans that ever I see, Oliver, you are one of the most - bare-facedest.' - - "'Hold your tongue, beadle,' said the second old gentleman, when - Mr. Bumble had given vent to this compound adjective. - - "'I beg your worship's pardon,' said Mr. Bumble, incredulous of - his having heard aright—'did your worship speak to me?' - - "'Yes—hold your tongue.' - - "Mr. Bumble was stupefied with astonishment. A beadle ordered to - hold his tongue! A moral revolution. - - "The old gentleman in the tortoise-shell spectacles looked at his - companion; he nodded significantly. - - "'We refuse to sanction these indentures,' said the old - gentleman, tossing aside the piece of parchment as he spoke. - - "'I hope,' stammered Mr. Limbkins—'I hope the magistrates will - not form the opinion that the authorities have been guilty of any - improper conduct, on the unsupported testimony of a mere child.' - - "'The magistrates are not called upon to pronounce any opinion on - the matter,' said the second old gentleman, sharply. 'Take the - boy back to the workhouse and treat him kindly; he seems to want - it.' - - "That same evening the gentleman in the white waistcoat most - positively and decidedly affirmed, not only that Oliver would be - hung, but that he would be drawn and quartered into the bargain. - Mr. Bumble shook his head with gloomy mystery, and said he wished - he might come to good: to which Mr. Gamfield replied that he - wished he might come to him, which, although he agreed with the - beadle in most matters, would seem to be a wish of a totally - opposite description. - - "The next morning the public were once more informed that Oliver - Twist was again to let, and that five pounds would be paid to - anybody who would take possession of him. - - "In great families, when an advantageous place cannot be - obtained, either in possession, reversion, remainder, or - expectancy, for the young man who is growing up, it is a very - general custom to send him to sea. The board, in imitation - of so wise and salutary an example, took counsel together on - the expediency of shipping off Oliver Twist in some small - trading-vessel bound to a good unhealthy port, which suggested - itself as the very best thing that could possibly be done with - him; the probability being that the skipper would either flog him - to death in a playful mood, some day after dinner, or knock his - brains out with an iron bar, both pastimes being, as is pretty - generally known, very favourite and common recreations among - gentlemen of that class. The more the case presented itself to - the board in this point of view, the more manifold the advantages - of the step appeared; so they came to the conclusion that the - only way of providing for Oliver effectually, was to send him to - sea without delay. - - "Mr. Bumble had been despatched to make various preliminary - inquiries, with the view of finding out some captain or other - who wanted a cabin-boy without any friends; and was returning - to the workhouse to communicate the result of his mission, - when he encountered just at the gate no less a person than Mr. - Sowerberry, the parochial undertaker. - - "Mr. Sowerberry was a tall, gaunt, large-jointed man, attired in - a suit of threadbare black, with darned cotton stockings of the - same colour, and shoes to answer. His features were not naturally - intended to wear a smiling aspect, but he was in general rather - given to professional jocosity; his step was elastic, and his - face betokened inward pleasantry as he advanced to Mr. Bumble and - shook him cordially by the hand. - - "'I have taken the measure of the two women that died last night, - Mr. Bumble,' said the undertaker. - - "'You'll make your fortune, Mr. Sowerberry,' said the beadle, as - he thrust his thumb and forefinger into the proffered snuff-box - of the undertaker, which was an ingenious little model of a - patent coffin. 'I say you'll make your fortune, Mr. Sowerberry,' - repeated Mr. Bumble, tapping the undertaker on the shoulder in a - friendly manner with his cane. - - "'Think so?' said the undertaker in a tone which half admitted - and half disputed the probability of the event. 'The prices - allowed by the board are very small, Mr. Bumble.' - - "'So are the coffins,' replied the beadle, with precisely as near - an approach to a laugh as a great official ought to indulge in. - - "Mr. Sowerberry was much tickled at this, as of course he ought - to be, and laughed a long time without cessation. 'Well, well, - Mr. Bumble,' he said at length, 'there's no denying that, since - the new system of feeding has come in, the coffins are something - narrower and more shallow than they used to be; but we must have - some profit, Mr. Bumble. Well-seasoned timber is an expensive - article, sir; and all the iron handles come by canal from - Birmingham.' - - "'Well, well,' said Mr. Bumble, 'every trade has its drawbacks, - and a fair profit is of course allowable.' - - "'Of course, of course,' replied the undertaker; 'and if I don't - get a profit upon this or that particular article, why I make it - up in the long run, you see—he! he! he!' - - "'Just so,' said Mr. Bumble. - - "'Though I must say,'—continued the undertaker, resuming - the current of observations which the beadle had - interrupted,—'though I must say, Mr. Bumble, that I have to - contend against one very great disadvantage, which is, that all - the stout people go off the quickest—I mean that the people who - have been better off, and have paid rates for many years, are - the first to sink when they come into the house; and let me tell - you, Mr. Bumble, that three or four inches over one's calculation - makes a great hole in one's profits, especially when one has a - family to provide for, sir.' - - "As Mr. Sowerberry said this, with the becoming indignation of - an ill-used man, and as Mr. Bumble felt that it rather tended - to convey a reflection on the honour of the parish, the latter - gentleman thought it advisable to change the subject; and Oliver - Twist being uppermost in his mind, he made him his theme. - - "'By-the-by,' said Mr. Bumble, 'you don't know anybody who - wants a boy, do you—a parochial 'prentis, who is at present - a dead-weight—a millstone, as I may say—round the parochial - throat? Liberal terms, Mr. Sowerberry—liberal terms;' and, as - Mr. Bumble spoke, he raised his cane to the bill above him and - gave three distinct raps upon the words 'five pounds,' which were - printed therein in Roman capitals of gigantic size. - - "'Gadso!' said the undertaker, taking Mr. Bumble by the - gilt-edged lappel of his official coat; 'that's just the very - thing I wanted to speak to you about. You know—dear me, what - a very elegant button this is, Mr. Bumble; I never noticed it - before.' - - "'Yes, I think it is rather pretty,' said the beadle, glancing - proudly downward at the large brass buttons which embellished - his coat. 'The die is the same as the parochial seal—the Good - Samaritan healing the sick and bruised man. The board presented - it to me on New-year's morning, Mr. Sowerberry. I put it on, - I remember, for the first time to attend the inquest on that - reduced tradesman who died in a doorway at midnight.' - - "' I recollect,' said the undertaker. 'The jury brought in—Died - from exposure to the cold, and want of the common necessaries of - life—didn't they?' - - "Mr. Bumble nodded. - - "'And they made it a special verdict, I think,' said the - undertaker, 'by adding some words to the effect, that if the - relieving officer had'— - - 'Tush—foolery!' interposed the beadle, angrily. 'If the board - attended to all the nonsense that ignorant jurymen talk, they'd - have enough to do.' - - "'Very true,' said the undertaker; 'they would indeed.' - - "'Juries,' said Mr. Bumble, grasping his cane tightly, as was his - wont when working into a passion—'juries is ineddicated, vulgar, - grovelling wretches.' - - "'So they are,' said the undertaker. - - "'They haven't no more philosophy or political economy about 'em - than that,' said the beadle, snapping his fingers contemptuously. - - "'No more they have,' acquiesced the undertaker. - - "'I despise 'em,' said the beadle, growing very red in the face. - - "'So do I,' rejoined the undertaker. - - "'And I only wish we'd a jury of the independent sort in the - house for a week or two,' said the beadle; 'the rules and - regulations of the board would soon bring their spirit down for - them.' - - "'Let'em alone for that,' replied the undertaker. So saying, he - smiled approvingly to calm the rising wrath of the indignant - parish officer. - - "Mr. Bumble lifted off his cocked-hat, took a handkerchief from - the inside of the crown, wiped from his forehead the perspiration - which his rage had engendered, fixed the cocked hat on again, - and, turning to the undertaker, said in a calmer voice, 'Well, - what about the boy?' - - "'Oh!' replied the undertaker; 'why, you know, Mr. Bumble, I pay - a good deal toward the poor's rates.' - - "'Hem!' said Mr. Bumble. 'Well?' - - "'Well,' replied the undertaker, 'I was thinking that if I pay so - much toward 'em, I've a right to get as much out of 'em as I can, - Mr. Bumble; and so—and so—I think I'll take the boy myself.' - - "Mr. Bumble grasped the undertaker by the arm and led him into - the building. Mr. Sowerberry was closeted with the board for five - minutes, and then it was arranged that Oliver should go to him - that evening 'upon liking'—a phrase which means, in the case of - a parish apprentice, that if the master find, upon a short trial, - that he can get enough work out of a boy without putting too much - food in him, he shall have him for a term of years to do what he - likes with. - - "When little Oliver was taken before 'the gentlemen' that - evening, and informed that he was to go that night as general - house-lad to a coffin-maker's, and that if he complained of his - situation, or ever came back to the parish again, he would be - sent to sea, there to be drowned or knocked on the head, as the - case might be, he evinced so little emotion, that they by common - consent pronounced him a hardened young rascal, and ordered Mr. - Bumble to remove him forthwith." - -Some years ago an investigation into the treatment of the poor in St. -Pancras workhouse was made. It originated in the suicide of a girl, -who, having left her place, drowned herself rather than return to the -workhouse to be confined in the "shed"—a place of confinement for -refractory and ill-disposed paupers. The unanimous verdict of the -coroner's jury was to this effect, and had appended to it an opinion -that the discipline of the shed was unnecessarily severe. This verdict -led to an investigation. - -Mr. Howarth, senior churchwarden, a guardian, and a barrister, -explained that the shed was used for separating able-bodied, idle, and -dissolute paupers from the aged and respectable inmates of the house. -The shed was not, he declared, a place of confinement any more than -the workhouse itself. The place in question consists of two rooms, a -day-room and a dormitory, on the basement of the main building, two -feet below the level of the soil, each about thirty-five feet long by -fifteen wide and seven high. The bedroom contains ten beds, occupied -sometimes by sixteen, sometimes by twenty or twenty-four paupers. -According to the hospital calculation of a cube of nine feet to an -occupant, the dormitory should accommodate six persons. The damp from -an adjoining cesspool oozes through the walls. This pleasant apartment -communicates with a yard forty feet long, and from fifteen to twenty -broad, with a flagged pavement and high walls. This yard is kept always -locked. But it is not a place of confinement. Oh no! it is a place of -separation. - -Let us see the evidence of James Hill, who waits on the occupants of -the shed:—"They are locked up night and day. They frequently escape -over the walls. They are put in for misconduct." - -Mr. Lee, the master of the workhouse, declares that if the persons in -the shed make application to come out, they are frequently released. -He is "not aware if he has any legal right to refuse them, but does -sometimes exercise that authority." One of the women is there for -throwing her clothes over the wall; another for getting "overtaken -in liquor" while out of the house, and losing her pail and brush. A -third inmate is a girl of weak intellect, who went out for a day, was -made drunk and insensible by a male pauper, and suffered dreadful -maltreatment. - -All the pauper witnesses represent the shed as a place of punishment. -The six ounces of meat given three times a week by the dietary, is -reduced to four ounces for the shed paupers. Still all this, in Mr. -Howarth's eyes, neither constitutes the shed a place of confinement -nor of punishment. It is a place of separation. So is a prison. It is -a prison in a prison; a lower depth in the lowest deep of workhouse -wretchedness and restraint. - -Are we to be told that this is "classification," (as the report of the -directors impudently calls it,) by which the young and old, imbecile -and drunken, sickly and turbulent, are shut up together day and night -picking oakum; looking out through the heavy day on the bare walls of -their wretched yard—at night breathing their own fœtid exhalations -and the miasma of a cesspool, twenty-four of them sometimes in a space -only fit to accommodate six with due regard to health and decency? And -all this at the arbitrary will of master or matron, unchecked by the -board! One poor creature had been there for three years. She had not -come out because "she was in such bad health, and had nowhere to go." -Yet she was shut up, because she was considered able bodied and fit for -work, when her appearance belied it, and spoke her broken spirit and -shattered constitution. - -Mr. W. Lee, guardian, seemed blessed with an unusual amount of -ignorance as to his legal powers and responsibilities. He kept no -account of persons confined in the black-hole, for forty-eight hours -sometimes, and without directions from the board. He thought the -matron had power to put paupers in the strong room. On one point he -was certain: he "had no doubt that persons have been confined without -his orders." He "had no doubt that he had received instructions from -the board about the refractory ward, but he does not know where to -find them." "If any paupers committed to the ward feel aggrieved, -they can apply to be released, and he had no doubt he would release -them." He made no weekly report of punishments. He reigned supreme, -monarch of all he surveyed, wielding the terrors of shed and black-hole -unquestioned and unchecked. - -In Miss Stone, the matron, he had a worthy coadjutrix. The lady felt -herself very much "degraded" by the coroner's jury. They asked her -some most inconvenient questions, to which she gave awkwardly ready -answers. She confined to the shed a girl who returned from place, -though she admitted the work of the place was too much for her. She -confessed she might have punished Jones (the suicide) by putting her -in the black-hole; but it was a mere trifle—"only a few hours" in an -underground cell, "perhaps from morning till night, for refusing to -do some domestic service." Jones was helpless; her mistress brought -her back to the workhouse. Jones cried, and begged to be taken back -to service, offering to work for nothing. Her recollections of the -workhouse do not seem to have been pleasant. Hard work, unpaid; -suicide; any thing rather than the shed. - -A precious testimony to the St. Pancras system of "classification!" -These paupers in the shed are clearly a refractory set. "They complain -of being shut up so long." "They say they would like more bread and -more meat." Audacious as Oliver Twist! They even complain of the damp -and bad smell. Ungrateful, dainty wretches! On the whole, as Mr. -Howarth says, it is evidently "unjust to suppose that the system of -separation adopted in the house is regarded as a mode of punishment." -The directors issued a solemn summons to the members of the parochial -medical board. District surgeons and consulting surgeons assembled, -inspected the shed, and pronounced it a very pleasant place if the roof -were higher, and if the ventilation were better, and if the damp were -removed, and if fewer slept in a bed, and six instead of twenty-four in -the room. They then examined the dietary, and pronounced it sufficient -if the allowances were of full weight, if the meat were of the best -quality, if there were plenty of milk in the porridge, and if the broth -were better. Great virtue in an "if!" Unhappily, in the present case, -the allowances were not full weight; the meat not of the best quality; -there is not milk enough in the porridge; and the broth might be very -much better, and yet not good. - -Mr. Cooper, the parish surgeon, was a special object of antipathy -to the worthy and humane Howarth; he was one of those ridiculously -particular men, unfit to deal with paupers. He actually objected to -the pauper women performing their ablutions in the urinals, and felt -aggrieved when the master told him to "mind his shop," and Howarth -stood by without rebuking the autocrat! Mr. Cooper, too, admits that -the dietary would be sufficient with all the above-mentioned "ifs." But -he finds that the milk porridge contains one quart of milk to six of -oat-meal; that the meat is half fat, and often uneatable from imperfect -cooking; and that the frequent stoppages of diet are destructive of -the health of the younger inmates. His remonstrances, however, have -been received in a style that has read him a lesson, and he ceases to -remonstrate accordingly, and the guardians have it as they would—a -silent surgeon and an omnipotent master. - -The saddest part of the farce, however, was that of the last day's -proceedings. The quality and quantity of the diet had been discussed; -the directors felt bound to examine into both; so they proceeded to -the house. Of course the master knew nothing of the intended visit. Who -can suspect the possibility of such a thing after the previous display -of Howarth's impartiality and determination to do justice? So to the -house they went. They took the excellent Lee quite by surprise, and -enjoyed parish pot-luck. Dr. Birmingham's description makes one's mouth -water:— - - "He came to the house on Saturday, in order to examine the food; - he found that, on that day, the inmates had what was called - ox-cheek soup; he tasted it, and he was so well satisfied with - it that he took all that was given to him. He then went into the - kitchen, and saw the master cutting up meat for the sick and - infirm. He tasted the mutton, and found it as succulent and as - good as that which he purchased for his own consumption." - -The picture of this patriarchal and benevolent master "cutting up meat -for the sick and infirm," is perfectly beautiful. Howarth, too, did his -duty, and was equally lucky. - - "Mr. Howarth stated that he had visited the house yesterday, and - had examined the food, with the quality of which he was perfectly - satisfied. He tasted the soup, and was so well pleased with it - that he obtained an allowance. (A laugh.)" - -But not satisfied with this, that Rhadamanthus of a Birmingham proposed -a crucial test. - - "He begged to move that the master of the workhouse be desired to - bring before the board the ordinary rations allowed the paupers - for breakfast, dinner, and supper; and that any gentleman present - be allowed to call and examine any of the paupers as to whether - the food they usually received was of the same quality, and in - the same quantity." - -The rations were produced; "and, lo! the porridge smoked upon the -board." Thus it was, in tempting and succulent array—the pauper bill -of fare:— - - Soup. - - Cheese. Pease porridge. Potatoes. - - Meat. Beer. - -Nothing can be more tempting; who would not be a pauper of St. Pancras? -Six paupers are called in, and one and all testify that the rations of -meat, potatoes, soup, and porridge are better in quality and greater -in quantity than the workhouse allowance. There is a slight pause. -Birmingham looks blank at Howarth, and Howarth gazes uneasily on -Birmingham; but it is only for a minute: ready wits jump:— - - "_Dr. Birmingham._ This is the allowance for Sunday. - - "_Mr. Marley._ I understand there is no difference between the - allowance on Sunday and on any other day. - - "_Mr. Howarth._ They have better meat on Sundays." - -What follows this glaring exposure? Impeachment of the master, on this -clear proof of malversation in the house and dishonesty before the -board? So expects Mr. Halton, and very naturally suggests that Mr. -Lee be called on for an explanation. Mr. Lee is not called on, and no -explanation takes place. The room is cleared, and, after an hour and a -half's discussion, a report is unanimously agreed to. Our readers may -anticipate its tenour. It finds that there is no place deserving to -be called the shed; that the rooms so called are very admirable places -of "separation" for refractory paupers; that the diet is excellent; -that every thing is as it ought to be. It recommends that reports of -punishments be more regularly made to the board, that classification of -old and young be improved, and that some little change be made in the -ventilation of the refractory wards! - -And so concludes this sad farce of the St. Pancras investigation. One -more disgraceful to the guardians cannot be found even in the pregnant -annals of workhouse mismanagement.[92] - -"Farming out" paupers, especially children, is one of the most prolific -sources of misery among the English poor who are compelled to appeal -to the parish authorities. This practice consists of entering into -contracts with individuals to supply the paupers with food, clothing, -and lodging. The man who offers to perform the work for the smallest -sum commonly gets the contract, and then the poor wretches who look to -him for the necessaries of life must submit to all kinds of treatment, -and be stinted in every thing. During the last visit of that scourge, -the cholera, to England, a large number of farmed pauper children were -crowded, by one Mr. Drouet, a contractor, into a close and filthy -building, where they nearly all perished. An investigation was -subsequently held, but influential persons screened the authors of this -tragedy from justice. During the investigation, it was clearly shown -that the children confided to the care of Mr. Drouet were kept in a -state of filth and semi-starvation. - -So much for the boasted charity of the dominant class in Great Britain! -By its enormous drain upon the public purse, and its vast monopoly of -that soil which was given for the use of all, it creates millions of -paupers—wretches without homes, without resources, and almost without -hope; and then, to prevent themselves from being hurled from their high -and luxurious places, and from being devoured as by ravenous wolves, -they take the miserable paupers in hand, separate families, shut them -up, as in the worst of prisons, and give them something to keep life in -their bodies. Then the lords and ladies ask the world to admire their -charitable efforts. What they call charity is the offspring of fear! - -A member of the humbler classes in England no sooner begins to exist, -than the probability of his becoming a pauper is contemplated by the -laws. A writer in Chambers's Journal says, in regard to this point— - - "Chargeability is the English slave system. The poor man cannot - go where he lists in search of employment—he may become - chargeable. He cannot take a good place which may be offered to - him, for he cannot get a residence, lest he become chargeable. - Houses are pulled down over the ears of honest working-men, and - decent poor people are driven from Dan to Beersheba, lest they - become chargeable. There is something infinitely distressing in - the whole basis of this idea—that an English peasant must needs - be regarded from his first breath, and all through life, as a - possible pauper. But the positive hardships arising from the idea - are what we have at present to deal with. - - "These are delineated in a happy collection of facts lately - brought forward by Mr. Chadwick at a meeting of the Farmers' - Club in London. It appears that the company assembled, who, from - their circumstances, were all qualified to judge of the truth of - the facts and the soundness of the conclusions, gave a general - assent to what was said by the learned poor-law secretary. - Unfortunately, we can only give a few passages from this very - remarkable speech. - - "Mr. Chadwick first referred to the operation of the existing - law upon _unsettled_ labouring men. 'The lower districts of - Reading were severely visited with fever during the last year, - which called attention to the sanitary condition of the labouring - population. I was requested to visit it. While making inquiries - upon the subject, I learned that some of the worst-conditioned - places were occupied by agricultural labourers. Many of them, it - appeared, walked four, six, seven, and even eight miles, in wet - and snow, to and from their places of work, after twelve hours' - work on the farm. Why, however, were agricultural labourers in - these fever-nests of a town? I was informed, in answer, that they - were driven in there by the pulling down of cottages, to avoid - parochial settlements and contributions to their maintenance in - the event of destitution. Among a group, taken as an example - there, in a wretched place consisting of three rooms, ten feet - long, lived Stephen Turner, a wife, and three children. He - walked to and from his place of work about seven miles daily, - expending two hours and a half in walking before he got to his - productive work on the farm. His wages are 10_s._ a week, out - of which he pays 2_s._ for his wretched tenement. If he were - resident on the farm, the two and a half hours of daily labour - spent in walking might be expended in productive work; his labour - would be worth, according to his own account, and I believe to - a farmer's acknowledgment, 2_s._ 6_d._ per week more. For a - rent of £5 5_s._, such as he now pays, he would be entitled - to a good cottage with a garden; and his wife and children - being near, would be available for the farm labour. So far as - I could learn there are between one hundred and two hundred - agricultural labourers living in the borough of Reading, and the - numbers are increasing. The last week brought to my notice a - fact illustrative of the present unjust state of things, so far - as regards the labourer. A man belonging to Maple-Durham lived - in Reading; walked about four miles a day to his work, the same - back, frequently getting wet; took fever, and continued ill some - time, assisted by the Reading Union in his illness; recovered, - and could have returned to his former employment of 10_s._ per - week, but found he was incapable of walking the distance; the - consequence was, he took work that only enabled him to earn 5_s._ - per week; he is now again unable to work. Even in Lincolnshire, - where the agriculture is of a high order, and the wages of the - labourer consequently not of the lowest, similar displacements - have been made, to the prejudice of the farmer as well as the - labourer, and, as will be seen, of the owner himself. Near - Gainsborough, Lincoln, and Louth, the labourers walk even longer - distances than near Reading. I am informed of instances where - they walk as far as six miles; that is, twelve miles daily, or - seventy-two miles weekly, to and from their places of work. Let - us consider the bare economy, the mere waste of labour, and what - a state of agricultural management is indicated by the fact that - such a waste can have taken place. Fifteen miles a day is the - regular march of infantry soldiers, with two rest-days—one on - Monday, and one on Thursday; twenty-four miles is a forced march. - The man who expends eight miles per diem, or forty-eight miles - per week, expends to the value of at least two days' hard labour - per week, or one hundred in the year, uselessly, that might be - expended usefully and remuneratively in production. How different - is it in manufactories, and in some of the mines, or at least in - the best-managed and most successful of them! In some mines as - much as £2000 and £3000 is paid for new machinery to benefit the - labourers, and save them the labour of ascending and descending - by ladders. In many manufactories they have hoists to raise - them and their loads from lower to upper rooms, to save them the - labour of toiling up stairs, to economize their strength for - piece-work to mutual advantage. It is not in county and borough - towns only that this unwholesome over-crowding is going on. I am - informed that from the like cause the evil of over-crowding is - going on in the ill-conditioned villages of open parishes. It is - admitted, and made manifest in extensive evidence given before a - committee of the house of lords by practical farmers, that when - an agricultural labourer applies for work, the first question - put to him is, not what has been his experience, what can he do, - but to what parish does he belong. If he do not belong to the - parish of the occupier, the reply is usually an expression of - regret that he can only employ the labourer of his own parish. To - the extent to which the farmer is directly liable to the payment - of rates, by the displacement of a settled parish labourer, he - is liable to a penalty for the employment of any other labourer - who is not of the parish. To the same extent is he liable to a - penalty if he do not employ a parish labourer who is worthless, - though a superior labourer may be got by going farther a-field, - to whom he would give better wages. This labourer who would go - farther is thus driven back upon his parish; that is to say, - imposed, and at the same time made dependent, upon the two or - three or several farmers, by whom the parish is occupied. He - then says, 'If this or that farmer will not employ me, one of - them must; if none of them will, the parish must keep me, and - the parish pay is as good as any.' Labour well or ill, he will - commonly get little more, and it is a matter of indifference to - him: it is found to be, in all its essential conditions, labour - without hope—slave labour; and he is rendered unworthy of his - hire. On the other hand, in what condition does the law place - the employer? It imposes upon him the whole mass of labourers of - a narrow district, of whatsoever sort, without reference to his - wants or his capital. He says, 'I do not want the men at this - time, or these men are not suitable to me; they will not do the - work I want; but if I must have them, or pay for keeping them in - idleness if I do not employ them, why, then, I can only give them - such wages as their labour is worth to me, and that is little.' - Hence wages are inevitably reduced. What must be the effect upon - the manufacturer if he were placed in the same position as tenant - farmers are in the smaller parishes in the southern counties, - if he were restricted to the employment only of the labourers - in the parish?—if, before he engaged a smith, a carpenter, or - a mason, he were compelled to inquire, 'To what parish do you - belong?' Why, that the 24_s._ a week labour would fall to 12_s._ - or 10_s._, or the price of agricultural labour. Agriculturists - from northern districts, who work their farms with 12_s._ and - 15_s._ a week free labour, have declined the temptation of low - rents, to take farms in parishes where the wages are 7_s._ or - 8_s._ a week. While inspecting a farm in one of these pauperized - districts, an able agriculturist could not help noticing the - slow, drawling motions of one of the labourers there, and said, - 'My man, you do not sweat at that work,' 'Why, no, master,' was - the reply; 'seven shillings a week isn't sweating wages,' The - evidence I have cited indicates the circumstances which prevent - the adoption of piece-work, and which, moreover, restrict the - introduction of machinery into agricultural operations, which, - strange though it may appear to many, is greatly to the injury of - the working classes; for wherever agricultural labour is free, - and machinery has been introduced, there more and higher-paid - labour is required, and labourers are enabled to go on and earn - good wages by work with machines long after their strength has - failed them for working by hand. In free districts, and with high - cultivation by free and skilled labour, I can adduce instances - of skilled agricultural labourers paid as highly as artisans. I - could adduce an instance, bordering upon Essex, where the owner, - working it with common parish labour at 1_s._ 6_d._, a day, - could not make it pay; and an able farmer now works it with free - labour, at 2_s._ 6_d._, 3_s._, and 3_s._ 6_d._, and even more, - per day, for task-work, and, there is reason to believe, makes it - pay well. A farmer, who died not long ago immensely wealthy, was - wont to say that 'he could not live upon poor 2_s._ a day labour; - he could not make his money upon less than half-crowners.' The - freedom of labour, not only in the northern counties, but in - some places near the slave-labour districts of the southern - counties, is already attended with higher wages—at the rate - of 12_s._, 14_s._, and 15_s._ weekly. In such counties as Berks - and Bedford, the freedom of the labour market, when it came into - full operation, could not raise wages less than 2_s._ a week; - and 2_s._ a week would, in those counties, represent a sum of - productive expenditure and increased produce equal to the whole - amount of unproductive expenditure on the poor-rates.'" - -By this arrangement of parochial settlement, the English agricultural -labourer has a compulsory residence, like that of the American slave -upon the plantation where he is born. This, therefore, is one of the -most striking manifestations of the peasant being a serf. A free and -beautiful system is that of the English Unions! - - - - -CHAPTER VI. - -IMPRESSMENT, OR KIDNAPPING WHITE MEN FOR SLAVES IN THE NAVAL SERVICE. - - -One of the most repulsive features of the general system of slavery in -Great Britain, is called impressment. It is the forcible removal of -seamen from their ordinary employment, and compelling them to serve, -against their will, in the ships of war. Long ago, some of the maritime -nations condemned men to the galleys for crime. But Great Britain dooms -peaceable and unoffending men to her vessels of war, severs all the -ties of home and kindred, and outrages every principle of justice, -in this practice of impressment. The husband is torn from his wife, -the father from his children, the brother from the sister, by the -press-gangs—the slave-hunters of Britain. - -[Illustration: KIDNAPPING OF WILLIE MORRISON.] - -This practice is not expressly sanctioned by any act of Parliament, but -it is so, indirectly, by the numerous statutes that have been passed -granting exemptions from it. According to Lord Mansfield, it is "a -power founded upon immemorial usage," and is understood to make a part -of the common law. All _seafaring_ men are liable to impressment, -unless specially protected by custom or statute. Seamen executing -particular services for government, not unfrequently get protections -from the Admiralty, Navy Board, &c. Some are exempted by local custom; -and _ferrymen_ are everywhere privileged from impressment. The -statutory exemptions are as follows:— - - I. _Every ship in the coal-trade_ has the following persons - protected, viz. two able seamen (such as the master shall - nominate) for every ship of one hundred tons, and one for every - fifty tons for every ship of one hundred tons and upward; and - every officer who presumes to impress any of the above, shall - forfeit, to the master or owner of such vessel, £10 for every man - so impressed; and such officers shall be incapable of holding any - place, office, or employment in any of his majesty's ships of - war.—6 and 7 Will. 3, c. 18, § 19.[93] - - II. _No parish apprentice_ shall be compelled or permitted to - enter into his majesty's sea-service, until he arrives at the age - of eighteen years.—2 and 3 Anne, c. 6, § 4. - - III. Persons voluntarily binding themselves apprentices to - sea-service, shall not be impressed for three years from the date - of their indentures. [This is a protection for the master—not - for the parish apprentice.] But no persons above eighteen - years of age shall have any exemption or protection from his - majesty's service, if they have been at sea before they became - apprentices.—2 and 3 Anne, c. 6, § 15; 4 Anne, c. 19, § 17; and - 13 Geo. 2, c. 17, § 2. - - IV. _Apprentices._—The act 4 Geo. 4, c. 25, enacts some new - regulations with respect to the number of apprentices that ships - must have on board, according to their tonnage, and grants - protection to such apprentices till they have attained the age of - twenty-one years. - - V. _Persons employed in the fisheries._—The act 50 Geo. 3, c. - 108, grants the following exemptions from impressment, viz.: - - 1. _Masters of fishing vessels or boats_, who, either themselves - or their owners, have, or within six months before applying for a - protection shall have had, one apprentice or more, under sixteen - years of age, bound for five years, and employed in the business - of fishing. - - 2. All such apprentices, not exceeding _eight_ to every master - or owner of any fishing vessel of fifty tons or upward; not - exceeding _seven_ to every vessel or boat of thirty-five - tons, and under fifty; not exceeding _six_ to every vessel of - thirty tons, or under thirty-five; and not exceeding _four_ - to every boat under thirty tons burden, during the time of - their apprenticeship, and till the age of twenty years; they - continuing, for the time, in the business of fishing only. - - 3. _One mariner_, besides the master and apprentices, to every - fishing vessel of one hundred tons or upward, employed on the - sea-coast, during his continuance in such service. - - 4. _Any landsman_, above the age of eighteen, entering and - employed on board such vessel for two years from his first going - to sea and to the end of the voyage then engaged in, if he so - long continue in such service. [The ignorance of a landsman seems - to be the only reason for this exemption.] - - An affidavit sworn before a justice of the peace, containing - the tonnage of such fishing vessel or boat, the port or place - to which she belongs, the name and description of the master, - the age of every apprentice, the term for which he is bound and - the date of his indenture, and the name, age, and description of - every such mariner and landsman respectively, and the time of - such landsman's first going to sea, is to be transmitted to the - Admiralty; who, upon finding the facts correctly stated, grant - a separate protection to every individual. In case, however, - "_of an actual invasion of these kingdoms, or imminent danger - thereof_," such protected persons may be impressed; but except - upon such an emergency, any officer or officers impressing - such protected person, shall respectively forfeit £20 to the - party impressed, if not an apprentice, or to his master if he - be an apprentice.—§§ 2, 3, 4 [The phrase, "imminent danger - of invasion," is susceptible of a wide interpretation for the - purposes of tyranny.] - - VI. _General exemptions._—All persons fifty-five years of age - and upward, and under eighteen years. Every person being a - foreigner, who shall serve in any merchant ship, or other trading - vessels or privateers, belonging to a subject of the crown of - Great Britain; and all persons, of what age soever, who shall - use the sea, shall be protected for two years, to be computed - from the time of their first using it.—13 Geo. 2, c. 17. [The - impressment of American seamen, before the war of 1812, shows how - easily these exemptions may be disregarded.] - - VII. _Harpooners_, line-managers, or boat-steerers, engaged in - the Southern whale fishery, are also protected.—26 Geo. 3, c. 50. - - VIII. _Mariners employed in the herring fisheries_ are exempted - while actually employed.—48 Geo. 3, c. 110. - - "The practice of impressment," says McCulloch, "so subversive of - every principle of justice, is vindicated on the alleged ground - of its being absolutely necessary to the manning of the fleet. - But this position, notwithstanding the confidence with which it - has been taken up, is not quite so tenable as has been supposed. - The difficulties experienced in procuring sailors for the fleet - at the breaking out of a war are not natural, but artificial, - and might be got rid of by a very simple arrangement. During - peace, not more than a fourth or fifth part of the seamen are - retained in his majesty's service that are commonly required - during war; and, if peace continue for a few years, the total - number of sailors in the king's and the merchant service is - limited to that which is merely adequate to supply the reduced - demand of the former and the ordinary demand of the latter. When, - therefore, war is declared, and 30,000 or 40,000 additional - seamen are wanted for the fleet, they cannot be obtained, unless - by withdrawing them from the merchant service, which has not - more than its complement of hands. But to do this by offering - the seamen higher wages would be next to impossible, and would, - supposing it were practicable, impose such a sacrifice upon the - public as could hardly be borne. And hence, it is said, the - necessity of impressment, a practice which every one admits can - be justified on no other ground than that of its being absolutely - essential to the public safety. It is plain, however, that a - necessity of this kind may be easily obviated. All, in fact, that - is necessary for this purpose, is merely to keep such a number of - sailors in his majesty's service during peace, as may suffice, - with the ordinary proportion of landsmen and boys, to man the - fleet at the breaking out of a war. Were this done, there would - not be the shadow of a pretence for resorting to impressment; and - the practice, with the cruelty and injustice inseparable from it, - might be entirely abolished. - - "But it is said that, though desirable in many respects, the - _expense_ of such a plan will always prevent its being adopted. - It admits, however, of demonstration, that instead of being - dearer, this plan would be actually cheaper than that which is - now followed. Not more than 1,000,000_l._ or 1,200,000_l._ a year - would be required to be added to the navy estimates, and that - would not be a real, but merely a nominal advance. The violence - and injustice to which the practice of impressment exposes - sailors operates at all times to raise their wages, by creating - a disinclination on the part of many young men to enter the - sea-service; and this disinclination is vastly increased during - war, when wages usually rise to four or five times their previous - amount, imposing a burden on the commerce of the country, - exclusive of other equally mischievous consequences, many times - greater than the tax that would be required to keep up the peace - establishment of the navy to its proper level. It is really, - therefore, a vulgar error to suppose that impressment has the - recommendation of cheapness in its favour; and, though it had, - no reasonable man will contend that that is the only, or even - the principal, circumstance to be attended to. In point of fact, - however, it is as costly as it is oppressive and unjust." - -These remarks are creditable to the good sense and humanity of -McCulloch; but are too much devoted to the _expediency_ of outrage. To -speak more clearly, the discussion is conducted in too cool-blooded a -style. We defy any man of ordinary sensibility to read the accounts of -scenes attending many cases of impressment, without feeling the deepest -pity for the enslaved seaman and his bereaved relatives and friends, -and burning with indignation at the heartless tyranny displayed by the -government. After a long and laborious voyage in a merchant vessel, the -sun-burned seamen arrives in sight of home. His wife and children, who -have long bewailed his absence and feared for his fate, stand, with -joyous countenances, upon the shore, eager to embrace the returned -wanderer. Perhaps a government vessel, on the search for seaman, then -sends its barbarous press-gang aboard the merchantman, and forces the -husband and father once more from the presence of the beloved ones. Or, -he is permitted to land. He visits his home, and is just comfortably -settled, resolved to pass the rest of his days with his family, when -the gang tears him from their arms—and years—long, dragging years -will pass away before he will be allowed to return. Then, the wife -may be dead, the children at the mercy of the parish. This is English -freedom! A gang of manacled negroes shocks humanity, and calls down the -vengeance of heaven upon the head of the slave-driver; but a press-gang -may perform its heart-rending work in perfect consistency with the -free and glorious institutions of Britain. - -By far the most thrilling narrative of the scenes attending -impressments, with which we are acquainted, is to be found in the -romance of "Katie Stewart," published in Blackwood's Magazine, without -the author's name. We quote:— - - "The next day was the Sabbath, and Willie Morison, with his - old mother leaning on his arm, reverently deposited his silver - half-crown in the plate at the door of West Anster Church, an - offering of thankfulness, for the parish poor. There had been - various returns during the previous week; a brig from the Levant, - and another from Riga—where, with its cargo of hemp, it had been - frozen in all the winter—had brought home each their proportion - of welcome family fathers, and young sailor men, like Willie - Morison himself, to glad the eyes of friends and kindred. One of - these was the son of that venerable elder in the lateran, who - rose to read the little notes which the thanksgivers had handed - to him at the door; and Katie Stewart's eyes filled as the old - man's slow voice, somewhat moved by reading his son's name just - before, intimated to the waiting congregation before him, and to - the minister in the pulpit behind, also waiting to include all - these in his concluding prayer, that William Morison gave thanks - for his safe return. - - "And then there came friendly greetings as the congregation - streamed out through the churchyard, and the soft, hopeful - sunshine of spring threw down a bright flickering network of - light and shade through the soft foliage on the causewayed - street;—peaceful people going to secure and quiet - homes—families joyfully encircling the fathers or brothers for - whose return they had just rendered thanks out of full hearts, - and peace upon all and over all, as broad as the skies and as - calm. - - "But as the stream of people pours again in the afternoon from - the two neighbour churches, what is this gradual excitement - which manifests itself among them? Hark! there is the boom of - a gun plunging into all the echoes; and crowds of mothers and - sisters cling about these young sailors, and almost struggle - with them, to hurry them home. Who is that hastening to the - pier, with his staff clenched in his hand, and his white 'haffit - locks' streaming behind him? It is the reverend elder who to-day - returned thanks for his restored son. The sight of him—the sound - of that second-gun pealing from the Firth puts the climax on the - excitement of the people, and now, in a continuous stream from - the peaceful churchyard gates, they flow toward the pier and the - sea. - - "Eagerly running along by the edge of the rocks, at a pace which, - on another Sabbath, she would have thought a desecration of - the day, clinging to Willie Morison's arm, and with an anxious - heart, feeling her presence a kind of protection to him, Katie - Stewart hastens to the Billy Ness. The gray pier of Anster is - lined with anxious faces, and here and there a levelled telescope - under the care of some old shipmaster attracts round it a still - deeper, still more eager knot of spectators. The tide is out, - and venturous lads are stealing along the sharp low ranges of - rock, slipping now and then with incautious steps into the little - clear pools of sea-water which surround them; for their eyes are - not on their own uncertain footing, but fixed, like the rest, on - that visible danger up the Firth, in which all feel themselves - concerned. - - "Already there are spectators, and another telescope on the Billy - Ness, and the whole range of 'the braes' between Anstruther and - Pittenweem is dotted with anxious lookers-on; and the far away - pier of Pittenweem, too, is dark with its little crowd. - - "What is the cause! Not far from the shore, just where that - headland, which hides you from the deep indentation of Largo Bay, - juts out upon the Firth, lies a little vessel, looking like a - diminutive Arabian horse, or one of the aristocratic young slight - lads who are its officers, with high blood, training, and courage - in every tight line of its cordage and taper stretch of its - masts. Before it, arrested in its way, lies a helpless merchant - brig, softly swaying on the bright mid-waters of the Firth, with - the cutter's boat rapidly approaching its side. - - "Another moment and it is boarded; a very short interval of - silence, and again the officer—you can distinguish him with that - telescope, by his cocked hat, and the flash which the scabbard - of his sword throws on the water as he descends the vessel's - side—has re-entered the cutter's boat. Heavily the boat moves - through the water now, crowded with pressed men—poor writhing - hearts, whose hopes of home-coming and peace have been blighted - in a moment; captured, some of them, in sight of their homes, and - under the anxious, straining eyes of wives and children, happily - too far off to discern their full calamity. - - "A low moan comes from the lips of that poor woman, who, wringing - her hands and rocking herself to and fro, with the unconscious - movement of extreme pain, looks pitifully in Willie Morison's - face, as he fixes the telescope on the scene. She is reading the - changes of its expression, as if her sentence was there; but he - says nothing, though the very motion of his hand, as he steadies - the glass, attracts, like something of occult significance, the - agonized gaze which dwells upon him. - - "'Captain, captain!' she cried at last, softly pulling his coat, - and with unconscious art using the new title: 'Captain, is't the - Traveller? Can ye make her out? She has a white figure-head at - her bows, and twa white lines round her side. Captain, captain! - tell me for pity's sake!' - - "Another long keen look was bent on the brig, as slowly and - disconsolately she resumed her onward way. - - "'No, Peggie,' said the young sailor, looking round to meet her - eye, and to comfort his companion, who stood trembling by his - side: 'No, Peggie—make yourself easy; it's no the Traveller.' - - "The poor woman seated herself on the grass, and, supporting her - head on her hands, wiped from her pale cheek tears of relief and - thankfulness. - - "'God be thanked! and oh! God pity thae puir creatures, and their - wives, and their little anes. I think I have the hardest heart in - a' the world, that can be glad when there's such misery in sight.' - - "But dry your tears, poor Peggie Rodger—brace up your trembling - heart again for another fiery trial; for here comes another white - sail peacefully gliding up the Firth, with a flag fluttering - from the stern, and a white figure-head dashing aside the - spray, which seems to embrace it joyfully, the sailors think, - as out of the stormy seas it nears the welcome home. With a - light step the captain walks the little quarter-deck—with - light hearts the seamen lounge amidship, looking forth on the - green hills of Fife. Dark grows the young sailor's face, as he - watches the unsuspicious victim glide triumphantly up through - the blue water into the undreaded snare; and a glance round, - a slight contraction of those lines in his face which Katie - Stewart, eagerly watching him, has never seen so strongly marked - before, tells the poor wife on the grass enough to make her - rise hysterically strong, and with her whole might gaze at the - advancing ship; for, alas! one can doubt its identity no longer. - The white lines on its side—the white figure-head among the - joyous spray—and the Traveller dashes on, out of its icy prison - in the northern harbour—out of its stormy ocean voyage—homeward - bound! - - "Homeward bound! There is one yonder turning longing looks to - Anster's quiet harbour as the ship sails past; carefully putting - up in the coloured foreign baskets those little wooden toys which - amused his leisure during the long dark winter among the ice, and - thinking with involuntary smiles how his little ones will leap - for joy as he divides the store. Put them up, good seaman, gentle - father!—the little ones will be men and women before you look on - them again. - - "For already the echoes are startled, and the women here on - shore shiver and wring their hands as the cutter's gun rings out - its mandate to the passenger; and looking up the Firth you see - nothing but a floating globe of white smoke, slowly breaking - into long streamers, and almost entirely concealing the fine - outline of the little ship of war. The challenged brig at first - is doubtful—the alarmed captain does not understand the summons; - but again another flash, another report, another cloud of white - smoke, and the Traveller is brought to. - - "There are no tears on Peggie Rodger's haggard cheeks, but a - convulsive shudder passes over her now and then, as, with intense - strained eyes, she watches the cutter's boat as it crosses the - Firth toward the arrested brig. - - "'God! an' it were sunk like lead!' said a passionate voice - beside her, trembling with the desperate restraint of impotent - strength. - - "'God help us!—God help us!—curse na them,' said the poor woman - with an hysteric sob. 'Oh, captain, captain! gie _me_ the glass; - if they pit him in the boat _I'll_ ken Davie—if naebody else - would, I can—gie me the glass.' - - "He gave her the glass, and himself gladly turned away, trembling - with the same suppressed rage and indignation which had dictated - the other spectator's curse. - - "'If ane could but warn them wi' a word,' groaned Willie Morison, - grinding his teeth—'if ane could but lift a finger! but to see - them gang into the snare like innocents in the broad day—Katie, - it's enough to pit a man mad!' - - "But Katie's pitiful compassionate eyes were fixed on Peggie - Rodger—on her white hollow cheeks, and on the convulsive - steadiness with which she held the telescope in her hand. - - "'It's a fair wind into the Firth—there's another brig due. - Katie, I canna stand and see this mair!' - - "He drew her hand through his arm, and unconsciously grasping - it with a force which at another time would have made her cry - with pain, led her a little way back toward the town. But the - fascination of the scene was too great for him, painful as it - was, and far away on the horizon glimmered another sail. - - "'Willie!' exclaimed Katie Stewart, 'gar some of the Sillardyke - men gang out wi' a boat—gar them row down by the coast, and then - strike out in the Firth, and warn the men.' - - "He grasped her hand again, not so violently. 'Bless you, lassie! - and wha should do your bidding but myself? but take care of - yourself, Katie Stewart. What care I for a' the brigs in the - world if any thing ails you? Gang hame, or'— - - "'I'll no stir a fit till you're safe back again. I'll never - speak to you mair if ye say anither word. Be canny—be canny—but - haste ye away.' - - "Another moment, and Katie Stewart stands alone by Peggie - Rodger's side, watching the eager face which seems to grow old - and emaciated with this terrible vigil, as if these moments were - years; while the ground flies under the hounding feet of Willie - Morison, and he answers the questions which are addressed to him, - as to his errand, only while he himself continues at full speed - to push eastward to Cellardyke. - - "And the indistinct words which he calls back to his comrades, - as he 'devours the way,' are enough to send racing after him - an eager train of coadjutors; and with his bonnet off, and - his hands, which tremble as with palsy, clasped convulsively - together, the white-haired elder leans upon the wall of the pier, - and bids God bless them, God speed them, with a broken voice, - whose utterance comes in gasps and sobs; for he has yet another - son upon the sea. - - "Meanwhile the cutter's boat has returned from the Traveller with - its second load; and a kind bystander relieves the aching arms - of poor Peggie Rodger of the telescope, in which now she has no - further interest. - - "'Gude kens, Gude kens,' said the poor woman slowly, as Katie - strove to comfort her. 'I didna see him in the boat; but ane - could see nothing but the wet oars flashing out of the water, and - blinding folks e'en. What am I to do? Miss Katie, what am I to - think? They maun have left some men in the ship to work her. Oh! - God grant they have ta'en the young men, and no heads of families - wi' bairns to toil for. But Davie's a buirdly man, just like - ane to take an officer's ee. Oh, the Lord help us! for I'm just - distraught, and kenna what to do.' - - "A faint cheer, instantly suppressed, rises from the point of - the pier and the shelving coast beyond; and yonder now it glides - along the shore, with wet oars gleaming out of the dazzling sunny - water, the boat of the forlorn hope. A small, picked, chosen - company bend to the oars, and Willie Morison is at the helm, - warily guiding the little vessel over the rocks, as they shelter - themselves in the shadow of the coast. On the horizon the coming - sail flutters nearer, nearer—and up the Firth yonder there is a - stir in the cutter as she prepares to leave her anchor and strike - into the mid-waters of the broad highway which she molests. - - "The sun is sinking lower in the grand western skies, and - beginning to cast long, cool, dewy shadows of every headland and - little promontory over the whole rocky coast; but still the Firth - is burning with his slanting fervid rays, and Inchkeith far away - lies like a cloud upon the sea, and the May, near at hand, lifts - its white front to the sun—a Sabbath night as calm and full of - rest as ever natural Sabbath was—and the reverend elder yonder - on the pier uncovers his white head once more, and groans within - himself, amid his passionate prayers for these perilled men upon - the sea, over the desecrated Sabbath-day. - - "Nearer and nearer wears the sail, fluttering like the snowy - breast of some sea-bird in prophetic terror; and now far off - the red fishing-boat strikes boldly forth into the Firth with a - signal-flag at its prow. - - "In the cutter they perceive it now; and see how the anchor - swings up her shapely side, and the snowy sail curls over the - yards, as with a bound she darts forth from her lurking-place, - and flashing in the sunshine, like an eager hound leaps forth - after her prey. - - "The boat—the boat! With every gleam of its oars the hearts - throb that watch it on its way; with every bound it makes - there are prayers—prayers of the anguish which will take no - discouragement—pressing in at the gates of heaven; and the - ebbing tide bears it out, and the wind droops its wings, and - falls becalmed upon the coast, as if repenting it of the evil - service it did to those two hapless vessels which have fallen - into the snare. Bravely on as the sun grows lower—bravely out as - the fluttering stranger sail draws nearer and more near—and but - one other strain will bring them within hail. - - "But as all eyes follow these adventurers, another flash from - the cutter's side glares over the shining water; and as the - smoke rolls over the pursuing vessel, and the loud report again - disturbs all the hills, Katie's heart grows sick, and she - scarcely dares look to the east. But the ball has ploughed the - water harmlessly, and yonder is the boat of rescue—yonder is - the ship within hail; and some one stands up in the prow of the - forlorn hope, and shouts and waves his hand. - - "It is enough. 'There she goes—there she tacks!' cries exulting - the man with the telescope, 'and in half an hour she'll be safe - in St. Andrew's Bay.' - - "But she sails slowly back—and slowly sails the impatient - cutter, with little wind to swell her sails, and that little in - her face; while the fisherboat, again falling close inshore with - a relay of fresh men at the oars, has the advantage of them both. - - "And now there is a hot pursuit—the cutter's boat in full chase - after the forlorn hope; but as the sun disappears, and the long - shadows lengthen and creep along the creeks and bays of the rocky - coast so well known to the pursued, so ill to the pursuer, the - event of the race is soon decided; and clambering up the first - accessible landing-place they can gain, and leaving their boat on - the rocks behind them, the forlorn hope joyously make their way - home. - - "'And it's a' Katie's notion and no a morsel of mine,' says - the proud Willie Morison. But alas for your stout heart, - Willie!—alas for the tremulous, startled bird which beats - against the innocent breast of little Katie Stewart, for no - one knows what heavy shadows shall vail the ending of this - Sabbath-day. - - * * * * * - - "The mild spring night has darkened, but it is still early, and - the moon is not yet up. The worship is over in John Stewart's - decent house, and all is still within, though the miller and - his wife still sit by the 'gathered' fire, and talk in half - whispers about the events of the day, and the prospects of 'the - bairns.' It is scarcely nine yet, but it is the reverent usage - of the family to shut out the world earlier than usual on the - Sabbath; and Katie, in consideration of her fatigue, has been - dismissed to her little chamber in the roof. She has gone away - not unwillingly, for, just before, the miller had closed the door - on the slow, reluctant, departing steps of Willie Morison, and - Katie is fain to be alone. - - "Very small is this chamber in the roof of the Milton, which - Janet and Katie used to share. She has set down her candle on the - little table before that small glass in the dark carved frame, - and herself stands by the window, which she has opened, looking - out. The rush of the burn fills the soft air with sound, into - which sometimes penetrates a far-off voice, which proclaims the - little town still awake and stirring: but save the light from - Robert Moulter's uncurtained window—revealing a dark gleaming - link of the burn, before the cot-house door—and the reddened - sky yonder, reflecting that fierce torch on the May, there is - nothing visible but the dark line of fields, and a few faint - stars in the clouded sky. - - "But the houses in Anster are not yet closed or silent. In - the street which leads past the town-house and church of West - Anster to the shore, you can see a ruddy light streaming out - from the window upon the causeway, the dark churchyard wall, and - over-hanging trees. At the fire stands a comely young woman, - lifting 'a kettle of potatoes' from the crook. The 'kettle' is - a capacious pot on three feet, formed not like the ordinary - 'kail-pat,' but like a little tub of iron; and now, as it is - set down before the ruddy fire, you see it is full of laughing - potatoes, disclosing themselves, snow-white and mealy, through - the cracks in their clear dark coats. The mother of the household - sits by the fireside, with a volume of sermons in her hand; but - she is paying but little attention to the book, for the kitchen - is full of young sailors, eagerly discussing the events of the - day, and through the hospitable open door others are entering - and departing with friendly salutations. Another such animated - company fills the house of the widow Morison, 'aest the town,' - for still the afternoon's excitement has not subsided. - - "But up this dark leaf-shadowed street, in which we stand, there - comes a muffled tramp as of stealthy footsteps. They hear nothing - of it in that bright warm kitchen—fear nothing, as they gather - round the fire, and sometimes rise so loud in their conversation - that the house-mother lifts her hand, and shakes her head, with - an admonitory, 'Whist bairns; mind, it's the Sabbath-day.' - - "Behind backs, leaning against the sparkling panes of the window, - young Robert Davidson speaks aside to Lizzie Tosh, the daughter - of the house. They were 'cried' to-day in West Anster kirk, and - soon will have a blithe bridal—'If naething comes in the way,' - says Lizzie, with her downcast face; and the manly young sailor - answers—'Nae fear.' - - "'Nae fear!' But without, the stealthy steps come nearer; and if - you draw far enough away from the open door to lose the merry - voices, and have your eyes no longer dazzled with the light, you - will see dim figures creeping through the darkness, and feel that - the air is heavy with the breath of men. But few people care to - use that dark road between the manse and the churchyard at night, - so no one challenges the advancing party, or gives the alarm. - - "Lizzie Tosh has stolen to the door; it is to see if the moon - is up, and if Robert will have light on his homeward walk to - Pittenweem; but immediately she rushes in again, with a face as - pale as it had before been blooming, and alarms the assembly. 'A - band of the cutter's men;—an officer, with a sword at his side. - Rin, lads, rin, afore they reach the door.' - - "But there is a keen, eager face, with a cocked hat surmounting - it, already looking in at the window. The assembled sailors make - a wild plunge at the door; and, while a few escape under cover of - the darkness, the cutter's men have secured, after a desperate - resistance, three or four of the foremost. Poor fellows! You - see them stand without, young Robert Davidson in the front, his - broad, bronzed forehead bleeding from a cut he has received in - the scuffle, and one of his captors, still more visibly wounded, - looking on him with evil, revengeful eyes: his own eye, poor lad, - is flaming with fierce indignation and rage, and his broad breast - heaves almost convulsively. But now he catches a glimpse of the - weeping Lizzie, and fiery tears, which scorch his eyelids, blind - him for a moment, and his heart swells as if it would burst. But - it does not burst, poor desperate heart! until the appointed - bullet shall come, a year or two hence, to make its pulses quiet - for ever. - - "A few of the gang entered the house. It is only 'a but and a - ben;' and Lizzie stands with her back against the door of the - inner apartment, while her streaming eyes now and then cast a - sick, yearning glance toward the prisoners at the door—for her - brother stands there as well as her betrothed. - - "'What for would you seek in there?' asked the mother, lifting up - her trembling hands. 'What would ye despoil my chaumer for, after - ye've made my hearthstane desolate. If ye've a license to steal - men, ye've nane to steal gear. Ye've dune your warst: gang out o' - my house ye thieves, ye locusts, ye'— - - "'We'll see about that, old lady,' said the leader:—'put the - girl away from that door. Tom, bring the lantern.' - - "The little humble room was neatly arranged. It was their best, - and they had not spared upon it what ornament they could attain. - Shells far travelled, precious for the giver's sake, and many - other heterogeneous trifles, such as sailors pick up in foreign - parts, were arranged upon the little mantel-piece and grate. - There was no nook or corner in it which could possibly be used - for a hiding-place; but the experienced eye of the foremost - man saw the homely counterpane disordered on the bed; and - there indeed the mother had hid her youngest, dearest son. She - had scarcely a minute's time to drag him in, to prevail upon - him to let her conceal him under her feather-bed, and all its - comfortable coverings. But the mother's pains were unavailing, - and now she stood by, and looked on with a suppressed scream, - while that heavy blow struck down her boy as he struggled—her - youngest, fair-haired, hopeful boy. - - "Calm thoughts are in your heart, Katie Stewart—dreams of - sailing over silver seas under that moon which begins to rise, - slowly climbing through the clouds yonder, on the south side of - the Firth. In fancy, already, you watch the soft Mediterranean - waves rippling past the side of the Flower of Fife, and see - the strange beautiful countries of which your bridegroom has - told you shining under the brilliant southern sun. And then the - home-coming—the curious toys you will gather yonder for the - sisters and the mother; the pride you will have in telling them - how Willie has cared for your voyage—how wisely he rules the one - Flower of Fife, how tenderly he guards the other. - - "Your heart is touched, Katie Stewart, touched with the calm - and pathos of great joy; and tears lie under your eyelashes, - like the dew on flowers. Clasp your white hands on the sill of - the window—heed not that your knees are unbended—and say your - child's prayers with lips which move but utter nothing audible, - and with your head bowed on the moonbeam, which steals into your - window like a bird. True, you have said these child's prayers - many a night, as in some sort a charm, to guard you as you slept; - but now there comes upon your spirit an awe of the great Father - yonder, a dim and wonderful apprehension of the mysterious Son - in whose name you make those prayers. Is it true, then, that he - thinks of all our loves and sorrows, this One, whose visible - form realizes to us the dim, grand, glorious heaven—knows us by - name—remembers us with the God's love in his wonderful human - heart;—_us_, scattered by myriads over his earth, like the motes - in the sunbeam? And the tears steal over your cheeks, as you end - the child's prayer with the name that is above all names. - - "Now, will you rest? But the moon has mastered all her hilly way - of clouds, and from the full sky looks down on you, Katie, with - eyes of pensive blessedness like your own. Tarry a little—linger - to watch that one bright spot on the Firth, where you could - almost count the silvered waves as they lie beneath the light. - - "But a rude sound breaks upon the stillness—a sound of - flying feet echoing over the quiet road; and now they become - visible—one figure in advance, and a band of pursuers - behind—the same brave heart which spent its strength to-day - to warn the unconscious ship—the same strong form which Katie - has seen in her dreams on the quarter-deck of the Flower of - Fife;—but he will never reach that quarter-deck, Katie Stewart, - for his strength flags, and they gain upon him. - - "Gain upon him, step by step, unpitying bloodhounds!—see him - lift up his hands to you, at your window, and have no ruth - for his young hope, or yours;—and now their hands are on his - shoulder, and he is in their power. - - "'Katie!' cries the hoarse voice of Willie Morison, breaking the - strange fascination in which she stood, 'come down and speak - to me ae word, if ye wouldna break my heart. Man—if ye are a - man—let me bide a minute; let me say a word to her. I'll maybe - never see her in this world again.' - - "The miller stood at the open door—the mother within was wiping - the tears from her cheeks. 'Oh Katie, bairn, that ye had been - sleeping!' But Katie rushed past them, and crossed the burn. - - "What can they say?—only convulsively grasp each other's - hands—wofully look into each other's faces, ghastly in the - moonlight; till Willie—Willie, who could have carried her like - a child, in his strength of manhood—bowed down his head into - those little hands of hers which are lost in his own vehement - grasp, and hides with them his passionate tears. - - "'Willie, I'll never forget ye,' says aloud the instinctive - impulse of little Katie's heart, forgetting for the moment that - there is any grief in the world but to see his. 'Night and day - I'll mind ye, think of ye. If ye were twenty years away, I would - be blither to wait for ye, than to be a queen. Willie, if ye must - go, go with a stout heart—for I'll never forget ye, if it should - be twenty years!' - - "Twenty years! Only eighteen have you been in the world yet, - brave little Katie Stewart; and you know not the years, how they - drag their drooping skirts over the hills when hearts long for - their ending, or how it is only day by day, hour by hour, that - they wear out at length, and fade into the past. - - "'Now, my man, let's have no more of this,' said the leader of - the gang. 'I'm not here to wait your leisure; come on.' - - "And now they are away—truly away—and the darkness settles down - where this moment Katie saw her bridegroom's head bowing over the - hands which still are wet with his tears. Twenty years! Her own - words ring into her heart like a knell, a prophecy of evil—if he - should be twenty years away!" - -There is no exaggeration in the above narrative. Similar scenes have -occurred on many occasions, and others of equally affecting character -might be gathered from British sailors themselves. In the story of -"Katie Stewart," ten years elapse before Willie Morison is permitted to -return to his betrothed. In many cases the pressed seamen never catch -a glimpse of home or friends again. Sometimes decoys and stratagems -are used to press the seamen into the service of the government. Such -extensive powers are intrusted to the officers of men-of-war, that -they may be guilty of the grossest violations of right and justice with -impunity, and even those "protections" which the government extends to -certain persons, are frequently of no effect whatever. In the novel of -"Jacob Faithful," Captain Marryatt has given a fine illustration of -the practice of some officers. The impressment of Jacob and Thomas the -waterman, is told with Marryatt's usual spirit. Here it is:— - - "'I say, you watermen, have you a mind for a good fare?' cried - a dark-looking, not over clean, square built, short young man - standing on the top of the flight of steps. - - "'Where to, sir?' - - "'Gravesend, my jokers, if you a'n't afraid of salt water.' - - "'That's a long way, sir!' replied Tom, 'and for salt water we - must have salt to our porridge.' - - "'So you shall, my lads, and a glass of grog into the bargain.' - - "'Yes, but the bargain a'n't made yet, sir. Jacob, will you go?' - - "'Yes, but not under a guinea.' - - "'Not under two guineas,' replied Tom, aside. - - "'Are you in a great hurry, sir?' continued he, addressing the - young man. - - "'Yes, in a devil of a hurry; I shall lose my ship. What will you - take me for?' - - "'Two guineas, sir.' - - "'Very well. Just come up to the public-house here, and put in my - traps.' - - "We had brought down his luggage, put it into the wherry - and started down the river with the tide. Our fare was very - communicative, and we found out that he was master's mate of - the Immortalité, forty-gun frigate, lying off Gravesend, which - was to drop down the next morning, and wait for sailing orders - at the Downs. We carried the tide with us, and in the afternoon - were close to the frigate, whose blue ensign waved proudly over - the taffrail. There was a considerable sea arising from the wind - meeting the tide, and before we arrived close to her, we had - shipped a great deal of water; and when we were alongside, the - wherry, with the chest in her bows, pitched so heavily, that - we were afraid of being swamped. Just as a rope had been made - fast to the chest, and they were weighing it out of the wherry, - the ship's launch with water came alongside, and whether from - accident or wilfully I know not, although I suspect the latter, - the midshipman who steered her, shot her against the wherry, - which was crushed in, and immediately filled, leaving Tom and - me in the water, and in danger of being jammed to death between - the launch and the side of the frigate. The seamen in the boat, - however, forced her off with their oars, and hauled us in, while - our wherry sank with her gunnel even with the water's edge, and - floated away astern. - - "As soon as we had shaken ourselves a little, we went up the - side and asked one of the officers to send a boat to pick up our - wherry. - - "'Speak to the first lieutenant—there he is,' was the reply. - - "I went up to the person pointed out to me: 'If you please - sir'— - - "'What the devil do you want?' - - "'A boat, sir, to'— - - "'A boat! the devil you do!' - - "'To pick up our wherry, sir,' interrupted Tom. - - "'Pick it up yourself,' said the first lieutenant, passing us - and hailing the men aloft. 'Maintop there, hook on your stay. - Be smart. Lower away the yards. Marines and afterguard, clear - launch. Boatswain's-mate.' - - "'Here, sir.' - - "'Pipe marines and afterguard to clear launch.' - - "'Ay, ay, sir.' - - "'But we shall lose our boat, Jacob,' said Tom, to me. 'They - stove it in, and they ought to pick it up.' Tom then went up to - the master's-mate, whom we had brought on board, and explained - our difficulty. - - "'Upon my soul, I dar'n't say a word. I'm in a scrape for - breaking my leave. Why the devil didn't you take care of your - wherry, and haul ahead when you saw the launch coming.' - - "'How could we when the chest was hoisting out?' - - "'Very true. Well, I'm very sorry for you, but I must look after - my chest.' So saying, he disappeared down the gangway ladder. - - "'I'll try it again, any how,' said Tom, going up to the first - lieutenant. 'Hard case to lose our boat and our bread, sir,' said - Tom, touching his hat. - - "The first lieutenant, now that the marines and afterguard were - at a regular stamp and go, had, unfortunately, more leisure - to attend to us. He looked at us earnestly, and walked aft to - see if the wherry was yet in sight. At that moment up came the - master's-mate who had not yet reported himself to the first - lieutenant. - - "'Tom,' said I, 'there's a wherry close to; let us get into it, - and go after our boat ourselves.' - - "'Wait one moment to see if they will help us—and get our money, - at all events,' replied Tom; and we walked aft. - - "'Come on board, sir,' said the master's mate, touching his hat - with humility. - - "'You've broke your leave, sir,' replied the first lieutenant, - 'and now I've to send a boat to pick up the wherry through your - carelessness.' - - "'If you please, they are two very fine young men,' observed the - mate. 'Make capital foretop-men. Boat's not worth sending for, - sir.' - - "This hint, given by the mate to the first lieutenant, to regain - his favour, was not lost. 'Who are you, my lads?' said the first - lieutenant to us. - - "'Watermen, sir.' - - "'Watermen, hey! was that your own boat?' - - "'No, sir,' replied I, 'it belonged to the man that I serve with.' - - "'Oh! not your own boat? Are you an apprentice then?' - - "Yes, sir, both apprentices.' - - "'Show me your indentures.' - - "'We don't carry them about with us.' - - "'Then how am I to know that you are apprentices?' - - "'We can prove it, sir, if you wish it.' - - "'I do wish it; at all events, the captain will wish it.' - - "'Will you please to send for the boat, sir? she's almost out of - sight.' - - "'No, my lads, I can't find king's boats for such service.' - - "'Then, we had better go ourselves, Tom,' said I, and we went - forward to call the waterman who was lying on his oars close to - the frigate. - - "'Stop—stop—not so fast. Where are you going, my lads?' - - "'To pick up our boat, sir.' - - "'Without my leave, hey!' - - "'We don't belong to the frigate, sir.' - - "'No; but I think it very likely that you will, for you have no - protections.' - - "'We can send for them and have them down by to-morrow morning.' - - "'Well, you may do so, if you please, my lads; you cannot expect - me to believe every thing that is told me. Now, for instance, how - long have you to serve, my lad?' said he, addressing Tom. - - "'My time is up to-morrow, sir.' - - "'Up to-morrow. Why, then, I shall detain you until to-morrow, - and then I shall press you.' - - "'If you detain me now, sir, I am pressed to-day.' - - "'Oh no! you are only detained until you prove your - apprenticeship, that's all.' - - "'Nay, sir, I certainly am pressed during my apprenticeship.' - - "'Not at all, and I'll prove it to you. You don't belong to - the ship until you are victualled on her books. Now, I shan't - _victual_ you to-day, and therefore, you won't be _pressed_.' - - "'I shall be pressed with hunger, at all events,' replied Tom, - who never could lose a joke. - - "'No, you shan't; for I'll send you both a good dinner out of - the gun-room, so you won't be pressed at all,' replied the - lieutenant, laughing at Tom's reply. - - "You will allow me to go, sir, at all events,' replied I; 'for I - knew that the only chance of getting Tom and myself clear was by - hastening to Mr. Drummond for assistance. - - "'Pooh! nonsense; you must both row in the same boat as you have - done. The fact is, my lads, I've taken a great fancy to you both, - and I can't make up my mind to part with you.' - - "'It's hard to lose our bread, this way,' replied I. - - "'We will find you bread, and hard enough you will find it,' - replied the lieutenant, laughing; 'it's like a flint.' - - "'So we ask for bread, and you give us a stone,' said Tom; - 'that's 'gainst Scripture.' - - "'Very true, my lad; but the fact is, all the scriptures in the - world won't man the frigate. Men we must have, and get them how - we can, and where we can, and when we can. Necessity has no law; - at least it obliges us to break through all laws. After all, - there's no great hardship in serving the king for a year or two, - and filling your pockets with prize-money. Suppose you volunteer?' - - "'Will you allow us to go on shore for half an hour to think - about it?' replied I. - - "'No; I'm afraid of the crimps dissuading you. But, I'll give you - till to-morrow morning, and then I shall be sure of one, at all - events.' - - "'Thanky, for me,' replied Tom. - - "'You're very welcome,' replied the first lieutenant, as, - laughing at us, he went down the companion ladder to his dinner. - - "'Well, Jacob, we are in for it,' said Tom, as soon as we were - alone. 'Depend upon it, there's no mistake this time.' - - "'I'm afraid not,' replied I, 'unless we can get a letter to your - father, or Mr. Drummond, who, I am sure, would help us. But that - dirty fellow, who gave the first lieutenant the hint, said the - frigate sailed to-morrow morning; there he is, let us speak to - him.' - - "'When does the frigate sail?' said Tom to the master's-mate, who - was walking the deck. - - "'My good fellow, it's not the custom on board of a man-of-war - for men to ask officers to answer such impertinent questions. - It's quite sufficient for you to know that when the frigate - sails, you will have the honour of sailing in her.' - - "'Well, sir,' replied I, nettled at his answer, 'at all events, - you will have the goodness to pay us our fare. We have lost our - wherry, and our liberty, perhaps, through you; we may as well - have our two guineas.' - - "'Two guineas! It's two guineas you want, heh?' - - "'Yes, sir, that was the fare agreed upon.' - - "'Why, you must observe, my men,' said the master's-mate, hooking - a thumb into each arm-hole of his waistcoat, 'there must be a - little explanation as to that affair. I promised you two guineas - as watermen; but now that you belong to a man-of-war, you are no - longer watermen. I always pay my debts honourably when I can find - the lawful creditors; but where are the watermen?' - - "'Here we are, sir.' - - "'No, my lads, you are men-of-war's men now, and that quite - alters the case." - - "'But we are not so yet, sir: even if it did alter the case, we - are not pressed yet.' - - "'Well, then, you will be to-morrow, perhaps; at all events we - shall see. If you are allowed to go on shore again, I owe you two - guineas as watermen; and if you are detained as men-of-war's men, - why then you will only have done your duty in pulling down one of - your officers. You see, my lads, I say nothing but what's fair.' - - "'Well, sir, but when you hired us, we were watermen,' replied - Tom. - - "'Very true, so you were; but recollect the two guineas were not - due until you had completed your task, which was not until you - came on board. When you came on board you were pressed and became - men-of-war's men. You should have asked for your fare before the - first lieutenant got hold of you. Don't you perceive the justice - of my remarks?' - - "'Can't say I do, sir; but I perceive that there is very little - chance of our being paid,' said Tom. - - "'You are a lad of discrimination,' replied the master's-mate; - 'and now I advise you to drop the subject, or you may induce me - to pay you man-of-war fashion.' - - "'How's that, sir?' - - "'Over the face and eyes, as the cat paid the monkey,' replied - the master's-mate, walking leisurely away. - - "No go, Tom,' said I, smiling at the absurdity of the arguments. - - "'I'm afraid it's _no go_, in every way, Jacob. However, I don't - care much about it. I have had a little hankering after seeing - the world, and perhaps now's as well as any other time; but I'm - sorry for you, Jacob.' - - "'It's all my own fault,' replied I; and I fell into one of - those reveries so often indulged in of late as to the folly of - my conduct in asserting my independence, which had now ended in - my losing my liberty. But we were cold from the ducking we had - received, and moreover very hungry. The first lieutenant did not - forget his promise: he sent us up a good dinner, and a glass of - grog each, which we discussed under the half-deck between two - of the guns. We had some money in our pockets, and we purchased - some sheets of paper from the bumboat people, who were on the - main-deck supplying the seamen; and I wrote to Mr. Drummond and - Mr. Turnbull, as well as to Mary and old Tom, requesting the - two latter to forward our clothes to Deal, in case of our being - detained. Tom also wrote to comfort his mother, and the greatest - comfort he could give was, as he said, to promise to keep sober. - Having intrusted these letters to the bumboat women, who promised - faithfully to put them into the post-office, we had then nothing - else to do but to look out for some place to sleep. Our clothes - had dried on us, and we were walking under the half-deck, but - not a soul spoke to, or even took the least notice of us. In - a newly manned ship, just ready to sail, there is a universal - feeling of selfishness prevailing among the ship's company. Some, - if not most, had, like us, been pressed, and their thoughts - were occupied with their situation, and the change in their - prospects. Others were busy making their little arrangements with - their wives or relations; while the mass of the seamen, not yet - organized by discipline, or known to each other, were in a state - of dis-union and individuality, which naturally induced every - man to look after himself, without caring for his neighbour. We - therefore could not expect, nor did we receive any sympathy; - we were in a scene of bustle and noise, yet alone. A spare - topsail, which had been stowed for the present between two of the - guns, was the best accommodation which offered itself. We took - possession of it, and, tired with exertion of mind and body, were - soon fast asleep." - -In the mean time, doubtless, there was weeping and wailing at the -homes of the pressed seamen. Parents, tottering on the verge of the -grave, and deprived of their natural support—wives and children at the -fireside uncheered by the presence of the head of the family—could -only weep for the absent ones, and pray that their government might one -day cease to be tyrannical. - - - - -CHAPTER VII. - -IRISH SLAVERY. - - -For centuries the Irish nation has groaned under the yoke of England. -The chain has worn to the bone. The nation has felt its strength -depart. Many of its noblest and fairest children have pined away in -dungeons or starved by the roadside. The tillers of the soil, sweating -from sunrise to sunset for a bare subsistence, have been turned from -their miserable cabins—hovels, yet homes—and those who have been -allowed to remain have had their substance devoured by a government -seemingly never satisfied with the extent of its taxation. They have -suffered unmitigated persecution for daring to have a religion of their -own. Seldom has a conquered people suffered more from the cruelties -and exactions of the conquerors. While Clarkson and Wilberforce were -giving their untiring labours to the cause of emancipating negro slaves -thousands of miles away, they overlooked a hideous system of slavery -at their very doors—the slavery of a people capable of enjoying the -highest degree of civil and religious freedom. Says William Howitt— - -[Illustration: IRISH TENANT ABOUT TO EMIGRATE.] - - "The great grievance of Ireland—the Monster Grievance—is just - England itself. The curse of Ireland is bad government, and - nothing more. And who is the cause of this? Nobody but England. - Who made Ireland a conquered country? England. Who introduced all - the elements of wrangling, discontent, and injustice? England. - Who set two hostile churches, and two hostile races, Celts and - Saxons, together by the ears in that country? England, of course. - Her massacres, her military plantations, her violent seizure of - ancient estates, her favouritism, her monstrous laws and modes - of government, were the modern emptying of Pandora's box—the - shaking out of a bag-full of Kilkenny cats on the soil of that - devoted country. The consequences are exactly those that we have - before us. Wretched Saxon landlords, who have left one-fourth of - the country uncultivated, and squeezed the population to death - by extortion on the rest. A great useless church maintained on - the property of the ejected Catholics—who do as men are sure to - do, kick at robbery, and feel it daily making their gall doubly - bitter. And then we shake our heads and sagely talk about race. - If the race be bad, why have we not taken pains to improve it? - Why, for scores of years, did we forbid them even to be educated? - Why do we complain of their being idle and improvident, and - helpless, when we have done every thing we could to make them so? - Are our ministers and Parliaments any better? Are they not just - as idle, and improvident, and helpless, as it regards Ireland? - Has not this evil been growing these three hundred years? Have - any remedies been applied but those of Elizabeth, and the Stuarts - and Straffords, the Cromwells, and Dutch William's? Arms and - extermination? We have built barracks instead of schools; we have - sown gunpowder instead of corn—and now we wonder at the people - and the crops. The wisest and best of men have for ages been - crying out for reform and improvement in Ireland, and all that we - have done has been to augment the army and the police." - -The condition of the Irish peasantry has long been most miserable. -Untiring toil for the lords of the soil gives the labourers only -such a living as an American slave would despise. Hovels fit for -pig-styes—rags for clothing—potatoes for food—are the fruits of the -labour of these poor wretches. A vast majority of them are attached to -the Roman Catholic Church, yet they are compelled to pay a heavy tax -for the support of the Established Church. This, and other exactions, -eat up their little substance, and prevent them from acquiring any -considerable property. Their poor homes are merely held by the -sufferance of grasping agents for landlords, and they are compelled to -submit to any terms he may prescribe or become wandering beggars, which -alternative is more terrible to many of them than the whip would be. - -O'Connell, the indomitable advocate of his oppressed countrymen, used -the following language in his repeal declaration of July 27, 1841:— - - "It ought to sink deep into the minds of the English aristocracy, - that no people on the face of the earth pay to another such a - tribute for permission to live, as Ireland pays to England in - absentee rents and surplus revenues. There is no such instance; - there is nothing like it in ancient or modern history. There is - not, and there never was, such an exhausting process applied - to any country as is thus applied to Ireland. It is a solecism - in political economy, inflicted upon Ireland alone, of all the - nations that are or ever were." - -Surely it is slavery to pay such a price for a miserable existence. We -cannot so abuse terms as to call a people situated as the Irish are, -free. They are compelled to labour constantly without receiving an -approach to adequate compensation, and they have no means of escape -except by sundering the ties of home, kindred, and country. - -The various repulsive features of the Irish system can be illustrated -much more fully than our limits will permit. But we will proceed to a -certain extent, as it is in Ireland that the results of British tyranny -have been most frightfully manifested. - -The population of Ireland is chiefly agricultural, yet there are no -agricultural labourers in the sense in which that term is employed in -Great Britain. A peasant living entirely by hire, without land, is -wholly unknown. - -The persons who till the ground may be divided into three classes, -which are sometimes distinguished by the names of small farmers, -cottiers, and casual labourers; or, as the last are sometimes called, -"con-acre" men. - -The class of small farmers includes those who hold from five to twelve -Irish acres. The cottiers are those who hold about two acres, in return -for which they labour for the farmer of twenty acres or more, or for -the gentry. - -Con-acre is ground hired, not by the year, but for a single crop, -usually of potatoes. The tenant of con-acre receives the land in time -to plant potatoes, and surrenders it so soon as the crop has been -secured. The farmer from whom he receives it usually ploughs and -manures the land, and sometimes carts the crop. Con-acre is taken by -tradesmen, small farmers, and cottiers, but chiefly by labourers, -who are, in addition, always ready to work for hire when there is -employment for them. It is usually let in roods, and other small -quantities, rarely exceeding half an acre. These three classes, not -very distinct from each other, form the mass of the Irish population. - - "According to the census of 1831," says Mr. Bicheno, "the - population of Ireland was 7,767,401; the 'occupiers employing - labourers' were 95,339; the 'labourers employed in agriculture,' - (who do not exist in Ireland as a class corresponding to that - in England,) and the 'occupiers not employing labourers,' - amounted together to 1,131,715. The two last descriptions pretty - accurately include the cottier tenants and cottier labourers; - and, as these are nearly all heads of families, it may be - inferred from hence how large a portion of the soil of Ireland - is cultivated by a peasant tenantry; and when to these a further - addition is made of a great number of little farmers, a tolerably - accurate opinion may be formed of the insignificant weight and - influence that any middle class in the rural districts can have, - as compared with the peasants. Though many may occupy a greater - extent of land than the 'cottiers,' and, if held immediately - from the proprietor, generally at a more moderate rent, and may - possess some trifling stock, almost all the inferior tenantry of - Ireland belong to one class. The cottier and the little farmer - have the same feelings, the same interests to watch over, and - the same sympathies. Their diet and their clothing are not very - dissimilar, though they may vary in quantity; and the one cannot - be ordinarily distinguished from the other by any external - appearance. Neither does the dress of the children of the little - farmers mark any distinction of rank, as it does in England; - while their wives are singularly deficient in the comforts of - apparel."—_Report of Commissioners of Poor Inquiry._ - -The whole population, small farmers, cottiers, and labourers, are -equally devoid of capital. The small farmer holds his ten or twelve -acres of land at a nominal rent—a rent determined not by what the -land will yield, but by the intensity of the competition to obtain -it. He takes from his farm a wretched subsistence, and gives over the -remainder to his landlord. This remainder rarely equals the nominal -rent, the growing arrears of which are allowed to accumulate against -him. - -The cottier labours constantly for his landlord, (or master, as he -would have been termed of old,) and receives, for his wages as a serf, -land which will afford him but a miserable subsistence. Badly off as -these two classes are, their condition is still somewhat better than -that of the casual labourer, who hires con-acre, and works for wages at -seasons when employment can be had, to get in the first place the means -of paying the rent for his con-acre. - -Mr. Bicheno says— - - "It appears from the evidence that the average crops of con-acre - produce about as much or a little more, (at the usual price of - potatoes in the autumn,) than the amount of the rent, seed, and - tenant's labour, say 5_s._ or 10_s._ Beyond this the labourer - does not seem to derive any other direct profit from taking - con-acre; but he has the following inducements. In some cases - he contracts to work out a part, or the whole, of his con-acre - rent; and, even when this indulgence is not conceded to him by - previous agreement, he always hopes, and endeavours to prevail on - the farmer to be allowed this privilege, which, in general want - of employment, is almost always so much clear gain to him. By - taking con-acre he also considers that he is _securing_ food to - the extent of the crop for himself and family at the low autumn - price; whereas, if he had to go to market for it, he would be - subject to the loss of time, and sometimes expense of carriage, - to the fluctuations of the market, and to an advance of price in - spring and summer." - -Of the intensity of the competition for land, the following extracts -from the evidence may give an idea:— - - "_Galway_, F. 35.—'If I now let it be known that I had a farm - of five acres to let, I should have fifty bidders in twenty-four - hours, and all of them would be ready to promise any rent that - might be asked.'—_Mr. Birmingham._ The landlord takes on account - whatever portion of the rent the tenant may be able to offer; - the remainder he does not remit, but allows to remain over. A - remission of a portion of the rent in either plentiful or scarce - seasons is never made as a matter of course; when it does take - place, it is looked upon as a favour. - - 'The labourer is, from the absence of any other means of - subsisting himself and family, thrown upon the hire of land, and - the land he must hire at any rate; the payment of the promised - rent is an after consideration. He always offers such a rent as - leaves him nothing of the produce for his own use but potatoes, - his corn being entirely for his landlord's claim.'—_Rev. Mr. - Hughes_, P. P., and _Parker_. - - "_Leitrim_, F. 36 and 37.—'So great is the competition for small - holdings, that, if a farm of five acres were vacant, I really - believe that nine out of every ten men in the neighbourhood would - bid for it if they thought they had the least chance of getting - it: they would be prepared to outbid each other, _ad infinitum_, - in order to get possession of the land. _The rent which the - people themselves would deem moderate, would not in any case - admit of their making use of any other food than potatoes_; there - are even many instances in this barony where the occupier cannot - feed himself and family off the land he holds. In his anxiety to - grow as much oats (his only marketable produce) as will meet - the various claims upon him, he devotes so small a space to the - cultivation of potatoes, that he is obliged to take a portion of - con-acre, and to pay for it by wages earned at a time when he - would have been better employed on his own account.'—_Rev. T. - Maguire_, P. P." - -The land is subdivided into such small portions, that the labourer has -not sufficient to grow more than a very scanty provision for himself -and family. The better individuals of the class manage to secrete some -of its produce from the landlord, to do which it is of course necessary -that they should not employ it on their land: but if land is offered to -be let, persons will be found so eager for it as to make compliments to -some one of the family of the landlord or of his agent. - -The exactions of agents and sub-agents are the most frequent causes -of suffering among the peasantry. These agents are a class peculiar -to Ireland. They take a large extent of ground, which they let out in -small portions to the real cultivator. They grant leases sometimes, but -the tenant is still in their power, and they exact personal services, -presents, bribes; and draw from the land as much as they can, without -the least regard for its permanent welfare. That portion of the poor -peasant's substance which escapes the tithes and tax of government is -seized by the remorseless agents, and thus the wretched labourer can -get but a miserable subsistence by the severest toil. - -In general the tenant takes land, promising to pay a "nominal rent," -in other words, a rent he never can pay. This rent falls into arrear, -and the landlord allows the arrear to accumulate against him, in the -hope that if he should chance to have an extraordinary crop, or if he -should obtain it from any unexpected source, the landlord may claim it -for his arrears. - -The report of Poor-Law Commissioners states that "Agricultural wages -vary from 6_d._ to 1_s._ a day; that the average of the country in -general is about 8½_d._; and that the earnings of the labourers, on -an average of the whole class, are from 2_s._ to 2_s._ 6_d._ a week, or -thereabout." - - "Thus circumstanced, it is impossible for the able-bodied, in - general, to provide against sickness or the temporary absence of - employment, or against old age or the destitution of their widows - and children in the contingent event of their own premature - decease. - - "A great portion of them are insufficiently provided at any time - with the commonest necessaries of life. Their habitations are - wretched hovels; several of a family sleep together upon straw - or upon the bare ground, sometimes with a blanket, sometimes not - even so much to cover them; their food commonly consists of dry - potatoes, and with these they are at times so scantily supplied - as to be obliged to stint themselves to one spare meal in the - day. There are even instances of persons being driven by hunger - to seek sustenance in wild herbs. They sometimes get a herring, - or a little milk, but they never get meat, except at Christmas, - Easter, and Shrovetide." - -The peasant finds himself obliged to live upon the cheapest food, -_potatoes_, and potatoes of the worst quality, because they yield -most, and are consequently the cheapest. These potatoes are "little -better than turnips." "Lumpers" is the name given to them. They are two -degrees removed from those which come ordinarily to our tables, and -which are termed "apples." Mr. Bicheno says, describing the three sorts -of potatoes—apples, cups, and lumpers— - - "The first named are of the best quality, but produce the least - in quantity; the cups are not so good in quality as the apples, - but produce more; and the lumpers are the worst of the three - in quality, but yield the heaviest crop. For these reasons - the apples are generally sent to Dublin and other large towns - for sale. The cups are grown for the consumption of smaller - towns, and are eaten by the larger farmers, and the few of the - small occupiers and labourers who are in better circumstances - than the generality of their class; and the lumpers are grown - by large farmers for stall-feeding cattle, and by most of the - small occupiers and all the labourers (except a few in constant - employment, and having but small families) for their own food. - Though most of the small occupiers and labourers grow apples and - cups, they do not use them themselves, with the few exceptions - mentioned, except as holiday fare, and as a little indulgence - on particular occasions. They can only afford to consume the - lumpers, or coarsest quality, themselves, on account of the much - larger produce and consequent cheapness of that sort. The apples - yield 10 to 15 per cent. less than the cups, and the cups 10 to - 15 per cent. less than the lumpers, making a difference of 20 - to 30 per cent. between the produce of the best and the worst - qualities. To illustrate the practice and feeling of the country - in this respect, the following occurrence was related by one of - the witnesses:—'A landlord, in passing the door of one of his - tenants, a small occupier, who was in arrears with his rent, saw - one of his daughters washing potatoes at the door, and perceiving - that they were of the apple kind, asked her if they were intended - for their dinner. Upon being answered that they were, he entered - the house, and asked the tenant what he meant by eating _apple_ - potatoes when they were fetching so good a price in Dublin, and - while he did not pay him (the landlord) his rent?'" - -Lumpers, dry, that is, without milk or any other addition to them, are -the ordinary food of the people. The pig which is seen in most Irish -cabins, and the cow and fowls kept by the small farmers, go to market -to pay the rent; even the eggs are sold. Small farmers, as well as -labourers, rarely have even milk to their potatoes. - -The following graphic description of an Irish peasant's home, we quote -from the Pictorial Times, of February 7, 1846. Some districts in -Ireland are crowded with such hovels:— - - "_Cabin of J. Donoghue._—The hovel to which the eye is now - directed scarcely exceeds Donoghue's length. He will have almost - as much space when laid in his grave. He can stand up in no part - of his cabin except the centre; and yet he is not an aged man, - who has outlived all his connections, and with a frame just ready - to mingle with its native dust. Nor is he a bachelor, absolutely - impenetrable to female charms, or looking out for some damsel - to whom he may be united, 'for better or for worse.' Donoghue, - the miserable inmate of that hovel, on the contrary, has a wife - and three children; and these, together with a dog, a pig, and - sundry fowls, find in that cabin their common abode. Human beings - and brutes are there huddled together; and the motive to the - occupancy of the former is just the same as that which operates - to the keeping of the latter—what they produce. Did not the - pig and the fowls make money, Donoghue would have none; did not - Donoghue pay his rent, the cabin would quickly have another - tenant. Indeed, his rent is only paid, and he and his family - saved from being turned adrift into the wide world, by his pig - and his fowls. - - "But the cabin should be examined more particularly. It has a - hole for a door, it has another for a window, it has a third - through which the smoke may find vent, and nothing more. No - resemblance to the door of an English cottage, however humble, - nor the casement it is never without, nor even the rudest chimney - from which the blue smoke arises, suggesting to the observer many - ideas of comfort for its inmates, can possibly be traced. The - walls, too, are jet black; and that which ought to be a floor is - mud, thick mud, full of holes. The bed of the family is sod. The - very cradle is a sort of swing suspended from the roof, and it is - set in motion by the elbow of the wretched mother of the wretched - child it contains, if she is not disposed to make use of her - hands. - - "The question may fairly be proposed—What comfort can a man have - in such circumstances? Can he find some relief from his misery, - as many have found and still find it, by conversing with his - wife? No. To suppose this, is to imagine him standing in a higher - class of beings than the one of which he has always formed a - part. Like himself, too, his wife is oppressed; the growth of her - faculties is stunted; and, it may be, she is hungry, faint, and - sick. Can he talk with his children? No. What can he, who knows - nothing, tell them? What hope can he stimulate who has nothing to - promise? Can he ask in a neighbour? No. He has no hospitality to - offer him, and the cabin is crowded with his own family. Can he - accost a stranger who may travel in the direction of his hovel, - to make himself personally acquainted with his condition and that - of others? No. He speaks a language foreign to an Englishman - or a Scotchman, and which those who hate the 'Saxon,' whatever - compliments they may pay him for their own purposes, use all the - means they possess to maintain. Can he even look at his pig with - the expectation that he will one day eat the pork or the bacon it - will yield? No; not he. He knows that not a bone of the loin or - a rasher will be his. That pig will go, like all the pigs he has - had, to pay his rent. Only one comfort remains, which he has in - common with his pig and his dog, the warmth of his peat fire. - Poor Donoghue! thou belongest to a race often celebrated as 'the - finest peasantry in the world,' but it would be difficult to find - a savage in his native forest who is not better off than thou!" - -There is one other comfort besides the peat fire, which Donoghue may -have, and that is an occasional gill of whisky—a temporary comfort, -an ultimate destruction—a new fetter to bind him down in his almost -brutal condition. In Ireland, as in England, intoxication is the Lethe -in which the heart-sick labourers strive to forget their sorrows. -Intemperance prevails most where poverty is most generally felt. - -The Pictorial Times thus sketches a cabin of the better class, -belonging to a man named Pat Brennan:— - - "We will enter it, and look round with English eyes. We will do - so, too, in connection with the remembrance of an humble dwelling - in England. There we find at least a table, but here there is - none. There we find some chairs, but here there are none. There - we find a cupboard, but here there is none. There we find some - crockery and earthenware, but here there is none. There we find - a clock, but here there is none. There we find a bed, bedstead, - and coverings, but here there are none. There is a brick, or - stone, or boarded floor, but here there is none. What a descent - would an English agricultural labourer have to make if he changed - situations with poor Pat Brennan, who is better off than most - of the tenants of Derrynane Beg, and it may be in the best - condition of them all! Brennan's cabin has one room, in which he - and his family live, of course with the fowls and pigs. One end - is partitioned off in the manner of a loft, the loft being the - potato store. The space underneath, where the fire is kindled, - has side spaces for seats. In some instances, the turf-bed is - on one side and the seats on the other. The other contents of - the dwelling are—a milk-pail, a pot, a wooden bowl or two, a - platter, and a broken ladder. A gaudy picture of the Virgin Mary - may sometimes be seen in such cabins." - -The eviction of the wretched peasantry has caused an immense amount of -misery, and crowds of the evicted ones have perished from starvation. -The tillers of the soil are mere tenants at will, and may ejected -from their homes without a moment's notice. A whim of the landlord, -the failure of the potato crop, or of the ordinary resources of the -labourers, by which they are rendered unable to pay their rent for a -short time, usually results in an edict of levelling and extermination. -A recent correspondent of the London Illustrated News, thus describes -the desolation of an Irish village:— - - "The village of Killard forms part of the Union of Kilrush, and - possesses an area of 17,022 acres. It had a population, in 1841, - of 6850 souls, and was valued to the poor-rate at £4254. It is - chiefly the property, I understand, of Mr. John McMahon Blackall, - whose healthy residence is admirably situated on the brow of a - hill, protected by another ridge from the storms of the Atlantic. - His roof-tree yet stands there, but the people have disappeared. - The village was mostly inhabited by fishermen, who united with - their occupation on the waters the cultivation of potatoes. When - the latter failed, it might have been expected that the former - should have been pursued with more vigour than ever; but boats - and lines were sold for present subsistence, and to the failure - of the potatoes was added the abandonment of the fisheries. The - rent dwindled to nothing, and then came the leveller and the - exterminator. What has become of the 6850 souls, I know not; but - not ten houses remain of the whole village to inform the wayfarer - where, according to the population returns, they were to be found - in 1841. They were here, but are gone for ever; and all that - remains of their abodes are a few mouldering walls, and piles of - offensive thatch turning into manure. Killard is an epitome of - half Ireland. If the abodes of the people had not been so slight, - that they have mingled, like Babylon, with their original clay, - Ireland would for ages be renowned for its ruins; but, as it is, - the houses are swept away like the people, and not a monument - remains of a multitude, which, in ancient Asia or in the wilds of - America, would numerically constitute a great nation." - -The same correspondent mentions a number of other instances of the -landlord's devastation, and states that large tracts of fertile land -over which he passed were lying waste, while the peasantry were -starving by the roadside, or faring miserably in the workhouses. At -Carihaken, in the county of Galway, the levellers had been at work, and -had tumbled down eighteen houses. The correspondent says— - - "In one of them dwelt John Killian, who stood by me while I made - a sketch of the remains of his dwelling. He told me that he and - his fathers before him had owned this now ruined cabin for ages, - and that he had paid £4 a year for four acres of ground. He owed - no rent; before it was due, the landlord's drivers cut down his - crops, carried them off, gave him no account of the proceeds, - and then tumbled his house. The hut made against the end wall - of a former habitation was not likely to remain, as a decree - had gone forth entirely to clear the place. The old man also - told me that his son having cut down, on the spot that was once - his own garden, a few sticks to make him a shelter, was taken - up, prosecuted, and sentenced to two months' confinement, for - destroying trees and making waste of the property. - - "I must supply you with another sketch of a similar subject, - on the road between Maam and Clifden, in Joyce's County, once - famous for the Patagonian stature of the inhabitants, who are now - starved down to ordinary dimensions. High up on the mountain, - but on the roadside, stands the scalpeen of Keillines. It is - near General Thompson's property. Conceive five human beings - living in such a hole: the father was out, at work; the mother - was getting fuel on the hills, and the children left in the hut - could only say they were hungry. Their appearance confirmed their - words—want was deeply engraved in their faces, and their lank - bodies were almost unprotected by clothing. - - "From Clifden to Ouchterade, twenty-one miles, is a dreary drive - over a moor, unrelieved except by a glimpse of Mr. Martin's house - at Ballynahinch, and of the residence of Dean Mahon. Destitute - as this tract is of inhabitants, about Ouchterade some thirty - houses have been recently demolished. A gentleman who witnessed - the scene told me nothing could exceed the heartlessness of - the levellers, if it were not the patient submission of the - sufferers. They wept, indeed; and the children screamed with - agony at seeing their homes destroyed and their parents in tears; - but the latter allowed themselves unresistingly to be deprived of - what is to most people the dearest thing on earth next to their - lives—their only home. - - "The public records, my own eyes, a piercing wail of wo - throughout the land—all testify to the vast extent of the - evictions at the present time. Sixteen thousand and odd persons - unhoused in the Union of Kilrush before the month of June in - the present year; seventy-one thousand one hundred and thirty - holdings done away in Ireland, and nearly as many houses - destroyed, in 1848; two hundred and fifty-four thousand holdings - of more than one acre and less than five acres, put an end to - between 1841 and 1848: six-tenths, in fact, of the lowest class - of tenantry driven from their now roofless or annihilated cabins - and houses, makes up the general description of that desolation - of which Tullig and Mooven are examples. The ruin is great and - complete. The blow that effected it was irresistible. It came in - the guise of charity and benevolence; it assumed the character - of the last and best friend of the peasantry, and it has struck - them to the heart. They are prostrate and helpless. The once - frolicksome people—even the saucy beggars—have disappeared, - and given place to wan and haggard objects, who are so resigned - to their doom that they no longer expect relief. One beholds - only shrunken frames, scarcely covered with flesh—crawling - skeletons, who appear to have risen from their graves, and are - ready to return frightened to that abode. They have little other - covering than that nature has bestowed on the human body—a - poor protection against inclement weather; and, now that the - only hand from which they expected help is turned against them, - even hope is departed, and they are filled with despair. Than - the present Earl of Carlisle there is not a more humane nor a - kinder-hearted nobleman in the kingdom; he is of high honour and - unsullied reputation; yet the poor-law he was mainly the means of - establishing for Ireland, with the best intentions, has been one - of the chief causes of the people being at this time turned out - of their homes, and forced to burrow in holes, and share, till - they are discovered, the ditches and the bogs with otters and - snipes. - - "The instant the poor-law was passed, and property was made - responsible for poverty, the whole of the land-owners, who - had before been careless about the people, and often allowed - them to plant themselves on untenanted spots, or divide their - tenancies—delighted to get the promise of a little additional - rent—immediately became deeply interested in preventing that, - and in keeping down the number of the people. Before they had - rates to pay, they cared nothing for them; but the law and their - self-interest made them care, and made them extirpators. Nothing - less than some general desire like that of cupidity falling - in with an enactment, and justified by a theory—nothing less - than a passion which works silently in all, and safely under - the sanction of a law—could have effected such wide-spread - destruction. Even humanity was enlisted by the poor-law on the - side of extirpation. As long as there was no legal provision - for the poor, a landlord had some repugnance to drive them - from every shelter; but the instant the law took them under its - protection, and forced the land-owner to pay a rate to provide - for them, repugnance ceased: they had a legal home, however - inefficient, to go to; and eviction began. Even the growth - of toleration seems to have worked to the same end. Till the - Catholics were emancipated, they were all—rich and poor, priests - and peasants—united by a common bond; and Protestant landlords - beginning evictions on a great scale would have roused against - them the whole Catholic nation. It would have been taken up as a - religious question, as well as a question of the poor, prior to - 1829. Subsequent to that time—with a Whig administration, with - all offices open to Catholics—no religious feelings could mingle - with the matter: eviction became a pure question of interest; and - while the priests look now, perhaps, as much to the government as - to their flocks for support, Catholic landlords are not behind - Protestant landlords in clearing their estates." - -The person from whom we make the above quotation visited Ireland after -the famine consequent upon the failure of the potato crop had done its -worst—in the latter part of 1849. But famine seems to prevail, to a -certain extent, at all times, in that unhappy land—and thus it is -clear that the accidental failure of a crop has less to do with the -misery of the people than radical misgovernment. - - "To the Irish, such desolation is nothing new. They have long - been accustomed to this kind of skinning. Their history, ever - since it was written, teems with accounts of land forcibly taken - from one set of owners and given to another; of clearings and - plantings exactly similar in principle to that which is now - going on; of driving men from Leinster to Munster, from Munster - to Connaught, and from Connaught into the sea. Without going - back to ancient proscriptions and confiscations—all the land - having been, between the reign of Henry II. and William III. - confiscated, it is affirmed, three times over—we must mention - that the clearing so conspicuous in 1848 has now been going on - for several years. The total number of holdings in 1841, of above - one acre, and not exceeding five acres each, was 310,375; and, - in 1847, they had been diminished to 125,926. In that single - class of holdings, therefore, 184,449, between 1841 and 1847 - inclusive, had been done away with, and 24,147 were extinguished - in 1848. Within that period, the number of farms of five acres - and upward, particularly of farms of thirty acres and upward, was - increased 210,229, the latter class having increased by 108,474. - Little or no fresh land was broken up; and they, therefore, - could only have been formed by amassing in these larger farms - numerous small holdings. Before the year 1847, therefore, - before 1846, when the potato rot worked so much mischief, even - before 1845, the process of clearing the land, of putting down - homesteads and consolidating farms, had been carried to a great - extent; before any provision had been made by a poor-law for the - evicted families, before the turned-out labourers and little - farmers had even the workhouse for a refuge, multitudes had - been continually driven from their homes to a great extent, as - in 1848. The very process, therefore, on which government now - relies for the present relief and the future improvement of - Ireland, was begun and was carried to a great extent several - years before the extremity of distress fell upon it in 1846. - We are far from saying that the potato rot was caused by the - clearing system; but, by disheartening the people, by depriving - them of security, by contributing to their recklessness, by - paralyzing their exertions, by promoting outrages, that system - undoubtedly aggravated all the evils of that extraordinary - visitation."—_Illustrated News_, October 13, 1849. - -The correspondent of the News saw from one hundred and fifty to one -hundred and eighty funerals of victims to the want of food, the whole -number attended by not more than fifty persons. So hardened were the -men regularly employed in the removal of the dead from the workhouse, -that they would drive to the churchyard sitting upon the coffins, and -smoking with apparent enjoyment. These men had evidently "supped full -of horrors." A funeral was no solemnity to them. They had seen the -wretched peasants in the madness of starvation, and death had come as a -soothing angel. Why should the quieted sufferers be lamented? - -[Illustration: MULLIN'S HUT AT SCULL.] - -A specimen of the in-door horrors of Scull may be seen in the sketch -of a hut of a poor man named Mullins, who lay dying in a corner, upon -a heap of straw supplied by the Relief Committee, while his three -wretched children crouched over a few embers of turf, as if to raise -the last remaining spark of life. This poor man, it appears, had buried -his wife about five days before, and was, in all probability, on the -eve of joining her, when he was found out by the efforts of the vicar, -who, for a few short days, saved him from that which no kindness could -ultimately avert. The dimensions of Mullins's hut did not exceed ten -feet square, and the dirt and filth was ankle-deep upon the floor. - - "Commander Caffin, the captain of the steam-sloop _Scourge_, on - the south coast of Ireland, has written a letter to a friend, - dated February 15, 1847, in which he gives a most distressing - and graphic account of the scenes he witnessed in the course of - his duty in discharging a cargo of meal at Scull. After stating - that three-fourths of the inhabitants carry a tale of wo in their - countenances, and are reduced to mere skeletons, he mentions the - result of what he saw while going through the parish with the - rector, Dr. Traill. He says— - - "'Famine exists to a fearful degree, with all its horrors. Fever - has sprung up, consequent upon the wretchedness; and swellings - of limbs and body, and diarrhœa, upon the want of nourishment, - are everywhere to be found. Dr. Traill's parish is twenty-one - miles in extent, containing about eighteen thousand souls, with - not more than half a dozen gentlemen in the whole of it. He drove - me about five or six miles; but we commenced our visits before - leaving the village, and in no house that I entered was there not - to be found the dead or dying. In particularizing two or three, - they may be taken as the features of the whole. There was no - picking or choosing, but we took them just as they came. - - "'The first which I shall mention was a cabin, rather above the - ordinary ones in appearance and comfort; in it were three young - women, and one young man, and three children, all crouched over - a fire—pictures of misery. Dr. Traill asked after the father, - upon which one of the girls opened a door leading into another - cabin, and there were the father and mother in bed; the father - the most wretched picture of starvation possible to conceive, a - skeleton with life, his power of speech gone; the mother but a - little better—her cries for mercy and food were heart-rending. - It was sheer destitution that had brought them to this. They had - been well to do in the world, with their cow, and few sheep, and - potato-ground. Their crops failed, and their cattle were stolen; - although, anticipating this, they had taken their cow and sheep - into the cabin with them every night, but they were stolen in the - daytime. The son had worked on the road, and earned his 8_d._ a - day, but this would not keep the family, and he, from work and - insufficiency of food, is laid up, and will soon be as bad as his - father. They had nothing to eat in the house, and I could see no - hope for any one of them. - - "'In another cabin we went into, a mother and her daughter were - there—the daughter emaciated, and lying against the wall—the - mother naked upon some straw on the ground, with a rug over - her—a most distressing object of misery. She writhed about, and - bared her limbs, in order to show her state of exhaustion. She - had wasted away until nothing but the skin covered the bones—she - cannot have survived to this time. - - "'Another that I entered had, indeed, the appearance of - wretchedness without, but its inside was misery! Dr. Traill, on - putting his head inside the hole which answered for a door, said, - 'Well, Philis, how is your mother to-day?—he having been with - her the day before—and was replied to, 'Oh, sir, is it you? - Mother is dead!' and there, fearful reality, was the daughter, - a skeleton herself, crouched and crying over the lifeless body - of her mother, which was on the floor, cramped up as she had - died, with her rags and her cloak about her, by the side of a - few embers of peat. In the next cabin were three young children - belonging to the daughter, whose husband had run away from - her, all pictures of death. The poor creature said she did not - know what to do with the corpse—she had no means of getting - it removed, and she was too exhausted to remove it herself: - this cabin was about three miles from the rectory. In another - cabin, the door of which was stopped with dung, was a poor woman - whom we had taken by surprise, as she roused up evidently much - astonished. She burst into tears upon seeing the doctor, and said - she had not been enabled to sleep since the corpse of the woman - had lain in her bed. This was a poor creature who was passing - this miserable cabin, and asked the old woman to allow her to - rest herself for a few moments, when she had laid down, but never - rose up again; she died in an hour or so, from sheer exhaustion. - The body had remained in this hovel of six feet square with the - poor old woman for four days, and she could not get anybody to - remove it.' - - "The letter proceeds:— - - "'I could in this manner take you through the thirty or more - cottages we visited; but they, without exception, were all - alike—the dead and the dying in each; and I could tell you - more of the truth of the heart-rending scene were I to mention - the lamentations and bitter cryings of each of these poor - creatures on the threshold of death. Never in my life have I - seen such wholesale misery, nor could I have thought it so - complete.'"—_Illustrated News_, February 20, 1847. [At this - period, famine prevailed throughout Ireland.] - -At the village of Mienils, a man named Leahey perished during the great -famine, with many circumstances of horror. When too weak, from want of -food, to help himself, he was stretched in his filthy hovel, when his -famished dogs attacked and so mangled him that he expired in intense -agony. Can the history of any other country present such terrible -instances of misery and starvation? The annals of Ireland have been -dark, indeed; and those who have wilfully cast that gloom upon them, -must emancipate Africans, and evangelize the rest of mankind, for a -century, at least, to lay the ghosts of the murdered Irish. - -An Irish funeral of later days, with its attendant circumstances of -poverty and gloom, is truly calculated to stir the sensitive heart of a -poet. The obsequies display the meagre results of attempts to bury the -dead with decency. The mourners are few, but their grief is sincere; -and they weep for the lost as they would be wept for when Death, who -is ever walking by their side, lays his cold hand on them. During the -great famine, some poor wretches perished while preparing funerals for -their friends. In the following verses, published in Howitt's Journal, -of the 1st of April, 1847, we have a fine delineation of an Irish -funeral, such as only a poet could give:— - - - - - AN IRISH FUNERAL. - - BY THE AUTHOR OF "ORION." - - - "Funerals performed."—_London_ Trades. - - "On Wednesday, the remains of a poor woman, who died of hunger, - were carried to their last resting-place by three women, and a - blind man the son-in-law of the deceased. The distance between - the wretched hut of the deceased and the grave-yard was nearly - three miles."—_Tuam Herald._ - - - Heavily plod - Highroad and sod, - With the cold corpse clod - Whose soul is with God! - - An old door's the hearse - Of the skeleton corpse, - And three women bear it, - With a blind man to share it: - Over flint, over bog, - They stagger and jog:— - Weary, and hungry, and hopeless, and cold, - They slowly bear onward the bones to the mould. - Heavily plod - Highroad and sod, - With the cold corpse clod, - Whose soul is with God! - - Barefoot ye go, - Through the frost, through the snow; - Unsteady and slow, - Your hearts mad with woe; - Bewailing and blessing the poor rigid clod— - The dear dead-and-cold one, whose soul is with God. - Heavily plod - Highroad and sod, - This ruin and rod - Are from man—and not God! - - Now out spake her sister,— - "Can we be quite sure - Of the mercy of Heaven, - Or that Death is Life's cure? - A cure for the misery, famine, and pains, - Which our cold rulers view as the end of their gains?" - Heavily plod - Highroad and sod, - With the cold corpse clod, - Whose soul is with God! - - "In a land where's plenty," - The old mother said,— - "But not for poor creatures - Who pawn rags and bed— - There's plenty for rich ones, and those far away, - Who drain off our life-blood, so thoughtless and gay!" - Heavily plod - Highroad and sod, - With the cold corpse clod, - Whose soul is with God! - - Then wailed the third woman— - "The darling was worth - The rarest of jewels - That shine upon earth. - When hunger was gnawing her—wasted and wild— - She shared her last morsel with my little child." - Heavily plod - Highroad and sod, - With the cold corpse clod, - Whose soul is with God! - - "O Christ!" pray'd the blind man, - "We are not so poor, - Though we bend 'neath the dear weight - That crushes this door; - For we know that the grave is the first step to Heaven, - And a birthright we have in the riches there given." - Heavily plod, - Highroad and sod, - With the cold corpse clod, - Whose soul is with God! - -What wonder if the evicted peasants of Ireland, made desperate by the -tyranny of the landlords, sometimes make "a law unto themselves," -and slay their oppressors! Rebellion proves manhood under such -circumstances. Instances of landlords being murdered by evicted tenants -are numerous. In the following sketch we have a vivid illustration of -this phase of Irish life:— - - "The moorland was wide, level, and black; black as night, if you - could suppose night condensed on the surface of the earth, and - that you could tread on solid darkness in the midst of day. The - day itself was fast dropping into night, although it was dreary - and gloomy at the best; for it was a November day. The moor, for - miles around, was treeless and houseless; devoid of vegetation, - except heather, which clad with its gloomy frieze coat the - shivering landscape. At a distance you could discern, through the - misty atmosphere, the outline of mountains apparently as bare - and stony as this wilderness, which they bounded. There were no - fields, no hedgerows, no marks of the hand of man, except the - nakedness itself, which was the work of man in past ages; when, - period after period, he had tramped over the scene with fire - and sword, and left all that could not fly before him, either - ashes to be scattered by the savage winds, or stems of trees, - and carcasses of men trodden into the swampy earth. As the Roman - historians said of other destroyers, 'They created solitude, and - called it peace.' That all this was the work of man, and not of - Nature, any one spot of this huge and howling wilderness could - testify, if you would only turn up its sable surface. In its - bosom lay thousands of ancient oaks and pines, black as ebony; - which told, by their gigantic bulk, that forests must have once - existed on this spot, as rich as the scene was now bleak. Nobler - things than trees lay buried there; but were, for the most part, - resolved into the substance of the inky earth. The dwellings of - men had left few or no traces, for they had been consumed in - flames; and the hearts that had loved, and suffered, and perished - beneath the hand of violence and insult, were no longer human - hearts, but slime. If a man were carried blindfold to that place, - and asked when his eyes were unbandaged where he was, he would - say—'Ireland!' - - "He would want no clue to the identity of the place, but the - scene before him. There is no heath like an Irish heath. There - is no desolation like an Irish desolation. Where Nature herself - has spread the expanse of a solitude, it is a cheerful solitude. - The air flows over it lovingly: the flowers nod and dance in - gladness; the soil breathes up a spirit of wild fragrance, which - communicates a buoyant sensation to the heart. You feel that you - tread on ground where the peace of God, and not the 'peace' of - man created in the merciless hurricane of war, has sojourned: - where the sun shone on creatures sporting on ground or on tree, - as the Divine Goodness of the Universe meant them to sport: where - the hunter disturbed alone the enjoyment of the lower animals by - his own boisterous joy: where the traveller sang as he went over - it, because he felt a spring of inexpressible music in his heart: - where the weary wayfarer sat beneath a bush, and blessed God, - though his limbs ached with travel, and his goal was far off. - In God's deserts dwells gladness; in man's deserts, death. A - melancholy smites you as you enter them. There is a darkness from - the past that envelopes your heart, and the moans and sighs of - ten-times perpetrated misery seem still to live in the very winds. - - "One shallow and widely spread stream struggled through the - moor; sometimes between masses of gray stone. Sedges and - the white-headed cotton-rush whistled on its margin, and on - island-like expanses that here and there rose above the surface - of its middle course. - - "I have said that there was no sign of life; but on one of those - gray stones stood a heron watching for prey. He had remained - straight, rigid, and motionless for hours. Probably his appetite - was appeased by his day's success among the trout of that dark - red-brown stream, which was coloured by the peat from which it - oozed. When he did move, he sprang up at once, stretched his - broad wings, and silent as the scene around him, made a circuit - in the air; rising higher as he went, with slow and solemn - flight. He had been startled by a sound. There was life in the - desert now. Two horsemen came galloping along a highway not far - distant, and the heron, continuing his grave gyrations, surveyed - them as he went. Had they been travellers over a plain of India, - an Austrian waste, or the pampas of South America, they could not - have been grimmer of aspect, or more thoroughly children of the - wild. They were Irish from head to foot. - - "They were mounted on two spare but by no means clumsy horses. - The creatures had marks of blood and breed that had been - introduced by the English to the country. They could claim, if - they knew it, lineage of Arabia. The one was a pure bay, the - other and lesser, was black; but both were lean as death, haggard - as famine. They were wet with the speed with which they had been - hurried along. The soil of the damp moorland, or of the field - in which, during the day, they had probably been drawing the - peasant's cart, still smeared their bodies, and their manes flew - as wildly and untrimmed as the sedge or the cotton-rush on the - wastes through which they careered. Their riders, wielding each - a heavy stick instead of a riding-whip, which they applied ever - and anon to the shoulders or flanks of their smoking animals, - were mounted on their bare backs, and guided them by halter - instead of bridle. They were a couple of the short frieze-coated, - knee-breeches and gray-stocking fellows who are as plentiful - on Irish soil as potatoes. From beneath their narrow-brimmed, - old, weather-beaten hats, streamed hair as unkemped as their - horses' manes. The Celtic physiognomy was distinctly marked—the - small and somewhat upturned nose; the black tint of skin; the - eye now looking gray, now black; the freckled cheek, and sandy - hair. Beard and whiskers covered half the face, and the short - square-shouldered bodies were bent forward with eager impatience, - as they thumped and kicked along their horses, muttering curses - as they went. - - "The heron, sailing on broad and seemingly slow vans, still kept - them in view. Anon, they reached a part of the moorland where - traces of human labour were visible. Black piles of peat stood on - the solitary ground, ready, after a summer's cutting and drying. - Presently patches of cultivation presented themselves; plots of - ground raised on beds, each a few feet wide, with intervening - trenches to carry off the boggy water, where potatoes had grown, - and small fields where grew more stalks of ragwort than grass, - inclosed by banks cast up and tipped here and there with a brier - or a stone. It was the husbandry of misery and indigence. The - ground had already been freshly manured by sea-weeds, but the - village—where was it? Blotches of burnt ground, scorched heaps - of rubbish, and fragments of blackened walls, alone were visible. - Garden-plots were trodden down, and their few bushes rent up, - or hung with tatters of rags. The two horsemen, as they hurried - by with gloomy visages, uttered no more than a single word: - 'Eviction!' - - "Further on, the ground heaved itself into a chaotic confusion. - Stony heaps swelled up here and there, naked, black, and barren: - the huge bones of the earth protruded themselves through her - skin. Shattered rocks arose, sprinkled with bushes, and smoke - curled up from what looked like mere heaps of rubbish, but which - were in reality human habitations. Long dry grass hissed and - rustled in the wind on their roofs, (which were sunk by-places, - as if falling in;) and pits of reeking filth seemed placed - exactly to prevent access to some of the low doors; while to - others, a few stepping-stones made that access only possible. - Here the two riders stopped, and hurriedly tying their steeds to - an elder-bush, disappeared in one of the cabins. - - "The heron slowly sailed on to the place of its regular roost. - Let us follow it. - - "Far different was this scene to those the bird had left. Lofty - trees darkened the steep slopes of a fine river. Rich meadows - lay at the feet of woods and stretched down to the stream. Herds - of cattle lay on them, chewing their cuds after the plentiful - grazing of the day. The white walls of a noble house peeped, in - the dusk of night, through the fertile timber which stood in - proud guardianship of the mansion; and broad winding walks gave - evidence of a place where nature and art had combined to form a - paradise. There were ample pleasure-grounds. Alas! the grounds - around the cabins over which the heron had so lately flown, might - be truly styled pain-grounds. - - "Within that home was assembled a happy family. There was the - father, a fine-looking man of forty. Proud you would have deemed - him, as he sate for a moment abstracted in his cushioned chair; - but a moment afterward, as a troop of children came bursting into - the room, his manner was instantly changed into one so pleasant, - so playful, and so overflowing with enjoyment, that you saw him - only as an amiable, glad, domestic man. The mother, a handsome - woman, was seated already at the tea-table; and, in another - minute, sounds of merry voices and childish laughter were mingled - with the jocose tones of the father, and the playful accents of - the mother; addressed, now to one, now to another of the youthful - group. - - "In due time the merriment was hushed, and the household - assembled for evening prayer. A numerous train of servants - assumed their accustomed places. The father read. He had - paused once or twice, and glanced with a stern and surprised - expression toward the group of domestics, for he heard sounds - that astonished him from one corner of the room near the door. - He went on—Remember the children of Edom, O Lord, in the day of - judgment, how they said, Down with it, down with it, even to the - ground. O daughter of Babylon, wasted with misery, yea, happy - shall he be who rewardeth thee, as thou hast served us!" - - "There was a burst of smothered sobs from the same corner, and - the master's eye flashed with a strange fire as he again darted a - glance toward the offender. The lady looked equally surprised, in - the same direction; then turned a meaning look on her husband—a - warm flush was succeeded by a paleness in her countenance, and - she cast down her eyes. The children wondered, but were still. - Once more the father's sonorous voice continued—'Give us this - day our daily bread, and forgive us our trespasses as we forgive - them that trespass against us.' Again the stifled sound was - repeated. The brow of the master darkened again—the mother - looked agitated; the children's wonder increased; the master - closed the book, and the servants, with a constrained silence, - retired from the room. - - "'What _can_ be the matter with old Dennis?' exclaimed the lady, - the moment that the door had closed on the household.—'Oh! what - _is_ amiss with poor old Dennis!' exclaimed the children. - - "'Some stupid folly or other,' said the father, morosely. 'Come! - away to bed, children. You can learn Dennis's troubles another - time.' The children would have lingered, but again the words, - 'Away with you!' in a tone which never needed repetition, were - decisive: they kissed their parents and withdrew. In a few - seconds the father rang the bell. 'Send Dennis Croggan here.' - - "The old man appeared. He was a little thin man, of not less - than seventy years of age, with white hair and a dark spare - countenance. He was one of those nondescript servants in a large - Irish house, whose duties are curiously miscellaneous. He had, - however, shown sufficient zeal and fidelity through a long life, - to secure a warm nook in the servants' hall for the remainder of - his days. - - "Dennis entered with an humble and timid air, as conscious that - he had deeply offended; and had to dread at least a severe - rebuke. He bowed profoundly to both the master and mistress. - - "'What is the meaning of your interruptions during the prayers, - Dennis?' demanded the master abruptly. 'Has any thing happened to - you?' - - "'No, sir.' - - "'Any thing amiss in your son's family?' - - "'No, your honour.' - - "The interrogator paused; a storm of passion seemed slowly - gathering within him. Presently he asked in a loud tone, 'What - does this mean? Was there no place to vent your nonsense in, but - in this room, and at prayers?' - - "Dennis was silent. He cast an imploring look at the master, then - at the mistress. - - "'What is the matter, good Dennis?' asked the lady, in a kind - tone. 'Compose yourself, and tell us. Something strange must have - happened to you.' - - "Dennis trembled violently; but he advanced a couple of paces, - seized the back of a chair as if to support him, and, after a - vain gasp or two, declared, as intelligibly as fear would permit, - that the prayer had overcome him. - - "'Nonsense, man!' exclaimed the master, with fury in the same - face, which was so lately beaming with joy on the children. - 'Nonsense! Speak out without more ado, or you shall rue it.' - - "Dennis looked to the mistress as if he would have implored her - intercession; but as she gave no sign of it, he was compelled to - speak; but in a brogue that would have been unintelligible to - English ears. We therefore translate it: - - "'I could not help thinking of the poor people at Rathbeg, when - the soldiers and police cried, "Down with them! down with them, - even to the ground!" and then the poor bit cabins came down all - in fire and smoke, amid the howls and cries of the poor creatures. - - "'Oh! it was a fearful sight, your honour—it was, indeed—to - see the poor women hugging their babies, and the houses where - they were born burning in the wind. It was dreadful to see the - old bedridden man lie on the wet ground among the few bits of - furniture, and groan to his gracious God above. Oh, your honour! - you never saw such a sight, or—you—sure a—it would never have - been done!' - - "Dennis seemed to let the last words out as if they were jerked - from him by a sudden shock. - - "The master, whose face had changed during this speech to a livid - hue of passion, his eyes blazing with rage, was in the act of - rushing on old Dennis, when he was held back by his wife, who - exclaimed, 'Oswald! be calm; let us hear what Dennis has to say. - Go on, Dennis, go on.' - - "The master stood still, breathing hard to overcome his rage. Old - Dennis, as if seeing only his own thoughts, went on: 'O, bless - your honour, if you had seen that poor frantic woman when the - back of the cabin fell and buried her infant, where she thought - she had laid it safe for a moment while she flew to part her - husband and a soldier who had struck the other children with the - flat of his sword, and bade them to troop off. Oh, your honour, - but it was a killing sight. It was that came over me in the - prayer, and I feared that we might be praying perdition on us - all, when we prayed about our trespasses. If the poor creatures - of Rathbeg should meet us, your honour, at Heaven's gate (I was - thinking) and say—These are the heathens that would not let us - have a poor hearth-stone in poor ould Ireland.—And that was all, - your honour, that made me misbehave so; I was just thinking of - that, and I could not help it.' - - "'Begone, you old fool!' exclaimed the master; and Dennis - disappeared with a bow and an alertness that would have done - credit to his earlier years. - - "There was a moment's silence after his exit. The lady turned to - her husband, and clasping his arm with her hands and looking into - his darkened countenance with a look of tenderest anxiety, said:— - - "'Dearest Oswald, let me, as I have so often done, once more - entreat that these dreadful evictions may cease. Surely there - must be some way to avert them and to set your property right, - without such violent measures.' - - "The stern proud man said, 'Then why, in the name of Heaven, - do you not reveal some other remedy? why do you not enlighten - all Ireland? why don't you instruct Government? The unhappy - wretches who have been swept away by force are no people, no - tenants of mine; they squatted themselves down, as a swarm of - locusts fix themselves while a green blade is left; they obstruct - all improvement; they will not till the ground themselves, nor - will they quit it to allow me to provide more industrious and - provident husbandmen to cultivate it. Land that teems with - fertility, and is shut out from hearing and bringing forth food - for man, is accursed. Those who have been evicted not only rob - me, but their more industrious fellows.' - - "'They will murder us,' said the wife, 'some day for these - things. They will—' - - "Her words were cut short suddenly by her husband starting, and - standing in a listening attitude. 'Wait a moment,' he said, with - a peculiar calmness, as if he had just got a fresh thought; and - his lady, who did not comprehend what was the cause, but hoped - that some better influence was touching him, unloosed her hands - from his arm. 'Wait just a moment,' he repeated, and stepped from - the room, opened the front door, and, without his hat, went out. - - "'He is intending to cool down his anger,' thought his wife; - 'he feels a longing for the freshness of the air,' But she had - not caught the sound which had startled his quicker, because - more excited ear; she had been too much engrossed by her own - intercession with him; it was a peculiar whine from the mastiff, - which was chained near the lodge-gate, that had arrested his - attention. He stepped out. The black clouds which overhung the - moor had broken, and the moon's light straggled between them. - - "The tall and haughty man stood erect in the breeze and listened. - Another moment-there was a shot, and he fell headlong upon the - broad steps on which he stood. His wife sprang with a piercing - shriek from the door and fell on his corpse. A crowd of servants - gathered about them, making wild lamentations and breathing vows - of vengeance. The murdered master and the wife were borne into - the house. - - "The heron soared from its lofty perch, and wheeled with - terrified wings through the night air. The servants armed - themselves, and, rushing furiously from the house, traversed the - surrounding masses of trees; fierce dogs were let loose, and - dashed frantically through the thickets: all was, however, too - late. The soaring heron saw gray figures, with blackened faces, - stealing away—often on their hands and knees—down the hollows - of the moorlands toward the village, where the two Irish horsemen - had, in the first dusk of that evening, tied their lean steeds - to the old elder bush. - - "Near the mansion no lurking assassin was to be found. Meanwhile - two servants, pistol in hand, on a couple of their master's - horses, scoured hill and dale. The heron, sailing solemnly on the - wind above, saw them halt in a little town. They thundered with - the butt-ends of their pistols on a door in the principal street; - over it there was a coffin-shaped board, displaying a painted - crown and the big-lettered words, 'POLICE STATION.' The mounted - servants shouted with might and main. A night-capped head issued - from a chamber casement with—'What is the matter?' - - "'Out with you, police! out with all your strength, and lose not - a moment. Mr. FitzGibbon, of Sporeen, is shot at his own door.' - - "The casement was hastily clapped to, and the two horsemen - galloped forward up the long, broad street, now flooded with the - moon's light. Heads full of terror were thrust from upper windows - to inquire the cause of that rapid galloping, but ever too late. - The two men held their course up a steep hill outside of the - town, where stood a vast building overlooking the whole place; it - was the barracks. Here the alarm was also given. - - "In less than an hour a mounted troop of police in olive-green - costume, with pistols at holster, sword by side, and carbine - on the arm, were trotting briskly out of town, accompanied - by the two messengers, whom they plied with eager questions. - These answered, and sundry imprecations vented, the whole party - increased their speed, and went on, mile after mile, by hedgerow - and open moorland, talking as they went. - - "Before they reached the house of Sporeen, and near the village - where the two Irish horsemen had stopped the evening before, - they halted and formed themselves into more orderly array. A - narrow gully was before them on the road, hemmed in on each - side by rocky steeps, here and there overhung with bushes. The - commandant bade them be on their guard, for there might be danger - there. He was right; for the moment they began to trot through - the pass, the flash and rattle of firearms from the thickets - above saluted them, followed by a wild yell. In a second, - several of their number lay dead or dying in the road. The fire - was returned promptly by the police, but it was at random; for, - although another discharge and another howl announced that the - enemy were still there, no one could be seen. The head of the - police commanded his troops to make a dash through the pass; for - there was no scaling the heights from this side, the assailants - having warily posted themselves there, because at the foot of - the eminence were stretched on either hand impassable bogs. The - troop dashed forward, firing their pistols as they went, but were - met by such deadly discharges of firearms as threw them into - confusion, killed and wounded several of their horses, and made - them hastily retreat. - - "There was nothing for it but to await the arrival of the - cavalry; and it was not long before the clatter of horses' hoofs - and the ringing of sabres were heard on the road. On coming - up, the troop of cavalry, firing to the right and left on the - hillsides, dashed forward, and, in the same instant, cleared the - gully in safety, the police having kept their side of the pass. - In fact, not a single shot was returned, the arrival of this - strong force having warned the insurgents to decamp. The cavalry, - in full charge, ascended the hills to their summits. Not a foe - was to be seen, except one or two dying men, who were discovered - by their groans. - - "The moon had been for a time quenched in a dense mass of clouds, - which now were blown aside by a keen and cutting wind. The heron, - soaring over the desert, could now see gray-coated men flying - in different directions to the shelter of the neighbouring - hills. The next day he was startled from his dreamy reveries - near the moorland stream, by the shouts and galloping of mingled - police and soldiers, as they gave chase to a couple of haggard, - bare-headed, and panting peasants. These were soon captured, and - at once recognised as belonging to the evicted inhabitants of the - recently deserted village. - - "Since then years have rolled on. The heron, who had been - startled from his quiet haunts by these things, was still - dwelling on the lofty tree with his kindred, by the hall of - Sporeen. He had reared family after family in that airy lodgment, - as spring after spring came round; but no family, after that - fatal time, had ever tenanted the mansion. The widow and - children had fled from it so soon as Mr. FitzGibbon had been laid - in the grave. The nettle and dock flourished over the scorched - ruins of the village of Rathbeg; dank moss and wild grass tangled - the proud drives and walks of Sporeen. All the woodland rides and - pleasure-grounds lay obstructed with briers; and young trees in - time grew luxuriantly where once the roller in its rounds could - not crush a weed; the nimble frolics of the squirrel were now the - only merry things where formerly the feet of lovely children had - sprung with elastic joy. - - "The curse of Ireland was on the place. Landlord and tenant, - gentleman and peasant, each with the roots and the shoots of many - virtues in their hearts, thrown into a false position by the - mutual injuries of ages, had wreaked on each other the miseries - sown broadcast by their ancestors. Beneath this foul spell men - who would, in any other circumstances, have been the happiest and - the noblest of mankind, became tyrants; and peasants, who would - have glowed with grateful affection toward them, exulted in being - their assassins. As the traveller rode past the decaying hall, - the gloomy woods, and waste black moorlands of Sporeen, he read - the riddle of Ireland's fate, and asked himself when an Œdipus - would arise to solve it." - -A large number of the peasantry of Connemara, a rocky and romantic -region, are among the most recent evictions. - - "These hardy mountaineers, whose lives, and the lives of their - fathers and great-grandfathers have been spent in reclaiming - the barren hills where their hard lot has been cast, were the - victims of a series of oppressions unparalleled in the annals - of Irish misrule. They were thickly planted over the rocky - surface of Connemara for political purposes. In the days of - the 40_s._ freeholder, they were driven to the hustings like - a flock of sheep, to register not alone one vote, but in many - instances three or four votes each; and it was no uncommon thing - to see those unfortunate serfs evicted from their holdings when - an election had terminated— not that they refused to vote - according to the wish of their landlords, but because they did - not go far enough in the sin of perjury and the diabolical crime - of impersonation. When they ceased to possess any political - importance, they were cast away like broken tools. It was no - uncommon thing, in the wilds of Connemara, to see the peasantry, - after an election, coming before the Catholic Archbishop, when - holding a visitation of his diocese, to proclaim openly the crime - of impersonation which their landlords compelled them to commit, - and implore forgiveness for such. Of this fact we have in the - town of Galway more than one living witness; so that, while every - thing was done, with few exceptions, to demoralize the peasantry - of Connemara, and plant in their souls the germs of that slavery - which is so destructive to the growth of industry, enterprise, - or manly exertion—no compassion for their wants was ever - evinced—no allowance for their poverty and inability to meet the - rack-renting demands of their landlords was ever made." - -Perhaps, it requires no Œdipus to tell what will be the future of the -Irish nation, if the present system of slavery is maintained by their -English conquerors. If they do not cease to exist as a people, they -will continue to quaff the dark waters of sorrow, and to pay a price, -terrible to think of, for the mere privilege of existence. - -During the famine of 1847, the heartlessness of many Irish landlords -was manifested by their utter indifference to the multitudes starving -around their well-supplied mansions. At that period, the Rev. A. King, -of Cork, wrote to the Southern Reporter as follows:— - - "The town and the surrounding country for many miles are - possessed by twenty-six proprietors, whose respective yearly - incomes vary from one hundred pounds, or less, to several - thousands. They had all been respectfully informed of the - miserable condition of the people, and solicited to give relief. - Seventeen of the number had not the politeness to answer the - letters of the committee, four had written to say they would not - contribute, and the remaining five had given a miserable fraction - of what they ought to have contributed. My first donation from - a small portion of a small relief fund, received from English - strangers, exceeded the aggregate contributions of six-and-twenty - landed proprietors, on whose properties human beings were - perishing from famine, filth, and disease, amid circumstances of - wretchedness appalling to humanity and disgraceful to civilized - men! I believe it my sacred duty to gibbet this atrocity in - the press, and to call on benevolent persons to loathe it as a - monster crime. Twenty-one owners of property, on which scores, - nay hundreds, of their fellow-creatures are dying of hunger, give - nothing to save their lives! Are they not virtually guilty of - wholesale murder? I ask not what human law may decide upon their - acts, but in the name of Christianity I arraign them as guilty of - treason against the rights of humanity and the laws of God!" - -It is to escape the responsibility mentioned by Mr. King, as well as -to avoid the payment of poor-rates, that the landlords resort to the -desolating process of eviction. To show the destructive nature of the -tyrannical system that has so long prevailed in Ireland, we will take -an abstract of the census of 1841 and 1851. - - 1841. 1851. - - Houses: Inhabited 1,328,839 1,047,935 - " Uninhabited, built 52,203 65,159 - " " building 3,318 2,113 - — — - Total 1,384,360 1,115,207 - - Families 1,472,287 1,207,002 - - Persons: Males 4,019,576 3,176,727 - " Females 4,155,548 3,339,067 - — — - Total 8,175,124 6,515,794 - - Population in 1841 8,175,124 - " 1851 6,515,794 - — - Decrease 1,659,330 - - Or, at the rate of 20 per cent. - - Population in 1821 6,801,827 - " 1831 7,767,401 - " 1841 8,175,124 - " 1851 6,515,794 - - Or, 286,030 souls fewer than in 1821, thirty years ago. - - "We shall impress the disastrous importance of the reduction in - the number of the people on our readers, by placing before them a - brief account of the previous progress of the population. There - is good reason to suppose, that, prior to the middle of the last - century, the people continually, though slowly, increased; but - from that time something like authentic but imperfect records - give the following as their numbers at successive periods:— - - 1754 2,372,634 - 1767 2,544,276 Increase per cent. 7·2 - 1777 2,690,556 " 5·7 - 1785 2,845,932 " 5·8 - 1805 5,359,456 " 84·0 - 1813 5,937,858 " 10·8 - 1821 6,801,829 " 14·6 - 1831 7,767,401 " 14·9 - 1841 8,175,124 " 5·3 - 1851 6,515,794 Decrease 20·0 - - "Though there are some discrepancies in these figures, and - probably the number assigned to 1785 is too small, and that - assigned to 1805 too large, they testify uniformly to a continual - increase of the people for eighty-seven years, from 1754 to 1841. - Now, for the first time in nearly a century, a complete change - has set in, and the population has decreased in the last ten - years 20 per cent. It is 1,659,330 less than in 1841, and less by - 286,033 than in 1821. - - "But this is not quite all. The census of 1851 was taken 68 - days earlier than the census of 1841; and it is obvious, if the - same rate of decrease continued through those 68 days, as has - prevailed on the average through the ten years, that the whole - amount of decrease would be so much greater. Sixty-eight days is - about the 54th part of ten years—say the 50th part; and the 50th - part of the deficiency is 33,000 odd—say 30,000. We must add - 30,000, therefore, to the 1,659,330, making 1,689,330, to get the - true amount of the diminution of the people in ten years. - - "Instead of the population increasing in a healthy manner, - implying an increase in marriages, in families, and in all the - affections connected with them, and implying an increase in - general prosperity, as for nearly a century before, and now - amounting, as we might expect, to 8,600,000, it is 2,000,000 - less. This is a disastrous change in the life of the Irish. At - this downward rate, decreasing 20 per cent. in ten years, five - such periods would suffice to exterminate the whole population - more effectually than the Indians have been exterminated from - North America. Fifty years of this new career would annihilate - the whole population of Ireland, and turn the land into an - uninhabited waste. This is a terrible reverse in the condition of - a people, and is the more remarkable because in the same period - the population of Great Britain has increased 12 per cent., and - because there is no other example of a similar decay in any part - of Europe in the same time, throughout which the population has - continued to increase, though not everywhere equally, nor so fast - as in Great Britain. Indeed, it may be doubted whether the annals - of mankind can supply, in a season of peace—when no earthquakes - have toppled down cities, no volcanoes have buried them beneath - their ashes, and no inroads of the ocean have occurred—such - wholesale diminution of the population and desolation of the - country. - - "The inhabited houses in Ireland have decreased from 1,328,839 - in 1841 to 1,047,735 in 1851, or 281,104, (21·2 per cent.,) and - consequently more than the population, who are now worse lodged - and more crowded in relation to houses than they were in 1841. - As the uninhabited houses have increased only 12,951, no less - than 268,153 houses must have been destroyed in the ten years. - That informs us of the extent of the 'clearances' of which we - have heard so much of late; and the 1,659,300 people less in the - country is an index to the number of human beings who inhabited - the houses destroyed. We must remember, too, that within the - period a number of union workhouses have been built in Ireland, - capable of accommodating 308,885 persons, and that, besides the - actual diminution of the number of the people, there has been a - change in their habits, about 300,000 having become denizens of - workhouses, who, prior to 1841, lived in their own separate huts. - With distress and destruction pauperism has also increased. - - "The decrease has not been equal for the males and females; the - numbers were as follows.— - - 1841. 1851. - - Males 4,019,576 3,176,124 Decrease 20·9 per cent. - Females 4,155,548 3,336,067 " 29·6 " - - "The females now exceed the males by 162,943, or 2 per cent. on - the whole population. It is not, however, that the mortality has - been greater among the males than the females, but that more of - the former than of the latter have escaped from the desolation. - - "Another important feature of the returns is the increase of - the town population:—Dublin, 22,124, or 9 per cent.; Belfast, - 24,352, or 32 per cent.; Galway, 7422, or 43 per cent.; Cork, - 5765, or 7 per cent. Altogether, the town population has - increased 71,928, or nearly 1 per cent., every town except - Londonderry displaying the same feature; and that increase makes - the decrease of the rural population still more striking. The - whole decrease is of the agricultural classes: Mr. O'Connell's - 'finest pisantry' are the sufferers." - -The London Illustrated News, in an article upon the census, says— - - "The causes of the decay of the people, subordinate to - inefficient employment and to wanting commerce and manufactures, - are obviously great mortality, caused by the destruction of the - potatoes and the consequent want of food, the clearance system, - and emigration. From the retarded increase of the population - between 1831 and 1841—only 5·3 per cent., while in the previous - ten years it had been nearly 15 per cent.—it may be inferred - that the growth of the population was coming to a stand-still - before 1841, and that the late calamities only brought it down to - its means of continued subsistence, according to the distribution - of property and the occupations of the people. The potato rot, - in 1846, was a somewhat severer loss of that root than had - before fallen on the Irish, who have suffered occasionally from - famines ever since their history began; and it fell so heavily - on them then, because they were previously very much and very - generally impoverished. Thousands, and even millions, of them - subsisted almost exclusively on lumpers, the very worst kind - of potatoes, and were reduced in health and strength when they - were overtaken by the dearth of 1846. The general smallness of - their consumption, and total abstinence from the use of tax - paying articles, is made painfully apparent by the decrease of - the population of Ireland having had no sensible influence in - reducing the revenue. They were half starved while alive. Another - remarkable fact which we must notice is, that, while the Irish - population have thus been going to decay, the imports and exports - of the empire have increased in a much more rapid ratio than the - population of Great Britain. For them, therefore, exclusively, - is the trade of the empire carried on, and the Irish who have - been swept away, without lessening the imports and exports, have - had no share in our commerce. It is from these facts apparent, - that, while they have gone to decay, the population of Great - Britain have increased their well-being and their enjoyments - much more than their numbers. We need not remind our readers of - the dreadful sufferings of the Irish in the years 1847, 1848, - and 1849; for the accounts we then published of them were too - melancholy to be forgotten. As an illustration, we may observe - that the Irish Poor-law Commissioners, in their fourth report, - dated May 5, 1851, boast that the 'worst evils of the famine, - such as the occurrence of _deaths by the wayside_, a high rate of - mortality in the workhouses, and the prevalence of dangerous and - contagious diseases in or out of the workhouse, have undergone - a very material abatement.' There have been, then, numerous - deaths by the wayside, alarming contagious diseases, and great - mortality in the workhouses." - -The Poor-law Commissioners kept a most mysterious silence during the -worst period of the famine; and, it was only when the horrors of that -time were known to the whole civilized world that they reported the -"abatement of the evils." Perhaps, they had become so accustomed to -witnessing misery in Ireland that even the famine years did not startle -them into making a humane appeal to the British government upon behalf -of the sufferers. - -The Illustrated News, in the same article we have quoted above, says, -quite sensibly, but with scarcely a due appreciation of the causes of -Ireland's decay— - - "The decline of the population has been greatest in Connaught; - now the Commissioners tell us that in 1847 the maximum rate of - mortality in the workhouses of that province was 43.6 per week - in a thousand persons, so that in about 23 weeks at this rate - the whole 1000 would be dead. The maximum rate of mortality in - all the workhouses in that year was 25 per 1000 weekly, or the - whole 1000 would die in something more than 39 weeks. That was - surely a very frightful mortality. It took place among that part - of the population for which room was found in the workhouses; - and among the population out of the workhouses perishing by the - wayside, the mortality must have been still more frightful. We - are happy to believe, on the assurance of the commissioners, that - matters are now improved, that workhouse accommodation is to - be had—with one exception, Kilrush—for all who need it; that - the expense of keeping the poor is diminished; that contagious - disorders are less frequent, and that the rate of mortality has - much declined. But the statement that such improvements have - taken place, implies the greatness of the past sufferings. There - can be no doubt, therefore, that the decay of the population - has partly arisen from increased mortality on the one hand, and - from decreasing marriages and decreasing births on the other. - Now that the Irish have a poor-law fairly administered, we may - expect that, in future, such terrible scenes as were witnessed - in 1847-49 will not again occur. But the state which authorized - the landlords, by a law, to clear their estates of the peasantry, - as if they were vermin, destroying, as we have seen, 268,153 - dwellings, without having previously imposed on those landlords - the obligation of providing for the people, did a great wrong, - and the decay of the people now testifies against it. - - "With reference to emigration—the least objectionable mode - of getting rid of a population—there are no correct returns - kept of the number of Irish who emigrate, because a great part - of them go from Liverpool, and are set down in the returns as - emigrants from England. It is supposed by those best acquainted - with the subject, that more than nine-tenths of the emigrants - from Liverpool are Irish. Taking that proportion, therefore, and - adding it to the emigrants who proceed direct from Ireland, the - number of Irish emigrants from 1842 to the present year was— - - 1843 39,549 │ 1847 214,970 - 1844 55,910 │ 1848 177,720 - 1845 76,523 │ 1849 208,759 - 1846 106,767 │ 1850 207,853 - — │ — - Total, 4 years, 278,749 │ Total, 4 years, 809,302 - Total, 8 years 1,088,051. - - "If we add 70,000 for the two first years of the decennial period - not included in the return, we shall have 1,158,051 as the total - emigration of the ten years. It was probably more than that—it - could not well have been less. To this we must add the number of - Irish who came to England and Scotland, of whom no account is - kept. If we put them down at 30,000 a year, we shall have for - the ten years 300,000; or the total expatriation of the Irish in - the ten years may be assumed at 1,458,000, or say 1,500,000. At - first sight this appears a somewhat soothing explanation of the - decline of the Irish population; but, on being closely examined, - it diminishes the evil very little in one sense, and threatens to - enhance it in another. - - "So far as national strength is concerned, it is of no - consequence whether the population die out or emigrate to another - state, except that, if the other state be a rival or an enemy, it - may be worse for the parent state that the population emigrate - than be annihilated. In truth, the Irish population in the United - States, driven away formerly by persecution, have imbittered the - feelings of the public there against England. Emigration is only - very beneficial, therefore, when it makes room for one at home - for every one removed. Such is the emigration from England to her - colonies or to the United States, with which she has intimate - trade relations; but such is not the case with the emigration - from Ireland, for there we find a frightful void. No one fills - the emigrant's place. He flies from the country because he cannot - live in it; and being comparatively energetic, we may infer - that few others can. In the ordinary course, had the 1,500,000 - expatriated people remained, nearly one-third of them would have - died in the ten years; they would have increased the terrible - mortality, and, without much adding to the present number of the - people, would have added to the long black catalogue of death. - - "For the emigrants themselves removal is a great evil, a mere - flying from destruction. The Poor-law Commissioners state that - the number of pauper emigrants sent from Ireland in 1850 was - about 1800, or less than one per cent. of the whole emigration; - the bulk of the emigrants were not paupers, but persons of some - means as well as of some energy. They were among the best of the - population, and they carried off capital with them—leaving the - decrepit, the worn-out, and the feeble behind them; the mature - and the vigorous, the seed of future generations, went out of - the land, and took with them the means of future increase. We - doubt, therefore, whether such an emigration as that from Ireland - within the last four years will not be more fatal to its future - prosperity than had the emigrants swelled the mortality at - home. All the circumstances now enumerated tend to establish the - conclusion, that, for the state, and for the people who remain - behind, it is of very little consequence whether a loss of - population, such as that in Ireland, be caused by an excessive - mortality or excessive emigration. - - "To the emigrants themselves, after they have braved the pain of - the separation and the difficulties of the voyage, and after they - are established in a better home, the difference is very great; - but it may happen that, to Ireland as a state, their success - abroad will be rather dangerous than beneficial. On the whole, - emigration does not account for the decrease of people; and if it - did account for it, would not afford us the least consolation." - -In the above article, the Kilrush Union is mentioned as an exception -to the general improvement in Ireland, in respect to workhouse -accommodation. Mr. Sidney Godolphin Osborne, the able and humane -correspondent of the London Times, can enlighten us in regard to the -treatment of the poor of Kilrush in 1851. - - "I am sorry to be compelled again to call public attention to - the state of things in the above ill-fated union. I do not - dispute the interest which must attach to the transactions of the - Encumbered Estates Court, the question of the so-called Godless - Colleges, the campaign now commencing against the national - schools, and the storm very naturally arising against the Papal - Aggression Bill, in a country so Catholic as Ireland. But I must - claim some interest upon the part of the British public on the - question of life and death now cruelly working out in the West of - Ireland. - - "The accommodation for paupers in the Kilrush union-houses was, - in the three weeks ending the 8th, 15th, and 22d of this month, - calculated for 4654; in the week ending the 8th of March there - were 5005 inmates, 56 deaths!—in the week ending the 15th of - March, 4980 inmates, 68 deaths!—in the week ending the 22d of - March, 4868 inmates, 79 deaths! That is to say, _there were 203 - deaths in 21 days_. I last week called your attention to the - fact of the over-crowding and the improper feeding of the poor - creatures in these houses, as proved by a report made by the - medical officer on the 1st of February, repeated on the 22d, - and, at the time of my letter, evidently unheeded. Behold the - result—79 deaths in a population of under 5000 in one week! I - have, I regret to say, besides these returns, a large mass of - returns of deaths outside the house, evidently the result of - starvation; on some, coroners' juries have admitted it to be so. - - "Eye-witnesses of the highest respectability, as well as my own - paid agent, report to me the state of the town and neighbourhood - of the workhouse on the admission-days in characters quite - horrifying: between 100 and 200 poor, half-starved, almost naked - creatures may be seen by the roadside, under the market-house—in - short, wherever the famished, the houseless, and the cold can get - for a night's shelter. Many have come twelve Irish miles to seek - relief, and then have been refused, though their sunken eyes and - projecting bones write the words 'destitute' and 'starving' in - language even the most callous believers in pauper cunning could - not misunderstand. I will defy contradiction to the fact, that - the business of the admission-days is conducted in a way which - forbids common justice to the applicants; it is a mere mockery - to call the scene of indecent hurry and noisy strife between - guardians, officers, and paupers, which occupies the few hours - weekly given to this work, a hearing of applicants. - - "I have before me some particulars of a visit of inspection paid - to these houses a short time since by a gentleman whose position - and whose motives are above all cavil for respectability and - integrity; I have a mass of evidence, voluntarily given me, from - sources on which I can place implicit confidence, all tending - to one and the same point. The mortality so fast increasing can - only be ascribed to the insufficiency of the out-relief given to - the destitute, and the crowding and improper diet of the in-door - paupers. From the published statement of the half-year ending - September 29, 1850, signed 'C. M. Vandeleur, chairman,' I find - there were 1014 deaths in that said half-year. Average weekly - cost per head—food, 11¼_d._; clothing, 2_d._ I shall look - with anxiety for the return of the half-year just ended; it will - be a curious document, as emanating from a board the chairman - of which has just trumpeted in your columns with regard to this - union, 'that the lands, with little exception, are well occupied, - and a spirit of industry visible among all classes.' It will at - least prove a more than usual occupation of burying-land, and a - spirit of increased energy in the grave-digging class. - - "With regard to the diet of the old and infirm, I can conceive it - possible that since the publication of my last letter there may - be some improvement, though I am not yet aware of it. I am now - prepared to challenge all contradiction to the fact that the diet - has been not only short of what it ought to be by the prescribed - dietary, but, in the case of the bread, it has frequently been - unfit for human food—such as very old or very young people could - only touch under the pressure of famine, and could not, under any - circumstances, sustain health upon. - - "Let the authorities investigate the deaths of the last six - weeks, taking the cause of death from the medical officers, and - how soon after admission each individual died; they will then, - with me, cease to wonder that the poor creatures who come in - starving should so soon sink, when the sanatory condition of the - law's asylum is just that which would tell most severely even - on the most healthy. I admit, sir, that Kilrush market may be - well supplied with cheap food, but the evicted peasantry have - no money, and vendors do not give. I admit that the season for - the growth of nettles, and cornkale, and other weeds, the of - late years normal food of these poor creatures, has not yet set - in, and this I do not deny is all against them. I leave to the - British public the forming any conclusion they like from this - admission. - - "What I now contend for is this—that in a particular part of - Great Britain there are certain workhouses, asylums for the - destitute, supervised by salaried inspectors, directly under the - cognizance of the Government, in which the crowding of the sick - is most shameful, the diet equally so. The mortality for the - weeks ending January 25 to March 22—484, upon a population which - in those weeks never exceeded 5200 souls! I believe these to be - facts which cannot be disputed, and I claim on them the immediate - interference of the Government, and the more especially as the - chairman of this union makes a public favourable comparison - between it and the union of Ennistymon, in the same county. I - am myself prepared, on very short notice, to go over at my own - expense with any person of respectability from this country, - appointed by Government, and I have no doubt we shall prove that - I have, if any thing, understated matters; if so, am I wrong, - sir, in saying, that such a state of things, within a twenty - hours' journey from London, is in a sad and shameful contrast - to the expected doings of the 'World's Fair' on English ground? - _When, the other day, I looked on the Crystal Palace, and thought - of Kilrush workhouse, as I have seen it and now know it to be, - I confess I felt, as a Christian and the subject of a Christian - Government, utter disgust._ Again, sir, I thank you from my heart - for your indulgence to these my cries for justice for Ireland." - -Alas! poor country, where each hour teems with a new grievance; where -tyranny is so much a custom that the very institutions which have -charity written upon their front are turned to dangerous pest-houses, -slaving shops, or tombs; where to toil even to extremity is to be -rewarded with semi-starvation in styes, and, perhaps, by sudden -eviction, and a grave by the wayside; where to entertain certain -religious convictions is to invite the whips of persecution, and -the particular tyranny of the landlord who adheres to the Church of -England; where to speak the faith of the heart, the opinions of the -mind, is to sacrifice the food doled out by the serf-holders; where to -live is to be considered a glorious mercy—to hope, something unfit for -common men. - -The struggles and achievements of Con McNale, as related in "Household -Words," give us a tolerably truthful representation of the milder -features of Irish peasant life. Con had better luck than most of his -class, and knew better how to improve it. Yet the circumstances of his -existence were certainly not those of a freeman:— - - "My father," said he, "lived under ould Squire Kilkelly, an' - for awhile tinded his cattle; but the Squire's gone out iv this - part iv the counthry, to Australia or some furrin part, an' the - mentioned house (mansion-house) an' the fine property was sould, - so it was, for little or nothin', for the fightin' was over in - furrin parts; Boney was put down, an' there was no price for corn - or cattle, an' a jontleman from Scotland came an' bought the - istate. We were warned by the new man to go, for he tuk in his - own hand all the in-land about the domain, bein' a grate farmer. - He put nobody in our little place, but pulled it down, an' he guv - father a five-guinea note, but my father was ould an' not able to - face the world agin, an' he went to the town an' tuk a room—a - poor, dirty, choky place it was for him, myself, and sisther to - live in. The neighbours were very kind an' good though. Sister - Bridget got a place wid a farmer hereabouts, an' I tuk the world - on my own showlders. I had nothin' at all but the rags I stud up - in, an' they were bad enuf. Poor Biddy got a shillin' advanced iv - her wages that her masther was to giv her. She guv it me, for I - was bent on goin' toward Belfast to look for work. All along the - road I axed at every place; they could giv it me, but to no good; - except when I axed, they'd giv me a bowl iv broth, or a piece iv - bacon, or an oaten bannock, so that I had my shillin' to the fore - when I got to Belfast. - - "Here the heart was near lavin' me all out intirely. I went - wandtherin' down to the quay among the ships, and what should - there be but a ship goin' to Scotland that very night wid pigs. - In throth it was fun to see the sailors at cross-purposes wid - 'em, for they didn't know the natur iv the bastes. I did. I - knew how to coax 'em. I set to an' I deludhered an' coaxed the - pigs, an' by pullin' them by the tail, knowing that if they took - a fancy I wished to pull 'em back out of the ship they'd run - might an' main into her, and so they did. Well, the sailors were - mightily divarted, an' when the pigs was aboord I wint down to - the place; an' the short iv it is that in three days I was in - Glasgow town, an' the captain an' the sailors subscribed up tin - shillins an' guv it into my hand. Well, I bought a raping-hook, - an' away I trudged till I got quite an' clane into the counthry, - an' the corn was here and there fit to cut. At last I goes an' ax - a farmer for work. He thought I was too wake to be paid by the - day, but one field havin' one corner fit to cut, an' the next - not ready, 'Paddy,' says he, 'you may begin in that corner, an' - I'll pay yees by the work yees do,' an' he guv me my breakfast - an' a pint of beer. Well, I never quit that masther the whole - harvest, an' when the raping was over I had four goolden guineas - to carry home, besides that I was as sthrong as a lion. Yees - would wonder how glad the sailors was to see me back agin, an' - ne'er a farthin' would they take back iv their money, but tuk me - over agin to Belfast, givin' me the hoighth of good thratemint of - all kinds. I did not stay an hour in Belfast, but tuk to the road - to look afther the ould man an' little Biddy. Well, sorrows the - tidins I got. The ould man had died, an' the grief an' disthress - of poor little Biddy had even touched her head a little. The - dacent people where she was, may the Lord reward 'em, though they - found little use in her, kep her, hoping I would be able to come - home an' keep her myself, an' so I was. I brought her away wid - me, an' the sight iv me put new life in her. I was set upon not - being idle, an' I'll tell yees what I did next. - - "When I was little _bouchaleen_ iv a boy I used to be ahead on - the mountain face, an' 'twas often I sheltered myself behind - them gray rocks that's at the gable iv my house; an' somehow it - came into my head that the new Squire, being a grate man for - improvin' might let me try to brake in a bit iv land there; an' - so I goes off to him, an' one iv the sarvints bein' a sort iv - cousin iv mine, I got to spake to the Squire, an' behould yees - he guv me lave at onst. Well, there's no time like the prisint, - an' as I passed out iv the back yard of the mentioned (mansion) - house, I sees the sawyers cutting some Norway firs that had been - blown down by the storm, an' I tells the sawyers that I had got - lave to brake in a bit iv land in the mountains, an' what would - some pieces iv fir cost. They says they must see what kind of - pieces they was that I wished for; an' no sooner had I set about - looking 'em through than the Squire himself comes ridin' out of - the stable-yard, an' says he at onst, 'McNale,' says he, 'you may - have a load iv cuttins to build your cabin, or two if you need - it.' 'The Heavens be your honour's bed,' says I, an' I wint off - to the room where I an' Biddy lived, not knowin' if I was on my - head or my heels. Next day, before sunrise, I was up here, five - miles up the face of Slieve-dan, with a spade in my fist, an' - I looked roun' for the most shiltered spot I could sit my eyes - an. Here I saw, where the house an' yard are stan'in', a plot - iv about an acre to the south iv that tall ridge of rocks, well - sheltered from the blast from the north an' from the aste, an' - it was about sunrise an' a fine morning in October that I tuk - up the first spadeful. There was a spring then drippin' down - the face iv the rocks, an' I saw at once that it would make - the cabin completely damp, an' the land about mighty sour an' - water-_slain_; so I determined to do what I saw done in Scotland. - I sunk a deep drain right under the rock to run all along the - back iv the cabin, an' workin' that day all alone by myself, I - did a grate dale iv it. At night it was close upon dark when I - started to go home, so I hid my spade in the heath an' trudged - off. The next morning I bargained with a farmer to bring me up a - load iv fir cuttins from the Squire's, an' by the evenin' they - were thrown down within a quarter iv a mile iv my place, for - there was no road to it then, an' I had to carry 'em myself for - the remainder of the way. This occupied me till near nightfall; - but I remained that night till I placed two upright posts of fir, - one at each corner iv the front iv the cabin. - - "I was detarmined to get the cabin finished as quickly as - possible, that I might be able to live upon the spot, for much - time was lost in goin' and comin'. The next day I was up betimes, - an' finding a track iv stiff blue clay, I cut a multitude of - thick square sods iv it, an' having set up two more posts at - the remainin' two corners iv the cabin, I laid four rows iv one - gable, rising it about three feet high. Havin' laid the rows, I - sharpind three or four straight pine branches, an' druv them down - through the sods into the earth, to pin the wall in its place. - Next day I had a whole gable up, each three rows iv sods pinned - through to the three benathe. In about eight days I had put up - the four walls, makin' a door an' two windows; an' now my outlay - began, for I had to pay a thatcher to put on the sthraw an' to - assist me in risin' the rafthers. In another week it was covered - in, an' it was a pride to see it with the new thatch an' a wicker - chimbly daubed with clay, like a pallis undernathe the rock. I - now got some turf that those who had cut 'em had not removed, an' - they sould 'em for a thrifle, an' I made a grate fire an' slept - on the flure of my own house that night. Next day I got another - load iv fir brought to make the partitions in the winter, an' in - a day or two after I had got the inside so dhry that I was able - to bring poor Biddy to live there for good and all. The Heavens - be praised, there was not a shower iv rain fell from the time I - began the cabin till I ended it, an' when the rain did fall, not - a drop came through—all was carried off by my dhrain into the - little river before yees. - - "The moment I was settled in the house I comminced dhraining - about an acre iv bog in front, an' the very first winter I sowed - a shillin's worth of cabbidge seed, an' sold in the spring a - pound's worth of little cabbidge plants for the gardins in the - town below. When spring came, noticin' how the early-planted - praties did the best, I planted my cabbidge ground with praties, - an' I had a noble crap, while the ground was next year fit for - the corn. In the mane time, every winther I tuk in more and more - ground, an' in summer I cut my turf for fewel, where the cuttins - could answer in winther for a dhrain; an' findin' how good the - turf were, I got a little powney an' carried 'em to the town to - sell, when I was able to buy lime in exchange an' put it on my - bog, so as to make it produce double. As things went on I got - assistance, an' when I marrid, my wife had two cows that guv me a - grate lift. - - "I was always thought to be a handy boy, an' I could do a turn - of mason-work with any man not riglarly bred to it; so I took - one of my loads of lime, an' instead of puttin' it on the land, - I made it into morthar—and indeed the stones being no ways - scarce, I set to an' built a little kiln, like as I had seen down - the counthry. I could then burn my own lime, an' the limestone - were near to my hand, too many iv 'em. While all this was goin' - on, I had riz an' sould a good dale iv oats and praties, an' - every summer I found ready sale for my turf in the town from one - jontleman that I always charged at an even rate, year by year. - I got the help of a stout boy, a cousin iv my own, who was glad - iv a shilter; an' when the childher were ould enough, I got some - young cattle that could graze upon the mountain in places where - no other use could be made iv the land, and set the gossoons to - herd 'em. - - "There was one bit iv ground nigh han' to the cabin that puzzled - me intirely. It was very poor and sandy, an' little better than - a rabbit burrow; an' telling the Squire's Scotch steward iv it, - he bade me thry some flax; an' sure enuf, so I did, an' a fine - crap iv flax I had as you might wish to see; an' the stame-mills - being beginnin' in the counthry at that time, I sould my flax - for a very good price, my wife having dhried it, beetled it, an' - scutched it with her own two hands. - - "I should have said before that the Squire himself came up here - with a lot iv fine ladies and jontlemen to see what I had done; - an' you never in your life seed a man so well plased as he was, - an' a mimber of Parlimint from Scotland was with him, an' he - tould me I was a credit to ould Ireland; an' sure didn't Father - Connor read upon the papers, how he tould the whole story in - the Parlimint house before all the lords an' quality. But faix, - he didn't forgit me; for a month or two after he was here, an' - it coming on the winter, comes word for me an' the powney to go - down to the mentioned (mansion) house, for the steward wanted - me. So away I wint, an' there, shure enuf, was an illigant - Scotch plough, every inch of iron, an' a lot of young Norroway - pines—the same you see shiltering the house an' yard—an' all - was a free prisint for me from the Scotch jontleman that was the - mimber of Parlimint. 'Twas that plough that did the meracles iv - work hereabouts; for I often lint it to any that I knew to be - a careful hand, an' it was the manes iv havin' the farmers all - round send an' buy 'em. At last I was able to build a brave snug - house; and, praised be Providence, I have never had an hour's ill - health nor a moment's grief, but when poor Biddy, the cratur, - died from us. It is thirty years since that morning that I tuk up - the first spadeful from the wild mountain side; an' twelve acres - are good labour land, an' fifteen drained an' good grazin'. I - have been payin' rint twinty years, an' am still, thank God, able - to take my own part iv any day's work—plough, spade, or flail." - - "Have you got a lease?" said I. - - "No, indeed, nor a schrape of a pin; nor I never axed it. Have I - not my _tinnant-rite_?" - -At any moment the labours of poor Con might have been rendered of no -benefit to him. He held the wretched hovel and the ground he tilled -merely by the permission of the landlord, who could have desolated all -by the common process of eviction; and Con would then have been driven -to new exertions or to the workhouse. The rugged ballad of "Patrick -Fitzpatrick's Farewell," presents a case more common than that of Con -McNale:— - - "Those three long years I've labour'd hard as any on Erin's isle, - And still was scarcely able my family to keep; - My tender wife and children three, under the lash of misery, - Unknown to friends and neighbours, I've often seen to weep. - Sad grief it seized her tender heart, when forced her only cow - to part, - And canted[94] was before her face, the poor-rates for to pay; - Cut down in all her youthful bloom, she's gone into her - silent tomb; - Forlorn I will mourn her loss when in America." - -In the same ballad we have an expression of the comparative paradise -the Irish expect to find—and do find, by the way—in that land which -excites so much the pity of the philanthropic aristocracy:— - - "Let Erin's sons and daughters fair now for the promised - land prepare, - America, that beauteous soil, will soon your toil repay; - _Employment, it is plenty there, on beef and mutton you can fare, - From five to six dollars is your wages every day_. - Now see what money has come o'er these three years from - Columbia's shore; - But for it numbers now were laid all in their silent clay; - California's golden mines, my boys, are open now to crown our joys, - So all our hardships we'll dispute when in America." - -As an illustration of the manner in which eviction is sometimes -effected by heartless landlords in Ireland, and the treatment which the -lowly of Great Britain generally receive from those who become their -masters, we may quote "Two Scenes in the Life of John Bodger," from -"Dickens's Household Words." The characters in this sketch are English; -but the incidents are such as frequently occur in Ireland:— - - "In the year 1832, on the 24th of December, one of those clear - bright days that sometimes supersede the regular snowy, sleety - Christmas weather, a large ship lay off Plymouth; the Blue Peter - flying from her masthead, quarters of beef hanging from her - mizzen-booms, and strings of cabbages from her stern rails; - her decks crowded with coarsely-clad blue-nosed passengers, and - lumbered with boxes, barrels, hen-coops, spars, and chain-cables. - The wind was rising with a hollow, dreary sound. Boats were - hurrying to and fro, between the vessel and the beach, where - stood excited groups of old people and young children. The - hoarse, impatient voices of officers issuing their commands, were - mingled with the shrill wailing of women on the deck and the - shore. - - "It was the emigrant ship 'Cassandra,' bound for Australia - during the period of the 'Bounty' system, when emigration - recruiters, stimulated by patriotism and a handsome percentage, - rushed frantically up and down the country, earnestly entreating - 'healthy married couples,' and single souls of either sex, - to accept a free passage to 'a land of plenty.' The English - labourers had not then discovered that Australia was a country - where masters were many and servants scarce. In spite of - poverty and poorhouse fare, few of the John Bull family could - be induced to give heed to flaming placards they could not - read, or inspiring harangues they could not understand. The - admirable education which in 1832, at intervals of seven days, - was distributed in homœopathic doses among the agricultural - olive-branches of England, did not include modern geography, even - when reading and writing were imparted. If a stray Sunday-school - scholar did acquire a faint notion of the locality of Canaan, he - was never permitted to travel as far as the British Colonies. - - "To the ploughman out of employ, Canaan, Canada, and Australia - were all '_furrin parts_;' he did not know the way to them; but - he knew the way to the poorhouse, so took care to keep within - reach of it. - - "Thus it came to pass that the charterers of the good ship - 'Cassandra' were grievously out in their calculations; and - failing to fill with English, were obliged to make up their - complement with Irish; who, having nothing to fall upon, but - the charity of the poor to the poorer, are always ready to go - anywhere for a daily meal. - - "The steamers from Cork had transferred their ragged, weeping, - laughing, fighting cargoes; the last stray groups of English - had been collected from the western counties; the Government - officers had cleared and passed the ship. With the afternoon - tide two hundred helpless, ignorant, destitute souls were to - bid farewell to their native land. The delays consequent on - miscalculating the emigrating taste of England had retarded until - midwinter, a voyage which should have been commenced in autumn. - - "In one of the shore-boats, sat a portly man—evidently neither - an emigrant nor a sailor—wrapped in a great coat and comforters; - his broad-brimmed beaver secured from the freezing blast by a - coloured bandanna tied under the chin of a fat, whiskerless face. - This portly personage was Mr. Joseph Lobbit, proprietor of 'The - Shop,' farmer, miller, and chairman of the vestry of the rich - rural parish of Duxmoor. - - "At Duxmoor, the chief estate was in Chancery, the manor-house in - ruins, the lord of it an outlaw, and the other landed proprietors - absentees, or in debt; a curate preached, buried, married, and - baptized, for the health of the rector compelled him to pass the - summer in Switzerland, and the winter in Italy; so Mr. Lobbit was - almost the greatest, as he was certainly the richest, man in the - parish. - - "Except that he did not care for any one but himself, and did not - respect any one who had not plenty of money, he was not a bad - sort of man. He had a jolly hearty way of talking and shaking - hands, and slapping people on the back; and until you began to - count money with him, he seemed a very pleasant, liberal fellow. - He was fond of money, but more fond of importance; and therefore - worked as zealously at parish-business as he did at his own farm, - shop, and mill. He centred the whole powers of the vestry in one - person, and would have been beadle, too, if it had been possible. - He appointed the master and matron of the workhouse, who were - relations of his wife; supplied all the rations and clothing for - 'the house,' and fixed the prices in full vestry (viz. himself, - and the clerk, his cousin,) assembled. He settled all the - questions of out-door relief, and tried hard, more than once, to - settle the rate of wages too. - - "Ill-natured people did say that those who would not work on - Master Lobbit's farm, at _his_ wages, stood a very bad chance - if they wanted any thing from the parish, or came for the doles - of blankets, coals, bread, and linsey-woolsey petticoats, - which, under the provisions of the tablets in Duxmoor church, - are distributed every Christmas. Of course, Mr. Lobbit supplied - these gifts, as chief shopkeeper, and dispensed them, as senior - and perpetual churchwarden. Lobbit gave capital dinners; plenty - smoked on his board, and pipes of negro-head with jorums of gin - punch followed, without stint. - - "The two attorneys dined with him—and were glad to come, for - he had always money to lend, on good security, and his gin was - unexceptionable. So did two or three bullfrog farmers, very rich - and very ignorant. The doctor and curate came occasionally; they - were poor, and in his debt at 'The Shop,' therefore bound to - laugh at his jokes—which were not so bad, for he was no fool—so - that, altogether, Mr. Lobbit had reason to believe himself a very - popular man. - - "But there was—where is there not?—a black drop in his - overflowing cup of prosperity. - - "He had a son whom he intended to make a gentleman; whom he - hoped to see married to some lady of good family, installed in - the manor-house of Duxmoor, (if it should be sold cheap, at the - end of the Chancery suit,) and established as the squire of the - parish. Robert Lobbit had no taste for learning, and a strong - taste for drinking, which his father's customers did their best - to encourage. Old Lobbit was decent in his private habits; but, - as he made money wherever he could to advantage, he was always - surrounded by a levee of scamps, of all degrees—some agents and - assistants, some borrowers, and would-be borrowers. Young Lobbit - found it easier to follow the example of his father's companions - than to follow his father's advice. He was as selfish and greedy - as his father, without being so agreeable or hospitable. In the - school-room he was a dunce, in the play-ground a tyrant and - bully; no one liked him; but, as he had plenty of money, many - courted him. - - "As a last resource his father sent him to Oxford; whence, after - a short residence, he was expelled. He arrived home drunk, and in - debt; without having lost one bad habit, or made one respectable - friend. From that period he lived a sot, a village rake, the - king of the taproom, and the patron of a crowd of blackguards, - who drank his beer and his health; hated him for his insolence, - and cheated him of his money. - - "Yet Joseph Lobbit loved his son, and tried not to believe the - stories good-natured friends told of him. - - "Another trouble fell upon the prosperous churchwarden. On - the north side of the parish, just outside the boundaries of - Duxmoor Manor, there had been, in the time of the Great Civil - Wars, a large number of small freehold farmers: each with from - forty to five acres of land; the smaller, fathers had divided - among their progeny; the larger had descended to eldest sons - by force of primogeniture. Joseph Lobbit's father had been one - of these small freeholders. A right of pasture on an adjacent - common was attached to these little freeholds; so, what with - geese and sheep, and a cow or so, even the poorest proprietor, - with the assistance of harvest work, managed to make a living, - up to the time of the last war. War prices made land valuable, - and the common was enclosed; though a share went to the little - freeholders, and sons and daughters were hired, at good wages, - while the enclosure was going on, the loss of the pasture for - stock, and the fall of prices at the peace, sealed their fate. - John Lobbit, our portly friend's father, succeeded to his little - estate, of twenty acres, by the death of his elder brother, in - the time of best war prices, after he had passed some years as a - shopman in a great seaport. His first use of it was to sell it, - and set up a shop in Duxmoor, to the great scandal of his farmer - neighbours. When John slept with his fathers, Joseph, having - succeeded to the shop and savings, began to buy land and lend - money. Between shop credit to the five-acred and mortgages to - the forty-acred men, with a little luck in the way of the useful - sons of the freeholders being constantly enlisted for soldiers, - impressed for sailors, or convicted for poaching offences, in - the course of years Joseph Lobbit became possessed, not only of - his paternal freehold, but, acre by acre, of all his neighbours' - holdings, to the extent of something like five hundred acres. - The original owners vanished; the stout and young departed, and - were seen no more; the old and decrepit were received and kindly - housed in the workhouse. Of course it could not have been part - of Mr. Lobbit's bargain to find them board and lodging for the - rest of their days at the parish expense. A few are said to have - drunk themselves to death; but this is improbable, for the cider - in that part of the country is extremely sour, so that it is more - likely they died of colic. - - "There was, however, in the very centre of the cluster of - freeholds which the parochial dignitary had so successfully - acquired, a small barren plot of five acres with a right of road - through the rest of the property. The possessor of this was a - sturdy fellow, John Bodger by name, who was neither to be coaxed - nor bullied into parting with his patrimony. - - "John Bodger was an only son, a smart little fellow, a capital - thatcher, a good hand at cobhouse building—in fact a handy man. - Unfortunately, he was as fond of pleasure as his betters. He sang - a comic song till peoples' eyes ran over, and they rolled on - their seats: he handled a singlestick very tidily; and, among the - light weights, was not to be despised as a wrestler. He always - knew where a hare was to be found; and, when the fox-hounds were - out, to hear his view-halloo did your heart good. These tastes - were expensive; so that when he came into his little property, - although he worked with tolerable industry, and earned good wages - for that part of the country, he never had a shilling to the - fore, as the Irish say. If he had been a prudent man, he might - have laid by something very snug, and defied Mr. Lobbit to the - end of his days. - - "It would take too long to tell all Joseph Lobbit's ingenious - devices—after plain, plump offers—to buy Bodger's acres had - been refused. John Bodger declined a loan to buy a cart and - horse; he refused to take credit or a new hat, umbrella, and - waistcoat, after losing his money at Bidecot Fair. He went on - steadily slaving at his bit of land, doing all the best thatching - and building jobs in the neighbourhood, spending his money, and - enjoying himself without getting into any scrapes; until Mr. - Joseph Lobbit, completely foiled, began to look on John Bodger as - a personal enemy. - - "Just when John and his neighbours were rejoicing over the defeat - of the last attempt of the jolly parochial, an accident occurred - which upset all John's prudent calculations. He fell in love. He - might have married Dorothy Paulson, the blacksmith's daughter—an - only child, with better than two hundred pounds in the bank, and - a good business—a virtuous, good girl, too, except that she was - as thin as a hurdle, with a skin like a nutmeg-grater, and rather - a bad temper. But instead of that, to the surprise of every - one, he went and married Carry Hutchins, the daughter of Widow - Hutchins, one of the little freeholders bought out by Mr. Lobbit, - who died, poor old soul, the day after she was carried into the - workhouse, leaving Carry and her brother Tom destitute—that is - to say, destitute of goods, money, or credit, but not of common - sense, good health, good looks, and power of earning wages. - - "Carry was nearly a head taller than John, with a face like a - ripe pear. He had to buy her wedding gown, and every thing else. - He bought them at Lobbit's shop. Tom Hutchins—he was fifteen - years old—a tall, spry lad, accepted five shillings from his - brother-in-law, hung a small bundle on his bird's-nesting stick, - and set off to walk to Bristol, to be a sailor. He was never - heard of any more at Duxmoor. - - "At first all went well. John left off going to wakes and fairs, - except on business; stuck to his trades; brought his garden - into good order, and worked early and late, when he could spare - time, at his two fields, while his wife helped him famously. If - they had had a few pounds in hand, they would have had 'land and - beeves.' - - "But the first year twins came—a boy and girl; and the next - another girl, and then twins again, and so on. Before Mrs. Bodger - was thirty she had nine hearty, healthy children, with a fair - prospect of plenty more; while John was a broken man, soured, - discontented, hopeless. No longer did he stride forth eagerly to - his work, after kissing mother and babies; no longer did he hurry - home to put a finishing-stroke to the potato-patch, or broadcast - his oat crop; no longer did he sit whistling and telling stories - of bygone feats at the fireside, while mending some wooden - implement of his own, or making one for a neighbour. Languid and - moody, he lounged to his task with round shoulders and slouching - gait; spoke seldom—when he did, seldom kindly. His children, - except the youngest, feared him, and his wife scarcely opened her - lips, except to answer. - - "A long, hard, severe winter, and a round of typhus fever, which - carried off two children, finished him. John Bodger was beaten, - and obliged to sell his bit of land. He had borrowed money on it - from the lawyer; while laid up with fever he had silently allowed - his wife to run up a bill at 'The Shop.' When strong enough for - work there was no work to be had. Lobbit saw his opportunity, - and took it. John Bodger wanted to buy a cow, he wanted seed, he - wanted to pay the doctor, and to give his boys clothes to enable - them to go to service. He sold his land for what he thought - would do all this and leave a few pounds in hand. He attended to - sign the deed and receive money; when instead of the balance of - twenty-five pounds he had expected, he received one pound ten - shillings, and a long lawyer's bill _receipted_. - - "He did not say much; for poor countrymen don't know how to talk - to lawyers, but he went toward home like a drunken man; and, not - hearing the clatter of a horse behind him that had run away, was - knocked down, run over, and picked up with his collar-bone and - two ribs broken. - - "The next day he was delirious; in the course of a fortnight he - came to his senses, lying on a workhouse bed. Before he could - rise from the workhouse bed, not a stick or stone had been left - to tell where the cottage of his fathers had stood for more - than two hundred years, and Mr. Joseph Lobbit had obtained, in - auctioneering phrase, a magnificent estate of five hundred acres - within a ring fence. - - "John Bodger stood up at length a ruined, desperate, dangerous - man, pale, and weak, and even humble. He said nothing; the fever - seemed to have tamed every limb—every feature—except his eyes, - which glittered like an adder's when Mr. Lobbit came to talk to - him. Lobbit saw it and trembled in his inmost heart, yet was - ashamed of being afraid of a _pauper_! - - "About this time Swing fires made their appearance in the - country, and the principal insurance companies refused to insure - farming stock, to the consternation of Mr. Lobbit; for he had - lately begun to suspect that among Mr. Swing's friends he was not - very popular, yet he had some thousand pounds of corn-stacks in - his own yards and those of his customers. - - "John Bodger, almost convalescent, was anxious to leave the - poorhouse, while the master, the doctor, and every official, - seemed in a league to keep him there and make him comfortable, - although a short time previously the feeling had been quite - different. But the old rector of Duxmoor having died at the early - age of sixty-six, in spite of his care for his health, had been - succeeded by a man who was not content to leave his duties to - deputies; all the parish affairs underwent a keen criticism, and - John and his large family came under investigation. His story - came out. The new rector pitied and tried to comfort him; but his - soothing words fell on deaf ears. The only answer he could get - from John was, 'A hard life while it lasts, sir, and a pauper's - grave, a pauper widow, pauper children; Parson, while this is all - you can offer John Bodger, preaching to him is of no use.' - - "With the wife the clergyman was more successful. Hope and belief - are planted more easily in the hearts of women than of men, for - adversity softens the one and hardens the other. The rector was - not content with exhorting the poor; he applied to the rich - Joseph Lobbit on behalf of John Bodger's family, and as the - rector was not only a truly Christian priest, but a gentleman of - good family and fortune, the parochial ruler was obliged to hear - and to heed. - - "Bland and smooth, almost pathetic, was Joseph Lobbit: he was - 'heartily sorry for the poor man and his large family; should be - happy to offer him and his wife permanent employment on his Hill - farm, as well as two of the boys and one of the girls.' - - "The eldest son and daughter, the first twins, had been for some - time in respectable service. John would have nothing to do with - Mr. Lobbit. - - "While this discussion was pending, the news of a ship at - Plymouth waiting for emigrants, reached Duxmoor. - - "The parson and the great shopkeeper were observed in a long warm - conference in the rectory garden, which ended in their shaking - hands, and the rector proceeding with rapid strides to the - poorhouse. - - "The same day the lately established girls' school was set to - work sowing garments of all sizes, as well as the females of - the rector's family. A week afterward there was a stir in the - village; a wagon moved slowly away, laden with a father, mother, - and large family, and a couple of pauper orphan girls. Yes, it - was true; John and Carry Bodger were going to 'furrin parts,' - 'to be made slaves on.' The women cried, and so did the children - from imitation. The men stared. As the emigrants passed the Red - Lion there was an attempt at a cheer from two tinkers; but it - was a failure; no one joined in. So staring and staring, the men - stood until the wagon crept round the turn of the lane and over - the bridge, out of sight; then bidding the 'wives' go home and be - hanged to 'em, their lords, that had twopence, went in to spend - it at the Red Lion, and those who had not, went in to see the - others drink, and talk over John Bodger's 'bouldness,' and abuse - Muster Lobbit quietly, so that no one in top-boots should hear - them;—for they were poor ignorant people in Duxmoor—they had - no one to teach them, or to care for them, and after the fever, - and a long hard winter, they cared little for their own flesh - and blood, still less for their neighbours. So John Bodger was - forgotten almost before he was out of sight. - - "By the road-wagon which the Bodgers joined when they reached the - highway, it was a three days' journey to Plymouth. - - "But, although they were gone, Mr. Lobbit did not feel quite - satisfied; he felt afraid lest John should return and do him - some secret mischief. He wished to see him on board ship, and - fairly under sail. Besides his negotiation with Emigration - Brokers had opened up ideas of a new way of getting rid, not - only of dangerous fellows like John Bodger, but of all kinds of - useless paupers. These ideas he afterward matured, and although - important changes have taken place in our emigrating system, - even in 1851, a visit to government ships, will present many - specimens of parish inmates converted, by dexterous diplomacy, - into independent labourers. - - "Thus it was, that contrary to all precedent, Mr. Lobbit left his - shopman to settle the difficult case of credit with his Christmas - customers, and with best horse made his way to Plymouth; and now - for the first time in his life floated on salt water. - - "With many grunts and groans he climbed the ship's side; not - being as great a man at Plymouth as at Duxmoor, no chair was - lowered to receive his portly person. The mere fact of having to - climb up a rope-ladder from a rocking boat on a breezy, freezing - day, was not calculated to give comfort or confident feelings to - an elderly gentleman. With some difficulty, not without broken - shins, amid the sarcastic remarks of groups of wild Irishmen, and - the squeaks of barefooted children—who not knowing his awful - parochial character, tumbled about Mr. Lobbit's legs in a most - impertinently familiar manner—he made his way to the captain's - cabin, and there transacted some mysterious business with the - Emigration Agent over a prime piece of mess beef and a glass of - Madeira. The Madeira warmed Mr. Lobbit. The captain assured him - positively that the ship would sail with the evening tide. That - assurance removed a heavy load from his breast: he felt like - a man who had been performing a good action, and also cheated - himself into believing that he had been spending _his own_ money - in charity; so, at the end of the second bottle, he willingly - chimed in with the broker's proposal to go down below and see how - the emigrants were stowed, and have a last look at his 'lot.' - - "Down the steep ladder they stumbled into the misery of a - 'bounty' ship. A long, dark gallery, on each side of which were - ranged the berths; narrow shelves open to every prying eye; - where, for four months, the inmates were to be packed like - herrings in a barrel, without room to move, almost without air - to breathe; the mess table, running far aft the whole distance - between the masts, left little room for passing, and that little - was encumbered with all manner of boxes, packages, and infants, - crawling about like rabbits in a warren. - - "The groups of emigrants were characteristically employed. - The Irish 'coshering,' or gossiping; for, having little or - no baggage to look after, they had little care; but lean and - ragged, monopolized almost all the good-humour of the ship. Acute - cockneys, a race fit for every change, hammering, whistling, - screwing and making all snug in their berths; tidy mothers, - turning with despair from alternate and equally vain attempts to - collect their numerous children out of danger, and to pack the - necessaries of a room into the space of a small cupboard, wept - and worked away. Here, a ruined tradesman, with his family, - sat at the table, dinnerless, having rejected the coarse, tough - salt meat in disgust: there, a half-starved group fed heartily - on rations from the same cask, luxuriated over the allowance of - grog, and the idea of such a good meal daily. Songs, groans, - oaths: crying, laughing, complaining, hammering and fiddling - combined to produce a chaos of strange sounds; while thrifty - wives, with spectacle on nose, mended their husband's breeches, - and unthrifty ones scolded. - - "Amid this confusion, under the authoritative guidance of the - second mate, Mr. Lobbit made his way, inwardly calculating how - many poachers, pauper refractories, Whiteboys, and Captain - Rocks, were about to benefit Australia by their talents, until - he reached a party which had taken up its quarters as far as - possible from the Irish, in a gloomy corner near the stern. It - consisted of a sickly, feeble woman, under forty, but worn, - wasted, retaining marks of former beauty in a pair of large, - dark, speaking eyes, and a well-carved profile, who was engaged - in nursing two chubby infants, evidently twins, while two little - things, just able to walk, hung at her skirts; a pale, thin boy, - nine or ten years old, was mending a jacket; an elder brother, as - brown as a berry, fresh from the fields, was playing dolefully on - a hemlock flute. The father, a little, round-shouldered man, was - engaged in cutting wooden buttons from a piece of hard wood with - his pocket-knife; when he caught sight of Mr. Lobbit he hastily - pulled off his coat, threw it into his berth, and, turning his - back, worked away vigorously at the stubborn bit of oak he was - carving. - - "'Hallo, John Bodger, so here you are at last,' cried Mr. Lobbit; - 'I've broken my shins, almost broken my neck, and spoilt my coat - with tar and pitch, in finding you out. Well, you're quite at - home, I see: twins all well?—both pair of them? How do you find - yourself, Missis?' - - "The pale woman sighed, and cuddled her babies—the little man - said nothing, but sneered, and made the chips fly faster. - - "'You're on your way now to a country where twins are no object; - your passage is paid, and you've only got now to pray for the - good gentlemen that have given you a chance of earning an honest - living.' - - "No answer. - - "'I see them all here except Mary, the young lady of the family. - Pray, has she taken rue, and determined to stay in England, after - all; I expected as much'— - - "As he spoke, a young girl, in the neat dress of a parlour - servant, came out of the shade. - - "'Oh! you are there, are you, Miss Mary? So you have made up your - mind to leave your place and Old England, to try your luck in - Australia; plenty of husbands there: ha, ha!' - - "The girl blushed, and sat down to sew at some little garments. - Fresh, rosy, neat, she was as great a contrast to her brother, - the brown, ragged ploughboy, as he was to the rest of the family, - with their flabby, bleached complexions. - - "There was a pause. The mate, having done his duty by finding - the parochial dignitary's _protegés_, had slipped away to more - important business; a chorus of sailors 'yo heave ho-ing' at a - chain cable had ceased, and for a few moments, by common consent, - silence seemed to have taken possession of the long, dark gallery - of the hold. - - "Mr. Lobbit was rather put out by the silence, and no answers; he - did not feel so confident as when crowing on his own dunghill, - in Duxmoor; he had a vague idea that some one might steal behind - him in the dark, knock his hat over his eyes, and pay off old - scores with a hearty kick: but parochial dignity prevailed, and, - clearing his throat with a 'hem,' he began again— - - "'John Bodger, where's your coat?—what are you shivering there - for, in your sleeves?—what have you done with the excellent coat - generously presented to you by the parish—a coat that cost, as - per contract, fourteen shillings and fourpence—you have not - dared to sell it, I hope?' - - "'Well, Master Lobbit, and if I did, the coat was my own, I - suppose?' - - "'What, sir?' - - "The little man quailed; he had tried to pluck up his spirit, - but the blood did not flow fast enough. He went to his berth and - brought out the coat. - - "It was certainly a curious colour, a sort of yellow brown, the - cloth shrunk and cockled up, and the metal buttons turned a dingy - black. - - "Mr. Lobbit raved; 'a new coat entirely spoiled, what had he - done to it?' and as he raved he warmed, and felt himself at - home again, deputy acting chairman of the Duxmoor Vestry. But - the little man, instead of being frightened, grew red, lost his - humble mien, stood up, and at length, when his tormentor paused - for breath, looked him full in the face, and cried, 'Hang your - coat!—hang you!—hang all the parochials of Duxmoor! What have - I done with your coat? Why, I've dyed it; I've dipped it in a - tan-yard; I was not going to carry your livery with me. I mean - to have the buttons off before I'm an hour older. Gratitude you - talk of;—thanks you want, you old hypocrite, for sending me - away. I'll tell you what sent me,—it was that poor wench and - her twins, and a letter from the office, saying they would not - insure your ricks, while lucifer matches are so cheap. Ay, you - may stare—you wonder who told me that; but I can tell you more. - Who is it writes so like his father the bank can't tell the - difference?' - - "Mr. Lobbit turned pale. - - "'Be off!' said the little man; 'plague us no more. You have - eaten me up with your usury; you've got my cottage and my bit of - land; you've made paupers of us all, except that dear lass, and - the one lad, and you'd wellnigh made a convict of me. But never - mind. This will be a cold, drear Christmas to us, and a merry, - fat one to you; but, perhaps, the Christmas may come when Master - Joseph Lobbit would be glad to change places with poor, ruined - John Bodger. I am going where I am told that sons and daughters - like mine are better than "silver, yea, than fine gold." I leave - you rich on the poor man's inheritance, and poor man's flesh and - blood. You have a son and daughter that will revenge me. "Cursed - are they that remove landmarks, and devour the substance of the - poor!"' - - "While this, one of the longest speeches that John Bodger - was ever known to make, was being delivered, a little crowd - had collected, who, without exactly understanding the merits - of the case, had no hesitation in taking side with their - fellow-passenger, the poor man with the large family. The Irish - began to inquire if the stout gentleman was a tithe-proctor or - a driver? Murmurs of a suspicious character arose, in the midst - of which, in a very hasty, undignified manner, Mr. Lobbit backed - out, climbed up to the deck with extraordinary agility, and, - without waiting to make any complaints to the officers of the - ship, slipped down the side into a boat, and never felt himself - safe, until called to his senses by an attempt on the part of the - boatman to exact four times the regular fare. - - "But a good dinner at the Globe (at parochial expense) and a - report from the agent that the ship had sailed, restored Mr. - Lobbit's equanimity; and by the time that, snugly packed in the - mail, he was rattling along toward home by a moonlight Christmas, - he began to think himself a martyr to a tender heart, and to - console himself by calculating the value of the odd corner of - Bodger's acres, cut up into lots for his labourers' cottages. The - result—fifty per cent.—proved a balm to his wounded feelings. - - "I wish I could say that at the same hour John Bodger was - comforting his wife and little ones; sorry am I to report that he - left them to weep and complain, while he went forward and smoked - his pipe, and sang, and drank grog with a jolly party in the - forecastle—for John's heart was hardened, and he cared little - for God or man. - - "This old, fond love for his wife and children seemed to have - died away. He left them, through the most part of the voyage, to - shift for themselves—sitting forward, sullenly smoking, looking - into vacancy, and wearying the sailors with asking, 'How many - knots to-day, Jack? When do you think we shall see land?' So that - the women passengers took a mortal dislike to him; and it being - gossiped about that when his wife was in the hospital he never - went to see her for two days, they called him a brute. So 'Bodger - the Brute' he was called until the end of the voyage. Then they - were all dispersed, and such stories driven out of mind by new - scenes. - - "John was hired to go into the far interior, where it was - difficult to get free servants at all; so his master put up with - the dead-weight encumbrance of the babies, in consideration - of the clever wife and string of likely lads. Thus, in a - new country, he began life again in a blue jersey and ragged - corduroys, but with the largest money income he had ever known." - -The second scene is a picture of John Bodger's prosperity in Australia, -where eviction and workhouses are forgotten. If Australia had not -been open to John as a refuge, most probably he would have become a -criminal, or a worthless vagrant. Here is the second scene:— - - "In 1842, my friend Mrs. C. made one of her marches through the - bush with an army of emigrants. These consisted of parents with - long families, rough, country-bred single girls, with here and - there a white-handed, useless young lady—the rejected ones of - the Sydney hirers. In these marches she had to depend for the - rations of her ragged regiment on the hospitality of the settlers - on her route, and was never disappointed, although it often - happened that a day's journey was commenced without any distinct - idea of who would furnish the next dinner and breakfast. - - "On one of these foraging excursions—starting at day-dawn on - horseback, followed by her man Friday, an old _lag_, (prisoner,) - in a light cart, to carry the provender—she went forth to look - for the flour, milk, and mullet, for the breakfast of a party - whose English appetites had been sharpened by travelling at the - pace of the drays all day, and sleeping in the open air all night. - - "The welcome smoke of the expected station was found; the light - cart, with the complements and empty sack despatched; when - musing, at a foot-pace, perhaps on the future fortune of the - half-dozen girls hired out the previous day, Mrs. C. came upon a - small party which had also been encamping on the other side of - the hills. - - "It consisted of two gawky lads, in docked smock frocks, woolly - hats, rosy, sleepy countenances—fresh arrivals, living monuments - of the care bestowed in developing the intelligence of the - agricultural mind in England. They were hard at work on broiled - mutton. A regular, hard-dried bushman had just driven up a pair - of blood mares from their night's feed, and a white-headed, brisk - kind of young old man, the master of the party, was sitting - by the fire, trying to feed an infant with some sort of mess - compounded with sugar. A dray, heavily laden, with a bullock-team - ready harnessed, stood ready to start under the charge of a - bullock-watchman. - - "The case was clear to a colonial eye; the white-headed man had - been down to the port from his bush-farm to sell his stuff, and - was returning with two blood mares purchased, and two emigrant - lads hired; but what was the meaning of the baby? We see strange - things in the bush, but a man-nurse is strange even there. - - "Although they had never met before, the white-headed man almost - immediately recognised Mrs. C.,—for who did not know her, or of - her, in the bush?—so was more communicative than he otherwise - might have been; so he said— - - "'You see, ma'am, my lady, I have only got on my own place these - three years; having a long family, we found it best to disperse - about where the best wages was to be got. We began saving the - first year, and my daughters have married pretty well, and my - boys got to know the ways of the country. There's three of them - married, thanks to your ladyship; so we thought we could set up - for ourselves. And we've done pretty tidy. So, as they were all - busy at home, I went down for the first time to get a couple of - mares, and see about hiring some lads out of the ships to help - us. You see I have picked up two newish ones; I have docked - their frocks to a useful length, and I think they'll do after a - bit; they can't read, neither of them—no more could I when I - first came—but our teacher (she's one my missis had from you) - will soon fettle them; and I've got a power of things on the - dray; I wish you could be there at unloading; for it being my - first visit, I wanted something for all of them. But about this - babby is a curious job. When I went aboard the ship to hire my - shepherds, I looked out for some of my own country; and while - I was asking, I heard of a poor woman whose husband had been - drowned in a drunken fit on the voyage, that was lying very ill, - with a young babby, and not likely to live. - - "'Something made me go to see her; she had no friends on board, - she knew no one in the colony. She started, like, at my voice; - one word brought on another, when it came out she was the wife of - the son of my greatest enemy. - - "'She had been his father's servant, and married the son - secretly. When it was found out, he had to leave the country; - thinking that once in Australia, the father would be reconciled, - and the business that put her husband in danger might be settled. - For this son was a wild, wicked man, worse than the father, but - with those looks and ways that take the hearts of poor lasses. - Well, as we talked, and I questioned her—for she did not seem so - ill as they had told me—she began to ask me who I was, and I did - not want to tell; when I hesitated, she guessed, and cried out, - 'What, John Bodger, is it thee!'—and with that she screamed, and - screamed, and went off quite light-headed, and never came to her - senses until she died. - - "'So, as there was no one to care for the poor little babby, - and as we had such a lot at home, what with my own children and - my grandchildren, I thought one more would make no odds, so the - gentleman let me take it, after I'd seen the mother decently - buried. - - "'You see this feeding's a very awkward job, ma'am—and I've been - five days on the road. But I think my missis will be pleased as - much as with the gown I've brought her.' - - "'What,' said Mrs. C., 'are you the John Bodger that came over in - the 'Cassandra,'—the John B.?' - - "'Yes, ma'am.' - - "'John, the Brute?' - - "'Yes, ma'am. But I'm altered, sure-_ly_.' - - "'Well,' continued John, 'the poor woman was old Joseph Lobbit's - daughter-in-law. Her husband had been forging, or something, and - would have been lagged if he'd staid in England. I don't know but - I might have been as bad if I had not got out of the country when - I did. But there's something here in always getting on; and not - such a struggling and striving that softens a poor man's heart. - And I trust what I've done for this poor babby and its mother - may excuse my brutish behaviour. I could not help thinking when - I was burying poor Jenny Lobbit, (I mind her well, a nice little - lass, about ten years old,) I could not help thinking as she lay - in a nice, cloth-covered coffin, and a beautiful stone cut with - her name and age, and a text on her grave, how different it is - even for poor people to be buried here. Oh, ma'am! a man like - me, with a long family, can make ahead here, and do a bit of - good for others worse off. We live while we live; when we die we - are buried with decency. I remember, when my wife's mother died, - the parish officers were so cross, and the boards of the coffin - barely stuck together, and it was terrible cold weather, too. My - Carry used to cry about it uncommonly all the winter. The swells - may say what they like about it, but I'll be blessed if it be'ent - worth all the voyage to die in it.' - - "Not many days afterward, Mrs. C. saw John at home, surrounded - by an army of sons and daughters; a patriarch, and yet not sixty - years old; the grandchild of his greatest enemy the greatest pet - of the family. - - "In my mind's eye there are sometimes two pictures. John Bodger - in the workhouse, thinking of murder and fire-raising in the - presence of his prosperous enemy; and John Bodger, in his happy - bush-home, nursing little Nancy Lobbit. - - "At Duxmoor the shop has passed into other hands. The - ex-shopkeeper has bought and rebuilt the manor-house. He is the - squire, now, wealthier than ever he dreamed; on one estate a - mine has been found; a railway has crossed and doubled the value - of another; but his son is dead; his daughter has left him, - and lives, he knows not where, a life of shame. Childless and - friendless, the future is, to him, cheerless and without hope." - -Poor-law guardians are characters held in very low esteem by the Irish -serfs, who are not backward in expressing their contempt. The feeling -is a natural one, as will appear from considering who those guardians -generally are, and how they perform their duties:— - - "At the introduction of the poor-law into Ireland, the workhouses - were built by means of loans advanced by the Government on the - security of the rates. Constructed generally in that style of - architecture called 'Elizabethan,' they were the most imposing - in the country in elevation and frequency, and, placed usually - in the wretched suburbs of towns and villages, formed among the - crumbling and moss-grown cottages, a pleasing contrast in the - eye of the tourist. They were calculated to accommodate from - five hundred to two thousand inmates, according to the area and - population of the annexed district; but some of them remained for - years altogether closed, or, if open, nearly unoccupied, owing - to the ingenious shifts of the 'Guardians,' under the advice - of the 'Solicitor of the Board,' Their object was to economize - the resources of the Union, to keep the rates down, and in some - instances they evaded the making of any rate for years after the - support of the destitute was made nominally imperative by the law - of the land. - - "As there was a good deal of patronage in a small way placed at - the disposal of the 'Guardians,' great anxiety was manifested - by those eligible to the office. Most justices of the peace - were, indeed, _ipso facto_, Guardians, but a considerable - number had to be elected by the rate-payers, and an active - canvass preceded every election. A great deal of activity and - conviviality, if not gayety, was the result, and more apparently - important affairs were neglected by many a farmer, shopkeeper, - and professional man, to insure his being elected a 'Guardian,' - while the unsuccessful took pains to prove their indifference, or - to vent their ill-humour in various ways, sometimes causing less - innocuous effects than the following sally:— - - "At a certain court of quarter sessions, during the dog-day heat - of one of these contests, a burly fellow was arraigned before - 'their worships' and the jury, charged with some petty theft; and - as he perceived that the proofs were incontestably clear against - him, he fell into a very violent trepidation. An attorney of the - court, not overburdened with business, and fond of occupying his - idle time in playing off practical jokes, perceiving how the case - stood, addressed the prisoner in a whisper over the side of the - dock, with a very ominous and commiserating shake of his head: - - "'Ah, you unfortunate man, ye'll be found guilty; and as sure - as ye are, ye'll get worse than hangin' or thransportation. As - sure as ever the barristher takes a pinch of snuff, that's his - intention; ye'll see him put on the black cap immaydiately. Plaid - guilty at once, and I'll tell ye what ye'll say to him afther.' - - "The acute practitioner knew his man; the poor half-witted - culprit fell into the snare; and after a short and serious - whispering between them, which was unobserved in the bustle of - the court-house usual on such occasions, the prisoner cried out, - just as the issue-paper was going up to the jury, 'Me lord, me - lord, I plaid guilty; I beg your wortchip's an' their honours' - pardon. - - "'Very well,' said the assistant barrister, whose duty it was to - advise upon the law of each case, and preside at the bench in - judicial costume; 'very well, sir. Crier, call silence.' - - "Several voices immediately called energetically for silence, - impressing the culprit with grave ideas at once of his worship's - great importance, and the serious nature of the coming sentence. - - "'Withdraw the plea of not guilty, and take one of guilty to the - felony,' continued the assistant barrister, taking a pinch of - snuff and turning round to consult his brother magistrates as to - the term of intended incarceration. - - "'Don't lose yer time, ye omodhaun!' said the attorney, with an - angry look at the prisoner. - - "'Will I be allowed to spake one word, yer wortchips?' said the - unfortunate culprit. - - "'What has he to say?' said the assistant barrister with - considerable dignity. - - "'Go on, ye fool ye,' urged the attorney. - - "'My lord, yer wortchips, and gintlemin av the jury,' exclaimed - the culprit, 'sind me out o' the counthry, or into jail, or - breakin' stones, or walkin' on the threadmill, or any thing else - in the coorse o' nature, as yer wortchips playses; but for the - love o' the Virgin Mary, _don't make me a Poor-Law Gargin_.'"[95] - -The most recent legislation of the British government in regard to -Ireland, the enactment of the Poor-law and the Encumbered Estates Act, -has had but one grand tendency—that of diminishing the number of the -population, which is, indeed, a strange way to improve the condition -of the nation. The country was not too thickly populated; far from it: -great tracts of land were entirely uninhabited. The exterminating acts -were, therefore, only measures of renewed tyranny. To enslave a people -is a crime of sufficient enormity; but to drive them from the homes -of their ancestors to seek a refuge in distant and unknown lands, is -such an action as only the most monstrous of governments would dare to -perform. - -We have thus shown that Ireland has long endured, and still endures, a -cruel system of slavery, for which we may seek in vain for a parallel. -It matters not that the Irish serf may leave his country; while he -remains he is a slave to a master who will not call him property, -chiefly because it would create the necessity of careful and expensive -ownership. If the Irish master took his labourer for his slave in the -American sense, he would be compelled to provide for him, work or not -work, in sickness and in old age. Thus the master reaps the benefits, -and escapes the penalties of slave-holding. He takes the fruits of -the labourer's toil without providing for him as the negro slaves of -America are provided for; nay, very often he refuses the poor wretch -a home at any price. In no other country does the slaveholder seem so -utterly reckless in regard to human life as in Ireland. After draining -all possible profit from his labourer's service he turns him forth as -a pauper, to get scant food if workhouse officials choose to give it, -and if not, to starve by the wayside. The last great famine was the -direct result of this accursed system of slavery. It was oppression -of the worst kind that reduced the mass of the people to depend for -their subsistence upon the success or failure of the potato crop; and -the horrors that followed the failure of the crop were as much the -results of misgovernment as the crimes of the French Revolution were -the consequences of feudal tyranny, too long endured. Can England ever -accomplish sufficient penance for her savage treatment of Ireland? - -Some English writers admit that the degradation of the Irish and the -wretched condition of the country can scarcely be overdrawn, but -seek for the causes of this state of things in the character of the -people. But why does the Irishman work, prosper, and achieve wealth -and position under every other government but that of Ireland? This -would not hbe the case if there was any thing radically wrong in the -Irish nature. In the following extract from an article in the Edinburgh -Review, we have a forcible sketch of the condition of Ireland, coloured -somewhat to suit English views:— - - "It is obvious that the insecurity of a community in which the - bulk of the population form a conspiracy against the law, must - prevent the importation of capital; must occasion much of what is - accumulated there to be exported; and must diminish the motives - and means of accumulation. Who will send his property to a place - where he cannot rely on its being protected? Who will voluntarily - establish himself in a country which to-morrow may be in a state - of disturbance? A state in which, to use the words of Chief - Justice Bushe, 'houses and barns and granaries are levelled, - crops are laid waste, pasture-lands are ploughed, plantations are - torn up, meadows are thrown open to cattle, cattle are maimed, - tortured, killed; persons are visited by parties of banditti, - who inflict cruel torture, mutilate their limbs, or beat them - almost to death. Men who have in any way become obnoxious to the - insurgents, or opposed their system, or refused to participate - in their outrages, are deliberately assassinated in the open - day; and sometimes the unoffending family are indiscriminately - murdered by burning the habitation.'[96] A state in which even - those best able to protect themselves, the gentry, are forced to - build up all their lower windows with stone and mortar; to admit - light only into one sitting-room, and not into all the windows - of that room; to fortify every other inlet by bullet-proof - barricades; to station sentinels around during all the night - and the greater part of the day, and to keep firearms in all - the bedrooms, and even on the side-table at breakfast and - dinner-time.[97] Well might Bishop Doyle exclaim, 'I do not blame - the absentees; I would be an absentee myself if I could.' - - "The state of society which has been described may be considered - as a proof of the grossest ignorance; for what can be a greater - proof of ignorance than a systematic opposition to law, carried - on at the constant risk of liberty and of life, and producing - where it is most successful, in the rural districts, one level - of hopeless poverty, and in the towns, weeks of high wages and - months without employment—a system in which tremendous risks - and frightful sufferings are the means, and general misery is - the result? The ignorance, however, which marks the greater - part of the population in Ireland, is not merely ignorance of - the moral and political tendency of their conduct—an ignorance - in which the lower orders of many more advanced communities - participate—but ignorance of the businesses which are their - daily occupations. It is ignorance, not as citizens and subjects, - but as cultivators and labourers. They are ignorant of the proper - rotation of crops, of the preservation and use of manure—in a - word, of the means by which the land, for which they are ready - to sacrifice their neighbours' lives, and to risk their own, is - to be made productive. Their manufactures, such as they are, are - rude and imperfect, and the Irish labourer, whether peasant or - artisan, who emigrates to Great Britain, never possesses skill - sufficient to raise him above the lowest ranks in his trade. - - "Indolence—the last of the causes to which we have attributed - the existing misery of Ireland—is not so much an independent - source of evil as the result of the combination of all others. - The Irishman does not belong to the races that are by nature - averse from toil. In England, Scotland, or America he can work - hard. He is said, indeed, to require more overlooking than the - natives of any of these countries, and to be less capable, or, to - speak more correctly, to be less willing to surmount difficulties - by patient intellectual exertion; but no danger deters, no - disagreeableness disgusts, no bodily fatigue discourages him. - - "But in his own country he is indolent. All who have compared - the habits of hired artisans or of the agricultural labourers in - Ireland with those of similar classes in England or Scotland, - admit the inferiority of industry of the former. The indolence - of the great mass of the people, the occupiers of land, is - obvious even to the passing traveller. Even in Ulster, the - province in which, as we have already remarked, the peculiarities - of the Irish character are least exhibited, not only are the - cabins, and even the farm-houses, deformed within and without by - accumulations of filth, which the least exertion would remove, - but the land itself is suffered to waste a great portion of its - productive power. We have ourselves seen field after field in - which the weeds covered as much space as the crops. From the time - that his crops are sowed and planted until they are reaped the - peasant and his family are cowering over the fire, or smoking, or - lounging before the door, when an hour or two a day employed in - weeding their potatoes, oats, or flax, would perhaps increase the - produce by one-third. - - "The indolence of the Irish artisan is sufficiently accounted for - by the combinations which, by prohibiting piece-work, requiring - all the workmen to be paid by the day and at the same rate, - prohibiting a good workman from exerting himself, have destroyed - the motives to industry. 'I consider it,' says Mr. Murray, 'a - very hard rule among them, that the worst workman that ever took - a tool in his hand, should be paid the same as the best, but that - is the rule and regulation of the society; and that there was - only a certain quantity of work allowed to be done; so that, if - one workman could turn more work out of his hands, he durst not - go on with it. There is no such thing as piece-work; and if a bad - man is not able to get through his work, a good workman dare not - go further than he does.'[98] - - "The indolence of the agricultural labourer arises, perhaps, - principally from his labour being almost always day-work, and - in a great measure a mere payment of debt—a mere mode of - working out his rent. That of the occupier may be attributed - to a combination of causes. In the first place, a man must be - master of himself to a degree not common even among the educated - classes, before he can be trusted to be his own task-master. Even - among the British manufacturers, confessedly the most industrious - labourers in Europe, those who work in their own houses are - comparatively idle and irregular, and yet they work under the - stimulus of certain and immediate gain. The Irish occupier, - working for a distant object, dependent in some measure on the - seasons, and with no one to control or even to advise him, puts - off till to-morrow what need not necessarily be done to-day—puts - off till next year what need not necessarily be done this year, - and ultimately leaves much totally undone. - - "Again, there is no damper so effectual as liability to taxation - proportioned to the means of payment. It is by this instrument - that the Turkish government has destroyed the industry, the - wealth, and ultimately the population of what were once the most - flourishing portions of Asia—perhaps of the world. It is thus - that the _taille_ ruined the agriculture of the most fertile - portions of France. Now, the Irish occupier has long been subject - to this depressive influence, and from various sources. The - competition for land has raised rents to an amount which can be - paid only under favourable circumstances. Any accident throws - the tenant into an arrear, and the arrear is kept a subsisting - charge, to be enforced if he should appear capable of paying it. - If any of the signs of prosperity are detected in his crop, his - cabin, his clothes, or his food, some old demand may be brought - up against him. Again, in many districts a practice prevails of - letting land to several tenants, each of whom is responsible - for the whole rent. It is not merely the consequence, but the - intention, that those who can afford to pay should pay for those - who cannot. Again, it is from taxation, regulated by apparent - property, that all the revenues of the Irish Catholic Church - are drawn. The half-yearly offerings, the fees on marriages and - christenings, and, what is more important, the contributions - to the priests made on those occasions by the friends of the - parties, are all assessed by public opinion, according to the - supposed means of the payer. An example of the mode in which this - works, occurred a few months ago, within our own knowledge. £300 - was wanted by a loan fund, in a Catholic district in the North - of Ireland. In the night, one of the farmers, a man apparently - poor, came to his landlord, the principal proprietor in the - neighbourhood, and offered to lend the money, if the circumstance - could be kept from his priest. His motive for concealment was - asked, and he answered, that, if the priest knew he had £300 at - interest, his dues would be doubled. Secrecy was promised, and a - stocking was brought from its hiding-place in the roof, filled - with notes and coin, which had been accumulating for years until - a secret investment could be found. Again, for many years past a - similar taxation has existed for political purposes. The Catholic - rent, the O'Connell tribute, and the Repeal rent, like every - other tax that is unsanctioned by law, must be exacted, to a - larger or smaller amount, from every _cottier_, or farmer, as he - is supposed to be better or worse able to provide for them. - - "Who can wonder that the cultivator, who is exposed to these - influences, should want the industry and economy which give - prosperity to the small farmer in Belgium? What motive has he - for industry and economy? It may be said that he has the same - motive in kind, though not in degree, as the inhabitants of a - happier country; since the new demand to which any increase of - his means would expose him probably would not exhaust the whole - of that increase. The same might be said of the subjects of the - Pasha. There are inequalities of fortune among the cultivators - of Egypt, just as there were inequalities in that part of France - which was under the _taille_. No taxation ever exhausted the - whole surplus income of all its victims. But when a man cannot - calculate the extent to which the exaction may go—when all he - knows is, that the more he appears to have the more will be - demanded—when he knows that every additional comfort which he is - seen to enjoy, and every additional productive instrument which - he is found to possess, may be a pretext for a fresh extortion, - he turns careless or sulky—he yields to the strong temptation of - indolence and of immediate excitement and enjoyment—he becomes - less industrious, and therefore produces less—he becomes less - frugal, and therefore, if he saves at all, saves a smaller - portion of that smaller product." - -For the turbulence of the Irish people, the general indolence of the -labourers and artisans, and the misery that exists, the writer of the -above sketch has causes worthy of the acuteness of Sir James Graham, or -some other patent political economist of the aristocracy of England. -We need not comment. We have only made the above quotation to show to -what a condition Ireland has been reduced, according to the admissions -of an aristocratic organ of England, leaving the reader acquainted with -the history of English legislation in regard to the unhappy island to -make the most natural inferences. - -The ecclesiastical system of Ireland has long been denounced as an -injury and an insult. As an insult it has no parallel in history. -Oppression and robbery in matters connected with religion have been -unhappily frequent; but in all other cases the oppressed and robbed -have been the minority. That one-tenth of the population of a great -country should appropriate to themselves the endowment originally -provided for all their countrymen; that, without even condescending -to inquire whether there were or were not a congregation of their own -persuasion to profit by them, they should seize the revenues of every -benefice, should divert them from their previous application, and -should hand them over to an incumbent of their own, to be wasted as a -sinecure if they were not wanted for the performance of a duty—this is -a treatment of which the contumely stings more sharply even than the -injustice, enormous as that is.[99] - -The tax of a tithe for the support of a church in which they have no -faith is a grievance of which Irish Catholics, who compose nine-tenths -of the population of Ireland, complain with the greatest reason. -Of what benefit to them is a church which they despise? The grand -reason for the existence of an established church fails under such -circumstances. The episcopal institutions can communicate no religious -instruction, because the creed which they sustain is treated with -contempt. But where is the use of argument in regard to this point. The -Established Church affords many luxurious places for the scions of the -aristocracy, and there lies the chief purpose of its existence. The -oppressive taxation of Catholics to support a Protestant church will -cease with the aristocracy. - - - - -CHAPTER VIII. - -THE MENIAL SLAVES OF GREAT BRITAIN. - - -The spirit of British institutions is nowhere more plainly and -offensively manifested than in the treatment which domestic servants -receive. The haughty bearing, the constant display of supreme contempt, -and the frequency of downright cruelty on the part of the master or -mistress, and the complete abasement and submission of the servant, -have been repeatedly subjects of observation, and show clearly that the -days of "lord and thrall" are vividly remembered in Great Britain. In -Miss Martineau's "Society in America," we find some observations to the -point. She says— - - "However fascinating to Americans may be the luxury, - conversational freedom, and high intellectual cultivation of - English society, they cannot fail to be disgusted with the - aristocratic insolence which is the vice of the whole. The - puerile and barbaric spirit of contempt is scarcely known in - America; the English insolence of class to class, of individuals - toward each other, is not even conceived of, except in the one - highly disgraceful instance of the treatment of people of colour. - Nothing in American civilization struck me so forcibly and so - pleasurably as the invariable respect paid to man, as man. - Nothing since my return to England has given me so much pain as - the contrast there. Perhaps no Englishman can become fully aware, - without going to America, of the atmosphere of insolence in - which he dwells; of the taint of contempt which infects all the - intercourses of his world. He cannot imagine how all he can say - that is truest and best about the treatment of people of colour - in America, is neutralized on the spot by its being understood - how the same contempt is spread over the whole of society here, - which is there concentrated upon the blacks." - -It has been remarked that those who are most submissive as serfs are -the most arrogant and tyrannical as lords. In Great Britain, from dukes -down to workhouse officials, the truth of this remark is obvious. Each -class treats its superior with abject deference, and its inferior -with overbearing insolence. The corollary of our quotation from Miss -Martineau is that the treatment masters give to their negro slaves in -America, in their common intercourse, is what masters give to their -servants in Great Britain. In the free States of America a master may -command his servant, and if obedience is refused he may deduct from -his wages or give him a discharge, but the laws prevent all violence; -the man is never forgotten in the servant. Another state of affairs -is to be found in Great Britain. The laws are inadequate in their -construction and too costly in their administration to protect the poor -servant. Should he refuse obedience, or irritate his master in any way, -his punishment is just as likely to be kicks and blows as a discharge -or a reduction of wages. Englishmen have frequently complained, while -doing business in the United States, because they were prevented from -striking refractory persons in their employ. In attempting to act out -their tyrannical ideas, such employers have been severely chastised by -their free, republican servants. - -What the serf of the feudal baron in the twelfth century was, the -servant of modern days is, in the eyes of the lords and ladies of Great -Britain. Between these aristocrats and their retainers there exists -no fellow-feeling; the ties of our common brotherhood are snapped -asunder, and a wide and startling gap intervenes. "Implicit obedience -to commands, and a submissive, respectful demeanour on the one hand, -are repaid by orders given in the most imperative tone, to perform the -most degrading offices, and by a contemptuous, haughty demeanour on the -other hand. In the servant the native dignity of our nature is for the -time broken and crushed. In the master the worst passion of our nature -is exhibited in all its hideous deformity. The spirit that dictated -the expression, 'I am the porcelain, you are only the common clay,' -is not confined to the original speaker, but, with few exceptions, -is very generally participated in. It is not, however, solely by the -aristocratic class that the servant is treated with such contumely, the -fault is largely participated in by the middle and working classes. -The feelings of the English people are essentially aristocratic."[100] - -Until recently an order was placed at the entrance to Kensington -Gardens, which read as follows:—"_No Dogs or Livery Servants -admitted_." What more conclusive evidence of the degraded condition -of menial servants in Great Britain could be obtained. A fellow-man, -of good character—a necessary conclusion from his being in a -situation—is placed on a level with brutes. The livery seems as much -the badge of slavery in the nineteenth century as the collar of iron -was in the days of baron and villain. It is a bar to the reception of -a servant in any genteel society, and thus constantly reminds him of -his debased condition. He can have but little hope of improving that -condition, when all intercourse with persons of superior fortune or -attainments is so effectually prevented. A menial he is, and menials -must his children be, unless they should meet with extraordinary -fortune. The following letter of a footman recently appeared in the -"Times" newspaper. It is manly, and to the point. - - "Many articles having appeared in your paper under the term - 'Flunkeyana,' all depreciatory of poor flunkeys, may I be allowed - to claim a fair and impartial hearing on the other side? I am - a footman, a liveried flunkey, a pampered menial—terms which - one Christian employs to another, simply because he is, by - the Almighty Dispenser of all things, placed, in his wisdom, - lower in life than the other. Not yet having seen any defence - of servants, may I trust to your candour and your generosity - to insert this humble apology for a set of men constrained by - circumstances to earn their living by servitude? The present - cry seems to be to lower their wages. I will state simply a few - broad facts. I am a footman in a family in which I have lived - thirteen years. My master deems my services worth 24 guineas - a year. The question is, is this too much? I will strike the - average of expenditure. I am very economical, it is considered. I - find for washing I pay near £6 a year; shoes, £4 10_s._; tea and - sugar, £2 12_s._; wearing apparel, say £4 4_s._; for books—I am - a reader—I allow myself £1 7_s._ You will see this amounts to - £18 7_s._ each year. I include nothing for amusement of any kind, - but say 13_s._ yearly. I thus account for £19 yearly, leaving £6 - for savings. One or two other things deserve, I think, a slight - notice. What is the character required of a mechanic or labourer? - None. What of a servant? Is he honest, sober, steady, religious, - cleanly, active, industrious, an early riser? Is he married? Wo - be to the poor fellow who does not answer yes to this category - of requests, save the last! The answer is, Your character does - not suit; you will not do for me. Again: does a servant forget - himself for once only, and get tipsy?—he is ruined for life. In - a word, sir, a thorough servant must be sober, steady, honest, - and single; 'he must never marry, must never be absent from his - duties, must attend to his master in sickness or in health, must - be reviled and never reply, must be young, able, good-tempered, - and willing, and think himself overpaid, if at the year's end he - has 5_s._ to put in his pocket. In old age or sickness he may go - to the workhouse, the only asylum open. In youth he has plenty - of the best, and can get one service when he leaves another, if - his character is good; but when youth deserts him, and age and - sickness creep on, what refuge is there for him? No one will have - him. He is too old for service, that is his answer. In service - he is trusted with valuable articles of every description; and - in what state of life, whether servant or artisan, surely he - who is placed in situations of trust deserves a trifle more of - recompense than is sufficient to pay his way and no more." - -We have mentioned, in other chapters, some instances of the cruel -treatment of parish children apprenticed to trades. We have also -evidence that those who are hound out as servants are subjected to the -most brutal tyranny. Occasionally, when the cases become so outrageous -as to be noised abroad, investigations are held; but these instances -are few compared with the vast number of cases of cruel treatment of -which the public are permitted to hear nothing. - -In the latter part of December, 1850, one Mr. Sloane, a special -pleader, residing in the Middle Temple, was guilty of the most -frightful cruelty to a servant-girl named Jane Wilbred, formerly an -inmate of the West London Union. The girl, or some of her friends, -complained, and Mr. Sloane was brought before Alderman Humphrey, -at Guildhall. During the examination, evidence of the most brutal -treatment of the poor girl was given, and such was the nature of the -statements made on oath that the fury of the people was aroused. Mr. -Sloane was committed for trial. When he was conveyed to the Compter the -mob attacked the cab, and seemed determined to apply Lynch law. But the -wretch was safely deposited in prison, through the exertions of the -police. He was tried, convicted, and sentenced to imprisonment; but -whether he served out his sentence we are not informed. This was one -case of punishment for a thousand of impunity. - -So great was the indignation of the people at the developments made -upon the trial of Sloane, that some measure of alleviation in regard -to parish apprentices and servants was deemed necessary. The Earl -of Carlisle, (late Lord Morpeth), brought in a bill in the House of -Commons, the object of which was to compel the parish guardians and the -binding magistrates to watch over and protect the helpless servants and -apprentices. The bill was passed by Parliament; but it is inoperative -and ineffectual. Parish guardians are too glad to get the children -off their hands to take any steps which might retard the desired -consummation; and the children can easily be prevented from making -complaints to magistrates by the threats of masters and mistresses, and -the common fear of consequences. In this case, as in all legislation -concerning the poor, the Parliament of Great Britain has proceeded upon -the same principle as the physician who applies external remedies for -diseases which have internal causes. Instead of endeavouring to remove -the great causes of pauperism—the monopolies of the aristocracy—it -only seeks to render the paupers easier in their condition. - -Mr. Mayhew, in his "London Labour and the London Poor," shows that a -large number of the vagrants of London and other English cities, are -young persons who have been servants, and have run away in consequence -of ill-treatment. Rather than be constantly treated as slaves, the -boys prefer to be vagabonds and the girls prostitutes. They then enjoy -a wild kind of freedom, which, with all its filth and vice, has some -share of pleasure, unknown to those who move at the beck of a master or -mistress, and live in constant dread of the rod. - -In those countries where society is untainted with aristocracy, the -servant when performing duties is respected as a human being—with a -mind to think and a heart to feel—one to be reprimanded or discharged -from service for neglect or positive wrong, but never beaten as a -soulless beast. In England, the servant, to hold a place, must be a -most abject, cringing, and submissive slave. In some countries, the -taint of negro blood keeps a man always in the position of an inferior. -In England, the man of "serf blood," though he be a Celt or Saxon, is -ever treated as a hind by the man of "noble blood;" and the possession -of this same "noble blood" justifies the most infamous scoundrel in -treating his domestics, not only with contempt, but positive cruelty. -Americans have been charged with having an undying horror of the negro -taint. In England, the _common_ blood is just as steadily abhorred by -the dominant class. The slavery of servants—their hopeless, abject, -and demoralizing condition—is the result, direct and unmistakable, of -the existence of the aristocracy. When the serfs are completely freed; -when the country is no longer ruled by a few thousand persons; when -a long line of ancestry and magnificent escutcheons cease to dignify -imbeciles and blackguards; in short, when England takes a few steps -upon that glorious path which the great American republic has hewn for -the nations of the earth—there will be sure respect for man, as man; -and the servants may have some hope of improving their condition. - - - - -CHAPTER IX. - -MENTAL AND MORAL CONDITION OF THE WHITE SLAVES IN GREAT BRITAIN. - - -The moral degradation and mental darkness of the labouring classes in -Great Britain in the middle of the Nineteenth century, are appalling to -contemplate. Beneath the wing of a government professedly Christian, -there is sheltered a vast number of people who must be characterized -as heathen—as fit subjects of missionary labours, such as are freely -given to the dark sons of India and Africa. They know nothing of God -but his prevailing name; and the Bible's light is hid from them as -completely as if its pages were inscribed with Egyptian hieroglyphics. -Their code of morals is the creature of their sensual inclinations; -their intelligence seemingly the superior instinct of the animal. -Scotland is far beyond other portions of Great Britain in the moral and -mental cultivation of its people; but there is a large class in that -country to which the above observations may be justly applied. - -According to Kay, more than half the poor in England and Wales cannot -read and write, while the majority of the remainder know nothing of -science, history, geography, music, or drawing, and very little of the -Scripture history. In the great mercantile and manufacturing towns, -it is true that poor men, if they defer their marriage, and have no -extraordinary encumbrances, may improve their condition; but scarcely -any facilities are offered for their acquiring the intelligence -necessary for the control of passion. The schools in the towns are -wretchedly arranged and managed. Many are nothing more than "dame -schools," conducted often in cellars or garrets, by poor women, who -know how to read, but who often know nothing else. The schools for the -peasants are still fewer in number, and inefficient in character; and -hence the result, that the English peasantry are more ignorant and -demoralized, less capable of helping themselves, and more pauperized, -than those of any other country in Europe, if we except Russia, Turkey, -South Italy, and some parts of the Austrian Empire. A writer in a -recent number of "Household Words," makes some remarkable statements in -regard to the ignorance of the English masses:— - - "Wherever we turn, ignorance, not always allied to poverty, - stares us in the face. If we look in the Gazette, at the list - of partnerships dissolved, not a month passes but some unhappy - man, rolling perhaps in wealth, but wallowing in ignorance, - is put to the _experimentum crucis_ of 'his mark,' The number - of petty jurors—in rural districts especially—who can only - sign with a cross is enormous. It is not unusual to see parish - documents of great local importance defaced with the same - humiliating symbol by persons whose office shows them to be - not only 'men of mark,' but men of substance. We have printed - already specimens of the partial ignorance which passes under - the ken of the post-office authorities, and we may venture to - assert, that such specimens of penmanship and orthography are - not to be matched in any other country in Europe. A housewife - in humble life need only turn to the file of her tradesmen's - bills to discover hieroglyphics which render them so many - arithmetical puzzles. In short, the practical evidences of the - low ebb to which the plainest rudiments of education in this - country has fallen, are too common to bear repetition. We cannot - pass through the streets, we cannot enter a place of public - assembly, or ramble in the fields, without the gloomy shadow - of Ignorance sweeping over us. The rural population is indeed - in a worse plight than the other classes. We quote—with the - attestation of our own experience—the following passage from - one of a series of articles which have recently appeared in - a morning newspaper: 'Taking the adult class of agricultural - labourers, it is almost impossible to exaggerate the ignorance in - which they live and move and have their being. As they work in - the fields, the external world has some hold upon them through - the medium of their senses; but to all the higher exercises of - intellect they are perfect strangers. You cannot address one of - them without being at once painfully struck with the intellectual - darkness which enshrouds him. There is in general neither - speculation in his eyes nor intelligence in his countenance. The - whole expression is more that of an animal than of a man. He is - wanting, too, in the erect and independent bearing of a man. When - you accost him, if he is not insolent—which he seldom is—he - is timid and shrinking, his whole manner showing that he feels - himself at a distance from you greater than should separate any - two classes of men. He is often doubtful when you address, and - suspicious when you question him; he is seemingly oppressed with - the interview while it lasts, and obviously relieved when it is - over. These are the traits which I can affirm them to possess as - a class, after having come in contact with many hundreds of farm - labourers. They belong to a generation for whose intellectual - culture little or nothing was done. As a class, they have no - amusements beyond the indulgence of sense. In nine cases out of - ten, recreation is associated in their minds with nothing higher - than sensuality. I have frequently asked clergymen and others, if - they often find the adult peasant reading for his own or others' - amusement? The invariable answer is, that such a sight is seldom - or never witnessed. In the first place, _the great bulk of them - cannot read_. In the next, a large proportion of those who can, - do so with too much difficulty to admit of the exercise being - an amusement to them. Again, few of those who can read with - comparative ease, have the taste for doing so. It is but justice - to them to say that many of those who cannot read have bitterly - regretted, in my hearing, their inability to do so. I shall never - forget the tone in which an old woman in Cornwall intimated to - me what a comfort it would now be to her could she only read her - Bible in her lonely hours.'" - -From statistics given by Kay, it is apparent that the proportional -amount of crime to population, calculated in two years, 1841 and 1847, -was greater in almost all the agricultural counties of England than it -was in the mining and manufacturing districts. The peasants of England -must be subjected to a singularly demoralizing system to produce so -terrible a result. The extreme poverty of the agricultural labourers -is the great stimulant to crime of all kinds; but the darkness of -ignorance is also a powerful agent. Poverty renders the peasants -desperate, and they are too ignorant to see the consequences of crime. - -In a former part of this work, it was mentioned that the miserable -cottages in which the peasants are compelled to reside have -considerable influence in demoralizing them. This deserves to be fully -illustrated. The majority of the cottages have but two small rooms; -in one of which husband and wife, young men and young women, boys and -girls, and, very often, a married son and his wife all sleep together. -Kay says— - - "The accounts we receive from all parts of the country show - that these miserable cottages are crowded to an extreme, and - that the crowding is progressively increasing. People of both - sexes, and of all ages, both married and unmarried—parents, - brothers, sisters, and strangers—sleep in the same rooms and - often in the same beds. One gentlemen tells us of six people of - different sexes and ages, two of whom were man and wife, sleeping - in the same bed, three with their heads at the top and three - with their heads at the foot of the bed. Another tells us of - adult uncles and nieces sleeping in the same room close to each - other; another, of the uncles and nieces sleeping in the same - bed together; another, of adult brothers and sisters sleeping - in the same room with a brother and his wife just married; many - tell us of adult brothers and sisters sleeping in the same beds; - another tells us of rooms so filled with beds that there is no - space between them, but that brothers, sisters, and parents - crawl over each other half naked in order to get to their - respective resting-places; another, of its being common for men - and women, not being relations, to undress together in the same - room, without any feeling of its being indelicate; another, of - cases where women have been delivered in bedrooms crowded with - men, young women, and children; and others mention facts of - these crowded bedrooms much too horrible to be alluded to. Nor - are these solitary instances, but similar reports are given by - gentlemen writing in ALL parts of the country." - -The young peasants from their earliest years are accustomed to sleep -in the same bedrooms with people of both sexes; and they lose all -sense of the indecency of such a life, taking wives before they are -twenty years of age to sleep in the same room with their parents. The -policy now pursued by the aristocratic landlords, of clearing their -estates, tends to crowd the cottages which are allowed to remain, and -thus the demoralization of the peasantry is stimulated. Adultery is the -very mildest form of the vast amount of crime which it is engendering. -Magistrates, clergymen, surgeons, and parish-officers bear witness -that cases of incest are increasing in all parts of the country. -An eminent writer represents the consequences of the state of the -peasant's cottages in England and Wales in the following startling, but -unexaggerated terms:— - - "A man and woman intermarry, and take a cottage. In eight cases - out of ten it is a cottage with but two rooms. For a time, so - far as room at least is concerned, this answers their purpose; - but they take it, not because it is at the time sufficiently - spacious for them, but because they could not procure a more - roomy dwelling, even if they desired it. In this they pass with - tolerable comfort, considering their notions of what comfort - is, the first period of married life; but, by-and-by they have - children, and the family increases, until, in the course of a few - years, they number, perhaps, from eight to ten individuals. But - in all this time there has been no increase to their household - accommodation. As at first, so to the very last, there is but the - ONE SLEEPING-ROOM. As the family increases, additional beds are - crammed into this apartment, until at last it is so filled with - them, that there is scarcely room left to move between them. _I - have known instances in which they had to crawl over each other - to get to their beds._ So long as the children are very young, - the only evil connected with this is the physical one arising - from crowding so many people together into what is generally - a dingy, frequently a damp, and invariably an ill-ventilated - apartment. But years steal on, and the family continues thus - bedded together. Some of its members may yet be in their infancy, - but others of both sexes have crossed the line of puberty. But - there they are, still together in the same room—the father and - mother, the sons and the daughters—young men, young women, - and children. Cousins, too, of both sexes, are often thrown - together into the same room, _and not unfrequently into the - same bed_. I have also known of cases in which uncles slept in - the same room with their grown-up nieces, and newly-married - couples occupied the same chamber with those long married, and - with others marriageable but unmarried. A case also came to my - notice, already alluded to in connection with another branch of - the subject, in which two sisters, who were married on the same - day, occupied adjoining rooms in the same hut, with nothing but - a thin board partition, which did not reach the ceiling, between - the two rooms, and a door in the partition which only partly - filled up the doorway. For years back, in these same two rooms, - have slept twelve people of both sexes and all ages. Sometimes, - when there is but one room, a praiseworthy effort is made for - the conservation of decency. But the hanging up of a piece of - tattered cloth between the beds, which is generally all that is - done in this respect, and even that but seldom, is but a poor - set-off to the fact, that a family, which, in common decency, - should, as regards sleeping accommodations, be separated at - least into three divisions, occupy, night after night, but one - and the same chamber. This is a frightful position for them - to be in when an infectious or epidemic disease enters their - abode. But this, important though it be, is the least important - consideration connected with their circumstances. That which - is most so, is the effect produced by them upon their habits - and morals. In the illicit intercourse to which such a position - frequently gives rise, _it is not always that the tie of blood - is respected_. Certain it is, that when the relationship is even - but one degree removed from that of brother and sister, that tie - is frequently overlooked. And when the circumstances do not lead - to such horrible consequences, the mind, particularly of the - female, is wholly divested of that sense of delicacy and shame, - which, so long as they are preserved, are the chief safeguards of - her chastity. She therefore falls an early and an easy prey to - the temptations which beset her beyond the immediate circle of - her family. People in the other spheres of life are but little - aware of the extent to which this precocious demoralization of - the female among the lower orders in the country has proceeded. - But how could it be otherwise? The philanthropist may exert - himself in their behalf, the moralist may inculcate even the - worldly advantages of a better course of life, and the minister - of religion may warn them of the eternal penalties which they - are incurring; but there is an instructor constantly at work, - more potent than them all—an instructor in mischief, of which - they must get rid ere they can make any real progress in their - laudable efforts—and that is, _the single bedchamber in the - two-roomed cottage_." - -But such cottages will continue to be the dwellings of the peasantry -until the system of lord and serf is abolished, until they can obtain -ground of their own, and have no fear of eviction at a moment's notice. -It has often been a matter of wonder that there is less discontent and -murmuring among the miserable peasants than among the workmen in the -manufacturing towns. The reason lies upon the surface. The workmen in -the factories are generally more intelligent than the agricultural -labourers, and have a keen feeling of their degradation. It requires a -certain degree of elevation to render a man discontented. The wallowing -pig is satisfied. - -We need not be surprised to find that where so much misery prevails -crime is frightfully frequent. The "Times" of the 30th of November, -1849, shows the terrible increase of crime in the last few years in -Dorsetshire. The "Times" says— - - "We yesterday published, in a very short compass, some grave - particulars of the unfortunate county of Dorset. It is not - simply the old story of wages inadequate for life, hovels unfit - for habitation, and misery and sin alternately claiming our - pity and our disgust. This state of things is so normal, and - we really believe so immemorial in that notorious county, that - we should rather deaden than excite the anxiety of the public - by a thrice-told tale. What compels our attention just now is - a sudden, rapid, and, we fear, a forced aggravation of these - evils, measured by the infallible test of crime. Dorsetshire is - fast sinking into a slough of wretchedness, which threatens the - peace and morality of the kingdom at large. The total number of - convictions, which - - "In 1846 was 798, and - "In 1847 was 821, mounted up, - "In 1848, to 950; - - "and up to the special general session, last Tuesday, (Dec. - 1849,) for less than eleven months of the present year, to the - astonishing number of 1193, being at the rate of 1300 for the - whole year! Unless something is done to stop this flood of crime, - or the tide happily turns of itself, the county will have more - than _doubled_ its convictions within four years! Nor is it - possible for us to take refuge in the thought that the increase - is in petty offences. In no respect is it a light thing for a - poor creature to be sent to jail, whatever be the offence. He - has broken the laws of his country, and forfeited his character. - His name and his morals are alike tainted with the jail. He is - degraded and corrupted. If his spirit be not crushed, it is - exasperated into perpetual hostility to wealth and power. - - * * * * * - - "It is, then, no light affair that a rural county, the abode of - an ancient and respectable aristocracy, somewhat removed from - the popular influences of the age, with a population of 175,043 - by the late census, should produce in four years near 4000 - convictions, being at the rate of one conviction in that period - for every sixty persons, or every twelve householders." - -We might express our doubts of the real respectability of the ancient -aristocracy of Dorsetshire. They do not injure society in a way of -which the laws take notice; but had they nothing to do with the making -of the 4000 criminals? In 1834, an English writer estimated that about -120,000 of the people were always in jail. At the present time the -number is still greater. - -The humane and able author of "Letters on Rural Districts," published -in the "Morning Chronicle" of London, thus speaks of the frightful -immorality among the agricultural population of Norfolk and Suffolk -counties:— - - "One species of immorality, which is peculiarly prevalent in - Norfolk and Suffolk, is that of bastardy. With the exception - of Hereford and Cumberland, there are no counties in which the - percentage of bastardy is so high as it is in Norfolk—being - there 53.1 per cent. above the average of England and Wales; in - Suffolk it is 27 per cent. above, and in Essex 19.1 per cent. - below the average. In the two first-named counties, and even in - the latter one, though not to the same extent, _there appears to - be a perfect want of decency among the people_. 'The immorality - of the young women,' said the rector of one parish to me, 'is - literally horrible, and I regret to say it is on the increase in - a most extraordinary degree. When I first came to the town, the - mother of a bastard child used to be ashamed to show herself. The - case is now quite altered; no person seems to think any thing at - all of it. When I first came to the town, there was no such thing - as a common prostitute in it; now there is an enormous number - of them. When I am called upon to see a woman confined with an - illegitimate child, I endeavour to impress upon her the enormity - of the offence; and there are no cases in which I receive more - insult from those I visit than from such persons. They generally - say they'll get on as well, after all that's said about it; and - if they never do any thing worse than that, they shall get to - heaven as well as other people.' Another clergyman stated to me, - that he never recollected an instance of his having married a - woman who was not either pregnant at the time of her marriage, - or had had one or more children before her marriage. Again, a - third clergyman told me, that he went to baptize the illegitimate - child of one woman, who was thirty-five years of age, and it - was absolutely impossible for him to convince her that what she - had done was wrong. 'There appears,' said he, 'to be among the - lower orders a perfect deadness of all moral feeling upon this - subject.' Many of the cases of this kind, which have come under - my knowledge, evince such horrible depravity, that I dare not - attempt to lay them before the reader. Speaking to the wife of a - respectable labourer on the subject, who had seven children, one - of whom was then confined with an illegitimate child, she excused - her daughter's conduct by saying, 'What was the poor girl to do! - The chaps say that they won't marry 'em first, and then the girls - give way. I did the same myself with my husband.' There was one - case in Cossey, in Norfolk, in which the woman told me, without a - blush crimsoning her cheek, that her daughter and self had each - had a child by a sweep, who lodged with them, and who promised - to marry the daughter. The cottage in which these persons slept - consisted of but one room, and there were two other lodgers who - occupied beds in the same room; in one of which 'a young woman - occasionally slept with the young man she was keeping company - with.' The other lodger was an old woman of seventy-four years - of age. To such an extent is prostitution carried on in Norwich, - that out of the 656 licensed public-houses and beer-shops in the - city, there are not less than 220, which are known to the police - as common brothels. And, although the authorities have the power - of withholding the licenses, nothing is done to put a stop to the - frightful vice." - -A want of chastity is universal among the female peasants of Wales, -arising chiefly from the herding of many persons in the small cottages. -In the vicinity of the mines, the average of inhabitants to a house is -said to be nearly twelve. The Rev. John Griffith, vicar of Aberdare, -says— - - "Nothing can be lower, I would say more degrading, than the - character in which the women stand relative to the men. The men - and the women, married as well as single, live in the same house, - _and sleep in the same room_. The men do not hesitate to wash - themselves naked before the women; on the other hand, the women - do not hesitate to change their under garments before the men. - Promiscuous intercourse is most common, is thought of as nothing, - and the women do not lose caste by it." - -The Welsh are peculiarly exempt from the guilt of great crimes. -But petty thefts, lying, cozening, every species of chicanery and -drunkenness are common among the agricultural population, and are -regarded as matters of course. - -Infanticide is practised to a terrible extent in England and Wales. In -most of the large provincial towns, "burial clubs" exist. A small sum -is paid every year by the parent, and this entitles him to receive from -£3 to £5 from the club on the death of the child. Many persons enter -their children in several clubs; and, as the burial of the child does -not necessarily cost more than £1, or at the most £1 10_s._, the parent -realizes a considerable sum after all the expenses are paid. For the -sake of this money, it has become common to cause the death of the -children, either by starvation, ill-usage, or poison. No more horrible -symptom of moral degradation could be conceived. - - "Mr. Chadwick says,[101] 'officers of these burial societies, - relieving officers, and others, whose administrative duties put - them in communication with the lowest classes in these districts, - (the manufacturing districts,) express their moral conviction - of the operation of such bounties to produce instances of the - visible neglect of children of which they are witnesses. They - often say—You are not treating that child properly, it will not - live; _is it in the club_? And the answer corresponds with the - impression produced by the sight. - - "'Mr. Gardiner, the clerk of the Manchester union, while - registering the causes of death, deemed the cause assigned by - a labouring man for the death of a child unsatisfactory, and - staying to inquire, found that popular rumour assigned the death - to wilful starvation. The child (according to a statement of the - case) had been entered in at least _ten_ burial clubs; _and its - parents had had six other children, who only lived from nine to - eighteen months respectively_. They had received from several - burial clubs twenty pounds for _one_ of these children, and they - expected at least as much on account of this child. An inquest - was held at Mr. Gardiner's instance, when several persons, who - had known the deceased, stated that she was a fine fat child - shortly after her birth, but that she soon became quite thin, was - badly clothed, and seemed as if she did not get a sufficiency of - food.... The jury, having expressed it as their opinion that the - evidence of the parents was made up for the occasion and entitled - to no credit, returned the following verdict:—Died through want - of nourishment, but whether occasioned by a deficiency of food, - or by disease of the liver and spine brought on by improper food - and drink or otherwise, does not appear. - - "'Two similar cases came before Mr. Coppock, the clerk and - superintendent-registrar of the Stockport union, in both of which - he prosecuted the parties for murder. In one case, where three - children had been poisoned with arsenic, the father was tried - with the mother and convicted at Chester, and sentenced to be - transported for life, but the mother was acquitted. In the other - case, where the judge summed up for a conviction, the accused, - the father, was, to the astonishment of every one, acquitted. - In this case the body was exhumed after interment, and _arsenic - was detected in the stomach_. In consequence of the suspicion - raised upon the death on which the accusation was made in the - first case, the bodies of two other children were taken up and - examined, when _arsenic was found in their stomachs_. In all - these cases payments on the deaths of the children were insured - from the burial clubs; the cost of the coffin and burial dues - would not be more than about one pound, and the allowance from - the club is three pounds. - - "'It is remarked on these dreadful cases by the - superintendent-registrar, _that the children who were boys, and - therefore likely to be useful to the parents, were not poisoned_; - the female children were the victims. It was the clear opinion - of the medical officers that infanticides have been committed in - Stockport to obtain the burial money.'" - -Such parents must be placed upon a level with the swine that devour -their farrow. We are led to doubt whether they could sink much lower -in the animal scale; poverty and ignorance seem to have thoroughly -quenched the spark of humanity. The author of "Letters on Labour, and -the Poor in the Rural Districts," writing of the burial clubs in the -eastern counties, says: - - "The suspicion that a great deal of 'foul play' exists with - respect to these clubs is supported, not only by a comparison - of the different rates of mortality, but it is considerably - strengthened by the facts proved upon the trial of Mary May. - The Rev. Mr. Wilkins, the vicar of Wickes, who was mainly - instrumental in bringing the case before a court of justice, - stated to me that, from the time of Mary May coming to live in - his parish, he was determined to keep a very strict watch upon - her movements, as he had heard that _fourteen of her children had - previously died suddenly_. - - "A few weeks after her arrival in his parish, she called upon - him to request him to bury one of her children. Upon his asking - her which of the children it was, she told him that it was - Eliza, a fine healthy-looking child of ten years old. Upon his - expressing some surprise that she should have died so suddenly, - she said, 'Oh, sir, she went off like a snuff; all my other - children did so too.' A short time elapsed, and she again waited - upon the vicar to request him to bury her brother as soon as - he could. His suspicions were aroused, and he endeavoured to - postpone the funeral for a few days, in order to enable him to - make some inquiries. Not succeeding in obtaining any information - which would warrant further delay in burying the corpse, he most - reluctantly proceeded in the discharge of his duty. - - "About a week after the funeral, Mary May again waited upon him - to request him to sign a certificate to the effect that her - brother was in perfect health a fortnight before he died, that - being the time at which, as it subsequently appeared, she had - entered him as nominee in the Harwich Burial Club. Upon inquiring - as to the reason of her desiring this certificate, she told him - that, unless she got it, she could not get the money for him from - the club. This at once supplied the vicar with what appeared - to be a motive for 'foul play' on the part of the woman. He - accordingly obtained permission to have the body of her brother - exhumed; doses of arsenic were detected, and the woman was - arrested. With the evidence given upon the trial the reader is, - no doubt, perfectly conversant, and it will be unnecessary for - me to detail it. She was convicted. Previously to her execution - she refused to make any confession, but said, 'If I were to tell - all I know, it would give the hangman work for the next twelve - months.' Undue weight ought not to be attached to the declaration - of such a woman as Mary May; but, coupled with the disclosures - that took place upon the trial with respect to some of her - neighbours and accomplices, and with the extraordinary rate of - mortality among the clubs, it certainly does appear that the - general opinion with respect to the mischievous effects of these - societies is not altogether without foundation. - - "Although there are not in Essex, at present, any burial clubs - in which children are admitted under fourteen years of age as - members or nominees, still, as illustrating the evils arising - from these clubs, I may state that many persons who are fully - conversant with the working of such institutions have stated that - they have frequently been shocked by hearing women of the lower - classes, when speaking of a neighbour's child, make use of such - expressions as, 'Oh, depend upon it, the child'll not live; it's - in the burial club.' When speaking to the parents of a child who - may be unwell, it is not unfrequently that they say, 'You should - do so and so,' or, 'You should not do so and so;' '_You should - not treat it in that way; is it in the burial club_?' Instances - of the most culpable neglect, if not of graver offences, are - continually occurring in districts where clubs exist in which - children are admitted. A collector of one of the most extensive - burial societies gave it as his opinion, founded upon his - experience, that it had become a constant practice to neglect the - children for the sake of the allowance from the clubs; and he - supported his opinion by several cases which had come under his - own observation." - -A vast number of other facts, of equally shocking character, have -been ascertained. The Rev. J. Clay, chaplain of the Preston House of -Correction, in a sanitary report, makes some statements of a nature to -startle:— - - "It appears, on the unimpeachable authority of a burial-club - official, that '_hired nurses speculate on the lives of infants - committed to their care, by entering them in burial clubs_;' that - 'two young women proposed to enter a child into his club, and - to pay the weekly premium alternately. Upon inquiring as to the - relation subsisting between the two young women and the child, he - learned that the infant was placed at nurse with the mother of - one of these young women,' The wife of a clergymen told me that, - visiting a poor district just when a child's death had occurred, - instead of hearing from the neighbours the language of sympathy - for the bereaved parent, she was shocked by such observations - as—'Ah! it's a fine thing for the mother, the child's in two - clubs!' - - "As regards one town, I possess some evidence of the amount of - burial-club membership and of infant mortality, which I beg to - lay before you. The reports of this town refer to 1846, when - the population of the town amounted to about 61,000. I do not - name the town, because, as no actual burial-club murders are - known to have been committed in it, and as such clubs are not - more patronized there than in other places, it is, perhaps, not - fair to hold it up to particular animadversion; indeed, as to - its general character, this very town need not fear comparison - with any other. Now this place, with its sixty-one thousand - people of all classes and ages, maintains at least eleven burial - clubs, the members of which amount in the aggregate to nearly - fifty-two thousand; nor are these all. Sick clubs, remember, act - as burial clubs. Of these there are twelve or fourteen in the - town, mustering altogether, probably, two thousand members. Here, - then, we have good data for comparing population with '_death - lists_;' but it will be necessary, in making the comparison, to - deduct from the population all that part of it which has nothing - to do with these clubs, viz. all infants under two months old, - and all persons of unsound health, (both of these classes being - excluded by the club rules;) all those also of the working - classes, whose sound intelligence and feeling lead them to abhor - burial-club temptations; and all the better classes, to whom five - or twenty pounds offer no consolation for the death of a child. - On the hypothesis that these deductions will amount to one-sixth - of the entire population, it results that the _death lists_ - are more numerous by far than the entire mass—old, young, and - infants—which support them; and, according to the statement of a - leading death-list officer, _three-fourths_ of the names on these - catalogues of the doomed are the names of children. Now, if this - be the truth—and I believe it is—hundreds, if not thousands - of children must be entered each into _four_, _five_, or even - _twelve_ clubs, their chances of life diminishing, of course, - in proportion to the frequency with which they are entered. Lest - you should imagine that such excessive addiction to burial clubs - is only to be found in one place, I furnish you with a report for - 1846, of a single club, which then boasted thirty-four thousand - one hundred members, _the entire population of the town to which - it belongs having been, in 1841, little more than thirty-six - thousand_!" - -The authorities from whom these statements are derived are of the -highest respectability; they hear witness to a state of affairs -scarcely to be conceived by people of other civilized countries. -Hundreds of thousands of human beings seem to be driven into an awful -abyss of crime and misery by the iron rule of the aristocracy—an -abyss where mothers forget maternal feelings, where marriage vows are -scoffed, and where the momentary gratification of brutal passions is -alone esteemed. There, indeed, there is no fear of God, and heathenism -spreads its upas shade to poison and destroy. - -The only amusement which the English poor possess in many parts of the -country, is to visit taverns. In the towns the "gin-palaces" and the -beer-houses are very numerous; and whenever the poor have leisure, -these places are thronged by drunken men and abandoned women. In all -the rural districts there is a frightful amount of drunkenness. British -legislation has increased the number of these hot-beds of crime and -pauperism. - - "In the beginning of the revolutionary war the duties on malt - were _augmented_, and in 1825 the duties on spirits were - _decreased_. It was thus that whisky was substituted for ale as - the beverage of the Scotch, and that gin and brandy began to be - generally drunk by the English poor. - - "The consumption of spirits immediately increased in a tremendous - proportion. From 4,132,263 gallons, the consumption in 1825, it - rose in one year to 8,888,648 gallons; that is, the consumption - was _in one year_ more than _doubled_ by the change; and from - that period, with the exception of the year next following, viz. - 1827, the consumption has been progressively augmenting. - - "Since that time the noted beer-shop act has been passed. By that - act, any one was enabled to obtain a license to enable him to - sell beer, whether the person desirous of doing so was a person - of respectable character or not. - - "But this was the least of the evils which were effected by that - act. A clause, which was still more injurious, was that which - prescribed that the liquor _must be drunk upon the premises of - the beer-house_, i. e. either in the beer-house or on a bench - just outside the door. - - "This has the effect in many cases, where the poor would - otherwise take the beer home to their own cottages, of forcing - the young men who wish to have a little to drink, to sit down and - take it in the society of the worst people of the neighbourhood, - who always, as a matter of course, spend their leisure in the - tavern. I am convinced that nothing can be more injurious in its - effects upon the poor than this clause. It may be said to _force_ - the honest labourers into the society and companionship of the - most depraved, and so necessarily to demoralize the young and - honest labourer. - - "The following is the number of gallons of _native_ proof spirits - on which duty was paid for home consumption in the United - Kingdom, in the undermentioned years:— - - Years. Gallons. - - 1843 18,841,890 - 1844 20,608,525 - 1845 23,122,588 - 1846 24,106,697 - - - "To the above must be added the number of gallons of foreign and - colonial spirits retained for home consumption, as follows:— - - ┌───────┬────────────────────────┬──────────────────────────────┐ - │ │ │ No. of Gallons of Home │ - │ Years.│ No. of Gallons of │ and Foreign Spirits consumed │ - │ │ Foreign, &c. Spirits. │ in the United Kingdom. │ - ├———————┼————————————————————————┼——————————————————————————————┤ - │ 1843 │ 3,161,957 │ 22,026,289 │ - │ 1844 │ 3,242,606 │ 22,042,905 │ - │ 1845 │ 3,549,889 │ 26,672,477 │ - │ 1846 │ 4,252,237 │ 28,360,934 │ - └———————┴————————————————————————┴——————————————————————————————┘ - - "From the above statistics it appears that the consumption of - spirits in the United Kingdom is increasing much more rapidly - than the population! - - "The number of licenses granted to retailers of spirits or beer - amounted, in 1845, to 237,345; that is, there was to be found, - in 1845, a retailer of beer or spirits in every 115 of the - population! Of the beer licenses, 68,086 were for dwellings rated - under £20 per annum, and 35,340 were licenses for premises rated - under £10 per annum! This shows how large a proportion of the - beer-shops are situated in the poorest districts, for the use of - the poorest classes.[102] - -There is a section of London, which in 1847 had 2000 inhabitants, one -butcher's shop, two bakers' shops, and seventeen beer-houses. The total -cost of the spirits and beer consumed in the United Kingdom was, in -1848, estimated at £65,000,000, a sum greater, by several millions, -than the whole revenue of the government. The inimitable Dickens has -given us a vivid sketch of a London gin-palace and its attendants. He -says— - - "The extensive scale on which these places are established, - and the ostentatious manner in which the business of even the - smallest among them is divided into branches, is most amusing. - A handsome plate of ground glass in one door directs you 'To - the Counting-house;' another to the 'Bottle Department;' a - third to the 'Wholesale Department,' a fourth to the 'Wine - Promenade;' and so forth, until we are in daily expectation - of meeting with a 'Brandy Bell,' or a 'Whisky Entrance.' Then - ingenuity is exhausted in devising attractive titles for the - different descriptions of gin; and the dram-drinking portion of - the community, as they gaze upon the gigantic black and white - announcements, which are only to be equalled in size by the - figures beneath them, are left in a state of pleasing hesitation - between 'The Cream of the Valley,' 'The Out and Out,' 'The No - Mistake,' 'The Good for Mixing,' 'The real Knock-me-down,' 'The - celebrated Butter Gin,' 'The regular Flare-up,' and a dozen other - equally inviting and wholesome _liqueurs_. Although places of - this description are to be met with in every second street, they - are invariably numerous and splendid in precise proportion to the - dirt and poverty of the surrounding neighbourhood. The gin-shops - in and near Drury-lane, Holborn, St. Giles's, Covent-garden, and - Clare-market, are the handsomest in London. There is more of - filth and squalid misery near those great thoroughfares than in - any part of this mighty city. - - "We will endeavour to sketch the bar of a large gin-shop, and its - ordinary customers, for the edification of such of our readers as - may not have had opportunities of observing such scenes; and on - the chance of finding one well suited to our purpose we will make - for Drury-lane, through the narrow streets and dirty courts which - divide it from Oxford street, and that classical spot adjoining - the brewery at the bottom of Tottenham-court-road, best known to - the initiated as the 'Rookery.' - - "The filthy and miserable appearance of this part of London - can hardly be imagined by those (and there are many such) who - have not witnessed it. Wretched houses with broken windows - patched with rags and paper, every room let out to a different - family, and in many instances to two or even three; fruit - and 'sweet-stuff' manufacturers in the cellars, barbers and - red-herring venders in the front parlours, and cobblers in the - back; a bird-fancier in the first floor, three families on the - second, starvation in the attics, Irishmen in the passage; a - 'musician' in the front kitchen, and a charwoman and five hungry - children in the back one—filth everywhere—a gutter before the - houses and a drain behind them—clothes drying and slops emptying - from the windows; girls of fourteen or fifteen with matted hair, - walking about barefooted, and in white great-coats, almost their - only covering; boys of all ages, in coats of all sizes and no - coats at all; men and women, in every variety of scanty and dirty - apparel, lounging, scolding, drinking, smoking, squabbling, - fighting, and swearing. - - "You turn the corner, what a change! All is light and brilliancy. - The hum of many voices issues from that splendid gin-shop which - forms the commencement of the two streets opposite, and the - gay building with the fantastically ornamented parapet, the - illuminated clock, the plate-glass windows surrounded by stucco - rosettes, and its profusion of gas-lights in richly gilt burners, - is perfectly dazzling when contrasted with the darkness and dirt - we have just left. The interior is even gayer than the exterior. - A bar of French polished mahogany, elegantly carved, extends the - whole width of the place; and there are two side-aisles of great - casks, painted green and gold, enclosed within a light brass - rail, and bearing such inscriptions as 'Old Tom, 549;' 'Young - Tom, 360;' 'Samson, 1421.' Beyond the bar is a lofty and spacious - saloon, full of the same enticing vessels, with a gallery running - round it, equally well furnished. On the counter, in addition - to the usual spirit apparatus, are two or three little baskets - of cakes and biscuits, which are carefully secured at the top - with wicker-work, to prevent their contents being unlawfully - abstracted. Behind it are two showily-dressed damsels with large - necklaces, dispensing the spirits and 'compounds.' They are - assisted by the ostensible proprietor of the concern, a stout - coarse fellow in a fur cap, put on very much on one side, to give - him a knowing air, and display his sandy whiskers to the best - advantage. - - "It is growing late, and the throng of men, women, and children, - who have been constantly going in and out, dwindles down to - two or three occasional stragglers—cold, wretched-looking - creatures, in the last stage of emaciation and disease. The knot - of Irish labourers at the lower end of the place, who have been - alternately shaking hands with, and threatening the life of, each - other for the last hour, become furious in their disputes, and - finding it impossible to silence one man, who is particularly - anxious to adjust the difference, they resort to the infallible - expedient of knocking him down and jumping on him afterward. - The man in the fur cap and the potboy rush out; a scene of riot - and confusion ensues; half the Irishmen get shut out, and the - other half get shut in; the potboy is knocked among the tubs - in no time; the landlord hits everybody, and everybody hits - the landlord; the barmaids scream; the police come in; and the - rest is a confused mixture of arms, legs, staves, torn coats, - shouting, and struggling. Some of the party are borne off to the - station-house, and the remainder slink home to beat their wives - for complaining, and kick the children for daring to be hungry." - -The neglected and frightfully wretched condition of a great part of -the juvenile population in the British towns has frequently excited -the attention of philanthropic Englishmen. On the 6th of June, 1848, -Lord Ashley made a speech on juvenile destitution in the House of -Commons, in which he drew an awful picture of misery and degradation. -He showed that in the midst of London there is a large and continually -increasing number of lawless persons, forming a separate class, having -pursuits, interests, manners, and customs of their own. These are quite -independent of the number of mere pauper children who crowd the streets -of London, and who never attend a school. The lawless class were -estimated by Lord Ashley to number thirty thousand. - - "Of 1600 who were examined, 162 confessed that they had been in - prison, not merely once, or even twice, but some of them several - times; 116 had run away from their homes; 170 slept in the - 'lodging houses;' 253 had lived altogether by beggary; 216 had - neither shoes nor stockings; 280 had no hat or cap, or covering - for the head; 101 had no linen; 249 had never slept in a bed; - many had no recollection of ever having been in a bed; 68 were - the children of convicts. - - "In 1847 it was found that of 4000 examined, 400 confessed that - they had been in prison, 660 lived by beggary, 178 were the - children of convicts, and 800 had lost one or both their parents. - Now, what was the employment of these people? They might be - classed as street-sweepers; vendors of lucifer matches, oranges, - cigars, tapes, and ballads; they held horses, ran errands, - jobbed for 'dealers in marine stores,' that being the euphonious - term for receivers of stolen goods—an influential race in the - metropolis, but for whose agency a very large proportion of - juvenile crime would be extinguished. It might be asked, how did - the large number who never slept in bed pass the night? In all - manner of places: under dry arches of bridges and viaducts, under - porticos, sheds, carts in outhouses, sawpits, or staircases, or - in the open air, and some in lodging-houses. Curious, indeed, was - their mode of life. One boy, during the inclement period of 1847, - passed the greater part of his nights in the large iron roller in - the Regent's Park. He climbed over the railings, and crept to the - roller, where he lay in comparative security. - - "Lord Ashley says, 'many of them were living in the dry arches - of houses not finished, inaccessible except by an aperture, - only large enough to admit the body of a man. When a lantern - was thrust in, six or eight, ten or twelve people might be - found lying together. Of those whom we found thus lodged, we - invited a great number to come the following day, and there - an examination was instituted. The number examined was 33. - Their ages varied from 12 to 18, and some were younger. 24 had - no parents, 6 had one, 3 had stepmothers, 20 had no shirts, 9 - no shoes, 12 had been once in prison, 3 twice, 3 four times, 1 - eight times, and 1 (only 14 years old) twelve times. The physical - condition of these children was exceedingly bad; they were a - prey to vermin, they were troubled with itch, they were begrimed - with dirt, not a few were suffering from sickness, and two or - three days afterward several died from disease and the effects - of starvation. I privately examined eight or ten. I was anxious - to obtain from them the truth. I examined them separately, - taking them into a room alone. I said, "I am going to ask you - a variety of questions, to which I trust you will give me true - answers, and I will undertake to answer any question you may - put." They thought that a fair bargain. I put to several of - them the question, "How often have you slept in a bed during - the last three years?" One said, perhaps twelve times, another - three times, another could not remember that he ever had. I - asked them, how they passed the night in winter. They said, "We - lie eight or ten together, to keep ourselves warm." I entered - on the subject of their employments and modes of living. They - fairly confessed they had no means of subsistence but begging - and stealing. The only way of earning a penny in a legitimate - way was by picking up old bones. But they fairly acknowledged - for themselves and others scattered over the town, with whom - they professed themselves acquainted, that they had not and - could not have any other means of subsistence than by begging - and stealing. A large proportion of these young persons were at - a most dangerous age for society. What was the moral condition - of those persons? A large proportion of them (it was no fault - of theirs) did not recognise the distinctive rights of _meum_ - and _tuum_. Property appeared to them to be only the aggregate - of plunder. They held that every thing which was possessed was - common stock; that he who got most was the cleverest fellow, and - that every one had a right to abstract from that stock what he - could by his own ingenuity. Was it matter of surprise that they - entertained those notions, which were instilled into their minds - from the time they were able to creep on all fours—that not only - did they disregard all the rights of property, but gloried in - doing so, unless they thought the avowal would bring them within - the grasp of the law. To illustrate their low state of morality, - and to show how utterly shameless they were in speaking on these - subjects, I would, mention what had passed at a ragged school - to which fourteen or fifteen boys, having presented themselves - on a Sunday evening, were admitted as they came. They sat down, - and the lesson proceeded. The clock struck eight. They all rose - with the exception of one little boy. The master took him by the - arm and said, "You must remain; the lesson is not over." The - reply was, "We must go to business." The master inquired what - business? "We must all go to catch them as they come out of the - chapels." It was necessary for them, according to the remark of - this boy, to go at a certain time in pursuit of their calling. - They had no remorse or shame, in making the avowal, because they - believed that there were no other means of saving themselves - from starvation. I recollect a very graphic remark made by one - of those children in perfect simplicity, but which yet showed - the horrors of their position. The master had been pointing out - to him the terrors of punishment in after-life. The remark of - the boy was, "That may be so, but I don't think it can be any - worse than this world has been to me." Such was the condition of - hundreds and thousands.'" - -A large number of the depraved children live in what are called the -"lodging-houses." Most Americans have heard of the "Old Brewery" at the -Five Points in New York city, where more than two hundred persons of -all ages and sexes were crowded together. Such lodging-houses as this, -(which fortunately has been destroyed,) are common in London and the -provincial towns of Great Britain. Mr. Mayhew, in his "London Labour -and the London Poor," has given us very full information concerning -them. He obtained much of it from one who had passed some time among -the dens of infamy. He says of these lodging-houses— - - "'They have generally a spacious, though often ill-ventilated - kitchen, the dirty, dilapidated walls of which are hung with - prints, while a shelf or two are generally, though barely, - furnished with crockery and kitchen utensils. In some places - knives and forks are not provided, unless a penny is left with - the "deputy," or manager, till they are returned. A brush of any - kind is a stranger, and a looking-glass would be a miracle. The - average number of nightly lodgers is in winter seventy, in the - summer (when many visit the provinces) from forty to forty-five. - The general charge is, if two sleep together, 3_d._ per night, or - 4_d._ for a single bed. In either case, it is by no means unusual - to find eighteen or twenty in one small room, the heat and horrid - smell from which are insufferable; and, where there are young - children, the staircases are the lodgment of every kind of filth - and abomination. In some houses there are rooms for families, - where, on a rickety machine, which they dignify by the name of a - bedstead, may be found the man, his wife, and a son or daughter, - perhaps eighteen years of age; while the younger children, aged - from seven to fourteen, sleep on the floor. If they have linen, - they take it off to escape vermin, and rise naked, one by one, - or sometimes brother and sister together. This is no ideal - picture; the subject is too capable of being authenticated to - need any meaningless or dishonest assistance called "allowable - exaggeration." The amiable and deservedly popular minister of a - district church, built among lodging-houses, has stated that he - has found twenty-nine human beings in one apartment; and that - having with difficulty knelt down between two beds to pray with a - dying woman, his legs became so jammed that he could hardly get - up again. - - "'Out of some fourscore such habitations,' continues my - informant, 'I have only found _two_ which had any sort of garden; - and, I am happy to add, that in neither of these two was there - a single case of cholera. In the others, however, the pestilence - raged with terrible fury.'" - -There are other lodging-houses still lower in character than those -described above, and where there is a total absence of cleanliness -and decency. A man who had slept in these places, gave the following -account to Mr. Mayhew:— - - "He had slept in rooms so crammed with sleepers—he believed - there were thirty where twelve would have been a proper - number—that their breaths in the dead of night and in the - unventilated chamber, rose (I use his own words) 'in one foul, - choking steam of stench.' This was the case most frequently a - day or two prior to Greenwich Fair or Epsom Races, when the - congregation of the wandering classes, who are the supporters of - the low lodging-houses, was the thickest. It was not only that - two or even three persons jammed themselves into a bed not too - large for one full-sized man; but between the beds—and their - partition one from another admitted little more than the passage - of a lodger—were placed shakedowns, or temporary accommodation - for nightly slumber. In the better lodging-houses the shakedowns - are small palliasses or mattrasses; in the worst they are bundles - of rags of any kind; but loose straw is used only in the country - for shakedowns. Our informant saw a traveller, who had arrived - late, eye his shakedown in one of the worst houses with any thing - but a pleased expression of countenance; and a surly deputy, - observing this, told the customer he had his choice, 'which,' the - deputy added, 'is not as all men has, or I shouldn't have been - waiting here on you. But you has your choice, I tell you;—sleep - there on that shakedown, or turn out and be—; that's fair.' - At some of the busiest periods, numbers sleep on the kitchen - floor, all huddled together, men and women, (when indecencies are - common enough,) and without bedding or any thing but their scanty - clothes to soften the hardness of the stone or brick floor. A - penny is saved to the lodger by this means. More than two hundred - have been accommodated in this way in a large house. The Irish, - in harvest-time, very often resort to this mode of passing the - night. - - "I heard from several parties, of the surprise, and even fear or - horror, with which a decent mechanic—more especially if he were - accompanied by his wife—regarded one of these foul dens, when - destitution had driven him there for the first time in his life. - Sometimes such a man was seen to leave the place abruptly, though - perhaps he had prepaid his last halfpenny for the refreshment - of a night's repose. Sometimes he was seized with sickness. I - heard also from some educated persons who had 'seen better days,' - of the disgust with themselves and with the world, which they - felt on first entering such places. 'And I have some reason to - believe,' said one man, 'that a person, once well off, who has - sunk into the very depths of poverty, often makes his first - appearance in one of the worst of those places. Perhaps it is - because he keeps away from them as long as he can, and then, in - a sort of desperation fit, goes into the cheapest he can meet - with; or if he knows it's a vile place, he very likely says to - himself—as I did—"I may as well know the worst at once."' - - "Another man, who had moved in good society, said, when asked - about his resorting to a low lodging-house: 'When a man's lost - caste in society, he may as well go the whole hog, bristles and - all, and a low lodging-house is the entire pig.' - - "Notwithstanding many abominations, I am assured that the - lodgers, in even the worst of these habitations, for the most - part, sleep soundly. But they have, in all probability, been - out in the open air the whole of the day, and all of them may - go to their couches, after having walked, perhaps, many miles, - exceedingly fatigued, and some of them half drunk. 'Why, in - course, sir,' said a 'traveller,' whom I spoke to on this - subject, 'if you is in a country town or village, where there's - only one lodging-house, perhaps, and that a bad one—an old hand - can always suit hisself in London—you _must_ get half drunk, or - your money for your bed is wasted. There's so much rest owing - to you, after a hard day; and bugs and bad air'll prevent its - being paid, if you don't lay in some stock of beer, or liquor - of some sort, to sleep on. It's a duty you owes yourself; but, - if you haven't the browns, why, then, in course, you can't pay - it.' I have before remarked, and, indeed, have given instances, - of the odd and sometimes original manner in which an intelligent - patterer, for example, will express himself. - - "The information I obtained in the course of this inquiry into - the condition of low lodging-houses, afforded a most ample - corroboration of the truth of a remark I have more than once - found it necessary to make before—that persons of the vagrant - class will sacrifice almost any thing for warmth, not to say - heat. Otherwise, to sleep, or even sit, in some of the apartments - of these establishments would be intolerable. - - "From the frequent state of weariness to which I have alluded, - there is generally less conversation among the frequenters of - the low lodging-houses than might be expected. Some are busy - cooking, some (in the better houses) are reading, many are drowsy - and nodding, and many are smoking. In perhaps a dozen places - of the worst and filthiest class, indeed, smoking is permitted - even in the sleeping-rooms; but it is far less common than it - was even half-a-dozen years back, and becomes still less common - yearly. Notwithstanding so dangerous a practice, fires are and - have been very unfrequent in these places. There is always some - one awake, which is one reason. The lack of conversation, I ought - to add, and the weariness and drowsiness, are less observable in - the lodging-houses patronized by thieves and women of abandoned - character, whose lives are comparatively idle, and whose labour - a mere nothing. In their houses, if their conversation be at all - general, it is often of the most unclean character. At other - times it is carried on in groups, with abundance of whispers, - shrugs, and slang, by the members of the respective schools of - thieves or lurkers." - - * * * * * - - "The licentiousness of the frequenters, and more especially the - juvenile frequenters, of the low lodging-houses, must be even - more briefly alluded to. In some of these establishments, men - and women, boys and girls,—but perhaps in no case, or in very - rare cases, unless they are themselves consenting parties, herd - together promiscuously. The information which I have given from a - reverend informant indicates the nature of the proceedings, when - the sexes are herded indiscriminately, and it is impossible to - present to the reader, in full particularity, the records of the - vice practised. - - "Boys have boastfully carried on loud conversations, and from - distant parts of the room, of their triumphs over the virtue of - girls, and girls have laughed at and encouraged the recital. - Three, four, five, six, and even more boys and girls have been - packed, head and feet, into one small bed; some of them perhaps - never met before. On such occasions any clothing seems often - enough to be regarded as merely an encumbrance. Sometimes there - are loud quarrels and revilings from the jealousy of boys and - girls, and more especially of girls whose 'chaps' have deserted - or been inveigled from them. At others, there is an amicable - interchange of partners, and next day a resumption of their - former companionship. One girl, then fifteen or sixteen, who had - been leading this vicious kind of life for nearly three years, - and had been repeatedly in prison, and twice in hospitals—and - who expressed a strong desire to 'get out of the life' by - emigration—said: 'Whatever that's bad and wicked, that any one - can fancy could be done in such places among boys and girls - that's never been taught, or won't be taught, better, _is_ done, - and night after night.' In these haunts of low iniquity, or - rather in the room into which the children are put, there are - seldom persons above twenty. The young lodgers in such places - live by thieving and pocket-picking, or by prostitution. The - charge for a night's lodging is generally 2_d._, but smaller - children have often been admitted for 1_d._ If a boy or girl - resort to one of these dens at night without the means of - defraying the charge for accommodation, the 'mot of the ken' - (mistress of the house) will pack them off, telling them plainly - that it will be no use their returning until they have stolen - something worth 2_d._ If a boy or girl do not return in the - evening, and have not been heard to express their intention of - going elsewhere, the first conclusion arrived at by their mates - is that they have 'got into trouble,' (prison.) - - "The indiscriminate admixture of the sexes among adults, in many - of these places, is another evil. Even in some houses considered - of the better sort, men and women, husbands and wives, old and - young, strangers and acquaintances, sleep in the same apartment, - and if they choose, in the same bed. Any remonstrance at some act - of gross depravity, or impropriety, on the part of a woman not so - utterly hardened as the others, is met with abuse and derision. - One man who described these scenes to me, and had long witnessed - them, said that almost the only women who ever hid their faces or - manifested dislike of the proceedings they could not but notice, - (as far as he saw,) were poor Irishwomen, generally those who - live by begging: 'But for all that,' the man added, 'an Irishman - or Irishwoman of that sort will sleep anywhere, in any mess, to - save a halfpenny, though they may have often a few shillings, or - a good many, hidden about them.'" - -The recent report of Captain Hays, "on the operation of the Common -Lodging-house Act," presents some appalling facts:— - - "Up to the end of February, it was ascertained that 3100 persons, - mostly Irishmen, in the very heart of the metropolis, lodged - every night, 84,000 individuals in 3712 rooms. The instances - enumerated are heart sickening. In a small room in Rosemary - lane, near the Tower, fourteen adults were sleeping on the floor - without any partition or regard to decency. In an apartment - in Church lane, St. Giles, not fifteen feet square, were - thirty-seven women and children, all huddled together on the - floor. There are thousands of similar cases. The eastern portion - of London, comprising Whitechapel, Spitalfields, and Mile-end—an - unknown land to all of the decent classes—is filled with a - swarming population of above 300,000 beggars, costermongers, - thieves, ragsellers, Jews, and the like. A single court is a fair - example of this whole district. It contains eight houses of two - rooms each. Three hundred persons—men, women, and children—live - there. There is only one place of convenience; and one hydrant, - which is served half an hour each day. The condition of this - court may be imagined; it is too filthy to describe. Decayed - matter, stagnant water, refuse fish, vegetables, broken baskets, - dead cats, dogs, and rats, are strewed everywhere around. The - prices of various kinds of provision in these neighbourhoods give - a forcible notion of the condition of the population. You can - purchase for a halfpenny fish or meat enough for a dinner. - - "In this neighbourhood is Rag Fair. It is worth a visit. - Thousands of persons are assembled in the streets, which are so - thickly covered with merchandise that it is difficult to step - along without treading on heaps of gowns, shawls, bonnets, shoes, - and articles of men's attire. There is no conceivable article of - dress that may not be purchased here. It is not without danger - that one even visits the place at noonday. You are in the midst - of the refuse of all London,—of a whole race, whose chief - employment is to commit depredations upon property, and whose - lives are spent in the midst of a squalor, filth, deprivation - and degradation, which the whole world cannot probably parallel. - One of the London missionaries says—'Persons who are accustomed - to run up heavy bills at the shops of fashionable tailors and - milliners will scarcely believe the sums for which the poor are - able to purchase the same kind of articles. I have recently - clothed a man and woman, both decently, for the sum of nine - shillings. There is as great a variety of articles in pattern, - shape, and size, as could be found in any draper's shop in - London. The mother may go to _Rag Fair_, with the whole of her - family, both boys and girls—yes, and her husband, too—and for - a very few shillings deck them out from top to toe. I have no - doubt that a man and his wife, and five or six children, with £1 - would purchase for themselves an entire change. This may appear - an exaggeration; but I actually overheard a conversation, in - which two women were trying to bargain for a child's frock; the - sum asked was 1½_d._, and the sum offered was 1_d._, and they - parted on the difference.' - - "The following is a bill delivered by a dealer to one of the - missionaries, who was requested to supply a suit of clothes for a - man and woman whom he had persuaded to get married several years - after the right time:— - - _s._ _d._ - A full linen-fronted shirt, very elegant 0 6 - A pair of warm worsted stockings 0 1 - A pair of light-coloured trousers 0 6 - A black cloth waistcoat 0 3 - A pair of white cotton braces 0 1 - A pair of low shoes 0 1 - A black silk velvet stock 0 1 - A black beaver, fly-fronted, double-breasted paletot coat, - lined with silk, a very superior article 1 6 - A cloth cap, bound with a figured band 0 1 - A pair of black cloth gloves 0 1 - — — - 3 3 - - "The man had been educated, and could speak no fewer than five - languages; by profession he was, however, nothing but a dusthill - raker. - - "The bill delivered for the bride's costume is as follows: - - A shift 0 1 - A pair of stays 0 2 - A flannel petticoat 0 4 - A black Orleans ditto 0 4 - A pair of white cotton stockings 0 1 - A very good light-coloured cotton gown 0 10 - A pair of single-soled slippers, with spring heels 0 2 - A double-dyed bonnet, including a neat cap 0 2 - A pair of white cotton gloves 0 1 - A lady's green silk paletot, lined with crimson silk, - trimmed with black 0 10 - — —— - 3 1" - -Throughout the country there are low lodging-houses, which do not -differ much in character from those of London. In all of them the most -disgusting immorality is practised to an extent scarcely conceivable by -those who do not visit such dens of vice and misery. - -The story of the Jew Fagan, and his felonious operations, in Dickens's -Oliver Twist, is a true representation of a most extensive business -in London. There are a large number of notorious receivers of stolen -goods. Some of them keep a number of boys, who are instructed in -stealing, and beaten severely when unsuccessful. Mayhew mentions one -notorious case in George-yard. A wooden-legged Welshman, named Hughes, -and commonly called Taff, was the miscreant. Two little boys were his -chief agents in stealing, and when they did not obtain any thing, he -would take the strap off his wooden leg, and beat them through the -nakedness of their rags. He boarded and lodged about a dozen Chelsea -and Greenwich pensioners. These he followed and watched closely until -they were paid. Then, after they had settled with him, he would make -them drunk and rob them of the few shillings they had left. - -The brutal treatment of servants, which we have already touched, drives -many of them to the low lodging-houses, and to the commission of crime. -In the following narrative, which a girl communicated to Mr. Mayhew, -we have an illustration of this assertion, as well as some awful -disclosures in regard to "life among the lowly:"— - - "'I am an orphan. When I was ten I was sent to service as a maid - of all-work, in a small tradesman's family. It was a hard place, - and my mistress used me very cruelly, beating me often. When I - had been in place three weeks, my mother died; my father having - died twelve years before. I stood my mistress's ill-treatment - about six months. She beat me with sticks as well as with her - hands. I was black and blue, and at last I ran away. I got - to Mrs. —, a low lodging-house. I didn't know before that - there was such a place. I heard of it from some girls at the - Glasshouse, (baths and wash-houses,) where I went for shelter. - I went with them to have a halfpenny worth of coffee, and they - took me to the lodging-house. I then had three shillings, and - stayed about a month, and did nothing wrong, living on the three - shillings and what I pawned my clothes for, as I got some pretty - good things away with me. In the lodging-house I saw nothing but - what was bad, and heard nothing but what was bad. I was laughed - at, and was told to swear. They said, 'Look at her for a d— - modest fool'—sometimes worse than that, until by degrees I - got to be as bad as they were. During this time I used to see - boys and girls from ten to twelve years old sleeping together, - but understood nothing wrong. I had never heard of such places - before I ran away. I can neither read nor write. My mother was a - good woman, and I wish I'd had her to run away to. I saw things - between almost children that I can't describe to you—very often - I saw them, and that shocked me. At the month's end, when I was - beat out, I met with a young man of fifteen—I myself was going - on to twelve years old—and he persuaded me to take up with him. - I stayed with him three months in the same lodging-house, living - with him as his wife, though we were mere children, and being - true to him. At the three months' end he was taken up for picking - pockets, and got six months. I was sorry, for he was kind to - me; though I was made ill through him; so I broke some windows - in St. Paul's churchyard to get into prison to get cured. I had - a month in the Compter, and came out well. I was scolded very - much in the Compter, on account of the state I was in, being so - young. I had 2_s._ 6_d._ given to me when I came out, and was - forced to go into the streets for a living. I continued walking - the streets for three years, sometimes making a good deal of - money, sometimes none, feasting one day and starving the next. - The bigger girls could persuade me to do any thing they liked - with my money. I was never happy all the time, but I could - get no character, and could not get out of the life. I lodged - all this time at a lodging-house in Kent-street. They were all - thieves and bad girls. I have known between three and four dozen - boys and girls sleep in one room. The beds were horrid filthy and - full of vermin. There was very wicked carryings on. The boys, if - any difference, was the worst. We lay packed, on a full night, a - dozen boys and girls squeedged into one bed. That was very often - the case—some at the foot and some at the top—boys and girls - all mixed. I can't go into all the particulars, but whatever - could take place in words or acts between boys and girls did take - place, and in the midst of the others. I am sorry to say I took - part in these bad ways myself, but I wasn't so bad as some of the - others. There was only a candle burning all night, but in summer - it was light great part of the night. Some boys and girls slept - without any clothes, and would dance about the room that way. I - have seen them, and, wicked as I was, felt ashamed. I have seen - two dozen capering about the room that way; some mere children, - the boys generally the youngest. * * * There were no men or women - present. There were often fights. The deputy never interfered. - This is carried on just the same as ever to this day, and is - the same every night. I have heard young girls shout out to one - another how often they had been obliged to go to the hospital, - or the infirmary, or the workhouse. There was a great deal of - boasting about what the boys and girls had stolen during the - day. I have known boys and girls change their 'partners,' just - for a night. At three years' end I stole a piece of beef from a - butcher. I did it to get into prison. I was sick of the life I - was leading, and didn't know how to get out of it. I had a month - for stealing. When I got out I passed two days and a night in - the streets doing nothing wrong, and then went and threatened to - break Messrs. —'s windows again. I did that to get into prison - again; for when I lay quiet of a night in prison I thought things - over, and considered what a shocking life I was leading, and how - my health might be ruined completely, and I thought I would stick - to prison rather than go back to such a life. I got six months - for threatening. When I got out I broke a lamp next morning for - the same purpose, and had a fortnight. That was the last time - I was in prison. I have since been leading the same life as I - told you of for the three years, and lodging at the same houses, - and seeing the same goings on. I hate such a life now more than - ever. I am willing to do any work that I can in washing and - cleaning. I can do a little at my needle. I could do hard work, - for I have good health. I used to wash and clean in prison, and - always behaved myself there. At the house where I am it is 3_d._ - a night; but at Mrs. —'s it is 1_d._ and 2_d._ a night, and - just the same goings on. Many a girl—nearly all of them—goes - out into the streets from this penny and twopenny house, to get - money for their favourite boys by prostitution. If the girl can - not get money she must steal something, or will be beaten by her - 'chap' when she comes home. I have seen them beaten, often kicked - and beaten until they were blind from bloodshot, and their teeth - knocked out with kicks from boots as the girl lays on the ground. - The boys, in their turn, are out thieving all day, and the - lodging-house keeper will buy any stolen provisions of them, and - sell them to the lodgers. I never saw the police in the house. If - a boy comes to the house on a night without money or sawney, or - something to sell to the lodgers, a handkerchief or something of - that kind, he is not admitted, but told very plainly, 'Go thieve - it, then,' Girls are treated just the same. Anybody may call in - the daytime at this house and have a halfpenny worth of coffee - and sit any length of time until evening. I have seen three dozen - sitting there that way, all thieves and bad girls. There are - no chairs, and only one form in front of the fire, on which a - dozen can sit. The others sit on the floor all about the room, - as near the fire as they can. Bad language goes on during the - day, as I told you it did during the night, and indecencies too, - but nothing like so bad as at night. They talk about where there - is good places to go and thieve. The missioners call sometimes, - but they're laughed at often when they're talking, and always - before the door's closed on them. If a decent girl goes there to - get a ha'porth of coffee, seeing the board over the door, she is - always shocked. Many a poor girl has been ruined in this house - since I was, and boys have boasted about it. I never knew boy or - girl do good, once get used there. Get used there, indeed, and - you are life-ruined. I was an only child, and haven't a friend - in the world. I have heard several girls say how they would - like to get out of the life, and out of the place. From those I - know, I think that cruel parents and mistresses cause many to - be driven there. One lodging-house keeper, Mrs. —, goes out - dressed respectable, and pawns any stolen property, or sells it - at public-houses.' - - "As a corroboration of the girl's statement, a wretched-looking - boy, only thirteen years of age, gave me the following additional - information. He had a few rags hanging about him, and no - shirt—indeed, he was hardly covered enough for purposes of - decency, his skin being exposed through the rents in his jacket - and trousers. He had a stepfather, who treated him very cruelly. - The stepfather and the child's mother went 'across the country,' - begging and stealing. Before the mother died, an elder brother - ran away on account of being beaten. - - "'Sometimes,' I give his own words, 'he (the stepfather) wouldn't - give us a bit to eat, telling us to go and thieve for it. My - brother had been a month gone (he's now a soldier in Gibraltar) - when I ran away to join him. I knew where to find him, as we - met sometimes. We lived by thieving, and I do still—by pulling - flesh, (stealing meat.) I got to lodge at Mrs. —, and have - been there this eight months. I can read and write a little.' - This boy then confirmed what the young girl had told me of the - grossest acts night by night among the boys and girls, the - language, &c., and continued:—'I always sleep on the floor for - 1_d._, and pay ½_d._ besides for coke. At this lodging-house - cats and kittens are melted down, sometimes twenty a day. A quart - pot is a cat, and pints and half-pints are kittens. A kitten - (pint) brings 3_d._ from the rag-shops, and a cat 6_d._ There's - convenience to melt them down at the lodging-house. We can't sell - clothes in the house, except any lodger wants them; and clothes - nearly all go to the Jews in Petticoat-lane. Mrs. — buys the - sawney of us; so much for the lump, 2_d._ a pound about; she - sells it again for twice what she gives, and more. Perhaps 30 - lbs. of meat every day is sold to her. I have been in prison six - times, and have had three dozen; each time I came out harder. If - I left Mrs. —'s house I don't know how I could get my living. - Lots of boys would get away if they could. I never drink. I don't - like it. Very few of us boys drink. I don't like thieving, and - often go about singing; but I can't live by singing, and I don't - know how I could live honestly. If I had money enough to buy a - stock of oranges, I think I could be honest.'" - -Mr. Mayhew called a meeting of thieves and beggars at the Bristol -Union School-room, Shakspeare Walk, Shadwell. One hundred and fifty -of them—all under twenty years of age—attended. It may be doubted -whether such a meeting could have been brought about in any other -city. The young thieves and beggars were very fair samples of their -numerous class. Of professed beggars, there were fifty; and sixty-six -acknowledged themselves habitual thieves. The announcement that the -greater number present were thieves, pleased them exceedingly, and was -received with three rounds of applause! Fourteen of them had been in -prison over twenty times, and twenty stated that they had been flogged -in prison. Seventy-eight of them regularly roamed through the country -every year; sixty-five slept regularly in the casual wards of the -Unions; and fifty-two occasionally slept in trampers' lodging-houses -throughout the country. - -The ignorance prevailing among the vast number of street-sellers in -London, is rather comically illustrated by Mr. Mayhew, in the following -instance:— - - "One boy gave me his notions of men and things. He was a - thick-limbed, red-cheeked fellow; answered very freely, and - sometimes, when I could not help laughing at his replies, laughed - loudly himself, as if he entered into the joke. - - "Yes, he had heer'd of God who made the world. Couldn't exactly - recollec' when he'd heerd on him, but he had, most sarten-ly. - Didn't know when the world was made, or how anybody could do it. - It must have taken a long time. It was afore his time, 'or yourn - either, sir.' Knew there was a book called the Bible; didn't - know what it was about; didn't mind to know; knew of such a book - to a sartinty, because a young 'oman took one to pop (pawn) - for an old 'oman what was on the spree—a bran new 'un—but - the cove wouldn't have it, and the old 'oman said he might be - d—d. Never heer'd tell on the deluge, of the world having - been drownded; it couldn't, for there wasn't water enough to do - it. He weren't a going to fret hisself for such things as that. - Didn't know what happened to people after death, only that they - was buried. Had seen a dead body laid out; was a little afeared - at first; poor Dick looked so different, and when you touched his - face he was so cold! oh, so cold! Had heer'd on another world; - wouldn't mind if he was there hisself, if he could do better, for - things was often queer here. Had heer'd on it from a tailor—such - a clever cove, a stunner—as went to 'Straliar, (Australia,) - and heer'd him say he was going into another world. Had never - heer'd of France, but had heer'd of Frenchmen; there wasn't half - a quarter so many on 'em as of Italians, with their ear-rings - like flash gals. Didn't dislike foreigners, for he never saw - none. What was they? Had heer'd of Ireland. Didn't know where - it was, but it couldn't be very far, or such lots wouldn't come - from there to London. Should say they walked it, ay, every bit - of the way, for he'd seen them come in all covered with dust. - Had heer'd of people going to sea, and had seen the ships in the - river, but didn't know nothing about it, for he was very seldom - that way. The sun was made of fire, or it wouldn't make you feel - so warm. The stars was fire, too, or they wouldn't shine. They - didn't make it warm, they was too small. Didn't know any use they - was of. Didn't know how far they was off; a jolly lot higher - than the gas lights some on 'em was. Was never in a church; had - heer'd they worshipped God there; didn't know how it was done; - had heer'd singing and praying inside when he'd passed; never was - there, for he hadn't no togs to go in, and wouldn't be let in - among such swells as he had seen coming out. Was a ignorant chap, - for he'd never been to school, but was up to many a move, and - didn't do bad. Mother said he would make his fortin yet. - - "Had heer'd of the Duke of Wellington; he was Old Nosey; didn't - think he ever seed him, but had seen his statty. Hadn't heer'd - of the battle of Waterloo, nor who it was atween; once lived - in Webber-row, Waterloo-road. Thought he had heer'd speak of - Bonaparte; didn't know what he was; thought he'd heer'd of - Shakspeare, but didn't know whether he was alive or dead, and - didn't care. A man with something like that name kept a dolly - and did stunning; but he was sich a hard cove that if _he_ was - dead it wouldn't matter. Had seen the queen, but didn't recollec' - her name just at the minute; oh! yes, Wictoria and Albert. Had - no notion what the queen had to do. Should think she hadn't such - power [he had first to ask me what 'power' was] as the lord - mayor, or as Mr. Norton as was the Lambeth beak, and perhaps is - still. Was never once before a beak, and didn't want to. Hated - the crushers; what business had they to interfere with him if he - was only resting his basket in a street? Had been once to the - Wick, and once to the Bower; liked tumbling better; he meant to - have a little pleasure when the peas came in." - -The vagabond propensities of the street-children are thus described by -Mr. Mayhew:— - - "As soon as the warm weather commences, boys and girls, but more - especially boys, leave the town in shoals, traversing the country - in every direction; some furnished with trifling articles (such - as I have already enumerated) to sell, and others to begging, - lurking, or thieving. It is not the street-sellers who so much - resort to the tramp, as those who are devoid of the commonest - notions of honesty; a quality these young vagrants sometimes - respect when in fear of a jail, and the hard work with which such - a place is identified in their minds—and to which, with the - peculiar idiosyncrasy of a roving race, they have an insuperable - objection. - - "I have met with boys and girls, however, to whom a jail had no - terrors, and to whom, when in prison, there was only one dread, - and that a common one among the ignorant, whether with or without - any sense of religion—superstition. 'I lay in prison of a night, - sir,' said a boy who was generally among the briskest of his - class, 'and think I shall see things.' The 'things' represent - the vague fears which many, not naturally stupid, but untaught - or ill-taught persons, entertain in the dark. A girl, a perfect - termagant in the breaking of windows and suchlike offences, told - me something of the same kind. She spoke well of the treatment - she experienced in prison, and seemed to have a liking for the - matron and officials; her conduct there was quiet and respectful. - I believe she was not addicted to drink. - - "Many of the girls, as well as the boys, of course trade as - they 'tramp.' They often sell, both in the country and in town, - little necklaces composed of red berries strung together upon - thick thread, for dolls and children; but although I have asked - several of them, I have never yet found one who collected the - berries and made the necklaces themselves; neither have I met - with a single instance in which the girl vendors knew the name - of the berries thus used, nor indeed even that they _were_ - berries. The invariable reply to my questions upon this point - has been that they 'are called necklaces;' that 'they are just - as they sells 'em to us;' that they 'don't know whether they are - made or whether they grow;' and in most cases, that they 'gets - them in London, by Shoreditch;' although in one case a little - brown-complexioned girl, with bright sparkling eyes, said that - 'she got them from the gipsies.' At first I fancied, from this - child's appearance, that she was rather superior in intellect to - most of her class; but I soon found that she was not a whit above - the others, unless, indeed, it were in the possession of the - quality of cunning." - -The regular "tramps," or wandering vagabonds, are very numerous -throughout Great Britain. At certain periods they issue from all the -large towns, and prey upon the rural districts like swarms of locusts. -In no other country can be found so constant a class of vagrants. The -gipsies form but a small portion of the "tramps." These vagrants are -miserably clothed, filthy, covered with vermin, and generally very -much diseased—sometimes from debauchery, and sometimes from want -of food and from exposure. Very few of them are married. The women -are nearly all prostitutes. The manner of life of these wanderers is -curious. They beg during the day in the towns, or along the roads; -and they so arrange their day's tramp as to arrive, most nights, in -the neighbourhood of the workhouses. They then hide the money they -have collected by begging, and present themselves, after sunset, at -the gates of the workhouse, to beg a night's lodging. To nearly every -workhouse there are attached vagrant wards, or buildings which are -specially set apart for the reception of tramps such as those we have -described. These wards are commonly brick buildings, of one story -in height. They have brick floors and guard-room beds, with loose -straw and rugs for the males, and iron bedsteads, with straw, for the -females. They are badly ventilated, and unprovided with any means for -producing warmth. All holes for ventilation are sure to be stopped up -at night, by the occupants, with rags or straw, so that the stench -of these sleeping-places is disgusting in the extreme. Guards are -appointed for these wards, but such is the immorality and indecency -of the vagrants, that the most disgusting scenes are common in them. -The wards resound with the vilest songs and the foulest language; and -so numerous are the "tramps" that the guardians find it impossible -to separate the sexes. This vast evil of vagrancy is constantly -increasing, and is a natural result of the monopolies and oppressions -of the aristocracy. It is stated that on the 25th of March, 1848, the -626 Unions of England and Wales relieved 16,086 vagrants. But this -scarcely gives an idea of the magnitude of the evil. Between 40,000 -and 50,000 "tramps" infest the roads and streets of England and Wales -every day. The majority of them are thieves, and nearly all are almost -brutally ignorant. - -In London there are large numbers of small dealers, called -costermongers and patterers. Persons belonging to these classes seldom -or never rise above their trade, and they seem to have a kind of -hereditary pride in their degraded position. Many of the costermongers -and patterers are thieves, and the general character of these classes -is very debased; ignorance and immorality prevail to a fearful -extent. The patterers are more intelligent than the costermongers, -but they are also more immoral. They help off their wares, which are -chiefly stationery and quack medicines, by long harangues, while the -costermongers merely cry their fish, greens, &c. about the streets. -The number of people dependent upon costermongering in London is about -thirty thousand. The patterers are not so numerous. - -Concubinage is the rule and marriage the exception among both -costermongers and patterers. Mr. Mayhew estimates that only one-tenth -of the couples living together and carrying on the costermongering -trade are married. There is no honour attached to the marriage state -and no shame to concubinage. In good times the women are rigidly -faithful to their paramours, but in the worst pinch of poverty a -departure from fidelity is not considered heinous. About three out of -a hundred costermongers ever attend a church, and the majority of them -have no knowledge of Christianity; they associate the Church of England -and aristocracy, and hate both. Slang is acquired very rapidly, and -some costermongers will converse in it by the hour. The women use it -sparingly; the girls more than the women; the men more than the girls; -and the boys most of all. Pronouncing backward is the simple principle -upon which the costermonger slang is founded. - -The patterers, though a vagrant, are an organized class. Mr. Mayhew -says— - - "There is a telegraphic despatch between them, through the - length and breadth of the land. If two patterers (previously - unacquainted) meet in the provinces, the following, or something - like it, will be their conversation:—Can you 'voker romeny' - (can you speak cant?) What is your 'monekeer?' (name.) Perhaps - it turns out that one is 'White-headed Bob,' and the other - 'Plymouth Ned,' They have a 'shant of gatter' (pot of beer) - at the nearest 'boozing ken,' (ale-house,) and swear eternal - friendship to each other. The old saying, that 'When the - liquor is in the wit is out,' is remarkably fulfilled on these - occasions, for they betray to the 'flatties' (natives) all their - profits and proceedings. - - "It is to be supposed that in country districts, where there are - no streets, the patterer is obliged to call at the houses. As - they are mostly without the hawker's license, and sometimes find - wet linen before it is lost, the rural districts are not fond - of their visits; and there are generally two or three persons - in a village reported to be 'gammy,' that is, unfavourable. If - a patterer has been 'crabbed,' that is, offended, at any of the - 'cribs,' (houses,) he mostly chalks a signal on or near the door. - I give one or two instances:— - - "'Bone,' meaning good. - - "'Cooper'd,' spoiled by the imprudence of some other patterer. - - "'Gammy,' likely to have you taken up. - - "'Flummut,' sure of a month in quod. - - "In most lodging-houses there is an old man who is the guide to - every 'walk' in the vicinity, and who can tell every house on - every round that is 'good for a cold 'tater.' In many cases there - is over the kitchen mantel-piece a map of the district, dotted - here and there with memorandums of failure or success. - - "Patterers are fond of carving their names and avocations about - the houses they visit. The old jail at Dartford has been some - years a 'padding-ken.' In one of the rooms appear the following - autographs:— - - "'Jemmy, the Rake, bound to Bristol; bad beds, but no bugs. Thank - God for all things.' - - "'Razor George and his moll slept here the day after Christmas; - just out of "stir," (jail,) for "muzzling a peeler."' - - "'Scotch Mary, with "driz," (lace,) bound to Dover and back, - please God.' - - "Sometimes these inscriptions are coarse and obscene; sometimes - very well written and orderly. Nor do they want illustrations. - - "At the old factory, Lincoln, is a portrait of the town beadle, - formerly a soldier; it is drawn with different-coloured chalks, - and ends with the following couplet:— - - 'You are a B for false swearing, - In hell they'll roast you like a herring.' - - "Concubinage is very common among patterers, especially on - their travels; they have their regular rounds, and call the - peregrination 'going on circuit.' For the most part they are - early risers; this gives them a facility for meeting poor girls - who have had a night's shelter in the union workhouses. They - offer such girls some refreshments, swear they are single men, - and promise comforts certainly superior to the immediate position - of their victims. Consent is generally obtained; perhaps a girl - of fourteen or fifteen, previously virtuous, is induced to - believe in a promise of constant protection, but finds herself, - the next morning, ruined and deserted; nor is it unlikely that, - within a month or two, she will see her seducer in the company of - a dozen incidental wives. A gray-headed miscreant, called 'Cutler - Tom,' boasts of five hundred such exploits; and there is too - great reason to believe that the picture of his own drawing is - not greatly overcharged." - -A reverend gentleman, who had enjoyed the best opportunities for -observing the patterers, gave Mr. Mayhew the following information:— - - "I have seen fathers and mothers place their boys and girls in - positions of incipient enormity, and command them to use language - and gestures to each other which would make a harlot blush, and - almost a heathen tremble. I have hitherto viewed the patterer - as a salesman, having something in his hand, on whose merits, - real or pretended, he talks people out of their money. By slow - degrees prosperity rises, but rapid is the advance of evil. The - patterer sometimes gets 'out of stock,' and is obliged, at no - great sacrifice of conscience, to 'patter' in another strain. In - every large town, sham official documents, with crests, seals, - and signatures, can be got for half-a-crown. Armed with these, - the patterer becomes a 'lurker,' that is, an impostor; his papers - certify any and every 'ill that flesh is heir to.' Shipwreck is - called a 'shake lurk;' loss by fire is a 'glim.' Sometimes the - petitioner has had a horse which has dropped dead with the mad - staggers; or has a wife ill or dying, and six or seven children - at once sickening of the small-pox. Children are borrowed to - support the appearance; the case is certified by the minister and - churchwardens of a parish which exists only in imagination; and - as many people dislike the trouble of investigation, the patterer - gets enough to raise a stock in trade, and divides the spoil - between the swag-shop and the gin-palace. Sometimes they are - detected, and get a 'drag,' (three months in prison.) - - "They have many narrow escapes; one occurs to me of a somewhat - ludicrous character:—A patterer and lurker (now dead) known - by the name of 'Captain Moody,' unable to get a 'fakement' - written or printed, was standing almost naked in the streets - of a neighbouring town. A gentleman stood still and heard his - piteous tale, but, having been 'done' more than once, he resolved - to examine the affair, and begged the petitioner to conduct - him to his wife and children, who were in a garret on a bed - of languishing, with neither clothes, food, nor fire, but, it - appeared, with faith enough to expect a supply from 'Him who - feedeth the ravens,' and in whose sacred name even a cold 'tater - was implored. The patterer, or half-patterer and half-beggar, - took the gentleman (who promised a sovereign if every thing was - square) through innumerable and intricate windings, till he came - to an outhouse or sort of stable. He saw the key outside the - door, and begged the gentleman to enter and wait till he borrowed - a light of a neighbour to show him up-stairs. The illumination - never arrived, and the poor charitable man found that the - miscreant had locked him into the stable. The patterer went to - the padding-ken, told the story with great glee, and left that - locality within an hour of the occurrence." - -Liverpool, Manchester, Birmingham, and other provincial cities possess -an ignorant and immoral population quite equal, in proportion to the -entire population of each city, to that of London. In each may be found -a degraded class, with scarcely any ideas of religion or morality, -living in the most wretched manner, and practising every species -of vice. The cellar-houses, in which many of them live, have been -described in another chapter. They are the filthy abodes of a people -almost reduced to a brutish condition. In Liverpool parish there is a -_cellar-population of 20,000_, a large number of whom are continually -engaged in criminal practices. There are portions of the city of -Glasgow which a stranger could scarcely traverse safely at night, -and where an amount of vice and misery may be witnessed which is not -exceeded in either London or Liverpool. - -In the mining and manufacturing districts of England there is much -ignorance and more vice. In both, there are schools of a miserable -character, but those young persons who can find time to attend them -learn nothing beyond reading, writing, and the simplest rules of -arithmetic. The mining labour, as carried on in the mines of England, -is extremely demoralizing in its tendency, as we have shown in another -part of this work. The report of parliamentary commissioners contains -some statements in regard to the darkness of mind and corruption -of heart among young persons employed in the various trades and -manufactures. - -The following facts are quoted from the Second Report of the -"Children's Employment Commission." - -The moral and religious state of the children and young persons -employed in the trades and manufactures of Birmingham, is described by -the sub-commissioners as very unfavourable. The social and domestic -duties and affections are but little cultivated and practised; great -numbers never attend any place of public worship; and of the state of -juvenile crime some conception may be formed by the statement, that of -the total number of known or suspected offenders in this town, during -the twelve last months—namely, 1223—at least one-half were under -fifteen years of age. - -As to illicit sexual intercourse, it seems to prevail almost -universally, and from a very early period of life; to this common -conclusion witnesses of every rank give testimony. - -WOLVERHAMPTON.—Of the moral condition of the youthful population in -the Wolverhampton district, Mr. Horne says—"Putting together all -I elicited from various witnesses and conversations with working -people, abroad and at home, and all that fell under my observation, I -am obliged to come to the conclusion, that the moral virtues of the -great majority of the children are as few in number and as feeble in -practice as can well be conceived in a civilized country, surrounded by -religious and educational institutions, and by individuals anxious for -the improvement of the condition of the working classes." - -He adds of WITTENHALL—"A lower condition of morals, in the fullest -sense of the term, could not, I think, be found. I do not mean by this -that there are many more prominent vices among them, but that moral -feelings and sentiments do not exist among them. They have no morals." - -SHEFFIELD.—In all the Sheffield trades, employing large numbers of -children, it is stated that there is a much closer intermixture of the -younger children with the elder youths, and with the men, than is usual -in the cotton, woollen, and flax factories; and that the conversation -to which the children are compelled to listen, would debase their minds -and blunt their moral feelings even if they had been carefully and -virtuously educated, but that of course this result takes place more -rapidly and completely in the case of those who have had little or no -religious culture, and little but bad example before their eyes from -their cradle upward. - -Habits of drinking are formed at a very early age, malt liquor being -generally introduced into the workshops, of which the youngest children -are encouraged to partake. "Very many," say the police-officers, -"frequent beer-shops, where they play at dominoes, bagatelle, &c. for -money or drink." Early intemperance is assigned by the medical men as -one cause of the great mortality of Sheffield. "There are beer-houses," -says the Rev. Mr. Farish, "attended by youths exclusively, for the -men will not have them in the same houses with themselves. In these -beer-houses are youths of both sexes encouraged to meet, and scenes -destructive of every vestige of virtue or morality ensue. - -But it is stated by all classes of witnesses, that "the most revolting -feature of juvenile depravity in this town is early contamination -from the association of the sexes," that "juvenile prostitution is -exceedingly common." "The evidence," says the sub-commissioner, "might -have been doubled which attests the early commencement of sexual and -promiscuous intercourse among boys and girls." - -SEDGLEY.—At Sedgley and the neighbouring villages, the number of girls -employed in nail-making considerably exceeds that of the boys. Of these -girls Mr. Horne reports—"Their appearance, manners, habits, and moral -natures (so far as the word _moral_ can be applied to them) are in -accordance with their half-civilized condition. Constantly associating -with ignorant and depraved adults and young persons of the opposite -sex, they naturally fall into all their ways; and drink, smoke, swear, -throw off all restraint in word and act, and become as bad as a man. -The heat of the forge and the hardness of the work renders few clothes -needful in winter; and in summer, the six or seven individuals who are -crowded into these little dens find the heat almost suffocating. The -men and boys are usually naked, except a pair of trousers and an open -shirt, though they very often have no shirt; and the women and girls -have only a thin ragged petticoat, and an open shirt without sleeves." - -In the mining districts, there is even more ignorance and depravity -than in the places where factories and workshops abound. The nature of -the work, and various wants, such as no freemen would suffer from—want -of proper schools and proper amusements—induce this state of things. -An American visiting any of these mining districts, would be astounded -at the dulness, ignorance, and viciousness that prevails among the -labourers—men and women, boys and girls. Many of them are perfect -heathens—never hearing of God except when his awful name is "taken in -vain." Of Christ and his mission they hear somewhat, but know nothing -positively. Newspapers—those daily and weekly messengers that keep -Americans fully informed of the affairs of the world—they seldom see. -The gin-shop and the brothel are their common resorts. - -Missionaries are wanted in Great Britain. Alas! that in the middle of -the nineteenth century, there should be so many hundreds of thousands -of people, in the vicinity of a costly church establishment, without -any knowledge of the Bible!—that a professedly Christian government -should keep so many souls in ignorance of Christianity!—that a country -boasting of its civilization and enlightenment should contain so much -darkness and depravity! - - - - -CHAPTER X. - -COOLIE SLAVERY IN THE BRITISH COLONIES. - - -The British government emancipated the negro slaves held under its -authority in the West Indies, thereby greatly depreciating the value of -the islands, permitting a half-tamed race to fall back into a state of -moral and mental darkness, and adding twenty millions to the national -debt, to be paid out of the sweat and blood of her own white serfs. -This was termed a grand act of humanity; those who laboured for it have -been lauded and laurelled without stint, and English writers have been -exceedingly solicitous that the world should not "burst in ignorance" -of the achievement. - -[Illustration: COOLIES.] - -Being free, the negroes, with the indolence inherent in their nature, -would not work. Many purses suffered in consequence, and the purse is -a very tender place to injure many persons. It became necessary to -substitute other labourers for the free negroes, and the Coolies of -India were taken to the Antilles for experiment. These labourers were -generally sober, steady, and industrious. But how were they treated? A -colonist of Martinique, who visited Trinidad in June, 1848, thus writes -to the French author of a treatise on free and slave labour:— - - "If I could fully describe to you the evils and suffering endured - by the Indian immigrants (Coolies) in that horribly governed - colony, I should rend the heart of the Christian world by a - recital of enormities unknown in the worst periods of colonial - slavery. - - "Borrowing the language of the prophet, I can truly say,'The - whole head is sick, and the whole heart is sad; from the sole of - the foot to the top of the head nothing is sound;' wounds, sores, - swollen ulcers, which are neither bandaged, nor soothed, nor - rubbed with oil. - - "My soul has been deeply afflicted by all that I have seen. - How many human beings lost! So far as I can judge, in spite of - their wasting away, all are young, perishing under the weight of - disease. Most of them are dropsical, for want of nourishment. - Groups of children, the most interesting I have ever seen, scions - of a race doomed to misfortune, were remarkable for their small - limbs, wrinkled and reduced to the size of spindles—and not a - rag to cover them! And to think that all this misery, all this - destruction of humanity, all this waste of the stock of a ruined - colony, might have been avoided, but has not been! Great God! - it is painful beyond expression to think that such a neglect of - duty and of humanity on the part of the colonial authorities, - as well of the metropolis as of the colony—a neglect which - calls for a repressive if not a retributive justice—will go - entirely unpunished, as it has hitherto done, notwithstanding - the indefatigable efforts of Colonel Fagan, the superintendent - of the immigrants in this colony, an old Indian officer of large - experience, of whom I have heard nothing but good, and never any - evil thing spoken, in all my travels through the island. - - "I am told that Colonel Fagan prepared a regulation for the - government and protection of the immigrants—which regulation - would probably realize, beyond all expectation, the object aimed - at; but scarcely had he commenced his operations when orders - arrived from the metropolis to suppress it, and substitute - another which proceeded from the ministry. The Governor, Mr. - Harris, displeased that his own regulation was thus annulled, - pronounced the new order impossible to be executed, and it was - withdrawn without having been properly tried. The minister sent - another order in regard to immigration, prepared in his hotel in - Downing street; but Governor Harris pronounced it to be still - more difficult of execution than the first, and it, too, failed. - It is in this manner that, from beginning to end, the affairs of - the Indian immigrants have been conducted. It was only necessary - to treat them with justice and kindness to render them—thanks - to their active superintendent—the best labourers that could - be imported into the colony. They are now protected neither - by regulations nor ordinances; no attention is paid to the - experienced voice of their superintendent—full of benevolence - for them, and always indefatigably profiting by what can be of - advantage to them. If disease renders a Coolie incapable of work, - he is driven from his habitation. This happens continually; he - is not in that case even paid his wages. What, then, can the - unfortunate creature do? Very different from the Creole or the - African; far distant from his country, without food, without - money; disease, the result of insufficient food and too severe - labour, makes it impossible for him to find employment. He drags - himself into the forests or upon the skirts of the roads, lies - there and dies! - - "Some years since, the unfortunate Governor (Wall) of Gorea was - hung for having pitilessly inflicted a fatal corporal punishment - on a negro soldier found guilty of mutiny; and this soldier, - moreover, was under his orders. In the present case, I can prove - a neglect to a great extent murderous. The victims are Indian - Coolies of Trinidad. In less than one year, as is shown by - official documents, _two thousand_ corpses of these unfortunate - creatures have furnished food to the crows of the island; and - a similar system is pursued, not only without punishment, but - without even forming the subject of an official inquest. Strange - and deplorable contradiction! and yet the nation which gives us - this example boasts of extending the ægis of its protection over - all its subjects, without distinction! It is this nation, also, - that complacently takes to itself the credit of extending justice - equally over all classes, over the lordly peer and the humblest - subject, without fear, favour, or affection!" - -In the Mauritius, the Coolies who have been imported are in a miserable -condition. The planters have profited by enslaving these mild and -gentle Hindoos, and rendering them wretched. - - "By aid of continued Coolie immigration," says Mr. Henry C. - Carey,[103] "the export of sugar from the Mauritius has been - doubled in the last sixteen years, having risen from seventy to - one hundred and forty millions of pounds. Sugar is therefore very - cheap, and the foreign competition is thereby driven from the - British market. 'Such conquests,' however, says, very truly, the - London Spectator, 'don't always bring profit to the conqueror; - nor does production itself prove prosperity. Competition for - the possession of a field may be carried so far as to reduce - prices below prime cost; and it is clear, from the notorious - facts of the West Indies—from the change of property, from the - total unproductiveness of much property still—that the West - India production of sugar has been carried on not only without - replacing capital, but with a constant sinking of capital.' The - 'free' Coolie and the 'free' negro of Jamaica have been urged - to competition for the sale of sugar, and they seem likely to - perish together; but compensation for this is found in the fact - that 'free trade has, in reducing the prices of commodities - for home consumption, enabled the labourer to devote a greater - share of his income toward purchasing clothing and luxuries, - and has increased the home trade to an enormous extent.' What - effect this reduction of 'the prices of commodities for home - consumption' has had upon the poor Coolies, may be judged from - the following passage:—'I here beheld, for the first time, a - class of beings of whom we have heard much, and for whom I have - felt considerable interest. I refer to the Coolies imported by - the British government to take the places of the _faineant_ - negroes, when the apprenticeship system was abolished. Those I - saw were wandering about the streets, dressed rather tastefully, - but always meanly, and usually carrying over their shoulder a - sort of _chiffonnier's_ sack, in which they threw whatever refuse - stuff they found in the streets or received as charity. Their - figures are generally superb, and their Eastern costume, to which - they adhere as far as their poverty will permit of any clothing, - sets off their lithe and graceful forms to great advantage. Their - faces are almost uniformly of the finest classic mould, and - illuminated by pairs of those dark, swimming, and propitiatory - eyes which exhaust the language of tenderness and passion at - a glance. But they are the most inveterate mendicants on the - island. It is said that those brought from the interior of India - are faithful and efficient workmen, while those from Calcutta - and its vicinity are good for nothing. Those that were prowling - about the streets of Spanish Town and Kingston, I presume were - of the latter class, for there is not a planter on the island, - it is said, from whom it would be more difficult to get any work - than from one of them. They subsist by begging altogether. They - are not vicious nor intemperate, nor troublesome particularly, - except as beggars. In that calling they have a pertinacity before - which a Northern mendicant would grow pale. They will not be - denied. They will stand perfectly still and look through a window - from the street for a quarter of an hour, if not driven away, - with their imploring eyes fixed upon you like a stricken deer, - without saying a word or moving a muscle. They act as if it were - no disgrace for them to beg, as if an indemnification which they - are entitled to expect, for the outrage perpetrated upon them in - bringing them from their distant homes to this strange island, is - a daily supply of their few and cheap necessities, as they call - for them. I confess that their begging did not leave upon my mind - the impression produced by ordinary mendicancy. They do not look - as if they ought to work. I never saw one smile; and though they - showed no positive suffering, I never saw one look happy. Each - face seemed to be constantly telling the unhappy story of their - woes, and, like fragments of a broken mirror, each reflecting in - all its hateful proportions the national outrage of which they - are the victims.'"[104] - -English writers have frequently charged the citizens of the United -States with being sordid, and caring more for pecuniary profit than -honourable principle. No national measure of the great North American -Republic, however, is so deeply tainted with avaricious motives as the -colonial enactments and commercial schemes of Great Britain. Witness -the government of British India, and the infamous traffic in opium -forced upon the Chinese. In the conveyance of Coolies to the West -Indies, and their treatment while toiling in those islands, we see the -same base spirit displayed. All considerations of humanity have been -sacrificed to calculations of profit. A people, naturally mild and -intelligent, have been taken from their native land to distant islands, -to take the place of the fierce and barbarous Africans, to whose -civilization slavery seems almost necessary; and in their new land of -bondage these poor creatures have been deprived of the inducements to -steady exertion, and left to beg or starve. - -After the passage of the act abolishing negro slavery, an arrangement -was sanctioned by the colonial government for the introduction of -Indian labourers into the Mauritius, under a species of apprenticeship. -The Coolies were engaged at five rupees, equal to ten shillings a -month, for five years, with also one pound of rice, a quarter of a -pound of dhall, or grain—a kind of pulse—and one ounce of butter, or -ghee, daily. But for every day they were absent from their work they -were to return two days to their masters, who retained one rupee per -month to pay an advance made of six months' wages, and to defray the -expense of their passage. If these men came into Port Louis to complain -of their masters, they were lodged in the Bagne prison till their -masters were summoned! Before the magistrates the masters had a great -advantage over their servants. The latter being foreigners, but few of -them could speak French, and they had no one to assist them in pleading -their cause. They generally represented themselves as having been -deceived with respect to the kind of labour to be required of them.[105] - -A large number of Indian convicts have been transported to the -Mauritius, and their slavery is deplorable. Backhouse, who visited the -island when these poor wretches were not so numerous as they now are, -says—"Among the Indian convicts working on the road, we noticed one -wearing chains; several had a slight single ring round the ankle. They -are lodged in huts with flat roofs, or in other inferior dwellings near -the road. There are about seven hundred of them in the island. What -renders them peculiarly objects of sympathy is, that they were sent -here for life, and no hope of any remission of sentence is held out to -them for good conduct. Theirs is a hopeless bondage; and though it is -said by some that they are not hard worked, yet they are generally, -perhaps constantly, breaking stones and mending the roads, and under -a tropical sun. There are among them persons who were so young when -transported that, in their offences, they could only be looked on -as the dupes of those who were older, and many of them bear good -characters." - -The hopeless slavery of these convicts is a doom which displays, in -a striking light, the characteristics of British philanthropy. Death -would be preferable to such a punishment, in the estimation of many -of the Hindoos; but the British authorities are determined to make -the punishment pay! After the "eternal blazon" concerning the act of -emancipating negroes, for which the pauperized labourers of Great -Britain had to pay by their slavery, the colonial government created -another system, attended with the misery and degradation of a people -better fitted for freedom than the negroes. The civilized world is -requested to look on and admire! - - - - -CHAPTER XI. - -SLAVERY IN BRITISH INDIA. - - -The extensive, populous, and wealthy peninsula of Hindostan has -suffered greatly from the crushing effects of the British slave system. -From the foundation of the empire in India by Clive, conquest and -extortion seem to have been the grand objects of the aristocratic -government. There unscrupulous soldiers have fought, slaughtered, -enslaved, and plundered. There younger sons, with rank, but without -fortune, have filled their purses. There vast and magnificent tracts -of country have been wasted with fire and sword, in punishment for -the refusal of native princes to become slaves. There the fat of the -land has been garnered up for the luxury of the conquerors, while -famine has destroyed the people by thousands. There, indeed, has the -British aristocracy displayed its most malignant propensities—rioting -in robbery and bloodshed—setting all religion at defiance, while -upholding the Christian standard—and earning to the full the continued -execration of mankind. - -In a powerful work, called "The Aristocracy of England: a History for -the People, by John Hampden, Jun.," a book we commend to the people of -England, we have the following passage:— - - "From the hour that Clive and his coadjutors came into the - discovery of the vast treasures of the native princes, whence - he himself obtained, besides his jaghire of £30,000 per annum, - about £300,000; and he and his fellows altogether, between - 1759 and 1763, no less than £5,940,498, exclusive of this said - jaghire, the cupidity of the aristocracy became excited to the - highest degree; and from that period to the present, India has - been one scene of flights of aristocratic locusts, of fighting, - plundering, oppression, and extortion of the natives. We will not - go into these things; they are fully and faithfully written in - Mills's 'History of British India;' in Howitt's 'Colonization and - Christianity;' and, above all, in the letters of the Honourable - Frederick Shore, brother of Lord Teignmouth, a man who passed - through all offices—from a clerk to that of a judge—and saw - much of the system and working of things in many parts of India. - He published his letters originally in the India papers, that - any one on the spot might challenge their truth; and, since his - death, they have been reprinted in England. The scene which - that work opens up is the most extraordinary, and demands the - attention of every lover of his country and his species. It fully - accounts for the strange facts, that India is now drained of - its wealth; that its public works, especially the tanks, which - contributed by their waters to maintain its fertility, are fallen - to decay; that one-third of the country is a jungle inhabited - by tigers, who pay no taxes; that its people are reduced to the - utmost wretchedness, and are often, when a crop fails, swept away - by half a million at once by famine and its pendant, pestilence, - as in 1770, and again in 1838-9. To such a degree is this - reduction of the wealth and cultivation of India carried, that - while others of our colonies pay taxes to the amount of a pound - or thirty shillings per head, India pays only four shillings. - - "At the renewal of its charter in 1834, its income was about - _twenty millions_, its debt about _forty millions_. Since then - its income has gradually fallen to about _seventeen millions_, - and its debt we hear now whispered to be about _seventy - millions_. Such have been the effects of exhausted fields and - physical energies on the one hand, and of wars, especially that - of Afghanistan, on the other. It requires no conjurer, much less - a very profound arithmetician, to perceive that at this rate we - need be under no apprehension of Russia, for a very few years - will take India out of our hands by mere financial force. - - "Our aristocratic government, through the Board of Control, keep - up and exert a vast patronage in India. The patronage of the - president of this board alone, independent of his salary of £5000 - a year, is about _twenty-one_ thousand pounds. But the whole - aristocracy have an interest in keeping up wars in India, that - their sons as officers, especially in these times of European - peace, may find here both employment and promotion. This, then, - the Company has to contend against; and few are they who are - aware of the formidable nature of this power as it is exerted - in this direction, and of the strange and unconstitutional - legislative authority with which they have armed themselves for - this purpose. How few are they who are aware that, while the - East India Company has been blamed as the planners, authors, - and movers of the fatal and atrocious invasion of Caboul, - that the Directors of the Company only first, and to their - great amazement, learned the outbreak of that war from the - public Indian papers. So far from that war being one of their - originating, it was most opposed to their present policy, and - disastrous to their affairs. How then came this monstrous war - about, and _who_ then did originate it? To explain this requires - us to lay open a monstrous stretch of unconstitutional power - on the part of our government—a monstrous stratagem for the - maintenance of their aristocratic views in India, which it is - wonderful could have escaped the notice and reprehension of the - public. Let the reader mark well what follows. - - "In the last charter, granted in 1834, a clause was introduced, - binding a secret committee of the East India Company, consisting - of three persons only, the chairman, deputy chairman, and senior - director, who are solemnly sworn to this work, to receive - private despatches from the Board of Control, and without - communicating them to a single individual besides themselves, to - forward them to India, where the receivers are bound, _without - question or appeal_, to enforce their immediate execution. By - this inquisitorial system, this worse than Spanish or Venetian - system of secret decrees, government has reserved to itself a - direction of the affairs of India, freed from all constitutional - or representative check, and reduced the India Company to a mere - cat's-paw. By the sworn secrecy and implicit obedience of this - mysterious triumvirate, the Company is made the unconscious - instrument of measures most hostile to its own views, and most - fatal to its best interests. It may at any hour become the - medium of a secret order which may threaten the very destruction - of its empire. Such was the case with the war of Caboul. The - aristocratic government at home planned and ordered it; and the - unconscious Company was made at once to carry out a scheme so - atrocious, so wicked and unprincipled, as well as destructive - to its plans of civil economy, and to bear also the infamy of - it. Awaking, therefore, to the tremendous nature of the secret - powers thus introduced into their machinery by government, the - Company determined to exercise also a power happily intrusted to - _them_. Hence the recall of Lord Ellenborough, who, in obedience - to aristocratic views at home, was not only running headlong - over all their plans of pacific policy, but with his armies - and elephants was treading under foot their cotton and sugar - plantations. Hence, on the other hand, the favour and support - which this warlike lord finds with the great martial duke, and - the home government." - -The policy of the European conquerors of India was fully illustrated -during the gubernatorial term of Warren Hastings. Of his extortion the -eloquent Macaulay says— - - - "The principle which directed all his dealings with his - neighbours is fully expressed by the old motto of one of the - great predatory families of Teviotdale—'Thou shalt want ere - I want,' He seems to have laid it down, as a fundamental - proposition which could not be disputed, that when he had not - as many lacs of rupees as the public service required, he was - to take them from anybody who had. One thing, indeed, is to - be said in excuse for him. The pressure applied to him by his - employers at home was such as only the highest virtue could have - withstood—such as left him no choice except to commit great - wrongs, or to resign his high post, and with that post all his - hopes of fortune and distinction. It is perfectly true, that the - directors never enjoined or applauded any crime. Far from it. - Whoever examines their letters at that time will find there many - just and humane sentiments, many excellent precepts; in short, an - admirable circle of political ethics. But every exhortation is - modified or annulled by a demand for money. 'Govern leniently, - and send more money; practise strict justice and moderation - toward neighbouring powers, and send more money;' this is, in - truth, the sum of almost all the instructions that Hastings ever - received from home. Now these instructions, being interpreted, - mean simply, 'Be the father and the oppressor of the people; be - just and unjust, moderate and rapacious.' The directors dealt - with India as the church, in the good old times, dealt with a - heretic. They delivered the victim over to the executioners, - with an earnest request that all possible tenderness might be - shown. We by no means accuse or suspect those who framed these - despatches of hypocrisy. It is probable that, writing fifteen - thousand miles from the place where their orders were to be - carried into effect, they never perceived the gross inconsistency - of which they were guilty. But the inconsistency was at once - manifest to their lieutenant at Calcutta, who, with an empty - treasury, with an unpaid army, with his own salary often in - arrear, with deficient crops, with government tenants daily - running away, was called upon to remit home another half million - without fail. Hastings saw that it was absolutely necessary for - him to disregard either the moral discourses or the pecuniary - requisitions of his employers. Being forced to disobey them in - something, he had to consider what kind of disobedience they - would most readily pardon; and he correctly judged that the - safest course would be to neglect the sermons and to find the - rupees." - -How were the rupees found? By selling provinces that had never belonged -to the British dominions; by the destruction of the brave Rohillas -of Rohilcund, in the support of the cruel tyrant, Surajah Dowlah, -sovereign of Oude, of which terrible act Macaulay says— - - "Then the horrors of Indian war were let loose on the fair - valleys and cities of Rohilcund; the whole country was in a - blaze. More than a hundred thousand people fled from their - homes to pestilential jungles, preferring famine and fever and - the haunts of tigers to the tyranny of him to whom an English - and a Christian government had, for shameful lucre, sold their - substance and their blood, and the honour of their wives and - daughters. Colonel Champion remonstrated with the Nabob Vizier, - and sent strong representations to Fort William; but the governor - had made no conditions as to the mode in which the war was to - be carried on. He had troubled himself about nothing but his - forty lacs; and, though he might disapprove of Surajah Dowlah's - wanton barbarity, he did not think himself entitled to interfere, - except by offering advice. This delicacy excites the admiration - of the reverend biographer. 'Mr. Hastings,' he says, 'could not - himself dictate to the Nabob, nor permit the commander of the - Company's troops to dictate how the war was to be carried on.' - No, to be sure. Mr. Hastings had only to put down by main force - the brave struggles of innocent men fighting for their liberty. - Their military resistance crushed, his duties ended; and he had - then only to fold his arms and look on while their villages were - burned, their children butchered, and their women violated." - -By such a course of action, Warren Hastings made the British empire in -India pay. By such means did the aristocrats, of whom the governor was -the tool, obtain the money which would enable them to live in luxury. - - "The servants of the Company obtained—not for their employers, - but for themselves—a monopoly of almost the whole internal - trade; they forced the natives to buy dear and sell cheap; they - insulted with perfect impunity the tribunals, the police, and - the fiscal authorities of the country; they covered with their - protection a set of native dependants, who ranged through the - provinces spreading desolation and terror wherever they appeared. - Every servant of a British factor was armed with all the power - of his master, and his master was armed with all the power of - the Company. Enormous fortunes were thus rapidly accumulated at - Calcutta, while thirty millions of human beings were reduced to - the last extremity of wretchedness. They had been accustomed - to live under tyranny, but never under tyranny like this; they - found the little finger of the Company thicker than the loins - of Surajah Dowlah. Under their old masters they had at least - one resource; when the evil became insupportable, they rose and - pulled down the government. But the English government was not - to be so shaken off. That government, oppressive as the most - oppressive form of barbarian despotism, was strong with all the - strength of civilization; it resembled the government of evil - genii rather than the government of human tyrants." * * * - - "The foreign lords of Bengal were naturally objects of hatred - to all the neighbouring powers, and to all the haughty - race presented a dauntless front; their armies, everywhere - outnumbered, were everywhere victorious. A succession of - commanders, formed in the school of Clive, still maintained - the fame of their country. 'It must be acknowledged,' says - the Mussulman historian of those times, 'that this nation's - presence of mind, firmness of temper, and undaunted bravery are - past all question. They join the most resolute courage to the - most cautious prudence; nor have they their equal in the art of - ranging themselves in battle array and fighting in order. If to - so many military qualifications they knew how to join the arts of - government—if they exerted as much ingenuity and solicitude in - relieving the people of God as they do in whatever concerns their - military affairs, no nation in the world would be preferable to - them or worthier of command; but the people under their dominion - groan everywhere, and are reduced to poverty and distress. O God! - come to the assistance of thine afflicted servants, and deliver - them from the oppressions they suffer.'" - -From the earliest times the "village system," with its almost -patriarchal regulations, seems to have prevailed in Hindostan. Each -village had its distinct organization, and over a certain number of -villages, or a district, was an hereditary chief and an accountant, -both possessing great local influence and authority, and certain -estates.[106] The Hindoos were strongly attached to their native -villages, and could only be forced to abandon them by the most constant -oppressions. Dynasties might change and revolutions occur, but so -long as each little community remained undisturbed, the Hindoos were -contented. Mohammedan conquerors left this beautiful system, which -had much more of genuine freedom than the British institutions at the -present day, untouched. The English conquerors were not so merciful, -although they were acquainted with Christianity. The destruction of -local organizations and the centralization of authority, which is -always attended with the increase of slavery,[107] have been the aims -of English efforts. The principle that the government is the sole -proprietor of the land, and therefore entitled to a large share of -the produce, has been established, and slavery, to escape famine and -misery, has become necessary to the Hindoos. - -Exhaustion was the result of the excessive taxation laid upon the -Hindoos by the East India Company. As the government became stinted -for revenue, Lord Cornwallis was instructed to make a permanent -settlement, by means of which all the rights of village proprietors -over a large portion of Bengal were sacrificed in favour of the -Zemindars, or head men, who were thus at once constituted great landed -proprietors—masters of a large number of poor tenants, with power to -punish at discretion those who were not able to pay whatever rent was -demanded.[108] From free communities, the villages were reduced to the -condition of British tenants-at-will. The Zemindaree system was first -applied to Bengal. In Madras another system, called the Ryotwar, was -introduced. This struck a fatal blow at the local organizations, which -were the sources of freedom and happiness among the Hindoos. Government -assumed all the functions of an immediate landholder, and dealt with -the individual cultivators as its own tenants, getting as much out of -them as possible. - -The Zemindars are an unthrifty, rack-renting class, and take the -uttermost farthing from the under-tenants. Oppressions and evictions -are their constant employments; and since they have been constituted -a landed aristocracy, they have fully acted out the character in the -genuine British fashion. - -Another tenure, called the Patnee, has been established of late -years, by some of the great Zemindars, with the aid of government -enactments, and it is very common in Bengal. The great Zemindar, -for a consideration, makes over a portion of his estate in fee to -another, subject to a perpetual rent, payable through the collector, -who receives it on behalf of the zemindar; and if it is not paid, the -interests of the patneedar are sold by the collector. These, again, -have sub-patneedars, and the system has become very much in vogue in -certain districts. The parties are like the Irish middlemen, and the -last screws the tenant to the uttermost.[109] - -During the British government of Bengal, wealth has been accumulated by -a certain superior class, and population, cultivation, and the receipts -from rent of land, have largely increased; but, as in England, the mass -of the people are poor and degraded. In the rich provinces of Upper -India, where the miserable landed system of the conquerors has been -introduced, the results have been even more deplorable. Communities, -once free, happy, and possessed of plenty, are now broken up, or -subjected to such excessive taxation that their members are kept in -poverty and slavery. - -Colonel Sleeman, in his "Rambles and Recollections of an Indian -Official," records a conversation which he held with the head -landholder of a village, organized under the Zemindar system. During -the dialogue, some statements were made which are important for our -purpose. - -The colonel congratulated himself that he had given satisfactory -replies to the arguments of the Zemindar, and accounted naturally for -the evils suffered by the villagers. The reader will, doubtless, form a -different opinion:— - - "In the early part of November, after a heavy fall of rain, I - was driving alone in my buggy from Garmuktesin on the Ganges, - to Meerut. The roads were very bad, the stage a double one, and - my horse became tired and unable to go on. I got out at a small - village to give him a little rest and food; and sat down under - the shade of one old tree upon the trunk of another that the - storm had blown down, while my groom, the only servant I had with - me, rubbed down and baited my horse. I called for some parched - grain from the same shop which supplied my horse, and got a - draught of good water, drawn from the well by an old woman, in a - brass jug lent to me for the purpose by the shopkeeper. - - "While I sat contentedly and happily stripping my parched grain - from its shell, and eating it grain by grain, the farmer, or head - landholder of the village, a sturdy old Rajpoot, came up and sat - himself, without any ceremony, down by my side, to have a little - conversation. [To one of the dignitaries of the land, in whose - presence the aristocracy are alone considered entitled to chairs, - this easy familiarity seems at first strange and unaccountable; - he is afraid that the man intends to offer him some indignity, - or what is still worse, mistakes him for something less than a - dignitary! The following dialogue took place:—] - - "'You are a Rajpoot, and a Zemindar?' (landholder.) - - "'Yes; I am the head landholder of this village.' - - - "'Can you tell me how that village in the distance is elevated - above the ground; is it from the debris of old villages, or from - a rock underneath?' - - "'It is from the debris of old villages. That is the original - seat of all the Rajpoots around; we all trace our descent from - the founders of that village, who built and peopled it many - centuries ago.' - - "'And you have gone on subdividing your inheritances here as - elsewhere, no doubt, till you have hardly any of you any thing to - eat?' - - "'True, we have hardly any of us enough to eat; but that is the - fault of the government, that does not leave us enough—that - takes from us as much when the season is bad as when it is good!' - - "'But your assessment has not been increased, has it?' - - "'No; we have concluded a settlement for twenty years upon the - same footing as formerly.' - - "'And if the sky were to shower down upon you pearls and - diamonds, instead of water, the government would never demand - more from you than the rate fixed upon?' - - 'No.' - - "'Then why should you expect remissions in bad seasons?' - - "'It cannot be disputed that the _burkut_ (blessing from above) - is less under you than it used to be formerly, and that the lands - yield less from our labour.' - - "'True, my old friend, but do you know the reason why?' - - "'No.' - - "'Then I will tell you. Forty or fifty years ago, in what you - call the times of the _burkut_, (blessing from above,) the - cavalry of Seikh, free-booters from the Punjab, used to sweep - over this fine plain, in which stands the said village from which - you are all descended; and to massacre the whole population of - some villages; and a certain portion of that of every other - village; and the lands of those killed used to lie waste for want - of cultivators. Is not this all true?' - - "'Yes, quite true.' - - "'And the fine groves which had been planted over this plain by - your ancestors, as they separated from the great parent stock, - and formed independent villages and hamlets for themselves, were - all swept away and destroyed by the same hordes of free-booters, - from whom your poor imbecile emperors, cooped up in yonder large - city of Delhi, were utterly unable to defend you?' - - "'Quite true,' said the old man with a sigh. 'I remember when - all this fine plain was as thickly studded with fine groves of - mango-trees as Rohilcund, or any other part of India.' - - "'You know that the land requires rest from labour, as well as - men and bullocks; and that if you go on sowing wheat, and other - exhausting crops, it will go on yielding less and less returns, - and at last not be worth the tilling?' - - "'Quite well.' - - "'Then why do you not give the land rest by leaving it longer - fallow, or by a more frequent alternation of crops relieve it?' - - "'Because we have now increased so much, that we should not get - enough to eat were we to leave it to fallow; and unless we tilled - it with exhausting crops we should not get the means of paying - our rents to government.' - - "'The Seikh hordes in former days prevented this; they killed off - a certain portion of your families, and gave the land the _rest_ - which you now refuse it. When you had exhausted one part, you - found another recovered by a long fallow, so that you had better - returns; but now that we neither kill you, nor suffer you to be - killed by others, you have brought all the cultivable lands into - tillage; and under the old system of cropping to exhaustion, it - is not surprising that they yield you less returns.' - - "By this time we had a crowd of people seated around us upon the - ground, as I went on munching my parched grain and talking to the - old patriarch. They all laughed at the old man at the conclusion - of my last speech, and he confessed I was right. - - "'This is all true, sir, but still your government is not - considerate; it goes on taking kingdom after kingdom and adding - to its dominions, without diminishing the burden upon us its old - subjects. Here you have had armies away taking Afghanistan, but - we shall not have one rupee the less to pay.' - - "'True, my friend, nor would you demand a rupee less from those - honest cultivators around us, if we were to leave you all your - lands untaxed. You complain of the government—they complain of - you. [Here the circle around us laughed at the old man again.] - Nor would you subdivide the lands the less for having it rent - free; on the contrary, it would be every generation subdivided - the more, inasmuch as there would be more of local ties, and a - greater disinclination on the part of the members of families to - separate and seek service abroad.' - - "'True, sir, very true; that is, no doubt, a very great evil.' - - "'And you know it is not an evil produced by us, but one arising - out of your own laws of inheritance. You have heard, no doubt, - that with us the eldest son gets the whole of the land, and the - younger sons all go out in search of service, with such share as - they can get of the other property of their father?' - - "'Yes, sir; but where shall we get service—you have none to give - us. I would serve to-morrow, if you would take me as a soldier,' - said he, stroking his white whiskers. - - "The crowd laughed heartily, and some wag observed, 'that perhaps - I should think him too old.' - - "'Well,' said the old man, smiling, 'the gentleman himself is - not very young, and yet I dare say he is a good servant of his - government.' - - "This was paying me off for making the people laugh at his - expense. 'True, my old friend,' said I, 'but I began to serve - when I was young, and have been long learning.' - - "'Very well,' said the old man; 'but I should be glad to serve - the rest of my life upon a less salary than you got when you - began to learn.' - - "'Well, my friend, you complain of our government; but you must - acknowledge that we do all we can to protect you, though it is - true that we are often acting in the dark.' - - "'Often, sir? you are always acting in the dark; you hardly any - of you know any thing of what your revenue and police officers - are doing; there is no justice or redress to be got without - paying for it; and it is not often that those who pay can get it.' - - "'True, my old friend, that is bad all over the world. You cannot - presume to ask any thing even from the Deity himself, without - paying the priest who officiates in his temples; and if you - should, you would none of you hope to get from your deity what - you asked for.' - - "Here the crowd laughed again, and one of them said 'that there - was certainly this to be said for our government, that the - European gentlemen themselves never took bribes, whatever those - under them might do.' - - "'You must not be too sure of that neither. Did not the Lal - Beebee (red lady) get a bribe for soliciting the judge, her - husband, to let go Ameer Sing, who had been confined in jail?' - - "'How did this take place?' - - "'About three years ago Ameer Sing was sentenced to imprisonment, - and his friends spent a great deal of money in bribes to the - native officers of the court, but all in vain. At last they were - recommended to give a handsome present to the red lady. They did - so, and Ameer Sing was released.' - - "'But did they give the present into the lady's own hand?' - - "'No, they gave it to one of her women.' - - "'And how do you know that she ever gave it to her mistress, or - that her mistress ever heard of the transaction?' - - "'She might certainly have been acting without her mistress's - knowledge; but the popular belief is, that Lal Beebee got the - present.' - - "I then told them the story of the affair at Jubbulpore, when - Mrs. Smith's name had been used for a similar purpose, and the - people around us were highly amused; and the old man's opinion of - the transaction evidently underwent a change.[110] - - "We became good friends, and the old man begged me to have my - tents, which he supposed were coming up, pitched among them, that - he might have an opportunity of showing that he was not a bad - subject, though he grumbled against the government. - - "The next day, at Meerut, I got a visit from the chief native - judge, whose son, a talented youth, is in my office. Among other - things, I asked him whether it might not be possible to improve - the character of the police by increasing the salaries of the - officers, and mentioned my conversation with the landholder. - - "'Never, sir,' said the old gentleman; 'the man that now gets - twenty-five rupees a month, is contented with making perhaps - fifty or seventy-five more; and the people subject to his - authority pay him accordingly. Give him a hundred, sir, and he - will put a shawl over his shoulders, and the poor people will be - obliged to pay him at a rate which will make up his income to - four hundred. You will only alter his style of living, and make - him a greater burden to the people; he will always take as long - as he thinks he can with impunity.' - - "'But do you not think that when people see a man adequately paid - by government, they will the more readily complain at any attempt - at unauthorized exactions?' - - "'Not a bit, sir, as long as they see the same difficulties in - the way of prosecuting them to conviction. In the administration - of civil justice (the old gentleman is a civil judge) you may - occasionally see your way, and understand what is doing; but in - revenue and police you have never seen it in India, and never - will, I think. The officers you employ will all add to their - incomes by unauthorized means; and the lower their incomes, the - less their pretensions, and the less the populace have to pay.'" - -In the "History of the Possessions of the Honourable East India -Company," by R. Montgomery Martin, F. S. S., the following statements -occur:— - - "The following estimate has been made of the population of the - allied and independent states:—Hydrabad, 10,000,000; Oude, - 6,000,000; Nagpoor, 3,000,000; Mysore, 3,000,000; Sattara, - 1,500,000; Gurckwar, 2,000,000; Travancore and Cochin, 1,000,000; - Rajpootana, and various minor principalities, 16,500,000; - Sciudias territories, 4,000,000; the Seiks, 3,000,000; Nepál, - 2,000,000; Cashmere, etc., 1,000,000; Scinde, 1,000,000; total, - 51,000,000. This, of course, is but a rough estimate by Hamilton, - (Slavery in British India.) For the last forty years the East - India Company's government have been gradually, but safely, - abolishing slavery throughout their dominions; they began in - 1789 with putting down the maritime traffic, by prosecuting any - person caught in exporting or importing slaves by sea, long - before the British government abolished that infernal commerce - in the Western world, and they have ever since sedulously sought - the final extinction of that domestic servitude which had long - existed throughout the East, as recognised by the Hindoo and - Mohammedan law. In their despatches of 1798, it was termed - '_an inhuman commerce and cruel traffic_.' French, Dutch, or - Danish subjects captured within the limit of their dominions in - the act of purchasing or conveying slaves were imprisoned and - heavily fined, and every encouragement was given to their civil - and military servants to aid in protecting the first rights of - humanity. - - "Mr. Robertson,[111] in reference to Cawnpore, - observes:—'Domestic slavery exists; but of an agricultural slave - I do not recollect a single instance. When I speak of _domestic_ - slavery, I mean that _status_ which I must call slavery for want - of any more accurate designation. It does not, however, resemble - that which is understood in Europe to be slavery; it is the - mildest species of servitude. The domestic slaves are certain - persons purchased in times of scarcity; children purchased - from their parents; they grow up in the family, and are almost - entirely employed in domestic offices in the house; not liable to - be resold. - - "'There is a certain species of slavery in South Bahar, where - a man mortgages his labour for a certain sum of money; and this - species of slavery exists also in Arracan and Ava. It is for his - life, or until he shall pay the sum, that he is obliged to labour - for the person who lends him the money; and if he can repay the - sum, he emancipates himself. - - "'Masters have no power of punishment recognised by our laws. - Whatever may be the provision of the Mohammedan or Hindoo - codes to that effect, it is a dead letter, for we would not - recognise it. The master doubtless may sometimes inflict - domestic punishment; but if he does, the slave rarely thinks - of complaining of it. Were he to do so his complaint would be - received.' This, in fact, is the palladium of liberty in England. - - "In Malabar, according to the evidence of Mr. Baber, slavery, as - mentioned by Mr. Robertson, also exists, and perhaps the same - is the case in Guzerat and to the north; but the wonder is, not - that such is the case, but that it is so partial in extent, and - fortunately so bad in character, approximating indeed so much - toward the feudal state as to be almost beyond the reach as well - as the necessity of laws which at present would be practically - inoperative. The fact, that of 100,000,000 British inhabitants, - [or allowing five to a family, 20,000,000 families,] upward of - 16,000,000 are landed proprietors, shows to what a confined - extent even domestic slavery exists. A commission has been - appointed by the new charter to inquire into this important but - delicate subject.'" - -We have quoted this passage from a writer who is a determined advocate -of every thing _British_, whether it be good or had, in order to show -by his own admission that chattel slavery, that is the precise form -of slavery of which the British express such a holy horror, exists in -British India under the sanction of British laws. Nor does it exist to -a small extent only, as he would have us believe. It has always existed -there, and must necessarily be on the increase, from the very cause -which he points out, viz. famine. No country in the world, thanks to -British oppression, is so frequently and so extensively visited by -famine as India; and as the natives can escape in many instances from -starving to death by selling themselves, and can save their children -by selling them into slavery, we can readily form an estimate of the -great extent to which this takes place in cases of famine, where the -people are perishing by thousands and tens of thousands. As to the -statement that the government of the East India Company have been -endeavouring to abolish this species of slavery, it proves any thing -rather than a desire to benefit the natives of India. Chattel slaves -are not desired by British subjects because the ownership of them -involves the necessity of supporting them in sickness and old age. The -kind of slavery which the British have imposed on the great mass of -their East Indian subjects is infinitely more oppressive and inhuman -than chattel slavery. Indeed it would not at all suit the views of -the British aristocracy to have chattel slavery become so fashionable -in India as to interfere with their own cherished system of political -slavery, which is so extensively and successfully practised in England, -Scotland, Ireland, and the West and East Indies. The money required for -the support of chattel slaves could not be spared by the aristocratic -governments in the colonies. The object is to take the fruits of the -labourer's toil without providing for him at all. When labourers are -part of a master's capital, the better he provides for them the more -they are worth. When they are not property, the character of their -subsistence is of no importance; but they must yield the greater part -of the results of their toil. - -The "salt laws" of India are outrageously oppressive. An account of -their operation will give the reader a taste of the character of the -legislation to which the British have subjected conquered Hindoos. Such -an account we find in a recent number of "Household Words," which Lord -Shaftesbury and his associates in luxury and philanthropy should read -more frequently than we can suppose they do:— - - "Salt, in India, is a government monopoly. It is partially - imported, and partially manufactured in government factories. - These factories are situated in dreary marshes—the workers - obtaining certain equivocal privileges, on condition of following - their occupation in these pestiferous regions, where hundreds of - these wretched people fall, annually, victims to the plague or - the floods. - - "The salt consumed in India must be purchased through the - government, at a duty of upward of two pounds per ton, making the - price to the consumer about eight pence per pound. In England, - salt may be purchased by retail, three pounds, or wholesale, five - pounds for one penny; while in India, upward of thirty millions - of persons, whose average incomes do not amount to above three - shillings per week, are compelled to expend one-fourth of that - pittance in salt for themselves and families. - - "It may naturally be inferred, that, with such a heavy duty upon - this important necessary of life, that underhand measures are - adopted by the poor natives for supplying themselves. We shall - see, however, by the following severe regulations, that the - experiment is too hazardous to be often attempted. Throughout - the whole country there are numerous 'salt chokies,' or police - stations, the superintendents of which are invested with powers - of startling and extraordinary magnitude. - - "When information is lodged with such superintendent that salt is - stored in any place without a '_ruwana_,' or permit, he proceeds - to collect particulars of the description of the article, the - quantity stated to be stored, and the name of the owner of the - store. If the quantity stated to be stored exceeds seventy - pounds, he proceeds with a body of police to make the seizure. - If the door is not opened to him at once, he is invested with - full power to break it open; and if the police-officers exhibit - the least backwardness in assisting, or show any sympathy with - the unfortunate owner, they are liable to be heavily fined. The - owner of the salt, with all persons found upon the premises, - are immediately apprehended, and are liable to six months' - imprisonment for the first offence, twelve for the second, and - eighteen months for the third; so that if a poor Indian was to - see a shower of salt in his garden, (there _are_ showers of - salt sometimes,) and to attempt to take advantage of it without - paying duty, he would become liable to this heavy punishment. - The superintendent of police is also empowered to detain and - search trading vessels, and if salt be found on board without - a permit, the whole of the crew may be apprehended and tried - for the offence. Any person erecting a distilling apparatus in - his own house, merely to distil enough sea-water for the use - of his household, is liable to such a fine as may ruin him. - In this case, direct proof is not required, but inferred from - circumstances at the discretion of the judge. - - "If a person wishes to erect a factory upon his own estate, - he must first give notice to the collector of revenue of all - the particulars relative thereto, failing which, the collector - may order all the works to be destroyed. Having given notice, - officers are immediately quartered upon the premises, who - have access to all parts thereof, for fear the company should - be defrauded of the smallest amount of duty. When duty _is_ - paid upon any portion, the collector, upon giving a receipt, - specifies the name and residence of the person to whom it is to - be delivered, to whom it _must_ be delivered within a stated - period, or become liable to fresh duty. To wind up, and make - assurance doubly sure, the police may seize and detain any load - or package which may pass the stations, till they are satisfied - such load or package does not contain contraband salt. - - "Such are the salt laws of India; such the monopoly by which - a revenue of three millions sterling is raised; and such the - system which, in these days of progress and improvement, acts as - an incubus upon the energies, the mental resources, and social - advancement of the immense population of India. - - "Political economists of all shades of opinion—men who have well - studied the subject—deliberately assert that nothing would tend - so much toward the improvement of that country, and to a more - complete development of its vast natural resources, than the - abolition of these laws; and we can only hope, without blaming - any one, that at no distant day a more enlightened policy will - pervade the councils of the East India Company, and that the poor - Hindoo will be emancipated from the thraldom of these odious - enactments. - - "But apart from every other consideration, there is one, - in connection with the Indian salt-tax, which touches the - domestic happiness and vital interest of every inhabitant in - Great Britain. It is decided, by incontrovertible medical - testimony, that cholera (whose ravages every individual among - us knows something, alas! too well about) is in a great measure - engendered, and its progress facilitated, by the prohibitory - duties on salt in India, the very cradle of the pestilence. Our - precautionary measures to turn aside the plague from our doors, - appear to be somewhat ridiculous, while the plague itself is - suffered to exist, when it might be destroyed—its existence - being tolerated only to administer to the pecuniary advantage - of a certain small class of the community. Let the medical men - of this country look to it. Let the people of this country - generally look to it; for there is matter for grave and solemn - consideration, both nationally and individually, in the Indian - salt-tax." - -Yes, the salt-tax is very oppressive; but it _pays_ those who -authorized its assessment, and that is sufficient for them. When they -discover some means of obtaining its equivalent—some oppression quite -as cruel but not so obvious—we may expect to hear of the abolition of -the odious salt monopoly. - -Famines (always frightfully destructive in India) have become -more numerous than ever, under the blighting rule of the British -aristocrats. Vast tracts of country, once the support of busy -thousands, have been depopulated by these dreadful visitations. - - "The soil seems to lie under a curse. Instead of yielding - abundance for the wants of its own population and the inhabitants - of other regions, it does not keep in existence its own children. - It becomes the burying-place of millions who die upon its bosom - crying for bread. In proof of this, turn your eyes backward upon - the scenes of the past year. Go with me into the North-west - provinces of the Bengal presidency, and I will show you the - bleaching skeletons of five hundred thousand human beings, who - perished of hunger in the space of a few short months. Yes, - died of hunger, in what has been justly called the granary of - the world. Bear with me, if I speak of the scenes which were - exhibited during the prevalence of this famine. The air for miles - was poisoned by the effluvia emitted from the putrefying bodies - of the dead. The rivers were choked with the corpses thrown - into their channels. Mothers cast their little ones beneath the - rolling waves, because they would not see them draw their last - gasp and feel them stiffen in their arms. The English in the - cities were prevented from taking their customary evening drives. - Jackals and vultures approached, and fastened upon the bodies - of men, women, and children before life was extinct. Madness, - disease, despair stalked abroad, and no human power present to - arrest their progress. It was the carnival of death. And this - occurred in British India—in the reign of Victoria the First. - Nor was the event extraordinary and unforeseen. Far from it: - 1835-36 witnessed a famine in the Northern provinces; 1833 beheld - one to the eastward; 1822-23 saw one in the Deccan." - -The above extract from one of George Thompson's "Lectures on India," -conveys an idea of the horrors of a famine in that country. What then -must be the guilt of that government that adopts such measures as -tend to increase the frequency and swell the horror of these scenes! -By draining the resources of the people, and dooming them to the most -pinching poverty, the British conquerors have greatly increased the -dangers of the visitations of famine, and opened to it a wide field for -destruction. The poor Hindoos may be said to live face to face with -starvation. The following account of the famine of 1833 is given by -Colonel Sleeman, in his "Rambles and Recollections:"— - - "During the famine of 1833, as on all similar occasions, grain - of every kind, attracted by high prices, flowed up in large - streams from this favoured province (Malwa) toward Bundelcund; - and the population of Bundelcund, as usual in such times of - dearth and scarcity, flowed off toward Malwa against the stream - of supply, under the assurance that the nearer they got to the - source the greater would be their chance of employment and - subsistence. Every village had its numbers of the dead and the - dying; and the roads were all strewed with them; but they were - mostly concentrated upon the great towns, and civil and military - stations, where subscriptions were open for their support by - both the European and native communities. The funds arising from - these subscriptions lasted till the rain had fairly set in, when - all able-bodied persons could easily find employment in tillage - among the agricultural communities of the villages around. - After the rains have fairly set in, the _sick_ and _helpless_ - only should be kept concentrated upon large towns and stations, - where little or no employment is to be found; for the oldest - and youngest of those who are able to work can then easily find - employment in weeding the cotton, rice, sugar-cane, and other - fields under autumn crops, and in preparing the land for the - reception of the wheat, grain, and other spring seeds; and get - advances from the farmers, agricultural capitalists, and other - members of the village communities, who are all glad to share - their superfluities with the distressed, and to pay liberally for - the little service they are able to give in return. - - "At large places, where the greater numbers are concentrated, the - scene becomes exceedingly distressing, for in spite of the best - dispositions and greatest efforts on the part of government and - its officers, and the European and native communities, thousands - commonly die of starvation. At Saugor, mothers, as they lay in - the streets unable to walk, were seen holding up their infants, - and imploring the passing stranger to take them in slavery, - that they might at least live—hundreds were seen creeping into - gardens, courtyards, and old ruins, concealing themselves under - shrubs, grass, mats, or straw, where they might die quietly, - without having their bodies torn by birds and beasts before the - breath had left them! Respectable families, who left home in - search of the favoured land of Malwa, while yet a little property - remained, finding all exhausted, took opium rather than beg, and - husband, wife, and children died in each other's arms! Still more - of such families lingered on in hope until all had been expended; - then shut their doors, took poison, and died all together, - rather than expose their misery, and submit to the degradation - of begging. All these things I have myself known and seen; and - in the midst of these and a hundred other harrowing scenes which - present themselves on such occasions, the European cannot fail to - remark the patient resignation with which the poor people submit - to their fate; and the absence of almost all those revolting - acts which have characterized the famines of which he has read - in other countries—such as the living feeding on the dead, - and mothers devouring their own children. No such things are - witnessed in Indian famines; here all who suffer attribute the - disaster to its real cause, the want of rain in due season; and - indulge in no feelings of hatred against their rulers, superiors, - or more fortunate equals in society, who happen to live beyond - the influence of such calamities. They gratefully receive the - superfluities which the more favoured are always found ready to - share with the afflicted in India; and though their sufferings - often subdue the strongest of all pride—the pride of caste, - they rarely ever drive people to acts of violence. The stream of - emigration, guided as it always is by that of the agricultural - produce flowing in from the more favoured countries, must - necessarily concentrate upon the communities along the line it - takes a greater number of people than they have the means of - relieving, however benevolent their dispositions; and I must say, - that I have never either seen or read of a nobler spirit than - seems to animate all classes of these communities in India on - such distressing occasions." - -The same writer has some judicious general remarks upon the causes of -famine in India, which are worthy of quotation. We have only to add, -that whatever may be found in the climate and character of the country -that expose the people to the frequency of want, the conquerors have -done their best to aggravate natural evils:— - - "In India, unfavourable seasons produce much more disastrous - consequences than in Europe. In England, not more than one-fourth - of the population derive their incomes from the cultivation of - the land around them. Three-fourths of the people have incomes, - independent of the annual returns from those lands; and with - these incomes they can purchase agricultural produce from other - lands when the crops upon them fail. The farmers, who form so - large a portion of the fourth class, have stock equal in value - to _four times the amount of the annual rent of their lands_. - They have also a great variety of crops; and it is very rare - that more than one or two of them fail, or are considerably - affected, the same season. If they fail in one district or - province, the deficiency is very easily supplied to people who - have equivalents to give for the produce of another. The sea, - navigable rivers, fine roads, all are open and ready at all times - for the transport of the super-abundance of one quarter to supply - the deficiencies of another. In India the reverse of all this - is unhappily everywhere to be found; more than three-fourths of - the whole population are engaged in the cultivation of the land, - and depend upon its annual returns for subsistence. The farmers - and cultivators have none of them stock equal in value to more - than _half the amount of the annual rents of their lands_. They - have a great variety of crops; but all are exposed to the same - accidents, and commonly fail at the same time. The autumn crops - are sown in June and July, and ripen in October and November; - and if seasonable showers do not fall in July, August, and - September, all fail. The spring crops are sown in October and - November, and ripen in March; and if seasonable showers do not - happen to fall during December or January, all, save what are - artificially irrigated, fail. If they fail in one district or - province, the people have few equivalents to offer for a supply - of land produce from any other. Their roads are scarcely anywhere - passable for wheeled carriages at _any season_, and nowhere _at - all seasons_—they have nowhere a navigable canal, and only in - one line a navigable river. Their land produce is conveyed upon - the backs of bullocks, that move at the rate of six or eight - miles a day, and add one hundred per cent. to the cost for every - hundred miles they carry it in the best seasons, and more than - two hundred in the worst. What in Europe is felt merely as a - _dearth_, becomes in India, under all these disadvantages, a - _scarcity_; and what is there a _scarcity_ becomes here a famine." - -Another illustration of the truth that poverty is the source of crime -and depravity is found in India. Statistics and the evidence of recent -travellers show that the amount of vice in the different provinces is -just in proportion to the length of time they have been under British -rule. No stronger proof of the iniquity of the government—of its -poisonous tendencies as well as positive injustice—could be adduced. - -The cultivation and exportation of the pernicious drug, opium, which -destroys hundreds of thousands of lives annually, have latterly been -prominent objects of the East Indian government. The best tracts -of land in India were chosen for the cultivation of the poppy. The -people were told that they must either raise this plant, make opium, -or give up their land. Furthermore, those who produced the drug were -compelled to sell it to the Company. In the Bengal Presidency, the -monopoly of the government is complete. It has its establishment for -the manufacture of the drug. There are two great agencies at Ghazeepore -and Patna, for the Benares and Bahar provinces. Each opium agent has -several deputies in different districts, and a native establishment. -They enter into contracts with the cultivator for the supply of opium -at a rate fixed to suit the demand. The land-revenue authorities do -not interfere, except to prevent cultivation without permission. The -land cultivated is measured, and all the produce must be sold to the -government. At the head agency the opium is packed in chests and sealed -with the Company's seal.[112] - -The imperial government of China, seeing that the traffic in opium was -sowing misery and death among its subjects, prohibited the introduction -of the drug within the empire in 1839. But the British had a vast -amount of capital at stake, and the profits of the trade were too -great to be relinquished for any considerations of humanity. War was -declared; thousands of Chinese were slaughtered, and the imperial -government forced to permit the destructive traffic on a more extensive -scale than ever, and to pay $2,000,000 besides for daring to protest -against it! - -The annual revenue now realized from the opium traffic amounts to -£3,500,000. It is estimated that about 400,000 Chinese perish every -year in consequence of using the destructive drug, while the amount -of individual and social misery proceeding from the same cause is -appalling to every humane heart. Among the people of India who have -been forced into the cultivation and manufacture of opium, the use of -it has greatly increased under the fostering care of the government. -The Company seems to be aware that a people enervated by excessive -indulgence will make little effort to throw off the chains of slavery. -Keep the Hindoo drunk with opium and he will not rebel. - -The effects of this drug upon the consumer are thus described by a -distinguished Chinese scholar:—"It exhausts the animal spirits, -impedes the regular performance of business, wastes the flesh and -blood, dissipates every kind of property, renders the person -ill-favoured, promotes obscenity, discloses secrets, violates the laws, -attacks the vitals, and destroys life." This statement is confirmed by -other natives, and also by foreign residents; and it is asserted that, -as a general rule, a person does not live more than ten years after -becoming addicted to the use of this drug. - -The recent Burmese war had for one of its objects the opening of -a road to the interior of China, for the purpose of extending the -opium trade. And for such an object thousands of brave Burmese were -slaughtered, fertile and beautiful regions desolated, and others -subjected to the peculiar slave-system of the East India Company. The -extension of British dominion and the accumulation of wealth in British -hands, instead of the spread of Christianity and the development of -civilization, mark all the measures of the Company. - -William Howitt, one of the ablest as well as the most democratic -writers of England, thus confirms the statements made above:— - - "The East India Company exists by monopolies of the land, of - opium, and of salt. By their narrow, greedy, and purblind - management of these resources, they have contrived to reduce - that once affluent country to the uttermost depths of poverty - and pauperism. The people starve and perish in famine every - now and then by half a million at a time. One-third of that - superb peninsula is reduced to waste and jungle. While other - colonies pay from twenty to thirty shillings per head of revenue, - India yields only four shillings per head. The income of the - government at the last renewal of the charter was _twenty - millions_; it is now reduced to about _seventeen millions_; and - even to raise this, they have been obliged to double the tax - on salt. The debt was _forty millions_; it is now said to be - augmented by constant war, and the payment of the dividends, - which, whatever the real proceeds, are always kept up to - the usual height, to _seventy millions_. This is a state of - things which cannot last. It is a grand march toward financial - inanition. It threatens, if not arrested by the voice of the - British people, the certain and no very distant loss of India. - - "We have some glimpses of the treatment of the people in the - collection of the land-tax, as it is called, but really the rent. - The government claims not the mere right of governing, but, as - conquerors, the fee-simple of the land. Over the greater part of - India there are no real freeholders. The land is the Company's, - and they collect, not a tax, but a rent. They have their - collectors all over India, who go and say as the crops stand, 'We - shall take so much of this.' It is seldom less than one-half—it - is more commonly sixty, seventy, and eighty per cent! This is - killing the goose to come at the golden egg. It drives the people - to despair; they run away and leave the land to become jungle; - they perish by famine in thousands and tens of thousands. - - "This is why no capitalists dare to settle and grow for us - cotton, or manufacture for us sugar. There is no security—no - fixity of taxation. It is one wholesale system of arbitrary - plunder, such as none but a conquered country in the first - violence of victorious license ever was subjected to. But this - system has here continued more than a generation; the country is - reduced by it to a fatal condition—the only wonder is that we - yet retain it at all. - - "The same system is pursued in the opium monopoly. The finest - lands are taken for the cultivation of the poppy; the government - give the natives what they please for the opium, often about as - many shillings as they get paid for it guineas per pound, and - ship it off to curse China with it. 'In India,' says a writer - in the Chinese Repository, 'the extent of territory occupied - with the poppy, and the amount of population engaged in its - cultivation and the preparation of opium, are far greater than - in any other part of the world.' - - "Turkey is said to produce only 2000 chests of opium annually; - India produces 40,000 of 134 lbs. each, and yielding a revenue of - about £4,000,000 sterling. - - "But perhaps worse than all is the salt monopoly. It is well - known that the people of India are a vegetable diet people. - Boiled rice is their chief food, and salt is an absolute - necessary of life. With a vegetable diet in that hot climate, - without plenty of salt, putrid diseases and rapid mortality are - inevitable. Nature, or Providence, has therefore given salt - in abundance. The sea throws it up already crystallized in - many places; in others it is prepared by evaporation; but the - Company steps in and imposes _two hundred per cent._ on this - indispensable article, and guards it by such penalties that the - native dare not stoop to gather it when it lies at his feet. The - consequence is that mortality prevails, to a terrific extent - often, among the population. Officers of government are employed - to destroy the salt naturally formed; and government determines - how much salt shall be annually consumed. - - "Now, let the people of England mark one thing. _The cholera - originates in the East._ It has visited us once, and is on its - march once more toward us. We have heard through the newspapers - of its arrival in Syria, in Turkey, in Russia, at Vienna. In a - few months it will probably be again among us. - - "_Has any one yet imagined that this scourge may possibly be the - instrument of Divine retribution for our crimes and cruelties?_ - Has any one imagined that we have any thing to do with the - creation of this terrible pestilence? Yet there is little, there - is scarcely the least doubt, that this awful instrument of death - is occasioned by this very monopoly of salt—that it is the - direct work of the four-and-twenty men in Leadenhall-street. - The cholera is found to arise in the very centre of India. - It commences in the midst of this swarming population, which - subsists on vegetables, and which is deprived by the British - government of the necessary salt! In that hot climate it acquires - a deadly strength—thousands perish by it as by the stroke of - lightning, and it hence radiates over the globe, travelling at - the speed of a horse in full gallop. Thus it is that God visits - our deeds upon our heads. - - "Such is a brief glance at the mal-administration, the abuse, - and the murderous treatment of India, permitted by great and - Christian England to a knot of mere money-making traders. We - commit the lives and happiness of one hundred and fifty millions - of souls—the well-being, and probably the chance of retention, - of one of the finest countries in the world, and the comfort and - prosperity of every human creature in Great Britain, to the hands - of those who are only, from day to day, grasping at the vitals - of this glorious Eastern region to increase their dividends. - This is bad enough, but this is not all. As if we had given them - a charter in the most effectual manner to damage our dominions - and blast all our prospects of trade, we have allowed these - four-and-twenty men of Leadenhall-street not only to cripple - India, but to exasperate and, as far as possible, close China - against us. Two millions of people in India and three millions of - people in China—all waiting for our manufactures, all capable - of sending us the comforts and necessaries that we need—it - would seem that to us, a nation especially devoted to trade, as - if Providence had opened all the gorgeous and populous East to - employ and to enrich us. One would have thought that every care - and anxiety would have been aroused to put ourselves on the best - footing with this swarming region. It has been the last thing - thought of. - - "The men of Leadenhall-street have been permitted, after having - paralyzed India, to send to China not the articles that the - Chinese wanted, but the very thing of all others that its - authorities abhorred—that is, opium. - - "It is well known with what assiduity these traders for years - thrust this deadly drug into the ports of China; or it may be - known from 'Medhurst's China,' from 'Thelwall's Iniquities of - the Opium Trade,' from 'Montgomery Martin's Opium in China,' - and various other works. It is well known what horrors, crimes, - ruin of families, and destruction of individuals the rage of - opium-smoking introduced among the millions of the Celestial - Empire. Every horror, every species of reckless desperation, - social depravity, and sensual crime, spread from the practice - and overran China as a plague. The rulers attempted to stop the - evil by every means in their power. They enacted the severest - punishments for the sale of it. These did not avail. They - augmented the punishment to death. Without a stop to it the whole - framework of society threatened to go to pieces. 'Opium,' says - the Imperial edict itself, 'coming from the distant regions of - barbarians, has pervaded the country with its baneful influence.' - The opium-smoker would steal, sell his property, his children, - the mother of his children, and finally commit murder for it. The - most ghastly spectacles were everywhere seen; instead of healthy - and happy men, the most repulsive scenes. 'I visited one of the - opium-houses,' said an individual quoted by Sir Robert Inglis, - in the House of Commons, in 1843, 'and shall I tell you what I - saw in this antechamber of hell? I thought it impossible to find - anything worse than the results of drinking ardent spirits; but - I have succeeded in finding something far worse. I saw Malays, - Chinese, men and women, old and young, in one mass, in one common - herd, wallowing in their filth, beastly, sensual, devilish, and - this under the eyes of a Christian government.' - - "They were these abominations and horrors that the Emperor of - China determined to arrest. They were these which our East India - Company determined to perpetuate for this base gain. When the - emperor was asked to license the sale of opium, as he could not - effect its exclusion, and thus make a profit of it, what was his - reply? '_It is true I cannot prevent the introduction of the - flowing poison. Gain-seeking and corrupt men will, for profit - and sensuality, defeat my wishes, but nothing will induce me to - derive a benefit from the vice and misery of my people._' - - "These were the sentiments of the Chinese monarch; what was the - conduct of the so-called Christian Englishmen? They determined to - go on poisoning and demoralizing China, till they provoked the - government to war, and then massacred the people to compel the - continuance of the sale of opium." - -Howitt evidently has as ardent a sympathy for those who have -suffered from the tyranny of British rule as Edmund Burke himself. -The wholesale degradation of the Hindoos, which has resulted from -the measures of the East India Company, calls loudly indeed for -the denunciations of indignant humanity. The crime must have its -punishment. The ill-gotten gains of the Company should be seized to -carry out an ameliorating policy, and all concerned in enforcing the -system of oppression should be taught that justice is not to be wounded -with impunity. - -The burdens imposed upon the Hindoos are precisely of the character and -extent of those that have reduced Ireland to poverty and her people to -slavery. Besides the enormous rents, which are sufficient of themselves -to dishearten the tillers of the soil, the British authorities seem to -have exhausted invention in devising taxes. So dear a price to live -was never paid by any people except the Irish. What remains to the -cultivator when the rent of the land and almost forty different taxes -are paid? - -Those Hindoos who wish to employ capital or labour in any other way -than in cultivation of land are deterred by the formidable array -of taxation. The chief taxes are styled the Veesabuddy, or tax on -merchants, traders, and shopkeepers; the Mohturfa, or tax on weavers, -carpenters, stonecutters, and other mechanical trades; and the -Bazeebab, consisting of smaller taxes annually rented out to the -highest bidder. The proprietor of the Bazeebab is thus constituted a -petty chieftain, with power to exact fees at marriages and religious -ceremonies; to inquire into and fine the misconduct of females in -families, and other misdemeanours—in fact, petty tyrants, who -can at all times allege engagements to the government to justify -extortion.[113] These proprietors are the worst kind of slaveholders. - -The mode of settling the Mohturfa on looms is remarkable for the -precision of its exaction. Every circumstance of the weaver's family -is considered; the number of days which he devotes to his loom, the -number of his children, the assistance which he receives from them, and -the number and quality of the pieces which he can produce in a year; -so that, let him exert himself as he will, his industry will always be -taxed to the highest degree.[114] This method is so detailed that the -servants of the government cannot enter into it, and the assessment -of the tax is therefore left to the heads of the villages. It is -impossible for a weaver to know what he is to pay to the government for -being allowed to carry on his business till the yearly demand is made. -If he has worked hard, and turned out one or two pieces of cloth more -than he did the year before, his tax is increased. The more industrious -he is the more he is forced to pay. - -The tax-gatherers are thorough inquisitors. According to Rikards, -upward of seventy different kinds of buildings—the houses, shops, -or warehouses of different castes and professions—were ordered to be -entered into the survey accounts; besides the following implements of -professions, which were usually assessed to the public revenue, viz.: -"Oil-mills, iron manufactory, toddy-drawer's stills, potter's kiln, -washerman's stone, goldsmith's tools, sawyer's saw, toddy-drawer's -knives, fishing-nets, barber's hones, blacksmith's anvils, -pack-bullocks, cocoa-nut safe, small fishing-boats, cotton-beater's -bow, carpenter's tools, large fishing-boats, looms, salt-storehouses. -If a landlord objects to the assessment on trees, as old and past -bearing, they are, one and all, ordered to be cut down—a measure as -ridiculous as unjust—as it not only inflicts injury upon the landlord, -but takes away the chance of future profit for the government. Mr. -Rikards bears witness, as a collector of Malabar, that lands and -produce were sometimes inserted in the survey account which absolutely -did not exist, while other lands were assessed to the revenue at more -than their actual produce. From all this, it is obvious that the Hindoo -labourer or artisan is the slave of the tax-collector, who, moreover, -has no interest in the life of his victim. - -Labour being almost "dirt cheap" in India, whenever speculating -companies of Englishmen wish to carry out any particular scheme -for which labourers are required, they hire a number of Hindoo -Coolies, induce them to visit any port of the country, and treat them -abominably, knowing that the poor wretches have no protection. The -operations of the Assam Tea Company illustrate this practice:— - - "An inconsiderate expenditure of capital placed the Assam Tea - Company in great jeopardy, and at one time it was feared the - scheme would be abandoned. The number of managers and assistants - appointed by the Assam Company to carry on their affairs and - superintend their tea gardens, on large salaries, was quite - unnecessary; one or two experienced European superintendents - to direct the native establishment would have answered every - purpose. A vast number of Coolies (or labourers) were induced - to proceed to Upper Assam to cultivate the gardens; but bad - arrangements having been made to supply them with proper, - wholesome food, many were seized with sickness. On their - arrival at the tea-plantations, in the midst of high and dense - tree jungle, numbers absconded, and others met an untimely - end. The rice served out to the Coolies from the Assam Tea - Company's store-rooms, was so bad as not to be fit to be given - to elephants, much less to human beings. The loss of these - labourers, who had been conveyed to Upper Assam at a great - expense, deprived the company of the means of cultivating so - great an extent of country as would otherwise have been insured; - for the scanty population of Upper Assam offered no means of - replacing the deficiency of hands. Nor was the improvidence of - the company in respect to labourers the only instance of their - mismanagement. Although the company must have known that they - had no real use or necessity for a steamer, a huge vessel was - nevertheless purchased, and frequently sent up and down the - Burrampooter river from Calcutta; carrying little else than a few - thousand rupees for the payment of their establishment in Upper - Assam, which might have been transmitted through native bankers, - and have saved the company a most lavish and unprofitable - expenditure of capital."[115] - -Ay, and the expense is all that is thought worthy of consideration. -The miserable victims to the measures of the company might perish like -brutes without being even pitied. - -On the verge of starvation, as so many of the Hindoo labourers -generally are, it does not excite surprise that they are very ready -to listen to the offers of those who are engaged in the "Cooley -slave-trade." In addition to the astounding facts given by us in the -previous chapter, in regard to this traffic in men, we quote the -following from the London Spectator of October, 1838:— - - "Under Lord Glenelg's patronage, the Eastern slave-trade prospers - exceedingly. The traffic in Hill Coolies promises to become one - of the most extensive under the British flag. A cargo arrived - in Berbice about the beginning of May, in prime condition: and - the Berbice Advertiser, one of the most respectable of the West - India journals, states, that out of 289, conveyed in the Whitby, - only eight died on the passage, and very few were ill. Only one - circumstance was wanting to make them the happiest of human(?) - beings—only eight women were sent as companions for the 280 - men; and the deficiency of females was the more to be regretted - because it was 'probable they would be shunned by the negroes - from jealousy and speaking a different language.' - - "The same newspaper contains a very curious document respecting - the Hill Cooley traffic. It is a circular letter, dated the 8th - January, 1838, from Henley, Dowson, and Bethel, of Calcutta, the - agents most extensively engaged in the shipment of labourers from - India to the Mauritius and British Guiana. These gentlemen thus - state their claims to preference over other houses in the same - business:— - - "'We have within the last two years procured and shipped - upward of 5000 free agricultural labourers for our friends at - Mauritius; and, from the circumstance of nearly 500 of the - number being employed on estates in which we possess a direct - interest, we can assure you that a happier and more contented - labouring population is seldom to be met with in any part of the - world, than the Dhargas or mountain tribes sent from this vast - country.' - - "Five thousand within two years to the Mauritius alone! This - is pretty well, considering that the trade is in its infancy. - As to the statement of the happiness and contentment of the - labourers, rather more impartial evidence than the good word of - the exporters of the commodity advertised would be desirable. - If Englishmen could fancy themselves Hill Coolies for an - instant—landed in Berbice, in the proportion of 280 men to 8 of - the gentler sex, 'speaking a different language,' and shunned by - the very negroes—we are inclined to think they would not, even - in that imaginary and momentary view, conceit themselves to be - among the happiest of mankind. - - "We proceed with the Calcutta circular:— - - "'The labourers hitherto procured by us have cost their - employers, _landed at the Mauritius_, about one hundred rupees - (or 10_l._ sterling) per man; which sum comprises six months' - advance of wages, provisions and water for the voyage, clothing, - commission, passage, insurance, and all incidental charges.' - - "'The expense attending the shipment of Indian labourers to the - West India Colonies would be necessarily augmented—firstly, by - the higher rate of passage-money, and the increased quantity of - provisions and water; and, secondly, from the necessity of making - arrangements, indispensable to the health and comfort of native - passengers, on a voyage of so long a duration, in the course of - which they would be exposed to great vicissitude of climate. - - "'On making ample allowance for these charges, we do not - apprehend that a labourer, sent direct from this country to - Demerara, and engaged to work on your estates for a period of - five consecutive years, would cost, landed there, above two - hundred and ten rupees, or 21_l._ sterling.' - - "This sum of 210 rupees includes _six months' wages_—at what - rate does the reader suppose? Why, five rupees, or ten shillings - sterling a month—half-a-crown a week—in Demerara! The passage - is 10_l._, and the insurance 12_s._; for they are insured at so - much a head, like pigs or sheep. - - "It is manifest that after their arrival in Demerara, the Indians - will not, unless on compulsion, work for five years at the - rate of 10_s._ a month, while the negroes receive much higher - wages. They are therefore placed under strict control, and are - just as much slaves as the Redemptioners, whom the virtuous - Quakers inveigled into Pennsylvania a century or more ago. The - Indians bind themselves to work in town or country, wherever - their consignee or master may choose to employ them. One of the - articles of their agreement is this:— - - "'In order that the undersigned natives of India may be fully - aware of the engagement they undertake, it is hereby notified, - that they will be required to do _all such work as the object - for which they are engaged necessitates_; and that, as labourers - attached to an estate, they will be required to clear forest and - extract timber, carry manure, dig and prepare land for planting, - also to take charge of horses, mules, and cattle of every - description; _in short, to do all such work as an estate for the - cultivation of sugar-cane and the manufacture of sugar demands_, - or any branch of agriculture to which they may be destined.' - - "In case of disobedience or misconduct—that is, at the caprice - of the master—they may be 'degraded,' and sent back at their own - charge to Calcutta. They are to receive no wages during illness; - and a rupee a month is to be deducted from their wages—thereby - reducing them to 2_s._ a week—as an indemnity-fund for the - cost of sending them back. What security there is for the kind - treatment of the labourers does not appear: there is nothing in - the contract but a promise to act equitably. - - "Now, in what respect do these men differ in condition from - negro slaves, except very much for the worse? They must be more - helpless than the negroes—if for no other reason, because of - their ignorance of the language their masters use. They will not, - for a long period certainly, be formidable from their numbers. - How easily may even the miserable terms of the contract with - their employers be evaded! Suppose the Indian works steadily for - four years, it may suit his master to describe him as refractory - and idle during the fifth, and then he will be sent back at his - own cost; and the whole of his earnings may be expended in paying - for his passage to Calcutta, where, after all, he is a long way - from home. - - "It is impossible to contemplate without pain the inevitable lot - of these helpless beings; but the conduct of the government, - which could sanction the infamous commerce of which the Hill - Cooley will be the victims, while professing all the while - such a holy horror of dealing in negroes, should rouse general - indignation. - - Is it only a certain shade of black, and a peculiar physical - conformation, which excites the compassion of the Anti-Slavery - people? If it is cruelty, oppression, and fraud which they abhor - and desire to prevent, then let them renew their agitation in - behalf of the kidnapped natives of India, now suffering, probably - more acutely, all that made the lot of the negro a theme for - eloquence and a field for Christian philanthropy." - -This is written in the right spirit. The trade described has increased -to an extent which calls for the interference of some humane power. -Should the British government continue to sanction the traffic, it must -stand responsible for a national crime. - -Oppressive and violent as the British dominion in India undoubtedly -is, the means devised to extend it are even more worthy of strong -condemnation. The government fixes its eyes upon a certain province, -where the people are enjoying peace and plenty, and determines to -get possession of it. The Romans themselves were not more fertile -in pretences for forcible seizure of territory than these British -plunderers. They quickly hunt up a pretender to the throne, support his -claims with a powerful army, make him their complete tool, dethrone -the lawful sovereign, and extend their authority over the country. The -course pursued toward Afghanistan in 1838 illustrates this outrageous -violation of national rights. - -The following account of the origin and progress of the Afghanistan war -is given by an English writer in the Penny Magazine:— - - "In 1747, Ahmeed Shah, an officer of an Afghan troop in the - service of Persia, refounded the Afghan monarchy, which was - maintained until the death of his successor in 1793. Ahmeed - was of the Douranee tribe, and the limits over which his sway - extended is spoken of as the Douranee empire. Four of the sons of - Ahmeed's successor disputed, and in turn possessed, the throne; - and during this civil war several of the principal chiefs threw - off their allegiance, and the Douranee empire ceased to exist, - but was split up into the chiefships of Candahar, Herat, Caboul, - and Peshawur. Herat afterward became a dependency of Persia, and - Shah Shooja ool Moolook, the chief of Peshawur, lost his power - after having enjoyed it for about six years. Dost Mohammed Kahn, - the chief of Caboul, according to the testimony of the late - Sir Alexander Burnes, writing in 1832, governed his territory - with great judgment, improved its internal administration and - resources, and became the most powerful chief in Afghanistan. - Shah Shooja was for many years a fugitive and a pensioner of the - British government. He made one unsuccessful attempt to regain - his territory, but Peshawur eventually became a tributary to the - ruler of the Punjab. Such was the state of Afghanistan in 1836. - - "In the above year the Anglo-Indian government complained that - Dost Mohammed Khan, chief of Caboul, had engaged in schemes of - aggrandizement which threatened the stability of the British - frontier in India; and Sir Alexander Burnes, who was sent with - authority to represent to him the light in which his proceedings - were viewed, was compelled to leave Caboul without having - effected any change in his conduct. The siege of Herat, and the - support which both Dost Mohammed and his brother, the chief of - Candahar, gave to the designs of Persia in Afghanistan, the - latter chief especially openly assisting the operations against - Herat, created fresh alarm in the Anglo-Indian government as to - the security of our frontier. Several minor chiefs also avowed - their attachment to the Persians. As our policy, instead of - hostility, required an ally capable of resisting aggression on - the western frontier of India, the Governor-general, from whose - official papers we take these statements, 'was satisfied,' after - serious and mature deliberation, 'that a pressing necessity, as - well as every consideration of policy and justice, warranted - us in espousing the cause of Shah Shooja ool Moolk;' and it - was determined to place him on the throne. According to the - Governor-general, speaking from the best authority, the testimony - as to Shah Shooja's popularity was unanimous. In June, 1838, - the late Sir William Macnaghten formed a tripartite treaty with - the ruler of the Punjab and Shah Shooja; the object of which - was to restore the latter to the throne of his ancestors. This - policy it was conceived would conduce to the general freedom and - security of commerce, the restoration of tranquillity upon the - most important frontier of India, and the erection of a lasting - barrier against hostile intrigue and encroachment; and, while - British influence would thus gain its proper footing among the - nations of Central Asia, the prosperity of the Afghan people - would be promoted. - - "Troops were despatched from the Presidencies of Bengal and - Bombay to co-operate with the contingents raised by the Shah and - our other ally, the united force being intended to act together - under the name of the 'Army of the Indus.' After a march of - extraordinary length, through countries which had never before - been traversed by British troops, and defiles which are the - most difficult passes in the world, where no wheeled carriage - had ever been, and where it was necessary for the engineers in - many places to construct roads before the baggage could proceed, - the combined forces from Bengal and Bombay reached Candahar in - May, 1839. According to the official accounts, the population - were enthusiastic in welcoming the return of Shah Shooja. The - next step was to advance toward Ghiznee and Caboul. On the 23d - July, the strong and important fortress and citadel of Ghiznee, - regarded throughout Asia as impregnable, was taken in two hours - by blowing up the Caboul gate. The army had only been forty-eight - hours before the place. An 'explosion party' carried three - hundred pounds of gunpowder in twelve sand-bags, with a hose - seventy-two feet long, the train was laid and fired, the party - having just time to reach a tolerable shelter from the effects - of the concussion, though one of the officers was injured by - its force. On the 7th of August the army entered Caboul. Dost - Mohammed had recalled his son Mohammed Akhbar from Jellalabad - with the troops guarding the Khyber Pass, and their united forces - amounted to thirteen thousand men; but these troops refused to - advance, and Dost Mohammed was obliged to take precipitate fight, - accompanied only by a small number of horsemen. Shah Shooja made - a triumphant entry into Caboul, and the troops of Dost Mohammed - tendered their allegiance to him. The official accounts state - that in his progress toward Caboul he was joined by every person - of rank and influence in the country. As the tribes in the Bolan - Pass committed many outrages and murders on the followers of the - army of the Indus, at the instigation of their chief, the Khan - of Khelat, his principal town (Khelat) was taken on the 13th - of November, 1839. The political objects of the expedition had - now apparently been obtained. The hostile chiefs of Caboul and - Candahar were replaced by a friendly monarch. On the side of - Scinde and Herat, British alliance and protection were courted. - All this had been accomplished in a few months, but at an expense - said to exceed three millions sterling." - -The _expense_ of national outrage is only of importance to the sordid -and unprincipled men who conceived and superintended the Afghanistan -expedition. In the first part of the above extract, the writer -places the British government in the position of one who strikes in -self-defence. It was informed that Dost Mohammed entertained schemes -of invasion dangerous to the British supremacy—informed by the -exiled enemy of the chief of Caboul. The information was seasonable -and exceedingly useful. Straightway a treaty was formed, by which the -British agreed to place their tool for the enslavement of the Afghans -upon the throne from which he had been driven. Further on, it is -said, that when Shah Sooja appeared in Afghanistan he was joined by -every person of rank and influence in the country. Just so; and the -followers and supporters of Dost Mohammed nearly all submitted to the -superior army of the British general. But two years afterward, the -strength of the patriotic party was seen, when Caboul rose against Shah -Sooja, drove him again from the throne, and defeated and massacred a -considerable British garrison. Shah Sooja was murdered soon afterward. -But the British continued the war against the Afghans, with the object -of reducing them to the same slavery under which the remainder of -Hindostan was groaning. The violation of national rights, the massacre -of thousands, and the enslavement of millions were the glorious aims of -British policy in the Afghan expedition. The policy then carried out -has been more fully illustrated since that period. Whenever a territory -was thought desirable by the government, neither national rights, -the principles of justice and humanity, nor even the common right of -property in individuals has been respected. Wealth has been an object -for the attainment of which plunder and massacre were not considered -unworthy means. - -Said Mr. John Bright, the radical reformer of Manchester, in a speech -delivered in the House of Commons:—"It cannot be too universally -known that the cultivators of the soil (in India) are in a very -unsatisfactory condition; that they are, in truth, in a condition of -almost extreme and universal poverty. All testimony concurred upon -that point. He would call the attention of the House to the statement -of a celebrated native of India, the Rajah Rammohun Roy, who, about -twenty years ago, published a pamphlet in London, in which he pointed -out the ruinous effects of the Zemindaree system, and the oppressions -experienced by the ryots in the Presidencies of Bombay and Madras. -After describing the state of affairs generally, he added, 'Such was -the melancholy condition of the agricultural labourers, that it always -gave him the greatest pain to allude to it.' Three years afterward, Mr. -Shore, who was a judge in India, published a work which was considered -as a standard work till now, and he stated 'that the British government -was not regarded in a favourable light by the native population -of India—that a system of taxation and extortion was carried on -unparalleled in the annals of any country.'" - -From all quarters we receive unimpeachable evidence that the locust -system has performed its devouring work on the broadest scale in -India; and that the Hindoos are the victims of conquerors, slower, -indeed, in their movements, than Tamerlane or Genghis Khan, but more -destructive and more criminal than either of those great barbarian -invaders. - - - - -CHAPTER XII. - -THE CRIME AND THE DUTY OF THE ENGLISH GOVERNMENT. - - -It remains to sum up the charges against the English oligarchy, and to -point out the path which justice, humanity, and the age require the -government to pursue. In so doing, we shall go no farther than the -facts previously adduced will afford us sure ground, nor speak more -harshly than our duty to our oppressed fellow-men will demand. We pity -the criminal even while we pass sentence upon her. - -A government originating in, and suited for, a barbarous age must -necessarily be unfit for one enjoying the meridian of civilization. The -arrangement of lord and serf was appropriate to the period when war -was regarded as the chief employment of mankind, and when more respect -was paid to the kind of blood flowing in a man's veins than to his -greatness or generosity of soul. But, in the nineteenth century, war -is regarded as an evil to be avoided as long as possible. Peace is the -rule, and conflict the exception. Christianity has taught us, also, -that the good and the great in heart and mind—wherever born, wherever -bred—are the true nobility of our race. It is the sin of the English -government that it works against the bright influence of the times and -throws the gloomy shadow of feudalism over some of the fairest regions -of the earth. It legislates for the age of William the Conqueror -instead of the reign of Victoria. - -The few for hereditary luxury and dominion, the many for hereditary -misery and slavery, is the grand fundamental principle of the English -system. For every gorgeous palace there are a thousand hovels, where -even beasts should not be forced to dwell. For every lord who spends -his days in drinking, gambling, hunting, horse-racing, and indulging -himself in all the luxuries that money can purchase, a thousand -persons, at least, must toil day and night to obtain the most wretched -subsistence. In no country are the few richer than in England, and -in no country are the masses more fearfully wretched. The great bulk -of the property of England, both civil and ecclesiastical, is in the -grasp of the aristocracy. All offices of church and state, yielding -any considerable emolument, are monopolized by the lords and their -nominees. The masses earn—the lords spend. The lords have all the -property, but the masses pay all the taxes, and slave and starve that -the taxes may be paid. - -Without such a system, is it possible that there could be millions of -acres of good land lying waste, and millions of paupers who dare not -cultivate it?—that the workhouses could be crowded—that men, women, -and children could be driven to all kinds of work, and yet by the most -exhausting toil not earn enough to enable them to live decently and -comfortably—that honest and industrious people could starve by the -wayside, or die of disease engendered in dirty hovels—that vice and -crime could be practised to an appalling extent—that whole villages -could be swept away and the poor labourers either driven into the -crowded cities, or to a distant land, far from kindred and friends? - -The aristocrats of England are the most extensive slaveholders in the -world. In England, Wales, Scotland, and Ireland, they have the entire -labouring mass for their slaves—men, women, and children being doomed -to the most grinding toil to enable their masters to live in luxurious -ease. In India and the other colonies they have treated the natives -as the conquered were treated in the Middle Ages. They have drained -their resources, oppressed them in every way, and disposed of tribes -and nations as if they had been dealing with cattle. Add the slaves -of India to the slaves of the United Kingdom, and we may count them -by tens of millions. These slaves are not naturally inferior to their -masters. They belong to races fertile in great and good men and women. -Poets, artists, philosophers, historians, statesmen, and warriors of -the first magnitude in genius have sprung from these down-trodden -people. They have fully proved themselves capable of enjoying the -sweets of freedom. They remain slaves because their masters find it -profitable, and know how to cozen and bully them into submission. - -The following description of France before the great revolution of -1789, by M. Thiers, is strikingly applicable to the condition of Great -Britain at the present day:— - - "The condition of the country, both political and economical, was - intolerable. There was nothing but privilege—privilege vested - in individuals, in classes, in towns, in provinces, and even in - trades and professions. Every thing contributed to check industry - and the natural genius of man. All the dignities of the state, - civil, ecclesiastical, and military, were exclusively reserved - to certain individuals. No man could take up a profession - without certain titles and the compliance with certain pecuniary - conditions. Even the favours of the crown were converted into - family property, so that the king could scarcely exercise his - own judgment, or give any preference. Almost the only liberty - left to the sovereign was that of making pecuniary gifts, and he - had been reduced to the necessity of disputing with the Duke of - Coigny for the abolition of a useless place. Every thing, then, - was made immovable property in the hands of a few, and everywhere - these few resisted the many who had been despoiled. The burdens - of the state weighed on one class only. The noblesse and the - clergy possessed about two-thirds of the landed property; the - other third, possessed by the people, paid taxes to the king, - a long list of feudal _droits_ to the noblesse, tithes to the - clergy, and had, moreover, to support the devastations committed - by noble sportsmen and their game. The taxes upon consumption - pressed upon the great multitude, and consequently on the people. - The collection of these imposts was managed in an unfair and - irritating manner; the lords of the soil left long arrears with - impunity, but the people, upon any delay in payment, were harshly - treated, arrested, and condemned to pay in their persons, in - default of money to produce. The people, therefore, nourished - with their labour and defended with their blood the higher - classes of society, without being able to procure a comfortable - subsistence for themselves. The townspeople, a body of citizens, - industrious, educated, less miserable than the people, could - nevertheless obtain none of the advantages to which they had a - right to aspire, seeing that it was their industry that nourished - and their talents that adorned the kingdom." - -The elements of revolution are all to be found in Great Britain. A -Mirabeau, with dauntless will and stormy eloquence, could use them with -tremendous effect. Yet the giant of the people does not raise his voice -to plead the cause of the oppressed, and to awaken that irresistible -enthusiasm which would sweep away the pampered aristocracy. - -The armorial escutcheons of the aristocracy are fearfully significant -of its character. Says John Hampden, Jun.:[116]— - - "The whole emblazonment of aristocracy is one manifesto of savage - barbarism, brute force, and propensity to robbery and plunder. - What are these objects on their shields? Daggers, swords, lions' - heads, dogs' heads, arrow-heads, boars' heads, cannon balls, - clubs, with a medley of stars, moons, and unmeaning figures. - What are the crests of these arms? Lascivious goats, rampant - lions, fiery dragons, and griffins gone crazed: bulls' heads, - block-heads, arms with uplifted daggers, beasts with daggers, - and vultures tearing up helpless birds. What, again, are the - supporters of these shields? What are the emblems of the powers - by which they are maintained and upheld? The demonstration is - deeply significant. They are the most singular assemblage of - all that is fierce, savage, rampageous, villanous, lurking, - treacherous, blood-thirsty, cruel, and bestial in bestial - natures. They are infuriated lions, boars, and tigers; they - are raging bulls, filthy goats, horrid hyenas, snarling dogs, - drunken bears, and mad rams; they are foxes, wolves, panthers, - every thing that is creeping, sneaking, thievish, and perfidious. - Nay, nature cannot furnish emblems extensive enough, and so - start up to our astonished sight the most hideous shapes of - fiendlike dragons and griffins, black, blasted as by infernal - fires; the most fuliginous of monsters; and if the human shape - is assumed for the guardians and supporters of aristocracy, they - are wild and savage men, armed with clubs and grim with hair, - scowling brute defiance, and seeming ready to knock down any man - at the command of their lords. Ay, the very birds of prey are - called in; and eagles, vultures, cormorants, in most expressive - attitudes, with most ludicrous embellishments of crowned heads, - collared necks, escutcheoned sides, and with hoisted wings and - beaks of open and devouring wrath, proclaim the same great - truth, that aristocracy is of the class of what the Germans call - _Raub-thieren_, or robber-beasts—in our vernacular, _beasts of - prey_." - -And the character thus published to the world has been acted out to the -full from the days of the bastard Duke of Normandy and his horde of -ruffians to the time of the "Iron Duke" and his associates in title and -plunder. The hyenas and vultures have never been satisfied. - -The crime of England lies in maintaining the slavery of a barbarous -age in the middle of the nineteenth century; in keeping her slaves in -physical misery, mental darkness, moral depravity, and heathenism; -in carrying fire and sword into some of the loveliest regions of -the earth, in order to gratify that thirst for wealth and dominion -ever characteristic of an aristocracy; in forcing her slaves in -India to cultivate poison, and her weak neighbours of China to buy -it; in plundering and oppressing the people of all her colonies; in -concentrating the wealth of the United Kingdom and the dependencies -in the purses of a few persons, and thus dooming all others beneath -her iron rule to constant, exhausting, and unrewarded toil! We arraign -her before the tribunal of justice and humanity, as the most powerful -and destructive of tyrannies; as the author of Ireland's miseries, -and a course of action toward that island compared with which the -dismemberment of Poland was merciful; as the remorseless conqueror of -the Hindoos; as a government so oppressive that her people are flying -by thousands to the shores of America to escape its inflictions! Though -most criminals plead "not guilty," she cannot have the front to do so! -The general judgment of civilized mankind has long ago pronounced a -verdict of conviction. - -Yet, guilty as is the English oligarchy, certain of its members -have taken to lecturing the world about the duties of Christians -and philanthropists. This, we suppose, in charity, is done upon the -principle given by Hamlet to his mother— - - "Assume a virtue if you have it not." - -But a loftier authority than Shakspeare tells us to remove the beam -from our own eye before we point to the mote that is in the eye of -a brother. Example, also, is more powerful than precept. Pious -exhortations from a villain are usually disregarded. A preacher should -never have the blood of slaughtered victims on his hands. - -We think it not difficult to show that England is the best friend of -slavery, while professing an aversion to it, and dictating to other -governments to strive for its abolition. At an enormous expense, she -maintains men-of-war upon the coast of Africa, with the object of -suppressing the trade in negro slaves. This expense her white slaves -are taxed to pay; while the men-of-war have not only not suppressed -the slave-trade, but have doubled its horrors, by compelling the -slave-traders to inflict new tortures upon the negroes they capture -and conceal. In the mean time, the government is doing all in its -power to impoverish and enslave (for the slavery of a people follows -its poverty) the more intelligent races of the world. England prides -herself upon her efforts to destroy the trade in African savages and -chattel slavery. Her philanthropy is all black; miserable wretches with -pale faces have no claims upon her assisting hand; and she refuses to -recognise the only kind of slavery by which masters are necessitated -to provide well for their slaves, while she enforces that system which -starves them! England is the best friend of the most destructive -species of slavery, and has extended it over tens of millions of human -beings. - -Justice, humanity, and the age demand the abolition of this exhausting, -famine-breeding, and murderous system. It is hostile to every principle -of right—to civilization, and to the loving spirit of Christianity. -Starving millions groan beneath the yoke. From the crowded factories -and workshops—from the pestilential hovels—from the dark and -slave-filled coal-pits—from the populous workhouses—from the vast -army of wandering beggars in England and Scotland—from the perishing -peasantry of Ireland—from the wretched Hindoos upon the Ganges and the -Indus—from the betrayed Coolies in the West-India Islands—arises the -cry for relief from the plunderers and the oppressors. "How long, O -Lord, how long!" - -A few thousand persons own the United Kingdom. They have robbed and -reduced to slavery not only their own countrymen, but millions in -other lands. They continue to rob wherever they find an opportunity. -They spend what their crime has accumulated in all kinds of vice and -dissipation, and rear their children to the same courses. Money raised -for religious purposes they waste in luxurious living. They trade in -all the offices of church and state. They persecute, by exclusion, -all who do not subscribe to "thirty-nine articles" which they wish to -force upon mankind. In brief, the oligarchy lies like an incubus upon -the empire, and the people cannot call themselves either free or happy -until the aristocrats be driven from their high places. Burst, then, -the chains, ye countrymen of Hampden and Vane! Show to the world that -the old fire is not yet quenched! that the spirits of your martyrs to -liberty are yet among you, and their lessons in your hearts! Obtain -your freedom—peaceably, if you can—_but obtain it_, for it expands -and ennobles the life of a nation! In the air of liberty alone can -a people enjoy a healthy existence. A day of real freedom is worth -more than years in a dungeon. What have you to dread? Do you not know -your strength? Be assured, this aristocracy could not stand an hour, -were you resolved against its existence! It would be swept away as a -feather before a hurricane. Do you fear that much blood would flow in -the struggle? Consider the hundreds of thousands who are crushed out of -existence every year by this aristocracy, and ask yourselves if it is -not better that the system should be over-thrown, even at the expense -of blood, than that it should continue its destructive career? Had -not men better make an effort to secure freedom and plenty for their -posterity, than starve quietly by the wayside? These are the questions -you should take home to your hearts. One grand, determined, glorious -effort, and you are free. - - "Hereditary bondsmen, know ye not - Who would be free, themselves must strike the blow?" - - - - -FOOTNOTES: - -[1] The butties are the men who superintend the conveyance of the coal -from the digger to the pit-shaft. - -[2] To _hurry_ is to draw or push the coal-cars. - -[3] Mitchell, Evidence, No. 7; App. pt. i. p. 65, 1. 31. - -[4] Ibid. in loco. - -[5] Fellows, Report, s. 58; App. pt. ii. p. 256. - -[6] Mitchell, Evidence, No. 99; App. pt. i. p. 155, 1. 8. - -[7] Dr. Mitchell, Report, s. 314; App. pt. i. p. 39. - -[8] Fellows, Evidence, No. 10; App. pt. ii. p. 266, 1. 10. - -[9] Symons, Report, s. 200; App. pt. i. p. 193. - -[10] Wood, Report, s. 36; App. pt. ii. p. H 7. Also Evidence, Nos. 60, -75, 76. - -[11] Kennedy, Report, s. 296; App. pt. ii. p. 188. - -[12] Ibid. s. 304; p. 188. - -[13] Austin, Evidence, No. 1; App. pt. ii. p. 811; i. 12. See also the -remarks by Mr. Fletcher on the vicinity of Oldham, App. pt. ii. s. 59, -p. 832. - -[14] Mitchell, Report, s. 214; App. pt. i. p. 143. - -[15] Mitchell, Evidence, No. 97; App. pt. i. p. 154, 1. 19. - -[16] Leifchild, Report, s. 72; App. pt. i. p. 252. - -[17] Leifchild, Evidence, No. 97; App. pt. i. p. 587, 1. 39. - -[18] Ibid. No. 497, p. 665, 1. 7. - -[19] Ibid. No. 504, p. 672, 1. 22. - -[20] Symons, Report, s. 22; App. pt. i. p. 302. - -[21] Symons, Evidence, No. 312; App. pt. i. p. 305, 1. 59. - -[22] Franks, Report, App. A, No. 2; App. pt. i. p. 410, 411. - -[23] Franks, Report, s. 85; App. pt. ii. p. 485. - -[24] Franks, Evidence, No. 144; App. pt. ii. p. 582, 1. 4. - -[25] Ibid. No. 2, p. 503, 1. 21. - -[26] R. W. Jones, Evidence, No. 102; App. pt. ii. p. 64, 1. 28. - -[27] Fellows, Report, s. 45; App. pt. ii. p. 255. - -[28] Symons, Report, s. 110; App. pt. i. p. 181. - -[29] Symons, Evidence, No. 199; App. pt. i. p. 279, 1. 3. - -[30] Ibid. No. 21; p. 282, 1. 246. - -[31] Wood, Evidence, No. 60; App. pt. ii. p. h 27, 1. 46. - -[32] Kennedy, Evidence, No. 30; App. pt. ii. p. 218, 1. 6. - -[33] Austin, Evidence, No. 7; App. pt. ii. p. 812. 1. 160. - -[34] Ibid. No. 17; p. 815, 1. 53. - -[35] Leifchild, Evidence, No. 97; App. pt. i. p. 587, 1. 32. - -[36] Leichfield, Evidence, No. 504; p. 672, 1. 22. - -[37] Ibid. No. 498; p. 665, 1. 50. - -[38] Ibid. No. 496; p. 662, 1. 62. - -[39] Mitchell, Evidence, No. 46; App. pt. i. p. 81, 1. 47. - -[40] Mitchell, Evidence, No. 77; p. 113, 1. 6. - -[41] Ibid. No. 81; p. 114, 1. 22. - -[42] Ibid. No. 82; p. 114, 1. 61. - -[43] Fellows, Report, s. 49; App. pt. ii. p. 256. - -[44] Fellows, Evidence, No. 105; p. 292, 1. 48. - -[45] Fellows, Evidence, No. 10; p. 262, 1. 8. - -[46] Symons, Report, s. 209; App. pt. i. p. 193. - -[47] Wood, Report, s. 42; App. pt. ii. p. 167. - -[48] Leifchild, Evidence, No. 499; App. pt. i. p. 668, 1. 44. - -[49] Ibid. No. 498; p. 665, 1. 52. - -[50] Franks, Report, s. 68; App. pt. i. p. 396. - -[51] Tancred, Evidence, No. 34; App. pt. i. p. 371, 1. 58. - -[52] H. H. Jones, Report, s. 83; App. pt. ii. p. 375. - -[53] H. H. Jones, Evidence, No. 96; App. pt. ii. p. 407, 1. 51. - -[54] Waring, Evidence, No. 38; App. pt. ii. p. 25, 1. 57. - -[55] Stewart, Evidence, No. 7; App. pt. ii. p. 50, 1. 48. - -[56] Fellows, Evidence, No. 84; App. pt. ii. p. 287, 1. 38. - -[57] Symons, Report, s. 110, App. pt. i. p. 181. - -[58] Symons, Evidence, No. 221; App. pt. i. p. 282, 1. 45. - -[59] Ibid. No. 268; p. 292, 1. 51. - -[60] Kennedy, Report, s. 299; App. pt. ii. p. 188. - -[61] Mitchell, Report, s. 212; App. pt. i. p. 143. - -[62] Mitchell, Evidence, No. 96; App. pt. i. p. 153, 1. 57. - -[63] Ibid. No. 97; p. 153, 1. 64. - -[64] Franks, Report, s. 121; App. pt. i. p. 408. - -[65] Franks, Evidence, No. 273; App. pt. i. p. 487, 1. 25. - -[66] Franks, Evidence, No. 73; p. 450, 1. 31. - -[67] Ibid. No. 83; p. 452, 1. 29. - -[68] H. H. Jones, Report, s. 84; App. pt. ii. p. 375. - -[69] H. H. Jones, Evidence, No. 96; App. pt. ii. p. 407, 1. 53. - -[70] Ibid. No. 2; p. 378, 1. 35. - -[71] Ibid. No. 3; p. 379, 1. 34. - -[72] Scriven, Report, s. 83; App. pt. ii. p. 72. - -[73] Symons, Evidence, s. 96; App. pt. i. p. 187. - -[74] Wood, Evidence, No. 76; App. pt. ii. p. _h_ 32, 1. 18. - -[75] Symons, Evidence, No. 197; App. pt. i. p. 277, 1. 68. - -[76] Austin, Evidence, No. 9; App. pt. ii. p. 813, 1. 40. - -[77] Scriven, Report, s. 82; App. pt. ii. p. 72. - -[78] Scriven, Evidence, No. 2; App. pt. ii. p. 101, 1. 33. - -[79] Ibid. No. 79, p. 124, 1. 28. See also Nos. 12, 13, 18, 25. - -[80] Leifchild, Evidence, No. 86; App. pt. i. p. 583, 1. 27. - -[81] Leifchild, Evidence, No. 201; p. 610, 1. 52. - -[82] Ibid. No. 267, p. 623, 1. 11. - -[83] Franks, Evidence, No. 31; App. pt. ii. p. 510, 1. 49. - -[84] Leifchild, Evidence, No. 385; App. pt. i. p. 645, 1. 35. - -[85] Ibid. No. 375, p. 644, 1. 48. - -[86] Tancred, Evidence, No. 9; App. pt. i. p. 361, 1. 45. - -[87] Leifchild, Evidence, No. 376; App. pt. i. p. 644, 1. 54. - -[88] Enclosed for the inspection of the Central Board. It is entitled, -"A Memoir of Robert Blincoe, &c., Manchester." J. Doherty. 1852. - -[89] _England and America_, Harpers & Brothers, publishers, 1834. - -[90] Every-day Life in London. - -[91] This is done at the Model Prison, Pentonville. - -[92] London Daily News. - -[93] In order that these men shall be thus protected, it is necessary -for the master TO NAME THEM, before they are impressed; this is to -be done by going before the mayor or other chief magistrate of the -place, who is to give the master a certificate, in which is contained -the names of the particular men whom he thus nominates; and this -certificate will be their protection. - -[94] Auctioned. - -[95] Household Words. - -[96] Charge on the Marlborough Commission, p. 5. Cited in Lewis's Irish -Disturbances, p. 227. - -[97] See the evidence of Mr. Blacker, House of Commons' Report on the -State of Ireland, 1824, p. 75; that of Mr. Griffiths, _ibid._ 232; and -that of Mr. Blacker, House of Lords' Report, 1824, p. 14. - -[98] House of Commons' Committee on Combinations, 1838. Questions -5872-5876. - -[99] Edinburgh Review. - -[100] Servants and Servitude, in Howitt's Journal. - -[101] Sanitary Inquiry Report, 1843, p.64. - -[102] Kay. - -[103] The Slave Trade, Domestic and Foreign. - -[104] Bigelow's Jamaica in 1850. - -[105] Backhouse's Visit to the Mauritius. - -[106] Brigg's Historical Fragments. - -[107] Carey. - -[108] Carey. - -[109] Campbell's Modern India. - -[110] "Some of Mr. Smith's servants entered into a combination to -defraud a suitor in his court of a large sum of money, which he was to -pay to Mrs. Smith as she walked in the garden. A dancing-girl from the -town of Jubbulpore was made to represent Mrs. Smith, and a suit of Mrs. -Smith's clothes were borrowed for her from the washer-woman. The butler -took the suitor into the garden and introduced him to the supposed Mrs. -Smith, who received him very graciously, and condescended to accept his -offer of five thousand rupees in gold mohurs. The plot was afterward -discovered, and the old butler, washer-woman and all, were sentenced to -labour in a rope on the roads." - -[111] Lords' Evidence, 1687. - -[112] Campbell's Modern India. - -[113] Rikards. - -[114] Collector's Report. - -[115] Sketch of Assam. - -[116] The Aristocracy of England. - - - - -_MILLER, ORTON & MULLIGAN PUBLISH_ - - - *=FERN LEAVES FROM FANNY'S PORTFOLIO,—First Series=, - 8 illustrations by Coffin, engraved by N. Orr, muslin, 400 pp., - 12mo., 1 25 - - THE SAME—muslin, gilt top and side, 1 25 - Do do gilt edges and sides, 1 75 - Do do gilt edges and full gilt sides, 2 00 - - - *=THE SAME—Second Series=, - Uniform in Styles and Prices with the First Series—(to be ready - in March.) - - - *=LITTLE FERNS FOR FANNY'S LITTLE FRIENDS=, - By the Author of Fern Leaves, 6 illustrations, muslin, 298 pp., - 16mo. 75 - - THE SAME—muslin, gilt edges and sides, 1 00 - Do do gilt edges and full gilt sides, 1 25 - - - =NOBLE DEEDS OF AMERICAN WOMEN=, - Edited by J. CLEMENT and Mrs. L. H. SIGOURNEY, 7 illustrations - on steel and wood, muslin, 480 pp. 12mo. 1 50 - - THE SAME—muslin, gilt edges and full gilt sides, 2 25 - - - =FRESH LEAVES FROM WESTERN WOODS=, - By METTA V. FULLER, muslin, 315 pp. 12mo. 1 00 - - THE SAME—muslin, gilt edges and full gilt sides, 1 75 - - - =SUMMERFIELD, OR LIFE ON THE FARM=, - By Rev. 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Samuel Nelson, Presiding Justice; by SAMUEL - BLATCHFORD, Esq., Reporter to the Court, law sheep, 703 pp., - 8vo., vol. 1, 5 50 - - THE SAME—vol. 2, (in press—ready early in the summer of 1854,) 5 50 - - - =EXECUTOR'S, ADMINISTRATOR'S AND GUARDIAN'S GUIDE=, - Their Powers, Duties, Rights and Obligations, with an Appendix - of Practical Forms; also, the Duties of Surrogates, third - edition, revised and enlarged, and adapted to the New - Constitution; by DAVID WRIGHT, Counsellor at Law, law sheep, - 408 pp., 12mo. 1 50 - - - =THE NEW CONSTABLE'S GUIDE=, - And Marshal's Assistant, their Powers and Duties, Privileges - and Liabilities, in Civil and Criminal Proceedings in the State - of New-York, with Practical Forms, a new and revised edition, - law sheep, 260 pp., 12mo. 1 00 - - - =NEW ROAD ACT AND HIGHWAY LAWS=, - Being a practical Compend of the Powers and Duties of - Commissioners and Overseers of Highways in the State of - New-York, with References to the Statutes and Legal Decisions, - and all the necessary Forms, by a Counsellor at Law, large - octavo pamphlet, 40 pp. 25 - - - *=YOUNG'S SCIENCE OF GOVERNMENT=, - New and improved edition, brought down to 1854, and adapted to - the use of Schools, by A. 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D., 360 illustrations, muslin, 648 pp., 8vo. 2 00 - - THE SAME—embossed morocco, marble edges, 2 50 - - - *=TWELVE YEARS A SLAVE=, - - The Narrative of SOLOMON NORTHUP, a citizen of New-York - kidnapped in Washington City in 1841, and rescued in 1853, from - a Cotton Plantation near the Red River, in Louisiana, - 7 illustrations, muslin, 336 pp., 12mo. 1 00 - - - *=WILD SCENES OF A HUNTER'S LIFE=, - - Including Cummings' Adventures among the Lions, Elephants and - other wild Animals of Africa, by JOHN FROST, LL. D., with 8 - colored and 300 letter-press illustrations, muslin, 467 pp., - 12mo. 1 50 - - - =LIFE ON THE PLAINS=, - - And among the Diggings, being Scenes and Adventures of an - Overland Journey to California, with particular Incidents of - the Route, Sufferings of Emigrants, Indian Tribes, &c., by - A. DELANO, illustrated, 384 pp., 12mo. 1 25 - - - =THE AUSTRALIAN CAPTIVE=, - - Or, Fifteen Years' Adventures of William Jackman, including his - Residence among the Cannibals of Nuyts' Land, with portraits - and other illustrations, edited by Rev. I. CHAMBERLAIN, muslin, - 392 pp., 12mo. 1 25 - - - =FRONTIER LIFE=, - - Or Scenes and Adventures in the South-west, by F. HARDMAN, - illustrated, muslin, 376 pp., 12mo. 1.25 - - - =THRILLING ADVENTURES=, - - By Land and Sea, being remarkable Facts from Authentic Sources, - edited by J. O. BRAYMAN, illustrated, muslin, 504 pp., 12mo. 1 25 - - - =DARING DEEDS OF AMERICAN HEROES=, - - With Biographical Sketches, by J. O. BRAYMAN, illustrated, 12mo. - 450 pp. 1 25 - - - =LIFE AT THE SOUTH=, - - Being Narratives, Scenes, and Incidents in Slave Life, by W. - L. G. SMITH, illustrated, muslin, 519 pp., 12mo. 1 25 - - - =BORDER WARS OF THE WEST=, - - Comprising the Frontier Wars of Pennsylvania, Virginia, - Kentucky, Ohio, Indiana, Illinois, Tennessee and Wisconsin, and - embracing the Individual Adventures among the Indians, and - Exploits of Boone, Kenton, Clark, Logan, and other Border - Heroes of the West, by PROFESSOR FROST, 300 illustrations, - muslin, 608 pp., muslin, 8vo. 2 50 - - - =WESTERN SCENES=, - - And Reminiscences, together with thrilling Legends and - Traditions of the Red Man of the Forest, illustrated, muslin, - 8vo. 2 00 - - - =GIFT BOOK FOR YOUNG MEN=, - - Or Familiar Letters on Self-knowledge, Self-education, Female - Society, Marriage, &c., by Dr. WM. A. ALCOTT, frontispiece, - muslin, 312 pp., 12mo. 84 - - THE SAME—muslin, gilt edges and full gilt sides, 1 50 - - - =GIFT BOOK FOR YOUNG LADIES=, - - Or Woman's Mission; being Familiar Letters to a Young Lady on - her Amusements, Employments, Studies, Acquaintances, male and - female, Friendships, &c., by Dr. WM. A. ALCOTT, frontispiece - on steel, muslin, 307 pp., 12mo. 84 - - THE SAME—muslin, gilt edges and full gilt sides, 1 50 - - - =YOUNG MAN'S BOOK=, - - Or, Self-Education, by Rev. WM. HOSMER, frontispiece on - steel, muslin, 291 pp., 12mo. 84 - - THE SAME—muslin, gilt edges and full gilt sides, 1 50 - - - =YOUNG LADY'S BOOK=, - - Or, Principles of Female Education, by Rev. WM. HOSMER, - frontispiece on steel, muslin, 301 pp., 12mo. 84 - - THE SAME—muslin, gilt edges and full gilt sides, 1 50 - - - =GOLDEN STEPS FOR THE YOUNG=, - - To Usefulness, Respectability and Happiness, by JOHN MATHER - AUSTIN, author of "Voice to Youth," frontispiece on steel, - muslin, 243 pp., 12mo. 84 - - THE SAME—muslin, gilt edges and full gilt sides, 1 50 - - - =VOICE TO THE YOUNG=, - - Or, Lectures for the Times, by W. W. PATTON, muslin, 213 pp., - 12mo. 75 - - - =THE YOUTH'S BOOK OF GEMS=, - - By F. C. WOODWORTH, with 100 illustrations, muslin, 386 pp., - 8vo. 1 25 - - - =THE STRING OF PEARLS=, - - For Boys and Girls, by T. S. ARTHUR and F. C. WOODWORTH, with - many illustrations, muslin, 288 pp., 16mo. 84 - - - =STORIES ABOUT BIRDS=, - - By F. C. WOODWORTH, with illustrative engravings, muslin, - 336 pp., 16mo. 84 - - - =STORIES ABOUT ANIMALS=, - - By F. C. WOODWORTH, with illustrative engravings, muslin, - 336 pp., 16mo. 84 - - - =WONDERS OF THE INSECT WORLD=, - - By F. C. WOODWORTH, with illustrative engravings, muslin, - 336 pp., 16mo. 84 - - - - - ┌───────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────┐ - │ Transcriber's Note: │ - │ │ - │ Minor typographical errors have been corrected without note. │ - │ │ - │ Punctuation and spelling were made consistent when a predominant │ - │ form was found in this book; otherwise they were not changed. │ - │ │ - │ Ambiguous hyphens at the ends of lines were retained. │ - │ │ - │ Footnotes were moved to the end of the book and numbered in one │ - │ continuous sequence. │ - │ │ - │ Italicized words are surrounded by underline characters, _like │ - │ this_. Words in bold characters are surrounded by equal signs, │ - │ =like this=. │ - │ │ - │ Other notes: │ - │ p. 26: be at changed to bear. (...that parish must bear the │ - │ cost....) │ - │ p. 29: Frith → Firth. (Firth of Forth.) │ - │ p. 84: Chesterle → Chester le. (Chester le Street.) │ - │ p. 336: an → on. (I could sit my eyes on.) │ - └───────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────┘ - - - - - -End of Project Gutenberg's The White Slaves of England, by John C. 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Cobden - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most -other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of -the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - -Title: The White Slaves of England - -Author: John C. Cobden - -Release Date: June 28, 2016 [EBook #52423] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE WHITE SLAVES OF ENGLAND *** - - - - -Produced by Brian Coe, Christian Boissonnas and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This -file was produced from images generously made available -by The Internet Archive/Canadian Libraries) - - - - - - -</pre> - - -<div class="figcenter"><a name="i_frontispiece.jpg" id="i_frontispiece.jpg"></a> - <img src="images/i_frontispiece.jpg" - alt="The White Slaves of England" /> -</div> - - -<p class="ac x-smaller"> -FIFTH THOUSAND.</p> - -<h1> -THE WHITE SLAVES<br /> -<br /> -<span class="xx-smaller">OF</span><br /> -<br /> -ENGLAND.</h1> - -<p class="ac p4"> -COMPILED FROM OFFICIAL DOCUMENTS.<br /> -<br /> -<span class="xx-smaller">WITH TWELVE SPIRITED ILLUSTRATIONS.</span></p> - -<p class="ac">BY JOHN C. COBDEN.</p> - -<p class="ac p6"><span class="smaller">AUBURN AND BUFFALO:</span><br /> -MILLER ORTON & MULLIGAN.<br /> -<span class="smaller">1854.</span><br /> -</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - - -<p class="ac"> -Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year one thousand eight hundred and -fifty-three, by<br /> - -<span class="sc">Derby and Miller</span>,<br /> -In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the Northern District of New-York.<br /> -</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[Pg 5]</a></span></p> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2><a name="PREFACE" id="PREFACE"></a>PREFACE.</h2> -</div> - - -<p class="i1"><span class="sc">The</span> following pages exhibit a system of wrong and outrage -equally abhorrent to justice, civilization and humanity. The -frightful abuses which are here set forth, are, from their enormity, -difficult of belief; yet they are supported by testimony -the most impartial, clear and irrefutable. These abuses are -time-honored, and have the sanction of a nation which prides itself -upon the <i>freedom of its Constitution</i>; and which holds up -its government to the nations of the earth as a model of <i>regulated -liberty</i>. Vain, audacious, <i>false</i> assumption! Let the refutation -be found in the details which this volume furnishes, of -the want, misery and starvation—the slavish toil—the menial -degradation of nineteen-twentieths of her people. Let her -<i>miners</i>, her <i>operatives</i>, <i>the tenants of her workhouses</i>, her -<i>naval service</i>, and the millions upon millions in the <i>Emerald -Isle</i> and in farther India attest its fallacy.</p> - -<p class="i1">These are the legitimate results of the laws and institutions -of Great Britain; and they reach and affect, in a greater or less -degree, all her dependencies. Her <i>church and state</i>, and her -<i>laws of entail and primogeniture</i>, are the principal sources of -the evils under which her people groan; and until these are -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[Pg 6]</a></span> -changed there is no just ground of hope for an improvement -in their condition. The tendency of things is, indeed, to make -matters still worse. The poor are every year becoming poorer, -and more dependent upon those who feast upon their sufferings; -while the wealth and power of the realm are annually -concentrating in fewer hands, and becoming more and more instruments -of oppression. The picture is already sufficiently -revolting. "Nine hundred and ninety-nine children of the -same common Father, suffer from destitution, that the thousandth -may revel in superfluities. A thousand cottages shrink -into meanness and want, to swell the dimensions of a single palace. -The tables of a thousand families of the industrious poor waste -away into drought and barrenness, that one board may be laden -with surfeits."</p> - -<p class="i1">From these monstrous evils there seems to be little chance -of escape, except by flight; and happy is it for the victims of -oppression, that an asylum is open to them, in which they can -fully enjoy the rights and privileges, from which, for ages, they -have been debarred. Let them come. The feudal chains -which so long have bound them can here be shaken off. Here -they can freely indulge the pure impulses of the mind and the -soul, untrammeled by political or religious tyranny. Here -they can enjoy the beneficent influences of humane institutions -and laws, and find a vast and ample field in which to develop -and properly employ all their faculties.</p> - -<p class="i1">The United States appear before the eyes of the down-trodden -whites of Europe as a land of promise. Thousands of ignorant, -degraded wretches, who have fled from their homes to -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[Pg 7]</a></span> -escape exhausting systems of slavery, annually land upon our -shores, and in their hearts thank God that he has created such -a refuge. This is the answer—the overwhelming answer—to -the decriers of our country and its institutions. These emigrants -are more keenly alive to the superiority of our institutions -than most persons who have been bred under them, and -to their care we might confidently intrust our defence.</p> - -<p class="i1">We design to prove in this work that the oligarchy which -owns Great Britain at the present day is the best friend of human -slavery, and that its system is most barbarous and destructive. -Those feudal institutions which reduced to slavery the -strong-minded race of whites, are perpetuated in Great Britain, -to the detriment of freedom wherever the British sway extends. -Institutions which nearly every other civilized country has abolished, -and which are at least a century behind the age, still curse -the British islands and their dependencies. This system of -slavery, with all its destructive effects, will be found fully illustrated -in this volume.</p> - -<p class="i1">Our plan has been to quote English authorities wherever possible. -Out of their own mouths shall they be condemned. -We have been much indebted to the publications of distinguished -democrats of England, who have keenly felt the evils -under which their country groans, and striven, with a hearty -will, to remove them. They have the sympathies of civilized -mankind with their cause. May their efforts soon be crowned -with success, for the British masses and oppressed nations far -away in the East will shout loud and long when the aristocracy -is brought to the dust!</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[Pg 9]</a></span></p> - - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[Pg 10]</a></span></p> - -<p>" • • • • • <span class="sc">AS WE HAVE BEEN GREAT IN CRIME, LET US BE -EARLY IN REPENTANCE. THERE WILL BE A DAY OF RETRIBUTION, WHEREIN -WE SHALL HAVE TO GIVE ACCOUNT OF ALL THE TALENTS, FACULTIES, -AND OPPORTUNITIES WHICH HAVE BEEN INTRUSTED TO US. LET IT NOT -THEN APPEAR THAT OUR SUPERIOR POWER HAS BEEN EMPLOYED TO OPPRESS -OUR FELLOW CREATURES, AND OUR SUPERIOR LIGHT TO DARKEN THE CREATION -OF OUR GOD.</span>"—<i>Wilberforce.</i></p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[Pg 11]</a></span></p> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2><a name="CONTENTS" id="CONTENTS"></a>CONTENTS.</h2> -</div> - -<table id="TOC" summary="CONTENTS"> - <tr> - <td class="chap-no"><a href="#CHAPTER_I" style="text-decoration: none;"> - CHAPTER I.</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c1">General Slavery proceeding from the existence of the British Aristocracy</td> - <td class="c2"><span style="width:10%;"><i>Page </i></span>13</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="chap-no"><a href="#CHAPTER_II" style="text-decoration: none;"> - CHAPTER II.</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c1">Slavery in the British Mines</td> - <td class="c2">28</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="chap-no"><a href="#CHAPTER_III" style="text-decoration: none;"> - CHAPTER III.</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c1">Slavery in the British Factories</td> - <td class="c2">104</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="chap-no"><a href="#CHAPTER_IV" style="text-decoration: none;"> - CHAPTER IV.</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c1">Slavery in the British Workshops</td> - <td class="c2">168</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="chap-no"><a href="#CHAPTER_V" style="text-decoration: none;"> - CHAPTER V.</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c1">The Workhouse System of Britain</td> - <td class="c2">206</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="chap-no"><a href="#CHAPTER_VI" style="text-decoration: none;"> - CHAPTER VI.</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c1">Impressment, or Kidnapping White Men for Slaves in the Naval Service</td> - <td class="c2">257</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="chap-no"><a href="#CHAPTER_VII" style="text-decoration: none;"> - CHAPTER VII.</a><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[Pg 12]</a></span></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c1">Irish Slavery</td> - <td class="c2">284</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="chap-no"><a href="#CHAPTER_VIII" style="text-decoration: none;"> - CHAPTER VIII.</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c1">The Menial Slaves of Great Britain</td> - <td class="c2">370</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="chap-no"><a href="#CHAPTER_IX" style="text-decoration: none;"> - CHAPTER IX.</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c1">Mental and Moral Condition of the White Slaves in Great Britain</td> - <td class="c2">379</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="chap-no"><a href="#CHAPTER_X" style="text-decoration: none;"> - CHAPTER X.</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c1">Coolie Slavery in the British Colonies</td> - <td class="c2">433</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="chap-no"><a href="#CHAPTER_XI" style="text-decoration: none;"> - CHAPTER XI.</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c1">Slavery in British India</td> - <td class="c2">441</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="chap-no"><a href="#CHAPTER_XII" style="text-decoration: none;"> - CHAPTER XII.</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c1">The Crime and the Duty of the English Government</td> - <td class="c2">489</td> - </tr> -</table> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[Pg 13]</a></span></p> - - -<p class="ac">THE<br /><br /> -<span class="larger">WHITE SLAVES OF ENGLAND.</span></p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<div class="chapter"> -<h2><a name="CHAPTER_I" id="CHAPTER_I"></a>CHAPTER I.</h2> -</div> - -<p class="ac">GENERAL SLAVERY PROCEEDING FROM THE EXISTENCE OF -THE BRITISH ARISTOCRACY.</p> - - -<p class="i1"><span class="sc">What</span> is slavery? A system under which the time -and toil of one person are compulsorily the property of -another. The power of life and death, and the privilege -of using the lash in the master, are not essential, but -casual attendants of slavery, which comprehends all involuntary -servitude without adequate recompense or the -means of escape. He who can obtain no property in the -soil, and is not represented in legislation, is a slave; -for he is completely at the mercy of the lord of the soil -and the holder of the reins of government. Sometimes -slavery is founded upon the inferiority of one race to -another; and then it appears in its most agreeable -garb, for the system may be necessary to tame and -civilize a race of savages. But the subjection of the -majority of a nation to an involuntary, hopeless, exhausting, -and demoralizing servitude, for the benefit of -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[Pg 14]</a></span> -an idle and luxurious few of the same nation, is slavery -in its most appalling form. Such a system of slavery, -we assert, exists in Great Britain.</p> - -<p class="i1">In the United Kingdom, the land is divided into -immense estates, constantly retained in a few hands; -and the tendency of the existing laws of entail and -primogeniture is to reduce even the number of these -proprietors. According to McCulloch, there are -77,007,048 acres of land in the United Kingdom, including -the small islands adjacent. Of this quantity, -28,227,435 acres are uncultivated; while, according to -Mr. Porter, another English writer, about 11,300,000 -acres, now lying waste, are fit for cultivation. The -number of proprietors of all this land is about 50,000. -Perhaps, this is a rather high estimate for the present -period. Now the people of the United Kingdom number -at least 28,000,000. What a tremendous majority, -then, own not a foot of soil! But this is not the worst. -Such is the state of the laws, that the majority never -can acquire an interest in the land. Said the London -<i>Times</i>, in 1844, "<i>Once a peasant in England, and the -man must remain a peasant for ever</i>;" and, says Mr. -Kay, of Trinity College, Cambridge—</p> - -<div class="bq"> - -<p class="i1">"Unless the English peasant will consent to tear himself from -his relations, friends, and early associations, and either transplant -himself into a town or into a distant colony, he has no chance of -improving his condition in the world."</p></div> - -<p class="i1">Admit this—admit that the peasant must remain -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[Pg 15]</a></span> -through life at the mercy of his lord, and of legislation -in which his interests are not represented—and tell us -if he is a freeman?</p> - -<p class="i1">To begin with England, to show the progress and -effects of the land monopoly:—The Rev. Henry Worsley -states that in the year 1770, there were in England -250,000 freehold estates, in the hands of 250,000 different -families; and that, in 1815, the whole of the lands of -England were concentrated in the hands of only 32,000 -proprietors! So that, as the population increases, the -number of proprietors diminishes. A distinguished -lawyer, who was engaged in the management of estates -in Westmoreland and Cumberland counties in 1849, -says—</p> - -<div class="bq"> - -<p class="i1">"The greater proprietors in this part of the country are buying -up all the land, and including it in their settlements. Whenever -one of the small estates is put up for sale, the great proprietors -outbid the peasants and purchase it at all costs. The consequence -is, that for some time past, the number of the small estates has been -rapidly diminishing in all parts of the country. In a short time -none of them will remain, but all be merged in the great estates. -* * * The consequence is, that the peasant's position, instead -of being what it once was—one of hope—is gradually becoming -one of despair. Unless a peasant emigrates, there is now no -chance for him. It is impossible for him to rise above the peasant -class."</p></div> - -<p class="i1">The direct results of this system are obvious. Unable -to buy land, the tillers of the soil live merely by the -sufferance of the proprietors. If one of the great landholders -takes the notion that grazing will be more -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[Pg 16]</a></span> -profitable than farming, he may sweep away the homes -of his labourers, turning the poor wretches upon the -country as wandering paupers, or driving them into the -cities to overstock the workshops and reduce the wages -of the poor workman. And what is the condition of -the peasants who are allowed to remain and labour -upon the vast estates? Let Englishmen speak for -Englishmen.</p> - -<p class="i1">Devon, Somerset, Dorset, and Wiltshire are generally -regarded as presenting the agricultural labourer in his -most deplorable circumstances, while Lincolnshire exhibits -the other extreme. We have good authority for -the condition of the peasantry in all these counties. -Mr. John Fox, medical officer of the Cerne Union, in -Dorsetshire, says—</p> - -<div class="bq"> - -<p class="i1">"Most of the cottages are of the worst description; some mere -mud-hovels, and situated in low and damp places, with cesspools -or accumulations of filth close to the doors. The mud floors of -many are much below the level of the road, and, in wet seasons, -are little better than so much clay. In many of the cottages, the -beds stood on the ground floor, which was damp three parts of -the year; scarcely one had a fireplace in the bedroom; and one -had a single small pane of glass stuck in the mud wall as its only -window. Persons living in such cottages are generally very poor, -very dirty, and usually in rags, living almost wholly on bread -and potatoes, scarcely ever tasting any animal food, and, consequently, -highly susceptible of disease, and very unable to contend -with it."</p></div> - -<p class="i1">Very often, according to other equally good authority, -there is not more than one room for the whole family, -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[Pg 17]</a></span> -and the demoralization of that family is the natural -consequence. The <i>Morning Chronicle</i> of November, -1849, said of the cottages at Southleigh, in Devon—</p> - -<div class="bq"> - -<p class="i1">"One house, which our correspondent visited, was almost a -ruin. It had continued in that state for ten years. The floor -was of mud, dipping near the fireplace into a deep hollow, which -was constantly filled with water. There were five in the family—a -young man of twenty-one, a girl of eighteen, and another girl -of about thirteen, with the father and mother, all sleeping together -up-stairs. And what a sleeping-room! 'In places it -seemed falling in. To ventilation it was an utter stranger. The -crazy floor shook and creaked under me as I paced it.' Yet the -rent was 1<i>s.</i> a week—the same sum for which apartments that -may be called luxurious in comparison may be had in the model -lodging-houses. And here sat a girl weaving that beautiful -Honiton lace which our peeresses wear on court-days. Cottage -after cottage at Southleigh presented the same characteristics. -Clay floors, low ceilings letting in the rain, no ventilation; two -rooms, one above and one below; gutters running through the -lower room to let off the water; unglazed window-frames, now -boarded up, and now uncovered to the elements, the boarding -going for firewood; the inmates disabled by rheumatism, ague, -and typhus; broad, stagnant, open ditches close to the doors; -heaps of abominations piled round the dwellings; such are the -main features of Southleigh; and it is in these worse than pig-styes -that one of the most beautiful fabrics that luxury demands -or art supplies is fashioned. The parish houses are still worse. -'One of these, on the borders of Devonshire and Cornwall, and -not far from Launceston, consisted of two houses, containing -between them four rooms. In each room lived a family night -and day, the space being about twelve feet square. In one were -a man and his wife and eight children; the father, mother, and -two children lay in one bed, the remaining six were huddled -'head and foot' (three at the top and three at the foot) in the -other bed. The eldest girl was between fifteen and sixteen, the -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[Pg 18]</a></span> -eldest boy between fourteen and fifteen.' Is it not horrible to -think of men and women being brought up in this foul and brutish -manner in civilized and Christian England! The lowest of -savages are not worse cared for than these children of a luxurious -and refined country."</p></div> - -<p class="i1">Yet other authorities describe cases much worse than -this which so stirs the heart of the editor of the <i>Morning -Chronicle</i>. The frightful immorality consequent -upon such a mode of living will be illustrated fully in -another portion of this work.</p> - -<p class="i1">In Lincolnshire, the cottages of the peasantry are in a -better condition than in any other part of England; but -in consequence of the lowness of wages and the comparative -enormity of rents, the tillers of the soil are in -not much better circumstances than their rural brethren -in other counties. Upon an average, a hard-working -peasant can earn five shillings a week; two shillings of -which go for rent. If he can barely live when employed, -what is to become of him when thrown out of employment? -Thus the English peasant is driven to the most -constant and yet hopeless labour, with whips more -terrible than those used by the master of the negro slave.</p> - -<p class="i1">In Wales, the condition of the peasant, thanks to the -general system of lord and serf, is neither milder nor -more hopeful than in England. Mr. Symonds, a commissioner -who was sent by government to examine the -state of education in some of the Welsh counties, says -of the peasantry of Brecknockshire, Cardiganshire, and -Radnorshire<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[Pg 19]</a></span>—</p> - -<div class="bq"> - -<p class="i1">"The people of my district are almost universally poor. In -some parts of it, wages are probably lower than in any part of -Great Britain. The evidence of the witnesses, fully confirmed by -other statements, exhibits much poverty, but little amended in -other parts of the counties on which I report. <i>The farmers themselves -are very much impoverished, and live no better than English -cottagers in prosperous agricultural counties.</i></p> - -<p class="i1">"The cottages in which the people dwell are miserable in the -extreme in nearly every part of the country in Cardiganshire, -and every part of Brecknockshire and Radnorshire, except the -east. I have myself visited many of the dwellings of the poor, -and my assistants have done so likewise. <i>I believe the Welsh -cottages to be very little, if at all, superior to the Irish huts in the -country districts.</i></p> - -<p class="i1">"Brick chimneys are very unusual in these cottages; those -which exist are usually in the shape of large cones, the top being -of basket-work. <i>In very few cottages is there more than one room</i>, -which serves the purposes of living and sleeping. A large dresser -and shelves usually form the partition between the two; and -where there are separate beds for the family, a curtain or low -board is (if it exists) the only division with no regular partition. -And this state of things very generally prevails, even where there -is some little attention paid to cleanliness; but the cottages and -beds are frequently filthy. The people are always very dirty. In -all the counties, the cottages are generally destitute of necessary -outbuildings, including even those belonging to the farmers; and -both in Cardiganshire and Radnorshire, except near the border -of England, the pigs and poultry have free run of the joint dwelling -and sleeping rooms."</p></div> - -<p class="i1">In Scotland, the estates of the nobility are even -larger than in England. Small farms are difficult to -find. McCulloch states that there are not more than -8000 proprietors of land in the whole of Scotland; and, -as in England, this number is decreasing. In some -districts, the cottages of the peasantry are as wretched -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[Pg 20]</a></span> -as any in England or Wales. For some years past, the -great landholders, such as the Duke of Buccleuch and -the Duchess of Sutherland, have been illustrating the -glorious beneficence of British institutions by removing -the poor peasantry from the homes of their fathers, for -the purpose of turning the vacated districts into deer-parks, -sheep-walks, and large farms. Many a Highland -family has vented a curse upon the head of the remorseless -Duchess of Sutherland. Most slaveholders -in other countries feed, shelter, and protect their slaves, -in compensation for work; but the Duchess and her -barbarous class take work, shelter, food, and protection -from their serfs all at one fell swoop, turning them upon -the world to beg or starve. Scotland has reason—strong -reason—to bewail the existence of the British -aristocracy.</p> - -<p class="i1">Next let us invoke the testimony of Ireland—the -beautiful and the wretched—Ireland, whose people have -been the object of pity to the nations for centuries—whose -miseries have been the burden of song and the -theme of eloquence till they have penetrated all hearts -save those of the oppressors—whose very life-blood has -been trampled out by the aristocracy. Let us hear her -testimony in regard to the British slave system.</p> - -<p class="i1">Ireland is splendidly situated, in a commercial point -of view, commanding the direct route between Northern -Europe and America, with some of the finest harbours -in the world. Its soil is rich and fruitful. Its rivers -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[Pg 21]</a></span> -are large, numerous, and well adapted for internal -commerce. The people are active, physically and -intellectually, and, everywhere beyond Ireland, are -distinguished for their energy, perseverance, and -success. Yet, in consequence of its organized oppression, -called government, Ireland is the home of miseries -which have scarcely a parallel upon the face of the -earth. The great landlords spend most of their time -in England or upon the continent, and leave their lands -to the management of agents, who have sub-agents for -parts of the estates, and these latter often have still -inferior agents. Many of the great landlords care -nothing for their estates beyond the receipt of the rents, -and leave their agents to enrich themselves at the -expense of the tenantry. Everywhere in Ireland, a -traveller, as he passes along the roads, will see on the -roadsides and in the fields, places which look like -mounds of earth and sods, with a higher heap of sods -upon the top, out of which smoke is curling upward; -and with two holes in the sides of the heap next the -road, one of which is used as the door, and the other -as the window of the hovel. These are the homes of -the peasantry! Entering a hovel, you will find it to -contain but one room, formed by the four mud walls; -and in these places, upon the mud floor, the families of -the peasant live. Men, women, boys, and girls live -and sleep together, and herd with the wallowing pig. -Gaunt, ragged figures crawl out of these hovels and -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[Pg 22]</a></span> -plant the ground around them with potatoes, which -constitute the only food of the inmates throughout the -year, or swarm the roads and thoroughfares as wretched -beggars. The deplorable condition of these peasants -was graphically described by no less a person than Sir -Robert Peel, in his great speech on Ireland, in 1849; -and the evidence quoted by him was unimpeachable. -But not only are the majority of the Irish condemned -to exist in such hovels as we have sketched above—their -tenure of these disgusting cabins is insecure. If they -do not pay the rent for them at the proper time, they -are liable to be turned adrift even in the middle of the -night. No notice is necessary. The tenants are subject -to the tender mercies of a bailiff, without any -remedy or appeal, except to the court of Heaven. Kay -states that in 1849, more than 50,000 families were -evicted and turned as beggars upon the country. An -Englishman who travelled through Ireland in the fall -of 1849, says—</p> - -<div class="bq"> - -<p class="i1">"In passing through some half dozen counties, Cork, (especially -in the western portions of it,) Limerick, Clare, Galway, and -Mayo, you see thousands of ruined cottages and dwellings of the -labourers, the peasants, and the small holders of Ireland. You -see from the roadside twenty houses at once with not a roof upon -them. I came to a village not far from Castlebar, where the -system of eviction had been carried out only a few days before. -Five women came about us as the car stopped, and on making -inquiry, they told us their sorrowful story. They were not badly -clad; they were cleanly in appearance; they were intelligent; -they used no violent language, but in the most moderate terms -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[Pg 23]</a></span> -told us that on the Monday week previously those five houses had -been levelled. They told us how many children there were in -their families: I recollect one had eight, another had six; that -the husbands of three of them were in this country for the harvest; -that they had written to their husbands to tell them of the -desolation of their homes. And, I asked them, 'What did the -husbands say in reply?' They said 'they had not been able to -eat any breakfast!' It is but a simple observation, but it marks -the sickness and the sorrow which came over the hearts of those -men, who here were toiling for their three or four pounds, denying -themselves almost rest at night that they might make a good -reaping at the harvest, and go back that they might enjoy it in -the home which they had left. All this is but a faint outline of -what has taken place in that unhappy country. Thousands of -individuals have died within the last two or three years in consequence -of the evictions which have taken place."</p></div> - -<p class="i1">The great loss of life in the famine of 1847 showed -that the peasantry had a miserable dependence upon -the chances of a good potato crop for the means of -keeping life in their bodies. Crowds of poor wretches, -after wandering about for a time like the ghosts of -human beings, starved to death by the roadside, victims -of the murderous policy of the landed aristocracy. -Since that period of horror, the great proprietors, -envious of the lurid fame achieved by the Duchess of -Sutherland in Scotland, have been evicting their tenants -on the most extensive scale, and establishing large farms -and pasturages, which they deem more profitable than -former arrangements. In despair at home, the wretched -Irish are casting their eyes to distant lands for a refuge -from slavery and starvation. But hundreds of thousands -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[Pg 24]</a></span> -groan in their hereditary serfdom, without the -means of reaching other and happier countries. The -dearest ties of family are sundered by the force of want. -The necessity of seeking a subsistence drives the father -to a distant land, while the child is compelled to remain -in Ireland a pauper. The husband can pay his own -passage to America, perchance, but the wife must stay -in the land of misery. Ask Ireland if a slave can -breathe in Great Britain! The long lamentation of -ages, uniting with the heart-broken utterances of her -present wretched bondsmen, might touch even the -British aristocracy in its reply.</p> - -<p class="i1">So much for the general condition of the peasantry -in the United Kingdom. The miserable consequences of -the system of lord and serf do not end here. No! There -are London, Manchester, Birmingham, Glasgow, Dublin, -and many other cities and towns, with their crowds of -slaves either in the factories and workshops, or in the -streets as paupers and criminals. There are said to be -upward of four millions of paupers in the United -Kingdom! Can such an amount of wretchedness be -found in any country upon the face of the globe? To -what causes are we to attribute this amount of pauperism, -save to the monopolies and oppressions of the -aristocracy? Think of there being in the United -Kingdom over eleven million acres of good land uncultivated, -and four millions of paupers! According to -Kay, more than two millions of people were kept from -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[Pg 25]</a></span> -starving in England and Wales, in 1848, by relief doled -out to them from public and private sources. So scant -are the earnings of those who labour day and night in -the cities and towns, that they may become paupers if -thrown out of work for a single week. Many from -town and country are driven by the fear of starvation -to labour in the mines, the horrors of which species of -slavery shall be duly illustrated farther on in this -work.</p> - -<p class="i1">Truly did Southey write—</p> - -<div class="bq"> - -<p class="i1">"To talk of English happiness, is like talking of Spartan freedom; -the <i>helots</i> are overlooked. In no country can such riches -be acquired by commerce, but it is the one who grows rich by -the labour of the hundred. The hundred human beings like -himself, as wonderfully fashioned by nature, gifted with the like -capacities, and equally made for immortality, are sacrificed <i>body -and soul</i>. Horrible as it must needs appear, the assertion is true -to the very letter. They are deprived in childhood of all instruction -and all enjoyment—of the sports in which childhood instinctively -indulges—of fresh air by day and of natural sleep by night. -Their health, physical and moral, is alike destroyed; they die of -diseases induced by unremitting task-work, by confinement in -the impure atmosphere of crowded rooms, by the particles of -metallic or vegetable dust which they are continually inhaling; -or they live to grow up without decency, without comfort, and -without hope—without morals, without religion, and without -shame; and bring forth <i>slaves</i> like themselves to tread in the -same path of misery."</p></div> - -<p class="i1">Again, the same distinguished Englishman says, in -number twenty-six of Espriella's Letters—</p> - -<div class="bq"> - -<p class="i1">"The English boast of their liberty, but there is <i>no liberty in -England for the poor</i>. They are no longer sold with the soil, it -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[Pg 26]</a></span> -is true; but they cannot quit the soil if there be any probability -or suspicion that age or infirmity may disable them. If, in such -a case, they endeavour to remove to some situation where they -hope more easily to maintain themselves, where work is more -plentiful or provisions cheaper, the overseers are alarmed, the -intruder is apprehended, as if he were a criminal, and sent back -to his own parish. Wherever a pauper dies, that parish must bear -the cost of his funeral. Instances, therefore, have not been -wanting of wretches, in the last stage of disease, having been -hurried away in an open cart, upon straw, and dying upon the -road. Nay, even women, in the very pains of labour, have been -driven out, and have perished by the wayside, because the birthplace -of the child would be its parish!"</p></div> - -<p class="i1">The sufferings of the rural labourers—the peasantry -of Great Britain and Ireland—are to be attributed to -the fact that they have no property in the land, and -cannot acquire any. The law of primogeniture, on -which the existence of the British aristocracy depends, -has, as we have already shown, placed the land and -those who labour on it—the soil and the serfs—at the -disposal of a few landed proprietors. The labourers are -not attached to the soil, and bought and sold with it, -as in Russia. The English aristocrat is too cunning to -adopt such a regulation, because it would involve the -necessity of supporting his slaves. They are <i>called</i> -freemen, in order to enable their masters to detach them -from the soil, and drive them forth to starve, when it -suits their convenience, without incurring any legal -penalty for their cruelty, such as the slaveholders of -other countries would suffer. The Russian, the Spanish, -the North American slaveholder must support his -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[Pg 27]</a></span> -slaves in sickness and helpless old age, or suffer the -penalties of the law for his neglect. The British slaveholder -alone may drive his slaves forth to starve in the -highway by hundreds and thousands; and no law of -Great Britain affords the means of punishing him for -his murderous cruelty. His Irish slaves may be saved -from starvation by American bounty, but he cannot be -punished until he shall meet his Judge at the day of -final account.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[Pg 28]</a></span></p> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2><a name="CHAPTER_II" id="CHAPTER_II"></a>CHAPTER II.</h2> -</div> - -<p class="ac">SLAVERY IN THE BRITISH MINES.</p> - - -<p class="i1"><span class="sc">In</span> proceeding to speak more particularly of the -various forms of British slavery, we will begin with -labour in the mines—the horrors of which became -known to the world through reports made to Parliament -in the summer of 1840. Pressed by the fear of general -execration, Parliament appointed a commission of inquiry, -which, after a thorough examination of all the -mines in the United Kingdom, made a voluminous report. -So shocking were the accounts of labour in the -mines given by this commission, that the delicate nerves -of several perfumed lords were grievously pained, and -they denounced the commissioners as being guilty of -exaggeration. Nevertheless, the evidence adduced by -the officers was unimpeachable, and their statements -were generally received as plain truth.</p> - -<div class="figcenter"><a name="i_028.jpg" id="i_028.jpg"></a> - <img src="images/i_028.jpg" - alt="" /> - <div class="caption">COAL GETTER AT WORK.</div> -</div> - -<p class="i1">The mining industry of the kingdom is divided into -two distinct branches—that of the coal and iron mines, -and that of the mines of tin, copper, lead, and zinc. -The "coal measures," as the geological formations -comprising the strata of coal are designated, are variously -dispersed in the middle, northern, and western -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[Pg 29]</a></span> -portions of South Britain, and in a broad belt of country -which traverses the centre of Scotland, from the -shores of Ayrshire to those of the Firth of Forth. -There are, also, some coal-tracts in Ireland, but they -are of comparatively small importance. In all these -districts, the coal is found in beds, interstratified for -the most part with various qualities of gritstone and -shale, in which, in some of the districts, occur layers -of ironstone, generally thin, but sometimes forming -large masses, as in the Forest of Dean. When the -surface of the coal country is mountainous and intersected -by deep ravines, as in South Wales, the mineral -deposites are approached by holes driven into the sides -of the hills; but the common access to them is by vertical -shafts, or well-holes, from the bottoms of which -horizontal roadways are extended in long and confined -passages through the coal strata, to bring all that is -hewn to the "pit's eye," or bottom of the shaft, for -winding up. It is requisite to have more than one -shaft in the same workings; but where the coal lies so -deep that the sinking of a distinct shaft requires an -enormous outlay of capital, only one large shaft is -sunk; and this is divided by wooden partitions, or -brattices, into several distinct channels. There must -always be one shaft or channel, called the "downcast -pit," for the air to descend; and another, called the -"upcast pit," for the return draught to ascend. The -apparatus for lowering and drawing up is generally in -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[Pg 30]</a></span> -the upcast shaft. This is either a steam-engine, a -horse-gin, or a hand-crank. The thickness of the -seams that are wrought varies from the eighteen-inch -seams of the Lancashire and Yorkshire hills, to the ten-yard -coal of South Staffordshire. But two, three, and -four feet are the more common thicknesses of the beds -that are wrought. When there is a good roof, or hard -rock immediately over the coal, with a tolerably solid -floor beneath it, thin coal-seams can be worked with -advantage, because the outlay of capital for propping -is then very limited; but the very hardness of the contiguous -strata would require an outlay almost as great -to make the roadways of a proper height for human -beings of any age to work in.</p> - -<p class="i1">By the evidence collected under the commission, it is -proved that there are coal-mines at present at work in -which some passages are so small, that even the youngest -children cannot move along them without crawling on -their hands and feet, in which constrained position they -drag the loaded carriages after them; and yet, as it is -impossible by any outlay compatible with a profitable -return, to render such coal-mines fit for human beings -to work in, they never will be placed in such a condition, -and, consequently, they never can be worked -without this child slavery! When the roads are six -feet high and upward, there is not only ample space -for carrying on the general operations of the mine, but -the coals can be drawn direct from the workings to the -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[Pg 31]</a></span> -foot of the shaft by the largest horses; and when the -main roads are four feet and a half high, the coals may -be conveyed to the foot of the shaft by ponies or asses. -But when the main ways are under four feet, the coals -can only be conveyed by children. Yet, in many mines, -the main gates are only from twenty-four to thirty -inches high. In this case, even the youngest children -must work in a bent position of the body. When the -inclination of the strata causes all the workings out of -the main ways to be on inclined plains, the young -labourers are not only almost worked to death, but exposed -to severe accidents in descending the plains with -their loads, out of one level into another. In many of -the mines, there is such a want of drainage and ventilation, -that fatal diseases are contracted by the miners.</p> - -<p class="i1">According to the report of the Parliamentary commission, -about one-third of the persons employed in the -coal-mines were under eighteen years of age, and much -more than one-third of this number were under thirteen -years of age. When the proprietor employs the whole -of the hands, not only will his general overseer be a -respectable person, but his underlookers will be taken -from the more honest, intelligent, and industrious of -the labouring colliers. Elsewhere, the rulers in pits -are such as the rudest class is likely to produce. The -great body of the children and young persons are, -however, of the families of the adult work-people employed -in the pits, or belong to the poor population of -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[Pg 32]</a></span> -the neighbourhood. But, in some districts, there are -numerous defenceless creatures who pass the whole of -their youth in the most abject slavery, into which they -are thrown chiefly by parish authorities, under the -name of apprenticeship. Said the Parliamentary commissioners -in their report—</p> - -<div class="bq"> - -<p class="i1">"There is one mode of engaging the labour of children and -young persons in coal-mines, peculiar to a few districts, which -deserves particular notice, viz. that by apprenticeship. The -district in which the practice of employing apprentices is most in -use, is South Staffordshire; it was formerly common in Shropshire, -but is now discontinued; it is still common in Yorkshire, -Lancashire, and the West of Scotland; in all the other districts, it -appears to be unknown. In Staffordshire, the sub-commissioner -states that the number of children and young persons working in -the mines as apprentices is exceedingly numerous; that these -apprentices are paupers or orphans, and are wholly in the power -of the butties;<a name="FNanchor_1_1" id="FNanchor_1_1"></a> -<a href="#Footnote_1_1" class="fnanchor">[1]</a> -that such is the demand for this class of children -by the butties, that there are scarcely any boys in the union -workhouses of Walsall, Wolverhampton, Dudley, and Stourbridge; -that these boys are sent on trial to the butties between the ages -of eight and nine, and at nine are bound as apprentices for twelve -years, that is, to the age of twenty-one years complete; that, notwithstanding -this long apprenticeship, there is nothing whatever -in the coal-mines to learn beyond a little dexterity, readily acquired -by short practice; and that even in the mines of Cornwall, -where much skill and judgment is required, there are no apprentices, -while, in the coal-mines of South Staffordshire, the orphan -whom necessity has driven into a workhouse, is made to labour -in the mines until the age of twenty-one, solely for the benefit of -another."</p></div> - -<p class="i1">Thomas Moorhouse, a collier boy, who was brought -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[Pg 33]</a></span> -to the notice of the Parliamentary commissioners, -said—</p> - -<div class="bq"> - -<p class="i1">"I don't know how old I am; father is dead; I am a chance -child; mother is dead also; I don't know how long she has been -dead; 'tis better na three years; I began to hurry<a name="FNanchor_2_2" id="FNanchor_2_2"></a> -<a href="#Footnote_2_2" class="fnanchor">[2]</a> when I was -nine years old for William Greenwood; I was apprenticed to him -till I should be twenty-one; my mother apprenticed me; I lived -with Greenwood; I don't know how long it was, but it was a -goodish while; he was bound to find me in victuals and drink -and clothes; I never had enough; he gave me some old clothes -to wear, which he bought at the rag-shop; the overseers gave him -a sovereign to buy clothes with, but he never laid it out; the -overseers bound me out with mother's consent from the township -of Southowram; I ran away from him because he lost my indentures, -for he served me very bad; he stuck a pick into me twice."</p></div> - -<p class="i1">Here the boy was made to strip, and the commissioner, -Mr. Symonds, found a large cicatrix likely to -have been occasioned by such an instrument, which -must have passed through the glutei muscles, and have -stopped only short of the hip-joint. There were twenty -other wounds, occasioned by hurrying in low workings, -upon and around the spinous processes of the vertebræ, -from the sacrum upward. The boy continued—</p> - -<div class="bq"> - -<p class="i1">"He used to hit me with the belt, and mawl or sledge, and -fling coals at me. He served me so bad that I left him, and went -about to see if I could get a job. I used to sleep in the cabins -upon the pit's bank, and in the old pits that had done working. -I laid upon the shale all night. I used to get what I could to -eat. I ate for a long time the candles that I found in the pits -that the colliers left over night. I had nothing else to eat. I -looked about for work, and begged of the people a bit. I got to -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[Pg 34]</a></span> -Bradford after a while, and had a job there for a month while a -collier's lad was poorly. When he came back, I was obliged to -leave."</p></div> - -<p class="i1">Another case was related by Mr. Kennedy, one of -the commissioners. A boy, named Edward Kershaw, -had been apprenticed by the overseers of Castleton to -a collier of the name of Robert Brierly, residing at -Balsgate, who worked in a pit in the vicinity of Rooley -Moor. The boy was examined, and from twenty-four -to twenty-six wounds were found upon his body. His -posteriors and loins were beaten to a jelly; his head, -which was almost cleared of hair on the scalp, had the -marks of many old wounds upon it which had healed -up. One of the bones in one arm was broken below -the elbow, and, from appearances, seemed to have been -so for some time. The boy, on being brought before -the magistrates, was unable either to sit or stand, and -was placed on the floor of the office, laid on his side on -a small cradle-bed. It appears from the evidence, that -the boy's arm had been broken by a blow with an iron -rail, and the fracture had never been set, and that he -had been kept at work for several weeks with his arm -in the condition above described. It further appeared -in evidence, and was admitted by Brierly, that he had -been in the habit of beating the boy with a flat piece -of wood, in which a nail was driven and projected about -half an inch. The blows had been inflicted with such -violence that they penetrated the skin, and caused the -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[Pg 35]</a></span> -wounds above mentioned. The body of the boy presented -all the marks of emaciation. This brutal master -had kept the boy at work as a wagoner until he was no -longer of any use, and then sent him home in a cart to -his mother, who was a poor widow, residing in Church -lane, Rochdale. And yet it is said that a slave cannot -breathe the air of England!</p> - -<p class="i1">The want of instruction, and the seclusion from the -rest of the world, which is common to the colliers, give -them a sad pre-eminence over every other class of -labourers, in ignorance and callousness; and when they -are made masters, what can be expected? In all cases -of apprenticeship, the children are bound till they -attain the age of twenty-one years. If the master dies -before the apprentice attains the age of twenty-one -years, the apprentice is equally bound as the servant -of his deceased master's heirs, executors, administrators, -and assigns. In fact, the apprentice is part of the -deceased master's goods and chattels!</p> - -<p class="i1">But, to speak more particularly of the labour of the -children:—The employment of the adult collier is almost -exclusively in the "getting" of the coal from its -natural resting-place, of which there are various methods, -according to the nature of the seams and the -habits of the several districts. That of the children -and young persons consists principally either in tending -the air-doors where the coal-carriages must pass through -openings, the immediately subsequent stoppage of which -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[Pg 36]</a></span> -is necessary to preserve the ventilation in its proper -channels, or in the conveyance of the coal from the -bays or recesses in which it is hewn, along the subterranean -roadways, to the bottom of the pit-shaft; a -distance varying from absolute contiguity even to miles, -in the great coal-fields of the North of England, where -the depth requires that the same expensive shaft shall -serve for the excavation of a large tract of coal. The -earliest employment of children in the pits is generally -to open and shut the doors, upon the proper custody of -which the ventilation and safety of the whole mine -depends. These little workmen are called "trappers." -Of the manner in which they pass their earlier days, -Dr. Mitchell, a distinguished Englishman, has given a -very interesting sketch, which deserves to be quoted -here entire:—</p> - -<div class="bq"> - -<p class="i1">"The little trapper, of eight years of age, lies quiet in bed. It -is now between two and three in the morning, and his mother -shakes him and desires him to rise, and tells him that his father -has an hour ago gone off to the pit. He turns on his side, rubs -his eyes, and gets up, and comes to the blazing fire and puts on -his clothes. His coffee, such as it is, stands by the side of the -fire, and bread is laid down for him. The fortnight is now well -advanced, the money all spent, and butter, bacon, and other -luxurious accompaniments of bread, are not to be had at breakfast -till next pay-day supply the means. He then fills his tin -bottle with coffee and takes a lump of bread, sets out for the pit, -into which he goes down in the cage, and walking along the -horse-way for upward of a mile, he reaches the barrow-way, over -which the young men and boys push the trams with the tubs on -rails to the flats, where the barrow-way and horse-way meet, and -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[Pg 37]</a></span> -where the tubs are transferred to rolleys or carriages drawn by -horses.</p> - -<div class="figcenter"><a name="i_036.jpg" id="i_036.jpg"></a> - <img src="images/i_036.jpg" - alt="" /> - <div class="caption">THRUSTERS AND TRAPPER.</div> -</div> - -<p class="i1">"He knows his place of work. It is inside one of the doors -called trap-doors, which is in the barrow-way, for the purpose of -forcing the stream of air which passes in its long, many-miled -course from the down-shaft to the up-shaft of the pit; but which -door must be opened whenever men or boys, with or without carriages, -may wish to pass through. He seats himself in a little -hole, about the size of a common fireplace, and with the string in -his hand; and all his work is to pull that string when he has to -open the door, and when man or boy has passed through, then -to allow the door to shut of itself. Here it is his duty to sit, and -be attentive, and pull his string promptly as any one approaches. -He may not stir above a dozen steps with safety from his charge, -lest he should be found neglecting his duty, and suffer for the -same.</p> - -<p class="i1">"He sits solitary by himself, and has no one to talk to him; -for in the pit the whole of the people, men and boys, are as busy -as if they were in a sea-fight. He, however, sees now and then -the putters urging forward their trams through his gate, and -derives some consolation from the glimmer of the little candle of -about 40 to the pound, which is fixed on their trams. For he -himself has no light. His hours, except at such times, are passed -in total darkness. For the first week of his service in the pit -his father had allowed him candles to light one after another, -but the expense of three halfpence a day was so extravagant -expenditure out of tenpence, the boy's daily wages, that his -father, of course, withdrew the allowance the second week, all -except one or two candles in the morning, and the week after the -allowance was altogether taken away; and now, except a neighbour -kinder than his father now and then drop him a candle as -he passes, the boy has no light of his own.</p> - -<p class="i1">"Thus hour after hour passes away; but what are hours to -him, seated in darkness, in the bowels of the earth? He knows -nothing of the ascending or descending sun. Hunger, however, -though silent and unseen, acts upon him, and he betakes to his -bottle of coffee and slice of bread; and, if desirous, he may have -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[Pg 38]</a></span> -the luxury of softening it in a portion of water in the pit, which -is brought down for man and beast.</p> - -<p class="i1">"In this state of sepulchral existence, an insidious enemy gains -upon him. His eyes are shut, and his ears fail to announce the -approach of a tram. A deputy overman comes along, and a -smart cut of his yardwand at once punishes the culprit and recalls -him to his duty; and happy was it for him that he fell into -the hands of the deputy overman, rather than one of the putters; -for his fist would have inflicted a severer pain. The deputy -overman moreover consoles him by telling him that it was for his -good that he punished him; and reminds him of boys, well known -to both, who, when asleep, had fallen down, and some had been -severely wounded, and others killed. The little trapper believes -that he is to blame, and makes no complaint, for he dreads being -discharged; and he knows that his discharge would be attended -with the loss of wages, and bring upon him the indignation of -his father, more terrible to endure than the momentary vengeance -of the deputy and the putters all taken together.</p> - -<p class="i1">"Such is the day-work of the little trapper in the barrow-way.</p> - -<p class="i1">"At last, the joyful sound of 'Loose, loose,' reaches his ears. -The news of its being four o'clock, and of the order, 'Loose, loose,' -having been shouted down the shaft, is by systematic arrangement -sent for many miles in all directions round the farthest -extremities of the pit. The trapper waits until the last putter -passes with his tram, and then he follows and pursues his journey -to the foot of the shaft, and takes an opportunity of getting into -the cage and going up when he can. By five o'clock he may -probably get home. Here he finds a warm dinner, baked potatoes, -and broiled bacon lying above them. He eats heartily at the -warm fire, and sits a little after. He dare not go out to play -with other boys, for the more he plays the more he is sure to -sleep the next day in the pit. He, therefore, remains at home, -until, feeling drowsy, he then repeats the prayer taught by our -blessed Lord, takes off his clothes, is thoroughly washed in hot -water by his mother, and is laid in his bed."</p></div> - -<div class="figcenter"><a name="i_038.jpg" id="i_038.jpg"></a> - <img src="images/i_038.jpg" - alt="" /> - <div class="caption">HURRIER AND THRUSTER.</div> -</div> - -<p class="i1">The evidence of the Parliamentary commissioners -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[Pg 39]</a></span> -proves that Dr. Mitchell has given the life of the young -trapper a somewhat softened colouring. Mr. Scriven -states that the children employed in this way become -almost idiotic from the long, dark, solitary confinement. -Many of them never see the light of day during the -winter season, except on Sundays.</p> - -<p class="i1">The loaded corves drawn by the hurriers weigh from -two to five hundred-weight. These carriages are mounted -upon four cast-iron wheels of five inches in diameter, -there being, in general, no rails from the headings to the -main gates. The children have to drag these carriages -through passages in some cases not more than from -sixteen to twenty inches in height. Of course, to accomplish -this, the young children must crawl on their -hands and feet. To render their labour the more easy, -the sub-commissioner states that they buckle round -their naked person a broad leather strap, to which is -attached in front a ring and about four feet of chain, -terminating in a hook. As soon as they enter the main -gates, they detach the harness from the corve, change -their position by getting behind it, and become "thrusters." -The carriage is then placed upon the rail, a -candle is stuck fast by a piece of wet clay, and away -they run with amazing swiftness to the shaft, pushing -the loads with their heads and hands. The younger -children thrust in pairs.</p> - -<div class="bq"> - -<p class="i1">"After trapping," says the report of the commissioners, "the -next labour in the ascending scale to which the children are put, is -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[Pg 40]</a></span> -'thrutching,' or thrusting, which consists in being helper to a -'drawer,' or 'wagoner,' who is master, or 'butty,' over the -'thrutcher,' In some pits, the thrutcher has his head protected -by a thick cap, and he will keep on his trousers and clogs; but -in others, he works nearly naked. The size of the loads which -he has to thrutch varies with the thickness of the seam; and with -the size, varies his butty's method of proceeding, which is either -as a drawer or a wagoner. The drawers are those who use the -belt and chain. Their labour consists in loading, with the coals -hewn down by the 'getter,' an oblong tub without wheels, and -dragging this tub on its sledge bottom by means of a girdle of -rough leather passing round the body, and a chain of iron attached -to that girdle in front, and hooked to the sledge. The drawer -has, with the aid of his thrutcher, to sledge the tub in this manner -from the place of getting to the mainway, generally down, -though sometimes up, a brow or incline of the same steepness as -the inclination of the strata; in descending which he goes to the -front of his tub, where his light is fixed, and, turning his face to -it, regulates its motion down the hill, as, proceeding back foremost, -he pulls it along by his belt. When he gets to the mainway, -which will be at various distances not exceeding forty or -fifty yards from his loading-place, he has to leave this tub upon a -low truck running on small iron wheels, and then to go and fetch -a second, which will complete its load, and with these two to -join with his thrutcher in pushing it along the iron railway to -the pit bottom to have the tubs successively hooked on to the -drawing-rope. Returning with his tubs empty, he leaves the -mainway, first with one, and then with the other tub, to get -them loaded, dragging them up the 'brow' by his belt and chain, -the latter of which he now passes between his legs, so as to pull, -face foremost, on all fours. In the thin seams, this labour has -to be performed in bays, leading from the place of getting to the -mainways, of scarcely more than twenty inches in height, and in -mainways of only two feet six inches, and three feet high, for the -seam itself will only be eighteen inches thick.</p> - -<p class="i1">"Wagoning is a form of drawing which comes into use with -the more extensive employment of railways in the thicker seams -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[Pg 41]</a></span>. -The tubs here used are large, and all mounted on wheels. From -the place of getting, the loads are pushed by the wagoners with -hands and heads to the bottom of the pit along the levels; and -where they have to descend from one level into another, this is -generally done by a cut at right angles directly with the dip, -down the 'brow' which it makes. Here there is a winch or -pinion for jigging the wagons down the incline, with a jigger at -the top and a hooker-on at the bottom of the plane, where it is -such as to require these. The jiggers and the hookers-on are -children of twelve or thirteen. Sometimes the descent from one -line of level into another is by a diagonal cutting at a small -angle from the levels, called a slant, down which the wagoners -can, and do, in some instances, take their wagons without jigging, -by their own manual labour; and a very rough process it is, -owing to the impetus which so great a weight acquires, notwithstanding -the scotching of the wheels."</p></div> - -<p class="i1">Mr. Kennedy thus describes the position of the children, -in the combined drawing and thrutching:—</p> - -<div class="bq"> - -<p class="i1">"The child in front is harnessed by his belt or chain to the -wagon; the two boys behind are assisting in pushing it forward. -Their heads, it will be observed, are brought down to a level with -the wagon, and the body almost in the horizontal position. This -is done partly to avoid striking the roof, and partly to gain the -advantage of the muscular action, which is greatest in that position. -It will be observed, the boy in front goes on his hands and -feet: in that manner, the whole weight of his body is, in fact, -supported by the chain attached to the wagon and his feet, and, -consequently, his power of drawing is greater than it would be -if he crawled on his knees. These boys, by constantly pushing -against the wagons, occasionally rub off the hair from the crowns -of their heads so much as to make them almost bald."</p></div> - -<p class="i1">In Derbyshire, some of the pits are altogether worked -by boys. The seams are so thin, that several have -only a two-feet headway to all the workings. The boy -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[Pg 42]</a></span> -who gets the coal, lies on his side while at work. The -coal is then loaded in a barrow, or tub, and drawn -along the bank to the pit mouth by boys from eight to -twelve years of age, on all fours, with a dog-belt and -chain, the passages being very often an inch or two -thick in black mud, and neither ironed nor wooded. -In Mr. Barnes's pit, these boys have to drag the barrows -with one hundred-weight of coal or slack, sixty times a -day, sixty yards, and the empty barrows back, without -once straightening their backs, unless they choose to -stand under the shaft and run the risk of having their -heads broken by coal falling.</p> - -<p class="i1">In some of the mines, the space of the workings is -so small that the adult colliers are compelled to carry -on their operations in a stooping posture; and, in others, -they are obliged to work lying their whole length along -the uneven floor, and supporting their heads upon a -board or short crutch. In these low, dark, heated, -and dismal chambers, they work perfectly naked. In -many of the thin-seam mines, the labour of "getting" -coal, so severe for adults, was found by the commissioners -to be put upon children from nine to twelve -years of age.</p> - -<p class="i1">If the employment of boys in such a way be, as a -miner said to the commissioners, "barbarity, barbarity," -what are we to think of the slavery of female children -in the same abyss of darkness? How shall we express -our feelings upon learning that females, in the years -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[Pg 43]</a></span> -of opening womanhood, are engaged in the same occupations -as their male companions, in circumstances -repugnant to the crudest sense of decency? Yet we -have unimpeachable evidence that, at the time of the -investigations of the commissioners, females were thus -employed; and there is reason to believe that this is -still the case.</p> - -<div class="figcenter"><a name="i_042.jpg" id="i_042.jpg"></a> - <img src="images/i_042.jpg" - alt="" /> - <div class="caption">COAL GETTER.</div> -</div> - -<p class="i1">The commissioners found females employed like the -males in the labours of the mines in districts of Yorkshire -and Lancashire, in the East of Scotland, and in -Wales. In great numbers of the pits visited, the men -were working in a state of entire nakedness, and were -assisted by females of all ages, from girls of six years -old to women of twenty-one—these females being -themselves quite naked down to the waist. Mr. -Thomas Pearce says that in the West Riding of Yorkshire—</p> - -<div class="bq"> - -<p class="i1">"The girls hurry with a belt and chain, as well as thrust. -There are as many girls as boys employed about here. One of -the most disgusting sights I have ever seen, was that of young -females, dressed like boys in trousers, crawling on all fours, with -belts around their waists and chains passing between their legs, -at day-pits at Thurshelf Bank, and in many small pits near -Holmfirth and New Mills. It exists also in several other places."</p></div> - -<p class="i1">In the neighbourhood of Halifax, it is stated that -there is no distinction whatever between the boys and -girls in their coming up the shaft and going down; in -their mode of hurrying or thrusting; in the weight of -corves; in the distance they are hurried; in wages or -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[Pg 44]</a></span> -dress; that the girls associate and labour with men who -are in a state of nakedness, and that they have themselves -no other garment than a ragged shift, or, in the -absence of that, a pair of broken trousers, to cover their -persons.</p> - -<p class="i1">Here are specimens of the evidence taken by the -commissioners:—</p> - -<div class="bq"> - -<p class="i1">"Susan Pitchforth, aged eleven, Elland: 'I have worked in -this pit going two years. I have one sister going of fourteen, -and she works with me in the pit. I am a thruster.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'This child,' said the sub-commissioner, 'stood shivering -before me from cold. The rags that hung about her waist were -once called a shift, which was as black as the coal she thrust, -and saturated with water—the drippings of the roof and shaft. -During my examination of her, the banksman, whom I had left -in the pit, came to the public-house and wanted to take her away, -because, as he expressed himself, it was not decent that she -should be exposed to us.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"Patience Kershaw, aged seventeen: 'I hurry in the clothes -I have now got on, (trousers and ragged jacket;) the bald place -upon my head is made by thrusting the corves; the getters I -work for are naked except their caps; they pull off their clothes; -all the men are naked.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"Mary Barrett, aged fourteen: 'I work always without stockings, -or shoes, or trousers; I wear nothing but my shift; I have -to go up to the headings with the men; they are all naked there; -I am got well used to that, and don't care much about it; I was -afraid at first, and did not like it.'"</p> - -<p class="i1">In the Lancashire coal-fields lying to the north and west of -Manchester, females are regularly employed in underground -labour; and the brutal policy of the men, and the abasement of -the women, is well described by some of the witnesses examined -by Mr. Kennedy.</p> - -<p class="i1">"Peter Gaskill, collier, at Mr. Lancaster's, near Worsley: -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[Pg 45]</a></span> -'Prefers women to boys as drawers; they are better to manage, -and keep the time better; they will fight and shriek and do every -thing but let anybody pass them; and they never get to be coal-getters—that -is another good thing.'</p> - -<div class="figcenter"><a name="i_045.jpg" id="i_045.jpg"></a> - <img src="images/i_045.jpg" - alt="" /> - <div class="caption">GIRL WITH COAL CART IN THIN SEAM.</div> -</div> - -<p class="i1">"Betty Harris, aged thirty-seven, drawer in a coal-pit, Little -Bolton: 'I have a belt round my waist and a chain passing between -my legs, and I go on my hands and feet. The road is very -steep, and we have to hold by a rope, and when there is no rope, -by any thing we can catch hold of. There are six women and -about six boys and girls in the pit I work in; it is very hard -work for a woman. The pit is very wet where I work, and the -water comes over our clog-tops always, and I have seen it up to -my thighs; it rains in at the roof terribly; my clothes are wet -through almost all day long. I never was ill in my life but -when I was lying-in. My cousin looks after my children in the -daytime. I am very tired when I get home at night; I fall asleep -sometimes before I get washed. I am not so strong as I was, -and cannot stand my work so well as I used to do. I have drawn -till I have had the skin off me. The belt and chain is worse when -we are in the family-way. My feller (husband) has beaten me -many a time for not being ready. I were not used to it at first, -and he had little patience; I have known many a man beat his -drawer.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"Mary Glover, aged thirty-eight, at Messrs. Foster's, Ringley -Bridge: 'I went into a coal-pit when I was seven years old, and -began by being a drawer. I never worked much in the pit when -I was in the family-way, but since I have gave up having children, -I have begun again a bit. I wear a shift and a pair of -trousers when at work. I always will have a good pair of trousers. -I have had many a twopence given me by the boatmen on -the canal to show my breeches. I never saw women work naked, -but I have seen men work without breeches in the neighbourhood -of Bolton. I remember seeing a man who worked stark naked.'"</p></div> - -<p class="i1">In the East of Scotland, the business of the females -is to remove the coals from the hewer who has picked -them from the wall-face, and placing them either on -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[Pg 46]</a></span> -their backs, which they invariably do when working in -edge-seams, or in <i>little carts</i> when on levels, to carry -them to the main road, where they are conveyed to the -pit bottom, where, being emptied into the ascending -basket of the shaft, they are wound by machinery to -the pit's mouth, where they lie heaped for further distribution. -Mr. Franks, an Englishman, says of this -barbarous toil—</p> - -<div class="bq"> - -<p class="i1">"Now when the nature of this horrible labour is taken into -consideration; its extreme severity; its regular duration of from -twelve to fourteen hours daily; the damp, heated, and unwholesome -atmosphere of a coal-mine, and the tender age and sex of -the workers, a picture is presented of deadly physical oppression -and systematic slavery, of which I conscientiously believe no one -unacquainted with such facts would credit the existence in the -British dominions."</p></div> - -<p class="i1">The loads of coal carried on the backs of females -vary in weight from three-quarters of a hundred-weight -to three hundred-weight. In working edge-seams, or -highly inclined beds, the load must be borne to the -surface, or to the pit-bottom, up winding stairs, or a -succession of steep ladders. The disgrace of this peculiar -form of oppression is said to be confined to -Scotland, "where, until nearly the close of the last -century, the colliers remained in a state of legal bondage, -and formed a degraded caste, apart from all humanizing -influences and sympathy." From all accounts, -they are not much improved in condition at the present -time.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[Pg 47]</a></span></p> - -<p class="i1">A sub-commissioner thus describes a female child's -labour in a Scottish mine, and gives some of the evidence -he obtained:—</p> - -<div class="bq"> - -<p class="i1">"She has first to descend a nine-ladder pit to the first rest, -even to which a shaft is sunk, to draw up the baskets or tubs of -coals filled by the bearers; she then takes her creel (a basket -formed to the back, not unlike a cockle-shell, flattened toward -the back of the neck, so as to allow lumps of coal to rest on the -back of the neck and shoulders,) and pursues her journey to the -wall-face, or, as it is called here, the room of work. She then -lays down her basket, into which the coal is rolled, and it is frequently -more than one man can do to lift the burden on her back. -The tugs or straps are placed over the forehead, and the body -bent in a semicircular form, in order to stiffen the arch. Large -lumps of coal are then placed on the neck, and she then commences -her journey with her burden to the bottom, first hanging -her lamp to the cloth crossing her head. In this girl's case, she -has first to travel about fourteen fathoms (eighty-four feet) from -wall-face to the first ladder, which is eighteen feet high; leaving -the first ladder, she proceeds along the main road, probably three -feet six inches to four feet six inches high, to the second ladder, -eighteen feet high; so on to the third and fourth ladders, till she -reaches the pit-bottom, where she casts her load, varying from -one hundred-weight to one hundred-weight and a half, in the tub. -This one journey is designated a rake; the height ascended, and -the distance along the roads added together, exceed the height of -St. Paul's Cathedral; and it not unfrequently happens that the -tugs break, and the load falls upon those females who are following. -However incredible it may be, yet I have taken the evidence -of fathers who have ruptured themselves from straining to -lift coal on their children's backs.</p> - -<p class="i1">"Janet Cumming, eleven years old, bears coals: 'I gang with -the women at five, and come up with the women at five at night; -work <i>all night</i> on Fridays, and come away at twelve in the day. -I carry the large bits of coal from the wall-face to the pit-bottom, -and the small pieces called chows in a creel. The weight is -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[Pg 48]</a></span> -usually a hundred-weight, does not know how many pounds -there are in a hundred-weight, but it is some weight to carry; it -takes three journeys to fill a tub of four hundred-weight. The -distance varies, as the work is not always on the same wall; -sometimes one hundred and fifty fathoms, whiles two hundred -and fifty fathoms. The roof is very low; I have to bend my back -and legs, and the water comes frequently up to the calves of my -legs. Has no liking for the work; father makes me like it. -Never got hurt, but often obliged to scramble out of the pit when -bad air was in.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"William Hunter, mining oversman, Arniston Colliery: 'I -have been twenty years in the works of Robert Dundas, Esq., -and had much experience in the manner of drawing coal, as well -as the habits and practices of the collier people. Until the last -eight months, women and lasses were wrought below in these -works, when Mr. Alexander Maxton, our manager, issued an -order to exclude them from going below, having some months -prior given intimation of the same. Women always did the -lifting or heavy part of the work, and neither they nor the children -were treated like human beings, nor are they where they -are employed. Females submit to work in places where no man -or even lad could be got to labour in; they work in bad roads, -up to their knees in water, in a posture nearly double; they are -below till the last hour of pregnancy; they have swelled haunches -and ankles, and are prematurely brought to the grave, or, what -is worse, lingering existence. Many of the daughters of the -miners are now at respectable service. I have two who are in -families at Leith, and who are much delighted with the change.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"Robert Bald, Esq., the eminent coal-viewer, states that, 'In -surveying the workings of an extensive colliery under ground, a -married woman came forward, groaning under an excessive -weight of coals, trembling in every nerve, and almost unable to -keep her knees from sinking under her. On coming up, she -said, in a plaintive and melancholy voice, "Oh, sir, this is sore, -sore, sore work. I wish to God that the first woman who tried -to bear coals had broke her back, and none would have tried it -again."</p></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[Pg 49]</a></span></p> - -<p class="i1">The boxes or carriages employed in putting are of -two kinds—the hutchie and the slype; the hutchie being -an oblong, square-sided box with four wheels, which -usually runs on a rail; and the slype a wood-framed -box, curved and shod with iron at the bottom, holding -from two and a quarter to five hundred-weight of coal, -adapted to the seams through which it is dragged. The -lad or lass is harnessed over the shoulders and back -with a strong leathern girth, which, behind, is furnished -with an iron-hook, which is attached to a chain fastened -to the coal-cart or slype. The dresses of these girls -are made of coarse hempen stuff, fitting close to the -figures; the coverings to their heads are made of the -same material. Little or no flannel is used, and their -clothing, being of an absorbent nature, frequently gets -completely saturated shortly after descending the pit. -We quote more of the evidence obtained by the commissioners. -It scarcely needs any comment:—</p> - -<div class="bq"> - -<p class="i1">"Margaret Hipps, seventeen years old, putter, Stoney Rigg -Colliery, Stirlingshire: 'My employment, after reaching the -wall-face, is to fill my bagie, or slype, with two and a half to -three hundred-weight of coal. I then hook it on to my chain and -drag it through the seam, which is twenty-six to twenty-eight inches -high, till I get to the main road—a good distance, probably two -hundred to four hundred yards. The pavement I drag over is -wet, and I am obliged at all times to crawl on hands and feet with -my bagie hung to the chain and ropes. It is sad sweating and -sore fatiguing work, and frequently maims the women.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"Sub-commissioner: 'It is almost incredible that human beings -can submit to such employment, crawling on hands and knees, -harnessed like horses, over soft, slushy floors, more difficult than -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[Pg 50]</a></span> -dragging the same weights through our lowest common sewers, -and more difficult in consequence of the inclination, which is frequently -one in three to one in six.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"Agnes Moffatt, seventeen years old, coal-bearer: 'Began -working at ten years of age; father took sister and I down; he -gets our wages. I fill five baskets; the weight is more than -twenty-two hundred-weight; it takes me twenty journeys. The -work is o'er sair for females. It is no uncommon for women to -lose their burden, and drop off the ladder down the dyke below; -Margaret McNeil did a few weeks since, and injured both legs. -When the tugs which pass over the forehead break, which they -frequently do, it is very dangerous to be under with a load.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"Margaret Jacques, seventeen years of age, coal-bearer: 'I -have been seven years at coal-bearing; it is horrible sore work; -it was not my choice, but we do our parents' will. I make thirty -rakes a day, with two hundred-weight of coal on my creel. It is -a guid distance I journey, and very dangerous on parts of the -road. The distance fast increases as the coals are cut down.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"Helen Reid, sixteen years old, coal-bearer: 'I have wrought -five years in the mines in this part; my employment is carrying -coal. Am frequently worked from four in the morning until six -at night. I work night-work week about, (alternate weeks.) I -then go down at two in the day, and come up at four and six in -the morning. I can carry near two hundred-weight <i>on</i> my back. -I do not like the work. Two years since the pit closed upon -thirteen of us, and we were two days without food or light; nearly -one day we were up to our chins in water. At last we got to an -old shaft, to which we picked our way, and were heard by -people watching above. Two months ago, I was filling the tubs -at the pit bottom, when the gig clicked too early, and the hook -caught me by my pit-clothes—the people did not hear my shrieks—my -hand had fast grappled the chain, and the great height of -the shaft caused me to lose my courage, and I swooned. The -banksman could scarcely remove my hand—the deadly grasp -saved my life.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"Margaret Drysdale, fifteen years old, coal-putter: 'I don't -like the work, but mother is dead, and father brought me down; -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[Pg 51]</a></span> -I had no choice. The lasses will tell you that they all like the -work fine, as they think you are going to take them out of the -pits. My employment is to draw the carts. I have harness, or -draw-ropes on, like the horses, and pull the carts. Large carts -hold seven hundred-weight and a half, the smaller five hundred-weight -and a half. The roads are wet, and I have to draw the -work about one hundred fathoms.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"Katherine Logan, sixteen years old, coal-putter: 'Began to -work at coal-carrying more than five years since; works in harness -now; draw backward with face to tubs; the ropes and -chains go under my pit-clothes; it is o'er sair work, especially -where we crawl.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"Janet Duncan, seventeen years old, coal-putter: 'Works at -putting, and was a coal-bearer at Hen-Muir Pit and New Pencaitland. -The carts I push contain three hundred-weight of coal, -being a load and a half; it is very severe work, especially when -we have to stay before the tubs, on the braes, to prevent them -coming down too fast; they frequently run too quick, and knock -us down; when they run over fast, we fly off the roads and let them -go, or we should be crushed. Mary Peacock was severely crushed -a fortnight since; is gradually recovering. I have wrought above -in harvest time; it is the only other work that ever I tried my -hand at, and having harvested for three seasons, am able to say -that the hardest daylight work is infinitely superior to the best -of coal-work.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"Jane Wood, wife of James Wood, formerly a coal-drawer and -bearer: 'Worked below more than thirty years. I have two -daughters below, who really hate the employment, and often -prayed to leave, but we canna do well without them just now. -The severe work causes women much trouble; they frequently -have premature births. Jenny McDonald, a neighbour, was laid -idle six months; and William King's wife lately died from miscarriage, -and a vast of women suffer from similar causes.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"Margaret Boxter, fifty years old, coal-hewer: 'I hew the -coal; have done so since my husband failed in his breath; he has -been off work twelve years. I have a son, daughter, and niece -working with me below, and we have sore work to get maintenance. -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[Pg 52]</a></span> -I go down early to hew the coal for my girls to draw; -my son hews also. The work is not fit for women, and men -could prevent it were they to labour more regular; indeed, men -about this place don't wish wives to work in mines, but the -masters seem to encourage it—at any rate, the masters never -interfere to prevent it.'"</p> - -<p class="i1">"The different kinds of work to which females are put in South -Wales, are described in the following evidence:—</p> - -<p class="i1">"Henrietta Frankland, eleven years old, drammer: 'When -well, I draw the drams, (carts,) which contain four to five hundred-weight -of coal, from the heads to the main road; I make -forty-eight to fifty journeys; sister, who is two years older, works -also at dramming; the work is very hard, and the long hours -before the pay-day fatigue us much. The mine is wet where we -work, as the water passes through the roof, and the workings are -only thirty to thirty-three inches high.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"Mary Reed, twelve years old, air-door keeper: 'Been five -years in the Plymouth mine. Never leaves till the last dram -(cart) is drawn past by the horse. Works from six till four or -five at night. Has run home very hungry; runs along the level -or hangs on a cart as it passes. Does not like the work in the -dark; would not mind the daylight work.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"Hannah Bowen, sixteen years old, windlass-woman: 'Been -down two years; it is good hard work; work from seven in the -morning till three or four in the afternoon at hauling the windlass. -Can draw up four hundred loads of one hundred-weight -and a half to four hundred-weight each.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"Ann Thomas, sixteen years old, windlass-woman: 'Finds -the work very hard; two women always work the windlass -below ground. We wind up eight hundred loads. Men do not -like the winding, <i>it is too hard work for them</i>.'"</p></div> - -<p class="i1">The commissioners ascertained that when the work-people -were in full employment, the regular hours for -children and young persons were rarely less than -eleven; more often they were twelve; in some districts, -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[Pg 53]</a></span> -they are thirteen; and, in one district, they are generally -fourteen and upward. In Derbyshire, south of -Chesterfield, from thirteen to sixteen hours are considered -a day's work. Of the exhausting effects of such -labour for so long a time, we shall scarcely need any -particular evidence. But one boy, named John Bostock, -told the commissioners that he had often been -made to work until he was so tired as to lie down on -his road home until twelve o'clock, when his mother -had come and led him home; and that he had sometimes -been so tired that he could not eat his dinner, -but had been beaten and made to work until night. -Many other cases are recorded:—</p> - -<div class="bq"> - -<p class="i1">"John Rawson, collier, aged forty: 'I work at Mr. Sorby's -pit, Handsworth. I think the children are worked overmuch -sometimes.'—<i>Report</i>, No. 81, p. 243, 1. 25.</p> - -<p class="i1">"Peter Waring, collier, Billingby: 'I never should like my -children to go in. They are not beaten; it is the work that hurts -them; it is mere slavery, and nothing but it.'—Ibid. No. 125, -p. 256, 1. 6.</p> - -<p class="i1">"John Hargreave, collier, Thorpe's Colliery: 'Hurrying is -heavy work for children. They ought not to work till they are -twelve years old, and then put two together for heavy corves.'—Ibid. -No. 130, p. 256, 1. 44.</p> - -<p class="i1">"Mr. Timothy Marshall, collier, aged thirty-five, Darton: 'I -think the hurrying is what hurts girls, and it is too hard work -for their strength; I think that children cannot be educated after -they once get to work in pits; they are both tired and even disinclined -to learn when they have done work.'—Ibid. No. 141, p. -262, 1. 39.</p> - -<p class="i1">"A collier at Mr. Travis's pit: 'The children get but little -schooling; six or seven out of nine or ten know nothing. They -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[Pg 54]</a></span> -never go to night-schools, except some odd ones. When the -children get home, they cannot go to school, for they have to be -up so early in the morning—soon after four—and they cannot do -without rest.'—Ibid. No. 94, p. 246, 1. 33.</p> - -<p class="i1">"Mr. George Armitage, aged thirty-six, formerly collier at -Silkstone, now teacher at Hayland School: 'Little can be learnt -merely on Sundays, and they are too tired as well as indisposed -to go to night-schools. I am decidedly of opinion that when -trade is good, the work of hurriers is generally continuous; but -when there are two together, perhaps the little one will have a -rest while the big one is filling or riddling.'—Ibid., No. 138, p. -261, 1. 24.</p> - -<p class="i1">"William Firth, between six and seven years old, Deal Wood -Pit, Flockton: 'I hurry with my sister. I don't like to be in pit. -I was crying to go out this morning. It tires me a good deal.'—Ibid. -No. 218, p. 282, 1. 11.</p> - -<p class="i1">"John Wright, hurrier in Thorpe's colliery: 'I shall be nine -years old next Whitsuntide. It tires me much. It tires my -arms. I have been two years in the pit, and have been hurrying -all the time. It tries the small of my arms.'—Ibid. No. 129, p. -256, 1. 31.</p> - -<p class="i1">"Daniel Dunchfield: 'I am going in ten; I am more tired in -the forenoon than at night; it makes my back ache; I work all -day the same as the other boys; I rest me when I go home at -night; I never go to play at night; I get my supper and go to bed.'—Ibid. -No. 63, p. 238, 1. 32.</p> - -<p class="i1">"George Glossop, aged twelve: 'I help to fill and hurry, and am -always tired at night when I've done.'—Ibid. No. 50, p. 236, 1. 21.</p> - -<p class="i1">"Martin Stanley: 'I tram by myself, and find it very hard -work. It tires me in my legs and shoulders every day.'—Ibid. -No. 69, p. 240, 1. 27.</p> - -<p class="i1">"Charles Hoyle: 'I was thirteen last January. I work in the -thin coal-pit. I find it very hard work. We work at night one -week, and in the day the other. It tires me very much sometimes. -It tires us most in the legs, especially when we have to -go on our hands and feet. I fill as well as hurry.'—Ibid. No. 78, -p. 242, 1. 41.</p></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[Pg 55]</a></span></p> - -<div class="bq"> - -<p class="i1">"Jonathan Clayton, thirteen and a half years old, Soap Work -Colliery, Sheffield: 'Hurrying is very hard work; when I got -home at night, I was knocked up.'—Ibid. No. 6, p. 227, 1. 48.</p> - -<p class="i1">"Andrew Roger, aged seventeen years: 'I work for my father, -who is an undertaker. I get, and have been getting two years. -I find it very hard work indeed; it tires me very much; I can -hardly get washed of a night till nine o'clock, I am so tired.'—Ibid. -No. 60, p. 237, 1. 49.</p> - -<p class="i1">["'This witness,' says the sub-commissioner, 'when examined -in the evening after his work was over, ached so much that he -could not stand upright.']—Ibid. s. 109; App. pt. i. p. 181.</p> - -<p class="i1">"Joseph Reynard, aged nineteen, Mr. Stancliffe's pit, Mirfield: -'I began hurrying when I was nine; I get now; I cannot hurry, -because one leg is shorter than the other. I have had my hip -bad since I was fifteen. I am very tired at nights. I worked in -a wet place to-day. I have worked in places as wet as I have -been in to-day.'</p> - -<p class="i1">["'I examined Joseph Reynard; he has several large abscesses -in his thigh, from hip-joint disease. The thigh-bone is dislocated -from the same cause; the leg is about three inches shorter; two -or three of the abscesses are now discharging. No appearance of -puberty from all the examinations I made. I should not think -him more than eleven or twelve years of age, except from his -teeth. I think him quite unfit to follow any occupation, much -less the one he now occupies.</p> - -<p class="ar"> -Signed, "'<span class="sc">U. Bradbury</span>, Surgeon.'] -</p> - -<p class="i1">"'This case,' says the sub-commissioner, 'is one reflecting the -deepest discredit on his employers.'—<i>Symons, Evidence</i>, No. 272; -App. pt. i. p. 298, 1. 29.</p> - -<p class="i1">"Elizabeth Eggley, sixteen years old: 'I find my work very -much too hard for me. I hurry alone. It tires me in my arms -and back most. I am sure it is very hard work, and tires -us very much; it is too hard work for girls to do. We sometimes -go to sleep before we get to bed.'—Ibid. No. 114, p. 252, -1. 44.</p> - -<p class="i1">"Ann Wilson, aged ten and a half years, Messrs. Smith's -colliery: 'Sometimes the work tires us when we have a good bit -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[Pg 56]</a></span> -to do; it tires we in my back. I hurry by myself. I push with -my head.'—Ibid. No. 229, p. 224, 1. 12.</p> - -<p class="i1">"Elizabeth Day, hurrier, Messrs. Hopwood's pit, Barnsley: -'It is very hard work for us all. It is harder work than we -ought to do, a deal. I have been lamed in my back, and strained -in my back.'—Ibid. No. 80, p. 244, 1. 33.</p> - -<p class="i1">"Mary Shaw: 'I am nineteen years old. I hurry in the pit -you were in to-day. I have ever been much tired with my work.'—Ibid. -No. 123, p. 249, 1. 38.</p> - -<p class="i1">"Ann Eggley, hurrier in Messrs. Thorpe's colliery: 'The -work is far too hard for me; the sweat runs off me all over sometimes. -I am very tired at night. Sometimes when we get home -at night, we have not power to wash us, and then we go to bed. -Sometimes we fall asleep in the chair. Father said last night it -was both a shame and a disgrace for girls to work as we do, but -there was nought else for us to do. The girls are always tired.'—Ibid. -No. 113, p. 252, 1. 17.</p> - -<p class="i1">"Elizabeth Coats: 'I hurry with my brother. It tires me a -great deal, and tires my back and arms.'—Ibid. No. 115, p. 252, -1. 59.</p> - -<p class="i1">"Elizabeth Ibbitson, at Mr. Harrison's pit, Gomersel: 'I don't -like being at pit; I push the corf with my head, and it hurts me, -and is sore.'—Ibid. No. 266, p. 292, 1. 17.</p> - -<p class="i1">"Margaret Gomley, Lindley Moor, aged nine: 'Am very tired.'—<i>Scriven, -Evidence</i>, No. 9; App. pt. ii. p. 103, 1. 34.</p> - -<p class="i1">"James Mitchell, aged twelve, Messrs. Holt and Hebblewaite's: -'I am very tired when I get home; it is enough to tire a horse; -and stooping so much makes it bad.'—Ibid. No. 2, p. 101, 1. 32.</p> - -<p class="i1">"William Whittaker, aged sixteen, Mr. Rawson's colliery: 'I -am always very tired when I go home.'—Ibid. No. 13, p. 104, 1. 55.</p> - -<p class="i1">"George Wilkinson, aged thirteen, Low Moor: 'Are you tired -now? Nay. Were you tired then? Yea. What makes the -difference? I can hurry a deal better now.'—<i>W. R. Wood, Esq., -Evidence</i>, No. 18, App. pt. ii. p. <i>h</i> 11, 1. 30.</p> - -<p class="i1">"John Stevenson, aged fourteen, Low Moor: 'Has worked in -a coal-pit eight years; went in at six years old; used to rue to -go in; does not rue now; it was very hard when he went in, and -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[Pg 57]</a></span> -"I were nobbud a right little one." Was not strong enough -when he first went; had better have been a little bigger; used -to be very tired; did not when he first went. I waur ill tired.'—Ibid. -No. 15, p. <i>h</i> 10, 1. 39.</p> - -<p class="i1">"Jabez Scott, aged fifteen, Bowling Iron Works: 'Work is -very hard; sleeps well sometimes; sometimes is very ill tired and -cannot sleep so well.'—Ibid. No. 38, p. <i>h</i> 10, 1. 29.</p> - -<p class="i1">"William Sharpe, Esq., F. R. S., surgeon, Bradford, states: -'That he has for twenty years professionally attended at the Low -Moor Iron Works; that there are occasionally cases of deformity, -and also bad cases of scrofula, apparently induced by the boys -being too early sent into the pits, by their working beyond their -strength, by their constant stooping, and by occasionally working -in water.'"—Ibid. No. 60, p. <i>h</i> 27, 1. 45.</p></div> - -<p class="i1">The statements of the children, as will be seen, are -confirmed by the evidence of the adult work-people, in -which we also find some further developments:—</p> - -<div class="bq"> - -<p class="i1">"William Fletcher, aged thirty-three, collier, West Hallam: -'Considers the collier's life a very hard one both for man and -boy, the latter full as hard as the former.'—<i>Report</i>, No. 37, p. -279, 1. 17.</p> - -<p class="i1">"John Beasley, collier, aged forty-nine, Shipley: 'He has -known instances where the children have been so overcome with -the work, as to cause them to go off in a decline; he has seen -those who could not get home without their father's assistance, -and have fallen asleep before they could be got to bed; has known -children of six years old sent to the pit, but thinks there are -none at Shipley under seven or eight; it is his opinion a boy is -too weak to stand the hours, even to drive between, until he is -eight or nine years old; the boys go down at six in the morning, -and has known them kept down until nine or ten, until they are -almost ready to exhaust; the children and young persons work -the same hours as the men; the children are obliged to work in -the night if the wagon-road is out of repair, or the water coming -on them; it happens sometimes two or three times in the week; -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[Pg 58]</a></span> -they then go down at six <span class="sc">P.M.</span> to six -<span class="sc">A.M.</span>, and have from ten -minutes to half an hour allowed for supper, according to the -work they have to do; they mostly ask the children who -have been at work the previous day to go down with them, -but seldom have to oblige them; when he was a boy, he has -worked for thirty-six hours running many a time, and many -more besides himself have done so.'—Ibid. No. 40, p. 274, 1. 23.</p> - -<p class="i1">"William Wardle, aged forty, Eastwood: 'There is no doubt -colliers are much harder worked than labourers; indeed, it is the -hardest work under heaven.'—Ibid. No. 84, p. 287, 1. 51.</p> - -<p class="i1">"Samuel Richards, aged forty, Awsworth: 'There are Sunday-schools -when they will go; but when boys have been beaten, -knocked about, and covered with sludge all the week, they want -to be in bed to rest all day on Sunday.'—Ibid. No. 166, p. 307, -1. 58.</p> - -<p class="i1">"William Sellers, operative, aged twenty-two, Butterley Company: -'When he first worked in the pit, he has been so tired -that he slept as he walked.'—Ibid. No. 222, p. 319, 1. 35.</p> - -<p class="i1">"William Knighton, aged twenty-four, Denby: 'He remembers -"mony" a time he has dropped asleep with the meat in his -mouth through fatigue; it is those butties—they are the very -devil; they impose upon them in one way, then in another.'—Ibid. -No. 314, p. 334, 1. 42.</p> - -<p class="i1">"—— ——, engine-man, Babbington: 'Has, when working -whole days, often seen the children lie down on the pit-bank and -go to sleep, they were so tired.'—Ibid. No. 137, p. 300, 1. 10.</p> - -<p class="i1">"John Attenborough, schoolmaster, Greasley: 'Has observed -that the collier children are more tired and dull than the others, -but equally anxious to learn.'—Ibid. No. 153, p. 304, 1. 122.</p> - -<p class="i1">"Ann Birkin: 'Is mother to Thomas and Jacob, who work in -Messrs. Fenton's pits; they have been so tired after a whole day's -work, that she has at times had to wash them and lift them into -bed.'—Ibid. No. 81, p. 285, 1. 59.</p> - -<p class="i1">"Hannah Neale, Butterley Park: 'They come home so tired -that they become stiff, and can hardly get to bed; Constantine, -the one ten years old, formerly worked in the same pit as his -brothers, but about a half a year since his toe was cut off by the -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[Pg 59]</a></span> -bind falling; notwithstanding this, the loader made him work -until the end of the day, although in the greatest pain. He was -out of work more than four months owing to this accident.'—Ibid. -No. 237, p. 320, 1. 51.</p> - -<p class="i1">"Ellen Wagstaff, Watnall: 'Has five children, three at Trough -lane and two at Willow lane, Greasley; one at Trough lane is -eighteen, one fourteen, one thirteen years of age; and those at -Willow lane are sixteen and nineteen; they are variously employed; -the youngest was not seven years old when he first went -to the pits. The whole have worked since they were seven or -seven and a half; they have worked from six to eight; from six -to two for half days, no meal-time in half days; she has known -them when at full work so tired when they first worked, -that you could not hear them speak, and they fell asleep before -they could eat their suppers; it has grieved her to the heart to -see them.'—Ibid. No. 104, p. 292, 1. 18.</p> - -<p class="i1">"Ann Wilson, Underwood: 'Is stepmother to Matthew Wilson -and mother to Richard Clarke. Has heard what they have said, -and believes it to be true; has known them when they work -whole days they have come home so tired and dirty, that they -could scarcely be prevented lying down on the ashes by the fireside, -and could not take their clothes off; has had to do it for -them, and take them to the brook and wash them, and has sat up -most of the night to get their clothes dry. The next morning -they have gone to work like bears to the stake.'—Ibid. No. 112, -p. 294, 1. 5.</p> - -<p class="i1">"Hannah Brixton, Babbington: 'The butties slave them past -any thing. Has frequently had them drop asleep as soon as they -have got in the house, and complain of their legs and arms aching -very bad.'—Ibid. No. 149, p. 302, 1. 44.</p> - -<p class="i1">"Michael Wilkins: 'Never has a mind for his victuals; never -feels himself hungry.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"John Charlton: 'Thinks the stythe makes him bad so that -he cannot eat his bait, and often brings it all home with him -again, or eats very little of it.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"Michael Richardson: 'He never has much appetite; and the -dust often blacks his victuals. Is always dry and thirsty.'</p></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[Pg 60]</a></span></p> - -<div class="bq"> - -<p class="i1">"William Beaney: 'Has thrown up his victuals often when he -came home; thinks the bad air made him do this.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"John Thompson: 'Often throws up his food.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"Thomas Newton: 'Threw up his victuals last night when he -came home. Never does so down in the pit, but often does when -he comes home.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"Moses Clerk: 'Throws up his victuals nearly every day at -home and down in the pit.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"Thomas Martin: 'Many times feels sick, and feels headache, -and throws up his food. Was well before he went down in the -pit.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"Thomas Fawcett: 'Many a night falls sick; and he many -times throws up his meat when he is in bed. Sometimes feels -bad and sick in the morning.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"George Alder: 'Has been unwell of late with the hard work. -Has felt very sick and weak all this last week.' (Looks very pale -and unwell.)</p> - -<p class="i1">"John Charlton: 'Often obliged to give over. Has been off -five days in the last month. Each of these days was down in the -pit and obliged to come up again.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"John Laverick and others: 'Many times they fell sick down -in the pit. Sometimes they have the heart-burn; sometimes they -force up their meat again. Some boys are off a week from being -sick; occasionally they feel pains.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"Six trappers: 'Sometimes they feel sick upon going to work -in the morning. Sometimes bring up their breakfasts from their -stomachs again. Different boys at different times do this.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"George Short: 'It is bad air where he is, and makes him -bad; makes small spots come out upon him, (small pimples,) -which he thinks is from the air, and he takes physic to stop -them. His head works very often, and he feels sickish sometimes.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"Nichol Hudderson: 'The pit makes him sick. Has been -very bad in his health ever since he went down in the pit. Was -very healthy before. The heat makes him sick. The sulphur -rising up the shaft as he goes down makes his head work. -Often so sick that he cannot eat when he gets up, at least he -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[Pg 61]</a></span> -cannot eat very much. About a half a year since, a boy named -John Huggins was very sick down in the pit, and wanted to come -up, but the keeper would not let him ride, (come up,) and he -died of fever one week afterward.'</p> - -<p class="i1">["The father of this lad and his brother fully corroborate this -statement, and the father says the doctor told him that if he (the -boy) had not been kept in the pit, he might have been, perhaps, -saved. This boy never had any thing the matter with him before -he went down into the pit."—<i>Leifchild, Evidences</i>, Nos. 156, 169, -270, 83, 110, 142, 143, 374, 194, 364, 135, 100, 101; App. pt. i. -p. 582 <i>et seq.</i> See also the statement of witnesses, Nos. 315, -327, 351, 359, 360, 361, 362, 363, 365, 377, 381, 382, 384, 403, -434, 454, 455, 457, 464, 465, 466.]</p></div> - -<p class="i1">Similar statements are made by all classes of witnesses -in some other districts. Thus, in Shropshire:—</p> - -<div class="bq"> - -<p class="i1">"A surgeon who did not wish his name to be published: 'They -are subject to hypertrophy of the heart, no doubt laying the -foundation of such disease at the early age of from eight to thirteen -years.'—<i>Mitchell, Evidence</i>, No. 45; App. pt. i. p. 81, 1. 16.</p> - -<p class="i1">"Mr. Michael Thomas Sadler, surgeon, Barnsley: 'I have -found diseases of the heart in adult colliers, which it struck me -arose from violent exertion. I know of no trade about here -where the work is harder.'—<i>Symons, Evidence</i>, No. 139; App. -pt. i. p. 261, 1. 36.</p> - -<p class="i1">"Mr. Pearson, surgeon to the dispensary, Wigan: 'They are -very subject to diseases of the heart.'—<i>Kennedy, Report</i>, 1. 304; -App. pt. ii. p. 189.</p> - -<p class="i1">"Dr. William Thompson, Edinburgh: 'Workers in coal-mines -are exceedingly liable to suffer from irregular action, and ultimately -organic diseases of the heart.'—<i>Franks, Evidence</i>, App. -pt. i. p. 409.</p> - -<p class="i1">"Scott Alison, M. D., East Lothian: 'I found diseases of the -heart very common among colliers at all ages, from boyhood up -to old age. The most common of them were inflammation of -that organ, and of its covering, the pericardium, simple enlargement -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[Pg 62]</a></span> -or hypertrophy, contraction of the auriculo-ventricular -communications, and of the commencement of the aorta. These -symptoms were well marked, attended for the most part with -increase of the heart's action, the force of its contraction being -sensibly augmented, and, in many cases, especially those of hypertrophy, -much and preternaturally extended over the chest.'—Ibid. -p. 417.</p> - -<p class="i1">"Mr. Thomas Batten, surgeon, Coleford: 'A boy about thirteen -years of age, in the Parkend Pits, died of <i>hæmorrhagia -purpurea</i>, (a suffusion of blood under the cuticle,) brought on by -too much exertion of the muscles and whole frame.'—<i>Waring, -Evidence</i>, No. 36; App. pt. ii. p. 24, 1. 21.</p></div> - -<p class="i1">To this list of diseases arising from great muscular -exertion, must be added rupture:—</p> - -<div class="bq"> - -<p class="i1">"Dr. Farell, Sheffield: 'Many of them are ruptured; nor is -this by any means uncommon among lads—arising, in all probability, -from over-exertion.'—<i>Symons, Evidence</i>, No. 47, App. pt. -i. p. 286, 1. 2.</p> - -<p class="i1">"Mr. Pearson, surgeon to the dispensary, Wigan: 'Colliers -are often ruptured, and they often come to me for advice.'—<i>Kennedy, -Report</i>, 1. 304; App. pt. ii. p. 189.</p> - -<p class="i1">"Andrew Grey: 'Severe ruptures occasioned by lifting coal. -Many are ruptured on both sides. I am, and suffer severely, and -a vast number of men here are also.'—<i>Franks, Evidence</i>, No. -147; App. pt. i. p. 463, 1. 61.</p></div> - -<p class="i1">But employment in the coal-mines produces another -series of diseases incomparably more painful and -fatal, partly referable to excessive muscular exertion, -and partly to the state of the place of work—that is, -to the foul air from imperfect ventilation, and the wetness -from inefficient drainage. Of the diseases of the -lungs produced by employment in the mines, asthma -is the most frequent.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[Pg 63]</a></span></p> - -<div class="bq"> - -<p class="i1">"Mr. William Hartell Baylis: 'The working of the mines brings -on asthma.'—<i>Mitchell, Evidence</i>, No. 7; App. pt. i. p. 65, 1. 31.</p> - -<p class="i1">"A surgeon who does not wish his name to be published: -'Most colliers, at the age of thirty, become asthmatic. There -are few attain that age without having the respiratory apparatus -disordered.'—Ibid. No. 45, p. 81, 1. 15.</p> - -<p class="i1">"Mr. George Marcy, clerk of the Wellington Union: 'Many -applications are made from miners for relief on account of sickness, -and chiefly from asthmatic complaints, when arrived at an -advanced age. At forty, perhaps, the generality suffer much -from asthma. Those who have applied have been first to the -medical officer, who has confirmed what they said.'—Ibid. No. 46, -p. 81, 1. 44.</p> - -<p class="i1">"'I met with very few colliers above forty years of age, who, -if they had not a confirmed asthmatic disease, were not suffering -from difficult breathing.'—<i>Fellows, Report</i>, s. 57; App. pt. ii. p. -256.</p> - -<p class="i1">"Phœbe Gilbert, Watnall, Messrs. Barber and Walker: 'She -thinks they are much subject to asthma. Her first husband, who -died aged 57, was unable to work for seven years on that account.'—<i>Fellows, -Evidence</i>, No. 105; App. pt. ii. p. 256.</p> - -<p class="i1">"William Wardle, collier, forty years of age, Eastwood: 'There -are some who are asthmatical, and many go double.'—Ibid. No. -84, p. 287, 1. 40.</p> - -<p class="i1">"Mr. Henry Hemmingway, surgeon, Dewsbury: 'When children -are working where carbonic acid gas prevails, they are rendered -more liable to affections of the brain and lungs. This acid prevents -the blood from its proper decarbonization as it passes from -the heart to the lungs. It does not get properly quit of the -carbon.'—<i>Symons, Evidence</i>, No. 221; App. pt. i. p. 282, 1. 38.</p> - -<p class="i1">"Mr. Uriah Bradbury, surgeon, Mirfield: 'They suffer from -asthma.'—Ibid. No. 199, p. 278, 1. 58.</p> - -<p class="i1">"Mr. J. B. Greenwood, surgeon, Cleckheaton: 'The cases -which have come before me professionally have been chiefly -affections of the chest and asthma, owing to the damp underfoot, -and also to the dust which arises from the working of the coal.'—Ibid. -No. 200, p. 279, 1. 8.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[Pg 64]</a></span></p> - -<p class="i1">"J. Ibetson, collier, aged fifty-three, Birkenshaw: 'I have suffered -from asthma, and am regularly knocked up. A collier -cannot stand the work regularly. He must stop now and then, -or he will be mashed up before any time.'—Ibid. No. 267, p. 292, -1. 42.</p> - -<p class="i1">"Joseph Barker, collier, aged forty-three, Windybank Pit: 'I -have a wife and two children; one of them is twenty-two years -old; he is mashed up, (that is, he is asthmatical,) he has been as -good a worker as ever worked in a skin.'—<i>Scriven, Evidence</i>, No. -14; App. pt. ii. p. 104, 1. 60.</p> - -<p class="i1">"Mr. George Canney, surgeon, Bishop Aukland: 'Do the -children suffer from early employment in the pits?' Yes, seven -and eight is a very early age, and the constitution must suffer in -consequence. It is injurious to be kept in one position so long, -and in the dark. They go to bed when they come home, and -enjoy very little air. I think there is more than the usual -proportion of pulmonary complaints.'—<i>Mitchell, Evidence</i>, No. 97; -App. pt. i. p. 154, 1. 2.</p> - -<p class="i1">"Mr. Headlam, physician, Newcastle: 'Diseases of respiration -are more common among pit-men than among others, distinctly -referable to the air in which they work. The air contains -a great proportion of carbonic gas, and carburetted hydrogen. -These diseases of the respiratory organs arise from the breathing -of these gases, principally of the carbonic acid gas.—<i>Leifchild, -Evidence</i>, No. 499; App. pt. i. p. 67, 1. 11.</p> - -<p class="i1">"Mr. Heath, of Newcastle, surgeon: 'More than usually liable -to asthma; mostly between thirty and forty years of age. -A person always working in the broken would be more liable to -asthma. Asthma is of very slow growth, and it is difficult to -say when it begins. Custom and habit will not diminish the evil -effects, but will diminish the sensibility to these evils.'—Ibid. -No. 497, p. 665, 1. 10-14.</p> - -<p class="i1">"Matthew Blackburn, driver, fifteen years of age, Heaton Colliery: -'Has felt shortness of breath. Helps up sometimes, but -is bound to drive. Cannot help up sometimes for shortness of -breath. His legs often work, (ache;) his shoulders work sometimes. -Working in a wet place.'—Ibid. No. 27, p. 573, 1. 34.</p></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[Pg 65]</a></span></p> - -<div class="bq"> - -<p class="i1">"Dr. S. Scott Alison, East Lothian: 'Between the twentieth -and thirtieth year the colliers decline in bodily vigour, and -become more and more spare; the difficulty of breathing progresses, -and they find themselves very desirous of some remission -from their labour. This period is fruitful in acute diseases, such -as fever, inflammation of the lungs, pleura, and many other ailments, -the product of over-exertion, exposure to cold and wet, -violence, insufficient clothing, intemperance, and foul air. For -the first few years chronic bronchitis is usually found alone, and -unaccompanied by disease of the body or lungs. The patient -suffers more or less difficulty of breathing, which is affected by -changes of the weather, and by variations in the weight of the -atmosphere. He coughs frequently, and the expectoration is -composed, for the most part, of white frothy and yellowish -mucous fluid, occasionally containing blackish particles of carbon, -the result of the combustion of the lamp, and also of minute -coal-dust. At first, and indeed for several years, the patient, for -the most part, does not suffer much in his general health, eating -heartily, and retaining his muscular strength in consequence. -The disease is rarely, if ever, entirely cured; and if the collier -be not carried off by some other lesion in the mean time, this -disease ultimately deprives him of life by a slow and lingering -process. The difficulty of breathing becomes more or less permanent, -the expectoration becomes very abundant, effusions of -water take place in the chest, the feet swell, and the urine is -secreted in small quantity; the general health gradually breaks -up, and the patient, after reaching premature old age, slips into -the grave at a comparatively early period, with perfect willingness -on his part, and no surprise on that of his family and -friends.'—<i>Franks, Evidence</i>, App. pt. i. p. 412, 415, Appendix A.</p> - -<p class="i1">"John Duncan, aged fifty-nine, hewer, Pencaitland: 'Mining -has caused my breath to be affected, and I am, like many other -colliers, obliged to hang upon my children for existence. The -want of proper ventilation in the pits is the chief cause. No part -requires more looking to than East Lothian; the men die off like -rotten sheep.'—Ibid. No. 150, p. 464, 1. 28.</p> - -<p class="i1">"George Hogg, thirty-two years of age, coal-hewer, Pencaitland: -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[Pg 66]</a></span> -'Unable to labour much now, as am fashed with bad -breath; the air below is very bad; until lately no ventilation -existed.'—Ibid. No. 153, p. 406, 1. 46. See also Witnesses, Nos. -4, 36, 53, 131, 152, 155, 175, 275, 277, &c.: 'The confined air and -dust in which they work is apt to render them asthmatic, as well -as to unfit them for labour at an earlier period of life than is the -case in other employments.'—<i>Tancred, Report</i>, s. 99, App. pt. i. -p. 345.</p> - -<p class="i1">"Dr. Adams, Glasgow: 'Amongst colliers, bronchitis or asthma -is very prevalent among the older hands.'—<i>Tancred, Evidence</i>, -No. 9; App. pt. i. p. 361, 1. 44.</p> - -<p class="i1">"Mr. Peter Williams, surgeon, Holiwell, North Wales: 'The -chief diseases to which they are liable are those of the bronchiæ. -Miners and colliers, by the age of forty, generally become affected -by chronic bronchitis, and commonly before the age of sixty fall -martyrs to the disease. The workmen are, for the most part, -very healthy and hardy, until the symptoms of affections of the -bronchial tubes show themselves.'—<i>H. H. Jones, Evidence</i>, No. -95; App. pt. ii. p. 407, 1. 8.</p> - -<p class="i1">"Jeremiah Bradley, underground agent, Plaskynaston: 'The -men are apt to get a tightness of breath, and become unfit for the -pits, even before sixty.'—Ibid. No. 30, p. 383, 1. 8.</p> - -<p class="i1">"Amongst colliers in South Wales the diseases most prevalent -are the chronic diseases of the respiratory organs, especially -asthma and bronchitis.'—<i>Franks, Report</i>, s. 64; App. pt. ii. -p. 484.</p> - -<p class="i1">"David Davis, contractor, Gilvachvargoed colliery, Glamorganshire: -'I am of opinion that miners are sooner disabled and off -work than other mechanics, for they suffer from shortness of -breath long before they are off work. Shortness of breath may -be said to commence from forty to fifty years of age.'—<i>Franks, -Evidence</i>, No. 178; App. pt. ii. p. 533, 1. 32.</p> - -<p class="i1">"Richard Andrews, overseer, Llancyach, Glamorganshire: -'The miners about here are very subject to asthmatic complaints.'—Ibid. -No. 152; p. 529, 1. 7.</p> - -<p class="i1">"Mr. Frederick Evans, clerk and accountant for the Dowlais -Collieries, Monmouthshire: 'Asthma is a prevalent disease -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[Pg 67]</a></span> -among colliers.'—<i>R. W. Jones, Evidence</i>, No. 121; App. pt. ii. -p. 646, 1. 48.</p> - -<p class="i1">"Mr. David Mushet, Forest of Dean: 'The men generally become -asthmatic from fifty to fifty-five years of age.'—<i>Waring, Evidence</i>, -No. 37; App. pt. ii. p. 25, 1. 3.</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Asthmatic and other bronchial affections are common among -the older colliers and miners.'—<i>Waring, Report</i>, s. 72; App. -pt. ii. p. 6.</p> - -<p class="i1">"Mr. W. Brice, clerk, Coal Barton and Vobster Collieries, -North Somersetshire: 'The work requires the full vigour of a -man, and they are apt, at this place, to get asthmatical from the gas -and foul air.'—<i>Stewart, Evidence</i>, No. 7; App. pt. ii. p. 50, 1. 49.</p> - -<p class="i1">"James Beacham, coal-breaker, Writhlington, near Radstock: -'Many of the miners suffer from "tight breath."'—Ibid. No. 32; -p. 56, 1. 31."</p></div> - -<p class="i1">Of that disease which is peculiar to colliers, called -"black spittle," much evidence is given by many medical -witnesses and others:—</p> - -<div class="bq"> - -<p class="i1">"Mr. Cooper, surgeon, of Bilston, gives the following account -of this malady when it appears in its mildest form: 'Frequently -it occurs that colliers appear at the offices of medical men, complaining -of symptoms of general debility, which appear to arise -from inhalation of certain gases in the mines, (probably an excess -of carbonic.) These patients present a pallid appearance, are -affected with headache, (without febrile symptoms,) and constriction -of the chest; to which may be added dark bronchial expectoration -and deficient appetite. Gentle aperients, mild stomachics, -and rest from labour above ground, restore them in a -week or so, and they are perhaps visited at intervals with a -relapse, if the state of the atmosphere or the ill ventilation of the -mine favour the development of deleterious gas.'—<i>Mitchell, Evidence</i>, -No. 3; App. pt. i. p. 62, 1. 48."</p></div> - -<p class="i1">In other districts this disease assumes a much more -formidable character:—</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[Pg 68]</a></span></p> - -<div class="bq"> - -<p class="i1">"Dr. Thompson, of Edinburgh, states that, 'The workmen in -coal mines occasionally die of an affection of the lungs, accompanied -with the expectoration of a large quantity of matter of a -deep black colour, this kind of expectoration continuing long -after they have, from choice or illness, abandoned their subterranean -employment; and the lungs of such persons are found, on -examination after death, to be most deeply impregnated with -black matter. This black deposition may occur to a very considerable -extent in the lungs of workers in coal-mines, without -being accompanied with any black expectoration, or any other -phenomena of active disease, and may come to light only after -death has been occasioned by causes of a different nature, as by -external injuries.'—<i>Franks</i>, Appendix A, No. 1; App. pt. i. p. -409.</p> - -<p class="i1">"Dr. S. Scott Alison: 'Spurious melanosis, or "black spit" of -colliers, is a disease of pretty frequent occurrence among the -older colliers, and among those men who have been employed in -cutting and blasting stone dykes in the collieries. The symptoms -are emaciation of the whole body, constant shortness and quickness -of breath, occasional stitches in the sides, quick pulse, -usually upward of one hundred in the minute, hacking cough -day and night, attended by a copious expectoration, for the most -part perfectly black, and very much the same as thick blacking -in colour and consistence, but occasionally yellowish and mucous, -or white and frothy; respiration is cavernous in some parts, and -dull in others; a wheezing noise is heard in the bronchial passages, -from the presence of an inordinate quantity of fluid; the -muscles of respiration become very prominent, the neck is shortened, -the chest being drawn up, the nostrils are dilated, and the -countenance is of an anxious aspect. The strength gradually -wasting, the collier, who has hitherto continued at his employment, -finds that he is unable to work six days in the week, and -goes under ground perhaps only two or three days in that time; -in the course of time, he finds an occasional half-day's employment -as much as he can manage, and when only a few weeks' or -months' journey from the grave, ultimately takes a final leave of -his labour. This disease is never cured, and if the unhappy -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[Pg 69]</a></span> -victim of an unwholesome occupation is not hurried off by some -more acute disease, or by violence, it invariably ends in the -death of the sufferer. Several colliers have died of this disease -under my care.'—Ibid. Appendix A, No. 2; App. pt. i. p. 415, -416.</p> - -<p class="i1">"Dr. Makellar, Pencaitland, East Lothian: 'The most serious -and fatal disease which I have been called to treat, connected -with colliers, is a carbonaceous infiltration into the substance of -the lungs. It is a disease which has long been overlooked, on -account of the unwillingness which formerly existed among that -class of people to allow examination of the body after death; but -of late such a prejudice has in a great measure been removed. -From the nature of Pencaitland coal-works, the seams of coal -being thin when compared with other coal-pits, mining operations -are carried on with difficulty, and, in such a situation, there is -a deficiency in the supply of atmospheric gas, thereby causing -difficulty in breathing, and, consequently, the inhalation of the -carbon which the lungs in exhalation throw off, and also any -carbonaceous substance floating in this impure atmosphere. I -consider the pulmonary diseases of coal-miners to be excited -chiefly by two causes, viz. first, by running stone-mines with -the use of gunpowder; and, secondly, coal-mining in an atmosphere -charged with lamp-smoke and the carbon exhaled from -the lungs. All who are engaged at coal-pits here, are either employed -as coal or stone miners; and the peculiar disease to which -both parties are liable varies considerably according to the employment.'—Ibid. -Appendix A, No. 3, p. 422. See also witnesses -Nos. 7, 44, 112, 144, 146. For a full account of this disease, see -reports of Drs. Alison, Makellar, and Reid, in the Appendix to -the sub-commissioner's report for the East of Scotland."</p></div> - -<p class="i1">Dr. Makellar gives the following remarkable evidence -as to the efficacy of ventilation in obviating the production -of this disease:—</p> - -<div class="bq"> - -<p class="i1">"The only effectual remedy for this disease is a free admission -of pure air, and to be so applied as to remove the confined smoke, -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[Pg 70]</a></span> -both as to stone-mining and coal-mining, and also the introduction -of some other mode of lighting such pits than by oil. I know -many coal-pits where there is no <i>black-spit</i>, nor was it ever known, -and, on examination, I find that there is and ever has been in them -a free circulation of air. For example, the Penstone coal-works, -which join Pencaitland, has ever been free of this disease; but -many of the Penstone colliers, on coming to work at Pencaitland -pit, have been seized with, and died of, this disease. Penstone -has always good air, while it is quite the contrary at Pencaitland.'—Ibid. -Appendix A, No. 3; App. pt. i. p. 422."</p></div> - -<p class="i1">Other diseases, produced by employment in coal-mines, -less fatal, but scarcely less painful, are rheumatism -and inflammation of the joints.</p> - -<p class="i1">Mr. William Hartell Baylis states that working in -the cold and wet often brings on rheumatism. "More suffer -from this than from any other complaint."<a name="FNanchor_3_3" id="FNanchor_3_3"></a> -<a href="#Footnote_3_3" class="fnanchor">[3]</a> Asthma -and rheumatism, which are so prevalent in other districts, -are very rare in Warwickshire and Leicestershire.<a name="FNanchor_4_4" id="FNanchor_4_4"></a> -<a href="#Footnote_4_4" class="fnanchor">[4]</a> -But, in Derbyshire, "rheumatism is very -general. I believe you will scarcely meet a collier, -and ask him what he thinks of the weather, but he will -in reply say, 'Why, his back or shoulders have or have -not pained him as much as usual.'"<a name="FNanchor_5_5" id="FNanchor_5_5"></a> -<a href="#Footnote_5_5" class="fnanchor">[5]</a></p> - -<p class="i1">George Tweddell, surgeon, Houghton-le-Spring, South -Durham, says, in answer to the question—Are miners -much subject to rheumatism?—"Not particularly so. -Our mines are dry; but there is one mine which is wet, -where the men often complain of rheumatism."<a name="FNanchor_6_6" id="FNanchor_6_6"></a> -<a href="#Footnote_6_6" class="fnanchor">[6]</a></p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[Pg 71]</a></span></p> - -<p class="i1">Similar evidence is given by the medical and other -witnesses in all other districts. Wherever the mines -are not properly drained, and are, therefore, wet and -cold, the work-people are invariably afflicted with rheumatism, -and with painful diseases of the glands.</p> - -<p class="i1">The sub-commissioner for the Forest of Dean gives -the following account of a painful disease of the joints -common in that district:—</p> - -<div class="bq"> - -<p class="i1">"'The men employed in cutting down the coal are subject to -inflammation of the <i>bursæ</i>, both in the knees and elbows, from -the constant pressure and friction on these joints in their working -postures. When the seams are several feet thick, they begin by -kneeling and cutting away the exterior portion of the base. They -proceed undermining till they are obliged to lie down on their -sides, in order to work beneath the mass as far as the arm can -urge the pick, for the purpose of bringing down a good head of -coal. In this last posture the elbow forms a pivot, resting on the -ground, on which the arm of the workman oscillates as he plies -his sharp pick. It is easy to comprehend how this action, combined -with the pressure, should affect the delicate cellular membrane -of this joint, and bring on the disease indicated. The thin -seams of coal are necessarily altogether worked in a horizontal -posture.'—<i>Waring, Report</i>, s. 63-66; App. pt. ii. p. 5, 6.</p> - -<p class="i1">"Twenty boys at the Walker Colliery: 'The twenty witnesses, -when examined collectively, say, that the way is so very dirty, -and the pit so warm, that the lads often get tired very soon.'—<i>Leifchild, -Evidence</i>, No. 291; App. pt. i. p. 627, 1. 661.</p> - -<p class="i1">"Nineteen boys examined together, of various ages, of whom -the spokesman was William Holt, seventeen years old, putter: -'The bad air when they were whiles working in the broken, -makes them sick. Has felt weak like in his legs at those times. -Was weary like. Has gone on working, but very slowly. Many -a one has had to come home before having a fair start, from -bad air and hard work. Hours are too long. Would sooner -work less hours and get less money.'—Ibid. No. 300; p. 629, 1. 1.</p></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[Pg 72]</a></span></p> - -<div class="bq"> - -<p class="i1">"Twenty-three witnesses assembled state: 'That their work is -too hard for them, and they feel sore tired; that some of them -constantly throw up their meat from their stomachs; that their -heads often work, (ache;) the back sometimes; and the legs feel -weak.'—Ibid. No. 354; p. 639, 1. 18.</p> - -<p class="i1">"John Wilkinson, aged thirteen, Piercy Main Colliery: 'Was -in for a double shift about five weeks ago, and fell asleep about -one o'clock <span class="sc">P.M.</span>, as he was going to lift the limmers off to join -the rolleys together, and got himself lamed by the horse turning -about and jamming one of his fingers. Split his finger. Was -off a week from this accident. Sometimes feels sick down in the -pit; felt so once or twice last fortnight. Whiles his head works, -(aches,) and he has pains in his legs, as if they were weak. -Feels pains in his knees. Thinks the work is hard for foals, -more so than for others.'—Ibid. No. 60; p. 579, 1. 22.</p> - -<p class="i1">"John Middlemas: 'Sometimes, but very rarely, they work -double shift; that is, they go down at four o'clock <span class="sc">A.M.</span> and do not -come up until four o'clock <span class="sc">P.M.</span> in the day after that, thus stopping -down thirty-six hours, without coming up, sometimes; and sometimes -they come up for half an hour, and then go down again. -Another worked for twenty-four hours last week, and never came -up at all. Another has stopped down thirty-six hours, without -coming up at all, twice during the last year. When working this -double shift they go to bed directly they come home.'—Ibid. No. -98; p. 588, 1. 42.</p> - -<p class="i1">"Michael Turner, helper-up, aged fourteen and a half, Gosforth -Colliery: 'Mostly he puts up hill the full corves. Many -times the skin is rubbed off his back and off his feet. His head -works (aches) very often, almost every week. His legs work so -sometimes that he can hardly trail them. Is at hard work now, -shoving rolleys and hoisting the crane; the former is the hardest -work. His back works very often, so that he has sometimes -to sit down for half a minute or so.'—Ibid. No. 145; p. 598, -1. 58.</p> - -<p class="i1">"George Short, aged nearly sixteen: 'Hoists a crane. His -head works very often, and he feels sickish sometimes, and -drowsy sometimes, especially if he sits down. Has always been -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[Pg 73]</a></span> -drowsy since he went there. Twice he has worked three shifts -following, of twelve hours each shift; never came up at all during -the thirty-six hours; was sleepy, but had no time to sleep. Has -many times worked double shift of nineteen hours, and he does -this now nearly every pay Friday night. A vast of boys work in -this shift, ten or eleven, or sometimes more. The boys are very -tired and sleepy.'—Ibid. No. 191; p. 606, 1. 41.</p> - -<p class="i1">"John Maffin, sixteen years old, putter, Gosforth Colliery: -'Was strong before he went down pits, but is not so now, from -being overhard wrought, and among bad air.'—Ibid. No. 141; -p. 598, 1. 2.</p> - -<p class="i1">"Robert Hall, seventeen years old, half marrow, Felling Colliery: -'The work of putting makes his arms weak, and his legs -work all the day; makes his back work. Is putting to the dip -now in a heavy place. Each one takes his turn to use the -"soams," (the drawing-straps;) one pulls with them, and the -other shoves behind. Both are equally hard. If it is a very -heavy place there are helpers-up, but not so many as they want. -Has known one sore strained by putting.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"John Peel, aged thirteen: 'Is now off from this. Is healthy -in general, but is now and then off from this work.'—Ibid. No. -325; p. 634, 1. 11.</p> - -<p class="i1">"Michael Richardson, fifteen years old, putter, St. Lawrence -Main Colliery: 'About three quarters of a year since he wrought -double shift every other night; or, rather, he worked three times -in eleven days for thirty-six hours at a time, without coming up -the pit. About six months ago he worked three shifts following, -of twelve hours each shift, and never stopped work more than a -few minutes now and then, or came up the pit till he was done. -There was now and then some night-work to do, and the overman -asked him to stop, and he could not say no, or else he (the overman) -would have frowned on him, and stopped him, perhaps, of -some helpers-up. Thinks the hours for lads ought to be shortened, -and does not know whether it would not be better even if -their wages were less.'—Ibid. No. 270; p. 623, 1. 32.</p> - -<p class="i1">"James Glass, eighteen years old, putter, Walbottle: 'Puts a -tram by himself. Has no helper-up, and no assistance. Mostly -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[Pg 74]</a></span> -puts a full tram up. Is putting from a distance now. Mostly -the trams are put up by one person. Was off work the week -before last three days, by being sick. Was then putting in the -night shift, and had to go home and give over. Could not work. -His head works nearly every day. He is always hitting his head -against stone roofs. His arms work very often. Has to stoop -a good deal. The weight of his body lies upon his arms when he -is putting. The skin is rubbed off his back very often.'—Ibid. -No. 244; p. 619, 1. 27.</p> - -<p class="i1">"Mr. James Anderson, a Home Missionary, residing in Easington -Lane, Hetton-le-Hole, in reply to queries proposed, handed in -the following written evidence: 'The boys go too soon to work: -I have seen boys at work not six years of age, and though their -work is not hard, still they have long hours, so that when they -come home they are quite spent. I have often seen them lying -on the floor, fast asleep. Then they often fall asleep in the pit, -and have been killed. Not long ago a boy fell asleep, lay down -on the way, and the wagons killed him. Another boy was killed; -it was supposed he had fallen asleep when driving his wagon, -and fallen off, and was killed.'—Ibid. No. 446; p. 655, 1. 62."</p></div> - -<p class="i1">The children employed in the mines and collieries -are distinguished by a remarkable muscular development, -which, however, is unhealthy, as it is premature, -obtained at the expense of other parts of the body, and -of but short duration. The muscles of the arms and -the back become very large and full.</p> - -<p class="i1">With the great muscular development, there is commonly -a proportionate diminution of stature. All -classes of witnesses state that colliers, as a body—children, -young persons, and adults—are stunted in growth. -There are only two exceptions to this in Great Britain, -namely, Warwickshire and Leicestershire. It is to be -inferred from the statements of the sub-commissioner -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[Pg 75]</a></span> -for Ireland, that that country forms a third exception -for the United Kingdom. Of the uniformity of the -statements as to the small stature and the stunted -growth of the colliers in all other districts, the following -may be regarded as examples:—</p> - -<p class="i1">In Shropshire, the miners, as a body, are of small -stature; this is abundantly obvious even to a casual -observer, and there are many instances of men never -exceeding the size of boys.<a name="FNanchor_7_7" id="FNanchor_7_7"></a> -<a href="#Footnote_7_7" class="fnanchor">[7]</a> Andrew Blake, M. D., -states of the colliers in Derbyshire, that he has observed -that many of them are not so tall as their neighbours -in other employments; this, in a degree, he considers is -owing to their being worked so young.<a name="FNanchor_8_8" id="FNanchor_8_8"></a> -<a href="#Footnote_8_8" class="fnanchor">[8]</a> In the West -Riding of Yorkshire, also, there is in stature an "appreciable -difference in colliers' children, manifest at all -ages after they have been three years constantly in the -pits; there is little malformation, but, as Mr. Eliss, a -surgeon constantly attending them, admits, they are -somewhat stunted in growth and expanded in width."<a name="FNanchor_9_9" id="FNanchor_9_9"></a> -<a href="#Footnote_9_9" class="fnanchor">[9]</a></p> - -<div class="bq"> - -<p class="i1">"Mr. Henry Hemmingway, surgeon, Dewsbury: 'I am quite -sure that the rule is that the children in coal-pits are of a lower -stature than others.'—<i>Symons, Evidence</i>, No. 221; App. pt. i. p. -282, 1. 47.</p> - -<p class="i1">"Mr. Thomas Rayner, surgeon, Bristall: 'I account for the -stunted growth from the stooping position, which makes them -grow laterally, and prevents the cartilaginous substances from -expanding.'—Ibid. No. 268, p. 292, 1. 52.</p></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[Pg 76]</a></span></p> - -<div class="bq"> - -<p class="i1">"Henry Moorhouse, surgeon, Huddersfield: 'I may state, from -my own personal examination of many of them, that they are -much less in stature, in proportion to their ages, than those working -in mills.'—Ibid. No. 273, p. 293, 1. 49.</p> - -<p class="i1">"Mr. Jos. Ellison, Bristall: 'The employment of children decidedly -stunts their growth.'—Ibid. No. 249, p. 288, 1. 8."</p></div> - -<p class="i1">Mr. Symons, in Appendix to p. 212 of his Report, -has given in detail the names, ages, and measurement, -both in stature and in girth of breast, of a great number -of farm and of colliery children of both ages respectively. -By taking the first ten collier boys, and -the first ten farm boys, of ages between twelve and -fourteen, we find that the former measured in the aggregate -forty-four feet six inches in height, and two -hundred and seventy-four and a half inches around the -breast; while the farm boys measured forty-seven feet -in height, and two hundred and seventy-two inches -round the breast. By taking the ten first collier girls -and farm girls, respectively between the ages of fourteen -and seventeen, we find that the ten collier girls -measured forty-six feet four inches in height, and two -hundred and ninety-three and a half inches round the -breast; while the ten farm girls measured fifty feet -five inches in height, and two hundred and ninety-seven -inches round the breast; so that in the girls there is a -difference in the height of those employed on farms, -compared with those employed in collieries, of eight -and a half per cent. in favour of the former; while -between the colliery and farm boys of a somewhat -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[Pg 77]</a></span> -younger age, and before any long period had been spent -in the collieries, the difference appears to be five and a -half per cent. in favour of the farm children.</p> - -<p class="i1">In like manner, of sixty children employed as hurriers -in the neighbourhood of Halifax, at the average -ages of ten years and nine months, Mr. Scriven states -that the average measurement in height was three feet -eleven inches and three-tenths, and, in circumference, -three feet two inches; while of fifty-one children of the -same age employed on farms, the measurement in height -was four feet three inches, the circumference being the -same in both, namely, two feet three inches. In like -manner, of fifty young persons of the average of fourteen -years and eleven months, the measurement in -height was four feet five inches, and in circumference -two feet three inches; while of forty-nine young -persons employed on farms, of the average of fifteen -years and six months, the measurement in height was -four feet ten inches and eight-elevenths, and, in circumference, -two feet three inches, being a difference of -nearly six inches in height in favour of the agricultural -labourers.</p> - -<p class="i1">In the district of Bradford and Leeds, there is "in -stature an appreciable difference, from about the age -at which children begin to work, between children employed -in mines and children of the same age and -station in the neighbourhood not so employed; and this -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[Pg 78]</a></span> -shortness of stature is generally, though to a less degree, -visible in the adult."<a name="FNanchor_10_10" id="FNanchor_10_10"></a> -<a href="#Footnote_10_10" class="fnanchor">[10]</a></p> - -<p class="i1">In Lancashire, the sub-commissioner reports that—"It -appeared to him that the average of the colliers -are considerably shorter in stature than the agricultural -labourers."<a name="FNanchor_11_11" id="FNanchor_11_11"></a> -<a href="#Footnote_11_11" class="fnanchor">[11]</a> The evidence collected by the other -gentlemen in this district is to the same effect. Mr. -Pearson, surgeon to the dispensary, Wigan, states, -with regard to the physical condition of the children and -young persons employed in coal-mining, as compared -with that of children in other employments, that they -are smaller and have a stunted appearance, which he -attributes to their being employed too early in life. -<a name="FNanchor_12_12" id="FNanchor_12_12"></a> -<a href="#Footnote_12_12" class="fnanchor">[12]</a> -And Mr. Richard Ashton, relieving-officer of the Blackburn -district, describes the colliers as "a low race, and -their appearance is rather decrepit."<a name="FNanchor_13_13" id="FNanchor_13_13"></a> -<a href="#Footnote_13_13" class="fnanchor">[13]</a> Though some -remarkable exceptions have been seen in the counties -of Warwick and Leicester, the colliers, as a race of -men, in some districts, and in Durham among the rest, -are not of large stature.<a name="FNanchor_14_14" id="FNanchor_14_14"></a> -<a href="#Footnote_14_14" class="fnanchor">[14]</a> George Canney, medical -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[Pg 79]</a></span> -practitioner, Bishop Aukland, states, "that they are -less in weight and bulk than the generality of men." -<a name="FNanchor_15_15" id="FNanchor_15_15"></a> -<a href="#Footnote_15_15" class="fnanchor">[15]</a></p> - -<p class="i1">Of the collier boys of Durham and Northumberland, -the sub-commissioner reports that an inspection of -more than a thousand of these boys convinced him that -"as a class, (with many individual exceptions,) their -stature must be considered as diminutive."<a name="FNanchor_16_16" id="FNanchor_16_16"></a> -<a href="#Footnote_16_16" class="fnanchor">[16]</a> Mr. -Nicholas Wood, viewer of Killingworth, &c., states -"that there is a very general diminution of stature -among pit-men."<a name="FNanchor_17_17" id="FNanchor_17_17"></a> -<a href="#Footnote_17_17" class="fnanchor">[17]</a> Mr. Heath, of Newcastle, surgeon -to Killingworth, Gosforth, and Coxlodge collieries, -"thinks the confinement of children for twelve hours -in a pit is not consistent with ordinary health; the -stature is rather diminished, and there is an absence of -colour; they are shortened in stature."<a name="FNanchor_18_18" id="FNanchor_18_18"></a> -<a href="#Footnote_18_18" class="fnanchor">[18]</a> And J. -Brown, M. D., Sunderland, states "that they are -generally stunted in stature, thin and swarthy."<a name="FNanchor_19_19" id="FNanchor_19_19"></a> -<a href="#Footnote_19_19" class="fnanchor">[19]</a></p> - -<p class="i1">Of the collier population in Cumberland, it is stated -that "they are in appearance quite as stunted in -growth, and present much the same physical phenomena -as those of Yorkshire, comparing, of course, those following -similar branches of the work."<a name="FNanchor_20_20" id="FNanchor_20_20"></a> -<a href="#Footnote_20_20" class="fnanchor">[20]</a> Thomas<span class="pagenum"> -<a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[Pg 80]</a></span> -Mitchell, surgeon, Whitehaven, says, "their stature -is partly decreased."<a name="FNanchor_21_21" id="FNanchor_21_21"></a> -<a href="#Footnote_21_21" class="fnanchor">[21]</a></p> - -<p class="i1">Of the deteriorated physical condition of the collier -population in the East of Scotland, as shown, among -other indications, by diminished stature, Dr. S. Scott -Alison states that "many of the infants in a collier -community are thin, skinny, and wasted, and indicate, -by their contracted features and sickly, dirty-white or -faint-yellowish aspect, their early participation in a deteriorated -physical condition. From the age of infancy -up to the seventh or eighth year, much sickliness and -general imperfection of physical development is observable. -The physical condition of the boys and girls -engaged in the collieries is much inferior to that of -children of the same age engaged in farming operations, -in most other trades, or who remain at home unemployed. -The children are, upon the whole, prejudicially -affected to a material extent in their growth and development. -Many of them are short for their years."<a name="FNanchor_22_22" id="FNanchor_22_22"></a> -<a href="#Footnote_22_22" class="fnanchor">[22]</a></p> - -<p class="i1">In South Wales, "the testimony of medical gentlemen, -and of managers and overseers of various works, -in which large numbers of children as well as adults -are employed, proves that the physical health and -strength of children and young persons is deteriorated -by their employment at the early ages and in the works -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[Pg 81]</a></span> -before enumerated."<a name="FNanchor_23_23" id="FNanchor_23_23"></a> -<a href="#Footnote_23_23" class="fnanchor">[23]</a> Mr. Jonathan Isaacs, agent of -the Top Hill colliery:—"I have noticed that the children -of miners, who are sent to work, do not grow as -they ought to do; they get pale in their looks, are -weak in their limbs, and any one can distinguish a collier's -child from the children of other working people."<a name="FNanchor_24_24" -id="FNanchor_24_24"></a><a href="#Footnote_24_24" class="fnanchor">[24]</a> -Mr. P. Kirkhouse, oversman to the Cyfarthfa collieries -and ironstone mines, on this point observes—"The -infantine ages at which children are employed -cranks (stunts) their growth, and injures their constitution."<a name="FNanchor_25_25" -id="FNanchor_25_25"></a><a href="#Footnote_25_25" class="fnanchor">[25]</a> -John Russell, surgeon to the Dowlais Iron -Works:—"In stature, I believe a difference to exist in -the male youth from twelve to sixteen, employed in the -mines and collieries, compared with those engaged in -other works, the former being somewhat stunted; and -this difference (under some form or other) seems still -perceptible in the adult miners and colliers."<a name="FNanchor_26_26" -id="FNanchor_26_26"></a><a href="#Footnote_26_26" class="fnanchor">[26]</a></p> - -<p class="i1">A crippled gait, often connected with positive deformity, -is one of the frequent results of slaving in the -mines.</p> - -<p class="i1">In Derbyshire, the children who have worked in the -collieries from a very early age are stated to be bow-legged.<a name="FNanchor_27_27" -id="FNanchor_27_27"></a><a href="#Footnote_27_27" class="fnanchor">[27]</a></p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[Pg 82]</a></span></p> - -<p class="i1">In the West Riding of Yorkshire, "after they are -turned forty-five or fifty, they walk home from their -work almost like cripples; stiffly stalking along, often -leaning on sticks, bearing the visible evidences in their -frame and gait of overstrained muscles and over-taxed -strength. Where the lowness of the gates induces a -very bent posture, I have observed an inward curvature -of the spine; and chicken-breasted children are very -common among those who work in low, thin coal-mines."<a name="FNanchor_28_28" -id="FNanchor_28_28"></a><a href="#Footnote_28_28" class="fnanchor">[28]</a> -Mr. Uriah Bradbury, surgeon, Mirfield:—"Their -knees never stand straight, like other people's."<a name="FNanchor_29_29" -id="FNanchor_29_29"></a><a href="#Footnote_29_29" class="fnanchor">[29]</a> -Mr. Henry Hemmingway, surgeon, Dewsbury:—"May -be distinguished among crowds of -people, by the bending of the spinal column."<a name="FNanchor_30_30" -id="FNanchor_30_30"></a><a href="#Footnote_30_30" class="fnanchor">[30]</a> Mr. -William Sharp, surgeon, Bradford:—"There are -occasionally cases of deformity."<a name="FNanchor_31_31" id="FNanchor_31_31"></a> -<a href="#Footnote_31_31" class="fnanchor">[31]</a></p> - -<p class="i1">In Lancashire district, John Bagley, about thirty-nine -years of age, collier, Mrs. Lancaster's, Patricroft, -states, that "the women drawing in the pits are generally -crooked. Can tell any woman who has been in -the pits. They are rarely, if ever, so straight as other -women who stop above ground."<a name="FNanchor_32_32" id="FNanchor_32_32"></a> -<a href="#Footnote_32_32" class="fnanchor">[32]</a> Mr. William Gaulter, -surgeon, of Over Darwen, says—"Has practised as a -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[Pg 83]</a></span> -surgeon twenty-four years in this neighbourhood. -Those who work in collieries at an early age, when -they arrive at maturity are not generally so robust as -those who work elsewhere. They are frequently -crooked, (not distorted,) bow-legged, and stooping."<a name="FNanchor_33_33" -id="FNanchor_33_33"></a><a href="#Footnote_33_33" class="fnanchor">[33]</a> -Betty Duxberry, whose children work in the pits, asserts -that "colliers are all crooked and short-legged, -not like other men who work above ground; but they -were always colliers, and always will be. This young -boy turns his feet out and his knees together; drawing -puts them out of shape."<a name="FNanchor_34_34" id="FNanchor_34_34"></a> -<a href="#Footnote_34_34" class="fnanchor">[34]</a></p> - -<p class="i1">Evidence collected in Durham and Northumberland, -shows that the underground labour produces similar -effects in that district.</p> - -<p class="i1">Mr. Nicholas Wood, viewer of Killingworth, Hetton, -and other collieries:—"The children are perhaps a -little ill-formed, and the majority of them pale, and not -robust. Men working in low seams are bent double -and bow-legged very often."<a name="FNanchor_35_35" id="FNanchor_35_35"></a> -<a href="#Footnote_35_35" class="fnanchor">[35]</a> J. Brown, M. D. and -J. P., Sunderland:—"They labour more frequently -than other classes of the community under deformity -of the lower limbs, especially that variety of it described -as being 'in-kneed.' This I should ascribe to -yielding of the ligaments, owing to long standing in the -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[Pg 84]</a></span> -mines in a constrained and awkward position."<a name="FNanchor_36_36" -id="FNanchor_36_36"></a><a href="#Footnote_36_36" class="fnanchor">[36]</a> Mr. -Thomas Greenshaw, surgeon, Walker colliery:—"Their -persons are apt to be somewhat curved and cramped. -As they advance in life, their knees and back frequently -exhibit a curved appearance, from constant -bending at their work."<a name="FNanchor_37_37" id="FNanchor_37_37"></a> -<a href="#Footnote_37_37" class="fnanchor">[37]</a> Mr. W. Morrison, surgeon -of Pelaw House, Chester le street, Countess of Durham's -collieries:—"The 'outward man' distinguishes a -pit-man from any other operative. His stature is -diminished, his figure disproportionate and misshapen; -his legs being much bowed; his chest protruding, (the -thoracic region being unequally developed.) His countenance -is not less striking than his figure—his cheeks -being generally hollow, his brow over-hanging, his cheek-bones -high, his forehead low and retreating. Nor is -his appearance healthful—his habit is tainted with -scrofula. I have seen agricultural labourers, blacksmiths, -carpenters, and even those among the wan and -distressed-looking weavers of Nottinghamshire, to -whom the term 'jolly' might not be inaptly applied; -but I never saw a 'jolly-looking' pit-man. As the germ -of this physical degeneration may be formed in the -youthful days of the pit-man, it is desirable to look for -its cause."<a name="FNanchor_38_38" id="FNanchor_38_38"></a> -<a href="#Footnote_38_38" class="fnanchor">[38]</a></p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[Pg 85]</a></span></p> - -<p class="i1">Ruptures, rheumatism, diseases of the heart and of -other organs, the results of over-exertion in unhealthy -places, are common among the persons employed in the -mines, as many intelligent persons testified before the -commissioners.</p> - -<p class="i1">An employment often pursued under circumstances -which bring with them so many and such formidable -diseases, must prematurely exhaust the strength of ordinary -constitutions; and the evidence collected in -almost all the districts proves that too often the collier -is a disabled man, with the marks of old age upon him, -while other men have scarcely passed beyond their -prime.</p> - -<p class="i1">The evidence shows that in South Staffordshire and -Shropshire, many colliers are incapable of following -their occupation after they are forty years of age; -others continue their work up to fifty, which is stated -by several witnesses to be about the general average. -Mr. Marcy, clerk to the Wellington Union, Salop, -states, that "at about forty the greater part of the -colliers may be considered as disabled, and regular old -men—as much as some are at eighty."<a name="FNanchor_39_39" id="FNanchor_39_39"></a> -<a href="#Footnote_39_39" class="fnanchor">[39]</a></p> - -<p class="i1">Even in Warwickshire and Leicestershire, in which -their physical condition is better than in any other districts, -Mr. Michael Parker, ground bailiff of the Smithson -collieries, states that "some of the men are -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[Pg 86]</a></span> -knocked up at forty-five and fifty, and that fifty may -be the average; which early exhaustion of the physical -strength he attributes to the severe labour and bad -air."<a name="FNanchor_40_40" id="FNanchor_40_40"></a> -<a href="#Footnote_40_40" class="fnanchor">[40]</a> -Mr. Dalby, surgeon of the Union of Ashby-de-la-Zouch, -says—"The work in the pit is very laborious, -and some are unable for it as early as fifty, -others at forty-five, and some at sixty; I should say -the greater part at forty-five."<a name="FNanchor_41_41" id="FNanchor_41_41"></a> -<a href="#Footnote_41_41" class="fnanchor">[41]</a> And Mr. Davenport, -clerk of the Union of Ashby-de-la-Zouch, gives a higher -average, and says that "a collier may wear from -sixty-five to seventy, while an agricultural labourer -may wear from seventy to seventy-five."<a name="FNanchor_42_42" id="FNanchor_42_42"></a> -<a href="#Footnote_42_42" class="fnanchor">[42]</a></p> - -<p class="i1">Of Derbyshire the sub-commissioner reports—"I -have not perceived that look of premature old age so -general amongst colliers, <i>until they are forty years of -age</i>, excepting in the loaders, who evidently appear so -at <i>twenty-eight or thirty</i>, and this I think must arise -from the hardness of their labour, in having such great -weights to lift, and breathing a worse atmosphere than -any other in the pit."<a name="FNanchor_43_43" id="FNanchor_43_43"></a> -<a href="#Footnote_43_43" class="fnanchor">[43]</a> Phoebe Gilbert states—"The -loaders are, as the saying is, 'old men before they -are young ones.'"<a name="FNanchor_44_44" id="FNanchor_44_44"></a> -<a href="#Footnote_44_44" class="fnanchor">[44]</a> Dr. Blake says—"He has also -noticed that when a collier has worked from a child, -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[Pg 87]</a></span> -and becomes forty, he looks much older than those of -the same age above ground."<a name="FNanchor_45_45" id="FNanchor_45_45"></a> -<a href="#Footnote_45_45" class="fnanchor">[45]</a></p> - -<p class="i1">In Yorkshire "the collier of fifty is usually an aged -man; he looks overstrained and stiffened by labour."<a name="FNanchor_46_46" -id="FNanchor_46_46"></a><a href="#Footnote_46_46" class="fnanchor">[46]</a> -"But whilst both the child and the adult miner appear -to enjoy excellent health, and to be remarkably free -from disease, it nevertheless appears that their labour, -at least that of the adult miner, is, in its general result, -and in the extent to which it is pursued, of a character -more severe than the constitution is properly able to -bear. It is rare that a collier is able to follow his -calling beyond the age of from forty to fifty, and then, -unless he be fortunate enough to obtain some easier -occupation, he sinks into a state of helpless dependence. -Better habits with regard to temperance might -diminish, but would not remove, this evil; and the -existence of this fact, in despite of the general healthiness -of the collier population, gives rise to the question -whether, apart from all considerations of mental -and moral improvement, a fatal mistake is not committed -in employing children of tender years to the -extent that their strength will bear, instead of giving -opportunity, by short hours of labour, for the fuller -and more perfect physical development which would -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[Pg 88]</a></span> -better fit them to go through the severe labour of their -after-life."<a name="FNanchor_47_47" id="FNanchor_47_47"></a> -<a href="#Footnote_47_47" class="fnanchor">[47]</a></p> - -<p class="i1">In the coal-fields of North Durham and Northumberland, -Dr. Elliott states "that premature old age in -appearance is common; men of thirty-five or forty -years may often be taken for ten years older than they -really are."<a name="FNanchor_48_48" id="FNanchor_48_48"></a> -<a href="#Footnote_48_48" class="fnanchor">[48]</a> Mr. Thomas Greenhow, surgeon, Walker -Colliery, North Durham, says "they have an aged -aspect somewhat early in life."<a name="FNanchor_49_49" id="FNanchor_49_49"></a> -<a href="#Footnote_49_49" class="fnanchor">[49]</a> Of the effect of employment -in the coal-mines of the East of Scotland, in -producing an early and irreparable deterioration of the -physical condition, the sub-commissioner thus reports: -"In a state of society such as has been described, the -condition of the children may be easily imagined, and -its baneful influence on the health cannot well be -exaggerated; and I am informed by very competent -authorities, that six months labour in the mines is sufficient -to effect a very visible change in the physical -condition of the children; and indeed it is scarcely -possible to conceive of circumstances more calculated to -sow the seeds of future disease, and, to borrow the language -of the Instructions, to prevent the organs from -being fully developed, to enfeeble and disorder their -functions, and to subject the whole system to injury -which cannot be repaired at any subsequent stage of -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[Pg 89]</a></span> -life."<a name="FNanchor_50_50" id="FNanchor_50_50"></a> -<a href="#Footnote_50_50" class="fnanchor">[50]</a> In the West of Scotland, Dr. Thompson, Ayr, -says—"A collier at fifty generally has the appearance -of a man ten years older than he is."<a name="FNanchor_51_51" id="FNanchor_51_51"></a> -<a href="#Footnote_51_51" class="fnanchor">[51]</a></p> - -<p class="i1">The sub-committee for North Wales reports—"They -fail in health and strength early in life. At thirty a -miner begins to look wan and emaciated, and so does a -collier at forty; while the farming labourer continues -robust and hearty."<a name="FNanchor_52_52" id="FNanchor_52_52"></a> -<a href="#Footnote_52_52" class="fnanchor">[52]</a> John Jones, relieving officer for -the Holywell district, states—"Though the children -and young persons employed in these works are healthy, -still it is observable that they soon get to look old, and -they often become asthmatic before they are forty."<a name="FNanchor_53_53" -id="FNanchor_53_53"></a><a href="#Footnote_53_53" class="fnanchor">[53]</a></p> - -<p class="i1">In the Forest of Dean, Mr. Thomas Marsh, surgeon, -states that "colliers usually become old men at fifty -to fifty-five years of age."<a name="FNanchor_54_54" id="FNanchor_54_54"></a> -<a href="#Footnote_54_54" class="fnanchor">[54]</a> In North Somersetshire, -William Brice, clerk and manager, says "there are -very few at work who are above fifty years of age."<a name="FNanchor_55_55" -id="FNanchor_55_55"></a><a href="#Footnote_55_55" class="fnanchor">[55]</a></p> - -<p class="i1">Early death is the natural consequence of the premature -decrepitude thus described to those whom ever-imminent -casualities have not brought to the grave during -the years of their vigour. The medical evidence -shows that even in South Staffordshire and Shropshire, -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[Pg 90]</a></span> -comparatively few miners attain their fifty-first year. -In Warwickshire and Leicestershire it is not uncommon -for the men to follow their occupation ten years longer; -but all classes of witnesses in the other districts uniformly -state that it is rare to see an old collier.</p> - -<p class="i1">In Derbyshire, William Wardle "does not think -colliers live as long as those above ground; very few -live to be sixty."<a name="FNanchor_56_56" id="FNanchor_56_56"></a> -<a href="#Footnote_56_56" class="fnanchor">[56]</a></p> - -<p class="i1">In Yorkshire, "colliers have harder work than any -other class of workmen, and the length of time they -work, as well as the intense exertion they undergo, -added to the frequent unhealthiness of the atmosphere, -decidedly tend to shorten their lives."<a name="FNanchor_57_57" id="FNanchor_57_57"></a> -<a href="#Footnote_57_57" class="fnanchor">[57]</a> Mr. Henry -Hemmingway, surgeon, Dewsbury, states—"I only -knew one old collier."<a name="FNanchor_58_58" id="FNanchor_58_58"></a> -<a href="#Footnote_58_58" class="fnanchor">[58]</a> Mr. Thomas Rayner, surgeon, -Bristall, says—"I have had twenty-seven years' practice, -and I know of no old colliers—their extreme term -of life is from fifty-six to sixty years of age."<a name="FNanchor_59_59" -id="FNanchor_59_59"></a><a href="#Footnote_59_59" class="fnanchor">[59]</a> In -Lancashire, states Mr. Kennedy, "it appeared to me -that the number of aged men was much smaller than in -other occupations."<a name="FNanchor_60_60" id="FNanchor_60_60"></a><a -href="#Footnote_60_60" class="fnanchor">[60]</a></p> - -<p class="i1">After stating that the colliers of South Durham are -a strong and healthy race, Dr. Mitchell adds—"The -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[Pg 91]</a></span> -work, however, is laborious and exhausting; and the -colliers, though healthy, are not long-lived."<a name="FNanchor_61_61" id="FNanchor_61_61"></a> -<a href="#Footnote_61_61" class="fnanchor">[61]</a> John -Wetherell Hays, clerk of the Union, Durham, states, -"that the colliers are not long-lived; that they live -well, and live fast."<a name="FNanchor_62_62" id="FNanchor_62_62"></a> -<a href="#Footnote_62_62" class="fnanchor">[62]</a> And George Canney, medical -practitioner, Bishop Auckland, says "they are generally -short-lived."<a name="FNanchor_63_63" id="FNanchor_63_63"></a> -<a href="#Footnote_63_63" class="fnanchor">[63]</a></p> - -<p class="i1">The sub-commissioner for the East of Scotland reports, -that after a careful consideration of all the -sources of information which could assist him in the -object of his inquiry, he arrives at the following conclusion:—"That -the labour in the coal-mines in the Lothian -and River Forth districts of Scotland is most -severe, and that its severity is in many cases increased by -the want of proper attention to the economy of mining -operations; whence those operations, as at present carried -on, are extremely unwholesome, and productive of diseases -which have a manifest tendency to shorten life."<a name="FNanchor_64_64" -id="FNanchor_64_64"></a><a href="#Footnote_64_64" class="fnanchor">[64]</a> -Mr. Walter Jarvie, manager to Mr. Cadell, of Banton, -states that "in the small village of Banton there are -nearly forty widows; and as the children work always -on parents' behalf, it prevents them having recourse to -the kirk-session for relief."<a name="FNanchor_65_65" id="FNanchor_65_65"></a> -<a href="#Footnote_65_65" class="fnanchor">[65]</a> Elsper Thompson says, -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[Pg 92]</a></span> -"Most of the men begin to complain at thirty to thirty-five -years of age, and drop off before they get the -length of forty."<a name="FNanchor_66_66" id="FNanchor_66_66"></a> -<a href="#Footnote_66_66" class="fnanchor">[66]</a> Henry Naysmith, sixty-five years -of age, collier, who says he has wrought upward of -fifty years, adds that "he has been off work nearly ten -years, and is much afflicted with shortness of breath: it -is the bane of the colliers, and few men live to my -age."<a name="FNanchor_67_67" id="FNanchor_67_67"></a> -<a href="#Footnote_67_67" class="fnanchor">[67]</a></p> - -<p class="i1">In North Wales, it is said that "few colliers come to -the age of sixty, and but still fewer miners. This I -believe to be the fact, though I met with many, both -miners and colliers, who had attained the age of sixty; -yet they were few compared with the number <i>employed</i> -in these branches of industry."<a name="FNanchor_68_68" id="FNanchor_68_68"></a> -<a href="#Footnote_68_68" class="fnanchor">[68]</a> Mr. John Jones, -relieving-officer for the Holywell district, "thinks they -are not as long-lived as agriculturists."<a name="FNanchor_69_69" id="FNanchor_69_69"></a> -<a href="#Footnote_69_69" class="fnanchor">[69]</a> James Jones, -overman, Cyfarthfa Works, states "that the colliers -are generally very healthy and strong up to the age of -forty or fifty; they then often have a difficulty of -breathing, and they die at younger ages than agricultural -labourers or handicraftsmen."<a name="FNanchor_70_70" id="FNanchor_70_70"></a> -<a href="#Footnote_70_70" class="fnanchor">[70]</a> Mr. John Hughes, -assistant underground agent, says "they do not appear -to live long after fifty or sixty years old."<a name="FNanchor_71_71" id="FNanchor_71_71"></a> -<a href="#Footnote_71_71" class="fnanchor">[71]</a></p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[Pg 93]</a></span></p> - -<p class="i1">In South Wales, the sub-commissioner reports that he -"has not been able to ascertain, for want of sufficient -data, the average duration of a collier's life in the -counties either of Glamorgan or Monmouth, but it is -admitted that such average duration is less than that -of a common labourer. In the county of Pembroke, -however, Mr. James Bowen, surgeon, Narbeth, in that -county, informs me—"The average life of a collier is -about forty; they rarely attain forty-five years of age; -and in the entire population of Begelly and East Williamson, -being 1163, forming, strictly speaking, a -mining population, there are not six colliers of sixty -years of age."</p> - -<p class="i1">The Rev. Richard Buckby, rector of Begelly, in -answer to one of the queries in the Educational Paper -of the Central Board, writes—"The foul air of the -mines seriously affects the lungs of the children and -young persons employed therein, and shortens the term -of life. In a population of one thousand, there are -not six colliers sixty years of age."</p> - -<p class="i1">There are certain minor evils connected with employment -in the worst class of coal-mines, which, though not -perhaps very serious, are nevertheless sources of much -suffering, such as irritation of the head, feet, back, and -skin, together with occasional strains. "The upper -parts of their head are always denuded of hair; their -scalps are also thickened and inflamed, sometimes -taking on the appearance <i>tinea capitis</i>, from the pressure -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[Pg 94]</a></span> -and friction which they undergo in the act of -pushing the corves forward, although they are mostly -defended by a padded cap."<a name="FNanchor_72_72" id="FNanchor_72_72"></a> -<a href="#Footnote_72_72" class="fnanchor">[72]</a> "It is no uncommon -thing to see the hurriers bald, owing to pushing the -corves up steep board gates, with their heads."<a name="FNanchor_73_73" id="FNanchor_73_73"></a> -<a href="#Footnote_73_73" class="fnanchor">[73]</a></p> - -<p class="i1">Mr. Alexander Muir, surgeon: "Are there any peculiar -diseases to which colliers are subject? No, excepting -that the hurriers are occasionally affected by a -formation of matter upon the forehead, in consequence -of pushing the wagons with their head. To what extent -is such formation of matter injurious to the -general health? It produces considerable local irritation. -When the matter is allowed to escape, it heals -as perfectly as before. Do you conceive this use of -the head to be a necessary or unnecessary part of their -occupation? I should think it not necessary. Does it -arise from any deficiency of strength, the head being -used to supply the place of the arms? I should think -it does."<a name="FNanchor_74_74" id="FNanchor_74_74"></a> -<a href="#Footnote_74_74" class="fnanchor">[74]</a> David Swallow, collier, East Moor: "The -hair is very often worn off bald, and the part is swollen -so that sometimes it is like a bulb filled with spongy -matter; so very bad after they have done their day's -work that they cannot bear it touching."<a name="FNanchor_75_75" id="FNanchor_75_75"></a> -<a href="#Footnote_75_75" class="fnanchor">[75]</a> William -Holt: "Some thrutched with their heads, because -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[Pg 95]</a></span> -they cannot thrutch enough with their hands alone. -Thrutching with their heads makes a gathering in the -head, and makes them very ill."<a name="FNanchor_76_76" id="FNanchor_76_76"></a> -<a href="#Footnote_76_76" class="fnanchor">[76]</a></p> - -<p class="i1">In running continually over uneven ground, without -shoes or stockings, particles of dirt, coal, and stone get -between the toes, and are prolific sources of irritation -and lameness, of which they often complain; the skin -covering the balls of the toes and heels becomes thickened -and horny, occasioning a good deal of pain and -pustular gathering."<a name="FNanchor_77_77" id="FNanchor_77_77"></a> -<a href="#Footnote_77_77" class="fnanchor">[77]</a> James Mitchell: "I have hurt -my feet often; sometimes the coals cut them, and they -run matter, and the corves run over them when I stand -agate; I an't not always aware of their coming."<a name="FNanchor_78_78" id="FNanchor_78_78"></a> -<a href="#Footnote_78_78" class="fnanchor">[78]</a> -Selina Ambler: "I many times hurt my feet and legs -with the coals and scale in gate; sometimes we run -corve over them; my feet have many a time been -blooded."<a name="FNanchor_79_79" id="FNanchor_79_79"></a> -<a href="#Footnote_79_79" class="fnanchor">[79]</a> Mrs. Carr: "Has known many foals laid -off with sore backs, especially last year and the year -before, when the putting was said to be very heavy in -the Flatworth pit. Some foals had to lay off a day or -two, to get their backs healed, before they could go to -work again."<a name="FNanchor_80_80" id="FNanchor_80_80"></a> -<a href="#Footnote_80_80" class="fnanchor">[80]</a> William Jakes: "His back is often -skinned; is now sore and all red, from holding on or -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[Pg 96]</a></span> -back against the corf."<a name="FNanchor_81_81" id="FNanchor_81_81"></a> -<a href="#Footnote_81_81" class="fnanchor">[81]</a> George Faction: "In some -places he bends quite double, and rubs his back so as to -bring the skin off, and whiles to make it bleed, and -whiles he is off work from these things."<a name="FNanchor_82_82" id="FNanchor_82_82"></a> -<a href="#Footnote_82_82" class="fnanchor">[82]</a> Mr. James -Probert, surgeon: "Chronic pain in the back is a -very common complaint among colliers, arising from -overstrained tendonous muscles, and it is the source of -much discomfort to the colliers."<a name="FNanchor_83_83" id="FNanchor_83_83"></a> -<a href="#Footnote_83_83" class="fnanchor">[83]</a> Mr. William Dodd, -surgeon: "As to the 'boils,' when a fresh man comes -to the colliery he generally becomes affected by these -'boils,' most probably from the heat in the first instance, -and subsequently they are aggravated by the salt -water."<a name="FNanchor_84_84" id="FNanchor_84_84"></a> -<a href="#Footnote_84_84" class="fnanchor">[84]</a> James Johnson: "Sometimes when among -the salt water, the heat, etc., brings out boils about the -size of a hen's egg upon him, about his legs and thighs, -and under his arms sometimes. A vast of boys, men, -and all, have these boils at times. These boils perhaps -last a fortnight before they get ripe, and then they -burst. A great white thing follows, and is called a -'tanner'."<a name="FNanchor_85_85" id="FNanchor_85_85"></a> -<a href="#Footnote_85_85" class="fnanchor">[85]</a> Dr. Adams, Glasgow: "An eruption on -the skin is very prevalent among colliers."<a name="FNanchor_86_86" id="FNanchor_86_86"></a> -<a href="#Footnote_86_86" class="fnanchor">[86]</a> William -Mackenzie: "Had about twenty boils on his back at -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[Pg 97]</a></span> -one time, about two years since. These lasted about -three months. He was kept off work about a week. -If he touched them against any thing they were like -death to him. But few of the boys have so many at a -time; many of the boys get two or three at a time. -The boys take physic to bring them all out; then they -get rid of them for some time. If the salt water falls -on any part of them that is scotched, it burns into the -flesh like; it is like red rust. It almost blinds the -boys if it gets into their eyes."<a name="FNanchor_87_87" id="FNanchor_87_87"></a> -<a href="#Footnote_87_87" class="fnanchor">[87]</a></p> - -<p class="i1">Accidents of a fatal nature are of frightful frequency -in the mines. In one year there were three -hundred and forty-nine deaths by violence in the coal-mines -of England alone. Of the persons thus killed, -fifty-eight were under thirteen years of age; sixty-two -under eighteen, and the remainder over eighteen. -One of the most frequent causes of accidents is the -want of superintendence to see the security of the machinery -for letting down and bringing up the work-people, -and the restriction of the number of persons -who ascend or descend at the same time. The commissioners -observed at Elland two hurriers, named Ann -Ambler and William Dyson, cross-lapped upon a clutch-iron, -drawn up by a woman. As soon as they arrived -at the top the handle was made fast by a bolt. The -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[Pg 98]</a></span> -woman then grasped a hand of both at the same time, -and by main force brought them to land.</p> - -<p class="i1">From all the evidence adduced, the commissioners -came to the following conclusions:—</p> - -<div class="bq"> - -<p class="i1">"In regard to coal-mines—</p> - -<p class="i1">"That instances occur in which children are taken into these -mines to work as early as four years of age, sometimes at five, -and between five and six; not unfrequently between six and -seven, and often from seven to eight; while from eight to nine is -the ordinary age at which employment in these mines commences.</p> - -<p class="i1">"That a very large proportion of the persons employed in carrying -on the work of these mines is under thirteen years of age; -and a still larger proportion between thirteen and eighteen.</p> - -<p class="i1">"That in several districts female children begin to work in -these mines at the same early ages as the males.</p> - -<p class="i1">"That the great body of the children and young persons employed -in these mines are of the families of the adult work-people -engaged in the pits, or belong to the poorest population in -the neighbourhood, and are hired and paid in some districts by -the work-people, but in others by the proprietors or contractors.</p> - -<p class="i1">"That there are in some districts, also, a small number of -parish apprentices, who are bound to serve their masters until -twenty-one years of age, in an employment in which there is -nothing deserving the name of skill to be acquired, under circumstances -of frequent ill-treatment, and under the oppressive condition -that they shall receive only food and clothing, while their -free companions may be obtaining a man's wages.</p> - -<p class="i1">"That, in many instances, much that skill and capital can effect -to render the place of work unoppressive and healthy and safe, -is done, often with complete success, as far as regards the healthfulness -and comfort of the mines; but that to render them perfectly -safe does not appear to be practicable by any means yet -known; while, in great numbers of instances, their condition in -regard both to ventilation and drainage is lamentably defective.</p></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[Pg 99]</a></span></p> - -<div class="bq"> - -<p class="i1">"That the nature of the employment which is assigned to the -youngest children—generally that of 'trapping'—requires that -they should be in the pit as soon as the work of the day commences, -and, according to the present system, that they should -not leave the pit before the work of the day is at an end.</p> - -<p class="i1">"That although this employment scarcely deserves the name -of labour, yet, as the children engaged in it are commonly excluded -from light, and are always without companions, it would, -were it not for the passing and repassing of the coal-carriages, -amount to solitary confinement of the worst sort.</p> - -<p class="i1">"That in those districts where the seams of coal are so thick -that horses go direct to the workings, or in which the side passages -from the workings to the horseways are not of any great -length, the lights in the main way render the situation of the -children comparatively less cheerless, dull, and stupefying; but -that in some districts they are in solitude and darkness during -the whole time they are in the pit; and, according to their own -account, many of them never see the light of day for weeks -together during the greater part of the winter season, except on -those days in the week when work is not going on, and on the -Sundays.</p> - -<p class="i1">"That, at different ages from six years old and upward, the -hard work of pushing and dragging the carriages of coal from -the workings to the main ways, or to the foot of the shaft, begins; -a labour which all classes of witnesses concur in stating requires -the unremitting exertion of all the physical power which the -young workers possess.</p> - -<p class="i1">"That, in the districts in which females are taken down into the -coal-mines, both sexes are employed together in precisely the same -kind of labour, and work for the same number of hours; that the -girls and boys, and the young men and young women, and even -married women and women with child, commonly work almost -naked, and the men, in many mines, quite naked; and that all -classes of witnesses bear testimony to the demoralizing influence -of the employment of females under ground.</p> - -<p class="i1">"That, in the East of Scotland, a much larger proportion of -children and young persons are employed in these mines than in -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[Pg 100]</a></span> -any other districts, many of whom are girls; and that the chief -part of their labour consists in carrying the coal on their backs -up steep ladders.</p> - -<p class="i1">"That, when the work-people are in full employment, the regular -hours of work for children and young persons are rarely -less than eleven, more often they are twelve; in some districts -they are thirteen, and in one district they are generally fourteen -and upward.</p> - -<p class="i1">"That, in the great majority of these mines, night-work is a part -of the ordinary system of labour, more or less regularly carried -on according to the demand for coals, and one which the whole -body of evidence shows to act most injuriously both on the physical -and moral condition of the work-people, and more especially -on that of the children and young persons.</p> - -<p class="i1">"That the labour performed daily for this number of hours, -though it cannot strictly be said to be continuous, because, from -the nature of the employment, intervals of a few minutes necessarily -occur during which the muscles are not in active exertion, -is, nevertheless, generally uninterrupted by any regular time set -apart for rest or refreshment; what food is taken in the pit being -eaten as best it may while the labour continues.</p> - -<p class="i1">"That in all well-regulated mines, in which in general the -hours of work are the shortest, and in some few of which from -half an hour to an hour is regularly set apart for meals, little or -no fatigue is complained of after an ordinary day's work, when -the children are ten years old and upward; but in other instances -great complaint is made of the feeling of fatigue, and the -work-people are never without this feeling, often in an extremely -painful degree.</p> - -<p class="i1">"That in many cases the children and young persons have -little cause of complaint in regard to the treatment they receive -from the persons of authority in the mine, or from the colliers; -but that in general the younger children are roughly used by -their older companions, while in many mines the conduct of the -adult colliers to the children and adult persons who assist them -is harsh and cruel; the persons in authority in these mines, who -must be cognizant of this ill-usage, never interfering to prevent -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[Pg 101]</a></span> -it, and some of them distinctly stating that they do not conceive -that they have any right to do so.</p> - -<p class="i1">"That, with some exceptions, little interest is taken by the -coal-owners in the children or young persons employed in their -works after the daily labour is over; at least, little is done to -afford them the means of enjoying innocent amusement and -healthful recreation.</p> - -<p class="i1">"That in all the coal fields accidents of a fearful nature are -extremely frequent; and that the returns made to our own queries, -as well as the registry tables, prove that, of the work-people who -perish by such accidents, the proportion of children and young persons -sometimes equals and rarely falls much below that of adults.</p> - -<p class="i1">"That one of the most frequent causes of accidents in these -mines is the want of superintendence by overlookers or otherwise, -to see to the security of the machinery for letting down and bringing -up the work-people, the restriction of the number of persons -that ascend and descend at a time, the state of the mine as to the -quantity of noxious gas in it, the efficiency of the ventilation, the -exactness with which the air-door keepers perform their duty, the -places into which it is safe or unsafe to go with a naked lighted -candle, the security of the proppings to uphold the roof, &c.</p> - -<p class="i1">"That another frequent cause of fatal accidents is the almost -universal practice of intrusting the closing of the air-doors to very -young children.</p> - -<p class="i1">"That there are many mines in which the most ordinary precautions -to guard against accidents are neglected, and in which -no money appears to be expended with a view to secure the safety, -much less the comfort, of the work-people.</p> - -<p class="i1">"There are, moreover, two practices, peculiar to a few districts, -which deserve the highest reprobation, namely,—first, the practice, -not unknown in some of the smaller mines in Yorkshire, and -common in Lancashire, in employing ropes that are unsafe for -letting down and drawing up the work-people; and second, the -practice occasionally met with in Yorkshire, and common in Derbyshire -and Lancashire, of employing boys at the steam-engines -for letting down and drawing up the work-people."—<i>First Report, -Conclusions</i>, p. 255-257.</p></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[Pg 102]</a></span></p> - -<p class="i1">Well, what did the British Government do when the -heart-rending report of the commissioners was received? -It felt the necessity of a show of legislative interference. -Lord Ashley introduced a bill into the House of Commons, -having for its object the amelioration of the condition -of the mining women and children. Much discussion -occurred. The bill passed the House of Commons, -and was taken to the House of Lords, the high court of -British oppression. Some lords advocated the measure, -whereupon Lord Londonderry and some others spoke -of them as "bitten with a humanity mania." Modifications -were made in the bill to suit the pockets of the -luxurious proprietors, and then it was grumblingly -adopted. What did the bill provide? That no child -under <i>ten</i> years of age, and no woman or girl, of any -age, should be allowed to work in a mine. Now, children -may be ten years of age, and above that, and yet -they are still tender little creatures. The majority of -the sufferers who came to the notice of the commissioners -were above ten years of age! In that point, -at least, the bill was worse than a nullity—it was a base -deceit, pouring balm, but not upon the wound!</p> - -<p class="i1">The same bill provided that no females should be -allowed to work in the mines. But then the females -were driven to the mines by the dread of starvation. -Soon after the passage of the bill, petitions from the -mining districts were sent to Parliament, praying that -females might be allowed to work in the mines. The -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[Pg 103]</a></span> -petitioners had no means of getting bread. If they -had, they would never have been in the mines at all. -The horrors of labour in the mines were consequences -of the general slavery. Well, there were many proprietors -of mines in Parliament, and their influence -was sufficient to nullify the law in practice. There is -good authority for believing that the disgusting slavery -of the British mines has been ameliorated only to a very -limited extent.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[Pg 104]</a></span></p> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2><a name="CHAPTER_III" id="CHAPTER_III"></a>CHAPTER III.</h2> -</div> - -<p class="ac">SLAVERY IN THE BRITISH FACTORIES.</p> - - -<p class="i1"><span class="sc">Great Britain</span> has long gloried in the variety and -importance of her manufactures. Burke spoke of Birmingham -as the toyshop of Europe; and, at this day, -the looms of Manchester and the other factory towns -of England furnish the dry-goods of a large portion of -the world. Viewed at a distance, this wonder-working -industry excites astonishment and admiration; but a -closer inspection will show us such corrupt and gloomy -features in this vast manufacturing system as will turn -a portion of admiration into shrinking disgust. Giving -the meed of praise to the perfection of machinery and -the excellence of the fabrics, what shall we say of the -human operatives? For glory purchased at the price -of blood and souls is a vanity indeed. Let us see!</p> - -<p class="i1">The number of persons employed in the cotton, wool, -silk, and flax manufactures of Great Britain is estimated -at about two millions. Mr. Baines states that about -one and a half million are employed in the cotton manufactures -alone. The whole number employed in the -production of all sorts of iron, hardware, and cutlery -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[Pg 105]</a></span> -articles is estimated at 350,000. In the manufacture -of jewelry, earthen and glass ware, paper, woollen stuffs, -distilled and fermented liquors, and in the common -trades of tailoring, shoemaking, carpentering, &c., the -numbers employed are very great, though not accurately -known. We think the facts will bear us out in -stating that this vast body of operatives suffer more of -the real miseries of slavery than any similar class upon -the face of the earth.</p> - -<p class="i1">In the first place, admitting that wages are as high -in Great Britain as in any continental country, the -enormous expenses of the church and aristocracy produce -a taxation which eats up so large a portion of -these wages, that there is not enough left to enable the -workman to live decently and comfortably. But the -wages are, in general, brought very low by excessive -competition; and, in consequence, the operative must -stretch his hours of toil far beyond all healthy limits to -earn enough to pay taxes and support himself. It is -the struggle of drowning men, and what wonder if many -sink beneath the gloomy waves?</p> - -<p class="i1">When C. Edwards Lester, an author of reputation, was -in England, he visited Manchester, and, making inquiries -of an operative, obtained the following reply:—</p> - -<div class="bq"> - -<p class="i1">"I have a wife and nine children, and a pretty hard time we -have too, we are so many; and most of the children are so small, -they can do little for the support of the family. I generally get -from two shillings to a crown a day for carrying luggage; and -some of my children are in the mills; and the rest are too young -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[Pg 106]</a></span> -to work yet. My wife is never well, and it comes pretty hard on -her to do the work of the whole family. We often talk these -things over, and feel pretty sad. We live in a poor house; we -can't clothe our children comfortably; not one of them ever went -to school: they could go to the Sunday-school, but we can't make -them look decent enough to go to such a place. As for meat, we -never taste it; potatoes and coarse bread are our principal food. -We can't save any thing for a day of want; almost every thing -we get for our work seems to go for taxes. We are taxed for -something almost every week in the year. We have no time to -ourselves when we are free from work. It seems that our life is -all toil; I sometimes almost give up. Life isn't worth much to a -poor man in England; and sometimes Mary and I, when we talk -about it, pretty much conclude that we all should be better off if -we were dead. I have gone home at night a great many times, -and told my wife when she said supper was ready, that I had -taken a bite at a chophouse on the way, and was not hungry—she -and the children could eat my share. Yes, I have said this a -great many times when I felt pretty hungry myself. I sometimes -wonder that God suffers so many poor people to come into the -world."</p></div> - -<p class="i1">And this is, comparatively, a mild case. Instances -of hard-working families living in dark, damp cellars, -and having the coarsest food, are common in Manchester, -Birmingham, and other manufacturing towns.</p> - -<p class="i1">Mrs. Gaskell, in her thrilling novel, "Mary Barton, -a Tale of Manchester Life," depicts without exaggeration -the sufferings of the operatives and their families -when work is a little slack, or when, by accident, they -are thrown out of employment for a short period. A -large factory, belonging to a Mr. Carson, had been -destroyed by fire, and about the same time, as trade -was had, some mills shortened hours, turned off hands, -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[Pg 107]</a></span> -and finally stopped work altogether. Almost inconceivable -misery followed among the unemployed workmen. -In the best of times they fared hardly; now they -were forced to live in damp and filthy cellars, and many -perished, either from starvation or from fevers bred in -their horrible residences. One cold evening John Barton -received a hurried visit from a fellow-operative, named -George Wilson.</p> - -<div class="bq"> - -<p class="i1">"'You've not got a bit o' money by you, Barton?' asked he.</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Not I; who has now, I'd like to know? Whatten you want -it for?'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'I donnot want it for mysel, tho' we've none to spare. But don -ye know Ben Davenport as worked at Carson's? He's down wi' -the fever, and ne'er a stick o' fire, nor a cowd potato in the house.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'I han got no money, I tell ye,' said Barton. Wilson looked -disappointed. Barton tried not to be interested, but he could not -help it in spite of his gruffness. He rose, and went to the cupboard, -(his wife's pride long ago.) There lay the remains of his -dinner, hastily put there ready for supper. Bread, and a slice of -cold, fat, boiled bacon. He wrapped them in his handkerchief, -put them in the crown of his hat, and said—'Come, let's be going.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Going—art thou going to work this time o' day?'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'No, stupid, to be sure not. Going to see the fellow thou spoke -on.' So they put on their hats and set out. On the way Wilson -said Davenport was a good fellow, though too much of the Methodee; -that his children were too young to work, but not too -young to be cold and hungry; that they had sunk lower and -lower, and pawned thing after thing, and that now they lived in -in a cellar in Berry-street, off Store-street. Barton growled inarticulate -words of no benevolent import to a large class of mankind, -and so they went along till they arrived in Berry-street. It was -unpaved; and down the middle a gutter forced its way, every -now and then forming pools in the holes with which the street -abounded. Never was the Old Edinburgh cry of 'Gardez l'eau,' -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[Pg 108]</a></span> -more necessary than in this street. As they passed, women from -their doors tossed household slops of <i>every</i> description into the -gutter; they ran into the next pool, which overflowed and stagnated. -Heaps of ashes were the stepping-stones, on which the -passer-by, who cared in the least for cleanliness, took care not to -put his foot. Our friends were not dainty, but even they picked -their way till they got to some steps leading down into a small -area, where a person standing would have his head about one foot -below the level of the street, and might, at the same time, without -the least motion of his body, touch the window of the cellar and -the damp, muddy wall right opposite. You went down one step -even from the foul area into the cellar, in which a family of human -beings lived. It was very dark inside. The window panes were -many of them broken and stuffed with rags, which was reason -enough for the dusky light that pervaded the place even at mid-day. -After the account I have given of the state of the street, no -one can be surprised that, on going into the cellar inhabited by -Davenport, the smell was so fetid as almost to knock the two -men down. Quickly recovering themselves, as those inured to -such things do, they began to penetrate the thick darkness of the -place, and to see three or four little children rolling on the damp, -nay, wet, brick floor, through which the stagnant, filthy moisture -of the street oozed up; the fireplace was empty and black; the -wife sat on her husband's lair, and cried in the dank loneliness.</p> - -<p class="i1">"'See, missis, I'm back again. Hold your noise, children, and -don't mither (trouble) your mammy for bread, here's a chap as -has got some for you.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"In that dim light, which was darkness to strangers, they -clustered round Barton, and tore from him the food he had -brought with him. It was a large hunch of bread, but it had -vanished in an instant.</p> - -<p class="i1">"'We maun do summut for 'em,' said he to Wilson. 'Yo stop -here, and I'll be back in half an hour.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"So he strode, and ran, and hurried home. He emptied into the -ever-useful pocket-handkerchief the little meal remaining in the -mug. Mary would have her tea at Miss Simmonds'; her food for -the day was safe. Then he went up-stairs for his better coat, and -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[Pg 109]</a></span> -his one, gay, red and yellow silk pocket-handkerchief—his jewels, -his plate, his valuables these were. He went to the pawn-shop; -he pawned them for five shillings; he stopped not, nor stayed, till -he was once more in London Road, within five minutes' walk of -Berry-street—then he loitered in his gait, in order to discover the -shops he wanted. He bought meat, and a loaf of bread, candles, -chips, and from a little retail yard he purchased a couple of hundredweights -of coals. Some money yet remained—all destined -for them, but he did not yet know how best to spend it. Food, -light, and warmth, he had instantly seen, were necessary; for -luxuries he would wait. Wilson's eyes filled with tears when he -saw Barton enter with his purchases. He understood it all, and -longed to be once more in work, that he might help in some of -these material ways, without feeling that he was using his son's -money. But though 'silver and gold he had none,' he gave heart-service -and love-works of far more value. Nor was John Barton -behind in these. 'The fever' was (as it usually is in Manchester) -of a low, putrid, typhoid kind; brought on by miserable living, -filthy neighbourhood, and great depression of mind and body. It -is virulent, malignant, and highly infectious. But the poor are -fatalists with regard to infection; and well for them it is so, for -in their crowded dwellings no invalid can be isolated. Wilson -asked Barton if he thought he should catch it, and was laughed -at for his idea.</p> - -<p class="i1">"The two men, rough, tender nurses as they were, lighted the -fire, which smoked and puffed into the room as if it did not know -the way up the damp, unused chimney. The very smoke seemed -purifying and healthy in the thick clammy air. The children -clamoured again for bread; but this time Barton took a piece first -to the poor, helpless, hopeless woman, who still sat by the side -of her husband, listening to his anxious, miserable mutterings. -She took the bread, when it was put into her hand, and broke a -bit, but could not eat. She was past hunger. She fell down on -the floor with a heavy, unresisting bang. The men looked puzzled. -'She's wellnigh clemmed, (<i>starved</i>,)' said Barton. 'Folk do say -one musn't give clemmed people much to eat; but, bless us, she'll -eat naught.'</p></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[Pg 110]</a></span></p> - -<div class="bq"> - -<p class="i1">'I'll tell you what I'll do,' said Wilson, I'll take these two big -lads, as does naught but fight, home to my missis's for to-night, -and I will get a jug o' tea. Them women always does best with -tea and such slop.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"So Barton was now left alone with a little child, crying, when -it had done eating, for mammy, with a fainting, dead-like woman, -and with the sick man, whose mutterings were rising up to screams -and shrieks of agonized anxiety. He carried the woman to the -fire, and chafed her hands. He looked around for something to -raise her head. There was literally nothing but some loose bricks: -however, those he got, and taking off his coat, he covered them -with it as well as he could. He pulled her feet to the fire, which -now began to emit some faint heat. He looked round for water, -but the poor woman had been too weak to drag herself out to the -distant pump, and water there was none. He snatched the child, -and ran up the area steps to the room above, and borrowed their -only saucepan with some water in it. Then he began, with the -useful skill of a working man, to make some gruel; and, when it -was hastily made, he seized a battered iron table-spoon, kept -when many other little things had been sold in a lot, in order to -feed baby, and with it he forced one or two drops between her -clenched teeth. The mouth opened mechanically to receive more, -and gradually she revived. She sat up and looked round; and, -recollecting all, fell down again in weak and passive despair. -Her little child crawled to her, and wiped with its fingers the -thick-coming tears which she now had strength to weep. It was -now high time to attend to the man. He lay on straw, so damp -and mouldy no dog would have chosen it in preference to flags; -over it was a piece of sacking, coming next to his worn skeleton -of a body; above him was mustered every article of clothing that -could be spared by mother or children this bitter weather; and, -in addition to his own, these might have given as much warmth -as one blanket, could they have been kept on him; but as he restlessly -tossed to and fro, they fell off, and left him shivering in spite -of the burning heat of his skin. Every now and then he started -up in his naked madness, looking like the prophet of wo in the -fearful plague-picture; but he soon fell again in exhaustion, and -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[Pg 111]</a></span> -Barton found he must be closely watched, lest in these falls he -should injure himself against the hard brick floor. He was thankful -when Wilson reappeared, carrying in both hands a jug of -steaming tea, intended for the poor wife; but when the delirious -husband saw drink, he snatched at it with animal instinct, with -a selfishness he had never shown in health.</p> - -<p class="i1">"Then the two men consulted together. It seemed decided without -a word being spoken on the subject, that both should spend -the night with the forlorn couple; that was settled. But could -no doctor be had? In all probability, no. The next day an infirmary -order might be begged; but meanwhile the only medical -advice they could have must be from a druggist's. So Barton, -being the moneyed man, set out to find a shop in London Road.</p> - -<p class="i1">"He reached a druggist's shop, and entered. The druggist, -whose smooth manners seemed to have been salved over with his -own spermaceti, listened attentively to Barton's description of -Davenport's illness, concluded it was typhus fever, very prevalent -in that neighbourhood, and proceeded to make up a bottle of medicine—sweet -spirits of nitre, or some such innocent potion—very -good for slight colds, but utterly powerless to stop for an instant -the raging fever of the poor man it was intended to relieve. He -recommended the same course they had previously determined to -adopt, applying the next morning for an infirmary order; and -Barton left the shop with comfortable faith in the physic given -him; for men of his class, if they believe in physic at all, believe -that every description is equally efficacious.</p> - -<p class="i1">"Meanwhile Wilson had done what he could at Davenport's -home. He had soothed and covered the man many a time; he -had fed and hushed the little child, and spoken tenderly to the -woman, who lay still in her weakness and her weariness. He -had opened a door, but only for an instant; it led into a back -cellar, with a grating instead of a window, down which dropped -the moisture from pig-styes, and worse abominations. It was not -paved; the floor was one mass of bad-smelling mud. It had never -been used, for there was not an article of furniture in it; nor -could a human being, much less a pig, have lived there many -days. Yet the 'back apartment' made a difference in the rent. -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[Pg 112]</a></span> -The Davenports paid threepence more for having two rooms. -When he turned round again, he saw the woman suckling the -child from her dry, withered breast.</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Surely the lad is weaned!' exclaimed he, in surprise. 'Why, -how old is he?'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Going on two year,' she faintly answered. 'But, oh! it keeps -him quiet when I've naught else to gi' him, and he'll get a bit of -sleep lying there, if he's getten naught beside. We han done our -best to gi' the childer food, howe'er we pinched ourselves.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Han ye had no money fra th' town?'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'No; my master is Buckinghamshire born, and he's feared -the town would send him back to his parish, if he went to the -board; so we've just borne on in hope o' better times. But I -think they'll never come in my day;' and the poor woman began -her weak, high-pitched cry again.</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Here, sup this drop o' gruel, and then try and get a bit o' -sleep. John and I'll watch by your master to-night.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'God's blessing be on you!'</p> - -<p class="i1">"She finished the gruel, and fell into a dead sleep. Wilson -covered her with his coat as well as he could, and tried to move -lightly for fear of disturbing her; but there need have been no -such dread, for her sleep was profound and heavy with exhaustion. -Once only she roused to pull the coat round her little child.</p> - -<p class="i1">"And now, all Wilson's care, and Barton's to boot, was wanted -to restrain the wild, mad agony of the fevered man. He started -up, he yelled, he seemed infuriated by overwhelming anxiety. -He cursed and swore, which surprised Wilson, who knew his piety -in health, and who did not know the unbridled tongue of delirium. -At length he seemed exhausted, and fell asleep; and Barton and -Wilson drew near the fire, and talked together in whispers. They -sat on the floor, for chairs there were none; the sole table was an -old tub turned upside down. They put out the candle and conversed -by the flickering fire-light.</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Han yo known this chap long?' asked Barton.</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Better nor three year. He's worked wi' Carsons that long, -and were always a steady, civil-spoken fellow, though, as I said -afore, somewhat of a Methodee. I wish I'd gotten a letter he sent -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[Pg 113]</a></span> -to his missis, a week or two agone, when he were on tramp for -work. It did my heart good to read it; for yo see, I were a bit -grumbling mysel; it seemed hard to be sponging on Jem, and -taking a' his flesh-meat money to buy bread for me and them as -I ought to be keeping. But, yo know, though I can earn naught, -I mun eat summut. Well, as I telled ye, I were grumbling, -when she,' indicating the sleeping woman by a nod, 'brought me -Ben's letter, for she could na read hersel. It were as good as -Bible-words; ne'er a word o' repining; a' about God being our -father, and that we mun bear patiently whate'er he sends.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Don ye think he's th' masters' father, too? I'd be loth to -have 'em for brothers.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Eh, John! donna talk so; sure there's many and many a -master as good nor better than us.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'If you think so, tell me this. How comes it they're rich, and -we're poor? I'd like to know that. Han they done as they'd be -done by for us?'</p> - -<p class="i1">"But Wilson was no arguer—no speechifier, as he would have -called it. So Barton, seeing he was likely to have his own way, -went on—</p> - -<p class="i1">"'You'll say, at least many a one does, they'n getten capital, -an' we'n getten none. I say, our labour's our capital, and we -ought to draw interest on that. They get interest on their -capital somehow a' this time, while ourn is lying idle, else how -could they all live as they do? Besides, there's many on 'em as -had naught to begin wi'; there's Carsons, and Duncombes, and -Mengies, and many another as comed into Manchester with -clothes to their backs, and that were all, and now they're worth -their tens of thousands, a' gotten out of our labour; why the very -land as fetched but sixty pound twenty years agone is now worth -six hundred, and that, too, is owing to our labour; but look at yo, -and see me, and poor Davenport yonder. Whatten better are we? -They'n screwed us down to th' lowest peg, in order to make their -great big fortunes, and build their great big houses, and we—why, -we're just clemming, many and many of us. Can you say there's -naught wrong in this?'"</p></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[Pg 114]</a></span></p> - -<p class="i1">These poor fellows, according to the story, took care -of Davenport till he died in that loathsome cellar, and -then had him decently buried. They knew not how -soon his fate would overtake them, and they would then -want friends. In the mean time, while disease and -starvation were doing their work among the poor operatives, -their masters were lolling on sofas, and, in the -recreations of an evening, spending enough to relieve a -hundred families. Perhaps, also, the masters' wives -were concocting petitions on the subject of negro-slavery—that -kind of philanthropy costing very little -money or self-sacrifice.</p> - -<p class="i1">It may be said that the story of "Mary Barton" is a -fiction; but it must not be forgotten that it is the work -of an English writer, and that its scenes are professedly -drawn from the existing realities of life in Manchester, -where the author resided. In the same work, we find -an account of an historical affair, which is important in -this connection, as showing how the wail of the oppressed -is treated by the British aristocracy:—</p> - -<div class="bq"> - -<p class="i1">"For three years past, trade had been getting worse and worse, -and the price of provisions higher and higher. This disparity -between the amount of the earnings of the working classes, and -the price of their food, occasioned, in more cases than could well -be imagined, disease and death. Whole families went through a -gradual starvation. They only wanted a Dante to record their -sufferings. And yet even his words would fall short of the awful -truth; they could only present an outline of the tremendous facts -of the destitution that surrounded thousands upon thousands in -the terrible years 1839, 1840, and 1841. Even philanthropists, -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[Pg 115]</a></span> -who had studied the subject, were forced to own themselves perplexed -in the endeavour to ascertain the real causes of the -misery; the whole matter was of so complicated a nature, that -it became next to impossible to understand it thoroughly. It -need excite no surprise, then, to learn that a bad feeling between -working men and the upper classes became very strong in this -season of privation. The indigence and sufferings of the operatives -induced a suspicion in the minds of many of them, that -their legislators, their managers, their employers, and even their -ministers of religion, were, in general, their oppressors and -enemies; and were in league for their prostration and enthralment. -The most deplorable and enduring evil that arose out of -the period of commercial depression to which I refer, was this -feeling of alienation between the different classes of society. It -is so impossible to describe, or even faintly to picture, the state -of distress which prevailed in the town at that time, that I will -not attempt it; and yet I think again that surely, in a Christian -land, it was not known even so feebly as words could tell it, or -the more happy and fortunate would have thronged with their -sympathy and their aid. In many instances the sufferers wept -first, and then they cursed. Their vindictive feelings exhibited -themselves in rabid politics. And when I hear, as I have heard, -of the sufferings and privations of the poor, of provision-shops -where ha'porths of tea, sugar, butter, and even flour, were sold -to accommodate the indigent—of parents sitting in their clothes -by the fireside during the whole night, for seven weeks together, -in order that their only bed and bedding might be reserved for -the use of their large family—of others sleeping upon the cold -hearth-stone for weeks in succession, without adequate means of -providing themselves with food or fuel (and this in the depth of -winter)—of others being compelled to fast for days together, uncheered -by any hope of better fortune, living, moreover, or rather -starving, in a crowded garret or damp cellar, and gradually sinking -under the pressure of want and despair into a premature -grave; and when this has been confirmed by the evidence of -their care-worn looks, their excited feelings, and their desolate -homes—can I wonder that many of them, in such times of -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[Pg 116]</a></span> -misery and destitution, spoke and acted with ferocious precipitation!</p> - -<p class="i1">"An idea was now springing up among the operatives, that -originated with the Chartists, but which came at last to be cherished -as a darling child by many and many a one. They could -not believe that government knew of their misery; they rather -chose to think it possible that men could voluntarily assume the -office of legislators for a nation, ignorant of its real state; as who -should make domestic rules for the pretty behaviour of children, -without caring to know that these children had been kept for -days without food. Besides, the starving multitudes had heard -that the very existence of their distress had been denied in Parliament; -and though they felt this strange and inexplicable, yet -the idea that their misery had still to be revealed in all its -depths, and that then some remedy would be found, soothed their -aching hearts, and kept down their rising fury.</p> - -<p class="i1">"So a petition was framed, and signed by thousands in the -bright spring days of 1839, imploring Parliament to hear witnesses -who could testify to the unparalleled destitution of the -manufacturing districts. Nottingham, Sheffield, Glasgow, Manchester, -and many other towns, were busy appointing delegates -to convey this petition, who might speak, not merely of what -they had seen and had heard, but from what they had borne and -suffered. Life-worn, gaunt, anxious, hunger-stamped men were -those delegates."</p></div> - -<p class="i1">The delegates went in a body to London, and applied -at the Parliament House for permission to present -their petition upon the subject nearest their hearts—the -question of life and death. They were haughtily -denied a hearing. The assemblage of the "best gentlemen -in Europe," were, perhaps, discussing the best -means of beautifying their parks and extending their -estates. What had these rose-pink legislators to do -with the miseries of the base-born rabble—the soil-serfs -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[Pg 117]</a></span> -of their chivalric Norman ancestors? The delegates -returned in despair to their homes, to meet their -starving relatives and friends, and tell them there was -not a ray of hope. In France such a rejection of a -humble petition from breadless working-men would -have been followed by a revolution. In Great Britain -the labourers seem to have the inborn submission of -hereditary slaves. Though they feel the iron heel of -the aristocracy upon their necks, and see their families -starving around them, they delay, and still delay, -taking that highway to freedom—manly and united -rebellion.</p> - -<p class="i1">The workmen employed in the factories are subjected -to the cruel treatment of overlookers, who have -the power of masters, and use it as tyrants. If an -operative does not obey an order, he is not merely -reproved, but kicked and beaten as a slave. He dare -not resent, for if he did he would be turned forth to -starve. Such being the system under which he works, -the operative has the look and air of a degraded Helot. -Most of them are unhealthy, destitute of spirit, and -enfeebled by toil and privation. The hand-loom -weavers, who are numerous in some districts, are the -most miserable of the labourers, being hardly able to -earn scant food and filthy shelter.</p> - -<p class="i1">The hundreds of thousands of tender age employed in -all the various branches of manufacture are in all -cases the children of the poor. When the father goes -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[Pg 118]</a></span> -to the workhouse he has no longer any control over his -children. They are at the mercy of the parish, and -may be separated, apprenticed to all sorts of masters, -and treated, to all intents and purposes, as slaves. -The invention of labour-saving machinery has brought -the services of children into great demand in the manufacturing -towns. They may be <i>bought</i> at the workhouse -at a cheap rate, and then they must trust to God -alone for their future welfare. There is scarcely an -instance in which the law ever interferes for their protection. -The masters and overlookers are allowed to -beat their younger operatives with impunity.</p> - -<p class="i1">The following evidence contains instances of a treatment -totally barbarous, and such are very frequent, -according to the report of the commissioners:—</p> - -<div class="bq"> - -<p class="i1">"When she was a child, too little to put on her ain claithes, -the overlooker used to beat her till she screamed again. Gets -many a good beating and swearing. They are all very ill-used. -The overseer carries a strap. Has been licked four or five -times. The boys are often severely strapped; the girls sometimes -get a clout. The mothers often complain of this. Has -seen the boys have black and blue marks after strapping. Three -weeks ago the overseer struck him in the eye with his clenched -fist, so as to force him to be absent two days. Another overseer -used to beat him with his fist, striking him so that his arm was -black and blue. Has often seen the workers beat cruelly. Has -seen the girls strapped; but the boys were beat so that they fell -to the floor in the course of the beating with a rope with four -tails, called a cat. Has seen the boys black and blue, crying for -mercy.</p> - -<p class="i1">"The other night a little girl came home cruelly beaten; -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[Pg 119]</a></span> -wished to go before a magistrate, but was advised not. That -man is always strapping the children. The boys are badly used. -They are whipped with a strap till they cry out and shed tears; -has seen the managers kick and strike them. Has suffered much -from the slubbers' ill treatment. It is the practice of the slubbers -to go out and amuse themselves for an hour or so, and then -make up their work in the same time, which is a great fatigue to -the piecers, keeping them 'on the run' for an hour and a half -together, besides kicking and beating them for doing it badly, -when they were so much tired. The slubbers are all brutes to -the children; they get intoxicated, and then kick them about; -they are all alike. Never complained to the master; did once to -his mother, and she gave him a halfpenny not to mind it, to go -back to work like a good boy. Sometimes he used to be surly, -and would not go, and then she always had that tale about the -halfpenny; sometimes he got the halfpenny, and sometimes not.</p> - -<p class="i1">"He has seen the other children beaten. The little girls standing -at the drawing-head. They would run home and fetch their -mothers sometimes.</p> - -<p class="i1">"Hears the spinners swear very bad at their piecers, and sees -'em lick 'em sometimes; some licks 'em with a strap, some licks -'em with hand; some straps is as long as your arm, some is very -thick, and some thin; don't know where they get the straps. -There is an overlooker in the room; he very seldom comes in; -they won't allow 'em if they knows of it. (Child volunteered -the last observation. Asked how she knew that the overlookers -would not allow the spinners to lick the little hands; answers, -'Because I've heard 'em say so.') Girls cry when struck -with straps; only one girl struck yesterday; they very seldom -strike 'em.</p> - -<p class="i1">"There is an overlooker in the room, who is a man. The -doffer always scolds her when she is idle, not the overlooker; the -doffer is a girl. Sometimes sees her hit the little hands; always -hits them with her hands. Sometimes the overlooker hits the -little hands; always with her hand when she does. Her mother -is a throstle-spinner, in her room. The overseer scolds the little -hands; says he'll bag 'em; sometimes swears at 'em. Sometimes -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[Pg 120]</a></span> -overseer beats a 'little hand;' when he does it, it is always -with his open hand; it is not so very hard; sometimes on the -face, sometimes on the back. He never beats her. Some on 'em -cries when they are beat, some doesn't. He beats very seldom; -didn't beat any yesterday, nor last week, nor week before; -doesn't know how long it is ago since she has seen him strike a -girl. If our little helper gets careless we may have occasion to -correct her a bit. Some uses 'em very bad; beats 'em; but only -with the hand; and pulls their ears. Some cry, but not often. -Ours is a good overlooker, but has heard overlookers curse very -bad. The women weavers themselves curse. Has never cursed -herself. Can say so honestly from her heart.</p> - -<p class="i1">"Drawers are entirely under the control of the weavers, said a -master; they must obey their employer; if they do not they are -sometimes beat and sometimes discharged. <i>I chastise them occasionally -with alight whip</i>; do not allow it by my workmen; sometimes -they are punished with a fool's-cap, sometimes with a <i>cane</i>, -but not severely."</p> - -<p class="i1">"William M. Beath, of Mr. Owen's New Lanark Mills, deposed: -'Thinks things improved under Mr. Owen's management. -Recollects seeing children beaten very severe at times. He himself -has been beaten very sore, so bad that his head was not in -its useful state for several days. Recollects, in particular, one -boy—James Barry—who was very unfond of working in the mill, -who was always beaten to his work by his father, with his hands -and feet; the boy was then beaten with a strap by the overseers, -for being too late, and not being willing to come. Has seen him -so beaten by Robert Shirley, William Watson, and Robert Sim. -The boy, James Barry, never came properly to manhood. It was -always conjectured that he had too many beatings. He was the -cruellest beat boy ever I saw there. There was a boy, whose -name he does not recollect, and while he (W. M. B.) was working as -a weaver at Lanark, having left the mill, and his death was attributed -by many to a kick in the groin from Peter Gall, an overseer. -Does not recollect whether the ill usage of the children -above alluded to took place in Mr. Owen's time, or before he -came; but there was certainly a great improvement, in many respects, -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[Pg 121]</a></span> -under his management, particularly in cleanliness, shorter -hours, and the establishment of schools. Has been three years -employed in his present situation. Has two children of his own -in the mill. Does not believe (and he has every opportunity of -knowing) that the children of this mill have been tampered with -by anybody, with a view to their testimony before the commissioners, -and that they are not afraid to tell the truth. He -himself would, on account of his children, like a little shorter -hours and a little less wages; they would then have a better -opportunity of attending a night-school.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"Henry Dunn, aged twenty-seven, a spinner: 'Has been five -years on this work. Went at eight years of age to Mr. Dunn's -mill at Duntochar; that was a country situation, and much -healthier than factories situated in town. They worked then -from six to eight; twelve hours and a half for work, and one -hour and a half for meals. Liked that mill as well as any he -ever was in. Great attention was paid to the cleanliness and -comfort of the people. The wages were lower there at that time -than they were at Glasgow. After leaving Duntochar, he came -into town to see Mr. Humphrey's, (now Messrs. Robert Thompson,) -which was at that time one continued scene of oppression. -A system of cruelty prevailed there at that time, which was confined -almost entirely to that work. The wheels were very small, -and young men and women of the ages of seventeen and eighteen -were the spinners. There was a tenter to every flat, and he was -considered as a sort of whipper-in, to force the children to extra -exertion. Has seen wounds inflicted upon children by tenters, -by Alexander Drysdale, among others, with a belt or stick, or -the first thing that came uppermost. Saw a kick given by the -above-mentioned Alexander Drysdale, which broke two ribs of a -little boy. Helped to carry the boy down to a surgeon. The -boy had been guilty of some very trifling offence, such as calling -names to the next boy. But the whole was the same; all the -tenters were alike. Never saw any ill-treatment of the children -at this mill. Mr. Stevenson is a very fine man. The machinery -in the spinning department is quite well boxed in—it could not be -better; but the cards might be more protected with great advantage. -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[Pg 122]</a></span> -It is very hot in winter, but he can't tell how hot. There -is no thermometer.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"Ellen Ferrier, aged thirteen; carries bobbins: 'Has been -three years in this mill. Was one year before in another mill in -this town; doesn't like neither of them very well, because she -was always very tired from working from half-past five o'clock -in the morning until half-past seven, with only two intervals of -half an hour each. She sometimes falls asleep now. She -worked formerly in the lower flat. When Charles Kennedy was -the overseer he licked us very bad, beat our heads with his hand, -and kicked us very bad when the ends were down. He was aye -licking them, and my gademother (stepmother) has two or three -times complained to Mr. Shanks, (senior,) and Mr. S. always told -him about it, but he never minded. Does not know what he left -the mill for. A good many folks went away from this mill just -for Kennedy. Can read; cannot write.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"Mary Scott, aged fourteen: 'Has been here two years. Was -here with Charles Kennedy. When he has seen us just speaking -to one another, he struck us with his hands and with his feet. He -beat us when he saw any of the ends down. Has seen him strike -Ellen Ferrier (the last witness) very often, just with his hands; -and has seen him strike Betty Sutherland; can't tell how often, -but it was terrible often.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"Euphemia Anderson, aged twenty: 'Has been three years at -this mill; has been in different mills since she was seven years -old. About six years ago she was taken ill with pains in the -legs, and remained ill for three years. I wasn't able to stand. -Thinks it was the standing so long that made her ill. She is now -again quite in good health, except that she is sair-footed sometimes. -They have seats to sit down upon. When the work is -bad, we cannot get time to sit down. When the flax is good we -have a good deal of time. Has never seen children beat by -Charles Kennedy, but has heard talk of it; has often heard them -complain of him, never of anybody else. Can read; cannot -write. Never went to a school; never had muckle time. She -would give up some of her wages to have shorter hours. Her -usual dinner is broth and potatoes.'"</p></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[Pg 123]</a></span></p> - -<p class="i1">The next evidence is particularly valuable, as it -came from a person who had left the factory work; -and having an independent business, he may be presumed -to have spoken without fear or favour:—</p> - -<div class="bq"> - -<p class="i1">"William Campbell, aged thirty-seven: 'Is a grocer, carrying -on business in Belfast. Was bred up a cotton-spinner. Went -first as a piecer to his father, who was a spinner at Mr. Hussy's -mill, Graham Square, Glasgow, and afterward to several mills in -this place, among which was Mr. John McCrackan's, where he -was, altogether, piecer and spinner between four and five years, -(1811-1818.) There was a regulation at that time there, that -every hand should be fined if five minutes too late at any working -hour in the morning and after meals—the younger 5<i>d.</i>, which -amounted to the whole wages of some of the lesser ones; the -older hands were fined as high as 10<i>d.</i> The treatment of the -children at that time was very cruel. Has seen Robert Martin, -the manager, continually beating the children—with his hands -generally, sometimes with his clenched fist. Has often seen his -sister Jane, then about fourteen, struck by him; and he used to -pinch her ears till the blood came, and pull her hair. The faults -were usually very trifling. If on coming in he should find any -girl combing her hair, that was an offence for which he would -beat her severely, and he would do so if he heard them talking -to one another. He never complained of the ill-usage of his -sister, because he believed if he did, his father and two sisters, -who were both employed in the mill, would have been immediately -dismissed. A complaint was made by the father of a little -girl, against Martin, for beating a child. Mr. Ferrer, the police -magistrate, admonished him. He was a hot-headed, fiery man, -and when he saw the least fault, or what he conceived to be a -fault, he just struck them at once. Does not recollect any child -getting a lasting injury from any beating here. The treatment -of the children at the mill was the only thing which could be -called cruelty which he had witnessed. One great hardship to -people employed in the factories is the want of good water, -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[Pg 124]</a></span> -which exists in most of them. At only one of the mills which he -worked at was there water such as could be drunk brought into -the flats, and that was Mr. Holdsworth's mill, Anderson, Glasgow. -From what he recollects of his own and his sister's feelings, -he considers the hours which were then and are still commonly -occupied in actual labour—viz. twelve hours and a half -per day—longer than the health of children can sustain, and also -longer than will admit of any time being reserved in the evening -for their instruction.'"</p></div> - -<p class="i1">These instances of steady, systematic cruelty, in the -treatment of children, go far beyond any thing recorded -of slave-drivers in other countries. If an American -overseer was to whip a slave to death, an awful groan -would express the horror of English lords and ladies. -But in the factories of Great Britain we have helpless -children not only kicked and beaten, but liable at any -moment to receive a mortal wound from the billy-roller -of an exasperated slubber. Here is more evidence, -which we cannot think will flag in interest:—</p> - -<div class="bq"> - -<p class="i1">"John Gibb, eleven years old, solemnly sworn, deposes, 'that -he has been about three years a piecer in one of the spinning-rooms; -that the heat and confinement makes his feet sair, and -makes him sick and have headaches, and he often has a stitch in -his side; that he is now much paler than he used to be; that he -receives 4<i>s.</i> 6<i>d.</i> a week, which he gives to his mother; that he is -very desirous of short hours, that he might go to school more than -he can do at present; that the spinners often lick him, when he -is in fault, with taws of leather.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"Alexander Wylie, twenty-six years old, solemnly sworn, deposes, -'that he is a spinner in one of the spinning departments; -that most of the spinners keep taws to preserve their authority, -but he does not; that he has seen them pretty severely whipped, -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[Pg 125]</a></span> -when they were in fault; that he has seen piecers beat by the -overseers, even with their clenched fists; that he has seen both -boys and girls so treated; that he has seen John Ewan beating -his little piecers severely, even within these few weeks; that -when he had a boy as a piecer, he beat him even more severely -than the girls; that he never saw a thermometer in his flat, till -to-day, when, in consequence of a bet, the heat was tried, and it -was found to be 72°, but that they are spinning coarser cotton in -his flat than in some of the other flats, where greater heat is -requisite.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"Bell Sinclair, thirteen years old, solemnly sworn, deposes, -'that she has been about four years in the same flat with John -Gibb, a preceding witness; that all the spinners in the apartment -keep a leather strap, or taws, with which to punish the -piecers, both boys and girls—the young ones chiefly when they -are negligent; that she has been often punished by Francis Gibb -and by Robert Clarke, both with taws and with their hands, and -with his open cuff; that he has licked her on the side of the head -and on her back with his hands, and with the strap on her back -and arms; that she was never much the worse of the beating, -although she has sometimes cried and shed tears when Gibb or -Clarke was hitting her sair.' Deposes that she cannot write.</p> - -<p class="i1">"Mary Ann Collins, ten years old, solemnly sworn, deposes, -'that she has been a year in one of the spinning-rooms in which -John Ewan is a spinner; that yesterday he gave her a licking -with the taws; that all the spinners keep taws except Alexander -Wylie; that he beat her once before till she grat; that she has -sometimes a pain in her breast, and was absent yesterday on that -account.' Deposes that she cannot write.</p> - -<p class="i1">"Daniel McGinty, twenty-two years old, solemnly sworn, -deposes, 'that he has been nearly two years a spinner here; -that he notices the piecers frequently complain of bad health; -that he was a petitioner for short hours, so that the people might -have more time for their education as well as for health; that he -had a strap to punish the children when they were in fault, but -he has not had one for some time, and the straps are not so common -now as they were formerly; that he and the other spinners -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[Pg 126]</a></span> -prefer giving the piecers a lick on the side of the head with their -hands, than to use a strap at all; that he has seen instances of -piecers being knocked down again and again, by a blow from the -hand, in other mills, but not since he came to this one; that he -has been knocked down himself in Barrowfield mill, by Lauchlin -McWharry, the spinner to whom he was a piecer.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"Isabella Stewart, twenty-two years old, solemnly sworn, deposes, -'that she has been four years at this mill, and several -years at other mills; that she is very hoarse, and subject to -cough, and her feet and ankles swell in the evening; that she is -very anxious for short hours—thirteen hours are real lang hours—but -she has nothing else to find fault with; that Alexander -Simpson straps the young workers, and even gives her, or any of -the workers, if they are too late, a lick with the strap across the -shoulders; that he has done this within a week or two; that he -sometimes gives such a strap as to hurt her, but it is only when -he is in a passion.' Deposes that 'she cannot write. In the -long hours they canna get time to write nor to do nae thing.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"James Patterson, aged sixty years, solemnly sworn, deposes, -'that he is an overseer in Messrs. James and William Brown's -flax-spinning mill, at Dundee, and has been in their employment -for about seven years; that he was previously at the spinning -mill at Glamis for twelve years, and there lost his right hand -and arm, caught by the belt of the wheels, in the preparing -floor; that he is in the reeling flat, with the women, who are -tired and sleepy; one of them—Margaret Porter—at present in -bed, merely from standing so long for a fortnight past; that it -would be God's blessing for every one to have shorter hours; -that he has been about forty years in spinning-mills, and has -seen the young people so lashed with a leather belt that they -could hardly stand: that at Trollick, a mill now given up, he has -seen them lashed, skin naked, by the manager, James Brown; -that at Moniferth he has seen them taken out of bed, when they -did not get up in time, and lashed with horsewhips to their work, -carrying their clothes, while yet naked, to the work, in their arms -with them.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"William Roe, (examined at his own request:) 'I am constable -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[Pg 127]</a></span> -of Radford. I was in the army. I went to work with Mr. -Wilson in 1825. I had been with Strutts, at Belper, before -that. The reason I left was this: I was told the overlooker was -leathering one of my boys. I had two sons there. The overlooker -was Crooks. I found him strapping the boy, and I struck -him. I did not stop to ask whether the boy had done any thing. -I had heard of his beating him before. Smith came up, and said -I should work there no more till I had seen Mr. Wilson. My -answer was, that neither I nor mine should ever work more for -such a mill as that was. It was but the day before I took the -boy to Smith, to show him that he had no time to take his victuals -till he came out at twelve. There was no satisfaction, but -he laughed at it. That was the reason I took the means into my -own hands. Crooks threatened to fetch a warrant for me, but -did not. I told him the master durst not let him. The boy had -been doing nothing, only could not keep up his work enough to -please them. I left the mill, and took away my sons. One was -ten, the other was between eight and nine. They went there -with me. The youngest was not much past eight when he went. -I heard no more of it. I put all my reasons down in a letter to -Mr. Wilson, but I heard no more of it. Smith was sent away -afterward, but I don't know why. I have heard it was for different -ill-usages. Crooks is there now. Hogg was the overlooker -in my room. I have often seen him beat a particular boy who -was feeding cards. One day he pulled his ear till he pulled it -out of the socket, and it bled very much. I mean he tore the -bottom of the ear from the head. I went to him and said, if that -boy was mine I'd give him a better threshing than ever he had -in his life. It was reported to Mr. S. Wilson, and he told me I -had better mind my own business, and not meddle with the overlookers. -I never heard that the parents complained. Mr. S. Wilson -is dead now. Mr. W. Wilson said to me afterward, I had -made myself very forward in meddling with the overlookers' business. -I was to have come into the warehouse at Nottingham, but -in consequence of my speaking my mind I lost the situation. I -never had any complaint about my work while I was there, nor -at Mr. Strutt's. I left Mr. Strutt's in hopes to better myself. I -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[Pg 128]</a></span> -came as a machine smith. I went back to Mr. Strutt's, at Milford, -after I left Wilson, for two years. The men never had more -than twenty-five minutes for their dinner, and no extra pay for -stopping there. I dressed the top cards, and ground them. I -never heard that Mr. Wilson proposed to stop the breakfast hour, -and that the hands wished to go on. I don't think such a thing -could be. Whilst I worked there we always went in at half-past -five, and worked till nigh half-past seven. We were never paid -a farthing overtime. At Strutt's, if ever we worked an hour -overtime, we were paid an hour and a half. I have seen Smith -take the girls by the hair with one hand, and slap them in -the face with the other; big and little, it made no difference. -He worked there many years before he was turned away. He -works in the mill again now, but not as an overlooker. I -never knew of any complaint to the magistrate against Smith. -I had 12<i>s.</i> when I was there for standing wages. It was about -nine in the morning my boy was beat. I think it was in the -middle of the day the boy's ear was pulled. The work was -very severe there while it lasted. A boy generally had four -breakers and finisher-cards to mind. Such a boy might mind -six when he had come on to eleven or twelve; I mean finishers. -A boy can mind from three to four breakers. Any way they had -not time to get their victuals. I don't know what the present -state of the mill is as to beating. Men will not complain to the -magistrates while work is so scarce, and they are liable to be -turned out; and if they go to the parish, why there it is, 'Why, -you had work, why did you not stay at it?'"</p></div> - -<p class="i1">Robert Blincoe, a small manufacturer, once an apprentice -to a cotton mill, and one who had seen and -suffered much in factories, was sworn and examined by -Dr. Hawkins, on the 18th of May, 1833. In the evidence, -which follows, it will be noted that most of the -sufferers mentioned were parish children, without protectors -of any kind:<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[Pg 129]</a></span>—</p> - -<div class="bq"> - -<p class="i1">"'Do you know where you were born?' 'No; I only know -that I came out of St. Pancras parish, London.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Do you know the name of your parents?' 'No. I used to -be called, when young, Robert Saint; but when I received my -indentures I was called Robert Blincoe; and I have gone by that -name ever since.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'What age are you?' 'Near upon forty, according to my -indentures."</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Have you no other means of knowing your age but what -you find in your indentures?' 'No, I go by that.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Do you work at a cotton mill?' 'Not now. I was bound -apprentice to a cotton mill for fourteen years, from St. Pancras -parish; then I got my indentures. I worked five or six years -after, at different mills, but now I have got work of my own. I -rent power from a mill in Stockport, and have a room to myself. -My business is a sheet wadding manufacturer.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Why did you leave off working at the cotton mills?' 'I -got tired of it, the system is so bad; and I had saved a few -pounds. I got deformed there; my knees began to bend in when -I was fifteen; you see how they are, (showing them.) There are -many, many far worse than me at Manchester.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Can you take exercise with ease?' 'A very little makes -me sweat in walking. I have not the strength of those who are -straight.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Have you ever been in a hospital, or under doctors, for your -knees or legs?' 'Never in a hospital, or under doctors for that, -but from illness from over-work I have been. When I was near -Nottingham there were about eighty of us together, boys and -girls, all 'prenticed out from St. Pancras parish, London, to cotton -mills; many of us used to be ill, but the doctors said it was -only for want of kitchen physic, and want of more rest.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Had you any accidents from machinery?' 'No, nothing to -signify much; I have not myself, but I saw, on the 6th of March -last, a man killed by machinery at Stockport; he was smashed, -and he died in four or five hours; I saw him while the accident -took place; he was joking with me just before; it was in my own -room. I employ a poor sore cripple under me, who could not -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[Pg 130]</a></span> -easily get work anywhere else. A young man came good-naturedly -from another room to help my cripple, and he was accidentally -drawn up by the strap, and was killed. I have known -many such accidents take place in the course of my life.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Recollect a few.' 'I cannot recollect the exact number, but -I have known several: one was at Lytton Mill, at Derbyshire; -another was the master of a factory at Staley Bridge, of the -name of Bailey. Many more I have known to receive injuries, -such as the loss of a limb. There is plenty about Stockport that -is going about now with one arm; they cannot work in the -mills, but they go about with jackasses and such like. One girl, -Mary Richards, was made a cripple, and remains so now, when I -was in Lowdham mill, near Nottingham. She was lapped up by -a shaft underneath the drawing-frame. That is now an old-fashioned -machinery.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Have you any children?' 'Three.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Do you send them to factories?' 'No. I would rather -have them transported. In the first place, they are standing -upon one leg, lifting up one knee a greater part of the day, keeping -the ends up from the spindle. I consider that that employment -makes many cripples; then there is the heat and dust; -then there are so many different forms of cruelty used upon -them; then they are so liable to have their fingers catched, and -to suffer other accidents from the machinery; then the hours is -so long that I have seen them tumble down asleep among the -straps and machinery, and so get cruelly hurt; then I would not -have a child of mine there, because there is not good morals; -there is such a lot of them together that they learn mischief.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'What do you do with your children?' 'My eldest of thirteen -has been to school, and can teach me. She now stays at -home, and helps her mother in the shop. She is as tall as me, -and is very heavy. Very different from what she would have -been if she had worked in a factory. My two youngest go to -school, and are both healthy. I send them every day two miles -to school. I know from experience the ills of confinement.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'What are the forms of cruelty that you spoke of just now as -being practised upon children in factories?' 'I have seen the -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[Pg 131]</a></span> -time when two hand-vices, of a pound weight each, more or less, -have been screwed to my ears at Lytton mill, in Derbyshire. -Here are the scars still remaining behind my ears. Then three -or four of us have been hung at once to a cross-beam above the -machinery, hanging by our hands, without shirts or stockings. -Mind, we were apprentices, without father or mother, to take care -of us; I don't say they often do that now. Then, we used to -stand up, in a skip, without our shirts, and be beat with straps -or sticks; the skip was to prevent us from running away from -the strap.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Do you think such things are done now in Manchester?' -'No, not just the same things; but I think the children are still -beaten by overlookers; not so much, however, in Manchester, -where justice is always at hand, as in country places. Then they -used to tie on a twenty-eight pounds weight, (one or two at once,) -according to our size, to hang down on our backs, with no shirts -on. I have had them myself. Then they used to tie one leg up -to the faller, while the hands were tied behind. I have a book -written about these things, describing my own life and sufferings. -I will send it to you.'<a name="FNanchor_88_88" id="FNanchor_88_88"></a> -<a href="#Footnote_88_88" class="fnanchor">[88]</a></p> - -<p class="i1">"'Do the masters know of these things, or were they done only -by the overlookers?' 'The masters have often seen them, and -have been assistants in them.'</p></div> - -<p class="i1">The work is so protracted that the children are exhausted, -and many become crippled from standing too -long in unhealthy positions:—</p> - -<div class="bq"> - -<p class="i1">"John Wright, steward in the silk factory of Messrs. Brinsley -and Shatwell, examined by Mr. Tufnell.</p> - -<p class="i1">"'What are the effects of the present system of labour?' 'From -my earliest recollections, I have found the effects to be awfully -detrimental to the well-being of the operative; I have observed, -frequently, children carried to factories, unable to walk, and that -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[Pg 132]</a></span> -entirely owing to excessive labour and confinement. The degradation -of the work-people baffles all description; frequently have -two of my sisters been obliged to be assisted to the factory and -home again, until by and by they could go no longer, being totally -crippled in their legs. And in the next place, I remember -some ten or twelve years ago working in one of the largest firms -in Macclesfield, (Messrs. Baker and Pearson,) with about twenty-five -men, where they were scarce one-half fit for his majesty's -service. Those that are straight in their limbs are stunted in -their growth, much inferior to their fathers in point of strength. -3dly. Through excessive labour and confinement there is often a -total loss of appetite; a kind of languor steals over the whole -frame, enters to the very core, saps the foundation of the best constitution, -and lays our strength prostrate in the dust. In the -fourth place, by protracted labour there is an alarming increase -of cripples in various parts of this town, which has come under -my own observation and knowledge.'"</p></div> - -<p class="i1">Young sufferers gave the following evidence to the -commissioners:—</p> - -<div class="bq"> - -<p class="i1">"'Many a time has been so fatigued that she could hardly take -off her clothes at night, or put them on in the morning; her mother -would be raging at her, because when she sat down she could -not get up again through the house.' 'Looks on the long hours -as a great bondage.' 'Thinks they are not much better than the -Israelites in Egypt, and their life is no pleasure to them.' 'When -a child, was so tired that she could seldom eat her supper, and -never awoke of herself.'—'Are the hours to be shortened?' earnestly -demanded one of these girls of the commissioner who was -examining her, 'for they are too long.'"</p></div> - -<p class="i1">The truth of the account given by the children of -the fatigue they experience by the ordinary labour of -the factory is confirmed by the testimony of their -parents. In general, the representation made by parents -is like the following: -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[Pg 133]</a></span>—</p> - -<div class="bq"> - -<p class="i1">"'Her children come home so tired and worn out they can -hardly eat their supper.' 'Has often seen his daughter come -home in the evening so fatigued that she would go to bed supper-less,' -'Has seen the young workers absolutely oppressed, and -unable to sit down or rise up; this has happened to his own -children.'</p></div> - -<p class="i1">These statements are confirmed by the evidence of -the adult operatives. The depositions of the witnesses -of this class are to the effect, that "the younger workers -are greatly fatigued;" that "children are often very -severe (unwilling) in the mornings;" that "children are -quite tired out;" that "the long hours exhaust the -workers, especially the young ones, to such a degree -that they can hardly walk home;" that "the young -workers are absolutely oppressed, and so tired as to be -unable to sit down or rise up;" that "younger workers -are so tired they often cannot raise their hands to their -head;" that "all the children are very keen for short -hours, thinking them now such bondage that they might -as well be in a prison;" that "the children, when engaged -in their regular work, are often exhausted beyond what -can be expressed;" that "the sufferings of the children -absolutely require that the hours should be shortened."</p> - -<p class="i1">The depositions of the overlookers are to the same -effect, namely, that "though the children may not complain, -yet that they seem tired and sleepy, and happy -to get out of doors to play themselves. That, "the -work over-tires the workers in general." "Often sees -the children very tired and stiff-like." "Is entirely of -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[Pg 134]</a></span> -opinion, after real experience, that the hours of labour -are far too long for the children, for their health and -education; has from twenty-two to twenty-four boys -under his charge, from nine to about fourteen years old, -and they are generally much tired at night, always -anxious, asking if it be near the mill-stopping." "Never -knew a single worker among the children that did not -complain of the long hours, which prevent them from -getting education, and from getting health in the open -air."</p> - -<p class="i1">The managers in like manner state, that "the labour -exhausts the children;" that "the workers are tired in -the evening;" that "children inquire anxiously for the -hour of stopping." And admissions to the same effect, -on the part of managers and proprietors, will be found -in every part of the Scotch depositions.</p> - -<p class="i1">In the north-eastern district the evidence is equally -complete that the fatigue of the young workers is great.</p> - -<div class="bq"> - -<p class="i1">"'I have known the children,' says one witness, 'to hide themselves -in the store among the wool, so that they should not go -home when the work was over, when we have worked till ten or -eleven. I have seen six or eight fetched out of the store and beat -home; beat out of the mill however; I do not know why they -should hide themselves, unless it was that they were too tired to -go home.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Many a one I have had to rouse in the last hour, when the -work is very slack, from fatigue.' 'The children were very much -jaded, especially when we worked late at night.' 'The children -bore the long hours very ill indeed.' 'Exhausted in body and -depressed in mind by the length of the hours and the height of -the temperature.' 'I found, when I was an overlooker, that, after -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[Pg 135]</a></span> -the children from eight to twelve years had worked eight, nine, -or ten hours, they were nearly ready to faint; some were asleep; -some were only kept to work by being spoken to, or by a little -chastisement, to make them jump up. I was sometimes obliged -to chastise them when they were almost fainting, and it hurt my -feelings; then they would spring up and work pretty well for -another hour; but the last two or three hours were my hardest -work, for they then got so exhausted,' 'I have never seen fathers -carrying their children backward nor forward to the factories; -but I have seen children, apparently under nine, and from nine -to twelve years of age, going to the factories at five in the morning -almost asleep in the streets.'"</p> - -<p class="i1">"Ellen Cook, card-filler: 'I was fifteen last winter. I worked -on then sometimes day and night;—may be twice a week; I used -to earn 4<i>s.</i> a week; I used to go home to dinner; I was a feeder -then; I am a feeder still. We used to come at half-past eight at -night, and work all night till the rest of the girls came in the -morning; they would come at seven, I think. Sometimes we -worked on till half-past eight the next night, after we had been -working all the night before. We worked on meal-hours, except -at dinner. I have done that sometimes three nights a week, and -sometimes four nights. It was just as the overlooker chose. John -Singleton; he is overlooker now. Sometimes the slubbers would -work on all night too; not always. The pieceners would have to -stay all night then too. It was not often though that the slubbers -worked all night. We worked by ourselves. It was when one of the -boilers was spoiled; that was the reason we had to work all night. -The engine would not carry all the machines. I was paid for the -over-hours when we worked day and night; not for meal-hours. -We worked meal-hours, but were not paid for them. George Lee -is the slubber in this room. He has worked all night; not often, -I think; not above twice all the time we worked so; sometimes -he would not work at all. The pieceners would work too when -he did. They used to go to sleep, poor things! when they had -over-hours in the night. I think they were ready enough to sleep -sometimes, when they only worked in the daytime. I never was a -piecener; sometimes I go to help them when there are a good -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[Pg 136]</a></span> -many cardings. We have to get there by half-past five, in the -morning, now. The engine begins then. We don't go home to -breakfast. Sometimes we have a quarter of an hour; sometimes -twenty minutes; sometimes none. Them in the top-room have a -full half hour. We can't take half an hour if we like it; we should -get jawed; we should have such a noise, we should not hear the -last of it. The pieceners in this room (there were four) have the -same time as we do. In some of the rooms they forfeit them if -they are five minutes too late; they don't in this room. The -slubber often beats the pieceners. He has a strap, and wets it, -and gives them a strap over the hands, poor things! They cry -out ever so loud sometimes; I don't know how old they are.'"</p> - -<p class="i1">"James Simpson, aged twenty-four, solemnly sworn, deposes: -'That he has been about fifteen years in spinning mills; that he -has been nearly a year as an overseer in Mr. Kinmond's mill here, -and was dismissed on the 2d of May, for supporting, at a meeting -of the operatives, the Ten Hours Bill; that he was one of the persons -to receive subscriptions, in money, to forward the business, -and was dismissed, not on a regular pay-day, but on a Thursday -evening, by James Malcolm, manager, who told him that he was -dismissed for being a robber to his master in supporting the Ten -Hours Bill; that by the regulations of the mill he was entitled to -a week's notice, and that a week's wages were due to him at the -time, but neither sum has been paid; that he was two or three times -desired by the overseer to strike the boys if he saw them at any -time sitting, and has accordingly struck them with a strap, but never -so severely as to hurt them; that he is not yet employed.' And -the preceding deposition having been read over to him, he was -cautioned to be perfectly sure that it was true in all particulars, -as it would be communicated to the overseer named by him, and -might still be altered if, in any particular, he wished the change -of a word; but he repeated his assertion, on oath, that it was.</p> - -<p class="i1">"Ann Kennedy, sixteen years old, solemnly sworn, deposes: -'That she has been nearly a year a piecer to James McNish, a -preceding witness; that she has had swelled feet for about a year, -but she thinks them rather better; that she has a great deal of -pain, both in her feet and legs, so that she was afraid she would -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[Pg 137]</a></span> -not be able to go on with the work; that she thought it was owing -to the heat and the long standing on her feet; that it is a very -warm room she is in; that she sometimes looks at the thermometer -and sees it at 82°, or 84, or 86°; that all the people in the -room are very pale, and a good deal of them complaining.' Deposes, -that she cannot write.</p> - -<p class="i1">"Joseph Hurtley, aged forty-four: 'Is an overlooker of the -flax-dressing department. Has been there since the commencement. -Thinks, from what he observes, that the hours are too -long for children. Is led to think so from seeing the children -much exhausted toward the conclusion of the work. When he -came here first, and the children were all new to the work, he -found that by six o'clock they began to be drowsy and sleepy. -He took different devices to keep them awake, such as giving -them snuff, &c.; but this drowsiness partly wore off in time, from -habit, but he still observes the same with all the boys, (they are -all boys in his department,) and it continues with them for some -time. Does not know whether the children go to school in the -evening, but he thinks, from their appearance, that they would -be able to receive very little benefit from tuition.</p> - -<p class="i1">"'The occupation of draw-boys and girls to harness hand-loom -weavers, in their own shops, is by far the lowest and least sought -after of any connected with the manufacture of cotton. They are -poor, neglected, ragged, dirty children. They seldom are taught -any thing, and they work as long as the weaver, that is, as long -as they can see, standing on the same spot, always barefooted, on -an earthen, cold, damp floor, in a close, damp cellar, for thirteen -or fourteen hours a day.</p> - -<p class="i1">"'The power-loom dressers have all been hand-loom weavers, -but now prevent any more of their former companions from being -employed in their present business.</p> - -<p class="i1">"'They earn 2<i>s.</i> per week, and eat porridge, if their parents -can afford it; if not, potatoes and salt. They are, almost always, -between nine and thirteen years of age, and look healthy, though -some have been two or three years at the business; while the -weaver, for whom they draw, is looking pale, squalid, and underfed.</p></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[Pg 138]</a></span></p> - -<div class="bq"> - -<p class="i1">"'There are some hundreds of children thus employed in the -immediate neighbourhood of Glasgow.'"</p></div> - -<p class="i1">In Leicester, Mr. Drinkwater, of the Factory Commission, -found that great cruelty was practised upon -the children employed in some of the factories, by the -workmen called "slubbers," for whom the young creatures -act as piecers. Thomas Hough, a trimmer and -dyer, who had worked at Robinson's factory, deposed—</p> - -<div class="bq"> - -<p class="i1">"'The children were beaten at the factory; I complained, and -they were turned away. If I could have found the man at the -time there would have something happened, I am sure. I knew -the man; it was the slubber with whom they worked. His name -was Smith. Robinson had the factory then. I had my second -son in to Mr. Robinson, and stripped him, and showed him how -cruelly he had been beaten. There were nineteen bruises on his -back and posteriors. It was not with the billy-roller. It was -with the strap. He has often been struck with the billy-roller -at other times, over the head. Robinson rebuked the man, and -said he should not beat them any more. The children were beat -several times after that; and on account of my making frequent -complaints they turned the children away. They worked with -Smith till they left. Smith was of a nasty disposition, rather. -I would say of the slubbers generally, that they are a morose, ill-tempered -set. Their pay depends on the children's work. The -slubbers are often off drinking, and then they must work harder -to get the cardings up. I have seen that often. That is in the -lamb's-wool trade. Mr. Gamble is one of the most humane men -that ever lived, by all that I hear, and he will not allow the slubbers -to touch the children, on any pretence; if they will not -work, he turns them away. There gets what they call flies on -the cardings, that is, when the cardings are not properly pieced; -and it is a general rule to strike the children when that happens -too often. They allow so many ratched cardings, as they call -them, in a certain time; and if there are more, they call the -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[Pg 139]</a></span> -children round to the billy-gate and strap them. I have seen the -straps which some of them use; they are as big as the strap on -my son's lathe yonder, about an inch broad, (looking at it.) Oh, -it is bigger than this, (it measured 7-8ths.) It is about an inch. -I have seen the children lie down on the floor, and the slubber -strike on them as they lay. It depends entirely on the temper of -the man; sometimes they will only swear at them, sometimes -they will beat them. They will be severe with them at one time, -and very familiar at another, and run on with all sorts of debauched -language, and take indecent liberties with the feeders -and other big girls, before the children. That is the reason why -they call the factories hell-holes. There are some a good deal different. -The overlookers do not take much notice generally. They -pick out bullies, generally, for overlookers. It is very necessary -to have men of a determined temper to keep the hands in order.</p> - -<p class="i1">"'I have known my children get strapped two or three times -between a meal. At all times of the day. Sometimes they -would escape for a day or two together, just as it might happen. -Then they get strapped for being too late. They make the children -sum up, that is, pick up the waste, and clean up the billies -during the meal-time, so that the children don't get their time. -The cruelty complained of in the factories is chiefly from the -slubbers. There is nobody so closely connected with the children -as the slubbers. There is no other part of the machinery -with which I am acquainted where the pay of the man depends -on the work of the children so much.'"</p> - -<p class="i1">"Joseph Badder, a slubber, deposed: 'Slubbing and spinning -is very heavy. Those machines are thrown aside now. The -spinners did not like them, nor the masters neither. They did -not turn off such stuff as they expected. I always found it more -difficult to keep my piecers awake the last hours of a winter's -evening. I have told the master, and I have been told by him -that I did not half hide them. This was when they were working -from six to eight. I have known the children hide themselves -in the store among the wool, so that they should not go home -when the work was over, when we have worked till ten or eleven. -I have seen six or eight fetched out of the store and beat home; -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[Pg 140]</a></span> -beat out of the mill. However, I do not know why they should -hide themselves, unless it was they were too tired to go home. -My piecers had two hours for meals. Other parts of the work I -have known them work children, from seven to twelve in age, -from six in the morning till ten or eleven at night, and give no -time for meals; eat their victuals as they worked; the engines -running all the time. The engine never stopped at meal-times; -it was just as the spinner chose whether the children worked on -or not. They made more work if they went on. I never would -allow any one to touch my piecers. The foreman would come at -times, and has strapped them, and I told him I would serve him -the same if he touched them. I have seen the man who worked -the other billy beat his piecers. I have seen children knocked -down by the billy-rollers. It is a weapon that a man will easily -take up in a passion. I do not know any instance of a man being -prosecuted for it. The parents are unwilling, for fear the children -should lose their work. I know Thorpe has been up before the -magistrate half a dozen times or more, on the complaint of the -parents. He has been before the bench, at the Exchange, as we -call it, and I have seen him when he came back, when the magistrates -have reprimanded Thorpe, and told the parents they had -better take the children away. After that he has been sometimes -half drunk, perhaps, and in a passion, and would strap them for -the least thing, more than he did before. I remember once that -he was fined; it was about two years and a half ago; it was for -beating a little girl; he was fined 10<i>s.</i> I have seen him strap -the women when they took the part of the children. The master -complained he was not strict enough. I know from Thorpe that -the master always paid his expenses when he was before the -magistrate. I believe they generally do in all the factories. I -have frequently had complaints against myself by the parents of -the children, for beating them. I used to beat them. I am sure -no man can do without it who works long hours; I am sure he -cannot. I told them I was very sorry after I had done it, but I -was forced to do it. The master expected me to do my work, and -I could not do mine unless they did theirs. One lad used to say -to me frequently, (he was a jocular kind of lad,) that he liked a -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[Pg 141]</a></span> -good beating at times, it helped him to do his work. I used to -joke with them to keep up their spirits. <i>I have seen them fall -asleep, and they have been performing their work with their hands -while they were asleep, after the billy had stopped, when their work -was done. I have stopped and looked at them for two minutes, -going through the motions of piecening, fast asleep, when there was -really no work to do, and they were really doing nothing.</i> I believe, -when we have been working long hours, that they have never -been washed, but on a Saturday night, for weeks together.</p> - -<p class="i1">"Thomas Clarke, (examined at request of Joseph Badder:) -'I am aged eleven, I work at Cooper's factory; the rope-walk. I -spin there. I earn 4<i>s.</i> a week there. I have been there about -one year and a half. I was in Ross's factory before that. I was -piecener there. I piecened for Joseph Badder one while, then for -George Castle. I piecened for Badder when he left. Badder told -me I was wanted here. We have not been talking about it. I -remember that Jesse came to the machine, and Badder would not -let him go nigh, and so they got a scuffling about it. I was very -nigh nine years of age when I first went to piecen. I got 2<i>s.</i> 6<i>d.</i> -a week, at first. I think I was a good hand at it. When I had -been there half a year I got 3<i>s.</i> Badder used to strap me some -odd times. Some odd times he'd catch me over the head, but it -was mostly on the back. He made me sing out. He has taken -the billy-roller to me sometimes; about four times, I think. He -used to take us over the shoulders with that; he would have done -us an injury if he had struck us over the head. I never saw any -one struck over the head with a billy-roller. He would strap us -about twelve times at once. He used to strap us sometimes over -the head. He used to strap us for letting his cards run through. -I believe it was my fault. If we had had cardings to go on with -we would have kept it from running through. It was nobody's -fault that there were no cardings, only the slubber's fault that -worked so hard. I have had, maybe, six stacks of cardings put -up while he was out. When he came in, he would work harder -to work down the stacks. Sometimes he would stop the card. -He used to strap us most when he was working hardest. He did -not strap us more at night than he did in the daytime. He would -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[Pg 142]</a></span> -sometimes stay half a day. When he was away, as soon as we -had six stacks of cardings up, the rule was to stop, and then we'd -pick up the waste about the room, and take a play sometimes, but -very seldom. Mr. Ross paid me. Badder never paid me when -he was out. I never got any money from Badder. I used sometimes -to fall asleep. The boy next to me used often to fall asleep: -John Breedon; he got many a stroke. That was when we were -working for Castle; that would be about six o'clock. He was -about the size of me; he was older than I was. They always -strapped us if we fell asleep. Badder was a better master than -Castle. Castle used to get a rope, about as thick as my thumb, -and double it, and put knots in it, and lick us with that. That -was a good bit worse than the strap. I was to no regular master -afterward; I used to do bits about the room. I ran away -because Thorpe used to come and strap me. He did not know -what he was strapping me for; it was just as he was in his -humours. I never saw such a man; he would strap any one -as did not please him. I only worked for him a week or two. -I didn't like it, and I ran away. He would strap me if even there -was a bit of waste lying about the room. I have had marks on -my back from Castle's strapping me.'"</p></div> - -<p class="i1">In Nottingham, also, there is much cruelty shown in -the treatment of the children, as will appear from the -following evidence taken by Mr. Power:—</p> - -<div class="bq"> - -<p class="i1">"Williamson, the father: 'My two sons, one ten, the other -thirteen, work at Milnes's factory, at Lenton. They go at half-past -five in the morning; don't stop at breakfast or tea-time. -They stop at dinner half an hour. Come home at a quarter before -ten. They used to work till ten, sometimes eleven, sometimes -twelve. They earn between them 6<i>s.</i> 2<i>d.</i> per week. One of them, -the eldest, worked at Wilson's for 2 years at 2<i>s.</i> 3<i>d.</i> a week. He -left because the overlooker beat him and loosened a tooth for him. -I complained, and they turned him away for it. They have been -gone to work sixteen hours now; they will be very tired when -they come home at half-past nine. I have a deal of trouble to get -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[Pg 143]</a></span> -'em up in the morning. I have been obliged to beat 'em with a -strap in their shirts, and to pinch 'em, in order to get them well -awake. It made me cry to be obliged to do it.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Did you make them cry?' 'Yes, sometimes. They will be -home soon, very tired, and you will see them.' I preferred walking -toward the factory to meet them. I saw the youngest only, -and asked him a few questions. He said, 'I'm sure I shan't stop -to talk to you; I want to go home and get to bed; I must be up -at half-past five again to-morrow morning.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"G— — and A— —, examined. The boy: 'I am -going fourteen: my sister is eleven. I have worked in Milnes's -factory two years. She goes there also. We are both in the -clearing-room. I think we work too long hours; I've been badly -with it. We go at half-past five, give over at half-past nine. I'm -now just come home. We sometimes stay till twelve. We are -obliged to work over-hours. I have 4<i>s.</i> a week; that is, for staying -from six till seven. They pay for over-hours besides. I asked -to come away one night, lately, at eight o'clock, being ill; I was -told if I went I must not come again. I am not well now. I -can seldom eat any breakfast; my appetite is very bad. I have -had a bad cold for a week.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"Father: 'I believe him to be ill from being over-worked. My -little girl came home the other day, cruelly beaten. I took her to -Mr. Milnes; did not see him, but showed Mrs. Milnes the marks. -I thought of taking it before a magistrate, but was advised to let -it drop. They might have turned both my children away. That -man's name is Blagg; he is always strapping the children. I -shan't let the boy go to them much longer; I shall try to apprentice -him; it's killing him by inches; he falls asleep over his -food at night. I saw an account of such things in the newspaper, -and thought how true it was of my own children.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"Mother: 'I have worked in the same mills myself. The same -man was there then. I have seen him behave shocking to the -children. He would take 'em by the hair of the head and drag -'em about the room. He has been there twelve years. There's -a many young ones in that hot room. There's six of them badly -now, with bad eyes and sick-headache. This boy of ours has -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[Pg 144]</a></span> -always been delicate from a child. His appetite is very bad now; -he does not eat his breakfast sometimes for two or three days -together. The little girl bears it well; she is healthy. I should -prefer their coming home at seven, without additional wages. -The practice of working over-hours has been constantly pursued -at Milnes's factory.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"John Fortesque, at his own house, nine -<span class="sc">P.M.</span> 'I am an overlooker -in this factory. We have about one hundred hands. Forty -quite children; most of the remainder are young women. Our -regular day is from six to seven. It should be an hour for dinner, -but it is only half an hour. I don't know how it comes so. We -have had some bad men in authority who made themselves big; -it is partly the master. No time is allowed for tea or breakfast; -there used to be a quarter of an hour for each; it's altered now. -We call it twelve hours a day. Over-time is paid for extra. When -we are busy we work over-hours. Our present time is till half-past -nine. It has been so all winter, and since to this time. We -have some very young ones; as young as eight. I don't like to -take them younger; they're not able to do our work. We have -three doubling-rooms, a clearing-room, and a gassing-room. We -have about forty in the clearing-room. We occasionally find it -necessary to make a difference as to the time of keeping some of -the children. We have done so several times. Master has said: -Pick out the youngest, and let them go, and get some of the -young women to take their places. I am not the overlooker to the -clearing-room. Blagg is overlooker there; there has been many -complaints against him. He's forced to be roughish in order to -keep his place. If he did not keep the work going on properly -there would be some one to take his place who would. There -are some children so obstinate and bad they must be punished. -A strap is used. Beating is necessary, on account of their being -idle. We find it out often in this way: we give them the same -number of bobbins each; when the number they ought to finish -falls off, then they're corrected. They would try the patience of -any man. It is not from being tired, I think. It happens as -often in the middle of the day as at other times. I don't like the -beating myself; I would rather there were little deductions in -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[Pg 145]</a></span> -their earnings for these offences. I am sure the children would -not like to have any of their earnings stopped; I am sure they -would mind it. From what I have heard parents say about their -children when at work, I am sure they (the parents) would -prefer this mode of correction; and, I think, it would have an effect -on the children. At the factory of Messrs. Mills and Elliot they -go on working all the night as well as day. I believe them to -have done so for the last year and a half; they have left it off -about a week. (<i>A respectable female here entered with a petition -against negro-slavery; after she was gone, Mr. Fortesque continued.</i>) -I think home slavery as bad as it can be abroad; worst of anywhere -in the factories. The hours we work are much too long -for young people. Twelve hours' work is enough for young or -old, confined in a close place. The work is light, but it's standing -so long that tires them. I have been here about two years; -I have seen bad effects produced on people's health by it, but not -to any great degree. It must be much worse at Mills and Elliot's; -working night as well as day, the rooms are never clear of people's -breaths. We set our windows open when we turn the hands out. -The gas, too, which they use at night, makes it worse.'"</p></div> - -<p class="i1">The italicised parenthesis is, <i>bonâ fide</i>, a part of the -Report, as may be proved by consulting the parliamentary -document. The <i>respectable female</i> was probably -the original of Dickens's Mrs. Jellaby.</p> - -<p class="i1">Read these references to a case of barbarity in a -factory at Wigan:—</p> - -<div class="bq"> - -<p class="indent1_5"><i>Extract from a speech made by Mr. Grant, a Manchester spinner, -at a meeting held at Chorlton-upon-Medlock; reported in the -Manchester Courier of 20th April, 1833.</i></p></div> - -<div class="bq"> - -<p class="i1">"Much was said of the black slaves and their chains. No -doubt they were entitled to freedom, but were there no slaves -except those of sable hue? Has slavery no sort of existence -among children of the factories? Yes, and chains were sometimes -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[Pg 146]</a></span> -introduced, though those chains might not be forged of -iron. He would name an instance of this kind of slavery, which -took place at Wigan. A child, not ten years of age, having been -late at the factory one morning, had, as a punishment, a rope -put round its neck, to which a weight of twenty pounds was -attached; and, thus burdened like a galley-slave, it was compelled -to labour for a length of time in the midst of an impure -atmosphere and a heated room. [Loud cries of, Shame!] The -truth of this has been denied by Mr. Richard Potter, the member -for Wigan; but he (the speaker) reiterated its correctness. He -has seen the child; and its mother's eyes were filled with tears -while she told him this shocking tale of infant suffering."</p></div> - -<div class="bq"> - -<p class="indent1_5"><i>Extract from a speech made by Mr. Oastler, on the occasion of a -meeting at the City of London Tavern; reported in the Times, -of the 25th of February, 1833.</i></p></div> - -<div class="bq"> - -<p class="i1">"In a mill at Wigan, the children, for any slight neglect, were -loaded with weights of twenty pounds, passed over their shoulders -and hanging behind their backs. Then there was a murderous -instrument called a billy-roller, about eight feet long and -one inch and a half in diameter, with which many children had -been knocked down, and in some instances murdered by it."</p></div> - -<div class="bq"> - -<p class="indent1_5"><i>Extract from a speech made by Mr. Oastler, at a meeting held in -the theatre at Bolton, and reported in the Bolton Chronicle, of the -30th of March, 1833.</i></p></div> - -<div class="bq"> - -<p class="i1">"In one factory they have a door which covers a quantity of -cold water, in which they plunge the sleepy victim to awake it. -In Wigan they tie a great weight to their backs. I knew the -Russians made the Poles carry iron weights in their exile to Siberia, -but it was reserved for Christian England thus to use an -infant."</p></div> - -<p class="i1">Rowland Detroiser deposed before the Central Board -of Commissioners, concerning the treatment of children -in the cotton factories: -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[Pg 147]</a></span>—</p> - -<div class="bq"> - -<p class="i1">"'The children employed in a cotton-factory labour, are not all -under the control or employed by the proprietor. A very considerable -number is employed and paid by the spinners and -stretchers, when there are stretchers. These are what are called -piecers and scavengers; the youngest children being employed in -the latter capacity, and as they grow up, for a time in the scavengers -and piecers. In coarse mills, that is, mills in which low -numbers of yarn are spun, the wages of the scavengers is commonly -from 1<i>s.</i> 6<i>d.</i> to 2<i>s.</i> 6<i>d.</i>, according to size and ability. The -men do not practise the system of fining, generally speaking, and -especially toward these children. The sum which they earn is -so small it would be considered by many a shame to make it less. -They do not, however, scruple to give them a good bobbying, as -it is called; that is, beating them with a rope thickened at one -end, or, in some few brutal instances, with the combined weapons -of fist and foot.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'But this severity, you say, is practised toward the children -who are employed by the men, and not employed by the masters?' -'Yes.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'And the men inflict the punishment?' 'Yes.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Not the overlookers?' 'Not in these instances.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'But how do you reconcile your statement with the fact that -the men have been the principal complainers of the cruelties practised -toward the children, and also the parties who are most -active in endeavouring to obtain for the children legislative protection?' -'My statement is only fact. I do not profess to reconcile -the apparent inconsistency. The men are in some measure -forced by circumstances into the practice of that severity of -which I have spoken.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Will you explain these circumstances?' 'The great object in -a cotton mill is to turn as much work off as possible, in order to -compensate by quantity for the smallness of the profit. To that -end every thing is made subservient. There are two classes of -superintendents in those establishments. The first class are -what are called managers, from their great power and authority. -Their especial business is to watch over the whole concern, and -constantly to attend to the quantity and quality of the yarn, &c. -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[Pg 148]</a></span> -turned off. To these individuals the second class, called overlookers, -are immediately responsible for whatever is amiss. The -business of overlookers is to attend to particular rooms and classes -of hands, for the individual conduct of which they are held responsible. -These individuals, in some mills, are paid in proportion -to the quantity of work turned off; in all, they are made responsible -for that quantity, as well as for the quality; and as the -speed of each particular machine is known, nothing is more easy -than to calculate the quantity which it ought to produce. This -quantity is the maximum; the minimum allowed is the least possible -deficiency, certain contingencies being taken into account. -In those mills in which the overlookers are paid in proportion to -the quantity of work turned off, interest secures the closest -attention to the conduct of every individual under them; and in -other mills, fear of losing their places operates to produce the -same effect. It is one continual system of driving; and, in order -to turn off as great a quantity of work as is possible, the manager -drives the overlookers, and the overlookers drive the men. -Every spinner knows that he must turn off the average quantity -of work which his wheels are capable of producing, or lose his -place if deficiencies are often repeated; and consequently, the -piecers and scavengers are drilled, in their turns, to the severest -attention. On their constant attention, as well as his own, depends -the quantity of work done. So that it is not an exaggeration -to say, that their powers of labour are subjected to the -severity of an undeviating exaction. A working man is estimated -in these establishments in proportion to his physical capacity -rather than his moral character, and therefore it is not -difficult to infer what must be the consequences. It begets a system -of debasing tyranny in almost every department, the most -demoralizing in its effects. Kind words are godsends in many -cotton factories, and oaths and blows the usual order of the day. -The carder must produce the required quantity of drawing and -roving; the spinner, the required quantity of yarn; a system of -overbearing tyranny is adopted toward everybody under them; -they are cursed into the required degree of attention, and blows -are resorted to with the children when oaths fail, and sometimes -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[Pg 149]</a></span> -even before an oath has been tried. In short, the men must do -work enough, or lose their places. It is a question between -losing their places and the exercise of severity of discipline in -all cases; between starvation and positive cruelty, in many. -There are exceptions, but my conviction is that they are comparatively -few indeed. To me the whole system has always -appeared one of tyranny."</p></div> - -<p class="i1">Mr. Abraham Whitehead, clothier, of Scholes, near -Holmfirth, examined by Parliamentary Committee:—</p> - -<div class="bq"> - -<p class="i1">"'What has been the treatment which you have observed that -these children have received at the mills, to keep them attentive -for so many hours, at so early ages?' 'They are generally -cruelly treated; so cruelly treated that they dare not, hardly for -their lives, be too late at their work in the morning. When I -have been at the mills in the winter season, when the children -are at work in the evening, the very first thing they inquire is, -"What o'clock is it?" If we should answer, "Seven," they say, -"Only seven! it is a great while to ten, but we must not give up -till ten o'clock, or past." They look so anxious to know what -o'clock it is that I am convinced the children are fatigued, and -think that, even at seven, they have worked too long. My heart -has been ready to bleed for them when I have seen them so -fatigued, for they appear in such a state of apathy and insensibility -as really not to know whether they are doing their work -or not. They usually throw a bunch of ten or twelve cordings -across the hand, and take one off at a time; but I have seen the -bunch entirely finished, and they have attempted to take off another, -when they have not had a cording at all; they have been -so fatigued as not to know whether they were at work or not.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Do they frequently fall into errors and mistakes in piecing -when thus fatigued?' 'Yes; the errors they make when thus -fatigued are, that instead of placing the cording in this way, -(describing it,) they are apt to place them obliquely, and that -causes a flying, which makes bad yarn; and when the billy-spinner -sees that, he takes his strap, or the billy-roller, and says, -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[Pg 150]</a></span> -"Damn thee, close it; little devil, close it;" and they strike the -child with the strap or billy roller.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'You have noticed this in the after part of the day more particularly?' -'It is a very difficult thing to go into a mill in the -latter part of the day, particularly in winter, and not to hear -some of the children crying for being beaten for this very fault.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'How are they beaten?' 'That depends on the humanity of -the slubber or billy-spinner. Some have been beaten so violently -that they have lost their lives in consequence of being so beaten; -and even a young girl has had the end of a billy-roller jammed -through her cheek.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'What is the billy-roller?' 'A heavy rod of from two to -three yards long, and of two inches in diameter, and with an -iron pivot at each end. It runs on the top of the cording, over -the feeding-cloth. I have seen them take the billy-roller and rap -them on the head, making their heads crack so that you might -have heard the blow at a distance of six or eight yards, in spite -of the din and rolling of the machinery. Many have been -knocked down by the instrument. I knew a boy very well, of -the name of Senior, with whom I went to school; he was struck -with a billy-roller on the elbow; it occasioned a swelling; he was -not able to work more than three or four weeks after the blow; -and he died in consequence. There was a woman in Holmfirth -who was beaten very much: I am not quite certain whether on -the head; and she lost her life in consequence of being beaten -with a billy-roller. That which was produced (showing one) is -not the largest size; there are some a foot longer than that; it -is the most common instrument with which these poor little -pieceners are beaten, more commonly than with either stick or -strap.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'How is it detached from the machinery?' 'Supposing this -to be the billy-frame, (describing it,) at each end there is a socket -open; the cording runs underneath here, just in this way, and -when the billy-spinner is angry, and sees the little piecener has -done wrong, he takes off this and says, "Damn thee, close it."'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'You have seen the poor children in this situation?' 'I have -seen them frequently struck with the billy-roller; I have seen -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[Pg 151]</a></span> -one so struck as to occasion its death; but I once saw a piecener -struck in the face by a billy-spinner with his hand, until its nose -bled very much; and when I said, "Oh dear, I would not suffer -a child of mine to be treated thus," the man has said "How the -devil do you know but what he deserved it? What have you to -do with it?"'"</p></div> - -<p class="i1">But the most complete evidence in regard to the -slavery in the factories was that given to the Parliamentary -Committee, by a man named Peter Smart, -whose experience and observation as a slave and a -slave-driver in the factories of Scotland, enabled him -to substantiate all the charges made against the system. -His history possesses the deepest interest, and -should be attentively perused:—</p> - -<div class="bq"> - -<p class="i1">"'Where do you reside?' 'At Dundee.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'What age are you?' 'Twenty-seven.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'What is your business?' 'An overseer of a flax-mill.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Have you worked in a mill from your youth?' 'Yes, since -I was five years of age.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Had you a father and mother in the country at that time?' -'My mother stopped in Perth, about eleven miles from the mill, -and my father was in the army.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Were you hired for any length of time when you went?' -'Yes, my mother got 15<i>s.</i> for six years, I having my meat and -clothes.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'At whose mill?' 'Mr. Andrew Smith's, at Gateside.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Is that in Fifeshire?' 'Yes.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'What were your hours of labour, do you recollect, in that -mill?' 'In the summer season we were very scarce of water.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'But when you had sufficient water, how long did you work?' -'We began at four o'clock in the morning, and worked till ten or -eleven at night; as long as we could stand upon our feet.'</p></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[Pg 152]</a></span></p> - -<div class="bq"> - -<p class="i1">"'You hardly could keep up for that length of time?' 'No, -we often fell asleep.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'How were you kept to your work for that length of time; -were you chastised?' 'Yes, very often, and very severely.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'How long was this ago?' 'It is between twenty-one and -twenty-two years since I first went.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Were you kept in the premises constantly?' 'Constantly.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Locked up?' 'Yes, locked up.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Night and day?' 'Night and day; I never went home -while I was at the mill.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Was it possible to keep up your activity for such a length -of time as that?' 'No, it was impossible to do it; we often fell -asleep.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Were not accidents then frequently occurring at that mill -from over-fatigue?' 'Yes, I got my hands injured there by the -machinery.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Have you lost any of your fingers?' 'Yes, I have lost one, -and the other hand is very much injured.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'At what time of the night was that when your hands became -thus injured?' 'Twilight, between seven and eight o'clock.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Do you attribute that accident to over-fatigue and drowsiness?' -'Yes, and to a want of knowledge of the machinery. I -was only five years old when I went to the mills, and I did not -know the use of the different parts of the machinery.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Did you ever know any other accident happen in that mill?' -'Yes, there was a girl that fell off her stool when she was -piecing; she fell down and was killed on the spot.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Was that considered by the hands in the mill to have been -occasioned by drowsiness and excessive fatigue?' 'Yes.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'How old were you at the time this took place?' 'I don't -know, for I have been so long in the mills that I have got no -education, and I have forgot the like of those things.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Have you any recollection of what the opinions of the people -in the mill were at that time as to the cause of the accident?' -'I heard the rest of them talking about it, and they said that it -was so. We had long stools that we sat upon then, old-fashioned; -we have no such things as those now.'</p></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[Pg 153]</a></span></p> - -<div class="bq"> - -<p class="i1">"'Is that the only accident that you have known to happen in -that mill?' 'There was a boy, shortly before I got my fingers -hurt, that had his fingers hurt in the same way that I had.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Was there any other killed?' 'There was one killed, but I -could not say how it was; but she was killed in the machinery.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Has any accident happened in that mill during the last -twelve years?' 'I could not say; it is twelve years since I -left it.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Is that mill going on still?' 'Yes.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Speaking of the hours that you had to labour there, will you -state to this committee the effect it had upon you?' 'It had a very -great effect upon me; I was bad in my health.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Were you frequently much beaten, in order to keep you up -to your labour?' 'Yes; very often beat till I was bloody at the -mouth and at the nose, by the overseer and master too.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'How did they beat you?' 'With their hands and with a -leather thong.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Were the children, generally speaking, treated as you -have stated you were?' 'Yes; generally; there are generally -fifteen boys in one, and a number of girls in the other; they were -kept separately.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'You say you were locked up night and day?' 'Yes.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Do the children ever attempt to run away?' 'Very often.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Were they pursued and brought back again?' 'Yes, the -overseer pursued them, and brought them back.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Did you ever attempt to run away?' 'Yes, I ran away twice.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'And you were brought back?' 'Yes; and I was sent up to -the master's loft, and thrashed with a whip for running away.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Were you bound to this man?' 'Yes, for six years.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'By whom were you bound?' 'My mother got 15<i>s.</i> for the -six years.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Do you know whether the children were, in point of fact, -compelled to stop during the whole time for which they were engaged?' -'Yes, they were.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'By law?' 'I cannot say by law; but they were compelled -by the master; I never saw any law used there but the law of -their own hands.'</p></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[Pg 154]</a></span></p> - -<div class="bq"> - -<p class="i1">"'Does that practice of binding continue in Scotland now?' -'Not in the place I am in.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'How long since it has ceased?' 'For the last two years -there has been no engagement in Dundee.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Are they generally engagements from week to week, or from -month to month?' 'From month to month.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Do you know whether a practice has prevailed of sending -poor children, who are orphans, from workhouses and hospitals to -that work?' 'There were fifteen, at the time I was there, came -from Edinburgh Poorhouse.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Do you know what the Poorhouse in Edinburgh is?' 'It is -just a house for putting poor orphans in.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Do you know the name of that establishment?' 'No.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Do you happen to know that these fifteen came to the mill -from an establishment for the reception of poor orphans?' 'Yes.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'How many had you at the mill?' 'Fifteen.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'At what ages?' 'From 12 to 15.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Were they treated in a similar manner to yourself?' 'Yes, -we were all treated alike; there was one treatment for all, from -the oldest to the youngest.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Did not some of you attempt, not merely to get out of the mill, -but out of the country?' 'Yes; I have known some go down to -the boat at Dundee, in order to escape by that means, and the -overseer has caught them there, and brought them back again.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Is there not a ferry there?' 'Yes.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'When persons disembark there, they may embark on the -ferry?' 'Yes.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Did your parents live in Dundee at this time?' 'No.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Had you any friends at Dundee?' 'No.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'The fact is, that you had nobody that could protect you?' 'No, -I had no protection; the first three years I was at the mill I never -saw my mother at all; and when I got this accident with my -hand she never knew of it.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Where did she reside at that time?' 'At Perth.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'You say that your master himself was in the habit of treating -you in the way you have mentioned?' 'Yes.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Describe what the treatment was?' 'The treatment was -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[Pg 155]</a></span> -very bad; perhaps a box on the ear, or very frequently a kick -with his foot.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Were you punished for falling asleep in that mill?' 'Yes, -I have got my licks for it, and been punished very severely for it.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Where did you go to then?' 'I went to a mill in Argyleshire.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'How many years were you in this mill of Mr. Andrew Smith's, -of Gateside?' 'Eleven years.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'What age were you, when you went to this mill in Argyleshire?' -'About 16.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'You stated that you were bound to stay with Mr. Smith for -six years; how came you then to continue with him the remaining -five years?' 'At the end of those six years I got 3<i>l.</i> a year from -my master, and found my own clothes out of that.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Were you then contented with your situation?' 'No, I cannot -say that I was; but I did not know any thing of any other -business.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'You had not been instructed in any other business, and -you did not know where you could apply for a maintenance?' -'No.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'To whose mill did you then remove?' 'To Messrs. Duff, -Taylor & Co., at Ruthven, Forfarshire.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'What were your hours of labour there?' 'Fourteen hours.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Exclusive of the time for meals and refreshment?' 'Yes.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Was that a flax mill?' 'Yes.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Did you work for that number of hours both winter and -summer?' 'Yes, both winter and summer.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'How old were you at this time?' 'Sixteen.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Are you aware whether any increase was made in the number -of hours of work, in the year 1819, by an agreement between -the masters and the workmen?' 'No, I cannot say as to that.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'You think there could not be much increase of your previous -labour, whatever agreement might have been made upon the subject?' -'No, there could have been no increase made to that; it -was too long for that.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Were the hands chastised up to their labour in that mill?' -'Yes.'</p></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[Pg 156]</a></span></p> - -<div class="bq"> - -<p class="i1">"'That was the practice there also?' 'Yes.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Do you mean to state that you were treated with great cruelty -at the age of 16, and that you still remain in the mill?' 'I was -not beaten so severely as I was in Fifeshire.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'You were not so beaten as to induce you to leave that mill?' -'If I had left it, I did not know where to go.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Did you try to get into any other occupation?' 'Yes, I went -apprentice to a flax-dresser at that time.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'What was the reason that you did not keep at it?' 'My -hand was so disabled, that it was found I was not able to follow -that business.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'You found you could not get your bread at that business?' -'Yes.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Consequently, you were obliged to go back to the mills?' -'Yes.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Was it the custom, when you were 16 years of age, for the -overseer to beat you?' 'Yes, the boys were often beaten very -severely in the mill.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'At this time you were hired for wages; how much had you?' -'Half-a-crown a week.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'And your maintenance?' 'No, I maintained myself.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Is not that much lower than the wages now given to people -of sixteen years of age?' 'I have a boy about sixteen that has -4<i>s.</i> 6<i>d.</i> a week, but he is in a high situation; he is oiler of the -machinery.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Besides, you have been injured in your hand by the accident -to which you have alluded, and that probably might have interfered -with the amount of your wages?' 'Yes.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'What duty had you in the mill at this time, for the performance -of which you received 2<i>s.</i> 6<i>d.</i> a week, when you were at Duff, -Taylor & Co.'s?' 'I was a card-feeder.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Did your hand prevent you working at that time as well as -other boys of the same age, in feeding the cards?' 'Yes, on the -old system; I was not able to feed with a stick at that time; it is -done away with now.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'How long did you stay there?' 'About fifteen months.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'How many hours did you work there?' 'Fourteen.'</p></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[Pg 157]</a></span></p> - -<div class="bq"> - -<p class="i1">"'Do you mean that you worked fourteen hours actual labour?' -'Yes.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Was it a water-mill?' 'Yes.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Were you ever short of water?' 'We had plenty of water.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'How long did you stop for dinner?' 'Half an hour.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'What time had you for breakfast, or for refreshment in the -afternoon?' 'We had no time for that.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Did you eat your breakfast and dinner in the mill then?' -'No, we went to the victualling house.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Was that some building attached to the mill?' 'Yes, at a -a small distance from the mill.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Was it provided for the purpose of the mill?' 'Yes, we got -our bread and water there.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Did you sleep in a bothy at Duff & Taylor's?' 'Yes.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Were you locked up in a bothy?' 'No.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'What is a bothy?' 'It is a house with beds all round.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Is it not the practice for farm-servants, and others, who are -unmarried, to sleep in such places?' 'I could not say as to that; -I am not acquainted with the farm system.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'To what mill did you next go?' 'To Mr. Webster's, at Battus -Den, within eleven miles of Dundee.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'In what situation did you act there?' 'I acted as an overseer.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'At 17 years of age?' 'Yes.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Did you inflict the same punishment that you yourself had -experienced?' 'I went as an overseer; not as a slave, but as a -slave-driver.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'What were the hours of labour in that mill?' 'My master -told me that I had to produce a certain quantity of yarn; the -hours were at that time fourteen; I said that I was not able to -produce the quantity of yarn that was required; I told him if he -took the timepiece out of the mill I would produce that quantity, -and after that time I found no difficulty in producing the quantity.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'How long have you worked per day in order to produce -the quantity your master required?' 'I have wrought nineteen -hours.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Was this a water-mill?' 'Yes, water and steam both.'</p></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[Pg 158]</a></span></p> - -<div class="bq"> - -<p class="i1">"'To what time have you worked?' 'I have seen the mill -going till it was past 12 o'clock on the Saturday night.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'So that the mill was still working on the Sabbath morning.' -'Yes.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Were the workmen paid by the piece, or by the day?' 'No, -all had stated wages.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Did not that almost compel you to use great severity to the -hands then under you?' 'Yes; I was compelled often to beat -them, in order to get them to attend to their work, from their -being overwrought.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Were not the children exceedingly fatigued at that time?' -'Yes, exceedingly fatigued.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Were the children bound in the same way in that mill?' -'No; they were bound from one year's end to another, for twelve -months.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Did you keep the hands locked up in the same way in that -mill?' 'Yes, we locked up the mill; but we did not lock the -bothy.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Did you find that the children were unable to pursue their -labour properly to that extent?' 'Yes; they have been brought -to that condition, that I have gone and fetched up the doctor to -them, to see what was the matter with them, and to know -whether they were able to rise, or not able to rise; they were -not at all able to rise; we have had great difficulty in getting -them up.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'When that was the case, how long have they been in bed, -generally speaking?' 'Perhaps not above four or five hours in -their beds. Sometimes we were very ill-plagued by men coming -about the females' bothy.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Were your hands principally girls?' 'Girls and boys all -together; we had only a very few boys.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Did the boys sleep in the girls' bothy?' 'Yes, all together.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Do you mean to say that there was only one bothy for the -girls and for the boys who worked there?' 'Yes.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'What age were those girls and boys?' 'We had them from -8 to 20 years of age; and the boys were from 10 to 14, or thereabouts.'</p></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[Pg 159]</a></span></p> - -<div class="bq"> - -<p class="i1">"'You spoke of men who came about the bothy; did the girls -expect them?' 'Yes; of course they had their sweethearts.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Did they go into the bothy?' 'Yes; and once I got a sore -beating from one of them, for ordering him out of the bothy.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'How long were you in that mill?' 'Three years and nine -months.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'And where did you go to next?' 'To Messrs. Anderson & -Company, at Moneyfieth, about six miles from Dundee.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'What were your hours of labour there?' 'Fifteen hours.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Exclusive of the hour for refreshment?' 'Yes; we seldom -stopped for refreshment there.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'You worked without any intermission at all, frequently?' -'Yes; we made a turn-about.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Explain what you mean by a turn-about?' 'We let them -out by turns in the days.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'How long did you let one go out?' 'Just as short a time as -they could have to take their victuals in.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'What were the ages of the children principally employed in -that place?' 'From about 12 to 20; they were all girls that I -had there, except one boy, and I think he was 8 years of age.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Was this a flax-mill?' 'Yes, all flax.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Did you find that the children there were exceedingly distressed -with their work?' 'Yes; for the mill being in the country, -we were very scarce of workers, and the master often came out -and compelled them by flattery to go and work half the night -after their day's labour, and then they had only the other half to -sleep.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'You mean that the master induced them by offering them -extra wages to go to work half the night?' 'Yes.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Was that very prejudicial to the girls so employed?' 'Yes; -I have seen some girls that were working half the night, that have -fainted and fallen down at their work, and have had to be carried -out.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Did you use severity in that mill?' 'No, I was not very -severe there.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'You find, perhaps, that the girls do not require that severity -that the boys do?' 'Yes.'</p></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[Pg 160]</a></span></p> - -<div class="bq"> - -<p class="i1">"'How large was that mill?' 'There were only eighteen of us -altogether.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'From what you have seen, should you say that the treatment -of the children and the hours of labour are worse in the small or -in the large mills?' 'I could not answer that question.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Have you ever been in any large mill?' 'Yes, I am in one -just now, Mr. Baxter's.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Is the treatment of the children better in that large mill than -in the smaller mills in which you have been usually?' 'There is -little difference; the treatment is all one.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'To whose mill did you next go?' 'To Messrs. Baxter & -Brothers, at Dundee.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'State the hours of labour which you worked when you were -there, when trade was brisk?' 'Thirteen hours and twenty -minutes.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'What time was allowed for meals?' 'Fifty minutes each day.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Have you found that the system is getting any better now?' -'No, the system is getting no better with us.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Is there as much beating as there was?' 'There is not so -much in the licking way.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'But it is not entirely abolished, the system of chastisement?' -'No, it is far from that.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Do you think that, where young children are employed, that -system ought, or can be, entirely dispensed with, of giving some -chastisement to the children of that age?' 'They would not require -chastisement if they had shorter daily work.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Do you mean to state that they are only chastised because -through weariness they are unable to attend to their work, and -that they are not chastised for other faults and carelessness as -well?' 'There may be other causes besides, but weariness is the -principal fault.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Does not that over-labour induce that weariness and incapacity -to do the work, which brings upon them chastisement at -other parts of the day as well as in the evening?' 'Yes; young -girls, if their work go wrong, if they see me going round, and -my countenance with the least frown upon it, they will begin -crying when I go by.'</p></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[Pg 161]</a></span></p> - -<div class="bq"> - -<p class="i1">"'Then they live in a state of perpetual alarm and suffering?' -'Yes.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Do you think that those children are healthy?' 'No, they -are far from that; I have two girls that have been under me these -two years; the one is 13 years, the other 15, and they are both -orphans and sisters, and both one size, and they very seldom are -working together, because the one or the other is generally ill; -and they are working for 3<i>s.</i> 6<i>d.</i> a week.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Have you the same system of locking up now?' 'Yes, locking -up all day.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Are they locked up at night?' 'No; after they have left -their work we have nothing more to do with them.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'What time do they leave their work in the evening now?' -'About 20 minutes past 7.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'What time do they go to it in the morning?' 'Five minutes -before 5.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Do you conceive that that is at all consistent with the health -of those children?' 'It is certainly very greatly against their -health.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Is not the flax-spinning business in itself very unwholesome?' -'Very unwholesome.'</p></div> - -<p class="i1">So much for the slavery of the factories—a slavery -which destroys human beings, body and soul. The fate -of the helpless children condemned to such protracted, -exhausting toil, under such demoralizing influences, -with the lash constantly impending over them, and no -alternative but starvation, is enough to excite the tears -of all humane persons. That such a system should be -tolerated in a land where a Christian church is a part -of the government, is indeed remarkable—proving how -greatly men are disinclined to practise what they -profess.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[Pg 162]</a></span></p> - -<p class="i1">We cannot close this chapter upon the British factories -without making a quotation from a work which, -we fear, has been too little read in the United Kingdom—a -fiction merely in construction, a truthful narrative -in fact. We allude to "The Life and Adventures of -Michael Armstrong, the Factory Boy," by Frances -Trollope. Copious editions of this heart-rending story -should be immediately issued by the British publishers. -This passage, describing the visit of Michael Armstrong -to the cotton factory, in company with Sir -Matthew Dowling and Dr. Crockley, is drawn to the -life:—</p> - -<div class="bq"> - -<p class="i1">"The party entered the building, whence—as all know who -have done the like—every sight, every sound, every scent that -kind nature has fitted to the organs of her children, so as to render -the mere unfettered use of them a delight, are banished for -ever and for ever. The ceaseless whirring of a million hissing -wheels seizes on the tortured ear; and while threatening to destroy -the delicate sense, seems bent on proving first, with a sort -of mocking mercy, of how much suffering it can be the cause. -The scents that reek around, from oil, tainted water, and human -filth, with that last worst nausea arising from the hot refuse of -atmospheric air, left by some hundred pairs of labouring lungs, -render the act of breathing a process of difficulty, disgust, and -pain. All this is terrible. But what the eye brings home to the -heart of those who look round upon the horrid earthly hell, is -enough to make it all forgotten; for who can think of villanous -smells, or heed the suffering of the ear-racking sounds, while -they look upon hundreds of helpless children, divested of every -trace of health, of joyousness, and even of youth! Assuredly -there is no exaggeration in this; for except only in their diminutive -size, these suffering infants have no trace of it. Lean and -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[Pg 163]</a></span> -distorted limbs, sallow and sunken cheeks, dim hollow eyes, -that speak unrest and most unnatural carefulness, give to each -tiny, trembling, unelastic form, a look of hideous premature old -age.</p> - -<p class="i1">"But in the room they entered, the dirty, ragged, miserable -crew were all in active performance of their various tasks; the -overlookers, strap in hand, on the alert; the whirling spindles -urging the little slaves who waited on them to movements as unceasing -as their own; and the whole monstrous chamber redolent -of all the various impurities that 'by the perfection of our manufacturing -system' are converted into 'gales of Araby' for the -rich, after passing, in the shape of certain poison, through the -lungs of the poor. So Sir Matthew proudly looked about him -and approved; and though it was athwart that species of haughty -frown in which such dignity as his is apt to clothe itself, Dr. -Crockley failed not to perceive that his friend and patron was in -good humour, and likely to be pleased by any light and lively -jestings in which he might indulge. Perceiving, therefore, that -little Michael passed on with downcast eyes, unrecognised by -any, he wrote upon a slip of paper, for he knew his voice could -not be heard—'Make the boy take that bare-legged scavenger -wench round the neck, and give her a kiss while she is next lying -down, and let us see them sprawling together.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"Sir Matthew read the scroll, and grinned applause.</p> - -<p class="i1">"The miserable creature to whom the facetious doctor pointed, -was a little girl about seven years old, whose office as 'scavenger' -was to collect incessantly, from the machinery and from the floor, -the flying fragments of cotton that might impede the work. In -the performance of this duty, the child was obliged, from time to -time, to stretch itself with sudden quickness on the ground, while -the hissing machinery passed over her; and when this is skilfully -done, and the head, body, and outstretched limbs carefully glued -to the floor, the steady-moving but threatening mass may pass and -repass over the dizzy head and trembling body without touching -it. But accidents frequently occur; and many are the flaxen -locks rudely torn from infant heads, in the process.</p> - -<p class="i1">"It was a sort of vague hope that something comical of this kind -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[Pg 164]</a></span> -might occur, which induced Dr. Crockley to propose this frolic to -his friend, and probably the same idea suggested itself to Sir -Matthew likewise.</p> - -<p class="i1">"'I say, Master Michael!' vociferated the knight, in a scream -which successfully struggled with the din, 'show your old acquaintance -that pride has not got the upper hand of you in your -fine clothes. Take scavenger No. 3, there, round the neck; now—now—now, -as she lies sprawling, and let us see you give her a -hearty kiss.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"The stern and steady machinery moved onward, passing over -the body of the little girl, who owed her safety to the miserable -leanness of her shrunken frame; but Michael moved not.</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Are you deaf, you little vermin?' roared Sir Matthew. 'Now -she's down again. Do what I bid you, or, by the living God, you -shall smart for it!'</p> - -<p class="i1">"Still Michael did not stir, neither did he speak; or if he did, -his young voice was wholly inaudible, and the anger of Sir Matthew -was demonstrated by a clenched fist and threatening brow. -'Where the devil is Parsons?' he demanded, in accents that poor -Michael both heard and understood. 'Fine as he is, the strap -will do him good.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"In saying this, the great man turned to reconnoitre the space -he had traversed, and by which his confidential servant must -approach, and found that he was already within a good yard -of him.</p> - -<p class="i1">"'That's good—I want you, Parsons. Do you see this little -rebel here, that I have dressed and treated like one of my own -children? What d'ye think of his refusing to kiss Miss No. 3, -scavenger, when I bid him?'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'The devil he does?' said the manager, grinning: 'we must -see if we can't mend that. Mind your hits, Master Piecer, and -salute the young lady when the mules go back, like a gentleman.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"Sir Matthew perceived that his favourite agent feared to enforce -his first brutal command, and was forced, therefore, to content -himself with seeing the oiled and grimy face of the filthy little -girl in contact with that of the now clean and delicate-looking -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[Pg 165]</a></span> -Michael. But he felt he had been foiled, and cast a glance upon -his <i>protégé</i>, which seemed to promise that he would not forget -it."</p></div> - -<p class="i1">Nor is the delineation, in the following verses, by -Francis M. Blake, less truthful and touching:—</p> - -<p class="ac">THE FACTORY CHILD.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> - <div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse">Early one winter's morning,</div> - <div class="verse indent-2">The weather wet and wild,</div> - <div class="verse">Some hours before the dawning,</div> - <div class="verse indent-2">A father call'd his child;</div> - <div class="verse">Her daily morsel bringing,</div> - <div class="verse indent-2">The darksome room he paced,</div> - <div class="verse">And cried, "The bell is ringing—</div> - <div class="verse indent-2">My hapless darling, haste."</div> - </div> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse">"Father, I'm up, but weary,</div> - <div class="verse indent-2">I scarce can reach the door,</div> - <div class="verse">And long the way and dreary—</div> - <div class="verse indent-2">Oh, carry me once more!</div> - <div class="verse">To help us we've no mother,</div> - <div class="verse indent-2">To live how hard we try—</div> - <div class="verse">They kill'd my little brother—</div> - <div class="verse indent-2">Like him I'll work and die!"</div> - </div> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse">His feeble arms they bore her,</div> - <div class="verse indent-2">The storm was loud and wild—</div> - <div class="verse">God of the poor man, hear him!</div> - <div class="verse indent-2">He prays, "Oh, save my child!"</div> - <div class="verse">Her wasted form seem'd nothing—</div> - <div class="verse indent-2">The load was in his heart;</div> - <div class="verse">The sufferer he kept soothing,</div> - <div class="verse indent-2">Till at the mill they part.</div> - </div> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse">The overlooker met her, - <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[Pg 166]</a></span></div> - <div class="verse indent-2">As to the frame she crept,</div> - <div class="verse">And with the thong he beat her,</div> - <div class="verse indent-2">And cursed her as she wept.</div> - <div class="verse">Alas! what hours of horror</div> - <div class="verse indent-2">Made up her latest day!</div> - <div class="verse">In toil, and pain, and sorrow,</div> - <div class="verse indent-2">They slowly pass'd away.</div> - </div> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse">It seem'd, as she grew weaker,</div> - <div class="verse indent-2">The threads the oftener broke,</div> - <div class="verse">The rapid wheels ran quicker,</div> - <div class="verse indent-2">And heavier fell the stroke.</div> - <div class="verse">The sun had long descended,</div> - <div class="verse indent-2">But night brought no repose:</div> - <div class="verse"><i>Her</i> day began and ended</div> - <div class="verse indent-2">As her task-masters chose.</div> - </div> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse">Then to her little neighbour</div> - <div class="verse indent-2">Her only cent she paid,</div> - <div class="verse">To take her last hour's labour,</div> - <div class="verse indent-2">While by her frame she laid.</div> - <div class="verse">At last, the engine ceasing,</div> - <div class="verse indent-2">The captives homeward flee,</div> - <div class="verse">One thought her strength increasing—</div> - <div class="verse indent-2">Her parent soon to see.</div> - </div> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse">She left, but oft she tarried,</div> - <div class="verse indent-2">She fell, and rose no more,</div> - <div class="verse">But by her comrades carried,</div> - <div class="verse indent-2">She reach'd her father's door.</div> - <div class="verse">All night with tortured feeling,</div> - <div class="verse indent-2">He watch'd his speechless child;</div> - <div class="verse">While close beside her kneeling,</div> - <div class="verse indent-2">She knew him not, nor smiled.</div> - </div> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse">Again the loud bell's ringing, - <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[Pg 167]</a></span></div> - <div class="verse indent-2">Her last perceptions tried,</div> - <div class="verse">When, from her straw bed springing,</div> - <div class="verse indent-2">"'Tis time!" she shriek'd, and—died.</div> - <div class="verse">That night a chariot pass'd her,</div> - <div class="verse indent-2">While on the ground she lay,</div> - <div class="verse">The daughters of her master</div> - <div class="verse indent-2">An evening visit pay;</div> - <div class="verse">Their tender hearts were sighing,</div> - <div class="verse indent-2">As negro wrongs were told,</div> - <div class="verse">While the white slave was dying,</div> - <div class="verse indent-2">Who gain'd their father's gold!</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[Pg 168]</a></span></p> - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IV" id="CHAPTER_IV"></a>CHAPTER IV.</h2> -</div> - -<p class="ac">SLAVERY IN THE BRITISH WORKSHOPS.</p> - - -<p class="i1"><span class="sc">When</span> Captain Hugh Clapperton, the celebrated -English traveller, visited Bello, the sultan of the -Felatahs, at Sackatoo, he made the monarch some presents, -in the name of his majesty the king of England. -These were—two new blunderbusses, a pair of double-barrelled -pistols, a pocket compass, an embroidered -jacket, a scarlet bornonse, a pair of scarlet breeches, -thirty-four yards of silk, two turban shawls, four -pounds of cloves, four pounds of cinnamon, three cases -of gunpowder with shot and balls, three razors, three -clasp-knives, three looking-glasses, six snuff-boxes, a -spy-glass, and a large tea-tray. The sultan said—"Every -thing is wonderful, but you are the greatest -curiosity of all!" and then added, "What can I give -that is most acceptable to the king of England?" -Clapperton replied—"The most acceptable service you -can render to the king of England is to co-operate with -his majesty in putting a stop to the slave-trade on the -coast, as the king of England sends large ships to -cruise there, for the sole purpose of seizing all vessels -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[Pg 169]</a></span> -engaged in this trade, whose crews are thrown into -prison, and of liberating the unfortunate slaves, on -whom lands and houses are conferred, at one of our -settlements in Africa." "What!" exclaimed the sultan, -"have you no slaves in England?" "No: whenever -a slave sets his foot in England, he is from that -moment free," replied Clapperton. "What do you -then do for servants?" inquired the sultan. "We hire -them for a stated period, and give them regular wages; -nor is any person in England allowed to strike another; -and the very soldiers are fed, clothed, and paid by the -government," replied the English captain. "God is -great!" exclaimed the sultan. "You are a beautiful -people." Clapperton had succeeded in putting a beautiful -illusion upon the sultan's imagination, as some -English writers have endeavoured to do among the -civilized nations of the earth. If the sultan had been -taken to England, to see the freedom of the "servants" -in the workshops, perhaps he would have exclaimed—"God -is great! Slaves are plenty."</p> - -<p class="i1">The condition of the apprentices in the British -workshops is at least as bad as that of the children in -the factories. According to the second report of the -commissioners appointed by Parliament, the degrading -system of involuntary apprenticeship—in many cases -without the consent of parents—and merely according -to the regulations of the brutal guardians of the workhouses, -is general. The commissioners say -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[Pg 170]</a></span>—</p> - -<div class="bq"> - -<p class="i1">"That in some trades, those especially requiring skilled workmen, -these apprentices are bound by legal indentures, usually at -the age of fourteen, and for a term of seven years, the age being -rarely younger, and the period of servitude very seldom longer; -but by far the greater number are bound <i>without any prescribed -legal forms</i>, and in almost all these cases they are required to -serve their masters, <i>at whatever age they may commence their apprenticeship, -until they attain the age of twenty-one</i>, in some instances -in employments in which there is nothing deserving the -name of skill to be acquired, and in other instances in employments -in which they are taught to make only one particular part -of the article manufactured: <i>so that at the end of their servitude -they are altogether unable to make any one article of their trade in -a complete state</i>. That a large proportion of these apprentices -consist of orphans, or are the children of widows, or belong to -the very poorest families, and frequently are apprenticed by -boards of guardians.</p> - -<p class="i1">"That in these districts it is common for parents to borrow -money of the employers, and to stipulate, by express agreement, -to repay it from their children's wages; a practice which prevails -likewise in Birmingham and Warrington: in most other places -no evidence was discovered of its existence."—<i>Second Report of -the Commissioners</i>, p. 195, 196.</p></div> - -<p class="i1">Here we have a fearful text on which to comment. -In these few sentences we see the disclosure of a system -which, if followed out and abused, must produce a -state of slavery of the very worst and most oppressive -character. To show that it <i>is</i> thus abused, here are -some extracts from the Reports on the Wolverhampton -district, to which the Central Board of Commissioners -direct special attention:—</p> - -<div class="bq"> - -<p class="i1">"The peculiar trade of the Wolverhampton district, with the -exception of a very few large proprietors, is in the hands of a -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[Pg 171]</a></span> -great number of small masters, who are personally known only to -some of the foremen of the factors to whom they take their work, -and scarcely one of whom is sufficiently important to have his name -over his door or his workshop in front of a street. In the town of -Wolverhampton alone there are of these small masters, for example, -two hundred and sixty locksmiths, sixty or seventy key-makers, -from twenty to thirty screwmakers, and a like number of latch, -bolt, snuffer, tobacco-box, and spectacle frame and case makers. -Each of these small masters, if they have not children of their -own, generally employ from one to three apprentices."—<i>Horne, -Report</i>; App. pt. ii. p. 2. s. 13 et seq.</p></div> - -<p class="i1">The workshops of the small masters are usually of -the dirtiest, most dilapidated, and confined description, -and situated in the most filthy and undrained localities, -at the back of their wretched abodes.</p> - -<div class="bq"> - -<p class="i1">"There are two modes of obtaining apprentices in this district, -namely, the legal one of application to magistrates or boards of -guardians for sanction of indentures; and, secondly, the illegal -mode of taking the children to be bound by an attorney, without -any such reference to the proper authorities. There are many -more bound by this illegal mode than by the former.</p> - -<p class="i1">"In all cases, the children, of whatever age, are bound till they -attain the age of twenty-one years. If the child be only seven -years of age, the period of servitude remains the same, however -simple the process or nature of the trade to be learnt. During -the first year or two, if the apprentice be very young, he is -merely used to run errands, do dirty household work, nurse infants, -&c.</p> - -<p class="i1">"If the master die before the apprentice attain the age of -twenty-one years, the apprentice is equally bound as the servant -of his deceased master's heirs, executors, administrators, and -assigns—in fact, the apprentice is part of the deceased master's -goods and chattels. Whoever, therefore, may carry on the trade, -he is the servant of such person or persons until his manumission -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[Pg 172]</a></span> -is obtained by reaching his one-and-twentieth year. The apprentice -has no regular pocket-money allowed him by the master. -Sometimes a few halfpence are given to him. An apprentice of -eighteen or nineteen years of age often has 2<i>d.</i> or 3<i>d.</i> a week -given him, but never as a rightful claim."—<i>Second Report of -Commissioners.</i></p> - -<p class="i1">"Among other witnesses, the superintendent registrar states -that in those trades particularly in which the work is by the -piece, the growth of the children is injured; that in these cases -more especially their strength is over-taxed for profit. One of the -constables of the town says that 'there are examples without -number in the place, of deformed men and boys; their backs or -their legs, and often both, grow wrong; the backs grow out and -the legs grow in at the knees—hump-backed and knock-kneed. -There is most commonly only one leg turned in—a K leg; it is -occasioned by standing all day for years filing at a vice; the hind -leg grows in—the leg that is hindermost. Thinks that among the -adults of the working classes of Willenhall, whose work is all -forging and filing, one-third of the number are afflicted with -hernia,' &c."—<i>Horne, Evidence</i>, p. 28, No. 128.</p></div> - -<p class="i1">As the profits of many of the masters are small, it -may be supposed that the apprentices do not get the -best of food, shelter, and clothing. We have the evidence -of Henry Nicholls Payne, superintendent registrar -of Wolverhampton, Henry Hill, Esq., magistrate, -and Paul Law, of Wolverhampton, that it is common -for masters to buy offal meat, and the meat of animals -that have died from all manner of causes, for the food -of apprentices. The clothing of these poor creatures -is but thin tatters for all seasons. The apprentices -constantly complain that they do not get enough to -eat.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[Pg 173]</a></span></p> - -<div class="bq"> - -<p class="i1">"They are frequently fed," says the sub-commissioner, "especially -during the winter season, on red herrings, potatoes, -bread with lard upon it, and have not always sufficient even of -this.</p> - -<p class="i1">"Their living is poor; they have not enough to eat. Did not -know what it was to have butcher's meat above once a week; -often a red herring was divided between two for dinner. The -boys are often clemmed, (almost starved;) have often been to -his house to ask for a bit of pudding—are frequent complaints. -In some trades, particularly in the casting-shops of founderies, -in the shops in which general forge or smith's work is done, and -in the shops of the small locksmiths, screwmakers, &c., there are -no regular meal-hours, but the children swallow their food as they -can, during their work, often while noxious fumes or dust are flying -about, and perhaps with noxious compositions in their unwashed -hands."</p></div> - -<p class="i1">The apprentices employed in nail-making are described -as so many poorly fed and poorly clad slaves. -Almost the whole population of Upper Sedgley and -Upper Gormal, and nearly one-half of the population -of Coseley, are employed in nail-making. The nails are -made at forges by the hammer, and these forges, which -are the workshops, are usually at the backs of the -wretched hovels in which the work-people reside. -"The best kind of forges," says Mr. Horne, "are little -brick shops, of about fifteen feet long and twelve feet -wide, in which seven or eight individuals constantly -work together, with no ventilation except the door, and -two slits, or loopholes, in the wall; but the great -majority of these work-places are very much smaller, -(about ten feet long by nine wide,) filthily dirty; and on -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[Pg 174]</a></span> -looking in upon one of them when the fire is not -lighted, presents the appearance of a dilapidated coal-hole, -or little black den." In these places children -are first put to labour from the ages of seven to eight, -where they continue to work daily, from six o'clock in -the morning till seven or eight at night; and on weigh-days—the -days the nails are taken to the factors—from -three or four in the morning till nine at night. They -gradually advance in the number of nails they are required -to make per day, till they arrive at the <i>stint</i> of -one thousand. A girl or boy of from ten to twelve -years of age continually accomplishes this arduous -task from day to day, and week to week. Their food -at the same time is, in general, insufficient, their clothing -miserable, and the wretchedness of their dwellings -almost unparalleled.</p> - -<div class="bq"> - -<p class="i1">"Throughout the long descent of the main roadway, or rather -sludgeway, of Lower Gormal," says Mr. Horne, "and throughout -the very long winding and straggling roadway of Coseley, I never -saw one abode of a working family which had the least appearance -of comfort or wholesomeness, while the immense majority -were of the most wretched and sty-like description. The effect -of these unfavourable circumstances is greatly to injure the -health of the children, and to stop their growth; and it is remarkable -that the boys are more injured than the girls, because -the girls are not put to work as early as the boys by two years or -more. They appear to bear the heat of the forges better, and -they sometimes even become strong by their work."</p></div> - -<p class="i1">The children employed in nail-making, in Scotland, -evince the nature of their toil by their emaciated looks -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[Pg 175]</a></span> -and stunted growth. They are clothed in apparel in -which many paupers would not dress; and they are -starved into quickness at their work, as their meals -depend on the quantity of work accomplished.</p> - -<p class="i1">In the manufacture of earthenware there are many -young slaves employed. The mould-runners are an -especially pitiable class of workmen; they receive on a -mould the ware as it is formed by the workmen, and -carry it to the stove-room, where both mould and ware -are arranged on shelves to dry. The same children -liberate the mould when sufficiently dry, and carry it -back to receive a fresh supply of ware, to be in like -manner deposited on the shelves. They are also generally -required by the workmen to "wedge their clay;" -that is, to lift up large lumps of clay, which are to be -thrown down forcibly on a hard surface to free the clay -from air and to render it more compact. Excepting -when thus engaged, they are constantly "on the run" -from morning till night, always carrying a considerable -weight. These children are generally pale, thin, weak, -and unhealthy.</p> - -<p class="i1">In the manufacture of glass the toil and suffering of -the apprentices, as recorded in the evidence before the -commissioners, are extreme. One witness said—</p> - -<div class="bq"> - -<p class="i1">"From his experience he thinks the community has no idea of -what a boy at a bottle-work goes through; 'it would never be -allowed, if it were known;' he knows himself; he has been carried -home from fair fatigue; and on two several occasions, when -laid in bed, could not rest, and had to be taken out and laid on -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[Pg 176]</a></span> -the floor. These boys begin work on Sabbath evenings at ten -o'clock, and are not at home again till between one and three on -Monday afternoon. The drawing the bottles out of the arches is -a work which no child should be allowed, on any consideration, -to do; he himself has been obliged several times to have planks -put in to walk on, which have caught fire under the feet; and a -woollen cap over the ears and always mits on the hands; and a -boy cannot generally stop in them above five minutes. There is -no man that works in a bottle-work, but will corroborate the -statement that such work checks the growth of the body; the irregularity -and the unnatural times of work cause the boys and men -to feel in a sort of stupor or dulness from heavy sweats and irregular -hours. The boys work harder than any man in the works; -all will allow that. From their experience of the bad effect on -the health, witness and five others left the work, and none but -one ever went to a bottle-work after."</p></div> - -<p class="i1">The young females apprenticed to dressmakers suffer -greatly from over-work and bad treatment, as has long -been known. John Dalrymple, Esq., Assistant Surgeon, -Royal London Ophthalmic Hospital, narrates the following -case:—</p> - -<div class="bq"> - -<p class="i1">"A delicate and beautiful young woman, an orphan, applied -at the hospital for very defective vision, and her symptoms were -precisely as just described. Upon inquiry it was ascertained that -she had been apprenticed to a milliner, and was in her last year -of indentureship. Her working hours were eighteen in the day, -occasionally even more; her meals were snatched with scarcely -an interval of a few minutes from work, and her general health -was evidently assuming a tendency to consumption. An appeal -was made, by my directions, to her mistress for relaxation; but -the reply was that, in the last year of her apprenticeship, her -labours had become valuable, and that her mistress was entitled to -them as a recompense for teaching. Subsequently a threat of appeal -to the Lord Mayor, and a belief that a continuation of the -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[Pg 177]</a></span> -occupation would soon render the apprentice incapable of labour, -induced the mistress to cancel the indentures, and the victim was -saved."</p></div> - -<p class="i1">Frederick Tyrrell, Esq., Surgeon to the London Ophthalmic -Hospital, and to St. Thomas's Hospital, mentions -a case equally distressing:—</p> - -<div class="bq"> - -<p class="i1">"A fair and delicate girl, about seventeen years of age, was -brought to witness in consequence of total loss of vision. She -had experienced the train of symptoms which have been detailed, -to the fullest extent. On examination, both eyes were found disorganized, -and recovery therefore was hopeless. She had been -an apprentice as a dress-maker at the west end of the town; and -some time before her vision became affected, her general health -had been materially deranged from too close confinement and -excessive work. The immediate cause of the disease in the eyes -was excessive and continued application to making mourning. -She stated that she had been compelled to remain without changing -her dress for nine days and nights consecutively; that during -this period she had been permitted only occasionally to rest on a -mattrass placed on the floor, for an hour or two at a time; and -that her meals were placed at her side, cut up, so that as little -time as possible should be spent in their consumption. Witness -regrets that he did not, in this and a few other cases nearly as -flagrant and distressing, induce the sufferers to appeal to a jury -for compensation."</p></div> - -<p class="i1">It may be asserted, without fear of successful contradiction, -that, in proportion to the numbers employed, -there are no occupations in which so much disease is -produced as in dress-making. The report of a sub-commissioner -states that it is a "serious aggravation -of this evil, that the unkindness of the employer very -frequently causes these young persons, when they become -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[Pg 178]</a></span> -unwell, to conceal their illness, from the fear of -being sent out of the house; and in this manner the -disease often becomes increased in severity, or is even -rendered incurable. Some of the principals are so -cruel, as to object to the young women obtaining medical -assistance."</p> - -<div class="figcenter"><a name="i_179.jpg" id="i_179.jpg"></a> - <img src="images/i_179.jpg" - alt="" /> - <div class="caption">SLAVES OF THE NEEDLE.</div> -</div> - -<p class="i1">The London Times, in an exceedingly able article -upon "Seamstress Slavery," thus describes the terrible -system:—</p> - -<div class="bq"> - -<p class="i1">"Granting that the negro gangs who are worked on the cotton -grounds of the Southern States of North America, or in the sugar -plantations of Brazil, are slaves, in what way should we speak -of persons who are circumstanced in the manner we are about to -relate? Let us consider them as inhabitants of a distant region—say -of New Orleans—no matter about the colour of their skins, -and then ask ourselves what should be our opinion of a nation in -which such things are tolerated. They are of a sex and age the -least qualified to struggle with the hardships of their lot—young -women, for the most part, between sixteen and thirty years of -age. As we would not deal in exaggerations, we would promise -that we take them at their busy season, just as writers upon -American slavery are careful to select the season of cotton-picking -and sugar-crushing as illustrations of their theories. The -young female slaves, then, of whom we speak, are worked in -gangs, in ill-ventilated rooms, or rooms that are not ventilated at -all; for it is found by experience that if air be admitted it brings -with it "blacks" of another kind, which damage the work upon -which the seamstresses are employed. Their occupation is to -sew from morning till night and night till morning—stitch, stitch, -stitch—without pause, without speech, without a smile, without a -sigh. In the gray of the morning they must be at work, say at -six o'clock, having a quarter of an hour allowed them for breaking -their fast. The food served out to them is scanty and miserable -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[Pg 179]</a></span> -enough, but still, in all probability, more than their fevered -system can digest. We do not, however, wish to make out a case -of starvation; the suffering is of another kind, equally dreadful -of endurance. From six o'clock till eleven it is stitch, stitch. At -eleven a small piece of dry bread is served to each seamstress, -but still she must stitch on. At one o'clock, twenty minutes are -allowed for dinner—a slice of meat and a potato, with a glass of -toast-and-water to each workwoman. Then again to work—stitch, -stitch, until five o'clock, when fifteen minutes are again allowed -for tea. The needles are then set in motion once more—stitch, -stitch, until nine o'clock, when fifteen minutes are allowed for -supper—a piece of dry bread and cheese and a glass of beer. -From nine o'clock at night until one, two, and three o'clock in -the morning, stitch, stitch; the only break in this long period -being a minute or two—just time enough to swallow a cup of -strong tea, which is supplied lest the young people should 'feel -sleepy.' At three o'clock <span class="sc">A.M.</span>, to bed; at six o'clock -<span class="sc">A.M.</span>, -out of it again to resume the duties of the following day. There -must be a good deal of monotony in the occupation.</p> - -<p class="i1">"But when we have said that for certain months in the year -these unfortunate young persons are worked in the manner we -describe, we have not said all. Even during the few hours allotted -to sleep—should we not rather say to a feverish cessation -from toil—their miseries continue. They are cooped up in sleeping-pens, -ten in a room which would perhaps be sufficient for the -accommodation of two persons. The alternation is from the -treadmill—and what a treadmill!—to the Black Hole of Calcutta. -Not a word of remonstrance is allowed, or is possible. -The seamstresses may leave the mill, no doubt, but what awaits -them on the other side of the door?—starvation, if they be honest; -if not, in all probability, prostitution and its consequence. They -would scarcely escape from slavery that way. Surely this is a -terrible state of things, and one which claims the anxious consideration -of the ladies of England who have pronounced themselves -so loudly against the horrors of negro slavery in the United -States. Had this system of oppression against persons of their -own sex been really exercised in New Orleans, it would have -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[Pg 180]</a></span> -elicited from them many expressions of sympathy for the sufferers, -and of abhorrence for the cruel task-masters who could so -cruelly over-work wretched creatures so unfitted for the toil. -It is idle to use any further mystification in the matter. The -scenes of misery we have described exist at our own doors, and -in the most fashionable quarters of luxurious London. It is in -the dress-making and millinery establishments of the 'West-end' -that the system is steadily pursued. The continuous labour is bestowed -upon the gay garments in which the 'ladies of England' -love to adorn themselves. It is to satisfy their whims and caprices -that their wretched sisters undergo these days and nights -of suffering and toil. It is but right that we should confess the -fault does not lie so much at the door of the customers as with -the principals of these establishments. The milliners and dressmakers -of the metropolis will not employ hands enough to do the -work. They increase their profits from the blood and life of the -wretched creatures in their employ. Certainly the prices charged -for articles of dress at any of the great West-end establishments -are sufficiently high—as most English heads of families know to -their cost—to enable the proprietors to retain a competent staff -of work-people, and at the same time to secure a very handsome -profit to themselves. Wherein, then, lies the remedy? Will the -case of these poor seamstresses be bettered if the ladies of England -abstain partially, or in great measure, from giving their usual -orders to their usual houses? In that case it may be said some -of the seamstresses will be dismissed to starvation, and the remainder -will be over-worked as before. We freely confess we do -not see our way through the difficulty; for we hold the most improbable -event in our social arrangements to be the fact, that a -lady of fashion will employ a second-rate instead of a first-rate -house for the purchase of her annual finery. The leading milliners -and dressmakers of London have hold of English society -at both ends. They hold the ladies by their vanity and their -love of fine clothes, and the seamstresses by what appears to be -their interest and by their love of life. Now, love of fine -clothes and love of life are two very strong motive springs of -human action."</p></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[Pg 181]</a></span></p> - -<p class="i1">In confirmation of this thrilling representation of the -seamstress slavery in London, the following letter subsequently -appeared in the Times:—</p> - -<div class="bq"> - -<p>"<i>To the Editor of the Times</i>:</p> - -<p class="i1">"Sir,—May I beg of you to insert this letter in your valuable -paper at your earliest convenience, relative to the letters of the -'First Hand?' I can state, without the slightest hesitation, that -they are perfectly true. My poor sister was apprenticed to one -of those fashionable West-end houses, and my father paid the -large sum of £40 only to procure for his daughter a lingering -death. I was allowed to visit her during her illness; I found her -in a very small room, which two large beds would fill. In this -room there were six children's bedsteads, and these were each to -contain three grown-up young women. In consequence of my -sister being so ill, she was allowed, on payment of 5<i>s.</i> per week, -a bed to herself—one so small it might be called a cradle. The -doctor who attended her when dying, can authenticate this letter.</p> - -<p class="i1">"Apologizing for encroaching on your valuable time, I remain -your obedient servant,</p> - -<p class="ar"><span class="sc">A Poor Clerk</span>."</p> - -<p class="i1">Many witnesses attest the ferocious bodily chastisement -inflicted upon male apprentices in workshops:—</p> - -<div class="bq"> - -<p class="i1">"In Sedgley they are sometimes struck with a red-hot iron, -and burned and bruised simultaneously; sometimes they have -'a flash of lightning' sent at them. When a bar of iron is drawn -white-hot from the forge it emits fiery particles, which the man -commonly flings in a shower upon the ground by a swing of his -arm, before placing the bar upon the anvil. This shower is sometimes -directed at the boy. It may come over his hands and face, -his naked arms, or on his breast. If his shirt be open in front, -which is usually the case, the red-hot particles are lodged therein, -and he has to shake them out as fast as he can."—<i>Horne, Report</i>, -p. 76, § 757. See also witnesses, p. 56, 1. 24; p. 59, 1. 54.</p> - -<p class="i1">"In Darlaston, however, the children appear to be very little -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[Pg 182]</a></span> -beaten, and in Bilston there were only a few instances of cruel -treatment: 'the boys are kicked and cuffed abundantly, but not -with any vicious or cruel intention, and only with an idea that -this is getting the work done.'"—Ibid. p. 62, 65, §§ 660, 688.</p> - -<p class="i1">"In Wednesbury the treatment is better than in any other -town in the district. The boys are not generally subject to any -severe corporal chastisement, though a few cases of ill-treatment -occasionally occur. 'A few months ago an adult workman broke -a boy's arm by a blow with a piece of iron; the boy went to school -till his arm got well; his father and mother thought it a good -opportunity to give him some schooling.'"—Ibid. <i>Evidence</i>, No. -331.</p> - -<p class="i1">"But the class of children in this district the most abused and -oppressed are the apprentices, and particularly those who are -bound to the small masters among the locksmiths, key and bolt -makers, screwmakers, &c. Even among these small masters, -there are respectable and humane men, who do not suffer any -degree of poverty to render them brutal; but many of these men -treat their apprentices not so much with neglect and harshness, -as with ferocious violence, the result of unbridled passions, excited -often by ardent spirits, acting on bodies exhausted by over-work, -and on minds which have never received the slightest moral -or religious culture, and which, therefore, never exercise the -smallest moral or religious restraint."—Ibid.</p></div> - -<p class="i1">Evidence from all classes,—masters, journeymen, residents, -magistrates, clergymen, constables, and, above -all, from the mouths of the poor oppressed sufferers -themselves, is adduced to a heart-breaking extent. The -public has been excited to pity by Dickens's picture of -Smike—in Willenhall, there are many Smikes.</p> - -<div class="bq"> - -<p class="i1">"—— ——, aged sixteen: 'His master stints him from six in -the morning till ten and sometimes eleven at night, as much as -ever he can do; and if he don't do it, his master gives him no -supper, and gives him a good hiding, sometimes with a big strap, -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[Pg 183]</a></span> -sometimes with a big stick. His master has cut his head open five -times—once with a key and twice with a lock; knocked the corner -of a lock into his head twice—once with an iron bolt, and -once with an iron shut—a thing that runs into the staple. His -master's name is —— ——, of Little London. There is another -apprentice besides him, who is treated just as bad.'"—Ibid. p. -32, 1. 4.</p> - -<p class="i1">"—— ——, aged fifteen: 'Works at knob-locks with —— ——. -Is a fellow-apprentice with —— ——. Lives in the house of his -master. Is beaten by his master, who hits him sometimes with -his fists, and sometimes with the file-haft, and sometimes with a -stick—it's no matter what when he's a bit cross; sometimes hits -him with the locks; has cut his head open four or five times; so -he has his fellow apprentice's head. Once when he cut his head -open with a key, thinks half a pint of blood run off him.'"—Ibid. -p. 32, 1. 19.</p> - -<p class="i1">"—— ——, aged fourteen: 'Has been an in-door apprentice -three years. Has no wages; nobody gets any wages for him. -Has to serve till he is twenty-one. His master behaves very bad. -His mistress behaves worse, like a devil; she beats him; knocks -his head against the wall. His master goes out a-drinking, and -when he comes back, if any thing's gone wrong that he (the boy) -knows nothing about, he is beat all the same.'"—Ibid. p. 32, 1. 36.</p> - -<p class="i1">"—— ——, aged sixteen: 'His master sometimes hits him -with his fist, sometimes kicks him; gave him the black eye he -has got; beat him in bed while he was asleep, at five in the -morning, because he was not up to work. He came up-stairs -and set about him—set about him with his fist. Has been over -to the public office, Brummagem, to complain; took a note with -him, which was written for him; his brother gave it to the public -office there, but they would not attend to it; they said they -could do no good, and gave the note back. He had been beaten -at that time with a whip-handle—it made wales all down his arms -and back and all; everybody he showed it to said it was scandalous. -Wishes he could be released from his master, who's never -easy but when he's a-beating of me. Never has enough to eat at -no time; ax him for more, he won't gie it me.'"—Ibid. p. 30, 1. 5.</p></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[Pg 184]</a></span></p> - -<div class="bq"> - -<p class="i1">"—— ——, aged seventeen: 'Has no father or mother to take -his part. His master once cut his head open with a flat file-haft, -and used to pull his ears nearly off; they bled so he was obliged to -go into the house to wipe them with a cloth,'"—Ibid. p. 37, 1. 7.</p> - -<p class="i1">"—— ——, aged fifteen: 'The neighbours who live agen the -shop will say how his master beats him; beats him with a strap, -and sometimes a nut-stick; sometimes the wales remain upon -him for a week; his master once cut his eyelid open, cut a hole -in it, and it bled all over his files that he was working with,'"—Ibid. -p. 37, 1. 47.</p> - -<p class="i1">"—— ——, aged 18: 'His master once ran at him with a -hammer, and drove the iron-head of the hammer into his side—he -felt it for weeks; his master often knocks him down on the -shop-floor; he can't tell what it's all for, no more than you can; -don't know what it can be for unless it's this, his master thinks -he don't do enough work for him. When he is beaten, his master -does not lay it on very heavy, as some masters do, only beats him -for five minutes at a time; should think that was enough, -though.'"—<i>Horne, Evidence</i>, p. 37, 1. 57.</p></div> - -<p class="i1">All this exists in a Christian land! Surely telescopic -philanthropists must be numerous in Great Britain. -Wonderful to relate, there are many persons instrumental -in sustaining this barbarous system, who profess -a holy horror of slavery, and who seldom rise up -or lie down without offering prayers on behalf of the -African bondsmen, thousands of miles away. Verily, -there are many people in this motley world so organized -that they can scent corruption "afar off," but gain no -knowledge of the foulness under their very noses.</p> - -<p class="i1">Henry Mayhew, in his "London Labour and the -London Poor," gives some very interesting information -in regard to the workshops in the great metropolis of -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[Pg 185]</a></span> -the British Empire. "In the generality of trades, the -calculation is that one-third of the hands are fully employed, -one-third partially, and one-third unemployed -throughout the year." The wages of those who are -regularly employed being scant, what must be the condition -of those whose employment is but casual and precarious? -Mayhew says—</p> - -<div class="bq"> - -<p class="i1">"The hours of labour in mechanical callings are usually twelve, -two of them devoted to meals, or seventy-two hours (less by the -permitted intervals) in a week. In the course of my inquiries for -the <i>Chronicle</i>, I met with slop cabinet-makers, tailors, and milliners, -who worked sixteen hours and more daily, their toil being only -interrupted by the necessity of going out, if small masters, to -purchase materials, and offer the goods for sale; or, if journeymen -in the slop trade, to obtain more work and carry what was -completed to the master's shop. They worked on Sundays also; -one tailor told me that the coat he worked at on the previous -Sunday was for the Rev. Mr. ——, who 'little thought it,' and -these slop-workers rarely give above a few minutes to a meal. -Thus they toil forty hours beyond the hours usual in an honourable -trade, (112 hours instead of 72,) in the course of a week, or -between three and four days of the regular hours of work of the -six working days. In other words, two such men will in less -than a week accomplish work which should occupy three men a -full week; or 1000 men will execute labour fairly calculated to -employ 1500 at the least. A paucity of employment is thus -caused among the general body, by this system of over-labour -decreasing the share of work accruing to the several operatives, -and so adding to surplus hands.</p> - -<p class="i1">"Of over-work, as regards excessive labour, both in the general -and fancy cabinet trade, I heard the following accounts, which -different operatives concurred in giving; while some represented -the labour as of longer duration by at least an hour, and some -by two hours a day, than I have stated.</p></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[Pg 186]</a></span></p> - -<div class="bq"> - -<p class="i1">"The labour of the men who depend entirely on 'the slaughter-houses' -for the purchase of their articles is usually seven -days a week the year through. That is, seven days—for Sunday-work -is all but universal—each of thirteen hours, or ninety-one -hours in all; while the established hours of labour in the -'honourable trade' are six days of the week, each of ten hours, -or sixty hours in all. Thus fifty per cent. is added to the extent -of the production of low-priced cabinet work, merely from 'over-hours'; -but in some cases I heard of fifteen hours for seven days -in the week, or 105 hours in all.</p> - -<p class="i1">"Concerning the hours of labour in this trade, I had the following -minute particulars from a garret-master who was a chair-maker:—</p> - -<p class="i1">"'I work from six every morning to nine at night; some work -till ten. My breakfast at eight stops me for ten minutes. I can -breakfast in less time, but it's a rest. My dinner takes me say -twenty minutes at the outside; and my tea eight minutes. All -the rest of the time I'm slaving at my bench. How many -minutes' rest is that, sir? Thirty-eight; well, say three-quarters -of an hour, and that allows a few sucks at a pipe when I rest; -but I can smoke and work too. I have only one room to work -and eat in, or I should lose more time. Altogether, I labour -fourteen and a quarter hours every day, and I must work on Sundays—at -least forty Sundays in the year. One may as well work -as sit fretting. But on Sundays I only work till it's dusk, or till -five or six in summer. When it's dusk I take a walk. I'm not -well dressed enough for a Sunday walk when it's light, and I -can't wear my apron on that day very well to hide patches. But -there's eight hours that I reckon I take up every week, one with -another, in dancing about to the slaughterers. I'm satisfied that -I work very nearly 100 hours a week the year through; deducting -the time taken up by the slaughterers, and buying stuff—say -eight hours a week—it gives more than ninety hours a week for -my work, and there's hundreds labour as hard as I do, just for a -crust.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"The East-end turners generally, I was informed, when inquiring -into the state of that trade, labour at the lathe from six -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[Pg 187]</a></span> -o'clock in the morning till eleven and twelve at night, being -eighteen hours' work per day, or one hundred and eight hours per -week. They allow themselves two hours for their meals. It -takes them, upon an average, two hours more every day fetching -and carrying their work home. Some of the East-end men work -on Sundays, and not a few either,' said my informant. 'Sometimes -I have worked hard,' said one man, 'from six one morning -till four the next, and scarcely had any time to take my meals in -the bargain. I have been almost suffocated with the dust flying -down my throat after working so many hours upon such heavy -work too, and sweating so much. It makes a man drink where -he would not.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"This system of over-work exists in the 'slop' part of almost -every business; indeed, it is the principal means by which the -cheap trade is maintained. Let me cite from my letters in the -<i>Chronicle</i> some more of my experience on this subject. As -regards the London mantuamakers, I said:—'The workwomen -for good shops that give fair, or tolerably fair wages, and expect -good work, can make six average-sized mantles in a week, <i>working -from ten to twelve hours a day</i>; but the slop-workers by toiling -from thirteen to sixteen hours a day, will make <i>nine</i> such sized -mantles in a week. In a season of twelve weeks, 1000 workers -for the slop-houses and warehouses would at this rate make -108,000 mantles, or 36,000 more than workers for the fair trade. -Or, to put it in another light, these slop-women, by being compelled, -in order to live, to work such over-hours as inflict lasting -injury on the health, supplant, by their over-work and over-hours, -the labour of 500 hands, working the regular hours."</p></div> - -<p class="i1">Mr. Mayhew states it as a plain, unerring law, that -"over-work makes under-pay, and under-pay makes -over-work." True; but under-pay in the first place -gave rise to prolonged hours of toil; and in spite of all -laws that may be enacted, as long as a miserable pittance -is paid to labourers, and that, too, devoured by -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[Pg 188]</a></span> -taxes, supporting an aristocracy in luxury, so long will -the workman be compelled to slave for a subsistence.</p> - -<p class="i1">The "strapping" system, which demands an undue -quantity of work from a journeyman in the course of a -day, is extensively maintained in London. Mr. Mayhew -met with a miserable victim of this system of -slavery, who appeared almost exhausted with excessive -toil. The poor fellow said—</p> - -<div class="bq"> - -<p class="i1">"'I work in what is called a strapping-shop, and have worked -at nothing else for these many years past in London. I call -"strapping" doing as much work as a human being or a horse -possibly can in a day, and that without any hanging upon the -collar, but with the foreman's eyes constantly fixed upon you, -from six o'clock in the morning to six o'clock at night. The shop -in which I work is for all the world like a prison; the silent system -is as strictly carried out there as in a model jail. If a man -was to ask any common question of his neighbour, except it was -connected with his trade, he would be discharged there and then. -If a journeyman makes the least mistake he is packed off just the -same. A man working at such places is almost always in fear; -for the most trifling things he's thrown out of work in an instant. -And then the quantity of work that one is forced to get through -is positively awful; if he can't do a plenty of it he don't stop -long where I am. No one would think it was possible to get so -much out of blood and bones. No slaves work like we do. At -some of the strapping shops the foreman keeps continually walking -about with his eyes on all the men at once. At others the -foreman is perched high up, so that he can have the whole of the -men under his eye together. I suppose since I knew the trade -that a <i>man does four times the work that he did formerly</i>. I know -a man that's done four pairs of sashes in a day, and one is considered -to be a good day's labour. What's worse than all, the -men are every one striving one against the other. Each is trying -to get through the work quicker than his neighbours. Four -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[Pg 189]</a></span> -or five men are set the same job, so that they may be all pitted -against one another, and then away they go, every one striving -his hardest for fear that the others should get finished first. -They are all tearing along, from the first thing in the morning to -the last at night, as hard as they can go, and when the time -comes to knock off they are ready to drop. It was hours after I -got home last night before I could get a wink of sleep; the soles -of my feet were on fire, and my arms ached to that degree that I -could hardly lift my hand to my head. Often, too, when we get -up of a morning, we are more tired than when we went to bed, -for we can't sleep many a night; but we musn't let our employers -know it, or else they'd be certain we couldn't do enough -for them, and we'd get the sack. So, tired as we may be, we are -obliged to look lively, somehow or other, at the shop of a morning. -If we're not beside our bench the very moment the bell's -done ringing, our time's docked—they won't give us a single -minute out of the hour. If I was working for a fair master, I -should do nearly one-third, and sometimes a half, less work than -I am now forced to get through; and, even to manage that much, -I shouldn't be idle a second of my time. It's quite a mystery to -me how they <i>do</i> contrive to get so much work out of the men. -But they are very clever people. They know how to have the -most out of a man, better than any one in the world. They are -all picked men in the shop—regular "strappers," and no mistake. -The most of them are five foot ten, and fine broad-shouldered, -strong-backed fellows too—if they weren't they wouldn't -have them. Bless you, they make no words with the men, they -sack them if they're not strong enough to do all they want; and -they can pretty soon tell, the very first shaving a man strikes in -the shop, what a chap is made of. Some men are done up at -such work—quite old men and gray, with spectacles on, by the -time they are forty. I have seen fine strong men, of thirty-six, -come in there, and be bent double in two or three years. They -are most all countrymen at the strapping shops. If they see a -great strapping fellow, who they think has got some stuff about -him that will come out, they will give him a job directly. We -are used for all the world like cab or omnibus-horses. Directly -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[Pg 190]</a></span> -they've had all the work out of us, we are turned off, and I am -sure, after my day's work is over, my feelings must be very much -the same as one of the London cab-horses. As for Sunday, it is -<i>literally</i> a day of rest with us, for the greater part of us lay a-bed -all day, and even that will hardly take the aches and pains out -of our bones and muscles. When I'm done and flung by, of -course I must starve.'"</p></div> - -<p class="i1">It may be said that, exhausting as this labour certainly -is, it is not slavery; for the workman has a will of his -own, and need not work if he does not choose to do it. -Besides, he is not held by law; he may leave the shop; -he may seek some other land. These circumstances -make his case very different from the negro slave of -America. True, but the difference is in favour of the -negro slave. The London workman has only the alternative—such -labour as has been described, the workhouse, -or starvation. The negro slave seldom has such -grinding toil, is provided for whether he performs it or -not, and can look forward to an old age of comfort and -repose. The London workman may leave his shop, but -he will be either consigned to the prison of a workhouse -or starved. He might leave the country, if he could -obtain the necessary funds.</p> - -<p class="i1">Family work, or the conjoint labour of a workman's -wife and children, is one of the results of the wretchedly -rewarded slavery in the various trades. Mr Mayhew -gives the following statement of a "fancy cabinet" -worker upon this subject:—</p> - -<div class="bq"> - -<p class="i1">"The most on us has got large families; we put the children -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[Pg 191]</a></span> -to work as soon as we can. My little girl began about six, but -about eight or nine is the usual age. 'Oh, poor little things,' said -the wife, 'they are obliged to begin the very minute they can use -their fingers at all.' The most of the cabinet-makers of the East -end have from five to six in family, and they are generally all at -work for them. The small masters mostly marry when they are -turned of twenty. You see our trade's coming to such a pass, -that unless a man has children to help him he can't live at all. -I've worked more than a month together, and the longest night's -rest I've had has been an hour and a quarter; ay, and I've been -up three nights a week besides. I've had my children lying ill, -and been obliged to wait on them into the bargain. You see we -couldn't live if it wasn't for the labour of our children, though it -makes 'em—poor little things!—old people long afore they are -growed up.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Why, I stood at this bench,' said the wife, 'with my child, -only ten years of age, from four o'clock on Friday morning till -ten minutes past seven in the evening, without a bit to eat or -drink. I never sat down a minute from the time I began till I -finished my work, and then I went out to sell what I had done. -I walked all the way from here [Shoreditch] down to the Lowther -Arcade to get rid of the articles.' Here she burst out into a -violent flood of tears, saying, 'Oh, sir, it is hard to be obliged to -labour from morning till night as we do, all of us, little ones and -all, and yet not be able to live by it either.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'And you see the worst of it is, this here children's labour is of -such value now in our trade, that there's more brought into the -business every year, so that it's really for all the world <i>like breeding -slaves</i>. Without my children I don't know how we should be -able to get along.' 'There's that little thing,' said the man, pointing -to the girl ten years of age, before alluded to, as she sat at -the edge of the bed, 'why she works regularly every day from -six in the morning till ten at night. She never goes to school; -we can't spare her. There's schools enough about here for a -penny a week, but we could not afford to keep her without working. -If I'd ten more children I should be obliged to employ them -all the same way, and there's hundreds and thousands of children -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[Pg 192]</a></span> -now slaving at this business. There's the M——'s; they have a -family of eight, and the youngest to the oldest of all works at the -bench; and the oldest a'n't fourteen. I'm sure, of the two thousand -five hundred small masters in the cabinet line, you may -safely say that two thousand of them, at the very least, have from -five to six in family, and that's upward of twelve thousand children -that's been put to the trade since prices have come down. -Twenty years ago I don't think there was a child at work in our -business; and I am sure there is not a small master now whose -whole family doesn't assist him. But what I want to know is, -what's to become of the twelve thousand children when they're -growed up and come regular into the trade? Here are all my -ones growing up without being taught any thing but a business -that I know they must starve at.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"In answer to my inquiry as to what dependence he had in -case of sickness, 'Oh, bless you,' he said, 'there's nothing but the -parish for us. I <i>did</i> belong to a benefit society about four years -ago, but I couldn't keep up my payments any longer. I was in -the society above five-and-twenty years, and then was obliged to -leave it after all. I don't know of one as belongs to any friendly -society, and I don't think there is a man as can afford it in our -trade now. They must all go to the workhouse when they're sick -or old.'"</p></div> - -<p class="i1">The "trading operatives," or those labourers who employ -subordinate and cheaper work-people, are much -decried in England; but they, also, are the creations -of the general system. A workman frequently ascertains -that he can make more money with less labour, by -employing women or children at home, than if he did -all of his own work; and very often men are driven to -this resource to save themselves from being worked to -death. The condition of those persons who work for -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[Pg 193]</a></span> -the "trading operatives," or "middlemen," is as miserable -as imagination may conceive.</p> - -<p class="i1">In Charles Kingsley's popular novel, "Alton Locke," -we find a vivid and truthful picture of the London tailor's -workshop, and the slavery of the workmen, which may -be quoted here in illustration:—</p> - -<div class="bq"> - -<p class="i1">"I stumbled after Mr. Jones up a dark, narrow iron staircase, -till we emerged through a trap-door into a garret at the top of -the house. I recoiled with disgust at the scene before me; and -here I was to work—perhaps through life! A low lean-to room, -stifling me with the combined odours of human breath and perspiration, -stale beer, the sweet sickly smell of gin, and the sour -and hardly less disgusting one of new cloth. On the floor, thick -with dust and dirt, scraps of stuff and ends of thread, sat some -dozen haggard, untidy, shoeless men, with a mingled look of care -and recklessness that made me shudder. The windows were -tight closed to keep out the cold winter air; and the condensed -breath ran in streams down the panes, checkering the dreary outlook -of chimney-tops and smoke. The conductor handed me over -to one of the men.</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Here Crossthwaite, take this younker and make a tailor of -him. Keep him next you, and prick him up with your needle if -he shirks.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"He disappeared down the trap-door, and mechanically, as if -in a dream, I sat down by the man and listened to his instructions, -kindly enough bestowed. But I did not remain in peace -two minutes. A burst of chatter rose as the foreman vanished, -and a tall, bloated, sharp-nosed young man next me bawled in -my ear—</p> - -<p class="i1">"'I say, young 'un, fork out the tin and pay your footing at -Conscrumption Hospital!'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'What do you mean?'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'An't he just green?—Down with the stumpy—a tizzy for a -pot of half-and-half.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'I never drink beer.'</p></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[Pg 194]</a></span></p> - -<div class="bq"> - -<p class="i1">"'Then never do,' whispered the man at my side; 'as sure as -hell's hell, it's your only chance.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"There was a fierce, deep earnestness in the tone, which made -me look up at the speaker, but the other instantly chimed in.</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Oh, yer don't, don't yer, my young Father Mathy! then -yer'll soon learn it here if yer want to keep your victuals down.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'And I have promised to take my wages home to my mother.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Oh criminy! hark to that, my coves! here's a chap as is -going to take the blunt home to his mammy.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Ta'nt much of it the old un'll see,' said another. 'Ven yer -pockets it at the Cock and Bottle, my kiddy, yer won't find much -of it left o' Sunday mornings.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Don't his mother know he's out?' asked another; 'and won't -she know it—</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> - <div class="poetry"> - <div class="verse"><span style="font-size:larger;">Ven he's sitting in his glory</span> - </div> - <div class="verse"><span style="font-size:larger;">Half-price at the Vic-tory.</span></div> - </div> -</div> - -<p>Oh no, ve never mentions her—her name is never heard. Certainly -not, by no means. Why should it?'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Well, if yer won't stand a pot,' quoth the tall man, 'I will, -that's all, and blow temperance. 'A short life and a merry one,' -says the tailor—</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> - <div class="poetry"> - <div class="verse"><span style="font-size:larger;">The ministers talk a great deal - about port,</span></div> - <div class="verse indent-2"><span style="font-size:larger;">And they makes Cape wine - very dear,</span></div> - <div class="verse"><span style="font-size:larger;">But blow their hi's if ever they - tries</span></div> - <div class="verse indent-2"><span style="font-size:larger;">To deprive a poor cove of - his beer.</span></div> - </div> -</div> - -<p>Here, Sam, run to the Cock and Bottle for a pot of half-and-half -to my score.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"A thin, pale lad jumped up and vanished, while my tormentor -turned to me:</p> - -<p class="i1">"I say, young 'un, do you know why we're nearer heaven here -than our neighbours?'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'I shouldn't have thought so,' answered I with a <i>naïveté</i> which -raised a laugh, and dashed the tall man for a moment.</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Yer don't? then I'll tell yer. Acause we're atop of the -house in the first place, and next place yer'll die here six months -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[Pg 195]</a></span> -sooner nor if yer worked in the room below. A'n't that logic and -science, Orator?' appealing to Crossthwaite.</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Why?' asked I.</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Acause you get all the other floors' stinks up here, as well -as your own. Concentrated essence of man's flesh, is this here -as you're a-breathing. Cellar work-room we calls Rheumatic -Ward, because of the damp. Ground-floor's, Fever Ward—them -as don't get typhus gets dysentery, and them as don't get dysentery -gets typhus—your nose 'd tell yer why if you opened the -back windy. First floor's Ashmy Ward—don't you hear 'um -now through the cracks in the boards, a-puffing away like a nest -of young locomotives? And this here more august and upper-crust -cockloft is the Conscrumptive Hospital. First you begins -to cough, then you proceed to expectorate—spittoons, as you see, -perwided free gracious for nothing—fined a kivarten if you -spits on the floor—</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> - <div class="poetry"> - <div class="verse"><span style="font-size:larger;">Then your cheeks they grow red, and - your nose it grows thin,</span></div> - <div class="verse"><span style="font-size:larger;">And your bones they sticks out, till - they comes through your skin:</span></div> - </div> -</div> - -<p>and then, when you've sufficiently covered the poor dear shivering -bare backs of the hairystocracy,</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> - <div class="poetry"> - <div class="verse"><span style="font-size:larger;">Die, die, die,</span></div> - <div class="verse"><span style="font-size:larger;">Away you fly,</span></div> - <div class="verse"><span style="font-size:larger;">Your soul is in the sky!</span></div> -</div></div> - -<p>as the hinspired Shakspeare wittily remarks.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"And the ribald lay down on his back, stretched himself out, -and pretended to die in a fit of coughing, which last was alas! -no counterfeit, while poor I, shocked and bewildered, let my tears -fall fast upon my knees.</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Fine him a pot!' roared one, 'for talking about kicking the -bucket. He's a nice young man to keep a cove's spirits up, and -talk about "a short life and a merry one." Here comes the heavy. -Hand it here to take the taste of that fellow's talk out of my -mouth.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Well, my young 'un,' recommenced my tormentor, 'and -how do you like your company?'</p></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[Pg 196]</a></span></p> - -<div class="bq"> - -<p class="i1">"'Leave the boy alone,' growled Crossthwaite: 'don't you see -he's crying?'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Is that any thing good to eat? Give me some on it, if it is—it'll -save me washing my face.' And he took hold of my hair -and pulled my head back.</p> - -<p class="i1">"'I'll tell you what, Jemmy Downes,' said Crossthwaite, in a -voice that made him draw back, 'if you don't drop that, I'll give -you such a taste of my tongue as shall turn you blue.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'You'd better try it on, then. Do—only just now—if you -please.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Be quiet, you fool!' said another. 'You're a pretty fellow -to chaff the orator. He'll slang you up the chimney afore you -can get your shoes on.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Fine him a kivarten for quarrelling,' cried another; and the -bully subsided into a minute's silence, after a <i>sotto voce</i>—'Blow -temperance, and blow all Chartists, say I!' and then delivered -himself of his feelings in a doggrel song:</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> - <div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse"><span style="font-size:larger;">Some folks leads coves a dance, - </span></div> - <div class="verse"><span style="font-size:larger;">With their pledge of temperance, - </span></div> - <div class="verse indent-7"><span style="font-size:larger;">And their plans for donkey - sociation;</span></div> - <div class="verse"><span style="font-size:larger;">And their pocket-fulls they crams - </span></div> - <div class="verse"><span style="font-size:larger;">By their patriotic flams,</span></div> - <div class="verse indent-7"><span style="font-size:larger;">And then swears 'tis for the - good of the nation.</span></div> - </div> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse"><span style="font-size:larger;">But I don't care two inions</span></div> - <div class="verse"><span style="font-size:larger;">For political opinions,</span></div> - <div class="verse indent-7"><span style="font-size:larger;">While I can stand my heavy and - my quartern;</span></div> - <div class="verse"><span style="font-size:larger;">For to drown dull care within, - </span></div> - <div class="verse"><span style="font-size:larger;">In baccy, beer, and gin,</span></div> - <div class="verse indent-7"><span style="font-size:larger;">Is the prime of a - working-tailor's fortin!</span></div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class="i1">"'There's common sense for you now; hand the pot here.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"I recollect nothing more of that day, except that I bent myself -to my work with assiduity enough to earn praises from Crossthwaite. -It was to be done, and I did it. The only virtue I ever -possessed (if virtue it be) is the power of absorbing my whole -heart and mind in the pursuit of the moment, however dull or -trivial, if there be good reason why it should be pursued at all.</p></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[Pg 197]</a></span></p> - -<div class="bq"> - -<p class="i1">"I owe, too, an apology to my readers for introducing all this -ribaldry. God knows it is as little to my taste as it can be to theirs, -but the thing exists; and those who live, if not by, yet still beside -such a state of things, ought to know what the men are like, -to whose labour, ay, life-blood, they owe their luxuries. They -are 'their brothers' keepers,' let them deny it as they will."</p></div> - -<p class="i1">As a relief from misery, the wretched workmen generally -resort to intoxicating liquors, which, however, -ultimately render them a hundredfold more miserable. -In "Alton Locke," this is illustrated with an almost -fearful power, in the life and death of the tailor Downes. -After saving the wretched man from throwing himself -into the river, Alton Locke accompanies him to a disgusting -dwelling, in Bermondsey. The story continues:—</p> - -<div class="bq"> - -<p class="i1">"He stopped at the end of a miserable blind alley, where a -dirty gas-lamp just served to make darkness visible, and show the -patched windows and rickety doorways of the crazy houses, -whose upper stories were lost in a brooding cloud of fog; and the -pools of stagnant water at our feet: and the huge heap of cinders -which filled up the waste end of the alley—a dreary black, formless -mound, on which two or three spectral dogs prowled up and -down after the offal, appearing and vanishing like dark imps in -and out of the black misty chaos beyond.</p> - -<p class="i1">"The neighbourhood was undergoing, as it seemed, 'improvements,' -of that peculiar metropolitan species which consists in -pulling down the dwellings of the poor, and building up rich -men's houses instead; and great buildings, within high temporary -palings, had already eaten up half the little houses; as the -great fish and the great estates, and the great shopkeepers, eat -up the little ones of their species—by the law of competition, -lately discovered to be the true creator and preserver of the universe. -There they loomed up, the tall bullies, against the dreary -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[Pg 198]</a></span> -sky, looking down with their grim, proud, stony visages, on the -misery which they were driving out of one corner, only to accumulate -and intensify it in another.</p> - -<p class="i1">"The house at which we stopped was the last in the row; all -its companions had been pulled down; and there it stood, leaning -out with one naked ugly side into the gap, and stretching out -long props, like feeble arms and crutches, to resist the work of -demolition.</p> - -<p class="i1">"A group of slatternly people were in the entry, talking loudly, -and as Downes pushed by them, a woman seized him by the arm.</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Oh! you unnatural villain!—To go away after your drink, -and leave all them poor dead corpses locked up, without even -letting a body go in to stretch them out!'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'And breeding the fever, too, to poison the whole house!' -growled one.</p> - -<p class="i1">"'The relieving-officer's been here, my cove,' said another; 'and -he's gone for a peeler and a search-warrant to break open the -door, I can tell you!'</p> - -<p class="i1">"But Downes pushed past unheeding, unlocked a door at the -end of the passage, thrust me in, locked it again, and then rushed -across the room in chase of two or three rats, who vanished into -cracks and holes.</p> - -<p class="i1">"And what a room! A low lean-to with wooden walls, without -a single article of furniture; and through the broad chinks of the -floor shone up as it were ugly glaring eyes, staring at us. They -were the reflections of the rushlight in the sewer below. The -stench was frightful—the air heavy with pestilence. The first -breath I drew made my heart sink, and my stomach turn. But -I forgot every thing in the object which lay before me, as Downes -tore a half-finished coat off three corpses laid side by side on the -bare floor.</p> - -<p class="i1">"There was his little Irish wife;—dead—and naked—the -wasted white limbs gleamed in the lurid light; the unclosed eyes -stared, as if reproachfully, at the husband whose drunkenness -had brought her there to kill her with the pestilence; and on -each side of her a little, shrivelled, impish, child-corpse—the -wretched man had laid their arms round the dead mother's neck—and -there they slept, their hungering and wailing over at last -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[Pg 199]</a></span> -for ever: the rats had been busy already with them—but what -matter to them now?</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Look!' he cried; 'I watched 'em dying! Day after day I -saw the devils come up through the cracks, like little maggots -and beetles, and all manner of ugly things, creeping down their -throats; and I asked 'em, and they said they were the fever -devils.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"It was too true; the poisonous exhalations had killed them. -The wretched man's delirium tremens had given that horrible -substantiality to the poisonous fever gases.</p> - -<p class="i1">"Suddenly Downes turned on me almost menacingly. 'Money! -money! I want some gin!'</p> - -<p class="i1">"I was thoroughly terrified—and there was no shame in feeling -fear, locked up with a madman far my superior in size and -strength, in so ghastly a place. But the shame, and the folly -too, would have been in giving way to my fear; and with a boldness -half assumed, half the real fruit of excitement and indignation -at the horrors I beheld, I answered—</p> - -<p class="i1">"'If I had money, I would give you none. What do you want -with gin? Look at the fruits of your accursed tippling. If you -had taken my advice, my poor fellow,' I went on, gaining courage -as I spoke, 'and become a water-drinker, like me'——</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Curse you and your water-drinking! If you had had no -water to drink or wash with for two years but that—that,' pointing -to the foul ditch below—'If you had emptied the slops in -there with one hand, and filled your kettle with the other'——</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Do you actually mean that that sewer is your only drinking -water?'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Where else can we get any? Everybody drinks it; and you -shall too—you shall!' he cried, with a fearful oath, 'and then see -if you don't run off to the gin-shop, to take the taste of it out of -your mouth. Drink! and who can help drinking, with his -stomach turned with such hell-broth as that—or such a hell's -blast as this air is here, ready to vomit from morning till night -with the smells? I'll show you. You shall drink a bucket-full -of it, as sure as you live, you shall.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"And he ran out of the back door, upon a little balcony, which -hung over the ditch.</p></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">[Pg 200]</a></span></p> - -<div class="bq"> - -<p class="i1">"I tried the door, but the key was gone, and the handle too. -I beat furiously on it, and called for help. Two gruff authoritative -voices were heard in the passage.</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Let us in; I'm the policeman!'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Let me out, or mischief will happen!'</p> - -<p class="i1">"The policeman made a vigorous thrust at the crazy door; and -just as it burst open, and the light of his lantern streamed into -the horrible den, a heavy splash was heard outside.</p> - -<p class="i1">"'He has fallen into the ditch!'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'He'll be drowned, then, as sure as he's a born man,' shouted -one of the crowd behind.</p> - -<p class="i1">"We rushed out on the balcony. The light of the policeman's -lantern glared over the ghastly scene—along the double row of -miserable house-backs, which lined the sides of the open tidal -ditch—over strange rambling jetties, and balconies, and sleeping -sheds, which hung on rotting piles over the black waters, with -phosphorescent scraps of rotten fish gleaming and twinkling out -of the dark hollows, like devilish gravelights—over bubbles of -poisonous gas, and bloated carcases of dogs, and lumps of offal, -floating on the stagnant olive-green hell-broth—over the slow sullen -rows of oily ripple which were dying away into the darkness -far beyond, sending up, as they stirred, hot breaths of miasma—the -only sign that a spark of humanity, after years of foul life, -had quenched itself at last in that foul death. I almost fancied -that I could see the haggard face staring up at me through the -slimy water; but no—it was as opaque as stone."</p></div> - -<p class="i1">Downes had been a "sweater," and before his death -was a "sweater's slave."</p> - -<p class="i1">When the comparatively respectable workshop in -which Alton Locke laboured was broken up, and the -workmen were told by the heartless employer that he -intended to give out work, for those who could labour -at home, these toil-worn men held a meeting, at which -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">[Pg 201]</a></span> -a man named John Crossthwaite, thus spoke for his -oppressed and degraded class:—</p> - -<div class="bq"> - -<p class="i1">"We were all bound to expect this. Every working tailor must -come to this at last, on the present system; and we are only -lucky in having been spared so long. You all know where this -will end—in the same misery as fifteen thousand out of twenty -thousand of our class are enduring now. We shall become the -slaves, often the bodily prisoners, of Jews, middlemen, and sweaters, -who draw their livelihood out of our starvation. We shall -have to face, as the rest have, ever-decreasing prices of labour, -ever-increasing profits made out of that labour by the contractors -who will employ us—arbitrary fines, inflicted at the caprice of -hirelings—the competition of women, and children, and starving -Irish—our hours of work will increase one-third, our actual pay -decrease to less than one-half; and in all this we shall have no -hope, no chance of improvement in wages, but ever more penury, -slavery, misery, as we are pressed on by those who are sucked by -fifties—almost by hundreds—yearly, out of the honourable trade -in which we were brought up, into the infernal system of contract -work, which is devouring our trade and many others, body -and soul. Our wives will be forced to sit up night and day to -help us—our children must labour from the cradle, without chance -of going to school, hardly of breathing the fresh air of heaven—our -boys as they grow up must turn beggars or paupers—our -daughters, as thousands do, must eke out their miserable earnings -by prostitution. And, after all, a whole family will not gain -what one of us had been doing, as yet, single-handed. You know -there will be no hope for us. There is no use appealing to government -or Parliament. I don't want to talk politics here. I -shall keep them for another place. But you can recollect as well -as I can, when a deputation of us went up to a member of Parliament—one -that was reputed a philosopher, and a political economist, -and a liberal—and set before him the ever-increasing penury -and misery of our trade and of those connected with it; you recollect -his answer—that, however glad he would be to help us, it -was impossible—he could not alter the laws of nature—that -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">[Pg 202]</a></span> -wages were regulated by the amount of competition among the -men themselves, and that it was no business of government, or -any one else, to interfere in contracts between the employer and -employed, that those things regulated themselves by the laws of -political economy, which it was madness and suicide to oppose. -He may have been a wise man. I only know that he was a rich -one. Every one speaks well of the bridge which carries him over. -Every one fancies the laws which fill his pockets to be God's laws. -But I say this: If neither government nor members of Parliament -can help us, we must help ourselves. Help yourselves, and Heaven -will help you. Combination among ourselves is the only -chance. One thing we can do—sit still.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'And starve!' said some one."</p></div> - -<p class="i1">Crossthwaite is represented as having preferred to -endure want rather than work under the sweating system. -But there are few men who possess such spirit -and determination. Men with families are compelled, -by considering those who are dependent upon them, to -work for whatever prices the masters choose to pay. -They are free labourers—if they do not choose to work—they -are perfectly free—to starve!</p> - -<p class="i1">The government took the initiative in the sweating -system. It set the example by giving the army and -navy clothes to contractors, and taking the lowest -tenders. The police clothes, the postmen's clothes, the -convict's clothes, are all contracted for by sweaters and -sub-sweaters, till government work is the very last, -lowest resource to which a poor, starved-out wretch -betakes himself, to keep body and soul together. Thus -is profit made from the pauperism of men, the slavery of -children, and the prostitution of women, in Great Britain.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">[Pg 203]</a></span></p> - -<p class="i1">Some years ago the following announcement appeared -in the Village Gazette:—</p> - -<div class="bq"> - -<p class="i1">"Peter Moreau and his wife are dead, aged twenty-five years. -Too much work has killed them and many besides. We say—Work -like a negro, like a galley-slave: we ought to say—Work -like a freeman."</p></div> - -<p class="i1">Work like negro slaves, indeed! There is no such -work in America, even among the slaves; all day long, -from Monday morning till Saturday night, week after -week, and year after year, till the machine is worn out. -American slaves and convicts in New South Wales are -fat and happy, compared with the labourers of England. -It frequently happens that Englishmen commit crimes -for the purpose of becoming galley-slaves in New South -Wales. They do not keep their purpose secret; they -declare it loudly with tears and passionate exclamations -to the magistrate who commits them for trial, to the -jury who try them, and to the judge who passes sentence -on them. This is published in the newspapers, -but so often that it excites no particular comment.</p> - -<p class="i1">The parish apprentices are the worst-treated slaves -in the world. They are at the mercy of their masters -and mistresses during their term of apprenticeship, -without protectors, and without appeal against the most -cruel tyranny. In the reign of George III., one Elizabeth -Brownrigg was hanged for beating and starving to -death her parish apprentices. In 1831, another woman, -Esther Hibner by name, was hanged in London for -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">[Pg 204]</a></span> -beating and starving to death a parish apprentice. Two -instances of punishment, for thousands of cases of impunity!</p> - -<div class="bq"> - -<p class="i1">"The evidence in the case of Esther Hibner proved that a number -of girls, pauper apprentices, were employed in a workshop; -that their victuals consisted of garbage, commonly called hog's-wash, -and that of this they never had enough to stay the pains -of hunger; that they were kept half-naked, half-clothed in dirty -rags; that they slept in a heap on the floor, amid filth and stench; -that they suffered dreadfully from cold; that they were forced to -work so many hours together that they used to fall asleep while -at work; that for falling asleep, for not working as hard as their -mistress wished, they were beaten with sticks, with fists, dragged -by the hair, dashed on to the ground, trampled upon, and otherwise -tortured; that they were found, all of them more or less, -covered with chilblains, scurvy, bruises, and wounds; that one -of them died of ill-treatment; and—mark this—that the discovery -of that murder was made in consequence of the number of coffins -which had issued from Esther Hibner's premises, and raised the -curiosity of her neighbours. For this murder Mrs. Hibner was -hanged; but what did she get for all the other murders which, -referring to the number of coffins, we have a right to believe that -she committed? She got for each £10. That is to say, whenever -she had worked, starved, beaten, dashed and trampled a girl -to death, she got another girl to treat in the same way, with £10 -for her trouble. She carried on a trade in the murder of parish -apprentices; and if she had conducted it with moderation, if the -profit and custom of murder had not made her grasping and careless, -the constitution, which protects the poor as well as the rich, -would never have interfered with her. The law did not permit -her to do what she liked with her apprentices, as Americans do -with their slaves; oh no. Those free-born English children were -merely bound as apprentices, with their own consent, under the -eye of the magistrate, in order that they might learn a trade and -become valuable subjects. But did the magistrate ever visit Mrs. -Hibner's factory to see how she treated the free-born English -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">[Pg 205]</a></span> -girls? never. Did the parish officers? no. Was there any legal -provision for the discovery of the woman's trade in murder? -none."</p> - -<p class="i1">"You still read on the gates of London poorhouses, 'strong, -healthy boys and girls,' &c.; and boys or girls you may obtain -by applying within, as many as you please, free-born, with the -usual fee. Having been paid for taking them, and having gone -through the ceremonies of asking their consent and signing bonds -before a magistrate, you may make them into sausages, for any -thing the constitution will do to prevent you. If it should be -proved that you kill even one of them, you will be hanged; but -you may half-starve them, beat them, torture them, any thing -short of killing them, with perfect security; and using a little -circumspection, you may kill them too, without much danger. -Suppose they die, who cares? Their parents? they are orphans, -or have been abandoned by their parents. The parish officers? -very likely, indeed, that these, when the poorhouse is crammed -with orphan and destitute children, should make inquiries troublesome -to themselves; inquiries which, being troublesome to you, -might deprive them of your custom in future. The magistrate? -he asked the child whether it consented to be your apprentice; -the child said 'Yes, your worship;' and there his worship's duty -ends. The neighbours? of course, if you raise their curiosity like -Esther Hibner, but not otherwise. In order to be quite safe, I -tell you you must be a little circumspect. But let us suppose -that you are timid, and would drive a good trade without the -shadow of risk. In that case, half-starve your apprentices, cuff -them, kick them, torment them till they run away from you. -They will not go back to the poorhouse, because there they would -be flogged for having run away from you: besides, the poorhouse -is any thing but a pleasant place. The boys will turn beggars -or thieves, and the girls prostitutes; you will have pocketed £10 -for each of them, and may get more boys and girls on the same -terms, to treat in the same way. This trade is as safe as it is -profitable."<a name="FNanchor_89_89" id="FNanchor_89_89"></a> -<a href="#Footnote_89_89" class="fnanchor">[89]</a></p></div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">[Pg 206]</a></span></p> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2><a name="CHAPTER_V" id="CHAPTER_V"></a>CHAPTER V.</h2> -</div> - -<p class="ac">THE WORKHOUSE SYSTEM OF BRITAIN.</p> - - -<p class="i1"><span class="sc">The</span> English writers generally point to the poor-laws -of their country as a proud evidence of the merciful and -benevolent character of the government. Look at those -laws! so much have we done in the cause of humanity. -See how much money we expend every year for the relief -of the poor! Our workhouses are maintained at an -enormous expense. Very well; but it takes somewhat -from the character of the doctor, to ascertain that he -gave the wound he makes a show of healing. What are -the sources of the immense pauperism of Britain? The -enormous monopoly of the soil, and the vast expense of -civil and ecclesiastical aristocracy. The first takes work -from one portion of the people, and the latter takes the -profits of work from the other portion. The "glorious -institutions" of Britain crowd the workhouses; and we -are now going to show the horrible system under which -paupers are held in these establishments.</p> - -<p class="i1">The labouring classes are constantly exposed to the -chance of going to the workhouse. Their wages are so -low, or so preyed upon by taxes, that they have no -opportunity of providing for a "rainy day." A few -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">[Pg 207]</a></span> -weeks' sickness, a few weeks' absence of work, and, -starvation staring them in the face, they are forced to -apply to the parish authorities for relief. Once within -the gate of the workhouse, many never entertain the -idea of coming out until they are carried forth in their -coffins.</p> - -<p class="i1">Each parish has a workhouse, which is under the -control of several guardians, who, again, are under the -orders of a Board of Commissioners sitting at London. -Many—perhaps a majority—of the guardians of the -parishes are persons without those humane feelings -which should belong to such officials, and numerous -petty brutalities are added to those which are inherent -in the British workhouse system.</p> - -<p class="i1">Robert Southey says—</p> - -<div class="bq"> - -<p class="i1">"When the poor are incapable of contributing any longer to -their own support, they are removed to what is called the workhouse. -I cannot express to you the feelings of hopelessness and -dread with which all the decent poor look on to this wretched -termination of a life of labour. To this place all vagrants are -sent for punishment; unmarried women with child go here to be -delivered; and poor orphans and base-born children are brought -up here until they are of age to be apprenticed off; the other inmates -are of those unhappy people who are utterly helpless, parish -idiots and madmen, the blind and the palsied, and the old who -are fairly worn out. It is not in the nature of things that the -superintendents of such institutions as these should be gentle-hearted, -when the superintendence is undertaken merely for the -sake of the salary. To this society of wretchedness the labouring -poor of England look as their last resting-place on this side of the -grave; and, rather than enter abodes so miserable, they endure -the severest privations as long as it is possible to exist. A feeling -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">[Pg 208]</a></span> -of honest pride makes them shrink from a place where guilt -and poverty are confounded; and it is heart-breaking for those -who have reared a family of their own to be subjected, in their -old age, to the harsh and unfeeling authority of persons younger -than themselves, neither better born nor better bred."</p></div> - -<p class="i1">This is no less true, than admirable as a specimen of -prose. It was true when Southey penned it, and it is -true now. Let us look at some of the provisions of the -poor-laws of England, which form the much-lauded system -of charity.</p> - -<p class="i1">One of these provisions refuses relief to those who -will not accept that relief except in the character of -inmates of the workhouse, and thus compels the poor -applicants to either perish of want or tear asunder all -the ties of home. To force the wretched father from -the abode of his family, is a piece of cruelty at which -every humane breast must revolt. What wonder that -many perish for want of food, rather than leave all that -is dear to them on earth? If they must die, they prefer -to depart surrounded by affectionate relatives, rather -than by callous "guardians of the poor," who calculate -the trouble and the expense of the burial before the -breath leaves the body. The framers of the poor-laws -forgot—perchance—that, "Be it ever so humble, there's -no place like home."</p> - -<p class="i1">Another provision of the poor-laws denies the consolations -of religion to those whose conscientious scruples -will not allow them to worship according to the forms -of the established church. This is totally at variance -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">[Pg 209]</a></span> -with the spirit of true Christianity, and a most barbarous -privation. One would think that British legislators -doubted the supreme efficacy of the Christian faith in -saving souls from destruction. Why should not the -balm be applied, regardless of the formal ceremonies, -if it possesses any healing virtues? But the glory of -the English Church is its iron observance of forms; -and, rather than relax one jot, it would permit the souls -of millions to be swept away into the gloom of eternal -night.</p> - -<p class="i1">Then, there is the separation regulation, dragging -after it a long train of horrors and heart-rending sufferings—violating -the law of holy writ—"Whom God -hath joined together, let no man put asunder"—and -trampling upon the best feelings of human nature.</p> - -<p class="i1">A thrilling illustration of the operation of this law is -narrated by Mr. James Grant.<a name="FNanchor_90_90" id="FNanchor_90_90"></a> -<a href="#Footnote_90_90" class="fnanchor">[90]</a> We quote:—</p> - -<div class="bq"> - -<p class="i1">"Two persons, man and wife, of very advanced years, were at -last, through the infirmities consequent on old age, rendered incapable -of providing for themselves. Their friends were like -themselves, poor; but, so long as they could, they afforded them -all the assistance in their power. The infirmities of the aged -couple became greater and greater; so, as a necessary consequence, -did their wants. The guardians of the poor—their parish -being under the operation of the new measure—refused to afford -them the slightest relief. What was to be done? They had no -alternative but starvation and the workhouse. To have gone to -the workhouse, even had they been permitted to live together, -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">[Pg 210]</a></span> -could have been painful enough to their feelings; but to go there -to be separated from each other, was a thought at which their -hearts sickened. They had been married for nearly half a century; -and during all that time had lived in the greatest harmony -together. I am speaking the language of unexaggerated truth -when I say, that their affection for each other increased, instead -of suffering diminution, as they advanced in years. A purer or -stronger attachment than theirs has never, perhaps, existed in a -world in which there is so much of mutability as in ours. Many -were the joys and many were the sorrows which they had equally -shared with each other. Their joys were increased, because participated -in by both: their sorrows were lessened, because of the -consolations they assiduously administered to each other when -the dispensations of Providence assumed a lowering aspect. The -reverses they had experienced, in the course of their long and -eventful union, had only served to attach them the more strongly -to each other, just as the tempestuous blast only serves to cause -the oak to strike its roots more deeply in the earth. With minds -originally constituted alike, and that constitution being based on -a virtuous foundation, it was, indeed, to be expected that the lapse -of years would only tend to strengthen their attachment. Nothing, -in a word, could have exceeded the ardour of their sympathy with -each other. The only happiness which this world could afford -them was derived from the circumstance of being in each other's -company; and the one looked forward to the possibility of being -left alone, when the other was snatched away by death, with feelings -of the deepest pain and apprehension. Their wish was, in -subordination to the will of the Supreme Being, that as they had -been so long united in life, so in death they might not be divided. -Their wish was in one sense realized, though not in the sense they -had desired. The pressure of want, aggravated by the increasing -infirmities of the female, imposed on her the necessity of repairing -to the workhouse. The husband would most willingly have followed, -had they been permitted to live together when there, in -the hope that they should, even in that miserable place, be able -to assuage each other's griefs, as they had so often done before. -That was a permission, however, which was not to be granted to -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">[Pg 211]</a></span> -them. The husband therefore determined that he would live on a -morsel of bread and a draught of cold water, where he was, rather -than submit to the degradation of a workhouse, in which he would -be separated from her who had been the partner of his joys and -griefs for upward of half a century. The hour of parting came; -and a sad and sorrowful hour it was to the aged couple. Who -shall describe their feelings on the occasion? Who can even -enter into those feelings? No one. They could only be conceived -by themselves. The process of separation was as full of -anguish to their mental nature as is the severance of a limb from -the body to the physical constitution. And that separation was -aggravated by the circumstance, that both felt a presentiment, so -strong as to have all the force of a thorough conviction, that their -separation was to be final as regarded this world. What, then, -must have been the agonies of the parting hour in the case of a -couple whose mental powers were still unimpaired, and who had -lived in the most perfect harmony for the protracted period of -fifty years? They were, I repeat, not only such as admit of no -description, but no one, who has not been similarly circumstanced, -can even form an idea of them. The downcast look, the tender -glances they emitted to each other, the swimming eye, the moist -cheek, the deep-drawn sigh, the choked utterance, the affectionate -embrace—all told, in the language of resistless eloquence, of the -anguish caused by their separation. The scene was affecting in -the extreme, even to the mere spectator. It was one which must -have softened the hardest heart, as it drew tears from every eye -which witnessed it; what, then, must the actual realization of it -in all its power have been to the parties themselves? The separation -did take place; the poor woman was wrenched from the -almost death-like grasp of her husband. She was transferred to -the workhouse; and he was left alone in the miserable hovel in -which they had so long remained together. And what followed? -What followed! That may be soon told: it is a short history. -The former pined away, and died in three weeks after the -separation; and the husband only survived three weeks more. -Their parting was thus but for a short time, though final as -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">[Pg 212]</a></span> -regarded this world. Ere six weeks had elapsed they again met -together—</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> - <div class="poetry"> - <div class="verse"><span style="font-size:larger;">Met on that happy, happy - shore,</span></div> - <div class="verse"><span style="font-size:larger;">Where friends do meet to part - no more."</span></div> - </div> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="i1">Here was an outrage, shocking to every heart of ordinary -sensibility, committed by authority of the British -government, in due execution of its "charitable enactments." -In searching for a parallel, we can only find it -among those savage tribes who kill their aged and infirm -brethren to save trouble and expense. Yet such actions -are sanctioned by the government of a civilized nation, -in the middle of the nineteenth century; and that, too, -when the government is parading its philanthropy in -the face of the world, and, pharisaically, thanking God -that it is not as other nations are, authorizing sin and -wrong.</p> - -<p class="i1">It was said by the advocates of this regulation of -separation, that paupers themselves have no objection -to be separated from each other; because, generally -speaking, they have become old and unable to assist -each other, before they throw themselves permanently -on the parish—in other words, that the poor have not -the same affection for relatives and friends that the -wealthy have. Well, that argument was characteristic -of a land where the fineness of a man's feelings are -assumed to be exactly in proportion to the position of -his ancestry and the length of his purse—perfectly in -keeping, as an artist would say. A pauper husband -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">[Pg 213]</a></span> -and wife, after living together, perhaps for thirty years, -become old and desire to be separated, according to the -representations of the British aristocrat. His iron logic -allows no hearts to the poor. To breathe is human—to -feel is aristocratic.</p> - -<p class="i1">Equally to be condemned is the regulation which -prohibits the visits to the workhouse of the friends of -the inmates. The only shadow of a reason for this is -an alleged inconvenience attending the admission of -those persons who are not inmates; and for such a reason -the wife is prevented from seeing her husband, the -children from seeing their father, and the poor heart-broken -inmate from seeing a friend—perhaps the only -one he has in the world. We might suppose that the -authors of this regulation had discovered that adversity -multiplies friends, instead of driving them away from -its gloom. Paupers must be blessed beyond the rest -of mankind in that respect. Instances are recorded -in which dying paupers have been refused the consolation -of a last visit from their children, under the operation -of this outrageous law. Mr. James Grant mentions -a case that came to his notice:—</p> - -<div class="bq"> - -<p class="i1">"An instance occurred a few months since in a workhouse in -the suburbs of the metropolis, in which intelligence was accidentally -conveyed to a daughter that her father was on his death-bed; -she hurried that moment to the workhouse, but was refused -admission. With tears in her eyes, and a heart that was ready -to break, she pleaded the urgency of the case. The functionary -was deaf to her entreaties; as soon might she have addressed -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">[Pg 214]</a></span> -them to the brick wall before her. His answer was, 'It is contrary -to the regulations of the place; come again at a certain -hour,' She applied to the medical gentleman who attended the -workhouse, and through his exertions obtained admission. She -flew to the ward in which her father was confined: he lay cold, -motionless, and unconscious before her—his spirit was gone; he -had breathed his last five minutes before. Well may we exclaim, -when we hear of such things, 'Do we live in a Christian country? -Is this a civilized land?'"</p></div> - -<p class="i1">Certainly, Mr. Grant, it is a land of freedom and philanthropy -unknown upon the rest of the earth's surface.</p> - -<p class="i1">From a survey of the poor-laws it appears that -poverty is considered criminal in Great Britain. The -workhouses, which are declared to have been established -for the relief of the poor, are worse than prisons for -solitary confinement; for the visits of friends and the -consolations of religion, except under particular forms, -are denied to the unhappy inmates, while they are permitted -to the criminal in his dungeon.</p> - -<p class="i1">What an English pauper is may be learned from the -following description of the "bold peasantry," which -we extract from one of the countless pamphlets on -pauperism written by Englishmen.</p> - -<div class="bq"> - -<p class="i1">"What is that defective being, with calfless legs and stooping -shoulders, weak in body and mind, inert, pusillanimous and -stupid, whose premature wrinkles and furtive glance tell of -misery and degradation? That is an English peasant or pauper; -for the words are synonymous. His sire was a pauper, and his -mother's milk wanted nourishment. From infancy his food has -been bad, as well as insufficient; and he now feels the pains of -unsatisfied hunger nearly whenever he is awake. But half-clothed, -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">[Pg 215]</a></span> -and never supplied with more warmth than suffices to -cook his scanty meals, cold and wet come to him, and stay by -him, with the weather. He is married, of course; for to this he -would have been driven by the poor-laws, even if he had been, -as he never was, sufficiently comfortable and prudent to dread -the burden of a family. But, though instinct and the overseer -have given him a wife, he has not tasted the highest joys of husband -and father. His partner and his little ones being, like himself, -often hungry, seldom warm, sometimes sick without aid, and -always sorrowful without hope, are greedy, selfish, and vexing; -so, to use his own expression, he 'hates the sight of them,' and -resorts to his hovel only because a hedge affords less shelter from -the wind and rain. Compelled by parish law to support his -family, which means to join them in consuming an allowance -from the parish, he frequently conspires with his wife to get that -allowance increased, or prevent its being diminished. This -brings begging, trickery, and quarrelling; and ends in settled -craft. Though he has the inclination he wants the courage to -become, like more energetic men of his class, a poacher or smuggler -on a large scale; but he pilfers occasionally, and teaches -his children to lie and steal. His subdued and slavish manner -toward his great neighbours shows that they treat him with suspicion -and harshness. Consequently he at once dreads and hates -them; but he will never harm them by violent means. Too degraded -to be desperate, he is only thoroughly depraved. His -miserable career will be short; rheumatism and asthma are conducting -him to the workhouse, where he will breathe his last -without one pleasant recollection, and so make room for another -wretch, who may live and die in the same way. This is a sample -of one class of English peasants. Another class is composed -of men who, though paupers to the extent of being in part supported -by the parish, were not bred and born in extreme destitution, -and who, therefore, in so far as the moral depends on the -physical man, are qualified to become wise, virtuous, and happy. -They have large muscles, an upright mien, and a quick perception. -With strength, energy, and skill, they would earn a comfortable -subsistence as labourers, if the modern fashion of paying -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">[Pg 216]</a></span> -wages out of the poor-box did not interfere with the due course -of things, and reduce all the labourers of a parish, the old and -the young, the weak and the strong, the idle and the industrious, -to that lowest rate of wages, or rather of weekly payment to -each, which, in each case, is barely sufficient for the support of -life. If there were no poor-laws, or if the poor-laws were such -that labour was paid in proportion to the work performed, and -not according to a scale founded on the power of gastric juice -under various circumstances, these superior men would be employed -in preference to the inferior beings described above, -would earn twice as much as the others could earn, and would -have every motive for industry, providence, and general good -conduct. As it is, their superior capacity as labourers is of no -advantage to them. They have no motive for being industrious -or prudent. What they obtain between labour and the rate is -but just enough to support them miserably. They are tempted -to marry for the sake of an extra allowance from the parish: and -they would be sunk to the lowest point of degradation but for the -energy of their minds, which they owe to their physical strength. -Courage and tenderness are said to be allied: men of this class -usually make good husbands and affectionate parents. Impelled -by want of food, clothes, and warmth, for themselves and their -families, they become poachers wherever game abounds, and -smugglers when opportunity serves. By poaching or smuggling, -or both, many of them are enabled to fill the bellies of their children, -to put decent clothes on the backs of their wives, and to -keep the cottage whole, with a good fire in it, from year's end to -year's end. The villains! why are they not taken up? They -are taken up sometimes, and are hunted always, by those who -administer rural law. In this way they learn to consider two -sets of laws—those for the protection of game, and those for the -protection of home manufactures—as specially made for their -injury. Be just to our unpaid magistrates! who perform their -duty, even to the shedding of man's blood, in defence of pheasants -and restrictions on trade. Thus the bolder sort of husbandry -labourers, by engaging in murderous conflicts with gamekeepers -and preventive men, become accustomed to deeds of violence, -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">[Pg 217]</a></span> -and, by living in jails, qualified for the most desperate courses. -They also imbibe feelings of dislike, or rather of bitter hatred, -toward the rural magistracy, whom they regard as oppressors -and natural enemies; closely resembling, in this respect, the -defective class of peasants from whom they differ in so many particulars. -Between these two descriptions of peasantry there is -another, which partakes of the characteristics of both classes, but -in a slighter degree, except as regards their fear and hatred of -the rural aristocracy. In the districts where paupers and game -abound, it would be difficult to find many labourers not coming -under one of these descriptions. By courtesy, the entire body is -called the bold peasantry of England. But is nothing done by -the 'nobility, clergy, and gentry,' to conciliate the affection of the -pauper mass, by whose toil all their own wealth is produced? -Charity! The charity of the poor-laws, which paupers have been -taught to consider a right, which operates as a curse to the able-bodied -and well-disposed, while it but just enables the infirm of -all ages to linger on in pain and sorrow. Soup! Dogs'-meat, -the paupers call it. They are very ungrateful; but there is a -way of relieving a man's necessities which will make him hate -you; and it is in this way, generally, that soup is given to the -poor. Books, good little books, which teach patience and submission -to the powers that be! With which such paupers as obtain -them usually boil their kettles, when not deterred by fear of the -reverend donor. Of this gift the design is so plain and offensive, -that its effect is contrary to what was intended, just as children -from whom obedience is very strictly exacted are commonly -rebels at heart. What else? is nothing else done by the rural -rich to win the love of the rural poor? Speaking generally, -since all rules have exceptions, the privileged classes of our rural -districts take infinite pains to be abhorred by their poorest neighbours. -They enclose commons. They stop footpaths. They -wall in their parks. They set spring-guns and man-traps. They -spend on the keep of high-bred dogs what would support half as -many children, and yet persecute a labouring man for owning -one friend in his cur. They make rates of wages, elaborately -calculating the minimum of food that will keep together the soul -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">[Pg 218]</a></span> -and body of a clodhopper. They breed game in profusion for -their own amusement, and having thus tempted the poor man to -knock down a hare for his pot, they send him to the treadmill, -or the antipodes, for that inexpiable offence. They build jails, -and fill them. They make new crimes and new punishments for -the poor. They interfere with the marriages of the poor, compelling -some, and forbidding others, to come together. They shut -up paupers in workhouses, separating husband and wife, in -pounds by day and wards by night. They harness poor men to -carts. They superintend alehouses, decry skittles, deprecate -beer-shops, meddle with fairs, and otherwise curtail the already -narrow amusements of the poor. Even in church, where some -of them solemnly preach that all are equal, they sit on cushions, -in pews boarded, matted, and sheltered by curtains from the wind -and the vulgar gaze, while the lower order must put up with a -bare bench on a stone floor, which is good enough for them. -Everywhere they are ostentatious in the display of wealth and -enjoyment; while, in their intercourse with the poor, they are -suspicious, quick at taking offence, vindictive when displeased, -haughty, overbearing, tyrannical, and wolfish; as it seems in -the nature of man to be toward such of his fellows as, like sheep, -are without the power to resist."</p></div> - -<p class="i1">In London, a species of slavery pertains to the workhouse -system which has justly excited much indignation. -This is the employment of paupers as scavengers in the -streets, without due compensation, and compelling them -to wear badges, as if they were convicted criminals. -Mr. Mayhew has some judicious remarks upon this subject:—</p> - -<div class="bq"> - -<p class="i1">"If pauperism be a disgrace, then it is unjust to turn a man -into the public thoroughfare, wearing the badge of beggary, to be -pointed at and scorned for his poverty, especially when we are -growing so particularly studious of our criminals that we make -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">[Pg 219]</a></span> -them wear masks to prevent even their faces being seen.<a name="FNanchor_91_91" -id="FNanchor_91_91"></a><a href="#Footnote_91_91" class="fnanchor">[91]</a> Nor -is it consistent with the principles of an enlightened national -morality that we should force a body of honest men to labour -upon the highways, branded with a degrading garb, like convicts. -Neither is it <i>wise</i> to do so, for the shame of poverty soon becomes -deadened by the repeated exposure to public scorn; and thus the -occasional recipient of parish relief is ultimately converted into -the hardened and habitual pauper. "Once a pauper always a -pauper," I was assured was the parish rule; and here lies the -<i>rationale</i> of the fact. Not long ago this system of employing <i>badged</i> -paupers to labour on the public thoroughfares was carried to a -much more offensive extent than it is even at present. At one -time the pauper labourers of a certain parish had the attention of -every passer-by attracted to them while at their work, for on the -back of each man's garb—a sort of smock frock—was marked, -with sufficient prominence, '<span class="sc">Clerkenwell. Stop it!</span>' This public -intimation that the labourers were not only paupers, but regarded -as thieves, and expected to purloin the parish dress they wore, -attracted public attention, and was severely commented upon at a -meeting. The '<span class="sc">Stop it!</span>' therefore was cancelled, and the frocks -are now <i>merely</i> lettered '<span class="sc">Clerkenwell</span>.' Before the alteration -the men very generally wore the garment inside out."</p></div> - -<p class="i1">The pauper scavengers employed by the metropolitan -parishes are divided into three classes: 1. The -in-door paupers, who receive no wages whatever, their -lodging, food, and clothing being considered to be sufficient -remuneration for their labour; 2. The out-door -paupers, who are paid partly in money and partly in -kind, and employed in some cases three days, and in -others six days in the week; 3. The unemployed labourers -of the district, who are set to scavenging work -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">[Pg 220]</a></span> -by the parish and paid a regular money-wage—the employment -being constant, and the rate of remuneration -varying from 1<i>s.</i> 3<i>d.</i> to 2<i>s.</i> 6<i>d.</i> a day for each of the six -days, or from 7<i>s.</i> 6<i>d.</i> to 15<i>s.</i> a week.</p> - -<p class="i1">The first class of pauper-scavengers, or those who receive -nothing for their labour beyond their lodging, food, -and clothing, are treated as slaves. The labour is compulsory, -without inducements for exertion, and conducted -upon the same system which the authorities of the parish -would use for working cattle. One of these scavengers -gave the following account of this degrading labour to -Mr. Mayhew:—</p> - -<div class="bq"> - -<p class="i1">"'Street-sweeping,' he said, 'degrades a man, and if a man's -poor he hasn't no call to be degraded. Why can't they set the -thieves and pickpockets to sweep? they could be watched easy -enough; there's always idle fellers as reckons theirselves real -gents, as can be got for watching and sitch easy jobs, for they -gets as much for them as three men's paid for hard work in a -week. I never was in a prison, but I've heerd that people there -is better fed and better cared for than in workusses. What's the -meaning of that, sir, I'd like to know. You can't tell me, but I -can tell you. The workus is made as ugly as it can be, that poor -people may be got to leave it, and chance dying in the street -rather.' [Here the man indulged in a gabbled detail of a series -of pauper grievances which I had a difficulty in diverting or interrupting. -On my asking if the other paupers had the same opinion -as to the street-sweeping as he had, he replied:—] 'To be sure -they has; all them that has sense to have a 'pinion at all has; -there's not two sides to it anyhow. No, I don't want to be kept -and do nothink. I want <i>proper</i> work. And by the rights of it I -might as well be kept with nothink to do as —— or ——' [parish -officials]. 'Have they nothing to do?' I asked. 'Nothink, but -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221">[Pg 221]</a></span> -to make mischief and get what ought to go to the poor. It's salaries -and such like as swallers the rates, and that's what every -poor family knows as knows any think. Did I ever like my work -better? Certainly not. Do I take any pains with it? Well, -where would be the good? I can sweep well enough, when I please, -but if I could do more than the best man as ever Mr. Drake paid -a pound a week to, it wouldn't be a bit better for me—not a bit, -sir, I assure you. We all takes it easy whenever we can, but the -work <i>must</i> be done. The only good about it is that you get outside -the house. It's a change that way certainly. But we work -like horses and is treated like asses.'"</p></div> - -<p class="i1">The second mode of pauper scavenging, viz. that -performed by out-door paupers, and paid for partly in -money and partly in kind, is strongly condemned, as -having mischievous and degrading tendencies. The -men thus employed are certainly not independent labourers, -though the means of their subsistence are partly -the fruits of their toil. Their exceedingly scant payment -keeps them hard at work for a very unreasonable -period. Should they refuse to obey the parish regulations -in regard to the work, the pangs of hunger are -sure to reach them and compel them to submit. Death -is the only door of escape. From a married man employed -by the parish in this work, Mr. Mayhew obtained -the following interesting narrative, which is a sad revelation -of pauper slavery:—</p> - -<div class="bq"> - -<p class="i1">"'I was brought up as a type-founder; my father, who was one, -learnt me his trade; but he died when I was quite a young man, -or I might have been better perfected in it. I was comfortably -off enough then, and got married. Very soon after that I was -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222">[Pg 222]</a></span> -taken ill with an abscess in my neck, you can see the mark of it -still,' [He showed me the mark.] 'For six months I wasn't able -to do a thing, and I was a part of the time, I don't recollect how -long, in St. Bartholomew's Hospital. I was weak and ill when I -came out, and hardly fit for work; I couldn't hear of any work I -could get, for there was a great bother in the trade between master -and men. Before I went into the hospital, there was money -to pay to doctors; and when I came out I could earn nothing, so -every thing went; yes, sir, every thing. My wife made a little -matter with charing for families she'd lived in, but things are in -a bad way if a poor woman has to keep her husband. She was -taken ill at last, and then there was nothing but the parish for us. -I suffered a great deal before it come to that. It was awful. No -one can know what it is but them that suffers it. But I didn't -know what in the world to do. We lived then in St. Luke's, and -were passed to our own parish, and were three months in the -workhouse. The living was good enough, better than it is now, -I've heard, but I was miserable.' ['And I was <i>very</i> miserable,' -interposed the wife, 'for I had been brought up comfortable; my -father was a respectable tradesman in St. George's-in-the-East, and -I had been in good situations.'] 'We made ourselves,' said the -husband, 'as useful as we could, but we were parted of course. -At the three months' end, I had 10<i>s.</i> given to me to come out with, -and was told I might start costermongering on it. But to a man -not up to the trade, 10<i>s.</i> won't go very far to keep up costering. -I didn't feel master enough of my own trade by this time to try -for work at it, and work wasn't at all regular. There were good -hands earning only 12<i>s.</i> a week. The 10<i>s.</i> soon went, and I had -again to apply for relief, and got an order for the stone-yard to go -and break stones. Ten bushels was to be broken for 15<i>d.</i> It was -dreadful hard work at first. My hands got all blistered and -bloody, and I've gone home and cried with pain and wretchedness. -At first it was on to three days before I could break the ten -bushels. I felt shivered to bits all over my arms and shoulders, -and my head was splitting. I then got to do it in two days, and -then in one, and it grew easier. But all this time I had only -what was reckoned three days' work in a week. That is, you see, -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223">[Pg 223]</a></span> -sir, I had only three times ten bushels of stones given to break in -a week, and earned only 3<i>s.</i> 9<i>d.</i> Yes, I lived on it, and paid 1<i>s.</i> -6<i>d.</i> a week rent, for the neighbours took care of a few sticks for us, -and the parish or a broker wouldn't have found them worth carriage. -My wife was then in the country with a sister. I lived -upon bread and dripping, went without fire or candle (or had one -only very seldom) though it wasn't warm weather. I can safely -say that for eight weeks I never tasted one bite of meat, and hardly -a bite of butter. When I couldn't sleep of a night, but that wasn't -often, it was terrible, very. I washed what bits of things I had -then, myself, and had sometimes to get a ha'porth of soap as a -favour, as the chandler said she 'didn't make less than a penn'orth.' -If I ate too much dripping, it made me feel sick. I hardly know -how much bread and dripping I ate in a week. I spent what -money I had in it and bread, and sometimes went without. I was -very weak, you may be sure, sir; and if I'd had the influenza or -any thing that way, I should have gone off like a shot, for I seemed -to have no constitution left. But my wife came back again and -got work at charing, and made about 4<i>s.</i> a week at it; but we -were still very badly off. Then I got to work on the roads every -day, and had 1<i>s.</i> and a quartern loaf a day, which was a rise. I -had only one child then, but men with larger families got two -quartern loaves a day. Single men got 9<i>d.</i> a day. It was far -easier work than stone-breaking too. The hours were from eight -to five in winter, and from seven to six in summer. But there's -always changes going on, and we were put on 1<i>s.</i> 1½<i>d.</i> a day and -a quartern loaf, and only three days a week. All the same as to -time of course. The bread wasn't good; it was only cheap. I -suppose there was twenty of us working most of the times as I -was. The gangsman, as you call him, but that's more for the -regular hands, was a servant of the parish, and a great tyrant. -Yes, indeed, when we had a talk among ourselves, there was -nothing but grumbling heard of. Some of the tales I've heard -were shocking; worse than what I've gone through. Everybody -was grumbling, except perhaps two men that had been twenty -years in the streets, and were like born paupers. They didn't -feel it, for there's a great difference in men. They knew no better. -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224">[Pg 224]</a></span> -But anybody might have been frightened to hear some of the -men talk and curse. We've stopped work to abuse the parish -officers as might be passing. We've mobbed the overseers; and a -number of us, I was one, were taken before the magistrate for it: -but we told him how badly we were off, and he discharged us, and -gave us orders into the workhouse, and told 'em to see if nothing -could be done for us. We were there till next morning, and then -sent away without any thing being said.'"</p> - -<p class="i1">"'It's a sad life, sir, is a parish worker's. I wish to God I could -get out of it. But when a man has children he can't stop and -say, "I can't do this," and "I won't do that." Last week, now, -in costering, I lost 6<i>s.</i> [he meant that his expenses, of every kind, -exceeded his receipts by 6<i>s.</i>,] and though I can distil nectar, or -any thing that way, [this was said somewhat laughingly,] it's only -when the weather's hot and fine that any good at all can be done -with it. I think, too, that there's not the money among working-men -that there once was. Any thing regular in the way of pay -must always be looked at by a man with a family.</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Of course the streets must be properly swept, and if I can -sweep them as well as Mr. Dodd's men, for I know one of them -very well, why should I have only 1<i>s.</i> 4½<i>d.</i> a week and three -loaves, and he have 16<i>s.</i>, I think it is. I don't drink, my wife -knows I don't, [the wife assented,] and it seems as if in a parish a -man must be kept down when he is down, and then blamed for it. -I may not understand all about it, but it looks queer."'</p></div> - -<p class="i1">The third system of parish work, where the labourer -is employed regularly, and paid a certain sum out of the -parochial fund, is superior to either of the other modes; -but still, the labourers are very scantily paid, subjected -to a great deal of tyranny by brutal officers, and miserably -provided. They endure the severest toil for a -wretched pittance, without being able to choose their -masters or their employment. No slaves could be more -completely at the mercy of their masters.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225">[Pg 225]</a></span></p> - -<p class="i1">The common practice of apprenticing children born -and reared in workhouses, to masters who may feed, -clothe, and beat them as they please, is touchingly illustrated -in Dickens's famous story of Oliver Twist. After -Oliver had been subjected for some time to the tender -mercies of guardians and overseers in the workhouse, it -was advertised that any person wanting an apprentice -could obtain him, and five pounds as a premium. He narrowly -escaped being apprenticed to a sweep, and finally -fell into the hands of Mr. Sowerberry, an undertaker. -In the house of that dismal personage, he was fed upon -cold bits, badly clothed, knocked about unmercifully, -and worked with great severity. Such is the common -fate of parish apprentices; and we do not think a more -truthful conception of the <i>beauties</i> of the system could -be conveyed than by quoting from the experience of -Dickens's workhouse boy:—</p> - -<div class="bq"> - -<p class="i1">"Oliver had not been within the walls of the workhouse a quarter -of an hour, and had scarcely completed the demolition of a -second slice of bread, when Mr. Bumble, who had handed him -over to the care of an old woman, returned, and, telling him it was -a board night, informed him that the board had said he was to -appear before it forthwith.</p> - -<p class="i1">"Not having a very clearly defined notion what a live board -was, Oliver was rather astounded by this intelligence, and was not -quite certain whether he ought to laugh or cry. He had no time -to think about the matter, however; for Mr. Bumble gave him a -tap on the head with his cane to wake him up, and another on his -back to make him lively, and, bidding him follow, conducted him -into a large whitewashed room, where eight or ten fat gentlemen -were sitting round a table, at the top of which, seated in an armchair -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226">[Pg 226]</a></span> -rather higher than the rest, was a particularly fat gentleman -with a very round, red face.</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Bow to the board,' said Bumble. Oliver brushed away two -or three tears that were lingering in his eyes, and seeing no board -but the table, fortunately bowed to that.</p> - -<p class="i1">"'What's your name, boy?' said the gentleman in the high chair.</p> - -<p class="i1">"Oliver was frightened at the sight of so many gentlemen, which -made him tremble: and the beadle gave him another tap behind, -which made him cry; and these two causes made him answer in a -very low and hesitating voice; whereupon a gentleman in a white -waistcoat said he was a fool, which was a capital way of raising -his spirit, and putting him quite at his ease.</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Boy,' said the gentleman in the high chair: 'listen to me. -You know you're an orphan, I suppose?'"</p> - -<p class="i1">"'What's that, sir?" inquired poor Oliver.</p> - -<p class="i1">"'The boy <i>is</i> a fool—I thought he was,' said the gentleman in -the white waistcoat in a very decided tone. If one member of a -class be blessed with an intuitive perception of others of the same -race, the gentleman in the white waistcoat was unquestionably -well qualified to pronounce an opinion on the matter.</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Hush!' said the gentleman who had spoken first. 'You -know you've got no father or mother, and that you are brought up -by the parish, don't you?'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Yes, sir,' replied Oliver, weeping bitterly.</p> - -<p class="i1">"'What are you crying for?' inquired the gentleman in the -white waistcoat; and to be sure it was very extraordinary. What -<i>could</i> he be crying for?</p> - -<p class="i1">"'I hope you say your prayers every night,' said another gentleman -in a gruff voice, 'and pray for the people who feed you, -and take care of you, like a Christian.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Yes, sir,' stammered the boy. The gentleman who spoke -last was unconsciously right. It would have been <i>very</i> like a -Christian, and a marvellously good Christian, too, if Oliver had -prayed for the people who fed and took care of <i>him</i>. But he -hadn't, because nobody had taught him.</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Well you have come here to be educated, and taught a useful -trade,' said the red-faced gentleman in the high chair.</p></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227">[Pg 227]</a></span></p> - -<div class="bq"> - -<p class="i1">"'So you'll begin to pick oakum to-morrow morning at six -o'clock,' added the surly one in the white waistcoat.</p> - -<p class="i1">"For the combination of both these blessings in the one simple -process of picking oakum, Oliver bowed low by the direction of -the beadle, and was then hurried away to a large ward, where, on -a rough hard bed, he sobbed himself to sleep. What a noble -illustration of the tender laws of this favoured country! they let -the paupers go to sleep!</p> - -<p class="i1">"Poor Oliver! he little thought, as he lay sleeping in happy -unconsciousness of all around him, that the board had that very -day arrived at a decision which would exercise the most material -influence over all his future fortunes. But they had. And this -was it:—</p> - -<p class="i1">"The members of this board were very sage, deep, philosophical -men; and when they came to turn their attention to the workhouse, -they found out at once, what ordinary folks would never -have discovered,—the poor people liked it! It was a regular -place of public entertainment for the poorer classes,—a tavern -where there was nothing to pay,—a public breakfast, dinner, tea, -and supper, all the year round,—a brick and mortar elysium, -where it was all play and no work. 'Oho!' said the board, looking -very knowing; 'we are the fellows to set this to rights; we'll stop -it all in no time.' So they established the rule, that all poor people -should have the alternative (for they would compel nobody, -not they,) of being starved by a gradual process in the house, or -by a quick one out of it. With this view, they contracted with -the water-works to lay on an unlimited supply of water, and with -a corn-factor to supply periodically small quantities of oat-meal: -and issued three meals of thin gruel a-day, with an onion twice a -week, and half a roll on Sundays. They made a great many other -wise and humane regulations having reference to the ladies, which -it is not necessary to repeat; kindly undertook to divorce poor -married people, in consequence of the great expense of a suit in -Doctors' Commons; and, instead of compelling a man to support -his family, as they had theretofore done, took his family away -from him, and made him a bachelor! There is no telling how -many applicants for relief under these last two heads would not -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228">[Pg 228]</a></span> -have started up in all classes of society, if it had not been coupled -with the workhouse. But they were long-headed men, and they -had provided for this difficulty. The relief was inseparable from -the workhouse and the gruel; and that frightened people.</p> - -<p class="i1">"For the first three months after Oliver Twist was removed, the -system was in full operation. It was rather expensive at first, in -consequence of the increase in the undertaker's bill, and the necessity -of taking in the clothes of all the paupers, which fluttered -loosely on their wasted, shrunken forms, after a week or two's -gruel. But the number of workhouse inmates got thin, as well as -the paupers; and the board were in ecstasies. The room in which -the boys were fed was a large stone hall, with a copper at one end, -out of which the master, dressed in an apron for the purpose, and -assisted by one or two women, ladled the gruel at meal-times; of -which composition each boy had one porringer, and no more,—except -on festive occasions, and then he had two ounces and a -quarter of bread besides. The bowls never wanted washing—the -boys polished them with their spoons, till they shone again; and -when they had performed this operation, (which never took very -long, the spoons being nearly as large as the bowls,) they would -sit staring at the copper with such eager eyes, as if they could devour -the very bricks of which it was composed; employing themselves -meanwhile in sucking their fingers most assiduously, with -the view of catching up any stray splashes of gruel that might have -been cast thereon. Boys have generally excellent appetites: Oliver -Twist and his companions suffered the tortures of slow starvation -for three months; at last they got so voracious and wild with hunger, -that one boy, who was tall for his age, and hadn't been used -to that sort of thing, (for his father had kept a small cook's shop,) -hinted darkly to his companions, that unless he had another basin -of gruel <i>per diem</i>, he was afraid he should some night eat the boy -who slept next him, who happened to be a weakly youth of tender -age. He had a wild, hungry eye, and they implicitly believed him. -A council was held; lots were cast who should walk up to the master -after supper that evening, and ask for more; and it fell to -Oliver Twist.</p> - -<p class="i1">The evening arrived: the boys took their places; the master, in -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_229" id="Page_229">[Pg 229]</a></span> -his cook's uniform, stationed himself at the copper; his pauper -assistants ranged themselves behind him; the gruel was served -out, and a long grace was said over the short commons. The gruel -disappeared, and the boys whispered to each other and winked at -Oliver, while his next neighbours nudged him. Child as he was, -he was desperate with hunger, and reckless with misery. He rose -from the table, and, advancing, basin and spoon in hand, to the -master, said, somewhat alarmed at his own temerity—</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Please, sir, I want some more.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"The master was a fat, healthy man, but he turned very pale. -He gazed in stupefied astonishment on the small rebel for some -seconds, and then clung for support to the copper. The assistants -were paralyzed with wonder, and the boys with fear.</p> - -<p class="i1">"'What!' said the master at length, in a faint voice.</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Please, sir,' replied Oliver, 'I want some more.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"The master aimed a blow at Oliver's head with the ladle, -pinioned him in his arms, and shrieked aloud for the beadle.</p> - -<p class="i1">"The board were sitting in solemn conclave, when Mr. Bumble -rushed into the room in great excitement, and addressing the -gentleman in the high chair, said—</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Mr. Limbkins, I beg your pardon, sir;—Oliver Twist has -asked for more.' There was a general start. Horror was depicted -on every countenance.</p> - -<p class="i1">"'For <i>more</i>!' said Mr. Limbkins. 'Compose yourself, Bumble, -and answer me distinctly. Do I understand that he asked for -more, after he had eaten the supper allotted by the dietary?'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'He did, sir,' replied Bumble.</p> - -<p class="i1">"'That boy will be hung,' said the gentleman in the white -waistcoat; 'I know that boy will be hung.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"Nobody controverted the prophetic gentleman's opinion. An -animated discussion took place. Oliver was ordered into instant -confinement; and a bill was next morning pasted on the outside -of the gate, offering a reward of five pounds to anybody who -would take Oliver Twist off the hands of the parish; in other -words, five pounds and Oliver Twist were offered to any man or -woman who wanted an apprentice to any trade, business, or -calling.</p></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_230" id="Page_230">[Pg 230]</a></span></p> - -<div class="bq"> - -<p class="i1">"'I never was more convinced of any thing in my life,' said -the gentleman in the white waistcoat, as he knocked at the gate -and read the bill next morning,—'I never was more convinced -of any thing in my life, than I am that that boy will come to be -hung.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"For a week after the commission of the impious and profane -offence of asking for more, Oliver remained a close prisoner in -the dark and solitary room to which he had been consigned by -the wisdom and mercy of the board. It appears, at first sight, -not unreasonable to suppose, that, if he had entertained a becoming -feeling of respect for the prediction of the gentleman in -the white waistcoat, he would have established that sage individual's -prophetic character, once and for ever, by tying one end -of his pocket-handkerchief to a hook in the wall, and attaching -himself to the other. To the performance of this feat, however, -there was one obstacle, namely, that pocket-handkerchiefs being -decided articles of luxury, had been, for all future times and -ages, removed from the noses of paupers by the express order of -the board in council assembled, solemnly given and pronounced -under their hands and seals. There was a still greater obstacle -in Oliver's youth and childishness. He only cried bitterly all -day; and when the long, dismal night came on, he spread his -little hands before his eyes to shut out the darkness, and crouching -in the corner, tried to sleep, ever and anon waking with a -start and tremble, and drawing himself closer and closer to the -wall, as if to feel even its cold hard surface were a protection in -the gloom and loneliness which surrounded him.</p> - -<p class="i1">"Let it not be supposed by the enemies of 'the system,' that, -during the period of his solitary incarceration, Oliver was denied -the benefit of exercise, the pleasure of society, or the advantages -of religious consolation. As for exercise, it was nice cold weather, -and he was allowed to perform his ablutions every morning -under the pump, in a stone yard, in the presence of Mr. Bumble, -who prevented his catching cold, and caused a tingling sensation -to pervade his frame, by repeated applications of the cane; as for -society, he was carried every other day into the hall where the -boys dined, and there sociably flogged, as a public warning and -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_231" id="Page_231">[Pg 231]</a></span> -example; and, so far from being denied the advantages of religious -consolation, he was kicked into the same apartment every -evening at prayer-time, and there permitted to listen to, and console -his mind with, a general supplication of the boys, containing -a special clause therein inserted by the authority of the board, in -which they entreated to be made good, virtuous, contented, and -obedient, and to be guarded from the sins and vices of Oliver -Twist, whom the supplication distinctly set forth to be under the -exclusive patronage and protection of the powers of wickedness, -and an article direct from the manufactory of the devil himself.</p> - -<p class="i1">"It chanced one morning, while Oliver's affairs were in this -auspicious and comfortable state, that Mr. Gamfield, chimney-sweeper, -was wending his way adown the High-street, deeply -cogitating in his mind his ways and means of paying certain -arrears of rent, for which his landlord had become rather pressing. -Mr. Gamfield's most sanguine calculation of funds could -not raise them within full five pounds of the desired amount; -and, in a species of arithmetical desperation, he was alternately -cudgelling his brains and his donkey, when, passing the workhouse, -his eyes encountered the bill on the gate.</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Woo!' said Mr. Gamfield to the donkey.</p> - -<p class="i1">"The donkey was in a state of profound abstraction—wondering, -probably, whether he was destined to be regaled with a cabbage-stalk -or two, when he had disposed of the two sacks of soot -with which the little cart was laden; so, without noticing the -word of command, he jogged onward.</p> - -<p class="i1">"Mr. Gamfield growled a fierce imprecation on the donkey -generally, but more particularly on his eyes; and running after -him, bestowed a blow on his head which would inevitably have -beaten in any skull but a donkey's; then, catching hold of the -bridle, he gave his jaw a sharp wrench, by way of gentle reminder -that he was not his own master; and, having by these -means turned him round, he gave him another blow on the head, -just to stun him until he came back again; and, having done so, -walked to the gate to read the bill.</p> - -<p class="i1">"The gentleman with the white waistcoat was standing at the -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_232" id="Page_232">[Pg 232]</a></span> -gate with his hands behind him, after having delivered himself -of some profound sentiments in the board-room. Having witnessed -the little dispute between Mr. Gamfield and the donkey, he -smiled joyously when that person came up to read the bill, for he -saw at once that Mr. Gamfield was just exactly the sort of master -Oliver Twist wanted. Mr. Gamfield smiled, too, as he perused the -document, for five pounds was just the sum he had been wishing -for; and, as to the boy with which it was encumbered, Mr. Gamfield, -knowing what the dietary of the workhouse was, well knew -he would be a nice small pattern, just the very thing for register -stoves. So he spelt the bill through again, from beginning to -end; and then, touching his fur cap in token of humility, accosted -the gentleman in the white waistcoat.</p> - -<p class="i1">"'This here boy, sir, wot the parish wants to 'prentis,' said Mr. -Gamfield.</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Yes, my man,' said the gentleman in the white waistcoat, -with a condescending smile, 'what of him?'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'If the parish vould like him to learn a light, pleasant trade, -in a good 'spectable chimbley-sweepin bisness,' said Mr. Gamfield, -'I wants a 'prentis, and I'm ready to take him.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Walk in,' said the gentleman with the white waistcoat. -And Mr. Gamfield having lingered behind, to give the donkey -another blow on the head, and another wrench of the jaw, as a -caution not to run away in his absence, followed the gentleman -in the white waistcoat into the room where Oliver had first seen -him.</p> - -<p class="i1">"'It's a nasty trade,' said Mr. Limbkins, when Gamfield had -again stated his case.</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Young boys have been smothered in chimeys, before now,' -said another gentleman.</p> - -<p class="i1">"'That's acause they damped the straw afore they lit it in the -chimbley to make'em come down again,' said Gamfield; 'that's -all smoke, and no blaze: vereas smoke a'n't o' no use at all in -makin' a boy come down; it only sinds him to sleep, and that's -wot he likes. Boys is wery obstinit, and wery lazy, gen'lm'n, -and there's nothink like a good hot blaze to make em come down -vith a run; it's humane, too, gen'lm'n, acause, even if they've -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_233" id="Page_233">[Pg 233]</a></span> -stuck in the chimbley, roastin' their feet makes 'em struggle to -hextricate theirselves.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"The gentleman in the white waistcoat appeared very much -amused with this explanation; but his mirth was speedily checked -by a look from Mr. Limbkins. The board then proceeded to converse -among themselves for a few minutes, but in so low a tone -that the words, 'saving of expenditure,' 'look well in the accounts,' -'have a printed report published,' were alone audible; -and they only chanced to be heard on account of their being very -frequently repeated with great emphasis.</p> - -<p class="i1">"At length the whispering ceased, and the members of the -board having resumed their seats and their solemnity, Mr. Limbkins -said,</p> - -<p class="i1">"'We have considered your proposition, and we don't approve -of it.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Not at all,' said the gentleman in the white waistcoat.</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Decidedly not,' added the other members.</p> - -<p class="i1">"As Mr. Gamfield did happen to labour under the slight imputation -of having bruised three or four boys to death already, it -occurred to him that the board had perhaps, in some unaccountable -freak, taken it into their heads that this extraneous circumstance -ought to influence their proceedings. It was very unlike -their general mode of doing business, if they had; but still, as -he had no particular wish to revive the rumour, he twisted his -cap in his hands, and walked slowly from the table.</p> - -<p class="i1">"'So you won't let me have him, gen'lmen,' said Mr. Gamfield, -pausing near the door.</p> - -<p class="i1">"'No,' replied Mr. Limbkins; 'at least, as it's a nasty business, -we think you ought to take something less than the premium -we offered.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"Mr. Gamfield's countenance brightened, as with a quick step -he returned to the table, and said,</p> - -<p class="i1">"'What'll you give, gen'lmen? Come, don't be too hard on a -poor man. What'll you give?'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'I should say three pound ten was plenty,' said Mr. Limbkins.</p></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_234" id="Page_234">[Pg 234]</a></span></p> - -<div class="bq"> - -<p class="i1">"'Ten shillings too much,' said the gentleman in the white -waistcoat.</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Come,' said Gamfield, 'say four pound, gen'lmen. Say -four pound, and you've got rid of him for good and all. There!'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Three pound ten,' repeated Mr. Limbkins, firmly.</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Come, I'll split the difference, gen'lmen,' urged Gamfield. -'Three pound fifteen.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Not a farthing more,' was the firm reply of Mr. Limbkins.</p> - -<p class="i1">"'You're desp'rate hard upon me, gen'lmen,' said Gamfield, -wavering.</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Pooh! pooh! nonsense!' said the gentleman in the white -waistcoat. 'He'd be cheap with nothing at all as a premium. -Take him, you silly fellow! He's just the boy for you. He -wants the stick now and then; it'll do him good; and his board -needn't come very expensive, for he hasn't been overfed since he -was born. Ha! ha! ha!'</p> - -<p class="i1">"Mr. Gamfield gave an arch look at the faces round the table, -and, observing a smile on all of them, gradually broke into a -smile himself. The bargain was made, and Mr. Bumble was at -once instructed that Oliver Twist and his indentures were to be -conveyed before the magistrate for signature and approval, that -very afternoon.</p> - -<p class="i1">"In pursuance of this determination, little Oliver, to his excessive -astonishment, was released from bondage, and ordered to put -himself into a clean shirt. He had hardly achieved this very unusual -gymnastic performance, when Mr. Bumble brought him -with his own hands, a basin of gruel, and the holiday allowance -of two ounces and a quarter of bread; at sight of which Oliver -began to cry very piteously, thinking, not unnaturally, that the -board must have determined to kill him for some useful purpose, -or they never would have begun to fatten him up in this way.</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Don't make your eyes red, Oliver, but eat your food, and be -thankful,' said Mr. Bumble, in a tone of impressive pomposity.</p> - -<p class="i1">'You're a-going to be made a 'prentice of, Oliver.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'A 'prentice, sir!' said the child, trembling.</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Yes, Oliver,' said Mr. Bumble. 'The kind and blessed gentlemen -which is so many parents to you, Oliver, when you have -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_235" id="Page_235">[Pg 235]</a></span> -none of your own, are a-going to 'prentice you, and to set you up -in life, and make a man of you, although the expense to the -parish is three pound ten!—three pound ten, Oliver!—seventy -shillin's!—one hundred and forty sixpences!—and all for a -naughty orphan which nobody can love.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"As Mr. Bumble paused to take breath after delivering this -address, in an awful voice, the tears rolled down the poor child's -face, and he sobbed bitterly.</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Come,' said Mr. Bumble, somewhat less pompously; for it -was gratifying to his feelings to observe the effect his eloquence -had produced. 'Come, Oliver, wipe your eyes with the cuffs of -your jacket, and don't cry into your gruel; that's a very foolish -action, Oliver.' It certainly was, for there was quite enough -water in it already.</p> - -<p class="i1">"On their way to the magistrate's, Mr. Bumble instructed -Oliver that all he would have to do would be to look very happy, -and say, when the gentleman asked him if he wanted to be apprenticed, -that he should like it very much indeed; both of -which injunctions Oliver promised to obey, the more readily as -Mr. Bumble threw in a gentle hint, that if he failed in either particular, -there was no telling what would be done to him. When -they arrived at the office he was shut up in a little room by himself, -and admonished by Mr. Bumble to stay there until he came -back to fetch him.</p> - -<p class="i1">"There the boy remained with a palpitating heart for half an -hour, at the expiration of which time Mr. Bumble thrust in his -head, unadorned with the cocked hat, and said aloud,</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Now, Oliver, my dear, come to the gentleman.' As Mr. -Bumble said this, he put on a grim and threatening look, and -added in a low voice, 'Mind what I told you, you young rascal.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"Oliver stared innocently in Mr. Bumble's face at this somewhat -contradictory style of address; but that gentleman prevented -his offering any remark thereupon, by leading him at once -into an adjoining room, the door of which was open. It was a -large room with a great window; and behind a desk sat two old -gentlemen with powdered heads, one of whom was reading the -newspaper, while the other was perusing, with the aid of a pair -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_236" id="Page_236">[Pg 236]</a></span> -of tortoise-shell spectacles, a small piece of parchment which lay -before him. Mr. Limbkins was standing in front of the desk, on -one side; and Mr. Gamfield, with a partially washed face, on the -other; while two or three bluff-looking men in top-boots were -lounging about.</p> - -<p class="i1">"The old gentleman with the spectacles gradually dozed off, -over the little bit of parchment; and there was a short pause -after Oliver had been stationed by Mr. Bumble in front of the -desk.</p> - -<p class="i1">"'This is the boy, your worship,' said Mr. Bumble.</p> - -<p class="i1">"The old gentleman who was reading the newspaper raised -his head for a moment, and pulled the other old gentleman by -the sleeve, whereupon the last-mentioned old gentleman woke up.</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Oh, is this the boy?' said the old gentleman.</p> - -<p class="i1">"'This is him, sir,' replied Mr. Bumble. 'Bow to the magistrate, -my dear.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"Oliver roused himself, and made his best obeisance. He had -been wondering, with his eyes fixed on the magistrate's powder, -whether all boards were born with that white stuff on their -heads, and were boards from thenceforth, on that account.</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Well,' said the old gentleman, 'I suppose he's fond of chimney-sweeping?'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'He dotes on it, your worship,' replied Bumble, giving Oliver -a sly pinch, to intimate that he had better not say he didn't.</p> - -<p class="i1">"'And he <i>will</i> be a sweep, will he?' inquired the old gentleman.</p> - -<p class="i1">"'If we was to bind him to any other trade to-morrow, he'd -run away simultaneously, your worship,' replied Bumble.</p> - -<p class="i1">"'And this man that's to be his master,—you, sir,—you'll -treat him well, and feed him, and do all that sort of thing,—will -you?' said the old gentleman.</p> - -<p class="i1">"'When I says I will, I means I will,' replied Mr. Gamfield, -doggedly.</p> - -<p class="i1">"'You're a rough speaker, my friend, but you look an honest, -open-hearted man,' said the old gentleman, turning his spectacles -in the direction of the candidate for Oliver's premium, whose -villanous countenance was a regular stamped receipt for cruelty. -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_237" id="Page_237">[Pg 237]</a></span> -But the magistrate was half blind, and half childish, so he -couldn't reasonably be expected to discern what other people did.</p> - -<p class="i1">"'I hope I am, sir,' said Mr. Gamfield with an ugly leer.</p> - -<p class="i1">"'I have no doubt you are, my friend,' replied the old gentleman, -fixing his spectacles more firmly on his nose, and looking -about him for the inkstand.</p> - -<p class="i1">"It was the critical moment of Oliver's fate. If the inkstand -had been where the old gentleman thought it was, he would have -dipped his pen into it and signed the indentures, and Oliver -would have been straightway hurried off. But, as it chanced to -be immediately under his nose, it followed as a matter of course, -that he looked all over his desk for it, without finding it; and -happening in the course of his search to look straight before him, -his gaze encountered the pale and terrified face of Oliver Twist, -who, despite of all the admonitory looks and pinches of Bumble, -was regarding the very repulsive countenance of his future master -with a mingled expression of horror and fear, too palpable to -be mistaken even by a half-blind magistrate.</p> - -<p class="i1">"The old gentleman stopped, laid down his pen, and looked -from Oliver to Mr. Limbkins, who attempted to take snuff with a -cheerful and unconcerned aspect.</p> - -<p class="i1">"'My boy,' said the old gentleman, leaning over the desk. -Oliver started at the sound,—he might be excused for doing so, -for the words were kindly said, and strange sounds frighten one. -He trembled violently, and burst into tears.</p> - -<p class="i1">"'My boy,' said the old gentleman, 'you look pale and -alarmed. What is the matter?'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Stand a little away from him, beadle,' said the other magistrate, -laying aside the paper and leaning forward with an expression -of some interest. 'Now, boy, tell us what's the matter; -don't be afraid.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"Oliver fell on his knees, and, clasping his hands together, -prayed that they would order him back to the dark room—that -they would starve him—beat him—kill him if they pleased, rather -than send him away with that dreadful man.</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Well!' said Mr. Bumble, raising his hands and eyes with -most impressive solemnity—'Well! of <i>all</i> the artful and designing -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_238" id="Page_238">[Pg 238]</a></span> -orphans that ever I see, Oliver, you are one of the most bare-facedest.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Hold your tongue, beadle,' said the second old gentleman, -when Mr. Bumble had given vent to this compound adjective.</p> - -<p class="i1">"'I beg your worship's pardon,' said Mr. Bumble, incredulous -of his having heard aright—'did your worship speak to me?'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Yes—hold your tongue.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"Mr. Bumble was stupefied with astonishment. A beadle -ordered to hold his tongue! A moral revolution.</p> - -<p class="i1">"The old gentleman in the tortoise-shell spectacles looked at -his companion; he nodded significantly.</p> - -<p class="i1">"'We refuse to sanction these indentures,' said the old gentleman, -tossing aside the piece of parchment as he spoke.</p> - -<p class="i1">"'I hope,' stammered Mr. Limbkins—'I hope the magistrates -will not form the opinion that the authorities have been guilty -of any improper conduct, on the unsupported testimony of a mere -child.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'The magistrates are not called upon to pronounce any opinion -on the matter,' said the second old gentleman, sharply. 'Take -the boy back to the workhouse and treat him kindly; he seems -to want it.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"That same evening the gentleman in the white waistcoat most -positively and decidedly affirmed, not only that Oliver would be -hung, but that he would be drawn and quartered into the bargain. -Mr. Bumble shook his head with gloomy mystery, and said -he wished he might come to good: to which Mr. Gamfield replied -that he wished he might come to him, which, although he agreed -with the beadle in most matters, would seem to be a wish of a -totally opposite description.</p> - -<p class="i1">"The next morning the public were once more informed that -Oliver Twist was again to let, and that five pounds would be paid -to anybody who would take possession of him.</p> - -<p class="i1">"In great families, when an advantageous place cannot be obtained, -either in possession, reversion, remainder, or expectancy, -for the young man who is growing up, it is a very general custom -to send him to sea. The board, in imitation of so wise and salutary -an example, took counsel together on the expediency of shipping -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_239" id="Page_239">[Pg 239]</a></span> -off Oliver Twist in some small trading-vessel bound to a good -unhealthy port, which suggested itself as the very best thing that -could possibly be done with him; the probability being that the -skipper would either flog him to death in a playful mood, some -day after dinner, or knock his brains out with an iron bar, both -pastimes being, as is pretty generally known, very favourite and -common recreations among gentlemen of that class. The more -the case presented itself to the board in this point of view, the -more manifold the advantages of the step appeared; so they came -to the conclusion that the only way of providing for Oliver effectually, -was to send him to sea without delay.</p> - -<p class="i1">"Mr. Bumble had been despatched to make various preliminary -inquiries, with the view of finding out some captain or other -who wanted a cabin-boy without any friends; and was returning -to the workhouse to communicate the result of his mission, when -he encountered just at the gate no less a person than Mr. Sowerberry, -the parochial undertaker.</p> - -<p class="i1">"Mr. Sowerberry was a tall, gaunt, large-jointed man, attired -in a suit of threadbare black, with darned cotton stockings of the -same colour, and shoes to answer. His features were not naturally -intended to wear a smiling aspect, but he was in general -rather given to professional jocosity; his step was elastic, and his -face betokened inward pleasantry as he advanced to Mr. Bumble -and shook him cordially by the hand.</p> - -<p class="i1">"'I have taken the measure of the two women that died last -night, Mr. Bumble,' said the undertaker.</p> - -<p class="i1">"'You'll make your fortune, Mr. Sowerberry,' said the beadle, -as he thrust his thumb and forefinger into the proffered snuff-box -of the undertaker, which was an ingenious little model of a patent -coffin. 'I say you'll make your fortune, Mr. Sowerberry,' repeated -Mr. Bumble, tapping the undertaker on the shoulder in a -friendly manner with his cane.</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Think so?' said the undertaker in a tone which half admitted -and half disputed the probability of the event. 'The prices allowed -by the board are very small, Mr. Bumble.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'So are the coffins,' replied the beadle, with precisely as near -an approach to a laugh as a great official ought to indulge in.</p></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_240" id="Page_240">[Pg 240]</a></span></p> - -<div class="bq"> - -<p class="i1">"Mr. Sowerberry was much tickled at this, as of course he -ought to be, and laughed a long time without cessation. 'Well, -well, Mr. Bumble,' he said at length, 'there's no denying that, -since the new system of feeding has come in, the coffins are something -narrower and more shallow than they used to be; but we -must have some profit, Mr. Bumble. Well-seasoned timber is an -expensive article, sir; and all the iron handles come by canal -from Birmingham.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Well, well,' said Mr. Bumble, 'every trade has its drawbacks, -and a fair profit is of course allowable.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Of course, of course,' replied the undertaker; 'and if I don't -get a profit upon this or that particular article, why I make it up -in the long run, you see—he! he! he!'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Just so,' said Mr. Bumble.</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Though I must say,'—continued the undertaker, resuming -the current of observations which the beadle had interrupted,—'though -I must say, Mr. Bumble, that I have to contend against -one very great disadvantage, which is, that all the stout people -go off the quickest—I mean that the people who have been better -off, and have paid rates for many years, are the first to sink when -they come into the house; and let me tell you, Mr. Bumble, that -three or four inches over one's calculation makes a great hole in -one's profits, especially when one has a family to provide for, sir.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"As Mr. Sowerberry said this, with the becoming indignation -of an ill-used man, and as Mr. Bumble felt that it rather tended -to convey a reflection on the honour of the parish, the latter gentleman -thought it advisable to change the subject; and Oliver -Twist being uppermost in his mind, he made him his theme.</p> - -<p class="i1">"'By-the-by,' said Mr. Bumble, 'you don't know anybody who -wants a boy, do you—a parochial 'prentis, who is at present a -dead-weight—a millstone, as I may say—round the parochial -throat? Liberal terms, Mr. Sowerberry—liberal terms;' and, as -Mr. Bumble spoke, he raised his cane to the bill above him and -gave three distinct raps upon the words 'five pounds,' which were -printed therein in Roman capitals of gigantic size.</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Gadso!' said the undertaker, taking Mr. Bumble by the -gilt-edged lappel of his official coat; 'that's just the very thing I -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_241" id="Page_241">[Pg 241]</a></span> -wanted to speak to you about. You know—dear me, what a very -elegant button this is, Mr. Bumble; I never noticed it before.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Yes, I think it is rather pretty,' said the beadle, glancing -proudly downward at the large brass buttons which embellished -his coat. 'The die is the same as the parochial seal—the Good -Samaritan healing the sick and bruised man. The board presented -it to me on New-year's morning, Mr. Sowerberry. I put -it on, I remember, for the first time to attend the inquest on that -reduced tradesman who died in a doorway at midnight.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"' I recollect,' said the undertaker. 'The jury brought in—Died -from exposure to the cold, and want of the common necessaries -of life—didn't they?'</p> - -<p class="i1">"Mr. Bumble nodded.</p> - -<p class="i1">"'And they made it a special verdict, I think,' said the undertaker, -'by adding some words to the effect, that if the relieving -officer had'——</p> - -<p class="i1">'Tush—foolery!' interposed the beadle, angrily. 'If the -board attended to all the nonsense that ignorant jurymen talk, -they'd have enough to do.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Very true,' said the undertaker; 'they would indeed.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Juries,' said Mr. Bumble, grasping his cane tightly, as was -his wont when working into a passion—'juries is ineddicated, -vulgar, grovelling wretches.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'So they are,' said the undertaker.</p> - -<p class="i1">"'They haven't no more philosophy or political economy about -'em than that,' said the beadle, snapping his fingers contemptuously.</p> - -<p class="i1">"'No more they have,' acquiesced the undertaker.</p> - -<p class="i1">"'I despise 'em,' said the beadle, growing very red in the face.</p> - -<p class="i1">"'So do I,' rejoined the undertaker.</p> - -<p class="i1">"'And I only wish we'd a jury of the independent sort in the -house for a week or two,' said the beadle; 'the rules and regulations -of the board would soon bring their spirit down for them.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Let'em alone for that,' replied the undertaker. So saying, -he smiled approvingly to calm the rising wrath of the indignant -parish officer.</p> - -<p class="i1">"Mr. Bumble lifted off his cocked-hat, took a handkerchief -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_242" id="Page_242">[Pg 242]</a></span> -from the inside of the crown, wiped from his forehead the perspiration -which his rage had engendered, fixed the cocked hat on -again, and, turning to the undertaker, said in a calmer voice, -'Well, what about the boy?'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Oh!' replied the undertaker; 'why, you know, Mr. Bumble, -I pay a good deal toward the poor's rates.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Hem!' said Mr. Bumble. 'Well?'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Well,' replied the undertaker, 'I was thinking that if I pay -so much toward 'em, I've a right to get as much out of 'em as I -can, Mr. Bumble; and so—and so—I think I'll take the boy -myself.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"Mr. Bumble grasped the undertaker by the arm and led him -into the building. Mr. Sowerberry was closeted with the board -for five minutes, and then it was arranged that Oliver should go -to him that evening 'upon liking'—a phrase which means, in the -case of a parish apprentice, that if the master find, upon a short -trial, that he can get enough work out of a boy without putting -too much food in him, he shall have him for a term of years to -do what he likes with.</p> - -<p class="i1">"When little Oliver was taken before 'the gentlemen' that -evening, and informed that he was to go that night as general -house-lad to a coffin-maker's, and that if he complained of his -situation, or ever came back to the parish again, he would be sent -to sea, there to be drowned or knocked on the head, as the case -might be, he evinced so little emotion, that they by common consent -pronounced him a hardened young rascal, and ordered Mr. -Bumble to remove him forthwith."</p></div> - -<p class="i1">Some years ago an investigation into the treatment -of the poor in St. Pancras workhouse was made. It -originated in the suicide of a girl, who, having left her -place, drowned herself rather than return to the workhouse -to be confined in the "shed"—a place of confinement -for refractory and ill-disposed paupers. The unanimous -verdict of the coroner's jury was to this effect, -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_243" id="Page_243">[Pg 243]</a></span> -and had appended to it an opinion that the discipline -of the shed was unnecessarily severe. This verdict led -to an investigation.</p> - -<p class="i1">Mr. Howarth, senior churchwarden, a guardian, and -a barrister, explained that the shed was used for separating -able-bodied, idle, and dissolute paupers from the -aged and respectable inmates of the house. The shed -was not, he declared, a place of confinement any more -than the workhouse itself. The place in question consists -of two rooms, a day-room and a dormitory, on the -basement of the main building, two feet below the level -of the soil, each about thirty-five feet long by fifteen -wide and seven high. The bedroom contains ten beds, -occupied sometimes by sixteen, sometimes by twenty or -twenty-four paupers. According to the hospital calculation -of a cube of nine feet to an occupant, the dormitory -should accommodate six persons. The damp from -an adjoining cesspool oozes through the walls. This -pleasant apartment communicates with a yard forty feet -long, and from fifteen to twenty broad, with a flagged -pavement and high walls. This yard is kept always -locked. But it is not a place of confinement. Oh no! -it is a place of separation.</p> - -<p class="i1">Let us see the evidence of James Hill, who waits on -the occupants of the shed:—"They are locked up night -and day. They frequently escape over the walls. They -are put in for misconduct."</p> - -<p class="i1">Mr. Lee, the master of the workhouse, declares that -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_244" id="Page_244">[Pg 244]</a></span> -if the persons in the shed make application to come out, -they are frequently released. He is "not aware if he -has any legal right to refuse them, but does sometimes -exercise that authority." One of the women is there -for throwing her clothes over the wall; another for -getting "overtaken in liquor" while out of the house, -and losing her pail and brush. A third inmate is a girl -of weak intellect, who went out for a day, was made -drunk and insensible by a male pauper, and suffered -dreadful maltreatment.</p> - -<p class="i1">All the pauper witnesses represent the shed as a place -of punishment. The six ounces of meat given three -times a week by the dietary, is reduced to four ounces -for the shed paupers. Still all this, in Mr. Howarth's -eyes, neither constitutes the shed a place of confinement -nor of punishment. It is a place of separation. So is -a prison. It is a prison in a prison; a lower depth in -the lowest deep of workhouse wretchedness and restraint.</p> - -<p class="i1">Are we to be told that this is "classification," (as -the report of the directors impudently calls it,) by which -the young and old, imbecile and drunken, sickly and -turbulent, are shut up together day and night picking -oakum; looking out through the heavy day on the bare -walls of their wretched yard—at night breathing their -own fœtid exhalations and the miasma of a cesspool, -twenty-four of them sometimes in a space only fit to -accommodate six with due regard to health and decency? -And all this at the arbitrary will of master or matron, -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_245" id="Page_245">[Pg 245]</a></span> -unchecked by the board! One poor creature had been -there for three years. She had not come out because -"she was in such bad health, and had nowhere to go." -Yet she was shut up, because she was considered able -bodied and fit for work, when her appearance belied it, -and spoke her broken spirit and shattered constitution.</p> - -<p class="i1">Mr. W. Lee, guardian, seemed blessed with an unusual -amount of ignorance as to his legal powers and responsibilities. -He kept no account of persons confined in -the black-hole, for forty-eight hours sometimes, and -without directions from the board. He thought the -matron had power to put paupers in the strong room. -On one point he was certain: he "had no doubt that -persons have been confined without his orders." He -"had no doubt that he had received instructions from -the board about the refractory ward, but he does not -know where to find them." "If any paupers committed -to the ward feel aggrieved, they can apply to be released, -and he had no doubt he would release them." He made -no weekly report of punishments. He reigned supreme, -monarch of all he surveyed, wielding the terrors of shed -and black-hole unquestioned and unchecked.</p> - -<p class="i1">In Miss Stone, the matron, he had a worthy coadjutrix. -The lady felt herself very much "degraded" by -the coroner's jury. They asked her some most inconvenient -questions, to which she gave awkwardly ready -answers. She confined to the shed a girl who returned -from place, though she admitted the work of the place -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_246" id="Page_246">[Pg 246]</a></span> -was too much for her. She confessed she might have -punished Jones (the suicide) by putting her in the black-hole; -but it was a mere trifle—"only a few hours" in -an underground cell, "perhaps from morning till night, -for refusing to do some domestic service." Jones was -helpless; her mistress brought her back to the workhouse. -Jones cried, and begged to be taken back to -service, offering to work for nothing. Her recollections -of the workhouse do not seem to have been pleasant. -Hard work, unpaid; suicide; any thing rather than the -shed.</p> - -<p class="i1">A precious testimony to the St. Pancras system of -"classification!" These paupers in the shed are clearly -a refractory set. "They complain of being shut up -so long." "They say they would like more bread and -more meat." Audacious as Oliver Twist! They even -complain of the damp and bad smell. Ungrateful, dainty -wretches! On the whole, as Mr. Howarth says, it is -evidently "unjust to suppose that the system of separation -adopted in the house is regarded as a mode of punishment." -The directors issued a solemn summons to -the members of the parochial medical board. District -surgeons and consulting surgeons assembled, inspected -the shed, and pronounced it a very pleasant place if the -roof were higher, and if the ventilation were better, and -if the damp were removed, and if fewer slept in a bed, -and six instead of twenty-four in the room. They then -examined the dietary, and pronounced it sufficient if -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_247" id="Page_247">[Pg 247]</a></span> -the allowances were of full weight, if the meat were of -the best quality, if there were plenty of milk in the -porridge, and if the broth were better. Great virtue -in an "if!" Unhappily, in the present case, the allowances -were not full weight; the meat not of the best -quality; there is not milk enough in the porridge; and -the broth might be very much better, and yet not good.</p> - -<p class="i1">Mr. Cooper, the parish surgeon, was a special object -of antipathy to the worthy and humane Howarth; he -was one of those ridiculously particular men, unfit to -deal with paupers. He actually objected to the pauper -women performing their ablutions in the urinals, and -felt aggrieved when the master told him to "mind his -shop," and Howarth stood by without rebuking the -autocrat! Mr. Cooper, too, admits that the dietary -would be sufficient with all the above-mentioned "ifs." -But he finds that the milk porridge contains one quart -of milk to six of oat-meal; that the meat is half fat, and -often uneatable from imperfect cooking; and that the -frequent stoppages of diet are destructive of the health -of the younger inmates. His remonstrances, however, -have been received in a style that has read him a lesson, -and he ceases to remonstrate accordingly, and the guardians -have it as they would—a silent surgeon and an -omnipotent master.</p> - -<p class="i1">The saddest part of the farce, however, was that of -the last day's proceedings. The quality and quantity -of the diet had been discussed; the directors felt bound -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_248" id="Page_248">[Pg 248]</a></span> -to examine into both; so they proceeded to the house. -Of course the master knew nothing of the intended visit. -Who can suspect the possibility of such a thing after -the previous display of Howarth's impartiality and determination -to do justice? So to the house they went. -They took the excellent Lee quite by surprise, and enjoyed -parish pot-luck. Dr. Birmingham's description -makes one's mouth water:—</p> - -<div class="bq"> - -<p class="i1">"He came to the house on Saturday, in order to examine the -food; he found that, on that day, the inmates had what was called -ox-cheek soup; he tasted it, and he was so well satisfied with it -that he took all that was given to him. He then went into the -kitchen, and saw the master cutting up meat for the sick and -infirm. He tasted the mutton, and found it as succulent and as -good as that which he purchased for his own consumption."</p></div> - -<p class="i1">The picture of this patriarchal and benevolent master -"cutting up meat for the sick and infirm," is perfectly -beautiful. Howarth, too, did his duty, and was equally -lucky.</p> - -<div class="bq"> - -<p class="i1">"Mr. Howarth stated that he had visited the house yesterday, -and had examined the food, with the quality of which he was -perfectly satisfied. He tasted the soup, and was so well pleased -with it that he obtained an allowance. (A laugh.)"</p></div> - -<p class="i1">But not satisfied with this, that Rhadamanthus of a -Birmingham proposed a crucial test.</p> - -<div class="bq"> - -<p class="i1">"He begged to move that the master of the workhouse be desired -to bring before the board the ordinary rations allowed the -paupers for breakfast, dinner, and supper; and that any gentleman -present be allowed to call and examine any of the paupers -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_249" id="Page_249">[Pg 249]</a></span> -as to whether the food they usually received was of the same -quality, and in the same quantity."</p></div> - -<p class="i1">The rations were produced; "and, lo! the porridge -smoked upon the board." Thus it was, in tempting and -succulent array—the pauper bill of fare:—</p> - -<table class="narrow" id="BILL_OF_FARE" summary="Pauper Bill of Fare"> - <tr> - <td class="c1-1"></td> - <td class="c1-1"></td> - <td class="c1-1">Soup.</td> - <td class="c1-1"></td> - <td class="c1-1"></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c1-1">Cheese.</td> - <td class="c1-1"></td> - <td class="c1-1">Pease porridge.</td> - <td class="c1-1"></td> - <td class="c1-1">Potatoes.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c1-1"></td> - <td class="c1-1">Meat.</td> - <td class="c1-1"></td> - <td class="c1-1">Beer.</td> - <td class="c1-1"></td> - </tr> - </table> - -<p class="i1">Nothing can be more tempting; who would not be a -pauper of St. Pancras? Six paupers are called in, and -one and all testify that the rations of meat, potatoes, -soup, and porridge are better in quality and greater in -quantity than the workhouse allowance. There is a -slight pause. Birmingham looks blank at Howarth, and -Howarth gazes uneasily on Birmingham; but it is only -for a minute: ready wits jump:—</p> - -<div class="bq"> - -<p class="i1">"<i>Dr. Birmingham.</i> This is the allowance for Sunday.</p> - -<p class="i1">"<i>Mr. Marley.</i> I understand there is no difference between the -allowance on Sunday and on any other day.</p> - -<p class="i1">"<i>Mr. Howarth.</i> They have better meat on Sundays."</p></div> - -<p class="i1">What follows this glaring exposure? Impeachment -of the master, on this clear proof of malversation in the -house and dishonesty before the board? So expects -Mr. Halton, and very naturally suggests that Mr. Lee -be called on for an explanation. Mr. Lee is not called -on, and no explanation takes place. The room is cleared, -and, after an hour and a half's discussion, a report is -unanimously agreed to. Our readers may anticipate its -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_250" id="Page_250">[Pg 250]</a></span> -tenour. It finds that there is no place deserving to be -called the shed; that the rooms so called are very admirable -places of "separation" for refractory paupers; -that the diet is excellent; that every thing is as it ought -to be. It recommends that reports of punishments be -more regularly made to the board, that classification of -old and young be improved, and that some little change -be made in the ventilation of the refractory wards!</p> - -<p class="i1">And so concludes this sad farce of the St. Pancras -investigation. One more disgraceful to the guardians -cannot be found even in the pregnant annals of workhouse -mismanagement.<a name="FNanchor_92_92" id="FNanchor_92_92"></a> -<a href="#Footnote_92_92" class="fnanchor">[92]</a></p> - -<p class="i1">"Farming out" paupers, especially children, is one -of the most prolific sources of misery among the -English poor who are compelled to appeal to the -parish authorities. This practice consists of entering -into contracts with individuals to supply the paupers -with food, clothing, and lodging. The man who offers -to perform the work for the smallest sum commonly -gets the contract, and then the poor wretches who look -to him for the necessaries of life must submit to all -kinds of treatment, and be stinted in every thing. -During the last visit of that scourge, the cholera, to -England, a large number of farmed pauper children -were crowded, by one Mr. Drouet, a contractor, into a -close and filthy building, where they nearly all perished. -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_251" id="Page_251">[Pg 251]</a></span> -An investigation was subsequently held, but influential -persons screened the authors of this tragedy from -justice. During the investigation, it was clearly shown -that the children confided to the care of Mr. Drouet -were kept in a state of filth and semi-starvation.</p> - -<p class="i1">So much for the boasted charity of the dominant -class in Great Britain! By its enormous drain upon -the public purse, and its vast monopoly of that soil -which was given for the use of all, it creates millions -of paupers—wretches without homes, without resources, -and almost without hope; and then, to prevent themselves -from being hurled from their high and luxurious -places, and from being devoured as by ravenous wolves, -they take the miserable paupers in hand, separate -families, shut them up, as in the worst of prisons, and -give them something to keep life in their bodies. -Then the lords and ladies ask the world to admire their -charitable efforts. What they call charity is the offspring -of fear!</p> - -<p class="i1">A member of the humbler classes in England no -sooner begins to exist, than the probability of his becoming -a pauper is contemplated by the laws. A writer -in Chambers's Journal says, in regard to this point—</p> - -<div class="bq"> - -<p class="i1">"Chargeability is the English slave system. The poor man -cannot go where he lists in search of employment—he may become -chargeable. He cannot take a good place which may be -offered to him, for he cannot get a residence, lest he become -chargeable. Houses are pulled down over the ears of honest -working-men, and decent poor people are driven from Dan to -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_252" id="Page_252">[Pg 252]</a></span> -Beersheba, lest they become chargeable. There is something infinitely -distressing in the whole basis of this idea—that an English -peasant must needs be regarded from his first breath, and all -through life, as a possible pauper. But the positive hardships -arising from the idea are what we have at present to deal with.</p> - -<p class="i1">"These are delineated in a happy collection of facts lately -brought forward by Mr. Chadwick at a meeting of the Farmers' -Club in London. It appears that the company assembled, who, -from their circumstances, were all qualified to judge of the truth -of the facts and the soundness of the conclusions, gave a general -assent to what was said by the learned poor-law secretary. Unfortunately, -we can only give a few passages from this very remarkable -speech.</p> - -<p class="i1">"Mr. Chadwick first referred to the operation of the existing -law upon <i>unsettled</i> labouring men. 'The lower districts of Reading -were severely visited with fever during the last year, which -called attention to the sanitary condition of the labouring population. -I was requested to visit it. While making inquiries -upon the subject, I learned that some of the worst-conditioned -places were occupied by agricultural labourers. Many of them, -it appeared, walked four, six, seven, and even eight miles, in wet -and snow, to and from their places of work, after twelve hours' -work on the farm. Why, however, were agricultural labourers -in these fever-nests of a town? I was informed, in answer, that -they were driven in there by the pulling down of cottages, to -avoid parochial settlements and contributions to their maintenance -in the event of destitution. Among a group, taken as an -example there, in a wretched place consisting of three rooms, ten -feet long, lived Stephen Turner, a wife, and three children. He -walked to and from his place of work about seven miles daily, -expending two hours and a half in walking before he got to his -productive work on the farm. His wages are 10<i>s.</i> a week, out -of which he pays 2<i>s.</i> for his wretched tenement. If he were resident -on the farm, the two and a half hours of daily labour spent -in walking might be expended in productive work; his labour -would be worth, according to his own account, and I believe to a -farmer's acknowledgment, 2<i>s.</i> 6<i>d.</i> per week more. For a rent of -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_253" id="Page_253">[Pg 253]</a></span> -£5 5<i>s.</i>, such as he now pays, he would be entitled to a good cottage -with a garden; and his wife and children being near, would -be available for the farm labour. So far as I could learn there -are between one hundred and two hundred agricultural labourers -living in the borough of Reading, and the numbers are increasing. -The last week brought to my notice a fact illustrative of -the present unjust state of things, so far as regards the labourer. -A man belonging to Maple-Durham lived in Reading; walked -about four miles a day to his work, the same back, frequently -getting wet; took fever, and continued ill some time, assisted by -the Reading Union in his illness; recovered, and could have returned -to his former employment of 10<i>s.</i> per week, but found he -was incapable of walking the distance; the consequence was, he -took work that only enabled him to earn 5<i>s.</i> per week; he is now -again unable to work. Even in Lincolnshire, where the agriculture -is of a high order, and the wages of the labourer consequently -not of the lowest, similar displacements have been made, -to the prejudice of the farmer as well as the labourer, and, as will -be seen, of the owner himself. Near Gainsborough, Lincoln, and -Louth, the labourers walk even longer distances than near Reading. -I am informed of instances where they walk as far as six -miles; that is, twelve miles daily, or seventy-two miles weekly, -to and from their places of work. Let us consider the bare -economy, the mere waste of labour, and what a state of agricultural -management is indicated by the fact that such a waste can -have taken place. Fifteen miles a day is the regular march of -infantry soldiers, with two rest-days—one on Monday, and one -on Thursday; twenty-four miles is a forced march. The man -who expends eight miles per diem, or forty-eight miles per week, -expends to the value of at least two days' hard labour per week, -or one hundred in the year, uselessly, that might be expended -usefully and remuneratively in production. How different is it -in manufactories, and in some of the mines, or at least in the -best-managed and most successful of them! In some mines as -much as £2000 and £3000 is paid for new machinery to benefit -the labourers, and save them the labour of ascending and descending -by ladders. In many manufactories they have hoists to -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_254" id="Page_254">[Pg 254]</a></span> -raise them and their loads from lower to upper rooms, to save -them the labour of toiling up stairs, to economize their strength -for piece-work to mutual advantage. It is not in county and -borough towns only that this unwholesome over-crowding is going -on. I am informed that from the like cause the evil of over-crowding -is going on in the ill-conditioned villages of open parishes. -It is admitted, and made manifest in extensive evidence given before -a committee of the house of lords by practical farmers, that -when an agricultural labourer applies for work, the first question -put to him is, not what has been his experience, what can he do, -but to what parish does he belong. If he do not belong to the -parish of the occupier, the reply is usually an expression of regret -that he can only employ the labourer of his own parish. To -the extent to which the farmer is directly liable to the payment -of rates, by the displacement of a settled parish labourer, he is -liable to a penalty for the employment of any other labourer who -is not of the parish. To the same extent is he liable to a penalty -if he do not employ a parish labourer who is worthless, though -a superior labourer may be got by going farther a-field, to whom -he would give better wages. This labourer who would go farther -is thus driven back upon his parish; that is to say, imposed, and -at the same time made dependent, upon the two or three or several -farmers, by whom the parish is occupied. He then says, 'If -this or that farmer will not employ me, one of them must; if -none of them will, the parish must keep me, and the parish pay -is as good as any.' Labour well or ill, he will commonly get -little more, and it is a matter of indifference to him: it is found -to be, in all its essential conditions, labour without hope—slave -labour; and he is rendered unworthy of his hire. On the other -hand, in what condition does the law place the employer? It -imposes upon him the whole mass of labourers of a narrow district, -of whatsoever sort, without reference to his wants or his -capital. He says, 'I do not want the men at this time, or these -men are not suitable to me; they will not do the work I want; -but if I must have them, or pay for keeping them in idleness if I -do not employ them, why, then, I can only give them such wages -as their labour is worth to me, and that is little.' Hence wages -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_255" id="Page_255">[Pg 255]</a></span> -are inevitably reduced. What must be the effect upon the manufacturer -if he were placed in the same position as tenant farmers -are in the smaller parishes in the southern counties, if he were -restricted to the employment only of the labourers in the parish?—if, -before he engaged a smith, a carpenter, or a mason, he were -compelled to inquire, 'To what parish do you belong?' Why, -that the 24<i>s.</i> a week labour would fall to 12<i>s.</i> or 10<i>s.</i>, or the price -of agricultural labour. Agriculturists from northern districts, -who work their farms with 12<i>s.</i> and 15<i>s.</i> a week free labour, have -declined the temptation of low rents, to take farms in parishes -where the wages are 7<i>s.</i> or 8<i>s.</i> a week. While inspecting a farm -in one of these pauperized districts, an able agriculturist could not -help noticing the slow, drawling motions of one of the labourers -there, and said, 'My man, you do not sweat at that work,' 'Why, -no, master,' was the reply; 'seven shillings a week isn't sweating -wages,' The evidence I have cited indicates the circumstances -which prevent the adoption of piece-work, and which, -moreover, restrict the introduction of machinery into agricultural -operations, which, strange though it may appear to many, is -greatly to the injury of the working classes; for wherever agricultural -labour is free, and machinery has been introduced, there -more and higher-paid labour is required, and labourers are -enabled to go on and earn good wages by work with machines -long after their strength has failed them for working by hand. -In free districts, and with high cultivation by free and skilled -labour, I can adduce instances of skilled agricultural labourers -paid as highly as artisans. I could adduce an instance, bordering -upon Essex, where the owner, working it with common parish -labour at 1<i>s.</i> 6<i>d.</i>, a day, could not make it pay; and an able -farmer now works it with free labour, at 2<i>s.</i> 6<i>d.</i>, 3<i>s.</i>, and -3<i>s.</i> 6<i>d.</i>, and even more, per day, for task-work, and, there is -reason to believe, makes it pay well. A farmer, who died -not long ago immensely wealthy, was wont to say that 'he -could not live upon poor 2<i>s.</i> a day labour; he could not make his -money upon less than half-crowners.' The freedom of labour, -not only in the northern counties, but in some places near the -slave-labour districts of the southern counties, is already attended -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_256" id="Page_256">[Pg 256]</a></span> -with higher wages—at the rate of 12<i>s.</i>, 14<i>s.</i>, and 15<i>s.</i> weekly. -In such counties as Berks and Bedford, the freedom of the labour -market, when it came into full operation, could not raise wages -less than 2<i>s.</i> a week; and 2<i>s.</i> a week would, in those counties, -represent a sum of productive expenditure and increased produce -equal to the whole amount of unproductive expenditure on the -poor-rates.'"</p></div> - -<p class="i1">By this arrangement of parochial settlement, the -English agricultural labourer has a compulsory residence, -like that of the American slave upon the plantation -where he is born. This, therefore, is one of the -most striking manifestations of the peasant being a -serf. A free and beautiful system is that of the -English Unions!</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_257" id="Page_257">[Pg 257]</a></span></p> - - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VI" id="CHAPTER_VI"></a>CHAPTER VI.</h2> -</div> - -<p class="ac">IMPRESSMENT, OR KIDNAPPING WHITE MEN FOR SLAVES -IN THE NAVAL SERVICE.</p> - - -<p class="i1"><span class="sc">One</span> of the most repulsive features of the general -system of slavery in Great Britain, is called impressment. -It is the forcible removal of seamen from their -ordinary employment, and compelling them to serve, -against their will, in the ships of war. Long ago, -some of the maritime nations condemned men to the -galleys for crime. But Great Britain dooms peaceable -and unoffending men to her vessels of war, severs all -the ties of home and kindred, and outrages every principle -of justice, in this practice of impressment. The -husband is torn from his wife, the father from his children, -the brother from the sister, by the press-gangs—the -slave-hunters of Britain.</p> - -<div class="figcenter"><a name="i_257.jpg" id="i_257.jpg"></a> - <img src="images/i_257.jpg" - alt="" /> - <div class="caption">KIDNAPPING OF WILLIE MORRISON.</div> -</div> - -<p class="i1">This practice is not expressly sanctioned by any act -of Parliament, but it is so, indirectly, by the numerous -statutes that have been passed granting exemptions -from it. According to Lord Mansfield, it is "a power -founded upon immemorial usage," and is understood to -make a part of the common law. All <i>seafaring</i> men -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_258" id="Page_258">[Pg 258]</a></span> -are liable to impressment, unless specially protected by -custom or statute. Seamen executing particular services -for government, not unfrequently get protections -from the Admiralty, Navy Board, &c. Some are exempted -by local custom; and <i>ferrymen</i> are everywhere -privileged from impressment. The statutory exemptions -are as follows:—</p> - -<div class="bq"> - -<p class="i1">I. <i>Every ship in the coal-trade</i> has the following persons protected, -viz. two able seamen (such as the master shall nominate) -for every ship of one hundred tons, and one for every fifty tons -for every ship of one hundred tons and upward; and every officer -who presumes to impress any of the above, shall forfeit, to the -master or owner of such vessel, £10 for every man so impressed; -and such officers shall be incapable of holding any place, office, -or employment in any of his majesty's ships of war.—6 and 7 -Will. 3, c. 18, § 19.<a name="FNanchor_93_93" id="FNanchor_93_93"></a> -<a href="#Footnote_93_93" class="fnanchor">[93]</a></p> - -<p class="i1">II. <i>No parish apprentice</i> shall be compelled or permitted to enter -into his majesty's sea-service, until he arrives at the age of -eighteen years.—2 and 3 Anne, c. 6, § 4.</p> - -<p class="i1">III. Persons voluntarily binding themselves apprentices to sea-service, -shall not be impressed for three years from the date of -their indentures. [This is a protection for the master—not for -the parish apprentice.] But no persons above eighteen years of -age shall have any exemption or protection from his majesty's -service, if they have been at sea before they became apprentices.—2 -and 3 Anne, c. 6, § 15; 4 Anne, c. 19, § 17; and 13 Geo. 2, -c. 17, § 2.</p></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_259" id="Page_259">[Pg 259]</a></span></p> - -<div class="bq"> - -<p class="i1">IV. <i>Apprentices.</i>—The act 4 Geo. 4, c. 25, enacts some new -regulations with respect to the number of apprentices that ships -must have on board, according to their tonnage, and grants protection -to such apprentices till they have attained the age of -twenty-one years.</p> - -<p class="i1">V. <i>Persons employed in the fisheries.</i>—The act 50 Geo. 3, c. 108, -grants the following exemptions from impressment, viz.:</p> - -<p class="i1">1. <i>Masters of fishing vessels or boats</i>, who, either themselves or -their owners, have, or within six months before applying for a -protection shall have had, one apprentice or more, under sixteen -years of age, bound for five years, and employed in the business -of fishing.</p> - -<p class="i1">2. All such apprentices, not exceeding <i>eight</i> to every master or -owner of any fishing vessel of fifty tons or upward; not exceeding -<i>seven</i> to every vessel or boat of thirty-five tons, and under -fifty; not exceeding <i>six</i> to every vessel of thirty tons, or under -thirty-five; and not exceeding <i>four</i> to every boat under thirty -tons burden, during the time of their apprenticeship, and till the -age of twenty years; they continuing, for the time, in the business -of fishing only.</p> - -<p class="i1">3. <i>One mariner</i>, besides the master and apprentices, to every -fishing vessel of one hundred tons or upward, employed on the -sea-coast, during his continuance in such service.</p> - -<p class="i1">4. <i>Any landsman</i>, above the age of eighteen, entering and employed -on board such vessel for two years from his first going to -sea and to the end of the voyage then engaged in, if he so long -continue in such service. [The ignorance of a landsman seems -to be the only reason for this exemption.]</p> - -<p class="i1">An affidavit sworn before a justice of the peace, containing the -tonnage of such fishing vessel or boat, the port or place to which -she belongs, the name and description of the master, the age of -every apprentice, the term for which he is bound and the date of -his indenture, and the name, age, and description of every such -mariner and landsman respectively, and the time of such landsman's -first going to sea, is to be transmitted to the Admiralty; -who, upon finding the facts correctly stated, grant a separate protection -to every individual. In case, however, "<i>of an actual invasion -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_260" id="Page_260">[Pg 260]</a></span> -of these kingdoms, or imminent danger thereof</i>," such protected -persons may be impressed; but except upon such an emergency, -any officer or officers impressing such protected person, -shall respectively forfeit £20 to the party impressed, if not an -apprentice, or to his master if he be an apprentice.—§§ 2, 3, 4 -[The phrase, "imminent danger of invasion," is susceptible of -a wide interpretation for the purposes of tyranny.]</p> - -<p class="i1">VI. <i>General exemptions.</i>—All persons fifty-five years of age and -upward, and under eighteen years. Every person being a -foreigner, who shall serve in any merchant ship, or other trading -vessels or privateers, belonging to a subject of the crown of -Great Britain; and all persons, of what age soever, who shall use -the sea, shall be protected for two years, to be computed from the -time of their first using it.—13 Geo. 2, c. 17. [The impressment -of American seamen, before the war of 1812, shows how easily -these exemptions may be disregarded.]</p> - -<p class="i1">VII. <i>Harpooners</i>, line-managers, or boat-steerers, engaged in -the Southern whale fishery, are also protected.—26 Geo. 3, -c. 50.</p> - -<p class="i1">VIII. <i>Mariners employed in the herring fisheries</i> are exempted -while actually employed.—48 Geo. 3, c. 110.</p> - -<p class="i1">"The practice of impressment," says McCulloch, "so subversive -of every principle of justice, is vindicated on the alleged -ground of its being absolutely necessary to the manning of the -fleet. But this position, notwithstanding the confidence with -which it has been taken up, is not quite so tenable as has been -supposed. The difficulties experienced in procuring sailors for -the fleet at the breaking out of a war are not natural, but artificial, -and might be got rid of by a very simple arrangement. During -peace, not more than a fourth or fifth part of the seamen are retained -in his majesty's service that are commonly required during -war; and, if peace continue for a few years, the total number of -sailors in the king's and the merchant service is limited to that -which is merely adequate to supply the reduced demand of the -former and the ordinary demand of the latter. When, therefore, -war is declared, and 30,000 or 40,000 additional seamen are wanted -for the fleet, they cannot be obtained, unless by withdrawing them -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_261" id="Page_261">[Pg 261]</a></span> -from the merchant service, which has not more than its complement -of hands. But to do this by offering the seamen higher -wages would be next to impossible, and would, supposing it were -practicable, impose such a sacrifice upon the public as could -hardly be borne. And hence, it is said, the necessity of impressment, -a practice which every one admits can be justified on no -other ground than that of its being absolutely essential to the -public safety. It is plain, however, that a necessity of this kind -may be easily obviated. All, in fact, that is necessary for this -purpose, is merely to keep such a number of sailors in his majesty's -service during peace, as may suffice, with the ordinary -proportion of landsmen and boys, to man the fleet at the breaking -out of a war. Were this done, there would not be the shadow of -a pretence for resorting to impressment; and the practice, with -the cruelty and injustice inseparable from it, might be entirely -abolished.</p> - -<p class="i1">"But it is said that, though desirable in many respects, the -<i>expense</i> of such a plan will always prevent its being adopted. It -admits, however, of demonstration, that instead of being dearer, -this plan would be actually cheaper than that which is now followed. -Not more than 1,000,000<i>l.</i> or 1,200,000<i>l.</i> a year would be -required to be added to the navy estimates, and that would not be -a real, but merely a nominal advance. The violence and injustice -to which the practice of impressment exposes sailors operates at -all times to raise their wages, by creating a disinclination on the -part of many young men to enter the sea-service; and this disinclination -is vastly increased during war, when wages usually rise -to four or five times their previous amount, imposing a burden on -the commerce of the country, exclusive of other equally mischievous -consequences, many times greater than the tax that would be -required to keep up the peace establishment of the navy to its -proper level. It is really, therefore, a vulgar error to suppose -that impressment has the recommendation of cheapness in its -favour; and, though it had, no reasonable man will contend that -that is the only, or even the principal, circumstance to be attended -to. In point of fact, however, it is as costly as it is oppressive -and unjust."</p></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_262" id="Page_262">[Pg 262]</a></span></p> - -<p class="i1">These remarks are creditable to the good sense and -humanity of McCulloch; but are too much devoted to -the <i>expediency</i> of outrage. To speak more clearly, the -discussion is conducted in too cool-blooded a style. We -defy any man of ordinary sensibility to read the accounts -of scenes attending many cases of impressment, -without feeling the deepest pity for the enslaved seaman -and his bereaved relatives and friends, and burning -with indignation at the heartless tyranny displayed by -the government. After a long and laborious voyage in -a merchant vessel, the sun-burned seamen arrives in -sight of home. His wife and children, who have long -bewailed his absence and feared for his fate, stand, -with joyous countenances, upon the shore, eager to -embrace the returned wanderer. Perhaps a government -vessel, on the search for seaman, then sends its -barbarous press-gang aboard the merchantman, and -forces the husband and father once more from the presence -of the beloved ones. Or, he is permitted to land. -He visits his home, and is just comfortably settled, resolved -to pass the rest of his days with his family, when -the gang tears him from their arms—and years—long, -dragging years will pass away before he will be allowed -to return. Then, the wife may be dead, the children at -the mercy of the parish. This is English freedom! A -gang of manacled negroes shocks humanity, and calls -down the vengeance of heaven upon the head of the -slave-driver; but a press-gang may perform its heart-rending -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_263" id="Page_263">[Pg 263]</a></span> -work in perfect consistency with the free and -glorious institutions of Britain.</p> - -<p class="i1">By far the most thrilling narrative of the scenes -attending impressments, with which we are acquainted, -is to be found in the romance of "Katie Stewart," published -in Blackwood's Magazine, without the author's -name. We quote:—</p> - -<div class="bq"> - -<p class="i1">"The next day was the Sabbath, and Willie Morison, with his -old mother leaning on his arm, reverently deposited his silver half-crown -in the plate at the door of West Anster Church, an offering -of thankfulness, for the parish poor. There had been various -returns during the previous week; a brig from the Levant, and -another from Riga—where, with its cargo of hemp, it had been -frozen in all the winter—had brought home each their proportion -of welcome family fathers, and young sailor men, like Willie Morison -himself, to glad the eyes of friends and kindred. One of -these was the son of that venerable elder in the lateran, who rose -to read the little notes which the thanksgivers had handed to him -at the door; and Katie Stewart's eyes filled as the old man's slow -voice, somewhat moved by reading his son's name just before, -intimated to the waiting congregation before him, and to the -minister in the pulpit behind, also waiting to include all these in -his concluding prayer, that William Morison gave thanks for his -safe return.</p> - -<p class="i1">"And then there came friendly greetings as the congregation -streamed out through the churchyard, and the soft, hopeful sunshine -of spring threw down a bright flickering network of light -and shade through the soft foliage on the causewayed street;—peaceful -people going to secure and quiet homes—families joyfully -encircling the fathers or brothers for whose return they had -just rendered thanks out of full hearts, and peace upon all and -over all, as broad as the skies and as calm.</p> - -<p class="i1">"But as the stream of people pours again in the afternoon from -the two neighbour churches, what is this gradual excitement which -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_264" id="Page_264">[Pg 264]</a></span> -manifests itself among them? Hark! there is the boom of a gun -plunging into all the echoes; and crowds of mothers and sisters -cling about these young sailors, and almost struggle with them, -to hurry them home. Who is that hastening to the pier, with his -staff clenched in his hand, and his white 'haffit locks' streaming -behind him? It is the reverend elder who to-day returned thanks -for his restored son. The sight of him—the sound of that second-gun -pealing from the Firth puts the climax on the excitement of -the people, and now, in a continuous stream from the peaceful -churchyard gates, they flow toward the pier and the sea.</p> - -<p class="i1">"Eagerly running along by the edge of the rocks, at a pace -which, on another Sabbath, she would have thought a desecration -of the day, clinging to Willie Morison's arm, and with an anxious -heart, feeling her presence a kind of protection to him, Katie -Stewart hastens to the Billy Ness. The gray pier of Anster is -lined with anxious faces, and here and there a levelled telescope -under the care of some old shipmaster attracts round it a still -deeper, still more eager knot of spectators. The tide is out, and -venturous lads are stealing along the sharp low ranges of rock, -slipping now and then with incautious steps into the little clear -pools of sea-water which surround them; for their eyes are not on -their own uncertain footing, but fixed, like the rest, on that visible -danger up the Firth, in which all feel themselves concerned.</p> - -<p class="i1">"Already there are spectators, and another telescope on the -Billy Ness, and the whole range of 'the braes' between Anstruther -and Pittenweem is dotted with anxious lookers-on; and the -far away pier of Pittenweem, too, is dark with its little crowd.</p> - -<p class="i1">"What is the cause! Not far from the shore, just where that -headland, which hides you from the deep indentation of Largo -Bay, juts out upon the Firth, lies a little vessel, looking like a -diminutive Arabian horse, or one of the aristocratic young slight -lads who are its officers, with high blood, training, and courage in -every tight line of its cordage and taper stretch of its masts. -Before it, arrested in its way, lies a helpless merchant brig, softly -swaying on the bright mid-waters of the Firth, with the cutter's -boat rapidly approaching its side.</p> - -<p class="i1">"Another moment and it is boarded; a very short interval of -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_265" id="Page_265">[Pg 265]</a></span> -silence, and again the officer—you can distinguish him with that -telescope, by his cocked hat, and the flash which the scabbard of -his sword throws on the water as he descends the vessel's side—has -re-entered the cutter's boat. Heavily the boat moves through -the water now, crowded with pressed men—poor writhing hearts, -whose hopes of home-coming and peace have been blighted in a -moment; captured, some of them, in sight of their homes, and -under the anxious, straining eyes of wives and children, happily -too far off to discern their full calamity.</p> - -<p class="i1">"A low moan comes from the lips of that poor woman, who, -wringing her hands and rocking herself to and fro, with the unconscious -movement of extreme pain, looks pitifully in Willie -Morison's face, as he fixes the telescope on the scene. She is -reading the changes of its expression, as if her sentence was -there; but he says nothing, though the very motion of his hand, -as he steadies the glass, attracts, like something of occult significance, -the agonized gaze which dwells upon him.</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Captain, captain!' she cried at last, softly pulling his coat, -and with unconscious art using the new title: 'Captain, is't the -Traveller? Can ye make her out? She has a white figure-head -at her bows, and twa white lines round her side. Captain, captain! -tell me for pity's sake!'</p> - -<p class="i1">"Another long keen look was bent on the brig, as slowly and -disconsolately she resumed her onward way.</p> - -<p class="i1">"'No, Peggie,' said the young sailor, looking round to meet her -eye, and to comfort his companion, who stood trembling by his -side: 'No, Peggie—make yourself easy; it's no the Traveller.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"The poor woman seated herself on the grass, and, supporting -her head on her hands, wiped from her pale cheek tears of relief -and thankfulness.</p> - -<p class="i1">"'God be thanked! and oh! God pity thae puir creatures, and -their wives, and their little anes. I think I have the hardest -heart in a' the world, that can be glad when there's such misery -in sight.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"But dry your tears, poor Peggie Rodger—brace up your -trembling heart again for another fiery trial; for here comes -another white sail peacefully gliding up the Firth, with a flag -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_266" id="Page_266">[Pg 266]</a></span> -fluttering from the stern, and a white figure-head dashing aside -the spray, which seems to embrace it joyfully, the sailors think, -as out of the stormy seas it nears the welcome home. With a -light step the captain walks the little quarter-deck—with light -hearts the seamen lounge amidship, looking forth on the green -hills of Fife. Dark grows the young sailor's face, as he watches -the unsuspicious victim glide triumphantly up through the blue -water into the undreaded snare; and a glance round, a slight -contraction of those lines in his face which Katie Stewart, eagerly -watching him, has never seen so strongly marked before, tells the -poor wife on the grass enough to make her rise hysterically strong, -and with her whole might gaze at the advancing ship; for, alas! -one can doubt its identity no longer. The white lines on its side—the -white figure-head among the joyous spray—and the Traveller -dashes on, out of its icy prison in the northern harbour—out of -its stormy ocean voyage—homeward bound!</p> - -<p class="i1">"Homeward bound! There is one yonder turning longing looks -to Anster's quiet harbour as the ship sails past; carefully putting -up in the coloured foreign baskets those little wooden toys which -amused his leisure during the long dark winter among the ice, -and thinking with involuntary smiles how his little ones will leap -for joy as he divides the store. Put them up, good seaman, gentle -father!—the little ones will be men and women before you look -on them again.</p> - -<p class="i1">"For already the echoes are startled, and the women here on -shore shiver and wring their hands as the cutter's gun rings out -its mandate to the passenger; and looking up the Firth you see -nothing but a floating globe of white smoke, slowly breaking into -long streamers, and almost entirely concealing the fine outline of -the little ship of war. The challenged brig at first is doubtful—the -alarmed captain does not understand the summons; but again -another flash, another report, another cloud of white smoke, and -the Traveller is brought to.</p> - -<p class="i1">"There are no tears on Peggie Rodger's haggard cheeks, but a -convulsive shudder passes over her now and then, as, with intense -strained eyes, she watches the cutter's boat as it crosses the Firth -toward the arrested brig.</p></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_267" id="Page_267">[Pg 267]</a></span></p> - -<div class="bq"> - -<p class="i1">"'God! an' it were sunk like lead!' said a passionate voice -beside her, trembling with the desperate restraint of impotent -strength.</p> - -<p class="i1">"'God help us!—God help us!—curse na them,' said the poor -woman with an hysteric sob. 'Oh, captain, captain! gie <i>me</i> the -glass; if they pit him in the boat <i>I'll</i> ken Davie—if naebody else -would, I can—gie me the glass.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"He gave her the glass, and himself gladly turned away, -trembling with the same suppressed rage and indignation which -had dictated the other spectator's curse.</p> - -<p class="i1">"'If ane could but warn them wi' a word,' groaned Willie Morison, -grinding his teeth—'if ane could but lift a finger! but to see -them gang into the snare like innocents in the broad day—Katie, -it's enough to pit a man mad!'</p> - -<p class="i1">"But Katie's pitiful compassionate eyes were fixed on Peggie -Rodger—on her white hollow cheeks, and on the convulsive steadiness -with which she held the telescope in her hand.</p> - -<p class="i1">"'It's a fair wind into the Firth—there's another brig due. -Katie, I canna stand and see this mair!'</p> - -<p class="i1">"He drew her hand through his arm, and unconsciously grasping -it with a force which at another time would have made her -cry with pain, led her a little way back toward the town. But -the fascination of the scene was too great for him, painful as it -was, and far away on the horizon glimmered another sail.</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Willie!' exclaimed Katie Stewart, 'gar some of the Sillardyke -men gang out wi' a boat—gar them row down by the coast, -and then strike out in the Firth, and warn the men.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"He grasped her hand again, not so violently. 'Bless you, -lassie! and wha should do your bidding but myself? but take -care of yourself, Katie Stewart. What care I for a' the brigs in -the world if any thing ails you? Gang hame, or'——</p> - -<p class="i1">"'I'll no stir a fit till you're safe back again. I'll never speak -to you mair if ye say anither word. Be canny—be canny—but -haste ye away.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"Another moment, and Katie Stewart stands alone by Peggie -Rodger's side, watching the eager face which seems to grow old -and emaciated with this terrible vigil, as if these moments were -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_268" id="Page_268">[Pg 268]</a></span> -years; while the ground flies under the hounding feet of Willie -Morison, and he answers the questions which are addressed to -him, as to his errand, only while he himself continues at full -speed to push eastward to Cellardyke.</p> - -<p class="i1">"And the indistinct words which he calls back to his comrades, -as he 'devours the way,' are enough to send racing after him an -eager train of coadjutors; and with his bonnet off, and his hands, -which tremble as with palsy, clasped convulsively together, the -white-haired elder leans upon the wall of the pier, and bids God -bless them, God speed them, with a broken voice, whose utterance -comes in gasps and sobs; for he has yet another son upon the sea.</p> - -<p class="i1">"Meanwhile the cutter's boat has returned from the Traveller -with its second load; and a kind bystander relieves the aching -arms of poor Peggie Rodger of the telescope, in which now she -has no further interest.</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Gude kens, Gude kens,' said the poor woman slowly, as Katie -strove to comfort her. 'I didna see him in the boat; but ane -could see nothing but the wet oars flashing out of the water, and -blinding folks e'en. What am I to do? Miss Katie, what am I -to think? They maun have left some men in the ship to work -her. Oh! God grant they have ta'en the young men, and no heads -of families wi' bairns to toil for. But Davie's a buirdly man, just -like ane to take an officer's ee. Oh, the Lord help us! for I'm -just distraught, and kenna what to do.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"A faint cheer, instantly suppressed, rises from the point of -the pier and the shelving coast beyond; and yonder now it glides -along the shore, with wet oars gleaming out of the dazzling sunny -water, the boat of the forlorn hope. A small, picked, chosen company -bend to the oars, and Willie Morison is at the helm, warily -guiding the little vessel over the rocks, as they shelter themselves -in the shadow of the coast. On the horizon the coming sail flutters -nearer, nearer—and up the Firth yonder there is a stir in the -cutter as she prepares to leave her anchor and strike into the mid-waters -of the broad highway which she molests.</p> - -<p class="i1">"The sun is sinking lower in the grand western skies, and beginning -to cast long, cool, dewy shadows of every headland and -little promontory over the whole rocky coast; but still the Firth is -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_269" id="Page_269">[Pg 269]</a></span> -burning with his slanting fervid rays, and Inchkeith far away -lies like a cloud upon the sea, and the May, near at hand, lifts its -white front to the sun—a Sabbath night as calm and full of rest -as ever natural Sabbath was—and the reverend elder yonder on -the pier uncovers his white head once more, and groans within -himself, amid his passionate prayers for these perilled men upon -the sea, over the desecrated Sabbath-day.</p> - -<p class="i1">"Nearer and nearer wears the sail, fluttering like the snowy -breast of some sea-bird in prophetic terror; and now far off the red -fishing-boat strikes boldly forth into the Firth with a signal-flag -at its prow.</p> - -<p class="i1">"In the cutter they perceive it now; and see how the anchor -swings up her shapely side, and the snowy sail curls over the -yards, as with a bound she darts forth from her lurking-place, -and flashing in the sunshine, like an eager hound leaps forth after -her prey.</p> - -<p class="i1">"The boat—the boat! With every gleam of its oars the hearts -throb that watch it on its way; with every bound it makes there -are prayers—prayers of the anguish which will take no discouragement—pressing -in at the gates of heaven; and the ebbing tide -bears it out, and the wind droops its wings, and falls becalmed -upon the coast, as if repenting it of the evil service it did to those -two hapless vessels which have fallen into the snare. Bravely on -as the sun grows lower—bravely out as the fluttering stranger -sail draws nearer and more near—and but one other strain will -bring them within hail.</p> - -<p class="i1">"But as all eyes follow these adventurers, another flash from -the cutter's side glares over the shining water; and as the smoke -rolls over the pursuing vessel, and the loud report again disturbs -all the hills, Katie's heart grows sick, and she scarcely dares look -to the east. But the ball has ploughed the water harmlessly, and -yonder is the boat of rescue—yonder is the ship within hail; and -some one stands up in the prow of the forlorn hope, and shouts -and waves his hand.</p> - -<p class="i1">"It is enough. 'There she goes—there she tacks!' cries exulting -the man with the telescope, 'and in half an hour she'll be -safe in St. Andrew's Bay.'</p></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_270" id="Page_270">[Pg 270]</a></span></p> - -<div class="bq"> - -<p class="i1">"But she sails slowly back—and slowly sails the impatient -cutter, with little wind to swell her sails, and that little in her -face; while the fisherboat, again falling close inshore with a -relay of fresh men at the oars, has the advantage of them both.</p> - -<p class="i1">"And now there is a hot pursuit—the cutter's boat in full chase -after the forlorn hope; but as the sun disappears, and the long -shadows lengthen and creep along the creeks and bays of the -rocky coast so well known to the pursued, so ill to the pursuer, -the event of the race is soon decided; and clambering up the first -accessible landing-place they can gain, and leaving their boat on -the rocks behind them, the forlorn hope joyously make their way -home.</p> - -<p class="i1">"'And it's a' Katie's notion and no a morsel of mine,' says the -proud Willie Morison. But alas for your stout heart, Willie!—alas -for the tremulous, startled bird which beats against the innocent -breast of little Katie Stewart, for no one knows what heavy -shadows shall vail the ending of this Sabbath-day.</p> - -<hr class="sect" /> - -<p class="i1">"The mild spring night has darkened, but it is still early, and -the moon is not yet up. The worship is over in John Stewart's -decent house, and all is still within, though the miller and his -wife still sit by the 'gathered' fire, and talk in half whispers about -the events of the day, and the prospects of 'the bairns.' It is -scarcely nine yet, but it is the reverent usage of the family to -shut out the world earlier than usual on the Sabbath; and Katie, -in consideration of her fatigue, has been dismissed to her little -chamber in the roof. She has gone away not unwillingly, for, -just before, the miller had closed the door on the slow, reluctant, -departing steps of Willie Morison, and Katie is fain to be alone.</p> - -<p class="i1">"Very small is this chamber in the roof of the Milton, which -Janet and Katie used to share. She has set down her candle on -the little table before that small glass in the dark carved frame, -and herself stands by the window, which she has opened, looking -out. The rush of the burn fills the soft air with sound, into which -sometimes penetrates a far-off voice, which proclaims the little -town still awake and stirring: but save the light from Robert -Moulter's uncurtained window—revealing a dark gleaming link -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_271" id="Page_271">[Pg 271]</a></span> -of the burn, before the cot-house door—and the reddened sky -yonder, reflecting that fierce torch on the May, there is nothing -visible but the dark line of fields, and a few faint stars in the -clouded sky.</p> - -<p class="i1">"But the houses in Anster are not yet closed or silent. In the -street which leads past the town-house and church of West Anster -to the shore, you can see a ruddy light streaming out from the -window upon the causeway, the dark churchyard wall, and over-hanging -trees. At the fire stands a comely young woman, lifting -'a kettle of potatoes' from the crook. The 'kettle' is a capacious -pot on three feet, formed not like the ordinary 'kail-pat,' but like -a little tub of iron; and now, as it is set down before the ruddy -fire, you see it is full of laughing potatoes, disclosing themselves, -snow-white and mealy, through the cracks in their clear dark -coats. The mother of the household sits by the fireside, with a -volume of sermons in her hand; but she is paying but little attention -to the book, for the kitchen is full of young sailors, eagerly -discussing the events of the day, and through the hospitable open -door others are entering and departing with friendly salutations. -Another such animated company fills the house of the widow Morison, -'aest the town,' for still the afternoon's excitement has not -subsided.</p> - -<p class="i1">"But up this dark leaf-shadowed street, in which we stand, -there comes a muffled tramp as of stealthy footsteps. They hear -nothing of it in that bright warm kitchen—fear nothing, as they -gather round the fire, and sometimes rise so loud in their conversation -that the house-mother lifts her hand, and shakes her head, -with an admonitory, 'Whist bairns; mind, it's the Sabbath-day.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"Behind backs, leaning against the sparkling panes of the window, -young Robert Davidson speaks aside to Lizzie Tosh, the -daughter of the house. They were 'cried' to-day in West Anster -kirk, and soon will have a blithe bridal—'If naething comes in -the way,' says Lizzie, with her downcast face; and the manly -young sailor answers—'Nae fear.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Nae fear!' But without, the stealthy steps come nearer; -and if you draw far enough away from the open door to lose the -merry voices, and have your eyes no longer dazzled with the light, -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_272" id="Page_272">[Pg 272]</a></span> -you will see dim figures creeping through the darkness, and feel -that the air is heavy with the breath of men. But few people -care to use that dark road between the manse and the churchyard -at night, so no one challenges the advancing party, or gives the -alarm.</p> - -<p class="i1">"Lizzie Tosh has stolen to the door; it is to see if the moon is -up, and if Robert will have light on his homeward walk to Pittenweem; -but immediately she rushes in again, with a face as pale -as it had before been blooming, and alarms the assembly. 'A -band of the cutter's men;—an officer, with a sword at his side. -Rin, lads, rin, afore they reach the door.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"But there is a keen, eager face, with a cocked hat surmounting -it, already looking in at the window. The assembled sailors -make a wild plunge at the door; and, while a few escape under -cover of the darkness, the cutter's men have secured, after a desperate -resistance, three or four of the foremost. Poor fellows! -You see them stand without, young Robert Davidson in the front, -his broad, bronzed forehead bleeding from a cut he has received -in the scuffle, and one of his captors, still more visibly wounded, -looking on him with evil, revengeful eyes: his own eye, poor lad, -is flaming with fierce indignation and rage, and his broad breast -heaves almost convulsively. But now he catches a glimpse of the -weeping Lizzie, and fiery tears, which scorch his eyelids, blind -him for a moment, and his heart swells as if it would burst. But -it does not burst, poor desperate heart! until the appointed bullet -shall come, a year or two hence, to make its pulses quiet for -ever.</p> - -<p class="i1">"A few of the gang entered the house. It is only 'a but and a -ben;' and Lizzie stands with her back against the door of the -inner apartment, while her streaming eyes now and then cast a -sick, yearning glance toward the prisoners at the door—for her -brother stands there as well as her betrothed.</p> - -<p class="i1">"'What for would you seek in there?' asked the mother, lifting -up her trembling hands. 'What would ye despoil my chaumer -for, after ye've made my hearthstane desolate. If ye've a -license to steal men, ye've nane to steal gear. Ye've dune your -warst: gang out o' my house ye thieves, ye locusts, ye'——</p></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_273" id="Page_273">[Pg 273]</a></span></p> - -<div class="bq"> - -<p class="i1">"'We'll see about that, old lady,' said the leader:—'put the -girl away from that door. Tom, bring the lantern.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"The little humble room was neatly arranged. It was their -best, and they had not spared upon it what ornament they could -attain. Shells far travelled, precious for the giver's sake, and -many other heterogeneous trifles, such as sailors pick up in foreign -parts, were arranged upon the little mantel-piece and grate. -There was no nook or corner in it which could possibly be used -for a hiding-place; but the experienced eye of the foremost man -saw the homely counterpane disordered on the bed; and there -indeed the mother had hid her youngest, dearest son. She had -scarcely a minute's time to drag him in, to prevail upon him to -let her conceal him under her feather-bed, and all its comfortable -coverings. But the mother's pains were unavailing, and now -she stood by, and looked on with a suppressed scream, while that -heavy blow struck down her boy as he struggled—her youngest, -fair-haired, hopeful boy.</p> - -<p class="i1">"Calm thoughts are in your heart, Katie Stewart—dreams of -sailing over silver seas under that moon which begins to rise, -slowly climbing through the clouds yonder, on the south side of -the Firth. In fancy, already, you watch the soft Mediterranean -waves rippling past the side of the Flower of Fife, and see the -strange beautiful countries of which your bridegroom has told -you shining under the brilliant southern sun. And then the -home-coming—the curious toys you will gather yonder for the -sisters and the mother; the pride you will have in telling them -how Willie has cared for your voyage—how wisely he rules the -one Flower of Fife, how tenderly he guards the other.</p> - -<p class="i1">"Your heart is touched, Katie Stewart, touched with the calm -and pathos of great joy; and tears lie under your eyelashes, like -the dew on flowers. Clasp your white hands on the sill of the -window—heed not that your knees are unbended—and say your -child's prayers with lips which move but utter nothing audible, -and with your head bowed on the moonbeam, which steals into -your window like a bird. True, you have said these child's -prayers many a night, as in some sort a charm, to guard you as -you slept; but now there comes upon your spirit an awe of the -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_274" id="Page_274">[Pg 274]</a></span> -great Father yonder, a dim and wonderful apprehension of the -mysterious Son in whose name you make those prayers. Is it -true, then, that he thinks of all our loves and sorrows, this One, -whose visible form realizes to us the dim, grand, glorious heaven—knows -us by name—remembers us with the God's love in his -wonderful human heart;—<i>us</i>, scattered by myriads over his earth, -like the motes in the sunbeam? And the tears steal over your -cheeks, as you end the child's prayer with the name that is above -all names.</p> - -<p class="i1">"Now, will you rest? But the moon has mastered all her hilly -way of clouds, and from the full sky looks down on you, Katie, -with eyes of pensive blessedness like your own. Tarry a little—linger -to watch that one bright spot on the Firth, where you could -almost count the silvered waves as they lie beneath the light.</p> - -<p class="i1">"But a rude sound breaks upon the stillness—a sound of flying -feet echoing over the quiet road; and now they become visible—one -figure in advance, and a band of pursuers behind—the same -brave heart which spent its strength to-day to warn the unconscious -ship—the same strong form which Katie has seen in her -dreams on the quarter-deck of the Flower of Fife;—but he will -never reach that quarter-deck, Katie Stewart, for his strength -flags, and they gain upon him.</p> - -<p class="i1">"Gain upon him, step by step, unpitying bloodhounds!—see -him lift up his hands to you, at your window, and have no ruth -for his young hope, or yours;—and now their hands are on his -shoulder, and he is in their power.</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Katie!' cries the hoarse voice of Willie Morison, breaking -the strange fascination in which she stood, 'come down and speak -to me ae word, if ye wouldna break my heart. Man—if ye are a -man—let me bide a minute; let me say a word to her. I'll maybe -never see her in this world again.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"The miller stood at the open door—the mother within was -wiping the tears from her cheeks. 'Oh Katie, bairn, that ye had -been sleeping!' But Katie rushed past them, and crossed the -burn.</p> - -<p class="i1">"What can they say?—only convulsively grasp each other's -hands—wofully look into each other's faces, ghastly in the moonlight; -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_275" id="Page_275">[Pg 275]</a></span> -till Willie—Willie, who could have carried her like a child, -in his strength of manhood—bowed down his head into those -little hands of hers which are lost in his own vehement grasp, -and hides with them his passionate tears.</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Willie, I'll never forget ye,' says aloud the instinctive impulse -of little Katie's heart, forgetting for the moment that there -is any grief in the world but to see his. 'Night and day I'll -mind ye, think of ye. If ye were twenty years away, I would be -blither to wait for ye, than to be a queen. Willie, if ye must go, -go with a stout heart—for I'll never forget ye, if it should be -twenty years!'</p> - -<p class="i1">"Twenty years! Only eighteen have you been in the world -yet, brave little Katie Stewart; and you know not the years, how -they drag their drooping skirts over the hills when hearts long -for their ending, or how it is only day by day, hour by hour, that -they wear out at length, and fade into the past.</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Now, my man, let's have no more of this,' said the leader of -the gang. 'I'm not here to wait your leisure; come on.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"And now they are away—truly away—and the darkness settles -down where this moment Katie saw her bridegroom's head bowing -over the hands which still are wet with his tears. Twenty -years! Her own words ring into her heart like a knell, a prophecy -of evil—if he should be twenty years away!"</p></div> - -<p class="i1">There is no exaggeration in the above narrative. -Similar scenes have occurred on many occasions, and -others of equally affecting character might be gathered -from British sailors themselves. In the story of "Katie -Stewart," ten years elapse before Willie Morison is -permitted to return to his betrothed. In many cases -the pressed seamen never catch a glimpse of home or -friends again. Sometimes decoys and stratagems are -used to press the seamen into the service of the government. -Such extensive powers are intrusted to the -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_276" id="Page_276">[Pg 276]</a></span> -officers of men-of-war, that they may be guilty of -the grossest violations of right and justice with impunity, -and even those "protections" which the government -extends to certain persons, are frequently of no -effect whatever. In the novel of "Jacob Faithful," -Captain Marryatt has given a fine illustration of the -practice of some officers. The impressment of Jacob -and Thomas the waterman, is told with Marryatt's -usual spirit. Here it is:—</p> - -<div class="bq"> - -<p class="i1">"'I say, you watermen, have you a mind for a good fare?' cried -a dark-looking, not over clean, square built, short young man -standing on the top of the flight of steps.</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Where to, sir?'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Gravesend, my jokers, if you a'n't afraid of salt water.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'That's a long way, sir!' replied Tom, 'and for salt water we -must have salt to our porridge.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'So you shall, my lads, and a glass of grog into the bargain.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Yes, but the bargain a'n't made yet, sir. Jacob, will you go?'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Yes, but not under a guinea.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Not under two guineas,' replied Tom, aside.</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Are you in a great hurry, sir?' continued he, addressing the -young man.</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Yes, in a devil of a hurry; I shall lose my ship. What will -you take me for?'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Two guineas, sir.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Very well. Just come up to the public-house here, and put -in my traps.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"We had brought down his luggage, put it into the wherry and -started down the river with the tide. Our fare was very communicative, -and we found out that he was master's mate of the Immortalité, -forty-gun frigate, lying off Gravesend, which was to -drop down the next morning, and wait for sailing orders at the -Downs. We carried the tide with us, and in the afternoon were -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_277" id="Page_277">[Pg 277]</a></span> -close to the frigate, whose blue ensign waved proudly over the -taffrail. There was a considerable sea arising from the wind -meeting the tide, and before we arrived close to her, we had -shipped a great deal of water; and when we were alongside, the -wherry, with the chest in her bows, pitched so heavily, that we were -afraid of being swamped. Just as a rope had been made fast to -the chest, and they were weighing it out of the wherry, the ship's -launch with water came alongside, and whether from accident or -wilfully I know not, although I suspect the latter, the midshipman -who steered her, shot her against the wherry, which was -crushed in, and immediately filled, leaving Tom and me in the -water, and in danger of being jammed to death between the -launch and the side of the frigate. The seamen in the boat, -however, forced her off with their oars, and hauled us in, while -our wherry sank with her gunnel even with the water's edge, and -floated away astern.</p> - -<p class="i1">"As soon as we had shaken ourselves a little, we went up the side -and asked one of the officers to send a boat to pick up our wherry.</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Speak to the first lieutenant—there he is,' was the reply.</p> - -<p class="i1">"I went up to the person pointed out to me: 'If you please -sir'——</p> - -<p class="i1">"'What the devil do you want?'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'A boat, sir, to'——</p> - -<p class="i1">"'A boat! the devil you do!'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'To pick up our wherry, sir,' interrupted Tom.</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Pick it up yourself,' said the first lieutenant, passing us and -hailing the men aloft. 'Maintop there, hook on your stay. Be -smart. Lower away the yards. Marines and afterguard, clear -launch. Boatswain's-mate.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Here, sir.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Pipe marines and afterguard to clear launch.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Ay, ay, sir.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'But we shall lose our boat, Jacob,' said Tom, to me. 'They -stove it in, and they ought to pick it up.' Tom then went up to -the master's-mate, whom we had brought on board, and explained -our difficulty.</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Upon my soul, I dar'n't say a word. I'm in a scrape for -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_278" id="Page_278">[Pg 278]</a></span> -breaking my leave. Why the devil didn't you take care of your -wherry, and haul ahead when you saw the launch coming.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'How could we when the chest was hoisting out?'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Very true. Well, I'm very sorry for you, but I must look -after my chest.' So saying, he disappeared down the gangway -ladder.</p> - -<p class="i1">"'I'll try it again, any how,' said Tom, going up to the first -lieutenant. 'Hard case to lose our boat and our bread, sir,' said -Tom, touching his hat.</p> - -<p class="i1">"The first lieutenant, now that the marines and afterguard -were at a regular stamp and go, had, unfortunately, more leisure -to attend to us. He looked at us earnestly, and walked aft to -see if the wherry was yet in sight. At that moment up came the -master's-mate who had not yet reported himself to the first lieutenant.</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Tom,' said I, 'there's a wherry close to; let us get into it, -and go after our boat ourselves.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Wait one moment to see if they will help us—and get our -money, at all events,' replied Tom; and we walked aft.</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Come on board, sir,' said the master's mate, touching his -hat with humility.</p> - -<p class="i1">"'You've broke your leave, sir,' replied the first lieutenant, -'and now I've to send a boat to pick up the wherry through your -carelessness.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'If you please, they are two very fine young men,' observed -the mate. 'Make capital foretop-men. Boat's not worth sending -for, sir.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"This hint, given by the mate to the first lieutenant, to regain -his favour, was not lost. 'Who are you, my lads?' said the first -lieutenant to us.</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Watermen, sir.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Watermen, hey! was that your own boat?'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'No, sir,' replied I, 'it belonged to the man that I serve with.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Oh! not your own boat? Are you an apprentice then?'</p> - -<p class="i1">"Yes, sir, both apprentices.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Show me your indentures.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'We don't carry them about with us.'</p></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_279" id="Page_279">[Pg 279]</a></span></p> - -<div class="bq"> - -<p class="i1">"'Then how am I to know that you are apprentices?'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'We can prove it, sir, if you wish it.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'I do wish it; at all events, the captain will wish it.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Will you please to send for the boat, sir? she's almost out -of sight.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'No, my lads, I can't find king's boats for such service.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Then, we had better go ourselves, Tom,' said I, and we went -forward to call the waterman who was lying on his oars close to -the frigate.</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Stop—stop—not so fast. Where are you going, my lads?'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'To pick up our boat, sir.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Without my leave, hey!'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'We don't belong to the frigate, sir.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'No; but I think it very likely that you will, for you have -no protections.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'We can send for them and have them down by to-morrow -morning.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Well, you may do so, if you please, my lads; you cannot -expect me to believe every thing that is told me. Now, for instance, -how long have you to serve, my lad?' said he, addressing -Tom.</p> - -<p class="i1">"'My time is up to-morrow, sir.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Up to-morrow. Why, then, I shall detain you until to-morrow, -and then I shall press you.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'If you detain me now, sir, I am pressed to-day.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Oh no! you are only detained until you prove your apprenticeship, -that's all.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Nay, sir, I certainly am pressed during my apprenticeship.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Not at all, and I'll prove it to you. You don't belong to the -ship until you are victualled on her books. Now, I shan't <i>victual</i> -you to-day, and therefore, you won't be <i>pressed</i>.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'I shall be pressed with hunger, at all events,' replied Tom, -who never could lose a joke.</p> - -<p class="i1">"'No, you shan't; for I'll send you both a good dinner out of -the gun-room, so you won't be pressed at all,' replied the lieutenant, -laughing at Tom's reply.</p> - -<p class="i1">"You will allow me to go, sir, at all events,' replied I; 'for I -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_280" id="Page_280">[Pg 280]</a></span> -knew that the only chance of getting Tom and myself clear was -by hastening to Mr. Drummond for assistance.</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Pooh! nonsense; you must both row in the same boat as -you have done. The fact is, my lads, I've taken a great fancy to -you both, and I can't make up my mind to part with you.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'It's hard to lose our bread, this way,' replied I.</p> - -<p class="i1">"'We will find you bread, and hard enough you will find it,' -replied the lieutenant, laughing; 'it's like a flint.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'So we ask for bread, and you give us a stone,' said Tom; -'that's 'gainst Scripture.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Very true, my lad; but the fact is, all the scriptures in the -world won't man the frigate. Men we must have, and get them -how we can, and where we can, and when we can. Necessity has -no law; at least it obliges us to break through all laws. After all, -there's no great hardship in serving the king for a year or two, and -filling your pockets with prize-money. Suppose you volunteer?'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Will you allow us to go on shore for half an hour to think -about it?' replied I.</p> - -<p class="i1">"'No; I'm afraid of the crimps dissuading you. But, I'll give -you till to-morrow morning, and then I shall be sure of one, at -all events.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Thanky, for me,' replied Tom.</p> - -<p class="i1">"'You're very welcome,' replied the first lieutenant, as, laughing -at us, he went down the companion ladder to his dinner.</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Well, Jacob, we are in for it,' said Tom, as soon as we were -alone. 'Depend upon it, there's no mistake this time.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'I'm afraid not,' replied I, 'unless we can get a letter to your -father, or Mr. Drummond, who, I am sure, would help us. But -that dirty fellow, who gave the first lieutenant the hint, said the -frigate sailed to-morrow morning; there he is, let us speak to -him.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'When does the frigate sail?' said Tom to the master's-mate, -who was walking the deck.</p> - -<p class="i1">"'My good fellow, it's not the custom on board of a man-of-war -for men to ask officers to answer such impertinent questions. -It's quite sufficient for you to know that when the frigate sails, -you will have the honour of sailing in her.'</p></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_281" id="Page_281">[Pg 281]</a></span></p> - -<div class="bq"> - -<p class="i1">"'Well, sir,' replied I, nettled at his answer, 'at all events, -you will have the goodness to pay us our fare. We have lost our -wherry, and our liberty, perhaps, through you; we may as well -have our two guineas.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Two guineas! It's two guineas you want, heh?'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Yes, sir, that was the fare agreed upon.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Why, you must observe, my men,' said the master's-mate, -hooking a thumb into each arm-hole of his waistcoat, 'there must -be a little explanation as to that affair. I promised you two -guineas as watermen; but now that you belong to a man-of-war, -you are no longer watermen. I always pay my debts honourably -when I can find the lawful creditors; but where are the watermen?'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Here we are, sir.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'No, my lads, you are men-of-war's men now, and that quite -alters the case."</p> - -<p class="i1">"'But we are not so yet, sir: even if it did alter the case, we -are not pressed yet.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Well, then, you will be to-morrow, perhaps; at all events -we shall see. If you are allowed to go on shore again, I owe -you two guineas as watermen; and if you are detained as men-of-war's -men, why then you will only have done your duty in pulling -down one of your officers. You see, my lads, I say nothing -but what's fair.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Well, sir, but when you hired us, we were watermen,' replied -Tom.</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Very true, so you were; but recollect the two guineas were -not due until you had completed your task, which was not until -you came on board. When you came on board you were pressed -and became men-of-war's men. You should have asked for your -fare before the first lieutenant got hold of you. Don't you perceive -the justice of my remarks?'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Can't say I do, sir; but I perceive that there is very little -chance of our being paid,' said Tom.</p> - -<p class="i1">"'You are a lad of discrimination,' replied the master's-mate; -'and now I advise you to drop the subject, or you may induce -me to pay you man-of-war fashion.'</p></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_282" id="Page_282">[Pg 282]</a></span></p> - -<div class="bq"> - -<p class="i1">"'How's that, sir?'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Over the face and eyes, as the cat paid the monkey,' replied -the master's-mate, walking leisurely away.</p> - -<p class="i1">"No go, Tom,' said I, smiling at the absurdity of the arguments.</p> - -<p class="i1">"'I'm afraid it's <i>no go</i>, in every way, Jacob. However, I don't -care much about it. I have had a little hankering after seeing -the world, and perhaps now's as well as any other time; but I'm -sorry for you, Jacob.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'It's all my own fault,' replied I; and I fell into one of those -reveries so often indulged in of late as to the folly of my conduct -in asserting my independence, which had now ended in my losing -my liberty. But we were cold from the ducking we had received, -and moreover very hungry. The first lieutenant did not forget -his promise: he sent us up a good dinner, and a glass of grog -each, which we discussed under the half-deck between two of the -guns. We had some money in our pockets, and we purchased -some sheets of paper from the bumboat people, who were on the -main-deck supplying the seamen; and I wrote to Mr. Drummond -and Mr. Turnbull, as well as to Mary and old Tom, requesting -the two latter to forward our clothes to Deal, in case of our being -detained. Tom also wrote to comfort his mother, and the greatest -comfort he could give was, as he said, to promise to keep -sober. Having intrusted these letters to the bumboat women, -who promised faithfully to put them into the post-office, we had -then nothing else to do but to look out for some place to sleep. -Our clothes had dried on us, and we were walking under the half-deck, -but not a soul spoke to, or even took the least notice of us. -In a newly manned ship, just ready to sail, there is a universal -feeling of selfishness prevailing among the ship's company. Some, -if not most, had, like us, been pressed, and their thoughts were -occupied with their situation, and the change in their prospects. -Others were busy making their little arrangements with their -wives or relations; while the mass of the seamen, not yet organized -by discipline, or known to each other, were in a state of dis-union -and individuality, which naturally induced every man to -look after himself, without caring for his neighbour. We therefore -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_283" id="Page_283">[Pg 283]</a></span> -could not expect, nor did we receive any sympathy; we were -in a scene of bustle and noise, yet alone. A spare topsail, which -had been stowed for the present between two of the guns, was -the best accommodation which offered itself. We took possession -of it, and, tired with exertion of mind and body, were soon fast -asleep."</p></div> - -<p class="i1">In the mean time, doubtless, there was weeping and -wailing at the homes of the pressed seamen. Parents, -tottering on the verge of the grave, and deprived of -their natural support—wives and children at the fireside -uncheered by the presence of the head of the -family—could only weep for the absent ones, and pray -that their government might one day cease to be tyrannical.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_284" id="Page_284">[Pg 284]</a></span></p> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VII" id="CHAPTER_VII"></a>CHAPTER VII.</h2> -</div> - -<p class="ac">IRISH SLAVERY.</p> - - -<p class="i1"><span class="sc">For</span> centuries the Irish nation has groaned under -the yoke of England. The chain has worn to the -bone. The nation has felt its strength depart. Many -of its noblest and fairest children have pined away in -dungeons or starved by the roadside. The tillers of -the soil, sweating from sunrise to sunset for a bare -subsistence, have been turned from their miserable -cabins—hovels, yet homes—and those who have been -allowed to remain have had their substance devoured -by a government seemingly never satisfied with the -extent of its taxation. They have suffered unmitigated -persecution for daring to have a religion of their own. -Seldom has a conquered people suffered more from the -cruelties and exactions of the conquerors. While -Clarkson and Wilberforce were giving their untiring -labours to the cause of emancipating negro slaves -thousands of miles away, they overlooked a hideous -system of slavery at their very doors—the slavery of a -people capable of enjoying the highest degree of civil -and religious freedom. Says William Howitt—</p> - -<div class="figcenter"><a name="i_284.jpg" id="i_284.jpg"></a> - <img src="images/i_284.jpg" - alt="" /> - <div class="caption">IRISH TENANT ABOUT TO EMIGRATE.</div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_285" id="Page_285">[Pg 285]</a></span></p> - -<div class="bq"> - -<p class="i1">"The great grievance of Ireland—the Monster Grievance—is -just England itself. The curse of Ireland is bad government, -and nothing more. And who is the cause of this? Nobody but -England. Who made Ireland a conquered country? England. -Who introduced all the elements of wrangling, discontent, and -injustice? England. Who set two hostile churches, and two -hostile races, Celts and Saxons, together by the ears in that country? -England, of course. Her massacres, her military plantations, -her violent seizure of ancient estates, her favouritism, her -monstrous laws and modes of government, were the modern -emptying of Pandora's box—the shaking out of a bag-full of -Kilkenny cats on the soil of that devoted country. The consequences -are exactly those that we have before us. Wretched -Saxon landlords, who have left one-fourth of the country uncultivated, -and squeezed the population to death by extortion on the -rest. A great useless church maintained on the property of the -ejected Catholics—who do as men are sure to do, kick at robbery, -and feel it daily making their gall doubly bitter. And then we -shake our heads and sagely talk about race. If the race be bad, -why have we not taken pains to improve it? Why, for scores of -years, did we forbid them even to be educated? Why do we -complain of their being idle and improvident, and helpless, when -we have done every thing we could to make them so? Are our -ministers and Parliaments any better? Are they not just as idle, -and improvident, and helpless, as it regards Ireland? Has not -this evil been growing these three hundred years? Have any -remedies been applied but those of Elizabeth, and the Stuarts -and Straffords, the Cromwells, and Dutch William's? Arms and -extermination? We have built barracks instead of schools; we -have sown gunpowder instead of corn—and now we wonder at -the people and the crops. The wisest and best of men have for -ages been crying out for reform and improvement in Ireland, -and all that we have done has been to augment the army and the -police."</p></div> - -<p class="i1">The condition of the Irish peasantry has long been -most miserable. Untiring toil for the lords of the soil -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_286" id="Page_286">[Pg 286]</a></span> -gives the labourers only such a living as an American -slave would despise. Hovels fit for pig-styes—rags -for clothing—potatoes for food—are the fruits of the -labour of these poor wretches. A vast majority of -them are attached to the Roman Catholic Church, yet -they are compelled to pay a heavy tax for the support -of the Established Church. This, and other exactions, -eat up their little substance, and prevent them from -acquiring any considerable property. Their poor -homes are merely held by the sufferance of grasping -agents for landlords, and they are compelled to submit -to any terms he may prescribe or become wandering -beggars, which alternative is more terrible to many of -them than the whip would be.</p> - -<p class="i1">O'Connell, the indomitable advocate of his oppressed -countrymen, used the following language in his repeal -declaration of July 27, 1841:—</p> - -<div class="bq"> - -<p class="i1">"It ought to sink deep into the minds of the English aristocracy, -that no people on the face of the earth pay to another such a -tribute for permission to live, as Ireland pays to England in -absentee rents and surplus revenues. There is no such instance; -there is nothing like it in ancient or modern history. There is -not, and there never was, such an exhausting process applied to -any country as is thus applied to Ireland. It is a solecism in -political economy, inflicted upon Ireland alone, of all the nations -that are or ever were."</p></div> - -<p class="i1">Surely it is slavery to pay such a price for a miserable -existence. We cannot so abuse terms as to call a -people situated as the Irish are, free. They are compelled -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_287" id="Page_287">[Pg 287]</a></span> -to labour constantly without receiving an approach -to adequate compensation, and they have no -means of escape except by sundering the ties of home, -kindred, and country.</p> - -<p class="i1">The various repulsive features of the Irish system -can be illustrated much more fully than our limits will -permit. But we will proceed to a certain extent, as it -is in Ireland that the results of British tyranny have -been most frightfully manifested.</p> - -<p class="i1">The population of Ireland is chiefly agricultural, yet -there are no agricultural labourers in the sense in -which that term is employed in Great Britain. A -peasant living entirely by hire, without land, is wholly -unknown.</p> - -<p class="i1">The persons who till the ground may be divided into -three classes, which are sometimes distinguished by the -names of small farmers, cottiers, and casual labourers; -or, as the last are sometimes called, "con-acre" men.</p> - -<p class="i1">The class of small farmers includes those who hold -from five to twelve Irish acres. The cottiers are those -who hold about two acres, in return for which they -labour for the farmer of twenty acres or more, or for -the gentry.</p> - -<p class="i1">Con-acre is ground hired, not by the year, but for a -single crop, usually of potatoes. The tenant of con-acre -receives the land in time to plant potatoes, and -surrenders it so soon as the crop has been secured. -The farmer from whom he receives it usually ploughs -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_288" id="Page_288">[Pg 288]</a></span> -and manures the land, and sometimes carts the crop. -Con-acre is taken by tradesmen, small farmers, and -cottiers, but chiefly by labourers, who are, in addition, -always ready to work for hire when there is employment -for them. It is usually let in roods, and other -small quantities, rarely exceeding half an acre. These -three classes, not very distinct from each other, form -the mass of the Irish population.</p> - -<div class="bq"> - -<p class="i1">"According to the census of 1831," says Mr. Bicheno, "the -population of Ireland was 7,767,401; the 'occupiers employing -labourers' were 95,339; the 'labourers employed in agriculture,' -(who do not exist in Ireland as a class corresponding to -that in England,) and the 'occupiers not employing labourers,' -amounted together to 1,131,715. The two last descriptions pretty -accurately include the cottier tenants and cottier labourers; and, -as these are nearly all heads of families, it may be inferred from -hence how large a portion of the soil of Ireland is cultivated by a -peasant tenantry; and when to these a further addition is made -of a great number of little farmers, a tolerably accurate opinion -may be formed of the insignificant weight and influence that any -middle class in the rural districts can have, as compared with the -peasants. Though many may occupy a greater extent of land -than the 'cottiers,' and, if held immediately from the proprietor, -generally at a more moderate rent, and may possess some trifling -stock, almost all the inferior tenantry of Ireland belong to one -class. The cottier and the little farmer have the same feelings, -the same interests to watch over, and the same sympathies. -Their diet and their clothing are not very dissimilar, though -they may vary in quantity; and the one cannot be ordinarily -distinguished from the other by any external appearance. Neither -does the dress of the children of the little farmers mark any distinction -of rank, as it does in England; while their wives are -singularly deficient in the comforts of apparel."—<i>Report of -Commissioners of Poor Inquiry.</i></p></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_289" id="Page_289">[Pg 289]</a></span></p> - -<p class="i1">The whole population, small farmers, cottiers, and -labourers, are equally devoid of capital. The small -farmer holds his ten or twelve acres of land at a nominal -rent—a rent determined not by what the land will -yield, but by the intensity of the competition to obtain -it. He takes from his farm a wretched subsistence, -and gives over the remainder to his landlord. This -remainder rarely equals the nominal rent, the growing -arrears of which are allowed to accumulate against -him.</p> - -<p class="i1">The cottier labours constantly for his landlord, (or -master, as he would have been termed of old,) and -receives, for his wages as a serf, land which will afford -him but a miserable subsistence. Badly off as these -two classes are, their condition is still somewhat better -than that of the casual labourer, who hires con-acre, -and works for wages at seasons when employment can -be had, to get in the first place the means of paying -the rent for his con-acre.</p> - -<p class="i1">Mr. Bicheno says—</p> - -<div class="bq"> - -<p class="i1">"It appears from the evidence that the average crops of con-acre -produce about as much or a little more, (at the usual price -of potatoes in the autumn,) than the amount of the rent, seed, -and tenant's labour, say 5<i>s.</i> or 10<i>s.</i> Beyond this the labourer -does not seem to derive any other direct profit from taking con-acre; -but he has the following inducements. In some cases he -contracts to work out a part, or the whole, of his con-acre rent; -and, even when this indulgence is not conceded to him by previous -agreement, he always hopes, and endeavours to prevail on -the farmer to be allowed this privilege, which, in general want -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_290" id="Page_290">[Pg 290]</a></span> -of employment, is almost always so much clear gain to him. By -taking con-acre he also considers that he is <i>securing</i> food to the -extent of the crop for himself and family at the low autumn -price; whereas, if he had to go to market for it, he would be subject -to the loss of time, and sometimes expense of carriage, to -the fluctuations of the market, and to an advance of price in -spring and summer."</p></div> - -<p class="i1">Of the intensity of the competition for land, the following -extracts from the evidence may give an idea:—</p> - -<div class="bq"> - -<p class="i1">"<i>Galway</i>, F. 35.—'If I now let it be known that I had a farm -of five acres to let, I should have fifty bidders in twenty-four -hours, and all of them would be ready to promise any rent that -might be asked.'—<i>Mr. Birmingham.</i> The landlord takes on -account whatever portion of the rent the tenant may be able to -offer; the remainder he does not remit, but allows to remain over. -A remission of a portion of the rent in either plentiful or scarce -seasons is never made as a matter of course; when it does take -place, it is looked upon as a favour.</p> - -<p class="i1">'The labourer is, from the absence of any other means of -subsisting himself and family, thrown upon the hire of land, and -the land he must hire at any rate; the payment of the promised -rent is an after consideration. He always offers such a rent as -leaves him nothing of the produce for his own use but potatoes, -his corn being entirely for his landlord's claim.'—<i>Rev. Mr. -Hughes</i>, P. P., and <i>Parker</i>.</p> - -<p class="i1">"<i>Leitrim</i>, F. 36 and 37.—'So great is the competition for small -holdings, that, if a farm of five acres were vacant, I really believe -that nine out of every ten men in the neighbourhood would bid -for it if they thought they had the least chance of getting it: -they would be prepared to outbid each other, <i>ad infinitum</i>, in -order to get possession of the land. <i>The rent which the people -themselves would deem moderate, would not in any case admit of -their making use of any other food than potatoes</i>; there are even -many instances in this barony where the occupier cannot feed -himself and family off the land he holds. In his anxiety to grow -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_291" id="Page_291">[Pg 291]</a></span> -as much oats (his only marketable produce) as will meet the -various claims upon him, he devotes so small a space to the cultivation -of potatoes, that he is obliged to take a portion of con-acre, -and to pay for it by wages earned at a time when he would -have been better employed on his own account.'—<i>Rev. T. Maguire</i>, -P. P."</p></div> - -<p class="i1">The land is subdivided into such small portions, that -the labourer has not sufficient to grow more than a -very scanty provision for himself and family. The -better individuals of the class manage to secrete some -of its produce from the landlord, to do which it is of -course necessary that they should not employ it on -their land: but if land is offered to be let, persons will -be found so eager for it as to make compliments to -some one of the family of the landlord or of his agent.</p> - -<p class="i1">The exactions of agents and sub-agents are the most -frequent causes of suffering among the peasantry. -These agents are a class peculiar to Ireland. They -take a large extent of ground, which they let out in -small portions to the real cultivator. They grant -leases sometimes, but the tenant is still in their power, -and they exact personal services, presents, bribes; -and draw from the land as much as they can, without -the least regard for its permanent welfare. That portion -of the poor peasant's substance which escapes the -tithes and tax of government is seized by the remorseless -agents, and thus the wretched labourer can get -but a miserable subsistence by the severest toil.</p> - -<p class="i1">In general the tenant takes land, promising to pay a -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_292" id="Page_292">[Pg 292]</a></span> -"nominal rent," in other words, a rent he never can -pay. This rent falls into arrear, and the landlord -allows the arrear to accumulate against him, in the -hope that if he should chance to have an extraordinary -crop, or if he should obtain it from any unexpected -source, the landlord may claim it for his arrears.</p> - -<p class="i1">The report of Poor-Law Commissioners states that -"Agricultural wages vary from 6<i>d.</i> to 1<i>s.</i> a day; -that the average of the country in general is about -8½<i>d.</i>; and that the earnings of the labourers, on an -average of the whole class, are from 2<i>s.</i> to 2<i>s.</i> 6<i>d.</i> a -week, or thereabout."</p> - -<div class="bq"> - -<p class="i1">"Thus circumstanced, it is impossible for the able-bodied, in -general, to provide against sickness or the temporary absence of -employment, or against old age or the destitution of their widows -and children in the contingent event of their own premature -decease.</p> - -<p class="i1">"A great portion of them are insufficiently provided at any -time with the commonest necessaries of life. Their habitations -are wretched hovels; several of a family sleep together upon -straw or upon the bare ground, sometimes with a blanket, sometimes -not even so much to cover them; their food commonly consists -of dry potatoes, and with these they are at times so scantily -supplied as to be obliged to stint themselves to one spare meal in -the day. There are even instances of persons being driven by -hunger to seek sustenance in wild herbs. They sometimes get a -herring, or a little milk, but they never get meat, except at -Christmas, Easter, and Shrovetide."</p></div> - -<p class="i1">The peasant finds himself obliged to live upon the -cheapest food, <i>potatoes</i>, and potatoes of the worst quality, -because they yield most, and are consequently the -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_293" id="Page_293">[Pg 293]</a></span> -cheapest. These potatoes are "little better than turnips." -"Lumpers" is the name given to them. They -are two degrees removed from those which come ordinarily -to our tables, and which are termed "apples." -Mr. Bicheno says, describing the three sorts of potatoes—apples, -cups, and lumpers—</p> - -<div class="bq"> - -<p class="i1">"The first named are of the best quality, but produce the least -in quantity; the cups are not so good in quality as the apples, -but produce more; and the lumpers are the worst of the three in -quality, but yield the heaviest crop. For these reasons the -apples are generally sent to Dublin and other large towns for -sale. The cups are grown for the consumption of smaller towns, -and are eaten by the larger farmers, and the few of the small occupiers -and labourers who are in better circumstances than the -generality of their class; and the lumpers are grown by large -farmers for stall-feeding cattle, and by most of the small occupiers -and all the labourers (except a few in constant employment, -and having but small families) for their own food. Though -most of the small occupiers and labourers grow apples and cups, -they do not use them themselves, with the few exceptions mentioned, -except as holiday fare, and as a little indulgence on -particular occasions. They can only afford to consume the -lumpers, or coarsest quality, themselves, on account of the much -larger produce and consequent cheapness of that sort. The -apples yield 10 to 15 per cent. less than the cups, and the cups -10 to 15 per cent. less than the lumpers, making a difference of -20 to 30 per cent. between the produce of the best and the worst -qualities. To illustrate the practice and feeling of the country -in this respect, the following occurrence was related by one of -the witnesses:—'A landlord, in passing the door of one of his -tenants, a small occupier, who was in arrears with his rent, saw -one of his daughters washing potatoes at the door, and perceiving -that they were of the apple kind, asked her if they were -intended for their dinner. Upon being answered that they were, -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_294" id="Page_294">[Pg 294]</a></span> -he entered the house, and asked the tenant what he meant -by eating <i>apple</i> potatoes when they were fetching so good a -price in Dublin, and while he did not pay him (the landlord) his -rent?'"</p></div> - -<p class="i1">Lumpers, dry, that is, without milk or any other -addition to them, are the ordinary food of the people. -The pig which is seen in most Irish cabins, and the cow -and fowls kept by the small farmers, go to market to -pay the rent; even the eggs are sold. Small farmers, -as well as labourers, rarely have even milk to their -potatoes.</p> - -<p class="i1">The following graphic description of an Irish peasant's -home, we quote from the Pictorial Times, of -February 7, 1846. Some districts in Ireland are -crowded with such hovels:—</p> - -<div class="bq"> - -<p class="i1">"<i>Cabin of J. Donoghue.</i>—The hovel to which the eye is now -directed scarcely exceeds Donoghue's length. He will have almost -as much space when laid in his grave. He can stand up in -no part of his cabin except the centre; and yet he is not an aged -man, who has outlived all his connections, and with a frame just -ready to mingle with its native dust. Nor is he a bachelor, absolutely -impenetrable to female charms, or looking out for some -damsel to whom he may be united, 'for better or for worse.' -Donoghue, the miserable inmate of that hovel, on the contrary, -has a wife and three children; and these, together with a dog, a -pig, and sundry fowls, find in that cabin their common abode. -Human beings and brutes are there huddled together; and the -motive to the occupancy of the former is just the same as that -which operates to the keeping of the latter—what they produce. -Did not the pig and the fowls make money, Donoghue would have -none; did not Donoghue pay his rent, the cabin would quickly -have another tenant. Indeed, his rent is only paid, and he and -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_295" id="Page_295">[Pg 295]</a></span> -his family saved from being turned adrift into the wide world, by -his pig and his fowls.</p> - -<p class="i1">"But the cabin should be examined more particularly. It has -a hole for a door, it has another for a window, it has a third -through which the smoke may find vent, and nothing more. No -resemblance to the door of an English cottage, however humble, -nor the casement it is never without, nor even the rudest chimney -from which the blue smoke arises, suggesting to the observer -many ideas of comfort for its inmates, can possibly be traced. -The walls, too, are jet black; and that which ought to be a floor -is mud, thick mud, full of holes. The bed of the family is sod. -The very cradle is a sort of swing suspended from the roof, and -it is set in motion by the elbow of the wretched mother of the -wretched child it contains, if she is not disposed to make use of -her hands.</p> - -<p class="i1">"The question may fairly be proposed—What comfort can a -man have in such circumstances? Can he find some relief from -his misery, as many have found and still find it, by conversing -with his wife? No. To suppose this, is to imagine him standing -in a higher class of beings than the one of which he has always -formed a part. Like himself, too, his wife is oppressed; the -growth of her faculties is stunted; and, it may be, she is hungry, -faint, and sick. Can he talk with his children? No. What can -he, who knows nothing, tell them? What hope can he stimulate -who has nothing to promise? Can he ask in a neighbour? No. -He has no hospitality to offer him, and the cabin is crowded with -his own family. Can he accost a stranger who may travel in the -direction of his hovel, to make himself personally acquainted -with his condition and that of others? No. He speaks a language -foreign to an Englishman or a Scotchman, and which those -who hate the 'Saxon,' whatever compliments they may pay him -for their own purposes, use all the means they possess to maintain. -Can he even look at his pig with the expectation that he -will one day eat the pork or the bacon it will yield? No; not -he. He knows that not a bone of the loin or a rasher will be his. -That pig will go, like all the pigs he has had, to pay his rent. -Only one comfort remains, which he has in common with his pig -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_296" id="Page_296">[Pg 296]</a></span> -and his dog, the warmth of his peat fire. Poor Donoghue! thou -belongest to a race often celebrated as 'the finest peasantry in the -world,' but it would be difficult to find a savage in his native -forest who is not better off than thou!"</p></div> - -<p class="i1">There is one other comfort besides the peat fire, -which Donoghue may have, and that is an occasional -gill of whisky—a temporary comfort, an ultimate -destruction—a new fetter to bind him down in his -almost brutal condition. In Ireland, as in England, -intoxication is the Lethe in which the heart-sick -labourers strive to forget their sorrows. Intemperance -prevails most where poverty is most generally felt.</p> - -<p class="i1">The Pictorial Times thus sketches a cabin of the -better class, belonging to a man named Pat Brennan:—</p> - -<div class="bq"> - -<p class="i1">"We will enter it, and look round with English eyes. We will -do so, too, in connection with the remembrance of an humble -dwelling in England. There we find at least a table, but here -there is none. There we find some chairs, but here there are -none. There we find a cupboard, but here there is none. There -we find some crockery and earthenware, but here there is none. -There we find a clock, but here there is none. There we find a -bed, bedstead, and coverings, but here there are none. There is -a brick, or stone, or boarded floor, but here there is none. What -a descent would an English agricultural labourer have to make if -he changed situations with poor Pat Brennan, who is better off -than most of the tenants of Derrynane Beg, and it may be in the -best condition of them all! Brennan's cabin has one room, in -which he and his family live, of course with the fowls and pigs. -One end is partitioned off in the manner of a loft, the loft being -the potato store. The space underneath, where the fire is kindled, -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_297" id="Page_297">[Pg 297]</a></span> -has side spaces for seats. In some instances, the turf-bed is on -one side and the seats on the other. The other contents of the -dwelling are—a milk-pail, a pot, a wooden bowl or two, a platter, -and a broken ladder. A gaudy picture of the Virgin Mary may -sometimes be seen in such cabins."</p></div> - -<p class="i1">The eviction of the wretched peasantry has caused -an immense amount of misery, and crowds of the -evicted ones have perished from starvation. The tillers -of the soil are mere tenants at will, and may ejected -from their homes without a moment's notice. A whim -of the landlord, the failure of the potato crop, or of -the ordinary resources of the labourers, by which they -are rendered unable to pay their rent for a short time, -usually results in an edict of levelling and extermination. -A recent correspondent of the London Illustrated -News, thus describes the desolation of an Irish -village:—</p> - -<div class="bq"> - -<p class="i1">"The village of Killard forms part of the Union of Kilrush, -and possesses an area of 17,022 acres. It had a population, in -1841, of 6850 souls, and was valued to the poor-rate at £4254. -It is chiefly the property, I understand, of Mr. John McMahon -Blackall, whose healthy residence is admirably situated on the -brow of a hill, protected by another ridge from the storms of the -Atlantic. His roof-tree yet stands there, but the people have disappeared. -The village was mostly inhabited by fishermen, who -united with their occupation on the waters the cultivation of -potatoes. When the latter failed, it might have been expected -that the former should have been pursued with more vigour than -ever; but boats and lines were sold for present subsistence, and -to the failure of the potatoes was added the abandonment of the -fisheries. The rent dwindled to nothing, and then came the -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_298" id="Page_298">[Pg 298]</a></span> -leveller and the exterminator. What has become of the 6850 -souls, I know not; but not ten houses remain of the whole village -to inform the wayfarer where, according to the population returns, -they were to be found in 1841. They were here, but are gone for -ever; and all that remains of their abodes are a few mouldering -walls, and piles of offensive thatch turning into manure. Killard -is an epitome of half Ireland. If the abodes of the people had -not been so slight, that they have mingled, like Babylon, with -their original clay, Ireland would for ages be renowned for its -ruins; but, as it is, the houses are swept away like the people, -and not a monument remains of a multitude, which, in ancient -Asia or in the wilds of America, would numerically constitute a -great nation."</p></div> - -<p class="i1">The same correspondent mentions a number of other -instances of the landlord's devastation, and states that -large tracts of fertile land over which he passed were -lying waste, while the peasantry were starving by the -roadside, or faring miserably in the workhouses. At -Carihaken, in the county of Galway, the levellers had -been at work, and had tumbled down eighteen houses. -The correspondent says—</p> - -<div class="bq"> - -<p class="i1">"In one of them dwelt John Killian, who stood by me while I -made a sketch of the remains of his dwelling. He told me that -he and his fathers before him had owned this now ruined cabin -for ages, and that he had paid £4 a year for four acres of ground. -He owed no rent; before it was due, the landlord's drivers cut -down his crops, carried them off, gave him no account of the proceeds, -and then tumbled his house. The hut made against the -end wall of a former habitation was not likely to remain, as a -decree had gone forth entirely to clear the place. The old man -also told me that his son having cut down, on the spot that was -once his own garden, a few sticks to make him a shelter, was -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_299" id="Page_299">[Pg 299]</a></span> -taken up, prosecuted, and sentenced to two months' confinement, -for destroying trees and making waste of the property.</p> - -<p class="i1">"I must supply you with another sketch of a similar subject, -on the road between Maam and Clifden, in Joyce's County, once -famous for the Patagonian stature of the inhabitants, who are -now starved down to ordinary dimensions. High up on the -mountain, but on the roadside, stands the scalpeen of Keillines. -It is near General Thompson's property. Conceive five human -beings living in such a hole: the father was out, at work; the -mother was getting fuel on the hills, and the children left in the -hut could only say they were hungry. Their appearance confirmed -their words—want was deeply engraved in their faces, and -their lank bodies were almost unprotected by clothing.</p> - -<p class="i1">"From Clifden to Ouchterade, twenty-one miles, is a dreary -drive over a moor, unrelieved except by a glimpse of Mr. Martin's -house at Ballynahinch, and of the residence of Dean Mahon. -Destitute as this tract is of inhabitants, about Ouchterade some -thirty houses have been recently demolished. A gentleman who -witnessed the scene told me nothing could exceed the heartlessness -of the levellers, if it were not the patient submission of the -sufferers. They wept, indeed; and the children screamed with -agony at seeing their homes destroyed and their parents in tears; -but the latter allowed themselves unresistingly to be deprived of -what is to most people the dearest thing on earth next to their -lives—their only home.</p> - -<p class="i1">"The public records, my own eyes, a piercing wail of wo -throughout the land—all testify to the vast extent of the evictions -at the present time. Sixteen thousand and odd persons -unhoused in the Union of Kilrush before the month of June in -the present year; seventy-one thousand one hundred and thirty -holdings done away in Ireland, and nearly as many houses destroyed, -in 1848; two hundred and fifty-four thousand holdings -of more than one acre and less than five acres, put an end to -between 1841 and 1848: six-tenths, in fact, of the lowest class of -tenantry driven from their now roofless or annihilated cabins and -houses, makes up the general description of that desolation of -which Tullig and Mooven are examples. The ruin is great and -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_300" id="Page_300">[Pg 300]</a></span> -complete. The blow that effected it was irresistible. It came in -the guise of charity and benevolence; it assumed the character -of the last and best friend of the peasantry, and it has struck -them to the heart. They are prostrate and helpless. The once -frolicksome people—even the saucy beggars—have disappeared, -and given place to wan and haggard objects, who are so resigned -to their doom that they no longer expect relief. One beholds only -shrunken frames, scarcely covered with flesh—crawling skeletons, -who appear to have risen from their graves, and are ready to -return frightened to that abode. They have little other covering -than that nature has bestowed on the human body—a poor protection -against inclement weather; and, now that the only hand -from which they expected help is turned against them, even hope -is departed, and they are filled with despair. Than the present -Earl of Carlisle there is not a more humane nor a kinder-hearted -nobleman in the kingdom; he is of high honour and unsullied -reputation; yet the poor-law he was mainly the means of establishing -for Ireland, with the best intentions, has been one of -the chief causes of the people being at this time turned out -of their homes, and forced to burrow in holes, and share, till -they are discovered, the ditches and the bogs with otters and -snipes.</p> - -<p class="i1">"The instant the poor-law was passed, and property was made -responsible for poverty, the whole of the land-owners, who had -before been careless about the people, and often allowed them to -plant themselves on untenanted spots, or divide their tenancies—delighted -to get the promise of a little additional rent—immediately -became deeply interested in preventing that, and in keeping -down the number of the people. Before they had rates to -pay, they cared nothing for them; but the law and their self-interest -made them care, and made them extirpators. Nothing -less than some general desire like that of cupidity falling in with -an enactment, and justified by a theory—nothing less than a -passion which works silently in all, and safely under the sanction -of a law—could have effected such wide-spread destruction. -Even humanity was enlisted by the poor-law on the side of extirpation. -As long as there was no legal provision for the poor, a -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_301" id="Page_301">[Pg 301]</a></span> -landlord had some repugnance to drive them from every shelter; -but the instant the law took them under its protection, and forced -the land-owner to pay a rate to provide for them, repugnance -ceased: they had a legal home, however inefficient, to go to; and -eviction began. Even the growth of toleration seems to have -worked to the same end. Till the Catholics were emancipated, -they were all—rich and poor, priests and peasants—united by a -common bond; and Protestant landlords beginning evictions on -a great scale would have roused against them the whole Catholic -nation. It would have been taken up as a religious question, as -well as a question of the poor, prior to 1829. Subsequent to that -time—with a Whig administration, with all offices open to Catholics—no -religious feelings could mingle with the matter: eviction -became a pure question of interest; and while the priests look -now, perhaps, as much to the government as to their flocks for -support, Catholic landlords are not behind Protestant landlords -in clearing their estates."</p></div> - -<p class="i1">The person from whom we make the above quotation -visited Ireland after the famine consequent upon the -failure of the potato crop had done its worst—in the -latter part of 1849. But famine seems to prevail, to a -certain extent, at all times, in that unhappy land—and -thus it is clear that the accidental failure of a crop has -less to do with the misery of the people than radical -misgovernment.</p> - -<div class="bq"> - -<p class="i1">"To the Irish, such desolation is nothing new. They have long -been accustomed to this kind of skinning. Their history, ever since -it was written, teems with accounts of land forcibly taken from one -set of owners and given to another; of clearings and plantings -exactly similar in principle to that which is now going on; of -driving men from Leinster to Munster, from Munster to Connaught, -and from Connaught into the sea. Without going back -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_302" id="Page_302">[Pg 302]</a></span> -to ancient proscriptions and confiscations—all the land having -been, between the reign of Henry II. and William III. confiscated, -it is affirmed, three times over—we must mention that the -clearing so conspicuous in 1848 has now been going on for several -years. The total number of holdings in 1841, of above one -acre, and not exceeding five acres each, was 310,375; and, in -1847, they had been diminished to 125,926. In that single class -of holdings, therefore, 184,449, between 1841 and 1847 inclusive, -had been done away with, and 24,147 were extinguished in 1848. -Within that period, the number of farms of five acres and upward, -particularly of farms of thirty acres and upward, was increased -210,229, the latter class having increased by 108,474. -Little or no fresh land was broken up; and they, therefore, could -only have been formed by amassing in these larger farms numerous -small holdings. Before the year 1847, therefore, before -1846, when the potato rot worked so much mischief, even before -1845, the process of clearing the land, of putting down homesteads -and consolidating farms, had been carried to a great extent; -before any provision had been made by a poor-law for the -evicted families, before the turned-out labourers and little farmers -had even the workhouse for a refuge, multitudes had been continually -driven from their homes to a great extent, as in 1848. -The very process, therefore, on which government now relies for -the present relief and the future improvement of Ireland, was begun -and was carried to a great extent several years before the extremity -of distress fell upon it in 1846. We are far from saying -that the potato rot was caused by the clearing system; but, by -disheartening the people, by depriving them of security, by contributing -to their recklessness, by paralyzing their exertions, by -promoting outrages, that system undoubtedly aggravated all the -evils of that extraordinary visitation."—<i>Illustrated News</i>, October -13, 1849.</p></div> - -<p class="i1">The correspondent of the News saw from one -hundred and fifty to one hundred and eighty funerals -of victims to the want of food, the whole number -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_303" id="Page_303">[Pg 303]</a></span> -attended by not more than fifty persons. So hardened -were the men regularly employed in the removal of the -dead from the workhouse, that they would drive to the -churchyard sitting upon the coffins, and smoking with -apparent enjoyment. These men had evidently "supped -full of horrors." A funeral was no solemnity to them. -They had seen the wretched peasants in the madness of -starvation, and death had come as a soothing angel. -Why should the quieted sufferers be lamented?</p> - -<div class="figcenter"><a name="i_303.jpg" id="i_303.jpg"></a> - <img src="images/i_303.jpg" - alt="" /> - <div class="caption">MULLIN'S HUT AT SCULL.</div> -</div> - -<p class="i1">A specimen of the in-door horrors of Scull may be -seen in the sketch of a hut of a poor man named Mullins, -who lay dying in a corner, upon a heap of straw -supplied by the Relief Committee, while his three -wretched children crouched over a few embers of turf, -as if to raise the last remaining spark of life. This -poor man, it appears, had buried his wife about five -days before, and was, in all probability, on the eve of -joining her, when he was found out by the efforts of -the vicar, who, for a few short days, saved him from -that which no kindness could ultimately avert. The -dimensions of Mullins's hut did not exceed ten feet -square, and the dirt and filth was ankle-deep upon the -floor.</p> - -<div class="bq"> - -<p class="i1">"Commander Caffin, the captain of the steam-sloop <i>Scourge</i>, -on the south coast of Ireland, has written a letter to a friend, -dated February 15, 1847, in which he gives a most distressing -and graphic account of the scenes he witnessed in the course of -his duty in discharging a cargo of meal at Scull. After stating -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_304" id="Page_304">[Pg 304]</a></span> -that three-fourths of the inhabitants carry a tale of wo in their -countenances, and are reduced to mere skeletons, he mentions the -result of what he saw while going through the parish with the -rector, Dr. Traill. He says—</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Famine exists to a fearful degree, with all its horrors. Fever -has sprung up, consequent upon the wretchedness; and swellings -of limbs and body, and diarrhœa, upon the want of nourishment, -are everywhere to be found. Dr. Traill's parish is twenty-one -miles in extent, containing about eighteen thousand souls, with -not more than half a dozen gentlemen in the whole of it. He -drove me about five or six miles; but we commenced our visits -before leaving the village, and in no house that I entered was -there not to be found the dead or dying. In particularizing two or -three, they may be taken as the features of the whole. There was -no picking or choosing, but we took them just as they came.</p> - -<p class="i1">"'The first which I shall mention was a cabin, rather above -the ordinary ones in appearance and comfort; in it were three -young women, and one young man, and three children, all -crouched over a fire—pictures of misery. Dr. Traill asked after -the father, upon which one of the girls opened a door leading into -another cabin, and there were the father and mother in bed; the -father the most wretched picture of starvation possible to conceive, -a skeleton with life, his power of speech gone; the mother -but a little better—her cries for mercy and food were heart-rending. -It was sheer destitution that had brought them to this. -They had been well to do in the world, with their cow, and few -sheep, and potato-ground. Their crops failed, and their cattle -were stolen; although, anticipating this, they had taken their -cow and sheep into the cabin with them every night, but they -were stolen in the daytime. The son had worked on the road, -and earned his 8<i>d.</i> a day, but this would not keep the family, and -he, from work and insufficiency of food, is laid up, and will soon -be as bad as his father. They had nothing to eat in the house, -and I could see no hope for any one of them.</p> - -<p class="i1">"'In another cabin we went into, a mother and her daughter -were there—the daughter emaciated, and lying against the wall—the -mother naked upon some straw on the ground, with a rug -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_305" id="Page_305">[Pg 305]</a></span> -over her—a most distressing object of misery. She writhed -about, and bared her limbs, in order to show her state of exhaustion. -She had wasted away until nothing but the skin -covered the bones—she cannot have survived to this time.</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Another that I entered had, indeed, the appearance of -wretchedness without, but its inside was misery! Dr. Traill, on -putting his head inside the hole which answered for a door, said, -'Well, Philis, how is your mother to-day?—he having been with -her the day before—and was replied to, 'Oh, sir, is it you? -Mother is dead!' and there, fearful reality, was the daughter, a -skeleton herself, crouched and crying over the lifeless body of her -mother, which was on the floor, cramped up as she had died, with -her rags and her cloak about her, by the side of a few embers of -peat. In the next cabin were three young children belonging to -the daughter, whose husband had run away from her, all pictures -of death. The poor creature said she did not know what to do -with the corpse—she had no means of getting it removed, and -she was too exhausted to remove it herself: this cabin was about -three miles from the rectory. In another cabin, the door of -which was stopped with dung, was a poor woman whom we had -taken by surprise, as she roused up evidently much astonished. -She burst into tears upon seeing the doctor, and said she had not -been enabled to sleep since the corpse of the woman had lain in -her bed. This was a poor creature who was passing this miserable -cabin, and asked the old woman to allow her to rest herself -for a few moments, when she had laid down, but never rose up -again; she died in an hour or so, from sheer exhaustion. The -body had remained in this hovel of six feet square with the poor -old woman for four days, and she could not get anybody to -remove it.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"The letter proceeds:—</p> - -<p class="i1">"'I could in this manner take you through the thirty or more -cottages we visited; but they, without exception, were all alike—the -dead and the dying in each; and I could tell you more of the -truth of the heart-rending scene were I to mention the lamentations -and bitter cryings of each of these poor creatures on the -threshold of death. Never in my life have I seen such wholesale -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_306" id="Page_306">[Pg 306]</a></span> -misery, nor could I have thought it so complete.'"—<i>Illustrated -News</i>, February 20, 1847. [At this period, famine prevailed -throughout Ireland.]</p></div> - -<p class="i1">At the village of Mienils, a man named Leahey -perished during the great famine, with many circumstances -of horror. When too weak, from want of -food, to help himself, he was stretched in his filthy -hovel, when his famished dogs attacked and so mangled -him that he expired in intense agony. Can the history -of any other country present such terrible instances -of misery and starvation? The annals of Ireland have -been dark, indeed; and those who have wilfully cast -that gloom upon them, must emancipate Africans, and -evangelize the rest of mankind, for a century, at least, -to lay the ghosts of the murdered Irish.</p> - -<p class="i1">An Irish funeral of later days, with its attendant -circumstances of poverty and gloom, is truly calculated -to stir the sensitive heart of a poet. The obsequies -display the meagre results of attempts to bury -the dead with decency. The mourners are few, but -their grief is sincere; and they weep for the lost as -they would be wept for when Death, who is ever walking -by their side, lays his cold hand on them. During -the great famine, some poor wretches perished while -preparing funerals for their friends. In the following -verses, published in Howitt's Journal, of the 1st of April, -1847, we have a fine delineation of an Irish funeral, -such as only a poet could give:—</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_307" id="Page_307">[Pg 307]</a></span></p> - - -<p class="ac larger">AN IRISH FUNERAL.</p> - -<p class="ac">BY THE AUTHOR OF "ORION."</p> - -<hr class="small" /> - -<div class="bq"> - -<p class="ac">"Funerals performed."—<i>London</i> Trades.</p> - -<p class="i1">"On Wednesday, the remains of a poor woman, who died of -hunger, were carried to their last resting-place by three women, -and a blind man the son-in-law of the deceased. The distance -between the wretched hut of the deceased and the grave-yard was -nearly three miles."—<i>Tuam Herald.</i></p></div> - -<hr class="small" /> - -<div class="poetry-container"> - <div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse"><span style="font-size:larger;">Heavily plod</span></div> - <div class="verse"><span style="font-size:larger;">Highroad and sod,</span></div> - <div class="verse"><span style="font-size:larger;">With the cold corpse clod</span></div> - <div class="verse"><span style="font-size:larger;">Whose soul is with God!</span></div> - </div> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse indent-4"><span style="font-size:larger;">An old door's the hearse - </span></div> - <div class="verse indent-4"><span style="font-size:larger;">Of the skeleton corpse, - </span></div> - <div class="verse indent-4"><span style="font-size:larger;">And three women bear it, - </span></div> - <div class="verse indent-4"><span style="font-size:larger;">With a blind man to - share it:</span></div> - <div class="verse"><span style="font-size:larger;">Over flint, over bog,</span></div> - <div class="verse"><span style="font-size:larger;">They stagger and jog:—</span></div> - <div class="verse indent-8"><span style="font-size:larger;">Weary, and hungry, and hopeless, - and cold,</span></div> - <div class="verse indent-8"><span style="font-size:larger;">They slowly bear onward the - bones to the mould.</span></div> - <div class="verse"><span style="font-size:larger;">Heavily plod</span></div> - <div class="verse"><span style="font-size:larger;">Highroad and sod,</span></div> - <div class="verse"><span style="font-size:larger;">With the cold corpse clod,</span></div> - <div class="verse"><span style="font-size:larger;">Whose soul is with God!</span></div> - </div> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse indent-4"><span style="font-size:larger;">Barefoot ye go,</span></div> - <div class="verse indent-4"><span style="font-size:larger;">Through the frost, through - the snow;</span></div> - <div class="verse indent-4"><span style="font-size:larger;">Unsteady and slow,</span></div> - <div class="verse indent-4"><span style="font-size:larger;">Your hearts mad with - woe;</span></div> - <div class="verse indent-8"><span style="font-size:larger;">Bewailing and blessing the - poor rigid clod—<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_308" id="Page_308">[Pg 308] - </a></span></span></div> - <div class="verse indent-8"><span style="font-size:larger;">The dear dead-and-cold one, - whose soul is with God.</span></div> - <div class="verse"><span style="font-size:larger;">Heavily plod</span></div> - <div class="verse"><span style="font-size:larger;">Highroad and sod,</span></div> - <div class="verse"><span style="font-size:larger;">This ruin and rod</span></div> - <div class="verse"><span style="font-size:larger;">Are from man—and not God!</span></div> - </div> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse indent-4"><span style="font-size:larger;">Now out spake her sister,— - </span></div> - <div class="verse"><span style="font-size:larger;">"Can we be quite sure</span></div> - <div class="verse indent-4"><span style="font-size:larger;">Of the mercy of Heaven, - </span></div> - <div class="verse"><span style="font-size:larger;">Or that Death is Life's cure?</span></div> - <div class="verse indent-8"><span style="font-size:larger;">A cure for the misery, famine, - and pains,</span></div> - <div class="verse indent-8"><span style="font-size:larger;">Which our cold rulers view as - the end of their gains?"</span></div> - <div class="verse"><span style="font-size:larger;">Heavily plod</span></div> - <div class="verse"><span style="font-size:larger;">Highroad and sod,</span></div> - <div class="verse"><span style="font-size:larger;">With the cold corpse clod,</span></div> - <div class="verse"><span style="font-size:larger;">Whose soul is with God!</span></div> - </div> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse indent-4"><span style="font-size:larger;">"In a land where's plenty," - </span></div> - <div class="verse"><span style="font-size:larger;">The old mother said,—</span></div> - <div class="verse indent-4"><span style="font-size:larger;">"But not for poor creatures - </span></div> - <div class="verse"><span style="font-size:larger;">Who pawn rags and bed—</span></div> - <div class="verse indent-8"><span style="font-size:larger;">There's plenty for rich ones, - and those far away,</span></div> - <div class="verse indent-8"><span style="font-size:larger;">Who drain off our life-blood, - so thoughtless and gay!"</span></div> - <div class="verse"><span style="font-size:larger;">Heavily plod</span></div> - <div class="verse"><span style="font-size:larger;">Highroad and sod,</span></div> - <div class="verse"><span style="font-size:larger;">With the cold corpse clod,</span></div> - <div class="verse"><span style="font-size:larger;">Whose soul is with God!</span></div> - </div> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse indent-4"><span style="font-size:larger;">Then wailed the third - woman—</span></div> - <div class="verse"><span style="font-size:larger;">"The darling was worth</span></div> - <div class="verse indent-4"><span style="font-size:larger;">The rarest of jewels - </span></div> - <div class="verse"><span style="font-size:larger;">That shine upon earth.</span></div> - <div class="verse indent-8"><span style="font-size:larger;">When hunger was gnawing - her—wasted and wild—</span></div> - <div class="verse indent-8"><span style="font-size:larger;">She shared her last morsel - with my little child."</span></div> - <div class="verse"><span style="font-size:larger;">Heavily plod - <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_309" id="Page_309">[Pg 309]</a></span></span></div> - <div class="verse"><span style="font-size:larger;">Highroad and sod,</span></div> - <div class="verse"><span style="font-size:larger;">With the cold corpse clod,</span></div> - <div class="verse"><span style="font-size:larger;">Whose soul is with God!</span></div> - </div> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse indent-4"><span style="font-size:larger;">"O Christ!" pray'd the blind - man,</span></div> - <div class="verse"><span style="font-size:larger;">"We are not so poor,</span></div> - <div class="verse indent-4"><span style="font-size:larger;">Though we bend 'neath the dear - weight</span></div> - <div class="verse"><span style="font-size:larger;">That crushes this door;</span></div> - <div class="verse indent-8"><span style="font-size:larger;">For we know that the grave is - the first step to Heaven,</span></div> - <div class="verse indent-8"><span style="font-size:larger;">And a birthright we have in the - riches there given."</span></div> - <div class="verse"><span style="font-size:larger;">Heavily plod,</span></div> - <div class="verse"><span style="font-size:larger;">Highroad and sod,</span></div> - <div class="verse"><span style="font-size:larger;">With the cold corpse clod,</span></div> - <div class="verse"><span style="font-size:larger;">Whose soul is with God!</span></div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class="i1">What wonder if the evicted peasants of Ireland, -made desperate by the tyranny of the landlords, sometimes -make "a law unto themselves," and slay their -oppressors! Rebellion proves manhood under such -circumstances. Instances of landlords being murdered -by evicted tenants are numerous. In the following -sketch we have a vivid illustration of this phase -of Irish life:—</p> - -<div class="bq"> - -<p class="i1">"The moorland was wide, level, and black; black as night, if -you could suppose night condensed on the surface of the earth, and -that you could tread on solid darkness in the midst of day. The -day itself was fast dropping into night, although it was dreary and -gloomy at the best; for it was a November day. The moor, for -miles around, was treeless and houseless; devoid of vegetation, -except heather, which clad with its gloomy frieze coat the shivering -landscape. At a distance you could discern, through the misty -atmosphere, the outline of mountains apparently as bare and stony -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_310" id="Page_310">[Pg 310]</a></span> -as this wilderness, which they bounded. There were no fields, no -hedgerows, no marks of the hand of man, except the nakedness -itself, which was the work of man in past ages; when, period after -period, he had tramped over the scene with fire and sword, and -left all that could not fly before him, either ashes to be scattered -by the savage winds, or stems of trees, and carcasses of men trodden -into the swampy earth. As the Roman historians said of -other destroyers, 'They created solitude, and called it peace.' -That all this was the work of man, and not of Nature, any one -spot of this huge and howling wilderness could testify, if you would -only turn up its sable surface. In its bosom lay thousands of ancient -oaks and pines, black as ebony; which told, by their gigantic -bulk, that forests must have once existed on this spot, as rich as -the scene was now bleak. Nobler things than trees lay buried -there; but were, for the most part, resolved into the substance of -the inky earth. The dwellings of men had left few or no traces, -for they had been consumed in flames; and the hearts that had -loved, and suffered, and perished beneath the hand of violence and -insult, were no longer human hearts, but slime. If a man were -carried blindfold to that place, and asked when his eyes were unbandaged -where he was, he would say—'Ireland!'</p> - -<p class="i1">"He would want no clue to the identity of the place, but the -scene before him. There is no heath like an Irish heath. There -is no desolation like an Irish desolation. Where Nature herself -has spread the expanse of a solitude, it is a cheerful solitude. The -air flows over it lovingly: the flowers nod and dance in gladness; -the soil breathes up a spirit of wild fragrance, which communicates -a buoyant sensation to the heart. You feel that you tread on -ground where the peace of God, and not the 'peace' of man created -in the merciless hurricane of war, has sojourned: where the sun -shone on creatures sporting on ground or on tree, as the Divine -Goodness of the Universe meant them to sport: where the hunter -disturbed alone the enjoyment of the lower animals by his own -boisterous joy: where the traveller sang as he went over it, because -he felt a spring of inexpressible music in his heart: where the -weary wayfarer sat beneath a bush, and blessed God, though his -limbs ached with travel, and his goal was far off. In God's deserts -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_311" id="Page_311">[Pg 311]</a></span> -dwells gladness; in man's deserts, death. A melancholy smites -you as you enter them. There is a darkness from the past that -envelopes your heart, and the moans and sighs of ten-times perpetrated -misery seem still to live in the very winds.</p> - -<p class="i1">"One shallow and widely spread stream struggled through the -moor; sometimes between masses of gray stone. Sedges and the -white-headed cotton-rush whistled on its margin, and on island-like -expanses that here and there rose above the surface of its middle -course.</p> - -<p class="i1">"I have said that there was no sign of life; but on one of those -gray stones stood a heron watching for prey. He had remained -straight, rigid, and motionless for hours. Probably his appetite -was appeased by his day's success among the trout of that dark -red-brown stream, which was coloured by the peat from which it -oozed. When he did move, he sprang up at once, stretched his -broad wings, and silent as the scene around him, made a circuit -in the air; rising higher as he went, with slow and solemn flight. -He had been startled by a sound. There was life in the desert now. -Two horsemen came galloping along a highway not far distant, and -the heron, continuing his grave gyrations, surveyed them as he -went. Had they been travellers over a plain of India, an Austrian -waste, or the pampas of South America, they could not have been -grimmer of aspect, or more thoroughly children of the wild. They -were Irish from head to foot.</p> - -<p class="i1">"They were mounted on two spare but by no means clumsy -horses. The creatures had marks of blood and breed that had -been introduced by the English to the country. They could claim, -if they knew it, lineage of Arabia. The one was a pure bay, the -other and lesser, was black; but both were lean as death, haggard -as famine. They were wet with the speed with which they had -been hurried along. The soil of the damp moorland, or of the field -in which, during the day, they had probably been drawing the -peasant's cart, still smeared their bodies, and their manes flew as -wildly and untrimmed as the sedge or the cotton-rush on the wastes -through which they careered. Their riders, wielding each a heavy -stick instead of a riding-whip, which they applied ever and anon to -the shoulders or flanks of their smoking animals, were mounted on -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_312" id="Page_312">[Pg 312]</a></span> -their bare backs, and guided them by halter instead of bridle. They -were a couple of the short frieze-coated, knee-breeches and gray-stocking -fellows who are as plentiful on Irish soil as potatoes. -From beneath their narrow-brimmed, old, weather-beaten hats, -streamed hair as unkemped as their horses' manes. The Celtic -physiognomy was distinctly marked—the small and somewhat upturned -nose; the black tint of skin; the eye now looking gray, now -black; the freckled cheek, and sandy hair. Beard and whiskers -covered half the face, and the short square-shouldered bodies were -bent forward with eager impatience, as they thumped and kicked -along their horses, muttering curses as they went.</p> - -<p class="i1">"The heron, sailing on broad and seemingly slow vans, still kept -them in view. Anon, they reached a part of the moorland where -traces of human labour were visible. Black piles of peat stood on -the solitary ground, ready, after a summer's cutting and drying. -Presently patches of cultivation presented themselves; plots of -ground raised on beds, each a few feet wide, with intervening -trenches to carry off the boggy water, where potatoes had grown, and -small fields where grew more stalks of ragwort than grass, inclosed -by banks cast up and tipped here and there with a brier or a stone. -It was the husbandry of misery and indigence. The ground had -already been freshly manured by sea-weeds, but the village—where -was it? Blotches of burnt ground, scorched heaps of rubbish, -and fragments of blackened walls, alone were visible. Garden-plots -were trodden down, and their few bushes rent up, or hung -with tatters of rags. The two horsemen, as they hurried by with -gloomy visages, uttered no more than a single word: 'Eviction!'</p> - -<p class="i1">"Further on, the ground heaved itself into a chaotic confusion. -Stony heaps swelled up here and there, naked, black, and barren: -the huge bones of the earth protruded themselves through her skin. -Shattered rocks arose, sprinkled with bushes, and smoke curled -up from what looked like mere heaps of rubbish, but which were -in reality human habitations. Long dry grass hissed and rustled -in the wind on their roofs, (which were sunk by-places, as if falling -in;) and pits of reeking filth seemed placed exactly to prevent access -to some of the low doors; while to others, a few stepping-stones -made that access only possible. Here the two riders stopped, and -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_313" id="Page_313">[Pg 313]</a></span> -hurriedly tying their steeds to an elder-bush, disappeared in one -of the cabins.</p> - -<p class="i1">"The heron slowly sailed on to the place of its regular roost. -Let us follow it.</p> - -<p class="i1">"Far different was this scene to those the bird had left. Lofty -trees darkened the steep slopes of a fine river. Rich meadows lay -at the feet of woods and stretched down to the stream. Herds of -cattle lay on them, chewing their cuds after the plentiful grazing -of the day. The white walls of a noble house peeped, in the dusk -of night, through the fertile timber which stood in proud guardianship -of the mansion; and broad winding walks gave evidence of a -place where nature and art had combined to form a paradise. -There were ample pleasure-grounds. Alas! the grounds around -the cabins over which the heron had so lately flown, might be truly -styled pain-grounds.</p> - -<p class="i1">"Within that home was assembled a happy family. There was -the father, a fine-looking man of forty. Proud you would have -deemed him, as he sate for a moment abstracted in his cushioned -chair; but a moment afterward, as a troop of children came -bursting into the room, his manner was instantly changed into one -so pleasant, so playful, and so overflowing with enjoyment, that -you saw him only as an amiable, glad, domestic man. The mother, -a handsome woman, was seated already at the tea-table; and, -in another minute, sounds of merry voices and childish laughter -were mingled with the jocose tones of the father, and the playful -accents of the mother; addressed, now to one, now to another of -the youthful group.</p> - -<p class="i1">"In due time the merriment was hushed, and the household -assembled for evening prayer. A numerous train of servants assumed -their accustomed places. The father read. He had paused -once or twice, and glanced with a stern and surprised expression -toward the group of domestics, for he heard sounds that astonished -him from one corner of the room near the door. He went on—Remember -the children of Edom, O Lord, in the day of judgment, -how they said, Down with it, down with it, even to the ground. -O daughter of Babylon, wasted with misery, yea, happy shall he be -who rewardeth thee, as thou hast served us!"</p></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_314" id="Page_314">[Pg 314]</a></span></p> - -<div class="bq"> - -<p class="i1">"There was a burst of smothered sobs from the same corner, -and the master's eye flashed with a strange fire as he again darted -a glance toward the offender. The lady looked equally surprised, -in the same direction; then turned a meaning look on her husband—a -warm flush was succeeded by a paleness in her countenance, -and she cast down her eyes. The children wondered, but were -still. Once more the father's sonorous voice continued—'Give us -this day our daily bread, and forgive us our trespasses as we forgive -them that trespass against us.' Again the stifled sound was -repeated. The brow of the master darkened again—the mother -looked agitated; the children's wonder increased; the master closed -the book, and the servants, with a constrained silence, retired from -the room.</p> - -<p class="i1">"'What <i>can</i> be the matter with old Dennis?' exclaimed the lady, -the moment that the door had closed on the household.—'Oh! what -<i>is</i> amiss with poor old Dennis!' exclaimed the children.</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Some stupid folly or other,' said the father, morosely. -'Come! away to bed, children. You can learn Dennis's troubles -another time.' The children would have lingered, but again the -words, 'Away with you!' in a tone which never needed repetition, -were decisive: they kissed their parents and withdrew. In a few -seconds the father rang the bell. 'Send Dennis Croggan here.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"The old man appeared. He was a little thin man, of not less -than seventy years of age, with white hair and a dark spare countenance. -He was one of those nondescript servants in a large -Irish house, whose duties are curiously miscellaneous. He had, -however, shown sufficient zeal and fidelity through a long life, to -secure a warm nook in the servants' hall for the remainder of his -days.</p> - -<p class="i1">"Dennis entered with an humble and timid air, as conscious -that he had deeply offended; and had to dread at least a severe -rebuke. He bowed profoundly to both the master and mistress.</p> - -<p class="i1">"'What is the meaning of your interruptions during the prayers, -Dennis?' demanded the master abruptly. 'Has any thing -happened to you?'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'No, sir.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Any thing amiss in your son's family?'</p></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_315" id="Page_315">[Pg 315]</a></span></p> - -<div class="bq"> - -<p class="i1">"'No, your honour.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"The interrogator paused; a storm of passion seemed slowly -gathering within him. Presently he asked in a loud tone, 'What -does this mean? Was there no place to vent your nonsense in, -but in this room, and at prayers?'</p> - -<p class="i1">"Dennis was silent. He cast an imploring look at the master, -then at the mistress.</p> - -<p class="i1">"'What is the matter, good Dennis?' asked the lady, in a kind -tone. 'Compose yourself, and tell us. Something strange must -have happened to you.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"Dennis trembled violently; but he advanced a couple of paces, -seized the back of a chair as if to support him, and, after a vain -gasp or two, declared, as intelligibly as fear would permit, that the -prayer had overcome him.</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Nonsense, man!' exclaimed the master, with fury in the same -face, which was so lately beaming with joy on the children. 'Nonsense! -Speak out without more ado, or you shall rue it.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"Dennis looked to the mistress as if he would have implored -her intercession; but as she gave no sign of it, he was compelled -to speak; but in a brogue that would have been unintelligible to -English ears. We therefore translate it:</p> - -<p class="i1">"'I could not help thinking of the poor people at Rathbeg, when -the soldiers and police cried, "Down with them! down with them, -even to the ground!" and then the poor bit cabins came down all -in fire and smoke, amid the howls and cries of the poor creatures.</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Oh! it was a fearful sight, your honour—it was, indeed—to see -the poor women hugging their babies, and the houses where they -were born burning in the wind. It was dreadful to see the old -bedridden man lie on the wet ground among the few bits of furniture, -and groan to his gracious God above. Oh, your honour! you -never saw such a sight, or—you—sure a—it would never have -been done!'</p> - -<p class="i1">"Dennis seemed to let the last words out as if they were jerked -from him by a sudden shock.</p> - -<p class="i1">"The master, whose face had changed during this speech to a -livid hue of passion, his eyes blazing with rage, was in the act -of rushing on old Dennis, when he was held back by his wife, -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_316" id="Page_316">[Pg 316]</a></span> -who exclaimed, 'Oswald! be calm; let us hear what Dennis has -to say. Go on, Dennis, go on.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"The master stood still, breathing hard to overcome his rage. -Old Dennis, as if seeing only his own thoughts, went on: 'O, -bless your honour, if you had seen that poor frantic woman when -the back of the cabin fell and buried her infant, where she thought -she had laid it safe for a moment while she flew to part her husband -and a soldier who had struck the other children with the -flat of his sword, and bade them to troop off. Oh, your honour, -but it was a killing sight. It was that came over me in the -prayer, and I feared that we might be praying perdition on us -all, when we prayed about our trespasses. If the poor creatures -of Rathbeg should meet us, your honour, at Heaven's gate (I was -thinking) and say—These are the heathens that would not let us -have a poor hearth-stone in poor ould Ireland.—And that was all, -your honour, that made me misbehave so; I was just thinking -of that, and I could not help it.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Begone, you old fool!' exclaimed the master; and Dennis -disappeared with a bow and an alertness that would have done -credit to his earlier years.</p> - -<p class="i1">"There was a moment's silence after his exit. The lady turned -to her husband, and clasping his arm with her hands and looking -into his darkened countenance with a look of tenderest anxiety, -said:—</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Dearest Oswald, let me, as I have so often done, once more -entreat that these dreadful evictions may cease. Surely there -must be some way to avert them and to set your property right, -without such violent measures.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"The stern proud man said, 'Then why, in the name of Heaven, -do you not reveal some other remedy? why do you not enlighten -all Ireland? why don't you instruct Government? The -unhappy wretches who have been swept away by force are no -people, no tenants of mine; they squatted themselves down, as a -swarm of locusts fix themselves while a green blade is left; they -obstruct all improvement; they will not till the ground themselves, -nor will they quit it to allow me to provide more industrious -and provident husbandmen to cultivate it. Land that teems -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_317" id="Page_317">[Pg 317]</a></span> -with fertility, and is shut out from hearing and bringing forth -food for man, is accursed. Those who have been evicted not only -rob me, but their more industrious fellows.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'They will murder us,' said the wife, 'some day for these -things. They will—'</p> - -<p class="i1">"Her words were cut short suddenly by her husband starting, -and standing in a listening attitude. 'Wait a moment,' he said, -with a peculiar calmness, as if he had just got a fresh thought; -and his lady, who did not comprehend what was the cause, but -hoped that some better influence was touching him, unloosed her -hands from his arm. 'Wait just a moment,' he repeated, and -stepped from the room, opened the front door, and, without his -hat, went out.</p> - -<p class="i1">"'He is intending to cool down his anger,' thought his wife; -'he feels a longing for the freshness of the air,' But she had not -caught the sound which had startled his quicker, because more -excited ear; she had been too much engrossed by her own intercession -with him; it was a peculiar whine from the mastiff, which -was chained near the lodge-gate, that had arrested his attention. -He stepped out. The black clouds which overhung the moor had -broken, and the moon's light straggled between them.</p> - -<p class="i1">"The tall and haughty man stood erect in the breeze and listened. -Another moment-there was a shot, and he fell headlong -upon the broad steps on which he stood. His wife sprang with a -piercing shriek from the door and fell on his corpse. A crowd -of servants gathered about them, making wild lamentations and -breathing vows of vengeance. The murdered master and the wife -were borne into the house.</p> - -<p class="i1">"The heron soared from its lofty perch, and wheeled with terrified -wings through the night air. The servants armed themselves, -and, rushing furiously from the house, traversed the surrounding -masses of trees; fierce dogs were let loose, and dashed -frantically through the thickets: all was, however, too late. The -soaring heron saw gray figures, with blackened faces, stealing -away—often on their hands and knees—down the hollows of the -moorlands toward the village, where the two Irish horsemen had, -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_318" id="Page_318">[Pg 318]</a></span> -in the first dusk of that evening, tied their lean steeds to the old -elder bush.</p> - -<p class="i1">"Near the mansion no lurking assassin was to be found. Meanwhile -two servants, pistol in hand, on a couple of their master's -horses, scoured hill and dale. The heron, sailing solemnly on -the wind above, saw them halt in a little town. They thundered -with the butt-ends of their pistols on a door in the principal street; -over it there was a coffin-shaped board, displaying a painted crown -and the big-lettered words, '<span class="sc">Police Station</span>.' The mounted servants -shouted with might and main. A night-capped head issued -from a chamber casement with—'What is the matter?'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Out with you, police! out with all your strength, and lose -not a moment. Mr. FitzGibbon, of Sporeen, is shot at his own -door.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"The casement was hastily clapped to, and the two horsemen -galloped forward up the long, broad street, now flooded with the -moon's light. Heads full of terror were thrust from upper windows -to inquire the cause of that rapid galloping, but ever too -late. The two men held their course up a steep hill outside of -the town, where stood a vast building overlooking the whole place; -it was the barracks. Here the alarm was also given.</p> - -<p class="i1">"In less than an hour a mounted troop of police in olive-green -costume, with pistols at holster, sword by side, and carbine on the -arm, were trotting briskly out of town, accompanied by the two -messengers, whom they plied with eager questions. These answered, -and sundry imprecations vented, the whole party increased -their speed, and went on, mile after mile, by hedgerow and open -moorland, talking as they went.</p> - -<p class="i1">"Before they reached the house of Sporeen, and near the village -where the two Irish horsemen had stopped the evening before, -they halted and formed themselves into more orderly array. A -narrow gully was before them on the road, hemmed in on each -side by rocky steeps, here and there overhung with bushes. The -commandant bade them be on their guard, for there might be -danger there. He was right; for the moment they began to trot -through the pass, the flash and rattle of firearms from the thickets -above saluted them, followed by a wild yell. In a second, -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_319" id="Page_319">[Pg 319]</a></span> -several of their number lay dead or dying in the road. The fire -was returned promptly by the police, but it was at random; for, -although another discharge and another howl announced that the -enemy were still there, no one could be seen. The head of the -police commanded his troops to make a dash through the pass; -for there was no scaling the heights from this side, the assailants -having warily posted themselves there, because at the foot of the -eminence were stretched on either hand impassable bogs. The -troop dashed forward, firing their pistols as they went, but were -met by such deadly discharges of firearms as threw them into -confusion, killed and wounded several of their horses, and made -them hastily retreat.</p> - -<p class="i1">"There was nothing for it but to await the arrival of the cavalry; -and it was not long before the clatter of horses' hoofs and -the ringing of sabres were heard on the road. On coming up, -the troop of cavalry, firing to the right and left on the hillsides, -dashed forward, and, in the same instant, cleared the gully in -safety, the police having kept their side of the pass. In fact, not -a single shot was returned, the arrival of this strong force having -warned the insurgents to decamp. The cavalry, in full charge, -ascended the hills to their summits. Not a foe was to be seen, -except one or two dying men, who were discovered by their groans.</p> - -<p class="i1">"The moon had been for a time quenched in a dense mass of -clouds, which now were blown aside by a keen and cutting wind. -The heron, soaring over the desert, could now see gray-coated -men flying in different directions to the shelter of the neighbouring -hills. The next day he was startled from his dreamy reveries -near the moorland stream, by the shouts and galloping of mingled -police and soldiers, as they gave chase to a couple of haggard, -bare-headed, and panting peasants. These were soon captured, -and at once recognised as belonging to the evicted inhabitants of -the recently deserted village.</p> - -<p class="i1">"Since then years have rolled on. The heron, who had been -startled from his quiet haunts by these things, was still dwelling -on the lofty tree with his kindred, by the hall of Sporeen. He -had reared family after family in that airy lodgment, as spring -after spring came round; but no family, after that fatal time, -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_320" id="Page_320">[Pg 320]</a></span> -had ever tenanted the mansion. The widow and children had -fled from it so soon as Mr. FitzGibbon had been laid in the grave. -The nettle and dock flourished over the scorched ruins of the village -of Rathbeg; dank moss and wild grass tangled the proud -drives and walks of Sporeen. All the woodland rides and pleasure-grounds -lay obstructed with briers; and young trees in time -grew luxuriantly where once the roller in its rounds could not -crush a weed; the nimble frolics of the squirrel were now the -only merry things where formerly the feet of lovely children had -sprung with elastic joy.</p> - -<p class="i1">"The curse of Ireland was on the place. Landlord and tenant, -gentleman and peasant, each with the roots and the shoots of -many virtues in their hearts, thrown into a false position by the -mutual injuries of ages, had wreaked on each other the miseries -sown broadcast by their ancestors. Beneath this foul spell men -who would, in any other circumstances, have been the happiest -and the noblest of mankind, became tyrants; and peasants, who -would have glowed with grateful affection toward them, exulted -in being their assassins. As the traveller rode past the decaying -hall, the gloomy woods, and waste black moorlands of Sporeen, -he read the riddle of Ireland's fate, and asked himself when an -Œdipus would arise to solve it."</p></div> - -<p class="i1">A large number of the peasantry of Connemara, a -rocky and romantic region, are among the most recent -evictions.</p> - -<div class="bq"> - -<p class="i1">"These hardy mountaineers, whose lives, and the lives of their -fathers and great-grandfathers have been spent in reclaiming the -barren hills where their hard lot has been cast, were the victims -of a series of oppressions unparalleled in the annals of Irish misrule. -They were thickly planted over the rocky surface of Connemara -for political purposes. In the days of the 40<i>s.</i> freeholder, -they were driven to the hustings like a flock of sheep, to register -not alone one vote, but in many instances three or four votes each; -and it was no uncommon thing to see those unfortunate serfs -evicted from their holdings when an election had terminated— -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_321" id="Page_321">[Pg 321]</a></span> -not that they refused to vote according to the wish of their landlords, -but because they did not go far enough in the sin of perjury -and the diabolical crime of impersonation. When they -ceased to possess any political importance, they were cast away -like broken tools. It was no uncommon thing, in the wilds of -Connemara, to see the peasantry, after an election, coming before -the Catholic Archbishop, when holding a visitation of his diocese, -to proclaim openly the crime of impersonation which their landlords -compelled them to commit, and implore forgiveness for -such. Of this fact we have in the town of Galway more than one -living witness; so that, while every thing was done, with few exceptions, -to demoralize the peasantry of Connemara, and plant in -their souls the germs of that slavery which is so destructive to -the growth of industry, enterprise, or manly exertion—no compassion -for their wants was ever evinced—no allowance for their -poverty and inability to meet the rack-renting demands of their -landlords was ever made."</p></div> - -<p class="i1">Perhaps, it requires no Œdipus to tell what will be -the future of the Irish nation, if the present system of -slavery is maintained by their English conquerors. If -they do not cease to exist as a people, they will continue -to quaff the dark waters of sorrow, and to pay a -price, terrible to think of, for the mere privilege of -existence.</p> - -<p class="i1">During the famine of 1847, the heartlessness of many -Irish landlords was manifested by their utter indifference -to the multitudes starving around their well-supplied -mansions. At that period, the Rev. A. King, of Cork, -wrote to the Southern Reporter as follows:—</p> - -<div class="bq"> - -<p class="i1">"The town and the surrounding country for many miles are -possessed by twenty-six proprietors, whose respective yearly incomes -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_322" id="Page_322">[Pg 322]</a></span> -vary from one hundred pounds, or less, to several thousands. -They had all been respectfully informed of the miserable -condition of the people, and solicited to give relief. Seventeen of -the number had not the politeness to answer the letters of the -committee, four had written to say they would not contribute, and -the remaining five had given a miserable fraction of what they -ought to have contributed. My first donation from a small -portion of a small relief fund, received from English strangers, -exceeded the aggregate contributions of six-and-twenty landed -proprietors, on whose properties human beings were perishing -from famine, filth, and disease, amid circumstances of wretchedness -appalling to humanity and disgraceful to civilized men! I -believe it my sacred duty to gibbet this atrocity in the press, and -to call on benevolent persons to loathe it as a monster crime. -Twenty-one owners of property, on which scores, nay hundreds, -of their fellow-creatures are dying of hunger, give nothing to save -their lives! Are they not virtually guilty of wholesale murder? -I ask not what human law may decide upon their acts, but in the -name of Christianity I arraign them as guilty of treason against -the rights of humanity and the laws of God!"</p></div> - -<p class="i1">It is to escape the responsibility mentioned by Mr. -King, as well as to avoid the payment of poor-rates, that -the landlords resort to the desolating process of eviction. -To show the destructive nature of the tyrannical -system that has so long prevailed in Ireland, we will -take an abstract of the census of 1841 and 1851.</p> - -<table id="CENSUS" summary="Census of 1841 and 1851"> - <tr> - <th></th> - <th></th> - <th style="text-align:center;">1841</th> - <th></th> - <th style="text-align:center;">1851</th> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c1">Houses:</td> - <td class="c1" style="padding-left:2.5em;">Inhabited</td> - <td class="c3">1,328,839</td> - <td class="c3"></td> - <td class="c3">1,047,935</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c1"></td> - <td class="c1" style="padding-left:2.5em;">Uninhabited, built</td> - <td class="c3">52,203</td> - <td class="c3"></td> - <td class="c3">65,159</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c1" style="padding-left:2.5em;">"</td> - <td class="c1" style="padding-left:5em;">"<span style="padding-left:2.5em;">building - </span></td> - <td class="c3">3,318</td> - <td class="c3"></td> - <td class="c3">2,113</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c1"></td> - <td class="c1"></td> - <td class="c3">————</td> - <td class="c3"></td> - <td class="c3">————</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c1"></td> - <td class="c1" style="padding-left:5em;">Total</td> - <td class="c3">1,384,360</td> - <td class="c3"></td> - <td class="c3">1,115,207</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c1">Families</td> - <td class="c1"></td> - <td class="c3">1,472,287</td> - <td class="c3"></td> - <td class="c3">1,207,002</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c1">Persons:</td> - <td class="c1" style="padding-left:2.5em;">Males</td> - <td class="c3">4,019,576</td> - <td class="c3"></td> - <td class="c3">3,176,727 <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_323" id="Page_323">[Pg 323]</a> - </span></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c1" style="padding-left:2.5em;">"</td> - <td class="c1" style="padding-left:2.5em;">Females</td> - <td class="c3">4,155,548</td> - <td class="c3"></td> - <td class="c3">3,339,067</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c1"></td> - <td class="c1"></td> - <td class="c3">————</td> - <td class="c3"></td> - <td class="c3">————</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c1"></td> - <td class="c1" style="padding-left:5em;">Total</td> - <td class="c3">8,175,124</td> - <td class="c3"></td> - <td class="c3">6,515,794</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c1"></td> - <td class="c1" style="padding-left:2.5em;">Population in 1841</td> - <td class="c3"></td> - <td class="c3">8,175,124</td> - <td class="c3"></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c1"></td> - <td class="c1" style="padding-left:5em;">"<span style="padding-left:2.5em;">1851</span></td> - <td class="c3"></td> - <td class="c3">6,515,794</td> - <td class="c3"></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c1"></td> - <td class="c1"></td> - <td class="c3"></td> - <td class="c3">————</td> - <td class="c3"></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c1"></td> - <td class="c1" style="padding-left:5em;">Decrease</td> - <td class="c3"></td> - <td class="c3">1,659,330</td> - <td class="c3"></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td colspan="2" class="c1">Or, at the rate of 20 per cent.</td> - <td class="c1"></td> - <td class="c3"></td> - <td class="c3"></td> - <td class="c3"></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c1"></td> - <td class="c1" style="padding-left:2.5em;">Population in 1821</td> - <td class="c3"></td> - <td class="c3">6,801,827</td> - <td class="c3"></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c1"></td> - <td class="c1" style="padding-left:5em;">"<span style="padding-left:2.5em;">1831</span></td> - <td class="c3"></td> - <td class="c3">7,767,401</td> - <td class="c3"></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c1"></td> - <td class="c1" style="padding-left:5em;">"<span style="padding-left:2.5em;">1841</span></td> - <td class="c3"></td> - <td class="c3">8,175,124</td> - <td class="c3"></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c1"></td> - <td class="c1" style="padding-left:5em;">"<span style="padding-left:2.5em;">1851</span></td> - <td class="c3"></td> - <td class="c3">6,515,794</td> - <td class="c3"></td> - </tr> -</table> - -<p> -Or, 286,030 souls fewer than in 1821, thirty years ago.<br /> -</p> - -<p class="i1">"We shall impress the disastrous importance of the reduction -in the number of the people on our readers, by placing before -them a brief account of the previous progress of the population. -There is good reason to suppose, that, prior to the middle of the -last century, the people continually, though slowly, increased; but -from that time something like authentic but imperfect records give -the following as their numbers at successive periods:—</p> - -<table class="narrow" id="POPULATION_INCREASE" summary="Population Increase"> - <tr> - <td class="c1">1754</td> - <td class="c2">2,372,634</td> - <td class="c1"></td> - <td class="c2"></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c1">1767</td> - <td class="c2">2,544,276</td> - <td class="c1" style="padding-left:5em;">Increase per cent.</td> - <td class="c2">7·2</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c1">1777</td> - <td class="c2">2,690,556</td> - <td class="c1"><span style="padding-left:7em;">"</span></td> - <td class="c2">5·7</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c1">1785</td> - <td class="c2">2,845,932</td> - <td class="c1"><span style="padding-left:7em;">"</span></td> - <td class="c2">5·8</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c1">1805</td> - <td class="c2">5,359,456</td> - <td class="c1"><span style="padding-left:7em;">"</span></td> - <td class="c2">84·0</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c1">1813</td> - <td class="c2">5,937,858</td> - <td class="c1"><span style="padding-left:7em;">"</span></td> - <td class="c2">10·8</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c1">1821</td> - <td class="c2">6,801,829</td> - <td class="c1"><span style="padding-left:7em;">"</span></td> - <td class="c2">14·6</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c1">1831</td> - <td class="c2">7,767,401</td> - <td class="c1"><span style="padding-left:7em;">"</span></td> - <td class="c2">14·9</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c1">1841</td> - <td class="c2">8,175,124</td> - <td class="c1"><span style="padding-left:7em;">"</span></td> - <td class="c2">5·3</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c1">1851</td> - <td class="c2">6,515,794</td> - <td class="c1" style="padding-left:5em;">Decrease</td> - <td class="c2">20·0</td> - </tr> -</table> - -<p class="i1">"Though there are some discrepancies in these figures, and probably -the number assigned to 1785 is too small, and that assigned -to 1805 too large, they testify uniformly to a continual increase of -the people for eighty-seven years, from 1754 to 1841. Now, for -the first time in nearly a century, a complete change has set in, -and the population has decreased in the last ten years 20 per cent. -It is 1,659,330 less than in 1841, and less by 286,033 than in 1821.</p></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_324" id="Page_324">[Pg 324]</a></span></p> - -<div class="bq"> - -<p class="i1">"But this is not quite all. The census of 1851 was taken 68 days -earlier than the census of 1841; and it is obvious, if the same rate -of decrease continued through those 68 days, as has prevailed on -the average through the ten years, that the whole amount of decrease -would be so much greater. Sixty-eight days is about the -54th part of ten years—say the 50th part; and the 50th part of -the deficiency is 33,000 odd—say 30,000. We must add 30,000, -therefore, to the 1,659,330, making 1,689,330, to get the true -amount of the diminution of the people in ten years.</p> - -<p class="i1">"Instead of the population increasing in a healthy manner, implying -an increase in marriages, in families, and in all the affections -connected with them, and implying an increase in general -prosperity, as for nearly a century before, and now amounting, -as we might expect, to 8,600,000, it is 2,000,000 less. This is a -disastrous change in the life of the Irish. At this downward rate, -decreasing 20 per cent. in ten years, five such periods would suffice -to exterminate the whole population more effectually than the Indians -have been exterminated from North America. Fifty years -of this new career would annihilate the whole population of Ireland, -and turn the land into an uninhabited waste. This is a -terrible reverse in the condition of a people, and is the more -remarkable because in the same period the population of Great -Britain has increased 12 per cent., and because there is no other -example of a similar decay in any part of Europe in the same -time, throughout which the population has continued to increase, -though not everywhere equally, nor so fast as in Great Britain. -Indeed, it may be doubted whether the annals of mankind can -supply, in a season of peace—when no earthquakes have toppled -down cities, no volcanoes have buried them beneath their ashes, -and no inroads of the ocean have occurred—such wholesale diminution -of the population and desolation of the country.</p> - -<p class="i1">"The inhabited houses in Ireland have decreased from 1,328,839 -in 1841 to 1,047,735 in 1851, or 281,104, (21·2 per cent.,) and -consequently more than the population, who are now worse lodged -and more crowded in relation to houses than they were in 1841. -As the uninhabited houses have increased only 12,951, no less -than 268,153 houses must have been destroyed in the ten years. -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_325" id="Page_325">[Pg 325]</a></span> -That informs us of the extent of the 'clearances' of which we -have heard so much of late; and the 1,659,300 people less in the -country is an index to the number of human beings who inhabited -the houses destroyed. We must remember, too, that within the -period a number of union workhouses have been built in Ireland, -capable of accommodating 308,885 persons, and that, besides the -actual diminution of the number of the people, there has been a -change in their habits, about 300,000 having become denizens of -workhouses, who, prior to 1841, lived in their own separate huts. -With distress and destruction pauperism has also increased.</p> - -<p class="i1">"The decrease has not been equal for the males and females; -the numbers were as follows.—</p> - -<table class="narrow" id="POPULATION_DECREASE" summary="Population Decrease"> - <tr> - <th class="c1"></th> - <th class="c2" style="text-align:center;">1841</th> - <th class="c2" style="text-align:center;">1851</th> - <th class="c2"></th> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c1">Males</td> - <td class="c2">4,019,576</td> - <td class="c2">3,176,124</td> - <td class="c2">Decrease 20·9 per cent.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c1">Females</td> - <td class="c2">4,155,548</td> - <td class="c2">3,336,067</td> - <td class="c2"><span style="padding-right:1.2em;">"</span><span - style="padding-right:1.0em;">29·6</span> <span style="padding-right:2em;">"</span></td> - </tr> -</table> - -<p class="i1">"The females now exceed the males by 162,943, or 2 per cent. -on the whole population. It is not, however, that the mortality -has been greater among the males than the females, but that more -of the former than of the latter have escaped from the desolation.</p> - -<p class="i1">"Another important feature of the returns is the increase of -the town population:—Dublin, 22,124, or 9 per cent.; Belfast, -24,352, or 32 per cent.; Galway, 7422, or 43 per cent.; Cork, -5765, or 7 per cent. Altogether, the town population has increased -71,928, or nearly 1 per cent., every town except Londonderry -displaying the same feature; and that increase makes the -decrease of the rural population still more striking. The whole -decrease is of the agricultural classes: Mr. O'Connell's 'finest -pisantry' are the sufferers."</p></div> - -<p class="i1">The London Illustrated News, in an article upon the -census, says—</p> - -<div class="bq"> - -<p class="i1">"The causes of the decay of the people, subordinate to inefficient -employment and to wanting commerce and manufactures, -are obviously great mortality, caused by the destruction of the -potatoes and the consequent want of food, the clearance system, -and emigration. From the retarded increase of the population -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_326" id="Page_326">[Pg 326]</a></span> -between 1831 and 1841—only 5·3 per cent., while in the previous -ten years it had been nearly 15 per cent.—it may be inferred -that the growth of the population was coming to a stand-still -before 1841, and that the late calamities only brought it down to -its means of continued subsistence, according to the distribution -of property and the occupations of the people. The potato rot, -in 1846, was a somewhat severer loss of that root than had before -fallen on the Irish, who have suffered occasionally from famines -ever since their history began; and it fell so heavily on them -then, because they were previously very much and very generally -impoverished. Thousands, and even millions, of them subsisted -almost exclusively on lumpers, the very worst kind of potatoes, -and were reduced in health and strength when they were overtaken -by the dearth of 1846. The general smallness of their -consumption, and total abstinence from the use of tax paying -articles, is made painfully apparent by the decrease of the population -of Ireland having had no sensible influence in reducing the -revenue. They were half starved while alive. Another remarkable -fact which we must notice is, that, while the Irish population -have thus been going to decay, the imports and exports of the -empire have increased in a much more rapid ratio than the -population of Great Britain. For them, therefore, exclusively, is -the trade of the empire carried on, and the Irish who have been -swept away, without lessening the imports and exports, have had -no share in our commerce. It is from these facts apparent, that, -while they have gone to decay, the population of Great Britain -have increased their well-being and their enjoyments much more -than their numbers. We need not remind our readers of the -dreadful sufferings of the Irish in the years 1847, 1848, and 1849; -for the accounts we then published of them were too melancholy -to be forgotten. As an illustration, we may observe that the -Irish Poor-law Commissioners, in their fourth report, dated May -5, 1851, boast that the 'worst evils of the famine, such as the -occurrence of <i>deaths by the wayside</i>, a high rate of mortality in -the workhouses, and the prevalence of dangerous and contagious -diseases in or out of the workhouse, have undergone a very material -abatement.' There have been, then, numerous deaths by -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_327" id="Page_327">[Pg 327]</a></span> -the wayside, alarming contagious diseases, and great mortality -in the workhouses."</p></div> - -<p class="i1">The Poor-law Commissioners kept a most mysterious -silence during the worst period of the famine; and, it -was only when the horrors of that time were known to -the whole civilized world that they reported the "abatement -of the evils." Perhaps, they had become so accustomed -to witnessing misery in Ireland that even the -famine years did not startle them into making a -humane appeal to the British government upon behalf -of the sufferers.</p> - -<p class="i1">The Illustrated News, in the same article we have -quoted above, says, quite sensibly, but with scarcely a -due appreciation of the causes of Ireland's decay—</p> - -<div class="bq"> - -<p class="i1">"The decline of the population has been greatest in Connaught; -now the Commissioners tell us that in 1847 the maximum rate -of mortality in the workhouses of that province was 43.6 per -week in a thousand persons, so that in about 23 weeks at this -rate the whole 1000 would be dead. The maximum rate of -mortality in all the workhouses in that year was 25 per 1000 -weekly, or the whole 1000 would die in something more than 39 -weeks. That was surely a very frightful mortality. It took place -among that part of the population for which room was found in -the workhouses; and among the population out of the workhouses -perishing by the wayside, the mortality must have been still more -frightful. We are happy to believe, on the assurance of the commissioners, -that matters are now improved, that workhouse accommodation -is to be had—with one exception, Kilrush—for all -who need it; that the expense of keeping the poor is diminished; -that contagious disorders are less frequent, and that the rate of -mortality has much declined. But the statement that such improvements -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_328" id="Page_328">[Pg 328]</a></span> -have taken place, implies the greatness of the past -sufferings. There can be no doubt, therefore, that the decay of -the population has partly arisen from increased mortality on the -one hand, and from decreasing marriages and decreasing births -on the other. Now that the Irish have a poor-law fairly administered, -we may expect that, in future, such terrible scenes as were -witnessed in 1847-49 will not again occur. But the state which -authorized the landlords, by a law, to clear their estates of the -peasantry, as if they were vermin, destroying, as we have seen, -268,153 dwellings, without having previously imposed on those -landlords the obligation of providing for the people, did a great -wrong, and the decay of the people now testifies against it.</p> - -<p class="i1">"With reference to emigration—the least objectionable mode of -getting rid of a population—there are no correct returns kept of -the number of Irish who emigrate, because a great part of them -go from Liverpool, and are set down in the returns as emigrants -from England. It is supposed by those best acquainted with the -subject, that more than nine-tenths of the emigrants from Liverpool -are Irish. Taking that proportion, therefore, and adding it -to the emigrants who proceed direct from Ireland, the number -of Irish emigrants from 1842 to the present year was—</p> - -<table class="narrow" id="POPULATION_DECREASE-2" summary="Population Decrease"> - <tr> - <td class="c1">1843</td> - <td class="c2">39,549</td> - <td class="c1">│</td> - <td class="c1">1847</td> - <td class="c2">214,970</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c1">1844</td> - <td class="c2">55,910</td> - <td class="c1">│</td> - <td class="c1">1848</td> - <td class="c2"></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c1">1845</td> - <td class="c2">177,720</td> - <td class="c1">│</td> - <td class="c1">1849</td> - <td class="c2">208,759</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c1">1846</td> - <td class="c2">106,767</td> - <td class="c1">│</td> - <td class="c1">1850</td> - <td class="c2">207,853</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c1"></td> - <td class="c2">————</td> - <td class="c1">│</td> - <td class="c1"></td> - <td class="c2">————</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c1"><span style="padding-left:1em;">Total, 4 years,</span></td> - <td class="c2">278,749</td> - <td class="c1">│</td> - <td class="c1"><span style="padding-left:1em;">Total, 4 years,</span></td> - <td class="c2">809,302</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td colspan="2" class="c1" style="padding-left:8em;">Total, 8 years</td> - <td class="c1"></td> - <td colspan="2" class="c1" style="padding-left:2em;">1,088,051.</td> - </tr> -</table> - -<p class="i1">"If we add 70,000 for the two first years of the decennial period -not included in the return, we shall have 1,158,051 as the total -emigration of the ten years. It was probably more than that—it -could not well have been less. To this we must add the number -of Irish who came to England and Scotland, of whom no account -is kept. If we put them down at 30,000 a year, we shall have -for the ten years 300,000; or the total expatriation of the Irish in -the ten years may be assumed at 1,458,000, or say 1,500,000. At -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_329" id="Page_329">[Pg 329]</a></span> -first sight this appears a somewhat soothing explanation of -the decline of the Irish population; but, on being closely examined, -it diminishes the evil very little in one sense, and threatens -to enhance it in another.</p> - -<p class="i1">"So far as national strength is concerned, it is of no consequence -whether the population die out or emigrate to another state, -except that, if the other state be a rival or an enemy, it may be -worse for the parent state that the population emigrate than be -annihilated. In truth, the Irish population in the United States, -driven away formerly by persecution, have imbittered the feelings -of the public there against England. Emigration is only -very beneficial, therefore, when it makes room for one at home -for every one removed. Such is the emigration from England to -her colonies or to the United States, with which she has intimate -trade relations; but such is not the case with the emigration -from Ireland, for there we find a frightful void. No one fills the -emigrant's place. He flies from the country because he cannot -live in it; and being comparatively energetic, we may infer that -few others can. In the ordinary course, had the 1,500,000 expatriated -people remained, nearly one-third of them would have -died in the ten years; they would have increased the terrible -mortality, and, without much adding to the present number of -the people, would have added to the long black catalogue of -death.</p> - -<p class="i1">"For the emigrants themselves removal is a great evil, a mere -flying from destruction. The Poor-law Commissioners state that -the number of pauper emigrants sent from Ireland in 1850 was -about 1800, or less than one per cent. of the whole emigration; -the bulk of the emigrants were not paupers, but persons of some -means as well as of some energy. They were among the best -of the population, and they carried off capital with them—leaving -the decrepit, the worn-out, and the feeble behind them; the -mature and the vigorous, the seed of future generations, went out -of the land, and took with them the means of future increase. -We doubt, therefore, whether such an emigration as that from -Ireland within the last four years will not be more fatal to its -future prosperity than had the emigrants swelled the mortality at -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_330" id="Page_330">[Pg 330]</a></span> -home. All the circumstances now enumerated tend to establish -the conclusion, that, for the state, and for the people who remain -behind, it is of very little consequence whether a loss of population, -such as that in Ireland, be caused by an excessive mortality -or excessive emigration.</p> - -<p class="i1">"To the emigrants themselves, after they have braved the pain -of the separation and the difficulties of the voyage, and after they -are established in a better home, the difference is very great; but -it may happen that, to Ireland as a state, their success abroad -will be rather dangerous than beneficial. On the whole, emigration -does not account for the decrease of people; and if it did -account for it, would not afford us the least consolation."</p></div> - -<p class="i1">In the above article, the Kilrush Union is mentioned -as an exception to the general improvement in Ireland, -in respect to workhouse accommodation. Mr. Sidney -Godolphin Osborne, the able and humane correspondent -of the London Times, can enlighten us in regard to -the treatment of the poor of Kilrush in 1851.</p> - -<div class="bq"> - -<p class="i1">"I am sorry to be compelled again to call public attention to -the state of things in the above ill-fated union. I do not dispute -the interest which must attach to the transactions of the Encumbered -Estates Court, the question of the so-called Godless Colleges, -the campaign now commencing against the national -schools, and the storm very naturally arising against the Papal -Aggression Bill, in a country so Catholic as Ireland. But I must -claim some interest upon the part of the British public on the -question of life and death now cruelly working out in the West of -Ireland.</p> - -<p class="i1">"The accommodation for paupers in the Kilrush union-houses -was, in the three weeks ending the 8th, 15th, and 22d of this -month, calculated for 4654; in the week ending the 8th of March -there were 5005 inmates, 56 deaths!—in the week ending the 15th -of March, 4980 inmates, 68 deaths!—in the week ending the -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_331" id="Page_331">[Pg 331]</a></span> -22d of March, 4868 inmates, 79 deaths! That is to say, <i>there -were 203 deaths in 21 days</i>. I last week called your attention to -the fact of the over-crowding and the improper feeding of the poor -creatures in these houses, as proved by a report made by the -medical officer on the 1st of February, repeated on the 22d, and, -at the time of my letter, evidently unheeded. Behold the result—79 -deaths in a population of under 5000 in one week! I have, I -regret to say, besides these returns, a large mass of returns of -deaths outside the house, evidently the result of starvation; on -some, coroners' juries have admitted it to be so.</p> - -<p class="i1">"Eye-witnesses of the highest respectability, as well as my own -paid agent, report to me the state of the town and neighbourhood -of the workhouse on the admission-days in characters quite horrifying: -between 100 and 200 poor, half-starved, almost naked -creatures may be seen by the roadside, under the market-house—in -short, wherever the famished, the houseless, and the cold can -get for a night's shelter. Many have come twelve Irish miles to -seek relief, and then have been refused, though their sunken eyes -and projecting bones write the words 'destitute' and 'starving' -in language even the most callous believers in pauper cunning -could not misunderstand. I will defy contradiction to the fact, -that the business of the admission-days is conducted in a way -which forbids common justice to the applicants; it is a mere -mockery to call the scene of indecent hurry and noisy strife between -guardians, officers, and paupers, which occupies the few -hours weekly given to this work, a hearing of applicants.</p> - -<p class="i1">"I have before me some particulars of a visit of inspection paid -to these houses a short time since by a gentleman whose position -and whose motives are above all cavil for respectability and integrity; -I have a mass of evidence, voluntarily given me, from -sources on which I can place implicit confidence, all tending to -one and the same point. The mortality so fast increasing can -only be ascribed to the insufficiency of the out-relief given to the -destitute, and the crowding and improper diet of the in-door paupers. -From the published statement of the half-year ending -September 29, 1850, signed 'C. M. Vandeleur, chairman,' I find -there were 1014 deaths in that said half-year. Average weekly -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_332" id="Page_332">[Pg 332]</a></span> -cost per head—food, 11¼<i>d.</i>; clothing, 2<i>d.</i> I shall look with -anxiety for the return of the half-year just ended; it will be a -curious document, as emanating from a board the chairman of -which has just trumpeted in your columns with regard to this -union, 'that the lands, with little exception, are well occupied, -and a spirit of industry visible among all classes.' It will at -least prove a more than usual occupation of burying-land, and a -spirit of increased energy in the grave-digging class.</p> - -<p class="i1">"With regard to the diet of the old and infirm, I can conceive -it possible that since the publication of my last letter there may -be some improvement, though I am not yet aware of it. I am -now prepared to challenge all contradiction to the fact that the -diet has been not only short of what it ought to be by the prescribed -dietary, but, in the case of the bread, it has frequently -been unfit for human food—such as very old or very young people -could only touch under the pressure of famine, and could not, -under any circumstances, sustain health upon.</p> - -<p class="i1">"Let the authorities investigate the deaths of the last six -weeks, taking the cause of death from the medical officers, and -how soon after admission each individual died; they will then, -with me, cease to wonder that the poor creatures who come in -starving should so soon sink, when the sanatory condition of the -law's asylum is just that which would tell most severely even on -the most healthy. I admit, sir, that Kilrush market may be well -supplied with cheap food, but the evicted peasantry have no -money, and vendors do not give. I admit that the season for the -growth of nettles, and cornkale, and other weeds, the of late -years normal food of these poor creatures, has not yet set in, and -this I do not deny is all against them. I leave to the British -public the forming any conclusion they like from this admission.</p> - -<p class="i1">"What I now contend for is this—that in a particular part of -Great Britain there are certain workhouses, asylums for the destitute, -supervised by salaried inspectors, directly under the cognizance -of the Government, in which the crowding of the sick is -most shameful, the diet equally so. The mortality for the weeks -ending January 25 to March 22—484, upon a population which -in those weeks never exceeded 5200 souls! I believe these to be -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_333" id="Page_333">[Pg 333]</a></span> -facts which cannot be disputed, and I claim on them the immediate -interference of the Government, and the more especially as -the chairman of this union makes a public favourable comparison -between it and the union of Ennistymon, in the same county. I -am myself prepared, on very short notice, to go over at my own -expense with any person of respectability from this country, appointed -by Government, and I have no doubt we shall prove that -I have, if any thing, understated matters; if so, am I wrong, sir, -in saying, that such a state of things, within a twenty hours' -journey from London, is in a sad and shameful contrast to the -expected doings of the 'World's Fair' on English ground? <i>When, -the other day, I looked on the Crystal Palace, and thought of Kilrush -workhouse, as I have seen it and now know it to be, I confess I -felt, as a Christian and the subject of a Christian Government, -utter disgust.</i> Again, sir, I thank you from my heart for your -indulgence to these my cries for justice for Ireland."</p></div> - -<p class="i1">Alas! poor country, where each hour teems with a -new grievance; where tyranny is so much a custom -that the very institutions which have charity written -upon their front are turned to dangerous pest-houses, -slaving shops, or tombs; where to toil even to extremity -is to be rewarded with semi-starvation in styes, and, -perhaps, by sudden eviction, and a grave by the wayside; -where to entertain certain religious convictions is -to invite the whips of persecution, and the particular -tyranny of the landlord who adheres to the Church of -England; where to speak the faith of the heart, the -opinions of the mind, is to sacrifice the food doled out -by the serf-holders; where to live is to be considered a -glorious mercy—to hope, something unfit for common -men.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_334" id="Page_334">[Pg 334]</a></span></p> - -<p class="i1">The struggles and achievements of Con McNale, as -related in "Household Words," give us a tolerably -truthful representation of the milder features of Irish -peasant life. Con had better luck than most of his class, -and knew better how to improve it. Yet the circumstances -of his existence were certainly not those of a -freeman:—</p> - -<div class="bq"> - -<p class="i1">"My father," said he, "lived under ould Squire Kilkelly, an' -for awhile tinded his cattle; but the Squire's gone out iv this part -iv the counthry, to Australia or some furrin part, an' the mentioned -house (mansion-house) an' the fine property was sould, so -it was, for little or nothin', for the fightin' was over in furrin -parts; Boney was put down, an' there was no price for corn or -cattle, an' a jontleman from Scotland came an' bought the istate. -We were warned by the new man to go, for he tuk in his own -hand all the in-land about the domain, bein' a grate farmer. He -put nobody in our little place, but pulled it down, an' he guv -father a five-guinea note, but my father was ould an' not able to -face the world agin, an' he went to the town an' tuk a room—a -poor, dirty, choky place it was for him, myself, and sisther to live -in. The neighbours were very kind an' good though. Sister -Bridget got a place wid a farmer hereabouts, an' I tuk the world -on my own showlders. I had nothin' at all but the rags I stud -up in, an' they were bad enuf. Poor Biddy got a shillin' advanced -iv her wages that her masther was to giv her. She guv -it me, for I was bent on goin' toward Belfast to look for work. -All along the road I axed at every place; they could giv it me, -but to no good; except when I axed, they'd giv me a bowl iv -broth, or a piece iv bacon, or an oaten bannock, so that I had my -shillin' to the fore when I got to Belfast.</p> - -<p class="i1">"Here the heart was near lavin' me all out intirely. I went -wandtherin' down to the quay among the ships, and what should -there be but a ship goin' to Scotland that very night wid pigs. -In throth it was fun to see the sailors at cross-purposes wid 'em, -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_335" id="Page_335">[Pg 335]</a></span> -for they didn't know the natur iv the bastes. I did. I knew how -to coax 'em. I set to an' I deludhered an' coaxed the pigs, an' -by pullin' them by the tail, knowing that if they took a fancy I -wished to pull 'em back out of the ship they'd run might an' main -into her, and so they did. Well, the sailors were mightily divarted, -an' when the pigs was aboord I wint down to the place; an' -the short iv it is that in three days I was in Glasgow town, an' -the captain an' the sailors subscribed up tin shillins an' guv it -into my hand. Well, I bought a raping-hook, an' away I trudged -till I got quite an' clane into the counthry, an' the corn was here -and there fit to cut. At last I goes an' ax a farmer for work. He -thought I was too wake to be paid by the day, but one field havin' -one corner fit to cut, an' the next not ready, 'Paddy,' says he, -'you may begin in that corner, an' I'll pay yees by the work yees -do,' an' he guv me my breakfast an' a pint of beer. Well, I never -quit that masther the whole harvest, an' when the raping was -over I had four goolden guineas to carry home, besides that I was -as sthrong as a lion. Yees would wonder how glad the sailors -was to see me back agin, an' ne'er a farthin' would they take -back iv their money, but tuk me over agin to Belfast, givin' me -the hoighth of good thratemint of all kinds. I did not stay an -hour in Belfast, but tuk to the road to look afther the ould man -an' little Biddy. Well, sorrows the tidins I got. The ould man -had died, an' the grief an' disthress of poor little Biddy had even -touched her head a little. The dacent people where she was, may -the Lord reward 'em, though they found little use in her, kep her, -hoping I would be able to come home an' keep her myself, an' so -I was. I brought her away wid me, an' the sight iv me put new -life in her. I was set upon not being idle, an' I'll tell yees what -I did next.</p> - -<p class="i1">"When I was little <i>bouchaleen</i> iv a boy I used to be ahead on -the mountain face, an' 'twas often I sheltered myself behind them -gray rocks that's at the gable iv my house; an' somehow it came -into my head that the new Squire, being a grate man for improvin' -might let me try to brake in a bit iv land there; an' so I goes -off to him, an' one iv the sarvints bein' a sort iv cousin iv mine, -I got to spake to the Squire, an' behould yees he guv me lave at -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_336" id="Page_336">[Pg 336]</a></span> -onst. Well, there's no time like the prisint, an' as I passed out -iv the back yard of the mentioned (mansion) house, I sees the -sawyers cutting some Norway firs that had been blown down by -the storm, an' I tells the sawyers that I had got lave to brake in -a bit iv land in the mountains, an' what would some pieces iv fir -cost. They says they must see what kind of pieces they was that -I wished for; an' no sooner had I set about looking 'em through -than the Squire himself comes ridin' out of the stable-yard, an' -says he at onst, 'McNale,' says he, 'you may have a load iv cuttins -to build your cabin, or two if you need it.' 'The Heavens -be your honour's bed,' says I, an' I wint off to the room where I -an' Biddy lived, not knowin' if I was on my head or my heels. -Next day, before sunrise, I was up here, five miles up the face -of Slieve-dan, with a spade in my fist, an' I looked roun' for the -most shiltered spot I could sit my eyes an. Here I saw, where -the house an' yard are stan'in', a plot iv about an acre to the -south iv that tall ridge of rocks, well sheltered from the blast -from the north an' from the aste, an' it was about sunrise an' a -fine morning in October that I tuk up the first spadeful. There -was a spring then drippin' down the face iv the rocks, an' I saw -at once that it would make the cabin completely damp, an' the -land about mighty sour an' water-<i>slain</i>; so I determined to do -what I saw done in Scotland. I sunk a deep drain right under -the rock to run all along the back iv the cabin, an' workin' that -day all alone by myself, I did a grate dale iv it. At night it was -close upon dark when I started to go home, so I hid my spade in -the heath an' trudged off. The next morning I bargained with a -farmer to bring me up a load iv fir cuttins from the Squire's, an' -by the evenin' they were thrown down within a quarter iv a mile -iv my place, for there was no road to it then, an' I had to carry -'em myself for the remainder of the way. This occupied me till -near nightfall; but I remained that night till I placed two upright -posts of fir, one at each corner iv the front iv the cabin.</p> - -<p class="i1">"I was detarmined to get the cabin finished as quickly as possible, -that I might be able to live upon the spot, for much time -was lost in goin' and comin'. The next day I was up betimes, -an' finding a track iv stiff blue clay, I cut a multitude of thick -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_337" id="Page_337">[Pg 337]</a></span> -square sods iv it, an' having set up two more posts at the remainin' -two corners iv the cabin, I laid four rows iv one gable, rising -it about three feet high. Havin' laid the rows, I sharpind three -or four straight pine branches, an' druv them down through the -sods into the earth, to pin the wall in its place. Next day I had -a whole gable up, each three rows iv sods pinned through to the -three benathe. In about eight days I had put up the four walls, -makin' a door an' two windows; an' now my outlay began, for I -had to pay a thatcher to put on the sthraw an' to assist me in -risin' the rafthers. In another week it was covered in, an' it was -a pride to see it with the new thatch an' a wicker chimbly daubed -with clay, like a pallis undernathe the rock. I now got some -turf that those who had cut 'em had not removed, an' they sould -'em for a thrifle, an' I made a grate fire an' slept on the flure of -my own house that night. Next day I got another load iv fir -brought to make the partitions in the winter, an' in a day or two -after I had got the inside so dhry that I was able to bring poor -Biddy to live there for good and all. The Heavens be praised, -there was not a shower iv rain fell from the time I began the -cabin till I ended it, an' when the rain did fall, not a drop came -through—all was carried off by my dhrain into the little river -before yees.</p> - -<p class="i1">"The moment I was settled in the house I comminced dhraining -about an acre iv bog in front, an' the very first winter I sowed -a shillin's worth of cabbidge seed, an' sold in the spring a pound's -worth of little cabbidge plants for the gardins in the town below. -When spring came, noticin' how the early-planted praties did the -best, I planted my cabbidge ground with praties, an' I had a -noble crap, while the ground was next year fit for the corn. In -the mane time, every winther I tuk in more and more ground, -an' in summer I cut my turf for fewel, where the cuttins could -answer in winther for a dhrain; an' findin' how good the turf -were, I got a little powney an' carried 'em to the town to sell, -when I was able to buy lime in exchange an' put it on my bog, -so as to make it produce double. As things went on I got assistance, -an' when I marrid, my wife had two cows that guv me a -grate lift.</p></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_338" id="Page_338">[Pg 338]</a></span></p> - -<div class="bq"> - -<p class="i1">"I was always thought to be a handy boy, an' I could do a -turn of mason-work with any man not riglarly bred to it; so I -took one of my loads of lime, an' instead of puttin' it on the land, -I made it into morthar—and indeed the stones being no ways -scarce, I set to an' built a little kiln, like as I had seen down the -counthry. I could then burn my own lime, an' the limestone -were near to my hand, too many iv 'em. While all this was goin' -on, I had riz an' sould a good dale iv oats and praties, an' every -summer I found ready sale for my turf in the town from one jontleman -that I always charged at an even rate, year by year. I -got the help of a stout boy, a cousin iv my own, who was glad iv -a shilter; an' when the childher were ould enough, I got some -young cattle that could graze upon the mountain in places where -no other use could be made iv the land, and set the gossoons to -herd 'em.</p> - -<p class="i1">"There was one bit iv ground nigh han' to the cabin that puzzled -me intirely. It was very poor and sandy, an' little better -than a rabbit burrow; an' telling the Squire's Scotch steward iv -it, he bade me thry some flax; an' sure enuf, so I did, an' a fine -crap iv flax I had as you might wish to see; an' the stame-mills -being beginnin' in the counthry at that time, I sould my flax for -a very good price, my wife having dhried it, beetled it, an' -scutched it with her own two hands.</p> - -<p class="i1">"I should have said before that the Squire himself came up -here with a lot iv fine ladies and jontlemen to see what I had -done; an' you never in your life seed a man so well plased as he -was, an' a mimber of Parlimint from Scotland was with him, an' -he tould me I was a credit to ould Ireland; an' sure didn't Father -Connor read upon the papers, how he tould the whole story in -the Parlimint house before all the lords an' quality. But faix, -he didn't forgit me; for a month or two after he was here, an' it -coming on the winter, comes word for me an' the powney to go -down to the mentioned (mansion) house, for the steward wanted -me. So away I wint, an' there, shure enuf, was an illigant Scotch -plough, every inch of iron, an' a lot of young Norroway pines—the -same you see shiltering the house an' yard—an' all was a free -prisint for me from the Scotch jontleman that was the mimber -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_339" id="Page_339">[Pg 339]</a></span> -of Parlimint. 'Twas that plough that did the meracles iv work -hereabouts; for I often lint it to any that I knew to be a careful -hand, an' it was the manes iv havin' the farmers all round send -an' buy 'em. At last I was able to build a brave snug house; -and, praised be Providence, I have never had an hour's ill health -nor a moment's grief, but when poor Biddy, the cratur, died from -us. It is thirty years since that morning that I tuk up the first -spadeful from the wild mountain side; an' twelve acres are good -labour land, an' fifteen drained an' good grazin'. I have been -payin' rint twinty years, an' am still, thank God, able to take my -own part iv any day's work—plough, spade, or flail."</p> - -<p class="i1">"Have you got a lease?" said I.</p> - -<p class="i1">"No, indeed, nor a schrape of a pin; nor I never axed it. Have -I not my <i>tinnant-rite</i>?"</p></div> - -<p class="i1">At any moment the labours of poor Con might have -been rendered of no benefit to him. He held the -wretched hovel and the ground he tilled merely by the -permission of the landlord, who could have desolated -all by the common process of eviction; and Con would -then have been driven to new exertions or to the workhouse. -The rugged ballad of "Patrick Fitzpatrick's -Farewell," presents a case more common than that of -Con McNale:—</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> - <div class="poetry"> - <div class="verse">"Those three long years I've labour'd hard as any on Erin's isle,</div> - <div class="verse indent-2">And still was scarcely able my family to keep;</div> - <div class="verse">My tender wife and children three, under the lash of misery,</div> - <div class="verse indent-2">Unknown to friends and neighbours, I've often seen to weep.</div> - <div class="verse">Sad grief it seized her tender heart, when forced her only cow to - part,</div> - <div class="verse indent-2">And canted<a name="FNanchor_94_94" id="FNanchor_94_94"></a> - <a href="#Footnote_94_94" class="fnanchor">[94]</a> - was before her face, the poor-rates for to pay;</div> - <div class="verse">Cut down in all her youthful bloom, she's gone into her silent tomb; - <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_340" id="Page_340">[Pg 340]</a></span></div> - <div class="verse indent-2">Forlorn I will mourn her loss when in America."</div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class="i1">In the same ballad we have an expression of the comparative -paradise the Irish expect to find—and do find, -by the way—in that land which excites so much the -pity of the philanthropic aristocracy:—</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> - <div class="poetry"> - <div class="verse">"Let Erin's sons and daughters fair now for the promised land - prepare,</div> - <div class="verse indent-2">America, that beauteous soil, will soon your toil repay;</div> - <div class="verse"><i>Employment, it is plenty there, on beef and mutton you can - fare,</i></div> - <div class="verse indent-2"><i>From five to six dollars is your wages every day</i>.</div> - <div class="verse">Now see what money has come o'er these three years from Columbia's - shore;</div> - <div class="verse indent-2">But for it numbers now were laid all in their silent clay;</div> - <div class="verse">California's golden mines, my boys, are open now to crown our joys,</div> - <div class="verse indent-2">So all our hardships we'll dispute when in America."</div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class="i1">As an illustration of the manner in which eviction is -sometimes effected by heartless landlords in Ireland, and -the treatment which the lowly of Great Britain generally -receive from those who become their masters, we -may quote "Two Scenes in the Life of John Bodger," -from "Dickens's Household Words." The characters -in this sketch are English; but the incidents are such -as frequently occur in Ireland:—</p> - -<div class="bq"> - -<p class="i1">"In the year 1832, on the 24th of December, one of those clear -bright days that sometimes supersede the regular snowy, sleety -Christmas weather, a large ship lay off Plymouth; the Blue Peter -flying from her masthead, quarters of beef hanging from her mizzen-booms, -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_341" id="Page_341">[Pg 341]</a></span> -and strings of cabbages from her stern rails; her decks -crowded with coarsely-clad blue-nosed passengers, and lumbered -with boxes, barrels, hen-coops, spars, and chain-cables. The wind -was rising with a hollow, dreary sound. Boats were hurrying to -and fro, between the vessel and the beach, where stood excited -groups of old people and young children. The hoarse, impatient -voices of officers issuing their commands, were mingled with the -shrill wailing of women on the deck and the shore.</p> - -<p class="i1">"It was the emigrant ship 'Cassandra,' bound for Australia -during the period of the 'Bounty' system, when emigration recruiters, -stimulated by patriotism and a handsome percentage, -rushed frantically up and down the country, earnestly entreating -'healthy married couples,' and single souls of either sex, to accept -a free passage to 'a land of plenty.' The English labourers had -not then discovered that Australia was a country where masters -were many and servants scarce. In spite of poverty and poorhouse -fare, few of the John Bull family could be induced to give heed to -flaming placards they could not read, or inspiring harangues -they could not understand. The admirable education which in -1832, at intervals of seven days, was distributed in homœopathic -doses among the agricultural olive-branches of England, did not -include modern geography, even when reading and writing were -imparted. If a stray Sunday-school scholar did acquire a faint -notion of the locality of Canaan, he was never permitted to travel -as far as the British Colonies.</p> - -<p class="i1">"To the ploughman out of employ, Canaan, Canada, and Australia -were all '<i>furrin parts</i>;' he did not know the way to them; -but he knew the way to the poorhouse, so took care to keep within -reach of it.</p> - -<p class="i1">"Thus it came to pass that the charterers of the good ship 'Cassandra' -were grievously out in their calculations; and failing to -fill with English, were obliged to make up their complement with -Irish; who, having nothing to fall upon, but the charity of the poor -to the poorer, are always ready to go anywhere for a daily meal.</p> - -<p class="i1">"The steamers from Cork had transferred their ragged, weeping, -laughing, fighting cargoes; the last stray groups of English had -been collected from the western counties; the Government officers -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_342" id="Page_342">[Pg 342]</a></span> -had cleared and passed the ship. With the afternoon tide two -hundred helpless, ignorant, destitute souls were to bid farewell to -their native land. The delays consequent on miscalculating the -emigrating taste of England had retarded until midwinter, a voyage -which should have been commenced in autumn.</p> - -<p class="i1">"In one of the shore-boats, sat a portly man—evidently neither -an emigrant nor a sailor—wrapped in a great coat and comforters; -his broad-brimmed beaver secured from the freezing blast by a -coloured bandanna tied under the chin of a fat, whiskerless face. -This portly personage was Mr. Joseph Lobbit, proprietor of 'The -Shop,' farmer, miller, and chairman of the vestry of the rich -rural parish of Duxmoor.</p> - -<p class="i1">"At Duxmoor, the chief estate was in Chancery, the manor-house -in ruins, the lord of it an outlaw, and the other landed proprietors -absentees, or in debt; a curate preached, buried, married, -and baptized, for the health of the rector compelled him to pass -the summer in Switzerland, and the winter in Italy; so Mr. Lobbit -was almost the greatest, as he was certainly the richest, man in -the parish.</p> - -<p class="i1">"Except that he did not care for any one but himself, and did -not respect any one who had not plenty of money, he was not a bad -sort of man. He had a jolly hearty way of talking and shaking -hands, and slapping people on the back; and until you began to -count money with him, he seemed a very pleasant, liberal fellow. -He was fond of money, but more fond of importance; and therefore -worked as zealously at parish-business as he did at his own -farm, shop, and mill. He centred the whole powers of the vestry -in one person, and would have been beadle, too, if it had been -possible. He appointed the master and matron of the workhouse, -who were relations of his wife; supplied all the rations and clothing -for 'the house,' and fixed the prices in full vestry (viz. himself, -and the clerk, his cousin,) assembled. He settled all the questions -of out-door relief, and tried hard, more than once, to settle the rate -of wages too.</p> - -<p class="i1">"Ill-natured people did say that those who would not work on -Master Lobbit's farm, at <i>his</i> wages, stood a very bad chance if they -wanted any thing from the parish, or came for the doles of blankets, -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_343" id="Page_343">[Pg 343]</a></span> -coals, bread, and linsey-woolsey petticoats, which, under the provisions -of the tablets in Duxmoor church, are distributed every -Christmas. Of course, Mr. Lobbit supplied these gifts, as chief -shopkeeper, and dispensed them, as senior and perpetual churchwarden. -Lobbit gave capital dinners; plenty smoked on his -board, and pipes of negro-head with jorums of gin punch followed, -without stint.</p> - -<p class="i1">"The two attorneys dined with him—and were glad to come, -for he had always money to lend, on good security, and his gin was -unexceptionable. So did two or three bullfrog farmers, very rich -and very ignorant. The doctor and curate came occasionally; -they were poor, and in his debt at 'The Shop,' therefore bound to -laugh at his jokes—which were not so bad, for he was no fool—so -that, altogether, Mr. Lobbit had reason to believe himself a very -popular man.</p> - -<p class="i1">"But there was—where is there not?—a black drop in his overflowing -cup of prosperity.</p> - -<p class="i1">"He had a son whom he intended to make a gentleman; whom -he hoped to see married to some lady of good family, installed in -the manor-house of Duxmoor, (if it should be sold cheap, at the -end of the Chancery suit,) and established as the squire of the -parish. Robert Lobbit had no taste for learning, and a strong -taste for drinking, which his father's customers did their best to -encourage. Old Lobbit was decent in his private habits; but, as -he made money wherever he could to advantage, he was always -surrounded by a levee of scamps, of all degrees—some agents and -assistants, some borrowers, and would-be borrowers. Young -Lobbit found it easier to follow the example of his father's companions -than to follow his father's advice. He was as selfish and -greedy as his father, without being so agreeable or hospitable. -In the school-room he was a dunce, in the play-ground a tyrant -and bully; no one liked him; but, as he had plenty of money, -many courted him.</p> - -<p class="i1">"As a last resource his father sent him to Oxford; whence, after -a short residence, he was expelled. He arrived home drunk, and -in debt; without having lost one bad habit, or made one respectable -friend. From that period he lived a sot, a village rake, the -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_344" id="Page_344">[Pg 344]</a></span> -king of the taproom, and the patron of a crowd of blackguards, -who drank his beer and his health; hated him for his insolence, -and cheated him of his money.</p> - -<p class="i1">"Yet Joseph Lobbit loved his son, and tried not to believe the -stories good-natured friends told of him.</p> - -<p class="i1">"Another trouble fell upon the prosperous churchwarden. On -the north side of the parish, just outside the boundaries of Duxmoor -Manor, there had been, in the time of the Great Civil Wars, -a large number of small freehold farmers: each with from forty to -five acres of land; the smaller, fathers had divided among their -progeny; the larger had descended to eldest sons by force of primogeniture. -Joseph Lobbit's father had been one of these small -freeholders. A right of pasture on an adjacent common was attached -to these little freeholds; so, what with geese and sheep, -and a cow or so, even the poorest proprietor, with the assistance -of harvest work, managed to make a living, up to the time of the -last war. War prices made land valuable, and the common was -enclosed; though a share went to the little freeholders, and sons -and daughters were hired, at good wages, while the enclosure was -going on, the loss of the pasture for stock, and the fall of prices -at the peace, sealed their fate. John Lobbit, our portly friend's -father, succeeded to his little estate, of twenty acres, by the death -of his elder brother, in the time of best war prices, after he had -passed some years as a shopman in a great seaport. His first use -of it was to sell it, and set up a shop in Duxmoor, to the great -scandal of his farmer neighbours. When John slept with his -fathers, Joseph, having succeeded to the shop and savings, began -to buy land and lend money. Between shop credit to the five-acred -and mortgages to the forty-acred men, with a little luck in -the way of the useful sons of the freeholders being constantly enlisted -for soldiers, impressed for sailors, or convicted for poaching -offences, in the course of years Joseph Lobbit became possessed, -not only of his paternal freehold, but, acre by acre, of all his -neighbours' holdings, to the extent of something like five hundred -acres. The original owners vanished; the stout and young departed, -and were seen no more; the old and decrepit were received -and kindly housed in the workhouse. Of course it could not have -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_345" id="Page_345">[Pg 345]</a></span> -been part of Mr. Lobbit's bargain to find them board and lodging -for the rest of their days at the parish expense. A few are said to -have drunk themselves to death; but this is improbable, for the -cider in that part of the country is extremely sour, so that it is -more likely they died of colic.</p> - -<p class="i1">"There was, however, in the very centre of the cluster of freeholds -which the parochial dignitary had so successfully acquired, -a small barren plot of five acres with a right of road through the -rest of the property. The possessor of this was a sturdy fellow, -John Bodger by name, who was neither to be coaxed nor bullied -into parting with his patrimony.</p> - -<p class="i1">"John Bodger was an only son, a smart little fellow, a capital -thatcher, a good hand at cobhouse building—in fact a handy man. -Unfortunately, he was as fond of pleasure as his betters. He sang -a comic song till peoples' eyes ran over, and they rolled on their -seats: he handled a singlestick very tidily; and, among the light -weights, was not to be despised as a wrestler. He always knew -where a hare was to be found; and, when the fox-hounds were out, -to hear his view-halloo did your heart good. These tastes were -expensive; so that when he came into his little property, although -he worked with tolerable industry, and earned good wages for that -part of the country, he never had a shilling to the fore, as the Irish -say. If he had been a prudent man, he might have laid by something -very snug, and defied Mr. Lobbit to the end of his days.</p> - -<p class="i1">"It would take too long to tell all Joseph Lobbit's ingenious devices—after -plain, plump offers—to buy Bodger's acres had been -refused. John Bodger declined a loan to buy a cart and horse; -he refused to take credit or a new hat, umbrella, and waistcoat, -after losing his money at Bidecot Fair. He went on steadily -slaving at his bit of land, doing all the best thatching and building -jobs in the neighbourhood, spending his money, and enjoying -himself without getting into any scrapes; until Mr. Joseph Lobbit, -completely foiled, began to look on John Bodger as a personal -enemy.</p> - -<p class="i1">"Just when John and his neighbours were rejoicing over the defeat -of the last attempt of the jolly parochial, an accident occurred -which upset all John's prudent calculations. He fell in love. -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_346" id="Page_346">[Pg 346]</a></span> -He might have married Dorothy Paulson, the blacksmith's daughter—an -only child, with better than two hundred pounds in the -bank, and a good business—a virtuous, good girl, too, except that -she was as thin as a hurdle, with a skin like a nutmeg-grater, and -rather a bad temper. But instead of that, to the surprise of every -one, he went and married Carry Hutchins, the daughter of Widow -Hutchins, one of the little freeholders bought out by Mr. Lobbit, -who died, poor old soul, the day after she was carried into the -workhouse, leaving Carry and her brother Tom destitute—that is -to say, destitute of goods, money, or credit, but not of common -sense, good health, good looks, and power of earning wages.</p> - -<p class="i1">"Carry was nearly a head taller than John, with a face like a -ripe pear. He had to buy her wedding gown, and every thing -else. He bought them at Lobbit's shop. Tom Hutchins—he was -fifteen years old—a tall, spry lad, accepted five shillings from his -brother-in-law, hung a small bundle on his bird's-nesting stick, -and set off to walk to Bristol, to be a sailor. He was never heard -of any more at Duxmoor.</p> - -<p class="i1">"At first all went well. John left off going to wakes and fairs, -except on business; stuck to his trades; brought his garden into -good order, and worked early and late, when he could spare time, -at his two fields, while his wife helped him famously. If they had -had a few pounds in hand, they would have had 'land and beeves.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"But the first year twins came—a boy and girl; and the next -another girl, and then twins again, and so on. Before Mrs. Bodger -was thirty she had nine hearty, healthy children, with a fair -prospect of plenty more; while John was a broken man, soured, -discontented, hopeless. No longer did he stride forth eagerly to -his work, after kissing mother and babies; no longer did he hurry -home to put a finishing-stroke to the potato-patch, or broadcast -his oat crop; no longer did he sit whistling and telling stories of -bygone feats at the fireside, while mending some wooden implement -of his own, or making one for a neighbour. Languid and -moody, he lounged to his task with round shoulders and slouching -gait; spoke seldom—when he did, seldom kindly. His children, -except the youngest, feared him, and his wife scarcely opened her -lips, except to answer.</p></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_347" id="Page_347">[Pg 347]</a></span></p> - -<div class="bq"> - -<p class="i1">"A long, hard, severe winter, and a round of typhus fever, -which carried off two children, finished him. John Bodger was -beaten, and obliged to sell his bit of land. He had borrowed -money on it from the lawyer; while laid up with fever he had -silently allowed his wife to run up a bill at 'The Shop.' When -strong enough for work there was no work to be had. Lobbit saw -his opportunity, and took it. John Bodger wanted to buy a cow, -he wanted seed, he wanted to pay the doctor, and to give his boys -clothes to enable them to go to service. He sold his land for what -he thought would do all this and leave a few pounds in hand. -He attended to sign the deed and receive money; when instead of -the balance of twenty-five pounds he had expected, he received -one pound ten shillings, and a long lawyer's bill <i>receipted</i>.</p> - -<p class="i1">"He did not say much; for poor countrymen don't know how to -talk to lawyers, but he went toward home like a drunken man; -and, not hearing the clatter of a horse behind him that had run -away, was knocked down, run over, and picked up with his collar-bone -and two ribs broken.</p> - -<p class="i1">"The next day he was delirious; in the course of a fortnight he -came to his senses, lying on a workhouse bed. Before he could -rise from the workhouse bed, not a stick or stone had been left to -tell where the cottage of his fathers had stood for more than two -hundred years, and Mr. Joseph Lobbit had obtained, in auctioneering -phrase, a magnificent estate of five hundred acres within a -ring fence.</p> - -<p class="i1">"John Bodger stood up at length a ruined, desperate, dangerous -man, pale, and weak, and even humble. He said nothing; the -fever seemed to have tamed every limb—every feature—except -his eyes, which glittered like an adder's when Mr. Lobbit came to -talk to him. Lobbit saw it and trembled in his inmost heart, yet -was ashamed of being afraid of a <i>pauper</i>!</p> - -<p class="i1">"About this time Swing fires made their appearance in the -country, and the principal insurance companies refused to insure -farming stock, to the consternation of Mr. Lobbit; for he had -lately begun to suspect that among Mr. Swing's friends he was -not very popular, yet he had some thousand pounds of corn-stacks -in his own yards and those of his customers.</p></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_348" id="Page_348">[Pg 348]</a></span></p> - -<div class="bq"> - -<p class="i1">"John Bodger, almost convalescent, was anxious to leave the -poorhouse, while the master, the doctor, and every official, seemed -in a league to keep him there and make him comfortable, although -a short time previously the feeling had been quite different. But -the old rector of Duxmoor having died at the early age of sixty-six, -in spite of his care for his health, had been succeeded by a -man who was not content to leave his duties to deputies; all the -parish affairs underwent a keen criticism, and John and his large -family came under investigation. His story came out. The new -rector pitied and tried to comfort him; but his soothing words -fell on deaf ears. The only answer he could get from John was, -'A hard life while it lasts, sir, and a pauper's grave, a pauper -widow, pauper children; Parson, while this is all you can offer -John Bodger, preaching to him is of no use.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"With the wife the clergyman was more successful. Hope and -belief are planted more easily in the hearts of women than of men, -for adversity softens the one and hardens the other. The rector -was not content with exhorting the poor; he applied to the rich -Joseph Lobbit on behalf of John Bodger's family, and as the rector -was not only a truly Christian priest, but a gentleman of good -family and fortune, the parochial ruler was obliged to hear and -to heed.</p> - -<p class="i1">"Bland and smooth, almost pathetic, was Joseph Lobbit: he -was 'heartily sorry for the poor man and his large family; should -be happy to offer him and his wife permanent employment on -his Hill farm, as well as two of the boys and one of the girls.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"The eldest son and daughter, the first twins, had been for some -time in respectable service. John would have nothing to do with -Mr. Lobbit.</p> - -<p class="i1">"While this discussion was pending, the news of a ship at -Plymouth waiting for emigrants, reached Duxmoor.</p> - -<p class="i1">"The parson and the great shopkeeper were observed in a long -warm conference in the rectory garden, which ended in their -shaking hands, and the rector proceeding with rapid strides to the -poorhouse.</p> - -<p class="i1">"The same day the lately established girls' school was set to -work sowing garments of all sizes, as well as the females of the -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_349" id="Page_349">[Pg 349]</a></span> -rector's family. A week afterward there was a stir in the village; -a wagon moved slowly away, laden with a father, mother, -and large family, and a couple of pauper orphan girls. Yes, it -was true; John and Carry Bodger were going to 'furrin parts,' -'to be made slaves on.' The women cried, and so did the children -from imitation. The men stared. As the emigrants passed the -Red Lion there was an attempt at a cheer from two tinkers; but -it was a failure; no one joined in. So staring and staring, the -men stood until the wagon crept round the turn of the lane and -over the bridge, out of sight; then bidding the 'wives' go home -and be hanged to 'em, their lords, that had twopence, went in to -spend it at the Red Lion, and those who had not, went in to see -the others drink, and talk over John Bodger's 'bouldness,' and -abuse Muster Lobbit quietly, so that no one in top-boots should -hear them;—for they were poor ignorant people in Duxmoor—they -had no one to teach them, or to care for them, and after the -fever, and a long hard winter, they cared little for their own flesh -and blood, still less for their neighbours. So John Bodger was -forgotten almost before he was out of sight.</p> - -<p class="i1">"By the road-wagon which the Bodgers joined when they -reached the highway, it was a three days' journey to Plymouth.</p> - -<p class="i1">"But, although they were gone, Mr. Lobbit did not feel quite -satisfied; he felt afraid lest John should return and do him some -secret mischief. He wished to see him on board ship, and fairly -under sail. Besides his negotiation with Emigration Brokers had -opened up ideas of a new way of getting rid, not only of dangerous -fellows like John Bodger, but of all kinds of useless paupers. -These ideas he afterward matured, and although important -changes have taken place in our emigrating system, even in 1851, -a visit to government ships, will present many specimens of parish -inmates converted, by dexterous diplomacy, into independent -labourers.</p> - -<p class="i1">"Thus it was, that contrary to all precedent, Mr. Lobbit left -his shopman to settle the difficult case of credit with his Christmas -customers, and with best horse made his way to Plymouth; and -now for the first time in his life floated on salt water.</p> - -<p class="i1">"With many grunts and groans he climbed the ship's side; not -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_350" id="Page_350">[Pg 350]</a></span> -being as great a man at Plymouth as at Duxmoor, no chair was -lowered to receive his portly person. The mere fact of having to -climb up a rope-ladder from a rocking boat on a breezy, freezing -day, was not calculated to give comfort or confident feelings to an -elderly gentleman. With some difficulty, not without broken -shins, amid the sarcastic remarks of groups of wild Irishmen, and -the squeaks of barefooted children—who not knowing his awful -parochial character, tumbled about Mr. Lobbit's legs in a most -impertinently familiar manner—he made his way to the captain's -cabin, and there transacted some mysterious business with the -Emigration Agent over a prime piece of mess beef and a glass of -Madeira. The Madeira warmed Mr. Lobbit. The captain assured -him positively that the ship would sail with the evening tide. -That assurance removed a heavy load from his breast: he felt like -a man who had been performing a good action, and also cheated -himself into believing that he had been spending <i>his own</i> money -in charity; so, at the end of the second bottle, he willingly chimed -in with the broker's proposal to go down below and see how the -emigrants were stowed, and have a last look at his 'lot.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"Down the steep ladder they stumbled into the misery of a -'bounty' ship. A long, dark gallery, on each side of which were -ranged the berths; narrow shelves open to every prying eye; -where, for four months, the inmates were to be packed like herrings -in a barrel, without room to move, almost without air to -breathe; the mess table, running far aft the whole distance between -the masts, left little room for passing, and that little was -encumbered with all manner of boxes, packages, and infants, -crawling about like rabbits in a warren.</p> - -<p class="i1">"The groups of emigrants were characteristically employed. -The Irish 'coshering,' or gossiping; for, having little or no baggage -to look after, they had little care; but lean and ragged, -monopolized almost all the good-humour of the ship. Acute cockneys, -a race fit for every change, hammering, whistling, screwing -and making all snug in their berths; tidy mothers, turning with -despair from alternate and equally vain attempts to collect their -numerous children out of danger, and to pack the necessaries of -a room into the space of a small cupboard, wept and worked away. -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_351" id="Page_351">[Pg 351]</a></span> -Here, a ruined tradesman, with his family, sat at the table, dinnerless, -having rejected the coarse, tough salt meat in disgust: -there, a half-starved group fed heartily on rations from the same -cask, luxuriated over the allowance of grog, and the idea of such -a good meal daily. Songs, groans, oaths: crying, laughing, complaining, -hammering and fiddling combined to produce a chaos of -strange sounds; while thrifty wives, with spectacle on nose, -mended their husband's breeches, and unthrifty ones scolded.</p> - -<p class="i1">"Amid this confusion, under the authoritative guidance of the -second mate, Mr. Lobbit made his way, inwardly calculating how -many poachers, pauper refractories, Whiteboys, and Captain -Rocks, were about to benefit Australia by their talents, until he -reached a party which had taken up its quarters as far as possible -from the Irish, in a gloomy corner near the stern. It consisted -of a sickly, feeble woman, under forty, but worn, wasted, retaining -marks of former beauty in a pair of large, dark, speaking eyes, -and a well-carved profile, who was engaged in nursing two -chubby infants, evidently twins, while two little things, just able -to walk, hung at her skirts; a pale, thin boy, nine or ten years -old, was mending a jacket; an elder brother, as brown as a berry, -fresh from the fields, was playing dolefully on a hemlock flute. -The father, a little, round-shouldered man, was engaged in cutting -wooden buttons from a piece of hard wood with his pocket-knife; -when he caught sight of Mr. Lobbit he hastily pulled off -his coat, threw it into his berth, and, turning his back, worked -away vigorously at the stubborn bit of oak he was carving.</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Hallo, John Bodger, so here you are at last,' cried Mr. Lobbit; -'I've broken my shins, almost broken my neck, and spoilt -my coat with tar and pitch, in finding you out. Well, you're -quite at home, I see: twins all well?—both pair of them? How -do you find yourself, Missis?'</p> - -<p class="i1">"The pale woman sighed, and cuddled her babies—the little -man said nothing, but sneered, and made the chips fly faster.</p> - -<p class="i1">"'You're on your way now to a country where twins are no object; -your passage is paid, and you've only got now to pray for -the good gentlemen that have given you a chance of earning an -honest living.'</p></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_352" id="Page_352">[Pg 352]</a></span></p> - -<div class="bq"> - -<p class="i1">"No answer.</p> - -<p class="i1">"'I see them all here except Mary, the young lady of the -family. Pray, has she taken rue, and determined to stay in -England, after all; I expected as much'——</p> - -<p class="i1">"As he spoke, a young girl, in the neat dress of a parlour servant, -came out of the shade.</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Oh! you are there, are you, Miss Mary? So you have made -up your mind to leave your place and Old England, to try your -luck in Australia; plenty of husbands there: ha, ha!'</p> - -<p class="i1">"The girl blushed, and sat down to sew at some little garments. -Fresh, rosy, neat, she was as great a contrast to her brother, the -brown, ragged ploughboy, as he was to the rest of the family, -with their flabby, bleached complexions.</p> - -<p class="i1">"There was a pause. The mate, having done his duty by finding -the parochial dignitary's <i>protegés</i>, had slipped away to more -important business; a chorus of sailors 'yo heave ho-ing' at a -chain cable had ceased, and for a few moments, by common consent, -silence seemed to have taken possession of the long, dark -gallery of the hold.</p> - -<p class="i1">"Mr. Lobbit was rather put out by the silence, and no answers; -he did not feel so confident as when crowing on his own dunghill, -in Duxmoor; he had a vague idea that some one might steal behind -him in the dark, knock his hat over his eyes, and pay off old -scores with a hearty kick: but parochial dignity prevailed, and, -clearing his throat with a 'hem,' he began again—</p> - -<p class="i1">"'John Bodger, where's your coat?—what are you shivering -there for, in your sleeves?—what have you done with the excellent -coat generously presented to you by the parish—a coat that -cost, as per contract, fourteen shillings and fourpence—you have -not dared to sell it, I hope?'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Well, Master Lobbit, and if I did, the coat was my own, I -suppose?'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'What, sir?'</p> - -<p class="i1">"The little man quailed; he had tried to pluck up his spirit, -but the blood did not flow fast enough. He went to his berth and -brought out the coat.</p> - -<p class="i1">"It was certainly a curious colour, a sort of yellow brown, the -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_353" id="Page_353">[Pg 353]</a></span> -cloth shrunk and cockled up, and the metal buttons turned a -dingy black.</p> - -<p class="i1">"Mr. Lobbit raved; 'a new coat entirely spoiled, what had he -done to it?' and as he raved he warmed, and felt himself at home -again, deputy acting chairman of the Duxmoor Vestry. But the -little man, instead of being frightened, grew red, lost his humble -mien, stood up, and at length, when his tormentor paused for -breath, looked him full in the face, and cried, 'Hang your coat!—hang -you!—hang all the parochials of Duxmoor! What have -I done with your coat? Why, I've dyed it; I've dipped it in a -tan-yard; I was not going to carry your livery with me. I mean -to have the buttons off before I'm an hour older. Gratitude you -talk of;—thanks you want, you old hypocrite, for sending me -away. I'll tell you what sent me,—it was that poor wench and -her twins, and a letter from the office, saying they would not insure -your ricks, while lucifer matches are so cheap. Ay, you may -stare—you wonder who told me that; but I can tell you more. -Who is it writes so like his father the bank can't tell the difference?'</p> - -<p class="i1">"Mr. Lobbit turned pale.</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Be off!' said the little man; 'plague us no more. You have -eaten me up with your usury; you've got my cottage and my bit -of land; you've made paupers of us all, except that dear lass, -and the one lad, and you'd wellnigh made a convict of me. But -never mind. This will be a cold, drear Christmas to us, and a -merry, fat one to you; but, perhaps, the Christmas may come -when Master Joseph Lobbit would be glad to change places with -poor, ruined John Bodger. I am going where I am told that sons -and daughters like mine are better than "silver, yea, than fine -gold." I leave you rich on the poor man's inheritance, and poor -man's flesh and blood. You have a son and daughter that will -revenge me. "Cursed are they that remove landmarks, and devour -the substance of the poor!"'</p> - -<p class="i1">"While this, one of the longest speeches that John Bodger was -ever known to make, was being delivered, a little crowd had collected, -who, without exactly understanding the merits of the -case, had no hesitation in taking side with their fellow-passenger, -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_354" id="Page_354">[Pg 354]</a></span> -the poor man with the large family. The Irish began to inquire -if the stout gentleman was a tithe-proctor or a driver? Murmurs -of a suspicious character arose, in the midst of which, in a very -hasty, undignified manner, Mr. Lobbit backed out, climbed up to -the deck with extraordinary agility, and, without waiting to make -any complaints to the officers of the ship, slipped down the side -into a boat, and never felt himself safe, until called to his senses -by an attempt on the part of the boatman to exact four times the -regular fare.</p> - -<p class="i1">"But a good dinner at the Globe (at parochial expense) and a -report from the agent that the ship had sailed, restored Mr. Lobbit's -equanimity; and by the time that, snugly packed in the -mail, he was rattling along toward home by a moonlight Christmas, -he began to think himself a martyr to a tender heart, and -to console himself by calculating the value of the odd corner of -Bodger's acres, cut up into lots for his labourers' cottages. The -result—fifty per cent.—proved a balm to his wounded feelings.</p> - -<p class="i1">"I wish I could say that at the same hour John Bodger was -comforting his wife and little ones; sorry am I to report that he -left them to weep and complain, while he went forward and -smoked his pipe, and sang, and drank grog with a jolly party in -the forecastle—for John's heart was hardened, and he cared little -for God or man.</p> - -<p class="i1">"This old, fond love for his wife and children seemed to have -died away. He left them, through the most part of the voyage, -to shift for themselves—sitting forward, sullenly smoking, looking -into vacancy, and wearying the sailors with asking, 'How many -knots to-day, Jack? When do you think we shall see land?' So -that the women passengers took a mortal dislike to him; and it -being gossiped about that when his wife was in the hospital he -never went to see her for two days, they called him a brute. So -'Bodger the Brute' he was called until the end of the voyage. -Then they were all dispersed, and such stories driven out of mind -by new scenes.</p> - -<p class="i1">"John was hired to go into the far interior, where it was difficult -to get free servants at all; so his master put up with the -dead-weight encumbrance of the babies, in consideration of the -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_355" id="Page_355">[Pg 355]</a></span> -clever wife and string of likely lads. Thus, in a new country, -he began life again in a blue jersey and ragged corduroys, but with -the largest money income he had ever known."</p></div> - -<p class="i1">The second scene is a picture of John Bodger's prosperity -in Australia, where eviction and workhouses are -forgotten. If Australia had not been open to John as -a refuge, most probably he would have become a criminal, -or a worthless vagrant. Here is the second -scene:—</p> - -<div class="bq"> - -<p class="i1">"In 1842, my friend Mrs. C. made one of her marches through -the bush with an army of emigrants. These consisted of parents -with long families, rough, country-bred single girls, with here -and there a white-handed, useless young lady—the rejected ones -of the Sydney hirers. In these marches she had to depend for -the rations of her ragged regiment on the hospitality of the settlers -on her route, and was never disappointed, although it often -happened that a day's journey was commenced without any distinct -idea of who would furnish the next dinner and breakfast.</p> - -<p class="i1">"On one of these foraging excursions—starting at day-dawn -on horseback, followed by her man Friday, an old <i>lag</i>, (prisoner,) -in a light cart, to carry the provender—she went forth to look for -the flour, milk, and mullet, for the breakfast of a party whose -English appetites had been sharpened by travelling at the pace -of the drays all day, and sleeping in the open air all night.</p> - -<p class="i1">"The welcome smoke of the expected station was found; the -light cart, with the complements and empty sack despatched; -when musing, at a foot-pace, perhaps on the future fortune of the -half-dozen girls hired out the previous day, Mrs. C. came upon a -small party which had also been encamping on the other side of -the hills.</p> - -<p class="i1">"It consisted of two gawky lads, in docked smock frocks, -woolly hats, rosy, sleepy countenances—fresh arrivals, living -monuments of the care bestowed in developing the intelligence -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_356" id="Page_356">[Pg 356]</a></span> -of the agricultural mind in England. They were hard at work -on broiled mutton. A regular, hard-dried bushman had just -driven up a pair of blood mares from their night's feed, and a -white-headed, brisk kind of young old man, the master of the -party, was sitting by the fire, trying to feed an infant with some -sort of mess compounded with sugar. A dray, heavily laden, -with a bullock-team ready harnessed, stood ready to start under -the charge of a bullock-watchman.</p> - -<p class="i1">"The case was clear to a colonial eye; the white-headed man -had been down to the port from his bush-farm to sell his stuff, -and was returning with two blood mares purchased, and two emigrant -lads hired; but what was the meaning of the baby? We -see strange things in the bush, but a man-nurse is strange even -there.</p> - -<p class="i1">"Although they had never met before, the white-headed man -almost immediately recognised Mrs. C.,—for who did not know -her, or of her, in the bush?—so was more communicative than -he otherwise might have been; so he said—</p> - -<p class="i1">"'You see, ma'am, my lady, I have only got on my own place -these three years; having a long family, we found it best to disperse -about where the best wages was to be got. We began saving -the first year, and my daughters have married pretty well, -and my boys got to know the ways of the country. There's three -of them married, thanks to your ladyship; so we thought we -could set up for ourselves. And we've done pretty tidy. So, as -they were all busy at home, I went down for the first time to get -a couple of mares, and see about hiring some lads out of the ships -to help us. You see I have picked up two newish ones; I have -docked their frocks to a useful length, and I think they'll do -after a bit; they can't read, neither of them—no more could I -when I first came—but our teacher (she's one my missis had -from you) will soon fettle them; and I've got a power of things -on the dray; I wish you could be there at unloading; for it being -my first visit, I wanted something for all of them. But about -this babby is a curious job. When I went aboard the ship to -hire my shepherds, I looked out for some of my own country; -and while I was asking, I heard of a poor woman whose husband -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_357" id="Page_357">[Pg 357]</a></span> -had been drowned in a drunken fit on the voyage, that was lying -very ill, with a young babby, and not likely to live.</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Something made me go to see her; she had no friends on -board, she knew no one in the colony. She started, like, at my -voice; one word brought on another, when it came out she was -the wife of the son of my greatest enemy.</p> - -<p class="i1">"'She had been his father's servant, and married the son secretly. -When it was found out, he had to leave the country; -thinking that once in Australia, the father would be reconciled, -and the business that put her husband in danger might be -settled. For this son was a wild, wicked man, worse than the -father, but with those looks and ways that take the hearts of poor -lasses. Well, as we talked, and I questioned her—for she did not -seem so ill as they had told me—she began to ask me who I was, -and I did not want to tell; when I hesitated, she guessed, and -cried out, 'What, John Bodger, is it thee!'—and with that she -screamed, and screamed, and went off quite light-headed, and -never came to her senses until she died.</p> - -<p class="i1">"'So, as there was no one to care for the poor little babby, and -as we had such a lot at home, what with my own children and my -grandchildren, I thought one more would make no odds, so the -gentleman let me take it, after I'd seen the mother decently -buried.</p> - -<p class="i1">"'You see this feeding's a very awkward job, ma'am—and -I've been five days on the road. But I think my missis will be -pleased as much as with the gown I've brought her.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'What,' said Mrs. C., 'are you the John Bodger that came -over in the 'Cassandra,'—the John B.?'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Yes, ma'am.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'John, the Brute?'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Yes, ma'am. But I'm altered, sure-<i>ly</i>.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Well,' continued John, 'the poor woman was old Joseph -Lobbit's daughter-in-law. Her husband had been forging, or -something, and would have been lagged if he'd staid in England. -I don't know but I might have been as bad if I had not got out -of the country when I did. But there's something here in always -getting on; and not such a struggling and striving that softens a -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_358" id="Page_358">[Pg 358]</a></span> -poor man's heart. And I trust what I've done for this poor -babby and its mother may excuse my brutish behaviour. I -could not help thinking when I was burying poor Jenny Lobbit, -(I mind her well, a nice little lass, about ten years old,) I could -not help thinking as she lay in a nice, cloth-covered coffin, and a -beautiful stone cut with her name and age, and a text on her -grave, how different it is even for poor people to be buried here. -Oh, ma'am! a man like me, with a long family, can make ahead -here, and do a bit of good for others worse off. We live while we -live; when we die we are buried with decency. I remember, -when my wife's mother died, the parish officers were so cross, and -the boards of the coffin barely stuck together, and it was terrible -cold weather, too. My Carry used to cry about it uncommonly -all the winter. The swells may say what they like about it, but -I'll be blessed if it be'ent worth all the voyage to die in it.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"Not many days afterward, Mrs. C. saw John at home, surrounded -by an army of sons and daughters; a patriarch, and -yet not sixty years old; the grandchild of his greatest enemy the -greatest pet of the family.</p> - -<p class="i1">"In my mind's eye there are sometimes two pictures. John -Bodger in the workhouse, thinking of murder and fire-raising in -the presence of his prosperous enemy; and John Bodger, in his -happy bush-home, nursing little Nancy Lobbit.</p> - -<p class="i1">"At Duxmoor the shop has passed into other hands. The ex-shopkeeper -has bought and rebuilt the manor-house. He is the -squire, now, wealthier than ever he dreamed; on one estate a -mine has been found; a railway has crossed and doubled the -value of another; but his son is dead; his daughter has left him, -and lives, he knows not where, a life of shame. Childless and -friendless, the future is, to him, cheerless and without hope."</p></div> - -<p class="i1">Poor-law guardians are characters held in very low -esteem by the Irish serfs, who are not backward in -expressing their contempt. The feeling is a natural one, -as will appear from considering who those guardians -generally are, and how they perform their duties: -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_359" id="Page_359">[Pg 359]</a></span>—</p> - -<div class="bq"> - -<p class="i1">"At the introduction of the poor-law into Ireland, the workhouses -were built by means of loans advanced by the Government -on the security of the rates. Constructed generally in that style -of architecture called 'Elizabethan,' they were the most imposing -in the country in elevation and frequency, and, placed usually in -the wretched suburbs of towns and villages, formed among the -crumbling and moss-grown cottages, a pleasing contrast in the -eye of the tourist. They were calculated to accommodate from -five hundred to two thousand inmates, according to the area and -population of the annexed district; but some of them remained -for years altogether closed, or, if open, nearly unoccupied, owing -to the ingenious shifts of the 'Guardians,' under the advice of the -'Solicitor of the Board,' Their object was to economize the resources -of the Union, to keep the rates down, and in some instances -they evaded the making of any rate for years after the -support of the destitute was made nominally imperative by the -law of the land.</p> - -<p class="i1">"As there was a good deal of patronage in a small way placed -at the disposal of the 'Guardians,' great anxiety was manifested -by those eligible to the office. Most justices of the peace were, -indeed, <i>ipso facto</i>, Guardians, but a considerable number had to -be elected by the rate-payers, and an active canvass preceded -every election. A great deal of activity and conviviality, if not -gayety, was the result, and more apparently important affairs were -neglected by many a farmer, shopkeeper, and professional man, -to insure his being elected a 'Guardian,' while the unsuccessful -took pains to prove their indifference, or to vent their ill-humour -in various ways, sometimes causing less innocuous effects than -the following sally:—</p> - -<p class="i1">"At a certain court of quarter sessions, during the dog-day heat -of one of these contests, a burly fellow was arraigned before -'their worships' and the jury, charged with some petty theft; -and as he perceived that the proofs were incontestably clear -against him, he fell into a very violent trepidation. An attorney -of the court, not overburdened with business, and fond of occupying -his idle time in playing off practical jokes, perceiving how -the case stood, addressed the prisoner in a whisper over the side -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_360" id="Page_360">[Pg 360]</a></span> -of the dock, with a very ominous and commiserating shake of his -head:</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Ah, you unfortunate man, ye'll be found guilty; and as sure -as ye are, ye'll get worse than hangin' or thransportation. As -sure as ever the barristher takes a pinch of snuff, that's his intention; -ye'll see him put on the black cap immaydiately. Plaid -guilty at once, and I'll tell ye what ye'll say to him afther.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"The acute practitioner knew his man; the poor half-witted -culprit fell into the snare; and after a short and serious whispering -between them, which was unobserved in the bustle of the -court-house usual on such occasions, the prisoner cried out, just -as the issue-paper was going up to the jury, 'Me lord, me lord, I -plaid guilty; I beg your wortchip's an' their honours' pardon.</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Very well,' said the assistant barrister, whose duty it was -to advise upon the law of each case, and preside at the bench in -judicial costume; 'very well, sir. Crier, call silence.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"Several voices immediately called energetically for silence, -impressing the culprit with grave ideas at once of his worship's -great importance, and the serious nature of the coming sentence.</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Withdraw the plea of not guilty, and take one of guilty to -the felony,' continued the assistant barrister, taking a pinch of -snuff and turning round to consult his brother magistrates as to -the term of intended incarceration.</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Don't lose yer time, ye omodhaun!' said the attorney, with -an angry look at the prisoner.</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Will I be allowed to spake one word, yer wortchips?' said -the unfortunate culprit.</p> - -<p class="i1">"'What has he to say?' said the assistant barrister with considerable -dignity.</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Go on, ye fool ye,' urged the attorney.</p> - -<p class="i1">"'My lord, yer wortchips, and gintlemin av the jury,' exclaimed -the culprit, 'sind me out o' the counthry, or into jail, or breakin' -stones, or walkin' on the threadmill, or any thing else in the -coorse o' nature, as yer wortchips playses; but for the love o' the -Virgin Mary, <i>don't make me a Poor-Law Gargin</i>.'" -<a name="FNanchor_95_95" id="FNanchor_95_95"></a> -<a href="#Footnote_95_95" class="fnanchor">[95]</a></p></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_361" id="Page_361">[Pg 361]</a></span></p> - -<p class="i1">The most recent legislation of the British government -in regard to Ireland, the enactment of the Poor-law -and the Encumbered Estates Act, has had but one grand -tendency—that of diminishing the number of the population, -which is, indeed, a strange way to improve the -condition of the nation. The country was not too -thickly populated; far from it: great tracts of land -were entirely uninhabited. The exterminating acts -were, therefore, only measures of renewed tyranny. To -enslave a people is a crime of sufficient enormity; but -to drive them from the homes of their ancestors to seek -a refuge in distant and unknown lands, is such an action -as only the most monstrous of governments would dare -to perform.</p> - -<p class="i1">We have thus shown that Ireland has long endured, -and still endures, a cruel system of slavery, for which -we may seek in vain for a parallel. It matters not -that the Irish serf may leave his country; while he -remains he is a slave to a master who will not call him -property, chiefly because it would create the necessity -of careful and expensive ownership. If the Irish master -took his labourer for his slave in the American -sense, he would be compelled to provide for him, work -or not work, in sickness and in old age. Thus the -master reaps the benefits, and escapes the penalties of -slave-holding. He takes the fruits of the labourer's -toil without providing for him as the negro slaves of -America are provided for; nay, very often he refuses -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_362" id="Page_362">[Pg 362]</a></span> -the poor wretch a home at any price. In no other -country does the slaveholder seem so utterly reckless -in regard to human life as in Ireland. After draining -all possible profit from his labourer's service he turns -him forth as a pauper, to get scant food if workhouse -officials choose to give it, and if not, to starve by the -wayside. The last great famine was the direct result -of this accursed system of slavery. It was oppression -of the worst kind that reduced the mass of the people -to depend for their subsistence upon the success or -failure of the potato crop; and the horrors that followed -the failure of the crop were as much the results -of misgovernment as the crimes of the French Revolution -were the consequences of feudal tyranny, too long -endured. Can England ever accomplish sufficient -penance for her savage treatment of Ireland?</p> - -<p class="i1">Some English writers admit that the degradation of -the Irish and the wretched condition of the country -can scarcely be overdrawn, but seek for the causes of -this state of things in the character of the people. -But why does the Irishman work, prosper, and achieve -wealth and position under every other government but -that of Ireland? This would not hbe the case if there -was any thing radically wrong in the Irish nature. In -the following extract from an article in the Edinburgh -Review, we have a forcible sketch of the condition -of Ireland, coloured somewhat to suit English -views:—</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_363" id="Page_363">[Pg 363]</a></span></p> - -<div class="bq"> - -<p class="i1">"It is obvious that the insecurity of a community in which the -bulk of the population form a conspiracy against the law, must -prevent the importation of capital; must occasion much of what -is accumulated there to be exported; and must diminish the motives -and means of accumulation. Who will send his property to -a place where he cannot rely on its being protected? Who will -voluntarily establish himself in a country which to-morrow may -be in a state of disturbance? A state in which, to use the words -of Chief Justice Bushe, 'houses and barns and granaries are -levelled, crops are laid waste, pasture-lands are ploughed, plantations -are torn up, meadows are thrown open to cattle, cattle are -maimed, tortured, killed; persons are visited by parties of banditti, -who inflict cruel torture, mutilate their limbs, or beat them -almost to death. Men who have in any way become obnoxious -to the insurgents, or opposed their system, or refused to participate -in their outrages, are deliberately assassinated in the open -day; and sometimes the unoffending family are indiscriminately -murdered by burning the habitation.'<a name="FNanchor_96_96" id="FNanchor_96_96"></a> -<a href="#Footnote_96_96" class="fnanchor">[96]</a> A state in which even -those best able to protect themselves, the gentry, are forced to -build up all their lower windows with stone and mortar; to admit -light only into one sitting-room, and not into all the windows -of that room; to fortify every other inlet by bullet-proof barricades; -to station sentinels around during all the night and the -greater part of the day, and to keep firearms in all the bedrooms, -and even on the side-table at breakfast and dinner-time.<a name="FNanchor_97_97" -id="FNanchor_97_97"></a><a href="#Footnote_97_97" class="fnanchor">[97]</a> -Well might Bishop Doyle exclaim, 'I do not blame the absentees; -I would be an absentee myself if I could.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"The state of society which has been described may be considered -as a proof of the grossest ignorance; for what can be a -greater proof of ignorance than a systematic opposition to law, -carried on at the constant risk of liberty and of life, and producing -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_364" id="Page_364">[Pg 364]</a></span> -where it is most successful, in the rural districts, one level -of hopeless poverty, and in the towns, weeks of high wages and -months without employment—a system in which tremendous -risks and frightful sufferings are the means, and general misery -is the result? The ignorance, however, which marks the greater -part of the population in Ireland, is not merely ignorance of the -moral and political tendency of their conduct—an ignorance in -which the lower orders of many more advanced communities participate—but -ignorance of the businesses which are their daily -occupations. It is ignorance, not as citizens and subjects, but as -cultivators and labourers. They are ignorant of the proper rotation -of crops, of the preservation and use of manure—in a word, -of the means by which the land, for which they are ready to -sacrifice their neighbours' lives, and to risk their own, is to be -made productive. Their manufactures, such as they are, are -rude and imperfect, and the Irish labourer, whether peasant or -artisan, who emigrates to Great Britain, never possesses skill -sufficient to raise him above the lowest ranks in his trade.</p> - -<p class="i1">"Indolence—the last of the causes to which we have attributed -the existing misery of Ireland—is not so much an independent -source of evil as the result of the combination of all others. The -Irishman does not belong to the races that are by nature averse -from toil. In England, Scotland, or America he can work hard. -He is said, indeed, to require more overlooking than the natives -of any of these countries, and to be less capable, or, to speak -more correctly, to be less willing to surmount difficulties by patient -intellectual exertion; but no danger deters, no disagreeableness -disgusts, no bodily fatigue discourages him.</p> - -<p class="i1">"But in his own country he is indolent. All who have compared -the habits of hired artisans or of the agricultural labourers -in Ireland with those of similar classes in England or Scotland, -admit the inferiority of industry of the former. The indolence -of the great mass of the people, the occupiers of land, is obvious -even to the passing traveller. Even in Ulster, the province in -which, as we have already remarked, the peculiarities of the -Irish character are least exhibited, not only are the cabins, and -even the farm-houses, deformed within and without by accumulations -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_365" id="Page_365">[Pg 365]</a></span> -of filth, which the least exertion would remove, but the land -itself is suffered to waste a great portion of its productive power. -We have ourselves seen field after field in which the weeds -covered as much space as the crops. From the time that his -crops are sowed and planted until they are reaped the peasant -and his family are cowering over the fire, or smoking, or lounging -before the door, when an hour or two a day employed in weeding -their potatoes, oats, or flax, would perhaps increase the produce -by one-third.</p> - -<p class="i1">"The indolence of the Irish artisan is sufficiently accounted for -by the combinations which, by prohibiting piece-work, requiring -all the workmen to be paid by the day and at the same rate, prohibiting -a good workman from exerting himself, have destroyed -the motives to industry. 'I consider it,' says Mr. Murray, 'a -very hard rule among them, that the worst workman that ever -took a tool in his hand, should be paid the same as the best, but -that is the rule and regulation of the society; and that there was -only a certain quantity of work allowed to be done; so that, if -one workman could turn more work out of his hands, he durst -not go on with it. There is no such thing as piece-work; and if -a bad man is not able to get through his work, a good workman -dare not go further than he does.'<a name="FNanchor_98_98" id="FNanchor_98_98"></a> -<a href="#Footnote_98_98" class="fnanchor">[98]</a></p> - -<p class="i1">"The indolence of the agricultural labourer arises, perhaps, -principally from his labour being almost always day-work, and -in a great measure a mere payment of debt—a mere mode of -working out his rent. That of the occupier may be attributed to -a combination of causes. In the first place, a man must be master -of himself to a degree not common even among the educated -classes, before he can be trusted to be his own task-master. -Even among the British manufacturers, confessedly the most industrious -labourers in Europe, those who work in their own -houses are comparatively idle and irregular, and yet they work -under the stimulus of certain and immediate gain. The Irish -occupier, working for a distant object, dependent in some -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_366" id="Page_366">[Pg 366]</a></span> -measure on the seasons, and with no one to control or even to -advise him, puts off till to-morrow what need not necessarily be -done to-day—puts off till next year what need not necessarily be -done this year, and ultimately leaves much totally undone.</p> - -<p class="i1">"Again, there is no damper so effectual as liability to taxation -proportioned to the means of payment. It is by this instrument -that the Turkish government has destroyed the industry, the -wealth, and ultimately the population of what were once the -most flourishing portions of Asia—perhaps of the world. It is -thus that the <i>taille</i> ruined the agriculture of the most fertile portions -of France. Now, the Irish occupier has long been subject -to this depressive influence, and from various sources. The competition -for land has raised rents to an amount which can be paid -only under favourable circumstances. Any accident throws the -tenant into an arrear, and the arrear is kept a subsisting charge, -to be enforced if he should appear capable of paying it. If any -of the signs of prosperity are detected in his crop, his cabin, his -clothes, or his food, some old demand may be brought up against -him. Again, in many districts a practice prevails of letting land -to several tenants, each of whom is responsible for the whole rent. -It is not merely the consequence, but the intention, that those who -can afford to pay should pay for those who cannot. Again, it is -from taxation, regulated by apparent property, that all the revenues -of the Irish Catholic Church are drawn. The half-yearly -offerings, the fees on marriages and christenings, and, what -is more important, the contributions to the priests made on -those occasions by the friends of the parties, are all assessed by -public opinion, according to the supposed means of the payer. -An example of the mode in which this works, occurred a few -months ago, within our own knowledge. £300 was wanted by a -loan fund, in a Catholic district in the North of Ireland. In the -night, one of the farmers, a man apparently poor, came to his landlord, -the principal proprietor in the neighbourhood, and offered -to lend the money, if the circumstance could be kept from his -priest. His motive for concealment was asked, and he answered, -that, if the priest knew he had £300 at interest, his dues would -be doubled. Secrecy was promised, and a stocking was brought -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_367" id="Page_367">[Pg 367]</a></span> -from its hiding-place in the roof, filled with notes and coin, which -had been accumulating for years until a secret investment could -be found. Again, for many years past a similar taxation has existed -for political purposes. The Catholic rent, the O'Connell -tribute, and the Repeal rent, like every other tax that is unsanctioned -by law, must be exacted, to a larger or smaller amount, -from every <i>cottier</i>, or farmer, as he is supposed to be better or -worse able to provide for them.</p> - -<p class="i1">"Who can wonder that the cultivator, who is exposed to these -influences, should want the industry and economy which give -prosperity to the small farmer in Belgium? What motive has he -for industry and economy? It may be said that he has the same -motive in kind, though not in degree, as the inhabitants of a happier -country; since the new demand to which any increase of his -means would expose him probably would not exhaust the whole -of that increase. The same might be said of the subjects of the -Pasha. There are inequalities of fortune among the cultivators -of Egypt, just as there were inequalities in that part of France -which was under the <i>taille</i>. No taxation ever exhausted the whole -surplus income of all its victims. But when a man cannot calculate -the extent to which the exaction may go—when all he knows -is, that the more he appears to have the more will be demanded—when -he knows that every additional comfort which he is seen to -enjoy, and every additional productive instrument which he is -found to possess, may be a pretext for a fresh extortion, he turns -careless or sulky—he yields to the strong temptation of indolence -and of immediate excitement and enjoyment—he becomes less -industrious, and therefore produces less—he becomes less frugal, -and therefore, if he saves at all, saves a smaller portion of that -smaller product."</p></div> - -<p class="i1">For the turbulence of the Irish people, the general -indolence of the labourers and artisans, and the misery -that exists, the writer of the above sketch has causes -worthy of the acuteness of Sir James Graham, or some -other patent political economist of the aristocracy of -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_368" id="Page_368">[Pg 368]</a></span> -England. We need not comment. We have only made -the above quotation to show to what a condition Ireland -has been reduced, according to the admissions of an -aristocratic organ of England, leaving the reader acquainted -with the history of English legislation in regard -to the unhappy island to make the most natural -inferences.</p> - -<p class="i1">The ecclesiastical system of Ireland has long been -denounced as an injury and an insult. As an insult it -has no parallel in history. Oppression and robbery in -matters connected with religion have been unhappily -frequent; but in all other cases the oppressed and -robbed have been the minority. That one-tenth of the -population of a great country should appropriate to -themselves the endowment originally provided for all -their countrymen; that, without even condescending to -inquire whether there were or were not a congregation -of their own persuasion to profit by them, they should -seize the revenues of every benefice, should divert them -from their previous application, and should hand them -over to an incumbent of their own, to be wasted as a -sinecure if they were not wanted for the performance -of a duty—this is a treatment of which the contumely -stings more sharply even than the injustice, enormous -as that is.<a name="FNanchor_99_99" id="FNanchor_99_99"></a> -<a href="#Footnote_99_99" class="fnanchor">[99]</a></p> - -<p class="i1">The tax of a tithe for the support of a church in -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_369" id="Page_369">[Pg 369]</a></span> -which they have no faith is a grievance of which Irish -Catholics, who compose nine-tenths of the population -of Ireland, complain with the greatest reason. Of -what benefit to them is a church which they despise? -The grand reason for the existence of an established -church fails under such circumstances. The episcopal -institutions can communicate no religious instruction, -because the creed which they sustain is treated with -contempt. But where is the use of argument in regard -to this point. The Established Church affords many -luxurious places for the scions of the aristocracy, and -there lies the chief purpose of its existence. The oppressive -taxation of Catholics to support a Protestant -church will cease with the aristocracy.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_370" id="Page_370">[Pg 370]</a></span></p> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VIII" id="CHAPTER_VIII"></a>CHAPTER VIII.</h2> -</div> - -<p class="ac">THE MENIAL SLAVES OF GREAT BRITAIN.</p> - - -<p class="i1"><span class="sc">The</span> spirit of British institutions is nowhere more -plainly and offensively manifested than in the treatment -which domestic servants receive. The haughty -bearing, the constant display of supreme contempt, -and the frequency of downright cruelty on the part of -the master or mistress, and the complete abasement -and submission of the servant, have been repeatedly -subjects of observation, and show clearly that the days -of "lord and thrall" are vividly remembered in Great -Britain. In Miss Martineau's "Society in America," -we find some observations to the point. She says—</p> - -<div class="bq"> - -<p class="i1">"However fascinating to Americans may be the luxury, conversational -freedom, and high intellectual cultivation of English -society, they cannot fail to be disgusted with the aristocratic insolence -which is the vice of the whole. The puerile and barbaric -spirit of contempt is scarcely known in America; the -English insolence of class to class, of individuals toward each -other, is not even conceived of, except in the one highly disgraceful -instance of the treatment of people of colour. Nothing in -American civilization struck me so forcibly and so pleasurably -as the invariable respect paid to man, as man. Nothing since -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_371" id="Page_371">[Pg 371]</a></span> -my return to England has given me so much pain as the contrast -there. Perhaps no Englishman can become fully aware, without -going to America, of the atmosphere of insolence in which he -dwells; of the taint of contempt which infects all the intercourses -of his world. He cannot imagine how all he can say that is -truest and best about the treatment of people of colour in America, -is neutralized on the spot by its being understood how the -same contempt is spread over the whole of society here, which is -there concentrated upon the blacks."</p></div> - -<p class="i1">It has been remarked that those who are most submissive -as serfs are the most arrogant and tyrannical -as lords. In Great Britain, from dukes down to workhouse -officials, the truth of this remark is obvious. -Each class treats its superior with abject deference, -and its inferior with overbearing insolence. The corollary -of our quotation from Miss Martineau is that the -treatment masters give to their negro slaves in America, -in their common intercourse, is what masters give to -their servants in Great Britain. In the free States of -America a master may command his servant, and if -obedience is refused he may deduct from his wages or -give him a discharge, but the laws prevent all violence; -the man is never forgotten in the servant. Another -state of affairs is to be found in Great Britain. The -laws are inadequate in their construction and too costly -in their administration to protect the poor servant. -Should he refuse obedience, or irritate his master in -any way, his punishment is just as likely to be kicks and -blows as a discharge or a reduction of wages. Englishmen -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_372" id="Page_372">[Pg 372]</a></span> -have frequently complained, while doing business -in the United States, because they were prevented from -striking refractory persons in their employ. In attempting -to act out their tyrannical ideas, such employers -have been severely chastised by their free, -republican servants.</p> - -<p class="i1">What the serf of the feudal baron in the twelfth century -was, the servant of modern days is, in the eyes of -the lords and ladies of Great Britain. Between these -aristocrats and their retainers there exists no fellow-feeling; -the ties of our common brotherhood are -snapped asunder, and a wide and startling gap intervenes. -"Implicit obedience to commands, and a submissive, -respectful demeanour on the one hand, are -repaid by orders given in the most imperative tone, to -perform the most degrading offices, and by a contemptuous, -haughty demeanour on the other hand. In -the servant the native dignity of our nature is for the -time broken and crushed. In the master the worst -passion of our nature is exhibited in all its hideous deformity. -The spirit that dictated the expression, 'I -am the porcelain, you are only the common clay,' is not -confined to the original speaker, but, with few exceptions, -is very generally participated in. It is not, -however, solely by the aristocratic class that the servant -is treated with such contumely, the fault is largely -participated in by the middle and working classes. -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_373" id="Page_373">[Pg 373]</a></span> -The feelings of the English people are essentially aristocratic."<a name="FNanchor_100_100" -id="FNanchor_100_100"></a><a href="#Footnote_100_100" class="fnanchor">[100]</a></p> - -<p class="i1">Until recently an order was placed at the entrance -to Kensington Gardens, which read as follows:—"<i>No -Dogs or Livery Servants admitted</i>." What more conclusive -evidence of the degraded condition of menial -servants in Great Britain could be obtained. A fellow-man, -of good character—a necessary conclusion from -his being in a situation—is placed on a level with -brutes. The livery seems as much the badge of slavery -in the nineteenth century as the collar of iron was in -the days of baron and villain. It is a bar to the reception -of a servant in any genteel society, and thus constantly -reminds him of his debased condition. He can -have but little hope of improving that condition, when -all intercourse with persons of superior fortune or -attainments is so effectually prevented. A menial he -is, and menials must his children be, unless they should -meet with extraordinary fortune. The following letter -of a footman recently appeared in the "Times" newspaper. -It is manly, and to the point.</p> - -<div class="bq"> - -<p class="i1">"Many articles having appeared in your paper under the term -'Flunkeyana,' all depreciatory of poor flunkeys, may I be allowed -to claim a fair and impartial hearing on the other side? I am a -footman, a liveried flunkey, a pampered menial—terms which -one Christian employs to another, simply because he is, by the -Almighty Dispenser of all things, placed, in his wisdom, lower -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_374" id="Page_374">[Pg 374]</a></span> -in life than the other. Not yet having seen any defence of -servants, may I trust to your candour and your generosity to -insert this humble apology for a set of men constrained by circumstances -to earn their living by servitude? The present cry -seems to be to lower their wages. I will state simply a few broad -facts. I am a footman in a family in which I have lived thirteen -years. My master deems my services worth 24 guineas a year. -The question is, is this too much? I will strike the average of -expenditure. I am very economical, it is considered. I find for -washing I pay near £6 a year; shoes, £4 10<i>s.</i>; tea and sugar, -£2 12<i>s.</i>; wearing apparel, say £4 4<i>s.</i>; for books—I am a reader—I -allow myself £1 7<i>s.</i> You will see this amounts to £18 7<i>s.</i> -each year. I include nothing for amusement of any kind, but -say 13<i>s.</i> yearly. I thus account for £19 yearly, leaving £6 for -savings. One or two other things deserve, I think, a slight notice. -What is the character required of a mechanic or labourer? -None. What of a servant? Is he honest, sober, steady, religious, -cleanly, active, industrious, an early riser? Is he married? Wo -be to the poor fellow who does not answer yes to this category of -requests, save the last! The answer is, Your character does not -suit; you will not do for me. Again: does a servant forget himself -for once only, and get tipsy?—he is ruined for life. In a -word, sir, a thorough servant must be sober, steady, honest, and -single; 'he must never marry, must never be absent from his duties, -must attend to his master in sickness or in health, must be -reviled and never reply, must be young, able, good-tempered, -and willing, and think himself overpaid, if at the year's end he -has 5<i>s.</i> to put in his pocket. In old age or sickness he may go -to the workhouse, the only asylum open. In youth he has plenty -of the best, and can get one service when he leaves another, if -his character is good; but when youth deserts him, and age and -sickness creep on, what refuge is there for him? No one will -have him. He is too old for service, that is his answer. In service -he is trusted with valuable articles of every description; and -in what state of life, whether servant or artisan, surely he who is -placed in situations of trust deserves a trifle more of recompense -than is sufficient to pay his way and no more."</p></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_375" id="Page_375">[Pg 375]</a></span></p> - -<p class="i1">We have mentioned, in other chapters, some instances -of the cruel treatment of parish children apprenticed -to trades. We have also evidence that those -who are hound out as servants are subjected to the most -brutal tyranny. Occasionally, when the cases become -so outrageous as to be noised abroad, investigations are -held; but these instances are few compared with the -vast number of cases of cruel treatment of which the -public are permitted to hear nothing.</p> - -<p class="i1">In the latter part of December, 1850, one Mr. Sloane, -a special pleader, residing in the Middle Temple, was -guilty of the most frightful cruelty to a servant-girl -named Jane Wilbred, formerly an inmate of the West -London Union. The girl, or some of her friends, complained, -and Mr. Sloane was brought before Alderman -Humphrey, at Guildhall. During the examination, -evidence of the most brutal treatment of the poor girl -was given, and such was the nature of the statements -made on oath that the fury of the people was aroused. -Mr. Sloane was committed for trial. When he was -conveyed to the Compter the mob attacked the cab, and -seemed determined to apply Lynch law. But the -wretch was safely deposited in prison, through the exertions -of the police. He was tried, convicted, and -sentenced to imprisonment; but whether he served out -his sentence we are not informed. This was one case -of punishment for a thousand of impunity.</p> - -<p class="i1">So great was the indignation of the people at the developments -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_376" id="Page_376">[Pg 376]</a></span> -made upon the trial of Sloane, that some -measure of alleviation in regard to parish apprentices -and servants was deemed necessary. The Earl of -Carlisle, (late Lord Morpeth), brought in a bill in the -House of Commons, the object of which was to compel -the parish guardians and the binding magistrates to -watch over and protect the helpless servants and apprentices. -The bill was passed by Parliament; but it -is inoperative and ineffectual. Parish guardians are too -glad to get the children off their hands to take any -steps which might retard the desired consummation; -and the children can easily be prevented from making -complaints to magistrates by the threats of masters -and mistresses, and the common fear of consequences. -In this case, as in all legislation concerning the poor, -the Parliament of Great Britain has proceeded upon -the same principle as the physician who applies external -remedies for diseases which have internal causes. Instead -of endeavouring to remove the great causes of -pauperism—the monopolies of the aristocracy—it only -seeks to render the paupers easier in their condition.</p> - -<p class="i1">Mr. Mayhew, in his "London Labour and the London -Poor," shows that a large number of the vagrants -of London and other English cities, are young persons -who have been servants, and have run away in consequence -of ill-treatment. Rather than be constantly -treated as slaves, the boys prefer to be vagabonds and -the girls prostitutes. They then enjoy a wild kind of -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_377" id="Page_377">[Pg 377]</a></span> -freedom, which, with all its filth and vice, has some -share of pleasure, unknown to those who move at the -beck of a master or mistress, and live in constant dread -of the rod.</p> - -<p class="i1">In those countries where society is untainted with -aristocracy, the servant when performing duties is respected -as a human being—with a mind to think and a -heart to feel—one to be reprimanded or discharged -from service for neglect or positive wrong, but never -beaten as a soulless beast. In England, the servant, -to hold a place, must be a most abject, cringing, and -submissive slave. In some countries, the taint of negro -blood keeps a man always in the position of an inferior. -In England, the man of "serf blood," though he be a -Celt or Saxon, is ever treated as a hind by the man of -"noble blood;" and the possession of this same "noble -blood" justifies the most infamous scoundrel in treating -his domestics, not only with contempt, but positive -cruelty. Americans have been charged with having an -undying horror of the negro taint. In England, the -<i>common</i> blood is just as steadily abhorred by the dominant -class. The slavery of servants—their hopeless, -abject, and demoralizing condition—is the result, direct -and unmistakable, of the existence of the aristocracy. -When the serfs are completely freed; when the country -is no longer ruled by a few thousand persons; when a -long line of ancestry and magnificent escutcheons cease -to dignify imbeciles and blackguards; in short, when -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_378" id="Page_378">[Pg 378]</a></span> -England takes a few steps upon that glorious path -which the great American republic has hewn for the -nations of the earth—there will be sure respect for man, -as man; and the servants may have some hope of improving -their condition.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_379" id="Page_379">[Pg 379]</a></span></p> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IX" id="CHAPTER_IX"></a>CHAPTER IX.</h2> -</div> - -<p class="ac">MENTAL AND MORAL CONDITION OF THE WHITE SLAVES -IN GREAT BRITAIN.</p> - - -<p class="i1"><span class="sc">The</span> moral degradation and mental darkness of the -labouring classes in Great Britain in the middle of -the Nineteenth century, are appalling to contemplate. -Beneath the wing of a government professedly Christian, -there is sheltered a vast number of people who -must be characterized as heathen—as fit subjects of -missionary labours, such as are freely given to the dark -sons of India and Africa. They know nothing of God -but his prevailing name; and the Bible's light is hid -from them as completely as if its pages were inscribed -with Egyptian hieroglyphics. Their code of morals is -the creature of their sensual inclinations; their intelligence -seemingly the superior instinct of the animal. -Scotland is far beyond other portions of Great Britain -in the moral and mental cultivation of its people; but -there is a large class in that country to which the above -observations may be justly applied.</p> - -<p class="i1">According to Kay, more than half the poor in England -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_380" id="Page_380">[Pg 380]</a></span> -and Wales cannot read and write, while the majority -of the remainder know nothing of science, history, -geography, music, or drawing, and very little of -the Scripture history. In the great mercantile and -manufacturing towns, it is true that poor men, if they -defer their marriage, and have no extraordinary encumbrances, -may improve their condition; but scarcely -any facilities are offered for their acquiring the intelligence -necessary for the control of passion. The schools -in the towns are wretchedly arranged and managed. -Many are nothing more than "dame schools," conducted -often in cellars or garrets, by poor women, who -know how to read, but who often know nothing else. -The schools for the peasants are still fewer in number, -and inefficient in character; and hence the result, that -the English peasantry are more ignorant and demoralized, -less capable of helping themselves, and -more pauperized, than those of any other country in -Europe, if we except Russia, Turkey, South Italy, and -some parts of the Austrian Empire. A writer in a -recent number of "Household Words," makes some -remarkable statements in regard to the ignorance of -the English masses:—</p> - -<div class="bq"> - -<p class="i1">"Wherever we turn, ignorance, not always allied to poverty, -stares us in the face. If we look in the Gazette, at the list of -partnerships dissolved, not a month passes but some unhappy -man, rolling perhaps in wealth, but wallowing in ignorance, is put -to the <i>experimentum crucis</i> of 'his mark,' The number of petty -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_381" id="Page_381">[Pg 381]</a></span> -jurors—in rural districts especially—who can only sign with a -cross is enormous. It is not unusual to see parish documents of -great local importance defaced with the same humiliating symbol -by persons whose office shows them to be not only 'men of mark,' -but men of substance. We have printed already specimens of -the partial ignorance which passes under the ken of the post-office -authorities, and we may venture to assert, that such specimens -of penmanship and orthography are not to be matched in -any other country in Europe. A housewife in humble life need -only turn to the file of her tradesmen's bills to discover hieroglyphics -which render them so many arithmetical puzzles. In -short, the practical evidences of the low ebb to which the plainest -rudiments of education in this country has fallen, are too common -to bear repetition. We cannot pass through the streets, we -cannot enter a place of public assembly, or ramble in the fields, -without the gloomy shadow of Ignorance sweeping over us. The -rural population is indeed in a worse plight than the other -classes. We quote—with the attestation of our own experience—the -following passage from one of a series of articles which have -recently appeared in a morning newspaper: 'Taking the adult -class of agricultural labourers, it is almost impossible to exaggerate -the ignorance in which they live and move and have their -being. As they work in the fields, the external world has some -hold upon them through the medium of their senses; but to all -the higher exercises of intellect they are perfect strangers. You -cannot address one of them without being at once painfully -struck with the intellectual darkness which enshrouds him. -There is in general neither speculation in his eyes nor intelligence -in his countenance. The whole expression is more that of -an animal than of a man. He is wanting, too, in the erect and -independent bearing of a man. When you accost him, if he is -not insolent—which he seldom is—he is timid and shrinking, his -whole manner showing that he feels himself at a distance from -you greater than should separate any two classes of men. He is -often doubtful when you address, and suspicious when you question -him; he is seemingly oppressed with the interview while it -lasts, and obviously relieved when it is over. These are the traits -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_382" id="Page_382">[Pg 382]</a></span> -which I can affirm them to possess as a class, after having come -in contact with many hundreds of farm labourers. They belong -to a generation for whose intellectual culture little or nothing was -done. As a class, they have no amusements beyond the indulgence -of sense. In nine cases out of ten, recreation is associated -in their minds with nothing higher than sensuality. I have frequently -asked clergymen and others, if they often find the adult -peasant reading for his own or others' amusement? The invariable -answer is, that such a sight is seldom or never witnessed. -In the first place, <i>the great bulk of them cannot read</i>. In the next, -a large proportion of those who can, do so with too much difficulty -to admit of the exercise being an amusement to them. -Again, few of those who can read with comparative ease, have -the taste for doing so. It is but justice to them to say that many -of those who cannot read have bitterly regretted, in my hearing, -their inability to do so. I shall never forget the tone in which an -old woman in Cornwall intimated to me what a comfort it would -now be to her could she only read her Bible in her lonely -hours.'"</p></div> - -<p class="i1">From statistics given by Kay, it is apparent that the -proportional amount of crime to population, calculated -in two years, 1841 and 1847, was greater in almost all -the agricultural counties of England than it was in the -mining and manufacturing districts. The peasants of -England must be subjected to a singularly demoralizing -system to produce so terrible a result. The extreme -poverty of the agricultural labourers is the great stimulant -to crime of all kinds; but the darkness of ignorance -is also a powerful agent. Poverty renders the peasants -desperate, and they are too ignorant to see the consequences -of crime.</p> - -<p class="i1">In a former part of this work, it was mentioned that -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_383" id="Page_383">[Pg 383]</a></span> -the miserable cottages in which the peasants are compelled -to reside have considerable influence in demoralizing -them. This deserves to be fully illustrated. -The majority of the cottages have but two small rooms; -in one of which husband and wife, young men and -young women, boys and girls, and, very often, a married -son and his wife all sleep together. Kay says—</p> - -<div class="bq"> - -<p class="i1">"The accounts we receive from all parts of the country show -that these miserable cottages are crowded to an extreme, and that -the crowding is progressively increasing. People of both sexes, -and of all ages, both married and unmarried—parents, brothers, -sisters, and strangers—sleep in the same rooms and often in the -same beds. One gentlemen tells us of six people of different sexes -and ages, two of whom were man and wife, sleeping in the same -bed, three with their heads at the top and three with their heads -at the foot of the bed. Another tells us of adult uncles and nieces -sleeping in the same room close to each other; another, of the -uncles and nieces sleeping in the same bed together; another, of -adult brothers and sisters sleeping in the same room with a -brother and his wife just married; many tell us of adult brothers -and sisters sleeping in the same beds; another tells us of rooms -so filled with beds that there is no space between them, but that -brothers, sisters, and parents crawl over each other half naked in -order to get to their respective resting-places; another, of its being -common for men and women, not being relations, to undress together -in the same room, without any feeling of its being indelicate; -another, of cases where women have been delivered in bedrooms -crowded with men, young women, and children; and others mention -facts of these crowded bedrooms much too horrible to be -alluded to. Nor are these solitary instances, but similar reports -are given by gentlemen writing in <span class="sc">ALL</span> parts of the country."</p></div> - -<p class="i1">The young peasants from their earliest years are -accustomed to sleep in the same bedrooms with people -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_384" id="Page_384">[Pg 384]</a></span> -of both sexes; and they lose all sense of the indecency -of such a life, taking wives before they are twenty years -of age to sleep in the same room with their parents. -The policy now pursued by the aristocratic landlords, -of clearing their estates, tends to crowd the cottages -which are allowed to remain, and thus the demoralization -of the peasantry is stimulated. Adultery is the -very mildest form of the vast amount of crime which it -is engendering. Magistrates, clergymen, surgeons, and -parish-officers bear witness that cases of incest are increasing -in all parts of the country. An eminent -writer represents the consequences of the state of the -peasant's cottages in England and Wales in the following -startling, but unexaggerated terms:—</p> - -<div class="bq"> - -<p class="i1">"A man and woman intermarry, and take a cottage. In eight -cases out of ten it is a cottage with but two rooms. For a time, -so far as room at least is concerned, this answers their purpose; -but they take it, not because it is at the time sufficiently spacious -for them, but because they could not procure a more roomy dwelling, -even if they desired it. In this they pass with tolerable comfort, -considering their notions of what comfort is, the first period -of married life; but, by-and-by they have children, and the family -increases, until, in the course of a few years, they number, perhaps, -from eight to ten individuals. But in all this time there -has been no increase to their household accommodation. As at -first, so to the very last, there is but the <span class="sc">ONE SLEEPING-ROOM</span>. As -the family increases, additional beds are crammed into this apartment, -until at last it is so filled with them, that there is scarcely -room left to move between them. <i>I have known instances in which -they had to crawl over each other to get to their beds.</i> So long as -the children are very young, the only evil connected with this is -the physical one arising from crowding so many people together -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_385" id="Page_385">[Pg 385]</a></span> -into what is generally a dingy, frequently a damp, and invariably -an ill-ventilated apartment. But years steal on, and the family -continues thus bedded together. Some of its members may yet -be in their infancy, but others of both sexes have crossed the line -of puberty. But there they are, still together in the same room—the -father and mother, the sons and the daughters—young men, -young women, and children. Cousins, too, of both sexes, are -often thrown together into the same room, <i>and not unfrequently into -the same bed</i>. I have also known of cases in which uncles slept -in the same room with their grown-up nieces, and newly-married -couples occupied the same chamber with those long married, and -with others marriageable but unmarried. A case also came to -my notice, already alluded to in connection with another branch -of the subject, in which two sisters, who were married on the -same day, occupied adjoining rooms in the same hut, with nothing -but a thin board partition, which did not reach the ceiling, between -the two rooms, and a door in the partition which only -partly filled up the doorway. For years back, in these same two -rooms, have slept twelve people of both sexes and all ages. -Sometimes, when there is but one room, a praiseworthy effort is -made for the conservation of decency. But the hanging up of a -piece of tattered cloth between the beds, which is generally all -that is done in this respect, and even that but seldom, is but a -poor set-off to the fact, that a family, which, in common decency, -should, as regards sleeping accommodations, be separated at least -into three divisions, occupy, night after night, but one and the -same chamber. This is a frightful position for them to be in -when an infectious or epidemic disease enters their abode. But -this, important though it be, is the least important consideration -connected with their circumstances. That which is most so, is -the effect produced by them upon their habits and morals. In -the illicit intercourse to which such a position frequently gives -rise, <i>it is not always that the tie of blood is respected</i>. Certain it -is, that when the relationship is even but one degree removed -from that of brother and sister, that tie is frequently overlooked. -And when the circumstances do not lead to such horrible consequences, -the mind, particularly of the female, is wholly divested -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_386" id="Page_386">[Pg 386]</a></span> -of that sense of delicacy and shame, which, so long as they are -preserved, are the chief safeguards of her chastity. She therefore -falls an early and an easy prey to the temptations which beset -her beyond the immediate circle of her family. People in the -other spheres of life are but little aware of the extent to which -this precocious demoralization of the female among the lower -orders in the country has proceeded. But how could it be otherwise? -The philanthropist may exert himself in their behalf, the -moralist may inculcate even the worldly advantages of a better -course of life, and the minister of religion may warn them of the -eternal penalties which they are incurring; but there is an instructor -constantly at work, more potent than them all—an instructor -in mischief, of which they must get rid ere they can -make any real progress in their laudable efforts—and that is, <i>the -single bedchamber in the two-roomed cottage</i>."</p></div> - -<p class="i1">But such cottages will continue to be the dwellings -of the peasantry until the system of lord and serf is -abolished, until they can obtain ground of their own, -and have no fear of eviction at a moment's notice. It -has often been a matter of wonder that there is less discontent -and murmuring among the miserable peasants -than among the workmen in the manufacturing towns. -The reason lies upon the surface. The workmen in the -factories are generally more intelligent than the agricultural -labourers, and have a keen feeling of their -degradation. It requires a certain degree of elevation -to render a man discontented. The wallowing pig is -satisfied.</p> - -<p class="i1">We need not be surprised to find that where so much -misery prevails crime is frightfully frequent. The -"Times" of the 30th of November, 1849, shows the -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_387" id="Page_387">[Pg 387]</a></span> -terrible increase of crime in the last few years in Dorsetshire. -The "Times" says—</p> - -<div class="bq"> - -<p class="i1">"We yesterday published, in a very short compass, some grave -particulars of the unfortunate county of Dorset. It is not simply -the old story of wages inadequate for life, hovels unfit for habitation, -and misery and sin alternately claiming our pity and our -disgust. This state of things is so normal, and we really believe -so immemorial in that notorious county, that we should rather -deaden than excite the anxiety of the public by a thrice-told tale. -What compels our attention just now is a sudden, rapid, and, we -fear, a forced aggravation of these evils, measured by the infallible -test of crime. Dorsetshire is fast sinking into a slough of wretchedness, -which threatens the peace and morality of the kingdom at -large. The total number of convictions, which</p> - -<p class="ml5">"In 1846 was 798, and<br /> -"In 1847 was 821, mounted up,<br /> -"In 1848, to 950;</p> - -<p class="i1">"and up to the special general session, last Tuesday, (Dec. 1849,) -for less than eleven months of the present year, to the astonishing -number of 1193, being at the rate of 1300 for the whole year! -Unless something is done to stop this flood of crime, or the tide -happily turns of itself, the county will have more than <i>doubled</i> its -convictions within four years! Nor is it possible for us to take -refuge in the thought that the increase is in petty offences. In no -respect is it a light thing for a poor creature to be sent to jail, -whatever be the offence. He has broken the laws of his country, -and forfeited his character. His name and his morals are alike -tainted with the jail. He is degraded and corrupted. If his -spirit be not crushed, it is exasperated into perpetual hostility to -wealth and power.</p> - -<hr class="sect" /> - -<p class="i1">"It is, then, no light affair that a rural county, the abode of an -ancient and respectable aristocracy, somewhat removed from the -popular influences of the age, with a population of 175,043 by the -late census, should produce in four years near 4000 convictions, -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_388" id="Page_388">[Pg 388]</a></span> -being at the rate of one conviction in that period for every sixty -persons, or every twelve householders."</p></div> - -<p class="i1">We might express our doubts of the real respectability -of the ancient aristocracy of Dorsetshire. They -do not injure society in a way of which the laws take -notice; but had they nothing to do with the making -of the 4000 criminals? In 1834, an English writer -estimated that about 120,000 of the people were always -in jail. At the present time the number is still -greater.</p> - -<p class="i1">The humane and able author of "Letters on Rural -Districts," published in the "Morning Chronicle" of -London, thus speaks of the frightful immorality among -the agricultural population of Norfolk and Suffolk counties:—</p> - -<div class="bq"> - -<p class="i1">"One species of immorality, which is peculiarly prevalent in -Norfolk and Suffolk, is that of bastardy. With the exception of -Hereford and Cumberland, there are no counties in which the percentage -of bastardy is so high as it is in Norfolk—being there -53.1 per cent. above the average of England and Wales; in Suffolk -it is 27 per cent. above, and in Essex 19.1 per cent. below the -average. In the two first-named counties, and even in the latter -one, though not to the same extent, <i>there appears to be a perfect -want of decency among the people</i>. 'The immorality of the young -women,' said the rector of one parish to me, 'is literally horrible, -and I regret to say it is on the increase in a most extraordinary -degree. When I first came to the town, the mother of a bastard -child used to be ashamed to show herself. The case is now -quite altered; no person seems to think any thing at all of it. -When I first came to the town, there was no such thing as a -common prostitute in it; now there is an enormous number of -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_389" id="Page_389">[Pg 389]</a></span> -them. When I am called upon to see a woman confined with an -illegitimate child, I endeavour to impress upon her the enormity -of the offence; and there are no cases in which I receive more -insult from those I visit than from such persons. They generally -say they'll get on as well, after all that's said about it; and if they -never do any thing worse than that, they shall get to heaven as -well as other people.' Another clergyman stated to me, that he -never recollected an instance of his having married a woman who -was not either pregnant at the time of her marriage, or had had -one or more children before her marriage. Again, a third clergyman -told me, that he went to baptize the illegitimate child of one -woman, who was thirty-five years of age, and it was absolutely -impossible for him to convince her that what she had done was -wrong. 'There appears,' said he, 'to be among the lower orders -a perfect deadness of all moral feeling upon this subject.' Many -of the cases of this kind, which have come under my knowledge, -evince such horrible depravity, that I dare not attempt to lay them -before the reader. Speaking to the wife of a respectable labourer -on the subject, who had seven children, one of whom was then -confined with an illegitimate child, she excused her daughter's -conduct by saying, 'What was the poor girl to do! The chaps say -that they won't marry 'em first, and then the girls give way. I -did the same myself with my husband.' There was one case in -Cossey, in Norfolk, in which the woman told me, without a blush -crimsoning her cheek, that her daughter and self had each had -a child by a sweep, who lodged with them, and who promised -to marry the daughter. The cottage in which these persons slept -consisted of but one room, and there were two other lodgers who -occupied beds in the same room; in one of which 'a young woman -occasionally slept with the young man she was keeping company -with.' The other lodger was an old woman of seventy-four -years of age. To such an extent is prostitution carried on in -Norwich, that out of the 656 licensed public-houses and beer-shops -in the city, there are not less than 220, which are known to the -police as common brothels. And, although the authorities have -the power of withholding the licenses, nothing is done to put a -stop to the frightful vice."</p></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_390" id="Page_390">[Pg 390]</a></span></p> - -<p class="i1">A want of chastity is universal among the female -peasants of Wales, arising chiefly from the herding of -many persons in the small cottages. In the vicinity of -the mines, the average of inhabitants to a house is said -to be nearly twelve. The Rev. John Griffith, vicar of -Aberdare, says—</p> - -<div class="bq"> - -<p class="i1">"Nothing can be lower, I would say more degrading, than the -character in which the women stand relative to the men. The -men and the women, married as well as single, live in the same -house, <i>and sleep in the same room</i>. The men do not hesitate to -wash themselves naked before the women; on the other hand, the -women do not hesitate to change their under garments before the -men. Promiscuous intercourse is most common, is thought of as -nothing, and the women do not lose caste by it."</p></div> - -<p class="i1">The Welsh are peculiarly exempt from the guilt of -great crimes. But petty thefts, lying, cozening, every -species of chicanery and drunkenness are common -among the agricultural population, and are regarded as -matters of course.</p> - -<p class="i1">Infanticide is practised to a terrible extent in England -and Wales. In most of the large provincial towns, -"burial clubs" exist. A small sum is paid every year by -the parent, and this entitles him to receive from £3 to £5 -from the club on the death of the child. Many persons -enter their children in several clubs; and, as the burial -of the child does not necessarily cost more than £1, or -at the most £1 10<i>s.</i>, the parent realizes a considerable -sum after all the expenses are paid. For the sake of -this money, it has become common to cause the death -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_391" id="Page_391">[Pg 391]</a></span> -of the children, either by starvation, ill-usage, or poison. -No more horrible symptom of moral degradation could -be conceived.</p> - -<div class="bq"> - -<p class="i1">"Mr. Chadwick says,<a name="FNanchor_101_101" id="FNanchor_101_101"></a> -<a href="#Footnote_101_101" class="fnanchor">[101]</a> -'officers of these burial societies, relieving -officers, and others, whose administrative duties put them in -communication with the lowest classes in these districts, (the -manufacturing districts,) express their moral conviction of the -operation of such bounties to produce instances of the visible neglect -of children of which they are witnesses. They often say—You -are not treating that child properly, it will not live; <i>is it in -the club</i>? And the answer corresponds with the impression produced -by the sight.</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Mr. Gardiner, the clerk of the Manchester union, while -registering the causes of death, deemed the cause assigned by a -labouring man for the death of a child unsatisfactory, and staying -to inquire, found that popular rumour assigned the death to wilful -starvation. The child (according to a statement of the case) -had been entered in at least <i>ten</i> burial clubs; <i>and its parents had -had six other children, who only lived from nine to eighteen months -respectively</i>. They had received from several burial clubs twenty -pounds for <i>one</i> of these children, and they expected at least as -much on account of this child. An inquest was held at Mr. Gardiner's -instance, when several persons, who had known the deceased, -stated that she was a fine fat child shortly after her birth, -but that she soon became quite thin, was badly clothed, and -seemed as if she did not get a sufficiency of food.... The jury, -having expressed it as their opinion that the evidence of the -parents was made up for the occasion and entitled to no credit, -returned the following verdict:—Died through want of nourishment, -but whether occasioned by a deficiency of food, or by disease -of the liver and spine brought on by improper food and drink -or otherwise, does not appear.</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Two similar cases came before Mr. Coppock, the clerk and -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_392" id="Page_392">[Pg 392]</a></span> -superintendent-registrar of the Stockport union, in both of which -he prosecuted the parties for murder. In one case, where three -children had been poisoned with arsenic, the father was tried with -the mother and convicted at Chester, and sentenced to be transported -for life, but the mother was acquitted. In the other case, -where the judge summed up for a conviction, the accused, the -father, was, to the astonishment of every one, acquitted. In this -case the body was exhumed after interment, and <i>arsenic was -detected in the stomach</i>. In consequence of the suspicion raised -upon the death on which the accusation was made in the first -case, the bodies of two other children were taken up and examined, -when <i>arsenic was found in their stomachs</i>. In all these cases -payments on the deaths of the children were insured from the -burial clubs; the cost of the coffin and burial dues would not be -more than about one pound, and the allowance from the club is -three pounds.</p> - -<p class="i1">"'It is remarked on these dreadful cases by the superintendent-registrar, -<i>that the children who were boys, and therefore likely -to be useful to the parents, were not poisoned</i>; the female children -were the victims. It was the clear opinion of the medical officers -that infanticides have been committed in Stockport to obtain the -burial money.'"</p></div> - -<p class="i1">Such parents must be placed upon a level with the -swine that devour their farrow. We are led to doubt -whether they could sink much lower in the animal -scale; poverty and ignorance seem to have thoroughly -quenched the spark of humanity. The author of "Letters -on Labour, and the Poor in the Rural Districts," -writing of the burial clubs in the eastern counties, says:</p> - -<div class="bq"> - -<p class="i1">"The suspicion that a great deal of 'foul play' exists with respect -to these clubs is supported, not only by a comparison of the -different rates of mortality, but it is considerably strengthened -by the facts proved upon the trial of Mary May. The Rev. Mr. -Wilkins, the vicar of Wickes, who was mainly instrumental in -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_393" id="Page_393">[Pg 393]</a></span> -bringing the case before a court of justice, stated to me that, from -the time of Mary May coming to live in his parish, he was determined -to keep a very strict watch upon her movements, as he had -heard that <i>fourteen of her children had previously died suddenly</i>.</p> - -<p class="i1">"A few weeks after her arrival in his parish, she called upon -him to request him to bury one of her children. Upon his asking -her which of the children it was, she told him that it was Eliza, -a fine healthy-looking child of ten years old. Upon his expressing -some surprise that she should have died so suddenly, she said, -'Oh, sir, she went off like a snuff; all my other children did so -too.' A short time elapsed, and she again waited upon the vicar -to request him to bury her brother as soon as he could. His suspicions -were aroused, and he endeavoured to postpone the funeral -for a few days, in order to enable him to make some inquiries. -Not succeeding in obtaining any information which would warrant -further delay in burying the corpse, he most reluctantly -proceeded in the discharge of his duty.</p> - -<p class="i1">"About a week after the funeral, Mary May again waited upon -him to request him to sign a certificate to the effect that her brother -was in perfect health a fortnight before he died, that being -the time at which, as it subsequently appeared, she had entered -him as nominee in the Harwich Burial Club. Upon inquiring as -to the reason of her desiring this certificate, she told him that, -unless she got it, she could not get the money for him from the -club. This at once supplied the vicar with what appeared to be -a motive for 'foul play' on the part of the woman. He accordingly -obtained permission to have the body of her brother exhumed; -doses of arsenic were detected, and the woman was arrested. -With the evidence given upon the trial the reader is, no -doubt, perfectly conversant, and it will be unnecessary for me to -detail it. She was convicted. Previously to her execution she -refused to make any confession, but said, 'If I were to tell all -I know, it would give the hangman work for the next twelve -months.' Undue weight ought not to be attached to the declaration -of such a woman as Mary May; but, coupled with the disclosures -that took place upon the trial with respect to some of her -neighbours and accomplices, and with the extraordinary rate -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_394" id="Page_394">[Pg 394]</a></span> -of mortality among the clubs, it certainly does appear that the -general opinion with respect to the mischievous effects of these -societies is not altogether without foundation.</p> - -<p class="i1">"Although there are not in Essex, at present, any burial clubs -in which children are admitted under fourteen years of age as -members or nominees, still, as illustrating the evils arising from -these clubs, I may state that many persons who are fully conversant -with the working of such institutions have stated that they -have frequently been shocked by hearing women of the lower -classes, when speaking of a neighbour's child, make use of such -expressions as, 'Oh, depend upon it, the child'll not live; it's in -the burial club.' When speaking to the parents of a child who -may be unwell, it is not unfrequently that they say, 'You should -do so and so,' or, 'You should not do so and so;' '<i>You should -not treat it in that way; is it in the burial club</i>?' Instances of the -most culpable neglect, if not of graver offences, are continually -occurring in districts where clubs exist in which children are -admitted. A collector of one of the most extensive burial societies -gave it as his opinion, founded upon his experience, that it -had become a constant practice to neglect the children for the -sake of the allowance from the clubs; and he supported his -opinion by several cases which had come under his own observation."</p></div> - -<p class="i1">A vast number of other facts, of equally shocking -character, have been ascertained. The Rev. J. Clay, -chaplain of the Preston House of Correction, in a -sanitary report, makes some statements of a nature to -startle:—</p> - -<div class="bq"> - -<p class="i1">"It appears, on the unimpeachable authority of a burial-club -official, that '<i>hired nurses speculate on the lives of infants committed -to their care, by entering them in burial clubs</i>;' that 'two young -women proposed to enter a child into his club, and to pay the -weekly premium alternately. Upon inquiring as to the relation -subsisting between the two young women and the child, he learned -that the infant was placed at nurse with the mother of one of -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_395" id="Page_395">[Pg 395]</a></span> -these young women,' The wife of a clergymen told me that, -visiting a poor district just when a child's death had occurred, -instead of hearing from the neighbours the language of sympathy -for the bereaved parent, she was shocked by such observations -as—'Ah! it's a fine thing for the mother, the child's in two clubs!'</p> - -<p class="i1">"As regards one town, I possess some evidence of the amount -of burial-club membership and of infant mortality, which I beg -to lay before you. The reports of this town refer to 1846, when -the population of the town amounted to about 61,000. I do not -name the town, because, as no actual burial-club murders are -known to have been committed in it, and as such clubs are not -more patronized there than in other places, it is, perhaps, not -fair to hold it up to particular animadversion; indeed, as to its -general character, this very town need not fear comparison with -any other. Now this place, with its sixty-one thousand people -of all classes and ages, maintains at least eleven burial clubs, the -members of which amount in the aggregate to nearly fifty-two -thousand; nor are these all. Sick clubs, remember, act as burial -clubs. Of these there are twelve or fourteen in the town, mustering -altogether, probably, two thousand members. Here, then, -we have good data for comparing population with '<i>death lists</i>;' -but it will be necessary, in making the comparison, to deduct -from the population all that part of it which has nothing to do -with these clubs, viz. all infants under two months old, and all -persons of unsound health, (both of these classes being excluded -by the club rules;) all those also of the working classes, whose -sound intelligence and feeling lead them to abhor burial-club -temptations; and all the better classes, to whom five or twenty -pounds offer no consolation for the death of a child. On the -hypothesis that these deductions will amount to one-sixth of the -entire population, it results that the <i>death lists</i> are more numerous -by far than the entire mass—old, young, and infants—which support -them; and, according to the statement of a leading death-list -officer, <i>three-fourths</i> of the names on these catalogues of the doomed -are the names of children. Now, if this be the truth—and I believe -it is—hundreds, if not thousands of children must be entered -each into <i>four</i>, <i>five</i>, or even <i>twelve</i> clubs, their chances of life -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_396" id="Page_396">[Pg 396]</a></span> -diminishing, of course, in proportion to the frequency with which -they are entered. Lest you should imagine that such excessive -addiction to burial clubs is only to be found in one place, I -furnish you with a report for 1846, of a single club, which then -boasted thirty-four thousand one hundred members, <i>the entire -population of the town to which it belongs having been, in 1841, little -more than thirty-six thousand</i>!"</p></div> - -<p class="i1">The authorities from whom these statements are -derived are of the highest respectability; they hear -witness to a state of affairs scarcely to be conceived by -people of other civilized countries. Hundreds of thousands -of human beings seem to be driven into an awful -abyss of crime and misery by the iron rule of the aristocracy—an -abyss where mothers forget maternal feelings, -where marriage vows are scoffed, and where the -momentary gratification of brutal passions is alone -esteemed. There, indeed, there is no fear of God, and -heathenism spreads its upas shade to poison and destroy.</p> - -<p class="i1">The only amusement which the English poor possess -in many parts of the country, is to visit taverns. In -the towns the "gin-palaces" and the beer-houses are -very numerous; and whenever the poor have leisure, -these places are thronged by drunken men and abandoned -women. In all the rural districts there is a -frightful amount of drunkenness. British legislation -has increased the number of these hot-beds of crime -and pauperism.</p> - -<div class="bq"> - -<p class="i1">"In the beginning of the revolutionary war the duties on malt -were <i>augmented</i>, and in 1825 the duties on spirits were <i>decreased</i>. -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_397" id="Page_397">[Pg 397]</a></span> -It was thus that whisky was substituted for ale as the beverage -of the Scotch, and that gin and brandy began to be generally -drunk by the English poor.</p> - -<p class="i1">"The consumption of spirits immediately increased in a tremendous -proportion. From 4,132,263 gallons, the consumption -in 1825, it rose in one year to 8,888,648 gallons; that is, the consumption -was <i>in one year</i> more than <i>doubled</i> by the change; and -from that period, with the exception of the year next following, -viz. 1827, the consumption has been progressively augmenting.</p> - -<p class="i1">"Since that time the noted beer-shop act has been passed. By -that act, any one was enabled to obtain a license to enable him -to sell beer, whether the person desirous of doing so was a person -of respectable character or not.</p> - -<p class="i1">"But this was the least of the evils which were effected by that -act. A clause, which was still more injurious, was that which -prescribed that the liquor <i>must be drunk upon the premises of the -beer-house</i>, i. e. either in the beer-house or on a bench just outside -the door.</p> - -<p class="i1">"This has the effect in many cases, where the poor would -otherwise take the beer home to their own cottages, of forcing the -young men who wish to have a little to drink, to sit down and -take it in the society of the worst people of the neighbourhood, -who always, as a matter of course, spend their leisure in the -tavern. I am convinced that nothing can be more injurious in -its effects upon the poor than this clause. It may be said to -<i>force</i> the honest labourers into the society and companionship of -the most depraved, and so necessarily to demoralize the young -and honest labourer.</p> - -<p class="i1">"The following is the number of gallons of <i>native</i> proof spirits -on which duty was paid for home consumption in the United -Kingdom, in the undermentioned years:—</p> - -<table class="narrow" id="POPULATION_DECREASE-3" summary="Population Decrease"> - <tr> - <th>Years</th> - <th>Gallons.</th> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c1">1843</td> - <td class="c1">18,841,890</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c1">1844</td> - <td class="c1">20,608,525</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c1">1845</td> - <td class="c1">23,122,588</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c1">1846</td> - <td class="c1">24,106,697</td> - </tr> -</table> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_398" id="Page_398">[Pg 398]</a></span></p> - -<div class="bq"> - -<p class="i1">"To the above must be added the number of gallons of foreign -and colonial spirits retained for home consumption, as follows:—</p> - -<table class="narrow" id="FOREIGN_SPIRITS" summary="Foreign and Colonial Spirits "> - <tr> - <th>Years</th> - <th style="text-align:center;">No. of Gallons of Foreign, &c. Spirits.</th> - <th style="text-align:center;">No. of Gallons of Home and Foreign Spirits consumed in the - United Kingdom.</th> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c1">1843</td> - <td class="c3">3,161,957</td> - <td class="c3">22,026,289</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c1">1844</td> - <td class="c3">3,242,606</td> - <td class="c3">22,042,905</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c1">1845</td> - <td class="c3">3,549,889</td> - <td class="c3">26,672,477</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c1">1846</td> - <td class="c3">4,252,237</td> - <td class="c3">28,360,934</td> - </tr> -</table> - -<p class="i1">"From the above statistics it appears that the consumption -of spirits in the United Kingdom is increasing much more rapidly -than the population!</p> - -<p class="i1">"The number of licenses granted to retailers of spirits or beer -amounted, in 1845, to 237,345; that is, there was to be found, in -1845, a retailer of beer or spirits in every 115 of the population! -Of the beer licenses, 68,086 were for dwellings rated under £20 -per annum, and 35,340 were licenses for premises rated under -£10 per annum! This shows how large a proportion of the beer-shops -are situated in the poorest districts, for the use of the -poorest classes.<a name="FNanchor_102_102" id="FNanchor_102_102"></a> -<a href="#Footnote_102_102" class="fnanchor">[102]</a></p></div> - -<p class="i1">There is a section of London, which in 1847 had -2000 inhabitants, one butcher's shop, two bakers' -shops, and seventeen beer-houses. The total cost of -the spirits and beer consumed in the United Kingdom -was, in 1848, estimated at £65,000,000, a sum greater, -by several millions, than the whole revenue of the -government. The inimitable Dickens has given us a -vivid sketch of a London gin-palace and its attendants. -He says—</p> - -<div class="bq"> - -<p class="i1">"The extensive scale on which these places are established, -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_399" id="Page_399">[Pg 399]</a></span> -and the ostentatious manner in which the business of even the -smallest among them is divided into branches, is most amusing. -A handsome plate of ground glass in one door directs you 'To -the Counting-house;' another to the 'Bottle Department;' a third -to the 'Wholesale Department,' a fourth to the 'Wine Promenade;' -and so forth, until we are in daily expectation of meeting -with a 'Brandy Bell,' or a 'Whisky Entrance.' Then ingenuity -is exhausted in devising attractive titles for the different descriptions -of gin; and the dram-drinking portion of the community, -as they gaze upon the gigantic black and white announcements, -which are only to be equalled in size by the figures beneath them, -are left in a state of pleasing hesitation between 'The Cream of -the Valley,' 'The Out and Out,' 'The No Mistake,' 'The Good -for Mixing,' 'The real Knock-me-down,' 'The celebrated Butter -Gin,' 'The regular Flare-up,' and a dozen other equally inviting -and wholesome <i>liqueurs</i>. Although places of this description -are to be met with in every second street, they are invariably -numerous and splendid in precise proportion to the dirt and -poverty of the surrounding neighbourhood. The gin-shops in -and near Drury-lane, Holborn, St. Giles's, Covent-garden, and -Clare-market, are the handsomest in London. There is more of -filth and squalid misery near those great thoroughfares than in -any part of this mighty city.</p> - -<p class="i1">"We will endeavour to sketch the bar of a large gin-shop, and -its ordinary customers, for the edification of such of our readers -as may not have had opportunities of observing such scenes; and -on the chance of finding one well suited to our purpose we will -make for Drury-lane, through the narrow streets and dirty courts -which divide it from Oxford street, and that classical spot adjoining -the brewery at the bottom of Tottenham-court-road, best -known to the initiated as the 'Rookery.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"The filthy and miserable appearance of this part of London -can hardly be imagined by those (and there are many such) who -have not witnessed it. Wretched houses with broken windows -patched with rags and paper, every room let out to a different -family, and in many instances to two or even three; fruit and -'sweet-stuff' manufacturers in the cellars, barbers and red-herring -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_400" id="Page_400">[Pg 400]</a></span> -venders in the front parlours, and cobblers in the back; a -bird-fancier in the first floor, three families on the second, starvation -in the attics, Irishmen in the passage; a 'musician' in the -front kitchen, and a charwoman and five hungry children in the -back one—filth everywhere—a gutter before the houses and a -drain behind them—clothes drying and slops emptying from the -windows; girls of fourteen or fifteen with matted hair, walking -about barefooted, and in white great-coats, almost their only -covering; boys of all ages, in coats of all sizes and no coats at -all; men and women, in every variety of scanty and dirty apparel, -lounging, scolding, drinking, smoking, squabbling, fighting, -and swearing.</p> - -<p class="i1">"You turn the corner, what a change! All is light and brilliancy. -The hum of many voices issues from that splendid gin-shop -which forms the commencement of the two streets opposite, -and the gay building with the fantastically ornamented parapet, -the illuminated clock, the plate-glass windows surrounded by -stucco rosettes, and its profusion of gas-lights in richly gilt -burners, is perfectly dazzling when contrasted with the darkness -and dirt we have just left. The interior is even gayer than the -exterior. A bar of French polished mahogany, elegantly carved, -extends the whole width of the place; and there are two side-aisles -of great casks, painted green and gold, enclosed within a -light brass rail, and bearing such inscriptions as 'Old Tom, 549;' -'Young Tom, 360;' 'Samson, 1421.' Beyond the bar is a lofty -and spacious saloon, full of the same enticing vessels, with a gallery -running round it, equally well furnished. On the counter, -in addition to the usual spirit apparatus, are two or three little -baskets of cakes and biscuits, which are carefully secured at the -top with wicker-work, to prevent their contents being unlawfully -abstracted. Behind it are two showily-dressed damsels with -large necklaces, dispensing the spirits and 'compounds.' They -are assisted by the ostensible proprietor of the concern, a stout -coarse fellow in a fur cap, put on very much on one side, to give -him a knowing air, and display his sandy whiskers to the best -advantage.</p> - -<p class="i1">"It is growing late, and the throng of men, women, and children, -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_401" id="Page_401">[Pg 401]</a></span> -who have been constantly going in and out, dwindles down -to two or three occasional stragglers—cold, wretched-looking -creatures, in the last stage of emaciation and disease. The knot -of Irish labourers at the lower end of the place, who have been -alternately shaking hands with, and threatening the life of, each -other for the last hour, become furious in their disputes, and finding -it impossible to silence one man, who is particularly anxious -to adjust the difference, they resort to the infallible expedient of -knocking him down and jumping on him afterward. The man -in the fur cap and the potboy rush out; a scene of riot and confusion -ensues; half the Irishmen get shut out, and the other half -get shut in; the potboy is knocked among the tubs in no time; -the landlord hits everybody, and everybody hits the landlord; -the barmaids scream; the police come in; and the rest is a confused -mixture of arms, legs, staves, torn coats, shouting, and -struggling. Some of the party are borne off to the station-house, -and the remainder slink home to beat their wives for complaining, -and kick the children for daring to be hungry."</p></div> - -<p class="i1">The neglected and frightfully wretched condition of -a great part of the juvenile population in the British -towns has frequently excited the attention of philanthropic -Englishmen. On the 6th of June, 1848, Lord -Ashley made a speech on juvenile destitution in the -House of Commons, in which he drew an awful picture -of misery and degradation. He showed that in the -midst of London there is a large and continually increasing -number of lawless persons, forming a separate -class, having pursuits, interests, manners, and customs -of their own. These are quite independent of the -number of mere pauper children who crowd the streets -of London, and who never attend a school. The lawless -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_402" id="Page_402">[Pg 402]</a></span> -class were estimated by Lord Ashley to number -thirty thousand.</p> - -<div class="bq"> - -<p class="i1">"Of 1600 who were examined, 162 confessed that they had -been in prison, not merely once, or even twice, but some of them -several times; 116 had run away from their homes; 170 slept in -the 'lodging houses;' 253 had lived altogether by beggary; 216 -had neither shoes nor stockings; 280 had no hat or cap, or covering -for the head; 101 had no linen; 249 had never slept in a -bed; many had no recollection of ever having been in a bed; -68 were the children of convicts.</p> - -<p class="i1">"In 1847 it was found that of 4000 examined, 400 confessed -that they had been in prison, 660 lived by beggary, 178 were the -children of convicts, and 800 had lost one or both their parents. -Now, what was the employment of these people? They might -be classed as street-sweepers; vendors of lucifer matches, -oranges, cigars, tapes, and ballads; they held horses, ran -errands, jobbed for 'dealers in marine stores,' that being the -euphonious term for receivers of stolen goods—an influential race -in the metropolis, but for whose agency a very large proportion -of juvenile crime would be extinguished. It might be asked, -how did the large number who never slept in bed pass the night? -In all manner of places: under dry arches of bridges and viaducts, -under porticos, sheds, carts in outhouses, sawpits, or -staircases, or in the open air, and some in lodging-houses. Curious, -indeed, was their mode of life. One boy, during the inclement -period of 1847, passed the greater part of his nights in the -large iron roller in the Regent's Park. He climbed over the -railings, and crept to the roller, where he lay in comparative -security.</p> - -<p class="i1">"Lord Ashley says, 'many of them were living in the dry -arches of houses not finished, inaccessible except by an aperture, -only large enough to admit the body of a man. When a lantern -was thrust in, six or eight, ten or twelve people might be found -lying together. Of those whom we found thus lodged, we invited -a great number to come the following day, and there an -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_403" id="Page_403">[Pg 403]</a></span> -examination was instituted. The number examined was 33. -Their ages varied from 12 to 18, and some were younger. 24 had -no parents, 6 had one, 3 had stepmothers, 20 had no shirts, 9 no -shoes, 12 had been once in prison, 3 twice, 3 four times, 1 eight -times, and 1 (only 14 years old) twelve times. The physical condition -of these children was exceedingly bad; they were a prey to -vermin, they were troubled with itch, they were begrimed with -dirt, not a few were suffering from sickness, and two or three -days afterward several died from disease and the effects of -starvation. I privately examined eight or ten. I was anxious -to obtain from them the truth. I examined them separately, -taking them into a room alone. I said, "I am going to ask you -a variety of questions, to which I trust you will give me true answers, -and I will undertake to answer any question you may -put." They thought that a fair bargain. I put to several of -them the question, "How often have you slept in a bed during -the last three years?" One said, perhaps twelve times, another -three times, another could not remember that he ever had. I -asked them, how they passed the night in winter. They said, -"We lie eight or ten together, to keep ourselves warm." I entered -on the subject of their employments and modes of living. -They fairly confessed they had no means of subsistence but begging -and stealing. The only way of earning a penny in a legitimate -way was by picking up old bones. But they fairly -acknowledged for themselves and others scattered over the town, -with whom they professed themselves acquainted, that they had -not and could not have any other means of subsistence than by -begging and stealing. A large proportion of these young persons -were at a most dangerous age for society. What was the -moral condition of those persons? A large proportion of them -(it was no fault of theirs) did not recognise the distinctive rights -of <i>meum</i> and <i>tuum</i>. Property appeared to them to be only the -aggregate of plunder. They held that every thing which was possessed -was common stock; that he who got most was the cleverest -fellow, and that every one had a right to abstract from that stock -what he could by his own ingenuity. Was it matter of surprise -that they entertained those notions, which were instilled into -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_404" id="Page_404">[Pg 404]</a></span> -their minds from the time they were able to creep on all fours—that -not only did they disregard all the rights of property, but -gloried in doing so, unless they thought the avowal would bring -them within the grasp of the law. To illustrate their low state -of morality, and to show how utterly shameless they were in -speaking on these subjects, I would, mention what had passed at -a ragged school to which fourteen or fifteen boys, having presented -themselves on a Sunday evening, were admitted as they -came. They sat down, and the lesson proceeded. The clock -struck eight. They all rose with the exception of one little boy. -The master took him by the arm and said, "You must remain; -the lesson is not over." The reply was, "We must go to business." -The master inquired what business? "We must all go -to catch them as they come out of the chapels." It was necessary -for them, according to the remark of this boy, to go at a -certain time in pursuit of their calling. They had no remorse -or shame, in making the avowal, because they believed that there -were no other means of saving themselves from starvation. I -recollect a very graphic remark made by one of those children in -perfect simplicity, but which yet showed the horrors of their position. -The master had been pointing out to him the terrors of -punishment in after-life. The remark of the boy was, "That -may be so, but I don't think it can be any worse than this world -has been to me." Such was the condition of hundreds and -thousands.'"</p></div> - -<p class="i1">A large number of the depraved children live in -what are called the "lodging-houses." Most Americans -have heard of the "Old Brewery" at the Five -Points in New York city, where more than two hundred -persons of all ages and sexes were crowded -together. Such lodging-houses as this, (which fortunately -has been destroyed,) are common in London and -the provincial towns of Great Britain. Mr. Mayhew, -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_405" id="Page_405">[Pg 405]</a></span> -in his "London Labour and the London Poor," has -given us very full information concerning them. He -obtained much of it from one who had passed some -time among the dens of infamy. He says of these -lodging-houses—</p> - -<div class="bq"> - -<p class="i1">"'They have generally a spacious, though often ill-ventilated -kitchen, the dirty, dilapidated walls of which are hung with prints, -while a shelf or two are generally, though barely, furnished with -crockery and kitchen utensils. In some places knives and forks -are not provided, unless a penny is left with the "deputy," or manager, -till they are returned. A brush of any kind is a stranger, -and a looking-glass would be a miracle. The average number of -nightly lodgers is in winter seventy, in the summer (when many -visit the provinces) from forty to forty-five. The general charge -is, if two sleep together, 3<i>d.</i> per night, or 4<i>d.</i> for a single bed. In -either case, it is by no means unusual to find eighteen or twenty -in one small room, the heat and horrid smell from which are insufferable; -and, where there are young children, the staircases -are the lodgment of every kind of filth and abomination. In some -houses there are rooms for families, where, on a rickety machine, -which they dignify by the name of a bedstead, may be found the -man, his wife, and a son or daughter, perhaps eighteen years of age; -while the younger children, aged from seven to fourteen, sleep on -the floor. If they have linen, they take it off to escape vermin, -and rise naked, one by one, or sometimes brother and sister together. -This is no ideal picture; the subject is too capable of -being authenticated to need any meaningless or dishonest assistance -called "allowable exaggeration." The amiable and deservedly -popular minister of a district church, built among lodging-houses, -has stated that he has found twenty-nine human beings in one -apartment; and that having with difficulty knelt down between -two beds to pray with a dying woman, his legs became so jammed -that he could hardly get up again.</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Out of some fourscore such habitations,' continues my informant, -'I have only found <i>two</i> which had any sort of garden; and, I am -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_406" id="Page_406">[Pg 406]</a></span> -happy to add, that in neither of these two was there a single case -of cholera. In the others, however, the pestilence raged with terrible -fury.'"</p></div> - -<p class="i1">There are other lodging-houses still lower in character -than those described above, and where there is a -total absence of cleanliness and decency. A man who -had slept in these places, gave the following account to -Mr. Mayhew:—</p> - -<div class="bq"> - -<p class="i1">"He had slept in rooms so crammed with sleepers—he believed -there were thirty where twelve would have been a proper number—that -their breaths in the dead of night and in the unventilated -chamber, rose (I use his own words) 'in one foul, choking steam -of stench.' This was the case most frequently a day or two prior -to Greenwich Fair or Epsom Races, when the congregation of the -wandering classes, who are the supporters of the low lodging-houses, -was the thickest. It was not only that two or even three -persons jammed themselves into a bed not too large for one full-sized -man; but between the beds—and their partition one from -another admitted little more than the passage of a lodger—were -placed shakedowns, or temporary accommodation for nightly -slumber. In the better lodging-houses the shakedowns are small -palliasses or mattrasses; in the worst they are bundles of rags of -any kind; but loose straw is used only in the country for shakedowns. -Our informant saw a traveller, who had arrived late, eye -his shakedown in one of the worst houses with any thing but a -pleased expression of countenance; and a surly deputy, observing -this, told the customer he had his choice, 'which,' the deputy added, -'is not as all men has, or I shouldn't have been waiting here on -you. But you has your choice, I tell you;—sleep there on that -shakedown, or turn out and be——; that's fair.' At some of -the busiest periods, numbers sleep on the kitchen floor, all huddled -together, men and women, (when indecencies are common enough,) -and without bedding or any thing but their scanty clothes to soften -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_407" id="Page_407">[Pg 407]</a></span> -the hardness of the stone or brick floor. A penny is saved to the -lodger by this means. More than two hundred have been accommodated -in this way in a large house. The Irish, in harvest-time, -very often resort to this mode of passing the night.</p> - -<p class="i1">"I heard from several parties, of the surprise, and even fear or -horror, with which a decent mechanic—more especially if he were -accompanied by his wife—regarded one of these foul dens, when -destitution had driven him there for the first time in his life. -Sometimes such a man was seen to leave the place abruptly, -though perhaps he had prepaid his last halfpenny for the refreshment -of a night's repose. Sometimes he was seized with sickness. -I heard also from some educated persons who had 'seen -better days,' of the disgust with themselves and with the world, -which they felt on first entering such places. 'And I have some -reason to believe,' said one man, 'that a person, once well off, who -has sunk into the very depths of poverty, often makes his first appearance -in one of the worst of those places. Perhaps it is because -he keeps away from them as long as he can, and then, in a sort of -desperation fit, goes into the cheapest he can meet with; or if he -knows it's a vile place, he very likely says to himself—as I did—"I -may as well know the worst at once."'</p> - -<p class="i1">"Another man, who had moved in good society, said, when -asked about his resorting to a low lodging-house: 'When a man's -lost caste in society, he may as well go the whole hog, bristles and -all, and a low lodging-house is the entire pig.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"Notwithstanding many abominations, I am assured that the -lodgers, in even the worst of these habitations, for the most part, -sleep soundly. But they have, in all probability, been out in the -open air the whole of the day, and all of them may go to their -couches, after having walked, perhaps, many miles, exceedingly -fatigued, and some of them half drunk. 'Why, in course, sir,' -said a 'traveller,' whom I spoke to on this subject, 'if you is in a -country town or village, where there's only one lodging-house, -perhaps, and that a bad one—an old hand can always suit hisself -in London—you <i>must</i> get half drunk, or your money for your bed -is wasted. There's so much rest owing to you, after a hard day; -and bugs and bad air'll prevent its being paid, if you don't lay in -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_408" id="Page_408">[Pg 408]</a></span> -some stock of beer, or liquor of some sort, to sleep on. It's a duty -you owes yourself; but, if you haven't the browns, why, then, in -course, you can't pay it.' I have before remarked, and, indeed, -have given instances, of the odd and sometimes original manner -in which an intelligent patterer, for example, will express himself.</p> - -<p class="i1">"The information I obtained in the course of this inquiry into -the condition of low lodging-houses, afforded a most ample corroboration -of the truth of a remark I have more than once found -it necessary to make before—that persons of the vagrant class will -sacrifice almost any thing for warmth, not to say heat. Otherwise, -to sleep, or even sit, in some of the apartments of these establishments -would be intolerable.</p> - -<p class="i1">"From the frequent state of weariness to which I have alluded, -there is generally less conversation among the frequenters of the -low lodging-houses than might be expected. Some are busy cooking, -some (in the better houses) are reading, many are drowsy and -nodding, and many are smoking. In perhaps a dozen places of -the worst and filthiest class, indeed, smoking is permitted even in -the sleeping-rooms; but it is far less common than it was even -half-a-dozen years back, and becomes still less common yearly. -Notwithstanding so dangerous a practice, fires are and have been -very unfrequent in these places. There is always some one awake, -which is one reason. The lack of conversation, I ought to add, -and the weariness and drowsiness, are less observable in the lodging-houses -patronized by thieves and women of abandoned character, -whose lives are comparatively idle, and whose labour a mere -nothing. In their houses, if their conversation be at all general, -it is often of the most unclean character. At other times it is carried -on in groups, with abundance of whispers, shrugs, and slang, -by the members of the respective schools of thieves or lurkers."</p> - -<hr class="sect" /> - -<p class="i1">"The licentiousness of the frequenters, and more especially the -juvenile frequenters, of the low lodging-houses, must be even more -briefly alluded to. In some of these establishments, men and -women, boys and girls,—but perhaps in no case, or in very rare -cases, unless they are themselves consenting parties, herd together -promiscuously. The information which I have given from a reverend -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_409" id="Page_409">[Pg 409]</a></span> -informant indicates the nature of the proceedings, when the -sexes are herded indiscriminately, and it is impossible to present -to the reader, in full particularity, the records of the vice -practised.</p> - -<p class="i1">"Boys have boastfully carried on loud conversations, and from -distant parts of the room, of their triumphs over the virtue of girls, -and girls have laughed at and encouraged the recital. Three, -four, five, six, and even more boys and girls have been packed, -head and feet, into one small bed; some of them perhaps never -met before. On such occasions any clothing seems often enough -to be regarded as merely an encumbrance. Sometimes there are -loud quarrels and revilings from the jealousy of boys and girls, -and more especially of girls whose 'chaps' have deserted or been -inveigled from them. At others, there is an amicable interchange -of partners, and next day a resumption of their former companionship. -One girl, then fifteen or sixteen, who had been leading -this vicious kind of life for nearly three years, and had been repeatedly -in prison, and twice in hospitals—and who expressed a -strong desire to 'get out of the life' by emigration—said: 'Whatever -that's bad and wicked, that any one can fancy could be done -in such places among boys and girls that's never been taught, or -won't be taught, better, <i>is</i> done, and night after night.' In these -haunts of low iniquity, or rather in the room into which the -children are put, there are seldom persons above twenty. The -young lodgers in such places live by thieving and pocket-picking, -or by prostitution. The charge for a night's lodging is generally -2<i>d.</i>, but smaller children have often been admitted for 1<i>d.</i> If a -boy or girl resort to one of these dens at night without the means -of defraying the charge for accommodation, the 'mot of the ken' -(mistress of the house) will pack them off, telling them plainly -that it will be no use their returning until they have stolen something -worth 2<i>d.</i> If a boy or girl do not return in the evening, and -have not been heard to express their intention of going elsewhere, -the first conclusion arrived at by their mates is that they have -'got into trouble,' (prison.)</p> - -<p class="i1">"The indiscriminate admixture of the sexes among adults, in -many of these places, is another evil. Even in some houses considered -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_410" id="Page_410">[Pg 410]</a></span> -of the better sort, men and women, husbands and wives, -old and young, strangers and acquaintances, sleep in the same -apartment, and if they choose, in the same bed. Any remonstrance -at some act of gross depravity, or impropriety, on the part of a -woman not so utterly hardened as the others, is met with abuse -and derision. One man who described these scenes to me, and -had long witnessed them, said that almost the only women who ever -hid their faces or manifested dislike of the proceedings they could -not but notice, (as far as he saw,) were poor Irishwomen, generally -those who live by begging: 'But for all that,' the man added, 'an -Irishman or Irishwoman of that sort will sleep anywhere, in any -mess, to save a halfpenny, though they may have often a few shillings, -or a good many, hidden about them.'"</p></div> - -<p class="i1">The recent report of Captain Hays, "on the operation -of the Common Lodging-house Act," presents some -appalling facts:—</p> - -<div class="bq"> - -<p class="i1">"Up to the end of February, it was ascertained that 3100 persons, -mostly Irishmen, in the very heart of the metropolis, lodged -every night, 84,000 individuals in 3712 rooms. The instances -enumerated are heart sickening. In a small room in Rosemary -lane, near the Tower, fourteen adults were sleeping on the floor -without any partition or regard to decency. In an apartment in -Church lane, St. Giles, not fifteen feet square, were thirty-seven -women and children, all huddled together on the floor. There are -thousands of similar cases. The eastern portion of London, comprising -Whitechapel, Spitalfields, and Mile-end—an unknown land -to all of the decent classes—is filled with a swarming population -of above 300,000 beggars, costermongers, thieves, ragsellers, Jews, -and the like. A single court is a fair example of this whole district. -It contains eight houses of two rooms each. Three hundred -persons—men, women, and children—live there. There is -only one place of convenience; and one hydrant, which is served -half an hour each day. The condition of this court may be imagined; -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_411" id="Page_411">[Pg 411]</a></span> -it is too filthy to describe. Decayed matter, stagnant -water, refuse fish, vegetables, broken baskets, dead cats, dogs, and -rats, are strewed everywhere around. The prices of various kinds -of provision in these neighbourhoods give a forcible notion of the -condition of the population. You can purchase for a halfpenny -fish or meat enough for a dinner.</p> - -<p class="i1">"In this neighbourhood is Rag Fair. It is worth a visit. Thousands -of persons are assembled in the streets, which are so thickly -covered with merchandise that it is difficult to step along without -treading on heaps of gowns, shawls, bonnets, shoes, and articles of -men's attire. There is no conceivable article of dress that may -not be purchased here. It is not without danger that one even -visits the place at noonday. You are in the midst of the refuse of -all London,—of a whole race, whose chief employment is to commit -depredations upon property, and whose lives are spent in the -midst of a squalor, filth, deprivation and degradation, which the -whole world cannot probably parallel. One of the London missionaries -says—'Persons who are accustomed to run up heavy -bills at the shops of fashionable tailors and milliners will scarcely -believe the sums for which the poor are able to purchase the same -kind of articles. I have recently clothed a man and woman, both -decently, for the sum of nine shillings. There is as great a variety -of articles in pattern, shape, and size, as could be found in any -draper's shop in London. The mother may go to <i>Rag Fair</i>, with -the whole of her family, both boys and girls—yes, and her husband, -too—and for a very few shillings deck them out from top to -toe. I have no doubt that a man and his wife, and five or six -children, with £1 would purchase for themselves an entire change. -This may appear an exaggeration; but I actually overheard a conversation, -in which two women were trying to bargain for a child's -frock; the sum asked was 1½<i>d.</i>, and the sum offered was 1<i>d.</i>, and -they parted on the difference.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"The following is a bill delivered by a dealer to one of the missionaries, -who was requested to supply a suit of clothes for a man -and woman whom he had persuaded to get married several years -after the right time:—</p></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_412" id="Page_412">[Pg 412]</a></span></p> - -<div class="bq"> - -<table class="narrow" id="BILL_FOR_GROOM" summary="Bill for Groom's Clothes"> - <tr> - <td class="c1"></td> - <td class="c2"><i>s.</i></td> - <td class="c1"><i>d.</i></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c1" style="padding-left:20%;">A full linen-fronted shirt, very elegant</td> - <td class="c2">0</td> - <td class="c1">6</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c1" style="padding-left:20%;">A pair of warm worsted stockings </td> - <td class="c2">0</td> - <td class="c1">1</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c1" style="padding-left:20%;">A pair of light-coloured trousers</td> - <td class="c2">0</td> - <td class="c1">6</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c1" style="padding-left:20%;">A black cloth waistcoat</td> - <td class="c2">0</td> - <td class="c1">3</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c1" style="padding-left:20%;">A pair of white cotton braces</td> - <td class="c2">0</td> - <td class="c1">1</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c1" style="padding-left:20%;">A pair of low shoes</td> - <td class="c2">0</td> - <td class="c1">1</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c1" style="padding-left:20%;">A black silk velvet stock</td> - <td class="c2">0</td> - <td class="c1">1</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c1" style="padding-left:20%;">A black beaver, fly-fronted, double-breasted paletot - coat, lined with silk, a very superior article</td> - <td class="c2">1</td> - <td class="c1">6</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c1" style="padding-left:20%;">A cloth cap, bound with a figured band</td> - <td class="c2">0</td> - <td class="c1">1</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c1" style="padding-left:20%;">A pair of black cloth gloves</td> - <td class="c2">0</td> - <td class="c1">1</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c1" style="padding-left:20%;"></td> - <td colspan="2" class="c2">——</td> - <td class="c1"></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c1" style="padding-left:20%;"></td> - <td class="c2">3</td> - <td class="c1">3</td> - </tr> -</table> - -<p class="i1">"The man had been educated, and could speak no fewer than -five languages; by profession he was, however, nothing but a dusthill -raker.</p> - -<p class="i1">"The bill delivered for the bride's costume is as follows:</p> - -<table class="narrow" id="BILL_FOR_BRIDES_COSTUME" summary="Bill for Bride's Costume"> - <tr> - <td class="c1" style="padding-left:20%;">A shift</td> - <td class="c2">0</td> - <td class="c1" style="padding-left:1.5em;">1</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c1" style="padding-left:20%;">A pair of stays</td> - <td class="c2">0</td> - <td class="c1" style="padding-left:1.5em;">2</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c1" style="padding-left:20%;">A flannel petticoat</td> - <td class="c2">0</td> - <td class="c1" style="padding-left:1.5em;">4</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c1" style="padding-left:20%;">A black Orleans ditto</td> - <td class="c2">0</td> - <td class="c1" style="padding-left:1.5em;">4</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c1" style="padding-left:20%;">A pair of white cotton stockings</td> - <td class="c2">0</td> - <td class="c1" style="padding-left:1.5em;">1</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c1" style="padding-left:20%;">A very good light-coloured cotton gown</td> - <td class="c2">0</td> - <td class="c1">10</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c1" style="padding-left:20%;">A pair of single-soled slippers, with spring - heels</td> - <td class="c2">0</td> - <td class="c1" style="padding-left:1.5em;">2</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c1" style="padding-left:20%;">A double-dyed bonnet, including a neat cap</td> - <td class="c2">0</td> - <td class="c1" style="padding-left:1.5em;">2</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c1" style="padding-left:20%;">A pair of white cotton gloves</td> - <td class="c2">0</td> - <td class="c1" style="padding-left:1.5em;">1</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c1" style="padding-left:20%;">A lady's green silk paletot, lined with crimson - silk, trimmed with black</td> - <td class="c2">0</td> - <td class="c1">10</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c1" style="padding-left:20%;"></td> - <td colspan="2" class="c2">——</td> - <td class="c1"></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c1" style="padding-left:20%;"></td> - <td class="c2">3</td> - <td class="c1" style="padding-left:1.5em;">1</td> - </tr> -</table> -</div> - -<p class="i1">Throughout the country there are low lodging-houses, -which do not differ much in character from those of -London. In all of them the most disgusting immorality -is practised to an extent scarcely conceivable by those -who do not visit such dens of vice and misery.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_413" id="Page_413">[Pg 413]</a></span></p> - -<p class="i1">The story of the Jew Fagan, and his felonious operations, -in Dickens's Oliver Twist, is a true representation -of a most extensive business in London. There are a -large number of notorious receivers of stolen goods. -Some of them keep a number of boys, who are instructed -in stealing, and beaten severely when unsuccessful. -Mayhew mentions one notorious case in George-yard. -A wooden-legged Welshman, named Hughes, and commonly -called Taff, was the miscreant. Two little boys -were his chief agents in stealing, and when they did not -obtain any thing, he would take the strap off his wooden -leg, and beat them through the nakedness of their rags. -He boarded and lodged about a dozen Chelsea and -Greenwich pensioners. These he followed and watched -closely until they were paid. Then, after they had settled -with him, he would make them drunk and rob -them of the few shillings they had left.</p> - -<p class="i1">The brutal treatment of servants, which we have -already touched, drives many of them to the low lodging-houses, -and to the commission of crime. In the following -narrative, which a girl communicated to Mr. Mayhew, -we have an illustration of this assertion, as well as -some awful disclosures in regard to "life among the -lowly:"—</p> - -<div class="bq"> - -<p class="i1">"'I am an orphan. When I was ten I was sent to service as a -maid of all-work, in a small tradesman's family. It was a hard -place, and my mistress used me very cruelly, beating me often. -When I had been in place three weeks, my mother died; my -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_414" id="Page_414">[Pg 414]</a></span> -father having died twelve years before. I stood my mistress's ill-treatment -about six months. She beat me with sticks as well as -with her hands. I was black and blue, and at last I ran away. -I got to Mrs. ——, a low lodging-house. I didn't know before -that there was such a place. I heard of it from some girls at the -Glasshouse, (baths and wash-houses,) where I went for shelter. I -went with them to have a halfpenny worth of coffee, and they took -me to the lodging-house. I then had three shillings, and stayed -about a month, and did nothing wrong, living on the three shillings -and what I pawned my clothes for, as I got some pretty good -things away with me. In the lodging-house I saw nothing but -what was bad, and heard nothing but what was bad. I was -laughed at, and was told to swear. They said, 'Look at her for -a d—— modest fool'—sometimes worse than that, until by degrees -I got to be as bad as they were. During this time I used to see -boys and girls from ten to twelve years old sleeping together, but -understood nothing wrong. I had never heard of such places -before I ran away. I can neither read nor write. My mother -was a good woman, and I wish I'd had her to run away to. I -saw things between almost children that I can't describe to you—very -often I saw them, and that shocked me. At the month's -end, when I was beat out, I met with a young man of fifteen—I -myself was going on to twelve years old—and he persuaded me -to take up with him. I stayed with him three months in the -same lodging-house, living with him as his wife, though we were -mere children, and being true to him. At the three months' end -he was taken up for picking pockets, and got six months. I was -sorry, for he was kind to me; though I was made ill through -him; so I broke some windows in St. Paul's churchyard to get -into prison to get cured. I had a month in the Compter, and -came out well. I was scolded very much in the Compter, on -account of the state I was in, being so young. I had 2<i>s.</i> 6<i>d.</i> given -to me when I came out, and was forced to go into the streets for -a living. I continued walking the streets for three years, sometimes -making a good deal of money, sometimes none, feasting one -day and starving the next. The bigger girls could persuade me -to do any thing they liked with my money. I was never happy -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_415" id="Page_415">[Pg 415]</a></span> -all the time, but I could get no character, and could not get out -of the life. I lodged all this time at a lodging-house in Kent-street. -They were all thieves and bad girls. I have known -between three and four dozen boys and girls sleep in one room. -The beds were horrid filthy and full of vermin. There was very -wicked carryings on. The boys, if any difference, was the worst. -We lay packed, on a full night, a dozen boys and girls squeedged -into one bed. That was very often the case—some at the foot -and some at the top—boys and girls all mixed. I can't go into -all the particulars, but whatever could take place in words or acts -between boys and girls did take place, and in the midst of the -others. I am sorry to say I took part in these bad ways myself, -but I wasn't so bad as some of the others. There was only a -candle burning all night, but in summer it was light great part -of the night. Some boys and girls slept without any clothes, and -would dance about the room that way. I have seen them, and, -wicked as I was, felt ashamed. I have seen two dozen capering -about the room that way; some mere children, the boys generally -the youngest. * * * There were no men or -women present. There were often fights. The deputy never interfered. -This is carried on just the same as ever to this day, -and is the same every night. I have heard young girls shout out -to one another how often they had been obliged to go to the hospital, -or the infirmary, or the workhouse. There was a great deal -of boasting about what the boys and girls had stolen during the -day. I have known boys and girls change their 'partners,' just -for a night. At three years' end I stole a piece of beef from a -butcher. I did it to get into prison. I was sick of the life I was -leading, and didn't know how to get out of it. I had a month for -stealing. When I got out I passed two days and a night in the -streets doing nothing wrong, and then went and threatened to -break Messrs. ——'s windows again. I did that to get into -prison again; for when I lay quiet of a night in prison I thought -things over, and considered what a shocking life I was leading, -and how my health might be ruined completely, and I thought I -would stick to prison rather than go back to such a life. I got -six months for threatening. When I got out I broke a lamp next -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_416" id="Page_416">[Pg 416]</a></span> -morning for the same purpose, and had a fortnight. That was -the last time I was in prison. I have since been leading the same -life as I told you of for the three years, and lodging at the same -houses, and seeing the same goings on. I hate such a life now -more than ever. I am willing to do any work that I can in washing -and cleaning. I can do a little at my needle. I could do -hard work, for I have good health. I used to wash and clean in -prison, and always behaved myself there. At the house where I -am it is 3<i>d.</i> a night; but at Mrs. ——'s it is 1<i>d.</i> and 2<i>d.</i> a night, -and just the same goings on. Many a girl—nearly all of them—goes -out into the streets from this penny and twopenny house, to -get money for their favourite boys by prostitution. If the girl -can not get money she must steal something, or will be beaten by -her 'chap' when she comes home. I have seen them beaten, often -kicked and beaten until they were blind from bloodshot, and their -teeth knocked out with kicks from boots as the girl lays on the -ground. The boys, in their turn, are out thieving all day, and -the lodging-house keeper will buy any stolen provisions of them, -and sell them to the lodgers. I never saw the police in the house. -If a boy comes to the house on a night without money or sawney, -or something to sell to the lodgers, a handkerchief or something -of that kind, he is not admitted, but told very plainly, 'Go thieve -it, then,' Girls are treated just the same. Anybody may call -in the daytime at this house and have a halfpenny worth of coffee -and sit any length of time until evening. I have seen three dozen -sitting there that way, all thieves and bad girls. There are no -chairs, and only one form in front of the fire, on which a dozen -can sit. The others sit on the floor all about the room, as near -the fire as they can. Bad language goes on during the day, as I -told you it did during the night, and indecencies too, but nothing -like so bad as at night. They talk about where there is good -places to go and thieve. The missioners call sometimes, but -they're laughed at often when they're talking, and always before -the door's closed on them. If a decent girl goes there to get a -ha'porth of coffee, seeing the board over the door, she is always -shocked. Many a poor girl has been ruined in this house since I -was, and boys have boasted about it. I never knew boy or girl do -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_417" id="Page_417">[Pg 417]</a></span> -good, once get used there. Get used there, indeed, and you are -life-ruined. I was an only child, and haven't a friend in the -world. I have heard several girls say how they would like to -get out of the life, and out of the place. From those I know, I -think that cruel parents and mistresses cause many to be driven -there. One lodging-house keeper, Mrs. ——, goes out dressed respectable, -and pawns any stolen property, or sells it at public-houses.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"As a corroboration of the girl's statement, a wretched-looking -boy, only thirteen years of age, gave me the following additional -information. He had a few rags hanging about him, and no shirt—indeed, -he was hardly covered enough for purposes of decency, -his skin being exposed through the rents in his jacket and trousers. -He had a stepfather, who treated him very cruelly. The -stepfather and the child's mother went 'across the country,' begging -and stealing. Before the mother died, an elder brother ran -away on account of being beaten.</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Sometimes,' I give his own words, 'he (the stepfather) -wouldn't give us a bit to eat, telling us to go and thieve for it. -My brother had been a month gone (he's now a soldier in Gibraltar) -when I ran away to join him. I knew where to find him, -as we met sometimes. We lived by thieving, and I do still—by -pulling flesh, (stealing meat.) I got to lodge at Mrs. ——, and have -been there this eight months. I can read and write a little.' This -boy then confirmed what the young girl had told me of the grossest -acts night by night among the boys and girls, the language, &c., -and continued:—'I always sleep on the floor for 1<i>d.</i>, and pay -½<i>d.</i> besides for coke. At this lodging-house cats and kittens are -melted down, sometimes twenty a day. A quart pot is a cat, and -pints and half-pints are kittens. A kitten (pint) brings 3<i>d.</i> from -the rag-shops, and a cat 6<i>d.</i> There's convenience to melt them -down at the lodging-house. We can't sell clothes in the house, -except any lodger wants them; and clothes nearly all go to the -Jews in Petticoat-lane. Mrs. —— buys the sawney of us; so -much for the lump, 2<i>d.</i> a pound about; she sells it again for -twice what she gives, and more. Perhaps 30 lbs. of meat every -day is sold to her. I have been in prison six times, and have -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_418" id="Page_418">[Pg 418]</a></span> -had three dozen; each time I came out harder. If I left Mrs. -——'s house I don't know how I could get my living. Lots of -boys would get away if they could. I never drink. I don't like -it. Very few of us boys drink. I don't like thieving, and often -go about singing; but I can't live by singing, and I don't know -how I could live honestly. If I had money enough to buy a stock -of oranges, I think I could be honest.'"</p></div> - -<p class="i1">Mr. Mayhew called a meeting of thieves and beggars -at the Bristol Union School-room, Shakspeare Walk, -Shadwell. One hundred and fifty of them—all under -twenty years of age—attended. It may be doubted -whether such a meeting could have been brought about -in any other city. The young thieves and beggars -were very fair samples of their numerous class. Of -professed beggars, there were fifty; and sixty-six acknowledged -themselves habitual thieves. The announcement -that the greater number present were -thieves, pleased them exceedingly, and was received -with three rounds of applause! Fourteen of them had -been in prison over twenty times, and twenty stated -that they had been flogged in prison. Seventy-eight -of them regularly roamed through the country every -year; sixty-five slept regularly in the casual wards of -the Unions; and fifty-two occasionally slept in trampers' -lodging-houses throughout the country.</p> - -<p class="i1">The ignorance prevailing among the vast number of -street-sellers in London, is rather comically illustrated -by Mr. Mayhew, in the following instance:—</p> - -<div class="bq"> - -<p class="i1">"One boy gave me his notions of men and things. He was a -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_419" id="Page_419">[Pg 419]</a></span> -thick-limbed, red-cheeked fellow; answered very freely, and -sometimes, when I could not help laughing at his replies, laughed -loudly himself, as if he entered into the joke.</p> - -<p class="i1">"Yes, he had heer'd of God who made the world. Couldn't -exactly recollec' when he'd heerd on him, but he had, most -sarten-ly. Didn't know when the world was made, or how anybody -could do it. It must have taken a long time. It was afore -his time, 'or yourn either, sir.' Knew there was a book called -the Bible; didn't know what it was about; didn't mind to know; -knew of such a book to a sartinty, because a young 'oman took -one to pop (pawn) for an old 'oman what was on the spree—a -bran new 'un—but the cove wouldn't have it, and the old 'oman -said he might be d——d. Never heer'd tell on the deluge, of the -world having been drownded; it couldn't, for there wasn't water -enough to do it. He weren't a going to fret hisself for such -things as that. Didn't know what happened to people after death, -only that they was buried. Had seen a dead body laid out; was -a little afeared at first; poor Dick looked so different, and when -you touched his face he was so cold! oh, so cold! Had heer'd -on another world; wouldn't mind if he was there hisself, if he -could do better, for things was often queer here. Had heer'd on -it from a tailor—such a clever cove, a stunner—as went to -'Straliar, (Australia,) and heer'd him say he was going into -another world. Had never heer'd of France, but had heer'd of -Frenchmen; there wasn't half a quarter so many on 'em as of -Italians, with their ear-rings like flash gals. Didn't dislike -foreigners, for he never saw none. What was they? Had -heer'd of Ireland. Didn't know where it was, but it couldn't be -very far, or such lots wouldn't come from there to London. -Should say they walked it, ay, every bit of the way, for he'd seen -them come in all covered with dust. Had heer'd of people going -to sea, and had seen the ships in the river, but didn't know -nothing about it, for he was very seldom that way. The sun was -made of fire, or it wouldn't make you feel so warm. The stars -was fire, too, or they wouldn't shine. They didn't make it warm, -they was too small. Didn't know any use they was of. Didn't -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_420" id="Page_420">[Pg 420]</a></span> -know how far they was off; a jolly lot higher than the gas lights -some on 'em was. Was never in a church; had heer'd they -worshipped God there; didn't know how it was done; had heer'd -singing and praying inside when he'd passed; never was there, -for he hadn't no togs to go in, and wouldn't be let in among such -swells as he had seen coming out. Was a ignorant chap, for -he'd never been to school, but was up to many a move, and didn't -do bad. Mother said he would make his fortin yet.</p> - -<p class="i1">"Had heer'd of the Duke of Wellington; he was Old Nosey; -didn't think he ever seed him, but had seen his statty. Hadn't -heer'd of the battle of Waterloo, nor who it was atween; once -lived in Webber-row, Waterloo-road. Thought he had heer'd -speak of Bonaparte; didn't know what he was; thought he'd -heer'd of Shakspeare, but didn't know whether he was alive or -dead, and didn't care. A man with something like that name -kept a dolly and did stunning; but he was sich a hard cove that -if <i>he</i> was dead it wouldn't matter. Had seen the queen, but -didn't recollec' her name just at the minute; oh! yes, Wictoria -and Albert. Had no notion what the queen had to do. Should -think she hadn't such power [he had first to ask me what 'power' -was] as the lord mayor, or as Mr. Norton as was the Lambeth -beak, and perhaps is still. Was never once before a beak, and -didn't want to. Hated the crushers; what business had they to -interfere with him if he was only resting his basket in a street? -Had been once to the Wick, and once to the Bower; liked tumbling -better; he meant to have a little pleasure when the peas -came in."</p></div> - -<p class="i1">The vagabond propensities of the street-children are -thus described by Mr. Mayhew:—</p> - -<div class="bq"> - -<p class="i1">"As soon as the warm weather commences, boys and girls, but -more especially boys, leave the town in shoals, traversing the -country in every direction; some furnished with trifling articles -(such as I have already enumerated) to sell, and others to begging, -lurking, or thieving. It is not the street-sellers who so -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_421" id="Page_421">[Pg 421]</a></span> -much resort to the tramp, as those who are devoid of the commonest -notions of honesty; a quality these young vagrants sometimes -respect when in fear of a jail, and the hard work with -which such a place is identified in their minds—and to which, -with the peculiar idiosyncrasy of a roving race, they have an -insuperable objection.</p> - -<p class="i1">"I have met with boys and girls, however, to whom a jail had -no terrors, and to whom, when in prison, there was only one -dread, and that a common one among the ignorant, whether with -or without any sense of religion—superstition. 'I lay in prison -of a night, sir,' said a boy who was generally among the briskest -of his class, 'and think I shall see things.' The 'things' represent -the vague fears which many, not naturally stupid, but untaught -or ill-taught persons, entertain in the dark. A girl, a -perfect termagant in the breaking of windows and suchlike -offences, told me something of the same kind. She spoke well -of the treatment she experienced in prison, and seemed to have a -liking for the matron and officials; her conduct there was quiet -and respectful. I believe she was not addicted to drink.</p> - -<p class="i1">"Many of the girls, as well as the boys, of course trade as -they 'tramp.' They often sell, both in the country and in town, -little necklaces composed of red berries strung together upon -thick thread, for dolls and children; but although I have asked -several of them, I have never yet found one who collected the -berries and made the necklaces themselves; neither have I met -with a single instance in which the girl vendors knew the name -of the berries thus used, nor indeed even that they <i>were</i> berries. -The invariable reply to my questions upon this point has been -that they 'are called necklaces;' that 'they are just as they sells -'em to us;' that they 'don't know whether they are made or -whether they grow;' and in most cases, that they 'gets them in -London, by Shoreditch;' although in one case a little brown-complexioned -girl, with bright sparkling eyes, said that 'she got -them from the gipsies.' At first I fancied, from this child's appearance, -that she was rather superior in intellect to most of her -class; but I soon found that she was not a whit above the others, -unless, indeed, it were in the possession of the quality of cunning."</p></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_422" id="Page_422">[Pg 422]</a></span></p> - -<p class="i1">The regular "tramps," or wandering vagabonds, are -very numerous throughout Great Britain. At certain -periods they issue from all the large towns, and prey -upon the rural districts like swarms of locusts. In no -other country can be found so constant a class of vagrants. -The gipsies form but a small portion of the -"tramps." These vagrants are miserably clothed, -filthy, covered with vermin, and generally very much -diseased—sometimes from debauchery, and sometimes -from want of food and from exposure. Very few of -them are married. The women are nearly all prostitutes. -The manner of life of these wanderers is -curious. They beg during the day in the towns, or -along the roads; and they so arrange their day's -tramp as to arrive, most nights, in the neighbourhood -of the workhouses. They then hide the money they -have collected by begging, and present themselves, -after sunset, at the gates of the workhouse, to beg a -night's lodging. To nearly every workhouse there are -attached vagrant wards, or buildings which are specially -set apart for the reception of tramps such as -those we have described. These wards are commonly -brick buildings, of one story in height. They have -brick floors and guard-room beds, with loose straw and -rugs for the males, and iron bedsteads, with straw, for -the females. They are badly ventilated, and unprovided -with any means for producing warmth. All holes for -ventilation are sure to be stopped up at night, by the -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_423" id="Page_423">[Pg 423]</a></span> -occupants, with rags or straw, so that the stench of -these sleeping-places is disgusting in the extreme. -Guards are appointed for these wards, but such is the -immorality and indecency of the vagrants, that the -most disgusting scenes are common in them. The -wards resound with the vilest songs and the foulest -language; and so numerous are the "tramps" that the -guardians find it impossible to separate the sexes. -This vast evil of vagrancy is constantly increasing, -and is a natural result of the monopolies and oppressions -of the aristocracy. It is stated that on the 25th -of March, 1848, the 626 Unions of England and Wales -relieved 16,086 vagrants. But this scarcely gives an -idea of the magnitude of the evil. Between 40,000 -and 50,000 "tramps" infest the roads and streets of -England and Wales every day. The majority of them -are thieves, and nearly all are almost brutally ignorant.</p> - -<p class="i1">In London there are large numbers of small dealers, -called costermongers and patterers. Persons belonging -to these classes seldom or never rise above their trade, -and they seem to have a kind of hereditary pride in -their degraded position. Many of the costermongers -and patterers are thieves, and the general character of -these classes is very debased; ignorance and immorality -prevail to a fearful extent. The patterers are more -intelligent than the costermongers, but they are also -more immoral. They help off their wares, which are -chiefly stationery and quack medicines, by long harangues, -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_424" id="Page_424">[Pg 424]</a></span> -while the costermongers merely cry their fish, -greens, &c. about the streets. The number of people -dependent upon costermongering in London is about -thirty thousand. The patterers are not so numerous.</p> - -<p class="i1">Concubinage is the rule and marriage the exception -among both costermongers and patterers. Mr. Mayhew -estimates that only one-tenth of the couples living together -and carrying on the costermongering trade are -married. There is no honour attached to the marriage -state and no shame to concubinage. In good times the -women are rigidly faithful to their paramours, but in -the worst pinch of poverty a departure from fidelity is -not considered heinous. About three out of a hundred -costermongers ever attend a church, and the majority -of them have no knowledge of Christianity; they associate -the Church of England and aristocracy, and hate -both. Slang is acquired very rapidly, and some costermongers -will converse in it by the hour. The women -use it sparingly; the girls more than the women; the -men more than the girls; and the boys most of all. -Pronouncing backward is the simple principle upon -which the costermonger slang is founded.</p> - -<p class="i1">The patterers, though a vagrant, are an organized -class. Mr. Mayhew says—</p> - -<div class="bq"> - -<p class="i1">"There is a telegraphic despatch between them, through the -length and breadth of the land. If two patterers (previously unacquainted) -meet in the provinces, the following, or something -like it, will be their conversation:—Can you 'voker romeny' (can -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_425" id="Page_425">[Pg 425]</a></span> -you speak cant?) What is your 'monekeer?' (name.) Perhaps -it turns out that one is 'White-headed Bob,' and the other 'Plymouth -Ned,' They have a 'shant of gatter' (pot of beer) at the -nearest 'boozing ken,' (ale-house,) and swear eternal friendship -to each other. The old saying, that 'When the liquor is in the -wit is out,' is remarkably fulfilled on these occasions, for they -betray to the 'flatties' (natives) all their profits and proceedings.</p> - -<p class="i1">"It is to be supposed that in country districts, where there are -no streets, the patterer is obliged to call at the houses. As they -are mostly without the hawker's license, and sometimes find wet -linen before it is lost, the rural districts are not fond of their visits; -and there are generally two or three persons in a village reported -to be 'gammy,' that is, unfavourable. If a patterer has been -'crabbed,' that is, offended, at any of the 'cribs,' (houses,) he -mostly chalks a signal on or near the door. I give one or two -instances:—</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Bone,' meaning good.</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Cooper'd,' spoiled by the imprudence of some other patterer.</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Gammy,' likely to have you taken up.</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Flummut,' sure of a month in quod.</p> - -<p class="i1">"In most lodging-houses there is an old man who is the guide -to every 'walk' in the vicinity, and who can tell every house on -every round that is 'good for a cold 'tater.' In many cases there -is over the kitchen mantel-piece a map of the district, dotted here -and there with memorandums of failure or success.</p> - -<p class="i1">"Patterers are fond of carving their names and avocations -about the houses they visit. The old jail at Dartford has been -some years a 'padding-ken.' In one of the rooms appear the -following autographs:—</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Jemmy, the Rake, bound to Bristol; bad beds, but no bugs. -Thank God for all things.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Razor George and his moll slept here the day after Christmas; -just out of "stir," (jail,) for "muzzling a peeler."'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Scotch Mary, with "driz," (lace,) bound to Dover and back, -please God.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"Sometimes these inscriptions are coarse and obscene; sometimes -very well written and orderly. Nor do they want illustrations.</p></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_426" id="Page_426">[Pg 426]</a></span></p> - -<div class="bq"> - -<p class="i1">"At the old factory, Lincoln, is a portrait of the town beadle, -formerly a soldier; it is drawn with different-coloured chalks, and -ends with the following couplet:—</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> - <div class="poetry"> - <div class="verse">'You are a B for false swearing,</div> - <div class="verse">In hell they'll roast you like a herring.'</div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class="i1">"Concubinage is very common among patterers, especially on -their travels; they have their regular rounds, and call the peregrination -'going on circuit.' For the most part they are early -risers; this gives them a facility for meeting poor girls who have -had a night's shelter in the union workhouses. They offer such -girls some refreshments, swear they are single men, and promise -comforts certainly superior to the immediate position of their -victims. Consent is generally obtained; perhaps a girl of fourteen -or fifteen, previously virtuous, is induced to believe in a promise -of constant protection, but finds herself, the next morning, -ruined and deserted; nor is it unlikely that, within a month or -two, she will see her seducer in the company of a dozen incidental -wives. A gray-headed miscreant, called 'Cutler Tom,' boasts -of five hundred such exploits; and there is too great reason to -believe that the picture of his own drawing is not greatly overcharged."</p></div> - -<p class="i1">A reverend gentleman, who had enjoyed the best -opportunities for observing the patterers, gave Mr. -Mayhew the following information:—</p> - -<div class="bq"> - -<p class="i1">"I have seen fathers and mothers place their boys and girls in -positions of incipient enormity, and command them to use language -and gestures to each other which would make a harlot -blush, and almost a heathen tremble. I have hitherto viewed the -patterer as a salesman, having something in his hand, on whose -merits, real or pretended, he talks people out of their money. By -slow degrees prosperity rises, but rapid is the advance of evil. -The patterer sometimes gets 'out of stock,' and is obliged, at no -great sacrifice of conscience, to 'patter' in another strain. In -every large town, sham official documents, with crests, seals, and -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_427" id="Page_427">[Pg 427]</a></span> -signatures, can be got for half-a-crown. Armed with these, the -patterer becomes a 'lurker,' that is, an impostor; his papers certify -any and every 'ill that flesh is heir to.' Shipwreck is called -a 'shake lurk;' loss by fire is a 'glim.' Sometimes the petitioner -has had a horse which has dropped dead with the mad staggers; -or has a wife ill or dying, and six or seven children at once sickening -of the small-pox. Children are borrowed to support the -appearance; the case is certified by the minister and churchwardens -of a parish which exists only in imagination; and as many -people dislike the trouble of investigation, the patterer gets enough -to raise a stock in trade, and divides the spoil between the swag-shop -and the gin-palace. Sometimes they are detected, and get -a 'drag,' (three months in prison.)</p> - -<p class="i1">"They have many narrow escapes; one occurs to me of a somewhat -ludicrous character:—A patterer and lurker (now dead) -known by the name of 'Captain Moody,' unable to get a 'fakement' -written or printed, was standing almost naked in the streets -of a neighbouring town. A gentleman stood still and heard his -piteous tale, but, having been 'done' more than once, he resolved -to examine the affair, and begged the petitioner to conduct him -to his wife and children, who were in a garret on a bed of languishing, -with neither clothes, food, nor fire, but, it appeared, -with faith enough to expect a supply from 'Him who feedeth the -ravens,' and in whose sacred name even a cold 'tater was implored. -The patterer, or half-patterer and half-beggar, took the -gentleman (who promised a sovereign if every thing was square) -through innumerable and intricate windings, till he came to an -outhouse or sort of stable. He saw the key outside the door, and -begged the gentleman to enter and wait till he borrowed a light -of a neighbour to show him up-stairs. The illumination never -arrived, and the poor charitable man found that the miscreant -had locked him into the stable. The patterer went to the padding-ken, -told the story with great glee, and left that locality -within an hour of the occurrence."</p></div> - -<p class="i1">Liverpool, Manchester, Birmingham, and other provincial -cities possess an ignorant and immoral population -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_428" id="Page_428">[Pg 428]</a></span> -quite equal, in proportion to the entire population -of each city, to that of London. In each may be found -a degraded class, with scarcely any ideas of religion or -morality, living in the most wretched manner, and -practising every species of vice. The cellar-houses, in -which many of them live, have been described in another -chapter. They are the filthy abodes of a people almost -reduced to a brutish condition. In Liverpool parish -there is a <i>cellar-population of 20,000</i>, a large number -of whom are continually engaged in criminal practices. -There are portions of the city of Glasgow which a -stranger could scarcely traverse safely at night, and -where an amount of vice and misery may be witnessed -which is not exceeded in either London or Liverpool.</p> - -<p class="i1">In the mining and manufacturing districts of England -there is much ignorance and more vice. In both, there -are schools of a miserable character, but those young -persons who can find time to attend them learn nothing -beyond reading, writing, and the simplest rules of arithmetic. -The mining labour, as carried on in the mines -of England, is extremely demoralizing in its tendency, -as we have shown in another part of this work. The -report of parliamentary commissioners contains some -statements in regard to the darkness of mind and corruption -of heart among young persons employed in the -various trades and manufactures.</p> - -<p class="i1">The following facts are quoted from the Second Report -of the "Children's Employment Commission."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_429" id="Page_429">[Pg 429]</a></span></p> - -<p class="i1">The moral and religious state of the children and -young persons employed in the trades and manufactures -of Birmingham, is described by the sub-commissioners -as very unfavourable. The social and domestic duties -and affections are but little cultivated and practised; -great numbers never attend any place of public worship; -and of the state of juvenile crime some conception may -be formed by the statement, that of the total number of -known or suspected offenders in this town, during the -twelve last months—namely, 1223—at least one-half -were under fifteen years of age.</p> - -<p class="i1">As to illicit sexual intercourse, it seems to prevail -almost universally, and from a very early period of life; -to this common conclusion witnesses of every rank give -testimony.</p> - -<p class="i1"><span class="sc">Wolverhampton.</span>—Of the moral condition of the -youthful population in the Wolverhampton district, Mr. -Horne says—"Putting together all I elicited from various -witnesses and conversations with working people, -abroad and at home, and all that fell under my observation, -I am obliged to come to the conclusion, that the -moral virtues of the great majority of the children are -as few in number and as feeble in practice as can well -be conceived in a civilized country, surrounded by religious -and educational institutions, and by individuals -anxious for the improvement of the condition of the -working classes."</p> - -<p class="i1">He adds of <span class="sc">Wittenhall</span>—"A lower condition of -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_430" id="Page_430">[Pg 430]</a></span> -morals, in the fullest sense of the term, could not, I -think, be found. I do not mean by this that there are -many more prominent vices among them, but that moral -feelings and sentiments do not exist among them. They -have no morals."</p> - -<p class="i1"><span class="sc">Sheffield.</span>—In all the Sheffield trades, employing -large numbers of children, it is stated that there is a -much closer intermixture of the younger children with -the elder youths, and with the men, than is usual in -the cotton, woollen, and flax factories; and that the -conversation to which the children are compelled to -listen, would debase their minds and blunt their moral -feelings even if they had been carefully and virtuously -educated, but that of course this result takes place -more rapidly and completely in the case of those who -have had little or no religious culture, and little but -bad example before their eyes from their cradle upward.</p> - -<p class="i1">Habits of drinking are formed at a very early age, -malt liquor being generally introduced into the workshops, -of which the youngest children are encouraged -to partake. "Very many," say the police-officers, -"frequent beer-shops, where they play at dominoes, -bagatelle, &c. for money or drink." Early intemperance -is assigned by the medical men as one cause of the -great mortality of Sheffield. "There are beer-houses," -says the Rev. Mr. Farish, "attended by youths exclusively, -for the men will not have them in the same houses -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_431" id="Page_431">[Pg 431]</a></span> -with themselves. In these beer-houses are youths of -both sexes encouraged to meet, and scenes destructive -of every vestige of virtue or morality ensue.</p> - -<p class="i1">But it is stated by all classes of witnesses, that "the -most revolting feature of juvenile depravity in this -town is early contamination from the association of the -sexes," that "juvenile prostitution is exceedingly common." -"The evidence," says the sub-commissioner, -"might have been doubled which attests the early -commencement of sexual and promiscuous intercourse -among boys and girls."</p> - -<p class="i1"><span class="sc">Sedgley.</span>—At Sedgley and the neighbouring villages, -the number of girls employed in nail-making -considerably exceeds that of the boys. Of these girls -Mr. Horne reports—"Their appearance, manners, habits, -and moral natures (so far as the word <i>moral</i> can -be applied to them) are in accordance with their half-civilized -condition. Constantly associating with ignorant -and depraved adults and young persons of the -opposite sex, they naturally fall into all their ways; -and drink, smoke, swear, throw off all restraint in word -and act, and become as bad as a man. The heat of -the forge and the hardness of the work renders few -clothes needful in winter; and in summer, the six or -seven individuals who are crowded into these little dens -find the heat almost suffocating. The men and boys -are usually naked, except a pair of trousers and an -open shirt, though they very often have no shirt; and -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_432" id="Page_432">[Pg 432]</a></span> -the women and girls have only a thin ragged petticoat, -and an open shirt without sleeves."</p> - -<p class="i1">In the mining districts, there is even more ignorance -and depravity than in the places where factories and -workshops abound. The nature of the work, and various -wants, such as no freemen would suffer from—want -of proper schools and proper amusements—induce -this state of things. An American visiting any of these -mining districts, would be astounded at the dulness, -ignorance, and viciousness that prevails among the -labourers—men and women, boys and girls. Many of -them are perfect heathens—never hearing of God except -when his awful name is "taken in vain." Of Christ -and his mission they hear somewhat, but know nothing -positively. Newspapers—those daily and weekly messengers -that keep Americans fully informed of the affairs -of the world—they seldom see. The gin-shop and -the brothel are their common resorts.</p> - -<p class="i1">Missionaries are wanted in Great Britain. Alas! -that in the middle of the nineteenth century, there -should be so many hundreds of thousands of people, in -the vicinity of a costly church establishment, without -any knowledge of the Bible!—that a professedly -Christian government should keep so many souls in -ignorance of Christianity!—that a country boasting -of its civilization and enlightenment should contain so -much darkness and depravity!</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_433" id="Page_433">[Pg 433]</a></span></p> - - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2><a name="CHAPTER_X" id="CHAPTER_X"></a>CHAPTER X.</h2> -</div> - -<p class="ac">COOLIE SLAVERY IN THE BRITISH COLONIES.</p> - - -<p class="i1"><span class="sc">The</span> British government emancipated the negro -slaves held under its authority in the West Indies, -thereby greatly depreciating the value of the islands, -permitting a half-tamed race to fall back into a state -of moral and mental darkness, and adding twenty millions -to the national debt, to be paid out of the sweat -and blood of her own white serfs. This was termed a -grand act of humanity; those who laboured for it have -been lauded and laurelled without stint, and English -writers have been exceedingly solicitous that the world -should not "burst in ignorance" of the achievement.</p> - -<div class="figcenter"><a name="i_433.jpg" id="i_433.jpg"></a> - <img src="images/i_433.jpg" - alt="" /> - <div class="caption">COOLIES.</div> -</div> - -<p class="i1">Being free, the negroes, with the indolence inherent -in their nature, would not work. Many purses suffered -in consequence, and the purse is a very tender place to -injure many persons. It became necessary to substitute -other labourers for the free negroes, and the -Coolies of India were taken to the Antilles for experiment. -These labourers were generally sober, -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_434" id="Page_434">[Pg 434]</a></span> -steady, and industrious. But how were they treated? -A colonist of Martinique, who visited Trinidad in -June, 1848, thus writes to the French author of a -treatise on free and slave labour:—</p> - -<div class="bq"> - -<p class="i1">"If I could fully describe to you the evils and suffering endured -by the Indian immigrants (Coolies) in that horribly governed -colony, I should rend the heart of the Christian world by a recital -of enormities unknown in the worst periods of colonial -slavery.</p> - -<p class="i1">"Borrowing the language of the prophet, I can truly say,'The -whole head is sick, and the whole heart is sad; from the sole of -the foot to the top of the head nothing is sound;' wounds, sores, -swollen ulcers, which are neither bandaged, nor soothed, nor -rubbed with oil.</p> - -<p class="i1">"My soul has been deeply afflicted by all that I have seen. -How many human beings lost! So far as I can judge, in spite -of their wasting away, all are young, perishing under the weight -of disease. Most of them are dropsical, for want of nourishment. -Groups of children, the most interesting I have ever seen, -scions of a race doomed to misfortune, were remarkable for their -small limbs, wrinkled and reduced to the size of spindles—and -not a rag to cover them! And to think that all this misery, all -this destruction of humanity, all this waste of the stock of a -ruined colony, might have been avoided, but has not been! -Great God! it is painful beyond expression to think that such a -neglect of duty and of humanity on the part of the colonial authorities, -as well of the metropolis as of the colony—a neglect -which calls for a repressive if not a retributive justice—will go -entirely unpunished, as it has hitherto done, notwithstanding the -indefatigable efforts of Colonel Fagan, the superintendent of the -immigrants in this colony, an old Indian officer of large experience, -of whom I have heard nothing but good, and never any -evil thing spoken, in all my travels through the island.</p> - -<p class="i1">"I am told that Colonel Fagan prepared a regulation for the government -and protection of the immigrants—which regulation -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_435" id="Page_435">[Pg 435]</a></span> -would probably realize, beyond all expectation, the object aimed -at; but scarcely had he commenced his operations when orders -arrived from the metropolis to suppress it, and substitute another -which proceeded from the ministry. The Governor, Mr. Harris, -displeased that his own regulation was thus annulled, pronounced -the new order impossible to be executed, and it was withdrawn -without having been properly tried. The minister sent another -order in regard to immigration, prepared in his hotel in Downing -street; but Governor Harris pronounced it to be still more difficult -of execution than the first, and it, too, failed. It is in this -manner that, from beginning to end, the affairs of the Indian -immigrants have been conducted. It was only necessary to treat -them with justice and kindness to render them—thanks to their -active superintendent—the best labourers that could be imported -into the colony. They are now protected neither by regulations -nor ordinances; no attention is paid to the experienced voice of -their superintendent—full of benevolence for them, and always -indefatigably profiting by what can be of advantage to them. -If disease renders a Coolie incapable of work, he is driven from -his habitation. This happens continually; he is not in that case -even paid his wages. What, then, can the unfortunate creature -do? Very different from the Creole or the African; far distant -from his country, without food, without money; disease, the -result of insufficient food and too severe labour, makes it impossible -for him to find employment. He drags himself into the -forests or upon the skirts of the roads, lies there and dies!</p> - -<p class="i1">"Some years since, the unfortunate Governor (Wall) of Gorea -was hung for having pitilessly inflicted a fatal corporal punishment -on a negro soldier found guilty of mutiny; and this soldier, -moreover, was under his orders. In the present case, I can prove -a neglect to a great extent murderous. The victims are Indian -Coolies of Trinidad. In less than one year, as is shown by -official documents, <i>two thousand</i> corpses of these unfortunate -creatures have furnished food to the crows of the island; and a -similar system is pursued, not only without punishment, but -without even forming the subject of an official inquest. Strange -and deplorable contradiction! and yet the nation which gives us -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_436" id="Page_436">[Pg 436]</a></span> -this example boasts of extending the ægis of its protection over -all its subjects, without distinction! It is this nation, also, that -complacently takes to itself the credit of extending justice equally -over all classes, over the lordly peer and the humblest subject, -without fear, favour, or affection!"</p></div> - -<p class="i1">In the Mauritius, the Coolies who have been imported -are in a miserable condition. The planters -have profited by enslaving these mild and gentle -Hindoos, and rendering them wretched.</p> - -<div class="bq"> - -<p class="i1">"By aid of continued Coolie immigration," says Mr. Henry C. -Carey,<a name="FNanchor_103_103" id="FNanchor_103_103"></a> -<a href="#Footnote_103_103" class="fnanchor">[103]</a> -"the export of sugar from the Mauritius has been doubled -in the last sixteen years, having risen from seventy to one hundred -and forty millions of pounds. Sugar is therefore very -cheap, and the foreign competition is thereby driven from the -British market. 'Such conquests,' however, says, very truly, the -London Spectator, 'don't always bring profit to the conqueror; -nor does production itself prove prosperity. Competition for the -possession of a field may be carried so far as to reduce prices -below prime cost; and it is clear, from the notorious facts of the -West Indies—from the change of property, from the total unproductiveness -of much property still—that the West India production -of sugar has been carried on not only without replacing -capital, but with a constant sinking of capital.' The 'free' -Coolie and the 'free' negro of Jamaica have been urged to competition -for the sale of sugar, and they seem likely to perish -together; but compensation for this is found in the fact that -'free trade has, in reducing the prices of commodities for home -consumption, enabled the labourer to devote a greater share of -his income toward purchasing clothing and luxuries, and has increased -the home trade to an enormous extent.' What effect this -reduction of 'the prices of commodities for home consumption' -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_437" id="Page_437">[Pg 437]</a></span> -has had upon the poor Coolies, may be judged from the following -passage:—'I here beheld, for the first time, a class of beings of -whom we have heard much, and for whom I have felt considerable -interest. I refer to the Coolies imported by the British government -to take the places of the <i>faineant</i> negroes, when the apprenticeship -system was abolished. Those I saw were wandering -about the streets, dressed rather tastefully, but always meanly, -and usually carrying over their shoulder a sort of <i>chiffonnier's</i> -sack, in which they threw whatever refuse stuff they found in the -streets or received as charity. Their figures are generally superb, -and their Eastern costume, to which they adhere as far as their -poverty will permit of any clothing, sets off their lithe and graceful -forms to great advantage. Their faces are almost uniformly -of the finest classic mould, and illuminated by pairs of those -dark, swimming, and propitiatory eyes which exhaust the language -of tenderness and passion at a glance. But they are the -most inveterate mendicants on the island. It is said that those -brought from the interior of India are faithful and efficient workmen, -while those from Calcutta and its vicinity are good for -nothing. Those that were prowling about the streets of Spanish -Town and Kingston, I presume were of the latter class, for there -is not a planter on the island, it is said, from whom it would be -more difficult to get any work than from one of them. They subsist -by begging altogether. They are not vicious nor intemperate, -nor troublesome particularly, except as beggars. In that calling -they have a pertinacity before which a Northern mendicant would -grow pale. They will not be denied. They will stand perfectly -still and look through a window from the street for a quarter of -an hour, if not driven away, with their imploring eyes fixed upon -you like a stricken deer, without saying a word or moving a -muscle. They act as if it were no disgrace for them to beg, as if -an indemnification which they are entitled to expect, for the outrage -perpetrated upon them in bringing them from their distant -homes to this strange island, is a daily supply of their few and -cheap necessities, as they call for them. I confess that their -begging did not leave upon my mind the impression produced by -ordinary mendicancy. They do not look as if they ought to -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_438" id="Page_438">[Pg 438]</a></span> -work. I never saw one smile; and though they showed no positive -suffering, I never saw one look happy. Each face seemed to -be constantly telling the unhappy story of their woes, and, like -fragments of a broken mirror, each reflecting in all its hateful -proportions the national outrage of which they are the victims.'"<a name="FNanchor_104_104" -id="FNanchor_104_104"></a><a href="#Footnote_104_104" class="fnanchor">[104]</a></p></div> - -<p class="i1">English writers have frequently charged the citizens -of the United States with being sordid, and caring -more for pecuniary profit than honourable principle. -No national measure of the great North American -Republic, however, is so deeply tainted with avaricious -motives as the colonial enactments and commercial -schemes of Great Britain. Witness the government -of British India, and the infamous traffic in opium -forced upon the Chinese. In the conveyance of Coolies -to the West Indies, and their treatment while toiling -in those islands, we see the same base spirit displayed. -All considerations of humanity have been sacrificed to -calculations of profit. A people, naturally mild and -intelligent, have been taken from their native land to -distant islands, to take the place of the fierce and barbarous -Africans, to whose civilization slavery seems -almost necessary; and in their new land of bondage -these poor creatures have been deprived of the inducements -to steady exertion, and left to beg or starve.</p> - -<p class="i1">After the passage of the act abolishing negro -slavery, an arrangement was sanctioned by the colonial -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_439" id="Page_439">[Pg 439]</a></span> -government for the introduction of Indian labourers -into the Mauritius, under a species of apprenticeship. -The Coolies were engaged at five rupees, equal -to ten shillings a month, for five years, with also one -pound of rice, a quarter of a pound of dhall, or grain—a -kind of pulse—and one ounce of butter, or ghee, -daily. But for every day they were absent from their -work they were to return two days to their masters, -who retained one rupee per month to pay an advance -made of six months' wages, and to defray the expense -of their passage. If these men came into Port Louis -to complain of their masters, they were lodged in the -Bagne prison till their masters were summoned! Before -the magistrates the masters had a great advantage -over their servants. The latter being foreigners, -but few of them could speak French, and they had no -one to assist them in pleading their cause. They -generally represented themselves as having been deceived -with respect to the kind of labour to be required -of them.<a name="FNanchor_105_105" id="FNanchor_105_105"></a> -<a href="#Footnote_105_105" class="fnanchor">[105]</a></p> - -<p class="i1">A large number of Indian convicts have been transported -to the Mauritius, and their slavery is deplorable. -Backhouse, who visited the island when these -poor wretches were not so numerous as they now are, -says—"Among the Indian convicts working on the -road, we noticed one wearing chains; several had a -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_440" id="Page_440">[Pg 440]</a></span> -slight single ring round the ankle. They are lodged in -huts with flat roofs, or in other inferior dwellings near -the road. There are about seven hundred of them in -the island. What renders them peculiarly objects of -sympathy is, that they were sent here for life, and no -hope of any remission of sentence is held out to them -for good conduct. Theirs is a hopeless bondage; and -though it is said by some that they are not hard worked, -yet they are generally, perhaps constantly, breaking -stones and mending the roads, and under a tropical -sun. There are among them persons who were so -young when transported that, in their offences, they -could only be looked on as the dupes of those who were -older, and many of them bear good characters."</p> - -<p class="i1">The hopeless slavery of these convicts is a doom -which displays, in a striking light, the characteristics -of British philanthropy. Death would be preferable to -such a punishment, in the estimation of many of the -Hindoos; but the British authorities are determined to -make the punishment pay! After the "eternal blazon" -concerning the act of emancipating negroes, for which -the pauperized labourers of Great Britain had to pay -by their slavery, the colonial government created -another system, attended with the misery and degradation -of a people better fitted for freedom than the -negroes. The civilized world is requested to look on -and admire!</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_441" id="Page_441">[Pg 441]</a></span></p> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XI" id="CHAPTER_XI"></a>CHAPTER XI.</h2> -</div> - -<p class="ac">SLAVERY IN BRITISH INDIA.</p> - - -<p class="i1"><span class="sc">The</span> extensive, populous, and wealthy peninsula of -Hindostan has suffered greatly from the crushing -effects of the British slave system. From the foundation -of the empire in India by Clive, conquest and -extortion seem to have been the grand objects of the -aristocratic government. There unscrupulous soldiers -have fought, slaughtered, enslaved, and plundered. -There younger sons, with rank, but without fortune, -have filled their purses. There vast and magnificent -tracts of country have been wasted with fire and sword, -in punishment for the refusal of native princes to become -slaves. There the fat of the land has been garnered -up for the luxury of the conquerors, while famine -has destroyed the people by thousands. There, indeed, -has the British aristocracy displayed its most malignant -propensities—rioting in robbery and bloodshed—setting -all religion at defiance, while upholding the -Christian standard—and earning to the full the continued -execration of mankind.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_442" id="Page_442">[Pg 442]</a></span></p> - -<p class="i1">In a powerful work, called "The Aristocracy of -England: a History for the People, by John Hampden, -Jun.," a book we commend to the people of -England, we have the following passage:—</p> - -<div class="bq"> - -<p class="i1">"From the hour that Clive and his coadjutors came into the discovery -of the vast treasures of the native princes, whence he himself -obtained, besides his jaghire of £30,000 per annum, about -£300,000; and he and his fellows altogether, between 1759 and -1763, no less than £5,940,498, exclusive of this said jaghire, the -cupidity of the aristocracy became excited to the highest degree; -and from that period to the present, India has been one scene of -flights of aristocratic locusts, of fighting, plundering, oppression, -and extortion of the natives. We will not go into these things; -they are fully and faithfully written in Mills's 'History of British -India;' in Howitt's 'Colonization and Christianity;' and, above -all, in the letters of the Honourable Frederick Shore, brother of -Lord Teignmouth, a man who passed through all offices—from a -clerk to that of a judge—and saw much of the system and working -of things in many parts of India. He published his letters -originally in the India papers, that any one on the spot might -challenge their truth; and, since his death, they have been -reprinted in England. The scene which that work opens up is -the most extraordinary, and demands the attention of every lover -of his country and his species. It fully accounts for the strange -facts, that India is now drained of its wealth; that its public -works, especially the tanks, which contributed by their waters to -maintain its fertility, are fallen to decay; that one-third of the -country is a jungle inhabited by tigers, who pay no taxes; that -its people are reduced to the utmost wretchedness, and are often, -when a crop fails, swept away by half a million at once by -famine and its pendant, pestilence, as in 1770, and again in -1838-9. To such a degree is this reduction of the wealth and -cultivation of India carried, that while others of our colonies pay -taxes to the amount of a pound or thirty shillings per head, India -pays only four shillings.</p></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_443" id="Page_443">[Pg 443]</a></span></p> - -<div class="bq"> - -<p class="i1">"At the renewal of its charter in 1834, its income was about -<i>twenty millions</i>, its debt about <i>forty millions</i>. Since then its income -has gradually fallen to about <i>seventeen millions</i>, and its -debt we hear now whispered to be about <i>seventy millions</i>. Such -have been the effects of exhausted fields and physical energies on -the one hand, and of wars, especially that of Afghanistan, on the -other. It requires no conjurer, much less a very profound arithmetician, -to perceive that at this rate we need be under no apprehension -of Russia, for a very few years will take India out of our -hands by mere financial force.</p> - -<p class="i1">"Our aristocratic government, through the Board of Control, -keep up and exert a vast patronage in India. The patronage of -the president of this board alone, independent of his salary of -£5000 a year, is about <i>twenty-one</i> thousand pounds. But the -whole aristocracy have an interest in keeping up wars in India, -that their sons as officers, especially in these times of European -peace, may find here both employment and promotion. This, -then, the Company has to contend against; and few are they -who are aware of the formidable nature of this power as it is exerted -in this direction, and of the strange and unconstitutional -legislative authority with which they have armed themselves for -this purpose. How few are they who are aware that, while the -East India Company has been blamed as the planners, authors, -and movers of the fatal and atrocious invasion of Caboul, that the -Directors of the Company only first, and to their great amazement, -learned the outbreak of that war from the public Indian -papers. So far from that war being one of their originating, it -was most opposed to their present policy, and disastrous to their -affairs. How then came this monstrous war about, and <i>who</i> then -did originate it? To explain this requires us to lay open a -monstrous stretch of unconstitutional power on the part of our -government—a monstrous stratagem for the maintenance of their -aristocratic views in India, which it is wonderful could have -escaped the notice and reprehension of the public. Let the -reader mark well what follows.</p> - -<p class="i1">"In the last charter, granted in 1834, a clause was introduced, -binding a secret committee of the East India Company, consisting -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_444" id="Page_444">[Pg 444]</a></span> -of three persons only, the chairman, deputy chairman, and senior -director, who are solemnly sworn to this work, to receive private -despatches from the Board of Control, and without communicating -them to a single individual besides themselves, to forward -them to India, where the receivers are bound, <i>without question or -appeal</i>, to enforce their immediate execution. By this inquisitorial -system, this worse than Spanish or Venetian system of secret -decrees, government has reserved to itself a direction of the -affairs of India, freed from all constitutional or representative -check, and reduced the India Company to a mere cat's-paw. By -the sworn secrecy and implicit obedience of this mysterious triumvirate, -the Company is made the unconscious instrument of -measures most hostile to its own views, and most fatal to its best -interests. It may at any hour become the medium of a secret -order which may threaten the very destruction of its empire. -Such was the case with the war of Caboul. The aristocratic -government at home planned and ordered it; and the unconscious -Company was made at once to carry out a scheme so -atrocious, so wicked and unprincipled, as well as destructive to -its plans of civil economy, and to bear also the infamy of it. -Awaking, therefore, to the tremendous nature of the secret powers -thus introduced into their machinery by government, the Company -determined to exercise also a power happily intrusted to -<i>them</i>. Hence the recall of Lord Ellenborough, who, in obedience -to aristocratic views at home, was not only running headlong -over all their plans of pacific policy, but with his armies and elephants -was treading under foot their cotton and sugar plantations. -Hence, on the other hand, the favour and support which this -warlike lord finds with the great martial duke, and the home -government."</p></div> - -<p class="i1">The policy of the European conquerors of India was -fully illustrated during the gubernatorial term of Warren -Hastings. Of his extortion the eloquent Macaulay -says—</p> - -<div class="bq"> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_445" id="Page_445">[Pg 445]</a></span></p> - -<p class="i1">"The principle which directed all his dealings with his neighbours -is fully expressed by the old motto of one of the great -predatory families of Teviotdale—'Thou shalt want ere I want,' -He seems to have laid it down, as a fundamental proposition -which could not be disputed, that when he had not as many lacs -of rupees as the public service required, he was to take them from -anybody who had. One thing, indeed, is to be said in excuse for -him. The pressure applied to him by his employers at home was -such as only the highest virtue could have withstood—such as -left him no choice except to commit great wrongs, or to resign -his high post, and with that post all his hopes of fortune and distinction. -It is perfectly true, that the directors never enjoined -or applauded any crime. Far from it. Whoever examines their -letters at that time will find there many just and humane sentiments, -many excellent precepts; in short, an admirable circle of -political ethics. But every exhortation is modified or annulled -by a demand for money. 'Govern leniently, and send more -money; practise strict justice and moderation toward neighbouring -powers, and send more money;' this is, in truth, the sum of -almost all the instructions that Hastings ever received from -home. Now these instructions, being interpreted, mean simply, -'Be the father and the oppressor of the people; be just and unjust, -moderate and rapacious.' The directors dealt with India -as the church, in the good old times, dealt with a heretic. They -delivered the victim over to the executioners, with an earnest -request that all possible tenderness might be shown. We by no -means accuse or suspect those who framed these despatches of -hypocrisy. It is probable that, writing fifteen thousand miles -from the place where their orders were to be carried into effect, -they never perceived the gross inconsistency of which they were -guilty. But the inconsistency was at once manifest to their -lieutenant at Calcutta, who, with an empty treasury, with an unpaid -army, with his own salary often in arrear, with deficient -crops, with government tenants daily running away, was called -upon to remit home another half million without fail. Hastings -saw that it was absolutely necessary for him to disregard either -the moral discourses or the pecuniary requisitions of his employers. -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_446" id="Page_446">[Pg 446]</a></span> -Being forced to disobey them in something, he had to -consider what kind of disobedience they would most readily pardon; -and he correctly judged that the safest course would be to -neglect the sermons and to find the rupees."</p></div> - -<p class="i1">How were the rupees found? By selling provinces -that had never belonged to the British dominions; by -the destruction of the brave Rohillas of Rohilcund, in -the support of the cruel tyrant, Surajah Dowlah, sovereign -of Oude, of which terrible act Macaulay says—</p> - -<div class="bq"> - -<p class="i1">"Then the horrors of Indian war were let loose on the fair -valleys and cities of Rohilcund; the whole country was in a blaze. -More than a hundred thousand people fled from their homes to -pestilential jungles, preferring famine and fever and the haunts -of tigers to the tyranny of him to whom an English and a Christian -government had, for shameful lucre, sold their substance and -their blood, and the honour of their wives and daughters. Colonel -Champion remonstrated with the Nabob Vizier, and sent strong -representations to Fort William; but the governor had made no -conditions as to the mode in which the war was to be carried on. -He had troubled himself about nothing but his forty lacs; and, -though he might disapprove of Surajah Dowlah's wanton barbarity, -he did not think himself entitled to interfere, except by offering -advice. This delicacy excites the admiration of the reverend biographer. -'Mr. Hastings,' he says, 'could not himself dictate to -the Nabob, nor permit the commander of the Company's troops -to dictate how the war was to be carried on.' No, to be sure. -Mr. Hastings had only to put down by main force the brave struggles -of innocent men fighting for their liberty. Their military -resistance crushed, his duties ended; and he had then only to -fold his arms and look on while their villages were burned, their -children butchered, and their women violated."</p></div> - -<p class="i1">By such a course of action, Warren Hastings made -the British empire in India pay. By such means did -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_447" id="Page_447">[Pg 447]</a></span> -the aristocrats, of whom the governor was the tool, -obtain the money which would enable them to live in -luxury.</p> - -<div class="bq"> - -<p class="i1">"The servants of the Company obtained—not for their employers, -but for themselves—a monopoly of almost the whole internal -trade; they forced the natives to buy dear and sell cheap; they -insulted with perfect impunity the tribunals, the police, and the -fiscal authorities of the country; they covered with their protection -a set of native dependants, who ranged through the provinces -spreading desolation and terror wherever they appeared. Every -servant of a British factor was armed with all the power of his -master, and his master was armed with all the power of the Company. -Enormous fortunes were thus rapidly accumulated at -Calcutta, while thirty millions of human beings were reduced to -the last extremity of wretchedness. They had been accustomed -to live under tyranny, but never under tyranny like this; they -found the little finger of the Company thicker than the loins of -Surajah Dowlah. Under their old masters they had at least one -resource; when the evil became insupportable, they rose and -pulled down the government. But the English government was -not to be so shaken off. That government, oppressive as the most -oppressive form of barbarian despotism, was strong with all the -strength of civilization; it resembled the government of evil genii -rather than the government of human tyrants." * * *</p> - -<p class="i1">"The foreign lords of Bengal were naturally objects of hatred -to all the neighbouring powers, and to all the haughty race presented -a dauntless front; their armies, everywhere outnumbered, -were everywhere victorious. A succession of commanders, formed -in the school of Clive, still maintained the fame of their country. -'It must be acknowledged,' says the Mussulman historian of those -times, 'that this nation's presence of mind, firmness of temper, -and undaunted bravery are past all question. They join the -most resolute courage to the most cautious prudence; nor have -they their equal in the art of ranging themselves in battle array -and fighting in order. If to so many military qualifications they -knew how to join the arts of government—if they exerted as much -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_448" id="Page_448">[Pg 448]</a></span> -ingenuity and solicitude in relieving the people of God as they -do in whatever concerns their military affairs, no nation in the -world would be preferable to them or worthier of command; but -the people under their dominion groan everywhere, and are reduced -to poverty and distress. O God! come to the assistance -of thine afflicted servants, and deliver them from the oppressions -they suffer.'"</p></div> - -<p class="i1">From the earliest times the "village system," with -its almost patriarchal regulations, seems to have prevailed -in Hindostan. Each village had its distinct -organization, and over a certain number of villages, or -a district, was an hereditary chief and an accountant, -both possessing great local influence and authority, and -certain estates.<a name="FNanchor_106_106" id="FNanchor_106_106"></a> -<a href="#Footnote_106_106" class="fnanchor">[106]</a> The Hindoos were strongly attached -to their native villages, and could only be forced to -abandon them by the most constant oppressions. Dynasties -might change and revolutions occur, but so long -as each little community remained undisturbed, the -Hindoos were contented. Mohammedan conquerors left -this beautiful system, which had much more of genuine -freedom than the British institutions at the present day, -untouched. The English conquerors were not so merciful, -although they were acquainted with Christianity. -The destruction of local organizations and the centralization -of authority, which is always attended with the -increase of slavery,<a name="FNanchor_107_107" id="FNanchor_107_107"></a> -<a href="#Footnote_107_107" class="fnanchor">[107]</a> have been the aims of English -efforts. The principle that the government is the sole -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_449" id="Page_449">[Pg 449]</a></span> -proprietor of the land, and therefore entitled to a large -share of the produce, has been established, and slavery, -to escape famine and misery, has become necessary to -the Hindoos.</p> - -<p class="i1">Exhaustion was the result of the excessive taxation -laid upon the Hindoos by the East India Company. As -the government became stinted for revenue, Lord Cornwallis -was instructed to make a permanent settlement, -by means of which all the rights of village proprietors -over a large portion of Bengal were sacrificed in favour -of the Zemindars, or head men, who were thus at once -constituted great landed proprietors—masters of a large -number of poor tenants, with power to punish at discretion -those who were not able to pay whatever rent was -demanded.<a name="FNanchor_108_108" id="FNanchor_108_108"></a> -<a href="#Footnote_108_108" class="fnanchor">[108]</a> From free communities, the villages were -reduced to the condition of British tenants-at-will. The -Zemindaree system was first applied to Bengal. In -Madras another system, called the Ryotwar, was introduced. -This struck a fatal blow at the local organizations, -which were the sources of freedom and happiness -among the Hindoos. Government assumed all the -functions of an immediate landholder, and dealt with -the individual cultivators as its own tenants, getting as -much out of them as possible.</p> - -<p class="i1">The Zemindars are an unthrifty, rack-renting class, -and take the uttermost farthing from the under-tenants. -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_450" id="Page_450">[Pg 450]</a></span> -Oppressions and evictions are their constant employments; -and since they have been constituted a landed -aristocracy, they have fully acted out the character in -the genuine British fashion.</p> - -<p class="i1">Another tenure, called the Patnee, has been established -of late years, by some of the great Zemindars, with the -aid of government enactments, and it is very common in -Bengal. The great Zemindar, for a consideration, makes -over a portion of his estate in fee to another, subject to -a perpetual rent, payable through the collector, who receives -it on behalf of the zemindar; and if it is not paid, -the interests of the patneedar are sold by the collector. -These, again, have sub-patneedars, and the system has -become very much in vogue in certain districts. The -parties are like the Irish middlemen, and the last screws -the tenant to the uttermost.<a name="FNanchor_109_109" id="FNanchor_109_109"></a> -<a href="#Footnote_109_109" class="fnanchor">[109]</a></p> - -<p class="i1">During the British government of Bengal, wealth has -been accumulated by a certain superior class, and population, -cultivation, and the receipts from rent of land, -have largely increased; but, as in England, the mass of -the people are poor and degraded. In the rich provinces -of Upper India, where the miserable landed system of -the conquerors has been introduced, the results have -been even more deplorable. Communities, once free, -happy, and possessed of plenty, are now broken up, or -subjected to such excessive taxation that their members -are kept in poverty and slavery.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_451" id="Page_451">[Pg 451]</a></span></p> - -<p class="i1">Colonel Sleeman, in his "Rambles and Recollections of -an Indian Official," records a conversation which he held -with the head landholder of a village, organized under -the Zemindar system. During the dialogue, some statements -were made which are important for our purpose.</p> - -<p class="i1">The colonel congratulated himself that he had given -satisfactory replies to the arguments of the Zemindar, -and accounted naturally for the evils suffered by the -villagers. The reader will, doubtless, form a different -opinion:—</p> - -<div class="bq"> - -<p class="i1">"In the early part of November, after a heavy fall of rain, I -was driving alone in my buggy from Garmuktesin on the Ganges, -to Meerut. The roads were very bad, the stage a double one, and -my horse became tired and unable to go on. I got out at a small -village to give him a little rest and food; and sat down under the -shade of one old tree upon the trunk of another that the storm -had blown down, while my groom, the only servant I had with me, -rubbed down and baited my horse. I called for some parched -grain from the same shop which supplied my horse, and got a -draught of good water, drawn from the well by an old woman, in -a brass jug lent to me for the purpose by the shopkeeper.</p> - -<p class="i1">"While I sat contentedly and happily stripping my parched -grain from its shell, and eating it grain by grain, the farmer, or -head landholder of the village, a sturdy old Rajpoot, came up and -sat himself, without any ceremony, down by my side, to have a -little conversation. [To one of the dignitaries of the land, in whose -presence the aristocracy are alone considered entitled to chairs, -this easy familiarity seems at first strange and unaccountable; he is -afraid that the man intends to offer him some indignity, or what is -still worse, mistakes him for something less than a dignitary! -The following dialogue took place:—]</p> - -<p class="i1">"'You are a Rajpoot, and a Zemindar?' (landholder.)</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Yes; I am the head landholder of this village.'</p></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_452" id="Page_452">[Pg 452]</a></span></p> - -<div class="bq"> - -<p class="i1">"'Can you tell me how that village in the distance is elevated -above the ground; is it from the debris of old villages, or from a -rock underneath?'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'It is from the debris of old villages. That is the original seat -of all the Rajpoots around; we all trace our descent from the -founders of that village, who built and peopled it many centuries -ago.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'And you have gone on subdividing your inheritances here as -elsewhere, no doubt, till you have hardly any of you any thing to -eat?'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'True, we have hardly any of us enough to eat; but that is -the fault of the government, that does not leave us enough—that -takes from us as much when the season is bad as when it is -good!'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'But your assessment has not been increased, has it?'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'No; we have concluded a settlement for twenty years upon -the same footing as formerly.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'And if the sky were to shower down upon you pearls and -diamonds, instead of water, the government would never demand -more from you than the rate fixed upon?'</p> - -<p class="i1">'No.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Then why should you expect remissions in bad seasons?'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'It cannot be disputed that the <i>burkut</i> (blessing from above) -is less under you than it used to be formerly, and that the lands -yield less from our labour.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'True, my old friend, but do you know the reason why?'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'No.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Then I will tell you. Forty or fifty years ago, in what you -call the times of the <i>burkut</i>, (blessing from above,) the cavalry of -Seikh, free-booters from the Punjab, used to sweep over this fine -plain, in which stands the said village from which you are all descended; -and to massacre the whole population of some villages; -and a certain portion of that of every other village; and the -lands of those killed used to lie waste for want of cultivators. Is -not this all true?'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Yes, quite true.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'And the fine groves which had been planted over this plain -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_453" id="Page_453">[Pg 453]</a></span> -by your ancestors, as they separated from the great parent stock, -and formed independent villages and hamlets for themselves, -were all swept away and destroyed by the same hordes of free-booters, -from whom your poor imbecile emperors, cooped up in -yonder large city of Delhi, were utterly unable to defend you?'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Quite true,' said the old man with a sigh. 'I remember -when all this fine plain was as thickly studded with fine groves -of mango-trees as Rohilcund, or any other part of India.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'You know that the land requires rest from labour, as well as -men and bullocks; and that if you go on sowing wheat, and other -exhausting crops, it will go on yielding less and less returns, and -at last not be worth the tilling?'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Quite well.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Then why do you not give the land rest by leaving it longer -fallow, or by a more frequent alternation of crops relieve it?'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Because we have now increased so much, that we should not -get enough to eat were we to leave it to fallow; and unless we -tilled it with exhausting crops we should not get the means of paying -our rents to government.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'The Seikh hordes in former days prevented this; they killed -off a certain portion of your families, and gave the land the <i>rest</i> -which you now refuse it. When you had exhausted one part, you -found another recovered by a long fallow, so that you had better -returns; but now that we neither kill you, nor suffer you to be -killed by others, you have brought all the cultivable lands into -tillage; and under the old system of cropping to exhaustion, it -is not surprising that they yield you less returns.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"By this time we had a crowd of people seated around us upon -the ground, as I went on munching my parched grain and talking -to the old patriarch. They all laughed at the old man at the -conclusion of my last speech, and he confessed I was right.</p> - -<p class="i1">"'This is all true, sir, but still your government is not considerate; -it goes on taking kingdom after kingdom and adding to -its dominions, without diminishing the burden upon us its old subjects. -Here you have had armies away taking Afghanistan, but -we shall not have one rupee the less to pay.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'True, my friend, nor would you demand a rupee less from -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_454" id="Page_454">[Pg 454]</a></span> -those honest cultivators around us, if we were to leave you all -your lands untaxed. You complain of the government—they -complain of you. [Here the circle around us laughed at the old -man again.] Nor would you subdivide the lands the less for -having it rent free; on the contrary, it would be every generation -subdivided the more, inasmuch as there would be more of local -ties, and a greater disinclination on the part of the members of -families to separate and seek service abroad.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'True, sir, very true; that is, no doubt, a very great evil.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'And you know it is not an evil produced by us, but one -arising out of your own laws of inheritance. You have heard, -no doubt, that with us the eldest son gets the whole of the land, -and the younger sons all go out in search of service, with such -share as they can get of the other property of their father?'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Yes, sir; but where shall we get service—you have none to -give us. I would serve to-morrow, if you would take me as a -soldier,' said he, stroking his white whiskers.</p> - -<p class="i1">"The crowd laughed heartily, and some wag observed, 'that -perhaps I should think him too old.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Well,' said the old man, smiling, 'the gentleman himself is -not very young, and yet I dare say he is a good servant of his -government.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"This was paying me off for making the people laugh at his -expense. 'True, my old friend,' said I, 'but I began to serve -when I was young, and have been long learning.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Very well,' said the old man; 'but I should be glad to serve -the rest of my life upon a less salary than you got when you -began to learn.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Well, my friend, you complain of our government; but you -must acknowledge that we do all we can to protect you, though -it is true that we are often acting in the dark.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Often, sir? you are always acting in the dark; you hardly -any of you know any thing of what your revenue and police officers -are doing; there is no justice or redress to be got without -paying for it; and it is not often that those who pay can get it.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'True, my old friend, that is bad all over the world. You -cannot presume to ask any thing even from the Deity himself, -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_455" id="Page_455">[Pg 455]</a></span> -without paying the priest who officiates in his temples; and if -you should, you would none of you hope to get from your deity -what you asked for.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"Here the crowd laughed again, and one of them said 'that -there was certainly this to be said for our government, that the -European gentlemen themselves never took bribes, whatever those -under them might do.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'You must not be too sure of that neither. Did not the Lal -Beebee (red lady) get a bribe for soliciting the judge, her husband, -to let go Ameer Sing, who had been confined in jail?'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'How did this take place?'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'About three years ago Ameer Sing was sentenced to imprisonment, -and his friends spent a great deal of money in bribes to -the native officers of the court, but all in vain. At last they were -recommended to give a handsome present to the red lady. They -did so, and Ameer Sing was released.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'But did they give the present into the lady's own hand?'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'No, they gave it to one of her women.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'And how do you know that she ever gave it to her mistress, -or that her mistress ever heard of the transaction?'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'She might certainly have been acting without her mistress's -knowledge; but the popular belief is, that Lal Beebee got the -present.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"I then told them the story of the affair at Jubbulpore, when -Mrs. Smith's name had been used for a similar purpose, and the -people around us were highly amused; and the old man's opinion -of the transaction evidently underwent a change.<a name="FNanchor_110_110" -id="FNanchor_110_110"></a><a href="#Footnote_110_110" class="fnanchor">[110]</a></p></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_456" id="Page_456">[Pg 456]</a></span></p> - -<div class="bq"> - -<p class="i1">"We became good friends, and the old man begged me to have -my tents, which he supposed were coming up, pitched among -them, that he might have an opportunity of showing that he was -not a bad subject, though he grumbled against the government.</p> - -<p class="i1">"The next day, at Meerut, I got a visit from the chief native -judge, whose son, a talented youth, is in my office. Among other -things, I asked him whether it might not be possible to improve -the character of the police by increasing the salaries of the officers, -and mentioned my conversation with the landholder.</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Never, sir,' said the old gentleman; 'the man that now gets -twenty-five rupees a month, is contented with making perhaps -fifty or seventy-five more; and the people subject to his authority -pay him accordingly. Give him a hundred, sir, and he will put -a shawl over his shoulders, and the poor people will be obliged -to pay him at a rate which will make up his income to four hundred. -You will only alter his style of living, and make him a -greater burden to the people; he will always take as long as he -thinks he can with impunity.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'But do you not think that when people see a man adequately -paid by government, they will the more readily complain at any -attempt at unauthorized exactions?'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Not a bit, sir, as long as they see the same difficulties in the -way of prosecuting them to conviction. In the administration -of civil justice (the old gentleman is a civil judge) you may occasionally -see your way, and understand what is doing; but in -revenue and police you have never seen it in India, and never -will, I think. The officers you employ will all add to their incomes -by unauthorized means; and the lower their incomes, the -less their pretensions, and the less the populace have to pay.'"</p></div> - -<p class="i1">In the "History of the Possessions of the Honourable -East India Company," by R. Montgomery Martin, F. S. -S., the following statements occur: -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_457" id="Page_457">[Pg 457]</a></span>—</p> - -<div class="bq"> - -<p class="i1">"The following estimate has been made of the population of the -allied and independent states:—Hydrabad, 10,000,000; Oude, -6,000,000; Nagpoor, 3,000,000; Mysore, 3,000,000; Sattara, -1,500,000; Gurckwar, 2,000,000; Travancore and Cochin, 1,000,000; -Rajpootana, and various minor principalities, 16,500,000; Sciudias -territories, 4,000,000; the Seiks, 3,000,000; Nepál, 2,000,000; -Cashmere, etc., 1,000,000; Scinde, 1,000,000; total, 51,000,000. -This, of course, is but a rough estimate by Hamilton, (Slavery in -British India.) For the last forty years the East India Company's -government have been gradually, but safely, abolishing slavery -throughout their dominions; they began in 1789 with putting -down the maritime traffic, by prosecuting any person caught in -exporting or importing slaves by sea, long before the British government -abolished that infernal commerce in the Western world, -and they have ever since sedulously sought the final extinction of -that domestic servitude which had long existed throughout the -East, as recognised by the Hindoo and Mohammedan law. In -their despatches of 1798, it was termed '<i>an inhuman commerce -and cruel traffic</i>.' French, Dutch, or Danish subjects captured -within the limit of their dominions in the act of purchasing or -conveying slaves were imprisoned and heavily fined, and every -encouragement was given to their civil and military servants to -aid in protecting the first rights of humanity.</p> - -<p class="i1">"Mr. Robertson,<a name="FNanchor_111_111" id="FNanchor_111_111"></a> -<a href="#Footnote_111_111" class="fnanchor">[111]</a> -in reference to Cawnpore, observes:—'Domestic -slavery exists; but of an agricultural slave I do not recollect -a single instance. When I speak of <i>domestic</i> slavery, I mean -that <i>status</i> which I must call slavery for want of any more accurate -designation. It does not, however, resemble that which is -understood in Europe to be slavery; it is the mildest species of -servitude. The domestic slaves are certain persons purchased in -times of scarcity; children purchased from their parents; they -grow up in the family, and are almost entirely employed in domestic -offices in the house; not liable to be resold.</p> - -<p class="i1">"'There is a certain species of slavery in South Bahar, where -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_458" id="Page_458">[Pg 458]</a></span> -a man mortgages his labour for a certain sum of money; and this -species of slavery exists also in Arracan and Ava. It is for his -life, or until he shall pay the sum, that he is obliged to labour for -the person who lends him the money; and if he can repay the -sum, he emancipates himself.</p> - -<p class="i1">"'Masters have no power of punishment recognised by our -laws. Whatever may be the provision of the Mohammedan or Hindoo -codes to that effect, it is a dead letter, for we would not recognise -it. The master doubtless may sometimes inflict domestic -punishment; but if he does, the slave rarely thinks of complaining -of it. Were he to do so his complaint would be received.' -This, in fact, is the palladium of liberty in England.</p> - -<p class="i1">"In Malabar, according to the evidence of Mr. Baber, slavery, -as mentioned by Mr. Robertson, also exists, and perhaps the same -is the case in Guzerat and to the north; but the wonder is, not -that such is the case, but that it is so partial in extent, and fortunately -so bad in character, approximating indeed so much toward -the feudal state as to be almost beyond the reach as well as the -necessity of laws which at present would be practically inoperative. -The fact, that of 100,000,000 British inhabitants, [or allowing -five to a family, 20,000,000 families,] upward of 16,000,000 -are landed proprietors, shows to what a confined extent even domestic -slavery exists. A commission has been appointed by the -new charter to inquire into this important but delicate subject.'"</p></div> - -<p class="i1">We have quoted this passage from a writer who is a -determined advocate of every thing <i>British</i>, whether it -be good or had, in order to show by his own admission -that chattel slavery, that is the precise form of slavery -of which the British express such a holy horror, exists -in British India under the sanction of British laws. -Nor does it exist to a small extent only, as he would -have us believe. It has always existed there, and must -necessarily be on the increase, from the very cause -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_459" id="Page_459">[Pg 459]</a></span> -which he points out, viz. famine. No country in the -world, thanks to British oppression, is so frequently -and so extensively visited by famine as India; and as -the natives can escape in many instances from starving -to death by selling themselves, and can save their children -by selling them into slavery, we can readily form -an estimate of the great extent to which this takes -place in cases of famine, where the people are perishing -by thousands and tens of thousands. As to the -statement that the government of the East India Company -have been endeavouring to abolish this species of -slavery, it proves any thing rather than a desire to -benefit the natives of India. Chattel slaves are not -desired by British subjects because the ownership of -them involves the necessity of supporting them in sickness -and old age. The kind of slavery which the -British have imposed on the great mass of their East -Indian subjects is infinitely more oppressive and inhuman -than chattel slavery. Indeed it would not at all -suit the views of the British aristocracy to have chattel -slavery become so fashionable in India as to interfere -with their own cherished system of political slavery, -which is so extensively and successfully practised in -England, Scotland, Ireland, and the West and East -Indies. The money required for the support of chattel -slaves could not be spared by the aristocratic governments -in the colonies. The object is to take the fruits -of the labourer's toil without providing for him at all. -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_460" id="Page_460">[Pg 460]</a></span> -When labourers are part of a master's capital, the -better he provides for them the more they are worth. -When they are not property, the character of their subsistence -is of no importance; but they must yield the -greater part of the results of their toil.</p> - -<p class="i1">The "salt laws" of India are outrageously oppressive. -An account of their operation will give the -reader a taste of the character of the legislation to -which the British have subjected conquered Hindoos. -Such an account we find in a recent number of -"Household Words," which Lord Shaftesbury and his -associates in luxury and philanthropy should read more -frequently than we can suppose they do:—</p> - -<div class="bq"> - -<p class="i1">"Salt, in India, is a government monopoly. It is partially imported, -and partially manufactured in government factories. -These factories are situated in dreary marshes—the workers obtaining -certain equivocal privileges, on condition of following -their occupation in these pestiferous regions, where hundreds of -these wretched people fall, annually, victims to the plague or the -floods.</p> - -<p class="i1">"The salt consumed in India must be purchased through the -government, at a duty of upward of two pounds per ton, making -the price to the consumer about eight pence per pound. In England, -salt may be purchased by retail, three pounds, or wholesale, -five pounds for one penny; while in India, upward of thirty -millions of persons, whose average incomes do not amount to -above three shillings per week, are compelled to expend one-fourth -of that pittance in salt for themselves and families.</p> - -<p class="i1">"It may naturally be inferred, that, with such a heavy duty -upon this important necessary of life, that underhand measures -are adopted by the poor natives for supplying themselves. We -shall see, however, by the following severe regulations, that the -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_461" id="Page_461">[Pg 461]</a></span> -experiment is too hazardous to be often attempted. Throughout -the whole country there are numerous 'salt chokies,' or police -stations, the superintendents of which are invested with powers -of startling and extraordinary magnitude.</p> - -<p class="i1">"When information is lodged with such superintendent that -salt is stored in any place without a '<i>ruwana</i>,' or permit, he proceeds -to collect particulars of the description of the article, the -quantity stated to be stored, and the name of the owner of the -store. If the quantity stated to be stored exceeds seventy -pounds, he proceeds with a body of police to make the seizure. -If the door is not opened to him at once, he is invested with full -power to break it open; and if the police-officers exhibit the least -backwardness in assisting, or show any sympathy with the unfortunate -owner, they are liable to be heavily fined. The owner -of the salt, with all persons found upon the premises, are immediately -apprehended, and are liable to six months' imprisonment -for the first offence, twelve for the second, and eighteen -months for the third; so that if a poor Indian was to see a shower -of salt in his garden, (there <i>are</i> showers of salt sometimes,) and -to attempt to take advantage of it without paying duty, he would -become liable to this heavy punishment. The superintendent of -police is also empowered to detain and search trading vessels, -and if salt be found on board without a permit, the whole of the -crew may be apprehended and tried for the offence. Any person -erecting a distilling apparatus in his own house, merely to distil -enough sea-water for the use of his household, is liable to such a -fine as may ruin him. In this case, direct proof is not required, -but inferred from circumstances at the discretion of the judge.</p> - -<p class="i1">"If a person wishes to erect a factory upon his own estate, he -must first give notice to the collector of revenue of all the particulars -relative thereto, failing which, the collector may order -all the works to be destroyed. Having given notice, officers are -immediately quartered upon the premises, who have access to all -parts thereof, for fear the company should be defrauded of the -smallest amount of duty. When duty <i>is</i> paid upon any portion, -the collector, upon giving a receipt, specifies the name and residence -of the person to whom it is to be delivered, to whom it -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_462" id="Page_462">[Pg 462]</a></span> -<i>must</i> be delivered within a stated period, or become liable to -fresh duty. To wind up, and make assurance doubly sure, the -police may seize and detain any load or package which may pass -the stations, till they are satisfied such load or package does not -contain contraband salt.</p> - -<p class="i1">"Such are the salt laws of India; such the monopoly by which -a revenue of three millions sterling is raised; and such the system -which, in these days of progress and improvement, acts as an -incubus upon the energies, the mental resources, and social advancement -of the immense population of India.</p> - -<p class="i1">"Political economists of all shades of opinion—men who have -well studied the subject—deliberately assert that nothing would -tend so much toward the improvement of that country, and to a -more complete development of its vast natural resources, than -the abolition of these laws; and we can only hope, without -blaming any one, that at no distant day a more enlightened -policy will pervade the councils of the East India Company, and -that the poor Hindoo will be emancipated from the thraldom of -these odious enactments.</p> - -<p class="i1">"But apart from every other consideration, there is one, in -connection with the Indian salt-tax, which touches the domestic -happiness and vital interest of every inhabitant in Great Britain. -It is decided, by incontrovertible medical testimony, that cholera -(whose ravages every individual among us knows something, -alas! too well about) is in a great measure engendered, and its -progress facilitated, by the prohibitory duties on salt in India, -the very cradle of the pestilence. Our precautionary measures -to turn aside the plague from our doors, appear to be somewhat -ridiculous, while the plague itself is suffered to exist, when it -might be destroyed—its existence being tolerated only to administer -to the pecuniary advantage of a certain small class of the -community. Let the medical men of this country look to it. -Let the people of this country generally look to it; for there is -matter for grave and solemn consideration, both nationally and -individually, in the Indian salt-tax."</p></div> - -<p class="i1">Yes, the salt-tax is very oppressive; but it <i>pays</i> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_463" id="Page_463">[Pg 463]</a></span> -those who authorized its assessment, and that is -sufficient for them. When they discover some means -of obtaining its equivalent—some oppression quite as -cruel but not so obvious—we may expect to hear of -the abolition of the odious salt monopoly.</p> - -<p class="i1">Famines (always frightfully destructive in India) -have become more numerous than ever, under the -blighting rule of the British aristocrats. Vast tracts -of country, once the support of busy thousands, have -been depopulated by these dreadful visitations.</p> - -<div class="bq"> - -<p class="i1">"The soil seems to lie under a curse. Instead of yielding -abundance for the wants of its own population and the inhabitants -of other regions, it does not keep in existence its own children. -It becomes the burying-place of millions who die upon its -bosom crying for bread. In proof of this, turn your eyes backward -upon the scenes of the past year. Go with me into the -North-west provinces of the Bengal presidency, and I will show -you the bleaching skeletons of five hundred thousand human -beings, who perished of hunger in the space of a few short -months. Yes, died of hunger, in what has been justly called the -granary of the world. Bear with me, if I speak of the scenes -which were exhibited during the prevalence of this famine. The -air for miles was poisoned by the effluvia emitted from the putrefying -bodies of the dead. The rivers were choked with the -corpses thrown into their channels. Mothers cast their little ones -beneath the rolling waves, because they would not see them draw -their last gasp and feel them stiffen in their arms. The English -in the cities were prevented from taking their customary evening -drives. Jackals and vultures approached, and fastened upon the -bodies of men, women, and children before life was extinct. -Madness, disease, despair stalked abroad, and no human power -present to arrest their progress. It was the carnival of death. -And this occurred in British India—in the reign of Victoria the -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_464" id="Page_464">[Pg 464]</a></span> -First. Nor was the event extraordinary and unforeseen. Far -from it: 1835-36 witnessed a famine in the Northern provinces; -1833 beheld one to the eastward; 1822-23 saw one in the -Deccan."</p></div> - -<p class="i1">The above extract from one of George Thompson's -"Lectures on India," conveys an idea of the horrors -of a famine in that country. What then must be the -guilt of that government that adopts such measures as -tend to increase the frequency and swell the horror of -these scenes! By draining the resources of the people, -and dooming them to the most pinching poverty, the -British conquerors have greatly increased the dangers -of the visitations of famine, and opened to it a wide field -for destruction. The poor Hindoos may be said to live -face to face with starvation. The following account of -the famine of 1833 is given by Colonel Sleeman, in -his "Rambles and Recollections:"—</p> - -<div class="bq"> - -<p class="i1">"During the famine of 1833, as on all similar occasions, grain -of every kind, attracted by high prices, flowed up in large streams -from this favoured province (Malwa) toward Bundelcund; and -the population of Bundelcund, as usual in such times of dearth and -scarcity, flowed off toward Malwa against the stream of supply, -under the assurance that the nearer they got to the source the -greater would be their chance of employment and subsistence. -Every village had its numbers of the dead and the dying; and the -roads were all strewed with them; but they were mostly concentrated -upon the great towns, and civil and military stations, where -subscriptions were open for their support by both the European -and native communities. The funds arising from these subscriptions -lasted till the rain had fairly set in, when all able-bodied -persons could easily find employment in tillage among the agricultural -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_465" id="Page_465">[Pg 465]</a></span> -communities of the villages around. After the rains have -fairly set in, the <i>sick</i> and <i>helpless</i> only should be kept concentrated -upon large towns and stations, where little or no employment is -to be found; for the oldest and youngest of those who are able to -work can then easily find employment in weeding the cotton, rice, -sugar-cane, and other fields under autumn crops, and in preparing -the land for the reception of the wheat, grain, and other spring -seeds; and get advances from the farmers, agricultural capitalists, -and other members of the village communities, who are all glad to -share their superfluities with the distressed, and to pay liberally -for the little service they are able to give in return.</p> - -<p class="i1">"At large places, where the greater numbers are concentrated, -the scene becomes exceedingly distressing, for in spite of the best -dispositions and greatest efforts on the part of government and its -officers, and the European and native communities, thousands -commonly die of starvation. At Saugor, mothers, as they lay in -the streets unable to walk, were seen holding up their infants, and -imploring the passing stranger to take them in slavery, that they -might at least live—hundreds were seen creeping into gardens, -courtyards, and old ruins, concealing themselves under shrubs, -grass, mats, or straw, where they might die quietly, without having -their bodies torn by birds and beasts before the breath had left -them! Respectable families, who left home in search of the -favoured land of Malwa, while yet a little property remained, -finding all exhausted, took opium rather than beg, and husband, -wife, and children died in each other's arms! Still more of such -families lingered on in hope until all had been expended; then -shut their doors, took poison, and died all together, rather than expose -their misery, and submit to the degradation of begging. All -these things I have myself known and seen; and in the midst of -these and a hundred other harrowing scenes which present themselves -on such occasions, the European cannot fail to remark the -patient resignation with which the poor people submit to their fate; -and the absence of almost all those revolting acts which have -characterized the famines of which he has read in other countries—such -as the living feeding on the dead, and mothers devouring their -own children. No such things are witnessed in Indian famines; -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_466" id="Page_466">[Pg 466]</a></span> -here all who suffer attribute the disaster to its real cause, the want -of rain in due season; and indulge in no feelings of hatred against -their rulers, superiors, or more fortunate equals in society, who -happen to live beyond the influence of such calamities. They -gratefully receive the superfluities which the more favoured are -always found ready to share with the afflicted in India; and -though their sufferings often subdue the strongest of all pride—the -pride of caste, they rarely ever drive people to acts of violence. -The stream of emigration, guided as it always is by that of the -agricultural produce flowing in from the more favoured countries, -must necessarily concentrate upon the communities along the line -it takes a greater number of people than they have the means of -relieving, however benevolent their dispositions; and I must say, -that I have never either seen or read of a nobler spirit than seems -to animate all classes of these communities in India on such distressing -occasions."</p></div> - -<p class="i1">The same writer has some judicious general remarks -upon the causes of famine in India, which are worthy -of quotation. We have only to add, that whatever -may be found in the climate and character of the -country that expose the people to the frequency of -want, the conquerors have done their best to aggravate -natural evils:—</p> - -<div class="bq"> - -<p class="i1">"In India, unfavourable seasons produce much more disastrous -consequences than in Europe. In England, not more than one-fourth -of the population derive their incomes from the cultivation -of the land around them. Three-fourths of the people have incomes, -independent of the annual returns from those lands; and with -these incomes they can purchase agricultural produce from other -lands when the crops upon them fail. The farmers, who form so -large a portion of the fourth class, have stock equal in value to -<i>four times the amount of the annual rent of their lands</i>. They have -also a great variety of crops; and it is very rare that more than -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_467" id="Page_467">[Pg 467]</a></span> -one or two of them fail, or are considerably affected, the same -season. If they fail in one district or province, the deficiency is -very easily supplied to people who have equivalents to give for -the produce of another. The sea, navigable rivers, fine roads, all -are open and ready at all times for the transport of the super-abundance -of one quarter to supply the deficiencies of another. -In India the reverse of all this is unhappily everywhere to be -found; more than three-fourths of the whole population are engaged -in the cultivation of the land, and depend upon its annual -returns for subsistence. The farmers and cultivators have none -of them stock equal in value to more than <i>half the amount of the -annual rents of their lands</i>. They have a great variety of crops; -but all are exposed to the same accidents, and commonly fail at -the same time. The autumn crops are sown in June and July, -and ripen in October and November; and if seasonable showers -do not fall in July, August, and September, all fail. The spring -crops are sown in October and November, and ripen in March; -and if seasonable showers do not happen to fall during December -or January, all, save what are artificially irrigated, fail. If they -fail in one district or province, the people have few equivalents to -offer for a supply of land produce from any other. Their roads -are scarcely anywhere passable for wheeled carriages at <i>any season</i>, -and nowhere <i>at all seasons</i>—they have nowhere a navigable -canal, and only in one line a navigable river. Their land produce -is conveyed upon the backs of bullocks, that move at the rate of -six or eight miles a day, and add one hundred per cent. to the -cost for every hundred miles they carry it in the best seasons, and -more than two hundred in the worst. What in Europe is felt -merely as a <i>dearth</i>, becomes in India, under all these disadvantages, -a <i>scarcity</i>; and what is there a <i>scarcity</i> becomes here a -famine."</p></div> - -<p class="i1">Another illustration of the truth that poverty is the -source of crime and depravity is found in India. Statistics -and the evidence of recent travellers show that -the amount of vice in the different provinces is just in -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_468" id="Page_468">[Pg 468]</a></span> -proportion to the length of time they have been under -British rule. No stronger proof of the iniquity of the -government—of its poisonous tendencies as well as -positive injustice—could be adduced.</p> - -<p class="i1">The cultivation and exportation of the pernicious -drug, opium, which destroys hundreds of thousands of -lives annually, have latterly been prominent objects of -the East Indian government. The best tracts of land -in India were chosen for the cultivation of the poppy. -The people were told that they must either raise this -plant, make opium, or give up their land. Furthermore, -those who produced the drug were compelled to -sell it to the Company. In the Bengal Presidency, the -monopoly of the government is complete. It has its -establishment for the manufacture of the drug. There -are two great agencies at Ghazeepore and Patna, for -the Benares and Bahar provinces. Each opium agent -has several deputies in different districts, and a native -establishment. They enter into contracts with the cultivator -for the supply of opium at a rate fixed to suit -the demand. The land-revenue authorities do not interfere, -except to prevent cultivation without permission. -The land cultivated is measured, and all the -produce must be sold to the government. At the head -agency the opium is packed in chests and sealed with -the Company's seal.<a name="FNanchor_112_112" id="FNanchor_112_112"></a> -<a href="#Footnote_112_112" class="fnanchor">[112]</a></p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_469" id="Page_469">[Pg 469]</a></span></p> - -<p class="i1">The imperial government of China, seeing that the -traffic in opium was sowing misery and death among its -subjects, prohibited the introduction of the drug within -the empire in 1839. But the British had a vast amount -of capital at stake, and the profits of the trade were too -great to be relinquished for any considerations of humanity. -War was declared; thousands of Chinese were -slaughtered, and the imperial government forced to -permit the destructive traffic on a more extensive scale -than ever, and to pay $2,000,000 besides for daring to -protest against it!</p> - -<p class="i1">The annual revenue now realized from the opium -traffic amounts to £3,500,000. It is estimated that -about 400,000 Chinese perish every year in consequence -of using the destructive drug, while the amount -of individual and social misery proceeding from the -same cause is appalling to every humane heart. Among -the people of India who have been forced into the cultivation -and manufacture of opium, the use of it has -greatly increased under the fostering care of the government. -The Company seems to be aware that a people -enervated by excessive indulgence will make little effort -to throw off the chains of slavery. Keep the Hindoo -drunk with opium and he will not rebel.</p> - -<p class="i1">The effects of this drug upon the consumer are thus -described by a distinguished Chinese scholar:—"It -exhausts the animal spirits, impedes the regular performance -of business, wastes the flesh and blood, -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_470" id="Page_470">[Pg 470]</a></span> -dissipates every kind of property, renders the person -ill-favoured, promotes obscenity, discloses secrets, violates -the laws, attacks the vitals, and destroys life." -This statement is confirmed by other natives, and also -by foreign residents; and it is asserted that, as a -general rule, a person does not live more than ten years -after becoming addicted to the use of this drug.</p> - -<p class="i1">The recent Burmese war had for one of its objects -the opening of a road to the interior of China, for the -purpose of extending the opium trade. And for such -an object thousands of brave Burmese were slaughtered, -fertile and beautiful regions desolated, and others subjected -to the peculiar slave-system of the East India -Company. The extension of British dominion and the -accumulation of wealth in British hands, instead of the -spread of Christianity and the development of civilization, -mark all the measures of the Company.</p> - -<p class="i1">William Howitt, one of the ablest as well as the most -democratic writers of England, thus confirms the statements -made above:—</p> - -<div class="bq"> - -<p class="i1">"The East India Company exists by monopolies of the land, of -opium, and of salt. By their narrow, greedy, and purblind management -of these resources, they have contrived to reduce that -once affluent country to the uttermost depths of poverty and -pauperism. The people starve and perish in famine every now -and then by half a million at a time. One-third of that superb -peninsula is reduced to waste and jungle. While other colonies -pay from twenty to thirty shillings per head of revenue, India -yields only four shillings per head. The income of the government -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_471" id="Page_471">[Pg 471]</a></span> -at the last renewal of the charter was <i>twenty millions</i>; it is -now reduced to about <i>seventeen millions</i>; and even to raise this, -they have been obliged to double the tax on salt. The debt was -<i>forty millions</i>; it is now said to be augmented by constant war, -and the payment of the dividends, which, whatever the real proceeds, -are always kept up to the usual height, to <i>seventy millions</i>. -This is a state of things which cannot last. It is a grand march -toward financial inanition. It threatens, if not arrested by the -voice of the British people, the certain and no very distant loss -of India.</p> - -<p class="i1">"We have some glimpses of the treatment of the people in the -collection of the land-tax, as it is called, but really the rent. The -government claims not the mere right of governing, but, as conquerors, -the fee-simple of the land. Over the greater part of -India there are no real freeholders. The land is the Company's, -and they collect, not a tax, but a rent. They have their collectors -all over India, who go and say as the crops stand, 'We shall take -so much of this.' It is seldom less than one-half—it is more commonly -sixty, seventy, and eighty per cent! This is killing the -goose to come at the golden egg. It drives the people to despair; -they run away and leave the land to become jungle; they perish -by famine in thousands and tens of thousands.</p> - -<p class="i1">"This is why no capitalists dare to settle and grow for us -cotton, or manufacture for us sugar. There is no security—no -fixity of taxation. It is one wholesale system of arbitrary plunder, -such as none but a conquered country in the first violence of -victorious license ever was subjected to. But this system has -here continued more than a generation; the country is reduced -by it to a fatal condition—the only wonder is that we yet retain -it at all.</p> - -<p class="i1">"The same system is pursued in the opium monopoly. The finest -lands are taken for the cultivation of the poppy; the government -give the natives what they please for the opium, often about as -many shillings as they get paid for it guineas per pound, and -ship it off to curse China with it. 'In India,' says a writer in -the Chinese Repository, 'the extent of territory occupied with the -poppy, and the amount of population engaged in its cultivation -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_472" id="Page_472">[Pg 472]</a></span> -and the preparation of opium, are far greater than in any other -part of the world.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"Turkey is said to produce only 2000 chests of opium annually; -India produces 40,000 of 134 lbs. each, and yielding a revenue of -about £4,000,000 sterling.</p> - -<p class="i1">"But perhaps worse than all is the salt monopoly. It is well -known that the people of India are a vegetable diet people. Boiled -rice is their chief food, and salt is an absolute necessary of life. -With a vegetable diet in that hot climate, without plenty of salt, -putrid diseases and rapid mortality are inevitable. Nature, or -Providence, has therefore given salt in abundance. The sea -throws it up already crystallized in many places; in others it is -prepared by evaporation; but the Company steps in and imposes -<i>two hundred per cent.</i> on this indispensable article, and guards it -by such penalties that the native dare not stoop to gather it when -it lies at his feet. The consequence is that mortality prevails, to -a terrific extent often, among the population. Officers of government -are employed to destroy the salt naturally formed; and -government determines how much salt shall be annually consumed.</p> - -<p class="i1">"Now, let the people of England mark one thing. <i>The cholera -originates in the East.</i> It has visited us once, and is on its march -once more toward us. We have heard through the newspapers -of its arrival in Syria, in Turkey, in Russia, at Vienna. In a few -months it will probably be again among us.</p> - -<p class="i1">"<i>Has any one yet imagined that this scourge may possibly be the -instrument of Divine retribution for our crimes and cruelties?</i> Has -any one imagined that we have any thing to do with the creation -of this terrible pestilence? Yet there is little, there is scarcely -the least doubt, that this awful instrument of death is occasioned -by this very monopoly of salt—that it is the direct work of the -four-and-twenty men in Leadenhall-street. The cholera is found -to arise in the very centre of India. It commences in the midst -of this swarming population, which subsists on vegetables, and -which is deprived by the British government of the necessary -salt! In that hot climate it acquires a deadly strength—thousands -perish by it as by the stroke of lightning, and it hence -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_473" id="Page_473">[Pg 473]</a></span> -radiates over the globe, travelling at the speed of a horse in full -gallop. Thus it is that God visits our deeds upon our heads.</p> - -<p class="i1">"Such is a brief glance at the mal-administration, the abuse, and -the murderous treatment of India, permitted by great and Christian -England to a knot of mere money-making traders. We commit -the lives and happiness of one hundred and fifty millions of souls—the -well-being, and probably the chance of retention, of one of the -finest countries in the world, and the comfort and prosperity of -every human creature in Great Britain, to the hands of those who -are only, from day to day, grasping at the vitals of this glorious -Eastern region to increase their dividends. This is bad enough, -but this is not all. As if we had given them a charter in the most -effectual manner to damage our dominions and blast all our prospects -of trade, we have allowed these four-and-twenty men of -Leadenhall-street not only to cripple India, but to exasperate -and, as far as possible, close China against us. Two millions of -people in India and three millions of people in China—all waiting -for our manufactures, all capable of sending us the comforts -and necessaries that we need—it would seem that to us, a nation -especially devoted to trade, as if Providence had opened all the gorgeous -and populous East to employ and to enrich us. One would -have thought that every care and anxiety would have been aroused -to put ourselves on the best footing with this swarming region. -It has been the last thing thought of.</p> - -<p class="i1">"The men of Leadenhall-street have been permitted, after having -paralyzed India, to send to China not the articles that the Chinese -wanted, but the very thing of all others that its authorities abhorred—that -is, opium.</p> - -<p class="i1">"It is well known with what assiduity these traders for years -thrust this deadly drug into the ports of China; or it may be -known from 'Medhurst's China,' from 'Thelwall's Iniquities -of the Opium Trade,' from 'Montgomery Martin's Opium in -China,' and various other works. It is well known what horrors, -crimes, ruin of families, and destruction of individuals the rage -of opium-smoking introduced among the millions of the Celestial -Empire. Every horror, every species of reckless desperation, -social depravity, and sensual crime, spread from the practice and -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_474" id="Page_474">[Pg 474]</a></span> -overran China as a plague. The rulers attempted to stop the evil -by every means in their power. They enacted the severest -punishments for the sale of it. These did not avail. They augmented -the punishment to death. Without a stop to it the whole -framework of society threatened to go to pieces. 'Opium,' says -the Imperial edict itself, 'coming from the distant regions of barbarians, -has pervaded the country with its baneful influence.' The -opium-smoker would steal, sell his property, his children, the -mother of his children, and finally commit murder for it. The -most ghastly spectacles were everywhere seen; instead of healthy -and happy men, the most repulsive scenes. 'I visited one of the -opium-houses,' said an individual quoted by Sir Robert Inglis, in -the House of Commons, in 1843, 'and shall I tell you what I saw -in this antechamber of hell? I thought it impossible to find anything -worse than the results of drinking ardent spirits; but I have -succeeded in finding something far worse. I saw Malays, Chinese, -men and women, old and young, in one mass, in one common -herd, wallowing in their filth, beastly, sensual, devilish, and this -under the eyes of a Christian government.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"They were these abominations and horrors that the Emperor -of China determined to arrest. They were these which our East -India Company determined to perpetuate for this base gain. -When the emperor was asked to license the sale of opium, as he -could not effect its exclusion, and thus make a profit of it, what was -his reply? '<i>It is true I cannot prevent the introduction of the flowing -poison. Gain-seeking and corrupt men will, for profit and sensuality, -defeat my wishes, but nothing will induce me to derive a -benefit from the vice and misery of my people.</i>'</p> - -<p class="i1">"These were the sentiments of the Chinese monarch; what was -the conduct of the so-called Christian Englishmen? They determined -to go on poisoning and demoralizing China, till they provoked -the government to war, and then massacred the people to -compel the continuance of the sale of opium."</p></div> - -<p class="i1">Howitt evidently has as ardent a sympathy for those -who have suffered from the tyranny of British rule as -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_475" id="Page_475">[Pg 475]</a></span> -Edmund Burke himself. The wholesale degradation of -the Hindoos, which has resulted from the measures -of the East India Company, calls loudly indeed for the -denunciations of indignant humanity. The crime must -have its punishment. The ill-gotten gains of the Company -should be seized to carry out an ameliorating -policy, and all concerned in enforcing the system of -oppression should be taught that justice is not to be -wounded with impunity.</p> - -<p class="i1">The burdens imposed upon the Hindoos are precisely -of the character and extent of those that have reduced -Ireland to poverty and her people to slavery. Besides -the enormous rents, which are sufficient of themselves -to dishearten the tillers of the soil, the British authorities -seem to have exhausted invention in devising taxes. -So dear a price to live was never paid by any people -except the Irish. What remains to the cultivator when -the rent of the land and almost forty different taxes -are paid?</p> - -<p class="i1">Those Hindoos who wish to employ capital or labour -in any other way than in cultivation of land are deterred -by the formidable array of taxation. The chief taxes -are styled the Veesabuddy, or tax on merchants, -traders, and shopkeepers; the Mohturfa, or tax on -weavers, carpenters, stonecutters, and other mechanical -trades; and the Bazeebab, consisting of smaller taxes -annually rented out to the highest bidder. The proprietor -of the Bazeebab is thus constituted a petty chieftain, -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_476" id="Page_476">[Pg 476]</a></span> -with power to exact fees at marriages and religious -ceremonies; to inquire into and fine the misconduct of -females in families, and other misdemeanours—in fact, -petty tyrants, who can at all times allege engagements -to the government to justify extortion.<a name="FNanchor_113_113" id="FNanchor_113_113"></a> -<a href="#Footnote_113_113" class="fnanchor">[113]</a> These proprietors -are the worst kind of slaveholders.</p> - -<p class="i1">The mode of settling the Mohturfa on looms is remarkable -for the precision of its exaction. Every -circumstance of the weaver's family is considered; the -number of days which he devotes to his loom, the number -of his children, the assistance which he receives -from them, and the number and quality of the pieces -which he can produce in a year; so that, let him exert -himself as he will, his industry will always be taxed to -the highest degree.<a name="FNanchor_114_114" id="FNanchor_114_114"></a> -<a href="#Footnote_114_114" class="fnanchor">[114]</a> This method is so detailed that -the servants of the government cannot enter into it, and -the assessment of the tax is therefore left to the heads -of the villages. It is impossible for a weaver to know -what he is to pay to the government for being allowed -to carry on his business till the yearly demand is made. -If he has worked hard, and turned out one or two pieces -of cloth more than he did the year before, his tax is increased. -The more industrious he is the more he is -forced to pay.</p> - -<p class="i1">The tax-gatherers are thorough inquisitors. According -to Rikards, upward of seventy different kinds of -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_477" id="Page_477">[Pg 477]</a></span> -buildings—the houses, shops, or warehouses of different -castes and professions—were ordered to be entered into -the survey accounts; besides the following implements -of professions, which were usually assessed to the public -revenue, viz.: "Oil-mills, iron manufactory, toddy-drawer's -stills, potter's kiln, washerman's stone, goldsmith's -tools, sawyer's saw, toddy-drawer's knives, -fishing-nets, barber's hones, blacksmith's anvils, pack-bullocks, -cocoa-nut safe, small fishing-boats, cotton-beater's -bow, carpenter's tools, large fishing-boats, -looms, salt-storehouses. If a landlord objects to the -assessment on trees, as old and past bearing, they are, -one and all, ordered to be cut down—a measure as ridiculous -as unjust—as it not only inflicts injury upon -the landlord, but takes away the chance of future profit -for the government. Mr. Rikards bears witness, as a -collector of Malabar, that lands and produce were -sometimes inserted in the survey account which absolutely -did not exist, while other lands were assessed to -the revenue at more than their actual produce. From -all this, it is obvious that the Hindoo labourer or artisan -is the slave of the tax-collector, who, moreover, has -no interest in the life of his victim.</p> - -<p class="i1">Labour being almost "dirt cheap" in India, whenever -speculating companies of Englishmen wish to carry out -any particular scheme for which labourers are required, -they hire a number of Hindoo Coolies, induce them to -visit any port of the country, and treat them abominably, -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_478" id="Page_478">[Pg 478]</a></span> -knowing that the poor wretches have no protection. -The operations of the Assam Tea Company -illustrate this practice:—</p> - -<div class="bq"> - -<p class="i1">"An inconsiderate expenditure of capital placed the Assam Tea -Company in great jeopardy, and at one time it was feared the -scheme would be abandoned. The number of managers and assistants -appointed by the Assam Company to carry on their affairs -and superintend their tea gardens, on large salaries, was quite -unnecessary; one or two experienced European superintendents -to direct the native establishment would have answered every purpose. -A vast number of Coolies (or labourers) were induced to -proceed to Upper Assam to cultivate the gardens; but bad arrangements -having been made to supply them with proper, wholesome -food, many were seized with sickness. On their arrival at -the tea-plantations, in the midst of high and dense tree jungle, -numbers absconded, and others met an untimely end. The rice -served out to the Coolies from the Assam Tea Company's store-rooms, -was so bad as not to be fit to be given to elephants, much -less to human beings. The loss of these labourers, who had been -conveyed to Upper Assam at a great expense, deprived the company -of the means of cultivating so great an extent of country as -would otherwise have been insured; for the scanty population of -Upper Assam offered no means of replacing the deficiency of -hands. Nor was the improvidence of the company in respect to -labourers the only instance of their mismanagement. Although -the company must have known that they had no real use or necessity -for a steamer, a huge vessel was nevertheless purchased, and -frequently sent up and down the Burrampooter river from Calcutta; -carrying little else than a few thousand rupees for the -payment of their establishment in Upper Assam, which might -have been transmitted through native bankers, and have saved -the company a most lavish and unprofitable expenditure of -capital."<a name="FNanchor_115_115" id="FNanchor_115_115"></a> -<a href="#Footnote_115_115" class="fnanchor">[115]</a></p></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_479" id="Page_479">[Pg 479]</a></span></p> - -<p class="i1">Ay, and the expense is all that is thought worthy of -consideration. The miserable victims to the measures -of the company might perish like brutes without being -even pitied.</p> - -<p class="i1">On the verge of starvation, as so many of the Hindoo -labourers generally are, it does not excite surprise that -they are very ready to listen to the offers of those who -are engaged in the "Cooley slave-trade." In addition -to the astounding facts given by us in the previous chapter, -in regard to this traffic in men, we quote the following -from the London Spectator of October, 1838:—</p> - -<div class="bq"> - -<p class="i1">"Under Lord Glenelg's patronage, the Eastern slave-trade prospers -exceedingly. The traffic in Hill Coolies promises to become -one of the most extensive under the British flag. A cargo arrived -in Berbice about the beginning of May, in prime condition: and -the Berbice Advertiser, one of the most respectable of the West -India journals, states, that out of 289, conveyed in the Whitby, -only eight died on the passage, and very few were ill. Only one -circumstance was wanting to make them the happiest of human(?) -beings—only eight women were sent as companions for the 280 -men; and the deficiency of females was the more to be regretted -because it was 'probable they would be shunned by the negroes -from jealousy and speaking a different language.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"The same newspaper contains a very curious document respecting -the Hill Cooley traffic. It is a circular letter, dated the -8th January, 1838, from Henley, Dowson, and Bethel, of Calcutta, -the agents most extensively engaged in the shipment of labourers -from India to the Mauritius and British Guiana. These gentlemen -thus state their claims to preference over other houses in the -same business:—</p> - -<p class="i1">"'We have within the last two years procured and shipped -upward of 5000 free agricultural labourers for our friends at Mauritius; -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_480" id="Page_480">[Pg 480]</a></span> -and, from the circumstance of nearly 500 of the number -being employed on estates in which we possess a direct interest, -we can assure you that a happier and more contented labouring -population is seldom to be met with in any part of the world, -than the Dhargas or mountain tribes sent from this vast country.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"Five thousand within two years to the Mauritius alone! This -is pretty well, considering that the trade is in its infancy. As to -the statement of the happiness and contentment of the labourers, -rather more impartial evidence than the good word of the exporters -of the commodity advertised would be desirable. If -Englishmen could fancy themselves Hill Coolies for an instant—landed -in Berbice, in the proportion of 280 men to 8 of the gentler -sex, 'speaking a different language,' and shunned by the very -negroes—we are inclined to think they would not, even in that -imaginary and momentary view, conceit themselves to be among -the happiest of mankind.</p> - -<p class="i1">"We proceed with the Calcutta circular:—</p> - -<p class="i1">"'The labourers hitherto procured by us have cost their employers, -<i>landed at the Mauritius</i>, about one hundred rupees (or -10<i>l.</i> sterling) per man; which sum comprises six months' advance -of wages, provisions and water for the voyage, clothing, commission, -passage, insurance, and all incidental charges.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"'The expense attending the shipment of Indian labourers to -the West India Colonies would be necessarily augmented—firstly, -by the higher rate of passage-money, and the increased quantity -of provisions and water; and, secondly, from the necessity of -making arrangements, indispensable to the health and comfort -of native passengers, on a voyage of so long a duration, in the -course of which they would be exposed to great vicissitude of -climate.</p> - -<p class="i1">"'On making ample allowance for these charges, we do not -apprehend that a labourer, sent direct from this country to Demerara, -and engaged to work on your estates for a period of five -consecutive years, would cost, landed there, above two hundred -and ten rupees, or 21<i>l.</i> sterling.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"This sum of 210 rupees includes <i>six months' wages</i>—at what -rate does the reader suppose? Why, five rupees, or ten shillings -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_481" id="Page_481">[Pg 481]</a></span> -sterling a month—half-a-crown a week—in Demerara! The passage -is 10<i>l.</i>, and the insurance 12<i>s.</i>; for they are insured at so -much a head, like pigs or sheep.</p> - -<p class="i1">"It is manifest that after their arrival in Demerara, the Indians -will not, unless on compulsion, work for five years at the rate of -10<i>s.</i> a month, while the negroes receive much higher wages. -They are therefore placed under strict control, and are just as -much slaves as the Redemptioners, whom the virtuous Quakers -inveigled into Pennsylvania a century or more ago. The Indians -bind themselves to work in town or country, wherever their consignee -or master may choose to employ them. One of the articles -of their agreement is this:—</p> - -<p class="i1">"'In order that the undersigned natives of India may be fully -aware of the engagement they undertake, it is hereby notified, -that they will be required to do <i>all such work as the object for -which they are engaged necessitates</i>; and that, as labourers attached -to an estate, they will be required to clear forest and extract timber, -carry manure, dig and prepare land for planting, also to take -charge of horses, mules, and cattle of every description; <i>in short, -to do all such work as an estate for the cultivation of sugar-cane and -the manufacture of sugar demands</i>, or any branch of agriculture to -which they may be destined.'</p> - -<p class="i1">"In case of disobedience or misconduct—that is, at the caprice -of the master—they may be 'degraded,' and sent back at their -own charge to Calcutta. They are to receive no wages during -illness; and a rupee a month is to be deducted from their wages—thereby -reducing them to 2<i>s.</i> a week—as an indemnity-fund for -the cost of sending them back. What security there is for the -kind treatment of the labourers does not appear: there is nothing -in the contract but a promise to act equitably.</p> - -<p class="i1">"Now, in what respect do these men differ in condition from -negro slaves, except very much for the worse? They must be -more helpless than the negroes—if for no other reason, because -of their ignorance of the language their masters use. They will -not, for a long period certainly, be formidable from their numbers. -How easily may even the miserable terms of the contract with -their employers be evaded! Suppose the Indian works steadily -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_482" id="Page_482">[Pg 482]</a></span> -for four years, it may suit his master to describe him as refractory -and idle during the fifth, and then he will be sent back at -his own cost; and the whole of his earnings may be expended in -paying for his passage to Calcutta, where, after all, he is a long -way from home.</p> - -<p class="i1">"It is impossible to contemplate without pain the inevitable -lot of these helpless beings; but the conduct of the government, -which could sanction the infamous commerce of which the Hill -Cooley will be the victims, while professing all the while such a -holy horror of dealing in negroes, should rouse general indignation.</p> - -<p class="i1">Is it only a certain shade of black, and a peculiar physical -conformation, which excites the compassion of the Anti-Slavery -people? If it is cruelty, oppression, and fraud which they abhor -and desire to prevent, then let them renew their agitation in -behalf of the kidnapped natives of India, now suffering, probably -more acutely, all that made the lot of the negro a theme for eloquence -and a field for Christian philanthropy."</p></div> - -<p class="i1">This is written in the right spirit. The trade described -has increased to an extent which calls for the -interference of some humane power. Should the British -government continue to sanction the traffic, it must stand -responsible for a national crime.</p> - -<p class="i1">Oppressive and violent as the British dominion in -India undoubtedly is, the means devised to extend it -are even more worthy of strong condemnation. The -government fixes its eyes upon a certain province, where -the people are enjoying peace and plenty, and determines -to get possession of it. The Romans themselves -were not more fertile in pretences for forcible seizure -of territory than these British plunderers. They quickly -hunt up a pretender to the throne, support his claims -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_483" id="Page_483">[Pg 483]</a></span> -with a powerful army, make him their complete tool, -dethrone the lawful sovereign, and extend their authority -over the country. The course pursued toward -Afghanistan in 1838 illustrates this outrageous violation -of national rights.</p> - -<p class="i1">The following account of the origin and progress of -the Afghanistan war is given by an English writer in the -Penny Magazine:—</p> - -<div class="bq"> - -<p class="i1">"In 1747, Ahmeed Shah, an officer of an Afghan troop in the -service of Persia, refounded the Afghan monarchy, which was -maintained until the death of his successor in 1793. Ahmeed -was of the Douranee tribe, and the limits over which his sway -extended is spoken of as the Douranee empire. Four of the sons -of Ahmeed's successor disputed, and in turn possessed, the throne; -and during this civil war several of the principal chiefs threw off -their allegiance, and the Douranee empire ceased to exist, but -was split up into the chiefships of Candahar, Herat, Caboul, and -Peshawur. Herat afterward became a dependency of Persia, and -Shah Shooja ool Moolook, the chief of Peshawur, lost his power -after having enjoyed it for about six years. Dost Mohammed -Kahn, the chief of Caboul, according to the testimony of the late -Sir Alexander Burnes, writing in 1832, governed his territory -with great judgment, improved its internal administration and -resources, and became the most powerful chief in Afghanistan. -Shah Shooja was for many years a fugitive and a pensioner of -the British government. He made one unsuccessful attempt to -regain his territory, but Peshawur eventually became a tributary -to the ruler of the Punjab. Such was the state of Afghanistan -in 1836.</p> - -<p class="i1">"In the above year the Anglo-Indian government complained -that Dost Mohammed Khan, chief of Caboul, had engaged in -schemes of aggrandizement which threatened the stability of the -British frontier in India; and Sir Alexander Burnes, who was -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_484" id="Page_484">[Pg 484]</a></span> -sent with authority to represent to him the light in which his -proceedings were viewed, was compelled to leave Caboul without -having effected any change in his conduct. The siege of Herat, -and the support which both Dost Mohammed and his brother, the -chief of Candahar, gave to the designs of Persia in Afghanistan, -the latter chief especially openly assisting the operations against -Herat, created fresh alarm in the Anglo-Indian government as to -the security of our frontier. Several minor chiefs also avowed -their attachment to the Persians. As our policy, instead of hostility, -required an ally capable of resisting aggression on the -western frontier of India, the Governor-general, from whose official -papers we take these statements, 'was satisfied,' after serious -and mature deliberation, 'that a pressing necessity, as well as -every consideration of policy and justice, warranted us in espousing -the cause of Shah Shooja ool Moolk;' and it was determined -to place him on the throne. According to the Governor-general, -speaking from the best authority, the testimony as to Shah Shooja's -popularity was unanimous. In June, 1838, the late Sir William -Macnaghten formed a tripartite treaty with the ruler of the Punjab -and Shah Shooja; the object of which was to restore the latter -to the throne of his ancestors. This policy it was conceived would -conduce to the general freedom and security of commerce, the -restoration of tranquillity upon the most important frontier of -India, and the erection of a lasting barrier against hostile intrigue -and encroachment; and, while British influence would -thus gain its proper footing among the nations of Central Asia, -the prosperity of the Afghan people would be promoted.</p> - -<p class="i1">"Troops were despatched from the Presidencies of Bengal and -Bombay to co-operate with the contingents raised by the Shah -and our other ally, the united force being intended to act together -under the name of the 'Army of the Indus.' After a march of -extraordinary length, through countries which had never before -been traversed by British troops, and defiles which are the most -difficult passes in the world, where no wheeled carriage had ever -been, and where it was necessary for the engineers in many places -to construct roads before the baggage could proceed, the combined -forces from Bengal and Bombay reached Candahar in May, -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_485" id="Page_485">[Pg 485]</a></span> -1839. According to the official accounts, the population were -enthusiastic in welcoming the return of Shah Shooja. The next -step was to advance toward Ghiznee and Caboul. On the 23d -July, the strong and important fortress and citadel of Ghiznee, -regarded throughout Asia as impregnable, was taken in two -hours by blowing up the Caboul gate. The army had only been -forty-eight hours before the place. An 'explosion party' carried -three hundred pounds of gunpowder in twelve sand-bags, with a -hose seventy-two feet long, the train was laid and fired, the party -having just time to reach a tolerable shelter from the effects of -the concussion, though one of the officers was injured by its force. -On the 7th of August the army entered Caboul. Dost Mohammed -had recalled his son Mohammed Akhbar from Jellalabad with -the troops guarding the Khyber Pass, and their united forces -amounted to thirteen thousand men; but these troops refused to -advance, and Dost Mohammed was obliged to take precipitate -fight, accompanied only by a small number of horsemen. Shah -Shooja made a triumphant entry into Caboul, and the troops of -Dost Mohammed tendered their allegiance to him. The official -accounts state that in his progress toward Caboul he was joined -by every person of rank and influence in the country. As the -tribes in the Bolan Pass committed many outrages and murders -on the followers of the army of the Indus, at the instigation of -their chief, the Khan of Khelat, his principal town (Khelat) was -taken on the 13th of November, 1839. The political objects of the -expedition had now apparently been obtained. The hostile chiefs -of Caboul and Candahar were replaced by a friendly monarch. -On the side of Scinde and Herat, British alliance and protection -were courted. All this had been accomplished in a few months, -but at an expense said to exceed three millions sterling."</p></div> - -<p class="i1">The <i>expense</i> of national outrage is only of importance -to the sordid and unprincipled men who conceived and -superintended the Afghanistan expedition. In the first -part of the above extract, the writer places the British -government in the position of one who strikes in self-defence. -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_486" id="Page_486">[Pg 486]</a></span> -It was informed that Dost Mohammed entertained -schemes of invasion dangerous to the British -supremacy—informed by the exiled enemy of the chief -of Caboul. The information was seasonable and exceedingly -useful. Straightway a treaty was formed, by -which the British agreed to place their tool for the -enslavement of the Afghans upon the throne from -which he had been driven. Further on, it is said, that -when Shah Sooja appeared in Afghanistan he was -joined by every person of rank and influence in the -country. Just so; and the followers and supporters -of Dost Mohammed nearly all submitted to the superior -army of the British general. But two years afterward, -the strength of the patriotic party was seen, when -Caboul rose against Shah Sooja, drove him again from -the throne, and defeated and massacred a considerable -British garrison. Shah Sooja was murdered soon afterward. -But the British continued the war against the -Afghans, with the object of reducing them to the same -slavery under which the remainder of Hindostan was -groaning. The violation of national rights, the massacre -of thousands, and the enslavement of millions -were the glorious aims of British policy in the Afghan -expedition. The policy then carried out has been more -fully illustrated since that period. Whenever a territory -was thought desirable by the government, neither -national rights, the principles of justice and humanity, -nor even the common right of property in individuals -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_487" id="Page_487">[Pg 487]</a></span> -has been respected. Wealth has been an object for -the attainment of which plunder and massacre were not -considered unworthy means.</p> - -<p class="i1">Said Mr. John Bright, the radical reformer of Manchester, -in a speech delivered in the House of Commons:—"It -cannot be too universally known that the -cultivators of the soil (in India) are in a very unsatisfactory -condition; that they are, in truth, in a condition -of almost extreme and universal poverty. All -testimony concurred upon that point. He would call -the attention of the House to the statement of a celebrated -native of India, the Rajah Rammohun Roy, who, -about twenty years ago, published a pamphlet in London, -in which he pointed out the ruinous effects of the -Zemindaree system, and the oppressions experienced by -the ryots in the Presidencies of Bombay and Madras. -After describing the state of affairs generally, he added, -'Such was the melancholy condition of the agricultural -labourers, that it always gave him the greatest pain to -allude to it.' Three years afterward, Mr. Shore, who -was a judge in India, published a work which was considered -as a standard work till now, and he stated 'that -the British government was not regarded in a favourable -light by the native population of India—that a -system of taxation and extortion was carried on unparalleled -in the annals of any country.'"</p> - -<p class="i1">From all quarters we receive unimpeachable evidence -that the locust system has performed its devouring work -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_488" id="Page_488">[Pg 488]</a></span> -on the broadest scale in India; and that the Hindoos -are the victims of conquerors, slower, indeed, in their -movements, than Tamerlane or Genghis Khan, but more -destructive and more criminal than either of those great -barbarian invaders.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_489" id="Page_489">[Pg 489]</a></span></p> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XII" id="CHAPTER_XII"></a>CHAPTER XII.</h2> -</div> - -<p class="ac">THE CRIME AND THE DUTY OF THE ENGLISH GOVERNMENT.</p> - - -<p class="i1"><span class="sc">It</span> remains to sum up the charges against the English -oligarchy, and to point out the path which justice, humanity, -and the age require the government to pursue. -In so doing, we shall go no farther than the facts previously -adduced will afford us sure ground, nor speak -more harshly than our duty to our oppressed fellow-men -will demand. We pity the criminal even while we pass -sentence upon her.</p> - -<p class="i1">A government originating in, and suited for, a barbarous -age must necessarily be unfit for one enjoying the -meridian of civilization. The arrangement of lord and -serf was appropriate to the period when war was regarded -as the chief employment of mankind, and when more -respect was paid to the kind of blood flowing in a man's -veins than to his greatness or generosity of soul. But, -in the nineteenth century, war is regarded as an evil to -be avoided as long as possible. Peace is the rule, and -conflict the exception. Christianity has taught us, also, -that the good and the great in heart and mind—wherever -born, wherever bred—are the true nobility of our -race. It is the sin of the English government that it -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_490" id="Page_490">[Pg 490]</a></span> -works against the bright influence of the times and -throws the gloomy shadow of feudalism over some of the -fairest regions of the earth. It legislates for the age -of William the Conqueror instead of the reign of -Victoria.</p> - -<p class="i1">The few for hereditary luxury and dominion, the -many for hereditary misery and slavery, is the grand -fundamental principle of the English system. For every -gorgeous palace there are a thousand hovels, where even -beasts should not be forced to dwell. For every lord -who spends his days in drinking, gambling, hunting, -horse-racing, and indulging himself in all the luxuries -that money can purchase, a thousand persons, at -least, must toil day and night to obtain the most wretched -subsistence. In no country are the few richer than in -England, and in no country are the masses more fearfully -wretched. The great bulk of the property of -England, both civil and ecclesiastical, is in the grasp of -the aristocracy. All offices of church and state, yielding -any considerable emolument, are monopolized by the -lords and their nominees. The masses earn—the lords -spend. The lords have all the property, but the masses -pay all the taxes, and slave and starve that the taxes -may be paid.</p> - -<p class="i1">Without such a system, is it possible that there could -be millions of acres of good land lying waste, and millions -of paupers who dare not cultivate it?—that the -workhouses could be crowded—that men, women, and -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_491" id="Page_491">[Pg 491]</a></span> -children could be driven to all kinds of work, and yet -by the most exhausting toil not earn enough to enable -them to live decently and comfortably—that honest and -industrious people could starve by the wayside, or die -of disease engendered in dirty hovels—that vice and -crime could be practised to an appalling extent—that -whole villages could be swept away and the poor labourers -either driven into the crowded cities, or to a -distant land, far from kindred and friends?</p> - -<p class="i1">The aristocrats of England are the most extensive -slaveholders in the world. In England, Wales, Scotland, -and Ireland, they have the entire labouring mass -for their slaves—men, women, and children being doomed -to the most grinding toil to enable their masters to live -in luxurious ease. In India and the other colonies they -have treated the natives as the conquered were treated -in the Middle Ages. They have drained their resources, -oppressed them in every way, and disposed of tribes and -nations as if they had been dealing with cattle. Add -the slaves of India to the slaves of the United Kingdom, -and we may count them by tens of millions. These -slaves are not naturally inferior to their masters. They -belong to races fertile in great and good men and -women. Poets, artists, philosophers, historians, statesmen, -and warriors of the first magnitude in genius have -sprung from these down-trodden people. They have -fully proved themselves capable of enjoying the sweets -of freedom. They remain slaves because their masters -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_492" id="Page_492">[Pg 492]</a></span> -find it profitable, and know how to cozen and bully them -into submission.</p> - -<p class="i1">The following description of France before the great -revolution of 1789, by M. Thiers, is strikingly applicable -to the condition of Great Britain at the present -day:—</p> - -<div class="bq"> - -<p class="i1">"The condition of the country, both political and economical, -was intolerable. There was nothing but privilege—privilege vested -in individuals, in classes, in towns, in provinces, and even in -trades and professions. Every thing contributed to check industry -and the natural genius of man. All the dignities of the state, -civil, ecclesiastical, and military, were exclusively reserved to certain -individuals. No man could take up a profession without -certain titles and the compliance with certain pecuniary conditions. -Even the favours of the crown were converted into family -property, so that the king could scarcely exercise his own judgment, -or give any preference. Almost the only liberty left to the -sovereign was that of making pecuniary gifts, and he had been -reduced to the necessity of disputing with the Duke of Coigny for -the abolition of a useless place. Every thing, then, was made immovable -property in the hands of a few, and everywhere these few -resisted the many who had been despoiled. The burdens of the -state weighed on one class only. The noblesse and the clergy -possessed about two-thirds of the landed property; the other -third, possessed by the people, paid taxes to the king, a long list of -feudal <i>droits</i> to the noblesse, tithes to the clergy, and had, moreover, -to support the devastations committed by noble sportsmen and -their game. The taxes upon consumption pressed upon the great -multitude, and consequently on the people. The collection of -these imposts was managed in an unfair and irritating manner; -the lords of the soil left long arrears with impunity, but the people, -upon any delay in payment, were harshly treated, arrested, -and condemned to pay in their persons, in default of money to -produce. The people, therefore, nourished with their labour and -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_493" id="Page_493">[Pg 493]</a></span> -defended with their blood the higher classes of society, without -being able to procure a comfortable subsistence for themselves. -The townspeople, a body of citizens, industrious, educated, less -miserable than the people, could nevertheless obtain none of the -advantages to which they had a right to aspire, seeing that it was -their industry that nourished and their talents that adorned the -kingdom."</p></div> - -<p class="i1">The elements of revolution are all to be found in -Great Britain. A Mirabeau, with dauntless will and -stormy eloquence, could use them with tremendous -effect. Yet the giant of the people does not raise his -voice to plead the cause of the oppressed, and to awaken -that irresistible enthusiasm which would sweep away the -pampered aristocracy.</p> - -<p class="i1">The armorial escutcheons of the aristocracy are fearfully -significant of its character. Says John Hampden, -Jun.:<a name="FNanchor_116_116" id="FNanchor_116_116"></a> -<a href="#Footnote_116_116" class="fnanchor">[116]</a>—</p> - -<div class="bq"> - -<p class="i1">"The whole emblazonment of aristocracy is one manifesto of -savage barbarism, brute force, and propensity to robbery and plunder. -What are these objects on their shields? Daggers, swords, -lions' heads, dogs' heads, arrow-heads, boars' heads, cannon balls, -clubs, with a medley of stars, moons, and unmeaning figures. -What are the crests of these arms? Lascivious goats, rampant -lions, fiery dragons, and griffins gone crazed: bulls' heads, block-heads, -arms with uplifted daggers, beasts with daggers, and vultures -tearing up helpless birds. What, again, are the supporters -of these shields? What are the emblems of the powers by which -they are maintained and upheld? The demonstration is deeply -significant. They are the most singular assemblage of all that is -fierce, savage, rampageous, villanous, lurking, treacherous, blood-thirsty, -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_494" id="Page_494">[Pg 494]</a></span> -cruel, and bestial in bestial natures. They are infuriated -lions, boars, and tigers; they are raging bulls, filthy goats, horrid -hyenas, snarling dogs, drunken bears, and mad rams; they are -foxes, wolves, panthers, every thing that is creeping, sneaking, -thievish, and perfidious. Nay, nature cannot furnish emblems -extensive enough, and so start up to our astonished sight the most -hideous shapes of fiendlike dragons and griffins, black, blasted as -by infernal fires; the most fuliginous of monsters; and if the human -shape is assumed for the guardians and supporters of aristocracy, -they are wild and savage men, armed with clubs and grim -with hair, scowling brute defiance, and seeming ready to knock -down any man at the command of their lords. Ay, the very birds -of prey are called in; and eagles, vultures, cormorants, in most -expressive attitudes, with most ludicrous embellishments of -crowned heads, collared necks, escutcheoned sides, and with -hoisted wings and beaks of open and devouring wrath, proclaim -the same great truth, that aristocracy is of the class of what the -Germans call <i>Raub-thieren</i>, or robber-beasts—in our vernacular, -<i>beasts of prey</i>."</p></div> - -<p class="i1">And the character thus published to the world has -been acted out to the full from the days of the bastard -Duke of Normandy and his horde of ruffians to the -time of the "Iron Duke" and his associates in title and -plunder. The hyenas and vultures have never been -satisfied.</p> - -<p class="i1">The crime of England lies in maintaining the slavery -of a barbarous age in the middle of the nineteenth century; -in keeping her slaves in physical misery, mental -darkness, moral depravity, and heathenism; in carrying -fire and sword into some of the loveliest regions of -the earth, in order to gratify that thirst for wealth and -dominion ever characteristic of an aristocracy; in -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_495" id="Page_495">[Pg 495]</a></span> -forcing her slaves in India to cultivate poison, and her -weak neighbours of China to buy it; in plundering and -oppressing the people of all her colonies; in concentrating -the wealth of the United Kingdom and the dependencies -in the purses of a few persons, and thus -dooming all others beneath her iron rule to constant, -exhausting, and unrewarded toil! We arraign her before -the tribunal of justice and humanity, as the most -powerful and destructive of tyrannies; as the author -of Ireland's miseries, and a course of action toward -that island compared with which the dismemberment of -Poland was merciful; as the remorseless conqueror of -the Hindoos; as a government so oppressive that her -people are flying by thousands to the shores of America -to escape its inflictions! Though most criminals plead -"not guilty," she cannot have the front to do so! The -general judgment of civilized mankind has long ago -pronounced a verdict of conviction.</p> - -<p class="i1">Yet, guilty as is the English oligarchy, certain of its -members have taken to lecturing the world about the -duties of Christians and philanthropists. This, we suppose, -in charity, is done upon the principle given by -Hamlet to his mother—</p> - -<p class="ac">"Assume a virtue if you have it not."</p> - -<p class="i1">But a loftier authority than Shakspeare tells us to -remove the beam from our own eye before we point to -the mote that is in the eye of a brother. Example, -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_496" id="Page_496">[Pg 496]</a></span> -also, is more powerful than precept. Pious exhortations -from a villain are usually disregarded. A -preacher should never have the blood of slaughtered -victims on his hands.</p> - -<p class="i1">We think it not difficult to show that England is the -best friend of slavery, while professing an aversion to -it, and dictating to other governments to strive for its -abolition. At an enormous expense, she maintains -men-of-war upon the coast of Africa, with the object -of suppressing the trade in negro slaves. This expense -her white slaves are taxed to pay; while the men-of-war -have not only not suppressed the slave-trade, but -have doubled its horrors, by compelling the slave-traders -to inflict new tortures upon the negroes they -capture and conceal. In the mean time, the government -is doing all in its power to impoverish and enslave -(for the slavery of a people follows its poverty) the -more intelligent races of the world. England prides -herself upon her efforts to destroy the trade in African -savages and chattel slavery. Her philanthropy is all -black; miserable wretches with pale faces have no -claims upon her assisting hand; and she refuses to -recognise the only kind of slavery by which masters -are necessitated to provide well for their slaves, while -she enforces that system which starves them! England -is the best friend of the most destructive species of -slavery, and has extended it over tens of millions of -human beings.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_497" id="Page_497">[Pg 497]</a></span></p> - -<p class="i1">Justice, humanity, and the age demand the abolition -of this exhausting, famine-breeding, and murderous -system. It is hostile to every principle of right—to -civilization, and to the loving spirit of Christianity. -Starving millions groan beneath the yoke. From the -crowded factories and workshops—from the pestilential -hovels—from the dark and slave-filled coal-pits—from -the populous workhouses—from the vast army of wandering -beggars in England and Scotland—from the -perishing peasantry of Ireland—from the wretched -Hindoos upon the Ganges and the Indus—from the -betrayed Coolies in the West-India Islands—arises the -cry for relief from the plunderers and the oppressors. -"How long, O Lord, how long!"</p> - -<p class="i1">A few thousand persons own the United Kingdom. -They have robbed and reduced to slavery not only -their own countrymen, but millions in other lands. -They continue to rob wherever they find an opportunity. -They spend what their crime has accumulated in all -kinds of vice and dissipation, and rear their children -to the same courses. Money raised for religious purposes -they waste in luxurious living. They trade in -all the offices of church and state. They persecute, -by exclusion, all who do not subscribe to "thirty-nine -articles" which they wish to force upon mankind. In -brief, the oligarchy lies like an incubus upon the empire, -and the people cannot call themselves either free or -happy until the aristocrats be driven from their high -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_498" id="Page_498">[Pg 498]</a></span> -places. Burst, then, the chains, ye countrymen of -Hampden and Vane! Show to the world that the old -fire is not yet quenched! that the spirits of your martyrs -to liberty are yet among you, and their lessons in -your hearts! Obtain your freedom—peaceably, if you -can—<i>but obtain it</i>, for it expands and ennobles the life -of a nation! In the air of liberty alone can a people -enjoy a healthy existence. A day of real freedom is -worth more than years in a dungeon. What have you -to dread? Do you not know your strength? Be -assured, this aristocracy could not stand an hour, were -you resolved against its existence! It would be swept -away as a feather before a hurricane. Do you fear -that much blood would flow in the struggle? Consider -the hundreds of thousands who are crushed out of existence -every year by this aristocracy, and ask yourselves -if it is not better that the system should be over-thrown, -even at the expense of blood, than that it -should continue its destructive career? Had not men -better make an effort to secure freedom and plenty for -their posterity, than starve quietly by the wayside? -These are the questions you should take home to your -hearts. One grand, determined, glorious effort, and -you are free.</p> - -<p class="ml5 smaller">"Hereditary bondsmen, know ye not<br /> -Who would be free, themselves must strike the blow?"</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="footnotes"><h2>FOOTNOTES:</h2> - -<div class="footnote"> - <p><a name="Footnote_1_1" id="Footnote_1_1"></a> - <a href="#FNanchor_1_1"><span class="label">[1]</span></a> - The butties are the men who superintend the conveyance of the - coal from the digger to the pit-shaft.</p> -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - <p><a name="Footnote_2_2" id="Footnote_2_2"></a> - <a href="#FNanchor_2_2"><span class="label">[2]</span></a> - To <i>hurry</i> is to draw or push the coal-cars.</p> -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - <p><a name="Footnote_3_3" id="Footnote_3_3"></a> - <a href="#FNanchor_3_3"><span class="label">[3]</span></a> - Mitchell, Evidence, No. 7; App. pt. i. p. 65, 1. 31.</p> -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - <p><a name="Footnote_4_4" id="Footnote_4_4"></a> - <a href="#FNanchor_4_4"><span class="label">[4]</span></a> Ibid. in loco.</p> -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - <p><a name="Footnote_5_5" id="Footnote_5_5"></a> - <a href="#FNanchor_5_5"><span class="label">[5]</span></a> Fellows, Report, s. 58; App. - pt. ii. p. 256.</p> -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - <p><a name="Footnote_6_6" id="Footnote_6_6"></a> - <a href="#FNanchor_6_6"><span class="label">[6]</span></a> Mitchell, Evidence, No. 99; - App. pt. i. p. 155, 1. 8.</p> -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - <p><a name="Footnote_7_7" id="Footnote_7_7"></a> - <a href="#FNanchor_7_7"><span class="label">[7]</span></a> Dr. Mitchell, Report, s. 314; - App. pt. i. p. 39.</p> -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - <p><a name="Footnote_8_8" id="Footnote_8_8"></a> - <a href="#FNanchor_8_8"><span class="label">[8]</span></a> Fellows, Evidence, No. 10; - App. pt. ii. p. 266, 1. 10.</p> -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - <p><a name="Footnote_9_9" id="Footnote_9_9"></a> - <a href="#FNanchor_9_9"><span class="label">[9]</span></a> Symons, Report, s. 200; App. - pt. i. p. 193.</p> -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - <p><a name="Footnote_10_10" id="Footnote_10_10"></a> - <a href="#FNanchor_10_10"><span class="label">[10]</span></a> Wood, Report, s. 36; App. - pt. ii. p. H 7. Also Evidence, Nos. -60, 75, 76.</p> -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - <p><a name="Footnote_11_11" id="Footnote_11_11"></a> - <a href="#FNanchor_11_11"><span class="label">[11]</span></a> Kennedy, Report, s. 296; App. - pt. ii. p. 188.</p> -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - <p><a name="Footnote_12_12" id="Footnote_12_12"></a> - <a href="#FNanchor_12_12"><span class="label">[12]</span></a> Ibid. s. 304; p. 188.</p> -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - <p><a name="Footnote_13_13" id="Footnote_13_13"></a> - <a href="#FNanchor_13_13"><span class="label">[13]</span></a> Austin, Evidence, No. 1; - App. pt. ii. p. 811; i. 12. See also the remarks by Mr. Fletcher on the vicinity of Oldham, - App. pt. ii. s. 59, p. 832.</p> -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - <p><a name="Footnote_14_14" id="Footnote_14_14"></a> - <a href="#FNanchor_14_14"><span class="label">[14]</span></a> Mitchell, Report, s. 214; - App. pt. i. p. 143.</p> -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - <p><a name="Footnote_15_15" id="Footnote_15_15"></a> - <a href="#FNanchor_15_15"><span class="label">[15]</span></a> Mitchell, Evidence, No. 97; - App. pt. i. p. 154, 1. 19.</p> -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - <p><a name="Footnote_16_16" id="Footnote_16_16"></a> - <a href="#FNanchor_16_16"><span class="label">[16]</span></a> Leifchild, Report, s. 72; - App. pt. i. p. 252.</p> -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - <p><a name="Footnote_17_17" id="Footnote_17_17"></a> - <a href="#FNanchor_17_17"><span class="label">[17]</span></a> Leifchild, Evidence, No. 97; - App. pt. i. p. 587, 1. 39.</p> -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - <p><a name="Footnote_18_18" id="Footnote_18_18"></a> - <a href="#FNanchor_18_18"><span class="label">[18]</span></a> Ibid. No. 497, p. 665, 1. 7.</p> -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - <p><a name="Footnote_19_19" id="Footnote_19_19"></a> - <a href="#FNanchor_19_19"><span class="label">[19]</span></a> Ibid. No. 504, p. 672, 1. 22.</p> -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - <p><a name="Footnote_20_20" id="Footnote_20_20"></a> - <a href="#FNanchor_20_20"><span class="label">[20]</span></a> Symons, Report, s. 22; App. - pt. i. p. 302.</p> -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - <p><a name="Footnote_21_21" id="Footnote_21_21"></a> - <a href="#FNanchor_21_21"><span class="label">[21]</span></a> Symons, Evidence, No. 312; - App. pt. i. p. 305, 1. 59.</p> -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - <p><a name="Footnote_22_22" id="Footnote_22_22"></a> - <a href="#FNanchor_22_22"><span class="label">[22]</span></a> Franks, Report, App. A, No. 2; - App. pt. i. p. 410, 411.</p> -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - <p><a name="Footnote_23_23" id="Footnote_23_23"></a> - <a href="#FNanchor_23_23"><span class="label">[23]</span></a> Franks, Report, s. 85; - App. pt. ii. p. 485.</p> -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - <p><a name="Footnote_24_24" id="Footnote_24_24"></a> - <a href="#FNanchor_24_24"><span class="label">[24]</span></a> Franks, Evidence, No. 144; - App. pt. ii. p. 582, 1. 4.</p> -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - <p><a name="Footnote_25_25" id="Footnote_25_25"></a> - <a href="#FNanchor_25_25"><span class="label">[25]</span></a> Ibid. No. 2, p. 503, 1. 21.</p> -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - <p><a name="Footnote_26_26" id="Footnote_26_26"></a> - <a href="#FNanchor_26_26"><span class="label">[26]</span></a> R. W. Jones, Evidence, No. 102; - App. pt. ii. p. 64, 1. 28.</p> -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - <p><a name="Footnote_27_27" id="Footnote_27_27"></a> - <a href="#FNanchor_27_27"><span class="label">[27]</span></a> Fellows, Report, s. 45; App. - pt. ii. p. 255.</p> -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - <p><a name="Footnote_28_28" id="Footnote_28_28"></a> - <a href="#FNanchor_28_28"><span class="label">[28]</span></a> Symons, Report, s. 110; - App. pt. i. p. 181.</p> -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - <p><a name="Footnote_29_29" id="Footnote_29_29"></a> - <a href="#FNanchor_29_29"><span class="label">[29]</span></a> Symons, Evidence, No. 199; - App. pt. i. p. 279, 1. 3.</p> -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - <p><a name="Footnote_30_30" id="Footnote_30_30"></a> - <a href="#FNanchor_30_30"><span class="label">[30]</span></a> Ibid. No. 21; p. 282, 1. 246.</p> -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - <p><a name="Footnote_31_31" id="Footnote_31_31"></a> - <a href="#FNanchor_31_31"><span class="label">[31]</span></a> Wood, Evidence, No. 60; App. - pt. ii. p. h 27, 1. 46.</p> -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - <p><a name="Footnote_32_32" id="Footnote_32_32"></a> - <a href="#FNanchor_32_32"><span class="label">[32]</span></a> Kennedy, Evidence, No. 30; - App. pt. ii. p. 218, 1. 6.</p> -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - <p><a name="Footnote_33_33" id="Footnote_33_33"></a> - <a href="#FNanchor_33_33"><span class="label">[33]</span></a> Austin, Evidence, No. 7; App. - pt. ii. p. 812. 1. 160.</p> -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - <p><a name="Footnote_34_34" id="Footnote_34_34"></a> - <a href="#FNanchor_34_34"><span class="label">[34]</span></a> Ibid. No. 17; p. 815, 1. 53.</p> -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - <p><a name="Footnote_35_35" id="Footnote_35_35"></a> - <a href="#FNanchor_35_35"><span class="label">[35]</span></a> Leifchild, Evidence, No. 97; - App. pt. i. p. 587, 1. 32.</p> -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - <p><a name="Footnote_36_36" id="Footnote_36_36"></a> - <a href="#FNanchor_36_36"><span class="label">[36]</span></a> Leichfield, Evidence, No. 504; - p. 672, 1. 22.</p> -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - <p><a name="Footnote_37_37" id="Footnote_37_37"></a> - <a href="#FNanchor_37_37"><span class="label">[37]</span></a> Ibid. No. 498; p. 665, 1. 50.</p> -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - <p><a name="Footnote_38_38" id="Footnote_38_38"></a> - <a href="#FNanchor_38_38"><span class="label">[38]</span></a> Ibid. No. 496; p. 662, 1. 62.</p> -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - <p><a name="Footnote_39_39" id="Footnote_39_39"></a> - <a href="#FNanchor_39_39"><span class="label">[39]</span></a> Mitchell, Evidence, No. 46; - App. pt. i. p. 81, 1. 47.</p> -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - <p><a name="Footnote_40_40" id="Footnote_40_40"></a> - <a href="#FNanchor_40_40"><span class="label">[40]</span></a> Mitchell, Evidence, No. 77; - p. 113, 1. 6.</p> -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - <p><a name="Footnote_41_41" id="Footnote_41_41"></a> - <a href="#FNanchor_41_41"><span class="label">[41]</span></a> Ibid. No. 81; p. 114, 1. 22.</p> -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - <p><a name="Footnote_42_42" id="Footnote_42_42"></a> - <a href="#FNanchor_42_42"><span class="label">[42]</span></a> Ibid. No. 82; p. 114, 1. 61.</p> -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - <p><a name="Footnote_43_43" id="Footnote_43_43"></a> - <a href="#FNanchor_43_43"><span class="label">[43]</span></a> Fellows, Report, s. 49; - App. pt. ii. p. 256.</p> -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - <p><a name="Footnote_44_44" id="Footnote_44_44"></a> - <a href="#FNanchor_44_44"><span class="label">[44]</span></a> Fellows, Evidence, No. 105; - p. 292, 1. 48.</p> -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - <p><a name="Footnote_45_45" id="Footnote_45_45"></a> - <a href="#FNanchor_45_45"><span class="label">[45]</span></a> Fellows, Evidence, No. 10; - p. 262, 1. 8.</p> -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - <p><a name="Footnote_46_46" id="Footnote_46_46"></a> - <a href="#FNanchor_46_46"><span class="label">[46]</span></a> Symons, Report, s. 209; - App. pt. i. p. 193.</p> -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - <p><a name="Footnote_47_47" id="Footnote_47_47"></a> - <a href="#FNanchor_47_47"><span class="label">[47]</span></a> Wood, Report, s. 42; - App. pt. ii. p. 167.</p> -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - <p><a name="Footnote_48_48" id="Footnote_48_48"></a> - <a href="#FNanchor_48_48"><span class="label">[48]</span></a> Leifchild, Evidence, No. 499; - App. pt. i. p. 668, 1. 44.</p> -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - <p><a name="Footnote_49_49" id="Footnote_49_49"></a> - <a href="#FNanchor_49_49"><span class="label">[49]</span></a> Ibid. No. 498; p. 665, 1. 52.</p> -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - <p><a name="Footnote_50_50" id="Footnote_50_50"></a> - <a href="#FNanchor_50_50"><span class="label">[50]</span></a> Franks, Report, s. 68; - App. pt. i. p. 396.</p> -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - <p><a name="Footnote_51_51" id="Footnote_51_51"></a> - <a href="#FNanchor_51_51"><span class="label">[51]</span></a> Tancred, Evidence, No. 34; - App. pt. i. p. 371, 1. 58.</p> -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - <p><a name="Footnote_52_52" id="Footnote_52_52"></a> - <a href="#FNanchor_52_52"><span class="label">[52]</span></a> H. H. Jones, Report, s. 83; - App. pt. ii. p. 375.</p> -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - <p><a name="Footnote_53_53" id="Footnote_53_53"></a> - <a href="#FNanchor_53_53"><span class="label">[53]</span></a> H. H. Jones, Evidence, No. 96; - App. pt. ii. p. 407, 1. 51.</p> -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - <p><a name="Footnote_54_54" id="Footnote_54_54"></a> - <a href="#FNanchor_54_54"><span class="label">[54]</span></a> Waring, Evidence, No. 38; - App. pt. ii. p. 25, 1. 57.</p> -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - <p><a name="Footnote_55_55" id="Footnote_55_55"></a> - <a href="#FNanchor_55_55"><span class="label">[55]</span></a> Stewart, Evidence, No. 7; - App. pt. ii. p. 50, 1. 48.</p> -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - <p><a name="Footnote_56_56" id="Footnote_56_56"></a> - <a href="#FNanchor_56_56"><span class="label">[56]</span></a> Fellows, Evidence, No. 84; - App. pt. ii. p. 287, 1. 38.</p> -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - <p><a name="Footnote_57_57" id="Footnote_57_57"></a> - <a href="#FNanchor_57_57"><span class="label">[57]</span></a> Symons, Report, s. 110, - App. pt. i. p. 181.</p> -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - <p><a name="Footnote_58_58" id="Footnote_58_58"></a> - <a href="#FNanchor_58_58"><span class="label">[58]</span></a> Symons, Evidence, No. 221; - App. pt. i. p. 282, 1. 45.</p> -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - <p><a name="Footnote_59_59" id="Footnote_59_59"></a> - <a href="#FNanchor_59_59"><span class="label">[59]</span></a> Ibid. No. 268; p. 292, 1. 51.</p> -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - <p><a name="Footnote_60_60" id="Footnote_60_60"></a> - <a href="#FNanchor_60_60"><span class="label">[60]</span></a> Kennedy, Report, s. 299; - App. pt. ii. p. 188.</p> -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - <p><a name="Footnote_61_61" id="Footnote_61_61"></a> - <a href="#FNanchor_61_61"><span class="label">[61]</span></a> Mitchell, Report, s. 212; - App. pt. i. p. 143.</p> -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - <p><a name="Footnote_62_62" id="Footnote_62_62"></a> - <a href="#FNanchor_62_62"><span class="label">[62]</span></a> Mitchell, Evidence, No. 96; - App. pt. i. p. 153, 1. 57.</p> -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - <p><a name="Footnote_63_63" id="Footnote_63_63"></a> - <a href="#FNanchor_63_63"><span class="label">[63]</span></a> Ibid. No. 97; p. 153, 1. 64.</p> -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - <p><a name="Footnote_64_64" id="Footnote_64_64"></a> - <a href="#FNanchor_64_64"><span class="label">[64]</span></a> Franks, Report, s. 121; - App. pt. i. p. 408.</p> -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - <p><a name="Footnote_65_65" id="Footnote_65_65"></a> - <a href="#FNanchor_65_65"><span class="label">[65]</span></a> Franks, Evidence, No. 273; - App. pt. i. p. 487, 1. 25.</p> -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - <p><a name="Footnote_66_66" id="Footnote_66_66"></a> - <a href="#FNanchor_66_66"><span class="label">[66]</span></a> Franks, Evidence, No. 73; - p. 450, 1. 31.</p> -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - <p><a name="Footnote_67_67" id="Footnote_67_67"></a> - <a href="#FNanchor_67_67"><span class="label">[67]</span></a> Ibid. No. 83; p. 452, 1. 29.</p> -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - <p><a name="Footnote_68_68" id="Footnote_68_68"></a> - <a href="#FNanchor_68_68"><span class="label">[68]</span></a> H. H. Jones, Report, s. 84; - App. pt. ii. p. 375.</p> -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - <p><a name="Footnote_69_69" id="Footnote_69_69"></a> - <a href="#FNanchor_69_69"><span class="label">[69]</span></a> H. H. Jones, Evidence, No. 96; - App. pt. ii. p. 407, 1. 53.</p> -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - <p><a name="Footnote_70_70" id="Footnote_70_70"></a> - <a href="#FNanchor_70_70"><span class="label">[70]</span></a> Ibid. No. 2; p. 378, 1. 35.</p> -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - <p><a name="Footnote_71_71" id="Footnote_71_71"></a> - <a href="#FNanchor_71_71"><span class="label">[71]</span></a> Ibid. No. 3; p. 379, 1. 34.</p> -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - <p><a name="Footnote_72_72" id="Footnote_72_72"></a> - <a href="#FNanchor_72_72"><span class="label">[72]</span></a> Scriven, Report, s. 83; App. - pt. ii. p. 72.</p> -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - <p><a name="Footnote_73_73" id="Footnote_73_73"></a> - <a href="#FNanchor_73_73"><span class="label">[73]</span></a> Symons, Evidence, s. 96; App. - pt. i. p. 187.</p> -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - <p><a name="Footnote_74_74" id="Footnote_74_74"></a> - <a href="#FNanchor_74_74"><span class="label">[74]</span></a> Wood, Evidence, No. 76; App. - pt. ii. p. <i>h</i> 32, 1. 18.</p> -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - <p><a name="Footnote_75_75" id="Footnote_75_75"></a> - <a href="#FNanchor_75_75"><span class="label">[75]</span></a> Symons, Evidence, No. 197; - App. pt. i. p. 277, 1. 68.</p> -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - <p><a name="Footnote_76_76" id="Footnote_76_76"></a> - <a href="#FNanchor_76_76"><span class="label">[76]</span></a> Austin, Evidence, No. 9; - App. pt. ii. p. 813, 1. 40.</p> -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - <p><a name="Footnote_77_77" id="Footnote_77_77"></a> - <a href="#FNanchor_77_77"><span class="label">[77]</span></a> Scriven, Report, s. 82; - App. pt. ii. p. 72.</p> -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - <p><a name="Footnote_78_78" id="Footnote_78_78"></a> - <a href="#FNanchor_78_78"><span class="label">[78]</span></a> Scriven, Evidence, No. 2; - App. pt. ii. p. 101, 1. 33.</p> -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - <p><a name="Footnote_79_79" id="Footnote_79_79"></a> - <a href="#FNanchor_79_79"><span class="label">[79]</span></a> Ibid. No. 79, p. 124, 1. 28. - See also Nos. 12, 13, 18, 25.</p> -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - <p><a name="Footnote_80_80" id="Footnote_80_80"></a> - <a href="#FNanchor_80_80"><span class="label">[80]</span></a> Leifchild, Evidence, No. 86; - App. pt. i. p. 583, 1. 27.</p> -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - <p><a name="Footnote_81_81" id="Footnote_81_81"></a> - <a href="#FNanchor_81_81"><span class="label">[81]</span></a> Leifchild, Evidence, No. 201; - p. 610, 1. 52.</p> -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - <p><a name="Footnote_82_82" id="Footnote_82_82"></a> - <a href="#FNanchor_82_82"><span class="label">[82]</span></a> Ibid. No. 267, p. 623, 1. 11.</p> -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - <p><a name="Footnote_83_83" id="Footnote_83_83"></a> - <a href="#FNanchor_83_83"><span class="label">[83]</span></a> Franks, Evidence, No. 31; - App. pt. ii. p. 510, 1. 49.</p> -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - <p><a name="Footnote_84_84" id="Footnote_84_84"></a> - <a href="#FNanchor_84_84"><span class="label">[84]</span></a> Leifchild, Evidence, No. 385; - App. pt. i. p. 645, 1. 35.</p> -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - <p><a name="Footnote_85_85" id="Footnote_85_85"></a> - <a href="#FNanchor_85_85"><span class="label">[85]</span></a> Ibid. No. 375, p. 644, 1. 48.</p> -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - <p><a name="Footnote_86_86" id="Footnote_86_86"></a> - <a href="#FNanchor_86_86"><span class="label">[86]</span></a> Tancred, Evidence, No. 9; - App. pt. i. p. 361, 1. 45.</p> -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - <p><a name="Footnote_87_87" id="Footnote_87_87"></a> - <a href="#FNanchor_87_87"><span class="label">[87]</span></a> Leifchild, Evidence, No. 376; - App. pt. i. p. 644, 1. 54.</p> -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - <p><a name="Footnote_88_88" id="Footnote_88_88"></a> - <a href="#FNanchor_88_88"><span class="label">[88]</span></a> Enclosed for the inspection of - the Central Board. It is entitled, "A Memoir of Robert Blincoe, &c., Manchester." - J. Doherty. 1852.</p> -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - <p><a name="Footnote_89_89" id="Footnote_89_89"></a> - <a href="#FNanchor_89_89"><span class="label">[89]</span></a> <i>England and America</i>, - Harpers & Brothers, publishers, 1834.</p> -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - <p><a name="Footnote_90_90" id="Footnote_90_90"></a> - <a href="#FNanchor_90_90"><span class="label">[90]</span></a> Every-day Life in London.</p> -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - <p><a name="Footnote_91_91" id="Footnote_91_91"></a> - <a href="#FNanchor_91_91"><span class="label">[91]</span></a> This is done at the Model - Prison, Pentonville.</p> -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - <p><a name="Footnote_92_92" id="Footnote_92_92"></a> - <a href="#FNanchor_92_92"><span class="label">[92]</span></a> London Daily News.</p> -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - <p><a name="Footnote_93_93" id="Footnote_93_93"></a> - <a href="#FNanchor_93_93"><span class="label">[93]</span></a> In order that these men shall - be thus protected, it is necessary for the master <span class="sc">TO NAME THEM</span>, before - they are impressed; this is to be done by going before the mayor or other chief magistrate - of the place, who is to give the master a certificate, in which is contained the names of - the particular men whom he thus nominates; and this certificate will be their protection.</p> -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - <p><a name="Footnote_94_94" id="Footnote_94_94"></a> - <a href="#FNanchor_94_94"><span class="label">[94]</span></a> Auctioned.</p> -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - <p><a name="Footnote_95_95" id="Footnote_95_95"></a> - <a href="#FNanchor_95_95"><span class="label">[95]</span></a> Household Words.</p> -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - <p><a name="Footnote_96_96" id="Footnote_96_96"></a> - <a href="#FNanchor_96_96"><span class="label">[96]</span></a> Charge on the Marlborough - Commission, p. 5. Cited in Lewis's -Irish Disturbances, p. 227.</p> -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - <p><a name="Footnote_97_97" id="Footnote_97_97"></a> - <a href="#FNanchor_97_97"><span class="label">[97]</span></a> See the evidence of Mr. Blacker, - House of Commons' Report on the State of Ireland, 1824, p. 75; that of Mr. Griffiths, - <i>ibid.</i> 232; and that of Mr. Blacker, House of Lords' Report, 1824, p. 14.</p> -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - <p><a name="Footnote_98_98" id="Footnote_98_98"></a> - <a href="#FNanchor_98_98"><span class="label">[98]</span></a> House of Commons' Committee - on Combinations, 1838. Questions -5872-5876.</p> -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - <p><a name="Footnote_99_99" id="Footnote_99_99"></a> - <a href="#FNanchor_99_99"><span class="label">[99]</span></a> Edinburgh Review.</p> -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - <p><a name="Footnote_100_100" id="Footnote_100_100"></a> - <a href="#FNanchor_100_100"><span class="label">[100]</span></a> Servants and Servitude, - in Howitt's Journal.</p> -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - <p><a name="Footnote_101_101" id="Footnote_101_101"></a> - <a href="#FNanchor_101_101"><span class="label">[101]</span></a> Sanitary Inquiry Report, - 1843, p.64.</p> -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - <p><a name="Footnote_102_102" id="Footnote_102_102"></a> - <a href="#FNanchor_102_102"><span class="label">[102]</span></a> Kay.</p> -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - <p><a name="Footnote_103_103" id="Footnote_103_103"></a> - <a href="#FNanchor_103_103"><span class="label">[103]</span></a> The Slave Trade, Domestic - and Foreign.</p> -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - <p><a name="Footnote_104_104" id="Footnote_104_104"></a> - <a href="#FNanchor_104_104"><span class="label">[104]</span></a> Bigelow's Jamaica in 1850.</p> -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - <p><a name="Footnote_105_105" id="Footnote_105_105"></a> - <a href="#FNanchor_105_105"><span class="label">[105]</span></a> Backhouse's Visit to the - Mauritius.</p> -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - <p><a name="Footnote_106_106" id="Footnote_106_106"></a> - <a href="#FNanchor_106_106"><span class="label">[106]</span></a> Brigg's Historical - Fragments.</p> -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - <p><a name="Footnote_107_107" id="Footnote_107_107"></a> - <a href="#FNanchor_107_107"><span class="label">[107]</span></a> Carey.</p> -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - <p><a name="Footnote_108_108" id="Footnote_108_108"></a> - <a href="#FNanchor_108_108"><span class="label">[108]</span></a> Carey.</p> -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - <p><a name="Footnote_109_109" id="Footnote_109_109"></a> - <a href="#FNanchor_109_109"><span class="label">[109]</span></a> Campbell's Modern India.</p> -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - <p><a name="Footnote_110_110" id="Footnote_110_110"></a> - <a href="#FNanchor_110_110"><span class="label">[110]</span></a> "Some of Mr. Smith's servants - entered into a combination to defraud a suitor in his court of a large sum of money, which he - was to pay to Mrs. Smith as she walked in the garden. A dancing-girl from the town of - Jubbulpore was made to represent Mrs. Smith, and a suit of Mrs. Smith's clothes were borrowed - for her from the washer-woman. The butler took the suitor into the garden and introduced him - to the supposed Mrs. Smith, who received him very graciously, and condescended to accept his - offer of five thousand rupees in gold mohurs. The plot was afterward discovered, and the old - butler, washer-woman and all, were sentenced to labour in a rope on the roads."</p> -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - <p><a name="Footnote_111_111" id="Footnote_111_111"></a> - <a href="#FNanchor_111_111"><span class="label">[111]</span></a> Lords' Evidence, 1687.</p> -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - <p><a name="Footnote_112_112" id="Footnote_112_112"></a> - <a href="#FNanchor_112_112"><span class="label">[112]</span></a> Campbell's Modern India.</p> -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - <p><a name="Footnote_113_113" id="Footnote_113_113"></a> - <a href="#FNanchor_113_113"><span class="label">[113]</span></a> Rikards.</p> -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - <p><a name="Footnote_114_114" id="Footnote_114_114"></a> - <a href="#FNanchor_114_114"><span class="label">[114]</span></a> Collector's Report.</p> -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - <p><a name="Footnote_115_115" id="Footnote_115_115"></a> - <a href="#FNanchor_115_115"><span class="label">[115]</span></a> Sketch of Assam.</p> -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - <p><a name="Footnote_116_116" id="Footnote_116_116"></a> - <a href="#FNanchor_116_116"><span class="label">[116]</span></a> The Aristocracy of England.</p> -</div> -</div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p class="ac larger"><i>MILLER, ORTON & MULLIGAN PUBLISH</i></p> - -<table class="narrow2" id="ADS" summary="Advertisements"> - <tr> - <td style="width:85%" class="c1-4">*<b>FERN LEAVES FROM FANNY'S PORTFOLIO,—First - Series</b>,</td> - <td style="width:15%" class="c2"></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c1-3">8 illustrations by Coffin, engraved by N. Orr, muslin, 400 pp., 12mo.,</td> - <td class="c2">1 25</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c1"><span class="sc">The Same</span>—muslin, gilt top and side,</td> - <td class="c2">1 25</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c1-3">Do do gilt edges and - sides,</td> - <td class="c2">1 75</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c1-3">Do do gilt edges and - full gilt sides,</td> - <td class="c2">2 00</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c1-4">*<b>THE SAME—Second Series</b>,</td> - <td class="c2"></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c1-3">Uniform in Styles and Prices with the First Series—(to be ready in - March.)</td> - <td class="c2"></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c1-4">*<b>LITTLE FERNS FOR FANNY'S LITTLE FRIENDS</b>,</td> - <td class="c2"></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c1-3">By the Author of Fern Leaves, 6 illustrations, muslin, 298 pp., 16mo.</td> - <td class="c2">75</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c1"><span class="sc">The Same</span>—muslin, gilt top and side,</td> - <td class="c2">1 00</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c1-3">Do do gilt edges and - full gilt sides,</td> - <td class="c2">1 25</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c1-4"><b>NOBLE DEEDS OF AMERICAN WOMEN</b>,</td> - <td class="c2"></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c1-3">Edited by <span class="sc">J. Clement</span> and Mrs. <span class="sc">L. H. - Sigourney</span>, 7 illustrations on steel and wood, muslin, 480 pp. 12mo.</td> - <td class="c2">1 50</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c1"><span class="sc">The Same</span>—muslin, gilt edges and full gilt sides,</td> - <td class="c2">2 25</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c1-4"><b>FRESH LEAVES FROM WESTERN WOODS</b>,</td> - <td class="c2"></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c1-3">By <span class="sc">Metta V. Fuller</span>, muslin, 315 pp. 12mo.</td> - <td class="c2">1 00</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c1"><span class="sc">The Same</span>—muslin, gilt edges and full gilt sides,</td> - <td class="c2">1 75</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c1-4"><b>SUMMERFIELD, OR LIFE ON THE FARM</b>,</td> - <td class="c2"></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c1-3">By Rev. <span class="sc">Day Kellogg Lee</span>, frontispiece on steel, - 16mo. 246 pp.</td> - <td class="c2">1 00</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c1"><span class="sc">The Same</span>—muslin, gilt edges and full gilt sides,</td> - <td class="c2">1.75</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c1-4"><b>ODD-FELLOW'S AMULET</b>,</td> - <td class="c2"></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c1-3">Or the principles of Odd-Fellowship defined, the objections answered, - and its advantages maintained, by Rev. <span class="sc">D. W. Bristol</span>, with five - illustrations on steel, muslin, 12mo. 248 pp</td> - <td class="c2">1 00</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c1"><span class="sc">The Same</span>—muslin, gilt edges and full gilt sides,</td> - <td class="c2">1 50</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c1-4"><b>HOUSEHOLD SCENES FOR THE HOME CIRCLE</b>,</td> - <td class="c2"></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c1-3">4 illustrations, muslin, 311 pp., 12mo.,</td> - <td class="c2">1 00</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c1"><span class="sc">The Same</span>—muslin, gilt sides,</td> - <td class="c2">1 75</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c1-4"><b>THE SUNRISE AND SUNSET OF LIFE</b>,</td> - <td class="c2"></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c1-3">A True Tale, by <span class="sc">Helen F. Parker</span>, muslin, - 220 pp., 16mo.,</td> - <td class="c2">67</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c1"><span class="sc">The Same</span>—muslin, full gilt,</td> - <td class="c2">1 00</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c1-4"><b>WHITE SLAVES OF ENGLAND</b>,</td> - <td class="c2"></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c1-3">An Exposition of the condition and treatment of the Laboring Classes in - the Factories and Coal Mines of Great Britain; compiled from official documents, by - <span class="sc">John C. Cobden</span>, 11 illustrations, muslin, 500 pp., 12mo.,</td> - <td class="c2">1 50</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c1-4"><b>HINTS AND HELPS to Health and Happiness</b>,</td> - <td class="c2"></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c1-3">By <span class="sc">J. H. Ross</span>, M. D., illustrated, muslin, 325 pp., - 12mo.,</td> - <td class="c2">1 00</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c1-4"><b>PROGRESS OF CIVILIZATION</b>,</td> - <td class="c2"></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c1-3">And other Lectures, by Rev. <span class="sc">John C. Lord</span>, D. D., - 16mo.,</td> - <td class="c2">67</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c1-4"><b>THE NEW CLERK'S ASSISTANT</b>,</td> - <td class="c2"></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c1-3">Or every man his own Lawyer, a book of Practical Forms, containing - numerous precedents for ordinary business transactions, designed for the use of County and - Town Officers, Merchants, Mechanics, Farmers, and Professional Men: New Constitution, by - <span class="sc">J. S. Jenkins</span>, law sheep, 644 pp., 8vo.</td> - <td class="c2">2 50</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c1-4">*<b>THE NEW-YORK CIVIL AND CRIMINAL JUSTICE</b>,</td> - <td class="c2"></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c1-3">A complete treatise on the Civil and Criminal Jurisdiction, and the - Special Powers and Duties of Justices of the Peace in the State of New-York, with numerous - Forms and a copious Index, by <span class="sc">Morgan</span>, - <span class="sc">Blatchford</span> and <span class="sc">Seward</span>, - law sheep, 907 pp.</td> - <td class="c2">4 00</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c1-4">*<b>THE GENERAL STATUTES OF NEW-YORK</b>,</td> - <td class="c2"></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c1-3">Being the Laws of a General Nature in the Revised Statutes of New-York, - with Notes and References to Judicial Decisions, and the Constitution of 1846, by - <span class="sc">S. Blatchford</span>, Esq., with a copious Index, by Clarence A. - Seward, law sheep, 1165 pp., 8vo.</td> - <td class="c2">3 50</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c1"><span class="sc">The Same</span>—in 2 vols., law sheep,</td> - <td class="c2">4 00</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c1-4">*<b>BLATCHFORD'S REPORT OF CASES</b>,</td> - <td class="c2"></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c1-3">Argued and determined in the Circuit Court U. S. for the 2d Circuit, Hon. - Samuel Nelson, Presiding Justice; by <span class="sc">Samuel Blatchford</span>, Esq., - Reporter to the Court, law sheep, 703 pp., 8vo., vol. 1,</td> - <td class="c2">5 50</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c1"><span class="sc">The Same</span>—vol. 2, (in press—ready early in the summer of - 1854,)</td> - <td class="c2">5 50</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c1-4"><b>EXECUTOR'S, ADMINISTRATOR'S AND GUARDIAN'S GUIDE</b>,</td> - <td class="c2"></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c1-3">Their Powers, Duties, Rights and Obligations, with an Appendix of Practical - Forms; also, the Duties of Surrogates, third edition, revised and enlarged, and adapted to - the New Constitution; by <span class="sc">David Wright</span>, Counsellor at Law, law - sheep, 408 pp., 12mo.</td> - <td class="c2">1 50</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c1-4"><b>THE NEW CONSTABLE'S GUIDE</b>,</td> - <td class="c2"></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c1-3">And Marshal's Assistant, their Powers and Duties, Privileges and - Liabilities, in Civil and Criminal Proceedings in the State of New-York, with - Practical Forms, a new and revised edition, law sheep, 260 pp., 12mo.</td> - <td class="c2">1 00</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c1-4"><b>NEW ROAD ACT AND HIGHWAY LAWS</b>,</td> - <td class="c2"></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c1-3">Being a practical Compend of the Powers and Duties of Commissioners and - Overseers of Highways in the State of New-York, with References to the Statutes and Legal - Decisions, and all the necessary Forms, by a Counsellor at Law, large octavo pamphlet, - 40 pp.</td> - <td class="c2">25</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c1-4">*<b>YOUNG'S SCIENCE OF GOVERNMENT</b>,</td> - <td class="c2"></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c1-3">New and improved edition, brought down to 1854, and adapted to the use - of Schools, by <span class="sc">A. W. Young</span>, sheep, 368 pp., 12mo.</td> - <td class="c2">1 00</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c1-4"><b>THE AMERICAN ORATOR'S OWN BOOK</b>,</td> - <td class="c2"></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c1-3">Being Selections from the ablest English and American Authors, muslin, - 350 pp., 12mo.</td> - <td class="c2">1 25</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c1-4"><b>YOUATT ON THE HORSE</b>,</td> - <td class="c2"></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c1-3">Their Structure and Diseases, with their Remedies; also, Practical Rules - to Buyers, Breeders, Breakers, Smiths, &c.; Notes by <span class="sc">Spooner</span>. - An account of breeds in the United States, by <span class="sc">H. S. Randall</span>—with - 60 illustrations, muslin, 483 pp., 12mo.</td> - <td class="c2">1 50</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c1-4"><b>YOUATT AND MARTIN ON CATTLE</b>,</td> - <td class="c2"></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c1-3">With their Breeds, Management, and Diseases; a complete guide for the - Farmer, the Amateur, and the Veterinary Surgeon; with 100 illustrations, - muslin, 469 pp., 12mo.</td> - <td class="c2">1 50</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c1-4"><b>*THE AMERICAN FRUIT CULTURIST</b>,</td> - <td class="c2"></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c1-3">With directions for the Orchard, Nursery and Garden, and descriptions of - American and Foreign Varieties, by <span class="sc">J. J. Thomas</span>; 300 accurate - figures, revised and enlarged, muslin, 421 pp., 12mo.</td> - <td class="c2">1 25</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c1-4"><b>THE DAIRYMAN'S MANUAL</b>,</td> - <td class="c2"></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c1-3">A complete Guide for the American Dairyman, by <span class="sc">G. - Evans</span>, 235 pp., 8vo.</td> - <td class="c2">84</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c1-4"><b>THE AMERICAN FARMER</b>,</td> - <td class="c2"></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c1-3">Or, Home in the Country, a book for Rainy Days and Winter Evenings, - by <span class="sc">J. L. Blake</span>, D. D., 23 illustrations, muslin, 460 pp., 12mo.</td> - <td class="c2">1 25</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c1-4"><b>ROGERS' SCIENTIFIC AGRICULTURE</b>,</td> - <td class="c2"></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c1-3">Muslin or sheep, 12mo.</td> - <td class="c2">75</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c1-4"><b>AMERICAN LADY'S SYSTEM OF COOKERY</b>,</td> - <td class="c2"></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c1-3">Comprising every variety of information for ordinary and holiday occasions, - with Rules for Carving, by Mrs. <span class="sc">T. J. Crowen</span>, illustrated, muslin, - 454 pp., 12mo.</td> - <td class="c2">1 25</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c1-4"><b>ROBBINS' PRODUCE RECKONER</b>, muslin, 118 pp., 16mo., per dozen,</td> - <td class="c2">6 00</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c1-4"><b>WHAT I SAW IN NEW-YORK</b>,</td> - <td class="c2"></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c1-3">Or, a Bird's-eye View of City Life, by <span class="sc">J. H. Ross</span>, - M. D., frontispiece, muslin, 326 pp., 12mo. </td> - <td class="c2">1 00</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c1-4"><b>FREMONT'S EXPLORING EXPEDITION</b>,</td> - <td class="c2"></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c1-3">To the Rocky Mountains, Oregon and California, with additional "El Dorado" - matter; portrait, muslin, 456 pp., 12mo.</td> - <td class="c2">1 25</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c1-4"><b>THE ARCTIC REGIONS</b>,</td> - <td class="c2"></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c1-3">Being an Account of the Exploring Expeditions of Ross, Franklin, Parry, - Back, McClure, and others, with the English and American Expeditions in search of Sir John - Franklin, illustrated, muslin, 396 pp., 12mo.</td> - <td class="c2">1 25</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c1-4"><b>GREAT MEN AND GREAT EVENTS IN HISTORY</b>,</td> - <td class="c2"></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c1-3">From the Earliest Period to the Present Time, by <span class="sc">John - Frost</span>, LL. D., 800 illustrations, muslin, 832 pp, 8vo.,</td> - <td class="c2">2 50</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c1"><span class="sc">The Same</span>—embossed morocco, marble edge,</td> - <td class="c2">3 00</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c1-4"><b>ANTIQUITIES OF THE STATE OF NEW-YORK</b>,</td> - <td class="c2"></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c1-3">With an Appendix on the Antiquities of the West, by Hon. <span class="sc">E. - G. Squier</span>, embellished with nearly 100 engravings, small 8vo.</td> - <td class="c2">2 00</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c1-4"><b>THE PHELPS AND GORHAM PURCHASE</b>,</td> - <td class="c2"></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c1-3">To which is added a Supplement, containing the History of Ontario, Wayne, - Livingston, Yates and Allegany Counties, by <span class="sc">O. Turner</span>, author of - "The Holland Purchase," 588 pp., 8vo.,</td> - <td class="c2">2 00</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c1-4"><b>HISTORY OF THE WAR WITH MEXICO</b>,</td> - <td class="c2"></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c1-3">From the commencement of hostilities with the United States, to the - ratification of peace—embracing detailed accounts of the brilliant achievements - of Generals Taylor, Scott, Worth, Twiggs, Kearney and others, by <span class="sc">John S. - Jenkins</span>, 20 illustrations, muslin, 506 pp., large 12mo., </td> - <td class="c2">1 50</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c1"><span class="sc">The Same</span>—octavo edition, embossed morocco, marble edge, - 526 pp.,</td> - <td class="c2">2 00</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c1-4"><b>HISTORY OF THE MORMONS</b>,</td> - <td class="c2"></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c1-3">Or, Latter Day Saints, with a Memoir of Joe Smith, the "American Mahomet," - 12 illustrations, muslin, 399 pp., 12mo.,</td> - <td class="c2">1 25</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c1-4"><b>HISTORY AND CONDITION OF OREGON</b>,</td> - <td class="c2"></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c1-3">Including a Voyage round the World, by Rev. <span class="sc">G. Hines</span> - of the Oregon Mission, muslin, 437 pp., 12mo.</td> - <td class="c2">1 25</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c1-4"><b>FROST'S PICTORIAL HISTORY OF CALIFORNIA</b>,</td> - <td class="c2"></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c1-3">From the period of the Conquest by Spain, to the formation of a State; - containing an account of the Gold Mines, Resources, and Adventures among the Miners, etc.; - also Advice to Emigrants: colored frontispiece and other illustrations, muslin, 508 pp., - 12mo. </td> - <td class="c2">1 50</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c1-4"><b>SIDNEY'S HISTORY OF AUSTRALIA,</b></td> - <td class="c2"></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c1-3">The Three Colonies of Australia, New South Wales, Victoria, South Australia, - their Pastures, Copper Mines and Gold Fields, by <span class="sc">Samuel Sidney</span>, - 10 illustrations, muslin, 408 pp., 12mo.</td> - <td class="c2">1 25</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c1-4"><b>PICTORIAL FAMILY ENCYCLOPEDIA</b>,</td> - <td class="c2"></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c1-3">Of History, Biography and Travels, comprising prominent Events in the - History of the World, Biographies of Eminent Men, and interesting Accounts of Distinguished - Travelers, by <span class="sc">John Frost</span>, LL. D., 360 illustrations, muslin, - 648 pp., 8vo.</td> - <td class="c2">2 00</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c1"><span class="sc">The Same</span>—embossed morocco, marble edges,</td> - <td class="c2">2 50</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c1-4">*<b>TWELVE YEARS A SLAVE</b>,</td> - <td class="c2"></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c1-3">The Narrative of <span class="sc">Solomon Northup</span>, a citizen of - New-York kidnapped in Washington City in 1841, and rescued in 1853, from a Cotton - Plantation near the Red River, in Louisiana, 7 illustrations, muslin, 336 pp., 12mo. </td> - <td class="c2">1 00</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c1-4">*<b>WILD SCENES OF A HUNTER'S LIFE</b>,</td> - <td class="c2"></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c1-3">Including Cummings' Adventures among the Lions, Elephants and other - wild Animals of Africa, by <span class="sc">John Frost</span>, LL. D., with 8 colored and - 300 letter-press illustrations, muslin, 467 pp., 12mo.</td> - <td class="c2">1 50</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c1-4"><b>LIFE ON THE PLAINS</b>,</td> - <td class="c2"></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c1-3">And among the Diggings, being Scenes and Adventures of an Overland - Journey to California, with particular Incidents of the Route, Sufferings of Emigrants, - Indian Tribes, &c., by <span class="sc">A. Delano</span>, illustrated, 384 pp., - 12mo.</td> - <td class="c2">1 25</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c1-4"><b>THE AUSTRALIAN CAPTIVE</b>,</td> - <td class="c2"></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c1-3">Or, Fifteen Years' Adventures of William Jackman, including his Residence - among the Cannibals of Nuyts' Land, with portraits and other illustrations, - edited by Rev. <span class="sc">I. Chamberlain</span>, muslin, 392 pp., 12mo. </td> - <td class="c2">1 25</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c1-4"><b>FRONTIER LIFE</b>,</td> - <td class="c2"></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c1-3">Or Scenes and Adventures in the South-west, by <span class="sc">F. - Hardman</span>, illustrated, muslin, 376 pp., 12mo.</td> - <td class="c2">1 25</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c1-4"><b>THRILLING ADVENTURES</b>,</td> - <td class="c2"></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c1-3">By Land and Sea, being remarkable Facts from Authentic Sources, edited - by <span class="sc">J. O. Brayman</span>, illustrated, muslin, 504 pp., 12mo.</td> - <td class="c2">1 25</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c1-4"><b>DARING DEEDS OF AMERICAN HEROES</b>,</td> - <td class="c2"></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c1-3">With Biographical Sketches, by <span class="sc">J. O. Brayman</span>, - illustrated, 12mo. 450 pp.</td> - <td class="c2">1 25</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c1-4"><b>LIFE AT THE SOUTH</b>,</td> - <td class="c2"></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c1-3">Being Narratives, Scenes, and Incidents in Slave Life, by <span class="sc">W. - L. G. Smith</span>, illustrated, muslin, 519 pp., 12mo.</td> - <td class="c2">1 25</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c1-4"><b>BORDER WARS OF THE WEST</b>,</td> - <td class="c2"></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c1-3">Comprising the Frontier Wars of Pennsylvania, Virginia, Kentucky, Ohio, - Indiana, Illinois, Tennessee and Wisconsin, and embracing the Individual - Adventures among the Indians, and Exploits of Boone, Kenton, Clark, Logan, and other - Border Heroes of the West, by <span class="sc">Professor Frost</span>, 300 illustrations, - muslin, 608 pp., muslin, 8vo.</td> - <td class="c2">2 50</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c1-4"><b>WESTERN SCENES</b>,</td> - <td class="c2"></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c1-3">And Reminiscences, together with thrilling Legends and Traditions of the - Red Man of the Forest, illustrated, muslin, 8vo.</td> - <td class="c2">2 00</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c1-4"><b>GIFT BOOK FOR YOUNG MEN</b>,</td> - <td class="c2"></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c1-3">Or Familiar Letters on Self-knowledge, Self-education, Female Society, - Marriage, &c., by Dr. <span class="sc">Wm. A. Alcott</span>, frontispiece, muslin, - 312 pp., 12mo. </td> - <td class="c2">84</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c1"><span class="sc">The Same</span>—muslin, gilt edges and full gilt sides,</td> - <td class="c2">1 50</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c1-4"><b>GIFT BOOK FOR YOUNG LADIES</b>,</td> - <td class="c2"></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c1-3">Or Woman's Mission; being Familiar Letters to a Young Lady on her - Amusements, Employments, Studies, Acquaintances, male and female, Friendships, &c., - by Dr. <span class="sc">Wm. A. Alcott</span>, frontispiece on steel, muslin, - 307 pp., 12mo.</td> - <td class="c2">84</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c1"><span class="sc">The Same</span>—muslin, gilt edges and full gilt sides,</td> - <td class="c2">1 50</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c1-4"><b>YOUNG MAN'S BOOK</b>,</td> - <td class="c2"></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c1-3">Or, Self-Education, by Rev. <span class="sc">Wm. Hosmer</span>, frontispiece - on steel, muslin, 291 pp., 12mo.</td> - <td class="c2">84</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c1"><span class="sc">The Same</span>—muslin, gilt edges and full gilt sides,</td> - <td class="c2">1 50</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c1-4"><b>YOUNG LADY'S BOOK</b>,</td> - <td class="c2"></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c1-3">Or, Principles of Female Education, by Rev. <span class="sc">Wm. - Hosmer</span>, frontispiece on steel, muslin, 301 pp., 12mo.</td> - <td class="c2">84</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c1"><span class="sc">The Same</span>—muslin, gilt edges and full gilt sides,</td> - <td class="c2">1 50</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c1-4"><b>GOLDEN STEPS FOR THE YOUNG</b>,</td> - <td class="c2"></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c1-3">To Usefulness, Respectability and Happiness, by <span class="sc">John Mather - Austin</span>, author of "Voice to Youth," frontispiece on steel, muslin, 243 pp., - 12mo.</td> - <td class="c2">84</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c1"><span class="sc">The Same</span>—muslin, gilt edges and full gilt sides,</td> - <td class="c2">1 50</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c1-4"><b>VOICE TO THE YOUNG</b>,</td> - <td class="c2"></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c1-3">Or, Lectures for the Times, by <span class="sc">W. W. Patton</span>, - muslin, 213 pp., 12mo.</td> - <td class="c2">75</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c1-4"><b>THE YOUTH'S BOOK OF GEMS</b>,</td> - <td class="c2"></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c1-3">By <span class="sc">F. C. Woodworth</span>, with 100 illustrations, - muslin, 386 pp., 8vo.</td> - <td class="c2">1 25</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c1-4"><b>THE STRING OF PEARLS</b>,</td> - <td class="c2"></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c1-3">For Boys and Girls, by <span class="sc">T. S. Arthur</span> and - <span class="sc">F. C. Woodworth</span>, with many illustrations, muslin, 288 pp., - 16mo.</td> - <td class="c2">84</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c1-4"><b>STORIES ABOUT BIRDS</b>,</td> - <td class="c2"></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c1-3">By <span class="sc">F. C. Woodworth</span>, with illustrative engravings, - muslin, 336 pp., 16mo.</td> - <td class="c2">84</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c1-4"><b>STORIES ABOUT ANIMALS</b>,</td> - <td class="c2"></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c1-3">By <span class="sc">F. C. Woodworth</span>, with illustrative engravings, - muslin, 336 pp., 16mo.</td> - <td class="c2">84</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c1-4"><b>WONDERS OF THE INSECT WORLD</b>,</td> - <td class="c2"></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="c1-3">By <span class="sc">F. C. Woodworth</span>, with illustrative engravings, - muslin, 336 pp., 16mo.</td> - <td class="c2">84</td> - </tr> -</table> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="transnote"> - -<h2>Transcriber's Note:</h2> - -<ul> - <li>Minor typographical errors have been corrected without note.</li> - <li>Punctuation and spelling were made consistent when a predominant - form was found in this book; otherwise they were not changed.</li> - <li>Ambiguous hyphens at the ends of lines were retained.</li> - <li>Footnotes were moved to the end of the book and numbered in one - continuous sequence.</li> - <li>Other notes: - <ul> - <li>p. 26: be at changed to bear. (...that parish must bear the cost....)</li> - <li>p. 29: Frith → Firth. (Firth of Forth.)</li> - <li>p. 84: Chesterle → Chester le. (Chester le Street.)</li> - <li>p. 336: an → on. (I could sit my eyes on.)</li> - </ul> - </li> -</ul> -</div> - - - - - - - -<pre> - - - - - -End of Project Gutenberg's The White Slaves of England, by John C. 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