Tales of the Factories Respectfully inscribed to Mr. Sadler. By the Authoress of "Ellen Fitzarthur" [etc.] [i.e. by C. A. Bowles] |
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THE GRANDMOTHER'S TALE. |
 | Tales of the Factories |  |
16
THE GRANDMOTHER'S TALE.
“Take heed that ye despise not one of these little ones.”
St Matthew, xviii. 10.
St Matthew, xviii. 10.
“Up now, my little Margaret!
Up! and we'll go together
With this warm shawl for Granny Jones;
I warrant me her poor old bones
Ache sore this winter weather.
Up! and we'll go together
With this warm shawl for Granny Jones;
I warrant me her poor old bones
Ache sore this winter weather.
“Fold up your work. Impatient child!
Not so—but smooth and neat.
Well, Margaret! well! 'tis almost done,
This task you thought an endless one;
And liberty by labour won
Will now be doubly sweet.”
Not so—but smooth and neat.
Well, Margaret! well! 'tis almost done,
This task you thought an endless one;
And liberty by labour won
Will now be doubly sweet.”
17
“But, dear Mamma, I can't bear work,
Nor tasks, nor sitting still;
I often think how happier far
Than I poor cottage children are,
Who do just what they will.”
Nor tasks, nor sitting still;
I often think how happier far
Than I poor cottage children are,
Who do just what they will.”
“Rash child! pray God forgive that thought,
In ignorance exprest;
You little know what they endure
Too oft, those children of the poor,
Whose lot you think so blest.
In ignorance exprest;
You little know what they endure
Too oft, those children of the poor,
Whose lot you think so blest.
“But come, 'tis almost half past twelve,
And we've no time to lose:
Bid Susan wrap you up to-day
In all your warmest things; and, stay,
Put on your thickest shoes.
And we've no time to lose:
Bid Susan wrap you up to-day
In all your warmest things; and, stay,
Put on your thickest shoes.
“Now for it then—But what a swing
Was that you gave the gate!
Hop! step! and jump! Now do for once.
Though you do long to be a dunce,
Walk by my side sedate—
Was that you gave the gate!
Hop! step! and jump! Now do for once.
Though you do long to be a dunce,
Walk by my side sedate—
18
“Yes—for two minutes—and she's off!
Chasing a wither'd leaf—
My child! must that light happy heart
One day sustain its painful part
Of mortal care and grief?”
Chasing a wither'd leaf—
My child! must that light happy heart
One day sustain its painful part
Of mortal care and grief?”
“What's that at Granny Jones's door?
A man and cart—and see!
They're lifting something out. Oh, dear!
'Tis some one very sick, I fear;
A child—whose can it be?”
A man and cart—and see!
They're lifting something out. Oh, dear!
'Tis some one very sick, I fear;
A child—whose can it be?”
“Why, what's the matter, Granny Jones,
You're making such ado?
Nay, you can't lift that poor sick thing.
Whose is it? wherefore do they bring
The helpless charge to you?”
You're making such ado?
Nay, you can't lift that poor sick thing.
Whose is it? wherefore do they bring
The helpless charge to you?”
“Oh, lady! 'tis my daughter's child:
My poor dead Mary's own.
Four helpless little ones she left
Of every earthly stay bereft
In this hard world alone.
My poor dead Mary's own.
Four helpless little ones she left
Of every earthly stay bereft
In this hard world alone.
19
“Their father gone, and past all work
A poor old creature I—
The parish kept them for a while,
Then sent them many a weary mile,
To some great Factory.
A poor old creature I—
The parish kept them for a while,
Then sent them many a weary mile,
To some great Factory.
“My mind misgave me when they sent
My pretty lambs away;
But I was helpless, poor, and old,
And should be grateful, I was told,
That so well off were they.
My pretty lambs away;
But I was helpless, poor, and old,
And should be grateful, I was told,
That so well off were they.
“Sure of kind usage, wholesome food,
And raiment of the best;
And easy work, and chastening mild,
Unharmful to a tender child,
And time for play and rest.
And raiment of the best;
And easy work, and chastening mild,
Unharmful to a tender child,
And time for play and rest.
“And oh! what most I had at heart—
My babes, they promised me,
Should still be kept on Sabbath-days
Constant to church, and from bad ways,
And evil company.
My babes, they promised me,
Should still be kept on Sabbath-days
Constant to church, and from bad ways,
And evil company.
20
“The eldest, Bell and Jean, were twins,
And they were nine years old;
Jemmy was eight, and this poor lamb,
My little loving Miriam,
But only six, just told.
And they were nine years old;
Jemmy was eight, and this poor lamb,
My little loving Miriam,
But only six, just told.
“Well! well! they took 'em all away—
Six years agone 'twill be
Come next Shrove Tuesday; and since then
They've still kept on, those cruel men!
Falsely deceiving me;
Six years agone 'twill be
Come next Shrove Tuesday; and since then
They've still kept on, those cruel men!
Falsely deceiving me;
“Telling me still from time to time,
When I for tidings prayed,
That all my precious ones were well,
Even after Jem and Isabel
Were in the churchyard laid.
When I for tidings prayed,
That all my precious ones were well,
Even after Jem and Isabel
Were in the churchyard laid.
“Dear heart! to think what cruel wrongs
Those pretty creatures bore!
I know all now; for neighbour Prince
Has been to that bad place, and since
Has told me, o'er and o'er,
Those pretty creatures bore!
I know all now; for neighbour Prince
Has been to that bad place, and since
Has told me, o'er and o'er,
21
“How in those dreadful Factories
The young small things they keep
At work all day, and half the night,
Aye, hours and hours by candle-light;
And if they drop asleep,
The young small things they keep
At work all day, and half the night,
Aye, hours and hours by candle-light;
And if they drop asleep,
“Or wink, or flag, they're strapped and wealed,
And forced to keep on—on—
Till wellnigh sight and sense they lose:
Oh, Christ! that Christian men should use
The babes thou lovest so!
And forced to keep on—on—
Till wellnigh sight and sense they lose:
Oh, Christ! that Christian men should use
The babes thou lovest so!
“Can those poor Blacks they tell about
Be treated half so bad,
Whose taskmasters are called accurst?—
And yet I have not told the worst—
Well, lady! Isabel went first,
And then the little lad.
Be treated half so bad,
Whose taskmasters are called accurst?—
And yet I have not told the worst—
Well, lady! Isabel went first,
And then the little lad.
“No wonder they fell sick and died—
The very breath they drew
With dust and steam was thick and rank;
So they (the tenderest) first sank,
And there remained but two,
The very breath they drew
With dust and steam was thick and rank;
So they (the tenderest) first sank,
And there remained but two,
22
“Miriam and Jeanie—a stout lass
Was she—our bonny Jean!
And held out bravely, till one day,
('Twas but a moment's work they say,
Scarcely a moment's pain,)
Was she—our bonny Jean!
And held out bravely, till one day,
('Twas but a moment's work they say,
Scarcely a moment's pain,)
“By some great shaft her arm was caught—
Only one scream she gave,
And the wheel whirl'd her round and round,
They told me, with a crunching sound—
Oh! to my very grave
Only one scream she gave,
And the wheel whirl'd her round and round,
They told me, with a crunching sound—
Oh! to my very grave
“That sound, and Jeanie's dying scream,
Will go with me.—Dear heart!
Sweet little lady! do you cry
At hearing my sad history?
I've told it but in part.
Will go with me.—Dear heart!
Sweet little lady! do you cry
At hearing my sad history?
I've told it but in part.
“Think, little Miss! for a young child
How hard it must have been—
A child like you, as I may say,
To be kept in the live-long day,
Aye—sixteen mortal hours!—no play,
And scarce a rest between—
How hard it must have been—
A child like you, as I may say,
To be kept in the live-long day,
Aye—sixteen mortal hours!—no play,
And scarce a rest between—
23
“And scarce for meals a scant half hour,
Nor always that—oh! no—
When trade is stirring, they must ply
Their tasks all meal-time, hurriedly
Snatching their morsel cold and dry
While pacing to and fro.
Nor always that—oh! no—
When trade is stirring, they must ply
Their tasks all meal-time, hurriedly
Snatching their morsel cold and dry
While pacing to and fro.
“And then, poor babes! they drop asleep
Without a prayer at night—
Worn fairly out—by scores to lie,
Huddled like brutes in one close stye,
Till waked, by wakeful misery,
Before the earliest light.
Without a prayer at night—
Worn fairly out—by scores to lie,
Huddled like brutes in one close stye,
Till waked, by wakeful misery,
Before the earliest light.
“The inside of God's holy house
Those young ones never see.
Not theirs the sin; but oh! that thought,
When neighbour Prince the tidings brought,
Was worst of all to me.
Those young ones never see.
Not theirs the sin; but oh! that thought,
When neighbour Prince the tidings brought,
Was worst of all to me.
“But still my little Miriam lived,
‘Though going fast,’ he said;
‘Still drove to work—and so will be
Till the last minute, dame!’ says he;
‘Aye, till she drops down dead’—
‘Though going fast,’ he said;
‘Still drove to work—and so will be
Till the last minute, dame!’ says he;
‘Aye, till she drops down dead’—
24
“Oh! that was more than I could bear;
So crawling painfully,
I reached the Parish board, and prayed
They'd fetch me back my little maid,
To die at home with me.
So crawling painfully,
I reached the Parish board, and prayed
They'd fetch me back my little maid,
To die at home with me.
“I prayed them on my bended knees,
But all in vain—till one
('Twas Farmer Williams) took my part,
And said, (God bless his dear kind heart!)
‘We'll have her home, dame! in my cart,
By Tuesday's set of sun.’
But all in vain—till one
('Twas Farmer Williams) took my part,
And said, (God bless his dear kind heart!)
‘We'll have her home, dame! in my cart,
By Tuesday's set of sun.’
“He kept his word. God bless him for't!
My child's come home to die.
Look, Lady! where so pale she's laid—
Dropt off asleep—my merry maid,
Whose rosy cheeks, the folks all said,
It did one good to see.
My child's come home to die.
Look, Lady! where so pale she's laid—
Dropt off asleep—my merry maid,
Whose rosy cheeks, the folks all said,
It did one good to see.
“Look! how her little knees are bowed,
And wasted every limb!
Well, here at least my lamb may rest,
Till taken to her Saviour's breast,
To dwell in Heaven with Him.
And wasted every limb!
Well, here at least my lamb may rest,
Till taken to her Saviour's breast,
To dwell in Heaven with Him.
25
“Hark! how she's moaning in her sleep,
And starts, and wakes—See! see!”
“Was that the bell? Oh, dear! oh, dear!”
“Hush! hush, my babe! no bell you hear—
You'll never, never more go near
That dreadful Factory.”
And starts, and wakes—See! see!”
“Was that the bell? Oh, dear! oh, dear!”
“Hush! hush, my babe! no bell you hear—
You'll never, never more go near
That dreadful Factory.”
“She's fast again. Well, Granny! now
We must be gone. Poor thing!
I'll send you down some strength'ning food,
And cordials that may do her good,
And Marg'ret here shall bring—
We must be gone. Poor thing!
I'll send you down some strength'ning food,
And cordials that may do her good,
And Marg'ret here shall bring—
“What! my wild Marg'ret sobbing still?
Ah! now, dear child, you know
And feel how wrong and foolishly,
In wilful mood you spoke to me
Not quite an hour ago.
Ah! now, dear child, you know
And feel how wrong and foolishly,
In wilful mood you spoke to me
Not quite an hour ago.
“Now do you envy?”—“Oh, Mamma!”
“Well, well, my child! I see
You feel the lesson of this day;
To-night, before your slumbers, pray
It may engraven be
“Well, well, my child! I see
You feel the lesson of this day;
To-night, before your slumbers, pray
It may engraven be
26
“On that young heart; that gratefully
Your lot you may compare
With that of thousands of your kind,
To whom the All-wise Unerring Mind
Hath for their portion here assigned
Privation, pain, and care.
Your lot you may compare
With that of thousands of your kind,
To whom the All-wise Unerring Mind
Hath for their portion here assigned
Privation, pain, and care.
“And now, good Granny! fare ye well—
We'll bring you down to-morrow
Warm flannels, and a little wine,
For that poor babe. The hand Divine
Alone can ease your sorrow.”
We'll bring you down to-morrow
Warm flannels, and a little wine,
For that poor babe. The hand Divine
Alone can ease your sorrow.”
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