Frances
Trollope, the daughter
of a clergyman, was born in Hampshire in 1780. When her husband's
business failed, Trollope, who was now fifty-two, began writing books.
Her novels were very popular and it was not long before she was able
to pay off her husband's debts. Trollope believed that novels should
deal with important social issues. Her novel, Jonathan
Jefferson Whitlaw, was about the evils of slavery,
and The Vicar of Wrexhill tackled
the subject of church corruption.
In 1839 Trollope became involved in the campaign against the employment
of children in factories. After visiting several factories in
Manchester and Bradford,
Trollope wrote Michael Armstrong, the Factory
Boy. Francis Trollope was severely criticised for writing about
such "vulgar... and low-bred people". One critic claimed
that the novel encouraged people to hate factory owners and suggested
that Trollope should be sent to prison for writing such a dangerous
book.
Of her novels, The Widow Barnaby
and The Widow Married were the
most successful. By the time Frances Trollope
died in 1863, she had written forty books. Her son Anthony Trollope
(1815-1882) was also a successful novelist.
Child
Labour Debate Activity (International School of Toulouse)
Child
Labour Simulation (Spartacus Educational)
(1)
Frances Trollope, Michael Armstrong,
the Factory Boy (1840)
A
little girl about seven years old, who job as scavenger, was to collect
incessantly from the factory floor, the flying fragments of cotton
that might impede the work... while the hissing machinery passed over
her, and when this is skillfully done, and the head, body, and the
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.
(2)
Frances
Trollope, Michael Armstrong, the Factory
Boy (1840)
In
the room they entered, the dirty, ragged miserable crew, were all
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. Lean and distorted limbs - sallow and sunken cheeks
- dim hollow eyes... a look of hideous premature old age.
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