Milling around Manchester's Quarry Bank Mill

Waiting for a bus, at the best of times, is pretty grim; waiting outside a countryside mill, with no main road in sight, and the bones of my fingers beginning to freeze and burn, is dire! (oh so I felt). Bounding from tree branches to the bus stop roof, the squirrels seemed to be winning at a game of cat and mouse with the watchful black crows above. While I, kicking stones in the pebbly carpark, continued with the waiting game.

Everyone I had asked about the Quarry Bank Mill, (the attraction in Mancheser I was here to see), had visited it whilst at school. I was expecting then to see neat lines of school children filing through the Mill. When I arrived at about 2:45pm however, I was surprised to find hardly anyone there and the ticket office locked.

As early as the sun recedes here in winter so too it appears does the Quarry Bank Milll; the last tour is at 2:30pm.

Despite the obviously bolted door, I made a show to try open it, and succeeded in coaxing 'Brian' over to assist me. After telling him I'd travelled from Dubai that morning he graciously let me into the Mill for a mini-private tour and then allowed me to walk the rest of the historical National Trust site.

Brian showed me the office of the Mill and the little worker's wage cups; they would've recieved these each week through a hole in the office wall. He also enlightened me on the phrase "being carpeted". Being called to the office, the only arena with a fine red rug, was typically akin to being called in for a reprimand. I can just imagine the workers lingering in the dark hallways of the 1784 Mill saying, "that Jones' fellla - he's been carpeted again!" 

An ousted family member

A wall-to-wall portrait painting of the founding Greg family is the feature of the adjoining ' information'  room which also serves to mark the beginning of the Mill walk. Missing in the family line-up is one of the Greg daughters. Brian alludes to the mysterious absence with the possibility of a family secret or family shame. I wish I'd had more time to find out!

Working at the Mill

Walking through the Mill I am struck by all types of awe-inspiring aparatus. The magnificent machinery clutters all corners of the Mill and I 'm pleased to see one chugging, cotton-making machine in action. Further along I see the cantankerous spinner with so many strings and spikes it looks like the inside of a gigantic grand piano. I proudly leave with my own bobbin from Saleem and some historical food for thought.

Photos here show mill workers with no shoes on; there's a placard outlining the wages for childern under 13; and many pictures depict the overall harsh working conditions they had to contend with.

Back outside where it is 2 degrees, I'm still waiting for bus number 200. The trees around are stark and scraggly - I wonder if the brambles too, twist and contort relentlessly over winter, trying to edge closer to the sun. But with the sun now settling over the Cheshire countryside and Monet-toned tints high-lighting the landscape, the trees look warm in yellow ochre and violet.
The bus arrives and I leave the Mill to its dusk tranquility, (eager to return again for a longer tour).

Next up for Machester, Lyme House  - where maybe I'll meet my own Mr Darcy... 

(Trip from Jan 2010)

http://www.nationaltrust.org.uk/main/w-quarrybankmillandstyalestate