Mills and Factories Fred Dibnah's Industrial Age

When we've finished with the boiler, I have to blow it down

to get rid of the sediment in the bottom.

It reminds me of the mills in Bolton when I was a boy.

Every Friday about half past five,

they would blow down the boilers like this.

When you're a kid, it's quite frightening.

There were once 200 spinning mills in Bolton, now there's only one.

And that's propelled by electricity.

One of the earliest recollections that I have as a small boy

is the many chimney stacks that stood up round Burnden Park,

and the smoke drifting out the tops of them. To me, it were romantic.

Unhealthy, but romantic.

Up to '60s, the textile industry was a major employer.

In a Lancashire town like Burnley,

there were more weaving looms than people.

Many mill owners became wealthy men.

On a winter's night, where they had a night shift on in a big mill,

you'd see hundreds of yards of line shafting, whirring round

like chromium plates.

And the noise!

Bolton was famous for fine spinning.

But we're in East Lancashire, and this is Queen Street Mill in Burnley.

They were famous for weaving. This is a great weaving shed.

If you want to experience what it's like in a steam-driven weaving shed,

this, without a doubt, is the place to come.

-Good morning, Evelyn.

-Morning.

-It's all quiet here this morning.

-Yes, it is.

-When that big steam engine starts up the racket starts, doesn't it?

-Yes.

-You've had this job all your life. When did you start?

-When I were 14.

You'd to work,

but hard work don't kill nobody, does it?

I thought they were happy days.

Were you responsible for your own drive?

We'd go for the tackler, if your strap broke.

'They were the men who looked after the machines.'

We had a tackler, little Joe.

You know, he were a real good tackler.

I'd say to him, "Here Joe. Have a toffee."

It would buck him up a bit.

These are a bit violent when they're going!

It hit me on t'elbow, and I'm ready for going when tackler saw me,

threw me over his shoulder and took me out.

-Have you ever been married?

-No.

-You've never been married?

-I've been married three times!

-Have you?

-Oh, dear! You're greedy for punishment!

-Yeah, I am!

How long did it take you to learn when you started?

Eight weeks, and I were gormless!

Time went on, and the years went on,

-and I started learning people meself.

-Yeah.

Her what learnt me said,

"Evelyn, I never thought you'd learn someone to weave - you were gormless!"

In an electrically driven weaving shed,

there's only the electric motors and the looms making the racket.

Here, we've already got tons of racket,

from the bevel gears from the main shaft driven by the steam engine,

driving all these line shaftings and all the clack of the belts.

Should imagine being, like, 14 years old, arriving here on Monday morning,

at half past seven, and being frightened to bloody death!

It's unbelievably violent!

And, of course, there's only two looms working

at this moment in time.

When all these machines were running

the decibels must've been unbelievable! God knows!

One day, I were mending a chimney and the engine at the mill...

this engine were in a weaving shed similar to this.

You've heard how these gears roar,

well, they repaired the engine, it's late at night, and they turn it on.

Just to see if everything works.

All of a sudden, most of the operatives appear.

Their lives were ruled by the noise of the gearing and the engine.

When the engines started they thought it was seven o'clock.

In fact it was three in the morning!

They appeared for work at three in the morning!

The man who keeps the machinery running is Alwyn.

Like all engine drivers, he needs a good ear in case anything goes wrong.

This pipe brings the steam from the boilers,

to, first of all, the high pressure cylinder.

This is the piston rod that pushes the cross head -

that bit there - which, in turn, pushes the connecting rod.

This here, is the big end. This is the interesting bit.

This lubricator.

They couldn't afford to stop the engine

so they needed some way to get oil to it.

This fascinating thing, in t'middle,

this is like a banjo lubricator.

The oil runs down into there,

and then, by centrifugal force, is forced round into the big end.

When I was young they fascinated me.

I never worked out how they worked, when I were a little lad.

Let's look at the boilers where all the steam's made

to keep this monster going!

-Hiya, Brian!

-Hello, Fred!

-Stoking up?

-Yes.

-Keep that big wheel going round!

When I was young there were hundreds of these. Three on every street.

There's hardly any left!

When you think, when this was working on 100lb per square inch,

every square inch of this had 100lb trying to get out.

A beer can will hold about 60lbs, so they tell me.

Looking at that, you'd think you'd be safe for ever.

That's seven-eighths of an inch thick, and all,

but they still manage to blow up.

One of the main failures were the collapsing of the flue by water.

When the water disappeared off the glass,

and the fire tube got red-hot, they came down like a kidney shape.

And, of course, it were a bit frightening!

They didn't blow up, but the fire beater got sacked!

Anyway, the main reason for my visit is, Alwyn upstairs wants more steam.

He wants that big wheel to go round faster.

-You want a shovel then?

-I'll put a bit on!

-I'll find a shovel.

-I'll open the door.

-There you go.

-It's a nice one, in't it?

-Does it go up that slit?

-In there, that's it.

Aluminium shovel, this! It's melting!

People often ask, "Why do they need big chimneys?"

There's a simple answer, it's called draught.

We've just come from the boiler house, and you saw how ferociously the fires burn in the furnaces.

That is, of course, the need for the tall chimney.

Nowadays, modern chimneys have fans and things

but they don't burn anything, only a bit of oil.

This is the mill lodge.

The water from the condenser... and, of course, the cooling water, came into here.

The water for the boilers is taken from here.

I recall one encounter, with me and my friend Alan.

We decided to make diving suits and see what it were like on the bottom.

We got a crisps tin and a piece of tubing that would stretch round the tin,

so the tube would grip round your neck.

We soldered on some copper piping, with a hose pipe and a lump of cork,

and a window in front. First of all, we put that in.

We decided to try it out at the swimming baths

but they wouldn't let us in!

So, we tried it out in the mill lodge.

It were funny because Alan had to hold my head down.

There was so much air inside it. It wouldn't have worked.

You couldn't have gone under water, you'd have floated along the surface with so much air inside the thing.

This is why there were so many mills here -

cotton spinning needs a damp climate, and we get lots of rain.

But back in the 18th century, there was another important factor

which influenced where mills were built.

Fast-flowing rivers turned water wheels round

that provided the power to drive the mill machinery.

New Lanark is on the banks of the River Clyde,

about 20 miles from Glasgow.

It's one of the best preserved early mills.

It became famous

because of the way Robert Owen, one of its owners,

looked after his workers.

He ensured they had a decent standard of living.

I can see why Mr Owen and Mr Dale

picked this spot in New Lanark to build this place.

Number one, because of the water, but it's also very beautiful.

I don't think I'd have liked to work upstairs,

behind me, on the top floor.

But, I wouldn't have minded being a maintenance man.

I imagine that would've been very pleasurable.

If I'd been around at the time,

these are the types of machines I'd be maintaining.

If you want to see some of the oldest textile machinery,

where better to come than Lancashire?

This is the Helmshore textile museum,

where they've a huge collection of all sorts of things.

This is one of Richard Arkwright's water frames.

It were called a water frame, it were actually a spinning frame driven by a water wheel.

The thing is, some of the technology on it, like these fluted rollers,

it's still used today in the most modern textile spinning machinery.

Richard Arkwright, he were born in Preston and lived in Bolton.

He had a barber's, he made wigs.

Nobody knows how he got involved in the textile industry.

Arkwright built a factory in Derbyshire, powered by water, to house these machines.

He is really regarded as the father of the factory system.

This place, originally, was a wool finishing mill.

These are called fulling stocks.

They put the raw material,

the cloth, in there. This machine beat it for about eight hours.

It came out

with a wonderful felt-like finish. You'd think, after eight hours,

it'd have ruined it, been bashed to pieces - not so.

Lovely texture. Used for making horse blankets out of.

This machine, made in 1849,

and the whole place, is driven by the water wheel in the background.

It was the quality of the cotton made here,

that made Lancashire famous throughout the world.

It was like this until the '60s, when the cotton market collapsed

with foreign competition and new synthetic fibres appearing.

This was the death knell of the cotton industry proper.

The mills started to close down and the demolition men moved in.

When they were closing, many scrap men had Rolls-Royces.

It was so sad. They smashed windows

and threw the machinery out before they loaded it into their trucks.

This place is rather sad to me

because when I were a young man, once, standing here,

there were eight big spinning mills all run by one family.

God knows how many thousand horsepower of steam engines!

Six steam engines drove it all.

I used to mend the chimney at the tail end of it. It's all a bit sad.

But, here, in this building is a fine body of men,

who have spent the last 30 years restoring what they could save

from the cotton mills of Lancashire.

I think I'll nip inside and see how they are doing.

This to me is one of the finest collections

of big mill engines in existence.

All of them have been dismantled and brought here

by this dedicated bunch of lads and re-erected in all their splendour.

They've got every conceivable different style of steam engine here.

This lot have been at it for over 30 years. They got it all finished once

then they had to take all the engines to pieces and start again

because the supermarket wanted the original site that they were on.

Watch it doesn't catch.

-Hello, Fred. Fancy meeting you!

-I get about a bit!

Last time I saw this it were in a million pieces. How long's it been?

-There must've been near a million.

-I know there were a lot.

More skill in this than Picasso ever put into one of his paintings!

-Aye.

-That's my opinion.

-He were drunk half the time!

-I suppose the blokes that put this up were drunk!

-More than likely!

Where did it come from?

Jack...where did it come from?

-<

-Yorkshire.

-Yorkshire.

-Aye.

-We got there before the scrap blokes.

-Just fodder for them.

-It's heartbreaking to think of some of the stuff that's been scrapped.

-Oh, yes. Mmm...

-It's all in the name of progress.

-Is that what they call it?

-Yeah.

But progress didn't do much for the textile industry.

Once there were an abundance of spinning mills in Lancashire.

Towns like Bolton and Manchester and Rochdale had dozens of them.

Nearly all of them have gone now.

This is all that's left at Ellenroad, off the M62 motorway near Rochdale.

Mills like this were big places. 250 people used to work in this one.

Now only the engine house is left.

It's got one of Lancashire's last working steam engines inside.

-Good morning, Richard.

-Morning, Fred. Nice to see you again.

Oh, yes. I've been before haven't I?

I know it's a tandem something or other. But what is it really?

If you must know, it's a twin tandem compound steam mill engine.

It's a twin because there are two engines really.

-This is Victoria and Alexandra.

-It's tandem

because it has two cylinders in each engine,

and compound because the steam is used twice in each cylinder.

The engineer, if you came into the engine house, which wasn't allowed,

but if you crept in and he didn't see you,

you'd probably see him sitting down looking relaxed.

The job was actually very stressful. The whole of the production

of the mill relied on the engine going at a constant speed.

The operatives were on bonuses for the amount of cotton they produced.

If the engine broke down, they'd be losing money.

So would the management. It's complicated by the fact that

if the operatives put in for more money,

the management would tell the engineer to speed the engine up.

That meant it broke down more often.

He'd get it from the management and the operatives.

-They'd put the windows through.

-That's not very nice!

-No.

My knowledge of steam engines stems from when I were quite a small boy.

A bit of a burglar really, like! In them days, like 50 odd years ago,

when a works shut, they actually put everything in mothballs.

At the bottom of our lane there were a lovely old works with two chimneys

and I used to go and break in and lift the sheets up over the engine.

It was painted beautiful British racing green and waiting,

all greased up, waiting for better days. But, alas, they never came.

I remember the boilers being dragged

on to a wagon and, no doubt, exported to India or somewhere.

Probably still running in India!

STEAM HISSES

As the factory system developed,

most mills were built in urban areas. But, there some in the country.

Coldharbour mill is a good example.

It's a 200-year-old woollen mill in Devon, where you can still see

how water power and steam power were used side by side.

This machine is spinning the wool down through,

drawing it down much finer.

It's descended from Arkwright's water frame.

But this one dates from 1907.

-Would you like to turn it on?

-Yeah. You showed me earlier.

You can see that they're going slower

these are faster. The wool is drawn out seven times making it finer.

We start off with worsted wool like this

that we spin on the different machines here.

-That's for making jumpers?

-Yes.

That's for making Aran jumpers to keep us warm.

The water wheel that provided the power for a lot of the machinery,

is now having some much needed restoration work done on it.

Now, then!

-A bit moth-eaten, innit?

-They had their money's worth!

Must've been a bit on the tight side with all these patches.

They kept it going with as little as possible.

-Is this the original?

-No, we think it's the third wheel that was here.

The wheel got bigger as the power demand got greater.

-This was a small grist mill to start with.

-Yeah.

As demand increased the wheel got bigger and then...

-Steam engines!

-That's right!

Much more reliable.

This is it then. The latest thing, eh?

-That's it, 1910. Brand new.

-I see it's got Mr Tate's

patent engine stop apparatus on it. That, for anybody who didn't know,

were if you got caught in the works upstairs, somebody could break the glass and stop the engine.

More than likely too late! Nevertheless, they tried!

-Takes a lot to stop it.

-Yeah.

-12 tons of flywheel.

-This is one of your Lancashire boilers, eh?

-That's right.

Good and true.

-How old is it?

-1888 this one.

-And still in good order?

-Done a lot of work this one.

-These are beautiful compared to the modern equivalent.

-Definitely.

Now, it's all horrible puny things.

-You're cleaning it?

-Yep.

-Want to look inside?

-Yes.

Expect you've been inside one of these before.

I've been in a few.

When I were a kid, it were fascinating to me.

-Like getting into a submarine.

-Yeah.

Down the whole.

Mmm...bath-time!

That's it.

-OK?

-All right. How are you doing?

-This your own personal submarine!

-Not many people come in here!

If there were any water in here, we'd be just about up to our necks.

Then the fires were lit. They were in these big, long tubes

that come from the front end.

Down below, there's two furnaces. The water would be quite warm.

In the upper bits,

where our heads are, this is the space that the steam were forming in to drive the engine.

This contraption, here, is a low water alarm

that when the water sank to a low level by being boiled away,

it moved a valve here. The boiler house was filled with steam,

so the man at the other end could take appropriate action and put more water in quick.

Every mill, factory and coal mine

had its boilers like this.

There were boiler makers and repairers all over the country. It was a responsible job -

one bit of shoddy workmanship, and disaster!

It's a trade that's almost disappeared. But there are still a few of them left.

I've come here, on top of the Yorkshire moors,

to see my mate Mr McEwen who has this wonderful set up.

As well as his boiler works, he has this engine house and steam engines.

I'll try and find him.

WHISTLE BLOWS

-Hello.

-Show me your engines!

-With pleasure.

Nice to see you.

Mmm...I see you've done it then!

Mind you, good replacement for the Aga that, innit?

It's the most unique kitchen range in Great Britain.

So I'm informed, anyway. We took it out of a mill in Staffordshire.

I were very pleased to get this.

It's a Bury made, Lancashire made, 1882. It's William Bland.

-I'd never heard of them.

-Nor had I!

Only five miles down the road.

Lots of people have ideas, but they never come to nowt.

-But this has.

-Yes.

-Complete with repairs.

-Quite wonderful.

-Yes. I fell in love with it.

Lovely piece of boiler making craftsmanship are them.

The man who knocked these rivets in will be lying in a cemetery in Bury.

Certainly will.

He will. And he'll have worked for a pittance for 75 hours a week.

-And deaf as well.

-Oh, yeah.

-Is the bread good?

-Oh, it's good bread.

-Talking of bread, want some oatbread?

-Thank you.

-Watch your teeth!

-I will.

Subtitles by Iram Chaudry BBC - 1999