These red bricks, these tall chimneys,
Coloured by their blood, shaped by the hands of their children
Carried on their rugged shoulders and working class calves.
We don’t look up enough, we don’t marvel at what they gave us.
These edifices echo with their pain and suffering
Voices of our forefathers, sinewed souls of our ancestors
They built their empires in cotton and coal so that we could enjoy
The fruits of their labours and be forever known as the workshop of the world.
Salford, Stalybridge, Manchester, Blackburn, Wigan-working that weft
Darwen, Accrington, Chorley, Preston, winding that bobbin up.
And the roll call falters, unemployment, hunger, desperation, and impoverishment
They stood together arm in arm, hand in hand, through protest and starvation,
To demonstrate their love and pride for another brother in another place.
We should stand tall for we stand on the shoulders of giants
They gave us humility, compassion, work ethic and pride.
True northern spirit and true northern soul.
©Alison Jean Hankinson
Featured image from the public domain labelled for reuse. Horrockses Cotton Mill Preston.
Other images are my own.
This journey into the cotton famine was a soulful journey and I am very proud of the stance taken by the Lancashire millworkers and the sacrifices they made. We were encouraged to look at soul for poetics at d’Verse.
I have edited this and made some changes.
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Hues of Hankinson 
Indeed… so much wealth built… so much suffering… I grew up in a town like that, that also needed to renew itself over and over.
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Nowt sings a song so soulful to me, a fellow Northerner. A truly eloquent poem.
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Thank you very much appreciated. XX
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Bravo! A worthy tribute!
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A lovely remembrance of those brave workers
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This chills me to the bone,
“…To demonstrate their love and pride for another brother in another place.”
Sounds like the love of Christ, to me. Thank you for writing this, Alison.
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Thank you for your lovely words. They mean a great deal. XX
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They were a hard breed, the mill-owners.
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We take the past for granted. I like this line: “We don’t look up enough, we don’t marvel at what they gave us.”
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Many thanks Frank. XX
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I didn’t know it coincided with the blockade of Southern ports in the U.S. during the Civil War. You described the suffering of the hungry very well. They went from the most productive workforce to unemployment almost overnight
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They stood with Lincoln for the freedom of the slaves and refused to use the cotton picked through slave labour. It was true northern spirit. XX
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Ah, they took sides with the North. I couldn’t figure it out from Wikipedia. That makes more sense, 😁
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I salute them for their compassion, work ethic and steadfast devotion to their brothers and their community ~ Cheers !
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It’s true, some gruellingly hard work was done so we could live in our present ease. An interesting response to the prompt.
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I grew up in a mill town, in a town that also manufactured tobacco products. I think of all the billboard – kitchen and loving room downstairs, 4 tiny bedrooms upstairs. A tiny front yard and even tinier back yatd. I had relatives that grew up in those houses and friends that worked the factories. A hard life indeed. I like your litany of the towns…like a match they are. Excellent poem.
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Much love to you. XXX
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Could have been about some towns in New England. Love how you captured the soul of history, the soul of a mill town.
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Wonderful verse, and fine photography. Like others, how well you’ve captured both the grandeur and the sweat and misery of these towns. bravo.
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Thank you very much. XX
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The other side of the Pennines suffered too… and this sounds like home.
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Much love, I must look up that side too, I like finding the stories. XX
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We are not as different as we traditionally like to think 😉
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I’m a southerner with a northern soul, Alison, and I love the picture you’ve painted of the dark past of ‘the workshop of the world.. Northern place names are so musical and evocative. I’ll think of you when we sing ‘Wind the Bobbin Up’ at Bounce and Rhyme later this morning 🙂
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What a soulful tribute! I just watched a netflix series “North and South” about the cotton mills. The town I live in now was a mill town and now there is one surviving.
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A soulful testament to the sacrifice of the great-hearted!
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I’m so pleased to always learn something new through your poems. A soulful journey, for sure.
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Thankyou Vivian. XX
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SoUL oF SociaL EsTeeM
Roles Full oF Meaning And Purpose
Dreams Come to Hugs oF Family Fruition
Clearly Defined
TRust
iN WhaT
iS A Path
oF LiFE tHaT iS
HoLY And SacReD
OncE MorE iNdusTry oF SoULS..:)
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Much love to you my friend. XX
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SMiLes..
You too..
My FriEnd..:)
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Wonderful! We really don’t appreciate the collective soul that built all of our splendid buildings.
dwight
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