The cotton mills of Manchester, England, had once been a chaos of noise, sights and smells. The machines had roared, drowning everything else out and making the workers deaf. Dust and chemicals had rose thickly, settling into workers lungs and slowly suffocating them. Accidents and deaths were a daily occurrence. Thus, was the price the poor paid to try and survive.
Now, the great mills that had been the body of Manchester were silent. They stood rotting or demolished, an empty tomb in memory of those poor souls who had worked themselves to death.
(Inspired by; https://rochellewisoff.com/2019/03/27/29-march-2019/ with thanks).
A nice contrast between the life the mills gave to communities and people, and the risks involved, and the decay that is left behind.
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Thank you. 🙂
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Good brief taste of history. 🙂
And in Norwich, whose wool trade was severely hit by the northern mills, women were attacked in the streets, their cotton clothes torn from them. For the northern mills had made them poor.
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That’s shocking!
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History often is. It makes me glad to be alive in such civilised times.
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Such is the plight of the working ma. Just think how many more tales will be created as technology takes over.. Excellent POV..
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Thanks. 🙂 And yes, I’m sure there are many more stories to come.
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That is life it seems. Yesterdays hero is today’s monument.
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Well put.
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