Victoria Mill Accrington

Signs of dereliction are all around this old mill, even though parts of it are still occupied by various tradesmen.

The building holds significant interest for me. As a student in the late 1960's, I spent several summer vacations working in what was then a velvet factory, producing a quality cloth sold all over the world. You can still the remains of the word VELVET printed on the wall to the right of the door.

I remember this as the entrance I used every day into an almost Dickensian world of damp and dust. The damp was from the huge tubs of dye into which these strange cylindrical frames were dunked; the velvet, stretched across two circular wheels of sharp pins, was coiled in a spiral so that the layers were never touching.

My most vivid memory was of the women with whom I worked. They were all of an age to be grandparents but behaved in ways I would never expect. On one occasion, their foreman was celebrating his 50th birthday. When the 'girls' heard of the event, the six of them caught the man, stripped him naked and dumped him a cooling tub of maroon dye!

I was always very aware of their dangerous ways and never revealed that the following week I also celebrated my 21st birthday.