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By that time Higher Mill, which had looms only, other processes being carried out at Lower Mill, had closed, reducing the firm’s capacity by almost 60%. In 1891 it had 274 looms, but by 1966 there were just 72 in three rooms, the newest dating from 1953 and made in Blackburn by Henry Livesey, a familiar surname in the Bottoms. The steam engine had gone in 1956 to be replaced by a 50 hp electric motor, and the 12 Livesey looms had their own motors, but the 1905 boiler, 30 feet long, with mechanical stoker and economiser, was still there, providing steam for sizing and heating. As in most of the industry, staff were becoming even harder to find than customers, and the company had the added handicap of a rural location. Although it still owned all the cottages in the Bottoms, 32 in all, most of its workforce no longer lived in them. In April 1960 it advertised in the Lancashire Evening Telegraph for two weavers, “transport provided from bus route to mill and return” and its minibus was a regular sight in the village in the mornings and evenings. By 1966 it had just 23 workers. It carried on working for four more years, finally being liquidated in April 1971. The notice said that “all creditors have been, or will be, paid in full.” In the 192-year history of the industry in the Bottoms that was a rare achievement.
Postscript
Although it eventually survived almost to the end of cotton in Lancashire, the first 68 years of the industry in the Bottoms were little short of disastrous. Whatever vision Edward Heaton and the 6th baronet might have had in 1778, a long succession of bankruptcies and fires meant that the potential of the site, which had level land, plentiful water power, and adequate transport links, was never realised. Although such events were common in the early industry, the chain of them in the Bottoms was exceptional and points to poor judgement, incompetence or recklessness on the part of many of the key figures involved. Heaton’s achievements were, however, considerable, and his bankruptcy may have been due to events beyond his control; given his likely connections, it could well have been triggered by the much bigger failure three years earlier of Livesey, Hargreaves and Co, which sent ripples through the entire industry. Frequent stoppages and closures, over and above those caused by trade fluctuations, meant that life for the families dependent on the businesses was always precarious, and it is clear from newspaper reports that the level of poverty in the Bottoms was often extreme even by the standards of the time, and mitigated only by charity. The nearest alternative employment being at least four miles away, the choice was between a long walk or moving, and a settled community could never have been established.
The Hoghton estate would have made little or no return on its investment in water power and roads but was hamstrung by the terms of the leases which gave it no control over the individual businesses. It would also have suffered a heavy loss of rent income as the domestic weaving industry collapsed and the weavers moved to the towns. However, in parallel with concerted efforts to upgrade the farms in the village, after the leases expired in 1841 it took a much more active role in its industry, rebuilding both then-derelict sites and bringing in Cornelius Walmsley, who had the competence and experience which many of his predecessors appear to have lacked.
His efforts, though, could not compensate for the loss in 1846 of the largest mill, Livesey’s. Thereafter the population of the Bottoms would be much smaller but more stable, and a close-knit community developed around the mills, supported by a benevolent employer. I was told in 1966 that a derelict three-storey building at the east end of the Lower Mill site had once been used as a social centre for the village.
However, by the end of the 19th century benevolence had become benign neglect. By the end of World War One the mills had become obsolete and were closed for some time before being revived under new management. Surprisingly they carried on even as the rest of the Lancashire industry went into decline, but by the 1960s it was catching up with them too. When in 1966 I visited the surviving Lower Mill, although by then the steam engine had been gone ten years and there were fluorescent lights and a few modern looms, it felt like a museum and it was clear that the elderly owners would not be able to carry on much longer.
Now there is very little left to see of an industry which lasted nearly 200 years. Lower Mill has completely disappeared apart from the office and stable, now dwellings; in 1966 the stable housed the lorry, still smartly painted with the company’s name. All that is left of Higher Mill is a house constructed from the first two storeys of the original building, which may go back to the early 1780s, and of the once-extensive Livesey’s Mill and later shuttle works there is just the former cart shed, now being converted.
Blackburn Road is now a cul-de-sac, the bridge having been swept away in 2015, but much of the water infrastructure is still there, hidden beneath the trees. The water in it, though, is clean. Even in 1966 the river was grey and pungent, and I can still remember the stench which hit me in Lower Mill when Mr Moore opened the hatch to show me the turbine, but it must have been vastly worse before Darwen and Blackburn got sewage works and the river was an open sewer for over 100,000 people.
The most visible survivals are the dwellings, the former cottages of the workers and the larger houses of the owners; Edward Heaton’s house is a ruin, but Hoghton Hall survives, as does Vale House which is Grade 2 Listed. It is now difficult to imagine the valley as it must have been at its industrial peak in the early 1820s, dominated at its centre by a six-storey mill, with smoking chimneys, rattling machines, carts bumping along, and home to hundreds crammed into cottages and working long hours in the mills or printworks or at a handloom.
RH v6 2/2/26
rogerhargreaves20@gmail.com