boxfrenzy
Well-known member
- Joined
- Apr 16, 2008
- Messages
- 86
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This place is getting a bit of traffic recently, and, as I was in the area a week ago, I thought it would be rude not to have a look at Thompson's Mill when I was passing. Like the "don't go draining when it's raining rule" I felt it was time there was an "In the sunshine, it is mill time" one.
History is a bit sketchy on this place; this is the best I can manage I'm afraid readers. It appears that this place is the second oldest mill in Bradford (Holme mil - 1800, pretty much opposite is the oldest) This place was built in 1801/2 by Mr Piele, (a dyer) at two different periods, and at one time was two different mills. Look -here they are. It's both of these buildings, but not the pub.
Let's start at the front shall we? By 1833, Mr Benjamin and Matthew Thompson owned the whole of this mill. Today, it lies empty, trashed and open to the elements, the smack heads and the firestarters.
Anything of value has long been taken away by unmarked vans and flatbed trucks, leaving a shell of a building.
In the adjoining part between the two original buildings, evidence of a recent fire is everywhere, ceilings and walls smoke stained and exposed beams are charred and blackened. An upside down poster advertising "the New Aga" has somehow survived.
I left behind the rubble and headed up the stone steps onto the first, and without doubt the best floor of the mill at the back of the site. I loved it here. I usually hate exploring alone - I don't push myself, and I get irritated with my breathing, but this level was excellent, and I spent ages here, wandering around with the camera. Good times : )
I had struggled with massively over exposed pictures at first up here. It took a couple of minutes to realise I had my prescription sunglasses on. My glasses were still in the car, but I couldn't be bothered going back to get them. Everything took on a wonderful warm and almost sepia glow.
Sunlight streamed in through the windows into this workshop.
A broken chair was balanced precariously on top of wooden palettes. It demanded photographing.
It was evident that this floor had been divided up into smaller work shops at some point. I wandered around in the sun, snapping away.
As well as the fire damaged floor, it soon became apparent that the other levels were in a bad way. Light leaks down from above.
The looms are long gone; the mill silent. Titus Salt, (an important Bradford man, who went on to build the enormous Salt's Mill in Saltaire - named after him and the River Aire) had been experimenting with a Russian wool called Donskoi wool for worsted manufacture. He was unable to persuade manufacturers to make use of the wool, and was determined to do so himself. After careful experimentation, he fully succeeded, by means of special machinery which he set up in here.
Beautiful hand painted signs lie propped up in the corner.
The top level, with its lovely colours, is in a bad state. Like much of Bradford, it has been left to the elements, unloved, and forgotten. The once important location for an industry that shaped a city and clothed a nation is slowly rotting away, the distant echoes from the long gone looms and spinning machines blown away by the breeze that stirs the dust up here on the empty mill floor.
History is a bit sketchy on this place; this is the best I can manage I'm afraid readers. It appears that this place is the second oldest mill in Bradford (Holme mil - 1800, pretty much opposite is the oldest) This place was built in 1801/2 by Mr Piele, (a dyer) at two different periods, and at one time was two different mills. Look -here they are. It's both of these buildings, but not the pub.
Let's start at the front shall we? By 1833, Mr Benjamin and Matthew Thompson owned the whole of this mill. Today, it lies empty, trashed and open to the elements, the smack heads and the firestarters.
Anything of value has long been taken away by unmarked vans and flatbed trucks, leaving a shell of a building.
In the adjoining part between the two original buildings, evidence of a recent fire is everywhere, ceilings and walls smoke stained and exposed beams are charred and blackened. An upside down poster advertising "the New Aga" has somehow survived.
I left behind the rubble and headed up the stone steps onto the first, and without doubt the best floor of the mill at the back of the site. I loved it here. I usually hate exploring alone - I don't push myself, and I get irritated with my breathing, but this level was excellent, and I spent ages here, wandering around with the camera. Good times : )
I had struggled with massively over exposed pictures at first up here. It took a couple of minutes to realise I had my prescription sunglasses on. My glasses were still in the car, but I couldn't be bothered going back to get them. Everything took on a wonderful warm and almost sepia glow.
Sunlight streamed in through the windows into this workshop.
A broken chair was balanced precariously on top of wooden palettes. It demanded photographing.
It was evident that this floor had been divided up into smaller work shops at some point. I wandered around in the sun, snapping away.
As well as the fire damaged floor, it soon became apparent that the other levels were in a bad way. Light leaks down from above.
The looms are long gone; the mill silent. Titus Salt, (an important Bradford man, who went on to build the enormous Salt's Mill in Saltaire - named after him and the River Aire) had been experimenting with a Russian wool called Donskoi wool for worsted manufacture. He was unable to persuade manufacturers to make use of the wool, and was determined to do so himself. After careful experimentation, he fully succeeded, by means of special machinery which he set up in here.
Beautiful hand painted signs lie propped up in the corner.
The top level, with its lovely colours, is in a bad state. Like much of Bradford, it has been left to the elements, unloved, and forgotten. The once important location for an industry that shaped a city and clothed a nation is slowly rotting away, the distant echoes from the long gone looms and spinning machines blown away by the breeze that stirs the dust up here on the empty mill floor.
Love all the different pics, angles, and colours. 
