During a weekend break in Chester, I found myself walking through the city’s old industrial quarter remembering my industrial ancestors.
A canal runs between former warehouses and factories, many now converted into expensive apartments commanding prices my ancestors could scarcely have imagined.
Although we once lived in Chester, my family history lies largely elsewhere: in the tin mines of Cornwall, the coal mines of Durham and the ironworks of Cumbria.
Their lives were hard. Very hard.
Even young girls worked down in t’ pits, while in Cornwall women laboured above ground, breaking and sorting tin ore. They were known as bal maidens.
The wages of my industrial ancestors were meagre, their working conditions harsh, and their contribution to the development of our country is too easily overlooked.
Fortunately, some of our remarkable industrial museums, particularly those in northern England, preserve the stories of these working people.
But how many of us remember the individuals themselves?
I have never forgotten my ancestors.
Industrial Ancestors Tanka
ancestors labour
machinery turns all day
six pennies their pay
their working lives forgotten
who will remember them now
Stillness is a collection of haiku, senryu and short reflective poems inspired by my Buddhist practice, meditation, pilgrimage and the quiet moments of everyday life. Sometimes a few carefully chosen words can express what a much longer article cannot.