When I left school I took a job as a carding engineer in a local mill. Most mills in the town produced the lambswool and cashmere knitwear that Hawick is famous for. Wilson & Glenny however was a fully vertical Tweed mill, taking scoured wool and carrying out the entire process from fibre to fine quality cloth. Dyeing, Blending, Teasing, Oiling, Carding, Spinning, Winding, Twisting, Warping, Weaving, finishing and mending. The sights, smells and sounds of a mill have always fascinated me.
On my first day I was met by the Carding Engineer, Rob Chapman and he showed me round the mill. I wasn’t sure I would stick it, it was noisy, and a bit overwhelming. I have good memories of the mill and its colourful characters and recall being drawn to the rhythm of the various machines. Sadly, like many mills, Wilson and Glenny shut down, but the grounding and training I received there set me up well for the years ahead.
Thanks to Ian Landles and Judith Murray who were seeking textile terms and words for The Textile Tower House, museum in Hawick, a line from the song is engraved in the pavement in front of what was the ancient Tower, a very prominent place in the town.
I wouldn’t swop it for a star on a Hollywood sidewalk!
The mechanical sound you hear on the recording blended in with percussion, is of an actual old weaving loom. The older looms had structure in the rhythm. Nowadays weaving looms are so fast that the rhythm is more like a snare drum roll.
A wee reflection of my own past and also reflecting the amazing high-quality knitwear and cloth that is still produced in the town to this day. If the label says “Made in Hawick” you can be assured of the very highest quality. The local people who craft the garments and cloth would never stand for anything less.
The Rhythm of the Old Wool Mill © Alan G Brydon
Young and green, not quite sixteen
O’ School I’d had my fill
I’d tried my hand in a Rock n Roll band
But instead I was heading for the mill
They said we’ve got a job for you
Maybe you can even make it a career
And they offered me an apprenticeship
As a carding engineer
Well I took the job and I worked with Rob
He stood about 6 feet tall
He showed me round the factory
I thought I’d hate it all
But the chains and wheels had a musical feel
And I thought it sounded grand
And before too long I was singing along
With an oil can in my hand
Well the picking stick cracks
As the shuttle gets whacked
And it flies across the loom
And the weft gets tucked
With a Yuka Tucka Tuck
To the drone of the carding room
With the rattle of the spools
And the dancing of the mules
That had never had a day stood still
For years and years I’ve had music in my ears
From the rhythm of the old wool mill
For years and years I’ve had music in my ears
From the rhythm of the old wool mill
Well working on a textile floor
There’s always jobs to do
And if you ever do get bored
They’ll give you something new
Like filling hoppers, changing spools
Or even piecing in
And if you whistle while you work
You’ll hear the mill join in
Textile machines are never very clean
And that was the case with the cards
I had never any peace from the oil and the grease
That was splattering all over the guards
So to keep them clean, I asked for Windolene
So I could see the gubbings inside
But the manager was a Yorkshire lad
He was tight as a duck’s backside
Well the textile trade has moved away
And it’s done so year on year
In Yorkshire and the Borderland
Many mills have disappeared
But forevermore, there’ll be a core
Making quality an art
For we might have lost some looms and mules
But we’ve never lost our heart