The Journey Home

Chapter 11 - A Touchstone

John Thornton found his machine shop manager, Nicholas Higgins, beneath a loom installing a new fitting to aid in the smoother movement of the frame. Nicholas was just beyond 50 years old, or so he believed. Birthdays came and went among Milton's working class without recognition, with the only acknowledgement of the day being found in a family bible, assuming someone in the family could read and write, and owned a bible.

Nicholas was a well respected leader among the workmen, many of whom related to his background and watched in awe of his success. He was self taught in reading, writing and mathematics, having never attended school as a boy. He went to work when he was not yet 10 years old at a spinning mill, and adapted with the growing cotton industry to learn both spinning and weaving, along with the workings of the machines they used to accomplish these tasks.

The course of his life changed dramatically after leading a failed workers strike and the unrelated death of his daughter. If was only at that point that he realized that his life was his own to make something of and blaming others for his own short comings did nothing to improve his situation. Through the kind intervention of his daughter's friend, Margaret Hale, Nicholas came to work at Marlborough Mills, and this is where his resolve for self improvement began. He rose from worker to foreman in short order, when he organized a crew of skilled workers to bring Marlborough Mills back on line in the fall of 1854. Nicholas was successful because he was straight forward and fair with the men that worked for him. He felt that men should know where they stood and should not operate under false pretenses. Even before the cotton market crashed, he began to appreciate his own employment as a privilege; there were many others to take his place.

Nicholas had a habit of tinkering and frequently fashioned fixes for the overused mill machinery. He took a small workshop in an obscure part of the mill property and built a self sufficient machine shop to address the needs of Marlborough Mills. His enterprise became well known around Milton and was soon the parts manufacturer of choice for other Milton mills. With an investment from John Thornton, Nicholas expanded the enterprise when John purchased Slickson's defunct mill and warehouses. There, he opened a machine shop that distributed parts for the evolving cotton and wool weaving mills throughout the region. Nicholas' success could not have arrived at a more opportune time. Signs of a slowing cotton economy were on the horizon early in 1858, and his business helped to diversify John Thornton's businesses and helped provide employment for displaced mill spinners an weavers.

John thought Nicholas was rude, defiant and a thorn in his side. He was also John Thornton's closest friend and moral compass when it came to helping Milton's working class.

John looked down on Nicholas who lay on his back, working on the fitting above his head. He crossed his arms across his broad chest. "Higgins, a word if you don't mind." Nicholas grunted his response. "Aye, it's a moment I need to finish this turn. Ah! There she is. Fits perfect." He slid himself out from under the loom, a broad smile on his face. He was covered in cotton fluff, which made his graying crop of hair look white. A slight smile crossed John's lips as he turned on his heels and began to briskly walk. "My office, Higgins." The men around them looked fearful that they had taken too long working on the loom and that the Master was going to reprimand Nicholas. He stood, wiped at the fluff as best he could and hurried to catch up to John's long strides.

When Nicholas had caught up, John slowed his step and spoke sideways to him. "We have men that are perfectly capable of fixing things. You needn't be crawling around on all fours..."

"Needed it done quickly, John. Need to get the Anderson order out by weeks end." He growled back.

"And there's no one else keen enough to do the job? You need to decide on a successor. This mill cannot depend on only one man's talents." Nicholas stopped in his tracks and looked defiantly into John's eye.
"Pot calling the kettle ...."
"Yes, yes, I speak from experience. " John waved off the argument. "Your office or mine?" Nicholas looked up at the large clock in the sorting room and noting the pre-lunch time, decided on his office. He grabbed his canvas tool back and gray wool jacket at the door and lead John to the canteen.

Upon entering the canteen, Nicholas called out to Prudence Cartwright, the matron overseeing the cooking in the kitchen "Oy, Pru love, I'm keeping office hours. A couple of coffees please." He dropped his tool bag with a thud on a nearby table and sat. It did not go unnoticed by John that Nicholas said please to Mrs Cartwright. He had been keeping company with the boisterous widow for years, and beneath his tough exterior, he was hopelessly smitten with the freckled redhead. Other than John, no one was permitted to inquire about the relationship. No one.
John sat across from Nicholas and graciously accepted the fresh coffee from Mrs Cartwright. "I've heard that Watson has let go workers. How many?" He inquired.
"Over 20 families were hit." Replied Nicholas.
"And how many workers?"
"Hard to say. Many o' thems are childun. Say about 30 or 35. For the most part, there's adult workers still at a position, so no'un's headin for work house." Nicholas rubbed his bristly chin thinking of the deplorable conditions of the parish work house. John sighed in frustration. "I don't know how much more of this people can take, but the end of this famine is not in sight. You'll offer places at the school for the children?" Marlborough Mills supported a small school house for children that no longer worked.
"Yes, we'll do that. Mind you, we're spreading ourselves thin." Nicholas reminded John.

"Which is why I wanted to speak with you. I've extended my trip to London. I've just been told I have an audience with the Committee. Perhaps some of these figures about the rate of unemployment will hasten some relief. "
"You'll be meetin' with Townsend, then?" Nicholas asked. Andrew Townsend was the MP representing Milton and surrounding cities and towns in Parliament. Townsend had little interest in seeking additional relief beyond Milton's central relief committee funding until a proposal gained more popularity at the national level. The Conservative Townsend was not a man to take the first step.
"I have an appointment." John confirmed.
"I'd like to help you keep that appointment..." Nicholas muttered with a threatening tone.
John smiled at the scrappy fighter that sat across from him. For all his threats, John had never known Nicholas to be a man of violence. John reached into his breast pocket and withdrew an envelope containing money and handed it to Nicholas.
"For the kitchen. While I am away. There should be plenty there to provide for a good meal each day. Mind that you go with Mrs Cartwright to the butcher. Make sure he gives us decent cuts." Marlborough Mills had been supporting a soup kitchen for nearly 2 years for the displaced workers of Milton. The kitchen was open to all in need, although they frequently had to turn away families at the end of the line. Mrs Cartwright not only ran the canteen for the paying customers of Marlborough Mills, she also cooked for the soup kitchen that served one warm meal a day. Like many of the more seasoned employees of Marlborough Mills, she did this extra work without pay and was a miracle worker when it came to using every last bit of an animal and turning it into delicious soups and pies.

Nicholas weighed the heft of the envelope in his hand. "Thank you, John. You've the heart of a saint behind all that bark and bite." John quickly changed the subject. "Do you need anything more from me?" He asked as he rose from the table.
"No sir." Nicholas replied. "You got anything else going on when you're in London?" Nicholas' eyes sparkled as he asked the question, and the look did not go unnoticed.
"Well yes, I do." John answered. "I'm going to see the lawyer about purchasing the property."
"You mean Miss Margaret's lawyer?"
No answer.
"She'll never sell." Nicholas stood and rubbed an aching muscle in his shoulder.
"Why do you say that?" John said sharply. Nicholas realized he hit a nerve and decided to go easy on his friend.
"Bah, just a hunch." He shook hands with John. "Good luck on the trip. I'll keep an eye on Mrs. Thornton, too."
John nodded and began to walk away. He stopped suddenly when he remember one additional matter. "Where are you with locating a new teacher for the school?"
Nicholas smiled. "Oh, that. Got it covered. 'Spectin' a new one to arrive in a few weeks. She should be here by time you get back. " He patted his breast pocket which contained a letter from Margaret Hale.