The historic underworld of the Torrs

New Mills is, as you can tell from its name, a place with industrial origins. A historic mill town on the edge of the Peak District National Park, New Mills continues to boast that it is home to Swizzels Mattlow: you are greeted with the aromas of whatever sweets are being made that day - Parma Violets, Love Hearts, Squashies, each with their own distinctive flavours - as you pass the great cruise-liner of a factory on the road or flank it along the canal.

However, if it weren't for the Swizzels Mattlow factory, it would be easy to overlook the town's manufacturing past. People aren't affected by the same strange wheaziness of the previous centuries, now that polluting industries are gone. While the road from Newtown to New Mills proper is lined with terraces of typical 19th century millworkers' cottages, it would seem, from the street, as though Swizzels Mattlow was the only mill that gave the town its name. But this can't be true - after all, New Mills is plural.

You see, when I say it's easy to overlook the town's industrial past, that's precisely the case. Built above the River Goyt, the town of New Mills sits atop a narrow gorge called the Torrs. At road level, it's easy to develop the misconception that all around is terra firma. But occasionally, you realise that the main road is in fact a bridge and that the bridge crosses the gorge at a surprisingly vertiginous height. What's more, from the bridge you see that, here, clinging to the sides of the crevasse as the river cuts through the rock, are the mills that made New Mills. 

(c) Howard Bristol

The Torrs used to be pretty insalubrious. Hidden from the town, it was the sort of place that attracted the illicit: abandoned mills are magnets for vandalism, and we used to play 'count the shopping trolleys in the river' as children. The town's industrial heritage and the sliver of green space it comprised were clearly more a burden than a blessing. However, in recent years, it seems as though the gorge has managed to wash away its slightly questionable image, and a couple of factors have contributed.

First of these is access. I've always thought of the Torrs like a secret passage in an old house: it leads you from A to B over half the distance in a way you can't quite fathom. This is in part thanks to the Millennium Walkway, which was built, as you can tell, for the new millennium. A floating gangway that flies over the river and the inaccessible riverbank opposite crumbling mill ruins, the walkway has provided safe access to the Torrs from New Mills Central, and represents a green byway to get to the opposite side of town.

Another factor is that over the past decade New Mills has become, if not gentrified, then slightly middle class. With a direct link to Sheffield and two trainlines to Manchester, New Mills seems to be in the process of reinventing itself as a commuter town for young professionals who want to keep one foot in the country while they feed the growing giant of Manchester's brain economy. There are vegetarian cafes and charity shops (I say no more). The difference is only just perceptible, but it has changed how people think about the town, and I think it's changing how people interact with the Torrs, too.

(c) Howard Bristol

Indeed, changes to access and demographic have redefined this channel of green space and its delapidated mill buildings. Not only do the Torrs and its mill ruins continue to be a favourite spot for dogwalkers, but a couple of subtle developments have begun to widen the space to different user groups. An area of the viaduct wall has been set aside for rock climbing, for example. And while the walkway provides novel views of the major mill ruin, at the other end of the gorge is Torrs Hydro. Opened in 2008 with an archimedes screw affectionately called 'Archie', the hydro forms an innovative reutilisation of the upper mill weir, and generates green energy for the local Cooperative. 

(c) Howard Bristol

(c) Howard Bristol

As if to place the cherry on the cake, the Torrs now hosts a regular fixture called the New Mills Lantern Parade. In early autumn, children and adults amass near the great landmark of Swizzels with illuminated paper lanterns as night draws in. Descending into the gorge, dotted with lights and filled with music, you see its industrial ruins cleverly illuminated by spotlight. Although secular, there's something almost religious or tribal about this parade of light, and it's an emotive sight to behold.

(c) Howard Bristol

(c) Howard Bristol

It's great to see the Torrs, as a site of heritage and as a community green space, come to life again in different ways. As people imbue the place with fresh narratives, they will give it new relevance to generations to come.