Life as a Mill Town Worker During the Industrial Revolution

1816:

Hello, my name is Elizabeth Crabtree. I work at a cotton mill in Great Britain. My job at the mill is doffing, but I'll get into that later. I'm twenty years old, but I'm not married, yet (I'm still crossing my fingers). I live with my mother and father in a village of mill workers, which happens to be less than a mile away from the mill that I work at. My father works at the coal mine and my mother works at the same cotton mill that I work at. I had a brother but he passed away about twelve years ago. My family is very poor and the details of my life may be disturbing to those who are looking in from the outside, but it is indeed my life and the only way that myself and my family are able to get by without starving to death.

The place that I call home is nothing short of a over cramped hole in the wall. The village that I live in, looks as though the people who built it, were trying to get as many homes in as little space as they could. My home is always very wet, even in the summer time. For some reason the walls and floors are never dry. The ceiling is very low, it's so low that my father isn't able to fully stand straight up. But the thing that sucks the most about the place that I call home, is that it isn't fully mine. I have to share my house and bedroom with other people that work at the mill. Since we all work in shifts, when I work they sleep and when