History of 3rd Bungalow

According to Affetside’s resident historian Jim Francis just after World War I three wooden chalet type bungalows were built on the open ground in front of the Pack Horse. Number 1 was built around 1923 by Mr. Blenkinship, number 2 in the 1920’s for Jim Yates and his family, and number 3, ours, was built for a Mr Dunkerly on the site of Lower Nuttalls Farm, and modified, still exists today.

The date stone on the ‘barn’ is 1824. There was formerly a farmhouse on this site named on early maps as Wickenly House. I remember a huge inglenook fireplace in the barn, so I think our ‘barn’ was the farmhouse.

My parents bought the house on June 19th, 1953 from Joseph Daniels, a warehouseman and his wife Sarah Ann Daniels for £395-cash. My parents looked at 2 other properties that they could buy with cash – Salt Pie Cottage, a remote building with land, on the moors off the road to Edgworth, and a terraced house in Tottington’s Cann Row, but this latter one was up a steep hill from the village and not a good prospect given my dad’s poor health. I have the deeds to 3rd Bungalow. I also have papers describing Lot 28-no date- ‘Lower Nuttalls’ or ‘Wickenly House’ – a small holding containing 17 acres, 1 rood and 3 perches statue measures or thereabouts, in the occupation of Thomas Holt, yearly tenant. It consisted of 4 fields.

In the 1841 census Lower Nutalls is occupied by James Scholes, plasterer, Mary 35, Ann 20, Wright 15, Betty 8, and James, 3. However, there’s a second Lower Nuttalls on the same census – James Scholes, 30,a painter, Ann, 30, Alice 11, Mary 9, Nancy 5, Ann 3, and Thomas 7 months. I found these and downloaded them.

In the 1871 census we have at Lower Nuttalls Thomas Lowe, 46 farmer of 9 acres, born at Harwood, his wife Margaret, John, 19, quarryman, James 15, joiner’s laborer, Andrew 12, and Alfred 6. There is also David Mills father-in-law – widower Aged 66 a wheelwright.

The front porch is built but there is no garage. The roof is the original. The former army land rover was painted aqua blue

Higher Nuttalls is visible on the right. Photo around 1920. The barns are collapsing creating the gap for the future ‘Rocket’ turnaround

From ‘Memories of People I have met during the last few years – approx 20 years,’
by Hilda Denton:
Gwen Holt called today – Sunday, August 1984. She told us she used to live in a caravan situated behind our barn (so that it was sheltered from the high winds etc). Her and her mother lived there a few years. She attended Affetside day school. This was before the last war. Later she went to Folds Road central school. They moved to another caravan situated on the field on the left going down Black Lane behind Watling Street. Her father kept a farm down Riding Gate. Her married name is Mrs Dyson, 31 Sycamore Road, Tottington. She remembers a man and his wife living in 3rd bungalow aged about 28, Milton Hulme. He kept a corn millers store on Bradshaw road near the Crofters pub. It is still there – a corrugated place – and it has remained empty ever since he hanged himself in the shop whilst he lived at 3rd bungalow. His wife had a 6 week old baby at the time. Gwen remembers to two policemen coming down the fields and asking her where the bungalow was so that they could tell his wife

the news. Later his wife went back to where she was brought up, Staffordshire.

Life could be difficult at 3rd Bungalow: My mom’s diary – December 29, 1993. Jack was taken up the fields on a stretcher at 1-1.30 a.m. and admitted to hospital in Bury.

After my visit in February, 1994 when it became apparent that she needed to move to somewhere easier to live now that she was living there alone Mom had the house surveyed for sale on April 14, 1994 and it was listed for £110,000. She moved to 14 Laburnum Avenue, Tottington, a street with a lovely view of Holcombe Hill with the Peel monument on top, close to Holmwood nursing home was my dad was a resident.

The path to the village: Photo taken in February 1994 . You had to be careful not to stand in the ploffs:

After his health necessitated his early retirement from teaching high school Dad spent his time rebuilding and remodeling the house. Here the front porch, dining room and second bedroom have been completed. There is no garage yet.

Life was tough at Affetside: My mom’s journal- December 29, 1993: Jack was taken up the fields on a stretcher at 1-1.30 a.m. and admitted to hospital in Bury. They were both 73 years old at the time. I think this was the last straw that eventually persuaded her that she had to move. I visited her in February of 1994. She was living alone there. Dad had moved to Holmwood nursing Home in Tottington the week before. It was bitterly cold in Affetside at that time of year. She used little electric fires but only in the room she was actually sitting in. So while the living room might have reached a cozy 75F (the fires didn’t have thermostats) the bathroom and kitchen and bedroom were still in the mid 40’s. I checked these temperatures with her thermometer.

From my journal about the trip:
I arrived at the house around 8p.m. The taxi driver didn’t mind driving down the fields but as I opened the middle gate I was sliding around in mud. All was quiet at the house. It was clear night, cold and breezy, and the lights of Bolton flickering in the distance were an amazing sight. I used to look at this view every night through my bedroom curtains before I fell asleep. I used to think of them as fairy lights. (No wonder Gary Neville, captain of Manchester United built his 14 bedroom mansion in the next field. He was paying for that view!) The next morning my mom woke me up with a cup of tea at 7.20 – so eager to talk to me! Her first job every morning was to venture outside to feed the birds (twopence per bag – as in Mary Poppins – mom always liked that song). There are two robins and a female blackbird that have become tame through constant feeding – chopped bread for the blackbird and chopped nuts for the robin. Mom even goes to a special shop in Bury to purchase the nuts. The birds flew down to the front doorstep as soon as she opened the door, and in the evenings, just at dusk, they come and perch on a tree outside the lounge window as if to say Goodnight.
The next day, being Sunday there were no buses so we had to stay in. There was some sun in the morning but heavy showers in the afternoon. I donned my raincoat, waterproof trousers and willies and went for a walk down the fields. It was very hard climbing the stile: goodness knows how my mom does it carrying her shopping and bottles of milk. The old gully, dug out by open cast coal miners in the 1800’s (
or possibly by the Roman according to some sources) has been filled in. The two huge stone gate posts which always lay down behind the barn have been taken up to another field and planted like a miniature Stonehenge (I don’t recall that). Feb 8th. It was bitterly cold and raining hard as we crossed the fields coming back from a trip to the solicitors – not my idea of fun. The following day a friend took us around tottington to look at a possible new house for my mom. Back on the Affetside bus we had to stop for a cow on the road. It was blowing a gale right into our faces as we walked down the fields: my forehead hurt with the coldness of the wind-chill. I remembered this exact feeling from being a child coming home from school. Feb 12th As we crossed the field there was a bitterly cold East wind. The ground was frozen and the grass was driven white. As we reached Ramsbottom it was bright and sunny but I can’t remember when I was last as cold as that. Feb 13:. It was bitterly cold with a heavily laden sky and flurries of sow. Mum couldn’t put the birds’

water out because it would freeze straight away. Feb 14: On the train going back to Manchester airport at each station I saw huddles masses of frozen people with red faces, blue noses and purple lips. They were even commenting on the coldness of the morning. I was later to learn that it had been the coldest morning for 44 years. At Bolton station I shivered all over – even my knees were knocking together. The snow was blowing onto the platform and there was nowhere to shelter. On the plane I had a window seat and had wonderful views of Iceland with its towering cliffs dropping into the sea. The snow shone a beautiful pink color in the sunset. When I got home I came down with a cold – not surprising really!
She had the house surveyed for sale on April 14th, 1994 and it was listed for £110.000. She moved to 14 Laburnum Avenue Tottington, within walking distance of the nursing home.