Wednesday, 1 July 2026

Wattle and daub cottages in Chorlton

The story of how we lived here in the first half of the 19th century.


There may still have been upwards of fifty wattle and daub houses in the 1840s in our township.

They were constructed from a timber framework with walls made of branches woven together and covered with a mixture of clay, gravel, hay and even horse hair and topped with a thatched roof.

Samuel and Sarah Sutton brought up their 2 children in one of these cottages. Their home was one of two adjoining cottages situated on the Row and in every sense looked the rural part.

The white walls and wooden beams were partly obscured by ivy and the front door was approached through a small country garden. Behind the house and away from the view of strangers stood the privy and the back garden where the Sutton’s grew fruit, vegetables and flowers.

 There would be currant and gooseberry bushes, raspberry canes, rhubarb and mix of vegetables which made an important contribution to the family income and were often home to chickens and even a pig.

Such houses were easy to build and equally easy to maintain, but there could be disadvantages to living in them. The porous nature of walls meant they were damp and crumbling clay meant endless repairs.

According to a later Parliamentary report “Many of them have not been lined with lath and plaster inside and so are fearfully cold in winter. The walls may not be an inch in thickness and where the lathes are decayed the fingers may be easily pushed through. The roof is of thatch, which if kept in good repair forms a good covering, warm in winter and cool in summer, though doubtless in many instances served as harbour for vermin, for dirt, for the condensed exhalations from the bodies of the occupants of the bedrooms....”


Floors made of brick or stone were laid directly on the ground and were almost invariably damp, and in the worst cases reeked with moisture. Once the brick was broken, the floor became uneven and the bare earth exposed. This might be compounded where the cottage floor was below the ground outside or the floor level was uneven which caused problems of drainage. Even the proudest wife and mother must have been reconciled to damp and dirt which were the result of such floors.

The only heating would come from the open fire which might have been combined with a cooking range. On damp days when the coal or wood was wet the smell would permeate every room in the house. During the winter months the unheated bedrooms were particularly unpleasant places. On the coldest nights ice would form on the inside of windows.

Cottages of this design were often limited to four rooms, and some may have had only two, with the family living downstairs and sleeping on the upper floor. In some cases access to the bedroom was by ladder rather than stairs and in many cases bedrooms were left open. One surviving cottage in Chorlton from the eighteenth century did have a staircase which opened out to a big bedroom giving little in the way of privacy.

As for sanitation this would have been equally primitive. Nationally the rural picture was grim with privies often draining into open channels which themselves got blocked with refuse and so flowed too slowly to allow the waste to disperse.


Picture; Sutton’s Cottage circa 1892, photograph from the Wesleyan Souvenir Handbook of 1895 in the collection of Philip Lloyd

The Limited Stop ………….. the only way to travel

Now I remember the limited stop service that Manchester and SELNEC operated with a mix of fondness and frustration.

They were fine if you were at the start of the service and could sail happily through the city streets and on to your destination in half the time.

The 153 from the top of Penny Meadow in Ashton at 6 in the morning would get me into the heart of the city in a fraction of the time the 218 would take.

And if I was lucky, I might catch one of the limited stop buses onto Wythenshawe and work.

But of course, on a cold wet grey day, somewhere on the Ashton Old Road the sight of a limited stop bus was just a frustration as it zipped past without a second thought to those passengers waiting at the bus stop.

I seldom travel on the bus now, preferring the tram, so I am not even sure that the limited stop service still operates.  I could of course go and look, but where would the fun be in doing that?  Instead Reginald of Heald Green will offer up chapter and verse.

And in the meantime, I shall just reflect that Andy Robertson’s trip out to the Museum of Transport Greater Manchester on Sunday provided me with some excellent pictures of buses. *

Here be fine examples of Corpy blue buses from Ashton-Under-Lyne, the brash SELNEC livery and my own favourite, a red Manchester Corporation bus, from 1963.

And here for one moment I must confess I was confused, because I grew up in London with Routemaster buses, and travelled on the 161 from Eltham to Woolwich, and for one moment Andy’s picture took me back 40 years.

But this red Routemaster is a Manchester one, the livery is slightly different and those in the know will point out the technical differences.

All this I know because the Museum has a full list of its collection, and thus I know the details of all those Andy photographed. **

Location; Museum of Transport Greater Manchester

Pictures, from the collection of Andy Robertson

*Museum of Transport Greater Manchester, http://www.gmts.co.uk/index.html

** RM1414 - 414 CLT - AEC Routemaster 2R2RH - Double deck bus, from 1963, Manchester Corporation Transport,
 44 - PTE 944C - Leyland Titan PD2/37 - Double deck bus, from 1965, Ashton-under-Lyne Corporation Passenger Transport, 5871 - KJA 871F - Leyland Titan PD3/14 - Double deck bus, from 1968, Greater Manchester Transport

Well Hall on a wet day in 1964

Now just what do you do on a Saturday morning in early July when the rain is coming down like stair rods?

I rather think an adventure in the woods is pretty much out of the question and likewise the attractions of the market in Beresford Square or the ferry fall away as the rain just keeps falling.

After all even the upbeat market stall holders found their quick fire banter and optimistic sales pitch a bit harder when everything felt damp, while the sight of the Thames held little appeal when the rain clouds all but touched the water.

There were Saturday morning pictures but at 14 that all seemed a bit below me which just left the Library on the High Street and the bus ride down to Avery Hill.

In 1964 it would be a good two years before I started at Crown Woods and so this end of Eltham was still unexplored territory.

I am guessing I went into the hot house but I may have got that all wrong, although fast forward a few years and  I am convinced it was one of those places I visited on Sundays with new girl friends following the Saturday date at the ABC in the High Street.

There will be plenty who remember the scenario ........ the evening went well, you both wanted to see each other again but wanted a place more casual, and above all cheap.


So Avery Hill fitted the bill giving both of you that added advantage of being able to close down the romance and go your separate ways, allowing the rest of Sunday to be salvaged.

But all that was in the future, back in 1964 my options were more limited and ended up with a walk round the Pleasaunce, a trip up to Wilcox’s opposite the parish church and a trip up to London.

The train journey in itself was an adventure and the noise and bustle of London Bridge or Charing Cross could make up for what had been a dull morning in Well Hall.

At 14, pubs were still off bounds, but there were museums, art galleries and monuments to look at. All were free and most were out of the rain.

And of course by the time you got back the clouds had cleared, the pavements dry and the night held out all sorts of promise.

Location; Eltham

Pictures; Eltham, 2013 from the collection of Jean Gammons