Lancashire: Exploring Rossendale's 3 'hidden' hamlets

Generally, they are about as small a place can be and still have a name - any smaller, and they would be relegated to just being unnamed clusters of houses.

With that in mind, it comes as no surprise that three 'out of the way' hamlets in Rossendale often fly under the radar, I took it upon myself to visit each one to find out how isolated they really are.

Strongstry

Possibly the most village-like place on my explorations, even having its own welcome sign upon entry, Strongstry isn't the sort of place you'd pass through on the way to getting anywhere.

I find it hard to believe you could just stumble across it - you've got to really persevere to get there.

The best way to describe it is that Strongstry lies at the end of an urbanised corridor of distractions.

Leaving the main road outside Ramsbottom, I parked up, expecting a short uneventful stroll.

But, in actual fact, my short half-a-mile walk saw me have to traverse a hectic industrial complex, forklift trucks and high-vis workers were zooming all over the place - not what I expected in a quiet corner of a largely quiet area.

A large factory wasn't what I expected to see (Image: NQ) Once I'd negotiated the busy goings-on, an increasingly loud gushing sound hit me.

Ambling nearer and nearer, a brilliant cascade waterfall appeared around the corner.

Again, not what I'd bargained on coming across (Image: NQ) I hadn't even arrived in Strongstry, and yet I'd encountered all this.

After winding around another lane and turning right under a former railway bridge, I'd finally reached my destination.

It says something about human nature that a few houses at the end of a road have been sectioned off as a new place, and even though it's so tiny, it still has a feeling of identity.

Entering Strongstry (Image: NQ) The hamlet is effectively cut through the middle by the East Lancs Railway, with the River Irwell brushing past the edge of the area.

A few days before my visit, it had reportedly burst its banks amid Storm Bert.

A deceptively fierce-looking Irwell (Image: NQ) A man walking a grand-looking chocolate Labrador was the only person wandering the quiet streets.

The perspective he gave of the place was very much that while the Irwell compliments the area with a lovely footpath, the aggressive stream is also the hamlet's poison.

On at least five occasions this century, including the horrendously devastating Storm Desmond in 2015, the place's houses have flooded; dealing with water in your front room has just become a factor of life there. 

It can't affect house prices very much though, two-bed terraces frequently rack up prices of more than £170,000.

(Image: NQ) "Over the weekend the river had flooded up onto the road, it does get quite bad around here," he said before heading off to explore the footpath that leads towards another of the area's hamlets.

For me, however, I was heading in the opposite direction, just over the river lies another sequestered community.

(Image: NQ) Annoyingly though, despite it just being a stone's throw over the stream, I had to retrace my steps past the industrial hive and re-join the main road.

Onwards!

Chatterton

Much like Strongstry, Chatterton is also at the tip of a winding track.

The terrace-house-lined Chatterton Road that takes you towards St Philips Church appears to technically come under the village of Stubbins.

Looking back over to my previous destination (Image: NQ) And again, fascinatingly, the end of the built-up corridor is identified as a completely new place.

It's not overtly clear when Chatterton becomes Chatterton, but I doubt its double-digit size population will be requesting any UN peace envoys to resolve a heated border dispute between them and Stubbins.

But then again, to my surprise, this charming little cluster of semi-industrial-looking houses, hasn't been a stranger to violent tensions in the past.

The now-quiet former site of a 'massacre' (Image: NQ) According to a blue plaque on the side of a house, on April 26, 1826, an exchange between five handloom weavers, who were destroying power looms at the hamlet's Thomas Aitken's mill in a protest over mechanisation threatening their livelihoods, ended with them, and one onlooker, shot dead.

You wouldn't think that the children's playing field that now resides on the site was once where so much bloodshed took place.

I liked Chatterton, its frost-glazed houses gave a holiday cottage vibe.

My one complaint is that the sizeable grassland would be perfect for a cricket field, such wasted potential - although you'd have to be prepared to get your feet wet fishing for balls in the river, and I bet a few windows might be smashed in Strongstry by some of the area's big hitters.

Two hamlets down, one remained...

Lumb

If you stroll down the dis-used railway lines that you can join in Strongstry, after an hour or so you'll arrive in Lumb.

Characterised by its over-arching viaduct, like the other two places, Lumb is also on the banks of the Irwell.

It is more built up than Chatterton or Strongstry, no structures in those places surpass 15 feet or so, yet it's by far the most remote.

(Image: NQ) Some of the houses were huge glass-fronted properties that must be touching the million-pound mark.

The East Lancs railway line (Image: NQ) What's also quite surreal is how close you can get to the East Lancashire Railway's mainline, obviously because of its slower-moving heritage status the safety precautions are far less stringent, so a short fence is all that separates you from the tracks.

(Image: NQ) And speaking of close proximity to railways, the viaduct is completely accessible to walk over, although you may have to tip-toe to see over the edge.

Whether up high, or down by the footpath adjacent to the river, Lumb must be a photographer's dream.

The view from the viaduct (Image: NQ) You could fill a medium-sized art gallery just with the different scenes available to capture there.

Again though, my major gripe around this place concerns its potential.

Anyone who has read my articles before may predict this view, but a pub, or at least a cafe here, would be something really special.

(Image: NQ) It's got the buildings, maybe accessibility could do with some work - the road going in is littered, and I mean properly littered, with potholes - but you'd get the customers.

Maybe I'm wrong, and bringing more businesses to all of these quaint little communities would ruin their identity, and you can make a strong case for the fact that in today's world, off-the-beaten-track pockets of civilisation should be left un-interfered with.

Whether that's the case or not though, each of the three hamlets I visited - which by the way I had no idea existed until recently - all have a history.

I guess you can never predict what lies at the end of the road...