Key Points
- The Squirrel, a beloved Bolton-area pub, was a popular stop for coach trips en route to the seaside, particularly in the mid-20th century.
- Located just outside the village of Horwich, The Squirrel was a social hub for locals and visitors alike.
- The pub originally stood on what is now a car park but was demolished and rebuilt in the 1960s, reflecting changing times in the hospitality sector.
- The Squirrel closed as a pub in 2003, was briefly converted into an Indian restaurant, and was eventually demolished, the site now occupied by residential housing.
- Media records and local historians indicate the venue's rich history going back to the early 19th century, serving generations of patrons.
- Fond memories and nostalgia for The Squirrel remain strong, with many recalling its role in community life and regional tourism.
- The closure and demolition of The Squirrel are emblematic of the wider trend of traditional British pub closures in the 21st century.
As local history reveals, The Squirrel in Bolton was once a much-loved landmark, especially with coach parties headed for the seaside. Its disappearance from the landscape has left residents reminiscing about the vital social role it played.
Why was The Squirrel pub in Bolton so popular with coach trips?
As reported by The Bolton News via social media,
"Coach trips to seaside would often stop at The Squirrel Hotel,"
highlighting the pub’s status as a favoured waypoint for holidaymakers. Located strategically just outside Horwich, on the road towards Adlington, The Squirrel benefited from passing tourist traffic, catering to groups who sought refreshments and camaraderie en route to coastal resorts.
Local historian accounts, including commentary found on the Horwich community resource and closed pub databases, reinforce the impression that The Squirrel was part of the fabric of local travel traditions, functioning both as a refreshment stop and meeting place for journeying parties.
How far back does the history of The Squirrel extend?
According to the record on Chorley's Inns and Taverns, The Squirrel Inn was already a going concern as early as 1824, serving the Anderton parish on the outskirts of Horwich. Its long tenure as a licensed venue saw it adapt to the changing expectations of British pub-goers across successive generations, threading its way through the industrialisation of the region and the social revolutions of the 20th century.
Further documentation on the local community website describes how the original Squirrel Hotel stood on what is now a car park, before being demolished and rebuilt in the 1960s—an era of widespread change in the hospitality sector, as noted by unnamed contributors from Horwich’s historical commentary.
What happened to The Squirrel in recent decades?
As written by the author on Horwich’s history site,
"It boasted an impressive collection of motor bikes before it closed as a pub and became a restaurant. That didn't prosper and it is now a housing site".
CAMRA's (Campaign for Real Ale) official records and pub directories confirm that The Squirrel closed in 2003 and was subsequently converted into an Indian restaurant before the building itself was demolished; the land is now occupied by new housing, a fate shared by many of Britain’s traditional pubs in recent years.
Who owned and operated The Squirrel during its heyday?
While licensees and ownerships changed over the decades, the earlier years of The Squirrel included notable local figures and families. Research by the Central Lancashire CAMRA branch and local directories has unearthed names associated with the pub’s running but does not indicate a single long-term proprietor dominating its history. The sense of identity, however, was rooted less in individual ownership and more in community memory and continuous service.
What do locals remember most about The Squirrel?
Local recollections, curated from Horwich’s historical pages and conversations preserved in community forums, are filled with nostalgia. Many recall the vibrant atmosphere when coach parties arrived, the pub's warmth, and its blend of both old regulars and passing visitors. The Squirrel was as much a community centre as a drinking establishment, with stories of reunions, celebrations, and casual stopovers forming a central part of its legacy.
Why did The Squirrel pub close down?
The closure of The Squirrel reflects broader societal changes affecting British pubs. As detailed by Central Lancashire CAMRA and pub closure databases, a mixture of declining patronage, evolving drinking habits, and competition from other hospitality formats contributed to its demise. After 2003, an attempt to repurpose the building as a restaurant was short-lived. Eventually, with no commercial viability remaining, the building was demolished and replaced by houses.
What does the loss of The Squirrel signify for local heritage?
The story of The Squirrel’s demise is part of a larger national trend, as confirmed by CAMRA and heritage forums, which have documented the closure of thousands of 'locals' across Britain in the past two decades. In the words of Horwich’s online historians,
"The squabbles over the fate of the latter building are turning into a soap opera,"
referencing the community’s struggle to come to terms with the erasure of familiar landmarks. The social function of such places—community, identity, history—can be hard to replace.
Is there any campaign or effort to commemorate lost pubs like The Squirrel?
While no specific campaign for The Squirrel is currently active, the loss it represents continues to be discussed on nostalgia forums, in local news features, and on social media channels. CAMRA and similar organisations campaign nationally to preserve drinking heritage and raise awareness about the impact of pub closures on British culture and community life.
As reported by a range of sources including The Bolton News, CAMRA, Horwich historical projects, and local pub archives, The Squirrel’s story is emblematic of the cherished, yet vulnerable, status of the classic British pub. Its memory remains potent in the minds of those who stopped at its doors during coach trips or regular social calls, its absence a testament to the shifting sands of societal change.