Canal Tavern

 (Disclaimer: I fully understand the risks/dangers involved in these adventures and do so in the full knowledge of what could happen. I don't encourage or condone and I accept no responsibility for anyone else following in my footsteps. Under UK law, trespass without force is a civil offence. I never break into a place, I never photograph a place that is currently occupied, as this would be morally wrong and intrusive, I never take any items and I never cause any damage, as such no criminal offences have been committed in the making of this blog. I will not disclose location.  I leave the building as I find it and only enter to take photographs for my own pleasure and to document the building. 

 

 

For as long as I've been doing this blog, people have been saying to me "Do the Canal Tavern." And it did intrigue me, to be honest. I moved to Shrewsbury in 2010, two years after the Canal Tavern closed its doors for good, so I never knew this place in its glory days. I had no nostalgic connection, but nevertheless I was curious, in much the same way I was curious about the Castle Inn, now demolished. 

Back when the blog was new, I was living in the town centre but I was also in a relationship with someone who lived in Castlefields, so I walked past this place pretty much every day, and there was always a light on upstairs. It was a closed pub, but someone clearly lived there, so I gave it a pass. But then about a year ago, I heard whispers that it was either going to be demolished or renovated, and sure enough when I went to check it out, I found it as you see it in the picture- with the windows boarded and big metal fencing around it... and also with the cellar entrance wide open. Obviously nobody lived here anymore, but someone had broken in! I guess I should check it out before it's gone for good.

 

The Canal Tavern had a lovely old advertisement mural around the back which definitely deserves a mention. It's the sort of thing that gives a building that Victorian era character purely because they were all the rage back then, but don't really exist anymore. It reads "Wines & Spirits. Wem Ales. Canal Tavern." 

Some might think this is an odd place to have a sign advertising the pub, painted on the back of the building, but the explanation is simply that this would have faced Shrewsburys canal, the once thriving industry that the tavern is named after. Victorian maps depict the Canal Tavern as being absolutely surrounded by malthouses, goods yards and mills, and it's kinda weird to think that Shrewsbury must have had a completely different vibe only two measley centuries ago. Nowadays, along with the Canal Tavern, a few old remnants of the canal industry still exist, such as the Buttermarket and the Flax Mill, but if one didn't know any better they would walk right by these things today and never even guess that the canal ever existed. This sign painted on the pubs wall would have been a welcome sight to all who approached via the canal. And to top it off, the Canal basin was literally across the street, making this pubs placement a work of strategic genius from a business perspective. It was popular with all the mill workers, railway workers, wharf workers and canal folk.

Older photos of the pub show it with a mill behind it, all part of the canal trade that no longer exist.

(Picture not mine, obviously)

This was apparently taken in the summer of 1975, when numerous derelict buildings still littered the area, the most notable example being the Buttermarket, just down the road from the pub. Of all of the old buildings from the canal days, that's gone on to thrive, being transformed into a reasonably popular nightclub. It's a beautiful building. In fact I'm a little disappointed that it was derelict in the mid 1970s, prior to my existence and ability to photograph it, because now you'll likely see a nun wearing a strap-on before you ever see me in there. Nightclubs just aren't my thing. But the people who do like nightclubs and sex in toilet cubicles need somewhere to do it, so that's okay. I'm glad the Buttermarket could be repurposed.

The Canal Tavern was built around 1820, making it just over two hundred years old, and a century old when the canal basin closed in the 1920s. No doubt at the time, it was a concerning time for the owners, who wouldn't be gettin the same business they once had. Nevertheless, the tavern endured.

Slipping inside was pretty easy. At the bottom of the cellars external steps, the door was open. Someone had broken in at some point. Nevertheless, being over six feet tall had its disadvantages, and I soon found myself chewing on cobwebs. But I do love a good cellar, even if I do have to eat arachnid excrement thats been sculpted into a weird pantry. 

 

There was a rumour that a tunnel led to the castle from here but this seems to be false. It's a nice idea, but alas, the Castle predates the tavern by a few hundred years, so any truth to that story would rely on the pubs builders having prior knowledge of a tunnel and saying "Let's build a pub here." It just doesn't make sense. The Canal Tavern isn't a medieval pub. It's an Industrial Revolution one. Here is where the older generation drank and complained that the industrial agers were ruining the country, to which the industrial agers would retort "OK, Loomer."

Slipping upstairs, I finally got to see the interior decor of the lost pub.

 

I'm gonna be honest, this colour scheme doesn't really do it for me.

 

 

While the seats and tables have mostly been cleared out, the TV remains and it's also possible to see where the dart board used to be. But generally this seems like a dumping ground, as if someone made a start with clearing out the pub before the renovations begin.

 

 

The Canal Tavern has changed hands a number of times. One of the earliest landlords was a chap called Joseph Matthews, who seemingly had his inn-keepers license renewal denied in 1847, due to the it being decided that Shrewsbury already had more than enough.

This seems to have only affected Joseph though, because those who came after him didn't seem to have the same problem. 

By 1870, the pub was ran by a chap called Charles Swallow, who had come to Shrewsbury from Barton le Willows in Yorkshire. According to the 1861 census, he also had a 28-year-old mill worker named John lodging here with his wife, a 26-year-old dress maker from Oswestry named Mary. Also living here was a chap named Shadrach Swallow. Now there's an odd name. Turns out it's Hebrew and means Tender Nipple. I'm serious!

I have no confirmation that Charles Swallow and Tender Nipple were related, but their surname is Swallow, and they both came from Yorkshire, so for them to both end up living in the same pub in Shrewsbury is a little too convenient to be a coincidence. But Charles was forty on the 1861 census, while Tender Nipple was 28, and worked as a butcher. Its's a twelve year age gap, which is obviously too small to be paternal, but feels a little too big to be sibling, although it's not impossible. 

Tender Nipple also had a wife, Eliza, and two children. His son, Arthur James Scarlet Swallow, was born in 1860, and the daughter, Eliza Jackson Swallow, was born in 1858. According to the census, Eliza was living here in 1861 but had moved to Water Street by 1871, and then back to Yorkshire by 1881 where she worked as a dress maker. She got married in 1887 and had two children.

Her brother Arthur wasn't so fortunate. He died when he was only three. I'm not sure if he actually died in the Canal Tavern, but it was his address of residence and infant deaths were sadly quite common back then, so it's entirely possible.

That's pretty sad.

 

There's still glasses behind the bar.

 

Also behind the bar is "Gonzos Price List," which we can see was altered over the years as prices crept up. Gonzo, I assume, was the most recent owner of the pub. Millenials will appreciate his use of early MS Word heading. It's very Early 2000s.

 

 

Behind the bar, there's also loads of these cute kangaroo things. Are they kangaroos or some kind of rat/squirrel hybrid?

 

 

There's a jukebox here, which would probably still work if it had a little TLC. The tracks available can offer us a brief insight into the kind of atmosphere the Canal Tavern offered.

 

 

But in regards to music, it was perhaps the former landlord "Stan" who gives the tavern its fond memories among some of the towns older residents. He ran the pub with his wife Joyce as of 1959, and he was quite the pianist, fondly remembered by the pubs former clients for filling the tavern with his music. In fact, of all the pubs owners, they seem to be remembered the most fondly. 

From the late 1800s, up until the 1940s, pretty much every time the pub changed hands, its new owner had the surname of "Jones" which makes them infinitely harder to research than the likes of Tender Nipple Swallow. I'm quite tenacious when it comes to researching down geneological rabbit holes, but even I won't touch the Jones's. That's too much rabbit hole even for me. You'd never see me again!

Edith Nellie Jones had the pub from 1941 to 1943. She married into the Twyford family and broke the "Jones" chain for the first time that century.

And also at some point in the 1950s, the pub was ran by a chap called Bill Grierson, who was best known for organising trips to the beach. There's a cool old photo showing everyone preparing to board a vintage bus out to the beach from in front of the pub. 

(Photo not mine, obviously)

What I like about this old photo is that the pubs entire frontage looks completely different, and just goes to show how much the pub has changed over the years. It almost looks like a completely different building, which probably isn't helped by the bus blocking the view of the prominent doorway. 

 

 

There's a few other bits still down here, like this trophy for some long-ago competition. It all just feels like a bit of a dumping ground in here.

 

 

Here's a newspaper from 2004

 

And some sort of gigantic check for prize money from a bowls competition. 

And now onto the best part of any derelict building, the toilets...

 

This actually is in better condition than the toilets in some active pubs and clubs. Even with the brick in the sink.

 

I guess somebody broke in by bricking the window, and someone else decided to board the window but not clean up the mess.

 

Behind the bar area is this tiny empty blue room with yellow curtains. It's kinda gharish in how bright it is, but it also has some nature creeping in, so it's pretty cool.

 

 

And then there's this similarly gharish blue and yellow kitchen area, now completely emptied out but still retaining its decor. 

I dunno, this colour scheme seems wacky but it is kinda growing on me. It's eccentric and has character to it. I think it would be impossible to have a low mood if I lived here. The interior decor would just give me a subconsious boost.

 

As an interesting architectural quirk, the main stairway runs down to the bar area, next to the kitchen, but at some point some extea steps were added at a right angle to the stairway, essentially allowing someone to step onto the stairs from the kitchen, so that they didn't have to go aaaaall the way out through that kitchen door and then turn right. It's odd but I love it.

 

The stairs seem pretty ominous, but of course I was going up. It goes without saying though, I usually  have less interest in the upstairs parts of pub explores. Yeah, it may be derelict and empty, but the pub portion is the part everyone has a fond nostalgia for. The upstairs was just accomodation.

 

 

The upstairs bathroom continues the bright colourful aesthetic of the lower floor. This time it's various shades of bright pink.

 

And then there's this weird lounge area.

 

Now this room is creepy. I get the feeling that at some point this part may have become some kind of squatt. There's a general lived-in vibe that the rest of the pub doesn't really have, and there's graffiti on the walls which seems to express all the intelligence and articulation of an Ikea flatpack wardrobe. Whoever did this didn't care about the place. There's no sentimental value here. These are Jeremy-Kyle-Show types who broke in and used the place as a den. Although it is weird that the graffiti is localised to this room and not the rest of the pub.

 

I do like the faded spots on the walls though, indicative that pictures once hung there. It would have been quite homely back in the day.

There's a bedroom here.

 

And this flag for a bowls festival on the Isle of Man.

 

Then there's this room, which clearly belonged to a young boy at some point, with similarly bright colours. Of all the bedrooms, it's the only one that still has any personality to it.

 

 

I don't know anything about the last occupants, but I'm going to guess that this kid is in his mid-to-late thirties now, purely going on some of the objects in this room. Like this one, for example.

 

 

This is an old Mighty Max playset. It was sort of a boys equivalent to Polly Pocket back in the early 1990s. The titular character went through portals to various places and thwarted various evil schemes to destroy the world or enlave humanity. Max himself was your typical 90s protagonist with a baseball cap and a smart mouth, but minimal depth.

 

 

Upon oppening the playset I was quite surprised to find all the little bits still in here. Max himself is about half an inch tall, and the monster figures are usually slightly larger but nevertheless tiny. With so many teeny bits of plastic, it's very rare for toy collectors to find complete sets. I'm no expert on Mighty Max though, so I don't know if this is worth anything for being complete.

 

I am a collector of vintage Transformers though, and there was one of those up here too.

 

 

This tank Transformer is called "Brawl" and he's an Evil Decepticon from 1986. Isn't that weird? This toy is older than me. Brawl was part of a team of five who could combine to form a giant robot named Bruticus. Prior to 1986, the Transformers toys were entirely made of die-cast metal, but made the switch to plastic that year. Consequentially characters like Brawl here, who was released during the switch, have actually got two versions out there for collectors- the common plastic one and the rarer die-cast one. This is curious because it's got a plastic frontage but a die-cast rear. 

 

There's a PS2 controller here too, and i's pretty damn dusty. 

 

There's a couple more bedrooms up here, but they're lacking any character whatsoever. Aparently there is a ghost up here somewhere, but I didn't encounter anything.

 

 

With the pub completed I decided to have a mooch in the garden around the back.

 

I'm not sure if this garden would have once been used as a beer garden or if it was used privately by the owners. The washing line certainly suggests the latter, but as with all pubs in areas like this, the regulars probably did come out here on sunnier days. 

 

Just think, in the 1800s this garden overlooked the canal, and would have been quite a nice little area of green surrounded by all the industrial stuff. 

 

 

This shed was probably used for storage but most likely began life as a Victorian toilet.

 

 

It's quite sad, to be honest, to think of all the happy memories that have been had here over the course of the past two centuries. The pub closed in 2008, and while initial plans did exist to include it in the canal revamp, turning it into an overnight mooring station with some kind of restaurant, these fell through, and the current renovations aim to turn it into regular old accomodation. So while the building will still stand, it will be completely unrecognisable as a pub in the years to come. My generation never had the chance to drink here, so when the older generation dies off, its time as a pub will be completely forgotten.

 

That's all I have for the Canal Tavern. As far as urbex goes, it was nice to finally scratch the itch on something so close to home. It's not an epic saga, but it is part of my towns history, and that makes it special to me. For other urbexers, unless you have a time machine you won't be getting in. At least, not in an urbex capacity. You could move in as a tennant once the renovations are complete. 

I enjoyed the adventure. I do a lot of stuff all over the country now, and sometimes outside the country, so it was nice to see that my town still has stuff to offer on my doorstep.

My next blog is going to be an old military base, and then on my other blog I'll be doing an abandoned Scare Maze, which I'm really looking forward to writing about. In the meantime, follow me on Instagram, follow me on Twitter, follow me on Vero, and follow me on Reddit. Don't follow me on Facebook. It's a cesspit. If you have a Facebook, my condolences. Isn't it shit?

Thanks for reading!