The Black Bull, Rimington

When the Black Bull at Rimington closed its doors for the last time, I was genuinely sad. 100 years ago, the pastor at Martin Top would have relished the closure of the district’s saloons and ale-houses. Considered temples of godlessness and the greedy recipients of poor families’ incomes, nonconformist chapels like ours hosted chapters of the Temperance Movement, discouraging people from imbibing liquors and demon drink. Latterly, pubs became friendlier establishments, community foci and village features. Closure renders Rimington that little bit poorer, one less resort for its people to access. Contrast today’s village amenities with those of 1861: two chapels, three butchers, a grocer, tailor, miller, blacksmith, joiner, wheelwright, stone mason, baker, two schools and a cobbler.

The Black Bull had been on its site since at least 1700. In 1900 it was demolished and rebuilt by a tee-total couple, making it a temperance establishment, accordingly rebranding it The Haven Hotel. It was then associated with the Methodists. In 1939, despite the objections made by Pastor Edgar West of Martin Top and the local minister at Stopper Lane Methodist, a license to serve alcohol was granted and the establishment reverted to its older name, minus the Inn: The Black Bull.

The Haven sounds a reasonable name to those who wished to be freed from drink and debauchery, but what of the Black Bull name? Black may refer to the black velvet or cloth which the unsuccessful 1736 Gin Act caused gin-selling premises to drape over their signage. It might refer to the leaden seal attached to papal documents (Latin: bulla), though this generally applies to sixteenth-century establishments. A bull was a colloquial name for a small keg, and the verb bull meant to pour water into an empty rum cask and then drink up the now flavoured contents. Alternatively, the original landlord possessed or knew of a bovine bull which was particularly black- not terribly exciting, but probably the case.

As British life becomes more digital and lonelier in equal measure, so community groups, premises and associations become all the more vital. I regret the loss of our local public house. The lane through Rimington is that little less interesting for want of it. Still, our longing for company and yearning for association is essentially spiritual. We were designed to have fellowship with our Maker and with each other. Sin cut us off from the former and strains relations with the latter. We at Salem may not offer more than teas, coffees and squashes to thirsty locals, but we possess- and share- the very elixir of life:

"Jesus answered and said unto her, Every one that drinketh of this water shall thirst again: but whosoever drinketh of the water that I shall give him shall never thirst; but the water that I shall give him shall become in him a well of water springing up unto eternal life" (John iv.13, 14).

Photo Credits: first & second: D.A. Scott. Third: www.oldclitheroe.co.uk