Pubs of Madeley Parish

Introduction

The old parish of Madeley once drank its way through more pubs than some towns twice its size. The 1849 Tithe Award alone lists at least twenty-six inns and beerhouses, packed into the steep lanes, riverbanks and industrial rows of Ironbridge, Coalbrookdale, Jackfield and Coalport. Some were grand coaching houses, some were riverside alehouses barely bigger than a cottage, and a few were little more than front-room beer shops serving miners straight off shift.

Most have vanished; a handful survive. What follows is a walk through the pubs of the parish — the well-documented, the half-remembered and the completely lost — told through the dates, landlords, demolitions, legends and fragments they left behind.

The 26 Original Pubs

• All Nations

• Pheasant

• Rodney / Old Rodney (Wharfage)

• White Hart

• Tontine Hotel

• Three Tuns

• Queen’s Head

• Chestnuts

• Coopers Arms

• Blockhouse

• Bird in Hand

• Robin Hood

• Swan (Jackfield – The Swan / Black Swan / Dirty Duck)

• Half Moon

• Brewery Inn

• George & Dragon

• Golden Ball

• Horse and Jockey

• Unicorn

• Bath Tavern

• Royal Oak

• Crown (Hodge Bower)

• White Horse

• Horse Shoe

• Six Bells

• Wheatsheaf

All Nations Inn — Off Coalport Road, Madeley (1789–present)

Tucked away off Coalport Road in Madeley, the All Nations opened in 1789 and carries a name that genuinely sets it apart — there is no other known pub in the country with the same title. At a time when every other inn seemed to be a Crown, Royal Oak or Swan, Madeley’s All Nations was already doing its own thing.

Its name reflected the character of the district: the pits, brickyards and ironworks of nearby Madeley Wood drew in a workforce from all over Britain and beyond. Locals said the area was full of labourers from “all nations”, and the pub embraced the nickname as its identity.

The Baguley family ran the All Nations for an extraordinary 103 years, and began brewing on-site in 1832, making it one of the parish’s earliest home-brew houses. The Baguleys were also builders, credited with constructing several local railway stations — an unusual mix of trades that somehow suited this uniquely named alehouse.

While dozens of Madeley beerhouses vanished through slum clearance, licensing cuts and road schemes, the All Nations survived intact. Today it remains one of the oldest continuously licensed pubs in the parish, still trading, still brewing, still very much part of the landscape just off Coalport Road.

The Pheasant — Coalport Road, Madeley Wood (mid-19thC–mid-20thC, now a private house)

The Pheasant stood on the Madeley Wood stretch of Coalport Road, only a few doors uphill from the All Nations. It was a small, straightforward working pub serving miners, brickyard men and the families who lived along this busy route between Madeley Wood and Coalport.

A memorable feature beside the pub was the green wooden cabin-shop, first run by Mrs Lloyd and later by Mrs Harris. It sold bacon, groceries and clothing (often bought “on tick”), and Mrs Heighway from the All Nations even bought her brewing sugar there. When the business grew, Harris’s later moved into the shop beneath the Royal Oak in Madeley High Street.

The Pheasant never became one of the district’s grand inns, but it was a long-standing, much-used local house. It eventually closed in the late 20th century. The pub building itself still survives, now converted into a private house on Coalport Road — one of the few Madeley Wood beerhouses whose structure remains.

The Rodney — 33 The Wharfage, Ironbridge (early 19thC–20thC)

The Rodney stood at 33 The Wharfage, one of the landmark inns on the Ironbridge riverfront. First recorded in the early 1800s, it served boatmen, foundry workers and later tourists drawn to the Gorge. Its name followed the patriotic fashion of the period, honouring Admiral Sir George Brydges Rodney (1718–1792), whose naval victories were widely celebrated.

The pub had a distinctive three-storey frontage, with a function room upstairs that doubled as a clubroom and a venue for dances. In the 20th century the building was converted into flats, remembered locally as Rodney Flats in the 1960s and 70s. Residents recall the steep brick steps down to the road and the dark limewashed exterior long before the façade was cleaned to reveal the lettering still visible today.

Although it stopped trading as a pub decades ago, the Rodney’s building survives as a Grade II listed structure, making it one of the Wharfage’s most important surviving former inns. Its riverside position marks the start of the long run of historic pubs that once lined the Wharfage.

The White Hart — 10 The Wharfage, Ironbridge (18thC–present, Grade II listed)

The White Hart is one of the few surviving historic pubs on The Wharfage, its river-facing frontage still marking the spot where boatmen, ironworkers and early travellers once stopped for ale. The pub appears in records from the 18th century, making it one of Ironbridge’s older licensed houses, and today it stands as a Grade II listed building, recognised for its architectural and historic interest.

Its name is one of the oldest pub signs in England. The White Hart was the personal emblem of King Richard II (1377–1399) — a white stag with a crown around its neck — and quickly became a popular inn sign across the country. Choosing this name signalled stability, tradition and royal protection, and it places Ironbridge’s White Hart firmly in the lineage of medieval-inspired English taverns.

Unlike many of the neighbouring Ironbridge pubs that were lost to 20th-century clearance and redevelopment, the White Hart survived and later underwent sympathetic restoration. Today it operates as a pub with rooms, retaining its historic character and offering one of the clearest surviving glimpses of what the Wharfage’s bustling riverside pub scene once looked like.

The Tontine Hotel — 13 Tontine Hill, Ironbridge (1780–present, Grade II listed)

The Tontine Hotel is one of Ironbridge’s most important surviving Georgian buildings. Built in 1780, it was designed by Shrewsbury architect John Hiram Haycock specifically to accommodate the growing number of visitors flocking to see the brand-new Iron Bridge — the wonder of the industrial world.

From the start, the Tontine wasn’t just a hotel; it was a social and business hub. The Shropshire Canal Company used it as a meeting place, industrialists gathered there, and travellers treated it as the grand coaching inn of the Gorge. Its symmetrical brick façade and three-storey Georgian proportions make it a standout example of late-18th-century architecture.

The name Tontine comes from the unusual funding method used to build it: a group of investors paid in, and as each investor died or withdrew, the remaining members gained a greater share. The fund here was never fully completed, but the name stuck.

In 1786 the hotel was extended by Samuel Wright of Kidderminster, increasing its size and prominence. Its spot directly facing the Iron Bridge made it the landmark building of the Gorge long before tourism existed as we know it.

The Tontine has also seen its share of darker history. In the 1950s, Frank Griffin — the last man to be hanged in Shropshire — was arrested here after murdering Jane Edge, landlady of the Queen’s Head in Ketley.

Despite stories, folklore and a reputation for ghostly goings-on (especially around Room 5 and the cellar), what truly defines the Tontine is longevity. It remains open today, still presiding over the Bridge it was built to serve nearly 250 years ago.

The Chestnuts — The Wharfage, Ironbridge

First recorded: 19th century

Closed: early 20th century (before 1930s)

Demolished: 1948

Current status: Gone

The Chestnuts stood on the Wharfage facing the River Severn, instantly recognisable thanks to the two large horse-chestnut trees growing in front of the building — the very feature that gave the pub its name.

Originally a modest riverside alehouse serving boatmen and Wharfage families, The Chestnuts had already ceased trading as a pub by the early 20th century. By the 1920s–30s it was occupied by Hewitt’s Hovis shop, a bakery remembered for its distinctive frontage and its unusual layout: the shop floor sat on the second storey at the rear because of the steep bank behind.

The building was condemned by the Council in 1937, and Hewitt’s moved to 6 Tontine Hill the same year. The former Chestnuts building was finally demolished in 1948 — one of many Wharfage clearances — leaving only photographs to show where it once stood beneath those famous chestnut trees.

Three Tuns — 31 High Street, Ironbridge (1812–mid 20thC)

First licensed: 1812

Closed: mid-20th century

Current use: Ground floor now a sweet shop / pop-up gallery; upper floors remain residential / commercial.

The Three Tuns was once one of Ironbridge’s busiest lodging houses, sitting proudly on the High Street and serving the constant flow of travellers coming from Madeley, Coalbrookdale and the gorge. Its name refers to the big wooden beer tuns used in brewing — a very common sign across the country in the 18th and 19th centuries.

It appears as a long-established inn by 1812, and throughout the Victorian era it operated as a “Commercial Hotel.” An old photograph shows proprietor John Davis standing proudly outside the doorway, advertising rooms, food, and stabling for visitors to the gorge.

The pub ceased trading sometime in the mid-20th century but the building itself survived completely intact. Today, the ground floor is still in public use — remembered as Nettie’s, Traditional Sweet Shop, and more recently functioning as a pop-up gallery. Above, the historic Georgian frontage remains one of the best-preserved elevations on the High Street.

It’s one of the rare Ironbridge pubs that closed, but whose building — and character — remain unmistakably in place.

Queen’s Head — High Street, Ironbridge (1829–early 20thC, demolished)

First recorded: 1829

Closed: early 20th century

Demolished: mid-20th century

Location: Next door to Beddoes & Son, now the car park beside Nick Tart.

The Queen’s Head stood on High Street, immediately next door to Beddoes’ shop (not on the site of the current Nick Tart building). It first appears in Pigot’s Directory of 1829 under licensee Harriet Fowler, and later landlords included Joseph Fletcher and Edmund Joseph Ryalls, who remained connected to the pub until his death in 1931.

During the First World War, the pub was used for convalescing soldiers, one of several Ironbridge inns adapted for wartime needs.

The Queen’s Head was also tied to the Severn Brewery run by Edwin Fletcher Groves, who supplied several pubs in Ironbridge, Madeley and Broseley during the late Victorian period.

A distinctive feature of the pub was its perron — a walled staircase that kept drinkers from stepping straight into traffic, similar to the surviving example outside the Coalbrookdale Inn.

The building suffered during the mid-20th-century High Street landslip and clearance works. Locals consistently recall that the structure became unsafe and was demolished during the same period as the collapse of Gainham’s shop and stabilisation work further up the bank.

Coopers Arms — Severnside, Ironbridge (c.1840–1938/39, demolished)

The Coopers Arms stood on the riverside at Severnside, on a piece of land long known as Gareys (or Gearys) Square. The pub and the row of cottages behind it were all owned by the Owen family.

John Owen lived there with his wife and family after he retired from working barges on the River Severn. Prior to that Tommy Rogers the poacher lived there until his death in 1924. It was originally inhabited by his wife's uncle, who they lived with.

A photograph dated to around 1890 shows the Coopers Arms during its working life, before the area fell into decline. The pub survived into the early 20th century but was finally demolished in 1938–39 during the slum-clearance programme that reshaped much of Severnside.

The Owen family continued to own the land and cottages right up to this clearance period. Rather than allow a compulsory purchase, the properties were sold within the family — to Harry Rogers, whose wife Christiana was herself a granddaughter of John Owen.

Harry and Christiana took over the pub when they returned from Wrexham. Harry Owen from Everall Grove on Bath Tavern gave it to them.

Harry Rogers, working alongside Sam Moseley — Christiana’s brother-in-law, who drew up the plans — used the salvaged bricks and timber from the Coopers Arms and its cottages to build the house known as Victory. They lived in the cottages whilst it was being built. The present building stands as a direct continuation of the old pub, physically made from its remains.

Today, nothing of the original Coopers Arms survives above ground, but its story lives on through the Owen family, the reused fabric in Victory, and the rare surviving photograph from the 1890s.

Blockhouse — Waterloo Street, Ironbridge (1829–early 1970s, demolished)

First recorded: early 19th century (Pigot’s 1829 lists John Till as landlord)

Closed: mid-20th century

Demolished: early 1970s for roadworks and landslip stabilisation

Location: Waterloo Street, roughly where the roundabout and traffic island now sit.

The Blockhouse was one of the best-known lost pubs of Ironbridge, standing on Waterloo Street in the row that once included the Crown Inn, Woolley’s shop and Beddoes’ warehouse. In Pigot’s Directory of 1829, the pub appears as “Block House Rock” under landlord John Till, confirming it was already established by then.

Through the 19th century the Blockhouse served the miners, boatmen and ironworkers who lived along Waterloo Street, then one of the busiest residential and commercial rows in the town. By the 1960s the entire street was in structural decline, hit by subsidence, dereliction and road-safety issues.

When Telford Development Corporation carried out their massive road realignments and landslip works in the early 1970s, the Blockhouse — along with the Crown Inn and much of Waterloo Street — was demolished to make way for the new junction layout at the bottom of Madeley Road.

Today nothing of the building survives, but old photographs show a classic two-storey frontage sitting tight to the pavement, part of a now-vanished streetscape swept away in the redevelopment years.

Bird in Hand — Waterloo Street, Ironbridge

First recorded as Bird in Hand: 1871

Earlier names (local tradition only): “The Lamb” / “The Hat & Lamb”

Closed: 2020 — now a private house.

The Bird in Hand was one of the best-loved pubs on Waterloo Street, serving the tight hillside community between the Wharfage and Madeley Road. The first definite documentary record comes in the 1871 census, where it appears as the Bird in Hand Inn with Edward Jones, fitter, listed as landlord.

The pub was once known as The Lamb, and later as The Hat & Lamb, linked to the Shingler family who were hat-makers — it has cellars underneath that are a similar design to Buildwas Abbey.

Known Landlords & Trades

• 1871 — Edward Jones, fitter, landlord when first recorded as Bird in Hand

• 1891 — John Bate, iron moulder, publican

• 1901 — Thomas Henry Jones, brickworks labourer, publican

• 1911 — John Beddow, tile presser, publican

• Late 20th century — Bill, Hazel & Steve, landlords for 33 years, the longest-serving in Ironbridge

A proper Waterloo Street workers’ pub: in the 19th and early 20th centuries, Waterloo Street was a lively, crowded mix of small workshops, cottages, pubs, corner shops and lodgings for boatmen and ironworkers.

The Bird in Hand wasn’t a coaching inn or a hotel — it was a street pub, the kind of place where you popped in after a shift or met neighbours for a quiet pint. It formed part of a small run of pubs on the street, including the Crown, the Blockhouse and the Robin Hood.

Later life and long-serving landlords: in the late 20th century the pub enjoyed remarkable stability under Bill, Hazel and Steve, who ran it for 33 years, making them the longest-serving landlords in Ironbridge. Locals remember the cosy front bar, the hillside beer garden, charity nights and parties, and Bill’s huge collection of framed photos of the Iron Bridge, taken by the very talented local photographer Graham Hickman.

When the pub closed around the pandemic period, regulars held a quiet final gathering in the garden — bringing their own drinks so as not to break rules, but determined not to let it end without a send-off.

Ye Olde Robin Hood — 33 Waterloo Street (early 19thC–present)

First recorded: early 19th century

Still trading: Yes

Long-linked to: The Owen brewing family

The Robin Hood sits near the bottom of Waterloo Street, close to the site of the historic Free Bridge — directly opposite where the Dog & Duck once stood on the Jackfield bank. It has always been one of the area’s most characterful little pubs.

In the early 20th century it was kept by Edwin “Ted” Owen, a famously short landlord whose sign above the door read: “Now that Robin Hood is dead, come and drink with Little Ted.”

The Owen family were a pub dynasty in Ironbridge and Jackfield: Ted’s sister Hannah Owen ran the Railway Tavern; their father George Owen ran the Foresters Arms; their ancestors kept the Coopers Arms at Severnside; and their great-niece Emmie Goodwin later ran the Horse & Jockey.

The Robin Hood is one of the very few pubs in the parish to survive the 20th-century demolitions, landslips and redevelopments. Today it remains open — a proper old Ironbridge pub still in its original building and still very much part of the community.

Dog & Duck — Jackfield (1654–c.1940, demolished)

Location: Jackfield riverbank, immediately beside the former Coalport / Free Bridge.

The Dog & Duck was one of the oldest and most atmospheric inns in the whole parish. Built in 1654 for Adam and Margaret Crumpton, the original structure was a long, low, timber-framed building right on the river’s edge, facing Ironbridge across the Severn.

Carved beneath its bedroom windows was the inscription: “C.A.M. May 30 1654” — the initials of Crumpton, Adam and Margaret.

A riverside pub tied to ferrymen and river trade: the Crumpton family were ferrymen as early as the 1680s, and the Dog & Duck sat a few yards from the earlier Jackfield–Coalport ferry crossing. Its customers were the people who lived and worked along the river: boatmen, clay workers, potters from Coalport, and locals using the ferry before any bridge existed at this spot.

The connection to the river lasted generations. In 1851, not far from the site of the Dog & Duck, a William Crumpton is recorded as proprietor of the nearby Ferry Boat Inn, showing how long the family dominated the trade here.

By the 19th century the pub was run for decades by Edward and Caroline Williams, later passing to their daughter Dora and her husband Richard Evans until the early 1890s. The building was by then very old and already described as “a long, low range of half-timber dwellings.”

The Dog & Duck’s licence was not renewed in 1892, after which the building remained as cottages.

The Dog & Duck was still operating as a pub as late as 1939, but its precarious position on the unstable riverbank meant it did not survive much longer. It was demolished around 1940, by which time it had been partly converted into three cottages.

Black Swan (Dirty Duck) — Lloyds Head, Jackfield (mid-19thC–present)

Established: by mid-19th century

Still trading: Yes

Nickname: “The Dirty Duck” (local, unofficial)

Location: Jackfield riverside, near the old sidings and pottery works

The Black Swan is one of Jackfield’s few surviving Victorian riverside pubs — a classic, no-nonsense local that served generations of tilemakers, boatmen and railwaymen. Its official name has always been The Black Swan, and that is the only name shown on the pub sign even today.

The “Dirty Duck” nickname: for decades locals have called it the Dirty Duck, a nickname that became so widely used it’s now the name most people think of first. But it has never appeared on the inn sign, and it has never been its legal name. Where the nickname comes from isn’t clear: some say it came from the coal dust and river mud that once coated everything in Jackfield, others say boatmen joked that the swans by the wharf were always filthy, some simply say the pub was “a bit rough round the edges, in a good way” and the name stuck. Whatever the source, the nickname belongs to the people, not the signboard.

A survivor of Jackfield’s industrial landscape: the Black Swan outlived the Dog & Duck, the Duke of Wellington and the Tumbling Sailor. It remains one of the very few pubs in Jackfield still trading in its original building — a true fragment of the old industrial village.

Inside, it keeps the atmosphere of a proper working pub: river views, no pretensions, and a crowd of locals who keep the nickname alive even though the sign never has.

Half Moon — 174 Salthouse Road, Jackfield (1840–present)

The Half Moon at Jackfield began life in 1840, built on the footprint of an earlier coach house that served the old riverside road. In a village that once boasted twelve pubs, the Half Moon was one of the most important stopping points for potters, boatmen, railwaymen and locals moving between Coalport and Ironbridge.

Its early 20th-century history is inseparable from the Davies family, who held the licence for an astonishing thirty-five years. William Davies took over in the early 1900s and remained at the helm until his death in 1938. The well-known 1915 photograph of the pub almost certainly shows members of his family gathered outside.

Later, the pub entered another long and much-loved era under Alf and Annie Skitt, who ran the Half Moon until the early 1980s. They retired to Coalport just before the road collapse that dramatically changed Jackfield’s landscape.

The Half Moon’s most famous relic is the giant Coalport pottery jug. The landlord once challenged the Coalport China Works to make a jug “as big as a man could manage,” promising to fill it with ale if they succeeded. They did — he did — and the locals drank it dry. After a great flood washed it downstream, villagers recovered what they could, glued it back together, and returned it to the pub. It now lives at the Museum of Iron in Coalbrookdale.

Beside the pub ran “The Mekest”, the straight road where workers sprinted to reach the factory gates at Maws and Craven Dunnill before the siren stopped. Five minutes late meant losing a day’s pay.

Despite landslips and road realignments, the Half Moon has survived, expanded and still trades today — one of the last living links to Jackfield’s industrial riverside.

The Brewery Inn — Coalport High Street (early–mid 19thC–present, Grade II listed)

The Brewery Inn in High Street was once a 19th century brewery. A ramp at the rear was used for loading and unloading beer barrels on river barges — it still sells Brewery Gold cask ale in addition to the proprietary brands.

It is a traditional family pub with an adjacent riverside summer holiday cottage and an enclosed patio terrace with fine views over the river. The large car park even has tie rings, a mounting block and fresh water for horses and day tickets are available for anglers.

Designated a Grade II listed building in 1974.

Early/mid C19 range of cottages. Buff brick. Tiled roof at various levels. Two storeys. Fourteen windows. Small segmental arched window openings with casements and horizontal pivot windows with glazing bars. Plank doors. Segmental arched cartway at centre. Brick ridge stacks.

Sitting proudly on Coalport High Street, the Brewery Inn is one of the few riverside pubs whose industrial past is still written into its brickwork. The building itself dates from the early–mid 19th century (c.1830–1850) and was officially designated Grade II in 1974.

Back when Coalport’s river trade was booming, the Brewery Inn really was a brewery. A ramp at the rear allowed barrels to be rolled straight down to waiting trows on the Severn.

Fast-forward to today and the Brewery Inn has risen again — not as an untouched old tavern, but as a freshly refurbished riverside pub about to reopen its doors. Its new incarnation keeps the spirit of the old name alive while stepping confidently into the present. The views are still unbeatable, the river still glides by only feet away, and those old Grade II–listed walls carry nearly two centuries of Coalport’s working life.

George & Dragon — 15 Madeley Road (early 19thC–20thC, building survives as a house)

The George & Dragon was one of Madeley Wood’s most traditional old inns, first appearing in early 19th-century records and listed in Pigot’s 1829 Directory under landlord Matt Thompson. Its sign — Saint George slaying the dragon — was one of the most widely recognised pub emblems in England, and perfectly suited a district packed with miners, forgemen and industrial labourers.

The pub served generations of Madeley Wood families and played a sombre role in local history: after the 1864 “Nine Men of Madeley” mining disaster, the bodies of some of the men were first brought here before the inquest was moved to the police station on Waterloo Road.

By the late 20th century the George & Dragon had closed and been converted into a private home. The building is Grade II listed and still stands today, its distinctive early-19th-century frontage unchanged — a rare surviving Madeley Wood alehouse in domestic use.

Golden Ball — 1 Newbridge Road, Ironbridge (licensed 1728–present)

First licensed in 1728, the Golden Ball is one of the oldest surviving pubs anywhere in the Ironbridge Gorge. Sitting on Wesley Road (once called Thieve Street), it served miners, ferrymen and ironworkers long before the Bridge was even famous.

The name “Golden Ball” is one of the oldest inn signs in Britain. It originally came from the emblem of medieval silk-mercers — a golden orb used on their shop fronts — though no silk-working tradition exists in Ironbridge. The sign simply became fashionable and was adopted widely.

Edward Wallett, one of the famous “Nine Men of Madeley”, lived close by with his family, and the Golden Ball would have been one of the nearest houses of refreshment for men working the pits and brickyards across the hillside.

Uniquely, the Golden Ball has never closed. It remains a thriving Grade II listed pub with rooms, full of character, old brickwork, and a sense of age that almost no other inn in the Gorge can match.

Horse & Jockey — 15 Jockey Bank (19thC–2020)

The Horse & Jockey was another of Madeley Wood’s well-used working pubs, serving a district once packed with collieries, clay pits and workers’ rows. It appears in 19th-century directory entries, including Pigot’s 1829 list, and survived long enough to become one of the better-remembered Madeley Wood houses.

It was kept by Mrs Davies in the Victorian period and later by members of the Owen/Goodwin family — the same brewing dynasty who ran the Robin Hood, Railway Tavern and Coopers Arms across the parish. Emmie Goodwin, great-niece of Hannah Owen of the Railway Tavern, became one of its best-known landladies.

The Horse & Jockey closed in 2020, but it remained well remembered for its tight-knit clientele and strong links to the working families of Madeley Wood. Although the building no longer trades as a pub, its name still appears in local histories as one of the parish’s characteristic “sporting inns”.

The Unicorn — 6 Newbridge Road, Ironbridge (mid-19thC–20thC, private residence)

The Unicorn stood on Newbridge Road, high above the river on the steep slope between Bedlam Furnaces and the Coalport Road. It was a classic Madeley Wood hillside beerhouse, serving the workers of Bedlam, the Foundry Cottages, and the families who lived along Newbridge Road.

The pub is firmly evidenced in 19th-century licensing records, including transfers which name its landlord as Frederick Fiddler, confirming both the pub and its location in Ironbridge rather than Jackfield. Multiple period sources also place it close to Shingler’s Bank, a name derived from the Shingler family — local hat-makers whose workshop helped give the area its identity.

Old aerial photographs from the 1930s support the location: the Unicorn stood roughly opposite No. 52 Newbridge Road (the Rock Chapel), on the stretch where cottages once stepped sharply down the hillside.

The building itself had the typical appearance of a small Madeley Wood beerhouse — plain frontage, tight to the lane, and attached to a short row of cottages.

The Unicorn traded well into the early 20th century before closing and eventually being turned into a private residence.

Bath Tavern — Bath Road, Ironbridge

First recorded: 1851

Closed: 20th century

Now: Private house

The Bath Tavern once stood on Bath Road, serving the small hillside community between Church Hill and the Wharfage. Its earliest confirmed appearance is in the 1851 census, where Frederick Poole is listed as the publican.

It was never one of the large Ironbridge inns — more a traditional beerhouse catering for local residents and workers travelling between Madeley Bank and the river. Nothing dramatic appears in the records, and it likely served quietly for several decades before closing in the early-to-mid 20th century.

Unlike many of Ironbridge’s lost pubs, the Bath Tavern was not demolished. The old building survives today as a private house, its simple façade still betraying its origins as a no-nonsense working person’s pub.

The Oak — Church Hill, Ironbridge

First recorded: early 19th century

Closed: late 19th / early 20th century

Now: Private house

The Oak stood on Church Hill, just above the junction with Madeley Road. It appears consistently in 19th-century pub lists and directories, including the famous parish survey that grouped it among Ironbridge’s “well-known inns.”

One of its recorded landlords was Ketley (surname only appears in the 19th-century signboard list), placing it firmly in the early–mid Victorian period. Like many Church Hill pubs, it served the dense community living between St Luke’s Road, the Blue School, and the terraced houses climbing toward Lincoln Hill.

The pub eventually closed around the turn of the 20th century, but the building is still there today — privately owned, not demolished — making it one of the street’s best-preserved former alehouses.

The Crown — 10 Hodge Bower, Ironbridge

First recorded: early 19th century

Closed: mid-20th century

Now: Converted into residential apartments

Historic features: Ironbridge Pleasure Gardens & Observatory

The Crown stood partway along Hodge Bower, a Banks’ house in its later years and a well-used locals’ pub before its closure and eventual conversion into homes.

In the early 20th century it was run by Flow and Walter Chubb, whose names remained over the door for decades. When the pub finally closed, its original signboard was rescued, lovingly repainted, and now hangs at Crown View — one of the few surviving physical traces of the old inn.

Across the road from the pub lay its biggest claim to fame: the Ironbridge Pleasure Gardens.

In the 1870s, landlord Thomas B. Martin transformed the steep land opposite into a spectacular Victorian viewpoint garden designed to draw customers uphill. At its height the grounds offered sweeping views over the Gorge, terraces, walkways, and — most unusually — a telescope housed in a purpose-built observatory. Contemporary OS maps show the structure clearly, perched to overlook the river and Iron Bridge.

After the turn of the 20th century the gardens shifted use, becoming a market garden from around 1900 into the 1940s. Eventually the land was sold and absorbed into the private gardens of Church Hill houses.

The observatory itself still just survives. According to the Historic Environment Record (PRN 32530), the ivy-covered, partially collapsed remains of the little telescope building can still be made out from above, its pyramidal roof timbers detectable on aerial imagery (what3words: upstarts.readjust.greet).

Though the pub has long since closed, the Crown’s unusual hillside setting — complete with its Victorian gardens and forgotten observatory — makes it one of the most distinctive and historically layered former inns in the parish.

White Horse — Lincoln Hill (18thC–2018, now closed)

The White Horse stood on Lincoln Hill, serving the scattered cottages, quarrymen and lime-workers who lived across the wooded slopes between Ironbridge and Madeley.

It appears on maps from the early 1800s and was a long-established stopping point on the old road leading down towards the Gorge.

The pub gained a little local fame in the 20th century thanks to the Thackray family. Several locals remember Jake Thackray (the name often mis-spelt as “Thackery”) keeping the pub for a time. His brother Richard Thackray was the well-known folk singer and television performer of the 1960s and 70s — a connection that added to the pub’s character and gave it a strong musical following.

Whether Jake was landlord or simply helped run it depends who you ask, but the association is widely remembered in Lincoln Hill and Ironbridge.

By the mid-20th century the pub was run by J. H. Dodd, whose name appears above the door in one of the oldest surviving photographs.

The modern building, with its whitewashed gable facing the road, remained a familiar landmark until the 2010s.

After centuries of trade, the White Horse finally closed in 2018, becoming one of the last Lincoln Hill pubs to disappear.

Its sign — the rearing white horse — still appears in many historic photographs, a reminder of a once-busy little pub on the quieter side of the Gorge.

Three Horse Shoes — High Street, Madeley

First recorded: 1749

Closed: 1968

Demolished: 1970

The Three Horse Shoes was one of the oldest — and once the most recognisable — pubs in Madeley. Its sign was considered the oldest inn sign in the parish, hanging above a very early house built of rubble, mud and plaster.

The name comes from the traditional belief that a horseshoe nailed above a doorway brought good luck, and the Three Horse Shoes carried this symbolism proudly for more than two centuries.

An early account describes the sign as “one of the oldest in the kingdom,” a nod to its long-standing place in Madeley’s working life.

In the 19th century it was kept by J. H. Robinson, and for generations it served as a community pub on the top stretch of the High Street.

By the late 1960s the building was in decline, and the pub finally closed in 1968. It was demolished shortly afterwards during the redevelopment around the Anstice, disappearing completely from the streetscape.

Today nothing survives of the building — but its name remains one of the most historically significant in Madeley’s long pub list.

Six Bells — Church Street, Madeley (19thC–present)

The Six Bells stands on Church Street, Madeley, directly opposite St Michael’s Church — and its name comes straight from the sound of that tower. When the pub was first established, St Michael’s rang with a peal of six bells, and the inn adopted the number as its signboard.

Later, after the First and Second World Wars, the parish raised money by public subscription to increase the bells to eight, in memory of local people who had died — but the pub kept its historic name.

Through the 19th and 20th centuries the Six Bells remained a classic community local, serving the families who lived around Madeley’s old village core.

Unlike many parish pubs that vanished through slum clearance and redevelopment, the Six Bells survived, modernised and kept its place in the neighbourhood.

Today it remains open, with an L-shaped interior divided between lounge seating and a bar with darts and sports, a beer garden to the rear, and a large car park.

Its position — a short walk from Blists Hill Victorian Town and directly opposite the historic church and graveyard — makes it one of the few Madeley pubs still trading in its original setting.

Wheatsheaf — Madeley (early 19thC–early 20thC, demolished)

The Wheatsheaf was one of Madeley’s small working pubs, first clearly recorded in Pigot’s Directory of 1829, where Aaron Lloyd appears as the landlord.

It stood somewhere within the old Madeley village core — probably in the Court Street / Church Street cluster that once had a tight row of beerhouses serving miners, ironworkers and labourers from the surrounding pits and forges.

The sign of a wheatsheaf was a classic rural pub name, symbolising harvest, breadmaking and prosperity, and it was especially common in agricultural districts like Madeley before the industrial boom.

Nothing suggests the Wheatsheaf was a coaching inn or a large establishment; all evidence points to a modest beerhouse supplying ale to local families.

By the early 20th century the Wheatsheaf had vanished from licensing records, one of many small Madeley pubs closed under tightening licensing laws and later swept away entirely during the slum clearances and road improvements of the 1930s–60s.

No part of the building survives, and its exact plot has been lost in redevelopment.

All that remains now is the documentary record — a reminder that Madeley once had dozens of tiny alehouses packed into its lanes, long before the landscape changed forever.

What survives of the parish’s drinking places now is only a fragment of what once was. A handful still trade, some stand quietly as private homes, and many more exist only as names in directories, memories in family stories, or faint outlines on old maps.

Yet taken together, these pubs chart the rise, decline and transformation of Ironbridge, Madeley Wood, Jackfield and Coalport more vividly.