Blundell Arms

The Blundell Arms is one of those wonderfully ancient public houses, and sits on the main road between Horwich and Chorley. Although its official Historic England listing states that it is seventeenth- and nineteenth-century in its construction, I detected some older elements of the building. It served good, if rather expensive, fayre, and the staff felt the need to walk around wearing Pride-themed lanyards which seemed unnecessary. Nevertheless, this wearisome 2020s intrusion barely stilted the olde worlde atmosphere. And whether or not we like its décor or its heritage, it provides us with the means by which our bellies are filled and bodies nourished. Pubs are not far behind churches and chapels in their struggle to survive, yet the former offer nourishment, too, but of a spiritual kind. He who will not eat, dies; he who will not feed on God’s word is dead already.

Ho! all ye hungry, starving souls,
That feed upon the wind,
And vainly strive with earthly toys
To fill an empty mind;

Eternal Wisdom has prepared
A soul-reviving feast;
And bids your longing appetites
The rich provision taste.

Ho! ye that pant for living streams,
And pine away and die;
Here you may quench your raging thirst,
With springs that never dry.

Rivers of love and mercy here
In a rich ocean join;
Salvation in abundance flows,
Like floods of milk and wine.

Isaac Watts, No 56 in Gadsby's Hymns