The Swan & Cemetery, perched on Bradshawgate in Bolton, dates to the 17th century as an inn, its current whitewashed shell rebuilt in the 1840s near Tonge Cemetery’s gates. A weathered local haunt, it served mourners and mill workers, its name a grim nod to the graves across the road. Still pouring pints today, its dark past brews Bolton ghost stories that linger in its creaky bar.
The pub thrived as Bolton spun cotton and buried its dead, its taproom a stop for funeral parties and laborers from the nearby Irwell Valley mills. A survivor of industrial decline and urban sprawl, it’s a rough gem—some say with spirits still drowning sorrows. The Swan & Cemetery fuses Bolton’s history with a haunted chill, drawing fans of Bolton ghost stories and pub lore.
One eerie tale tells of The Weeping Widow, a 19th-century mourner who drank herself to death here after losing her family to cholera. Her soft sobs drift near the fireplace, and a veiled figure sits—patrons feel a cold hand. Another story spins The Gravedigger’s Shovel, a worker who fell into an open grave in 1860, drunk. His faint scraping echoes outside, and dirt trails—staff see a shadow with a spade. These Bolton ghost stories shroud The Swan & Cemetery in a spectral haze, its grim charm alive with the past.