The George Inn, Southwark

The George Inn stands as London’s last surviving galleried coaching inn, a remarkable piece of living history dating back to at least 1542. Now owned by the National Trust, the building’s centuries of service to travelers, merchants, actors, and locals have left behind a rich tapestry of supernatural activity. The most frequently reported ghost is that of a woman in Victorian dress who appears on the upper galleries, walking slowly along the wooden balconies as if searching for someone before disappearing through walls or simply fading from view. Witnesses describe her as appearing deeply sad, and some have reported feeling overwhelming waves of grief when encountering her presence. She is believed to be waiting for a lover or family member who never returned from a journey that began at the inn.

The coaching yard, once bustling with horses and carriages, now serves as a peaceful courtyard for drinkers, but the sounds of the past frequently echo through this space. Staff and patrons have reported hearing the clatter of hooves on cobblestones, the crack of whips, and the shouts of coachmen calling out destinations, though no physical source for these sounds can be found. The ghost of a stable boy has been seen in the areas where horses were once kept, appearing as a young lad in period clothing who seems to be going about his duties of tending to invisible animals. He appears most often in the early morning hours and has been known to startle early-rising staff who encounter him before he vanishes into thin air.

The George Inn’s theatrical connections, it was mentioned by Charles Dickens in “Little Dorrit” and Shakespeare’s players may have performed in its yard, add another dimension to its hauntings. Actors in period costume have been reported appearing in rooms and on staircases, sometimes seeming to perform scenes from unknown plays before disappearing. The building’s multiple levels, maze-like corridors, and ancient rooms each seem to hold different spirits and energies. Guests staying in the accommodation have reported furniture moving on its own, the sound of footsteps pacing outside their doors when corridors are empty, and the sensation of someone sitting on their beds in the night. Cold spots appear and disappear, doors open and close without human intervention, and the overwhelming feeling that the building is perpetually occupied by more than just the living creates an atmosphere where the past and present seem to exist simultaneously.