The Viaduct Tavern
A Victorian gin palace built on the site of Newgate Prison where condemned prisoners' cells remain in the basement and ghostly women haunt the bar.
The Viaduct Tavern
The Viaduct Tavern, built in 1869, stands directly opposite the Old Bailey on the site of the notorious Newgate Prison, one of London’s most brutal detention facilities where thousands suffered and died over the centuries. The pub’s cellars contain the actual holding cells from Newgate Prison, complete with iron doors and chains still attached to the walls, and these underground spaces are the epicenter of intense paranormal activity. Staff descending to change barrels have reported being grabbed by invisible hands, hearing anguished screams and the rattling of chains, and seeing shadow figures huddled in the corners of the cells. One landlord famously refused to ever go into the cellars alone after being locked in one of the cells by an unseen force, the iron door slamming shut and refusing to open until other staff members heard his desperate shouts.
The upper levels of the pub are haunted by several distinct spirits, most notably the apparition of a woman in Victorian dress who manifests near the bar area before gliding through the ornate interior and vanishing. She is believed to be a former barmaid or possibly the wife of an early landlord, and witnesses describe her as appearing solid and real until she walks through a wall or piece of furniture. Another female spirit, known as “Peeping Maud,” has been seen looking through the pub’s windows from the outside, her face pale and expression mournful, though she disappears when anyone approaches the window to get a better look. The pub’s stunning Victorian interior, with its elaborate mirrors and painted ceilings, seems to act as a portal for these spirits, with many reporting seeing figures in the mirrors that aren’t physically present in the room.
The paranormal activity at The Viaduct Tavern has been extensively documented by ghost hunters and journalists over the years. Glasses move on their own, electrical equipment malfunctions without explanation, and there are persistent cold spots that cannot be attributed to drafts or ventilation. During quiet periods, staff and patrons have heard the sounds of a busy Victorian-era pub coming from empty rooms, complete with laughter, conversation, and the clink of glasses. The building’s history as London’s first gin palace, combined with its literal foundation on the site of a prison where condemned men spent their final hours before being publicly hanged, creates layers of tragedy and suffering that manifest in the ongoing supernatural phenomena experienced by all who enter this historic but deeply haunted establishment.