What Is The Oldest Pub In London
Alright, let’s settle a bar stool debate. The oldest pub in London isn’t just a place to grab a pint; it’s a living, breathing slice of history that’s seen kings, plagues, and far too many questionable karaoke nights. The crown, by most accounts, belongs to The Ye Olde Mitre, tucked away in a sneaky little alley near Hatton Garden. But fair warning—this isn’t a pub you stumble into. You have to know it’s there, like a secret handshake for thirsty time travelers.
Built in 1546 for the servants of the Bishop of Ely, this place has a vibe that screams “I’ve been here before you were a twinkle in your great-great-granddad’s eye.” Legend has it that Queen Elizabeth I herself danced around a cherry tree on this very spot. Yes, a cherry tree—because when you’re royalty, you don’t just sit; you boogie under fruit-bearing branches.
Hold your horses—what about the others?
Now, The Ye Olde Mitre is a top contender, but London’s pub timeline is messy. Think of it as a historical drinking contest with no clear winner. You’ve got The Angel in Rotherhithe, which claims to date back to the 12th century—yes, the 1100s—but the building you see today was rebuilt in the 17th century. It’s like your favorite jeans: original idea, but patched up a few times.
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Then there’s The Seven Stars near the Royal Courts of Justice, open since 1602. It’s survived the Great Fire of London, the Blitz, and a shocking number of lawyers. Honestly, that last one deserves a medal. But The Ye Olde Mitre edges them out because it’s never been rebuilt. The walls still look like they’re plotting something, and the ceiling beams have more stories than your drunk uncle at a wedding.
Why is it so hard to pin down?
Here’s the thing: London’s oldest pub debate is like arguing over the best kind of hangover cure—everyone has their favorite, and logic gets fuzzy fast. Records from the 1500s were often lost in fires, wars, or because someone spilled ale on them. (Priorities, people!) What we do know is that The Ye Olde Mitre has a continuous license since 1546, which makes it the longest-running boozer without a major rebuild.
So if you want pure, unadulterated oldness—complete with creaky floors and a fireplace that looks like it could roast a dragon—this is your spot. Just don’t expect Wi-Fi. You’ll have to talk to strangers, which is how pubs used to work before smartphones ruined everything.
What makes it so special?
Walking into The Ye Olde Mitre feels like stepping into a cozy time machine. The bar is tiny—like, “excuse me, pardon me, is that your elbow in my pint?” tiny. There’s a fireplace that crackles with ancient secrets, and the beer is served with a side of genuine pub charm. No loud music, no TVs showing football. Just the sound of clinking glasses and one person loudly explaining why Brexit was a bad idea.
The real gem? A police box built into the wall outside. Yes, a literal, 1920s police telephone box. It’s not bigger on the inside (sorry, Doctor Who fans), but it’s a reminder that this pub has watched London evolve from horse-drawn carriages to Uber Eats. The cherry tree Queen Liz danced around is also still part of the legend, though the original tree is long gone. They’ve got a little plaque to prove it wasn’t all a boozy hallucination.

But wait—is it the actual oldest?
Technically, The Lamb & Flag in Covent Garden claims to be “one of the oldest,” having served ale since the 1600s. But its current building is a Victorian rebuild, so it’s more like a historical remake. Then you’ve got The Spaniards Inn on Hampstead Heath, dating to 1585 and beloved by highwaymen. Romantic, sure, but not as unflinching as The Ye Olde Mitre.
For sheer, unbroken ancientness, the winner is The Ye Olde Mitre. It’s the pub equivalent of that friend who still uses a flip phone—stubborn, charming, and impossible to argue with. And yes, they do serve modern IPAs. Progress can be delicious.
So, should you visit?
Absolutely, yes—like, stop reading and go yes. But here’s the catch: it’s hidden in a narrow alley off Ely Place, near the Hatton Garden tube station. You will walk past it three times. You will consult Google Maps. You will wonder if you’ve entered a parallel universe where pubs have cloaking devices. Pro tip: look for an archway with a sign that says “Ye Olde Mitre.” It’s not subtle—it’s just old.
Once inside, order a pint of real ale and toast to the five centuries of drunks who came before you. Feel the history in the wood grain. Contemplate how many plague shipments, royal scandals, and “I love you, man” confessions this place has overheard. It’s a little humbling, actually.
The uplifting bottom line
In a world that changes faster than a Snapchat filter, The Ye Olde Mitre stands as a stubborn, beautiful reminder that some things are worth preserving: good beer, good company, and a roof that’s survived everything from Oliver Cromwell to the 2012 Olympics. It’s not fancy. It’s not Instagram-ready (though try it anyway; the lighting is tragic). But it’s real.
So next time you’re in London, skip the tourist traps and find this little gem. Grab a stool, make a new friend, and leave your modern worries at the door. Because the oldest pub in London isn’t just about the past—it’s about proving that the simple joy of a shared pint, in a warm room with a fire, is timeless. And that, my friend, is worth raising a glass to. Cheers to you, you glorious time traveler. 🍺
