The Gatehouse

At the crest of Highgate Hill, where the old road from London climbs to its highest point before descending toward the north, stands a pub whose history stretches back over 350 years. The Gatehouse takes its name from the toll gate that once stood nearby, marking the boundary where travelers would pay for the privilege of passage. But in the 17th and 18th centuries, there were those who exacted a different kind of toll—the highwaymen who haunted Hampstead Heath and the roads around Highgate, robbing travelers at gunpoint, disappearing into the darkness before pursuit could be organized. According to legend, one such highwayman was captured and held at the Gatehouse before his execution, and his restless spirit has never departed. Staff and patrons report seeing a dark figure in period clothing, complete with tricorn hat and cape, watching from windows or moving through the building. They hear the phantom hoofbeats of his horse approaching in the dead of night. And they sense his presence in rooms that grow suddenly cold, in glasses that move without cause, in the tap of invisible fingers on unwitting shoulders. The Gatehouse sits within sight of Highgate Cemetery, one of London’s most haunted places, and its spectral highwayman seems entirely at home in this neighborhood of the dead.

The Location

The Gatehouse occupies one of the most storied locations in North London, at the apex of Highgate Hill where several historically significant roads converge.

Highgate itself takes its name from the high gate that once controlled access to this elevated position, collecting tolls from travelers using the road between London and the north. The village that grew up around this gate became one of the most desirable residential areas near the capital, its elevation providing clean air, fine views, and escape from the crowded city below.

But elevation also made Highgate dangerous. The roads climbing the hill were steep and difficult, forcing travelers to slow their pace or stop entirely. The surrounding heath provided ample cover for those with criminal intent. And the isolation meant that cries for help would go unheard, that pursuit would be hampered by the same difficult terrain that slowed the victims.

These conditions made the Highgate area a favorite hunting ground for highwaymen throughout the 17th and 18th centuries. The “Gentlemen of the Road” who robbed travelers at pistol point became legendary figures, romanticized in popular culture even as they terrorized the roads of England.

The Gatehouse has stood through all of this history, serving travelers, locals, and—according to legend—those who would rob them.

The Highwaymen

Understanding the ghost of the Gatehouse requires understanding the highwaymen who once made these roads their hunting ground.

Highwaymen were mounted robbers who targeted travelers on isolated roads, typically working at night when identification was difficult and escape easier. The golden age of the highwayman ran from the Restoration period through the early 19th century, when improved roads, better policing, and the enclosure of common lands made their trade increasingly untenable.

The archetype of the highwayman was romantic: a gentleman criminal, polite and courteous, who robbed the wealthy while leaving the poor unmolested. Some highwaymen cultivated this image deliberately, understanding that a reputation for civility might encourage cooperation and reduce resistance. A traveler who believed they would be robbed but not harmed might hand over valuables more readily than one who feared for their life.

But the reality was often darker. Many highwaymen were violent criminals who thought nothing of murder. Their victims included not just wealthy travelers but anyone who seemed to have anything worth taking. And their ends were typically grim: capture, imprisonment, and public execution, their bodies left hanging on gibbets as warnings to others who might contemplate the same career.

Hampstead Heath and the roads around Highgate were notorious for highwayman activity. The combination of wealthy travelers, difficult terrain, and ample cover made the area a natural choice for road robbery. Dozens of highwaymen worked these roads over the centuries, and many met their ends in the area as well.

The Legend

According to local tradition, one particular highwayman left his mark on the Gatehouse in a way that persists to this day.

The specific details of the legend vary in different tellings. Some versions name the highwayman; others leave him anonymous. Some place his crimes in the 17th century; others in the 18th. What remains consistent is the outline of the story.

A highwayman who had long terrorized the roads around Highgate was finally captured. Rather than being taken to Newgate Prison in London, he was held at the Gatehouse, perhaps because his captors feared his associates might attempt a rescue, or perhaps because local justice demanded local punishment.

While held at the Gatehouse, the highwayman was kept in the upper rooms, confined and awaiting his fate. He may have attempted escape. He may have cursed his captors. He may have maintained the defiant bravado that highwaymen cultivated as part of their legend.

In the end, he was hanged—either at the Gatehouse itself or nearby, where his body could serve as a warning to those contemplating similar crimes. His execution ended his mortal career, but according to legend, it did not end his presence at the Gatehouse.

The highwayman returned. Or perhaps he never left.

The Apparition

The ghost of the highwayman manifests most commonly as a visual apparition, a dark figure in period clothing that appears both inside the pub and in the surrounding area.

Witnesses describe a man dressed in the style of the 18th century: a long coat or cape, the distinctive tricorn hat that became associated with the period, dark clothing suited to someone who worked at night. His face is typically obscured or indistinct, visible enough to convey presence but not enough to permit identification.

The apparition appears in various locations. Inside the pub, he is most commonly seen near windows facing the old road, as if still watching for approaching travelers—potential victims, or perhaps the law enforcement who eventually caught him. He appears in the upper rooms where legend says he was held, sometimes moving through walls or vanishing when approached.

Outside the pub, the figure appears on the road or in the shadows of the surrounding buildings. Some witnesses describe him mounted on a spectral horse; others see him on foot. His behavior suggests vigilance, attention, the watchfulness of someone always looking for opportunity or threat.

The apparition is not aggressive in most accounts. He watches, he appears, he vanishes. He does not threaten those who see him. But his presence is unsettling nonetheless—the ghost of a criminal, a man who lived by violence and died by the law.

The Hoofbeats

One of the most distinctive phenomena associated with the Gatehouse is the sound of phantom hoofbeats approaching the building.

Witnesses describe hearing a horse approaching at speed, the rhythmic thunder of hooves on the old road surface. The sound grows louder as if the rider is approaching the pub, then stops abruptly—either cutting off suddenly or fading away without the sound of arrival or departure that would normally follow.

These phantom hoofbeats are heard most often late at night, in the quiet hours when the pub is closed and the streets are empty. They are heard by staff finishing up after service, by neighbors returning home, by anyone awake and attentive in the small hours when the ghost is most active.

The hoofbeats are attributed to the highwayman’s horse, still carrying its master toward victims he will never again rob. Or perhaps the sounds represent the final ride—the desperate flight before capture, when the highwayman made his last attempt to escape justice before being brought to ground.

Horses have not been a common feature of Highgate’s streets for many decades, making the sounds unmistakable to those who hear them. There is no natural explanation, no plausible source for the sound of a galloping horse in modern North London.

The Upper Rooms

The upper floors of the Gatehouse are associated with the most intense paranormal activity, consistent with the legend that the highwayman was held there before his execution.

Staff members who work in these areas report frequent unexplained phenomena. Objects move on their own, shifting from one location to another when no one is watching. Doors open and close without visible cause, sometimes repeatedly, as if someone is pacing from room to room.

The atmosphere in these upper rooms can change suddenly and dramatically. Warmth becomes cold without temperature change in the heating system. Light areas become shadowed without change in the electric lights. The feeling of being watched settles on those present, an awareness of observation by someone who cannot be seen.

Some staff members avoid the upper rooms when possible, sending newer or braver colleagues to deal with whatever needs attention there. Others have learned to work through the phenomena, treating the unexplained events as simply part of the job. A few have reported speaking aloud to the ghost, acknowledging his presence, and feeling the atmosphere lighten afterward—as if the highwayman appreciates recognition.

The Bar Phenomena

The bar area of the Gatehouse, the heart of the pub’s operation, experiences its own share of unexplained activity.

Glasses slide on surfaces without apparent cause, moving from one position to another while staff watch in disbelief. The movement is deliberate, not the gradual drift that might be attributed to condensation or vibration. Glasses move as if someone is pushing them.

Taps turn on unexpectedly, beer flowing onto the floor before staff can respond. Lights flicker. The temperature drops suddenly and locally, creating cold spots that move through the room or remain fixed in specific locations.

Patrons have reported feeling tapped on the shoulder or touched on the arm by invisible hands. Some describe the sensation as playful, as if the ghost is amusing himself at their expense. Others find it deeply unsettling, the touch of something that cannot be seen reminding them that they share the space with the dead.

The phenomena in the bar area are more interactive than elsewhere in the building, suggesting a ghost that retains awareness of the living and chooses to make its presence known. Whether this represents the highwayman himself or some other spirit associated with the building’s long history is impossible to determine.

The Cemetery Connection

The Gatehouse stands in close proximity to Highgate Cemetery, one of the most famous and most haunted burial grounds in London.

Highgate Cemetery was established in 1839 as part of a ring of new cemeteries designed to relieve pressure on London’s overcrowded churchyards. It became the fashionable resting place for Victorian London’s elite, and its Gothic architecture and overgrown atmosphere have made it one of the capital’s most atmospheric locations.

The cemetery is also notorious for paranormal activity. The “Highgate Vampire” panic of the 1970s made international headlines. Ghosts, apparitions, and unexplained phenomena have been reported throughout the cemetery’s history. The dead of Highgate, it seems, do not rest entirely easily.

Some researchers suggest that the concentration of spiritual energy in the area—the cemetery’s tens of thousands of graves, the centuries of death and burial on Highgate Hill—may contribute to the paranormal activity at the Gatehouse. The pub sits at the edge of a vast necropolis, surrounded by the dead, and that proximity may strengthen or sustain its haunting.

Others note that the Gatehouse’s ghosts predate the cemetery by more than a century and a half, suggesting that the location was already spiritually significant before the Victorian burial ground was established. The highwayman, if he truly haunts the pub, began his haunting long before Karl Marx was laid to rest nearby.

The Atmosphere

Visitors to the Gatehouse often comment on its atmosphere, which many describe as heavier or more oppressive than a typical pub.

This atmospheric quality is difficult to quantify but consistently reported. Visitors describe feeling watched, sensing presence, experiencing an awareness that they are not alone even when the pub is nearly empty. The feeling is not constant—it comes and goes, stronger at some times than others—but it is persistent enough to become part of the pub’s character.

Some visitors find the atmosphere exciting, an authentic touch of the supernatural in an age when such experiences are increasingly rare. They come to the Gatehouse hoping to encounter the highwayman, and even if they don’t see him directly, they appreciate the atmospheric evidence of his presence.

Others find it disturbing. The sense of being watched, of sharing space with something unseen, can create genuine unease. Some patrons have reportedly left the pub quickly, unable to tolerate an atmosphere they couldn’t explain but couldn’t escape.

The staff have learned to live with it. They work in a haunted building, and that fact colors their experience but doesn’t prevent them from doing their jobs. The ghost is simply part of the Gatehouse, as much a fixture as the bar or the fireplace.

The Criminal’s Rest

If the highwayman truly haunts the Gatehouse, what keeps him there?

Traditional explanations for persistent haunting often involve unfinished business, violent death, or attachment to a specific location. The highwayman’s situation arguably includes all three.

His death was certainly violent—execution by hanging, his body displayed as a warning. Such deaths were believed to create restless spirits, souls unable to move on because their ends were so traumatic.

His business was certainly unfinished. He was captured, interrupted in his criminal career before he chose to end it. The injustice he might have felt—from his perspective, the injustice of being caught while others escaped—might fuel continued attachment to the mortal world.

And his attachment to the location is clear. He was held at the Gatehouse, perhaps for days, awaiting his fate. Those final hours before execution would have been intensely significant, the last moments of his life concentrated in this single building.

Or perhaps the explanation is simpler. Perhaps the highwayman loved his trade so much that death could not end it. Perhaps he continues to haunt the roads around Highgate because that is where he wants to be, eternally watching for travelers who will never again fear his pistol.

The Eternal Watch

At the Gatehouse in Highgate, a ghost keeps watch on roads he once terrorized.

He stands at windows overlooking the old road, watching for travelers who no longer come by horse. He paces the upper rooms where he spent his final free hours, reliving the captivity that preceded his death. He touches the shoulders of patrons who drink where he once sat, reminding them that the pub has another customer who never pays.

His hoofbeats echo in the night, the sound of a horse that died centuries ago carrying a rider who has never stopped riding. His presence fills the upper rooms with cold, with movement, with the uneasy awareness of something watching.

The Gatehouse has stood for over 350 years, serving countless visitors through eras of horse and carriage, automobile and bus. It has survived plagues, wars, and the transformation of Highgate from rural village to London suburb. Through all of it, the highwayman has remained.

He was a criminal. He died a criminal’s death. But something in him refuses the ending that justice decreed, and so he lingers in the building that witnessed his final hours, watching the road that was once his hunting ground.

The travelers are safe now. The roads are lit and policed, and no one fears robbery on Highgate Hill.

But the highwayman still watches.

And sometimes, late at night, when the streets are quiet and the darkness thick, visitors to the Gatehouse catch a glimpse of him.

Still waiting.

Still watching.

Forever.

Sources

• Wikipedia search: “The Gatehouse”
• Historic England — Listed Buildings — Register of historic sites