Street view of Rose Revived at Newbridge
View of difficult small boat mooring at Rose Revived at Newbridge


The Rose Revived is on the Right (North) bank BELOW Newbridge
(left and right banks always seen as going upstream!)
(The Maybush is above the bridge on the Left bank.)
Mooring on the right bank is doubtful (canoes and manual boats only). Beware loose and broken concrete slabs.
There is a few yards downstream on the right bank a boathouse with a landing stage. This may be usable by permission.

Rose Revived website -

Rose Revived, Newbridge, Witney, Oxfordshire, OX29 7QD
Room Reservations: 0845 6086040 Restaurant & Events: 01865 300221
The Rose Revived pub in Witney
Ivy-covered walls, Cotswold-stone, weeping willows and right on the banks of the Thames, the 16th century Rose Revived is one of our outstanding properties. With just seven select bedrooms to choose from you’re sure of a quiet stay. All cosy and welcoming, some have delightful river views. Enjoy a cask ale in front of a roaring log fire in the winter, and the sun on your face on the riverbank in our lovely garden during summer.

See also Tripadvisor

1462: The Rose Revived, Wood's Life and Times -

Several complaints were put up by the men of Kingston-Bagpuze and Stanlake for to have [Newbridge] repaired.
[It had fallen into decay].
Whereupon one Thomas Briggs, that lived in a hermitage at that end of the bridge next to Stanlake, obtained license to require the goodwill and favour of passengers that way and of the neighbouring villages:  so that money being then collected, the bridge was repaired in good sort.
This hermitage was a little old stone building, but beyond the memory of man it hath been an ale house, or pettie inn for travellers, called The Chequer.  It belongs to Lyncolne College and Dod the tenant pays 3 shillings and 4 pence per annum for it by the name of The Hermitage alias The Chequer Inn in the parish of Stanlake.
  (March 1659).

1791: Newbridge and the Rose Revived by Samuel Ireland -

Newbridge, Samuel Ireland, 1791
Newbridge, and the Rose Revived, Samuel Ireland, 1791

1859: Newbridge with behind it The Rose Revived -

Rose Revived, Newbridge, 1859
Newbridge and The Rose Revived, 1859.

1890: The Rose Revived behind Newbridge, Henry Taunt -

The Rose Revived behind Newbridge, Henry Taunt, 1890
The Rose Revived behind Newbridge, Henry Taunt, 1890
© Oxfordshire County Council Photographic Archive; HT04717

1928: Thriller "The Footsteps at the Lock" is based (probably - see what you think!) on Shifford Lock and describes "THE GUDGEON at Eaton Bridge" which seems likely to be the Rose Revived at Newbridge. There is a full page about the book on this site - s02061.htm

THE GUDGEON [taken to be THE ROSE REVIVED at New Bridge]
The Gudgeon Inn stands close by Eaton Bridge, with a pleasant though untidy stretch of grass sloping down to the river; at the end is a tiny quay to which a few boats are moored, at the back of it a verandah, where holiday guests can have their tea in wet weather without actually going indoors. On the whole, there are worse places ...
There was nothing for it but to sit here and philosophize ... Indeed, the slow swirl of the river at his feet invited to philosophy;
A large peacock edged suspiciously into view: Nigel picked up some fragments of bread, doped them with gin, and threw them at the bird in the hope that it would become interested. A drunk peacock would surely be an exquisite sight; to see it lose, at last, the shocked staidness of its demeanour.
A camping party on the other side of the stream, a little lower down, claimed his attention; two brawny young men appeared to be washing up dishes, and hanging clothes out to dry. Nigel speculated whether it would ever be possible to enjoy the kind of life in which you had to wash up your own dishes and feed on tinned salmon. There seemed to be people who did it for the love of the thing. Probably it was a compensation of some kind; you could explain anything as a compensation nowadays. ...
The Gudgeon Inn is the sort of institution that only exists for the sake of people who see life in inverted commas. Externally it is just like a thousand other inns; the creaking sign-board, the modest lintel-announcement of the licence, the perspective of doors and passages that greets you as you enter, show no promise of disillusionment. But once you are really inside, you know the difference. The dining-room has no muslin curtains, there is no bamboo firescreen; the tables are not covered with ash-trays and salt-cellars advertising beer and mineral waters; there is no vast, unwieldy sideboard heaped with unnecessary coffee-pots. The tables are of fumed oak, and the flower-vases on them are of modern crockery in a daring orange; the sideboard is real Elizabethan, and serves no purpose whatever, any more than the three large pewter plates which rest upon it, obviously straight from an old curiosity shop. There are no stuffed animals in glass cases, no sentimental pictures with explicit legends in the manner of the later nineteenth century; no strange sea-shells on the mantelpieces, no horse-hair sofas, no superannuated musical-boxes. The walls are very bare and beautifully whitewashed; a few warming-pans and some mezzotints are all their ornament; there are open fire-places with brightly polished dogs, tiled floors, rush mats, wooden coal-scuttles with archaic mottoes carved on them. In a word, the inn has been recently 'done up'.
'It isn't an inn, ... it's an old-world hostelry, and it irritates me. I believe they expected us to dress for dinner; there isn't any commercial room, only a place they call the Ingle Nook; I can't find a dart-board anywhere, or an antimacassar. Their idea of a beer-mug is a thing you stick up on a shelf and look at.'
'It's such a pity you've no taste ...
'Taste? Who wants taste in a country pub? You can get taste in your own drawing-room. A country pub ought to grow up anyhow; with grandfather clocks that really belonged to grandfathers, and a spotty piano all out of tune, and sham flowers and things. Don't you see that this kind of thing isn't natural?'

1951: Edward Ardizzone, Sketches from a Holiday Afloat -

Tea at the 'Rose Revived' where we are somewhat intimidated by the smart yachts and even smarter crowd.
However we find a more secluded mooring place & return there for a most expensive dinner.
We make friends with a yachtsman and his wife and I drink rum with them on board their craft till late.
Sleep well in consequence.