Unwelcome at Old Stone House
Before I tell you what happened when we visited Old Stone House, I will say up front that I have no desire to visit there again. I will, I’m sure, out of stupidity and curiosity, but I’ve seen enough horror movies to know when to stay away from a creepy location.Most of the information on the hauntings at Old Stone House — there are 11 individual spirits alleged to have taken up residence between the rock walls — is legend and hearsay. Whispers based on whispers based on whispers with little or no sourcing.Old Stone House is also exceptionally old. It was first erected in 1765, according to the National Park Service. It is the oldest structure in the District on its original foundation.There were owners of the property before that, though. A Historic American Buildings Survey from 1936 states that a John Boone owned the land in 1757. Then came Christopher Leyhman (referred to elsewhere as “Layman”) and Cassandra Chew.One tidbit about the building that does have some entertaining — albeit somewhat confusing — historical backing is that original efforts to preserve Old Stone House were taken because locals screwed up and mistook the building as George Washington’s headquarters during the 1791 survey to outline D.C.Old Stone House served as a private residential and commercial property (in the 1930s, it was allegedly a bordello; then it was a car dealership) until the federal government bought it in 1953.n his book, “Haunted Places: The National Directory” (you can rent a copy from Archive.org), Dennis Hauck identifies the following phantoms as seemingly permanent residents:A woman in a 1700s-style dress near the fireplace. A young woman with rings in her hair running up and down the staircase. A woman in antebellum clothing on the stairs and in the kitchen. A man in short pants and long stockings in the kitchen. A man with long blond hair near a front-room window. A young boy named Joey in the third-floor hallway. A young black boy in the third-floor hallway. A carpenter thought to be Christopher Leyhman/Layman. A colonial-era man in the master bedroom. Another colonial-era man on the second floor. And then there’s George …George is said to be one of the few truly malevolent specters in the District. He despises women and haunts the third-floor bedroom. He has been accused of shoving, choking, knifing and sexually assaulting women who enter his room.Something at the Old Stone House just feels … wrong.My wife and I visited Old Stone House twice. The first time was overnight Oct. 11.Old Stone House has a foreboding presence. For my wife and me, there was something ominous about it. Like we shouldn’t be there and certainly weren’t welcome.The faint glow from upstairs work lights permeated the whole place. At one point, on the first floor, toward the back, I thought I saw something move — but I freely admit it could have been a case of the jitters.We meandered around the property for a while, taking photos and talking, trying to determine where the various sources of light were coming from.
Ghost stagecoach and drummer boy of M Street Bridge
The original wooden bridge over Rock Creek was built in 1788. Tragically for one stagecoach driver and his horse, the bridge was not sturdy enough to withstand the onslaught of raging wind and rain.It collapsed, taking with it the stagecoach driver and his horse, who drowned.Accounts differ on whether the stagecoach had passengers.It wasn’t the first such drowning for that area of Rock Creek. During the Revolutionary War, a young drummer boy drowned trying to cross the waters on his way to muster in Virginia.Both have been said to haunt the M Street Bridge on stormy nights.People have claimed to see the stagecoach race toward the bridge from the Georgetown side only to disappear when it hits the new span.Others say they’ve heard drumming near the spot where the boy drowned.
The C&O Canal Murder
In a tall and dilapidated brick house facing the river, on Water street, above Thirty-third street, there occurred on Saturday night one of the most brutal and desperate fights between two canal-boat men which has for years startled the quiet community of West Washington, and which resulted yesterday in the death of John Bruebaker from the injuries he received from his adversary, George Seaman.Both are men of more than usual strength and distinguished by their brutality, but had always been friends until the frequent visits of Bruebaker's wife to Seaman's house led to an estrangement and the fight Saturday.It seems that while Bruebaker was sleeping off in his cabin a customary fit of intoxication on Saturday evening his wife determined to pay a visit to her friend, Mrs. Epps, who lives on the third floor of Seaman's house, and while there was obliged to call for assistance in consequence of the sudden illness of her friend.Seaman responded instantly, and while the two were engaged in assisting the sick woman, the door was suddenly thrown open and Bruebaker staggered in in search of his wife. The moment he saw her his eyes, bloodshot from the effects of his recent debauch, lighted up with malignant fury, while the poor woman shrank frightened into a corner."You are here again," he said through his clinched teeth as he walked straight towards her and seized her by the shoulder. "This is the way you heed what I tell you," and without paying the slightest attention to her entreaties, he struck her fiercely in the face. Before he could repeat the blow Seaman, who was still in the room, seized his arm and tore them apart. Then the two ruffians glared at each other and prepared for a struggle, but as they did so Mrs. Bruebaker rushed between, imploring Seaman not to strike her husband and saying that she was willing to stand the blows herself.Seaman, though violently angry, tore himself away and abruptly left the room. When he had departed Bruebaker turned to his wife and again commenced abusing her, exclaiming as he did so, "Seaman is the bully of Georgetown, but he can't whip me."He had hardly uttered the words when Seaman re-entered the room and the two men rushed at each other. Both were infuriated and this time Seaman paid no attention to the cries of the woman. The fact that his adversary was drunk gave him a decided advantage and he beat him mercilessly about the face, while the terrified wife clung to her husband, and forgetting all the ill-treatment he had subjected her to, she endeavored to shield him with her person from the fierce rage of his assailant.Finally becoming desperate at the cruelty of Seaman she flung herself upon him and, at the risk of being seriously hurt herself, she seized the ruffian's arm and held it. Freed in this manner from the punishment he had been receiving, Bruebaker assumed the aggressive and rushed on his antagonist. As he approached Seaman the latter kicked at him viciously and, stroking him full in the stomach, knocked him into the corner of the room, where he fell and laid. His wife rushed to him, but he was unable to rise, and assistance had to be procured in order to get him out of the house. He was then taken to his boat, lying in the canal just back of where the fight occurred and put to bed.His wife and friends, who had been frequent witnesses of similar affairs, did not suppose that he was seriously injured, but as he gradually sank into unconsciousness, they became alarmed and called in a physician. By this time, however, he was beyond the reach of medical aid and he grew rapidly worse and died in a few hours.The police had been kept in perfect ignorance of the matter, but on the death of Bruebaker one of his friends informed the officers, and Seaman was arrested by Segt. Hess and Officer Volkman. Bruebaker's body was removed to the station house, and on an autopsy held by Dr. Hartigan it was found that death had been caused by a rupture of the mesentery, caused by violence, and he was rather of the opinion that Seaman had knocked his victim down and then stamped on him. This, however, does not seem to be the case, if the witnesses of the affairs are correct in their statements.Mrs. Bruebaker, who was found on board the canal boat, said the her husband could not have been kicked more than once, but that she was too frightened to be sure of what occurred. "I told George," said she, "that I could take all the blows John wanted to give me and I could," with this she broke down completely and wept bitterly.Seaman is reported to be a man of very bad character, and it was stated yesterday that this is the third man whom he has killed. An inquest will be held today at the station house.
End Canal path
The Haunted Jesuit Cemetery at Georgetown
he Jesuit cemetery was originally established in 1808 at the southern end of Healy Hall. The first person buried there was Thomas Kelly, S.J. on August 16, 1808.[1] With the construction of Maguire Hall, university administrators ordered the cemetery to be moved to its present location in 1854, so that it would not be immediately next to the hall.[2] This required the exhumation and relocation of the remains of 46 Jesuits.[1] In 1964, a senior administrator proposed to university president Edward B. Bunn the idea of exhuming the bodies once again and removing them to the cemetery at Woodstock College in Maryland, as doing so would free up approximately one acre of land on the campus that could be used for building.[3]
Halcyon House
I don't believe in ghosts, but I do believe in ghost stories, which is why I had so much fun writing last week's two-part Halloween chiller about Halcyon House. The Georgetown mansion — which dates to 1787, when the first portions were built by Benjamin Stoddert, America's first secretary of the Navy — has a reputation for things that go bump in the night.But surely those manifestations are easily explainable as the home's foundation settling or floorboards creaking?Maybe not, said Bill Stearman, a U.S. Navy veteran who took an apartment in Halcyon House in October 1967 after returning from a tour of duty in Vietnam. "I never believed in ghosts before that, but I certainly do now," he wrote.Bill lived at 3400 Prospect St. NW until he got married in 1984. The house had a number of bizarre features and secret passages, the result of onetime owner Albert Adsit Clemons engaging in near-constant renovation. Wrote Bill: "I had a closet with stairs in it clearly created by walling off a staircase."The tenant before Bill was a Georgetown University professor who had left in a hurry "after having been bounced out of bed by a poltergeist of sorts," Bill wrote. "Soon after I moved into my two-story apartment I was entertaining a friend at dinner when we heard a heavy tramping in my bedroom upstairs. Having got used to having a weapon at hand, I took my trusty service Colt .45 and crept upstairs. Nobody was there. My guest said, 'Take me home, now!' "That night, just before he fell asleep, Bill heard the tramping again — in the room with him. "It soon ceased and I finally managed to fall asleep," he wrote.That was the last time Bill encountered the ghost in proximity. "From then on it confined its activities to moving things around," he said. "For example, one morning I awoke to find a loaf of bread near the telephone on the second floor at the head of the staircase. From then on things kept appearing and disappearing. I finally got used to this."Local PerspectiveReaders scare up their memories of Georgetown’s ‘haunted’ Halcyon HouseIn 1965, ivy covered much of the exterior of Georgetown’s famed Halcyon House. (Harry Naltchayan/The Washington Post)By John KellyColumnistNovember 7, 2017I don't believe in ghosts, but I do believe in ghost stories, which is why I had so much fun writing last week's two-part Halloween chiller about Halcyon House. The Georgetown mansion — which dates to 1787, when the first portions were built by Benjamin Stoddert, America's first secretary of the Navy — has a reputation for things that go bump in the night.But surely those manifestations are easily explainable as the home's foundation settling or floorboards creaking?[A Washington ghost story: The Haunting of Halcyon House, Part 1]Maybe not, said Bill Stearman, a U.S. Navy veteran who took an apartment in Halcyon House in October 1967 after returning from a tour of duty in Vietnam. "I never believed in ghosts before that, but I certainly do now," he wrote.Bill lived at 3400 Prospect St. NW until he got married in 1984. The house had a number of bizarre features and secret passages, the result of onetime owner Albert Adsit Clemons engaging in near-constant renovation. Wrote Bill: "I had a closet with stairs in it clearly created by walling off a staircase."The tenant before Bill was a Georgetown University professor who had left in a hurry "after having been bounced out of bed by a poltergeist of sorts," Bill wrote. "Soon after I moved into my two-story apartment I was entertaining a friend at dinner when we heard a heavy tramping in my bedroom upstairs. Having got used to having a weapon at hand, I took my trusty service Colt .45 and crept upstairs. Nobody was there. My guest said, 'Take me home, now!' "[The Haunting of Halcyon House, Part 2: The Grim Task]That night, just before he fell asleep, Bill heard the tramping again — in the room with him. "It soon ceased and I finally managed to fall asleep," he wrote.That was the last time Bill encountered the ghost in proximity. "From then on it confined its activities to moving things around," he said. "For example, one morning I awoke to find a loaf of bread near the telephone on the second floor at the head of the staircase. From then on things kept appearing and disappearing. I finally got used to this."I asked Bill if he found any of this scary."Not too much," he said. "I had just come back from Vietnam, so nothing much would shake me up after that."Joy Kraus grew up at 3306 Prospect St. NW, just down the street from Halcyon House, a.k.a. the Stoddert Mansion. Her aunt lived at 3416 Prospect St. "When I was child in the '30s, my mother and I visited my aunt frequently," she wrote, "and each time we walked past the Prospect Street entrance to the Stoddert Mansion, I would look eagerly into an open passageway in the hope of seeing something that might lighten the mystery of the place."I remember a large metal and glass framed notice which was suspended outside that passageway and made clear the rules of life therein. And I heard many tales of Mr. Clemons's ongoing wood butchery in the house, and of doors that opened onto blank walls. We learned, too, as you wrote, of Mr. Clemons's direction that his heart was to be pierced, to assure that he was dead."Local PerspectiveReaders scare up their memories of Georgetown’s ‘haunted’ Halcyon HouseIn 1965, ivy covered much of the exterior of Georgetown’s famed Halcyon House. (Harry Naltchayan/The Washington Post)By John KellyColumnistNovember 7, 2017I don't believe in ghosts, but I do believe in ghost stories, which is why I had so much fun writing last week's two-part Halloween chiller about Halcyon House. The Georgetown mansion — which dates to 1787, when the first portions were built by Benjamin Stoddert, America's first secretary of the Navy — has a reputation for things that go bump in the night.But surely those manifestations are easily explainable as the home's foundation settling or floorboards creaking?[A Washington ghost story: The Haunting of Halcyon House, Part 1]Maybe not, said Bill Stearman, a U.S. Navy veteran who took an apartment in Halcyon House in October 1967 after returning from a tour of duty in Vietnam. "I never believed in ghosts before that, but I certainly do now," he wrote.Bill lived at 3400 Prospect St. NW until he got married in 1984. The house had a number of bizarre features and secret passages, the result of onetime owner Albert Adsit Clemons engaging in near-constant renovation. Wrote Bill: "I had a closet with stairs in it clearly created by walling off a staircase."The tenant before Bill was a Georgetown University professor who had left in a hurry "after having been bounced out of bed by a poltergeist of sorts," Bill wrote. "Soon after I moved into my two-story apartment I was entertaining a friend at dinner when we heard a heavy tramping in my bedroom upstairs. Having got used to having a weapon at hand, I took my trusty service Colt .45 and crept upstairs. Nobody was there. My guest said, 'Take me home, now!' "[The Haunting of Halcyon House, Part 2: The Grim Task]That night, just before he fell asleep, Bill heard the tramping again — in the room with him. "It soon ceased and I finally managed to fall asleep," he wrote.That was the last time Bill encountered the ghost in proximity. "From then on it confined its activities to moving things around," he said. "For example, one morning I awoke to find a loaf of bread near the telephone on the second floor at the head of the staircase. From then on things kept appearing and disappearing. I finally got used to this."I asked Bill if he found any of this scary."Not too much," he said. "I had just come back from Vietnam, so nothing much would shake me up after that."Joy Kraus grew up at 3306 Prospect St. NW, just down the street from Halcyon House, a.k.a. the Stoddert Mansion. Her aunt lived at 3416 Prospect St. "When I was child in the '30s, my mother and I visited my aunt frequently," she wrote, "and each time we walked past the Prospect Street entrance to the Stoddert Mansion, I would look eagerly into an open passageway in the hope of seeing something that might lighten the mystery of the place."I remember a large metal and glass framed notice which was suspended outside that passageway and made clear the rules of life therein. And I heard many tales of Mr. Clemons's ongoing wood butchery in the house, and of doors that opened onto blank walls. We learned, too, as you wrote, of Mr. Clemons's direction that his heart was to be pierced, to assure that he was dead."I've seen references that Clemons worked at the Treasury Department, but Joy said her family understood that he was an importer. "My older sister told me of her doll which suffered a broken head," she wrote. "Our father took the doll to Mr. Clemons, who knew someone who was able to repair the damage."There's nothing creepier than a broken doll.Wrote Joy: "I am a great fan of ghost stories, but I never thought of the Stoddert Mansion as haunted — just always exceedingly interesting."Kirk Evans was born in Washington in 1970, grew up in Georgetown, and as a boy played on the property of Halcyon House every chance he got. "My brother, sister and friends and I had heard it was haunted, and we were absolutely fascinated by the place," Kirk wrote. "In those days it was about half empty and a little disheveled. . . . From Prospect Street, there was a second-story room with its windows absolutely blanketed with dead ivy. On the inside."Kirk's most vivid memory of playing around Halcyon House was being pursued by a pair of snarling, barking guard dogs. "They chased me into a thicket of boxwood, where I practically wet my pants in terror," he wrote. "Then they were gone. No sign or sound of them. They were inches behind me and then complete silence and I was alone."Halcyon House is all tidied up now — returned to normalcy when it was owned by local sculptor John Dreyfuss — but Kirk said he was a bit sad to see its ghostly demeanor vanish. "I always found that comforting, in a strange way," he wrote.
