Ghosts Of The National Capitol
The United States Capitol Building in Washington, D.C., stands as a monumental symbol of American democracy, a place where history is made and laws are enacted. But beyond its political significance, the Capitol is also shrouded in a veil of mystery, with tales of spectral residents and unexplained phenomena that have persisted for over a century. Described as perhaps the most thoroughly haunted building in the world, the Capitol is said to be home to at least fifteen well-documented ghosts, each with their own chilling story to tell.
This article delves into the ghostly lore surrounding the National Capitol, exploring the origins and details of these eerie legends. From phantom felines to the lingering spirits of former statesmen, the tales paint a vivid picture of a building where the past refuses to stay silent.
One of the most bizarre and unsettling apparitions associated with the Capitol is the Demon Cat. This creature, unlike any ordinary ghost, is said to possess the ability to dramatically alter its size. Witnesses describe seeing a small, seemingly harmless cat that suddenly swells to the size of an elephant, terrifying anyone who crosses its path. The Demon Cat was reportedly sighted frequently until 1862, when a watchman shot at it, causing it to vanish. While it hasn’t been seen in its monstrous form since, some Capitol Police officers still whisper about the spectral animal.
The vast interior of the National Capitol, with its echoing corridors and imposing spaces, amplifies any sense of unease, especially at night. Even the least superstitious individuals can find themselves unnerved by the strange noises and unsettling shadows that seem to come alive in the darkness. The Capitol’s architecture itself contributes to the eerie atmosphere. Professional guides often demonstrate how a whisper uttered on a specific marble block can be heard clearly at a distant point, a phenomenon that only intensifies the building’s inherent strangeness.
Imagine a lone watchman patrolling the silent corridors, his lantern casting long, distorted shadows that dance and shift like malevolent figures. The solitude is profound, the silence broken only by the echo of his own footsteps. It is in this environment that the ghostly tales of the Capitol take on a life of their own.
One of the most persistent and disturbing phenomena reported by Capitol watchmen is the ghostly footstep that follows anyone who walks across Statuary Hall at night. This hall, once the chamber of the House of Representatives, holds a particular significance as the place where John Quincy Adams, the sixth President of the United States, collapsed and died. A brass tablet marks the spot where his desk once stood. Whether the footsteps are those of Adams himself is a matter of speculation, but the experience is undeniably unsettling. As one walks across the historic floor, the white marble statues of deceased statesmen seem to watch, their outstretched arms appearing to point accusingly.
The watchman’s duties often require patrolling the basement of the National Capitol, a labyrinthine space where the imagination can run wild. One story recounts a Capitol policeman who was frightened by a pair of flaming eyes peering out from the vaults beneath the House of Representatives chamber, where wood for the fires was stored. It turned out the eyes belonged to a fox, which had sought refuge in the cellar after being chased through the city.
The mystery of the following footsteps in Statuary Hall has intrigued many. One particularly bold watchman attempted to solve the enigma using scientific methods. Suspecting a trick, he purchased rubber shoes in an attempt to muffle his own footsteps. He patrolled the hall in the dead of night, and sure enough, the footsteps followed. He tried to corner the source of the sound, convinced it was a prankster. But just as he thought he had his culprit trapped, the footsteps would suddenly be heard in another part of the hall, having eluded him once again. Despite repeated attempts, the watchman was never able to uncover the source of the mysterious footsteps.
Another tale associated with the National Capitol involves an old gentleman who worked in the Library of Congress for thirty-five years when it was housed within the Capitol building. He spent much of his time in a cramped, airless vault in the sub-cellar, cataloging books. When he passed away, he was paralyzed and unable to speak, but he gestured that he wished to be taken to the old library. His family did not grant his wish. It was later discovered that he had hidden $6,000 worth of registered United States bonds among the books in the vault, presumably between the pages of some of the old volumes. The heirs searched the books when the library was moved to its new location, but the bonds were never found. To this day, it is said that the ghost of the old librarian haunts the vault, searching for his missing securities.
The librarian was known for his eccentric habits, including collecting burnt matches and expired streetcar transfers, which he kept in his desk. He had a close friend named Twine, who worked in a caged area in the basement of the Capitol, stamping the library’s books. Some say that Twine’s ghost continues to stamp books at his old post, even though the Library of Congress has long since moved out of the Capitol.
Many of the ghostly tales of the National Capitol are associated with the basement, perhaps due to the ancient belief that spirits reside in the lower regions. However, there are exceptions. The ghost of Vice-President Wilson, who died in his room at the Senate end of the building, is said to occasionally visit the premises. It is said that he once startled a watchman guarding the coffin of a Tennessee Senator who was lying in state in the Senate Chamber.
One former Capitol policeman, who was later dismissed for drunkenness, claimed to have witnessed the Congress of 1848 in session in Statuary Hall, with John Quincy Adams and other historical figures present. While his testimony is unreliable, it adds another layer to the ghostly mystique of the Capitol.
Beneath the hall of the House of Representatives, a melancholy specter is said to wander at night, a tall figure with a large mustache and his hands clasped behind his back. His identity remains a mystery. Watchmen have approached him, believing him to be an intruder, but he vanishes instantly.
At precisely 12:30 every night, the door of the room occupied by the Committee on Military and Militia of the Senate is said to open silently, and the figure of General Logan emerges. Recognizable by his long black hair, military bearing, and the hat he always wore, Logan was the chairman of this committee and is said to still oversee its duties in spectral form.
The Ghosts Of The National Capitol are more than just spooky stories; they are a part of the building’s rich history and enduring mystique. These tales, passed down through generations of watchmen and staff, provide a glimpse into the hidden side of a national landmark. The Ghosts Of The National Capitol are a reminder that even in a place of power and politics, the past can linger, its echoes resonating through the halls and corridors.
Whether you believe in ghosts or not, the stories surrounding the Ghosts Of The National Capitol are fascinating and contribute to the building’s unique character. The Ghosts Of The National Capitol are a testament to the power of storytelling and the human fascination with the unknown.
The enduring legends of the Ghosts Of The National Capitol serve as a reminder of the countless individuals who have walked its halls, debated its laws, and shaped the course of American history. Their presence, whether real or imagined, adds a layer of depth and intrigue to this iconic building. The Ghosts Of The National Capitol continue to capture the imagination and remind us that history is never truly silent.
As the sun sets and darkness descends upon the Ghosts Of The National Capitol, the stories come alive, transforming the grand edifice into a realm where the past and present intertwine, and where the line between reality and the supernatural blurs.
The stories detailed above were originally published in The Philadelphia Press on October 2, 1898.