Myths & Mischief

Welcome back to Myths & Mischief! This is your Lovable Lord of Lore, today’s mischievous myth is about a haunting in the oldest tavern in America.

These were wild times in Newport. The colonies were booming, and there was a lot to do for a young man in a city teeming with pirates and prostitutes. For John, he was looking for the time of his life. He had met up with his friends earlier in the day, and they had all agreed to meet up at the White Horse Tavern for a drink before figuring out what mischief they could get themselves into. 

John got to the bar first. He had worked all week and his money was burning a hole in his pocket. He meandered up to the bar, and sat at the side of the bar next to the fireplace. It was New England, and it was cold outside. Between the whiskey and the fire, John had thawed out from his venture down Thames Street. Sometimes it is so cold, it aches in his bones. But for now, John was comfortable as he sat with his back to the door, using his coat to block the draft when the door was opened as he was awaiting the arrival of his friends.  

His friends must have been running late. John decided to order another drink. The bartender complied and provided him with a house ale. John took small sips for a couple of reasons. He didn’t want to drink too much before his friends arrived, and he didn’t want to spend his money so quickly that it would run out before his night of adventure had concluded. He sat, waited, and sipped his beer. 

Around him, the tavern was bustling. The owner had recently returned from a successful venture at sea and everyone seemed to be in a good mood. Any time one of these privateers returned, there was almost an immediate distribution of the plunder.  

Newport was not the safest place to be at night, but for a young man seeking to suck the marrow out of life, anything was possible. It just wasn’t possible for John on that night. Before he knew what has happening, a few men burst through the door. Perhaps they were interested in obtaining some of the booty from the owner’s freshly enhanced stores, or maybe they were intoxicated. Regardless, the entered the door and shot John in the back, with his beverage beside him as he slumped onto the bar.  

That is not the end of young John’s story.  

Today the White Horse Tavern is an opportunity to rub elbows with old money. Very wealthy patrons come and spend large amounts of money. They have drinks, socialize, eat and carry on. For this high-end establishment there are local rumors that depict the White Horse Tavern as being haunted.  

The bar next door, a frequent stopping point for people that are looking to buy another beverage, but perhaps not at the inflated cost of the White Horse Tavern would be to travel next door to another bar. People that worked at that bar reported that on some nights, the people that came in from the White Horse Tavern were visibly shaken. They had seen something that was off-putting and unsettling. Upon inquiry, they would describe their experience. One patron claimed that he was sitting at the bar next to the this guy wearing unusual clothing. He was dressed in colonial garb, common colonial garb and they were just sitting at the bar together. He appeared to be waiting for something or someone. Later to be found out that no one was actually there, but for the evening, he just sat and waited. Waiting for friends that would never show up. 

There are other accounts of people feeling like they’ve been tapped on the shoulder or a little girl screaming outside the bathroom. Some people reported hearing heavy footsteps in empty rooms. On some evenings, there are apparitions seen floating above tables, including one that was suspected to having its picture taken. 

Well, you may not believe in ghosts. The owners of the establishment, their workers, many of their patrons, as well as the establishment next door, have all have experiences that say otherwise. 

If you liked this tale, make sure to subscribe for more so you don’t miss the next installment of mischievous myths!