You‘ve walked past it dozens, if not hundreds of times. But most Washingtonians have never set foot in the distinguished Victorian mansion that stands like an elegant appendage on New Hampshire Avenue, just southwest of Dupont Circle. The holidays are the perfect time to explore this magnificent time capsule, as the Heurich House Museum supplements its garden hours and regular public tours with a special Victorian Christmas program. But first, some history.

Also known as the Brewmaster’s Castle, the house was built near the end of the ninteenth century by a German emigrant who had $200 to his name when he came to America and grew to be Washington’s largest private employer with the Christian Heurich Brewing Company. Heurich’s brewery supplied Washington beer lovers from what is now the site of the Kennedy Center. The factory shut down in 1955 and was demolished seven years later, but local beer drinkers may recall a brew by the name of Old Heurich. Grandson Gary F. Heurich tried to revive the brand, but this venture went flat in 2006. The City Paper wrote about the failed revival last year.

Christian Heurich died in 1945, and his widow deeded the house to the Washington Historical Society, who took up shop there in 1956. Preservation standards of fifty years ago were not what they are now, and some amount of cleanup was necessary to undo the previous tenant’s misguided paint jobs. But it is thanks to that tenant that many of the Heurich’s original late-Victorian furnishings and decorations are still intact. These include a Tiffany chandelier; massive, intricately hand-carved furniture and mantles; a room modelled after a German bierstube (but which Heurich’s temperance-minded third wife converted to a breakfast room); and the lasting results of enthusiastic fireproofing.

Why fireproofing? Before moving to New Hampshire Avenue, Heurich lost two breweries and a home to fire. He insisted his new castle be constructed upon reinforced steel and concrete that rendered it essentially fireproof. Fire-resistant plaster is decorated with a metal wash that resembles stucco; other rooms are wallpapered with flora-themed sandpaper. The house was built with fifteen ornate fireplaces, none of which were ever used. The conservatory — whose tall windows can be seen along Sunderland Place — was originally built with a glass roof. But in 1922, the roof of the Knickerbocker Theater at 18th and Columbia collapsed under the weight of a terrible blizzard, killing 98 people. A cautious Heurich had his conservatory roof replaced with a coffered wood ceiling and copper-covered roof. Listen to Scott Nelson, Executive Director of the Heurich House, talk about the patriarchal pyrophobia in this WAMU story.

In 2003, the Washington Historical Society set off for the greener pastures of the former Carnegie Library on Mt. Vernon Square, and the Heurich House was briefly up for grabs. The exterior was not in danger of being razed, but developers bandied about the idea of bringing a restaurant into the space. Two of Heurich’s grandchildren intervened to save the house and create the non-profit organization that now operates it as a museum.

“Is it haunted?” you may ask.

Well, I did. Foundation Operations director Kimberly Bender admitted that the grandfather clock’s regular chimes were a little creepy at first. But she stopped short of blaming ghosts for the house’s strange noises, explaining that they were coming from outside the house. Still, I asked Natalie Zanin, whose Historic Strolls ghost tours I wrote up last year, about her experiences with the Heurichs. Zanin produced theatrical ghost tours of the Heurich House while it still housed the WHS, and she passed along a few stories:

I did not believe in ghosts, and had not heard such stories about the Heurich House. But after working there for a few weeks I began to experience strange occurrences: lights turning themselves back on after I turned them off, strange sounds in the Bierstube, Mr. Heurich’s favorite room. One Sunday I was alone on the fourth floor when I heard something behind me. When I turned around, there was nothing there. I heard something walk to the door at the end of a hall that led to the tiny, unheated old servants rooms. I walked to the doorway and watched the shelves vibrate as something walked past them. The sound of steps stopped down the hall. I panicked and rushed for the elevator, which was the only way back downstairs if I didn’t want to go down the hall after the “visitor”. I must have pushed that creaky old elevator button a hundred times until finally it arrived. I landed on the main floor, rushed to the pantry and told my supervisor that there was something on the fourth floor. She told me the house was haunted.

For a while I spent a lot of time in the house by myself, locking up and opening it, and I was never scared. Except for one time. It was after a winter show. It got dark early and I was locking up. I set the alarm and I had about a minute to get to the main doors. As I hurried up the stairs to the main floor from the basement level, I saw something in the hall that seemed to be wearing an apron and about five feet tall. I saw it out of the corner of my eye and told myself it was probably an apron an actor had left hanging on the closet we used for costumes. But the next day when I opened up, the aprons were all on their hangers inside the closet — which was shut tight.

The Heurich House celebrates a Victorian Christmas with special candle-light tours, featuring German music, refreshments, and a visit from Father Christmas. Tickets are $15 for adults and $5 for children, and can be purchased here. Regular guided tours are conducted Thursdays through Saturdays. Suggested donation $5.