Justus H. Rathbone steps forward with a small Bible in his hands — a cherished childhood gift from his mother. One by one, he calls each man forward to place their hand upon it and swear unfailing loyalty to Rathbone’s newly created fraternal organization — the Order of the Knights of Pythias.
In A History of the Knights of Pythias and its Branches and Auxiliary, Captain Hugh Goold Webb defined the Order as having been created, “to uplift the fallen; champion humanity; to be its guide and hope; its refuge, shelter and defense.” According to Webb, the Knights of Pythias was created as a medieval-inspired Utopia crafted for the gentleman’s cause.
The Knights of Pythias could be seen as a blend of old traditions, rooted in images of medieval Europe, Greek mythology and Christian philosophy. Its foundation rests on the need to embody the “Pythian Trinity” of friendship, charity and compassion.
In creating the Knights of Pythias, Rathbone was inspired by the mythological tale of Damon and Pythias, as it was portrayed in a play written by Irish poet and dramatist, John Banim. The story’s illustration of “true friendship” compelled Rathbone to establish an order based on the principles he witnessed being acted out onstage.
According to historian and author Harriet W. McBride, before the Civil War, the 22-year-old Rathbone was already a member of the Sons of Malta, the Improved Order of Red Men and the Freemasons.
Unable to resist his fascination with fraternal orders, Rathbone became determined to make his secret society dreams a reality. Working as a school teacher at the Eagle Harbor Schoolhouse in Eagle Harbor, Michigan, during the day, Rathbone spent his nights compiling a treatise based on Greek folklore titled The Rituals of the Knights of Pythias.
While serving as a non-combatant member of the Union Army in Washington, D.C., Rathbone convinced four of his friends to join his new society. He believed the Order’s military-style uniforms, ornate sashes and knightly swords would compel men of the war-torn era to join his secret, chivalric society.
“Rathbone incorporated into his fraternity all the elements that he believed would entice men to join,” McBride wrote. “From its inception, the Knights of Pythias regarded regalia as an essential element in the organization. Rathbone’s first initiation rites included ceremonies that required collars of different colors for each of the three degrees, and a participatory drama which required costumes.”
On February 19, 1864, his wishes were granted, and the Knights of Pythias was founded in the nation’s capital.
As the Civil War threatened to destroy the fabric of the nation during this time, Rathbone saw his organization as the proper ointment to heal the wound that had ruptured between the North and the South.
Even President Abraham Lincoln was impressed by the mission of the nation’s newest fraternal order. After being informed about its creation, he said: “It is one of the best agencies conceived for the upholding of government, honoring the flag, for the reuniting of our brethren of the North and of the South, for teaching the people to love one another, and portraying the sanctity of the home and loved ones.”
As the Order’s original members gathered for their first meeting, they made the collective decision to make their society a secret one, complete with rituals, passwords, doctrines, banners and uniform decorations that would only be revealed to initiated members.
In keeping with their medieval traditions, members of the Knights of Pythias were initiated under oath — one which entailed a promise to remain loyal to their country, maintain the conduct of a gentleman and profess a belief in a Supreme Being.
A Question of Race and Gender
Under these guidelines, the Order naturally appeared to be a restricted space for white, God-fearing men only — one which excluded the membership of anyone outside of these bounds. Like other fraternal orders, such as the Freemasons, the Knights of Pythias maintained strict requirements for admission, which weeded out all but white men.
“The reason why most of these fraternal orders sprang up after the Civil War was because it was a way to bypass integration,” said Tamara Finocchiaro, Pythian Castle’s current owner. “That was their primary purpose — to promote within a certain population. So, they blossomed heavily after the Civil War. This was one of the largest [fraternal orders] because they weren’t as specific about the religion you had to be in in [order] to be a member. Obviously, it wasn’t until the ‘60s that they allowed African Americans in, and women somewhere along the way.”
With the abolition of the slave trade in 1865, African Americans began to consider new possibilities for themselves. In 1882, R. A. Paul formed the African Americans’ Order of the Knights of Pythias. In 1894, John Mitchell Jr. became grand chancellor of the Virginia branch of the African American Knights of Pythias. Prior to joining the Order, Mitchell had been at the forefront of the fight against racial injustice as the editor of The Richmond Planet, a newspaper founded by a group of former slaves in 1883.
Perhaps feeling the initial vibrations of the women’s suffrage movement, a group of women vied for their voices to be heard within their own Order of the Knights of Pythias. In 1888, the Supreme Lodge of the Order of the Knights of Pythias approved the formation of a female auxiliary under a ritual written by Joseph Addition Hill. Two female auxiliaries emerged — the Pythian Sisterhood, which operated under a ritual by Alva A. Young, and the Pythian Sisters of the World, which adopted Hill’s ritual. In 1906, the two groups merged to form the Pythian Sisters.
Springfield Get Its Own Castle
Wishing to make its mark in the Midwest, the Knights of Pythias chose Missouri as the place to build a sprawling, medieval castle in the heart of America.
Prior to Pythian Castle’s construction, Springfield fought vigorously to be its home. After all, out of the nation’s fifteen buildings dedicated to the Knights of Pythias, only three of them were built in the style of a medieval castle — the other two were constructed in Illinois and Texas.
Built in 1913, Pythian Castle stands about a half-mile south of Route 66. Today, the home rests next to a U.S. Marine Corps reserve training center and Army reserve.
Constructed in the Late Gothic Revival style, Pythian Castle appears undeniably foreign within its Midwestern setting. The home’s exterior is constructed from rough and smooth Carthage limestone, a resource indigenous to southwest Missouri. Gothic arched windows frame the third story room that rests between turrets. On each side of the home’s front porch sit two Tudor arches outlined with raised moldings. Undoubtedly, Pythian Castle was constructed to reflect the knightly order that had built it.
Despite slight modification over the years, Pythian Castle’s interior remains much the same as it did over a century ago. The home retains original extensive millwork, pocket doors, large rooms with tall ceilings, plaster walls and tile floors. Several transom windows allow natural light to flood much of the structure’s interior, as if begging those who walk through its great halls to uncover the mysteries of its past.
A Home for Orphans and Widows
Shrouded in a dense veil of mystery, Pythian Castle holds many secrets.
From an outward perspective, the building bears the appearance of sophistication and material excess. At first glance, it could appear to the unacquainted eye to be the home of uprooted European nobility who made a fortune off the American Dream and settled in the shadow of the Ozarks.
However, this is far from the truth. The Castle’s original purpose was to house elderly Pythian members, as well as the widows of Pythians and their children.
“A lot of the fraternal orders at the time had programs to bury their members, and take care of their families,” said Jami Lewis, an archivist at the State Historical Society of Missouri. “This was pre-Social Security.”
According to Finocchiaro, living at the Castle during its early years was like “staying at your grandparents’ house.” For those in desperate straits, the Castle was a warmly received refuge, and life was fairly good.
“During the Great Depression, it was obviously a nice option for these people because it definitely could have been worse for them if they didn’t have this place,” Finocchario said.
But despite its role as a sanctuary, Pythian Castle expected discipline from its tenants. In a 2005 interview, Mildred Hall Cherry shared her experience as an orphan at the Castle. After her father suffered a fatal heart attack in 1928, Cherry was forced to move into the home at the age of eight, along with five of her six siblings.
Cherry recalled various aspects of daily life at Pythian Castle, which included specific chores for the boys and girls and the consequences for showing an unwillingness to do them.
“Here we grew everything we ate, or almost,” Cherry said. “The boys took care of the garden. They did the planting and the picking, and then we girls would do the canning. Lots of canning! I don’t think I ever canned anything again after I left the home. I remember I had to peel tomatoes and I’d cry; I didn’t want to do it. That got me a few whippings, too.”
Cherry also remembered how boys and girls living at the home weren’t allowed to speak to each other, which didn’t always sit well with Pythian’s young tenants.
“It was strictly forbidden for the girls and boys to talk to each other, even if they were brother and sister,” Cherry said. “I think that’s why my oldest brother ran away. He couldn’t talk to us and felt lonesome...”
Despite the rigor and structure of life at Pythian Castle, it wasn’t always grim for the children forced to live there. Cherry recalled the joy of attending silent movie screenings in the home’s second-floor auditorium on Friday evenings, which members of the public could attend for the price of a nickel. Yet, even in times of leisure, the home continued to enforce mandatory gender separation.
“It was during the Depression and a nickel was hard to come by, but that old auditorium would be full,” Cherry said. “But we had our own seats and everything. For the movies it was girls on one side and boys on the other.”
Pythian Castle’s Part During the Second World War
In subsequent decades, Pythian Castle took on a role that was quite different from that of a home for widows and orphans. As the Germans continued to push into Eastern Europe, leaving the world’s leaders anxiously on the edge of their seats, the United States Army sought more places to care for the multitudes of injured soldiers who were returning home from the trenches daily. Evidently recognizing Pythian Castle’s usefulness as a place of refuge and rehabilitation, the Army took possession of the property and its acreage in 1942. Thus, Pythian Castle became a part of the neighboring O’Reilly General Hospital.
“The Army bought it for 50 cents on the dollar and forced the Knights out,” said Lewis. “They had less than a week to vacate.”
According to historian and author David Fiedler, Springfield’s geographical location also played a factor in the military’s decision to occupy Pythian Castle.
“Springfield’s network of transportation routes was another significant feature. In addition to the famed Route 66—which connected the city with Fort Leonard Wood and Jefferson Barracks to the east and Tulsa and Oklahoma City to the west—another major blacktop highway, Route 65, ran through Springfield. It offered direct links with many of the region’s other major cities.”
In order to accommodate the new influx of soldiers, the military built a series of cinder block rooms in Pythian Castle’s basement. For visitors to the Castle today, they serve as reminders of its dark past.
While Pythian Castle itself held offices and opportunities for entertainment and recreation, its surrounding structures, which no longer exist, served as the extended portion of O’Reilly Hospital, which treated severely wounded soldiers.
“The hospital there was for burn victims,” Finocchario said. “They took in pretty severely injured folk, both from our side and from our enemy’s. You know, they had to take care of them and treat them. If you were clearly severely injured, you would have been treated in a barrack. There were barracks around the castle.”
Temporarily renamed the O’Reilly Service Club, Pythian Castle itself held Army offices and served as an entertainment center, hosting USO events. World renowned entertainers of the time, including Doris Day, Stan Kenton, Bob Hope and Groucho Marx, stopped by the Castle during their USO tours. Just as it had during the Great Depression, Pythian Castle served as a place for leisure during a time marked by tragedy and uncertainty.
“From the big band to the pretty women — they were all there,” Finocchiaro said.
From December 23, 1942 through July 1946, servicemen used Pythian Castle to read, write letters and relax in a peaceful setting far from the frontline. During this time, the building featured a variety of spaces dedicated to different forms of entertainment, including a library, writing room, snack bar with a soda fountain, three-lane bowling alley and a billiards hall. On Wednesdays, Thursdays and Fridays, the first-floor ballroom was turned into a dance hall, with music provided by the O’Reilly Band.
Pythian Castle also became home to numerous Italian and German prisoners of war. In all, about 15,000 Italian and German POWs came to Missouri during World War II.
In August 1943, 14 German POWS came to Pythian Castle for medical treatment. According to Fiedler, this group of Germans was described as “hostile” and rude toward nurses and were thus kept under constant watch. On the other hand, the Italian POWS, who spent time there as laborers, caused no disturbance and were noted as being, “virtually undistinguishable from most of the American employees.”
“Several of the O’Reilly nurses recalled the Italian POWs flirting with them on occasion,” Fiedler wrote. “One of the nurses said, ‘I remember the Italians singing to us in the evenings. They would sit on the steps with their guitars and their beautiful voices and would serenade us.’”
Despite their status as prisoners, it’s evident that many of the POWs kept at Pythian Castle were grateful to be away from the battlefield.
“I don’t think a lot of them were happy to be in that war, so it was perfectly fine for them to be over here,” Finocchiaro said. “They had no complaints.”
While the Italian prisoners wooed the nurses and made themselves both friendly and useful to the rest of the staff, the Castle’s single Japanese prisoner made a particularly profound impression with his kindness. His behavior was rewarded with the gift of paints and paintbrushes, which he used to create a peaceful, mountainous seascape on his cell wall. On the right wall of his cell, he painted an orange and yellow rising sun marked with Japanese letters. Perhaps the soldier’s artwork was an attempt to evoke memories of home in a place undeniably foreign to him. Regardless, these peaceful murals remain a testament to an important time in Pythian Castle’s history.
Their Spirits Live On
“The military auctioned it off in 1993, and a private family purchased it for, I believe, $4,000,” Lewis said. “It was some ridiculously low amount. That family sold it to the current owners.”
Mystery seems synonymous with Pythian Castle — a structure inspired by medieval architecture and built for a group of men moved by ancient ideas of morality and friendship. Where once widows silently shed tears in dark recesses and POWs dreamt of home, now stands a solitary vessel, though it could not be called empty. Indeed, Pythian Castle is far from vacant — that is, if you ask anyone who walks through its undeniably haunted halls.
Pythian Castle doesn’t merely offer tours about its fascinating history, but about its ghostly tenants as well. Over the past several years, some of the paranormal world’s most notable ghost hunters have gathered evidence of the paranormal at Pythian Castle. Hit television shows, including the Discovery Channel’s Ghost Lab and Travel Channel’s Ghost Adventures, have filmed episodes inside the Castle, where history speaks for itself — literally.
“I think anyone who’s here for any length of time will have an experience at some point,” Finocchario said. “I can’t say it’s in one spot — I think they follow us.”
But ghosts aren’t the only ones who pass through Pythian Castle. The building is now a popular venue for wedding receptions and other social events. In addition to hosting ticketed history and ghost tours, Pythian Castle offers Murder Mystery Dinners, holiday events and interactive escape scenarios, which allow visitors to take a trip back in time and pretend to be a POW inspector or an officer on lockdown during World War II.
But perhaps the greatest immersive experience Pythian Castle has to offer is simply a dive into its rich, unique history. As an establishment created for the sake of honoring the binds of friendship, which united the Knights of Pythias in their pursuit of universal peace, it seems dishonorable to reduce Pythian Castle to its entertainment value.
With its medieval façade and proud history, Pythian Castle commemorates the group of thoughtful men who brought it into creation. Out of friendship and duty, Pythian Castle took in the most vulnerable — from widows and orphans to wounded soldiers from foreign lands.
The Knights of Pythias’ Captain Hugh Goold Webb once stated, “If fraternal love held all world bound, how beautiful this world would be.” Nowhere does this statement hold more truth than in the history and beauty of Pythian Castle.