The rain was still falling thickly when Hans Parker, who farmed the land of the Winchester Estate, rode up to Sarah L. Winchester’s gate. He was surprised to see two other cutters ahead of him. It was not often that anybody in Satan Clara Valley entered Mrs. Winchester’s gate; least of all in the dead of winter. Hans glanced through the thickening fall of rain at the desolate front of the Winchester Mansion, the more melancholy in it present neglected state because, like the gateposts, it kept traces of former elegance. Hans had often wondered how such a house had come to be built in that lonely stretch. People said there had once been other houses like it, a sort of valley colony created by railroad barons, who had been murdered by Indians, with their families long before Mrs. Winchester purchased her farmhouse. This tale was confirmed by the fact that there were other Victorian farmhouses still to be discovered under the wild growth of the adjoining fruit orchards. The whole place, even in summer, wore a mournful solitary air, and people wondered why Mrs. Winchester had gone there to settle. “I never knew this place,” Enoch Unger said, “as seemed as far away from humanity.” The three men walked across the drive to the front door. Hans felt a jab of pain in his right arm as Johan Green disappeared into the fields at the Winchester Estate. “Someone had pricked me,” he exclaimed, but Hans and Enoch pressed on to Mrs. Winchester’s front door. People in the Santa Clara Valley did not usually come and go by their front doors, but the two remaining men seemed to feel that, on an occasion which appeared to be so exceptional, the usual and more familiar approach by the kitchen would not be suitable. #RandolphHarris 1 of 11

They had judged rightly; Enoch had hardly lifted the knocker when the door opened and Mrs. Winchester stood before them. “Walk right in,” she said in her usual perky-level tone; and Hans, as he followed, thought to himself: “Whatever’s happened, she’s not going to let it show in her face.” It was doubtful indeed, if anything unwonted could be made to show in Mrs. Winchester’s face. She was dressed for the occasion in a black calico with white spots, a collar or crochet lace fastened by a gold brooch, and a grey woolen shawl, crossed under her arms and tied at the back. Her dark hair, parted above this prominence, passed tight and flat over the tips of her ears into a small brained coil at the nape. Her eyes were a golden honey brown, her complexion was an even white. Her age might have been anywhere from thirty to forty. The room into which she led the two men was the Venetian dining room of the Winchester Mansion. “Please suit yourselves to seats,” she said. The two men, with an increasing air of constraint, took the chairs she pointed out, and Mrs. Winchester sat stiffly down upon a third. “I pressure you gentlemen are wondering what it is I asked you to come here for,” she said in her calming voice. Hans and Enoch murmured an assent. “Well, I allow you may have guest it was to renovate my gardens and fruit orchards. There has been a small spell cast over us and the gardens have grown quite out of control.” Hans looked up sharply, an incredulous smile pinching his lips, “That is some spell, I have been gone a week and hardly recognize this place.” #RandolphHarris 2 of 11

“That is what I said: the estate is bewitched.” Again the two visitors were silent. Hans coughed and cleared his long rattling throat. Mrs. Winchester looked down at her clasped hands, as if she was hiding a precious secret. Hans noticed that the inner folds of her lids were the same uniform white as the rest of her skin, so that when she looked surprised, her rather beautiful eyes looked like the sightless orbs of a marble statue. At that moment, Hans stood up and Mrs. Winchester noticed she saw something like the mark of a hypodermic needle on his neck. He developed a fever, had swelling in his armpits and displayed trouble breathing. Later that evening, he sank into a coma. He died early the next morning. Doctors certified that Hans had died of pneumonia. However, Mrs. Winchester had his blood analyzed, and the blood work pointed to the presence of Yersinia pestis, a lethal bacteria that caused a plague in his blood. Mrs. Winchester and Enoch wondered, how could this happen? They uncovered a plot that Johan had come up with to kill Hans with a sample of a culture of plague bacteria from medical laboratories. When the men were walking to the Winchester Estate, Johan produced a needle and forcibly stuck it in Hans’ neck, breaking the skin. The glasses were tainted with the germs. Johan’s goal was to penetrate the finest fortress known to many in America, which was the Winchester Mansion. He also brought death to a waiter, a doctor in a white coat, the driver of Mrs. Winchester’s hired car, and even a bum on the street. The evil in him made Mrs. Winchester shudder insofar as an angel could shutter. #RandolphHarris 3 of 11

A silence fell, during which Mrs. Winchester and Enoch seemed to be listening for the sound of a step; but none was heard. Enoch felt an icy chill down his spine. Instinctively he turned away his eyes from Mrs. Winchester. Suddenly, they heard a rusty creaking laugh of one whose mirth was never moved by gaiety. It was linked with the other phenomena—the thrown Bible, the hammering on the doors, the ghostly footsteps, and the eerie wailing of a woman. Mrs. Winchester looked coldly at Enoch. Again Enoch felt the chill down his spine. He tried to dissipate the sensation by speaking with an affection of energy. “Can you tell me, Mrs. Winchester, how this trouble we are experiencing shows itself?” She looked at him for a moment; then she leaned forward. A thin smile of disdain narrowed her colorless lips. “I do not think—I know.” She leaned closer, her voice dropping. “I seen them.” In the ashen light from the veiling of rain beyond the windows Enoch’s eyes seem to give out red sparks. The outer door had opened; they heard the familiar stamping and shaking of a man who rids his garment of the rain before penetrating to the sacred precincts of the best parlor. With that came the arrival of a hooded figure. As he came in her faced the light from the north window, and Enoch’s first thought was that he looked like a drowned man fished out from under the ice—“self-drowned,” he added. But the cold rain and light plays cruel tricks with a man’s color, and even with the shape of one’s features. Mrs. Winchester and Enoch were shocked to see it was Johan. Mrs. Winchester sought for a word to ease the horror. “Well, now, Johan—you look as if you ought to set right up to the Hall of Fires.” #RandolphHarris 4 of 11

The feeble attempt was unavailing. Johan never moved nor answered. He stood among them silent, incommunicable, like one risen from the dead. Enoch grabbed him by the shoulder. Still Johan did not move. Enoch’s hand dropped from his shoulder. In spite of the man’s rough bullying power he seemed to be undefinably awed by Johan’s look and tone. They were all very disturbed. The Bible fell from the top most shelf of the book case in the dining room and landed open on the rug. Enoch and Mrs. Winchester could only stare at the good book. Before their astonished eyes the pages began to turn, all by themselves, from right to left, as though invisible fingers were leafing through them. From somewhere beneath the table came a deep rumble. The vibration was so powerful that they could feel their legs tremble. It was as though a huge generator had started up. An atmosphere of menace and threat seemed to pervade the room. The air felt charged. Johan was flung backward, as if someone had pushed him in the chest. He fell into an armchair. Another tremor came from the floor. Then, Johan levitated to the ceiling and like Satan, fell as if he was lightning from Heaven through the floor and there was no more sign of him. Indeed Mrs. Winchester and Enoch were trembling.  Mrs. Winchester stormed over to the widow. The dayhad turned to a velvety black night, the kind that melted your vision around the edges. She took a quick look over the gardens and saw a legion of demons pruning and trimming the boxwood hedges, and the glorious evergreen trees. She sat down at her table and pressed her forehead against its coo, wood surface. Enoch was sweating bullets and threw the Bible angrily onto the floor. “Mrs. Winchester, I believe the Good Book is conjuring up these hauntings!” he said. #RandolphHarris 5 of 11

Mrs. Winchester nodded. “You knew…or you thought you knew…you were meeting with the dead?” Enoch bent his head again. The rain continued to fall in a steady unwavering sheet against the window, and he felt as if a winding sheet were descending from the sky to envelop them all in a common grave as an enormous white mist appeared in the mansion. “Prayer is not any good. In this kind of thing, it is no manner of use; you know it is not. I called you hear, Enoch, because you remember. A long winter night…they drove a stake through her breast.” “Who’s breast?” “Oh, Enoch, you must remember. A woman who called herself Eve, claiming that this was the Garden of Eden. Not that Victorian tradition is wrong, but the farmers said she committed the first act of evil.” Neither had any great urge to leave the house—not that time of night and without good reason. The Butler showed Enoch to his sleeping chambers and Mrs. Winchester slept in the Daisy Bedroom that evening. But, at around 3am, the house was wide awake again. They heard, plainly the mourful cries of a woman. This time they were coming from the third floor. It almost seemed as though she were crying out for her lost children. It went on for ages, Mrs. Winchester felt helpless to do anything. After that night, the hooded figure began to appear more frequently. The screaming at the windows and the hammering on the doors resumed. Doors started slamming. Mrs. Winchester and Enoch went to inspect what was happening. There was a man and three women tearing through the house, but no one had let them in. #RandolphHarris 6 of 11

“What is God’s name do you think you are playing at!” Mrs. Winchester demanded. Enoch was angry. “No one invited you here,” he said. “No,” Allister said, “but nonetheless you need me.” “Last night the gates of hell opened up and now you are in my home. I will not have such disrespect! All four of you are to leave at once!” said Mrs. Winchester. Abruptly, the dynamics of the situation had changed—changed utterly and in the most chilling way. Enoch tried to speak, but the word simply would not come. There was a tense silence. Something was cautioning Enoch not to inflame the situation further. Then Allister had begun speaking in a strange language. The women appeared to be chanting; their heads were no longer bowed but raised up and tilted to one side. Their eyes were closed. Mrs. Winchester could not tell what kind of language they were speaking, but they must have disturbed something. That rumbling sound, only this time it was louder and did not stay under the dining room table. It started to move across the floor. They could feel the floor vibrating under them—like there was something moving under the floorboards, very fast. And it went out into the hall. The paranormal activity was of a different order. Mrs. Winchester had never seen the like of it. The walls started to bleed, the chandeliers saw, and the house moaned and groaned. Allister and these women had brought a stronger menace into their home, one that was gaining ground by the second. Then at once it all stopped. #RandolphHarris 7 of 11

Everyone in the home went into a shock. They all knelt there, just stiff with fear. They could not move. They could not speak. All they could do was blink their eyes. Then there was a gradual coldness in the room. It crept up on them and chilled them to the bone. They heard the doorknob turn and the door slowly open. The cold intensified. But there was nothing they could do. This figured blocked the doorway. It was very surreal and terrifying. It is very hard to say what this creature was. It was huge, and it had wings. It was a demon. Mrs. Winchester started addressing the creature. “What are you doing in my home?” Astonishingly, a very deep voice was coming from all around the room. From the ceiling, the floor, everywhere. They could not tell if it was right before them, behind them, below or above—it was everywhere. “Give me what I want and I will leave!” it bellowed. “If you do not, I will take your soul this instance! You were given instructions to build a house and never stop building! Do not dwell on ghosts, and spirits! Do not associate with these common folk. Build, build, build or you will die a horrible death in the depths of hell! He continued with a chuckle. “This is our homes and you must pay the price. It is dangerous to meddle with the wishes of demons.” Mrs. Winchester was studded. “These guests, they are mine. You have been too distracted and I have come to claim their souls. Honor my wishes or you will meet the same fate. No guests are allowed in this house!” #RandolphHarris 8 of 11

The mansion started to rumbled and groan like it was hungry, the guests flew into the walls and disappeared. The demon crashed through the skylight, leaving Mrs. Winchester terribly shaken. She had the rooms torn down to see if she could find the bodies, but the search was in vain. They were rebuilt. Stairs to the ceiling, for hopes that their souls would materialize and leave. A door that opens to the wall, as a portal for these lost souls. Chimneys that stop just short of the roof to trap demons. From that day on, nothing was safe. It was as though the visit of the strangers had unleashed the fury of something unholy. From the day on, Mrs. Winchester had an icy shadow of loneliness as bitter as the Alaskan winters. The mansion grew more and more substantial. And when the servants looked at Mrs. Winchester’s face, they saw she had an honest, open expression and kind brown eyes. When she smiled, she smiled warmly. Neighbors often came with a loaf of bread they had baked, and also brought brown woolen blanket, furs, and would leave with frightened faces, and tatted clothing, never able to speak with Mrs. Winchester. The Winchester mansion, which contains orders and offices of Spirits that are even said to have conversed with Solomon, together with seals and characters belonging to each spirit. I Do invocate, conjure, and command thee, O thou Spirit Forneus and the 29 legions of spirits you govern, to appear and to show thyself visibly unto me before this Circle in fair and comely shape, without any deformity or tortuosity; by the name and in the name IAH and VAU, which Adam heard and spake; and by the name of God, AGLA, which Lot heard and was saved with his family; and by the name IOTH, which Jacob heard from the angel wrestling with him, and was delivered from the hand of Esau. #RandolphHarris 9 of 11

And by the name ANAPHAXETON which Aaron heard and spake and was made wise; and by the name ZABAOTH, which Moses named and all the rivers were turned into blood; and by the name ASHER EHYEH ORISTON, which Moses named, and all the rivers brought forth frogs, and they ascended into the houses, destroying all things; and by the name ELION, which Moses named, and there was great hall such as had not been since the beginning of the World; and by the name ADONAI, which Moses named, and there came up locusts, which appeared upon the whole land, and devoured all which the hail had left; and by the name SCHEMA AMATHIA which Ioshua called upon, and the sun stayed his course; and by the name ALPHA and OMEGA, which Daniel named, and destroyed Bel, and slew the Dragon; and in the name EMMANUEL, which the three children, Shadrach, Meshach and Abed-nego, snag in the midst of the fiery furnace, and were delivered; and by the name HAGIOS; and by the SEAL of ADONI; and by ISCHYROS, ATHANATOS, PARACLETOS; and by O THEOS, ICTROS, ATHANATOS; and by these three secret names, AGLA, ON, TETRAGRAMMATON, do I adjure and constrain thee. And by these names, and by all other names of the LIVING and TRUE GOD, the LORD ALMIGHTY, I do exorcise and command thee, O SPIRIT BALAM, even by Him Who spake the Word and it was done, and to Whom all creatures are obedient; and by the dreadful judgments of God; and by the uncertain Sea of Glass, which is before the DIVINE MAJESTY, mighty and powerful; by the four beast before the throne, having eyes before and behind; by the fire round about the throne; by the holy angels of Heaven; and by the wisdom of God. #RandolphHarris 10 of 11

I do potently exorcise thee, that thou appearest here before this Circle, to fulfill my will in all things which shall seem good unto me; by the Seal of BASDATHEA BALDACHIA; and by this name PRIMEUMATON, which Moses named, and the Earth opened, and did swallow up Kora, Dathan, and Abiram. Wherefore thou shalt make faithful answers unto all my demands, O Spirits BALAM and FORNEUS, and shalt perform all my desires so far as in thine office thou art capable hereof. Wherefore, come thou, visibly, peaceably, and affably, now without delay, to manifest that which I desire, speaking with a clear and perfect voice, intelligibly, and to mine understanding. Magic is not a disease but the operation and influence of demon powers. The wide scope of occult power possessed by spirits helps explain why they can cause so much mischief. Through the phenomena of levitation, apports, telekinesis, and materializations, it is not difficult to see how a person endowed with strong mediumistic powers can do a great deal of harm, especially in the closely associated realm of magic. Magic defense enlists supernatural agencies to counteract or undo the mischief wrought by magic persecution. Various kinds of spells, charms, or incantations are employed. In spiritistic séances it is an established fact that injuries inflicted upon a phantasm are sustained by the medium, even in the case of animal phantasms. Many defensive customs developed to combat this threat since magic persecution involves materialization. If a victim can injure an aggressive phantasm, one has won the struggle. Missionaries all over the World have claimed to have witnessed cases of possession and repossession among converts from ancient idolatrous cultures, who live in servile fear and abject bondage to Satan. #RandolphHarris 11 of 11

Winchester Mystery House

This is Sarah Winchester’s beloved dog, Zip🐶 This cute pup once roamed the many halls of this estate. Do you think Zip ever got lost like so many of us do? https://winchestermysteryhouse.com/

Join us on March 11th for the third installment of our Centennial Speaker Series! We invite you to solve the mystery of the Asian-inspired art and design lurking in Sarah Winchester’s very Victorian mansion. “Japonisme—a Passion for Japan” explores the decorating sensation that swept the western world during the last three decades of the 19 th century, and left an indelible mark on Sarah Winchester’s San Jose home. Speakers include Curator at SFO Museum, Nicole Mullen & West Coast Editor for Old House Journal, Brian Colman. Tickets available now! #100yearsofmystery

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