A rush of icy air swept across my skin. Goose bumps rose. Shivering, I blinked, trying to pierce the shifting darkness, a cold dark void with muted spots of blue light shrouded in a rising mist. I was freezing. My insides shivered with a new fear. I suddenly caught sight of a woman wearing a black cape standing in the center of the hallway near the Crystal Bedroom. I immediately stopped advancing down the hallway, thinking it was a vengeful spirit looking for trouble. To my amazement, as I hastily drew near her, the figure simply vanished. I walk through the hall and looked all around, but there was not the slightest sign of anybody, and nowhere where anyone could have gone. I walked toward the library and carried on, and when I drew near my desk, I saw the figure again. This visible spirit had been one of the more ominous ghosts I had ever beheld. I was so used to shadows, interior voices, and even possessions; but to see the seemingly solid form was terrifying. I started to approach her; I saw something walking across the room wearing a grey cloak. Standing in the doorway, I was utterly shattered. This was a little more than I could easily bear. The morning after I saw these apparitions I was in a state of terror, and could not bear to be left alone, daylight though it was. At this moment the unwonted sound of carriage wheels and many hoofs upon the road, arrested my attention. They seemed to be approaching from the high ground overlooking the fruit orchard, and very soon the equipage emerged from that point. The wild gallop of the horses came thundering toward my home with the speed of a hurricane. The excitement of the scene was made more painful by the clear, long-drawn screams of a woman’s voice from the carriage window. #RandolphHarris 1 of 5
We all advanced in curiosity and horror. There appeared unto me the resemblance of an aged gentleman with a pole or staff in his hand, resembling that he was wont to carry when living to kill the moles withal. The spectrum approached near the young man, whom you may imagine not a little surprised at the appearance of one that he knew to be dead. This apparition, of the old man with the pole, was only the harbinger of more extraordinary events. At evening prayers, during the Psalms, the wood in my home seemed to become more chilly than usual. The whispering in my house was more persistent tonight. I seemed not to be rid of it in my room. I have not noticed this before. I was very much troubled in sleep. No definite image presented itself, but I was pursued by the very vivid impression that wet lips were whispering into my ear with great rapidity and emphasis for some time together. After thus, I supposed, I fell asleep, but was awakened with a start by a feeling as if a hand were laid on my shoulder. To my intense alarm I found myself standing at the top of the lowest flight of the first staircase. The moon was shining brightly enough through the large window to let me see that there was an apparition on the second or third step. I could make no comment. I crept up to be again, I do not know how. Yes, mine is a heavy burden. The morning of 26th of November was cold and tempestuous. At an early hour the servants had occasion to go into the front hall of the residence. What was their horror upon observing the form of the butler, Otto Meckelburg, lying upon the landing of the principal staircase in an attitude which inspired the gravest fears. Assistance was procured, and a universal consternation was experienced upon the discovery that he had been the object of a brutal and murderous attack. #RandolphHarris 2 of 5
The vertebral column was fractured in more than one place. This might have been the result of a fall: it appeared that the stair-carpet was loosed at one point. However, in addition to this, there were injuries inflicted upon the eyes, nose and mouth, as if by the agency of some savage animal, which, dreadful to relate, rendered those features unrecognizable. The vital spark was, it is needless to add, completely extinct, and had been so, upon the testimony of respectable medical authorities, for several hours. The author of authors of this mysterious outrage are alike buried in mystery, and the most active conjecture has hitherto failed to suggest a solution of the melancholy problem afford by this appalling occurrence. I could not overcome my anxiety. The rest of the day—the late afternoon reception, the dinner itself, the after-dinner gathering—passed easily, even routinely, but did not seem to me very real; it was not very convincing. The vision of Llanada Villa kept rising in my mind’s eye. How odd, how very beautiful the experience had been, yet there was no one to whom I might speak about it. The other did not notice my discomfort. In fact they claimed that I was looking well, they were delighted to see me and to shake my hand. Many were old acquaintances, men and women, but primarily women; a number of them wanted to be introduced to me and tour my lovely home. At dinner, though my voice was distracted, I spoke of the usual matters. Thought I had changed into a linen dress of pale blue, my mind kept drifting away from the others, from the new and handsome dark colonial dining room. I smiled at other, and laughed with the others. Though there were people who clearly wished to talk with me, I kept drifting back to the horrible events of earlier, and knew a night of insomnia awaited. #RandolphHarris 3 of 5
It was a soft clear evening, and I loitered in the garden, speculating upon the possible meanings of the apparitions. Llanada Villa was a marvelous and mystic beauty, and I almost forgot the sinister oppression with which its inhuman age and massiveness had chocked and weighed on my spirit. I had already walked nearly a mile before reaching my favourite tree, and by that time the moon was shining brilliantly. The moon was fully of idyllic and magnetic influence—and when I looked at the windows of Llanada Villa, they flashed and twinkled with that silvery splendour, as if unseen hands had lighted up the rooms to receive guests. Then for a moment, I felt sour fear. Sinister sculptures leered menacingly from the oppressive walls. As the night drew on, the housemaid’s head was thrust into a very strait place betwixt a bed’s head and a wall, and forced by the strength of men to be removed thence, and that not without being much hurt and bruised, so that much blood appeared about it: upon this it was advised that she should be bleeded, to prevent any ill-accident that might come of the bruise; after bleeding, the ligature or binder of her arm was removed from thence and conveyed about her middle, where it was strained with such violence that the girding had almost stopped her breath and killed her, being cut asunder it made a strange and dismal noise, so that the other servants were affrighted by it. At other times, housemaids had been in danger to be strangled with cravats and handkerchiefs that they had worn about their necks, which had been drawn so close that with the sudden violence they had near been choked to death, and hardly escaped death. #RandolphHarris 4 of 5
After a steeply descending walk of about a mile through my home, one could tell there was something abnormal about the whole business—the strange things we had tried so hard to hid. The harpsichord music was something of a comfort, as Mozart always is, with his merriment, no matter what the composition, but nevertheless, I felt restless and unsafe in these warm rooms where I was accustomed to spend many hours in comfort alone. The specter had showed great offense at the periwigs which young male servants used to wear, for they were often torn from their heads after a very strange manner. The male servants would often find their periwigs removed from their boxes and rendered into many small parts and tatters. Hans Bogner, while lying in his chamber with his periwig on his head, to secure it from danger, within a little time it was town from him, and reduced into very small fragments. I felt confusion and guilt. I had to get my mind clear. Walking through the twisting corridors of my mansion, from a pitch-black room there burst the most appalling and demoniac succession of cries that I had ever heard. Not more unutterable could have been the chaos of hellish sound if the pit itself had opened to release the agony of the damned, for in one inconceivable cacophony was centered all the supernatural terror and unnatural despair of animate nature. Human it could not have been—it is not in man to make such sounds—and without a thought, I frantically ran until I was out of breath. Afterward I was not able to shake off the maddening sensation of being haunted and hunted. I had seen a good deal in the last few years, and was prepared to believe and keep silent about many appalling and incredible secrets of Llanada Villa. The black inner World, of whose existence we had not known before. #RandolphHarris 5 of 5
Many strange and fantastical things have been done by spirits or demons in The Winchester Mystery House. In 1911, a barrel of salt of considerable quantity had been observed to march from the kitchen to the dining room without any human assistance. As well, an unidentified ghost has been seen entering the mansion, vanishing as she enters the gate, while a figure suspected to be Mrs. Winchester has been seen in the mansion corridors at night, apparently knitting with white-hot needles, seething over the memory of her daughter Annie, who died as an infant. https://winchestermysteryhouse.com/
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Randolph Harris II International 