Home » Antiques (Page 8)
Category Archives: Antiques
A House Built for Spirits?

Most houses declare the activities they shelter; they are the clear expressive cuticle of a life flowing close to the surface; but the haunted Winchester Mansion, know as Llanada Vila, is a mystery that is as impenetrable as death. The tall windows are like blinking eyes, the great door is a shut mouth. Inside there may be sunshine, the scent of daisies, and a pulse of life through all the arteries of the huge frame; or a mortal solitude, where vampires, demons, and ghost ledge in the disjointed walls and the 2,000 solid gold keys to the doors remain unused. Winter approaching, and Mrs. Winchester finding herself once more alone, it was surmised among her women that she must fall into a deeper depression of spirits. However, far from this being the case, she displayed such cheerfulness and equanimity of humor. The wind stripped the gardens of their exotic plants and bright flowers. The European black locust, English yew and English walnut, Peruvian pepper were all dormant, but the date palms, Spanish and Norfolk pines were still standing strong. The unique collection of towering monkey puzzle trees, seemed to come alive as the branches swayed hither and tither. Mrs. Winchester kept her room in this black season, sitting over the fire, embroidering, reading books of devotion, and praying frequently in her observational tower. As for the servants, aching with rheumatism on the marble floor, they galloped through the mansion like men and women with witches after them, preparing for the arrival of Mrs. Winchester. #RandolphHarris 1 of 8

A moment later, the door to the parlor opened, and there stood Mrs. Winchester. She held her Hypnotic Colombian Emerald Estate Ring of 10.75 carats in one hand and had drawn a scarf over her shoulders; but the rich saturation and fine vivid hues of blue and green shone through it like the moon in a mist, and her countenance sparkled with beauty. Suddenly, there was a loud noise at the other end of the salon, as a heavy object being dragged down the passage; and presently a dozen men were seen hauling across the threshold the shrouded thing from the ox-cart. Mrs. Winchester had grown pale. Before her eyes was a crypt. They sky turned to a steel grey, against which Lalanada Villa stood out. A wind strayed through the mansion. Mrs. Winchester fell in a swoon; and when she came to her senses, in her own chamber, she heard the butler had locked the doors to the observational tower and forbidden anyone to set foot in there. The place was never opened again until the butler died thirteen years later; and then it was that the other servants saw for the first time the horror that Mrs. Winchester had kept in there. When the crypt was opened, it flooded the mansion with a sense of violence, grotesque visions, fragmentary images of the souls taken by the Winchester Rifle, tormenting lines of verse, obstinate presentiments of pictures once beheld, indistinct impression of rivers, towers, and cupolas, gathered in the length of journeys half forgotten. Someone opened the widows and let in a blast of that strange, neutral air which walks the Earth between darkness and dawn. Someone let a demon into the house. He walked vaguely, like a blind man on creaking boots. #RandolphHarris 2 of 8

Mrs. Winchester stood, as it seemed, on a threshold, yet no tangible gateway was in front of her. Only a wide vista of light, mild yet penetrating as gathered glimmer of innumerable stars, expanded gradually before her eyes, in blissful contrast to the cavernous darkness from which the demon had emerged. She stepped forward, not frightened, but hesitating, and as her eyes began to grow more familiar with the melting depths of light about her, this demon confirmed for the first time that witch covens still existed and revealed what he described as some of the ancient secrets of the cult—even though half of them were of his own creation. He stopped short of revealing some of the inner secrets of his cult, although ironically one of the vows of newly initiated witches was that they should not speak of the mysteries at all. He gave Mrs. Winchester new plans on how to build her mansion, and she promised to keep his presence a secret. However, by opening the doors of his covens and revealing some of the rudiments of ritual worship, the demon stirred up a new hornets’ nets. Although many people in Santa Clara County responded and began enquiring about the vast expansion of the Winchester Mansion, the Sunday papers took up the gauntlet, and one after the other ran exposes of what Mrs. Winchester and her staff of witches and warlock do, under intriguingly lurid headlines proclaiming the dangers of black magic and the “frenzied dances rituals at Midnight in the Grand Ball Room” of the covens. A new witch fever developed; important church men spoke out against this infectious evil. #RandolphHarris 3 of 8

As Mrs. Winchester gazed, her heart beat with a soft and rapturous surprise; so exquisite a promise she read in the summons of the demon, which told her as long as she continued construction on her mansion, she would have eternal life. “And so death is not the end after all,” in a sheer gladness Mrs. Winchester exclaimed aloud. “I always knew it could not be. I believed in Darwin, of course. I do still; but then Darwin himself said tht he was not sure about the soul—at least, I think he did.” Her gaze lost itself in the ethereal remoteness of her mansion. “How beautiful! How satisfying!” she said. “Perhaps now I shall really know what it is to live.” The Oakland Tribune claimed that the Winchester Mansion was “forged by the biggest upsurge of black magic and timeless secrets of witchcraft since the Middle Ages.” That was not an overstatement. If they only knew it, these towers, turrets, curved walls, cupolas, cornices, gables, balconies, ornamental finials and finely detailed trimwork that gave the mansion a castlelike appearance were just the tip of the iceberg. “I have never n that fullness of life which we all feel ourselves capable of knowing; though my life has not been without scattered hints of it, like the scent of Earth which comes to one sometimes far out at sea,” said Mrs. Winchester. “Many words define my home, love and sympathy are those in commonest use, but I am not even sure that they are the right ones, and so few people know what they mean.” What had been emerging for some years during the construction of the Winchester mansion was an astonishing revival in occult interests and ritual magic. #RandolphHarris 4 of 8

Passersby said they felt the darker forces of the occult and the so-called black magic groups emanating from the estate. For those newspaper investigators to whom the whole occult community could be wrapped up into one malevolent package, there was sufficient evidence from interviews to show that the witch cult was very much alive and expanding the mansion day and night. In the eyes of the enquiring beholder, the Winchester Mansion was not only beautiful, but bizarre. They could see witchcraft in the stained glass, black magic in the observational tower, and satanism in the main house. It was, of course, too much to expect witch fraternity, the massive home could not be seen nor understood by the general public. Magic is magic, and because the secrecy surrounding the estate, Mrs. Winchester was bound by an oath of silence. However, the newspapers became intent on exposing what went on being the closed doors of the witches’ “temple.” With rumors of devil worship, and blood-lust abounding it, Mrs. Winchester and her estate made an excellent source of entertainment for the valley. Nothing like it had been seen for many, many years and suddenly the media were filled with witch stories. The gossip from the towns people, one could hear their voices rise and fall, like the murmur of two fountains answering each other across a garden full of flowers. Nothing had changed in the public’s perception of the occult and the paranormal. The discovery of black magic rites being performed on their own doorstep put the fear of God into the villagers. There was always suspicious of witches covens locally. #RandolphHarris 5 of 8

People used to talk vaguely about them; witches, black magicians, no one could differentiate because they had no knowledge on which to judge. One morning in March of 1889 it was discovered a huge granite slab covering one of the graves in the village churchyard had been moved, and the remains of the body of a girl Maria H. who died in 1720 had been removed. The story gradually unfolded when one of those taking part in what transpired to be a black mass staged inside the old Cathedral Basilica of St. Joseph confessed to a newspaper. The skull and bones of Maria H. had been taken from the grave and arranged inside the church over a makeshift altar. A Celtic cross in a circle was painted in blood-red paint on the wall and a white chicken was sacrificed in an hour-long ritual. Over one years later, locals still talk of the witches of the Basilica because, at the time, it caused an uproar of protest culminating in a powerful article published in the Oakland Tribune, which dismissed talk of white witches who heal and do good and thundered “in our considered opinion witchcraft and black magic are a state of mind…youngsters out for kicks will find only depravity, disillusion and destruction in this thing called witchcraft.” Everyone has heard stories about witches and the Winchester Mansion. After the death of the Mrs. Winchester in 1922, the mansion remained closed for a year, but no one knew why. When it was opened, investigators discovered that thirteen people including a priest had been killed and left in the mansion. Santa Clara police admit that after the place was closed it was the scene of satanic rituals as well as drug dealing. Historians speculate that the mansion rests on the bones of angry Ayrans. #RandolphHarris 6 of 8

Almost everything will eventually be restored, although you can find spots where the cracked plaster has not been fixed after the 1906 earthquake. This has been left on purpose, like a frozen moment in time, to show people how the house actually looked when Mrs. Winchester lived there. Many say the house is haunted. The house was once a community showplace, and is today still surrounded by velvety green lawns and overlooks the hill. The mansion was once the sight of lavish teas, balls, musicals and banquets for visiting dignitaries. From there, the Winchester Mystery House was born and is now open for tours of the 110 of the 160 rooms. There once were 500 to 600 rooms and over 700 acres of land. The Winchester Mystery House has continued to expand and flourish, and has accumulated what can only be described as a substantial band of followers, some taking the stories as gospel, others using them as guidance and adjusting them to meet their own requirements. The Wicca movement has left contenders waiting in the wings, wondering if the rituals work and if they will ever see the manifestation of Mrs. Winchester. Well can always try. O THOU great, powerful, and mighty KING AMAIMON, who bearest rule by the power of the SUPREME GOD EL over all spirits both superior and inferior of the Infernal Orders in the Dominion of the East; I do invocate and command thee by the especial and trye name of GOD; and by that God that THOU Worshippest; and by the Seal of thy creation; and by the most mighty and powerful name of GOD, IEHOVAH TETRAGRAMMATION who cast thee out of Heaven with all other infernal spirits; and by all the most powerful and great names of God who created Heaven, and Earth, and Hell, and all things in them contained; and by their power and virtue; and by the name PRIMEUMATON who commandeth the whole host of Heaven; that thou mayest cause, enforce, and compel the Spirits of William W. Winchester of Sarah L. Winchester to come unto me here before this Circle in a fair and comely shapes, without harm unto me or unto any other creature, to answer truly and faithfully unto all my requests; so that I may accomplish my will and desire in knowing or obtaining any matter or thing which by office thou knowest is proper for him to perform or accomplish, through the power of GOD, EL, Who created and doth dispose of all things both celestial, aerial, terrestrial, and infernal. #RandolphHarris 7 of 8

Unite physical and spiritual discipline in order and create a dynamic of synergy which will assist in tearing the veil between physical and spiritual realms. Allow powerful changes to take place as your powerful spirits integrate and merge with mine. Allow the inner darkness to spill from the crown into outer darkness and mold and shape the energy of your spirits as a clear vision before my eyes. Allow my consciousness to expand until it is made whole and able to oppose all creation and all limitations. I CONJURE thee, O Spirits of William W. Winchester and Sarah L. Winchester that you will appear unto me to answer to such things as I would have desired of thee, or would have been satisfied in; I do in the name, and by the power and dignity of the Omnipresent and Immortal Lord God of HOSTS IEHOVAH TETRAGRAMMATON, the only Creator of Heaven, and Earther, and Hell of all things both visible and invisible, bless thee, and fulfill thee of all thine office, joy, and place; and I do bind thee in the Winchester Mystery House there to remain for eternity! Let all the company in Heaven bless thee! Let the sun, moon, and all the stars bless thee! Let the LIGHT and all the hosts of Heaven bless thee into the light of udder salvation, and into joy unspeakable. And as thy names and seals contained in this mansion, your eternal home is prepared for the blessed and the damned spirits, and there to remain for eternity, and be remembered as immortal and eternal before the face of GOD and man, who shall come to bless thee and thy World with love and joy. Surrender yourself into my will; I will conduct your undertaking to your best interest. By the Twelfth Table, laid upon the Table or Seal of the Spirits, I compel you to appear immediately, and to serve in all things. #RandolphHarris 8 of 8

Winchester Mystery House

Sarah L.Winchester’s arrival to Santa Clara Valley would be the equivalent of a billionair moving to a small farming town and spending $100,000,000 building a mansion, and someone owning three Rolls Royce sedans, just as a perspective. Featured above is one of Sarah’s beautiful SIX kitchens 👩🍳 What are you preparing in your kitchen today for Thanksgiving? https://winchestermysteryhouse.com/
Frequent Occurrences of Hauntings

Whether or not one believes in Mrs. Winchester’s superstitions about spirits, it is harder to dismiss frequent occurrences of hauntings which assaulted one’s vision wherever one would look. The question of the “evil” in her home had already become too grave for her. The place was known to swarm with ghosts. Mrs. Winchester was seated by her fire. abruptly she saw a shadow of a vast spider hung suspended in the air, just beyond the barrier. It passed swiftly around her and seemed to probe ever towards her, but only to draw back with extraordinary jerky movements, as might a living person who touched the hot bar of a grate. Round and round it moved and round and round she turned. Then, it retired almost beyond the glow of the vacuum light and then came straight towards her, appearing to gather form and solidity as it came. There seemed a vast malign determination behind the movement that must succeed. She was on her knees and jerked back, falling on to her left hand and hip, in a wild endeavour to get back from the advancing thing. With her right hand she was grabbing madly for her ivory-gripped Volcanic Navy pistol which she had let slip. The brutal thing came with one great sweep straight towards her. Mrs. Winchester yelled. Then, just as suddenly as it had swept over, it seemed to be hurled back by some mighty, invisible force. It was some moments before she realized that she was safe, and then she got herself together, feeling horribly done and shaken and glancing round and round the barrier, but the thing had vanished. Yet she had learnt something, for she knew not that the mansion was haunted. #RandolphHarris 1 of 10

Suddenly, as Mrs. Winchester crouched there, she saw what had so nearly given the monster an opening through the barrier. In her movements within the halls of her mansion, she noticed that the door to nowhere was open. She closed it and felt almost safe again. For a long time, she felt uneasy, as she saw odd wavering over among the shadows near the door to nowhere. And a minute afterwards the door was opened and slammed wide with tremendous force. The next instant the thing made one swift, vicious dart at her from the shadows. Instinctively she started sideways from it and so plucked her hand from upon the fireplace poker, though—owning to her inconceivable foolishness—it had been enabled for a second time to pass through the door to nowhere. She shook for a time with sheer fear. Mrs. Winchester moved right to the center of a pentacle in the room and knelt there, making herself as small and compact as possible. She could not be sure if she was being influenced unconsciously or was she in danger? With her suspicious watchfulness, a mysterious hand materialized out of the shadows and seemed to leap almost into her face, so nearly did it approach her, but it was thrown back by some altogether enormous, over-mastering force. Yet, apart from the dazed fright in which it left her, she had for a moment that feeling of spiritual sickness, as if some delicate, beautiful, inward grace had suffered which is felt only upon the too near approach of the ab-human and is more dreadful in a strange way than any physical pain that can be suffered. She knew by this more of the extent and closeness of the danger, and for a long time Mrs. Winchester was simply cowed by the brutality of that Force upon her spirit. #RandolphHarris 2 of 10

Mrs. Winchester had retired from the scene and, visiting the ample house from attic to cellar, making sure she was alone, and knew herself in safe possession and, as she tacitly expressed it, let herself go. Then she could, as seemed to her, most intimately wander and wait, linger and listen, feel her fine attention, never in her life before so fine, on the pulse of the great vague place: she preferred the lampless hours and only wished she might have prolonged each day the deep crepuscular spell. Later—rarely much before midnight, but then for a considerable vigil—she watched with her glimmering light; moving slowly, holding it higher, playing it far, rejoicing above all, as much as one might, in open vistas, reaches of communication between rooms and by passages; the long straight chance or show, as she would have called it, for the revelation she pretended to invite. It was a practice Mrs. Winchester found she could perfectly “work” without exciting remark; no one was in the least the wiser for it. She slowly opened some rich music. As she walked along the marble of the hall pavement, large black-and-white squares that she remembered the admiration of her childhood and that had then in her, as she now saw, for the growth of an early conception style. There was the effect of the dim reverberating tinkle of some far-off bell hung in the belfry—in the depths of the house, of the past, of that mystical other World that might have flourished for her had she attended to its midnight hour calls. The mansion held, as it were, this mystical other World, and the indescribably finer murmur of its heart strings was the sigh there, the scarce audible wail it would cry out in the night. #RandolphHarris 3 of 10

With her presence, Mrs. Winchester awakened the ghostly life as the departed soul of the mansion enjoyed. They were mostly shy, but most of the were not really sinister; at least they were not as she had hitherto felt them—before they had taken the Form she so yearned to make them take, the Form she at moments saw herself in the light of fairly hunting on tiptoe, the points of her evening-shoes, from room to room and from storey to storey. However, Mrs. Winchester spent the rest of the night in a haze of sick fright and so tense that she could not make a single movement naturally. She was in such fear that any desire for action that came to her might be prompted by the Influence that she knew was at work on her. And outside of the barrier that ghastly thing went round and round, grabbing and grabbing in the air at her. There was a horrible wind blowing upon her from the corner of the room to the left of her bed. Then, just as the first touch of dawn came into the sky the unnatural wind ceased in a single moment and she could see no sigh of the hand. The dawn came slowly and presently the wan light filled. However, at about midnight, Mrs. Winchester had a queer knowledge that something was near to her, yet nothing happened for a whole hour after that. Then suddenly she felt the cold, queer wind begin to blow upon her. To her astonishment it seemed now to come from behind her and she whipped round with a hideous quake of feat. The wind hit her in the face. It was flowing up from the floor close to her. She started in a sickening maze of new frights. What on Earth had she done now! Suddenly, as she stared, bewildered, she was aware that there was something queer about her—a funny shadow movement and convolutions. She looked at them stupidly. And then, abruptly, Mrs. Winchester knew that the wind was blowing up at her from the floor. #RandolphHarris 4 of 10

A queer indistinct smoke became visible to her, seeming to pour upwards through the ring and mix with the moving shadows. Suddenly she realized that she was in more than any mortal danger, for the convoluting shadows about the floor were taking shape and the deadly-man in a top hate was forming within the room. “My goodness,” she said, “This forces has found a ‘gateway’ into my home and the brute is coming through—pouring into the material World, as gas might pour out from the mouth pipe.” Mrs. Winchester knelt for a couple of moments in a sort of stunned fright. Then with a mad, awkward movement, she grabbed for the fireplace poker and something invisible, something living, was jerking t hither and tither. In an instant, it was torn from her grasp with incredible and brutal force. A great black shadow covered it and rose into the air and came at her. She saw that it was the man, vast and nearly in perfect form. Mrs. Winchester gave one crazy yell and jumped over the pentacle and the ring of burning candles and ran despairingly for the door. She fumbled idiotically and ineffectually with the key, and all the time she started, with the feat that was like insanity, toward the Barriers. The man with the top hat was floating towards her. However, the monster was chained, unable to reach her bed. She sprang from the room and slammed the door with a crash. Mrs. Winchester locked it and got to her Blue Séance Room, somehow; for she was trembling so that she could hardly stand, as you can imagine. She locked herself in the room and managed to get the candle lit; then she laid down on the floor and kept quiet for an hour or two, and so she grew steadier. #RandolphHarris 5 of 10

Mrs. Winchester got some rest, but when she woke, she was surrounded by a glowing star of a pentacle. Apparently Mrs. Winchester had tried an exorcism. Exorcism is the process of expelling evil spirits from persons or places by certain adjurations, incantations, magic acts, and formulas. Among ancient peoples, exorcise depended largely o the efficacy of magical formulas, commonly compounded of the names of deities, and repeated with magical ritual over the bodies or object that is possessed. Power to expel evil spirits supposedly resided in the words themselves. Therefore, great importance was attached to the correct recital of the right formulas and the meticulous observance of the prescribed ritual. The recovery of important incantation texts and magical papyri from Babylonian, Assyrian, and Egyptian antiquity demonstrates the widespread believe in demon inhabitation and use of exorcisms. The same prevalence of demon inhabitation has been encountered in the Worldwide missionary outreach from about 1750 to the present. The penetration of China, India, Japan, Burma, Ceylon, and other countries with the Christian gospel has revealed the hold of demonism on pagan cultures and the varied methods of exorcism of evil spirits. The same phenomena exist among primitive people of South America, Africa, and the islands of the sea. The theory is that spirits seek to inhabit the bodies of men (and also animals) to find a resting place and in some inscrutable way obtain physical gratification. When the demon-possessed is in the demonized state and unconscious, inflected physical pain or pleasure is supposedly transferred to the possessing spirit. Discomfort will drive one out of his abode. #RandolphHarris 6 of 10

When prostituted into a ritualistic rigmarole, as in white magic, it becomes a deceiving tool in the hands of Satan’s agents to delude the undiscerning by false miracles and spurious healings. Such diabolic miracles do not destroy Satan’s kingdom, but build it up. Diabolical exorcism does not produce true dispossession, but a mere reallocation. Demonic healing may relieve physical symptoms, but substitute a physical ill or doctrinal form of error. This subterfuge explains in part the increase of theological decadence and phenomenal growth of sect and cults within professing Christianity in these latter days. Under demon control, one of Mrs. Winchester’s servants, a young lady, insisted she must dance for the construction workers, which she did wildly and uncontrollably and with every evidence of demon possession. She became so violent that the only way to control her was to hold her by the hair. Her violent jerking almost pulled out her hair. When the young lady came to, she was asked why she was lying on the floor, but she did not know. She was asked if anyone had pulled her hair, she disavowed any knowledge of it. When she was asked to dance, she replied, “No. I do not know how to dance.” She was sweet, modest, and quiet and completely delivered from the demon that her possessed her. White magic is not always so easy to see its true nature. This form of magic more widespread than black magic, the reason being that it often hides itself behind a religious exterior. Hence, as we have said before, one needs to have great discernment in these matters in order to recognize the forces that are actually being called into play. #RandolphHarris 7 of 10

The religious trimmings can be very deceptive. Again an example: A farm worker at the Winchester mansion was told by a doctor that he would have to have his leg amputated. Because he wanted to save his leg at all costs he went to visit a magic charmer without the doctor’s knowledge. This man told him, “You will have to believe me if you want to be healed.” He went on to repeat a magic charm and then said the Lord’s prayer three times. The man’s pain immediately vanished and when he returned to the hospital it was no longer necessary for his leg to be amputated. The doctors were puzzled. Later however, the man began to suffer from various psychic disturbances and his family to became accident-prone after this. White magic is more often than not accompanied by certain symbols that may include the use of the names of the Trinity, three Lord’s prayers, three verses of Scripture, three psalms, or three crosses and so on. People are thereby deceived and the method of healing is thus often mistaken for true Christian healing. In reality however, the third commandment is being broken, which says, “You shall not take the name of the Lord you God in vain.” Man cannot dictate to God, and man cannot treat God as a servant who is willing to jump to the aid of every magic charmer who so invokes Him. The Bible relegates both charming and the mechanical use of the Scriptures themselves to the level of sorcery, and so we find that white magic is merely black magic under a different guise. Satan is indeed transformed into an angel of light. The sense of compulsion connected with white magic is something quite different from the attitude of faith in the Christian who says, “They will be done.” #RandolphHarris 8 of 10

Black magic becomes a minor legend for its exuberant offensiveness. Blasphemy is a regular component in life, while the most innovative creators in in this maturing medium of occultism shows increasing sympathy for the Devil. Satanic fringes are part of popular culture. People are so bored with the normal that they seek out the occult. Many people want to have a supernatural experience so they can feel alive, be entertained, and have something to talk about. Some people have a great fascination for all that is dark, forbidden, and feared. They consider the Devil their personal God. A daily routine of ritual and magic is normal for some. It is a way for them to open doors to outer gateways and let the Dark Ones march through. Often times, paintings can function as sigils [occult symbols], and create change in accordance with the Magician’s desires, and ultimately fashion a new Dark Aesthetic, and the creation of a Universal Satanic Necropolis. Artwork or any craft can be fueled by the powers of Satan, and it is possible that it will become popular for people who do great works to say, “the Devil made me do it.” Events, ranging from fires and weird illnesses to Earthquakes and ritual murders have been blamed on certain objects, art, and people, and that is why you will notice certain events get cancelled, have to be rescheduled and so forth. This is also why some have to take out extra insurance for their work, family members or property. Handlers have gotten wind of past experiences. Schedasi, Weduse, Tiwisi—I have sinned, I shall sin. Prayer—Eternal God of our all! Our God! hear our voice, spare and have mercy upon us. Accept our prayer in mercy and with pleasure. I have sinned. I have committed transgressions. I have sinned before Thee; I have done that which is displeasing unto Thee here in the Earth. #RandolphHarris 9 of 10

For the sake of Thy great name pardon me all the sins and iniquities and transgression which I have committed against Thee from my youth. Perfect again all the holy names which I have blemished, great champion, terrible, highest God, eternal Lord, God Sabaoth. In the mystery of these vestures of the Holy Ones, I gird up my power in the girdles of righteousness and in truth in the power of the Most High: Ancor: Amacor: Amides: Thoedonias: Anitor: let be might by power: let it endure for ever: in the power of Adonai, to whom the praise and the glory shall be; whose end cannot be. I invoke and move thee, O thou Spirit Purson: and being exalted above ye in the power of the Most High, I say unto thee, Obey! in the name Beralensis, Baldachuensis, Paumachia, and Apologiae Sedes: and of the mighty ones who govern, spirits, Liachidae and ministers of the House of Death: and by the Chief Prince of the seat of Apologia in the Ninth Legion, I do invoke thee and my invoking conjure thee. Ans being exalted above ye in the power of the Most High, I say unto thee, Obey! in the name of him who spake and it was, to whom all creatures and things obey. Moreover I, whom God made in the likeness of God, who is the creator according to his living breath, stir thee up in my name which is the voice of wonder of the mighty God. We need to come to understand that when creating changes within self for the sake of empowerment our external reality also begins to shift reflecting that internal empowerment. When working toward creating external shifts within our external reality our spirit is also empowered by simply exercising our own divine power. #RandolphHarris 10 of 10

Winchester Mystery House

A new chapter of Unhinged is coming this Fall. Stay tuned🤫 https://www.winchestermysteryhouse.com/

Her Life Was Unavoidably Affected by Departed Souls

According to legend, Mrs. Winchester enacted a nightly séance to help with her building plans and for protection from “bad” spirits. While she sometimes drew up simple sketches of the building idea, there were never any blueprints…or building inspectors! In the morning, she would meet with John Hansen, her dutiful foreman, and go over new changes and additions. There was an Electric Pentacle in the Blue Séance Room which was the most marvellous “Defense” against certain manifestations. Mrs. Winchester used the shape of the defensive star for this protection because she had, personally, no doubt at all that there was some extraordinary virtue in the old magic figure. Sometimes Mrs. Winchester had little doubt during her séances that she had run up against an abnormal monster, and she meant to take every possible care, for the dangers was abominable. One night, Mrs. Winchester turned to fit the Electric Pentacle, setting it so that each of its “points” and “vales” of the drawn pentagram upon the floor. Then she connected up the battery and the next instant the pale blue glare from the intertwining vacuum tubes shone out. She glanced about her then, with something of a sigh of relief, and realized suddenly that the dusk was upon her, for one of the windows had turned black and unfriendly. Then she stated round at the big, empty room, over the double-barrier of electric and candle light, and had an abrupt, extraordinary sense of weirdness thrust upon her—in the air, you know, it seemed; as it were a sense of something inhuman impending. The room was full of the stench of bruised garlic, and everyone knew Mrs. Winchester hated for the aroma of food to whiff out of the kitchen. #RandolphHarris 1 of 7

Mrs. Winchester did not know what was going to materialize. No idea of what kind of ab-natural creature was going to manifest, but she had an idea something horrible was lurking. She could feel its presence and was in fear of what she was going to see. You see, she never forgot that thirteen staff members had been strangled, one after the other, when entering the east wing, and the fierce slamming of the door she heard herself. She had no doubt that there was something dangerous and ugly out to get her. The Christian Bible warns that Satanic delusions will be abound in the last days. It was nervy work waiting for that thing to come into the Blue Séance Room. Suddenly, Mrs. Winchester was aware that the candles were all a-flickering in an unnatural wind sweeping over her, coming from behind. She gave one great nerve-thrill and a prickly feeling went all over the back of her head. Then she pulled herself around with a sort of stiff jerk and stared straight against that queer wind. It seemed to come from the corner of the room to the left of the bed—the place where both times she had found the heap of notes the spirits had given her about the 500 rooms they wanted constructed in the mansion and exterior elevations that they found appealing. Yet she could see mothing unusual, no opening—nothing! Abruptly she was aware that the candles were all a-flicker in that unnatural wind…she just squatted there and stared in a horribly frightened, stone way for some moments. It was disgustingly horrible sitting in that vile, cold wind! And then—flick! flick! flicky! all the candles round the outer barrier went out, and there she was, locked and sealed in the Blue Séance Room with no light beyond the weakish blue glare of the Electric Pentacle. #RandolphHarris 2 of 7

A time of abominable tenseness passed and still that wind blew upon her, and then she suddenly knew that something stirred in the corner to the left of the table. Mrs. Winchester was made conscious of it rather by some inward, unused sense, than by either sight or sound, for the pale, short-radius glare of the of the Pentacle gave but a very poor light for seeing by. Yet, as Mrs. Winchester started, something began slowly to grow upon my sight—a moving shadow, a little darker than the surrounding shadows. She lost the thing amid the vagueness and for a moment or two she glanced swiftly from side to side with a fresh, new sense of impending danger. Mrs. Winchester then cast a spell, “I offer my hair as a symbol of my spiritual ties to the powers of divine darkness eternal.” Then she burned the strand of hair upon the flame dropping what remained into the urn. “I offer my blood so that in its place the venomous powers of darkness will flow through my veins!) She dropped 13 drops of blood upon the candle. Next the incantation said, “I offer my flesh as a vehicle for the powers of darkness to move through me and act in this World according to my own divine will.” She allowed the flame to burn her hand slightly. “I offer these nails as spears to pierce the very essence of my enemies whether they be of the World or those who dwell beyond the veil of limitation! (She touched the nails to the flame and then dropped them upon the urn.) “I offer these ashes which are my limitations and obstacles consumed by this, they very blackened fire of becoming! (She sprinkled a bit of ash upon the urn and then smeared a bit upon her ajna chakra.) Next she chanted, “All ashes from magickal work should be saved as they will serve the black adept well in their sorcerous applications.” #RandolphHarris 3 of 7

Mrs. Winchester suddenly noticed that there were five flaming Fibonacci spirals moving counter clockwise, which caused a physical manifestation of the ever-expanding powers of darkness infiltrating the limits of the corporeal realm. These flaming spirals were in the Circle of Counter Creation and were aethyrically present as the seals were fed with the blood of the sorceress. Mrs. Winchester was aware in a funny, subconscious, introspective fashion that the “creeps” had come upon her, prickling all over her head, yet she was cooler mentally than she had been for some minutes; sufficiently so to feel that her hands were sweating coldly. The faint noises from the bed creased once and there was a most intense silence, with only the dull thudding of the blood beating in her head. Yet immediately afterwards Mrs. Winchester heard again the slurring sound of the blood being sucked into the seals. In the midst of her nervous tension. Then there was a time of absolute quietness then for perhaps a couple of minutes and you can imagine how horrible she felt. The blood had been guzzled with such savageness! And then again the abominable unnaturalness of the thing that had just been done before her! Suddenly, over b the door, she heard a faint noise—a sort of crickling sound and then a pitter or two upon the floor. A great nervous thrill swept over her, seeming to run up her spine and over the back of her head, for the seal that secured the door had just been broken. Something else was there. Mrs. Winchester could not see the door; at least, it was impossible to say how much she actually saw and how much her imagination supplied. She made it out only as a continuation of the expanding darkness. There was an indistinct wavered there among the shadows. #RandolphHarris 4 of 7

Abruptly she was aware that the door was opening with an effort, as she got up to see what was coming in, the door slammed with a terrific crash that filled the whole room with a sort of hollow thunder. Mrs. Winchester jumped like a frightened child. There seemed such a power behind the noise, as if a vast, wanton Force were “out.” Can you understand? She knew that was abroad was dangerous to Life. Therefore, beware, when people think of Satan merely as a man with a tail and horns, and just mock at the idea of a real devil, they make a terrible mistake and thus enable Satan to ensnare and attack his victims without hindrance. Mrs. Winchester was truly haunted and tried everything she know how to do to rid herself of these evil spirits the curse her fortune. The most dangerous area of satanic seduction is magic, for it is here that people consciously participate in Satan’s work even though he hides behind a camouflage of pious ceremonies. The ritual Mrs. Winchester performed began in total darkness. After the preliminary invocation, the four cardinal points were invoked, symbolically opening the “Gates of Hell.” The circle of light revealed the scarlet-robed priest seated on a throne, who appeared to be a werewolf. After the spell was cast. The red-robed invocator, half man, half beast appeared and drank from the seal. Mrs. Winchester, however, was attempting to close the gates of hell, not open them. Greater magic is regarded as the accomplishment of changes in the objective Universe through those great subjective outpourings of the will summoned during a ritual. This is how curses work. #RandolphHarris 5 of 7

Modern America, much like Victorian times, can be a dark and scary place, largely inhabited by deeply ignorant people with an aching desire to crucify anything they regard as deviant. And although the media so often preaches the gospel of individual responsibility, it rarely applies that philosophy. The usual suspects are dragged out—the Internet, neo-Nazism, computer games, Hollywood films, rap, rock music, and TV shows, but some how the TV news who constantly airs evil, which they profit off of, goes unnoticed. They do not want to have discussions because it may diffuse their profits. Instead, local news just expands the time limits of their evil content, and then say they do not have time to discuss it. But, if your local news if on the air 7 hours a day, they do have time to talk, but they know the only thing that keeps them on the air is lies, crimes, and violence because it is entertaining and can compete with TV shows. Furthermore, one will notice, if at a crime scene where The Satanic Bible is found or other occult symbols or objects, it is immediately labelled a “Satanic crime”—whereas a crime sense where The Holy Bible is found or where people are calling on God or there are biblical signs and symbols, it is not automatically identified as “Christian crime.” Just as the ignorant like to maintain they were made in the image of God, they also prefer to believe the Devil was fashioned from the likeness of that weird family down the street that work at the TV station. The ritual of driving the scapegoat out into the desert, stemming from biblical times, persists into the new millennium. Satanists will continue to play with “spiritual nitroglycerine,” while taking responsibility for their own actions and insisting that others accept responsibility for theirs. #RandolphHarris 6 of 7

In embracing perennial Christian taboos, rejecting both the tradition of scapegoating and the “victim culture,” we intend to prevent present-day idiocies from dragging the next millennium into another miserable Dark Age. If a new Satanic Age is born, it will be born from the ideals of curiosity, independence and pleasures. From a Satanic perspective, there is room for optimism. The Devil is winning. Christians cannot control themselves or modify their behaviors to honor their God. Seekers after supernatural cures may be deluded into a healing by demon-energized magic. The power to heal diseases is frequently manifested in spiritism, mafic, and demon possession. The clairvoyant medium often claims that one can heal the body, as well as foretell the future. The magical charmer and mesmerizer can both cure and cause diseases. The person afflicted with an evil spirit is often promised ability to cure physical ailments if he will serve the dominating demon. The danger of delusion increases in these last days as demonic activity accelerates and serious study of God’s Word wanes. Satan heals but demands some sort of payment in the form of psychic enslavement, cult involvement, or bondage to some for of fanaticism. Black-magic conjuration openly uses the name of Satan and demonic powers. People who are dept in the black arts and workers of diabolic miracles open doors to the unknown. Such occultists were popular in the courts of ancient pagan kings. They not only advised the heads of government but performed supernatural feats, including magical charming of the sick. The ability of such magicians is conditioned on the human plane by their inherent psychic power, and on the supernatural plane by their degree of abandonment to demonic domination. We may never know if Mrs. Winchester built her house to accommodate the spirits, but over the years the story has come down that she believed her life was unavoidably affected by departed souls. #RandolphHarris 7 of 7

https://www.instagram.com/p/CglJpXXrhu3/
Winchester Mystery House

At this 160-room mansion built to appease departed spirits, some guests have caught some interesting shadows on camera during their visits to the house. What do you think? See more on The Walk With Spirits Tour this weekend!

🎟️ link in bio. https://www.winchestermysteryhouse.com/
It Was Worse than the Thing that Crept into the Shadows

Love, peace, comfort, measureless contentment—that was life on the Winchester Estate in 1888. It was a joy to be alive. Pain there was none, nor infirmity, nor any physical signs to mark the flight of time; disease, care, sorrow—one might feel these outside the pale, but not on Mrs. Winchester’s Estate. There they had no place, there they never came. All days were alike, and all a dream of delight. The big country mansion was so large it could shelter an army. Guests lounging around the house for the big Christmas party. The laughter and music was only broken by the whisper of the wind in the cedar branches, and the scraping of their harsh fingers against the window panes. It had pricked us to such luxurious confidence in our surroundings of bright chintz and candle-flame and fire-light, that we had dared to talk of ghost—in which, we all said, we did not believe one bit. We had told the story of the phantom coach and the wedding that had taken place at the Winchester mansion, and the horrible strange bed, and the farmer’s wife, and the Victorian cottage on the estate. We none of us believed in ghosts, but my heart, at least, seemed to leap to my throat and choke me there, when a tap came to Mrs. Winchester’s door…a tap faint, not to be mistaken. Almost at once, Mrs. Winchester’s housekeeper Miss Eden opened the door and said, “Come in,” but she stood there. She was, at all normal hours, the most silent women I have ever known. She stood and looked at us, and shivered a little. So did we—for in those days corridors were not warmed by hot-water pipes, and the air from the door was keen. “I saw your light,” she said at last, “and I thought it was late for you to be up—after all this gaiety. I thought perhaps—” her glance turned towards the door of the dressing-room. #RandolphHarris 1 of 17

“No,” I said, “Mrs. Winchester is fast asleep.” I should have added a goodnight, but the youngest of us forestalled my speech. She did not know Mrs. Winchester as we others did; did not know how her persistent silence built a wall round her—a wall that no one dared to break down with the commonplaces of talk, or the littlenesses of mere human relationship. Mrs. Winchester was the heiress of the Winchester Repeating Arms Company. In the morning, she came downs stairs in her unsuitably rich silk lace-trimmed dressing-gown falling back from her thin collarbones, and ran to the door and put an arm around her guest Miss McAnally. The vivid light of pleasure in Miss McAnally’s pale blue eyes went through Mrs. Winchester’s heart like a knife. If she wanted an arm there, it would have been so easy to put one around her neck. “Now,” Mrs. Winchester said, “you shall have the very biggest, nicest chair, and the coffee-pot is here on the hob as hot as hot and my other guest have been telling ghost stories all light. When you get warm you ought to tell one too.” “You’re sure I’m not in your way,” Miss McAnally said, stretching her hands to a blaze. “Not a bit”—Mrs. Winchester said. Mrs. Winchester put her fleecy Maderia shawl round her shoulders. She could not think of anything else to do for her, and she found herself wishing desperately to do something. The smiles Miss. McAnally gave were very quite pretty. People can smile prettily at forty or fifty, or even later, though most young women do not realize this. “As I said before,” Mrs. Winchester confessed, “Everyone has been telling ghost stories all night. I retired early for bed. All of the ghost stories are so beautifully rounded off—a murder committed on the spot—or a hidden treasure, or a warning…I think that makes them harder to believe. The most horrid ghost-story I ever heard was one that was quite silly.” #RandolphHarris 2 of 14

“Tell it,” Miss McAnally begged. “I cannot—it does not sound anything to tell,” replied Mrs. Winchester. “The only thing that I ever knew of was—was hearsay,” Mrs. Winchester said, slowly, “till just the end. I daresay it would bore you, but it cannot do any hard. You all do not believe in ghosts, and it was not exactly a ghost either.” There was a breathing time of hush and expectancy. The fire crackled and the gas suddenly flared higher because the billiard lights had been put out. We heard the steps and voices of the men going along the corridors. “It is really hardly worth telling,” Mrs. Winchester said doubtfully, shading her faded face from the fire with her thin hand. Everyone said, “Go on—oh, go on—do!” ‘Well,” she said, “twenty years ago—and more than that—I had two friends, and I loved them more than anything in the World. And they married each other. After they were married, I did not see much of them for a year or two; and then he wrote me and asked me to come and stay, because his wife was ill, and I should cheer her up, and cheer him up as well; for it was a gloomy house, and he himself was growing gloomy too.” I knew as she spoke that she had every line of that letter by heart. “Well, I went. The address was in Oakland, near Berkeley; in those says there were streets and streets of new villa-houses growing up round old brick mansions standing in their own grounds, with red walls round, you know, and a sort of flavour of coaching days, and post chaises, and Blackheath highwaymen about them. He had said the house was gloomy, and it was called ‘The Haunted House,’ and I imagined my carriage going through a dark, winding shrubbery, and drawing up in from of one of these sedate, old, square houses. Instead, we drew up in front of a large, smart villa, with iron railings, gay encaustic tiles leading from the iron gate to the stained-glass-panelled door, and for shrubbery only a few stunted cypresses and aucubas in the tiny front garden. But inside it was all warm and welcoming. He met me at the door. #RandolphHarris 3 of 14

“He met me at the door,” she said again, “and thanked me for coming, and asked me to forgive the past. They were very glad to see me, and I was very glad to be there. Margaret was not exactly ill, only weak and excitable. I thought he seemed more ill than she did. She went to bed early and before she went, she asked me to keep him company through his last pipe, so we went into the dining-room and sat in the two armchairs on each side of the fireplace. They were covered with green leather I remember. There were bronze groups of horses and a black marble clock on the mantlepiece—all wedding-presents. He poured out some whisky for himself, but he hardly touched it. He sat looking into the fire. At last I said: What’s wrong? Margaret looks as well as you could expect.” “Yes,” he said, “but I don’t know from one day to another that she won’t begin to notice something wrong. That’s why I wanted you to come. You were always so sensible and strong-minded, and Margaret’s like a little bird on a flower.” Mrs. Winchester said, “Yes, of course,” and waited for him to go on. Presently he said: “Sarah, this is a very peculiar house. It is new: that’s just it. We’re the first people who’ve ever lived in it. If it were an old house, Sarah, I should think it was haunted.” Mrs. Winchester asked, “Have you ever seen anything?” “No,” he said. “That is just it. I have not heard nor seen anything, but there’s a sort of feeling: I can’t describe it—I’ve seen nothing and I’ve heard nothing, but I’ve been so near to seeing and hearing, just near, that’s all. And something follows me about—only when I turned round, there’s never anything, only my shadow. And I always feel that I shall see the thing next minute—but I never do—not quite—it’s always just not visible.” #RandolphHarris 4 of 14

Mrs. Winchester had been working very hard—and tried to cheer him up by making light of all this. “It is just nerves,” she said. He replied, “Mrs. Winchester, I thought you could help me, and I do not think I wronged anyone for them to lay a curse on me. I don’t believe in cruses. The only person I could have wronged forgave me freely.” Mrs. Winchester came up with a suggestion, “I think you ought to take Margaret away from the house and have a complete change.” But he said, “No; Margaret has got everything in order, and I could never manage to get her away just now without explaining everything—and, above and beyond all that, she mustn’t guess there’s anything wrong. I daresay I shan’t feel quite such a lunatic now you’re here.” So they said goodnight.” Whenever Mrs. Winchester was alone with him, he used to tell her the same thing over and over again, and at first when he began to notice things, he tried to think tht it was his talk that had upset her nerves. The odd thing was that it was not only at night—but in broad daylight—and particularly on the stairs and passages. On the staircase the feeling used to be so awful that Mrs. Winchester had to bite her lips till they bled to keep herself from running upstairs at full speed. Only she knew if she would not go mad at the top. There was always something behind her—exactly as he said—something that one could just not see. And a sound that one could just not heat. There was a long corridor at the top of the house. Mrs. Winchester sometimes almost saw something—you know how one see things without looking—but if she turned around, it seemed as if the thing drooped and melted into her shadow. There was a little window at the end of the corridor. #RandolphHarris 5 of 14

Downstairs there was another corridor, something like it, with a cupboard at one end and the kitchen at the other. One night Mrs. Winchester went down into the kitchen to heat some milk for Margaret. The servants had gone to bed. As she stood by the fire, waiting for the milk to boil, she glanced through the open door and along the passage. Mrs. Winchester never could keep her eyes on what she was doing in that house. The cupboard door was partly open; they used to keep empty boxes and things in it. And as she looked, she knew that now it was not going to be “almost” anymore. Yet she said, “Margaret” not because she thought it could be Margaret who was crouching down there, half in and half out of the cupboard. The thing was great at first, and then it was black. And when Mrs. Winchester whispered, “Margaret,” it seemed to sink down till it lay like a pool of ink on the floor, and then its edges drew in, and it seemed to flow, like ink when you tilt up the paper you have split it on; and it flowed into the cupboard till it was all gathered into the shadow there. Mrs. Winchester saw it go quite plainly. The gas was full on in the kitchen. She screamed aloud, but then, she was thankful to say, she had enough sense to upset the boiling milk, so that when he came downs three steps at a time, Mrs. Winchester had the excuse for her scream of a scalded hand. The explanation satisfied Margaret, but the next night he said: “Why didn’t you tell me? It was that cupboard. All the horror of the house comes out of that. Tell me—have you seen anything yet? Or is it only the nearly seeing and nearly hearing still?” Mrs. Winchester said, “You must tell me first what you have seen.” He told her, and his eyes wandered, as he spoke, to the shadows by the curtains, and Mrs. Winchester turned up all three gas lights, and lit the candles on the mantelpiece. #RandolphHarris 6 of 14

Then they looked at each other and said they were both mad, and thanked God that Margaret at least was sane. For what he had seen was what Mrs. Winchester had seen. After that she hated to be alone with a shadow, because at any moment she might see something that would crouch, and sink, and lie like a black pool, and then slowly draw itself into the shadow that was nearest. Often that shadow was her own. The thing came first at night, but afterwards there was no hour safe from it. She saw it at dawn and at noon, in the fireplace, and always it crouched and sank, and was a pool that flowed into some shadow and became part of it. And always she saw it with a straining of the eyes—a pricking and aching. It seemed as though she could only just see it, as if her sight, to see it, had to be strained to the uttermost. And still the sound was in the house—the sound that she could just not hear. At last, one morning early, Mrs. Winchester did hear it. It was close behind her, and it was only a sign. It was worse than the thing that crept into the shadows. She did not know how she bore it. If she had not been so fond of her friends, she could not have tolerated it. However, she knew in her heart that, if he had no one to whom he could speak openly, he would go mad, or tell Margaret. His was not a very strong character; very sweet, and kind, and gentle, but not strong. He was always easily led. So Mrs. Winchester stayed on and bore up, and they were very cheerful, and made little jokes, and tried to be amusing when Margaret was with them. However, when they were alone, they did not try to be amusing. And sometimes a day or two would go by without their seeing or hearing anything. #RandolphHarris 7 of 14

They perhaps should have fancied that they had fancied what they had seen and heard—only there was always the feeling of their being something about that house, that one could just not hear and not see. Sometimes they used to try not to talk about it, but generally they talked of nothing else at all. And the weeks went by, and Margaret’s baby was born. The nurse and the doctor said that both mother and child were doing well. He and Mrs. Winchester sat late in the dining-room that night. They had neither seen nor heard anything for three days; their anxiety about Margaret was lessened. They talked of the future—it seemed then so much brighter than the past. They arranged that, the moment she was fit to be moved, he should take her away to the sea, and Mrs. Winchester should superintend the moving of their furniture into the new house he had already chosen. He was gayer than Mrs. Winchester had seen him since his marriage—almost like his old self. When she said goodnight to him, he said a lot of things about her having been a comfort to them both. She had not done anything much, of course, but still she was glad he said them. Then Mrs. Winchester went upstairs, almost for the first time without that feeling of something following her. She listened at Margaret’s door. Everything was quiet. Mrs. Winchester went on toward her own room, and in an instant, she felt that there was something behind her. She turned. It was crouching there; it sank, and the black fluidness of it seemed to be sucked under the door of Margaret’s room. She went back. She opened the door a listening inch. All was still. And then she heard a sigh close behind her. Mrs. Winchester opened the door and went in. The nurse and the baby were asleep. #RandolphHarris 8 of 14

Margaret was asleep too—she looked so pretty—like a tired child—the baby was cuddled up into one of her arms with its tiny heard against her side. Mrs. Winchester prayed then that Margaret might never know the terrors that they are hidden from her. That those little ears might never hear any but pretty sounds, those clear eyes never see any but pretty sights. She did not dare to pray for a long time after that. Because her prayer was answered. She never saw, never heard anything more in this World. And now Mrs. Winchester could do nothing for him or her. When they had put her in her coffin, Mrs. Winchester lighted wax candles round her, and laid the horrible white flowers that people will send near her, and then she saw he had followed her. She took his hand to lead him away. At the door they both turned. It seemed to them that they heard a sign. He would have sprung to her side in glad hope. However, at that instant they both saw it. Between them and the coffin, first grey, then black, it crouched an instant, then sank and liquified—and was gathered together and drawn till it ran into the nearest shadow. And the nearest shadow was the shadow of Margaret’s coffin. Mrs. Winchester left the next day. His mother came. She never liked Mrs. Winchester. The something black that crouched then between him and Mrs. Winchester was only his second wife crying beside the coffin. Mrs. Winchester never told anyone the story because it seemed senseless. After hearing the story, Miss McAnally stood at her gaunt height, her hands clenched, eyes straining. She was looking at something that no one could see, and she knew what the man in the Bible meant when he said: “The hair of my flesh stood up.” What they saw seemed not quite to reach the height of the dressing-room door handle. Her eyes followed it down, down—widening and widening. Mrs. Winchester’s eyes followed them—all the nerves of them seemed strained to the uttermost—and she almost saw it—or did she quite see? She could not be certain. However, they all heard the long-drawn, quivering sign. And to each of them it seemed to be breathed just behind them. #RandolphHarris 9 of 14

It was Mrs. Winchester who caught up the candle—it dripped all over her trembling hand—and was dragged by Miss McAnally to the girl who had fainted during the second extra. However, it was a servant girl whose lean arms were round the housekeeper when they turned away, and that have been around her many a time since, in the Winchester mansion where she keeps house. The doctor who came in the morning said that Margaret’s daughter had died of heart disease—which she had inherited from her mother. But Mrs. Winchester wondered had she had not inherited something else from her father? It was the daughter’s ghost that had followed Mrs. Winchester into her own mansion and now haunts it. The invoking or summoning of spirits by means of hymns, prayers, and acts of worship in spiritistic séances, finds a counterpart in demon possession. Often the demon speaking through its victim in the demonized state will demand the burning of incense as well as worship service. In return it often promises alleviation from torment and powers of physical healing or clairvoyant and prognostic gifs assuring financial income and material prosperity to the enslaved person. Paganism is replete with fear of demons who must be appeased by worshipping and servile obedience. Those who accept magical powers of healing and clairvoyance at the hand of demonic powers may escape the grosser torments of vile spirits only to fall under more terrible bondage and become Satan’s tool to enslave others. In 1892, people in Santa Clara Valley gossiped about Mrs. Winchester. They told stories of how she was involved in the diabolic rites of Freemasonry, arguing that she and the Freemasons were in reality devout Satanists, carrying out blasphemous and hideous rituals beneath the sinister clock of secrecy. #RandolphHarris 10 of 14

The headquarters of the movement, under the leadership Sarah Winchester, Albert Pike, Gallatin Mackey, and others, located in Santa Clara, California at the Winchester mansion, with celebrants of their Black Masses spread all over the World. Their rites supposedly involved séances. Some went as far to say that the Winchester mansion had an infernal telephone hooked up to Hell, through which the leaders spoke to Lucifer. The stories recounted by the villagers were backed up by Thomas Vaughan, an alchemist. However, if that were true, it would mean the Winchester mansion, Mrs. Winchester, and William Winchester are far older than we believe them to be. The town spread rumors that Black Masses were taking place at the Winchester Mansion under the guise of Freemasonry. It was said that the Winchester mansion was a life and magical order. The emphasis on the former, of living according to one’s real nature. Freemasonry is a nonsectarian fraternity claiming to teach a system of morality veiled in the allegory and symbols passed down from the caste of stonemasons who built the original Temple of Solomon. It allegedly binds its members by an oath of secrecy that imposes death on the betrayer, uses secret passwords and signs, and performs rituals purporting to relate to the history of its origins. It organization is hierophantic, the members receiving the “secrets” of the order, and they pass through the higher degrees. Its antiquity can be documented no further back than the latter part of the seventeenth century. The movement really seems to have gotten its start with the establishment of the Grand Lodge in England, in 1717. From there, it spread to France and Germany, and it did not take long for serious-minded students of the occult, attracted by its ritualistic and secretive trappings, to find their way into its ranks. #RandolphHarris 11 of 14

It was also said that Mrs. Winchester was an alchemist and a mystic, and she created her own brand of Victorian Masonry, and taught others how to make gold, heal the sick, and raise the dead. These secret rights had been handed down to her by the Knights of Templar. She was under the tutelage of “Unknown Superiors,” a race of godlike spiritual guides. Many of the people in the town gossiped about Mrs. Winchester so viciously, not only because of her wealth and the mansion larger than anyone had ever seen, but also because of suspicions that her estate was a cover for political conspiracy. The Devil, being a rebel against Heaven, has always been portrayed by the powers-that-be as the chief insurrectionist against the existing political and religious order. The enemy cannot be God, for God is on the side of the ruler. Therefore, the enemy of the ruler must be Satan. It is true that the Winchester mansion is supranational in outlook. There was a secret society that met there dedicated to the scientific and political enlightenment of mankind. To achieve this goal, the group intended secretly to work toward the abolition of all monarchies and the establishment of a One-World government, to be run by those few presently Enlightened, or Illuminati. Since professing such republican ideas could be dangerous, the group was wrapped in a cloak of occultism. Mrs. Winchester adopted the grades of Freemasonry and promised initiates that the magical secrets of the Universe could be revealed to them only when they reached the upper levels. Many believed that William Winchester and Annie Winchester had not died, but gone underground and survived in a network of secret societies, two of which were the Freemasons and the Illuminati, to escape the Assassins. The Assassins were a political group who carried out assassinations while crazed on hashish. #RandolphHarris 12 of 14

Legend has it that Mrs. Winchester was not only running from the souls of those killed by the Winchester rifle, but to also escape the Assassins. Not only spiritual, but Masonic teachings exerted an influence over the construction of the Winchester mansion. Certain mystical thinkers and practitioners of ceremonial magic believed that Mrs. Winchester practiced a complex system of magic that was a synthesis of Eastern and Western mystical traditions. There is a secret cave inside the Winchester mansion that can be entered only by stooping, but inside a room nearly seven feet high about twelve feet square presents itself. On each side of the entrance a Latin cross is deeply carved in the rock, while within, at the further side, and opposite the door, a block of stone four feet high was left for an altar. Above it, a shrine is hollowed out of the stone wall, and over the cavity is another cross. It is said to be the cave of a saint. Some say it is Saint Michael himself, but no one can be quite certain. And there is a big head inside that craved in the shape of the Devil’s face that the saint put there. For Mrs. Winchester, there were two types of magic. What she called evocation and invocation. Evocation was a calling forth, while invocation was a calling in. In such rituals, the magician summoned the demon or deity while standing within the protection of a magical circle drawn on the floor, the object of the sorcerer being to control and direct the entity to do one’s bidding. She sought to achieve total identification with the godhead, to invoke the god so that it actually took possession of her consciousness. The resulting state experienced by the magician was a type of samadhi, or temporary loss of ego. Mrs. Winchester’s estate possesses the KEY which opens up all Masonic and Hermetic secrets of Freemasonry and all systems of religion. #RandolphHarris 13 of 14

It did not take long for rumors to begin to circulate around the town of nightly procession of hooded, candle-bearing figures around the grounds of the Winchester mansion. The reason Mrs. Winchester and the husband of her friend kept seeing demons is because allegedly someone did a ritual on her estate—one of the greatest magical feats ever—the attempt to bring the “Whore of Babalon” down from the Astral Plane and incarnate it in the womb of a living women. Upon hearing of the ritual, someone wrote to the Luciferian Light Group, “Apparently Mrs. Winchester or one of her friends is producing a Moonchild. I am pledged that the work of the Beast 666 shall be fulfilled, and the way for the coming of BABALON be made open and I shall not cease until these things are accomplished.” Mrs. Winchester did not know, but after she left her friend’s house, he managed to blow himself to smithereens while conducting a strange chemical experiment in his basement workshop. Hours later, the scientist’s mother, who lived on the estate, committed suicide with an overdose of sleeping tablets and the baby died from dehydration and starvation, but the baby who is supposed to be the Whore of Babalon still haunts the Winchester till this very day. No matter what people say or believe about Mrs. Winchester, she and her architecture were able to break through the walls of stagnation and bring before the World its first vision of the new Aeon. Once, a tourguide reported while closing the house, he felt something following him, he was alone. He went out onto the fourth floor balcony and prayed into the Heavens one night, “O Thou wicked and disobedient spirit Vinea, because thou hast rebelled, and has not obeyed nor regarded my words which I have rehearsed; I curse thee into the depth of the Bottomless Abyss, there to remain unto the Day of Doom in chains, and in fire and brimstone unquenchable, unless thou forthwith appear here before this Circle, in this triangle to my will.” And he saw Lucifer as a star fall from Heaven, and from Him came to the tour guide light of true salvation. And he was made whole by His infernal wisdom. “My chains lifted off, I was made free,” he said. At night when some drive by, they claim to hear the Devil’s orchestra at that famous time 1.13am. #RandolphHarris 14 of 14

Winchester Mystery House

Happy Saturday from The Winchester Mystery House ☀️ What are your weekend plans? Hopefully they include walking around these beautiful gardens 😉 https://www.winchestermysteryhouse.com/











































































































