Home » Serial Killer (Page 2)
Category Archives: Serial Killer
The Mystery Has Never Been Solved!

Much of the ceremonial rituals that took place in The Winchester Mansion goes back to the Knights Templar. The Order of the Knights Templar can be traced in part to the Templars. And yet, the Knights Templar are also the claimed ancestors of satanists, a fact which is decidedly hard to prove, though within an organization so large there may well have been diverse groups who followed their own calling. The knights, largely from France and England, joined the order over a period of many years. They had a system of leadership with a Grand Master, knights, chaplains, sergeants, craftsmen, seneschals and commanders. The order had its own clergy and its meetings were held in the strictest secrecy. Unmarried knights wore a white mantle with a red cross while others wore a black mantle with a red cross. Membership was mostly male, and established orders in virtually every Latin country, drawing people from all over Europe. It also became a great trading agency and though originally the Roman Catholic Church actually supported a number of secret societies who were Christian-based, the power of the Templars began to wield became the fear of successive popes and of European noblemen. Philip IV of France began a series of attacks against the Knights Templar and his campaign was given official blessing by the election of Pope Clement V (1305-1314) who renounced the Templars as immoral heretics. Many people know that Mrs. Sarah L. Winchester had a Famous Blue Séance Room where she carried on her rituals and had a series of colourful robes she wore. However, the mystery has never been solved as to why she built the strangest mansion in the World? #RandolphHarris 1 of 13

Stories were already circulating that Mrs. Winchester, behind the closely guarded doors of her mansion, indulged in the most offensively blasphemous rituals said to be directed totally towards the reversal of Christianity itself. She was said to worship a goat-like idol, the Baphomet, anointing it with the fat of pigs, while the Knights used the fat of murdered children, roasting children and eating them, laying women across their altars for the most violent forms of indecencies to satisfy their lust for life-blood; they were said to have indulged in homosexual rites and other various claims alleged they stamped the Holy Cross under foot, spat and urinated upon it and used the Mass as the basis for their own worship—later to be known universally as the Black Mass. Actual proof of these events is largely contained in the confessions received under torture which followed the arrest of Mrs. Winchester’s butler Albert Pike. He and 140 of his brethren were imprisoned in Santa Clara Valley, tortured and then executed en masse. Algernon Blackwood, under extreme torture, confessed to speaking against Christianity but denied depravity. In 1890, he was brough out on to the nine-story tower of The Winchester Mansion and ordered to repeat his confession in front of the villagers and accept a sentence of life imprisonment. On the balcony of the tower, he burst into a rage of anger and protested innocence of all charges and thus signed his own death warrant. The order was given that he should be taken into the fruit orchard and burned at the stake. As the flames licked his body, he summoned Mrs. Winchester and, in his dying, breathe to meet him at the Bar of Heaven. #RandolphHarris 2 of 13

Diocesan priest, Father Peter Yorke, who was then editor of the Archiocesan newspaper, The Monitor, emerged sending orders to every village where the Templars operated, instructing that they should be arrested and charges of heresy and sorcery brought against them. He published a series of exposes, and hundreds of knights were brought to trail, tortured, and executed. The vast wealth of the Templars working at The Winchester Mansion were accused of devil worship. What remained to be handed down and revived, especially in the twenty-first century, were the rumors of ritual and dastardly happenings which many of today’s extremist followers of the Knights Templar seem prepared to believe and accept with some enthusiasm. One of the more important traditions handed down by Mrs. Winchester concerns an instruction for future secret societies. On the day the Knights planned to burn to death Father Yorke, a pact was made and communicated to all surviving Knights who had now gone to ground. The instruction was clear—that the Order of the Knight Templar should be continued in perpetuity. It is said that the surviving Templars should thereafter fight for the destruction of the papacy and prevent Mrs. Winchester from being stripped of her wealth and murdered. These orders, it was said, were handed on to descendants of the order and the Winchester family, who at various points in history have included satanists and a diverse calling of occultists. What remained of the Winchester family and the Knights went into the deepest secrecy, surfacing occasionally and surrounded constantly by rumour, but little discernible fact. #RandolphHarris 3 of 13

The Illuminati came to fortify The Winchester Mansion, which had reached seven-stories high, with 600 rooms, after the 1906 Earthquake. While it was true that Mrs. Winchester left her mansion, there are more reasons as to the why. The avowed spiritualist, Mrs. Winchester, had constructed a boathouse and erected a huge mountain of Earth upon which a new mansion she had planned to build would be erected. It was to overlook the bay, an immense seawall and costly cannel system, with proper floodgates, through which the Winchester private fleet of launches and yachts were to wend their way. It was said that Mrs. Winchester was being haunted by vicious spirits and that death would be her penalty for leaving her home. Her existence was mythical because only half a dozen people had seen her. A sheriff had been striving for the past three months to serve upon her a summons to appear in court in proceedings that a real estate dealer had brought upon her. Bloodhounds roamed the grounds of the mansion and polite Asian staff answered telephone calls. Mrs. Winchester was always alone save for a bodyguard. She was wealth as few women were and found her pleasure in superintending a half dozen workmen, who for seven years had gone from wing to wing of the mansion, constructing one month what they were called to destroy on the following month. Her mansion was considered the pride of the county and the basis for mysterious legends. The Illuminati came were concerned about a group of subversives who were discovered to be using occult practices and rituals to attack Mrs. Winchester and her mansion. #RandolphHarris 4 of 13

E.W. McClellan of Burlingame, the contractor of 98 acres of land purchased by Mrs. Winchester, was holding it and refused to give it up because he believed she was the lead of a secret society working to “establish Satan’s kingdom on Earth,” an accusation which was a direct throw-back to the age of the Knights Templar; and that dictum still exists today. The Psychosophical Society stated that The Winchester Mansion had existed since the sixteenth century and comprised the World League of Illuminati. They wanted to prevent Mrs. Winchester from passing on her palatial estates in all their purity to the next generation. The hotbed of intrigue, rumour and gossip directed at The Winchester Mansion supposedly involved the death/assassination of some, the suicide/murder of others over the scandals invariably linked to Propaganda 2 (P2) Lodge and various Intelligence agencies like the KGB and the CIA with a scandal which is too immense to expound here, nor is it suitably for this part of the report. What can be said, however, is that occult groups working within the traditions of the Illuminati represent a definite consideration of these events. Mrs. Winchester’s husband, William Wirt Winchester, was a master of mathematics and the possessor of certain secret occult knowledge. He gathered seven disciples around him and went into the World of the brotherhood to perform good works. Staff have described that 120 years after his death, his perfectly preserved corpse was found in one of the many buildings of The Winchester Mansion. Because of the secrecy and the mystery that surround The Winchester Mansion, thousand want to know more and are desperate to visit it. #RandolphHarris 5 of 13

Sometimes the hysteria surrounding The Winchester Mansion morphed into such hysterical proportions that the authorities have had to shut the mansion down for a day or ban people from entering, even though many do not believe that it actually exists. Fans of The Winchester Mansion have sprouted up all over the World. Some people still regard the story of The Winchester Mansion as a fable, but most know it does actually exist and possesses esoteric knowledge of mystery and mysticism. Some the people who were involved in the construction of The Winchester Mansion were magicians, writers, statesmen and novelist. This mansion has quit a following and has collected members through the ages, in positions of far greater power and influence than the Illuminati. Legend has it that descendants from the founding fathers of the Middle Ages are on the board of trustees. The official secret society in control of the estate have connections throughout Europe and the United States of America, whose membership is an indication of the current revival in the mystery religions and semi-secret societies. The mansion alone boasts of some 60,000 members and operates from its headquarters in San Jose, California with affiliated lodges in Britain, France, Germany, Australia and South Africa. The caretakers are preserving the traditional beliefs of the 19th century. A cipher manuscript was found in one of the libraries of The Winchester Mansion. The author of the manuscript was not identified but it was obviously someone with a very intense knowledge of the supernatural, alchemy, astrology and the magical theories of Eliphas Levi. #RandolphHarris 6 of 13

Mrs. Winchester’s mansion and gardens reflect her colourful and ornate rituals and its purpose was “to obtain control of the nature and power of my own being.” The might wings of the mansion outspread dove-like sitting brooding on the vast abyss. What is dark in Mrs. Winchester is to be illumined, what is lose raised and supported; the nine-story tower was constructed so that Heaven could hide nothing from Mrs. Winchester’s view, nor the deep tract of hell. Hell said to be a hideous flaming ruin and combustion in a bottomless perdition, there where Satan dwells in adamantine chains and penal fire. Nine times the space that measures day and night to mortal men, Satan and his horrid crew lay vanquished, rolling in the fiery gulf, confounded though immortal: but his doom reserved him to more wrath; for now the thought both of lost happiness and lasting pain torments him; round he throws his baleful eyes that witnessed huge affliction and dismay mixed with obdurate pride and steadfast hate: at once as far as angels ken he views the dismal situation waste and wild, a dungeon of horrible. Many leaders of the Church do not preach about Hell anymore because the Church has become a tax-free business and they do not want to hear about where they may go, nor do they want to scare their dirty money away from the Church. As a result of the loss of real churches who teach about Satan and demons, people are all wild and out of control and no longer fear anything and go around sinning like rain in Seattle. #RandolphHarris 7 of 13

On a hot and dry Friday the 13th of June 1890, Mrs. Winchester drifted into an uneasy sleep, but not for long. Half an hour later she was wide awake again. Something was wrong; a change was coming over the bedroom. There was a sense of dread. Regions of sorrow, doleful shades, were peace and rest could not dwell entered. Her home started to feel like a place where hope could not come, and all that did come was torture without end. She sat up, fully alert, straining her ears for the slightest untoward sound, but all was silent except for the little trusted noises the home made during the evening. However, Mrs. Winchester noticed something odd: an unnatural coldness was stealing over the room. It had been a hot summer day. How could it be so cold? She shivered and ducked back under the covers, tugging them more snugly about her. It did not help; the cold kept increasing. She pulled the covers over her head, chiding herself for being silly and willing herself into sleep. However, the terrible dread kept gnawing at her. She tried to think pleasant thoughts, tried to ignore her thudding heart, and tried to pray. Her attempts brought little comfort; the fear continued to build. She sensed that something frightful was about to happen. She held her breath and waited, not knowing what to expect. Before too long, she heard a sound: the unmistakable creak of the doorknob. The spring bolt was sliding back with tiny clicks. Mrs. Winchester froze. Very slowly, the door began to open. Her fear quickened further as she heard the tread of heavy, booted feet approaching the bed. She wanted to call out for help, but was too afraid, as if some force was willing her to silence. Mrs. Winchester was helpless in the face of that power. #RandolphHarris 8 of 13

When she tried to pray, a demon started to speak. “The force of hose dire arms has caused me to fall to a place with floods and whirlwinds of tempestuous fire. Fierce contention brought along innumerable force of Spirits armed with durst in a dubious battle of unconquerable will, revenge, immortal hate.” Mrs. Winchester was dying and she knew it. This demon had come to claim her soul. She was making gaps, with long spaces between. A perspective of stern and cruel memories stretching away, like its own grey avenues, into a blur of darkness. Certainly no house had ever more completely and finally broken with the present. Mrs. Winchester lit a candle. A little animal stood before her, forbidding, almost menacing: there was anger in his large brown eyes. He came no nearer. As she advanced, he gradually fell back, and she noticed another dog, a vague, rough, brindled thing. At the same moment a third dog, a long-haired white mongrel, slipped out of a doorway and joined the others. All three stood looking at Mrs. Winchester with grave eyes; but not a sound came from them. Zip, had seemed to be observing them with a deeper intentness. Mrs. Winchester endured many long years of the company of many different creatures. They would return again and again. As she was in her morning room, the coldness came back. Her mind was alert but her body seemed paralyzed. The entity seemed to have the power to immobilize her from a distance. She heard the dull footfalls crossing her mahogany floors. There was an evil lurking in her home. Something started pounding on the table. #RandolphHarris 9 of 13

The pounding was so fierce that her cup of tea bounced off the table and fell to the floor. Then it stopped. Mrs. Winchester thought maybe she was having delusions. But whatever it was did not want her to drink the tea. More odd things began to happen—occurrences no one could explain. A malignancy pervaded. Often, people would hear a horrible, mocking, evil laugh. Lights would slicker for no reasons; water taps would turn themselves on, then off. She would find her silverware mysteriously rearranged. On several occasions she discovered her solid gold dinner service hidden in a corner of the room. One night, she had a roaring fire in the fireplace of her bedroom, went to the bathroom, and returned the fireplace totally clean with nothing it in burning. The servants began to complain of hearing mice in the night, but Mrs. Winchester was certain there were no mice in the house. On several occasions, one could very clearly hear the floorboards creaking upstairs, as though somebody was walking about the house. The servants heard the creaking too but, as is often the case with servants, they got used to it, and to the other noises and unexplained presences. Mrs. Winchester urged them no to speak of those things outside of the house. It was bd enough that she was subjected to the disturbances and torment; the last thing she wanted was to attract undue attention to her home. People do not, as a rule, react compassionately to reports of supernatural infestations; many tend to suspect that the victim has somehow, whether by word or deed, “brought it on herself.” #RandolphHarris 10 of 13

At times, Mrs. Winchester felt that the entity was trying to crush the life out of her. She left her light burning all night. Through time, Mrs. Winchester was forced to accept her suffering. There was nothing else she could do. One winter night, one of the butlers was found dead at the head of a narrow flight of stairs leading down from his room. It was Mrs. Winchester who found him and gave the alarm, so distracted with fear and horror—for his blood was all over her—that at first roused household could not make out what she was saying, and thought she was waking from a nightmare. However, there, sure enough, at the top of the stairs lay the butler, stone dead, and head foremost, the blood from his wounds dripping down the steps below him. He had been dreadfully scratched and gashed about the face and throat, as if with curious pointed weapons; and one of his legs had a deep tear in it which had cut an artery, and probably caused his death. Bu how did he come there, and who had murdered him? Mrs. Winchester declared that she had been asleep in her bed, and hearing his cry had rushed out to find him lying on the stairs; but this was immediately questioned. A shadow was rearing up from the body. Mrs. Winchester described it as “a blob, like smoking black cloud, not the shape of a person—just a thing, but a terrible thing. The absolute evil that came from it was overwhelming. I was so gripped with terror, I could not move, and I knew that if it came toward me, I would be swallowed up…destroyed, and that would be the end of me. Imagine what it feels like to know that you are going to be killed, and the specter that is torturing you is deliberately making you suffer beforehand. That is how it was. I felt a level of fear that is beyond words. Then I heard a voice and screamed.” #RandolphHarris 11 of 13

The male voice was hoarse, stertorous, angry almost. “You have left us this our spirit and strength entire strongly to suffer our pains that we my so suffice his vengeful ire, or do him mightier services as his thralls by right of war, whatever his business be here in the heart of hell to work in fire, or do his errands in the gloomy deep; what can it then avail though yet we feel strength undiminished, or eternal being to undergo eternal punishment?” Mrs. Winchester instantly went to sleep—chilling testimony to the control the demon had over her. When she awoke, she was clean, in her sleeping gown, and in her bed. However, it was with the possibility, and the hope, that the end of her long ordeal might well be in sight. Little of the fast-fading sunlight entered the house through the windows, many of which were partly or entirely covered with drapes. However, it was bright enough for Mrs. Winchester to see that the French Provincial sofa’s upholstery was slashed. Shredded wool spilled onto the floor. A solid oak bookcase had been hammered to pieces against the wall, gouging holes in the lath and plaster walls, running the Lincrusta-Walton Wallcovering. Her silver tea service has been smashed, along with a floor lamp. Books had been taken off the shelves, torn apart, and scattered across the living room. Mrs. Winchester lit a candle. It did not shed much light, just enough to reveal more details of the rubble. Looks like somebody went through here with a wrecking ball and scissors, she thought. The house remained silent. Leaving the door open behind her, she took a couple of steps into the room, and the crumpled pages of the ruined books crunched crispy underfoot. She noticed the dark, rusty stains on some of the paper and on the bone-white foam wool stuffing, and suddenly she stopped, realizing the stains were blood. A moment later, Mrs. Winchester spotted the corpse. It was that of a big man, lying on his side on the floor near the sofa, half-covered by gore-smeared book pages, book boards, and dust jackets. Zip’s growling grew louder, meaner. Moving closer to the body, which was just a few feet from the dining-room archway. Mrs. Winchester remembered that John Hansen had lately been making repairs, including a leak faucet and a broken door lock. #RandolphHarris 12 of 13

However, Mrs. Winchester thought because of the way the room looked, he had been killed weeks ago. Her house was so big that it would often take weeks, months, and sometimes years to get around it. Yet, on closer inspection, the corpse proved to be neither bloated with the gas of decomposition nor marked by any signs of decay, so it could not have been there for very long. Perhaps only a day or less. The body had been disemboweled. Zip’s low growling gave wat to ugly snarling punctuated with hard, sharp barks. With a nervous twitch and a sudden pounding of her heart, Mrs. Winchester turned from the corpse and saw that zip was facing into the nearby dining room. The shadows were deep in there because the drapes were drawn shut over all the windows, and only a thin gray light passed through from the kitchen beyond. “Go, get out, leave!” an evil voice told her. It was certainly not the voice of Mr. Hansen. Something in the dining room was moving. There was no doubt of its presence, because it rushed out onto the dining-room tables, and came straight at Mrs. Winchester, emitting a blood-freeze shriek. She saw lantern eyes in the gloom, and nearly a man-sized figure that—in spite of poor light—gave an impression of deformity. Then the demon was coming off the table, straight at her. I Do conjure thee, O Spirit Focalor and your legion of thirty spirits to manifest your spiritual weapon in this corporeal World through my will and might! Empower it so that it may serve me here upon the corporeal plane! May it serve as a key to the realms above and below unlocking power and wisdom for my glory and ascent! Fill this weapon with your powers of wrath and fury that it may seek out spiritual attacks made toward me rendering them useless and impotent! I DO conjure thee Spirit Vephar, pierce the Heavens and cause the seas to be right stormy to cleanse the Earth of sin. Spirit Vizaresh, I DO conjure thee to drag sinful souls into hell, noosing them with the power of their own sins. May the snare be the power of their own evil, words, thoughts, and deeds and let this be you will to drag unwilling souls into Hell. May this cord gain its power through one’s practical application of evil principles. #RandolphHarris 13 of 13

Winchester Mystery House

Happy Sunday! House tours 10am-5pm today 🏠 come see us!
🎟️ link in bio. https://winchestermysteryhouse.com/

Mrs. Winchester never recovered from the 1906 earthquake. Staff said she grew weaker and weaker as the years went by, and that she was often heard talking to her dead husband. The house was already large, but it morphed to be as long as several city blocks and was taller than the tallest trees on the green lawn. I suppose, ultimately, it was the spirits who kept her in this estate by not allowing her to build another one of this magnitude. When Mrs. Winchester passed away in 1922, she left $5,000,000.00 to charity. The mansion is truly special and a national treasure.
Between Christ and Satan in the Demon World of Today

It is difficult to say exactly at what point fear begins, when the causes of that fear are not plainly before the eyes. Impression gather on the surface of the mind, film by film, as ice gathers upon the surface of still water, but so often so lightly that they claim no definite recognition from the conscious Then a point is reached where the accumulated impressions become a definite emotion, and the mind realized that something has happened. When a medium is called upon to relay a message which supposedly comes the realm of the dead, one usually goes into a trance. This is a “condition in which a spiritualist medium allegedly loses consciousness and passes under the control of some external force, as for the supposed transmission of communications from the dead.” In a state of unconsciousness, the necromancer may obtain communication in the for of automatic writing, but it usually comes through verbal speech. Sometimes the phenomenon called “materialization” occurs. This is defined as the ability on the part of some mediums “to create from unknown materials outside of their own body, some visible, tangible, more or less highly organized new formations supplied with their own illumination (such as efflorescent substance) for which formations in many cases, the human body in part or in whole forms a pattern, and these materializations appear and disappear suddenly. Many reputable writers report that the materializations actually have been photographed and carefully studied. They are sometimes called phantasms, and seem to speak while the medium appears to be unconscious. When a materialization does not occur, the unconscious sounds exactly like that of the deceased person one has been attempting to reach. Many people have gone to a séance believing the whole idea to be fraudulent, but have become firmly convinced that they truly heard a loved one who had died. #RandolphHarris 1 of 16

Automatic writing is another baffling spiritisitic marvel. The mediums may, while in a trance, inscribe a paper with the exact handwriting of the deceased. At other times a pencil may write without being touched by the human hand or any apparent mechanical device. Then again, in some instances a phantasm does the transcribing. Of course, before we accept reports of this nature, we must recognize the possibilities of deliberate deceit, overwrought imagination, or inaccurate observation. If, on the other hand, one simply dismisses the testimony of intelligent, honest, God-fearing humans as having no value, one is not being fair. A further word of caution is in order. Christians may be tempted to conclude that these strange and unexplainable phenomena are proof of God’s existence. This is not correct because many of them may have a naturalistic explanation. Writings produced mysteriously in seances have been carefully examined by graphologist, and have even become the objects over which court battles have been fought. Spiritists usually attempt their alleged contact with the spirit World through a medium who enters what appears to be a trance, and receives some kind of communication in either verbal or written form. Undoubtedly some people who claim to have this ability are impostors, but hundreds of educated humans who have been closely involved in this activity or have conducted intensive investigation are convinced that extraordinary, perhaps supernatural, spiritual power is involved. However, those who believe the Holy Bible are certain that all necromancy is sinful and dangerous. As we look at the most considerable Evidence touching Florence Newton’s witchcraft upon Mary Longdon, for which she was committed to Youghall Prision, 24th March 1661, it is interesting to find that the following she bewitched one David Jones to death by kissing his hand through the Grate of the Prison, for which she was indicted at Cork Assizes. #RandolphHarris 2 of 16

Elenor Jones, Relict of the said David Jones, being sworn and examined in open Court what she knew concerning any practice of Witchcraft by the said Florence Newton upon the said David Jones her Husband, gave in Evidence, that April last the said David, having been out all night, came home early in the morning, and said to her, Where dost thou think I have been all Night? To which she answered she knew not; whereupon he replied, I and Frank Beseley have been standing Centinel over the Witch all night. To which the said Elenor said, Why, what hurt is that? Hurt? Quoth he. Marry I doubt it is never a jot the better for me; for she hath kiss’d my Hand, and I have a great pain in that arm, and I verily believe she hath bewitch’d me, if ever she bewitch’d any Man. To which she answered, The Lord forbid! That all that Night, and continually from that time, he was restless and ill, complaining exceedingly of a great pain in his rm for seven days together, and at the seven days’ end he complained that the pain was come from his Arm to his Heart, and then kept his bed Night and Day, grievously afflicted, and crying out against Florence Newton, and about fourteen days after he died. Francis Beseley being sworn and examined, saith, That about the time aforementioned meeting with the said David Jones, and discoursing with him of the several reports then stirring concerning the said Florence Newton, that she had several Familiars resorting to her in sundry shapes, the said David Jones told him he had a great mind to watch her one Night to see whether he could observe any Cats or other Creatures resort to her through the Grate, as ‘twas suspected they did, and desired that said Francis to go with him, which he did. And that when they came thither David Jones came to Florence, and told her that he heard she could not say the Lord’s Prayer; to which she answered, She could. He then desir’d her to day it, but she excused herself by the decay of Memory through old Age. #RandolphHarris 3 of 16

Then David Jones began to teach her, but she could not or would not say it, though often taught it. Upon which the said Jones and Beseley being withdrawn a little from her, and discoursing of her not being able to learn this Prayer, she called out to David Jones, and said, David, David, come hither, I can say the Lord’s Prayer now. Upon which David went towards her, and the said Deponent would have pluckt him back and persuaded him not to have gone to her, but he would not be persuaded, but went to the Greate to her, and she began to say the Lord’s Prayer, but could not say Forgive us our trespasses, so that David again taught her, which she seem’d to take very thankfully, and told him she had a great mind to have kiss’d him, but that the Grate hindered her, but desired she might kiss his Hand; whereupon he gave her his Hand through the Grate, and she kiss’s it; and towards break of Day they went away and parted, and soon after the Deponent heard that David Jones was il. Whereupon he went to visit him, [and was told by hum that the Hag] had him by the Hand, and was pulling off his Arm. And he said, Do you not see the old hang How she pulls me? Well, I lay my Death on her, she has bewitched me. Fourteen days languish he died. This concludes the account of Florence Newton’s trial, as given by Glanvill. It seems that the witch was indicted upon two separate charges, with bewitching the servant-girl, Mary Longdon, and with causing the death of David Jones. The case must have created considerable commotion in Youghal, and was considered so important that the Attorney-General went down to prosecute, but unfortunately there is no record of the verdict. If found guilty (and we can have little doubt but that she was), she would have been sentenced to death in pursuance of the Elizabethan Statute, section I. #RandolphHarris 4 of 16

Many of the actors in the affair were persons of local prominence, and can be identified. The “Mr. Greatrix” was Valentine Greatrakes, the famous healer or “stroker.” He was born in 1629, and died in 1683. He joined the Parliamentary Army, and when it was disbanded in 1656, became a country magistrate. At the Restoration he was deprived of his offices, and then gave himself up to a life of contemplation. In 1662 the idea seized him that he had the power of healing the king’s-evil. He kept the matter quiet for some time, but at last communicated it to his wife, who jokingly bade him try his power on a body in the neighbourhood. Accordingly he laid his hands on the affected parts with prayer, and within a month the body was healed. Gradually his fame spread, until patients came to him from various parts of England as well as Ireland. In 1665 he received an invitation from Lord Conway to come to Ragely to cure his wife of perpetual headaches. He stayed at Ragley about three weeks, and while there he entertained his hosts with the story of Florence Newton and her doings; although he did not succeed in curing Lady Conway, yet many persons in the neighbourhood benefited by his treatment. The form of words he always used was: “God Almighty heal thee for His mercy’s sake”; and if the patient professed to receive any benefit he bade them give God the praise. He took no fees, and rejected causes which were manifestly incurable. In modern times the cured have been reasonably attributed to animal magnetism. He was buried beside his father at Affane, Co. Waterford. Some of his contemporaries had a very poor opinion of him; Increase Mather, writing in 1684, alludes contemptuously to “the late miracle-monger or Mirabilian stroaker in Ireland, Valentine Greatrix,” who he accused of attempting to cure an ague by the use of that “hobgoblin word, Abrodacara.”John Pyne the employer of the bewitched servant-girl, served as Bailiff of Youghal along with Edward Perry in 1664, the latter becoming Mayor in 1674; both struck tradesmen’ tokens of the usual type. #RandolphHarris 5 of 16

Richard Myres was Bailiff of Youghal in 1642, and Mayor in 1647 and 1660. The Rev. James Wood was appointed “minister of the gospel” at Youghal, by Commonwealth Government, at a salary of L120 per annum;in 1654 his stipend was raised to L140, and in the following year he got a further increase of L40. He was sworn in a freeman at large in 1656, and appears to have been presented by the Grand Jury in 1683 as a religious vagrant. Furthermore, it seems possible to recover the name of the Judge who tried the case at the Cork Assizes. Glanvill says that he took the Relation from “a copy of an Authentick Record, as I conceive, every half-sheet having W. Aston writ in the Margin, and then again W. Aston at the end of all, who in all likelihood must be some publick Notary or Record-Keeper.” This man, who is also mentioned in the narrative, is to be identified with Judge Sir William Aston, who after the establishment of the Commonwealth came to Ireland, and was there practising as a barrister at the time of the Restoration, having previously served in the royalist army. On 3rd November 1660 he was appointed senior puisne Judge of the Chief Place, and died in 1671. The story accordingly is based on the note taken by the Judge before whom the case was brought, and is therefore of considerable value, in that it affords us a picture, drawn by an eye-witness in full possession of all the facts, of a witch-trial in Ireland in the middle of the seventeenth century. In discussing the religious beliefs of people who seek to converse with the dead, we can distinguish between those who claim to be “Christian” and those who make no pretense of accepting historic Christianity. The distinction between these groups is sometimes made by using the term “spiritualist” to denote the ones who profess to believe the Bible, and designating the others as “spiritists.” #RandolphHarris 6 of 16

Believe it or not, after Mrs. Sarah Winchester lost her six-week-old daughter and husband, the distracted widow turned to spiritualism because she felt that she was haunted by spirits of the damned. Her husband, William Wirt Winchester was a man, a man of God. Celibacy had become Mrs. Winchester’s personal goal. It liberated her and fueled the spiritualist that sustained her in hopes of the eternal life she craved. Mrs. Winchester was always resplendent in luxurious clothes and bejeweled with bracelets, anklets, rings, and ropes of gold necklaces inlaid with pearls and precious stones. The fragrance of her perfume and cosmetics was pleasant. Mrs. Winchester’s beauty mesmerized everyone she came into contact with. God had inspired her to attend Center Church Praise House in New Haven, Connecticut. Mrs. Winchester felt at home in this church. She enjoyed the gospel. The sermon was so eloquent and moving that the floor was wet with the congregation’s tears. The Tiffany stained glass windows, which told the story of the Puritan settlers and how as they gathered under an oak tree, and Jesus led them to build the new Kingdom of God. Also, the Waterford crystal chandelier was a favourite her hers, the warm glow it provided made her feel the presence of God. There was also sumptuous music from the massive pipe organ that filled the air, while members sat in the beautiful ornate wooden pews praising the Lord. The exterior of the church was exquisite. It looked like a Roman palace. It was a traditional gorgeous red brick and white wood, adored with Corinthian pillars, and an amazing tower that reached to the Heavens as its focal point. However, this is when strange things started to happen. #RandolphHarris 7 of 16

Mrs. Winchester noticed that the main floor of the church was raised up a few feet higher than the rest of the green. She was curious as to why. She went to the floor below, not without trepidation, and lite a candle, and discovered that underneath was a crypt. The church was built on top of an ancient cemetery with grave stones from the late 17th century to the early 19th century. The gravestones were left in their original position to be protected by the church’s foundation where a crypt, an enclosed chamber, around the burial ground was created. There were 137 grave stone that belonged to New Haven’s founders and earliest citizens. During her tour, Mrs. Winchester felt an intense spiritual energy, the colonial burial ground had been untouched. Mrs. Winchester always e practical views about spooks, but she had a vision of huntsmen—one of whom was untidily cutting the throat of a fallow deer upon the very grave of Reverend James Pierpont’s grave. She felt an awful and soul-freezing situation of horror and went back upstairs. Nothing much happened at the church dinner that night. However other worshippers, moved by Mrs. Winchester’s evident emotion, marveled in whispers about her. They said she must have been haunted by spirits and that is why she stumbled upon the secret crypt and the someone heard her conversing with the devil. A furious gust rattled the windows of the church, and she thought what a pity the congregation’s Christmas would be spent in such a climate. Days later, the Evil One appeared to Mrs. Winchester, pounding at her front door and shouting recriminations at Mrs. Winchester for stealing away his prize. She said a prayer, and the Evil One disappeared. #RandolphHarris 8 of 16

Over the next week, Satan often reappeared, offering her jewels and riches to return to his service and moaning that she had jilted him. In response, she inventoried all her belongings and donated them to the church, her mentor, and a spiritual guide. Worldly possession would not longer matter. Mrs. Winchester intended to wed her newly widowed person to Jesus Christ as His bride, and nothing could deter her. However, the Devil would not stop using his infinitely subtle tactics and trickeries in manipulating her. After seeing that man’s dreadful face in the crypt of the church, it positively haunted her. That white skin, with the black hair brushed low over the forehead, was a thing he could never forget, and the dismembered body that lay near the deer. Foretelling her future, one seer warned Mrs. Winchester of all the countless thousands of departed souls slain by her husband’s rifles; she must protect herself and atone for such mass murder. She was told to plan a castle and continue its building indefinitely because as long was it was under construction she would live; cessation would prove immediately fatal. Mrs. Winchester moved to California, to the Santa Clara Valley, bought an unfished farmhouse. She hired an army of carpenters and work began; architect and foreman quit the first day. Jesse Evans had willfully speared the rumour among villagers that the Winchester mansion was haunted. No one would venture near the house except in broad daylight. The haunted Winchester mansion was part of the gospel of the countryside. One of the foremen who stayed on was William Cantelo. He occupied a separate Victorian house on the estate of the Winchester mansion with a few other men employed by Mrs. Winchester. The house was put in thorough repair and expansion, though not a stick of the old furniture and tapestry were removed. Floors and ceilings were relaid: the roof was made watertight again, and the dust of half a century was scoured out. #RandolphHarris 9 of 16

The ground floor and first floors set a heavy timber door, strongly barred with iron, in the passages between the earlier farmhouse and the expansion of the mansion, so there had been a great deal of work done. However, workmen refused to remain after sundown. Even after the electric light had been put into the four story mansion, which was now adored with a nine-story tower, nothing would induce them to remain, though, electric light was death on ghosts. The legend of the Winchester’s ghosts had gone far and wide, and the men would take no risks. They went home in batches of five and six, and if anyone happened to be out of sight of one’s companion, even during the daylight hours, there was an inordinate amount of talking between one another. On the whole, though nothing of any sort or kind had been conjured up by their heated imaginations during their years of work upon the Winchester, the belief in ghosts was rather strengthened because men’s confessed nervousness, and local tradition declared itself in favour of the ghost of a man. The mansion was very large, some estimated that it must have been 50,000 square feet prior to the 1906 earthquake. Every inch of the walls, including the doors, were covered with tapestry, and remarkably fine Italian furniture. They key to the massive front door was made of solid gold and the other 2,000 doors of this Eighth Wonder of the World filled two buckets. It once contained 500 rooms. There are five different heating systems, three elevators, thirteen bathrooms. One rambling room has four fireplaces and five hot-air registers. There is a spiral stairway that has 42 steps, each two inches high. Other stairways melt into blank walls. A second story door opens into the great outdoors and a 20-foot step. #RandolphHarris 10 of 16

There is a linen closet that has the area of a three-room apartment; a nearby cupboard is less than one-inch deep. A skylight is placed in the middle of a room, in the floor! Another floor is apparently a series of trap-doors. Exterior faucets project unexpectedly from under the second-story windows. The visitors must stoop through one door to enter, the next gives clearance for an eight-foot giant. Many stairway posts are upside down. And legions of ghost are said to lurk around every square foot of the mansion. All the furniture was well made, and of dark expensive rare wood. Even the looking-glass on the dressing-table in Mrs. Winchester’s bedroom is an old pyramidal Venetian glass set in heavy repousse frame of tarnished silver. Yet nothing could well have been less creepy than the glitter of silver and glass, and the subdued lights and cackle of conversation around the empty dinner table in the Venetian dinner room. Mrs. Winchester hoped by introducing such beauty into her estate would introduce a new and cheerful spirit, not only to her mansion, but would also break the curse and send the ignorant superstitions of the past into oblivion. Henry, the butler, after dinner one night, retired to pantry were the $30,000.00 gold dinner service and fine china and crystal were kept to make sure nothing went missing (that is where the name “Butler’s pantry” comes from. The butler would sleep in a large pantry to guard the contents.) He would read Heart of Darkness by Joseph Conrad and other fine authors until he felt ready to go off. Henry fumbled for the peart at the end of the cord that hung down inside the bed, and switched on the flight on the bedside lamp. Then sudden dazzled him for the moment. He felt under his pillow for his book with half-shut eyes. Then, growing used to the light, he happened to look down to the foot of his bed. #RandolphHarris 11 of 16

His heart stopped dead, and throat shut automatically. In one instinctive movement, he crouched back up against the head-boards of the bed, staring at the horror. The movement set his heart going again, and the sweat dripped from every pore. He was not a particularly religious man, but he had always believed that God would never allow any supernatural appearance to present itself to man in such a guise and in such circumstances that harm, either bodily or mental, could result to him. However, in a moment, his life and reasoned rocked unsteadily on their seats. Leaning over the foot of his bed, looking at him, was a figure swathed in a rotten and tattered veiling. This shroud passed over the head, but left both eyes and the right side of the face bare. It then followed the line of the arm down to where the hand grasped the bed-end. The face was not entirely that of a skull, though the eyes and the flesh of the face were totally gone. There was a thin, dry skin drawn tightly over the features, and there was some skin left on the hand. One wisp of hair crossed the forehead. It was perfectly still. He looked at it, and it looked at him, and his brains turned dry and hot in his head. He had still got the pear of the electric lamp in his hand, and he played idly with it; only he dared not turn the light out again. Henry shut his eyes, only to open them in a hideous terror the same second. The thing had not moved. His heart was thumping like it was about to jump out of his chest, and the sweat cooled him as it evaporated. Another cinder tinkled in the grate, and a panel creaked in the wall. He reason failed him. For twenty minutes, or twenty second, he was able to think of nothing else but this awful figure, till there came, hurtling though the empty channels of his sense, the remembrance of the foremen and architect quitting on their first day. #RandolphHarris 12 of 16

At last, Henry moved. How he managed to do it, he had no idea, but with one spring toward the foot of the bed he got within arm’s-length and struck out one fearful blow with his fist at the thing. It crumbled under it, and his hand was cut to the bone. With a sickening revulsion after his terror, Henry dropped half-fainting across the end of the bed. After he came to, there was utter quiet, but Henry seemed to hear something. He could not be sure, but at last there was no doubt. There was a quiet sound as one moving along the passage. Little regular steps came towards him over the hard teak flooring. He was speechless. He turned the light out, and fell forward with his own head pressed into the pillow of the bed. He then sank to his knees and put his face in the bed. Only he heard footsteps. Footsteps came to the door, and there they stopped. There was a rustling of moving stuff, and evil spirit was in the room. Mrs. Winchester had been awakened by the noise and he could hear her through the annunciator praying. Henry was cursing his own cowardice. Then steps moved out again on the oak boards of the passage, and he heard the sounds dying away. In a flash of remorse Henry went to the door and looked out At the moment later the passage was empty He stood with his forehead against the jamb of the door almost physically sick. “You can turn on the light,” he said, and there was no answer. By morning light that filtered past the curtains, he could see his way. There was nothing wrong in the room from end to end, except smears of his own blood on the end of the bed, the china hutch, and on the carpet. When he got upstairs to check on Mrs. Winchester, Henry heard sleet volleying against the window panes. And he thought to himself, “I must pack.” Mrs. Winchester was fine, she was brushing he lovely long locks and pretending nothing happened. #RandolphHarris 13 of 16

And he did hear someone coming softly up their stairs. Henry stood still a moment on the landing to listen. It could not be Mrs. Winchester’s step, he thought; I am looking right at her. However, then the steps ceased suddenly and he heard no more. They were at least two flights down, and Henry came to the conclusion they were too heavy to be those of Angus the maid. No doubt they belonged to a foreman who had mistaken the floor. He went into his bedroom and packaged his bags as best as he could. Once or twice, however, he caught himself wondering who it could have been wandering down below, the floor was empty and unfurnished. From time to time, moreover, Henry was almost certain he heard a soft tread of someone padding about over the bare boards—cautiously, stealthily, as silently as possible—and, further, that the sounds bad been lately coming distinctly near. For the first time in his life he began to feel a little creepy. In the sitting-room, he was not pleased to hear again that stealthy tread upon the stairs, and to realize that it was much closer than before, as well as unmistakably real. And this time he got up and went out to see who it could be creeping about on the upper staircase at so late an hour. However, the sound ceased; there was no one visible on their stairs. And by this time, everyone was in bed and asleep—everyone except himself and the owner of this soft and stealthy tread. “My absurd imagination, I suppose,” Henry thought. “It must have been the wind after all, although—it seemed so very real and close, he thought.” Henry went back to his packing. It was by this time getting on toward midnight. With something of a start, Henry suddenly recognized the he felt nervous—oddly nervous; also, that for some time past the causes of this feeling had been gathering slowly in his mind, but that he had only just reached the point where he was forced to acknowledge them. #RandolphHarris 14 of 16

It was a singular and curious malaise that had come over him, and he hardly knew what to make of it. Henry felt as though he were doing something that was strongly objected to by another person, another person, moreover, who had some right to object. It was a most disturbing and disagrreable feeling, not unlike the persistent promptings of conscience: almost, in fact, as if he were doing something he knew to be wrong. Yet, though he searched vigorously and honestly in his mind, he could nowhere lay his finger upon the secret of this growing uneasiness, and it perplexed him. More, it distressed and frightened him. “Pure nerves, I suppose,” he said aloud with a forced laugh. He was standing by the door of the bedroom during this brief soliloquy, and as he passed quickly towards the sitting-room to fetch them from the cupboard he saw out of the corner of his eye the indistinct outline of a figure standing on the stairs, a few feet from the top. It was someone in a stooping position, and with one hand on the banisters, and the face peering upwards toward the landing. And at that same moment he heard a shuffling footsteps. The person who had been creeping about below all this time had at last come up to his own floor. Who in the World could it be? And what in the name of Heaven did he want? Henry caught his breath sharply and stood stock still. Then, after a few seconds’ hesitation, he found his courage, and turned to investigate. The stairs, he saw to his utter amazement, were empty; there was no one. He felt a series of cold shivers run over him, and something about the muscles of his legs gave a little and grew weak. And so now, Henry saw nothing but the dreadful face of John Bender Jr. of the “The Bloody Benders.” Lowering at him from ever corner of his mental field vision; the white skin, the evil eyes, and the fringe of black hair low over the forehead. Henry utter a scream and, and drew back his hands as if they had been burn. No one ever heard from him again. #RandolphHarris 15 of 16

When the Bender family fled town, their inn was investigated, and a secret room was found covered in blood. Upon further investigation, nine bodies were found on their property. Among one of them was Henry Clitz, Mrs. Winchester’s butler. It is believed the entire family performed the killings. Although John Jr. died during the escape, none of the other Benders were ever found. It was an awkward and disagreeable predicament, Henry found himself in. In his effort to find the brass button on the wall in the butler’s pantry, he nearly scraped the nails from his fingers, but even then, in those frenzied moments of alarm—so swift and alert were the impressions of a mind, keyed-up by a vivid emotion—he had time to realize the he dreaded the return of the light, and that it might have been better for him to stay hidden in the merciful screen of darkness. It was but the impulse of a moment, however, and before he had time to act upon it he had yielded automatically to the original desire, and the room was flooded with light. So many people praised the light, but often overlook the security and shelter that the darkness provides. Through the 38 years of residence, Mrs. Winchester’s employees remained fiercely and faithfully loyal, defending every eccentricity. Perhaps Henry’s betrayal attracted a force in the Winchester mansion that desired to consume his soul, and make him an eternal resident. Mrs. Winchester was deeply concerned with the welfare of her employees and their families. They were well paid and often additionally rewarded with gifts, even homes, real estate, transportation machines, and even lifetime pension. In truth, volumes could be written extolling her many virtues and justifying construction of the most beautiful and bizarre of all abodes. Still, the Question remains—Why? Why? The enigma of the Mystery House that tragedy and a rifle built is perhaps unanswerable. The present generation must weigh and draw its own conclusions about the Valley’s most interesting, most controversial, most unappreciated and surely our most mysterious First Lady! #RandolphHarris 16 of 16

Winchester Mystery House

On today’s episode of 13 Days of Christmas we look back at other events that took place during the same year that Sarah spent her first Christmas on her San Jose Estate.

A 160-room mansion built to appease the spirits who died at the hands of the Winchester Rifle 👻
🗝 winchestermysteryhouse.com







































































































































