Some things defy human understanding and simply cannot be explained. Perhaps one day we will be able to rise beyond Earthly shadows and discover the secrets of the dead. For centuries, spiritists have believed that there is a portal leading from life to death and from death to life. Souls depart from the World every day, and souls on the other side of the veil can cross over into our World. The World of the living. My home has become a twilight of supernatural occurrences. Its rooms possess many dreadful secrets, ghastly inhabitants, for it is a place where ghosts and other terrors walk. The thick air in Llanda Villa is filled with anxiety, and screams, swearing, shouting echo from the rooms beyond with nerve-jarring regularity. And then, prayers of desperation. Most distressing of all is once one starts up the easier risers, quick shadows loom, and flight becomes impossible, as the moments tick painfully. Often as I walked the halls of my labyrinth soul searching, I could feel a cold breeze creeping in. It lifts my hair and, in that moment, I feel the dance of cold fingers along my spine. But was it anything to fear? A young man, Tobey, nineteen years of age, who had been staying in my home and working as a farmhand. He was really close to the supernatural phenomena—visible and tangible—that he speculated so grotesquely about it; and for another thing, he was amazingly will to make a long and ample confession. This youth avowed that some months before, when he was in bed, the chamber door opened, and a maiden, Athena, whom he loved, stealthily entered the room. To his surprise she informed him that she had been driven from her chamber and had taken refuge with him.
Although he more than suspected some delusion, after a short while he consented to her solicitations and passed a night of unbounded indulgence in her arms. Before dawn, however, the visitant revealed the true nature of the deceit, and the young man realized he had lain with a succubus. None the less such was his doting folly that the same debauchery was repeated night after night, until struck with terror and remorse, he sought the priest to confess and be delivered from this admonition. “This monstrous connexion lasted several months; but at last God delivered him by my humble means, and he was truly penitent for his sins.” Not infrequently the Devil or the familiar assigned to the new witch at the Sabbat when she was admitted must obviously have been a man, once of the assembly, who either approached her in come demoniacal disguise or else embraced her without any attempt at concealment of his individuality, some lusty varlet who would afterwards hold himself at her disposition. For we must always bear in mind that throughout this era, there is often much in the evidence which may be explained by the agency of human beings; not that this essentially meliorates their offenses, for they were all bond-slaves of Satan, acting under his direction and by the inspiration of hades. When the fiend has ministers devoted to his service there is, perhaps, less need for his interposition in propria persona. I might say, with all proper modesty, that the subject of anthropology and folklore is by no means strange to me. It is no news to me that talks of demons and hidden races are as old as mankind.
Howbeit, again and again in these cases we meet with that uncanny quota, by no means insignificant and unimportant, which seemingly admits of no solution save by the materialization of evil intelligences of power. And detailed as is the evidence we possess, it not unseldom becomes a matter of great difficulty, when we are considering a particular case, to decide whether it be an instance of a witch having had actual commerce and communion with the fiend, or whether she was cheated by the devils, who mocked her, and allowing her to deem herself in overt union with them, thus led the wretch on to misery and death, duped as she was by the father of lies, sold for a delusion and by profitless endeavour in evil. There are, of course, also many cases which stand on the border-line, half hallucination, half reality. The Devil knows all the Witches. He takes a female shape to pleasure the Sorcerers. Other reasons why the Devil (had to do) with warlocks and witches. The unnatural physical coldness of the Demon is well known by witches in every country of Europe throughout the centuries. In some cases, there was full materialization due to the ectoplasmic emanations. Ectoplasm is the touch of cold and viscous mass comparable to contact with a reptile, and this certainly seem to throw a flood of light upon the what I have experienced in my home. In 1888 a young housemaid said that the Devil who appeared to her as a dark swarthy youth “was colder than man. I fand his nature als cold, a spring-well-water, uerie cold, as yce.”
One night, unable to sleep, I was staring out through my bedroom window at the moonlit lawn. From the shrubbery there emerged what I at first thought was some trick of the shadows. Then I saw that it was some great. It was too far away for me to be able to see it clearly, but I imagined that it turned its head to look up at my window—to look directly at me. Then, in a blink of an eye, it was moving at impossible speed across the silver grass until it was lost from my sight. I have certain evidence that monstrous things do indeed live on this estate and in rooms which nobody visits. The voices my servants here in my home have nearly scared them paralysed by reason. I know what most people think of one who tells about “hearing voices”—but before anyone draws conclusions, they have to experience it for themselves. It is true—terribly true—that there are non-human creatures watching us all the time; with spies among us gathering information. If we let them alone, they will not hurt us. If we get too curious about them, no one can say what will happen. Because of what I have discovered, I think they mean to get rid me. That is what the Boston medium has explained. There is a great diamond with unknown hieroglyphics half worn away which I found in a safe that my husband had locked away in his office; and after I took it home, everything became different. Our one-month-old daughter died, and fifteen years later, William suffered a mysterious and tragic death. If I stop construction on Llanada Villa, they will kill me. This is why I have urged my staff to hush about the supernatural aspects of my home.
People must be kept away from my estate, the front doors must never be opened, and in order to effect this, their curiosity ought not be aroused any further. Heaven knows there is peril enough anyway, with promoters and real estate men flooding Santa Clara with herds of summer people to overrun the wild places and cover the hills with cheap bungalows. Those creatures have a way of tampering with things around here. There is a sullen, furtive fellow named Arkie, who is a farmer on my estate, whom I believe is a spy for the dark lord. Little by little they are trying to cut me off from our World because I know too much about their World. They have the most amazing way of finding out what I do. Furthermore, I would hardly dare sell this house to anybody now that the ghastly demons have made it their home. I have invited my niece Daisy to live with me, and given her a trust fund to ensure that this estate will always remain in our family and will be well taken care of. As I sit here glancing through documents neatly arranged in stacks on the cherrywood table, I was growing more anxious. As the hour passed and the whitely steaming sun moved lethargically through the sky, I grew calm again. Mr. Hasen was out mowing and tending the enormous lawn, which invariably grows back more lushly within a few days. However, it seemed strange to me that he had halted so suddenly, with a field of lawn left to mow.
With his arms raised at his sides, Mr. Hasen’s posture tense, vigilant; his face, shrouded in shadow, showing no animation. “Mr. Hansen?” Tobey blundered forward, unthinking. Seeing, in that instant, that the figure confronting him was not Mr. Hansen but—the demon-without-a-face. Tobey stood paralysed, transfixed. For it might have seemed to him that this was buy a symptom of the insomnia of which he had grown fatally proud: a nightmare figure standing before him which he had imagined into being; a dream of his and not “real”; or, if “real,” as the atrocities in the mansion were real, in some way not related to him. He had not time to cry out for help before the creature lunged at him, swiping with its hands as a maddened bear might swipe savagely and blindly; so much heavier and stronger than Tobey, Tobey was knocked to the ground as if he were a small child and not a nineteen-year-old young man. Except for the sounds of the nocturnal insects there was silence, for the demon did not speak, nor could Tobey scream, his breath choked off as the-demon-without-a-face crouched over him where he had fallen, raining blows upon his unprotected head, clawing and tearing at his face, tearing away the flesh of his face as Tobey fell, and fell, into the Earth beneath the wild grasses of The Winchester Estate. My staff ran hither and thither until they found hi body. So then they laid the body across a horse, and they say it was all they could manage to keep the beast from bolting away from the time they were in sight of the tree, for it seemed to be mad with fright.
However, they managed to bind the eyes of the horse and lead it down through the fruit orchards to the village street; and there, just by the big tree where the stocks are found, they found a lot of women gathered, and a boy lying in the middle, as white as paper, and not a word could they get out of him, good or bad. So they saw there was something worse to come, and they made the best of their way up the lane to Dr. Meckelburg’s house. And when they got near that, the horse they were leading seem to go mad again with fear, and reared up and screamed, and struck out with its fore-feet and the man that was leading it was as near as possible being killed, and the dead body fell off its back. So Mr. Dillenburg bid them get those horse away as quick as might be, and they carried the body straight into the living-room, for the door stood open. And then they saw what it was that had given the poor boy such a fright, and they guessed why the horse went made, for you know horses cannot bear the smell of dead blood. There was a long table in the room, more than the length of a man, and on it there lay the body of Dr. Meckelburg. The eyes were bound over with a linen band and the arms were tied across the back and the feet were bound together with another band. However, the fearful thing was that the breast being quite bare, the bone of it was split through from the top downwards with an axe! Oh, it was a terrible sight; not one there but turned faint and ill with it, and had to go out into the fresh air. Even Mr. Dillenburg, who was what you might call a hard nature of a man, was quite overcome and said a prayer for strength in the garden.
At least they laid out the other body as best they could in the room, and searched about to see if they could find out how such a frightful thing had come to pass. And in the cupboards they found a quantity of herbs and jars with liquors, and it came out, when people that understood such matters had looked into it, that some of these liquor were drinks to put a person asleep. And they had little doubt that that wicked young man had put some of this into Dr. Meckelburg’s drink, and then used him as he did, and, after that, the sense of his sin had come upon him and he had cast himself away. Well now, you could not understand all the law business that had to be done by the coroner and the magistrates; but there was a great coming and going of people over it for the next day or two, and then the people of the parish got together and agreed that they could not bear the thought of those two being buried in the churchyard alongside of Christian people; for I must tell you there were papers and writings found in the drawers and cupboards that Mr. Dillenburg and some other clergymen looked into; and they put their names to a paper that said these men were guilty, by their own allowing, of the dreadful in of idolatry; and they feared there were some in the neighbouring places that were not free from wickedness, and called upon them to repent, lest the same fearful thing that was to come to these men should befall them also; and then they burnt those writing.
So then, Mr. Dillenburg was of the same mind as the parishioners, and late one evening twelve men that were chosen went with him to that evil house, and with them they took two biers made very roughly for the purpose and two pieces of black cloth, and down at the cross-road, there were other men waiting with torches, and a pit dug, and a great crow of people gathered together from all round about. And the men that went to the cottage went in with their hats on their heads, and four of them over with the black cloths, and no one said a word, but they bore them down the lane, and they were cast into the pit and covered over with stone and Earth, and then Mr. Dillenburg spoke to the people that were gathered together. My butler was there, for he had come back when he heard the news, and he said he never should forget the strangeness of the sight, with the torches burning and those two black things huddled together in the pit, and not a sound from any of the people, except it might be a child or a woman whimpering with the fright. And so, when Mr. Dillenburg had finished speaking, they all turned away and left them lying there. They say horses do not like the spot even now, and I have heard there was something of a mist or a light hung about for a long time after, but I do not know the truth of that. However, I do know this, that next day my butler’s business took him past the opening of the lane, and he saw three or four little knots of people standing at different places along it, seemingly in a state of mind about something; and he rode up to them, and asked what was the matter.
And they ran up to him and said, “Oh, Sir, it’s the blood! Look at the blood!” and kept on like that. So he got off his horse and they showed him, and there, in four places, I think it was, he saw great patches in the road, of blood; but he could hardly see it was blood, for almost every spot of it was covered with great black bats, that never changed in their place or moved. And that blood was what had fallen out of Dr. Meckelburg’s body as they bore it down the lane. Well, my butler could not bear to do more than just take in the nasty sight so as to sure of it, and then he said to one of those men that was there, “Do you make haste and fetch a basket or a barrow full of clean Earth out of the churchyard, and spread it over these places, and I’ll wait here till you come back.” And very soon he came back, and the old man that was sexton with him, with a shovel and the Earth in a hand-barrow: and they set it down at the first of the places and made ready to cast the Earth upon it; and as soon as ever they did that, what do you think? the bats that were on it rose up in the air in a kind of a solid could and moved off up the lane towards the house, and the sexton (he was parish clerk as well) stopped and looked at them and said to my Butler, “Lord of Darkness, sir,’ and no more would he say. And just the same it was at other places, every one of them.
My butler them made up his mind that no one was going to live in that cottage again, or yet use any of the things that were in it: so, though it was to be done away with, and anyone that wished could bring a faggot to the burning of it; and that is what was done. They built a pile of wood in the living-room and loosened the thatch so as the fire could take good hold, and then set it alight; and as there was no brick, only the chimney-stack and the oven, it was not long before it was all gone. I seem to remember seeing the chimney, but after a few years, it fell down. You may be sure that for a long time the people said Dr. Meckelburg and Tobey were seen about, the one of them in the wood and both of them where the house had been, or passing together down the lane, particularly in the winter of the year and at autumn-time. I cannot speak of that, though if we were sure there are such things as ghost, it would seem likely that people like that would not rest quiet. However, I can tell you this, that one evening in the month of January, I had been taking a long walk on my estate and picking flowers and had not taken any particular notice of where I was going. And on a sudden I cried out. I had felt a sharp prick on the back of my hand, and I snatched it to me and saw a black bat on it, and struck it with the other hand and killed it. I had never seen a bat like that before. And then I looked about, and lo and behold if I was not in the very lane, just in front of the place where that house stood, and, as they told me after, just where the men set down the biers a minute when they bored them out of the garden.
You may be sure I made haste away from there; for I was wholly upset finding myself there. Whether there was anything about there more than I could see I shall never be sure: perhaps it was partly the venom of that horrid bat’s bite that was working on me that made me feel so strage; for, dear me, how that poor arm and hand of mine did swell up, to be sure! I am afraid to tell you how large it was round! and the pain of it, too! Nothing Dr. Wayland could put on it had any power over it, and it was not until he was persuaded by our old nurse to get the wise man to come and look at it, that I got any peace at all. However, he seemed to know about it, and said I was not the first that had been taken that way. “When the sun’s gathering his strength,” he said, “and when he’s in the height of it, and when he’s beginning to lose his hold, and when he’s in his weakness, them that haunts about that lane had best to take heed to themselves.” However, what it was he bound on my arm and what he said over it, he would not tell us. After that I soon got well again, but since then I have heard often enough people suffering much the same as I did; only of late years it does not seem to happen but very seldom: and maybe things like that do die out in the course of time. (One can interpret this story in many ways, of course. If it really occurred, and there were a number of accounts of it in existence that leads me to believe that there is a basis of fact to this, then perhaps we are dealing with a case of prophecy on the part of Mrs. Winchester.)
The Winchester Mystery House
The ancient folklore, while cloudy, evasive, and largely forgotten by the present generation, is of a highly singular character, and obviously reflects the influence of still earlier Victorian tales. I know it well, though I had never been in the Santa Clara Valley in the Victorian era, through the exceedingly rare monograph of Mrs. Sarah L. Winchester, which embraces material orally obtained prior to 1906 among the oldest people of the state. This material, moreover, closely coincided with tales which I personally heard from elderly rustics in the Santa Clara Valley. Briefly summarized, it hinted at hidden demonic beings which lurked somewhere among The Winchester Estate—in the deep woods, and the dark corners of the mansion where hallways lead to unknow parts of the hose. These beings were seldomly glimpsed, but evidences of their presence were reported by the staff of the mansion who ventured farther than the usual pathways of the mansion or deep into the home where even Mrs. Winchester shunned. There were queer footprints on the floors and ceilings, claw marks in the wall, blood spatter on the windows. There were, too, certain rooms of problematical nature, with more than the average quota of curious foot prints leading both toward and away from the walls—if indeed the direction of these prints indicated that something or someone was walking through the walls.
If the stray accounts of these things had not agreed so well, it would have been less uncomfortable. As it was, nearly all the rumours had several point in common; averring that these creatures sometimes walked on their legs, and sometimes they were composed of a mist and able to fly. On one occasion they were spied in considerable numbers, in the Grand Ball Room. One specimen was seen flying—departing from the chimney at night and vanishing in the sky after it had been instantly silhouetted by the full moon. These things seemed content, on the whole, to let mankind alone; though they were at times held responsible for the disappearance of servants and venturesome individuals—especially uninvited persons who came too close to The Winchester Mansion or too close to secrets inside of the house. People would look at Mrs. Winchester’s home with a shudder, even when not recalling how many people had been lost. However, while according to the earliest legends the demons would appear to have harmed only those trespassing on their privacy; there were later accounts of their curiosity respecting men, and of their attempts to loot the mansion. There were tales of the queer bloody claw prints seen around the windows in the morning, and of occasional disappearances in regions of the obviously haunted estate.
Tales, besides, echoes of haunting voices deep in the mansion, and of children, while sneaking to get a closer glimpse of Mrs. Winchester and her home, frightened out of their wits by things seen or heard. In the final layer of legends—the layer just preceding the decline of superstition and the abandonment of close contact with the dreaded estate—there are shocked references to housemaids and farmers who at some period of life appeared to have undergone a repellent mental change, and who were shunned and whispered about as mortals who had sold themselves to the Devil. In America, it seemed to be a fashion about 1800 to accuse eccentric and wealthy recluses of being allies of Satan or representatives of the abhorred things. As to what thing things were—explanations naturally varied. The common name applied to the was demons. The inquiry was made whether a demon may thus attack a man or woman, whose obsession would be suffered if the subject were wholly bent on entering The Winchester Mansion without permission. It is certain that—whatever doubters may say—there exist such demons, incubi and succubi that it is most rash to advance the contrary. Wherefore the men or women who suffer these impudicities are the sinners who either invite demons…or who freely consent to demons when the evil spirits tempt them to commit such abominations.
That these and other abandoned wretches may be violently assaulted by the demon we cannot doubt…and I myself have known several persons who although they were greatly troubled on account of their crimes, and utterly loathed this foul intercourse with the demon, were nevertheless compelled sorely against their will to endure these assaults of Satan. Perhaps the bulk of Puritan settlers set them down bluntly as familiars of the devil, and made them a basis of awed theological speculation. Those with Celtic legendry in their heritage—mainly the Scotch-Irish element of Santa Clara, and their kindred who had settled in Oakland—linked them with the malign fairies and “little people” of the bogs and raths, and protected themselves with scraps of incantation handed down through many generations. While Native Americas had the most fantastic theories of all. While different tribal legends differed, there was a marked consensus of belief in certain vital particulars; it being unanimously agreed that the creatures were not native to this Earth. It was bad to get near them, and sometimes young hunters who went onto the estate never came back.
It was not good either, to listen to what they whispered at night in the fruit orchards with voices that contained the echo of death. All the legendry, of course, white and Native American alike, died down during the nineteenth century, except for occasional flareups. The ways of the people of the Santa Clara Valley became settled; once their habitual paths and dwellings were established according to a certain fixed plan, they remembered less and less what fears and avoidances had been linked to The Winchester Estate, but they still knew that there had been fears and avoidances. After the death of Mrs. Winchester of the 760 acres of land she had, her estate was sold and only retained 161 acres of land, one acre for ever room that remained in the house. And The Winchester Mansion and its land were left deserted. Save during infrequent local scares, only wonder-loving grandmothers whispered of beings dwelling in that mansion. It is so rash and inept to deny these (things) that so to adopt this attitude, you must needs reject and spurn the most weighty and consider judgements of the mot holy and authoritative writers, you mut wage war upon man’s sense and consciousness, whilst at the same time you expose your ignorance of the power of the Devil and the empery evil spirits may obtain over man.
The reason evil spirits appear as incubi and succubi would seem to be that they inflict a double hurt on man, both in his soul and body, and it is a supreme joy to devils thus to injure humankind. A demon assumes the form of the succubus…This is the explicit teaching of the theologians. It has often been known by most certain and actual experience that women in spite of their resistance have been overpowered by demons. This is a most solemn and undoubted fact not only proved by actual experience, but also by the opinion of all the ages, whatever some few doctors and legal writers may suppose. Even if such horrors ever could have taken place in the dark ages—those vague Dark Ages!—men say, “they would never be permitted now.” It may not impertinently be inquired how demons or evil intelligences, since they are pure spiritual beings, cannot act of coition. However, evil intelligence is able to animate the corpse of some human being, male or female, as the case may be, or that, from the mixture of other materials he shapes for himself a body endowed with motion, by means of which he is united to the human being: “ex mixtione aliarum materiarum effingit sibi corpus, quod mouet, et mediante quo homini unitur.”
In the first instance, advantage might be taken, no doubt, of a person in a mediumistic trance or hypnotic sleep. However, the second explanation seems by far the more probable. Can we not look to the phenomena observed in connexion with ectoplasm as an adequate explanation of this? It must fairly be admitted that this explanation is certainly born out by the phenomena of the materializing séance where physical forms which may be touched and handled are built up and disintegrated again in a few moments of time. Mrs. Winchester, in a symposium, gives certain of her own experiences that go far to prove the partial re-materialization of the dead by the utilization of the material substance and ectoplasmic emanation of the living. And if disembodied spirits can upon occasion, however, rare, thus materialize, why not evil intelligences whose efforts at corporeality are urged and aided by the longing thoughts and concentrated will power of those who eagerly seek them? Emperor Lucifer, Master and Prince of Rebellious Spirits, I adjure thee, as the representative of the mighty living God, and by the power of Emanuel, his only Son, who is thy master and mine, and by the virtue of His precious blood, which He shed to redeem mankind from thy chains, I command thee to quit thine abode, wheresoever it may be, and manifest here and now. Esta es Buena parati. Esta parati lo toma. Placet Priape? Qui sub arboris coma soles sacrum reuincte pampino caput ruber sedere cum rubente fascino.
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Randolph Harris II International Institute 