Henry James’ The Turn of the Screw

Henry James, an American
writer who spent most of his career in Britain, published this classic story as a novella in 1898. The Turn of the Screw is one of the most famous ghost tales ever written. 

James once said that his interest in ghost stories evolved from the fact that “the strange and sinister appear to be normal and easy.”

He achieved this with great success in telling the story of an innocent, naive young woman who is persuaded by a handsome, rich bachelor to travel to a remote serene country mansion in Essex. She is to take charge of his niece and nephew as their governess.

James masterfully makes his main character--the governess, the narrator of this tale. So the story is told in a confiding confidential manner where the reader is only exposed to one biased view.

In contrast, James never names this young woman--she is always referred to as just “the governess.” This technique ensures that the state of her character remains a mystery to the reader.

Early in the story, the governess encounters two ghosts. James presents these scenes in eerie silence, which makes them creepier. The governess becomes convinced that these supernatural forces are there to corrupt her two young pupils. As the story unfolds, she struggles to keep these dark forces from harming her charges.

Her efforts become even more fanatical when she fears the children are communicating with these ghosts-- whom they knew when they were alive. She believes this even though they and the rest of the household claim never to have seen the spirits.

James uses this uncertainty to keep the reader wondering if there is a haunting or if the governess is just crazy.

He also keeps the reader on edge by not clarifying plot twists, e.g., when the nephew comes home because he was kicked out of his school--the only reason given is vague-- leaving the reader to wonder if the boy is at fault or not.

James’ two main themes: the corruption of innocence and the destruction of heroism play out throughout this story.

Many feel that the fears the governess holds for the children symbolize her own fear of the outside world e.g., sex, love, and responsibility. They also point to her role as a protector of the children being just her delusional attempt to impress their uncle, a ladies man who never actually visits the estate.

In the end, the niece is so afraid of the governess that the housekeeper intervenes and whisks her away from the estate. This leaves the governess with the nephew and the ghosts she believes haunt him…

The ending to The Turn of the Screw is not only a surprise but also a shock to the reader.

Here is a link to a reading of the story on YouTube with the written text, it is broken into 3 parts. 

A Ghost Named Thankful

Old House Journal has a page dedicated just for their favorite ghost stories. Old homes that are renovated often stir up paranormal activity. This magazine’s readers submit stories about their encounters with ghosts.

My favorite story in this magazine was first published in the fall of 1988. A couple bought their dream 220 -year-old- farmhouse in Connecticut in the 1970s.

As they moved in it was apparent to them that they were not alone. It seemed they had a “permanent resident” on their hands. The wife stated, “It was like someone was reading over our shoulders.” She told her husband that she didn’t know why but that she felt their ghost was a woman.

The family often heard doors opening and closing--sometimes they were slammed. They heard footsteps upstairs most often in their daughter’s bedroom-- when their daughter was downstairs. The family also found items often were moved. They were then found later in unusual places.

Despite the fact this activity continued the couple stated they never were afraid. In fact, the wife felt comforted by the ghost’s presence. It was like there was lightness in the air when she was around.

Unfortunately, not everyone reacted the same way to her presence. One winter afternoon the families’ handyman was repairing a back windowsill when he realized a tool he needed was in the home. The family was away for the afternoon so he entered and existed the home through the basement cellar. When he tried to open the door that led from the cellar into the home he found it locked.

He heard footsteps overhead in the living room so he called out, “Can you unlock the door.” When he didn’t get a response he headed around to the front of the home thinking the family must have returned. But there was no car in the drive and the front of the house was securely locked.

He once again went to the back and entered the cellar. This time he heard footsteps near the door. The handyman once again called out but there was no response. He went back to the broken window and peered inside the home. He saw a form walking through one of the back rooms. Now upset, he left quickly leaving his tools behind.

After several months the couple became curious about their ghost. The wife called the previous owners who had lived in the farmhouse for over twenty years. This woman asked her about the “ghost” before she even mentioned it.

Shortly afterwards the family saw the ghost for the first and only time. They thought they saw a child walking down the stairs from the second floor but then they realized it was an old woman. She had grey eyes and wore a grey dress. She was very short and thin. This woman disappeared as they stared at her.

Later, when the wife dug into the history of the home she discovered that the farmhouse had been built around 1777. The same family, the Knapps had owned the farm for three generations. The last Knapp to live on the farm-- Ira Knapp brought his new bride, Thankful Knapp to the farm in the 1800s. Thankful was a small woman, weighing only 90 pounds.

Ira died in 1871 when Thankful was 65 years old. Her son’s encouraged her to move in with one of them but to their frustration Thankful refused stating she loved the farm and wanted to stay put. At the age of 85 Thankful was killed when she fell down the farmhouse cellar stairs.

As it turned out the couple was grateful for Thankful’s presence in their home. Once when the wife lost her wedding ring she searched for several weeks. Finally, fed up she requested, “Thankful, can you help me find it?” The following morning she entered the kitchen and spotted the ring lying in the middle of the tiled floor.

Another time the couple’s daughter returned home from school to discover she had forgotten her key. It was raining so she went around to the back porch and took shelter with the family’s two dogs. She tried the back kitchen door but it was locked and chained. She called out, “Thankful, please let me in, I’m cold.” When she bent down to pet the dogs the door flew open.

The family’s cat particularly enjoyed Thankful’s presence. They often saw him bouncing around pawing at something unseen in the air. He would jump and spin around as if he was being coaxed. He also would walk from room to room and back again as if he was following someone.

One time the family watched as he ran smack into a wall. He then sat staring at the wall as if he were asking why couldn’t I go through too. They then followed him as he ran around the corner and continued to play in the adjoining room at the exact spot on the other side of this wall.

The family noted that sometimes Thankful presence wasn’t felt or heard for a while. One of these times was when the cat died. All was quiet for two weeks. The wife felt Thankful must have been as sad as the family. Each year on January 22^nd the home was very quiet. The wife went back through the history she had copied and discovered that Ira, Thankful’s husband had died on this date.

San Antonio: Ghost Railroad Children

This legend is by far one of Texas’ favorite ghost tales. It is so popular some even state they wish it were true. Most people interested in ghosts have heard at least one version of this story. 

What many don’t know is that versions of this story are told in several locations around the United States. San Antonio’s version is a part of a subset of ghost stories known as “Gravity Hill” tales.

It is stated that this story happened in the 1930s. The basic premise is that a school bus with ten children stalled south of San Antonio on a railroad track. Before the bus driver could get the children off the bus a speeding train smashed into it killing all on board. It is stated that these child spirits linger at the spot where they died.

The story goes on to state these ghost children not wanting others to experience their tragic fate make sure that cars cross this railroad track safely. How they do this is by pushing any cars that are stopped near these tracks across to the other side. 

This particular version is unique in that it involves hundreds of people who have parked their cars near this intersection to see if this legend is actually true. *

Some walk away as believers after they test this legend. This is not surprising because whether cars are running or their engines are off if they are put in neutral they do move up and across these tracks often gaining speed as they go. 

People are mystified because their cars not only move on their own but it also appears as if they are going up hill. Some witneses have even put balls on Shane Road-- they also appear to roll up hill. But this is actually just an optical illusion.

It does appear this road goes up hill.

Another aspect to this story is that many witnesses have put baby powder on their bumpers and trunks or they basically just have dusty cars. It is stated that after their cars stop on the other side they often find small finger or handprints within this dust. 

These prints are pointed to as proof these ghost children pushed their cars across the tracks to safely. This part of the legend makes it even more intriguing.

Some facts--this accident happened in the first part of the 20^th century but stories about this haunting did not begin to circulate until the 1970s. It should also be noted that there are no written records of a train/bus accident like this occurring in San Antonio. ** 

People wanting this legend to be true point out the fact that the street names around this road are named after these children but actually the developer of this area named these streets after his grandchildren.

Gravity Hill stories most often involve teens not children I think this is one reason the San Antonio story has become so popular. Here is a link to another gravity hill story I wrote entitled, Crybaby Bridge: Monmouth Illinois. Another one is a legend told in New Jersey about Franklin Lake’s Gravity Road.

* One Texas writer when addressing this topic wily mentioned that all these “tests” especially around Halloween really put these poor child spirits to work.

** There was a tragic Salt Lake City, Utah school bus accident in 1938 involving twenty-six children on a school bus that stalled on a railroad track and was hit by an oncoming freight train--this story did receive extensive coverage in Texas at the time. 

The following is just one of many videos made of people “testing” this road.

New Mexico Harbinger: La Mala Hora

Northern NM night sky.

I first heard a version of this story in Northern New Mexico in the early 1980s. La Mala Hora in Spanish means “the bad hour.” 

When the frightening apparition in this story appears it is always at a fork in the road or crossroad where a lone driver in a car is traveling in an isolated area. 

This apparition is a harbinger of death.

I still can’t drive a deserted road at night without thinking about this story. I guess it is because the image of the harbinger is so scary. The story begins with a phone call.

My friend Isabella called sobbing to tell me that she and her husband were getting a divorce. Devastated for her I called my husband who was on a business trip in Chicago to inform him that I was going to drive to Santa Fe so I could comfort Isabella. My husband agreed and wished me well. 

It was late in the day when I started the drive. Santa Fe is a four-hour drive from where I live, so I estimated I would not reach Isabella’s house until midnight.

Tired, I found myself doing several things in the car, so I would not fall asleep at the wheel. I turned the radio’s volume up and rolled down the window to breathe some fresh air. 

As I drew nearer to the turnoff to Isabella’s house, I rolled the window up feeling a chill. The night was dark, and the rural road I traveled had no streetlights.

I was having trouble seeing the road that stretched ahead, and I slowed down so I wouldn’t miss the turnoff to the dirt road that led to Isabella’s property. 

A coyote howled in the distance, this distracted me for a moment; I almost missed the turn-off. Feeling relieved, this trip was almost over I relaxed. 

As the road split into two I took the left fork, out of nowhere a woman appeared in front of my car, I slammed on my brakes quickly to avoid hitting her.

Seconds later, the woman was gone. I inspected the area around my car, wondering if I had imagined her. 

Then I saw her right beside my window looking in at me. Her eyes glowed red, her short teeth were pointed, I screamed as she leaped at my window her clawed hands striking the glass. 

I jammed my foot down hard on the accelerator, rocks flew as my car sped away, terrified I watched, as she was able to quickly run alongside my car continuing to strike the window, despite my speed. 

She finally fell behind, and in my rearview mirror, I saw her grow taller and taller until she was as large as a tree. Red mist swirled around her, and she pointed at me mouthing words I did not hear. 

I jerked my attention back to my driving afraid what might happen if I ran my car off the road.

In a state of numbed panic, I reached Isabella’s drive and rushed to her entrance, I was still pounding on her door as she opened it. I fell into her arms, crying and shaking. She assisted me over to a chair and gave me water to drink. I somehow was able to tell her what I had seen. 

Shaking her head in concern, she asked, “Were you at the fork when you saw her?” Confused, I nodded yes. Wringing her hands, she told me it must have been La Mala Hora. 

"The bad hour?” I asked. 

Isabella turned to me, “this is bad, very bad when La Mala Hora appears it means one thing—someone is going to die.” 

Not believing in this superstition I laughed. But what I had seen still weighed heavily on my mind. Isabella was so distracted as she helped me bring in my luggage, she did not even mention her divorce.

The next morning I felt much better. But as the day progressed, I could not shake a feeling of dread. Neither one of us mentioned what had happened the night before, but we were both worried about La Mala Hora as I announced I best head home. 

Isabella insisted upon accompanying me home. We left the quickly, neither one of us wanting to pass the fork in the road at night. 

Within twenty minutes of pulling into my drive, a police car pulled up at my house. Isabella and I both knew what this meant. 

The police officer informed me gently that while returning from dinner, in Chicago, my husband had been mugged, at the same time I had seen La Mala Hora, his body had been found in an ally. He had been shot in the head and died instantly.