If you have ever watched James Wan’s 2013 supernatural thriller The Conjuring and wondered whether the terrifying farmhouse from the film actually exists, the answer is a definitive yes. The property is not a Hollywood set built on a studio backlot—it is a genuine, centuries-old colonial estate tucked away in the rural landscape of New England. For horror aficionados and paranormal enthusiasts alike, the question of where is The Conjuring House is the first step toward understanding a location that has become synonymous with American folklore, controversial hauntings, and a deeply complex historical legacy.
The home stands quietly today at 1677 Round Top Road in Burrillville, Rhode Island 02830, right near the village of Harrisville. It occupies an 8.5-acre plot of land in the far northwestern corner of the state, so close to the Massachusetts border that you can cross from one state to the other in a matter of moments. For those traveling from major cities in the region, the journey is quite manageable: the property lies roughly 40 to 45 minutes northwest of Providence and just over an hour from Boston, making it an accessible day trip for curious visitors throughout New England. The farmhouse itself spans approximately 3,100 square feet and contains fourteen rooms, its weathered clapboard exterior and rural setting lending it the exact sort of brooding atmosphere that filmmakers so often seek to replicate.
Before it was ever known as The Conjuring House, this property was called the Old Arnold Estate, a name that ties it directly to one of the region’s earliest and most prominent families. The land was originally deeded in 1680, and the main structure of the house dates back to 1736—placing its construction nearly a full century before the American Revolution. For eight successive generations, members of the Arnold family lived and worked this farm, their lives interwoven with the soil and seasons of rural Rhode Island. It is precisely this deep, layered history that lends the property its undeniable gravitas; long before any claims of paranormal disturbance emerged, the estate had already witnessed centuries of birth, death, hardship, and quiet, everyday existence.
The transformation from a quiet colonial farmhouse into an internationally recognized landmark of the supernatural began in earnest during the winter of 1971, when Roger and Carolyn Perron moved into the home with their five young daughters. The family almost immediately reported a cascade of strange and unsettling occurrences: unexplained noises, objects moving of their own accord, and the persistent sensation of an unseen presence watching from the shadows. As their distress mounted, the Perrons eventually reached out to Ed and Lorraine Warren, the renowned paranormal investigators who would later become the central figures of The Conjuring film franchise. In 1973, the Warrens conducted a séance inside the house—an event that Andrea Perron, the eldest daughter, would later describe as both terrifying and transformative, culminating in a moment where she claims to have witnessed her mother levitating from a chair and being thrown violently across the room. These experiences, meticulously documented by the Warrens and later chronicled by Andrea Perron in her three-volume memoir House of Darkness, House of Light, served as the foundational inspiration for the 2013 film that launched a billion-dollar horror empire.
It is important, however, to distinguish the cinematic narrative from the historical record. The film positions a woman named Bathsheba Sherman as the central malevolent force—a witch who sacrificed her own child and cursed the land. The reality is far more nuanced and, in many ways, far more tragic. The actual Bathsheba Sherman was born Bathsheba Thayer in 1812 and lived her life in the Harrisville area, dying in 1885 at the age of 72 following complications from a stroke. Extensive genealogical and archival research has revealed no credible evidence that she ever practiced witchcraft, killed an infant, or took her own life by hanging, as the film depicts. She was, by all verifiable accounts, an ordinary woman whose name became inextricably—and many would argue unfairly—linked to a narrative of supernatural evil. The distinction is crucial, as it underscores how easily legend can eclipse truth, and how the desire for a compelling story can sometimes overshadow the dignity of real people who can no longer speak for themselves.
The Conjuring House has remained a focal point for paranormal tourism, with a rotating cast of owners who have each attempted to balance the property’s historical significance with its commercial potential as a haunted attraction. In recent years, visitors have been able to book a range of experiences, from daytime historic tours priced at roughly $25 per adult to overnight investigations where groups can spend the dark hours alone inside the farmhouse with ghost-hunting equipment in hand. However, the property has also been embroiled in significant legal and financial turmoil. Following a foreclosure auction that was abruptly canceled in the autumn of 2025, ownership of the underlying mortgage was acquired by YouTuber Elton Castee, while paranormal investigator Jason Hawes—of Ghost Hunters fame—has publicly stated his intention to purchase and preserve the estate. As of early 2026, the fate of the house remains unresolved, caught in a web of legal proceedings across multiple states and subject to a great deal of uncertainty.
For those who still find themselves drawn to the question of where is The Conjuring House, the physical address remains unchanged. The farmhouse continues to stand at 1677 Round Top Road, a silent monument to nearly three centuries of American history, family lore, and the enduring power of the stories we choose to tell. Whether you approach it as a skeptic, a believer, or simply a curious traveler, the property offers a rare opportunity to stand at the intersection of documented fact and popular myth. Just remember to book any visit in advance—the house does not accept unannounced guests—and to approach the site with the respect that any 290-year-old home deserves, regardless of what you believe might be lurking within its walls.