by Charles Fort
Brooklyn Eagle, Sept. 10, 1891—something that was seen, at Crawfordsville, Indiana, 2 a.m., Sept. 5th. Two icemen saw it. It was a seemingly headless monster, or it was a construction, about twenty feet long, and eight feet wide, moving in the sky, seemingly propelled by fin-like attachments. It moved toward the icemen. The icemen moved. It sailed away, and made such a noise that the Rev. G.W. Switzer, pastor of the Methodist church, was awakened, and, looking from his window, saw the object circling in the sky.
I supposed that there was no such person as the Rev. G.W. Switzer. Being convinced that there had probably never been a Rev. G.W. Switzer, of Crawfordsville—and taking for a pseudo-standard that if I’m convinced of something that is something to suspect—I looked him up. I learned that the Rev. G.W. Switzer had lived in Crawfordsville, in September, 1891. Then I found out his present address in Michigan. I wrote to him, and received a reply that he was traveling in California, and would send me an account of what he had seen in the sky, immediately after returning home. But I have been unable to get him to send that account. If anybody sees a “headless monster” in the sky, it is just as well to think that over, before getting into print. Altogether, I think that I make here as creditable and scientific a demonstration as any by any orthodox scientist, so far encountered by us. The problem is: Did a “headless monster” appear in Crawfordsville, in September, 1891? And I publish the results of my researches: “Yes, a Rev. G.W. Switzer did live in Crawfordsville, at the time.”
I’d like to know what Mr. W.H. Smith saw, Sept. 18, 1877, in the sky, moving over the city of Brooklyn. It looked like a winged human form (New York Sun, Sept. 21, 1877).
Zoologist, July, 1868—something that was seen in the sky, near Copiapo, Chile—a construction that carried lights, and was propelled by a noisy motor—or “a gigantic bird; eyes wide open and shining like burning coals; covered with immense scales, which clashed together with a metallic sound.”
I don’t know what will be thought generally of our data, but in the New York Times, July 6, 1873, the writer of General Notes tells of something that he considered “the very worst case of delirium tremens on record.” This was before my time. He copied from the Bonham (Texas) Enterprise—that a few days before the time of writing, a man living five or six miles from Bonham, had told of having seen something like an enormous serpent, floating over his farm; and that other men working in the fields had seen the thing and had been frightened. I suppose that, equally deliriously, inhabitants of the backwoods of China, would similarly describe one of this earth’s airships floating over their farms. I don’t know that this one account, considered alone, amounts to anything, but, in the Times, of the 7th of July, I found something else noted. A similar object had been reported from Fort Scott, Kansas. “About halfway above the horizon, the form of a huge serpent, apparently perfect in form, was plainly seen.”
New York Times, May 30, 1888—reports from several places, in Darlington County, S.C.—huge serpent in the sky, moving with a hissing sound, but without visible means of propulsion.
In the London Daily Express, Sept. 11, 1922, it is said that, upon September 9th, John Morris, coxswain of the Barmouth (Wales) Life Boat, and William James, looking out at sea, from the shore, at Barmouth, saw what they thought was an aeroplane falling into the ocean. They rushed out in a motor boat, but found nothing. In the Barmouth Advertiser, of the 14th, it is said that this object had fallen so slowly that features described as features of an aeroplane had been seen. In newspapers and aeronautical journals of the time, there is no findable record of an aeroplane of this earth reported missing.
There was a series of occurrences, in the summer of 1910. Early in July, the crew of the French fishing smack, Jeune Frédéric, reported having seen, in the sky, off the coast of Normandy, a large, black, bird-like object. Suddenly it fell into the sea, bounded back, fell again, and disappeared, leaving no findable traces. Nothing was known of the flight of any terrestrial aircraft, by which to explain (London Weekly Dispatch, July 10). Upon August 17th (London Times, August 19) laborers at work in the forest east of Dessau, Germany, saw in the sky an object that they thought was a balloon. It suddenly flamed, and something that was thought to be its car, fell into the forest. The Chief Forester was notified, and a hunt, on a large scale, was made, but nothing was found. Aeronautical societies reported that no known balloon had been sent up. It was thought that the object must have been somebody’s large toy balloon. About this time, the fall from the sky of a white cylinder of marble was reported. One of us pioneers, or whatever we are, Mr. F.T. Mayer, looked up this matter, and learned that the reported occurrence was upon the farm of Mr. Daniel Lawyer, Rural Route 4, Westerville, Ohio. I wrote to Mr. Lawyer, asking whether the object could be considered artificial. I had an idea that it might, or might not, be a container of a message that had been fired to this earth from Mars or the moon or somewhere else. Mr. Lawyer did not like the suggestion of artificiality, which he interpreted as meaning that he had picked up something that had been made in Ohio. He said that it was not an artificial object, but a meteorite. For a reproduction of a photograph of this symmetric, seemingly carved cylinder, twelve inches long, weight about three pounds, see Popular Mechanics, 14-801. About 9 p.m., August 30th—lights as if upon an airship, moving over New York City (New York World, August 31). Aviators were interviewed, but all known aircraft were accounted for. World, September 2—that two men had sent up a large kite. Upon the 21st of September (New York Tribune, September 22) a great number of round objects were seen passing from west to east over the lower part of New York City. Crowds stood in the streets, watching them. They were thought to be little balloons. I have records of similar objects, in large numbers that could not be considered little balloons. For several hours this procession continued. If somebody in Jersey City was advertising, he kept quiet in his bid for publicity. The next day, at Dunkirk, N.Y., an object, described as an unknown cigar-shaped balloon, was seen in the sky, over Lake Erie, seeming to be unmanageable, gradually disappearing late in the evening. There was so much excitement in Dunkirk that tugboats went out and searched all night. Toronto Daily Mail and Empire, September 24—that someone on a tugboat had found a large box-kite, which had been sent up by a party of campers, and was undoubtedly the reported object.
Mr. A.H. Savage-Landor, in Across Unknown South America, vol. II, p. 425, tells a story that was told to him, by the people of Porto Principal, Peru, in January, 1912—that, some years before, a ship had been seen in the sky, passing over the town, not far above the treetops. According to his interpretations, it was a “square globe,” flying a flag of Stars and Stripes. Mr. Savage-Landor thinks that the object might have been the airship, which, upon Oct. 17, 1910, Wellman abandoned about 400 miles east of Hatteras. In newspaper accounts of this unsuccessful attempt to cross the Atlantic, it is said that, when abandoned, this airship was leaking gas rapidly. If a vessel from somewhere else, flying the Stars and Stripes, is pretty hard to think of, except by thinking that there are Americans everywhere, also the “square globe” is not easy, at least for the more conventional of us. Probably these details are faults of interpretation. Whatever this thing in the sky may have been, if we will think that it may have been, it returned at night, and this time it showed lights.
In the New York newspapers, September, 1880, are allusions to an unknown object that had been seen traveling in the sky, in several places, especially in St. Louis and Louisville. I have not been able to get a St. Louis newspaper of this time, but I found accounts in the Louisville Courier-Journal, July 29, Aug. 6, 1880. Unless an inventor of this earth was more self-effacing than biographies of inventors indicate, no inhabitant of this earth succeeded in making a dirigible aerial contrivance, in the year 1880, then keeping quiet about it. The story is that, between six and seven o’clock, evening of July 28th, people in Louisville saw in the sky “an object like a man, surrounded by machinery, which he seemed to be working with his hands and feet.” The object moved in variou
s directions, ascending and descending, seemingly under control. When darkness came, it disappeared. Then came dispatches, telling of something that had been seen in the sky, at Madisonville, Ky. “It was something with a ball at each end.” “It sometimes appeared in a circular form, and then changed to an oval. It passed out of sight, moving south.”
These are stories of at least harmless things that were, or were not, seen over lands of this earth. It may be that if beings from somewhere else would seize inhabitants of this earth, wantonly, or out of curiosity, or as a matter of scientific research, the preference would be for an operation at sea, remote from observations by other humans of this earth. If such beings exist, they may in some respects be very wise, but—supposing secrecy to be desirable—they must have neglected psychology in their studies, or unconcernedly they’d drop right into Central Park, New York, and pick up all the specimens they wanted, and leave it to the wisemen of our tribes to explain that there had been a whirlwind, and that the Weather Bureau, with its usual efficiency, had published warnings of it.
Now and then admirers of my good works write to me, and try to convert me into believing things that I say. He would have to be an eloquent admirer, who could persuade me into thinking that our present expression is not at least a little fanciful; but just the same I have labored to support it. I labor, like workers in a beehive, to support a lot of vagabond notions. But how am I to know? How am I to know but that sometime a queen-idea may soar to the sky, and from a nuptial flight of data, come back fertile from one of these drones?
In the matter of the disappearance of the Danish training ship Kobenhoven, which, upon Dec. 14, 1928, sailed, with fifty cadets and sailors aboard, from Montevideo, I note that another training ship, the Atalanta (British) set sail, early in the year 1880, with 250 cadets and sailors aboard, from Bermuda, and was not heard of again.
Upon Oct. 3, 1902, the German bark, Freya, cleared from Manzanillo for Punta Arenas, on the west coast of Mexico. I take from Nature, April 25, 1907. Upon the 20th of October, the ship was found at sea, partly dismasted, lying on her side, nobody aboard. The anchor was still hanging free at her bow, indicating that calamity had occurred soon after the ship had left port. The date on a calendar, on a wall of the Captain’s cabin, was October 4th. Weather reports showed that there had been only light winds in this region. But upon the 5th, there had been an earthquake in Mexico.
Several weeks after the disappearance of the crew of the Freya, another strange sea occurrence was reported.
Zoologist, 4-7-38—that, according to the log of the steamship Fort Salisbury, the second officer, Mr. A.H. Raymer, had, Oct. 28, 1902, in Lat. 5º, 31’ S., and Long. 4º, 42’ W., been called, at 3:05 a.m., by the lookout, who reported that there was a huge, dark object, bearing lights in the sea ahead. Two lights were seen. The steamship passed a slowly sinking bulk, of an estimated length of five or six hundred feet. Mechanism of some kind—fins, the observers thought—was making a commotion in the water. “A scaled back” was slowly submerging.
One thinks that seeing for such details as “a scaled back” could not have been very good, at three o’clock in the morning. So doubly damned is this datum that the attempt to explain it was in terms of the accursed Sea Serpent.
Phosphorescence of the water is mentioned several times, but that seems to have nothing to do with two definite lights, like those of a vessel. The Captain of the Fort Salisbury was interviewed. “I can only say that he (Mr. Raymer) is very earnest on the subject, and has, together with the lookout and helmsman, seen something in the water, of a huge nature, as specified.”
One thinks that this object may have been a large, terrestrial vessel that had been abandoned, and was sinking.
I have looked over Lloyd’s List, for the period, finding no record, by which to explain.
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As to data that we shall now take up, I say to myself: “You are a benign ghoul, digging up dead, old legends and superstitions, trying to breathe life into them. Well, then, why have you neglected Santa Claus?”
But I am particular in the matter of data, or alleged data. And I have come upon no record, or alleged record, of mysterious footprints in snow, on roofs of houses, leading to chimneys, Christmas Eves.
There is a great deal, in the most acceptable of the science of today that represents a rehabilitation of supposed legends, superstitions, and folk lore. Recall Voltaire’s incredulity as to fossils, which according to him only a peasant would believe in. And note that his antagonism to fossils was probably because they had been taken over by theologians, in their way of explaining. Here was one of the keenest of minds: but it could not accept data, because it rejected explanations of the data. And so one thinks of, say, the transmutation of metals, which is now rehabilitated. And so on. There are some backward ones, today, who do not believe in witches: but every married man knows better.
In the month of May, 1810, something appeared at Ennerdale, near the border of England and Scotland, and killed sheep, not devouring them, sometimes seven or eight of them in a night, but biting into the jugular vein and sucking the blood. That’s the story. The only mammal that I know of that does something like this is the vampire bat. It has to be accepted that stories of the vampire bat are not myths. Something was ravaging near Ennerdale, and the losses by sheep farmers were so serious that the whole region was aroused. It became a religious duty to hunt this marauder. Once, when hunters rode past a church, out rushed the whole congregation to join them, the vicar throwing off his surplice, on his way to a horse. Milking, cutting of hay, feeding of stock were neglected. For more details, see Chambers’ Journal, 81-470. Upon the 12th of September, someone saw a dog in a cornfield, and shot it. It is said that this dog was the marauder, and that with its death the killing of sheep stopped.
For about four months, in the year 1874, beginning upon January 8th, a killer was abroad, in Ireland. In Land and Water, March 7, 1874, a correspondent writes that he had heard of depredations by a wolf, in Ireland, where the last native wolf had been killed in the year 1712. According to him, a killer was running wild, in Cavan, slaying as many as thirty sheep in one night. There is another account, in Land and Water, March 28. Here, a correspondent writes that, in Cavan, sheep had been killed in a way that led to the belief that the marauder was not a dog. This correspondent knew of forty-two instances, in three townlands, in which sheep had been similarly killed—throats cut and blood sucked, but no flesh eaten. The footprints were like a dog’s, but were long and narrow, and showed traces of strong claws. Then, in the issue of April 11th, of Land and Water, came the news that we have been expecting. The killer had been shot. It had been shot by Archdeacon Magenniss, at Lismoreville, and was only a large dog.
This announcement ends the subject, in Land and Water. Almost anybody, anyway in the past, before suspiciousness against conventions had the development that it has today, reading these accounts down to the final one, would say—“Why, of course! It’s the way these stories always end up. Nothing to them.” But it is just the way these stories always end up that has kept me busy. Because of our experience with pseudo-endings of mysteries, or the mysterious shearing and bobbing and clipping of mysteries, I went more into this story that was said to be no longer mysterious. The large dog that was shot by the Archdeacon was sacrificed not in vain, if its story shut up the minds of readers of Land and Water, and if it be desirable somewhere to shut up minds upon this earth.
See the Clare Journal, issues up to April 27th—the shooting of the large dog, and no effect upon the depredations—another dog shot, and the relief of the farmers, who believed that this one was the killer—still another dog shot, and supposed to be the killer—the killing of sheep continuing. The depredations were so great as to be described as “terrible losses for poor people.” It is not definitely said that something was killing sheep vampirishly, but that “only a piece was bitten off, and no flesh sufficient for a dog ever eaten.”
The scene of the killings shifted.<
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Cattan Weekly News, April 17—that, near Limerick, more than 100 miles from Cavan, “a wolf or something like it” was killing sheep. The writer says that several persons, alleged to have been bitten by this animal, had been taken to the Ennis Insane Asylum, “laboring under strange symptoms of insanity.”
It seems that some of the killings were simultaneous near Cavan and near Limerick. At both places, it was not said that finally any animal, known to be the killer, was shot or identified. If these things that may not be dogs be, their disappearances are as mysterious as their appearances.
There was a marauding animal in England, toward the end of the year 1905. London Daily Mail, Nov. 1, 1905—“the sheep-slaying mystery of Badminton.” It is said that, in the neighborhood of Badminton, on the border between Gloucestershire and Wiltshire, sheep had been killed. Sergeant Carter, of the Gloucestershire Police, is quoted—“I have seen two of the carcasses, myself, and can say definitely that it is impossible for it to be the work of a dog. Dogs are not vampires, and do not suck the blood of a sheep, and leave the flesh almost untouched.”
And, going over the newspapers, just as we’re wondering what’s delaying it, here it is—
London Daily Mail, December 19—“Marauder shot near Hinton.” It was a large, black dog.
So then, if in London any interest had been aroused, this announcement stopped it.
We go to newspapers published nearer the scene of the sheep-slaughtering. Bristol Mercury, November 25—that the killer was a jackal, which had escaped from a menagerie in Gloucester. And that stopped mystification and inquiry, in the minds of readers of the Bristol Mercury.