It may be that we now add to our sins the horse that swam in the sky.
For all I know, we contribute to a wider biology. In the New York
_Times_, July 8, 1878, is published a dispatch from Parkersburg, West
Virginia: that, about July 1, 1878, three or four farmers had seen, in a
cloudless sky, apparently half a mile high, “an opaque substance.” It
looked like a white horse, “swimming in the clear atmosphere.” It is
said to have been a mirage of a horse in some distant field. If so, it
is interesting not only because it was opaque, but because of a
selection or preference: the field itself was not miraged.
Black bodies and the dark rabbles of the sky—and that rioting thing,
from floating anarchies, have often spotted the sun. Then, by all that
is compensatory, in the balances of existence, there are disciplined
forces in space. In the _Scientific American_, 44-291, it is said that,
according to newspapers of Delaware, Maryland, and Virginia, figures had
been seen in the sky in the latter part of September, and the first week
in October, 1881, reports that “exhibited a mediæval condition of
intelligence scarcely less than marvellous.” The writer suggests that,
though probably something had been seen in the sky, it was only an
aurora. Our own intelligence and that of astronomers and meteorologists
and everybody else with whom we have had experience had better not be
discussed, but the accusation of mediævalism is something that we’re
sensitive about, and we hasten to the _Monthly Weather Review_, and if
that doesn’t give us a modern touch, I mistake the sound of it. _Monthly
Weather Review_, Sept, and Oct., 1881—an auroral display in Maryland and
New York, upon the 23rd of September; all other auroras in September far
north of the three states in which it was said phenomena were seen.
October—no auroras until the 18th; that one in the north. There was a
mirage upon Sept. 23, but at Indianola; two instances in October, but
late in the month, and in northern states.
It is said, in the _Scientific American_, that, according to the
Warrentown (Va.) _Solid South_, a number of persons had seen white-robed
figures in the sky, at night. The story in the _Richmond Dispatch_ is
that many persons had seen, or had thought they had seen, an alarming
sight in the sky, at night: a vast number of armed, uniformed soldiers
drilling. Then a dispatch from Wilmington, Delaware—platoons of angels
marching and counter-marching in the sky, their white robes and helmets
gleaming. Similar accounts came from Laurel and Talbot. Several persons
said that they had seen, in the sky, the figure of President Garfield,
who had died not long before. Our general acceptance is that all reports
upon such phenomena are colored in terms of appearances and subjects
uppermost in minds.
_L’Astronomie_, 1888-392:
That, about the first of August, 1888, near Warasdin, Hungary, several
divisions of infantry, led by a chief, who waved a flaming sword, had
been seen in the sky, three consecutive days, marching several hours a
day. The writer in _L’Astronomie_ says that in vain does one try to
explain that this appearance was a mirage of terrestrial soldiers
marching at a distance from Warasdin, because widespread publicity and
investigation had disclosed no such soldiers. Even if there had been
terrestrial soldiers near Warasdin repeating mirages localized would
call for explanation.
But that there may be space-armies, from which reflections or shadows or
Brocken spectres are sometimes cast—a procession that crossed the sun:
forms that moved, or that marched, sometimes four abreast; observation
by M. Bruguière, at Marseilles, April 15 and 16, 1883 (_L’Astro._,
5-70). An army that was watched, forty minutes, by M. Jacquot, Aug. 30,
1886 (_L’Astro._, 1886-71)—things or beings that seemed to march and to
counter-march: all that moved in the same direction, moved in parallel
lines. In _L’Année Scientifique_, 29-8, there is an account of
observations by M. Trouvelot, Aug. 29, 1871. He saw objects, some round,
some triangular, and some of complex forms. Then occurred something that
at least suggests that these things were not moving in the wind, nor
sustained in space by the orbital forces of meteors; that each was
depending upon its own powers of flight, and that an accident occurred
to one of them. All of them, though most of the time moving with great
rapidity, occasionally stopped, but then one of them fell toward the
earth, and the indications are that it was a heavy body, and had not
been sustained by the wind, which would scarcely suddenly desert one of
its flotsam and continue to sustain all the others. The thing fell,
oscillating from side to side like a disc falling through water.
New York _Sun_, March 16, 1890—that, at 4 o’clock, in the afternoon of
March 12th, in the sky of Ashland, Ohio, was seen a representation of a
large, unknown city. By some persons it was supposed to be a mirage of
the town of Mansfield, thirty miles away; other observers thought that
they recognized Sandusky, sixty miles away. “The more superstitious
declared that it was a vision of the New Jerusalem.”
May have been a revelation of heaven, and for all I know heaven may
resemble Sandusky, and those of us who have no desire to go to Sandusky
may ponder that point, but our own expression is that things have been
pictured in the sky, and have not been traced to terrestrial origins,
but have been interpreted always in local terms. Probably a living thing
in the sky—seen by farmers—a horse. Other things, or far-refracted
images, or shadows—and they were supposed to be vast lions or soldiers
or angels, all according to preconceived ideas. Representations that
have been seen in India—Hindoo costumes described upon them. Suppose
that, in the afternoon of January 17, 1892, there was a battle in the
sky of Montana—we know just about in what terms the description would be
published. Brooklyn _Eagle_, Jan. 18, 1892—a mirage in the sky of
Lewiston, Montana—Indians and hunters alternately charging and
retreating. The Indians were in superior numbers and captured the
hunters. Then details—hunters tied to stakes; the piling of faggots;
etc. “So far as could be ascertained last night, the Indians on the
reservations are peaceable.” I think that we’re peaceable enough, but,
unless the astronomers can put us on reservations, where we’ll work out
expressions in beads and wampum instead of data, we’ll have to carry on
a conflict with the vacant minds to which appear mirages of their own
emptiness in the sometimes swarming skies.
Altogether there are many data indicating that vessels and living things
of space do come close to this earth, but there is absence of data of
beings that have ever landed upon this earth, unless someone will take
up the idea that Kaspar Hauser, for instance, came to this earth from
some other physical world. Whether spacarians have ever dredged down
here or not, or “sniped” down here, pouncing, assailing, either
wantonly, or in the interests of their sciences, there are data of
seeming seizures and attacks from somewhere, and I have strong
objections against lugging in the fourth dimension, because then I am no
better off, wondering what the fifth and sixth are like.
In _La Nature_, 1888-2-66, M. Adrian Arcelin writes that, while
excavating near de Solutré, in August, 1878, upon a day, described as
_superbe_, sky clear to a degree said to have been _parfaitement_,
several dozen sheets of wrapping paper upon the ground suddenly rose.
Nearby were a dozen men, and not one of them had felt a trace of wind. A
strong force had seized upon these conspicuous objects, touching nothing
else. According to M. Arcelin, the dust on the ground under and around
was not disturbed. The sheets of paper continued upward, and disappeared
in the sky.
A powerful force that swooped upon a fishing vessel, raising it so far
that when it fell back it sank—see London _Times_, Sept. 24, 1875. A
quarter of a mile away were other vessels, from which set out rescuers
to the sailors who had been thrown into the sea. There was no wind: the
rescuers could not use sails, but had to row their boats.
Upon Oct. 2, 1875, a man was trundling a cart from Schaffhausen, near
Beringen, Germany. His right arm was perforated from front to back, as
if by a musket ball (_Pop. Sci._, 15-566). This man had two companions.
He had heard a whirring sound, but his companions had heard nothing. At
one side of the road there were laborers in a field, but they were not
within gunshot distance. Whatever the missile may have been, it was
unfindable.
_La Nature_, 1879-1-166, quotes the _Courrier des Ardennes_ as to an
occurrence in the Commune Signy-le-Pettit, Easter Sunday, 1879—a
conspicuous, isolated house—suddenly its slate roof shot into the air,
and then fell to the ground. There had not been a trace of wind. The
writer of the account says that the force, which he calls a _trouble
inoui_ had so singled out this house that nothing in its surroundings
beyond a distance of thirty feet had been disturbed.
_Scientific American_, July 10, 1880—that, according to the
_Plaindealer_, of East Kent, Ontario, two citizens of East Kent were in
a field, and heard a loud report. They saw stones shooting upward from a
field. They examined the spot, which was about 16 feet in diameter,
finding nothing to suggest an explanation of the occurrence. It is said
that there had been neither a whirlwind nor anything else by which to
explain.
It may be that witnesses have seen human beings dragged from our own
existence either into the objectionable fourth dimension, perhaps then
sifting into the fifth, or up to the sky by some exploring thing. I have
data, but they are from the records of psychic research. For instance, a
man has been seen walking along a road—sudden disappearance.
Explanation—that he was not a living human being, but an apparition that
had disappeared. I have not been able to develop such data, finding, for
instance, that someone in the neighborhood had been reported missing;
but it may be that we can find material in our own field.
Upon December 10, 1881, Walter Powell and two companions ascended from
Bath in the Government balloon _Saladin_ (Valentine and Tomlinson,
_Travels in Space_, p. 227). The balloon descended at Bridport, coast of
the English Channel. Two of the aëronauts got out, but the balloon, with
Powell in it, shot upward. There was a report that the balloon had been
seen to fall in the English Channel, near Bridport, but according to
Capt. Temple, one of Powell’s companions, probably something thrown from
the balloon had been seen to fall.
A balloon is lost near or over the sea. If it should fall into the sea
it would probably float and for considerable time be a conspicuous
object; nevertheless the disappearance of a balloon last seen over the
English Channel, can not, without other circumstances, be considered
very mysterious. Now one expects to learn of reports from many places of
supposed balloons that had been seen. But the extraordinary circumstance
is that reports came in upon a luminous object that was seen in the sky
at the time that this balloon disappeared. In the London _Times_, it is
said that a luminous object had been seen, evening of the 13th, moving
in various directions in the sky near Cherbourg. It is said that upon
the night of the 16th three customhouse guards, at Laredo, Spain, had
seen something like a balloon in the sky, and had climbed a mountain in
order to see it better, but that it had shot out sparks and had
disappeared—and had been reported from Bilbao, Spain, the next day. In
the _Morning Post_, it is said that this luminous display was the chief
feature; that it was this sparkling that had made the object visible. In
the _Standard_, Dec. 16, is an account of something that was seen in the
sky, five o’clock, morning of Dec. 15, by Capt. Mc. Bain, of the
steamship _Countess of Aberdeen_, off the coast of Scotland, 25 miles
from Montrose. Through glasses, the object seemed to be a light attached
to something thought to be the car of a balloon, increasing and
decreasing in size—a large light—“as large as the light at Girdleness.”
It moved in a direction opposite to that of the wind, though possibly
with wind of an upper stratum. It was visible half an hour, and when it
finally disappeared, was moving toward Bervie, a town on the Scottish
coast about 12 miles north of Montrose. In the _Morning Post_ it is said
that the explanation is simple: that someone in Monfreith, 8 miles from
Dundee, had, late in the evening of the 15th, sent up a fire-balloon,
“which had been carried along the coast by a gentle breeze, and, after
burning all night, extinguished and collapsed off Montrose, early on
Thursday morning (16th).” This story of a balloon that wafted to
Montrose, and that was evidently traced until it collapsed near Montrose
does not so simply explain an object that was seen 25 miles from
Montrose. In the _Standard_, Dec. 19, it is said that two bright lights
were seen over Dartmouth Harbor, upon the 11th.
Walter Powell was Member of Parliament for Malmesbury, and had many
friends, some of whom started immediately to search. His relatives
offered a reward. A steamboat searched the Channel, and did not give up
until the 13th; fishing vessels kept on searching. A “sweeping
expedition” was organized, and the coast guard was doubled, searching
the shore for wreckage, but not a fragment of the balloon, nor from the
balloon, except a thermometer in a bag, was found.
In _L’Astronomie_, 1886-312, Prof. Paroisse, of the College
Bar-sur-Aube, quotes two witnesses of a _curieux phénomène_ that
occurred in a garden of the College, May, 22, 1886—cloudless sky; wind
_très faible_. Within a small circle in the garden were some baskets and
ashes and a window frame that weighed sixty kilogrammes. These things
suddenly rose from the ground. At a height of about forty feet, they
remained suspended several minutes, then falling back to the place from
which they had risen. Not a thing outside this small circle had been
touched by the seizure. The witnesses said that they had felt no
disturbance in the air.
_Scientific American_, 56-65—that in June, 1886, according to the London
_Times_, “a well-known official” was entering Pall Mall, when he felt a
violent blow on the shoulder and heard a hissing sound. There was no one
in sight except a distant policeman. At home, he found that the nap of
his coat looked as if a hot wire had been pressed against the cloth, in
a long, straight line. No missile was found, but it was thought that
something of a meteoritic nature had struck him.
Charleston _News and Courier_, Nov. 25, 1886—that, at Edina, Mo., Nov.
23, a man and his three sons were pulling corn on a farm. Nothing is
said of meteorologic conditions, and, for all I know, they may have been
pulling corn in a violent thunder storm. Something that is said to have
been lightning flashed from the sky. The man was slightly injured, one
son killed, the other seriously injured—the third had disappeared. “What
has become of him is not known, but it is supposed that he was blinded
or crazed by the shock, and wandered away.”
_Brooklyn Eagle_, March 17, 1891—that, at Wilkesbarre, Pa., March 16th,
two men were “lifted bodily and carried considerable distance in a
whirlwind.” It was a powerful force, but nothing else was affected by
it. Upon the same day, there was an occurrence in Brooklyn. In the New
York _Times_, March 17, 1891, it is said that two men, Smith Morehouse,
of Orange Co., N. Y., and William Owen, of Sussex Co., N. J., were
walking in Vanderbilt Avenue, Brooklyn, about 2 o’clock, afternoon of
the 16th, when a terrific explosion occurred close to the head of
Morehouse, injuring him and stunning Owen, the flash momentarily
blinding both. Morehouse’s face was covered with marks like
powder-marks, and his tongue was pierced. With no one else to accuse,
the police arrested Owen, but held him upon the technical charge of
intoxication. Morehouse was taken to a hospital, where a splinter of
metal, considered either brass or copper, but not a fragment of a
cartridge, was removed from his tongue. No other material could be
found, though an object of considerable size had exploded. Morehouse’s
hat had been perforated in six places by unfindable substances.
According to witnesses there had been no one within a hundred feet of
the men. One witness had seen the flash before the explosion, but could
not say whether it had been from something falling or not. In the
_Brooklyn Eagle_, March 17, 1891, it is said that neither of the men had
a weapon of any kind, and that there had been no disagreement between
them. According to a witness, they had been under observation at the
time of the explosion, her attention having been attracted by their
rustic appearance.
There is an interesting merging here of the findable and the unfindable.
I suppose that no one will suppose that someone threw a bomb at these
men. But enough substance was found to exclude the notion of “lightning
from a clear sky.” Something of a meteoritic nature seems excluded.