August, 1914—this arena-like earth, with its horizon banking high into a
Coliseum, when seen from not too far above—faint, rattling sounds of the
opening of boundaries—tawny formations slinking into the arena—their
crouchings and seizures and crunchings. Aug. 13, 1914—things that were
gathering in the sky. They were seen by G. W. Atkins, of Elstree, Herts,
and were seen again upon the 16th and the 17th (_Observatory_, 37-358).
Sept. 9, 1914—a host in the sky; watched several hours by W. H.
Steavenson (_Jour. B. A. A._, 25-27). There were round appearances, but
some of them were shaped like dumb bells. They were not seeds,
snowflakes, insects, nor anything else that they “should” have been,
according to Mr. Steavenson. He says that they were large bodies.
Oct. 10, 1914—a ship that was seen in the sky—or “an absolutely black,
spindle-shaped object” crossing the sun. It was seen, at Manchester, by
Albert Buss (_Eng. Mec._, 100-236). “Its extraordinarily clear-cut
outline was surrounded by a kind of halo, giving the impression of a
ship, plowing her way through the sea, throwing up white-foamed waves
with her prow.”
Mikkelsen (_Lost in the Arctic_, p. 345):
“During the last few days (Oct., 1914) we have been much tumbled up and
down in our minds, owing to a remarkable occurrence, somewhat in the
nature of Robinson Crusoe’s encounter with the footprints in the sand.
Our advance load has been attacked—an empty petroleum cask is found,
riddled with tiny holes, such as would be made by a charge of shot! Now
a charge of shot is scarcely likely to materialize out of nowhere; one
is accustomed to associate the phenomenon with the presence of human
beings. It is none of our doing—then whose doing is it? We hit upon the
wildest theories to account for it, as we sit in the tent, turning the
mysterious object over and over. No beast of our acquaintance could make
all those little round holes: what animal could even open its jaws so
wide? And why should anybody take the trouble to make a target of our
gear? Are there Eskimos about—Eskimos with guns? There are no footprints
to be seen: it could scarcely have been an animal—the whole thing is
highly mysterious.”
Jan 31, 1915—a symbolic-looking formation upon the moon—six or seven
white spots, in Littrow, arranged like the Greek letter _Gamma_ (_Eng.
Mec._, 101-47).
Feb. 13, 1915—Steep Island, Chusan Archipelago—a light-house-keeper
complained to Capt. W. F. Tyler, R. N., that a British warship had fired
a projectile at the lighthouse. But no vessel had fired a shot, and it
is said that the object must have been a meteor (_Nature_, 97-17).
In the middle of February, 1915, the planet Venus was about two months
and a half past inferior conjunction. If objects like navigating
constructions were seen in the sky, at this time, there may be an
association, but I am turning against that association, feeling that it
is harmful to our wider expression that extra-mundane vessels have been
seen in the sky of this earth, and that they come from regions at
present unknown. New York _Tribune_, Feb. 15, 1915—that, at 10 P. M.,
Feb. 14, three aëroplanes had been seen to cross the St. Lawrence river,
near Morristown, N. Y., according to reports, but that, in the opinion
of the Dominion police, nothing but fire-balloons had been seen. It is
said that two “responsible residents” had seen two of the objects cross
the river, between 8 and 8.30 P. M., and then return five hours later.
In the Canadian Parliament, Sir Wilfred Laurier had said that, at 9 P.
M., he had been called up by the Mayor of Brockwell, telling him that
three aëroplanes, with “powerful searchlights” had crossed the St.
Lawrence. The story is told in the New York _Herald_. Here it is said
that, according to the Chief of Police, of Ogdensburg, N. Y., a farmer,
living five miles from Ogdensburg, had reported having seen an
aëroplane, upon the 12th. Then it is said that the mystery had been
solved: that, while celebrating the one hundredth anniversary of peace
between the United States and Canada, some young men of Morristown had
sent up paper balloons, which had exploded in the sky, after 9 P. M.,
night of the 14th. New York _Times_—that the objects had been seen first
at Guananoque, Ontario. Here it is said that the balloon-story is
absurd. According to the Dominion Observatory, the wind was, at the
time, blowing from the east, and the objects had travelled toward the
northeast. It is said that one of the objects had, for several minutes,
turned a powerful searchlight upon the town of Brockwell.
Upon Dec. 11, 1915, Bernard Thomas, of Glenorchy, Tasmania, saw a
“particularly bright spot upon the moon” (_Eng. Mec._, 103-10). It was
on the north shore of the Mare Crisium, and “looked almost like a star.”
In Dr. Thomas’ opinion, it was sunlight reflected from the rim of a
small crater. The crater Picard is near the north shore of the Mare
Crisium, and most of the illuminations near Picard have occurred several
months from an opposition of Mars.
In December, 1915, another new formation upon the moon—reported from the
Observatory of Paris—something like a black wall from the center to the
ramparts of Aristillus (_Bull. Soc. Astro. de France_, 30-383).
Jan. 12, 1916—a shock in Cincinnati, Ohio. Buildings were shaken. The
quake was from an explosion in the sky. Flashes were seen in the sky.
(New York _Herald_, Jan. 13, 1916).
Feb. 9, 1916—opposition of Mars.
In the _English Mechanic_, 104-71, James Ferguson writes that someone
had seen, at 11 o’clock, night of July 31, 1916, at Ballinasloe,
Ireland, just such a moving thing, or just such a sailing, exploring
thing as is now familiar in our records. For fifteen minutes it moved in
a northwesterly direction. For three quarters of an hour it was
stationary. Then it moved back to the point where first it had been
seen, remaining visible until four o’clock in the morning. Whatever this
object may have been, it left the sky at about the time that Venus
appeared, as a “morning star,” in the sky at Ballinasloe, and resembles
the occurrence of Sept 11, 1852, reported by Lord Wrottesley. Inferior
conjunction of Venus was upon July 3, 1916. We have noticed that all
occurrences that we somewhat reluctantly associate with nearness of
Venus associate more with times of greatest brilliance, five weeks
before and after inferior conjunction, than with dates of conjunction.
Somebody may demonstrate that at these times Venus comes closest to this
earth.
Oct. 10, 1916—a reddish shadow that spread over part of the lunar crater
Plato; reported from the Observatory of Florence, Italy (_Sci. Amer._,
121-181).
Nov. 25, 1916—about twenty-five bright flashes, in rapid succession, in
the sky of Cardiff, Wales, according to Arthur Mee (_Eng. Mec._,
104-239).
Col. Markwick writes, in the _Jour. B. A. A._, 27-188, that, at 6.10 P.
M., April 15, 1917, he had seen, upon the sun, a solitary spot,
different from all sunspots that he had seen in an experience of
forty-three years. Col. Markwick had written to Mr. Maunder, of the
Greenwich Observatory, and had been told that, in photographs taken of
the sun upon this day, one at 11.17 and another at 11.20 o’clock, there
was no sign of a sunspot.
July 4, 1917—an eclipse of the sun, and an extraordinary luminous object
said to have been a meteor, in France (_Bull. Soc. Astro, de France_,
31-299). About 6.20 P. M., this day, there was an explosion over the
town of Colby, Wisconsin, and a stone fell from the sky (_Science_,
Sept. 14, 1917).
Aug. 29, 1917—a luminous object that was seen moving upon the moon
(_Bull. Soc. Astro. de France_, 31-439).
Feb. 21, 1919—an intensely black line extending out from the lunar
crater Lexall (_Eng. Mec._, 109-517).
Upon May 19, 1919, while Harry Hawker was at sea, untraceable messages,
meaningless in the languages of this earth, were picked up by wireless,
according to dispatches to the newspapers. They were interpreted as the
letters _K U J_ and _V K A J_.
In October, 1913, occurred something that may not be so very mysterious
because of nearness to the sea. One supposes that if extra-mundane
vessels have sometimes come close to this earth, then sailing away,
terrestrial aëronauts may have occasionally left this earth, or may have
been seized and carried away from this earth. Upon the morning of Oct.
13, 1913, Albert Jewel started to fly in his aëroplane from Hempstead
Plains, Long Island, to Staten Island. The route that he expected to
take was over Jamaica Bay, Brooklyn, Coney Island, and the Narrows. New
York _Times_, Oct. 14, 1913—“That was the last seen or heard of him ...
he has been as completely lost as if he had evaporated into air.” But as
to the disappearance of Capt. James there are circumstances that do call
for especial attention. New York _Times_, June 2, 1919—that Capt.
Mansell R. James was lost somewhere in the Berkshire Hills, upon his
flight from Boston to Atlantic City, or, rather, upon the part of his
route between Lee, Mass., and Mitchel Field, Long Island. He had left
Lee upon May 29th. Over the Berkshires, or in the Berkshires, he had
disappeared. According to later dispatches, searching parties had
“scoured” the Berkshires, without finding a trace of him. Upon June 4th,
army planes arrived and searched systematically. There was general
excitement, in this mystery of Capt. James. Rewards were offered; all
subscribers of the Southern New England Telephone Company were enlisted
in a quest for news of any kind; boy scouts turned out. Up to this date
of writing there has been nothing but a confusion of newspaper
dispatches: that two children had seen a plane, about thirteen miles
north of Long Island Sound; that two men had seen a plane fall into the
Hudson River, near Poughkeepsie; that, in a gully of Mount Riga, near
Millerstown, N. Y., had been found the remains of a plane; that part of
a plane had been washed ashore from Long Island Sound, near Branford.
The latest interest in the subject that I know of was in the summer of
1921. A heavy object was known to be at the bottom of the Hudson River,
near Poughkeepsie, and was thought to be Capt. James’ plane. It was
dredged up and found to be a log.
For an extraordinary story of windows, in Newark, N. J., that were
perforated by unfindable bullets, see New York _Evening Telegram_, Sept.
19, 1919, and the Newark _Evening News_. The occurrence is a counterpart
of Mikkelsen’s experience.
The detonations at Reading were heard seven years apart. Here it is not
quite seven years later. London _Times_, Sept. 26, 1919—that upon Sept.
25, a shock had been felt at Reading; that inquiries had led to
information of no known explosion near Reading. In the _Times_, Oct. 14,
Mr. H. L. Hawkins writes that the shock was “quite definitely an
earthquake, but its origin was superficial” and that the shock “was
transmitted through the earth more than through the air.” In the London
_Daily Chronicle_, Sept. 27, Mr. Hawkins, having considered all
suggestions that the shock was a subterranean earthquake, had written:
“However, as the whole thing terminated in a bump and a big bang,
without subsequent shaking of the ground, it points more to an explosion
of a natural type up in the air than to a real earthquake.” And, in the
London _Daily Mail_, Mr. Hawkins is quoted: that if the detonation were
local, he would believe that it was an aërial explosion (“meteoric”);
but, if it were widespread, it would be considered an earthquake. And in
the whole series of the Reading phenomena, this violent detonation was
most distinctly local to Reading.
Reading _Observer_, Sept. 27, 1919—“The most probable explanation of the
occurrence is that there was an explosion somewhere near enough to
affect the town.... Officials at the Greenwich Observatory were unable
to throw any light on the matter, and said that their instruments showed
no signs of earth-disturbance.”
It is said that the sound and shock were violent, and that, in the
residential parts of Reading, the streets were crowded with persons
discussing the occurrence.
There was a similar shock in Michigan, Nov. 27, 1919. In many cities,
persons rushed from their homes, thinking that there had been an
earthquake (New York _Times_, Nov. 28). But, in Indiana, Illinois, and
Michigan, a “blinding glare” was seen in the sky. Our acceptance is that
this occurrence is, upon a small scale, of the type of many catastrophes
in Italy and South America, for instance, when just such “blinding
glares” have been seen in the sky, data of which have been suppressed by
conventional scientists, or data of which have not impressed
conventional scientists.
_English Mechanic_, 110-257—J. W. Scholes, of Huddersfield, writes that,
upon Dec. 19, 1919, he saw, near the lunar crater Littrow, “a very
conspicuous black-ink mark.” Upon page 282, W. J. West, of Gosport,
writes that he had seen the mark upon the 7th of December.
March 22, 1920—a light in the sky of this earth, and an illumination
upon the moon (_Eng. Mec._, 111-142). That so close to this earth is the
moon that illuminations known as “auroral” often affect both this earth
and the moon.
July 20 and 21, and Sept. 13, 1920—dull rumbling sounds and quakes at
Comrie, Perthshire (London _Times_, July 23 and Sept. 14, 1920).
According to a dispatch to the Los Angeles _Times_—clipping sent to me
by Mr. L. A. Hopkins, of Chicago—thunder and lightning and heavy rain,
at Portland, Oregon, July 21, 1920: objects falling from the sky;
glistening, white fragments that looked like “bits of polished china.”
“The explanation of the local Weather Bureau is that they may have been
picked up by a whirlwind and carried to the district where they were
found.” The objection to this standardized explanation is the
homogeneousness of the falling objects. How can one conceive of winds
raging over some region covered with the usual great diversity of loose
objects and substances, having a liking for little white stones, sorting
over maybe a million black ones, green ones, white ones, and red ones,
to make the desired selection? One supposes that a storm brought to this
earth fragments of a manufactured object, made of something like china,
from some other world.
In the _Literary Digest_, Sept. 2, 1921, is published a letter from Carl
G. Gowman, of Detroit, Michigan, upon the fall from the sky, in
southwest China, Nov. 17 (1920?) of a substance that resembled blood. It
fell upon three villages close together, and was said to have fallen
somewhere else forty miles away. The quantity was great: in one of the
villages, the substance “covered the ground completely.” Mr. Gowman
accepts that this substance did fall from the sky, because it was found
upon roofs as well as upon the ground. He rejects the conventional
red-dust explanation, because the spots did not dissolve in several
subsequent rains. He says that anything like pollen is out of the
question, because at the time nothing was in bloom.
Nov. 23, 1920—a correspondent writes, to the _English Mechanic_,
112-214, that he saw a shaft of light projecting from the moon, or a
spot so bright that it appeared to project, from the limb of the moon,
in the region of Funerius.
About Jan. 1, 1921—several irregular, black objects that crossed the
sun. To the Rev. William Ellison (_Eng. Mec._, 112-276) they looked like
pieces of burnt paper.
July 25, 1921—a loud report, followed by a sharp tremor, and a rumbling
sound, at Comrie (London _Times_, July 27, 1921).
July 31, 1921—a common indication of other lands from which come objects
and substances to this earth—but our reluctance to bother with anything
so ordinarily marvellous—
Because we have conceived of intenser times and furies of differences of
potential between this earth and other worlds: torrents of dinosaurs, in
broad volumes that were streaked with lesser animals, pouring from the
sky, with a foam of tusks and fangs, enveloped in a bloody vapor that
was falsely dramatized by the sun, with rainbow-mockery. Or, in terms of
planetary emotions, such an outpouring was the serenade of some other
world to this earth. If poetry is imagery, and, if a flow of images be
solid poetry, such a recitation was in three-dimensional hyperbole that
was probably seen, or overheard, and criticized in Mars, and condemned
for its extravagance in Jupiter. Some other world, meeting this earth,
ransacking his solid imagination and uttering her living metaphors:
singing a flood of mastodons, purring her butterflies, bellowing an
ardor of buffaloes. Sailing away—sneaking up close to the planet Venus,
murmuring her antelopes, or arching his periphery and spitting horses at
her—
Poor, degenerate times—nowadays something comes close to this earth and
lisps little commonplaces to her—
July 31, 1921—a shower of little frogs that fell upon Anton Wagner’s
farm, near Stirling, Conn. (New York _Evening World_, Aug. 1, 1921).
At sunset, Aug. 7, 1921, an unknown luminous object was seen, near the
sun, at Mt. Hamilton, by an astronomer, Prof. Campbell, and by one of
those who may some day go out and set foot upon regions that are
supposed not to be: by an aviator, Capt. Rickenbacker. In the English
Mechanic, 114-211, another character in these fluttering vistas of the
opening of the coming drama of Extra-geography, Col. Markwick, a
conventional astronomer and also a recorder of strange things, lists
other observations upon this object, the earliest upon the 6th, by Dr.
Emmert, of Detroit. In the _English Mechanic_, 114-241, H. P. Hollis,
once upon a time deliciously “exact” and positive, says something, in
commenting upon these observations, that looks like a little weakness in
Exclusionism, because the old sureness is turning slightly shaky—“that
there are more wonderful things in the sky than we suspect, or that it
is easy to be self-deceived.”
It is funny to read of an “earthquake,” described in technical lingo,
and to have a datum that indicates that it was no earthquake at all, in
the usual seismologic sense, but a concussion from an explosion in the
sky. Aug. 7, 1921—a severe shock at New Canton, Virginia. See _Bull.
Seis. Soc. Amer._, 11-197—Prof. Stephen Taber’s explanation that the
shock had probably originated in the slate belt of Buckingham County,
intensity about _V_ on the _R.-F._ scale. But then it is said that,
according to the “authorities” of the McCormick Observatory, the
concussion was from an explosion in the sky. The time is coming when
nothing funny will be seen in this subject, if some day be accepted at
least parts of the masses of data that I am now holding back, until I
can more fully develop them—that some of the greatest catastrophes that
have devastated the face of this earth have been concussions from
explosions in the sky, so repeating in a local sky weeks at a time,
months sometimes, or intermittently for centuries, that fixed origins
above the ravaged areas are indicated.
New York _Tribune_, Sept. 2, 1921:
“J. C. H. Macbeth, London Manager of the Marconi Wireless Telegraph
Company, Ltd., told several hundred men, at a luncheon of the Rotary
Club, of New York, yesterday, that Signor Marconi believed he had
intercepted messages from Mars, during recent atmospheric experiments
with wireless on board his yacht _Electra_, in the Mediterranean. Mr.
Macbeth said that Signor Marconi had been unable to conceive of any
other explanation of the fact that, during his experiments he had picked
up magnetic wave-lengths of 150,000 metres, whereas the maximum length
of wave-production in the world today is 14,000 metres. The regularity
of the signals, Mr. Macbeth declared, disposed of any assumption that
the waves might have been caused by electrical disturbance. The signals
were unintelligible, consisting apparently of a code, the speaker said,
and the only signal recognized was one resembling the letter V in the
Marconi code.” See datum of May 19, 1919.
But, in the summer of 1921, the planet Mars was far from opposition. The
magnetic vibrations may have come from some other world. They may have
had the origin of the sounds that have been heard at regular intervals—