A female demon of the night who supposedly flies around searching for newborn children either to kidnap or strangle them. Also, she sleeps with men to seduce them into propagating demon sons. Legends told about Lilith are ancient. The rabbinical myths of Lilith being Adam's first wife seem to relate to the Sumero-Babylonian Goddess Belit-ili, or Belili. To the Canaanites, Lilith was Baalat, the "Divine Lady." On a tablet from Ur, ca. 2000 BCE, she was addressed as Lillake.
One story is that God created Adam and Lilith as twins joined together at the back. She demanded equality with Adam, failing to achieve it, she left him in anger. This is sometimes accompanied by a Muslim legend that after leaving Adam Lilith slept with Satan, thus creating the demonic Djinn.
In another version of the myth of Lilith, she was Adam's first wife before Eve. Adam married her because he became tired of coupling with animals, a common Middle-Eastern herdsmen practice, though the Old Testament declared it a sin (Deuteronomy 27:21). Adam tried to make Lilith lie beneath him during sexual intercourse. Lilith would not meet this demand of male dominance. She cursed Adam and hurried to her home by the Red Sea.
Adam complained to God who then sent three angels, Sanvi, Sansanvi and Semangelaf, to bring Lilith back to Eden. Lilith rebuffed the angels by cursing them. While by the Red Sea Lilith became a lover to demons and producing 100 babies a day. The angels said that God would take these demon children away from her unless she returned to Adam. When she did not return, she was punished accordingly. And, God also gave Adam the docile Eve.
According to some Lilith's fecundity and sexual preferences showed she was a Great Mother of settled agricultural tribes, who resisted the invasions of the nomadic herdsmen, represented by Adam. It is felt the early Hebrews disliked the Great Mother who drank the blood of Abel, the herdsman, after being slain by the elder god of agriculture and smithcraft, Cain (Genesis 4:11). Lilith's Red Sea is but another version of Kali Ma's Ocean of Blood, which gave birth to all things but needed periodic sacrificial replenishment.
Speculation is that perhaps there was a connection between Lilith and the Etruscan divinity Lenith, who possessed no face and waited at the gate of the underworld along with Eita and Persipnei (Hecate and Persephone) to receive the souls of the dead. The underworld gate was a yoni, and also a lily, which had "no face." Admission into the underworld was frequently mythologized as a sexual union. (see Tantrism) The lily or lilu (lotus) was the Great Mother's flower-yoni, whose title formed Lilith's name.
Even though the story of Lilith disappeared from the canonical Bible, her daughters the lilim haunted men for over a thousand years. It was well into that Middle Ages that Jews still manufactured amulets to keep away the lilim. Supposedly they were lusty she-demons who copulated with men in all their dreams, causing nocturnal emissions.
The Greeks adopted the belief of the lilim, calling them Lamiae, Empusae (Forcers-In), or Daughters of Hecate. Likewise the Christians adopted the belief, calling them harlots of hell, or succubi, the counterpart of the incubi. Celebrant monks attempted to fend them off by sleeping with their hands over their genitals, clutching a crucifix.
Even though most of the Lilith legend is derived from Jewish folklore, descriptions of the Lilith demon appear in Iranian, Babylonian, Mexican, Greek, Arab, English, German, Oriental and Native American legends. Also, she sometimes has been associated with legendary and mythological characters such as the Queen of Sheba and Helen of Troy. In medieval Europe she was proclaimed to be the wife, concubine or grandmother of Satan.
Men who experienced nocturnal emissions during their sleep believed they had been seduced by Lilith and said certain incantations to prevent the offspring from becoming demons. It was thought each time a pious Christian had a wet dream, Lilith laughed. It was believed that Lilith was assisted in her bloodthirsty nocturnal quests by succubi, who gathered with her near the "mountains of darkness" to frolic with her demon lover Samael, whole name means "poison of God" (sam-el). The Zohar, the principal work of the Kabbalah, describes Lilith's powers at their height during the waning of the moon.
According to legend Lilith's attraction for children comes from the belief that God took her demon children from her when she did not return to Adam. It was believed that she launched a reign of terror against women in childbirth and newborn infants, especially boys. However, it also was believed that the three angels who were sent to fetch her by the Red Sea forced her to swear that whenever she saw their names or images on amulets that she would leave the infants and mothers alone.
These beliefs continued for centuries. As late as the 18th century, it was a common practice in many cultures to protect new mothers and their infants with amulets against Lilith. Males were most vulnerable during the first week of life, girls during the first three weeks. Sometimes a magic circle was drawn around the lying-in-bed, with a charm inscribed with the names of the three angels, Adam and Eve and the words "barring Lilith" or "protect this newborn child from all harm." Frequently amulets were place in the four corners and throughout the bedchamber. If a child laughed while sleeping, it was taken as a sign that Lilith was present. Tapping the child on the nose, it was believed, made her go away.
EARLY YEARS (1560-1575)
Nyírbátor served as the Báthory family seat, an
administrative center, and family burial site. In fact, the
Báthory family owned the town from the time of its
Gutkeled ancestors in the late 1200's until the death of
Gábor Báthory, Voivod of Transylvania, in 1613.
Erzsébet's parents came from two separate branches of
the Báthory clan--György (c. 1522-1570) from the Ecsed
branch, and Anna (m. 1539 - c.1574) from the older
Somlyó side of the family. Erzsébet had an older brother,
István (1555-1605), a brother, Gábor (unfortunately, we
have no dates of birth or death for him, or whether he
was married or not--only his name, according to 19th
century genealogist, Alexander v. Simolin), and two
younger sisters, Zsofiá and Klara. Unfortunately, we do
not know very much about her younger sisters, except
that both Klara and Zsofiá married what might be called
"middle-class" noblemen. Klara married Mihály Várdai,
and Zsofiá married András Figedy and had at least two
children, István and Borbála.
From the top: woodcut of the Báthory
family estate at Ecsed; Erzsébet's uncle,
István Báthory, King of Poland
From the top: portrait of
Orsolya Kanizsai Nádasdy,
Erzsébet's mother-in-law;
belof Erzsébet's father-in-law,
Tamas Nádasdy,
THE FATE OF COUNTESS BÁTHORY (1611-1614)
Back at Castle Csejthe, still under house arrest, Countess Báthory embarked on a letter writing campaign
to free performance of her life: namely, testifying to her own innocence. György Thurzó repeatedly denied
her petitions to appear on her own behalf. She, in turn, accused him of not defending her honor.
At Thurzó's repeated urgings, the king finally conceded: Countess Báthory would not be brought to public
trial. Thurzó immediately brokered a clever deal: in light of the evidence, he recommended his original
sentence of perpetuis carceribus (life imprisonment) rather than the death penalty. By order of
Parliament, the name of Erzsébet Báthory would never again be spoken in polite society.
Stonemasons arrived shortly thereafter to carry out her final sentence: she was never to be let out of
confinement. On the night of Sunday, August 21, 1614, Countess Erzsébet Báthory was concerned about
her poor circulation. She told her bodyguard, "Look, how cold my hands are!" Her attendant told her that
it was nothing and that she should simply lie down. With that, she put her pillow under her legs.
Commentators say that she passed away at two hours after midnight, but a letter from Stanislav Thurzó
to his cousin, György, states that she was found dead in the morning.
According to a servant of her son, Pál Nádasdy, Erzsébet was buried at the church in Csejthe on
November 25, 1614. Her remains were supposedly taken back to the Báthory family estate in 1617.
Where she lies today, however, is something of a mystery: J. Branecky reported that on July 7, 1938, the
crypt at the Csejthe church was opened but that the Countess' grave was not found. It is also claimed
that in 1995, the Báthory family crypts at Nyírbátor were also opened. No remains of the Countess were
found at that site, either.
Sixty years ago the most terrible killer ever to roam London's streets came to a chill end in the Thames - or so the world was told. But that report was a hoax, deliberately engineered by the London Police.
ALMOST sixty years have passed since the unsolved "Jack the Ripper" murders invoked the horror of people everywhere.
These atrocious crimes, over a period of months, were committed in the infamous East End of London . . . the heart of the most populous city on earth . . . in defiance of every conceivable precaution taken by the C.I.D. (Criminal Investigation Department) of Scotland Yard, and the assistance of special police and citizen patrols spread throughout the district.
It was in autumn of 1888 that the first of these murders was committed, and as others of a like nature soon followed without a clue as to the identity of the killer, it became apparent that a Master Criminal was at large. His victims were always poor, miserable women of the streets, friendless prostitutes, who were stabbed to death and then horribly ripped and mutilated by what appeared to be surgical knives of extreme sharpness.
After the second of these murders the public took alarm, and a dread of this mysterious Terror who killed swiftly and without warning by night, spread throughout London. Lonely women wayfarers, abroad when darkness came, hurried through the streets, terrified with the premonition that the notorious murderer was dogging their footsteps.
The newspapers fanned the fearful anxiety of the public with sensational headlines and minute details of the horrible and gruesome crimes. Popular resentment against the ineffectiveness of the police to deal with this killer ran high. The C.I.D. took particularly caustic criticism leveled at it from all quarters.
At the height of the controversy, the London Police Commissioner resigned his office, and the frenzied hunt for the murderer became totally disorganized. The killings ascribed to "Jack the Ripper" - so named from the signature of one of the bogus letters published by the police - continued without respite during 1888, but no arrests were made.
In blaming the detective police of this time, it must be remembered that as compared to forces in other countries, English authorities worked under the severe handicap of not being allowed to arrest on suspicion or question the man they suspected. They first needed to be in possession of the guilt of their man. And this evidence they were never able to acquire.
In only one instance did a policeman have sight of the fiendish criminal. A young officer, named Thompson, was patrolling Chambers Street one evening when a man came running out of Swallow Gardens toward him. Upon seeing the police uniform the man turned tail and headed off in the opposite direction.
An experienced officer would have pursued the suspect, but Thompson turned into Swallow Gardens . . . and almost stumbled over the mutilated body of Frances Coles.
The error of his judgment preyed on the young officer's mind. He seemed to consider it the first episode of an unfortunate career . . . and his forboding eventually came true. The first time he had gone on night duty he had discovered a murder by stabbing . . . and some years later he himself was stabbed to death by a man named Abrahams. The jury returned a verdict of manslaughter in his killing, and Abrahams died in prison.
There were many sensational sidelights during this period of fear and unrest on the part of the public. A practical joker, at midnight, in a secluded street in Whitechapel, accosted a woman and yelled, "I'm Jack the Ripper!" He was immediately set upon, and knocked about by indignant bystanders. Luckily two constables arrived at the scene to rescue him from death at the hands of the angry mob.
At another time a Liverpool mail-steamer was held up from sailing for several hours, while the police searched her from stem to stern for a sailor who had produced a huge knife in a low tavern at that seaport, and boasted that he was the notorious Jack the Ripper. The police were compelled to follow every clue, however seemingly ridiculous the "information" sifting into its intelligence headquarters . . . for they had so few known "facts" from the actual scene of the crimes to work from.
But the murderer, who operated alone, at night, in lonely places, escaped detection. His very boldness and familiarity with the district in which he "operated", thoroughly outwitted his would-be captors. The mystery of his identity was intensified when it became known at the coroner's inquests that medical experts had certified that the perpetrator of these murders had considerable anatomical knowledge and skill, and more than likely was either "a butcher, an advanced medical student, or a doctor."
Many pathetic scenes were enacted in the dim Police Court where the inquests were held. Of one woman victim it was said that she was repulsed by the custodian of a doss house because she had not the necessary fee for a bed. "All right, dearie, I'll soon get it ! Look at my new bonnet, ain't it a beauty. I'll soon be back." She was discovered an hour later, stabbed and mutilated, in a nearby alley.
In a newspaper controversy by criminologists and others, it was claimed that Jack the Ripper was either a homicidal or religious maniac . or that his impelling urge was one of revenge.
After the last of these murders, the police had brought their investigation to the point of suspecting one or another of three homicidal lunatics. One was a Polish Nationalist reported by Police Constable Thompson, the only officer who had caught sight of the murderer.
The second was an insane Russian doctor who had been a convict both in England and in Siberia. This man was reported to be in the habit of carrying surgical knives in his pockets. At the time of the outrages. he was in hiding; at any rate he could not be found,
The third suspect was also a doctor, of prominent and impeccable reputation, living on the West Side of London, whose mind was "cracking up" and on the borderland of insanity. It is with this individual, the real Jack the Ripper murderer, that our story deals.
According to the files of Scotland Yard, after the last of the Jack the Ripper murders in Miller's Court on November 9th, 1888, this man disappeared . . . and seven weeks later his body was found floating in the Thames. The medical evidence was that it had been in the water for a month, With his death, the mutilation-murders, ceased as abruptly as they started, and as far as generally known, the criminal responsible for these bizarre slayings was never apprehended. But the crime was solved, and by the police !
The "inside story" of how this notorious murderer was "clairvoyantly" traced and finally arrested was first published by the "London Daily Express," and later incorporated into a book edited by Charles Neil, entitled "World's Greatest Mysteries." The remarkable information this volume contained has never been refuted, incredible as it may appear.
In his book Neil states that "a dozen London physicians, who sat as a court of medical inquiry, or a commission in lunacy, definitely proved that the dreaded Jack the Ripper was no less a person than a physician of high standing, living in the West End of London. When it was absolutely proved that the physician in question was the murderer, and his insanity fully established by the commission, all parties having a knowledge of the facts were sworn to secrecy."
The document, disclosing the details of the case, was placed in the hands of the "London Daily Express" soon after the death of the "clairvoyant," Dr. R. J. Lees, who led the police to a solution of the crimes. Dr. Lees dictated the document in question, and issued instructions that its contents should not be revealed until after his death.
The circumstances which led to the detection of this inhuman monster are incredible to the extreme . . . and altogether unparalleled in the history of crime. It is only proper that credit be given (even though posthumously) to Dr. Robert James Lees, author of "Through the Mists," as the man who (according to this report) put the London police on the track of the killer. He himself had religiously observed his promise not to divulge the identity of the Ripper.
The document states that Dr. Lees developed an extraordinary faculty for "second sight" early in life, and that it enabled him to have an "in-sight" into the nature of things hidden from the perceptions of ordinary men who have to depend entirely upon their "out-sights" for seeing things. At the age of 19, he was summoned before Queen Victoria, where he gave evidence of his unusual clairvoyant gift, "exciting her utmost wonderment."
At the time of the first three murders, Dr. Lees was at the height of his powers as a "seer". One day, while writing in his study, he suddenly became apprehensive, and in translating his feelings, he became convinced that the Ripper was about to commit another murder. He tried to shake off this premonition, but it remained with him, increasing in intensity until, as it were, an "inner eye" opened, and a scene flashed itself before his vision.
He seemed to see two persons, a man and a woman, walking down a dimly-lit side street. Following them in his mind's eye, he saw them enter a narrow court. He read the name of the court. There was a gin palace near the court, and this was ablaze with light. Inside a rowdy crowd of East Enders, the scum of London, shouted in boisterous and indecent merriment. The hands of the clock above the bar pointed to 12:40 . . . the hour at which the public houses close for the night.
As he looked, the crowd melted from the tavern. He was drawn toward the man and woman who had entered the court. The woman was half-drunk; the man perfectly sober, and intent upon an errand. In a dark corner of the court the woman leaned against a building to support her reeling senses. Suddenly the man, dressed in a dark suit of Scotch Tweed and carrying a light overcoat over his arm, hastened forward.
He put a hand over her mouth and drew her to him. She struggled feebly, but was too much under the influence of liquor to offer effective resistance. Then her days on earth were over . . . her throat slit from ear to ear. The blood spurted from her neck and onto the man's shirtfront. He held her by the waist and mouth and dropped her limp form to the ground.
With his knife already dripping with blood, he inflicted deep gashes in various parts of her body, slitting her skin and flesh with the finesse of an accomplished butcher. Then he deliberately wiped his knife clean on his victim's clothes, and sheathed it. Calmly he put on his light overcoat, buttoning it up to hide his shirtfront, and casually walked away. These are things Dr. Lees saw in "clairvoyance." He went at once to Scotland Yard to inform them of his vision.
The sergeant on duty faithfully recorded Dr. Lees' account of the murder . . . but only by way of humoring one whom he considered a harmless lunatic. It was quite a fad these days - giving one's self up as Jack the Ripper - and the psychopathic hospitals were full of would-be murderers. Also alarmists were besieging the offices of Scotland Yard with phoney information and threats of new murders.
So, in Dr. Lees' instance, the sergeant did not take the information seriously. He was half-way tempted to lock him up. But decided that he'd best take the story down, and let the man go his way thinking he had "helped the authorities" in this famous case. At any rate, the sergeant noted the hands of the imaginary tavern's clock at 12:40 when the Ripper met his victim in the court, and promptly forgot the whole affair - until the next day.
At 12:30 on the following night, a woman entered the public house near the court in question. She was quite under the influence of drink, and the bar-keeper refused to serve her. She was seen by another witness to enter the court again at 12:40 in the company of a man dressed in a dark suit and carrying a light overcoat. This was the evidence given before the deputy coroner who held an inquest on the body of a woman found "with her throat cut, and horribly mutilated," to quote from the coroner's records.
Dr. Lees was shocked when he read of the murder in the court, in the newspapers next day. To use his own language: "My whole nervous system was seriously shaken and under the advice of a physician I removed with my family to the Continent." While he was away, Jack the Ripper continued his butchering of women of low repute . . . adding four more murders to his list. It then became necessary for Dr. Lees to return to London.
One day, while riding on a bus with his wife, a man entered the vehicle. When he saw him, "every nerve in my body tingled with excitement." The stranger was dressed in a suit of dark Scotch tweed and carried a light overcoat; but he was no stranger. Leaning over to his wife, Dr. Lees whispered tensely, "That man is Jack the Ripper!"
When the bus turned into Oxford Street, the man got off. Dr. Lees was determined to follow him. About half-way up the block, he met a constable, to whom he pointed out the man, and informed him that he was the dreaded Ripper murderer. But when he asked the officer to make an arrest, the constable only looked at him and laughed. Instead he began questioning Dr. Lees, retaining him long enough for the suspect to escape.
That night Dr. Lees again received premonitions that the Ripper was on the prowl, and about to commit another murder. The scene of this outrage was not as distinct as in the former instance, but the face of the woman victim was clearly defined, A peculiarity of the mutilation was that one ear was completely severed from the face, and that the other remained hanging by a mere thread of skin.
As soon as he had recovered from his trance, Dr. Lees hastened to Scotland Yard, and insisted upon an immediate audience with the Head Inspector of Police. That official listened with a smile of incredulity to the first portion of the visitor's story. The smile, however, died away as Dr. Lees reached that portion of his narrative where he described the severed ears of the victim.
With sober deliberation the Police Inspector reached into a drawer of his desk and took out a post card. He laid it in front of Dr. Lees for his perusal. It was an ordinary post card written in red ink. But it had two finger marks traced in blood in one corner, and included the message:
"Tomorrow night I shall take my revenge from a class of women who have made themselves most obnoxious to me, my ninth victim.
Jack the Ripper.
"P.S.-: To prove that I am really Jack the Ripper, I will cut off the ears of this ninth victim."
The Inspector had at his command a force of nearly 15,000 constables. By dusk of next day no fewer than 3,000 of these, in addition to 1500 detectives, were patrolling the courts and alleys of Whitechapel. Notwithstanding all these precautions, Jack the Ripper, with infinite cunning, penetrated the cordon, slew his victim, and disappeared.
The murdered woman was found slaughtered "with one ear completely severed and the other hanging by a mere shread of flesh." At this news the Inspector turned deathly pale, and confided in Dr. Lees that he was "up a tree" in his investigations. The solution of the murders was no nearer now than at the beginning of the case, and the Inspector asked Dr. Lees to assist him.
Unfortunately the clairvoyant had business on the Continent and was not able to do so at the time. But he promised that he would come to see him upon his return. While he was abroad, the Ripper continued his evil ways and murdered his sixteenth victim . . . coolly informing the Scotland Yard authorities that he intended to kill twenty, and then stop.
Shortly after this Dr. Lees returned to England and made the acquaintance of two Americans visiting London, Roland B. Shaw and Fred C. Backwith. One evening these three gentlemen were having dinner in the Criterion when Dr. Lees suddenly turned to his companions and exclaimed: "Great God! `Jack the Ripper' has just committed another murder!"
His companions were amazed at this disclosure, and looked at Dr. Lees in askance. The "visionary" then had to tell his friends the whole story of his apparent "sensitiveness" to the Ripper while in London. Mr. Shaw checked his watch. It was 11 minutes to 8. At 10 minutes to 8 a policeman discovered the body of a woman in Crown Court, in the Whitechapel district, with her throat cut and her body bearing the cutmarks of the Ripper.
Dr. Lees and his companions went at once to Scotland Yard. The Inspector had not yet received the news of the murder, but while Dr. Lees was relating his story, a message arrived with the details of the outrage. The Inspector, taking with him two men in plain clothes, together with Dr. Lees and his two friends, drove at once to Crown Court. As they entered Dr. Lees said: "Look in the angle of the wall. There is something written there."
The Inspector, by this time, as anyone can readily imagine, was himself in a state bordering on insanity. Never in his long career as a criminal investigator had such a baffling series of murders been committed, without any clues to work from in the detection of the culprit, except the claims of a "seer" who says he has "visions" (and verifiable visions!) of the murders before they take place. Enough to drive any man mad, Especially an ordinary police officer, who likes his work "routine" and "conventional !"
It must be borne in mind here that Jack the Ripper had eluded the resourcefulness of the greatest police force in the world; that, rendered desperate at last, the authorities had summoned to their assistance the most experienced detectives of France, Germany, Holland, Italy, Spain and America. They had lavished immense sums of money in an endeavor to trace the fiend, and there was a standing aggregate reward of £30,000, together with a pension of £1500 per annum . . all to go to the man who should first deliver to justice the terrible Ripper.
The Inspector, having abandoned every known scientific means to trace the criminal, turned as a last desperate hope to Dr. Lees. It was fantastic . . . but possible (at this stage anything was possible!) . . . that this man's unusual "clairvoyant" faculty might do the incredible and discover the identity of the killer, It was evident that there did exist some subtle "magnetic" connection between the medium and the fugitive.
All that night Dr. Lees turned his mind inward to its impalpable sensitivity to Jack the Ripper, and wandered through the streets of London "like a bloodhound following hot upon a scene!" The Inspector and his aides followed a few feet behind him.
At last, at 4 o'clock in the morning, with face pale and eyes bloodshot with effort, Dr. Lees halted at the gates of a West End mansion. Gasping through cracked and swollen lips, he pointed to an upper chamber where a faint light was visible. "In that room you will find the murderer you seek!" he said.
The Inspector was visibly shaken. "Impossible," he said. "That is the residence of one of the most celebrated physicians in the West End."
It could not be. Yet the "visions" and "impressions" of this clairvoyant had been astonishingly accurate. Perhaps a test of his powers would prove or disprove the validity of his extravagant statement.
"If you will describe to me the interior of the doctor's hall," the Inspector remarked, "I will arrest him at the risk of my position."
"The hall has a rough porter's chair of black oak, on the right hand, as you enter. A stained-glass window is at the extreme end. And a large mastiff is, at this moment, asleep at the foot of the stairs," offered Dr. Lees, after a moment of deep insight.
The Inspector was reluctant to arouse the household at that ungodly hour of the morning on such flimsy evidence. So the party waited until 7 A.M., when the servants in the fashionable residence began to stir. Then they entered the house and learned that the doctor was still in bed. They requested to be allowed to see his wife.
The servant left them standing in the hall, and the Inspector called Dr. Lees' attention to the fact that there was no mastiff visible, as he had described, although, in all other respects the description tallied exactly. Upon questioning the servant as to the whereabouts of the dog, she informed the men that it generally slept at the foot of the stairs at night, and was let out into the garden in the morning. When the Inspector heard this, he exclaimed: "It is the Hand of Providence!"
In a few minutes the doctor's wife made her appearance, and after a half-hour's searching inquiry into her husband's activities, it was ascertained that the wife doubted the doctor's sanity during the past few months. There had been moments when he had reversed his usual mild and pleasant disposition, and terrorized both herself and her children at the slightest provocation. The wife also noted, with deep forboding (though she would not permit herself to reveal these suspicions to the authorities) that whenever a Whitechapel murder would occur, her husband would be absent from the house.
An hour later the Inspector had summoned to the house a group of the greatest experts on insanity in the city of London. The doctor was awakened and confronted with the accusation that he was responsible for the Ripper murders. At first the noted doctor recoiled in shock and horror at the bold statement that he was a brutal murderer. Then he shook his head in bewilderment, and his shoulders slumped in puzzlement and weariness. He admitted that his mind had acted strangely for several months, and that there were lapses of time for which he could not account . . . hours during which he was unable to recall doing anything.
That he was guilty of the Whitechapel killings, however, filled the doctor with awe and repugnance. But he would not deny the possibility of its being true. He told the physicians that occasionally he would find himself sitting in his room as if aroused from a long stupor . . without being able to remember the passing of evening. In one instance he had found blood on his shirtfront, which he couldn't account for; blood which he had finally attributed to a bloody nose during one of his "lapses" of memory.
Upon the confession of mental inaptitude, the Inspector made a thorough search of the house, and found ample proof that the famous physician was indeed Jack the Ripper. A dark Scotch tweed suit, together with a light overcoat, was found in a closet.
An exhaustive inquiry before a commission in lunacy developed the fact that the doctor was a sufferer from schizophrenia (split personality) with paranoid tendencies . . . and while, in one mind, he was a prominent and respected doctor of medicine, in the other, he was an inhuman beast, with an insatiable urge to slit the throats and mutilate the bodies of women who prostitute themselves for a price.
The new turn of events put the police in an incredible dilemma. The climax of one of the greatest manhunts in the history of Scotland Yard had culminated . . . in an anticlimax !
Circumstantial evidence all pointed to the guilt of one of London's most eminent physicians as the murderer Jack the Ripper. This doctor was adjudged insane by a committee of psychiatrists, and it was more than likely that the facts on the murders would never be clearly established.
If the accused was brought to trial for his actions, his guilt would have to be proved . . . and no one, not even the doctor himself, knew positively that he was the murderer, Then, the issue would arise whether a man could be adjudged guilty of a crime he committed while in a state of "somnambulism," or, to put it more exactly, when a "secondary personality" had possession of his body.
It would have been interesting to follow the course of reasoning presented by the opposing counsel in such a psychological case. But the trial was not to be. For the physician was removed to a private asylum where he became the most cunning and dangerous madman confined in that institution.
In order to account for the disappearance of the doctor, a sham death by drowning in the Thames, and burial were gone through, and an empty coffin (supposed to contain the mortal remains of a great West End physician whose untimely death all London mourned) was deposited in the family vault.
Back in the private mental sanitarium, none of the keepers ever knew that the desperate and violent maniac who threw himself from side to side in his padded cell, and made long night vigils at the window facing outside, emitting piercing cries of frustration, was the famous Jack the Ripper ! To them, he was simply known as "No. 124."
“Mothman”, as the strange creature came to be called, is perhaps one of the strangest creatures to ever grace the annals of weirdness in America. Even though this mysterious and unsolved case has nothing to do with ghosts, it would be remiss of me to not include it in a section of the website about the unexplained.
The weird events connected to the Mothman began on November 12, 1966 near Clendenin, West Virginia. Five men were in the local cemetery that day, preparing a grave for a burial, when something that looked like a “brown human being” lifted off from some nearby trees and flew over their heads. The men were baffled. It did not appear to be a bird, but more like a man with wings. A few days later, more sightings would take place, electrifying the entire region.
Late in the evening of November 15, two young married couples had a very strange encounter as they drove past an abandoned TNT plant near Point Pleasant, West Virginia. The couples spotted two large eyes that were attached to something that was "shaped like a man, but bigger, maybe six or seven feet tall. And it had big wings folded against its back".
When the creature moved toward the plant door, the couples panicked and sped away. Moments later, they saw the same creature on a hillside near the road. It spread its wings and rose into the air, following with their car, which by now was traveling at over 100 miles per hour. "That bird kept right up with us," said one of the group. They told Deputy Sheriff Millard Halstead that it followed them down Highway 62 and right to the Point Pleasant city limits. And they would not be the only ones to report the creature that night. Another group of four witnesses claimed to see the “bird” three different times!
Mothman
(Artist - Cathy Wilkins)
Another sighting had more bizarre results. At about 10:30 on that same evening, Newell Partridge, a local building contractor who lived in Salem (about 90 miles from Point Pleasant), was watching television when the screen suddenly went dark. He stated that a weird pattern filled the screen and then he heard a loud, whining sounds from outside that raised in pitch and then ceased. “It sounded like a generator winding up” he later stated. Partridge’s dog, Bandit, began to howl out on the front porch and Newell went out to see what was going on.
When he walked outside, he saw Bandit facing the hay barn, about 150 yards from the house. Puzzled, Partridge turned a flashlight in that direction and spotted two red circles that looked like eyes or “bicycle reflectors”. They moving red orbs were certainly not animal’s eyes, he believed, and the sight of them frightened him. Bandit, an experienced hunting dog and protective of his territory, shot off across the yard in pursuit of the glowing eyes. Partridge called for him to stop, but the animal paid no attention. His owner turned and went back into the house for his gun, but then was too scared to go back outside again. He slept that night with his gun propped up next to the bed. The next morning, he realized that Bandit had disappeared. The dog had still not shown up two days later when Partridge read in the newspaper about the sightings in Point Pleasant that night.
The Silver Bridge
One statement that he read in the newspaper chilled him to the bone. Roger Scarberry, one member of the group who spotted the strange “bird” at the TNT plant, said that as they entered the city limits of Point Pleasant, they saw the body of a large dog lying on the side of the road. A few minutes later, on the way back out of town, the dog was gone. They even stopped to look for the body, knowing they had passed it just a few minutes before. Newell Partridge immediately thought of Bandit, who was never seen again.
On November 16, a press conference was held in the county courthouse and the couples from the TNT plant sighting repeated their story. Deputy Halstead, who had known the couples all of their lives, took them very seriously. “They’ve never been in any trouble,” he told investigators and had no reason to doubt their stories. Many of the reporters who were present for the weird recounting felt the same way. The news of the strange sightings spread around the world. The press dubbed the odd flying creature “Mothman”, after a character from the popular Batman television series of the day.
The remote and abandoned TNT plant became the lair of the Mothman in the months ahead and it could not have picked a better place to hide in. The area was made up of several hundred acres of woods and large concrete domes where high explosives were stored during World War II. A network of tunnels honeycombed the area and made it possible for the creature to move about without being seen. In addition to the manmade labyrinth, the area was also comprised of the McClintic Wildlife Station, a heavily forested animal preserve filled with woods, artificial ponds and steep ridges and hills. Much of the property was almost inaccessible and without a doubt, Mothman could have hid for weeks or months and remained totally unseen. The only people who ever wandered there were hunters and fishermen and the local teenagers, who used the rutted dirt roads of the preserve as “lover’s lanes”.
Very few homes could be found in the region, but one dwelling belonged to the Ralph Thomas family. One November 16, they spotted a “funny red light” in the sky that moved and hovered above the TNT plant. “It wasn’t an airplane”, Mrs. Marcella Bennett (a friend of the Thomas family) said, “but we couldn’t figure out what it was.” Mrs. Bennett drove to the Thomas house a few minutes later and got out of the car with her baby. Suddenly, a figure stirred near the automobile. “It seemed as though it had been lying down,” she later recalled. “It rose up slowly from the ground. A big gray thing. Bigger than a man with terrible glowing eyes.”
Mrs. Bennett was so horrified that she dropped her little girl! She quickly recovered, picked up her child and ran to the house. The family locked everyone inside but hysteria gripped them as the creature shuffled onto the porch and peered into the windows. The police were summoned, but the Mothman had vanished by the time the authorities had arrived.
Mrs. Bennett would not recover from the incident for months and was in fact so distraught that she sought medical attention to deal with her anxieties. She was tormented by frightening dreams and later told investigators that she believed the creature had visited her own home too. She said that she could often hear a keening sounds (like a woman screaming) near her isolated home on the edge of Point Pleasant.
Many would come to believe that the sightings of Mothman, as well as UFO sightings and encounters with “men in black” in the area, were all related. For nearly a year, strange happenings continued in the area. Researchers, investigators and “monster hunters” descended on the area but none so famous as author John Keel, who has written extensively about Mothman and other unexplained anomalies. He has written for many years about UFO’s but dismisses the standard “extraterrestrial” theories of the mainstream UFO movement. For this reason, he has been a controversial figure for decades. According to Keel, man has had a long history of interaction with the supernatural. He believes that the intervention of mysterious strangers in the lives of historic personages like Thomas Jefferson and Malcolm X provides evidence of the continuing presence of the “gods of old”. The manifestation of these elder gods comes in the form of UFO’s and aliens, monsters, demons, angels and even ghosts. He has remained a colorful character to many and yet remains respected in the field for his research and fascinating writings.
Keel became the major chronicler of the Mothman case and wrote that at least 100 people personally witnessed the creature between November 1966 and November 1967. According to their reports, the creature stood between five and seven feet tall, was wider than a man and shuffled on human-like legs. Its eyes were set near the top of the shoulders and had bat-like wings that glided, rather than flapped, when it flew. Strangely though, it was able to ascend straight up “like a helicopter”. Witnesses also described its murky skin as being either gray or brown and it emitted a humming sound when it flew. The Mothman was apparently incapable of speech and gave off a screeching sound. Mrs. Bennett stated that it sounded like a “woman screaming”.
John Keel arrived in Point Pleasant in December 1966 and immediately began collecting reports of Mothman sightings and even UFO reports from before the creature was seen. He also compiled evidence that suggested a problem with televisions and phones that began in the fall of 1966. Lights had been seen in the skies, particularly around the TNT plant, and cars that passed along the nearby road sometimes stalled without explanation. He and his fellow researchers also uncovered a number of short-lived poltergeist cases in the Ohio Valley area. Locked doors opened and closed by themselves, strange thumps were heard inside and outside of homes and often, inexplicable voices were heard. The James Lilley family, who lived just south of the TNT plant, were so bothered by the bizarre events that they finally sold their home and moved to another neighborhood. Keel was convinced that the intense period of activity was all connected.
And stranger things still took place..... A reporter named Mary Hyre, who was the Point Pleasant correspondent for the Athens, Ohio newspaper the Messenger, also wrote extensively about the local sightings. In fact, after one very active weekend, she was deluged with over 500 phone calls from people who saw strange lights in the skies. One night in January 1967, she was working late in her office in the county courthouse and a man walked in the door. He was very short and had strange eyes that were covered with thick glasses. He also had long, black hair that was cut squarely “like a bowl haircut”. Hyre said that he spoke in a low, halting voice and he asked for directions to Welsh, West Virginia. She thought that he had some sort of speech impediment and for some reason, he terrified her. “He kept getting closer and closer to me, “ she said, “ and his funny eyes were staring at me almost hypnotically.”
Alarmed, she summoned the newspaper’s circulation manager to her office and together, they spoke to the strange little man. She said that at one point in the discussion, she answered the telephone when it rang and she noticed the little man pick up a pen from her desk. He looked at it in amazement, “as if he had never seen a pen before.” Then, he grabbed the pen, laughed loudly and ran out of the building.
Several weeks later, Hyre was crossing the street near her office and saw the same man on the street. He appeared to be startled when he realized that she was watching him, turned away quickly and ran for a large black car that suddenly came around the corner. The little man climbed in and it quickly drove away.
By this time, most of the sightings had come to an end and Mothman had faded away into the strange “twilight zone” from which he had come... but the story of Point Pleasant had not yet ended. At around 5:00 in the evening on December 15, 1967, the 700-foot bridge linking Point Pleasant to Ohio suddenly collapsed while filled with rush hour traffic. Dozens of vehicles plunged into the dark waters of the Ohio River and 46 people were killed. Two of those were never found and the other 44 are buried together in the town cemetery of Gallipolis, Ohio.
On that same tragic night, the James Lilley family (who still lived near the TNT plant at that time) counted more than 12 eerie lights that flashed above their home and vanished into the forest.
The collapse of the Silver Bridge made headlines all over the country and Mary Hyre went days without sleep as reporters and television crews from everywhere descended on the town. The local citizens were stunned with horror and disbelief and the tragedy is still being felt today.
During Christmas week, a short, dark-skinned man entered the office of Mary Hyre. He was dressed in a black suit, with a black tie, and she said that he looked vaguely Oriental. He had high cheekbones, narrow eyes and an unidentified accent. He was not interested in the bridge disaster, she said, but wanted to know about local UFO sightings. Hyre was too busy to talk with him and she handed her a file of related press clipping instead. He was not interested in them and insisted on speaking with her. She finally dismissed him from her office.
That same night, an identically described man visited the homes of several witnesses in the area who had reported seeing the lights in the sky. He made all of them very uneasy and uncomfortable and while he claimed to be a reporter from Cambridge, Ohio, he inadvertently admitted that he did not know where Columbus, Ohio was even though the two towns are just a few miles apart.
So who was Mothman and what was behind the strange events in Point Pleasant?
Whatever the creature may have been, it seems clear that Mothman was no hoax. There were simply too many credible witnesses who saw “something”. It was suggested at the time that the creature may have been a sandhill crane, which while they are not native to the area, could have migrated south from Canada. That was one explanation anyway, although it was one that was rejected by Mothman witnesses, who stated that what they saw looked nothing like a crane.
But there could have been a logical explanation for some of the sightings. Even John Keel (who believed the creature was genuine) suspected that a few of the cases involved people who were spooked by recent reports and saw owls flying along deserted roads at night. Even so, Mothman remains hard to easily dismiss. The case is filled with an impressive number of multiple-witness sightings by individuals that were deemed reliable, even by law enforcement officials.
But if Mothman was real... and he truly was some unidentified creature that cannot be explained, what was behind the UFO sightings, the poltergeist reports, the strange lights, sounds, the “men in black” and most horrifying, the collapse of the Silver Bridge?
John Keel believes that Point Pleasant was a “window” area, a place that was marked by long periods of strange sightings, monster reports and the coming and going of unusual persons. He states that it may be wrong to blame the collapse of the bridge on the local UFO sightings, but the intense activity in the area at the time does suggest some sort of connection. Others have pointed to another supernatural link to the strange happenings, blaming the events on the legendary Cornstalk Curse that was placed on Point Pleasant in the 1770's. (Click Here to Discover the details about the Cornstalk Curse)
And if such things can happen in West Virginia, then why not elsewhere in the country? Can these “window” areas explain other phantom attackers, mysterious creatures, mad gassers and more that have been reported all over America? Perhaps they can, but to consider this, we have to consider an even more chilling question... where will the next “window” area be? It might be of benefit to study your local sightings and weird events a little more carefully in the future!
Almost two centuries before the shadow of the Mothman reared its head in Point Pleasant, West Virginia, the land around the Ohio River ran red with blood. As the inhabitants of the American colonies began to push their way to the west, and later fought for their independence from Britain, they entered into deadly combat with the Native American inhabitants of the land. Perhaps their greatest foe in these early Indian wars was Chief Cornstalk, who later became a friend to the Americans. But treachery, deception and murder would bring an end to the chief’s life and a curse that he placed on Point Pleasant would linger for 200 years, bringing tragedy, death and disaster....
There is no denying that the southeastern corner of Ohio, and the surrounding area of West Virginia, is considered by many to be one of the most haunted areas of the country. West Virginia has long been thought of as one of the strangest parts of the country in regards to ghosts, legends and strange happenings. This part of the country, which was originally a part of Virginia, was regarded by the Native Americans as a “haunted” spot, plagued with ghost lights, phantoms and strange creatures. The town of Parkersburg, just north on the river from Point Pleasant, has more than its share of ghosts and nearby is Athens County, Ohio, home to the most haunted city in the entire state.
But how did this region gain such a reputation? Why are many people not surprised to find stories of the Mothman, phantom inhabitants and mysterious creatures roaming this part of the country? There have been a number of theories to explain the large number of haunted happenings here, including that this area may be some sort of “window” between dimensions. This would, according to the theories, allow paranormal phenomenon to come and go and vanish at will, just as the Mothman did after 13 months of appearing around Point Pleasant.
Those researchers with a historical bent have offered their own solutions though. They have traced the supernatural roots of the region back to a bloody event from the days of the American Revolution.. and a great curse.
As the American frontiersmen began to move west in the 1770’s, seven nations of Indians (the Shawnee, Delaware, Wyandot, Mingo, Miami, Ottawa and Illinois) formed a powerful confederacy to keep the white men from infringing on their territory. The Shawnee were the most powerful of the tribes and were led by a feared and respected chieftain called “Keigh-tugh-gua”, which translates to mean “Cornstalk”. In 1774, when the white settlers were moving down into the Kanawha and Ohio River valleys, the Indian Confederacy prepared to protect their lands by any means necessary. The nations began to mass in a rough line across the point from the Ohio River to the Kanawha River, numbering about 1200 warriors. They began to make preparations to attack the white settlers near an area called Point Pleasant on the Virginia side of the Ohio River. As word reached the colonial military leaders of the impending attack, troops were sent in and faced off against the Indians. While the numbers of fighters were fairly even on both sides, the Native Americans were no match for the muskets of the white soldiers. The battle ended with about 140 colonials killed and more than twice that number of Indians. The tribes retreated westward into the wilds of what is now Ohio and in order to keep them from returning, a fort was constructed at the junction of the Kanawha and Ohio Rivers.
As time passed, the Shawnee leader, Cornstalk, made peace with the white men. He would carry word to his new friends in 1777 when the British began coaxing the Indians into attacking the rebellious colonies. Soon, the tribes again began massing along the Ohio River, intent on attacking the fort. Cornstalk and Red Hawk, a Delaware chief, had no taste for war with the Americans and they went to the fort on November 7 to try and negotiate a peace before fighting began. Cornstalk told Captain Arbuckle, who commanded the garrison, that he was opposed to war with the colonists but that only he and his tribe were holding back from joining on the side of the British. He was afraid that he would be forced to go along by the rest of the Confederacy.
When he admitted to Arbuckle that he would allow his men to fight if the other tribes did, Cornstalk, Red Hawk and another Indian were taken as hostages. The Americans believed that they could use him to keep the other tribes from attacking. They forced the Native Americans into a standoff for none of them wanted to risk the life of their leader. Cornstalk’s name not only stuck fear into hearts of the white settlers up and down the frontier, but it also garnered respect from the other Indian tribes. He was gifted with great oratory skills, fighting ability and military genius. In fact, it was said that when his fighting tactics were adopted by the Americans, they were able to defeat the British in a number of battles where they had been both outnumbered and outgunned.
Although taken as hostage, Cornstalk and the other Indians were treated well and were given comfortable quarters, leading many to wonder if the chief’s hostage status may have been voluntary in the beginning. Cornstalk even assisted his captors in plotting maps of the Ohio River Valley during his imprisonment. On November 9, Cornstalk’s son, Ellinipisco, came to the fort to see his father and he was also detained.
The following day, gunfire was heard from outside the walls of the fort, coming from the direction of the Kanawha River. When men went out to investigate, they discovered that two soldiers who had left the stockade to hunt deer had been ambushed by Indians. One of them had escaped but the other man had been killed.
When his bloody corpse was returned to the fort, the soldiers in the garrison were enraged. Acting against orders, they broke into the quarters were Cornstalk and the other Indians were being held. Even though the men had nothing to do with the crime, they decided to execute the prisoners as revenge. As the soldiers burst through the doorway, Cornstalk rose to meet them. It was said that he stood facing the soldiers with such bravery that they paused momentarily in their attack. It wasn’t enough though and the soldiers opened fire with their muskets. Red Hawk tried to escape up through the chimney but was pulled back down and slaughtered. Ellinipisico was shot where he had been sitting on a stool and the other unknown Indian was strangled to death. As for Cornstalk, he was shot eight times before he fell to the floor.
And as he lay their dying in the smoke-filled room, he was said to have pronounced his now legendary curse. The stories say that he looked upon his assassins and spoke to them: “I was the border man’s friend. Many times I have saved him and his people from harm. I never warred with you, but only to protect our wigwams and lands. I refused to join your paleface enemies with the red coats. I came to the fort as your friend and you murdered me. You have murdered by my side, my young son.... For this, may the curse of the Great Spirit rest upon this land. May it be blighted by nature. May it even be blighted in its hopes. May the strength of its peoples be paralyzed by the stain of our blood.”
He spoke these words, so says the legend, and then he died. The bodies of the other Indians were then taken and dumped into the Kanawha River but Cornstalk’s corpse was buried near the fort on Point Pleasant, overlooking the junction of the Kanawha and Ohio Rivers. Here he remained in many years, but he would not rest in peace.
In 1794, the town of Point Pleasant was established near the site of the old fort. For many years after, the Indian’s grave lay undisturbed but in 1840 his bones were removed to the grounds of the Mason County Court House where, in 1899, a monument was erected in Cornstalk’s memory. In the late 1950’s, a new court house was built in Point Pleasant and the chief’s remains (which now consisted of three teeth and about 15 pieces of bone) were placed in an aluminum box and reinterred in a corner of the town’s Tu-Endie-Wei Park, next to the grave of a Virginia frontiersman that Cornstalk once fought and later befriended. A twelve foot monument was then erected in his honor.
And this is not the only monument dedicated to the period in Point Pleasant. Another stands 86-feet tall and was dedicated in August 1909, one month behind schedule. Originally, the dedication ceremony had been set for July 22 but on the night before the event, the clear overhead sky erupted with lightning and struck the upper part of a crane that was supposed to put the monument into place. The machine was badly damaged and it took nearly a month to repair it. The monument was finally dedicated and stood for years, until July 4, 1921. On that day, another bolt of lightning struck the monument, damaging the capstone and some granite blocks. They were replaced and the monument still stands today. But what is this bedeviled obelisk that seems to attract inexplicable lightning on otherwise clear evenings? It is a monument to the men who died in the 1774 Battle of Point Pleasant, when Cornstalk and his allies were defeated.
Could the freak lightning strikes have been acts of vengeance tied to Cornstalk’s fabled curse? Many believed so and for years, residents of the triangular area made up of western West Virginia, southwest Pennsylvania and southeastern Ohio spoke of strange happenings, river tragedies and fires as part of the curse. Of course, many laughed and said that the curse was nothing more than overactive imaginations, ignoring the death toll and eerie coincidences that seemed to plague the region for 200 years after the death of Chief Cornstalk.
Many tragedies and disasters were blamed on the curse:
1907: The worst coal mine disaster in American history took place in Monongah, West Virginia on December 6, when 310 miners were killed.
1944: In June of this year, 150 people were killed when a tornado ripped through the tri-state triangular area.
1967: The devastating Silver Bridge disaster (detailed in our section about the Mothman) sent 46 people hurtling to their death in the Ohio River on December 15. Many have also connected this tragedy to the eerie sightings of the Mothman, strange lights in the sky and odd paranormal happenings.
1968: A Piedmont Airlines plane crashed in August near the Kanawha Airport, killing 35 people on board.
1970: On November 14, a Southern Airways DC-10 crashed into a mountain near Huntington, West Virginia, killing 75 people on board.
1976: In March of that year, the town of Point Pleasant was rocked in the middle of the night be an explosion at the Mason County Jail. Housed in the jail was a woman named Harriet Sisk, who had been arrested for the murder of her infant daughter. On March 2, her husband came to the jail with a suitcase full of explosives to kill himself and his wife and to destroy the building. Both of the Sisk’s were killed, along with three law enforcement officers.
1978: In January, a freight train derailed at Point Pleasant and dumped thousands of gallons of toxic chemicals. The chemicals contaminated the town’s water supply and the wells had to be abandoned.
1978: In April of that same year, the town of St. Mary’s (north of Point Pleasant) was struck with tragedy when 51 men who were working on the Willow Island power plant were killed when their construction scaffolding collapsed.
And there have been many other strange occurrences, fires and floods. Most would say however that floods are a natural part of living on the river, although Point Pleasant was almost obliterated in 1913 and 1937. It might be hard to tie such natural occurrences into a curse, but what about the barge explosion that killed six men from town just before Christmas 1953? Or the fire that destroyed an entire downtown city block in the late 1880’s? Some have even gone as far as to blame the curse for the death of Point Pleasant’s local economy, an event linked to the passing of river travel and commerce.
So how real is the “curse”? Is it simply a string of bloody and tragic coincidences, culled from two centuries of sadness in the region? Can it be used to explain why the area seems to attract strange happenings and eerie tales? Or is the area somehow “blighted”, separate from any curse, and attractive to the strangeness that seems to lurk in the shadowy corners of America?
The reader is asked to judge the validity of such curses for himself. For the most part, the deaths and tragedies seem to have waned over the years, perhaps dying out at the bicentennial of Chief Cornstalk’s death. Largely, the curse has been forgotten over time and today, Point Pleasant is better known for its connection to otherworldly visitors like Mothman than for Indian curses and bloody frontier battles.
Fact or coincidence? Who can say... but I know that I hope, for the sake of the people of the Ohio River valley, that Chief Cornstalk will finally rest in peace!
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