one’s very own midst!
EIGI EINHAMIR OF NORWAY AND ICELAND
The Reverend Sabine Baring-Gould (1834–1924) was someone who had a deep fascination for stories of strange creatures, including werewolves, ghouls, and a menacing phenomenon known as the eigi einhamir. In Baring-Gould’s own words:
“In Norway and Iceland certain men were said to be eigi einhamir, not of one skin, an idea which had its roots in paganism. The full form of this strange superstition was, that men could take upon them other bodies, and the natures of those beings whose bodies they assumed. The second adopted shape was called by the same name as the original shape, hamr, and the expression made use of to designate the transition from one body to another, was at skipta hömum, or at hamaz; whilst the expedition made in the second form, was the hamför. By this transfiguration extraordinary powers were acquired; the natural strength of the individual was doubled, or quadrupled; he acquired the strength of the beast in whose body he travelled, in addition to his own, and a man thus invigorated was called hamrammr.”
But how, exactly, was transformation achieved? Baring-Gould researched this matter extensively and offered the following:
Anglican priest and author Sabine Baring-Gould is often remembered for writing hymns such as “Onward, Christian Soldier.” He was also fascinated by stories of werewolves, ghouls, and other beasts.
“The manner in which the change was effected, varied. At times, a dress of skin was cast over the body, and at once the transformation was complete; at others, the human body was deserted, and the soul entered the second form, leaving the first body in a cataleptic state, to all appearance dead. The second hamr was either borrowed or created for the purpose. There was yet a third manner of producing this effect—it was by incantation; but then the form of the individual remained unaltered, though the eyes of all beholders were charmed so that they could only perceive him under the selected form.
“Having assumed some bestial shape, the man who is eigi einhammr is only to be recognized by his eyes, which by no power can be changed. He then pursues his course, follows the instincts of the beast whose body he has taken, yet without quenching his own intelligence. He is able to do what the body of the animal can do, and do what he, as man, can do as well. He may fly or swim, if he is in the shape of bird or fish; if he has taken the form of a wolf, or if he goes on a gandrei, or wolf’s-ride, he is full of the rage and malignity of the creatures whose powers and passions he has assumed.”
FENRIR THE WEREWOLF
Dion Fortune was an occultist, mystic, and the author of a number of acclaimed works, and whose real name was Violet Mary Firth. Fortune, who died in 1946 at the age of fifty-five, was someone who was skilled at creating monsters in the mind and who then unleashed them into the world around her. Fortune made it very clear, however, that creating a mind-monster rarely has a positive outcome. It is something that each and every one of us should take careful heed of. Her story is as fascinating as it is disturbing:
“The artificial elemental is constructed by forming a clear-cut image in the imagination of the creature it is intended to create, ensouling it with something of the corresponding aspect of one’s own being, and then invoking into it the appropriate natural force. This method can be used for good as well as evil, and ‘guardian angels’ are formed in this way. It is said that dying women, anxious concerning the welfare of their children, frequently form them unconsciously.
“I myself once had an exceedingly nasty experience in which I formulated a were-wolf accidentally. Unpleasant as the incident was, I think it may be just as well to give it publicity, for it shows what may happen when an insufficiently disciplined and purified nature is handling occult forces.
“I had received serious injury from someone who, at considerable cost to myself, I had disinterestedly helped, and I was sorely tempted to retaliate. Lying on my bed resting one afternoon, I was brooding over my resentment, and while so brooding, drifted towards the borders of sleep. There came to my mind the thought of casting off all restraints and going berserk. The ancient Nordic myths rose before me, and I thought of Fenrir, the Wolf-horror of the North. Immediately I felt a curious drawing-out sensation from my solar plexus, and there materialized beside me on the bed a large wolf. It was a well-materialized ectoplasmic form. It was grey and colorless, and had weight. I could distinctly feel its back pressing against me as it lay beside me on the bed as a large dog might.
“I knew nothing about the art of making elementals at that time, but had accidentally stumbled upon the right method—the brooding highly charged with emotion, the invocation of the appropriate natural force, and the condition between sleeping and waking in which the etheric double readily extrudes.”
In Norse mythology, Fenrir is a god wolf that, at the end times of Ragnarok, actually kills the god Odin.
GLOWING MONSTER OF THE CLIFFS
Throughout the summer and fall of 1997, the skies of South Devon, England, were filled with UFOs, bizarre aerial vehicles, and mystifying lights. Strange creatures—including large black cats resembling mountain lions, flying beasts that had the appearance of huge jellyfish, and ghostly black dogs with blazing, evil-filled eyes—provoked terror in those who encountered them.
Unidentified, robed, and hooded figures were seen prowling around local woods by moonlight, seemingly engaging in infernal, occult-driven rites and rituals. Animals were found dead, and hideously mutilated, under mysterious circumstances. And trying to make some sense of all this high strangeness of the very disturbing kind were two dedicated investigators of all things paranormal, Nigel Wright and Jon Downes. Wright is a well-known, long-time investigator of UFOs in England, while Downes is the director of the Devon-based Centre for Fortean Zoology—one of the few groups that investigates reports of such things as lake monsters, Bigfoot, and the Chupacabra on a full-time basis.
Jon Downes is the director of the Centre for Fortean Zoology in Devon, England.
Such was the sheer scale of supernatural activity that descended on ancient Devon in that specific period, that Downes and Wright found themselves plunged into a dark and turbulent world, one that closely paralleled the menacing environment that threatened to swallow up John Keel, as he investigated the turbulent Point Pleasant, West Virginia, Mothman reports of 1965 to 1967. And in the same way that Keel had run-ins with the Men in Black, both Downes and Wright experienced something chillingly similar: hang-up phone calls in the middle of the night.
Any mention of “animal mutilations” invariably, and quite understandably too, provokes imagery of the notorious “cattle-mutilation” events that reached their peak in the southwest regions of the United States in the mid-to-late 1970s.
On the issue of whether or not the killing and mutilation of animals on a large scale was, and perhaps still is, the work of extraterrestrials, occult groups, government personnel engaged in biological warfare experimentation, scavengers, shadowy figures with concerns about exotic viruses entering the U.S. food chain, or a combination of all the above, the jury is very much still out. But less well known is that