A Meteoric Career: A True Story

SOME of my friends have intimated in print that, for one who is not a lawyer, I am too much involved in lawsuits. I am apparently suspected of having a litigious disposit ion and of indulging in court-room contests as eagerly as the Roman gladiators entered the arena. Indeed, so far am I from receiving credit for a naturally peaceful nature, that I am sometimes depicted as roaming around the country in search of combats, and forcing battle upon unoffending and unsuspecting victims. For this reason, and because I have sometimes told the story to those who seemed to find it interesting, I am writing out the events which led up to my first lawsuit. It has recently been referred to in the metropolitan newspapers and occupies a place in the legal lore of our country.¹ Indeed it resulted in the establishment of a precedent in an unexplored field of jurisprudence.

I

On the second of May, 1890, fine weather prevailed throughout northern Iowa and southern Minnesota. Snow had disappeared, and, except in low and wet places, the frost was out of the ground. The grass was not yet green; no leaves had freshened winter’s dull garb; but farmers were ploughing, the horned lark was nesting, and the air was soft with the allurement of spring.

Just after sunset, and about the time of the evening meal, the residents of that rather sparsely settled region became increasingly conscious of peculiar atmospheric disturbances. One farmer told me that, while he was eating supper, he had heard a series of crackling sounds, which grew rapidly louder until he was convinced that, his house was afire and the woodwork all ablaze. Rushing to investigate, he saw overhead a moving cloud of smoke extending rapidly eastward, and his nostrils were assailed by choking ‘sulphur fumes.’ Another declared that the noises were like pistol-shots, which grew rapidly louder and increased in volume until he thought that a runaway team dragging a farm wagon was crossing the bridge over the ravine near his house. He, too, with all his family, rushed out and discovered the same smoke and the same odor.

At another farmhouse the sound was like sudden thunder out of a clear sky; and almost immediately there was hail on the roof, which ceased as suddenly as it came, while the noise died rapidly away in an easterly direction. Here the Scandinavian boys ran out and picked up the black hailstones which were rolling down from the roof; and one about as large as a cake of washing soap was seized as it rolled to the bottom of a straw stack on which it had fallen. The boy who picked it up said that he dropped it instantly, because it was so cold that it burned his hand.

In Minneapolis, more than one hundred miles away, several of us were on the lawn. My brother, who happened to be looking southward, uttered an exclamation and pointed, saying that he had seen a luminous body pass rapidly across the sky near the horizon, and disappear. We heard no noise, and it is doubtful if we could have heard any.

On the following day, the newspapers contained telegraphic accounts from various points over a wide stretch of country of the passage of a meteor; and singularly enough each observer was under the impression that the stone had fallen quite near his region, although some of the places were more than one hundred miles apart. The meteor was variously described, and fantastic views as to its nature and origin were put forth; but no one claimed to have found it, although searching parties had set out, and many individuals were positive they could go directly to it.

Inspired by these enlivening data, I resolved, perhaps too hastily, to capture that visitor from outer space; and after spending part of the next day at newspaper offices, I took a night train for one of the places which had sent in the most circumstantial statements. For two days and nights, without success, I visited village after village in southern Minnesota. Then I received a telegram advising me to go to Forest City, Iowa, where fragments of a meteorite might be found in a certain hardware store. Taking a night freight, I arrived in Forest City very early in the morning; and as soon as the store was open, I found there one or two broken stony meteorites, which had been brought to town by a Norwegian farmer named Hans Matterson, living some eighteen or twenty miles northwest of Forest City.

At the livery stable I was told that. I could have a team after lunch. No other team could be found, so, stipulating for a driver familiar with the roads, I restrained my impatience until nearly noon. When the team arrived, the driver, who was a lame boy, assured me that he could go directly to Matterson’s.

Our progress was good for some miles; but mudholes were numerous, and my boy would persist in driving through them, under the delusion that there was still frost in the bottom. We came to one, however, where there was no bottom. My crippled driver was useless, and it was my task to walk a quarter of a mile several times, to a fence, pull up the posts, and carry them back to the discouraged team. At last, I got the horses out, pried up the buggy, carried the driver to solid land, halfcarried and half-pulled t he buggy to the horses, hooked the horses in again, and we drove on. The time lost here and at Forest City earlier in the day was the cause of many troubles.

At last I reached the lonely farmhouse of Hans Matterson. There I found a few meteorites, none of them weighing more than a pound, and all of them broken. The thrifty Norwegian said he had pounded them open with an axe in search of silver. This was not so strange, for the stones contained fine specks and filaments of bright nickel-iron much like silver in appearance; and of course, like all prospectors, he expected the veins to widen in depth. Matterson attached no value to his specimens, and was easily persuaded to part with them. He told me, however, that a neighbor, one Peter Hugelen, a Swede, had found a stone ‘as large as a water-bucket,’ and I started, posthaste, to interview Peter.

It was prairie country; there were few fences and not many settlers. The road followed section lines for the most part. Here and there a clump of trees marked the position of a house on a ‘tree-claim’; and the course of small streams in little valleys was indicated by sinuous bands of leafless bushes and trees.

There was no fence around Peter’s place, and I drove up to the house. Seeing nobody in front, I went around to the rear, and there, resting on the ground by the back door, was the object of my quest.

It was sub-rounded in shape, covered with a black crust with the characteristic ‘thumb marks,’ and almost perfect. I lifted it and estimated its weight at sixty-five pounds. I was struck at once by the fact that the dead prairie grass of the preceding year, upon which it had fallen and which had been matted against it and crushed into its depressions when it drove its way into the earth, was perfectly natural and unscorched. This seemed remarkable, in view of the fact that the instant before its impact with the earth the stone’s superficies had been heated to the point of fusion, and even of volatilization, by the intense friction with the atmosphere. That it had been broken several times in the air before its fall was shown by the fact that different portions of its surface possessed crusts of different generations and widely varying thicknesses, on some of which the molten black rock had flowed in waves and little streams. Through the crust could be seen tiny pin-points of the metals characteristic of meteorites, which it contained in small quantity. Inside, the rock was gray and fine-grained.

Mrs. Hugelen came to the door, and I broached the question of sale. She appeared acquiescent, and explained that she and her husband had been embarrassed by their inability to contribute to the cost of building a new church in the county. They were now satisfied that the Lord had provided this unexpected gift as a direct contribution from heaven, to enable them to gratify their charitable inclinations and to hold up their end in the community. Indeed, the gift had been laid almost at her feet. On the evening of May 2, she and her niece were driving in the cattle, when a cloud, making loud noises, passed over, and out of it fell this stone, which obligingly threw up a little mound of prairie sod to attract her attention. She at once called Peter to see it; and the next day he dug it out of its bed and brought it home. To settle the price, she referred me to Peter, who was in the field ploughing.

To Peter I went at once. He was a slow-witted, cautious individual, with a single-track mind. Just now he was ploughing. After my salutation and first question, he ploughed the furrow out and back before making any reply; and the same behavior characterized him during our entire intercourse. Back and forth through the field I followed him. Our negotiations were lengthy, but may be briefly summarized. Peter corroborated his wife. He was willing to sell, and for the reason stated. He wanted three hundred dollars for the stone, not because he had any idea of its value, but because he wanted to give that amount to the church. After much talk and many inquiries as to the estimated cost of the church, the contributions of his various neighbors, the purchase price of other meteorites, especially that which had fallen at Estherville some years before and which was larger than Peter’s, we agreed on one dollar per pound. But Peter thought his stone weighed 75 pounds, while I estimated it at 65. To settle the question, Peter said he would plough one more furrow and then go to a neighbor and borrow some scales. I returned to my buggy and started across the freshly ploughed field toward the house.

On topping the rise, I was much surprised to see another vehicle, much like mine, coming over the field in my direction. Not desiring competition, I at once turned and drove back to Peter. I told him that I was in some haste, and that I would take the stone at his estimate and pay him seventy-five dollars for it.

Peter, who was now unhooking his horses, took his usual several minutes to consider that proposition, and all the time I could see the other team coming nearer. Finally Peter said, ‘Vell, Ay tank ve may as vell veigh ’im.’ And the other team drove up. Peter did not appear to notice it until one of the two men in the carriage accosted him with, ‘Hello! That is quite a stone you have up there. Do you want to sell it?’ (Long pause.) ‘Yas, Ay tank so.’ ‘What do you want, for it? ' (Long pause) ‘Vell, dis har feller offer may seventy-five dollar.’

(Prompt exclamation) ‘Hell!’

And they started off, much to my relief.

Let me explain that I wanted that stone for the museum of the University of Minnesota, and that I had been wiring to University men and others in that region, asking them to try to secure it. Moreover, the newspapers of Minneapolis and St. Paul had a wide circulation throughout this territory, and had reported my departure in search of meteorites. It was possible that the strangers were allies instead of enemies.

They went but a short distance, talking earnestly to each other, and then turned and came back. The taller of the two, a pale, solemn-looking chap, addressed me, saying, ‘Are you from Minneapolis? ’

I admitted that I was and thus revealed my identity. But when I asked him where he came from, and mentioned two or three of the towns to which I had telegraphed, he gave me no satisfaction. After a little more discussion with his companion and a sharp look at me, he alighted from his carriage and joined the cortege now moving toward Peter’s house. In the middle marched Peter, driving his horses; on his right was I, and on his left the tall Unknown. Our teams followed along behind.

After a little desultory conversation, I heard the tall Unknown, sotto voce, offer Peter $80. I promptly raised it to $85. Some distance farther, I heard a bid of $90. I countered with $95. By this time we had arrived in the presence of the exotic prize. We made some further examination of the stone, and discussed the circumstances of its fall and discovery, with Peter as uncommunicative as ever. Finally the Unknown stooped down and, lifting up the meteorite, said, ‘It is n’t worth it, but I’ll give you $100.'

Whereupon Peter remarked drily, ‘Ay tank Ay get may tree hundert dollar.’ And I encouraged his hope by bidding $105. Again the Unknown mentioned a place hotter than the habitat of meteorites, dropped the stone, stalked to his buggy, climbed in, and drove away. Whereupon I picked up the stone, placed it on a board in the back of my buggy, paid Peter $105, took a receipt , and departed.

II

I was now headed for the farm where the hail fell upon the roof, with the other carriage keeping about a halfmile ahead. Evidently it too was in pursuit of the hailstones. The farm which we were now approaching was fenced, and as our competitors had not turned to go in to the farmhouse, which stood in a grove of trees near the southern side of the 160-acre tract, I concluded that the entrance was on the far side. A hedge running from the north boundary fence to the house gave me an idea, and I told my driver to go on around the farm while I slipped out and took the shorter route.

When I reached the house and rapped, the door was opened by a Scandinavian woman who could not understand what I wanted. She called two more to the door, and they all stood around in wonderment while I talked and gesticulated and tried to make a moving-picture of stones falling from the sky. Suddenly one of them exclaimed, ’Ah, maytiōre stine, maytiōre stine, ya, ya.’

‘Yes,’ I said, ‘meteor stein’; and they all ran back into the house. But a few moments brought them out again, shaking their heads. ‘The boys’ had hidden the stones and were now out in the field at work.

I started through the trees to the field; but when I came clear, I saw two teams tied to the fence, and in the field a group of men and boys engaged in animated conversation, so I concluded that my best chance was with the women, and returned to the house.

I had no sooner stepped on the piazza than the door opened and the women came out with their aprons full of little black meteorites, and without more ado I pulled out some silver and soon had the stones stowed away in the pockets of my overcoat. Hardly was this transaction concluded, when I heard horses’ hoofs and, looking up the road, beheld the two carriages swaying from side to side at a gallop. My buggy was in the lead, with one boy seated by my driver; in the pursuing rig were two men and two boys. Into the gate they swung and up to the house. The boys jumped out, followed by the tall Unknown, and they all entered the house, while I climbed into my carriage, and hearkened to the tale of my driver, who had indulged in a little competitive bidding on my behalf, and had finally bargained with one boy for his collection for something like $1.25, twentyfive cents more than the other men offered.

And now pandemonium broke loose. All the boys and women came rushing out of the house at me, screaming as they came. The tall Unknown, white with rage and sputtering oaths, ordered me to hand over some of those meteorites. I laughed and told him that I had bought them and for some had paid twice. He then threatened me with bodily injury and came still closer.

‘What is this?’ said I; ‘a hold-up in broad daylight?’ And slipping out of my heavily loaded overcoat, I jumped from the carriage and started in his direction.

At that he retreated, swearing still and promising me trouble. But as he was willing to confine himself to threats, I had no more time to waste, and I started for town. Looking back occasionally, I could still see the top buggy by the house.

It was long after supper-time when we arrived; but I did not eat until I had hunted up a strong box, made a list of my treasures, taken the box in a wheelbarrow half a mile to the station, routed out the express agent, and shipped the box with its contents to Minneapolis. With the receipt in my pocket, I felt easy, and sat down to a belated meal at peace with the world.

But my peace was of short duration, for almost immediately the hotel proprietor announced that I had been honored by a call from Banker Plummer. On my inquiring as to the reason for the call and the personality of the caller, I learned that everybody knew Banker Plummer, and he had not disclosed the purpose of his visit.

The banker was a large oily person, with massy gold watch chain and Masonic emblems. He introduced himself as a collector of art and of interesting natural objects. He had, of course, heard of the meteorite shower, and had seen the ones brought to town by Hans Matterson. He had also heard that I had driven out and secured a large one, and he wanted to see it and to know all about it. I thought that my driver had been talking, and I told the banker that I had no meteorite. He expressed surprise and incredulity, and I admitted that I had purchased one large one and some small ones, but said that they had already been shipped to Minneapolis. He was so obviously interested, that I described the stone’s weight and appearance, and gave him a little lecture on the different kinds of meteorites, their composition, appearance, and other items of interest. To all of this he listened intently, and then departed, after inviting me to his home to inspect his cabinet — an invitation which I declined.

I rose before daylight the next morning, in order to catch a northbound freight train for other meteoric neighborhoods. It was frosty, and the going was slippery, especially as the boardwalk led down quite a declivity to the station. About half-way down, I saw approaching me several men. One, very large and powerful, was carrying something on his shoulder; another, smaller, bore a lantern. The walk was narrow and I had stepped aside to let them pass, when suddenly I recognized the express agent, and the next instant saw my box perched in the air on the large man’s shoulder.

‘That is my box,’ said I. ‘What are you doing with it?’

The big man put the box down and replied, ‘ If that’s your box, you ’re just the fellow I want to see. I have seized this box on a writ of replevin.’

Right there my legal education began. My puzzled inquiry he met with, ‘Hold that lantern here, Bill.’ And to me he said, ‘I’ll blank soon show you.’

Just then my train whistled, while the sheriff, for it was none other, proceeded to read from a lengthy legal document somewhat as follows: —

‘JOHN GODDARD versus JOHN DOE: —

‘Whereas: Upon the property of John Goddard of Greensburg, Indiana, on the second day of May, 1890, there fell out of the sky a certain stone of meteoric origin weighing about sixty-five pounds, and more particularly described as follows [here came, in almost my own language, the description which I had given to Banker Plummer]; and whereas such meteorite became embedded in the soil and attached to and a part of the said real estate, the property of said Goddard; and whereas said meteorite, of the value of one hundred dollars, was wrongfully, feloniously, and through trespass upon said Goddard’s land, severed and removed from its proper place in the ground by one Peter Hugelen and by him sold to said John Doe; and whereas the said John Doe is about to remove the said meteoric stone from the jurisdiction of this court, to the great and irreparable loss and injury of the said plaintiff Goddard; now therefore, in consideration of the foregoing and of the filing of a good and sufficient bond in the amount of two hundred dollars by said Goddard, for the ample protection of said John Doe, the Sheriff of this county is hereby authorized and instructed to seize the said meteorite wherever within the limits of this county it may be found, and to turn it over immediately to the possession of the plaintiff, his agents or representatives.

‘Signed: John Goddard, by Peters and Fisher, Agents, and William Bradford, Attorney, Britt, Iowa.’

My train might start at any moment, and the station was some distance away. I was in the enemy’s country, without funds, friends, or attorneys. It was necessary to go to Minnesota to find them. So I said to the Sheriff: ‘That writ speaks of only one stone; you have taken a box containing many. I shall bring suit against you if any are missing on my return.’ I also reminded the express agent that I held the company’s receipt for the box and its contents.

He replied that he knew it, and that that was the reason why he was accompanying the Sheriff, to see what was done with it.

Then I ran for my train. In a few hours I reached Albert Lea, Minnesota. When I returned to Forest. City with an attorney and a surveyor, we found that the stone had indeed fallen just a short distance inside of land owned by Goddard, across a road which was the only indication of a boundary. It also appeared that Hugelen had a ‘grass lease’ of the land. The poor Swede was compelled to surrender the $105, which was deposited in a bank in Forest City (not Plummer’s), to await the determination of the title to the erratic visitor from outer space.

Some months later, the case was heard in the local court. There was a large audience present, and I had my first experience on the witness stand. The atmosphere was tense. The tall Unknown became so excited that he fainted, and caused a sudden recess in the court proceedings. The court held that, although there was no precedent, yet there was little doubt as to the legal principles involved. The stone had no owner prior to its fall; but since it actually entered the soil and became part thereof, it belonged to Goddard. We filed an appeal. The Sheriff returned to me most of my small stones.

Time passed and the case had been presented on briefs to the Iowa Supreme Court, which had not yet rendered its decision. In thinking the matter over I had been impressed with the cleverness and utility of replevins. I therefore suggested to our attorney, that we replevin the meteorite back again. He thought that I was joking, and when I persisted, laughed at my ignorance, and explained why it could not be done. It was all a question of title, which would be determined in the suit already instituted.

I then asked him what the remedy would be and what the proper procedure, if neither Goddard nor Doe owned the meteorite, but some third claimant, not a party to the suit, wished to assert his rights. This set him to thinking, and he said he would look it up if I would suggest the third party. So I explained that while I had bought the stone, and the suit was against me, nevertheless the University of Minnesota was the real owner and ought to have a right to replevin the stone. This soon brought us down to the last chapter.

It was announced in the papers and on posters that the famous meteorite was to be exhibited at the Forest City Corn Festival. Judge Elliot would not permit me to accompany him, as I was too well known in that vicinity. He provided a bond of four hundred dollars, twice the value of the Goddard bond; he induced the clerk to make out the papers; he wrote out a receipt for the stone, to be handed to the Sheriff after it had been turned over to the agent of the new plaintiff; he called upon Peters and Fisher, who were engaged at that moment in some probate or justice court hearing, and made demand for the stone, which they naturally treated as a joke. Then, accompanied by the Sheriff, he went to the Fair grounds and — the stone was not there.

He hastened back to the clerk and persuaded him to change the papers, proceeded to the bank, and found the stone in an old gunny sack on the floor of the bank vault.

We now approach the climax of this story. The Sheriff took possession of the stone and handed it over to Elliot, who in turn gave the Sheriff his receipt for it, and in the language of prestidigitation, told him to put it in his pocket.

Just then Peters and Fisher both rushed in — Fisher, large and slow; Peters, small, red-headed, and agile. Together they attacked Elliot in the bank with such impetuosity that he hastily returned the stone to the Sheriff and called upon him for protection. Then Peters and Fisher tried to intimidate the Sheriff, and nearly succeeded; but Elliot reminded him that the stone had already been surrendered to the plaintiff’s attorney, as directed in the writ, and that he held the plaintiff’s receipt for it. Whereupon, in the midst of rapid-fire dialogue, the bulky object changed hands for the third time in five minutes and the Sheriff again delivered it to Elliot.

Holding it in his arms, Elliot now created an excellent imitation of a football scrimmage by catapulting against Fisher and jamming him into the bank counter — a knock-out blow. He then turned and ran for the open door; but just as he reached it Peters tackled him and sent him headlong down the steps, while the stone went rolling across the sidewalk into the street. But Elliot, who had provided for all contingencies, had a team with a driver standing there. Plunging for his goal, he caught up the sack with its precious burden, threw it into the carriage, and told the driver to make tracks for Minnesota.

Fearful of being intercepted by other writs and legal processes, they avoided the main roads; and when the first team was exhausted, Elliot procured another from a farmer, and eventually arrived without interference at a small station in Minnesota. When the first train came along, it proved to be a freight, which started up again before Elliot could reach the caboose. But his momentum had not abated; he threw his suit-case and overcoat, and after them the stone, on top of an empty flat car and rode in triumph and a shower of cinders to Albert Lea.

Early the next morning, I was roused by persistent knocking at the door, and rose to admit Elliot, who presented me with the sack, and said he never wished to see it or its contents again. I lost no time in burying it once more in the ground, in a vacant shed on an empty lot near the University campus, where it remained for fully a year. For the next several days we heard that there were strange men around the museum, apparently searching for something.

We now had two suits going on over the same stone, but by stipulation the second suit was continued until the Supreme Court decided the first one. The decision, when it came, affirmed the lower court. Then we went once more to Forest City, where the University was sued on its bond. The jury fixed the value of the stone at $480. When that was paid, the meteorite finally made its appearance in the museum of the University, where I suppose it is to-day. Small stones belonging to the same fall are to be found in museums all over the world. I have seen them in Budapest, Moscow, and London.

There are several possible morals to my story, but the most obvious is: among your instruments be sure to keep a replevin in good working order.