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Teddy Roosevelt had hunted some exotic game before, but nothing like this.
According to the Middletown Valley Register, a newspaper operating in the shadow of the Blue Ridge Mountains in rural Maryland, President Roosevelt was considering postponing his highly publicized African safari to stalk a local and much more mysterious specimen: the Snallygaster.
The February 1909 article claims that a man had been seized by the winged creature, which proceeded to sink its teeth into his jugular, drain his body of blood and casually drop it off a hillside. The story set off a flurry of reports of sensational encounters with the beast, christened the Snallygaster.
The area was no stranger to strange happenings: Settled by German immigrants in the early 1700s, it was riddled with stories of menacing creatures and assorted ghouls. But no tale sunk its claws into the imagination of the community quite like that of the Snallygaster.
Described as sporting a razor-like beak, lethal claws and a single eye in the middle of its forehead, the creature also, for added effect, emitted a screech like “a locomotive whistle.”
According to local newspapers and several enthusiastic eyewitnesses, the murderous monster undertook a series of colorful adventures: laying an egg the size of a barrel, picking a railway worker up by his suspenders, and even speaking to one man, mysteriously declaring, “My I’m dry, I haven’t had a good drink since I was killed in the battle of Chickamauga!”
It’s widely assumed that many details of the legend were fabrications of wily newspaper editors looking to sell more papers. Dwight Hutchinson of the Middletown Valley Historical Society believes it was the community’s close proximity to the Old National Pike that gave birth to the beast. “It might have been a scare tactic for undesirables traveling through.”
From the roiling mish-mash of old-country horrors, real and perceived threats by outsiders and the startling changes of a new century, perhaps the emergence of the Snallygaster was inevitable.
While the monster supposedly met its demise in – appropriately enough – a vat of moonshine, it has made reappearances. So if you happen to be traveling in the Blue Ridge Mountains, beware: Author Patrick Boyton is set to release his second book on the legend and, never one to shun publicity, the creature could very well re-emerge. After a colorful century of adventures during which even Teddy Roosevelt couldn’t hunt it down, the Snallygaster just may have the last laugh.
