On Horsell Common

I found a little crowd of perhaps twenty people surrounding the huge hole in which the cylinder lay. I have already described the appearance of that colossal bulk, embedded in the ground. The turf and gravel about it seemed charred as if by a sudden explosion. No doubt its impact had caused a flash of fire. Henderson and Ogilvy were not there. I think they perceived that nothing was to be done for the present, and had gone away to breakfast at Henderson’s house.

I found a small crowd of perhaps twenty people around the huge hole where the cylinder lay. I have already described how that enormous object looked, embedded in the ground. The grass and gravel around it looked charred, as if by a sudden explosion. No doubt the impact had caused a flash of fire. Henderson and Ogilvy were not there. I think they realized nothing could be done for the moment and had gone to breakfast at Henderson’s house.

There were four or five boys sitting on the edge of the Pit, with their feet dangling, and amusing themselves—until I stopped them—by throwing stones at the giant mass. After I had spoken to them about it, they began playing at “touch” in and out of the group of bystanders.

Four or five boys sat on the edge of the Pit, dangling their feet. They were amusing themselves by throwing stones at the giant mass, until I stopped them. After I spoke to them about it, they began playing “touch,” weaving in and out of the crowd of onlookers.

Among these were a couple of cyclists, a jobbing gardener I employed sometimes, a girl carrying a baby, Gregg the butcher and his little boy, and two or three loafers and golf caddies who were accustomed to hang about the railway station. There was very little talking. Few of the common people in England had anything but the vaguest astronomical ideas in those days. Most of them were staring quietly at the big table like end of the cylinder, which was still as Ogilvy and Henderson had left it. I fancy the popular expectation of a heap of charred corpses was disappointed at this inanimate bulk. Some went away while I was there, and other people came. I clambered into the pit and fancied I heard a faint movement under my feet. The top had certainly ceased to rotate.

Among them were two cyclists, a gardener I sometimes hired for odd jobs, and a girl carrying a baby. There were also Gregg the butcher and his little boy, along with two or three loafers and golf caddies. These men were used to hanging around the railway station. There was very little talking. In those days, few ordinary people in England had more than the vaguest ideas about astronomy. Most were staring quietly at the large, table-like end of the cylinder. It was still as Ogilvy and Henderson had left it. I think people had expected a heap of charred corpses and were disappointed by this motionless mass. Some left while I was there, and others arrived. I climbed into the pit and thought I heard a faint movement beneath my feet. The top had certainly stopped turning.

It was only when I got thus close to it that the strangeness of this object was at all evident to me. At the first glance it was really no more exciting than an overturned carriage or a tree blown across the road. Not so much so, indeed. It looked like a rusty gas float. It required a certain amount of scientific education to perceive that the grey scale of the Thing was no common oxide, that the yellowish-white metal that gleamed in the crack between the lid and the cylinder had an unfamiliar hue. “Extra-terrestrial” had no meaning for most of the onlookers.

Only when I got this close to the object did I begin to see how strange it was. At first glance, it was no more exciting than an overturned carriage or a tree blown across the road. In fact, it was less exciting. It looked like a rusty gas float. You needed some scientific education to see that the Thing’s gray coating was no ordinary oxide. You also needed it to notice the unfamiliar color of the yellowish-white metal gleaming in the crack between the lid and the cylinder. “Extra-terrestrial” meant nothing to most of the onlookers.

At that time it was quite clear in my own mind that the Thing had come from the planet Mars, but I judged it improbable that it contained any living creature. I thought the unscrewing might be automatic. In spite of Ogilvy, I still believed that there were men in Mars. My mind ran fancifully on the possibilities of its containing manuscript, on the difficulties in translation that might arise, whether we should find coins and models in it, and so forth. Yet it was a little too large for assurance on this idea. I felt an impatience to see it opened. About eleven, as nothing seemed happening, I walked back, full of such thought, to my home in Maybury. But I found it difficult to get to work upon my abstract investigations.

At that time, I was certain the Thing had come from Mars, but I thought it unlikely to contain any living creature. I thought it might be unscrewing automatically. Despite what Ogilvy said, I still believed there were men on Mars. I imagined the Thing might contain a manuscript and wondered what difficulties we might have translating it. I also wondered whether we would find coins and models inside, and so on. Yet the Thing was a little too large for me to be sure of this idea. I was eager to see it opened. Around eleven, since nothing seemed to be happening, I walked back to my home in Maybury, still full of such thoughts. But I found it difficult to get to work on my abstract research.

In the afternoon the appearance of the common had altered very much. The early editions of the evening papers had startled London with enormous headlines:

By afternoon, the common looked very different. The early editions of the evening papers had startled London with huge headlines:

“A MESSAGE RECEIVED FROM MARS.”

“A MESSAGE RECEIVED FROM MARS.”

“REMARKABLE STORY FROM WOKING,”

“REMARKABLE STORY FROM WOKING,”

and so forth. In addition, Ogilvy’s wire to the Astronomical Exchange had roused every observatory in the three kingdoms.

and so on. In addition, Ogilvy’s telegram to the Astronomical Exchange had alerted every observatory in the three kingdoms.

There were half a dozen flys or more from the Woking station standing in the road by the sand-pits, a basket-chaise from Chobham, and a rather lordly carriage. Besides that, there was quite a heap of bicycles. In addition, a large number of people must have walked, in spite of the heat of the day, from Woking and Chertsey, so that there was altogether quite a considerable crowd—one or two gaily dressed ladies among the others.

Six or more horse-drawn cabs from Woking station stood on the road by the sand-pits. There was also a light carriage from Chobham and a rather grand carriage. Besides these, there was quite a pile of bicycles. Many people must also have walked from Woking and Chertsey, despite the heat of the day. So there was quite a large crowd, including one or two brightly dressed ladies.

It was glaringly hot, not a cloud in the sky nor a breath of wind, and the only shadow was that of the few scattered pine trees. The burning heather had been extinguished, but the level ground towards Ottershaw was blackened as far as one could see, and still giving off vertical streamers of smoke. An enterprising sweet-stuff dealer in the Chobham Road had sent up his son with a barrow-load of green apples and ginger beer.

It was blazing hot, with no clouds in the sky and no wind. The only shade came from a few scattered pine trees. The burning heather had been put out, but the flat ground towards Ottershaw was blackened as far as one could see. Streams of smoke still rose straight up from it. An enterprising candy seller on the Chobham Road had sent his son up with a cartload of green apples and ginger beer.

Going to the edge of the pit, I found it occupied by a group of about half a dozen men—Henderson, Ogilvy, and a tall, fair-haired man that I afterwards learned was Stent, the Astronomer Royal, with several workmen wielding spades and pickaxes. Stent was giving directions in a clear, high-pitched voice. He was standing on the cylinder, which was now evidently much cooler; his face was crimson and streaming with perspiration, and something seemed to have irritated him.

When I reached the edge of the pit, I found about half a dozen men there. They included Henderson, Ogilvy, and a tall, fair-haired man. I later learned that he was Stent, the Astronomer Royal. Several workmen were there too, using spades and pickaxes. Stent was giving directions in a clear, high-pitched voice. He stood on the cylinder, which was now clearly much cooler. His face was crimson and streaming with sweat, and something seemed to have irritated him.

A large portion of the cylinder had been uncovered, though its lower end was still embedded. As soon as Ogilvy saw me among the staring crowd on the edge of the pit he called to me to come down, and asked me if I would mind going over to see Lord Hilton, the lord of the manor.

Much of the cylinder had been uncovered, though its lower end was still buried. As soon as Ogilvy saw me among the crowd staring from the edge of the pit, he called me down. He asked if I would mind going to see Lord Hilton, the lord of the manor.

The growing crowd, he said, was becoming a serious impediment to their excavations, especially the boys. They wanted a light railing put up, and help to keep the people back. He told me that a faint stirring was occasionally still audible within the case, but that the workmen had failed to unscrew the top, as it afforded no grip to them. The case appeared to be enormously thick, and it was possible that the faint sounds we heard represented a noisy tumult in the interior.

He said the growing crowd, especially the boys, was seriously getting in the way of the excavation. The workers wanted a light railing put up and help keeping people back. He told me that faint movement could still be heard inside the case from time to time. But the workers had been unable to unscrew the top because they could not get a grip on it. The case seemed enormously thick. It was possible that the faint sounds we heard came from a noisy commotion inside.

I was very glad to do as he asked, and so become one of the privileged spectators within the contemplated enclosure. I failed to find Lord Hilton at his house, but I was told he was expected from London by the six o’clock train from Waterloo; and as it was then about a quarter past five, I went home, had some tea, and walked up to the station to waylay him.

I was very glad to do as he asked, and so become one of the privileged spectators inside the planned enclosure. I could not find Lord Hilton at his house, but I was told he was expected on the six o’clock train from Waterloo in London. Since it was then about a quarter past five, I went home and had some tea. Then I walked up to the station to intercept him.