When Boston and Bailey stood in awe of the Pennsylvania Giant

Fee-fi-fo-fum... we all know the line from the classic fairytale, “Jack And The Beanstalk”, but that’s about the extent of most people’s knowledge on the subject of giants. Yes, there’s Roald Dahl’s “The BFG” too, but it’s a subject that’s been deeply buried in folklore for eons, although less than 140 years ago the people of Boston, New York and Philadelphia were turning up in their thousands to see a man James Bailey – the partner of the “greatest showman”, prior to Phineas Taylor Barnum’s death in 1891 – was heralding as the “Pennsylvania Giant”.

Bailey’s Pennsylvania giant, who was by all accounts an exceptionally tall man who stood at around 9ft 7in, is believed to have appeared in six shows in 1894, with the first taking place in Boston at the Mechanics Hall on 14 April. Just three weeks later he mysteriously passed away, with Bailey burning his contract and every letter and photograph he had of him, save for one distant shot that indicated the man’s height but nothing else.

So who was this mystery man who had thousands of people in Boston, New York and Philadelphia in awe of him? Well, according to the legend, Bailey had received reports of a farmer’s son from Pennsylvania whose height was sensational.

Bailey sent a scout to investigate the reports and on his return he convinced the showman the rumours were true... the man did exist, he was extraordinarily tall and he was willing to appear before the public. The opportunity was impossible for Bailey to ignore, even though the man would only appear on the condition his face could not be photographed.

In the 1890s this was a real concern as photography was perhaps the most powerful form of promotion, with a striking image in newspapers, advertisements and on promotional materials across the country a vital means to pull in the public, with a performer’s face a symbol recognised by thousands.

But the giant insisted only his height could be documented. There’d be no portraits, no close-up images and no permanent record of his identity. The reason? He feared being recognised.

The Mechanics Hall was carefully prepared for the show, the stage was reinforced and special arrangements made for the man to move around. He was described as towering above everyone, his hands, shoulders and overall proportions creating the drama Bailey was banking on. When he finally met the giant backstage, the showman reportedly realised the reality exceeded even the advertisements but what surprised him most was not the man’s height but his expression.

The legend describes the man as appearing unusually old, almost ancient, with a face that seemed to carry experiences far beyond his years. Before the performance, Bailey asked the man the question that had troubled him since signing the contract. Why hide your face? According to accounts, the man looked at Bailey and said "someone could recognise me", which unsettled the showman because it suggested a hidden past.

The audience waiting outside knew nothing about this private conversation. They wanted to see measurements, comparisons and proof of something they considered almost impossible. When the curtain opened, the crowd reportedly fell silent as the giant walked on stage.

For a moment, the spectacle worked exactly as Bailey had planned, until the man did something totally unexpected... he spoke. His voice was described as deep and powerful, carrying across the hall effortlessly. Instead of remaining a silent object of curiosity, he became an active participant in his own story.

This was a significant departure from the norm with performers in similar human exhibitions usually presented as images rather than individuals. Posters emphasised physical features and advertisements created dramatic identities, but audiences were expected to look at, but not relate to, the person. But a man stepping forward and speaking challenged that dynamic, he was no longer just a measurement... he was a human being.

“You think I’m a curiosity, an accident of nature,” he said. “I am not. There were more like me. Not many, but enough that people knew we existed. We lived in the mountains, in the deep forests, in the places your maps called empty.

“But we called ourselves something else, we called ourselves the last. We built things you have forgotten, cities you think are natural rock formations, roads you mistake for game trails. We knew things about the earth and the sky your scientists are only beginning to remember.

“We knew the patterns in the stars. The way the earth answers the sky, your astronomers are only now relearning what we once measured with our hands. The places your maps call empty were never empty. They were only emptied, there is a difference and the difference is us.”

An audience member called out, what happened to you: “We got smaller, generation by generation. My grandfather stood 12ft, my great-grandfather 15, we are disappearing. In another 100 years there will be no one left who remembers we were here at all.”

Then looking directly at Bailey, the giant said: “That is why I agreed to this, not for the money, not for the fame, so that one room of people would know that we were real.”

Then, after quickly ushering the man off stage, Bailey asked him: “What did you mean, they don’t know what we were?”

The giant replied: “Your history books say civilisation began 5,000 years ago, that before that men were primitive, living in caves, hunting with stone tools. We were here before that, my people. And when the floods came, when the earth shifted most of us died.

“The few who survived grew smaller, weaker. They mixed with your kind. The few who lived did not live apart, they married into your kind and the blood thinned. Every so often it surfaces. A child who will not stop growing. That is what I am. A remainder.

“The mounds your archaeologists excavate, those are not burial sites, they are the foundations of structures that once stood hundreds of feet tall. The stone walls in New England, we built those. The earthworks in Ohio, we shaped that land.”

"But where are the bodies?" Bailey asked.

“You found us, you just don’t keep us,” the man replied. “Every few years your newspapers report giant skeletons... seven feet, eight, nine. They document them, send them to museums and then they disappear.

“Count them yourself, the county histories, the old land surveys, bones that never reached a museum or reached one and were never catalogued. The pattern is the evidence. Filed away, lost, your institutions do not want evidence of us. You build your museums to hold the past. But you keep only what flatters you, the rest you lose on purpose and then you call it lost.”

In the subsequent weeks Bailey put on five more shows, moving on to New York and then Philadelphia, where backstage on 3 May the giant died, his heart giving out and he passed away before a doctor could arrive.

He was buried in an unmarked grave in Philadelphia, with Bailey paying for the headstone which only carried the date: May 3, 1894. The funeral was held at dawn with no announcement. Six men were needed to carry the coffin and Bailey stood alone at the funeral, still haunted by the conversation he’d had backstage in Boston.

Until his death in April 1906, Bailey couldn’t let the subject go. He did extensive research, visited libraries and read every newspaper account he could find about giant skeletons being found in burial mounds around the country. He even contacted the Smithsonian to ask about their collection of giant remains, but was told they didn’t have one. Eventually the Smithsonian stopped responding to his inquiries, but he kept his private notes about what he’d read in newspapers and witnessed in 1894.

After his death the notes were passed on to his son, then his grandson and finally in 1967 the family donated them to a small historical society where they sat unread for decades until researchers found them in the 1990s. One, Elizabeth Marsh, considered them of great interest and began connecting the dots... the descriptions of ancient earthworks matched real architectural anomalies across North America, sites mainstream science could not adequately explain.

When Marsh began her research into Bailey’s notes she was a respected historian with a quiet reputation for careful work. But after the paper she wrote detailing the evidence she’d gathered ˗ with reference to earthworks in Newark, copper mines in Michigan and even the Smithsonian's own reports of giant skeletons that were documented and then went cold ˗ was rejected by every major archaeological journal her reputation was shattered and she was laughed out of academic circles and passed away in 2003.

But the story Marsh revealed has refused to go away, with the landscape across North America itself holding the evidence that strongly suggests there may have been a civilisation taller and older than anything written in the history books. But although the newspaper reports about the discoveries of giant skeletons still exist, the physical proof seems to have been mysteriously lost... the Smithsonian seeming to have a habit of misplacing history that doesn’t fit comfortably into the accepted interpretation of our past.

There are many more stories about the discovery of giant skeletons, too many to go into here, although more will follow in PART TWO of this investigation. But first a brief comparison of the Pennsylvania Giant’s height compared to some notable figures today, plus a look at the Smithsonian Institution itself and it’s role in the suppression of historical information that sits outside the approved account of our planet’s history.

The Pennsylvania Giant was believed to have stood at 9ft 7in, more than a foot taller than Sultan Kosen, a Turkish farmer who holds the Guinness World Record for being the tallest living person at 8ft 3in.

United States President Donald Trump claims to be 6ft 3in tall, but when standing side by side with the Prince of Wales (also allegedly 6ft 3in) one might think he’s up to his usual antics of falsifying the truth. A more accurate assessment of his height seeming to be about 5ft 10in.

US basketball player Lebron James ˗ formerly of the LA Lakers but now with the Philadelphia 76ers ˗ stands out at 6ft 9in, while former England striker Peter Crouch is a full three feet shorter than Bailey’s Pennsylvania Giant was claimed to be.

As for the Smithsonian, it is described as “an independent federal trust instrumentality”... a unique public-private partnership that was established by an act of the US Congress in 1846. The federal commitment provides the foundation for all the institution’s work but also helps in attracting private support. It is recognised as a non-profit educational organisation so, unlike most parts of the federal government, it can accept gifts.

It exists because Congress implemented a private bequest through federal legislation after English scientist James Smithson left his estate to found an institution for the “increase and diffusion of knowledge”. Congress accepted the bequest and created the Smithsonian to carry it out, giving it a statutory footing as well as the trust obligations tied to the gift.

Ostensibly it’s an independent establishment within the executive branch of the US government, although historically it has operated outside the direct control of the presidency, while occupying a unique role inside the federal establishment.

It is chaired by a 17-member board of regents, which meets at least four times a year, that is comprised of the Chief Justice, the Vice President, three members of the Senate, three members of the House of Representatives and nine citizen members appointed by “joint resolution” of Congress. Its head is the secretary, appointed by the board of regents, who oversees 21 museums, 21 libraries, the National Zoo, numerous research centres, plus several education establishments.

So, just like any other branch of government, the Smithsonian is ultimately answerable to Congress and falls within the compass of what is regarded as “national interests”. Giants? Ancient aliens? Not really the territory Congress seems to approve of!

>>> Tall tales buried by the Smithsonian: PART TWO