By Richard Day, Curator of the Old French House
The "sea-serpent" of Horseshoe Pond, six miles south of Vincennes, was 60 feet long--bigger and longer than a telephone pole--and it resembled a snake, but, strange to say, had a head like that of a large dog.
That's how Isaac Daines described what he had seen in the murky waters of Horseshoe Pond, in the April 22, 1892, Vincennes Commercial. The newspaper described Daines as "a highly respected farmer, whose veracity can not be questioned." Daines, his wife, hired men and neighbors, had all seen the creature on several occasions.
"Its color is black on the back and sides. It inhabits the water and does not seem to venture any distance on shore. It glides through the waters of the pond with that easy and graceful movement peculiar to a snake swimming...When approached it becomes alarmed and swims away; if pursued it flees with wonderful rapidity."
Daines said he had tried to kill the monster several times. The bullets seemed to have no effect. Daines planned to collect a crowd of men armed with Winchesters to kill or capture the sea-serpent.
Evidently alarmed by this attention, the monster moved south. The June 17, 1892, Commercial, reported that the sea-serpent had been seen again by "men of good repute for veracity," this time in Big Swan Pond, 10 miles south of Vincennes.
The huge snake was still described as having the head of a dog, colored white, with a white throat, but its black back and sides were now "spotted or mottled, red and yellow, like the side of a large water snake." Skeptics said it was only a large water moccasin of exaggerated size, but others said it was something else.
As can be seen, recent reports of a hairy "thing" lurking about Decker Chapel, of a creature gnawing on the aluminum door and siding of a house near Vincennes, and of UFOs flying over Monroe City are only the latest in a long history of weird happenings in Knox County.
Old French settlers of Vincennes had to deal with the "loup garou," a legendary werewolf that prowled at night along the Cathlinette Road, south of town, attacking hapless wayfarers. The French believed one became a loup garou by failing to attend mass and the sacraments for seven years. Considering the scarcity of missionaries in those days, there might have been a high incidence of lycanthropia (werewolfism).
Another hazard to night travel was the "fifollet," a kind of will-o-the-wisp, or dancing light, which would lure the unwary traveler to drown in the swamps. The French believed that fifollets were souls of those who died without baptism, and, unable to enter heaven, had to wander about on earth.
That these lights were always seen near swamps suggests that the fifollets were merely glowing marsh-gas, while the more imaginative explanation is that they were UFOs.
It is probably no coincidence that Lucky Point, a few miles east of Monroe City, has been the location of several recent UFO sightings.
The are was once covered by the great Montour Pond. Lucky Point formed a shallow crossing-place in the huge marsh where hunters could lie in wait for deer attempting to cross--hence it was "lucky."
In about 1880 Kessinger Ditch drained the marsh, producing thousands of acres of rich farmland. The marsh-gas-fifollets-UFOs remain.
This tendency to explain the unexplainable in familiar terms can also be seen in the fight of a mysterious "airship" over Burnett Heights in Vincennes on the night of April 16, 1897. (See The Valley Advance, March 18, 1980). Reputable men saw lights in the sky, there had been reports of sightings of an "airship" all over the country and people were experimenting with airships--so the witnesses figured they saw an airship.
What it actually was--who knows?
American settlers in Knox County brought with them a tradition about a giant hairy wild man, called the "man-mountain." The Vincennes Western Sun and General Advertiser of June 6, 1829, carried a story about an encounter with a man-mountain in the Okefenoke Swamp of Georgia.
Huge footprints were found--18 inches long, nine inches wide, with a six-foot length of stride. Nine hunters followed the track. Suddenly they saw a 13-foot-tall giant advancing toward them "with terrible look and ferocious mien." The hunters shot their guns, but it didn't stop the monster. Enraged, he wrang off the heads of five of the men before falling dead. The other hunters fled in terror.
There were inevitably reports of local wild men.
Pranksters have played a role in some reports. A ghost-scare that resulted in tragedy was reported in the Vincennes Gazette of April 15, 1852. The wife of Michael Catt of Decker attempted to scare the family by putting on a sheet and acting like a ghost. Her son-in-law, a Mr. Young, shot and killed her.
Newspapers have been known to invent tales on slow news days. Some of the stories seem clearly absurd, like the Feb. 21, 1889, Western Sun report of a 15-foot whale sighted in Mauk's Pond, near Mount Carmel.
A recurring theme has centered around panthers in Indiana and Illinois. A banner year for them was in 1908, where a big cat, real or imagined, terrorized Pike and Gibson residents. Then it moved to Snyder's Gulch, 10 miles Northeast of Hazelton.
Hunters tried to find the animal in the flooded swamp and nearly shot a treed tramp in the process.
The panther was soon replaced by a crocodile, reported on April 29, 1908. He was said to be cavorting in the swamp on Henry Decker's farm in lower Decker Township. According to a nearby farmer, Mathias Pickel, the monster lent a deep bass on the nightly concert of bull frogs.
By June he was reported to have been seen by passengers on the Big Four Railroad as they crossed the Wabash near St. Francisville. A party of young sports set out from Vincennes to procure a hide and skeleton for the natural history cabinet at Vincennes University. They were unsuccessful.
Southern Illinois has had its share of beast stories. The March, 1946, issue of Hoosier Folklore, reports a large ape-like creature who could jump 20 or 30 feet at a bound.
This agile beast eluded bands of hunters with dogs throughout 1942 and 1943. Tracks were found, piercing screams heard, but no dog could be found that held a trail for long.
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EMAIL: rking@indian.vinu.edu