by Bob Curran
Although the demographics within the new state were changing, there was still an underlying Catholic ethos, which had been established under both the French and Spanish. The new settlers often incorporated or linked these underlying beliefs with events that had occurred within various communities or to perceptions that they had about the world. For example, at Wolf Hollow near Excelsior Springs, there is an old abandoned house at the end of an overgrown road in which a strange light is said to appear. The place was used by the Ku Klux Klan in the years following the Civil War, and many freed slaves and people of African origin or descent were tortured and killed there. The evil light was supposed to spring up as a direct result of such activities, and is dangerous to those who sometimes venture close to the building. People claim they have heard demonic laughter from the place as soon as the lights are seen, and some state that they have experienced a feeling of weakness when approaching the old house. Is there something dwelling within those crumbling walls that manifests itself in an eerie light and can draw the energy from passers-by?
Nor is the house in Wolf Hollow the only such building in the area. Back in the woods near Excelsior is an old village of about eight small houses. Rumor says that this was an old slave camp, others that it is what is left of an old hotel. All these houses have had their windows boarded up and have been left to rot, and it is simply considered to be an abandoned village. The place, however, has an evil reputation, and is avoided by most local residents. Strange lights are said to move among the old houses, sometimes like candle flames and sometimes like balls of fire, traveling at an incredible speed. There are sometimes sounds, too, such as the clank of chains or children and women weeping. Coupled with these sounds, a fearful lethargy seems to creep over any who hear them or indeed see the lights. It is almost as if the lights and ghostly sounds are drawing energy from all living things nearby; tradition states that they are somehow associated with the slaves who dwelt here, although nobody is sure quite how.
Strange lights are also associated with an old churchyard at Elk Creek Presbyterian Church, near West Plains. On certain nights of the year, some of the graves are said to glow. According to tradition, an epidemic swept through the community and carried away certain people who were buried there. Those who see the lights on the grave will often become sick and die from plague-like symptoms, fitting in with the idea of vampires spreading disease and pestilence. Nearby and slightly to the north of the town, while crossing a low bridge, motorists have often reported feeling slightly unwell and have seen a strange light bobbing at the end of the bridge. Some travelers have even suggested that the light forms itself into the shape of a child’s head; others claim that the light takes the form of a young girl.
Strangely, a similar story comes from Livingston County. Unlike the other tale, this is part of a piece of local folklore with an evil tradition attached to it, which also involves the Slagle Cemetery within the county. The name Joseph Slagle can still send a chill along spines in both Livingston and Caldwell Counties.
According to a history of Livingston and Caldwell counties (published in 1886), Joseph Slagle was a settler who arrived from West Virginia around 1830. It is not altogether clear if Joseph was his actual name, but he was born around 1810 in Augusta County, Virginia, one of 12 children. He studied for the ministry for a time, attending Charlottesville College. Slagle was living in the general area of Medicine Creek around 1839 when he sold goods at Cox’s Mill, the only water-mill in northwestern Missouri. He prospered and became a local justice of the peace and was elected to the County Bench in 1846. He was soon one of the biggest landholders in the region, owning properties totaling more than 1,400 acres. However, there were some factors about him that raised eyebrows. One was that in a settled community with strong and conservative notions, Joseph Slagle had been married five times. Indeed, he seemed to have an unfortunate way with women and none of his wives survived for very long. His first wife, whom he had married in 1832, was Catherine Long, a native of Ohio who had borne him a son, Columbus Genoa. She died unexpectedly in 1841 when it was whispered that Joseph Slagle was “courting” someone else. In November 1843, Joseph married again, this time to Catherine Stone from West Virginia, who died unexpectedly in August 1844. Wasting no time, Joseph married again in May 1845, this time to Sarah Littlepage. She died unexpectedly in September 1846, leaving a daughter, Susan Catherine. In 1848, Joseph Slagle took yet another wife, Elizabeth Crawford from Illinois, who died without warning early in 1849. By now, tongues were wagging, and suspicions were sometimes being openly voiced; this forced Joseph to wait until 1869 before taking another bride, Miss Lottie P. Ellis of Indiana, who bore him another son, Joseph Lee Slagle.
With such a number of wives, Joseph Slagle was understandably the subject of much gossip and speculation. Indeed, there were stories that Slagle had murdered some of these unfortunate women in order to obtain monies and properties, but nothing could be proved. However, among some of the families of the dead women, things were slightly different.
It was Joseph’s marriage to Elizabeth Crawford that brought matters to a head. At the time, a curious rumor was circulating saying that he had been expelled from his ministerial studies for his strange views and beliefs, that he had given himself over to Devil worship, and that he was actively sacrificing his wives to the Evil One in unholy ceremonies. All of these rumors gave Joseph something of a sinister reputation, which circulated far and wide, and in some ways took away from his status as a leading citizen. They also reached the ears of some of Elizabeth’s relatives.
Elizabeth Crawford’s half-brother, Benjamin Collins, lived in Quincy, Illinois. He was something of a disreputable character, widely regarded as a drunk. He was described as a nasty and malicious character, possessed of a ready and fearsome temper. When he heard of Elizabeth’s marriage to Joseph Slagle, he allegedly flew into a vile frenzy and began to recall some of the sinister rumors about the man. He also drew attention to the fact that Elizabeth was a young woman, whereas Joseph was quite old. He declared that he would set out for Missouri and that he would kill Slagle—no sister of his was going to be sacrificed to the Devil.
He arrived in Chillicothe in mid-April and took rooms in a boarding house there. He struck up a friendship with a man named Thomas Gilkison, and together the two of them began to frequent some of the drinking establishments. During these expeditions, Collins repeated many of the old rumors concerning Slagle and his intention to kill him.
On the morning of the April 19th, Collins and Gilkison set out on their usual round of drinking. Collins was unarmed. At about the same time, Joseph Slagle left home to look for a lost cow, taking a rifle with him. When Joseph Slagle met up with the men, Collins bid him good morning. Slagle returned the greeting and Collins then asked him how he was keeping. Slagle replied that his life had been at stake long enough, whereupon he raised the rifle and shot Collins dead. As the first shot did not completely kill Benjamin Collins, Slagle fired again, this time killing him instantly. Afterward, according to Gilkison, Joseph Slagle seemed greatly distressed. He went and surrendered himself for murder and was indicted by a grand jury. When the case eventually came to trial, Joseph Slagle was acquitted, the jury being of the mind that he had killed Collins for reasons that were altogether proper and just. It’s thought, however, that the trial had been rigged in Slagle’s favor.
In order to resolve a discrepancy with dates around the murder, it has been suggested that Elizabeth Crawford, who was Collin’s half-sister, was not Joseph Slagle’s fifth wife, but rather another lady of the same name that he had also married—if this is the case, he married six times. The murder (even though he was acquitted) and the multiple marriages gave Joseph a rather strange reputation, and some people wondered if there was not something in the old stories of Devil worship that had concerned him. It may have been that people were jealous of him (he was a relatively wealthy man in the community) or frightened of him. Not even the threats made against him by such a drunk as Benjamin
Collins seemed to provide any motive for his murderous actions, and gradually the incident metamorphosed into wider tales of supernatural activity. Slagle died in 1895, but the legends about him still continued.
The churchyard where Joseph Slagle, his wives, and his offspring were laid to rest became known locally as “the Old Slagle Cemetery” and it gained something of a sinister reputation. The cemetery is supposedly haunted by a glowing light that sometimes approaches passers-by and leaves them feeling terrified and drained of all energy. Sometimes, the lights are said to change into the semblance of Joseph Slagle’s face. Not only this, but close to the cemetery an old bridge used to stand, which was also said to be very badly haunted. A light was said to drift along the bridge on certain nights of the year. Those who sometimes crossed this bridge experienced a fearful lethargy, which did not dissipate until several hours afterward. A number of stories have grown up around the place throughout the years, adding to its mystery. Recently, the owners of the property had the bridge demolished, though the lights around the area are said to still be active. The place where the mill stood is said to be haunted by the lights, and people claim to have heard whisperings and mutterings around the actual area where the building was located.
Similar stories are told of another abandoned mill at Clinton. Here, peculiar noises are heard that resemble whisperings and moanings, and curious lights are seen moving between the windows of the old building. Again, people who approach the building experience a peculiar sense of weariness, which can leave them inexplicably physically drained. There are numerous stories about the old place (none of which would appear to be true), concerning murders and suicides within its walls, and this has probably fed the vampiric ghostlore that surrounds it.
Unexplained lights (not always vampiric) are also seen in woodlands and along old country roads, hinting back at some of the old tales that are brought from other parts of the world and into Missouri. At Fort Leonard Wood in Pulaski County, for instance, lights are seen in the woods, sometimes around the Thayer Elementary School, and by the perimeter of the Army base, and it is said to be extremely dangerous to approach them. Near Sullivan, along a stretch of roadway in Franklin County known as the Glaser Road, a strange luminous mist is said to appear at certain times. This strange phenomenon was at the height of its appearances during the late 1950s and throughout the 1960s (although it was seen infrequently during the 1940s), but has appeared a number of times since. It is always seen during a full moon. Observers state that it can change color and, from a much more sinister perspective, is also said to be able to follow people, as if possessed of some form of intelligence. It can also change direction if need be, as though aware of its surroundings or being guided by some outside agent. Reports of the size of the misty light may vary. Sometimes, it is said to be a small ball, traveling at great speed; other times it is a large bubble-like phenomenon, moving very slowly and deliberately, as if seeking something out. Again, those who see it are sometimes gripped by a terrible weariness. Another ball of luminous mist has been seen down by the state park further along, and this behaves in exactly the same way.
Just outside Jefferson City is a stretch of old and nearly abandoned highway, along which a vampiric light is said to pass. The roadway is bounded on either side by cornfields, and the light or a glowing mist travels through these fields alongside travelers on the road for a distance of about 4 to 5 miles. Sometimes these travelers complain of an energy loss and severe headaches, as well as pains in all of their joints and muscles. Down this road is another old bridge—a second bridge along the stretch around which eerie lights sometimes flicker. It is said that during the Civil War, a local family was taken down to the bridge and hanged. Those killed included very young children. The horror of this event left its mark on the area, and the spirits of the dead now form the basis of the evil lights, which moved around (and under) the bridge. This is sometimes confused with the Wain-wright Bridge just outside Jefferson City, where strange noises and eerie lights are often seen around the hour of midnight. Some accounts state that the sounds actually come from under the bridge and consist mainly of wailing cries and that this is the area from where the lights and glowing mists seem to issue. Curiously, no less than four farmer’s bodies have allegedly been found under the bridge, mysteriously drained of blood.
It’s not just old stretches of roadway and dangerous-looking bridges that are haunted by such things. Blood-drinking and energy-sapping lights are often seen around old cemeteries, such as those at Jericho Springs. It is said that lights are often seen moving of their own volition within the cemetery confines, and that these odd brilliances may have the power to draw energy from the viewer. Some are said to be associated with the graves of local families, but opinions in the area tend to vary as to exactly who these families might be. Again, descriptions of the lights vary from large-glowing masses to small balls of what appears to be burning fire. All of them, however, create fear and apprehension among those who see them. Few of them are seen outside the cemetery surroundings.
The most famous of all the “Missouri lights,” however, are the Hornet Spooklights, which are often seen near Joplin and on roads along the Missouri-Oklahoma border. Opinion regarding this phenomenon is divided—it is often referred to as a “spook light,” suggesting that it is no more than some form of ghost; other accounts state that it is much more dangerous and may have energy-sapping properties if approached by the unwary. It is, however, a peculiar and inexplicable occurrence.
Roughly about 12 miles south of Joplin, a small and unpaved back road runs through a lonely stretch of countryside. Nearby is the border village of Hornet (about 6 miles southwest of Joplin), which is a very small community. The stretch of road, though only about 4 miles long, has acquired a certain sinister notoriety and, in keeping with the influence of the Evil One, which is said to be paramount in the area, is widely known as The Devil’s Promenade. Along this stretch of road, a light is said to travel and has been witnessed by many people through the years. Although it is said that the light has never harmed anyone, many are very wary of it and there are stories around Hornet—some undoubtedly for the benefit of passing tourists—that suggest that it might be very dangerous to go near.
No one knows what the light might be or what its origins are. Some legends say that it has been there for centuries and was witnessed by both the Quapaw and Osage Indians who hunted in the region. Father Marquet had also heard of the “devil lights” by local Native Americans when he first came to the Missouri Territory in the 1670s. However, accounts of the phenomenon have certainly existed since Civil War times, around the 1860s. As far as is known, however, the first formal report of the light appeared in 1936 in the Kansas City Star, and this was taken up by the noted folklore writer Vance Randolph in his seminal 1947 book Ozark Superstitions. Randolph drew on a number of oral legends concerning the origins of the glow from lost children to beheaded Native Americans. There are also tales of the spirits of evil Native American medicine men returning in the form of the lights. Some locals have attempted to interfere with the Light.
There are, of course, a number of more scientific theories used to explain the lights along The Devil’s Promenade. One states that it is a kind of luminescence that comes from rotting trees and that it is no more than a sign of decay. The light, it is pointed out, has been seen in both damp and marshy areas, and is probably no more than the emission of gasses in that region. However, this does not explain its appearance along the actual path of the Promenade, which is neither damp nor marshy in nature. Another explanation is that the misty brilliance is caused by minerals in the soil. This does not account for the fact that the light appears to move along the section of road, and that it sometimes vanishes only to reappear a mile or so away. Other suggestions assert that it might be caused by some form of electrical or atmospheric conditions, which are caused by shifts in the ground. There have certainly been earthquakes in the region around the mid-1800s and it is significant that the moving
lights were first formally reported around this time. And yet, this does not completely account for the feelings of lethargy experienced by some people who have tried to follow the path of the brilliance. Nor do any of these explanations account for the fact that the spook lights seem to move of their own volition and perhaps with a seeming intelligence, which is not usually given to natural phenomena.
In the late 1950s through the 1960s, there was a Spook Light Museum based in Hornet and run by Leslie W. Robertson. This contained numerous photos of the lights with a number of encounters with them. It also had a viewing platform with a telescope through which visitors could observe the mysterious phenomena without having to go too near it. Some of those who had observed it in this way declared that it was not a single light at all, but a major brilliance with a number of other smaller lights around it. They all moved very closely together, weaving and darting like fireflies. The central brilliance, they said, was like a candle flame.
There have been several attempts to investigate the mysterious light—one of the most celebrated by the author Raymond Bayless in 1963. He visited the site and allegedly saw the phenomenon, but did not approach it. Accounts concerning it seem to go back a long time; in fact, one of those whom Bayless interviewed, Mr. Arthur Holbrook, was an elderly local resident and a person who had been interested in the phenomenon for many years. He stated that he had first observed the light in 1905. He also stated that the light could be dangerous if one got too close. Holbrook dismissed the claim that it might be an atmospheric anomaly created by car headlights on a nearby roadway, as there had been no automobiles around then and The Devil’s Promenade had been only a stretch of dirt road. Others told Bayless that the light was a very ancient phenomenon—“an old Indian thing”—and that it represented some force that resided in the area and had since time immemorial. It was also dangerous to humans.