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<p><em>By Charles M. Skinner, 1896</em></p>
<h1>St. Louis Area Legends & Folklore</h1>
<p>The region surrounding St. Louis, Missouri, steeped in history and folklore, whispers tales of love, loss, and the supernatural. These stories, passed down through generations, offer a glimpse into the beliefs and anxieties of the people who have called this land home. From enchanted lakes to mysterious fiddlers, the **St. Louis Area Legends & Folklore** continue to captivate and intrigue.</p>
<p><strong>The Spell of Creve Coeur Lake</strong></p>
<div id="attachment_19517"><p><img fetchpriority="high" decoding="async" aria-describedby="caption-attachment-19517" title="Creve Coeur Lake" src="https://www.nativehistory.info/wp-content/uploads/2018/03/CreveCoeurLake.jpg" alt="Creve Coeur Lake" width="300" height="225"></p><p id="caption-attachment-19517">Creve Coeur Lake</p></div>
<p>Just west of the bustling city of St. Louis lies Creve Coeur Lake, a body of water nestled within a gentle basin of rolling hills. This serene lake, whose name translates to "Broken Heart," is more than just a scenic vista; it is believed to possess a mystical influence, particularly on matters of the heart. The air itself seems to hum with the echoes of ancient romances and tragic betrayals, contributing to the rich tapestry of **St. Louis Area Legends & Folklore**.</p>
<p>One legend attributes the lake's amorous enchantment to a conflict between the Peoria and Chawanon tribes. A Peoria warrior, betrothed to the daughter of the Chawanon chief, betrayed his alliance by attacking her people. The maiden, a fierce and courageous leader, rallied her warriors, resulting in a bloody and indecisive battle. Exhausted and wounded, both tribes retreated, leaving the shores stained with the marks of their conflict.</p>
<p>Following the cessation of hostilities, a clandestine meeting took place between the young Peoria captain and his Chawanon love. Overcome with remorse and affection, they reaffirmed their vows of fidelity. Their subsequent wedding was celebrated with a proclamation of eternal peace, and the waters where they reunited were blessed, bestowing upon them a lasting power to strengthen love and mend broken hearts. This romantic origin story helps explain the lake's reputation as a place where lovers can confirm their commitment and contentious couples can find reconciliation.</p>
<p>Another, darker, legend paints a more sinister picture of Creve Coeur Lake. It speaks of a monstrous creature, a demon fish or serpent, lurking beneath the surface. This slimy, dripping beast is said to emerge from the depths whenever it senses the presence of lovers, eavesdropping on their whispered promises. Should the man prove unfaithful, he is warned to never return, for the demon will exact a terrible revenge. This creature is believed to harbor the tormented soul of an Ozark princess, a victim of heartbreak and betrayal. The legend of the **St. Louis Area Legends & Folklore** deepens with this tale.</p>
<p>According to this tragic tale, the Ozark princess took her own life by plunging into the lake after discovering that her Spanish governor lover, who had sworn eternal devotion, had married a woman of his own social standing in New Orleans. Consumed by grief and rage, her father, the Ozark chief, paddled to the center of the lake the day after her suicide. There, he solemnly cursed his daughter, imploring the Great Spirit to confine her spirit to the lake as punishment for her misplaced affection for the white man, whom he considered the enemy of his people. The Great Spirit granted his wish, transforming her into the creature that now haunts the waters, forever warning and punishing faithless lovers, adding another layer to the somber history of Creve Coeur Lake.</p>
<p><strong>The Scare Cure</strong></p>
<p>In the early 19th century, a New Englander named Tompkinson, driven by restless ambition, arrived in Carondelet (also known as Vuide Poche), a French settlement on the Mississippi River that has since been absorbed by St. Louis. Tompkinson, down on his luck after a series of failed ventures, was given shelter by Monsieur Dunois, a man of some education who took pity on the ragged and hungry adventurer. The two men struck up an unlikely friendship.</p>
<p>After Tompkinson regained his footing, thanks to some successful speculations, he rented a house and boldly declared himself a physician. However, Tompkinson possessed little to no medical knowledge. Despite his lack of expertise, a few of his patients miraculously recovered, leading to an unexpected and unwarranted reputation as a skilled doctor. This newfound prosperity emboldened him, and he began openly flirting with the young women of Carondelet, much to the dismay of Dunois, who forbade him from his house, and the local priest, who placed him under a ban. This tale is part of the charming **St. Louis Area Legends & Folklore**.</p>
<p>Tompkinson disregarded the priest's censure, but Dunois's anger was a more serious matter, as the only woman he truly loved was Marie Dunois, the old man's daughter. He formally proposed marriage, but Dunois refused to consider it. Soon after, Tompkinson's "practice" dwindled, and his future looked bleak. His fortunes turned, however, when a woman came to him with a bone lodged in her throat, desperate for relief.</p>
<p>Tompkinson's unorthodox method involved consulting a "wheel of fortune" to determine the course of treatment. This time, the arrow pointed to "Bleeding." He grabbed a scalpel and advanced toward the woman, who, fearing he intended to cut her throat open to extract the bone, screamed with such force that the bone dislodged and flew out. This perceived act of brilliance restored Tompkinson's confidence and revitalized his practice. Within a couple of years, he had amassed a considerable fortune, impressing Dunois enough to grant him Marie's hand in marriage. Tompkinson later became an Indian trader, quadrupling his wealth by exploiting the Native Americans, and ultimately becoming one of the most respected citizens of the West. This is another quirky story that contributes to **St. Louis Area Legends & Folklore**.</p>
<p><strong>Twelfth Night At Cahokia</strong></p>
<p>On Twelfth Night, the French village of Cahokia, located near St. Louis, buzzed with excitement in anticipation of a dance to be held in the old court saloon, which served as the community's assembly hall and general-purpose space. The thirteen holy fires burned brightly, with a large fire representing Christ and a smaller one symbolizing Judas, destined to be trampled out by the crowd. The traditional Twelfth Night cake, with a ring hidden in one slice, was cut, and the air was filled with laughter and the aroma of festive drinks. However, the music was delayed, causing some impatience.</p>
<div id="attachment_5525"><p><a href="https://photos.legendsofamerica.com/moresouthernillinois/ec5cf619"><img decoding="async" aria-describedby="caption-attachment-5525" title="Cahokia - Monks Mound by Kathy Alexander." src="https://www.nativehistory.info/wp-content/uploads/2017/07/CahokiaMonksMound-600-300x200.jpg" alt="Cahokia - Monks Mound by Kathy Alexander." width="300" height="200" srcset="https://www.nativehistory.info/wp-content/uploads/2017/07/CahokiaMonksMound-600-300x200.jpg 300w, https://www.nativehistory.info/wp-content/uploads/2017/07/CahokiaMonksMound-600.jpg 600w" sizes="(max-width: 300px) 100vw, 300px"></a></p><p id="caption-attachment-5525">Cahokia – Monks Mound by Kathy Alexander.</p></div>
<p>Gwen Malhon, a driftwood collector, was particularly eager for the music to begin, as he had secured a dance with Louison Florian. Louison was a beautiful woman, reasonably well-off, and her lover, Beaurain, was away. Gwen noticed that Louison was becoming increasingly impatient and perhaps even scornful, so he set out in search of a fiddler. The **St. Louis Area Legends & Folklore** are filled with such suspenseful moments.</p>
<p>He inquired at nearly every cabin without success. As he headed towards the ferry, he heard music. On the moonlit river, he saw a large boat, and on the bank, a group of men were gathered around a fire, drinking from a bottle. A thin, hunched man, cloaked in shadow, sat at a distance on a stump, playing a fiddle. Gwen complimented his playing and pleaded with him to come to the court saloon, explaining the dancers' disappointment. The stranger was courteous. He leaped to his feet with a limping gait and threw back his cloak, revealing a curled mustache, shaggy brows, a goat's beard, and a pair of glittering eyes.</p>
<p>"I'll give them a dance!" he exclaimed. "I know one tune. They call it 'Returned from the Grave.' Pay? We'll see how you like my playing." Upon entering the saloon, the musician was greeted by Mamzel Florian, who offered him a slice of the cake. As he leaned in to take it, she gasped. He had found the ring, making him the king of the festival, with the right to choose the prettiest girl as his queen. After a long drink of red wine, he began to play with an irresistible verve. Within moments, the entire company, including the priest, was dancing with wild abandon.</p>
<p>"Whew!" exclaimed an old man. "It is the devil who plays. Get some holy water and sprinkle the floor." Gwen, watching the musician closely, grew uneasy with the fiddler's gaze upon Louison. He noticed Louison blushing more prettily than he had ever seen her blush for him. Forgetting himself, Gwen rushed toward the barrel where the fiddler was perched. He collided with a dancer and fell. At that moment, the lights went out, and the hall erupted in screams and laughter. One voice rose above the chaos: "By right of the ring, the girl is mine!"</p>
<p>"He has me," Louison was heard to say, seemingly without fear. Lights were brought back, but Louison and the fiddler were gone. The stranger's cloak and half of a false mustache lay on the floor, while Gwen was trapped inside the barrel, desperately trying to escape. Once freed, he raced to the riverbank where he had seen the boat. Two figures flitted before him, but he lost sight of them. The silence and solitude calmed his anger. Could it have been the devil? An owl hooted in the bush, and he fled in haste. Years later, a rumor circulated that Beaurain was an actor in a riverboat troupe, and a woman resembling Louison was also among the performers. But Gwen never told the story of his disappointment without crossing himself, forever haunted by the mysterious fiddler of Cahokia. This is a captivating conclusion to the **St. Louis Area Legends & Folklore**.</p>
<p>Compiled and edited by <a href="https://www.nativehistory.info/about-us/">Kathy Alexander</a>/<a href="https://www.legendsofamerica.com">Legends of America</a>, updated January 2024.</p>
<p><em>About the Author:</em> Charles M. Skinner (1852-1907) authored the complete nine-volume set of <em>Myths and Legends of Our Own Land</em> in 1896. This tale is excerpted from these excellent works and is now in the public domain.</p>
<p><strong>Also See:</strong></p>
<p><a href="https://www.nativehistory.info/mo-meramecghost/">Ghosts of Greater St. Louis</a></p>
<p><a href="https://www.nativehistory.info/mo-lempmansion/">Lemp Mansion – One of the Most Haunted Places in America</a></p>
<p><a href="https://www.nativehistory.info/ah-historicaltext/">More Historical Text</a></p>
<p><a href="https://www.nativehistory.info/legends/">Legends, Myths, & Campfire Tales of the American West</a></p>
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