You know Bigfoot and the Loch Ness Monster. You might even be familiar with Mothman. But have you ever heard of the Wampus Cat?
Appalachia claims its fair share of cryptids − beings that folks believe in and report seeing but that aren't proven to exist − including the Wampus. In Knoxville specifically, stories and sightings of the terrifying six-legged, catlike creature abound.
Newspaper reports of the Wampus in Knoxville appear as early as 1918 and continue through the decades, with stories of dead chickens, dogs with their organs missing and mass hunts through the city and suburbs to find the predator. Try as they might, they never did.
Wampus spells cat-astrophe
The first big Wampus frenzy locally began with an article from the Journal and Tribune Nov. 22, 1918, that
cited a "ferocious animal, presumably a panther or lion," that was roaming Fountain City. A large dog was killed there, one of several in recent weeks. "None of the flesh is ever found missing, but reliable people say the hearts and livers are always torn out," the Journal reported. "Where the sides of the dogs are torn open the ribs are cut as smoothly as if a sharp-toothed saw had been used."
The animal was described as having a big head and wide-set eyes. A University of Tennessee professor of zoology was asked to surmise the species, but could not. One theory was that a circus that had recently visited town had lost one of its animals.
By the following day, the Journal was reporting a hog and two ducks killed in Inskip. The perpetrator purportedly "did not attempt to eat its victims, merely sucking out the blood." Its tracks resembled a dog's, but were larger and with long claws. By the 25th, former President Theodore Roosevelt, famed lion hunter, had been invited to join the Wampus hunt in Knoxville. Rural school attendance had dropped and people were afraid to leave home at night.
The media played a part in exacerbating the Wampus hysteria, reporting on it almost daily in the fall of 1918. The Knoxville Sentinel even offered a $100 prize, equivalent to around $2,055 today, according to the U.S. Bureau of Labor Statistics.
Here's part of a poem by Joe Bogle called "I Can't Catch That Wampus" that the paper ran that December: "I heard there was a wampus / On the outskirts of this town, / And so I thought that I would go / And run that wampus down."
It showed up in local advertising too. Askin and Marine Co. on Gay Street promoted a fine tailored coat suit free "if a lady marksman kills the 'varmint'" and a $5 hat for a successful male hunter. Knaffl & Brakebill offered $5 worth of photographs free, and Rogers & Keener promised a $5 pair of shoes for the killer. In the classifieds, someone advertised their rifle for sale as "a bargain for bear, deer or 'wampus' hunters."
A Thanksgiving Day hunt was proposed, with the Wampus at that point having expanded its territory to Lincoln Park, Oakwood and Whittle Springs. In the latter neighborhood, a mule was killed. People speculated the beast was a cougar, or perhaps a hyena.
The attacks and anxieties brought on by the Wampus continued through early 1919, then died down − for a time.
Bert Vincent's Wampus tales
"A 'wampus cat' or what have you, is still at large," the Knoxville Journal reported in 1932, noting it had "eyes as big as half dollars."
Knoxville News Sentinel columnist "Strolling" Bert Vincent started offering his two cents on the Wampus situation. In a 1936 column, he wrote that back in the day, "newspapers finally let the Wampus story die − in fact sort of helped kill it − because excitement was so intense there was danger of some one getting shot to death by an excitable hunter."
But if the papers killed it in 1919, they resurrected it in the 1930s, with Vincent himself playing no small role. "Washington Pike neighborhood frightened by prowlings of mysterious beast," the subhead of an Oct. 1, 1937, article of his read after Dr. N.A. Williamson reported 24 chickens dead in his backyard. "The beast, the wampus − whatever it is − seems to kill just for the devilish pleasure of killing," Vincent wrote.
It continued to terrorize Knoxville that October near Sharp's Ridge, and after an incident on Hiwassee Avenue, hundreds came out with their dogs to try to find it. No luck. Williamson was getting quite the audience of curious onlookers at his house, too. "I'm thinking of putting up a hamburger stand (to) get back some of the loss of my chickens," he told Vincent.
Soon after, the Wampus reportedly was spotted crossing Broadway near Branson Avenue. "It had a sharp nose, and a long bush tail. It was the size of a dog. It jumped 10 feet out of the path of an automobile and landed in the bushes," Jack Walker told the News Sentinel. "This description fits that of a coyote," Vincent editorialized.
One man shot what he thought was the Wampus that November before realizing it was just a slightly larger than normal housecat.
Vincent brought the Wampus back up through the decades, including in a 1965 column. "Haven't heard a thing about the Wampus Cat for two or three years. Hope the monster beast isn't dead," he wrote. "Could be, though, because if it is as old as some of the stories remembered about it, it is bound to be an old cat by now." If that was true then, it's certainly the case now. Keep an eye out just the same, if you like, but if you do find the Wampus, it's probably best to let it be. The $100 reward offer no longer stands.
Hayden Dunbar Evans is the storyteller reporter. Email: hayden.dunbar@knoxnews.com. Instagram: @knoxstoryteller.
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This article originally appeared on Knoxville News Sentinel: Forget Bigfoot. Knoxville's creepy creature is the Wampus Cat
