mauled their livestock—then disappeared without a trace. The fact that so many farmers find their dogs slain with necks and backs broken may be an example of the creatures’ powerful ability to defend itself, rather than a quest for fresh meat.
According to Leslie Danielle Ferrymen, an unidentified animal found dead in Galveston Island on September 1, 2008, is believed to be one of the Campeche Beasts, a pack of large black dogs that are said to date back to the time of Jean Lafitte (c. 1776–c. 1826), the notorious pirate. Residents of the small island have been hearing “chilling animal cries” since 1891, with sightings of a monstrous animal with glowing red eyes that apparently mated with a Doberman and a Rottweiler before it died.
Leslie Danielle Ferrymen is a paranormal investigator from Franklin, Tennessee, who heads up The Franklin Ghost and Paranormal Investigation Team. Ms. Ferryman is active in pursuing real urban legends and finding out what truth lies hidden in the stories told. Her 15-member group has investigated many haunted locations all over the United States since its founding in 2006. Her account below originally appeared in Haunted America Tours and is reprinted with the permission of Leslie Danielle Ferrymen.
A pack of twelve dogs from hell is said to have been born in the eye of a hurricane during Pirate King Jean Lafitte’s time on the Island. The Voodoo Queen who performed the ritual that spawned the dogs is said to have died as the last evil pup was born, thus infusing her eternal black powers into the pack. The pups were cross bred from a large Spanish or European black wolf and an evil bitch dog that Lafitte owned.
Some tell the story that the twelve black dogs were bred for hunting down unsuspecting thieves, travelers, and interlopers. Other tales tell that the evil Pirate King claimed the hounds have brought home to him each night multiple heads, hands, and human penises. These bloody trophies came from the people who tried to steal his treasure, his belongings, or his woman.
Jean Lafitte was a privateer in the Gulf of Mexico in the early 19th century. (He often spelled his [name] Laffite.) Lafitte is believed to have been born either in France or the French colony of Saint-Domingue. By 1805 he operated a warehouse in New Orleans to help disperse the goods smuggled by his brother Pierre Lafitte. After the United States government passed the Embargo Act of 1807, the Lafittes moved their operations to an island in Barataria Bay. By 1810, their new port was very successful.
The Pirate King is said by some to have been involved with the powerful forces of black magic and Voodoo-Hoodoo practices. After being run out of New Orleans around 1817, Lafitte relocated to the island of Galveston, Texas, establishing a “kingdom” he named “Campeche.” In Galveston, Lafitte either purchased or set his claim to a lavishly furnished mansion used by French pirate Louis-Michel Aury, which he named “Maison Rouge.” The building’s upper level was converted into a fortress where a cannon commanding Galveston harbor was placed.
Around 1820, Lafitte reportedly married Madeline Regaud, possibly the widow or daughter of a French colonist who had died during an ill-fated expedition to Galveston. In 1821, the schooner USS Enterprise was sent to Galveston to remove Lafitte from the Gulf after the captain of one of the pirates attacked an American merchant ship. Lafitte agreed to leave the island without a fight, and in 1821 or 1822 departed on his flagship, the Pride, burning his fortress and settlements and reportedly taking immense amounts of treasure with him. All that remains of Maison Rouge is the foundation, located at 1417 Avenue A near the Galveston wharf.
While Lafitte and his brother Pierre were engaged in running the Galveston operation, Lafitte demanded that a voodoo queen give him an army of dogs to guard his Island retreat. He reportedly maintained several stashes of plundered gold and jewelry in the vast system of marshes, swamps, and bayous located around Barrataria Bay. Other rumors suggest that Lafitte’s treasure sank with his ship, the Pride, either near Galveston or in the Gulf of Mexico during an 1826 hurricane. It is most commonly said that Lafitte buried his treasure on Galveston Island, and in each location a large black devil dog from his pack of 500 dogs is said to guard it. When Lafitte left the island he left only twelve of the largest and meanest of his supernatural black dogs.
The dogs are said to possess supernatural powers that defy explanation. If you are on Galveston Island, be aware of the shadows day and night, for you might be followed by the dogs of Campeche where ever you go.
The dogs are more [than] able to become just shadows and are said to track anyone who might have strange or covert intentions. Many locals will tell you they will closely follow any stranger [s] on the Island until they leave.
The black dogs are known to breathe heavily on the necks of those who have no good on their minds. One recent tale tells of a tourist who said that she was chased back to her hotel by a large black beast.
Lafitte’s Black Hell Hound Devil Dogs are also said to haunt New Orleans, Barataria, and anywhere Lafitte set foot in his lifetime. Some say the shadows of these dogs can be seen in the waves that crash ashore along the Gulf of Mexico.
Seemingly, Black Dogs as portents of evil can manifest anywhere. In 1990, Sherry and I were speaking with the actor Clint Walker about his near-death experience during a skiing accident in 1973. Walker was a large man, standing six-foot-six, a strapping leading-man who played the strong, silent hero in such motion pictures as The Dirty Dozen (1967), The White Buffalo (1977), Yellowstone Kelly (1959), and Night of the Grizzly (1966). Clint was probably best known as “Cheyenne Bodie” in the popular Cheyenne series that ran for eight years on ABC television network.
There is no love in a Black Dog’s eyes for the human race (iStock).
Walker was just learning how to ski when he fell on the sharp end of a ski pole with such force that the sharp tip pierced his breastbone and moved through his heart. Soon Clint’s true self was not merely floating above is body, he was rising outward into the universe. He saw that time was an illusion and that the body was just a vehicle, a garment that we put on for a while. The soul, however, could not be destroyed.
Two doctors had pronounced Clint dead before a third physician who just happened to be passing through the room, taking a shortcut to somewhere else, believed that he saw a flicker of life in the body lying on the gurney. Clint remembered going down a long tunnel while the doctor worked on his heart, and he recalled his recovery being pronounced a medical miracle.
When he left the hospital, Clint Walker realized that with discipline he could learn to master his thoughts and move closer to the image of true love. He knew that he had his own inner guidance, but that there would be times of testing—and sometimes the power of good could attract the counterbalance of evil.
Five years later, Clint was told that he must have surgery to remove excessive scar tissue that had grown up around the old ski pole wound. Once again, he said, he traveled down the long tunnel with the misty faces and the mumble of voices. Once again, he asked God to allow him to live.
Walker never stayed in a hospital any longer than he had to, so he was home convalescing within a few days. By his second day at home, he was out walking in his yard. By the third day, he was walking down the road toward his mailbox, weak but glad to be alive.
The rugged actor lived at that time in a remote canyon off Mulholland Drive, and he was walking on a dirt road when he saw a large black dog some fifteen feet away. Feeling full of good cheer, he said hello to the dog.
“The dog stared at me in this very eerie manner, and then, suddenly, there