The Church’s response to many of the old Pagan beliefs was rather piecemeal. To the dismay of many religious leaders, a number of major Pagan festivals and processions continued long into the Christian period.

  Fertility Rituals

  Writing in the 6th century, Cesarius of Arles noted with alarm, the fertility processions during the January calends (celebrating the beginning of the year—from which we get the word calendar), in which some of the participants dressed in the skins of stags, sheep, goats, and sometimes hounds and wolves. The purpose of these disguises was to ensure prosperity and plenty throughout the coming year, but Cesarius was appalled and disgusted at the apparent loss of humanity amongst the participants in Arles. Their behaviour was similar to the beasts that they represented; they howled, they roared, and they copulated in the open in a state of euphoria that approached ecstasy. The churchman lost no time criticizing them and urging them to turn to the more spiritual and serene ways. Even so, the sight of normally cultured people indulging in animalistic behaviour must have shaken both him and others.

  The Wild Hunt

  In some parts of Europe, the Church contended with other animalistic traditions—this was the notion of the Wild Hunt. Reference to this occurs in accounts from all over Europe—France, England, Spain, Germany and Scandinavia. The Hunt was a nightly cavalcade—sometimes of the dead, sometimes of supernatural creatures—led by some mysterious and mythological figure. In some areas that figure was Odin, in others Berthold, Herne, or Frau Perchta. Female entities that led the Hunt evoked memories of Artemis or Diana and provided a distinct connection between Greek myth and the legends of the Celts and Germanic peoples. These nightly chases were usually carried out when the moon was full and were usually confined either to the deep forests or remote mountains, reinforcing Man’s fear of the dark and the deep woods. Such traditions stretched back into the mists of antiquity and there was little that the church could do against them, except to condemn them as the works of the Devil. Those who were swept up in their passing became the property of the Enemy of All Mankind. They lost all vestiges of their holy humanity—Man had been created in the image of God—and became as animals, feral and ferocious.

  The Black Death

  Such diabolism was expanding with the spread of the forest. In the late 1340s and early 1350s, a terrible disease took the countries of Western Europe in its fetid grasp. This was the Black Death—a deadly mixture of bubonic, pneumonic, and septicaemic plagues—and it is estimated that it killed somewhere between 25 and 45 percent of Europe’s population. Whole villages were decimated at a single stroke; towns became tombs for the victims of the disease. Many of the 25 million who died were of the labouring poor and those who worked on the land, so as a result, one of the Death’s first victims was the rural economy. Crops rotted in the fields, livestock died for want of care and, more importantly, the forests that had been cut back, began to expand again. And with the growth of cover, the wolf population began to increase. As they competed for food, wolf packs became more and more aggressive, particularly during the cold winter months when game was scarce. From time to time, starving wolf packs would attack human settlements, adding to the general notion that they were vicious killers with a taste for human flesh. In some cases, the Church taught that such attacks were a direct chastisement from God on a sinful world. If men behaved like animals, then they would be judged like animals.

  British/Celtic Wolflore

  Wehrwulf/Wodfreca

  The first usage of the word “werewolf” occurs in English and in a Biblical context. It is referenced in the Ecclesiastical Ordinances of Cnut, a Danish king who ruled a great part of England between 1017 and 1035. The term “wehrwulf” is used in a passage that has little connection with a human transforming into a wolf. The text involved is Matthew 7:15. “Beware of false prophets, which come to you in sheep’s clothing, but inwardly they are ravening wolves.” The author of the Ordnance—intriguingly named Wulfstan—urges both priests and bishops to be vigilant in protecting their flocks (congregation) “in order that the ravening werewolf should not too widely devastate their spiritual flocks. In his exposition, the holy man uses the rare Saxon term “wodfreca” (wod meaning “bold” and freca meaning “grasping” or “greedy” alongside the term “wehrwulf.” This has been translated by some scholars as the Saxon equivalent of berserker—a wild, vicious man who lived in the woods. By using the adjective wodfreca, Wulfstan drew a clear connection between the unchristian person and the wild ravening animal. Later in Saxon England, the term was used to describe any form of outlaw or outcast. These people were associated with viciousness and bloody slaughter; a butcher who gave no mercy. The notion of the wild, wolfish man was becoming deeply entrenched in Christian as well as Pagan mythology.

  Irish Wolfhounds

  It was in Ireland that a written werewolf legend made its appearance. With its deep woodlands and open boggy stretches, Ireland was especially plagued by wolves. So bad was the problem that in 1652, Oliver Cromwell issued an edict at Kilkenny forbidding the export of Irish Wolfhounds, that had been specially bred to deal with the predator. Wolf hunts were common throughout the country—an old ballad “MacDermott” described one of them in Munster. This may have been a reference to the “Black and Tan” hunt that rode through Ireland in medieval times, killing wolves as it met them. Around the 1650s, there were stories of travellers around Lough Neagh in the North being attacked by packs of wild wolves as they walked towards Belfast. An old travel book entitled, The Travels of Cosmo written in 1669, describes Ireland as Wolfland because of the number of the animals that were to be found there. It is not surprising that early tales of werewolves come from Ireland.

  Giraldus de Barri

  The writer of the story is Giraldus de Barri (called Giraldus Cambrenisis or Gerald of Wales), a churchman and a member of the ruling Norman aristocracy in England. His book, A History and Topography of Ireland (sometimes referred to as Irish Wonders and Miracles), was written around 1187. For many 12th century Englishmen, travelling to Ireland was similar to travelling to another planet—it was a mysterious and apparently hostile place. Yet Giraldus had journeyed there in the retinue of Prince John (then Lord of Ireland and to whom he acted as Confessor) and during the course of his stay he visited his distant relatives, the Fitzgeralds of Wicklow.

  If Giraldus had a failing it was that he was far too credulous and believed everything that he was told. For instance, he believed that washing one’s hair in a certain well in Meath would restore greying hair to its natural colour; or that somewhere in the country was a lake in which the fish had teeth of gold. Two other tales, however, interested him greatly—one concerning a man-ox that had been brought to his relative’s castle and the other an old werewolf tale that was widely told. The incident, he specifically asserts, occurred three years before Prince John’s expedition to Ireland, around 1182 or 1183.

  Clan Altan

  A certain priest, travelling from Ulster to Meath on church business, had set up camp for the night in a forest on the borders of Meath. He and his only companion, a small boy, were resting beside the fire when they were greatly shocked and alarmed at the appearance of a large wolf in the forest. More shockingly, the animal spoke to them, telling them that they really should have no fear of it. Despite this reassurance, the priest still had a fear of the creature. However, he questioned the animal and heard a strange tale.

  The wolf was in fact a man. He and his wife were members of Clan Altan, a group of people who inhabited a village in the Diocese of Ossory and who had run from a certain irascible saint—the Abbot Natalis who had cursed them all. The terms of the curse were this: every seven years two of the Clan (a man and a woman) were exiled from their community and forced to take the shape of wolves for seven years. They might be hunted down or attacked by other wolves, but if they survived that period, they would be allowed to return to their village and resume their human form. Two others, however, would then take their place.

  The wolf told the priest that his companion was ill and likely to die and the creature wished the holy man to come and minister to her in her final hours. Although still terrified, the priest followed the werewolf to a hollow tree deep in the forest, where his mate lay. She too behaved in an almost human way although the cleric was still wary. Was he correct in administering the Offices of the Church to such an inhuman creature? He completed most of the Rites of the Church without offering the final communion. Then, using the male werewolf’s paw like a hand, he cut through the skin, peeling it back and revealing the face of an elderly woman underneath. The cleric, now convinced of the creatures’ humanity, offered her the Blessed Sacrament, which she received with due penance and devotion. The werewolf then escorted him back to his camp and after uttering several prophesies concerning the English who were living in Ireland, disappeared back into the forest promising to meet the priest upon his return from Meath. The holy man, however, was delayed, and never saw him again.

  Although Giraldus insisted that the story was uniquely Irish, there are several familiar elements from other cultures. For example, the period of the seven years of Natalis’s curse reflects the nine years of werewolfery in the Lykaian myth from ancient Greece. Two similar stories turn up in other sources—one from an Irish/Scandinavian tradition where the 13th century Kongs Skuggsjo (Speculum Regale) states that St. Patrick turned members of a certain Clan who opposed his teachings, into wolves, their condition lasting for seven years. The second is a fragmentary tale from the Harz Mountain region in present-day Germany, in which a number of “Godless people” are turned into wolves for seven years by an irate St. Willibrod because they worshipped Pagan deities in the form of standing stones.

  One current theme runs through Giraldus’s account and the other stories as well as the Lykaian legend—that the transformation of a person into a wolf is the result of a curse, placed upon the unfortunates either by primal gods or by Christian holy men. It is doubtful that many early clerics used the notion of the “beast lurking within” to symbolize the more ferocious aspects of human nature as opposed to Christian charity and culture.

  Marie de France

  Another contemporary besides Giraldus was Marie de France, a Norman writer who produced a series of lais (epic poems) concerning various aspects of early medieval French life. Much of her work contains a stern moral theme and, although little is known about her, it is quite possible that Marie herself may have been a nun who mixed with the troubadours at the Gascon court.

  The Lai of Bisclavret

  One of these poems, The Lai of Bisclavret, is centred around a garwaf, that Marie describes as a werewolf-like creature known to the Normans. The name “Bisclaveret” itself is something of a linguistic puzzle. Marie insists that it is Breton and indeed it seems to derive from two Breton words bisc meaning “short” and laveret “wearing breeches.” This may refer to other stories of fierce little men, dwelling in the woods, who wore breeches of animal skins and attacked travellers as they passed through the French forests. Such a motif is an adaptation of the Wild Men of the Woods that appears in the myths of many lands, including England. Other linguists have intriguingly linked the name to the ancient Breton bleiz lavaret (speaking wolf) or bleiz laveret (thinking wolf).

  Garwaf

  The protagonist of The Lai of Bisclavret is a Breton knight, considered to be extremely brave, and also married to a beautiful lady. He is, however, surrounded by a mystery. For three whole days each week, he disappears without explanation from his castle, apparently departing into the deep woodlands. These continued disappearances both alarmed and upset his wife who begged him to tell her where he went. Seeing her obvious distress, he finally relented and explained to her that he was a garwaf and must go into the forest for three days each week in order to take the shape of a wolf. As soon as he laid aside his clothes, the transformation occurred. His disclosure only further alarmed his wife who was determined to be rid of him. In order to do this, she planned to steal his clothes (without which he could not return to human form but must remain a wolf forever) and got the nobleman to divulge where he left them—in a hollow stone, concealed by a bush near an ancient chapel deep in the forest. The lady then contacted a former paramour who became her lover and persuaded him to steal the clothes, thus condemning the knight to the permanent wolf-form.

  A year passed and Bisclavret had not returned from the forest. The woodlands were searched but nothing was found. It was assumed that he was dead. His former wife married her lover and gradually his name began to fade from memory. The king, however, was hunting through the forest when his huntsmen found a wolf and his hounds seized upon it. The king, however, showed mercy and spareed the creature, taking it back to the palace as a pet. There it became a favourite of the court, earning many friends by its good nature and gentleness. One day, the monarch gave a great feast, and amongst those invited was the new husband of Bisclavret’s former wife. As soon as it saw the nobleman, the wolf’s mood suddenly changed. Far from being kind and gentle, it turned ferociously on the visitor, leaping upon him and sinking its fangs into him to the astonishment of everyone present. The king himself managed to drive the animal back with a stick, allowing the treacherous knight to escape further injury. Because the creature was so amiable and the attack so unexpected, many began to suspect that there was more to the matter and the king decreed that the incident was to be fully investigated.

  First, however, there was to be a hunt, and once more they passed through the woods near Bisclavret’s former castle. As they camped there, many of the local nobility came to pay their respects to the monarch, including Bisclavret’s former wife. As she entered the king’s presence, the placid wolf at his side changed once more and sprang forward to attack her, biting off her nose in its ferocity (a common torture in the medieval world). The courtiers managed to beat the creature off. Then one of the king’s counsellors, noted for his wisdom, pointed out that the wolf had never attacked anyone save that woman, and her second husband. He also reminded the monarch that this was the wife of a brave knight who had disappeared in mysterious circumstances. The king enforced his decree and investigated further.

  Under torture, the hapless pair revealed what happened. The lady admitted that she had been responsible for the theft of her first husband’s clothes from the hollow stone near the abandoned abbey. The king ordered the return of the garments and when they were brought, he placed them in front of the wolf, which at first shied away from them. The wise counsellor told the king that, because it was a shameful thing, the transformation from wolf back to man must be done in secret with no-one watching. So the king took the wolf back to the royal bedroom and left it alone with the clothes. Shortly afterwards the brave and handsome knight emerged from the room and the king rushed forward and celebrated his return to humanity with great joy. Bisclavert was confirmed in his lands and his treacherous former wife and her husband were banished from the kingdom. They went to live in a distant land where they raised many noseless children.

  Although Marie de France treated Bisclavret sympathetically, she was at pains to point out that the garwaf was a terrifying creature. She described it as a “beste salvage.” Bisclavret revealed that he hunted in the woods by night, similar to a beast of prey, killing and devouring, doing great harm, and that he had a desire to attack and kill humans. She also told of the king’s terror when, during the hunt that captured Bisclavret, he was confronted by the cornered wolf. She described the ferocity of the creature as it attacked its former wife, ripping away her nose.

  Gorlagon

  This lai dates from the 12th century, but it is probably based on an older Breton folktale. Indeed, several ancient Celtic stories contain roughly the same themes concerning the werewolf, one of which is the Welsh Arthurian legend of Gorlagon. This story has many variations, but in a generally-accepted Latin version, Arthus is challenged by his queen to discover the ways of womankind. In order to do this, he sets out for the castle of neighbouring King Gargol. Although this king cannot help him, he directs him to the fortress of another local monarch, King Torleil. This king cannot help him any more than the first but directs him even further, to the castle of King Gorlagon. This king agrees to tell him a story that will aid him in his quest, although he will only be slightly wiser at the end of it.

  His tale concerns a king with a garden or courtyard in which grew a magic sapling. If this sapling were to be cut and the person who cut it tapped himself upon the head with it whilst reciting a certain spell, he would be transformed into the shape of a wolf. His treacherous wife, who had availed herself of a handsome young lover, managed to discover the secret of this sapling, had it cut, and used it to transform her husband. The werewolf-king fled into the forest where he met with a she-wolf and raised a family of wolf cubs whilst his wife married her paramour. When his cubs were almost fully grown, the werewolf-king entered the town and attacked two princes who were the sons of his former wife and her lover. However, the creatures were pursued back into the forest by the lady’s cousins, and the cubs were killed, although the werewolf-king himself escaped.

  Maddened by the slaughter of his offspring, the werewolf-king began to attack the settlements of local shepherds, decimating their flocks. He was hunted and chased out to another land where he was no more welcome. Travelling to a third country, he found a refuge for himself in a deep wood where he thought he might be safe. However, one night he overheard two locals saying that the king was coming that way to hunt the werewolf-king. It is here that the legend begins to closely follow the tale of Bisclavret, in that the wolf managed to stop the king en route to the hunt and convince the monarch not to kill him. He further persuaded the king and his retinue that he was a friendly wolf, and he became much loved by them—almost a pet. Nevertheless, the king’s wife does not approve of the animal, and whilst her husband was away, she mistreated it. At the same time, she was conducting an affair with one of the servants, thus cuckolding the king himself. One night whilst they were engaged in their lovemaking, the wolf attacked them, inflicting deep wounds upon the servant. In order to retaliate, the queen locked her own son in the deepest dungeon and swore that the wolf had eaten him and had even attacked the servant who had tried to defend him. The wolf, however, managed to get the king to follow him to the deep dungeon where the prince was discovered unharmed and the queen’s treachery was exposed. When the boy revealed what had happened, the servant, who was also involved in the plot, was hanged whilst the queen was pulled apart after being tied between wild horses, and her remains burnt.