Mysteries of the Werewolf: Shapeshifting, Magic, and Protection

INTRODUCTION

Born of a Wolf

As an animal both mythical and real, as well as a terrifying predator, the wolf has never stopped haunting the human imagination, and, even today, all it takes is the killing of a sheep by a feral dog for people to start claiming it as a wolf’s work. The reintroduction of this animal in parts of the United States and in European countries like France has sparked a general outcry, rekindled passions, and revived ancestral fears.

In Greece, the wolf was connected to the god Apollo Lukegenes—an epithet that could mean born of a wolf—and to Zeus by way of the human sacrifice on Mount Lycaeus. A legend tells how Demenetes was transformed into a wolf for ten years because he had eaten some of the liver of a child whom the Arcadians had sacrificed to this god. For the Altaic peoples, the wolf is seen as the mythic ancestor—Genghis Khan was the son of the Blue Wolf—but in Germanic mythology, it is a wolf who swallows up the supreme god Odin. Even more disturbing is the possibility believed true that some individuals could change into wolves. They are able to divest themselves of their human nature and transform themselves into enemies that are all the more dangerous since no one knows who they are. Means of protecting oneself from this beast have been a concern for people since classical antiquity. Until the early Middle Ages it was said that if a person saw the wolf first, he would strip the beast of its strength and boldness, but if the wolf saw the man first, it would steal his voice, and the man could do nothing to stop him. This is what gave birth to the saying He saw a wolf, which means He is hoarse. I should also point out here that the wolf was also a noble animal, as is shown by the presence of its name in anthroponymics. People are familiar with the saints whose names are Loup,*1 Lupin, and Lupcin. Everyone is also aware of the frequency with which Wolf, Wulf, or Ulf appear in compound German first names. These include the male names Wolfgang (Geit of a wolf), Wolfram (raven-wolf), Kvedulf (night wolf),†2 Asulfr (wolf of the Aesir), Richilf (king wolf)—which was the name of a bishop in thirteenth-century Cologne—and Atavulfus (wolf father), the name of Alaric’s brother-in-law. With respect to women, we have Wolftrud (wolf friend), Wolfhilde, and Wolfgunde (wolf fight). All of these names are very positive. In fact the list could be quite a bit longer! Perhaps it is this nobility that suggested to alchemists to take the werewolf as the symbol for transforming metals into gold.

Cinema and Literature

Everyone has his or her own little notion about the werewolf, and the image of a man that under certain circumstances will change into a wolf is known to all.‡3 The formal name for this individual is lycanthrope. This creature has a long history stretching back to the dawn of time, and he has been given a prominent place by both novelists and filmmakers. The werewolf first entered broadly into mythology by way of the written word and was then followed by film, where the character debuted in 1913 with Henry McRae’s film, The Werewolf. The subject returned in a surprisingly cyclical fashion, spreading the image of the human beast. In 1935, Stuart Walker and George Wagner each released a film, The Werewolf of London and The Wolf Man, respectively, and in 1943, Roy William Neil staged the encounter of the man-wolf with Frankenstein’s monster. Earle C. Kenton recycled this idea in 1944 in his film The House of Frankenstein, which rekindled public interest in the subject and which was exploited with The House of Dracula. Charles T. Barton made a comedy, Abbot and Costello Meet Frankenstein, in 1948, and nine years later Gene Fowler came out with I Was a Teenage Werewolf, in which an insane psychiatrist transformed a teenager into a savage beast by means of a drug. In 1960, Terence Fisher released The Curse of the Werewolf, which was an adaptation of the novel The Werewolf of Paris by Guy Endore. In this story, the monster was born as the result of the love affair between a beggar and a servant. Then in 1980, Joe Dante gave us The Howling in which a pack of werewolves lives hidden inside a clinic. This film inspired three sequels made by Philippe Mora, John Dough, and Neal Sundstom. In short, up to 1994, when Jack Nicholson starred in the film Wolf, there were no less than 166 films on the subject, all works by British and American filmmakers! Today the werewolf has become a staple of fantasy and horror films, and a new mythology surrounding it has evolved on a foundation of psychological and psychoanalytical ingredients.

In literature, we can go back to Cervantes, who talks of islands of werewolves and witches who change into wolves in his Persiles and Sigismunda, then we find, in addition to a poem titled Der Loup Garou by Annette von Droste-Hülshoff (1797–1848), seventeen novels, tales, and novellas, from Le meneur de loups (The Wolf Leader) by Alexandre Dumas, which places the lycanthrope phenomenon under the sign of a pact with the devil, to more modern efforts from great names such as Rudyard Kipling, H. P. Lovecraft, C. D. Simak, and Boris Vian.*4 We can add to this hasty list The Wolf ’s Bride (Sudenmorsian) by Aino Kallas (1878–1956), who delved into Estonian folklore for her story; The Werewolf (Libahunt, 1912) by August Kitzberg (1855–1927), in which a young woman puts up resistance to the despotism of the church and social mores and ends up being taken for a werewolf; and finally the novel also called The Werewolf (Varulven, 1958) by Axel Sansemose (1899–1965). Also, some journeymen of a craft guild in Prosper Mérimée’s book Les Jacqueries†5 adopt the banner of the werewolf.

The story of the werewolf does not end here because the figure never fails to haunt the imagination, and it has appeared in roleplaying games. Today there are DVDs of role-playing games‡6 such as Frankenstein and the Werewolf, The Werewolf of London, The Werewolf of Paris, and so on, as well as card games and miniature figures. There are restaurants, like that in Mont-Tremblant in Québec, and motels, such as that of Sainte-Adèle in the same province, that are under the sign of the werewolf.

Films and novels have contributed to keeping the myth alive and have most likely inspired the refolklorization of the werewolf.

Folklore

Folklore has kept it in memory and contains many accounts of werewolves. These accounts tell of their attacks on children, young girls, women, domestic animals, sometimes their destruction of the harvests, and finally their taste for human fat. It was even believed that werewolves were under the orders of the clergy and the lords to terrorize the common folk and bring them back into the religious fold, control their lifestyles, and dissuade them from going out at night. Some places were dreaded—such as La Lande du Bouc (the Billygoat’s Moor) in the piedmont region of the Pyrenees—as locations where witches and werewolves gathered. Other place-names evoke the presence of lycanthropes—for example, the place called La Liberoutière in the French Alps. On the island of Guernsey there is the cave known as Le Creux des Varous; and there is the Camp du Varou next to the cromlech of L’Érée; and finally Mont Varou in the parish of Saint-Sauveur. The rue Saint Fiacre (Holy Hansom Street) in Ancenis (the department of Loire-Atlantique) was formerly the rue du Garou. In the Vendée region we have the Pierre des Loup-garoux (Stone of the Werewolves) in Breuil-Barret and the Pierre du Bois du Garou (Stone of the Wolfwood) in Saint-Michel-Mont-Mercure. The Montgaroult in the Orne region was the eleventh-century Mons Warulfs. There is a place named Les Garous in the Tarn region, and we find the Fountaim of Margarou in Vienne.

Contrary to what you might think, there are very few tales about werewolves. On the other hand, the legends are many. The bulk of the accounts are what folklorists call memorates, oral narratives setting down the recollection of an event. In this sense, the term legend is not fitting, for we should not make the mistake of dismissing all these tales as pure fiction. They reflect the fears and beliefs of our ancestors, as is demonstrated by the trials of werewolves.

Once we have gathered together all the information that can be gleaned from these texts, they give us many details about werewolves. They tell us how a person becomes one and, notably, how a person recovers his or her human form, how to fight them or free them from their condition—for example, by burning their skin or by calling them by their baptismal name. As we are in the presence of an extremely lively tradition, the principal motifs vary in accordance with place. While the use of a blessed bullet is a customary method for slaying the monster, here and there it is specified that said bullet must have been bitten beforehand. It is common knowledge that blood must be made to spill for the werewolf to return to his original appearance,*7 and the means used to cause this blood to flow go from bladed weapons to farm tools such as scythes, billhooks, and pitchforks.

Another of the more interesting points is that these texts vouch for the mixing or the confusion of the werewolf with other spirits or fantastic beings. In some countries the name used for werewolf is the same as the one used for vampire (see the list in the following section). It is also said that our wolf is a heavy spirit that hurls itself on your back and forces you to carry it. It also behaves like a nightmare, because this being is supposed to be its female counterpart. It is also confused with wild men and even a kind of dwarf called a nuiton. The names that I have gathered below demonstrate that the phenomenon of syncretism has played an important role in the formation of the werewolf myth.

The Names of the Werewolf

Depending on the regions and countries, the mythic animal carries a variety of names behind which, in France, derivatives for loup-garou can be easily found as well as traces of a confusion between wolves and dogs. These names testify to the widespread nature and durability of the belief, so it is not a waste of time to compile a list like this, although it is certainly not exhaustive!

Lorraine: Malou, darou, dorou

Haut-Maine: Gairou

Vendée: Galouc, garache

Bourgogne: Leu voirou

Yonne: Gareloup

Alps: Garu-lô

Sarthes: Ghérou

Upper Pyrenees: Lacarou

Creuse: Loup bérou, loup brou

Central France: Louarat

Picardy: Loueroux, leucarou, or leu-warou

Poitou: Chin grelin

Champagne: Voirloup (Forest of Othe)

Saône-et-Loire: Garelaut

Indre-et-Loire: L’Brou

Normandy: Garewal, varou

Dauphiné: Lhiueru

Meuse: Laou arraou

Lower Pyrenees: Lou carouss

Lot: Leperou

Dordogne: Liberou, lou brou, loup garrud; loulee rou, he runs like mad, in the local dialect is cort coma un lébéro.

Gers: Loup caroun, garoun

Artois: Vain laiwarou

Brie: Loip creu

Mulhouse: Marolf

Forest of Othe: Voirloup

Gironde: Galipaude, gâlou

Morvan: Loup verrou

Lower Normandy: Guérou

Classic Latin: Versipellis

Middle Latin: Gerulphus

Old French: Garwalf, bisclavret, garwall

German: Werwulf, Berwölff*8/Werwölff (1450); Weer-wolf (1738); Waarwolf (1746)

English: Werewolf, warwolf

Scottish: Werwouf (seventeenth century), warwoulf

Icelandic/Norse: Vargúlfr

Danish: Varulv

Swedish: Varulf

Island Swedish: Wargkelng (female werewolf)

Wallachian: Pricolitch

Romanian: Pricoliciul Finnish: Vironsusi, ihmissusi

Walloon: Lèwarou, leû warou (Hainault); dyâle lèwèrou (Pays de Herve); tché à tchinnes (dog with chains, Charleroi region)

Italia: Lupo mannaro

Portuguese: Lobis-homem Serbian: Vukodlak Polish: Wilkolak

Slovak: Vrkolak (same name as the vampire)

Dalmatian: Vakudlak

Czech: Wlkodlak

Byelorussian: Wawkalak

Greek: Broukolac (same name as the vampire)

Estonian: Libahunt

It should be noted that in his Flagellum maleficorum (1461–1470), Pierre Mameur uses berones and galones (plural), which are undoubtedly corruptions of berou and galou*9 because in manuscripts and incunabula we often find the u confused for the n.

There is a distinctive kind of werewolf in the Rhineland that is called der Stüpp. It makes a habit of jumping on the backs of those passing by and making them carry it for a certain distance. This is a motif that can be found in France, particularly in the Alps. It has been admirably described by Maurice Sand-Devant.

In South America, at least two fantastical creatures present surprising similarities with European werewolves: the Peruvian pishtako and the Bolivian likichiri or kharisiri.¹

The Tradition

The Western traditions of the Middle Ages are based on three different segments. The first is literary and scholarly and comes from classical antiquity. Its primary witnesses are Herodotus, Pliny the Elder, Virgil, Ovid, Petronius, Saint Augustine, and Isidore of Seville.² While Herodotus simply speaks of a people who transform into wolves on certain dates, Petronius was first to provide us with some valuable information.

The second vector is Germanic and is anchored in a specific concept of the soul. The soul is able to escape the body and take the form of any animal it chooses.³

The third is from popular culture and can be found in many tales and legends. It pivots around a motif that has been known since the time of classical antiquity: it is necessary to get undressed for the transformation to take place. Between 1160 and 1170, Marie de France echoed this belief in La Bisclavret, in which she explicitly states that if the wolf cannot recover its clothes, it cannot change back into a man.

Two stories have literally been used as paradigms by scholars of ancient times: that of Nebuchadnezzar and that of Lycaon. In the case of the first, driven away from his throne, he first lived on grass alone until his hair grew as long as eagle feathers and his nails were like the claws of birds (Daniel 4:30–34). This was interpreted to be a metamorphosis, although it was simply a question of returning to a savage state. Knowledge of the second was passed on, among other things, by those who are known as the Three Mythographers of the Vatican (between 875 and 1075), who reported this:

Jupiter, who could no longer tolerate human wickedness, assumed the shape of a man and appeared before Lycaon, the king of Arcadia. Lycaon sought to slay the one he mistook for a mortal man and gave him human limbs to eat. When Jupiter recognized what they were he did not destroy Lycaon utterly but transformed him into a wolf so he would constantly be aware of his torment. Still today, this animal preserves the savagery of Lycaon in his behavior and also bears his name.⁴

The Explanations

The werewolf inspired no shortage of questions in ancient days when its existence was a matter of solid belief, and humans endeavored to find explanations that took a variety of guises: the phase of the moon, atavistic regression, possession, curse, a pact with the devil, magic/witchcraft, or the use of various objects.

Scholars and savants of older times have suggested several explanations. About 1209 to 1214, Gervase of Tilbury advanced two: the phase of the moon and a psychological shock. As late as the nineteenth century people still believed that the son of a clergyman would be doomed to transform into a wolf every full moon, and Belgian traditions have solidly preserved the bond joining the werewolf with the dead astral body,⁵ and we should take note of a Swedish film released in the fifties in which a young student changed into a wolf every time he suffered any kind of mental shock. For their part, the traditions of the Pyrenees assert that the werewolf becomes a man again at the break of day.

As we can see, poets, clerics, and scholars tried to formulate rational explanations for the phenomenon. The transformation was triggered by the stone set into a ring, by an ointment, by a branch or by a glove made from wolf hide with which you would be slapped by someone while they said a certain spell, by a curse, by the devil, by a powder provided by a demon,*10 or, in some folk traditions, by a belt or else by atavism, which is the third explanation that is well illustrated by ancient Irish tales.

In more ancient times, the atavistic nature of this strange power was also, it goes without saying, attributed to fate. Burchard, the bishop of Worms (965–1025), offers us a major piece of information because he clearly shows that werewolf is a generic term that applies to other animals, a reason why tales about were-bears have also come down to us through the centuries.

If you have believed what some have customarily believed, to wit, that women who the common folk call the Parques exist or possess the powers attributed to them, such as at the birth of a man they do with him as they please so that this man can, whenever he wishes, turn himself into a wolf—what common idiocy calls werewolf—or assume any other form. (Decretum XIX.5.151)

It is important to realize that the shape of a wolf is but one possible form among many others. It was once believed that the individual had several animal doubles at his or her disposal and that these animals could escape while the person was sleeping, in a coma, or in a trance.⁶ So there are other kinds of were-creatures, and the texts of ancient Scandinavia confirm this. Here, we have as an example the story of a man who assumed the shape of a bull to face off with one of his enemies who had assumed the form of a bear.

Dufthak of Dufthakholt . . . had a great ability in shifting his shape as did Storolf, son of Hoeng who lived in Hvall. They had a disagreement concerning some pastures. One night, around sunset, a man who was gifted with second sight saw a large bear leaving Hvall and a bull leaving Dufthakholt. They met on Storolf ’s field and began fighting furiously. The bear eventually got the upper hand. The next morning the ground of the valley where they met looked as if it had been torn up. The spot is now called Oldugröf. Both men were injured. (Landnàmabók, chapter 350)

In the 1960s, Charles Joisten collected a story in the Ariège region of France that is an amazing account that testifies to the hardy life of very ancient beliefs.

The werewolf (ec lop garong) was a man who transformed into different animals or objects, primarily a bundle of ferns.*10 To heal such a man it was necessary to stick him hard enough to make him bleed, with a fork, for example. It was necessary to stab the shadow not the apparition itself. It could be seen on nights of bright moonlight, but during the dark of the moon it could not be seen at all. This was the same for the men of female witches (bruchas). . . . If a werewolf bit or scratched someone and caused bleeding, that person would become a werewolf. And, conversely, if one made a werewolf bleed by stabbing his shadow, the person would be healed, he would be freed. Most of the time the creature was seen in the form of a bundle of ferns. They would be seen when returning from marketing at Saint-Lary and the fairs of Saint-Girons or Castillon, returning from a vigil. It was possible to get pricked when grabbing this bundle of ferns. (Saint-Lary, hamlet of Crabibes, 1968)⁷

Elsewhere, we see a warrior who changed into a bear lending his support to men battling an enemy.⁸ In Africa, people believe in jackalmen, hyena-men, and leopard-men; the Inuits believe in caribou-men, and the people of the Far East believe in tiger-men. Every land and every civilization has had its own distinctive view of lycanthropy. There are the survivals of shamanic notions behind all these transformations. When the shaman is in a trance, his spirit leaves his body and in the form of a human or animal enters the beyond to return with the soul of a dead person or the means to heal a patient. These aspects were completely misunderstood by medieval Christians. They thought of it as a metamorphosis, due to the great influence the writers of classical antiquity enjoyed at that time, and saw as confirmation of the correctness of their explanation for the phenomenon in the fact that injuries inflicted on the werewolf would be found on the body of the man after he changed back.⁹ Oddly enough, accounts of these non-wolf creatures have survived into fairly recent times, and we can find traces of the confusion of a wolf with other animals, for example, when we are told it is necessary for a person to cover himself with the hide of a lamb—sometimes it should be stillborn—in order to transform.

The role of fate, or more exactly, atavism, is also mentioned in the Distaff Gospels (Evangiles des Quenouilles), which were written in Picardy toward the end of the fifteenth century.

If a man is destined to be leu warou (werewolf), it is rare for his son to not be one.

This collection of beliefs provides us with one very significant detail: men become werewolves and women become cauquemares—which is to say, nightmares, an entity that leaps on sleepers and smothers them. The name literally means "the mar that tramples us," in which the ancient Germanic root word mar means both a person who splits into two and a dead person who comes back to cause people harm.¹⁰ In nineteenth-century Germany it was commonly believed that of six girls born in a row to the same couple, one would necessarily be a werewolf.

Possession became the chief explanation for lycanthropy at the time of William of Auvergne (ca. 1180–1249), the bishop of Paris, who left us a good account. It was followed by efforts making it akin to devilry and witchcraft. The were-creature is a warlock, an impious and malevolent being who uses his animal shape to cause the greatest harm to his fellows. Beggars and other marginal figures were more likely to be taken for lycanthropes, perhaps by reason of the distrust they inspired. But a theme has been preserved in the rural regions of France, where lycanthropy’s long existence has been well attested. We can decide for ourselves based on an account that was collected in Septème in the Lower Dauphiné region in June 1959.

The were-creatures were men who had wrapped themselves in