‘Call of the Werewolf’

Sigh.

Sorry to those of you still reading this page – it’s been ages I know. Over the Christmas period I’ve had some time to come back and revisit a documentary on the werewolf that I was involved with. This was the series ‘Mythical Beasts’, produced by Windfall Films for the Discovery Science channel in 2018 (still available in the UK via Sky or presumably NowTV). Normally if I appear in something it’s directly working with the presenter, but in this case there was no presenter, just a series of talking heads and a voiceover. I appeared briefly in the ‘Call of the Werewolf’ episode (episode 9) effectively at the behest of one of these experts, social anthropologist Garry Marvin. Garry was brought in to cover the inevitable Beast of Gevaudan segment. At the time I thought the episode was exclusively about La Bête, and wrote this article on that story and how silver bullets DO figure in the story but did not seem to stop the beast. I believe I did pass that information on to Garry or the producers but if so they did not include it. This is, in fact, the only piece of evidence tying the Beast to the traditional werewolf. It is likely (as author Jay Smith believes) that at least some peasants believed that the Beast was a werewolf i.e. a man in wolf form, but there is absolutely no period evidence of that beyond the attempt to kill it with silver. Even then, that attempt was shown to have failed, and no historical werewolf was able to wreak such havoc without being caught or killed. There is also no direct link between werewolves and silver at this time. It was a perceived remedy for basically any supernatural entity or charmed human. So even its usage doesn’t necessarily mean that the user thought they were fighting a werewolf. The vast majority of the evidence is in favour of a special supernatural animal of some kind (mostly thought to be a monstrous wolf or hyena, today all but certain to have been several wolves). So in the scheme of things the Beast is only adjacent to the story of the werewolf and, by rights, I shouldn’t even have appeared!

This blog does a decent job of recapping the episode, although they have misunderstood the point about silver bullets – it’s not that they were unlikely to kill, it’s that they’re less likely to kill than a lead bullet, being lighter and thus less penetrative and less likely to smash bone. They also include the point that people often report something or someone apparently being unaffected by gunshots when in fact they’ve just missed. They over-egg how inaccurate period firearms were, unfortunately, and they use a clip of me to do it. To be clear, smoothbore muzzle-loading firearms are nowhere near as ineffective as people think, but in a high-stress situation like this, it would be far harder to hit and kill a large animal with one of those than with a modern rifled repeating arm, which was my intended point. The dangers of simplifying nuanced points for a general audience, unfortunately. The segment also goes astray slightly in implying that ordinary musket shot would not kill a man-eating wolf. The real point was that it might not immediately kill one, such that the hunters might, along with ongoing deaths, assume that they had hit but not killed it. 

As an amateur werewolf historian of sorts myself, the rest of the episode was… lacking, sadly. We have Brian Regal, an actual historian, commenting on the mythology of silver bullets, which was fine. I see he has a (by his own admission) “not to be taken too seriously” theory that Darwin’s theory of evolution by natural selection led to a downturn in werewolf belief because he showed hybrid animal humans can’t exist. This definitely shouldn’t be taken seriously, I’m afraid. Belief in the werewolf was already significantly subdued by 1859, and humans are quite capable of sustaining belief in magical things regardless of their buy-in on scientific theories. More importantly Regal has, like so many, misunderstood what the true historical/folkloric werewolf really was. It wasn’t a hybrid of man and wolf like the Hollywood beast – it was a man (or demon) in the shape of a wolf. No belief in hybrid man-animals required. Thankfully this idea wasn’t included in the episode, but unfortunately it repeatedly missed the same point – not everything wolf-related is werewolf-related. 

I have skipped again. The actual narrative here begins with that of King Lycaeon, introduced by an actual Classicist. Now, some werewolf scholars suggest that Lycaeon is unrelated to the medieval/early modern northern European werewolf, and I see their point. But the basic trappings of a man (men, actually, since there’s a wider myth of the men of Lycaea turning into wolves periodically) effectively cursed to into a wolf are there. I personally think it’s a valid touchstone, even if direct continuity from this to the ‘golden age’ of werewolfery isn’t evidenced. However, things quickly go off the rails as they bring in archaeologist Miles Russell, who explains his (very valid but irrelevant) research into animal and animal-human hybrids that we’re told are “disturbingly similar” to the werewolf. Except they’re not. Even King Lycaeon, who is famously depicted as a man with a wolf’s head, was not originally described as such – he merely, like all later historical werewolves, turned into a full wolf. The documentary goes on to make this very point via “mythologist” Winnie M Li is not a folklorist or historian, rather an author of fiction, but she’s absolutely right. However, this completely undermines the programme-makers’ own initial proposal that werewolves were physical hybrids of man and wolf (only fictional werewolves are). Confusingly, Li also, elsewhere in the same programme (backed up by Pluskowski), suggests that the entirely separate medieval concept of the hirsute wildman “probably contributes to a nation of what the werewolf would have been”. 

We then go back in time to the famous Upper Palaeolithic ‘Sorceror’ artwork from the cave of Les Tres Freres in France. The link here is supposedly the hybrid creature’s “wolf’s tail”. Even if that WAS supposed to be a wolf’s tail, the rest of the beast isn’t a great match for any kind of wolf – it has antlers for goodness’ sake. Another archaeologist, Aleks Pluskowski, then introduces the idea of Viking wolf-warriors. This is more relevant but as Christa Agnes Tuczay explains in her chapter in ‘Werewolf Histories’ (ed. De Blecourt, p.76), there were actually three ways in which a warrior might be wolflike, only one of which is akin to the Germanic (in origin) werewolf i.e. men who physically become wolves. The programme doesn’t actually explain any of this, choosing to focus entirely upon the famous berserker who merely behaves like a savage wolf (wearing a pelt), complete with a rather misleading animated scene of warriors in wolfskins physically transforming into Hollywood wolf-men. Nor does it mention the third wolf-warrior aspect, which is psychic projection of a spectral wolf-form while the body lies in torpor. This isn’t physical werewolfery but it’s closer than the warrior who merely channels (imagines) the strength of an animal in combat. Onyeka Nubia briefly mentions the same trope in an African context, merely serving to underline how un-werewolf-like this idea really is. By this point we’ve spent a lot of screentime covering things that are mere backstory to the ‘true’ werewolf of northern European folklore. 

Pluskowski mentions the description of accused werewolf Peter Stumpp, whose eyes “in the night sparkled like fire” – the programme suggests that this was a way to tell a werewolf from an ordinary wolf. Indeed, the eyes of a werewolf are sometimes mentioned as somehow noteworthy, but this is usually because they are red or sometimes human-like. Stumpp’s eyes may allude to red werewolf eyes or to normal shining wolf eyes, it’s not entirely clear. In any case the programme’s anatomist Joy Reidenberg then redundantly explains how ordinary wolf eyes work, claiming that people would have mistaken the reflective shine for something demonic. Of course, all wolves have this feature, and it’s a huge reach to suggest that all wolves spotted at night under some sort of light were automatically thought werewolves, especially since domestic dog eyes do the same thing and people had been living with them for thousands of years.

Pluskowski shows us a church mural depicting a man-eating wolf in hell – as he points out, the only animal shown to exist there. The narrator explains that the Christian church changed the popular view of wolves from something powerful and positive to something evil. All of this is good stuff, and is at least relevant background to the actual werewolf as a concept. Unfortunately he then brings in the ‘roggenwolf’ or rye-wolf, a ghostly wolf believed to inhabit farmer’s fields. The documentary narration (not Pluskowski, notably) claims that someone bitten by the rye-wolf would themselves be “cursed to transform into a wolf” and then mentions darkening skin, ravenous hunger and violent convulsions. This leads them (and Aleks) into claiming that this was the result of ergot poisoning. They mention the same theory as applied to the Salem witch trials, a theory that has been thoroughly debunked. I’m skeptical of it here too, since as plausible as it sounds (assuming these symptoms really do appear there really is no need to invoke a medicalised explanation for folklore – people are very capable of coming up with what now seem like crazy ideas without any external stimulus beyond something like failing crops or ill health. They expand it to a general explanation of at least some accused werewolves, a claim for which we have no evidence. More importantly, the rye-wolf and the werewolf are NOT the same thing. Wikipedia makes the connection, pointing to Mannhardt (‘Roggenwolf und Roggenhund’, 1865, pp.31-32) who says that the rye-wolf was sometimes, in his time, referred to using the word ‘werwolf’, i.e. the two myths were conflated in contemporary folklore sources. However, Mannhardt himself emphasises that this is a confusion of two traditionally distinct ideas (well after the era of the werewolf trials), and points out that there is nothing in werewolf folklore to support the idea that rye-wolves were werewolves (a good example of Wikipedia editors not researching beyond the first source they find). 

Worse still, Reidenberg reappears, backed up by “mythological consultant” Richard Schwab, bringing in the old werewolf medicalisation chestnuts of Hypertrichosis (excess hair) and Porphyria (a disfiguring sensitivity to light). No folklorist or historian of werewolf belief takes these theories seriously as the werewolves of folklore were not hairy men who hid from daylight as the movies depict (other perhaps than those suffering from Lycanthropy, the mere belief that one is a wolf). Reidenberg also references the full moon, suggesting that this explains why werewolves were thought to appear at full moon. Now, contrary to common academic claim today, there is an association between humans changing into wolves and the moon. The only Roman instance of a werewolf, Petronius’s Satyricon (which is mentioned in the programme), a 9th century source in the French Bibliothèque Nationale and the early 13th century Otia Imperalia by Gervase of Tilbury all mention the moon albeit none specify the full moon. We can’t really speculate what phases the other writers thought were significant, but Petronius did mention that the moon was shining brightly (“like high noon”), which sure as heck sounds like the full moon to me. Still, even if we accept that there was a common belief that werewolves came out on the full moon, there’s no link here with these medical conditions. 

Overall, the documentary isn’t a total waste of time but, like most of its ilk, is far too keen to paint the werewolf as a universal trope rather than focus upon the beast for which the werewolf was named – the northern European person (usually a man) who becomes an actual wolf by means of pelt, belt, or ointment. There is precious little of this in the episode and so much rich history of ‘real’ werewolf belief that could have been included. Pluskowski in particular makes good contributions but is clearly pursuing his actual research interests of notions of human and animal in general, not the werewolf as a discrete historical or folkloric concept. Although most of the participants had actual credentials, few of them knew much about the werewolf of folklore, and not one actual folklorist was interviewed. Unfortunately this is par for the course with this kind of subject matter, which is invariably sensationalised since most viewers approach it solely from a popular culture background. There were far too many of them as well, resulting in precious little screentime for them or the ideas presented. It’s also unfortunate that the show was clearly made on a very low budget, featuring simple digital artwork and very crude and repetitive CGI. I’m not sure that I dare attempt the vampire episode… 

On Silver Bullets, Werewolves, and Gévaudan

This reminds me, I must re-watch ‘Brotherhood of the Wolf’…

One of my YouTube subscriptions is Trey the Explainer, who does good stuff on history, natural history, evolution, and cryptid creatures, among other things. His latest Cryptid Profile is especially relevant to my interests, because it covers the ‘Beast of Gévaudan’, and I have by coincidence just finished helping with a forthcoming documentary about La Bête. I fully support his conclusion that this was a classic cryptid/social panic case, with anything and everything being identified/misidentified as the beast in question. It was very likely several wolves and/or wolf-dogs, possibly a hyena, possibly a lion or other escaped big cat, and possibly even all of the above. I won’t even rule out the suggestion of a human murderer or two in the mix somewhere. What it wasn’t was a single creature with a supernaturally hard or charmed hide. However, Trey gets a few facts wrong about werewolf and silver bullet mythology. Firstly, there’s no evidence that any of the creatures killed and recovered were actually dispatched with a silver bullet, and some good evidence that they weren’t (such as not being mentioned at all in period sources, notably an autopsy report). Suspected ‘Beasts’ WERE shot at with silver bullets but importantly, they apparently did not work. A Madame de Franquieres wrote to her daughter-in-law on the Beast:

 

‘The express sent to Aurillac relates that M. de Fontanges has had many encounters with the ferocious beast, of which you have no doubt heard, that traverses the Gevaudan. He has passed places where she often goes; he was forced to stay three days in the snow for fear of meeting her. She crosses, without wetting her feet, a river thirty-six feet wide. He claims that she can cover seven leagues in an hour. The peasants do not dare to go out into the country unless in groups of seven or eight. We can not find anyone to herd the sheep. She does not eat animals, only human flesh; men she eats the head and stomach, and women over the breasts. When she is hungry, she eats it all. We tried to shoot him with bullets of iron, lead, silver. Nothing can penetrate. We must hope that in the end we will overcome it.’

-M.”° de Franquières à M.”° de Bressac, Grenoble, 14 March 1765 – see the French original here (p.138).

 

This is supported by another source from 1862 (see here): that reports the use of ‘almost point blank’ folded silver coins, also to no apparent avail. Of course it’s possible that some poor wolf did slink away and die, but either wasn’t the Beast or wasn’t the only ‘Beast’ abroad at that time.

Trey is also under the impression that this incident is the source of the belief that silver bullets can kill werewolves. This is true insofar as there are no written accounts of silver bullet use against canids until Gévaudan, despite modern claims that the silver bullet aspect was only introduced in more modern times or even in fictionalised accounts. The source above proves otherwise. The story certainly helped to spread the idea and perpetuate it into the era of mass literacy and supernatural fiction. However, the idea that this is ground zero for silver bullets versus werewolves is untrue in the sense that the belief applied by no means just to werewolves, but rather to a range of supernatural or charmed targets (although as I’ve previously noted, not vampires until 1928). As such, it predates Gévaudan, meaning that there is in fact no source for the slaying of werewolves with silver bullets. For as long as silver bullets were ‘a thing’, they would have been seen as effective against werewolves or wolf-like supernatural beasts. I should note here that nowhere in the historical literature is the Beast of Gévaudan claimed to have been a loup-garou or werewolf. There are no accounts of it shifting shape, no accusations made of any people suspected to be the Beast. However, historians have noted in period reports werewolf traits such as a foul stench, unusually long claws and teeth, ‘haunting’, ‘sparkling’ or glowing eyes, and an erect posture (see Jay Smith’s ‘Monsters of the Gévaudan: The Making of a Beast’, p.21).

So where does the silver bullet myth come from? The oldest references that I’ve found are in Scots and American poems (1801 and 1806 respectively), and relate to yet another class of supernatural being, albeit one with close ties to the werewolf; that of the witch. The very earliest is the 1801 Scots poem ‘A Hunt’ by James Thomson:

 

‘Quoth he, “I doubt there’s something in’t, Ye’re no’ a hare.

Then in he pat a silver crucky [sixpence],

And says, “Have at ye now, auld lucky ;

Although ye were the de’il’s ain chucky,

Or yet himsell, If it but touch of you a nucky,

It will you fell.”’

 

The sacred cross on the face of the penny was significant. Other accounts mention that the projectile has actively been blessed. A Swedish story from the Gösta Berlings Saga mentions bullets cast from a church bell. But the silver itself seems to have had a divine and magical significance, one that stretches back to ancient times (notably the Delphic Oracle, see this fantastic collection of references). In the German folk tale ‘The Two Brothers’ for example, the witch is shot at with three ordinary silver buttons.

My next source, ‘The Country Lovers‘ (published by Thomas Green Fessenden in 1804) comes from the United States:

 

‘And how a witch, in shape of owl,

Did steal her neighbour’s geese, sir,

And turkies too, and other fowl,

When people did not please her.

Yankee doodle, &c.

And how a man, one dismal night,

Shot her, with silver bullet,*

And then she flew straight out of sight,

As fast as she could pull it.

Yankee doodle, &c.

How Widow Wunks was sick next day,

The parson went to view her, And saw the very place, they say,

Where foresaid ball went through her !

Yankee doodle, Sec.

*There is a tale among the ghost-hunters, in New England, that silver bullets will be fatal to witches, when those of lead would not avail.

 

More Germanic folklore, recorded in 1852 (Benjamin Thorpe’s Northern Folklore, Vol.III, p.27), related that a witch, if shot with silver, would receive a wound that would not heal, and would have to resume its human form. Witches were commonly thought to shapeshift into animal form, hence the overlap with the werewolf. The ‘Witch of Schleswig’ was also known as ‘The Werewolf of Husby’,

Beyond witches, silver bullets might help against other entities. One story includes a shot used against the magic itself rather than the offending creature’s body; in this case a group of fairies;

 

‘In a Norse tale, a man whose bride is about to be carried off by Huldre-folk, rescues her by shooting over her head a pistol loaded with a silver bullet. This has the effect of dissolving the witchery; and he is forthwith enabled to seize her and gallop off, not unpursued.’

 

Frank C. Brown recorded (from North Carolina) a variety of uses of silver (bullet and otherwise) against black magic of all sorts. Ghosts are also associated with silver bullets, as in Washington Irving’s ‘Tales of a Traveller’, Vol.2 (1825), which references a (fictional) pirate ghost. Collections/indices of American folklore also reference ghosts as well as witches (e.g. ‘Kentucky Superstitions’ (1920).

However, the very oldest written accounts were made in reference to ordinary human beings that have been protected (or have protected themselves) by magical charms. These were known as ‘hardmen’, and were typically powerful or noteworthy men with a literal aura about them. One such was John Graham of Claverhouse, Viscount Dundee, who led the Jacobites at the Battle of Killiecrankie in 1689. As Sir Walter Scott wrote in ‘Tales of My Landlord’ (1816, p.69):

 

‘Many a whig that day loaded his musket with a dollar cut into slugs, in order that a silver bullet (such was their belief) might bring down the persecutor of the holy kirk, on whom lead had no power.’

 

The same went for 17th/18th century Bulgarian rebel leader ‘Delyo’, and ‘…an Austrian governor of Greifswald, on whom the Swedes had fired more than twenty balls, could only be shot by the inherited silver button that a soldier carried in his pocket’ (see here). The oldest of all pertains to an alleged 1678 attempt upon the life of English King Charles II.

My point is really that the whole silver bullet myth is misunderstood today. It’s not like the wooden stake that’s specific to vampires or, for that matter, wolfsbane for wolves, conkers for spiders (yes, that’s a genuine belief too). The silver bullet is not specific to werewolves, vampires, or any other target. It is really an apotropaic – it works against magic itself, whether negating the charm of protection around a corporeal enemy, dispelling a ghostly apparition, or breaking fairy magic to free a captive. It’s the ultimate in supernatural self-defence, but it’s only a footnote in the story of the Beast of Gévaudan. It neither originated with the Beast, nor killed it. 

Figment of Imagination enquiries

What an actual Welsh zombie looks like – see this superb BBC documentary series…

The always excellent Zed Word blog has reported some interesting supernatural-related enquiries made under the UK Freedom of Information Act to Dyfed-Powys police in Wales. You can read the various disclosure reports here (page over to the 2010 content for most reports – alternatively I’ve linked most of them below).

Before we have too big a laugh at the expense of others, I should point out that tragically, if inevitably, many calls/reports (and possibly even FOI enquiries) have been made by those with mental health problems. Others are obvious nuisance/time-wasting calls. The zombie incidents make for particularly disappointing reading even for a hardened sceptic;

Unknown 04.11.2006 A phone call made with strange noises and sounded like someone saying zombie.

Haverfordwest 31.10.2008 Report of a person acting suspiciously wearing a zombie mask and dressed all in black.

Pembrey 14.12.2009 Reporting that they are filming a horror in the park about zombies.

Not really in the spirit of the enquiry, I would suggest. More of a keyword search data-dump. Can’t really blame the Fuzz for that though; I’m pretty sure they have other jobs to be getting on with.
Other, slightly more interesting reports just from this constabulary include phantom cats (lots), witches (some) and werewolves (none). Relatively few suggest even a legitimate claim of a supernatural sighting, let alone any subsequent earth-shattering investigation that provided any evidence of one. A handful of ‘actual’ sightings of ghosts is, amusingly, outweighed in the same report by complaints of ghosthunters causing annoyance or alarm. And of course, there are the UFOs, none of which were followed up using police resources, clearly indicating a massive cover-up…or some common sense, depending upon your point of view. Equally encouragingly, it’s clear that in common with virtually all police departments worldwide, the services of psychics are NOT called upon (another denial here).

Some disclosures contain no information as the enquirer has phrased things such that to provide a proper answer would take too much time and money – one of the exemption criteria. Frustratingly, one of these relates again to the activities of amateur (is there any other kind?) ghosthunters. Had they been more specific we might have discovered more about the ‘supernatural’ denizens of Wales, or at least the loons who go looking for them…

I’ll have to see which other UK police services and perhaps even local authorities might have published similar data online – without submitting my own frivolous FOI enquiry, of course!