“If the taile of a wolfe be hung in the cratch of Oxen, they can never eat their meate. If a horse tread upon the foote steps of a Wolfe, which is under a Horse-man or Rider, hee breaketh in peeces, or else standeth amazed. If a wolfe treadeth in the footsteps of a horse which draweth a waggon, he cleaveth fast in the rode, as if he were frozen.
“If a Mare with foale, tread upon the footsteps of a wolfe, she casteth her foal, and therefore the Egyptians, when they signifie abortment doe picture a mare treading upon a wolf’s foot. These and such other things are reported, (but I cannot tell how true) as supernaturall accidents in wolves. The wolfe also laboureth to overcome the Leoparde, and followeth him from place to place, but, for as much as they dare not adventure upon him single, or hand to hand, they gather multitudes, and
so devoure them. When wolves set upon wilde Bores, although they bee at variance amonge themselves, yet they give over their mutual combats, and joyne together against the Wolfe their common adversarie.
“And this is the nature of this beast, that he feareth no kind of weapon except a stone, for, if a stone be cast at him, he presently falleth downe to avoide the stroke, for it is saide that in that place of his body where he is wounded by a stone, there are bred certaine wormes which doe kill and destroie him.... As the Lyon is afraide of a white Cocke and a Mouse, so is the wolfe of a Sea crab, or shrimp. It is said that the pipe of Pithocaris did represse the violence of wolves when they set upon him, for he sounded the same unperfectly, and indistinctly, at the noise whereof the raging wolfe ran away; and it hath bin beleeved that the voice of a singing man or woman worketh the same effect.
“Concerning the enimies of wolves, there is no doubt but that such a ravening beast hath fewe friends, ... for this cause, in some of the inferiour beasts their hatred lasteth after death, as many Authors have observed; for, if a sheepe skinne be hanged up with a wolves’s skin, the wool falleth off from it, and, if an instrument be stringed with stringes made of both these beasts the one will give no sounde in the presence of the other.”
Here we have had all the bad qualities of the Wolf depicted in glowing colours; but, as a faithful historian, I must show him also under his most favourable aspect—notably in two instances—one the she-wolf that suckled Romulus and Remus, and the other who watched so tenderly over the head of the Saxon Edmund, King and Martyr, after it had been severed from his body by the Danes, and contemptuously thrown by them into a thicket.
His mourning followers found the body, but searched for some time for the head, without success; although they made the woods resound with their cries of “Where artow, Edward?” After a few days’ search, a voice answered their inquiries, with “Here, here, here.” And, guided by the supernatural voice, they came upon the King’s head, surrounded by a glory, and watched over, so as to protect it from all harm—by a WOLF! The head was applied deftly to the body, which it joined naturally; indeed, so good a job was it, that the junction could only be perceived by a thin red, or purple, line.
It must be said of this wolf, that he was thorough, for not content with having preserved the head of the Saintly King from harm, he meekly followed the body to St. Edmund’s Bury, and waited there until the funeral; when he quietly trotted back, none hindering him, to the forest.
Were-Wolves.
But of all extraordinary stories connected with the Wolf, is the belief which existed for many centuries, (and in some parts of France still does exist, under the form of the “Loup-garou,”) and which is mentioned by many classical authors—Marcellus Sidetes, Virgil, Herodotus, Pomponius Mela, Ovid, Pliny, Petronius, &c.—of men being able to change themselves into wolves. This was called Lycanthropy, from two Greek