A priest was journeying from Ulster to Meath accompanied only by a single youth when they were benighted in a wood.
They had kindled a fire when a huge wolf approached them and spoke, telling the travellers to fear nothing. The priest adjured him by all that was sacred not to do them harm and begged him to say “what creature it was that in the shape of a beast uttered human words.”
” There are two of us, a man and a woman, natives of Ossory, who, through the curse of one Natalis, saint and abbot, are compelled every seven years to put off their human form and assume that of wolves. At the end of seven years, if they chance to survive, two others being substituted, they return to their former shape. Now, she who is my partner in this visitation Hes dangerously sick not far from hence. I beseech you, inspired by divine charity, to give her the consolations of your priestly office.”
The priest followed the mysterious speaker into the thicket and performed the rites of the Church over the dying she-wolf, as far as the last Communion. But the wolf was not satisfied, and begged him to complete his ood offices. The priest said this was impossible as he was not provided with the wherewithal for giving the viaticum.
Then the man-wolf pointed to the priest’s neck, suspended round which he carried a missal and consecrated wafers, entreating him not to deny the aid provided by Divine Providence. To remove the priest’s doubts he tore off the she-wolf’s skin and exposed the body of an old woman. The last Communion having been given, the wolf replaced the skin and reverently thanked the priest for the benefit which he had conferred.
The Man-Wolves of Ossory
By Patrick Weston Joyce
The Wonders of Ireland (1911)
In the dim days of yore, the people of the kingdom of Ossory had the power of changing themselves into wolves whenever they pleased.
During the whole time that an Ossorian lived as a wolf, his own proper body remained at home as if he were dead: and when about to make a wolf of himself he gave strict orders to his friends not to disturb the body; for if it were removed he was never able to regain his own shape, but was doomed to remain a wolf for the rest of his natural life.
While he was in his wolf-shape he ravaged sheep-folds and devoured cattle, and was in every respect as fierce and bloodthirsty as any natural-born wolf.
And if you came on him suddenly and attacked him in the act of eating a sheep, he commonly ran straight home and resumed his own shape.
But although he was now, when you confronted him, a man, and looked as innocent as a lamb, yet if you insisted on examining him closely, you found on him all the marks and tokens of his savage feast:—splashes of blood here and there, and bits of raw flesh in his teeth; and the wounds you inflicted on the wolf, you found them fresh and bleeding on the
corresponding parts of the man’s body.
This extraordinary superstition prevailed in Ireland from very remote times; for we find it alluded to in the “Book of the Dun Cow,” a volume /transcribed/ about the year 1100, but whose contents belong to a much earlier age.
In this old book there is a sermon on the Resurrection, in which the writer mentions several kinds of supernatural changes, for the purpose of pointing out that the Resurrection shall be different from them all; and among them he mentions the transformation of a man into a wolf. The superstition held its ground for many centuries; and how very generally it was received as an undoubted fact is shown by its frequent mention in old writings, as well indeed as by the language of those who argue against it.
Fynes Moryson, writing in or about the year 1600, speaks of it in these words:—
“It is ridiculous which some Irish (who will be believed as men of
credit) report of men in these parts [Upper Ossory and Ormond] turned
into wolves, except the abundance of melancholy humour transports them
to imagine that they are so transformed.”
A circumstance so wonderful could not escape the notice of Giraldus Cambrensis and he firmly believed it, as he was ready to believe every other marvellous story. He devotes a whole chapter to it, which he heads “Of the prodigies of our times, and first of a wolf that conversed with a priest,” at the end of which he has a learned argument to prove that it
was not unusual for men to be transformed into other animals; and to remove all doubt he gives examples of several supernatural transformations witnessed in his time.
He says that he himself saw persons who by magic arts could change, and often did change, an ordinary object, such as a stone or a clod of earth, into a fat pig. It was a common practice with these rogues to raise money by driving a pig extemporised in this way, to the nearest market; and of course they generally disposed of them without delay, for
they could well afford to undersell the owners of real honest pigs.
These counterfeit pigs were always of a red colour; if they crossed a stream of water they returned at once to their own shape—stick or stone as it might be—under the very eyes of the unfortunate purchaser; and in any case they never retained their pig-shape longer than three days.
Giraldus also reminds us that in his own day there were many old women in Scotland and Wales, as well as in Ireland, who were in the habit of turning themselves into hares and running about the country at night sucking the teats of cows.
And here we are forced to acknowledge that he is corroborated by several Irish story-tellers of much later times, down even to the present day, who relate many curious stories of old women turning themselves into hares, and of some who were pursued by huntsmen and hounds and were caught almost in the very act of returning to their own shape.
And after regaining the old-woman shape the wounds inflicted by the hounds were still on the corresponding parts of their bodies, raw and bleeding, as in the case of the man-wolves above mentioned.
The account given by Giraldus of the Ossorian wolf-transformation is somewhat different from that which we find in our own ancient writings.
According to him there were always two of the Ossory people—a man and a woman—passing their lives in the shape of wolves: each couple remained so for seven years, at the end of which time, if they lived so long, they were permitted to return to their home and another pair took their place.
It appears moreover—according to Giraldus—that it was a curse pronounced against the people of Ossory by St. Natalia that brought this dreadful visitation on them; but Giraldus does not inform us what it was that moved the anger of the saint.
Giraldus is never wanting in a good story when it goes to confirm his statements; and he has here a very circumstantial one about a wolf who conversed with a priest three years before earl John’s visit to Ireland.
This priest, who was on his way southwards from Ulster, was benighted in a wood on the borders of Meath.
He and a young lad who was his companion lighted a fire under a large tree where they intended to pass the night; and as they were sitting and watching by their fire, a wolf came up and spoke to them in very good Gaelic, telling them not to be in the least afraid, and that they need not run away, for there was no danger.
The travellers were of course astonished and frightened beyond measure; but after some further conversation, they became convinced that the visitor was really a man in the shape of a wolf.
Giraldus then goes on to recount particulars of the interview, among them a relation about the administration of sacraments which is too revolting to be transferred to these pages.
The wolf remained at the fire with them during the night, conducting himself with propriety and good sense, and in all respects—except shape—like a man.
In the morning he led them to the verge of the wood and pointed out the straight road for a long distance.
Before resuming his journey the priest (who it must be remembered was an Irishman) inquired from the wolf whether the hostile people (the Anglo-Normans) who had lately landed in Ireland would hold the country for any length of time. To which the wolf (who was also of course an /Irishman/) replied, in a tone of great piety:—
“The anger of the Lord has fallen on an evil generation; and on account of the sins of our (i.e. the Irish) nation and the monstrous vices of the people, He has given them into the hands of their enemies. This foreign race shall be quite secure and invincible so long as they shall walk in the ways of the Lord and keep His commandments. But we know that
the path leading to sinful pleasures is easy, and human nature is prone to follow evil example; so if this strange people shall hereafter learn our wicked habits from living amongst us, they will no doubt, like us, draw down upon themselves the vengeance of Divine Providence.”
So having finished his sanctimonious speech, he left them to pursue their journey.
It is much to be feared that this last part of the narrative, as well as other particulars which I have omitted, was invented by Giraldus himself for the double pious purpose of favouring his Anglo-Norman friends and having a good hearty slap at the Irish people.
The Kongs Skuggio has this man-wolf story also, not very different from what is related above; but the writer attributes the transformation to St. Patrick, who pronounced the curse against the Ossorians, because when he attempted to preach to them they howled at him like a pack of wolves by a preconcerted arrangement.
The belief in the transformation of human beings into wolves prevailed very widely—almost all over the known world in fact—in ancient times; and it still holds its ground in some countries of northern Europe.
Although however the superstition is now confined within comparatively narrow limits, it is still remembered in the popular legends of nearly every country of Europe; and here most readers will call to mind the horrible German legends of the “werewolf.”
The German were-wolf was a much more atrocious and fiendish animal than our Ossorian man-wolf; for his favourite repast was human flesh torn up from graveyards; whereas Giraldus Cambrensis, who would be only too glad to find a flaw in the behaviour of an Irish wolf, does not record that the Ossorian man-wolves ever did anything worse than devouring a cow or
 Ossory an ancient sub-kingdom comprising the present county Kilkenny and Queen’s County.
 Natalis, called in Irish /Nailè/ [Nawly], is the patron saint of Kilmanagh, west of Kilkenny, and of Killenaule in Tipperary, which last took its name from him (Nawle’s Church: Joyce’s Irish Names of Places, i. 146). He was the son of Aengus mac Natfree king of Munster, and died A.D. 564.
 The Kongs Skuggio has among its wonders an account of the /Gelts/ or Madmen who in lapse of time got covered with a growth of feathers and flitted about on the tops of the trees like so many squirrels. Our Irish writings have full records of these /Gelts/ though they do not class them with the wonders. An account of them will be found in my “Smaller Soc. Hist. of Anc. Ireland” pp. 96, 97), or in my Irish Names of Places under Glannagalt (i. 172).
Of the Prodigies of our Times, and First of a Wolf Which Conversed With a Priest
By Giraldus Cambrensis (1187)
Topography of Ireland. in “The Historical Works of Giraldus Cambrensis,” (1863). Bohn’s Library p. 79 et seq.
I now proceed to relate some wonderful occurrences which have happened within our time. About three years before the arrival of Earl John in Ireland, it chanced that a priest, who was journeying from Ulster towards Meath, was benighted in a certain wood on the borders of Meath. While, in company with only a young lad, he was watching by a fire which he had kindled under the branches of a spreading tree, lo! a wolf came up to them, and immediately addressed them to this effect: “Rest secure, and be not afraid, for there is no reason you should fear, where no fear is!” The travellers being struck with astonishment and alarm, the wolf added some orthodox words referring to God. The priest then implored him, and adjured him by Almighty God and faith in the Trinity, not to hurt them, but to inform them what creature it was that in the shape of a beast uttered human words. The wolf, after giving catholic replies to all questions, added at last, “There are two of us, a man and a woman, natives of Ossory, who, through the curse of one Natalis, saint and abbot, are compelled every seven years to put off the human form, we assume that of wolves. At the end of the seven years, if they chance to survive, two others being substituted in their places, they return to their country and their former shape. And now, she who is my partner in this visitation lies dangerously sick not inspired by divine charity, to give her the consolations of your priestly office.”
At this word the priest followed the wolf trembling, as he led the way to a tree at no great distance, in the hollow of which he beheld a she-wolf, who under that shape was pouring forth human sighs and groans. On seeing the priest, having saluted him with human courtesy, she gave thanks to God, who in this extremity had vouchsafed to visit her with such consolation. She then received from the priest all the rites of the church duly performed, as far as the last communion. This also she importunately demanded, earnestly supplicating him to complete his good offices by giving her the viaticum. The priest stoutly asserted that he was not provided with it, the he-wolf, who had withdrawn to a short distance, came back and pointed out a small missal-book, containing some consecrated wafers, which the priest carried on his journey, suspended from his neck, under his garment, after the fashion of the country. He then intreated him not to deny them the gift of God, and the aid destined for them by Divine Providence, and, to remove all doubt, using his claw for a hand, he tore off the skin of the she-wolf, from the head down to the navel, folding it back. Thus she immediately presented the form of an old woman. The priest, seeing this, and compelled by his fear more than his reason, gave the communion, the recipient having earnestly implored it, and devoutly partaking of it. Immediately afterwards, the he-wolf rolled back the skin, and fitted it to its original form.
These rites having been duly, rather than rightly, performed, the he-wolf gave them his company during the whole night at their little fire, behaving more like a man than a beast. When morning came, he led them out of the wood, and, leaving the priest to pursue his journey, pointed out to him the direct road for a long distance. At his departure, he also gave him many thanks for the benefit he had conferred, promising him still greater returns of gratitude, if the Lord should call him back from his present exile, two parts of which he had already completed. At the close of their conversation, the priest inquired of the wolf whether the hostile race which had now landed in the island would continue there for the time to come, and be long established in it. To which the wolf replied:–“For the sins of our nation, and their enormous vices, the anger of the Lord, falling on an evil generation, hath given them into the hands of their enemies. Therefore, as long as this foreign race shall keep the commandments of the Lord, and walk in his ways, it will be secure and invincible, but if, as the downward path to illicit pleasures is easy, and nature is prone to follow vicious examples, this people shall chance, from living among us, to adopt our depraved habits, doubtless they will provoke the divine vengeance on themselves also” (Otten 57-58).