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| Art by picsfair.com |
The werewolf is a
manifestation of fear in folklore all over the world. Some scholars believe the
werewolf legend got its start in proto–Indo-European times, when warriors wore
the skins of their animal totems. Such intimacy with the spirit of the wolf
leads me to believe that more than fear of the unknown, the werewolf represents
the dread that comes from recognition. In ancient times, and in rural areas
today, wolves come sneaking in the night to kill livestock or babies and often
the only evidence of their presence is a corpse found in the morning. When our
ancestors did catch sight of a wolf, it stirred something deep inside, making
an eerie connection between human and wolf in spite of their eternal
antagonism. Don’t we all have a little wolf in us?
If the werewolf is
universal, what makes the lobisome,
the Galician werewolf, special? Perhaps it’s that in Galicia, a werewolf ended
up in court to answer for his crimes.
Shrouded in ancestral Celtic
lore, Galicia in the northwest is the most mythic region of Spain. On a rocky,
windswept coast, Galicia is pelted by rain that leaves tendrils of mist where
liminal beings, neither man nor wolf, might jump out at any moment to seize a
lonesome traveler.
Manuel Blanco Romasanta
didn’t have to do any jumping. In 1852, he was accused of pretending to be a
guide for several women and their children, sending letters to their families to
let them know that the victims had reached their destination while in reality
killing them and using their fat to make fine tallow soap.
Romasanta is not the only
man to have been accused of the bizarre (yet plausible at the time) tallow soap
accusation. He is, however, the only accused to admit to the crime and present
lycanthropy as a defense.
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| A 2004 film dramatizing the Romasanta case. |
Romasanta was Spain’s
first serial killer on record, but the most interesting aspects of his case are
the ones that have a mythical or folkloric feel. Just as a werewolf is neither
man nor wolf, but both, Romasanta is said to have been raised as a girl until
he was six years old. People perceived him as effeminate throughout his life,
something his short stature (under 4' 11'') probably encouraged. He seems to
have always lived in-between.
Werewolf folklore in
Galicia specifies that the seventh child of any union is likely to be afflicted
with a curse. If the child is a girl, she’s liable to become a witch; if a boy,
a werewolf. The godfather may ward off the curse by saying certain prayers at
the baptism. Generally the curse doesn’t manifest until later in life. An
afflicted werewolf will feel compelled to undress at a crossroads and wallow in
the mud. If a wolf has already wallowed there, the transformation occurs and
the werewolf uncontrollably attacks and eats defenseless people and babies. The
most reliable way to reverse the curse at this point is to take the discarded
clothing and burn it. Given this preoccupation with clothes and how they show
or conceal one’s identity, it’s interesting that Romasanta also worked as a
tailor.
His case was brought to
trial in Allariz in October 1852. Romasanta admitted to killing thirteen people
while in wolf form with two other wolves. According to him, their first spree
lasted five days, and when he returned to his human form, he was surprised to
see that the other wolves were also men, both from Valencia.
When asked to undergo the
transformation in court, Romasanta claimed that his curse had lasted thirteen
years, and the time period was over just the previous week, so he could no
longer transform at all.
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| A page from Romasanta's phrenology report, courtesy Wikimedia Commons. |
The claims were believable
enough that the court ordered an investigation. Using phrenology,
court-appointed doctors concluded that Romasanta displayed no signs of
lycanthropy and that his crimes were committed by choice. The court found
Romasanta guilty of nine of the slayings to which he had confessed and
sentenced him to death. A French hypnotist who had been following the case was
convinced he could cure Romasanta, who was merely suffering from monomania.
After a few unsuccessful appeals, the hypnotist obtained a royal commutation of
the death sentence from Queen Isabel II so Romasanta could be studied.
Unfortunately, Romasanta’s
psychology will always remain a mystery. He died only weeks after his sentence
was commuted. Although his cause of death was likely stomach cancer, there was still
enough belief in the possibility of werewolves that it was rumored Romasanta
was shot by a guard who wanted to see him transform.
Having based his defense
in a myth, Romasanta himself gave rise to a legend: the Sacaúntos, a boogeyman who murders children for their fat, has been
scaring Galician kids into good behavior ever since.
Jessica Knauss earned her PhD in Medieval Spanish with a
dissertation on the portrayal of Alfonso X’s laws in the Cantigas de Santa Maria, which has been
published as the five-star-rated Law
and Order in Medieval Spain. A driven fiction writer, Jessica Knauss has
edited many fine historical novels and is a bilingual freelance editor. Her
historical novel, Seven NobleKnights, will be published in December 2020 by Encircle Publications. Find out more writing and bookish
activities here. Follow her on Facebook and Twitter, too!
