Oliver Pötzsch - The Werewolf of Bamberg

Confess, witch, confess.

The old man had been the fifth.

But his greatest satisfaction was yet to come. For a long time he’d been waiting to carry out his boldest plan. It couldn’t be much longer.

Just three. .

The man listened intently and could hear a long howling coming from the forest across the river. It was like a greeting of closeness, of intimacy-of home. Something he’d never experienced before.

The wolves were accepting the man as one of their own.

MAIN ROOM OF THE BAMBERG HANGMAN’S HOUSE, MORNING, OCTOBER 30, 1668 AD

The next morning, the Kuisls sat around the table in the hangman’s house, spooning from a large communal bowl the warm barley porridge Magdalena had made for them earlier. The wedding was only four days off, and until then, everyone had their own daily chores to do to help in the preparations.

Bartholomäus and Georg had already been down to the city moat, where the Bamberg City Council had given the executioner the thankless task of shoveling out garbage that had been clogging the moat-a job responsibility that Bartholomäus hated even more than the occasional torturing of criminals. Jakob had promised to help him that day, but first there were a few loose shingles in the adjoining shed that had to be replaced. Magdalena planned to bake bread for the week with Barbara, while Katharina had to help her father with his paperwork at city hall.

The two boys were, for a change, playing tag peacefully with a few of the neighboring children outside in the alley, so the Schongau Kuisls could enjoy some quiet moments together for the first time in a long while-even though Georg was absent, and there seemed to be trouble brewing.

Magdalena blew onto her wooden spoon to cool the porridge a bit, though her mind was occupied with thoughts of the strange man her father had tried to catch the night before. Finally, Jakob had turned up, soaking wet and without his coat, by the furrier’s house, and Magdalena could tell from the way he looked that even the slightest query would make him explode like gunpowder-so she’d held her tongue.

“You still haven’t told us why you ran after that stranger,” she finally asked. “You were frozen when you got back here yesterday, and you’re lucky you didn’t come down with a cold.” She shook her head. “Falling into the river, at your age. Besides, your overcoat cost a lot of money. Do you know-”

“When I need a nurse, I’ll tell you,” Kuisl snorted angrily. “You’re worse than my beloved Anna used to be, God rest her soul.” For a moment he stared into space, then continued, speaking quickly. “But I will tell you what happened yesterday. The furrier described a man to me who’d bought five wolf skins from him last week, and this description seemed to match very closely the man who was watching you.”

Magdalena frowned. “Wolf skins? But why-”

“There are too many werewolf stories going around town now to suit my taste,” Kuisl interrupted. “When someone goes out and buys five wolf pelts, I get suspicious, especially when he tries to run away from me. I’d like to know what he’s doing with them. Perhaps he’s making himself a big coat, a coat he can hide under-”

“Just a minute,” said Simon, putting down his spoon. “Do you think this fellow bought the fur so he could dress up as a werewolf? But why would he do that?”

“To spread fear in the city? So no one recognizes him when he goes out to murder people? I don’t know.” Kuisl shrugged, then started rummaging in the pocket of his trousers, looking for his tobacco pouch. “Perhaps there really is a werewolf causing trouble around here. I’ve heard that some of them clothe themselves in pelts in order to look like animals.”

“So you believe in werewolves?” Simon asked skeptically.

“I’ve seen so many evil and crazy things in my life-so why shouldn’t there be werewolves as well? Or at least men who seriously believe they’re werewolves.” Jakob opened his tobacco pouch and began filling his pipe with the dry leaves.

“Lots of poor creatures live in the forests,” he continued. “Crazy people rejected by society who are more animal than human. Long ago, I had to break a man on the wheel who’d lived in the forest since childhood. During the great famine of ’49, he began hunting people to kill and eat them, especially children who’d run away from home. Their flesh was the most tender, he confessed later on the rack. Was he a werewolf?” Jakob picked up a burning piece of kindling to light his pipe and began puffing with enjoyment. “I don’t know. But in any case, he was a danger to people, and for that reason had to be put down.

“Here in Bamberg, the case is not as clear,” he continued. “I’m afraid this werewolf commission under our unholy prince-bishop will simply pick up some random person and have him tortured, just to find someone to blame.” Simon had already told them about the first meeting of the commission the night before, and the commission’s intention of finding an alleged perpetrator and dispatching him without any further ado.

Jakob grinned. “Good for Bartholomäus. Maybe he’ll have his new hangman’s house earlier than he’d even dreamed of.”

“You are disgusting, Father. How can you even say something like that about your own brother?”

Astonished, Magdalena looked over at the bench in the corner where Barbara sat. Until then, she’d been sitting silently, as if daydreaming and paying no attention to the conversation. Since the night before, Magdalena thought she’d detected a faint smile now and then on the lips of her little sister. Barbara hadn’t told her much about the performance with Matheo and the other actors, but that wasn’t necessary. Afterward, she’d been gone for a long time, and Magdalena thought she knew with whom. Until then, she’d told only Simon about her suspicions, and he’d cast a knowing look in her direction.

Now the smile was gone from Barbara’s face. “Georg is right,” she continued angrily, glaring at her father. “Ever since we’ve been here in Bamberg, you’ve been saying mean things about your brother. What did he do to you? You. . you’re just jealous because he’s more successful. And because, unlike you, he found another wife.”

Jakob slapped her hard on the cheek, and though she didn’t cry, Magdalena could tell she was having trouble holding back her tears.

“You don’t talk to your father like that, understand?” he growled. “Not you, and not your impudent brother, either. What do you know about Bartholomäus and me?”

“Yes, what do we know?” Magdalena said in a soft voice. “Actually, nothing, because you don’t tell us anything.”

“And that’s the way it’s going to be. Don’t poke your nose into things that are none of your business. And now, I’m going over to the moat to help your accursed uncle shovel shit. That’s better than sitting here and listening to you going on and on.”

Jakob was just about to get up from the table when the door flew open with a loud crash. Georg was standing in the doorway, completely out of breath.

“They. . got him,” he panted.

“Who did they get?” Magdalena asked, puzzled.

“Well, who else? The werewolf,” Georg replied, his eyes flashing. “I saw with my own eyes how the guards led him away. They found his wolf pelt, and a few citizens recognized him, too. But they say he won’t confess. Uncle Bartholomäus and I are going to put the screws to him as soon as possible.”

Barbara put her hand to her mouth. “Oh, my God! Who is it?” she asked anxiously.

Georg grinned. “One of that group of actors, by the name of Matheo-a little Italian-looking guy. If you ask me, I knew right away that something was fishy about those actors.”