Peter Stubbe: Werewolf

Peter Stubbe belongs in any thorough examination of the accounts of mediaeval monstrosity; his sordid career was an example of unparalleled perversity, capped by a hideous abomination to his own son that leave little doubt as to the fact that, somewhere within his icy heart, the Devil did, indeed, in some form lurk.

Peter Stubbe had been afflicted, since his earliest days, with the reputation of being a monstrous lad, given to thievery, bestiality, and a sullen, sordid countenance that did not win him many friends. By the time adulthood beckoned him, Stubbe was already a novice practitioner of the “black arts”.

Stubbe was apparently successful in his attempt to conjure up the living Devil, and was able to secure with him a pact in which, for the price of his mortal soul, Stubbe was to be endowed with the power to transform himself into a blood-crazed, ravening wolf. The means for this transformation was provided by a leather belt which would accomplish the metamorphosis as soon as it was donned by the wearer.

Whatever one believes about the objective reality of Stubbes’ magical device, “lycanthropy” (or so the particular mental disorder wherein men believe they possess the capacity to change into wolves is called) is an actual cataloged form of psychosis; albeit, a mercifully rare one. Stubbe was, at the very least, suffering from this particular mental malady, and under its repressive influence enacted horrors sufficient to make a Marquis De Sade wince a little.

His reign of terror stretched a mind-boggling quarter of a century, wherein he indulged in a sickening career of rape, mutilation, defilement, and murder of both his enemies, and complete strangers; men, women, and children, alike.

Certainly one of his most barbaric recorded acts was the murder of his own son, accomplished by brutally ripping the lad apart with his teeth, after which he spilt the skull open, and ate the still-pulsing brain.

His preferred method of dispatching with victims was to lurk in the skin of his totem animal, the wolf, and then pounce upon an unwary traveler that happened by. He was then free to chew through the throat, rip sections from the body to devour, as he slowly worked himself to the pinnacle of his satanic ecstasy.

This was a ritual he was well-accustomed to, having performed scores of similar murders, and having the good fortune to have escaped discovery, and even suspicion for more years than even he probably believed, would have been possible.
A telling anecdote concerning the way in which he operated comes down to us in the story of three victims, two men and a woman, who, while coming home through the forest near Stubbes’ cottage, heard a rustling in the bushes. When one of the men went into the bushes to investigate, Stubbe made short work of him.

After a few moments the second man went in to the dark concealment alongside the road, and likewise, did not return. The woman, at this point growing more and more hysterical, began to run as fast her legs permitted. Alas, it was to no avail.

Stubbe easily overtook her in his “wolf” form , and devoured her body. He battened on this particular victim to such an extent that no remains were ever recovered.

Stubbe likewise had a daughter, Beell Stubbe (all young women readers should feel themselves lucky not to have been burdened with such a grotesque moniker) , who at a young age became her father’s chief source of sexual gratification. Assuming there ever were any offspring, one can well-imagine that they were dispatched in much the same manner as Stubbes’ other victims; in that respect, perhaps, they were luckier than his other prey: for surely death would be preferable to life as the son of Peter Stubbe.

The area around Cologne had frequently worked to apprehend the long-time fiend by means of manhunts and packs of trained dogs, but had hitherto not had any real luck. Finally however , fate did smile upon them; it merely frowned at Stubbe himself, who was busily dispatching yet another in his seemingly-endless succession of victims when the pack of hunting dogs and their eager masters finally discovered the object of their investigation.

It was short work capturing Stubbe and bringing him back to the town of Bedburg to stand before the magistrates, who found themselves befuddled at the motivation behind such a long-running series of atrocities. A short turn for Stubbe on the rack cleared up much of their confusion, as he quickly confessed to his pact with Satan, his use of the magical belt, and his decades-long bloodbath which, finally, was brought to a swift, if agonizing end.

Apart from his daughter Beell, Stubbe possessed another paramour, a luckless harlot by the name of Katherine Trompin, who as much as his daughter, had acted for years as Stubbes’ accomplice. The women were quickly rounded up, pronounced guilty, tortured, and burned alive.

Fro Stubbe, it was decided that more ghastly, and altogether fitting punishment was in order. He was tied to a wheel, over a slow-roasting fire, while long, blazing pincers were employed to strip off pieces of his flesh. These were then tossed to mongrel dogs, and quickly devoured. Lastly, an axe handle was used to fracture his joints. Excruciating.

He was then beheaded, and his head placed upon a pike with a picture of a wolf and, below, the wheel upon which his mortal form had been broken. His remains (sans head) were then burned at the stake, and the ashes tossed in a garbage heap.

As for the magical belt, despite the best efforts of curious searchers, it was never recovered from the woods in which it was dropped by Stubbe moments before he was apprehended. Locals felt that the only explanation was that Satan had come back to reclaim his property.

The Devil, it was believed, was always loath to part with something useful.