The Beast of Cusago (la Bestia feroce), Duchy of Milan

The summer of 1792. Milan and its countryside belonged to the Austrian Habsburg Duchy of Milan. West of the city lay Cusago, six miles out, beside an extensive forest between the Naviglio and the road to Novara. It was not the first time Milan had feared a beast. Earlier scares were remembered from 1462, 1528, 1575, 1656 and 1679.

Early July. Ten-year-old Giuseppe Antonio Gaudenzio went into the Cusago woods to look for a lost cow. He did not come back. All that was found was a small jacket, bloodstained trousers, a hat and some remains.

9 July. Limbiate. Eight-year-old Carlo Oca was seized by the throat and dragged into the woods. The next day, near Corbetta, six-year-old Giuseppa Suracchi was taken on the road to Cascina Pobbia while walking with her sister. Through August the names kept coming. Antonia Maria Beretta at Senago. Giovanna Sada at Arluno. Regina Mosca at San Siro. Anna Maria Borghi at Barlassina. Giuseppa Re at Bareggio. Maria Antonia Rimoldi at Terrazzano. Some lived. Twelve-year-old Dionigi Giussano was attacked at Trenno and saved by a farmer.

The witnesses were children and farmers. A farmer from Desio gave measurements. About two braccia long and a braccio and a half high, like an ordinary-sized calf. But the head resembled a pig's. The ears, a horse's. Long whitish goat-like hair under the belly. Other accounts add reddish fur on top, thin legs, large feet, long claws, a broad chest and slim flanks. The children remembered a big head with big ears, a pointed snout, large teeth and a thick, curly tail. The chronicle of the time called it an ugly beast, like a big dog, but horrible-looking and strangely shaped. Some peasants believed it was no natural animal at all, but an infernal spirit.

14 July. The government offered a reward, later raised from 50 to 150 zecchini. People were told not to travel alone or unarmed. On 20 August the case passed to Cesare Beccaria, author of Dei delitti e delle pene and now a Habsburg official. He chose traps over armed hunts. Two priests, Filippo Rapazzini and Giuseppe Comerio, designed them. Wooden palisades, live bait inside, a door that dropped like a guillotine. The Church held three days of prayer at Santa Maria delle Grazie.

September. A wolf was caught. The sources disagree on where and when. Porta Vercellina or Cascina Pobbia. The 13th, or as late as the 24th. Several accounts say it was beaten and hanged. No attacks followed. In early October it was officially declared to be the Beast. An autopsy found scarred legs, worn canines, kidney disease and a knotted hemp rope in its stomach.

Not everyone was convinced. Many witnesses shown the trapped wolf said it was not the Beast. Others said it might be. The authorities had first suspected something stranger. Bartolomeo Cappellini, a travelling showman, had shown two live hyenas in Milan. He later turned up in Cremona with only one, gave conflicting stories and left for the Veneto. Nothing ever proved the link. Inspector Borri, the hunting inspector, thought it was a common wolf. The historian Mario Comincini treats the attacks as real, the work of a wolf that ate people, one chapter in a long history across northern Italy.

The wolf was stuffed and put on show near the Duomo, at 10 soldi a head. Then it was sold for 12 zecchini to the natural history museum of the University of Pavia. Where it is today, nobody knows. Italian writers still call this Italy's Beast of Gévaudan.