St Francis and the Wolf of Gubbio

In 2026, Italy marks 800 years since the death of St Francis of Assisi, one of the country’s most enduring and recognisable figures. We look at one of the most famous tales associated with Francis, that of the Wolf of Gubbio.

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While Francis is closely associated with Umbria, his ideas shaped spiritual life across medieval Italy, including Florence. His legacy is not found only in churches and frescoes, but in stories that continue to resonate centuries later. Among the most famous is the tale of the Wolf of Gubbio.

Whether the story is historically exact has never been its real point. What matters is how it reflects St Francis’s view of the world, a vision rooted in harmony between people, nature and God’s creation.

The story of the Wolf of Gubbio

In the early 13th century, Gubbio was said to be terrorised by a fierce wolf that attacked livestock and even townspeople. Fear had emptied the streets, and the animal was treated as a monster to be destroyed.

According to The Little Flowers of Saint Francis, a 14th-century collection of stories about the saint, Francis chose a different approach. He walked outside the town to meet the wolf himself. When the animal charged at him, mouth open and ready to attack, Francis made the sign of the cross and spoke calmly. He called the animal “Brother Wolf” and commanded him, in the name of Christ, to do no harm.

The story tells that the wolf stopped instantly. Its aggression fell away, and it approached Francis gently, lying at his feet. The language is symbolic rather than literal, but the message is clear. Francis does not dominate through force. He disarms fear through recognition, naming the wolf not as an enemy, but as a fellow creature.

Francis then addresses the real problem. He tells the wolf that his violence has caused suffering, but he also recognises hunger as its driving force. He proposes a pact. The people of Gubbio will feed the wolf regularly, and in return the wolf will no longer harm humans or animals. The wolf bows its head in agreement, and later seals the promise by placing its paw in Francis’s hand, a gesture that becomes the emotional centre of the story.

The townspeople, watching in disbelief, agree to their part of the bargain. Fear gives way to relief, then to celebration. The wolf lives peacefully in Gubbio for two years, moving freely among the houses, accepted rather than hunted. When it finally dies of old age, the people grieve, having come to see it not as a threat, but as part of their shared life.

For modern visitors, especially those travelling through Florence and central Italy, the story offers more than a charming legend. It captures a medieval worldview that still feels surprisingly relevant. Francis reminds us that conflict often grows from unmet needs, and that peace begins with listening rather than punishment.

As Florence and Italy reflect this anniversary year through art, architecture and memory, the story of the Wolf of Gubbio stands as a reminder of why Francis still matters. He asked people to look again at what they feared, and to imagine coexistence where none seemed possible.