The Beast of Gévaudan
I think we're overdue, by a few years, for a tale of another strange creature. Though this one may not be as chatty as our Gef the Mongoose from way back in the early days of this podcast.
I learned about the strange, deadly creature known as The Beast of Gevaudan through my job, that it's the story on which an upcoming book is based and of course my HEX research radar went off. The Beast was thought, at one point, to be a werewolf, and by coincidence, I just wrote a werewolf book because werewolves are fucking cool and deserve more attention in media, especially books.
Ready for a weird story?
Gévaudan no longer exists. It was a province in the southern part of France (consisting of the modern-day department of Lozère and part of Haute-Loire), in the Margeride Mountains.
Gévaudan existed from roughly 1096 to 1790. In the 16th century, it was a very wealthy area of France, but multiple religious wars decimated the area. The Huguenots settled in the area around 1550.
The Huguenots were a religious group of French Protestants who held to the Reformed (Calvinist) tradition of Protestantism. They went to war with Catholics in the area many times during the later half of the 16th century.
Outside of the religious wars, Gévaudan didn't gain much attention until a series of strange, deadly attacks between 1764 and 1767. Considering the time period in which this happened, news would have traveled by word of mouth or letters, meaning eye witness reports were even more scattered and inaccurate (it's not like they had iPhones back then).
The Beast of Gévaudan attacked for the first time, according to written reports, in the summer of 1764. A young woman was watching over cattle near the Mercoire Forest (near the town of Langogne, eastern part of the province), when she saw a creature, "like a wolf, yet not a wolf" come at her. The bulls in the pasture weren't having it, so they charged and the beast took off. That young woman got lucky, because several days later, on June 30, 14-year-old Jeanne Boulet was killed near the village of Les Hubacs, also in that same area. On July 1, she was buried without sacraments because she could not confess before her death (which is messed up).
Interestingly, the death certificate for Jeanne notes that she was killed by "the ferocious beast". Words mean things, y'all, and saying the instead of a ferocious beast tends to indicate poor Jeanne wasn't the first victim of this thing, but the first declared. We have copies of her death certificate and proof that her death was reported in the parish registers of Saint-Etienne-de-Lugdares. She might have been the first recorded or declared death at the hands of the Beast (claws? hands?), but even at this point, people involved noted the wounds were barbaric. "The victims were not simply killed by an animal for food. The monster lacerated their bodies with such violence that it could not simply come from a feeding instinct but from a desire to inflict pain
On August 8, a second victim fell to the beast. She was also 14 years old and lived in a nearby hamlet. Both victims were killed in what was known as the Allier valley.
Between the end of August and through September, more victims were recorded in the Mercoire Forest or nearby. And through the remainder of 1764, more attacks were reported in the region. Terror spread quickly through the populace and people noticed that the attacks seemed to happen on lone victims who were tending livestock around the province. The registers in which the deaths were recorded used the word "Bête", or French for "beast". As time went on, the word turned into "bestia"...Latin for "monster".
"Reports note that the beast seemed only to target the victim's head or neck regions. Some witnesses claimed the beast had supernatural abilities. They believed it could walk on its hind legs and feet like humans. They believed the beast performed astounding leaps. They also believed the beast could repel bullets and come back from the dead after being struck and wounded."
Eyewitness reports noted some strange features of the creature: "red fur, a black stripe along its back, and a long tail. Following the descriptions, its eyes were reddish and evil, and it could walk on its back legs like a human. The sounds coming from the creature resembled no others. The animal was fast; it could run up to 25 miles in a single day."
The beast's victims were often left partly eaten or even dismembered. "Sometimes missing limbs or heads were found several dozen yards away from the body…"
Consider the area these attacks were happening in - full of mostly illiterate, highly religious/Christian peasants carving out a life from a heavily wooded area far removed from the civility of Paris and the French court. People were easily frightened into not going outside or sending their children to tend the fields. And no one dared to go out at night.
By the end of 1764, it was rumored there was more than one beast - a pair. Because of the high number of attacks in such a short span of time and some of the attacks were reported to happen almost simultaneously. Modern historians wonder if the beast had brought its young with it, to teach them how to hunt, which would attribute for some of the details in the sightings.
By this point, at the very end of 1764, everyone's freaking out, and this is when the Bishop of Mende, Gabriel-Florent de Choiseul-Beaupre (also the Count of Gévaudan), puts out a call to the populace basically saying to pray and repent and all would be well. I'm noting this because this appeal is recorded under the name "commandment of the Bishop of Mende", which all the priests of the diocese had to announce to their congregations.
"He quoted Saint Augustine in evoking the 'justice of God', as well as the Bible and the divine threats uttered by Moses: 'I will arm the teeth of wild beasts against them'. Following this commandment, prayers of Forty Hours' Devotion were observed for three consecutive Sundays."
Given how well "thoughts and prayers" seems to work in the wake of tragedy, the attacks continued. On January 12, 1765, a teenager named Jacques Portefaix and 7 children from the village of Villaret were attacked multiple times; they managed to survive by staying together to drive it off. This encounter is notable as it brought the attacks to the attention of King Louis XV, who awarded Portefaix and the children money and gave Portefaix the chance to earn an education at the state's expense. The King also said that he would throw in support to help find and kill the beast. But that support took months to muster, and so more attacks happened. On February 11, a 12-year-old girl was buried who had been "partly devoured" by the beast.
By spring 1765, most of Europe had heard of the beast and the deadly attacks. The English took the chance to make fun of the French by saying the royal powers that be couldn't even save their people from a "simple animal".
The first military presence to show up in Gévaudan was Captain Duhamel of the Clermont Prince dragoons, along with a contingent of his men. The Captain was "zealous in his efforts" to find and kill the beast, and several missed shots toward the thing, they still couldn't kill it. At one point, Duhamel and his men put on dresses to lure the beast out, since they had noted that most of the attacks were on girls and women. It's reported that "twenty to thirty-thousand men were enrolled to hunt down the beast" (I'm very dubious of this claim, only because that number seems absurd), but it always escaped.
Tired of failure, the King sent two professional wolf hunters, Jean Charles Marc Antoined Vaumesle d'Enneval and his son, Jean-François. This pushed Duhamel out of the area, and he returned to his headquarters; the Captain and Jean Charles did not work well together and had very different strategies. Duhamel sent out huge groups of men with guns to find the beast, while Jean Charles and his son used more stealthy techniques.
When Jean Charles and his son arrived, they also brought eight bloodhounds trained in wolf hunting, and over the next four months, they hunted wolves and took down many. But the attacks continued. They were replaced by the King in June 1765 by a man named François Antoine, the king's sole arquebus bearer and lieutenant of the Hunt.
For those of us with historical knowledge of guns or who have played too many video games, an arquebus (image) is a "form of long gun that appeared in Europe and the Ottoman Empire during the 15th century. It was considered deadly at up to 400 yards, and it had a faster rate of fire than the most powerful crossbow at the time. It was also incredibly loud and the shot could penetrate a metal cuirass.
So this guy? Total badass, and a hell of a shot. He also worked with a small group of hunters, mostly court gamekeepers and 4 male wolfhounds. The attacks had not stopped during all these changes in hunters going after the beast, and one of the more gruesome ones involved a 13-year-old girl who was devoured WHILE her male companion tried to fight it off. When the boy ran back to the village for help and took several men to the site of the attack, all they found was a headless corpse and most of the girl's flesh had been eaten.
Now with François Antoine in charge, the hunt changed. He managed to find two sets of tracks near an attack on a cowherder, and he noted that one set was larger than the other, indicating that the beast might have a mate. Of course the entire family would have to be destroyed.
On August 11, 1765, Antoine learned of another attack, but this time, both victims survived because one of them, 20-year-old Marie-Jeanne Vallet, stabbed the beast with the bayonet on a musket she was carrying (likely in case of this very event), and the beast took off for the river, then disappeared into the woods. Antoine went to the scene and found the blood trail but no beast.
Then, around September 20, Antoine managed to kill a large grey wolf, one that was rather oversized compared to others.
"Antoine officially stated: "We declare by the present report signed from our hand, we never saw a big wolf that could be compared to this one. Hence, we believe this could be the fearsome beast that caused so much damage." The animal was further identified as the culprit by several attack survivors, who recognised the scars on its body inflicted by victims defending themselves.[1] Among them were Marie-Jeanne Vallet and her sister." The beast was named "The Wolf of Chazes", after the region in which it had been killed, and Antoine strapped the corpse to his horse and rode off for Paris. He had it stuffed and mounted and arrived at Versailles on October 1 to much acclaim and a cash prize from the King. He did go back to the area later in October to hunt down any other creatures related to the beast, and he managed to slay a female wolf and its pup; it was reported the pup was larger than the mother. When examining the younger wolf, it was noted that it appeared to have a double set of dewclaws.
So is the beast dead?
Not so much.
By the end of 1765, rumors were spreading that the beast, or one of its kin, was killing again. On December 2, two boys (6 and 12 years old) were attacked, with the beast trying to cart away the 6-year-old boy. The older boy fought it off. More attacks happened, on people and cattle, and it is reported that were at least a dozen more deaths.
Interestingly, the King seemed to think the issue resolved and told the newspapers that his arquebus bearer had indeed slayed the Beast, so they no longer reported any attacks in the Gévaudan region.
In March 1766, the attacks multiplied. The locals knew the court wouldn't save them this time, so they enlisted help from the local nobles, who actually stepped up. One of them suggested poisoning any dog corpses and carrying those to spots where attacks had occurred, hoping the beast would eat the carrion and fall to the poison. It was ineffective, as were the many hunts arranged, and the attacks kept happening. According to reports, the beast seemed more cautious now, and by the beginning of 1767, the attack rate went way down.
The killing of the creature the eventually marked the end of the attacks is credited to a local hunter named Jean Chastel, who shot it at the slopes of Mont Mouchet (now called la Sogne d'Auvers) during a hunt organized by the Marquis d'Apchier on 19 June 1767. The story then told about the slaying of the beast involves a pious Chastel, large-caliber bullets made by melting down medals of the Virgin Mary. (This tale is a literary invention by the French writer Henri Pourrat, but it was quite popular among the villagers even 100 years later. It's all bullshit.)
But Chastel DID kill a large wolf-like beast, whose corpse was brought to a surgeon named Dr. Boulanger.
"Dr. Boulanger's post-mortem report was transcribed by the royal notary Roch Étienne Marin and is known as the "Marin Report" on the beast; the results of the examination were consistent with a large wolf or wolf-dog, but the remains were incomplete by the time Boulanger acquired them, precluding conclusive identification of the animal. The beast was then exhibited at the château, where the Marquis d'Apcher lavishly received crowds, which thronged to see the remains. Numerous testimonies from victims of attacks enriched the Marin Report. The beast stayed in Besque for a dozen days."
The beast's remains were buried in an unknown location (because they were rotting and that's absolutely disgusting to keep around). The king never acknowledged Chastel as the beast's killer, but the story lives on to this day.
The Autopsy
The autopsy done by Dr. Boulanger is held by the French National Archives, and it has some startling details. "This animal which seemed to us to be a wolf; But extraordinary and very different by its figure and its proportions from the wolves that one sees in this country.
The report also details the dental formula. The upper jaw consists of 20 teeth: 6 incisors, 2 canines and 12 molars; the lower jaw has 22: 6 incisors, 2 canines and 14 molars. This likely points to a canid. The document also describes the animal's wounds and scars. Finally, it includes the testimonies of several people who recognised it."
Autopsy Files
Report of the examination of the animal's body addressed to the intendant of Auvergne on 20 June 1767. French National Archives, AE/II/2927.
Wolf attacks were a big problem during the beast's reign, and before and after. People were pushing into wild areas where wolves had dominated for so long, and they brought with them easy prey like sheep, cattle, and children. It's estimated that wolf attacks caused as many as 9,000 deaths across France between the end of the 16th century and the beginning of the 19th
And there are theories about what the beast really was, of course: that it was actually a lion or hyena that escaped a noble's menagerie, that a large feral dog or wolfdog was responsible. Even in 2021, a historian inferred that the beast was actually an Italian wolf.
But with such an unsatisfactory ending, the mystery remains, leaving the story ripe for reinterpretation by authors and filmmakers. It's a Grimm fairy tale wrapped in the paranoia of the time, buoyed by religious fervor and a lack of education.
So what was the Beast of Gévaudan? Your guess is as good as mine, but it's a hell of a story.