Popular Monster

For three years during the mid-18th century, the people of Gevaudan, France lived in terror. An unknown predator struck with brutal efficiency, attacking and killing farmers, shepherds and travelers, leaving torn and lifeless bodies in its wake.

There were whispers that the predator was some sort of wolf-like creature, unlike anything anyone had ever seen, but no one could be certain.

Communities across the French countryside lived in fear. Parents kept children inside, and residents had weapons ready.

The King of France ordered the beast to be identified and killed.

Soldiers were dispatched. Hunting parties scoured the countryside. For years, the beast evaded them all. The victim numbers were staggering. In the span of just three years, reports estimate the mysterious creature attacked over 200 people, killing more than 100.

The Beast of Gevaudan, as it came to be known, is one of the most thoroughly documented cases of cryptids in history. We are certain that the beast existed. We know it claimed numerous lives. We even possess what is said to be its remains. Yet, amidst all the terror and devastation it caused, one question lingers: what exactly was the Beast of Gevaudan?

It is the summer of 1764 in the rural region of Gevaudan, located in Southern France. The weather is hot and dry, typical for this time of year, but bizarre events start to unfold in the sweltering heat. Livestock begins to vanish as if into thin air.

Then, on June 30th, the first human victim is struck. Fourteen-year-old Jeanne Boulet is attacked and killed by what would later be dubbed the wild ferocious beast. In August, a fifteen-year-old girl and a sixteen-year-old boy fall victim to similar assaults while laboring in the fields.

Four additional fatalities occur that September, including a thirty-six-year-old woman who is murdered on her own doorstep.

Some of the bodies are discovered mutilated, with throats slashed or faces torn away. Most of the victims were women and children, yet no one was truly safe. Whispers of rumors began to spread, but no one could fathom who or what the assailant was. By October, the French military and police had labeled the creature a monster. Survivors recounted their encounters with the predator, describing it as a beast that approached with both ferocity and stealth.

One of the most terrifying and baffling pieces of evidence was a severed skull, cracked and lying distanced from the other remains. The creature's infamy grew and a sense of dread began to spread.

The beast appeared to hunt humans without hesitation, often launching attacks in broad daylight while they were tending to their livestock.

Although eyewitness accounts varied, a consistent pattern emerged: the creature was larger than a wolf and bore a stripe along the back of its red or gray fur. It possessed enormous, sharp teeth and claws. In some accounts, its eyes shone red and it was capable of standing on its hind legs.

Many witnesses speculated that the attackers could have been dogs or wolves, while others theorized it might be a tiger, a lion cub, a panther, a wild boar, a bear, or even a hyena.

Reports mentioned both a solitary creature and a pair executing the assaults. Whatever the truth, there was no doubt something was lurking in the woods, hunting the people of Gevaudan.

A wolf wouldn’t be out of the ordinary. Historical records abound of wolves preying on humans in France. Yet, the frequency and scope of these attacks were strikingly unusual.

This allowed superstitions and rumors to amplify the legend of the beast. People claimed it could withstand bullets, while others insisted it could disappear without a trace.

Wanted posters for the creature asserted it decapitated its victims and drank their blood. This depiction of the creature reveals it with two rows of jagged teeth, upright ears, a cow-like tail, its tongue lolling from its mouth and a body resembling that of a lion. Most reports were deemed highly credible.

The assaults occurred during a time when France was gripped by fears of wolves. A rabid wolf had taken 43 victims in January 1764, the same year the beast began its rampage.

In the autumn of 1764, the "Courrier d'Avignon" newspaper began to circulate tales of the attacks. These accounts were sensational, likening the beast to exotic creatures such as the hyena, the lion, and a colossal North African serpent. The editor, Francois Morenas, aimed to boost sales, and the brutal attacks were just the ticket, prompting the media to swiftly pick up the stories.

Initially, the villagers were blamed for their unfortunate fate. The locals of Gevaudan predominantly adhered to Protestant beliefs. Outsiders suspected the peasants held animosity towards Catholicism and the monarchy.

One bishop even asserted that the beast was a sign of divine retribution. This also implied that any soldiers dispatched by the clergy or the crown to eliminate the beast were not merely safeguarding the villagers, but also surveilling the actions of supposed dissenters.

There were also allegations that the reaction to the assaults was overstated because of so-called primitive beliefs and rural superstitions, essentially suggesting that the villagers were too simple-minded and too naive to perceive it as anything other than a monster.

In January 1765, Morenas published an article asserting that the assaults were caused by a "ferocious beast of unknown origin, emerging from who knows where."

It reinforced claims that the creature drank the blood of its victims and devoured their flesh. The article also noted that the hunting parties were thwarted by the beast's agility and cleverness.

In a subsequent article, Morenas asserted that the bullets could not penetrate the beast's hide, and its fur emitted a dreadful odor.

A follow-up piece highlighted its ability to leap astonishing distances, and its knack for disappearing and reappearing at will.

By December 1765, the "Courrier" had published 98 articles concerning the beast. Numerous tales infused with mystery emerged. This news report became a template for both national and international media.

Publications took jabs at King Louis XV, criticizing him for the crown's failure to apprehend the murderer.

King Louis felt humiliated by the press coverage that portrayed him as a monarch unable to safeguard his subjects, so in February 1765, he dispatched two expert wolf hunters to eliminate the beast.

They, along with their eight bloodhounds, reached the area on February 17th. Just a day later, a letter sent to the media described a supposed encounter with the Beast of Gevaudan.

Travelers in a remote region in a horse-drawn carriage were assaulted. The beast targeted the horses first, rearing on its hind legs and with a mouth full of foam, used its tail to strike a footman in the face.

It then dropped back to all fours before leaping into the carriage, shattering the glass and vanishing into the woods. A dreadful stench lingered in its aftermath, so repugnant that the carriage was reduced to ashes, its remnants interred deep beneath the earth.

In March, the tale gained traction, reaching a global audience after "London Magazine" featured it once more. Accompanying illustrations of the monstrous beast appeared alongside numerous other articles published worldwide, depicting its massive form and terrifying visage.

Since the first assaults, armed residents have been actively pursuing the creature in the Langogne woods since September 1764, including sizable hunting expeditions. At least one mountain infantryman, Jean-Baptiste Duhamel, took part in these hunts.

The local uproar captured the attention of the government as the attacks began to extend northwest. Following the carriage incident, it became evident that the beast was no longer targeting solitary peasants.

This development did little to bolster King Louis's pride. He announced a substantial reward of 6,000 livres for anyone who could bring down the creature, a sum surpassing any local bounty offered, and one that elevated the total reward to over 10,000 livres.

Local hunters resorted to poison and set traps to capture the beast. Some even employed trained wolf-hunting dogs.

In June 1765, the king sent his Lieutenant of the Hunt, Francois Antoine, who appeared to have more success. Antoine shot a gray wolf that some witnesses and survivors claimed was the culprit.

It was packed and dispatched to Versailles for exhibition where spectators felt let down. The magnificent creature turned out to be just an ordinary-sized wolf. However, the entire pack of wolves was exterminated as a precautionary measure, but those deaths would ultimately be in vain.

Less than three months after Antoine's victorious hunt, more attacks ensued, and fear gripped the region once more. Additional hunters embarked on expeditions, with reports indicating that over 2000 wolves had been killed.

The creature eluded capture as dismembered bodies surfaced at the forest's edge for another two years.

The beast remained a mystery until June of 1767, when a local hunter from Gevaudan, Jean Chastel, finally shot and brought down the beast.

Many marksmen and experts verified that the creature Chastel displayed was unlike anything they had ever encountered. It was distinguished by its monstrous head and an unusually pliable skeleton.

Weighing approximately 109 pounds, it also possessed a membrane that covered its eyes, which could explain the eerie glow some witnesses claimed to have seen.

The demise of the beast was met with jubilation by the people of Gevaudan. The body was allegedly returned to a nearby village and put on display for the public.

This marked a pivotal moment, as the residents of Gevaudan had endured years of fear. They sought confirmation that the nightmare had finally come to an end.

During the three-year terror spree from 1764 to 1767, over 100 fatalities were linked to the creature.

But what exactly was the Beast of Gevaudan? Dr. Boulanger, a local physician, was assigned to conduct an autopsy. Upon inspecting the remains, he observed that the creature resembled a wolf, yet was significantly larger than an ordinary wolf.

It possessed strong jaws with razor-sharp teeth, coarse, rough fur of a reddish-brown hue, and large, piercing yellow eyes.

During the taxidermy procedure, the contents of the beast's stomach unveiled the remnants of its final human victim. Despite the thorough examination, Boulanger could not deliver a conclusive identification of the creature's species.

This uncertainty only intensified the speculation. Chastel and the carcass reached Versailles in August, intended to be a celebratory moment for the hunter.

However, the king commanded the body to be buried immediately without ceremony, and thus the tale of the Beast of Gevaudan came to a close, right?

Not quite.

Speculation and whispers persisted. Some claim it was not a single wolf but a pack of wolves.

Wolves were also a dire threat, a notion reinforced by werewolf legends. Whispers circulated that Chastel had employed a silver bullet to eliminate the Beast of Gevaudan, which only fueled its monstrous legend.

When the initial attacks began, some suggested the creature was a hyena. These animals were known for their solitary, predatory nature, and their strength surpassed that of a wolf.

Another speculation was that the beast resembled a lion or a tiger. In 1911, Dr. Paul Puech, a French gynecologist, authored an essay asserting that the beast was a sadistic human murderer.

Each of these theories holds some degree of credibility, but the absence of a conclusive explanation kept the legend alive.

The stories surrounding the Beast of Gevaudan are compelling because they intertwine historical records with an intriguing enigma.

The beast evolved into a cultural symbol that transcended its demise. Prominent figures in popular culture wrote and discussed the beast.

Even now, its terrifying essence endures. It resurfaces in contemporary werewolf tales like "Teen Wolf."

In 2001, the film "Brotherhood of the Wolf" merged two of these theories. The creature depicted in that film is a lion clad in metal armor.

It remains one of the most renowned cryptids in the world, and all of this is made feasible due to the absence of definitive proof.

What we can confirm is this, individuals were being assaulted and slain by an unknown entity in 18th century France.

Whatever lurked in the woods of Gevaudan was indeed real. It attacked, it killed, and it terrorized an entire area, and long after its last breath, the tale of the beast continues to endure.

Perhaps we will never uncover the true identity of the Beast of Gevaudan, and maybe that’s acceptable.

Some enigmas are meant to serve as reminders of how easily fear can obscure the boundary between what is real and what is legendary.