Terror on four legs
Centuries after the beast’s final kill, its legend looms as large as ever...
It could send a man flying with a swing of its tail
The legend of the werewolf has fascinated people for hundreds of years.
Tales of human beings who shape-shift at Full Moon into bloodthirsty beasts were shared long before they were seen on cinema and television screens.
During the Middle Ages, stories of grisly attacks were rife.
But as society grew more civilised, the notion of this half-man, half-beast came to be ridiculed.
That was, until a monstrous incident shocked southern France in the 18th century.
An isolated region, the province of Gevaudan was known for its untamed beauty and supposedly enchanted woodlands.
But in summer 1764, the fairytale wilderness turned into a bloodstained hunting ground.
It all began when a young woman looking after her cattle was set upon by a ferocious creature.
She later described the creature as a wolf-like animal as wide as a horse and as long as a leopard.
It had dark-red hair with black streaks, a muzzle similar to that of a greyhound, and a long, bushy tail, as well as
razor-sharp talons and teeth. The snarling monster roared and gnashed its fangs at the terrified young woman, rising up menacingly on its hind legs and darting around the herd of cows with alarming speed.
Luckily for the girl, her ferocious attacker was soon driven off into the woods by her cattle.
Days later, the creature struck again, and this time his victim wasn’t so lucky.
A 14-year-old girl named Jeanne Boulet was mauled and devoured by the beast near the site of the first attack, leaving only her bonnet and clogs at the scene.
More brutal animal attacks were reported as the summer went on, and those lucky enough to survive described the creature in the same way as the first victim had.
Eyewitnesses claimed that the animal was exceedingly fast, could jump several metres in one bound and was unaffected by bullets.
It could also send a man flying with a swing of its tail.
Upon examining the bodies, officials noticed that the most damage had been inflicted on the head and neck, which suggested that the creature was targeting these areas with intelligence and purpose.
It also raised a sinister question. What if the beast wasn’t killing out of hunger, but for pleasure?
By the end of 1764, it had slain 20 people, and the terrifying tales of the Beast of Gevaudan had spread beyond the region to all of France. Speculation was rife. Was the beast a large wolf? Or perhaps a hyena, a panther or even a bear?
As public hysteria grew, some people even believed that Gevaudan was being plagued by a werewolf.
Unable to ignore the rising body count, aristocrats and local officials decided to intervene and kill the creature once and for all.
Killing the Beast of Gevaudan was a prize that hunters across France yearned for, a point of masculine pride, and poachers clamoured to claim the animal’s head.
The first coordinated hunt was organised by regional delegate Etienne Lafont and local infantry leader Captain Jean Baptiste Duhamel, a man desperate to redeem himself for lost honour during the Seven Years’ War.
Duhamel’s force left poison bait in areas the beast was known to prowl, and he even had his men try to attract the monster by dressing up like peasant women, apparently its preferred type of victim.
The hunters had no luck, but in January 1765, 11-year-old Jacques Portefax was herding livestock in a field with four other boys when they were confronted by the vicious beast.
Jacques and his friends bravely stood their ground, and
eventually chased the monster off with sharp wooden pikes.
By then, the tales of the creature had reached the court of King Louis XV.
The king was so impressed by the boys’ bravery that he paid rewards to each of their families and even paid for Jacques’ education.
He also sent the d’Ennevals – a father-son hunting duo who claimed to have killed over 1,000 wolves.
Several wolves were shot and killed, but the attacks went on.
In June 1765, the d’Ennevals gave up, so the king sent his own Lieutenant of the Hunt, Francois Antoine, to put a stop to the attacks.
Antoine and his men stalked the area for three months, killing several wolves before they shot an exceptionally large one in September 1765.
Weighing over 9st and measuring nearly 6ft in length, it seemed certain it must’ve been the legendary beast.
Antoine returned to Versailles, where he was handsomely rewarded for his efforts, while the animal was stuffed and displayed at the royal court.
But two months later, the attacks began again.
It appeared that Antoine hadn’t killed the real monster, and unfortunately for the people of Gevaudan, King Louis offered no aid this time. As far as the king was concerned, the beast had been killed. The matter was closed.
Despite the efforts of local hunting parties, it continued its bloody rampage, leaving a trail of bodies and maimed victims in its wake.
The violent and sometimes fatal encounters continued until 1767, when legend has it that local peasant Jean Chastel killed a wolf as big as a small horse with a custommade silver shot.
Within three years, the beast had supposedly slayed 100 people, injuring nearly 300, but now it seemed that its reign of terror had ended.
When the corpse was examined, it was noted that it was much larger than a normal adult wolf, and partially digested human remains were found in its stomach.
Nobody knows what became of the body after that – and even today, experts have no idea what sort of animal the beast actually was.
It took a silver shot to kill the beast of Gevaudan...but its legend refuses to die.
In three years, the beast had slayed 100 people