Folk legends about terrifying monsters and tales of fear-inducing creatures have spread among many peoples and communities around the world. In the town of San Antonio on the Texas border, you’ll hear plenty of horror stories about the deeds of the “goat sucker,” the chupacabra, and at Loch Ness in Scotland, locals swear they’ve seen the neck of “Nessie” the monster poking above the waves more than once. The area around the Gévaudan district (today’s Lozère), in the Languedoc-Roussillon region, was no exception to this “club of horror.” In the 18th century, stories of a cruel and savage creature that terrorized the entire region spread among the local population. It was described as a kind of monstrous wolf, enormous in size and always on the hunt, roaming the rural areas of Gévaudan, lying in wait and attacking anyone unlucky enough to cross its path, leaving a trail of bodies behind it.

In the first known incident, which took place in the spring of 1764, a 14-year-old girl was killed, and within three years the number of victims climbed at a dizzying rate. The mysterious creature, which became known to all as “the Beast of Gévaudan” (La Bête du Gévaudan), tended to attack mostly women and children while they were out herding or working the fields. Strangely enough, men, cattle and even sheep were usually not among its preferred meals. From eyewitness accounts, a picture emerged of a smooth-bodied, broad-chested creature with reddish fur, a black-striped back, a long thin tail, and an enormous head that revealed two rows of terrifying teeth. Other versions insisted that there were, in fact, two beasts, which of course did nothing for the peace of mind of the local population, who lived with fear and dread as part of their daily routine. Spurred by the stories, local residents organized search parties to track down the cursed creature and put an end to it, and even Louis XV, whose court at Versailles had heard rumors of the monster, sent hunters to the region on his behalf, promising them generous rewards. To the hunters’ credit, the hunt was eventually crowned with success. Many of the wolves of Gévaudan were killed, and one particularly large wolf, positively identified by survivors, earned the hunter who brought about its death (François Antoine de Beauterne) great fame and a considerable sum of money. But the celebrations turned out to be a bit premature. Only a few weeks passed before the deadly attacks resumed, this time more fiercely than ever.

The turning point in the story came on June 19, 1767. On that Sunday morning, a French farmer named Jean Chastel set out from his home and walked slowly up the hillside, armed with his rifle and his courage, determined to come face to face with the monster. Chastel followed the creature’s fresh tracks, and when he reached the spot where he believed it to be, he knelt down and waited patiently. According to the stories, Chastel’s rifle was loaded with a special silver bullet, one he had made himself from the metal of a blessed coin bearing an image of the Virgin. In any case, Chastel’s heart was pounding wildly and cold sweat covered his forehead as the monster emerged from the shadows and fixed its gaze on him. Jean raised his weapon, took aim, and fired a shot that pierced the body of the Beast of Gévaudan. The autopsy of the creature’s massive body left no room for doubt: human remains were found in its stomach, offering proof of its guilt (though perhaps not in every case). The fascinating carcass of the creature was sent on its way to the Palace of Versailles, but by the time it arrived, it was already rotting and foul-smelling, and it was decided that it should be disposed of without further delay.
To this day, the true identity of La Bête, the Beast of Gévaudan, remains a mystery, a subject that has fascinated books and research alike. Was it really an enormous wolf? Or perhaps an enraged hyena that had escaped from a local menagerie? Or maybe it was some kind of wild hybrid creature, with the instincts of a predatory wolf but also traits of a dog, unafraid of humans. Some went so far as to claim it was an evil spirit, immune to the hunters’ bullets, sent by God to punish the locals for their sins, which only offers a glimpse into the superstitions of the time, and perhaps also an excuse for those hunters who failed to stop the creature’s attacks. An interesting study from 2009 suggested that the likely culprit was none other than Jean Chastel himself. The researchers’ argument went like this: how could a local farmer succeed where many skilled, professional hunters had failed? They proposed that the “monster” was actually Chastel’s own obedient mastiff, which felt safe near its owner and therefore never attacked him or fled from him. The motive the researchers suggested was no less extreme: that Jean Chastel was, in fact, a serial killer, and the monster was merely a cover for his horrific crimes.
A serial killer? Or a celebrated hero? What is known for certain is that a beast did indeed attack and kill more than a hundred residents of Gévaudan, and wounded many others, and that from the moment it was killed by Chastel, the days of terror and dread came to an end. Unlike Antoine de Beauterne, Jean Chastel never received a reward, but a monument commemorating his courage stands in the village of La Besseyre-Saint-Mary, one of the places where the monster’s attacks were recorded.

And when it comes to wolves: the wild wolf, which had nearly vanished from the soil of France as it had throughout much of Western Europe, is showing signs of recovery these days, as small wild populations resurface and arrive from other regions. There’s something fitting about the fact that in this very region where wolves were once hunted down, a reserve was established to protect and nurture a wolf population, and it was no coincidence that it was named “The Wolves of Gévaudan” (Les Loups du Gévaudan). The park opened in 1985 in Saint-Léger-de-Peyre, in the Lozère district, with a small population of 20 wolves, and later received a significant boost of 80 Siberian wolves donated by the Brigitte Bardot Foundation. The park has a small museum that tells the story of the wolves and their return to French soil, and of course recalls the fascinating tale of the Beast of Gévaudan.
