Creature depicted as a gigantic wolf-like quadruped (witnesses reported it as big as a donkey or cow) that over two hundred years ago terrorized people in southeastern France by killing men, woman and children. Many explanations — mutant, prehistoric beast, demon, very large baboon, etc. — were put forward at the time and during the two centuries since, but none has ever been generally accepted. One thing is certain: sufficient evidence remains to prove that 'La Bête' — French for 'The Beast', as the creature became known — really did exist and was not just a myth.

This monstrous animal terrorized the people of Gévaudan — a district in Lozère — for more then three years, and it is said it killed about one hundred human beings (and wounded over thirty), without mentioning a large number of cattle and other domestic animals.

It all stared in June 1764 in the Merçoire forest near Langogne in the eastern part of Gévaudan, when a young woman watching a heard of cows suddenly saw a gruesome beast charging at her. Had not the bulls kept the monster at bay with their horns, she most certainly would have been devoured. After the bulls successfully repelled a second charge, the lucky woman managed to escape with just minor scratches and torn clothes.

The animal was hysterically described by the lass as having a very wide chest, a huge head and neck, short straight ears that looked like erect horns and a nose like a greyhound, with two long fangs protruding from each side of its black foaming mouth. Its tail was long and exceptionally thin and it had a black stripe running from the top of the head to the tip of the tail. It also had enormous claws, which looked like a man's hand only three times larger, and its eyes glinted red and looked devilish. The young woman also said that it moved at a high speed, in leaps and bounds of as much as thirty feet (nine meters).

In the following months terror swept the region. The beast favored easy prey — women and children, and also lone men who took livestock out to pasture — often aiming for the head of its victims. Several were devoured and carried off. Worse of all, half-eaten bodies and torn-off limbs scattered about. A few of the victims got away with their lives, but most of these went mad from shock. There was rampant speculation that the creature was actually a loup-garou (werewolf). Others speculated that there were a pair — or even a pack — of extremely large and strangely colored man-eating creatures, instead of only one animal, because of the high number of attacks and also because it seemed to be able to either move incredibly fast or to be in two places at almost the same time. Guns seemed useless, for even when someone shot at the beast, it apparently remained unharmed. The creature came to be regarded more and more as a supernatural fiend.

In October 1764 two hunters spotted the beast and shot it from only ten paces. The creature fell, only to get up again immediately. A second round of shots, and again the beast fell. This time the animal got up on unsteady legs, but still managed to escape to a nearby wood. As it made its escape, the hunters shot at twice more, and at each time the beast fell, only to rise again.

Locals, after hearing about it and seeing the blood trail leading to the woods, were sure that this time the creature was mortally wounded, and that it would be found dead the next day. To their great horror, several more people were killed in the next days. The legend — and the fear — grew even more.

The next month enormous beats composed of every available peasant were organized by a certain Captain Duhamel, who led fifty-seven of his dragoons (forty on foot and seventeen mounted) on a massive hunt for the creature. His efforts were useless. The beast proved to be too much for them, escaping every time Duhamel's dragoons thought they had it trapped. The men went as far as dressing like women to lure the creature with the prospect of an easy kill, but the animal still managed to avoid being captured or killed.

A large reward was then offered, and hunters from all over came to Gévaudan hoping to win the money. These hunters joined the dragoons, and the hunt went on for months. Over one hundred wolves were killed, but the beast still eluded everyone. In the end disgruntled peasants had had enough of these outsiders eating their bread, trampling their fields and invading their houses. Incredibly, as if it had sensed the animosity between the populace and the hunters, 'La Bête' unleashed a massacre more terrible then before — right under everyone's noses. By this time, stories of the invincible 'Beast of Gévaudan' had reached every corner of Europe.

After a brutal and public attack on two young children, King Louis XV sent a certain Denneval to the district. Denneval, a Norman squire and hunter reputed to have killed more than twelve hundred wolves, began tracking the beast with six of his best bloodhounds in February 1765. Not long after that a local farmer's courageous sixteen year-old son, Jacques Denis, joined up with Denneval, and they became friends. Jacques twenty year-old sister Jeanne had been attacked by 'La Bête', and although surviving the encounter with two gapping wounds behind each ear and a torn shoulder, she went mad never to recover. Jacques, a witness to the mauling, had sworn to avenge his sister.

On April 29, 1765, a local nobleman called Chaumette and his two brothers came upon the beast as it was stalking a shepherd. They shot at it, and the animal collapsed on the ground, rolling over two or three times. They fired again. The beast rolled over to a nearby wood, managed to gain shelter and fled. But this time a lot of blood stained the soil and bushes all around. Everyone hoped it had gone away to die alone in the bushes. It proved to be a false hope. Shortly after the beast was back on its bloody rampage.

This time the beast attacked at the great spring fair held at Malzieu in May 1765. It stared by killing a young lady named Marguerite, who by a strange coincidence happened to be a very good friend of Jacques Denis. Afterwards, the creature killed three other victims on that same day. This was the last drop. Enraged peasants grabbed pitch forks and bayonets, and led by Jacques put their dogs onto the still-fresh scent. Soon enough they found themselves face to face with 'La Bête', Jacques for the second time. He attacked the animal violently with his bayonet, but the beast remained unconcerned, leaping at the young man. If not for the arrival of more hunters prompting the beast to flee, Jacques would have joined his friend Marguerite in the afterlife. In June 1765, Denneval gave up the hunt.

The beast, as if it had sensed the departure of its enemy, went on a rampage. On June 16 it attacked and mangled a little girl, who fortunately was saved by villagers at the last moment. On the 21st, 'La Bête' killed a fourteen year-old boy, devoured a forty-five year-old woman and carried off a little child. A furious King then charged his personal gun carrier, Antoine de Beauterne, with the demise of the problematic beast.

The King's emissary did little at first. He surveyed the area, drew some maps of the animal's routes, and inspected the environment. Then, on September 21st, he organized a beat composed of forty local hunters and 12 dogs.

This time things seemed to be going all right. Guided by his intuition, de Beauterne had the men encircled a ravine in the woods near the village of Pommier. As soon as the dogs were unleashed, they stared to bark furiously. 'La Bête' was there! Antoine de Beauterne's approach and intuition had paid off.

As the beast came out of the brush, it immediately became aware that it was surrounded. Desperately, it tried to find a hole in the trap. De Beauterne fired, hitting the beast in the right shoulder. The hunters also opened fire, and one shot went right through the animal's right eye and its skull. The creature fell, as the men sounded the horn in triumph.

Suddenly, to everyone's surprise and bafflement, the beast rose and charged at de Beauterne. The men fired again, and again the creature was hit. 'La Bête' turned around and tried to escape once again, but it finally collapsed — dead at last!

Upon examination, the animal proved to be an enormous rare type of wolf measuring a little over 6 feet (1.8 meters), weighing 143 pounds (65 kilograms), with a huge head and fangs about 1½ inches (3.5 centimeters) long.

There was great rejoicing in the region's villages. 'The beast is dead! The beast is dead!' But still many folk would not dare to believe it was true, including Jacques Denis' other sister, Julienne:

"I know it is still alive, out there, watching us from the shadows! It will get me, I just know it!"

For the next couple of months no ominous alarm bells were heard at the villages, but just because of the King's order forbidding anyone to speak of the beast. The killings went on, and Julienne disappeared, never to be seen again, on Christmas Day.

For the next year (1766) things were much calmer, with just a few disappearances. But in the spring of 1767 the massacres resumed, although it is not known how many were killed: many families did not admit to the deaths and the authorities no longer registered them. But somehow it came to light that from March to June 1767 there were 14 victims of the beast, all in an area 3 miles (5 kilometers) long near the town of Paulhac.

On June 19 a local nobleman organized a huge beat, composed of over three hundred hunters and beaters. Jean Chastel, an acquaintance of Jacques and Julienne Denis, came along armed with his gun and blessed silver bullets. He positioned himself on a prime spot to get first bids on the creature, and opened a prayer book.

As Chastel preyed, suddenly there was a rustling at the edge of the woods. The beat had worked, and the creature sprang from the brush. It stopped surprised, a few steps in front of Jean Chastel, which in turn raised his gun and fired once, twice. The beast fell, dead. Just as the animal killed by Antoine de Beauterne it actually looked remotely similar to a wolf, but it was abnormally bigger than any local wolves ever seen. Upon gutting the creature, remains of a small girl were found inside it.

The animal was embalmed and taken from town to town so people, for a small fee, could have a look at it. The King however wanted it to be exhibited at the royal palace, so Jean himself went to Versailles with the body. Unfortunately, embalming techniques were not very good at the time, so when they reached the palace the carcass was starting to stink. After a few days of displaying the creature's corpse at his court, the King — upset by the smell — ordered it buried at once.

One week after the killing of the creature, during a hunting party organized by marquise Labesseyre-Saint-Mary, a hunter named Jean Terrisse killed a giant female wolf. It was considered that this was the mate of the monster. After the slaying of these two animals no more attacks were reported.

Related books:
The Complete Book of Werewolves.
Wolf-Hunting in France in the Reign of Louis XV: The Beast of the Gevaudan.

Further info:
La Bête du Gévaudan.
The Beast of Gévaudan (geocities.com).
The Beast of Gévaudan (shanmonster.bla-bla.com).
The Beast of Gévaudan and Other "Maulers".
The Unexplained Site - Beast of Gévaudan.