So Supernatural - THE UNKNOWN: The Beast of Gévaudan
Episode Date: July 8, 2020From 1764 to 1767, a strange creature terrorized a mountainous French region called the Gévaudan. But though myths and stories surrounding the “Beast” are still around to this day, nobody knows w...hat exactly was roaming through the area…
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It's almost a rite of passage for a child to be afraid of the monster hiding under their bed.
But nobody knows what the monster actually is.
Some speculate that maybe it's an imaginary representation of separation anxiety or simply a fear of the dark.
But who's to say that just because we don't know what it is, that it isn't real and that we shouldn't be scared?
Because in the 18th century, a monster did attack in an ancient French region called Gévaudan.
And to this day, nobody knows exactly what it was. This is Supernatural, and I'm your host, Ashley Flowers.
This week, we're looking at the Beast of Gévaudan. From 1764 to 1767, almost 300 people in the French region of Gévaudan were attacked by a mysterious creature simply known as the Beast.
This thing both terrorized and fascinated the likes of shepherders and peasants, the nobility, and even the king. But despite the 250 years that
have passed, we still don't know exactly what or who was causing all these attacks.
We'll have more about the beast coming up. Stay with us.
The story begins at the end of June in 1764, when 14-year-old Jeanne Boulet went out to tend her family sheep.
Now, this isn't abnormal. Almost everyone in the area is a shepherd or farmer of some kind, and the kids are all expected to help with the work.
And the hills where the sheep graze, outside of a small, isolated region called Vivre, isn't exactly the most dangerous
place in the world. Cottages dot the hillside in a lush green area surrounded by mountains
with massive granite and limestone rock formations. Sure, the fog gives the landscape an eerie quality
and makes the mountains look like giants. And sure, there are wild animals, rabid dogs, coyotes, wolves,
nothing that an experienced shepherd can't handle.
But when Jeanne doesn't return that night, people start to worry.
And when they go out to look for her, what they find is horrifying.
Her body is mangled so violently that the cause of death is listed as nothing but by a beast.
Now, to the villagers, it's a freak accident, nothing to be uniquely afraid of.
It was sad, but in the 18th century, death wasn't necessarily surprising.
But on August 6th, the body of a girl from a nearby village of Selye is found choked and partially eaten,
not unlike Jean Boulet.
Still, the villagers think this could be a coincidence.
But on August 8th, there's a third victim, a 15-year-old girl this time.
And at the end of the month, a fourth, a 16-year-old boy also working in the hills.
And in September, there are four more lethal attacks.
This is no longer a string of coincidences, but a lethal pattern.
The villagers of Gévaudan begin to get pretty anxious.
This is eight recorded deaths in basically three months.
That might not seem like a lot, but this is a very low population region, unaccustomed
to having their shepherds
attacked in such quick succession. Plus, sheep herding is the backbone of the local economy.
They can't afford not to do it. So they announce the presence of a dangerous animal at the local
parishes. People are asked to stay home, but the beast starts attacking closer and closer
to the villages themselves, until an adult woman is killed just a few steps from her own door.
Now, some of these attacks are great distances from each other.
But the people of the Gévaudan don't really consider the possibility that it's more than one beast.
They've been living with large animals in these hills for centuries.
There's really no reason to suspect that those animals might have turned into violent people eaters. This is something completely
different. As word spreads through the local newspapers, sightings are more frequently reported
and speculation starts to run rampant. It's hard to pin the first time the creature is identified
and described. Some descriptions are vague. People are maybe perhaps
too terrified to describe what they are seeing or attacks happen so quickly that they don't get a
good look. But here's what we know. It attacks both at night and during the day. One account
describes a sister so utterly terrified by watching her brother get eaten that she spent three days
hidden in some rocks. By the time she
was found, she completely lost her grip on reality. Some reports say the beast is like a wolf, yet not
a wolf. The size of a donkey, a leopard, or a small horse. It's got massive claws, six talons, and
pointy fangs. The color of the fur is sometimes described as gray, sometimes
reddish, but the most common descriptor is a unique black stripe down its back.
Then there are the eyes, described as sparkling, fiery, blood-red in color. And the smell,
a smell so rotten that survivors claim they could smell it coming from afar.
There's talk of it being able to bend its own body in half, or walk on its hind legs, or paddle
through large bodies of water. Some people are even finding the victim's clothing neatly folded
next to their bodies. As the stories get more and more bizarre, the villagers insist that this is no regular animal.
This is something beyond normal understanding, and it's getting worse.
The people of Gévaudan need help.
So in steps the local government.
First, a delegate named Etienne Lafon is appointed to lead the hunt.
He soon recruits a military captain named Jean-Baptiste
Douamel, the first officially endorsed hunter, and together they recruit over a hundred volunteers
to help. This is a hunt on a pretty massive scale. To them, there's no way they won't catch this
thing. So in October of 1764, they take that group to the forest where the beast was last spotted and surround the woods.
There's a pretty dense fog here. Storms threaten to send them home at any time, and it's not easy
to see more than a couple of feet ahead. But despite the conditions, they move in slowly,
guns at the ready. After some time, a creature emerges, one only described as frightening.
A hunter steps up close and fires, knocking the beast over.
The hunter thinks he's gotten him.
A group closes in, but then the beast just gets up and takes off back into the depths of the forest.
This story is baffling to Lafon and Duamel.
They attempt to track it throughout the night, but find neither
blood nor the beast's body. And as the hunt continues, other volunteers report that when they
shoot at the beast, the bullet doesn't even pierce its skin. It just bounces off, defying death itself.
By the end of October, attacks are averaging four a week, a massive increase from the three that occurred in all of August.
Not all are deaths. There are some survivors, but those that survive describe harrowing experiences.
Lafon and Duhamel are convinced that this creature is something extraordinary.
And with the help of the local newspapers, speculation spreads that this is a creature
with semi-magical qualities. Then, the beast becomes not just a local phenomenon,
but a national obsession. Throughout the country, people are talking about it,
joking about it, fighting about it. Stories of the beast become so popular that word actually
gets all the way up to Versailles and into the ear of King Louis
XV. Of course, Louis is determined to put an end to these killings. So on January 27, 1765,
he announces a 6,000-lieve reward for the hunter who brings him the beast slain. Now, 6,000 livres is a lot of money back then. It's almost 30 years' salary for most
of the peasants of Gévaudan. And for those that are already wealthy, there's the glory attached.
To slay the most fearsome beast in France would be the greatest prize of them all.
On top of that, by February of 1765, after five months of hunting, local leader Duhamel's lack of success
causes him to fall out of favor with the locals. So the door is wide open for a new hero to emerge.
They just need someone really brave to walk through it. The first guy to step up is Jean-Charles
Dunval, a professional wolf hunter from Normandy. He registers with the local leader Lafon and heads
to Gévaudan along with his son and six hunting dogs, thinking that he's got this. I mean, he's
already killed 1,200 wolves in his career, and his son is a military captain. Some shepherd-killing
monster can't be too difficult to handle. But of course, he runs into a few obstacles. First,
there's fighting between him
and Duhamel, who isn't particularly happy about being replaced. Second, Denval is also absolutely
shocked by the region's geography. He hadn't expected it to be so mountainous or the weather
to be so brutally treacherous. There were freak snowstorms, rolling blackness, wind tunnels, brutal conditions
to spend days and nights tracking an animal. Which again means this isn't just any animal or any wolf.
It has to be an animal that can survive in ridiculous conditions. Eventually, it becomes
apparent that Denval can't keep up. So in July of 1765, just five months after starting, he's asked to step down.
We don't have exact numbers here, but it's been about a year since the first killing.
And Gévaudan's seen probably about 200 attacks.
If the French don't kill the beast soon, who's to say deaths won't end up in the thousands?
And so again,
they amp up the hunt. The next appointed hunters are the king's personal gun bearer,
a man named Francois Antoine and his son, a cavalry officer.
Now, Francois has all of the equipment and skills, the guns, the impressive track record,
even a nephew who's a gamekeeper. And mostly,
he surpasses a lot of the issues D'Anval had. He waits out the storms, wins the hearts of the
townspeople by setting off a fireworks display, and gives a rousing speech proclaiming that he
will destroy the beast. And in September of 1765, Francois does finally shoot down a wolf.
He and his son take the remains to Versailles to be examined, and the king is so excited that he declares victory.
Francois and the people of Gévaudan are ecstatic.
With the beast finally proclaimed dead, everyone can sleep in peace.
Unfortunately, the announcement is premature. The king's examiner
reports that there's no actual evidence that the wolf brought to the palace by Francois had eaten
any human flesh at all. Then, in December of 1765, the beast strikes again. Four before Christmas,
including one girl who is consumed so thoroughly that her body is deemed insufficient
for burial. And over the next year, the beast keeps on his murderous rampage. But under increased
pressure from Versailles, the newspapers slow the reporting. It becomes hard to tell exactly how
many attacks occur over 1766, and the peasants of Gévaudan are left with hardly any further information.
All we know is that this creature continues killing in large numbers, covering great distances,
evading bullets, and seemingly cheating death. They don't know what it is, they don't know where
it came from, but one man was determined to put a stop to its rampage, no matter what it took.
We'll dive into the end of the beast's tear after this. Now let's get back to the story.
In November 1766, the beast's attacks seem to almost disappear. But in March of 1767, they start up again in full force,
as many as 10 a month.
At this point, it's feeling pretty hopeless.
The beast's reign of terror has spanned three years,
resulting in deaths or injury of hundreds of people.
So in June 1767, a local Marquis decides that he's had enough and spontaneously
organizes a group of men to hunt. Among these is a man named Jean Chastel, who joins the group
alongside two of his sons. Soon, they arrive at La Tenizere, which is a big woodland area in
Jevudan with dense thickets, tall hills, limestone caverns. The beast could be
anywhere. At some point, Shastel splits off from the group. Now, he doesn't go far. He can definitely
still hear the other hunters, but he's sort of on his own for a bit, wandering, smelling the fir
trees, looking for tracks. According to one account, he's even praying. And then he hears a rustle
in the woods. It's the beast. It emerges from a dense thicket. And according to Shastell's
retelling, it's exactly as described. Stripe down its fur, big glowing eyes, and that rotting smell.
And Shastell, a religious man, seems not to be afraid.
He even takes a moment to finish his prayers,
like, Lord, have mercy on us, Christ, have mercy on us, and so on.
And the beast waits.
But then Shastel finishes speaking. The beast runs, charging directly at him,
so Chastel calmly pulls out his gun. He aims, fires, and then just like that, the beast falls.
Chastel and his sons gather the body, and like Francois Antoine before him,
set off toward the French capital to show the king their kill.
After this, the attacks actually do stop.
People are celebrating, no longer afraid to go outside or head up into the hills or tend to their livestock.
Life in Gévaudan goes back to normal.
But when Chastel's beast eventually makes its way to Versailles,
it is so decomposed that nobody can confirm what exactly it was. Over time, stories of the beast
are passed down from generation to generation in Gévaudan and prevailed for centuries to come.
But that leaves us to ask, what exactly was attacking that tiny French countryside?
Our first theory comes by going back towards the end of 1764, a few months after the initial
killings, and looking at an announcement made by a local bishop. Now, this is a guy of importance.
When he talks, people listen. And when the bishop first gets word about this man-eating beast,
he doesn't think it's just a beast.
He thinks it's some sort of bad omen.
In his notice to all the parishes under his jurisdiction,
he basically blames the attacks on the people of Gévaudan themselves.
He says, quote,
Divine justice does not permit innocence to suffer. The punishment it
inflicts always presupposes the air that attracts it. It should be easy for you to see that your
misfortunes arise from your own sins. He goes on to reference Leviticus and Deuteronomy, saying that
this is all a result of their spiritual failings. To the bishop,
the beast is nothing more than an act of God. The bishop cites a few, quote, sins of the people,
recent political wars, neglect of worship, a decline of sexual morals, all things that he
believes warrant some sort of deathly punishment. He even mandates a 40-hour period of prayer. If the people
renew their commitment to God, they might be spared. But the bishop could have had an ulterior
motive for giving this explanation. At the time of the beast, the Catholic Church is being
challenged by two things. One, the rise of Protestantism, and two, a growing subset of members within the church known as Jesuits.
Both groups directly challenge more conservative Catholics like the bishop.
So in his eyes, the Catholic Church is losing a grip on their power over their citizens.
It's possible that consciously or subconsciously, when the bishop learned about the attacks,
he saw an opportunity to regain control.
And despite the peasants' prayers, the killings only continued.
You could say that Chastel's prayers helped him kill the beast,
but likely many before him prayed as well,
and this was only a coincidence.
So that brings us to a host of explanations that developed in
the years following the reign of the beast. The first and perhaps the most obvious is that it has
to be a normal natural creature acting on its own volition and maybe the creature is natural to the
world but unnatural to the region. Which brings us to theory two, that the beast is something exotic,
possibly escaped from a local menagerie.
This theory started in the late 17th century.
Worldwide trade is exploding at this time.
And with the spices and jewels and exotic treats
came stories and drawings of unusual animals,
things the French had never seen before.
And well before the attacks by the beast, King Louis' great-grandfather starts collecting these animals.
And because everyone wants to feel like royalty, this becomes a popular hobby.
But like with most new activities, there's inherent risks.
In this case, the escape of a violent creature.
So basically, the theory is that the beast of Gévaudan could have been someone's pet.
One day, the animal gets loose and kills people, but the owner doesn't want to come forward because, well, he or she doesn't want to be deemed responsible and thrown in jail.
So if the Beast really is an exotic animal, which of them is deadly enough to cause all the killings?
Here we turn to a book by S.R. Schwalb and Gustavo Sanchez Romero.
In it, Schwalb and Romero suggest all sorts of animals that could fit the beast.
Monkeys and snow leopards and even some prehistoric type of creature called a bear dog.
Now, I don't want to get too bogged down with animal anatomy here, but of all these animals
Schwalbe and Romero mention, our best bet is probably an animal called the African striped
hyena. You might remember one specific detail about the beast's fur. It had a distinctive dark stripe down its back,
and this description remains pretty consistent throughout all the sightings.
A few other things seem to support the striped hyena theory.
First, in the 1990s, an employee at the National Museum of Natural History in France
came across a pamphlet from 1819 describing the animals on
display in one of the museum's past exhibits. One of the animals is described as a striped hyena
from the east brought to Paris by a menagerie keeper. So it proves that hyenas did exist in
France. But that's not all. The pamphlet goes on to describe the animal as having eaten a large number of people in Jevodun, comparing it directly to the beast.
Now, it's probably not this exact animal that was doing the killing, but it means that the striped hyena theory was probably pretty widely accepted in the century after the attacks. That, plus hyenas have the ability to crush bones and chew up bits of flesh
that others can't digest, and the beast was known for literally ripping apart its victims.
There's even contemporary accounts of similar attacks where the animal was known for sure to
be a hyena. In the 1880s, a hyena attacked in Turkey, prompting the government to offer a reward for the slaying of
the animal, similar to King Louis' leaf. In 1930s Azerbaijan, a hyena was said to have entered
courtyards, just like in Jevudan. And in 1962, nine children were reportedly taken in a period
of six weeks in India, a similar rate to the beast. But here's the thing. The hyena theory
doesn't explain something else we know, that most bullets were unable to pierce its skin.
So the question becomes, why on earth was only Jean Chastel's bullets able to kill it?
Well, it turns out that Chastel didn't just use any bullets.
His were actually made from silver and not just any silver. The bullets were supposedly made from melted down coins,
coins with the image of the Virgin Mary, precious metal blessed by God.
It's very possible that we are in fact dealing with a wolf, but not just any wolf. Now, I know this
sounds absolutely crazy, but bear with me. The beast could really be a werewolf. This theory
was first proposed by newspapers at the time of the killings, but it still holds true today.
We've already said that the French were kind of obsessed with exotic animals,
but they were, and still are, also really interested in creatures
that were mythical and spooky and romantic.
Now, you might be thinking, well, if we're going to talk about werewolves,
werewolves only come alive during a full moon,
and the attacks were all month long and even during the day,
so it couldn't possibly be a
werewolf. But you'd be wrong. The earliest known real-life werewolf, at least alleged werewolf,
is a man named Peter Stuba, who lived in 16th century Germany. Now, the legend is that Stuba
makes a pact with the devil. He gives up prosperity for the power to take the shape of some sort of beast
and to more easily attack men, women, and children.
Satisfied with this exchange, the devil gives him a girdle,
one that would turn him into a wolf whenever he desired.
Werewolves don't have to only come out during a full moon,
nor do they necessarily only attack at night.
But here's another thing to consider.
The true medical definition behind werewolves is a term called lycanthropy,
which, according to the Encyclopedia Britannica, means a mental disorder in which the patient believes that he is a wolf or some other non-human animal.
So basically, there's the mythical form of it, a person magically turns into a werewolf,
but there's also the psychiatric version of it, where a person believes in the delusion that they
are a werewolf and is basically pretending. Which means that the werewolf in question wouldn't
necessarily have to attack in wolf form.
And think of the accounts where the victim's clothes were found folded next to their dead bodies.
I don't know about you, but I've never seen any animal of any kind
that was able to take clothes off of a small child and then fold them.
No matter which way you look at it,
this act alone suggests that there was something human about the beast, which forces us to consider something else.
In the late 19th century, a different kind of beast starts appearing, something that is very capable of stripping down a child and folding clothes neatly.
And I'm talking about a serial killer. Serial killers are notorious for being
meticulous about what they do in a creepy kind of artistically mad sort of way. Even John Wayne
Gacy would sometimes sneak into the funeral homes of his victims and fold their clothes. And the
sightings, the horrific descriptions, the fur, the things that make you think it's an animal could be explained by vivid imaginations under stress or by something else.
In the 18th century, the military often used boar skin to protect dogs in battle.
It's very possible that whoever was behind the beast was doing the same thing, covering himself in animal skin, kind of like a costume. And this could also
explain why some of the bullets completely bounced off its hide, or why, after a big blow, the beast
was still able to stand up. But if there really was a human behind the beast, then who? And why,
when Chastel killed an unknown animal in June 1767 did the killings end? It might be
because Shostel was more closely connected to the beast than anyone could have imagined.
We'll dive into this more right after this. Now let's get back to the story.
It's hard to pin down a ton of information about Shustell. Most records
say that he was either a farmer or an innkeeper, basically a peasant. And so it makes sense then
that he would be penned as a sort of hero. It's a classic David versus Goliath story. The lowly
innkeeper taking on the town monster, the poor farmer getting all the riches, etc.
But in 2013, a researcher named Phil Barnson starts looking a little bit closer.
He always thought something was off about the story.
For one, how was a poor peasant farmer able to afford silver bullets?
So he tracks down all the old signatures of Chastel's, and he notices
something peculiar. Chastel seems to have been signing off on burials, baptisms, marriages,
all the things that would require someone of importance. Not only that, but the style of
Chastel's signature suggests a sort of bourgeois upbringing. And when Barnson tracks down
his family lineage, he figures out that Chastel might have actually descended from nobility,
not a poor innkeeper or farmer at all, which would explain how he's able to afford those
silver bullets. But what's really curious about Chastel is his son Antoine.
Now, there's a lot of stories and myths around Antoine Chastel, but here's what we generally know.
At some point in his life, he travels through the Mediterranean.
We don't know why or how, presumably there's some family money,
but we do know that he eventually ends up on the island of Menorca,
where he works as the keeper of a menagerie. And here's where it gets really interesting.
Antoine supposedly returns to Gévaudan with a hyena. It's rumored that he even trained it to attack. At some point before the killings begin, he sets himself up in a makeshift home somewhere way, way up in the forest.
Now, it's possible that Antoine could have set his hyena loose to do the killings.
But as it turns out, Antoine might have suffered from hypertrichosis, a disease that causes excessive wolf-like hair growth
on the body and face.
Which brings us right back to our werewolf theory.
Antoine himself could have also been doing some of the killings.
And amongst the stories that have been passed down about the beast, we have an account by
a local peasant named Begu that might just confirm this.
It's early morning before dawn and Begu is taking a walk through the forest.
It's bright, a full moon, and he's enjoying the smell of the fir trees and the early morning peace and quiet
when he sees something strange in the river up ahead.
Something moving. So he walks towards it, and then he realizes that
he isn't alone. There's a bather in the river, a young, hairy man. It's a bit strange. Then suddenly,
the bather spots him. Begu freezes for a second. He doesn't know whether to say hello or to turn around, so he simply stops.
And then the man jumps out of the water, turns fully into a beast, and lunges right at Begu.
Begu runs so fast back to his house that he doesn't even turn around.
He shuts himself inside, terrified of what he thinks he's just seen.
Now, he doesn't come out until the next day,
but when he does, he says that the bather
looked rather similar to none other than Antoine Chastel.
Believe what you will about werewolves and man-beasts
and pacts with the devil,
but the theory that Antoine Chastel
was some sort of hairy
serial killer looks pretty good if you assume that his father might have played a role in getting his
son to stop killing. Meaning it could be that Jean learned of his son's wrongdoings and fearing his
son's imprisonment got him to end his gruesome hobby and then killed some other animal just to refute any leads.
Unfortunately, we don't really have any proof for this theory. All we know is that after Jean
Chastel shoots this animal with a silver bullet, the killings end. And we don't really know what
happened to Antoine after all of this, but some records do show that he might have been married
and had a few children of his own. The truth is that even today, it's hard to know exactly what the beast was. But
recent researchers have proposed what is probably the best explanation, or at least a theory for why
the beast might have developed an appetite for humans and why those years were especially ripe for kills. In the 18th century,
an increase in hunting activity, deforestation, and the expansion of agriculture in the region
all made space for humans, but it reduced space for the small wild animals on which wolves normally
fed. So it's possible that the wolves might have dug up corpses in the area,
bodies left over from famine or disease or war, and all that human flesh helps them develop an
appetite for small children who are the primary shepherds in the area. It makes total sense that
the beast might have just been a pack of wolves in the area, forced to eat whatever they
could find in the hills, which again, happens to be humans. And as to why the beast might have
eventually gone away, we turn again to the book Beast, Werewolves, Serial Killers, and Maneaters
by S.R. Schwalb and Gustavo Sanchez Romero. Schwalbe and Romero suggest that some of the wolves could have been
suffering from a disease called mange, which causes skin lesions and odd patches of hair loss
and makes them horrific or even hyena-looking. Schwalbe and Romero suggest that the distinct
smell of the beast was the smell of oral infections, something associated with old age. Plus, the beast seemed to have a preference
for eating organs, indicating that they were sick and needed the protein specifically provided in
livers and hearts and brains. So if these wolves were sick and old, then after a few years, they
would have just died and decayed away. Now, there are still some things that can't
be explained by the pack of wolves theory. The bulletproof quality of their hides, the folding
of the clothes, the decapitations. So there are still plenty of holes, even in this theory. But
regardless of what it actually was, the beast became a dark romantic myth to the French. The wolf population in France largely
decreased, but the beast of Gévaudan haunted the bedtime stories of children for centuries to come.
I'll leave you with this. In 2017, it was reported that wolves have recently been migrating into
France from the Italian Alps, and wolf sightings are increasing
in the tiny pocket of the country now called Lozere.
It's very possible that for the people of the Gévaudan,
an old enemy has returned. Thanks for listening.
I'll be back next week with another episode.
To hear more stories hosted by me, check out Crime Junkie and all other AudioChuck originals.