This translation was made with a digital translator. It's not perfect, I know that.
If you want to help me make it more understandable, I would be honored with your help.
Please contact me. 👍🏻

"I know that I know nothing." These words of Socrates perfectly sum up the feeling left by years of research into the Beast of Gévaudan—research that has taken shape in this very book.

What led me to take an interest in the Beast? I couldn't say for sure. Oh, I can trace a few contributing factors: a feature in the magazine *Okapi* when I was a child; my deep disappointment after seeing the film *Brotherhood of the Wolf* (Le Pacte des Loups), which drove me to find out what had actually happened; a request from an American friend asking me to tell her a French "legend."

But why? What is it, ultimately, that drives someone to invest time and energy in a historical incident—one that is, in the end, not particularly remarkable given the many cases of "beasts" in French history, some of which lasted longer or claimed more victims?

There is, of course, the mystery. Hundreds of people attacked, dozens of deaths, yet no one ever managed to discover the why or the how. The unknown sparks a desire to investigate, a need to find a rational explanation. Mystery is a challenge, and human beings love to rise to a challenge.

The unknown is frightening. The Beast is all the more terrifying because it remains a mystery. To attempt to identify it, define it, and put a name to the threat it poses is to reduce it to a measurable, controllable phenomenon. No doubt a terrified child still lives within me; he is the one who quickens his pace in the streets at night when sounds in the gloom turn menacing, and I know—against all reason—that monsters are prowling around me. By hunting the Beast, I reverse the roles; by identifying it, I tame it.

Then there is the duty of remembrance. There is little we can do now for the unfortunate victims—those killed, devoured, and scarred in both flesh and soul—other than to ensure they are not forgotten. Whoever was responsible for the attacks, they have eluded us. Even the carcasses of the animals identified as "the Beast" have vanished, leaving us without answers, certainty, or proof. There can be no trial, no restitution. Yet we can remember; we can strive to understand what contemporaries could not, and thereby accord the victims the small measure of justice within our power to bestow.

There is, of course, the fact that of all the Beasts, the Beast of Gévaudan—widely publicized at the very time the events unfolded—is the most famous. Reigning supreme among these killers, its dark notoriety eclipses that of other, deadlier monsters. It is also the Beast for which we possess the most documentation, and the one whose trail—despite dating back 240 years—remains the easiest to follow.

Finally, the specter of the Beast still haunts the Gévaudan. The sites of its crimes remain visible. Everywhere, depictions of the creature lie in wait for the traveler, lurking along the path. Families still bear the same names; descendants—some of whom one can still meet—have kept the memory alive, whereas other Beasts have faded into oblivion.

…/…

I strongly advise you to read this entire "report" which is very informative.

It is made up of four documents (only in French).

• Annotated chronology and documentation
• An index
• The Beast’s itinerary
• A location "KMZ" file (compatible with Google Earth or Google Maps)
• The Beast’s territories
• The Beast’s victims

A huge thank you to Alain for this monumental work over the years, and for making it available to everyone.

You can view these documents online or download them for free by clicking on the icons below

The Beast’s territories