Beast

by S. R. Schwalb

  Possible Beast candidates (from the top down): Large mange-infected wolf (see projecting vertebra on its hairless back) with dental infections and swollen snout; baboon; and spotted hyena.

  CHAPTER 25

  Beasts Past and Present

  Concerning the cruel Bête, it is possible to recall that history mentions a fairly similar one, which existed about two hundred years before and which devoured more than one hundred fifty people in the forest of Fontainebleau before they could destroy it. This makes more understandable the long duration of the killings ours is committing.

  —Abbé Pierre Pourcher, quoting a March 16, 1765, letter from Paris

  France is a large country with an area of approximately 550,000 square kilometers (212,356 square miles). It is the third largest Eurasian country after Russia and the Ukraine. It is also bigger than California, but not as large as Texas. In its central and southern portions, one finds large tracts of forest once home to countless wolves. In this vast wilderness, there was more than enough space for all kinds of beasts. In the previous chapters, we have discussed the best-known Beast, notorious mainly because of the extraordinary number of deaths and injuries for which it was apparently responsible. But it was not alone.

  Historical documents, parish records, antique works of art, and contemporary descriptions depict a fair number of other creatures, other Bêtes, as bloodthirsty as that of the Gévaudan, some so infamous that merely mentioning their names invoked the dark arts, secret pacts with the devil, and absolute terror. Most of these animals are now just vague memories, represented in pages of archives or realistically portrayed in modern publications synthesizing data on such zoological phenomena. But apparently, some “die hard” and are revived by contemporary sightings.

  These accounts sometimes correspond with sightings of wolves, which have recently been returning to France. Others are far more mysterious because the physical descriptions of the animals seen or even photographed do not conform with the general anatomy of Canis lupus. These animals are labeled as Alien Big Cats (ABCs) or believed to be exotic species either accidentally or deliberately released into the wild. But they are flesh and bone creatures, roaming free within the vast French interior. Their silhouettes in many cases recall the typical profiles of large carnivorous predators. In others, they are reminiscent of unknown and powerful prowlers, deadly marauders of a not-so-distant past. Are these new Bêtes féroces, modern incarnations of the legend of the Gévaudan?

  Courtaud and the Wolves of Paris Paris, France, Winter 1439

  Bitter temperatures grip Paris and its surroundings; the falling snow is as suffocating as a coating of wet plaster.

  Outside of the royal city, desperate peasants struggle to survive in raw conditions, but are often simply unable to move about in the accumulations. Firewood is scarce and wet, crops have been ruined, everything is frozen. Those lucky enough to have a horse, donkey, or mule, and something resembling a cart, flee the country in caravans, hoping to find relief, help, and a bit of nourishment within the walls of Paris. It is a blind bet. No one knows for sure what they will find within the labyrinthine city, a chaotic urban complex overwhelmed by people, poor public services, and an alarming lack of food and supplies.

  Whiteouts, severe temperatures, and hunger are not the only dangers the travelers must face: There are whispers of shadows, loups-garous, necromancers, cannibals, and murderers haunting the roads. At night, unnerving howls and shrieks cut through the frigid air like blades separating flesh from bone. These haunting utterances result from nocturnal bloodbaths, in which people begin dying. (In the end, there were approximately forty deaths although eighteen were officially registered.) As nights pass and victims accumulate, news of the slayings spread. Superstitions are amplified.

  Through fog, snow, and sleet, wolves are sighted by those atop the city walls. The animals begin to acquire an almost mythic status, forming a pack, dwelling in the woods north of Paris on the highest point in the area: Montmartre, the Roman Mount of Mars. (Today Montmartre, in the eighteenth arrondissement, is part of Paris.)

  The mighty Courtaud (“Bobtail”), reconstructed here based on large modern wolf-dog specimens.

  Rumors circulate. It is said that this spectral pack of animals is led by a creature from hell, with a thick coat of fur and fiery red eyes that emit a ghostly glow at night. The animal is capable of walking on two legs and can even speak: When about to dispatch one of its victims, it names him or her in perfect French.

  ***

  What can modern readers make out of these stories? Clearly here are classic elements of medieval superstition regarding sorcery and werewolves, in which a frightening animal such as a wolf, under certain circumstances, can acquire such notoriety. But, if Courtaud and his pack were nothing more than ordinary wolves, as others of the time stated, what would we really know about them in reality, without the veneer of the fantastic, without a werewolf’s magical ointment?

  To find out, we must delve into one of the best books on the topic, and almost the only one written in recent times: Daniel P. Mannix’s The Wolves of Paris, published in 1978. Though a novel, it includes a great deal of information on the animals that terrorized the French capital that dark winter long ago.

  Mannix’s work was also influenced by Ernest Thompson Seton’s Great Historic Animals and by Roger H. Guerrand’s Le Journal d’un bourgeois de Paris sous Charles VI et Charles VII (The Diary of a Paris Bourgeois Under Charles VI and Charles VII). (An English translation of the last title entitled A Parisian Journal, 1405–1448, translated by Janet Shirley, was published by Oxford in 1968.)

  Mannix’s novel covers wolf biology, behavior, and ecology. In trying to acquire an understanding of these wolves of Paris, we wish to study their actions, motivations, and their achieving almost supernatural status in the minds and hearts of the Parisians of the time.

  In order to present a fair amount of data in an orderly and condensed way, we will ask a series of questions connected to certain aspects of Courtaud and its pack and their shadowy existence. The first thing we must ask is rather obvious if we want to learn more about these wolves:

  What kind of animal was Courtaud and why did it receive that nickname?

  Courtaud, in Mannix’s novel, is a hybrid wolf-dog cross, even though nothing is known about its true nature before it appeared at the gates of Paris in 1439. The name Courtaud, in French, means “bobtail,” “cut-tail,” and was also the name for a docked horse, and according to witnesses the pack leader did have a short tail or none at all. This condition could be the result of a conflict with another animal, with a human, or perhaps some infection or disease.

  We have extensively discussed the predatory nature and natural aggressiveness of wolf-dog animals. In general, Canis lupus, the wolf, is normally fearful of humans and avoids all contact. Wolf attacks on people seldom occur, and when this happens, the animal is probably infected with the rabies virus.

  On the other hand, wolf-dogs are far more aggressive as they may retain the predatory instincts of the wolf and the innate aggressiveness of the dog, an independent animal that does not require pack structure (where aggression is controlled for the benefit of all members) to survive. Dogs may live a comfortable life in our homes where everything is provided, they may work for us in various ways as guard dogs, herd dogs, hunting dogs, and so on. From time to time they may challenge us, perhaps as feral dogs, reviving ancient hierarchies and forgotten social structures. Feral dogs are known to attack humans, especially children (at times confusing them with smaller game or prey).

  How was Courtaud physically described?

  Courtaud was an extremely large individual, much bigger than the average wolf, and as Mannix states in his book, “such a brute would have been unusual enough in the far north” (referring to the much bigger size and weight typical for northern wolves in Canada or Russia). Courtaud was also a very long animal, measuring more than 2.2 meters, an incredible 7.21 feet (imagine how awesome it would be if, as the pe
asants said, it stood on its hind legs). Its paws were also huge, leaving a track wider than a man’s open hand (and well over the thirteen centimeters maximum width for big wolves). Courtaud was much heavier than an adult male; let’s say almost 100 kilograms, or over 220 pounds. Its fur color was unusual: Witnesses stated that it was completely reddish, except for a clearly defined white mark on its chest. This is consistent with hybrid identification, since generally speaking, wolves range in color from black to white, being normally grayish (without any kind of rosettes, spots, stripes, or other color pattern). Courtaud’s head was wide, robust, and somehow rounded, with a very short snout. It was wider than that of a normal wolf, which has a pointed skull and long snout. Again, the Paris wolf’s head is consistent with the hybrid profile; wolf-dogs usually have stocky, massive skulls, with prominent stops (the indentation between forehead and snout) and short muzzles, revealing the genes of Canis lupus familiaris, the domestic dog.

  Why did the wolves of Paris attack humans?

  Courtaud and its pack became man-eaters for multiple reasons, summarized as follows:

  War and Battlefields

  Animals existing in the proximity of war zones will alter their behavior. Throughout history, there are accounts of wolves and other predators devouring the fallen in the field of combat. The presence of dead or wounded human cadavers (or those of horses, etc.) on a battlefield furnishes an easy meal, and predators are known to take advantage of such situations, overcoming their natural fear of man. Emboldened by the experience, and now familiar with the taste of human flash, the predator expands its targets to include families of the soldiers, peasants, farmers, etc., in the vicinity, women, children, and the elderly, now living in poor conditions with little cover (their villages having been sacked, homes destroyed, farms burned, etc.). At the time of Courtaud and the wolves of Paris, the Hundred Years’ War between England and France (1337–1453), which, divided into sub-war periods, actually lasted one hundred sixteen years, took an enormous toll in lives: France lost up to half of its total population (according to different historians, between 6.3 and 10 million persons, out of approximately 17 to 20 million) and England up to 30 percent (although the Black Plague also contributed).

  Reduced Fear of Humans

  With their instinct to avoid people reduced, these wolves began, more and more, to feed on human flesh. Slowly, the wolves of Paris, led by an animal unafraid of humans—Courtaud was half dog, so its reaction and behavior toward people would be different from its wolf companions—had learned to tolerate the scent of man and now associated it with a new and readily available prey. Too, rival animals might vie not just for cadavers, but for those humans badly wounded and helpless, a “gateway” experience perhaps leading to even bolder behavior and attacks on the living. However, most persons who could defend themselves or those carrying firearms were left alone; the predators recognized the threat posed by such individuals. Some packs may have become parasitic, tailing troops and armies into combat zones to feed on anticipated dead and wounded. In this way, they became dependent on flesh, “hooked” on it. (Similarly, the man-eating lions of Tsavo, Africa, would ignore wild game or livestock set out as bait, preferring human victims.)

  Ecological Imbalance

  Wild populations of European animals, especially large herbivores, were greatly reduced during medieval times. Massive organized hunts, usually led by royalty and those of the upper classes who were fond of wild meat as well as the sport itself (a connection here to a former primitive lifestyle in which organized parties of hunters and trackers would provide meat to prehistoric clans), had a decidedly detrimental impact. This systematic way of hunting, with more efficient firearms, specially trained dogs, swift horses, and large numbers of assistants (peasants who lived within the feudal district), who were forced to literally “beat” the bushes and frighten game out into the open, extirpated untold numbers of animals. Some animal populations moved to distant, less populated territories, perhaps to the east, far beyond Germany and Austria. Wolves not killed in the hunts and deprived of natural prey started hunting agricultural livestock, which obviously brought them into human contact. Hamlets expanded into villages, towns grew bigger, cities developed. More cultivated land was necessary to feed ever-increasing human populations. The conflict for territory and resources had begun. Only stronger wolf packs, living deep within the woods, where natural prey was still available, could survive. Those pushed closer to human settlements came into contact with this new kind of “animal.” And some were easier to kill than deer or wild goats.

  Why were the wolves of Paris so difficult to track?

  Wolves’ intelligence and unique attributes allow them to be elusive. Accumulated life experience is also very important, since an aged animal has faced situations where, in order to survive, intelligence has played a key role. Wolves learn fast and are highly inquisitive. Let’s list some behaviors that make them remarkable:

  • Wolves usually range a territory well-known to them, and they use multiples routes or tracks in their travels, so they can avoid passing through the same way twice.

  • They have a superb sense of smell, and circle their “headquarters” in order to detect any threatening or unknown scents in the air. They usually travel upwind, air-scenting continuously and remaining undetected.

  • Their eyesight is also excellent. (Dogs, on the other hand, rely more on their noses.) Wolves are capable of differentiating the slow, calm, solid gait of cattle, the mad rushing of fallow deer, the athletic bounds of red deer, and the movement of wild pigs (a slow walk, stopping from time to time to raise their heads). They assess the strength, sex, and health of an animal based on its motions and postures.

  • In that sense, wolves can obviously differentiate humans from wild animals, and the distinct, heavy, more rigid footsteps of men versus the usually lighter gait of women. Children running would almost always trigger a predatory response.

  • Their hearing is also exceptional, enabling them to recognize and identify human voices, animal sounds and calls, bird shrieks, the calls of crows and ravens, barking dogs, and, of course, hunting horns.

  • They are highly mobile, capable of covering great distances in a short time, usually traveling single file, especially on heavy snow, stepping in the paw prints of their leaders.

  • Wolves have a complex way of communicating their moods and desires through a variety of body postures and movements of the tail (which is used as a signal flag). The pack moves in a coordinated way, acting as one (for example, in the case of danger, the pack in unison will crouch, wait, smell, and observe). Body contact is also important to establish dominance. Howling secures territories and avoids wars.

  How do wolves avoid manmade traps, poisons, and bullets?

  Courtaud’s pack, and almost any wolf in the wild, will automatically mistrust any artifact or object found in the forest that has a human scent. This is a basic way wolves recognize traps and snares. Trial—and sometimes fatal error—is another way wolves learn about hidden dangers. For example, when an inexperienced young wolf eats a baited piece of meat filled with poison or other injurious contents, and dies shortly thereafter, the pack would recognize that there is danger in the bait, associating its scent with the result of consuming it: death. As Mannix reveals, balls of meat were stuffed with sharp wooden splinters bent in a circle and tied together with horsehair. The horsehair would dissolve within the animal’s stomach, causing the splinters to snap violently, resulting in internal bleeding and horrible death. In this case, even the wolves could not understand the tricky mechanism that caused a clan member’s death, and so there is now an automatic association made between “foreign” meat, especially human-scented, and death. Courtaud’s wolves generally followed basic rules:

  • Don’t meddle with anything that may have a human origin.

  • Be extremely careful with items that seem out of place, like pieces of meat and strange man-made objects that simply don’t belong in the forest.


  • Keep senses sharp to detect the smallest clues that may lead to anomalies or possible trap sites, such as displaced leaves or freshly cut wood.

  • With regard to poison, it is again trial and error. If a clan member died after eating a certain piece of meat, the survivors would gather “data” from the dead wolf’s mouth, saliva, and blood, and in future, would be able to recognize and avoid the poison.

  • After a time, as Mannix writes, “the pack never ate any-thing they had not killed themselves. Courtaud went a step beyond. He seldom ate anything but humans, whom he was convinced were safe food.” Therefore the pack leader hermetically reinforced its man-eating conventions and in that way, “became” (to Parisians) a loup-garou, a satanic creature craving only human flesh and blood.

  • Human movements are quite conspicuous when we hold a gun or a rifle. Our arms usually are separated from our bodies, kept horizontally, and at the end is a “stick” or blunt object that opens fire. This is more or less the rough picture a wolf may create in its brain, immediately associating this posture as a threat, with its successive loud blast, smell of powder, and perhaps pain.

  How was Courtaud destroyed?

  Courtaud and its pack began to rely more and more on human victims for sustenance, something that almost irremediably made them dependent. This highly irregular and completely unnatural condition was, in the end, turned against their survival. The pack left its wooded Montmartre stronghold, moving near Paris proper, following the human exodus from rural France, as earlier described. The wolves established a new den in proximity to the city walls, where food had become plentiful, as, inside the walls, Paris functionaries were coping not only with a weather disaster, but also with the difficulties of dealing with the remains of those who’d succumbed to one of the worst calamities humanity has faced: the plague.