Fireworks in the Gévaudan

A display of pyrotechnics in 17th-century Germany

August 1765 brought with it another pivotal episode in the chronicle of the Beast: An ill-fated encounter between two royal gamekeepers whose mission was to assist King Louis XV’s gunbearer, François Antoine, in finding and destroying the Beast, and members of an enigmatic local family, the Chastels—father Jean Chastel and his two sons, Pierre and Antoine.

On August 16 at the forest of Mont Chauvet, the gamekeepers of princes asked the boys from La Besseyre-Saint-Mary if the area before them could be navigated safely on horseback.

The Chastels said yes, likely knowing the area referred to was actually a bog.

The first royal horseman’s mount became mired in the morass, panicked, and jettisoned its rider, much to the amusement of the Chastels.

The incident ended badly, at gunpoint, and with the Chastels thrown in jail until François Antoine’s departure in November.

Despite the misadventure, other locals were impressed with François Antoine if not the other envoys from court. During his stay, the gentleman requested that Catholic masses be said in support of the communities and he contributed personally to church charities. 

Touched by the poverty and hard lot of the peasants of the Gévaudan, François Antoine proposed a fireworks display to celebrate the feast day of Saint Louis, which occurs on August 25. (Louis IX [1214–1270], reformer and Crusader, was the only king of France to become a saint.)

At first worried they might be taxed for this event, the peasants relaxed after assurances this would not be so. Some brought forth foodstuffs and even wine they kept hidden from tax collectors to share with the man sent to help them by a far-away king.

Using fireworks he’d set aside to use in flushing the Beast from the forest, François Antoine and his assistants presented a grand spectacle. The loud and colorful pyrotechnics (which until the Revolution evinced the power of the crown) awed the countryfolk.

As a subject and servant of Louis XV himself, here on a mission he knew he was expected to wrap up very, very soon, François Antoine felt an affinity for these souls.

“We will soon destroy this Beast!” he shouted at the end of the show.

Most of the paysans could not understand his French, but smiled and nodded, the kaleidoscope of fleeting lighting effects lingering in their minds and thunder of explosions echoing in their ears.

The cause of the show, the Beast, had also observed it from not-so-far away, more curious than frightened.

Days later, a big wolf was killed at the end of August,  and, as nearly one year ago, when a similar wolf was killed on September 20, 1764, the question was on everyone’s mind: Had the Beast been destroyed at last?

Illustration: "Furttenbach Feuerwerk" by Joseph Furttenbach (1591-1667). Licensed under Public Domain via Wikimedia Commons - https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Furttenbach_Feuerwerk.jpg#/media/File:Furttenbach_Feuerwerk.jpg