The Devil’s Dance
In the scorching summer of 1518, an extraordinary event took root in the ancient city of Strasbourg — an event that would come to be known as the mysterious Dance Plague. It began innocently enough, with a few scattered souls swaying and twirling in the streets, their bodies succumbing to a frenzied rhythm. The sweltering heat did not deter them; their exhaustion and bruised feet were forgotten amidst an uncontrollable compulsion to dance. With each passing day, the irresistible draw of this peculiar dance spread like wildfire, capturing the hearts and minds of the people until the city found itself engulfed in an unprecedented epidemic of movement.
This was no ordinary revelry, no mere merrymaking; it was a dance that defied comprehension, defied the very limits of the human form. The afflicted were consumed by an obsession, their bodies driven by an otherworldly compulsion that proved inflexible even in the face of tragedy. Lives were lost, and as the bewildered authorities struggled to solve the mystery, their confusion soon gave way to a desperate sense of urgency. What unseen force had seized the souls of the people of Strasbourg, compelling them to dance in this extraordinary manner?
Footsteps of Dread
Yet, as astounding as this tale may be, it is not the first of its kind to have graced the recesses of history. Centuries earlier, on a chilly Christmas Eve in 1021, a scene unfolded in the German town of Kölbigk that mirrored the perplexing events of Strasbourg. There, amidst the sanctity of a church, a group of 18 individuals gathered, casting aside all restraint as they surrendered themselves to an unrestrained dance of wild abandon. The priest, his sacred duties hindered by the uproar outside, implored them to cease their revelry. His pleas, however, fell on deaf ears as the dancers clasped hands, engaging in a sinful Ring Dance, their voices merged, escalating as they clapped and jumped, creating a chilling harmony. Overwhelmed by fury, the priest resorted to an unusual curse, condemning them to dance relentlessly for an entire year as retribution for their blasphemous mirth. Astonishingly, his curse took hold, for it was not until the arrival of the following Christmas that the dancers were released from their inexplicable trance. Drained of all energy, burdened by repentance, they slipped into an eternal slumber, never to awaken again.
To the modern (and atheist) mind, such accounts may seem implausible, created from people’s fantasy and imagination. However, in the eyes of medieval society, they held an air of credibility, another mystery to be solved within the celestial and supernatural forces that governed their world. While it is true that the chronicles surrounding the Kölbigk incident bear the embellishments of legend, we would be remiss to dismiss them entirely as mere fabrication. Numerous sources, as elusive as they may be, lend credence to the notion that this obscure chronicler’s words may have been embellished around a core of truth. Thus, the tale of Kölbigk is probably one of the earliest known occurrences of such mysterious dance plagues that would haunt humanity throughout the ages.
Intriguingly, throughout history, there have been whispers of other dancing plagues that have faded from the collective memory, their tales also cloaked in obscurity. Chronicles speak of another unstoppable frenzy that gripped the town of Erfurt in 1247, where dancing became an uncontrollable force, sometimes resulting in fatal consequences. In Maastricht, on a bridge spanning the Moselle River, a congregation of 200 individuals engaged in impious dancing until the weight of their fervor brought the structure crashing down, plunging them into a watery grave.
Moreso, in the year 1374, yet another tormenting compulsion to dance swept across western Germany, the Low Countries, and northeastern France, as thousands of people writhed in agony for days or weeks, haunted by horrifying visions and seeking solace from priests and monks.
As time passed, the dance plagues continued to haunt the halls of history. A few decades later, a shocked abbot near the city of Trier bore witness to an extraordinary epidemic, wherein hallucinating dancers leaped and hopped for an astonishing six months, some succumbing to fatal injuries.
Dancing into Oblivion
However, among the numerous recorded events throughout past centuries, it was the extensive outbreak that occurred in the city of Strasbourg in 1518 that was unforgettable. This devastating occurrence claimed the lives of approximately 400 souls, making it one of the most tragic incidents of its kind. The city was afflicted by an intense summer heat, and during this time, men, women, and children fell victim to an unrelenting dance-like compulsion. A chilling chronicle recounts an alarming toll of approximately 15 lives lost each day. Disturbingly, these incidents were not isolated to Strasbourg alone. Similar sporadic cases emerged during the 1500s and 1600s, scattered across Switzerland and the Holy Roman Empire. The phenomenon did not merely afflict individuals but whole families, amplifying the extent of mania’s grip on society.
Today, these dancing plagues have faded into the mists of time, their remembrance overshadowed by their seemingly unbelievable nature. Yet, while doubts may cloud the events at Kölbigk, Erfurt, and Maastricht, the epidemics of 1374 and 1518 stand as undeniable truths. Numerous reliable chronicles from various towns and cities detailfully document the bewildering happenings of 1374. The course of the 1518 epidemic can be traced with remarkable detail, thanks to the invaluable insights provided by municipal orders, sermons, and the writings of the renowned Renaissance physician, Paracelsus.
Among the multitude of theories put forth by contemporary and modern scholars, one prevailing notion emerges: the dancers moved involuntarily. Wracked with agony, they convulsed in pain, their anguished cries silently begging for mercy and assistance. The possibility that ergot, a mold that grows on ripening rye stalks and can induce hallucinations, spasms, and tremors, had been ingested has been raised. Ergotism, caused by consuming contaminated flour, indeed plagued medieval Europe with its epidemics. However, this theory falls short when confronted with the prolonged duration of the dance and the uniformity of the affected population. It fails to explain the geographical pattern, with outbreaks clustering along the Rhine and Moselle Rivers, regions with distinct climates and crops, yet interconnected by water.
Verily, it is through the lens of altered states of consciousness that we begin to uncover the mysterious phenomenon of these dancing epidemics. The unbelievable endurance displayed by the afflicted suggests a trance-like state in which they were less attuned to physical exhaustion and the pain that plagued their battered feet. Descriptions from the 1374 outbreak speak of wild frenzy, visions, and the utterances of devilish names. The dancers exhibited peculiar aversions to pointed shoes and the color red, and they lamented their submersion in a metaphorical “red sea of blood.” Pieter Bruegel the Elder’s evocative drawing from 1564 captures the distant, distracted expressions of women locked in an uncontrollable dance, their faces and expressions divorced from reality, lost in a deep entrancement.
The emergence of an involuntary trance state is closely tied to high levels of psychological distress. It is no mere coincidence, then, that the 1374 dancing plague found fertile ground in the areas ravaged earlier that year by a catastrophic deluge, the most devastating flood of the 14th century. Similarly, in 1518, the people of Strasbourg and its surroundings were burdened by acute distress — a culmination of dire harvests, exorbitant grain prices, the haunting presence of syphilis, and the resurgence of ancient scourges like leprosy and the plague. Even by the unforgiving standards of the Middle Ages, these were years pickled in bitterness and hardship for the beleaguered populace of Alsace.
The Curse
However, understanding the psychological conditions that contributed to the trance state does not provide a complete answer as to why dancing became the chosen outlet for their misery. Why did they not weep, scream, revolt, or descend into sullen silence? To shed light on this aspect, we turn to the invaluable insights gleaned from anthropological field studies.
Accounts of “possession rituals” spanning the Arctic, Andes, Kalahari, and Caribbean reveal that individuals are more likely to enter a trance state when they anticipate its occurrence. Moreover, entranced participants tend to engage in ritualistic behaviors, their thoughts and actions guided by the spiritual beliefs ingrained within their cultures. In Madagascar, for instance, female mediums assume the distinct personas of the spirits they believe inhabit them. Likewise, participants in Vodou rituals adopt the roles of specific deities drawn from a rich pantheon of gods, each with their unique personalities. Thus, we must explore whether the regions afflicted by the dancing plague harbored belief systems capable of channeling widespread despair into an irresistible compulsion to dance.
Within the depths of medieval society, it is plausible that such cultural currents existed. The fusion of Christian teachings with lingering remnants of pagan traditions and folk beliefs fostered a fertile ground for mystical interpretations of the world. Divine punishment, supernatural forces, and otherworldly influences were thrust into the fabric of everyday life. The notion of possession by malevolent spirits or the manipulation of human destinies by cosmic powers would not have been foreign to the medieval mind. In such a climate of strong spiritual beliefs, despair may have found its outlet in the ritualized act of dance, transforming personal anguish into a collective expression of a troubled community.
In the depths of the Rhine and Moselle valleys, various sources, ranging from magnificent altar paintings to ancient chronicles and law books, bore witness to an immense fear coursing through the hearts of those dwelling near the majestic commercial waterways. It was a fear of wrathful spirits, capable of unleashing a curse so bizarre and mystifying, it became known as the dancing affliction.
This peculiar phenomenon, with confirmed epidemics confined solely to this region, snuggled on the western fringes of the Holy Roman Empire, leaving cities trembling in its wake. Strikingly consistent in its nature, these outbreaks plagued urban centers already touched by earlier bouts of the dancing plague. It painted a clear picture of epidemiological intrigue, suggestive of a cultural contagion at play. Only where the seeds of belief in a dancing curse had already taken root could psychological distress morph into the frenzied dance. Periodically, when physical and mental anguish rendered people increasingly susceptible, the specter of the dancing plague would swiftly reemerge. All it took was for one or a few unfortunate souls, convinced they were ensnared by the curse, to succumb to an involuntary trance, unwittingly personifying the role of the accursed: dancing, leaping, and hopping without respite for days on end.
The course of these epidemics also hinted at a deep-seated piety underlying the dance. Historical records from the outbreaks of 1374, 1463, and 1518 reveal a striking belief that dancing both afflicted and held the key to its own remedy. Phenomenal accounts arose of individuals who, having momentarily regained their sanity, willingly surrendered themselves to the dance, hoping that only through this unabating expression would the curse be lifted.
When Madness Takes the Stage
In Strasbourg, during the hectic events of 1518, authorities even imposed a mandate upon the dancers to continue their ceaseless motion day and night. To facilitate this, a dedicated stage was erected at the city’s heart, where they could dance freely. Professional dancers and musicians were employed to ensure perpetual movement. But this ill-conceived policy birthed a catastrophe of unimaginable proportions. The epidemic escalated dramatically, as the strategy unwittingly aided the spread of a psychic contagion. In truth, nothing could have been more effective in transforming the dance into a full-scale epidemic than compelling its victims to perform their frenzied routines in the most public of spaces. The authorities had inadvertently transformed a crisis into a living nightmare, similar to the haunting canvases of Hieronymus Bosch.
The essential role of belief became further evident in the sudden abatement of these epidemics once victims sought solace in prayer at revered shrines or participated in elaborate exorcism rituals. Equally significant were the accounts from the mid to late 1500s, which revealed the emergence of cults centered around entranced dancing in towns near the Black Forest and the mouth of the Rhine. Distressed men and women willingly plunged themselves into a trance-like state, accompanied by musicians, and set off on a hypnotic dance toward shrines dedicated to the patron saints synonymous with the dancing curse: St. Vitus and St. John. It seemed that the dread that once plagued them had been harnessed and transformed into a controlled ritual of ecstatic religious fervor. A psychic epidemic had been transformed into a sacred spectacle.
By the mid-1600s, if not earlier, the torment of compulsive dancing had ceased to haunt the European populace. Its disappearance coincided with the diminishing influence of fervent supernatural beliefs that had sustained these peculiar occurrences. In the late 17th century, the term St. Vitus’ Dance was reappropriated to describe an entirely different medical condition. Yet, these bizarre events linger as an enduring lesson, highlighting the power wielded by our beliefs and expectations in shaping the manifestation of psychological distress.
All images were taken from Google Images.
