On a scorching July day in 1518... In the streets of the Holy Roman Empire, that strange event to which history still cannot find an answer began. There was no festival, no celebration. It all went out of control simply because a woman named Frau Troffea started keeping time to an invisible rhythm right in the middle of the street, without stopping.
Within a few days, 34 people—and shortly after, 400 souls—were caught up in the same madness, as if they had entirely lost their willpower. Sleepless, thirsty, starving... They danced for days. Until their soles were torn and their skin peeled off, until their hearts gave out under that tempo. The city had turned into a living nightmare. And what did the mind of that era do? Assuming “their blood has overheated, let them dance more so they burn off their energy,” they erected stages in the public squares and gathered musicians. The result? The circle of death only expanded further.
When we look back today, the issue isn’t just the chemical nightmare of ergot poisoning (a toxic fungus growing on rye crops that induces severe hallucinations and violent muscle spasms), nor is it merely the crushing hunger and religious oppression of the times. The real issue is the way the mind finds itself in a dead end. When the human soul is crushed under pressure and can no longer make its voice heard, the body steps in, choosing the most ruthless way to scream out: “I am here!”
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