The Bal Des Ardents
«I am simply Hop-Frog, the jester — and this is my last jest». Those are the words uttered by the protagonist of Edgar Allan Poe’s eponymous short story, one of the most gruesome by the author. I still remember the subtle shiver that ran down my spine when I read it for the first time.
Although enriched by Poe’s imagination, the episode is inspired by a real-life event, the Bal des Ardents, which involved the King of France Charles VI of Valois, known as the Madman.
The story tells of a jester, snatched from his homeland and sent as a gift to a king, together with his dwarf partner, Trippetta. On the occasion of a court ball, Hop-Frog invites the king and his seven ministers to disguise themselves as orangutans to play a joke on the guests and frighten them. The jester persuades the eight aristocrats to get themselves tied up with a chain to make the act even more credible, which, in fact, has the expected effect. The guests are terrified, thinking they are in front of real animals. However, when they realise it is just a hoax, they begin having fun. Then Hop-Frog uses the chains to hang the eight nobles to the large chandelier in the centre of the room and burn them to death, while his eyes shine with madness and a gruesome grin appears on his face.
Upon the death of Charles V, his 12-year-old son became king but was flanked by his uncles as regents until the young man came of age. After assuming complete control of the monarchy, the 20-year-old Charles VI proved to be a better ruler than his relatives. He reduced some taxes and negotiated a cease-fire with England, against whom the Hundred Years’ War was underway. However, a few years later, the sovereign’s behaviour changed radically. Charles became convinced that the failed assassination of one of his close advisors was an attempt on his life. In response, he planned a reprisal against Brittany, which belonged to the king of England at the time. Of course, it was perhaps an overreaction, but Charles was still the king, and everyone assumed he had his reasons. Instead, it was only the first sign of his madness.
The true nature of Charles’ behaviour became evident on a hot day in mid-August. While riding through a forest near Le Mans, the king unsheathed his sword and killed four of his men, barely missing his brother, with whom (one might think otherwise) he got along very well. By now, it was clear that the king was mad. Indeed, he was so mad that doctors considered him hopeless.
On 28 January 1393, Charles’ wife Isabella organised a grand ceremony to celebrate the third marriage of one of his ladies-in-waiting. As was the custom at the time, there would be banquets, shows, and masquerades. For the queen, it was also a way to distract her husband from his illness.
The court councillor Huguet de Guisay proposed that the king and other nobles disguise themselves by covering their bodies with resin and linen threads. In this way, they would appear as the fearsome wild men told about in various legends. Their faces would be covered to conceal their identity.
The seven men entered the banquet hall, staggering and howling like wolves. More than frightened, however, the people were amused. No one knew that their mad king was hiding among them.
As is sometimes the case today at such festivals, even in the Middle Ages, there was no shortage of drunken latecomers. Charles’ brother Louis (the same one the king was about to kill in a fit of madness a few years earlier) entered the room, stinking of alcohol, with some friends. Heedless of the ban on carrying torches, which could have started a fire if they had come into contact with the peculiar disguise, they not only did so but approached one of the dancers to reveal his identity. It took a moment for the costumes to catch fire.
Panic spread among the bystanders. The grooms, the ladies, the knights and the servants ran in every direction. The disguised men cried and struggled from their burns. Four of them died, not before their genitals had fallen to the ground in a puddle of blood, as a monk who witnessed the event described in great detail. Charles managed to save himself by taking refuge under the skirt of his aunt Joan, Duchess of Berry. Observing the scene from that position, for a moment the king’s eyes shone with madness and a sadistic grin appeared on his face.
To know more:
· Barbara W. Tuchman. A Distant Mirror: The Calamitous 14th Century By Barbara W. Tuchman. Ballantine Books, 1979.
· Jan R. Veenstra. Magic and Divination at the Courts of Burgundy and France. BRILL, 1998.
· Susan Crane. The Performance of Self: Ritual, Clothing, and Identity during the Hundred Years War. University of Pennsylvania Press, 2002.
Main picture: public domain
