The Ball of the Burning Men

Join Kelli as she goes over the Ball of the Burning Men, an event during King Charles VI's reign in France where 6 men - charivari dancers dressed as wild men in very flammable costumes - caught fire. And one of the men was the King himself - Charles VI.

In today's episode, we go over the historical context of the time, including the Hundred Years War. Then, we look into Charles VI, sometimes called Charles the Mad, to understand how he ended up in a flammable costume on fire at a ball.

And don't worry - the King survived. But not everyone was so lucky.

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Transcript

The Ball of the Burning Men
Intro
Welcome to A Popular History of Unpopular Things, a mostly scripted podcast that makes history more fun and accessible. My kind of history is the unpopular stuff - disease, death, and destruction. I like learning about all things bloody, gross, mysterious, and weird. 

We’re in the middle of the holiday season now and getting ever closer to Christmas, so I thought, why not celebrate with a fancy ball? But APHOUT style, which means a ball that ends in death. :)

So there’s this picture in the Wellcome Collection of a masquerade ball, where there are dancers wearing hairy, shaggy costumes, but they’re on fire. It was a ball for an upcoming marriage for one of the queen’s ladies-in-waiting, in January 1393. The hairy dancing men were the entertainment, but no fire was supposed to be allowed inside the room. For obvious reasons.

Take a look at this picture. Take a gooooood long look at it. What we’re looking at here are men, dressed in highly flammable costumes, dancing at a ball for an upcoming high-society marriage for one of the queen’s ladies-in-waiting. The hairy men were the entertainment, but no fire was allowed inside the room. For obvious reasons. But as you can see, the men are already on fire.

One of the guests didn’t get the memo and arrived with torches, and the dancers caught fire - and one of them was the French King himself, Charles the sixth, also unfortunately called Charles the Mad.

Today, we’re going to learn about the history of the Bal des Ardents [baal deys are-don], known in English as the Ball of the Burning Men. And I actually put effort into that French pronunciation, thankyouverymuch! 

Now the Ball of the Burning Men… well it’s exactly what it sounds like. A ball, where a bunch of men caught on fire - the King got lucky and survived, but the other dancers died. 

So today, we’re going to take a look at the history surrounding this event. First, we’ll look at the reign of Charles VI to get a good sense of who he is and why he’d don a hairy flammable outfit to dance around at a ball. Then, we’ll look at the event itself to find out what happened and how it went so horribly wrong. And all of this happened in the midst of the Hundred Years War - so does the event connect to that war at all? Well, let’s find out together.

Let’s get started!

Historical Context
This event took place during the reign of King Charles VI, so I want to take a look at who he was and what France looked like when he reigned. 

But before we talk about Charles VI and his mental state, we need to look at the bigger picture. My favorite! I love a big-picture historical context! And today’s big-picture historical context, the backdrop to everything going on in France in the late 14th century, is the Hundred Years War.

One thing that always annoyed me about the Hundred Year’s War, and I remember griping about this to my students in AP World, is that it wasn’t a hundred years long. It was actually 116 years, lasting from 1337-1453. I guess “116 Year’s War” doesn’t have a good ring to it. But other wars managed to do it! I mean think about the 7 year’s war!

But… that’s not important.

The Hundred Years War was fought on and off between France and England over - what else - land. All wars are fought over land - whether it’s the political legitimacy that comes from territorial expansion - I covered that in my Wicker Man episode - or the access to resources, all war is fought over land. And if someone out there right now is like “yeah but Kelli, the Trojan War was fought over a woman! Helen of Troy!” I will remind you that if the Trojan War was real, it wasn’t like the story we get from Homer’s Iliad, okay?

I’m really off-topic. Sorry! Back to the Hundred Years War!

So when the war started in 1337, England had some land over in what is today France. Why? Well, it was land associated with the Plantagenets, the English Medieval ruling family who produced 14 Kings and other royals from 1154 to 1485. So, the Hundred Years War, the Black Death, and all that good feudal stuff happened during the Plantegenet’s reign. They’re my favorite ruing dynasty because there was just so much drama. Even if you don’t know a lick about history, you certainly know some of them by name - King Richard the Lionheart, and King John, of Robin Hood fame, were Plantagenets. And perhaps you’ve heard of Richard III, the last Plantagenet King, who has all sorts of nasty rumors attached to his name thanks to Shakespeare’s play. I’m doing an episode on him in 2025! It’s fascinating stuff that ended with his death at the Battle of Bosworth Hill.

Oh my god I cannot stop going off on a tangent. This is what happens to me when I do medieval stuff - it’s my favorite era, so I want to talk about everything, everywhere, all at once.

But anywho.

The Plantagenets were also known as the House of Anjou, which is in Northwestern France - as such, French was their native language. So when the Plantagenets came to power, they controlled England as well as parts of France that belonged to their family. Over time, the possession of Plantagenet lands in France grew and shrank, and in the beginning of the Hundred Year’s War, they primarily controlled the Bordeaux region on the Western coast. You know, wine country. Aquitaine.

But the real trigger for the Hundred Year’s War was Edward III of England who took the Throne after his father Edward II was kicked out of power by his wife Isabella and her lover Roger Mortimer. I’m telling you, Plantagenet history is juicy juicy stuff. The War of the Roses, fought between two rival branches of the Plantagenets, the Yorks and Lancasters, is what Game of Thrones is based on. So, just putting it out there. Very juicy history.

So when Edward III became King, he claimed the entire French throne as his inheritance. Bold move, Cotton. It might sound outlandish to do that, just claim the entire French throne as his own, but here’s his argument. The French King, Charles IV, died in 1328 with no male heir. This was a complication. Charles’ sister was Edward III’s mother, Isabella. But Isabella couldn’t become Queen - France passed its titles to sons of Kings. So, with no male heir, who would it go to? The French line, the Capets, ended with Charles IV. His cousin, Philip of Valois, took over. But Edward believed that since he had a direct line to the King, as the late Charles IV was his Uncle, and the previous French King Philip IV his grandfather, that he should rule France. As well as England.

Yeah, the new king wasn’t going to let that one happen without a fight.

So in response, the new French King took Edward’s family lands in Aquitaine, where the Bordeaux wine country is. In return, Edward declared war on France, and thus began the Hundred Years War. Which was actually 116 years.

Now when Philip VI of Valois died, his son John the Good took over. Then John’s son Charles V, also known as Charles the Wise, took over. And then we get Charles V’s son, Charles the sixth, who is the main character in today’s story. And he is known to history as both Charles the Beloved, and Charles the Mad.

So let’s dig deeper into Charles, why he was given those epithets, and how it connects to the Hundred Years War.

Charles the Mad
When the elder Charles the V died in 1380, his son, our Charles the Mad, was only 11 years old. For a while, he ruled with some of his uncles as regents - those who govern on behalf of a young royal when they can’t make certain decisions for themselves. France wouldn’t function properly, especially while at war against England, with an eleven-year-old on the throne, right? Later, around 1387 to 1388, Charles was of age, dismissed his regents, and took over full control of France. And things were fine until 1392, just one year before the Ball of the Burning Men, when he first started to show signs of mental illness.

So there was an assassination attempt against a man named Oliver de Clisson, who was the leader of his group of counselors. Charles took this assassination attempt to also be an attack on him and the French monarchy. So, in retaliation, he marched on the man behind it - John IV, Duke of Brittany. Ok, fine. This stuff happens in Medieval history.

But here’s where things get weird.

Outside Le Mans on the way to Brittany, Charles draws his weapons and without warning charges on his own household knights, including his brother, Louis. He apparently cried out “Forward against the traitors! They wish to deliver me to the enemy!” and then killed four of his own men. He even hit and then chased his brother through the forests for about an hour until the poor King collapsed and fell into a coma for four days.

This was the first instance, of many, of what many historians believe was paranoid schizophrenia. 

And as if it wouldn’t be difficult enough for Charles to be dealing with his own internal mental struggles, he now also had to deal with the intense political situation boiling around him; his uncles, assuming him to be unfit, started trying to take power back, leading to political instability. And then of course there’s the Hundred Year’s War going on in the background.

Jean Froissart, a contemporary writer who wrote the all-important Chronicles in the late 14th century, detailing events in Medieval France and England in the 14th century, writes of Charles that, quote,

The whole of the French nation was saddened by the illness which the king [Charles VI] contracted… for he was till then high in the love and favor of his subjects, and because he was the head, the distress was all the more deeply felt. When the head of a body is sick, all the limbs suffer.

End quote.

As Froissart hints at, Charles up to this point was a very well-loved King. So he was known as Charles the Beloved. But after this attack in the woods, he became more commonly known as Charles the Mad, and his bouts with mental illness kept coming back, on and off for months at a time, until his death in 1422. 

As another quick example, Charles once asserted that he was made of glass, so he tried to do things to ensure he wouldn’t crack and break, like sewing iron rods into his clothes to protect him against bumping into things or other people. It’s called “glass delusion,” and Charles isn’t the only famous person to have suffered from it. But maybe that’s a story for another day.

It’s in this context, a French King suffering from mental illness with intense political stress all around him, that we get to today’s main event, the Ball of the Burning Men. 

The Ball of the Burning Men
On January 28th, 1393, there was to be a celebration. King Charles’ wife, Isabeau of Bavaria, put together a masquerade for Catherine de Fastaverin, one of her ladies in waiting. A lady in waiting, in short, attends to a noblewoman. Or in this case, the Queen.

It was going to be her third marriage, and according to the late historian Barbara Tuchman in her book, A Distant Mirror: The Calamitous 14th Century, a widow’s remarriage was usually celebrated with a slightly mocking tone, especially if the marriage happened too soon after the late-husband died. So, in accordance with the times, they went with a folk custom known as charivari to celebrate.

Charivari is a mock parade of sorts, and it differs depending on the context of the celebration. But in every case, charivaris are loud, discordant affairs, where the goal is to make as much noise as possible by beating on pots, pans, or anything in grabbing distance. Sometimes, and usually, the goal is to shame and/or publicly humiliate the target - think Cersei Lannister walking the streets of King’s Landing, naked, with her hair cut, while the Septa Unella walks behind her, ringing a bell, chanting ‘SHAME!’ That’s an example of a charivari.

But for the French lady-in-waiting, it was more so just to poke fun a bit. And it also served as a distraction for King Charles, still suffering from his psychotic break.

A member of Charles’ Court decided that the charivari should have six men dancing about in costume as wild men of the woods. To make it authentic, the costumes were made of linen, doused in resin, and then decorated with flax - this made them look hairy and shaggy from head to tow. Then, these highly flammable costumes were sewn onto each man’s body, so they fit snugly. This also meant there was no easy way out of it - no buttons, no clasps… just sewn right on. It would need to be cut off to be removed. A similar mask was made to obscure the dancers’ identities, and part of the fun was guessing who was dressed up in costume. And we know that one of these wild men was King Charles.

So why was Charles put in costume? That’s the first thing I want to know before I continue. Why did he go along with this?!

Well, part of the reason for the entire charivari was to help raise the King’s spirits, after he had just suffered that mental breakdown in the woods outside Le Mans only a few months prior. And how fun might it be to dance around in costume, nobody knowing it was you?

Well, Queen Isabeau knew her husband was one of the dancers. But more on that later.

Part of the fun of being a charivari dancer was how they could act - think of it like Halloween. Some people put on costumes so they can be someone else for a while, right? It’s an opportunity to hide behind a facade and enjoy some anonymity. And by dressing up like a wildman, the King could do just that.

The charivari dancers jumped around in a frenzy, howling and snarling like wolves, yelling out obscenities. This goes along well with the point of charivaris - to be loud, discordant, and perhaps mock the intended recipient. As they jumped around, they invited the guests to guess their identities, and I’m sure it was a fun time. Lots of booze involved, I can imagine. I know for a fact there were barrels of wine there.

But since the men’s costumes were flammable, there was no fire allowed at the event. Everyone in attendance was told before the festivities began. But not everyone arrived on time.

The King’s brother, Louis, Duke of Orleans, the same one he attacked in the woods during his first mental break, showed up late and drunk with a few others. They didn’t get the memo about the torches. 

Now sources vary on this next part, but the general consensus is that Louis held up a torch to one of the men’s faces to figure out who he was, and a spark caused the outfit to catch fire, and the whole thing went up in flames. It didn’t take long before the fire spread to the other costumes, and all the wildmen were engulfed.

Except, luckily, King Charles.

At the time, he was standing away from the other five dancers. What we know is that his Aunt Joan, Duchess of Berry, threw her skirt over her nephew-King to prevent any flames from reaching him. It’s not clear how he got over there, and historians disagree on the finer points based on different sources and accounts, but the King was spared.

Jean Froissant in his Chronicles notes that, quote,
The King, who proceeded ahead of [the dancers], departed from his companions ... and went to the ladies to show himself to them ... and so passed by the Queen and came near the Duchess of Berry.

End quote.

So if we take Froissart at face value, the King was lucky enough to have walked away in the moments before his brother showed up and inadvertently ruined the party. But Froissart wasn’t there, so we can’t take what he said as 100% fact.

But regardless, the other five dancers did catch on fire. You can imagine the chaos as these men, on fire, were running around screaming, unable to get their costumes off, their skin melting, burning alive. And here’s a fun quote from another contemporary chronicler, also not there, but who lived in the same period at least - the Monk of St. Denis. Quote:

Four men were burned alive, their flaming genitals dropping to the floor… releasing a stream of blood.

End quote.  

Beautiful writing. And from a Monk, too! So scandalous!

One of the five on fire jumped into a barrel of wine and stayed there until the whole ordeal was over, saving him from death. But the other four died, either on the scene or a few days later from the burns. 

Froissart, in his chronicles, places the blame squarely on the brother’s shoulders - Louis, Duke of Orleans. He writes, quote,

And thus the feast and marriage celebrations ended with such great sorrow ... [Charles] and [Isabeau] could do nothing to remedy it. We must accept that it was no fault of theirs but of the Duke of Orléans.

End quote.

Building off this, a contemporary French theologian named Jean Petit, who, by the way, is known for publicly defending the political killings of rulers, argued that Louis, Duke of Orleans purposely brought fire to the Ball in an attempt to kill his brother in retaliation for the attack in the woods a few months back outside Le Mans. There was even a rumor that Louis and Isabeau were having an affair! But that’s just speculation, of course. Unlikely to be true.

Louis, Duke of Orleans, suffered a massive hit to his reputation. We know he was blamed for what happened, but he was later assassinated in 1407 by his cousin because of, quote, “vice, corruption, sorcery, and a long list of public and private villainies.”

Coupled with Charles’ mental instability and periodic breakdowns, the French monarchy was in crisis, and it ended with a civil war that lasted for a few decades. Once it calmed down, the French were able to refocus on the English slowly taking their lands, and kicked them out of France for good, ending the Hundred Years War in 1453.

Come to think of it, 1453 was a big year in world history… that’s the same year that Constantinople fell. Huh. Big year, big year. I’ll have to muse on that one a bit longer.

So when we look back on the Ball of the Burning Men, on the surface we see a crazed King, trying to distract himself from his mental illness, participating in a charivari poking a bit of fun at his wife’s lady-in-waiting. 

But when we take a step back and look at the bigger picture, we see a bit more here - the French King, likely suffering from schizophrenia, was born into a world at war against the English. The tensions between the two rival nations overshadowed his entire reign, and the enuring civil war that broke out when his brother Louis Duke of Orleans was assassinated, perhaps in part due to his awkward relationship with King Charles over the years, put a strain on the French monarchy. In fact, from this period onwards, the people’s opinions of the French monarchy changed - the royal Court now had a reputation for decadence and immorality, something that we can perhaps track over time until we get to the reasons behind the French Revolution.

But at the end of the day, the Ball of the Burning Men is yet another juicy story from Medieval history - one that started off as a raucous celebration, but ended in death and tragedy. And melted skin in flammable fur suits.
Outro
Thanks for joining me for this episode of A Popular History of Unpopular Things. My name is Kelli Beard, and I hope you’ve enjoyed the story of the Ball of the Burning Men. Thank you for supporting my podcast, and if you haven’t already checked out my other episodes, go have a listen!

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