@bread.by.day: In the scorching summer of 1518, the narrow cobblestone streets of Strasbourg suddenly became a nightmare dance floor no one could leave. It began on July 14 when a woman named Frau Troffea stepped outside her half-timbered house and started dancing — wildly, silently, without music. She twirled and stomped for hours, then days. Her feet bled. She collapsed from exhaustion, but as soon as she could stand, she danced again. Within a week, 30 more people joined her. By August, 400 men, women, and children were convulsing and leaping in the streets, eyes vacant, bodies drenched in sweat, arms flailing uncontrollably. City officials were terrified. Doctors said it was “hot blood.” Priests blamed Saint Vitus. So they did the worst thing possible — they built a wooden stage, hired musicians and professional dancers, and encouraged more dancing to “cure” it. The mania exploded. People danced until their hearts gave out. Some dropped dead from strokes or sheer exhaustion. Up to 15 people a day died, their swollen feet bleeding into their shoes. The plague lasted over a month before fading as mysteriously as it started. Modern experts point to mass hysteria, ergot poisoning from moldy bread, or both. But for one terrifying summer, an entire city literally danced itself to death.

Bread By Day

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Saturday 21 February 2026 01:52:06 GMT