Lore - Episode 34: All the Lovely Ladies

Episode Date: May 16, 2016

Folklore has often developed as a response to real-world events, but the opposite has also been true. History has, upon occasion, unintentionally confirmed ancient tales. And nowhere is this more evident, or more bloody, than in the tale of one particular 16th-Century countess. * * * Official Lore Website Access premium content!  

With the past few decades, a vast global audience has been rediscovering ancient fairy tales through the lens of the animated films pioneered by Disney. They've simplified and popularized some of the bigger stories such as Cinderella and Aladdin and brought needed attention to lesser known tales like The Snow Queen or Little Mermaid. But growing up and watching the classics, what struck me the most wasn't the animation or the music, but the common appearance of that one key figure in so many tales, the evil woman of power. We can see versions of her in Sleeping Beauty and Snow White, and she's there fresh and modern as the wealthy socialite, Cruella DeVille. It's a common thread in folklore, in some form or another.

Sometimes she's a cruel stepmother, while other times she's the witch in the faraway castle. Everywhere we look, the image of the woman who rules through violence and fear is right there, waiting for us. There are a few reasons why women, not men, have been featured as the most frightening fairy tale villains throughout the ages. Some experts say it's because mothers have tended to be the most powerful authority figure in the lives of children throughout history. Making their fictional counterparts evil was an easy way to make the dangers seem more understandable to young minds. Others point to a patriarchal system built to teach everyone that power should only belong to men, which might just be the biggest fairy tale of them all. Throughout history,

when women have taken on positions of power, they've shown themselves to be just as wise and benevolent as men, sometimes more so. But that hasn't caused the archetype to vanish from folklore. In many ways, folklore as we know it wouldn't even exist without these powerful women, good or bad. It's in the edge cases, though, where life too closely imitates art, that things get complicated. Because tucked into the dark corners of history, there are stories of real women with real power who have caused real, heart-pounding terror. Sometimes, the evil queen is real. I'm Aaron Mankey, and this is Lore. Standing on any of the streets in the small Slovakian village of Caktis might make you long

for idyllic European life. Tall hedges front each of the homes, and you can catch a glimpse of satellite dishes on most of them. Expensive cars sit in the driveway, but there's an overwhelming feeling of culture and class. A sense of an older time. It's hard not to love the lush greenery, the ancient stones, and the centuries-old buildings. It sounds perfect to me. And maybe it is, if that's your thing. But just a mile and a half away, inside a dark forest and set up on a rocky hill sits something that pushes Caktis into the realm of fantasy, a ruined castle. The relationship between the castle and the village is fairly symbiotic today. Prior to restorations of about a decade ago, tourists were known to actually camp inside the crumbling walls,

and locals have even held cookouts there. But 400 years ago, things were different, and it all started with a little girl. When Elizabeth married a young count from a noble family in 1575, the Count's family gifted the young couple with an estate of their own. Not that Elizabeth needed charity. Far from it, she was born into an influential family who ruled over a part of Hungary called Transylvania, now part of modern-day Romania. Her family had produced knights, judges, and a cardinal in the Catholic Church. Her uncle was even the king of Poland. It was safe to say that Elizabeth had powerful connections. When she and Count Ferentz married in 1575, she was just 14 years old, and he was 20.

By his own mother's admission, Ferentz wasn't the sharpest tool in the shed, but he sure was athletic, and in the years to come, he would develop a reputation as a hero of war. Because her lineage outranked his own, though, she kept her surname rather than taking on that of her husband. As a result, history would forever remember her as Elizabeth Boutry. Just a note, if you've ever read about Elizabeth, you might have assumed that her surname, spelled B-A-T-H-O-R-Y, is pronounced Bathory. But you'd be wrong. It's Boutry. Trust me, I did my homework on this. But it's not because of her name that she still whispered about. It's because of the things she did.

Prior to Elizabeth's wedding, in the time between her engagement and marriage to Ferentz, it was rumored that she had become pregnant as a result of an affair with someone of much lower social station. Her future husband took care of the situation in true 16th-century fashion, though. She was moved to a secluded manor house to give birth to the baby, the daughter, it is said, while Ferentz located the father and punished him. The punishment, it seems, was to have him castrated, and then a pack of dogs was set loose on him, tearing him to pieces. It was very possibly a culturally appropriate thing to do, according to the time and place of the events. But I can't help but imagine that even if it was, it was probably just as barbaric

and horrifying to the people who heard about it then as it is to us today. Unexpectedly, though, this small bit of torture seemed to intrigue young Elizabeth more than it should have. And some historians think that it was this spark that set something ablaze inside of her, a hunger to punish others. And some say, a thirst for blood. Just four years after their wedding, Count Ferentz was named the chief commander of all Hungarian troops and led them to battle frequently during the course of the 13-year-long war with the Ottoman Empire, called, get this, the Long War. And it was while he was gone that Elizabeth took over running the castle and the lands around it. But it was also around that time

that rumors began to spread throughout the village near the castle. Today they sound to us like the setup of a horror film or maybe the basis of some dark fantasy novel. But in the late 1500s, this was reality, not fiction. The village would receive frequent visits from staff from the castle up on the hill. And these representatives of the Count and Countess would recruit a small number of young women, girls really by today's standard, and take them off to serve in one of many roles in the royal household. These recovered jobs don't get me wrong. That wasn't the problem. Any young woman in a Hungarian village would dream of being asked to serve in the castle of nobility. Outside was a life of poverty, hunger, disease, and filth. Inside those stone walls,

though, there was hope, hope of safety, hope of a daily meal, and of living conditions that were better than those of the livestock outside. That wasn't the problem. No, the problem, as far as the people of the village were concerned, was that their daughters never came home. The truth of their disappearance was more horrible than anyone in the village might have imagined. And according to some reports, it all began not long after the Count and Countess were wed in 1575. It was shortly after that, when Ference was frequently away at war and Elizabeth was in need of help, as she brought on a small team of personal servants and helpers. It was also reported that

they both loved to treat their servants horribly. Maybe it was the couple's aristocratic upbringing, or their privilege left unchecked. What we do know is that it was when Elizabeth hired an older woman named Anna Darvulia that things began to get darker. Anna, according to a reputation and testimony in Hungarian court documents, was said to be a witch, but at the very least was known for her violence, almost sadistic nature. And as the months and years went on, Anna became the prime facilitator of Elizabeth's love of torture. One document describes how Elizabeth and Anna would take servant girls outside in the middle of winter and force them to lie naked in the snow. Then they would pour cold water over their bodies and wait for it to freeze on their skin.

When they were satisfied that the girls' bodies had become cold enough, they could leave them there to die. In the spring, it was more of the same. Instead of cold fields, though, the girls were brought out in the heat of day, stripped naked against their will, and then covered in honey. Then Elizabeth would watch as insects, drawn by the sweet nectar, would bite and crawl all over the young women. Later, a large room was set up in the lower level of the castle so the torture could be practiced year-round, and it was there the witnesses claimed the countess would have watched the mouths of servants sewn shut, or sharp instruments forced under their fingernails. And she did it all, it seems, for the pure enjoyment of the experience.

In 1604, after a long struggle with an unknown illness, Count Ference passed away. Before doing so, he made legal arrangements that the care of his wife and children should fall to Elizabeth's cousin, Georgie Terzo, the Count Palatine of Hungary. He was one of the most powerful men in the kingdom, and to Ference it seemed like a wise decision. Elizabeth was also apparently a very lonely person, years without her husband by her side, of running the castle and surrounding villages on her own, of being the prime figure of authority in a world where few women enjoyed such power. All of it was incredibly isolating to her, which made Ference death that much more difficult to deal with. After nearly 29 years of marriage, she was well

and truly alone. The loss reportedly left the countess deeply depressed and antisocial, and rightly so, but her response was to retreat to her quarters where she stayed in bed for long periods of time. That didn't mean the torture had to stop, though. In fact, her loss and loneliness only seemed to escalate. Elizabeth had begun to believe that human blood could help her remain young and healthy. Maybe it was the recent loss of her husband that forced her to face her own mortality. Perhaps it was a bit of forgotten local folklore. Some have even suggested that she discovered the idea by accident after a particularly bloody torture session. Whatever the reason, she became obsessed with blood. Rather than go out, she had Anna bring servants to her room.

There, she would cut them, or have portions of their flesh burned with hot metal, and would even bite them on their bodies, sometimes even on their face. But her hunger for violence came with a price, and as a result, these poor young women from the village became scarce. Like an addict, she adapted and started to bring in more and more women of noble birth. She started with daughters of the lowest order of noble families, those with the least amount of wealth and power, but slowly worked her way up the aristocratic chain. And that, more than anything else, was what became her undoing. After hearing some of the rumors from a member of his royal court,

the King of Hungary assigned a trusted advisor to investigate the matter, and his choice was whether a chance or intention, Count Terzo, Elizabeth's cousin and legal caretaker. So in the autumn of 1610, he made his journey to the castle. His arrival was a surprise to Elizabeth and her team of attendants. That might be one of the reasons his investigation was so successful at uncovering the truth. But the Countess might also have just become careless. She had been carrying on her violent torture as habit for three long decades after all. It's easy for anyone to convince themselves they'll never get caught after such a long time. Whatever the reason, when Terzo arrived,

it was immediately clear that something dark had been taking place. And before long, he knew why. What he unearthed, though, was almost beyond belief. The King of Hungary Upon his arrival, Terzo assigned two notaries to begin gathering evidence to support the claims that the King had her rumors of for years. But rather than being difficult to find, the witness testimony began to flood in. Maybe the people sensed an end to the Countess's evil reign. Maybe they finally found hope. Whatever the reason, over 300 people stepped forward to offer testimony against her and her team of helpers. And it wasn't just the village commoners

who spoke up, either. Witnesses included priests and nobles, as well as staff from a number of the Countess's estates. Some spoke of the rumors they heard whispered in the walls of the castle, while others came forward to say that they had witnessed some of Elizabeth's torture sessions firsthand. They described the exposure outdoors, the sharp tools, the hot metal, even the biting. Other servants had only seen the bodies, but they all admitted that the cause of death was always clearly obvious. Death by torture. And those bodies began to turn up, too. Some were found in local graveyards, while others were located in various rooms in the castle, where they'd been hidden away. Charred human bones were found in a number of fireplaces, and other remains were

unearthed on the castle grounds. While the physical evidence was literally being uncovered, so, too, was the elaborate network that the Countess used to gather her victims. Most of the testimony pointed to her team of servants, including the alleged witch, Anna Darvulia, but there were others. Elizabeth had contacts in the surrounding villages that were responsible for finding new women for her to torture. Sometimes, they were hired away as servants under the premise of good wages and fair treatment. Other times, they were simply abducted outright. Finally, Count Terzo had all the evidence he needed to begin a trial, but there were problems from the beginning of that process.

For one, Anna apparently died before the trial could start. Rumors swirled around her role in the string of crimes, ranging from chief executioner to witchcraft, and even to Elizabeth's secret lover. She was someone Terzo wanted to arrest more than all the others, but her death made that impossible. So, he turned to the remaining team of servants. Along with the Countess herself, this entire group of accomplices was arrested on December 30th of 1609 and then held for trial. In January of 1610, the evidence was presented, testimonies were heard, and cases were made. In the end, the group was charged with the death, the murder by torture, mind you, of roughly 80 servants. Servants who once traveled to the castle with hopes of a better life. Servants who,

through no fault of their own, became the object of the Countess's desire. But that's the irony of it all. Elizabeth Bowtree, you see, never went to trial. Because of her high rank and political power, the Countess never stood trial for her crimes. She was the reason for it all, and yet as each one of her personal attendants were tried and convicted, she remained untouched. Like so many of her other abuses of power over the years, she was immune to the full force of the consequences. Yes, she would be punished, but not to the degree that her helpers were. Each and every one of them was convicted, and in each case, they were sentenced to be executed. All except for the Countess.

But not before many of them had a chance to speak for themselves. During the trial that built the argument and laid out the crimes, the trial, mind you, that set the number of those tortured to death at a hard to fathom 80 human lives, one servant added an intriguing testimony. The servant claimed that she had special access to Elizabeth's quarters, and it was during one recent visit, while her mistress was away, that she discovered a journal that the Countess kept, a private journal hidden from sight, and because of that excluded from the evidence presented in the trial. In this journal, the servant girl claimed was a list. The names, as best as Elizabeth could remember, of each and every victim of her love for torture.

It didn't come as a surprise to most of the court that the Countess would do something like that, though. This was a woman who killed for pleasure, who reveled in the bloodshed. Some even claimed that she literally bathed in the blood. No, what was shocking about the journal was the number of entries. While the court supported evidence for 80 or so murders, this servant claimed that the secret journal, which she had seen with her own eyes, exposed the true extent of Elizabeth's evil. According to her, the list had over 650 entries. It seems to me that evil has a way of coming in all shapes and sizes. No matter where we look, there are those who have served to build the legends that we all

have come to fear over the centuries. Thankfully, the evil queens of Disney have seemed to live lives that are a lot less bloody than Elizabeth Bowtree, although that's probably not the best place to start. The folktales that inspired many of those movies are almost just as bloody as the Countess herself. In that, she's not alone. There are skeptics, though. Some think that the accusations brought against her were fabricated by powerful relatives in an effort to take her land and wealth. It was established fact that the King of Hungary himself owed the Countess a large sum of money, and many of the key testimonies during the trial came from people with much to gain by her arrest and imprisonment. Even her own cousin, Counterzo, benefited from

her public downfall. Even though she escaped being put on trial and avoided the executioner's acts that awaited her faithful helpers, Elizabeth Bowtree didn't go unpunished. She lived on, and so did her personal quarters, which can still be toured today, thanks to some recent restoration work that the castle has undergone. Two of the four towers have crumbled to the ground, and there's no longer a roof protecting the interior from the elements. But you can still walk through the lower-level chamber where all the torture was said to have taken place, as well as the wing of the fortress where the Countess lived. In the end, whatever the truth might have been, no victims, 80 or over 600,

Elizabeth Bowtree has gone down in history as the bloody Countess. But her life didn't end with honor and accolades. There was no one to see if her beauty treatments had worked, no one to keep her company, or to endure her torture, no one to talk to at all. Because after the trial, she was placed in her personal quarters, and every single window and door of that room was bricked up, locking her permanently inside. With nothing more than a slot in the door for food, the bloody Countess lived out the last four years of her life, in what must have been nothing short of a nightmare to her. Complete and utter isolation. Take pride in your home with the new Swiffer Power Mop. The new Swiffer Power Mop gives you a

mop and bucket clean in just half the time, leaving you more time to enjoy your home with the ones you love most. Swiffer is proud to sponsor I Heart Radio's Can't Cancel Pride 2023, an evening honoring the LGBTQ plus community, and celebrating organizations creating a more inclusive and equal world. Learn more at Can't Cancel Pride dot com. This episode of Lore was researched, written, and produced by me, Aaron Mankey. Lore is much more than a podcast. There's a book series in bookstores around the country and online, and the second season of the Amazon Prime television show was recently released. Check them both out if you want more lore in your life.

I also make two other podcasts, Aaron Mankey's Cabinet of Curiosities, and Unobscured, and I think you'd enjoy both. Each one explores other areas of our dark history, ranging from bite-sized episodes to season-long dives into a single topic. You can learn about both of those shows and everything else going on all over in one central place, theworldoflore.com slash now. And you can also follow the show on Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram. Just search for Lore podcast, all one word, and then click that follow button. When you do, say hi. I like it when people say hi. And as always, thanks for listening.