Park of a Thousand Pranks

honored tradition enjoyed by families all over the world. Whether it's Disneyland, The Magic Kingdom or Universal Studios, vacationer's waits in excruciating lines and shell out wads of cash to visit resorts filled with talking animatronics, light shows and themed rides. But there's one place that you may not have heard of that offered a bit of a twist on that formula. Closed now, but in its day it was unparalleled in

the world of amusement parks. Located near the village of Hesden in northern France, it was once home to a breathtaking collection of animatronic prank machines worthy of Home Alones Kevin McAllister. Unlike the booby traps from that movie, these machines were not intended to maim or injure intruders, but to shock, startle, and delight the estate's guests. They still

came at you pretty hard, though. Pipes in the floors would spurt visitors with jets of water from below, while opening the wrong book could get you a face full of flour or soot. One animatronic statue instructed you to rush to the next room. If you did as you were told, you encountered a large machine that would start beating you with sticks. There was also larger walkthrough experiences, similar to the ones that you might find today around

these Sleeping Beauty Castle at Disneyland. The largest one was the Chamber of the Golden Fleece, a room with elaborate frescoes depicting the myth of Jason and the Argonauts. A wooden hermit statue near the front recited parts of the story to you, and as you came to the end, a trapdoor opened in the ceiling, pelting you with snow and rain to mimic a thunderstorm. But things weren't much

safer once you got outside the main building. The sprawling grounds were crafted to look like natural woodlands and marshes similar to the way that Disneyland approximates wilderness in its Jungle cruise areas, live deer ran through the trees and fish swam in the ponds. There were plenty of animatronic delights there too, though, like mechanized fountains, trees full of robotic birds, and a bridge guarded by mechanical monkeys with badger pelts for skin. However, the wolf that prowled the

grounds was very, very real and not remotely tame. It doesn't seem like any attempt was made to keep it locked up, even after the neighbors complained that it was killing their livestock. The wolf was simply outfitted with a collar of bells so that people would know when it was headed their way. Now, you might be wondering why guests would visit such a park, considering the dangers and flat out annoyances they faced at Hesden. Part of the

draw may have been the exclusivity. Hesden didn't sell tickets or allow the public to enter. Anyone who stepped inside was a personal guest of the estate's owner. Mainly, though, people came to Hesden because you couldn't experience its delights or surprises anywhere else. There was no Disneyland or Universal Studios. In fact, neither park would open for well over six hundred years. But just like the Wolf, Hesden's Castle was real.

Its founder, Count Robert the second of Artois, was a lord who lived near the end of the thirteenth century. His mechanical pranks, which he called engines of Amusement, were inspired by a trip to Italy, where he likely encountered advanced animatronics from the Middle East. We don't know what inspired the count to turn his estate into such a unique place, but his daughter continued to maintain and expand it after his death. Unfortunately, the castle was destroyed in

fifteen fifty three, along with all the machines. Most of what we know about Hesden comes from maps and receipts for the payments to a fleet of engineers and metal workers who built and maintained the animatronics. There are also a few surviving accounts from visitors, like one bishop who compared Hesdin to the Garden of Eden, and that's a ringing endorsement from a medieval Catholic leader. He might as

well have called it the happiest place on Earth. Throughout history, there have been many examples of people enduring pain for the sake of physical appearance. Tattoos and piercings are two of the most common examples, both of which can be traced back to ancient civilizations. But unlike traditional body art, some beauty practices cause people to go to extreme links. One such practice originated in the mid nine hundreds AD in an area of southern China. A girl named Yo

Nyang good in the wings of a small stage. Yao was a servant to the Emperor Li Yu, and part of her job was to entertain the emperor and his court. No one in the audience knew that they were about to see something unlike anything they had seen before. The flutes, soft melody, and twinkling chimes cued Yoo's entry to the stage. She walked slowly, careful not to fall, and when Yao appeared on stage, the audience gasped. It wasn't her dress, or her makeup, or even her dance moves that was

so captivating. It was her feet. Each one was bound in white silk so tight they appeared like little crescent moons, and everyone in the room thought that they looked beautiful as a cherry on top. Yo delicately balanced on top of a lotus shaped platform. Her performance cast a spell on the whole room, and the emperor was mesmerized. Afterward,

Yao became one of the emperor's favorite servants. His other servants wanted to make their feet look just like hers, and soon the trend spread to the common people as well. Lotus feet, as they became known, were a sign that a woman did not have to do any physical labor to support herself, and that her husband could support her instead. This way of life was aspirational in Chinese society at the time. Soon lotus feet became a sign of overall wealth.

A young woman looking for a husband would have better prospects if her feet were fashioned this way. However, this appearance was so in demand that at some point it stopped being enough for women to wrap their feet so Instead, before they even reached a marrying age, young girls underwent a permanent, painful procedure. And this is what the procedure involved, and it might be disturbing to hear, so please listen

with care. First, a girl's feet were soaked in hot water, Then her toenails were clipped short, her toes were massaged with oil and then broken and bound against the soles. And then finally her feet were folded in half and wrapped in long silk or cotton strips. And this wasn't a one time event. It could take months or even years for someone's feet to permanently hold this shape. Many of the steps were repeated to ensure the arches stayed

bent in half. Often those undergoing this process were required to walk long distances to force their arches into this shape. In the end, bound feet were only about three or four inches long. As you can imagine, this effectively disabled girls and women. They lost the ability to move around freely and independently. But bound feet were so in fashion

that it didn't seem to matter. Not only that, some young men's parents wouldn't allow them to marry a woman whose feet weren't bound, so a woman's future often depended on it. Therefore, the practice continued for centuries. At some point in the nineteenth century, people started to acknowledge the

true perils of footbinding more widely. It was bad enough that women couldn't move around easily, but their feet were also prone to infection, and their broken toes would heal, but the bones would break more easily after that, and the lack of balance caused women to fall and break other bones as well. Never mind the fact that these women often started this process when they were children, meaning that they had no choice in the matter. This was

forced on them. They were powerless to stop it. In eighteen eighty three, the first official anti footbinding society was founded. From there, people urge their local governments to take action. By nineteen twelve, the Chinese government had banned footbinding nationwide, but many people still viewed lotus feet as a symbol

of beauty and continue the practice in secret. It has taken decades, but thankfully the practice is almost entirely gone, and it stands as a reminder that oftentimes beauty and freedom do not go hand in hand, that beauty shouldn't involve pain or suffering or abuse, and that when it comes to freedom, sometimes popularity is the enemy. I hope you've enjoyed today's guided tour of the Cabinet of Curiosities. Subscribe for free on Apple Podcasts, or learn more about

the show by visiting Curiosities Podcasts. The show was created by me Aaron Manke in partnership with How Stuff Works. I make another award winning show called Lore which is a podcast, book series, and television show and you can learn all about it over at the Worldoflore dot com. And until next time, stay curious.