A rather unusual celebration took place in France on January 28, 1393 — a masked ball, given by Isabeau of Bavaria, wife of King Charles VI. The ball, which was later given the name Bal Des Ardents or Ball of the Burning Men, celebrated the remarriage of one of the Queen’s ladies-in-waiting. The quaint French custom on such an occasion called for rowdiness and tomfoolery.
At one point during the festivities, six men capered about in costumes portraying wood savages. Their linen outfits were soaked with resin to which flax was attached, making them shaggy from head to toe. They howled like wolves, shouted obscenities, and taunted the audience, inviting them to guess their identities. One of the six men was King Charles himself.
The King’s brother and a drinking buddy arrived late to the party, already drunk. They held torches close to the savages in an attempt to guess their identities — too close, setting the men ablaze. A Duchess, standing near the King, threw her gown over him to protect him. One of the other men jumped into a tub of ale. The other four perished.
Whether or not there was any cause and effect, it was about this time that Charles began to suffer bouts of mental instability, during which he would attack and frequently kill those near him. Modern psychologists, with their advanced knowledge, might refer to the King as mad as a hatter. Charles himself insisted that he was a stable genius and the best king in the history of France.
One of his most celebrated bouts with reality was his belief that he was made of glass and might be easily broken. As a result he allowed no one to touch him and anyone who approached him was required to tread lightly on tiptoe. The windows of the castle remained shut at all times to create an absolutely quiet environment, lest any sudden noise might — well, you know. Modern psychologists refer to this malady as glass delusion or if you break it, you buy it syndrome.
Charles endured his various idiosyncrasies until he was finally shattered in 1422.
Adios Mis Amigos
On January 28, 1948, a DC-3 plane carrying 32 passengers crashed in California’s Diablo Mountain Range, killing everyone aboard. News reports listed only the pilot, first officer and stewardess by name; the others were identified as deportees. The Hispanic victims were buried in a mass grave marked “Mexican Nationals.” At least they were not identified as rapists and murderers and other really bad people.
Woody Guthrie wrote a song about the incident:
Wretched Richard's Almanac 