The Halloween Tableaux of Fortune: 1894

Bonhams Auctions

HALLOWEEN GAMES.

Tableaux of Fortune, Cupids Dream and the Years Forecast By Electricity

A very new Halloween play and one which will be carried out most beautifully even to its most minute detail in a very fashionable set of New York young people is a “game” called the tableau of fortune. And let it be stated right here that all entertainments on Halloween night are called “games,” although l they may not partake of the nature of play nor yet be intended for the juvenile members of the family.

 After the audience is seated, little tickets are distributed until each has a slip of pasteboard. Upon the slip there is the date, the initials of the hostess, a blank space, some little ornamentation like a bit of hand decoration, and a number.

In front of the audience hangs a curtain, while palms at either side, and just visible rearing their heads behind it, prepare the guests for something very fine to come.

There is a tinkle of a bell and number one appears with a big figure, mysteriously lowered over the upper edge of the curtain.

“Who holds number one?” asks the mistress of ceremonies.

“My card is number one,” replies some one–say Miss Brown.

“Well, Miss Brown, I have the honor to announce that the coming tableaux will reveal your fortune for the coming year. Note carefully the picture. It will be repeated in your own life within a twelvemonth. Let the curtain rise!”

As the curtain is pulled away there stands revealed a bride, in full bridal costume. There is the trailing high-necked gown of white, the veil, the orange blossoms, the prayer book—nothing is lacking. Of course the bride is very beautiful and the tableau is a pretty one, without considering the joy which must have been experienced by Miss Brown at the thought of herself so beautifully arrayed “within a year.”

When number two is called and the owner of the number has responded to it, the curtain again is drawn aside. This time the owner of the tableau is less fortunate, for the picture is that of a Cinderella seated by the fireplace in rags. Her shoes show the need of a fairy godmother and adown her tear-stained face the tears are still falling. A little histrionic talent and some knowledge of stage effects might not be disadvantageous here.

The next tableau, number three, may show the fairy godmother with her arms filled with finery for Cinderella, while that young lady with her back to the audience, leans toward her godmother. This would typify that young lady No. 3 will have trouble the beginning of ’95, but that love will clear a way before the year is ended.

The curtain rolls back and number four sees herself seated before a mirror giving the last touches to her face with powder puff and rouge pad. There are tiny half-moon patches upon her face, and her hair is piled high, powdered and stuck full of ornaments. She has ear-rings and is laden with jewels. If the mirror faces the audience there will be the very pretty effect of the face reflected in the glass. This tableau is extremely taking and typifies growing vanity.

CUPID’S DREAM.

Cupid’s Dream Is the sentimental title of a Halloween game which is to be produced in a large gathering of young people with tremendous effect. The cupid In a marble figure about two feet in height with an arrow in its hand. The bow is drawn and Cupid shoots his dart apparently straight at the heart of the victim.

If desired a small child could act as Cupid, or a terra cotta figure be substituted for the marble. Or, indeed, any Cupid at all might be used.

The game begins with a dialogue.

“Miss A’s love affair will now be decided. Is Miss A present?”

“I am here,” replies Miss A.

“Are you ready to know your fate in love?”

“I am ready.”

“Cupid, reveal your knowledge!”

Instantly to a musical tinkle of a silver bell, or a chime if it can be arranged, the curtain goes back–and there stands the marble Cupid. Upon him plays a clear blue light, and the audience is hushed with admiration, while all the time the bells tinkle most sweetly.

“Miss A, you will be very fortunate in love, and before the year Is ended you will have become engaged to the man of your choice, who will be a paragon of manly perfections.”

The bells tinkle until the curtain has closed. Then comes the dialogue over again. This time it is addressed to Miss B.

When the curtain goes back it is to the sound of a thin, shrill bell that rings in a monotonous way. There is no music in the light, and Cupid is bathed in a green light. The bell continues until the curtain is drawn over the unhappy sight.

“Miss B., you will love a man who adores you as well, but who is extremely jealous. His jealousy will mar your happiness.”

While Miss B’s friends are advising her what to do with a jealous man, Miss C is called, and Cupid appears again. This time there is a tolling of the bell—a very deep tolling—and poor Cupid is flooded with a deep yellow light.

“Unrequited love!” announces the master of ceremonies.

A lovely white light plays upon Cupid at Miss D’s name. And the interpretation is, “Will remain heart and quite fancy free.”

All the shades of color are shown, according to their meanings, and the delighted audience openly regret when no more Cupid Dreams are to be seen. To arrange the colored lights the room must be darkened. A gas jet back of the audience must be supplied with a pipe with a large gas burner upon it. In front of the burner there are regular calcium light slides of all colors easily taken out and replaced.

All Halloween games must have the element of luck introduced. Nor can they possibly be without love. But by the skilful blending of these two qualities a Halloween entertainment may be interesting to all–even to those with this world’s love affairs already decided. In the affair of this kind surprises are always in order and the more of these the merrier.

A. P.

The Salt Lake [UT] Herald 28 October 1894; p. 13

Mrs Daffodil’s Aide-memoire: It is quite curious how a religious festival celebrating the spirits of the dead returning to roam the earth for a night became so entangled with amorous divination rituals. We have seen this before in the fancies of “Nut Crack Night.”

One wonders if the mistress or master of ceremonies sent out spies beforehand to ascertain romantic entanglements or aversions before so blithely predicting unrequited love for a party guest. It seems as though the result would inevitably be the unhappy young woman rushing from the room in floods of tears and when next heard of, taking solemn vows in some austere convent. Surprises are not always in order….

Mrs Daffodil feels that such artistic tableaux should be on the order of “Twenty Questions,” where the guests have to guess the identity of the gentleman seen leaving the apartments of the young bride recently wed to the aged financier. Alternately, the “game” might expose a well-known gentleman as a card-cheat and a cad, at which he would quietly take his hat, and then flee the country before the ports could be watched. Hours of wholesome amusement and one needn’t enlist a child or a terra cotta cupid.

Mrs Daffodil invites you to join her on the curiously named “Face-book,” where you will find a feast of fashion hints, fads and fancies, and historical anecdote

You may read about a sentimental succubus, a vengeful seamstress’s ghost, Victorian mourning gone horribly wrong, and, of course, Mrs Daffodil’s efficient tidying up after a distasteful decapitation in A Spot of Bother: Four Macabre Tales.

Hallowe’en Supper Frocks: 1894

The Forest at Night, fancy dress http://collections.vam.ac.uk/item/O577334/design-for-a-jules-helleu/

HALLOWEEN COSTUMES

PRETTY FANCIFUL GOWNS SUITABLE FOR THE FESTIVAL

The Picturesque Frocks a Brunette, Chatain and Blonde Will Wear to a Hallowmass Party.

Halloween, perhaps, more than any other fete, supplies possibilities for picturesque and effective gowns, and the end-of-the-century girl is not the one to let them slip by.

A very fashionable wardrobe now owns, along with other dainty evening toilets, a Halloween supper frock, which may be made in any mode, but which, to be just the thing, should suggest, in some way, night itself. Tints vague and intangible, hinting of darkness or the white cool moon, are preferred over glaring dark colors.

As to ornament, there may be some curious jeweled night fly fastened somewhere, perhaps spangled in the hair; and if flowers are used, they too, must propitiate the powers of night in wanes and thick perfume.

The dread witches, who on All Halloween have the threads of fate in their keeping, are said to be difficult ladies to please, but somehow one hopes they will smile on the wearers of the three charming gowns here shown, and provide them suitable husbands. The originals of these dainty costumes, which were suggested by three famous French pictures, were all made by a nimble-fingered New York girl for a Halloween supper. They are to be worn by herself and two sisters, three distinct types; and along with their exceeding effectiveness, they have the merit of having involved comparatively little expense, being all fashioned from materials at hand, some lengths of a marvelous Chinese drapery, a few yards of thick liberty satin bought in better days, and a thin, scant, old tambour muslin slip, relic of a long dead great-mamma and tea cup times.

FOR A BRUNETTE

The first dress shown was for the dark, handsome elder sister of the little Cinderella dressmaker—the type that goes with stiffness and stateliness and rustling textures. It was of the liberty satin in a dim luminous tint, too blue for gray and too gray for blue, and that will show off the wearer’s rich skin to perfection. The girdle drapery of graduating ribbon lengths and bows was of a faint dead sea rose color. This subtle and delightful tint, together with black, repeats itself in the simple but decorative embroidery at the bottom of the wide skirt. The tiny chemise gamp is of white muslin, and the short balloon sleeves are stiffened with tarlatan. To be worn with the dress, as well as the next one, both of which were entirely uncrinolined, were petticoats of hair cloth, with tucks of large round organ pipe plaits, to hold the skirt out in the present approved fashion.

FOR CHATAIN [Brown Hair] COLORING.

The second gown, though perhaps not quite so enchanting as the first, was more suggestive of the witcheries of Halloween. It was of the Chinese silk drapery, in the copper red, and with a fantastic patterning of black bats. The girdle and low neck decoration are of black velvet, and square jet buckles fasten the latter down at intervals.

The very daintiest feature of this paniered gown, however, which in style recalls somewhat little beflowered Dolly Varden, is the undersleeves, made to show off a rounded young arm and drive envy to the soul of womankind. For every woman who is a real woman has a weakness for lace, and these adorable undersleeves were made of the charming old net lace embroidery in back stitch of the long ago.

It came, like the tambour muslin, from grandmamma’s garret, where, when Halloween is over, it is to be hoped, it will be carefully put back.

A GOWN FOR A BLONDE.

The third and last dress, a tiny hint of the Directoire period, is the tambour muslin slip itself, sinfully modernized. Once white, it is now evenly mellowed to a soft caressing yellow, which is further accented by a puffing of pure white chiffon about the neck and skirt bottom. The sleeves are of a rich heavy brocade in black and white, and the belt and crescent ornaments are of silver.

This costume is to be worn to the supper by the little dressmaker herself, and its scant picture lines are sure to become her slim, shortwaisted young figure.

And may the ghost of sweet dead grandmamma not come back to reproach her for desecration.

Nina Fitch.

The Salt Lake [UT] Herald 28 October 1894: p. 13

Mrs Daffodil’s Aide-memoire:  Desecration, indeed….  One frequently sees examples of ancient garments re-made into fancy dress or some “amusing” pastiche; a practice which makes Mrs Daffodil’s blood alternately boil and run cold (something that takes rather a bit of doing, given her line of work.) We can only fervently hope that the antique lace and tambour muslin were, indeed, “put back” or, if not, that Grandmamma haunted the offender mercilessly.

While questioning the appalling statement that only “real women” have a “weakness” for lace, Mrs Daffodil will also adjudge the addition of antique lace to an otherwise standard Bat Queen or Empress of the Night fancy-dress costume to be utterly unnecessary.

“Night” was a popular figure in fancy dress. We see an interpretation of that character at the head of this post. An illustration and description of another version follows. Whimsical though the idea is in principal, in real life, wearing a stuffed owl must be a trifle cumbersome:

By way of preparation for it we present for our readers’ inspection a costume representing Night.

It is satin, in two shades of purple. The lighter used for lower skirt has beaded surface. The plain falls over in a plaited back and draped front; wide panel ornamented with stars, butterflies [moths?] and a very demure owl; smoke-colored vail, dotted with stars, covers the crown of hat, held by a crescent and owl; this draping over the right arm and breast, is thrown over the left shoulder and arm. Willkes-Barre [PA] Evening News 6 January 1886: p. 3

Mrs Daffodil invites you to join her on the curiously named “Face-book,” where you will find a feast of fashion hints, fads and fancies, and historical anecdotes

You may read about a sentimental succubus, a vengeful seamstress’s ghost, Victorian mourning gone horribly wrong, and, of course, Mrs Daffodil’s efficient tidying up after a distasteful decapitation in A Spot of Bother: Four Macabre Tales.

 

With the Devil in the Chair, All Goes Swimmingly: A Hallowe’en Party: 1908

A HALLOWE’EN PARTY.

With the Devil in the Chair, All Goes Swimmingly.

A Halloween celebration, at which the Prince of Darkness personally presides, can be made very effective. According to directions given by a writer in “What to Eat,” the invitations should be written in red on black paper, and the guests should be asked to wear masks.

The hostess should be dressed as a witch in black, with picket hat and broom, and Satan wears red, with a red mask. There are also various subsidiary fiends (small brothers and sisters) dressed in black, with rope tails, painted caps and toasting forks at the ends of sticks.

A room can be arranged as Hades, or the basement can be used for the purpose, in which case the furnace door can be thrown open at intervals with great effect. A throne of boxes draped in black is erected in the centre of Hades, and on it Satan sits, with a book of record in his lap. A dictionary serves the purpose excellently.

At the appointed time the hostess swings open the gates of Hades or conducts the guests by a circuitous route to the basement. Two friends rush forward seize a guest and begin to prod him with their forks. Chains clank, groans are heard and the victim is led to the foot of the throne.

Here is where most of the fun comes in, for Satan knows or has been primed with all the interesting facts in the history of each guest. In a hollow voice he reads long lists of sins from the dictionary, and all the time the fiends are “torturing” the victim. As soon as one is sentenced to tooth-ache, malaria, unrequited love or headache, another victim is brought before the throne until all have been disposed of.

At supper all unmask. Satan sits at one end of the table and the witch at the other, and there is a gypsy’s kettle in the centre, which later emits a ghostly light from burning alcohol sprinkled on salt.

Daily People [New York, NY] 17 October 1908: p. 3

Mrs Daffodil’s Aide-memoire: “Long lists of sins from the dictionary” begs the question: what are they? Atrocious misspellings, perhaps? Iniquitously poor grammar? Hardened and unrepentant use of split infinitives? Unless the Devil-host has a prodigious vocabulary of his own, one feels the scope of judgement is somewhat hampered; old-fashioned lexicons do not have all the up-to-date naughty words nor the modern sins.

What does one serve at such a satanic supper? The viands supplied at the Vampire’s Feast would certainly do. Mrs Daffodil also suggests devilled ham sandwiches, pasta a la fra diavolo, and, of course, devil’s-food cake. Angels on Horseback might bring the party to a premature end.

For another Hallowe’en tradition involving the Devil, see “The Jersey City Devil.”

Mrs Daffodil invites you to join her on the curiously named “Face-book,” where you will find a feast of fashion hints, fads and fancies, and historical anecdotes

You may read about a sentimental succubus, a vengeful seamstress’s ghost, Victorian mourning gone horribly wrong, and, of course, Mrs Daffodil’s efficient tidying up after a distasteful decapitation in A Spot of Bother: Four Macabre Tales.

 

The Moon Party, a Halloween Entertainment: 1914

Selene Victorian fancy dress.

“Moon Party” Makes Novel Halloween Entertainment.

One of the most pleasant social affairs is a moon party. This is the sort of entertainment to give on Halloween (or Thanksgiving) when the harvest moon is in evidence.

Those who are willing to go to some trouble in preparation for the function will find in a moon party something out of the ordinary.

For invitations use colored cards with silver or white moons ferescent or full) on them. Write on the cards the following or some other verse:

Dear friends, this greeting brings to you

An invitation hearty

To join with us on Halloween

A merry moonlight party.

Moons of every description are to be used in decorating—full, crescent, de-crescent, half and gibbous. These may be made of silver or white paper. They may hang from ribbons or cords and may be festooned all about.

The receiving party may be composed of mythological characters associated with the moon.

The first of these may be the “moon maker” (Segende Nah), who cause the moon to issue from a deep well so brilliant that the real moon was concealed by it. His dark blue robe should be covered with bright red moons and he should carry a wand.

Another may represent “Phoebe,” (the moon as the sister of the sun) arrayed in silver and white.

A third may be “Astarte” (the crescent moon), the moon with the crescent horns; and a fourth, “Ashtoreth” (the Phoenician goddess moon), sometimes called the “queen of heaven” (Jeremiah VII: 18).

“Selene” (the moon goddess), may be represented with wings on her shoulders and a scepter in her hands.

“Cynthia” should be included as the moon in the open heaven who “hunts the clouds.”

And from embattled clouds emerging slow

Cynthia came riding on her silver car.

The lighting for the room should simulate moonlight. Vines and branches should be so hung as to throw their shadows on floor and walls.

As the people arrive they are given each a numbered crescent shaped souvenir bearing an appropriate quotation. Those holding the same number are partners in the game of “moon raking.”

“This game it should be explained to those taking part, gets its name from the legend of the farmer who once took a rake to rake the moon from the river under the delusion that it was a cream cheese.

The “moon rakers’ are attached to each other by pairs (by means of a white tape half a yard long. They are instructed to go and rake for the moons (round, white candy tablets), which have been hidden among which is a green cheese (cloth) moon.

The finder is awarded a tiny moonstone.

The fact that the moon rakers are bound together makes it difficult for them to search and adds to the liveliness of the game.

Another interesting game is that of the “man in the moon.” A big, white moon with a man’s face on it is outlined on a dark curtain. Each player essays in turn to pin the eye nearest the place intended for, a small favor being presented to the one who succeeds.

“Jumping over the moon” is another good moon party game. A moon is suspended from a rod held at a certain height and the player who jumps clear over it at the greatest height is the winner.

Cheese sandwiches, crescent in shape are appropriate for refreshments, with moon shaped or star shaped cookies and wafer disks.

J.A. Stewart.

672 S 51^st  st. Philadelphia. Pa.

Plain Dealer [Cleveland, OH] 18 October 1914: p. 11

Mrs Daffodil’s Aide-memoire: We have Cynthia, but where is the goddess Diana, she of the crescent- moon crown?  It is not as if there is not admirable precedent for the goddess’s use as a fancy-dress character by the highest in the land:  the Empress of the French was said (in this caustic article) to be appearing at a fancy-dress ball in the character of the bare-limbed goddess.

EUGENIE ENCIRCLED WITH DIAMONDS

The Empress of the French expected to give a grand fancy ball at her mother’s, the Countess de Montijo’s house, on Friday last, April 27. An exchange brought over by one of the recent steamers, says:

Eugenie, it is announced, will appear as the Goddess of Diana, equipped for the chase, and her dress will be composed of a short skirt of tulle, and of a body of flesh-colored silk, liberally embroidered with diamonds.

A large diamond crescent, and two stars to match, will sparkle on the forehead of the Goddess; the feathers of her arrows will be bedropped with diamonds, as a thread of gossamer with dew, and the pretty little pink boots, that are to give a finish to the costume, will likewise be adorned with precious gems set in anklets of gold. The jewels, some of which, it is said, will be wrenched form the crown, are more important to the costume than at first sight might be imagined. The dress of the Goddess Diana, consisting merely of a short tunic, and what are technically termed “fleshings,” would scarcely be becoming to a lady of high degree, though it might be exceedingly effective on the stage. But add a circle of diamonds to the scanty habiliments, and the standard of propriety is changed at once. Diana’s silver bow may not command much respect; even Diana’s real moon, inasmuch as it costs nothing, may be unheeded; but a Diana, with a crescent of diamonds—diamonds on her boots, diamonds on her arrows—is admissible into the most rigid circles.

Alexandria [VA] Gazette 5 May 1860: p. 2

The Empress Eugenie was widely regarded as a low-ranking and unsuitable match for the Emperor Napoleon III, an amusing attitude, considering the antecedents of that upstart Bonaparte. The Empress did give a series of extravagant fancy-dress balls in 1860 and called upon her favourite couturier, Charles Frederick Worth for imaginative costumes for her and her guests.  Here is a design for “Diana:”

From the Victoria & Albert collections

However, the acerbic tone and the nonsense about wrenching jewels from the Crown make one suspect that this article was a piece of anti-Eugenie propaganda rather than an actual account of a fancy-dress costume.

The “moon-maker” was an 8th-century Arabian magician, also known as Hakim Ben-Hashem. He wore a veil to conceal the brilliance of his eyes, the result of causing a moon to issue from a well and remain visible for a week.

Mrs Daffodil invites you to join her on the curiously named “Face-book,” where you will find a feast of fashion hints, fads and fancies, and historical anecdotes

You may read about a sentimental succubus, a vengeful seamstress’s ghost, Victorian mourning gone horribly wrong, and, of course, Mrs Daffodil’s efficient tidying up after a distasteful decapitation in A Spot of Bother: Four Macabre Tales.