"The Masked Ball", a ghost story, 1885

The Massachusetts Ploughman and New England Journal of Agriculture does not, at first glance, suggest itself as a good source for dance-related material. But apparently even the members of the New England Agricultural Society had a taste for ghost stories, since on August 1, 1885, their journal published "The Masked Ball.  An Ancient Legend of Spanish Toledo", which resembles nothing so much as the scary stories we used to tell around the campfire or at sleepovers when I was a little girl.  A good storyteller could probably do quite well with it.  As a dance source, it's rather thin -- just a reiteration of the difference between a masked ball and a fancy dress ball -- but the story makes a suitable ending for a month of Halloween-themed blogging!

The masked ball was said to have taken place in Toledo "a great many years ago", which from the lack of internal evidence could have been as far back as the eighteenth century.  One must not spoil a ghost story with too much detail.  The newly-ascended Count de Verano, Don Jayme, held a masked ball (said to be new to the people of Toledo) to present his beautiful sixteen-year-old daughter Teresita to society.  Masked balls were considered a bit risque, and Don Jayme wasn't about to let little Teresita be anonymous at her coming-out ball:

It had been arranged between the Count and his daughter that they themselves should not dress in dominoes and masks.  Don Jayme thought Teresita too young for that sort of thing...

But everyone else got into the spirit of the event, so to speak:

...all were dressed in dominoes and masks.  At midnight they were all to unmask.  The guests were more or less startled therefore at meeting, coming down stairs, a man dressed entirely in armor, with vizor down, who wore neither domino nor mask.

I've talked about late-nineteenth century dominos a little bit before in the context of a themed ball.  Regardless of when it was supposedly set, the story was published in 1885, so here's an image of a domino (click to enlarge) from Butterick Publishing's costume book Masquerades, Tableaux and Drills (New York, 1906) and a description from the 1880s to give you an idea of what the late-nineteenth century agriculturalist would have visualized while reading:

Worn at masque balls and sometimes as fancy dress.  It is made in satin, silk, and brocade, or of plain cotton in the Princess shape, having often a Watteau plait with cape and slender-pointed hood and wide sleeves.  It should be large and long enough to slip over the dress easily, and hide it completely.  The black are usually trimmed with a colour, such as a thick ruching down the front and round the bell-shaped sleeve, and are often piped with a colour and lined with the same.  The lighter tones sometimes edged with swansdown. 
        --- Fancy Dresses Described, 5th Edition, by Ardern Holt. (London, 1887)

Nowadays we associate masks and costumes, but historically, there was a difference between a masked ball (just masks, or masks and dominos) and a fancy dress ball (masquerade/Halloween-type costumes).  Perhaps the mysterious knight was confused?

Some suggested there was a story of the house being haunted and perhaps this was the ghost, others that the armor was only put on for the evening and that the knight had made a mistake and thought it was a fancy dress ball instead of a masked one.

This being a ghost story, of course it was the ghost, and he spent the whole ball clanking around and causing chills and generally being creepy. 

At midnight they had the traditional unmasking:

At last, like a transformation scene, every one bloomed out in gay costumes and bright colors, and lent additional brilliance to the already beautiful rooms.

"Costumes" here just means evening clothes, not masquerade/Halloween-type costumes.  The sentence is reminiscent of the unmasking moment as described in a dance manual from the 1880s, which also touched on dominos.  Here's that description, accompanied by another 1906 image of a woman in a domino with her mask visible (click to enlarge) which nicely illustrates the text:

The ladies at a bal masqué wear little black velvet masks on the upper part of their faces, and a domino covers the ball-dress. This domino may be of a plain black silk lined with colour, or may take the form of a very elaborate tea-gown. Both masks and dominoes are usually doffed at the announcement of supper, and the brilliant toilettes and sparkling jewels of the ladies shine out all the brighter for their temporary effacement.
    --- The Ball-Room Guide.  Lucie Armstrong (London and New York, c1880)

 Little masks like that are still called domino masks, though most people nowadays would have no idea what "domino" refers to.

The unmasking was followed by refreshments (wine and cakes, chocolate and ices), but, much to the dismay of the guests, the wine looked like a fine burgundy but tasted like blood!  And -- surprise! -- the mysterious knight did not unmask!  Teresita bravely confronted him about this, but he vanished away, leaving her fainting on the floor.  Once she recovered, there was a bit more dancing, but the guests were understandably spooked and soon left as a group, leaving Teresita alone while the knight clanked about the mansion and her father and an old servant shivered together over the history of the family ghost and the fact that the last time the ghost appeared and disappeared, his grandfather had been killed in battle.  

To cut to the ending: the ghost disappears.  Don Jayme dies.  Teresita's hair turns white, and she becomes a nun.  If you want the full story in all its purple prose, contact me privately or start reading nineteenth century agricultural journals.