May I Introduce You? The Etiquette of Introductions in 1885

Dear Gentle Reader,

What is your position in society? Is it higher or lower than mine? And what of your reputation? This is very important to know because  I might not want to be introduced to you. After all, Lady Constance Howard, author of Etiquette: What To Do, and How To Do It, is emphatic that I, being a female, should be careful with my introductions. She writes, “Those who are talked of in society, who are fast and immoral, should be carefully avoided, not from pride, but from a feeling that a woman’s good name is her greatest treasure, her crown of womanhood, and if she is known to associate with ‘any and all members of her own sex,’ her good name becomes tarnished, her fair fame is called in question, and irreparable mischief ensues.” Therefore, if you feel you are immoral or fast, perhaps we should avoid each other. Should we happen to be introduced by a host “without tact and knowledge of the world” we should follow Lady Constance Howard’s great advice and bow civilly for the sake of the host and then cut each other the very next time we meet.

I know, I know, perhaps you’re not a woman but a privileged nineteenth-century guy. All these rigid, girly rules don’t apply to you. You’re free to introduce yourself to whomever you please. After all, “gentlemen, as a rule, are always ready to make new friends and acquaintances; like butterflies, they like to flit from flower to flower among the pretty faces usually present at all social gatherings…” Well, Lady Constance Howard has some words of wisdom for you: “it is of no consequence to a gentleman in what society he makes his friends and acquaintances, although it is always a mistake for people to go out of their own set, and when gentlemen do, it is a decided mistake, often leading to life-long misery.”

Now that we know the importance of proper introductions, let us take proper heed of Lady Constance Howard’s wise counsel, as well as enjoy the art of Italian Impressionist Giuseppe De Nittis.


Now we will proceed to the correct etiquette for ‘ introductions,’ which word signifies the act of’ presenting’ or ‘introducing’ people to each other, who are previously strangers to one another.

There are all sorts of introductions, premeditated and unpremeditated, ceremonious and informal. On no account should they ever be indiscriminately made; and the amount of tact and knowledge of the world and discretion required, among those who make the introductions, must necessarily be very considerable.

In making introductions, a previous knowledge should be obtained by those making them, as to whether those persons whom they propose to present to each other would be desirous of, or appreciative of, their good offices; or the reverse might be the case if they had expressed no such wish.

It would be a breach of etiquette, and extremely embarrassing, if, without first finding out their mutual wishes on the subject, a lady residing in the country, or in a cathedral town, or watering place, were to present two ladies to each other with whom she was acquainted, residing in the same town, but in different social positions, and consequently moving in opposite circles to each other, unless they had expressed a decided desire for such an introduction.

Without this express wish on the part of the ladies, the result of the presentation would be, a contemptuous disregard on the part of the lady to whom it was most disagreeable, and a prompt decision on her part to discontinue the acquaintance that offended her so much.

Therefore, indiscriminate introductions should never be made.


If there is the smallest doubt as to the desirability of such an introduction, or how it would be received, it should never be indulged in; the awkwardness that must ensue would be indescribably painful to the lady making the introduction, and those introduced.

The correct etiquette is to consult the wishes of both persons before introducing them to each other, whether one person has expressed a wish for an introduction to another person, and has spoken of their desire to a mutual friend, or whether a hostess has an unpremeditated wish that two of her own friends should suddenly become acquainted through her good offices.

This only applies to persons of equal rank; it would be sufficient to ascertain the wishes of the lady of highest rank, where there is an inequality of social position. When their social standing is the same, the person about to make the introduction would ascertain the feeling of the person with whom she was on the most formal terms, for or against the presentation being made. In the same way, if A. expressed a desire to know B., there would only be B.’s pleasure to ascertain on the subject.

The proper form of introduction, according to the degree of intimacy existing between most people in society, would be for the person about to make the introduction, to say pleasantly,—

‘Mrs D., may I introduce Mrs L. to you?’ (being specially careful that Mrs L. did not hear her speech).

An answer having been received, we will say in the affirmative, the introduction would follow, remembering that it is always the lady of lowest rank who is introduced to the lady of highest standing, never is the lady of highest rank introduced to the lady of lowest; this is a very particular point of etiquette, and it must always be very carefully recollected and enforced, as the contrary presentation would be a grave solecism against all the rules of good society, and the remembrance of the strict observances of etiquette which all in a good social position are expected to render each other.

Thus, a hostess would say,—’ Mrs R.—the Duchess of B.,’ thereby speaking the name of the lady first who is lowest in rank, as she is the lady introduced to the lady of superior social position.

This is all that is necessary; it would be in bad taste to repeat the names reversed,—’ The Duchess of B.—Mrs R. Mrs R.—The Duchess of B.”

Once naming the names of those who are to be introduced to each other, is all that etiquette requires; more than this would be a breach of it, and, therefore, not to be indulged in.

Nittis_-_signora_napoletanaWhen the presentation is between two ladies— one married, the other unmarried—the unmarried lady should be introduced to the married lady, except when the married lady was of lower rank than the unmarried one, in which case the contrary would be the correct case.

When the presentation has been made, thus,— ‘Mrs R.—the Duchess of B.,’ the two ladies so introduced bow to each other, and make some little pleasant, civil speech, such as,—’Very happy to make your acquaintance,’ or, ‘I wanted so much to know you, I have heard so much of you,’ etc.

A bow is sufficient in most cases on being introduced to a stranger. Ladies do not generally shake hands at first, although it is quite etiquette for them to do so if either or both are willing.

If the lady of highest rank offers to shake hands with one in not so high a social position, it would show that she wished to be friendly, and would be very complimentary to the other lady. People who are ladies would always do so, particularly if the lady to be introduced to them seemed at all shy, as such a proceeding and mark of pleasure at making her acquaintance, and sign of friendship, would at once set the other lady at her case, and make everything much pleasanter for all concerned.

Any lady or gentleman introducing two strangers to each other, if they were already intimate friends of his or hers, would expect them to shake hands cordially, not give a stiff”, formal bow, and it would be perfectly consistent with etiquette (indeed a clear proof that they knew what society demanded of them) that they should do so.

It is a recognised privilege of ladies to be the first, indeed to take the initiative on being introduced, as far as shaking hands is concerned.

The lady of the house would, as a matter of course, shake hands with everyone introduced to her in her own house, whether the person introduced came with a mutual friend or by invitation, though previously unknown to the hostess, as certain people are always asked everywhere; they are on the list of every lady in society, and for them not to be present at any social gathering, would at once show that the hostess was not in the best society, the highest social position; their absence would be a fact at once known and reflected upon.

In the case where a visit is not made to the lady of the house, but to some friend or guest staying with her, it would not be necessary for her to shake hands with the visitor, unless she wished to do so, or had some special reason for wishing the visit so made to be the beginning of a friendly acquaintance with herself, and consequently the future entree to her house and parties; but in every case where the visit is made to the hostess, she would shake hands with her guest.

Where it is a question of engaged couples, the fact of persons being introduced to each other who are relations or intimate friends of the ‘fiancies’ would warrant their shaking hands on the introduction taking place; again, the relations on either side would shake hands when presented to each other, and the relations of the affianced on being introduced would shake hands with both bride and bridegroom elect.

When it is a question of ‘garden-parties,’ ‘five-o’clock teas,’ small ‘ At Homes, ‘ ‘afternoon concerts,’ etc., gentlemen would be introduced to ladies by the hostess, at least the principal guests would be so introduced, for the purpose of the gentlemen escorting the ladies to tea or supper, in the event of no other gentleman being present at the moment with whom they were already acquainted.

When any friends of their own were present, the ladies would naturally not be dependent upon the kind offices of the hostess in presenting gentlemen to them for the express purpose of showing them this imperative courtesy and mark of civility.

DeNittis16In cases where no gentlemen of their acquaintance are present, the hostess would introduce a gentleman to a lady without previously consulting her, as the fact of none of her friends being present would warrant such an introduction, and the gentleman, knowing why he was presented to any particular lady, would immediately ask the lady’s leave to take her to tea or supper.

A hostess at such assemblages would be entirely guided by her own tact and knowledge of the world in making general introductions, and where she thought an introduction to a gentlemen would be agreeable to any lady, she would proceed forthwith to introduce him to her, without in any way previously consulting her as to her wishes on the point.

The hostess would be specially careful in the matter of such introductions; young unmarried girls she would, if she thought it advisable, introduce to each other; it would only be when an introduction between two married ladies, or a married lady and an unmarried girl, or ladies of high social standing and rank, or great celebrities, that she would give them the option of an introduction, where she desired to make one between any two of her guests or friends.

The same at dinner parties; both ceremonious and informal ones.

General introductions are not necessary at dinner parties, although naturally, if previously unacquainted, a hostess would introduce to a lady the gentleman who was to take her down to dinner.

Such an introduction would be made during the quarter of an hour when guests are assembling before dinner is announced, and it would not be at all necessary for a hostess to ask the lady’s permission for such a presentation, as the fact of the gentleman being her escort to dinner, would be all sufficient to warrant the introduction being made, without any previous knowledge on the lady’s part of her hostess’s intentions with regard to her.

Of course the hostess would be certain beforehand that the gentleman so introduced was not in any way objectionable to the lady, and that, on the gentleman’s side, there was no disinclination to such an introduction to be feared.

Sometimes ladies are introduced to each other by the hostess when they have returned to the drawing-room after dinner, if she wished to do so, or had the chance of making such introductions in the twenty minutes or half-hour which elapses before the gentlemen leave the dining-room ; but nothing of the kind is necessary as far as the gentlemen are concerned, for whether they are previously acquainted or not, they would naturally fraternise after dinner over their wine and mutually interesting subjects of conversation; so that the host would make no introduction between his guests who were strangers to each other, the fact of their being present at his table being sufficient to warrant their addressing some pleasant remarks, and entering into conversation with each other, without committing any breach of etiquette.

When most of the guests at a dinner party are strangers to one another, etiquette permits the host and hostess to introduce the chief guests to each other, should they deem it well to do so; but in London it is seldom necessary to do this. There, most of the guests who meet have, at any rate, some slight acquaintance, which allows of their speaking to each other if they find themselves sitting or standing next to each other at a dinner party, or before dinner is announced ; in the country, such introductions are much more general and necessary, as there in all probability many of the guests have never even heard of each other’s existence, until they meet in the house of some mutual friend.

In ‘large parties,’ whether dinner or evening parties, nothing is so easy as for people who for some reason do not wish to speak to one another, or to be introduced to each other, to avoid such an introduction, or such a meeting. There is no solitude like that of a crowd, no place where it is so easy to have those whose acquaintance is pleasant to you, and to absolutely ignore the very existence of those who offend or are distasteful to you.

People may pass hours in the house of a mutual acquaintance, and never show by word or deed that they are conscious of each other’s presence.

In the case of a host or hostess without tact and knowledge of the world, such avoidance might be difficult ; he or she, all unknowingly, might present the two who wished to be strangers, to each other, in which case, good manners and etiquette would require that the two people so introduced should acknowledge the introduction by a slight bow, and take the earliest opportunity of engaging someone else in conversation, besides telling the host or hostess their reasons for so doing.

The bow thus exchanged would be simply given to avoid putting the host or hostess in a very awkward position, through their ignorance of their guests’ dislike to each other; and this civility to each other on the part of those so introduced, would only be meant as a courtesy to the host or hostess, and a dislike to be rude to them under their own roof on the part of their guests; also the two introduced would be at liberty to cut each other the very next time they met, both understanding perfectly why they had exchanged bows.

One rule is fixed as the law of ‘the Medes and Persians, which altereth not,’ namely, that ‘place aux dames’ is the order of the day with regard to introductions, and that absolutely regardless of the rank of a gentleman or that of a lady; whatever that may be, the gentleman is always introduced to the lady, never the lady to the gentleman.

Thus, ‘Lord A.—Mrs B.,’ not ‘Mrs B — Lord A.’

That would be a breach of etiquette too great for words to express.

Nittis_-_Intorno_al_paralumeWith regard to introducing gentlemen to each other, it is not as a rule necessary to do so. If they wish to make each other’s acquaintance, supposing some very particular reason exists why they should do so, or there is some powerful reason which would commend itself to the person making the presentation, or else to the person whose acquaintance was desired, the gentlemen may ask their host or hostess for such an introduction, without risk of their wish being refused, or their acquaintance declined ; but when no such reason exists, the gentlemen, as a rule, are content to talk to the gentlemen they already know, without seeking to extend the circle of their friends and acquaintances.

This only applies to general society; of course, where it is the question of an introduction to some celebrated man, where it is possible to obtain such an introduction, all gentlemen would naturally seek it, and consider themselves honoured by the introduction.

With regard to their introduction to ladies, gentlemen, as a rule, are always ready to make new friends and acquaintances; like butterflies, they like to flit from flower to flower among the pretty faces usually present at all social gatherings; they seldom if ever avoid, but always seek, the acquaintance of ladies, no matter in what society they may meet them; gentlemen are supposed to be chivalrous and gallant enough, even in the nineteenth century, to still wish for ladies’ society.

Of course a gentleman can be, and ought to be, polite to all his acquaintances in every circle, and if he has tact, he can be civil and courteous to all ladies, without offending the prejudices of those in a higher or lower social position ; it is of no consequence to a gentleman in what society he makes his friends and acquaintances, although it is always a mistake for people to go out of their own set, and when gentlemen do, it is a decided mistake, often leading to life-long misery.

When it is a question of one of his own sex, a gentleman is usually just as exclusive in the matter of whom he does or does not know, as a lady would be in choosing her friends, and in the matter of allowing strangers to be presented to her.

Mutual tastes, mutual sympathy, mutual friends form, as a rule, the groundwork of friendship and acquaintances between gentlemen ; of course there are exceptions to this, as to all other rules, no hard and fast line can be set down,’circumstances alter cases.’

When a gentleman is spoken of as ‘ Do you know M.? he is such a good fellow, one of the most charming men I know,’ and when all concur in a unanimous verdict as to his popularity, then you may be sure that all men will wish to make his acquaintance, likewise all the ladies; and when the fiat as to his excellence is pronounced by gentlemen, then people may be quite safe, as a man well spoken of by his fellow-men, is always one whose friendship and acquaintance is an honour and a pleasure; men have innumerable chances of judging other men’s characters, which ladies cannot possibly have, therefore a man’s opinion is the one to be guided by always.

A mutual acquaintance or friend may be asked by a gentleman for an introduction to a lady; it is quite in accordance with etiquette that he should do so; and when a gentleman wishes to make the acquaintance of any particular lady, it is the accepted rule that he should do so always.

As far as ball-room introductions are concerned, it is decidedly best to consult a gentleman, previously to introducing him to any lady, as to whether he wishes to be introduced to a lady or not. The hostess would say, ‘Would you like to be introduced to Miss C.?’ or some other civil speech which would have the effect of ascertaining the gentleman’s wishes on that point.

The reason for this is obvious, namely, at a ball a gentleman is usually introduced to a lady for the express purpose of requesting her to give him the pleasure of a dance, or take her to supper: a ball-room introduction means this.

Supposing the gentleman so introduced did not know how to dance, or did not wish to dance, if his wishes were not known to his hostess beforehand, the lady to whom he was introduced would feel extremely mortified at his apparent neglect of the express purpose for which he was presented to her, and the introduction, so far from availing anything in bringing about an agreeable friendship or acquaintanceship between the two thus introduced, would only prove a source of annoyance and awkwardness to both, which might easily have been avoided.


When a lady does not wish to dance, it is not necessary to ask her if an introduction to any gentleman will be agreeable to her, the introduction would be undertaken as a matter of course, and as a looked-for and expected civility.

Ladies cannot be too particular as to the acquaintances they make, especially where members of their own sex are concerned. A lady should have too much consideration for her own character and good name, her social position, and her duty to society, to be seen with doubtful friends and acquaintances. Those who are talked of in society, who are fast and immoral, should be carefully avoided, not from pride, but from a feeling that a woman’s good name is her greatest treasure, her crown of womanhood, and if she is known to associate with ‘any and all members of her own sex,’ her good name becomes tarnished, her fair fame is called in question, and irreparable mischief ensues.

In ‘country houses,’ the principal guests, if previously unacquainted, would be introduced to each other by the hostess or host on the afternoon of their arrival, especially in the case of the ladies of highest rank. Such introductions would be made as the hostess deemed expedient; and where very large numbers of people were congregated, general introductions would be very fatiguing, quite unnecessary, and not required by strict etiquette.

Being under the same roof in a country house, except in the cases before named, is introduction enough; the fact of ladies and gentlemen so finding themselves, is really an act of presentation, although this fact does not oblige the guests to become great friends or acquaintances, it remains with the people so introduced to be friends or not in the future, though many intimate friendships are the result of meetings in country houses.

The same at ‘Afternoon Teas ‘ and ‘At Homes.’

People would converse generally, if they liked, and it would be no breach of etiquette on their part that they should do so.

Although ladies might converse with other ladies, gentlemen with gentlemen, and ladies with gentlemen, this civility would not constitute an acquaintanceship afterwards, beyond the act of a bow when they meet again, if they desired it; not that, if it were unpleasant to either or both of them.

If they so wished it, any gentleman and lady conversing under these circumstances, might bow when they next met, or two gentlemen might so form an acquaintance.

On leaving, if a lady and gentleman had been holding a long conversation in the house of a mutual friend or acquaintance, or he had shewn her any very marked civility, he would bow to her. In the case of two ladies who had been exchanging polite remarks at a ‘tea,’ it is optional whether they bow or not, but good manners should prompt them to do so. Should they be of different social positions, the lady of highest rank would, of course, take the initiative, and bow to the other lady when their conversation ended or she left the room.

If several people make a morning call at the same time, the hostess would be civil to each in turn, making some pleasant remark. She would not allow the conversation to become too general, except when all the guests were acquainted with each other.

No introduction should be made by a hostess unless she was quite sure that such an introduction would be agreeable to both, and in every way one to be desired. If a hostess knew that two people did not wish to make each other’s acquaintance, she would most carefully avoid such an introduction, even in the case when one lady only was averse to its being made.

When no such dislike exists, and their social positions warrant it, a hostess would at once introduce the guests to each other.

If a lady and gentleman who were strangers to each other met on the landing outside a drawing-room door, he would make her a bow, which courtesy she would acknowledge by one also; and he would step aside, so as to allow her to enter the room first.


Having a Tea in 1885

I’ve been reading Mrs. Dalloway at the rate of about fifteen pages a day. It’s all I can manage. The book reads like wonderful dark chocolate. It cannot be eaten quickly, but savored, and just a small bit satisfies. Two nights ago I finally reached the chapters of Mrs. Dalloway’s party.  I love how Virginia Woolf used her words and sentence structures to convey the motion and energy of the party. As the reader, you feel that you are in the middle of its whirl. Most of the characters, whom you have come to intimately know, are present. And you are a guest there like the others.

Yesterday afternoon as I was cleaning my desk, I came across some pages I had printed from Etiquette: What To Do, and How To Do It, by Lady Constance Eleanora C. Howard, and published in 1885.  I smiled as I read the pages, thinking of Mrs. Dalloway’s party. Although Lady Constance Howard goes into depth about the etiquette at balls, dinners, luncheons, etc., I opted to excerpt the pages on giving teas because I haven’t posted anything about teas before. I must admit, reading this description was rather stressful. I could never give an “At Home” for I would inadvertently insult all my acquaintances. Good heavens, I might use the wrong invitation format or introduce the wrong people or have my imaginary servants stationed in the wrong rooms. Teas are an etiquette minefield and not for the faint-hearted, casual hostess.

The images are taken from The London and Paris Ladies’ Magazine of Fashion, from 1881


‘Five-o’clock Tea’ makes an agreeable break between luncheon and dinner, and is welcomed by all, whether ladies who have been riding or walking, or just arrived from a journey, or by keen sportsmen after a day’s
shooting or hunting.

In many country houses it is the custom to have ‘School-room Tea,’ to which all the guests are bidden ; they come, or not, as it pleases them. In some houses, the hostess only receives a few intimate friends in her boudoir, but most generally tea is served in the drawing-room, or library, or hall, when the latter is arranged as a sitting-room—often the case both in London and the country.


The usual way is to have a low table covered with a pretty cloth embroidered with, say ‘poppies, wheat and cornflowers.’

On this should be placed the teapot, cream, and milk jugs, sugar and slop basins, cups and saucers, each having a teaspoon, and plates.

Another table has plates of brown and white bread, little cakes, scones or muffins, in the winter, and jam, honey or marmalade.

When guests are expected from a journey it is usual to add sandwiches of game or potted meat, and to have a tray with sherry, brandy, and seltzer on another table for those who prefer it to tea.

The hostess would pour out the tea, saying to each guest,—’ Do you take sugar?’ and ‘ Will you take cream or only milk?’

Then she hands the cups to the gentlemen, who, in their turn, hand them to the ladies who are sitting about the room in groups.

Conversation would be general at ‘ five-o’clock teas,’ as the number of guests does not generally admit of ‘tête-à-têtes.’

The gentlemen would hand the cakes, etc., to the ladies in the same way as the tea, saying,— ‘May I give you some cake or muffin?’ at the same time seeing that each lady had a plate. Plates should always be used at five-o’clock tea, just as much as they are at any other meal. There can be no possible reason why they should not be—people cannot put their cake or scone in their saucers, nor on the table, as that would be very vulgar—therefore plates are an imperative necessity; also slop basins, as no one likes the dregs of a previous cup of tea left in their cup if they wish to take a second.

Knives are only used for cutting a cake, not by each person, unless toast is provided, with butter, jam, honey, or marmalade, when they are necessary to spread these condiments.

Serviettes are never used at five-o’clock tea. Hot water to replenish the teapot should be sent up in an urn, a silver or china kettle, or a jug with a silver or plated top; it is sometimes put in a silver jug, but it is not a good plan as the water so soon gets cold in them. The teaspoons should if possible be silver, and sometimes teapot, sugar-basin, cream and milk jug, are in silver, as also the sugar-tongs; where this is too expensive, all china takes its place, in which the service is either all one pattern or else ‘harlequin.’

Scones, muffins, buttered toast should be served in dishes with covers to keep them hot.

Salt should always be sent up, as many people eat it with bread and butter, etc.—a small silver muffineer is best for it.

China or coloured Venetian glass dishes are best for butter, jam, etc.

Some people add mustard, cress and radishes, but this is not generally done.


The footman would place the tables in their proper places, cover them with the tea-cloths, and then carry in a tray with the various things needful.

The butler would place them on the tables, and then they would both leave the room, as it is not usual for servants to wait upon the guests at these meals; they wait upon each other, which is far less formal and much more agreeable.

Where no men-servants are kept, the parlour-maid would do exactly the same.

‘Five-o’clock tea’ in London is a very different thing. Ladies like it extremely; gentlemen, as a rule, detest it most cordially.

Generally say fifty ladies and five gentlemen is about the average at these assemblages, so that the ladies are all powerful, being in such an overwhelming majority.

The reason is this, ladies like them because at ‘five-o’clock teas ‘ they form new acquaintances, meet their favourite friends, make numerous plans for further meetings, and future interchange of civilities and entertainments; and, although as a rule few gentlemen put in an appearance at ‘five o’clock tea’ in London, considering this form of gathering too insipid; if they do honour it by their presence at rare intervals it is either because they want to meet a particular lady, or as a compliment to a popular hostess, one at whose house it is the correct thing to be seen, and where absence would proclaim that they were not on her list of friends and acquaintances. Yet, ladies are always ready, even in the middle of the rush of the London season, to look in at ‘five o’clock tea’ for twenty minutes or half-an-hour, if they cannot remain longer, in the course of their afternoon drive.

The refreshment of a cup of tea, whether in summer or winter, is at all times an agreeable and welcome one.

Invitations to ‘five-o’clock teas’ are either given verbally, by the intending hostess saying to any friend or acquaintance, lady or gentleman, whom she meets and wishes to invite,—

‘Will you come to me to-morrow, Mrs Green, at five o’clock, and have a cup of tea? You will find a few mutual friends.’

Or else invitations are issued on an ordinary visiting card, not on the cards used for ‘at homes’ or ‘ balls.’ The following is the correct form to use:—



the word ‘ music’ would be added if any, whether amateur or professional were to be provided, and the letters,’ R. S. V. P.,’ signifying ‘ Reponse s’il vous plait,’ or ‘an answer is requested,’ where one is wished for.

R. S. V. P.’ would be written on the right-hand corner of the invitation card, when such is the case, and where these letters are put, an immediate answer should be forwarded; at the same time it is unusual to require an answer, as it is generally of no consequence how many people avail themselves of such an invitation, or what numbers are conspicuous by their absence.

If, however, any of those invited are aware, when they receive the card, that it is quite certain they cannot accept the invitation, it would only be a mark of courtesy to send excuses at once.

Strict etiquette does not require this civility, but good-breeding and politeness, such as those ought to possess who go into society, would make it a matter of course.

‘Five-o’clock teas  may be classed under three distinct heads, as they are varied in the number of guests invited to them.

Both invitations and replies can be sent by post, or if a lady is out driving it is customary that if she needs an object for her afternoon drive, she should make a list of her proposed guests, and leave at any rate some of the cards herself.

Cards should be left by those who have been present within a week of the tea.

At ceremonious teas, it is usual to give a fortnight’s notice; for smaller ones the invitation should be sent out about a week before; for very small teas, a couple of days’ notice is sufficient.


Some ladies, for small teas, are at home a given day each week; for instance, all the Tuesdays in May, or all the Fridays in July.

This is a very good plan, as it admits of people choosing the week most convenient to them, so that if one Tuesday does not suit, the next or the one following may do so.

A ceremonious tea consists of from fifty to a hundred and fifty or two hundred guests; when this number have been invited, it is customary to provide some amusement for them, such as vocal or instrumental music, with amateur and professional performers; the music should be as good as possible, though not important enough to be actually a ‘ concert.’

The semi-ceremonious tea numbers forty to a hundred people, then recitations, good amateur talent, vocal or instrumental, is enough to amuse people and take off any formality and shyness. I think the most agreeable teas consist of ten to twenty-five people, who all are more or less acquainted, then general conversation or tête-à-tête chats take the place of music, or any other form of instructing and amusing people, intimate friends, not merely acquaintances, and comparative strangers, forming the majority of these ‘sans gêne’ gatherings.

It would not be etiquette to put ‘ five-o’clock tea’ on the card of invitation; if the hostess invited a guest personally, she would use the words ‘afternoon tea ;’ she would not say,’ Will you come to a kettledrum?’ that expression is obsolete; the correct term for ‘five-o’clock tea’ is ‘At Home,’ except when spoken of in conversation or verbally, then they would be mentioned, and allusion made to them as ‘five o’clock tea,’ just as a reception of a few friends after dinner is always called an ‘At Home’; never should ‘evening party’ be printed or written on the card of invitation; society recognises no such sentence with regard to the invitation to such an entertainment, although in talking to a friend it would be correct to say,—’ I am going to a party at the Duke of B.’s to-night,’ never, ‘I am going to an At Home at H— House.’

Terms correct in conversation would be incorrect, pedantic, and show ignorance in the matter of a written or printed invitation.

The name of the host does not appear on the invitations to ‘At Homes’ or ‘ five-o’clock teas.’ The name of the hostess only, not the united names of the host and hostess, appears upon the cards.

In sending an invitation, the hostess would include the husband of her guest in the invitation as follows :—’ Mr and Mrs de L’Isle ‘ would be written at the right-hand corner of the visitingcard; where it is a father and daughter,—’ Colonel and Miss or the Misses F.’

The sons in a family would receive separate cards of invitation; thus, ‘Lord G.,’ or ‘The Hon. B. Turner;’ and where there is a whole family to be invited, it would be ‘The Duke and Duchess of C, and Lady D. M.,’ or the ‘Ladies M.’

If only a mother and daughter, or daughters, ‘Lady C. and Miss C.,’ or the ‘ Misses C.,’ if the wife of a baronet or knight; if a Marchioness, it would be ‘The Marchioness of W. and Lady C. H.,’ or the ‘Ladies H.;’ a Countess, the correct term is, ‘The Countess of G. and Lady H. R.,’ or ‘Ladies R. ;’ a Viscountess, ‘The Viscountess L. and Honourable Mary B.,’ or ‘Honourable Misses B.;’ the same for a Baroness when she is a Peeress in her own right, such as Baroness Burdett Coutts, Baroness Berners, Baroness Bolsover, etc. ; when such is not the case, it would be ‘Lady F. and Honourable E. V.,’ or ‘Honourable Misses D.,’ unless there were only one daughter, when it would be ‘Honourable Miss D.’

Titles are recognised on invitation cards, but complimentary denominations, such as K.C.B., K.T., etc., are only written on the envelopes in which the cards are sent, not on the cards themselves.


Cloak-rooms are only necessary at very large formal teas, when the dress of the ladies is more magnificent, and probably a long velvet coat in winter, or a light dolman in summer, is thrown over the wearer’s dress in the carriage, which she is glad to lay aside while having her tea. At small teas it is not necessary, as rooms are less hot and more empty, and the dresses of a more simple description.

The hats, sticks or umbrellas, and overcoats of the gentlemen, at small or large teas, are always left in the hall, when a servant takes charge of them until they leave.

When those who have been invited arrive, they walk straight into the house, without asking is ‘Lady B. at home?’ as they know that such is the case.

Except at large teas, when the names of those present appear in the Morning Post next day, it is not correct for a lady’s servant to give her name to the servant who answers the door, and the house door should be left open until all the guests have arrived, or each person would have to ring the bell. The only time when it is allowable to station a servant on the steps, who rings as each guest arrives, and says, ‘Coming in,’ is in winter, when an open door for so long a time would make the house cold, and be disagreeable to those already assembled.

Red cloth is never put down at any party, whether ball, concert, theatricals, at home, five-o’clock tea, except when Royalty is present.

An awning should always be provided, whether it is an afternoon gathering or an evening party, as a protection against bad weather.

When visitors are ready to leave, they give their names to the servant, who stands by the door in readiness, he passes it to the lady’s footman (if she has one), who departs in search of her carriage, and announces it when it comes up; or when there is no footman, the linkman shouts out the name, and calls it out on the arrival of the carriage.

At ‘teas’ and ‘at homes’ the hostess does not ring for the door to be opened for the guest who is leaving, or for the carriage to be called, but the guests descend into the hall, where the servants of the house call the carriages as they are requested to do so by those present.

Owing to the short time that ladies, as a rule, remain at ‘five-o’clock teas,’ carriages should always be kept ‘waiting ;’ and those invited to the tea remain in the dining-room, taking refreshment, or stand in the hall alone, or chatting to their friends and acquaintances until they hear their carriage announced.


If a gentleman were present when a lady was waiting for her carriage with whom she was acquainted, he would politely offer her his arm and conduct her down the steps to her carriage; he would assist her to get in, and if he knew her well he would shake hands with her; if he was merely an acquaintance of recent date, he would make her a low bow only, as the carriage drives off, not offering to shake hands unless the lady showed a wish to do so.

Refreshments at ceremonious teas are always served in the dining-room, and a long buffet is placed at one end of the room, behind which stands the lady’s maid, etc., who pour out the cups of tea and coffee, and hand them across the table to those who ask for them, replenishing the cups when necessary.

The lady’s maid is always present on these occasions, as well as the Butler and footman; the Butler sees that the gentlemen have claret cup, wine, etc

The tea and coffee should be in silver urns, and the buffet prettily decorated with the flowers that are in season, fancy biscuits, brown and white bread and butter cut very thin, plum, seed and pound cakes, and macaroons and sponge cakes are placed upon the buffet, while sherry, champagne, and claret cup, lemonade, ices, fruit, potted game, sandwiches, and in the summer, china bowls heaped with strawberries, and dishes of whipt cream, and in the winter ‘maroons glacés’ are all placed upon the centre table.

Plates are always provided—ice plates for the ices, ‘which should be both cream and water with waifers,’ and small plates for fruit, with a place for the pounded sugar.

Tea in the dining-room, whether the party is large or small, is the most convenient; it saves carrying all the necessary paraphernalia upstairs. If the number of guests is very small, it might look unsociable to assemble in the dining-room, as it would leave the hostess alone, she not being able to quit her post until the majority of the guests had arrived.

Therefore, at very small and intimate teas, the refreshments are served in a small boudoir, or ante-room, or where there are two drawing-rooms in the inner one of the two.


The refreshments are of the same character as at the ceremonious parties, but on a much more pretentious scale; teapots are used instead of urns; fruit and ices are not provided. The hostess pours out the tea and coffee, assisted by her daughter or daughters if she has any, and the gentlemen present hand the cups and the cakes, etc., to the rest of the ladies, and then help themselves to wine, or cup, as they may wish. At teas served in the drawing-room, the lady’s maid and butler are not present. At formal teas, the servants or the maid on the arrival of each guest would inquire if they would take tea or coffee, and if they wish for either, would show them into the dining-room, where the guests would partake of refreshments, and then the servants would usher them into the drawing-room.

It is more courteous to proceed upstairs immediately on arrival, and to take tea or coffee after you have made your bow to your hostess.

The servant precedes the guests up the stairs.

At large teas, the hostess receives her friends at the drawing-room door, or on the landing; she shakes hands with each guest on arrival, whether she is previously acquainted with them or not, or in the case where a friend has asked her for an invitation for some lady or gentleman who is anxious to be present at her party.

She stands just in the doorway, the door remaining open all the time, the contrary being the case at small teas, when the hostess receives her friends within the room, advancing a few steps to meet each new arrival.

Unless a hostess is lame or very old, etiquette requires that she should move about the room among her guests, and see that they have someone to talk to, that they have tea, etc., talking with each person for a few minutes.

Her daughter or daughters would help her in like manner; no hostess would remain seated in one particular seat all the time, unless she was too lame or infirm to move about.

It is etiquette for ladies to move about the rooms at afternoon teas, and speak to their particular friends and acquaintances; there is no necessity for them to remain transfixed to one spot, unless they wish to do so, or the conversation they are engaged in is very absorbing.

Those ladies who are already acquainted would take this opportunity of speaking and making some polite or necessary remarks, but general introductions at ‘five-o’clock teas ‘ are not usual, only occasional ones, where the hostess thinks that two people would value such an introduction when they are likely to appreciate such an acquaintance, where the acquaintance has been desired by the lady, or by both, or some reason of similar importance.

In a formal, or semi-formal manner, the hostess, if she judged it wise to do so, would introduce some of the ladies present to each other, but she would never do so unless she was quite certain beforehand that they would have no objection to the introduction.

Then she would say, with a view to drawing the ladies into conversation, ‘Lady Z., I don’t think you know Lady L.,’ when the ladies would acknowledge the introduction by a bow; or,’ Mrs V. and I were talking about the first night of Romeo and Juliet, are you going to it, Mrs D.?’ In the same way, the hostess, if she saw Mrs D. knew no one of the gentlemen present, she would say, ‘May I introduce Lord N. to you, Mrs D. ?’ at the same moment bringing him with her to the lady she addressed, who would smile and bow. Lord N. would then say, ‘Will you let me get you some tea?’ he would not say ‘May I get you some refreshments?’ that would be very vulgar indeed, and if Mrs D. consented, Lord N. would offer her his right arm, and would conduct her to where the tea was served.


The hostess would be very particular that the ladies of highest position present were escorted to tea in the intervals between music, singing, conjuring, recitations, or whatever amusements she had provided for their benefit and amusement, and would introduce gentlemen to them, if there was no one by at the moment that they were acquainted with, that they might then show them this politeness of society.

The host, if there is one, would take the ladies of highest rank to tea.

All the gentlemen are expected to be constantly escorting ladies to tea, so they do not remain in the dining-room many minutes, therefore seats as a rule are not provided, as they remain there so very short a time; gentlemen conduct the ladies back to the drawing-room when they have finished their tea, as it would be a great incivility on the part of a gentleman were he to leave the lady alone in the dining-room, or let her find her way upstairs without his escort.

Having found her a seat, he would make her a polite bow, and proceed to escort someone else to tea. Should, however, the lady not wish to return to the drawing-room, the gentleman would remain talking to her until her carriage was announced, when he would escort her to it.

Several ladies would, at the suggestion of the hostess, go to tea together, when the gentlemen were in the minority; their hostess would say a few words of civil excuse for their absence.

Punctuality is not necessary at ‘five-o’clock teas,’ the hour named allowing the guests to come when they like, and leave when it pleases them—some stay a long time, others only a few moments; it entirely depends upon their inclinations and motives for being there. Few, if any, remain the whole three or three hours and a-half specified on the invitation card. Sometimes the latest arrival stay the shortest time; at others, the earliest leave after a few minutes, from five to six being the most popular hours for arriving. People going on to other ‘teas’ in the same afternoon, as often happens, would either come earlier or later than these hours to allow of fulfilling both engagements.

Gentlemen generally stand about the room talking to the ladies at these parties when taking tea or wine, etc.

If a gentleman saw a lady with an empty cup in her hand, he would politely put it down for her, otherwise the lady would place it on any table near to her.

Cream and sugar are handed to each guest by the gentlemen, as a matter of course. It would not be etiquette for the hostess to inquire if her guests take them; ladies would ask for a second cup of tea if they were thirsty, but it would be against etiquette, and look peculiar, if they did not take tea or coffee, and asked for chocolate, milk and soda, cocoa, hot milk, cider, or some beverage not usually served at tea.

If they did not like the refreshment provided, without entering into any explanations they would simply say, ‘No tea ; thank you very much.’

A lady intending to eat ices, cake, bread and butter, fruit or sandwiches, would take off her gloves, but not if she simply had tea or coffee without eating anything.

Etiquette does not make it imperative that guests should take leave of their host and hostess at ‘five-o’clock teas,’ unless it were late, and few people were left, in which case these guests would, as politeness required, make their adieus to their hostess, and if it were their first visit to the house, or the hostess were a recent acquaintance, or happened to be talking to a guest on the landing, standing in the doorway, or coming back to the drawing-room from tea, then etiquette requires that the guest who was leaving should take his leave of her, with a few civil words of thanks.

Except on these occasions it is not usual to do so.

Conversation, when there is ‘music or singing’ at afternoon teas, should be indulged in in a low tone, so as not to disturb or annoy those who are doing their best to amuse the guests, at least guests should try and look as if they were listening to the performance, even if they are not ardent votaries of music.

No gratuities at this or any other entertainment to be given to the servants.


A Polite Lady in 1798

My Dearest Daughter Sophia,

Please attend to my little lesson in snobbery. I assure you that my motivations come from no improper pride on my part. And dearest, you know how much I love commas. I couldn’t help but sprinkle my letter with hundreds of the darling things.

I hope you are enjoying the boarding school that I tucked you away in. Don’t forget to disdain your classmates of lower rank.

All the best,
Your bitchy mother.

P.S. I have compiled all our letters into this volume The Polite Lady; or, A course of Female Education: In A  Series Of Letters, From A Mother To Her Daughter, 

P.P.S.  I’ve included fashions from La Belle Assemblee in 1811 because I was too lazy to search for fashions from 1798, and I had put off exercising for too long. Also, my dearest Sophia, please don’t make it known that I am your mother if you choose to wear that dreadful outfit with the green ribbon coiled about it.

But, my dear, where it possible for you to contract a friendship with persons of too high or low station, yet it is a thing which you ought to carefully to avoid; as it might, and very probably would, be attended with bad consequences. In the one case, you would be in danger of having your head filled with a thousand notions, which how proper soever they may be for a lady of the first quality, or altogether inconsistent with your rank. What in her would be deemed excusable, decent, or even praiseworthy, in  you would be condemned as ridiculous, foolish, or, perhaps, criminal. When she goes to walk or visit she may have a couple of footmen to attend to her. She may go to the play, or any other public entertainment, every evening if she pleases, or at least as often as she thinks proper. She may throw away eight or ten guineas upon a headdress that happens to hit her fancy. She may subscribe an annual sum to any charitable institution. For the last action all the world would place her, and for the former ones no sensible person could blame her, as she acts in character and has a fortune equal to her expenses.


But, my dear, were you to behave in this manner, what a different opinion, do you imagine, would people in entertain of you? Why, some would suspect you were abandoned; others would think you were mad; and all would agree you were foolish. Your friends would be sorry; your enemies rejoice; and the rest of the world would be an object of ridicule and derision. Besides, to cultivate a friendship with such as are raised above us in rank of fortune, has a natural tendency to inspire us at once with pride and meanness of spirit; two voices of widely different, that they could hardly be supposed to reside in the same person. Of those who keep company with none but their bettors, it is generally, and, I believe, justly observed that they treat their superiors with servility and flattery, their equals with indifference, their inferiors with contempt and disdain. But they are commonly repaid in their own coin: for the consequence of this behavior is, that their inferiors hate them, equals despise them, their superiors laugh at them, when their backs are turned. In a word, you may, if you will, be the humble creature, the mean dependent; you can never be the true, the bosom-friend of a lady of the first quality.

LBA1811-1Nor would there be less danger, my dear, in the other case; I mean, in contracting a friendship with the person greatly beneath you and family and fortune. Your mind would be debased by her low conversation; your pride would be inflamed by her servile and cringing behavior: for such only could you expect from her. As she courts you, not for your personal merit, but for your rank, your wealth and interest, she would take care never to forfeit your good graces by  doing any disagreeable action, or telling any unpleasing truth, how much sorever the doing the one, or telling the other, might be your real interest and advantage. Your fault she would either conceal or extenuate; your virtues she would magnify and exaggerate; nay, perhaps praise you for virtues you’ve never possessed. She might, indeed, be your flattering sycophant , but she would not possibly be your faithful friend, one of whole principal duties is it is to inform you of your faults, and to assist you in correcting them. But my dear, not only is our pride increased by cultivating a friendship with persons of low life; what is more, the very odd for me such a friendship is a certain proof of our original pride and vanity: for if we had not naturally proud, we would never

This is the dress I’m talking about, Sophia.

But my dear, not only is our pride increased by cultivating a friendship with persons of low life; what is more, the very act of forming such a friendship is a certain proof of our original pride and vanity: for if we had not been naturally proud, we  never would have formed it. This, you will imagine, is a very strange way of thinking. What! Can it ever be a sign of pride and vanity to cultivate a friendship with our inferiors? Is it not rather a mark of humility and condescention? Such, my dear, will be your opinion; and such, I believe, is the opinion of half the world: but either they or  I must be mistaken, or it is a very false opinion. For where is the humility in keeping company with those who are perpetually flattering us; who, we are sure, will never venture to contradict us, but will command and applaud everything we say or do, however foolish or ridiculous? Is this be humility, ’tis a very strange kind of it, and quite above my comprehension. The truth is, persons of this character are, of all others, the most proud, vain, and conceited. They don’t like the company of their superiors because they scorn to fawn or flatter; they don’t like the company of their equals because they cannot bear the contradiction: and, therefore, they fly to the company of their inferiors, with they are free from contradiction; and, instead of offering, are sure of receiving the  incense of flattery and adulation.

LBA1811-3Of this kind of pride (for,  it must be confess, it has something very particular about it ) Lady Lembton is a very remarkable instance. I went to visit her at few days ago, and found her surrounded with a large company of ladies who, in every thing but sense, were certainly her inferiors. What the subject of conversation was before I entered, I know not; but the usual compliments were hardly over, when she took occasion to commend her daughter, who is settled at a country boarding school, for her great improvement in writing; and, as a specimen of her abilities, produced a letter she had lately received from her. All the rest of the company agreed in praising it, though one half of them had not so much as seen it: –there was flattery for you with a witness. ButI, who scorn to flatter any one, took the freedom to observe, thatI thought it was a very indifferent, and that my Sophy, though younger, could write much better; and is a proof, shewed them a letter of yours, which I happened to have in my pocket. Upon a comparison they could not refuse giving the preference to you, though with the apparent reluctance. After this, Lady Lambton was extremely grave and demure, and this rest looked very silly and foolish. In any other company I would have not have behaved in this manner; it would have been ill manners; but for such a conceited fool, and a parcel of such servile flatterers, deserved no better treatment. Her vanity and their meanness of spirit were equally the object of contempt and disdain.





Tales of Feminine Travelers from 1906


Summer vacation is coming, ladies! Have you wired ahead to the hotels where you’ll be staying?  Do you know how to pack your hats properly?  What are you going to wear in the sleeper car?  How will you handle unwanted male attention on a train?

Are you as clueless on these matters as I am?

Thank goodness for the exceedingly well-mannered and somewhat snobbish Isabel Curtis. She has all the answers in her article “Tales of Feminine Travelers Who Have Learned to Journey Safely and Happily Without Male Escort”, published in the June 1906 volume of Good Housekeeping.  I’ve excerpt the most relevant passages below.


For two hours, one night. I listened while the Travelers talked. The Travelers were a group of ladies’ maids: intelligent, well-bred, young women gathered together in Miranda’s pleasant room, at a big hotel in New York. A lady’s maid is of the class one meets so seldom—except in a novel or the stage—that I was glad to know them in real life. Miranda was responsible, I suppose, for an all-evening theme by telling what a queer reception Lady Chesterton had in New York.

“My lady.” said Miranda, “came across on a line which lands in Boston. Her luggage was labeled ‘Miss Chesterton‘. She hates the fuss that is made over anybody who brings a title to America. Before going to visit some old friends she wanted to rest, so after a few hours in Boston we took the train for New York. We arrived here late at night and drove to a hotel, which some English friends had recommended to my lady. The clerk said there was not an empty room. We got the same answer at the next hotel. It was nearly midnight when we made our third stop, here. Again there was no room. While we stood by the desk in perplexity, a lady and gentleman passed us, called for a room and got one. My lady turned back for a talk with the clerk who became perfectly honest with her. He told her there were rooms enough, but women arriving in the evening without an escort could not be given accommodations. The same rule exists, so he told us, in every reputable hotel.”


“Lady Chesterton did not feel that way about it.” continued Miranda. “She approved of the idea, but it was midnight and where were we to go? She told the clerk of her quandary and gave her name, though she did not wish to register under it. After a brief glance at my lady’s letters to her banker we were accommodated and provided with every comfort. One thing the clerk told us about traveling in America my lady will put into practice before our journey to San Francisco; she will write ahead and secure rooms at hotels wherever we are to stop.”

“Talk of traveling with no man along.” sighed Felice, a chatty French maid. “That an episode my lady and I had last night! 1 went with her to the theater—ah, what a stupid play!” The girl threw out her hands tragically. “‘Felice.’ said my lady, ‘let us have something to eat and forget it. There is the rathskeller where my husband and I go after the play. Such good things to eat and such music! It was a heavenly place, but what a crowd! We walked to the end of the room before we found a table. ‘We will have lobster a la Newberg began my lady, ‘with some little—‘ ‘Pardon, madame,’ I interrupted, ‘but for what do they take us?’

wt7“One waiter had beckoned to another, they stood staring at us, then hurried away for the head waiter. Oh, he was polite. ‘When does your escort arrive?’ he asked with his beautiful smile. ‘Escort?’ repeated my lady. ‘Your father, husband, brother?’ ‘We have no gentleman coming to join us.’ He grew more polite, more smiling. ‘I am sorry, indeed, but this table is engaged.’ ‘Of course it is engaged,’ said my lady haughtily; ‘please send a waiter at once to take my order.’ But she did not have her little supper at the rathskeller. That head waiter told us very confidential—we could not eat there unless a gentleman was with us. So, all down that long room we had to walk, everybody watching us and wondering, I suppose, ‘Who are these terrible people, -—thieves or what?’”

“Such experiences,” said Martha, a plain-looking New England girl, “are valuable lessons for the women who travel. My mistress has had difficulties; she did not resent them, however. She feels that any house which opens its doors to the public has to guard itself against queer people, even if it sometimes turns down respectable ones. So she wires ahead to a number of hotels, wherever she is to stop—any hotel in your own town will give you a list of them. She learns about prices, accommodations, the distance from a railroad station, so she knows whether she has to take a carriage or not. She asks for menus, if the place is run on European style, then she has a fair idea of what living there will cost.”

“Are you girls on the go all the time?” I asked curiously.

“I am, for at least eight months of the year,” said Emily, a dainty little creature who was busily mending a lace flounce. “My mistress is Miss Marlitt, the actress. Travel with her is not the weariness it is in some positions because she has reduced packing to a science. Every bit of baggage she owns either for the hotel or the theater is a thing of such neatness and convenience that ‘living in a trunk,’ as we say, is as easy as if one were at home. I cannot afford many of the small contrivances Miss Marlitt owns, but I have adopted some of them to make travel easier for myself.”

“Tell us of them,” begged Miranda.

“Well, there is my little scheme for carrying hats. I punch two holes, an inch apart, in the lid of the top tray of my trunk and run in a yard of tape. Over this I lay my hat, top up, filled with any light-weight articles. I stick a long hat pin through it, as if I were putting it on my head, then over and over the hat pin I wind the tape, which ties securely on the other side of the lid. This draws the hat brim down tight. Around the crown and trimmings, I tuck other light articles, or tissue paper, which we use by the ream.”

“What do you do with so much tissue paper?” queried Annette.

“I crumple sheet after sheet of it and stuff the puffy sleeves of nice gowns, I wind it in twists about flowers and ribbons on hats and build little fences around perky bows or dress trimmings which do not stand crushing. Then my plan for carrying liquids defies the most violent baggage-smasher. When every bottle is corked securely, I set it in a square tin box, fill in between with clean, sawdust and lock it. All that is necessary when repacking is to empty the sawdust on a paper and pour it again around the bottles. When I go from the sleeping car to the dressing room I carry a linen affair which looks like a strapped music roll. Inside are numerous little pockets, one row lined with silk rubber holds a washrag. Tooth brush, sponge, and nail brush. In the others are tooth powder, a buttonhook, pins, brush and comb, my belt and collar, any small bits of jewelry, hairpins, a housewife with needles, thread, scissors, a thimble, hooks and eyes, and tape. A loop at the top hangs it up and as every pocket is labeled, dressing is a quick job.”

“I wish I might have my turn at the dressing room after you,” said Felice. “Ah, women are so mean, so slow, so don’t-care! One morning when we were getting into Chicago, we waited half an hour for a—person to let us have our turn. A line of other women were waiting; some of them rapped at the door, some of them said things. At last somebody went for the conductor. He made the person open the door. Her hair was dressed as if she were going to a party, she was rouged, powdered, manicured, perfumed, hatted and veiled and she smiled so triumphant! I had to brush my lady’s hair while she sat in her berth, and our faces, we could not wash them till we got to our hotel.”


 “Another thing.” continued Emily, “that women ought to know is that it is a conductor’s duty to hear the appeal of any woman who has the un— welcome attentions of a man thrust upon her. ‘I have in mind,’ said my brother. ‘one man who boards my train three times a week. He is rich, well dressed, good-looking and holds a fine position in his own town. He walks past seats occupied by a homely woman or in which a man is lounging till he finds a pretty girl. Then politely enough he takes his place beside her. A refined woman is so afraid of making a scene she would rather endure any unpleasantness than call the conductor. Women ought to complain in such cases. It can be done so quietly that even the passenger in the next seat need not know what is happening. It means not only protection for one woman but for others. One experience of that sort would make such a man wary in the future. I keep an eye on young girls who are traveling alone. More than once in the midst of a flirtation with some man who is not fit to speak to her, I have escorted a pretty child to the Pullman and given her a bit of fatherly advice. But I would say to mothers if it is necessary, send your ten year-old daughter across the continent in the care of conductors and a kindly public—she is safe; but when she is eighteen. pretty, a bit headstrong, perhaps, and innocently fond of admiration and attention, don‘t send her on a hundred mile journey alone.’

“There is not a doubt of it,” cried Martha, heartily. “Dear me! how some women do dress when they travel! They fairly outrage every law of good breeding. I wish you could have seen a vision that flounced through our car the other morning. Her blonde hair was in a wild frowzle, she wore a billowy wrapper of baby blue silk fluttering with frills, ribbons and laces, while she fairly blazed with diamonds. I’m glad Miranda was not there, she would have classified her as a wild American.”

Miranda’s handsome face flushed. “I am guilty already of thinking that some American women do dress queerly when they travel, although,” she added hastily, “you would see plenty of such display in England and the Continent. You can always pick out the real aristocrat there by the plainness of her clothes when she travels. She wears, as Lady Chesterton does, a simple walking suit with a dark silk waist which sheds dust, a long traveling coat and a plain hat with very little trimming on it. A wrapper of soft black silk and black bed slippers are all that is necessary for the sleeping car. Jewels and filmy negligees she reserves for home wear, her elaborate gowns for carriage drives and garden parties.


“’You know dogs are forbidden on this road,’ he [the conductor] said sternly. “It goes in the baggage car and you pay half fare for it.’


“Do tell me then how to care for children when traveling,” cried Annette.

“Get acquainted with them before they start and discover what they like to do,” said Martha. “I once brought five motherless little ones from Oklahoma to Maine, and there never was a fretful, uncomfortable half-hour. We secured the end of the Pullman and in my grip I had stowed away hooks, paper dollies and doll house furniture, games, a scrapbook with pictures ready to cut out and paste, beads to string and for the elder girls dolls’ clothes ready to sew. When we got on the cars I took off the children’s traveling clothes and put each one in a soft, thin play frock with round neck and short sleeves. I had a roll of old linen cut in squares and a pint bottle filled with suds from good toilet soap. A few drops of this added to a cup of cold water cleansed smutty faces or grimy hands, then the soiled washrag was tossed from the window. The children had their dining car meals at the same hours they would have eaten at home and they had the wholesome food to which they were accustomed. There was no candy or cookies between meals, only an occasional drink of cool milk or filtered water from the dining car, for I have a horror of the beverage served from a railroad ice water tank. At 3 o’clock, the three little ones were laid on a rug on the floor with comfortable pillows under their heads and the shades down to shut out the sun. While they napped I read a story to the elder ones. Before 8 they were all in bed and at once dropped off to sleep without the least trouble.

When the conductor assured us we had ten minutes to spare, I took the youngsters for a breath of fresh air and to stretch their legs, whether it was on the platform of a busy depot or on the green prairie by a water tank.”

“Did you have a plentiful supply of eyestones along?” asked Emily.

“Better than that,” said Martha, “I had a tiny camel’s hair brush, which will remove a railroad cinder in a second. Ah, I must not forget the aid I had from the children‘s aunt. She dropped a bundle in my grip just before we started. It held a bunch of envelopes, one was to be given each child at a certain hour every day. Sometimes the envelope held some nonsense rhymes that we all laughed over, or a Japanese butterfly which was wound up until its wings were in tatters, a paper ball. a tiny mirror to flash reflections, puzzles or conundrums with their answers in the next envelope, funny pictures, pencils and paper, stories out from magazines or postals of scenery we had to pass.”

A little advertising…




The Proper Gentleman Cyclist – Bicycle Etiquette from 1896

I must warn my gentle readers that in this post “we are not dealing with the new woman…we prefer the good, old-fashioned kind, the gentle woman, in fact, although we have mounted her upon a pair of wheels. She has broadened her intellect, but we want the same sweet, coquettish feminine woman just the same.”

That’s right, because “it is not customary at this period of the nineteenth century to indulge in the ceremonious chivalry of the knights of old, but the attitude of a gentleman toward a lady is still founded upon the same old-fashioned notions. Let the new woman prate as much as she please about her independence of man, but she is the first, nevertheless, to rise up in indignation if any of the same old time chivalry is omitted…Therefore, the man will do all in his power to make the ride pleasurable for the lady.”

And we all know every sweet, coquettish lady loves a pleasurable ride! So, thank heavens for John Wesley Hanson’s Etiquette and Bicycling for 1896! Ladies, I’m sure after reading this excerpt, you’ll want to grab your bike (and your chaperone) and run over some chivalrous gentleman cyclist.


It is not strictly correct for a young lady to ride unaccompanied. There appears to be a growing tendency among people of refinement in this country to be more rigid in the matter of chaperones, although as yet we can hardly be said to have approached the strict rules of the French, who do not allow a young woman to cross the street, to say nothing of shopping or calling, without being accompanied by a woman of mature years.

The unmarried woman who cycles must be chaperoned by a married woman, but as ever one rides nowadays, this is an affair easily managed. Neither must the married woman ride alone. If unable to provide herself with a male escort, she must be followed by a groom or a maid. In this latter connection a woman is very fortunate if among her men or women servants one knows how to ride a bicycle. Women occasionally go to the expense of having a servant trained in the art.

In mounting, a gentleman who is accompanying a lady holds her wheel. She stands on the left side of the machine and puts her right foot across the frame of the right pedal, which at the time must be up. Pushing the right pedal causes the machine to move and then with the left foot in place, the rider starts, slowly at first, in order to give her cavalier time to mount his wheel, which he is expected to do in the briefest time possible. When the end of the ride is reached the man quickly dismounts and is at his companion’s side to assist her, she in the meantime assisting herself as much as possible.

A few hints…

Never pass by an accident without dismounting and inquiring what the trouble is, whether you can be of assistance; but bear in mind that any service you may render to a wheelwoman does not entitle you to her acquaintance without the usual form of introduction. It is always proper to speak to a wheelwoman who may be in need of assistance— humanity requires it.

Of course a gentleman will always remove his cap when making inquiries of a woman in reference to repairs or assistance if she is not one of his own party. Do not hesitate to leave your party temporarily to give assistance to a man or woman rider who really needs it. In following a path where there is not room for two abreast, let the woman go first, and be on the alert to dismount at a moment’s notice to help her in case of trouble. If a man were to go first on a bad road he might get a long way ahead of his companion without knowing that she was in distress.

A man always rides on the left side of a woman, because he can then have his right arm ready to give assistance. When riding in single file, a good distance should always be kept between riders, in order that those riding behind will not be upset in case of accidents to one in front. It is an imperative rule of good behavior that all women, handsome or otherwise, should receive the same attention; the latter are more than appreciative, and this fact is some recompense to a man doing his duty.

When coming up behind a rider going at a slower pace you should ring your bell until an answer is received, then swing off to the left. The rider in the lead will turn his wheel slightly to the right when he hears your signal to pass.

When riding past a vehicle going in the same direction always ring your bell. It is not good form to ring too frequently or too violently, except when exigencies of the case require it. To use a shrill whistle or a calliope is bad form at any time and indicates the novice.
When coming up behind a rider if you notice that his or her hind tire is flat, do not fail to call attention to the fact; it is a point of courtesy that is especially appreciated. It may happen when you go to the assistance of a woman rider who has had an accident you will have to take her wheel some distance to be repaired; it is then well to leave your wheel with her.

Always preserve your dignity and pay no attention to small boys or dogs, both of which are perfectly harmless to the average wheelman. Fancy and trick riding are not proper on the road; that sort of thing should be confined to the academy and riding schools.

What to wear…

Loud dressing is as much out of place upon a wheel as elsewhere, and, indeed, nowhere is refinement more apparent than as displayed in the cycling costume. The dress question for women is not yet settled by any means, but no self-respecting woman will wear a costume that is hardly distinguishable from a man’s, or that is otherwise conspicuous. Modesty is becoming at all times, and especially upon a bicycle.

The bloomer is being fast superseded by the more rational short-skirted costume that rather adds to, than detracts from, a woman’s appearance. A prominent physician advises women cyclists to wear woolen clothing, the head covering light, low shoes, leggings, and no corsets. A practical costume is designed to allow perfect freedom of movement. The Alpine hat is considered the proper head-gear for women.

Men should wear a short loose-fitting sack coat of some light woolen material, with knickerbockers to match, woolen stockings, cap, low shoes and a negligee shirt, or if the day is cold, a sweater.


And always remember…

In balancing a bicycle the body must be kept erect and in a direct line with the frame of the wheel, bending and swaying with its motion. The eye should be kept up and looking straight ahead. It takes three lessons to enable the average man to learn to manage a wheel, while a woman usually needs five.