While this site focuses on the two people named as arranger and compiler of the original The Ghosts of My Friends, it's helpful to outline what the albums were, how they worked, and cover some cultural context.
The autograph album fad, which peaked in the late 19th century and continued into the early 20th century, saw individuals, particularly young people, collecting signatures and short messages from friends, family, classmates, and sometimes even notable figures, in specially bound books. Originating in Europe as "friendship books" among scholars, the trend spread to America, becoming a popular way to commemorate relationships and life events like graduations. These albums often contained sentimental verses, drawings, pressed flowers, and other small keepsakes alongside the signatures. While yearbooks eventually replaced them in schools, autograph albums served as personal records of social connections and cherished memories during this period.
The first editions of these albums were small, colorful, cloth bound, slender books, fitting comfortably in the palm of your hand, measuring about seven by four inches. The covers have The Ghosts of My Friends in gilt serif lettering and featured an inset of the "ghost" of a celebrated general (according to the front matter in the book). Their compact size made them easy to carry to social gatherings, where they were most likely to be used.
Inside, after the flyleaf, came the directions: "Sign your name along the fold of the paper with a full pen of ink, and then double the page over without using blotting paper." The celebrated ghost from the cover appears on the reverse of the directions page, opposite the title page. On the title page, most copies list Cecil Henland as the arranger, and either Dow & Lester or Frederick A. Stokes, Co. as the publisher. On the reverse appears the poem Ghosts by Gerald Villiers Stuart.
Beyond the front matter, the pages were mostly blank. Unlike standard autograph albums with pre-printed lines or decorative borders, The Ghosts of My Friends albums featured mostly blank pages with a line at the top marked Date and a line at the bottom marked Name. A faint vertical line was created from the pages being pre-folded to guide the signer.
Most of The Ghosts of my Friends editions out there are as described above. And a vast majority of those carry the name Cecil Henland on the title page. But in 1938, a second version of The Ghosts of My Friends appears. This version is from Frederick A. Stokes Co. and carries the name Capini Vequin on the title page. These versions are especially rare. To learn more about the various editions on the book, see Evolution of Ghosts.
The Ghosts of My Friends albums were more than just a place to collect names. They represented a departure from the traditional autograph book, where sentimental messages and well wishes were the primary focus. The central idea behind these albums was to transform the simple act of signing one's name into the creation of a unique and somewhat enigmatic image, or "ghost."
The goal wasn't just to remember who you knew, but to capture a fleeting, ink-blotted representation of their presence, a "ghost" born from their signature. This novel approach is what sets The Ghosts of My Friends albums apart and made them a fascinating cultural artifact of their time.
To truly appreciate the charm and significance of The Ghosts of My Friends autograph albums, it's essential to understand the cultural landscape of the early 20th century, the period of their peak popularity. These albums weren't created in a vacuum. They reflected and tapped into several prevailing social trends and interests of the time.
The tradition of keeping autograph albums was already well-established by the turn of the century. These albums served as tangible records of friendships, school days, and social connections. They were often filled with sentimental verses, well wishes, and signatures, acting as mementos of important relationships and life stages. The Ghosts of My Friends built upon this existing fondness for autograph albums, offering a novel and playful twist on a familiar pastime. Instead of simply collecting names, it offered an interactive and somewhat mysterious way to commemorate friendships.
The early 1900s was a time when social gatherings and "parlor games" were a central form of entertainment. Before the widespread adoption of radio and later television, people relied on interactive activities to amuse themselves and their guests. The Ghosts of My Friends albums fit perfectly into this context. The act of creating the "ghost" signatures was itself a form of parlor game – a fun and engaging activity that could be enjoyed by people of all ages.
This era also saw a growing fascination with the emerging field of psychology and an ongoing interest in the mysterious and the unseen. In fact, one reference tying these albums to psychological testing comes in Mark D. Altschule's Origins of Concepts in Human Behavior. In the final chapter discussing the origins of some miscellaneous psychological approaches, he writes:
"The Henland test differs from the Rorschach test. Whereas the Rorschach uses arbitrarily chosen, stereotyped inkblots, the Henland is based on blots made from the subject's own handwriting. Since the handwriting is itself to a greater or lesser extent an expression of unconscious personality factors, it is evident that the Henland test must be superior to the Rorschach test. Unfortunately, there are no known scholarly discussions of how to interpret the Henland test, although it is possible that some New England attic may someday produce such a work. In any case, the fact that the Henland technique was apparently used merely as a parlor game in rural New England should not derogate the test. It must be remembered that the laughing-gas parties of the sophisticated New England youth of a century ago were the forerunners of today's sodium-amytal interview." (pages 195-197)
There never was a "Henland test" (though I enjoy the concept), and there won't ever be a long lost cipher for how to interpret these books. There are also many, many more copies out there. They come up often on eBay and Abe Books. Of course, Alltschule was writing at a time before instant access to overwhelming amounts of information on the internet. With how little information there is even now, it's not a hard assumption to understand.
While not explicitly scientific, the creation of these abstract, inkblot-like "ghosts" might have subtly resonated with this cultural undercurrent. The act of interpreting the random shapes could have been seen as a lighthearted exploration of personality or even a playful nod to the idea of hidden characteristics revealed through abstract forms. The connection to the later Rorschach test, though coincidental, highlights this intriguing parallel. Furthermore, the very term "ghosts" might have tapped into a broader societal interest in spiritualism and the supernatural, even if the album's intent was purely for amusement.
The early 20th century was a time of innovation and a growing appetite for novelty. The Ghosts of My Friends albums offered something different and unique within the realm of autograph books. The idea of transforming a simple signature into a mysterious image was inherently appealing. It provided a break from the ordinary and allowed individuals to participate in creating something distinctive and personal. This desire for unique keepsakes and engaging social activities likely contributed significantly to the album's popularity during its time.
In essence, The Ghosts of My Friends autograph albums were a product of their era. They combined the established tradition of autograph collecting with the social entertainment of parlor games and subtly reflected the burgeoning cultural interest in psychology and the allure of novelty. They offer us a fascinating glimpse into the leisure activities and social dynamics of the early 20th century, reminding us of a time when simple, interactive amusements held a special place in people's lives.
More than just quirky collectibles, The Ghosts of My Friends autograph albums stand as a fascinating testament to early 20th-century social customs. These unique artifacts preserved a playful form of interaction, transforming signatures into whimsical ghosts on folded pages. In many ways, these little albums contain the ghosts of those who signed them.
By preserving these albums, we are preserving a tangible piece of early 20th-century popular culture and ensuring that the stories of these ghostly signatures continue to intrigue and fascinate future generations.