Národní listy 10/1/1863 published news of a series of ‘Redouty’ [‘Redout’ or ‘redoute’ was a term, common to both Czech and German, for a masked ball]. The source related: ‘Redouty [Redouts]. On Sunday in the New Town Theatre will take place the first masked ball. In total there will be during this year’s Carnival 7 masked balls, specifically the first on Sunday and the last on Shrove Tuesday.’ On 12/2/1863 Národní listy published a Theatre Bill announcing: ‘On Sunday 15th Februaru takes place sixth masked ball in New Town Theatre.’ The same information was offered by a Theatre Bill published in Národní listy in the day of the event.

Bohemia 15/2/1863 announced in its Tagesprogramm daily almanac of musical events ‘Evening in the New Town theatre: Masked Ball.’ Also on this evening a benefit ball for the poor, an ‘Armenball’, was noted as due to be given in the Žofín Island Hall. No further details of the Masked Ball appeared in this issue of this newspaper, neither was the event reported in previous issues. Bohemia 16/2/1863 published a brief summary of the ball, reporting: ‘(The Redoute yesterday) was plentifully [massenhaft] attended. The elegant masked procession of devils, the many kinds of tomfoolery, gave great enlivenment to the entertainment.’ No further details were given by the source.

Národní listy 10/2/1863 announced in a Theatre Bill that: ‘On Sunday 15th February takes place the sixth masked ball in the New Town Theatre.’ The Theatre Bill published in Národní listy 15/2/1863 noted: ‘Today 15th February takes place the sixth masked ball in the New Town Theatre.’

Prager Morgenpost 17/2/1863 published a substantial review of what was evidently a very colourful occasion: ‘The Masked Ball [Redoute]. After five more or less similar masked balls, last night’s [actually the night before last, the 15th] Redoubt, the penultimate in the present Carnival, finally delivered us a taste of our beloved Shrovetide season. No longer were the masks in the minority, as had been the case in the previous so-called Masked Balls, but formed a respectable majority that clearly showed the best of wills, as well as the means, of making this Redoubt a truly high-spirited Fools’ Festival [Narrenfeste]. It proved that even in Prague one can find the material for fools’ evenings. When we arrived at 10 o’clock, the entire theatre was already filled with the most colourful crowd, and only with effort could we hear the tones of the military music above the general noise. And what in any case was the music for? In such a throng dancing was unthinkable and the few who attempted it seemed to have misunderstood the purpose of the Redoubt. Rather, people came to play the fool, and to be made fools of. The colour and richness of the costumes was most intriguing. As well as the perennial Pierrots, Harlequins, Dominos and Turks, there were many character costume to be seen. Kreuzberg seems to have given his menagerie the evening off, as countless tame and wild animals strolled about the hall, from the good-natured lamb to the jealous lion. A roebuck tried to set down his antlers on certain married men, some of whom were not amused, particularly if their prettier halves happened to be talking to another mask at that moment. Many of the ladies’ masks were elegant and entirely respectable. At half past ten the devil was really let loose, or rather an entire posse of devils, creating a truly hellish spectacle in the galleries. The devils appeared to be in an argument with another. A scuffle broke out among them; the one who appeared to have started it was seized and, amid loud hollering, was hoisted out over the rampart of the gallery and – cast down. The crowd let out a loud cry, concerned for the injured, but he hung swinging from a rope in the hall and was entirely unhurt – it was a life-size doll. The devils now began their noisy move down into the hall, while a band of musicians from the animal world set up such an awful racket of music that the ladies were close to fainting. The colourful troupe moved a few times around the hall and gave the crowd several likenesses of Satan incarnate. The devils then spread themselves out into the various areas of the hall and began to create intrigues there. Many of those present also received gifts from the devils, which however turned out to be bitter disappointments. Thus for example a package bearing the tempting words ‘Many Thousands’ contained, in multiple layers of wrapping, – a mousetrap, and a bonbon carton made from elegant paper contained a piece of old cheese. In some of the loggias boards were erected on which cheap jokes were displayed for the general benefit. After midnight the colourful event continued to increase in jollity and wantonness, and at three o’clock in the morning both masked and unmasked participants were still avidly engaged in enjoying the Redoubt.’

A colourful review of this event was also published by the German-language newspaper Bohemia 17/2/1863. The unsigned critic wrote: ‘(The day before yesterday’s Redoute) was the most well-attended and most lively in the present series. Towards 11 o’clock the crowds had already increased to the extent that we could get into the hall only with difficulty. The ball-goer faltered at the sight, being able to move neither forwards nor backwards. Also all the upper rooms of the Hall, boxes and galleries were packed. It has already been mentioned [in the previous issue of the newspaper] that a masked procession arranged by a group young gentlemen contributed to a great part of the evening’s entertainment. The greater part of the procession consisted of between fifteen and twenty devils, all elegantly dressed. They wore red [Wämmfer – tails?] with black wings, red tights and gloves: the facemasks (from a well-known local modeller) were very characteristic and covered the entire head. The procession came forward with a musical ensemble with animal masks, among which were particularly splendid the langorously swaggering lion and the drum-beating ass. Behind the band, making an ear-splitting pageant on shrill instruments, rode the chief devil in a red chariot drawn by several devils, hands full of sheets that he gave out to the public on which was lithographed the image of a costumed devil with the motto: „All-knowing I am not, for I am aware of everything.“ Several devils with big feather dusters encircled their leader. Behind the chariot came several more devils with a stretcher, on which all sorts of gifts were found, rejections for those engaged to be married [Körbe für Heiratscandidaten], brooms for the State Reform Commission [Besen für die Stadtreinigungs-Commission], a cage with live chattering ducks with the surtitle „News-Ducks“ [Zeitungs-Enten] etc. Unfortunately the procession could barely proceed once around the Hall.’ The review continued to comment almost exclusively upon the antics of the devils, such as in their clambering over ballustrades and giving out mischievous texts. No comment was made upon the musical content of the occasion.