At 10:15 P. M. the band struck up Davis' royal anthem, "If Ever I Cease to Love,'' the folding doors between the ball room and the throne room rolled back, and forth marched the royal court, headed by four heralds with their brazen trumpets, followed by courtiers to the number of twenty, including the majestic and dignified pursuivants in their flowing robes of golden color, and carrying their golden wands as if they themselves were equal to bearing the weight of the court's royalty.

Behind them marched the King, preceded by the bearers of the crown and orb, and followed by a detachment of courtiers. Twice around the ball room the procession held its way, at the close of which the King selecting from the assemblege a lady to honor him as temporary Queen, the line filed into the throne room, where the King and Queen took their places, one on either throne, the court ranging itself on either side of the thrones.

  • The Earl Marshal, now advancing to the door, gave notice to the awaiting assembly that the King and Queen would receive their subjects, who marching in at the right, paid their obeisances on passing the thrones, receiving in return acknowledgments, and thence filing to the left, passed out.

  • The reception proper lasted fully three-quarters of an hour, and although the crush of people was quite fearful to behold, so admirable were the arrangements, that no delay of even the slightest nature occurred.

  • The Queen, selected for this occasion, Mrs. Fearn, was handsomely costumed in a plain black silk, with hair elegantly dressed a la pompadour, while her attire was noticeably free from ornamentation.

  • The reception concluded, the King and Queen descended from tbeir thrones, and, unattended, sought the ball room, where they mingled with the gay throng, but only to promenade, the observed, of course, of all observers.


    Notwithstanding the cynical philosophy of these latter days, there are circumstances in which a man may be partioned for the gushing form of expression. No matter in what sardonic frame of mind the wearied reporter ascended the winding stairs of Exposition Hall, it was altogether impossible for him to preserve it after entering the grand ball room and coming under the magic influence of that scene.

  • Decorations of Oriental magnificence, lights of blending radiance, and the intangible exhalations of youth and beauty are not to be viewed stoically by living man. That heaving sea of faces sparkle with beauty's eyes, and the zephyrs which flutter across its bosom are heavy with sensuous perfumes that never blew from nature's caves.

  • The world of those beings who give joy forever is here to gladden men's poor souls. Fashion, with its hydra-headed fantasies and conceits, has exhausted all its craft in enhancing beauty, which seems, in this dazzling light, to need no aggravation. As we watch the never-ending circle of promenaders, we see the representatives of every State pass by. Here is a group of exquisite maidens from the warm plains of Georgia, Alabama and Mississippi, and there a glowing delegation of Kentucky's fairest daughters, with their splendid presence and luxuriant charms. The beauty of Chicago, St. Louis, Baltimore, New York — nay, did we not see some clear cut profiles and delicate, symmetrical forms from Boston? — moved by in the kaleidescope cortege.

  • The sparkling Creole is here in force. There may be richer dresses than hers, but none more tasteful and winning to the unprofessional eye. Her lythe form and mellow black eyes are passing beautiful to us, who find them always beautiful.

  • The average young man, viewing the glittering procession from vantage ground about the door, feels his waistcoat throb with new sensations.

  • And well may it be so; for he is looking at that for which men have done and died since tradition rose from myth. Never did Launcelot or Modred lay his lance in rest for sweeter lips and brighter eyes, even though he chose them from the galaxy that shone at Camelot.

  • But a sudden muffled prelude is heard, and soon the passionate throb of Strauss' masterpiece drowns the soft tumult. The ripple of woman's laughter and the rustle of her silken robes are lost in these other sounds, and the stately process of the promenade melts into the voluptuous movement of the waltz.


    Were not only general and very profuse, but marked by a refiued taste and desire to honor the occasion, which must have been gratifying to his Majesty. All public buildings and private residences along the line of march, stores and offices bore evidence of our people's loyalty to their Sovereign, and everywhere actions spoke louder than words, with the popular acclaim, "Long Live the King!"