The Reina Maria Cristina arrived in New York late in the night of the 18th of May.

In the morning, the U.S. dispatch-boat Dolphin, bearing the representative of the President of the United States, was seen to be lying at anchor just outside Sandy Hook, on the New Jersey coast. It would seem that the Dolphin expected the Reina Maria Cristina to move into the bay, while the latter awaited the former outside the bar. Etiquette had again crept in. Finally, an understanding was reached through the mediation of the Spanish consul, for it was explained that it was impossible for the Infanta to enter a foreign port in any ship but a Spanish man-of-war, whereupon the Dolphin saluted the Infanta with twenty-one guns, and then followed in the wake of the cutter sent for her by the Spanish frigate Isabel, on board of which she was received with Royal honours. While on the cruiser, a delegation from the Spanish colony in New York came to welcome her, and to pay her its respects. The ceremony was of the briefest and most formal kind, the visitors being introduced by her chamberlain, the Duc de Tamames. Shortly afterwards, she landed at Jersey City, and entrained thence for Washington.

The Infanta arrived at the capital at eight o’clock the same evening, being met at the station by Secretary Gresham, representing the President of the United States, and by Assistant Secretaries Quincy and Adee, who, after welcoming the nation’s guest, conveyed her in the President’s state carriage to the Arlington Hotel. Next day, she called on the President at the White House, and two hours later her call was returned by Mrs. Cleveland and the wives of the members of the Cabinet.

During her brief and enjoyable stay in Washington, the Infanta devoted most of her time to sight-seeing, and visited the home of George Washington at Mount Vernon, on the opposite side of the Potomac. The President and Mrs. Cleveland gave a dinner in honour of Her Royal Highness, and Sir Julian Pauncefote’s ball at the British Embassy to celebrate Queen Victoria’s birthday was honoured by the Infanta’s presence. During her sojourn in the capital, she attended St. Matthew’s Church. She naturally was besieged by callers from the Embassies and Legations, as well as by people prominent in social circles of the capital.

On May 25th she left Washington en route for New York, and at Jersey City was greeted by committees of the citizens of New York and of the Spanish residents, the principal officers of the Spanish warships in port, and the Spanish consul. On reaching New York she was welcomed by the Mayor (the Hon. Thomas F. Gilroy), and afterwards escorted to the Savoy Hotel. In reply to the address delivered by Mayor Gilroy the Infanta said:

“I am delighted with the graciousness of the pleasant reception you have tendered me. In fact, my welcome has been so hearty and spontaneous that I am confused, and hardly know what to say.”

Her round of pleasure was to begin on the very evening of her arrival. While dining, she was greeted with the strains of Spain’s “Royal March” from a band stationed on the Piazza, while a group of New York Spaniards cheered vociferously, and clamoured for her appearance. She graciously showed herself on the balcony. When, just as she was returning to the dining-room, she was asked at what hour she desired to go to the theatre, her answer, as recorded by an American journalist, was:

“From nine to ten, to show myself to the people who have been so kind to me; but I should so like to be back at ten o’clock, for I am very tired, and I would like to come home and go to sleep.”

On the following day she was entertained at a ball given in her honour in the Concert Hall of Madison Square Garden. It was there that she made an impression that served her well throughout her stay in the United States, her tact and simplicity of manner placing everyone at ease. There had been bitter heart-burnings as to who would be spoken to by the Infanta, and much intriguing had taken place, in order to secure an entrée to the charmed Royal circle. These jealousies were dispelled by the Infanta herself, who chatted affably with all, making no invidious distinctions.

“We felt we were all hostesses,” was the comment of a prominent New York lady.