A Good Description of Mardi-gras.
In the winter, just before Lent, occurs the event that draws more people here than anything else. That event is Mardi-gras. Then the city puts on a festive air, the merchants decorate their stores with the royal colors—purple, green, and yellow—and every one prepares to receive his Majesty Rex, who reigns supreme for the short time he is here. A large fleet goes down the river to meet the royal yacht, and when the King and his suite land at the foot of Canal Street they are met by the Mayor, the city officials, the city, State, and visiting militia, and are escorted to the City Hall, where the keys of the city are delivered to him. Numerous secret societies made up of society men give balls and processions at this time. Prominent among them are the Krewe of Comus, Krewe of Proteus, and others.
Rex arrives Monday, and Tuesday is Mardi-gras day. Then the fun commences. All the small boys and girls in town, and some large ones, dress up in fantastic costumes and masks, and the streets are filled with the "Mardi-gras's," as they call them. Last year and the year before there was a band of Indians—about fifty; the costumes were splendid, and when they came whooping up the street they seemed quite like the real article. At about eleven o'clock Rex's parade makes its appearance, and passes along the principal streets. Such crowds you seldom see; the street is a solid mass of people as far as the eye can reach. Every one, young and old, big and small, white and black, turns out to see his august Majesty Rex. The mounted police force a way through the people for the parade to pass. In front of the Boston Club the parade stops, and the King presents the young lady who is to be Queen with a beautiful bunch of flowers, and drinks her health, and that of her maids of honor. While the procession is passing, the maskers on the different floats throw handful after handful of candy to the people that line the windows and galleries on each side of the street. The parade is past at last, and everybody begins to think about getting home, and ready for the one in the evening and the two balls.
The evening parade of Krewe of Proteus is always beautiful, and so is the ball that follows. Rex has his ball also in the evening. The first three dances at the ball are reserved for the maskers, who have for their partners young ladies out of the audience. These are informed by note beforehand, so they are always prepared. They never know who they dance with, unless it be a case of husband and wife. After three dances the dancing becomes general, and the maskers slip out, and come back in regulation evening dress, that you do not notice the change. These balls are beautiful sights—the maskers in their rich costumes, and the ladies in handsome evening dresses.
The balls are held in the French Opera-House, an immense building, which is always packed to its utmost capacity. Each king (and there is one for every ball) chooses his queen from the society girls, and she has three maids of honor. They are always dressed gorgeously. The next morning it is all over until the next year, and society settles down in sackcloth and ashes until Easter. Thousands of dollars are spent every year on this event, but New Orleans wouldn't be New Orleans without its Mardi-gras. Rex is always a prominent man.
Sophie Eleanor Clark.
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