Dancing in the King’s Palace.

New Zealand Graphic, Volume XXX, Issue XI, 14 March 1903, Page 722

Dancing in the King’s Palace.

When a girl has safely survived the ordeal of a presentation at Court, said a young society lady to a writer in

“Tit Bits’’—and I can assure you it is a most formidable, if fascinating, ordeal for nine girls out of ten —she begins to look forward with keen delight to the dav when she will be invited to dance in the King’s Palaee. This is the crown of her social ambition, and has few of the terrors of a presentation.

1 shall always have the pleasantest memories of my first ball at Buckingham Palace. This was, of course, in Queen Victoria’s lifetime; but one State ball is exactly like another, and as so many are looking forward to a resumption'of these agreeable functions perhaps a little account of what they are like may prove interesting. Certainly the overture to a Royal ball is anything but attractive —the slow, almost endless procession of carriages creeping along the Mall and halting every few yards; but this, like all things, conies to an end. and when at last we emerge tl.ro gh the Palaee gates, where a courteous police official takes our cards of invitation, and pass into the courtyard, gay with the uniforms of the Household Cavalry, Guards, and Hussars, the translation is a delightful antepast of all that is to come. As we leave our carriage and enter the large and brilliantly-lighted en-trance-hull it is like passing into a fairyland of dazzling colours. Here are drawn up the famous Yeomen of the Guard in their picturesque, old-world uniform, bringing back a glimpse of England when Henry VIH. was King. Here, in brilliant groups or moving from one point io another, are men and women attired in a splendour that Solomon might have envied, and in colours more varied ami certainly more artistic than those of Joseph’s coat. Duchesses ami countesses blazing with jewels, and wearing the most sumptuous and dainty gowns that skill and money can produce; Cabinet Ministers in all the glory of gold-embroidered uniforms and stockings of pink silk; admirals in their more sober but effective attire of blue, with epaulettes of gold; famous generals in all the splendours of scarlet and gold: stalwart young officers of Life Guards ami Hussars, many-hued as peacocks; portly Ambassadors, ablaze with orders, rubbing shoulders with dandified young attaches with eyeglasses; diplomats in fezes, and mandarins in yellow- silk jackets—all smiling, chatting, joking, and grouping and re grouping themselves in the bewildering movements of a kaleidoscope.

Along the magnificent corridor, hung with priceless pictures and flanked by exquisite statuary and objects of art gathered from every part of the world, the same brilliant crowd overflow’s; and on the luxurious couches lining the length of the corridor sit stately dowagers side by side with young lovers, who are snatching a few golden moments before the ball begins. But their time is short, for in a few moments the strains of “God Save the King” are borne to our ears; the brilliant procession of Royal personages files past, and in a long, glittering stream the hundreds of guests flow- in its wake to the ballroom.

Of the magnificence of this room 1 need not speak, beyond saying that it is perhaps the most superb ballroom in England, more than 100 ft, long and 58ft. wide, and 54ft. high, and that its decoration alone is said to have cost £300,000. At one end is a low’ dais, on which are chairs for the Royalties: on its right are seats, rising in tiers, re-

served for the principal peeresses, while other seats running round the hall are appropriated to less exalted guests. The musicians are in a gallery on the side opposite the Royal dais. The ball invariably opens with a quadrille, the principal sets in which are made up of Royal dancers with a privileged sprinkling of the most exalted guests. Ambassadors and their wives, or members of foreign Royal families. The King himself is still an ardent lover of a dance, and on the occasion I refer to took part in quite half the dances with the enthusiasm and much of the activity of a boy. The first dance is always formal, and comparatively few of the guests take part in it; but when the demands of ceremonial have been thus satisfied, the

remainder of the evening is as delightfully free from formality as at a coun-try-house ball; and with a perfect floor, the most enchanting music, and ideal partners, the debutante who cannot for get her tremors and enjoy herself must be a very poor kind of creature.

In the intervals between the dances there are endless secluded and cool corridors and deserted State rooms, where sell and her partner may wander or sit. Supper is heralded by the strains of "God Save the King.” The Royal procession is re-formed and files slowly out of the room, conducted by the Lord Chamberlain, and the Lord Steward walking backwards, to the Garter Room, where, as also in the Green Drawingroom, a sumptuous repast awaits them. Then those who prefer a good dance to

the attractions of a supper have a delightful time without any of the restraints of ceremony; and personally I may say that this supper interval was by far the best part of the evening.

Again to the strains of “God Save the King” the Royalties return and resume their places either on the dais or in the dance, and thus the evening progresses merrily to the end, when the national air finally announces that the Royal ball, like all things mundane, is at an end. The King and Queen. Princes and Princesses, retire with the same ceremony, and the brilliant company vanishes, swift as carriages can take them away, into the dark outer world, to spend later a delightful hour before retiring in chatting over the incidents and impressions of the ball.