The independent-reporter. [volume] (Skowhegan, Me.) 1909-1955, 1911-07-13


he has had a fine opportunity to OBJ
serve the ways of the English. Those
who have ever had the pleasure o
talking with him find him most in
terestng He is graphic in his descrip
ton and his wit and humor give spice
to his stories. In writing home to {
friend on his impressions of the Cor
onation, the friend found the letter 81
interesting that he thought that Mr.
Morrison's many friends would enjoy
reading 1t and is therefore published
herewith:
The greatest play ever conceived
and staged is the Coronation. Every
tradition of dramatic art is utilized.
Never were there more skilful stage
carpenters" nor ever was there so
wonderful stage as this great,
brooding city of London.
When one considers that the whole
world, white, black and tan, becomes
an audience that waits on the hour
that covers two human heads, we
must say in all reverence, Gas dear
old Joe Jefferson once said facetious-
ly of the COW that was credited with
milk punch), God! what play"
Surely a plot that can grip the
whole earth and use its circumfer-
ence for a girdle must interest a
thinking man.
If today the last period of the
monarchial pageants can reveal such
gigantic power, one cannot but mar
vel at the giant strength and super
human courage that inspired those
dauntless Pilgrims TO build our be-
loved America. Marvellous indeed
that their fragile ships could traverse
those months of endless seas; but how
much more marvellous that their stall
wart men could weather the mael-
storm of state, church and tradition
breaking over them in all its fury.
But to get back to 1911 and the 22nd
Of June ! have just come up from
the underground railway, and | step
from a dingy tunnel under the earth
into the most brilliant pageant that
ever clothed its surface. The dull
roar of the London crowd strikes the
ear like the sound of md-ocean; six
millions of people thinking and
speaking of one thing.
| step from the sidewalk in front
of the Cavalry club on Oxford street
and by special grace of the PRO
vidential Law" that looks after two
of its kind q will not specialize)
stepped into an opening and reached
the second row. 1t was 1890 as
did this, not quite an hour before
the procession. The man on my right
informs me he has been standing
there since a. m, on my left two
Red Cross men are carrying a wo-
man away in a dead faint; she had
been there all night" (16 hours).
A double line of soldiers on each
side of the street reaching the entire
distance of march stand living dyke
to breast a living sea 1t is an easy
crowd to handle, and it is good
natured for suddenly a loud roar of
laughter goes up down the street and
sweeps up increasing by the time it
reaches us into pandemonium. A
dog" has gotten into the street and
officers, "be-medaed" and god-like in
their uniforms have become amazing
ly human and are in full pursuit, for
this thing is rdiculously serious.
The dog is game" and as it lodges
first this one and the other a roar of
approval goes up from all sides
Finally he is captured, lifted on a
horse and carried apparently in state
down the pathway of King. Truly
some dogs have their day Every
one is relieved; titled eyes in the
boxes gaze approvingly through lorg-
nettes; officers slap each other on
the backs, and so another FIVE min
utes of the endless waiting is past
At last you hear a sharp command.
the idle soldiers suddenly become 50
many statutes The officers swords
flash into attention. and the great
procession is here In its glory.
will not describe. for words spelled
even with green ink" cannot reveal.
1t is enough to say the pride of Eng
land and its dominions from over the
seas were all represented; Canada,
Australia, New Zealand South Afri-
ca, India, all passed before your eyes.
The thing that impressed me was
that in all this ceremony the red God
of Mars was not only dominant but
absolute War Conquest, Empire:
these are the Trinity OF England's re
ligion. All was a record of combat:
the red cup Of blood drained to the
health of Empire"
There passed a squad of the famous
Cherry Hussars' with their scarlet
britches, so colored in memory of the
time when tradition tells they waded
up to their middles in blood to snatch
the wreath of victory