Realm Of The Merry

An account to the Lords and Ladies of All Nations of the ball honoring Her Majesty, Queen of the realm of We Make History, as described by Your Humble Servant, Viscount Christopher Francis.

In the Year Of Our LORD 1757

My Dearest Readers,

With great happiness I report a Grand Ball with Her Majesty the Queen and His Lordship, a gathering of high fashion and temperament, attended by their loyal subjects and visiting nobility of kingdoms far and wide. On this occasion, they were a small yet heartened number, encouraged by the host with one key word.

"Elegance!" he pronounced before the assembled, meaning elegance in dress, in manner, and most importantly, dancing.

I must note his leadership by example, clothed in a regal blend of red jacket and breeches adorned by a golden weskit, topped by the extraordinary efforts of the Court Wigmaker. But I shall not leave you in suspense as to the attire of Her Royal Majesty, the portrait of a joyous monarch in her golden gown and bows with flashes of scarlet, crowned with a white feathered wig. To see her smile is to feel the strength and confidence of a Loving And Righteous Kingdom.

They led a procession in which I had the honour of escorting a beautiful Countess in a brightly-coloured gown of pink.

"You are becoming a regular at these events," she noted to my gracious acknowledgment, having traveled great distance to attend the regal soirée two times before.

Her Majesty and His Lordship embarked in a diversion of Follow The Leader, winding the dancers around them like a spool of thread and then unwinding and looping about the ballroom until all finally stood in a great circle.

In this Realm Of The Merry, honour permeates everything, but lest there be any doubt, His Lordship provided a few words of instruction on the gestures of civility.

A bow, he said, may be performed one of two ways. One with feet together and hands spread apart as the body gracefully bends; the other, with one foot in front. However, he cautioned, the second way was less formal, "although we might think of it as more formal."

I must admit a moment of shock, having learned the second way from a dancing mistress in The English Colonies and ingraining it into my manner. Yet one must always seek improvement, and adapt I would, seeking acceptance amongst the gathered nobility. From a young Princess, the ladies learned a Royal Curtsy and its simple elegance with a sink and rise, eyes not leaving the one recieving honour.

His Lordship reminded us that it was important for the gentlemen to dance with many different ladies during the evening, and he wondered aloud if the assembled understood the reason why.

I ventured a guess. "Balls were social occasions, and you wanted to dance with as many partners as possible."

"Sir Christopher is entirely correct," he responded. But, he added, there was a higher purpose, and that everything we did should be "in honour of the ladies."

Your Humble Servant admits he knew this in his heart, although sadly the truth did not purse his lips. I resolved my actions would render my tongue inconsequential, and the charming Countess and I enjoyed a round of "Noel," a dance of lively skipping and circling. I thanked her with another bow, albeit I was still reminding myself to bow the formal way.

"May I escort you somewhere?" I asked her, remembering yet another instruction from His Lordship. She was well-pleased with my performance and offered kind sentiments for it, but a strong noblewoman she was, and she politely passed on my offer, seeking her next partner with a determined gate. At that moment, I realized had just danced with a future Queen.

A rumour made its way among the gathered, word of two Russians: one a legitimate ambassador; the other, an impostor. The steadfastness and joy of Her Majesty's Realm, alas, leads others to plot against her, somehow thinking they may attain the peace they are lacking through disingenuous means. Members of the nobility began questioning one another, hoping to unmask the spy.

I tell you the whiff of espionage had no ill effect, as the Lords and Ladies of the Realm enjoyed many dances in sets this evening, where the gathered stepped through graceful figures under the direction of the Royal Court Dancing Mistress, and I delighted myself with leading my partners, leading them up and down the line, turning them, and encouraging them if they thought their efforts futile. The asymmetries of "The Fields Of Frost And Snow" did not dismay us, nor did the winding turns of "Jack's Maggot," where a gentleman and two ladies loop in figure eights, and a lady and two gentlemen do as such. (Dearest readers, I should clarify the term "maggot" refers to a fanciful or whimsical idea, in the belief Jack might have conjured the idea for such a curving dance after a bite from a baser creature, if not from a friend named Daniel.)

The simplest steps produced the most delightful moments, as when I traded places with the lady across the set from me, my smile wide across my face and my eyes affixed on hers as we stepped to the center, my hands spread wide with a hint of a bow as my legs weaved around her and into place. When the call came for a right or left-hand star, my free hand would rise above my shoulder in an expression of joy, one others in the figure would happily imitate. To my delight, two of my favourite dances were part of the evening's celebration: "All Haste To The Wedding" and "Christchurch's Bells." Their simple grace allowed Your Humble Servant to devote his utmost attention to the lady across from him.

During a pause for refreshments, I happened upon a beautiful Countess from Spain. Madrid was truly at the forefront of style, as evidenced from the colour alone. Her glowing countenance permeated my heart at first glance, which explained the presence of the young Musketeer standing guard at her side, although he was a man oddly without sword.

"Purple," I complimented. "That is a color of royalty."

She graciously accepted the words. "And where are you from?" she inquired of me.

"Surrey, England," I replied. "But I have come via the newly established" -- or soon to be, in this time -- "pueblo of Tucson, protected by the finest of Spain, who I have a certain feeling will be helping the cause of liberty."

"And whose side are you on?"

"I am on the side of liberty," I answered, taking a stand that impressed her.

A few more pleasant words followed, but I soon had to excuse myself. "Can I count on you for a dance?" she inquired.

"You shall do more than count," I promised. "You shall have!"

When the dancing resumed and she emerged from the refreshment corridor, a gentleman of Austria found his way to her before me. To my diplomatic friends, I assure you I did not desire any petty hostilities between our nations, so I graciously deferred to him and sought the Countess at the next available opportunity.

"I am a man of my word and my promises," I said, falling into a low bow. "Will you honour me with a dance?"

As I expected, she honoured her word unflinchingly, accepting my hand as we joined a forming set of six for a dance entitled "Come, Let Us Be Merry," another one of my favourites. And Dear Readers, here I must confide to you that my joy achieved its pinnacle. For you see, the aforementioned dance is a beautiful three-quarter tempo highlighted by many bows and curtsies, a grand circle of graceful stepping, and most of all, the opportunity to lead a lady down the center of the line with a minuet step. And I must note here, too, I was joined in the set by His Lordship and Her Majesty, whose elegant movements inspired all of us, Her Majesty's especially -- she truly is The Dancing Queen!

So it should not surprise you, when the Countess and I assumed the role of head couple, we went to great lengths to show we were worthy of dancing in the Regal Presence. Every step I took, I took with refinement, turning and bowing and turning again, casting off to the middle of the set, and then leading the lady between the lines. Her eyes and mine connected as I led her, turning inwards and outwards on alternating beats, her smile once again running a needle through my heart, warming me thoroughly, and her entire face aglow with the joy of the dance. I must admit, I did not want that stately procession to end. If only I could have led her the length of the ballroom and then back again, perhaps capering around her at the end in her honour! However, I abided by convention and followed the dance to the letter.

"Tres bien," His Lordship remarked.

Upon the conclusion of the dance, I bowed to her deeply once again, my eyes misting over. But to my surprise, no tears would come tonight, not even tears of joy. I gather they escaped to my forehead instead.

Efforts to root out the spy intensified, and another rumour of skulduggery emerged: "The Crown Jewels have been stolen!"

"We shall have to employ the efforts of Her Majesty's Secret Service!" I cried.

In their steadfastness, Her Majesty and His Lordship showed no sign of alarm. They proceeded to the awarding of prizes by lot, challenging the winners to recite a fact pertaining to any queen of any kingdom. Unfortunately, many were unprepared, and despite the best efforts of His Lordship to coax out a fact -- any fact -- a few could do no more than resort to the common sentence in The Realm Of The Merry: a jig.

So ladies capered to the clapping encouragement of the assembled, finding joy even in punishment, although one noblewoman briefly neglected decorum by revealing her stockings and knees underneath her frock. The infraction did not escape notice of the host. "She is from Kansas," he noted, and asked the gathering to forgive said transgression.

I must admit, I would have reneged on a promise had it not been for the keen memory of His Lordship, who pointed out that Your Humble Servant had promised a lady a dance at a certain Christmas Party. I recalled the promise, but I was unsure of the lady whom I had honoured with said promise. With His Lordship's help, she was revealed, and I paid my debt with interest.

Inquiries persisted as to the identity of the spy. Even Her Majesty's Secret Service could not discern the impostor. Thus, a team of young Princesses banded together, and in their persistence, they unmasked the cunning one: a young Natasha, sent by personal directive of the czar. Gasps emanated from the assembled, and His Lordship wondered how such an deceptive lady could evade detection.

"Her beauty was so overwhelming, we were blind to her treachery!" I shouted.

Indeed, she displayed much charm and class, a pitiful waste of such gifts. But in the Realm Of The Merry, much is forgivable. His Lordship offered her a higher wage to embark on counterintelligence for Her Majesty, and a gentleman quickly offered her a dance. No gaol would hold her this evening, under edict of The Queen.

The Pineapple Dance raised our spirits once more with the Lords and Ladies of the Realm sashaying down the lines of eager dancers, hoping to take a partner's hand or be the last one to be passed the exotic and hospitable fruit.

"Are you enjoying yourself?" a lady asked me.

"Very much so," I answered with the Spirit Of The Dance enveloping me.

As much as I would delight in regaling you with more tales of dancing and grace, the time did eventually arrive for us to depart for our own kingdoms and times, but not without a waltz borrowed from another age.

I spotted a lady I had been wanting to dance with all evening sitting alone at the side of the room, and I bowed to her.

"Thank you for saving me the last dance," she said to me. We conversed through a two-step, and she put forth a question. "What was your favourite gift this Christmas?"

I puzzled at the answer, but not for long. In the Realm Of The Merry, and with the beautiful lady in my arms, I could not perceive anything material. Searching through my feelings, I spoke from my heart. "GOD has given me many gifts. HE has given me friends and joy such as this." I would leave no doubt of the Kingdom I called home.

Her Majesty's subjects speak! Their words here.

NEXT: Washington's Way