GUILDHALL SPLENDOUR.

Hokitika Guardian, 14 January 1928, Page 1

GUILDHALL SPLENDOUR.

LONDON, Nov. 20. Centuries invoked by tbe spirit of the past answer the roll call when the trumpets sound at the Lord Mayor’s banquet in tbe Guildhall as they did last night. The City of London is calling through the ages, and great memories crowd the old hall filled with the great living. In this pageant of personalities, this animated “W lio’s Who,” there seems to walk ghosts of the great deed, for the Lord Mayor’s banquet is more than a feast; it is ritual wherein is honoured' the treasured custom of tradition. “As we have done so shall we do.” Splendour and dignity grace the ■Guildhall feast. Famous men for once in a while are permitted to lie distinguished above their fellows in the honour of merited decorations and the grandeur of distinctive uniforms. For once in a while beautiful women have to give place to distinguished men in tho splendour of clothes. And what a difference clothes do make to the man ! Suits of velvet and robes oT scarlet, jewelled orders and gem-hilted swords, noble orders and glittering decorations —all the glory of the picturesque past gallantly borne by "Famous men of today. The Lord Mayor's banquet is a man’s show. For once the women, outdazzlecl, are content to play a subdued if appreciative part. Entering the library of the Guildhall at the great reception is like walking down the corridors of time;

past pikemon in armour officered by gay cavaliers. It is a living romance. As great names arc chanted and echoed one sees famous men not as ordinary men familiarised in caricature and photograph, but as heroes of romance. THE NEW LORD MAYOR. Sir Charles Batho, the new Lord Mayor, in bis gorgeous black and gold robes of office, looked a lord mayor of the old pictures. Behind him and the Lady Mayoress stood beautiful maids of honour dressed in shimmery white and carrying bouquets like princesses out of a fairv tale.

And Ministers of State, generals, admirals, ambassadors, diplomatists, judges, seemed wise and magnificent, because for once they were allowed to look their parts.

Air Baldwin, flic Prime Minister, Sir Austen Chamberlain, the Foreign .Secretary, Mr Winston Churchill, the Chancellor of the Exchequer, Sir ‘William Joynson-Hicks, the Home Scere. tarv, might have stopped out of a mediaeval painting. The City of London is jealous of its privileges and proud of its ceremonies, and the dignity and splendour of this old-time banquet is unrivalled in conteinjiorary history. Cheers there were for everybody of nolo, but nobody was cheered more heartily than tbe retiring. Lord Mayor. Sir G. Rowland Blades, who bad a princely reception from the glittering throng.

Of the banquet itself with its famous turtle soup, its traditional loving eup, and its old-time servings of cold beef and boiled bam Carried by high priests in pulpits, and introduced into tho elaborate menu, of the choice wines and old brandies, it need only he said that, custom was fully honoured.

Dick Whittington himselt would not have felt strange at last night’s banquet, for the City of London cherishes its past, even as its builds for its future.