***********************************************
The Ouachita Telegraph
Friday, April 3, 1874
Page 1, Column 4
A GRIM SEQUEL.
The gay exercises of the carnival at New Orleans were followed by a tragical incident.
The veritable "Rex" himself, in all the trappings of mock royalty, and the paraphernalia of mimic state, left the Mardi Gras ball-room on the morning of the 18th and returned to his residence. About 8 o'clock the same morning a member of his family entered the sleeping apartment of the masquerader, and found that a greater king than the discrowned "Rex" had invaded the chamber before, and asserted his sway over its tenant.
Apoplexy had done its work in the night. The king was dead.
The real name of the Rex of the carnival was Col. A.W. Merriam. He was the proprietor of the largest billiard saloon in the world, and seems to have been held in much esteem, as his funeral was a magnificent pageant. His end was sudden and sad, especially when contrasted with the splendid ephemeral glories of the day just preceding in which so much of authority had been yielded to him. So end all the pageants, so passes all the power, which may be enjoyed in this world of brief
transit and of empty figures. The poor king of the carnival, like the proudest Emperor clothed with real power, treads the same way marked for
all the sons of humanity towards the common refuge of the grave. But the incident of Rex's death is pregnant with a solemn lesson which
should not be lost on those who having ears, should hear the warnings, and having eyes should see the examples, with which Providence reminds
them that they too are of clay, and are doomed to return to the earth, their mother, for the deep and dreamless slumber of the dead; and that,
after death comes the judgment. —
The Ouachita Telegraph
Friday, April 3, 1874
Page 1, Column 4
A GRIM SEQUEL.
The gay exercises of the carnival at New Orleans were followed by a tragical incident.
The veritable "Rex" himself, in all the trappings of mock royalty, and the paraphernalia of mimic state, left the Mardi Gras ball-room on the morning of the 18th and returned to his residence. About 8 o'clock the same morning a member of his family entered the sleeping apartment of the masquerader, and found that a greater king than the discrowned "Rex" had invaded the chamber before, and asserted his sway over its tenant.
Apoplexy had done its work in the night. The king was dead.
The real name of the Rex of the carnival was Col. A.W. Merriam. He was the proprietor of the largest billiard saloon in the world, and seems to have been held in much esteem, as his funeral was a magnificent pageant. His end was sudden and sad, especially when contrasted with the splendid ephemeral glories of the day just preceding in which so much of authority had been yielded to him. So end all the pageants, so passes all the power, which may be enjoyed in this world of brief
transit and of empty figures. The poor king of the carnival, like the proudest Emperor clothed with real power, treads the same way marked for
all the sons of humanity towards the common refuge of the grave. But the incident of Rex's death is pregnant with a solemn lesson which
should not be lost on those who having ears, should hear the warnings, and having eyes should see the examples, with which Providence reminds
them that they too are of clay, and are doomed to return to the earth, their mother, for the deep and dreamless slumber of the dead; and that,
after death comes the judgment. —
***********************************************
The Ouachita Telegraph
Friday, April 3, 1874
Page 1, Column 4
A GRIM SEQUEL.
The gay exercises of the carnival at New Orleans were followed by a tragical incident.
The veritable "Rex" himself, in all the trappings of mock royalty, and the paraphernalia of mimic state, left the Mardi Gras ball-room on the morning of the 18th and returned to his residence. About 8 o'clock the same morning a member of his family entered the sleeping apartment of the masquerader, and found that a greater king than the discrowned "Rex" had invaded the chamber before, and asserted his sway over its tenant.
Apoplexy had done its work in the night. The king was dead.
The real name of the Rex of the carnival was Col. A.W. Merriam. He was the proprietor of the largest billiard saloon in the world, and seems to have been held in much esteem, as his funeral was a magnificent pageant. His end was sudden and sad, especially when contrasted with the splendid ephemeral glories of the day just preceding in which so much of authority had been yielded to him. So end all the pageants, so passes all the power, which may be enjoyed in this world of brief
transit and of empty figures. The poor king of the carnival, like the proudest Emperor clothed with real power, treads the same way marked for
all the sons of humanity towards the common refuge of the grave. But the incident of Rex's death is pregnant with a solemn lesson which
should not be lost on those who having ears, should hear the warnings, and having eyes should see the examples, with which Providence reminds
them that they too are of clay, and are doomed to return to the earth, their mother, for the deep and dreamless slumber of the dead; and that,
after death comes the judgment. —
The Ouachita Telegraph
Friday, April 3, 1874
Page 1, Column 4
A GRIM SEQUEL.
The gay exercises of the carnival at New Orleans were followed by a tragical incident.
The veritable "Rex" himself, in all the trappings of mock royalty, and the paraphernalia of mimic state, left the Mardi Gras ball-room on the morning of the 18th and returned to his residence. About 8 o'clock the same morning a member of his family entered the sleeping apartment of the masquerader, and found that a greater king than the discrowned "Rex" had invaded the chamber before, and asserted his sway over its tenant.
Apoplexy had done its work in the night. The king was dead.
The real name of the Rex of the carnival was Col. A.W. Merriam. He was the proprietor of the largest billiard saloon in the world, and seems to have been held in much esteem, as his funeral was a magnificent pageant. His end was sudden and sad, especially when contrasted with the splendid ephemeral glories of the day just preceding in which so much of authority had been yielded to him. So end all the pageants, so passes all the power, which may be enjoyed in this world of brief
transit and of empty figures. The poor king of the carnival, like the proudest Emperor clothed with real power, treads the same way marked for
all the sons of humanity towards the common refuge of the grave. But the incident of Rex's death is pregnant with a solemn lesson which
should not be lost on those who having ears, should hear the warnings, and having eyes should see the examples, with which Providence reminds
them that they too are of clay, and are doomed to return to the earth, their mother, for the deep and dreamless slumber of the dead; and that,
after death comes the judgment. —
Advertisement
Advertisement
