"So gorgeous was the spectacle on the May morning of 1910 when nine kings rode in the funeral of Edward II of England that the crowd, waiting in hushed and black-clad awe, could not keep back gasps of admiration. In scarlet and blue and green and purple, three by three the sovereigns rode through the palace gates, with plumed helmets, gold braid, crimson sashes, and jeweled orders flashing in the sun. After them came five heirs apparent, forty more imperial or royal highnesses, seven queens- four dowagers and three regnant-and a scattering of special ambassadors from uncrowned countries. Together they represented seventy nations in the greatest assemblage of royalty and rank ever gathered in one place and, of its kind, the last. The muffled tongue of Big Ben trolled nine by the clock as the cortege left the palace, but on history's clock it was sunset, and the sun of the old world was setting in a dying blaze of splendor never to be seen again."
I wonder how the world will change now. What sun is setting now. What will never be seen again. Within 50 years, the monarchies of five of the nine Kings of 1910 were ended. The new world was baptized in blood in 1914, and confirmed again in 1939. Since 1952 it's not exactly been peaches and cream, but it wasn't '14 to '45 either.