The first formal Carnival parade in New Orleans was presented to the city by the Mistick Krewe of Comus on Mardi Gras night in 1857. It's described in these excerpts from Perry Young's book, The Mistick Krewe.

"At 9 o'clock, or thereabout, the glare of torchlights shattered the darkness of Magazine and Julia Streets, bands burst into symphony, and the Mistick Krewe stood revealed - a company of demons, rich and realistic, moving in a procession that seemed to blaze from some secret chamber of the Earth. 'They came!' said the Daily Crescent. 'Led by the festive Comus, high on his royal seat, and 'Satan high on a hill, far blazing as a mount, with pyramids and towers from diamond quarries hewn, and rocks of gold; the palace of great Lucifer,' followed by devils large and devils small, devils with horns and devils with tails, and devils without.' The Demon Actors in Milton's Paradise Lost. The first torchlight scenic procession of New Orleans, a revolution in street pageantry, a revelation in artistic effects.

"After going through the principal streets, the Krewe entered the Gaiety Theatre - the most elegant theater in the United States, as, perhaps with reason, it described itself - by the rear alley on Common Street, and in due time appeared on stage. 'The parquette had been floored even with the stage for the tableaux of the Mistick Krewe and the ball that was to follow. In a short time after the doors were thrown open, all of the space inside, apart from the filler and stage, was jammed with an audience composed of the elite of Louisiana and the adjacent states - none being in mask but the Krewe, but the fashionable and costly costumes of the ladies adding much to the brilliancy of the scene.'

"Four tableaux were given. After the fourth curtain there was a brief interval of music by Mr. Meyer's orchestra, as between each of the tableaux, and a fifth scene then disclosed the stage entirely cleared and brightly illuminated. At the back was a great arch of gas jets, displaying in letters of fire the words, 'Vive la Danse!' The Mistick Krewe filed in and marched several times around the great floor which extended over the entire parquette, and the signal was given for the dance. The 'very gentlemanly and agreeable devils' chose their partners for a few dance numbers, and on the stroke of twelve the Captain's whistle sounded and they disappeared.

"The first appearance of the Krewe was not forgotten with Ash Wednesday. The spectacle had been so brilliant, so spectacular, and so precise in its mysteries and dignity, that it inspired an insatiable curiosity as to what the next year might hold in store. There was a new spirit in Carnival, a spirit that would dwell in the hearts of New Orleans for a twelve-month, and then again for another. The Krewe were jubilant. Whatever enjoyment they had brought to the public, to their families and friends, had been returned tenfold in pleasure for themselves. And, however much they had enjoyed the night of triumph - the applause of thousands under the glare of their torches, the puzzled admiration of the bewildered wives and sweethearts at the ball, and the garish revelries of the early morn - the enjoyment after the event was even greater. For they found themselves the secret, hidden envy of the entire city. Hugging their mysteries all the closer, they entered forthwith on plans for another year - began the perennial carnival of the heart for which pageants and masquerades are only an expression."

For renderings of two classic Comus parades, click HERE.