University of Virginia Library

THE WEDDING.

Braithwaite.

The fair Julia having recovered from the
effects of her fall, the day for the wedding was
at length appointed. As it drew near, there rose
several doubts and conversations between Lady
Lillycraft, Master Simon, and the parson, on the
subject of marrying in the month of May;
against which I find there is an ancient prejudice,
as being an unfortunate month for matrimony.
From the discussions that took place
on these occasions, I picked up much valuable
information relative to weddings. Such as, that
if there were two celebrated in the same church,

on the same day, the first would be happy, the
second otherwise. If, in going to church, they
should meet the funeral of a female, the bride
would die first; if of a male, the bridegroom.
If the new married couple were to dance together
on their wedding day, the wife would
thenceforth rule the roast; with many more curious
facts of the same kind; which made me
ponder, more than ever, upon the perils which
surround this happy state; and how little men
know the awful risks they run in venturing upon
it. I abstain, however, from enlarging on this
topic, as I have no wish to promote the increase
of bachelors.

The Squire, however, though he gave due
weight to all these ancient saws, yet had a host
of poetical authorities in favour of this loving
month, which I suppose were conclusive with
the young couple, as I found they were perfectly
willing to marry in May, and abide the consequences.

The wedding has accordingly taken place at
the village church, in presence of a numerous

company of relations and friends, and many of
the tenantry. The Squire must needs have
something of the old ceremonies observed on the
occasion; so, at the gate of the church-yard,
several little girls of the village, dressed in white,
were in readiness with baskets of flowers, which
they strewed before the bride, and the butler
bore before her the bride cup, a great embossed
silver bowl, one of the family reliques from the
days of the hard drinkers. This was filled with
rich wine, and decorated with a branch of rosemary
tied with gay ribbands, according to ancient
custom.

“Happy is the bride that the sun shines on,”
says the old proverb; and it was as sunny and
auspicious a morning as heart could wish. The
bride looked uncommonly beautiful; but in
fact what woman does not look interesting on her
wedding day? There is something extremely
touching in the appearance of a young and timid
bride, in her robes of virgin white, led up trembling
to the altar; when thus I behold a lovely
girl, in the tenderness of her years, forsaking her

father's house and the home of her childhood,
and giving herself up with implicit confiding to
the man of her choice, in the good old language
of the ceremony, “for better for worse, for
richer for poorer, in sickness and in health, to
love, honour, and obey, till death us do part.”
It brings to my mind the beautiful self devotion
of Ruth, “whither thou goest I will go, and
where thou lodgest I will lodge; thy people shall
be my people, and thy god my god.”

The fair Julia was supported on the trying
occasion by Lady Lillycraft, whose heart was
overflowing with its wonted sympathy in all
matters of love and matrimony. As the bride
approached the altar, her face would be one moment
covered with blushes, and the next deadly
pale, and she seemed almost ready to shrink from
sight among her female companions. I do not
know what it is that makes every one serious
and, as it were, awe struck, at a marriage ceremony;
which is generally considered as an occasion
of festivity and rejoicing. As the ceremony
was performing, I observed many a rosy

face among the country girls turn pale, and I
did not see a smile throughout the church. The
young ladies from the Hall were almost as much
frightened as if it had been their own case, and
stole many a look of sympathy at their trembling
companion. A tear stood in the eye of the sensitive
Lady Lillycraft; and as to Phoebe Wilkins,
who was present, the soft hearted baggage absolutely
wept and sobbed aloud; but it is hard to
tell, half the time, what these fond foolish creatures
are crying about.

The captain, too, though naturally gay and
unconcerned, was much agitated on the occasion,
and in attempting to put the ring upon the
bride's finger, dropped it on the floor, which I am
since told is a very lucky omen. Even Master
Simon had lost his usual vivacity, and had assumed
a most whimsically solemn face, which
he is apt to do on all occasions of ceremony.
He had much whispering with the parson and
parish clerk, for he is always a busy personage
in the scene; and he echoed the clerk's amen
with a solemnity and devotion that edified the
whole assemblage.

The moment, however, that the ceremony
was over, the transition was magical. The
bride cup was passed round, according to ancient
usage, for the company to drink to a
happy union; every one's feelings seemed to
break forth from restraint; Master Simon had a
world of bachelor pleasantries to utter; and
as to the gallant general, he bowed and cooed
about the dulcet Lady Lillycraft like a mighty
cock pigeon about his dame.

The villagers gathered in the church-yard to
cheer the happy couple as they left the church,
and the musical tailor had marshalled his band,
and set up a hideous discord, as the blushing
and smiling bride passed through a lane of honest
peasantry to her carriage. The children
shouted and threw up their hats; the bells rang
a merry peal that threatened to bring down the
battlements of the old tower, and set all the
crows and rooks flying and cawing about the
air; and there was a continual popping off of
rusty firelocks from every part of the neighbourhood.

The prodigal son distinguished himself on
the occasion; but had nearly done mischief; as
the horses of the bride's carriage took fright
from the discharge of a row of old gun barrels
which he had mounted as a park of artillery in
front of the school house, to give the captain a
military salute as he passed.

The day passed off with great rustic rejoicings.
Tables were spread under the trees in
the park, where all the peasantry of the neighbourhood
were regaled with roast beef and
plum pudding, and oceans of ale. Ready Money
Jack presided at one of the tables, and became
so full of good cheer, as to unbend from
his usual gravity, sing a song out of all tune,
and give two or three shouts of laughter that
almost electrified his neighbours like so many
peals of thunder. Slingsby, the school-master,
and the apothecary, vied with each
other in making speeches over their liquor, and
there were occasional glees and musical performances
by the village band that must have

frightened every fawn and dryad from the
park.

Old Christy, even, was warmed into a flow on
the occasion. He appeared newly equipped
from top to toe; with bright leather breeches,
and a great wedding favour flaunting in his
jockey cap. The old man drank health and
happiness to the young couple at least a dozen
times; and ended by dancing a hornpipe on
one of the ables, to the great astonishment of
the whole world.

Equal gayety reigned within doors, where a
large party of friends were entertained. Every
one laughed at his own pleasantry without attending
to that of his neighbour's. The bride
cup was carried about according to ancient form,
and loads of bride cake distributed. The young
ladies were all busy in passing morsels of cake
through the wedding ring, to dream on; and I
myself assisted a fine little boarding school girl
in putting up a quantity for her companions,
which I have no doubt will set all the little
heads in the school gadding, for a week to come.

In the evening we were entertained by a display
of fire-works got up by the schoolmaster
and apothecary with the assistance of the prodigal
son; whom the Squire talks of making his
gamekeeper, by way of reward for his extraordinary
services. The village also was generally
illuminated, excepting the house of the radical,
who has not shown his face during the rejoicings.

One wedding makes many, says an old proverb,
and I should not be surprised if it holds
good in the present instance. I have seen several
flirtations among the young people that have
been brought together on this occasion. Master
Simon, however, has told me in great confidence,
that he thinks the old general's case is
desperate with Lady Lillycraft; she having determined
that he is quite destitute of sentiment.

It is with some concern, therefore, that I have
seen him throwing away tender glances upon
her at the wedding dinner, during the changing
of the dishes.

I am told, moreover, that young Jack Tibbets

was so touched by the wedding ceremony,
at which he was present, and captivated by the
sensibility of poor Phoebe Wilkins, that he had
a reconcilation with her that very day after dinner,
in one of the groves of the park, and danced
with her at the village in the evening, to the
complete confusion of old Dame Tibbets'
domestic politics.

What is more, Lady Lillycraft, who with her
usual benevolence in all concerns of the heart,
had lately taken an interest in this love affair,
on hearing of the reconciliation of the lovers,
undertook the critical task of breaking the matter
to Ready Money Jack. She thought there
was no time like the present, and attacked the
sturdy old yeoman that very evening in the park,
while his heart was yet lifted up with the Squire's
good cheer. Jack was a little surprised at being
drawn aside by her ladyship, but was not to be
flurried by such an honour; he was still more
surprised by the nature of her communication;
and this first intelligence of an affair that had
been passing under his eye. He listened, however,

with his usual gravity, as her ladyship represented
the advantages of the match, the good
qualities of the girl, and the distress which all
parties had lately suffered; at length his eye began
to kindle, and his hand to play with the
head of his cudgel. Lady Lillycraft saw that
something in the narrative had gone wrong,
and hastened to mollify his rising ire, by reiterating
the soft hearted Phoebe's merit and
fidelity, and her great unhappiness; when old
Ready Money suddenly interrupted her by
exclaiming, that “if Jack did not marry the
wench, he'd break every bone in his body!”
The match, therefore, is considered a settled
thing; Dame Tibbets and the housekeeper have
made friends and drank tea together, and Phoebe
has again recovered her good looks and good
spirits, and is caroling from morning till night
like a lark.

But the most whimsical caprice of Cupid is
one that I should be almost afraid to mention,
did I not know that I was writing for readers
well experienced in the waywardness of this

most mischievous deity. The morning after
the wedding, therefore, while Lady Lillycraft
was making preparations for her departure, an
audience was requested by her immaculate hand-maid,
Mrs. Hannah, who, with much primming
of the mouth, and many maidenly hesitations,
requested leave to stay behind, and that Lady
Lillycraft would supply her place with some
other servant. Her ladyship was thunderstruck:
“What, Hannah going to quit her that had lived
with her so long!”

“Why, one could not help it; one must settle
in life some time or other.”

The good lady was still lost in amazement;
at length the secret was gasped from the dry
lips of the maiden gentlewoman; she “had been
some time thinking of changing her condition,
and at length had given her word last evening
to Mr. Christy, the huntsman!”

How, or when, or where, this singular courtship
had been carried on, I have not been able to
learn; or how she has been able, with the vinegar
of her disposition, to soften the stony heart

of old Nimrod. So, however, it is, and it has
astonished every one. With all her ladyship's
love of match making, this last fume of Hymen's
torch has been too much for her. She
has endeavoured to reason with Mrs. Hannah,
but all in vain; her mind was made up, and she
grew tart on the least contradiction. Lady Lillycraft
applied to the Squire for his interference:
“She did not know what she should do without
Mrs. Hannah, she had been used to have her
about her so long a time.”

The Squire, on the contrary, rejoiced in the
match, as relieving the good lady from a kind of
toilette tyrant, under whose sway she had suffered
for years. Instead of thwarting the affair,
therefore, he has given it his full countenance,
and declares, that he will set up the young
couple in one of the best cottages on his estate.

The approbation of the Squire has been followed
by that of the whole household; they all
declare, that if ever matches are really made in
Heaven, this must have been; for that old
Christy and Mrs. Hannah were as cordially

formed to be linked together as ever were pepper
box and vinegar cruet.

As soon as this matter was arranged, Lady
Lillycraft took her leave of the family at the
Hall, taking with her the captain and his blushing
bride, who are to pass the honey-moon with
her. Master Simon accompanied them on
horseback, and indeed means to ride on a-head
to make preparations. The general, who was
fishing in vain for an invitation to her seat,
handed her ladyship into her carriage with a
heavy sigh; upon which his bosom friend, Master
Simon, who was just mounting his horse,
gave me a knowing wink, made an abominably
wry face, and leaning from his saddle whispered
loudly in my ear, “It wont do!” Then putting
spurs to his horse, away he cantered off.
The general stood for some time waving his
hat after the carriage as it rolled down the
avenue, until he was seized with a fit of sneezing
from exposing his head to the cool breeze.

The company have now almost all taken
their departure. I have determined to do the

same to-morrow morning, and I hope my reader
may not think that I have already lingered too
long at the Hall. I have been tempted to do so,
however, because I thought I had lit upon one
of the retired places where there are yet some
traces to be met with of old English character.

A little while hence, and all these will have
passed away.

Ready money Jack will sleep with his fathers
The good Squire and all his peculiarities
will be buried in the parish church. The old
Hall will be modernized into a fashionable
country seat, or peradventure a manufactory.
The park will be cut up into kitchen gardens.
A daily coach will run through the village, and
it will become like all other commonplace villages,
thronged with coachmen, post-boys, tipplers
and politicians; and Christmas, May-day,
and all their hearty merry-makings will be
forgotten!