That all of their succeeding days may say,
Each day appears like to a wedding day.
BRAITHWAITE.
Notwithstanding the doubts and demurs1 of Lady Lillycraft, and all the grave objections that were conjured2 up against the month of May, yet the Wedding has at length happily taken place. It was celebrated3 at the village church in presence of a numerous company of relatives and friends, and many of the tenantry. The squire4 must needs have something of the old ceremonies observed on the occasion; so at the gate of the churchyard, several little girls of the village, dressed in white, were in readiness with baskets of flowers, which they strewed5 before the bride; and the butler bore before her the bride-cup, a great silver embossed 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 ribands, according to ancient custom.
"Happy is the bride that the sun shines on," says the old proverb; and it was as sunny and auspicious6 a morning as heart could wish. The bride looked uncommonly7 beautiful; but, in fact, what woman does not look interesting on her wedding-day? I know no sight more charming and touching8 than that of a young and timid bride, in her robes of virgin9 white, led up trembling to the altar. When I thus behold10 a lovely girl, in the tenderness of her years, forsaking11 the house of her fathers and the home of her childhood, and, with the implicit12, confiding13, and the sweet self-abandonment which belong to woman, giving up all the world for the man of her choice; when I hear her, in the good old language of the ritual, yielding herself to him "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 and affecting self-devotion of Ruth:—"Whither thou goest I will go, and where thou lodgest I will lodge14; 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 overflowing15 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, awestruck at a marriage ceremony, which is generally considered as an occasion of festivity and rejoicing. As the ceremony was performing, I observed many a rosy17 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, she absolutely wept and sobbed18 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 agitated19 on the occasion, and, in attempting to put the ring upon the bride's finger, dropped it on the floor; which Lady Lillycraft has since assured me is a very lucky omen16. Even Master Simon had lost his usual vivacity21, 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 edified22 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 forth23 from restraint. Master Simon had a world of bachelor pleasantries to utter, and as to the gallant24 general, he bowed and cooed about the dulcet25 Lady Lillycraft, like a mighty26 cock pigeon about his dame27.
The Wedding
The villagers gathered in the churchyard to cheer the happy couple as they left the church; and the musical tailor had marshalled his band, and set up a hideous28 discord29, 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 rung a merry peal30 that set all the crows and rooks flying and cawing about the air, and threatened to bring down the battlements of the old tower; and there was a continual popping off of rusty31 firelocks from every part of the neighbourhood.
The prodigal32 son distinguished33 himself on the occasion, having hoisted34 a flag on the top of the school-house, and kept the village in a hubbub35 from sunrise with the sound of drum, and fife, and pandean pipe; in which species of music several of his scholars are making wonderful proficiency36. In his great zeal37, however, he had nearly done mischief38; for, on returning from church, 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 artillery39 in front of the school-house, to give the captain a military salute40 as he passed.
Rural Artillery
The day passed off with great rustic41 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 Jack42 presided at one of the tables, and became so full of good cheer, as to unbend from his usual gravity, to sing a song out of all tune43, and give two or three shouts of laughter, that almost electrified44 his neighbours, like so many peals45 of thunder. The schoolmaster and the apothecary46 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 faun and dryad from the park. Even old Christy, who had got on a new dress, from top to toe, and shone in all the splendour of bright leather breeches, and an enormous wedding favour in his cap, forgot his usual crustiness, became inspired by wine and wassail, and absolutely danced a hornpipe on one of the tables, with all the grace and agility47 of a mannikin hung upon wires.
Equal gaiety reigned48 within doors, where a large party of friends were entertained. Every one laughed at his own pleasantry, without attending to that of his neighbours. Loads of bride-cake were distributed. The young ladies were all busy in passing morsels49 of it 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 gadding50, for a week at least.
After dinner all the company, great and small, gentle and simple, abandoned themselves to the dance: not the modern quadrille, with its graceful51 gravity, but the merry, social, old country dance; the true dance, as the squire says, for a wedding occasion; as it sets all the world jigging52 in couples; hand in hand, and makes every eye and every heart dance merrily to the music. According to frank old usage, the gentlefolks of the Hall mingled53, for a time, in the dance of the peasantry, who had a great tent erected54 for a ball-room; and I think I never saw Master Simon more in his element than when figuring about among his rustic admirers, as master of the ceremonies; and, with a mingled air of protection and gallantry, leading out the quondam Queen of May—all blushing at the signal honour conferred upon her.
Master Simon Opens the Ball
In the evening, the whole village was illuminated55, excepting the house of the radical56, who has not shown his face during the rejoicings. There was a display of fireworks at the school-house, got up by the prodigal son, which had wellnigh set fire to the building. The squire is so much pleased with the extraordinary services of this last-mentioned worthy57, that he talks of enrolling58 him in his list of valuable retainers, and promoting him to some important post on the estate; peradventure to be falconer, if the hawks
Join or Log In!
You need to log in to continue reading
