OF MY WEDDING, AND MY GETTING “SETTLED.”
“I wore my bridal robe,
And I rivalled its whiteness;
Bright gems were in my hair;
How I hated their brightness!”
“WE MET.”--HAYNES BAYLY.
The morrow came, and any one who could have beheld my downcast looks,
and heard the sighs that came from the very bottom of my heart, would
little have fancied that I was so near that interesting period of a
maiden existence, which is erroneously styled the happiest moment of her
life.
My mamma was good enough to say that my bridal robe fitted me admirably;
remarking that, perhaps, it would have looked richer had the skirt been
a trifle more full. Edward had presented me with a splendid
Nottingham-lace veil to throw over my head on this occasion, and a
superb “Berthe” to match. But in my then state of mind, I looked upon
these articles as gaudy nothings, attaching a value to them merely as
being the gifts of my bosom’s lord.
My mamma tried in vain to console me. She told me that I had nothing to
fear about entering into life, and begged of me to summon up all my
inward woman, to give me strength to go through with it. Had she not,
she asked me, prevailed upon Edward to leave his old dwelling, and take
a pretty little cottage for me in P--rk V--ll--ge, R--g--nt’s P--rk, so
that she might always be near to me and him. And she assured me, in a
gentle way, that I need not be alarmed, on account of my youthful
inexperience, as she would make it a duty to superintend all my domestic
arrangements until I got in the way of managing them myself; which, with
my natural abilities, she fondly said, would not take me long. And she
further told me that, as a start in life, she had a little surprise for
me; for she had determined, that in addition to some of her best pickles
and preserves, with which she intended to stock my store-room, before my
return from the honeymoon, she purposed presenting me with two bottles
of her celebrated cherry brandy, which she declared she would not have
parted with to any one but her own flesh and blood--although her friends
were always welcome to come and taste it whenever they pleased--that she
alone knew the true way of making it--and that she was determined the
secret should die with her. And, moreover, she said, that as, after the
advice she had given me over-night, I could easily perceive how
necessary it was for a young wife to have proper people about her, she
would kindly relieve me of any anxiety I might feel in suiting myself
with my first servant, by finding me, during my short absence from town,
such a one as she, from her knowledge of these matters, would answer for
proving quite a treasure. I thanked her with only a sorry smile, being
at such a time unable to appreciate her goodness, for my thoughts were
far--far away.
At a little after 10, the two Misses B--yl--s, whom I had selected for
my bridemaids, and who are carriage people, drove up to the door in
their papa’s sweet little pony phaeton. Having taken off their cloaks,
and changed their bonnets for the white chip ones they had brought with
them in a band-box, they looked truly charming; for they are dear, good,
showy girls, and were dressed in some elegant robes of book muslin,
trimmed with peach-blossom, and carry themselves divinely.
When Edward arrived, I thought I never saw him look better. His hair had
been beautifully curled, and he wore the blue coat, and the white
trousers of plighted affection; and when he presented me with a charming
bouquet, for the first time in my life, I felt the language of flowers.
My father had bespoken two handsome carriages for the festive day; and
when we arrived at the church, I really thought, as we moved in
procession along the pews, that my limbs would have given way under me,
and that I should have dropped in the aisle.
Of the imposing marriage ceremony I recollect little or nothing. It was
all a vague, misty dream to me. I was slightly conscious of a ring being
put upon the third finger of my left hand, and of saying, quite
mechanically, in a voice full of emotion, once or twice, “I will,”
though I was so overcome with a sense of the step I was taking, that I
had no knowledge at the time of what I was responding to. Edward, as my
mother afterwards told me, bore it very well, and quite like a man. I
was delighted to learn that he was observed to pay great attention to
the service, and seemed to be fully aware of what he was undertaking, in
so solemn a manner, to do towards me.
When we returned to my papa’s Halls to breakfast, I was a tender and
affectionate wife, so that when old Mr. B--yl--s said, “Mrs.
Sk--n--st--n, will you allow me the pleasure of a glass of wine with
you?” and I remembered that _that_ was now _my_ name, it came upon me as
if some one had just fired a pistol off in my ears.
The breakfast was a sumptuous repast, and included every delicacy of the
season; but I remember, I was so affected, that I could only touch part
of the wing of a chicken, one jelly, some lobster salad, a custard, and
some wedding-cake, which was a very expensive and rich one, being one of
the very best that Partrington could make.
After my papa had proposed “bumpers, and all the honours,” and essayed a
speech, which he could not proceed with for his emotion, poor man--but
which we all knew was intended to call down a blessing on myself, and
(to use his own touching words) “the man who had robbed him of
me”--Edward returned thanks in a beautiful speech, which he had read to
me the day preceding. It was full of lovely quotations from our very
best poets, and was intended to solace my poor papa and mamma for the
loss of me, by assuring them that he would consider nothing on earth too
good for me, and would gladly part with his last sixpence to make me
happy.
Previous to leaving town that afternoon, we had some capital fun with
passing some of my wedding-cake through my ring, for that sweet girl,
Em--ly B--yl--s, and her angelic sister, to sleep upon.
While I changed my bridal robe, I requested my weeping mother to take
care and see that a large piece of my wedding-cake was sent round to
each of the better class of our friends whom we wished to have the
pleasure of visiting, and to whom I had previously addressed cards and
“At-homes” for that day month. And then taking a last fond look at my
papa’s Halls, I was led, blushing, to the carriage by dear Edward, and
we were soon on the road for Brighton, having torn ourselves away from
my affectionate mamma, who gave us her blessing and some sandwiches.
I will pass over the happy moments of the first fortnight of my
honeymoon. We took apartments in Rottendean, near Brighton, so that we
might be able to enjoy the beauty and fashion of the town, with all the
quietude of the village. Here it was that Edward cemented the love he
had now built up in my heart, by the present of a work-box, with a
charmingly-done picture of the extremely elegant Pavilion on the lid.
Well do I remember that precious time, when, arm-in-arm, we would
wander, for whole hours together, in our buff slippers, along the golden
sands, talking (alas! blind mortals) of the happiness which we thought
was never to end. All was beautiful and bright, and seemed to us both
like a fairy dream, until the second Saturday after we had been there;
when I received a long letter from my beloved mamma, informing me that
she had not forgotten her dear Caroline; and that at last, after seeing,
she should say, forty servants, she had succeeded in finding the
treasure she had been seeking for me--that she had arranged to give her
£10 a year, and find her own tea and sugar, as she was just the
respectable middle-aged woman that she should like to place with her
pet, and had a ten years’ excellent character from her last situation,
which had been with a clergyman in the country. She was cleanly, even
tempered, an early riser, a good plain cook, and a devout Christian; she
was honest, industrious, and sober; in fact, she had just taken the
pledge--although, indeed, before that, she had always had a natural
aversion to spirits of all kinds--that she had arranged to have the maid
in my house about four days before our leaving Brighton, so that she
might have it all clean, comfortable, and tidy for us against our return
to town; and my dear mamma concluded her affectionate epistle by praying
in her heart that her poor, dear girl might find the woman the
inestimable blessing that she confidently expected and devoutly wished
her to prove to me. (But more of this hereafter.)
I had read my dear mamma’s epistle to my husband, and he remarked that
he was sure it was very kind of her--very kind of her, indeed, he
said--to put herself to so much trouble on our behalf. Though he hurt my
feelings by adding, that he thought it might contribute more to my
happiness hereafter if she were to be restrained from taking quite so
active an interest in our domestic affairs for the future; for, during
all his experience, he had remarked that relations by marriage agreed
much better the less they saw of one another. Not that he wanted
altogether to estrange me from my family--Heaven forbid! he said; but he
wished his darling angel (that is, myself) to undertake the management
of his establishment herself--although he could not help allowing that
my dear mamma was an excellent woman, and meant very well.
This cut me to the heart; for I had strange, melancholy forebodings of
dissensions in store for us, of which I feared the over-anxiety of my
dear mamma would be the cause.
After three weeks of continued happiness, we left the shores of honest
Rottendean, and returned to hollow-hearted London, and I felt satisfied
that my husband would no longer be displeased with dear mamma’s fond
care, when he found what a treasure of a maid she had procured for us.
* * * * *
_Moral reflection after writing the above._--“Laws were made,” my Edward
says, “to protect people’s property;” but my opinion is, that they were
made for nothing of the kind; or, if they were, that those who made them
knew nothing at all about their business; or else I’m sure there
wouldn’t be half the picking and stealing that there is going on every
day in the lodging-houses at the sea-side. For the way in which we were
robbed right and left, where we lived at Brighton (or at Rottendean,
which is the same thing), and the hole that _that_ story-telling old
landlady of ours used to make in our cold meat, was enough to turn a
right-minded woman like myself crazy. I’m sure we must have been keeping
the whole family, we must; for they not only couldn’t keep their fingers
off our meat, but they went dipping them into our tea-caddy, and
candle-box, and sugar-basin, so that one need have had a purse a mile
long to have paid one’s way with any credit to oneself. I declare it was
enough to drive any well-disposed body away from the place; and I can
only say, that from all I’ve seen and suffered myself there, I can well
understand King George the Fourth (who was a perfect gentleman) turning
his nose up at the people, and vowing that he’d have nothing more to do
with the scurvy set.