Wedding of a Starosta’s daughter—Politeness of the host—The
guests—The bride—Bridal etiquette—Description of the bride’s
dress—The bridegroom—The hospitality shown—The amusements of
the guests—Improvised songs—The bridegroom’s riches—Demeanour
of the company—Dance of the peasant women—Dance of the
men—National songs.
There was but little to vary the monotony of our life in Archangel,
as we had but few opportunities of seeing much of the Russians. In
the spring we decided upon paying a visit to Vologda, having received
an invitation to pass a few weeks at the house of the governor of the
province. In the midst of our busy preparations for the journey, the
Starosta or head man of a neighbouring village came to beg the honour
of our company at a festival which he proposed giving the next day to
celebrate his daughter’s marriage. We accepted the invitation, and the
following morning hired a boat to take us across the Dwina, for the
village was situated on the opposite bank at the distance of about eight
versts. We had no sooner landed than the bride’s father, the Starosta
himself, came out to welcome us, and to conduct us to his house. A great
number of people were assembled in front of it; they all seemed very
merry, and were gaily dressed in their best attire: we passed through
the crowd and followed our host, who ushered us with many profound bows
into the best apartment, where we found a numerous company already
arrived. There were at the least thirty women, all in their national
dress, seated in straight rows round the room; most of them had their
arms crossed, and remained almost motionless; their gaily coloured silks
and showy head-dresses had a very striking effect. The bride herself, a
pretty-looking girl of about seventeen, was seated at the upper end of
the room with the bridegroom at her right hand. A table, covered with
a white cloth and tastefully ornamented with festoons of artificial
flowers and bows of pink ribbon, was before them, on which was placed
the wedding-cake made of flour and honey, with almonds on the top;
several dishes of sweetmeats, preserves, and dried fruits were arranged
around it. It was, as I was told, the etiquette for the bride not to
speak even to the bridegroom; but we went up to her, and offered our
congratulations, which they both acknowledged by a graceful inclination.
The Starosta ordered chairs to be placed just opposite the table, and
begged us to be seated, so we had a good opportunity of examining and
admiring the bride’s dress. It was composed of a coiffure nearly a foot
high, somewhat resembling a brimless hat; it was of gold, enriched with
pearls and fastened on by a knot of gold tissue behind, which was edged
with lace; her ears were decorated with handsome rings, and round her
neck were innumerable rows of pearls. I expressed a doubt as to whether
they were real; but I was assured they were so, only they were defective
in form. Her casackan or jacket was of gold cloth, with a border of pearl
embroidery, the sleeves of cambric, short and very full, tied up with
blue ribbon and finished by a lace trimming; the skirt of her dress was
of crimson flowered silk, having a gold border nearly a foot deep, with
gold buttons up the front. This is the national costume, but it varies
in different provinces, and is not equally rich. But then the Starosta
was well to do; he was not only the head man of the village, but he had
shops of his own in Moscow and in St. Petersburg. I noticed that the
bride’s fingers were loaded with rings; indeed she seemed to have on all
the finery the whole family could muster. As for the bridegroom, he was a
good-looking young man of twenty-two or so, and very respectably dressed
in the costume of a shopkeeper, which consists of a long blue coat called
a caftan, closely buttoned up to the throat. We were presented with tea,
coffee, wine, bonbons, cakes, fruit, &c., in succession, all of which
we were expected to partake of, or the hosts would think themselves
slighted, and their hospitality insulted. The spoons I remarked were of
Tula work, and had the appearance of being of gold, but were in reality
of silver-gilt, with arabesque flowers all over them, which they say
are done with some kind of acid: I believe the secret is not known out
of Russia. All the Russian women assembled at this festival were of the
upper class of petty shopkeepers or farmers, and they were dressed in
the same costume as the bride, with perhaps fewer ornaments. During the
whole time we were in the room their amusement consisted in singing, one
after the other, in a low kind of chant, songs improvised in honour of
the occasion, all the rest of the company sitting silent and motionless
as statues. As soon as one had exhausted all her available talent on the
subject, another took it up and gave us her ideas upon it. According to
one, the bride was too young to be married: she wondered how her mother
could part with her, and thought she ought to have kept her at home for
a long time yet. Another seemed to think she was doing perfectly right
to marry her daughter, after bringing her up so prudently, and making
her so clever in household affairs. A third wished to settle the matter
entirely by praising the bridegroom; “he was so gay of heart, he loved
his bride so well.” His possessions, it appears, were worth having, and
enough to tempt a village-maid; for “he had plenty of cows, pigs, and
horses;” and as the climax to all these advantages of estates real and
personal, she assured us, “that he could take his wife to church in a
droshsky!” The whole of the guests remained quite silent, listening with
a serious face to the songs; there was no laughing or chatting; each
kept her seat and preserved such an intense gravity all the time, that
they evidently considered matrimony as no joke after all, and not in the
least amusing. Were I malicious, I would remark that they had every one
of them been married themselves. After we had remained a reasonable time
in the company of the young couple, we went outside to see the guests
assembled in the front of the house; there we found several women dancing
a wearisome kind of dance, if such it might be called, which consisted in
merely walking to and fro in pairs placed one behind the other in a long
line. They moved forwards and then backwards to a monotonous singsong
kind of air; on advancing, the first two changed places with the last
couple, and so on in succession. The amusement seemed to afford them
intense delight, and so fond are they of it that they keep it up for
hours together. On the opposite side of the yard the men were having a
ball amongst themselves; their performance was more entertaining, and
we laughed heartily at a comic pas de deux by a couple of young men,
who capered about in a very diverting manner. Another peasant danced a
solo in very good style. After the dancing the men sang us some national
airs; each took the hand or leant on the shoulder of his neighbour,
“in order to unite the tones,” as they said. We thanked them for their
entertainment, and re-entered the house to take our leave of the good
Starosta and his family, when we again expressed our wishes for their
happiness, but we were not allowed to depart until we had drunk their
health in a glass of champagne, a wine which the Russians give upon all
extraordinary occasions. As we were stepping into the boat the peasants
gave us a parting cheer, and far away, when the village was quite lost
to our view in the distance, we heard their wild voices still singing
in chorus their beautiful national airs in honour of the young Russian
bride.