Even when the dulcimer, that primitive three-stringed instrument, could
not be had, mountain folk in the raggeds of Old Virginia were not at a
loss for music with which to make merry at the infare wedding. They
stepped the tune to the singing of a ballad, nor did they tire though
the infare wedding lasted all of three days and nights. It began right
after the wedding ceremony itself had been spoken--at the bride's home,
you may be sure.
How happy the young couple were as they stood before the elder, the
groom with his waiter at his side, and the bride with her waiter beside
her. Careful they were too that they stood the way the floor logs were
running. Thoughtless couples who had stood contrary to the cracks in the
floor had been known to be followed by ill luck.
When the elder had spoken the word which made them one, the bride with
her waiter hurried out to another room, if there was such, if not she
climbed the wall ladder to the loft and there in the low-roofed bedroom
she changed her wedding frock for her infare dress--the second day
dress. In early times it was of linsey-woolsey, woven by her own hands,
and dyed with homemade dyes, while her wedding frock had been of snowy
white linsey-woolsey.
And what a feast _her_ folks had prepared for the occasion. Cakes and
pies, stewed pumpkin that had been dried in rings before the fireplace,
venison, and wild honey.
While the bride was changing to her infare dress, older hands quickly
took down the bedsteads, tied up the flock ticks and shuck ticks in
coverlids and quilts, shoved them back into the corners so as to make
room for the frolic and dancing.
If the bride's granny lived it was her privilege to lead off in the
singing, which she did in a high querulous voice while the young folks,
the boys on one side, the girls on the other, faced each other and to
soft handclapping and lightly tapping toe sang:
There lived an old Lord by the Northern sea,
Bowee down,
There lived an old Lord by the Northern sea,
And he had daughters one, two three;
I'll be true to my love,
If my love will be true to me.
All the while the bride and groom sat primly side-by-side near the
hearth and looked on.
The rest stepped the tune to the singing of the Twa Sisters, reenacting
the story of the old ballad as it moved along.
It gave everyone an opportunity to swing and step.
After that the bride's father stepped to the middle of the room and
urged even the bride to join in. In the meantime the young folks had
taken the opportunity to tease the bride, while the young men went
further by bussing her cheek. A kiss of the modest, proper sort was not
out of order; every groom knew and expected that. Even a most jealous
fellow knew to conceal his displeasure, for it would only add to further
pranking on the part of the rest if he protested.
Presently two of the young lads came in bearing a pole. They caught the
eye of the groom who knew full well the meaning of the pole. Quickly he
tapped his pocket till the silver jingled, nodded assent to the unspoken
query. They should have silver to buy a special treat for all the
menfolks; forthwith the polebearers withdrew, knowing the groom would
keep his word.
And now the father of the bride egged the groom and his wife to step out
and join in singing and dancing the next song, which the father started
in a rollicking, husky voice:
Charlie's neat, and Charlie's sweet,
And Charlie he's a dandy.
It was a dignified song and one of the few in which the woman advanced
first toward the man in the dance. The lads already being formed in line
at one side, the girls one at a time advanced as all sang, took a
partner by the hand, swung him once; then stepping, in time with the
song, to the next the lad repeated the simple step until she had gone
down the line. The second girl followed as soon as the first girl had
swung the first lad, and so each in turn participated, skipping finally
on the outside of the opposite line, making a complete circle of the
dancers, and resuming her first position.
It did not concern them that they were singing and stepping an old
Jacobean song that had been written in jest of a Stuart King, Charles
II.
At the invitation of the bride's mother the dancing ceased for a time so
that all might partake of the feast she had spent days preparing. Even
in this there was the spirit of friendly rivalry. The bride's mother
sought to outdo the groom's parent in preparing a feast for the
gathering; the next day, according to their age-old custom, the
celebration of the infare would continue at the home of his folks.
When all had eaten their fill again the bride's granny carried out her
part of the tradition. She hobbled in with a rived oak broom. This she
placed in the center of the floor with the brush toward the door.
Everyone knew that was the sign for ending the frolic at the bride's
home. Also they knew it was the last chance for a shy young swain to
declare himself to his true love as they sang the ancient ballad, which
granny would start, and did its bidding. Usually not one of the unwed
would evade this custom. For, if _she_ sang and stepped with _him_, it
meant betrothal. So they stepped and sang lustily:
Here comes the poor old chimney sweeper,
He has but one daughter and cannot keep her,
Now she has resolved to marry,
Go choose the one and do not tarry.
Now you have one of your own choosing,
Be in a hurry, no time for losing;
Join your right hands, this broom step over,
And kiss the lips of your true lover.
So ended the infare wedding at the bride's home.
The next day all went to the home of the groom's parents and repeated
the feasting and dancing, and on the third day the celebration continued
at the home of the young couple.
In those days mountain people shared each other's work as well as their
play. Willing hands had already helped the young groom raise his house
of logs on a house seat given by his parents, and along the same creek.
It was the way civilization moved. The son settled on the creek where
his father, like his before him, had settled, only moving farther up
toward its source as his father had done when he had wed.