Читать книгу The Greatest Plague of Life: or, the Adventures of a Lady in Search of a Good Servant - Henry Mayhew - Страница 11

“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.