Читать книгу Pepita - Vita Sackville-West - Страница 9

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On January 10th, 1851, Juan Antonio de la Oliva and Pepita Duran y Ortega were married at the church of San Millan, where Juan Antonio had been baptized nearly twenty-two years previously. Oliva’s sister, Isabel, tells us that when once the marriage was seen to be inevitable her parents resigned themselves to it and “everything became pleasant and agreeable.” The ceremony provided an occasion for a great gathering of family and friends, and for subsequent festivities which are recorded with appreciation by Isabel. The bride naturally could not produce as many relations in the city where she was, after all, a stranger, as the bridegroom whose native town it was. So far as the records make out, her only contribution to the party consisted of Catalina her mother, Manuel Lopez, her brother Diego, and the child Lola. Oliva, on the other hand, was nobly supported by a host of relations who saw an opportunity for getting not only a breakfast and a dinner at somebody else’s expense, but a dance and its attendant jollity thrown in.

At about 8 A.M. on the wedding day Juan Antonio, with all his more immediate relations, went to the house of the bride. There were his father and mother, his sister Isabel, his brothers Joaquin, Agustin, and Frederico with his son and daughter, and a friend named Ramon Acero who was to act as padrino. At the Calle de la Encomienda, Catalina, Lopez, Diego, Lola, and the bride herself were waiting for them, when they all proceeded together to the church of San Millan. Pepita, according to the usual custom, was dressed in black. She wore a black lace mantilla but no veil, and drew from one of the Madrilenian guests the comment that she looked dressed like an Andalusian going to a bull-fight. A great many more friends and relations were waiting for them at the church, including “at least fourteen uncles and aunts” and Pedrosa, who had come very reluctantly because Oliva had pressed him to do so, accepting the invitation only on the understanding that he should not be asked to go to Catalina’s house. Oliva seemed surprised to see him, and the first words he said were, “Oh, I thought you were not coming”. After the ceremony Pedrosa went into the Sacristy for Oliva’s sake and shook hands with Pepita. He saluted Catalina but avoided shaking hands with her. Lopez, however, came up to him and shook hands before he could prevent it. Oliva, who had been paying the marriage fees while everybody else collected their hats and coats, came up in his turn and pressed Pedrosa to come to the wedding dinner; Pedrosa agreed, but did not go, because of his objection to Catalina and Lopez.

Another very small guest arrived to leave a rather rueful record nearly fifty years later. This was Luisa, the bridegroom’s niece. “I was just six years of age. I remember having seen my uncle several times before his marriage and knew him as being my Uncle Juan Antonio. I recollect being taken to the church of San Millan and seeing a great number of people. I had some impression that Mass was being performed. It was the first wedding ceremony I had ever attended. I think I was too young to be taken notice of.”

Agustin Oliva, however, the bridegroom’s brother, who had attained the age of seven and a half, preserved quite a definite impression of his new sister-in-law. “She was muy guapa [very pretty] and dark.” He remembered being taken to some café after the wedding, and having something, but he couldn’t remember what. His sister-in-law had evidently made more impression on him than the subsequent cakes.

Luckily we have more to go on than the evidence of these two children. Isabel Oliva leaves a graphic account. “After the ceremony, we all adjourned to the Café Suiza, where some took coffee, others chocolate, and others whatever they pleased. From the Café Suiza, both parties returned to their respective homes and changed their wedding clothes, and afterwards the Oliva family, including Juan Antonio, went to Pepita’s house, from whence both families walked about the streets arm-in-arm till three-thirty or four o’clock, when they went to dinner at the Fonda de Europa, where we had the wedding feast in a room specially engaged for the purpose. It is the custom for the padrino to provide the wedding feast at his own cost. After dinner we retired to another room and passed the evening dancing till about one o’clock in the morning. Juan Antonio had an engagement at the Teatro Español, and had to leave the wedding party for a short time to go and perform his part. After that we all accompanied the bride and bridegroom to the house in Calle Encomienda and said good-bye to each other at the door.

“As soon as the marriage had been seen to be inevitable, the differences between the families ceased and everything was pleasant and agreeable at the wedding and the dinner.”

And pleasantly noisy too, we might credibly add. The family of a Spaniard associated with the theatre was not likely to comport itself with much restraint on such an occasion as the marriage-feast of its brilliant and successful young scion. We are told that they danced polkas, waltzes, and quadrilles, and that Pepita “threw herself with zest into every dance that went forward.” I imagine that they must have been very gay and uproarious, and that they looked with a good deal of curiosity at the dark Andalusian swaying in the arms of her bridegroom.