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A HOOSIER WEDDING.
BY JACOB JENKINS, JR.
It was once my good fortune to be invited to a country wedding ; not exactly
a country wedding either, but a village wedding, in the goodly State of Indiana,
which possessed [1] all the charms of the most complete rurality. There is so
much natural generosity, and blunt open-heartedness amongst the hardy inhabitants
of the woods, that to me, reared and confined in the crowd and bustle of city
life, and tired of its formal etiquette and cold conventionalities, a visit
or a frolic of description in the country, possessed charms of the first magnitude.
Hence my delight may be easily imagined, upon receiving, whilst busily engaged
in my daily avocation, a fancifully enveloped billet, the contents
whereof read as follows :
“Mr. J. JENKINS--You are respectfully invited to be present at the wedding of
Mr. Thomas Baily and Miss Susan Wilkins, which will take place to-morrow, (Wednesday)
afternoon, at 3 o’clock, at the Jeffersonville Hotel. You are also invited to
attend the wedding party to Charlestown, where the infair will be held, at half-past
seven o’clock.
Respectfully, S.W.”
This pleasant invitation came from the bride, with whom I had been acquainted
about a week, and which acquaintance happened whilst she was in the
city, superintending the manufacture of her wedding “toggery.” I had no fear
about making my way with the country people--for the bride was my only acquaintance--so
I made instant preparations for departure ;
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and next day, at the appointed hour, I bade a short good-by to the bustling city
of the Falls, and crossing the river, soon found myself at the hotel where the
wedding was to take place. In the parlor were assembled a goodly number of robust
damsels, in bandbox trim, preserving a tremulous silence, in anticipation of the
“orful event.” In a short time, a bustle in the backroom announced something,
and in marched bridegroom, bride, attendants, and minister, and took up their
stand in the middle of the room.
Thomas Bailey, Esq., was a tremendous double-fisted, raw-boned young man, and
tall enough to “lick salt” off the head of any man in the room. He appeared ill
at ease in his new suit of glistening doe-skin ; notwithstanding which, a roguish
leer on his bronzed countenance, as he exchanged glances with his friends, seemed
to indicate his appreciation of the whole affair as a first-rate joke. The bride,
however, from her little smattering of city manners, considered it her duty to
look sad, in which she succeeded very creditably. But the ceremony once over,
her smiles returned, and then commenced the kissing, shaking of hands, congratulations,
&c., &c. In my enthusiasm, I seized the hand of the gigantic Tom, and received
a squeeze that made my joints crackle. I resolved that from that time forward,
I would salute him only at a distance. Refreshments were handed round, and then
came preparations for departure. After a great amount of chaffering, pinning of
ribbons and capes, adjusting of bonnets, etc., the “gals” announced themselves
ready. The bridegroom went to the door, and gave a signal, and up came the “Jeffersonville
and Charlestown United States Mail Coach,” as it was styled in the mail contract.
In reality, however, it was nothing more than a very dilapidated, ancient-looking
barouche, drawn by two horses, of that species known as “crow-baits.” The bride
and two other young ladies were crammed into the back seat, whilst the bridegroom
and his friend took the front seat, the former driving. And
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then, in regular succession, came five or six other vehicles of venerable appearance,
into which the company were stowed, in all sorts of confusion. I had a light buggy,
with one vacant seat, which, after an introduction for the purpose, was filled
by a very comely country lass, I commenced the cultivation of her acquaintance
as soon as the cavalcade got under way ; she was very shy at first, but gradually
got over her bashfulness, and, barring her loud laughter, I found her a very charming
companion.
The procession was now fairly started, and moved leisurely along ; for the distance
to Charlestown being fifteen miles, the bridegroom regulated the speed, so as
to reach the village about sunset. We had scarcely got out of sight of Jeffersonville
when the bridegroom, who had evidently been under an unpleasant restraint of some
kind, startled the whole conclave by a loud and prolonged “Whoo-o-o-pee!” which
rang through the woods till echo sent it back again.
“Now, Tom, do behave--you’ll skyur the horses!” gently remonstrated the bride.
But Tom, in his exuberance of spirits, heeded her not, and proceeded to sing,
in a stentorian, but not unmusical voice,
“If I was back in old Virginny,
I’d lead a different life ;
I’d save my money, and buy a farm,
And take Susan for my wife!
Oh! carry me back to Old Virginny,
To Old Virginny’s shore!
Oh! carry my back to Old Virginny,
To Old Virginny’s shore!”
The bride remonstrated no more, seeing it was useless, for Tom was in a perfect
“blaze of glory,” and must give his feelings vent in some way. A very general
and noisy hilarity pervaded
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the whole company, and the forest was vocal with the echoes of the coarse guffaws
of the men, and the clear ringing laughter of the girls, diversified by an occasional
faint scream,[2] as the wheels, owing to awkward driving, passed over some stump
or stone in the road. The bridegroom, at regular intervals, would bellow forth
his favorite--
“Oh! carry me back to Old Virginny,”
and then, turning his head, would open a brisk conversation with some one in
one of the rear carriages. The slow driving did not exactly suit me, and as
my travelling companion was quite sufficient to engage all my attention, I gave
my horse to the lash, and dashed ahead of all the procession ; not so speedily,
however, as to prevent me from hearing some one of the girls in the slow coaches
remark, “Well, I think Ellen’s a-doin’ it up brown!” and from some one else,
“There’ll be another weddin’ soon, I guess.” We dashed on regardless of these
remarks, and soon left the rest of the company far out of sight and hearing.
Oh! I tell you it was delicious, that ride in the country, in early summer,
when the birds warbled sweetest, and the fresh air of the woods expanded and
invigorated the frame, rendering the heart doubly susceptible to the rustic
charms of the merry damsel by my side! After we had got a good distance in advance,
we halted for the procession to come up, and spent the time in picking mulberries.
Presently, the approach of the [illegible] announced by the well known,
“Oh! carry me back!”
of the big bridegroom, ringing clear and musical through the woods. Then, getting
into our buggy, we dashed on again, and halted as before, and so on, until my
fair companion in
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formed me that we should stop until the procession came up, and then take our
place in the rear, so as to enter the village in proper order.
Whilst waiting for the main body to come up with us, a deep black cloud [3] made
its appearance in the firmament, and soon obscured the sun from sight. A summer
thunderstorm was coming, and we had a very fair prospect of a ducking. So I just
drove a little distance from the road, taking shelter under the trees, and made
every preparation to meet the coming storm, which was soon upon us in all its
fury. Heaven’s artillery thundered forth its fiercest salvos, and the rain decended
in unbroken torrents for more than half an hour. The shelter of the trees, the
cover of the buggy, and a good umbrella enabled my partner and I to escape with
nothing more than a slight sprinkling. The cloud cleared off and the sun shone
out once more ; but he was rapidly nearing the horizon, and there was yet no sign
of the slow coaches. Impatience now began to possess me ; but just as Old Sol
was sinking from sight, and leaving his last smile on the tops of the trees, the
loud and clear voice of the stalwart Tom came echoing through the wood, bearing
its usual burden--
“Oh! carry me back!”
and soon he hove in sight, at the head of his procession, in as boisterous a humor
as ever. The carriages now presented a sadly begrimed and muddy appearance, as
also did some of their male occupants.
“Halloo?” cried I, saluting the bridegroom, “what on earth kept you back so long?
I’ve been waiting here an hour and a half, at least.”
“Well, you see,’, he replied, with his impertuberable good humor, we was gettin’
along purty fine, and didn’t mind the rain at all, till we got to the branch,
about two miles back, whar you know the banks is mighty steep, and the ground
all yaller
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clay. We all slid down hill mighty easy, but as for coming up this side, we couldn’t
come it, no how, the clay was so rotten and slippery. It kept on a rainin’, and
the branch begun to rise, and was soon up to the hubs of some of the carriages
behind us. This won’t do, boys, says I ; we’d better take a ducking than be drownded,
for the branch is risin’ mighty fast. So I just gathered Suse and jumped
out, and the rest of the boys did the same to the gals that was with them, and
we toted ‘em up hill in a roundabout way, and set ‘em down, and when we went back
for the hosses and waggins, they had to come and no mistake!”
“Oh, carry me back to Old Virginny!
To Old Virginny’s shore!”
This adventure was food for much mirth, notwithstanding the ducking that most
of the party caught. I took my place in the rear of the procession, which entered
the village in stately order, at twilight. The population were all agog, and as
we passed through the main street, every house disgorged its inhabitants, young
and old, who stared to their heart’s content. We soon arrived at the bridegroom’s
house, a comfortable looking mansion, in the outskirts of the village. The house
was brilliantly lighted up with tallow candles, and every thing appeared to be
ready. A general disembarkation now took place, Mrs. Bailey, senior, receiving
the company with much good grace, and saluting her new daughter [4] with a hearty
smack, as she was handed from the coach. Most of the company dispersed to their
respective homes, in quest of dry garments, but soon returned, giving indications
of a fierce determination to spend a jolly evening in some style.
The “infair,” or wedding supper, was all ready and waiting ; we were marshalled
to our seats and a most sumptuous feast it was. It is useless to attempt a description
of the edibles under
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which the long table groaned, but as the country air and afternoon ride had given
me a ferocious appetite, I never enjoyed a feast more in my life. In the drinking
line, besides tea and coffee, the table was ornamented with famous pitchers of
new milk, buttermilk and lemonade. Nothing stronger, for teetotalism held sway
in Charlestown. The supper finished, all hands returned to the front room--it
could not well be called a parlor, for a heavenly looking bed, with a snow-white
counterpane, stood in one corner, serving as a repository for the hats, bonnets,
and other out-door gear of the company. At any rate, it answered the purpose of
a parlor to the very evident satisfaction of the company, as they “paired off”
to their seats, much to the admiration of a promiscuous crowd of idlers who collected
about the open door and windows, but who were invisible in the Egyptian darkness
that reigned without. The “merrie companie” were not long thus seated, before
various remarks, tending to the same point, began to be audible, such as “room
not big enough”--“take up the carpet”--“move the bed”--“who’s the fiddler?”--“must
have a break-down,” &c. In the midst of this chattering, I was startled beyond
measure, by not an “air from heaven,” but something more like a “blast from hell,”
than e’er before smote mortal ear.
“Ah! thur they ar--I know’d they’d be hyur!” said my partner of the buggy, with
whom I happened to be singled off on this occasion.
“What!” said I, having recovered from my shock--for the blast had not yet ended--“do
you have shiverees in this little place?”
“It’s the Charlestown amatoor brass band,” said she, not appearing to comprehend
my remark about shiverees ; “they’re all young men belonging hyur, and
hav’n’t been practisin’ more’n three months ; they’re a playin’ ‘Love Not,’ now--listen!”
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Miss Ellen appeared so proud of this band, and so elated at the “suranade” that
politeness compelled me to turn an attentive ear towards the darkness, from which
proceeded a chaotic confusion of sounds that might have tested less refined nerves
than mine. A great wrangling amongst bugles, cornets, &c., was discernible, but
the great feature of the band was the trombone. It was perfectly deafening, and
it appeared as if the blower’s object was to drown every other sound, in which
he nearly succeeded. I never heard half the noise from that noisy instrument before,
and began to feel some curiosity to see this tremendous performer, for the darkness
without engulphed everything. “Love Not” being ended, “Yankee Doodle” was next
assailed, and treated very roughly. During this last infliction, Tom Bailey, Esq.,
made his appearance with a load of chairs, which he ranged in a straight line
from the front to the back door ; then disappearing, entered with more, until
the row was completed. The band having finished up “Yankee Doodle,” Tom stood
in the door, and called out in his happiest style:
“Gentlemen, walk in and have something--thur’s plenty room for you, and plenty
chicken fixins on hand!”
Then arose a contest between the “amatoors” as to who should enter first. Each
one feeling conscious of having surpassed himself in the “suranade,” felt a certain
modesty in first entering such a blaze of beauty and tallow candles.
“Bill, go in fust ; you know more of the gals than any of us,” said one voice,
just above a whisper. “No, I’ll be dang’d if I do ; lead on yourself,” answered
Bill. A slight scuffleing was heard in the darkness near the door, as of some
one endeavoring to push another forward, which of course was resisted. “Now, Bill,
do lead on,” whispered another voice, “you’re the best drest, and I think oughter
go fust.” “I tell you again, I shan’t do nothin’ of the kind ; why the d--l don’t
you ax John Perkins? He’s leader, and its his place to go fust.”
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This appeared to settle the dispute, for in another moment Mr. Perkins entered,
hat in hand, took his seat in the first chair all confusion and perspiration.
After him came his trusty followers, all having a very heated and bashful appearance
; each one taking the first vacant seat, laying his instrument across his lap,
and depositing his hat on the floor behind his chair. As they entered my curiosity
heightened, and was gratified finally by the entrance of the trombone man, who
came last of all, and stumbled sadly over his companions’ feet in making his way
to the farthest chair. They were in truth a motley crowd, both in manner and costume,
but the trombone man was the “feature.” Scarcely less in size than the bridegroom,
his instrument, which he laid softly on the bed, was little more than a penny-trumpet
in his hands ; and as he sat cross-legged--by this means betraying the total absence
of socks from his red legs--fanning himself with his straw hat, and grinning recognitions
around the room, he formed a picture worthy of the best effort of any aspiring
painter.
Again our worthy host made his appearance, with a respectable sized platter in
each hand, on which were lemonade, sweet cake, raisins, and candy kisses, to which
our friends, the musicians, did ample justice. By this time the “ice had melted,”
and several of the corps betrayed an unmistakable desire for conversation ; and
whilst “putting away” the good things, compliments poured upon them thick and
fast, with accompanying requests that they would play nearly every tune under
the sun before they left. Of course, they promised to gratify each request. One
young gentleman in a corner requested “Soapsuds over the fence,” emitted a horse-laugh,
and relapsed into profound silence. The good things having entirely disappeared,
and the candy-kiss verses duly handed over to and circulated among the girls,
Mr. Perkins rose to his feet and said:
“Gentlemen and ladies, I hope you’ll excuse us, but we must be a-goin’. We wish
you all a very good night, and hope you’ll
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have lots of fun.” Saying which, he ducked his head, and disappeared backward
into the darkness. The corps followed his example with military precision—each
one marching straight to the door, wheeling round, bobbing his head, and backing
out of sight.
“Rec’lect, now, Hail Columby!” cried a fat damsel ; in yellow curls and pink ribbons.
“You said you’d play ‘Love Not’ again--now mind you do,” added a loquacious but
good looking young widow. “Hold your hosses a minit, gentlemen,” said
the ringing voice of Tom Bailey, as that gentleman strode out after the musicians.
In a moment he returned, and taking his place by his blooming bride, a breathless
silence reigned. With difficulty I kept my fingers out of my ears, and awaited
the “music.” And in an instant it came again--that infernal blast, which my partner
pronounced a “most delightful overchure.” The trombone man let himself out this
time--his first appearance “wasn’t a circumstance.” “The overture” concluded--then
came--oh! horror!
“Carry me back! oh, carry me back!”
and the bridegroom’s interview with the band was explained. This fine air, rendered
tiresome even by the bridegroom’s tolerable singing, was now perfectly execrable
; and after the band had murdered it, as they subsequently did “Hail Columby,”
and departed after giving three boisterous cheers for Mr. and Mrs. Bailey,[5]
I felt a relief that cannot be described.
The “music” having been duly discussed, a desire to “trip it on the light fantastic
toe” began to manifest itself. At this juncture, the bridegroom rose and proposed,
before having the dance, to go to “the saloon, and have some ice cream.”
“What!” exclaimed I, turning to Miss Ellen, “have you an ice-cream saloon here?”
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“Well, I don’t spose they’d talk about goin’ to one if they didn’t have one to
go to,” responded she tartly, and giving me a look which there was no mistaking.
I was going too far ; for a village only fifteen miles from a city cannot be reckoned
as entirely without the pale of civilization.
Eight couples [6] started forth, Tom and his bride leading ; and after stumbling
over stones and into mud puddles, in groping our way through the darkness, we
at length arrived in front of a small shanty, with a barber’s pole sticking from
the door ; and into this Tom led the way with the air of a man who had been there
before. An idea possessed me that he was perpetrating a joke in entering a barber’s
shop ; but to my surprise he was followed by all, with perfect gravity, and of
course, by myself and companion. Squeezing round the end of a little counter,
our jolly bridegroom drew aside a calico curtain, and displayed the “saloon” in
all its glory.
It was certainly a model establishment, that, and one which severely tested my
assumed gravity. The frosty wooled, solemn looking Ethiopian who presided over
it, was a genius in his way. He had divided a room of twelve by sixteen feet into
three compartments, in the first of which he carried on the business of confectioner
and dealer in varieties ; in the rear of this were the other two rooms, one used
as a barber’s shop, and the other as the “saloon.” The furniture of this delectable
retreat consisted of two very diminutive pine tables. The board partition was
respectably papered, and ornamented with two prints--one the “Soldier’s Return,”
the other “The Proposal.” On the opposite side was the “window,” a small square
hole with a pane of glass in a frame, which was now raised, the weather being
warm ; and through this opening came the mellifluous notes of a small colony of
frogs, croaking forth their evening anthem from a pond that guarded that side
of the shanty.
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Well, this “saloon” was found to be just large enough to accommodate the ladies,
four around each table ; the gentlemen disposing themselves as best suited them,
in the confectionary and in the barber’s shop, which latter also communicated
with the “saloon” by a door, over which another sumptuous calico curtains hung
in graceful folds. After a prodigious grinding in the ice cream tub, “Mr. Williams”
(as he was called by all the company) began to serve up the refreshments in very
small glasses. The cream was villainous [7]; the first taste sickened me, but
as Miss Ellen, who was within hailing distance, pronounced it a great luxury,
my fear for that young lady induced me to finish my glass. Her answer to my question
about the saloon, had put me on my guard. There is no chance for a man in a country
village, if he should happen to do or say any thing having the semblance of putting
on “city airs.” I was making myself as agreeable as possible with the young gentlemen
in the confectionary, whilst sipping away at our cream ; a crowd, or the
crowd of idlers, had assembled about the door, indulging in mirth and criticism,
and amongst other “telling” remarks that were made loud enough to be heard inside,
was the following, in a mushy voice:
“That city chap’s been putting on ars considerable to-night, I think!”
A boisterous laugh rewarded this sally, the great humor consisting in the certainty
that I heard it. “Some barefoot brother of Miss Ellen’s,” thought I, and preserved
my equanimity. The only demonstration made by the bridegroom here, worthy of record,
was his squeezing himself into a corner of the saloon, and bumping his head against
the wooden ceiling, by rising on tiptoe, whilst eating his cream, much to the
amusement of the ladies and the indignation of the old darkey. But as all bad
things have an end, so had the cream, and soon we were homeward bound, groping
through the darkness and mud.
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Upon arriving at the scene of festivity, things wore an altered appearance. The
carpet had been taken up, the floor swept and sprinkled ; a box was in the corner,
diagonally opposite the bed ; on the box a chair ; on the chair a greasy-looking
African, and in the African’s hands a violin and bow--all rosined, tuned, and
ready for action. These preparations were greeted with delight by the ice-cream
party ; the bed was in the road, to be sure, but it couldn’t well be moved--so
they would get along as best they could.
A cotillion was soon formed ; the dancers took their stands ; the negro laid his
left cheek on the breech of his instrument, and struck up “Jim Crack Corn ;” and
then commenced one of those real, good old fashioned, jolly country dances, which
are not easily forgotten by one accustomed to the mincing steps and stately distances
of the city cotillion. The bed infringed somewhat upon the circle of dancers,
but they never heeded it, and jostled each other with the greatest good humor
in the world. “Forward two”--“ladies change”--“swing de corners”[8]--“sashy all,”
etc, called the negro in [9] regular succession, beating time on the box with
his huge flat foot. The first cotillion over, a new one was formed, one of the
pairs being Mr. Tom Bailey and his bride. “Come, old feller, give us ‘Carry me
back!’” said Tom, rubbing and bouncing his boots over the floor, preparatory to
the dance. “Can’t play dat, Mr. Bailey!” said the negro. “Well, any thing’ll do.”
So the fiddler struck up “Rackensack,” and away went the dance. In a short time
Tom became heated, then uproarious. An involuntary yell would escape him occasionally
as he whirled with his Susan through the dance, coming down on his heels till
the building trembled, and saluting his bride with a hearty smack as he brought
her back to their place. After a while came refreshments, and then again the dance,
which was kept up with great energy until the Yankee clock on the mantel struck
three, and the sconces on the wall had long tallow icicles suspended to
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them. Some one now moved an adjournment. “Don’t be in a hurry, gentlemen,” said
the bridegroom ; but it got whispered around that the nice looking bed in the
corner was the bridal bed, and as if by common consent, all the company
departed for their respective homes, after a great shaking of hands with the bridegroom
and kissing of the bride. I conducted the fair Ellen to her home, promising to
ride out and see her some Sunday--and finding my way back, was shown to my quarters
for the night. I betrayed my city raising by rising the last one in the morning.
At breakfast the newly married couple appeared in the plain habiliments of every-day
life ; and “truly,” tho’t I, “they are an enviable pair.” Wishing them a hearty
good-bye, I left for the city, with many regrets that fortune had not gifted me
with a country birth and home. It will be long, before I forget the pleasure I
enjoyed at this “Hoosier Wedding.”
Notes:
Source: Southern and Southwestern Sketches: Fun, Sentiment, and Adventure.
Edited by a Gentleman of Richmond. Richmond: J.W. Randolph, n.d. 54-67. University
of Virginia Alderman Library.
Erin Bartels prepared this typescript.
[1] Original text reads “possed.”
[2] Original text reads "cream."
[3] Original text reads "could."
[4] Original text reads “daughther.”
[5] Spellings of names vary throughout this piece.
[6] Original text reads “couple.”
[7] Original text reads “villianous.”
[8] Original text omits first quotation mark.
[9] Original text reads “iu.”
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