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Many of the invited guests have already replied that they are coming, but the king and the royal princes will send only their envoys. It is doubtful, also, if my aunt, the Princess Woivodine of Lublin will be able to come, but she is much pleased with Basia's choice, and she wrote a beautiful letter with her blessing,--which made my honored Father very happy.
I am hurrying with my embroidery, but I must rise early and work by candle-light, for my honored Mother is so gracious toward me that she often wants my help and service. Before this, only Basia, as the eldest, was so fortunate, but now, my honored Parents want me to have some practice in order to take her place when the Staroste takes her away. Twice already I have had the key of the medicine closet intrusted to me, and I really think since then I have grown more serious.
February 12.
The preparations for the wedding are going on, and our visitors begin to arrive. Almost all the guest-rooms are already occupied, and the farm-house, the parsonage, even the better peasant-cottages will be wanted for the later comers. The cooks and the confectioners are already preparing all kinds of delicacies and sweetmeats for the coming event.
To-day the beds have been sent to Sulgostow and two enormous chests with mattresses, pillows, carpets, curtains, etc. The bedsteads are of carved oak with blue covers, curtains, and canopies; on the four corners there will be bunches of blue and white ostrich-feathers. Almost every moment Basia has good reason for embracing the hands and the feet of our honored Parents, they are so generous toward her. The Count is writing with his own hand, in a large book, the contents of the trousseau, beginning with these words:--
"Inventory of the wedding outfit which I, Stanislaus Korwin Krasinski, Staroste of Nova Wies, etc., etc., and Angela, born Humiecka, my honored wife, are giving to our eldest and beloved daughter Barbara, promised in marriage to the honorable Michael Swidinski, Staroste of Radom; and imploring for this daughter of ours the favor of Heaven, we bestow upon her our parental blessing, _in nomine Patri et Filii et Spiritu Sancto_. Amen." I should like to copy here the whole inventory, but first, I have no time, and secondly, I expect to receive a trousseau like this sometime myself, and what is still better, such a blessing of my own.
February 20.
Three days more and then the wedding. The Staroste arrived yesterday; Basia shook like a leaf when the chamberlain brought him into the parlor. To-day we are expecting the Woivode, Father Albert, the colonel and the Woivodine Granowska, sister of the Staroste, with her husband. Basia is entering into a fine family,--all religious and worthy people. The trousseau is quite finished, and what has not already been sent to Sulgostow is packed in trunks, of which Mademoiselle Zavistoska has the keys. Besides this mademoiselle, Basia will take with her two young girls, her G.o.ddaughters, well trained in all kinds of needle-work, and as companion, one of the six damsels who have been brought up with us.
When I am married I shall take still more; I have already solemnly promised three girls that they shall go with me; one of them is the daughter of our Peter. In his grateful joy, the old man bowed to my feet, and for the first time his forehead was free from wrinkles.
_Sunday_, February 22.
The wedding will be to-morrow. Our guests are numberless, and all the envoys are here. The king's envoy is the Secretary Borch; that of the Duke of Courland, his confidant the Castellanic[9]
Kochanowski, a very handsome and polite cavalier; the proverb is right: "As the master, so the valet." I cannot possibly describe all the others; they arrived, as if by appointment, at the same hour yesterday, and their entrance was quite imposing. Before every one of them our dragoons presented arms, while the cannons were firing and the music playing. The greatest honors were shown to the king's envoy; the Count, having been informed of the hour of his arrival, was waiting with head uncovered on the drawbridge, and all our guests, courtiers, and servants stood in a double row up to the entrance door. As soon as the secretary stepped on the bridge they all shouted "Vivat!" and bowed low in salutation.
[9] Son of a castellan.
To-day, in the presence of the whole company, and before appointed witnesses, the marriage contract was written, but I do not know what it contains, as I have not understood a single word of it. I know only that the bride received many beautiful presents: from the Staroste three strings of oriental pearls; from the Woivode a rich diamond cross and an aigrette with diamond pendants; from the colonel an enamelled watch and chain; from Father Albert many relics; and from each relative a souvenir. Basia can hardly believe that all these riches belong to her; until now, her only jewel, besides her betrothal ring, was a small ring with the picture of the Holy Virgin on it, and I am sure Basia will not discard her old friend for all the costly jewels which she now receives.
The maid has just brought my _neglige_, washed and pressed; it looks very nice. There are twenty-five different kinds of lace-st.i.tch in it; I am sure it will be becoming to Basia.
_Shrove Tuesday_, February 26.
All is over, and as Matenko says, "with a hundred horses one could not catch Mademoiselle Barbara any more;" she is Madame Starostine. I have much to tell.
Yesterday, very early in the morning, we rode to our parish church in Lisow, where the bride and the bridegroom went to confession and to communion. As it was cold the bride wore a white cloak of brocade silk, lined with white fox fur, and on her head a long lace veil.
When we returned breakfast was served, and soon afterwards the dressing of the bride commenced; twelve n.o.ble ladies headed by my honored Mother undertook that important task. The dress was of white satin, with watered silk stripes, a frill of Brabant lace with silver ornaments at the bottom, and a long train; a rosemary bouquet fastened the front of the corsage. On her head the bride wore a rosemary wreath held in place by a gold circlet on which was engraved the date of the wedding and good wishes in rhyme. According to the old Polish custom, my honored Mother fastened in the wreath a ducat with the date of Basia's birth-year, and a bit of bread for good luck; she also added to the above a lump of sugar in order to sweeten the married life, which they say has many difficulties. No jewels were allowed, for it is said that for each precious stone worn on the wedding day, one has to pay afterwards with a vial of tears. As it is, Basia has wept enough, so that her eyes are red and swollen.
A little in advance, the bridesmaids went downstairs; we were twelve, all dressed in white, and the eldest of us was not more than eighteen. The bridegroom with twelve groomsmen met us at the door of the parlor, and there we found all the guests a.s.sembled. An enormous tray was carried behind us, heaped with bouquets of rosemary and orange sprays, each tied with a white ribbon, which were destined for the young ladies and bachelors present at the wedding. To fasten on these bouquets, each bridesmaid had a certain number of gold and silver pins, and great care was to be used in distributing the different values according to the rank of each person. The elderly ladies have been teaching us for a long time about the method we should follow in order not to cause offence by giving the priority to persons of lesser rank, and we were sure we understood the lesson perfectly; but as soon as we were in the hall, everything was forgotten. At first, we began our task very gravely, then we went on with a smile, and finally we broke into laughter; many and many mistakes were committed, but all were pardoned, and our gaiety was so contagious that soon the married people and even the elderly ladies and venerable gentleman,--none of whom have any right to wear flowers on a wedding day,--all wanted a bouquet. The first heap disappeared; they brought a second tray full, and a third one; we had no more gold or silver pins, and had to use the ordinary ones, but they were received just as well. At the end everybody looked happy; all had their bouquets, and the room was like a garden.
But no, I am mistaken, not everybody was happy,--Matenko stood sad in a corner; although a bachelor he had received no flowers, and he looked as if he did not belong to the wedding party. I stepped up to him, and he said in a low, grieved voice: "I do not wonder that the other young ladies have not thought of me,--but Miss Frances, whom I have known as a baby, whom, for so many years, I have played with and amused, that she should forget me! Well, I will not come to her wedding, even if she marries a king's son!" I knew that I blushed half pleased, but was still more vexed at my forgetfulness.
I ran to the dressing-room, but there was not one bouquet left, for my honored Mother, hearing how the flowers were being appropriated in the hall, took the remaining ones for the ladies who were dressing the bride and for herself. The greenhouses were too far off to send there, and I wanted, at any price, a bouquet for poor Matenko. Suddenly a happy thought came to my mind: I caught a piece of white ribbon and returning hastily to the parlor, took off my bouquet and gave half of it, with the golden pin, to Matenko. He was so pleased! "Franulka," he exclaimed, "you are as kind as you are handsome! I am sometimes a prophet; remember, young lady, what I have said to you.... I shall keep these flowers till your wedding day, and who knows with what t.i.tle I shall address you when giving them back?" How strange! Notwithstanding all the distractions of the day, his words are still ringing in my ears; and here I am writing about myself, when I ought to think only about Basia.
To return to the wedding: the folding doors were thrown open and Basia entered timidly, surrounded by the elderly ladies. The bridegroom approached and took her by the hand, and the two knelt down before my honored Parents, asking them for their blessing; then they went with the same request to us, to all the relatives, guests, and the whole household present, and there was not one person who did not bless them with his whole heart and with tears in his eyes.
The chapel door opened. Father Albert put on a lace surplice, and standing before the altar, called upon us to draw near. The Secretary Borch as the king's representative, and the Castellanic Kochanowski, led the bride; Mademoiselle Malachowska and I, as first bridesmaids, were directed to lead the bridegroom. All the other people went behind us, two by two, in such deep silence that one could hear the rustle of the silk dresses, even the tinkling of the diamond aigrettes in the ladies' coiffures.
The altar was glittering with lights; a carpet woven with golden threads covered the steps, and on the highest were two red velvet cushions with the coats of arms of the two families, embroidered in gold.
The young pair knelt down; the bridesmaids were placed on the right side of the altar; the groomsmen on the left; I held a small gold tray with the wedding rings on it, my honored Parents stood behind Basia, the Woivode behind the Staroste. The castle band in the choir played "Veni Creator," after which Father Albert recited an allocution, almost the whole in Latin, and then he began to read the words of the marriage vow. Basia, although in tears, repeated distinctly enough: "I, Barbara, take you, Michael, for my wedded husband," etc., but the Staroste p.r.o.nounced the words much louder. After the rings were exchanged the married pair fell down at the feet of my honored Parents and the Woivode's, and were blessed again.
Then the marshal gave a sign; the band in the choir and the Italian singers fetched from Warsaw began a triumphal march, accompanied by the discharge of cannons outside, and when this was all over, and silence re-established, the Count p.r.o.nounced a fine and very moving exhortation, at the end of which Basia fell again at his feet, sobbing; she tried to speak, but not a word could she utter.
After mutual embracings, salutations, and congratulations, Father Albert sprinkled us with holy water, and presented a cross with relics to be kissed. But he made a mistake, giving it first to Madame the Castellan Jordan before Madame Kochanowska, mother of the duke's envoy. Fortunately, my honored Mother noticed the error, and begged the latter lady to lead the bridegroom from the altar, and thus happily all unpleasantness was avoided. The bride was attended by the king's envoy, and again, two by two, we returned from the chapel. Soon afterwards the dinner was announced. The tables in the banquet-hall were arranged so as to form the letter B; in the centre stood the result of the fortnight's invention and labor of our French confectioner,--an ell[10]-high pyramid representing the temple of Hymen, where, amidst all kind of ornaments, allegorical figures, and inscriptions, were the coats of arms of the two families.
There were also many other devices on the table, in silver baskets, vases, epergnes, porcelain figures, etc.; it was so crowded that our little dwarf could not have easily walked on the table this time. It would not be possible to enumerate all the courses of the dinner, and as for the wine which was drunk, I wonder if the butler himself could give an account. Besides other wines, they drank at that dinner a barrel of wine which was called "Miss Barbara's wine," which the Count, according to the Polish custom, brought from Hungary in the year of Basia's birth, and which had been kept for her wedding day. Each of us has such a barrel. Then they began the toasts: first for Poland, then for the young pair, then for the king, the Duke of Courland, the royal princes, the primate, the master of the house, the ladies, etc., each accompanied with loud shoutings, hurrahs, breaking of the gla.s.ses, with the music of the band and the firing of cannons; altogether there was such a tumult that I think there will not be a greater one on doomsday.
[10] Two feet.
After dessert was served, and we thought it was time to leave the table, the Count gave a sign to the marshal, who brought in a black leather box with bra.s.s ornaments, which I had never seen before. My honored Father opened it and took out a golden cup embossed with precious stones and shaped like a raven; then rising, he announced with great solemnity that this cup was a souvenir from the time of the Corvins of Rome, and it had not been taken from its box since the day of his own wedding. The butler placed before him a bottle covered with mould, containing, as they said, wine a hundred years old. The Count poured out the whole into the cup, and lifting it cried: "Good luck to the young pair!" The hurrahs began anew, the music was louder than ever, the cannons fired, every man drank that toast in one draught, and after that we rose from the table.
The daylight was gone already. The lady-guests went to change their dresses, but the bride and the bridesmaids remained in the same toilets. About eight o'clock the dances began. The bride opened the ball with the king's envoy, and during the whole evening danced in the first set. At first there were grave polonaises, minuets, and contra-dances, but by and by, the gaiety increasing, we had the mazourkas and the cracoviaks. The Castellanic Kochanowski dances the cracoviak like an angel; and according to the custom, when he was in the first set he sang impromptu verses, very witty and apropos.
At midnight the music stopped and the "Cap" ceremony began. A stool was placed in the middle of the room, the bride sat down, and the bridesmaids began to undo her hair, singing in plaintive voices the old song: "Ah! we are losing you, Basia." Then my honored Mother removed the rosemary wreath and the Woivodine Malachowska put in its place a big lace cap. It seemed Basia was costumed for fun, and I should have laughed had not her eyes been overflowed with tears. The cap is very becoming to her, which they say is a sign that her husband will love her very much. I am sure he will; he could not help it, she is so good.
When this ceremony was over the bride was ordered to dance the "drabant" with the king's envoy, in honor of the reigning family, who introduced that dance in our country; after that, the music played again a very solemn polonaise, and the bride danced it with all the gentlemen present, one after another, beginning with the Woivode Swidinski, and ending with my honored Father, who, having once paced the ballroom with her, led her to the Staroste and gave her to him, not only for that dance, but for her whole lifetime.
This was the end of that night's entertainment for us girls; my honored Mother ordered us to go to bed, and the elder ladies took the bride to the apartment reserved for the young couple.
Other married and elderly people followed them, and I was told there were still more speeches in giving away the bride, returning of thanks from the bridegroom, new toasts, and all, that lasted very late into the night.
I slept wonderfully after all the excitement, and my feet are so rested that I am quite ready for to-night's ball. I danced mostly with the duke's envoy, the Castellanic Kochanowski, who returned from Luneville one year ago, and since then has been with the duke. He speaks very highly of his master; judging from the confidant, the other must be really a wonder.
I have not seen Basia yet, or rather Madame Starostine, as my honored Parents order us to call her. It seems so strange not to have her in our room. I have inherited her bed, her work-table, and all the rights of the eldest daughter. They will call me now "Mademoiselle Staroste,"
not simply "Mademoiselle Francoise," or "Franulka," as they did until now. It is a very little compensation, but still....
We shall begin the dances very early to-night, as it is the last Tuesday before Lent, so we have to stop at midnight.
_Ash Wednesday_, February 27.
Ash Wednesday, what a pity! no more dancing till next Carnival.
Our guests begin to depart: the king's envoy is gone, the young married couple are going the day after to-morrow, and we shall accompany them as far as their home, for the house-warming. The Staroste invited no guests but his relations, as big parties are not proper in Lent. I am very anxious to see the new home of my dearest sister; I cannot get accustomed to call her "Madame Starostine," but it would not be proper to speak to her otherwise, as even my honored Parents always call her so. She grew very grave from her wedding day; the cap she is wearing and the robes with long trains make her look several years older; she is sad and speaks very little; I am sure she grieves to leave her home, and to go away with a man whom she knows so little. It must be awful!
_Sat.u.r.day_, March 9.
Last night we returned from Sulgostow. I had a lovely time, but it is a pity not to have Madame Starostine back with us. Last Friday, before we started, she went very early to our parish church in Lisow, where she hung the half of a golden heart as a token that the half of her own heart will remain here. When she came back home she went around the whole castle, as if wishing to say good-bye to each corner, then she took her farewell of all the people in the household, and had a kind word for everybody.
When we were finishing a hasty breakfast, we heard loud crackings of the whip, and a chamberlain entered announcing that everything was ready for the journey. The Staroste looked at his wife, and whispered that it was time to set out. She fell then, sobbing, at the feet of my honored Parents, thanking them for all their favors that she had received during the eighteen years of her life, asking their pardon for all the offences she might have committed, and telling them that she wished nothing more than to be henceforth as happy as she had been. For the first time in my life I saw the Count crying; oh! how they blessed her! it did one's heart good to hear it, and there was not a person in the room whose eyes were dry.
We went to the bridge, but the captain ordered it to be lifted, and refused to let the bride go away until the Staroste gave him a ring as a token that he would bring her back again. The carriages of the Staroste were splendid,--a closed carriage painted yellow, lined with red damask, with seats for two persons, a landau with four seats, a coach, and several curricles. The horses were beautiful, especially six white ones drawing the yellow carriage in which the young couple were seated by themselves; behind them came the carriages with the women, and we came last. Madame Staroste sobbed so loud that we could hear her. Many courtiers and peasants followed the carriage, crying and blessing her. She gave them all the money she had with her, and the Staroste threw silver pieces bountifully.
At each halting-place where we stopped everything was prepared for our arrival: the floors were covered with rugs, the tables laid, and the waiters dressed in livery. On the following evening we reached Sulgostow. The Woivode and Father Albert started on ahead of us, in order to receive the bride in her new home. At the frontier of the property the peasants stopped the carriage of the young pair and offered bread and salt; one of the oldest men made a speech, followed by loud shouts of "Long live!" and when we entered the gate a company of hussars, whom the Staroste keeps in his court, fired salutes. Before the entrance door, the Woivode stood, with the whole court, and all of them gave the heartiest welcome to their new mistress. When we entered, the Staroste brought his wife a big bundle of keys, placing thus the whole house under her direction. From the following morning Madame Starostine took the management, and it was really wonderful how everything seemed easy to her and went smoothly; but, as the eldest of us, she was accustomed for many years to a.s.sist my honored Mother in her household duties.
Sulgostow looks quite different from Maleszow. It is a palace, not a castle, but still it is very grand and gay; the retinue is numerous, the house well provided, and, what is best, all the people seem so very happy to have my sister there.
For the first time in my life I tasted coffee in Sulgostow. My honored Parents do not like this fashionable beverage, which was introduced recently to Poland; they say that it spoils the complexion, so it is never served in our house. But the people in Sulgostow like it exceedingly, and the Staroste begged permission for me to drink a small cup of it.