Southern States -- Social life and customs -- 1775-1865 -- Fiction
To-night Colonel Talbot Rutter of Moorlands, direct descendant of
the house of De Ruyter, with an ancestry dating back to the Spanish
Invasion, was to bid official welcome to a daughter of the house of
Seymour, equally distinguished by flood and field in the service of
its king. These two--God be thanked--loved each other, and now that the
young heir to Moorlands was to bring home his affianced bride, soon
to become his wedded wife, no honor could be too great, no expense too
lavish, no welcome too joyful.
Moreover, that this young princess of the blood might be accorded
all the honors due her birth, lineage, and rank, the colonel's own
coach-and-four, with two postilions and old Matthew on the box--twenty
years in the service--his whip tied with forget-me-nots, the horses'
ears streaming with white ribbons--each flank as smooth as satin and
each panel bright as a mirror--had been trundled off to Kennedy Square,
there to receive the fairest of all her daughters, together with such
other members of her royal suite--including His Supreme Excellency
the Honorable Prim--not forgetting, of course, Kate's old black mammy,
Henny, who was as much a part of the fair lady's belongings when she
went afield as her ostrich-plume fan, her white gloves, or the wee
slippers that covered her enchanting feet.
Every detail of harness, wheel, and brake--even the horn itself--had
passed under the colonel's personal supervision; Matthew on the box
straight as a hitching-post and bursting with pride, reins gathered,
whip balanced, the leaders steady and the wheel horses in line. Then the
word had been given, and away they had swept round the circle and so on
down the long driveway to the outer gate and Kennedy Square. Ten miles
an hour were the colonel's orders and ten miles an hour must Matthew
make, including the loading and unloading of his fair passenger and her
companions, or there would be the devil to pay on his return.
And the inside of the house offered no less a welcome. Drawn up in the
wide hall, under the direct command of old Alec, the head butler, were
the house servants;--mulatto maids in caps, snuff-colored second butlers
in livery, jet-black mammies in new bandannas and white aprons--all in a
flutter of excitement, and each one determined to get the first glimpse
of Marse Harry's young lady, no matter at what risk.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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