Democratic Sentinel, Volume 5, Number 36, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 14 October 1881 — THE WEDDING MARCH. [ARTICLE]

THE WEDDING MARCH.

“No. 329—A Wedding March.” Such ■was the number and name of a picture in the Academy of a certain year which shall, for politic and personal reasons, be left undesignated. The picture was one of my painting ; and I, Reginald'Tracy, had been fortunate enough to attain three very important ends by its production. Firstly, it was deemed excellent enough by the Hanging Committee to be placed on the line, and it faced you in a very prominent manner as you entered Room No. 5. Secondly, this prominent position secured for my picture a large share of attention which resulted in its finding a purchaser almost as soon as the Exhibition doors opened. But thirdly, it served the actual purpose for which I painted it, and which led me to choose my subject. That purpose involved just the I least bit of romance; and although the ’ clever critics praised the picture, and even hinted that, “ Mr. Tracy had been singularly fortunate in his treatment of a somewhat unusual and difficult theme,” etc., not one of them so much as guessed that it was a picture with a purpose. As the sequel may serve to show, that purpose sprang from and ended in what I am pleased to call my little romance. It was a charming day, that on which I went to Rockhampton to sketch the water meadows, and to see my old friend, Dr. James Brooke—Jim, I generally called him—who had settled as a practitioner in that town. The whole place was steeped in sunlight; and the deep shadows cast by the old ..ouscs in the narrow streets by the waterside reminded one of nothing so much as the blackness of the shades in some old Dutch town, where Rembrandt must have learned the special art that bears the impress of his g. nius to-day. The old church of Rockhampton is a fine bit of Norman architecture. Rising architects declare that there are no purer pillars of that style, or better preserved arches, with their queer faces squeezed into the corners thereof, and which seem to impress the Rockhampton juveniles on Sundays quite as much as the service. ‘Passing through the churchyard, I found myself at last at the church. With little hope of finding the door open I lifted the latch, when at once it yielded to my touch. As I passed within the green baize doors within the porch, I heard the sound of the organ; so stealing quietly into the grateful shade and coolness of the church, I ensconced myself in the biggest pew I could find and listened. How soothing was the effect of the music and surroundings on that glorious day ! I could not see the player, who was concealed by the curtains in front of the organ-loft, but intuitively I guessed it was a lady who played. I imagined that only a woman’s delicate touch could have made that “ Kyrie ” speak in these tones; and there was more gentleness than power in the “Stal;at Mater ” into which the player glided. Then I remember the “Wedding March ” succeeded ; and after half an hour's private hearing of the masters, I quietly slipped out of church, once again into the g ad sunlight that played around the gravestones, and made the world so fair to .- ee.

After lunching at my hotel, the Red Lion, I went to see Dr. Jim. It appeared that the fair player of the church was a Miss Spalding, and the only daughter of a well-to-do and retired merchant who had settled at Rockhampton some eighteen months before; and Jim, I found, had been paying his addresses to the young lady. Her father had married for the second time and had thus given Miss Spaulding a stepmother. The old gentleman, as Jim called him, was an easy-going man kind-hearted in every way, generous to’ fault, and looked kindly enough on Dr. Jim’s suit. But as to Mrs. Spalding, Jim pronounced a decidedly unfavorable opinion. She was an ambitious, and as he expressed it, scheming woman, who thought that Nelly should look somewhat higher than Dr. Brooke of Rockhampton and that she should at least marry money—with which latter commodity Jim was, as a young doctor of com so, by no means over-burdened. Without notuadv discouraging Jim’s attentions, Mrs. Spalding made things decidedly unpleasant for the lovers. Mr., Spalding, good, easy man, was completely under the dominion of his wife. Hence, Jim confessed, he was in a somewhat unsettled state of mind. “You see. Regy,” said Jim, “Nelly will not disobey her parents in any way. That she cares for me she has confessed to me more than once. But when I press her to consent to bo married at on cd, and to make me happy, she won’t hear of it.’’ “My dear Jim,” I responded, in my new-found capacity of guide, counsellor and friend, “ she is not the first girl who has had to struggle between love and duty ; or at least what she conceives to be her duty. ” “She is so thoroughly conscientious,” replied Jim, “that! fear even to press her to take the step which would make me a happy man for life. When I ask her in my despair whether she wi'l ever choose between her step-mother’s wishes and my love, she implores me not to tempt her ; and so,” added Jim, “ here I am ; miserable as need be.” All this interested me exceedingly. She was evidently a girl of sterling worth and with a high sense of the duty she believed she owed to her parents’ wishes. I thought over Mister Jim’s love affair as I lay in bed that night, and came to the conclusion that the case was a difficult one. You can not always mould human minds to your own bent, and purpose by simply speaking. Hence I came to the conclusion that Miss Spalding’s love for my old friend ought to be tested and tried in some way. As my expe rience of human nature goes, there seems nothing like putting love, of all human emotions, to some rigid test. But how the test could be applied to the case in which I had thus been led to feel a special interest I knew not. I confessed as I rolled over to sleep that I did not see my way clear to help them. Little did I think that the morrow was to bring the means and the man. The man was Josiah Blagden, E quire, iron founder, of tho firm of Blagden & Co., of Birmingham and elsewhere ; the means was—my humble self. The day after my arrival at Rockhampton Jim proposed that I should drive with him on his morning round, and added he : •• We ll ca'l at Mount Grove on our way home.” Mount Grove was the residence of Mr. Spalding ; and two o’clock found us at the gate of a Very nice vjllq, residence, overlooking the river, and standing within its own nicely kept grounds, ’ '

We were ushered into the drawingroom, where we found assembled certain persons whom Jim had not expected tc see. Mr. Spalding received me courteously, as also did Mrs. Spalding. Miss Nelly greeted me most cordially, adding that she was much pleased to make the acquaintance of Dr. Brooke’s old friend of whom he so often spoke. In addition to the family circle of three, it was clear there were strangers present. These latter were Mr. Josiah Blagden and his sister. Mr. Blagden did not impress me favorably. He was a stout, florid-com-plexioned man, remarkable for the extreme breadth of his white waistcoat and for the profusion of jewelry displayed thereon.

“A safe man, my dear sir; a very safe man,” said Mr. Spalding to me at lunch. “Why, I suppose his turn-oyer is about half a million a year—the iron trade, you know,” added the old gentleman by way of explaining that Mr. Blagden was one of the metal-kings of England. “ Self-made man too,” sail Mr. Spalding ; “began life as a foundry-boy.” Brom what I saw of Mr. Blagden within the next few weeks, his origin could have been pretty accurately guessed from the manner in which he imparted the “foundry-boy’s” manners into the sphere in which his industry and success had led him. He was essentially a vulgar man, who bullied his sister, a meek, silent little weman, with a good heart and a kindly nature, as I discovered later on. As we drove home from lunch that day Jim was strangely depressed. I guessed his thoughts pretty accurately, for he burst out into a tirade against Mrs. Spalding on our arrival at home. “I shouldn’t wonder, Regy,” said he, “if that fellowßlagden has been invited down here as a suitor for Nelly. He’s a friend of Mrs. Spalding’s, I know, because she herself comes from the ‘ Black Country.’ ” Jim’s state of mind, from the moment he broached this theory, may be better imagined than described. For the next three weeks I am bound to say that his temper was well nigh unendurable. One evening at dinner at Mount Grove, I felt half afraid he was going to inflict personal chastisement upon Mr. B'agden: a feat I should have much rejoiced to have seen skillfully performed, after the iron master’s coarse invectives against the medical profession, which had been called forth during some argument concerning doctors’ fees. Nelly’s attitude toward Jim appeared to have undergone no perceptible change. She was loving and gentle as before ; but I fancied that Mrs. Spalding contrived dexterously to keep Miss Blagden and Nelly as frequently together as possible; and thus Jim’s tete-a-tetes were reduced to a miserable minimum. Worst of all, as Jim remarked to me one day, Nelly had confessed that her step mother had on more than one occasion hinted that Mr. Blagden’s visits and stay were not solely prompted by friendship to her parents. Mrs. Spalding was, in other words, a clever woman, playing a nice little game of diplomacy, and while keeping on the most friendly terms with Jim, was to my mind furthering her own aims and ideas of a matrimonial alliance for Nelly with the elderly iron-founder. I know that most of my readers will say that Miss Spalding should have settled the matter for herself, and have given Mr, Blagden to understand that his attentions were unwelcome and hopeless. But as I remarked before, we are not all cast in one mold ; and the most loving nature’s may sometimes be coerced bi what seems to be their duty, into selfsacrifice of the most unreasonable kind, and which can only entail misery in the end.

So things went on at Rockhampton, with diplomacy at Mount Grove, and despair at No. 14 High street, where Dr. James Brooke announced his willingness to relieve the afflicted dailv from ten tc eleven a. m., and from six to eight p. m. I had been sitting cogitating over mat ters one evening at the Red Lion—Jim having been called to a distant part ol his parish—when an idea, founded, 1 believe, on a quotation from an old French author, occurred to me. The quotation was to the effect that, “ when moral suasion fails from any cause tc change an opinion, it is lawful to appeal to the most trivial of our emotions.” Happy idea ! thought I. I shall see whether or not I can work it out to the advantage of Dr. James Brooke and—shall I add it?—to the confusion of Josiah. Blagdon, Enquire. My plans were then rapidly matured. Morning, noon and night finds me busy in the old church. lam hard at work on a canvas in which the interior of the edifice grows under my brush day by day. There are no sounds of the “Kyrie" now ; nor are the jubilant strains ol Mendelssohn heard, as on a bright sunny day not so far gone by. Nelly does not come to practice her old favorites as of yore. Blagden, I know, hates music; and painters, as he once expressed it—in shocking bad taste—are usually “a seedy lot.” I remember Mr. Josiah’s white vest and cable chain, with enough apnendages attached thereto to have set up a small jeweler in a thriving way of business. The aisle and galltry of the church are now complete in my picture. I paint it as I sit in the aisle ; in the distance you can see the altar and chancel; and the vicar, who looks in upon me occasionally, says it is as like as can be. He is curious, however, to know the nature of the figures I have sketched roughly in. There is a group passing down the aisle from the altar-rails where the vicar can still be seen at his post ; and there is a figure standing alone and solitary in a pew, as if facing the advancing party. The vicar cannot quite fathom the design. The church he can understand; but the meaning of the picture puzzles him. I bid him wait patiently for the solution of the mystery.

When my study of the church was completed, I went home to the Red Lion, and there I painted in my figures. There was little need for models, for my sketch-book was full of studies. Turning to my picture, now progressing rapidly, I find that there are heads of two elderly men, and there is a careful sketch of a young man’s face likewise. There is a fair girl’s face and a matronly countenance, and another face which seems not unlike that of Miss Blagden. At last, my task is completed. The picture is a mere “study,” but it is a careful study withal. The old church you recognize ata glance; the figures—well, we shall see. The vicar has been busily spreading a report that I have been painting pictures of the church, and there is curiosity to see them. I now propose that one fine day a very few of my Rockhampton friends shall comes to see my work. The circle is very select. I have invited only Mr. and Mrs. Spalding, the great Josiah, Miss Blagden and Jim. I contrive, with a diplomatic cunning for which 1 have not before given myself credit, that Nelly Spalding shall be admitted to a private view. She herself bps been all anxiety to see the picture, and I pretend that by great favor she shall see it before any one else. Mine host of Red Lion has prepared a nice little luncheon, even to some dry Pommery, which ‘ ‘the great Josiah ” —as I have been accustomed to call him, possibly from the magnitude of his waistcoats—says he dotes upon. I make a malicious and unkind but perfectly just mental suggestion that in early life “ the great Josiah ” was better acquainted with the merit of “ ’alf-and-’alf” than dry champagne. Mine host has done his best; and now I wait my guests. I feel nervous and excited; why, I can hardly tell; but I confess to myself that I shall be glad when my little symposium is over. Here at last. They troop up stairs into the large room where my luncheon is spread. Mr. Josiah is looking very large to-day. There is an air of jubilant triumph about him fts he bustles about Jfelly, assisting hcs in taking off he?

wraps and saying “ nothings ” which are anything but “soft,” as the great man expresses them. To me, his air is simply patronizing. Mrs. Spalding is gracious as usual; and Mr. Spalding seems to regard the near prospect of lunch with more evident satisfaction than he does the prospect of an artistic treat. Mr. Bladgen suggests we had better step in to see the picture—lunch has evidently its attraction for “ the great Josiah. But I tell him I wait Dr. Brooke, at which announcement he subsides. Then I sugguested to Miss Nelly that, with her mothers’s permission, she may now have the picture all to herself for a momentary peep. Mrs. Spalding, who is deep with Miss Bladgen in the mysteries of the manufacture of rhubarb-jam, readily consents. Nelly follows me into the room where my picture stands covered with a crimson cloth on my easel. I close the door and unveil it. Nelly glances at it for a moment; then growing deadly pale sinks half-fainting—not into my arms, but into those of Dr. James Brooke, who has most opportunely come upon the scene. In speechless astonishment he gazes at me, but he too seems as if he were going to repeat Nelly’s procedure as he glances at the picture. “For heaven’s sake, Regy,” says Jim in a hoarse voice, “ cover that picture up!” Nelly opened her eyes in a moment oi two, which seemed to me like an age. Jim had employed the interval in a fashion not unfamiliar to lovers, I believe. And when she did open her eyes, it was to clasp Jim around the neck, and her words were few but decided: “Jim, dear! I can never, never marry that man ! I will do whatever you wish me to. But oh ! they have tried me so !” What is it in my picture that has so perturbed the lovers, and brought Nelly Spalding to her senses ? Simply the interior of the old church once again. A ray of sunlight streaming through a chink in the stained window falls on the sad, pale, tearful face of a newly-made bride. The bride’s face is Nelly’s own ; and the pompous bridegroom is Josiah Blagden, the artistic treatment of whose white waistcoat and chain has cost me no end of pains. Behind bride and bridegroom comes the figures of Mr. and Mrs. Spalding; and in the dim distance the vicar is seen still standing within the altar rails. But the central figure after the bride herself is the young man, pale, motionless as a statue, who stands in a pew and whose ashy gaze is fixed on the bride. The face of the man in the pew is that of Jatnes Brooke. The picture tells its own story to Nelly Spalding. It places the possibility of the future before her eves as she has never dared to picture it to herself. It reflects in all its naked truth the fate to which through her indecision she may commit herself and Jim. And it tells its story so well that art conquers diplomacy in decision, and aids love in its triumph over the great Josiah himself. Footsteps on the stairs. I cover the picture again. Nelly stands beside Dr. Brooke ; her cheek is pale, and there are tears like dewdrops glistening in her eyes. The iron master looms in the doorway. He takes in the matter at a glance and frowns darkly ajt Jim and me. As soon as Mr. and Mrs. Spalding, who closely follow’Josiah, have entered the room, Nelly to my surprise walks quickly up. to her father and takes his hand. “ Father,” said she, with a tremulous yet decisive tone, “you know the message you brought me from Mr. Blagden tins morning ? Give him my answer now. Tell him that I am going to marry Dr. Brooke.”

Now, it is my opinion that, had the discarded Josiah at this moment held his tongue, he might hav'e got both Mr. and Mrs. Spalding to speak a word for him with-Nelly. But as it was he destroyed his own case at a blow. ‘ ‘ Message from me ? —and this is my answer!” he said in an angry voice. “Why, I care nowt— notvf," he repeated bitterly, “ about the matter. I guess it was the lass’s father and mother that wanted to marry Josiah Blagden’s money —perhaps they wanted some of it for themselves.” The rudeness and vulgarity which marked the man came out unmistakably as he said these words ; and taking his sister’s arm in his and casting a look of vindictive scorn at the doctor and myself, he walked out at the door with an ungainly strut which was meiw.t for dignity ; and we saw the great Josiah no more. Mrs. Spalding was especially cut up by the parting fling of Josiah, a« it was she who had manoeuvred the matter thus far. Mr. Spalding, on the other hqnd, burst into a jovial laugh, and taking his daughter’s hand, placed it in that of Dr. Brooke. After all had left the studio but. Mr. Spalding, the latter asked me to tell him in plain terms how I had brought this about—for he had no doubt I was at the bottom of it. I uncovered the picture, which Mr. Spalding simple, easyminded gentleman that he was—scrutinized with his double eye-glass, remarking to me that he did not quite understand it at all, but tlrat it was wonderfully clever, and that Josiah’s “ weskit was as like as life.” In six weeks thereafter’ I officiated as “best man ”at Jim’s marriage. As the organist pealed forth the jubilant strains of Mendelssohn, after the vicar’s benediction had been given, and Nelly, radiant and beautiful, passed. down the aisle on her husband’s arm, I could not help rejoicing in the success of what is now “No. 329—A Wedding March,’’ though the faces in the picture as exhibited are slightly disguised, and Mr. Josiah’s vest has been shorn of certain of its distinctive peculiarities. That is the romance which, as I told you at the outset, hangs round the picture which in the Academy catalogue was numbered “329—A Wedding March.”— Chambers' Journal.