G. We are honest folks in trouble. Don't fear us, my friends, but bestow your hospitality on us. The sleet falls fast, our feet are all frozen, and we have come such a distance that our shoes are worn out.
The flaxdresser inquires sharply who they are, and receives various ridiculous answers. At length the besiegers say—
Grave-digger. Well, then, if you'll not listen to reason, we shall enter by force.
Flaxdresser. Try, if you like. We are strong enough not to fear you; and as you are insolent, we shall not answer you any more.
So saying, the flaxdresser slammed to the wicket with a bang, and went down a ladder into the room below. He then took the bride elect by the hand, and the young folks joining them, all fell to dancing and shouting gaily, whilst the matrons of the party sang with shrill voices, and amidst shouts of laughter, at the people outside, who were attempting the assault. The besiegers, on their side, pretended rage; they fired their pistols at the doors, set the dogs barking, rattled the shutters, thumped the walls, and uttered loud cries.
The garrison at last seemed to manifest some desire to capitulate; but required as a condition that the opposite party should sing a song. As soon as the song was begun, however, the besieged replied with the second line; and so long as they were able to do this, they were safe. The two antagonists were the best hands in the country for a song, and their stock seemed inexhaustible. Once or twice the flaxdresser made a wry face, frowned, and turned to the women with a disappointed look. The grave-digger sang something so old that his adversary had forgotten it, or perhaps had never known it; but instantly the good woman took up the burden of the song with a shrill voice, and helped their friend through his trouble. At length the party of the bride declared they would yield, provided the others offered her a present worthy of her. Thereupon began the song of the Wedding-gifts, to an air as solemn as a church psalm, the men outside singing bass in unison, and the women answering from within in falsetto. In twenty couplets at least the men enumerate all the wedding-presents, and the matrons at length consent that the door should be opened.
On this being arranged, the flaxdresser instantly drew the wooden spigot which fastened the door on the inside—the only fastening known in most of the dwellings in our village—and the bridegroom's band rushed in, but not without a combat, for the lads who garrisoned the place, even the old flaxdresser and the ancient village dames, considered it their duty to defend the hearth. The invaders were armed with a goose stuck upon a large iron spit, adorned with bouquets of straw and ribbons, and to plant this at the fire was to gain possession of the hearth. Every effort was of course made to attain this object. Now came a veritable battle, although the combatants did not come to actual blows, and fought without any anger or ill-will. But they pressed and pushed one another so closely, and there was so much emulation in the display of muscular power, that the results might have been more serious than they appeared amidst the singing and laughter. The poor old flaxdresser, who fought like a lion, was pinned to the wall, and squeezed until he could hardly get breath. More than one hero was rolled in the dust, more than one hand was withdrawn bleeding from an attack on the spit. These sports are dangerous, and in consequence of the occurrence of serious accidents, our peasants have resolved to drop them. The enormous iron spit was twisted like a screw before it was at length flung across the fire-irons, and the conquest achieved.
There was now no lack of talk and laughter. Each one exhibited the wounds he had received; but as they were in many cases given by the hand of a friend, nobody complained. The matrons cleaned the stone-floor, and order was re-established. The table was covered with pitchers of new wine. 'When they had all drunk together, clinking their glasses, and had taken breath, the bridegroom was led into the middle of the room; and, furnished with a ring, he had to undergo a new trial.
During the contest, the bride had been concealed, with three of her companions, by her mother, her godmother, and her aunts, who had seated the four young girls on a bench, in a corner of the room, and covered them with a large white cloth. The three girls had been selected of the same height as Marie; and this cloth veiling them from head to foot, it was impossible to distinguish one from another. The bridegroom was only allowed to touch them with the end of his switch, to point out which he guessed to be his bride. If wrong, he could not dance with the latter that evening, but only with the one he had selected in error.
The party then separated, to re-assemble at eight o'clock the next morning. At the appointed time, after a breakfast of milk-soup, well peppered to stimulate the appetite—for the nuptial-feast promised to be a rich one—all assembled in the farmyard. A journey of several miles had to be performed to obtain the nuptial benediction. Germain mounted the gray mare, which had been new shod and decked with ribbons for the occasion; the bride rode behind him; whilst his brother-in-law, Jacques, was mounted on the old gray, with the grandmother. The joyous cavalcade set out, escorted by the children on foot, who kept firing pistols and making the horses start. Mrs Maurice, the mother, seated with the children and the village fiddlers in a cart, opened the procession to the sounds of the little band of music.