A Biographical Sketch of the Life and Character of Joseph Charless | Page 8

prevented display and revelry; but, besides this sad event, my father
had become greatly reduced in circumstances, and could afford no
better preparations for the wedding of his child than such as could be
made at home. Evergreens, provided by my little brothers, and
festooned with flowers by my sisters, set off to great advantage the
transparent white curtains, and gave a look of freshness and gaiety to
our neat, but plain parlor; and the cake, with its plain icing, showed
more than the confectioner's skill in its whiteness and flavor.
The circle of Mr. Charless' own immediate family, and a few friends he
wished to invite, with some of our own, composed the company. And,
since I am dealing in minutiae, I will tell you how the bride was
dressed. She wore a plain, white satin dress, (made by herself), trimmed
about the waist and sleeves with crape-lisse, which gave a becoming
softness to the complexion of the arms and neck, which were bare. A
simple wreath of white flowers entwined in her black hair, without veil,
laces or ornaments, (save the pearls which were the marriage gift of her
betrothed), completed her toilet. The graceful and talented Dr. Potts
(Mr. then) performed the marriage ceremony, saying, "what God hath
joined together, let not man put asunder."

My father, who had always been in comfortable circumstances, had,
however, never been rich; and, notwithstanding he had been called to
encounter many untoward events in life, we had never known what it
was to want, until we came to St. Louis. This last move, which was
fraught with brilliant hopes, in a monetary point of view, proved most
disastrous, and, in a few short months, his little all of earthly goods was
gone, and his faithful, loving help-meet laid away to sleep in the cold
earth, and he, himself, declining in health, depressed and discouraged.
Our new home was a sad place, and it was joyous, too; for young hearts
were there throbbing with pleasurable emotions, which sorrow and
disappointment, though they checked, could not destroy. And young
heads were there, big with the future; and Hope, which could not be hid
by the darkness that surrounded us, sat enthroned as a queen, ever
pointing us to the beautiful castle in the distant mist, and by her reflex
influence coloring even the dreary present with her rainbow-tints.
A few days after our marriage we were received, as members of the
family, at the house of my husband's parents. Upon our arrival there,
we found the house brilliantly illuminated, for "Joseph was coming
home with his bride," and the old people must have a grand reception!
Everybody came that evening, and everybody called on the bride
afterwards. Next morning, however, some of the realities of life
commenced. We were late to breakfast, and, to my dismay, the
breakfast was over. I glanced at my husband, who seemed a little
embarrassed. But a cordial greeting from his mother, who was busy in
the adjoining room "ridding up," and an affectionate kiss from his sister
(Mrs. Wahrendorff), who immediately advanced upon our entrance into
the room, made things a little more pleasant. We sat down together, and
alone. Hot batter-cakes, etc., which were covered up near the fire, were
soon placed upon the table, by the servant, and our plain, old-fashioned
mother (who was no woman for nonsense) very unceremoniously told
me to "pour out the coffee." What a downfall for a bride!
But this was not all. Upon my return to my room, after the departure of
Mr. Charless to the store, I found that it was just as we had left it, and
not cleaned and put in order, as I supposed it would have been. Mrs.

Wahrendorff followed me, and offered (smiling) to assist me in making
my bed, which I courteously accepted; and, finding that I was to be my
own chamber-maid, I asked for a broom, which she sent to me. How
long I had had that broom in hand I do not remember, but, while
standing in the middle of the room, leaning on its handle, absorbed in
rather disagreeable reflections, (all of which I might have been saved if
I had known then, as I do now, that no disrespect was intended by these
stranger relations), I happened to look out of the window, down into the
street, when what should I see but the uplifted countenance of my
husband, beaming with happiness and joy. Our eyes met, and, in a few
moments, he entered the apartment, which had been very prettily fitted
up, expressly for us. There was a shade of mortification on his
whole-souled face, mingled with a playful humor, as he said: "Has
mother put you to work already?" A kind embrace, with "I must make