Poetic wedding vows heard worldwide
Out-of-the-ordinary 19th century weddings titillate readers, although one ‘‘silly’’ ceremony doesn’t impress.
It was a fine morning in Maben, Mississippi.
A young bride and groom, Bettie Johnson and James Davis, stood before town mayor and Judge Norman Moore, their wedding celebrant.
But they were nonplussed when Moore, known to be a bit eccentric, turned to the bridegroom and said: ‘‘Jim will you take Bet/ Without a regret/ To love and to cherish/ Till one of you perish/ And is laid ‘neath the sod/ So help you God?’’
The bridegroom replied in the affirmative. The poetic mayor next asked the bride: ‘‘Bet, will you take Jim/ And cling to him/ Both out and in/ Through thick and thin/ Holding him to your heart/ Until death do you part?’’
The bride blushed in consent, with modest bow, and Moore dismissed them, saying: ‘‘Through life’s eternal joy and strife/ I now pronounce you man and wife/ Go up life’s rugged hill/ Until you reach the level/ And then salute your bride/ You big but trusty devil.’’
And, added the New York correspondent for the London
Express: ‘‘Judge Moore charged the bridegroom no more than the regular fee.’’
This story was reprinted in the
Feilding Star of December 29, 1909. Weddings fascinated oldtime readers of newspapers and magazines, just as they do today – especially the bizarre and out-ofthe-ordinary.
The Manawatu¯ Herald , of Foxton, included this item on October 17, 1893: ‘‘Silver, golden and diamond weddings we have all heard of, but what designation should be applied to the 100th anniversary of a marriage?
Incredible as it may appear, in the month of May in the year 1793, Jean Szathmary of Zsombolyi, county of Torondal, Hungary, was married to a youthful bride, and they are both still living. Until recently they earned a meagre livelihood by their own labour.
‘‘They were aged people when the oldest villagers were boys and girls. The centenary has brought people from all parts of Hungary to look at them, and their gifts, as well as a small pension, will keep Jean Szathmary and his wife in comfort for the rest of their days.’’
The course of true love doesn’t always run smooth, even for royalty. On April 21, 1894, the Star reported the lavish wedding of Queen Victoria’s granddaughter, Princess Victoria Melita of Coburg, to the Grand Duke of Hesse. Unfortunately, Victoria was already in love with her ‘‘unsuitable’’ cousin, Grand Duke Kirill Vladimirovich of Russia. The princess’ arranged marriage was a failure, and she shocked the royal establishment by divorcing her husband in 1901 and marrying Kirill four years later.
On September 25, 1895, the Star explored a startling ‘‘oops’’ moment from a Christchurch wedding: ‘‘The bridegroom was middle-aged, hard-featured and bald. The best man was young, blond moustached, blue eyed and smiling.
‘‘When the knot was tied and it only remained for the groom to kiss the bride, he seemed unaware of what was expected of him and failed to come up to time, whereupon the best man chipped in and taking the blushing young bride to his bosom, imprinted a chaste salute on her ruby lips.
‘‘The elderly groom was for a moment staggered. Then recovering himself he planted a well-directed blow between the eyes of the presumptuous best man. The curtain fell on a tableau consisting of a weeping bride, with her sisters, cousins and aunts holding on to the coat tails of the infuriated Benedict, and trying to soothe his angry passions with soft words.’’
In 1898 the Manawatu¯ Herald noted that Nellie Smith had married David Patten, a Rongotea settler, in Palmerston North. The couple rode back to Mr Hickford’s boarding house for afternoon tea and that night the ‘‘tin band turned out in full force and were treated by the bride and bridegroom right royally. On returning home [the band] left all their instruments piled up at Mr Hickford’s door, which led him to say he will never support the band again.’’
Another wedding disruption, according to the Star on July 25, 1899, was caused by the minister himself. The heading of the article was ‘‘Low Necks at Weddings’’.
At a Baptist church in Jersey, ‘‘Lucille Osgoodsby, daughter of a famous New York lawyer, was married to Mr Muir Glover. The five bridesmaids arrived in decollete gowns, whereupon Dr Tichener, who officiated, protested against the... exhibition of female nudity.
‘‘The chief bridesmaid, Miss Mary Russell, of New York, refused the wraps which were offered, and the ceremony continued, the bride, however, being in an almost fainting condition.
‘‘It was one of the most fashionable weddings of the year – Miss Russell states she had wanted to introduce a new fashion.’’
An old rhyme about wedding colours contained the lines: ‘‘Married in brown, you’ll live out of town; married in pink, your spirits will sink; married in blue, love ever true; married in white, you’ve chosen aright.’’
The Star, in its April 22, 1886 issue, had run an article rather sourly entitled: ‘‘A Silly Wedding’’.
‘‘One of those surprising weddings, which could only take place in America, was celebrated in the city of Nero, Indianapolis, not many months ago. The bride was dressed in a robe made of leaves from the husks of maize, neatly sewn together with thread spun from nettle fibre.
‘‘The shoes were manufactured by the bride’s sister from oaten straw, while a third sister had knitted her stockings with feathers from the saddleback duck. The bridal veil was of white horsehair, in net work – very pretty. The bridegroom was clad after the fashion of a backwoodsman, in deerskins, which were beautifully dressed and coloured with dyes from peach blossoms.
‘‘The happy pair, at the conclusion of the marriage ceremony, started for the forest where they will pass the honeymoon in a cavern specially prepared for the auspicious occasion. These sorts of people would be locked up as lunatics in New Zealand.’’
Today, however, they’d probably fit right in as examples of sustainable ingenuity.