Courtship and Marriage in Turkey, 1911
Early marriage is the rule among the Turks. The patriarchal customs render a new home for the young couple unnecessary. There is a tendency, however, to increase the age. Formerly…
Location: Turkey
Note: This article has been excerpted from a larger work in the public domain and shared here due to its historical value. It may contain outdated ideas and language that do not reflect TOTA’s opinions and beliefs.
From Turkey and the Turks by Z. Duckett Ferriman, 1911.
Early marriage is the rule among the Turks. The patriarchal customs render a new home for the young couple unnecessary. There is a tendency, however, to increase the age. Formerly eighteen for the bridegroom and fifteen for the bride was usual. Marriage is held in high honour. Every Turkish girl has a husband in view. Naturally, if she is pretty, the chances are greater and her choice larger, but it may be said that “old maids” are unknown.
A man who does not marry is looked at askance. The Prophet set the example by marrying ten widows and one maid. It is related of him that he said to a man who was unmarried that he was a brother of the devil.
The koolavooz is an important factor in matrimonial arrangements. It is her business to know all about the marriageable girls in a certain circle. If a mother has a son whom she thinks ought to marry, she inquires among her friends, but if without satisfactory result she has recourse to the koolavooz. Then she and her near relatives visit the harems where there is a possible bride.
There is a special name for them when on this quest. They are called geuridjis (“viewers"). The work is dear to the hearts of the ladies who undertake it, and the announcement of a visit from geuridjis naturally puts the harem in a flutter. The koolavooz accompanies them, and they are received with all honours. The two mothers are ceremoniously polite, and the time is passed in exchanging compliments until the damsel appears.
It is always the eldest daughter, if there are more than one, for the Turks, in common with the Greeks, are sticklers for marriage in order of seniority. Needless to say the young lady has made a careful toilette, and has left nothing undone in order to look her best. She kisses the hands of the visitors, offers them coffee, and waits until it has been consumed, being careful to preserve a modest and pleasing demeanour under the scrutiny of the geuridjis.
Then she vanishes, and the geuridjis, whatever may be their private opinion, congratulate her mother on the possession of such a treasure, and are equally laudatory in setting forth the good qualities of the suitor. These formal eulogiums are taken for what they are worth. It would be a breach of good manners to omit them. But if the young man's mother decides in her own mind that the match would be a suitable one, she mentions incidentally the amount of the nekyah, asks the girl's age, and the amount of her fortune, if she has any. This is an indication that the visit may have a result, and further particulars are discussed. But in any case custom demands that on departure mutual wishes should be expressed, that, if it is the will of Allah, the young people may come together.
Then the geuridjis hie themselves perhaps to another harem. When all the visits have been paid the geuridjis compare notes and balance opinions. The mother, who is, of course, the principal geuridji, forms her judgment thereupon, and when she reaches home unfolds her tale to her husband and her son. If a final selection is made, preliminaries are arranged, not by the families concerned, but by intermediaries.
The young lady is afforded an opportunity of seeing her suitor, out of doors of course, perhaps in the course of a drive. He cannot see her unveiled, but care is usually taken that he shall have a notion of what she is like. This does not seem to be always the case, however. I have heard of a bridegroom, the son of a high official at Constantinople, who was considerably mortified to discover at his wedding that his bride was a brunette, his taste inclining to blonde.
The fiction that neither party is aware of the other's neighbourhood is scrupulously kept up at this private view, and neither must betray the slightest sign of consciousness of observing or being observed. If both are pleased with the result, the gifts of betrothal follow. The bride receives from her suitor some toilet article, a jewel casket perhaps, and she sends him a jewel, a cigarette-case, or other object of personal use or adornment.
Then his mother visits the future bride, taking with her a piece of silk and a box of sweets. The silk, which must be red, is spread on the floor. The girl stands upon it, bows, and kisses the hand of her future mother-in-law, who is seated on the divan. The latter then hands her a sweetmeat, usually a sugared almond, which she bites in two. One half she keeps, the other is taken to her future husband. This is an earnest of their plighted troth.
Then the bridegroom's family send a sum of money to the bride's parents. This is called the aghirlik, and is understood to be a contribution towards the expenses of the wedding. A week later comes the legal marriage. The suitor and his father proceed to the bride's home, accompanied by an imam. The nekyah, which has been previously agreed upon, is stated and attested in documentary form. This is done in the selamlik, and the bridegroom stands up and proclaims his desire to marry the daughter of, mentioning the name of the bride's father. This he does three times.
Then the imam, accompanied by the bride's father, goes to the door communicating with the haremlik, behind which the bride is waiting. He asks three times if she is willing to marry, pronouncing the bridegroom's name, stating the amount of the nekyah. If the answer from behind the door is “Yes" each time to his thrice-repeated question, the imam returns to the selamlik, where the marriage contract is duly signed, sealed, and witnessed—there must be at least two witnesses—and the couple are man and wife.
This is the legal bond, but it may still be some time before the two are allowed to see each other. That only comes after the transfer of the bride from her father's roof to that of her husband. This is made the occasion of great ceremony, in which both families with their friends, and, to a certain extent, the public, take part. It is the wedding, the social function, apart from the legal marriage, in which the bride and bridegroom, and the bride's father, or nearest male relative if she has no father, alone participate, together with the imam.
The dughun or wedding festival is attended with more or less splendour, according to the means of the parties, but it is the peculiar pride of both the mothers, and the preparations take long, so that a considerable interval may elapse between the marriage and the wedding. A week before the date fixed, the wedding dress, with various accessories of the bridal array, are sent by the bridegroom to the bride*s house. This is made the occasion of a ceremony. The rest of the trousseau is provided by the bride's parents, also the bedding and house-hold linen, kitchen utensils, and the furniture for two rooms at least.
The dughun begins on a Monday. Relatives and friends assemble at the bride's house to escort the trousseau and plenishing to the new home. It is customary for the porters who carry it to receive, in addition to their fee, a chevreh or napkin. The koolavooz again appears on the scene. She is responsible for the safety of everything, and superintends the porters. It is a great day for her. The ladies follow—a wedding is their hearts' delight—and after the inevitable coffee and sweets they display the trousseau in the bridal chamber, which is adorned with gowns and every article of apparel. The wedding presents are arranged under glass shades, and over all is hung a canopy. So passes the first day of the dughun.
On the Tuesday takes place the ceremonial bathing of the bride, who has hitherto taken no part in the festival. She is accompanied to the bath by her friends. In the calidarium, clad in her bath-robe, she is led three times round the central platform on which the ladies are seated, and kisses the hand of each. From this time until she dons her bridal attire the clothes she wears should be borrowed. I do not know if this is taken to be a sign of humility, or if it is supposed to act as a spell against envious Fate, but it is considered essential by those who hold to traditions.
On the Wednesday the lady relatives of the bridegroom visit the bride's parents. They are announced by the koolavoos, who is again to the fore. The bride's mother and her friends await them in the entrance hall, ranged on either side. The first opposite couple—one is the bride's mother herself and the other the next important person in the company—advance, each placing a hand under an arm of the bridegroom's mother, so she is assisted upstairs. The next couple advance and do the like to the next guest, and so on. The thing is done with the precision of drill, but the Turks are past masters in these ceremonial acts of politeness. As a mark of respect the act is general, as, for example, in assisting any one into a carriage or a caique. It is merely a gesture, and is an embarrassment rather than an aid, but it must not be omitted.
The guests are ushered into a separate apartment, for the two families must not mingle on this day. The bride only receives the guests. She comes into the room supported by two matrons, who must only have been once married, and kisses the hands of all the party, beginning with her mother-in-law. Meanwhile coffee and cigarettes have been served, and then come the inevitable sweets. The damsel, now a bride indeed, no longer stands before her mother-in-law, but takes place beside her on the divan. Then comes a curious little ceremony. The latter lady transfers from her own mouth to that of her daughter-in-law a morsel of sugar-stick. This is a token that none but sweet words shall pass between them.
Music and dancing follow. For those who are not conversant with Oriental manners it may be well to state that the dancing is not done by the guests, but by hired dancing-girls. When the company leave, the bride conducts them to the door. She alone is hostess on this occasion, in the home which will be hers no longer. As they depart the guests throw over her a shower of small coins. These are scrambled for by beggars and street urchins, who are quick to scent a wedding. But the day is not finished.
The guests are bidden to return in the evening to the khena. The children are a conspicuous feature at this. Holding each a taper, they are led through the garden by the bride, winding through the paths, a serpentine procession of twinkling lights, moving to the sound of the castanets and the wild rhythm of the song of the gipsy girls who are hired for the occasion. Returning to the house, the bride sits on a stool on a pile of cushions in the middle of the reception-room, holding her left arm across her brow whilst her mother-in-law covers the fingers of her right hand with henna paste, finishing by sticking on it a gold coin, an example which is followed by her friends. The hand is wrapped in silk and held across her face, while the left hand is treated in similar fashion by her mother and her friends. Then comes the turn of the toes, after which the bride is allowed to rest until the henna has stained her fingers and toes to the approved tint of red-orange.
On the Thursday the bride quits the home of her childhood for one as yet untried. No guests come to the house. The last moments are with her family. Father, mother, sisters, and brothers, if there are any, gather round her. There are red eyes and wet cheeks when her father girds her with the maiden zone. It is a touching ceremony. She falls at his feet and kisses his hands. He raises and embraces her, and gives her his blessing. Outside there is noisy joy. The wedding procession is preceded by music. The ladies are in carriages and the men on horseback, and the whole of the street population of the quarter bring up the rear.
The bridegroom meets her at the door of the haremlik in her new home, leads her through the crowd of assembled ladies, and places her in the seat of honour in the nuptial chamber. He does not see her face the while. Only when he has rejoined the male guests in the Selamlik is her veil raised, and she is on view to the invited throng, and to a good many more who are not invited, for at weddings there is more or less an open house for all the neighbours, and few are the women who can resist the temptation to look upon a new bride.
The latter can only be sustained through the ordeal by the consciousness of her own importance. She has to sit like an image tricked out in the stiff finery of an idol. Her eyebrows are “enriched" by black pigment which joins them in twin arches. Her eyelids are adumbrated with surme, to give softness and languor to the eyes. Her cheeks are adorned with specks of tinsel, but at a wedding of the class described the tinsel is replaced by diamonds stuck on with gum. In the case of the well-to-do, these are gifts of relatives. But among those who cannot afford to purchase them, diamonds are obtained on loan, and a certain class of jewellers derive an income by hiring out brilliants for this purpose.
The parish imam, who is always one of the men guests in the selamlik, at some preconcerted time in the evening, invokes a blessing on the newly married pair. This is a signal for the bridegroom to seek his bride. He hurries to the door of the haremlik. There is a reason for his haste, for it is a time-honoured custom for his friends not only to pelt him with old shoes, but to drub him soundly, and their whacks are not always light.
He is met by the koolavooz, who leads him to the nuptial chamber, from which the lady guests have departed. The bride rises and kisses his hand. Then comes the most beautiful fragment of ceremony in the whole of the long wedding festivities. Her veil of crimson silk is spread on the floor. Her husband kneels upon it and offers a prayer, whilst she stands on its edge. It is worthy of remark that this and the invoking of the blessing by the imam in the selamlik are the only rites of a religious character which are introduced into the protracted formalities of a Turkish marriage.
At the signing of the contract the imam acts only in his legal capacity. As stated in a previous chapter, the idea of a sacrament does not enter into the matrimonial relation. Bride and bridegroom then sit side by side on the divan, and it is the office of the koolavooz to show them their faces, side by side, in a mirror. She then brings them coffee and proceeds to prepare their supper. This cannot be served until the bride has spoken to her husband. Hitherto she has not uttered a word, but once a word vouchsafed—and this has sometimes to be extracted by stratagem, for the bride is advised to be coy—the repast is called for.
The next day they receive presents from the bridegroom's family, and guests both in haremlik and selamlik are offered a banquet which is called patcha, from the name of the dish specially served to the newly married pair. Patcha is none other than the homely fare known to Londoners as sheep's trotters, a very popular viand in Turkey. This is not the end, for the haremlik is given up to festivity during the two following days, when the bride, arrayed and sitting in state, receives all the women friends, matrons and maids, of both families.
Thus, a Turkish wedding is a formidable affair and an expensive one. If the bride is a widow or a divorced woman, the festivities are of a much more restricted character, and in some cases are dispensed with. At the marriage of a slave, even though she is freed by the act, there is nothing but the legal formalities. As we have seen, many men formerly preferred to marry slaves for this reason among others.
A word must be said as to modern practices with regard to weddings. The street procession is a thing of the past among the upper classes of Constantinople. It is still the custom among the poor and in the provinces among the well-to-do. The other customs are in the main adhered to. I am assured on very good Turkish authority that at the present day the bridegroom often does not see the face of his bride before marriage, and never before the betrothal. For all that there are love matches. Young people get glimpses of each other, and fall in love, when both with the help of lady relatives—for match-making appeals to the hanum of every nation—bring off an engagement and a marriage. But it is still the general rule for elders to arrange the future of the juniors, and it will be long before the latter take matters entirely into their own hands.
Ferriman, Z. Duckett. Turkey and the Turks. James Pott & Co., 1911.
About TOTA
TOTA.world provides cultural information and sharing across the world to help you explore your Family’s Cultural History and create deep connections with the lives and cultures of your ancestors.
