Turkish Wedding
Grand Hotel Hungaria
Budapest (Hongrie)
Burger & Wonke directeurs
Mrs. R. W. Chandler
Box 198
Enfield, Massachusettes
Sallie dearest:
They got the bridge repaired and trains running last Friday, and although we had decided to go by the Black Sea, we changed at the last minute and took the Orient Express, which is a splendid train – private compartments, comfortable berths and a toilet room connected with each one. We left Constantinople at five in the evening, passing through Adrainople, Sophia, and Belgrade, reaching here this morning after two nights and a day.
The Hotel here is beautiful, said to be the best in Europe, so I think we shall enjoy the city – a sense of “well being” cheers one up a lot, doesn’t it?
I think I told Shang I had been invited to a wedding, hadn’t I? Well, we went. Mrs. Bowen was a great friend of the Bride’s mother, who invited her and as a great favor she asked if she might bring me. It is a rare thing, as foreigners are almost never admitted, and we were the only ones there. It was a very grand affair. The family is very wealthy and have a beautiful house, so there were many women there, and all gorgeously dressed – not veiled of course, and weighed down with jewels.
The bride was dressed in green, sparkly material and her hair, which hung down her back, was decorated with bunches of real silver tinsel the same length as her hair. At the appointed time, two o’clock, she walked down to the door of the house where she met her husband-to-be (seeing him for the first time in her life). He raised the veil from her face, and arm in arm they walked up the stairs to a room, where was a seat on a raised platform covered with beautiful rugs. Here she sat down, and he left her, not to see her again till that night.
This is the sum total of the marriage ceremony in Turkey! The important part taking place at the time of the engagement, when her parents and his send “witnesses” who talk things over and go through a ceremony with a priest, but the real bride and groom are not there.
While the groom is waiting at the door for her to come down, a large crowd of uninvited outsiders collect, and when he finally enters the door, they all follow and at the top of the stairs he stops for an instant and showers handfuls of small silver money all around for them to gather up, and this of course causes much excitement and a grand scramble among the poorer people. They were in the customary black, loose, street dress, deeply veiled and made a picturesque contrast to the brilliant costumes of the others. We all shook hands with the bride after this, and had an elaborate lunch – course after course of rich Turkish food, ending up with a dish of rice peculiar to the occasion, very sweet and colored yellow with saffron. Rich and poor alike always have this at a wedding feast, but never any other time.
I was sorry father couldn’t see it, and the other things I went to, but not a man is ever present, except a few eunuchs, and even at the wedding the groom – as you see – was there for only a few minutes.
We were shown the bridal chamber, where the bed was covered with a cloth of gold spread and everything else equally elaborate, but out of place to our minds. There was one fascinating Turkish woman who spoke a little English, and she stayed with me all the time. They all seem so cordial and anxious to please. Several whom I had met before, even though they couldn’t speak English, would take me by the hand and show me things they thought might be interesting.
Father felt wretchedly nearly all the time we were in Con. And lived most of the time on toast and tea, but is better now although the slightest thing, even an extra cup of coffee, seems to knock him out again. I think, though, now that he has something new to interest him, he’ll soon be all right.
No, Angel dear, I can’t be married probably till some time in January as Lover doesn’t get home till about New Years Day, unless he is suddenly ordered to Mexico as any of them might be, any minute – in which case I don’t know what would happen. I think I told you about his being put on Major Pierce’s staff, which is a great honor, but he didn’t really want it, as it upsets his plans for home. A long tale about orders that an officer must be with his troops two consecutive years out of every six, which I will explain to you at home some time. So this staff business knocks out the Annapolis scheme. In Baguio, you see, he was on a special detail.
Now his idea is to go to San Francisco for the fair. They detail a certain number of officers for duty there, and as it is of course a very much sought for post, many have applied and Lover may have no [show] at all. Although the War Department is inclined to be more lenient with men home from foreign service than with those already in the States. So that is one item in his favor. Then stay there as long as the fair lasts. I suppose it will be the best part of the year, and if possible after that, go back to China. He thinks it a good place to get in as much foreign service as possible while we are both young, and we can live much better there on the same money than at home. All these dreams may, and possibly will, go up in smoke, but I’m just telling them to you anyhow.
As for my wedding, I can’t get any farther than inviting the minister for lunch with you and Shang and father. He can then marry us, and we leave calmly and serenely on the four o’clock train. I have planned various kinds, as you know, but never hit on January as my ideal month so haven’t as yet many ideas. Lover has engaged dozens of ushers and best men, etc. who have promised to be there, so I don’t know how it will come out in the end. Perhaps you can suggest the right thing.
That letter you enclosed in your last letter to me was from that attractive man I knew in the South Sea Islands. I thought he had given up hopes, but find I must write and tell him I am already a staid and married woman. Such screamingly funny letters from Esther Johnston. She is certainly one of the cleverest girls I ever knew – is now writing moving picture scenarios, and hopes ere long to make her fortune.
Bushels of love,
Alice
April 5, 1914
Am having a beautiful time speaking German, and hope to improve a lot.
Oud Artiste
Hotel Bristol
Proprrs J. Djirah & G. Hadjaras
Constantinople
Chauffage Central, Ascenseur, Lumiere Electrique
Telephone 501
Constantinople, le April 1, 1914
Shang dear:
Here’s hoping that you may have many, many happy returns of this glorious day. We shall think of you especially hard all day today and send lots of “mental telepathies” of love.
Sallie’s letter came yesterday and quite thrilled me as it took only two weeks to come, ten days to London and four here. It is the nearest we’ve been for nearly two years!
I am more enthusiastic, or I should say reconciled, to this place than I was in my last letter, and am ashamed of myself for grumbling so but there’s no getting around it. I always have hated a city, and am afraid I always shall.
Friday is certainly one of THE days to be here as it is then the Sultan goes to church – a most complicated performance with elaborate preparations. We had with us the consul’s “kavass” or body guard who is a most impressive creature in voluminous blue broadcloth trousers pushed up nearly to the knee with high gold embroidered leggings, miles of gold lace on his coat and shoulder pieces flapping nearly to the ground, red fez with our crest in gold, silver sword, pistol, whips to clear the way. He feels the dignity of his position, always walking a few steps in front of us, and the crowds are duly impressed so whenever we have him I feel quite like the Queen of England. But to go back to my story-
We stood inside the courtyard of the Mosque, where the troops were lining up, private guards inside, then police, then infantry, cavalry and the lancers in their gay uniforms and on their wonderful Arab steeds at the rear – thousands of soldiers were lined up along the street from the mosque to the palace as the sultan is terrified all the time of being murdered as has been the fate of so many. Fresh sand was spread over the road, then red carpets over which marched a big band in bright uniforms banging out wierd Turkish music. After them came high officials, royalties, etc. and finally Mohamed V himself looking pale and dissipated in a gold bedecked carriage drawn by the most beautiful prancing horses I’ve ever seen. Several of his wives were at the side in other carriages waiting and after he walked slowly up the steps they followed and then it was all over. This is the only time he ever dares bridge out of his palace.
I don’t know whether you know much of Turkish history past or present. Anyhow I was grossly ignorant, and have been reading some very good books which give many interesting things. Turkey’s whole existence has been a dreadful tangle full of more tragedies, crimes, romances and struggles than you ever dreamed of. This morning we visited a mausoleum where is the tomb of a Sultan, and encircling it are the tombs of his twenty six sons and eighteen daughters, whom he murdered for fear they might kill him in order to gain the throne.
Have you ever heard of Robert College? Started by an American for boys. It is a fine place, half an hour up the Bosphorus. Our consul lives near there, and on Sunday we went to church at the College an then to lunch with him. There is a good sized colony of Americans living there, and they are all very much interested in their work and doing a great deal for the “new Turk”. We had tea with some other friends, and then went to a concert in their auditorium, where we heard their beautiful new pipe organ, a recent present from a New York man, and whom should I see there but a Miss Anderson (now Mrs. Baker) who was teaching German my first year at Penn Hall. Wasn’t that funny? She knew me right away, and we had a nice little chat, and she is coming to see me some time soon.
There is such a charming American woman who has lived here thirty years, Mrs. Bowen, who has been lovely to me. She knows many Turkish women and has some dear friends among them, so with her I have had opportunities that very few people have, and I could never have had otherwise.
Yesterday she took me to a harem where the hostess, who was the first and is still the leading authoress of Turkey, was giving a musical. There were about 20 Turkish women there, all beautifully dressed and the one who played the “oud” (rather like a big mandolin) is one of the two “artistes” in the country on this instrument. She played and sang very well. They were all very interesting and quite informal – would talk during the music, and if particularly inspired would get up and dance a few steps- not a bit self conscious and enjoying the fun like children.
We of course had the inevitable little cup of Turkish coffee periodically and later quantities of candies, cakes and all kinds of sweets, which they simply stuffed and reveled in. The custom here demands that one can’t leave until your hostess dismisses you, so we all sat by till she rose and said something to the effect that, “It was so sweet of you all to come” with which we bid adieu (they bow very low and touch their forehead with their hand, making a grand flourish) and departed.
Father hasn’t been feeling very well – a few evenings ago had a bad fainting spell, but is better now, although still a little shaky. We felt we had plenty of time here, so were sight seeing very leisurely, and as is always the case when we slow down, he was the worst for it. You know how when he comes home and has nothing to do he invariably is knocked out. Then, too, the last week has been bitter cold (comparatively, since we are just from the tropics) and I think that makes him feel badly. They usually have snow here this time of the year, but none since we’ve come, although it continually feels like it – rain and raw winds every day.
I believe I’ve declined five thousand invitations to tea lately, and shall be glad to get away where no one knows us. The trouble is the Danube has washed away a bridge just before Belgrade, so the Orient Express can’t run for a couple of weeks, and I don’t know how we’re going to get out of the place. We don’t want to go back by Athens to Brindisi, so may go up to the Black Sea, cross it – and it’s desperately rough this month – and then take a train from there to Budapest.
Saw in a paper not long ago that Jack London had been pronounced the best dancer in Washington.
It sounds good to hear you are ordering seeds and planning the garden. Count me in on any kind of work, and you may beat me to keep me at it, for I’m longing to have to do something.
Oceans of love,
Alice
Elevator and Electric Lights!
Hotel Bristol
Proprrs J. Djirah & G. Hadjaras
Constantinople
Chauffage Central, Ascenseur, Lumiere Electrique
Telephone 501
Constantinople, le March 24, 1914
Sallie dearest:
We found lots of mail waiting for us here – a letter to father and one to me from you, which cheered me up a lot. Just the other day I was thinking of what I would do when I got home. I’ve never been there long enough to really get interested in carrying out any plans or doing anything really worth while, so I resolved to do anything I was asked to. I mean in the way of helping to train the youngsters for Christmas, etc. I’ve always backed out before, but I’ve decided it’s best not to. So suppose the Women’s Club business comes under that heading, and if you think I can do what they want me to, all right. I accept the honor in fear and trembling. Next summer, Angel dear, in fact all the rest of my life with you I’m going to lean entirely on you, and whatever you say goes, so don’t bother to ask my opinion about anything. Just judge for yourself, and be sure I’ll be of the same mind.
It’s dreadful to make a reputation for oneself, and then have to live up to it. I seem to always impress people as being awfully independent – especially did Mrs. Chandler think so – and the result was that I had to take the lead in everything, manage and arrange all our affairs, and decide every question. I suppose it is because most dependent people will look for help and support from anyone or anything, while I center all my weight on you.
You are the only one to whom I can give myself up completely, and know that my soul would be safer with you than even myself. I have thought for myself and have had my own way undisputed so long that I’m dead tired of it, and think it will be a good thing for me to walk the chalk line a while. So I’m at you feet after June 12th to do your bidding whatever it may be.
Such a lovely letter from Mary came in this mail with the picture of her and Sara, who is perfectly adorable, and I’m all the more crazy to see her – oh! she is sweet. They are here on my desk now, and Mary looks as happy as a queen. Mrs. Wiegenstein just sent us such a cute picture of [Don] taken in his little baseball suit. He is two and a half years old now, and is a perfect whale. Another letter was from Mrs. Farrow begging us to visit them before they left in April, but it is quite out of the question, as we are planning to be there not before early May. I am so sorry, for I should love to see them all again, and should like to have had father know them and see their beautiful home.
Lover is not only having his French tutor, but he and a Frenchman have taken an apartment together, and are going to keep house. They have excellent servants and are very cozy and much happier than boarding. They speak French all the time, so I suppose he will land home with quite an accent. He’ll have to come down to earth though, before he reaches me, for I hate anything French – accent, language, customs, manners, people and all! And love the English, whom he heartily dislikes.
I wonder if you know that Capt. Fullam is now in Annapolis, Superintendent of the Naval Academy. There are loads of Navy people spending the winter in Rome, Florence, etc. whom father hopes to see, if we happen to go to Italy – which I doubt, unless it is very cold in Vienna.
I hate to seem blasé and very much traveled, but to you I must say that the Orient has spoiled me for Europe, although I shall try not to appear so to others. I was in just this same frame of mind ten years ago when we came to Italy from China. There, as in all those Eastern countries, the people are happy or at least determined to make the best of their lot, while here there is always fighting, noise, horses falling and the drivers beating them, fast women and dissipated men. Apparently everyone struggling against each other and all in vain. Then, too, I think no clothes in the world look so disgusting when they are ragged and dirty as ours or Europeans. Of course in the tropics the people wear so few that they are almost always at least decent, but even in China and Manchuria and Japan the very lowest class look far superior to the poverty stricken around here.
This morning we visited the famous Mosque of St. Sophia, and it is certainly well worth seeing, and one that I shall never forget. The hotels here are very poor, considering the size and importance of Constantinople, but I suppose better ones will come in time. The harbor and entrance here are beautiful – the most imposing I’ve ever seen and I think surpass the much-talked-of Sydney harbor.
Goodnight. I love you bushels, and here’s a kiss.
Alice
A Funny Thing Happened in Jerusalem
Khedivial Mail Line
Greece-Turkey Service
K.M.S. Osmanieh
March 22, 1914
Angel dear:
We hope to reach Constantinople this afternoon, where there will be mail from you I hope, but we can’t get it till tomorrow as the Consulate will be closed on Sunday.
We’ve been very fortunate this whole week in having quite smooth weather, for all around here it is generally bad and frequently the steamers can’t land, but have to carry their passengers on to the next port.
Athens of course we found wonderful, and I agree more strongly than ever with all who say Grecian architecture excels all others. Even the ruins are beautiful, and the whole place is most interesting.
We spent a day in Smyrna, but there is little there to see except some ancient Roman aqueducts, and of course all the figs and packing houses.
Such a funny thing happened in Jerusalem. The consul there is an ex-West Point man and would have graduated in Lover’s class, but left the year before to go into the consular service. He asked me if I knew any 1908 men there, and mentioned a lot in Panama and TienTsin I know, and finally hit upon Lover. I replied in a disinterested, indifferent way that I had met him in the Phillipines, and then he launched forth into quite a discourse saying he was a sort of paragon and all kinds of nice things about him – fortunately – for if he had said things that weren’t so nice, it would have been rather embarrassing when he found out the truth. He showed me lots of pictures (class, athletics, etc.) of him, and I never gave him a hint even that I knew him very well. He was living at the same hotel, so we saw him all the time and he was awfully good to us.
It is getting colder now every day as we get farther north, but I love it. Father is crazy about playing “Rum” and wants me to play with him all the time.
Oceans of love,
Alice
Lately I’ve Put my Faith in Camels
Mena House Hotel
Pyramids, Cairo
Telegrams,
“Mena, Cairo”.
Dear Angel:
We have now experienced all that goes with desert life, and I like it less every minute, or rather dislike it more. Suppose father told you about the hot wind from the desert we had for two days before leaving Assouan, where everyone simply shut themselves up tight in the hotel. I finally got restless and decided I must set forth for a little walk, but couldn’t stand it for long. I felt just as though I were walking through an oven, and there was hardly a soul on the streets. Even the animals were all in the river trying to keep cool.
Coming down in the boat we had a dreadful sand storm, and it has been raging ever since we reached here. They usually last three, six, or nine days and we are all hoping this one will wear itself out tonight. It’s quieter out now, and my room boy told me the worst was over. All the windows and doors are shut tight, but even then the sand shifts in and the air is filled with dust.
We are staying out here now, literally under the shadows of the Pyramids and every evening walk over to sit by the Sphinx and watch the glorious shades of the sand and distant mountains at sun set. This is a lovely hotel. Lots of English people come here for the winter, and play golf and tennis and gaze at the Pyramids. Tomorrow we are going on an all day trip by camel across the desert to Sakarrah, where there are some wonderful old tombs.
You say you hope I have got everything I want. I suppose you’ll be surprised and ashamed of me for growing so indifferent, but I haven’t bought a thing since India, and then got only some inexpensive jewelry for fancy dress balls. The very sight of a shop, especially filled with all the trash these are, fairly makes me ill, and I never even look inside anymore. Sometimes when one of these insolent natives stands out in front and urges me to “have a look”, I feel as though I could kill him and never feel a shiver – oh! They are so tiresome, and I’m so “fed-up” with it all.
I really have nothing in my trunks except a lot of old clothes, and suppose when I get home I’ll regret missing all my opportunities, but then I think of the junk up in the third floor that came from “furrin” parts and I’m thankful I shan’t add to the collection. I feel too that when I have a house of my own, I shall want everything so strictly American that it will look like one of those Gimble ads. for a 59 piece set of china or golden oak parlor set. However when I reach Europe I hope I’ll be more enthusiastic, but even then don’t know of anything I want. If there is anything that you or Shang saw last summer and have since wished for, do tell me and I should love to get it. Giving vent to my feelings so forcefully as I just have wasn’t very tactful coming before my offer to get you the things, but you know what I mean. The things you would want in Europe are far different from these so-called curiosities that claim everyone’s attention here.
I did manage to get some clothes though. You see, I’ve been wearing nothing but white for so long and had nothing else, so got a suit, plain; a dark blue satin afternoon dress that I like immensely, and a simple little beaded pink chiffon evening dress trimmed with blue. The styles are so awe-inspiring and ridiculous, I should be ashamed of myself if I attempted keeping up with them, so I’m quite content with very simple affairs.
There are two very quaint English maiden ladies stopping here whom we were with several times in India. They are most amusing, and don’t seem to mind my laughing at them. It was so nice to meet them here again.
Did I tell you that the Gillis’s have gone to Con. (I’ll be using Constantinople such a lot from now on that I must abbreviate it) and we shall meet them there the last of this month. It seems so queer without them, for we were like one family. I miss them dreadfully.
Oh! Sallie, when I see such a lot of horrid men and again such a lot of husbands in whom I can’t see one grain of attractiveness, I feel sorry that their wives can’t have a man like Lover to love. This, I know, sounds silly and “what they all say”. Also since I feel that he must seem loveable to almost everyone, but I really do feel that way more strongly every day. Then I try, as a disinterested outsider, to compare him with other men, and he always outranks them to such an absurd degree that it isn’t worth thinking about. Oh! I do hope you’ll approve of him and not only be willing, for me to marry him, but be really eager for me to.
Mr. Petrie bought a parrot today. Imagine lugging it around and all the way to England. It’s guaranteed to speak Arabic, French and English, but hasn’t uttered a sound since they got it.
I almost forgot to tell you how expert I am on a camel – can ride alone without a boy, only one rein with which I can now skillfully steer him around the narrow streets and on the desert keep him on a gallop or trot. Father too is fine on his, but I never thought I should be so brave. They growl and gurgle in a most terrifying way, but never stumble and fall the way every donkey I’ve been [on] has done. So lately I’ve put my faith in camels.
We sail on the 8th for Jaffa and go by train from there to Jerusalem.
Oceans of love,
Alice
March 6, 1914
