The wedding-gifts have been formally presented and duly admired. Siamese wedding-gifts are few and simple. Many of the utensils in use among them are quite primitive in style—unglazed earthen pots for cooking purposes; brazen vessels, trays, cups and spoons or small ladles; heavy wooden buckets and baskets daubed within and without with pitch, used for carrying water; common porcelain bowls for holding their rice and vegetables at meals,—no knives, no forks, no spoons, such as young housekeepers need with us. As they have little that is ornamental in an ordinary home, the wedding-gifts are always useful articles.
MISSION HOUSE.
The afternoon is now far spent and the hum of many voices is somewhat subdued. The band strikes up a sort of wedding-march. The groom, attired in plum-colored silk p’anoong and a neatly-fitting white muslin jacket, rises, and, leaving the group, attended by his young friends, dressed in the same style, bare-legged and bare-headed, walks toward the neighboring house of the American missionary. At a respectful distance follow some of the matrons, aged women and maidens. Amid them, like a gay butterfly, dressed in a red and yellow silk waist-cloth, a brilliant green silk, tight-fitting jacket and a fire-colored silk scarf thrown gracefully over her shoulders, walks the young bride—no shoes or stockings, no hat nor veil to hide her pretty blushes. The guests all go up through the veranda into the house, where they are welcomed by the missionary. Chairs are offered, but many prefer to crouch on the floor, as they have never been elevated above it in all their lives. The Christian marriage that follows is a novel episode to many present. At a Siamese wedding the Buddhist priests come to the house and chant prayers for the benefit of the young couple. The parents of the bride and bridegroom and all the guests vie with each other in their attention to these priests, who receive gifts also. The young couple are copiously bathed with holy water, poured by the elders first on the head of the bridegroom, then on the head of the bride, pronouncing a blessing upon each. This of course necessitates a change of wet apparel for dry, usually more gay than the former, the fresh suit for the bridegroom being frequently presented him on a salver by a lad sent from the parents of the bride.
But to return to our young couple. After repeating with clasped hands their vows to love, cherish, honor and live with one another until death, the missionary pronounces the blessing and congratulations are offered by their friends. The parties then separate, and in like manner as they came to the house so they go back to their guests in the garden.
The feasting continues if this is a propitious day, closing in the evening. Oftentimes, however, the ceremonies are kept up until the third and fourth day. Soft eyes look love to eyes which dare not speak again, for the Siamese dames and grandames are lynx-eyed and the maidens are shy; yet Cupid will not be outwitted, and his darts fly thick and fast at such a feast. Still, the bridegroom must content himself with an occasional glance as Leang flits in and out among her guests. When the twilight has waned and the full clear moon transforms everything into silvery beauty, preparations are made for the torchlight procession to conduct the bridegroom and bride to the new home. You remember the parable of the Ten Virgins in the New Testament: “At midnight there was a cry made, Behold the bridegroom cometh!” After somewhat the same manner is this procession formed. The torches used are made of pitch rolled into small sticks about two feet long and wrapped round with the dried attap-leaf.
The groom’s attendants escort him with lighted torches to his new home, and at the same time a lad is despatched by the bride bearing a tray of the areca-nut, with all its concomitants, ready for chewing, tobacco, seri-leaf, red lime and soft wax for the lips. The happy man meets them at the door, and, placing the tray before them, invites them to partake.
After an interval two or three matrons, with Leang’s maiden attendants, light their torches, and the little bride, shy and trembling, but with her heart full of her happiness, is in her turn escorted to the little home, where the youthful husband, engaged in merry conversation with his friends, is impatiently awaiting her arrival.
All sit down in the veranda, the maidens apart from the men. The tray with the betel-nut is passed to them, and they all partake freely. Then, after more friendly chatting and some suitable exhortations from the matrons and the congratulations from all, the guests depart. Our youthful friends are left to themselves, and another Christian home adds its rays to the light which we hope will ere long cover Siam.