Every Day Life on a Ceylon Cocoa Estate by Mary E. Steuart

FEBRUARY 14th. - Owing to ignorant noncompliance with some legal regulations, the marriage of our Appu could not take place on the date originally fixed; and it was only yesterday that the ceremony was really performed, in the Roman Catholic Church at Kandy. In the early afternoon, as I sat working in the verandah, I was startled by the approach of the bridal procession. First came the bride and brideroom, hand in hand, followed by a little girl of six, in the inevitable pink frock made very long, with a veil of needle-run net hanging from the back of her head; beside the girl walked a particularly sharp boy of ten, in white jacket and cloth, and embroidered velvet cap; and behind them came two women - one the aunt in a heliotrope silk cloth and beautiful jewellery - the other the mother who being a widow was quite enveloped - head included - in white muslin. The bride's dress was extremely picturesque, a cloth of red brocaded silk, with border of orange and green, worn Tamilwise, over a low short-sleeved bodice of red silk shot with yellow. Her hair was dressed in one long thick plait, fastened off with three bell shaped gold ornaments, whilst on the crown of her head she wore a round bossed gold ornament about three inches in diameter, two similar but smaller discs being fastened on the plait of hairs. In addition, she had very handsome side combs, a row of pink garnets with fringes of seed pearls; also massive gold ear-rings, three nose-rings, the centre one a fine pink garnet - two rosaries of gold beads - several rings, and particularly pretty Indian filagree work bracelets. Over all this grandeur she wore a white tulle veil, just like an English bride, but was kind enough to take it off that I might inspect the jewellery which was shown me with great pride by the aunt, who happily came from Madras, and could speak English. The poor girl herself was quite overwhelmed with shyness and never once lifted up her head or uttered a word.

The bridegroom, in spite of its being a broiling hot afternoon, wore over his shoulder a thick woollen shawl of the most hideous red and blue plaid conceivable. I am sure no loom in Great Britain could produce such a terrible combination of the two colours, its birthplace must have been Germany. Later when I saw him for a moment without the ladies, I asked him if he did not find it very hot; "Oh yes, lady, it is very hot, but I must wear it; it is part of my wedding dress." A very incongruous part, I thought to myself, for the rest was a pretty white muslin cloth with narrow border of crimson and gold, a white linen jacket, and sapphire blue velvet cap embroidered with silver.