The Cambridge bride
Wedding photographs and weird traditions
On the way to a lovely summer wedding held in an English country garden last weekend, I spotted a bride and groom sitting on a bench at the Baker Street stop on the London Underground. As I took a snap of the happy couple, seemingly bathed in celestial light from the window above, there was an audible ‘Aaaah!’ from other passengers who were happy to witness a romantic kiss. Over one thousand people on Substack Notes have now enjoyed and commented on my photo, and it’s given risen to some intriguing theories of why the bride and groom picked this spot: was it a tribute to Sherlock or due to the tube’s proximity to Marylebone Registry Office? Did the couple first meet there, and will they celebrate their first anniversary by returning to this spot? (Click on the image below to find out more!) Meanwhile, it got me thinking about an unusual wedding ritual - or initiation rite - that took place for many years at Cambridge University, and my short post about it is below. Thanks for reading.
The Cambridge bride
The bride is led into the dining room. The candlelight throws warm tints on the dark auburn hair that is coiled high on her head, and her creamy skin seems to glow in the dim light. Her eyes are lowered demurely and her hand rests lightly on the Vice-Chancellor’s arm, as he gazes down at her in admiration. The other guests, men formal in their stiff wing collars, ladies in their dark dresses and diamonds, follow behind in pairs, murmuring to one another and looking at the pearlescent grey silk wedding dress with its train of ruffles cascading to the floor behind her, rustling with every step. The couple proceed slowly to a long table laden with silverware, candles and flowers, and the bride takes her place at the head of the table. For one night only she is the most important woman in the room.
This was Caroline Jebb (née Reynolds)’s formal introduction to her Cambridge society in October 1874. Caroline, who was from Philadelphia, was amused rather than intimidated by the whole affair, treating it as just another peculiar custom of English life, and happy to have the chance to wear her wedding dress again. In their official wedding photograph taken a couple of months previously, Richard leans against a lectern, holding an open book in front of him and gazing soulfully into the distance; Caroline’s eyes are lowered modestly. Perhaps she is meant to be listening attentively, but it’s not hard to work out that she’s really thinking about how best to display her show-stopping wedding dress. It takes up more space than her new husband does, and she holds back the train to show the masses of expensively pleated pale grey silk ruffles, every fold and ruffle paid for with her own, carefully saved money.
For hundreds of years, one of the stranger traditions of the University of Cambridge was its way of welcoming the women who married its senior members. Until the late nineteenth century only a handful of professors and college masters were permitted to marry. Having so few women connected to the university by marriage meant that each new Cambridge bride was formally welcomed in an elaborate ritual. This took the form of a grand dinner held in her honour hosted by the Vice-Chancellor and attended by all the other senior university men and their wives. The bride was required to put on her wedding dress again, even if she had got married months or years before. Normal rules of precedence (much loved by Victorians) were set aside for the evening, and the young woman was elevated to the level of queen.
This meant that she had to lead the procession to the dining table on the arm of the most senior man in the room and was expected to be aware of the correct forms of conversation and etiquette. No particular importance was attached to the groom. Caroline Jebb took all this in her stride, but it must have been terrifying for other, less confident women. In her memoir Byways of Cambridge History (1947) Florence Ada Keynes recalled the embarrassment the formal dinner ritual caused to some of the younger brides.
‘For this occasion only, she was the leading lady; she had to be on the alert to catch the hostess’s eye when the suitable moment came for the ladies to withdraw, and hers it was to rise and precede the train of stately dowagers into the withdrawing-room.’
The Cambridge bride’s ordeal continued, as she was then expected to invite all these imposing guests back to her own house, organize a seven- or eight-course dinner and understand the rules of precedence in deciding where everyone should sit.
In 1882 a university statute was passed permitting all college Fellows to marry; but the ritual of a Cambridge bride putting on her wedding dress and being welcomed with a formal dinner continued, I believe, well into the twentieth century. It must have felt to some of these women as if by marrying a Cambridge don they had married the university itself - and in some senses they had.
Now over to you. Have you heard of anything like this, and do you know of other western wedding traditions that strike you as unusual? Perhaps you did something different for your own nuptial celebrations, like having your reception in the London tube station. I’d love to know.
Next week I’ll be making some suggestions for summer reading, so do send me your recommendations.
Notes
Mary Reed Bobbitt, With Dearest Love to All: The Life and Letters of Lady Jebb (Faber, 1960), Florence Ada Keynes, Gathering Up the Threads (Cambridge: W. Heffer & sons, 1950).
As I've mentioned, Cambridge features in my novel. I always hold my breath when I read your posts, hoping I got the research enough correct. So far, so good. Thanks as always. Also bewitching photograph that is an excellent writing prompt.
Ann, this is both delightful and surprising. Who knew that Cambridge insisted for so long on treating its faculty like monks? When my mother was coming to terms with her exile from academia, the obstacle was not just her gender but her status as a faculty wife. I assumed that long tradition let men have it easy.