22 April 1896: Ethel Turner marries

After an engagement lasting 5 years, Australian author, Ethel Turner married Herbert Raine Curlewis on 22 April 1896. The ceremony was performed by the Reverend R. Raymond King at St John’s Anglican Church, Gordon, NSW, and the wedding reception was held at the Cope family home, ‘Bukyangi’, in Powell Street, Killara. Ethel Turner is best known for her novel Seven Little Australians, which was first published in 1894.

Initially secret, the five-year engagement of Turner and Curlewis ran hot and cold. In January 1891, the young author recorded in her diary, “I believe I like him a little better, it’s a puzzle to me how he likes me so very much.” One month later, in February, she wrote, “I walked through Domain with C. and I was horrid to him, when he said he loved me, I told him I detested him with all my heart – and so I did. I don’t like him an atom.” In March she wrote to him, “… we must have nothing at all to do with each other…” However, it wasn’t too much longer before Curlewis prevailed and Turner had a change of heart. The couple became secretly engaged with Curlewis giving her a modest gold bracelet. In May that year, she recorded: “I am frightened at what I have done, and yet so happy … I never really thought I cared for him till tonight.” Curlewis was passionate, writing “I love you I love you beyond all words, my darling, darling Baby I love you I love you, Herbert.”

The wedding was a society occasion and was reported in the newspapers of the day. Ethel Turner’s own diary entry best describes the occasion:

22nd April
My Wedding Day: all this is written up from memory a fortnight later. I stayed in bed till 10 am for last night I did not shut my eyes till 5 am. Ella Pockley and Flo Barry came to help. It rained just a little now and again, not enough to wet anyone. All the morning the erection of arches and flags and the setting of tables went on. At 12.30 pm I went to dress, Rosie did my hair, Mother fastened my veil and put on my wreath. Had a fit of exceeding trembling at 1.30 pm but was calm at 2. The carriage came, Lil, Rose, Dolly, Marion and I someway squeezed into it. Had no time for nervousness. Rosie was so busy giving us our cues and we were all so anxious to keep ourselves uncrushed. The church crowded to overflowing — beautifully decorated (at least the papers said so after, I did not see). Up the aisle on Mr Cope’s arm, caught a vision of W. Curnow, H. Wohtenholme and Dr Barry, and said to myself mechanically their faces looked familiar. Then a glimpse of poor little Mother with tear-wet eyes in the front pew. Then Herbert looking anxiously at me (I was so pale he said). The beautiful service — only once or twice my thoughts wandered and I couldn’t realise that I had to listen especially. The plighting of troths — we both spoke up bravely. Lily taking off my glove. Herbert taking my hand — putting on the new strange little ring. Mr King’s voice again — then a burst of organ and Herbert lifting my veil for the first kiss — and Mr Cope brushing roughly up, pushing him aside and taking the first before anyone could recover from the surprise — it was cruel, wicked. Then Herbert then Mother. Then down the aisle again through the sea of people into the carriage. H and I, no-one else. On the way home we were so happy we decided to forgive even Mr Cope. Out of the carriage, a second into the bedroom for my veil hung perilously off. Into the dining-room for vestry business — signings of names, etc. Into the drawing-room for the reception, nearly an hour shaking hands, laughing, talking, being congratulated by a hundred people. I lost my nervousness, even got a bright colour with the excitement they told me. Then away to the marquee to cut the cake, knocked the ornament off and broke some icing, then Herbert came to the rescue. Stayed about half an hour there, and enjoyed it thoroughly — we never thought we should find our own wedding real fun. Everyone was so nice. Talked to Mr Carruthers, Mr Rohn and a few others. Then to dress — Mother helping me. Down the stairs — the hall and verandah thickly lined, then a wild plunge to the carriage through a blinding shower of rice and flowers. Cheers in the air, then off even down to the gate they pursued us with pellets. Then on to the Lane Cove Road, and calm and quiet. It was the loveliest drive in the world, about ten miles — as we went the rain clouds cleared and the most glorious sun came out. I have never seen a sky more perfect. The Chalet, and only to find that though at the beginning we had untied one shoe, another one still dangled. Hence those smiles on the way. The old housekeeper had everything ready — Mrs Curlewis and Miss Bickle had put white flowers in all the rooms and all was welcoming and cheerful as Mother had thought impossible. And the loveliest moon in the evening. And the morning and the evening were the first day.

(The Diaries of Ethel Turner, compiled by Philippa Poole, Landsdowne Press, 1979)