A Colonial Quaker Wedding: What's Love Got to Do With It?

William Penn marries Hannah Callowhill, 1696

Centuries before Tina Turner belted out, “What’s love got to do with it?” members of the Society of Friends (Quakers) were, in a sense, asking the same question with regard to marriage. Their answer? Everything and nothing.

In colonial times, marriage in America looked quite different than it does now. Today, most people “marry for love” (romantic love), and there’s nothing wrong with that, as long as other forms of love accompany and bolster it. In the eighteenth century, however, while some couples certainly married for romantic reasons, many more built their marriage on a foundation based on necessity. Gender roles were generally prescribed, and many aspects of adult life required (or were at least easier) with a spouse or other family member of the opposite gender to carry their part of the workload.

Quakers were no different, with companionship and friendship being paramount in a marriage. Romance certainly played a part in relationships as well, but primarily in the milieu of shared devotion to the Lord. Many times, companionship and friendship coupled with shared devotion to God resulted in romantic love, creating a formidable bond.

Of course, that’s pretty much where the commonalities between colonial marriage and colonial Quaker marriage ended. As early as the seventeenth century, many Quakers embraced revolutionary ideas about marriage and gender roles. Leader George Fox wrote that for those living in the Light and perfected by Christ, husbands and wives could be equal “helpmeets.” This was quite radical considering that male leadership was implicit in American culture, and not all Quakers agreed with Fox. Even so, Quaker life was steeped in the spiritual equality of all; many women became traveling ministers, leaving behind their families to acclimate to periods without them—all with their Meeting’s blessing.

Some other facets of colonial Quaker marriage?

Men and women chose their own spouses (there were no arranged marriages), although to be married by the Meeting, parental consent was required. Without parental consent, the couple could not go to the Women’s Meeting (the women’s leadership for the Meeting, which handled vetting marriages as part of their responsibility) for its consent. And without the Meeting’s consent (Women’s Meeting and then the Men’s Meeting), there was no marriage—unless the couple decided to go to a minister of a non-Quaker church or to the justice of the peace. That was highly discouraged, however, and it always resulted in “disownment,” or expulsion from Meeting for “marrying out of order” or “contrary to discipline,” as Friends called it. (Not to worry. Once the expelled couple acknowledged their transgression and proved that they intended to be obedient Quakers going forward, the Meeting reinstated their membership.)

Marriage to non-Quakers was never condoned. Friends were expected to marry within their own religious community, and any Friend who married a non-Quaker (by a minister or justice of the peace) was automatically disowned. However, members who were disowned could still worship with Friends, and eventually, with acknowledgment and proven behavior, could regain membership. (Long before modern-day worship songs, Quakers were proclaiming that God is a God of not the “second chance” but the “another chance.”)

So what did love have to do with Quaker marriage in colonial times? Well, that depends on what kind of love you’re talking about. Love in a spirit of companionship, friendship, and shared devotion to Christ? Everything. Love in a spirit of romance and pleasure? Often nothing. Or perhaps nothing at first. But with God, all things are possible and love never fails.

Though I speak with the tongues of men and Angels, and have not love, I am as sounding brass, or a tinkling cymbal. And though I had the gift of prophecy, and knew all secrets and all knowledge, yea, if I had all faith, so that I could remove mountains, and had not love, I were nothing. And though I feed the poor with all my goods, and though I give my body, that I be burned, and have not love, it profiteth me nothing.

—1 Corinthians 1:1–3 (1599 Geneva Bible)

Plain and Simple: A Colonial Quaker Wedding

Horsham Friends Meeting – Horsham, Pennsylvania

If you’ve lived in the United States for any length of time, chances are you believe that all weddings in this country are officiated—either by a minister, a justice of the peace, or another qualified individual. It’s the law, right? Well . . . no.

Even today, after 360 years in the United States, the Society of Friends (also known as Quakers) has members who still choose the traditional Quaker route to married life. No minister. No bridesmaids or groomsmen. No walking down the aisle to Pachelbel’s Cannon. In fact, much of their ceremony reflects an interminable tenet of Quakerism: silence.

While some Quakers now choose to marry in a ceremony similar to that of other modern-day Americans, many still hold tight to tradition. So what does a traditional Quaker wedding look like? It actually starts about two months (occasionally more) before the actual wedding. Let’s take a trip back to 1750s Pennsylvania and have a look.

Our young Quaker couple—we’ll call them Isaac and Elisabeth—have been close friends all their life. While Quakers believe that friendship, respect, and companionship is a solid foundation on which to build a marriage, Isaac and Elisabeth’s love has grown into much more than friendship. They decide to marry, and to do so, they must follow prescribed steps to be “married under the care of Meeting” (quotation marks implies traditional Quaker speech, much of which has been used for centuries):

•         “Parental consent”: The first step is to obtain consent to marry from both sets of parents. Without parental consent, the Meeting will rarely marry a couple. If the parents are in “agreement” with the marriage, the next step is taken.
•          “Intention to marry”: The couple then writes a letter to their Friends Meeting (or Meetings, if they don’t belong to the same Meeting), declaring their intention to marry.
•          Business meeting: The clerk of the Meeting(s) reads the letter at the next business meeting (Friends hold “meeting for worship with a concern for business” one First Day [Sunday] of each month), and a “clearness committee” (usually two men and two women) is “appointed.”
•          Clearness committee: The committee visits with the couple individually and jointly to ascertain that nothing would interfere with the happiness and permanence of the marriage. (If two Meetings are involved, the overall process can take longer since both Meetings must “investigate” their attendee’s spouse-to-be.) If the committee fears that marriage would not work for one reason or another, it would deny the couple the ability to be married under the care of Meeting. The couple’s options are then to not marry, to work with the Meeting’s elders/overseers/clearness committee until it is agreed that the couple may to marry, or to marry “out of unity” or “contrary to discipline” (meaning be married in a non-Quaker church or by a justice of the peace, etc.—during this time period, the couple would then be disowned by the Meeting*).
•          Business meeting: Assuming the clearness committee (or committees) agreed that the couple should be married, that would be reported to the Meeting at the next meeting for business, which would be the following month. The clerk of Meeting would grant the couple permission to marry, and the committee’s next responsibility would be to “see that the marriage is accomplished.”

Isaac and Elisabeth attend the same Meeting and have been cleared to marry, so the next step is the actual marriage. Traditionally, Quaker marriages were held either on First Day (Sunday) during meeting for worship or during “midweek meeting” (meeting for worship on a Wednesday or Thursday). Invitations would go out, and all would gather in the meeting house on the chosen day. Then the marriage ceremony would take place.

On the day of the wedding, those attending filed into the meeting house and took seats on the benches (during this time period, men and women sat on different sides of the room). Soon the wedding overseers entered the room, and they sat on the facing benches (benches at the front of the room that face the regular benches). Then the couple walked in together, proceeded to the front of the meeting house, and sat on the facing benches. Since Friends believe that each person has a relationship with God and therefore needs no intermediary, no minister marries the couple; they are instead married by God and witnessed by those in attendance.

The wedding would begin with “silent worship,” just like any other meeting for worship. When the couple felt led, they stood and took each other’s hand, simply stated their intentions, and signed the marriage certificate. They would sit down again, and the wedding overseers would read the certificate for all in attendance. Silent worship would continue, and during this time, guests could stand, as they felt led, to speak about the couple or about marriage. After it seemed that everyone who felt led to speak had done so, two of the wedding overseers would shake hands, indicating “the rise of meeting” (meaning that meeting for worship has concluded). Each guest then came forward to sign the marriage certificate.

Isaac and Elisabeth’s marriage has now been accomplished, and that will be reported to the Meeting at the next meeting for business. May they have many years of happiness together!

* Quaker disownment is not the same as Amish shunning. When disowned, Friends could still attend meeting for worship and interact with family and friends. They were just no longer "under the care of Meeting." Disownment was not punishment, but Friends' way of ensuring that those under the care of the Meeting followed rules that contributed to the community's best interests. In most cases, a written apology and changed behavior was all that was necessary to be reinstated in Meeting after disownment.



Bio: Christy Distler lives just outside Horsham, Pennsylvania, which was settled by her ancestors in the early 1700s. She is currently working on a fact-and-fiction novel involving her Quaker family in 1750s Horsham.

Of Marriage

"It is a question, not easily answered, whether marriage was appointed by the Divine Parent, merely for the propagation of the human species, or for the education of children. Whether one or the other, or both were reasons of the institution, it certainly was appointed by God, honored by Jesus, and declared to be honorable unto all by St. Paul." Elder John Leland, The Virginia Chronicle 1790

"And Adam said, This is now bone of my bones, and flesh of my flesh: she shall be called Woman, because she was taken out of Man. Therefore shall a man leave his father and his mother, and shall cleave unto his wife: and they shall be one flesh." Genesis 2:23-24

Our Wedding, Feb 5, 1995 Chehalis, B.C.

This week, my husband (Dave) and I celebrate eighteen years of marriage. We met one year plus a day before our wedding. We both worked at Trinity Western University--both of us having graduated from Trinity a few years before. We were friends for four months, then dated for four months, then engaged for four months.

Just recently, Dave and I were musing about whether a marriage would be nullified in the eyes of God if the laws of the land hadn't been properly followed. When first married, I'd occasionally wake up from a dream where I had experienced the horrors of being improperly married. Such is the life of a person with a vivid imagination.

I am exceedingly grateful for the institution of marriage. What a horrible lonely life I would have but for my husband and my children. I feel for those who must raise their children on their own. How overwhelming a task it must seem.

For the most part, weddings are grand events in Canada, taking the larger portion of a day with celebrations often going into the wee hours of the night. Our wedding was quite simple by comparison, and we would have made it even more so if family didn't feel a full roast beef dinner with all the trimmings was not an absolute necessity. But I'm chasing a rabbit trail.

Weddings in Colonial times (in general) were much more simple affairs. In Virginia, before the Declaration of Independence, "the rites of matrimony" could be done two different ways.

1. A license was issued to the bridegroom from the clerk's office in the county of the bride. This cost the bridegroom about 20 shillings and 50 lbs of tobacco. The license was then delivered to the clergyman on the wedding day to 'solemnize' the rites. He'd be paid 20 shillings for the service.
2. The clergyman posted banns of marriage for the couple on three Sundays at the cost to the groom of eighteen pence and for the 'joining of the couples together' he received 5 shillings.

As you can imagine, the poor folk would take the second route to marriage.

Most weddings were solemnized by parish preachers (parishes being that of the Church of England). However, some Presbyterian ministers provided the service. If the marriage was done by license (route 1 above), the parish preacher took the 'solemnizing' fee even if the actual ceremony was done by a Presbyterian minister.

Our marriage process was not that much different from the 1700's.

Dave and I did not have a typical church wedding. We were married in the lodge at Pioneer Chehalis along the Chehalis River and nestled in the rugged mountains of British Columbia. A more beautiful setting there could not be. We had our pictures taken in the trees along the river. Having taught horsemanship clinics for several years at this location, I knew the weather would be perfect, and it was. (And no, the picture above is not done in a studio but onsite, just outside of the lodge where the ceremony was held.)

We had to apply for a marriage license as well, but I didn't need to be a resident of B.C. (although I was). Dave had to pay for it (probably around $100). The license is only valid for three months. Within that three months a marriage ceremony with two witnesses needs to be performed.

In B.C., you can choose from a civil or a religious ceremony. The minister performing a religious ceremony has to be registered with the government, just like in Virginia in the 1700's. The minister performing the ceremony completes the Marriage Registration Form and sends it to the agency where the marriage will be registered and the legal record kept.

"After the declaration of independence, in 1780, an act passed the general assembly to authorise as many as four ministers in each county, of each denomination, to solemnize the rights;" Elder John Leland, The Virginia Chronicle 1790

Dave and I were married by a Lutheran minister, and the wedding witnessed by many family and friends. For us, it didn't matter the denomination of the minister. He was a friend of Dave's and able to marry us and that was enough.

In Virginia, many couples could not have the minister of their choice before 1784. They were limited to the authorized ministers in their county. After 1784, any ordained minister could apply for a license to solemnize the marriage. The license was given to the preacher, and after the ceremony, he was to certify to the clerk that indeed the solemnization occurred. The groom paid five shillings to the preacher and fifteen pence to the clerk for registering the certificate.

What was our conclusion about the validity of a marriage not done according to the law of the land? God does tell us to obey the laws, so we should make every effort to abide by them. However, mistakes and misunderstandings do happen. I think the vow before God would stand. Perhaps a simple fixing of the mistake by making it legal according to the state law would give all peace of mind.

After eighteen years of marriage, the only thing I can remember about those days before knowing Dave is how lonely I was. He truly is my hero, because he took this less than adequate woman and made her his wife, providing me with a friendship that will last through eternity.

Much advice can be given for marriage, but one thing I know for sure, humility and grace before God and your spouse must prevail through the whimsical winds of love. And I hope my dear husband has found the money he spent to get a wife returned to him a hundredfold. I know I've been blessed beyond measure.

Likewise, ye wives, be in subjection to your own husbands; that, if any obey not the word, they also may without the word be won by the conversation of the wives; 

While they behold your chaste conversation coupled with fear...

Likewise, ye husbands, dwell with them according to knowledge, giving honour unto the wife, as unto the weaker vessel, and as being heirs together of the grace of life; that your prayers be not hindered.

I Peter 3:1,2,7

Guest Post by Melanie Dobson - Moravian Colonial Marriages

Love Finds You in Nazareth, Pennsylvania cover

The journey back into the 1700s to write Love Finds You in Nazareth, Pennsylvania was a very personal one for me. For the first two decades of my life, you see, the history of my father’s side of the family (the Beroths) was a mystery to us. My father was a commercial pilot, and as he flew across the country, he scoured phone books for years during his layovers, looking for anyone with the last name of Beroth. It was a long time before he found a link to our heritage.

About twenty years ago, we discovered relatives in North Carolina. Our ancestors, we found out, had been a part of the Moravian Church after my great-grandparents (to the fifth) joined the Moravian Church more than two centuries ago. I knew very little of my heritage or this tradition, but I was intrigued. Who were the Moravians and why had my great-grandparents joined their church?

Years later I traveled to Bethlehem in Pennsylvania and then on to Nazareth, researching the story for this novel while I looked for information about my family. As I interviewed the curator at the historical society, she explained one of the unique marriage customs the Moravians honored in the 18^th-century—the custom of marrying by Lot. The Moravian elders would select a couple they thought should marry and then would present the potential wife’s name to the single man. If the man agreed with their choice, the elders put the decision before the lot—three pieces of paper (Ja. Nein. And a blank piece for wait) stuffed into a glass cylinder. They prayed and then drew an answer from the cylinder.

If the answer was no, the elders would select the name of another woman for the single man to marry, and they would continue the selection process until the papers concurred with their choice. Then the leaders would speak to the single woman about the marriage. Moravian women had the option to turn down the marriage, but they rarely did. In their minds, the lot determined God’s will for their life.

My mind spun as I listened to the curator, the plot for my novel developing. What would happen if the man in my novel wanted to marry a certain woman and the lot refused him? What if he had to marry a woman he didn’t love? And what if the woman he married loved him with her whole heart?

As I sat in the historical society in Bethlehem, researching this custom that seemed so strange to me, I stumbled upon an entry with the names of my great-grandparents, Johann Beroth and Catharina Neumann. The entry said they married by lot in Bethlehem on July 29, 1758.

My great-grandparents married by lot?

I had no idea.

My mind began racing. Did my great-grandparents know each other before they married? Did they love each other?  Were they excited to marry or did they dread their wedding day?

In her short memoir, my great-grandmother writes of counting the cost before joining the Moravians. She said she knew there would be hardships and yet she felt the draw of the Savior to join the Moravian people in Bethlehem. Even as her family sent a cart and men to carry her back home, she remained stalwart, “serene and satisfied” in her decision to join the congregation. But she never mentioned what it was like to be chosen to marry Johann by lot.

The Moravians continued to marry this way until 1818 when a devout Moravian man insisted on marrying a woman the lot denied him. He left the church to marry but later he and his wife rejoined. After that, marriages began to be arranged by families instead of by lot.

Many Moravian women wrote of their reluctance to marry when they received the call to wed by lot, and yet many of these same women later described the terrible grief over losing their husbands. It seems the love for a spouse blossomed within marriage instead of before.

Maria Reitzenbach initially wrote, “I must admit that I found it indescribably hard to take this step (of marriage)….Only the thought that it was my duty to do everything for the love of my dear Saviour who had forgiven me my sins and had taken me into a state of grace made me give myself up to this.”

But then she wrote, “I was made a widow by the calling home of my dear husband, after we had lived in marriage for twenty-two years happy and content and had shared joy and pain and had been a comfort and a cheer to each other. For this reason I felt his loss very painfully and no one could comfort me but the Friend to whom I had often told all my troubles and with whom I alone took refuge” (from the Moravian Women’s Memoirs, translated by Katharine Faull).

I’m still not certain exactly why my great-grandparents joined the Moravians. Perhaps it was because of the Moravian’s compassion toward the needy or their focus on mission work. Perhaps it was because they were escaping their families or maybe they wanted to be a part of group who was devout in their faith and service to God.

I also don’t know what my great-grandparents thought about the custom of marrying by lot, but I do know that they were married for almost six decades. I—along with my family—am grateful the lot brought Johann and Catharina together and that God helped them sustain this marriage for fifty-eight years.

I loved writing this novel based in part on what my great-grandparents might have felt in the first years of their marriage. Love Finds You in Nazareth, Pennsylvania is not a romance about an unmarried couple. It is a romance about a husband falling in love with his wife.

Melanie Dobson is the award-winning author of nine contemporary and historical novels including her most recent release, Love Finds You in Nazareth, Pennsylvania. She is currently working on a historical romance set on Mackinac Island, Michigan. When she’s not writing, Melanie loves exploring her home state of Oregon with her husband and two daughters. 

Melanie Dobson's website