The Wedding of Sally Feet
A rare glimpse into the life of an Indigenous bride and her Chinese groom in the 1880s, amidst the backdrop of strict exclusion laws.
The story, cleaned up
A cleaned-up reading of the newspaper page: spelling and layout repaired, one story lifted off a crowded page. It follows the original closely but it is not a transcription. The original page is below; read it if a detail matters.
In Oysterville, last Monday evening, a Chinaman and an Indian woman were united in the holy bonds of matrimony. The name of the groom is Jung Dak, and Mrs. Jung Dak's name was Sally Feet. The marriage ceremony was performed by Rev. H. Hawkes, in the sitting-room of the Foot House, and there was a larger crowd of Indians and Chinamen than was ever known to be gathered together in Oysterville. A large crowd of Indians and the Chinaman came over from South Bend in a canoe in the morning, and in the afternoon nothing but the prospective wedding was mentioned on the streets. At 8 o'clock the groom and friends looked in at the Feet House, and in about an hour the bridal party appeared and were at the stand. The relations were curious to say the least, and we will not attempt to describe them. The Chinaman was persistent in being married with his black cap and shirt sleeves, and was looking around as self-possessed as if being married was nothing new to him. While the bride was the very picture of bashfulness, not even lifting her head until Dak paid $40 for his in-laws, her father. Kissing the bride was omitted, although everyone looked as if they expected that part of the ceremony. The groom, not a man like the happy Chinaman, wanted to be the first. Immediately after the ceremony, the bride ran away from her husband and retired home for a day and said she demanded the money first. He says $40 is a pretty high price for a wife in these hard times. One thing is sure, that the worldly affairs of Sally will be much bettered, as Dak is a located merchant now. He formerly clerked in the Hoquiam sawmill as well as at the South Bend mill. The boys around town made the night hideous for a few hours, with tin cans and other instruments, but quiet settled down when Dak gave them a treat.
“He says $40 is a pretty high price for a wife in these hard times.”
This rare report from the 1885 Oysterville Journal offers a glimpse into a multicultural marriage at a time when the Chinese Exclusion Act (1882) and intense anti-Asian sentiment defined the political climate of the Pacific Northwest. While the reporting adopts the patronizing, coded tone typical of the era, the story documents a lived reality of cross-cultural community that often existed in the shadows of exclusionary policies.
From readers
No comments yet. If you know something about this story — a correction, a family memory, a source — it belongs here.