How to get married abroad

JUSTINE L. WHITFIELD

There is a popular belief that one of the duties of the American Consular Service is to marry citizens of the United States who are travelling abroad. Such statements as: "We'll get married at the American Consulate in Paris," or "Let's have the American Consul marry us. He has the right, you know," are repeatedly appearing in books or coming through the loudspeaker. Well, he has no such right, and the writers and broadcasting companies, who educate the people, should be aware of it.

Some years ago, when my husband and I began to inquire into the possibilities of marrying in Madrid, we found that, if we were going to do our legal best and get married, we should have to do it somewhere besides Spain. Under the King there was no marriage except Catholic marriage, and not only was neither of us Catholic but we were quite unable to furnish the documents and meet the requirements of the Church for matrimony.

We learned, however, that Americans could be married in Paris and obtained from the Consulate General there a leaflet setting forth the special arrangement between the Attorney General of the United States and the Procureur Géneral de France to facilitate marriage between American citizens in France. One of the parties must reside in a chosen arrondissement of a French city for thirty days previous to the ceremony; the banns must be posted for ten days in the Mayor's office of that district; an American lawyer residing in the city must prepare the papers, declaring both parties to be of marriageable age in their respective states; both to be free of matrimonial ties formerly contracted; both to be qualified American citizens; the residence provision to have been met; and no known objection to the marriage to exist. These papers must be certified by the American Consulate and by the Ministère des Affaires Etrangères. Two witnesses, chosen by the pair, must be present as sponsors at the wedding.

I asked for ten days' leave from my place in the American Consulate in Madrid during the coming month and was told that I might have it. My fiancé left at once for Paris and at the end of thirty days I joined him there.

The papers were drawn up the same afternoon and we received them along with the welcome news that if we were married on Monday, Wednesday or Friday, it would cost us 300 francs—but if we chose Tuesday, Thursday or Saturday we could be married gratis. We were also advised as to whom we should tip and how much. It is my personal belief that there is no one in France who cannot be tipped.

We went first to the Ministry and were speedily dispatched—with a charge of 3 francs 60 centimes for the stamps over which we signed our names. The Consulate was courteous, too, but the charge was 156 francs. We then set out for the Mayor's office with high hopes of being married next day—which was Tuesday, and a free day.

"You wish to marry yourselves, n'est-ce pas? Ah, oui; it is down that way. Turn to the left, et voilà" In time we reached the marriage bureau and were taken over by a kind old gentleman who was desolated to tell us that we could not get married tomorrow as we must wait ten days more for the banns to be posted.

Distractedly we went back to the Consulate. We were passed from one officer to another. I showed my Special Passport. I explained. I pleaded. They would like to accommodate me but they were reluctant to ask special favors of the French Government which had been none too courteous about granting them in the past. In fact they had not been able to get a concession in such a case for the past five years—not, in fact, since an American Consul en route to China and compelled to leave at once had been married without benefit of banns. My case was, indeed, similar, but not so urgent. They doubted that anything would be done. But they finally talked themselves into giving us a letter to His Honor Monsieur le Maire of the Fourth Arrondissement.

With a new feeling of confidence we started off for the Mayor's office. Monsieur le Maire was a dapper little man with a trim Van Dyke and a voluminous cravat. 1 le sat before a gigantic table in a Directoire room with red velvet curtains and a stately fireplace. He was gracious, he was charmant —but be could do nothing. "Jeregrette, mademoiselle. It is not in my power. What you ask is only within the power of the Proeureur Géneral dc France. If he gives me leave I shall grant your request gladly, but without his permission I am powerless.

Then as I rose, defeated, he reached for his pen—the feather pen of Napoleon's time. "Tenez, mademoiselle. I will do my best for you. Take this letter to the Palais de Justice —you know where it is? Bon! Take it to Monsieur le Proeureur. I will add an annotation, here above. Let us see what he will do."

He gave me one angry glance and plumped into the chair. "Sit down," he cried irritably—and I sat down again without a word. He picked up the letter and lowered at it. "You see, monsieur," I ventured cautiously, "it is not the residence. The residence is provided for. My fiance has been here in Paris for thirty days complying with the residence requirement. It is very simple. It is the banns, only the banns that we ask to be excused from." He hastily scanned the first page. Suddenly bis face changed. "Ah, then it is the banns only? Ban—that's something else! Why did you not say so at once? Whyall this trifling with my precious time?" He reached for his pen, scrawled several words across the face of the letter, flung it at me, and hurst out: "Take it to Monsieur le Maire, take it at once, and good day!"

With many thanks we took our leave. Down by the Hotel de Ville, along the quai, across the Pont au Change and into the Corns d'Honneur of the Palais we hurried. "Monsieur le Proeureur Géneral," we continually demanded, and finally reached his anteroom. "I think you'd do better alone," whispered my fiance. I thought so myself, as I still had some illusions as to the susceptibility of Frenchmen to feminine persuasion, and I had every intention of using all mine.

I was led into another long room, where another miniature Frenchman was seated before a very large table. I reflected hastily how fond the French are of contrasts. The frenchman behind this desk was a very cross old man. He scowled at me when I entered, he scowled at me when I presented the letter. He scowled as he tore it from the envelope and read the Mayor's annotation. Without even glancing at the letter, which covered three pages, he screamed: "C'est impossible, that is entirely out of the question!"

"But you haven't read the letter, monsieur. It is not a question of the residence. It is only the banns, monsieur. The residence has been duly observed."

"Why don't you marry yourselves in New York? Why must you marry yourselves in France, in Paris? You think it is the romantic thing to do, n'est-ce pas? Ball!"

"We cannot marry ourselves in New York, monsieur. We are not going to New York. If monsieur will only have the bonté to read the letter he will see all the difficulty. Please I beg of monsieur that he shall read the letter."

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Next day when we presented ourselves for the Mayor's blessing, sponsored by our witnesses, we were received with respect on all sides, and given first place on the long list of those about to be married on the free day. We signed our names in a huge ledger into which our records had been copied; our witnesses signed their names, and we were solemnly ushered to the front and seated before the Mayor's rostrum.

Monsieur le Maire entered, very austere and impersonal in his ceremonial finery and blue sash. He rustled his papers, looked at the assembled company, and cleared his throat. The clerk signaled us to stand up, and we rose quickly. "What shall I say?" whispered my fiance, suddenly panic-stricken at the thought of his meagre French.

"Say 'oui',"I replied reassuringly.

After the preamble had been said, the Mayor looked at my fiance and demanded: "Have you ever contracted matrimony before?"

My chosen mate replied energetically that he had. The Mayor gave him one startled look and consulted the record. I whispered a frantic: "Non, say non," but the Mayor, who was perhaps a bit deaf, went on:

"Do you take this woman to be your wife and companion on the road of life?"

"Non," returned my fiance.

A titter of laughter rose from the assembly. A growing amazement covered the Mayor's face, lie again consulted his papers, looked at me speculatively for a moment, probably decided I would never have another chance, sighed and concluded rapidly: "I now pronounce you man and wife."

The clerk who had taken his place in the corner behind the great register began to read our record in a singsong voice. The Mayor presented us with an extensive booklet which I later found to contain space for the registration of the births and deaths of twelve children, together with detailed instructions for their natural and artificial feeding, pre-natal care and all the laws and by-laws of France having to do with marriage and maternity. The contribution plate was then passed, "for the poor," and when we had duly contributed we were shown the door.

Although we did manage to he married in Paris, it was not really an easy matter, and I personally feel that it is to he regretted that American Consuls are not empowered to perform marriages abroad. Americans live and travel abroad in increasing numbers. It is not unreasonable that occasion for their marriage in the place where their occupations take them should arise, and that as a part of its care of citizens abroad the Consular Service might reasonably he called upon to assist them in this important function of their lives.

A survey shows that it is practically impossible for Americans to be married in most European countries. In the Netherlands a residence of eighteen months is necessary before individual can he considered as legally residing in the country, and he must he legally a resident before he can he married there. He needs also a birth certificate and a statement of the parents' consent must he furnished if the parties are under thirty. A certificate of single state (mono-position) must also be procured and testified to by two witnesses in addition to certification by the Consul of the Netherlands in the district in which they resided in the United States.

Marriage for American citizens in Germany is hardly feasible, inasmuch as the United States is not party to a convention between a number of states for facilitating the marriage of their citizens abroad. Pursuant to the German law, a great number of documents and proofs establishing identity, and absence of marriage entanglements is required before a license will he issued.

The Spanish Republic has simplified to some extent the requirements of marriage of foreigners in Spain, hut it is still very difficult. A birth certificate legalized by the Spanish Consul in the District where the certificate is issued, and also an affidavit from some official of the town where the foreigner resided in his country stating that he is single, are required. Former regulations regarding the posting of banns in the applicant's native village have been mercifully dispensed with, though they must still be posted in Spain. The general theory in all European countries is that if a marriage can be prevented, it ought to be.

In England, American citizens may contract marriage if they have resided there for eighteen days before the ceremony is to take place. A license must be applied for two days before the marriage and it costs about four pounds sterling. It is necessary to publish banns two weeks in advance, and this regulation is dispensed with only upon issue of a special license, which costs fifteen pounds.

In Norway it is necessary to advertise the marriage in the official legal bulletin, and the wedding cannot take place until a period of at least fourteen days has elapsed from the time of the advertising.

In Argentina, two Americans may he married without delay, simply upon presentation of their passports. In Brazil, however, 21 days' residence is necessary, with due posting of banns, and a birth certificate must he furnished. No person who has been divorced may he married in Brazil, as that country does not recognize divorce.

Only in China, where we have our own courts, may Americans he married without foreign law entanglements.

It does not seem inconsistent with the American spirit that our Government, which is so careful to look out for the business interests of Americans abroad, should also extend its care to their personal welfare and that legislation should be passed to enable Americans abroad to marry at their consulates under the same general conditions which would govern their marriage within the territorial limits of the United States. It would certainly relieve the strain on many a matrimonially-minded young American couple residing abroad.