ediate preparations
were made for the unhappy union, whose date was to be written in blood.
The double ceremony, exacted by the difference of faith in the
contracting parties, was performed, as we have said, on the 18th of
August 1572, the public betrothal having taken place on the preceding
day at the Louvre; and it was accompanied by all the splendour of which
it was susceptible. The marriage-service was performed by the Cardinal
de Bourbon, on a platform erected in front of the metropolitan church of
Notre-Dame; whence, at its conclusion, the bridal train descended by a
temporary gallery to the interior of the Cathedral, and proceeded to the
altar, where Henry, relinquishing the hand of his new-made wife, left
her to assist at the customary mass, and meanwhile paced to and fro
along the cloisters in conversation with the venerable Gaspard de
Coligny and others of his confidential friends, the whole of whom were
sanguine in their anticipations of a bright and happy future.

At the conclusion of the mass the King of Navarre rejoined his bride,
and taking her hand, conducted her to the episcopal palace, where,
according to an ancient custom, the marriage-banquet awaited them.[6]
The square of the Parvis Notre-Dame was crowded with eager spectators,
and the heart of the Queen-mother beat high with exultation as she
glanced at the retinue of the bridegroom, and recognised in his suite
all the Huguenot leaders who had hitherto refused to pass the gates of
the capital.

Save her own, however, all eyes were rivetted upon Marguerite; and many
were the devout Catholics who murmured beneath their breath at the
policy which had determined the monarch to bestow a Princess of such
beauty and genius upon a heretic. In truth, nothing could be more regal
or more dazzling than the appearance of the youthful bride, who wore,
as Queen of Navarre, a richly-jewelled crown, beneath which her long and
luxuriant dark hair fell in waving masses over an ermine cape (or
_couet_) clasped from the throat to the waist with large diamonds; while
her voluminous train of violet-coloured velvet, three ells in length,
was borne by four princesses.[7] And thus in royal state she moved
along, surrounded and followed by all the nobility and chivalry of
France, amid the acclamations of an admiring and excited people, having
just pledged herself to one whose feelings were as little interested in
the compact as her own.

The bridal festivities lasted thro