The Wedding Ended in Blood

for Mass. They had barely looked at each other through the entire ceremony, and they hadn't looked at each other afterwards when he had gone off to begin the feastings and pantomimes and festivities of their wedding week, surrounded by his Huguenot friends, and she Margot had gone to sit

in their palaces at the Louver with her sister. The marriage hadn't been consummated yet her new husband, and Henry of Navarre probably assumed from her stony face at the ceremony that she wouldn't be willing and welcoming him to her bed. But he should have known that Margot was a girl who did her duty. That was the only reason why she was there in the first place, marrying a Protestant heretic at all, and so four days after their wedding, when the festivities still raged on, when Margot

woke to a knock at her door. She assumed for a moment that it was her husband, but the knocking became more frantic, and then there was the crying, not the crying of a woman or child, but the full throated weeping of a grown man, like a wounded animal. Then the shouting began, a stranger's voice screaming, please, Henry, Please, There was a stranger in the hallway, shouting for her husband. Her husband wasn't there, but pulling her white night dress

close to her body, Margo opened the door. A man collapsed on to her, hugging her around the waist, sobbing into her stomach. When he fell away, she saw that her night dress was painted with blood. Before she could react to the weeping man, Margot heard the clattering of heavy footsteps and turned to see four men for archers, with their arrows poised for a deadly shot. They began to race up the hallway, no doubt, looking for the man who was now cowering at her feet. The archers

were in her house colors. They were royal soldiers, serving her brother, King Charles the Ninth, and serving her mother, the formidable Catherine de Medici. When the soldiers saw Margo, they lowered their weapons and gave brief bows. Their chests heaved with exhilaration. Their shirts were translucent with sweat. This man is under my protection, Margot said. The wounded man began kissing her feet. The four soldiers hesitated for a moment, but then moved on, running back down the hall with

their bows still strung. It's okay, Margot said to the stranger, the bloody Huguenot, you're safe, but please tell me what's happening. He didn't have to answer. At that very moment, the street outside Margot's window ignited with the sound of misery and death. The bells in the church had just rung three in the morning, and that had been the signal to unleash a massacre and the Huguenots that had all arrived in Paris to celebrate the wedding of their leader

to a princess of France. It's impossible to know how many lives were taken but estimates put the death toll in Paris alone at three thousand. From there, things only got worse. What Catherine de Medici and her son, Charles the Ninth unleashed in France was a monster that to inspiral out of their control, far beyond what they had originally intended. But religious hatred isn't a weapon that can

be harnessed with any control. What should have been a wedding to cement a religious peace became the catalyst for an orgy of death and violence that lasted for months. Young Margot Valois was caught between loyalty to her family and to her husband, and she watched at the center of a nation as it crumbled into chaos. I'm Dana Schwartz, and this is noble blood. The monarchy in France was Catholic, and the only thing they hated more than Protestants was Spain.

That's what Admiral Decliny was counting on when he came to court to try to convince the young King Charles the Ninth to support the Protestants campaign in the Netherlands against the Spanish. Charles was only ten when he ascended to the throne, and by all accounts He was a wish yoshi leader, enfeebled by his dependence on his mother, Catherine de Medici, who controlled all of Court with her

brilliant maneuvering and infinite network of spies. But Catherine was not a stranger to bloodshed, and she wasn't above disposing of an enemy when it suited her. But she was against war in particular. She was against an expensive war in the Netherlands to help the Protestants of all people, when the real threat to her power was coming from much closer to home, from the scheming noble Geese family there in France, and from the ever looming presence of

Elizabeth the First in England. But Charles the Ninth was a young man and a young king. Young Men and young kings want to prove themselves in war. Peace is a far less immediate glory. All Cologny needed to do was get Charles the Ninth alone. It wasn't too difficult. Charles the Ninth had been so young when his father, the King died in a tragic jousting accident, and Coligny was Protestant, sure, but he was also charming and patient and persuasive. He spent hours with Charles, listening to his

plans and ideas, goading him on. Colanny even went to Mass with him, even if he made a special point not to remove his hat. Colony began pulling young Charles further away from his mother. He told Charles not to share their plans for the Netherlands with Catherine. Those plans, he said, are not for the ears of clerks or women. Catherine fumed, why did achieving peace need to be such a battle? As a dowager queen. One of her most

important remaining chess pieces was her daughter, Margot. Nineteen year old Margot celebrated as one of the most beautiful and cultured girls in the world, who spoke four languages with ease and impressed all who saw her with her wit and the way she danced as if she were gliding. The people loved her and loved her even more when they heard that she was in love with the equally charming Duke of Geese, two shining, beautiful Catholic teenagers to

represent the future of France. The people were thrilled, except there was no way Catherine de Medici would allow her daughter to marry a Geese. The Geese family was already too powerful, too threatening to her family line. When she found a love letter written from Margot to the Duke, she had Margot brutally beaten and her lover banished from court. He was forced to marry another woman. Margot would also be forced to marry a Protestant, which for the devout

young woman was a fate worse than death. Henry of Navarre was the de facto leader of the French Protestants or Hugo Nuts, ever since the death of his mother, who died while finalizing marriage negotiations with Henry's future mother in law, Catherine de Medici. The rumors were that Katherine had Henry's mother murdered with a pair of poisoned gloves. There were a few reasons Catherine de Medici was forcing her daughter to marry the leader of an enemy faction.

For one, the religious wars between the Catholics and the huge Gnats had been raging in France for decades. A big wedding between a Catholic and a Protestant, assuming they could get the approval of the Pope, would be a massive symbolic gesture to signal a unified France. Henry was a high ranking noble King of Navarre and not too far down the line for the throne of France himself.

By marrying him, Margot would be uniting two major French houses, hers the Valois and his the Bourbons, all the better to face off against the third family, the Geezas, and claiming Henry was also a defensive move. Rumor was that Coligny had sent an envoy to try to arrange a marriage between Henry and Queen Elizabeth the First in England, two important Protestant monarchs united. It was unthinkable Henry would

marry Margot. He would have to if he wanted any French support at all for that Protestant campaign in the Netherlands. Margot was one of the most cultured women in Europe in the world. She was the sister to a king, the daughter of a king, but she was above all a daughter, and so her purpose was to serve as a pawn through a strategic marriage. But as it turned out, Marco was going to be more than just upon. She

was going to be bait. Margot of Valois and Henry, King of Navarre arrived at their wedding in all of this splendor that could be expected for their status Margot wore a blue gown with a train ten ft long. Henry was in a yellow cape embroidered with diamonds and pearls. The two of them, beautiful and nineteen years old, glittered like gems themselves in the crowded Parisian street. The capital

was filled with people. There were citizens who came from all over the country to see their beloved Margot married. There were protesters furious she wasn't marrying the dashing Duke of Geese that everyone knew she was secretly in love with, and Henry's followers, the Huguenots, came from all over as well, wearing their customary black and white, carrying bags heavy with armor and weaponry so they could go straight from the festivities in Paris to the battlefield against the Spanish in

Flanders and the Netherlands. The marriage took place on a hastily erected wooden platform outside of Notre Dame Cathedral, out in the air, where everyone could see. During the ceremony, when the bishop asked Margot if she took this man to be her lawfully wedded husband, she stood completely still, unmoving, unspeaking. Her brother, King Charles the Ninth, was standing behind her, he forced her head down in a nod of assent. The wedding ceremony was complete, at least the ceremony that

involved Henry was complete. Margot and the rest of her Catholic family went inside the cathedral for Catholic Mass, where the roll of Margot's groom was symbolically occupied by Margot's brother, Anjou. As massive as a royal wedding between a Catholic and a Protestant king should have been, something even more consequential happened the very next afternoon. Admiral de Colgny, in Paris for the wedding, decided to take an afternoon walk, and while Colanny was walking, he happened to notice that a

buckle on his shoe was undone. Colonny bent down to adjust his shoe when an arrow came whizzing past him, severing a finger and breaking his elbow. Had he not been bending down at that very moment, it would have hit him directly in the heart. There would be assassin fled and went uncaptured. If you were to ask Catherine de Medici who was behind the failed assassination, she would tell you that, no doubt it was the Geese family. After all, everyone knew the geese As had a long

held grudge against Colony for personal reasons. They held Colony responsible for the death of their family patriarch during one of the many religious wars that had plagued France over the decades. But maybe the Gheese family had come to Catherine to inquire about a possible assassination of the admiral. And if they had, not, saying they did. But if they had, well, why wouldn't she say, yes, an assassination

of Colony you would solve two of her problems at once. First, it would rid her of that pesky Protestant who had so much undue influence over her son. And since everyone knew the Gheese family hated Colony, everyone would assume they were the ones responsible for it. Win win. But after the assassination failed, the Huguenots were furious. They had come into the city to celebrate a marriage meant to cement peace, only to suffer an assassination attempt on one of their

most prominent leaders. It was a disgrace. Colony went to King Charles the Ninth himself in order to demand that he got to the bottom of it. Charles promised a full investigation and the full force of his justice wherever it led. As it turns out, it led to his mother. When he came to her, Catherine de Medici closed the doors of the meeting. The fact of the matter was whoever planned the assassination attempt. The Huguenots were angry, and

the Huguenots ready to leave for battle were armed. They were probably planning their revenge, now a plot to overthrow the monarchy, to kill the king and put their own Henry of Navarre in charge. King Charles and his entire family was in danger, but there was one thing he could do. Katherine de Medici coud he could strike a preemptive attack. She and her ministers had made up a list of all of the most prominent Huguenot officials all in the city for the wedding. All they had to

do was strike while they still had the advantage. The weak king weighed his options. He looked into the smiling faces of his mother and his brother and their advisers, and then he looked back down at the list. Okay,

King Charles the Ninth said kill them all. The night before the massacre was scheduled to begin Margot spent the evening with her sister Claude in the side of the palace where their family and the rest of the Catholic wedding guests were staying, segregated from the Protestant Huguenot visitors, where Margot was supposed to be sleeping with her new husband. Since the wedding ceremony, Margot's new chambers were on the

Huguenot side. Claude had been in rooms where the Catholics had been making their furtive plans, rooms where they discussed daggers and ways into bedrooms where they had agreed upon the three a m Church bell as their starting signal. Margot knew nothing. Their mother had made that very clear. Margot could not know anything, so now here she was in Claude's room while Claude stroked and brushed her hair, completely oblivious to the fact that in five hours Hell

would be unleashed upon her new husband's clan. Claude looked down at her younger sister. Margot's head was on Claude's lap and her eyes were closed. Claude tried to attract their mother's attention without rousing marg Go. Claude made her eyes wide. Katherine de Medici looked away. Mom Claude said, finally, Camp, Margot, sleep in our rooms tonight, just for tonight. Catherine, doing her sewing, barely seemed to register what her daughter was saying.

Whatever four she responded, mom Claude said again, her voice beginning to strain around the edges. Who knew how violent the morning's assassins would be, Who knew the extent of the chaos and anarchy that could put beautiful Margot in danger? She can just stay in our rooms just tonight. Don't send her back. By now Margot was awake and concerned by the urgency and her sister's voice. Catherine continued sewing. Margot has to go back to the Huguenot rooms, otherwise

it would arouse suspicion, arouse suspicions about what. Margot asked, what's going going on? Neither Catherine nor Claude answered her, and neither made eye contact with Margot as she wrapped herself in her gown and made her way down the long hallway back to the rooms on the other side of the palace, rooms that in only a few hours would be tripping in blood. The three am Church bells

echoed through the moonless night. The first target was Admiral de Cologne, who had survived one assassination attempt but would not survive another. Half a dozen of the King's men, Swiss mercenaries, came into Colonny's room and beat him to death before they threw his body out the window. The soldiers were shaking with fear and adrenaline when they came

to kill Colangnye, but Colonny himself was remarkably calm. Hours later, when all of the killing was over, one of the mercenaries would remark that he had never seen a man less afraid of death. Perhaps he would have been afraid if he had known what was to come. The dozen or so names of the Huguenot leadership on the list were murdered in under two hours, and yet the killing

did not stop. Soon it became dreadfully apparent that the King's mercenaries were no longer the only ones doing the killing. The assassinations of the Huguenot leaders unleashed a volcano of simmering religious resentment, and before long, Catholic citizens in the streets were murdering the visiting Huguenots indiscriminately. It wasn't just the men who were killed. Women young and old were pulled into the street by their hair and drained of blood.

Children were slaughtered. Bodies were flung into the sin, which began to bubble red. Chains had been strung across the streets to prevent Huguenot from escaping. They were trapped, and the massacre was only beginning. The next afternoon, the king himself rode out onto the streets and demanded that the violence cease, that no more lives be taken. His words

went completely ignored. Margo managed to save a few lives by allowing them refuge in her room, and her husband, Henry of Navar, survived by making a quick pledge to convert to Catholicism in order to make it out of Paris and escape. The killing kept going for days. Estimates put the number of victims at three thousand in Paris alone. I say Paris alone, because as soon as word traveled that the king had allowed killing of Protestants, the massacre

spread to the provinces. In at least twelve other major cities. Protestants were slaughtered a blood bat that lasted all the way from the summer until October. The number of deaths changes depending on whether you ask the Protestants or the Catholics, but estimator as high as thirty thousand souls. The wedding that was meant to end the religious warfare in France lead to its bloodiest chapter. That's the story of the St. Bartholomew's Day massacre. Peace would eventually come to France, but

it would take just a little bit longer. Keep listening after this brief sponsor break to hear about what Henry of Navarre did next. The throne in France operated under Salak law, which meant that only men linked through a patrol in old bloodline were eligible to become king. After the death of King Charles the Ninth at fourteen from tuberculosis,

his brother Henry the Third became king. But Henry didn't have any children, and so when the family's final son, Anjou, died, the next man in line for the French throne became

Henry of Navarre, a Protestant. The thought of a Protestant taking the throne launched what became known as the War of the Three Henry's, with King Henry the Third facing off against Henry of Navarre, while a third, Henry, the Duke of Gus, tried to establish his own claim to the throne with the help of his many Catholic supporters. Margot's brother, her husband, and her first love were waging war.

Henry the third had the Duke of Guy's murdered, thinking that if he were the only Catholic Henry left, he surely would have support of the people. Unfortunately, the Duke of Gus was beloved, and so the move utterly backfired, with Henry's populace rising up against him. The kingdom was fractured, threatened both internally and externally by Catholics who hated Henry the Third and hated Henry of Navarre, but for different reasons.

When Henry the Third died, assassinated by a fanatical monk, Henry of Navarre became King of France, but in name only. He had not been able to take Paris militarily. But finally, in fifteen ninety three, Henry of Navarre did something unbelievable, something the royal court had been hoping that he would do since back when he first became engaged to their beautiful Margot. He converted to Catholicism. Famously. He's thought to have said Paris is well worth a mass. The French

population accepted him as their king. The Pope undid his excommunication, and in Henry of Navarre signed the Edict of Nant, which offered religious freedom, of conscience and basic civil rights for the Protestants. He had once led, well, he still led them now he was after all, they're king. Noble Blood is a production of I Heart Radio and Aaron Mankey. The show is written and hosted by Dana Schwartz and produced by Aaron Mankey, Matt Frederick, Alex Williams, and Trevor Young.

Noble Blood is on social media at Noble Blood Tales, and you can learn more about the show over at Noble blood Tales dot com. For more podcasts from I heart Radio, visit the I heart Radio app, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you listen to your favorite shows.