Nothing was neglected which could assist in imparting to that extraordinary religious function all desirable pomp and splendor. Extensive preparations were made. From Paris to Nantes public curiosity was inflamed by all the expedients in vogue at that time; that is to say, the execution was announced by all preachers and curés from their pulpits.
On the appointed day, three superb galleries, the central and most sumptuous of which was reserved for the royal family, were erected on the platform of the château at the foot of which the bloody drama was to be enacted.
Around the square were wooden benches filled with all the faithful from the neighborhood who could be got together, willingly or on compulsion. The bourgeoisie and peasants, who might have had some distaste for such a grewsome spectacle, were induced to go either by threats or bribes; some had their taxes remitted; others were threatened with the loss of their offices or their privileges as freemen. All these divers motives, added to the morbid curiosity of some and the fanaticism of others, caused such a concourse of people at Amboise that more than ten thousand were encamped in the fields the night before the fatal day.
Early in the morning of the 15th the roofs of all the houses in the town were covered with a moving mass; and windows looking upon the square were let for ten crowns,—which was an enormous price for the time.
A vast scaffold, draped in black cloth, was erected in the middle of the enclosure. On it was to be seen the chouquet,—a block upon which each of the condemned had to rest his head while he knelt to receive the blow. Near by a chair draped in black was reserved for the clerk, whose duty it was to call the names of the gentlemen one by one, and read aloud the sentence of each in succession.
The square was guarded by the Scotch company and the gendarmes of the royal household.
After solemn Mass in the chapel of St. Florentin, the condemned men were led to the foot of the scaffold. Several of them had already been subjected to the torture. They were surrounded by monks, who tried to make them renounce their heretical principles; but not one of the Huguenots consented thus to apostatize before death, and they steadfastly refused to reply to the monks, whom they suspected of being spies of the Cardinal de Lorraine.
Meanwhile the galleries reserved for the court were filled, except the one in the centre. The king and queen, whose consent to be present at the execution had almost to be torn from them by force, had at last succeeded in obtaining leave to postpone their attendance till toward the end, when only the principal chiefs remained to be punished. If they would but come at some time, that was all the cardinal asked. Poor royal children! Poor crowned slaves! They, as well as the peasants, had been prevailed upon by arousing their fear for their offices and privileges.
At noon the execution began.
When the first of the condemned men mounted the steps of the scaffold, his companions thundered out a French psalm, translated by Clément Marot, as much to afford him on whom the punishment was about to fall some last consolation as to mark their own constancy in the face of their enemies and their doom.