Small was the ring, and small in truth the finger:
What then? the faith was large that dropped it down.
Aubrey De Vere, INFANT BRIDAL
Setting aside the consideration of the risk, the baby-weddings of
the Middle Ages must have been very pretty sights.
So the Court of France thought the bridal of Henri Beranger
Eustache de Ribaumont and of Marie Eustacie Rosalie de Rebaumont du
Nid-de-Merle, when, amid the festivals that accompanied the
signature of the treaty of Cateau-Cabresis, good-natured King Henri
II. presided merrily at the union of the little pair, whose unite
ages did not reach ten years.
There they stood under the portal of Notre-Dame, the little
bridegroom in a white velvet coat, with puffed sleeves, slashed
with scarlet satin, as were the short, also puffed breeches meeting
his long white knitted silk stockings some way above the knee;
large scarlet rosettes were in his white shoes, a scarlet knot
adorned his little sword, and his velvet cap of the same colour
bore a long white plume, and was encircled by a row of pearls of
priceless value.
They are no other than that garland of pearls
which, after a night of personal combat before the walls of Calais,
Edward III. of England took from his helmet and presented to Sir
Eustache de Ribaumont, a knight of Picardy, bidding him say
everywhere that it was a gift from the King of England to the
bravest of knights.
The precious heirlooms were scarcely held with the respect due to
an ornament so acquired. The manly garb for the first time assumed
by his sturdy legs, and the possession of the little sword, were
evidently the most interesting parts of the affair to the youthful
husband, who seemed to find in them his only solace for the weary
length of the ceremony. He was a fine, handsome little fellow,
fair and rosy, with bright blue eyes, and hair like shining flax,
unusually tall and strong-limbed for his age; and as he gave his
hand to his little bride, and walked with her under a canopy up to
kneel at the High Altar, for the marriage blessing and the mass,
they looked like a full-grown couple seen through a diminishing-
glass.
The little bride was perhaps a less beautiful child, but she had a
splendid pair of black eyes, and a sweet little mouth, both set
into the uncomprehending solemnity of baby gravity and contentment
in fine clothes. In accordance with the vow indicated by her name
of Marie, her dress was white and blue, turquoise forget-me-nots
bound the little lace veil on her dark chestnut hair, the bosom of
her white satin dress was sprinkled with the same azure jewel, and
turquoises bordered every seam of the sweeping skirt with a train
befitting a count's daughter, and meandered in gorgeous
constellations round the hem. The little thing lisped her own vows
forth without much notion of their sense, and indeed was sometimes
prompted by her bridesmaid cousin, a pretty little girl a year
older, who thrust in her assistance so glibly that the King, as
well as others of the spectators, laughed, and observed that she
would get herself married to the boy instead of her cousin.