After the marriage ceremony had been performed in the pavilion,[553] Henry led his bride into the Church of Notre Dame to hear mass, and then withdrew with Condé, the admiral, and other lords, who passed the interval walking up and down the cathedral close. The historian De Thou, then a youth at college, was among the spectators of the ceremony. After the bridal train had left the church, he leaped over the barriers, and found himself close to the admiral, who was showing Damville the banners captured at Jarnac and Moncontour, which hung as trophies from the wall. “I heard him say,” continues De Thou: “Ere long these will be down, and others more agreeable to the eyes put up in their place.” Henry conducted his wife to the bishop’s palace, where a magnificent dinner had been prepared for them; but there was no dancing: not that bishops had any objection to such amusements, but because there was no time, for a magnificent supper awaited all the wedding-party at the Louvre. The next three days were passed in festivities, balls and banquets, masques and tourneys, in which both Huguenots and Catholics took part. Old enmities seemed forgotten.[554] In all these amusements Henry of Navarre distinguished himself. He had a kind word for every body, was ready with jest and humor, charmed the ladies by his gallantry, which, though rather unpolished (for he had seen more of camps than of courts) was the more pleasing from its novelty. Charles grew fonder of him than ever, while his dislike for Anjou increased proportionately.