and to his sword to defend his right.1 No one could blame him for a feeling and a spirit so natural; but neither he nor his supporters were a match for a Henry or a Burgundy. He was soon driven beyond the Loire, and in danger of destruction. Nor did he at this period show a disposition, by any great effort, to brave and overcome his adverse fortune. Considering himself unequal to any further contest, he temporized, and retired for a while into Auvergne, attempting no further opposition to the rival successor of his father's throne.

Soon after these transactions, Henry's affairs required his presence in England, and he determined to cross the seas without delay. Before his departure, having promised the Duke of Burgundy that he would endeavour to make the young Prince account for the part he had taken in the death of the late Duke, he caused a trumpet and a herald, with all the customary ceremonies, to summon 'Charles, Duke of Touraine and Dauphin, to appear at the marble table, before the Parliament of Paris, to answer for himself and his accomplices to the charge made against him and

1 He had just cause to complain, for the clause that renounced him in the treaty of Troyes ran thus: 'Considering the horrible and enormous crimes that have been perpetrated in our kingdom of France' (they were resistance to the English in the towns they besieged), 'by Charles, calling himself Dauphin of Vienne, it is agreed that neither our said son Henry nor our well-beloved Philip, Duke of Burgundy, shall enter into any treaty of peace or concord with the said Charles without the consent of us and our council, and the three estates of the realm for that purpose assembled.' The first signature to this treaty was that of the Dauphin's weak and unfortunate father!

THE DAUPHIN'S SENTENCE.

9

them respecting the murder of the late Jean-Sans-Peur, Duke of Burgundy.'1

But the Dauphin, who knew well that the Bastille was very near the Parliament, and that his enemies would not be slow to find a pretext for giving him a lodgment. therein, was much too wise to answer such a summons; he neither went himself, nor sent any one to reply to the appellant. He was therefore deemed contumacious by the Parliament, sentenced to be banished the realm, and pronounced incapable of succeeding to any lands or lordships, or to the succession of the crown of France. From this sentence, as will be seen in due course, the Dauphin and his adherents made their appeal to the sword; but at present we must leave them and speak of Henry and Catherine.

After giving birth in England to a son, the young Queen crossed the seas, landed at Harfleur, and, escorted by the Duke of Bedford, proceeded to meet her husband (who had returned to France some time before herself) at Vincennes, where, attended by a noble retinue, he came from Meaux to receive her. Even if seen in the humblest, who can describe the charm attached to youthful beauty? But when it comes before us combined with royalty and queenly state, it seems as if more than of earthly mould. So did it strike those who then beheld Catherine. Her infant son was in her arms; and what is more lovely or

1 Princes and persons of high rank were summoned for offences to appear before the marble table of the Parliament. See Monstrelet.

endearing than the sight of a fair young mother with her innocent offspring on her bosom? 'She was received by the King and his company,' says Monstrelet,' as if she had been an angel from heaven.'

Great was the public rejoicing; and Charles, who seems to have been sufficiently sensible at the time, expressed pleasure at the return of his daughter and at the sight of his little grandson. His Queen likewise welcomed them. On the 30th of May the royal party entered Paris in state. The King and Queen of England were lodged in the Palace (then a castle) of the Louvre, and Charles and Isabella at the Hôtel de St. Pol. Both households celebrated the feast of Pentecost, which fell soon after.

Henry and his Queen kept it in solemn state, apparelled gorgeously in ermine and cloth of gold, the crowns of royalty encircling their brows, radiant with diamonds and. precious stones. Surrounded by princes, peers, bannerets, knights, and a host of the fairest dames and damsels of the land, they were ushered into the festal hall by sound of trumpet and clarion, and took their seats at a table covered with the rarest viands and the choicest wines. Again the trumpet sounded; and the doors being thrown. open, in rushed the citizens of Paris to look on the splendid scene; of which the beautiful Catherine, in the midst of her ladies, like a rose in a gay parterre, was the loveliest flower of all. The Parisians gazed till they were tired; but as neither meats nor even a cup of wine

CHARLES NEGLECTED.

1 I

was offered to them, it became tantalizing to look on such abundance and not to taste it; and they went away dissatisfied, saying that in former days, when the French kings kept open court, meat and drink was given to all comers to their heart's content.

But the reigning King of France, the feeble in body and in mind, who in his palmy days, and whilst he was himself, had been so liberal and gracious to his people-where was he? In the somewhat obscure Hôtel de St. Pol, seated at table with his heartless Queen, with few attendants, little or no observance, deserted by the nobles, his kingdom and government passed away, and himself considered with a disrespect somewhat like that shown by Regan to her father Lear, when he had given the staff out of his own hand:

'Oh, sir, you are old;

Nature in you stands on the very verge

Of her confines. You should be rul'd and led
By some discretion that discerns your state
Better than you yourself.'

Many loyal hearts among his French subjects saw how he was neglected, and wept for him; but fear follows conquest with unerring power, and the dread of Henry's arms was universal. Soon after his return to France he laid an impost on silver for the purpose of a new coinage. This gave dissatisfaction; there was much murmuring, but in a very subdued tone. Perhaps the citizens fancied that the word Agincourt might be stamped upon the coin, the

recollection and the terror of that fatal field being fresh in every mind.

But Henry's triumphs and displays of regal splendour were of no long continuance. In less than two years after his marriage, and only nine months after the birth of his son, he was himself conquered by the power that levels all estates, and lays all earthly glory in the dust. In the midst of new plans of policy and enterprises of arms, Henry fell sick. His state was considered serious; he called around his sick-bed his uncle of Exeter, his brothers Clarence and Gloucester, and sent a hasty summons for his eldest brother, the Duke of Bedford. To them he committed the care and interests of his successor and of both his realms. He desired that the Regency for France on behalf of his son should in the first instance be offered to the Duke of Burgundy; but if he declined, then that Bedford should assume it. He appointed Gloucester in the same position for England, and the Earl of Warwick to be the personal guardian of the child. He further recommended Bedford to keep in durance the French Princes, then prisoners from Agincourt, in London, particularly the Duke of Orleans; and above all, if he should fail in conquering the whole of France, or in securing the crown of that country for the infant Henry, never to enter on any treaty with Charles the Dauphin unless he consented to resign Normandy wholly to the crown of England. Finally, he recommended to their care his Queen, who was absent. He ended by a melancholy