King Richard commenced his march to Ireland, May 1399: he tarried some hours at Windsor-castle, on his road to the western coast, in order to bid his young queen farewell before he departed for Ireland. Although only eleven years of age, .Isabella had grown tall and very lovely; she was rapidly assuming a womanly appearance. The king seemed greatly struck with the improvement in her person, and the progress she had made in her education. He treated her with the utmost deference; and, if the chronicles' of her country are to be believed, he entirely won her young heart at this interview. Yet he had sent to dwell with her witnesses, whose deep grief and mournful habiliments for the loss of a husband and father could have told their young queen, even if their lips dared not speak, that the king had stained his hands with kindred blood. According to Froissart, Richard II. had sent the widowed duchess of Gloucester and her daughters to reside with Isabella at Windsor,-apparently under some species of restraint.

Before king Richard left Windsor-castle, he discovered that considerable reforms were required in his consort's establishment. The lady de Coucy, his cousin-german, was the queen's governess and principal lady of honour; but, on his arrival at Windsor, it was represented to him that this lady took as much state upon her as if she had been in the situation of her mother, the princess-royal of England, or even the queen herself. In fact, the extravagance of the lady de Coucy knew no bounds; "for," said the king's informer," she has eighteen horses at her command. But this does not suffice; she has a large train belonging to her husband, and in his livery, whenever she comes and goes. She keeps two or three goldsmiths, two or three cutlers, and two or three furriers constantly employed, as much as you and your queen. is also building a chapel that will cost 1400 nobles." Exasperated at this extravagance, the king dismissed the lady de Coucy from her office in the queen's establishment: he paid all the debts she had incurred, and commanded her to leave 1 Monstrelet and the MS. of the Ambassades.

She

the country forthwith,-an order she certainly disobeyed, as will afterwards be seen. In the place of this lady, Richard appointed the widowed lady Mortimer,' who was his own niece Eleanor; to her he gave the precious charge of his fair young consort.

The scene of Richard's parting from Isabella was Windsor church. He had previously assisted at a solemn mass, and indulged his musical tastes by chanting a collect; he likewise made a rich offering. On leaving the church, he partook of wine and comfits at the door with his little consort; then lifting her up in his arms, he kissed her repeatedly, saying, "Adieu, madame! adieu, till we meet again." The king immediately resumed his march to Bristol, and embarked on his ill-timed expedition to Ireland.

Henry of Bolingbroke landed with hostile intentions at Ravenspur, in Yorkshire, July 4, the same summer, during Richard's absence. His invasion had an immediate effect on the destination of the little queen Isabella; the regent York hurried her from the castle of Windsor to the still stronger fortress of Wallingford, where she remained while England was lost by her royal lord, and won by his rival Henry of Bolingbroke.

After landing at Milford-Haven on his return from Ireland, king Richard took shelter among the Welsh castles still loyal to him. Here he might have found refuge till a re-action in his favour in England gave hopes of better times; but the king's luxurious habits made the rough living at these castles intolerable to him. Indeed, as the chronicler De Marque declares, "they were totally unfurnished, and that Richard had to sleep on straw during his sojourn in Wales. He endured this inconvenience for five or six nights; but, in truth, a farthing's worth of victuals was not to be found at any of them. Certes, I cannot tell the misery of the king's train, even at Caernarvon. He then returned to Conway, where he thus bewailed his absence from his wife, of whom he was very

The whole of this passage is drawn from the MS. of the Ambassades. Lady Mortimer was Eleanor Holland.

fond." The following seems a little poem, that the king composed in his tribulation: "My mistress and my consort, accursed be the man who thus separateth us! I am dying of grief because of it. My fair sister, my lady, and my sole desire! since I am robbed of the pleasure of beholding thee, such pain and affliction oppresseth my whole heart, that I am ofttimes near despair. Alas, Isabel! rightful daughter of France! you were wont to be my joy, my hope, my consolation. And now I plainly see, that through the violence of fortune, which hath slain many a man, I must be deprived of you; whereat I often endure so sincere a pang, that day and night I am in danger of bitter death. And it is no marvel, when I from such a height hath fallen so low, and lose my joy, my solace, and my consort."

Henry of Bolingbroke, it is said, gained possession, by a coup-de-main, of 700,000l., the treasury of the unfortunate Richard. With amazing celerity Henry traversed England, attended by sixty thousand Londoners and other malcontents, who had been disgusted with Richard's despotic government. With this disorderly militia Henry presented himself before the gates of Flint-castle, where Richard and a few faithful knights remained on the defensive. Here he boldly demanded an audience with the king, who agreed to admit him, and eleven others, to pass the wicket of the castle. Henry spoke aloud, without paying any honour or reverence to the king, asking, "Have you broken your fast?" The king answered, "No; it is yet early morn. Why do you ask?"—" It is time you should breakfast," replied Henry, "for you have a great way to ride."-"What road?" asked the king. "You must wend to London," said Henry; "and I advise that you eat and drink heartily, that you may perform the journey more gaily."-"Well," said the king, "if that is the case, let the tables be covered."

When this was done, the king washed his hands, seated

1 Archæologia, from the MS. of a French gentleman, an attendant on Richard, translated by the rev. Mr. Webbe.

2 Froissart.

himself at table, and was served. During the time the king was eating, which was not long, for his heart was much oppressed, the whole country, seen from the windows of the castle, was covered with men-at-arms and archers. The king, on rising from the table, perceived them, and asked his cousin who they were? "For most part Londoners," was the answer. "And what do they want?" inquired the king. "They want to take you," replied Henry, "and carry you prisoner to the Tower; and there is no pacifying them, unless you yield yourself my prisoner." The king was alarmed at this intimation, for he knew the Londoners hated him, and would kill him if he were ever in their power; he therefore yielded himself prisoner to his cousin, promising to do whatever he should advise. His knights and officers surrendered likewise to Henry, who, in the presence of the eleven that accompanied him, received the king and his attendants as prisoners. He then ordered the horses to be saddled instantly and brought into the court, and the gates of the castle to be flung open; whereupon many archers and men-at-arms crowded into the court-yard.

"I heard," says Froissart, "of a singular circumstance that happened just then, which I must mention. King Richard had a greyhound, named Math, beautiful beyond description, who would not notice or follow any one but the king. Whenever Richard rode abroad, the greyhound was loosed by the person who had the care of him: and that instant he ran to caress his royal master, by placing his two fore-feet on his shoulders. It fell out, that as the king and his cousin Henry of Bolingbroke were conversing in the court-yard of Flint-castle, their horses being preparing for them to mount, the greyhound Math was untied, when, instead of running as usual to king Richard, he passed him and leaped to Henry's shoulders, paying him every court, the same as he used to his own master. Henry, not acquainted with this greyhound, asked the king the meaning of his fondness? 'Cousin,' replied Richard, 'it means a great deal for you, and very little for me.'-' How?' said Henry; 'pray explain it.'—' I understand by it,' said the unfortunate king, 'that this my favourite

greyhound Math fondles and pays his court to you this day as king of England, which you will be, and I shall be deposed, for that the natural instinct of the creature perceives. Keep him, therefore, by your side; for lo! he leaveth me, and will ever follow you.' Henry treasured up what king Richard had said, and paid attention to the greyhound Math, who would no more follow Richard of Bourdeaux, but kept by the side of Henry, as was witnessed by thirty thousand men.'

The attendants of king Richard have chronicled the humiliations and sufferings of their royal master, on this pilgrimage of sorrow and degradation, with a more indignant pen than that of Froissart, declaring that, to grieve and break the spirit of the royal captive, his fine-spirited horses were taken from him, and he was compelled to perform every stage on sorry, miserable jades, not worth ten shillings. This was a deep mortification, since among the king's luxuries he had indulged an expensive taste for noble and costly steeds. The king attempted to escape at Lichfield, where he dropped from a window of the tower in which he slept; but was perceived, and brought by force into Lichfield-castle again. As far as Coventry, parties of the king's faithful Welshmen pursued Henry of Bolingbroke's army, and harassed its rear. were instigated and led by Richard's beloved squire and minstrel, Owen Glendower, who, from the hour when his royal patron became the prisoner of "aspiring Bolingbroke,” vowed and maintained a life-long enmity against the supplanter of his king.2

They

The young queen found herself in the power of the usurper almost simultaneously with her unfortunate husband. Directly the news arrived that Richard had surrendered himself, the garrisons of the royal castles of Windsor and Wallingford yielded to Henry of Bolingbroke. Tradition declares that the young Isabella met her luckless husband on the road,

1 Froissart.

2 Among the most beautiful of the Welsh melodies still exists the well-known air, "Sweet Richard." Tradition declares this melody was composed by Glendower about this time, as a tribute of regret to his unfortunate prince; it was afterwards sung and played in the many risings in favour of Richard, with the same powerful effect that the celebrated Jacobite airs had on the partisans of the house of Stuart.