panied by a strong body of troops. The place was in a state of absolute starvation—to such a condition had the protracted civil war and the many massacres and émeutes which had taken place within and around its walls reduced it. Children wore running through the streets in the agonies of famine, and old and young were actually perishing on the pavement. Yet, amid all its horrors and miseries, this strange capital put on an air of high rejoicing. The streets and houses were hung with tapestry and gay carpets, and if there was little to eat, the conduits were made to run with wine. The entrance of the two kings side by side was something like that of Saul and David into Jerusalem. The acclamations of the multitude were chiefly directed towards the hero of Azincourt. At the sight of him the people seemed to think themselves almost in possession of the wealth and the fat beeves of England. The principal citizens appeared wearing the red cross, the badge of the English; and the clergy in solemn procession chanted, "Blessed is he that cometh in the name of the Lord." The next day the two queens made their entrée amid similar pageants and acclamations.
Tomb of Henry V. in Westminster Abbey.
Charles summoned the three estates of the kingdom, and explained to them in a long speech the reasons which had induced him to make "a final and perpetual peace with his dear son, the King of England." The assembly gave its unanimous approbation to the treaty, and after that the Duke of Burgundy, apparelled in deep mourning, appeared before them, and demanded justice on the assassins of his father. The king pronounced judgment against them, as guilty of high treason, and they were proclaimed incapable of holding any office or property, their vassals, at the same time, being absolved from all their oaths of fealty and obligations of service. The dauphin was mentioned as Charles, calling himself dauphin; but he was not directly implicated as the author or abettor of the crime.
At this assembly Isabella was also proclaimed regent of France during the absence of Henry, who now proceeded to England, there to introduce his queen to his subjects and to see her crowned. The whole of this journey and the coronation were like the ovation of an ancient conqueror. After spending their Christmas at Paris, Henry and his young queen sot out at the head of 6,000 men, commanded by the Duke of Bedford. They were received with great festivity at the different towns on their way; and on the 1st of February they left Calais, and landed at Dover, where, according to Monstrelet; "Catherine was received as if she had been an angel of God." The whole reception of the young conqueror and his beautiful bride was of the most enthusiastic kind.
They proceeded first to Eltham, and thence, after due rest, to London, where Catherine was crowned with high state, on the 24th of February.
She was conducted on foot from Westminster Palace to the Abbey by two bishops; "and after the coronation was ended," says Holinshed, "Queen Catherine was conveyed into the groat hall of Westminster, and there sat at dinner. Upon her right hand sat, at the end of the table, the Archbishop of Canterbury and Cardinal Beaufort. Upon the left hand of the queen sat James I., King of Scotland, under his canopy, who was served with messes in covered silver dishes, but after the aforesaid bishops. By the King of Scots sat the Duchess of York and the Countess of Huntingdon. The Countess of Kent Sit under the table, at the queen's feet, holding a napkin. The Earl of Marche, holding the queen's sceptre in his band, kneeled on the stops of the dais at her right side; the earl-marshal, holding her other sceptre, knelt on her left. The Duke of Gloucester was
