Meantime, the "little queen" had joined in the movement against Henry, in the hope that her husband would recover his crown and be restored to her, but she was soon again a captive at Havering Bower. For some time the child-widow--she was not yet thirteen--was kept in ignorance of the death of Richard. Soon, however, she was importuned by Henry IV. on behalf of Monmouth, his son, but, faithful to the memory of Richard, she rejected with horror the proposed union. Finally, all hope of the alliance being destroyed, Henry consented to Isabella's return to her parents. She had endeared herself to the hearts of the English by her graces, and especially by her steadfast devotion to Richard.

After Isabelle's return to France, Henry still persisted in suing for her hand, but it was impossible to move her determination. In 1406, it seemed that joy might yet brighten the life of this unfortunate princess, for in that year she was betrothed to her cousin, the young Charles of Orléans, whom she married in 1409. The affection of husband and wife appeared to offer every prospect of happiness, but she was permitted to enjoy her newly found state for only a brief period, as she died during the following year, a few hours after the birth of an infant daughter. The memory of this sweet but unfortunate princess is enshrined in the poetic tributes of the Duke of Orléans, nor did the English fail to sing in ballads her praise.

Women of England, Volume 9 (of 10) — Part 83

The origin of the Order of the Garter is traceable to the spirit of chivalry; it was instituted by Coeur de Lion, and in 1344 was revived by Edward III. Froissart appears to credit the story which connects the revival of the order to Edward's passion for the Countess of Salisbury, whose garter he is said to have picked up and presented to her in the presence of the court, with this exclamation: _Honi soit qui mal y pense!_ The chronicler gives us a full account of the attachment of Edward for the countess, and places in excellent light the integrity of her character. When she was besieged in her husband's castle at Wark, Edward advanced to her relief, compelling the Scots to retreat. At the interview which followed, the king looked upon her with such an air of profound thoughtfulness that she was led to inquire: "Dear sire, what are you musing on? Such meditation is not proper for you, saving your grace." "Oh, dear lady!" replied the monarch; "you must know that since I have been in this castle, some thoughts have oppressed my mind that I was not before aware of." "Dear sire, you ought to be of good cheer, and leave off such pondering; for God has been very bountiful to you in your undertakings." Whereupon the king replied with more directness: "There be other things, O sweet lady, which touch my heart, and lie heavy there, beside what you talk of. In good truth, your beauteous mien and the perfection of your face and behavior have wholly overcome me; and my peace depends on your accepting my love, which your refusal cannot abate." "My gracious liege," the countess exclaimed, "God of his infinite goodness preserve you, and drive from your noble heart all evil thoughts; for I am, and ever shall be, ready to serve you; but only in what is consistent with my honor and your own."

Women of England, Volume 9 (of 10) — Part 83