The English camp contained the same number of tents, but the one that stood in front of it, with the standard bearing the leopards of England, was like a vast round tower.
The most stringent regulations were proclaimed in both camps to avoid the slightest danger of any disputes arising to endanger the harmony of the meeting on which hung the peace and welfare of two kingdoms.
None but the immediate escorts were to be armed; it was forbidden to throw stones, pick quarrels, or play any game that could lead to them, and the conferences went on amicably for several days, being disturbed only by a violent storm which tore up many tents in the French camp, tearing the silk lining of them to shreds, while only four of the English tents suffered. Torrents of rain fell, and superstitious fears were entertained that some calamity was about to happen. “But,” says the worthy chronicler of St. Denis, “on learning the result of the conference, they rather thought the enemy of the repose of mankind who dwells among the shades of darkness had thus given vent to his fury because he had not been able to throw any obstacle in the way of peace.”[163]
The young Queen, who had been married by proxy to Richard in Paris, set off for St. Denis with great pomp, where she performed her devotions according to the ancient custom, and then continued her journey.
The King of England had been dining with the King of France, waited upon by the Dukes of Burgundy, Berry, and Bourbon, both monarchs having been much entertained by the amusing conversation of the last-mentioned prince, when the sound of trumpets and other music announced the approach of the young Queen of England, who entered the camp with a procession of surpassing magnificence, wearing royal robes covered with _fleurs-de-lis_, a gentleman of her train carrying a crown of gold before her carriage. The Duchesses of Lancaster and Gloucester came forward to pay their homage, and the Dukes of Burgundy, Berry, and Orléans advanced, and one of them taking her in his arms carried her to her father, who led her by the hand to the King of England, saying, “_Mon fils, voici ma fille que je vous avais promise, je vous la laisse, en vous priant de l’aimer désormais comme votre femme._” Richard II. was a most imposing personage. To the stately bearing of the Plantagenets he united the far-famed beauty of his mother, the Fair Maid of Kent. As the little Queen bent before him he raised her up and kissed her, after which he took his leave.[164] She was placed in a splendid litter in which she was to proceed to her husband’s town of Calais, accompanied by the Duchesses of Lancaster, York, Gloucester, and other great English ladies, with the Dame de Coucy, who was to go with her to England. She began to cry and sob at parting from her father and uncles; Charles VI., who was extremely fond of her, cried too, and the Dukes also shed tears.[165] The King and Queen were married again at the Church of St. Nicolas at Calais, and the day after that embarked for England. Before going on board ship, finding that her French attendants were to be dismissed, the poor little thing began to cry again, and begged King Richard to let them go with her, to which he at once consented, so they accompanied her to England.[166]