them as fines. Edward III. kept large numbers of them near his palace at Waltham, not far from Epping Forest, so that they might always be handy when he wished to hunt. The greyhounds have disappeared, but they have left their name behind them, and the place of the royal kennels is still known as the Isle of Dogs.
In the reign of Queen Elizabeth a set of rules for the sport was drawn up by the Duke of Norfolk, and by these rules any doubtful question is still judged. The Queen delighted in coursing, which in those days meant the chasing of deer as well as of hares, and even when she did not care to follow herself, used to sit on some high place and look on from afar. The Stuarts, too, always had greyhounds about them, and of course the courtiers shared their taste; and many are the pictures of the seventeenth century where greyhounds have had, like their mistresses, their portraits painted by the most famous artists.
Froissart, the chronicler, tells a curious story of a greyhound that belonged to Richard II., and was so fond of his master that he did not seem to know there was any one else in the world. It was the only friend the king had when he was imprisoned in the Castle of Flint, and Richard believed that it was clever enough to understand things that had not yet come to pass. ‘It was informed me,’ says Froissart, ‘that Kyng Richard had a grayhound called Mathe, who always waited upon the Kynge, and would know no one else. For whensoever the Kynge did ryde, he that kept the grayhound, did let him lose, and he wolde streyght runne to the Kynge and fawne upon him, and leap with his fore fete upon the Kynge’s shoulders. And as the Kynge and the Erle of Derby talked togyder in the courte, the Grayhounde, who was wont to leape upon the Kynge, left the Kynge, and came to the Erle of Derby, Duke of Lancaster, and made to him the same friendly countinuance and chere as he was wont to do to the Kynge. The Duke, who knew not
