On his way a man cried out, “By God, sir, if
I had been listened to, you would never have entered
in here; but, after all, you will get but little by
it.” The Count of Tancarville, who was
in the prince’s train, drew his sword, and “spurred
his horse upon this rascal;” but the dauphin
restrained him, and contented himself with saying smilingly
to the man, “You will not be listened to, fair
sir.” Charles had the spirit of coolness
and discretion; and “he thought,” says
his contemporary, Christine de Pisan, “that
if this fellow had been slain, the city which had
been so rebellious might probably have been excited
thereby.” Charles, on being resettled in
Paris, showed neither clemency nor cruelty.
He let the reaction against Stephen Marcel run its
course, and turned it to account without further exciting
it or prolonging it beyond measure. The property
of some of the condemned was confiscated; some attempts
at a conspiracy for the purpose of avenging the provost
of trades-men were repressed with severity, and John
Maillart and his family were loaded with gifts and
favors. On becoming king, Charles determined
himself to hold his son at the baptismal font; but
Robert Lecocq, Bishop of Laon, the most intimate of
Marcel’s accomplices, returned quietly to his
diocese; two of Marcel’s brothers, William and
John, owing their protection, it is said, to certain
youthful reminiscences on the prince’s part,
were exempted from all prosecution; Marcels widow even
recovered a portion of his property; and as early
as the 10th of August, 1358, Charles published an
amnesty, from which he excepted only “those who
had been in the secret council of the provost of tradesmen
in respect of the great treason;” and on the
same day another amnesty quashed all proceedings for
deeds done during the Jacquery, “whether by nobles
or ignobles.” Charles knew that in acts
of rigor or of grace impartiality conduces to the
strength and the reputation of authority.
The death of Stephen Marcel and the ruin of his party
were fatal to the plots and ambitious hopes of the
King of Navarre. At the first moment he hastened
to renew his alliance with the King of England, and
to recommence war in Normandy, Picardy, and Champagne
against the regent of France. But several of
his local expeditions were unsuccessful; the temperate
and patient policy of the regent rallied round him
the populations aweary of war and anarchy; negotiations
were opened between the two princes; and their agents
were laboriously discussing conditions of peace when
Charles of Navarre suddenly interfered in person, saying,
“I would fain talk over matters with the lord
duke regent, my brother.” We know that
his wife was Joan of France, the dauphin’s sister.
“Hereat there was great joy,” says the
chronicler, “amongst their councillors.
The two princes met, and the King of Navarre with modesty
and gentleness addressed the regent in these terms:
’My lord duke and brother, know that I do hold
you to be my proper and especial lord; though I have