When the fugitive reached the French court, however, he was amply recompensed for all his losses.[35] For, naturally, at his flight, all his Burgundian estates were abandoned.[36] It was at six o’clock on the morning of August 8th that the deed was signed whereby the duke transferred to the Seigneur de Quievrain all the rights appertaining to Philip de Commines, “which rights together with all the property of whatever kind have escheated to us by virtue of confiscation because he has to-day, the date of this document, departed from our obedience and gone as a fugitive to the party opposed to us."[37]

There are various surmises as to the cause of this precipitate departure.  Not improbable is the suggestion that Charles often overstepped the bounds of courtesy towards his followers.  Once, so runs one story, he found the historian sleeping on his bed where he had flung himself while awaiting his master.  Charles pulled off one of his boots “to give him more ease” and struck him in the face with it.  In derision the courtiers called Commines tete bottee, and their mocking sank deep into his soul.

Contemporary writers make little of the chronicler’s defection.  These crossings from the peer’s to the king’s camp were accepted occurrences.  But by Charles they were not accepted.  There is a vindictive look about the hour when he disposes of his late confidant’s possessions, only explicable by intense indignation not itemised in the deed approved by the court of Mons.[38]

More loyal was that other chronicler, Olivier de la Marche, though to him, also, came intimations that he would find a pleasant welcome at the French court.  He, too, had opportunities galore to make links with Louis.  The accounts teem with references to his secret missions here and there, and with mention of the rewards paid, all carefully itemised.  So zealous was this messenger on his master’s commissions, that his hackneys were ruined by his fast riding and had to be sold for petty sums.  The keen eye of Louis XI. was not blind to the quality of La Marche’s services, and he thought that they, too, might be diverted to his use.[39]

“Monsieur du Bouchage, Guillaume de Thouars has told me that Messire Olivier de la Marche is willing to enter my service and I am afraid that there may be some deception.  However, there is nothing that I would like better than to have the said Sieur de Cimay, as you know.  Therefore, pray find out how the matter stands, and if you see that it is in good earnest work for it with all diligence.  Whatever you pledge I will hold to.  Advise me of everything.

    “Written at Clery, October 16th [1472].

    “To our beloved and faithful councillor and chancellor, Sire du
    Bouchage."[40]

But La Marche was not tempted, and was rewarded for his fidelity by high office in a duchy which, shortly after these events, was “annexed” to his master’s domain.