If this be true, it maybe inferred that the author would have given an appearance of verisimilitude to his fiction by mentioning the actual habitues of the dauphin’s court.  The name of the Count of Charolais does not appear at all.  The duke tells three or more stories according to the interpretation given to Monseigneur.  With three exceptions the tales are very coarse, nor does their wit atone for their licentiousness.  Possibly Charles held himself aloof from the kind of talk they suggest.  All reports make him rigid in standards of morality not observed by his fellows.  That he had little to do with the court is certain, whatever his reason.

Louis did not confine himself to the estate assigned him.  There were various court visits to the Flemish towns where he was afforded excellent opportunities for seeing the wealth of the burghers and their status in the world of commerce.

Ghent was very anxious to have the duke bring his guest within her gates and give her an opportunity of displaying her regret for the past unpleasantness.  “In his goodness,” Philip at last yielded to their entreaties to make them a visit himself, but he decided not to take the prince or the count with him.[12] He was either afraid for their safety or else he did not care to bring a future French king into relation with citizens who might find it convenient to remember his suzerainty in order to ignore the wishes of their sovereign duke.[13]

Eastertide, 1458, was finally appointed for this state visit of reconciliation.  The duke took the precaution to send scouts ahead to ascertain that the late rebels were sincere in their contrition, and that there was no danger of anarchist agitations.  The report was brought back that all was calm and that joyful preparations were making to show appreciation of Philip’s kindness.

On April 22d, the duke slept at l’Ecluse, and on the 23d he was gaily escorted into the city by knights and gentlemen summoned from Holland, Hainaut, and Flanders, “but neither clerks nor priests were in his train.”  As a further assurance to him of their peaceful intention, the citizens actually lifted the city gates off their hinges so as to leave open exits.

Once within the walls, the duke found the whole community, who had shown intelligent and sturdy determination not to endure arbitrary tyranny, ready to weave themselves into a frenzy of biblical and classical parable whose one purpose was to prove how evil had been their ways.  A pompous procession sang Te Deum as the duke rode in, and the first “mystery” that met his eyes within the gates was a wonderful representation of Abraham sacrificing Isaac, while the legend “All that the Lord commanded we will do,” was meant not to refer to the Hebrew’s fidelity to Jehovah, but to the Ghenters’ perfect submission to Philip.  A young girl stood ready to greet him with the words of Solomon, “I have found one my soul loves."[14]