The chancellor said, that the count de Charolois and the others had made exorbitant demands for repayment of their expenses; which expenses, indeed, ought not to be greatly objected against, but they would not accept of any thing less than the whole of their demands,—and there the matter now rested until the following Friday. On this day, the young seneschal of Normandy[81] sallied out of Paris, with six hundred well-appointed horse, to skirmish with the enemy, which they did most valiantly. Among the vineyards of St Antoine des Champs, four-and-twenty Burgundians and others, pillagers, were made prisoners. They were almost all naked, and very badly drest, and sold by auction, four for a golden crown, which was then worth twenty-six sols, six deniers parisis.
The following Saturday, the Bretons won the town of Pontoise, at break of day, as Enguerrand the chronicler has simply told it; but I find in Gaguin, that one named Louis Forbier, then lieutenant-governor of Pontoise for Joachim Rohault, by false and wicked treason, conspired against his sovereign, and admitted these Bretons into the town. The said Louis had it proclaimed, that all of the company of Joachim Rohault, who would not remain, might leave the town in safety with their baggage: that, immediately on his giving up the place, he and some of his companions went to Meulan,[82] wearing the king's badge of the white cross, that they might gain admittance without difficulty. But before his arrival, those in Meulan had been informed of his treason,—and the moment he was seen from the battlements by the garrison, already under arms, they cried out to him, 'Go thy ways, for a false and disloyal traitor!' and fired some cannon at him, which forced him to retire with disgrace and shame.
The ensuing Monday, a considerable body of the enemy, by way of a morning visit, appeared at an early hour before the gate of St Anthony; but in consequence of the firing of some artillery from the walls, they retreated to a further distance, and nothing was done.
On the Monday, according to Gaguin, the watch in Paris were alarmed by an extraordinary light in the skies that looked like a comet, and seemed to move from the enemy's quarters, and to fall into the ditch near the hôtel d'Ardoise: not guessing what it could be, they thought it might have been a rocket discharged by the Burgundians, and sent immediate information thereof to the king at his hôtel of the Tournelles. He, like an active prince, mounted his horse, and went instantly on the walls, near to the hôtel d'Ardoise, where he staid some time, and sent to all the quarters of Paris, to put them on their guard; but they neither saw nor heard any thing further of the enemy that night.
The Bretons and Burgundians, quartered near Paris, made many songs, and scandalous ballads, on those in whom the king put most confidence, that he might be displeased with and dismiss them from his service, for the more easy accomplishment of their damnable designs.
One evening, about two o'clock after midnight, master John Balue, bishop of Evreux, was waylaid in the street of Barre-du-Bec, and attacked with swords and staves,—so that, being wounded, he was forced to fly, and sticking spurs into his mule, she ran away with him, like a wild thing, and never stopped until she brought him to his house, in the cloisters of Nôtre Dame, whence he had set out. The king was very angry on hearing this, and ordered inquiry to be made after the perpetrators of the deed, but in vain; for it was not known who had done it, although it was said, some time afterward, that the lord de Villier-le-bôcage was the principal, at the request of one called Jeanne du Bois, with whom he was enamoured.
At this time, Alexander l'Orget, a native of Paris, in company with four others, quitted Paris, with all his effects, and joined the duke of Berry at St Denis. On the Thursday following, toward the end of September, many of the townsmen came to make heavy complaints to the magistrates, at the town-hall, against the military, for making and singing defamatory songs against them, praying that a remedy might be provided, to prevent such conduct in future. The words complained of were in substance as follows. They swore by God, and other shocking oaths, that the wealth and riches in Paris did not belong to the inhabitants but to them, the men at arms now in the town,—saying, 'We wish you to know that, in despite of you, we will take away the keys of your houses, and throw you and all within them out of doors; and if you chatter, we are enow in Paris to master you all.'
Among others, a fool from Normandy said aloud, at the gate of St Denis, that the Parisians were simpler than he was, if they thought the chains that were across the streets could prevent them from being insulted by those now in the town. In consequence of such speeches, the magistrates ordered the heads of the different wards to have good fires lighted during the night at their places of rendezvous, and that the whole of the night-watch should be there regularly under arms: the chains were also kept up, and the town more strictly watched in the night than before, until daybreak.