In the same year, David Bruce, son of Robert Bruce, formerly king of the Scots, being about thirteen years old, together with his wife, the sister of the king of England, left Scotland, fleeing the malice of his enemies so that he might be protected under the wings of the king of France. He was brought into France by certain well-disposed supporters, especially by a certain noble esquire named Andrew of Kirkpatrick, who devoted himself, together with his goods, in the church of Basilica of Saint-Denis, in which he was finally buried. The king granted him the castle of Château Gaillard in Normandy to reside in.
Around the feast of Saint Michael, the king of England, wishing to invade the kingdom of France, gathered a large army of English, Brabanters, and Germans. The king of France therefore assembled his army against him at Saint-Quentin in Vermandois; but the king of England had already entered the kingdom of France in hostile fashion and had devastated no small part of Thérouanne. And when murmuring and scandal arose among the people because the king did not confront him, the king of France at last met him, on a certain Friday, at a place commonly called Buironfosse. No longer wishing to delay battle, he took up arms and encouraged the others to fight bravely. But behold, certain men, led I know not by what spirit, said that battle was not suitable, putting forward four reasons: namely, reverence for the day, since it was Friday; that he had ridden five leagues; that neither he nor his horses had tasted food or drink; and also because of the difficulty of a certain pass lying between them and their enemies. For these reasons the aforesaid counsellors advised that the battle be delayed until the next day. And although the king unwillingly yielded to such arguments, he nevertheless finally consented, commanding all to prepare for battle on the morrow. This delay proved ruinous both to the king and to the whole kingdom of France, for when the king of England heard of the king’s strength, he began his flight at midnight and withdrew into the Empire. Thus, deprived of the object of his desire, King Philip of France returned ingloriously into France.
The judgment of Conflans, which allowed Charles of Blois to render homage to the king of France for the duchy of Brittany, was issued on 7 September 1341 (Dom Morice, Preuves de l’histoire de Bretagne, vol. 1, col. 1421). Prior to this date, the count of Montfort, without himself going to England, as Jean Froissart claims, had entered into negotiations with Edward III of England, who, on 22 June 1341, sent to Brittany Gauvain Gorder and Richard Swasham to examine the proposals of the rival of Charles of Blois (Public Record Office, Exchequer, Queen’s Remembrancer, Navy, 602/8).
288. The city of Paris rejects the King of Navarre and is restored to the Lord Duke. At that same time, the lord duke, regent of the kingdom, seeing that the most famous city of the kingdom had rebelled against him as against a public enemy, had summoned the enemies of the kingdom against him to its aid, and had set over itself an invader of the kingdom, decided, as though matters were desperate, to withdraw into the Dauphiné like an outlawed exile. Yet while he was thinking of these things, and on the very night when he had ordered the loaded wagons to go on ahead, he most devoutly commended his cause to God, the Blessed Virgin Mary and Saint Denis. Having bound himself to them most devoutly by a special vow, on the following day the city came back to his obedience in the manner that follows. The Provost of the Merchants and his followers, already wishing to carry out the wickedness they had conceived by promising the lordship of the city to the King of Navarre, had already caused the doors of the houses of those who opposed them to be marked, so that, when he entered, they might be recognised and put to death by various tortures. And, in order to anticipate his reception with a cheerful welcome and royal lavishness, they had already prepared delicate foods. But when, on the appointed day, they tried in vain, as a precaution, to hand over the keys of the Saint-Denis gate to those who adhered to them, the guards replied that they were just as sufficient as those whom they wished to substitute. Thereupon a tumultuous dispute in words arose. When a certain well-known Parisian burgess, called Jean Maillart, noticed this, and understood the treason that had been undertaken from the sudden change of guards without cause, and from the recent marking of houses at which the people everywhere were marvelling, he at once mounted a very swift horse with a banner marked with the arms of the King of France, and riding vigorously through the city, cried out, "My joy! Saint Denis! For the king and the duke!" In this way he gathered together a very great multitude of the people. By a similar device, on the other side of the city, a certain knight called Pépin des Essarts acted in the same way. And when nothing else sounded in everyone’s mouth except honour and obedience to the king, and when the keys of the Saint-Antoine gate were again refused to the Provost himself when he asked for them, the guards and the assembled people, clearly perceiving the treason, rose against him and killed him, together with Philippe Giffart and Simon le Paumier. Then, going through the city in search of the other accomplices in the treason, near the Baudoyer gate they killed Jean de l’Isle, Gilles Marcel and the man called Jean Porret in the same rush. They carried their bodies to the house of Sainte-Catherine du Val des Écoliers, and ordered that they should lie there unburied until the arrival of the lord duke, the regent. On that very same day, among the Provost’s accomplices, a famous burgess called Charles Toussac and Josseran de Mâcon, treasurer of the King of Navarre, were taken and placed in the Châtelet. But in the end, to calm the tumult, they were brought out and beheaded in the Place de Grève, and left there until the duke, passing by, had seen them. Afterwards they were thrown into the river Seine. When the traitors had been killed, the city was filled with joy and gladness. Everywhere a cry of goodwill was raised for the duke, who, having been summoned on the following day, entered the city peacefully with his army and was honourably received. The King of Navarre perceived this with great astonishment. For, bearing the death of his dear friends with the greatest indignation, and longing by every means for the destruction of the city, he was making a fixed camp with his army around Saint-Laurent and considering how this might most easily be done, when he perceived the duke’s entry from the huge cloud of dust, like a great smoke, rising towards the Saint-Antoine gate. Then, seeing himself wholly deprived of his desire, dismayed and sad in spirit, he led his army back to Saint-Denis. From that time, for as long as he remained there, he surrounded himself with more careful guards, and immediately defied the duke.