s reason to suppose, were
accomplices in the attack upon De Clisson, but they were not at all sorry
for it. It was to them an incident in the strife begun between
themselves, princes of the blood royal, and those former councillors of
Charles V., and now, again, of Charles VI., whom, with the impertinence
of great lords, they were wont to call the marinosettes. They left
nothing undone to avert the king's anger and to preserve the Duke of
Brittany from the war which was threatening him.

Charles VI.'s excitement was very strong, and endured forever. He
pressed forward eagerly his preparations for war, though attempts were
made to appease him. He was recommended to take care of himself; for he
had been ill, and could scarcely mount his horse; and the Duke of
Burgundy remonstrated with him several times on the fatigue he was
incurring. "I find it better for me," he answered, "to be on horseback,
or working at my council, than to keep resting. Whoso wishes to persuade
me otherwise is not of my friends, and is displeasing to me." A letter
from the Queen of Arragon gave some ground for supposing that Peter de
Craon had taken refuge in Spain; and the Duke of Burgundy took advantage
of it to dissuade the king from his prompt departure for the war in
Brittany. "At the very least," he said, "it was right to send to Arragon
to know the truth of the matter, and to thank the queen for her
courtesy." "We are quite willing, uncle," answered Charles: "you need
not be vexed; but for my own part I hold that this traitor of a Peter de
Craon is in no other prison and no other Barcelona than there is in being
quite comfortable at the Duke of Brittany's." There was no way of
deterring him from his purpose. He had got together his uncles and his
troops at Le Mans; and, after passing three weeks there, he gave the word
to march for Brittany. The tragic incident which at that time occurred
has nowhere been more faithfully or better narrated than in M. de
Barante's History of the Dukes of Burgundy. "It was," says he, "the
beginning of August, 1392, during the hottest days of the year. The sun
was blazing, especially in those sandy districts. The king was on
horseback, clad in a short and tight dress called a jacket. His was of
black velvet, and very oppressive. On his head he wore a cap of scarlet
velvet, ornamented with a chaplet of large pearls, which the queen had
given him at his departure. Behind him were two pages on hors