On his way a man cried out, “By God, sir, if I had been listened to, you would never have entered in here; but, after all, you will get but little by it.”  The Count of Tancarville, who was in the prince’s train, drew his sword, and “spurred his horse upon this rascal;” but the dauphin restrained him, and contented himself with saying smilingly to the man, “You will not be listened to, fair sir.”  Charles had the spirit of coolness and discretion; and “he thought,” says his contemporary, Christine de Pisan, “that if this fellow had been slain, the city which had been so rebellious might probably have been excited thereby.”  Charles, on being resettled in Paris, showed neither clemency nor cruelty.  He let the reaction against Stephen Marcel run its course, and turned it to account without further exciting it or prolonging it beyond measure.  The property of some of the condemned was confiscated; some attempts at a conspiracy for the purpose of avenging the provost of trades-men were repressed with severity, and John Maillart and his family were loaded with gifts and favors.  On becoming king, Charles determined himself to hold his son at the baptismal font; but Robert Lecocq, Bishop of Laon, the most intimate of Marcel’s accomplices, returned quietly to his diocese; two of Marcel’s brothers, William and John, owing their protection, it is said, to certain youthful reminiscences on the prince’s part, were exempted from all prosecution; Marcels widow even recovered a portion of his property; and as early as the 10th of August, 1358, Charles published an amnesty, from which he excepted only “those who had been in the secret council of the provost of tradesmen in respect of the great treason;” and on the same day another amnesty quashed all proceedings for deeds done during the Jacquery, “whether by nobles or ignobles.”  Charles knew that in acts of rigor or of grace impartiality conduces to the strength and the reputation of authority.

The death of Stephen Marcel and the ruin of his party were fatal to the plots and ambitious hopes of the King of Navarre.  At the first moment he hastened to renew his alliance with the King of England, and to recommence war in Normandy, Picardy, and Champagne against the regent of France.  But several of his local expeditions were unsuccessful; the temperate and patient policy of the regent rallied round him the populations aweary of war and anarchy; negotiations were opened between the two princes; and their agents were laboriously discussing conditions of peace when Charles of Navarre suddenly interfered in person, saying, “I would fain talk over matters with the lord duke regent, my brother.”  We know that his wife was Joan of France, the dauphin’s sister.  “Hereat there was great joy,” says the chronicler, “amongst their councillors.  The two princes met, and the King of Navarre with modesty and gentleness addressed the regent in these terms:  ’My lord duke and brother, know that I do hold you to be my proper and especial lord; though I have