The duke, upon his arrival, concluded the town would be his own as soon as the fire could be quenched, which was very great; for the whole gate was in a flame. If the duke could have been persuaded to have posted part of his army on the side towards Paris, no succours could have been thrown into it, and the town could not possibly have escaped. But it pleased God that he was afraid where there was no occasion; for it was only the passing of a small rivulet that made him scruple it then; and yet afterwards, when the garrison was considerably reinforced, he would fain have attempted it, though with the hazard of his whole army; and much ado there was to dissuade him from it. In the meantime the fire, of which I was speaking, continued burning all day long (which was the 28th of June, 1472). Towards night ten of the king’s standing lances, and no more, got into the town, as I have been told (for at that time I was in the Duke of Burgundy’s service); but they were not perceived, because on one side everybody was busy in taking up their quarters, and, on the other, there was nobody at all. By break of day the next morning the duke’s cannon came up, and some time after we saw a reinforcement of at least 200 men-at-arms enter the town together. I believe, had they not arrived as they did, the town would have capitulated. But the Duke of Burgundy was in such a violent passion, that he was for storming it immediately; and certainly, if he had taken it, he would have burned it to the ground, which would have been a great loss; and truly I am of opinion it was preserved by a miracle. From the time the recruits entered, for fifteen days together, or thereabouts, the duke’s cannon fired continually on the town; and the breaches in the town-wall were wide enough and fit for a general storm. However, the ditch being full of water on one side of the gate, which was burnt, a bridge was of necessity to be made; but on the other side of the gate we could make our approaches to the walls without any danger, unless it were from one casemate, which lay too low for our cannon to batter.