During all this time [Raoul Le Gay, a French priest captured by the English at Harfleur and kept for ransom] kept demanding his liberty and asking for a safe-conduct, and on Sunday, Aug. 25, they took him before the king, though of this interview he unfortunately gives us no particulars, except that the king asked him if he had been taken in arms. In the morning of Tuesday, Aug. 27, he was passed on to Bishop Courtenay's tent which was close to the king's. Here he lay on a mattress in his clothes and when the bishop came in he wanted to rise, but Courtenay told him to lie still while he went into his retreat behind a curtain and changed his dress preparatory to paying a visit to the king. The next morning the bishop heard Mass in his tent about 9 o'clock, and then Le Gay was taken to the king's chapel where he heard the king's choir and was struck with the beauty of the service. Afterwards the bishop asked him if he knew one of his friends named Jean Fusoris who was a canon of Notre Dame in Paris, this being the French astronomer whose visit to Winchester a few weeks before has been already recorded. The bishop then promised that he would set him free if he would carry a message to the canon, holding out to him also the prospect of a good benefice and that he should be a rich man ever after.
At first Le Gay refused, never having been in Paris before, but fearing lest they might ship him across to an English prison he at last agreed to the terms, and on Thursday, Aug. 29, Bishop Courtenay took him into his retreat, where he handed to him a letter written on paper and tied with thread to which was attached a seal with the figure of a swan. He gave him also a small parchment schedule, a finger-length long, making mention of certain pumpkins, melons, almonds and other fruits which Fusoris was to get from the Prior of the Celestines in Paris and send back with his answer and for which he would receive payment. The bishop likewise charged him to tell Fusoris that the king of England had landed with 50,000 men, 4000 barrels of wheat, 4000 casks of wine and 12 large guns and sufficient material for a 6 months' siege of Harfleur, and to ask whether the king of France was agate and whether he had decided to oppose him, and if so whether Mons. de Guienne (i.e. the Dauphin) and Mons. de Bourgogne would be with him and how many other lords and with how many men. One of Courtenay's chaplains also, whose name he gives as William but who appears in the letter as Jenkin, commissioned him to deliver a letter to a friend of his in Paris called Denisot le Breton who was in the service of the Princess Catherine. The text of both these curious letters is still preserved. In the former, the bishop writing in Latin with his own hand on Aug. 29, 1415, addresses Fusoris as "my dearest friend and comrade," refers to their previous acquaintance (inchoata noticia), how they had frequently talked together face to face and how he had lately heard of him from his clerk T. B. He urged him to reply in writing within the next 8 or 10 days, but to be careful in his answer not to mention either of their names, as the matter was an entire secret from everybody except the king "who is very close, as you know." "Jenkin," the chaplain, writing in French, told his friend in Paris that the king had come to France to win his right and for the love of Madame Katherine," and asked if she was married or engaged, ending up with: "Commend me to all my ladies, especially to the one who gave me an apple." No one ever found out who was meant by this last pretty allusion, for when the judicial inquiry was subsequently held, Le Breton who was lame had left the Princess' service and nobody knew where he was; neither could anything be made of the melons, and the Prior of the Celestines could only suggest that it was a mistake as no such things grew in his garden, though perhaps the bishop might have seen some in their house at Mantes. With his letter Courtenay handed to Le Gay a silk-covered leathern purse containing 20 half-nobles, into which he placed the letters and the schedule, fastening it round his neck and underneath his shirt, and so he passed through the English lines and started westward as if on the road to Paris.