On April 21 he left Rethel, accompanied by the Marquis de Thémines, eldest son of the marshal, the Comte de Fiesque, Zamet, and more than fifty officers, who had also obtained leave, which appears to have been granted with amazing liberality in those days. But, instead of making straight for Paris, they decided to take a busman’s holiday by breaking their journey at Soissons, to see what progress the Comte d’Auvergne--now formally rehabilitated and therefore once more fit for the society of gentlemen--was making with the siege of that town, in which Mayenne commanded for the princes. On the 23rd they arrived in the Royal camp, where they were met by the Duc de Rohan, La Rochefoucauld, Saint-Géran and Saint-Luc, who conducted them to the general’s quarters. To their astonishment, they learned that, though Auvergne had been blockading Soissons for more than ten days, the trenches had not yet been opened; indeed, it appeared to be an open question whether he was to be regarded as the besieger or the besieged, since they found him engaged in giving instructions for the erection of formidable earthworks to defend his troops against the perpetual sorties of the garrison, who gave him no rest. Only the previous night, Mayenne, who possessed all the dashing courage of his House, had sallied out, bringing with him two field-pieces, attacked and practically destroyed the regiment of Bussy-Lameth,[119] made its colonel prisoner and carried off its colours, which were now mockingly displayed on the bastions of the town. However, notwithstanding this unfortunate incident, Auvergne seemed brimful of confidence, and assured them that within a fortnight he would be master of Soissons. The next day, after making the round of the camp, under the guidance of an officer, who pointed out to him the parts of the town which it was proposed to bombard, Bassompierre agreed with La Rochefoucauld, who, like himself, was a visitor to Auvergne’s army, to show their hosts what fine fellows they were, and to do what at this epoch, when rashness so often passed for valour, appears to have been regarded as a proof of the highest courage. “As we were of a different army,” says he, “and wished to let them see that we had no fear of musket-shots, we went out to draw the enemy’s fire upon us. They, however, allowed us to approach without firing, and, since we did not wish to return without seeing them shoot, we walked right up to the edge of the moat. Still they did not fire. When we noticed their silence, we broke ours and shouted insults at them, which they returned, but never fired a shot. At length, after talking together for rather a long time, just as if we belonged to the same side, we retired; and they let us depart without once firing at us.”