On reaching the shore, the troops encamped and lighted a great number of fires to dry their clothes. At daybreak they were formed in order of battle, and, after a march of about two leagues, came in sight of the enemy. Soubise and his cavalry, to the number of five or six hundred, fled at once in the direction of La Rochelle, without striking a blow. Part of the infantry had already embarked in the launches that had arrived to take them off; the rest threw down their arms and demanded quarter. But this was refused to the majority of them, and more than 1,500 were shot or cut down in cold blood; while as many more were taken prisoners and sent to the galleys. The rest fled across the marshes, in which some of them were drowned, while many others were slain by the troops of La Rochefoucauld, governor of Poitou, or by the peasants, furious at the devastation which the Huguenots had committed. Only some four hundred succeeded in effecting their escape and making their way to La Rochelle. Leaving a force under the Comte de Soissons to watch La Rochelle on the land side, while Guise was directed to blockade it by sea, Louis XIII marched southwards, with the intention of raising the blockade of the Gironde by the reduction of Royan. During the siege, the King gave further proofs of that courage and presence of mind which Bassompierre had admired before the attack on the Île de Rié. “That same evening I went to the King in his quarters, and he told me that he was coming to see our trench at five o’clock the next morning ... and desired me to await him at the commencement of it. He came, accompanied by M. d’Épernon and M. de Schomberg. It was the first time he had ever been in the trenches, and he did me the honour to say to me: ‘Bassompierre, I am a novice here; tell me what I must do, so that I may not make mistakes.’ In this I found little difficulty, for he was more prodigal of his safety than any of us would have been, and mounted three or four times on to the banquette of the trench, where he was exposed to the fire of the enemy, to reconnoitre. And he stayed there so long that we trembled at the danger he was incurring, which he braved with more coolness and intrepidity than an old captain would have shown, and gave orders for the work of the following night as though he had been an engineer. While he was returning, I saw him do what pleased me extremely. After we had remounted our horses, at a certain passage which the enemy knew, they fired a cannon-shot, which passed two feet above the head of the King, who was talking to M. d’Épernon. I was riding in front of him, and turned round, fearing that the shot might have struck him. ‘_Mon Dieu_, Sire,’ I exclaimed, ‘that ball was near killing you!’ ‘No, not me,’ said he, ‘but M. d’Épernon.’ He neither started nor lowered his head, as so many others would