The municipality of Soissons wrote to the Assembly a letter full of fears. “The robbers had cut,” they said, “all the wheat for miles around, and were now marching on the city.” Soissons demanded help. The Assembly sent a thousand men, who searched on all sides, twelve miles a-day. They could not find the robbers. No matter, ten, twenty, a hundred people had seen them. In the midst of this disputed news, other transpired which was but too true. A certain lord having heard that De Launay had wished to blow up the Bastille, resolved, if it were in his power, to complete that which the Governor had been unable to do. He announced that, in honor of the taking of the Bastille, he would give a grand entertainment, to which all were invited—workmen, artisans, tradesmen, countrymen, soldiers, women, old men, and children. In this time of famine, when all lived on an ounce or two of bread per diem, a good dinner was a public service. Everybody—about 5,000 persons, that is to say—rushed to the fête. In the midst of it, an explosion was heard, and the surrounding plain was covered with dissevered limbs. The gentleman, whose name was Mennay de Quincy, escaped to Switzerland, and avoided punishment. Later on, he returned; and, as he was a member of Parliament, he was arraigned before it, and acquitted. But the breach between the nobles and the people was now opened. The poor Count de Haus, who was incapable of committing such a crime, was accused of abetting M. de Quincy. Some days afterwards, being at Neuville le Pont, he was insulted by the people, who proceeded to extremities; and he had but just time to spring on his horse, and gallop off to a place of safety. Fear had now seized upon us, as well as every one else. On the 18th of July, four days after the taking of the Bastille, the Prince Condé, the Duke d’Enghien, M. Vaudrevil, and M. de Broglie were announced. Their arrival astonished my uncle, as it was not the hunting season; the wood being very thick, the shooting was difficult. The Prince de Condé replied that he only wished to hunt a stag, the King having commanded him, in the possibility of a war, to examine into the condition of the defences of Verdun. The courier was ordered to procure horses from Clermont, and to command the two carriages punctually at five o’clock. So, taking this view of the matter, there was nothing extraordinary in it at all. The Princes, mindful of the sport they had had, were determined to enjoy another day of it, although it was not the proper season; but they could surely do as they liked. The Duke d’Enghien commanded me to accompany them. I said good-bye to my books for the day, took the gun which the Duke had given me, and followed them. The Prince was then eighteen years of age—not much older than I was. It was probably on account of the similarity of our ages, that I was favored by so much of his notice. I remarked that, though courteous as usual, he was profoundly sorrowful.