PART III. WE breakfasted earlier on Thursday on account of the hunting. When I came into the drawing-room, I found Monsieur René reading the newspaper in the sun. "You are going with Olympe to the meet this morning, are you not?" he said. I told him that I was. "No doubt, as a true Englishwoman, you will have a contempt for our sport, and think fox-hunting infinitely superior; but I am sure that the artistic feeling of which you are so full, will be delighted with the forest. At all events we can lay claim to one superiority in the fact of our hunting being compatible with lovely scenery. Do you ever hunt in England, Miss Hope? " I told him that in the first place my means did not allow of it, and that in the second I was afraid my nerves would not either. "I often wish I were less cowardly," said I. "Ah, do not wish you were other than you are! If women could only be made to comprehend their true position "It will be hard," answered I, laughing, if between you and Monsieur Berthier we do not get to understand it at last." "Do not misjudge me," said he. "No one can think more highly of women than I do. In tact, in quickness of perception, in delicacy of feeling, in the unerring justice with which you instinctively arrive at conelusions which we only reach through circuitous paths of cumbrous logic, you stand alone. Steadfastness, patience, tenderness, pity, these are the jewels of your crown that crown which the strong-minded woman despises in her ambitious endeavour to attain to the male virtues that in her become simply detestable. Yesterday I was 30 struck with the contrast between your self and Miss Hamilton when we were speaking of Rénan.” "Yes," he answered. "One may admire her, but what one loves is a tender, trembling little woman, doubting of herself, and looking up to man as to her natural guide and protector. Don't you see not only how well this attitude becomes you, but also how admirably it works? When you are womanly you make us manly: these touching and gentle appeals stir all the depths of our buried tenderness, and bring it to the surface. A woman who has no need of this, but can do battle for her self, is generally left to do it. You will see that Miss Hamilton's conquests will not be among men, but among women. Olympe, Jeanne, yourself, already are all more or less at her feet, and this by a natural law. It is simply the masculine element in her, which you are all unconsciously adoring. Now to me, by the same law, she is in consequence of it repellant and unattractive." But all men do not feel as you do," said I. "Monsieur Dessaix is devoted to her, and he is a man." "Is he?" said Monsieur de Saldes. "Sometimes I feel quite bewildered between them, and in doubt whether to call her Monsieur Hamilton, or him Mademoiselle Dessaix." We breakfasted in a great hurry, for Lady Blankeney and Maria were going off by train to Paris. The former took leave of every one but Miss Hamilton and myself with effusion. There was a slight degree of nervous coldness in the manner in which she bade Ursula good-by and said they should meet shortly in Paris, and a charming mixture of condescension and incivility in her farewell to me. I was delighted when they drove off: a little of the mother went a long way, and as for Maria, I do not think I ever beheld any human being so wrapped up in, encompassed by, and utterly saturated with self: the positiveness of the pre-occupation became monstrous when contrasted with the negativeness of her nature in every other respect; even the natural laws seemed in her mind to exist as but with reference to herself, and she never spoke of the weather as other people But, thank heaven, did not," he inter- do, remarking in a general way, It rupted. Nothing could be a better exam- is warm- - it is windy-it is rainy," as ple of what I mean. The clear, unerring the case might be, but always said mind was there, the quick perception, the " I shall be hot - I shall be cold fine moral sense which instinctively detects I shall be wet," in a manner entirely her a want of truth in the heart of things-all own. that was absent was the male energy of Miss Hamilton; an absence in which, to me, lay the very secret of the charm." "Oh" answered I, "I liked what she said so much; it was exactly what I was longing to say." 66 She is so absolutely truthful and fear Jess," said T. 66 Monsieur Berthier preferred walking in the forest to coming in the carriage with us, and Monsieur Dessaix had music to write, and evidently thought that a day in the open air might be the death of him: so the driving party consisted solely of Madame Olympe and myself. At a little after eleven she came in, looking like a magnificent wall-flower, with a dark brown tweed dress shot with crimson, a deep orange-coloured silk handkerchief tied loosely round her throat, and a golden pheasant's wings in her hat. She had, as usual, her hands filled with flowers, but this time they were little nosegays of Parma violets, which she distributed to Ursula, Jeanne, Monsieur de Saldes, and Monsieur Charles, who were all going to ride, and who stuck them into the button-holes of their coats and habits. The open carriage came to the door at half past eleven. Ursula, at the last moment, had some slight dispute with Monsieur de Saldes, and in her habit, just as she was, she jumped into the carriage with Madame Olympe and myself. It was a splendid autumn morning. The earth sparkled in every direction like precious stones, the dew lay like diamonds in the grass, and the air was full of floating gossamers (the Virgin's threads, as they are called in France), as we bowled down the hill to the river. Over the great bridge we went, and straight at once into the forest. It is all divided into long alleys, which lead into large green open places, or carrefours, from which six or seven different roads diverge, and in the centre of which there is an enormous sign-post giving the direction of each. I should have thought it impossible to find one's way without these, one path seemed so exactly to resemble another; but Madame Olympe told me that the gentlemen were often out after nightfall, and managed to pilot themselves successfully even when it was far too dark to read what was written on the posts. It was an enchanting drive to the place of rendezvous. Generally the wood lay packed away on each side of the open roads. The trees were not large, as in our forests, but slender young slips, growing all close together, through which driving would have been impossible, and walking, for the most part difficult and unpleasurable; but one looked into depths of delicate leaves, until the whole atmosphere seemed to be a sort of pale transparent glowworm-green, as one rolled along with gentle motion and noiseless wheels over the yielding sand. Sometimes we drove for a long way under large trees through the very heart of the forest. In one place all the boles of the trees were covered with lichen; they looked like metal shafts of some strange gnome palace. Here we went along with a soft crushing sound over precious emerald mosses and the red gold of fallen beech-leaves; the whole air filled with delicious autumn savours, musky gusts of a wild woodland odour, and the bitter fragrance of bruised leaves. At last we got to the carrefour, or place of the rendezvous, and drew up before the door of a little country inn, where we saw the men and dogs who had been seeking out the track of the wild boar, and who had just arrived. Two hours before daybreak these four men, with four dogs, go out with lanterns to seek the track; this is technically called the aller au bois. These hounds (limiers) are mute, and never follow the track of roebuck, rabbit, or hare. The forest is divided among them into four separate allotments, and each man with his dog explores the portion appointed for him, taking care never to interfere with the beat of the others. The next thing done is to prendre les grands devants. This consists in going round and round each division in ever-narrowing cir cles, until they come upon the track, or brisée, which takes its name from the custom of breaking a branch as soon as the trace is found which branch they lay upon the ground with the point turned in the direction of the track. They then come back with their limiers, after a walk of about six hours, to the rendezvous (which generally takes place at twelve o'clock, or thereabouts), and dress themselves properly in the livery of the hunt. By degrees, people on foot, and people on horseback, and people in open carriages began to assemble. The ladies, who all appeared to be more or less acquainted, got out of their various vehicles to speak to each other; and hairy men dismounted, or reined up, and bowed and talked to those ladies who remained in their carriages. There was one coachful of cousins from the village of Sept-Moulins, about four miles away from Marny; another with some smart ugly women, whom nobody knew, from the neighbouring town; one fat old lady was drawn by a couple of superb Percheron horses, small, robust, well-built animals of the old French post-horse breed, snow-white, with thick tails sweeping the ground, and powerful manes, that flew out to the wind like great sheets of silver in the sun they were fiery, restive creatures, and looked splendid as they kept neighing and pawing the ground with impatience whenever they had to stand still for a single instant. Last of all arrived a sort of charming open chará-vanc, with pretty Madame Prévost, her kind-looking old husband, and a most absurd old friend, with a large red nose and as eurly grey wig, who always lives with them, and whose name, I was told, was Hégésippe Gigonnet. Their carriage is a very popular one: it is laden with all sorts of good eatables, which are liberally distributed to the hungry, and also with brandy, arnica, plaster, and other useful remedies, in case of any simple accident. The ladies' dress was an extravagant imitation of the out-of-door costume of our own English women the looped-up gown and coloured petticoat beneath; but in spite of every variety of rainbow tint which their gaudy skirts displayed, they presented a dowdy appearance, very different from the smart neat look which a well-appointed English woman has when she is properly got up for walking. They wore ugly hats of fanciful shapes, but one felt at a glance that they were born to put nothing but Parisian bonnets of the latest fashion upon their heads, and to do no real out-of-door work. Presently Monsieur Charles, Monsieur de Saldes, and Jeanne came up, and and then Monsieur Charles was informed of the different tracks that had been found by the limiers. The servants of the hunt are called by picturesque names that all bear some reference to the sport. The huntsman or piqueur (pronounced piqueux) was called Latrace his real name was Martin; there were five valets-de-chien, or whippers-in, on horseback, whose hunting names were La Rosée, La Feuille, Fanfare, La Brisée, La Broussaille; and there was one valet-de-chien on foot, who was called Tempete. La Broussalle and Tempete brought with them about sixty hounds to the meet: some of these dogs were French, but the greater proportion of them were foxhounds got over from England. I jumped out of the carriage and went with Monsieur de Saldes to talk to them. They looked so natural and so sweet, with their heavy jaws and gentle eyes, waving their tails and making good-natured grumbling expostulations with fine bass voices. Monsieur Charles having decided upon the track, about twenty out of the sixty were despatched in separate relays to different parts of the forest where the boar was supposed to be likely to pass. These hounds were older and rather slower than the others, and were called the old pack (la vieille meute). The forty remaining hounds were kept for following the track. Out of these, eight of the very best were selected to make the attack; the rest were divided into relays of about four couple, which were held in leashes by the valets-de-chien. We now all got back into our carriages, and accompanied by a field of about fifty or sixty people began to move towards the spot where the beast was supposed to be. When we arrived there, the eight chiens d'attaque were put into the cover, followed by the buntsman on foot. We coasted along on the outside, guided by the rushing of the animals through the leaves, and the huntsman's cries of Hou! - hou! Après! La voie! (the right road). Volcelet! (here it is). Suddenly he caught sight of the boar and struck up the fanfare of the sanglier upon his horn, the dogs gave tongue, the gentleman dashed off, blowing the sanglier with all their might, the valets-de-chien tore along, almost dragged off their horses by the pulling of the hounds in leash, and we set off at a hand-gallop followed by all the other carriages. It was a charming and a very varied spectacle. There was none of the uniformity of get-up that characterizes an English field: every one had turned out in different costume; most of the gentlemen of the neighbourhood, who were personal friends of Monsieur Charles, wore his white uniform with the maroon facings; then there were men in all sorts of cut-away and fly-away coats some in elaborate suits of velveteen knickerbockers; a party of cuirassiers quartered in the neighbouring town appeared in regimentals, and bumped along after the boar in true haute-école style. Suddenly, at the end of one of the long alleys, we saw the boar leap across the road. It was a ragot or middle-sized one, the most dangerous sort of all. Immediately all the horns struck up the fanfare of the ragot, the tearing, dragging hounds were loosed at last from the leashes, and away we all pelted in full chase, the horns blowing the volcelet and the bien-aller with might and main. It was not English sport. I do not know if it was good sport; of this I was no judge, but the excitement of that morning rush through the great glades of the sunlit forest, with the music and the animation of the whole scene, was a thing never to be forgotten. Ursula's eyes were staring wide open for the first time in her life, and Madame Olympe was screaming at the top of her voice. At last they got before us and out of sight, we lost the track, and stopped for about a quarter of an hour, listening in vain for the fanfare to guide us. We then drove wildly about the forest in every direction, sometimes faintly catching, sometimes losing again the sound of the horns in the distance. Once the coachman called out, and we all stood up in the carriage as a com came dropping in. Jeanne came up and "Bless me!" cried Ursula, "what can have become of mine? I have lost them! I suppose they must have tumbled down as I was getting in or out of the carriage." She then left her chair, and went away in a very marked manner as Monsieur de Saldes brought me my tea and sat down by me to talk over the impression that French hunting had made upon me. He very goodnaturedly told me a great deal more about Boars of all ages are hunted. There are the marcassins or babies, the bêtes de compagnie and bêtes rousses from six to eighteen months old - the ragotin, which is about eighteen months old- -the ragot of two years old - the boar in his third year pany of stags, startled by the noise, poor beast emerged at the other end of the island, and still followed by his yelling persecutors, in despair took to the water a second time. Shot after shot was fired at him in vain, as he swam vigorously for the mainland. At last Latrace jumped into the stream as he neared the shore, and stabbed him with his hunting-knife au défaut de l'épaule, in the one vulnerable place the joint just behind the shoulder while the horns struck up the last part of the halali, which is never played until the boar is killed. And then we all turned homeward, and under that gentle sky I felt consciencestricken, and rather as if I had been assisting at a murder. It was dark and coldish by the time we got back to the house, and very cheering and pleasant was that large room, bright with candle and fire light, and not less so the cup of tea that dear Madame Olympe made for us. Presently Jeanne, Monsieur Charles, and Monsieur de Saldes the boar in his fourth year. Then there is the huge solitaire, who lives alone, and for whom they play the royale fanfare, the solitaire mire (an old fellow with his tusks turned down, so that he cannot toss the dogs), and the laie, or female, for whom the fanfare of the meuniere is played. The first half of the halali is played when the boar is at bay; the second, when he is killed, and he is never killed until he has been at bay. There is also the halali tenante - when the boar at bay tosses some of the hounds and then begins running again. If the animal is very fierce, in order to save the hounds the gentlemen will sometimes dismount and prick him with their hunting-knives to cause a diversion. The boar then leaves the dogs and rushes at the men, and there is a general sauve qui peut - up trees or anywhere. Sometimes the men as well as the dogs get wounded. Last season Latrace had his leg ripped up by the boar's tusks, and was badly hurt. The cries of vocelet or volcelet, and vlaut — vlaut! which are continually heard during the hunt, are corruptions of voilà ce l'est and le viola la haut. The morning after the hunt the missing hounds are tracked out, and found wounded or dead. The men take other dogs with them, whose ears they pull to make them cry, and so attract their wounded and lost companions. The limiers, who find the first trace of the boar, are put into a cart and driven home from the meet by Madame Moreau an old woman about the château who does every sort of odd job sometimes goes to fetch letters and sometimes goes to fetch bread. We met her in the forest going back to Marny, with four or five of the great circular loaves of common household bread which the servants eat slung like so many necklaces round her mahogany-coloured old throat. When Ursula and I went up to dress for dinner we took no light with us, as we had fire and candles in our own room. At the head of the stair was Monsieur Berthier's room, and just beyond it was a swing-door, which one had to pass in order to get to Monsieur Dessaix's room and ours. On opening this we nearly knocked down Monsieur Jacques, who was standing hidden behind it, and who had not heard us approach. "Oh! Jacques, have I hurt you?" exclaimed Ursula with concern, for it was she who had pushed the door. "But what are you doing there in the dark just behind the door?" "It is abominable," he said in a whisper. "They do not love me here. I have had a miserable day- I have passed it (all of it!) behind this door. Have you seen his room?" he continued, indicating Monsieur Berthier's. "Have you seen how large it is? twice as large as mine! After you were gone this morning, he and I came upstairs to write. After a little while I heard him go down, and I thought I would peep into his room. I had only time just to see how nice and big it was for crac! he was up again in a minute. I suppose he had only gone to put his letter in the box. So I jumped back and hid behind the door, and watched till he went down again, and then I took another peep. It is much, much nicer than mine! I have watched him go down three times, and each time I have seen some fresh nice thing that he has." "What dreadful nonsense, Jacques," said Ursula. - "He has two jugs a large one and a little one. I have only one small one." "For shame!" she said indignantly. "How could you go into another person's room in that way?" "And a tea-service, and a gilt Cupid on the top of his looking-glass." She took him by the shoulder, and putting him into his own room, shut the door angrily upon his complaints. The evening was spent chiefly in making out the programme for the Sunday's music. Ursula found that she could stick an "O Salutaris" upon the beginning of Stradella's song, which carried her through the first eight bars, after which she boldly merged into " ovunque il guardo io giro, cerco te, guardo te, sospiro," &c. I was sorry that she had determined to do it, but she seemed to look at the matter altogether from an artistic point of view, and as it was a Roman Catholic church, not to see any reason against it. And Madame Olympe's mind was entirely divided between her ecstasy at the notion of hearing Ursula's great voice and grand style in the ample space of a church- - where they would have room to spread themselves and her pleasure in the gratification which she knew it would give to the poor Curé to have such fine music for the occasion of his confirmation. Monsieur Jacques had been pacified by my representation that his coming had been altogether unexpected, and that Monsieur Berthier and Monsieur Kiowski were both in possession before his arrival; and he entered with zeal into the details of the programme, and was of the greatest service in selecting and arranging the progression of the pieces. Monsieur Berthier, Monsieur de Saldes and I sat and talked together, and I made the former especially happy by translating for his benefit Ford's speech in the Merry Wives of Windsor - -"Then she plots, then she ruminates, then she devises: and what they think in their hearts they may effect, they will break their hearts but they will effect." He was enchanted with this. "What a genius!" he cried. "How he knows the heart of woman! How he must have known the English woman!" And nothing would serve but he must learn the sentiment by rote in the original tongue : after which he passed the whole evening saying at intervals, "Zen zey ruminaate, Zen zey devaise," and smiling contentedly to himself. The next day he left us for Paris, to the regret of every one, for he was so gentle and amiable that it was quite impossible not to like him. "And such a true gentleman," said Madame Olympe; "so unlike Lady Blankeney, with her eternal Countess and Marquis.' She thinks it quite Faubourg St. Germain (to use her own favourite expression), whereas it is precisely Faubourg St. Germain that never does it. Prince or Princesse are the only titles ever given in addressing peopleeverything under that rank is simply spoken to as Monsieur or Madame de Soand-So." |