Every now and then, on hearing that a herd of wild boars had been seen in the forest, or that the snowstorm had driven out the wolves, a courier would arrive from Paris, and announce “The gentlemen of the Court.”
Then it was that the fun took place.
If it were summer, a tent was pitched, in which the gentlemen took their meals.
If it were winter, they stopped at St. Menehould, and put up at the “Hotel de Metz,” making a rendezvous with the keepers at daybreak at a likely spot for wild boars or wolves. When there, the dogs were unleashed, and the sport commenced.
When they went, away, they would leave twenty or twenty-five louis to be divided among the keepers.
In general, these nobles of the Court were exceedingly polite towards the underlings. Twice the Prince de Condé and his son, the Duke D’Enghien came.
On such occasions, being, as it were, high holiday, I would follow the sportsmen. Once when the Duke D’Enghien lost his way, I put him right, and he offered me a louis. I refused it. (I was only nine years old.)
He looked at me with astonishment, and asked my name.
“Réné Besson. I am the nephew of Father Descharmes,” I replied.
“Good, my boy,” said he; “I won’t forget thee!”