It was really delightful amid all this to look at the two English girls, who sat their horses so easily and so gracefully. Bending slightly with each curvet, they only yielded to the impulse of the animal as much as served to keep their own balance; the light but steady finger on the bridle, the air of quiet composure, uniting elegance with command. What a contrast to the distorted gesture, the desperate earnestness, and the fearful tenacity of their much-whiskered companions! And yet it was to please and fascinate these same pinchbeck sportsmen that these girls were then there. If they rode over everything that day—fence or rail, brook or bank—it was because the chasse to them was less au cerf than au mari.
Such was the case. The old colonel had left England because he preferred the Channel to the fleet; the glorious liberty which Englishmen are so proud of would have been violated in his person had he remained. His failing, like many others, was that he had lived ‘not wisely, but too well’; and, in short, however cold the climate, London would have proved too hot for him had he stayed another day in it.
What a deluge of such people float over the Continent, living well and what is called ‘most respectably’; dining at embassies and dancing at courts; holding their heads very high, too—most scrupulous about acquaintances, and exclusive in all their intimacies! They usually prefer foreign society to that of their countrymen, for obvious reasons. Few Frenchmen read the Gazette. I never heard of a German who knew anything about the list of outlaws. Of course they have no more to say to English preserves, and so they take out a license to shoot over the foreign manors; and though a marquis or a count are but ‘small deer,’ it’s the only game left, and they make the best of it.
At last the host appeared, attired in a scarlet frock, and wearing a badge at his button-hole something about the shape and colour of a new penny-piece. He was followed by above a dozen others, similarly habited, minus the badge; and then came about twenty more, dressed in green frocks, with red collars and cuffs—a species of smaller deities, who I learned were called ‘Aspirants,’ though to what they aspired, where it was, or when they hoped for it, nobody could inform me. Then there were piqueurs and grooms and whippers-in without number, all noisy and all boisterous—about twenty couple of fox-hounds giving tongue, and a due proportion of the scarlet folk blowing away at that melodious pipe, the cor de chasse.
With this goodly company I moved forward, ‘alone, but in a crowd’; for, unhappily, my want of tact as a sporting character the previous evening had damaged me seriously with the hunting youths, and Mademoiselle Laura showed no desire to accept the companionship her worthy father had selected for her. ‘No matter,’ thought I, ‘there’s a great deal to see here, and I can do without chatting in so stirring a scene as this.’
Her companion was the Comte d’Espagne, an admirable specimen of what the French call ‘Tigre’; for be it known that the country which once obtained a reputation little short of ludicrous for its excess of courtesy and the surplusage of its ceremony, has now, in the true spirit of reaction, adopted a degree of abruptness we should call rudeness, and a species of cold effrontery we might mistake for insolence. The disciples of this new school are significantly called ‘Young France,’ and are distinguished for length of hair and beard, a look of frowning solemnity and mock preoccupation, very well-fitting garments and yellow gloves. These gentlemen are sparing of speech, and more so of gesture. They give one to understand that some onerous deed of regeneration is expected at their hands, some revival of the old spirit of the nation; though in what way it is to originate in curled moustaches and lacquered boots is still a mystery to the many. But enough of them now; only of these was the Comte d’Espagne.
I had almost forgotten to speak of one part of our cortége, which should certainly not be omitted. This was a wooden edifice on wheels, drawn by a pair of horses at a brisk rate at the tail of the procession. At first it occurred to me that it might be an ambulant dog-kennel, to receive the hounds on their return. Then I suspected it to be a walking hospital for wounded sportsmen; and certainly I could not but approve of the idea, as I called to mind the position of any unlucky chasseur, in the event of a fall, with his fifteen feet of ‘metal main’ around him, and I only hoped that a plumber accompanied the expedition. My humanity, however, led me astray; the pagoda was destined for the accommodation of a stag, who always assisted at the chasse, whenever no other game could be started. This venerable beast, some five-and-twenty years in the service, was like a stock piece in the theatres, which, always ready, could be produced without a moment’s notice. Here was no rehearsal requisite if a prima donna was sulky or a tenor was drunk; if the fox wouldn’t show or the deer were shy, there was the stag, perfectly prepared for a pleasant canter of a few miles, and ready, if no one was intemperately precipitate, to give a very agreeable morning’s sport. His perfections, however, went further than this; for he was trained to cross the highroad at all convenient thoroughfares, occasionally taking the main streets of a village or the market-place of a bourg, swimming whenever the water was shallow enough to follow him on horseback, and giving up the ghost at the blast of a grand maître’s bugle with an accuracy as unerring as though he had performed at Franconi’s.
Unhappily for me, I was not fated to witness an exhibition of his powers; for scarcely had we emerged from the wood when the dogs were laid on, and soon after found a fox.
For some time the scene was an animated one, as every Fleming seemed to pin his faith on some favourite dog; and it was rather amusing to witness the eagerness with which each followed the movements of his adopted animal, cheering him on, and encouraging him to the top of his bent. At last the word ‘Away’ was given, and suddenly the dogs broke cover, and made across the plain in the direction of a great wood, or rather forest, above a mile off. The country, happily for most of us (I know it was so for me), was an open surface of gentle undulation, stubble and turnips the only impediments, and clay soft enough to make a fall easy.
The sight was so far exhilarating that red coats in a gallop have always a pleasant effect; besides which, the very concourse of riders looks well. However, even as unsportsmanlike an eye as mine could detect the flaws in jockeyship about me—the fierce rushings of the gentlemen who pushed through the deepest ground with a loose rein, flogging manfully the while; the pendulous motions of others between the mane and the haunches, with every stride of the beast.