My brother had obtained a sacrifice of me, but it was beyond his power to make me go through with it. He vainly entreated me to stay at Versailles in order to assist at the Queen's cards at night:
"You will be presented to the Queen," he said, "and the King will speak to you."
He could have given me no stronger reason for taking to flight. I hastened to go and hide my glory in my hotel, happy to escape from Court, but seeing still before me the terrible day of the coaches, of the 19th of February 1787.
Hunt with the King.
The Duc de Coigny[209] sent to inform me that I was to hunt with the King in the forest of Saint-Germain. I set out in the early morning towards my punishment, in the uniform of a débutant, a grey coat, red waistcoat and breeches, lace tops, Hessian boots, a hunting-knife in my belt, a small, gold-laced French hat. There were four of us débutants at the Palace of Versailles, myself, the two Messieurs de Saint-Marsault, and the Comte d'Hautefeuille[210]. The Duc de Coigny gave us our instructions: he warned us not to interrupt the hunt, as the King flew into a passion if any one passed between him and the quarry. The Duc de Coigny bore a name fatal to the Queen[211]. The meet was at Val, in the forest of Saint-Germain, a domain leased by the Crown from the Maréchal de Beauvau[212]. The custom was for the horses of the first hunt in which the newly-presented men took part to be supplied from the royal stables[213].
The drums beat the salute: a voice gave the order to present arms. They cried, "The King!" The King left the house and entered his coach: we rode in the coaches following. It was a long cry from this hunting expedition with the King of France to my hunting expeditions on the moors of Brittany; and further still to my hunting expeditions with the savages of America: my life was to be filled with these contrasts.
We reached the rallying-point, where a number of saddle-horses, held in hand under the trees, showed signs of impatience. The coaches drawn up in the forest with the keepers; the groups of men and women; the packs held back with difficulty by the huntsmen; the baying of the hounds, the neighing of the horses, the sound of the horns composed a very animated scene. The hunting-parties of our kings recalled both the old and the new customs of the monarchy, the rude pastimes of Clodion, Chilperic, and Dagobert and the gallantries of François I., Henry IV., and Louis XIV.
I was too full of my reading not to behold on every hand Comtesses de Chateaubriand[214], Duchesses d'Étampes[215], Gabrielles d'Estrées, La Vallières, and Montespans. My imagination seized upon the historic aspect of this hunting-party, and I felt at my ease: besides, I was in a forest, and therefore at home.
On alighting from the coaches, I handed my ticket to the huntsmen. A mare called L'Heureuse had been provided for me, a fast animal, but hard-mouthed, skittish, and full of tricks; a tolerable likeness of my fortune, which has constantly set back its ears. The King mounted and rode off; the members of the hunt followed, taking different roads. I stayed behind, struggling with L'Heureuse, who refused to let her new master get astride of her; I ended, however, in leaping upon her back: the hunt was already far ahead.