THE ROYAL HUNT IN FRANCE
Just how great a part the royal hunt played in the open-air life of the
French court all who know their French history and have any familiarity
with the great forests of France well recognize.
The echo of French country architecture as evinced in the "_maisons de
plaisance_" and "_rendezvous de chasse_" scattered up and down the
France of monarchial times lives until to-day, scarcely fainter than
when the note was originally sounded. Often these establishments were
something more than a mere hunting-lodge, or shooting-box, indeed they
generally aspired to the proportions of what may readily be accepted as
a country-house. They established a specious type of architecture which
in many cases grew, in later years, into a chateau or palace of
manifestly magnificent appointments.
At the great hunting exposition recently held at Vienna the _clou_ of
the display was a French royal hunting-lodge in the style of Louis XVI,
hung with veritable Gobelin tapestries, loaned by the French government
and picturing "The Hunt in France." It was called by the critics a
unique painting in a beautiful frame.
In the days of Francis I and his sons, the royal hunt was given a great
impetus by Catherine de Medici, wife of Henri II.
Francis, in company with his sons, had gone to Marseilles to meet the
Medici bride, who was on her way to make her home at the Paris Louvre,
and when he found her possessed of so lively manners and such great
intelligence he became so charmed with her that, it is said, he danced
with her all of the first evening. What pleased the monarch even more,
and perhaps not less his sons, was that she shot with an arquebuse like
a sharpshooter, and could ride to hounds like a natural-born Amazon. She
was more than a rival, as it afterwards proved, of that arch-huntress,
Diane de Poitiers.
History recounts in detail that last royal hunt of Francis I at
Rambouillet, when he was lying near to death, the guest of his old
friend, d'Angennes.
The old manor, half hunting-lodge, half fortress, and very nearly royal
in all its appointments, proved a comfortable enough rest-house, and on
the day after his arrival, in March, 1547, the monarch commanded the
preparations for a royal hunt to commence at daybreak in the
neighbouring forest.
The equipage started forth in full ceremonial on the quest of stag and
boar. The bugles blew and a sort of stimulated courage once more entered
the king's breast, courage born of the excitement around him, the baying
of the hounds and the tramping and neighing of impatient horses. He had
forced himself from his bed and on horseback and started off with the
rest, defying the better counsel of his retainers.
His strength proved to be born of a fictitious enthusiasm, and, speedily
losing interest, he was brought back to the manor where he had his
apartments, and put speechless and half dead to bed, actually dying the
next day from this last over-exertion, scarce half a century of the span
of his life accomplished.
Henri de Navarre also was a true lover of the open. Born in a mountain
town in the Pyrenees he would rather camp on a bed of pine needles in
the forest than lie on a tuft of down. He preferred his beloved Bayonne
ham, spiced with garlic, to a sumptuous dinner in _Jarnet_ house, a
famous Paris tavern of the day; and had rather quench his thirst with a
quaff of the wine of Jurancon than the finest _cru_ in Paris cellars.
He hated the parade of courts, was dirty, unkempt and careless, a
genuine son of the soil, heedless of fate, and an excellent huntsman.
Up to the seventeenth century the ladies of the French court showed a
keener interest for falconry than for the hunt by horse and hounds.
The heroines of the Fronde, and the generation which followed, seemed to
lose interest in this form of sport, and gave their favour to packs of
hounds, and followed with equal interest the hunt for deer, wolves,
boars, foxes and hares as they were tracked through forests and over
arid wastes.
The old hunting horn, the winding horn of romance, still exists at the
hunts of France, a relic of the days of Louis XIV. It sounds the
conventional comings and goings of the huntsmen in the same classic
phraseology as of old--the _lancer_, the _bien allee_, the _vue_, the
_changement de foret_, the _accompagne_, the _bat l'eau_, the _hallali
par terre_, and the _curee_.
The "_Curee aux Flambeaux_" was one of the most picturesque ceremonies
connected with the royal hunt in France. It began in the gallant days,
and lived even until the time of the Second Empire.
[Illustration: _A "Curee aux Flambeaux"_]
The _curee_, that is the giving up to the hounds the remains of an
animal slain in chase, does not always take place at night, but when
it does the torches play the part of impressive and picturesque
accessories. When a _curee_ takes place at the spot where the animal is
actually killed the French sporting term for the ceremony is "_force et
abattu_." This, however, is usually preceded by another called "_le
pied_," which consists in cutting off one of the feet of the dead animal
and offering it to the person in whose honor the hunt was held.
When the _curee_ takes place by torchlight the body of the animal is
carried beneath the windows of the chateau, a circle is formed by the
"_piqueurs_," or head hunters, and all who have participated in the
pursuit; and, to the sound of a trumpet, loaned by the sportsmen, one of
the _valets de venerie_ cuts up the stag. The _meutes_, that is to say,
the hounds which are let slip last of all, and which terminates the
chase--are then brought by the _valet des chiens_, who has great
difficulty in keeping them from breaking loose. When the entrails have
been cut away the valet sits astride the animal, holding up the _nappe_,
or head and neck, shaking it at the already furious hounds. It is the
care of the valet during this interval to conceal the pieces of flesh
which are still under the body. The hounds are then loosened, but are
kept within bounds by the whips of the _piqueurs_ and the _valet des
chiens_. When the dogs are sufficiently exasperated the brutes are
allowed to rush upon the remains of their victim; only, however, to be
driven back again by whipping. When their docility has thus been proven
the definite signal, "_lachez tout_," is given, and the hounds rush
towards the stag.
The _curee_ then presents a savage spectacle: the air is filled with
growling, barking and yelling, while the ground is covered with
scrambling dogs, their mouths reeking with blood.
The feminine costume for the hunt in the time of Louis XIII was of
broadcloth or velvet, with a great feather-ornamented "picture" hat.
Only now and again a lady on horseback after 1650 dared borrow doublet
and jacket, and mount astride.
The ladies followed the hunt of Louis XIV on horseback, seldom, if ever,
in the older manner of sitting behind their cavalier on the same steed.
From the time of Catherine de Medici, indeed, the Italian side-saddle
had become the fashion for women.
Under Louis XV the ladies sought a little more comfort, and followed the
equipage sitting in a sort of hamper-like, diminutive basket, hung from
the broad back of a sturdy quadruped. Dresses became more fanciful,
both in materials and colours. From this it was but a step to even more
elaborate toilettes which necessitated a conveyance of some sort on
wheels, but the most intrepid still clung to the traditionally classic
methods. Marie Antoinette had her _equipage de chasse_, and Madame
Durfort was constantly abroad in the forests of Montmorency and Boissy,
directing the operation of eight or ten professional huntsmen. Among her
guests were frequently the ambassadors of Prussia, Russia and Austria.
In the time of Louis XIV the Comtesse de Lude devoted herself to the
hunt with a frenzy born of an inordinate enthusiasm. At the head of a
pack of hounds she knew no obstacle, and, on one occasion, penetrated on
horseback, followed by her dogs, into the oratory of the nuns of the
Convent of Estival.
By the end of the seventeenth century the hunt in France had become no
more a sport for ladies. Hunting was still a noble sport, but it was
more for men than for women. The court hunted not only in royal company,
but accepted invitations from any seigneur who possessed an ample
preserve and who could put up a good kill; magistrates, financiers and
bishops, indeed all classes, became followers of the hunt.
Montgaillard tells of a hunt in which he took part on the feast day of
Saint Bernard, with the monks of the Bernardin Convent in Languedoc. In
the episcopal domain of Saverne six hundred beaters were employed on one
occasion to provide sport for an assembled company of lords and ladies.
These were the days when the bishops were in truth _Grand Seigneurs_.
The women of the court, while they played the game, ceded nothing to the
men in bravery. Neither rain, hail nor snow frightened them. On the 28th
of June, 1713, Louis XIV was hunting the deer at Rambouillet when a
terrific, cyclonic storm fell upon the equipage, but not a man nor woman
in the monarch's party quit. The Duchesse de Berry was "wet to the
skin," but her ardour for the hunt was not in the least cooled.
To-day at Fontainebleau or Rambouillet the echo is sounded from the
hunting horn of Labaudy, the sugar-king, who pulls off at least two
"hunts," with his spectacular equipage, each year, and it is a sight
too; a French hunting party was ever picturesque, and if to-day not as
practical as the more blood-loving Englishman's hunt, is at least
traditionally sentimental, even artificial to the extent, at any rate,
that it seems stagy, even to the inclusion of the automobiles which
bring and carry away the participants. "Other days, other ways" never
had a more strict application than to _la chasse a courre_ in France.
Two accounts are here given of two comparatively modern figures in the
French hunting field, which show the great store set by the sport in
France.
In the annals of the Chateau de Grosbois, belonging to-day to the Prince
de Wagram, are the accounts of an early nineteenth century hunt, which
shows that the game cost dear. The "Grand Veneur" of the Napoleonic
reign was a master sportsman, indeed, and to-day, in a gallery of the
chateau, are preserved the guns of the master, his hunting crop and
saddle, his "colours" and his hunting horn.
From the registers of the chateau, under date of December 10, 1809, the
following, which concerned a hunting party given by the chatelain, is
extracted verbatim.
Note of the Maitre d'Hotel for collations for the guests 8,226 francs
Illuminations 1,080 francs
Gratifications to the beaters 1,000 francs
Eau de Cologne for the ladies 30 francs
Gun-bearers 148 francs
Helpers (150) 600 francs
Aids (200) 315 francs
Another hunt was given in 1811, in honour of Napoleon, when such items
as three thousand francs for an orchestra, a like sum for bouquets for
the ladies, a thousand or two for bonbons and fans, and twelve thousand
for hired furniture, etc., to say nothing of the expenses of the hunt
itself, made the bag somewhat costly. It was not always easy for the
master of the hunt to get justice when it came to paying for his
supplies, and in these same records a mention of a dozen leather
breeches at a hundred and forty francs each was crossed off and a
marginal note, _Non_, added in the hand of Marechal Berthier, Prince de
Wagram, himself.
The chief figure in the French hunting world of to-day is another
descendant of the Napoleonic portrait gallery, Prince Murat. At the age
of twelve the young Prince Joachim had already followed the hounds at
Fontainebleau and Compiegne. In his double quality of relative and
companion of the Prince Imperial he was one of the chiefs of the
equipment of the Imperial Hunt. To-day, though well past the span of
life, he is as active and as enduring in his participation in the
strenuous sport as many a younger man and his knowledge of the grand art
of _venerie_, and his ardour for being always ahead with the hounds, is
noted by all who may happen to see him while jaunting through the
Foret de Compiegne, keeping well up with the traditions of his worthy
elder, the "Premier Cavalier" of the First Empire, the King of Naples.
[Illustration: _An Imperial Hunt at Fontainebleau_]
He won his first stripes in the hunting field at Compiegne in 1868, at a
hunt given in honour of the Prince de Hohenzollern and the Princesse,
who was the sister of the King of Portugal. It was a most moving event,
so much so that it just escaped being turned into a drama, for one of
the ladies of the court had a leg broken, and the minister, Fould, was
almost mortally injured. A "_dix cors_," a stag with antlers of ten
branches, had been run down at the Rond Royal where it had taken refuge
in a near-by copse, and after an hour's hard chase was finally cornered
in the courtyard of some farm buildings of the Hameau d'Orillets. A
troop of cows was entering the courtyard at the same moment, and a most
confused melee ensued. The Inspector of Forests saved the situation and
the cows of the farmer, and the stag fell to the carabine of Prince de
la Moskowa, with the young Prince Murat on his pony in the very front
rank.
Thus early initiated in the chivalrous sport of the hunt the young man
followed every hunt, big or little, which was held in the environs of
Paris for many years, and by the time that he came to possess the
epaulettes of an Officier de Cuirassiers he was known to all the hunts
from the Ardennes to Anjou.
For the past generation he has been retired to civil life by a
Republican decree, and since that time has lived in his suburban Paris
property, devoting himself to the raising of hunters. Here he lives
almost on the borders of that great extent of forest which occupies the
northern section of the Ile de France, occasionally organizing a hunt,
which takes on not a little of the noble aspect of a former time, the
prince following always within sound of the hunting horn and the baying
of the hounds, if not actually always within sight of the quarry.
It is here, in his Villa Normande, near which Saint Ouen gave Dagobert
that famous counsel which has gone down in history, that the Prince and
Princesse Murat come to pass two or three months each year with their
children, their allied parents and the "great guns" of the old regime
who still gather about the master of the hunt as courtiers gather around
their king.
At Chamblay there have been held magnificent gun shoots under the
organization of the prince and his equipage. His kennels contain
forty-eight of the finest bred hounds in France, and are guarded by
three caretakers, the goader, Carl, whose fame has reached every
hunting court of Europe and a couple of _valets des chiens_. The
prince's colours are distributed as follows: a huzzar jacket of blue,
with collar, plaquettes, and vest of grenadine and breeches of a darker
blue.
Formerly Prince Murat hunted the roe-deer in the valley of the Oise, but
many enclosures of private property having made this exceedingly
difficult in later years he is to-day obliged to go farther afield. In
the spring the equipage goes to Rosny, near Mantes, and perhaps during
the same season occasionally to Rambouillet.
The hunts at Chamblay are the perfection of the practice of the art.
Seldom is the quarry wanting. The refrain of the Ode to Saint Hubert
lauds the prowess of this great "Maitre d'Equipage."
"Par Saint Hubert mon patron
C'est quelque due de haut renom
* * *
Sonnez: ecuyers et piqueux
Un Murat vien en ces lieux."
Chamblay fortunately being neither populous nor near a great town there
is no throng of curious spectators hovering about to get in the way and
scare the game and the hounds and their followers out of their wits. The
Chasse de Chamblay is the devotion of the _vrais veneurs_; the Prince
Murat and his son, the Prince Joachim, (to-day at the military school at
Saint Cyr), the Prince Eugene Murat, the Comte de Vallon, the Baron de
Neuflize and a few famous _veneurs_ in gay uniforms come from afar to
give eclat to the hunt of the master. And the ladies: the following
names are of those devoted to the prowess of the Prince Murat--Madame la
Princesse, la Princesse Marguerite Murat, Mademoiselle d'Elchingen, the
Duchesse and the Marquise d'Albufera, the Duchesse de Camestra, and
Madame Kraft.
From this one sees that romance is not all smouldering. If other proof
were wanting a perusal of that most complete and interesting account of
the hunt in France in modern times, "_Les Chasses de Rambouillet_"
(_Ouvrage offert par Monsieur Felix Faure_) would soon establish it.
This was not a work destined for the public at large. The hunt was ever
a sport of kings in France, and though France has become Republican its
_Chasse Nationale_ at Rambouillet partakes not a little of the aspect of
those courtly days when there was less up-to-dateness and more
sentiment.
[Illustration: _Rendezvous de Chasse, Rambouillet_]
There were but one hundred copies of this work printed for the friends
of the late president of the Republic--"Other Sovereigns," as the
dedication reads, "Princes, Grand Dukes, Ambassadors."
Rambouillet was the theatre of the most splendid hunts of the sixteenth
century, and down through the ages it has ever held a preeminent place;
holds it to-day even. Louis XVI in the Revolutionary torment even
regretted the cutting off of his prerogative of the royal hunt, but he
had no choice in the matter. In his journal of 1789 one reads: "the cerf
runs alone in the Parc en Bas" (Rambouillet), and again in 1790: "Seance
of the National Assembly at noon; Audience of a deputation in the
afternoon. The deer plentiful at Gambayseuil."
The Revolution felled many French institutions; low, great,
ecclesiastical and monarchial monuments, the trees of the forest, and
the royal game, by a system of poaching, had become greatly diminished
in quantity.
The nineteenth century, so frankly democratic in its latter years, was
less favourable to the hunt than the monarchial days which had gone
before. It had a considerable prominence under Charles X, more perhaps
than it ever had under Napoleon, who in his infancy and laborious
adolescence had few opportunities of following it; and in the later
years of his life he was too busy.
Napoleon III was not really a "good hunter," though he was something of
a marksman and took a considerable pride in his skill in that
accomplishment.
Entering the democratic era, Jules Grevy seems to have been only a
pot-hunter of the _bourgeoisie_, who practiced the art only because he
wanted a jugged hare for his dinner, or again simply to kill time.
Sadi-Carnot was still less a hunter of the romantic school, but assisted
frequently at the ceremonial shootings which were arranged for visiting
monarchs. On one occasion he was put down on the record-sheet of a hunt
at Rambouillet as responsible only for the death of eighteen heads,
whilst a visiting Grand Duke pulled down a hundred and fifty.
It was notably during the presidency of Felix Faure that Rambouillet
again took on its animation of former times. The chateau had been
furbished up once more after a long sleep, and, to the great
satisfaction of the inhabitants of the town, there were more comings and
goings than there had been for a quarter of a century.
In the summer and autumn the president made Rambouillet his preferred
residence, and there received many visiting sovereigns and notables of
all ranks. In one year a score of "Official Hunts" were held, to which
all the members of the diplomatic corps were invited, while there were
two or three affairs of an "International" character in honour of
visiting sovereigns.
All was under the control of the Grand Veneur of the Third Republic, the
Comte de Girardin, and while a truly royal flavour may have been lacking
the general aspect was much the same as it might have been in the days
of the monarchy. The Captain of the Hunt under Felix Faure was the
Inspector of Forests, Leddet, and the Premier Veneur was the Commandant
Lagarenne.
The president himself was a marksman of the first rank, and never was
there a reckoning up of the _tableau_ but that he was near the head of
the list. So accomplished was he with the rifle that on more than one
occasion he was obliged to practically efface himself in favour of some
visiting monarch, as it was said he did in the case of the King of
Portugal in 1895, the Grand Ducs Vladimir and Nicolas in 1896.
Huntsmen not royal by virtue of title, or alliance, the Republican
president beat to a stand-still. He had no pity nor favour for a mere
ambassador, whether he hailed from England or Germany, nor for members
of the Institute, Senators nor Deputies. With Prince Albert of Monaco
he held himself equal, and for every bird shot on the wing by the head
of the house of Grimaldi the "longshoreman" of Havre brought down
another.
_La chasse a courre_ before the law in France to-day may be practiced
only under strictly laid down conditions. The huntsman must legally have
his dogs under such control, and keep sufficiently close to them, as to
be able to recover the quarry immediately after it has been closed in
upon by the hounds.
Like shooting, since the Decree of 1844, hunting with hounds may only be
undertaken under authority of a _permis de chasse_, and in open season,
during the daytime, and with the consent of the owners over whose
properties the hunt is to be held.
The ceremony of the hunt in France now follows the traditions of the
classic hunt of the monarchy. The _veneur_ decides on the rendezvous,
whether the quarry be stag or chevreuil, fox or hare. The _piqueur_
follows close up with the dogs, sets them on or calls them off, and
recalls them if they go off on a false scent.