The next day but one following, which was the day appointed for putting
Pierre Lenet's plans in execution, was one of the gloomiest of spring
days, a season which is traditionally called the most beautiful of the
year, but which is always, especially in France, the most disagreeable.
A fine, soaking rain was falling in the parterres of Chantilly,
streaking the clumps of trees in the garden and the hedge-rows in
the park with a grayish mist. In the great court-yards fifty horses,
all ready saddled, were standing about the hitching posts, sad-eyed,
with ears drooping, impatiently pawing the ground; packs of hounds in
couples were waiting in groups of twelve, breathing noisily, gaping
between whiles, and striving by their united efforts to run away with
the groom, who was wiping the rain-soaked ears of his favorites.
The whippers-in, in chamois livery, with their hands behind their
backs and their horns slung over their shoulders, wandered hither
and thither. Some few officers, inured to storms by their experience
at Rocroy or Lens, defied the rain, and whiled away the weary time
of waiting by talking together in groups upon the terraces and outer
staircases.
Every one was notified that it was a ceremonious occasion, and had
assumed his most solemn expression to see Monsieur le Duc d'Enghien
wearing his first pair of breeches, hunt his first stag. Every officer
in the prince's service, every adherent of the illustrious family,
invited by Lenet's circular letter, had fulfilled what he considered
his bounden duty by hastening to Chantilly. The anxiety aroused in the
first instance by the condition of the princess dowager was dissipated
by a favorable bulletin from Bourdelot. She had been bled, and had that
morning taken an emetic, the universal panacea at that period.
At ten o'clock all Madame de Condé's personal guests had arrived; each
one was admitted upon presenting his letter of invitation, and those
who, by any chance, had neglected to bring it, upon being recognized by
Lenet were admitted by the Swiss at a nod from him. These guests, with
the household staff, constituted a body of eighty or ninety men, most
of whom were gathered about the superb white horse, upon whose back,
just in front of the great French saddle, was a little velvet seat with
a back, intended for Monsieur le Duc d'Enghien, where he was to take
his place when Vialas, his equerry, should have taken his seat upon the
principal saddle.
However, there was as yet no suggestion of beginning the hunt, but they
seemed to await the arrival of additional guests.
About half-past ten, three gentlemen, followed by six valets all armed
to the teeth, and carrying valises so swollen that one would have said
they were starting out to make the tour of Europe, rode in at the gate
and noticing the posts in the court-yard, apparently put there for that
purpose, attempted to hitch their horses to them.
Immediately a man dressed in blue, with a silver baldric, halberd in
hand, accosted the new-comers, who, by their drenched clothing and
their mud-stained boots, were easily recognized as travellers from a
distance.
"Whence come you, messieurs?" said this functionary.
"From the North," one of them replied.
"Whither go you?"
"To the burial."
"The proof?"
"You see our crèpe."
It was a fact that the three masters had each a piece of crèpe on their
swords.
"Excuse me, messieurs," said the halberdier; "the château is yours.
There is a table spread, an apartment warmed, servants awaiting your
orders; your people will be entertained in the servants' quarters."
The gentlemen, who were honest rustics, half-starved and inquisitive,
bowed, dismounted, threw their reins to their servants, and having
been shown the way to the dining-hall, betook themselves thither. A
chamberlain awaited them at the door, and acted as their guide.
Meanwhile the horses were taken off the hands of the strange servants
by the servants of the house, taken to the stables, rubbed down,
brushed, watered, and confronted with a trough well supplied with oats
and a rack filled with hay.
The three gentlemen had hardly taken their places at the table, when
six other horsemen, followed by six lackeys armed and equipped like
those we have described, rode in as they did, and like them, seeing the
posts, essayed to hitch their horses to the rings. But the man with the
halberd, who had received strict orders, approached them and repeated
his questions.
"Whence come you?" said he.
"From Picardy. We are officers in Turenne."
"Whither go you?"
"To the burial."
"The proof."
"You see our crèpe."
And like their predecessors, they pointed to the crèpe attached to the
hilt of their rapiers.
The same attention was shown to them, and they followed the others to
the dining-hall; the same care was bestowed upon their horses, who
followed the other horses to the stables.
Behind them came four others, and the same scene was renewed.
Between half-past ten and noon, two by two, four by four, five by five,
alone or in parties, shabbily or sumptuously dressed, but all well
mounted, well armed, and well equipped, a hundred cavaliers made their
appearance, all of whom were questioned according to the same formula,
and replied by stating whence they came and that they were going to the
burial, and by exhibiting their crèpe.
When they had all dined, and become acquainted with one another, while
their people were being entertained and their horses were resting,
Lenet entered the room where they were all assembled, and said to
them:--
"Messieurs, Madame la Princesse thanks you by my mouth for the honor
you have done her by calling upon her on your way to join Monsieur
le Duc de La Rochefoucauld, who awaits your coming to celebrate the
obsequies of his late father. Look upon this house as your own, and
deign to take part in the diversion of a stag hunt, ordered to take
place this afternoon by Monsieur le Duc d'Enghien, who dons to-day his
first pair of breeches."
A murmur of approbation and gratitude welcomed the first part of
Lenet's harangue, who, like a practised orator, paused for that purpose.
"After the hunt," he continued, "you will sup with Madame la Princesse,
who desires to thank you in person; thereafter you will be at liberty
to continue your journey."
Some of the gentlemen paid particular attention to the announcement of
this programme, which seemed to some extent to impose fetters on their
free will; but in all likelihood they had been warned by Monsieur de
La Rochefoucauld to expect something of the sort, for not one of them
murmured. Some went to inspect their horses; others had recourse to
their portmanteaux to put themselves in fit condition to appear before
the princesses; while others remained at table, talking about the state
of affairs in the country, which seemed to have some affinity with the
events of the day.
Many walked about beneath the main balcony where Monsieur le Duc
d'Enghien, his toilet completed, was expected to appear for the last
time before his final farewell to female attendants.
The young prince in his nursery, surrounded by nurses and playthings,
did not realize his own importance. But the pride of birth manifested
itself in full measure, and he gazed impatiently at the rich, yet
simple costume in which he was to be dressed for the first time. It
was a black velvet suit trimmed with unpolished silver, which made it
appear as if he were dressed in mourning: indeed his mother, who was
determined at all hazards to pose as a widow, thought seriously of
speaking of him in a certain harangue as the "_poor orphaned prince._"
But there was one who eyed these splendid garments even more longingly
than the prince. A few feet from him, another child, a few months older
than he, with red cheeks and light hair, overflowing with health and
strength and childish petulance, was devouring with hungry eyes the
luxurious surroundings of his more fortunate playfellow. Several times,
unable to repress his curiosity, he had ventured to approach the chair
upon which the fine clothes were spread out, and had slyly patted the
velvet and caressed the trimming, while the little prince was looking
in another direction. But at last it happened that he brought back his
eyes in time, and Pierrot drew his hand away too late.
"Take care!" cried the prince, sharply: "take care, Pierrot, you'll
spoil my new breeches; they're 'broidered velvet, Pierrot, and it fades
when you touch it. I forbid you touching my breeches!"
Pierrot hid the guilty hand behind his back, twisting his shoulders
this way and that, as children of all ranks do when they are crossed.
"Don't be angry, Louis," said Madame la Princesse to her son, whose
features were disfigured by an ugly grimace. "If Pierrot touches your
suit again, he shall be whipped."
Pierrot changed his sulky expression for a threatening one.
"Monseigneur's a prince," he said, "but I'm a gardener; and if
monseigneur is to keep me from touching his clothes, I won't let him
play with my Guinea hens. Ah! I'm stronger than monseigneur, and he
knows it."
These imprudent words were no sooner out of Pierrot's mouth, than
the prince's nurse, who was Pierrot's mother, seized the independent
youngster by the wrist, and said:--
"Pierrot, you forget that monseigneur is your master, the master of
everything in the château and around the château, and so your Guinea
hens are his."
"Why, I thought he was my brother," said Pierrot.
"Your foster-brother, yes."
"If he's my brother, we ought to share; and if my Guinea hens are his,
his clothes are mine."
The nurse was about to reply by a demonstration of the difference
between a uterine brother and a foster-brother, but the young prince,
who wished Pierrot to witness his triumph from beginning to end,
because he was especially desirous to excite Pierrot's admiration and
envy, did not give her time.
"Don't be afraid, Pierrot," said he; "I am not angry with you, and you
shall see me in a little while on my fine white horse, and my nice
little saddle! I am going to hunt, and I shall kill the stag!"
"Oh! yes," retorted the irreverent Pierrot, "you'll stay a long while
on horseback! You wanted to ride my donkey the other day, and my donkey
threw you off on to the ground!"
"Yes, but to-day," rejoined the prince, with all the majesty he could
summon to his assistance and find in his memory,--"to-day I represent
my papa, and I shall not fall. Besides, Vialas will hold me in his
arms."
"Come, come," said Madame la Princesse, to cut short the discussion
between the children, "come and dress the prince! One o'clock is
striking, and all our friends are waiting impatiently. Lenet, bid them
give the signal for departure."