This English General rode his horse with a snaffle only, and the beast
had a mouth of iron. It was useless to pull him back. One might as well
try to keep a grenadier from a wine-bottle. I gave it up in despair,
and, settling down in the saddle, I prepared for the worst which could
befall.
What a creature he was! Never have I felt such a horse between my knees.
His great haunches gathered under him with every stride, and he shot
forward ever faster and faster, stretched like a greyhound, while
the wind beat in my face and whistled past my ears. I was wearing our
undress jacket, a uniform simple and dark in itself--though some figures
give distinction to any uniform--and I had taken the precaution to
remove the long panache from my busby. The result was that, amidst the
mixture of costumes in the hunt, there was no reason why mine should
attract attention, or why these men, whose thoughts were all with the
chase, should give any heed to me. The idea that a French officer might
be riding with them was too absurd to enter their minds. I laughed as I
rode, for, indeed, amid all the danger, there was something of comic in
the situation.
I have said that the hunters were very unequally mounted, and so at the
end of a few miles, instead of being one body of men, like a charging
regiment, they were scattered over a considerable space, the better
riders well up to the dogs and the others trailing away behind.
Now, I was as good a rider as any, and my horse was the best of them
all, and so you can imagine that it was not long before he carried me
to the front. And when I saw the dogs streaming over the open, and
the red-coated huntsman behind them, and only seven or eight horsemen
between us, then it was that the strangest thing of all happened, for I,
too, went mad--I, Etienne Gerard!
In a moment it came upon me, this spirit of sport, this desire to excel,
this hatred of the fox. Accursed animal, should he then defy us? Vile
robber, his hour was come!
Ah, it is a great feeling, this feeling of sport, my friends, this
desire to trample the fox under the hoofs of your horse. I have made
the fox chase with the English. I have also, as I may tell you some day,
fought the box-fight with the Bustler, of Bristol. And I say to you that
this sport is a wonderful thing--full of interest as well as madness.
The farther we went the faster galloped my horse, and soon there were
but three men as near the dogs as I was.
All thought of fear of discovery had vanished. My brain throbbed, my
blood ran hot--only one thing upon earth seemed worth living for, and
that was to overtake this infernal fox. I passed one of the horsemen--a
Hussar like myself. There were only two in front of me now: the one in a
black coat, the other the blue artilleryman whom I had seen at the inn.
His grey whiskers streamed in the wind, but he rode magnificently. For a
mile or more we kept in this order, and then, as we galloped up a steep
slope, my lighter weight brought me to the front.
I passed them both, and when I reached the crown I was riding level with
the little, hard-faced English huntsman.
In front of us were the dogs, and then, a hundred paces beyond them, was
a brown wisp of a thing, the fox itself, stretched to the uttermost. The
sight of him fired my blood. “Aha, we have you then, assassin!” I cried,
and shouted my encouragement to the huntsman. I waved my hand to show
him that there was one upon whom he could rely.
And now there were only the dogs between me and my prey. These dogs,
whose duty it is to point out the game, were now rather a hindrance than
a help to us, for it was hard to know how to pass them. The huntsman
felt the difficulty as much as I, for he rode behind them, and could
make no progress toward the fox. He was a swift rider, but wanting in
enterprise. For my part, I felt that it would be unworthy of the Hussars
of Conflans if I could not overcome such a difficulty as this.
Was Etienne Gerard to be stopped by a herd of fox-dogs?
It was absurd. I gave a shout and spurred my horse.
“Hold hard, sir! Hold hard!” cried the huntsman.
He was uneasy for me, this good old man, but I reassured him by a wave
and a smile. The dogs opened in front of me. One or two may have been
hurt, but what would you have? The egg must be broken for the omelette.
I could hear the huntsman shouting his congratulations behind me. One
more effort, and the dogs were all behind me. Only the fox was in front.
Ah, the joy and pride of that moment! To know that I had beaten the
English at their own sport. Here were three hundred, all thirsting for
the life of this animal, and yet it was I who was about to take it. I
thought of my comrades of the light cavalry brigade, of my mother, of
the Emperor, of France. I had brought honour to each and all. Every
instant brought me nearer to the fox. The moment for action had arrived,
so I unsheathed my sabre. I waved it in the air, and the brave English
all shouted behind me.
Only then did I understand how difficult is this fox chase, for one may
cut again and again at the creature and never strike him once. He is
small, and turns quickly from a blow. At every cut I heard those shouts
of encouragement from behind me, and they spurred me to yet another
effort. And then at last the supreme moment of my triumph arrived. In
the very act of turning I caught him fair with such another back-handed
cut as that with which I killed the aide-de-camp of the Emperor of
Russia. He flew into two pieces, his head one way and his tail another.
I looked back and waved the blood-stained sabre in the air. For the
moment I was exalted--superb!
Ah! how I should have loved to have waited to have received the
congratulations of these generous enemies.
There were fifty of them in sight, and not one who was not waving his
hand and shouting. They are not really such a phlegmatic race, the
English. A gallant deed in war or in sport will always warm their
hearts. As to the old huntsman, he was the nearest to me, and I could
see with my own eyes how overcome he was by what he had seen. He was
like a man paralysed, his mouth open, his hand, with outspread fingers,
raised in the air. For a moment my inclination was to return and to
embrace him.
But already the call of duty was sounding in my ears, and these English,
in spite of all the fraternity which exists among sportsmen, would
certainly have made me prisoner. There was no hope for my mission now,
and I had done all that I could do. I could see the lines of Massena's
camp no very great distance off, for, by a lucky chance, the chase had
taken us in that direction.