joy the diversion of hunting, I resolved to be there to
meet them, to see with my own eyes a royal personage of whom I had heard
so much. Accordingly I ordered post horses, and arrived in the town about
six hours after his Most Christian Majesty.

After breakfasting on a cold partridge and some excellent coffee, I set
out at eight o'clock for the forest. Even at that hour--a late one in
France, when compared with England--the roads were by no means thronged,
and I could very plainly perceive that the major part of the equestrians
were attached to the court, and that the pedestrians were either such as
had been in the enjoyment of some of the good things of this life under
the present family, or such as were in expectancy of them. There was a
third class, altogether composed of the mob, who, partly incited by the
desire of plunder, the love of idleness, or an indistinct hope of
obtaining the entrails of the deer, flocked in great numbers to witness
the feats of the royal party. Among this latter class, old men, old women,
and very young boys predominated.

The forest of Fontainbleau is in itself beautiful in the extreme. The
various alleys formed by the manner in which the oak trees are planted,
create an imposing and majestic _coup d'oeil_, which is only bounded
almost by the horizon. At the bottom and in the middle of these alleys
were placed mounted _gendarmes_ to restrain the intrusion of the populace,
and to prevent them from coming--such is French curiosity--within shot of
the hunters. At the end of one of these alleys, to my left, the great
body of the crowd was stationed, and at the top of it was an enclosed
space, somewhat like a stand on a race course, on which the royal party
took their station, while the carriages and servants remained quietly
behind. Across this stand, and within the enclosed space, were the
roe-buck, fawns, and young wild boar goaded, while the King, the Dauphin,
the Duc de Grammont, and the rest of the royal party, had their shots in
succession, or, as it is technically termed, their "_coup_." Ten men were
busy charging for the King, while as many were engaged for the Dauphin.
Ammunition and cartridges were borne by four attendants, who, as well as
the chargers, were all in the livery of the King's huntsmen. As shot
after shot passed in quick succession, the sounds fell chiefly on the
ears of those among the crowd--and they were the fewer number--who had
hearts within them, and to British