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"Par Saint Hubert mon patron C'est quelque due de haut renom * Sonnez: écuyers 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.
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."
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.
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