Trip to Alabama

watercolor

What a Great Story

It all began in 1953 with the birth of Capucine (meaning Capuchin nun), one of the last descendents of the Royal white hounds, that I bought from Antony Hublot du Rivault, along with her brothers. I was a great admirer of this breed.

Souillard, the first white hound, was given to King Louis XI (1423-1483). His daughter, Anne de Beaujeu, had him cover Baude, her wonderful bitch. She had a litter of twelve and from them descended the Royal white hounds.

Capucine was the beginning of my adventures in venery, of my first hunts, and of this story. Having founded “le Rallye Teillay,” (the Teillay Rally), a hunting team that hunts le chevreuil (the roe-buck), I found I had to balance the budget. To make ends meet we sometimes went to sound the hunting horns at the Chateau d’Artigny when colloquiums and other important meetings were held there.

One evening during an event in which different nations participated, some Americans were in attendance. They asked us if they could borrow our uniforms. Thus attired, they had photos taken on the steps of the Chateau d’Artigny blowing our horns.

Fifteen days later, I received a letter saying: “We are organizing a festival for March 1973, in Birmingham, Alabama, whose theme will be FRANCE. We would be very happy if you could come sound your horns for us, five times a day for eight days. You would stay with our families.”

And so, we found ourselves on a beautiful morning in March of 1973 in the Orly airport ready for our wonderful and unexpected adventure in the United States.

It was a great success. The hunting dress with riding boots, white stockings, garters, spurs, and our fanfares were unfamiliar to most. The younger men (our youngest was fifteen) were soon surrounded by a buzzing beehive of young girls wanting to speak French.

The Alabamians had organized an exposition on France for the festival. The president of this organization was Madame Kitty Scott . Under an immense structure that could have held 5 football fields were recreated the Champs Elysees, the Eiffel Tower, the Arc de Triomphe, and stands of every kind.

One day during my stay an interesting thing happened. I was informed that a telegram had arrived. Unfortunately, I could not understand the post woman. Worried, I thought that there might be a problem at home or that something had happened to my family. Finally, she spelled out the words for me and I wrote them down: “Billot, brocard pris.” Eric, a member of our team who had had to remain in France to take his exams, was telegramming me to say that a big brocard ( two- year-old stag with its first horns) had been taken in the town of Billot after a six hour hunt with three horsemen. Instead of sounding the usual fanfares that day, we sounded in Birmingham, Alabama the quarry of this roebuck taken in the Maine et Loire region of France. We have the distinction of being the only team in the world to have sounded in America for the quarry of a deer taken in the forest of Monnaie.

A friendship grew between us all. Before we left, my friends in Alabama asked me what I thought of their country. “You are all wonderful,” I said, “but my country is more beautiful than yours. And the easiest way to find out if that is true is to come visit !” Three weeks later I received a telegram saying: “Ten of us are coming to see if what you say is true.”

Bernadette, my wife, took charge of their visit, organizing two grand meals “a la francaise.” The first was to be at my house, the second at the home of my brother. They say they are still talking about it! They also got to see the real France that many tourists don’t get to experience --- exploring many unique parts of the countryside, the Loire region, and manor houses that are not open to the public.

To our great joy, one of the families who visited us, the Scotts, decided in 1979 to buy a house in Brehemont, a village very close to us. Since then, every year we gather at my home, Le Temple, for the Friday evening sortie des chiens, or release of the hounds.

Fifteen years after our stay in Alabama, when our visit was but a treasured memory, I received another letter saying that the people of Birmingham had not forgotten us. They were putting on another festival and wanted us to return.

Time had passed and our transport was now in the hands of the regional department, so this time when we boarded the plane at Orly, we were furnished with engravings, tapestries, tourist documents and hostesses from the region of Touraine to present at the festival.

Our trip became quite the party! At our departure from Orly, we wanted to rehearse so we sounded the horns in the waiting room to the delight of our fellow travelers. At 18,000 meters above the Atlantic, I requested permission from the pilots to take out our horns. Lined up in the aisles of the plane, a fanfare rang out, awakening the sleeping passengers. Everyone was very surprised yet very pleased. I think we must be the only team to have blown our horns at such an altitude. From then on, nothing could stop us. We saluted America when we arrived in New York at Kennedy airport, again to the great pleasure of the other travelers.

We were warmly welcomed to Birmingham, not only by our old friends, but also by their young children. Although fifteen years had passed since our last visit, we felt as if we had never left.

Once settled in with our host families, we began our performances. We sounded on the stage of the recreated “Moulin Rouge” in the Boutwell Auditorium. What a magnificent experience! Besides our performances (three times a day), we visited the town, horse farms, a race track, an old metallurgy factory, the statue of Vulcan, and many other sites. Our friends went to great lengths to please us.

For example, the noon meal, which was often of the MacDonald variety, was not really what we were used to. We explained to them our tastes, and the next day we had bread and cheese imported from France!

One evening during dinner, a funny thing happened. A handsome black man with white hair and white vest brought in the cheese tray. In the middle of the tray was a camembert, especially sent by plane from Normandy. Pascal Houette looked at it for a long time and everyone at the table watched in silence. With great care he began to cut a small triangle of cheese. Then, suddenly, he plunged his knife into the biggest portion and put it on his plate. Everyone burst out laughing as the story spread from table to table.

We also sounded in Birmingham during a gala dinner under the Presidency of Madame de Marjorie, wife of the French Ambassador in New York. We had common friends in Touraine who were living at the Chateau de Poille. She kindly remarked that we were the very best ambassadors France could have. We were even requested by the Embassy to sound for a reception at the White House. Unfortunately, the event was cancelled at the last minute.

We were very busy during our stay: we made a recording of our fanfares (later called Souvenirs d’Alabama), visited schools in groups of three (in our huge American rental car) to explain venery a la francaise, and then, of course, we had our performances at the “Moulin Rouge.”

A mass was held at the Cathedral of Saint Paul in Birmingham with a duo of the grand organ and Hubert Coispel on the horn playing Ave Maria. We will always remember the long, deafening, standing ovation we received from the church packed with parishioners. Afterwards, a sumptuous reception was held at the Rectory featuring all kinds of fine whiskeys and bourbons. This is how we met Father Richard Donohoe, the youngest priest at the cathedral. We noticed his car parked in front of the Rectory with license plates, front and back that read “JESUS.” He later earned the name “Super Curé.”

For the next two years Father Donohoe came to France in November to say mass for us on the Feast of St. Hubert (the patron saint of huntsmen). It seemed to be the end of a beautiful story.

But then, I got an e-mail from Kitty Scott telling me that Father Donohoe had been named the new rector of the Cathedral. I knew my old friend would help me tell my story to his parish and all of the diocese. You see, I had set up an association to buy and then restore an ancient and beautiful church in France. I was very excited about this project, but it would require that I raise more funds to carry out the restoration. With help from my friends in Birmingham, a committee was formed and a website (Notre-Dame-de-Rigny) was created so that others can contribute to this cause.

So, I dream of a happy ending to this lovely story in which my old church is rescued. I invite you to come and visit Notre-Dame-de Rigny and my beautiful region located in the heart of France.

In Birmingham, we composed a fanfare called Souvenirs d’Alabama (Memories of Alabama). But what nobody there knows is that since September 11th, in remembrance, we sound that fanfare at every hunt.

With kind regards,
Marc

The Rallye Teillay.
Le Rally Teillay
Thanks to "Rallye Teillay", venery has been exported and known now in he United States.