To feel the wind | Early Morning, Saturday 24th September, 1678

[Sobriety]

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Royal Mews

The Household Cavalry, the oldest English regiment, consists of The Life Guards and The Blues and The Royal Horse Guards. The regiment consists of two units comprising all three "colors". The mounted regiment, as opposed to the unit commonly known as the Life Guard (despite its broader mix) maintains the Royal Mews.

Here enough stabling is provided for the horses of those who are in residence with the Household Cavalry as well as any visiting dignitaries and nobles. The well covered building is also used to provide shelter for coaches.

The morning had dawned brisk and bright and those gentlemen - and possibly a few more adventurous ladies - who were inclined to take their energetic activities early had bustled themselves outside; some to the mews. A gentleman in a black woolen riding habit, his blonde hair - now greying at the temples and forelock - tied neatly back, waited patiently whilst a groom saddled the chestnut mare in the closest stall. She was regarding the groom with an irritated cant to her ears, and the blonde gentleman was talking to her quietly, stroking her long nose to distract her. 

[Charles Blount]

The stables were fairly quiet this time of morning as courtiers tended to use the early hours of the morning to recoup from their excessed the night before so it was that most of the bustle was from the stable hands watering and feeding the horses and mucking out their stalls. It was thus that allowed Charles Dormer was able to intermittently hear someone speaking in an adjacent stall. By his elocution the speaker was obviously a gentleman and by his tone he seemed to be speaking to a familiar servant. He could not make out the gist of the conversation, only a few words here and there, but it appeared to be of a personal nature.

Mountjoy had risen early and hastened to the mews as he did not want to risk an awkward confrontation with Lady Mountjoy. He was brushing his horse Roland, a task he found relaxing, and mulling over his situation. He would have preferred baring his soul to his Irish Wolfhound for, as everyone knew, dogs, unlike horses, did not judge their masters. But bran was in London so it was to Roland that Mountjoy turned. Alas Roland did not offer any sage advice he finished by saying “Here, take this apple and I will have some oats brought in and keep this to yourself.

The stall opened and out walked a gentleman who appeared to be in his mid-thirties of average height and athletic build wearing a plain Tobacco brown justacorps of stout English broadcloth with black silk lining visible on the cuffs with lacquered carved burled oak buttons over a waistcoat of beige suede fawnskin with an embroidered edging in gold thread of entwined hunting horns and deer antlers. The breeches matched the coat and were tucked into calf length brown leather Spanish boots laced up the sides and tied with a rosette of cut pheasant feathers.  His shirt was lightly laced white linen open at the throat for ease of movement over-tied by a knotted black cashmere cravat. His wig was of dark auburn curls and he was not currently wearing a hat. An ivory headed hunting crop was hanging from a coat button. A glimpse inside the stall revealed the only other occupant to be a handsome grey Andalusian.

Upon exiting the stall Mountjoy had not expected to see another person in the vicinity or he would have been more circumspect but the gentleman, whom he did not recognize, was preoccupied with calming his own horse so likely was not eavesdropping. Approaching he firstly addressed the Groom. “Try not to agitate the Gentleman’s horse Walter. And when you are finished, please see that Roland gets a quart of oats.” The instructions were given politely but with an air of authority but the speaker did not look like any kind of stable manager.

“I see we have another that prefers the early morning for their rides.” He said to Dormer as a way of facilitating conversation. “I have always found a vigorous ride in the cool of a misty dawn the perfect way to start ones day.”   

 

 

Edited September 8 by Charles Blount

[Sobriety]

Dormer had heard someone having a conversation in one of the other stalls but paid it no mind, though from the excellent elocution he could only assume it was not the stablehands. He himself was more occupied with running his gaze over his own mount, checking that she looked well and fit, bright of eye and glossy of coat, and soothing her whilst she was tacked. The groom was just finishing up when a gentleman in a practical but well tailored brown outfit appeared from one of the other boxes and approached. 

"Walter is doing a fine job." Carnarvon assured the other man. "She's just feeling uncertain in unfamiliar surroundings." He said, clearly knowing his horse, and stroked her jawline affectionately. She was a long-legged hunter type, elegant and swift, with long white socks and a star on her forehead. Dainty ears were highly mobile, twitching back and forth as the men talked. 

Dorner smiled over his shoulder as Blount spoke of appreciating an early morning ride. "Indeed. Nothing like it to get the blood flowing, before the more cerebral antics of the day. Are you going out this morning?" He enquired . 

[Charles Blount]

Blount was unable place Dorner by sight although they must have come across each other in the Lords at some time or another. That Carnarvon was a gentleman was not in doubt but perhaps he had been away for some time just as Blount had been during the Danby affair. To rectify this condition, he introduced himself.

“I do not think we have been formally introduced. I am Lord Mountjoy currently in the incarnation of Her Majesty’s Master of Horse. Pleased to make your acquaintance. Many mounts are skittish at all the strange smells and sounds of a strange place, like many of their owners, tend to settle in after some time.” He noted the horses fine lines with approval but did not attempt to touch the animal in deference to her unease. “I have been out earlier this morning but if no one else is chipper enough to desire an early ride I would not be averse to going out again. Are you recently arrived?”    

[Sobriety]

No doubt the two men had crossed paths in the Lords at some time, though Dormer had been very much present during the Danby affair, speaking against impeaching the man and particularly noting that, historically, those who spearheaded an impeachment tended to end up subject to the same themselves. Politics, it seemed, had karma. Likewise Dormer found Mountjoy's countenance familiar, though he struggled to put a name to the face. 

"The pleasure is mine Lord Mountjoy." The older man replied, recognising the name and executing a light bow since the Marquess had the greater precedence. "Charles Dormer, Earl of Carnarvon." He supplied in turn. "She'll be fine once I'd had a chance to run the twitches out of her." He assured the other man with a fond glance at his mare. A well exercised mount tended to be much calmer. "I'd be glad of a companion if you've time for a quick jaunt, but I wouldn't want to keep you if you have other engagements." Dormer said amiably.

As for their timing. "We arrived yesterday. Unfortunately we've had heavy rains along the coast the last few weeks and the roads up north are terrible." He explained. "I would normally travel the north coast road to Chester but we had to take the inland road to Llangollen," he said, pronouncing the Welsh place name with ease, if a little incongruously amongst his impeccable if slightly musical diction, "before we could reach Birmingham, and even that was no easy route. But at least the coach made it." He regaled, happy to complain to someone who would likely be sympathetic. "I was starting to fear we would need pack horses!" He finished with a grin. "Perhaps I should have come by boat..." he added thoughtfully, but then he would have needed to leave most if not all of his horses behind, and it was plain from the way that he stroked her nose that Dormer was fond of the chestnut mare. 

"Did you make the opening?" He asked in turn, thinking that Mountjoy surely hadn't had as far to come. Something about Oxford was tickling his memory. Estate? Or alma mater?

[Charles Blount]

The disclosure that he was speaking with the Earl of Carnarvon allowed Mountjoy to place the family if not the man. Connected to the Herberts and of some talent in oration, he had the potential to become a valuable ally in the House. “At you service Sir.” He replied returning the bow. “I am always willing to indulge in a ride whenever I am able.” He gestured at the groom to ready his mount. Roland might be confused with being re-saddled so quickly but once out would be happy for the additional exercise.

“The roads can be tedious and downright exasperating at times.” He sympathized. “I have not found myself in Wales in quite some time. “My pile is not far from Dorchester and even traveling on the main Post Road ofttimes the conditions can be abdominal so I can easily commiserate with your experience as I have found that, aside from the Ermin Way, the roads get progressively worse the farther North one goes.” Dormer’s inkling of Mountjoy’s origins was satisfied as he learned his estate was in Dorset but a connection to Oxford could not be discounted as the Marquis appeared to be younger than he so would not have been to school at the same time. It was also commonly known that Blount was closely associated to both junior and senior Heneage Finch who were both Oxfordmen.  

“I arrived with Their Majesties as Lady Mountjoy likewise has a position in the Queen’s Household and I also hold a post in Government so we travel with the Court quite a bit.” He caught himself. Technically he thought, Ursula no longer held her position in the Queen’s Household but the situation was complicated and not quite the appropriate subject to elaborate upon with a newly acquainted gentleman in the middle of a stable yard. “If you have not been to Windsor before you will find the grounds to be quite extensive and convivially situated for casual outings with the bridleways laid out to provide a pleasant and varied course for a ride. If your bent runs more to sport than social pleasantries there are some decent hunting areas in the far Great Park to offer diversion.” Dormer might recall from general gossip that Mountjoy had a reputation as a huntsman.

“Is it the christening of the new Prince that brings you to suffer the heavily sodden roads from Llangollen to Windsor and do you have plans to return swiftly to misty Gwynedd or stay and tarry for the London season?”    

[Sobriety]

"Excellent, you have my thanks." Dormer replied with a brief smile as Mountjoy agreed to join him for a ride. Such was always more pleasant in company and the King's Master of Horse seemed pleasant enough thus far. Walter led the chestnut mare out of her stall and into the yard and Dormer waited patiently whilst Blount's mount was readied.

"I envy you your comparative closeness." Carnarvon said in good humour. Blount would have had to travel about half the distance he had. "Though we are all at the mercy of the roads and the weather. The Lord's way of keeping us humble." He observed, smiling faintly as Blount mentioned the reliability of the Ermin Way. "Indeed. Thank God for the Romans." Now if only they'd come back and build a few more roads. "My little corner of Wales is picturesque and peaceful, but a dashed long way from anywhere." He acknowledged. "Which is well and good when one is comfortable with one's family, but not when one wishes to attend to one's courtly duties." Still, far from the more troubled south of Wales and indeed from the continent, it was at times an easy place to be. 

Still, that thought about Oxford remained. Dormer was certain he'd heard the name, perhaps in association with the Finches, and almost certainly from his own son, who though five years Blount's junior had matriculated from Merton College, Oxford. He doubted young Charles had known the man, but he'd likely known of him. 

As the King's Master of Horse, Lord Mountjoy was of course expected to be present where possible but with the man's revelation that his wife also served the Queen it became obvious that the Mountjoy's would not only have been here for the opening but likely travelled with the Royal retinue as well. "No doubt Their Majesty's appreciate your family's service." Dormer said mildly. The King needed his close, trusted retainers for court to function and it was clear that Dormer was talking to one now. A useful fellow to know. "I have come to honour our young Prince, but I will be continuing on to London afterwards." He replied in answer to Blount's question. "Dormer House needs an airing and I intend to send for my daughter Isabella before next season." His youngest child. My only child now. "Probably by boat." He added in dry acknowledgement of his own struggles with the roads.

As the horses were made ready Dormer swung into the saddle of his chestnut mare with grace and ease for a man of his gently advancing years. "I have been to Windsor before but not for some years." He admitted. He was middle aged, older than Blount, but although he'd been at Lords for the Danby affair he'd stuck to London proper. "I can chat or I can shoot." He commented on the subject of hunting over social pleasantries. "Indeed, I would not object to the latter if opportunity presents," it might prove a good distraction, "though for now I think a good, brisk run to shake the fidgets out." He decided, as his mare daintily side-stepped under him and Dormer checked her movement with an easy leg.

"Why don't you choose the route Mountjoy?" He invited. "I dare say you've more recent familiarity with the grounds than I." 

 

Edited September 15 by Sobriety

[Charles Blount]

They were able to converse for a few more moments about the weather, travelling and the conditions of the roads before a groom presented Mountjoy’s mount resaddled and ready to go. Mounting his horse with familiar fluidity he stated “I have kin along the Worchester Staffordshire border, which is closer than your lands, yet that still seems inconveniently distant for a casual visit. My old friend Lord Langland, whom I met when I was newly arrived to Court. It seems ages ago now. Had a seat east of the Gower, not that far from Cardiff so the distance was not that onerous.” He smiled and tried to add a little levity. “Yet when my people were along the borderland we were more concerned with keeping the Welsh out.” He hoped the troubles between the English and Welsh were sufficiently in the past that his attempt at humor would not be taken ill. “In fact that same Lord Langland gifted me with a barge that I sometimes find convenient to move about the City instead of on horseback. I had it brought up to view the race. As I shall be returning with their Majesties may I offer its use to you for your conveyance to Londontown? I can have your mount delivered to Dormer House.”

Charles sought to be courteous and obliging to personages of the Court not only because it was the polite thing to do but it was politically expedient. Carnarvon was likely to stay for the season and it was never too early to build a rapport with someone who had a seat in the Lords.

They made their way out of the stables and headed away from the castle as their horses warmed up. “Let us take that path to the right. It leads through a pleasing wood and a pretty little pond. As one would expect the trails in the park are well maintained and provide no obstacles to the horses. “You exhibit due paternal prudence in desiring your daughter to come to London. Despite the exertions and inconveniences of travel, and although I believe the country a fine place for younger children, exposure to London society is the finishing touch to a young Lady’s education as they are not able to experience the polishing a university provides to a young gentleman. My own time at Oxford was formative in matters well exceeding simple education.”  

As they were trotting along, they flushed a rabbit which briefly confused Blount’s mount which he quickly checked by a tug on the reins. Roland was more used to his master taking off in pursuit but settled quickly. Blount though if they had some dogs that could track the hare back to its den but alas they were riding not hunting.