116 Ikings of tbe 1bunttna«'fielt) 



great friend to the tailors, and had frequently in his 

 wardrobes as many as 150 pairs of breeches and 

 trousers, with a proportionate number of coats and 

 waistcoats. In his cellars there were 'hogsheads of ale, 

 standing like soldiers in close column, and wine enough 

 in wood and bottle for a Roman Emperor.' He made 

 his own malt, and 'John Mytton, Licensed Malt- 

 ster,' was painted in large letters over the malthouse 

 door. How much he spent on post-horses it is impossible 

 to tell; but there was hardly a post-boy in England who 

 did not know ' Squire Mytton,' and lament his fall. He 

 never stayed at an inn without giving the waiter a 

 guinea, and he would never pay a tradesman's bill until he 

 had received a writ, an eccentricity for which the lawyers 

 had cause to bless him. 



But to come to John Mytton's career as a fox-hunter, 

 which is the raison d'etre of his appearing in these pages. 

 He commenced hunting the Shropshire and Shiffnal coun- 

 tries (now the Albrighton) five days a week, and con- 

 tinued to do so, solely at his own expense, for five 

 seasons. He appears to have been as eccentric in his 

 hunting arrangements as in everything else he under- 

 took, for he frequently had out horses not fit to run, and 

 allowed his packs to become such a queer mixture that 

 they might have been intended to hunt stag, fox, or hare, 

 or all three, for aught one could gather from their ap- 

 pearance. As a horseman, however, he had not many 

 equals, and could ride over a course as well as a country, 

 whilst, making allowances for the seemingly impracticable 

 fences he would ride at, he got but few falls. As a speci- 

 men of his reckless daring, I may mention that when 

 returning home one day with his friend * Nimrod,' he on 

 his horse Baronet, in cold blood, leaped a brook which 



