98 THE WARWICKSHIRE HOUNDS. 



Lbaminqton. now defunct magazine, called The Sunbeam under the 

 date of 1838, and for which I am indebted to the kind- 

 ness of a correspondent. I ought to say, in introducing 

 it, that he suggests that for Radsley, the scene of the 

 meet, we should read Badsley which is a moated hall, 

 while the name of Radsley in this locality is unknown 

 to him. 



I introduce the article in its entirety, without, I 

 hope, any need of apology. 



Those who have travelled in Warwickshire will remember 

 the site of that beautiful watering place called Leamington, 

 and those who^have that tour still before them will find it 

 about two miles distant from the ancient and picturesque 

 city of Warwick, so famous for its baronial castle, which 

 throws its vast shadow across the Avon, and appears in 

 its stern and^warlike structure to bid defiance to time, as 

 its reflection but mocks the current of that classic river. 

 In the hunting season, the huge stone hotels of Leaming- 

 ton assume the character of vast hunting lodges. Early in 

 the morning the large quadrangular courtyards at Copp's 

 or the Regent, surrounded by solid stone stabling, having 

 loose boxes and all the requisite conveniences for hunters, 

 are alive with the movements of grooms and stable boys. 

 High bred silky hunters are next led forth, and light com- 

 pact servants, in suitable livery slowly depart with them 

 for the covert, riding some and leading others. 



At a later hour nimble valets are flying about the pas- 

 sages of the hotel, bearing on their arms buckskin breeches 

 and gloves, newly cleaned, top-boots, the tops white as 

 milk ; and polished spurs "folio win the hands of others, 

 and are carried within the various apartments. 



Seats at the breakfast table are gradually occupied by 

 fresh looking gentlemen, in loose morning gowns and 

 slippers, all attired for the hunt, excepting coats and boots, 

 who deliberately partake of cold pheasant or mincemeats, 

 dry toast and coffee, make a few quaint observations to 

 each other on the nature of the weather and its aptness for 

 the scent, and on rising some cast themselves into spacious 

 elbow-chairs by the cheerful hearth at each end of the 

 breakfast hall, while others disappear as quietly as they 

 entered. 



At ten o'clock the scene without becomes animated. 

 Covert hackneys are j led to the entrance, and gentlemen in 

 scarlet coats, bright coloured cravats, buckskin breeches 

 and gloves, top-boots, and having heavy, long-lashed 

 hunting whips are seen mounting and cantering 

 off to the field, while the bright eyes of 

 ladies look forth from casements, and now and 



