100 THE WARWICKSHIRE HOUNDS. 



Lkamixgton. and game. It abounds in old oaks and decayed trunks, 



which may formerly have afforded a green canopy to the 



bands of that merry freebooter, Robin Hood, and now fain 

 would protect themselves in their grey and withered age, 

 beneath a green mantle of youthful and vigorous ivy. 



The lane, carpetted with close thick turf, led a winding 

 course to an old-fashioned ivy-covered park entrance. An 

 undulating green park, with clumps of ancient trees, wa* 

 now before us, and a canter across it brought us in front 

 of the hall. The park was scattered over with gentlemen 

 in scarlet, mounted on gallant hunters, waiting the 

 coming of the hounds, which were shortly to be assembled 

 in front of the hall ; and by the border of the wood, which 

 afforded shelter from the keen air, neat grooms moved 

 to and fro with led horses, of deer-like shape and move- 

 ment, 



I was led by one of my companions to the drawbridge, 

 for the old hall was surrounded by a moat, and was intro- 

 duced to its possessor, who advanced upon the bridge, and 

 invited us to partake of a second dejeuner ^ an invitation 

 which curiosity, rather than appetite, led me cheerfully 

 to accept. The building was gray with age ; but like most 

 of such remnants of the feudal times, it had combined the 

 firmness of the fortress, and its aptness for defence, both 

 in turret and loopholes, with the conveniences of a family 

 residence, and not a stone had shrunk from its place, 

 although the lighter graces of its architecture had mould- 

 ered away. 



We passed along a stone-arched passage, hung here and 

 there with stag's heads and antlers, and emerged as from 

 a cavern into a lofty Gothic hall. From thence we entered 

 a wainscoated apartment of cedar, where a centre table 

 was spread out with cold viands, and graced by tall silver 

 coffee-pots of quaint, old-fashioned form. In one of the 

 ipacious window recesses a group of ladies looked out upon 

 the gay scene of the park, and one of the younger, I ob- 

 served, was equipped in a riding-habit for the field. 



Old-fashioned family portraits looked forth from the 

 dark cedar panellings in the costumes of successive ages, 

 one decided feature giving a general dominant character to 

 all alike, but exhibited in each under various modifications. 

 There hung the hearty old squire, who had once surveyed 

 these lands as his domain, his portrait now entailed with 

 the estate. The aspiring youth, to whose armed yet elastic 

 step, these halls had echoed as he departed for the wars, 

 and the blooming high-bred maiden, whose soft eye had 

 gazed from these casements over the velvet park, her mind 

 weaving some cobweb tissue of silver fancy, scarcely more 

 airy and evanescent than her own career. Upon the 

 latticed window was emblazoned in stained glass, the 

 family arms. On all sides, indeed, you beheld the insignia 



