Old and New London, A Narrative of its History, its People and its Places. Illustrated with Numerous Engravings from the Most Authentic Sources. vol 4

Thornbury, Walter

1872-78

Hyde Park.

Hyde Park.

 

The show shop of the metropolis, Hyde Park.--Pierce Egan.

 

Having travelled to the northern end of , and exhausted our store of information respecting the fashionable district which lies on our right hand, we must now retrace our steps as far as Apsley House and , and ask our readers to accompany us into that most famous of recreation-grounds, and chief of the

lungs of London,

which all the world, to this day, persists in calling

the Park,

as if we had no other park in our metropolis--no doubt because, in the Stuart times, and even later, it was the only park really open to the people at large. We shall find that, in spite of the absence of houses and mansions, and, therefore, of actual inhabitants, it is almost as rich in historical recollections as any other part of London.

In the days of the Roman occupation of England, as Mr. Larwood remarks, in his

History of the London Parks,

the site of the future

Hyde Park

lay in the far west, in the midst of virgin forests, which for more than

ten

centuries after continued to surround London to the north

and the west. Wild boars and bulls, wolves, deer, and smaller game, a few native hunters, swineherds, and charcoal-burners, were, in all probability, the only inhabitants of those vast wildernesses.

If May Fair had any other inhabitants at that time, it is probable that they were painted savages.

In remote ages the tract of land now enclosed as the Park was bounded on the north by the Via Trinobantina- of the great military roads--now identified with and the . On the east ran another , the old , which crossed the other at Tyburn, and sloped off to the south-east, in the direction of . On the west and south its limits were not equally well defined. Under the Saxon kings, it would appear that the Manor of Eia, of which it formed a part, belonged to the Master of the Horse; and Mr. Larwood most appropriately observes,

Could the shade of that old Saxon revisit the land which he held when in the flesh, no doubt he would be satisfied, for nowhere in the world could he now find finer horses and better riders than those we daily see in

Rotten Row

.

About the time of Domesday Book, the manor of Eia was divided into smaller manors, called, respectively, Neyte, Eabury, and Hyde. The latter still lives and flourishes as a royal park, under its ancient name, no doubt of Saxon origin. The manor of Neyte became the property of the Abbey of , as did also that of Hyde, which remained in the hands of the monks until seized upon by King Henry, at the time of the Reformation. Of the manor of Hyde we know that its woods afforded to the monks both fire-wood and shelter for their game and water-fowl; and there is extant a document, in which William Boston, the abbot, and the rest of the Convent of , with their entire assent, consent, and agreement, handed over to his Majesty

the seyte, soyle, circuyte, and precincte of the manor of Hyde, with all the demayne lands, tenements, rentes, meadowes, and pastures of the said manor, with all other profytes and commodities to the same appertayning and belonging, which be now in the tenure and occupation of

one

John Arnold.

Henry's main object in appropriating this estate,

observes Mr. Larwood,

seems to have been to extend his hunting-grounds to the north and west of London. As we have already seen, the king had previously purchased that plot of ground which afterwards became

St. James's Park

. Marylebone Park (now the

Regent's Park

and surrounding districts) formed already part of the royal domain; and thus the manor of Hyde, connected with these, gave him an uninterrupted huntingground, which extended from his palace of

Westminster

to Hampstead Heath. That some such idea existed in the royal mind appears from a proclamation, for the preservation of his game, issued in

July, 1536

, in which it is stated that,

As the King's most royal Majesty is desirous to have the games of hare, partridge, pheasant, and heron preserved, in and about the honour of his palace of Westminster, for his own disport and pastime, no person, on the pain of imprisonment of their bodies, and further punishment at his Majesty's will and pleasure, is to presume to hunt or hawk, from the palace of Westminster to St. Giles'-in-the- Fields, and from thence to Islington, to Our Lady of the Oak, to Highgate, to Hornsey Park, and to Hampstead Heath.

It was, probably, also about this period that the manor of Hyde was made into a park, that is, enclosed with a fence or paling, and thus became still better adapted for the rearing and preserving of game. And here it may be fit to observe, that its extent at that time, and for long after, was much greater than it is at present, reaching as far as

Park Lane

to the east, and almost up to the site of Kensington Palace to the west.

As soon as the church manor was thus turned into a royal park, it was a matter of course for the king to appoint a ranger. The who held the post was George Roper-perhaps of the same family with William Roper, the worthy husband of good Sir Thomas More's daughter. On his death, rangers or keepers were appointed, and a lodge assigned to each; the lived not far from what now is ; and the other near the centre of the park,

in a building

--if Mr. Larwood's surmise is correct-

afterwards known as the Banqueting House, or the Old Lodge, and which was pulled down at the formation of the Serpentine.

Queen Elizabeth gave of the rangerships to her friend and favourite, Nicholas, Lord Hunsdon, with the handsome salary of

fourpence a day, together with herbage, pannage, and browsage for the deer.

In Peck's

Desiderata Curiosa

is the following account, which may, perhaps, cause a smile, particularly if we notice that men are paid for the same office, the for holding it and the other for

exercising

it-in another word, for discharging its duties :--
 £s.d.
Hyde Park, annual fee of keeper2134
For exercising the said office12134
Keeper of Hyde Park668
For his necessaries and costs1734
Keeper of the ponds (there)1050
Keeper of St. James' Park618

, as in the time of Henry VIII.,

p.377

says the author above quoted,

was still used as a hunting-ground in the reigns of Edward VI., Queen Elizabeth, and King James.

In we find the boy-king, Edward VI., hunting in it with the French ambassadors. In , John Casimir, Count Palatine of the Rhine, Duke of Bavaria, and a general in the service of the Dutch, paid a visit to Queen Elizabeth, lodged in , and was by her Majesty made Knight of the Garter. Amongst the entertainments given to this princely visitor was that of hunting at , and shooting in , on which last occasion the old chroniclers relate that the duke

killed a barren doe with his piece from amongst

three hundred

other deer.

Again, an entry in the accounts of the Board of Works for the year contains a payment

for making of

two

new standings in Marybone and

Hyde Park

for the Queen's Majesty and the noblemen of France

[i.e.,

the Duke of Anjou, Elizabeth's intended husband, and his court] to see the hunting.

No doubt, these were the

princely standes

to which Norden alludes, in his mention of in , in his

Survey of Middlesex and Hertfordshire.

Perhaps the queen herself, at times, here followed the pursuit of her patroness Diana, for we know that her Majesty took pleasure in hunting. On such occasions the sport would conclude, according to the established law of the chase, by

one

of the huntsmen offering a hunting-knife to the queen, as the

first

lady of the field, and her

taking say

of the buck--

i.e.

, plunging the knife in its throat with her own fair and royal hand. Again, the pools in the Park must have been a favourite haunt of the heron (which Henry VIII. includes among the game to be preserved in the neighbourhood of his palace), and other water-fowl, and there the queen may have

cast her hawk

on summer afternoons. We can imagine her riding here on an

ambling palfrey

through the forest glades, accompanied by the fiery Essex, the courtly Burleigh, the manly Raleigh, or that arch plotter and scheming villain, Leicester, whose name ought to have been for ever connected with a certain spot north-east of the Park, where Tyburn gallows stood.

[extra_illustrations.4.377.1] [extra_illustrations.4.377.2] 

Before the end of Elizabeth's reign the rangership was given to Lord Hunsdon's son, Sir Edward Carey. He was a brother of the Countess of Nottingham, whose name is so well known to history in connection with the romantic episode of Lord Essex and the ring. In his time, some acres of land on the southern side, not far from , were added to the park, and fenced in with rails.

No cattle,

writes Mr. Larwood,

were allowed to enter this enclosure, as it was reserved for the deer to graze in; and the grass growing within it was to be mown for hay, on which to feed the deer in winter. The exact locality of these

forty

acres,

he adds,

is not stated; but it is not improbable that it was this very fence that was pulled down by the Londoners on their Lammas crusade in

1592

.

Mr. Larwood writes:

King James I., as everybody knows, was a

mighty hunter before the Lord.

Frequently, no doubt, the dryads and hamadryads of the Park must have witnessed his sacred Majesty in that famous costume which he wore when on his journey from Scotland to England to ascend the throne--

a doublet, green as the grass he stood on, with a feather in his cap and a horn by his side.

Then the clear echoes, nestling in the quiet nooks and corners of the ancient forest, were awakened by the merry blasts of the horn, the hallooing of the huntsmen cheering the dogs, and the

yearning

of the pack, as they followed the hart to

one

of the pools where it

took soil,

and was bravely dispatched by his Majesty. After that followed the noisy

quarry,

in which, of course,

Jowler

and

Jewel,

the king's favourite hounds, obtained the lion's share. When the hunt was over, his Majesty would probably adjourn to the Banqueting House, which stood in the middle of the Park, and refresh himself with a deep draught of sack or canary; and in the cool of the evening, as, returning home to

Whitehall

, the king crossed over

the way to Reading

(now

Piccadilly

), he might see, in the far blue distance, the little village of St. Giles' nestled among the trees, the square steeple of old

St. Paul's

, and the smoking chimneys of his good citizens of London, whilst the faint evening breeze wafted towards him the sweet silvery sound of Bow bells ringing the curfew.

The next keeper of whom we read, under James I., was Robert Cecil, Earl of Salisbury, with whom, years later, we find associated Sir Walter Cope, the same person who built the centre and the turrets of Holland House. During their joint keepership various improvements were made in the Park; grants of money were made for planting trees and repairing lodges, fences, palings, pond-heads, &c.; which show that it was then quite a rural park. In Sir Walter Cope resigned his rangership in favour of his son-in-law, Henry Rich, subsequently created Earl of Holland. This nobleman, it may be remarked, cut but a poor figure in history. In early life he was employed abroad to negotiate the marriage of Charles I. with Henrietta Maria; but after the outbreak of the Civil War he fought at time on the side of the Parliament, and then again for the King,

p.378

and being taken prisoner by the Roundheads, was executed.

In the year of Charles's reign a strange scene was witnessed in the Park. The young queen, Henrietta Maria, just wedded, went through it barefoot, and clad in sackcloth, to Tyburn gallows, an event of which we shall have to speak more fully in our account of Tyburnia.

In the reigns of our early Stuart kings there was in a large number of pools or ponds, all communicating with each other, and variously given as , , and . They were fed by a small stream, the West Bourne, which, rising on the western slope of Hampstead, passed through Kilburn and Bayswater, and then intersected the Park, which it quitted at on its way to join the Thames at and . These pools used to supply the western parts of London with water, until a complaint was made that they were drained so much that there was no water for the deer. This at least, was stoutly asserted by the keepers, and as stoutly denied by the citizens, who petitioned the king to allow the supply to continue. But Charles I. preferred the word of his keepers to the petition of his loyal and faithful subjects; he chose rather to see his subjects than his favourite deer lacking water, and so he rejected the petition--a step which much increased his unpopularity at the time.

During the early part of the Civil Wars in the time of Charles I., was largely used for exercising the

trained bands,

as the regular forces of the City were called. This body of men was enrolled-or, as the phrase went,

drawn forth in arms

--on the side of the monarch; yet, subsequently, the citizens supported the popular cause, and it was principally by their aid that the obtained its decided preponderancy. So early as , within months after Charles had set up his standard at Nottingham, the

trained bands

were marched
out to join the Earl of Essex, on the heath near Brentford,

where,

says Clarendon,

they had indeed a full army of horse and foot, fit to have decided the title of a crown with an equal adversary.

In the further progress of the war, several auxiliary regiments, both of foot and horse, were raised by the City; and to a part of these forces, joined to regiments of the

trained bands,

of whose inexperience of danger,

remarks the historian just quoted,

or any kind of service beyond the easy practice of their postures in the Artillery Garden, men had till then too cheap an estimation,

the Parliament army was indebted for its preservation in the battle of Newbury,

for they stood as a bulwark and rampire to defend the rest, and, when their wings of horse were scattered and dispersed, kept their ground so steadily,

that Prince Rupert himself, who charged them at the head of the choice royal horse,

could make no impression upon their stand of pikes, but was forced to wheel about.

The same historian designates London as

the devoted city

of the Commons, and their

inexhaustible magazine of men.

In

April, 1660

,

says Mr. Allen, in his

History of London,

about

six

weeks before the restoration of Charles II., and when the artful management of General Monk had disposed the citizens to countenance the measures he was pursuing in favour of royalty, a muster of the City forces was held in

Hyde Park

: the number of men then assembled amounted to about

18,600

-namely,

six

regiments of

trained bands,

six

auxiliary regiments, and

one

regiment of horse; the foot regiments were composed of

eighty

companies, of

two hundred and fifty

men each; and the regiments of cavalry of

six

troops, each of

one hundred

men. The assembling of this force was judged to have been highly instrumental to the success of the plan for restoring the monarchy. Within a few months afterwards the king granted a commission of lieutenancy for the City of London, which invested the

Hyde Park On Sunday. (From A Print Published In 1804)

commissioners with similar powers to those possessed by the lords-lieutenants of counties ; and by them the

trained bands

were new-modelled, and increased to

20,000

men; the cavalry was also increased to

800

, and divided into

two

regiments of

five

troops, with

eighty

men in each. The whole of this force was, in the same year, reviewed by the king in

Hyde Park

.

The Act of Parliament which ordered the sale of the Crown lands, after the execution of Charles I., excepted from its provisions, and it became the subject of a special resolution of the ,

That

Hyde Park

be sold for ready money.

The Park at that time contained about acres, and the sale realised The purchasers of the lots were Richard Wilson, John Lacey, and Anthony Deane.

As soon as the king was brought back to , very naturally again became what it had been before the Puritan episode-the rendezvous of fashion and pleasure. The sales of the Park to individuals, which we have mentioned, were treated as null and void; became again royal property, and was open to the public once more. The king appointed his brother, the Duke of Gloucester, to the office of keeper; he, however, held it only months, and after his death it was granted to James Hamilton, of the Grooms of the Bedchamber, whose name, as we have already seen, survives in . This place, and other houses about , had been erected during the Protectorate by the then proprietors, and it is uncertain what compensation or tenant-right they obtained for the outlay. Mr. Hamilton was killed in battle, in ; and as Charles II. had thrown open to the public, and it was rightly judged that Ranger could superintend both parks, it is scarcely a matter of surprise to find that his successor, Mr. Harbord, an ancestor of Lord Suffield, was styled Ranger of , the latter taking precedence, as being not only royal property, but the residence of the merry king and his court. It was by Mr. Hamilton's advice that the Park was enclosed with a brick wall, and re-stocked with deer, the enclosure of the herd being on Buckdean Hill, on the side farthest from the City, and, therefore, the most quiet and retired. This wall stood till the reign of George II., when it was replaced by a more substantial , feet and a half high on the inside, and feet high on the outside. A horse belonging to a Mr. Bingham leaped this wall in ; this feat, it appears, was done for a wager. The wall was removed in the time of George IV., and an iron railing was substituted. Colonel Hamilton also made a speculation in the growth of apples for cider on an enclosure at the north-west corner, but with what result we are not informed.

But to return to the time of Charles II. The Park was then open ground, with the exception of such fences as were put up for the purposes of pasturage; but in the Surveyor-General observes in a report that

the king was very earnest with him for walling

Hyde Park

, as well for the honour of his palace and great city as for his own disport and recreation.

years after, a portion of it was so well fenced in as to be replenished with deer. In , a large fort, with bastions, had been erected at , and another to the south, called Oliver's Mount, the memory of which remains in . This latter work was erected by popular enthusiasm, the ladies of rank not only encouraging the men, but, as we have had occasion to remark in a previous chapter, carrying the materials with their own hands. In a note by Nash to the canto of the part of

Hudibras,

Lady Middlesex, Lady Foster, Lady Anne Waller, and others, are celebrated for their patriotic exertions as serious volunteers in this emergency. Since that period, the military performances in have been of a mimetic character.

In Evelyn's

Diary,

under date the , we read :--

I went to take the aire in Hide Park, when every coach was made to pay a shilling, and horse sixpence, by the sordid fellow who had purchased it of the State, as they were called.

And in the

Character of England in a Letter to a Nobleman in France,

published in the year , it is described as

a field near the town, which they call Hide Park; the place is not unpleasant, and which they use as our course, but with nothing of that order, equipage, and splendour; being such an assembly of wretched jades and hackney-coaches as, next a regiment of carrmen, there is nothing approaches the resemblance.

The writer adds that

the Parke was used by the late king and nobility for the freshness of air, and the goodly prospect, but it is that which now (besides all other exercises) they pay for hire in England, though it be free for all the world besides; every coach and horse which enters buying his mouthful, and permission of the publican who has purchased it, for which the entrance is guarded with porters and long staves.

It was, therefore, the Restoration which gave the people the free entrance to the Park, but with the entire reservation of the

p.381

royal rights, as shown in several ways; not the least curious being the obligation of Mr. Hamilton, the Ranger, to deliver to the Lord Steward, or to the Treasurer of the Household,

one

-half of the pippins or red streaks, either in apples or cider, as his Majesty may prefer, the produce of the trees le is authorised to plant in

fifty-five

acres of the north-west corner of the Park, on the

Uxbridge Road

.

Pepys'

Diary

is invaluable for the minuteness with which he describes London life during the years of the reign of Charles II., and from him we learn much incidentally about the Park and its frequenters.

Gaiety, jollity, and merry life,

it has been well observed,

beam through his pages, which rustle with silk and velvet, and sparkle with gold lace and jewellery.

A crowd of gay dissolute people still move through them with the same restless flutter which animated them when in the flesh, years ago and more. By his help we get peep after peep into that bygone world, and obtain a full view of the manners, fashions, and pleasures of those past generations; and we cannot do better than follow him whenever he shows his merry face in the Park. Early in , within a few days after the Restoration, Pepys hears from friends that the royal Dukes of York and Gloucester

do haunt the Park much;

but he has not as yet seen them there with his own eyes. It is not until the of the month that the little Clerk of the Admiralty has had the happiness of seeing his Majesty there face to face, a sight which, he tells us, was

gallantly great.

Again, on the , Pepys records his sight of the king's presence there, to which Evelyn adds,

and abundance of gallantry.

Both Evelyn and Pepys, in their

Diaries,

bear frequent witness to the gay appearance which the Park presented after the Restoration, especially on May Day. The former tells us that on the , he went to the Park to take the air, and that

there was his Majesty and an innumerable appearance of gallants and rich coaches, being now a time of universal festivity and joy.

Our friend Pepys, however, was not a spectator of these gay doings in the Park, he having been ordered away, on his official duties to Portsmouth; much to his personal regret, as he does not forget to tell us.

When Pepys and Evelyn speak thus of the Park, they must not be understood to mean its whole circumference, but simply an inner circle in the centre of its northern half, generally known as

the Ring,

round which it was the fashion to ride and drive. It was on account of this circular movement that Lady Malapert, in the old comedy of , calls the

Ring

a

dusty mill-horse drive.

Sometimes this

Ring

was called

the Tour

; and in this sense Pepys uses the word. Thus we have the following entry in his

Diary,

under date of the :--

Took up my wife and Deb, and to the Park, where being in a hackney (coach), and they undressed, was ashamed to go into the Tour, but went round the Park, and so with pleasure home.

In the above reign, it seems, horse and footraces were of frequent occurrence here. Evelyn, under date , even tells us that he

went to see a coach-race in Hide Park;

and Pepys, in his

Diary,

, records how that he went

with Mr. Moor and Creed to

Hyde Park

, by coach, and saw a fine foot-race

three

times round the Park, between an Irishman and Crow, that was once my Lord Claypole's footman.

This was followed by a horse-race, and in the interval which occurred between the performances a milk-maid went about, crying

Milk of a red cow!

which the humbler spectators partook of--the

quality

meanwhile sipping

sillabub with sack in it.

The ladies, we are further told, wagered scarlet stockings and Spanish scented gloves on their favourite studs.

Hyde Park

,

says Pennant,

was celebrated by all our dramatic poets in the late century, and in the early part of the present (

18th

), for its large space railed off in form of a circle, round which the

beau monde

drove in their carriages, and in their rotation, exchanging, as they passed, smiles and nods, compliments or smart repartees.

This large space was also, very suitably, the place in which coaches were displayed when introduced by persons of fashion and

quality.

Taylor, the water-poet, tells us that William Boonen, a Dutchman, was the who introduced the use of such vehicles into England. The said Boonen was Queen Elizabeth's coachman, and the date of their appearance in London may be fixed at about . Taylor quaintly observes,

Indeed, a coach was a strange monster in those days, and the sight of them put horse and man into amazement.

The introduction of

glass-coaches

is fixed by the

Ultimum Vale of John Carleton,

published in .

I could wish her coach, which she said my Lord Taffe bought for her in England and sent it over to her, made of the new fashion, with glasses, very stately.

The railed-off space above mentioned was called the

Ring,

and is often spoken of by the poets of

p.382

the eighteenth century as the central resort of fashion. It was probably on his way hither that Cromwell once had a most narrow escape from sudden death. He was, as the story has been often told, driving his own coach in the Park; his horses ran away and were uncontrollable; the stern Protector, much to the delight of any Royalist who might have been present on the occasion, was thrown off the coach-box, and fell upon the pole between the wheelers, and his feet becoming entangled in the harness, he was dragged along for a considerable distance. He does not, however, appear to have suffered much beyond the necessary fright and a few bruises. On this accident the following lines were written by the old rhyming cavalier, Cleveland:--

The whip again! away! 'tis too absurd

That thou shouldst lash with whip-cord now, but sword.

I'm pleased to fancy how the glad compact

Of hackney-coachmen sneer at the last act.

Hark how the scoffing concourse hence derives

The proverb, Needs must go when the devil drives.

He turned us out to put himself i' the place;

But, God-a-mercy, horses once for aye

Stood to 't, and turn'd him out as well as we.

Another, not behind with his mocks,

Cries out, Sir, faith you were in the wrong box.

He did presume to rule because, forsooth,

He's been a horse commander from his youth:

But he must know there's a difference in the reins

Of horses fed with oats and fed with grains.

I wonder at his frolic, for be sure

Four hamper'd coach-horses can fling a brewer;

But Pride will have a fall, such the world's course is,

He who can rule three realms can't guide four horses;

See him that trampled thousands in their gore,

Dismounted by a party but of four.

But we have done with't, and we may call

This driving Jehu, Phaeton in his fall.

I would to God, for these three kingdoms' sake,

His neck, and not the whip, had given the crack.

It would be interesting, as Mr. Thomas Miller remarks, in his

Picturesque Sketches of London,

to know whether the Lord Protector remembered the uncomplimentary wish contained in the last couplet when the old royalist afterwards had to petition Cromwell for his release from Yarmouth Gaol. If he remembered it, and yet released the writer, he must have had, at all events, a forgiving disposition. Cromwell's fall from his coach-box is likewise commemorated in of the poems of Sir John Birkenhead, entitled

The Jolt.

Cromwell had received from the German Count of Oldenburg a present of German horses, which he attempted to drive, with his own hands, in , when

the political Phaethon

met with the accident above mentioned. Sir John Birkenhead was not slow to perceive the benefit of such an event, and more than hints how unfortunate for the country it was that the fall was not a fatal . During the dominion of Cromwell, Sir John was forced to

live by his wits,

which meant nearly to starve. On the Restoration, he was made of the Masters of Requests, with a handsome salary.

But to pass on to the Restoration and the times of Charles II.

Hardly,

writes Mr. Larwood,

were the members of the royal family safely lodged in the palaces of Whitehall and St. James's, when they commenced their round of amusements, Hyde Park forming part of the programme. Both Charles and his brother James were of active habits, fond of open air and exercise; both also found a still more powerful attraction in the Park, for it was the gathering place of all those matchless beauties which still live on the canvas of Lely and Kneller. All Grammont's equivocal heroines, and all their more virtuous and not less beautiful sisters, were daily there, fluttering in the sunshine, and dazzling alike both king and subjects. There were Lady Castlemaine, la belle Hamilton, la belle Stewart, and la belle Jennings, the Countesses of Chesterfield and Southesk, Lady Denham and Mrs. Lawson, Mrs. Middleton, Mrs. Bagot, Miss Price--in a word, that entire galaxy of ladies whose beauty, as Pope says, was an excuse for the gallantries of Charles, and an apology for his Asiatic court. These, in fact, were Those days of ease, when now the weary sword Was sheath'd, and luxury with Charles restor'd, In every taste of foreign courts improv'd, All by the king's example lived and lov'd.

There still remained some of the picturesque elegance of the Spanish costume which had been in vogue in the reign of Charles I., though it was gradually spoiled more and more by an invasion of exaggerated French fashions. But there was one great and charming novelty, the new riding garbthe Amazone, as it was called--the nondescript attire from which the present habit is descended. Till then ladies had worn the usual walking-dress on horseback; it was left for the beautiful flirts of Charles's reign to introduce the habit. It was this novelty which puzzled good Pepys so much, when he, for the first time, saw the ladies with coats and doublets with deep skirts, just for all the world like men, and their doublets but. toned up the breasts, with periwigs and with hats, so that, only for a long petticoat dragging under their men's coats, nobody would take them for women in any point whatever.

The following description of is from

p.383

the Memoirs of Count Grammont in the reign of Charles II. :--

Hyde Park

, every

one

knows, is the promenade of London: nothing was so much in fashion, during the fine weather, as that promenade, which was the rendezvous of magnificence and beauty: every

one

, therefore, who had either sparkling eyes, or a splendid equipage, constantly repaired thither, and the king [Charles II.] seemed pleased with the place.

[extra_illustrations.4.383.1] [extra_illustrations.4.383.2] [extra_illustrations.4.383.3] 

Our portrait of the

London dandy

(page ) of the middle of the century, the greater part of whose time probably was spent in the Park, shows the exact dress of the fashionable young men of the time; the long locks of hair, hanging down from the temples on either side the face, with tasty bows of ribbon tied at the ends, were called by the ladies

love-locks;

and Prynne, in his zeal, thought this so prominent a folly that he wrote a quarto volume to prove

The Unloveliness of Love-locks.

Prynne, however, himself did not kill the fashion, which died a natural death at the end of the reign of Charles I. The stars and halfmoons seen on the young man's face are ornamental patches of dark sticking plaster, a mode of embellishment which is in favour with the ladies occasionally, even in the reign of Victoria, as serving to show off a fair white skin. Among the absurdities of the age to which our illustration refers, it would be difficult to find more ridiculous than that of gentlemen who are not riders wearing spurs on their boots, as part of their walking dress. The spur forms a conspicuous object in the dress of the dandy of ; and we learn that it was considered the very height of fashion to have the spurs made so as to rattle or jingle as the wearer walked along, like Apollo, with his rattling arrows, in the book of Homer's

Iliad.

The

dandies

of that period, however, did not have it all their own way, or assert an entire monopoly to the Park, as a place intended only for promenading and flirtations, for we read that during the plague of August and , a large number of the poorer inhabitants of London, who could not escape into the country, brought thither their household goods, and setting up tents, formed in the Park a sort of camp, which is described to the life in a ballad or broadside of the day, preserved in a volume of London songs in the . But in spite of all these precautions for safety, the plague pursued them thither, and those who died were buried as quickly as possible upon the spot :

We pitch'd our tents on ridges and in furrows,

And there encamped, fearing th' Almighty's arrows.

But oh! alas! what did this all avail?

Our men, ere long, began to droop and quail.

Our lodgings cold, and some not us'd thereto,

Fell sick and dy'd, and made no more adoe.

At length the plague amongst us 'gan to spread,

When every morning some were found stark dead.

Down to another field the sick were ta'en,

But few went down that ere came up again.

But that which most of all did grieve my soul,

To see poor Christians dragg'd into a hole.

It must have been with great satisfaction that the poor creatures thus encamped in learned that, by the end of October, the plague had disappeared, and that they were able to return to their homes in London.

The gay circle of

the Ring

being shorn of its old frequenters, in the year of the great plague, no doubt the grass grew where the horsemen and carriages had stirred the dust as often as spring and summer came round. During part of that fatal and fearful summer, however, a regiment of the Guards was quartered in the Park, under the command of Monk, Duke of Albemarle, who, like Lord Craven, refused wholly to quit the doomed city. years later, on Day, the Merry Monarch and the Knights of the Garter, we are told by Mr. Larwood, had the

ridiculous humour

of keeping on their robes all the day, and in the evening made their appearance in

the Ring,

still wearing their insignia-cloaks, coronets, and all. The Duke of Monmouth and another noble lord indulged even in a further freak, for thus apparelled they drove about the Park in a hackney coach.

On the re-appearance of the company in the Park, after the plague and the

great fire,

we soon come again across the lively figure of Pepys, who, on the , writes :--

To the Park, where much fine company and many fine ladies; and in so handsome a hackney I was that I believe Sir W. Coventry and others who looked on me did take me to be in

one

of my own, which I was a little troubled for; so to the Lodge and drank a cup of new milk, and so home.

In the reign of Charles II. the Lodge here spoken of by Pepys stood in the middle of the Park, and was used for the sale of refreshments; it was sometimes called Price's Lodge, from the name of Gervase Price, the chief under-keeper.

Like everything connected with the Park,

writes Mr. Larwood,

it is frequently mentioned by the dramatists of that reign. For instance, in Howard's English Monsieur (1674) :--Nay, 'tis no London female; she's a thing that never saw a cheesecake, a tart, or a syllabub at the Lodge in Hyde Park. In Queen Anne's time it was more generally called the Cake House, or Mince-pie Fleet on Serpentine Destruction of mock fleet Royal Naumachia House; and, according to the fashion which still continued to prevail, the beaux and belles used to go there to refresh themselves. The dainties which might be obtained there in the reign of George II. are thus enumerated in a little descriptive poem of the period : Some petty collation Of cheesecakes, and custards, and pigeon-pie puff, With bottle-ale, cider, and such sort of stuff. The Lodge was a timber and plaster building, and was taken down in the early part of the present century.

As far back as the reign of Elizabeth we find that cheesecakes were to be had at a house near the Serpentine, while branch establishments existed at Hackney and Holloway for the retail of these dainties, and, from the northern heights, persons were employed to cry them in the streets.

Our friend Pepys, in his

Diary,

under date , describes a visit, with his wife and some friends, to the Park, where, doubtless, they ate cheesecakes before going thence to the

World's End

,

a noted drinking-house, which we shall have occasion to mention hereafter, when we reach the neighbourhood of . The
worthy diarist was a frequent stroller in the Park, and his pages, therefore, contain numerous indications of the doings of the fashionable world in his time; he not only brings before us, in brilliant colours, some of the most famous beauties and court gallants, but also gives us an account of the gentle flirtations of the king himself and his more favoured dames.

Mr. Harrison Ainsworth is but recording the actual state of things in the reign of Queen Anne, when he writes, in his historical romance of

St. James's:

--

Well may we be proud of

Hyde Park

, for no capital but our own can boast aught like it. The sylvan and sequestered character of the scene was wholly undisturbed, and, but for the actual knowledge of the fact, no

one

would have dreamed that the metropolis was within a mile's distance. Screened by the trees, the mighty city was completely hidden from view, while, on the

Kensington road

, visible through the glade which looked towards the south-west, not a house was to be seen. To add to the secluded character of the place, a herd of noble red deer were couching beneath an oak, that crowned a gentle acclivity on the right, and a flock of rooks were cawing loudly

Old Tree--Drawing and Proof

on the summits of the high trees near Kensington Gardens.

As far back as the year , the author of the

Critical Review,

chalking out a plan of London improvements, pointed to as

a place possessed of every beauty and convenience which might be required in the situation of the royal palace of the British king.

In , a Mr. John Gwynne proposed to build in the Park a palace with a circuit round it of mile in circumference. In , a correspondent of the , writing under the of

Possible,

enumerates several large buildings which he considered ought to be erected in London;

amongst them,

he observes,

a palace in

Hyde Park

is also much wanted.

Towards the end of the last century, the subject was again broached by Sir John Soane,

who,

writes Mr. Larwood,

in the gay morning of youthful fancy, full of the wonders he had seen in Italy, and inspired by the wild imagination of an enthusiastic mind, proposed, without regard to expense or limit, to erect a royal habitation in the Park. It was to consist of a palace, with a series of magnificent mansions, the sale of which was calculated to defray the entire

The Cake-House, Hyde Park. (From A Drawing In Mr. Crace's Collection.)

cost of the erection. The whole of the building was to extend from

Knightsbridge

to Bayswater, and to be relieved by occasional breaks. This design was much approved by the notorious Lord Camelford, who was then at Rome, where he saw Soane's drawings, and who became a warm friend and patron of the young architect when subsequently he settled in London.

Mr. Larwood also gives a map of , about the year or . It shows the turnpike and gallows at Tyburn, and a double row of walnut-trees, with a wide gravel-walk between, runs from north to south, parallel to the . In the centre of this avenue is a circular reservoir, belonging to the , and from which not only Kensington Palace and the suburb were supplied, but also

the new buildings about Oliver's Mount

(now )

and the northern parts of

Westminster

.

Mr. Larwood tells us that the machinery used for forcing the supply was at that time so primitive, that the water had to be conveyed to the houses on the high ground near by means of a mill turned by horses. It may interest our readers to learn that this avenue was standing till about the

p.386

year , when most of the trees, being much decayed, and in danger of being blown down whenever the wind was high, were cut down, their wood being destined to make stocks for the muskets of our infantry. In this map the

Ring

is marked with a large circle, apparently about yards to the north of the east end of the Serpentine. Round the

Ring

stands a square of large trees, a few of which may, perhaps, still be standing. There is a small brook, which runs into the Serpentine, near the present boat-house, from the neighbourhood of the ; and small ponds of water are marked towards the southeast corner- nearly where the statue of Achilles now stands, and the other nearer to the rear of Apsley House. The map shows also the roads running parallel to the Serpentine on the south, marked respectively as

The King's Old Road, or Lamp Road,

and

The King's

New Road

;

the former corresponding nearly with the of our time, and the latter running, as now, inside the to the Road and . On the north of the Serpentine there is, apparently, no regular road, except for about a yards from the eastern end, where it bends to the north, away from the water, towards the

Ring.

The cutting down of trees needlessly, in the neighbourhood of London, is a sin. Evelyn, in his

Book of Forest Trees,

as Dr. Johnson more than once reminds us in his

Letters,

tells us of wicked men who cut down trees, and never prospered afterwards. It is to be hoped that a like fate awaited those persons who caused the destruction of the walnut-tree avenue mentioned in the preceding paragraph.

The

Ring,

of which we have already spoken, was a place of fashionable resort down to the reign of George II., when it was partly destroyed in the formation of the . It is often alluded to in old plays and novels, and is described by a French traveller, in , as being

two

or

three hundred

paces in diameter, with a sorry kind of balustrade, or rather with poles placed upon stakes, but

three

feet from the ground, and the coaches drive round this. When they have turned for some time round

one

way, they face about and turn t'other. So rolls the world.

Another foreigner, who lived in England at the end of the century, in speaking of the

Ring,

says:

They take their rides in a coach in an open field where there is a circle, not very large, enclosed by rails. There the coaches drive slowly round, some in

one

direction, others the opposite way, which, seen from a distance, produces a rather pretty effect, and proves clearly that they only come there in order to see and to be seen. Hence it follows that this promenade, even in the midst of summer, is deserted the moment night begins to fall, that is to say, just at the time when there would be some real pleasure in enjoying the fresh air. Then everybody retires, because the principal attraction of the place is gone.

Pepys, in his

Diary,

under date of , writes how that he

saw the king in

one

coach and Lady Castlemaine in another, in the Ring in

Hyde Park

, they greeting

one

another at every turn.

The origin of this

Ring

is unknown; Mr. Larwood suggests that

it may have been a remnant of the garden attached to the Banqueting House, or it may simply have been made by the

two

speculating citizens who hired the ground from Anthony Dean, Esq., and levied toll on the gates.

Remnants of it were still traceable at the beginning of this century, on the high ground directly behind the farm-house. A few very old trees are even now to be found on that spot. Some of these are indeed ancient enough to have formed part of the identical trees round which the wits and beauties drove in their carriages, and, as Pennant says,

in their rotation exchanged, as they passed, smiles and nods, compliments or smart repartees.

Plain as it was, it must have been a pleasant spot on a summer's afternoon. Situated on an upland space of ground, may imagine the pleasurable prospect from hence when all around was open country, and nothing intercepted the view from the Surrey hills to the high grounds of Hampstead and Highgate. can easily imagine how delightful it must have been for the ladies who

came in their carriages from the hot play-house and the close confined streets of the City, to be fanned by soft winds which blew over broad acres of ripening corn, flowering clover, and newly-mown hay, or rustled through the reeds and willows on the banks of the pools.

Walker, in

The Original,

in , speaks of the

Ring

as being still traceable round a clump of trees near the foot-barracks, and inclosing an area of about yards in diameter, and about yards wide.

Here,

he adds,

used to assemble all the fashion of the day, now diffused round the whole park, besides what is taken off by the

Regent's Park

.

In the merry days of our later Stuart sovereigns

p.387

no equipage in the

Ring

was thought complete unless drawn by grey Flanders mares, and the owner's coat-of-arms emblazoned conspicuously on the panels. Thus we read in

The Circus, or the British Olympus,

professedly a satire on the

Ring

--

Manlius through all the city doth proclaim

His arms, his equipage, and ancient name;

For search the Court of Honour, and you'll see

Manlius his name, but not his pedigree.

What then? This is the practice of the town;

For, should no man bear arms but what's his own,

Hundreds that make the Ring would carry none;

And that would spoil the beauty of the place.

Mr. Larwood, who quotes these lines, adds his own opinion that the,

Manlius

here intended was none other than

Beau Fielding,

who pretended to be a cadet of the noble house of the Earl of Denbigh, which is sprung, as every reader of the

Peerage

knows, from the Hapsburgs, cousins to the ancient Emperors of Germany. He gives the following version of the story to which allusion is made in the above verses:--

On the strength of his name he ventured to have the arms of Lord Denbigh painted on his coach, and to drive round the

Ring,

as proud as the jackdaw with the purloined peacock's feathers. At the sight of the immaculate coat-of-arms on the plebeian chariot all the blood of all the Hapsburgs flew to the head of Basil,

fourth

Earl of Denbigh; in a high state of wrath and fury he at once procured a housepainter and ordered him to daub the coat-of-arms completely over, and before all the company in the

Ring.

The beau seems to have thought with Falstaff that

the better part of valour is discretion;

and as the insult had not been offered to his own arms, he judged it wise to bear it rather than to resent it.

From this same satire we may glean a few other illustrations of the way in which the frequenters of the Park, towards the end of the century, conducted themselves. For instance, it appears that the beaux bought fruit in the Park:, and there, as in the theatres, amused themselves with breaking coarse jests with the orange and nosegay-women, and other female hawkers. Thus we read in the same poem:

With bouncing Bell a luscious chat they hold,

Squabble with Moll, or Orange Betty scold.

The same practice is also alluded to in another satire, Mrs. Manley's

New Atlantis,

where a Mrs. Hammond is represented buying a basket of cherries and receiving a from the

orangewench.

Again, in Southerne's play of the (), Lady Malapert says,

There are a

thousand

innocent diversions more wholesome and diverting than always the dusty millhorse driving in

Hyde Park

.

But her airy husband is of a different opinion:

O law!

says he,

don't prophane

Hyde Park

: is there anything so pleasant as to go there alone and find fault with the company? Why, there can't a horse or a livery 'scape a man that has a mind to be witty; and then, I sell bargains to [i. e.

chaff

] the orange-women.

It was with such refined amusements, such a delicate way of displaying their wit, that the beaux of that period, like Sir Harry Wildair, acquired the reputation of being

the joy of the play-house, the life of the Park.

During the reign of Queen Anne, the

Ring

held its place as the resort of all the fashion and nobility, even in winter.

No frost, snow, or east wind,

writes the , in ,

can hinder a large set of people from going to the Park in February, no dust nor heat in June. And this is come to such an intrepid regularity, that those agreeable creatures that would shriek at a hind-wheel in a deep gutter, are not afraid in their proper sphere of the disorder and danger of

seven

crowded Rings.

In the , and in the plays of the period, there are constant allusions to the brilliant crowds who frequented the

Ring,

around which a full tide of gaudily dressed ladies were whirled day by day. As Mr. Larwood happily remarks:--

It was an endless stream of stout coachmen driving ponderous gilt chariots lined with scarlet, drawn by

six

heavy Flanders mares; and running footmen trotting in front, graced with conical caps, long silver-headed canes, and quaintly cut silk jackets loaded with gold lace, tassels, and spangles. In those coaches appeared all the beauty and elegance of the kingdom, outvieing each other in splendour and extravagance; for daughters of Eve were scarce who thought, like Lady Mary Wortley Montagu, that

All the fine equipages that shine in the Ring never gave me another thought than either pity or contempt for the owners that could place happiness in attracting the eyes of strangers.

It was in the

Ring

that a curious incident occurred in the life of Wycherley, which Pope related to Spence.

Wycherley was a very handsome man. His acquaintance with the famous Duchess of Cleveland commenced oddly enough.

One

day as he passed that duchess's coach in the

Ring,

she leaned out of the window, and cried out loud enough to be heard distinctly by him,

Sir, you're a rascal; you're a villain.

Wycherley from that instant entertained hopes. He did not fail waiting on her the next morning; and, with a very melancholy tone, begged to know how it was possible for him to have so much disobliged her

grace. They were very good friends from that time.

In the days of George II., the machinery used for watering the fashionable drive in was very primitive indeed.

On account of the numerous coaches which drive round in a small circle,

observes a German writer, Z. Conrad von Uffenbach, in his

Remarkable Journey through Europe,

we are greatly troubled by the excessive dust. When the heat and dust are very great, however, a man drives round with a barrel of water in a cart; and the tap is taken out of the barrel, so that as he goes on the water runs out into the road, and moistens it, and so lays the dust.

From the time of Cromwell down to the present day the history of is little more than a record of events, of which from time to time it has been the scene-[extra_illustrations.4.388.1] , encampments, duels, highway robberies, and executions. For a full catalogue of these matters, equally minute and monotonous, we must be content to refer our readers to the pages of Mr. Jacob Larwood's

Story of the London Parks.

It will be enough for our purpose to enumerate here a few of the principal occurrences.

The earliest occasion on which the Park was used for a review, so far as we can learn, was in , when the Ranger, Lord Hunsdon, caused Elizabeth's pensioners to muster before the Virgin Queen, his men all

well appointed in armour, on horseback, and arrayed in green cloth and white,

the Tudor livery, as may be learnt from sundry pictures in the galleries at Windsor Castle and Palace.

Commencing then with the year of the reign of Charles II., Stow tells us how, only a few months after his accession, the king here reviewed his

trained bands,

strong and upwards, in the presence of

divers persons of quality, and innumerable other spectators,

and how in the following March () the Park witnessed a muster of archers shooting with the long bow. This exercise had always been a favourite with the English people; and a writer named Wood, in his

Bowman's Glory,

especially mentions the fact, that so great was the delight, and so pleasing the exercise, that regiments of foot soldiery laid down their arms to come and see it.

Again in , Charles reviewed here his troops, including the handsome Life Guards, whom he had formed in Holland. Their array was picturesque, and their gallant appearance pleased the people, who were sick of the dull Puritanical troopers. The thus describes the scene:

It was a glorious sight, and, with reverence be it spoken, worthy those royal spectators who came purposely to behold it; for his sacred Majesty, the Queen, the Queen-mother, the Duke and Duchess of York, with many of the nobility, were all present. The horse and foot were in such excellent order that it is not easy to imagine anything so exact; which is the more creditable if you consider that there were not a few of that great body who had formerly been commanders, and so more fit to be guard of the person of the most excellent king in the world.

Again, in , we read in Pepys'

Diary

of another grand review of the Guards in the Park, the troops, horse and foot, being ; but the diarist, in the honesty of his heart, speaks rather doubtfully of their real value as troops. In there was a similar display, in order to do honour to the Duke of Monmouth, who had been appointed Colonel of the Life Guards. Pepys was present on this occasion too, and gives us a picture of the duke in

mighty rich clothes;

but he saw no reason to change his former opinion of the men, though he owned, that he

indeed thought it mighty noble.

In , there was another review of the Guards in the Park, in the presence of Charles, and of the ambassadors of the Sultan of Morocco.

The soldiers,

says Mr. Larwood,

were gallantly, and the officers magnificently accoutred. After they had gone through their various exercises, to the great admiration of the ambassadors, the Moorish followers of their Excellencies would show what they could do; and though their performances were very different from the military exercises of Western nations, they proved themselves good and active horsemen. Whilst riding at full speed, with their lances they took off a ring, hung up for the purpose, and performed various other surprising feats.

An encampment, it would appear from of Pope's letters, was formed in about the year . At all events, he writes from the Westend to a lady friend, probably Martha Blount:--

You may soon have your wish to enjoy the gallant sights of armies, encampments, standards waving over your brother's corn-fields, and the pretty windings of the Thames stained with the blood of men. The female eyes will be infinitely delighted with the camp which is speedily to be formed in

Hyde Park

. The tents are carried there this morning, new regiments, with new cloaths and furniture, far exceeding the late cloth and linen designed by his Grace (the Duke of Marlborough) for the soldiery. The sight of so many gallant

fellows, with all the pomp and glare of war yet undeformed by battles, those scenes which England has for many years beheld only on stages, may possibly invite your curiosity to this place.

[extra_illustrations.4.389.1] 

In another letter to the Hon. Robert Digby, he thus describes the effect produced by the encampment on West-end society :--

The objects that attract this part of the world are quite of a different nature. Women of quality are all turned followers of the camp in

Hyde Park

this year, whither all the town resort to magnificent entertainments given by the officers, &c. The Scythian ladies that dwelt in the waggons of war were not more closely attached to the baggage. The matrons, like those of Sparta, attend their sons to the field, to be the witnesses of their glorious deeds; and the maidens, with all their charms displayed, provoke the spirit of the soldiers. Tea and coffee supply the place of Lacedaemonian black broth. This camp seems crowned with perpetual victory, for every sun that rises in the thunder of cannon, sets in the music of violins. Nothing is yet wanting but the constant presence of the princess to represent the

mater exercitus

.

In [extra_illustrations.4.389.2]  volunteers. Of those reviewed on that day, at all events, survived to take an active part, to the extent, at least, of shouldering a musket and attending drill, in the volunteer movement on its revival in -the late Mr. C. T. Tower, of Weald Hall, Essex, and Mr. James Anderton, of Dulwich, Surrey.

At these reviews there was always a goodly concourse of spectators present, of whom the larger half were ladies, true then, as now, to Ovid's wellknown line

They come to see, but also to be seen.

If we may believe Lord Lansdowne, there was among these lady frequenters of the Park on such occasions whose name is now forgotten, though she was doubtless the

belle of the season

in her day. He calls her only Mira, and we have, alas! no clue to the secret of Mira's parentage. Was she the daughter of a duke or a marquis? or was she of the maids of honour who attended in the train of royalty? Alas! we cannot tell. But we can quote Lord Lansdowne's lines entitled

Mira at a Review of the Guards in

Hyde Park

,

as certainly not out of place:--

Let meaner beauties conquer singly still,

But haughty Mira will by thousands kill:

Through armed ranks triumphantly she drives,

And with one glance commands a thousand lives.

The trembling heroes nor resist nor fly,

But at the head of all their squadrons die.

The following anecdote is vouched for by Lady C. Davies, in her

Recollections of Society:

--

Marshal Soult attended a review in

Hyde Park

in

1838

, and his stirrups happening to break, a saddler, named Laurie--the same who became afterwards Alderman Sir Peter Laurie-being asked to supply others, sent the identical stirrups which had been used in the Waterloo campaign by Napoleon I.

On the , George II. held his last review. The king, we are told,

entered the grand pavilion, or tent, under the Kensington Garden wall,

where were also present the Prince and Princess of Wales, the Duke of York, Princess Augusta, and some other of the young princesses, besides a host of noblemen. As soon as the review was over, says of ,

some pieces of a new construction, of a globular form, were set on fire, which occasioned such a smoke as to render all persons within a considerable distance entirely invisible, and thereby the better enabled in time of action to secure a retreat.

The brave old king had been in bad health for some days previously, and within hours after the review he was dead.

We must say a few words respecting some of the duels-many bloody and fatal ones--that have been fought in . The barbarous practice of duelling, no doubt, came down by tradition from the era of the Normans, if not from that of our Anglo-Saxon forefathers. From whatever race it came, it was a national stain and disgrace for centuries. In the reigns of Charles II. and James II. the mania for duelling was at its height, and, indeed, it could scarcely pass away as long as gentlemen wore their swords in every-day life as part of their costume. John Evelyn remarks, in :

Many bloody and notorious duels were fought about this time. The Duke of Grafton killed Mr. Stanley, brother to the Earl of Derby, indeed upon an almost insufferable provocation. It is to be hoped,

he adds,

that his Majesty will at last severely remedy this unchristian custom.

The story of the duel between Lord Mohun and the Duke of Hamilton, which was fought here on the ith of , is thus told by Sir Bernard Burke, in his

Anecdotes of the Aristocracy:

--

This sanguinary duel, originating in a political intrigue, was fought early one morning at the Ring, in Hyde Park, then the usual spot for settling these so-called affairs of honour. The duke and his second, Colonel Hamilton, of the Foot Guards, were the first in the field. Soon after, came Lord Mohun and his second, Major Macartney. No sooner had the second party reached the ground, than the duke, unable to conceal his feelings, turned sharply round on Major Macartney, and remarked, I am well assured, sir, that all this is by your contrivance, and therefore you shall have your share in the dance; my friend here, Colonel Hamilton, will entertain you. I wish for no better partner, replied Macartney; the colonel may command me. Little more passed between them, and the fight began with infinite fury, each being too intent upon doing mischief to his opponent to look sufficiently to his own defence. Macartney had the misfortune to be speedily disarmed, though not before he had wounded his adversary in the right leg; but, luckily The Statue Of Achilles. for him, at this very moment the attention of the colonel was drawn off to the condition of his friend, and, flinging both the swords to a distance, he hastened to his assistance. The combat, indeed, had been carried on between the principals with uncommon ferocity, the loud and angry clashing of the steel having called to the spot the few stragglers that were abroad in the Park at so early an hour. In a very short time the duke was wounded in both legs, which he returned with interest, piercing his antagonist in the groin, through the arm, and in sundry other parts of his body. The blood flowed freely on both sides, their swords, their faces, and even the grass about them, being reddened with it; but rage lent them that A Meet Of The Four-In-Hand Club. almost supernatural strength which is so often seen in madmen. If they had thought little enough before of attending to their self-defence, they now seemed to have abandoned the idea altogether. Each at the same time made a desperate lunge at the other; the duke's weapon passed right through his adversary, up to the very hilt; and the latter, shortening his sword, plunged it into the upper part of the duke's left breast, the wound running downwards into his body, when his grace fell upon him. It was now that the colonel came to his aid, and raised him in his arms. Such a blow, it is probable, would have been fatal of itself; but Macartney had by this time picked up one of the swords, and stabbing the duke to the heart over Hamilton's shoulder, immediately fled, and made his escape to Holland. Such, at least, was the tale of the day, widely disseminated and generally believed by one party, although it was no less strenuously denied by the other. Proclamations were issued, and rewards offered, to an unusual amount, for the apprehension of the murderer, the affair assuming all the interest of a public question. Nay, it was roundly asserted by the Tories, that the Whig faction had gone so far as to place hired assassins about the Park to make sure of their victim, if he had escaped the open ferocity of Lord Mohun, or the yet more perilous treachery of Macartney.

When the duke fell, the spectators of this bloody tragedy, who do not appear to have interfered in any shape, then came forward to bear him to the Cake-House, that a surgeon might be called in, and his wounds looked to; but the blow had been struck too home; before they could raise him from the grass, he expired. Such is one of the many accounts that have been given of this bloody affair, for the traditions of the day are anything but uniform or consistent. According to some, Lord Mohun shortened his sword, and stabbed the wounded man to the heart while leaning on his shoulder, and unable to stand without support; others said, that a servant of Lord Mohun's played the part that was attributed, by the more credible accounts, to Macartney. This intricate knot is by no means rendered easier of untying by the verdict of the jury, who, some years after, upon the trial of Macartney for this offence, in the King's Bench, found him only guilty of manslaughter.

Lord Mohun himself died of his wounds upon the spot, and with him his title became extinct; but the estate of Gawsworth, in Cheshire, which he had inherited from the Gerards, vested by will in his widow, and eventually passed to her second daughter, Anne Griffith, wife of the Right Hon. William Stanhope, by whose representative, the Earl of Harrington, it is now enjoyed.

In

Crowle's Illustrated Pennant,

now in the , there is a small drawing of the above duel; and there is also engraved in facsimile, in Smith's

Historical and Literary Curiosities,

a letter of Dean Swift to Mrs. Dingley, describing it. The Dean thus writes concerning this duel:

Before this comes to your Hands, you will

"have heard of the most terrible accident that

"hath almost ever happened. This morning at

9

"my man brought me word that D. Hamilton had

"fought with Ld. Mohun and killed him and

"was brought home wounded. I immediately

"sent him to the Duke's house in St James' Square,

"but the Porter could hardly answer him for tears,

"and a great Rabble was about the House. In

"short they fought at

7

this morning. The Dog

"Mohun was killed on the spot, and well (when)

"the Duke was over him, Mohun short'ning his

" sword stabb'd him in at the shoulder to the heart.

"The Duke was help'd towards the Cake-house

"in the Ring in Hide Park (where they fought)

"and dyed on the grass before he could reach the

"House, and was brought home in his Coach by

"

8

while the poor Dutchess was asleep. Mac-

"kartney, and an Hamilton were seconds and

"fought likewise, and are both fled. I am told,

"that a footman of Ld. Mohun's stabb'd D.

"Hamilton, and some say Mackartney did so too.

"I am infinitely concerned for the poor Duke

"who was an honest good natured man, I loved

"him very well and I think he loved me better.

Lord Mohun was a notorious profligate; he had frequently been engaged in duels and midnight brawls, and had been twice tried for murder. The only remark made by his widow, when his corpse was brought home, was an expression of high displeasure that the men had laid the body on her state-bed, thereby staining with blood the rich and costly furniture! The Duchess of Hamilton, who was a daughter of Digby, Lord Gerard of , continued a widow until her death, in . We have some scanty notices of this lady in Swift's

Journal and Correspondence.

The dean visited her on the morning of the fatal occurrence, and remained with her hours.

I never saw so melancholy a scene,

he says. months afterwards, he was again on a visit to the duchess, but the tables were turned. She never grieved, but raged, and stormed, and railed:

p.393

She is pretty quiet now, but has a diabolical temper.

A noteworthy duel took place in , in , between John Wilkes, the witty agitator, and Samuel Martin, a rather truculent member of Parliament. Martin, in his place in the , had alluded to Wilkes as a

stabber in the dark, a cowardly and malignant scoundrel.

Wilkes prided himself as much upon his gallantry as upon his wit and disloyalty, and lost no time in calling Martin out. The challenge was given as soon as the House adjourned, and the parties repaired at once to a copse in with a brace of pistols. They fired times, when Wilkes fell, wounded in the abdomen. His antagonist, relenting, hastened up and insisted on helping him off the ground; but Wilkes, with comparative courtesy, as strenuously urged Martin to hurry away, so as to escape arrest. It afterwards appeared that Martin had been practising in a shooting gallery for months before making the obnoxious speech in the House; and soon after, instead of being arrested, he received a valuable appointment from the ministry.

Wilkes was the cause of another rather amusing than tragical duel in this park several years later. Captain Douglas, discussing the great demagogue's merits and demerits in a coffee-house, spoke of him as a scoundrel and a coward; and, turning to the company, he added that these epithets equally applied to Wilkes's adherents. A Rev. Mr. Green took up Wilkes's cause, and pulled Captain Douglas's nose, saying he would back Wilkes against a Scot any day. They at once repaired to the Park, though it was late in the evening. The duel was fought with swords, and finally the parson militant ran the captain through the doublet, whereupon the honour of both gentlemen was asserted to be saved, and they left the field of combat, satisfied.

Richard Brinsley Sheridan, in , repaired to with Captain Matthews to fight a duel; but finding the crowd too great, they went to the Castle Tavern, Covent Garden, instead, and there fought with swords. The quarrel was about the beautiful Miss Linley, the singer, to whom Sheridan was already secretly married. Both were severely cut, but neither was seriously wounded.

In a duel was fought here between the Earl of Shelburne and Colonel Fullarton; and years later Lieutenant-Colonel Thomas and Colonel Gordon met here in deadly combat, when the former was killed. In Colonel King and Colonel Fitzgerald fought, the cause of dispute being a lady, a near relation of the former, who had been wronged by his antagonist; Fitzgerald was killed. It will scarcely be credited, that as recently as a duel was fought here between the Dukes of Bedford and Buckingham.

Mr. Harrison Ainsworth, in his historical romance of

St. James's,

describes of the duels which were fought in in the reign of Queen Anne. He pictures the parties as striking off in the direction of Kensington Gardens, and keeping on the higher ground till they reach a natural avenue of fine trees, chiefly elms, sweeping down to the edge of a sheet of water which has since been amplified into the Serpentine. He states that

about half way down the avenue were

two

springs celebrated for their virtues, to which, even in those days, when hydropathy was unknown as a practice, numbers used to resort to drink, and which were protected in wooden frames;

and that

at a later period the waters of the larger spring, known as St. Anne's well, were dispensed by an ancient dame who sat beside it with a small table and glasses. .. . A pump,

he adds,

now occupies the spot, but the waters are supposed to have lost none of their efficacy.

We shall have occasion to mention these springs again.

It is pleasant to pass from these records of bloodshed to the more enlivening accounts of the festivities and rejoicings that took place here in consequence of the Peace in , and the visit of the Allied Sovereigns. Mr. Cyrus Redding describes, with the pen of an eye-witness, the review of the Scots Greys in in the presence of their Majesties.

It was amusing,

he writes,

to see the activity of the other princes and of the Duke of Wellington in their movements, and the incapacity of the Prince Regent to keep up with them. Already grown unwieldly and bloated, he was generally left behind in the royal excursions, being too bulky and too Falstaff-like to move about as they did.

He describes the Emperor Alexander of Russia as

affable, easy, and good-humoured;

the King of Prussia as being

as milk-and-water as his courtiers and his enemies could have desired;

and the King of Belgium (then simply aide-de-camp to of their Majesties), as

lodging

au deuxieme

in

Marylebone Street

.

Again, after the battle of Waterloo, the Park was made the centre of the rejoicings for the peace. Mr. Redding tells us how

a mock naval engagement on the Serpentine river in Hyde Park was presented on the occasion. Boats rigged as vessels of war were engaged in petty combat, and one or two filled with combustibles were set on fire in order to act as fire-ships. First a couple of frigates engaged. Then the battle of the Nile was imitated. Later at night the fireworks commenced. I was as close to them as any one could well be placed. There was a painted cattle externally made of cloth. This mock fort gave out a pretended cannonade, amid the smoke of which, the scene shifting, changed the whole into a brilliant temple, with transparent paintings, to represent a temple of Peace, quite in a theatrical way. This elicited shouts of admiration from the people.

The newspapers made merry with these proceedings, of which the Prince Regent was said to have been the designer. They were worthy of the Prince's taste, extravagant and puerile as it was. One of the papers said, that two watermen, each with a line-of-battle ship on his head proceeding up Constitution Hill to the Serpentine, had been met by their reporter that morning. Another stated that a corps of Laplanders, not to exceed three feet six in height, had been reviewed for the purpose of sending them to man the Prince Regent's fleet in Hyde Park, but that they were declared to be eleven inches five lines too tall.

We may conclude this chapter by remarking that the fresh air of the neighbourhood of a century ago was proverbial; for Boswell writes to thank of his friends for the offer of the use of his apartments in London, but to decline them on the ground that

it is best to have lodgings in the more airy vicinity of

Hyde Park

.

 
 
Footnotes:

[extra_illustrations.4.377.1] The Eclipse in Hyde Park

[extra_illustrations.4.377.2] Battle of the Hyde Park

[] Strype's Stow, ii., p. 572.

[extra_illustrations.4.383.1] Curds and Whey

[extra_illustrations.4.383.2] Macaronies drinking asses milk

[extra_illustrations.4.383.3] Cheese-cake House

[] Misson's Memoirs and Observations in his Travels through England. 1719.

[] Lettres sur les Anglais et les Francais. Cologne, 1727.

[extra_illustrations.4.388.1] reviews of the troops and volunteers

[extra_illustrations.4.389.1] Official Program of Grand Review

[extra_illustrations.4.389.2] King George III. here reviewed

[] See Vol. III., p. 161.

This object is in collection Subject Temporal Permanent URL
ID:
tq57p2289
Component ID:
tufts:UA069.005.DO.00063
To Cite:
TARC Citation Guide    EndNote
Usage:
Detailed Rights
View all images in this book
 Title Page
 Chapter I: Westminster: A Survey of the City: Millbank, and its Neighbourhood
 Chapter II: Westminster.-Tothill Fields and Neighbourhood
 Chapter III: Westminster.-King Street, Great George Street, and the Broad Sanctuary
 Chapter IV: Modern Westminster
 Chapter V: St. James's Park
 Chapter VI: Buckingham Palace
 Chapter VII: The Mall and Spring Gardens
 Chapter VIII: Carlton House
 Chapter IX: St. James's Palace
 Chapter X: St. James's Palace (continued)
 Chapter XI: Pall Mall
 Chapter XII: Pall-Mall.-Club-Land
 Chapter XIII: St. James's Street.-Club-Land (continued)
 Chapter XIV: St. James's Street and its Neighbourhood
 Chapter XV: St. James's Square and its Distinguished Residents
 Chapter XVI: The Neighbourhood of St. James's Square
 Chapter XVII: Waterloo Place and Her Majesty's Theatre
 Chapter XVIII: The Haymarket
 Chapter XIX: Pall Mall East, Suffolk Street, &c.
 Chapter XX: Golden Square and its Neighbourhood
 Chapter XXI: Regent Street and Piccadilly
 Chapter XXII: Piccadilly.-Burlington House
 Chapter XXIII: Noble Mansions in Piccadilly
 Chapter XXIV: Piccadilly: Northern Tributaries
 Chapter XXV: Hanover Square and its Neighbourhood
 Chapter XXVI: Berkeley Square, and its Neighbourhood
 Chapter XXVII: Grosvenor Square, and its Neighbourhood
 Chapter XXVIII: May Fair
 Chapter XXIX: Apsley House and Park Lane
 Chapter XXX: Hyde Park
 Chapter XXXI: Hyde Park (continued)
 Chapter XXXII: Oxford Street, and its Northern Tributaries
 Chapter XXXIII: Oxford Street.-Northern Tributaries (continued)
 Chapter XXXIV: Oxford Street, and its Northern Tributaries (continued)
 Chapter XXXV: Oxford Street East.-Northern Tributaries
 Chapter XXXVI: Oxford Street: Northern Tributaries.-Tottenham Court Road
 Chapter XXXVII: Bloomsbury.-General Remarks
 Chapter XXXVIII: The British Museum
 Chapter XXXIX: The British Museum (continued)
 Chapter XL: The British Museum (continued)
 Chapter XLI: Bloomsbury Square and its Neighbourhood
 Chapter XLII: Red Lion Square, and its Neighbourhood
 Chapter XLIII: Queen Square, Great Ormond Street, &c.
 Chapter XLIV: Russell and Bedford Squares, &c.
 Chapter XLV: Gordon and Tavistock Squares, &c.