a lingering fondness for James I. He was the last of the line of British monarchs, going back to the earliest feudal times, with whom the love of hunting the wild animal in his native glades remained an absorbing passion. When he passed the way of all men Hyde Park underwent a great change. It ceased to be a close game preserve, and became for the first time a real centre of social enjoyment, such as we still find it. In the wilder parts hunting was practised, but Charles I. seems to have thrown the park—or at least a large part of it—open to all comers, with few limitations.
With the ill-fated Stuart King, rather than with Henry VIII., the park as a place of popular resort really begins.
Life out of doors became more safe, people took more pleasure in going about, locomotion became easier and money circulated more freely. As the fashionable world began to take the air farther afield than St. James’s Park and Pall Mall, more keepers, more lodges, and more accommodation were required in Hyde Park. Mention is made in the State Papers that on 20th November 1635, £800 was paid for building a new lodge in Hyde Park; and three years later there was a payment of £1123, 5s. 5d. for further work done at the new lodge, according to the estimate of the famous architect, Inigo Jones.
The area of the Park in which the fashion and beauty of Stuart London mostly foregathered was that which in after years became famous as “The Ring,” the precursor of modern racing.
CHEESECAKE HOUSE. Print from “The Gentleman’s Magazine.”
Where Society partook of syllabub, and the Duke of Hamilton was carried mortally wounded.
From before the Restoration until far into the Georgian period it remained the great resort of all the beau monde. The site lay to the north of the present Serpentine, close by the ground now enclosed in the Ranger’s private gardens. Such a space—only 300 yards in diameter—seems too limited to be the rendezvous for the votaries of fashion, when we think of the crowds in Hyde Park to-day. But Society was then but a fraction of what the term represents in our time, and it will be seen that this was the case even after the Ring had long disappeared. The new tea-house to be opened about 1908, under the auspices of Mr. L. Harcourt, will stand upon the south-western corner of the “Ring.” It seems a pity that part of Crosby Hall, anyway the old banquetting hall, could not have been utilised for this object. By such means one of the most historical spots in London would have been kept in our midst. It would be curious should fashion again migrate to the spot which to Pepys and other gossips, two and a half centuries ago, was the centre of all the town’s attractions.
A lodge, built of timber and plaster and probably erected in the reign of James I., stood near by the Ring. It was first known as “Grave Maurice’s Head,” and there the people frequenting the Park obtained refreshment. It figures as “The Lodge” in Pepys’ accounts of his outings, but later was known as the Cheesecake House, probably from the fact of that special viand being sold there; another name was the “Lake House.”
There, amid the greenery, the gay world thronged. Cavaliers with waving plumes, some riding with spurs and swords, others in their new equipages, while bright-eyed ladies accompanied them to watch the races and the crowd. Gay gallants courted pretty wenches, smart diplomatists dropped secrets in the ears of beautiful women. Love-making and court intrigues were hatched in Hyde Park, and many a romance, many a comedy, was unfolded under the shade of the trees.
Of the social life of the times in which Hyde Park now began to play an important part, there is a delightful picture in a letter from one Mrs. Merricke to Mrs. Lydall, written on 21st January 1638. It is very modern in sentiment, although written nearly three hundred years ago. The poor lady was most anxious about her personal appearance, even in bed, and equally distressed that her library consisted of only two books. The letter runs:
Letter from Mrs. Merricke to Mrs. Lydall, 21st January 1638.
“Faire Mrs. Lydall,
“For soe my owne eyes bid mee call you, whilst others happie in a neerer familiaritie intitle you wife, sister, sweetehart, chayce conceite or the like: give me leave in this rude paper to present my service, and humblie to begg a boone of you: ’Tis the felicitie of your place to bee neere the person of my honourable Lady; and ’tis not unknowne how lovelie and solitarie the countrie at this tyme is, soe tedious indeede to mee (whoe have ever lived among good companie) that longer than the springe I shall never be able to indur’t. My earnest suite to you therefore is, to solicite her honor in my behalfe that her Laᵖ will be pleased to graunte mee her favour to come upp to towne in Hide-park time. For (howe it comes about I cannot tell) I feele in my selfe a strange desire to be satisfied whether I shall injoye my love this yeare or noe; and I beelive your nightingales there, knowe more in the saye of love then ours at Wrest, by reason they have the advantage of being bred neere the Court. Yet I confesse the feare of war with the Scotts does not a litle trouble mee; for should all the young gallants goe for souldiers, howe shuld you and I doe for servants? (which, I take it, is all wee ladyes consider in that businesse) or whoe shuld attend us to that place of pleasure, which both of us soe jealouslie affect, that rather then be absent weele venture to committ the absurditie of going with our own husbands! You would not think how I long to see those French ladyes, Madam Mornay and Madam Daray, whose beauty has ariv’d to our eares, and those new starres of our English Court, Mrs. Harrison and Mrs. Vaughan. I remember when you and I last discourst of hansome woemen wee thought our penny as good silver as the best, nor will wee ever, if rul’d by mee, yeild precedence to anie. Let it not be grievous to enquire of you the newest fashions, whether they weare theire sleeves downe to the wrests still, the mode the Dutchesse of Chevereuse brought over, or whether they weare their neckes up; a fashion in which I confesse I love not my selfe; nor doe I hold her worthy of a faire necke, or any other good part, that is not free to showe it. I have a further request unto you, that wou’d bee pleas’d, when your owne occasions invite you to the Exchange, to buy mee halfe a dozen of white night coyfes which tye under the chinn, and as many white hoods to weare over um a dayes, when I’m not well; for truelie I endeavour as much to looke well by night as by daye; in the house as abroade; and (for I dare tell you any thing) I constantly dresse my selfe by my glasse when I goe to bed, least shou’d a gentleman peepe in my Chamber in the morning (and gentlemen, you knowe, sometymes will bee uncivill) I shou’d appeare to him, though not ill-favoured, yet lesse pleaseing. I cou’d wish my selfe with you, to ease you of this trouble, and with all to see the Alchymist, which I heare this tearme is reviv’d, and the newe playe a friend of mine sent to Sʳ John Sucklyn and Tom Carew (the best witts of the time) to correct. But for want of these gentile recreations, I must content my selfe here with the Studie of Shackspeare, and the historie of Woemen, all my Countrie Librarie. Newes have I none to send you, onely at my Lady Mores wee have lately had a ball, where your Company was much wished. I had intended to ha’ requited ’um with another at Wrest, and given ’um the addition of a small banquet, but they desired it might be put off till you come downe, that your presence mayᵉ crowne the meeting. I beseech you at your best leisure honour me with a few lines from your faire hand.
“Your most humble and most affectionate servant,
“Ann Merricke.
“Wrest, Janua: 21, 1638.”
Driving and walking became daily more fashionable at the Piccadilly end of Hyde Park. The gay and frivolous George Villiers, Duke of Buckingham, was wont to trip along in all his frills and frippery, or sitting stately in his coach drawn by six horses, joking with King Charles, and urging the monarch to some fresh imprudence. Many looked darkly on the silly intercourse between these two men. Charles, clinging to the ambitions of his powerful minister, with the obstinacy of a weak and incapable nature, was far advanced on the way to the scaffold, when John Fenton—mixing with the crowds assembled at Portsmouth to witness Buckingham’s departure for France—stabbed the favourite to the heart.
Queen Henrietta Maria’s Penance at Tyburn beneath the “Triple Tree.”
From an old Print in the Crowle Collection, British Museum.
An