Next day, he went again. “After dinner, got my wife to read, and then by coach, she and I, to the Park, and there spent the evening with much pleasure, it proving clear after a little shower, and we mighty fine, as yesterday, and people mightily pleased with our Coach, as I perceived; but I had not on my fine suit, being really afraid to wear it, it being so fine with the gold lace, though not gay.”
But he was destined to undergo the humiliation of hearing his friends’ criticisms on his new-born finery. “May 10th, 1669. Thence walked a little with Creed, who tells me he hears how fine my horses and coach are, and advises me to avoid being noted for it, which I was vexed to hear taken notice of, being what I feared: and Povy told me of my gold laced sleeves in the park yesterday, which vexed me also, so as to resolve never to appear in Court with them, but presently to have them taken off, as it is fit I should, and so called at my tailor’s for that purpose.”
One more quotation, to show that fireworks were exhibited in the Park, and I have done with Pepys. “May 29th, 1669. Home to dinner, and then with my wife to Hyde Park, where all the evening; great store of company, and great preparations by the Prince of Tuscany to celebrate the night with fireworks, for the King’s birthday.”
From that time to the present the Park has always been a fashionable drive, not always attended with safety to its frequenters: witness two accidents there in 1739. The London Daily Post, of Sept. 19, 1739, says: “On Monday evening last, as their Royal Highnesses the four Princesses [daughters of George II.] were coming to town from Kensington, a single Horse Chaise, with a Gentleman and his daughter in it, drove against the leading Coach in Hyde Park; the Chaise at length overturned, and the Horse falling under the Horses of the leading Coach, put them into such confusion, that four of them came down, and trampled for some time on the Horse and Chaise; the Gentleman and his daughter were much hurt, and the Postillion to the leading Coach had his Thigh broke by his fall; the Princesses were extreamly frightened, and cry’d out for Help. Several Persons came up to their Assistance; they returned to Kensington and were blooded: the Postillion is attended by the King’s Surgeons.”
Closely following on this was another accident, as we read in The Weekly Miscellany of Oct. 20, 1739. “Sunday night last his Grace the Duke of Grafton, coming from Kensington, and ordering his Coachman to drive to the New Gate in Hyde Park, in order to make some Visits towards Grosvenor Square, the Chariot, through the Darkness of the Night, was overset in driving along the Road, and, falling into a large, deep Pit, the Duke slipt his Collar bone, and the Coachman broke his Leg, which was splintered in many Places: and on Monday, the Limb was taken off by Amputation. One of his Grace’s Footmen was, also, much hurt.”
Even in Queen Anne’s reign it was found necessary to issue some rules and directions (July 1, 1712) “For the better keeping Hyde Park in good Order.” The gatekeepers were to be always on duty, and not to sell ale, brandy, or other liquors. No one should leap over the ditches or fences, or break the latter down. “No person to ride over the grass on the South side of the Gravelled Coach Road ... excepting Henry Wise, who is permitted to pass cross that Part of the Park leading from the Door in the Park Wall, next his Plantation.” No grooms nor others were to ride over the banks, or slopes, of any pond. No stage coach, hackney coach, chaise with one horse, cart, waggon, nor funeral should pass through the Park, and no one cut or lop any of the trees.
Henri Misson came over to England in the reign of James II., and published his experiences, which were translated by John Ozell, in 1719. Speaking of Hyde Park, he says, “The King has a Park so call’d at the end of one of the suburbs of London. Here the People of Fashion take the Diversion of the Ring: In a pretty high place, which lies very open, they have surrounded a Circumference of two or three hundred Paces Diameter with a sorry kind of Ballustrade, or rather with Poles plac’d upon Stakes, but three Foot from the ground; and the Coaches drive round and round this; when they have turn’d for some Time round one Way, they face about and turn t’other; So rowls the World.”
On the completion of the Serpentine, and the consequent road on its north bank, the cramped and confined Ring went out of fashion, as we learn in No. 56 of The London Spy Revived, December 6, 1736. “The Ring in Hyde Park being quite disused by the Quality and Gentry, we hear that the ground will be taken in for enlarging the Royal Gardens at Kensington in the next Spring.” But this was probably either only a rumour, or else Queen Caroline was better advised. The old name, however, still clung to the new road, and the carriage ride round the Park is still indifferently called the Ring or the Drive.
In the Library of the British Museum are two copies of an old ballad (circa 1670-5) entitled “News from Hide-Park,”[30] a portion of which gives a graphic description of the Park at that time.
“One Evening, a little before it was dark,
Sing tan tara rara tantivee,
I called for my Gelding and rid to Hide-Parke
On tan tara rara tantivee:
It was in the merry Month of May,
When Meadows and Fields were gaudy and gay,
And Flowers apparell’d as bright as the day,
I got upon my tantivee.