In a “Letter from John Barber to Mr. Scudamore,” dated “London, 2 Maij, 1654,” the following account of the scene is given:
“Yesterday each coach (and I believe there were 1500) payed 2: 6d., and each horse 1s., but yᵉ benefit accrewes to a brace of citizens who have taken yᵉ herbage of yᵉ parke of Mr. Deane, to wᶜʰ they adde this excise of beauty: there was a hurlinge in yᵉ paddock-course by Cornish Gentlemen for yᵉ greate solemnity of yᵉ daye, wᶜʰ indeed (to use my Lord protector’s word) was great: when my Lord protector’s coach came into yᵉ Parke wᵗʰ Col. Ingoldsby and my lord’s daughters onely (3 of them all in greene-a) the coaches and horses flock’d about them like some miracle, but they gallop’d (after yᵉ mode court-pace now, and wᶜʰ they all use where ever they goe) round and round yᵉ parke, and all yᵗ great multitude hunted them and caught them still at yᵉ turne like a hare, and then made a Lane wᵗʰ all reverent hast for them, and soe after them againe, that I never saw yᵉ like in my life.”
Evelyn, still grumbling at the payment to be made, and with all the disgust of a courtier at times so much out of joint, gives a little picture of the Park a year before King Charles II. came back to the throne, but he can say nothing good for it.
“... I did frequently in the spring accompany my Lord N. into a field near the town, which they call Hyde Par: the place not unpleasant, and which they use as our Course: but with nothing of that order, equipage and splendour: being such an assemblage of wretched jades and hackney-coaches, as, next a regiment of carmen, there is nothing which approaches the resemblance.”
“A field near the town which they call Hyde Park.” What measureless contempt is contained in that phrase! But Evelyn lived to enjoy brighter scenes. He proceeds:
“This park was, it seems, used by the late King and nobility, for the freshness of the air and the goodly prospect. But it is that which now, besides all other excises, they pay for here in England; though it be free in all the world beside: 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 with long staves. The manner is, as the company returns, to alight at the Spring Gardens, so called, in order to the Park, as our Tuilleries is to the Course. The enclosure not disagreeable for the solemnesse of the Grove, warbling of the birds; and as it opens into the spacious walks at St. James’s. But the company walk in at such a rate, as you would think the ladies were so many Atalantas, contending with their wooers: and, my lord, there was no appearance that I should prove the Hippomenes; who could, with very much ado, keep pace with them. But as fast as they run, they stay there so long, as if they wanted not time to finish the race; for it is usual here to find some of the young company till midnight, and the thickets of the garden seem to be contrived to all advantages of gallantry, after they have been refreshed with the collation, which is here seldom omitted, at a certain cabaret in the middle of this paradise, where the forbidden fruits are certain trifling tarts, neat’s tongues, salacious meats, and bad Rhenish: for which the gallants pay sauce, as indeed they do at all such houses throughout England. For they think it a piece of frugality beneath them to bargain, or account for, what they eat in any place, however unreasonably imposed on.”
Such feeble effort of would-be gallantry, at which Evelyn, himself a somewhat precise person, so openly flouted, was yet sufficient to cause pain to many good Puritans, though they were no longer able to suppress it. The other day I came across a contemporary pamphlet, by a writer who evidently had been much agitated by these terrible doings. Its full title is:
“The Yellow Book, or a serious letter sent by a private Christian to the Lady Consideration, the first of May 1656, which she is desired to communicate in Hide-Park to the Gallants of the Times, a little after Sun-set; also a brief account of the names of some vain persons that intend to be there,” whose company the new ladies are desired to forbear. It begins:
“Lady, I am informed fine Mrs. Dust, Madam Spot, and my Lady Paint are to meet in Hide-Park this afternoon; much of pride will be there,” and so on to considerable length, with many a befitting admonition.
In Hyde Park on one occasion Cromwell very nearly lost his life. Some beautiful Friesland horses had been presented to him by the Duke of Holstein, and when taking the air in the Park, accompanied merely by his Secretary and a small guard of janissaries, he became so infuriated at the slowness of their pace that he exchanged places with the coachman, and with great impatience thrashed the animals soundly to make them quicken their speed. High-spirited, and not understanding such rough usage, they promptly bolted, and, tearing along at a frantic pace, threw the Protector off the box. As he fell his pistol went off in his pocket, and his legs became so entangled in the harness that the poor man was dangling from the pole for some seconds. However, he received no substantial injury beyond a good shaking and some bruises.