The forests round London—The manor of Eia in Domesday Book—Its subdivision—The Manor of Hyde—The Manor of Ebury—The Manor of Neate—The Neat houses—Henry VIII. and Hyde Park—Queen Elizabeth and Hyde Park—James I.—The deer in the park—Last shooting therein—Foxes—The badger. In old times London was surrounded by forests, of which the only traces now remaining are at Bishop’s Wood, between Hampstead and Highgate, and the Chase at Enfield. FitzStephen, who lived in the reign of Henry II., tells us, in his Description of London, that beyond the fields to the north of London was an immense forest, beautified with woods and groves—or in other words, park land—full of the lairs and coverts of beasts and game, stags, bucks, boars and wild bulls. Contrary to what one might expect, these forests were not reserved for the sole hunting of the King and his favourites; but, as we are informed by the same writer, many of the citizens took great delight in fowling, with merlins, hawks, etc. (which showed how wealthy they were at that time), and they had the right and privilege of hunting in Middlesex, Hertfordshire, in all the Chiltern country, and in If, however, Hyde Park was, primÆvally, a forest, it must have been cleared and brought into cultivation in the Saxon times, for there is no mention of a forest, or even woodland, in the Domesday Book account of the Manor of Eia—in which Hyde Park was situate: on the contrary, it seems as if it was highly cultivated, as is evidenced by the following translation of that portion of the book relating to this manor:— “Ossulton Hundred. The land of Geoffrey Mannevile. This Manor of Eia was bounded on the north by the Via Trinobantina, a road which crossed England from the coast of Suffolk to that of Hampshire, and we now call that portion by Hyde Park the Uxbridge Road: and on the east ran the Watling Street, a road from Chester to Dover (of which the Edgware Road is a portion), which crossed the Via Trinobantina, and continued down Park Lane to the Thames—which was the southern boundary of the manor. About the compilation of Domesday Book the Manor of Eia (we know not why) was divided into three manors, named severally Hyde, Ebury (or Eubery), and Neate (or Neyt), and was given by Geoffrey de Manneville to the Monastery of St. Peter in Westminster, where his wife Athelais was interred, and it was in the possession of this monastery till 1536. The Manor of Neate was nearest the river, about Chelsea, and there it was that the abbots of Westminster had a pleasure house. We read Islip’s successor was William Boston, and, in 1536, an Act of Parliament was passed (28 Henry VIII., c. 49) and confirmed by a conveyance dated July 1, 1537, granting the King the lands belonging to the Abbey of “Nete, within the towne and paryshes of Westmynster and Seynt Martyn’s in the Felde,” as also the manors of Neyte, Ebery, and Todington, of the advowson of Chelsea rectory, of some lands at Greenwich, and of several meadows and closes The Manor of Ebury lay between the other two manors, and comprised the district now known as Belgravia and Pimlico. It never was historically famous, but it helped to swell the coffers of the Grosvenors, especially that of the present Duke of Westminster and his father, for the manor (of 430 acres) then called Eabury or Ebury Farm came into the possession, in 1656, of Sir Thomas Grosvenor, who married the daughter and sole heiress of Alexander Davies, Esq., of Ebury Farm, who never could have contemplated the princely fortune he was leaving to her descendants. Once only do we hear anything particular of the Manor of Ebury, and that is in connection with Queen Elizabeth. At least this was the plea of those who broke down the fences, etc., in 1592. “The Parishioners, having, as they supposed, that Lord’s The Manor of Neate lay alongside the river Thames, and although we have seen that the old moated mansion was of some importance, still, at the time of the above dispute (in which it shared with the neighbouring manor), it was only termed a farm, the house and all the ground around it having been granted by Edward VI. to Sir Anthony Brown; still the name of the manor was perpetuated in the “Neat Houses”—which were places of rural entertainment, and which Strype (Book vi. p. 67) describes: “The Neat Houses are a Parcel of Houses, most seated on the Banks of the River Thames, and inhabited by Gardiners; for which it is of Note, for the supplying London and Westminster Markets with Asparagus, Artichoaks, Cauliflowers, Musmelons, and the like useful Things that the Earth produceth; which, by reason of their keeping the Ground so rich by dunging it (and through the nearness to London, they have the Soil cheap), doth make their crops very forward, to their great Profit in coming to such good Markets. There are no traces of these “Neat Houses” now; they disappeared entirely before the destructive builder, but they were in existence during this century, and stood where now is St. George’s Row, Warwick Street, Pimlico. Yet it is evident that before it sunk wholly into market gardens, the “Neat Houses” was a place of amusement where people of good standing in society might attend without prejudice. In those days people’s tastes were much simpler than in our time, and drinking syllabubs, and playing at an imaginary Arcadian life with imaginary Chloes and Strephons was fashionable. It would be hard, indeed, if Pepys had nothing to say about this suburban place of entertainment, where he takes his wife and Mistress Knipp, an actress, of whom his wife was jealous. “Aug. 1, 1667. After the Play, we went into the House, and spoke with Knipp, who went abroad with us, by coach, to the Neat Houses, in the way to Chelsy; and there, in a Box in a Tree, we sat and sang, and talked and eat; my wife out of humour, as she always is, when this women is by.” And again, “May 28, 1668. Met Mercer It seems a pity after such a merry scene to chronicle a death, but it was not a common one. Domestic Intelligencer, August 5th, 1679. “We hear that Madam Ellen Gwyn’s mother, sitting lately by the water-side at her house by the Neate Houses, near Chelsea, fell accidentally into the water, and was drowned.” There seems no reason to doubt but that Henry VIII. wanted these manors for the purpose of hunting, as they lay so contiguous to the 100 acres which, in 1532, he had added to St. James’s Park; and that this was his intention is shown by a proclamation made in 1536, wherein the King, who was passionately fond of all field sports, and excelled in them, as in every other manly exercise, says, that being desirous of having hares, patridges, pheasants and herons preserved round about his Palace of Westminster, for his own disport and pastime, forbids anyone, under pain of imprisonment, and further punishment according to his will and pleasure, either 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.” Hyde Park was then of much greater extent than it is at present, and comprised 620 acres; but what with the portion taken to add to Kensington Gardens, and land taken away at Hyde Park Corner, it now does not measure 400 acres. There is very little doubt but that when this manor of Hyde came into the possession of Henry VIII. he fenced it round, because its northern, southern, and eastern boundaries were all public roads, and, Queen Elizabeth also hunted in Hyde Park—and, like her brother, offered sport therein to noble visitors. For instance, she so entertained Count John Casimir, son of Frederick III., Elector Palatine, and a general in the Dutch service, as we learn from the Talbot Papers, In the 1575 edition of Geo. Turberville’s “Noble Art of Venerie or hunting” (p. 95) we have a fine picture of Queen Elizabeth on one of these stands, whilst, kneeling on the ground, and bareheaded, the royal huntsman presents the “fewmets,” or droppings of the deer, on some leaves, in a plate, for the Queen’s inspection; and the following is “The report of a Huntesman upon the sight of an Hart, in pride of greace. “‘Before the Queen, I come report to make, Then husht and peace, for noble Tristrame’s sake. From out my horne, my fewments first I drawe, And then present, on leaves, by hunter’s lawe; And thus I say; my Liege, behold and see An Hart of tenne, I hope he harbored bee. For if you mark his fewmets every poynt, You shall them find long, round and well anoynt, Knottie and great, without prickes or eares, The moystness shewes what venison he beares.’” Another engraving shows the Queen about to “First, where hee appointeth the Deares foote to be cut off, and to be presented to the Queen or chiefe, our order is that the Queen or chiefe (if so please them) do alight and take assaye of the Deare with a sharpe knife, the which is done in this maner. The deare being layd upon his backe, ye Queen, chiefe, or such as they shall appoint, comes to it. And ye chiefe huntsman (kneeling, if it be to the Queen) doth hold the Deare by the fore foote, whiles the Queen or chiefe, cut a slit drawne alongst the brysket of the deare, somewhat lower than the brysket towards the belly. This is done to see the goodnesse of the fleshe, and howe thicke it is.” In the 1611 edition, James I. takes the place of Queen Elizabeth. James I. no doubt, as he was so fond of hunting, hunted the deer here, although he had Theobalds and Windsor, with many another hunting ground. And the deer were kept up in Charles I.’s reign, when Hyde Park was still an enclosed and private Royal park: and the deer were still preserved, for, when the Park was sold according to a special Resolution of the House of Commons of the 1st Dec., 1652, what were left of the deer, during those troublous times, were sold for the benefit of the Navy, and they were valued in the specifications at £765 6s. 2d. I can find no record of their sale—but they were sold. And soon after the Restoration, when James Hamilton, Esq. (one of the Grooms of the Bedchamber), was Ranger—he advised the “Behold the ranger As just now issuing from his cottage With crew Cerberian, prowling o’er the plain To guard the harmless deer, and range them in Due order set, to their intended use. Key he can furnish, but must first receive One splendid shilling, e’er I can indulge The pleasing walk, and range the verdant field.” As far as I can learn, the last Royal shooting of the deer in Hyde Park was on the 9th Sept., 1768, and it is the more interesting, considering how intimately we are now allied with the House of Saxe Cobourg Gotha. In The Public Advertiser of Sept. 12, 1768, we read: “Same day, their Serene Highnesses the two Princes of Saxe Gotha, and many other Foreigners of Distinction, together with a great Number of our own Nobility, and Gentry, attended the Diversion of Deer Shooting in Hyde Park, which continued all the Evening till Dark, when one was at last killed, after being shot at ten Times. What rendered it so difficult to kill him, was the Hardship of getting him from among the Deer, and no other was allowed to be shot at The deer still remained, until early in this century, in this enclosure, which was in the north-west corner of the Park, bounded on the north by the Park wall, on the west by Kensington Gardens, on the south by the Serpentine, and on the east by a fence. Dogs were allowed in the other parts of the Parks, as our poet says,— “But lo! a faithful spaniel, there stretch’d out, Not food for powder meet, relentless gun!” But the “relentless gun” was evidently necessary against the foxes, for there is a Minute of the Board of Green Cloth in 1798, by which Sarah Gray is granted a pension of £18 per annum, to compensate her somewhat for the loss of her husband, who was accidentally killed by a shot from the gun of a keeper, who was hunting for foxes in Kensington Gardens. It would be a thankless task to look for them there at the present time; but it is not very many years since there was a badger, who took up his abode in a drain in the Gardens, and could not be dislodged. Strange and weird legends were told concerning this badger, one of which was that he had devoured a policeman, clothing and all, with the exception of his boots and helmet. The badger was ultimately caught, and purchased, I believe, by the Baroness Burdett-Coutts, who sent it into the country, and there gave it its liberty. |