Precisely at two o’clock, their Majesties, accompanied by the Princess Augusta, the Landgravine of Hesse Homburgh, the Duke of Cambridge, Prince George of Cambridge, Sir Augustus and Lady D’Este, and others, came across from the Pavilion Grounds to the boarded-off avenue, where they were met by the High Constable, who had received His Majesty’s commands to escort the royal party to the festive scene, where they received the respects of the Magistrates, Clergy, and Gentry. Having surveyed the scene for some time, their Majesties and suite passed along the line close to the children, frequently returning the salutations of the people with the utmost affability and condescension. Having returned to the entrance, their Majesty’s bowed to the vast assemblage and withdrew, attended by their royal relatives. At that moment the regimental bands struck up the National Anthem, and shouts simultaneously burst from every lip. Even the children, whose eyes only, as yet, had been feasted, rose and mingled their shrill voices with the harmony of throats.
It was calculated that more than 60,000 persons were present to view the feeding of the youthful multitude, who, immediately on the Grace having been said by the Rev. H. M. Wagner—Vicar,—were supplied with an unlimited quantity of roast and boiled beef and plum pudding by the numerous carvers who had volunteered their services, lady waitresses with the utmost alacrity attending most assiduously upon the youthful guests. It was an occasion that formed an epoch in the life of every person present. On the occasion of the first visit of Queen Victoria to Brighton, October 4th, 1837, a similar banquet was given to the children upon the Steine.
The most celebrated public buildings of the Steine were the libraries, which were the principal resort of the visitors. The first library here was instituted by Mr. Woodgate, at the southern extremity, on the premises at present occupied by Mr. Shaw, confectioner, and others, contiguous to the York Hotel, where also was the Post Office. Mr. Woodgate was succeeded by Miss Widget, who resigned it to Mr. Bowen; after whom came Mr. Crawford, and, lastly, Mr. F. G. Fisher.
The other library was that of Mr. Thomas, after whom was Mr. Dudlow, who was succeeded by Mr. James Gregory, whose successor, Mr. Donaldson, resigned the establishment to Mr. Thomas Lucombe. Mr. Donaldson pulled down the original low building in 1806, and erected the present structure, which has however, since the carriage road has been formed in front of it, been much modernized to suit the various businesses to which the premises have been devoted.
“A Diarist,” writing August 23rd, 1779, says, “There is a sort of rivalry between the two Librarians on the Steyne, as to their subscription books; which shall most justly deserve the title of the book of Numbers.—There is a constant struggle between them, which shall be most courteous; and the effects are those usually consequent upon an opposition. Sir Christopher Caustic, this morning was turning over the leaves, at Bowen’s, which contains the names of the subscribers. Mr. Bowen bowed a la Novarre or Gallini, and with offered pen and ink, craved the honour of—an additional name: this being his first season, and having been purposely misinformed by some would be witty wag; ‘Sir,’ said Mr. Bowen, displaying, all the time, two irregular rows of remarkably white teeth, ‘yours will stand immediately after that of the Honourable Charles James Fox, Esq., and before that of Mrs. Franco, the rich Jew’s lady. Esquire W—d’s was to have been on the medium line, but, poor gentleman, he is unfortunately detained near London, on emergent business.’ To what a degree was the dealer in stationery let down, when he was afterwards regularly rectified; when by explanatory notes, and critical commentations, he came to be fully informed that the individual Mr. Fox in question was not the celebrated senator of that name, but an Irish Jontleman, who condescends in winter to keep a chop house at the corner of the playhouse passage, in Bow Street, Covent Garden; and every autumnal season, has frequent opportunities of storming and swearing at the ladies who may have the good fortune to belong to the Brighthelmstone company of Comedians, he being sole manager thereof. And such management!—Scarrons Rancour, who filled all the characters in a play by himself, was a fool to him. That Mrs. Franco was, to be sure, the temporary wife of young Mr. Franco, last season, but seems at leisure this to be the temporary wife of even Mr. Bowen, if he pleases; and that poor Billy, who was the Beau, is confined, custodia marcellis, Banco Regis, on suspicion of debt, where he blacks shoes, cleans knives, and turns spits, for the privilege of dipping sops in the dripping-pans of poor prisoners.”
“Mr. Thomas, the other librarian, must be noticed in turn. He hath been years enough practising small talk with the ladies and gentlemen upon the Steyne, and hath arrived at a surprising degree of precision in pronouncing French-English. He is now reading the newspaper to some of his subscribers, with an audible voice, and repeatedly calls a detached body of troops a corpse; a tour he improves into a tower; and delivers his words in a promiscas manner. It is near seven in the evening, and the widow Fussic has just waddled into his shop, with a parasol in her right, and a spying-glass in her left hand. Thomas offers her a General Advertiser. ‘Lord bless me!’ says she, ‘Mr. Thomas, how damp this paper is tho’ it it has come so far, and must have been printed so long since! What reason can you give for it?’—Mr. Thomas observes, considers and explains, in a most explicit manner, the cause and the effect, to the inquisitive lady, naturally speaking, as a body may say; proving to a demonstration, according to Candide, that there can be no effect without a cause; and that of course, damp papers, closely compressed, will continue damp a considerable time. In the interim, Miss Fanny Fussic stares and whispers to her brother Bobby, while he is subscribing to a raffle, that Mr. Thomas must be a most prodigious man, monstrously intelligent, and withal, that he is amazingly communicative: ‘He knows but every-thing,’ says she, ‘and tells but every-thing he knows.’”
Another Library was also established on the Steine, on the premises which had been known as Raggett’s Subscription House, at the opposite corner of St. James’s Street. “In this house,” writes Mr. H. R. Attree, in his Topography of Brighton, “the dice are often rattled to some tune, and bank-notes transferred from one hand to another, with as little ceremony as bills of the play, or quack doctor’s draughts to their patients.” This library was established by Mr. Donaldson, jun., who disposed of it to Mr. Osborne, from whom it passed to Mr. Nathaniel Turner.
Originally, beneath the balconies in front of the two first-mentioned libraries, were seats, with and without reclining backs, upon which, in genial weather, subscribers were accustomed to lounge and peruse the newspaper or the last new novel of the day. Cigars then were unknown, and short pipes had not come into vogue, so that these retreats were not disfigured with the notice “No smoking allowed,” as the “weed” was not indulged in, except behind a long “churchwarden” at the tavern, where gossips nightly met to chat over the scandals of the day. Besides these retreats beneath the balconies, there were open high-backed seats, called Settles, much after the structure of rustic chairs in parks and pleasure grounds, upon various parts of the promenade around the Steine. At the bottom of the Steine, also, facing the sea, was the Alcove, a summer-house kind of building, capable of seating something like half-a-dozen persons. Bew, [200] in his diary, date, Thursday, August 26th, 1779, says, “This morning I edged away towards the Alcove, at the east end of the bottom of the Steyne, wherein were seated two Elders, and perhaps, a chaste Susanna; at any rate, she was not naked. On my approach they departed hastily, and I joined the deserted lady—in discourse, by observing that the town was thin, and that I heard trade in general was very bad. ‘Very bad, indeed, Sir,’ said she; ‘I suppose you are a fellow sufferer. You belong to the players, Sir, don’t you?’ ‘My dear,’ replied I, ‘why should you think so?’ ‘Because you are seldom without a book in your hand.’ ‘Do few read besides players, then?’—‘Yes, Sir, I beg pardon; I had another reason; but you’ll excuse me.’ ‘Indeed I will not my dear.’—‘Why then, Sir, as you advanced towards us, one of those elderly gentlemen—by their discourse I believe they are parsons,—said to the other, ‘Come, Sir, let us be gone, or we shall be taken off; Mr. Diarist is coming this way.’ ‘Now, Sir, if that is your name, tho’ I have never seen it yet in the play bills, was it wonderful that I should imagine you to be one of the gentlemen players.’—I assured her, nevertheless, that I was not entitled to that honour; and here you may imagine our conference ended.”
Another retreat for a lounge or promenade was the Colonnade under the balcony of the library on the Marine Parade, established in 1798, by Messrs. Donaldson and Wilkes, and afterwards carried on by Mr. Pollard, and then by Messrs. Tuppen and Walker. This library, and the original two on the Steine, were not merely the resort of visitors for the purpose of literary pursuits, as their name legitimately implies, but after eight o’clock in the evening, during the Summer season, that portion of the business in connexion with books ceased, and holland blinds being drawn down to cover over the whole of the books and book-shelves, a saloon was formed that nightly attracted hundreds of tonish idlers to the vocal and instrumental music that was discoursed, and to join in the raffles, similar to those that were going on at Raggett’s subscription room.
Bew, in his Diary, date, Saturday, September 4th, 1799, writes,—“Every article of convenience, every trinket of luxury, is transferred by this uncertain, quick mode of conveyance. Not a shop without its rattle-trap,—rattle, rattle, rattle, morning and evening. Here may be seen,—walk in and see,—an abridgment of the wisdom of this world;—the pomps and vanities are at large, varying like yonder evanescent clouds. Observe the fond parent initiating her forward offspring in the use of the dice-box, and herself setting the example; yet may she wonder, at some future day, and think her throw in life’s raffle extremely severe, that a propensity to that and similar habits should continue and increase.” Fisher, in August, 1805, established a new Auction Mart in St. James’s Street, that was open morning and night. The following extracts from a private diary will in some degree explain the rage which was on at those periods for this and similar virulent pastimes:—
August 2nd, 1792.—But little company stirred out to-day, on account of the intense heat of the weather. Sporting men of fashion, dashers, and blacklegs certainly assembled on the Steine, to make their bets for to-morrow’s Lewes Races, where much excellent sport is expected. The other part of the day was spent mostly in Raggett’s Subscription House, at Billiards, Dice, &c. On dit.—Lady Lade is returning from Brighton in much dudgeon,—because, forsooth, Lady Jersey, she says, made wulgar mouths at her yesterday on the race-ground!
July 23rd, 1805.—A very select and elegant assemblage of nobility last night paraded the Steine until a late hour. Donaldson’s library, also, was very fashionably filled; and Wilks’s Pic-nic Auction exhibited a blaze of rank and beauty.
August 23rd.—Wilks’s bargains were in fashionable request last night, and the knock-down blows of Fisher were directed with his usual ability and effect. Fisher’s New Auction Lounge was again well filled with rank and beauty this morning. A monster of the finny tribe has been exhibited in a marquee, pitched purposely for the occasion, on the Steine to-day. It is called a Star Fish, and is so worthy the attention of the curious that it has divided the attention of the public with Fisher.
August 27th.—Wilks’s Auction Lounge, last night, was immensely crowded until a late hour: nor has the magnetical hammer of Fisher, at his new room, been less attractive this morning.
September 21st, 1807.—Donaldson’s and Pollard’s libraries have had crowded assemblages, and the game of Loo has had more than its usual number of votaries. This evening Mr Cartwright will perform at Fisher’s Lounge, on the musical glasses, under the patronage of Mrs Orby Hunter.
October 8th.—Pam still possesses his original attraction, and the Belles are nightly looed in his presence.—Rather a bad pun that, eh?
May 9th, 1810.—Donaldson’s and Walker’s spacious and airy Steine and Marine Lounges have not been so interestingly decorated with rank and beauty as they have to-day appeared for many preceding months, though the amusements of one card loo, &c., are not yet there introduced. The diversion of raffling has not been permitted at either for some years past, nor will it again be allowed, so long as the Little-go Bill remains unrepealed; we may therefore conclude that the rattle of the dice will never be heard at either again.
Trinket Auctions were established when an Act of Parliament, called Mr. Vansittart’s Little-go Bill, was passed, that did away with raffling at all places of public resort, as the profits to the librarians at the watering places generally, arose from these diversions, rather than from the high literary character of the books upon their shelves, or the erudite position of the persons whose names were in their subscription books because fashion ruled it so. The novelty of Trinket Auctions soon wore off, and then another pastime, under the name of Loo, was introduced. The game was very diverting in its progress, and afforded an occasion for many agreeable sallies of wit, according to the talent of the conductor of it and the disposition to replications of those about him. The Loo Sweepstakes, as they were termed, were limited to eight subscribers, and the individual stake, one shilling. The full number being obtained, a certain quantity of cards, amongst which was a Knave of Clubs, or Pam, were shuffled, cut, and separately dealt and turned: the numbers were called in rotation during the process, and that against which Pam appeared was pronounced the winner.
In September, 1810, an attempt was made to constitute the game of Loo an illegal act. For that purpose informations were lodged against Messrs. Donaldson and Walker, the proprietors of the Steine and Marine Libraries, and the case was heard at Lewes, before a full Bench of Magistrates. Mr. Courthorpe was counsel for the prosecution, and Mr. Adolphus appeared for the defendants. The only case that was argued was that of an information against Mr. Walker, founded on the 12th of Geo. II., c. 28, and which was dwelt on with much force,—such indeed as a confidence of success only could inspire—by Mr. Courthorpe. To prove that defendant had offended within the meaning of the Act, and consequently was liable to the penalty therein expressed, i.e., two hundred pounds, Mrs. White, the wife of one of the informers, was called and examined. This witness hesitated considerably in her evidence, particularly when interrogated by Mr. Adolphus, as to her motive in becoming a subscriber to the Loo amusement at Walker’s and whether or not she had so acted with the solo aim and purpose of lodging an information against Mr. Walker, which she at last admitted. The substance of her evidence was “That she attended at Walker’s library on the 30th of August; that she stood next to Mr. Walker on that occasion; that she heard him say, ‘Ladies and gentlemen, three shillings are only wanting to complete the sweepstake for this elegant Lady’s Morocco work box;’ that she gave him a shilling for a chance, when he asked her in what name she would have it, and she said Mrs. Goodlove; that a lady at length shuffled and cut the cards; that Mr. Walker dealt them; that the first dealt was called Mr. Bangup; that she won Pam, and got the prize; that Mr. Walker told her she had won it, and that she was to receive seven shillings in goods, or subscribe an extra sixpence, and have two chances for another box of much superior value; that she took the prize she had won, and lost two shillings in other ventures, &c.” When questioned by the Earl of Chichester, one of the magistrates, as to the real value of the prize that had been nominated at 7s., her husband whispered to her what to say; which being overheard by the Noble Earl, Mr. White was compelled instantly to quit the room, and to wait without, that he might be at hand in case he should be wanted. Mr. Adolphus (the witness being dismissed) addressed the Bench in a most able speech, concluding by producing an Act of Parliament passed in 1806, by which he clearly evinced that the present informations could not be sustained, as the said Act dispossessed magistrates of all jurisdiction and control in matters of that sort then before them. Mr. Courthorpe laboured hard, notwithstanding, to gain his point; but as his oratory had not the power to supersede an Act of Parliament, his labour was in vain. As authorities in support of the Act he produced, Mr. Adolphus was upheld by the opinion of the Attorney-General, and a decision in the Court of King’s Bench. The Magistrates, from what had been brought forward by Mr. Adolphus, saw their incompetency in so strong a light, that they dismissed the business, even without hearing the reply which Mr. Adolphus was about to make to his learned friend. There were three other informations, all of which of course were withdrawn. The librarians returned home in high spirits, and the Loo parties, subsequently, and exulting in the success of the day, were more numerous than usual.
Pam, the good genius of Loo, continued to hold sway at the libraries till 1817, when the magistrates took an antipathy towards him, owing to the unbounded patronage which he received from the ladies in general. They considered him an unwelcome resident; so, by their mandate, supported by an obsolete Act of Henry VIII., he was excommunicated from all the libraries, as, at this time he had taken up his abode at Mr. T. H. Wright’s Library, then just established at the south-west corner of Pavilion Street. Gradually, however, he resumed his position at the establishments of Lucombe and Tuppen; but notwithstanding the presiding influence of those two patterers and wits, assisted by Mr. Stacy, the present librarian at the Royal Albion Rooms, and Mr. Wheeler, the box book-keeper at the Brighton Theatre, the destruction of the fashionable promenade, by curtailing the Steine of its fair proportions, so distorted the throng and habit of fashion, that Pam fell into desuetude and the libraries, unsupported by him, became failures.
Five and twenty years since, Brighton abounded with libraries, Wright’s, in the Colonnade, North Street, removed from the Pavilion Parade, and Eber’s, in Castle Square, a branch of the London establishment, being amongst the principal of those that then existed. Furnishing food for the mind, however, was a less profitable speculation than supplying materials for the understandings, as Mr. Tozer on the former premises, and Messrs. Dutton and Thorowgood on the latter, by the sale of boots and shoes, have matured businesses that may vie with any of the same trade in the kingdom. It is somewhat remarkable, too, that a portion of the premises in Prince’s Place, occupied by Mr. Lulham, boot and shoemaker, and the house in the occupation of Messrs. Sharman and Co., North Street, as a boot and shoe mart, were the library of Mr. Taylor. These facts certainly confirm the adage,—at any rate when besieged by the multitude with a civil view,—that “there is nothing like leather.”
From time to time libraries of more or less pretensions have been started, either by private parties or by societies of membership; but most of them have become things of the past, which in their short lived career possessed nothing to warrant a recital of their history.
The oldest established now in existence is Mr. Folthorp’s North Street Library, originally Choat’s, and then Loader’s. It is admirably situated, and has a supply of books, periodicals, and newspapers equalled by no other circulating library in the county. The only proprietary literary establishments, with the exception of those attached to the several places of public worship and their schools, are the Brighton Royal Literary and Scientific Institution, Albion Rooms, to which a Chess Club is attached; the Railway Library and Scientific Institution, for the use of persons employed on the railway; and the Young Men’s Christian Association, in Middle Street. Some of the booksellers have a lending library connected with their businesses. The principal of these are Dollman’s, Western Road, and Burrett’s, Waterloo Street, Hove; Styles’s, North Street, Sugg’s St. James’s Street, and Grant’s Library and Reading Room, Castle Square. The literary character of which the Steine formerly boasted is now entirely gone, and it is content to be considered the emporium of the followers of Galen and Æsculapius, who as much there abound as the students of Coke and Blackstone throng Ship Street, and give that locality of quips, quirks, and the law’s delays the appellation of Chancery Lane.
Besides the Assembly Rooms at the Castle Tavern and the Old Ship Hotel, and the Libraries, the Theatre has been, and still is, a place of fashionable resort in Brighton. The remnant of the first Theatre ever erected in the town has recently been restored to public notice in consequence of the premises undergoing alterations in the process of converting them into ale and porter stores, by Messrs. Charlton and Co. They are situated in North Street, and are approached by a doorway between the shops of Messrs. Cunditt, jewellers, and Mr. Pritchard, confectioner. To the old inhabitants they are better known as Wallis’s wine and spirit vaults; and at a recent date they were occupied by Mr. Cordy, the son-in-law and successor of Mr. Wallis. In 1789 they were used as the printing office of Messrs. William and Arthur Lee, who in a few years removed their establishment to Lewes, and then Mr. Wallis took possession of them.
In this building David Garrick displayed his inimitable histrionic talent. The main structure and its original front have long since passed away: but the stage yet remains entire, with its several traps and appointments. An excellent portrait of Garrick till lately graced the wall, but the modern destroyer of many a work of art, whitewash, has entirely obliterated every feature of it.
Annexed is a copy of the “Bill of the Play,” in the possession of Mr. Cunditt, referring to this Theatre:—
Theatre, North-Street, Brighthelmston,
On Wednesday, October 5, 1785, will be presented,
A COMEDY, called THE
SUSPICIOUS HUSBAND.
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(From the Theatre Royal, Dublin, Being her First Appearance on this Stage.)
Dancing, between the Acts, by Master and Miss Michel.
To which will be added a FARCE, called,
WHO’S THE DUPE?
Old Doiley, |
by Mr. Follet. |
Sandford, |
by Mr. Frost. |
Granger, |
by Mr. Williams. |
And Gradus, |
by Mr. Graham, Jun. |
Miss Doiley, |
by Mrs. Bolton. |
Charlotte, |
by Miss Edgar. |
Tickets and Places for the Boxes to be taken of Mr. Baily, at the Theatre.
Doors to be opened at Six, and to begin exactly at Seven.
The Tragedy of RICHARD III, and the New Pantomime of ROBINSON CRUSOE, or, HARLEQUIN FRIDAY, (as performed for Eighty Nights, at the Theatre Royal, Drury Lane) is obliged to be postponed till Friday Evening, on account of the machinery not being quite ready.
The following are extracts from the Diary of Mr. Bew:—
1778.—Tuesday, September 1.—The Settle.—Steine.—Mr. Griffith, of Drury Lane playhouse, with much civility, conducts me to the Theatre, in North Street, in which company he is concerned, am fearful the manager is most concerned, at—the badness of the season, for there seems a plentiful lack of company. But, not to play too much upon words, it is a pretty building, something larger than that at Richmond, and seems well adapted to its intended uses.
Friday, 4.—At the Theatre.—In the evening went to Griffith’s benefit, the West Indian, by desire of Lady Mills; much, but pleasingly disappointed, because the company performed a great deal better than from information I had been taught to expect; the ladies also were, what all stage-ladies not always are,—extremely decent.
Previous to 1774 there was no other temple dedicated to Thalia and Melpomene, than a barn. The first theatre was built by the late Mr. Samuel Paine, and let in 1774, to Mr. Roger Johnstone, formerly the property-man at Covent Garden Theatre, who, having continued it for three years only, it was then leased to the late Mr. Fox, of Covent Garden Theatre also, in 1777, for the term of fifteen years, at the annual rent of sixty guineas.
It was understood, however, between the lessor and the lessee, that the former, in addition, was to have the net receipts of the house on one night, to be called his benefit night, clear of all expenses, in every succeeding year; and that his family should be free of the theatre, or possess the right of witnessing the performances there, at all times, without being liable to any charge as the consequence of their visits.
The latter stipulation was correctly introduced into the covenants of the lease, but not so the former, net profits being there stipulated instead of net receipts; the issue of which was, that Mr. Paine was called on to defray the expenses of his first benefit night, contrary to what had previously been understood, and orally agreed upon, between him and Mr. Fox.
This circumstance had nearly given rise to an unpleasant litigation between the parties; in which Mr. Paine, in all probability, would have been the sufferer, for the want of a document to establish the propriety of his claim; but such a mortification and injury he preserved himself from, by having recourse to the following expedient:—
The right of gratuitous admission to the theatre, to himself and family, as above specified, was undisputed; and as no place in the house was stipulated as the only part they should be permitted to enter in their visits, he determined to avail himself of his privilege to the full extent of its bearing. He, therefore, collected his family together, and with them entered the theatre for a succession of nights, resolutely occupying the best seats in the boxes, to the exclusion of other and more profitable applicants.
The manager, thus opposed, and law and equity pronounced by the public as both in favour of Mr. Paine, consented to ratify his first agreement, and the system of warfare adopted to harass and punish him, ceased. Before the expiration of the fifteen years’ lease the house was found inadequate to the accommodation of the increased population of the town, and a new one was erected in Duke Street. The license for the theatre was yearly obtained from the magistrates at the Quarter Sessions at Lewes; and Mr. Fox, on finishing the house in Duke Street, applied for the removal of the license to that place. His application was granted, no opposition being offered to the measure by Mr. Paine.
The latter, however, discovered the error of his non-resistance before the next application for the license became requisite, when his opposition to it was a matter of course; but which proved ineffectual from the delay, and the license was granted to the same house, on which, without opposition, it had been bestowed the year before. The family of Paine were, therefore, pecuniary sufferers of several hundred pounds per annum by this event, and for which the only compensation ever received fell short of one hundred and twenty pounds, or guineas.
On the death of Mr. Fox, the Duke Street Theatre was purchased by H. Cobb, Esq., of Clement’s Inn, who built the present house in the New Road, 1807, and removed the license thereto, having first satisfied the ground-landlord in respect to the measure.
The building had a plain front of wood, drawn out to imitate blocks of stone, unpierced with windows, and was approached by a semi-circular carriage and foot-way from the street, as it was set back from the main road to nearly the present frontage of Mr. Patching’s house, on the site of which the Theatre then stood. The projecting entrance to the Boxes, in the centre of the front, was by a Grecian portico supported by four Tuscan pillars, from which branched brackets supporting two round shaped oil lamps. The buildings abutting east and west had also similar lamps. The Pit and Gallery entrances were on the east side, approached by an external passage, that had a door, over which was painted “Pit and Gal.” The stage door was a little to the west of the principal entrance, where the word “Boxes” was conspicuously painted. Five posts divided the footway on each side of the portico. A print of the Theatre was published in London, April 1st, 1804, by T. Woodfall, Villiers’ Street, Strand, and several figures therein exhibit the peculiar fashion of the day in dress. The license to this Theatre Royal was granted by a special Act of Parliament, which passed in the year 1788.
An anecdote connected with this Theatre, and noted in “Brighton Past and Present,” by Mrs. Merrifield, is worthy of quotation:—“It was during the time that Fox was manager that the celebrated Mrs. Jordan trod these boards as an actress. A friend of mine, who sometimes visited the green room, one day found her in great distress, threatened by a Sheriff’s Officer, on account of the debt of an extravagant brother. Mrs. Jordan solicited my friend to become surety for her. ‘When I went into the room,’ said my friend, ‘I thought her one of the plainest little women I had ever seen, but I had not been in her company half-an-hour before I thought her charming.’ It is almost unnecessary to say that he complied with her request, and relieved this fascinating actress from her embarassment; nor had he cause to repent of his goodnature, for Mrs. Jordan paid the debt as soon as she was able, and thus released him from his engagement.”
Annexed is a copy of a bill of the performance at this theatre:
For the Benefit of
Mr. PALMER, JUN.,
The last night but Two of performing this Season.
Theatre, Brighton,
On Wednesday, October 15th, 1794, will be presented, the popular play of
THE JEW.
Sheva (for that night only,) |
by Mr. Bannister, jun. |
From the Theatre Royal, Drury Lane. |
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Sir Stephen Bertram |
by Mr. Dormer. |
Charles Ratcliffe |
by Mr. Palmer, jun. |
by Mr. Simpson. |
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Frederick |
by Mr. Palmer. |
From the Theatre Royal, Drury Lane,—positively the last time of his performing here this Season. |
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Eliza |
by Mrs. Simpson. |
(End of the Play.)
A Comic Medley, by Mr. Edwin.
After which, the Farce of
THE VILLAGE LAWYER.
Sheepface (for that night only,) |
by Mr. Parsons. |
From the Theatre Royal, Drury Lane. |
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Snarl |
by Mr. Simpson. |
Scout |
by Mr. Bannister, jun. |
The whole to conclude with the
favourite Entertainment of
THE LYAR.
Young Wilding |
by Mr. Palmer. |
Papillion |
by Mr. Palmer, jun. |
Miss Grantham |
by Mrs. Palmer, jun. |
Being her first appearance. |
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*** The Nobility, Gentry, and Public are respectfully informed that, on account of the great call for places, part of the Pit will (for that night) be laid into the Boxes.
Tickets to be had, and places for the Boxes taken, of Mr. Palmer, jun., No. 11, Russell Street, and at the Theatre, from Ten till Three o’clock.
The returns for the house on the occasion were:—
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£. |
s. |
d. |
Six Box Tickets |
1 |
4 |
0 |
Fifteen Pit ditto |
1 |
10 |
0 |
Two Gallery ditto |
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2 |
0 |
Taken at doors |
7 |
8 |
0 |
Total |
£10 |
4 |
0 |
The “Brighton New Guide,” 1800, published by Fisher, Old Steine, says: “The scenes are painted by Mr. Carver, of Covent-Garden Theatre, and they do honour to the abilities of that ingenious artist; and if the abilities of the actors are not sufficiently powerful to excite the enthusiasm of applause, they are not so contemptible as to create disgust. Candour must acknowledge, that the theatrical business at Brighthelmston is conducted with great regularity, and that if perfection is not reached, mediocrity is surpassed.”
In 1672, a tax on plays was proposed; but the court party objected to it. They said the players were the King’s servants, and administered to his pleasures. Sir John Coventry pleasantly asked, “Whether the King’s pleasures lay among the male or the female actors?” Charles, who, besides his other mistresses, entertained two actresses, Mrs. Davis and Nell Gwynne, was hurt by this sarcasm, and took an unworthy revenge. Some of his guards attacked Coventry, and slit his nose. The Commons expressed their indignation, by passing what is called the Coventry Act, by which maiming and deforming were made capital crimes, and those persons who had assaulted Coventry were rendered incapable of receiving the King’s pardon.
In July, 1805, when the Prince of Wales bestowed his patronage upon the Duke Street Theatre, and first attached to it the gracious adjective, “Royal,” great improvements were effected in the house, those in his Royal Highness’s box particularly so: blue panels, with sparkling gold stars, on a dark ground, and ornamented with festoons of roses, superbly distinguished it; a crimson curtain of velvet depending from the ceiling also heightened the effect, and gave an indescribable appearance of grandeur to the whole. The box was also carpeted throughout, and handsome painted chairs with cushions in lieu of fixed seats, made part of its furniture.
On the 13th of August, 1805, a piece was produced in honour of the birthday of the Prince of Wales, and was called The Twelfth of August. The plot of the piece was: “Sofa Hazleby,” the daughter of an opulent farmer, a resident of Brighton, who has numerous suitors, has promised to become the bride of him who can give the best solution to a question which she will submit to their consideration on the Green, on the Twelfth of August; and the reason she assigns for choosing that day for a decision so momentous to her, is because it gave birth to England’s Heir,—a Prince whose suavity of manners, benevolence of heart, and mental endowments have rendered him the pride of his country and the admiration of Europe. “That auspicious morn,” she continues, “could but appear to me as most grateful and best adapted to my purpose, in which every honest countenance I might gaze at should be brightened with exulting smiles.”—The preceding part of the drama being over, in which her eccentric suitors afforded much mirth to the audience, the final scene presents a supposed view of the South Downs, and the entrance of Brighton, the latter brilliantly illuminated, the initials P. W., the feathers, and a blazing star, being appropriately conspicuous.
In 1799, Mr. Alexander Archer was manager of the Duke Street Theatre. Upon stripping the paper from the walls of 34, Bond Street, on the 20th of May, in the present year, to effect some alterations, a relic in the character of a “play bill,” was brought to light. It is thus worded: “Engagement of Mr. Quick. Doors open at half-past six. Begin precisely at 7 o’clock. Mr. Quick’s fifth night. Theatre Brighthelmston. On Tuesday, July 13th, 1802, will be performed the admired comedy of She Stoops to Conquer; the part of ‘Tony Lumpkin,’ by Mr. Quick. After which will be added St. Patrick’s-Day, or the Scheming Lieutenant. Lee, Printer, Brighton.” The house had just been vacated by the descendants of Johnson, who for many years was the bill-sticker of the town. The first stone of the present Theatre was laid on the 24th of September, 1806, by Mr. Brunton, senr.; and the building was opened on Saturday, the 6th of June, 1807, with the tragedy of Hamlet, when Mr. and Mrs. Charles Kemble represented the Prince and Ophelia.
The Brighton Ambulator—a publication almost extinct,—thus speaks of the present theatre as it was when opened by the first lessee, Mr. Trotter:—
the theatre.
This place of public amusement is situated in the New Road, leading into North Street. It is a very handsome structure, having a colonnade, which runs along its whole front, supported by neat stone pillars. The entrance into the Boxes is in the centre; and that to the Pit is on the right, and the Gallery on the left of the building.
The interior has two tier of boxes. The Prince Regent’s box is on the left of the stage, divided from the other boxes by an iron lattice work, gilded, which gives it a pleasing and private appearance. The pit and gallery are well constructed for the audience, particularly the latter, which has a prominent view of the stage.
The house is illuminated by nine cut-glass chandeliers, and a range of patent lamps at the foot of the stage. The stage is exceedingly convenient, and has a length proportioned to the structure. The whole is fitted up with a tasteful elegance, and we must acknowledge, that it reflects honour on the discriminate judgment of Mr. Trotter, the manager.
This account of the theatre describes it as it was more than half a century since; as of late years it has been, externally and internally, greatly modernized: although the chief lighting attraction in its transition from oil and wax to gas, a noble and well supplied chandelier, which was lowered and raised at pleasure over the centre of the pit, has long since been removed, the light from it detracting from the scenic effect, and the great heat which it disseminated militating against the comfort of the audience, especially the “gods.”
The present Owner of the property is George Cobb, Esq., an Alderman of the Borough of Brighton, who, a few years since, purchased of the executors of the late Sir Thomas Clarges the moiety which that baronet held.
Sir Thomas, in his latter days, was what is modernly termed, a little “cracky” in the cranium. Just about the period of the murder of the Italian boy, by Bishop and Williams, when pitch plasters were in vogue, and were as much terrors in the public mind as garottings now are, Sir Thomas had a pony which he imagined was unwell, and beyond the aid of veterinary skill. He therefore, with the manual service of his groom, undertook to cure it himself, and thus proceeded:—He procured a sheet of canvass, which he spread with a composition of pitch, tar, and tallow, and in this cere-cloth he encased the body of the animal, and twice daily, in the midst of Summer, took it, with merely a horse-cloth over it, on the Race-hill and submitted it to severe exercise, the groom walking it briskly, and himself riding beside it on horseback for two hours at a stretch. His intention was to pursue this course till all the virtue in the composition would become absorbed by the afflicted system of the animal, when its cure would be effected and the canvass would of its own accord drop off. The severity, however, of the process, was too much for the poor creature; for having borne the punishment somewhat more than a week, one morning, when Sir Thomas and his man went to the stable in Rock Mews, where a box had been specially fitted up, the straight-jacketed small edition of a horse was a stiffened corpse.
Immediately previous to her retirement from the stage, Mrs. Siddons filled an engagement here for three nights, namely, Tuesday, August 8th, 1809, as “Mrs. Beverley” in The Gamester, [214] Tuesday, 15th, as “Lady Macbeth,” and on Thursday, 18th, as “Isabella,” in the tragedy of that name. The receipts of the house for the 15th, amounted to £172 16s, a sum by far exceeding that which the Theatre could boast of having held on any night previous. On August 29th, she also appeared as “Margaret of Anjou,” in the tragedy of Earl of Warwick, for the benefit of Mr. Murray, on which occasion the receipts amounted to £150 5s; and on September 12th, as “Lady Macbeth,” for the benefit of Mr. Cresswell. On the last occasion Mr. Charles Kemble, for the first time on any stage, made his appearance as “Macbeth.” Every actor of celebrity has trodden the boards of the Brighton Theatre, which has been the nursery for supplying many first-rate performers to the patent houses of the Metropolis. At a Masquerade which took place here, October 8th, 1812, a great disturbance arose in consequence of Theodore Hook and his friends appearing unmasked.
The several lessees have been Mr. Trotter, Mr. Grove, Mr. Brunton, sen.,—father of the late Dowager Countess of Craven, who at the time of her marriage was acting on the stage of this Theatre, in her father’s company,—Messrs. Jonas and Penley, Mr. (Romeo) Coates, Mr. John Brunton, jun., Mr. (Jerry) Russell,—when the house was open only on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays,—Messrs. Bew and Vining, Mr. Charles Hill, Messrs. Walton and Holmes,—a commonwealth,—Messrs. Saville and Harroway, Mr. Hooper, Mr. Poole, Captain Belcour, Mr. H. Farren, and the present respected lessee, Mr. H. Nye Chart. Formerly, the season extended from July to October; now the house usually continues open from the latter end of July until the beginning of March.
Upon the completion of the present Theatre in the New Road, a permanent building for a Circus was erected on the Grand Parade, between Carlton Street and the weigh-bridge, which, for obtaining the weight of the loads in the waggons and carts that traversed the turnpike road to Lewes, stood at the spot that forms the bottom of Sussex Street. It was completed by Messrs. Kendall and Co., and opened in August, 1808. The building had a frontage of neat design, in width one hundred feet, which was also its depth, that extended into Circus Street. A wing to the north of the Circus was appropriated for a billiard lounge, confectionary, &c.; and the corresponding wing to the south for a coffee-house and hotel. The representation of a prancing horse surmounted the centre of the structure.
The only incident worthy of record which took place in this building during the few years that it was devoted to equestrian exhibitions, was an accident which befel the daughter of the lessee, Mr. Saunders, on the evening of Monday, August 28th, 1809, on the occasion of a bespeak of the Duke of Marlborough, when, while riding round the ring, which was thirty-six feet in diameter, Miss Saunders lost her equilibrium and fell. She was borne away insensible, amidst the intense anxiety of a most fashionable audience. The announcement, however, of the Acting Manager, Mr. Clark, that she had received but a slight injury, gave a salutary relief to all present. At her benefit, which took place on the previous Thursday, under the patronage of Lord and Lady Somerset, the house was crowded in every part.
In 1812 the Circus closed from want of support, and for a few years the premises were occupied as a Bazaar, a speculation which was quite a failure, although every inducement in the way of loos, lotteries, and lucky-bags, was introduced, with occasional displays of fireworks and the ascents of fire-balloons from the parade ground opposite, now the extreme north Enclosure. At that period, and for some years afterwards, the land northward from the Pavilion boundary wall to the Level was enclosed with posts and rails in areas like the present, and formed a public promenade, and the parade ground of the military. How it became enclosed with iron railings and planted with trees and flowers, to the exclusion of the inhabitants, has never been satisfactorily explained. Occasionally attempts have been made to investigate the business; but inasmuch as money is required for such a purpose, and the majority of the ratepayers are contented with the excellent manner the Enclosures are conducted, they allow the Trustees who have possessed themselves of the right, to continue in undisturbed possession.
From time to time since the demolition of the Grand Parade Circus, various troupes of equestrians have visited Brighton. Saunders’s was the first, his exhibition, which took place on the present site of St. George’s Place, being termed a Mountebank performance, and consisting, besides feats of horsemanship, of such tricks as are witnessed in shows at fairs and races. On Thursday evening, June 21st, 1821, from six to eight thousand persons assembled to witness the equestrian exploits, &c., of this company. In the midst of the amusements one of the scaffoldings, on which were nearly a hundred persons,—men, women, and children,—gave way, and the whole fell to the ground, a depth of about four or five feet. Many persons received severe bruises, and Mr. Siller, of His Majesty’s private band, had his leg broken in two places. The chief prop of the scaffolding was some slight paling, the yielding of which to the great pressure above occasioned the accident, which, under the circumstances, might have produced far more serious results, as many persons were immediately under it at the moment. Cook and Bridges—familiarly known to the juveniles of the time as “Cook and Breeches,”—afterwards came and took up their position on the Level; and then followed Ryan, Cooke, Batty, Tournaire, &c., in more or less permanent buildings; followed by the flying visits of troupes in mammoth tents. The last erection for the exhibition of horsemanship, and that still in existence, is the affair in Sussex Street, the hitherto success of which is evidence that the intelligent portion of the community have not failed to appreciate the talent which has been produced.
The primitive state of Brighthelmston, both as respects the condition and habits of the inhabitants and the position and style of the habitations, must to a considerable extent be left to conjecture, as there is no doubt the great changes which have taken place in and about the town to give it the importance which it at present possesses as England’s “Queen of Watering Places,” have all been effected within the last 150 years.
An engraving in “The Antiquities of England and Wales,” published in 1775, [218] showing the ruins of the Blockhouse at that period, gives a representation of the houses on the Cliff at the spot whereon now stand the Old Ship Hotel and the premises adjacent. The south end of Black-lion Street is very conspicuous, the corner houses consisting only of dwellings one story in height, of a cottage or hovel-like appearance, very singular in architectural design when compared with the present noble block of buildings of Messrs. Hedges and Butler, the wine merchants, on the east side.
The author of a “Tour through Great Britain,” date, 1724, says:—“Bright Helmston, commonly called Bredhemston, is a poor fishing town, old built, and on the very edge of the sea. The fishermen have large barks, in which they go away to Yarmouth, on the coast of Norfolk, to the fishing fair there, and hire themselves for the season to catch herrings for the merchants; and they tell us that these make a very good business of it. The sea is very unkind to this town, and has, by its continued encroachments, so gained upon it that in a little time more they might reasonably expect it would eat up the whole town, above one hundred houses having been devoured by the water in a few years past; and they are now obliged to get a brief granted them to beg money all over England, to raise banks against the water; the expense of which, the brief expressly says, will be eight thousand pounds; which, if one were to look on the town, would seem to be more than all the houses in it are worth.”
The Rev. William Clarke, Rector of Buxted, and grandfather of the celebrated traveller, thus writes to his friend:—
Brighthelmston, July 22, 1736.
Dear Bowyer,
We are now sunning ourselves upon the beach at Brighthelmston, and observing what a tempting figure this Island made formerly in the eyes of those gentlemen who were pleased to civilize and subdue it. Such a tract of sea; such regions of corn; and such an extent of fine carpet, that gives your eye the command of it all. But then the mischief is, that we have little conversation besides the clamor nauticus, which is here a sort of treble to the plashing of the waves against the cliffs. My morning business is bathing in the sea, and then buying fish; the evening is riding out for air, viewing the remains of old Saxon camps, and counting the ships in the road, and the boats that are trawling. Sometimes we give the imagination leave to expatiate a little;—fancy that you are coming down, and that we intend next week to dine one day in Dieppe, in Normandy; the price is already fixed, and the wine and lodgings there tolerably good. But though we build these castles in the air, I assure you that we live here almost underground. I fancy the architects here usually take the altitude of the inhabitants, and lose not an inch between the head and the ceiling, and then dropping a step or two below the surface, the second story is finished something under 12 feet. I suppose this was a necessary precaution against storms, that a man should not be blown out of his bed into New England, Barbary, or God knows where. But as the lodgings are low they are cheap; we have two parlours, two bed chambers, pantry, &c., for 5s per week; and if you will really come down you need not fear a bed of the proper dimensions. And then the coast is safe; the cannons are all covered with rust and grass; the ships moored, and no enemy apprehended. Come and see.
Nec tela temeres
Gallica, nec Pictum tremeres nec littore toto
Prospiceres dubiis ventura Saxona ventis.My wife does not forget her good wishes and compliments upon this occasion. How you would surprise all your friends in Fleet Street, to tell them you were just come from France, with a vivacity that everybody would believe to be just imported from thence!
In this year, 1736, the poor rates were eight pence in the pound on the rack rent, “which was then,” says Dunvan, “an intolerable burthen.” About this time visitors of distinction began annually, in Summer, as soon as the deep roads of Sussex became passable with any degree of convenience, to frequent the town; but lodging-houses had not then been put in requisition, the only accommodation being a few indifferent inns; and the principal diversions were hunting, occasional horse-racing, and water excursions.
About the year 1750 the medical use of sea-water in scrofulous and other glandular complaints, under the unwearied and successful attention of Dr. Richard Russell, who removed hither from his seat at Malling, near Lewes, established his fame and also that of the town all over the kingdom. He may in truth be considered the founder of Brighton’s greatness; and it is much to be regretted that the inhabitants while appreciating the laudable services and good qualities of modern Royal and Noble patrons, and perpetuating individual virtues by works of art in marble and on canvass, have hitherto omitted to mark their gratitude to the memory of the learned Doctor, there being amongst the treasures of the town no memento whatever of him. His portrait, it is true, graces the Telemachus room of the Old Ship Hotel, but it might as well be stowed away in the ex-clock tower of the Pavilion, so rarely have the public an opportunity of seeing it. This hint perhaps may induce the possessor of the portrait to make a present of it to the Corporation, who have recently received several additions by gift to their choice collection of paintings.
The erection of lodging-houses soon became a profitable speculation in Brighton, and that late obscure fishing village began to increase in population and celebrity. The wonderful success of the industry and discernment of Dr. Russell appeared by several cases of cures which he cited in his work, “A Dissertation on the use of Sea-water;” and the most eminent members of the faculty in England bore willing testimony to the great acuteness and utility of his professional investigations. The benefits which the diseased have ever since received from sea-water are, therefore, in a great measure, to be imputed to the medical labours and sagacity of this good man, in grateful commemoration of whom the proprietors of a new street,—the first that was erected, composed principally of lodging-houses for the accommodation of invalid visitors,—named it after him, Russell Street, many of the original houses of which that still remain, though now occupied by a different class of persons than those for whom they were designed, show the improvement that had then taken place in house property. The Rev. Dr. Mannington, of Jevington, in the following epigram, simply, yet elegantly estimates the philanthropical abilities of Dr. Russell:—
Clara per omne ævum Russelli fama manebit,
Dum retinet vires unda marina suas.
Thus translated:—
Admiring ages Russell’s fame shall know,
Till ocean’s healing waters cease to flow.
Dr. Russell’s son, William—afterwards Mr. Sergeant Kempe, on assuming the name of his maternal grandfather,—however, who appeared to have been one of the wits of the town at that period, by the following lines, knew the limit of his father’s skill:—
Dr. Russell died in 1759, aged 72 years, and was interred in the family vault at South Malling, on the 25th of December. He was the son of Mr. Nathaniel Russell, a surgeon and apothecary of Lewes, and clandestinely married the only daughter of Mr. William Kempe, of South Malling. After his marriage he studied at the University of Leyden, and received instruction under the learned Boerhaave. His death took place in London. Dr. A. Relhan was his worthy successor, inasmuch as he fully developed the causes of the salubrity of Brighton, the invaluable efficacy of sea-bathing, and the medical virtues of the chalybeate spring, at the Wick, now the property of Sir Francis Goldsmid. In his “Treatise on the Salubrity of the Town and Neighbourhood,” the Doctor writes:—
The town, (June, 1761,) at present consists of six principal streets, many lanes, and some spaces surrounded with houses, called by the inhabitants squares. [221] The great plenty of flint stones on the shore and in the neighbouring cornfields, enabled them to build the walls of their houses with that material, when in their most impoverished state. At present they ornament the windows and doors with the admirable brick which they burn for their own use. The town improves daily, as the inhabitants, encouraged by the late great resort of company, seem disposed to expend the whole of what they acquire, in erecting new buildings, or improving the old ones. Here are two public rooms, the one convenient, the other not only so, but elegant, (the Old Ship), not excelled perhaps by any in England, that of York excepted.
The endemial or popular disorders of temperate people being the product of air and diet, the best proof of the healthfulness of the air of any place is deduced from the customary longevity of the inhabitants, and the rate of the Bills of Mortality. By the poor’s rate of this parish, there are 400 families in Brighton, each of these may be supposed to contain five souls (the common calculation in England is six in a family), and consequently the number of inhabitants, exclusive of those supported in the work-house, who, at a medium, amounted to 35, may be estimated at 2,000.
In seven years, beginning with 1753, and 1752, the baptisms were 388, and the burials 227; so that the baptisms were annually to the deaths, nearly as five to three.
But as the dissenters are nearly a tenth of the whole, I may be allowed to add to the number of baptisms 35 for the seven years, which is five annually, and nearly a-tenth, and makes the whole of the baptisms 423 to 227 burials. By this the baptisms are annually to the deaths as 60 to 32, which is nearly two births to one death. In London there is annually a death in every 32 persons, which is nearly two to one in favour of Brighton.
With regard to the sea water at this place, it appears by experiments that in Summer (weather tolerably dry) there are in every pint of it at least five drachms and fifteen grains of defecated salt; about five of bittern, or a decomposed earth, attracting humidity from the air; and six grains of white calcarious earth. This proportion of clean contents, being nearly a twenty-third of the whole, is as great, or perhaps greater, than is to be found in the sea water of any other port in England, and must be owing to its peculiar distance from the rivers, it being further from such, I apprehend, than any other sea port in England.
Dr. Coe, writing in 1766, says:—“Brighton is a small ill-built town, situated on the sea-coast, at present greatly resorted to in the Summer season by persons labouring under various diseases, for the benefit of sea bathing, and drinking sea water; and by the gay and polite on account of the company which frequent it at this season. Until within a few years it was no better than a mere fishing town, inhabited by fishermen and sailors; but through the recommendation of Dr. Russell, and his writings in favour of sea water, it has become one of the principal places in the kingdom. It contains six principal streets, five of which are parallel with each other, and are terminated by the sea, namely, East Street, Black-lion Street, Ship Street, Middle Street, and West Street; and North Street runs along the other ends of the five, from the Assembly Rooms, kept by Mr. Shergold, almost to the Church.”
The Rev. William Gilpin, [222] in his “Observations on the Coasts of Hampshire, Sussex, and Kent,” made in the summer of 1774, observes:—“Soon after, we reached Brighthelmstone, a disagreeable place. There is scarcely an object either in it or near it of nature or of art, that strikes the eye with any degree of beauty,” and then in a somewhat contradictory manner, adds:—“One of the most picturesque sights we met with at Brighthelmstone, was the sailing of a fleet of mackarel-boats to take their evening station for fishing, which they commonly continue through the night. The sun was just setting when all appeared to be alive. Every boat began to weigh anchor and unmoor. It was amusing to see them under so many different forms. Some in a still calm with flagging sails, were obliged to assist their motion with oars; others were just getting into the breeze, which rippled the water around them, and began gently to swell their sails; while the fleet, the water, and the whole horizon, glowed with one rich harmonious tint from the setting sun.”
Mrs. P. Hill, in her “Apology,” [223]—now a very rare work,—in 1787, five years after the Prince of Wales first honoured the town with his presence, complains of the “doors opening direct into the sittings rooms,” and of the “inconvenience of not being able to be ‘out’ to any visitor.”
Bew writes, Sunday, August 30th, 1778:—“This town is built on spots, in patches, and for want of regularity does not appear to advantage: every man, as to building, seems to have done what appeared right in his own eyes. Here is no magistracy: if there is an affray, the parties must go as far as Lewes, which is much the prettier town, to have it settled. Upon recollection, this town may be quieter for having no trading justices resident on the spot. Am since informed, a gentleman in the commission of the peace attends here occasionally from Lewes.—There can be no antiquities; for Brighthelmston was only a small obscure village, occupied by fishermen, till silken Folly and bloated Disease, under the auspices of a Dr. Russell, deemed it necessary to crowd the shore, and fill the inhabitants with contempt for their visitors.” In his “Diary,” also, Tuesday, September 7th, 1779, he writes:—“Am viewing my worthy friend, Mr. Bull’s house, or rather box, upon the Clift, between Ship Street and Black-lion Street.—He beckons me in, and shews it throughout. It is one pretty room to the height of three stories, with a semicircular window comprising most of the front, and on each floor overlooking the sea all ways, which makes the situation most delightful. The ground whereon it stands is copyhold—indeed the ground in and about Brighton is mostly so—measuring nearly eighteen feet square. The fine is both certain and small. About fifty years ago, this piece of land was sold for four pounds; thirty years since, a purchaser gave eleven; and about this time two years, the Alderman bought it for one hundred pounds to build upon.” The premises here referred to are 35, King’s road, those in the occupation of Mr. Ridley, boot and shoe maker. In the same Diary, date Monday, September 7th, 1778, he remarks: “Mr Alderman Bull, of London, is building a house on the Clift; a semicircular window is in each story. Am told he meets with many obstacles in the execution of his design.—Surely it is to the interest of these people (meaning the inhabitants) to have such men become resident among them; but he is denied a convenient entrance to his building. A cellar window to the adjoining house projects before his street door.”
That Brighton at the present day possesses fine architectural features cannot be denied. The magnificent Squares and Crescents which flank its sea-frontage, and even form part of the frontage, possess strong claims on our admiration, especially when we glance at the general state and style of architecture of our time, and reflect upon the rapid rise and development of the town—looking to what it was and considering what it is.
During the close of the last, and the beginning of this century, architecture had reached its lowest ebb in England. Our true indigenous Gothic had almost passed into a tradition: the Classic models, from their extreme ill-adaptation to our climate, had undergone such deterioration, that the application of the term even to the best of later works was an absurdity. The influence of Sir Christopher Wren had been of the most baneful character; not that he was himself deficient in genius, but that his style, which hardly attains to grandeur even in the Metropolitan Cathedral, was of a character which inevitably degenerated in feeble hands. Thus it happened that we were left almost without a national style, or, at least with one utterly devoid of intrinsic merit of any kind. The churches and other public buildings were erected upon no principles; and in accordance only with the taste, or want of taste, in the architect, who no longer represented an Art, but devoted himself to a Profession.
Of course, when all the higher and more important offices of architecture were thus indifferently served, it was not to be expected that street-architecture would fare very happily. Our streets, in fact, gradually lost all their picturesqueness and variety of the olden times, and gained neither dignity nor beauty. Complacent builders shrugged their shoulders in pity at ancestors who had covered houses with roofs like over-sized wigs; or had recourse to hanging stories one projecting over the other until the light of heaven only stole into the streets through a narrow aperture above the road. But though these things were quaint and barbarous, there was a something about them which had in it the sense of beauty,—something which makes one even now prefer the High Street of Eastgrinstead to the latest built, the most elegant and supernaturally genteel of our modern terraces.
This, however, has only just begun to be felt, and when Brighton rose like a dream upon the remains of a fishing village, none of these things were thought of. People had certainly discernment enough to see that the rude village style would not do. A visitor of Dr. Russell’s time describes Brighton houses as consisting of one or more stories, and with the door-ways so low that you must stoop to enter, and then probably stumble down a step or two into the sitting room. A person has only to go into the Twittens, the narrow lanes between Middle Street and Black Lion Street, to witness even now such illustrations. The Railway booking office, in Castle Square, is a specimen of the architecture of Brighton after this period; and under George IV. it was beginning its marvellous development.
This sort of thing it soon became necessary to alter, and year after year saw the gradual improvement in the streets of the town. But though this resulted in fine streets, and in lofty and commodious houses, the element of beauty was always wanting, simply because there was nothing like a principle in the minds of builders. They had some vague notions of the Palladian oracles, of a bastard Italian, a debased Renaissance, applicable to dwelling-houses; but the results of the application were and have been, up to the present time, deplorable.
Brighton is not alone in this matter,—indeed, it rises superior to very many of its compeers; but when its position and infinite diversity of sight are reflected upon, there cannot fail to be regrets upon the Brighton it might have been. Supposing, for example, that an earlier recognition of the claims of Gothic and an English style had taken place. Suppose that the public buildings, instead of being of the packing case order in beauty—hollow cubes with a sham frontage of stuccoed pilasters—had presented the variety in structure and beauty in detail which is found in a minor degree in St. Peter’s Church. Suppose further that the streets, instead of having, as at present, flat, level surfaces, without a line of beauty in themselves, without a curve or an angle to reflect the sunshine or hold the shadow, which is so exquisite, had retained even the quaintness of early times, what a town Brighton would have been! No continental town could, from its very situation and the formation of the ground upon which it stands, have exceeded it in picturesque loveliness. And short of this, even had the purer Italian models been followed, had builders attempted such erections as those of Palmeira Square, or those of the Pavilion Buildings,—and they are the best specimens of that class of street architecture which we possess,—the result would have been a grandeur and a beauty which would have left the visitor no ground for a moment’s doubt that Brighton is indeed the “Queen of Watering Places.”