Brighton a.k.a London-by-the -Sea

A setting well-known to lovers of Regency novels, Brighton, on Britain’s Sussex coast, is synonymous with profligate prince whose patronage made the town famous: the Prince Regent, the future George IV. Unpopular though he was with most of his father’s subjects because of his heavy debts — money was definitely no object with him — and the mistreatment of his wife, the overweight heir to the throne was greeted with pealing church bells whenever he visited the town.

courtesy Royal Pavilion & Museum, Brighton & Hove City Council
1812 print poking fun at the Prince Regent’s efforts to disguise his obesity.

The  Marine Pavilion,  the prince’s holiday home, like his London one, Carlton House, underwent several alterations and refurbishments during his 40-year patronage of Brighton. The pavilion’s final incarnation — Indian-like onion domes and Chinese style interior, a building looking like

The Marine Pavilion, Brighton, about 1790. An army encampment is in the middle ground.

something from the Arabian Nights — is the one that is seen today.

The war with the French from 1792 until 1815, and Napoleon’s conquest of Europe meant that wealthy Britons could no longer travel on that continent. They were forced to find alternative venues for their pleasure in their own country. And in the late 18th century Dr. Russell of  nearby Lewes published a tract extolling the healthful properties of sea water, both to bathe in — and to drink!   A favourite resort of  the Prince of Wales’ father George III was Weymouth. There, every time the king emerged from his dip in the sea, a small orchestra  played the National Anthem; thus causing others on the beach to get to their feet and  the men to remove their hats.

These circumstance led to the development of Brighton and other seaside towns as holiday venues for those who could afford to visit. The Prince Regent first went to Brighton seeking relief for his painful glands. He stayed with his uncle the Duke of Cumberland, whose love of cards and high-flying life matched his own.  Fashionable society soon followed him there, a population explosion creating a housing boom expanding the town north and east. Used to the many amenities and pleasures of  London, the visitors expected their needs tone met in Brighton, and their were entrepreneurs to cater to their whims.

courtesy Brighton Pavilion & Museum, Brighton & Hove City Council
The Castle Inn, Brighton, during the Regency.

Brighton boasted two inns — The Castle and The Ship — with assembly rooms for weekly balls and cards during the season, a Master of Ceremonies, a theatre, circulating libraries, a grammar school, indoor  baths , charming villas to rent or buy, and more than twenty coaches a day joining the heavy traffic on the London to Brighton Road.

There was one thing that London-by-the- Sea had that its dirty, smokey namesake did not: sea bathing and the bracing sea air.  Borne down to the water’s edge in horse-drawn wooden bathing huts on wheels, the bathers were helped into the water by male and female “dippers, two of  whom became very well known: Martha Gunn and ‘Smoaker’ Miles. Men and women had separate beaches, the women covering themselves in flannel bathing gowns — the men  bathed naked.

 

 

 

 

 

History stinks

Judging from the title to this blog you might think that I don’t like history.  That isn’t the case.  I like history; I always have, even in school.   I was a docent at Canada’s Museum of Civilization, now referred to as theMuseum of History, and I have also written  an historical novel, A Jacketing Concern.

So no, I don’t dislike history,  but it definitely stinks, and I’m not the only one who thinks so. Just type in to your browser “history stinks or “smells” or “odours” and you’ll discover a number of websites devoted to aromas of the past both foul and sweet.  For instance, some medieval latrines that were recently discovered in Denmark still  smell after 700 years. Phew!.  And in 1858 the Great Stink  resulting from hot weather and untreated human waste on the the banks of the  River Thames affected the working of the British House of Parliament.  Curtains on the riverside of the building were soaked  in lime chloride but even so the  library and committee rooms were unusable. It took an engineering project that lasted from 1859 to 1875 to rectify the problem.

Historians are now taking more interest in the olafactory aspects of the past. Last year an olfactory archeology exhibition was staged in downtown San Francisco  and  visitors were able to inhale the smell of cities of the past such as 18th century Paris.

It  has  been  said “History is another country.” Now  I love to travel  whether figuratively  or  physically; and if you are like me   when you visit a   foreign country, you enjoy experiencing it through your five  senses —  seeing, feeling, hearing , tasting and smelling  all that is new. Entering that “country” to research and write historical novels there is so much that your  can show your characters  experiencing through their  senses that adds atmosphere to your story.  Of those five senses it seems to me that smell is the one that gets shorter shrift than the others.  There were so many smells both pleasant and unpleasant back when that are now absent in the hermetically-sealed world of today.

For instance;  the all-pervading smell of horses and horse dung,  coal fires, human waste thrown into the streets, garbage, rotting sewage, unwashed bodies, bad breath, the blood shed in fights and war, gunpowder, cooking,  rotting meat and fish,spoilt food; on the other side of the coin there were the scents of new mown hay, flower  gardens,  delicious food, meadows, forests, perfumes used to cover  the odour of unwashed bodies, the smells of the earth and the sea, wood fires,  bread baking, newly washed linen, potpourri…

T he list goes on  — a list that is nothing a writer of historical fiction can afford to turn up her nose at!  ( The pun is intended, by the way.

 

 

The first blogger?

One of  my regular morning activities along with that first cuppa tea as I do the crossword puzzles in the National Post and the Ottawa Sun newspapers is to read    the daily extract from the diary of Samuel Pepys, which he kept for about ten years during the 17th century,  on the Post’s puzzle page

If Samuel were alive today I am sure he would be an avid blogger,  for his diary entries included not only his experience of the great events of his day —  Charles II’s  return to England from exile , the Great Plague and the Great Fire of London —  but the minutiae of his personal life, including marital spats, the meals he ate and his sexual experiences with women other than his wife. The disruptions  he experienced from home renovations struck a chord, I having had the same problems during my own home reno.

There are many things I like about Samuel. He was a sociable, jovial man, a bon vivant, musical and an avid theatregoer (he really liked Nell Gwynne); and he was also an hardworking civil servant (secretary to the navy),who cared about the state of his country.

On the downside if he were alive to day, Samuel would no doubt  be facing a variety of sexual charges.  His sexual encounters with other women were numerous and he detailed  in a mixture of foreign words so that no one could read them. Such behaviour seemed to be accepted at the time by almost everyone, particularly the king, who had a bevy of mistresses. Samuel wrote his diary in a form of shorthand so no one else could read that, too.