BRIGHTON

Evening Star, Issue 22069, 1 July 1935, Page 12

BRIGHTON

IK DAYS OF PRINCE REGENT The town of Brighton stands in a class by itself. It has a great history, and to-day, while it attracts the. big crowds, its health-giving air is not overlooked by the well-to-do, whether in society, city* or political circles. Brighton, as Mr Osbert Sitwell-and Mrs Margaret Barton show in their book, 1 Brighton,’ has been famous since Charles 11. escaped to France—for he spent his last night there when Brighton was a village—but it owes its prosperity to the Prince Regent, who later became George IY, “ Indeed, since George IV. had ascended the throne,” write the authors, “the ‘ witticisms .and conjectures’ inspired by the Pavilion had grown in number j e this pot-bellied minaret mushroom—this gilded dirtpie —this congerie of bulbous excrescences ’ are only a few of the fanciful terms applied to so delightful and original a pleasure house. Hazlitt, for instance, as he looked at it. was reminded of a collection of stone pumpkins and pepper boxes. ‘lt seems,’ he wrote, ‘ as 'if the genius of architecture had at once the dropsy and the megrims ’; Cobbett thought of a parcel of cradle spits, of various dimensions, sticking up out of the mouth of so many enormous squab decanters; and .Westmacott likened it to a ‘ banquet table, covered with the usual plate and glass enrichments.’ But all these epigrammatic opinions have been forgotten. overshadowed by the remark of that daring, facetious clergyman, Sydney Smith, to the effect that the dome of St. Paul’s must have come down to Brighton and pupped.” There is an amusing account, too, of the opening of the famous Chain Pier, “The date of the opening ceremony had been settled for October, 1823, and it was hoped that the King or one of the Royal dukes would consent to be present at it. But, alas, the powers at the Pavilion took so little interest in the scheme that the directors of the company were unable even to extract a reply to their humble request. . . . ’ “ Finally, as Royal patronage would most clearly not be forthcoming, the opening took place in November, and Mr Forth, M.C., in a sudden final blaze of sunset importance, was allowed to be the first to pay his tuppence and to pass through the toll gates. Henceforth, the Chain Pier became the favourite promenade, alike for visitors and residents. . The delights it offered were infinite. The arrival of the steam packet, announced by the firing of a cannon, never failed to attract the crowd, and the rising of the tide itself furnished a sensation for the groups of people at the end of the pier. “ The opening of the Chain Pier came as a climax to the undistinguished career of Mr Forth. His successor Colonel Eld, summed up in himself the essence of personal dignity and oldfashioned politeness,, and fulfilled his duties admirably, so that although the opening of the railways and the consequent influx of London working class holiday makers crowned with the last touch of absurdity his office, he retained his post until his death in 1855. “ ‘ What he is, I know not,*’ wrote the Bev. Sydney Smith, ‘ but I am certain what he is. It is that distinguished functionary, the master of

ceremonies. It could be no one else. It was a gentleman point device, walking down the Parade, like Agag, “ delicately.” He pointed out his toes like a dancing master, hut carried his head like a potentate. “ ‘ Sure that in following him I was treading in the steps of greatness, I went on to the pier, and there 1 was confirmed in my conviction of his eminence, for T observed him look first over the right side and then over the left with an expression of serene satisfaction spreading over his countenance, which said plainly as if he had spoken to the sea aloud: “ That is right. You are low tide at present; but, never mind, in a couple of hours I shall make you high tide again.” ’ ”